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