value, so that we are called upon to recognize as valuable that by which our fundamental notions of value are set at naught.

By studying certain sides of organic process people arrive at a particular hypothesis of the nature of the process. They erect this hypothesis into an universal and necessary law, and straightway call upon everyone else to acknowledge the law and conform to it in action. They do not see that they have passed from one sense of law to another, that they have confused a generalization with a command, and a statement of facts with a principle of action. They accordingly miss the starting point from which a distinct conception of progress and its relation to human effort becomes possible. But for any useful theory of the bearing of evolution on social effort this conception is vital. We can get no light upon the subject unless we begin with the clear perception that the object of social effort is the realization of ends to which human beings can rationally attach value, that is to say, the realization of ethical ends; and this being understood, we may suitably use the term progress of any steps leading towards such realization.

Our conclusion so far is that the nature of social progress cannot be determined by barely examining the actual conditions of social evolution. Evolution and progress are not the same thing. They may be opposed. They might even be so fundamentally opposed that progress would be impossible.

Because of the influence of biological notions on social and economic thought, one phase of the Darwinian theory must be noted. The main effect of his work in the world of science was to generate the conception of the progress of organic forms by means of a continuous struggle for existence wherein those best fitted by natural endowment to cope with the surroundings would tend to survive. In our field, after Darwin, it began to be held that man, in spite of his philosophy, was still an animal, still subject to the same laws of reproduction and variation, still modifiable in the same manner by the indirect selections of the individuals best fitted to their environment. The biological social philosopher had not to trouble himself about what was best; nor, like the social investigator, to remain in doubt as to the broadest principles regulating the life of society. On both these questions his doubts were already solved by what he had learned in biology itself. The best was that which survived, and the persistent elimination of the unfit was the one method generally necessary to secure the survival of the best. Armed with this generalization he found himself able to view the world at large with much complacency.

To him life was constantly and necessarily growing better. In every species the least fit were always being destroyed and the

No doubt there

standard of the survivors proportionately raised. remained in every society many features which at first sight seemed objectionable. But here again the evolutionist was in the happy position of being able to verify the existence of a soul of goodness in things evil. Was there acute industrial competition? It was the process by which the fittest came to the top. Were the losers in the struggle left to welter in dire poverty? They would the sooner die out. Were housing conditions a disgrace to civilization? They were the natural environment of an unfit class, and the means whereby such a class prepared the way for its own extinction. Was infant mortality excessive? It weeded out the sickly and the weaklings. Was there pestilence or famine? So many more of the unfit would perish. Did tuberculosis claim a heavy toll? The tubercular germs are great selectors skilled at probing the weak spots of living tissue. Were there wars and rumors of wars? War alone would give to the conquering race its due, the inheritance of the earth. In a word the only blot that the evolutionist could see upon the picture was the "maudlin sentiment" which seeks to hold out a hand to those who are down. The one sinner against progress is the man who tries to save the lamb from the wolf. Could we abolish this unscientific individual, the prospects of the world would be unclouded.

Yet, before we apply biological conceptions to social affairs, we generally suppose that the highest ethics is that which expresses the completest mutual sympathy and the most highly evolved society that in which the efforts of its members are most completely coördinated to common ends, in which discord is most fully subdued to harmony. Accordingly we are driven to one of two alternatives. Either our valuations are completely false, our notions of higher or lower unmeaning, or progress does not depend upon the naked struggle for existence. The biologist would cheerfully accept the first alternative. As we have already seen, he is disposed to tell us that we vainly seek to distort truth by importing our ethical standards. He is quite ready to insist that we must subordinate our judgments of value to the survival test. We must judge good that which succeeds. Unfortunately for him at that stage his whole theory becomes a barren tautology. Progress now in his view results from the survival of the fittest, because progress is the process wherein the fittest survive. Again it is always the fittest who survive, because the fact of their survival proves their fitness

In our study of the supposed forward movement of mankind, let us begin with two comparatively easy lines of inquiry: the physical characteristics of the human species, and the conditions under which the species has to live; and let us see what conclusions can be reached by examining these.

Additions to the number of the human race are popularly treated as if they were an undoubted benefit. We see every nation and every community regarding its own increase as something to be proud of. But is the increase of the race any gain to the race? The population of Europe is three or four times, and that of North America twenty times, as large as it was two centuries ago. This proves that there is much more food available for the support of life, much more production of all sorts of commodities, and in particular an immense increase in the area of land used for producing food, with an improvement in the methods of extracting food from the land. So the growth of a city like Boston or Chicago proves that there has been an immense increase in industry. Men work harder, or at any rate more efficiently, and have far better appliances for production at their command.

