He is becoming too wise to hearken always to instincts and desires; he is still too weak to always prevail against them.

As a beast, the forces of life aligned him with them; with the forces.

In this intermediate stage he wavers-neither drawn in her money with nature by his instincts nor yet wisely putting himself into harmony by his own free-will.

He is even as wisp in the wind, moved by every breath of passion, acting now by his will and now by his instincts, erring with one, only-a creature of incalculable variability.

We have the consolation of knowing that evolution is ever in action, that the ideal is a light that cannot fail.