llji ! » j ji ! ilj :' : i ! ! iilli! i Pill' Southern Branch of the University of California Los Angeles Form L 1 66 D34 This book is DUE on the last date stamped beloi JAN 2 3 1925 APR 2 7 1925 OCT o o » UN , i e ,- of interests c ass ma y "e arrave d against class, tactions and sects in politics and religion against one another, powerful personalities may be led into opposition through differing interests, or nations in their careers of conquest may endeavor to compel conquered peoples to conform in their civilization to the demands of the conqueror, as is the case to-day in Ireland, Poland, Finland, Alsace-Lorraine, India and Korea. The phe- nomena in such struggles are practically uniform, if varying conditions are taken into account; racial experience is large and laws and principles are so well understood, that it has now become possible to work out a telic policy which reduces social friction to a minimum. The newer age will be marked by telic applications of SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY 87 sociological principles to the social struggles in society, with the aim of harmonizing the conflicting interests and standards of life. (5) Attention has already been called to a simple form of social imitation, viz. when each new generation in Semi-con- a s ^ a ^ic civilization automatically adopts scious the customs and beliefs of its ancestors. A imitation. j egg sta ^] e f orm j s developed when through suggestion from recognized leaders or the prestige of a powerful class, whole populations or masses of human beings tend to imitate the fads, fashions and standards of the leaders or class patterned after. As these change periodically, the imitation is not uncon- scious but yet is based on an unreflecting form of imitation. It is semi-conscious and is determined in the main by social suggestion and mass response. Fashions in dress for both sexes vary at regular inter- vals; the bicycle fad is followed by the automobile, which in its turn may be followed by aerial or sub- marine navigation; reforms appear in waves, and new sports come and go, lending variety to the national game. The prevalence of these imitative fads in the United States is probably due to the influence of the newspaper and the skill of advertisers, both of which are more fully developed as social agencies in this country than anywhere else on the face of the earth. (6) There is, however, a higher typei conscious or rational imitation, which may be observed when an intelligent man or a class or a society, studies the differing systems and standards about him, and con- sciously, after reflection, chooses to imitate something 88 SOCIOLOGY better than what he or it has already attained. This represents the highest order of imitation and is found at its best in highly civilized groups who imitation 3 rea hze the importance of having at their command the newer knowledge of the times. Illustrations of conscious imitation are becoming increasingly familiar through the custom of employ- ing commissions or congresses, local, national or inter- national, to study out by comparison and reflection the most suitable policy for a proposed activity. Sec- ondly, in the rapid adoption of material and cultural achievements made by nations other than the imitator, and thirdly, through the growing use of great national conventions, such as those gathered under the initiative of the National Civic Federation, convened for the pur- pose of exchanging ideas and agreeing on a proper policy in respect to the subject under discussion. Such policies when formulated receive the support and assent of many thoughtful persons, who accept the decision made by the whole body even though it may differ in detail from their own conclusions. From such studies of the several classes of psycho- sociological phenomena arise the processes of socialization and social control. Dr. Edward A. Ross, 1 control m n * s excen " eir k work entitled "Social Con- trol," shows the several factors and agencies to be taken into account when one considers the mould- ing influences of society. The sociologist is interested in seeking to make so clear the principles involved in social control that society may definitely and thought- 1 See also his "Social Psychology." SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY 89 fully plan to make its control more effective by elimi- nating as far as possible lower and inefficient social activities, and lending encouragement and aid to those agencies that build up powerful social forces, and intel- lects capable of controlling these for social purposes. In so doing the members of society become socialized in that they become sympathetic one with another and learn the art of cooperative activity. This process of socialization, not in the sense of the simple imitation of static civilization, but through the a gencies o f^ rational suggestion and imitation, will be an end ever to be kept in mind bj' the student of social psychology. As society therefore grows more self-conscious and more rational in its methods, the study of the interaction of society and its members will become increasingly important. For this reason it seems clear that when psychological phenomena arise as the result of con- flicting standards in social life, or as the result of the predominance of an individual standard over a group, or a group standard over individuals, it will be neces- sary to specialize such studies as a separate science and to consider it as a part of sociology, since this has taken as its province social phenomena, and seeks to understand the social forces so as to promote a con- structive policy in social development. CHAPTER V THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS » Attention has already been called to the distinc- tion between the civilization and achievement of ani- inteiiect as ma l s an d of man. 2 The animal, it will be a social remembered, accomplishes its results in the main automatically and instinctively; man, on the other hand, achieves through reason and for the accomplishment of a definite purpose in the mind. A similar distinction should be made be- tween the instinctive feelings and interests of the animal and the reasoned basis for the activities of the man. All of the higher animals, including man, instinc- tively act under the stimulus of the primary feelings of hunger and love. The promptings of hunger and sexual appetite are imperious and must be satisfied at all hazards as long as they are mere instincts. But in man's case, at least, his intellect slowly develops as a factor in the situation, and becomes a guide to these primitive impulses. It checks and regulates, or even 1 In illustration of many points in the discussion contained in the chapters under this heading, note the following as typical references: E. Westermarck, "Origin and Growth of the Moral Ideas," 2 vols.; L. T. Hobhouse, "Morals in Evolution," 2 vols.; W. G. Sumner, "Folkways"; and Dewey and Tufts, "Ethics." 3 Pages 58, 59. 90 THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 91 suppresses them as in voluntary fasting and celibacy, so as to accomplish other conflicting purposes sug- gested by the mind. Sociologically speaking, there- fore, it is important to understand how the intellect of man has been able to guide and control these funda- mental feelings, and how economic and domestic institu- tions have arisen and developed in the process. From these two primitive and fundamental human impulses or desires have probably differentiated all the other human feelings and wants, and these in their turn have come under the guidance of the intellect, with the resultant development of appropriate social institutions for cultural purposes. In this way the bond of connection among all social institutions is found by noting their inter- relationship and their filiation, by tracing their deriva- tion from the two fundamental appetites and their corresponding institutions. This unity of social institutions may be shown in many ways, and sociologists are not yet agreed as The unity ^o which system of classification best in- of social dicates it : whether of social institutions, institutions. ph enomena> forces or interests. For instance, all fundamental social institutions may be listed and arranged in some order, either that of historical devel- opment or of logical connection or of filiation, and then their secondary or derived institutions shown as subordinate to these. Or again, social phenomena or activities may be arranged under appropriate headings and put in some definite order as in the case of insti- tutions. If psychological influences are strong, instead of fixing attention on institutions or phenomena, the 92 SOCIOLOGY fundamental feelings or desires or the interests that may exist in the mind as the result of reflection are listed and arranged in proper order. 1 In deciding on the number and relative importance of the fundamental forces or institutions listed, there are naturally variations and modifications due to the varying personalities of the several writers and their special modes' of interpretation, but they all practically agree in showing the inherent unity of social institu- tions and the basal importance of those that grow out of attempts to satisfy physical wants and needs. This unity of the social organism and its evolution from the simple activities of primitive social organization are important sociological teachings and should be made clear, first by a brief statement of the meaning of the term social institution, and then by an exposi- tion of the rise and development of the most important social institutions. It may be assumed as self-evident that every indi- vidual or social action is dictated by some dominant A social in- f ee l m S> desire or emotion, and that these stitution actions unitedly make up the field of phe- e e ' nomena of individual and social activities. These actions, of course, may be the result of con- scious or of instinctive, unconscious wants in the human or social organism. If the social wants are permanent, there arise definite and orderly modes of activity, which collectively make up the social institu- tion. Thus in primitive life the need for food stimu- 1 For illustrations of these, see Ross, "Foundations of Sociology." p. 165 et seq. THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 93 lated men to activity in hunting, 'and by a rude sort of reasoning based on experience, hunting in combination was seen to be advantageous. The customary methods of the hunt used by the hunting-band resulted in the formulation of definite rules and regulations of procedure. Hence in the growth of the institution of the hunting- band one may note the need or longing for food, reason- ing as to methods, the formulation of regulations, a definite organization and group activities. Whenever, therefore, human groups are driven by permanent desires to activity, there will regularly develop social institutions as a means and an aid to the satisfaction of their desires; these social institutions may develop almost automatically under the spur of necessity, or they may develop under the guidance of the intellect, and thus become susceptible of constant modification, varying according to the reasoning capacity of the group. The structure of the institution may remain apparently fixed, but its partb and the energy of it may undergo many modifications under the pressure of dynamic civilization. Marriage and government, for instance, as social institutions, are among the earliest achievements of civilization, but in detail and spirit these institutions present historically such wide varia- tions as to seem at times almost like new creations. Yet in essence they are the same now as they were thou- sands of years ago : in the one case is involved a regula- tion of human sexual relations, in the other a regula- tion of human warfare and economic struggle. It is a recognized fact l that social institutions as 1 For illustrations, see Ward's "Pure Sociology," pp. 53-59. 94 SOCIOLOGY they develop seem to follow a definite sequence which varies with environing conditions and the stage of men- The law in tality attained by the group. The essential develop- unity of the human mind in its processes ment * may inversely be shown from a study of the development of social institutions. If, for in- stance, men are similarly situated in respect to con- ditions of life and mental development, they will tend to develop similar institutions even though the groups are separated by thousands of miles. Hence the anthropologist and the ethnologist find many par- allelisms in customs, institutions and traits of human character among races widely apart but similarly sit- uated. This truth is one aspect of the so-called eco- nomic interpretation of history; one may assume that two races living under similar economic conditions for several generations will tend to develop the same kind of social institutions; e. g. the same types of domestic, religious and political organizations. The longer such conditions remain constant, the more closely the institutions will approximate toward com- mon types. This principle, of course, will seem tfaer in simple civilization. The complexity of advanced civilization introduces wider variations and retains more survivals from earlier stages. The development of social institutions can be studied also from the standpoint of their relationship one to another. The necessity of assuming the economic as the fundamental social institution is clear. Men must eat, and strenuous toil is necessary even yet for the mass of mankind to obtain sufficient food. Hence THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 95 economic institutions are primary in social theorizing. Next to this in fundamental order is the sexual impulse or desire -for mating. As civilization ad- Fihation and . relationship vanced, this natural feeling became subject of social in- ^ soc i a i regulation and developed the insti- stitutions. . .., , , . , . . . . tutions typified by formal marriage and legal kinship. As human beings gradually become associ- ated for the purpose of preserving and continuing life, in addition to the organization of the hunting-band and the family group, there came with growing intel- lectuality organizations for the observance of religious ceremonies and for offense and defense — the begin- nings of the state. In connection with all of these grew up a mass of custom and tradition representing the morals of the horde, which was passed on from generation to generation by social imitation, though formal instruction in the most important matters was given to the young. Again the development of esthetic feelings necessitated esthetic institutions for perpetuat- ing the standards of beauty and harmony recognized by the social group. What little philosophizing was done in those days was fanciful reasoning about the powers and phenomena of nature; it was veiled in legends and myths, and was chiefly identified with religious specu- lations. At a later period philosophy and rudimentary science were differentiated, developing their own meth- ods apart from religious speculation. Thus one may trace in early civilization the slow rise and develop- ment of economic, domestic, political, religious, moral, esthetic and educational institutions, with their numer- ous derived and secondary institutions, and so have in 96 SOCIOLOGY mind a picture of human development which must be of great assistance to a proper understanding of human history and thought. The study of the development of social institutions, so well begun by Spencer, 1 covers a wide field to-day in sociological investigation, and the results are con- tained in numerous works. As it is, however, impor- tant in anticipation of later chapters that the socio- logical process of development be comprehended at least in its fundamentals, the chief points in respect to the development of certain of the great classes of social institutions will be explained from the standpoint of sociology, emphasizing, as most important, dynamic changes and the rationalizing of the institutions them- selves. I. Economic Development There is a school of sociologists that tends to empha- size the supreme importance of natural physical con- influence of ditions as determining social development, natural From Plato to Buckle writers have called conditions. attent i on to tne influence of climate, the fertility of the soil, the necessity of mining-wealth and of commercial facilities in the form of good harbors and navigable rivers, and, for manufactures, natural energy such as falling water available for power. The argument is that man is largely the creature of his physical environment, and some by implication seem to assume that he has no control over it. The tendency to-day is to admit the force of 1 See pages 51, 52. THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 97 the principle, but to deny the implication. From the moment when man began to achieve, and pass from savagery to civilization he began to modify his physical environment. He modifies climate by clothing and housing, he adds to the productivity of the soil by right cultivation and by fertilizers; if good ports or rivers are lacking he digs harbors and transports his goods on canals or railways; if natural power in its older forms is insufficient he utilizes other forces of nature by the scientific development of steam and electricity; and if his own region fails to supply him with ores, he imports them from his neighbors. In other words, while man is largely determined by his environment, social as well as physical, he himself decides by intellectual processes what environment he desires to be subjected to, and then deliberately seeks to create about him such an environment. This he may do by the simple expedient of migration, and early human history is one long record of the migrations of peoples from less favored to asTfactor more favored parts of the earth. Migration in its peaceable form, and subject to inter- national regulation, is still a prominent factor in civiliza- tion. The distinction between the old and the new may be readily seen by comparing C&sar's treatment of migrat- ing Helvetians and Germans, with the American recep- tion of immigrants at Ellis Island, New York. Migra- tion, however, is a temporary expedient and in civilizing influence is low in grade when compared with read- justments within the social group so as to meet satis- factorily newer conditions. Migration on a large scale 98 SOCIOLOGY is looked on with decreasing favor, and each state henceforth will probably tend to retain its own popu- lation, as its most valuable asset, by proper readjust- ments of its economic system. If economic development depends so largely on the physical conditions already alluded to, it is easy to see that the economic history of man could be The demand v 1 .• i- • ■- j. for foods shown by noting his increasing capacity to dictate the kind of physical environment under which he desires to live. Now the fundamental economic desire is the demand for food. Man must eat to live and hence the fundamental and most impor- tant human activity is the search for foods. A person well supplied with nourishing food has a good basis for all other forms of development. No race poorly fed on improper food can make any great social advance. A variety of good foods regularly supplied and wisely used is a social necessity. Unquestionably we are just passing into a more scientific period in respect to food supplies. Science will yet dictate the kinds and quan- tity of food needed for high development. Meanwhile faddists, "poison squads" and pure food laws show the trend of the times toward a better comprehension of what constitutes a scientific food. In primitive days, however, men were more deeply concerned with the quantity than with the quality of food. When food was abundant they gorged, oMoods 1 ^ 6 at otner times they starved; fresh or putrid, raw or cooked, coarse or delicate, vegetable, animal or human, all was promptly transferred to their stomachs. It was a great advance when men began to THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 99 exercise forethought by forbearing to eat all on hand, having learned how to dry foods in the sun and so to preserve them against times of scarcity. An echo of this achievement belongs to our generation, when through the development of the canning industry and of the process of making artificial ice, the refrigerator car and steamer, and the cold-storage plant became possible, thus largely increasing our capacity to pre- serve for long periods perishable foods. Because of these developments the tropics will furnish to the temperate zones increasingly larger stores of fruits and flesh foods, and become thereby the center of a great economic activity. 1 Another achievement was made when, whether by chance or intention, animals were domesticated, prob- Nomadism a ^^ through woman's ingenuity and desire and agri- for an assured food supply for her children. The economic importance of this is easily seen. In the dog, man had an assistant in the chase and if necessary a food supply; beasts of burden served a double function as means of transporta- tion and as food; other animals were used to furnish milk, cheese, butter, flesh foods and clothing. From that time on the hunt ceased to be the chief means of support, and became secondary to the breeding and care of flocks and herds, so that men no longer needed to starve through the winter, since they could subsist on the abundant food supplies in their folds. Evi- dently this meant a revolution in industrial life. Instead of the wild free life of the hunter came a com- 1 See Kidd, "The Control of the Tropics." 100 SOCIOLOGY pact group with definite occupations, skilled in defend- ing their wealth against wild beasts and hungry out- siders. The story of Jacob and Esau illustrates the conflict between these two occupations, just as the legend of Cain and Abel illustrates the antagonism between the pastoral and the agricultural. For as time passed on, and population increased faster than the land afforded substance for cattle, men were com- pelled unwillingly to devote themselves assiduously to the irksome task of the cultivation of the soil. The horror of daily and monotonous labor seemed a curse to them, 1 and the uncertainty as to whether they should reap what they sowed acted as a drag to their energy. It required much patience and forethought laboriously to till the earth and then to wait weeks and months for returns. A new type of occupation, a new type of man and a more compact civilization were the results. It was through farming that men learned the secret of hard, unremitting toil, patience, hopeful- ness, forethought and stability, and passed definitely from the flesh diet of nomadism to vegetative foods. In primitive civilization the males by hunting supplied flesh foods, and the females armed with the digging stick, ancestor of the spade and the hoe, secured vege- tables as supplementary foods. In pastoral life the flesh of animals still furnished the staple food which was supplemented by natural fruits and by the prod- ucts of the rude agriculture performed by the women; but with increase of population and a larger consequent demand for food of all kinds, the supply of flesh foods 1 Genesis iii, 17. THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 101 became relatively smaller, and edible grains became the staff of life. Then the males had to assist in the cultivation of the fields and to forswear to a large extent the more favored occupations of hunting, shepherding their flocks or warring with their neighbors. Casar and Tacitus give us amusing accounts of our barbarian Teutonic ancestors, dwelling on their small love for agriculture and specifying as their favorite amusements eating, drinking, hunting and fighting. Fortunately, perhaps, the reason of man hit on a happy device whereby some at least might escape the hated drudgery of daily toil. In early ' slaver ^ays man-hunting for cannibalistic pur- poses had been a favorite amusement, com- bining profit with pleasure. As, however, the taste for human flesh declined, massacre and torture of captives took its place, women and children alone being sometimes saved for slavery. 1 Later it was perceived that the male also might be spared and compelled under the lash to perform laborious toil for his master. Thus arose the institution of slavery, as a substitute for cannibalism, massacre and torture, and hence in its beginnings a benevolent institution, if we assume that to the slave compulsory labor was better than a painful death. At any rate all over the world wherever men had drudgery and enemies, these latter were enslaved if possible and forced to labor. An eco- nomic benefit from this was that agriculture as a definite occupation became much more feasible. The daily routine was performed by slaves, who thereby acquired 1 See e. g. Deuteronomy xx, 13, 14; I Chronicles xx, 3. 102 SOCIOLOGY the capacity and habit of unwearied industry; their numbers increased, and when their lot became some- what lightened, as serfs or as a peasant population they still kept up their tireless work for the compensation of daily food. Even to-day they form the largest part of the world's population and perform the great mass of drudgery in civilization. As peasants in China, Russia, India and Latin America, and as unskilled laborers in the United States and in Europe they toil steadily and laboriously, still receiving as pay bare subsistence, scarcely knowing to-day whether they will have food and shelter on the morrow. An important economic effect of slavery was the rise of a leisure class. By this term is not meant those who have no work whatsoever to do, but class C1SUre ra ther those who are not compelled to labor strenuously in the industries in order to obtain their economic support. In primitive life doubt- less the energy of all was chiefly expended in the pur- suit of daily food ; the occasional leisure was probably in most cases wasted, although at times it may have been utilized by a few for reflection and achievement. With slavery and larger wealth more would be freed from economic necessity and thereby given opportunity for mental improvement and achievement. Unquestion- ably many would waste their leisure riotously and foolishly, but others again would utilize it to the utmost. In this manner there evolved a leisure class as dis- tinguished from a slave class, and on the basis of this distinction came, in later generations, caste and class systems, emphasizing aristocratic forms of organiza- THE DEVELOPMENT OV SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 103 tion, based on the dominance of noble birth, learning and wealth. There was still another possibility, aside from the use of slaves, of escaping from the irksome drudgery of Trade and agricultural life. Far back in civilization the in- men had bartered their surplus for com- dustnes. modities enjoyed by their neighbors, and in this way had begun the development of market places, trade routes, a means of exchange in some form of money, and the trader's occupation. Others again had found a peculiar satisfaction in the making of tools and weapons, and had become facile in smith- ing of all sorts. Others had become expert in the use of tools, and were busily engaged in simple forms of manufacture. To many, such occupations seemed more attractive than farming, and wherever opportunity allowed, commerce and manufactures developed, result- ing in the rise of the city with its complex life, so favorable to high civilization. The advantage of this change from the standpoint of achievement is easily perceived. Manufactures meant inventions, greater skill, wider knowl- Resultant , i social edge of natural resources and a vastly greater achieve- output in proportion to the energy expended. Commerce meant social intercourse, the mingling of civilizations, larger ideas and the stimulus of activity through the hope of gain. No purely pas- toral or agricultural people can ever hope to become wealthy and enjoy a high civilization. They may live a simple life, have homely virtues and sterling quali- ties of mind, but they lack the thrill and vigor of urban 104 SOCIOLOGY civilization, which develops only through commerce and manufacture. Nor can they ever draw far away from the fear of famine since their very existence de- pends on the chance of sun and rain, and they seldom have a reserve supply of foods to be drawn on in case of successive poor seasons, nor have they manufactured goods to be exchanged in commerce for food. Evi- dently, then, the rise and predominance of a civiliza- tion built on commerce and manufactures imply still greater social achievement, and history may be illu- minated by noting how a nation rises into prominence through its commerce and manufactures, and then sinks back into relative insignificance as a more adaptable and inventive nation conquers it in war or economic competition. Through such changes urban life no longer needed to center itself in the midst of a fertile region, its natu- ral site, but found location wherever commercial facili- ties offered themselves or hidden mines of metals could be found. For this reason throughout the ancient and modern world urban centers may be looked for (1) in the centers of fertile plains and valleys, (2) at the mouths, junctions or head waters of navigable streams, 1 or on the harbors of lakes and seas, and (3) wherever there are mines of metals or quarries of stone suitable for building purposes, or falling water to furnish power. In the rise of commerce is developed of necessity the process of transportation. In place of the pack on the human back come the canoe and the beast of burden, then 1 Canals and roads of all sorts from this standpoint may be con- sidered as artificial streams. THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 105 roads are built, canals are dug for transportation as well as for irrigation, and finally come the sailing ves- sel, the steamboat and the railroad in all the numerous present and possible forms, as well as inventive achieve- ments for the transmission of news and messages, cul- minating in the present system of wireless telegraphy. Since anthropological and ethnological works trace the development of man in his early mastery over the materials and forces of nature, 1 at- tion of the Mention here need simply be directed to materials the sociological significance of such develop- of'nature 8 men t- In these days in place of a continu- ous struggle for mere subsistence, we desire abundant food of good quality, and many comforts and luxuries besides. We desire leisure for mental, moral and esthetic enjoyment, and prefer to spend as little economic energy as need be in order to attain these things. In other words, we demand a relatively greater return for a smaller economic effort. This becomes increasingly possible as we discover how to utilize what nature so generously supplies to us; as we learn to use more effectively wood, stone and metal, and to increase our store of these through the preservation and enlargement of our forests, the manufacture of artificial stone, by the making of steel, the extraction of aluminum from clay, or nitrogen from the air. As also we pass beyond the sail and the water mill to the enormous energies stored in steam and electricity, 'Such books as Wallace's "Wonderful Century," or lies' "In- ventors at Work," show the scientific discoveries and inventions of ' the present age. 106 SOCIOLOGY we reach a condition when Malthusianism becomes old-fashioned. For through these achievements food supplies are multiplied enormously, and the energy needed to attain them passes as a burden from human muscle to nature itself. The brain of man invents and guides the machine, and natural power does the rest. The man behind the machine symbolizes a great factor in dynamic civilization, as well as the man behind the gun. The real hopefulness of the situation at present is, that as long as the intellect of man can continue to make improvements in machinery, and utilize more efficiently natural resources, mankind will become more and more free from the fear of starvation; the stan- dards of life will rise; slavery, serfdom and unskilled labor will disappear, and with shorter hours of labor, which will involve intelligence rather than muscle, even the working classes will have leisure to devote them- selves to cultural attainment, as is not possible under a system involving strenuous toil and unremitting poverty. The implication from this is that economic consump- tion will tend more and more toward a better system The natural °^ ^ E ^ )or rewards, a question complicated by wages of the existence of private property. In prinii- labor. ^ ye c i v i]i Z ation property was communal except in such matters as weapons, ornaments and clothing. In other respects all shared and shared alike whether in hunting or in spoil. 1 In pastoral and agri- cultural civilization there was communal property and 1 See e. g. Numbers xxxi, 27; I Samuel xxx, 21-25, for Hebraic illustrations. THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 107 also family possessions; not only were there varia- tions in the wealth of different families, but there was also a non-propertied class of serfs and slaves. In urban civilization based on commerce and manufactures individual rights in property are fully recognized even as against the family. This is in harmony with indi- vidualistic ideals so necessary in an age of enterprise and private initiative. The gospels on several occa- sions announce a principle which in substance is that, who has much will have more, and who hg,s little will have less. 1 In modern form it is the question whether or not the rich are growing richer and the poor poorer. Under genetic development the rule seems to hold good, and Loria 2 explains the principles involved. Those who have wealth have power, dominate legal standards and control social institutions; hence they naturally tend to arrange the system in such way that they will increase their wealth. Lacking, however, deep insight and broad knowledge they do so at the expense of the many and drag down civilization in consequence. In modern times with more wisdom the social aim is to increase the wealth of the community as a whole, and so to arrange the distribution of it that the proportionately larger share shall go to the many, not to the few. Historically it can be shown that under genetic development the wealth of the community flows into the possession of the privileged classes, the nobility, clergy and leisure classes generally. This inevitably results in a two-class system, the very 1 See e. g. Mark xii, 25. 2 "Economic Foundations of Society." 108 . SOCIOLOGY rich and the very poor. Aristotle sought to show in his "Politics " 1 that this evil could be checked by wise legislation, as Plato before him had tried to show a remedy in Utopian form. 2 The breaking down of this system begins with the era of commerce, which tends always toward democ- racy. Energy and capacity, irrespective of tions in birth, are in demand, and large rewards go higher civ- ^o ^] ie man wno } ias ability, even though he ilization. . urc 1 • 1 is ignobly born. Manufactures tend in the same direction, and as the result of these influences a middle class is formed made up of commoners who acquire wealth. As skill and energy come more and more into demand, others from the ranks rise into the professions, into highly paid, skilled trades, and into positions of responsibility in business. These also receive a proportionately larger share of wealth. If statistics were available, it would be possible to show the march of civilization by noting historically the decrease in per cent of those who live from hand to mouth. It is probable that intelligent legislation will have to sup- plement the genetic development initiated by com- merce and manufactures, and society by its wisdom may have to place handicaps on excessive fortunes, and on the other hand pay special attention to the stimulation of those who in civilized countries are still below the standard of a decent living wage. No civili- zation can honestly claim to be high in which a rela- tively large per cent of its population is below the 1 Books IV and V. 2 In the " Republic " and the " Laws." THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 109 level of fairly comfortable subsistence. This change should not come about through charity, the wisdom of which is highly questionable, but by such measures as will develop intelligence and energy among the needy, and at the same time supply to them oppor- tunities for economic and cultural advancement. Sociology, basing itself on historical experience, sees no need of any return to the primitive condition of com- munal property or a system of equal sharings, but does insist on the supreme importance of a system in which every person by a moderate amount of energy and intelligence may have the opportunity to attain a fair livelihood. This condition, impossible in earlier civilization, becomes possible and even inevitable as man transforms his environment by his mastery over natural forces. CHAPTER VI THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS (Continued) II. The Family While the family is usually considered the unit, or fundamental group of soeiet}', the term family has had Primitive a different significance at different times. kinship and When mankind was emerging from animal mamage. conditions the family group probably con- sisted simply of mother and child holding closely together merely during the helpless period of infancy. • The mother herself presumably provided for and pro- tected her children, who as they matured would feel a sympathetic connection because of their descent from a common mother. This furnishes the type of the so-called matriarchal, or metronymic, family made up of a mother, her children and her daughters' chil- dren, forming a natural kin. 1 This family group was 1 Kinship may be natural or artificial. Natural kinship implies in popular opinion the possession of a common blood, and in its primary form exists between parent and child, or among children having the same father and mother. It exists in a secondary form between children and the other natural kin of their parents, or be- tween parents and the descendants of their children. In the widest extent of the word, all mankind may be said to be kin on the assump T tion of descent from an original pair; or under evolutionary hypo- thesis a natural kinship may be said to exist between all sentient life, both human and animal. In the metronymic period kinship 110 THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 111 at first held together by instinctive sympathy, but at a later stage human reason became able to see the utility of kinship ties for purposes of hunting and defense. From that time on kinship was recognized as a social bond, and regulations of marriage and degrees of consanguinity became general. As the office of the male in generation was then unknown, -fathers as such were not recognized .as members of the family, maternal uncles and o^Wnship 13 u ^ erme brothers forming the male kin. By the time of the patriarchal, or patronym- ic, period, the father's share in reproduction had become known; he had definitely laid claim to kin- ship with his children, and even had asserted over them his right as superior to that of their mother. Under this system came kinship based fundamentally on male descent, and a more compact and permanent family organization. In later times, as for example under the empire in Rome, came the system of tracing kinship through double descent, and this, now justified through fathers was ignored, just as kinship through mothers was slighted in the patronymic period. Artificial kinship is established by custom or by law. A group may traditionally but incorrectly assume descent from a common ancestor, or in totemism may claim kinship through relationship to a common totem considered to be a sort of ancestor. Again, arti- ficial ties of kinship may be formed by marriage or by adoption, as, for example, in the legal kinship of husband and wife and the cus- tomary recognition of relations-in-law. A still wider form of arti- ficial kinship may be illustrated by the brotherhoods of religious and social organizations. In church membership, for instance, a father and a son are technically brothers, both being sons of a common spiritual Father. 112 SOCIOLOGY by biological knowledge, will probably remain per- manent, and children be considered as the offspring of each parent and related to the kin of both. Artificial kinship arose by claims of descent from a common fictitious ancestor, as in totemism, by adoption or by marriage, the last two of course being well recognized forms of kinship to-day. On the basis of real or ficti- tious kinship, grew slowly recognition of tribal, clan and national kinships, broadening at present into humanitarianism, or a recognition of the essential kin- ship of the entire human race. Sexual connection was in primitive life dictated merely by natural instincts, influenced by passion and Ancient propinquity. Whether marriage was polyg- conjugai re- amous, polyandrous, monogamous, tempo- lationships. rai ,y Qr p ermanen t m form, is of small mo- ment. For sociological purposes the nature of the relationship is of no consequence until it became a social one, recognized by the group, and involving mutual rights and obligations. For from that time a new form of kinship was recognized, implied in the marriage tie between husband and wife. This enlargement of the family group by the inclusion of the husband is marked in the histories of primitive marriage by numerous regulations of the status of marriage, which henceforth definitely takes its place as a social institution. It seems evident, moreover, that during this period eco- nomic considerations as well as sexual appetite became a factor in marriage. The woman began to have a definite economic function in the communal group as the supplier of vegetable food, as domestic drudge, THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 113 and as burden-bearer on the march. Her proficiency in these respects therefore became a consideration in the eyes of her suitors. Women captured in war were valuable not simply as supplementary wives but also as slaves having a definite economic value. At the same time men as hunters, warriors and shepherds were frequently engaged in warfare, and developed thereby an aggressive, masterful and savage disposition. Under such conditions it is not hard to see that women as slave- or purchase-wives, toiling laboriously within the inner circle of the group, would tend to become more and more subordinated to the males who were engaged in mentally stimulating occupations. Hence the free mother of semi-human existence had become by the time of the agricultural period a submissive slave to her husband, and was characterized by the natural slavish qualities of patience, endurance under suffer- ing, and passivity in matters external to her own inter- ests. This inferior place she still holds among the larger part of the world's population. The marriage relation is still based almost entirely on sexual passion and eco- nomic considerations, and in the family economy the woman's duty is that of field hand and household drudge, though her status rises in importance wherever mo- nogamy prevails, since her lot is mitigated by the ties of domestic affection. 1 Kinship and marriage would be in sorry condition if this were the end of social development, but for- 1 For interesting studies from this standpoint, see Eliza B. Gam- ble, "The Evolution of Women"; Ward, "Pure Sociology," Chapter XIV; and Thomas, "Sex and Society." 114 SOCIOLOGY tunately there is another aspect to be emphasized. This may be explained, first, b}^ the gradual refinement of sexual relations and, secondly, by a rise ex ,. 4 in the standards of family affection. morality. J l fc The prompting of sexual passion in animal life is instinctive, and its indulgence spontaneous. When the intellect of man developed sufficiently to enable him to reflect on his desires, sexual indulgence became conscious, artificial and excessive. Then came social tabu and regulation, aiming to check the evils of licentiousness that threatened to sweep away the exist- ence of the race. These involved mainly requirements of female chastity, and regulations of divorce. Civiliza- tion has, however, unquestionably strengthened the intensity of male sexual passion, by removing him from the natural, physical conditions of savage life, and developing in him a sexual imagination. A civil- ization dominated by males has been in consequence rather half-hearted and unsuccessful in its attempts to regulate sexual vices. Great religious teachers have done their best to set up high standards of sexual ethics, but no religious system can boast of much success in results. Sanctified prostitution (in the East), legalized polygamy, celibacy and a tabu on open discussions of sexual relations seem to be some of the evil results of former religious teaching. Yet little by little religion and science have been drawing together on the matter and begin to lay increasing emphasis on some rather important teachings; viz. that sexual passion of itself is proper, natural and necessary for race preservation ; that the very vigor and intensity of it is helpful to THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 115 civilization since it gives energy and ambition to the man, and grace and charm to the woman; but that indulgence in sexual passion is not a matter to be decided by the wish and whim of the individual, nor even by the dogma of church or the decree of law, except as these conform to the teachings of human experience scientifically interpreted. In other words, society must increasingly insist, as its standards, that every individual be properly trained in scientific teach- ings in respect to sexual relations, and that persons of low sexual standards must rigidly comply under penalty with social regulations placed on sexual indul- gence. Freedom of contract in the marriage relation would, under present conditions, result in licentious- ness. It is a remote ideal suited to a population char- acterized by self-control, well trained to regulate their primary instincts, and will not become possible until in practice it would amount to permanent monogamy. In place of absolute freedom might better be empha- sized a stricter regulation of socially injurious mar- riages, extending in many cases even to ofmaxTiage prohibition. Public opinion intelligently in- formed and directed through moral agencies should make impossible the marriage of those physi- cally, mentally and morally defective. Attention should be directed more and more away from a purely indi- vidualistic theory of marriage for personal pleasure, to a view of it as involving racial consequences. In place of ancestor worship might well come a sort of worship of posterity, so that persons might take the same pride in providing capable offspring for future generations, 116 SOCIOLOGY as some do now in tracing their descent from illustrious ancestors. The modern movement in the direction of higher sexual morality has come about largely through women's influence. Its beginnings of course date far influence back in human history when standards of virtue arose through requirements of female chastity. Slavery and the practice of polygamy by the leisure class, strangely enough, helped on the cause by accustoming the great mass of mankind to monogamy, a form of marriage in which women naturally acquire a greater influence than under polygamy. Roman law and early Christianity also helped matters by emphasis on women's dignity and equality; chivalry in its turn tended to idealize women, and its standards passed downward in the social scale by imitation. The great movement of the eighteenth century toward human equality had a profound effect on woman's status, since from that time agi- of woman 1 y tation for woman's rights definitely started. Such rights are only incidentally political, agitation for which has unfortunately dwarfed other movements, some of which are relatively more impor- tant. Woman's rights properly include such demands as that for higher education, for freedom to enter economic life if necessary, for control over her own children and her own property, for a larger social life than the narrow circle of domestic routine, and for the rights of free choice in marriage and of maintaining her self-respect in marriage by control over sexual relations, even to the extent of demanding divorce in THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 117 last resort. This great movement toward women's equality is already producing marked changes in social life, and is one of the powerful factors in improving the moral relations of the sexes and in the elimination of the grosser forms of sexual vice. Unquestionably another century of progress in this direction will help greatly to purify the moral atmosphere of social life, since women will insist that the standards of sexual ethics shall apply to both sexes alike. 2. This improvement in social standards can be made clearer by noting the changes in the relations between husband and wife. As already explained, Improve- . ,..,.. ment in the the freer marriage of early civilization was conjugal re- followed by the sexual and economic slavery lationship. • . , . . ... of women under patriarchal civilization. Even under such conditions there were influences at work that slowly helped to elevate the position of women. A really capable woman, economically speak- ing, was worthy of respect and even honor. 1 Again, the males of a leisure class demanded in their wives beauty and accomplishments, and women so favored had great power. Women as well as men inherit from their parents intellectual capacity, and wherever they have had opportunities to develop this, the benefits, social and domestic, have invariably been large. Again, the influence of women was set steadily against polygamy or any system that allowed to the husband a larger freedom in sexual relationships than he was willing to allow to his wife. Monogamy, a form of marriage forced on slave and peasant populations 1 See e. g. Proverbs xxxi, 10-31. 118 SOCIOLOGY by necessity, became to woman the ideal form of mar- riage because of the larger equality she obtained in that system, and this ideal became fixed in the standards of enterprising, progressive Aryan races. All influences combined developed in advanced civilization men of nobler quality who began to hold a different attitude toward women. Sexual and economic values rela- tively diminished in importance, and an idealizing tendency developed. In the age of chivalry, the lover began to look upon his mistress as the inspirer of activ- ity, the charm of existence, a wise counselor, a sym- pathetic friend and loving companion. The relation- ship in other words became idealized through the higher emotions and intellectual appreciation, so that the purest form of monogamy became inevitable, viz. the permanent union of two persons of opposite sex, harmonizing with and supplementing each other. In higher civilization, therefore, courtship and marriage are characterized by emphasis on friendship and a romanticism, which, though based on sexual passion, calls into lively exercise the higher moral and esthetic feelings. 1 When such conditions exist sexual morality rises to its highest pitch. Infidelity even in thought becomes abhorrent, and sexual passion, guided and morality ^ subordinated by idealism, becomes a servant and not a master. Undoubtedly as women free themselves from the handicaps still placed by society on their higher development, they, with their greater sensitiveness and idealism, will insist on higher 1 See Henry T. Finck, "Romantic Love and Personal Beauty." THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 119 standards in their sons and husbands, thus by elimina- tion of the unfit gradually raising the standards of sexual morality. Since inherently males as well as females can be trained to high morality, the social ideal of sexual ethics should become a common stan- dard rigidly applied to both sexes. This ideal of a permanent monogamous marriage is in practice rare, and yet the fact that it has been Mo a- attained indicates that ultimately it will mous mar- become the favored type, if cultural civiliza- tion continues to develop. Religion and law both assume the existence of such a standard of marriage at present, even though sexual irregularities, both legal and illegal, are rife. Such irregularities were once supported or condoned by public opinion, but for centuries society has insisted on at least out- ward conformity to social standards of marriage. In order to facilitate this, marriage and divorce are made flexible, so that one may enter or leave the marriage state at small cost and with comparative ease. If this were not done under present conditions of sexual morality, illegitimate connections of all sorts would multiply. Toward the ideal of a permanent monoga- mous marriage men must strive by means of telic cul- tural development. As this grows, our present con- cessions to human weakness will disappear one by one, and regulations of the marriage tie will grow fewer in number. The trend, therefore, will be in the direc- tion of mutual freedom of contract and mutual free- dom within the marriage relation, but a freedom that will guide itself to meet the approval and sanction of 120 SOCIOLOGY an intelligent public opinion, voicing the ideals of a strongly ethical civilization. A similar development may be observed in the fun- damental kinship between mother and child. This natural animal relationship invariably ends affection w ^ n ^e ma/ kurity of the offspring. But as social organization develops through growing intellectual capacity, the tie endures longer and passes from an instinctive affection to one founded on the higher emotions and the reason. Especially is this true while both remain under the same roof. This proximity tends to develop affection through the harmony of common habits, interests and aims. Daily intimate contact also develops among the other members of the group a conventional bond of affection which the reason strength- ens by motives of economic interest, domestic comfort and mutual helpfulness. When the father also was admitted into the family circle, he likewise shared in the affection of the domestic group, though paternal love has not even yet attained the depth and fervor of maternal devotion. His assertion of ownership and kinship, however, tended to center his interests on the welfare of the household, so that the child began to have the fostering care of both parents, although in patriarchal civilization the father gave his male offspring a disproportionate amount of attention to the neglect of his daughters. The most serious defect in the organization of the patriarchal, or even of the modern family, arises from maternal ignorance. Under polygamy and economic monogamy the mother is a mere instrument of sexual THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 121 pleasure or economic service to the husband, and con- sequently her training of offspring is instinctive and tra- ditional, but lacks the elements that can arise ■J! er ^ a onlv when mothers are intelligently trained ignorance. J ° J and influential in cultural advancement. Race progress is intimately involved with the quality of child-training, and civilization is always retarded by a failure to emphasize intelligence and idealism as a prerequisite condition for child culture. As long as leisure classes confide their children to ignorant ser- vants, and the mass of mothers are kept from cultural training and compelled to devote their energies chiefly to household drudgery and economic occupations, there can be little hope for rapid social progress. When society learns to educate its citizens so that they will become intelligent enough to train their children teli- cally; when it frowns alike on the large family of the poor and the childless family of leisure, there will be hope that each generation may make rapid advance over its predecessor. Movements in this direction are noteworthy. Con- ventional affection is weakened almost to the vanish- Enlargement m S point by long-continued absence, but of domestic out of this natural, instinctive affection, supplemented by ties of social interests, arises a higher form of kinship affection into which enter the ideals of life. The mother loves the child of her imagination, the idealization of what she de- sires her child to be; the father looks hopefully for- ward to those who will carry on his plans and bring honor to the family name; the lover sees in his mis- 122 SOCIOLOGY tress the perfection of all womanly qualities. This idealizing affection may really grow in absence, as the imagination is not checked by the prosaic experiences of daily contact. When developed, it becomes the highest form of domestic affection yet attained by human kind, enduring in sickness, misfortune, and even in spite of sin and degradation, often cheerfully giving its energy and life for the sake of its object. In its expanded form it becomes altruism, missionary zeal, patriotism or devotion' to truth and to the teach- ings of one's conscience, and these ideals become endeared by personifying them as members of the family. A man finds inspiration by loving his fatherland, his mother country, his alma mater, his Father in heaven and his brothers in heathen lands. For these reasons sociological theory teaches that on the foundation of sexual passion and domestic affection, should be devel- oped, especially during the adolescent period, the emotional ideals of the race, such as the higher forms of filial, conjugal and parental affection, love for coun- try and mankind, and devotion to honor, beauty and truth. The comparative study of domestic institutions brings the conviction that the family as a social institution is still moving toward a stage of higher ment development. Even the evils so manifest through to-day are less intense than in former periods oresig . ^ civilization, and while they still form a powerful hindrance to physical and cultural develop- ment, they are such as can be removed by scientific foresight. This telic idea is rapidly growing, and con- THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 123 structive plans for building up domestic morality are taking the place of older emphasis on prohibitions and ignorant restrictions. 1 If society would give less atten- tion to its prohibitions in sexual matters, waste fewer tears on the sexual depravity of man, and devote it- self earnestly to positive movements for raising the tone of the home, giving to its children a thorough education in scientific knowledge of the laws of biology, it might pass, almost at a bound, to a civilization where sexual perversity would be abnormal enough to insure its incarceration in asylums. III. The Development of the State 2 The state is the chief institution through which society . carries on its functions. Originally this was not so true as now, yet the state in its simple omTstate beginnings had a real importance. The mod- ern state is a political unity having complete sovereignty, regulating and controlling as it does all matters of political importance. Such a notion, how- ever, would have been incomprehensible to primitive man. He merely knew that for safety's sake it was a good thing for him to combine with companions for offense or defense, and that he would get a larger share 1 The trend toward a constructive policy in respect to the family- can well be noted by following the annual reports of the National League for the Protection of the Family. This society, under the efficient leadership of its secretary (Dr. Samuel W. Dike, Auburn- dale, Mass.), has powerfully aided in the education of public opinion. 2 For an elaboration of this and the preceding topic, see " The Development of the State," and " The Family in its Sociological Aspects," by the author. 