Spirit. Henceforward let us call this second knowledge, obtained by means of another, mediate, and the first immediate knowledge. A certain school has called this procedure which we have to some extent described above, a synthesis; by which we are to understand not a con-ne.vion established between two elements previously existing, but an an-nexion, and an addition of a wholly new element, arising through this an-nexion, to another element previously existing independently of such addition.
Thus the first consciousness appears as soon as thou discoverest thy own existence, and the latter is not discovered without the former; the second consciousness is produced in thee by means of the first.
/. But not successive to it in time; for I am conscious of external things at the very same undivided moment in which I become conscious of myself.
Spirit. I did not speak of such a succession in time at all; but I think that when thou reflectest upon that undivided consciousness of thyself and of the external object, distinguishest between them, and inquirest into their connexion, thou wilt find that the latter can be conceived of only as conditioned by the former, and as only possible on the supposition of its existence; but not vice versa.
I. So I find it to be; and if that be all thou wouldst say, I admit thy assertion, and have already admitted it.
Spirit. Thou engenderest, I say, this second consciousness; producest it by a real act of thy mind. Or dost thou find it otherwise?
7. I have surely admitted this already. I add to the consciousness which is simultaneous with that of my existence, another which I do not find in myself; I thus complete and double my actual consciousness, and this is certainly an act. But I am tempted to take back either my admission, or else the whole supposition. I am perfectly conscious of the act of my mind when I form a general conception, or when in cases of doubt I choose one of the many possible modes of action which lie before me; but of the act through which, according to thy assertion, I must produce the presentation of an object out of myself, I am not conscious at all.
Spirit. Do not be deceived. Of an act of thy mind thou canst become conscious only in so far as thou dost pass through a state of indetermination and indecision, of which thou wert likewise conscious, and to which this act puts an end. There is no such state of indecision in the case we have supposed; the mind has no need to deliberate what object it shall superadd to its particular sensations, — it is done at once. We even find this distinction in philosophical phraseology. An act of the mind, of which we are conscious as such, is called freedom. An act without consciousness of action, is called spontaneity. Remember that I by no means demand of thee an immediate consciousness of the act as such, but only that on subsequent reflection thou shouldst discover that there must have been an act. The higher question, what it is that prevents any such state of indecision, or any consciousness of our act, will undoubtedly be afterwards solved.
This act of the mind is called thought; a word which I have hitherto employed with thy concurrence; and it is said that thought takes place with spontaneity, in opposition to sensation which is mere receptivity. How is it, then, that, in thy previous statement, thou addest in thought to the sensation which thou certainly hast, an object of which thou knowest nothing?
I. I assume that my sensation must have a cause, and then proceed further, — Spirit. Wilt thou not, in the first place, explain to me what is a cause?
L I find a thing determined this way or that. I cannot rest satisfied with knowing that so it is; — it has become so, and that not by itself, but by means of a foreign power. This foreign power, that made it what it is, contains the cause, and the manifestation of that power, which did actually make it so, is the cause of this particular determination of the thing. That my sensation must have a cause, means that it is produced within me by a foreign power.
Spirit This foreign power thou now addest in thought to the sensation of which thou art immediately conscious, and thus there arises in thee the presentation of an object? Well, — let it be so.
Now observe; if sensation must have a cause, then I admit the correctness of thy inference; and I see with what perfect right thou assumest the existence of objects out of thyself, notwithstanding that thou neither knowest nor canst know aught of them. But how then dost thou know, and how dost thou propose to prove, that sensation must have a cause? Or, in the general manner in which thou hast stated the proposition, why canst thou not rest satisfied to know that something isf why must thou assume that it has become so, or that it has become so by means of a foreign power? I note that thou hast always only assumed this.
/. I confess it. But I cannot do otherwise than think so. It seems as if I knew it immediately.
Spirit. What this answer, " thou knowest it immediately," may signify, we shall see should we be brought back to it as the only possible one. We will however first try all other possible methods of ascertaining the grounds of the assertion that everything must have a cause.
Dost thou know this by immediate perception?
/. How could I? since perception only declares that in me something is, according as I am determined this way or that, but never that it has become so; still less that it has become so by means of a foreign power lying beyond all perception.
