At one end of the ascending scale of organic life we see an animalcule swimming in the direction in which it is attracted by food. At the other end, we find a man in the full flush of conscious life going deliberately to a shocking death rather than deny his faith or break a trust. What is the essential difference between the action of the animalcule and that of the martyr? To the Determinist there is none. Both are alike the inevitable response to certain stimuli from the outside world acting on a certain nervous system. But there is one difference in the _circumstances_ of the action which will be admitted by all. The animalcule has no _choice_. The martyr has. The animalcule-consciousness has not been developed to the point at which it can take in alternative courses of action and compare them with one another. It is doubtful to me whether any of the lower animals or even of the lower races of man can really do this. At any rate there can clearly be no Will where there is no distinct consciousness of at least two possible courses of action. The Will, therefore, must be regarded as coming for the first time into action when a certain stage in the development of consciousness has been reached, the stage at which man is fully conscious of more than one motive. Furthermore, even when the consciousness has been developed to this point we cannot recognize a true act of will unless, _on that particular occasion_, two or more motives were fully present. For instance, a lad brought up in a thieves’ kitchen, when he sees an opportunity for stealing a purse, cannot properly be said to have any counter-motive to the theft. And common sense, without having philosophically analyzed the matter, quite recognizes this position of affairs and graduates the moral responsibility of every criminal action roughly in accordance with the facilities which the subject has had for ‘knowing better.’ Two or more motives, then, fully present to consciousness, form the conditions under which alone the Will can be said to act. This is in accord with the whole scheme of evolution. The presence of certain conditions gradually evokes the faculty or organ which deals with them. But here an important question arises. When these motives differ from each other morally, can the Will be said ever to choose the evil one? Has it any moral bent? And if not, what is the use of it? There is no doubt that the ascription to the Will of a certain moral character, and that a very lofty one, is characteristic of nearly all thinkers who accept its existence at all. “Ill for him,” writes Tennyson in lines of Sophoclean dignity, “Who, bettering not with time Corrupts the strength of heaven-descended Will,” as though evil came from the corruption and slackness of Will, not from its wrong direction.