124 SOCIOLOGY of food if he hunted in combination with them. The hunting-band and the war-band, however, are the ancestors of the state, representing social cooperation for the two chief functions of government, viz. military and economic activities. In these organizations, too, we have the fundamental elements of the state : within the band there is the authority or sovereignty of the leader, or leaders in combination; there is a notion of law in the command of the chief, and in the customs of war and hunting; and there is a common unity since all members of the group were combined for a general purpose. Permanency, which was lacking at first, came in later years to characterize the group, as com- munal interests became solidified through the growing complexity of social relations and through possession of a common hunting ground to be defended if necessary by main strength. The next really important development in political organization came in the patriarchal period. At that time societv, organized economically for graz- The state " ' ° 1 ~ ° of the ing and farming purposes, fused the old- patriarchal i[ me organizations for war and industry into a common organization with family and religious institutions, making the clan, or in some cases the tribe, or combination of related clans, a compact organization with differentiated functions, ruled by its elders as governmental chiefs. The clan or the tribe was a body of kinsmen organized at once for war, for industry and for the observance of common religious rites. Race struggle, conquest, subjection and slow amalgamation marked this period. Out of this fusion THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 125 of races and civilizations came three great institutions that profoundly affected political development : private property, a leisure class headed by a king, and civil law. The rise of private property meant a growing need to regulate conflicting claims to property, and to settle the custom to be observed in respect to inherit- ance and the status of aliens, slaves and citizens. The rise of a leisure class meant that a privileged set of persons henceforth tended to monopolize the wealth and governmental power of society, to hold all offices of importance, and to assert its right to fix the law of the state. When these three great institutions had definitely developed, the state as a unit was fully matured. The state presenting the essential features of mod- as a matured ern states, and prepared to win for itself ion. SU p remaC y j n social control. There were, to be sure, such changes within the three institu- tions that the spirit of government completely altered from time to time, but the idea of the state remained practically the same, irrespective of functional and structural differentiations. These changes are familiar facts of history — the power of the state in exercise may oscillate between king, nobility or people; the form of government may be autocratic, feudalistic or democratic; property may incline toward communal or individual ownership, and consist chiefly of land or of capital; law may be merely enforced custom, or be subject to telic change and amendment by the ruling classes or representative assemblies; and social func- tions are performed indifferently by family, church or 126 SOCIOLOGY government, according as these vary in social impor- tance. Government in its earlier stages emphasized solidi- fication and centralization, not expansion and differen- Distinctions Nation. Conflicting property rights, disputes of class and over social privileges, and the need of a vigorous organization for military and in- dustrial purposes, all assisted in the development of a governmental organization centered in a ruling aristocracy, maintaining its power by subordinating inferior and conquered races through exploiting and predatory methods. The more vigorous the need, the firmer was the attempt to separate by hard and fast lines the gradations of social ranks within the community. The leading class accomplished this by insisting on its divine or noble origin as against basely born classes below it, by monopolizing civil and relig- ious power and landed wealth, and by prohibition of intermarriage between classes. Such distinctions, at first enforced by violence, later became set by custom, hedged about by divine sanctions, and identified with the will of the gods. In this way developed caste sys- tems even yet common in India, and partly retained in western civilization, 1 though they tend to merge into class distinctions based on wealth or intellectual attainment. Milage communities and feudalism are the natural outgrowths of this system and may result, according to conditions, either in a loosely organized confederation of equal or partly equal districts, or through growth of common interests may develop 1 Royal families, for instance, practically form a caste. THE DEVELOPMExNT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 127 into a compact empire of confederated provinces united with a degree of firmness fixed by the capacity of its ruling class or the pressure of rival nations. These are the natural and genetic governmental types of an aristocratic state founded on patriarchal industries, and developed by numerous wars of conquest. The next stage of development is brought about by the growth of commerce, domestic and foreign. This The influ- implies manufactures for export purposes, ence of good roads, improved methods of transpor- commerce. ^j on ^ ^he r j se f cities, greater knowledge and the readjustment of class lines on the basis of other forms of wealth than land. Under such con- ditions caste distinctions tend to fade away, and in- stead of the noble and the warrior, the capitalist and the merchant become important. This change implies the rise of the third estate, 1 and a movement toward oligarchy and democracy, since a larger class of citizens become interested in governmental stability, and new men constantly push to the front so as to secure the interests of their wealthy and intelligent plebeian friends engaged in commerce and manufactures. Commercial civilization tends naturally to expand so as to seek new markets. This expansion may take place peace- ably through trading posts or colonization, 2 as in the case of the Phoenicians and the Greeks, or may be pred- atory or warlike in character, as in the case of the Romans. In Rome the imperialistic idea reached its 1 The equites of Rome, the bourgeoisie of France or the middle class of England. 2 See A. G. Keller, "Colonization." 128 SOCIOLOGY maximum as a type of world state, not made up of loosely confederated parts, but centering control in the capital by systematically subordinating the economic interests of the provinces, and slowly amalgamating the mass of population through a common civil law and the usual methods of social imitation and control. It was Rome that first developed a flexible legal system, by emphasis on procedure, and telic modifications in the content of the law brought about by codification, edict, commentary and interpretation. The Roman legal system, .later supplemented by Germanic custom, still furnishes the basis for the law of western civiliza- tion, just as its imperialism remained the pattern for Europe down to the nineteenth century. 1 Commerce, 2 with its adjunct manufactures, regu- larly tends to favor a democratic trend in social rela- Commerce tions. Its great demand is that there be favorable to men who are intelligent, free from irksome emocracy. res t r ictions, and willing to break away from custom whenever necessary. Constant intercourse with other races tends also to develop liberalism in cus- toms and beliefs, and to favor a sort of cosmopol- itanism instead of a narrow tribal prejudice. This development, however, may not be true of the mass, but merely of those engaged in the larger aspects of trade and commerce; yet there can be no permanent commercial success until there is general intelligence. 1 For brief studies of these topics, note James Bryce, "The Holy Roman Empire," 1904, revised edition; Wm. C. Morey, "Outlines of Roman Law." 2 See Clive Day, " History of Commerce." THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 129 But as men become free, liberal and intelligent they become democratic in their relations one with another and therefore a democratic trend in a social organiza- tion founded on commerce is inevitable. The trend toward democracy can best be observed historically by noting the changes taking place in Growth of patriarchal civilization as the new economic the powers system creeps in. The governmental aspect e s a e ' of society is slowly aggrandized at the expense of the other social institutions; the state assumes the right to regulate inheritances, kinship, marriage and divorce, and rights over children; it subordinates the ecclesiastical organization to the po- litical by controlling its property rights and to some extent its offices and its creed. It successfully com- petes with the church in provisions for education and philanthropy, it fosters economic interests, and develops a system of taxation as recompense. It poses as the friend of morals, art and philosophy and thereby wins the support of the leaders of these great social agencies. In this way the state wins the right as against other institutions to dictate the conditions of social life and to act as final arbiter in all disputes. When this stage is attained, sovereignty may well be denned as supreme authority, since the state has become the dominant institution of society. There is an obvious advantage in this development since as all social functions are subject theoretically to a central organization, conflict- ing policies are thereby eliminated. Under the old system this might be evil since the dominant office-holding class might be tempted to 130 SOCIOLOGY exploit other classes, checked only as it would be by the fear of factional disputes of rival claimants for power. But when the claims of a dominant struggle* 5 c ^ ass are disputed by other classes, who also have important interests to conserve, minor factional differences become merged into a class strug- gle, which in modern times voices itself through political parties. Historically parties may be traced (1) as fac- tional struggles within a dominant class, such as dynas- tic wars, (2) struggles for supremacy between two opposing institutions typified by the historic struggle of church and state, and (3) struggles between con- flicting economic interests such as a land interest as opposed to a commercial-manufacturing interest, or capitalistic claims as opposed to those of an interest- paying, wage-earning class. These fundamental inter- ests supply basic principles for political parties, which in modern governmental systems usually fight out their disputes at the polls through the ballot, instead of by the ancient methods of insurrection and rebellion. This more peaceable method of settling difficulties places in possession of government a resultant of all conflicting interests, that by mutual compromise seeks to merge them all into a great national policy. Under such conditions it is easy to see why the functions of a government democratically organized tend to be enlarged so enormously. If a class controls, or a special interest, it is always afraid to broaden the sphere of its activity, because it would multiply thereby the antagonism of unrepresented interests whose privileges are being interfered with. But when practically all THI-; DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 131 classes and parties are represented, the government may go far in the direction of regulation and " inter- ference," without dread of rebellion. The process whereby modern democracy succeeds an aristocratic system may briefly be indicated as Aristocracy f°U° ws: king, nobility and special classes becoming lose little by little their important, peculiar emocracy. p rer0 g a ti V es, retaining, if anything at all, the mere shadow of their former power, which, through popular agitation and revolution, passes slowly down from class to class until all theoretically share in rights and privileges. Monopolies and special privileges, for instance, in land, mines and economic opportunities are stoutly resisted and slowly become public or are thrown open to general competition. Governmental offices and honorable occupations of all sorts cease to be prerogatives of the nobility, and all citizens become eligible to them. An opportunity to obtain education is placed before all. The privilege of lawmaking passes to the citizens as a whole or to their representatives; freedom in thought and speech is secured by forbidding social institutions to dictate beliefs and standards, and the rights of all in person and property are safeguarded against the arbitrary whim of the powerful. This development also is indicated by the differen- tiation taking place in governmental organization. The sphere and functions of the state's two chief rivals, the family and the church, are first carefully marked off, and the residue of governmental authority becomes divided among several departments; the judicial func- tions of the executive become a separate department, 132 SOCIOLOGY then the administrative functions are delegated to a ministry; a lawmaking body develops for the purpose of revising the law and adding to it from Changes in govern- time to time, and the executive aided by a mental or- cabinet oversees the system as a whole and formulates broad lines of policy. Local administration is separated from the national, and their spheres of authority are carefully distinguished. The effect of these differentiations as a whole is to decentralize authority over details, but to centralize it over fundamentals through the general power and regulation of supervision. It is not to be supposed that democracy in its complete form has yet been attained by any civili- Conditions za tion. Nothing is so misleading in theoriz- for ing as to assume that things are necessarily democracy. w j ia ^ their names or their ideals imply. There have been and are many states called democracies, but these differ widely. Contrast for example the bloody despotism of the black republic (Haiti), the benevolent despotism of Diaz in Mexico, the strongly centralized system of France and the capable decentralized Swiss republic. Evidently the mere form of govern- ment is not sufficient as a basis for classification. If therefore by democracy is meant not a formal but a real government by the people, one would have to admit that the w r ord denotes an ideal, not a condition realized. A democracy should imply that the people as a whole, both sexes alike, are intelli- gently trained and capable of giving a fair judgment in respect to policies under discussion. Furthermore, THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 133 no large per cent of them should be so straitened by poverty as to be debarred from leisure and warped in judgment. As long as ignorance and extreme poverty handicap a society, it is impossible for that body to become fully democratic. In other words, the two fundamental conditions for democracy are that educa- tion be accessible to all, and that economic extremes in society be eliminated, i. e. the concentration of wealth in the hands of a few, and the impoverishment of the masses. Lacking these fundamentals even though a state is democratic in form, power will always in fact be controlled by the wealthy, who can regularly rely on the support of professional classes, and of the edu- cated if these classes also are recruited from the few. Any state, no matter what its form, will tend toward a democratic condition if the opportunities The move- ^ or ^ e acquirement of knowledge and prop- ment toward erty are shared by all alike. As, however, emocracy. na £ ura ]^ or g ene tic, development is aristo- cratic not democratic, in order to become really demo- cratic a society must deliberately counteract natural tendencies and use telic means to accomplish its pur- pose. As such movements exist in parts of the earth where conditions are favorable, approximations toward a true democracy may be observed and the marks of political progress indicated. The basis for any such observation must be found by noting those tendencies that seem to make for progress and that are based on telic rather than on genetic development. The sub- stitution of rational ends attained through scientific knowledge for haphazard development is one of the 134 SOCIOLOGY surest indications of progress. If also there is a steady disappearance of pain and misery, the multiplication of human happiness, and an approximation toward equality of opportunity, one may feel reasonably sure that the general trend of society is toward the attain- ment of democratic ideals. In general one may argue that the coming of real democracy will ultimately banish war and its heavy burden of expense. Nations may still dis- tion of' war 1 " P u * e anc ^ compete, but the future contest will be on a psychical plane, and science through skilled intellects will win the battles. The great coordinating international agencies of modern times, viz. the religious, economic, educational and cultural factors, will tend to unify human interests, and boards of arbitration in case of dispute will obviate the necessity of war, which in any case will become obsolete because of its needless waste of life and prop- erty. National resources will be carefully husbanded, production in all its forms made scientific, distribution more equitable, and a more generous consumption made possible for every citizen, looking always toward the elimination of unskilled labor, and the inclusion in the leisure class of the entire population. This will be accomplished when through invention and the util- ization of natural power, a well-paid short-hour day becomes possible for all, so that the masses also may have leisure for cultural development. In political activity it is essential for democratic development that governmental machinery, now so cumbersome and awkward, be simplified, thoroughly THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 135 coordinated, and made sensitive to public opinion; and that governmental policy when formulated into Develop- ^ aw De scientific. Nothing in politics is so ment of disheartening at the present time as the emocracy. na^Qtiplicity of laws, mostly unnecessary, and rarely, even the best of them, based on any farsighted knowledge of human nature and social development. Law should be simple and general, details should be left to administration, and the few principles promulgated should be harmonized with science. Prohibitions of all sorts should be reduced to a minimum, regulations should be general, taking into account human nature so as to incite it to com- pliance and make the law self-enforcing. A law dif- ficult of enforcement is either defective or demands too high a standard for the conditions of civilization. It should be repealed, or modified, or the standards of civilization raised. Laws so numerous and complex as to develop litigation are socially injurious. The law should assume that men desire the right, not the wrong. If the reverse in experience proves to be the case, social organization is defective, and wiser legislation would presumably remove the difficulty. Every law should be formulated after thorough discussion and delibera- tion, should be based on principles easily apprehended and endorsed by expert authority, and should be so carefully worded as to convey the meaning intended. The legislation of so-called democracies at present is in the main a reproach and a disgrace to the body politic. No disillusion of democracy is so keen as the pessimism existing in respect to the utility of law- 136 SOCIOLOGY making bodies. Not until legislators are more truly representative and intelligent will they resume their former importance. Then society might con- legfsiation fidently look forward to a much more rapid development of the cultural aspects of life. At present legislatures are so little acquainted with the theoretical principles of morals, esthetics and education that they seldom attempt to legislate in respect to these, and when they do, experts express sorrow. The entire cultural life, therefore, is left to private initiative. Yet whatever the efficiency of private agencies, there is need always of a larger coordination, a broader view and a deeper insight than can possibly be supplied in this fashion. Unquestionably these associations should become national, should formulate great policies, and then by a process of education ultimately induce the state to embark definitely into the function of develop- ing a cultural civilization. At present the state educates chiefly in the rudi- ments of general knowledge, and in industrial occupa- tions and professions, but already under the pressure of public opinion it is beginning to moralize the con- ditions of life, to teach the elements of art in the schools, and through national universities to foster scientific research. When the cost of war, crime, vice and pauperism shall begin to diminish, as societies become wiser, it is natural to assume that the vast amounts now wasted for such purposes will be diverted toward a constructive policy, and used to build up the funda- mentals of material and cultural civilization. This should be the aim of scientific legislation, and the states- THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 137 men of the future will be those who can most effectively utilize the power of the state in constructive activity, rather than in devising new prohibitions and tedious regulations for the maintenance of the status quo. 1 The Samaritan of the twentieth century is not the man who assists the traveler that fell among thieves, but he who sees to it that the economic conditions of employ- ment are so bettered, that the thieves who infest the road to Jericho may have honest occupations. The elimination of waste by a more complete utilization of human energy in useful directions is as wise a policy in politics as a similar principle is in economics. *See pamphlet "Ethical and Religious Significance of the State," by the author. Social Science Series, 1909, American Baptist Society. CHAPTER VII THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS (Continued) IV. The Religious Institution In studying the development of the religious institu- tion, sociology makes use of ethnological discoveries, 1 supplemented by history and the comparison of exist- ing systems. In using this comparative and historical method, it looks merely, as already explained, 2 at the institutions and ethics of religion, leaving to philosophy and theology all discussion of fundamental beliefs. It seems probable that religious feeling had its begin- ning when primitive man felt a sort of dread of uncom- prehended forces surrounding him and there of rehgion arose a dull desire on his part to understand them. At first, in the fetishistic stage, his crude intellect surmised that there were mysterious powers in many of the objects by which he was sur- rounded, in animal and plant life, for example, and in unusual natural phenomena. These he feared or cher- ished according as they brought him good or evil. A be- lief in luck, or in lucky and unlucky objects, is a common modern manifestation of this. In the animistic stage 1 For a brief study of this sort, with references, see The Temple Primer Series: "Religion, its Origin and Forms," by J. A. Mac- culloch. J Pages 36, 37. 138 THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 139 these strange appearances and forces were personified, along with the souls of his ancestors, and he strove to pro- pitiate his innumerable gods by prayer and offerings, or by superior knowledge to render them obedient to his will. Odd as it may seem, in so doing he was beginning to probe into the secrets of nature, and becom- ing the ancestor of the modern scientist, the clergyman and the physician. When with keener imagination he began to see coordinating principles and to grade as higher or lower the various gods of the universe, he was becoming a philosopher, slowly working out theories of cosmology and theology. Still later with growing power of discrimination, he began to group inferior gods under one supreme god, to show their relationship to men, and to idealize these relations through emphasis on standards of right. In process of time thoughtful men dropped out or ignored lesser divinities and ad- vanced to a monotheistic theology. Others abstracted the notion of personality from divinity altogether, thereby reaching pantheism; or even as atheists rejected belief in the supernatural and discoursed of natural elements, blind chance and cosmic principles. This brief outline of the development of religious belief is the history of man's striving to understand the mys- teries of nature, and to define his own relationship to the cosmos. Subjectively, as the mind of primitive man gained emotional strength, his unreasoning fear deepened in intensity and became awe. As this became tinged with thought, it changed into reverence, devotion and love, until the Supreme becomes revealed to him as 140 SOCIOLOGY the giver of all good, the author of justice, a loving father. So, likewise, the rude incantations, the bloody , . . sacrifices and selfish supplications of early The higher .... . . develop- civilization slowly change into higher and ment of purer forms, and culminate in spiritual wor- ship, and in the sacrifice made by clean hearts and right spirits, which aspire to come into close communion with the divine and to partake of its nature. In the same way symbolic rites slowly lose their signifi- cance for later generations ; their ruder and bloodier as- pects are eliminated ; and very gradually they pass into an esthetic symbolism, emphasizing music and the beauty of form and color. Even these grow less important as higher civilization advances, and an inner worship takes its place, as human insight becomes able to envisage its ideals without the aid of the material. The influence of environmental conditions on reli- gious development is marked. Since social development influence of depends on economic status and intellectual environment training, wherever low economic and intel- on re lgion. ] ec ^ ua j conditions prevail, the religion of such a civilization, by whatever name it may be called, will tend to become a low form of animistic worship. Tendencies toward polytheism demand a somewhat higher grade of development, but find their natural support in the economic conditions of patri- archal civilization. The broadening of economic possi- bilities, such for example as develop through commerce, facilitates the rise of higher religions, typified by the many varieties of religious belief formerly taught by the wisest philosophers of Asia and Greece. In the THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 141 same manner the spirit of religion in society as a whole is largely determined by the economic and intellectual conditions of its adherents. It will be dominating and dogmatic if conditions are low, and conciliatory and democratic if these are high. It is crude in its morals when cruelty is common, and strongly ethical when humanitarianism is at its height. It will be petty and provincial under patriarchal conditions, and will broaden out into a world religion only when the times are alive with world views and movements. As civilizations assimilate, their religions assimilate also, so that, as future centuries unite the divergent types of the East and the West, the religion of that time must inevitably be a synthesis of the dominant qualities of the world religions then existing. The priesthood, or sacred class historically prominent in practically all religions in every age of civilization, finds its beginnings in the sorcerers, or medi- priesthood Q ' me men °^ primitive life. These knew the secrets of charms and exorcisms, and by their knowledge of the medicinal properties of plants, could heal many diseases. They were not impostors in such claims, but really were able to accomplish much by mental suggestion and by simple reme- dies. The more thoughtful among them saw deeper into the mysteries of life, becoming soothsayers and prophets. Their big brains throbbing with exalted emotions, were so quickened that their increased insight into the mystery of life seemed to them an inspiration from heaven itself, which, like Socrates' dcemon, imparted to them wisdom and understanding. 142 SOCIOLOGY They had acquired the power of looking both " forward and backward," and were rightly deemed most useful members of society. These several classes of priests were really the teachers and scientists of their time; they accumulated knowledge, handed it on by tradition, and thus safeguarded for future generations society's treasures of intellectuality, much of it of course, dross, but with a residuum of real social value. The utility of the priestly class is not so obvious when it became hierarchical in form, and when it began to cherish its best knowledge as a secret to be a^riwttwod. tau S ht onl y to an mner circle, deliberately striving to keep the masses in ignorance. Matters became worse when it heaped up a great load of useless ritual, benumbing social energy, involving wasteful sacrifices, and resulting in the compulsory support of a large body of priests in charge of the daily routine of worship. A priestly leisure class made up of non-producers can be justified only if they really add to mental or cultural achievement, and seek to build up the people in spiritual knowledge. Other- wise they handicap development by emphasis on super- stition and wasteful observances. In the same way progress is hindered if the teachings of the priestly class become fixed, or if the interpreta- tion of the sacred codes or writings is en- teachings 11 trusted to the priestly class only. Dogma- tism of a rigid type is regularly inimical to progressive civilization, and the better religions always provide some means whereby new truth may be received and old teachings rejected if outworn. These means THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 143 may vary from a divinely inspired ecclesiastical head or council at one extreme, to a purely individualistic system based on a theory of " soul liberty" * or freedom of conscience. As is the case in law, traditional mean- ings also may be modified by their codification into creeds, as a sort of fundamental law, and by commen- tary, interpretation and the decisions of official bodies. Ultimately religious teaching tends to harmonize with well-established truths in science and philosophy; the two systems of teaching may occasionally seem to be in opposition, but a faith unreasonable in its basis is finally atrophied and sloughed off as credulity or super- stition, or else is retained as a mere conventional belief. For no religion founded on unreason can retain its hold on the best minds in an age when men are striving to think their way into harmony with the highest and best in the universe. The church is the institution developed for religious purposes, and there should of course be included under The church that term the organization, its rites and as a social ceremonies, its creeds and sacred books, and institution. itg pr i est h 00C L The term church may loosely be applied even to the primitive organization of sav- age life, for the idea underlying it is essentially that of modern times. Like other social institutions the organization of the church is always patterned after the typical social organizations dominant at the time, i.e. after monarchical, aristocratic or democratic models, though ancient forms may survive long after the spirit 1 See Richmond's "Rhode Island," p. 20, in discussion of Roger Williams. 144 SOCIOLOGY underlying them has changed. The church tends to be static and conservative, its office as always being to conserve what is, not to originate the new. For this reason whenever in society any really important religious change becomes inevitable, its advocates must arise from outside the church or withdraw from it in schism. This naturally arouses antagonism, for human experience shows that social institutions strongly entrenched resist vigorously all forms of opposition. Churches, like states and economic systems, war against their antagonists, and the more bitterly, perhaps, if they maintain that their teachings only are inspired, and that they alone know the truth. Such religions, animated by a proselytizing spirit, become fanatical when opposed, and develop a policy of "no quarter." Hence one of the saddest records in all history is that series of bloody wars and persecutions, waged by churches against their rivals and against those who seem to be advancing teachings at variance with what is claimed to be "the word of God" or the creed of the church. 1 Active suppression of opposition is only possible when church and state are united and in close sympathy. It becomes impossible when rivalry between The separa- . tion of them develops through the desire ot the state church from ^ enlarge its functions at the expense of the state church. Historically this rivalry has regu- larly resulted in the victory of the state which has either subordinated and subsidized the church, retain- ing it thereby as a useful ally, or, on the other hand, 1 See White's "A History of the Warfare of Science with Theology in Christendom." THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 145 has confiscated its endowed property, deprived it of political importance, and regulated it like any other social institution. In democracies, under the principle of freedom, the separate spheres of church and state are carefully defined, and a policy of mutual non- interference adopted. This theory of the separation of church and state becomes inevitable in practice when the state becomes the supreme authority. The church has then the alternative of becoming free but self-supporting, or subsidized but dependent on the state. Religious idealism prefers the former, but ex- pediency the latter. I Whenever a church is under the necessity of relying for support on its membership, there is a tendency to Effects of soften the rigidity of religious requirements independ- so as to win popular support. The beliefs of ence * the priesthood become more flexible, and thus toleration and religious freedom succeed dogma- tism and illiberality. When dogmatic teachings and a rigid ecclesiasticism become susceptible of modi- fication, the religious system as a whole much more readily adapts itself to a progressive civilization, and exercises a powerful influence over social life. The enduring quality of the religious institution in history is seen if we note its manifold interests. As a philosophy it had its cosmic theory, seeking o^reiMon 07 ^° snow ^ ne uni ty of all things in a divinity or divinities, who originated, controlled, ani- mated and guided the universe toward a predestined goal. As a science it claimed to possess by revelation the essential laws of knowledge, even demanding at 146 SOCIOLOGY times that science be harmonized with these supposed revelations. In ethics it laid down rules for human conduct, arguing that in so doing it acted by divine authority; in general also it asserted its right to dic- tate principles of action in economic, domestic, political and educational affairs, and to regulate their methods. Naturally such large claims and powers are now not always admitted by other agencies in society, for phi- losophy and science defend their right to promulgate their conclusions even though at variance with theolog- ical teaching; sociological ethics begins to impress on thejj [ church its teachings in regard to social morality; educational systems refuse longer to be subordinated to religious dogma; church and state are separating; the civil law regulates the family; and economic activ- ities are entirely too numerous and complex for the church to regulate. Under such conditions the church of necessity must become either an anachronism, or else must work toward a higher stage of usefulness, cutting loose from routine and pettiness and endeavor- ing to serve again as a prophetic guide for man's idealis- tic longings. V. The Institution of Morals When human beings began to come together in social relations there developed among them customs, or methods of action sanctioned by usage. If custom! 6 a P erson li yes by himself he becomes a law unto himself, but if he lives with his fellows, his habits must harmonize with theirs for the sake of the common welfare. Hence in early civilization what- THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 147 ever conduced to group safety was enforced by public opinion. Conversely what was inimical to public safety was frowned on, and became tabu, or prohibited. If there was a custom partly good and partly bad, there would slowly arise a system of regulation aiming to guide social activity into the safer channel. These notions represent the three great stages of social morals or customs; viz. a social action may be approved, pro- hibited or regulated. In any given code of morals, whether civil, religious or ethical, these three stages are well marked. The ten commandments, 1 for exam- ple, are chiefly prohibitions, but contain also an approval of filial reverence, and a regulation of labor; the law of the land, too, contains a sanction of constitutional principles, prohibitions contained in the criminal code, and such regulations as those of inheritance or the existence of corporations. The logical trend in social development is from prohibition to regulation, and from regulation to approval or sanction. A civilization founded on prohibitions is necessarily backward and primitive. The tabu characterizes an age of immaturity and unreason. It assumes The tabu. to J that persons are too ignorant or too wicked to do what is right, and hence must be forbidden to do harm or evil by wiser and better heads. As persons too evil or ignorant to do right may prefer wrong action even though prohibited, a threat of punishment is regularly added to prohibitions under the notion that the person who may not see the reason for the prohibi- tion or the penalty, may yet dread the penalty suffi- 1 Exodus xx. 148 SOCIOLOGY ciently to refrain from evil actions. When this was insufficient to deter, then penalties were made increas- ingly severe, until prohibitive laws became one long series of torturing punishments, whose very record classes the perpetrators far below the victims of them in evil and ignorance. 1 Yet a tabu stage was a natural development in a genetic civilization. The growing intellect of man became able to see a developing evil, but was not keen enough to know how to eradicate it. His only remedy for it was the natural and animal one of the blow or the bite, except that man, like a cat with a mouse, learned to protract the agony and duration of dying. His career of war also inured him to scenes of blood and suffering, so that he even acquired a delight in the infliction of punishment and torture. For this reason we see in history progressive and conquering nations easily surpassing their more primitive neighbors in cruelty; as illustrated, for instance, by the war methods of the Assyrians, the Romans and the Spaniards. In still higher civilization, however, when, through a long period of peace, gentler emotions arise in the soul, Modifica- a stronger intellect revolts against the vin- tions of dictiveness of such punishments, and seeks to devise kindlier methods for the promotion of social ends. As a result of this, torture and cruelty slowly fall into disuse, humane treatment creeps in, severe penalties are seldom enforced, and whole classes of prohibitions pass out of custom and from the statute books. 1 See, for illustrations, Henry G. Lea, "Superstition and Force," THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 149 From the sociological standpoint it is not difficult to see why the trend of higher civilization is entirely away from prohibitions of all sorts. If evil actions proceed not from natural depravity or inborn tendencies, but are chiefly the effect of vicious environment and defec- tive training in youth, as well as from a heredity affected by these, then the proper remedy is to place prohibi- tions on conditions, not on persons, who should rather be stimulated to right activity through the influence of a proper environment. As mankind rises in the social scale therefore, criminal laws of all sorts should grad- ually disappear, as scientific wisdom becomes able to show how much better it is to regulate activity and develop capacity, than to repress and suppress mis- directed energy. The stage of regulation in morals or customs follows naturally from the stage of prohibition. If a certain form of social activity should neither be pro- i^mo^ais* 11 hibited nor left entirely free, some restrictions for general purposes must be placed on the time, place and manner of exercise, and these will be such as will seem on the whole most conducive to group safety. For instance, sexual passion should not be prohibited in a group, nor can indiscriminate indulgence in it be approved. If it can neither be wholly con- demned nor wholly approved, it must be regulated, and this is clear when the differing interests of males and females and of rival males are taken into account. Hence there developed customs in simple group life that in effect fixed standards of chastity, regulated the institution of marriage and ordained permissible meth- 150 SOCIOLOGY ods of divorce. So long as this powerful passion is not dominated by ethical idealism and the intellect, there will be need of social regulation. If the time should ever come when humanity is pure-minded and self-controlled, then all such regulations would pass into disuse, and the marriage relation be dominated solely by the power of public opinion sanctioning high standards. In highly developed societies there are undoubtedly many persons to whom the prohibitions and regulations of society are unnecessary. These persons vio- standards late no criminal code, they need no stimulus of morals f f ear or punishment to inspire them to right possible. . * to action, and they voluntarily conform to the highest standards set by society. Such persons illus- trate the possibilities of human progress, and indicate the path of social development. Prohibitions and reg- ulations are for the vicious, the immature and the ignorant, and will pass into oblivion in proportion as society becomes able by wisdom to banish vice and ignorance from social life. Family and school disci- pline, religious teachings and changes in criminal law, all furnish abundant illustration of the passing of tabu civilization, the reduction in the extent of regulation of conduct, and the growing assumption that human nature rightly developed and trained can become a law unto itself. In a simple social group customs are undifferentiated. Custom was custom, and no questions were asked as to whether it was primarily religious, economic or domestic. As, however, the intellect began to notice differences and make comparisons, there grew up a THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 151 distinction in mind between customs that set the standards between men and divinity on the one hand, and between men and men on the other. ferentLted Likewise the customs involved in men's deal- ings with one another became differentiated still further, and it is possible to distinguish in thought 8f whole series of customs, such as civic, economic, domes- tic, educational and the like. If some of these happen to be relatively insignificant, they may be left entirely to public opinion for enforcement; or if on the other hand they be deemed of real importance to group safety, public opinion may voice itself in a definite way through parent, church or state, for example, so as to obtain and enforce its will. Opinion as to what is or is not important may vary according to the age and the group, and it may be conflicting in dynamic civil- ization, but a moral obligation will be attached to whatever customs are thought to involve group safety, others diminishing in importance until they are con- sidered mere customs, unmoral by nature, and like the rules of etiquette, are left to social opinion for enforce- ment. Evidently the power to distinguish differences such as these implies mental acumen and a recognition of moral standards. Lacking this insight all Imperfec- m ° ° tions of customs seem of equal importance, and a customary similar punishment may be meted out for standards. a slight offense as for a heinous crime. Or again, if the same offense is committed by different persons a crude civilization may punish both alike, taking no account of differences in age, sex, personality 152 SOCIOLOGY or environment. A high civilization in morals, then, implies an ability to set up standards, to note carefully differences in conditions, and then to combine all of these conclusions into generalizations, which will repre- sent the moral judgment of the community. This capacity is evidently so rare, that the moral standards and judgments of society may justly be suspected of imperfection. As a matter of fact society has often made its commands imperative by asserting an infal- libility in its rules, and has grounded its decisions on other authority, such as a revelation from divinity, or on the ancient custom of ancestors, the will of a divinely inspired king or priest, or on a conscience supposedly in harmony with the principle of justice. More and more, however, the conviction grows that it is unwise to fix standards of morality for all time by such assumptions, but rather that a developing civilization should see more clearly into moral principles as genera- tions pass on, and should revise its standards as knowl- edge increases, and deeper reflection becomes possible. For such reasons sociology holds it advisable in an age of transition, to call into question all standards of Changing morality, not for the purpose of over- standards throwing them, but so as to lead to the of morality. e ii mmat i on f w h a t may be obsolete, and the strengthening of what really helps toward the safety and health of society. Especially should pro- hibitions in morals be carefully examined so as to see whether society is not ready to substitute for them a system of wise regulation and control. In this dy- namic age, the entire field of civic and moral reform THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 153 furnishes illustrations of this trend, and in all depart- ments of social activity changing moral standards may be observed. For instance, religious teachers no longer insist on a lengthy series of prohibitions, as, for example, the tabu on certain amusements, or a rigid compliance with ritualistic or ceremonial requirements, but they rather set up and emphasize an ideal standard of an altruistic life. Domestic and educational training is passing from stern disciplinary authority enforced by corporal punishments to a combination of kindergarten methods and comradeship. The prohibitive aspect of law is passing into regulation and control through the influence of public opinion and administrative depart- ments: capital and other severe punishments die out, the jail and the dungeon are succeeded by the proba- tion system for the young, and industrial places of detention for adults, and the habitual drunkard is no longer considered a criminal fit only for the jail, but as a proper subject for medical treatment, just as the insane are placed under the care of a physician, instead of suffering maltreatment as demoniacs. In general the best instruction in ethics is no longer given by prohibitions but by incitement to right action through precept and example, in imitation of Chaucer's village parson, of whom it is said: " But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve, He taught, and ferst he folwed it himselve." It is probably socially unnecessary that society insist on a common ethical standard in detail for all conditions of men. As long as society is divided into classes of 154 SOCIOLOGY differing grades of moral and intellectual attainment, full uniformity in moral conduct will be impossible, and attempts to insist on it will result only ass ,. i in social friction. All may believe in honor, morality. J virtue and honesty, even though no two per- sons can agree in respect to fine distinctions and detailed applications of principles to conduct. A certain lati- tude is inevitable if one takes into account differences in heredity and environment. Just as a Roman judge might administer indifferently either local law or jus gentium according to circumstances, so a judge in morals should be able to insist on fundamental princi- ples, even though he should make wide differences in application. A slight fault in one might deserve sterner treatment than a serious crime in another, just as a poisonous pin scratch may be far more serious than a clean wound from a dagger. It would seem also as though the moral pride of a class consciousness is socially worth preserving. Some of our highest and best achievements in moral life have been class, not collective achievements, such as, for instance, the bushido, 1 or knightly code of the Japanese, the caste morality of India, the noblesse oblige and "honor" of western civilization, and the pride of a workman or a manufacturer in the quality and honesty of his product. On the basis of a group morality, no matter how simple and petty, might be built up a nobler standard, which should grow from, but never entirely supplant, its more deeply rooted but morally inferior parent. 1 Inazo Nitobe\ "Bushido, "1905, 10th edition. THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 155 In the differentiation of custom already given is to be sought those great classes of morals that play so Differing important a part in human civilization, codes of Each set represents a great achievement, is conserved by definite institutions, and is imparted to succeeding generations in formal systems of instruction. The church as the institution for re- ligious purposes has developed its schools and the priesthood, so as to teach through these principles of action for the regulation of conduct toward God and man. The family and school combined impart instruc- tion in simple morals, and train the child to work cooperatively in the group. The state devotes its attention to such customs as concern the security and amplification of life and property. Economic institu- tions work out a moral code for business and fix by law and public opinion the rules of economic competi- tion and fair-dealing. In numerous institutions for moral, esthetic and intellectual purposes, principles, standards and codes are worked out, so that in any particular department of human activity the custom or morals to be observed will be enforced by the par- ticular public opinion attached to each institution. Thus in every profession or economic occupation there is a well-recognized code that must be observed by those within the group, just as in athletics players must conform to the rules of the game, and just as even among thieves fair play and "honor" must be maintained. Ethical customs of all sorts are subject to gradual modification in genetic civilization, though such modi- 156 SOCIOLOGY fications are at a minimum in static civilization. In dynamic civilization, however, change is so necessary, Modifica- that society has devised many ways of tions in accomplishing it. The easiest and most natural is to introduce change by inter- pretation. Words acquire slight variations in sense through varying mentalities; there may be even deliberate misinterpretations by those in authority; secondary and primary meanings become confused, and all these causes combine to bring about modifica- tions in moral codes. The process can easily be illus- trated by a study of legal fictions, or of any commen- tary on law or on sacred writings. A far more important system of modification orig- inated when, as in legislation, persons in authority deliberately canceled an old custom, introduced a new, and compelled conformity to it. Roman judicial de- cisions under the empire, the councils of the church, and parliaments or legislatures of all kinds and degrees furnish numerous illustrations of the process. Arti- ficial or telic customs of this sort represent one of the great achievements of dynamic civilization, and though legislation in morals is often unwise, and is responsible for many social evils, yet it is destined, as it becomes scientific, to be one of the greatest agencies of civiliza- tion for the removal of law or custom once useful, that in process of time has become a hindrance to higher civilization. Such revisions of codes should always of course be sustained by public opinion, though they will be voiced by the institutional groups of society, and by voluntary organizations formed for purposes of reform. THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 157 In early civilization emphasis is placed wholly on group safety, and the entire system of morality is based on group custom. The special interests and be- moraiity ^ s °^ *' ne ^dividual as such are of no impor- tance in comparison with the demands of the group, and he must be prepared to sacrifice life and family at the command of the authorities. This social requirement has become so engrained in humanity by centuries of training, that practically all persons still comply with social demands. Whenever public opinion definitely expresses itself, men yield to its commands, even though, as in war, it may involve the loss of domestic comfort, property or life itself. The same devotion is found also in the membership of other forms of group life, as in domestic and religious groups or societies, and in the numerous fraternities so common even among savage peoples. 1 This group cohesion is one of the most valuable products of civilization, involving as it does cooperation, altruism and the subordination of the individual to general welfare. Public opinion may demand even the subjection of one's conscience to public necessity, as voiced, e. g. in Gino Capponi's famous praise of those "who love their country better than the safety of their own souls." 2 Machiavelli's Prince is another illustration of this, being the familiar argument that for the good of the state one may do all manner of wickedness, since the end justifies the means. Modern illustrations are numer- ous enough; at times persons of excellent morals will 1 See, for illustrations, Hutton Webster, "Primitive Secret So- cieties." 2 Villari's "Machiavelli," vol. iii, p. 253. 158 SOCIOLOGY carry out policies plainly immoral, although seemingly beneficial to the group they represent. Hence we have the odd paradox in popular belief that a person may rightfully do for the group, what he as an individual is forbidden by conscience to do. As a diplomat or statesman he may give bribes, betray confidences, and oppress the weak if a favorable opportunity offers. As a soldier in service he may commit murder, steal prop- erty, and seek to inflict damage in every possible way. As the head of a corporation he may bribe, break laws, and steal franchises to the detriment of his fellow-citi- zens. As a politician he may debauch voters, break the laws of his country, and violate the rules of honesty and fair dealing; and as a lawyer he may use chicanery in practice, and teach corporations how to evade the laws he has sworn to uphold. In the beginnings of civilization there was no such chasm between public and private interests. Property in the main was communal, social classes had Opposition of public not definitely been formed, and all shared and private a Jik e m toil and reward. Under such con- interests ditions public opinion voiced by custom was a safe guide, and when a decision had once been made, opposition was probably selfish and rightly suppressed. Distinctions gradually crept in through the rise of classes and the development of individuals who dared to uphold their beliefs against group teaching. As private property grew in importance through the rise of individual ownership of land, capital, privileges and monopolies, the owners of this wealth developed a code suited to their own interests, and not necessarily iden- THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 159 tical with one suited to the community as a whole. Again, as a leisure class arose and differentiated into the nobility and the professional group these also built up their own codes, so that in process of time what might be right or moral for one class might be wrong or immoral for another. 1 Evidently the dominant class or classes, in asserting the right to determine what was best for group or race safety, would naturally insist on a code suited to their own interests. Their decision, however, might be entirely contrary to the beliefs of the other classes, and these, if intelligent, would be in a dilemma as to whether they should adhere to the command of the dominant group or to the standards of their own classes. In modern days such struggles even in advanced societies are numerous; should, for example, Friends, or other advocates of peace, be compelled to pay a war tax and serve in the army; ave men traitors who for moral reasons oppose the policy of their government while it is engaged in war; are dissenters rebellious who refuse to pay a tax for education in the schools of a state church; and should an oppressed mass of citizens fighting against a tyrannical government be treated as rebels or as patriots? History is filled with illustrations of the ways in which social ethics may differentiate into class ethics, and how each class may possibly consider its standards more worthy of obedience than the com- 1 A French nobleman of the eighteenth century naively put the thought in this form: "God would hesitate a long time before he would damn a gentleman"; who presumably was free to commit crimes from which an ordinary man must refrain ! 160 SOCIOLOGY mands of society as a whole, if these are voiced through a rival but dominant class. The question is still further complicated when indi- viduals in advance of their age, or behind it, vigorously individual- msis ^ on their right to follow their own con- istic codes victions as to their rightful course of action, of morals, g^h a person may be bad or vicious, and insist on having his own will irrespective of general welfare; or he may be one who sees more clearly the trend of development, who abominates passing standards, and is willing to die fighting against them and for what he considers to be right; or he may be a "superman" rejoicing in his strength, trampling on the conventional, and determined to force his will on the community whether for weal or woe. When society, in place of a simple general code of morals binding on all alike, finds itself thus torn by dissension among conflicting codes of group, irTmorais 11 c ^ ass anc * individual, ' its alternative is either to enforce vigorously a dominant code and stamp out opposition if possible, or to become tolerant, insisting merely on adherence to fundamental provisions and allowing a large freedom in all other matters. In democracies liberty is deemed so essential, that freedom to follow the dictates of one's conscience in morals as well as in religion is considered the mark of a develop- ing civilization. Consequently one of the great socio- logical problems of the age is to show how an individual may cheerfully obey a code set by a group, and at the same time satisfy the dictates of his own conscience. In other words how can a person be truly an organic THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 161 member of human society, and retain at the same time his personal and racial individuality? The solution is slowly being worked out in modern social regulation. There is, for example, an increasing recognition of the essential harmony of gen- .