But suppose in reference to a given kind of body we neglect all those differences in behavior that make neither for nor against the accomplishment of a purpose we have ascribed to it. Will not the grain of corn spring up in this field or in that? Will not the human being pass through the cycle of life in this age and country, or in that? And in so far as he carries out the purposes of his being in various surroundings, whatever difference of detail in his way of doing it, may we not say that man has a nature of his own independent of his environment? Finally is not this just what we mean by being free: the ability to carry out one’s end independently of the circumstances in which one is placed? On the other hand is not an inability to win out under all circumstances just what we mean by bondage? There is then no reason why we should not recognize freedom and bondage, good and evil, in certain _parts_ of a world that atom by atom is mechanical and purposeless in its constitution. * * * * * Having presented this central idea, we may now follow with greater ease Spinoza’s account of the degree of freedom of which a man is capable, of the use of this freedom which we should call good, and finally of the rewards of a “good life.” Here we seem to have asked three questions because we have followed the general ideas on the subject. To these questions, however, Spinoza would return a single answer. To be good, to be free, to be blessed mean one and the same thing. It is a divine thought, if only it can be made to appear. First then let us note that we habitually distinguish the forms of life as higher and lower; the grain of corn is lower than the bee, the bee is lower than the man. If we ask ourselves what we mean by this distinction, we shall find I think that we refer to the difference of the degree to which these forms are capable of carrying out a given purpose whatever the environment. The biologist would say they differ in adaptability. Take merely the common end of self-preservation: the grain of corn is lost if it fall on rocky ground or among the thorns. It can do nothing to save itself. To the bee these circumstances are indifferent, yet it in turn would succumb to a blight of the flowers. To the man, this would be but a small matter and we enjoy losing ourselves in admiration of the ingenuity with which he manages to subsist under the most unusual and threatening conditions. In a word, the higher the form of life, the greater the freedom from environment; the lower, the greater the bondage to circumstance. What now in the future of a thing determines its degree of freedom? Spinoza studies the question only within the domain of human life. Within this domain his answer is striking: Freedom comes with knowledge; ignorance is bondage.