Spirit. Or dost thou obtain this principle by generalisation of thy observation of external things, the cause of which thou hast always discovered out of themselves; an observation which thou now appliest to thyself and to thine own condition?
/. Do not treat me like a child, and ascribe to me palpable absurdities. By the principle of causality I first arrive at a knowledge of things out of myself; how then can I again, by observation of these things, arrive at this principle itself. Shall the earth rest on the great elephant, and the great elephant again upon the earth?
Spirit. Or is this principle a deduction from some other general truth?
/. Which again could be founded neither on immediate perception, nor on the observation of external things, and concerning the origin of which thou wouldst still raise other questions! I might only possess this previous fundamental truth by immediate knowledge. Better to say this at once of the principle of causality and let thy conjectures rest.
Spirit. Let it be so; — we then obtain besides the first immediate knowledge of our own states through sensible perception a second immediate knowledge concerning a general truth?
/. So it appears.
Spirit. The particular knowledge now in question, namely, that thy affections or states must have a cause, is entirely independent of the knowledge of things?
/. Certainly, for the latter is obtained only by means of it.
Spirit. And thou hast it absolutely in thyself?
/. Absolutely, for only by means of it do I first proceed out of myself.
Spirit. Out of thyself therefore, and through thyself, and through thine own immediate knowledge, thou prescribest laws to being and its relations?
/. Rightly considered, I prescribe laws only to my own presentations of being and its relations, and it will be more correct to make use of this expression.
Spirit. Be it so. Art thou then conscious of these laws in any other way than as thou dost act in accordance with them?
/. My consciousness begins with the perception of my own state; I connect directly therewith the presentation of an object according to the principle of causality; — both of these, the consciousness of my own state, and the presentation of an object, are inseparably united, there is no intervening consciousness between them, and this one undivided consciousness is preceded by no other. No, it is impossible that I should be conscious of this law before acting in accordance with it, or in any other way than by so acting.
Spirit. Thou actest upon this law therefore without being conscious of it; thou actest upon it immediately and absolutely. Yet thou didst but now declare thyself conscious of it, and didst express it as a general proposition. How hast thou arrived at this latter consciousness?
I- Doubtless thus. I observe myself subsequently, and perceive that I have thus acted, and combine this ordinary course of procedure into a general law.
Spirit. Thou canst therefore become conscious of this course of procedure?
/. Unquestionably, — I guess the object of these questions. This is the above-mentioned second kind of immediate consciousness, that of my activity; as the first is sensation, or the consciousness of my passivity.
Spirit. Right. Thou mayest subsequently become conscious of thine own acts, by free observation of thyself and by reflection; but it is not necessary that thou shouldst become so; — thou dost not become immediately conscious of them at the moment of thy internal act.
/. Yet I must be originally conscious of them, for I am immediately conscious of my presentation of the object at the same moment that I am conscious of the sensation. — I have found the solution; I am immediately conscious of my act only not as such; but it moves before me as an objective reality. This consciousness is a consciousness of the object. Subsequently by free reflection I may also become conscious of it as an act of my own mind.
My immediate consciousness is composed of two elements: — the consciousness of my passivity, i. e., sensation;— and of my activity, in the creation of an object according to the law of causality; — the latter consciousness connecting itself immediately with the former. My consciousness of the object is only a yet unrecognised consciousness of my creation of a presentation of an object. I am cognisant of this creation only because I myself am the creator. And thus all consciousness is immediate, is but a consciousness of myself, and therefore perfectly comprehensible. Am I in the right?
Spirit. Perfectly so; but whence then the necessity and universality thou hast ascribed to thy principles; — in this case to the principle of causality?
/. From the immediate feeling that I cannot act otherwise, as surely as I have reason; and that no other reasonable being can act otherwise, as surely as it is a reasonable being. My proposition, — " All that is contingent, such as in this case my sensation, must have a cause," — means the following: " I have at all times rpre-sup posed a cause, and every one who thinks will likewise be constrained to pre-suppose a cause" Spirit. Thou perceivest then that all knowledge is merely a knowledge of thyself; that thy consciousness never goes beyond thyself; and that what thou assumest to be a consciousness of the object is nothing but a consciousness of thine own supposition of an object, which, according to an inward law of thy thought, thou dost necessarily make simultaneously with the sensation itself.
7. Proceed boldly with thy inferences; — I have not interrupted thee, I have even helped thee in the development of these conclusions. But now, seriously, I retract my whole previous position, that by means of the principle of causality I arrive at the knowledge of external things; and I did indeed inwardly retract it as soon as it led us into serious error.
In this way I could become conscious only of a mere power out of myself, and of this only as a conception of my own mind, just as for the explanation of magentic phenomena, I suppose a magnetic — or for the explanation of electrical phenomena, an electrical — power in Nature.
But the world does not appear to me such a mere thought, — the thought of a mere power. It is something extended, something which is thoroughly tangible, not like a mere power, through its manifestations, but in itself; — it does not, like this, merely produce, it has qualities; — I am inwardly conscious of my apprehension of it, in a manner quite different from my consciousness of mere thought; — it appears to me as perception, although it has been proved that it cannot be such; and it would be difficult for me to describe this kind of consciousness, and to distinguish it from the other kinds of which we have spoken.
Spirit. Thou must nevertheless attempt such a description, otherwise I shall not understand thee, and we shall never arrive at clearness.
/. I will attempt to open a way towards it. I beseech thee, O Spirit! if thy organ of sight be like mine, to fix thine eye on the red object before us, to surrender thyself unreservedly to the impression produced by it, and to forget meanwhile thy previous conclusions; — and now tell me candidly what takes place in thy mind.
Spirit. I can completely place myself in thy position; and it is no purpose of mine to disown any impression which has an actual existence. But tell me, what is the effect you anticipate?
/. Dost thou not perceive and apprehend at a single glance, the surface? — I say the surface, — does it not stand there present before thee, entire and at once? — art thou conscious, even in the most distant and obscure way, of this extension of a simple red point to a line, and of this line to a surface, of which thou hast spoken? It is an after-thought to divide this surface, and conceive of its points and lines. Wouldst thou not, and would not every one who impartially observes himself, maintain and insist, notwithstanding thy former conclusions, that he really saw a surface of such or such a colour?
Spirit. I admit all this; and on examining myself, I find that it is exactly so as thou hast described.
But, in the first place, hast thou forgotten that it is not our object to relate to each other what presents itself in consciousness, as in a journal of the human mind, but to consider its various phenomena in their connexion, and to explain them by, and deduce them from, each other; and that consequently none of thy observations, which certainly cannot be denied, but which must be explained, can overturn any one of my just conclusions.
7. I shall never lose sight of this.
Spirit. Then do not in the remarkable resemblance of this consciousness of bodies out of thyself, which yet thou canst not describe, to real perception, overlook the great difference nevertheless existing between them.
7. I was about to mention this difference. Each indeed appears as an immediate, not as an acquired or produced consciousness. But sensation is consciousness of my own state. Not so the consciousness of the object itself, which has absolutely no reference to me. I know that it is, and this is all; it does not concern me. If, in the first case, I seem like a soft strain of music which is modulated now in this way now in that, in the other, I appear like a mirror before which objects pass without producing the slightest change in it.
This distinction however is in my favour. Just so much the more do I seem to have a distinct consciousness of an existence out of myself, entirely independent of the sense of my own state of being; — of an existence out of myself, I say — for this differs altogether in kind from the consciousness of my own internal states.
Spirit. Thou observest well — but do not rush too hastily to a conclusion. If that whereon we have already agreed remains true, and thou canst be immediately conscious of thyself only; if the consciousness now in question be not a consciousness of thine own passivity, and still less a consciousness of thine own activity; — may it not then be an unrecognised consciousness of thine own being? — of thy being in so far as thou art a knowing being, — an Intelligence?
7. I do not understand thee; but help me once more, for I wish to understand thee.
Spirit. I must then demand thy whole attention, for I am here compelled to go deeper, and expatiate more widely, than ever. What art thou?
/. To answer thy question in the most general way, — I am I, myself.
Spirit. I am well satisfied with this answer. What dost thou mean when thou sayest " I "; — what lies in this conception, — and how dost thou attain it?
/. On this point I can make myself understood only by contrast. External existence — the thing, is something out of me, the cognitive being. 7 am myself this cognitive being, one with the object of my cognition. As to my consciousness of the former, there arises the question, — Since the thing cannot know itself, how can a knowledge of it arise? — how can a consciousness of the thing arise in me, since I myself am not the thing, nor any of its modes or forms, and all these modes and forms lie within the circle of its own being, and by no means in mine? How does the thing reach me? What is the tie between me, the subject, and the thing which is the object of my knowledge? But as to my consciousness of myself, there can be no such question. In this case, I have my knowledge within myself, for I am intelligence. What I am, I know because I am it; and that whereof I know immediately that I am it, that I am because I immediately know it. There is here no need of any tie between subject and object; my own nature is this tie. I am subject and object: — and this subjectobjectivity, this return of knowledge upon itself, is what I mean by the term " I," when I deliberately attach a definite meaning to it.
Spirit. Thus it is in the identity of subject and object that thy nature as an intelligence consists?
7. Yes.
Spirit. Canst thou then comprehend the possibility of thy becoming conscious of this identity, which is neither subject nor object, but which lies at the foundation of both, and out of which both arise?
/. By no means. It is the condition of all my consciousness, that the conscious being, and what he is conscious of, appear distinct and separate. I cannot even conceive of any other consciousness. In the very act of recognising myself, I recognise myself as subject and object, both however being immediately bound up with each other.
Spirit. Canst thou become conscious of the moment in which this inconceivable one separated itself into these two?
/. How can I, since my consciousness first becomes possible in and through their separation, — since it is my consciousness itself that thus separates them? Beyond consciousness itself there is no consciousness.
Spirit. It is this separation, then, that thou necessarily recognisest in becoming conscious of thyself? In this thy very original being consists?
/. So it is.
Spirit. And on what then is it founded?
7. I am intelligence, and have consciousness in myself. This separation is the condition and result of consciousness. It has its foundation, therefore, in myself, like consciousness.
Spirit. Thou art intelligence, thou sayest, at least this is all that is now in question, and as such thou becomest an object to thyself. Thy knowledge, therefore in its objective capacity, presents itself before thyself, i. e. before thy knowledge in its subjective capacity; and floats before it, but without thou thyself being conscious of such a presentation?
/. So it is.
Spirit. Canst thou not then adduce some more exact characteristics of the subjective and objective elements as they appear in consciousness?
7. The subjective appears to contain within itself the foundation of consciousness as regards its form, but by no means as regards its substance. That there is a consciousness, an inward perception and conception,— of this the foundation lies in itself; but that precisely this or that is conceived, — in this it is dependent on the objective, with which it is conjoined and by which it is likewise borne along. The objective, on the contrary, contains the foundation of its being within itself; it is in and for itself, — it is, as it is, because it is The subjective appears as the still and passive mirror of the objective; the latter floats before it. That the former should reflect images generally, lies in itself. That precisely this image and none other should be reflected, depends on the latter.
Spirit. The subjective, then, according to its essential nature, is precisely so constituted as thou hast previously described thy consciousness of an existence out of thyself to be?
7. It is true, and this agreement is remarkable. I begin to believe it half credible, that out of the internal laws of my own consciousness may proceed even the presentation of an existence out of myself, and independent of me; and that this presentation may at bottom be nothing more than the presentation of these laws themselves.
Spirit. And why only half credible?
/. Because I do not yet see why precisely such a presentation — a presentation of a mass extended through space — should arise.
Spirit. Thou hast already seen that it is only thine own sensation which thou extendest through space; and thou hast had some forebodings that it is by this extension in space alone that thy sensation becomes transformed for thee into something sensible. We have therefore to do at present only with space itself, and to explain its origin in consciousness.
/. So it is.
Spirit. Let us then make the attempt. I know that thou canst not become conscious of thy intelligent activity as such, in so far as it remains in its original and unchangeable unity; — i. e. in the condition which begins with thy very being, and can never be destroyed without at the same time destroying that being; — ana such a consciousness therefore I do not ascribe to thee, But thou canst become conscious of it in so far as it passes from one state of transition to another within the limits of this unchangeable unity. When thou dost represent it to thyself in the performance of this function, how does it appear to thee — this internal spiritual activity?
