136. Fichte tries to make his ideas clearer, but we may be always sure that each explanation will add to their obscurity. Let us permit him to continue:

"Explanation! One often hears the question asked, what was I before I came to the consciousness of myself? The natural answer to this is: I was nothing at all; for I was not the me. The me is only in so far as it is conscious of itself. The possibility of this question is founded on a confusion of the me as subject, and the me as object of the reflection of the absolute subject, and is entirely inadmissible. The me represents itself, takes itself so far under the form of the representation, and is now for the first time something, an object; consciousness receives under this form a substratum which is, and although without actual consciousness, is here thought corporeally. Such a case is considered, and it is asked: what was then the me; that is, what is the substratum of consciousness? But even then we think the absolute subject as that which has intuition of this substratum, together with it, although we do not take note of it; we also, without taking note of it, at the same time think that which we pretended to abstract, and thus fall into a contradiction. We can think absolutely nothing without at the same time thinking the me as conscious of of itself; we can never abstract our own consciousness: hence all questions of this kind are unanswerable; for they would be, if well understood, unaskable."

That the me did not exist as the object of its reflection before it had consciousness of itself, is an evident truth; before thinking itself, it does not think itself; who ever doubted it? But the difficulty is, whether the me is any thing, independently of its own reflections or its objectiveness in relation to itself; that is, whether there is in the me any thing more than the being thought by itself. The question is not contradictory, but it is one which naturally presents itself to reason and to common sense; for reason as well as common sense resist the taking as identical, that which exists, and that which is known; that which knows itself, and that which produces itself. We are not now examining whether we have or have not a clear idea of the substratum of consciousness; but it is curious to hear the German philosopher remark that when we do not conceive the me as the object of reflection, we conceive it under a bodily form. This is to confound imagination with ideas, things, as I have elsewhere[54] shown, which are very different.

137. It follows from Fichte's doctrine that the existence of the me consists in its supposing itself by means of consciousness; and that if consciousness should not exist, the me would not exist. In this case to be and to be known are the same thing. Although I might ask Fichte for his proofs of so extravagant an assertion, I shall confine myself to insisting on the difficulty which he proposes, and which he only eludes by a confusion of ideas. What would the me be, if it were not conscious of itself? If to exist is to have consciousness, when there is no consciousness there is no existence. Fichte answers that the me without consciousness is not the me, in which case, it does not exist; but that the question rests on an impossible supposition, the abstraction of consciousness. "We can think absolutely nothing," he says, "without at the same time thinking the me as conscious of itself; we can never abstract our own consciousness." I say again; these words do not solve the difficulty; they only elude it. I pass over his assertion that consciousness is the same as existence: but it is certain that we conceive an instant in which the me is not conscious of itself. Has this conception never been realized? Has there, or has there not, been an instant in which the me was not conscious of itself? If we admit this instant, we must admit that at this instant the me did not exist; therefore it never could have existed, unless Fichte will concede that the me depends on a superior being, and thus admit the doctrine of creation. If we do not admit this instant, the me has always existed, and with the consciousness of itself; therefore the me is an eternal and immutable intelligence; it is God. There is no way for Fichte to escape this dilemma. There is no room here for the distinction between the me as subject and the me as object: we are speaking of the me as having consciousness of itself,—that consciousness in which Fichte makes its existence consist,—and we ask whether this me has always existed or not; if the first, the me is God; if the second, you must either acknowledge creation, or hold that a being which does not exist can give itself existence.

138. Fichte does not retreat from the first consequence, and although he does not call me God, he gives it all the attributes of divinity. "If the me," he says, "is only in so far as it supposes itself, it is only for the supposing, and supposes only for being. The me is for the me,—but if it supposes itself absolutely as it is, it supposes itself necessary, and is necessary, for the me. I am only for myself; but I am necessary for myself—(in saying for myself I always suppose my being.)

"To suppose itself, and to be, are, speaking of the me, entirely the same. The proposition: I am, because I have supposed myself, can, therefore, be also expressed in this manner: I am absolutely, because I am.

"Moreover, the me which supposes itself, and the me which is, are entirely identical; they are one and the same thing. The me is for that which it supposes itself; and it supposes itself as that which it is. Therefore, I am absolutely, what I am.

"The immediate expression of the act which we have now developed would be the following formula: I am absolutely, that is, I am absolutely, because I am; and am absolutely, what I am; both for the me.

"But if the enunciation of this act is intended to be placed at the head of a doctrine of science, it should be expressed somewhat in the following manner: The me originally supposes its own being absolutely."[55]