Being in search of the essence of character, the _really_ "real man," we cannot accept anything which may vanish or be surmounted, nothing which in the normal course of individual evolution, gone far enough, will for certain be surmounted. No man is essentially a thief, but he may be essentially a hero or a poet or both. Consider the question in the light of evolution, the evolution of each of us. We sometimes make imaginary pictures of the ripened humanity of the far future, a noble flower of which there are as yet but indications of the bud. Let us add another touch. Let us recognize in that far humanity, however godlike, _ourselves_. Many, many births and lifetimes and deaths lie between this and that for all of us. But the lines of continuity are unbroken. It is we ourselves who shall be that splendid and radiant humanity. The evolution of the human race means the evolution of the present members of the human race. We shall "meet each other in heaven" because we are always children of the earth that will _be_ that heaven. We note that some qualities, such as a tendency to theft, have every encouragement to vanish. Sooner or later, in one or another lifetime, they bring about so much disgrace and pain or are found so incompatible with an ever increasing love of right and inner peace, that they are cast out and away, are outgrown and done with. The last dirty fiber is ripped out of the ever perfecting pattern. On the other hand the germs of some other qualities will have a constant and in the long run irresistible tendency to grow, root and branch. Shall we say "real character" of traits destined to grow or of those destined to disappear? So far we only use the words of so much as we can see of a man: a poor enough application. We talk of the "respectable citizen," and behold a thief. In the next change the thief "turns out to be a hero"; and whilst we are admiring the hero we are invited to read a volume of poetry. We had better restrict the words "real character" to that which time shall at last unveil and develop, to the permanent germs and their ripened product; not to the spores and fungi which, however noticeable now, will sometime be entirely cleaned away. _There is no thief; there are men who thieve_--at present, but who will cease to do so. There _are_ poets and heroes; for these men will not only not cease to create and do, but will create and do more and more worthily as they go forward through time to the great light. There are some men whom _no_ stress of temptation would force into theft. Are there any men in whom _no_ circumstances would evoke some smallest gleam of heroism?