ceive like wages. Race-suicide tends to prevent the depression of the standard of living for the grades of workers who have differentiated themselves from the great mass of the unskilled. The skilled man with a large family must expect to see his children, or the majority of them, forced down in the scale because he cannot give them proper training.

With the progress of medical science, curative and particularly preventive, with increasing vigor of the race and longer average span of life, the economic demand and the social need of large families ought normally to decrease. This is the lesson which nature teaches. The higher and stronger animals are given fewer offspring than those lower in the scale of animal life. Statistics is also the bearer of good tidings to the inquirer; statistics indicates that the rate of increase in the population decreases as the race or class moves toward a higher plane of mental and physical development. Thus, nature labors to prevent overpopulation. Nevertheless, independent of the physical effects of culture, luxury, and the manner of living of the mental worker, and the business and professional man, small families are logically to be expected among many classes of the community. As has been shown, a slight analysis of the situation will place this fact clearly before us. Large families, in a fairly well-populated Occidental country, are the rule only among the poorly-paid classes of the community, among the classes from whom increase is not particularly desirable. Exhortations against race-suicide, if they produce any appreciable effect, act almost entirely upon the very class which does not class which does not need, from any point-of-view, such admonitions. If the theory is accepted, as undoubtedly it must be in the light of modern investigation, that the child is chiefly molded by his home, school, and street environment and influences, then the task before society is the betterment of those conditions through educational and municipal improvements.

The wide separation of classes means distrust and lack of sympathy between the members of different groups, and consequently leads easily to the exploitation of the weaker groups. In a democracy, which is enduring, organization of the conflicting interests is imperative, in order that one may effectively check the excesses of the other. A democracy becomes an unstable balance of conflicting interests if class differentiation becomes too wide. The danger of aggression by other nations or races and the fear of economic exploitation by other nations must be weighed against the claims of democracy and humanity which ask for greater equality in well-being, which ask for a closer approximation of income' to services; and this danger must also be weighed against the possibilities of exploitation of certain classes by others within our own borders. The true problem is not the rapid increase in the numbers of the so-called middle class, but rather to inaugurate such improvements in the economic and mental conditions of the laboring class as will lower its rate of increase and improve its efficiency. The hope of society lies ultimately in restriction of the numbers of the unskilled. Scientific and industrial education for the masses, and a considerable increase in the numbers of parks, playgrounds, reading-rooms, gymnasiums, baths, concerts, lectures, and other collective enjoyment, are among the most potent instruments which must be utilized to raise the level of the unskilled. Race-suicide in this country is a class, not a national, phenomenon; herein lies the danger.

From the point-of-view of the nation, the demand for large population may be ascribed to two influences: First, to the necessities of the past, such as the need of more people to develop land and industry under modern industrial conditions; and, secondly, international jealousy and fear,-the real danger of the dominance of the many over the best. In the days of tribal warfare, or in the later days of fierce and protracted strug

gles for supremacy between the various nations and peoples, the life of a nation or of a people depended, in no small measure, upon the rapid increase of population. Supremacy or escape from subjection depended upon this increase. In those troublesome times stern necessity, not ethics, formulated the demand for large families. Modern imperialism is but a rebirth of, or a reversion to, the old conquering and subduing instinct of the races. With the growth of a feeling of international comity and of rational views as to the progress of humanity, this demand or outcry for larger and larger populations should, under any rational interpretation of the goal of progress, become less insistent. The recent wave of imperialism which is sweeping over the nations of the Western hemisphere, however, menaces international peace, and unfortunately introduces new reasons, in the sacred name of patriotism, for an insistence upon the demands for large families. Imperialistic rulers and those hungry for territorial expansion have ever urged the propriety of large families. President Roosevelt is only following in the footsteps of a long line of preceding rulers.

Side by side with this wave of imperialism is seen another, brighter, more cheerful, and more hopeful movement,-democracy. Where the spirit of democracy and of brotherhood has permeated the people of a nation, we can no longer anticipate that the common people who are the food of the Dogs of War, will consent to be led to slaughter each other in the name of patriotism or of religion. It is true that in the past democracies have often been ready and eager to enter upon a war; but with the improvement in education and with the growth of broader conceptions of humanity and brotherhood, the spirit of democracy will become more gentle and less hostile toward other nations and peoples. Imperialism and democracy are antagonistic conceptions. Imperialism calls for large populations which are at the disposal of

the government for military purposes; a democracy, on the other hand, demands citizens who will serve her in peace. The hero of a true democracy earns his title through living for the benefit of his country and the betterment of humanity. The hero of a democracy is the worker; that of a truly imperialistic power is the fighter.

