though in both cases we experience in
connection with this object the painful feeling of our limits, yet we do
not seek to avoid it; on the contrary we are attracted to it by an
irresistible force. Could this be the case if the limits of our
imagination were at the same time those of our comprehension? Should we
be willingly called back to the feeling of the omnipotence of the forces
of nature if we had not in us something that cannot be a prey of these
forces. We are pleased with the spectacle of the sensuous infinite,
because we are able to attain by thought what the senses can no longer
embrace and what the understanding cannot grasp. The sight of a terrible
object transports us with enthusiasm, because we are capable of willing
what the instincts reject with horror, and of rejecting what they desire.
We willingly allow our imagination to find something in the world of
phenomena that passes beyond it; because, after all, it is only one
sensuous force that triumphs over another sensuous force, but nature,
notwithstanding all her infinity, cannot attain to the absolute grandeur
which is in ourselves. We submit willingly to physical necessity both
our well-being and our existence. This is because the very power reminds
us that there are in us principles that escape its empire. Man is in the
hands of nature, but the will of man is in his own hands.

Nature herself has actually used a sensuous means to teach us that we are
something more than mere sensuous natures. She has even known how to
make use of our sensations to put us on the track of this discovery--that
we are by no means subject as slaves to the violence of the sensations.
And this is quite a different effect from that which can be produced by
the beautiful; I mean the beautiful of the real world, for the sublime
itself is surpassed by the ideal. In the presence of beauty, reason and
sense are in harmony, and it is only on account of this harmony that the
beautiful has attraction for us. Consequently, beauty alone could never
teach us that our destination is to act as pure intelligences, and that
we are capable of showing ourselves such. In the presence of the
sublime, on the contrary, reason and the sensuous are not in harmony, and
it is precisely this contradiction between the two which makes the charm
of the sublime--its irresistible action on our minds. Here the physical
man and the moral man separate in the most marked manner; for it is
exactly in the pres