«» _i.M,». eral economic and cultural interests. In regulation. place of fierce antagonism, and group and class struggle, there is a slow movement toward recip- rocity, collective bargaining, joint agreements and the arbitration of disputes. The personality of individuals is respected more and more, and a sort of cosmopolitan fraternalism succeeds racial and class hostility. There are international associations of working men, inter- national groups for religious, educational and scientific purposes, and the diplomatic discussions of nations are devoted less to the laws of war, and more to the rights of neutrals, and treaties of amity and commerce. This trend is powerfully supported by the growing altruism of humanity. Within the petty primitive group there was sympathy one for another Humanita- i i, • ,• ,• •■ e 1 ir rian ethics anc * altruistic activity lor general welfare, but enmity and a policy of exploitation expressed the group attitude toward all outside of it. Again, the cultural development of the group was so slight that what sympathy and altruism existed, was relatively of a low order, involving chiefly the satis- faction of physical needs. The movement to include within the group as worthy of altruistic service others than those of one's kin or nationality, has been remark- ably slow in development, but modern illustrations of it can readily be traced in the great anti-slavery and 162 SOCIOLOGY missionary movements of the last two hundred years. We are yet far from an era of the brotherhood of man, even though religion theoretically assumes that "God . . . made of one blood all the nations of the earth"; but as men are drawn closer together by common interests and better knowledge of one another's nobler qualities, there may tend to develop a race or group morality that will allow no distinctions based on dif- ference in color or degree of civilization. As Burns puts it, " It's comin' yet for a' that, That man to man, the warld o'er, Shall brothers be for a' that! " ' In addition to this broadening of the group, there has been also a deepening of the intensity of altru- istic feeling. The simple, spontaneous sym- aitruism pathy of natural kinship is unreflecting and injudicious. It acts on the impulse of the moment, without thought of consistency or conse- quences. But as the race develops in experience and in mentality, its sympathies become ordered, purposive and consistent. Temporary alleviation of distress changes into a desire to banish the causes of misery, and spasmodic altruism becomes a humanitarianism so generous in its scope as to include animal and plant life and an appreciation of the beauty of nature itself. This deepening of human interests can be traced best from the eighteenth century, when in western Europe, though especially in France, there came a growing 1 Burns, "Is there, for honest poverty." THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 163 emphasis on the humane and the natural. The strength of this newer sympathy can be noted even in the wild scenes of the French Revolution, when the French by legislation attempted to forbid cruelty to animals, to alleviate the conditions of the proletariat, to exalt the status of women, and to emphasize the equality and fraternity of mankind. From those days to the present, in higher civilization cruelty in any form whatsoever has become abhorrent; the pain of surgery, the suffering of neglected childhood, the woes of a half-starved prole- tariat, the misery involved in crime, vice, pauperism, slavery, vivisection, ill treatment of animals, 1 or even wanton injury to trees or natural scenery, are all studied so as to remove the evil involved. This altruistic development indicates the changing bases of morality. In a simple economic civilization the cultural side of social life must be corre- A new basis v i • 1 i tj. • j. c for morality s P on dmgly simple, and morality consists of the homely virtues strengthened through struggle against odds. When, however, economic con- ditions become complex, the earlier sort of morality yields in part to the broader aspects of cultural civil- ization. The morality of freedom succeeds customary and compulsory morality. The individual must move in the midst of a thousand temptations and yet exer- cise self-control. He is not so much to avoid a pen- alty as to learn how wisely to choose happiness. We are passing, as Dr. Patten 2 puts it, from a pain to a pleasure economy. We are set against pain and ^ee Henry S. Salt. " Animals' Rights." 2 " The Theory of Social Forces." 164 SOCIOLOGY purpose to minimize it. We desire to multiply the happiness of men and to develop their natures so that they will adapt themselves to newer standards of altruism; for we have become deeply sympathetic and will rest satisfied only with the perfect happiness of every man — an 'eternal task, since perfect happiness is always in the future, and impossible of human attain- ment. Sympathy, however, will become increasingly positive, but in place of sympathy with suffering, will come sympathy with joy and happiness, and the kin- ship of kindliness will take the place of the primitive kinship of blood. 1 Like the joy of a mother as she watches the play of her children and dreams of their continued happiness and helpfulness in maturity, so society as a fostering parent will strive to free her chil- dren from pain, to lead them into the paths of happi- ness, and as they mature will expect them to dedicate their lives to the common well-being. The coming stage therefore in ethical standards will be brought about by the telic development of moral ideals. Prohibitive codes and minute regu- ideahsm lations of all sorts are already rapidly becom- ing obsolete; while a full freedom of con- science must be maintained, a wise social policy will see to it that individual minds are trained under such stimulating surroundings that they will easily and ^spontaneously turn toward the nobler standards of action. The doctrine of the innate depravity of man has fortunately gone to join the hell from which it sprung, and in place of it religion teaches men to believe 1 See Charles F. Dole, "The Coming People." THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 165 in the essential Godlikeness of humanity. The goal therefore in social ethics is plain; on the assumption that men prefer right to wrong under proper condi- tions in life, the aim of ethical reforms should be to moralize the conditions of human existence through economic changes, to stimulate moral idealism by wiser education and training, to remove as rapidly as possible from our codes prohibitions and restraints, and then, by the pressure of intelligent public opinion, to guide social morality along lines that racial experience and reflection have shown to be productive of race safety and human happiness. CHAPTER VIII THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS (Continued) VI. Cultural Development When Plato in his "Republic" tried, for argu- ment's sake, to depict the delights of the simple life, Basis of fastidious Glaucon protested on the ground cultural that such an existence was more suited for civilization. & community f swine than f men .l A similar objection would hold in regard to a civiliza- tion based merely on material achievement. If phys- ical enjoyment and the amassing of wealth were the final pursuits of society, others besides Huxley would wish for a kindly comet to come and sweep away the earth into primitive chaos. Yet in social evolution all things are traceable to humble origins, and the Greek ideals of the good, the beautiful and the true, are after all mere by-products of the material and the useful. The chief defect of Indian philosophy is the neglect of this principle. Its philosophers in their search for truth failed to see the necessity of scientific knowledge as a basis for a developed material civilization, which in its turn would be a basis for art and philosophy. They fixed their attention on transcendental themes, to the neglect of the world of activity, which indeed 'Book II, Sec. 372. 166 THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 167 to them seemed mere illusion in comparison to absorp- tion in the infinite. By this reversion of the natural order of social evolution, India developed marvelous systems of religion and philosophy, well worthy of pro- foundest respect, the effect of which, however, has been to deaden social energy and to heap up an end- less burden of ritualism and superstition on an inert and poverty-stricken population. Had that same intel- lectual capacity devoted itself to scientific achievement, yoking in that way intellectuality and material prog- ress, India would now in all probability be a dominant nation, wealthy and powerful, having all the conditions for cultural civilization, and would supply to the world a philosophy less transcendental presumably, but more true to science. For only through material attainment does it become possible to free a relatively large part of a population from economic toil, and to make knowl- edge accessible to all. As long as a civilization is agricultural, neglecting commerce and manufactures, it is impossible to amass a surplus for the comfortable support of a relatively large leisure class. Increased wealth in the community makes possible a wide dif- fusion of knowledge and the utilization of dormant mental energy. Capacity for the highest mentality is potential in the humblest human stock, but can be called forth only by centuries of training under the most favorable conditions. These, in the form of leisure and a stimulating mental environment, have come to some extent to-day, when a man by his power over nature is enabled to perform through machinery the work of a thousand men. It is important, therefore, 168 SOCIOLOGY to see that sociological theory emphasizes the material as fundamental, not because it is relatively better than the cultural, but because without it cultural civilization becomes fantastic in aim, the monopoly of a few, and the adornment of a class, rather than the inspiration of a people. Ethnological studies show clearly how readily the human mind, when bodily wants are satisfied and foods , , are abundant, turns toward the esthetic, and Growth of , ' . ' . cultural reflects on the moralities of human relation- achieve- ships and on the supernatural. For under such conditions social companionship becomes possible, language grows by use, there is a play of mind on mind, and kindlier feelings are developed. Every achievement out of the usual attracts attention, and by imitation becomes a group possession ; reminiscences and interpretations of experiences are exchanged, and the mind, receptive to such knowledge, becomes stored with useful information. Combinations of color, the rhythm of motion and tone, early captivated men's imagination, and the beauty of the celestial bodies and the blue sky called out a reverence for something bigger and better than the petty round of material experience. These higher appreciations reacted on the routine of their daily life, so that they saw beauty in the sheltering tree, in the spring that supplied refresh- ing water, in the friendly faces of companions and in the graceful gamboling of playing children. 1 Then they strove to actualize their esthetic imaginings, and made 1 For studies showing the social importance of play, see Karl Groos, " The Play of Animals," and " The Play of Man." THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 169 constant attempts to adorn their utensils, weapons and habitations, and to beautify their bodies by ornamen- tation and clothing, itself probably chiefly intended then and largely even now for purposes of adornment. Under such influences by slow degrees the human nerv- ous system became differentiated so as to respond to higher emotions, so that men sought to satisfy the craving for the thrill and ecstasy of life by rude attempts in dancing, music, poetry and the drama; and, as the hand became flexible, in symbolic drawings. As the intellect became able to concentrate its attention on the properties and relationships of things, as well as on things themselves, there came notions of goodness based on an appreciation of what was safe for the group, and the conclusion that what the group considered useful, good and beautiful was also true, and as truth should be fixed by custom and held sacred. As these standards became hallowed by time, they became conventionalized and tended to arrest the progress of civilization. Set customs, beliefs standards an ^ standards hold men in bondage to a dead ancestry, so that the very goodness of the past may become a curse to the present. As the Greeks used to say, "the good is often the enemy of the best." Civilization attains a relative goodness, sanctions it, passes it on by custom and tradition, and then easily assumes that anything in opposition is false and bad. Even in the United States to be charged with heresy and radicalism is a serious crime in popular estimation, but in static civilization it is high treason and the unpardonable sin. 170 SOCIOLOGY The fundamental conditions of social life have often, however, been upset by war or by economic necessity _ or by some great inventive achievement, and Dynamic . . changes in in consequence newer cultural ideals have cultural arisen. This difference may be introduced ideals by the differing ideals of the conquerors, or mentality may quicken through social friction, and cultural standards develop to a higher plane in the minds of the leisure class. These standards by imita- tion, conscious or unconscious, would pass down into the mass of the race and thus slowly supersede lower standards. By repeated changes of this sort there would develop constantly rising standards of cultural civilization, and slow progress would take place. If on the other hand the material conditions of life should become steadily worse for a given race, degeneration would follow; for a people, like an individual, sinks into degradation when it loses its self-respect. Fortunately for cultural civilization dynamic changes developed a class of masterful persons who attained for themselves wealth and leisure. Out of The leisure . i • i r i r • a l class ^ nis c ^ ass > freed from economic struggle, came a long line of statesmen, warriors, priests, idealists and thinkers, who devoted themselves to cultural achievements, and thus gave a mighty impetus to higher civilization. The members of a leisure class with relatively powerful mentality, de- barred by custom from participation in menial indus- trial pursuits or trade, must turn their energy either into wasteful or else apparently non-useful directions. They may devote themselves mainly to dissipation, to THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 171 games and athletic exercises or to ceremonial social life ; or they may seek to occupy their minds with esthetic and intellectual pursuits, devoting themselves to art, music, literature and the drama, or to science and philosophy. Doubtless a large part of the energy of the leisure class was wasted or worse than wasted, but here and there, tasks undertaken so as to escape ennui, the curse of leisure, became in process of time pleasur- able in themselves, so that many persons became really fond of the esthetic and intellectual. Their manifest delight in their new occupations stimulated others to like pursuits, and created a feeling of emulation, so that gradually there arose a conviction that mental and social superiority were indicated by the possession of cultural desires and by a knowledge of cultural achieve- ments. Then began that movement toward cultural civilization into which mankind is slowly passing at the present time. Cultural knowledge and desires have so far come to be considered the mark of high breeding, that every person who aspires to be ranked high in social estimation must at any rate have the appearance of culture. Hence, historically speaking, the children of the leisure class were to some extent withdrawn from play and natural pursuits and compelled to slavery spend long hours in study, with the hope that they might attain a love for the esthetic and the philosophic, or at any rate seem to have a knowledge of these cultural accomplishments. In essence this is a kind of slavery. Just as forced labor developed in man a fondness for work and physical 172 SOCIOLOGY exercise, so compulsory service in mental toil is thought to create ultimately a taste for higher education, the shibboleth of modern society. This newer slavery, like economic slavery, has its good and bad aspects. Eco- nomic slavery is certainly evil in that it emphasizes a dull and monotonous routine of tiresome labor, with- out incentive, and lacking all stimulus to higher achieve- ment. The treadmill of higher education, in so far as it reproduces such slavery in the intellectual field, is also evil. As in the classical education of the Chinese, or the traditional curriculum of old-fashioned colleges, obsolete teachings, once noble and inspiring, may be so spun out into endless detail as to produce ineffable weariness in the mind of the pupil, who in daily life lives in an entirely different atmosphere. Yet the mind by endless repetition may become so used to its routine as to like it, and may become blinded to higher and broader achievements through devotion to the dead; like the ass that, released from the weary path of the millstone, still treads it out of habit, to the neglect of the clover fields beyond. On the other hand slavery has a distinct utility, when it accustoms men to work and produces economic results; so also there may be a utility in compulsory mental work, if it result in men- tal training. One should never forget, however, that compulsion and slavery are marks of low civilization, and best suited to the conditions and needs of primitive hu- manity. It seems like a contradiction of terms to think of compulsion in higher education, as though Socrates or Plato should compel his students to recite on THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 173 Attic philosophy, or insist that they display high intel- ligence in their replies to interrogations, under penalty of expulsion. If Greeks are made slaves, Higher edu- . ' cation for one feels the incongruity of it. Compulsory the elite education given from the view point of men- tal gymnastics, dulls the mind, destroys the incentive to achievement, and develops prigs and pedants instead of an elite. In other words cultural educa- tion should not be imparted merely to children of a wealthy class as a testimonial of social superiority, and should never be presented in any traditional form. Rather it should be held out in its highest and most inspiring forms as a prize for the capable, made acces- sible even to the humblest born; and those should be stimulated to attain it who feel in their hearts the desire to get beyond the material and to grasp after the ideals of higher civilization. There is a certain type of mind that even in child- hood begins to manifest its superiority by the receptive manner in which it holds itself toward the The world round about. There are eyes that receptive i • i mind. see not and ears that hear not, but a mind which has the scientific faculty of observa- tion is different in quality. It sees, compares and classifies, thus storing up ideas and judgments for future use. If it then has presented to it a developing series of useful information and knowledge, with hints as to possible attainments in the future, imagination begins to work on the material already acquired, and to reshape it into creative forms. If the mind, for exam- ple, is made familiar with tools, the properties of matter, 174 SOCIOLOGY * and the utilization of natural energy, it turns intui- tively into the direction of invention, and by experi- mentation endeavors to make an improvement in some familiar field, or from known laws and principles seeks to work out in the laboratory a new scientific truth. If, again, the mind becomes familiar with esthetic standards, during adolescence its higher emotions will turn toward ideals of beauty in form, color or sound, and in sculpture, painting or music will seek to embody in tangible shape the ideals of the imagination strug- gling for expression. As the years of maturity approach, ideals of ingenuity and beauty lead it to ideals of goodness and truth, and the great principles of ethics and philosophy fascinate one's attention. From that time forth the student has sounded the depths of human experience and is prepared for high civilization. He has passed from the material to the esthetic, and thence to the moral and the intellectual. He appreciates the worth of economic principles and the value of culture, and has become in the proper sense of the term edu- cated. Yet this is by no means a common experience. Many children through heredity are hopelessly dull and unimaginative. Many more are made so by defec- tive training in home or school, so that the higher capacities of their minds become atrophied. Others may become expert in inventive directions but may never gain appreciation of the cultural elements of life. Others again may develop the esthetic but not the moral or the intellectual, and become perverts, socially injurious in spite of their artistic qualifications. Or the moral may be developed without the intellectual, THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 175 or the intellectual without the moral, or, as so com- monly is the case, persons may be trained in all of these, but so defectively in method or in accuracy, that they are seriously handicapped by the neces- sity of rejecting in the future much of their past instruction. Yet the hope of future improvement in higher civil- ization lies in the possibility of the multiplication of cultural achievement. Life must really be portance "of mac ^ e worth living not for the few only but cultural for the many. At present it is a mere ac ieve- existence to most, often unendurable, and ment. ' frequently evaded by suicide. The pleas- ures of physical appetites, even if abundantly satisfied, as is rarely the case, are short in duration and decrease in intensity with age. A joyless old age is inevitable for those who live for physical gratification only. Even if happiness is found in economic pursuit and the amass- ing of wealth, absorption in this alone dwarfs a man's intellect and starves his soul. Economic attainment and achievement are fundamental to the individual as well as to society, but chiefly as a foundation on which he may erect the real habitation of the mind, viz. a love for culture, a thirst for knowledge, and the joy of achievement. The happiness in cultural attainment is permanent, for it is easily recalled to the memory, strengthens by use, and remains through life. The physical passions and appetites are few in number, are easily satiated, and over-indulgence becomes pain- ful; but the esthetic, moral and intellectual desires are innumerable, and the more one develops his capacity 176 SOCIOLOGY in these directions, the greater becomes the number of possibilities for their satisfaction. When such ideals as these possess the mind, it becomes absorbed in them to the exclusion of vice and dissipation. The higher subordinates the lower, and the person has, sociologi- cally speaking, "become converted." For such reasons the social importance of having a fraction at least of society set apart for cultural The telic achievement should be fully recognized. In achievement genetic civilization this of course is done by separating from the mass a nobility or a professional class, freeing them from the necessity of economic toil, and then in a sense trusting to luck that they will produce a cultural civilization worthy of the group. Whether or not this is the result, it is, at all events, like all genetic achievement, highly expensive in proportion to the benefits received. Not only do these classes achieve much that is socially injurious along with the beneficial, but the good rela- tively decreases as the classes become hereditary. If a noble and professional class were made up only of those who had shown their capacity by their deeds, it might well be given generous economic support so as to induce it to continue its achiev^nents. An hereditary class, however, produces the usual per cent of dullards and aimless individuals, who naturally should drop back into the ranks of industrial workers, but who instead are supported at the expense of society and become social drones and parasites. The first great demand therefore in social theorizing in regard to the leisure class is that membership in it be thrown open THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 177 to competition. Plato in his " Republic " advocated such a system and would have the highest positions in society open to the most capable citizens, irrespec- tive of rank or sex. The ancient Chinese system of office holding is based on the same idea, and, aside from the fact that the standards of success demanded a mastery of antiquated knowledge, if honestly admin- istered would be most excellent. At any rate one of the most important developments in social history is the rise of a demand that an hereditary leisure class shall give place to one chosen for capacity and achieve- ment. As Napoleon put it, there was a marshal's baton in the knapsack of every French soldier; or as a Republican politician once coarsely said, even a New York hangman can aspire to and become President of the United States. 1 This great change we already see in process of con- summation. In nearly all civilized countries men from the ranks may push to the front, lead armies, A career , , • , for talent govern states, manage great economic inter- ests, enter the professions, or become the artists and philosophers of the age. In consequence of this change many offices once unpaid are now paid so as to furnish a means of support to their holders; fees, patents and copyrights supply income; and artis- tic achievements find a ready sale in the markets. Membership in the leisure class, therefore, is in part on a competitive basis; it is thrown open to all mem- 1 For typical studies of theories of class struggle, see Bibliography under names W. H. Mallock, W. J. Ghent, and T. B. Veblen. Note also Wallis' "An Examination of Society," first four chapters. 178 SOCIOLOGY bers of society, and economic support is generously given from the returns of industrial production to those who maintain cultural achievement. There are, however, other possibilities of improve- ment in connection with the leisure class. Membership in it is filled by genetic not telic choice, and Genetic 1 • 1 • i , • • •, i_i choice ere a S am m uch social waste is inevitable. Society makes no attempt to select its capa- ble citizens and train them for cultural achievement. It waits until a person has fought his way to notice and made his achievement, and then receives him into the charmed circle of leisure. The theory in justifica- tion of this is that a talented person or a genius will inevitably become famous, and that the very process of intensive struggle is essential to greatness. There is of course some truth in this; some great men do struggle up from the ranks to leadership, and a certain kind of greatness is best developed in the school of hard knocks. The question arises, however, whether many naturally gifted persons are not physically and mentally stunted by the wretched environment of their early Wasteful- ness of youth ; whether many others are not so genetic poorly circumstanced through poverty and the lack of stimulating mental surroundings, that the energy of their minds is expended in inferior directions; whether others again arc not distorted by unscientific education, so that they never attain to their real possibilities; and whether, finally, there are not some natures so sensitive and refined, that their best products become blighted in a keenly competitive THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 179 system, so that the aggressive only survives but not the ethereal and the spiritual. "In quietness the divine is born," not in Wall Street or in the stock yards of Chicago. Gray's " Elegy in a Country Churchyard," is an apt illustration of the newer thought. There is latent in Latent *he mass °f mankind, of whatever degree caient and of civilization, a very much larger per cent genms. Q £ ^ a ] en ^ anc | g en i us than ever will come to notice through its own unaided exertions, and some method should be devised whereby this potential capac- ity, so greatly needed by society, may be developed and utilized for cultural achievement. There is undoubtedly latent in every society an enormous amount of capacity for material invention, only awaiting proper training and opportunity for usefulness. In the same manner right training and opportunity in cultural civilization for all would call out latent power that would enrich with its achieve- ments the society that gave it life and nurture. If children at birth are favored with a normal physique and mentality, are wisely trained in body and mind, are freed from the handicap of extreme poverty, sur- rounded by the evidences of cultural life, and stimulated by contact with higher education, all the conditions are present that should result in the development of whatever talent and genius there is. Then if society is dynamic, abundant opportunity will arise and allow expression to talent or genius. It matters little whether this be in one direction or another. Rarely does it happen that talent is suited to one occupation only. 180 SOCIOLOGY Any sphere of activity that opens itself is sufficient. The pent-up energy, guided by a well-trained intellect, soon finds its appropriate task and will achieve in almost any conceivable direction. One of the chief aims of society, therefore, should be to provide for its citizens a favoring environment in the way of libraries, museums, art institutes and kindred cultural agencies, and to provide carefully planned systems of education of many kinds, and a healthful physical and economic environment. Its reward will come in the material and cultural achievements made by its citizens. There is still another point needing attention in respect to the leisure class. To many it seems un- Leisure f iur ^ na t soc iety should be divided, even if and the intelligently done, into a leisure class and in ustnes. & c \ ass f industrial workers. It is argued that the leisure class also should engage in industrial labor, so as to keep in touch with the material side of civilization and thus be identified with humanity as a whole; and on the other hand it is asserted that the industrial class should be allowed leisure, in order that they might make some attainment in cultural knowledge and share to a small extent at least in its achievements. From the sociological standpoint the force of the argument must be admitted. Permanently mankind cannot remain half cultural, half industrial in occupation. Yet if participation in industrial life by the leisure class meant a lessening of achievement in cultural civilization, it would be more expedient to condone a social cleavage than to lessen the output of higher civilization. Indications, however, are pointing THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 181 to a possible solution that in process of time may solve the dilemma. As man advances in knowledge he learns how more effectively to master nature, to ma- nipulate its resources at will, and to harness for his purposes its energy and productivity. Each forward step implies that men shall henceforth rely less on their own muscular exertions and more on mental capacity. The mechanical, routine drudgery of life is slowly passing away, and in its place is coming a demand for trained intellect utilizing machinery. But this implies far greater productivity for the same amount of human energy. Hence it is becoming possi- ble to reduce the necessary hours of daily labor from fifteen to twelve, from twelve to ten, from ten to nine, from nine to eight, and the time will yet come when from three to four hours per day will be ample for all purposes. As the working day decreases in length, the worker will find himself with abundant leisure on his hands, and he also will find pleasure in the arts, in science and in philosophic meditation. In short, all will become members of the leisure class, for all will have energy and opportunity for the cultivation of the higher life. For this reason sociology insists on the final elimination of unskilled and wretchedly paid labor and the substitution of machinery for it. With it will go the large family of the improvident, reared in crowded tenements and so prolific in vice, crime and pauperism. When unskilled labor and ignorance disappear from civilization, the social reformer will at last come into his own, and Utopians may rest in peace. 182 SOCIOLOGY Sociology, therefore, is in essence neither aristocratic nor democratic, but prefers a synthesis of these social The real ideals. All are called to social achievement, classes in many strive to accomplish, and some succeed society. beyond their early dreams. The real elite in society, the real aristocracy, is made up of those who add to or improve the sum total of social achievement. Whether this be done in the industrial world or in the realms of morals and religion, of art, science or philosophy, he who improves the conditions of social life, who adds to the happiness of his fellows, who builds up the material and spiritual capacity of the race, is to the extent of his achievement a member of the aristocracy of civilization. There are many, to be sure, who for special reasons cannot count them- selves among the great. Yet as long as they turn their faces toward the light and struggle manfully to impart to their children wiser and better training than they themselves had, they form that sturdy stock from which in later generations society will constantly recruit the ranks of the coming nobility. 1 At the bottom of the scale are the social parasites for whom improvement or extermination must be the alternatives. No society can afford permanently to support a mass of idlers made up of the unemployed rich, those engaged in useless occupations, and the commonplace tramp, criminal and pauper. Much of this idleness is due to defective social arrangements in respect to inheritance, industry and education. But 1 See H. G. Wells, "A Modern Utopia," and note how he works out this thought in his "Order of the Samuri." THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 183 unquestionably one of the first fruits of the develop- ment of a higher culture must be the gradual elimina- tion of all forms of social parasitism, so as to have those only enjoy the blessings of civilization who con- tribute their share toward the upbuilding of all that makes life worth living. PART TWO APPLICATIONS OF SOCIOLOGICAL TEACHING TO SOME SOCIAL PROBLEMS CHAPTER IX SOCIAL PROGRESS From the sociological standpoint there can be no question of the solid utility of social investigations. The strug- ® n a ^ s ^ es men are busily engaged in at- gie for tempts to understand the causes of social discontent and suffering. Social, sympa- thetic and altruistic feelings have become so strong in recent generations, that men cry out in protest against present conditions, forgetting that pain and suffering are the normal experiences of sentient life. When nature seems kindly and bountiful, men forget that underneath the smile it is "red in tooth and claw." The natural end of an animal is starvation or a violent death. Nature is entirely too prodigal in her offspring, and regularly brings into existence far more than can possibly survive. The weaker, and the strong that fail to secure a favorable environment, disappear in the struggle for survival, and -the survivors live only as they pursue an endless search for food, and ruthlessly carry on a war of exploitation and extermination. 1 This is true also of human kind. Under natural law the larger proportion of human beings should perish before maturity through starvation, disease and 1 See, for illustrations, Ward's "Psychic Factors," Chapter XXXIII. 187 188 SOCIOLOGY slaughter. Few of the mature should reach old age, for in a righting stage there are not many leaders who "Pain and have " known three generations of men." pleasure Dr. Patten has well characterized such a economy." con( |ition as a "pain economy." Human effort in earlier ages was spent chiefly in vain attempts to ward off misery. Occasionally gleams of pleasure brightened the gloom of fear, but on the whole " few and evil" were the years of life. Outside of the group were savage beasts, hostile men and angry divinities; within were starvation, disease, torturing punishments and a constant dread of danger. The epics and legends, the myths and theologies of earlier ages are filled with a spirit of despair, heightened by a dread of an immor- tality either of torture or of empty existence. 1 Even then salvation was for the noble and learned only; the masses as always in theory .were regularly doomed to destruction. From this standpoint, therefore, one might be tempted to pronounce the present state of humanity, with all of its imperfect social happiness, good by comparison with the natural conditions of ancient civilization. Even taking into consideration the high death rate, the large per cent of infant mor- tality, the prevalence of disease, the starvation, suffer- ing and toil of an unskilled proletariat, one may yet be almost optimistic as he compares these with con- ditions ages ago. Pessimism comes when one takes into account an ideal of perfection. Before us as a 1 See James A. and Vincent A. Fitz Simon, "The Gods of Old"; A. D. Godley, "Socrates and Athenian Life in His Day," Chapter XI; Thomas D. Seymour, "Life in the Homeric Age," Chapter XV. SOCIAL PROGRESS 189 goal is a time when humanity, by a comprehension of nature's law, will be able to compel nature to work for man, not against him. When that time comes nature will prove, beneficent, not malevolent. It will be a "pleasure economy," not a pain economy. Infant mortality and disease will become accidental, not usual; starvation and vice will be abnormal, not normal phe- nomena; and life will become joyous. It is because of this ideal, the product of modern humanitarianism, that men grow indignant over modern social condi- tions and labor feverishly to lighten the burden of the depressed classes, launching lurid tirades against the sins of society, the apathy of the church, the corrup- tion of politicians, the knavery of capitalists, or the demagogism of labor, as though these ancient evils were phenomena unheard of up to our generation! While social investigation is valuable, the very quantity of social agitation sometimes tends to be- Sociai come a handicap to progress. There are reforms as so many reforms to assist, so many appeals panaceas. ^ QJ , fi nanc j a i a jj m humanity's name, that by- their very reiteration men's minds become dulled to the whole social question. They call down a pest on reformers as cranks, and soothe their consciences with the thought that the world has wagged along safely for a few thousand years, and probably will last their day out at least. "After me, the deluge" 1 is still the sentiment of many men. And yet anyone at all familiar with the times must be convinced that in their hearts men are eager for social improvement, 1 Apres moi le deluge. 190 SOCIOLOGY and would welcome a system that would give play to the nobler emotions and ambitions of life, and result in the lessening of human misery. They are simply suspicious, and rightly so, of the numerous panaceas that are warranted to cure all social evils, like so many patent medicines, which, when analyzed, are found to be alcoholic beverages capable of hastening degenera- tion. There is a sense, therefore, in which it might be maintained that our numerous social reforms are doing more harm than good. Persons engaged in them are often so busily occupied with special phases that the situation as a whole is neglected, and waste in time, energy and money becomes inevitable. One would not be rash in saying that the waste through social vices is to a considerable extent duplicated by the waste due to the defective and competing methods of religious, moral and social agencies in reform. Can there not then be found in sociology, if not well- established laws, at least suggestions that will afford a basis for a larger, more inclusive policy, than The utility can ^ f urn ished by experimenting one after of sociology. J r ° the other with the many reforms of the day? Sociology is not so rash as to announce itself with smug complacency as the science already possessed of the knowledge needed to make man wise. All that it can do at present is to take up the problem, indicate the possibilities in the case, and study more and more deeply into the situation so as to be of help in the elimination of evil and in the strengthening of bene- ficial tendencies in society. It is not at all probable that much will be accomplished in a generation or SOCIAL PROGRESS 191 several of them, but even if thousands of years * should be needed for the attainment of a fair degree of social happiness, the consummation will come the sooner by telic purpose, 2 and even a slight acceleration in the rate of progress is worth striving for. One thing, however, is sure, that if society is to continue to make progress it cannot permanently allow to exist the present hin- drances to a better civilization. These hindrances are removable for they are either natural conditions that can largely be remedied by a deeper knowledge of science, or they are defects of the social system, the products of low civilization, and the same human mentality that in ignorance created them can with a deeper insight exterminate them. If society should discover with any exactness how to begin the process of elimination, the inspiration that would in conse- quence arise in the social mind might easily result in a new era, in which a self-conscious society would care- 1 Lester F. Ward estimates that under present cosmic conditions man may expect to find the earth habitable for at least 3,000,000 years longer! In an article on Mars in the Brown (Univ.) Alumni Monthly (March, 1907), he says: " The human race is supposed to have existed between 200,000 and 300,000 years; let us say one quarter of one million years. It has been conscious of its existence only about 10,000 years, and really alive as a psychic being less than 5,000 years. The most that it has accomplished of any value to itself has been done within 2,000 years, and its great work within 200 years. In a word, relatively speaking, man has only just begun to exist. His golden age, as Saint-Simon said, is before him and not behind him. His history is but the threshold of the Psychozoic age. The whole of that immense period lies before him. The conditions of existence 2 A telic purpose implies knowledge of a desired end, and of the means that must be employed in order to attain the end. 192 SOCIOLOGY fully estimate its capacities and would proceed scien- tifically to build up the physique and the mentality of its citizens as the basis of a nobler civilization. There are already indications that the more highly civilized nations are passing into such an era, and the following chapters may serve to make clearer the rea- sons for holding such a view. In Part I attention has been directed to principles that have bearing on this question, and now we shall look at the practical applica- tions of them to the conditions of social life. In this way one may obtain an idea of the social problem as a whole, in its relations to the factors of social life, and a hint or two at least in respect to tentative solutions of several of its aspects. It is the hope of sociology that civilization may cease to be considered static and that it be recognized as dynamic. 1 Static civilization implies that society on this earth are now at their optimum. Abundance of air and water, heat and light, great variety of surface, soil, climate, mineral resources, and all the materials and forces of nature ready to yield to the magic wand of science. There are no indications that these conditions will change in an entire geologic epoch. These favorable conditions are certainly liable to last as long as the Tertiary period just closed has lasted, viz. 3,000,000 years. They may continue . . . 12,000,000 years. And what does a million years mean? . . . For us the Psychozoic age, or any considerable part of it, means eternity. Thus viewed, man's prospects, instead of being dark, are fairly roseate, and the contrast with that old decadent orb [Mars] that is now telling us its story, instead of depressing us, should in- spire us with thankfulness that we are young, with faith in an un- limited future, and with buoyant aspirations for the progress of humanity." 1 Note on pages 67-72 the explanations given to the words static, dynamic, genetic, telic. SOCIAL PROGRESS 193 has already attained its standards of perfection, or has them so clearly in mind that the realization of them seems immediately possible. Such civilization beliefs have been held in the past, as for example in the celestial kingdom of China, and in times of ignorance there may be justification for emphasis on static conditions. It certainly must be a satisfaction to a man to survey in his mind the social in- stitutions and the standards of his country, and to decide that they need no alteration. There is an inevitable craving in every mind for just such a decision; every- one is inclined to think his own family, his religion, his country best, and this self-satisfaction, 'with its resultant inertia, readily favors a static civilization. There really is a justification for such a condition of mind. What has been proven by long experience is at any rate good, and changes are as likely to be bad as beneficial. The mother dreads to see her child start out for himself in life, and apprehensively seeks to retain him under her watchful care. It is easy to sympathize with a religious body that dreads to favor "modernism" in thought, or with a government that hesitates to change its fundamental law, lest in either case the flood gates be swept away and old landmarks obliterated. Nations naturally prefer to surround themselves by Chinese walls, or to point grim cannon at intruders, and to look suspiciously on foreigners and alien institutions that threaten to "break down the bulwarks of our civilization." And yet, notwith- standing, this natural conservatism, social thinkers seem to be agreed that society should be dynamic, 194 SOCIOLOGY and that it, like another Columbus, should push reso- lutely out on unknown waters in the hope of finding a shorter route to Utopia. Yet the experience of nations plainly shows that change involves danger. There is safety in the old, even though glory is lack- ing, and the path of progressive states is marked by national wreck and ruin. It is the static East that survives, and the stirring nations of the West that rise and fall. Yet Tennyson remarked once, "Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay," and apostles of the strenuous life from time immemorial have chosen death in battle in preference to a weak old age. Urged on by the vigor of a combative ances- try, western civilization in its philosophy is definitely committed to the doctrine of progress. In the eighteenth century philosophers of the type of Rousseau 1 inferred that dynamic changes could only be accomplished by eliminating the old movements en tirely ;r and making to order an up-to-date system warranted to satisfy the require- ments of the most exacting Utopian. The French Revolution was a remarkable dynamic movement, and the effects of it which were experienced throughout the entire nineteenth century, showed clearly the possi- bilities inherent in dynamic changes, but argued against any attempt to revolutionize conditions by too hasty measures. Even if society knew absolutely what is the ideal of social reorganization, it would be far 1 See JohnMorley, "Rousseau," and references, p. 44. Also Levy- Bruhl, " History of Modern Philosophy in France," Chapters VII, VIII. SOCIAL PROGRESS 195 wiser to introduce changes gradually but systemat- ically, training men generation after generation to a character suited to the newer civilization. Sociology, therefore, is not in favor of revolutions but argues for a progressive civilization in which changes are made after proper preparation, one step at a time but a step every time. Attention has already been called to the fact that even in static civilization changes do take place, and hence that there is no such thing as static Genetic .... . . contrasted civilization pure and simple, although it may with teiic seem static to any given generation. The movement. . , rate of change, however, may be so slight as to be a negligible factor, and the idea of static civilization is therefore useful and permissible. A dy- namic movement may be genetic or telic, as already explained. If the movement is genetic, the changes seem accidental; they may happen to be either good or bad, and not being consciously caused by society, seem to be beyond its control. For that reason men charge such changes as may be noted to fate, to the will of the gods, to blind chance or the iron law of destiny; they become pessimists in misfortune, optim- ists in prosperity and fatalists at all times. On the other hand societies that adopt telic policies and slowly break away from static standards, may happen to be rash in their choices. Social movement may be for- ward or it may be backward. Even in the East there is a Korea and a Japan; one fallen from its former standards, the other pushing forward from genetic de- velopment to telic progress. 196 SOCIOLOGY In the settlement of the great West a family might wander aimlessly toward the setting sun, following buffalo paths and streams, and finally settle policy where impulse led or obstacles prevented further progress; or, again, it might by in- quiry ascertain in advance a desirable location for a home and the best methods of reaching the site, and then might make suitable preparations for reaching its destination with the proper equipment for farming in the new country. In both cases there is purpose, but in the first it is hazy and genetic, in the other thoughtful and clearfy telic. In the same manner a social group committed to a progressive policy, will more probably attain its purpose by first thoughtfully planning the means of accomplishing it, and then by gradually pushing it through, making modifications in the plan, if such should seem necessary. The devel- opment of governmental policies of this sort is marked. Japan reorganized its government after plans carefully worked out by commissions; Switzerland bases much of its legislation on the reports of experts. Hague Conferences, Pan - American Congresses and Postal Unions illustrate the growing universality of this idea, that group activity must be based on the carefully prepared opinions of expert authorities. This ten- dency is not so evident in those institutions that by nature tend to be static, such as law, medicine, the church and education. In these, precedents, dogma- tism, static authority and vested interests unite to maintain the system and to suppress innovations. The best illustrations of telic progress can be found SOCIAL PROGRESS 197 in economic life and in science, where at present authorities of prestige favor such achievement instead of emphasizing outworn methods and obsolete knowl- edge. The question next arises whether mpdern society, if one assumes that it is definitely identified with a dynamic and telic civilization, has available •«A--!il— sufficient knowledge on which to base a for- for progress. ° ward movement. The answer should un- questionably be affirmative. The immediate need is not the amassing of more information, but rather the larger dissemination of the truths already discovered, and incidentally, investigations as to the best means of applying this knowledge to the varying conditions of social life. This sort of investigation is easily made if only general truths are known, and public opinion demands applications. A suggestion in respect to these general principles can be obtained, strangely enough, from the striking unanimity of Utopian writers. Famous Utopians, from Plato's time on, agree in emphasizing the fundamental necessity of a proper balance between carefully planned schemes of economic and educational reorganization. Rarely does a Utopian in his writings lay much stress on the form of political organization nor on religion nor on the family group nor on the necessity of formal moral teaching as the determining factors in social life. These are regularly assumed to be of importance, but matters that on the whole need small attention, if only fundamentals are carefully worked out. This practical unanimity of Utopian writers is not to be 198 SOCIOLOGY ascribed to a mere imitation of great models. 1 It represents the logical conclusion of a poetic and phil- osophic type of mind becoming prophetic as it tries to see the outcome of the chaos of conflicting interests by which it is surrounded. 2 This conclusion of Utopians seems to be corroborated by the trend of recent sociological writers, who after a careful study of the determining factors TgIic evolution m socia ^ development argue strongly for solutions in which racial, economic and educational factors are emphasized. The great social- istic movement of the day, which is so powerfully affecting the legislation and policies of Europe, is an economic solution, based on the so-called " materialistic interpretation of history" offered by Karl Marx. It is probably neither wise nor expedient to adopt that proposed solution of the social problem; but undoubt- edly some newer economic policy, coupled with a more vigorous educational system, is inevitable. Society should evolve gradually, and it is the part of civic wisdom to keep the movement under telic control; but if barriers are erected in the hope of maintaining permanently existing conditions, the rising tide of 1 The fundamentals incline to follow the educational pattern set by Plato in his "Republic " and " Laws," or the economic system offered by Sir Thomas More. See Richard L. Nettleship, "Lectures on the Republic of Plato," and B. O. Flower, "The Century of Sir Thomas More." 2 Among the most suggestive of modern Utopias should be men- tioned: Bulwer's "The Coming Race," William Morris' "News from Nowhere," Hertzka's "Freeland," Bellamy's "Looking Back- ward" and "Equality," and Sweven's "Limanora, the Island of Progress." SOCIAL PROGRESS 199 discontent will sweep them away by revolution. Telic evolution is far better than revolution, but even revo- lution is to be preferred to repression and stagnation. In the following chapters these fundamental factors will be taken up one by one, so as to note the arguments and conclusions emphasized by students of social progress. CHAPTER X RACIAL FACTORS IN SOCIAL PROGRESS The question as to the origin of man is anthropological, not sociological. Not until mankind had emerged from animal conditions, spread into the natural food origins 1 centers of earth, and developed a group life with its achievement and civilization can sociological investigation begin. Even then the science of ethnology devotes itself to the study of primitive races, so that sociological investigation is pushed still farther away from early conditions. Yet the teachings of these other sciences may include matters of real socio- logical importance, as for instance the question whether mankind is made up of one race the members of which are fundamentally equal, or of many races some inher- ently superior and others inferior. If one disregards the question of human origin, admittedly there are to-day races superior to others in achievement, just as many individuals of ,.g Cia a race surpass others in capacity and attain- ment. The real question, however, is, whether such distinctions are inherent in the stock, or trace- able to the effects of conditions, that if reversed, would within a few centuries reverse the place of higher and lower races. Or, from another standpoint, can the 200 RACIAL FACTORS IN SOCIAL PROGRESS 201 so-called inferior races be developed after a proper period of time to the same degree of attainment as their more fortunate competitors? The trend of the preceding chapters indicates the probable conclusion. In the beginnings of human life and under the deter- mining influences of a tropical or subtropical climate, men must have been relatively equal. 1 To this extent the teaching of the equality of man in the eighteenth century had a solid basis in fact. When, however, through war and migration men wandered into various parts of the earth differences slowly developed. In the more favored places where foods were abundant and population denser, the slow lapse of centuries gave their inhabitants an advantage in physique and mentality, which was strengthened by repeated amal- gamations, minglings of civilizations, and the stimulus of war and economic competition. The great races surviving to-day are those who on the basis of such conditions have fought their way to the front, and who regularly display a strength lacking in the smaller races, which have shunned war by ready submission or by flight to remote regions where they found a wretched but peaceful existence. This difference is not so much physical as psychical. A comparative study of the skull and of the physical structure of the brain seems to show that superior races have a real advantage over others in the size, development and quality of brain, and this certainly 1 Note in Bibliography references under Temple Primer Series and reading lists contained in these. Also J. Deniker, "The Races of Man." 202 SOCIOLOGY should be true, if racial experience counts for anything. For in static civilization these races have built up an economic capacity for patient labor, foresight and sta- bility, and through war and economic competition they have developed individual bravery, energy and self-reliance. They show furthermore in their activi- ties a virility and a capacity for endurance that plainly mark a higher attainment than that made by the aim- less, indolent and hopeless masses of inferior civiliza- tions. Under genetic development these inferior races in their secluded homes may remain stationary for centuries, but whenever they come in contact with a superior race, they are either largely exterminated in war or through inability to adjust themselves to newer conditions, or to withstand the vices and diseases of stronger races. 1 If the superior races should ever recognize an altru- istic obligation to raise the standards of civilization of these backward i stocks, unquestionably much could be accomplished, provided that progress. * ' l the principles of racial development were followed. It is practically impossible, for example, to substitute outright a higher for a lower civiliza- tion. A higher may only be developed from the lower by expediting through telic processes the nat- ural method of growth. This, as already indicated, involves amalgamation, economic stimulus and achieve- ment, and social imitation of the cultural elements of 1 For an excellent sociological study of races, see Wm. Z. Ripley, "The Races of Europe." For an argument against racial amal- gamation, see A. P. Schultz, "Race or Mongrel." RACIAL FACTORS IX SOCIAL PROGRESS 203 a higher civilization. Of these three processes that of amalgamation is probably least, and that of eco- nomic change most necessary. It is useless to press on a race or even a social class a higher cultural civil- ization than that suited to its material attainment. Furthermore, it is a question whether a simple and inferior race can adopt a higher economic system, in place of a lower, except after centuries of training. A race that in its experience lacks the education im- parted by an agricultural civilization, may for example find it well-nigh impossible to pass at a bound from a hunting or nomadic stage to a complex system of trades and manufactures. Add to that the benefit that supposedly arises from repeated racial amalgama- tion, and it is hard to believe that a really simple race, still in primitive conditions, could endure the vigorous strain of modern civilization, except after centuries or at least generations of training and racial mixture. Even if this were done, there is still the probability that the superior races would themselves continue to pro- gress, and might even increase the distance in attain- ment between them and their weaker racial compan- ions. These principles find frequent illustration in mis- sionary enterprise. Christianity is a religion suited to Handicaps a civilization of a high grade, but in order on lower to be successfully propagated among an civilizations. j n f er j or race f a \[ en religion, it must either seek to revolutionize the entire civilization by em- phasis on advantageous economic and educational agencies, or on the other hand it must adapt itself 204 SOCIOLOGY to lower conditions and become a mongrel religion, Christian in form but heathen in spirit. For this reason Mohammedanism and Catholicism, because of their emphasis on form and institutionalising are more successful as proselytizing religions among inferior races than Protestantism, which inclines to be individualistic. When Protestantism makes progress among inferior races, it does so by furnishing in addition to religious teachings the arts of modern industry and the elements of cultural civilization, or else it eliminates intellectual elements as much as possible and emphasizes emo- tionalism. Hence if Protestantism in its missionary activities among low races insists on the adoption of its high standards of ethics and doctrine, progress is slow since few can be persuaded to cut themselves off from their people. Even if successful, it brings in its train, through trade and commerce, contact with an intense civilization, and the influx of newer vices and diseases from this source tends to sap the energy of the native stock, which, failing to reproduce itself, wastes away in a forced civilization. For such reasons it is not possible that the weakest races can perma- nently survive. They will melt away before a civili- zation which is too fierce and competitive for their capacity, but adaptive individuals from them will pre- sumably pass by amalgamation into a superior stock, and become merged in the larger civilization. In addition to these weaker stocks there are many racial groups that represent powerful races beaten in military or economic struggle and yet mentally capable. These unquestionably will become absorbed into the RACIAL FACTORS IN SOCIAL PROGRESS 205 more powerful stocks near them, the ease of the amalgamation being determined by their relative simi- larity in civilization and racial stock. All Racial amal- p j.i j.