"Kant says (Werke, vii. p. 381): “One must indeed make an ill reckoning of the worth of the journey (of life) if one can still wish that it should last longer than it actually does, for that would only be a prolongation of a perpetual contest with sheer hardships.” Page 393, he calls life “a trial-time, wherein most succumb, and in which even the best does not rejoice in his life.” Fichte declares the natural world to be the very worst that can be, and is himself only consoled by the belief in the possibility of a preferment to the blessedness of a supersensible world through the medium of pure thought. He says (Werke, v. pp. 408–409): “Courageously men betake themselves to the chase after felicity, heartily appropriating and fondly devoting themselves to the first best object that pleases them and that promises to repay their efforts. But as soon as they withdraw into themselves and ask themselves, ‘Am I now happy?’ the reply comes distinctly from the depth of their soul, ‘Oh, no; thou art still just as empty and destitute as before!’ Convinced that this is a true deliverance, they imagine that they have failed only in the choice of their object, and throw themselves upon another. This, too, will just as little content them as the first; no object beneath the sun and moon will satisfy them. . . . Thus they pine and fret their life through; in every situation in which they find themselves, thinking if it were only different how much better their lot would be, and yet, after it has changed, finding themselves no better off than before; at every spot at which they stand, supposing if they could only reach yon height their uneasiness would cease, yet finding again, even on the height, their old woe. . . . Perhaps they even resign the hope of satisfaction in this earthly life, but accept in compensation a certain traditional doctrine concerning a blessedness beyond the grave. In what a deplorable illusion are they caught! Quite certainly, indeed, lies blessedness also beyond the grave for him for whom it has already begun on this side; through the mere interment, however, one does not enter into blessedness; and they will in the future life, and in the infinite series of all future lives, just as vainly seek blessedness as they have sought it in the present life, if they seek it in anything else than in that which already encircles them so closely here that it can never be brought nearer to them in endless time, in the Eternal.—Thus, then, errs the poor offspring of eternity, thrust out of his paternal abode, always surrounded by his celestial heritage, which his timid hand fears only to touch, inconstant, and roaming in the waste, endeavouring in vain to settle; fortunately, through the speedy ruin of all his habitations, reminded that he will nowhere find rest but in his father’s house.”"