sure, in relation to an object; the real that I experience or think, then and there stands in relation to me. But this relation is non-essential to the reality of either the subject or the object. The object is real, in so far as it needs me not, but is independent; just as I too am real, in so far as I should still be I, even if I knew not just this object that I at any one moment know. Knowing subject and known reality, the object, are related, to use Sigwart’s expression just cited in the foot-note, somewhat as are horse and rider. The rider is, in his own being, independent of the horse; although, while he rides, he exists in this relation to the horse, which, on its part, is then subject to the rider’s compulsion.
What I know, then, when I touch, see, think, is that there is somewhat that is independent of me, and that compels me to know, at each moment, thus or thus, or to modify my will in this way or in that. This is the general presupposition of Realism. And in considering it, a realist usually first points out that this is the universal presupposition of the natural human consciousness. Whoever questions this presupposition, thus has, as they say, the “burden of proof” upon his hands. “Consciousness” seems to “bear witness” to the presupposition that one thus constantly knows an independently real object-world to be present. The questioner, the sceptic, — yes, as the realists insist, the idealist, — must first show how he dares, as a being who knows only through
