The perfected spirit is the end of creative Nature.
For it, the gaseous
ocean of the beginning existed—for it, the igneous ball rolled through
the vast space for ages—for it, one form of life after another came,
type following type, and degree succeeding degree in endless mutations.
Man is the bud, the spirit, the unfolding flower of Nature, which will
go on unfolding its powers until it reaches the throne of the Omnipotent Mind.

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