g that neither seeks from nor gives to him is non-existent. Every
phenomenon stands out before him separate and cut off, as he finds
himself in the series of beings. All that is, is to him through the bias
of the moment; every change is to him an entirely fresh creation, because
with the necessary in him, the necessary out of him is wanting, which
binds together all the changing forms in the universe, and which holds
fast the law on the theatre of his action, while the individual departs.
It is in vain that nature lets the rich variety of her forms pass before
him; he sees in her glorious fulness nothing but his prey, in her power
and greatness nothing but his enemy. Either he encounters objects, and
wishes to draw them to himself in desire, or the objects press in a
destructive manner upon him, and he thrusts them away in dismay and
terror. In both cases his relation to the world of sense is immediate
contact; and perpetually anxious through its pressure, restless and
plagued by imperious wants, he nowhere finds rest except in enervation,
and nowhere limits save in exhausted desire.

"True, his is the powerful breast, and the mighty hand
of the Titans. . . .
A certain inheritance; yet the god welded
Round his forehead a brazen band;
Advice, moderation, wisdom, and patience,--
Hid it from his shy, sinister look.
Every desire is with him a rage,
And his rage prowls around limitless."--Iphigenia in Tauris.

Ignorant of his own human dignity, he is far removed from honoring it in
others, and conscious of his own savage greed, he fears it in every
creature that he sees like himself. He never sees others in himself,
only himself in others, and human society, instead of enlarging him to
the race, only shuts him up continually closer in his individuality.
Thus limited, he wanders through his sunless life, till favoring nature
rolls away the load of matter from his darkened senses, reflection
separates him from things, and objects show themselves at length in the
afterglow of the consciousness.

It is true we cannot point out this state of rude nature as we have here
portrayed it in any definite people and age. It is only an idea, but an
idea with which experience agrees most closely in special features. It
may be said that man was never in this animal condition, but he has not,
on the other hand, ever entirely escaped from it. Even in the rudest
subjects, unmistakable traces of rational freedom can be fou