them again. This may be due in some measure to our limitations, but it is these limitations that the artist must take into account. We have, however, some reason to believe that much of Æ.'s obscurity is deliberate, or at least conscious. For when he is roused to rage he becomes cold and clear. When he wishes to express anger or disgust towards men and conditions, all his immutable immensities go by the board. He ceases to be the prophet of pantheism, seeing the universal in the smallest of things and the immortality of Nothingness at the end of all. He denies the kingship of the beggar and the divinity of the worm. He becomes Nietzschean in his contempt for humility:
He asks with the Old Aristocrat:
He feels the reality and hates the oppression of death:
