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, although thou canst indeed never become conscious of such a presentation?
I. So it is.
Spirit. Canst thou not then adduce some more exact characteristics of the subjective and objective elements as they appear in consciousness?
I. 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 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?
I. 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