- e j.i i i gamation °* ^he g rea t nations of the day show this process of amalgamation, from polyglot Austria-Hungary where assimilation is still imperfect, to the British Isles where the process of amalgamation is much further advanced. These great nationalities are themselves at present under the law of competition, but war is ceasing to be a matter of physical prowess, and success lies on the side of effective organization, science and financial capacity. Hence international rivalry is fought out by economic methods, through competing financial systems, through manufacturing and commercial strug- gles for supremacy, and through effectiveness in gov- ernmental organization, war coming in at the end as a sort of coup de grace. The loser in the struggle sinks from its position as a world power, and gradually loses its racial and economic importance. A part of the population may degenerate through impoverishment, others will migrate and become absorbed into other racial stocks, the better classes will restrict the number of their offspring and slowly die out by what Dr. Ross aptly calls "race suicide," * and the race as a whole will sink back in importance and await its fate of ulti- mate absorption into one of the future racial survivors in international competition. A much more important question arises in respect to the few really superior racial stocks in existence, such 1 "Foundations of Sociology," p. 383. 206 SOCIOLOGY as the white, the mongolian and the black. Will these finally amalgamate or will the old genetic proc- ess of racial warfare and extermination The final amaigama- continue on a world scale? Ultimately, the tion of sociological theorist would say, there will be humanity. .. . . but one human race; complete amalgamation will have taken place, even though the process may not be finished for many thousands of years. While this may be finally true, no one can foretell whether that ultimate blend will be predominantly white or black or yellow, or whether one of the strains may not disappear in the process. For survival will not be determined wholly by superiority of civilization. This is of great importance in giving a nation a basis on which it may push to the front and even hold suprem- acy for generations. But civilization is transmittible by social imitation, conscious or unconscious, and under modern conditions the attainment of each nation readily passes to other capable nations who may absorb and utilize effectively the achievements of their rivals, as illustrated in recent Japanese history. The high economic standards of an advanced race may even count against it when in competition with a race of lower economic standards but of similar capacity for achievement. For, in the long run, numbers count in racial competition, and nations of high economic stand- ards tend to have low birth rates and numerically to fall behind. In the final amalgamation of the human race, therefore, it may be possible that the white stock will not survive. By raising its standards of living, and at the same time sharing the achievements of its civiliza- RACIAL FACTORS IN SOCIAL PROGRESS 207 tion with those who will later be its rivals, it may die out in racial stock even while its civilization survives. This process finds illustration in Latin America, where a Romance stock is passing on its civilization to a native stock, but is itself being absorbed by the very races it conquered. England meets the problem in India by endeavoring to transmit its civilization to the native but refusing amalgamation, just as in the United States the whites in the South do not amalgamate with the blacks to any appreciable extent, but yet hand on their civilization. In general it may be said that the Teu- tonic and Slavic stocks hesitate to amalgamate with other racial stocks, such as the negro or the mongolian, or even with the Romance nations of Europe; but that these, on the other hand, amalgamate freely with any race with which they happen to be in contact. A strong stock intuitively strives to perpetuate itself, and hence dreads an excess of racial intermixture. Yet an immense population like that of China, with survival * ts m t ense self-centered civilization, might spread in all directions absorbing numerically weaker stocks, and yet after a few centuries hardly be affected by the admixture of races, even though a large proportion were inferior. In the United States the numerous and aggressive population can readily absorb the remnant of the Indian tribes, a process exemplified to-day in Oklahoma. Nor does it hesitate to amal- gamate with large fragments of Germanic and Celtic stock, kindred in blood, trusting to the passing of cen- turies to obliterate minor distinctions. Doubt comes when the process involves an amalgamation with millions 208 SOCIOLOGY of similar stock, Romance and Slavic, but of dissimilar civilization. This doubt becomes a serious protest at the thought of amalgamating with millions of lower stock and lower civilizations, as in the case of the negro, or when there threatens an influx of a numerous and powerful rival racial stock, as, for instance, from Asia. These doubts, well founded in racial instinct, are fortified by reason. A powerful racial stock makes Evils in no mistake in amalgamating with a similar amaigama- stock of similar cultural development; the re- tlon ' sultant is regularly better than the component parts. Even if the smaller is absorbed by the larger, there is compensation for the loss of racial distinction in the gain in individual capacity. If, however, higher and lower races are artificially united under the forms of a common civilization the consequences are both good and bad. The lower will inevitably become "hewers of wood and drawers of water" for the higher, i. e. they will do the unskilled and tiresome labor of the community; their weaker members will fall into vice, crime and pau- perism under the stress of a low economic life, while the stronger part of the stock will be stimulated by contact with the higher civilization, and will move up in the social scale, ultimately amalgamating with their su- periors. Under such conditions oftentimes the weaker members of the higher stock, brought into competition with the better members of the lower stock, degenerate. Others, seeing about them members of an alien and lower class, under the influence of a class morality, exploit them economically, or gratify sexual passion by immoral re- RACIAL FACTORS IN SOCIAL PROGRESS 209 lations with women of the lower stock, thereby lowering the ethical standards of their own race. The better members of the higher stock, finding competition keener and more unscrupulous than formerly, tend to develop for self-protection a class exclusiveness, and under the conditions, by a natural process not clearly understood, each generation produces fewer and weaker children until as a class they disappear. This is the natural and genetic process, easily traceable in social history, and on the whole disastrous to social welfare and race survival. 1 For it means that the better elements in a stock die out, their ranks are recruited from below, class distinctions become inevitable, and at the bottom of the social sys- tem is a mass of unskilled workers, largely alien in stock, with the misery inevitable in that low economic stage of existence. Whatever advantage may come from the wealth produced by those of lower standards, is probably more than offset by the introduction of the depressed standards of the other economic classes and the dimin- ished fertility of the dominant stock. It is probable that if the intruding stock were similar in race but inferior in civilization, the evils could be American largely eliminated by wise telic action. If, racial for example, the United States of America re- pro ems. gtricted the privilege of immigration to as- similable stocks, healthy and moral, and if these were guided to sections of the country in need of their services, and surrounded by social agencies aiming to impart to them the language and ideals of American civilization, safeguarding them against exploitation and 1 Note Casper L. Redfield, "Control of Heredity." 210 SOCIOLOGY temptations to immorality and crime until they had become used to American standards, unquestionably the chief evils of the present system would be minimized, and social and racial amalgamation rendered easy. It is suicidal, however, to admit a race unless racial amal- gamation is to follow in connection with an assimilation of civilizations. Under present conditions, however, the racial problem within the United States is exceedingly complex and one may well despair of any immediate solution. . ec JL°. Had telic foresight characterized our civili- lmmigration. ° zation throughout the nineteenth century we might have avoided our worst problems by checking the importation and multiplication of the negro, and by re- ducing to a minimum the immigration of races of lower civilization, as was done in fact with immigration from Asia. 1 Failing in such a policy, we have a natural genetic development: the higher native racial stock commits "race suicide" by late marriages followed by the birth of few or no children. Others amalgamate with the better elements of the immigrant races, thus causing a racial modification, and at the bottom of the scale are those who are unable to maintain their stand- ards of living in competition with immigrants of lower standards. This degenerate native stock falls into the ranks of the unskilled proletariat made up largely of alien races, from which arises, through low economic 1 On immigration, see John R. Commons, "Races and Immi- grants in America." For recent books on the negro problem, see Alfred H. Stone, "Studies in the American Race Problem," and Kelly Miller, "Race Adjustment." RACIAL FACTORS IN SOCIAL PROGRESS 211 conditions, much of the pauperism, vice and crime of our civilization. These lower races, rapidly multiplying and recruited by continuous additions from southern Europe and western Asia, will under present conditions inevitably strengthen present tendencies. Race suicide will press down lower and lower into the middle class; amalgamation below this will multiply as propinquity destroys racial prejudice; the evils involved in a toiling proletariat will become too great for real amelioration; and European conditions of an inert, ignorant lowest class will be reproduced in the United States. It is the natural development under genetic conditions, and un- avoidable except by telic policy. The evils in our present genetic system can plainly be seen in the development of a rapidly multiplying slum and crowded tenement population, and a social system that encourages an unskilled laborer to marry at twenty, but that, on the other, hand, compels its socially better classes to postpone marriage until middle life or to re- main celibate. The mathematical outcome of any such system plainly is the elimination of the higher in favor of the lower. This condition illustrates the law that human progress is difficult but a dull average easy of attainment. The body is more readily strengthened than the brain, though by contrast the higher may degenerate much more rapidly than the lower. If society, there- fore, ever hopes to carry forward a telic policy, it must begin by safeguarding those who have best developed their brain capacity, and must then seek to eliminate those classes that represent the weaker elements of society. 212 SOCIOLOGY There are many suggestions as to the possibility of averting these threatening dangers. A favorite propo- sition even yet is that made by Plato in his Social solutions "Republic" and "Laws." It assumes that for racial th e laws of heredity are so little known that society is unable to assert dogmatic conclu- sions in respect to the production of a superior stock. Meanwhile, therefore, society should assume that all persons potentially are capable of high development, and should be given through wise education an oppor- tunity for it. Then, when the quality of its various members is manifest, society should endeavor to build up its stock from the capable and to place handicaps on the weaker members of society, so as to prevent them, if possible, from propagating their kind. 1 Another solution is that suggested in recent years by Francis Galton under the name of Eugenics. 2 In brief, his theory is that careful study should be Eugenics. made of the conditions and principles under- lying the production of a vigorous racial stock, that this information be taught as widely as possible, emphasized as a part of the morality of religion, and enforced by a powerful public opinion, The effect of all this, it is 1 Note, for illustrations of studies in racial progress, W. Duncan McKim, "Heredity and Human Progress," and Eugene S. Talbot, "Degeneracy, Its Causes, Signs, and Results." 2 The original papers on Eugenics by Francis Galton, and the dis- cussion of them, may be found in the Sociological Papers, published by the English Sociological Society, 1904, 1905. The American Journal of Sociology in July, 1904, 1905, reproduced the articles and parts of the discussion. Since 1905 numerous articles on the subject have appeared in the magazines. RACIAL FACTORS IN SOCIAL PROGRESS 213 argued, would be the elimination of the weaker stock, and the upbuilding of the race through its stronger elements. The argument is a sound one, but it might prove weak in practice if it should develop into a theory of propagation through a leisure class chiefly, or base its conclusions on biological principles, to the exclusion of a study of the economic conditions that so powerfully affect racial development. In both of these theories there is an assumption that society has the right, for its own sake, to fix the con- ditions of reproduction through law and public Social racial • • o 1 r c i_ 1 safeguards °P imon - kucn a policy ot course has been practised by individual families, by castes, and classes of nobility, in regulating the marriage of their own members. If a national group as a whole should ever adopt such a policy, it would be a re- markable illustration of a collective telic policy arising out of social necessity. Under such a policy no indi- vidual would have an inherent right, as at present, to foist on society weakling offspring. Society would have the right to insist that no one should become a parent unless he were sound in body and mind; that no un- assimilable alien elements be allowed to settle within the country; and that proper measures be taken to eliminate scientifically the weaker part of the racial stock. Gal ton's is only one theory of scientific elimina- tion; students of penology and charity also offer sug- gestions in respect to the treatment and segregation of criminals, defectives, and the pauperized. Economists emphasize as a powerful factor in elimination a higher standard of living for the lower economic classes; and 214 SOCIOLOGY legislators already have placed on statute books pro- hibitions of marriage for defective or diseased persons. Furthermore on the assumption that the celibacy of the best racial stock is detrimental to social interests, society hereafter should discountenance sys- continuance tems of occupation that necessitate celibacy or late marriage, such, for example, as long enlistments in the army or navy, a celibate class of women teachers, and celibacy among the clergy and members of religious orders. Society also should see to it that economic and cultural conditions be so read- justed that the higher social classes would tend to increase their productivity. Such a policy is theo- retically possible, but demands more scientific fore- sight than can ordinarily be found in our legislative halls. When science has learned how to fortify the body against disease, how to modify the evil effects of climatic conditions, and how to build up economic and intellectual capacity, an attainment already in sight, it will seem but a step to the formulation of a policy aiming to build up the human race as a whole by emphasis on those factors in heredity and environ- ment favorable to the productivity of the stronger and better elements. CHAPTER XI ECONOMIC FACTORS IN SOCIAL PROGRESS Several references have already been made to the theory that physical and economic conditions largely determine social development. This theory plays so important a part in sociological discussion that closer consideration must be given it. Attention will there- fore be called first to the effect of natural physical conditions in the environment, and then to the effect of artificial modifications of these, and of all sorts of economic achievements. (1) It is obvious that if man had made few or no achievements, and was consequently in the earliest stage of his existence, he would be, to all Influence of & ' ' . physical intents and purposes, determined by his environ- physical environment. Depending as he must on what nature spontaneously supplies, it would be of vital importance to his welfare that he be under kindly skies and on fertile soil, abundantly watered and teeming with vegetal and animal life suitable for foods. Under such conditions he would grow physically strong and develop energy in abun- dance. ' If, however, physical conditions are inimical, so that there is an excess of heat or cold, or a lack of suf- ficient nutriment, the development of his mind and body would be dwarfed in consequence. He would be 215 216 SOCIOLOGY either enervated or stunted by the extremes of tem- perature, or blunted by hardships. In the same way he would be deeply affected by the kind of food, whether flesh or vegetal, that regularly made up his diet, 1 by the relative density and humidity of the air he breathed, and by the seasonal variations in the tem- perature of his habitat. In other words, man under such conditions is determined by his physical environ- ment: his range is limited, he must stay where food is abundant, and his bodily strength and crude men- tality are deeply affected by the quantity and quality of his food and the variations of climate. Even yet no one is prepared to deny that soil, climate, food and the kind of air breathed into the lungs still powerfully affect human activity. All one can say is that they are not relatively so important in advanced civilization. They influence but do not determine human develop- ment. (2) The reason why physical environment is rela- tively less influential in higher civilization is that man by his achievements has to an extent become Modifica- , . tions through able to master and modify nature. If he is human no f; satisfied with his physical environment, he may by utilizing natural forces be easily transferred to another climate; or he may by his inventions modify somewhat the effects on him of the temperature, humidity or density of his climate; he may use chemical agencies to make fertile infertile soil; multiply vegetal and flesh foods by agriculture, stock 1 See R. Russell, "Strength and Diet," a practical treatise with special regard to the life of nations. ECONOMIC FACTORS IN SOCIAL PROGRESS 217 raising, and by the preservation of game and fish; he ma}' level hills, fill valleys, drain marshes, build roads and canals, plant forests or cut them down, and make or import stone and metal if his home soil fails to yield these in sufficient quantities. Thus he saves his own muscular energy by utilizing natural power, so abun- dant around him; and to the extent to which he trans- forms his environment he is not determined by it. Yet, after all, these modifications have not annihilated phys- ical forces; they have simply compelled them to mani- fest their powers in slightly different directions. En- vironment is still environment, though made partly artificial through human agency, and when man has done all he can, he is still determined by it, not, how- ever, in its natural form but as modified by human intellect. In other words, though civilized man can to some extent determine the kind of physical and economic environment in which he is to live, when the choice has been made, his physical and economic activities are still determined by his environment almost to the same extent as those of his primitive ancestor. A conclusion to be drawn from this principle is clear; if society is to keep on progressing from primitive con- Progress ditions to higher civilization, either nature dependent must itself furnish constantly bettering phys- ° n to*? S * ca ^ con ditions, which is improbable, or man natural must continue to increase in power to con- forces. ^. ro j na t ura j conditions. If he should ever attain such power over nature as to make possible for all persons freedom from economic struggle, the ideal 218 SOCIOLOGY condition for cultural achievement will be reached. For no national or racial group as a whole can hope under present conditions to attain the fruits of a high civilization. Those within the group who have secured economic freedom may attain them, and those next below in the economic scale may approximate to a similar attainment, but those who live from hand to mouth and depend for existence on strenuous and benumbing toil are barred out of the possibility of high attainment, since their lives are determined by economic conditions beyond their control. The hope of higher civilization for the entire group lies in the possibility that it may be able to understand natural law so effectively as to counteract the struggle for existence by making the economic conditions of life comparatively easy for all the members of the group; in other words, the conditions of economic toil among the proletariat must be vastly bettered before it will become possible for them to attain a high civilization. In the following pages an attempt will be made to show the social problems arising from such considera- tions in their relations to the principles Possibilities . ' . x * of further involved. Detailed solutions would 01 course modifica- be utopian, and all that can now be given is a suggestion as to the direction of future progress. The purely cosmical conditions of nature are practically beyond human control. The earth is a mere speck in the universe and in all probability man can never hope to affect its cosmic conditions. The earth's atmosphere, the sun's rays, the relative proportion of land and water, the chemical elements of matter and ECONOMIC FACTORS IN SOCIAL PROGRESS 219 cosmic energy, all these and similar phenomena he may seek to understand and to utilize, but never to modify fundamentally. Whatever utilization of them he may make is, however, of the utmost importance, for through such use he passes from abject subjection to physical conditions, to a stage in which he can partly under- stand and manipulate his environment. For this reason the fundamental problem before society is to multiply in every possible way scientific knowledge of natural laws and the ability to apply this to the concrete conditions of life. The greatest benefactors in society are its Newtons, its Darwins and its great inven- tors. We must know how to utilize the forces of nature and how to work up nature's materials into creative forms of utility. We must learn how to get more and better foods from the soil and the sea, and through science and engineering how better to make use of those parts of the world hardly yet touched, viz. the tropics, the great deserts and marshy lands. One may look forward in imagination to the time when the great rivers of the earth will be banked in by levees, their currents used for power, the silt from the waters care- fully returned to the soil, the restless sands of the deserts held in check by vegetation and supporting a dense human population, and the tropics cultivated into garden spots abounding in foods and freed from disease by scientific knowledge. Possibly rocky soils may yet be pulverized into fertile earth, or the lands and minerals of the frigid zones be brought into use by greater knowledge of climatic and atmospheric conditions; the world's store of metals may become 220 SOCIOLOGY completely known and possibly be transfused from one to the other at will through later chemical discoveries. The flora and fauna of land and water may be made over by future Burbanks into species most useful and beautiful for mankind, and human beings themselves, freed from hunger and toil, may develop a physique and a mentality suited to such lords of creation. These dreams are all scientifically possible, and the attain- ment of some of them need not wait for the passing of many centuries. At any rate these for many genera- tions to come will be the fundamental problems of society, for society as a whole must understand nature's laws, and be able to utilize its resources. Evidently the problem of such development cannot be left merely to private initiative. Society itself must „ ,.„ become telic and plan out its activity, as is Modifica- L J ' tions even now partially the case. Many states through already are beginning to foster science; they til 6 StutP are planning great engineering feats such as transcontinental railroads, Suez and Panama canals, reclamation service in irrigation, encouraging inventions by patent laws, and scientific discoveries by honors and rewards. It is evident that the nation that adopts such a policy most wisely and most thoroughly is build- ing its prosperity on sure foundations. It is real econ- omy to spend money on scientific investigation even when there is no apparent tangible return. The cost of a battleship, for instance, if expended on scientific investigation in respect to improvement in war mate- rial would give far greater returns in national martial ability. Science and human ingenuity, if properly ECONOMIC FACTORS IN SOCIAL PROGRESS 221 stimulated, could probably develop destructive imple- ments of such power as to banish henceforth the possi- bility of war, for wars will more likely cease because of their destructiveness and cost than because of an altruistic objection to human slaughter. In addition to the development of science and inven- tion, society must also devise wiser systems for the Regulation regulation of economic interests. This, next of economic to national preservation, is historically the interests. c hj e f business of the state. The principles to be observed in social regulation have already been indicated. It is to be assumed that citizens can un- derstand that they best serve their own truest in- terests while serving the interests of the state; and legislation should seek to make real this identity of in- terests. Wise regulation and stimulus to right action are far better than prohibitions. Laws should not be passed against capital as such, or against trusts or cor- porations or labor unions or strikes or saloons even, but rather the causes and conditions under which these have come into existence must be understood, and known evils eliminated. Objectionable institutions, such as, for example, the saloon, should be dispensed with by substitution of alternatives, or by modifying the con- ditions of their existence so as to render them less harm- ful, or by wiser education of younger generations to render them unnecessary. Except for temporary pur- poses it is socially useless to prohibit anything. Scientific elimination and training are the real remedies for social evils. Recalcitrant members of society might better be permanently segregated, if they cannot be trained 222 SOCIOLOGY and made responsive to the power of an intelligent pub- lic opinion. Men will always pursue their own interests and should be encouraged to do so by social stimuli. But individual interests will harmonize with social aims if society is intelligently guided, and this should be shown by wisdom in legislation and education. If in- dividuals fight against social standards it is safer to assume that the standards are defective than to predi- cate the wickedness of the individual and the perfection of law. If society should adopt this point of view it would be ever seeking to improve social machinery so as to reduce social friction and waste to a minimum. All public regulation of economic interests should be in accord with expert advice, and should aim always to stimulate, not repress, social energy, and to guide it if necessary into socially useful directions. Naturally in connection with such a policy, there would be need of efficient governmental machinery. It improve- probably makes small difference whether the ment in- form of government is monarchic, aristo- government. cra ^ c 0Y democratic. As long as economic wealth and cultural education are the privileges of a small per cent of the population, these will in any case govern. As the modern movement, however, is un- doubtedly toward democracy, a governmental system should be so arranged as to allow changes in that direc- tion. Rigidity in law, constitutions or governmental machinery is prima facie detrimental in dynamic civili- zation. Improvements in governmental methods should constantly be devised and tested by experiment. The United States of America, for example, with its forty-six ECONOMIC FACTORS IN SOCIAL PROGRESS 223 state legislatures, its national congress and its innumer- able local lawmaking bodies, is one vast laboratory for governmental experimentation. Now and then, in the mass of useless legislation, appears a law of real value, and such successful experiments should be studied and adopted generally, with suitable modifications, until a still better arises. The rise of a legislative reference bureau organized so as to furnish expert information to legislatures, or of the commission on uniform legislation, as well as the frequent use of technical commissions for the purpose of recommending legislation, are excellent illustrations of the movement toward a scientific govern- ment. The politician must give way to the statesman, who must be far wiser in general knowledge than is his forerunner of to-day. Lacking such changes in govern- mental machinery, efficient regulation of economic in- terests is well-nigh impossible, so that one chief advan- tage in democratic forms is not that they produce better government, which is hardly true at the present time, as that they make up a flexible system ready for the rapidly approaching time when there will be a demand for more wisdom in legislation, as the result of a distinct social consciousness of the necessity of telic prevision in national policy. If now we assume that the development of economic achievements by wise governmental regulation should Economic be a fundamental activity of society, we must achieve- discover the best means of preserving and in- creasing the economic achievements of the race. In such a consideration the means employed under genetic development should briefly be indicated 224 SOCIOLOGY and then the changes involved, as telic ideas affect the situation. The first achievements in the economic field consisted in the invention of tools and in methods of hunting and securing food. Later came knowledge of the making of ornaments, clothing, houses and implements for cooking and other domestic economy. The natural and genetic method of preserving the knowledge of these achieve- ments was by practical instruction in the group given through the elders to the younger generation. This education through social imitation, to some extent was given in play and games, which reproduced the general activities of the group, 1 the knowledge of the group thus readily becoming common property. An important change came through the natural differentiation of labor based on distinctions of sex, skill and class. The voca- tions of men and women became distinct; certain fami- lies or groups acquired and devoted their skill in a par- ticular direction; the higher castes and classes entered only special occupations, leaving as always in early civilization manual toil, the industries and trade to the lower classes. 2 Still later, specialized industrial groups became gilds, which regulated their own membership, methods of work, and output, and carefully guarded the secret processes involved in their trades. In all of this development, any given occupation safeguarded its own economic achievements, the elders or masters within it handing down instruction. The natural effect of this 1 Note in Bibliography under name of Karl Groos. 2 Note R. T. Ely, "Evolution of Industrial Society," and Carl Biicher, "Industrial Evolution." ECONOMIC FACTORS IN SOCIAL PROGRESS 225 system is that specialized occupations tend to become monopolies, each carefully guarding its secrets by a full regulation of membership and instruction. The utility of this system for a static civilization is clear. Routine tasks arc performed in accordance with immemorial custom generation after generation. Specialized occu- pations are dominated by the elders, who by their con- trol of trade secrets dictate terms to the younger men, compel adherence to set standards, and forbid inno- vations. As dynamic changes in economic conditions developed one by one, they necessitated telic changes in economic Changes in institutions. These were regularly initiated economic by individuals, who, pursuing their own in- mstitutions. Crests, forced themselves into the sacred circle of specialized occupations, gradually wrested trade secrets from the gilds, secured from the gov- ernment special privileges, and introduced innovations. These changes when translated into social demands be- come: free competition for the right to take part in any economic occupation, opposition to any form of private economic monopoly, and freedom to introduce modifications into the economic system. As these rights are won, government, the agent of society, guar- anties them by law but finds it hard to fulfill its pledges, for society naturally tends to become static even in a dynamic civilization; and economic combinations tend to acquire monopolies and to resist innovations whenever possible. The telic office of a dynamic society, there- fore, is to move always in the direction of freedom of occupation and away from monopolies of any sort 226 SOCIOLOGY whatsoever. 1 Even governmental monopolies may be dangerous, for if government itself be monopolized by a class, there may develop a system of class exploitation. Illustrations of economic changes are naturally common in these days of a transitional civilization so largely dynamic, as, for example, the movement of women into economic occupations, attempts of trade unions to regulate instruction in their occupations and occa- sionally to restrict membership on lines of sex or race, and capitalistic attempts to monopolize great industries, patents, franchises or the necessities of life or business. The discussion of these details is, of course, the preroga- tive of the economist, and our attention may be con- centrated on the purely educational aspects of the matter. The two chief historic functions of the state, as al- ready explained, have been war and the regulation of illustrations economic activities, and society's best col- of economic lective work has been done in these political regulation. d e p ar tments. A social or a governmental policy, it will be remembered, tends to pass through three well-marked stages: prohibitive, regulative, and approbative or constructive. In western civilization the individualistic teachings of Adam Smith and his successors removed from statute books and from cus- tom many of the most obnoxious prohibitions on in- dividual freedom, approving thereby a policy which allowed citizens and even aliens great freedom in the 1 For some interesting economic discussions of this sort, see George L. Bolen, "Getting a Living," and John Graham Brooks, "Social Unrest." References to the several aspects of the labor problem may be found in R. H. Edwards' "Studies in American Social Con- ditions," Pamphlet No. 4. ECONOMIC FACTORS IN SOCIAL PROGRESS 227 pursuit of industrial gain. As illustrations of wise economic regulation may be mentioned the patent sys- tem, and a tariff for the stimulation of infant industries. The patent system of the United States in its inception was really the work of genius. Back of it there are two demands: first, that persons be induced to make material achievements by invention, and second, that they be persuaded to make their discoveries public. These objects were accomplished by making it possible for any person at small expense and loss of time to patent his invention, thereby receiving a national guaranty that he might monopolize it for purposes of manufacture and sale for a definite period of years. As patents are on record, at the expiration of the set time the invention becomes public property. This system encouraged in- ventiveness, discouraged the older notion of retaining the invention as a secret, and provided that all such achievements automatically become public possessions. The results give ample testimony to the wisdom of legislation which takes into account human nature and stimulates its activity by reward. Such an illustration of wise legislation suggests that society is becoming strongly telic and constructive in its economic sphere. Certainly the best a tehc sug- thons;li.t and keenest energy of statesmen gestion. ° ... have been expended in that direction, and much may be expected within the next few years. As new achievements in science and invention are the essentials for wider economic success, much could prob- ably be done by a more vigorous emphasis on scientific studies, by multiplying laboratories for research; by 228 SOCIOLOGY teaching in the schools the principles underlying inven- tion so as to stimulate inventive minds to activity; and by devising, if possible, a method whereby inven- tions might at once become public, in place of author- izing a temporary monopoly. For, at present, inventors seldom reap due rewards, their inventions are secured by keen business men with greater facilities for manu- facture and sale, who by well-known devices manage to monopolize the essential patents of an industry, thereby exploiting the public for private gain for long periods of years. If society itself could immediately gain the benefits of an invention by bestowing directly on the inventor a suitable reward, the social benefits would be large. In science professional pride is now set against secrecy and pecuniary reward for scientific discoveries, and added reputation is considered full compensation for mental toil. It may be that in eco- nomic life also, renown, and recognition by some hon- orable society, may later be deemed ample reward for a great invention, and that inventors will as freely give to the public their inventions as scientists now proclaim their discoveries. Meanwhile a nation may well prepare for such an age by constructively seeking to develop to the utmost the economic and inventive capacity of the people, by stimulating mental activity and by wise education. The constructive aspect of social activity, so far as it affects economic conditions, can also be seen in the social encouragement of industrial education. As long as economic knowledge is simple, and competition is chiefly domestic, a nation may with comparative ECONOMIC FACTORS IN SOCIAL PROGRESS 229 safety leave instruction to private initiative, either that of the individual or of a social group. If an Education individual desires to enter a certain occu- for economic pation he will strive to learn the business; if a group desires to attract members into its occupation it will offer instruction as an inducement. As complexity in knowledge develops, private initiative in the same way will develop schools, specialized so as to meet the demands of the economic world, and these will give instruction in the technique of the occupation in demand. In this way there arise private schools for the professions, for commerce and manufactures, and for the skilled trades. As the social importance of these becomes clearer, a demand arises that the state recognize their utility The state's ^y assisting them. The state therefore begins share in this to assume a constructive attitude toward e ucation. guc j 1 ec | uca ti n. If the profits of the school are devoted not to private gain but to educational purposes the state may grant exemption from tax- ation as an encouragement in social service — which is virtually a public grant for economic education. Or again, the state may contribute directly toward the expense of such education, reserving sometimes the right to supervise the management of the school. As competition becomes foreign, as well as domestic, and economic matters increasingly complex and scientific, private enterprise for lack of endowment fails to give satisfactory instruction for small tuitional fees. In consequence there comes an insistent demand that the state itself take charge of such education. If trade- 230 SOCIOLOGY unions are powerful and opposed to technical instruc- tion by the state, the path of least resistance is for the state to assume the support of professional and highly technical schools, and of instruction in the broader economic fields not dominated by the unions, such fields, e. g. as agriculture and commerce. The first stage therefore in this movement is the promotion of professional, commercial, engineering and agricultural training schools. The next step is to give generalized instruction in the use of tools, and special instruction in certain aspects of the higher trades involving draw- ing and design — the artistic industries. Finally special instruction in the trades themselves may be given, first in the form of lectures to workingmen on the higher aspects of the trade, and then distinct instruction to the young in the trade itself, as the opposition of trade- unionism dies away. Another development arises when the government organizes a department especially devoted to the promotion of economic interests. This may serve as a clearing house for information bearing on trade and commerce, supplying knowledge of market demands, 1 and may act as an agent for economic inter- ests in voicing their demands for legislation. Again, these departments, or perhaps the technical schools, may make scientific investigations so as to assist eco- nomic interests by expert advice. 1 See, for illustrations, American consular reports. CHAPTER XII THE RELATION OF CULTURAL TO MATERIAL CIVILIZATION If it be true that cultural civilization depends for its growth on material civilization, 1 it is an added argument why society should pay especial attention to The ma- , , , f « terial as a the development oi an excellent economic basis for the system based on science and invention. The truth of this theory is perhaps not immedi- ately obvious, especially to those who have been taught to look with contempt on economic struggle, or to those whose ideal is one of "plain living and high thinking." The doctrine of the simple life is an individualistic teach- ing, inapplicable to society as a whole. The Emersons and Thoreaus, the Tolstois and Wagners may develop culturally under this regime, stimulated as they are by the intense and complex civilization around them. But if these philosophers were to persuade all men to live the simple life and to neglect economic achievement, the culture of the group would inevitably become as simple as the contents of their larders. For if a social group is living under low economic conditions, vigorous bodily and mental capacity become well-nigh impos- sible. A half-starved body necessitates a mind concen- trated solely on food getting. Culture and the higher life have no large part in such civilization. Spiritual 1 See pages G2, 63. 231 232 SOCIOLOGY and esthetic joys and high moral standards have no meaning to a group whose only ambition is to satisfy the cravings of hunger and to rest from unremitting toil. This is as true in high civilization as in lowest civiliza- tion, since even there the elite are counterbalanced by the "submerged tenth" and by the other two-tenths that are in constant danger of pauperism. These low economic groups are practically determined by their economic environment, and as a class can not while under such conditions by any possibility develop high culture or mental capacity. 1 If, however, the rigors of the situation are somewhat mitigated, so that there are occasional periods of abund- ant food supply and stimulating economic Conditions ^ r J ° favorable to conditions, group mentality, released from a leisure ^he strain of the struggle for daily food, can, with the expansion of its dormant capacities, make cultural achievements. If, as a third illustration, the group became a leisure class, released from the strain of economic competition and able largely to determine its own immediate physical and economic environment, obviously the probability of cultural and psychical de- velopment would increase proportionately. For while unquestionably many would under such conditions sink into degradation through idleness and dissipation, others would make use of their opportunity to devote their energies to cultural achievement. 'For studies of English poverty, see Charles Booth, "Life and Labour of the People of London," a monumental work in seventeen volumes; B. S. Rowntree, "Poverty, A Study of Town [York] Life," and Richard Free, "Seven Years Hard" (in East End, London). CULTURAL AM) MATERIAL CIVILIZATION 233 On the other hand, if a leisure class through war or other disaster sank back in the economic scale to the extreme of penury, a generation or two would sec the loss of its high attainment, and a return to the groveling standards of the rudest group life. One may therefore assert that a group subjected to a wretched physical environment is determined by it and has no possibility, under the conditions, of developing either higher economic or cultural civilization. If, how- ever, physical environment improves the bettered con- dition of the group allows the possibility of economic and cultural achievement. Favorable physical con- ditions and development in economic and cultural capac- ity would give probability of increasingly higher eco- nomic and cultural development, so that the plane of civilization rises as the planes of physical, economic and cultural conditions rise. It must of course be kept in mind that these state- ments apply to groups as such, not to every individual , . in them. A depressed group will have a low The relation l o i of the group cultural attainment, even though, through to the variation in heredity or accidental education, there be an occasional individual who rises above the attainment of the group. So likewise a leisure class has opportunity to develop high culture, although individuals of it neglect the opportunities afforded them, and fall in attainment far below the ex- ceptional individuals from the lowest classes. The failure of a person to take advantage of his opportunities for cultural attainment may be due to a lack of a family tradition of culture, to the depressing influence of vulgar 234 SOCIOLOGY or depraved companionship, or to t"he ease of acquiring bodily pleasures compared with the difficulty of cul- tivating higher emotions. The physical is suited to natural instinct, the cultural is the product of idealism and intellectual choice, hence in culture as in cultural religion "many are called but few are chosen." Or, again, individuals within a group in the amassing of wealth, so far from gaining culture may lose what little cultural attainment they possessed. Nevertheless, their economic achievements still remain in the possession of the community ; their legatees, or society as a whole, reap the benefit of their labors, and somewhere at least there is the enjoyment of higher culture through their exertions. The theory, furthermore, does not assert that if national economic conditions are favorable, cultural Class dis- civilization for the entire national group is tactions in inevitable. It merely asserts that national culture. conditions will be favorable for cultural de- velopment. If, however, the national group is divided into castes or classes, one of which monopolizes the advantages derived from favorable economic condi- tions, that class has the opportunity for cultural de- velopment but not the others. Each of these tends to develop its own degree of cultural attainment whether high or low. If caste distinctions are maintained by law and custom, each class will retain its own culture without mixture. If, however, there is no such sep- aration, and the classes meet in some of the relation- ships of social life, there will be a superficial mingling of cultures, which, however, will never be complete as long as economic differences remain. Thus house serv- CULTURAL AND MATERIAL CIVILIZATION 235 ants or slaves readily absorb by social imitation some of the culture and manners of their masters, and these in their turn, cared for as children by their social inferiors, imbibe coarser traits. In some such manner the courtesy of medieval chivalry passed to Romance peasantry, as may still be seen in the natural polite- ness and dignity of the lower economic classes in France or Spain. On the other hand, it should not be assumed that all the members of a group are necessarily on a par. The growth ^ § ocs without saying that some are more of talent and talented than others. In any group there genms. w jjj k e g enmses anc j men f capacity, and others again who are ordinary or even below the average in mentality. The laws of heredity are not yet so clearly understood as to enable society to declare dogmatically in what part of its membership genius and talent may be expected to develop. That knowledge may possibly come through biological and psychological investigations in later generations. Mean- while it is safe to assume that greatness under proper conditions may be expected from the lower as well as from the higher social classes. Society must therefore see to it that the benefits resulting from economic achievement be as widely distributed as possible. Under genetic civilization they readily become the monopoly of a few, but under telic civilization society would make this impossible. The genius of great financiers, merchants, manufacturers and the managers of large systems of transportation has never been adequately recognized by society, which has been too prone to 236 SOCIOLOGY pay to the warrior or the priest the homage really due to the financier and the merchant who made p ossible the success of the others. 1 These achievers in the economic world, with all their shortcomings, represent a factor in society with claims comparable to those of scientific invention or industrial skill. Their reward, however, should not be in a permission to monopolize the profits of industry, but in well-earned dignities and honors such as only society can give. The benefits from their financial exertions, which would be fruitless without the cooperation of other social agencies, should be shared alike by all in the state, according to the so- cial utility of each. Society, in addition to its natural resources, needs as a foundation on which to erect the edifice of cultural civilization, the combined capacities of worker, manager, scientist and inventor. Given these, wisely fostered, carefully regulated and safe- guarded, as necessity demands, there need be no further anxiety in respect to cultural civilization, for it would develop easily and rapidly. What then is the social problem in respect to cul- tural civilization? The answer can perhaps be more „ . , . readily seen if one has clearly in mind just Social lm- . portance of what is implied by the phrase cultural civil- cultural ization. This has already been explained as the sum total of all society's religious, moral, esthetic and intellectual achievements. 2 But these achievements are not tangible, material things, but 1 Note the interesting series by Elbert Hubbard for 1909, entitled "Little Journeys to the Homes of Great Business Men." 2 Pages 167, 168. CULTURAL AND MATERIAL CIVILIZATION 237 are felt, desired, sought for and perceived by the mind. A peasant, however, dulled by centuries of over- worked ancestry lacks the high quality of mind neces- sary for cultural achievement and appreciation. Back of high psychic attainment is a delicately organized nervous system, and a physical brain strongly convo- luted and strengthened by centuries of ancestral think- ing. Plainly society cannot make such organisms, as it might order a cannon or a ship. All that can be done is on the assumption that its racial stock contains such quality, to arrange the conditions of life so that that kind of brain may have an opportunity for train- ing and expression. If one assumes the truth of the Platonic idea that such capacity is not restricted to the privileged classes only, but is latent among the mass of the population, and may be developed under proper conditions, then evidently society should en- deavor to ascertain who are those in its population that have capacity and talent for moral, esthetic and intellectual attainment. There are especial reasons why this should be done. In the first place economic attainment is itself dependent „ . , . on the development of a certain amount of Social de- l mand for culture. Honesty and moral uprightness are talent and essential to business success, but the keenness genius. or economic competition naturally tends to lower moral standards, and there is need always of an infusion of higher morality from the cultural world so as to keep economic attainment on a high grade. The farsighted manager sees that competition is best met by honesty, supplemented by an infinite attention to 238 SOCIOLOGY the elimination of waste, the perfection of organization, the utilization of labor-saving inventions and a body of employees who work for the business and not merely for wages. No nation can maintain supremacy in the economic world until high morals dominate its economic life. The trickery and double dealing so common in petty business becomes unprofitable in a larger indus- trial sphere. Japan, e. g. as it passes into the competi- tion for the business of the world, handicapped by the dishonesty of its merchants, is deliberately trying to raise the moral standards of trade to those set by its former knightly class, the Samurai. In the same way there is needed in economic life an idea of the artistic if only to enlarge the demand for finer grades of goods. The words cheap and ugly are almost synonymous, and what they stand for belongs to a low economic order. Economic achievements themselves readily become ar- tistic, for there is a close relationship between the brain that can invent a machine and that which can fashion a statue. In the same way an economic civilization can never attain its height unless the scientist and the phi- losopher cooperate. The head of a great business must see visions, he must be a prophet, a scientist and a phi- losopher by intuition ; he must foresee the conditions of the market, accurately judge human motives and char- acter, comprehend the significance of inventions and scientific discoveries, and he must view the parts of his establishment as a whole and in its relations to other departments of economic activity. As its economic life broadens, therefore, a country must develop culture and cultural education, and must use in its business the CULTURAL AND MATERIAL CIVILIZATION 239 most capable men turned out by the colleges, by offering the stimulus of high pecuniary reward. There is another reason why society must assist to birth cultural civilization. The most serious handicaps Need of ^° soc i a l development arise from poor phy- cuiturai sique and low ideals. The sin, vice and ideals. misery of life are, aside from physical causes, due to the defectiveness and insufficiency of cultural teaching and idealism. The stimulus that may come to a life through the inspiration of a great moral or religious idea, or a love for the beautiful in form, color or sound has a refining influence that makes one abhor the vulgarity of vice. A knowledge of scientific truth is one of the most powerful agencies for the promotion of morality. The necessity of law, and the inevitable consequences that follow a violation of it, teach morality as no text-book can; and he who can rightly philosophize may make blunders in his life to be sure, but has an in- spiration that lifts him above the primitive vices, en- abling him to live a life of honor and nobility. Finally, society should favor cultural development, because only thereby can man enjoy happiness. After all, happiness is the aim of life as philosophy is the guide of it. In primitive savagery eating and mating made up the joy of existence. Then came the delights of warring and of besting one's opponent in economic competition. But as men pass into higher civilization, these pleasures pair into insignificance before the joy derived from the higher emotions and intellectual aspirations. Physical and competitive joys find their proper place in life, but a society, whose members can appreciate the beauty of 240 SOCIOLOGY a moral, artistic or scientific ideal, has within itself a happiness that will inspire the physical and the eco- nomic also, and make even monotonous work a pleasure. Cultural civilization springs from the material, and in return it becomes its most stalwart supporter, inspiring a more abundant economic life in society. If now we assume that society, appreciating the im- portance of cultural attainment, desires to multiply the amount of it, what methods should it use? acia The first and chief point has already several vigor. r J times been mentioned. The social group must be made up in the main of a vigorous race, freed from the fear of starvation and from a dreary routine of endless toil. Healthy bodies, sound minds and leisure are the social essentials for cultural achievement and civilization. This standard is by no means so impossible of attain- ment as it may seem. For the laws of physical develop- ment are so well understood to-day 1 that, other things being equal, there is no reason why society should not definitely proceed to build up the physique of the race. Pure-food laws, the study of household economics, in- cluding dietetics, gymnasia of all sorts, out-of-door recreations and games, parks and summer vacations for purposes of rest, all these modern movements aim to build up a national physique. The real difficulty is that a large part of the racial stock, because of its low economic status, is debarred from these benefits. This 1 As examples of such works, note Walter L. Pyle, "Personal Hygiene," and F. Jordan, "Character as Seen in Body and Par- entage." CULTURAL AND MATERIAL CIVILIZATION 241 obstacle, while a serious one, is not insurmountable. If society clearly saw what it wanted, and perceived the means at hand for the accomplishment of its desire, time and social education would do the rest. Probably most of our advanced nations could free themselves from this incubus within a very few gen- erations if they felt so inclined. They have Means of ' J ... attaining already wealth and economic achievement racial enough to dispense with the handicap of an ignorant, unskilled proletariat, if proper adjustments were made. This class is the real drag to material prosperity. Because of its misery, not because of its innate depravity, it supplies the larger part of our vice, pauperism and crime, with the conse- quent expense of charity, jails, correctional schools, hospitals, police force and other disciplinary agencies, to say nothing of the energy wasted by these theoreti- cally useless institutions and the social loss due to undeveloped capacity in the proletariat. This waste is a heavy tax on social efficiency and, as it naturally tends to increase by mere imitation and propagation, it can drag down a nation from the foremost place and make of it an Italy or a Spain. The following remedies are possible : invention should be stimulated so as to multiply machinery to perform the work now done by unskilled labor; food 0C1 . ...... supplies could be cheapened by scientific possibilities. l r l J development; the housing condition of the poor could be vastly improved by wiser legislation; economic profits could be more fairly distributed by the encouragement of the wiser features of trade- 242 SOCIOLOGY unionism, and by a state tax derived from incomes, inheritances, franchises and corporations, instead of present systems of taxation whose burden falls chiefly on the poor. The effective regulation of corporations would also be essential, and checks should be placed on monopolistic tendencies. Industrial and cultural education should be vigorously encouraged and given in its best forms to the poorest classes, so as to stimu- late them to enter skilled occupations and begin the intensive cultivation of the land. 1 Finally, society should endeavor to distribute its population by the use of such stimuli as were employed in the settlement of the great West. A policy aiming gradually to remove the necessity of unskilled labor would tend to purify so- cial life, to free an immense amount of energy and cap- ital now wasted, to multiply achievements by enlarging the achieving classes, and by bringing the extremes of society nearer, to allow a real democracy. It hardly seems possible that the expense of any such policy would begin to equal the present annual cost of vice, crime and pauperism. Not that these would be entirely eliminated; such problems will undoubtedly last for centuries; but the backbone, so to speak, of the whole problem would be broken by the elimination of the depressed third of advanced civilization. If one were to take into account the increase of social happiness and capacity as the result of such a policy, a clear conviction would surely arise that the trial would be worth while. 