(d) Finally, to say that a thing is that which we perceive is to substitute one of its partial moments for the whole definition, and nothing is known about the essentiality of this moment. Let us assume that every thing in one way or another, by us or by someone, here or at another time and in another place, is felt, or must be felt, or can be felt. This assertion, however, would be equivalent to saying that the tree is greenness itself, starting from the fact that all trees are green. Then, to the question: "What color is this glass lampshade?" I would have to answer: "It is the color of wood" or "This glass lampshade is wood." Such an answer can be considered absurd only if greenness is not equated with trees, lampshades, pencils, etc. and not to regard it as their definition, but only as one of their attributes, and this attribute is so general and abstract that it does not even make it possible to distinguish a pencil from the sea, the sea from a tree, a tree from a lady's hat, etc. Whoever asserts that a thing is what we feel does not distinguish one's own head from a horse's, a horse's from a dog's, etc., etc. We can agree without any fear. that all things are felt in one way or another (just as we can agree that all living things presuppose heat), but this does not mean that thingness is sensibility (just as life is not mere heat, since heat can exist in dead nature). We can feel something that is not a thing at all (such are the images of dreams, hallucinations, various errors of the senses, etc.).

e) Thus: the tangibility of a thing is one of its ways of being given in the otherness surrounding it, but it is not itself. This is the other, the otherness of the thing, and not the thing itself.

2.

All other definitions of a thing based on the ways in which it is subjectively given are hardly helpful. All things, for example, are thought in one way or another. Can we say on this basis that thingness is conceivability? Here, obviously, the same absurdities will arise as in relation to tangibility. It is possible to defend the reducibility of things to their conceivability only at the cost of a huge number of selected absurdities, although there have always been as many lovers of this type of information as you like. After all, it was always a matter of taste to reduce things to sensations, to thoughts, to emotions. For it might also be said that a thing is that which we emotionally experience, such as what we love or hate. To say that things are what we love or hate is just as valid from the logical point of view as to say that things are what we feel or think. Why are emotions worse than sight, hearing or imagination? Both are equally subjective and objective, in the same measure corresponding or not corresponding to the object, in the same measure may or may not have significance, value, correctness, etc. And although in fact things are indeed either liked or disliked, it would nevertheless be a great absurdity to base the very definition of a thing on this. Though things we either love or hate, yet their essence has nothing to do with our love, our hatred, or ourselves. All these are only ways of giving a thing outside of itself, in its other being, but not the thing itself. And it is clear that at first it exists on its own, and then it is felt by someone. And if it does not exist in itself, then what is felt, what, properly speaking, is felt or thought?

If sensation, representation, thinking, feeling, etc., are considered forms of consciousness, then it can be said that the thing or the essence of a thing is in no way determined by its consciousness. Any confusion that may arise here is destroyed by only one simple attitude: in order to be conscious, one must first simply be. Let this precedence of being to consciousness be purely logical, purely abstract; In any case, such an attitude determines once and for all that a thing is not the consciousness of a thing, that to define consciousness does not yet mean to define a thing, that it is necessary to define a thing and its essence independently of the definition of the consciousness of a thing. Consciousness about a thing is a given thing in consciousness, and not the thing itself.

2. A thing is neither the material of a thing, nor its form, nor a combination of the two

1.

Let us peer into the thing in front of us and continue to look for its definition. Let us abstract ourselves from the ways in which it is given in our consciousness or in anyone else's consciousness. We will look closely at it itself.

(a) The first thing that catches everyone's eye is the matter, or, more plainly, the material of which the thing is composed. For example, a violin is made of wood, and a window is made of glass. Is there a violin – a tree? If the violin were a tree and the window was glass, it would mean that violins are growing in my garden now, and I have windows in my pocket now. This means that the violin is wooden, but it is not wood, nor wood in general, nor any given tree. Let me know perfectly well what a beech tree is, for example, I know botanically, I know aesthetically, I know life, I know in every possible way. Do I thereby know what a violin is? It is clear that, knowing the beech tree very well, I may not even have heard of the existence of this or that musical instrument. Let me know what glass is, I know it scientifically, technically, practically, as comprehensively and profoundly as you like. Does this mean that I already know what a clock is, what a glass is, what a window is, etc.? A glass is glass, but it is not glass; a watch consists, by the way, of glass, but is not glass itself, and so on.

(b) Therefore the matter of which every thing is composed is not the thing itself; it is another thing, the other being of a thing. Since the table is made of wood, and at the same time the chair is made of wood, it follows that the tree determines absolutely nothing either in the table or in the chair, or, more precisely, determines in them what they are, in which they are absolutely identical. This point of our reasoning is extremely important. If we define a thing on the basis of its matter, it means that we shall attain only that in which all material things are perfectly indistinguishable. Does this mean to define this individual thing? It is to lose it altogether for the purpose of definition, and not to define, for we seek that in which a given thing differs from every other thing, and not that in which it indistinguishably merges with them.

c) Thus, no material of a thing is the thing itself, much less its essence. He is completely blind; And you can make anything out of it. Rubber can be made into a ball, and in this sense, rubber "defines" the ball. But rubber can be used to make a coat; This means that it "defines" the coat as well. You can make a doll out of rubber; This means that it "defines" the doll as well. But in this case, what is the difference between a ball and a coat and a coat from a doll? Obviously, not with rubber. But with what? Standing on the point of view of rubber, it is impossible to answer this question. Rubber defines all rubber things in exactly the same way. But there are also non-rubber things. What defines them there? Let it be metal things. Obviously, metallicity also has little to do with metallic things. Let's take glass things. Obviously, glassiness will not give us any individual differences in glass things either. Let us take, finally, the generalized concept of material; it is thought of in the word "matter" because it includes rubber, metal, glass, and all sorts of other materials. It is clear that materiality will tell us absolutely nothing about the individuality of material things that we seek, for the same simple reasons.