thee into forgetfulness. Thou wert nature's favourite, but at the same time her fettered slave.
But thy destiny was to be free;—to free thyself—to break asunder the chains of nature—to oppose thy will and thy strength to the universe, both without thee and within thee—to tread earth and the passions of earth beneath thy feet; and thy first step towards this great consummation was to dissolve the strong, primary, and natural synthesis of sensation. In the course of time, then, that which was originally one in the great unity of nature, became two beneath the first exercise of a reflective analysis. Thy sensation was now divided into subject and object; that is, thyself and the universe around thee. Now, for the first time, wert thou "I."
Wouldst thou re-examine thy sensation as it exists in its primary synthetic state?—then look at it—what is it but a pure unmixed sensation—a sensation, and nothing more? Wouldst thou behold it—in thy own secondary analysis of it?—then, lo! how a new element, altogether transcending mere sensation, is presented to thee—the element or act of negation; that is, as we shall show, of freedom.
Sensation in man is found to be, first of all, a unity—and at this time there is no ego or non-ego at all in the case; but afterwards it becomes a duality, and then there is an ego and a non-ego. But, in the latter case, it is obvious that very different circumstances are connected with sensation, and very different elements are found along with it, than are found in it when it is a unity: there is, for instance, the fact of negation, the non which is interposed between the subject and the object—and there are also, of course, any other facts into which this one may resolve itself.
Moreover, it is evident that, but for this act of negation or division, there would be no ego, or non-ego. Take away this element, and the sensation is restored to its first unity, in which these, being undiscriminated, were virtually non-existent. For it is obvious that, unless a man discriminates himself as "I" from other things, he does not exist as "I." The ego and the non-ego, then, only are by being discriminated, or by the one of them being denied (not in thought or word only, but in a primary and vital act) of the other. But consciousness also is the discrimination between the ego and the non-ego; or, in other words, consciousness resolves itself, in its clearest form, into an act of negation.
In order, then, to throw the strongest light we can on consciousness, we must ascertain the value and import, and, if possible, the origin of this act of negation—this fundamental energy and vital condition upon which the peculiar being of humanity depends. And, first of all, we must beg the reader (a point we have had occasion to press upon him before) to banish from his mind the notion that this negation is a mere logical power, or form, consisting of a thought and a word. Let him endeavour to realize such a conception of it as will exhibit it to him as a vital and energetic deed by which he brings himself into existence—not indeed as a Being—but as that which he calls "I." Let him consider that, unless this deed of negation were practised by him, he himself would not be here—a particular Being would, indeed, be here; but it is only by denying or distinguishing itself from other things that that being becomes a self—himself. Unless this discrimination took place, the Being would remain lost and swallowed up in the identity or uniformity of the universe. It would be only for others, not for itself. Self, in its case, would not emerge.
Am I, then, to say that "I" have been endowed by some other Being with this power of sundering myself, during sensation, from the objects causing it—am I to say that this capability has been given "me?" Given me! Why, I was not "I" until after this power was exerted; how then could it have been given "me"? There was no "me" to give it to. I became "I" only by exercising it; and after it had been exerted, what would be the advantage of supposing it given to me then,—I having it already? If, then, I suppose this power given to "me" before it is exerted, I suppose it given to that which does not as yet exist to receive it; and if I suppose it given to me after it is exerted—after I have become "I," I make myself the receiver of a very superfluous and unnecessary gift.
But suppose it should be said that this power, though not, properly speaking, given to "me," is yet given to that