1 See as an interesting study of this sort, Bolton Hall, "Three Acres and Liberty." CHAPTER XIII EDUCATION ' AS A FACTOR IN SOCIAL PROGRESS The economic is one factor in social progress; edu- cation is its complement. At the outset it should be Education stated that sociology is not primarily con- in the cerned with that part of social phenomena included in the so-called science of educa- tion. That science devotes itself mainly to the kind of education imparted by the ordinary schools of a national system of education. In these, aside from those for industrial and technical education, instruc- tion is given in the simpler traditional knowledge of society, and chiefly for economic and civic purposes. It consists in the main of linguistics and mathematics, eked out by a slight amount of scientific and cultural information. The wisdom of present methods and courses of study is seriously questioned by many, as well as their utility for industrial life or for a cultural civilization. This question, however, is outside the province of sociology, except in so far as its principles may prove helpful in determining the policy of an educational sj^stem. 1 For an excellent reference book on education, see Ellwood P. Cubberley, "Syllabus of Lectures on the History of Education, with Selected Bibliographies and Suggested Readings." A shorter but excellent bibliography may be found in Thomas Davidson, "His- tory of Education." Note also in this, Chapter IV. 243 244 SOCIOLOGY Since every formal system of education is a telic phenomenon, and implies that society has a distinct The aim enc ^ m mmc ^ that en d should be clear, and of public the means to attain the end should be the education, k^ p 0SS ik} e im d er the circumstances. If therefore public education is fundamentally intended as a basis for economic life, with such civic infor- mation as may be necessary for citizenship, then the question of means has a definite basis. School ad- ministration is regularly static, and innovations enter slowly, yet movements away from the old are clearly in evidence. The trend toward industrial education has already been indicated, and changes in respect to cultural education are equally well marked: as the church, for example, is losing its control over secular education and has no compulsory authority, it must teach religion to the young attractively, not dogmatic- ally; in the schools themselves a moral change is indicated by the fact that chastisement and forced drudgery begin to yield to incitement of interest and emphasis on self-control; sciences with their fields of general knowledge are replacing the former undue emphasis on linguistics; and esthetic training and stimulation of thought processes are driving out mem- orization and task work. There is a movement to emphasize the achievemental ideas of higher progress rather than studies of meaningless details. Sociology approves this stress on. social fundamentals, represent- ing the dynamic, progressive quality of the social mind, without which static conditions would prevail. Much of the other sort of knowledge is acquired under the EDUCATION AND SOCIAL PROGRESS 245 domestic, economic and social environment of early years, if these are at all what they should be; and schools should merely supplement this natural train* ing in connection with an increasing emphasis on scien- tific teachings in their fundamental form, and the cultural ideals of higher civilization. No system of education is worthy of the name which fails to teach its pupils cosmic principles, or fails to arouse the imaginative and the ideal, and to give glimpses of the world of thought. The human mind naturally begins to reach after these in the early years of adolescence, while facts and activities appeal throughout the entire period of growth. There are many who, curiously enough, assume that there is a natural antagonism between utility and cul- ture. Like Mr. Gradgrind, 1 who preferred Supposed . n antagonism facts to theories and figures to fancies, they of utility believe that no instruction is good unless and culture. . . . . presented in unattractive form and driven in by sternness and threat. But a wiser psychology insists that the mind in its development follows a natural order, and should be supplied always with a mental diet suited to its stage of life, so that the child will in a sense hunger and thirst after knowledge. With that as an ideal, in early years well-directed play, the use of tools to some extent, the simple prin- ciples of science and of human industry, training in rhythmic movements and sounds, and the beauty of color and form, might be imparted as fundamentals, 1 Dickens' "Hard Times": "Thomas Gradgrind, sir — a man of realities, a man of facts and calculations." 246 SOCIOLOGY leaving as incidental the knowledge of written language and notation, until the mind demanded them for use and acquired them with ease. Under such a training there would be no necessary opposition between the useful and the attractive. The youth who passed into the industries would carry with them an idea of beauty and knowledge that would be felt in their work ; and those passing on to higher education would have as a basis a knowledge of tools and industry that would help to bridge the chasm between the economic and the cultural worlds. Certainly nothing can be more disheartening than the dull apathy of those legions of citizens who have been "educated" under the pres- ent system, but who never caught the gleam of inspira- tion, nor thought of school or college except as a place of punishment and detention. Like Bunyan's atheist, they traveled the road that leads to paradise, but after reaching the gates of it they turned back and reported its non-existence. It is useless to disguise the many failures of education by charging them to the stupidity of pupils. Pupils are often stupid because of physical defect or malnutrition, 1 but failure is too often due to a defective course of study and to the incompetency of poorly paid and wretchedly trained teachers, who yet are struggling forward to an era when teaching will be, as Plato argued, the profession most deserving of honor in the state. Although sociology is deeply interested in the re- sults obtained from industrial and state education, 1 For a careful study on this topic, see A. W. Smyth, "Physical Deterioration." EDUCATION AND SOCIAL PROGRESS 247 there is another field of knowledge, which is of more vital importance to social progress. It will be remem- „. , bered that the rise of a leisure class was Rise ot cultural noted as one of the most important achievc- ldeais. ments of early civilization. It is an excellent illustration of how a genetic achievement containing elements both good and bad, may in time turn defi- nitely in positive and telic directions. In its begin- nings it was made up of forceful, brainy men, who for selfish purposes exploited their fellows in war or slav- ery, thereby growing wealthy through injustice. As individuals they of course by modern standards deserve simply condemnation, but, out of the system thus established, grew a class of persons who, freed from economic strain, devoted themselves to thought, out- side of the field of war and industrial toil. 1 Out of their speculations on the mysteries in nature and in the human mind, and on the bases for moral and social systems, there slowly developed empirical sciences and philosophies, ideals of goodness, beauty and truth, and laws that seemed to them eternal. One should be chary censuring the blunders of a genetic development. In such an age men are prone 1 Historically such classes would best be illustrated by the priest- hood, such as the hierarchy of ancient Egypt, for example, or by the Greek philosophers. In more modern times our scientists, thinkers, artists and moral and religious leaders are seldom engaged in industrial occupations. They receive support from some uni- versity or ecclesiastical organization in order that they may devote themselves to cultural achievement. The leading thinkers in great universities are, for example, seldom expected to teach more than six hours per week. Their real work is in the study or the labo- ratory. 248 SOCIOLOGY to assume that the knowledge they have is absolute, lacking as they do historical perspective and facility The errors m P rev isi° n - Because of that fact, how- of past ever, it was natural that the teachings of civilization. great fofok eTS m static civilization should have developed into settled dogmas against which no one must raise his voice. Yet in every dynamic age, aroused b}' the clash of changing conditions, new thinkers with true insight and daring promulgated wiser teachings, even though they were considered "impious and perverters of the youth." Through such persons dogma was broken down, and newer truths passed into social consciousness. 1 As in all such movements, prog- ress was slow. The influence of the innovator was weak in comparison with the power of static thought, which retarded advancement many centuries by repression and persecution. Fortunately for progressive civiliza- tion, the invention of printing broke the power of dog- matism, and after a struggle of five hundred years the printed page and the voice have become free, never again to be suppressed. 2 While, therefore, those who believe that truth has been finally ascertained, whether in science or theology, may, like the decrepit giant of Bunyan, mumble at passers-by, they can no longer bar the way of travelers to a larger knowledge of life. This development probably marks the beginning 1 As illustrations of this may be noted Edward Clodd, "Pioneers of Evolution from Thales to Huxley," and C. Raymond Beazley, "The Dawn of Modern Geography— A. D. 300-1420," 3 vols. 2 On this subject may be noted article by the author on "What are the legitimate limits of free speech in a republic?" Proceed- ings uj the Baptist Congress at Chicago, 1908. EDUCATION VXD SOCIAL PROGRESS 249 of the end of genetic thought as characteristic of society. We are passing into an age when society, becoming self-conscious of its destiny, is aiming to enlarge its activity in accord with well-planned ends. In order to do so, however, it must " take account of stock." Now the most valuable possession society has is its mass of cultural ideas. Its greatest Social value . of the men are those who think out new thoughts ideas of anc i a( j(j to the sum total of human achieve- ment. Sociology's chief interest in education is to see to it that these great ideas be enlarged, unified, taught and utilized for social progress. It is interested in the rise of men who will add to these ideas, it desires the broadening of scientific knowledge, and the multi- plication of inventions for lifting from human shoulders the necessity of wearisome, physical toil, so that the people as a whole may enjoy leisure. In its philo- sophic aspect it anticipates the time when the great truths of ethics, religion and philosophy 1 may be pre- sented so clearly to the human mind that men may emancipate themselves from bondage to ignorance, and become free in will and mind. The education, there- fore, in which sociology is directly interested is not that taught in the schools, fundamental though it is, but rather the teaching of those ideas that arouse men, as Kant put it, "from dogmatic slumber," and inspire in 1 Note as attempts in this direction the several works by John Beattie Crozier, e. g. "Civilization and Progress," and "History of Intellectual Development on the Lines of Modern Evolution," vol. i. 250 SOCIOLOGY them a desire to engage in the never-ending search for the holy grail of science and philosophy. This education is not necessarily imparted merely in schools and colleges, where instruction is so largely tra- ditional, but is carried on also in laboratory education ° T anc ^ factory, in libraries, art centers, in private study and in great correspondence schools. It comes through the printing press and in the vari- ous kinds of esthetic enjoyment — in beauty of motion, form, color and sound, or even in the games that de- velop moral qualities, as well as on the platform where great issues are discussed. Our present dynamic civili- zation is animated through and through by a desire for real knowledge, and along with much that is useless and even injurious, it is seeking to develop its knowledge of social achievement. Great economic inventions are in- volving the readjustment of state, church, family and school. As these readjust themselves to new or modified bases the beginnings of movements to moralize and beautify life should arise in natural order, and finally will come the great philosophies to explain and unify past achievements. First the inventor and the scientist as sappers and engineers to prepare the way, then re- organized institutions to retain what has been gained, and finally a philosophy to unify the work and to push on the forward movement. This order of development, it may.be seen, is implied in the serial order of the sciences. 1 If we look at these once more the interdependence of all knowledge is evident. Before society can make a great advance in 1 See page 23. EDUCATION AND SOCIAL PROGRESS 251 economic and cultural achievement, it must broaden its scientific knowledge. Geological study will give more complete information about the earth's strata Scientific anc | £j ie wea m 1 f minerals buried in them; knowledge. physics must discover yet more in regard to cosmic energy and how it may be comprehended and forced to serve human ends, as light, heat and power; 1 chemistry must show the new possibilities for manu- facturing and invention; biological science must add to our knowledge of the laws of plant and animal life, in order that we may eradicate the diseases of organic structures and constructively develop through the use of natural energy a more abundant food supply and a better racial stock; while psychology must discover how mankind may treble or quadruple its capacity for thought. Only as these sciences add achievement to achievement can economic and political institutions cooperate to build up a favorable basis for the development of a vigorous racial stock, whose every instinct will tend toward activity, so as to overcome the inertia of cen- turies of static civilization. Needless to say that under such conditions, properly guided for common enjoy- ment, there could not help but come a great outburst of cultural civilization. Scientific knowledge is a great moralizer, and while simple morals are best taught through social imitation, ethical standards are far better promul- gated through science. It needs no prophet to foretell that if a vigorous race, morally and mentally capable, 1 As types of cosmic generalizing studies may be noted Carl Snyder, "The World Machine," and J. A. Thomson, "The Secret of Life." 252 SOCIOLOGY surrounded by our modern wealth of learning, saw itself in the midst of a progressive age, its bounding energy- would add achievement after achievement in the arts, in religion and in philosophy. It is not the Ghetto or the slum that produces our best thought, but the ease of leisure, the environment of culture and a deathless am- bition to make life worth living. Happiness, not misery, is the spur to higher achievement. With respect to the achievemental ideas of society, it is needless to expect anything but the slow and tortuous Telic multi- movement °f genetic development, unless plication of society definitely undertakes to see to it that ac ievement.-£ g g rea ^ truths are developed and taught. The time must come when the broadening of knowl- edge may be definitely undertaken by the state itself, but as long as its interests are chiefly warlike and economic, it can give small attention even to matters fundamentally more important. As war dies out and economic development becomes more scientifically or- ganized, the state will turn more and more to the moral- izing and beautifying ! of the conditions of life. Mean- while, as always in history, that stage must be preceded by the movement of individuals and voluntary groups, each furthering a special improvement. But these nu- merous agencies in time are unified, and great pro- vincial, national and even international organizations develop, to systematize telic activity. Our age is in the midst of this period, and higher cultural achievements are multiplying by leaps and bounds. Such achieve- 1 See, for example, Charles Mulford Robinson, "Modern Civic Art." EDUCATION AND SOCIAL PROGRESS 253 ments as these may be made by individuals, and by social groups, as well as by society as a whole. The number of persons absorbed in the possibility of some achievement is relatively small. There always will be multitudes to "hold the fort," but not many willing to join the "forlorn hope." Still, the test of civilization as well as of bravery is willingness to expend energy and one's self in the attempt to push forward the van of progress. For this reason the enlightened half of the world has always held as its real heroes those who in study or laboratory have painfully worked out the great discoveries in science, art, invention and thought, that collectively make men but "little lower than the an- gels." A civilization is sound as long as it - is rearing men and women who neglect bodily ease to search out the possibilities in radium or electricity, the significance of the microbe in disease, or who plan a national banking system or an improvement in law; or discover scientific methods for the reduction of the death rate; or who enrich life by achievements in art and philosophy. Immediate results matter little; if only civilization has such workers its progress is sure. The contrary is true when men become self-satisfied and devote themselves to the classification of the knowledge of their fathers. A man in love with his pedigree may feel sure that the best part of him is buried with his ancestry. When civilization turns its face toward the past, it is a sure indication that the times are decadent and that persons prefer ease to nobler ambitions. It is a hopeful sign of the times that individual energy is being powerfully stimulated and supplemented by 254 SOCIOLOGY group activity. Throughout higher civilization there are numerous institutions for scientific investigation. Gr for the impartation of systematic inform a- achieve- tion in respect to achievement, and for the ment ' stimulation of others to aid directly or in- directly in the forward work of civilization. In the great colleges and universities, in laboratories, in ex- perimental departments of manufactories, in libraries and in art centers men are supported by group funds to work out the problems of civilization. A similar work, though more restricted, is being done by states, which through national universities, scientific bureaus, and commissions for research are A.chi©v6~ ment adding to the common stock of achievement, through Unquestionably the state will in the future take an increasingly larger part in this, but should never be allowed to monopolize it lest it tend to develop fixed standards. The very fact that it represents the nation as a whole tends to make it somewhat conservative and less prone to experiment with the new. Freedom of thought and activity are essential to high attainment, and for some generations at least the initiative of individuals and voluntary groups will prove more trustworthy than a well-inten- tioned government handicapped by general inertia and the opposition of affected interests. If the time should ever come when state, college and church shall have freed themselves from the notion that there are some laws, institutions and dogmas "too sacred to be dis- cussed," and shall have adopted the scientific idea that teachings are always to be held open for more light EDUCATION AND SOCIAL PROGRESS 255 and knowledge, then it may be possible to work entirely through these for achievement. As Sir Thomas More, however, once wrote, " There are many things . . . that I rather wish than hope to sec followed in our govern- ments." x As long as a curriculum is a time-honored institution, a government perfect in its own eyes, and a religion so true that its dogmas are taught to unthink- ing children, it may be necessary at times for individ- uals and groups to nail their protest to the door, and to proclaim a newer teaching which, like Virgil's jama, will gain strength by discussion. 2 Should higher education be imparted to all the members of a social group or to a class only? 3 The Class or answer of genetic civilization is very clear; general industrial and economic training should be e ucation. gj ven ^ ^he masses, cultural training to the few. If society rested satisfied with this reply, it would at once proceed to divide its educational sys- tem into two parts: instruction in the trades for the many, and a "classical course" for the children of leisure, who are to be kept from the defilement of industrial pursuits. Indeed, educational systems readily and naturally incline in that direction. To think otherwise in fact really requires an effort of the social will and a clear perception of an ideal to be attained. This ideal in opposition to genetic civiliza- tion is supplied by the democratic humanitarian move- 1 "Utopia," at the end. 2 Book IV, 1. 175: virisque adquirit eundo. 3 On this point see Mackenzie's "Social Philosophy," Chapter VI, Part III. 256 SOCIOLOGY merit of recent centuries, which exalts as an ideal equal opportunity, for all, irrespective of social station. Obvi- ously this ideal is as yet impracticable in complete application, but in education an approximation to it is possible through free public schools and the ease with which, in some countries at least, persons of small means may obtain education in college or university. Since the ideal of democracy is from the socio- logical standpoint a matter of fundamental importance, it makes great difference whether cultural Social 1m- . portance of knowledge is open to the many or the few. the demo- The reaS0 n has already been partially ex- cr3.tic icl°til plained. Great achievements are not made by humdrum minds but by men of genius. Talent is not confined to the descendants of the members of the leisure class only, but is displayed by the sons of the poor, who in their bitter experience often develop a type of mentality potent with genius. Yet if class lines are sharply drawn and cultural opportunities are scantily offered to the poor, hard toil and the lack of a stimulating environment depress natural capacity. In consequence, a powerful brain, able to make great achievement under proper conditions, becomes warped; and, blindly fretting with discontent, turns against existing institutions, and may become rabidly hostile to society. The social loss is not simply therefore in achievements not made, but in avoidable friction and turbulence. From either standpoint the waste is unnecessary. If as a matter of telic policy a distinct attempt were made to impart to all members of society, rich and poor, male and female, an opportunity in their EDUCATION AND SOCIAL PROGRESS 257 youth to come into contact with a stimulating cultural environment through wiser and larger educational facilities; and if the brightest were carefully trained to see the boundless opportunities lying before them in the economic and cultural worlds, certain effects would inevitably follow. There would be a greater refinement and morality among the people as a whole; many would become far more capable workers, parents and citizens; and still others would carry out ambi- tions and desires, leading toward social achievement. Occasionally from the ranks would rise a poet or an inventor, a statesman or a philosopher, who would leave an immortal name. If a nation did nothing more than to give systematic and scientific training in the industries, labor-saving devices would probably multi- ply in great number, for many workingmen have natural ingenuity and see possible improvements in the machin- ery they handle, but lack the knowledge necessary to bring their ideas to fruition. When the unskilled become skilled and the skilled become scientific, the worst part of the social problem will be solved. When all citizens through social and civic agencies are brought into contact with the best in civilization, democracy will prove its utility and justify the visions of men like Jefferson and Lincoln who trusted even the people of their time. CHAPTER XIV APPLICATIONS OF SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY TO SOCIAL PROGRESS One of the most important problems in social philos- ophizing is the maintenance of a proper balance between c . , social control and individual initiative, the Social con- > troi and in- one tending toward static, the other toward dividuahsm. dynamic civilization. It is easy with Plato to approve a form of society in which the wisest regulate with perfect system the entire social order. If only the community could be placed under the guidance of a benevolent monarch, or of the most capable class, and be told what to believe and how and when to work or play, social arrangements to many would seem ideally perfect. Unquestionably in every national group a large part of the population would pre- fer just that system, wishing for no better lot than the privilege of transferring all their anxieties to a ruling class under the guaranty of a sheltering roof, a full stomach and social companionship. Yet in every community there always are others who in heaven itself would demand the privilege of intro- ducing innovations. 1 Pushing, restless individualists, fond of the stimulus of danger, they are eager to try ex- 1 Milton's Satan, in "Paradise Lost," is an heroic figure and seeme to many more attractive than his opponent. 258 APPLICATIONS OF SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY 259 periments even though in the attempt they blow them- selves skyward. What they lack in numbers they make up in energy, and they insist on stirring up discord, even when social order has been established and a "Roman peace" proclaimed. One class prefers peace even with ignominy, the other liberty or death. It is the eternal cosmic opposition between inertia and motion, the centripetal and the centrifugal, heredity and variation, aristocracy and democracy, socialism and individualism. The sociological solution for the problem of harmon- izing these warring elements is the comparatively simple method of compromise. It would retain both types of mind but would have them work in promise. J l unison. 1 It emphasizes the importance of a social order with its definite law, customs and institutions, but makes the maintenance of this order depend on the quality of the individuals, seeking always to make these energetic and intelligent. It would have society dominate individuals who have themselves fixed the conditions of their subjection, and who find in the system a ready scope for their energy and ambition. It, there- fore, insists on a social control and an individual initia- tive, as both necessary factors for social order, but would so adjust them if possible that order would be- come progressive and, like the solar system, move steadily forward toward a goal too distant for the human mind as yet fully to comprehend. Social control is of course exerted chiefly through the collective mass of social institutions. In the customs, x Note on this topic N. S. Shaler, "The Individual," "The Neighbor." 260 SOCIOLOGY traditions and law of these numerous organizations is conserved the wisdom and folly of past generations. The family, the church and the state, for in- Sociai a apt " stance, by determining rules, adjusting wrongs and disputes, and through education seek to mould each new generation into racial and ancestral types. The youthful mind is plastic, and readily adapts itself to instruction, whether given by word or example. It is taught to respect public opinion, to obey law, to accept traditional beliefs, to act in conventional ways, and to conform to set standards of conduct. It is taught respect for power and knowledge, love for kin and country, and the principles of egoism and altruism. Evidently the importance of social institutions should never be underestimated. As agencies that mould the customs of newer generations they ensure social sta- bility and conserve racial achievements. 1 Yet in a dynamic age it would be a great misfortune if institu- tions were so fixed as to be changed only with great difficulty. On the other hand, it would be equally per- nicious if customs and institutions were too easily mod- ified, responding to each passing influence. Rigidity needs to be combined in social organization with flexi- bility, so that changes may come, but gradually, in order that the mind may become used to newer condi- tions as the older pass away. Economic and educa- tional changes wisely planned toward a telic purpose would allow this. It takes time for inventions, or for 1 For an excellent study of social institutions in contrasting civ- ilizations, see Edward Payson Tenney, "Contrasts in Social Prog- ress." APPLICATIONS OF SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY 261 modifications in employment, in foods and in housing to become familiar to the whole of society. Scientific ideas and the ideals of cultural civilization have to be slowly absorbed and assimilated before results can follow, and a generation may pass before desired modifications are evident. Just as agriculture necessitates more patience and forethought than nomadism, so society must plan for a hundred years in advance, and its leaders be con- tent to let others reap what they sow. At present men foolishly demand rapid results, and expect by mere legislation to introduce new systems. Fundamental changes too suddenly introduced upset more than they upbuild, and human experience has wisely decreed that haste must be made slowly. If, however, economic and educational conditions are modified so that the extremes of economic wealth Relativity ^ enc ^ ^° disappear, if skill supersedes igno- of knowl- ranee in trade and industry, and scientific and cultural ideas become familiar to all, there will follow gradually but surely, changes in the other institutions of life, tending to build up a more vigorous racial physique, and a greater mental flexi- bility for the assimilation of cultural ideals. The real importance of social institutions would then become clear. If based on scientific principles, stable yet pro- gressive, they would develop in each generation more and more effectively men capable of rectifying the blunders of former ages, and of building up a civiliza- tion that would eliminate the weaker elements in society. The fundamental necessity is that these great static influences should avoid a dogmatic attitude of mind. 262 SOCIOLOGY It does not much matter whether error be taught along with the good, if only its teachers will admit the possi- bility of error and urge their pupils to seek out the truth. It is characteristic of static conditions to assume that parents, teachers, religious guides, great leaders of all sorts, the printed page and ancient teach- ings, are all perfect. It is far better, while teaching the best one knows, to admit fallibility, to aid in the search for larger truth, and to stimulate the younger to join in the seeking. Our institutions must teach what seems true at the time, but with as little dogma- tism as possible. Along with instruction in the cus- toms, beliefs and traditions of the age should be taught an attitude of mind, viz. a determination while holding fast what is good, to reach out ever in search of the better, guided by an ideal of the best. It is socially wrong to teach a child as absolute truth doctrines that in later years will impede his mental progress or neces- sitate a struggle for their modification or rejection. Freeing one's mind from error should be a joy, yet dogmatic teachings make disillusion painful. Hector voiced the noblest aspiration of humanity in praying that his boy might be wiser and braver than he was, and Elijah once prayed for death because he was no better than his fathers. Each generation should rejoice in seeing its successor eliminating defective teachings and enlarging the mental horizon. There is probably no truth to-day so absolute that it should be taught without the implication of possible later modi- fications. When an attitude of receptivity and open- mindedness is imparted along with statical training AIM' LI CATIONS OF SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY 263 and information, human mentality will grow more susceptible to truth, and static teachings will imper- ceptibly become dynamic. Civilization traditionally begins with a perfect Eden in the past, but it works toward a Paradise made up of men become divine; it begins with a final good, but it tends to reach toward an ever larger truth. Just as the steering-gear of a steamer is useless if there is no steam to regulate, so there can be no social . control unless there be something to control. This something in societv is the mass of forces. ° bodily passions, the desires of the human mind, its ambitions and its demands. In a weakling, these are feeble and there is nothing worth controlling. Such a person is moulded by his environment and his companionship. As a basis for effective social control, therefore, it is vastly important that powerful social forces surge through the individuals of society. An ascetic contempt for the joys and ambitions of life is suicidal. Men must wish vigorously and work mightily to accomplish their desires. Through society as a whole there should be eager longings for wealth, for bodily comfort, for the satisfaction of conjugal and parental feelings, for altruistic service, for a realiza- tion of ideals of morality and beauty, and for a con- ception of the essential harmony of the universe. A society lacking these is inert, contemptible, and des- tined to extinction; but with them, though there is the possibility that the violence of its ambitions may work its destruction, it also may become an irresistible factor for progress. 264 SOCIOLOGY It is, as already explained, an important function of society, by economic and educational regulation, to develop these social forces to their utmost. The devel- . opment of If society by scientific knowledge and mven- sociai tion banishes disease, builds up a vigorous forces. , . , , . physical race, and increases economic pro- duction and food supplies, it thereby stimulates the physical energies of men, so essential as a basis for social activity. Then if a wiser educational system would teach social standards, the reasons underlying law and morals, and the ideals of cultural civilization, as stimuli to ambition, these forces would need simply wise social guidance and information as to the best methods for the accomplishment of ambitions. Society, therefore, instead of seeking to repress social forces by restrictive legislation and prohibitive forms of morality, should rather encourage the strengthening of these forces, and should devote itself to the study of wiser methods of regulation. Celibacy, for instance, in place of being a saintly virtue is socially a sin; the love of money instead of being the root of all evil is the basis of material civilization. Caesar instead of being mur- dered because he was ambitious, should have been encouraged to become patriotically ambitious. Palissy, the inventor, instead of being condemned for burning his furniture to keep up the heat under his pottery, should have been forgiven had he used his neighbor's fence also. There are of course perverted feelings in society that demand rigid training and even repression for the time, but such instances should prove fewer in number as society learns wiser control. A father APPLICATIONS OF SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY 265 no longer has the power of life and death over his wife and children, and the use of the rod is passing from home and school. A teacher who cannot control without the threat of punishment is forced to find another occupa- tion. Society begins to realize that there arc neces- sarily no evil passions, if normal heredity and environ- ment are supplemented by wise parental and social control. If, however, with a defective physique because of malnutrition, and a warped mentality because of improper training, a person under the influence of defective companionship acts perversely, the blame should be charged to the conditions of life, and without the assumption that normal persons normally trained need the same sort of repressive control. In primitive civilization social control is the same for all persons in the community, and rightly so, for Variations a ^ are practically alike since they are un- in social der the same conditions of life. But when social classes arise, and differences develop in respect to heredity, environment and education, there must be corresponding differences in the qual- ity and quantity of control; those of highest cultural attainment needing least, and those needing most who are lowest in the scale of civilization. This dif- ference would not be so necessary if the lower social classes were expected to conform only*to standards suited to their own conditions of life, but unfortunately for them they are, as a rule, expected to conform to standards of a higher grade of civilization, and com- pliance becomes well-nigh impossible. The prevalence of so much vice and crime may thus be partially ex- 266 SOCIOLOGY plained, since much that a high civilization condemns would meet with social approbation in lower civiliza- tion. Plainly, therefore, as society develops a wiser system of social control it will rely less and less on prohibitions and more on wise suggestion and the presentation of high ideals. The real stimulus toward the attainment of ideals comes when men are inspired with the hope of success. The If men can confidently hope to attain wealth, stimulus social standing, honor and reputation, social of hope. activity is assured. Society will simply need to explain its regulations, so that each may play the game fairly — with disqualifications for foul play. It is the hopelessness of attaining what is worth while that turns many aside to depraved forms of activity. A normal person loves to do his share in the common life and to feel that he deserves the approbation of his fellows. No man can resist public opinion definitely expressed. At the worst he will, if under public con- demnation, join himself with similar outcasts and enjoy their approbation. If society is retrograding, it may be well, as in the East, to advocate passivity, abnegation and fatalism; or if static, to urge contentment with one's lot; but in a dynamic, progressive age, boundless wants and ambitions imffly broader achievement. For this reason society should arouse men from inactivity by stimu- lating and multiplying their wants, should by training and regulation guide them to the best methods of attaining their desires, and should seek ever to make the agencies for social control more effective, having APPLICATIONS OF SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY 267 as an ideal human beings so normal in heredity and so well environed and trained, that their desires will harmonize with social demands. On several occasions attention has been directed to the importance for progress of variation, innovation, importance g ernus > talent, a leisure class and individual of per- initiative. All this practically amounts to sonahty. aR em ph as i s on the importance of vigor- ous personality. Every individual has a personality peculiarly his own, even though it may be rather colorless. But there is a personality that cannot al- ways be moulded into a social pattern; it erects its own standards, crushes opposition and creates achieve- ment, whether socially beneficial or injurious. There is such a glamour about vigorous personalities that public opinion is inclined to take them at their own value, to call them "supermen," and to place in their hands social destiny. Yet after all such men are the products of heredity and environment like other human beings, and probably have a certain amount of defectiveness in their natures, and, if one may judge of history, our supermen have done possibly as much harm as good. Since science is not yet acquainted with the laws of heredity sufficiently to be able to foretell the birth of a The devel- g en i us > nor to lay down the laws whereby opment of a larger number of these may be produced, genms. they may perhaps be left out of account as accidentals. Yet it is probable that if society, assum- ing much latent talent and genius in its members, should develop proper conditions for the production of genius, it would get the benefit of a great additional 268 SOCIOLOGY amount of capacity and would probably give the genius when born truer ideals of action and a deeper insight into social needs than those he might evolve unaided. It is important that society understand that genius is not superhuman. The genius has human parentage and grows up among human beings, acquiring from them and nature every particle of his knowledge. There are geniuses in plant and animal life as well as in humanity, and specialists in these branches are becoming expert in multiplying them. From the sociological stand- point the essential thing, therefore, is not to wait for the coming great man, the new Buddha, with the ex- pectation of bending the neck to his yoke, but rather to study into the biological, psychological, and sociological factors that unite to produce genius, and then to de- velop these factors so as to produce genius geometrically, instead of waiting for chance to bring some superman, as likely to trample down civilization as to upbuild it. Fortunately there is already sufficient scientific knowl- edge existent to enable society to make a start in this direction. A vigorous stock of good physique and mentality furnishes the basis for a parentage from which capable offspring should develop. From the psycho- logical standpoint it is then necessary by a wise educa- tion of the feelings to develop powerful interests which will lead to a varied activity or by concentration to a special form of activity. The next essential is that the intellect be trained to observe, to concentrate attention, to relate ideas and to form conclusions readily. Pref- erably these intellectual processes should be trained in connection with the interests aroused through the feel- APPLICATIONS OF SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY 269 ings, so that the mind will become used to working har- moniously. Lastly should come the stimulus from con- tact with the great thoughts of the time : through travel, intelligent conversation, reading and reflection, or by observation of human life with its vicissitudes, its aspi- rations and its toil. As society through social control and its system of education approximates to these con- ditions, or as families begin to surround their children with incitements to right development, talent and genius will be multiplied far in excess of the crude methods of nature unassisted by the human brain. 1 There are certain results arising from wiser education that sociologically are of great importance. An un- trained mind is prone to superstition, to un- In ivid- conscious imitation of environment, and is uahty. ' readily influenced by foolish fads or the wild excitement of crowd contagion. Training, however, gives the power to discriminate between the true and the false, to be moderate in fashion in spite of the in- fluence of social contagion, and, when passions are aroused by the frenzy of a mob, it enables one to call the intellect to correct the illusions aroused by deeply stirred feelings. Again it is socially important that an indi- vidual be able to make wise judgments in respect to his environment. Naturally each person remains subject to the habits of early environment, and becomes static. But a mind trained to make comparisons sees possi- bilities of improvement in other environments, and de- 1 For a discussion of genius, with references, see Ward's "Applied Sociology," Part II, and Havelock Ellis, "A Study of British Genius." 270 SOCIOLOGY liberately selects these so as to develop higher standards of conduct. In this way he imitates consciously what his judgment approves, and can add to his capacity by assimilating a larger knowledge than otherwise would be possible. But all this is merely another way of saying that the person has become individualistic. This word unfor- individuai- tunately is often used to mean that a narrow- ism a social minded person insists on his -own way because necessity. Q £ j^ g yer y ig norance> Even a mule has that form of individualism. But the truer meaning of the term implies that the person is no longer influenced by the crowd, or by the prestige of a great man or an influential class; that he is no longer the creature of his natural environment, but rather that his mind has made for itself a home in that larger world of thought, that he has his passions under the guidance of a well- informed intellect, and works consciously toward defi- nite purposes. The development of this form of indi- viduality is essential to true social development. He will best support social order who understands and ap- proves it. If there is need of change he seeks to ac- complish this with law and plan, carefully reasoning out methods and ends. Knowing himself, he respects him- self and has a pride in maintaining his reputation and broadening his character. Such men in a community steady it, aid in its development, and amply repay the costs of general education. Society should increasingly seek to develop this type of citizenship as the surest guaranty of social prosperity. From it will come achievements in economic and civic life. Cultural APPLICATIONS OF SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY 271 standards will broaden under its influence, and the man of the coming century will be prefigured: forceful, in- tellectual, of keen insight, idealistic in temperament, toiling for higher civilization. Such men combine in themselves the harmony of the conflict between the static and the dynamic. They represent stability with variability; the}' are the real aristocracy, the elite l of society, who through education have been led to believe in man and in his capacity for progress. They believe in a right social order, but also believe that man's reason should dictate the spirit of social organization. In short, they are neither conservative nor radical, but individuals who may be either as necessity demands. 1 For a discussion of this term, and a curious suggestion, viz. the formation of an international society of the elite, see "Theorie de l'elite," par Alfred Pichou, Revue Internationale de Sociologie, Aout- Septembre, 1906. CHAPTER XV THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS In any consideration of the forward movement of civilization one is impressed by the fact that there are in society many conditions that unitedly form Backward a serious hindrance to progress. This dy- civilization. r ° ... namic age demands great adaptability in social institutions and human mentality, but under static conditions both manifest a rigidity that resists even slight changes. Of course institutions and persons excessively conservative in time lose their importance, but their influence retards the progress of the whole com- munity. If civilization were throughout telic, it would advance evenly; as it is, however, there are always backward communities, or favorable opportunities not utilized, to impede progress. Every country has sec- tions where hopefulness and energy abound, and sections where stagnation breeds degeneration. If the unpro- gressive part is strong enough to hold back the pro- gressive, even though dynamic conditions are favorable, a nation may sink from its rightful place among states, to be ranked as backward in civilization. So, likewise, a society may be retarded by unwise prohibitions, un- scientific regulations, and by its inability through igno- rance to see the best methods of taking advantage of 272 THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 273 opportunities. There is, for example, no inherent reason why society should permanently be depressed by a great weight of vice, crime, pauperism and ignorance. While these hindrances to civilization presumably will always exist to some extent, theoretically if society would use the wisdom already existent these evils should be steadily reduced until they would become a vanishing quantity. In place, therefore, of pessimistically lamenting the sins of the age, society should seriously set about the problem of removing retarding conditions; a task by no means chimerical, but scientifically possible. Every one knows that it is much easier to tell what should have been done than to explain what Sociology should be done. It is comparatively easy to and social point out the mistakes of earlier generations, pro ems. j^ Qne ^^ nQ ^ ^ e same assurance when he seeks to show the proper solution for present-day problems. The reason is obvious enough; time gives a better perspective, wise conclusions in regard to past policy are numerous, and partisan considerations no longer tend to warp the judgment. The opposite con- ditions exist when a current problem is pressing for solu- tion, and the wisest person may in consequence err. Yet if sociology is simply to serve as a final judge on the past and not to be of real assistance in present difficulty, it will find no place in the reading of the man of affairs. It is essential, therefore, that if soci- ology has within itself scientific possibilities, it should throw some light on social problems, if only a candle gleam, and should work forward toward the time when it may illumine the path of social progress by its telic 274 SOCIOLOGY policies and by its scientific forecasts of social move- ments. It cannot probably for many centuries show in detail the program that society must follow, or work out, as in the astronomer's almanac, exact statements in respect to social phenomena; but it should soon be able to show the significance and probable consequence of any important social achievement, and to suggest in outline the principles that should be followed in order to eliminate an evil or to build up a good. For there are certain conclusions from sociological principles that may well serve as guide posts as to the probable direction in which attention should be turned, in order to under- stand the significance of social events. For, after all, a mere knowledge of the facts of history is unimportant, unless one is able to see the law of causation back of them all, and to learn wiser policies from its teachings. In illustration of this point may be cited well-known events in the racial and economic development of the United States, from which the contrast between a telic policy and one that grows genetically is evident. So far as racial and economic conditions were con- cerned these were from the start unquestionably favor- able for the development of a high civiliza- Early con- . . , , ditions in tion. The colonies started their national the United care er with a population made up of mem- bers of a dominant fighting race, in possession of a wide and fertile territory of temperate climate, rich in fuels and minerals, and environed by no really dan- gerous neighbors. Traditions of civil and religious freedom and a touching confidence in the efficacy of education as a social panacea were prevalent. Through THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 275 war, exploitation and purchase, the national boundaries were enlarged from sea to sea, and generous provision was made by land grants for common school education. More than that, government stimulated invention by wise patent laws, encouraged manufacturers by a tariff policy, made internal commerce free, aided the develop- ment of transportation facilities by land grants and state subsidies, and stimulated agriculture by a land and homestead policy. Under such conditions and with so wise a telic policy progress was natural, aided as it was by the growth of general intelligence and democratic forms of government. But there is a genetic aspect also in our development, when forethought was lacking. We failed to under- Lack of stand the profound social changes involved social fore- in the utilization of steam and electricity t oug t. ag p 0wer ^ anc j m t ne enormous productive capacity of new machinery. When Lancashire cotton mills using steam, for example, began to demand cot- ton in ever-increasing quantity, the South, with its soil suited for cotton, and the cotton-gin supplied by Eli Whitney, lacked only labor to satisfy the demand. Then if ever a foresighted policy was needed so as to induce the immigration of European agricultural la- borers, and to stimulate the invention of improved machinery suited for the plantation. A telic policy failing, the path of least resistance lay in the direction of the illegal importation of slaves and in the systematic breeding of a negro stock. The rigidity of a constitu- tion, amended with too great difficulty, prevented a legislative remedy, and in consequence there came a 276 SOCIOLOGY century of strife, a civil war, and a permanent negro problem. Racially speaking, the country lost a million of its males by war and disease, reduced correspondingly the proportion of its native stock, and has one eighth of its population made up of a race that, however capable it may prove itself, cannot be absorbed by amalgamation without serious danger to racial vigor. A similar illustration may be found in respect to immigration. 1 As long as land was abundant and The problem immigrants were Celtic or Teutonic, there of im- was the wise telic policy of an open door migration. an( j eag y na t U ralization. When an influx of immigration from the Orient threatened, it was wisely barred out because of its lower standards of living and the impossibility of assimilation. But foresight failed when there came a demand for unskilled labor to be massed at industrial centers. Slight attempts only were made to regulate the number and quality of immigrants, or to provide suitable agencies for their speedy absorption into American civilization. The burden of this was thrown on the public schools, which failed for the most part to meet the occasion, since they supplied merely rudimentary knowledge to the children and rarely any training for adults. Then too by mingling the races in the schools the cultural stand- ards of the native stock were somewhat lowered. This influx of alien population of inferior civilization has had its usual consequences: there is a poorly paid, 1 For numerous references on these subjects see R. H. Edwards. "Studies in American Social Conditions," Pamphlet 2 on the Negro Problem, Pamphlet 3 on Immigration. THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 277 unskilled proletariat, steeped in misery, and abound- ing in inevitable vice and crime; a stratum of native stock defeated in competition because of their com- petitors' lower standards of living, and depressed in general morals; another stratum of native stock com- mitting race suicide so as to maintain high social stand- ards; and a middle class recruited from the most energetic of the alien stock and intermarrying. Fortu- nately the evils of this situation are not necessarily per- manent. A telic policy may strengthen regulations in respect to the admission and naturalization of immi- grants ; may scatter them more widely over the country so as to avoid overcrowding and excessive competition; may develop special agencies so as to hasten the process of Americanization; and by better education may push the younger generation, at least, out of the unskilled into skilled occupations. 1 Racial amalgamation between these races and the native stock is inevitable after a few gen- erations, and the future American will have in his veins a strong infusion of Romance and Slavic blood, adding thereby imaginative qualities to the somewhat prosaic Anglo-Saxon mind. In the economic world, had the natural influence of scientific knowledge on invention in respect to produc- tion, transportation and labor, been foreseen, problems soc i et y might by telically devised regulations at the beginnings of these economic move- ments, have avoided the evils of monopolistic tenden- cies, wild speculation in necessities, and the degradation 'See "Race Improvement in the United States," Annals, July, 1909, Philadelphia. 278 SOCIOLOGY of an unskilled proletariat of industrial workers only partly checked as yet by child-labor and factory legis- lation. The development of corporations, syndicates and trusts, is another illustration of a genetic growth hardly retarded by telic foresight, which so far has failed to regulate what, like the bottled jinn of the Arabian Nights, was easily controllable in its beginnings, but now has become giant-like in its proportions. Here again a static constitution in a -dynamic age has proved a serious impediment to a proper system of regulation. So likewise the movement of population toward the city might have been studied in its earlier stages and wiser provisions devised for the government and health of municipalities, so as to avoid the crime, vice and pauperism so largely due to civic ignorance. Unques- tionably, also, the failure of cities to take into account the growing demand for breathing spaces, parks and playgrounds, and a scientifically planned system of streets, is already increasing the burden -of taxation. Here again forethought when land was cheap would have saved much later expense. Even our system of general education, which came as the result of telic policy, might have been vastly The prob- improved, with untold benefits to civiliza- lem of tion, had educational systems kept pace education. with educational knowledge. Nearly all of our great educational theories were devised before 1850, and throughout the nineteenth century many model schemes of wiser education were experimented on, from that of Robert Owen at New Lanark to the Armour Institute of Technology at Chicago. Education has not THIO ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 279 yet met the expectation of early enthusiasm because of the incompetence of school boards, and because of the excessive conservatism in the administrative systems, and in the training of teachers; but the times are ripen- ing for a larger education that will advance our civiliza- tion far beyond its present attainment. Society is de- manding that the people generally be more thoroughly instructed, that they may be able to utilize the latest discoveries of science. It is needless to multiply illustrations of this sort, every well-informed person can readily contrast for him- self the economy of a telic policy, and the J 1 ®. 