Why so? In the first place philosophy will account for this by
inbred sin, man's pride, love of power, selfishness, spite; perhaps
it will say in addition to this that the child's consciousness of
his own weakness makes him eager to use his strength, to convince
himself of it. But watch that broken down old man reduced in the
downward course of life to the weakness of a child; not only is he
quiet and peaceful, he would have all about him quiet and peaceful
too; the least change disturbs and troubles him, he would like to
see universal calm. How is it possible that similar feebleness and
similar passions should produce such different effects in age and
in infancy, if the original cause were not different? And where can
we find this difference in cause except in the bodily condition of
the two. The active principle, common to both, is growing in one
case and declining in the other; it is being formed in the one
and destroyed in the other; one is moving towards life, the other
towards death. The failing activity of the old man is centred in his
heart, the child's overflowing activity spreads abroad. He feels,
if we may say so, strong enough to give life to all about him. To
make or to destroy, it is all one to him; change is what he seeks,
and all change involves action. If he seems to enjoy destructive
activity it is only that it takes time to make things and very
little time to break them, so that the work of destruction accords
better with his eagerness.

While the Author of nature has given children this activity, He
takes care that it shall do little harm by giving them small power
to use it. But as soon as they can think of people as tools to be
used, they use them to carry out their wishes and to supplement
their own weakness. This is how they become tiresome, masterful,
imperious, naughty, and unmanageable; a development which does not