In youth, when the spiritual principle begins to act, and is capable of conducting us, a new material sense appears, which assumes an absolute sway over our faculties, the soul itself seems with pleasure to incline to the impetuous passions which it produces. The material principle has, then, more power than ever, for it not only effaces reason but perverts it, and uses it for its own gratification. We only think and act to encourage and to gratify some passion; and while this intoxication lasts we are happy. The external contradictions, and difficulties, seem to render the unity of the interior existence still more firm; they fortify the passion, and fill up the languid intervals; they call forth our pride, and direct all our views towards one object, all our powers towards effecting one end. But this happiness passes away as a dream; the charm disappears, disgust ensues, and a horrid vacuity of sentiment succeeds. Hardly, on rousing from this lethargy, is the soul capable of distinguishing itself; by slavery it has lost its strength, and the habit of commanding; of that slavery it even regrets the privation, and longs for another master, a new object of passion, which presently disappears in its turn, and is followed by another passion more transitory still. Thus excess and disgust succeed each other; pleasure flies, the organs decay, and the material sense, instead of commanding, has no longer strength to obey. After a youth like this, what is there left for a man? A body enervated, a mind enfeebled, and the inability to make use of either. It is remarked, that at the middle period of life men are chiefly subjected to those languors, or vapours. At this period we still run after the pleasures of youth, not from an absolute propensity but from habit. In proportion as we advance in years, our ability for the enjoyment of pleasure decreases, and so often are we humiliated by our own weakness, that we cannot help condemning our actions and desires.