in which the heart of human experience is involved. In some people, for example, the problem of the will is inseparably allied with an exceedingly sensitive temperament. On the surface this appears to be a question of weakness of will. Then there are those who are temperamentally positive, hence of strong will. The one appears to make too little of the will while the other makes too much. Yet self-assertion plays its part in both types. Then there is the question of the obstinate will, the problem of freedom, and of moral regeneration.

Looking first at the will on the side of its unruliness, we are constrained to acknowledge that, whether sensitive or strenuous, obstinate or weak, there is in us all a fairly large element of inertia bound up with this lump of clay. Most of us like to be waited on, and if we can command the resources we are not only pleased that others should serve us, but we intend to command as long as possible. When ill we are content to have the utmost made of our aches and pains, unless experience has taught us more than common wisdom. The wits of physicians and ministers of all schools are taxed to the utmost in the endeavour to arouse the selfish will. The problem of the arousing of the will is indeed the problem of human life.

Note, however, what happens in the homes of the poor where "necessity is the mother of invention,"