ve
humanity, in the breast of its citizens, accordingly it will have to
observe the same relation to its citizens in which they are placed to it;
and it will only respect their subjective humanity in the same degree
that it is ennobled to an objective existence. If the internal man is
one with himself he will be able to rescue his peculiarity, even in the
greatest generalization of his conduct, and the state will only become
the exponent of his fine instinct, the clearer formula of his internal
legislation. But if the subjective man is in conflict with the
objective, and contradicts him in the character of a people, so that only
the oppression of the former can give victory to the latter, then the
state will take up the severe aspect of the law against the citizen, and
in order not to fall a sacrifice, it will have to crush under foot such a
hostile individuality without any compromise.

Now man can be opposed to himself in a twofold manner; either as a
savage, when his feelings rule over his principles; or as a barbarian,
when his principles destroy his feelings. The savage despises art, and
acknowledges nature as his despotic ruler; the barbarian laughs at
nature, and dishonors it, but he often proceeds in a more contemptible
way than the savage to be the slave of his senses. The cultivated man
makes of nature his friend, and honors its friendship, while only
bridling its caprice.

Consequently, when reason brings her moral unity into physical society,
she must not injure the manifold in nature. When nature strives to
maintain her manifold character in the moral structure of society, this
must not create any breach in moral unity; the victorious form is equally
remote from uniformity and confusion. Therefore, totality of character
must be found in the people which is capable and worthy to exchange the
state of necessity for that of freedom.

LETTER V.

Does the present age, do passing events, present this character? I
direct my attention at once to the most prominent object in this vast
structure.

It is true that the consideration of opinion is fallen; caprice is
unnerved, and, although still armed with power, receives no longer any
respect. Man has awakened from his long lethargy and self-deception, and
he demands with impressive unanimity to be restored to his imperishable
rights. But he does not only demand them; he rises on all sides to seize
by force what, in his opinion, has been unjustly wrested