Whether they live happier lives is another matter. It used to be said that he who made two ears of corn grow where only one ear had grown before was a benefactor to the race. Is that necessarily so? The number of men who can live off the soil is larger, but the men need not be better off. If there is more food, there are also more mouths. Their lives may be just as hard, their enjoyments just as limited. Some parts of the earth are already too crowded for comfort. The notion that population is per se a benefit and a mark of progress seems to be largely a survival from a time when each tribe or city needed all the arms it could maintain, to wield sword and spear against its enemies. "As arrows in the hands of a giant, even so are young children," says the Psalmist; and when men are needed to fight against the Hittites, this is a natural reflection. It may also be due partly to an unthinking association between growth and prosperity.

Let us pass to quality. The most remarkable fact of the last few centuries has been the relatively more rapid growth of those whom we call the more advanced races, Teutonic, Celtic, and Slavonic. Nineteen centuries ago there were probably less than ten

Adapted from an article in the Atlantic Monthly, C, 147-156. Copy right (1907).

There are today

million people belonging to these three races. probably over three hundred and fifty million, while the so-called backward races have increased more slowly, and are now everywhere under the control of the more advanced races. In duration of life, too, there is unquestionably an improvement. Lunacy, however, is increasing. This seems to imply that there are factors in modern life which tend to breed disorders in the brain. In this connection a still more serious question arises.

The law of differentiation and improvement by means of natural selection and the survival of the fittest may reasonably be thought to have done its work during the earlier period of the history of mankind. The races which have survived and come to dominate the earth have been the stronger races; and, while strife lasted, there has always been a tendency for physical strength and intelligence to go on increasing. The upper classes in every community were always stronger and handsomer than the classes at the bottom of the scale. The birth-rate was probably higher among the aristocrats, and the chance of the survival of infants better. But in modern society the case is quite otherwise. The richer and more educated classes marry later and as a rule have smaller families than the poorer class, whose physique is generally weaker and whose intelligence is generally on a somewhat lower level. The result is that a class in which physical strength and a cultivated intelligence are hereditary increases more slowly than do classes inferior in these qualities. Fortunately, the lines of class distinction are much less sharply drawn than they were some centuries ago. The upper class is always being recruited by persons of energy and intellect from the poorer classes. Still we have here a new cause which may tend to depress the average level of human capacity.

The improvement, so far as attained, in the physical quality of mankind is largely due to such changes in its environment as the greater abundance of food and clothing, the better conditions of housing, the diffusion of property among all classes in the community. Along these lines the improvement has been extraordinary. The luxury of the rich, the comfort of the middle class, the comparative immunity of the poorer classes from famine and pestilence, have increased within the last two centuries more than they had during many preceding centuries.

Most remarkable of all has been the cause of these improvements, namely, the increase in our knowledge of natural laws and the power over natural forces which has been thereby acquired. Man has now, by comprehending Nature, become her master. These are the things which are commonly in our mind when we talk of

Progress. It is the wonderful gains made in these things which are visible and tangible and which affect our daily life at every turn that have struck the popular mind, and have seemed to mark, not only a long onward step, but the certainty of further advance. Material progress has seemed to sweep everything else along with it.

Whether this be so is the very question we have to consider. Does our increased knowledge and command of nature, do all those benefits and comforts which that mastery has secured, so greatly facilitate intellectual and moral progress that we may safely assume that there will be an increase in intelligence, in virtue, and in all that is covered by the word Happiness? It seems hard not to believe it.

Certainly we see under these new conditions less anxiety, less occupation with the hard necessities of finding food and clothing. Work itself is less laborious, because more largely done by machinery. There is more leisure that can be used for the acquisition of knowledge and for setting thought free to play upon subjects other than practical. The opportunities for obtaining knowledge have been extended and cheapened. Transportation has become cheap, easy, and swift, enriching and refreshing the mind by foreign travel. Works of art are produced more abundantly. The mere increase of population and purchasing power has a favoring influence upon intellect, because there is more demand for the products of intellect and more persons employed in their production. Thus it is clear that material progress provided at least unprecedented facilities and opportunities for intellectual progress. And the quantity of intellectual activity has enormously increased.

Quality, however, must also be considered. Plato hinted that the invention of writing had weakened the powers of the human mind. We may well doubt whether the intellectual excellence of the age can be measured by the number of speeches or the amount of printed matter it produces, and whether the incessant reading of newspapers and magazines tends on the whole to strengthen the habit of thinking.

Material progress has affected the forms which intellectual activity takes and the lines of inquiry which it follows. But there is no evidence that it has done more to strengthen than to depress the intensity and originality and creative energy of intellect itself; nor have these qualities shown themselves more abundant as the population of the earth has increased. And, as for accomplishment intellectually, may there not be a limit to this kind of advance, and may we not be approaching that limit?

But, if it has proved difficult to say how far material progress and the diffusion and extension of knowledge have stimulated and