idea, here in question, is the one chosen by the idea,” then you admit the essential point. The relation to the object is so far predetermined by the idea. Hence, as we have now seen, the object of the idea is predetermined, both as to what object it is, and as to how it is to correspond to the idea, through the choice made by the idea itself. The object, precisely in so far as it is object of that idea, seems thus to be altogether predetermined. In brief, the object and the idea of that object appear to be related as Hamlet in the play is related to the intent of Shakespeare, or as creation and creative purpose in general are related. Hamlet is what Shakespeare’s idea intends him to be. The object is what it is because the idea means it to be the object of just this idea. And so much may suffice for our thesis.
But the antithesis runs: No finite idea predetermines, in its object, exactly the character which, when present in the object, gives the idea the desired truth. For observe, first, that the object of a true finite idea, such as our idea of the world or of space, is in any case something other than the mere idea itself. And the truth of the idea depends upon a confirmation of the idea through the presence and the characters of this other, — the object. Now error is certainly possible in finite ideas. For some finite ideas are false. And that this last assertion itself is true, is not only a matter of common opinion, but can be proved by the very counterpart of the Augustinian argument about Veritas. For if there could be no error, then the customary assertion that ideas can err, i.e. our well-known common-sense conviction that error is possible, would be itself an error, and this result would involve a
