together with other wills as they were in the old herd morality. This is the assured result of individualism. And yet our present type of individualism can only lead to more chaos.

The solution of this difficulty is the cultivation of a new type of individual. The individual cannot abdicate his own will but he can train himself to will objects and ends which can be shared by others. The individual must have a property reward for his workmanship, but it should be determined by the extent to which he contributes to the achievement of a world in which others can share. The moral self must organize its property interests, its vocational pursuits, in such a way as to fulfill the lives of others as well as its own. The present form of individualistic ethics is leading the business world into a form of interminable war. Romantic, altruistic solutions of the ethics of property are powerless; no one can escape his own ego. But one can so organize his own interests as to make them shareable by other individuals. The will to work must learn to find itself not in a process of acquiring property by outwitting others, but in organizing vocational ends, in pursuing creative interests, which can be shared by others working in the same spirit. It is in the enlargement of the individual that his salvation in economic as in other fields of experience is to be achieved.

The Greeks and the Romans associated workmanship with slavery; and those who hold to the classical view are offended at the central place which industry holds in the life of today. They say that Vulcan is driving Apollo from his throne. It is certainly true

that the old gods are coming back into our pantheon. Prominent in our pantheon are Indra, the god of electricity; the Bull-worship of Iowa; the worship of Ceres in Kansas; of Pluto, the god of waterpower. We even offer up our first-born in child labor to these gods. Our feast-days in which we worship these gods fill the greater part of our calendar. That these gods are back in the temples of today is evidence that we no longer believe that our minds must be disassociated from our will to work and to produce. This is a sign of health. The will disassociated from the interests of workmanship and possession is a thwarted will, a diseased will. It is a moral torso. These modern gods of fire and steam, of electricity, of oil, of coal, of water power, of gold, of copper and other metals, of food and grain, are the offspring of the control of nature by science.

It was the disassociation of the material interests of life from the moral will which drove them from the temples of religion and morality. The moral organization of all material interests will bring them back again into the temple of morality and religion where they were in the ancient moral régime.

There must be an extension, a retraining of the will, to incorporate the newer, richer objective world given us by modern science. There must be a frank disavowal of a will or conscience which can exist in an inner world detached from a will to work and to create. A good will implies economic creation. Once this is seen, the wall between conscience and material goods vanishes as a dream. An adequate moral will must issue in productive, creative activity.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE SYNTHESIS OF INDIVIDUALITY AND SOLIDARITY

The social patterns of experience are so variable and have undergone such a change that it is no wonder that our intellectualistic and individualistic modes of thought have regarded them as the product of purely individual thinking. It is easy to see the social patterns that run through the pack, the horde, the clan and tribe, the ancient city-states; but in the ever-widening circles of modern life, these traditional forms of social behavior have been quite blotted out of our thought.

The development of knowledge in the modern world turned the burning focus of introspection on the sources of conduct. And a strange transformation took place. Introspection knew nothing of the older social patterns of conduct. A custom or a habit, when it gets filtered through the processes of introspection, becomes a series of observed phenomena with the "go," the drive, left out. In this way the drive of habit and custom and the consciousness of solidarity lose their significance for a theory of conduct. In the modern world this basic social trend to live in groups which makes possible the world of society is so covered over by the later and higher and more conscious processes of the human mind that many individuals seem unaware of its existence.

Such intensity of gregarious behavior as a herd of cattle exhibits in a stampede or in a concerted attack on an enemy is rare in human behavior. It occurs at fires, at religious revivals; it is seen in lynchings, in strikes; and it is in evidence in war-psychoses. Ordinarily gregarious behavior is under severe intellectual restraint, but the unthinking intensity of gregariousness which occasionally dashes all the intellectual restraints of civilization to the winds shows the energy and power which lie dormant in these social forms of human behavior. The emphasis on reflection, which culminated in the eighteenth century, has blinded us to the depth and sweep of group behavior. The urge, the thrusting forth of the will, the surge of the tides of emotion and interest in group behavior give movement and life to the mind. Without the underlying consciousness of solidarity the most illuminating analysis of the intellect can produce only negations in the field of social behavior. In the modern mind there is a practically universal tendency to associate the desires and interests and ideal strivings of life with a consciousness of one's own ego. And the conflict between this modern ego-complex and the older trends of custom and tradition is a most significant phenomenon. The energies which group behavior set free in the World War were never dreamed of by the older introspectionist and rationalistic psychologists. The adjustment of the rational ego, of the modern egocomplex, to the wider social patterns of experience is one of the outstanding social problems of the present time. Our intellectualistic psychology has seen only the volitional, the rational, the self-conscious aspects

of the mind. It has transformed society into a collection of disconnected individuals. And the individualism which has resulted is just as much in need of an atonement of the social sort as were the earlier centuries in need of an atonement of the theological

sort.

We have been taught to view the strife between individuals as rooted in psychological and ethical fact. On the other hand, a form of behavior which brings unity into this world of conflicting selves is supposed to be a matter of individual sentiment or of religious enthusiasm. The social phases of experience are regarded as the expressions of some unaccountable sentiment. This limits the ethics of economics to the sphere of individual competition and politics to the function of a disinterested umpire and regards the consciousness of solidarity in all its phases as belonging to the realm of chance sentiment. It is this lack of a scientific basis of social interests which has helped to make ethics and politics so unreal. The individualistic tradition has taught us that egoism rests upon ineradicable instinct and we have been led to infer that social objectives are essentially evanescent and unstable. Such an antithesis makes impossible a science of social conduct.

Nothing is more characteristic of our age than the loss of social perspective which so many individuals have suffered. An intellectualistic psychology has tended to narrow down our experience to a nucleus of self-conscious volition and reason. The contract theory is just one phase of this psychology as applied to social institutions. Family, community, municipal, national, and international aspects of life have been