_The tendency has been to refer a group of sentiments to some single root in human nature._ That is only natural; for it is always satisfactory to simplify; and when once the investigator has hit upon what he takes to be the primule or germ of later development, he is prepared to accept whatever makes for his theory and to reject whatever tells against it (p. 98). Yet we must remind ourselves that man’s instinctive tendencies are not carried intact throughout his history; man reasons, as we said (p. 210), on the basis of fragments of instinctive tendency, disjoined from their original connections and recombined to suit the occasion. _We may, for instance, refer the intellectual sentiments to a native curiosity_ (p. 205); but what is curiosity? A very mixed medley of instinctive responses: Professor Thorndike includes under it “attention to novel objects and human behaviour, cautious approach, reaching and grasping, the food-trying reactions of putting in the mouth, tasting and biting, general exploration with the eyes and manipulation with the hands,” as well as “the love of sensory life for its own sake.” Again, _we may refer the moral and social sentiments to a native sympathy or empathy_; but here, also, we should find, in the concrete, a mixed medley of particular responses. These references are, nevertheless, fairly satisfactory. What shall we say of religion and art? _There seems to be no original artistic tendency or art-instinct._ In primitive times, the body was decorated with a view to attracting notice, and especially to attracting a mate. Then, by slow degrees, decoration travelled from person to surroundings: first, from the body to the clothes, and then again from clothes to house. But as the primitive house is a rude structure, and its owner poor, not much can be done by way of individual house-adornment; and so we find the members of a tribe clubbing together, so to speak, to decorate the common house, the temple. Æsthetics now enters into the service of religion. Again: as the tribes settled down to agricultural pursuits, man became a labourer and learned to work; systematic and regular work grew to be a necessity. But work means play; if we labour, we must also have recreation. How, then, shall grown-up people play? They have lost their interest in childish games. Æsthetics comes to the rescue; art is the play, the proper recreation, of grown-up workers; we speak, and speak rightly, of Shakespeare’s ‘plays’ and of ‘playing’ the violin. Æsthetics has now lost its distinctively religious meaning, and has been turned to secular purposes.