6 °,- a waste of genetic activity. 1 There are, how- telic policy. ° J ' ever, certain sociological teachings which, rightly understood and applied, may aid society in the formation of a telic policy looking toward the elimina- tion of social defects. At least the statement of these teachings may suggest the general direction in which society must look, if it would lighten its present heavy burden of taxation and misery. It is obvious, for instance, that a courageous opti- mism is one of the most essential qualifications for socio- logical usefulness. Pessimism and fatalism Socia ope- are deadly g j ng anc j fi nc [ no justification in fulness. . . . present social conditions. Fatalism is the at- titude of the savage, the creature of an environment he can neither understand nor control. Pessimism char- 1 The Pittsburgh Survey in its statement of conditions well illus- trates a genetic growth, and the suggestions of experts, a telic policy. See Charities, Jan. 2, Feb. 6, March 6, 1909. The Survey »f June 5, 1909 (formerly Charities), is devoted to a civic plan for the Boston of 1915. 280 SOCIOLOGY acterizes those who only understand conditions without knowing remedies. Civilization gives one the power both to comprehend and to utilize his environment sufficiently to see the possibilities of future achievement. Furthermore, while social conditions are bad enough at present, they have been much worse, and to-day the means of improvement are at hand. In place of despair and apathy sociology urges hopefulness and energy because the forward movement of civilization is working toward improvement and human happiness. For this reason it is idle to mourn over past errors and present deficien- cies. Real humanity is shown by forgetting the past and turning resolutely toward improvement. One can dwell on the sins and suffering of society until he becomes morbid, or, on the other hand, he can trace the remark- able development of humanity from the brute to the man, and see the steps whereby he may free himself more fully from the bondage of hampering conditions. The first essential, therefore, is to look at society with hopeful insight, so as to see the germ of better things unfolding into a happier civilization. It is also essential to think of social energy quite as the engineer may consider the power in his engine, control of Understood and guided, it performs useful social work. Uncontrolled or ignorantly guided, energy. -^ ma y ^ Q un t ld damage. Society has inherited from earlier centuries a notion that human passions and desires, which unitedly make up social energy, are essentially evil. The truer view is that they are essentially neither good nor bad, but un- der proper conditions tend toward goodness since THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 281 they lead men on to activity and achievement. A socially wise policy is not to suppress or weaken these powerful human forces, but to study how best to strengthen and guide them into useful directions. Social control scientifically applied, and general intelligence through right education, would rid society of much of the enormous waste of social energy, now perverted into anti-social directions or latent because of lack of proper opportunity. Social forces implicit in men's de- sires and ambitions, should be studied as carefully as the physicist studies electricity; and social Edisons must show how society may utilize these forces for con- structive activity. Such a policy necessitates the disappearance of tabu civilization, and a movement toward higher planes of social life indicated by regulative and con- of'th^tabu s t ruc tive stages of social activity. In low civilization life is made up of fear and misery, relieved by occasional moments of physical pleasure. As man advances in civilization his nervous system develops, becomes finer and more acute, until we have nature's crowning achievement, the human brain. But the finer the nervous system the greater is the possi- bility of pain, so that a highly developed human being may suffer physically and mentally far more acutely than a savage. On the other hand, his capacity for i enjoyment is correspondingly increased, and the happi- ness which arises from the satisfaction of cultural or psychical desires, becomes a permanent possession through the memory. A highly developed person, too, through scientific knowledge knows how to avoid many 282 SOCIOLOGY pains and also how to enlarge the scope of his happiness by social and cultural enjoyment, permanent and ele- vating in its nature. In consequence mankind is pass- ing from an age of pain into an age of happiness. Man is, in a word, progressing from a system of social pro- hibitions to a system of inducements to activity and suggestions offered by the capable as to the best meth- ods of attaining ambitions. In place of forced labor and compulsory education will come a love of exertion and a joy in adding to one's knowledge. Such a cri- terion is a real test of civilization, enabling one to decide whether a suggested policy is in the line of progress or is a return to the inferior methods of low civiliza- tion. Again, civilization strengthens, not weakens man's physical and psychical nature. One often hears that civilization civilisation develops a type of man aged at is con- forty and a nervous wreck at fifty. This of structive. course j s no t true civilization, but a civiliza- tion in which social energy has been highly stimu- lated without being regulated by scientific knowledge, nor directed into the most useful channels by right edu- cation. Energy is too often centered on a single line of activity and needs to be switched off into many-sided interests. High civilization should be the human aspect of the principle of the survival of the fit. Social environ- ment should be so adjusted that those who best adapt themselves to it and survive will be the best types of humanity. In piracy he who can rob most successfully and murder with the least compunction is suited to the environment and survives as leader. In a vicious slum THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 283 the thief, the tough and the harlot are fittest to survive under the conditions, and the moral man or woman is unfit. In the field of poorly paid labor he who can toil longest and hardest for the least wage survives. Yet in no one of these three cases of survival is humanity ex- alted. Society must itself develop for its citizens an environment that will call out the strongest and best in them and that will slowly eliminate weakness of all sorts, and incapacity for high civilization. Thus the wisdom of a social policy may also be tested by noting whether a suggested reform would tend to build up or destro} r physical and cultural capacity. Nature elimi- nates by savage extermination and endless suffering. Social elimination, as it becomes perfect, will be accom- plished by making the weak strong. It will take pre- cautions that there be no needless multiplication of the weak, and see to it that the strong are not weakened by conditions of environment. Since high civilization de- pends on strong individualities for its continuance, its conscious aim is always to build up in the weak, if pos- sible, strong bodies and powerful minds. Whatever, therefore, weakens in our present civilization is socially evil, since social goodness implies social capacity and strength. It thus becomes evident that sociology resists a teaching which fixes attention on the individual to the exclusion of his environment. The, corre- leadershi sponding error in concentrating attention on the environment to the neglect of the indi- vidual is a far safer blunder. Attention given to indi- viduals to the neglect of environment may result in the 284 SOCIOLOGY saving of the elect, but in the damnation of the many. Emphasis on improvement of social environment will result in raising the mass, at the expense of the exalta- tion of the predatory few. But sociology would em- phasize as a social fundamental that environment which would call to the front its best citizens and stimulate them by placing in their hands opportunities for social service. The process of socialization is difficult and con- trary to crude human nature. Society must build up through social control and education a type of mind that will become individualistic through social service. He who would rule must first obey ; whoever aspires to lead- ership must first be a slave. Social leadership must be based on a comprehension of social needs and a willing- ness to serve them. Men become socialized as they cease to war against society, or to fight for a narrow interest as against a greater, and as they acquire a keener insight into the essential harmony of personal and social interests. 1 Sociology, in looking forward hopefully to the gradual elimination of social degeneracy, is conscious that no Elimination immediate solution of the problem is possible, of social even while it insists on the actual initiation weakness. Q £ & ^^ c p Jj C y f or ^hat en( J j n soc i a l activ- ity. Skill comes through practice, and society should use what knowledge it already has, learning to im- prove it by later experience and reflection. The essen- 1 For a careful study of movements looking toward "industrial betterment," see Wm. H. Tolman's "Social Engineering," "A record of things done by American Industrialists employing up- ward of one and one-half million of people." THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 285 tial thing is that society should become confident of ultimate success. Religion teaches of a good time com- ing when justice and peace shall prevail; Utopians have regularly assumed the banishment of social evils from their ideal commonwealths; and science is now pre- pared to cooperate with sociological philosophers and prophets in perfecting the means toward that end. Un- fortunately the man of the street is more inclined to assume that social vice and evil are permanent phe- nomena, the price of existence and civilization. Indeed there are persons who would extinguish them by the radical remedy of reducing civilization to its lowest terms. 1 A return to primitive conditions and the simple life would probably banish the largest part of social degeneration, but human nature on the whole prefers the present with its evils to the Arcadian bliss of Rous- seau's state of nature. Many of the evils to which society is subject are really due to social progress. Had man remained a savage without achievement, there would be no social evils of which to complain. There would be physical pain, but man would neither have the wit to comprehend his own wretchedness nor ca- pacity to add other evils than nature's to his portion. Social evils arise because the intellect of man enables him to pander to bodily appetites and to further his selfish interests. Yet the remedy should be sought in greater intelligence, not by reversion to primitive stu- pidity. The evils developed by an imperfect civiliza- tion should disappear with greater knowledge, just as 1 Note, for example, that attractive volume of Edward Carpen- ter's, "Civilization, Its Cause and Cure." 286 SOCIOLOGY the physical diseases of urban life will banish with progress in biological science. In the following pages tentative suggestions will be made in respect to sociological methods of attacking social evils. All would agree that among these should be classed ignorance, exploitation, pauperism, crime, sexual immorality and intemperance. Each of these will briefly be examined in turn, and attention called to possible methods looking toward their elimination. CHAPTER XVI THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS (Continued) I. Ignorance In the beginnings of civilization there were practi- cally no ignorant persons in the community. The in- evitable differences in individual amounts ignorance ^ j^ now i ec {o- e we re slight, as the little knowl- is relative. ° ° ' edge existent was simple, comprehensible and open to all. But as the total amount of knowledge increased, as skill in the arts developed, and men began to philosophize about nature and its manifestations of energy, it became less and less possible for one person to master the knowledge unitedly held by the mem- bers of society, so that each individual acquired merely that part of it needed for his special purposes. When theoretical knowledge beca'me important through the growth of a leisure class devoted to reflection, this knowl- edge became professional and was the privilege of the few. Naturally, therefore, as knowledge increased, it passed into the possession of specialized industries and professions, and each person acquired for himself only what he needed for use. In addition to this each per- son acquired some general knowledge from his social environment, varying in amount according to his men- tal capacity and the breadth of his environment. In 287 288 SOCIOLOGY later centuries this general knowledge, definitely im- parted as cultural information, makes up a large part of education. Again, as democracy gains ground, it is deemed essential that each person be trained in civic knowledge, in order that he may become a more useful citizen. As still broader theories of self-development gain foothold within society, a person may be given in- creasingly greater educational opportunities in order that he may telically build up his body and mind, and acquire a deeper insight into human problems. Every normal person, therefore, in a well-organized society, will obtain knowledge of his business, some knowledge for general social and civic purposes, and perhaps some also for purposes of mental enlargement. Now in static civilization with its fixed institutions and occupations, the average person acquires the knowl- ignorance a e< ^S e needed for his sphere of life, and tech- social nically is well informed even though he may an icap. nQ ^ ^yq the general knowledge possessed by the community. In this sense one may speak of a laborer, a mechanic or a merchant as educated, if he understands his owft business. But in a dy- namic age, especially if it is also democratic, a new distinction creeps in. Men move into a larger circle than that about their own occupations; they are part of a complex civic and social organization; enterpris- ing members are moving upward and the unenterpris- ing downward. Hence the person who acquires the larger general civic and cultural knowledge becomes, other things being equal, more suited to the conditions of life and is educated, as against another who is igno- THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 289 rant because he failed for some reason to attain this larger knowledge. Again, as the person educated is presumably fit for the higher demands of society, he is commended; but his fellow who failed to make a similar attainment is condemned because he is not ca- pable of satisfying those demands. Furthermore, the ignorant, being unfit for higher demands, are, according to the Darwinian explanation, in process of elimina- tion. They receive accordingly a wretched wage, are poorly housed, are victims of disease, and fail to guide their children intelligently in so complex a civilization. Ignorance, therefore, becomes a matter of real impor- tance to society; in the one case the individual is forced into conditions that push always toward ultimate ex- termination; and in the other, society becomes bur- dened with an ever-increasing dead weight of apathetic humanity. Now if ignorance, incapacity and viciousness meant the same thing, society should for its own sake hasten Social policy nature's methods and free itself from this toward unendurable load as soon as possible; but ignorance. -^ Qn ^ q^qy hand, incapacity and vicious- ness are largely due to ignorance, and ignorance is remediable, then social policy should aim to banish ignorance, at least in its worst forms. This is the policy definitely adopted in democracies, which for freedom's sake banish censorship over speech and thought and make all knowledge accessible through the press. Society has turned with telic purpose toward education, and is bent on making ignorance an impos- sibility. Recognizing that individuals, as such, cannot 290 SOCIOLOGY under the conditions of life be depended on to become widely intelligent, the state is committed throughout western civilization to a policy of general compulsory education. The chief difficulty heretofore has been to decide how best to banish the worst forms of ignorance. At first it was assumed that a knowledge of language and arithmetic were sufficient, on the naive assumption that a person equipped with these would obtain other knowledge also. This theory is rapidly disappearing through disappointment at results. The movement now is to furnish increasingly broader knowledge; and the surest prophecy a sociologist can make is that a progressive society must devote itself more and more to education, enlarging the "school population," and rely- ing increasingly for social progress on the quality of education given to its members. Society, therefore, through books, magazines and newspapers, through lec- tures and cultural institutions and associations of all sorts, as well as through school and family, is devoting itself to the task of giving to its citizens industrial and technical instruction, knowledge of civic duties, a scien- tific comprehension of the simple principles of hygiene, sanitation and dietetics, and opportunities to acquire the elements of cultural knowledge. Formidable as this list of knowledge may seem, it easily can become a common possession, and in many communities wider education of this sort is already a matter of course. It remains for society to systematize and enlarge this knowledge, and to insist that every person be given the opportunity, in fact as well as in theory, to get a vigorous grasp of the knowledge society has acquired THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 291 from past generations and is increasing by its own efforts. It is of course an error to assume that if such an edu- cational system were in thorough working order, social evils would thereby be eliminated. Economic condi- tions are also a determining factor in social life, and in some respects the most powerful. But if good eco- nomic conditions are supplemented by a real education, made general, one would not be rash in arguing that the basis for a right civilization at last existed, and that from henceforth the evils in social life would grad- ually disappear. II. Exploitation The Darwinian principle of natural selection has made men familiar with the fact that exploitation is a uni- versal principle. In its simple meaning the Natural ex- worc j j s a synonym for utilization, but in ploitation. ^ j its more common recent meaning it implies utilization for selfish or illegitimate purposes. This might take place in almost any social activity, but as it is found chiefly in economic life, attention will be devoted solely to that form of exploitation. One might poetically think of the sun or the earth as exploiting smaller bodies that come within the circle of attraction; or of a plant as exploiting the soil and the air; or of an animal as exploiting plants or other animals as food. When men first exploited their fellows in canni- balism, they were like animals, and felt no moral tur- pitude as they murdered their victims and consumed their bodies as food. Indeed, when cannibalism came 292 SOCIOLOGY within the realm of morals, it was as a commendable act involving additional social prestige. Yet as social- ization developed, cannibalism became evil, so that men to-day shudder at the very thought of using a human body as food. In the same way piracy, highway rob- bery and slaveholding, the second historic form of human exploitation, have ceased to be honorable occu- pations. Slave-hunting was a socially approved occu- pation in advanced civilization almost to the nineteenth century, and slaveholding was the mark of aristocracy in the South down to the Civil War. It is a question whether even yet the human conscience is really opposed to slavery itself, and not rather to certain aspects of it, as, for example, the market, the auction block and the compulsory dissolution of family ties. Still no one doubts that this form of exploitation and its half sisters, serfdom and peonage, are destined to disappear before the developing humanitarianism of the age. In passing from cannibalism to slavery and to serf- dom and peonage, the movement was from an exploi- tation for food purposes to exploitation for xp oitation econom j c profit. The real question involved for profit. r ^ was, which system on the whole is* more profitable; so that the movement from slavery to emancipation the world over is economic as well as sentimental. One may feel fairly sure that slavery would not have become serfdom or peonage, nor would this have developed into a wage system, unless society as a whole, in Europe and in the Americas, had found it economically worth while to make the change. Slav- ery would in any case have disappeared from the South THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 293 in time, had it not been forced out by war, just as serf- dom died out in Europe and slavery passed into peon- age in many parts of Latin America. If this be admitted, it is evident that even when the wage system with nominal freedom superseded Exploitation ^ ne °lder forms of economic servitude, the of the spirit of exploitation remained unchanged, but manifested itself through slightly differ- ent machinery. The reason for this is clear: exploita- tion of one's fellows is a natural process. All nature exploits, as already explained; natural selection and genetic human history are one long series of exploita- tions. When a leisure class made up of nobility and professional classes developed, its members naturally assumed that they were to be supported by the masses, just as in Plato's "Republic" he assumes as a matter of course that the intelligent citizens are to be supported by the rest of the population, arguing, as did Aristotle 1 when he classified slaves among farm implements along with cattle, and declared that mechanics and trades- men are incapable of virtue since they lack under- standing. As long as one class of people is convinced that it is superior to another through birth, the pos- session of wealth or intelligence, the natural tendency is toward exploitation; and under natural conditions the stronger will prey on the weaker, taking whenever profit is at stake, all possible advantage of weakness. This is natural law and natural tendency, and from the standpoint of genetic development it is right. Hence in any system of natural ethics one cannot but argue ! In his "Politics." 294 SOCIOLOGY with the individualist in favor of a dominant race, a great state, a superior class, a superman. Might is right, and the god of nature is regularly on the side of the heaviest cannon. The sword of Brennus deter- mines the amount of ransom, and Bismarck's, "great- est possible weight of blood and iron," and the "might which antedates right," agree with Machiavelli in pro- claiming the true basis of the moral law of nature. Yet the thoughtful part of mankind has never rested satisfied with a system of exploitation. First kinship Restraints softened its sternness by inculcating sym- on ex- pathy within the kin; then Stoicism came p oitation. w j^| 1 jj. g Cachings f an eternal justice and a world humanity, while Buddhism in the East, and Christianity in the West, advocated an ideal of human brotherhood. On these foundations society has, in opposition to natural morals, adopted a telic ethical policy, and demands that men base their dealings on humanitarian principles; and religion goes even farther by insisting that special assistance be given to the weaker members of society. Unfortunately, in prac- tice this ideal is far from realization. The principle of humanitarianism is contrary to the natural disposition of man. Society by moral injunction and by law seeks to enforce its standards, but has failed to educate the average man to respect them. Hence the natural man, relying on his power of wealth or position, calmly ignores or evades the law, complying, perhaps, with the letter of it while violating its spirit. This is shown in "high finance," in the relations of capital and labor, in the moral standards of buying and selling, in the THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 295 relations of skilled and union labor to unskilled and non-union labor, and generally in a system that per- mits the burden and misery of society to fall to the lot of those least able to shift it. Such abuses are inevitable as long as there is igno- rance of social conditions and a general apathy in respect to social aims. Nothing under present con- interest in c |j t j ons j^ broader education and class strug- social aims. ° gles will bring about a change. It is no easy task to transform men's natures. Religion alone can- not do it, nor a legal system unsupported by public opinion. While class struggle is therefore inevitable, wiser education would soften its bitterness and place it on the higher plane of arbitration and compromise. Our legal system with its procedure is "fearfully and wonderfully made," and must be simplified when law- yers become jurists, and legislators, statesmen. Mean- while racial experience shows that when education enables men to see their desires clearly, society will proceed to eliminate exploitation according to the three natural stages of action, 1 exemplified in statute books: first, the meaner forms of exploitation, e. g. cheating and swindling, should be sternly repressed by speedy and suitable punishment, so as to eliminate from the modern economic world persons whose morals belong too far back in civilization to entitle them to a place there; secondly, persons of average morality, who in business dealings incline in either an honorable or dis- honorable direction, according to environment, should be carefully regulated by law, and stimulated by public 1 See page 147. 296 SOCIOLOGY opinion to conduct their economic activities in harmony with the newer moral standards; and thirdly, the real emphasis should as rapidly as possible be placed on the sociological principle that men must be led by their own interests to conform to high standards of honor. This is the trend at the present time, and examples immediately occur to one, showing how eager persons are becoming to satisfy higher demands for fair dealing in business. The state might well set the example by making three fundamental alterations: by a thorough readjustment of its system of taxation, which under present conditions is an excellent illustration of exploi- tation under the form of law; by a vigorous reorganiza- tion of its civil and criminal law, which at present allows great scope for exploitation; and by a revision of its system of public education, which sends forth into eco- nomic life four-fifths of its toilers trained only to become fit subjects for exploitation because of ignorance. If these three fundamental departments were overhauled by the state, other changes, now slowly developing, would much sooner become vigorous and dominant. The present tendency is to regard parasitism in all of its forms as socially wrong. Men are born to labor, and neither man nor woman should assume that Social para- ^ e Qr ^ - g j right of birth or inheritance sitism. J ° free from social obligation. If any will not work, neither let him eat," l is a social principle that is becoming a democratic ideal. When millionaires' sons begin to don overalls, and their daughters to prepare for vocations, it needs no prophet to foresee the time 1 II Thessalonians iii, 10, revised version. THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 297 when parasitism will become unpopular and labor hon orable. In this same spirit is the modern movement to arouse the employees' interest in their work, so as to substi- tute for a mechanical and clock- watching slav- u ° lty ° ery, the joy in work and product for which William Morris stood. On the other hand should be noted the reciprocal acknowledgments of employers that employees are not merely hands, but heads and hearts besides, vitally interested in the busi- ness, and that their special interests should be consulted as a matter of self-interest. Finally should be observed the present leanings toward another ideal of economic organization, in which sharp distinctions between mas- ter and man will disappear, as both see themselves laboring for common ends and joint interests, and mutual trust succeeds suspicion and exploitation. There are already in the economic world many illustrations of such relationships, where all employees work "on honor," and are kept keyed by the tone of public opinion in the shop or the factory. It is no easy task to prevent men from exploiting their fellows, and should the time ever come when through telic policy men recognize their kinship, fostering their weaker brothers, society may well claim that as its crowning achievement. In that happier time men will still exploit, but the word will have lost its secondary meaning, and will resume its older definition of utilization; nature and human capacity will be exploited by man to build up the larger interests of humanity. 298 SOCIOLOGY III. Pauperism The discussion of the two previous topics naturally suggests the sociological treatment of the present sub- ject. An appreciation of the significance of economic and educational remedies is fundamental to any socio- logical understanding of society's great defects. This is more evident in the case of pauperism than in crime or vice, for the connection between poverty and igno- rance is obvious. In primitive conditions naturally there was no pau- perism, and poverty was honorable since all were poor. Property was communal and private wealth Poverty an ^ no ^. ex j s ^ Private property in foods and pauperism. . land, civil law guarantying and regulating property rights, and the rise of a leisure exploiting class, are the three agencies that brought the problems of poverty and pauperism into the world. Properly speak- ing, poverty is a relative term and exists only by com- parison with higher standards. A millionaire is poor to a multi-millionaire, and a man of moderate salary is wealthy to a low-wage earner. Socially speaking, pov- erty exists when the annual income is near or below the usual social standards of common comfort and decency, and pauperism exists when persons need regu- larly to have their earnings or incomes eked out by public or private doles. Pauperism, therefore, may exist in wealthy circles as well as at the bottom of the economic scale, so that one might speak of the poor and pauperized of the wealthy or middle classes, as well as of the poverty-stricken proletariat. Theoretically it is better, in speaking of those in poverty or pauperism, THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 299 to bar out those who. by reason of youth or old age, or physical or mental incapacity, are not capable of per- forming some kind of useful service. By common consent dependency due to age or incapacity is entitled to aid, and obtains it in varying degree from family or society. Still the destiny of such is united with those who b> kinship or authority are their natural supporters, and the distinction for practical purposes may be disregarded. Under a system of genetic selection society should pay no attention to problems of poverty and pauper- ism; and alms, if given at all, should be Social ' . , . , . attitude looked on as unwise altruism deserving even toward social censure. For under natural condi- pauperism. ,. . ., - , , tions poverty prevails; a lew struggle to- ward wealth and ease, others fail in the competition, and properly should die of hunger or its attendant evils. It is natural selection, and human experience voices it in the theory that war or cut-throat competition is the natural state of man. The socializing process is seen first when the kin or the brotherhood began to assume responsibility for those of their own blood, and wealthier men began to have "poor relations." Then religion, philanthropic agencies, and finally the state, took part in it one by one, as the struggle for existence became keener and humanitarianism grew stronger. At present society is so sensitive to human suffering, and so altru- istic, that the burden of its obligations in respect to charity is becoming too onerous, and the system will surely collapse by its own weight whenever a severe social crisis develops in the form either of a disastrous war or a severe financial panic. 300 SOCIOLOGY It would be possible to argue that charity in its nu- merous forms is on the whole socially injurious. 1 Large charity amounts of money and human energy of a socially high grade are annually devoted to pallia- mjurious. ^ yQ an( j s t a ti ca l methods of charity, in sad comparison with the small amount devoted to pre- ventive and remedial measures. The system reminds one of a busy housewife vigorously expending time and energy in wiping up the water from an open tap, but failing in her excitement to turn off the tap itself. Charity workers of all sorts are well agreed that the real causes back of poverty and pauperism are (1) the lack of steady work the year round; (2) sickness through ignorance, wretched housing and food, and pre- ventable injuries in business; (3) vice, largely a product of environment; and (4) general ignorance of knowl- edge needful in home life and occupation. Now if one were to assume as a matter of theory that the money, labor and consecrated devotion at present expended in charity were diverted for even a limited term of years to efforts for the removal of these conditions, and the creation of a public opinion against them, unquestion- ably a large part of the present need would be eliminated. No such telic policy of course could be put into immedi- ate operation, but the possibility of such a policy should be taken into account, and the worst features of the present system eliminated one by one. For example, the state insurance system of Germany, supplemented by excellent schools, organized charity and municipal 1 For an excellent argument of this sort see Sumner's "What Social Classes Owe to Each Other." THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 301 functioning, is rapidly freeing that state from pauper- ism and the worst features of poverty. Poverty as such is an international problem, the problem of a whole civilization, and all that can be expected from a given government under present conditions is that it keep the standard of living fairly decent, and devote atten- tion to the elimination of conditions below the standard. So far as fundamental conditions are- concerned, the chief remedies have already been indicated. If indus- trial conditions can be bettered by wise regu- lation, and careful oversight maintained over remedies. ° the conditions of labor, and if steady employ- ment can be rendered more and more possible, and undue competition and exploitation reduced to harm- less proportions by law and opinion, the chief difficulty will have been overcome. General education will aid much in the process. Through labor organizations and through municipal regulation, the conditions of labor and living will be improved so that unnecessary sick- ness and injuries will be eliminated. As public intelli- gence develops and demands civic improvement, better housing, sanitation and a knowledge of domestic eco- nomics will build up stronger bodies as a basis for the better training of the mind. Then society will look upon its entire burden of charity as an "old man of the seas," an incubus to be shaken off as soon as pos- sible. Curiously enough, society now smiles approval at the establishment of a new asylum or hospital, but begrudges the money for improved schools or for scien- tific experiments looking toward the elimination of dis- ease. When, on the other hand, it deliberately multi- 302 SOCIOLOGY plies its educational agencies, lops off its charities one by one, cancels the charters of "benevolent" institu- tions as they cease to be needed, and prevents accidents by safety devices, then society may claim to have reached a condition of telic progress. Altruistic energy in that case will be devoted to progressive movements, aiming to build up the cultural standards of the race, instead of expending itself in an effort to perform a constantly increasing task on a relatively decreasing income. The fundamental social aim should of course be to abolish pauperism in its entirety. No economic system t>o„v,„^o^ should rest satisfied with a condition in which Pauperism should be physically capable men and women are sup- abois e . p 0r ^ e d without corresponding exertion on their own part. Farm colonies, labor colonies, indus- trial training, all such agencies should be utilized to free society from its parasites. The case of dependent children, the aged and the sick is different, and agen- cies for the prevention of such dependency are essential. The chief remedies here, again, are improved economic conditions and education. Few children would be dependent if fathers earned a living wage, and occupa- tional accidents were reduced to a minimum. Poverty in itself is not an evil if a fair standard of living is assured, permanent employment tolerably cer- Poverty ^ am > anc ^ P ro P er facilities available for the should be health, comfort and education of children, lessened. j t - g not j^y t ^ at soc i e ty for centuries will eliminate poverty, but it can conceivably banish pauperism and the strenuous conditions of poverty, THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 303 so as to lessen the strain of a low-wage system. Any one at all familiar with the conditions of hard- working families, marvels at their skill in household economics and their devotion to one another and to their weaker neighbors. Some of the very best achieve- ments in human character are to be found among the poor, who need but better opportunities to become our most capable and reliable citizens. Every precaution should be taken to prevent such persons from being forced into pauperism, for when once that taint of passive helplessness, or an eagerness for parasitic sup- port, gets into the blood, degeneracy is inevitable. To the worthy poor, society owes sympathy and jus- tice; to the desperately poor, a helping hand and wider opportunities; to the pauperized, self-reproach, pity, but a policy of elimination; uplifting if possi- ble, otherwise segregating, preventing reproduction of kind. Charity on the other hand should not be looked on as a high form of altruism; the better opinion of the age fights against that view of it. Charity, as chanty no alms-giving, is a temporary remedy, useful in backward, but obnoxious in higher civiliza- tion. The highly developed intuitively shrink from charity and prefer starvation or suicide as an alternative. Such feelings deserve to be fostered; they should not be stamped out by well-meaning but ignorant persons who give charity instead of intelligent service toward the re- moval of the causes for the need of it. The time was when men asked for bread and received a stone; now they ask for work and receive bread. Of the two, the 304 SOCIOLOGY gift of bread is worse than the hurling of the stone. Fraternity and social justice are the proper gifts to those who need both food and kindness. 1 IV. Crime Strange as it may seem, crime is sociologically con- sidered a more hopeful social phenomenon than pauper- ism. If the essential basis for social activity Crime an jg vigorous personality, a criminal represents ambigTious ... term. a higher type than an inert pauper, whose chief characteristic is passivity. Even the crime of the one class may socially be better than the vice of the other. In such studies of heredity as the "Jukes," 2 it is noted that the stronger strains of a de- generate stock turn to crime, and the weaker to pauper- ism and sexual vice. Criminality also may be looked on as a sort of atavism, a survival from former ages when murder and robbery outside one's family or clan were considered honorable. Many of our criminals would have been " leading citizens" a few centuries back, and 1 Works on charity are very numerous, but excellent bibliogra- phies may be found in Henderson and in Warner (below), and in R. H. Edwards, "Studies in American Social Conditions," Pam- phlet 5. The following references are given as typical of recent publications: Addams, Jane, "Newer Ideals of Peace"; Chapin, Robert Coit, "The Standard of Living Among Workingmen's Families in New York"; Conyngton, Mary, "How to Help"; Devine, Edward T., "Misery and Its Causes"; Henderson, Chas. R., "Modern Methods of Charity"; Kelley, Florence, "Some Ethical Gains through Leg- islation"; Lee, Joseph, "Constructive and Preventive Philan- thropy"; Loch, C. S. (editor), "Methods of Social Advance " ; War- ner, Amos G., "American Charities." * By R. Dugdale. THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 305 extolled in legend like Robin Hood or Dick Turpin; just as some of our leading citizens to-day may in the next century be considered as criminals. Theft was once a civil offense, and the duel and the feud, to say nothing of lynching, meet with public approval in some parts of western civilization. It is a question whether the crimes of capitalistic speculation and exploitation are in public opinion social offenses, or exhibitions of shrewd- ness deserving of approval. 1 Theft to the thief is a sort of lex talionis. He considers that he has been exploited by society, and he exploits another's property as com- pensation for his own injuries. It would be possible by Nietzschean philosophy to glorify historically murder, theft and seduction on the basis of a higher law, the law of might; excellent authority could be found for it also in Machiavelli, in individualistic philosophy and in the argument that the means is justified by the end. 2 In common opinion crime depends on the amount of it. The greater the crime the more the tendency to condone ; and, inversely, punishment is relatively severer for petty offenses. Treason was the only legal crime in early civilization, other matters being left to private settlement. Then Crime in crimes against the person were taken one by its de- one under civic cognizance as being against veiopment. ^ p eace> anc i [ n comparatively late ages crimes against property became public offenses. Many a person is even yet in doubt as to whether offenses against his honor or that of his family should 1 Read, e. g. E. A. Ross, "Sin and Society." 2 See Ragnor Redbeard, "Might is Right." 306 SOCIOLOGY be given personal attention or referred to the courts. Corporations are comparatively new in the social world, and their property rights are not respected as are those of persons. Many a person would cheat a corporation, out of a fare for instance, who would scorn to cheat his rival in business. In short, the notion of crime is ill defined, as befits an age of transition when nations are passing from an agricultural civilization with its static conditions to a keenly competitive commercial regime. It is important, therefore, that in sociology one should abandon notions of crime conveyed by statute books and commentaries on criminal law, for these rely on the past, failing to take readily into account newer developments in civilization. If one's theory of crime is based on a study of social forces, and not on an historical emphasis on human de- pravity, it is hard to escape the conclusion Punishment ^^ cr j me j s "misdirected energy." In such for crime. °^ sociological studies of crime as those of Lom- broso and Ferri, for example, 1 the question of hereditary criminal tendency is discussed with the implied con- clusion that there is only a very small per cent of crim- inals who are instinctively vicious because of inherited tendencies. In the case of such persons the only pos- sible remedy is for society permanently to segregate them and to prevent them from propagating. If the marks of the criminal type can really be ascertained, or if certain criminals by their acts show such tendencies, nothing in the law should hinder society from perma- 1 As illustrations see Ferri, "Criminal Sociology"; Lombroso, "The Criminal"; Boies, "Science of Penology." THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 307 nently separating them from their fellows, if not by a painless death, at any rate by lifelong seclusion in suitable confinement. As for the remainder of the criminal class, writers are agreed that their criminality is altogether due to the conditions of their environment. Now sociology never argues that because a person has become criminal through environment, therefore he should be allowed to escape the penalty for his acts. Only an approximation to exact justice can be expected in an imperfect civilization. The criminal may not deserve punishment in the proper sense of the word, but irrespective of how he became so, he is a dangerous citi- zen and must be treated as such. Such treatment may involve detention, seclusion, compulsory training of some sort, perhaps even death, and some such action is socially necessary, even though there may be twinges of social remorse in the doing of it. Yet all methods of that sort ought to be considered as temporary, leading on to the larger policy of the practical elimination of crime. This should not in these days seem like a wild suggestion. No man living, nor his son, nor his son's son will see the final disappearance of crime from society, and yet each should see it grow relatively less through scientific study and wiser law. Physiological and psychological studies of abnormal man, supplemented by the Bertillon system of measure- Sociological meR t, have already been begun; from them remedies will come social oversight over degenerate or crime, gtocks, stimulation of the better members, separation and the gradual elimination of the worse, and of all habitual criminals. Social oversight over 308 SOCIOLOGY degenerate families would from every point of view 1 be one of the most profitable measures which society could take. In the second place, penologists agree that most of our criminals are potentially normal persons, who have become abnormal physically and mentally through de- fective nurture, education and lack of opportunity for advancement. This of course is mainly due to the ex- istence of unskilled, poorly paid labor, native and alien, who lack proper food, housing, social enjoyment and economic opportunity. The existence of such a class is preventable, and is a perpetual menace to higher civili- zation. Furthermore, the largest per cent of the criminal classes is made up of minors in adolescence, who at that time most of all need what they so rarely have, viz. wise guidance and cultural stimuli. The success of a wiser policy is clearly shown by the results of a proper probation system, juvenile courts, industrial and dis- ciplinary schools and reformatories for older first of- fenders. If our poorer population were given fairer opportunities in education, industrial life and social enjoyment, crime among them would be minimized. There would still remain a large class of offenses due to the condition of ethical standards. The old time Conflicting religious basis of ethics is weakening. Many ethical of the ethical teachings of the Old Testament standards. ^ least, are no longer taught as binding on the present generation, and the opinions of councils and clergy are taken at their face value only, even 'See for illustration, A. E. Winship, "Jukes-Edwards; a Study in Education and Heredity." THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 309 within the churches. On the other hand, the scien- tific basis for morality is not yet exact enough for use, and public opinion is often unable to decide between right and wrong except in the case of actions condemned or approved as the result of generations of racial expe- rience. To meet these conditions social, religious and educational agencies should devote themselves vigor- ously to the task of working out a newer ethics for newer social sins, and unitedly to develop as rapidly as possi- ble a public opinion and agencies for social control, that will guide men's ambitions toward socially ap- proved conduct. Under present conditions persons can commit crimes and retain their social respectability because public opinion is too vague. For instance, questions actually arise as to the justification or con- demnation of violence in strikes, lynching when law is incompetent, "corners" in necessities of life, bribery in politics, profits from the sale of liquors and the sale, tacit or actual, of legislative influence. All these are, of course, condemned by the moralist, but in practice are often condoned by public opinion. Until there is a reinforcement of ethical principles based on scientific teachings and standards of social utility, there will be crime due to our transitional ethics. When once these principles are formulated, the power of organized public opinion is so formidable, that men will tend voluntarily to devote their energies in safer and socially wiser directions. One of the defects of an imperfectly developed civ- ilization is that attempts to regulate or suppress supposed evil often result in an aggravation of the evil 310 SOCIOLOGY itself. 1 For instance, society has developed so vast and intricate a system of criminal law and procedure Evils of leading to the detection, trial and punish- poor ment of criminals, that with all the reform of regulation. thc lagt hundred years it is still the despair of the philosophic jurist and the admiration of every believer in circumlocution and chicanery. Law schools, like theological seminaries, seldom graduate philosophers, so that lawyers are often skilled in the details of their business, but inexpert in the simple principles of juris- prudence and penology. As judges and legislators are chosen chiefly from the membership of the bar, the same emphasis on detail and technicality manifests itself in decision and law, so that too often a legal system seems, as Dickens put it, a device for "how not to do it." 2 Unquestionably this is one cause of crime. The delays and evasions of the law, its failure to conform to newer social standards and conditions, its practical though unintentional favoritism, all combine to sap one of society's most valued achievements, reverence for and obedience to law. It is inconceivable that if society had to make anew its legal system, it would deliber- ately devise anything like the present code and pro- cedure. There is need therefore that scientific com- missions be periodically convened for the purpose of revising and simplifying the law, and that their mem- bership consist of jurists and penologists, rather than 1 The history of religious persecutions would supply many illus- trations, and see also Herbert Spencer's discussion of "The Sins of Legislators" in "The Man versus the State." 3 See, e. g. Arthur Train, "The Prisoner at the Bar." THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 311 of those engaged in criminal practice, a somewhat am- biguous term. 1 Akin to the evil arising from the technicality of law, is the hindrance due to the slow movement of penological Reforms in re f° rm s. As long as crimes were thought systems of due to innate depravity, it was natural enough punishment. tQ agsume t ^ at harsh punishment should be meted out to the offender as a sort of retaliation against a social enemy. But now, when it is believed that the great mass of criminals would be normal citizens, had society done its duty in weeding out degenerates and rightly training the young, vindictive- ness changes to pity and a desire to better the conditions of punishment. The great historical stages of this change are: the prohibition of cruel punishments, the slow passing of capital and corporal punishment, im- provement in the general treatment of criminals, and the introduction of reformatory methods even in the penitentiary. It seems evident that the trend of change is in the general sociological direction of making punish- ment a system of industrial labor and education, with disciplinary colonies, and permanent segregation of the most vicious, so as to secure the elimination of their stock. The ultimate remedy for crime itself has already been indicated. Society must not simply handle its criminals wisely, it must rearrange its manner of life so as to stop the manufacture, as it were, of a vicious population. It is a question, for example, whether 1 See Parmelee, "Anthropology and Sociology in Relation to Criminal Procedure," Chapters V-VII, inclusive, and Ferri's "Crim- inal Sociology," Chapter III. 312 SOCIOLOGY minors who commit offenses, should ever be charged as criminals, or whether they should not rather be given wise advice and disciplinary training. It is prob- able that the idea of the juvenile court, probation and the industrial school, will result in treating the offenses of minors as properly under special educational super- vision, rather than criminal jurisdiction; * while the city health department will remove one by one the vicious conditions that drive so many young persons into offenses against the law. It is also probable that per- sons charged with minor offenses such as misdemeanors and drunkenness, will cease to be considered crimi- nals; and be made either to pay civil damages or be treated through other agencies than the prison, e. g. the hospital, the industrial reformatory or the farm colony. It hardly seems Utopian to hope that society might largely free itself from crime if it would systematically s iai free- se g re g a te the hardened criminal, supervise domfrom degenerate stock, give special training to cnme - youthful and first offenders, and make steady improvement in the conditions of life, raising economic standards, and simplifying criminal law and pro- cedure. A generation of the next century may per- haps look at the ruins of our Sing Sings, with much the same feeling that a modern visitor gazes at the medieval dungeons of Europe. William Morris may not have been far wrong in dreaming of a time when criminal law had become obsolete and criminals so rare that, if a 1 See Russell and Rigby, "The Making of the Criminal"; Thomas Travis, "The Young Malefactor." THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 313 crime was committed, the offender killed himself through loneliness and remorse. It is ordinarily thought that if punishment were re- moved from the statutes, everybody would at once be- come eager to commit crime. As a matter of nme un- £ ac ^ om , cr j mma i coc i e even now applies only to a small per cent of the population. The larger part of a people are moral, and prefer to remain so because of their desire for social approbation. If popular opinion could be strengthened, and vicious con- ditions removed, it would make small difference to the great majority of the people whether there was a criminal code or not. Men naturally love to be in sympathy with their fellows, and nothing more quickly destroys the best in a man than the knowledge that he is looked on as a social outcast. The criminal's psychology is abnormal because he is in an abnormal situation. Workers like Mrs. Booth 1 make clear the fact that prisoners are human beings, longing for a something they no longer enjoy; the consciousness of being an in- tegral part of their race, working with it and for it, as every normal man should. Criminals should be social- ized, not antagonized, and the process should begin in the cradle and be particularly emphasized through the adolescent period. If our present social organization, the most prolific breeder of criminals possible, would adopt a telic policy in respect to crime, a vast amount of economic and social waste might be diverted to useful ends in society. 1 See her work, "After Prison, What? " CHAPTER XVII THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS (Continued) V. Sexual Immorality The problem of sexual immorality is one of the most serious that society has to face, and one in whose past solutions it can feel least pride. Sexual pas- method* 5 sion is a fundamental feeling, and being neces- sary for racial continuance, is not inherently evil. This passion is probably more intense in civilized man than in the savage, owing to the effects of a more stimulating diet, the use of clothing, and the develop- ment of a vivid imagination. By natural evolution, too, those in whom sexual feeling is weak tend to die out through failure to marry or through lack of descend- ants. On the other hand, the violently passionate, who fail to regulate indulgence through the intellect, tend to become degenerate through excess or disease. Under the law of survival, therefore, the human race is chiefly perpetuated by those of average or vigorous passions, who are controlled by social or personal reasons and who conform to standards of sexual indulgence set by racial experience. In past centuries the very intensity of sexual passion focalized individual and social attention on it; the dan- gers inherent in it were recognized, but the intellect 314 THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 315 in its ignorance tried to stem them by unwise meas- ures, and the results have been disastrous. One of the The social saddest pages in all social history is the record problem of of social tabu and regulation in respect to sxuaity. sexua i passions. The problem now is not simply to work out a program for the regulation of human sexuality, but also to remedy if possible the consequences of past errors. It is a subject that de- mands the most serious consideration of thoughtful humanity, for the handicap of sexual vice is far more important than the evils of intemperance, and the racial benefits that might arise from an obedient com- prehension of the laws of sexuality are incalculable. The problem from the standpoint of sociology may be stated as follows: given a fundamental feeling so power- The ful in its potential energy that it vies with problem economic cravings of all sorts as a stimulus to human activity, how to guide it into use- ful directions, while incidentally preventing it from be- coming socially harmful. Had society from the begin- ning possessed this knowledge, it might have escaped many of the evils that now are seemingly so ineradicable that, even if modern science possessed the solution, it might deem itself impotent in view of the conditions of civilization. Yet such handicaps cannot permanently retard civilization, provided only that society sees its goal and the means of attaining it. Although this problem is fundamentally of great sociological impor- tance, the study of it devolves primarily on other sciences, chiefly biology, psychology, economics and ethics; for this reason a better understanding of the problem can 316 SOCIOLOGY be obtained by looking at it from these several view- points, as aspects of a common problem. Biologically speaking, human stock should be prop- agated from the strongest physical strains, and the weaker should be eliminated as rapidly as ^ acial possible. Psychology adds that vigorous mentality also should be taken into account, and mental weaklings likewise eliminated. From this standpoint society should aim to assist nature in this elimination, by developing a powerful public opinion, placing a virtual tabu on the marriage of persons phys- ically and mentally defective, and those afflicted with contagious sexual diseases. Already public asylums segregate many defectives and prevent them from repro- duction, and if the prevalence of sexual diseases and their possible consequences were better known, mar- riage would become impossible to many immoral per- sons. If teachings of this sort were made emphatic, supported by scientific evidence, and set before the youth as embodying a standard demanded by the best social influences, a great forward step would have been taken. Again, society should develop a system whereby the better part of the population, better, i. e. in physique Modem anc ^ men tahty, would be encouraged to marry celibate and to continue their stock by geometrical classes. increase, i. e. each pair should bring to matur- ity at least four children. Here the conditions are chiefly ethical and economic. It is unfortunate that society finds it necessary to segregate for war purposes so many of its most capable males in the army and THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 317 navy; or to approve a religious system which demands celibacy from its clergy; or an educational system that insists on the celibacy of its women teachers; or an economic system which necessitates the system of early marriages and the production of large families among the poor and unskilled, and late and often childless mar- riages among the mentally energetic classes. Celibacy, when practiced by persons physically and mentally capable of marriage and intelligent parenthood, is a social misfortune, and no supposed bene- Eviis from ^ g j n re iicrj ous educational or economic life celibacy. ° ' can usually counterbalance such a social enormity. Religious, educational and economic sys- tems should cooperate with evolutionary processes in favoring the celibacy of the unfit and the marriage and parenthood of the socially fit; any system that works against this principle is prima facie wrong; and, if allowed to exist, should be able to justify itself by indisputable evidences of larger social gain to offset social loss. It is doubtful whether such a defense is possible. In addition to the social loss of a capable population, there are many serious evils involved in the celibacy of either sex. It often results in the secret practice of masturbation with its consequent weakening of physical, mental and moral fibre. It results in the development of prostitution and immoral relation- ships, multiplying disease, wrecking homes and blighting decency and the nobler ambitions. Among the more moral it often develops an abnormal condition of mind by the constant repression of natural feelings, so that one's thoughts may become coarsened by secretly and 318 SOCIOLOGY almost unconsciously dwelling on forbidden aspects of life, or by developing a mystical trend and expressing sexual emotions under the form of an abnormal relig- ious or philanthropic experience, manifested through some form of self-renunciation. It is theoretically pos- sible, of course, for celibates to remain normal, to shun evil and to perform much useful service in the world. Certainly the lives of many noble and altruistic men and women bear testimony to this fact, yet the ques- tion remains whether such sacrifices are really necessary and whether conjugal and parental feelings might not better be allowed proper expression. 