-- This immortal soul imprisoned within the flesh has conscience for its organ. "O Conscience， divine instinct， immortal and celestial voice， unfailing guide of an ignorant and finite but free and intelligent being， infallible judge between good and evil， and rendering Man similar to God， Thou foremost the superiority of his nature！"Alongside of vanity， by which we subordinate everything to ourselves， there is a love of order by which we subordinate ourselves to the whole. Alongside of egoism， by which Man seeks happiness even at the expense of others， is sympathy， by which he seeks the happiness of others even at the expense of his own. Personal enjoyment does not suffice him； he still needs tranquillity of conscience and the effusions of the heart. -- Such is Man as God designed and created him； in his organization there is no defect. Inferior elements are as serviceable as the superior elements； all are essential， proportionate， in proper place， not only the heart， the conscience， the intellect， and the faculties by which we surpass brutes， but again the inclinations in common with animals， the instinct of self-preservation and of self-defense， the need of physical activity， sexual appetite， and other primitive impulses as we observe them in the child， the savage and the uncultivated Man.[31] None of these in themselves are either vicious or injurious. None are too strong， even the love of self. None come into play out of season. If we would not interfere with them， if we would impose no constraint on them， if we would permit these sparkling fountains to flow according to their bent， if we would not confine them to our artificial and foul channels， we should never see them boiling over and becoming turbid.
We look with wonder on their ravages and on their stains； we forget that， in the beginning， they were pure and undefiled. The fault is with us， in our social arrangements， in our encrusted and formal channels whereby we cause deviations and windings， and make them heave and bound. "Your very governments are the cause of the evils which they pretend to remedy. Ye scepters of iron！ ye absurd laws， ye we reproach for our inability to fulfill our duties on earth！" Away with these dikes， the work of tyranny and routine！ An emancipated nature will at once resume a direct and healthy course and man， without effort， will find himself not only happy but virtuous as well.[32] On this principle the attack begins： there is none that is pushed further， nor conducted with more bitter hostility. Thus far existing institutions are described simply as oppressive and unreasonable； but now they are now they are accused of being unjust and corrupting as well. Reason and the natural desires were the only insurgents；conscience and pride are now in rebellion. With Voltaire and Montesquieu all I might hope for is that fewer evils might be anticipated. With Diderot and d'Holbach the horizon discloses only a glowing El Dorado or a comfortable Cythera. With Rousseau I behold within reach an Eden where I shall immediately recover a nobility inseparable from my happiness. It is my right； nature and Providence summon me to it； it is my heritage. One arbitrary institution alone keeps me away from it， the creator of my vices as of my misery. With what rage and fury I will overthrow this ancient barrier！ -- We detect this in the vehement tone， in the embittered style， and in the sombre eloquence of the new doctrine. Fun and games are no longer in vogue， a serious tone is maintained； people become exasperated， while the powerful voice now heard penetrates beyond the drawing-room， to the rude and suffering crowd to which no word had yet been spoken， whose mute resentment for the first time finds an interpreter， and whose destructive instincts are soon to be set in motion at the summons of its herald. -- Rousseau is a man of the people， and not a man of high society. He feels awkward in a drawing-room.[33] He is not capable of conversing and of appearing amiable； the nice expressions only come into his head too late， on the staircase as he leaves the house； he keeps silent with a sulky air or utters stupidities， redeeming his awkwardness with the sallies of a clown or with the phrases of a vulgar pedant. Elegance annoys him， luxury makes him uncomfortable， politeness is a lie， conversation mere prattle， ease of manner a grimace， gaiety a convention， wit a parade， science so much charlatanry， philosophy an affection and morals utter corruption. All is factitious， false and unwholesome，[34] from the make-up， toilet and beauty of women to the atmosphere of the apartments and the ragouts on the dinner-table， in sentiment as in amusement， in literature as in music， in government as in religion. This civilization， which boasts of its splendor， is simply the restlessness of over-excited， servile monkeys each imitating the other， and each corrupting the other to， through sophistication， end up in worry and boredom. Human culture， accordingly， is in itself bad， while the fruit it produces is merely excrescence or poison. -- Of what use are the sciences？ Uncertain and useless， they afford merely a pasture-ground for idlers and wranglers.[35]
" Who would want to pass a lifetime in sterile observation， if they， apart from their duties and nature's demands， had had to bestow their time on their country， on the unfortunate and on their friends！"-- Of what use are the fine arts？ They serve only as public flattery of dominant passions. "The more pleasing and the more perfect the drama， the more baneful its influence；" the theater， even with Molière， is a school of bad morals， "inasmuch as it excites deceitful souls to ridicule， in the name of comedy， the candor of artless people." Tragedy， said to be moralizing， wastes in counterfeit effusions the little virtue that still remains. " When a man has been admiring the noble feats in the fables what more is expected of him？
