scious of itself as a self, means at the least that it discriminates itself from others, but therefore that it also refers its own defining conception to others, — is in relation with them, as unquestionably as it is in the relation of differing from them. It cannot even think itself, except in this relatedness to them; cannot at all be, except as a member of a reciprocal society. Thus the logical roots of each mind's very being are exactly this recognition of itself through its recognition of others, and the recognition of others in its very act of recognising itself. Hence moral life is not only primordial in the nature of mind, but what we commonly call a moral consciousness, as if we would thereby divide it permanently from the rest of consciousness, and count this remainder mere knowledge or mere aesthetic discernment as the case may be, turns out to be in fact and in truth the primary logical spring of all other possible consciousness. So profoundly and so immovably is this deepest Fountain of value and worth inseated in our being.
From this fact it follows, and still more clearly, as was just now said, that the barest proof of our simple continuance must in reality carry the proof of that form of life which we reckon the highest expression of worth. To prove continuance, it suffices to display the self as the spontaneous source of perceptions simply. But equally spontaneous is our positing of