1 The celibacy caused by economic and social standards affects proportionately a much larger per cent than educational and religious causes; and, being Society an more l ar gely unchecked by religious and eth- marnage. . ? . jo ical idealism, is productive of great evil. Am- bitious young men who desire to enter higher business or professional life, are compelled, if they marry at all, to postpone marriage until the earlier years of middle life. This practically means that a similar number of young women of social importance must delay their marriage a proportionate number of years. Young men must, in consequence of this retardation of marriage, either develop a high morality and resolutely maintain chastity, or else yield to habits of masturbation or temptations to prostitution, with their inevitable con- sequences. Yet society, which is definitely committed to a permanent monogamous marriage and is working toward a standard of sexual ethics binding on both sexes 1 See in Bibliography, Lea, "Sacerdotal Celibacy." THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 319 alike, neither sufficiently provides youth with motives of high morality nor shields it effectively against insid- ious temptation. Science would emphasize neither an early nor a late marriage. Educational systems, there- fore, economic incomes and social opinion should com- bine to make it possible for marriage to take place soon after the completion of the adolescent period. Up to that time social effort should be exerted to train young persons in self-control. Parent and teacher can do much through carefully taught physiological knowledge of sexuality, through emphasis on the care of the body and instruction in dietetics, and by directing the surg- ing passions of adolescence toward cultural ideals and higher ambitions. If habits of self-control are de- veloped in adolescence, they will be continued in the marriage state also, to the manifest improvement of conjugal felicity. Such a policy would involve several important changes in the present system. In the first place the tabu now Changes enjoined on discussion of sexuality should be needed in removed. It is a survival from an age when soaa po icy. gexua j ignorance had a cash value in the marriage market, or when a sexual feeling was thought to be of satanic origin, and sexuality an evil to be suppressed by castration or voluntary celibacy. It is far safer to take the scientific view, and to assume sexual passion to be a social force, which ought to be powerful so as to ensure racial vigor, but always to insist that it must be controlled and directed by the higher emotions and the intellect. Then, too, children should be taught how to care for the body and how to expend 320 SOCIOLOGY energy usefully in work, play and cultural occupations. Young men, also, would have far fewer temptations to sexual immorality if they had simpler foods, physical exercise, an outdoor life and the stimulus of esthetic and intellectual pursuits. A diversity of cultural in- terests and knowledge of physiology and of the psychol- ogy of adolescence, 1 have a highly moralizing influence. Ignorance of the facts of sexuality is one of the great causes of sexual immorality and indirectly is a chief cause of marital discord. Naturally such a change in policy would need to be supplemented by a broader general education so as to make it possible for youth to develop many cultural interests, and to enter economic life with a wiser preparation and in a better physical condition. Inevitably the state must cooperate by fur- nishing opportunities for cultural advancement, by better regulation of economic activities, and by pro- hibition of marriage for the sexually degenerate. 2 There is need of a change of idea in respect to the sanctity of individual life. Every human life is sacred in its youth and while it is struggling to Socia "make good." But society owes nothing but life-long segregation to those who persist in degrading the standards of social efficiency by their im- morality. Sexual perverts, both male and female, should be carefully culled out of social life and secluded 1 See, e. g. G. Stanley Hall, "Adolescence," 2 vols., and E. Lyttel- ton [Headmaster of Eton], "Training of the Young in the Laws of Sex." 2 See Report of the Committee of Fifteen on "The Social Evil," and note discussion of the Employment Bureau as an agency in social vice in Frances A. Kellor's "Out of Work." THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 321 permanently so as to prevent the continuance of their degenerate stock. 1 This step which now seems radical, will seem most natural when higher ideals in sexual ethics shall have become a common possession. Under the influence of an older type of religious teaching, so- ciety has too long devoted itself to the study of the sins of individuals, to the neglect of what is injurious or bene- ficial to society. The ethics of the future must pay far more attention to the sins of combinations of men, and to contagious social evils, at the same time seeking to develop a social conscience and social standards of right action. Under such a theory society would have the right to insist that persons plainly degenerate must no longer propagate their kind, nor enjoy a freedom for which they have shown themselves incapable. It is needless to say that economic conditions have a large share in sexual vice. The conditions of a poverty- Effects of stricken proletariat drive many women into economic immorality for the sake of economic support. conditions, rj^ ideals of ^^ &nd chagtity loge their attractiveness in the face of starvation. A closely packed population of both sexes in tenement, shop and mill, forms a condition in which the only wonder is that there is comparatively so little immorality and so much feminine refinement as there is. A third effect of vicious economic conditions is evident when young men of inherited wealth and few morals are turned loose to prey upon the weak or to become victims of the de- signing. A disbelief in the utility of the crop raised from "wild oats" is rapidly growing; and parents in- x See references, pp. 212, 30S. 322 SOCIOLOGY capable of training their children for social morality and utility should transfer them to the compulsory industrial school. The lesson contained in Kipling's "Captains Courageous" is one well worth the consideration of fond but foolish parents. It goes without saying that medical science also has its constructive work. 1 If sexual diseases afflicted the immoral only, it might seem but fair retri- Responsi- . *" D bilities of bution; but unfortunately, being contagious, medical ^he innocent suffer with the guilty, a suffering SCIGXLCG not simply physical but mental because of the implied suspicion. Often sexually diseased men are so low morally as to marry innocent women, who by contagion become syphilitic and hand on the taint to their children. Such men deserve the lash. Persons in such condition should refrain from marriage altogether and thus end their stock. Along with the elimination of the perverse should go the elimination of diseases, and the most loathsome and widespread of these should receive special investigation. It is an imperative ne- cessity that humanity rid itself as soon as possible of this most serious physical and moral handicap, sexual immorality and disease, which at present drags back some of the best products of our civilization toward the profligate conditions of the ancient world. Too often in current discussion it is tacitly assumed that the remedy for sexual evils depends on the attitude of the male part of humanity, and under present social conditions there is much truth in this. Yet it is proba- 1 Note, for example, P. A. Morrow, "Social Disease and Mar- riage," and Howard A. Kelly, "Medical Gynecology." THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 323 ble that the remedy ultimately will come from the sex most vitally concerned — the female, upon whom falls the burden of gestation, the danger and Woman s . . . influence on pain of delivery, and the toil and respon- se ethics sibility of nurture. Only the ignorance of barbarism, seconded by male unregulated pas- sions, could have developed the theory that in sexual relations the woman must be submissive to her husband in marriage, and out of marriage subject to male regu- lation. By analogy from the animal world, and by even a modicum of reflection, it should be manifest that in the field of sexual ethics the woman, and not the man, should dictate. As long as patriarchal conditions lasted, and women were kept in ignorance, as playthings and drudges to their lords and masters, rebellion of any sort was promptly repressed by physical punishment, and by the terrors of church and state. But the coming of democracy, along with economic flexibility and freedom, has put a different face on the matter. The marriage of barter and sale, though still common enough, is con- ventionally frowned on, and society demands that, in appearance at least, love and voluntary consent be the basis of marriage. Through economic and educational changes women are becoming free, and are less and less inclined, as they become intelligent on the subject, to marry merely for the sake of a home and support. It has become essential that women have such training and opportunity that, as an alternative to an economic mar- riage, they may be able to enter economic life and support themselves. It is not likely that many women would prefer an economic occupation to a marriage on the 324 SOCIOLOGY basis of mutual love and domestic happiness, but every intelligent woman should prefer to enter economic life and refrain from marriage, if the basis of it is sexual subordination, household drudgery and domestic in- felicity. In other words, woman through modern free- dom is developing personality and self-respect, and de- sires to maintain and to strengthen these in marriage, not to lose them. The discoveries of science also corroborate this view of marriage. The phenomenon of "falling in love" implies an intuitive recognition of essential The mar- l ° riage re- likeness of type, though there are often dif- lation. ferences in detail. If there is also a mutual recognition of suitable moral and mental qualities, and a general harmony of social attainment, the proper conditions for marriage are present. A woman intuitively knows that such a marriage would bring her happiness, and that any other kind would be "with risk." Increasingly, therefore, a woman as she becomes intelligently trained and developed in personal- ity, will demand sexual morality and self-control from her suitor and husband, and should have the right of divorce as a guaranty against deception or brutality. This implies that the truest and noblest women will mate only with similar men, and by social imitation the prestige of an elite will create similar demands in every social class. When women see that the real happiness of marriage is dependent on a radical upbuilding of male sexual ethical standards, they will begin definitely to war against conditions that promote immorality, to educate their sons to as high standards as their daugh- THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 325 ters, and to insist that in all relationships that involve sexuality the male shall supplicate and the female dictate terms. While the male has stronger sexual instincts, he also has, by his own admission, a more powerful intellect, and hence should readily be able to regulate his passions in order to attain the higher end of conjugal happiness and nobler offspring. Science and experience unite in teaching that if a girl can be trained to abhor sexual immorality and drunkenness, a boy, with his more vigor- ous personality and mentality, can be trained to be chaste, and to be capable of controlling bodily appetites so as to utilize his bodily and mental vigor in socially advantageous directions. Parents and teachers should, however, not err in concluding tha,t intellectual knowl- edge is alone sufficient. Education should devote vastly more attention than at present to the feelings. The higher emotions can be developed by arousing cultural ideals, which absorb attention and divert energy from physical appetites. Society errs in emphasizing overmuch the difference between male and female; there is a proper distinction, The dis- an( ^ ^ ne terms manly and womanly should tinctions always connote a natural and fundamental distinction between the sexes. Yet the harem- like seclusion of woman, and her timid dependency on the male, are rapidly passing as the sexes mingle in the home circle, in educational and economic com- petition, and in the free social life of the times. The sexes inevitably will approximate nearer to a com- mon type in cultural attainment, though kept different by biological and psychological differentiation and func- 326 SOCIOLOGY tions. After all, aside from these differences, there is no sharp distinction between the masculine and feminine minds. The extremes are far apart, yet, as the average is approached, masculine and feminine traits are not so different but that there may be many real harmonies in ideals, standards and ambitions. 1 While, therefore, biological differences will probably always result in slight mental differences, the funda- The scien- ment al likeness of a mentality inherited from tific basis a common racial stock, will form the basis o mating. ^ harmony of purpose, and the distinctions clue to sex and training will supply supplementary and mutually attractive traits. As newer psycho- logical discoveries become part of education, and the mental deficiencies of each sex are generally noted, attempts will be made definitely to develop qualities now lacking, so that mating may be based on scientific insight as well as on biological instinct. When general knowledge is shared by both sexes alike, and racial ideals and ethical standards influence the purposes of both, they will plan unitedly for the final elimination of the demoralizing conditions now so rife through sex- ual profligacy. 2 Experience shows that if ever the elite, fortified by scientific teachings, and animated by a hatred of vice and a love of purity, take a determined stand against the present low standards of sexual ethics, the mass of the population, by social imitation and by 1 For a short, interesting book on this topic, see C. G. Leland, "The Alternate Sex." 2 For a full discussion of this subject, with a short bibliography, see Charles R Henderson, "Education with Reference to Sex." THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 327 education, will conform, as a matter of course, to the standards set by social leadership. VI. Intemperance Next to sexual immorality in its prevalence in modern civilization is the vice of intemperance. Though for the purposes of discussion this term may be temperance res tricted to phenomena arising from the ex- cessive use of alcoholic drinks, yet practi- cally, the use of narcotics and tobacco should be in- cluded, since the causes and remedies for the use of drug and liquor are much the same. Certainly no one can deny the enormous evils incident to such forms of intemperance, evils so deep-rooted and wide-spread as seriously to hamper the forward movement of society. It is natural, therefore, when these evils first force themselves on the attention, to follow primitive instincts and favor a policy of tabu. For this reason society, under the impulse of an awakening conscience, occa- sionally forbids the manufacture and sale of liquors, refuses to allow their importation, or else prohibits the sale of liquors to certain classes, when plainly inimical to social welfare, as e. g. in the case of minors or the skilled employees of railroads. All tabus have their utility, and are more or less effective in proportion to the thoroughness of enforcement and the strength of public opinion. Sociologically, however, tabus belong to lower civilization and are but temporary remedies. As a permanent policy society must have a more scien- tific basis for temperance. It should, however, by no means be assumed that 328 SOCIOLOGY in higher civilization temperance is synonymous with abstinence. Stimulating beverages will probably be to Possibilities some extent used in the future as in the past. of social Drinking habits are too widespread, and regu ation. ^ ne attractiveness of liquor is too powerful to permit of permanent disuse, for many centuries at least. But a large part of the evils of intem- perance should disappear, and the sooner the better. If a policy of systematic reduction were adopted, in place of vain attempts at complete annihilation, a first step might be made by insistence on the purity of liquors offered for consumption; the state should insist on a set standard of purity as a prerequisite for permission to place liquors on sale. Then, too, if liquors of low alcoholic per cent gradually supplanted stronger beverages, 1 crimes of violence would be less- ened in number. Again, as a remote possibility, chem- istry may in the future be able to neutralize to some extent the evil effects of alcohol on the system, so as to make malt and vinous liquors no more harm- ful than tea or coffee. Furthermore, many improve- ments in the system of regulation can be devised, so as to eliminate certain evils inherent in present license systems. 2 There are many questions in a license system needing more careful study, such as e. g. the methods of obtaining licenses, the number of saloons per capita, the evils arising from sales by clubs, drug-stores and 1 For years the United States Brewers' Association has been pub- lishing and circulating information urging the use of beers in prefer- ence to spirituous liquors. 2 Note, for example, the platform advocated by what is called ''The Model License League." See Charities, January 23, 1909. THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 329 kitchen bar rooms, and the relation of the police to those legally or illegally engaged in the traffic. Possi- bly the present system is in need of radical revision, and as a substitute for a license system, European experiments in monopolies of manufacture and sale should at any rate be carefully studied, so as to see whether or not the element of private profit can be eliminated. This would be a most important modi- fication, for if the economic motive for the multiplica- tion of sales could be removed, sales would largely diminish, and advocates of temperance would be able to exercise greater influence in legislation. For this reason the Scandinavian system, in which a philan- thropic corporation controls a monopoly of the busi- ness and devotes all profits above a low maximum to public use, is a method worthy of serious attention. Then, too, the state might, under an extension of its police powers, refuse the privilege of the mails to pub- other pos- locations containing advertisements of liquor, sibie modi- just as the federal government of the United fications. States refuses to allow lottery advertisements to be thus distributed. It is not unlikely, also, that public opinion might be brought to bear on news- papers and magazines, so as to induce them to bar from their columns all advertising matter in respect to the sale of liquors. In the same way a sort of social boycott, like that of the Consumers' League against sweat-shop goods, might be created against hotels and drug, grocery and department stores that keep liquors for sale. An aroused public opinion, banning adver- tisements and restricting sales to licensed places hand- 330 SOCIOLOGY ling liquors only, would cut off two great sources of the spread of the drinking habit; for judicious adver- tising increases sales, and the stimulus of private profit leads many firms to add the sale of liquors to their other lines of business. Much, also, has been and can be accomplished by associations for moral and social betterment. The influence influence of such movements is powerful, of right when they seek to stimulate men to right e ucation. ac ^ on by appeals to higher motives based on a real knowledge of the situation. Education also is an influential factor, but all attempts to educate the youth or to develop public opinion should be fair and should seek to present the question as a whole, not emphasizing its abnormal and one-sided aspects. Exaggerated teachings in respect to intem- perance are harmful in the long run, since more exact knowledge brings revulsion of feeling. If instruction in temperance is given in the schools, as in the United States, it is important that text-book and teacher handle the question intelligently, and present it, not simply as a physiological and moral problem, but as a matter affecting the whole of social life and demanding the formation of social standards and purposive activity. 1 The churches also need to adopt the same viewpoint. Religious temperance agitation would better emphasize a scientific study of the question as a social problem, 1 For a short discussion of the temperance instruction given in the public schools, see articles on the work of the National Woman's Christian Temperance Union, A nnals, Philadelphia, November, 1908, pp. 38-43, 134-142, and for a longer discussion, see John S. Billings, " Physiological Effects of Alcohol," 2 vols. (Vol. D THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 331 rather than make it a religious demand, involving a war against the saloon and even occasional drinking. Instead of arousing the combative and sympathetic emotions of their audiences, the ministry would better appeal to the intellect by a careful presentation of the larger aspects of the question arising from social and scientific studies. In place of their insistence on per- sonal pledges and legal prohibitions, they would accom- plish more by attempts to improve regulation and to modify social conditions. The question of intemperance has, however, a more completely sociological phase, since the desire for drink Habits of ^ s a ^ s0 a soc ' Vd ^ force. As a desire it is in social origin physiological, psychological and social, drmkmg. j n soc j a i jjf e t } ie use of liquors has become a custom, and many persons drink simply because it is usual at meals or in social companionship. They have no craving for liquor because of its effects, but merely partake of or furnish the beverage customary on social occasions, whether it be coffee, mineral water or liquors. Evidently the remedy for such a custom, if one is demanded, lies in its modification by argument, and through imitation of examples set by social leaders. It is, however, the least objectionable form of drinking, and, if it never went to excess, would probably lead to no further discussion than that over the growing use of coffee or tea. The custom may naturally become evil when the amount of liquor con- sumed becomes large, and the element of waste becomes a factor in the situation, along with tendencies toward drunkenness by the weaker members of society. A 332 SOCIOLOGY relatively large part of drinking for social purposes is done in saloons and club rooms, because these are natural social centers; persons who have no moral ob- jections to the saloon readily find in it an attractive companionship and much sociability of a certain sort. In such cases the drinking may be merely incidental to the social features, and in many cases some other form of drink would be equally acceptable. It is probable, therefore, that when society definitely undertakes to furnish attractive recreational centers, where abundant opportunities are offered for social enjoyment, many persons who now frequent saloons will prefer to pass their time in these rival places of amusement, open, it may be, to their families also, and where liquor, if fur- nished at all, would be sold only in its milder forms, as in Europe. One of the really hopeful movements of modern times is in the development of such social cen- ters, where numerous classes of people may secure light refreshments and amusements of a better sort for trifling sums. If the desire for intoxicating liquor is psychological, it may be due to a morbid craving for the excitement of drunkenness, or it may be due to mental Psychoiogi- s ^. ram causec [ by reverses in business, domes- cal aspect. J ' tic losses or disappointed ambitions. If a person drinks simply for the sake of the effects of intoxi- cation, he is essentially irresponsible and should be treated accordingly. Probation or compulsory deten- tion for purposes of education and training, are the proper remedies, and sterner measures should be taken, if necessary, to prevent such forms of indulgence, lead- THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 333 ing, as they so often do, to crime and vice. If grief or financial reverses cause the demand for the stupefication arising from intoxication, the chief remedy lies in the diversion of attention from the exciting cause, and the arousal of new interests through friendly assistance, advice or even medical attention. Such cases as these are relatively few in number, and the mental conditions should pass away with proper care. The really serious cravings for stimulants arise from physiological causes. If a human body is improperly or insufficiently fed, if the lungs are not regu- ysio ogi- ] ar iy supplied with a proper amount of oxy- cal causes. . gen, or if the body and nervous system are breaking down through overwork or nervous strain due to worry, then the physical system demands relief, and a feverish condition develops, an unrest indicative of approaching physical collapse. Under natural condi- tions this state should be followed by lassitude, weak- ness, susceptibility to disease, and ultimately premature death. The proper remedies, of course, would be nour- ishing foods, sanitary conditions of housing and labor and relaxation from mental strain. Such remedies un- fortunately are out of the question for low-wage earners, who must be satisfied with a niggardly subsistence and a wretched environment. Under present conditions they must remain in this situation, largely because, through defective training and nurture, they lack intelligence enough to understand their needs and the danger of contracting vicious habits. If they had foresight, they would push upward in the economic world and would not remain among poorly paid workers; but in their short- 334 SOCIOLOGY sightedness it is natural enough for them, when they find themselves inert, to imitate the habits of their neighbors in order to find a temporary remedy for their condition. This may be opium, hasheesh, cocaine or tobacco, tea, coffee, beer, wine, patent medicines or spirituous liquors such as gin, rum or whiskey. Wherever there is poverty, there will be a demand for such stimu- lants, not because of inherent wickedness, as is some- times thought, but because of imperfect bodily develop- ment. Such persons are sickly, unsymmetrical, and age rapidly under the strain of life. Each class seeks that remedy most customary; there are racial preferences, sex preferences, and preferences influences determined by social and ethical considera- of en- tions. The essential point is that such vironment. conc jitions f \[( e i ea d t a demand for some sort of stimulant, and the demand is met by a sup- ply. As liquor in all of its forms is easily obtained and is comparatively cheap, the average person in western civilization turns to that. This can be illus- trated by a study of the location of saloons in any large city. The great mass of them will be found wherever the poor live. In the sections occupied by skilled work- ingmen, where economic and domestic conditions are better, saloons are fewer in number; in the so-called residential sections where the population has the maxi- mum of household comfort, there are few or no saloons. Others will be found massed near the vicinity of tender- loin districts and business centers; in the last case so as to cater to transient trade and social drinking, or to furnish liquor supplementary to a meal. THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 335 Furthermore, women, as they enter economic and social life, will demand the same privileges as their male kin; so that the drinking habit both public and private will hereafter inevitably develop among women, keep- ing pace with the growth or decrease of the habit among men. Many women under present tendencies will hardly be deterred by the argument that women are different and should be better .than men, a point in ethics some- what difficult to prove. Now if this be a true statement of the case, evidently the remedy for intemperance among the poor will not be met by prohibition. Moral exhortations and educational information will make small clif- pohcy. ference, and social substitutes for the saloon will hardly satisfy the requirements. Prohibition in- evitably would be followed by illegal sales and pur- chases, and a pledge would be as a rule efficacious only when followed by a radical change in environment. Remedies to be really effective must be far-reaching. It would be necessary, for instance, to fight disease in all of its forms, to make permanent improvement in sanitation, housing and to alleviate conditions of labor; to forbid child labor in toto, female labor, except under healthful conditions, and to regulate under police powers male labor in dangerous and disease-breeding occupa- tions. Systematic instruction in domestic economy and cooking should also be given to girls in the schools, and to mothers through mothers' clubs, so as to enable them to furnish nourishing foods at no greater expense than that of the wretchedly cooked foods of poor dietetic value now usually provided. Finally, there should be 336 SOCIOLOGY in every neighborhood, parks, gymnasia, reading-rooms, libraries and social centers, through the utilization of school buildings and ward halls, or rooms furnished by churches interested in social betterment. If at the same time there were a general economic movement to elim- inate poorly paid labor, along lines already suggested, it is obvious that the problem of intemperance would rapidly assume less alarming proportions, and would be- come capable of ultimate settlement through social con- trol and education. As far as drunkenness itself is concerned, there is need of a radical change in social policy. Drunken- r lation ness is still under the law considered a crime, of drunken- though all science is against any such view. The arrest and imprisonment of drunkards form a large part of the work of the police, and the system in its effects is socially vicious. Drunkards should be treated as minors are under the modern system. The circumstances should be carefully in- vestigated through a special drunkards' court, proba- tion used whenever possible, and cases of habitual drunkenness should have medical treatment and be segregated in farm and industrial colonies. Under this system, in place of increasing domestic cares by the imposition of a fine, the wages earned by the person under restraint could be legally directed to the support of his.family. Those only should be treated as criminals who deliberately drink for excitement's sake, and commit acts of violence. For these the compulsory industrial methods of the modern reformatory are essential. If a careful policy of this sort were carried THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 337 out for a few years, the expense of it would find ample justification in ultimate economy and social improvement. 1 Summary In attempting to illustrate, from principles sociologi- cally justifiable, methods that should be kept in mind in all agitation for social reform, it becomes evident at a glance that the several topics discussed are really parts of one great question. Under our present theories the class that under natural selection should have been eliminated, has been kept in existence through social philanthropic agencies, but in such wretched conditions as to make the "submerged tenth" of our population a crying disgrace to high civilization. No savage race probably is so hopelessly fallen as are the degenerate classes of western civilization. In addition to these the conditions of our strenuous competitive system are dragging down another large per cent of humanity, and these, though struggling hard against their fate, are being slowly drawn into the vortex of despair. According to the varying conditions of heredity and environment, some are driven into crime, others to drunkenness and others to pauperism. Sickness, moral degeneracy and sexual depravity surround them at every turn, and societ}' heaps up for itself an increasing 1 The best summaries of the temperance question are as follows: Francis G. Peabody (editor), "The Liquor Problem'' (a summary of investigations conducted by the Committee of Fifty), and Rown- tree and Sherwell, "The Temperance Problem and Social Reform." For numerous references, see R. H. Edwards, "Studies in American Social Conditions," Pamphlet No. 1. 338 SOCIOLOGY mass of social misery and degeneracy, against the time when a social crisis will come, and another "servile war," or "proletariat struggle," with its bloodshed and "leveling down." Those who are freed from the bitter- ness of these degrading conditions, vainly imagine that the evils inherent in the system can be atoned for by charity or legislative fiat. Like the ostrich which thinks to escape its pursuers by hiding its head in the sand, society imagines that it has abolished its social evils by forbidding by law gambling, begging, crime, drunkenness and prostitution. No system of tabu is at all efficacious, unless followed up by extermination, as under ancient conditions, or on the other hand by the methods of science and telic foresight. Appeals to reason and moral suasion are powerful influences for those who have leisure to think, and have trained minds and emotions; but before they can be used with any effectiveness on the depressed classes, social energy must be concentrated on the problem of improving the physical and economic conditions of social life environ- ing poorly paid labor. Teachings in churches and schools are comparatively useless except as they sup- plement an economic uplift. Individuals here and there may be "plucked as brands from the burning," but they are few as compared to the many. If the altruistic and civic agencies of society would band together for a common purpose, working toward a clearly defined goal, and by scientifically recognized methods, the energy and wealth now expended in well-nigh useless direc- tions would be concentrated on the spot whence most of our social evils arise, and would slowly but surely THE ELIMINATION OF SOCIAL EVILS 339 bring about changes that would reduce to a minimum the handicaps of modern civilization. Then the in- fluence of ethical, educational and cultural institutions of all sorts would have their rightful effect, and social progress would bring happiness and hope to our despair- ing classes. CHAPTER XVITJ THE PROGRESS OF INDIVIDUALS If society by forethought and a knowledge of socio- logical principles may accelerate its progress, individuals Natural and a ^ so snou ld be able to utilize these agencies telic de- so as to ensure greater success in life. This veiopment. cer tainly should be true, provided heredity has supplied a given individual with a proper physical and mental basis on which to build; and this would be best shown by his capacity to comprehend a telic policy for himself and to persevere in seeking to accomplish it. Any person who has foresight and per- severance, other things being equal, should be able to make attainment beyond his natural expectation. In this chapter, therefore, an application will be made of some of the sociological principles already discussed, as suggestions leading toward the purposive develop- ment of the life of an individual. Such a policy should first be initiated by parents and teachers, who should seek to build up above all things sound bodies and minds harmoniously trained in feeling and intellect. As maturity is attained each individual for himself must continue his own development, preferably under guidance, until he gains the confidence that comes from experience. It is essential in the first place that the mind grasp 340 THE PROGRESS OF INDIVIDUALS 341 the importance of a telic policy as against a policy of drift, or genetic development. Then the general aspects of a telic policy should be fixed and consist- ently carried out, modifying details as neces- sity arises. To this end forethought and insight into causation should be developed, so that one may become used to the notion of working for a definite end, through causes to anticipated effects, a mental habit readily built up by training in the experimental sciences, for instance, and by a study of inventions. 1 In the second place the distinction between static and dynamic development should be made clear, and the utility of each fixed in the mind; the e 1C one standing as it does for stability, and progress. & J ' the other for progress. Education too often fixes the static, but not the dynamic. This latter proc- ess may be emphasized by evolutionary studies — bio- logical, psychological, economic, religious, and so on. When a mind has once been trained to use prevision and causation, and to look about for manifestations of them, and has grasped the distinction between sta- bility, fixity and permanency orl the one hand, and changes through modifications of environmental condi- tions, adaptation and assimilation on the other — it from that time on has the fundamental qualifications for telic progress. Then one should study his own environing conditions, looking first at the physical and the economic. A vig- orous physique must be developed as a basis for later 1 Herbert Spencer's work on "Education" makes many valuable suggestions for self-training. 342 SOCIOLOGY activity, but in so doing the body must always be kept subordinated to the mind. Not muscle and bulk merely, but a muscular system regulated and Environing controlled by the intellect, so as to make conditions. J ' the body flexible, able to endure toil, and to ward off disease. This necessitates, of course, a capacity to regulate bodily appetites and to subordinate them to higher ends. In respect to economic attainment a per- son should see its importance and become familiar in a general way with economic achievements. Preferably he should handle tools, should become somewhat famil- iar with the utilization of natural power, should learn the value of money and by experience the difficulty of earning it; then he should follow up this knowledge by a study of government, so as to understand its organ- ization and its methods of protecting and developing life and property. This should lead to a study of gov- ernmental machinery, the possibilities of improving it, and the ways in which governments may best become telic in policy so as to adjust themselves to newer conditions. In adolescence the really important crisis in life is at hand. Then, if ever, a person must develop a powerful The period P ersona hty by telic means. As the feelings of adoies- grow in strength, every attention should be cence - paid to their proper development. The feel- ings collectively are the dynamo that will furnish en- ergy for life's activities, and while they are built up in intensity they should be regulated and guided. A vigorous appetite for food is essential but should be under control and guided by a knowledge of dietetics; sexual feelings should be powerful, but should THE PROGRESS OF INDIVIDUALS 343 be diverted from vice and pruriency, and trained into chivalry and a deep respect for womanhood; eagerness for economic attainment should be encouraged, but shown to be subordinate to larger ends more worthy of permanent pursuit; the imagination of youth should be directed into the idealism of early manhood, and the great moral aims of society made clear; such as domes- tic integrity, patriotism and social standards of right. In adolescence the mind is easily brought under the influence of rhythm, motion, harmony of sound and color, and beauty of form. These esthetic cravings should be rendered vigorous by close attention to the study and enjoyment of the truly artistic, as against vicious passions or the shallowness of sentimentality. This absorption in the artistic may not be permanent, but during the time when it is especially vigorous, a person should build up an appreciation for art in forms that by their refining effects on his higher emotions will elevate and idealize all of his later activities. In this period of bounding juvenescence he must remember that feelings in themselves are not injurious, that the more numerous and the stronger his desires, the more powerful will be his activities, but that these dynamic energies of his, like other forms of power, are dangerous if uncontrolled. If he loses control, and allows his passions the upper hand, disaster will inevitably follow. 1 As adolescence merges into maturity, the proper period arrives for the systematic development of the 'As suggestive books may be mentioned R. P. Halleck, "Psy- chology and Psychic Culture"; George H. Betts, "The Mind and Its Education," and C. G. Leland, "Have You a Strong Will?" 344 SOCIOLOGY intellect itself. Up to that time it has been growing under mechanical processes, and largely stored with routinary and miscellaneous information, inteiiectua muc j 1 £ w hich fortunately is speedily for- maturity. J L _ » gotten. Intellectual development is chiefly a personal process, though others may suggest and guide. For this reason higher education is useless in many cases. Unless a person will himself devote his energy to mental attainment, the time and expense of a college or university course is largely wasted, from the intel- lectual standpoint at least. Many, perhaps, seek a col- lege degree merely for the sake of the social life of the campus, or the social prestige arising from residence in or graduation from a university. On the other hand, the value of a college education is beyond measure to one who is eager to avail himself of its opportunities. In the training of the intellect there are two processes to be followed: in the first place, the intellect should be considered a machine, and trained to work easily, rapidly and steadily; in the second place it should be considered a storehouse where information should be systematically and carefully arranged. (1) The first process is simple enough, demanding only persistent labor. Knowledge first passes into the mind through the senses, and each of them The mental mus £ ^ e trained for swift and accurate ob- processes. servation, so as to gain exact information as to the properties of things. Here again science and the fine arts are far better than overmuch poring over books or work in memorization. When the senses have been well trained in early years so as to become efficient ser- THE PROGRESS OF INDIVIDUALS 345 vants in maturity, attention can then be given to rea- soning and generalizing, a most essential mental ac- quirement. The mind through heredity and constant repetition of experiences, performs automatically a large share of reasoning, through the so-called unconscious or sub-conscious processes. But, in addition to this, a person must reason with full consciousness, selecting some subject as in a debate, reflecting on it, combining information on hand with newer information sought, and seeking to work out correct conclusions. This practice should be constantly repeated, considering sub- ject after subject, preferably those in which one feels interest, such as questions of ethics, politics, theology and philosophic and scientific hypotheses. By thus using the mental processes over and over again, taking increasingly harder subjects for reflection, and seeking to develop speed by concentration, mental machinery becomes so easy in its workings that one forms judg- ments almost automatically, and thus accomplishes vastly more mental labor than if it were necessary to take each step in reasoning with deliberation. Every capable person must be able to think and to decide rapidly and exactly, and as a rule facility must be de- veloped by long experience. In skilled games no per- son becomes really proficient until he acquires the faculty of intuition, so that in any given emergency he sees what to do without conscious reasoning. This power he acquires by constant practice and many-sided experience. In the same way a judge in a police court makes his decisions with great rapidity and correctness, because he has gained intuitional power. Reverse the 346 SOCIOLOGY tasks of the player and the judge, and each would have to consume much more time in the work, and the re- sults would be far less satisfactory than if each were in his proper place. If the feelings are vigorous, the senses keen and the intellect in fine working order, the memory will be good also. If the memory seems defective in any aspect, assuming a normal condition of body memory. ... . and mind, it is because one has no interest in, or has not given good attention to, the subject matter, and has not trained his intellect to deal with that kind of knowledge. For example, a person ordinarily finds it hard to remember names. If he desires to cultivate facility in that sort of memory, he must arouse an inter- est, such, for instance, as a priest or a congressman may have in his constituency; he must carefully observe peculiarities on introduction, and must consciously try to associate the name and face. Interest, keen powers of observation, and conscious effort, would in time give the person "a good memory for names and faces." (2) Enough, perhaps/ has been said in earlier chapters of this work in respect to the importance of systematic importance an( ^ generalized scientific knowledge, and of right the necessity of seeing the essential unity of now e ge. a jj k now ] ec ig e> Such information steadies a person's mind and keeps him from being unbalanced by fads and bigotries. As one approaches maturity, the field of wider knowledge opens before him, entirely too vast to be compassed in the space of a lifetime, and hence one must select such departments of knowl- edge as seem most pleasing in themselves or most use- THE PROGRESS OF INDIVIDUALS 347 ful for later years. But whatever branch or branches are taken up, one's intellect should seek to see them as a whole, and in their relations to other knowledge, before burying one's self in details. Many capable minds are ruined because overwhelmed with a great mass of spe- cialized information, piled up helter-skelter. The ca- pacity to see the thing as a whole is essential to mental greatness. Many officers can handle a regiment ad- mirably, but it takes a Von Moltke to handle an army as a skilled player moves his chessmen. No great business can be well managed except by a man who sees the whole of it in his mind's eye, who knows the relative importance of each of its parts and can put his finger on the weak spots of the system. This capacity develops through continuous experience in generalizing an argument, or by forming judgments and conclusions; and the lack of it of necessity condemns one to a comparatively insig- nificant position in life. It is by means of proper information stored in the mind that the intellect is able to direct feelings and desires toward telic ends. Ordinarily, for in- The choice gtance a p ers0 n conforms to his social en- of ends. ' r vironment and imitates social custom. If, however, his intellect has at its command a well-stored mass of information, it may see that a particular in- fluence or custom is retarding progress or is even injuri- ous, and therefore it would suggest or call up another possibility in better accord with higher demands. Scientific knowledge, for example, in respect to the body, may call attention to the effects of tobacco, liquors or sexual immorality on bodily conditions; 348 SOCIOLOGY psychological knowledge may suggest probable effects on the mind; and sociological information may empha- size social consequences of physical indulgences, and, as an alternative, suggest self-control for the sake of a larger and higher enjoyment in later years. Lacking such knowledge a person would much more easily be influenced to follow the dictates of urgent physical desires, if only for the sake of present enjoyment or of social companionship. Growth in knowledge would cause the intellect to appreciate the importance of an ever-improving and broadening environment, so as to enable a person to adapt himself readily, and be "at home" under all circumstances. In other words, per- sonality develops; and the individual, instead of taking his tone like a chameleon, from his immediate environ- ment, selects or creates his own environment, and dic- tates tone to those who come within the circle of his influence. This is important because he thereby becomes a leader, not a follower, among men. To this end by experience and study he must become famil- Sociai - ar ^jj ] luman na ture and its motives, 1 and leadership. ; acquire a knowledge of the best methods of managing men. It is obvious that to do so one must give tone, not take tone; and this becomes pos- sible only when a person has developed a powerful dynamo in his feelings, trained his intellect to think and has his mind well stored with useful information. 1 One of the best aids in this direction may be had from such works as Mary O. Stanton's "Encyclopedia of Face and Form Reading." THE PROGRESS OF INDIVIDUALS 349 Needless to say that such a personality almost inevit- ably will succeed in life, in the sense that he will attain a far higher place than naturally would have fallen to him. Accidents, of course, are possible; against the fates not even the gods can strive; a blow on the head from a footpad might ruin the brightest intellect. But rules hold, even though there are seemingly always exceptions. In conclusion, a word may be said in regard to a choice of occupation. 1 Sometimes heredity determines that by pronouncing unmistakably in favor Choice of Q £ a cer ^ a j n p Ur suit. At other times environ- occupation. l ment may plainly mark out an occupation, as, for instance, when a young man has before him an attractive opportunity to continue the successful busi- ness or profession of a father, relative or friend. But ordinarily it makes small difference to a young man in what direction he turns his energy. A well-trained mind is capable in almost any direction. He should intelligently survey the field, try to form an estimate of the possibilities of future development in a given occupation for the next fifty years, take account of his tastes and capacities as he understands them, then make his decision and seek for an opportunity. If experience plainly proves the decision wrong, he should not hesitate to change; but as a rule changes should not be made, and will be unnecessary if proper con- sideration has been given. It is regularly unwise to stay long in some other occupation taken up as a make- !For an interesting attempt to devise a scientific basis for such choices see Frank Parsons, "Choosing a Vocation." 350 SOCIOLOGY shift. The energy of early manhood should be exerted in permanent directions, and not be allowed to waste itself in work on which the highest ambitions are not set. In taking up his life work one should devote himself assiduously to it and master it even to the loss or par- The pursuit ^ a ^ ne gl ec t of social enjoyment. It is im- of an possible to have everything in life, and in occupation. g enera i one mus ^ choose between physical and social pleasures as an aim, and business as an incidental, or reverse the process, and make such pleas- ures subordinate to the higher satisfactions arising from the performance of duty. A well-trained mind will absorb happiness from almost any environment, and will find its highest enjoyment in the performance of a chosen vocation and in the v practice of civic and social virtues. When a person is once in an occupa- tion, he should develop the qualities of perseverance and concentrated energy, although always he must re- member that there is a golden mean between idleness and strain, and that a capable man needs leisure to mature his plans and to add to his happiness by the diversification of his interests. Finally, if he will use a well-stored intellect in cooperation with his feelings in the early choice of a sympathetic and intelligent wife and in the foundation of a home, he will manifest talent in a most useful telic direction, and the benefits arising therefrom will be emphasized with passing years. CHAPTER XIX THE SOCIAL IDEAL Sociology has no ideal in the sense that there is a dominating pattern to which all details ought to con- mi . , , form. The ideal of sociology will presumably The ideal of toJ r sociology change from age to age. What seems good a relative [ n ^\ le light of present knowledge may in later generations be deemed defective, because of changed conditions and larger knowledge. The per- sonal equation in western civilization is different from that in the East, so that even from the same facts another type of intellect might reach a different conclusion. Heredity and local environment also determine "an attitude of mind," and this is a factor in any process of reasoning. Yet different conclusions have their utility, since a generalization of many viewpoints has a certain sort of finality. At any rate, such a consensus is a fairly safe guide for practical purposes, and, after all, if the general direction of movement is known, the landing spot may be ignored. Columbus believed that he would find India by sailing westward, but, though failing in that, America was not a bad substitute. So in sociologi- cal theorizing one may feel sure of certain general prin- ciples, even though the varying factors in heredity and environment are too complex to justify a prediction in details. In this last chapter, therefore, no attempt 351 352 SOCIOLOGY will be made to work out a description of a utopia to be attained through sociology, but rather certain aspects of social development will be restated, that may well furnish subjects for reflection 'to those who believe that life is worth living, or should be made so. From this standpoint, therefore, we may well start with the evolutionary teaching of change. We know that there is nothing fixed in the universe; all Social - g j n constant motion, and changes involving change. . . ' . ,° integration and disintegration are always m evidence. Things seem unchanging to us because of our shortsightedness and mental incapacity. Our most permanent institutions and beliefs have their history of origins and development, and instead of there being "nothing new under the sun" it would be truer to say that all things are ever new, so that even dissolution through death is a new birth. While, therefore, many institutions, customs and beliefs seem to us stable, they are only relatively so. No nation, therefore, should seek to imitate ancestral customs in Mo, and every genera- tion should expect to find that its successor has a different viewpoint in belief and activity. If the relativity of static conditions is perceived, and the eternal law of change admitted, then one should avoid a pessimistic attitude of mind by seek- a policy of • g0 £ uge n - g m tellect as to modify to some progress. ° , extent the genetic changes of nature. In- grained stupidity destroys the possibility of progress, and a society mentally inert might as well fold its hands and take passively the bitter experiences that nature will so abundantly supply. Progress belongs to the society THE SOCIAL IDEAL 353 that realizes that its evolution can become telic, that it is possible to work out a policy of improvement, and that the necessary basic knowledge is already existent. Pre- sumably no general policy could be put into practice instantly, for forethought and planning involve patience and time, and human experience teaches that the best always costs most and comes with infinite slowness. In developing a social policy of progress, it is not sufficient, therefore, to reproduce by imitation past attainments; society must also encourage by bmt alfleX1 " ever y mea ns improvements, and add con- stantly new achievements to strengthen its civilization. Not the least of possible achievements would be a mental capacity to discard the obsolete in favor of a better device and a truer knowledge. Society like some animals, must occasionally shed its skin so as to allow growth and vigor; like a business establishment or a household, it has its garret where is stored long- accumulated trash, awaiting a cleaning or a burning. It is socially more dangerous to hold on too long to the old than to reach out too eagerly for the new. Old books are best, but most old books are obsolete, and as a rule every generation makes its own best books. A so- ciety should be willing, like a manufacturing plant, to throw on the junk heap its outworn social machinery, customs and teachings, and conserve and develop what is most useful for present conditions. Its primary achievement, of course, will be the wiser utilization of all forms of material and energy supplied by nature, so as to free mankind from the curse of unskilled labor, and with a more scientific biological and chemical knowledge 354 SOCIOLOGY to improve the quality and quantity of foods. On the basis of these attainments should come all sorts of scientific achievements, a broadening of the influence of art in all of its forms, the moralizing of social institu- tions and the unifying of knowledge. Education through the press and the school, should be pushed far more vigorously than at present, so as to spread broadcast the most useful knowledge, and thus to create a public opin- ion that would sustain a social telic policy. The process of socialization is best carried on through education. A narrow education results in a socialization characterized by self-satisfaction and inertia, easily becoming unpro- gressive. The more and larger the education the more truly does one become at the same time socialized and individualized. A fixed education restricts a man's mentality, but a mind that absorbs "broad knowledge grows by what it feeds on and develops personality. The aim of socialization is to create a sort of federation, made up of strongly individualized personalities unified for common social purposes. Education accomplishes this by building up the higher emotions and the intellect, supplying them with information, and opening up a great field of social activity. It is important to fix clearly the principle that social activity tends to be either prohibitive, regulative or con- Sociai structive in kind. Prohibitions imply that activity is there is social depravity and that offenders constructive. mugt k e p lin i s j ie d or exterminated. Regula- tions assume the general ignorance of mankind, which must be guided by its more capable members. A constructive policy develops when the average per- THE SOCIAL IDEAL 355 son is intelligent enough to appreciate and originate improvements in the social system. Sociology would have society free itself from a morality of don'ts by eliminating as far as possible human depravity through scientific knowledge of racial improvement. It would have regulation grow less burdensome, less compulsory, less imitative in kind, and become the regulation suited to a democracy; that is, such as public opinion sees to be necessary under the conditions, and formulates into law, cheerfully obeyed by its makers. It would have society through education develop a type of citizenship able to comprehend the life of society as a whole and constructively to build up a higher form of civilization. In passing through these stages, one by one, the methods of social control change from intimidation to persuasion, from the fear of punishment to the stimulation of hope, from a compulsory uniformity to a conscious imitation of the good and a deliberate attempt to find a better. It eliminates constructively, by tearing down while it builds, and using for the new edifice the valuable parts of the old. Society will therefore enter on its rightful inheritance when it, through science, sees clearly how to improve its racial stock, to add continuously to its economic and cultural achievement, and to impart its knowledge wisely to each generation through the stimu- lation of human desires, under the guidance of a well- trained intellect supplied with useful knowledge. In so doing, society will find its chief stimulus in its deeper insight into the possibilities of development. Evolution looks forward as well as backward. The backward glance causes men to see as through a glass 356 SOCIOLOGY darkly; they are yet to see face to face. 1 They must forget the things that are behind and stretch forward to the things that are before. 