To a nation that is not troubled with imperialistic dreams and that has little fear of aggression by other nations, the phantom of race-suicide ought to excite little fear. Quality in population rather than quantity of population is needed; and too much quantity leads to deterioration under modern social and industrial conditions. Exceptions to this generalization there may be; but in the long run the rule is a true one. The happiness of the individual, or the greatness of a nation is by no means entirely a product which increases directly with the numbers composing that nation.

The call for large population is also justified by the conceited belief of each people that they are the chosen people, that their civilization should be impressed upon all nations, and further that it is that particular nation's duty and mission to spread the blessings, and evils as well, to all the heathen and the benighted. We are only beginning to faintly and halfheartedly recognize that each people, each period of history, and each geographical division have their own peculiar and valuable contribution to make toward the progress and upbuilding of society. Imperialism and brute repression lead toward destruction, toward uniformity, and towards a flat, insipid, unprogressive world civilization. Instead of two or three giant civilizations armed to the teeth, let us hope and work for many civilizations bearing the olive branch of peace and tolerance. Each nation, like each individual, has its own peculiar influence and mission. The Occident needs to learn from the Orient the lesson of peace, non-aggression, and the value of tolerance. The West may teach the East science and sympathy for

the suffering; the West may reveal to the East the spirit of democracy and the rights of the individual.

Since 1898, the world has been moving rapidly. The old liberal programmes have been forgotten in the crush of worldwide events. Europe and America now look anxiously toward the Far East. There is the new center of world politics. Is the meeting of the Orient and the Occident to be peaceful, or is it to be followed by a war of civilizations, a test of brute strength and of mere numbers? Is the prevention of race-suicide the hope of the West? If awakening China and awakened Japan become endued with the spirit of Europe and America, if their common people consent to be hurled against the West in the spirit of conquest, in the desire to snuff out the lamp of Western civilization and to trail the standard of Christianity in the dust, then indeed this question does attain the dignity of a world-wide problem, although it must be remembered that strength lies not solely in numbers. While the Asiatic hordes may easily cast the men of the West out of Asia, a successful invasion of Europe by Asiatics is probably impossible. But, it must not be forgotten that the religion of the Oriental, Mohammedanism excepted, his manner of living and his ideals lead to peace and industry instead of to war and aggression. The vast numbers living in the Chinese Empire are to be attributed to the low standard of living and culture of the mass of the inhabitants, and to certain religious beliefs and customs. Captain Brinkley mentions the following incentives to increase of population in China: A religious belief in the necessity for the continuation of the family; an ethical obligation to continue the family; a social stigma which attaches to an unwedded marriageable girl; and a law which requires that husbands shall be furnished females sold into service. Such beliefs introduce factors into the problem which are unknown in the Western countries. The gradual introduction of Western

methods of industry, means of transportation, science and sanitary measures will slowly raise the average standard of efficiency and of living; and as a result it may be anticipated that the birth-rate will be reduced. Japan, and, in a lesser degree, China are now accepting Western industrial and commercial commercial methods. Such action must inevitably react upon the conditions surrounding the people. At first it will probably lead, as it did in the West, to the exploitation of the poorer classes by the employers; but increase in production, and improvement and modification of their educational system must, if we may judge by our own experience, inevitably lead to the growth of a spirit of democracy and to greater consideration for the welfare of the masses, because they will have increased their strength and unity.

International jealousies, engendered by the desire for commercial aggrandizement-profits-are then at the root of this demand for an increased birth-rate. Each nation demands men to watch the men of other nations and of their own country as well. Think of the thousands and millions of human beings whose lives are frittered away in the empty task of attempting to prevent various kinds of real and fanciful aggression,-soldiers, policemen, lawyers, judges, sheriffs, and so on through a long list! Is the United States to enter upon the fixed policy of rapidly adding to her quota in this list?

The hope of the world is in increasing true culture,-education in its broadest sense-not in wars of aggression or in brutal assimilation of races. Even in autocratic Russia the spirit of democracy is raising its head; and with the fall of autocracy will come better education for the masses, and the conclusion of her vast imperialistic schemes. In our own United States, not race-suicide but the reverse is to be feared. Large families and the consequent low standards of living are the curse of our great cities, and the fruitful cause of misery, crime,

and degradation. Our schools cannot keep pace with the needs of our increasing population. Improper school facilities and bad home environment are annually condemning thousands of innocent young children to lives of inefficiency or criminality. Until those near the poverty line can be brought to abstain from propagating unreasonably large numbers of offspring, betterment of these people as a class is hopeless. Teachers rather than soldiers are needed; and money for education rather than for imperialistic measures is to be desired.

