ve
acknowledged as a necessary condition of an improvement of the state,
shows us rather the diametrically opposite form. If, therefore, the
principles I have laid down are correct, and if experience confirms the
picture I have traced of the present time, it would be necessary to
qualify as unseasonable every attempt to effect a similar change in the
state, and all hope as chimerical that would be based on such an attempt,
until the division of the inner man ceases, and nature has been
sufficiently developed to become herself the instrument of this great
change and secure the reality of the political creation of reason.

In the physical creation, nature shows us the road that we have to follow
in the moral creation. Only when the struggle of elementary forces has
ceased in inferior organizations, nature rises to the noble form of the
physical man. In like manner, the conflict of the elements of the moral
man and that of blind instincts must have ceased, and a coarse antagonism
in himself, before the attempt can be hazarded. On the other hand, the
independence of man's character must be secured, and his submission to
despotic forms must have given place to a suitable liberty, before the
variety in his constitution can be made subordinate to the unity of the
ideal. When the man of nature still makes such an anarchial abuse of his
will, his liberty ought hardly to be disclosed to him. And when the man
fashioned by culture makes so little use of his freedom, his free will
ought not to be taken from him. The concession of liberal principles
becomes a treason to social order when it is associated with a force
still in fermentation, and increases the already exuberant energy of its
nature. Again, the law of conformity under one level becomes tyranny to
the individual when it is allied to a weakness already holding sway and
to natural obstacles, and when it comes to extinguish the last spark of
spontaneity and of originality.

The tone of the age must therefore rise from its profound moral
degradation; on the one hand it must emancipate itself from the blind
service of nature, and on the other it must revert to its simplicity, its
truth, and its fruitful sap; a sufficient task for more than a century.
However, I admit readily, more than one special effort may meet with
success, but no improvement of the whole will result from it, and
contradictions in action will be a continual protest against the unity of
maxims. It will be q