In the representing of the representation, that representing was the actual event; the representation the further determination of it, since it was not a representing in general, but the representing of a representation; and the conversation, finally, was the further determination of the (represented) representation, since the representing had for its object not a representation in general, but a determined representation, namely, that of a determined conversation.
A. Hence, each reality, each true and actually occurring event in life is that wherein you forget yourself. This is the beginning and real focus of life, whatever further subordinated determinations this focus may involve, because it happens to be such a particular focus. I wish and hope that I have made myself quite clear to you, and am sure I have been successful, if during this investigation you have only been always within yourself, looking into yourself, and attending to yourself. Tell me, whilst you represented yesterday's conversation, or—since I prefer not to assume a mere fiction, but to place you right into your present condition of mind—whilst you just now argued with me, thereby filling up your life and throwing into it yourself, you doubtless hold that many other things have moved and happened outside of your own self and mind?
R. Doubtless. The hand of the clock, for instance, has moved, so has the sun, &c.
A. Have you seen or experiencedthis moving of the hand of the clock?
R. How could I, since I was arguing with you, throwing my whole self into it, and filling up my life with it?
A. How, then, do you know concerning the movement of the clock—to stop at this example?
R. I looked at it before, and noticed the place pointed out by the hand. I now look at it again, and find that the hand has moved to another place. I draw the conclusionfrom the arrangement of the clock, which was previously known to me, likewise through perception, that the hand has gradually moved whilst I was arguing.
A. Do you assume that, if instead of arguing with me, you had occupied the same time in looking at the clock, you would have actually perceived the movement of the hand?
R. Most certainly do I assume it.
A. Hence, both your arguing and the movement of the clock are, according to what you say, true and actual events of the same moment of time; the latter, to be sure, is not an event of your life, since you lived something else during the time, but it might have become an event of your life, and would have become so necessarily, if you had paid attention to the clock?
R. Yes.
A. And the hand of the clock has actually and in fact moved without your knowledge and activity?
R. That is the assumption, certainly.
A. Do you believe that if you had not argued—just as you did not look at the clock—your argument would also have moved on without your knowledge or activity, like the hand of the clock?
R. On no account. My arguing does not move of itself; Imust carry it on, if it is to be carried on.
A. How does this apply to the representing of yesterday's conversation? Does that also come to you without any activity of your own, like the movement of the clock, or must you produce it yourself, like the argument?
R. If I consider it carefully, I do not know. True, just at present I am convinced that I actively produced it, because you asked me to do so; but since it often happens that images crowd through my brain, and come and go without any cooperation of my own, just as the hand of the clock moves, I cannot decidedly say whether that representation might not have come into my head without any activity of my own, and without your request.
A. With all the respect which an author owes his reader, and which I really entertain towards you, let me tell you that this confusion of yours is of bad augury for the continuation of our conversation. I hold that men should dream only in their sleep, but should not when waking allow images to crowd of themselves into their brain. The absolute freedom arbitrarily to give a determined direction to your mind, and keep it in that direction, is an essential condition, not only of philosophical, but even of healthy common thinking.