In putting this question, children may be asked to suggest characteristics which distinguish man from animals. If gradually they hit upon clothes and fire and speech they will do well.

Clothes may be defined as artificial covering removable at will; “artificial” meaning made by an artificer, or manufactured, as opposed to natural growth, like fur. But the changes of covering among animals should not be overlooked: moulting for instance, renewal of skin necessitated by growth, protective change of colour at summer and winter, and so on.

The discovery of Fire is a thing to be emphasised, because familiarity with lucifer matches is liable to engender contempt for this great pre-historic discovery. People should realise that at one time the production of flame de novo was extremely difficult: the ordinary method of lighting fires being to keep some one fire always alight, so that brands could be ignited at it and thus it could be spread. The fact that lighting other fires does not diminish or weaken the original stock, is noteworthy, and is an analogy with life which may be typified by oaks and acorns—any number of trees arising from a parent stock, and spreading for innumerable generations. The ancient ceremony of keeping flames alight on sacred altars was doubtless due to the difficulty of re-ignition when every fire in a village had accidentally become extinguished. That the ancients valued fire highly, and felt strongly the difficulty of generating it, is shown by the legend that the first fire must have been stolen from heaven; and the priests taught, as usual in barbarous times, that the gods were jealous and angry at man’s discoveries and the progress of science.

Speech and language is a most vital characteristic of manhood, and is largely responsible for the chasm between him and other animals. The gestures and noises of animals must not be overlooked, however, and they often seem to have mysterious modes of communication of some kind. But they have nothing akin to writing, and this portentous discovery enables not merely communication between contemporary living men, but an accumulation of information and experience throughout the centuries; so that a man is no longer dependent solely on his own individual experience, but is able to draw upon the records and wisdom of the past. Owing to this power of recording and handing on information, a discovery once made becomes the possession of the human race henceforth for ever—unless it relapses into barbarism.

None of these characteristics, however, is emphasised in the clause, because they lead too far afield if pursued. For our present purpose we regard the sense of “conscience,” suggested by the previous answer, as the most important and highest characteristic of all,—the sense of responsibility, the power of self-determination, the building up of character, so that ultimately it becomes impossible to be actuated by unworthy motives. Our actions are now controlled not by external impulses only, but largely by our own characters and wills. The man who is the creature of impulse, or the slave of his passions, cannot be said to be his own master, or to be really free; he drifts hither and thither according to the caprice or the temptation of the moment, he is untrustworthy and without solidity or dignity of character. The free man is he who can control himself, who does not obey every idea as it occurs to him, but weighs and determines for himself, and is not at the mercy of external influences. This is the real meaning of choice and free will. It does not mean that actions are capricious and undetermined; but that they are determined by nothing less than the totality of things. They are not determined by the external world alone, so that they can be calculated and predicted from outside: they are determined by self and external world together. A free man is the master of his motives, and selects that motive which he wills to obey.

If he chooses wrongly, he suffers; he is liable also to make others suffer, and he feels remorse. In a high grade of existence no other punishment is necessary. Artificial punishment has for its object the production of artificial remorse, in creatures too low as yet for the genuine feeling. Artificial punishment can be easily exaggerated and misapplied, and should be employed with extreme caution. It is always ambitious and often dangerous, though sometimes justifiable and necessary, to attempt to take the place of Providence. Even between parents and children, enforcement of another’s will may be overdone, till the power of self-control and the instinct of duty are impaired.

The sense of responsibility inevitably grows with power and knowledge, and is proportional thereto. By means of drugs a grown man may enfeeble his will till he becomes in some sense irresponsible for his actions; but he is not irresponsible for his wilful destruction of a human faculty; and in so far as he is dangerous to others he must be treated accordingly.

The struggle in man’s nature between the better and the worse elements,—sometimes spoken of as a struggle between dual personalities, and otherwise depicted as a conflict between the flesh and the spirit,—is a natural consequence of our double ancestry (spoken of in Clause XII.), our ascent from animal fellow-creatures, and our relationship with a higher order of being. No man in his sober senses really wills to do evil: he does it with some motive which he tries to think justifies it; or else he does it against his real will because mastered by something lower. So Plato teaches in the Gorgias. And St. Paul says the same thing:

“The good which I would, I do not; but the evil which I would not, that I do.”

The conflict is often a period of torment and misery. “O, wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?”

Whenever the better nature prevails in the struggle, there is a mystic sense of strength and comfort universally testified to by humanity, even though the victory results in temporal loss or persecution; “in all these things we are more than conquerors.” And this fact corresponds with part of the answer to Question 6 below.

We can recognise that our evil impulses are the natural remnant of bestial ancestry, and need not be due to diabolical promptings. An animal, though perhaps innocent from lack of knowledge, is bound and enslaved by its instincts; for instance, the apparently intelligent and social bee is driven by racial instincts into a prescribed course of action; a cat can no more refrain from trying to catch a bird than a man of high nature can allow himself to commit a crime.

The weak man often allows his brute nature to get the upper hand and enslave his higher self, and he hates himself afterwards for the degradation so caused; but the strong and free man takes control, and dominates his animal nature.