/. My spiritual faculty appears as if in a state of internal motion, swiftly passing from one point to another; — in short, as an extended line. A definite thought makes a point in this line.
Spirit. And why as an extended line?
/. Can I give a reason for that beyond the circle of which I cannot go without at the same time overstepping the limits of my own existence? It is so, absolutely.
Spirit. Thus, then, does a particular act of thy consciousness appear to thee. But what shape then is assumed, not by thy produced, but by thy inherited, knowledge, of which all specific thought is but the revival and farther definition? — how does this present itself to thee? Under what image does it appear?
/. Evidently as something in which one may draw lines and make points in all directions, namely, as space.
Spirit. Now then, it will be entirely clear to thee, how that, which really proceeds from thyself, may nevertheless, appear to thee as an existence external to thyself, — nay, must necessarily appear so.
Thou hast penetrated to the true source of the presentation of things out of thyself. This presentation is not perception, for thou perceivest thyself only; — as little is it thought, for things do not appear to thee as mere results of thought. It is an actual, and indeed absolute and immediate consciousness of an existence out of thyself, just as perception is an immediate consciousness of thine own condition. Do not permit thyself to be perplexed by sophists and half-philosophers; things do not appear to thee through any representation;— of the thing that exists, and that can exist, thou art immediately conscious; — and there is no other thing than that of which thou art conscious. Thou thyself art the thing; thou thyself, by virtue of thy finitude — the innermost law of thy being — art thus presented before thyself, and projected out of thyself; and all that thou perceivest out of thyself is still — thyself only. This consciousness has been well named INTUITION. In all consciousness I contemplate myself, for I am myself: — to the subjective, conscious being, consciousness is self-contemplation. And the objective, that which is contemplated and of which I am conscious, is also myself, — the same self which contemplates, but now floating as an objective presentation before the subjective. In this respect, consciousness is an active retrospect of my own intuitions; an observation of myself from my own position; a projection of myself out of myself by means of the only mode of action which is properly mine, — perception. I am a living faculty of vision. I see (consciousness) my own vision ( the thing of zvhich I am conscious. ) Hence this object is also thoroughly transparent fo thy mind's eye, because it is thy mind itself. Thou dividest, limitest, determinest, the possible forms of things, and the relations of these forms, previous to all perception. No wonder, — for in so doing thou dividest, limitest, and determinest thine own knowledge, which undoubtedly is sufficiently known to thee. Thus does a knowledge of things become possible. It is not in the things, and cannot proceed out of them. It proceeds from thee, and is indeed thine own nature.
There is no outward sense, for there is no outward perception. There is, however, an outward intuition;— not of things, but this outward intuition — this knowledge apparently external to the subjective being, and hovering before it, — is itself the thing, and there is no other.,By means of this outward intuition are perception and sense regarded as external. It remains eternally true, for it is proved, — that I see or feel a surface, — my sight or feeling takes the shape of the sight or feeling of a surface. Space, — illuminated, transparent, palpable, penetrable space, — the purest image of my knowledge, is not seen, but is an intuitive possession of my own mind; in it even my faculty of vision itself is contained. The light is not out of, but in me, and I myself am the light. Thou hast already answered my question, " How dost thou know of thy sensations, of thy seeing, feeling, &c.? " by saying that thou hast an immediate knowledge or consciousness of them. Now, perhaps, thou wilt be able to define more exactly this immediate consciousness of sensation.
/. It must be a two-fold consciousness. Sensation is itself an immediate consciousness; for I am sensible of my own sensation. But from this there arises no knowledge of outward existence, but only the feeling of my own state. I am, however, originally, not merely a sensitive, but also an intuitive being; not merely a practical being, but also an intelligence. I intuitively contemplate my sensation itself, and thus there arises from myself and my own nature, the cognition of an existence. Sensation becomes transformed into its own object; my affections, as red, smooth, and the like, into a something red, smooth, &c. out of myself; and this something, and my relative sensation, I intuitively contemplate in space, because the intuition itself is space. Thus does it become clear why I believe that I see or feel surfaces, which, in fact, I neither see nor feel. I intuitively regard my own sensation of sight or touch, as the sight or touch of a surface.
Spirit. Thou hast well understood me, or rather thyself.