Demands for large families are then the result of one or more of three influences: separation of the people into classes with the resultant class prejudice and desire for class exploitation; the desire for national aggrandizement or the fear of aggression by other nations; and imperialistic schemes and wild dreams of converting the hordes of Asia into tribute-payers.

America as the exponent of democracy and as a representative of Western ideals cannot afford to take cognizance of any one of these three aims. America does not wish class division; the very stability and permanence of a democratic government is endangered by forces which lead toward class differentiation and the caste system. This country has no neighbors whom she fears or with whom she wishes to play the part of an aggressor. It is to be hoped that no attempt will be made to maintain permanent control by force of arms over any inferior race. The world needs to-day those forces which make for higher intellectual grade of life. Not a leveling down is desired, but a leveling up through universal training and through the increase of collective enjoyment of good. Not a large population living upon the limit of subsistence whose

individual span of life is short, but a smaller population enjoying greater comfort and greater longevity of life, is the rational hope of the world, from the standpoint of Western civilization. As J. S. Mill has well said, it is not a pleasant and cheerful prospect, if, in the future, the land must all be parceled out and intensively cultivated. Commonplace, indeed, will be the lot of man if all beauty spots must give place to hives of industrial activity, if the now solitary places of the earth are all to be densely populated. Instead of looking toward increasing the birth-rate among all classes, it is more to the point to look toward decreasing the rate of increase among the poorer classes of the people.

The world is near another fork in the path of development. We may be on the threshold of a new civilization. The ends of the earth have been searched and parceled out; expansion of population will soon tend to be a menace rather than a blessing. The surplus energy of the nation may be turned from aggression and expansion to the more peaceful and desirable triumphs of science, art and education. Or we may be on the threshold of a new "Dark Age" in which brute strength and imperialistic tendencies will roam at will among the ruins of our present civilization. The result hinges on the decision of the contest now being waged between imperialism and democracy, between the forces of reaction and those of progress toward greater solidarity among the races and peoples of the earth. And the problem is complicated and made difficult by the low standards of living, judged by the criterions of the West, of the people living in the Orient.

FRANK T. CARLTON. Albion College, Albion, Mich.

E

STHETIC socialism is a new thing for the modern world. When its spirit shall have attained maturity there will be a Twentieth-Century Hellenism. By esthetic socialism is meant that theory of the relationship of the souls of men that bears scrutiny on their tastes and joys rather than on their rights and obligations.

The ethical socialism of Kingsley and Maurice was an outgrowth of the sick discontent of Chartism. These men went into socialism with heart and soul in the hope to ameliorate the condition of the workingman. They attempted to apply the principles of the Christian religion to the solving of the serious problems of modern industry. Essentially their scheme left industry as it is. It propounded no formula for the reorganization of society and strove to effect its ends through the arousing of the latent consciousness of right in the heart of every individual. Kingsley in Alton Locke and Carlyle in Chartism, while admitting the workingman's condition to be unhappy, tacitly feel secure in the opinion that the only safety of government is mass under class. The theory of the "benevolent whip-handler" was still dominant in socialism.

When Chartism got its death-blow in 1848 William Morris was but a boy. The social ferment of the surrounding years affected the young aristocrat little. As a thoughtless child he accepted the privileges of wealth without question. If he had thought at all on the matter he had considered his a divine right to enjoy blessings which were closed to his brothers. There may be two kinds of rights: the right to have and the right to enjoy. These rights are not identical and the possession of the one does not presuppose

the possession of the other. And it was through a pathway of art that Morris came to Socialism rather than through the pathway of industry.

The right to have is the world-old basis of equity. The industrial age is so old and the world has held property to be the basis of all earthly blessing so long that our social thinkers have accepted material wealth without questioning. Economics, which was the first, is still the fundamental social science. From it as the science of wealth the sciences of politics and sociology have sprung. Government is held to exist for the protection of property rights. Even socialism as commonly understood deems that the imperfections of man's common life are imperfections in the distribution of wealth, and that when an equitable system of share-and-share-alike has been put into operation the children of man will live in eternal peace.

The conception of the human right to enjoy is a newer one. To grasp it there is necessary the possession of a newest of intellectual muscles, an intelligence unassociated with the conventional formulæ of political thinkers. When the artists began to think of rights they thought in terms other than those of possession. This is partly because there is a difference between a doctrine and a taste. A thinker may isolate his intellectual life even from himself. He does not find himself under the necessity of guiding the forces of his character by the outlines of his philosophy. But the artist does not express himself in doctrines. He expresses himself in appreciations; principles to him are generalizations of himself. It did not detract from the cogency of Lasalle's system of thought that his personality was unlike that system. But the