Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser — Read

Among the force which sweep and play throughout the universe, untutored man is but a wisp in the wind. Our civilization is still in a middle stage, scarcely beast in that it is no longer wholly guided by instinct; scarcely human, in that it is not yet wholly guided by reason. On the tiger no responsibility rests. We see him aligned by nature with the forces of life-he is born into their keeping and without though he is protected. We see man far removed from the lairs of the jungles, his innate instincts dulled by too near an approach to free-will, his free-will not sufficiently developed to replace his instincts and afford him perfect guidance. 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. He will not forever balance thus between good and evil. When this jangle of free- will and instinct shall have been adjusted, when perfect understanding has given the former the power to replace the latter entirely, man will no longer vary. The nettle of understanding will yet point steadfast and unwavering to the distant pole of truth.