troublesome through its impetuosity. Some few perhaps will know how to restrain the individual craving, desirous of playing the tyrant, by giving all their other known cravings a temporary encouragement and festive time, and bidding them devour the food which the tyrant wanted for himself. Sixtlily and lastly, he who can endure it and who thinks it reasonable to weaken and suppress his whole plıysical and spiritual organisation, thereby, of course, likewise attains his purpose of weak-ening a single impetuous craving: as, for instance, those who, like unto the asceties, starve their sensuality but, at the same time, starve and degrade their physical strength and, not infrequently, their reason. Hence, slumning the opportunities, implanting order into the craving, producing surfeit and disgust thereat, and bringing about the association of an angnishing thought (as that of disgrace, of evil consequences, or of offended pride), the dislocation of forces, and, lastly, the general debilitation and exhaustion; these are the six methods. But it is not in our power to be willing to fight at all against the impetuosity of a craving, or to determine which method we should choose, or whether we succeed by this method. On the contrary, our intellect, during this whole process, is evidently nothing but the blind tool of another craving, a rival of that one which torments us with its impetuosity: be it the craving for rest, or the fear of disgrace and other evil consequences, or love. While we thus imagine that we are
