of sense an inner world of thought-relations.  Now constructive imagination is the queen of those mental functions which meet in what we loosely term “thought”; and imagination is ever most active where, on the outer fringe of the mind’s routine work, our inarticulate questionings radiate into the unknown.  When the genius has his vision, almost invariably, among the ruder peoples, it is accepted by himself and his society as something supernormal and sacred, whether its fruit be an act of leadership or an edict, a practical invention or a work of art, a story of the past or a prophecy, a cure or a devastating curse.  Moreover, social tradition treasures the memory of these revelations, and, blending them with the contributions of humbler folk—­for all of us dream our dreams—­provides in myth and legend and tale, as well as in manifold other art-forms, a stimulus to the inspiration of future generations.  For most purposes fine art, at any rate during its more rudimentary stages, may be studied in connection with religion.

So far as law and religion will not account for the varieties of social behaviour, the novice may most conveniently consider them under the head of morals.  The forms of social intercourse, the fashions, the festivities, are imposed on us by our fellows from without, and none the less effectively because as a general rule we fall in with them as a matter of course.  The difference between manners and morals of the higher order is due simply to the more pressing need, in the case of our most serious duties, of a reflective sanction, a “moral sense,” to break us in to the common service.  It is no easy task to keep legal and religious penalties or rewards out of the reckoning, when trying to frame an estimate of what the notions of right and wrong, prevalent in a given society, amount to in themselves; nevertheless, it is worth doing, and valuable collections of material exist to aid the work.  The facts about education, which even amongst rude peoples is often carried on far into manhood, throw much light on this problem.  So do the moralizings embodied the traditional lore of the folk—­the proverbs, the beast-fables, the stories of heroes.

There remains the individual to be studied in himself.  If the individual be ignored by social science, as would sometimes appear to be the case, so much the worse for social science, which, to a corresponding extent, falls short of being truly anthropological.  Throughout the history of man, our beginner should be on the look-out for the signs, and the effects, of personal initiative.  Freedom of choice, of course, is limited by what there is to choose from; so that the development of what may be termed social opportunity should be concurrently reviewed.  Again, it is the aim of every moral system so to educate each man that his directive self may be as far as possible identified with his social self.  Even suicide is not a man’s own affair, according to the voice of society which speaks in the moral code.  Nevertheless, lest the important truth be overlooked that social control implies a will that must meet the control half-way, it is well for the student of man to pay separate and special attention to the individual agent.  The last word in anthropology is:  Know thyself.