2 As incentives Modern ^ Q j luman activity, society already offers many social ideals familiar through the great human- itarian movements of the last two hundred years. The social history of that period clearly indicates how men have toiled and suffered for ideals of freedom, democracy and human brotherhood. About us at the present time we see the zeal and energy displayed in agitation for women's rights, the rights of labor, socialism and world peace. Arising into social consciousness are demands for health, recreation and a broader education ; for a fair wage, a decent standard of living, a chance to "make good" and a "square deal." Soon there will develop a constantly growing demand for the eradication of pau- perism, disease, vice and crime. The saloon and the slum must go, and perverted and degenerated stocks must cease to propagate their kind. There is a demand for the development of dormant capacity, for a larger life, and for an ideal of social welfare that will fill men's hearts with an ardent desire to assist in building up social achievement. 4 Society is learning to plan for the sake of a coming world-wide civilization. Because of this implicit ideal- ism sociology has sometimes been considered a sort of religion. Comte, the "father of sociology," even worked out a religion of humanity which yet has its 1 1 Corinthians xiii, 12. 2 Philippians iii, 13. 3 See H. O. Taylor, "Ancient Ideals," 2 vols. 4 In illustration, note Josiah Strong, "The Challenge of the City." THE SOCIAL IDEAL 357 votaries in the so-called Positivist Church. 1 Spencer also, in his synthetic philosophy, 2 could not keep from The enunciating a sort of cosmic theology, and religious his statements about "The Unknowable" are institution. w j t | e iy q ll0 t e d in theological circles. But sociology proper is not a religion, and in its teach- ings is plainly inimical to many of the accretions that to-day pass as religion. To the sociologist as such, religion is one of the aspects of social life, and should be studied dispassionately, without prejudice. Religion has its great social institution in the church; it has its law, its customs and its teachings. It has a history of achievement both good and bad, its leisure class and its masses, its slavery and its freedom. It is subject to the law of change, with resultant degen- eration and elimination on one hand, and survival through adaptation on the other. Unquestionably the influence of comparative science and philosophy will modify its organization and teachings, just as the rise of the state modified its functions. Yet experience shows that humanity preserves its great historic insti- tutions. After countless generations shall have come and gone, society will still probably have its religion and its church, even though they may widely differ in detail from those now existent. 3 1 See reference on p. 25. 2 See his "First Principles." 3 As illustrations of recent utterances on various aspects of re- ligion, may be noted the following: Faunce, W. H. P., "The Edu- cational Ideal in the Ministry"; Guyau, M., "The Non-Religion of the Future "; Hand, J. E. (editor), "Ideals of Science and Faith" (a series of papers); Henderson, Charles R., "Social Duties, from the Christian Point of View"; Jcnks, J. W., "Political and 358 SOCIOLOGY Yet, while sociology is not a religion, concerned as it is with humanity and its improvement, it finds much in common with the ethical aspirations of a religious j-j ie cnurc h so that the two will inevitably element in # t • sociology, unite in ethical policy in coming years. The ethical generalizations of the great religions are broadening out into a common teaching, and their ethical applications in details are more and more com- patible with scientific conclusions. The ethical aims of all religions and sociological teachings will increasingly harmonize just as the theology of religion and the best teachings of science and philosophy tend to conform'; If this be true, there is a sense in which sociology may be looked on as one aspect of religion, since it has im- plicit in its teachings the future social teachings of the church. If religions would pay less attention to the- ologies for a generation or two, and meanwhile- devote themselves to a reorganization of their ethical theories and activities, the church would become a more con- structive institution for human happiness. The ultimate harmony of religion and sociology in ethical policy is curiously foreshadowed by a resem- blance in fundamental Christian and sociological teach- Social Significance of the Life and Teachings of Jesus"; McCabe, Joseph, "The Bible in Europe: An Inquiry Into the Contribution of the Christian Religion to Civilization"; Rauschenbusch, Walter, "Christianity and the Social Crisis"; Smith, Goldvvin, "In Quest of Light"; Vivian, P., "The Churches and Modern Thought," Among recent studies of importance should be mentioned: Josiah Strong, "Religious Movements for Social Betterment," and "Social Work of the Church," being the November (1907) number of Annals, Philadelphia. THE SOCIAL [DEAL 359 ings. Christian teaching, for instance, in brief argues that the natural condition of man demands that he Sociology repent of past sins, become newly born as and it were, live henceforth a righteous life, and re lgion. gQ egca p e £} ie p am f ne U anc J g am ^he joy of heaven, thereby winning an eternity for develop- ment as against the petty duration of human life. The sociological counterpart of this has repeatedly been emphasized in the previous pages. Man is born under natural law, he lives in a pain economy, his environment wars against him and dooms him to de- struction; disease, misery and vices shorten his days. But there is a call to salvation. In the pulsing brains of the surviving "fit" is born a new idea; man must conquer nature, he must no longer cringe like a slave at its manifestations of power, but should proclaim his kinship as being himself a power. This he proves, since by means of his intellect he learns to comprehend nature's laws and utilizes its energy, in order to build up a higher and happier life. He gradually learns to conquer disease and to refrain from vice, and by setting his face toward new ideals he seeks to build up a higher nature that may feel itself to be in harmony with the universe. In so doing man passes from death to life, from a pain economy to a pleasure economy, from genetic to telic development. He no longer fears the hell of nature's eliminating processes, but passes by development into the heaven of achievement. His de- light is in overcoming the evil in life, in casting out as it were social devils by healing the sick, freeing intellects from captivity and giving food to hungry minds. 360 SOCIOLOGY Through achievement he adds attainment to attainment, and develops a firmer idealism as he strengthens his mind by social contact and quiet meditation. Further- more, he learns to regret the fact that his fathers stoned the prophets of science, and determines that from hence- forth he will refrain from dogmatic conclusions and seek for a larger truth. He learns also to recognize the fact that humanity should be a unit, and that salvation is not the privilege of the west only, but is for north and south and east. He sees that mankind is neither black nor white nor yellow nor brown, that it should recognize no distinctions based on sex or race, but that all unitedly may form a com- mon brotherhood who should share their social heritage, changing the selfish exploitation of early years to altru- ism and social service. Finally he looks forward to the time when man will come into his kingdom; when misery, vice and human discord shall have been out- grown, and peace, good will and joyous emulation in achievement prevail among men. In anticipation he feels himself to be part of this glorified humanity, since he also does his share in the world's work, and builds up, be it by ever so little, the achievement and happi- ness of mankind. This joy in companionship with men, past, living or future, is to him immortality, and when death comes, since he also is a true son of man, and like Moses has caught glimpses of the promised land, he goes gladly, trusting that he may be enrolled in the fellowship of those who loved their neighbors as them- selves. When sociology lends itself so readily to a sort of THE SOCIAL IDEAL 361 religious interpretation of social movements, it is not strange that many persons find in it a kind of inspira- The per- ^ on f° r n ^ e - Back of statistics, heartless fection of laws, agnosticism and materialism, is a belief umamty. - m ^ p er f ec tibility of mankind, whether in this world or the next, and perhaps it is of small moment whether it be called religious or sociological. The perfection of humanity on earth, however, lies far in the future, and it may be that thousands of years will be needed before its possibilities become real. Yet the human mind is so constituted that it will continue to dream of the good time coming, and, as it frees itself from error and illusion, its utopianism will grad- ually merge into a science of prevision, and social energy will strive methodically to bring about a social recon- struction, founded on reason, and inspired by the hope of final achievement. / BIBLIOGRAPHY The following references make up a partial list of works relating to the several topics under discussion. As few foreign works as possible are referred to, and these mostly in translation. Special attention may be called to the bibliographies contained in Giddings' "Principles of Sociology," Howard's "Syllabus," and Warner's "American Charities." Adams, Brooks The New Empire. 1902. New York. Addams, Jane Democracy and Social Ethics. 1902. New York. Newer Ideals of Peace. 1907. New York. I^nderson, W. L. The Country Town. 1906. New York. Andrews, E. Benjamin Wealth and Moral Law. 1894. Hartford. Anitchkow, Michael War and Labour. 1900. New York. Bagehot, Walter Physics and Politics. New Edition. 1902. New York. Bailey, William B. Modern Social Conditions. 1906. New York. Baldwin, J. Mark Social and Ethical Interpretations in Mental Develop- ment. 1897. New York. The Story of the Mind. 1898. New York. Bascom, John Social Theory. (A grouping of social facts and princi- ples.) 1895. New York. 363 / 361 BIBLIOGRAPHY Beazley, C. Raymond The Dawn of Modern Geography, (a.d. 300-1420.) Three volumes. 1897-1906. London. Bellamy, Edward Looking Backward. Edition of 1898. Boston. Equality. 1897. New York. Betts, George H. The Mind and its Education. 1906. New York. Billings, John S. (editor) Physiological Effects of Alcohol. Two volumes. 1903. New York and Boston. Blackmar, Frank W. Elements of Sociology. 1905. New York. Bloch, Jean de The Future of War. Translated by R. C. Long. 1899. New York. Boies, Henry M. The Science of Penology. 1901. New York. Bolen, George L. Getting a Living. 1903. New York. Booth, Mrs. Maud B. After Prison, What? 1903. New York. Booth, Charles Life and Labour of the People of London. Seventeen volumes. 1892-1903. London. Brooks, John Graham The Social Unrest. 1903. New York. Bucher, Carl Industrial Evolution. Translated by S. Morley Wickett. 1907. New York. Buck, Winifred Theory and Practice of Boys' Self-Government Clubs. 1906. New York. Bulwer, Edward (Lord Lytton) The Coming Race. 1875. London. BIBLIOGRAPHY 365 \BuTTERFIELD, KENYON L. Chapters in Rural Progress. 1908. University of Chi- cago. Calkins, Raymond Substitutes for the Saloon. 1901. Boston. Carpenter, Edward Civilization, its Cause and Cure. 1895. London. New York. Carus, Paul The History of the Devil, and the Idea of Evil. 1900. Chicago. Carver, Thomas Nixon Sociology and Social Progress. (A series of selected articles.) 1906. Boston. Chalmers, Thomas Christian and Civic Economy of Large Towns. Abridged and edited by C. R. Henderson. 1900. New York. Chancellor, William E. A Theory of Motives, Ideals, and Values in Education. 1907. Boston. Chapin, Robert Coit The Standard of Living among Workingmen's Families in New York City. 1909. New York. Clodd, Edward Pioneers of Evolution from Thales to Huxley. 1897. New York. The Story of Primitive Man. 1895. New York. Committee of Fifteen, Report of The Social Evil. 1902. New York. Committee of Fifty A series of reports in six volumes on various aspects of the liquor problem. For Summary, see under name of Peabody, F. G. Commons, J. R. Races and Immigrants in America. 1907. New York. 366 BIBLIOGRAPHY COMTE, AUGUSTE Cours de philosophie positive. Six volumes. Third edi- tion. 1869. Paris. The Positive Philosophy of Auguste Comte. Translated and condensed by Harriet Martineau. Two volumes. 1853. Three volumes. 1896. London and New York. Systeme de politique positive. Four volumes. 1851-1854. Paris. Positive Polity. Translated under the direction of E. S. Beesley. Four volumes. 1875-1877. London. See also under names of Frederic Harrison, and Lucien Levy-Bruhl. Congress of Arts and Sciences, Papers of the Eight volumes. 1904. St. Louis. See especially Vol- ume V, Division D, Dept. XVI, "Sociology," and Volume VII, Dept. XXII, "Social Science." Conyngton, Mary How to Help. 1906. New York. Cooley, Charles H. Human Nature and the Social Order. 1902. New York. Social Organization. 1909. New York. Crozier, John Beattie Civilization and Progress. Third edition. 1892. Lon- don. History of Intellectual Development. Volumes I and III. 1897. 1901. London. CUBBERLEY, ELLWOOD P. Syllabus of Lectures on the History of Education. Sec- ond edition. 1904. New York. Davenport, F. M. Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals. 1905. New York. Davidson, Thomas A History of Education. 1901. New York. Deniker, J. The Races of Man. 1900. New York. BIBLIOGRAPHY 367 Devine, Edward T. Principles of Relief. 1904. New York. Misery and Its Causes. 1909. New York. Dewey, John, and Tufts, James H. Ethics. 1908. New York. Dexter, Edwin Grant Weather Influences. 1904. New York. A History of Education in the United States (Part III, a study of the extension movement). 1904. New York. Dole, Charles F. The Coming People. 1897. New York. Drummond, Henry The Ascent of Man. 1894. New York. Dutton, Samuel T. Social Phases of Education. 1900. New York. Earp, Edwin L. Social Aspects of Religious Institutions. 1908. New York. Edwards, Richard Henry Studies in American Social Conditions (chiefly biblio- graphical). Eleven planned, five already issued, viz., The Liquor Problem, The Negro Problem, Im- migration, The Labor Problem, Poverty. 1909. Madison, Wisconsin. Eleutheropulos, A. Soziologie. 1904. Jena. Ellis, Havelock Man and Woman. 1894. London. New York. A Study of British Genius. 1904. London. Ely, Richard T. 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The Churches and Modern Thought. 1908. London. Wallace, Alfred R. The Wonderful Century. 1898. New York. Progress of the Century. 1901. New York. Wallis, Louis An Examination of Society from the Standpoint of Evo- lution. 1903. Columbus, Ohio. Ward, C. Osborne The Ancient Lowly. (A history of ancient working peo- ple.) Two volumes. 1889-1900. Washington. Ward, Lester Frank Dynamic Sociology. Two volumes. 1883. New York. Psychic Factors of Civilization. 1893. Boston. Outlines of Sociology. 1898. New York. Pure Sociology. 1903. New York. Text Book of Sociology (Dealey and Ward). 1905. i New York. Applied Sociology. 1906. Boston. 380 BIBLIOGRAPHY Warner, Amos G. American Charities. Revised by Mary Roberts Coolidge. 1908. New York. Webster, Hutton Primitive Secret Societies. 1908. New York. Wells, H. G. Anticipations. 1902. London. New York. Mankind in the Making. 1904. New York. A Modern Utopia. 1905. New York. The Future in America. 1906. New York. Westermarck, E. The History of Human Marriage. 1891. London. New York. Origin and Growth of the Moral Ideas. Two volumes. 1906-1908. White, Andrew D. A History of the Warfare of Science with Theologj in Christendom. Two volumes. 1895. New York. Williams, C. M. A Review of Evolutional Ethics. 1893. London. New York. Willson, Robert N. The American Boy and the Social Evil. 1905. Phila- delphia. Winship, Albert E. Jukes-Edwards. 1900. Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Wood, Wallace (editor) Ideals of Life. A symposium on the coming man. 1892. New York. Wright, Carroll D. V< Practical Sociology. Fifth edition. 1903. New York. Zueblin, Charles The Religion of a Democrat. 1908. New York. BIBLIOGRAPHY 381 The sociological journals best known in this country are: American Journal of Sociology, published bimonthly from July, 1895. University of Chicago. The official organ of the American Sociological Society. The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, published bimonthly from July, 1890. Philadelphia. The Sociological Review, published quarterly, from January, 1908, taking the place of the Sociological Papers issued from 1905-1907 by the Sociological Society of England. Manchester and London. Revue Internationale de Sociologie, published monthly from 1893. Paris. Annates de Vlnstitut International de Sociologie, issued from 1894. Paris. For studies in practical and current topics of social reform the best-known publications are: The Survey (the name assumed April 3, 1909, formerly Chari- ties and the Commons), published weekly by the Charity Organi- zation Society of the City of New York. The Proceedings (annual) of the National Conference of Chari- ties and Corrections. For guide to these, note reference under Johnson, Alexander. Other magazines and quarterlies may be found listed in Warner's "Charities" and in Howard's "Syllabus." See page 363. INDEX Abnegation, 266, 319. Abstract science, 21-27. Accidentals, 267. Accidents, 300, 302. Achievement, Achievements, 39, 43, 59, 67, Chapter III, 90, 182, 356. Animal, 58-60, 90. are mental, 60-61. as civilization, 58, 63. Conscious, 59-60. Cultural, 67, 168-169, 175- 177. Economic, 223-228, 238. Genetic, 176, 247. Ideals of, 63, 361. Material, 64. Multiplication of, 252-253. Scientific, 6, 24, 167. Telic, 176-177. Activities, Activity, Prohibitions on, see Prohibitions. Regulations of, see Regula- tion. Social, 23, 24, 51, 79, 91, 354- 356. Adaptability, Social, 260-261, 272. Adolescent period, 122, 174, 245, 308, 313, 319, 320, 342, 343. Advertisements, Advertiser, 83, 87, 329-330. Affection, Affections, 113, 111. 117-122. See Desires. Age, Dynamic, 266. of discussion, 84-86. of the earth, 191-192. of transition, 152, 226, 306. The psychozoic, 191, 192. Aged, The, 55, 69, 176, 194, 225, 299. Agencies, of society, 51, 87, 241, 338. Educational, see Education. Agricultural civilization, 71, 99- 104, 167. See Civilization, Patriarchal. Mental characteristics of, 100, 113, 202-203, 261. Agriculture, 48, 49, 55, 64. Aim of education, see Educa- tion. Aims, Social, 24, 37, 40, 107, 180. See Goal. Alchemy, 25. Alcoholic beverages, 190, 327- 334. Almsgiving, 162, 298, 299, 303. Altruism, 122, 153, 302. Racial, 47, 202. Social, 39, 45, 161-165, 187, 299. Amalgamation, 55-56, 70, 125, 202-203. 383 384 INDEX Amalgamation, Evils in, 208-209. Racial, 204-209, 277. The final, 206-207. Ambitions, 78, 263-264, - 282, 317-318. America, American, 71, 97, 209- 292, 351 . See United States. Latin, 102, 207, 293. Anachronism, An, 146. Ancestors, 54, 57, 116, 169, 253, 353. of man, Animal, 42, 44, 110, 200. Animal, achievement, 58-60, 90. family, 58-59. Animals, Domestication of, see Domestication. Animistic, 138-140. Anthropocentric, Sociology is, 39. Anthropological, Anthropology, 30, 42, 44, 45, 76, 94, 200. Appetites, Physical, 175, 234. Applications, of principles to phenomena, 26-27, 39, 86- 87, 197. of social psychology to social progress, Chapter XIV. of sociological teaching to so- cial problems, Part II. Applied science, 22, 26, 27, 33. Approbation, Social, 266. "Arabian Nights," Reference to the, 278, 301. Archeological, Archeology, 30, 34. Aristocracy, Aristocratic, 52, 102, 126-127, 182. See Classes, Privileged. Aristotle, 33, 108, 293. Armour Institute of Chicago, 278. Art, Artistic, 238. Arts, The, 28, 39. fine, 27. industrial, 27, 65, 230. Assimilation, 53-56, 70. Association, Associations, Human, 23, 24, 31, 33, 34. International, 8S, 134, 161, 196. Astrology, 25. Astronomical, Astronomy, 21-23, 28, 32, 37, 39. Atavism, 304. Atheism, 139. Athletics, 155, 171. Attitude of mind, An, 25, 351 Authority, 46, 124, 129, 145. ' Band, The hunting or war, 41, 45-48, 55, 93, 124. See Horde. Bellamy, Edward, 39, 198. Bertillon system, The, 307. Betterment, Social, 5, 6, 19, 284. Bible, Allusions to the, 43, 44, 50, 57, 66, 67, 85, 100, 101, 107, 117, 137, 147, 208, 253, 303, 308, 356, 360. Quotations from the, 57, 67, 86, 162, 338, 352. Biological, Biology, 21-23, 28- 30, 32, 37, 40, 74, 75, 123, 251. Birth-rate, The, 121, 205, 209, 214, 316-317. Bismarck quoted, 294. INDEX 385 Border lands of science, 26, 31, 77. Botany, 30. Boycott, The, 329. Brennus, The sword of, 294. Brotherhood of man, The, 122, 162, 294, 356, 360-361. See Fraternity, Humanitarian. Buddha, Buddhism, 268, 294. Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress" referred to, 246, 248. Bushido, 154. Burns, Robert, quoted, 162. Business, 27, 108, 155, 229, 288. Honesty in, 237-238, 297. men, 66, 235-238, 347. Csesar referred to, 97, 101, 264. Cannibalism, 49, 101, 291. Capacity, Dormant, see Dor- mant. Capponi, Gino, quoted, 157. Caste, Castes, 102, 126, 213. Castration, 319. Catholicism, 204. Causation, 54, 274, 341. Causes, of poverty, 300. Ultimate, 20. Celibacy, 91, 114, 214, 264, 319. Evils of, 317-31S. Celibates, Classes of, 214, 316- 317. Century, The eighteenth, 44, 116, 194, 201. The nineteenth, 19, 21, 194, 210, 278, 292. Chance, 139, 195. Change, Social, 194-195, 352. Changes, Dynamic, see Dynamic. Chaos, 68, 166, 198. Charities and the Commons, see Survey. Charity, 189, 241, 299-303. may be injurious, 109, 300, 303. Preventive measures in, 213, 300. Chastity, 114, 116, 149, 31S, 321, 325. Chaucer quoted, 153. Chemical, Chemistry, 21-24, 28- 30, 32, 37, 40. Chicanery, 158, 310. Child-labor, see Labor. Children, 120-121, 171-172, 179, 182, 299, 302, 308. of leisure classes, see Leisure Class. China, 71, 102, 172, 177, 193, 207. Chivalry, 116, 118, 235, 343. Choice, of ends, see Ends. of an occupation, see Occu- pation. Christ, 50, 153. Christianity, 116, 203-204, 294, 359-360. Church, Churches, 115, 155, 244, 308, 330, 338, 357-358. as a social institution, 36, 65, 143-146. defined, 143. membership, 111, 145. Relations of the state to the, 129, 131, 144-145. The Positivist, 25, 357. See Religion. City, The, 103, 127, 278. See Ur- ban. 386 INDEX Civic federation, National, 88. Civil laws, see Laws. Civilization, 19, 23, Chapter III, 90, 282-283. Agricultural, see Agricultural. as achievement, 58, 63. Beginnings of, 46, 50. Cultural, see Cultural. Development of, 239. Dynamic, see Dynamic. Handicaps to, see Handicaps. High, 50, 108, 152, 174. Material, 61-62, 166-168, Chapter XII; defined, 61. Patriarchal, 41, 117, 120, 124- 125, 140, 323. -See Agricul- tural. Plane of, 233. Primitive, 30, 49, 98, 272. Prophets of, 19, 57. Relation of cultural to ma- terial, 62-63, 166-168, Chap- ter XII. Static (Stationary), see Static. Tabu, 150. Telic, 235, 272. Test of, 282. Trend of, see Trend. Western, 41, 71, 128, 194, 290, 337. Class, 83. consciousness, 154. distinctions in culture, 234- 235, 265-266. Middle, 108, 127. morality, 154-160, 208. struggle, 86, 159. Classes, 213. Classes, of celibates, 214, 316-317. Privileged, 107, 222. See Lei- sure Class. Social, 126. The real, 182-183. Classification of the Sciences, see Sciences. Clergy, The, 83, 139, 214, 317, 331. See Priesthood. Climate, 80, 96, 201, 214-216. Code, Codes, 142. Codes of Morals, see Morals. Codification, 143. Cohesion, Group, 157. Collective telesis, 80. College, Colleges, 6, 172, 239, 246, 254, 344. degree, The, 344. See Curric- ulum, University. Colony, The disciplinary, 153, 302, 311, 312, 336. The industrial, 322. Colonization, 127. Columbus, 194, 351. Commandments, The, 147. Commentaries, 156, 306. Commerce, 53, 55, 71, 96, 103- 104, 140. Its influence on the state, 127- 134. Commissions, 88, 196, 223, 310. Commonwealths, 38. Communal property, see Prop- erty. Competition, 50, 64, 277. in economic life, 66, 205. Complexity of the sciences, see Sciences. Compromise, The, 259. INDE.v 387 Comte, Auguste, 19-22, 25, 34, 36, 37, 356. Concrete, The, 21, 26-30, 36. Conditions, see for reference the particular word modifying this term. Conduct, see Prohibitions, Regu- lations. Conflict, Social, 53-54, 82. Conflicting standards, see Crimes, Morals. Conjugal relationship, 115-119, 319, 320, 324-327, 350. Conquest, 55. of nature, see Nature. Conscience, 122, 160, 189, 292. Freedom of, 143, 164. Social, 62, 152. See Freedom. Conscious imitation, see Imita- tion. Conscious reasoning, see Reason- ing. Consciousness, Class, 154. Social, 86, 356. Conservatism, Natural, 56, 60, 69, 80, 193, 272. Contagion, Social, 83, 85, 269. Control, Social, 83, 88-89, 198, 258-259, 263-269, 280-281. Conversion, 176. Codperation, Social, 38, 39, 79, 89. Coordination of the sciences, see Sciences Corporations, 158, 242, 278, 306. Correctional,see Colonies, Schools. Cosmic, 32, 34, 51, 64, 139, 145, 218, 245, 259, 357. Cosmology, 139. Cosmopolitan, 128, 161. Cotton, Cotton-gin, 71, 275. Creations, Human, 32, 64. Natural, 30, 64. Crime, Crimes, are unnatural, 313. Conflicting standards in, 305- 306, 308-309. Development of, 304-306. Lessening of, 311-313. Punishment for, 148, 306-307. Remedies for, 307-308, 336. Criminal, code, 306, 313. laws, 148, 296, 306, 310, 312, 336. practice, 311. Crowd, The, 45, 270. Crowd, Psychology of the, 83- 85, 269. Crozier, John Beattie, 249. Cruelty, 144, 148, 163. of nature, 48, 187, 283. Cultural, Culture, achievements, see Achieve- ments, civilization, 62-63, 119, 136. See Chapter XII. defined, 62, 167, 168, 236. Class distinctions in, 234-235, 265-266. desires, 175. development, 40, 79, 166-183. education, 173, 242. ideals and ideas, 61, 62, 79, 170, 239, 247, 249, 343. See Civilization, Material. Curriculum, The, 172, 255. Custom, Customs, 19, 46, 52, 54, 68-72, 95. Primitive, 146-147. 388 INDEX Darwin, Charles R., 59, 219. Darwinism, 74, 289, 291. Data, see Sciences, Sociology. Dead line, The, 69. Deductions, Deductive, 20. Degenerate, stocks, 307-308, 311. members of the leisure class, see Leisure Class, races, see Races. Degeneration, 170, 205, 208, 272, 303. Democracies, 132. Democracy, Democratic, 108, 125-137, 223, 256-257, 289, 356. Conditions suitable for, 132- 133. Depravity, Natural, 149, 164, 241, 306, 311, 334. Desires, The, 78-79, 92, 93, 175, 263. Sexual, see Sexual Feelings. Deterioration, see Degeneration, Races. Determining influence of condi- tions, 80-81, 96, 231-233. See Economic, Environ- ment. Development, Cultural, see Cul- tural. Early social, Chapter II. Economic, 96-109. Genetic, see Genetic. Human, see Progress, in civilization, see Civilization. Intellect, as a factor in, see Intellect, of social institutions, Chapters V-VIII. Development, Stages in, 147, 149; 150, 221, 226, 264, 281- 283, 295-296. Telic, 84, 119, 133, 340-341. Theories of social, 51-57. Devine, Edward T., 304. Dexter, Edwin Grant, 81. Dickens, Charles, quoted, 245, 310. Dietetics, 240, 290, 319, 335. Disciplinary colonies, see Colony. Discipline in family and school, 150, 153, 265. Discoveries, Scientific, see Scien- tific. Discussion, Age of, 84-86. Disease, Diseases, 6, 188-189, 214, 300-301. See Sexual. Distinctions, Class, see Class. Divine, Divinity, 36, 67, 139, 145, 188. See God, Gods. Divorce, 114, 119, 129, 150, 324. Dogma, Dogmas, 71, 248, 255. Dogmatic attitude of mind, 141, 244, 261-262, 360. Dogmatism, 38, 142, 145, 196, 212. Domestication of Animals, 48, 49, 55, 64, 99. Dormant capacity or energy, 72, 81, 82, 167, 179-183, 212, 232. Drunkard, 153, 336. Drunkenness, 312, 331-337. Regulation of, 336. See In- temperance. Dynamic, age, 266. changes, 82, 96, 170. civilization, 70, 151, 156, 192, 194, 250. INDEX 389 Dynamic, conditions, 84. defined, 69-71. energy, 78. Earth, The, 20, 24, 30, 50, 73. Age of, 191-192. East, The, 141, 194, 195, 266. Economic, achievements, see Achievements, competition, 66, 205. conditions, 96-102, 213, 215- 216, 218, 321, 322. determinism, SO, 215-216. See Determinism, development, 96-109. factors in social progress, 68, 94-95, Chapter XL interests, 221-222, 297. interpretation of history, 94, 198, 274. problems of the United States, see United States, standards, 213, 237-238. Economics, 33, 34, 40. Economy, Pain and pleasure, 163, 164, 188, 359. Education, 178-179, 330-331. Agencies for, 5, 250, 290, 336. Aim of, 27, 244-245. as a factor in social progress, 133, Chapter XIII. as a factor in temperance, 330- 331. Change through, 86. Compulsory, 171-173, 282, 290. Cultural, 173, 242. Higher, 172, 255-257. Education, Indust.-ial, 204, 228- 230, 242, 255. in sexuality, 123, 316, 319-320, 325-326. in the United States, 278-279. Opportunities for, 131, 173,257. Public, 78, 136, 229-230, 243- 244, 296. Science of, 27, 243. Systems of, 71, ISO. Edwards, R. H., 226, 276, 304, 337. Eighteenth century, see Century. El Dorado, 47. Elijah's prayer, 262. Elimination, 2S1-282. of social evils, 176, Chapters XV-XVII. of the higher, 211. of the vicious, 115, 316. of the weak, 50, 72, 211, 213, 284-286, 316. of waste, see Waste, and Se- gregation. Elite, The, 173, 1S2, 232, 271, 324, 326. Elysium, 5. Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 231. Emigration, see Migration. Empirical, 27, 45, 83. Ends, Choice of, 347-350. Energy, 24, 78. Control of social, see Control Social. Dormant, see Dormant. Misdirected, 306. Social, 222, 280-283, 361. Environing conditions, 63-64, 68, 334-335, 341-342. 390 INDEX Environment, 68. See Chapter XI. Changing or varying, 55. Fixed or static, 54. for primitive man, 44-48. Influence of physical, 80-81. See Economic. Influence on religion, 140-141. Man determined by, 217, 231- 232. See Determining, modified by the intellect, 24, 64, 97, 216-221. Equality, Human, 116, 201. Equilibrium, 53, 71. Error, Errors, 36, 248, 262. Esthetic, The, 27, 43, 65", 95, 140, 16S-169, 174, 239, 343. See Art. Ethical, reforms, 165. standards, 62, 209. Ethics, 22, 33, 34, 36, 310. Humanitarian, 161-165. Natural, 293-294. of sexuality, 318, 324-327. Social, 159, 320-321. Sociological, 358-301. See Moral, Morals. Ethnography, 30. Ethnological, Ethnology, 30, 34, 42, 45, SO, 81, 94, 138, 200. Etiquette, The rules of, 151. Eugenics, 212-213. Europe, 71, 102, 126, 198, 211, 312, 329, 332. Evils, 265, 280-281, 321. in amalgamation, 208-209. of celibacy, 317-318. Social, 40, 285-286. Evils, The elimination of social, 176, Chapters XV-XVII. Evolution, 51, 341, 355. of life, 30, 42, 78, 110. Social, 35, 51, 166. Telic, 198-199. Exactness of knowledge, 21-23, 26. See Positivity. Experiment, 27, 39, 59, 341. Experience, 5, 20, 27, 47, 86, 122, 193. Exploit, Exploiting, 62, 126. Exploitation, 161, 187, 226, 291- 297, 360. Extermination, 202. See Segre- gation. Factors, in social progress, see Progress. Racial, see Racial. Fads, 87, 98, 269, 346. Family, The, 37, 46, 110-123. affection, see Affection. Discipline in, see Discipline. Kinship in the, see Kinship. The animal, 58-59. Fatalism, Fatalist, 195, 266, 279. Fate, 195. Faunce, William H. P., 357. Feelings, The, 45, 342. See De- sires. as social forces, 78-80. as the primary part of the mind, 78, 90, 314-315. Female, The, 100, 101, 149, 323- 327. See Woman. Fervor, Religious, 25. Fetishism, 138. Filiation, 22, 23, 91. INDEX 391 Fine arts, The, see Arts. Finite, Finiteness, 20, 25, 28, 37, 67. See Mind. Flexibility, 260, 341, 353-356. Flora and fauna, 30, 220. Food, Foods, 40, 47-48, 55, 79, 98-101, 105, 215-216, 241. Preservation of, 98-99. Forces, Social, 6, 89, 91-92, 263- 265, 282, 319. See Feelings. Forces, Utilization of natural, see Utilization. Foresight, 122, 210, 274, 278. Forethought, 75, 99, 100. Forms of government, see Gov- ernment. Fossils, 30. France, French, 44, 132, 162, 163, 177, 194, 235. Fraternalism, 304. Fraternities, 111, 157, 299. Freedom, in marriage contract, 115, 119-120, 150. in morality, 160, 163. of speech and thought, 131, 248, 254. See Conscience. Friction, Social, 82-S3, 86, 170. Fundamentals, Social, 80, 125, 197-198, 244, 284, 291. Galton, Francis, 212-213. Games, 224, 266. See Play. Generalizations, 20-29, 152. Genetic, 178 195. 274-279. Defined, 67. development, 67, 82, 84, 107, 133, 155, 176, 202, 210, 235. growth, 84. waste, 178-181. Genius, 68, 82,2 35-240, 267-269. Genius, The, 53, 83, 235, 256. Geology, 30, 251. Germany, 97, 101, 128, 207, 300. Giddings, Frank H., 22, 54, 76. Gilds, 224, 225. Goal, The social, 35, 37, 72, 80, 165, 189, 249, 285-286, 338. See Aim, Ideal. God, 82, 111, 140-141, 144. Gods, The, 44, 67, 126, 139. See Divine. Good, The, 65, 67, 166, 169. Goodness, Social, 169. Government, 40, 65, 71, 93, 193, 342. Forms of, 125, 222. See Aris- tocratic, Democratic. Machinery of, 134, 222-223, 342. Grail, The holy, 250. Greek, 43, 127, 140, 166, 169, 173, 248. Gregarious, 45. Group, The, 30, 31, 32, 41, 65, 67, 196, 233, 252, 253. beliefs, 31. cohesion, 157. morality, 157-160. Primitive, 43-44, 52, 54, 95, 200. safety, 46, 47, 147, 159. Social, 50, 75, 150-160. utility, 46, 111. Hall, G. Stanley, 320. Handicaps, 108, 239, 315. to civilization, 38, 191, 203- 204, 273. 392 INDEX Handicaps, to progress, 6, 24, 61, 69, 189, 272. Happiness, Human, 38, 134, 163-165, 175, 188-189, 239, 252, 282, 350. Harrison, Frederic, 25. Heaven, 359. Hector's prayer, 262. Hell, 164, 359, Henderson, Charles R., 304, 326, 357. Heresy, 144, 169. Heredity, 174, 212-213, 235, 259, 306. Heritage, Social, 360. Hierarchy, 142, 247. ''High finance," 294. Hindrances, see Handicaps. History, Economic interpreta- tion of, 94, 274. Materialistic interpretation of, 198. Honesty in business, see Business. Honor, 154-155. Hope, 39, 218. The stimulus of, 266. Hopefulness, Social, 106, 272, 279-280. Horde, The, see Group, Primi- tive. Hours of labor, see Labor. Housing conditions, 181, 211, 241, 321, 333, 335. Hubbard, Elbert, 236. Human nature, 150, 238, 348. Humanitarian ethics, 161-165. progress, see Progress. Humanitarianism, 52, 112, 141, 189, 255, 294, 299, 356. Humanity, 206. The perfection of, 193, 361. Hunting, band, The, see Band. Huxley, Thomas Henry, 166, 248. Hypnotism, Social, 83. Hypotheses, 26, 34, 38, 42. Idea, Ideas, 21, 47, 55, 61, 68. Cultural, see Cultural. Ideal, The social,~256-257, Chap- ter XIX. See Goal. Idealism, 25, 245, 271. Moral, 164-165. Ideals, 55. Cultural, see Cultural. Modern, 356. of achievement, 63, 361. of morality, 117-122. Personification of, 122. Ignorance, 147, 150, 181, 270, 287-291, 296, 300. Maternal, 121. Illusion, 167, 262, 269, 361. Imagination, 39, 71, 173. Imitation, 53, 54, 61, 168. Conscious, 60, 88. • Rational, 87-S8. Semi-conscious, 87. Social, 46, 52-54, 56, 68, 81, S4, 95, 206, 235. Immigration, 209-211, 275-277. Immorality, Sexual, 314-327. Immortality, 36, 188, 359-360. Immortals, The, 66, 257. India, 60, 86, 102, 126, 166, 207, 351. Individual, 32, 46, 67, 82, 283- 284. INDEX 393 Individual, psychology, 76. Individualism, 39, 46, 258-259. a social necessity, 270-271. defined, 270. Individualistic, 115, 143, 354. codes of morals, 160. Individuality, 269-27 1 . See Per- sonality. Individuals, The progress of, Chapter XVIII. Inductive method of study, 20, 35, 71. Industrial arts, 27, 65, 230. colonies, 322. See Colony, education, see Education. Industries, The, 69, 103, 180- 181. See Manufactures. Inertia, 56, 68, 193, 251, 352. Infanticide, 55. Influence of woman, see Woman. Information, 20, 25, 26, 29, 75, 344. See Education. Initiative, Private, 107, 229, 258-259. Innovations, 6," 53, 54, 56, 57, 196, 258. Innovator, The, 55, 248. Insight, 65, 78, 107, 140, 191, 271, 280. See Intuition. Instinct, Instincts, 59, 60, 90. Institutions, Social, 36, 40, 47, 91-92, 259-261. defined, 92-93. Development of, 51, Chapters V-VIII. Insurance, German system of , 300. Intellect, 75, 90-91, 268, 285. as a factor in development, 52-53, 106, 359-360. Intellect, as a guide to the feel- ings, 78, 90-91, 93. as a modifier of environment, 64, 97, 216-220. Growth of the, 44, 46, 79. See Mind. Historical development and training of the, 343-347. Intemperance, 38, 327-337. Evils of, 327. Physiological aspects of, 333- 334. Psychological aspects of, 332- 333. Suggestions in respect to, 328- 332. Interests, 41, 53, 68, 83, 84, 91, 196, 268, 295-296. Clash of, 86, 158-160. Regulation of economic, 221- 222. Unity of, 297. International associations, 88, 134, 161, 196. Interpretation, 74, 92, 156. See History. Introspective, 20, 31. Intuition, 38, 78, 345. See In- sight. Invention, 6, 32, 71, 103-105, 174, 227, 241, 257. Inventors, 219, 227-228. Investigations, 29, 96, 187. Jail, The, 153, 312. Japan, Japanese, 71, 154, 194, 196, 206, 238. Judgments, 152, 173' 269, 273. Jukes, The, 304. 394 INDEX Jukes-Edwards, 308. Juvenile court, 30S, 312. Kant, Immanuel, 249. Kin, Kindred, Kinship, 41, 45, 46, 52, 54, 65, 294, 299. denned, 110-111. Kipling's " Captains Coura- geous," 322. Kropotkin, Prince, 59. Knowledge, 20-40, 287-291. Absolute, 20, 248, 262. Availability for progress, 197. Exactness of, 21-23, 26. Importance of, 20, 28, 346- 347. Positivity or verifiability of, 20, 21, 35, 40. Relativity of, 20, 37, 261-263. Scientific, 20, 28, 32, 35, 36, 39. Unity of, 22, 25, 28, 34, 38, 67, 250. Utility of, 245-249. Kulpe, Oswald, 36. Labor, 100, 224, 294-295. Child, 277, 278, 335. Hours of, 106, 134, 181. unions, 221, 226, 229-230, 241. Unskilled, 106, 134, 181, 208- 211, 218, 242, 276-277, 333. See Colony, Proletariat. Laboratory, The, 174, 223, 247. Land, The, 45, 49, 242, 275. Language, 30, 47, 56, 60, 65, 66; 168, 243, 244, 290. Latent, see Dormant. Latin America, 102, 207, 293. Law, Laws, 40, 65, 115, 135, 310. Civil, 125, 290, 298. Criminal, 148, 296, 306, 310, 312, 336. Natural, 24, 37. Scientific, 25-27, 135. See Sociological. Lawmaking, 132, 135-137. Law schools, 310. Lawyer, The, 158, 295, 310. Lea, Henry C, 148, 318. Leaders in society, 68, 82-86, 188, 235, 247, 253, 283-284, 348-349. See Businessmen. "Leading citizens," 304, 305. League for the protection of the family, 123. Le Bon, Gustave, 84. Legal system, 107, 295, 310. Legislation, 135-136, 156. Commission on uniform, 223. Scientific, 108, 136. Legislative reference bureau, The, 223. ' Legislators, 214, 310. Leisure, 62, 105, 167. Leisure class, The, 63, 116, 121, 125, 159, 167, 170-183, 232- 239, 247, 256, 292, 298. Children of, 120, 171-172. defined, 102, 232. Degenerate members of, 63, 102, 170, 176, 232-233, 321. Membership in, 134, 170, 176- 183. Priestly, 170. See Elite. Leland, C. G., 326, 343. Levy-Bruhl, Lucien, 22, 37, 194. INDEX 395 Liberty of conscience, see Con- science. License system, The, 32S. Life, 23, 32. and property, 155. Sanctity of, 320. Standards of, 46, 105-106, 108, 206-207. The simple, 39, 43, 103, 166, 231, 285. The strenuous, 194. worth living, 175, 252, 361. Logic, logical, 21-25, 34, 65, 91. Love, 90, 323-324. See Con- jugal, Maternal. , Luck, 138, 176. Lynching, 83, 305. Machiavelli, Niccolo, 157, 294, 305. Machinery, 60. Governmental, 134, 222-223, 342. Mental, 345. Social, 222, 353. Mackenzie, J. S., 36, 74, 255. Magic, 25. Male, The, 100, 101, 111, 114, 119, 149, 322-326. Malthus, Malthusianism, 48-49, 55, 100, 106, 187-188. Man, Animal descent of, 42, 44, 110, 200. Brotherhood of, see Brother- hood, determined by environment, see Determining, non-social by nature, 45. Man, Primitive or Savage, see Primitive. Manufactures, 96, 103-104. Marriage, 211, 316-319, 323-327. Freedom of contract in, 115, 119-120, 150. The institution of, 65, 93, 112. Monogamous, 59, 112, 113, 116-120, 318. Permanency of, 112, 115. Polygamous, 59, 116, 117, 120. Prohibitions on, 115, 316. Regulations of, 93, 95, 112, 115, 150. See Mating. Martyrdom, 57, 86. Masturbation, 317, 318. Material civilization, see Civiliza- tion, Cultural. Materialistic interpretation of history, 198. Materials, Natural, see Utiliza- tion. Maternal, 45, 52, 110, 120-121, 164, 193. Mathematics, 21-23, 26, 28, 65, 211, 243, 290. Mating, The basis of, 79, 95, 112-113, 326. Medical science, 322. See Phy- sician. Memorization, Memory, 60, 244, 344, 345. Mental processes, The, 344-346. See Intellect, Mind. Mental characteristics of, see Agriculture, Primitive. Mentality, see Mind. Metaphysical, 20. See Philos- ophy. 396 IXDKX Middle class, The, see Class. Might is right, 294, 305. Migration, 49, 55, 97, 201. See Immigration. Millennium, The, 19. Milton's "Paradise Lost," 258. Mind, 20, 23, 31, 52, 04, 67, 75, 77-80, 94. Attitude of, 25, 351. See Dog- matic, defined, 78. Development of the, 40, 50, 64, 78. See Intellect. Finiteness of the, 20, 25, 28, 37, 67. Fundamental feelings of the, 78, 90. Machinery of the, 345. The individual, 31, 32. The receptive, 173-174. The social, 31-32, 76, 79, 81- 89. Misdemeanors, 312. Misery, see Pain. Missionary movements, 122, 162, 204. Modernism, 193. Modification, Modifications, see Economic factors, Environ- ment. Mohammedanism, 204. Monogamy, see Marriage. Monopolies, 131, 225-228, 242. Moral, idealism, 164-165. problems, 25. standards, 151-160. Morality, Class, 154-160, 208. Freedom in, 160, 163. Group, 157-160. Morality, Ideals of, 117-122. Scientific basis for, 40, 239, 251. Sex, 114-115, 324-327. Morals, 43, 95, 165. Codes of, 37, 155-157, 160. Differing codes of, 150-161. Higher standards in, 150. Institution of, 146-165. related to sociology, 36, 358- 361. Three stages of, 147, 149, 150. See Development, Stages in. More, Sir Thomas, 39, 198, 255. Morley, John, 44, 194. Morris, William, 198, 297, 312. Movement, Prohibition, 327, 335. Movements, Missionary, 122, 162, 204. Social, 52, 195, 361. Narcotics, 327, 334. National, civic federation, 88. league for the protection of the family, 123. Nations, 60, 61, 68, 86, 167. Rise and fall of, 42, 68, 72, 104, 194, 241. Naturalization, 276. Natural selection, 299, 314, 337. See Survival. Natural, Nature, 38, 44, 64, 269, 291-292, 340. Conquest of, 50, 217-220, 359. conservatism, see Conserva- tism, creations, 30, 64. Cruelty of, 48, 187, 283. INDEX 39? Natural, depravity, see Deprav- ity, ethics, 293-294. Human, 150, 238, 348. law, 24, 37. Materials and forces of, see Utilization. • too prolific, 187. See Mal- thus. Negro, The, 206-207, 210, 275. Nervous system, The, 29, 169, 201, 237, 281, 333. Nietzsche, Friedrich, 50, 305. Nineteenth century, see Century. Nobility, The, see Classes, Priv- ileged. Nomadism, 48, 99-101. See Do- mestication. Non-social nature of man, 45. Observation, Method of, 20, 31, 59, 173, 344. Obsolete, The, 134, 152, 172, 197, 353. Occupation, Occupations, 100, 179, 224. Choice of an, 349. Pursuit of an, 350. Opinion, Public, 40, 49, 82, 115, 119, 120, 135, 150, 153, 156, 157, 266. Opportunities for education, 131, 173, 257. Opportunity, A fair, 40, 108, 131, 134, 272. Optimism, 19, 188, 195, 279. Order, 26, 30. of the sciences, 21-23. Social, 38, 47, 54, 65, 91, 259. Organic, 74. Organisms, 30, 92. Organization, Social, 24, 39, 40, 93, 120, 143, 271, 313. Oriental, 41, 296. Ovid, 43, 49. Owen, Robert, 278. Pain, 134, 164, 1S7, 281-282. Pain economy, 163, 188, 189, 359. Palissy, Bernard, 264. Panaceas, Social, 5, 19, 38, 189, 190, 274. Pantheism, 139. Paradise, 19, 43, 82, 263. "Paradise Lost," 258. Paradox, 50, 158. Parasites, Social, 176, 182-183, 296-297, 302. Parties, Political, 130. Patent medicines, 190, 334. Patents, 220, 226, 227, 275. Patriarchal civilization, 41, 117, 120, 124-125, 140, 323. See Agricultural, Nomadism. Patriotism, 47, 122. Patten, Simon N., 163. Pauperism, 34, 38, 211, 232, 298-304. distinguished from poverty, 298-299. See Poverty. Peace, 50-51, 57, 148. Peasant population, 102, 117, 237. Pearson, Karl, 22. Penologists, 213, 308. Penology, see Crime, Punish- ment. 398 INDEX Peonage, 292-293. Perfection of humanity, 193, 361. Permanency, see Marriage, Re- ligion. Personality, Importance of, 82- 86, 92, 267, 342, 348-350, 354. Personification of ideals, 122. Perverts, 123, 320, 322. Pessimism, 188, 195, 273, 279, 352. Social, 20, 31-34, 91. Philanthropic, 5, 318, 329. Philology, 30. Philosophers, 24, 34, 43, 67, 139, 140, 166-167, 231, 285. Philosophy, 20, 24, 95, 138', 167, 247, 249-250. defined, 34-35. related to sociology, 35-36. Physical, appetites, 175, 234. environment, see Environment. Physician, The, 83, 139, 153, 322. Physiological aspects of intem- perance, 333-334. Physique, Human, 240, 265, 268. Physics, 21, 22, 24, 28, 30, 32, 37, 39. Plane of civilization, The, 233. Plato, 7, 39, 44, 96, 108, 166, 172, 177, 197, 198, 212, 246, 293. Play, Importance of, 168, 224, 240. See Games. Pleasure, 79, 281-2S2. See Hap- piness. Pleasure economy, 164, 189, 359. Policies, Policy, constructive, 6, 20, 69, 136. Policy, Social, 5, 6, 214. or Purpose, Telic, 6, 86, l!l(i. 211, 213, 256, 274, 277, 341, Chapter XVIII. defined, 191. Political parties, 130. Politician, 158. Polygamy, 59, 116, 117, 120. Population, 98, 100, 102, 117, 237, 242, 278. School, 290. Positivist church, The, 25, 357. Positivity of knowledge, 20, 21, 22, 35, 40. Posterity, The worship of, 115. Poverty, 178, 298-304, 334. Causes of, 300. distinguished from pauperism, 298-299. See Pauperism. Pressure, Social, 31, 81-82. Preventive measures in charity, see Charity. Prevision, 37, 38, 75, 248, 341, 361. Priest, Priesthood, 39, 69, 141- 142, 236. See Clergy. Priestly leisure class, 142. Primitive, civilization, 30, 49, 98, 272. customs, 146-147. environment, 44-^8. mentality, 49, 138-140. savage, 41-49, 59, 60, 337. tabu, 48, 147. Principles, see Applications, So- ciological. Private property, see Property. Privileged classes, see Classes. Probation system, 153, 308, 312, 332, 336. INDEX 399 Problems, Social, 50, 160, 218, 273. See Part II. Processes, The mental, see Men- tal. Professional, 69, 108, 133, 230. Profits, 241, 292-295, 330. Progress, Social, 6, 19, 29, 35, 38, 40, '61-63, 72, Chapter IX. Basis for, 20, 197. Economic factors in, Chapter XI. Educational factors in, Chap- ter XIII. Handicaps to, see Handicaps. Hindrances to, see Handicaps. Individual, Chapter XVIII. Policy of, 352. Racial factors in, Chapter X. Social psychology and, Chap- ter XIV. versus status, 56, 341. Prohibition movement, 327, 335. Prohibitions, on activities and conduct, 46, 123, 147, 264, 354. on marriage, 115, 316. Proletariat, The, 188, 210, 218, 241, 277, 321, 338. See La- bor, Unskilled. Propagation, Suppression of, 212, 322, 356. See Segre- gation. Property, 106-107, 125, 298. Communal, 106, 109, 298. Private, 107, 125, 158. Prophecy, Prophetic, 38, 146,198. Scientific, 37, 274. Prophets, 67, 68, 141, 238, 360. of civilization, 19, 57. Prostitution, 114, 317, 318, 338. Protestantism, 204. Protoplasmic cell, 30. Psychological aspects of intem- perance, 332-333. Psychology, 32, 40, 251. as a science, 21-23, 35-36. defined, 30-31. Individual. 76. of the crowd, 83-85, 269. related to sociology, 28-32,77- 80. Social, 31, 34, Chapter IV, 76, 77. Applications of, Chapter XIV. Public, education, see Education. opinion, see Opinion, schools, see Schools. Punishment, 153. for crime, 148, 306-307. Reforms in, 311-312. Purpose, Telic, see Policy, Telic. Race, safety, 165. suicide, 205, 210, 211, 277. Races, 30. Degenerate, 43. Superior, 55, 200-203. Weaker, 43, 56, 200-203. Racial, altruism, 47, 202. deterioration, 56. differences, 200-201. factors in social progress, Chapter X. progress, 121, 202-203. struggles, 206, 207-208. vigor, 316. Radicalism, 5, 69, 169, 271. 400 INDEX Radicals, 56, 61, 80. Raleigh, Sir Walter, 48. Rational imitation, 87, 88. Reasoning, 59, 78, 90, 344-346. See Intellect. Mind. Receptive mind, The, 173-174. Reconstruction, Social, 361. Reference bureau, Legislative, 223. Reflection, 20, 53, 88. Reforms, 19, 165. Social, 20, 33, 189-190. Summary of social, 337-339. Regeneration, Social, 5. Regulations, of conduct and activity, 46. of marriage, see Marriage. Social, 93, 161. Relation of cultural to material civilization, see Cultural. Relationship, Conjugal, see Con- jugal, of the sciences, see Sciences, of church and state, see Church. Sexual, see Sexual. Relativity of knowledge, 20, 37, 261-263. Religion, 34, 43, 59, 85, 164, 203-204, 294-295, 317-318. Beginnings of, 138. Influence of environment on, 140-141. of humanity, 25, 356-357. Permanency of, 145-146. related to sociology, 36-37, 138, 146, 357-361. Teachings of, 36-37, 95, 142- 143. Religious, fervor, 25. Religious, freedom, see Con- science, institution, The, 5, 36, 83, 138-146. secrets, 142. symbols, 71, 140, 142, 153. teachers, 114, 153, 359. See Clergy, teachings, Rigidity in, 142- 143. Remorse, 307, 313. Reorganization, Social, 5, 55, 194, 197. Revolutions, 194, 195, 199. Right, Rights, 160, 165, 225, 293, 321. Woman's, see Woman. Rigidity, 142-143, 222, 260, 272, 275. Ripley, William Z., 80, 202. Rise and fall of nations, see Na- tions. Roman, Rome, 5, 43, 60, 111, 116, 127-128, 148, 154, 156, 259. Romance nations, 207, 208, 235, 277. Romanes, George John, 59. Romanticism, 118. Ross, Edward A., 54, 88, 92, 205. Rousseau, Jean Jacques, 19, 44, 194, 285. Safety, Group, see Group. Race, 165. Saloon, The, 221, 328, 331, 334- 335, 356. Saloons, Location of, 334. Salvation, 359-361. INDEX 401 Samurai, 154, 238. " Samuri, The order of the, 182. Sanctity of life, 320. Saracenic civilization, 71. Savage, see Primitive. School population, 290. Schools, 174, 245, 276, 308, 310, 330. See Education. Science, 6. Applied, 26. Border lands of, 26, 31, 77. Concrete, see Concrete. Empirical, see Empirical. Pure, 26. Three aspects of, 25-26. Theories of, 24, 27. Utility of, 23-24, 39. Sciences, 244. Basis for the, 21. Classification of the, 20-25. Comparative, 30. Complexity of the, 23-25. Coordination of the, 21. Data for the, 21. Filiation of the, 23, 28. Historical order of the, 24-25, 30. Order of the, 21-23. Positivity of the, see Positivity. Relationship of the, 23, 28, 38. Series of the, see Series. The special social, 29, 32-34, 40, 74. Scientific, achievements, 6, 24, 167. attainment, 24. basis for morality, 40, 239, 251. discoveries, 39, 71, 220, 228. Scientific, hypotheses, see Hy- potheses, knowledge, 20, 28, 32, 35, 36, 39. laws, 25-27, 135. legislation, 108, 136. methods, 40. principles, 21, 28. Scientist, The, 38, 139, 228. Secret knowledge, 142, 227. Segregation, 213, 221, 303, 306- 307, 311-312, 316, 320-321. See Elimination, Propaga- tion. Selection, Natural, see Natural. Self-Control, 79, 115, 163, 244, 319. Sensations, 77. Senses, 344. Separation of church from state, see Church. Serfdom, 50, 292. Series of sciences, 21, 23, 26, 32, 250. Sex morality, 114-115, 324-327. Sexual, desires, 79, 90, 114-115, 149, 208, 314, 319. diseases, 316, 317, 322. immorality, 314-327. relations, 112, 114-117. standards, 114, 116-120, 318, 324-325. tabu, 114, 315, 319. vices, 38, 114, 315. Sexuality, Education in, 123, 316, 319-320,325-326. Ethics of, 318, 324-327. Simple iife, The, see Life. Sin, Sins, 273, 280, 321, 359-360. 402 INDEX Slavery, 101-102, 106, 292. A new, 171-172. Slaves, 50, 113, 275. Small, Albion W., 54. Smith, Adam, 226. Smithing, 103. Social, see in Index the particu- lar word modified by this adjective. Socialism, 3, 25, 198, 259, 356. Socialization, 89, 284, 299, 313, 354. Society, 6, 27, 50, 61, 213, 312. Activities of, see Activities. Agencies of, see Agencies. Aims or ambitions of, see Aims, defined, 41-42. Leaders in, see Leaders. Organic nature of, 74. Unit of, 47, 52. Sociological, data, 29. ethics, 358-361. importance of scientific knowl- edge, 28-29. principles, 6, 26, 29, 33, 35, 38, 40, 52, 54. psychology, 31, 77. theory, 38, 351. Sociologist, Sociologists, 7, 20, 26, 29, 31, 34, 37, 51-54, 81, 88, 91. Sociology, 249. Applied, 22, 27, 33. as related to achievement, 58. morals, 36, 35S-361. other sciences, 76. philosophy, 35-36. psychology, see Psychology, religion, see Religion. Sociology, as related to social problems, 5, 273-274. Basal sciences for, 29, 74-75. Data for, 29, 32. defined, 30-31, 33. Field of, 20. Formative stage of, 29, 34. Function of, 19, 20. Importance of, 19. is anthropocentric, 39. Principles of, see Sociological. Pure, 22, 27, 33. Science of, Chapter I, 73. Teachings of, 5, 7, Part I. Utility of, 190-192. Socrates, 141, 172, 188. Solar system, 20, 24, 30. Solidarity of the race, 52. Sorcerers, 141. "Soul liberty," 143. Special social sciences, 29, 32- 34, 40, 74. Specialists, 28, 34. Speculations, 26, 29. Speech, Freedom of, see Free- dom. Spencer, Herbert, 21, 22, 34, 51- 52, 54, 74, 96, 310, 341, 357. Stages, of moral development, The three, see Morals. of social development, The three, see Development, Stages of. Standards, 84, 87, 202, 222, 265. Economic, see Economic. Ethical, 62, 151-160, 209. of life, see Life. of positivity, 21-22. Sexual, see Sexual. INDEX 403 Standards, Static, 169. State, The, 252, 254. Beginnings of, 123-125. Development of, 123-137. Duties of, 124, 220-223, 226, 296. influenced by commerce, 127- 134. Powers of the, 129-131, 329- 330. Relations with the church, 129, 131, 144-145. See Government. Statesmen, 137, 158, 223, 227, 295. Static civilization, 54, 69-70, 81- 87, 192-194, 195, 248, 288. defined, 70. Social institutions of, 196. Standards of, 169. Status, 56. Stimulus, Stimuli, 39, 50, 69, 93, 103, 108, 201, 221-222, 239, 264, 266, 30S. Stocks, Degenerate, see Degen- erate. Stoicism, 294. Strata, The earth's, 30. Strenuous life, The, 194. Strong, Josiah, 356, 357. Structure, Social, 51, 80, 93. Struggle, for survival, The, 62, 105, 187, 299. See Survival, of classes, see Classes. Struggles, Racial, see Racial. "Submerged tenth," 232, 337. Subordination of the concrete sciences, 21, 23. Suggestibility, Social, 83-86, 141. Suggestion, Telic, 227-228. Suppression of propagation, see Propagation. Suicidal, Suicide, 175, 263, 303. Suicide, Race, see Race. Sumner, W. G., 90, 300. Summary of social reforms, 337- 339. "Sun, Nothing new under the," 86, 352. Superman, The, 50, 160, 267, 268, 294. Supernatural, The, 25, 44, 47, 168. Superstition, 142-143, 167, 269. Survey, The, 279, 328. (Chari- ties and the Commons.) Survival of the strong (fit), 50, 79, 86, 187, 206, 209, 282, 314, 359. See Natural Se- lection, Struggle for Sur- vival. Sympathy, 52, 54-56, 110, 164. Tabu, 147-149, 327, 33S. civilization, 150. Elimination of the, 281-282. in morals, see Morals. in sexuality, see Sexuality. of the savage, 48, 147. Talent, 235-240, 256. A career for, 177-183. Tariff, 227, 275. Taxation, 129, 229, 242, 278, 296. Teachers, 27, 83, 246, 265, 279. Religious, 114, 359. Telic, 195. contrasted with genetic, 67. The term defined, 67. 404 INDEX Telic, See in Index the particular word modified by this ad- jective. Telesis, Collective, SO. Temperance, Education a factor in, 330-331. Tenney, Edward P., 260. Tennyson, Alfred, quoted, 194. Test of civilization, 282. Theft, 155, 305. Theology, 138, 139, 146, 248, 310, 345, 358. Theories, of science, 24, 27. of social development, 51-57. Theory, Sociological, 38, 351. Thought, 20, 24, 36, 67, 245. See Reasoning. Tobacco, The use of, 327, 347. Toleration in morals, 160. Tolman, William EL, 284. Tolstoi, Leo, 50, 231. Tools, 42, 45, 64. of the mind, 65. Torture, 101, 148, 188. Trade, 103. secrets, 224-225. unions, 221, 226, 229-230, 241. Tradition, Traditions, 19, 25, 43, 72, 95, 143. Training of the mind, see Mind. Transcendental, 166. Transition, Age of, 152, 226, 306. Transportation, Systems of, 97, 99, 104-105. Trend, 20, 38, 39, 82, 119, 134, 153, 160, 161. Tropics, The, 99, 201, 219. Truth, 26, 37, 38, 65, 122, 169, 197, 239, 263. Unit of society, The, 47, 52. Ultimate causes, 20. United States Brewers' Associa- tion, 328. United States of America, The, 87, 102, 169, 177, 207, 222- 223, 227. Early conditions in, 274-275. Economic problems of, 277- 278. Problem of education in, 278- 279. Problem of immigration in, 209-211, 275-277. See America. Unions, Labor, see Trade Unions. Unity, of interests, 297. of knowledge, 22, 25, 28, 34, 38, 67, 250. Social, 6, 52, 94. Universe, The, 20, 24, 30, 32, 67. Universities, 71, 247, 254, 256, 344. See College, Curricu- lum. Unskilled labor, see Labor. Urban, 104, 107, 286. See City. Utilitarianism, 39. Utility, 27, 187. of group life, 46, 111. of knowledge, 245-249. of science to man, 23-24, 39. of sociology, 190-192. Utilization of natural material and forces, 32, 40, 45, 61, 64, 66, 105-106, 181. Utopia, Utopias, 19, 38, 48, 194, 352. INDEX 405 Utopian, 108, 181, 198, 313, 361. Utopians, Teachings of, 197-198, 285. Vae Victis, 50. Variation, 52, 54, SI, 94, 233, 259, 271. Veblen, T. B., 27, 177. Verification of knowledge, 35. See Positivity. Vice, Vices, 202, 204, 208, 241, 300. Sexual, see Sexual. Vicious, 83, 115, 316. See Per- verts. Vigor, Racial, 240-241, 251. Virgil, Quotations from, 5, 255. Virtue, Virtues, 83. Vocabularies, 5, 74, 75. Wallis, Louis, 177. Wanderlust, 47. Wants, Social, 92. War, Warfare, 43, 46, 49, 50, 53, 113, 201, 205. Elimination of, 134, 221, 253. See Band. Ward, Lester F., 7, 22. Psychological teachings, 78-80. quoted, 21, 58, 191-192. References to works of, 22, 23, 30, 65, 80, 87, 93, 113. Warner, Amos G., 304. Waste, 142, 171, 190, 256, 281. Elimination of, 137, 238, 242, 313. Weak, Elimination of the, see Elimination. Weaklings, 263, 316. Wealthy, The, 103, 133. Welfare, 19, 157, 327. Wells, H. G., 182. Western civilization, see Civiliza- tion. "Wild oats," 321. Wisdom, 150. Woman, 5, 112, 113, 325-326. Equality of, 116-117. Woman's, influence, 116, 323- 325. rights, 116, 323-324, 335. Writings, Sacred, 143. Zoology, 30. u I ^UIBRARYflc «3 ' University Research Library inn llll! . J MM Trfnfm HJiHifiliiifjiiil! fiiii .. .