connection the two essays of Stevenson furnish an excellent view of the typical relations between fathers and sons. From another point of view, however, the doctrines of Colonel Theodore Roosevelt and Robert Louis Stevenson make a distinct contrast. One represents strenuous, pragmatic, commercial America; the other the criticism which an artistic idealism makes of all temporary effort in a material age. It is a contrast especially illuminating in this era of the great European war, when the principles of our vaunted Christian civilization are undergoing the criticism of brute nature, and when we Americans, congratulating ourselves on our democracy, our representative government, and our present geographic independence, are beginning somewhat anxiously to forecast the future. For there already looms ahead the question of whether any nation, which, in this practical and commercial era, believes strongly in its practical and commercial ambitions, must not soon arm itself to the teeth for their maintenance. It is the question of whether, in the evolution of this planet, commercialism will not mean just that, so long as it is backed by the national will. There is national militant Christianity for a curious parallel. But is this sort of national will the real will of the people? Is it not merely a governmental will? That during the leisure and idealism of college days the good and evil of such matters should be seriously contemplated is of the utmost importance. And here, the article on "Thinking for Yourself" makes an interesting comment by defining the practical relation of thought and action, the two general attributes of the all-round man. It is a comment on the theories of life set forth in Colonel Roosevelt's address and in Stevenson's two essays. It might be valuably applied to the lives of the two writers.

XXI. "The Discovery of the Future," by Mr. Wells, is the statement of a scientist and a novelist who has described the incongruities, the muddle, of our modern commercial prosperity. Realizing the muddle, the modern world is all for organization. "Organize and we shall be saved" is the watchword of all commercial undertakings; and anything, if thoroughly organized, satisfies the modern moral sense. Do we not all, for example, wherever our neutral hearts may be in the present conflict, take a great satisfaction in the supreme organization of the German people for it is the nation that is organized, not just the army? The virtue of organization we call morale. By the morale of a people, we say, their state of civilization may be judged. And more rarely do we ask the question, in the light of what ultimate moral principle is this morale perfected? Now we ask the question rarely only because we are in the habit of believing ourselves to be blind to the future. If we understood some way of discovering the future, would not that question certainly be the criterion of value in regard to any enterprise? Would not organization of business, that is, be for ultimate moral ends and less for immediate or, let us say, national ends? This philosophy cannot be too much emphasized. We have neglected it for a blind materialism, for a stupid fatalism, which are much the same thing. Eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die, is the business man's motto. And this is because his to-morrow is never far enough in the future. He has left idealistic thinking to men whom he speaks of condescendingly as mere dreamers. He is not sufficiently aware that in collective dreaming lies the greatest safeguard of civilization. By what present indications, in what modes of thought, the discovery of the future is being attempted, is the subject of Mr. Wells's discourse.

XXII. The rare kind of thinking or social forecasting which Mr. Wells predicts must soon hold sway, if we are to progress beyond the limits of our present national form of civilization, is concretely described in the fantasy that now follows, entitled "The Great Analysis." The little book from which it is taken is perhaps the best definition in recent years of that constructive imagination which long ago produced the philosophy of Aristotle. It describes the kind of imaginative wisdom that from now on, even in the face of further war, must begin to guide the human will to think of a peaceful world-order. Among the various types of free creative imagination in our era, far-reaching non-partisan statesmanship is the rare type which must ultimately predominate and direct. It is presupposed by the enormous progress of certain other great types of imagination, like the commercial, the mechanical, or the medical, which surely cannot be ends simply to themselves. It is presupposed by the very complexity of the world-order which they create and then fail to safeguard. It is the all-inclusive type to which every other is contributory. When the non-partisan statesmen, historians, sociologists, of the future begin in earnest to make the Great Analysis, the relation of all types and their importance will be more clearly seen; but already we understand how commercial and mechanical and medical imagination each make progress in the other more rapid and more important, how they combine for mutual benefit and for the benefit of humanity.

It is the problem of a world-order which we have so far failed to see with any comprehensive view. Imagination is not yet in this respect freely constructive. The experiments of government are so slow, and it dares make so few of them. The present forms of government are but

two, the autocratic and the representative, and neither one appears to be successful in combining different races under its rule. The Great Analysis has for its political aim, as Professor Gilbert Murray says in the preface, “to find out by organized knowledge what is good for society as a whole, not to snatch by strategy what is good for a particular group."

Non-partisan statesmanship is the greatest need of our country; for, in the light of the present conflagration, it can be seen to be the greatest need of the world. But have we had, as a matter of fact, much statesmanship of any kind, except in emergency? Have we had, as a government, steady, constructive statesmanship? We are an intelligent people most advantageously situated, and we have been able to get on without a great deal of statesmanship. But have we not reached a stage when our problems obviously require the finest intelligence of the country to save us from constant distress? Why is it, then, that in spite of all that our last three Presidents have done and are doing to make political service popular with the finer men of America, it does not usually attract the most cultivated and brilliant of them? Is this a serious indictment of our politics or of our intellectual men? Do they perceive their obvious duty? Do they think about it deeply and in large terms? Are Americans deeply patriotic? Trained theoretically in college for just such impersonal problems as federal government faces, do they not seem to prefer almost any form of money-getting in business, when once successful there, to this most intellectual and humane of callings, this most active and exciting of enterprises?

XXIII. An appeal to college men on this subject concludes our discussion. It is called "The Unity of Human

Nature." Our discussion has led from the conditions and purposes immediately about us in college to the conditions of the vast world of which, if we are preparing for it, we should have some comprehension at the start. "The trouble with the world is its vastness." "If one could stand on the edge of the moon and look down through a couple of thousand years on human politics, it would be apparent that everything that happened on the earth was directly dependent on everything else that happened there." These sentences, one of which stands at the beginning of "The Great Analysis" and the other at the beginning of Mr. Chapman's address to the students of Hobart College on "The Unity of Human Nature," make practically the same assertion. If the problem is vast and complex and in need of vast and complex minds for its simplification, the hope that such minds are in the making lies in this interdependency of all things. In the very cause of what seems at times the hopeless confusion of the world lies the means of its constant betterment, through education. The fact of the unity of human nature implies for all thinking men a consciousness of their social obligations, and is the ultimate reason for self-improvement and for believing in the doctrine of individualism. "The Czar of Russia cannot get rid of your influence, nor you of his. Every ukase he signs makes allowance for you, and, on the other hand, the whole philosophy of your life is tinged by him. You believe that the abuses under the Russian Government are inscrutably different from and worse than our own; whereas both sets of atrocities are identical in principle, and are more alike in fact, in taste and smell and substance, than your prejudice is willing to admit. The existence of Russia narrows America's philosophy, and misconduct by a European power may be