I. But now it is not at all by means of an inference, either recognised or unrecognised, from the principle of causality, that the thing is originated for me; it floats immediately before me, and is presented to my consciousness without any process of reasoning. I cannot say, as I have formerly said, that perception becomes transformed into a something perceivable, for the perceivable, as such, has precedence in consciousness. It is not with an affection of myself, as red, smooth, or the like, that consciousness begins, but with a red, smooth object out of myself.
Spirit. If, however, thou wert obliged to explain what is red, smooth, and the like, couldst thou possibly make any other reply than that it was that by which thou wert affected in a certain manner that thou namest red, smooth, &c.?
/. Certainly not, — if you were to ask me, and I were to enter upon the question and attempt an explanation. But originally no one asks me the question, nor do I ask it of myself. I forget myself entirely, and lose myself in my intuition of the object; become conscious, not of my own state, but only of an existence out of myself. Red, green, and the like, are properties of the thing; it is red or green, and this is all. There can be no farther explanation, any more than there can be a farther explanation of these affections in me, on which we have already agreed. This is most obvious in the sensation of sight. Colour appears as something out of myself; and the common understanding of man, if left to itself, and without farther reflection, would scarcely be persuaded to describe red, green, &c. as that which excited within him a specific affection.
Spirit. But, doubtless, it would if asked regarding sweet or sour. It is not our business at present to inquire whether the impression made by means of sight be a pure sensation, or whether it may not rather be a middle term between sensation and intuition, and the bone by which they are united in our minds. But I admit thy assertion, and it is extremely welcome to me. Thou canst, indeed, lose thyself in the intuition; and unless thou directest particular attention to thyself, or takest an interest in some external action, thou dost so, naturally and necessarily. This is the remark to which the defenders of a groundless consciousness of external things appeal, when it is shown that the principle of causality, by which the existence of such things might be inferred, exists only in ourselves; they deny that any such inference is made, and, in so far as they refer to actual consciousness in particular cases, this cannot be disputed. These same defenders, when the nature of intuition is explained to them from the laws of intelligence itself, themselves draw this inference anew, and never weary of repeating that there must be something external to us which compels us to this belief.
/. Do not trouble thyself about them at present, but instruct me. I have no preconceived opinion, and seek for truth only.
Spirit. Nevertheless, intuition necessarily proceeds from the perception of thine own state, although thou art not always clearly conscious of this perception, as thou hast already seen. Even in that consciousness in which thou losest thyself in the object, there is always something which is only possible by means of an unrecognised reference to thyself, and close observation of thine own state.
7. Consequently, at all times and places the consciousness of existence out of myself must be accompanied by an unobserved consciousness of myself?
Spirit. Just so.
I. The former being determined through the latter,— as it actually is?
Spirit. That is my meaning.
/. Prove this to me, and I shall be satisfied.
Spirit. Dost thou imagine only things in general as placed in space, or each of them individually as occupying a certain portion of space?
/. The latter, — each thing has its determinate bulk.
Spirit. And do different things occupy the same part of space?
/. By no means; they exclude each other. They are beside, over or under, behind, or before, each other; — nearer to me, or further from me.
Spirit. And how dost thou come to this measurement and arrangement of them in space? Is it by sensation?
/. How could that be, since space itself is no sensation?
Spirit. Or intuition?
/. This cannot be. Intuition is immediate and in- BOOK //. KNOWLEDGE. 75 fallible. What is contained in it does not appear as produced, and cannot deceive. But I must train myself to estimate, measure and deliberate upon, the size of an object, its distance, its position with respect to other objects. It is a truth known to every beginner, that we originally see all objects in the same line; that we learn to estimate their greater or lesser distances; that the child attempts to grasp distant objects as if they lay immediately before his eyes; and that one born blind who should suddenly receive sight would do the same. This conception of distances is therefore a judgment; — no intuition, but an arrangement of my different intuitions by means of the understanding. I may err in my estimate of the size, distance, &c. of an object; and the so-called optical deceptions are not deceptions of sight, but erroneous judgments formed concerning the size of the object, concerning the size of its different parts in relation to each other, and consequently concerning its true figure and its distance from me and from other objects. But it does really exist in space, as I contemplate it, and the colours which I see in it are likewise really seen by me; — and here there is no deception.