the indirect consequences of such conflicts. Taking charitable acts as the generic type of the whole supererogatory class, it is obvious that they presuppose the prior existence in society of serious obstructions to the normal course of action. They exist only because there is a class in society who are in some way more or less deprived of the means of subsistence. How came such a class to exist? Clearly through some form of interference with their normal actions. There is an abundance of food. The benevolent class possess a large enough surplus to sustain the indigent class, and they are but a handful compared with the non-benevolent class who possess a surplus. Those who have nothing, were they free to act, would proceed to supply themselves with the surplus. Something prevents them from doing so. It is not to the purpose to inquire here what the nature of these barriers is, it is only necessary to point out that they exist. But this is only to say that action has been interfered with, arrested, clogged, choked, and hence objects of charity exist in society. An act of charity is, therefore, from our present standpoint, simply a mode, usually only a temporary one, of relieving pressure upon this class, of clearing away the obstructions to life, in a word, of overcoming the social friction.

The above is independent of the ethical nature of this kind of social friction and also of that of charitable action in general. It is fashionable now-a-days to animadvert upon all charitable work from the supposed fundamental and scientific standpoint that it interferes with the law of the survival of the fittest in society. The argument proceeds from a superficial analogy between animal life and human life, and is neither scientific nor sound. But this much is true and is the basis of the popular error, namely that under the law of parsimony, i. e., that an individual will always seek the greatest gain for the least effort, it is easy to create a pauper class by injudicious charity This class then becomes in society the strict homologue of the degenerate parasite so well known in almost every department of biology.

There is, however, a really fundamental and scientific objection to charity, but this I have never seen stated. It is that charity is really the giving by the benevolent class, not to the indigent class, but to the non-benevolent class. To illustrate this let us take the case of waiters' "tips" and porters' fees. All who have ever given the subject a moment's thought know that to tip a waiter or fee a porter is simply to give so much money to a hotel keeper or a railroad company. Its effect is to encourage these to continue to keep down the wages of these employés to the point of dependence upon the public, and the more generous the public the lower will be the wages. If all would resolve to cease tipping and feeing altogether, these employés would be paid regular wages like other employés. Charity and alms-giving do not differ in principle from this giving of tips and fees. It is true that in the latter case it is definitely known from whom the money should be taken as an act of justice, while in the former case the ones who should pay it are a large ill-defined class. But there is no doubt that the ones who have the wealth of the world have included in it the share of those who have none. The only escape from this conclusion is to say, as many are ready to do, that those who have nothing have no right to exist in society. If the indigent class were coextensive and identical with the criminal class there would be some ground for this position. But those who assume it generally argue that the poor are more moral than the rich, and it is probably true that the percentage of criminals from the wealthy classes is greater than that from the indigent classes. The only argument remaining is that poverty is due to idleness and profligacy. Yet if the percentage of idle and profligate rich could be compared with that of the idle and profligate poor, it would make a far worse showing for the former than that of the comparative criminality of these two classes. The conclusion therefore remains unassailable that the means of subsistence is justly due to the indigent class from the opulent class, and no amount of patchwork on the

part of a few benevolent persons can ever balance this great account with society. Its effect is to increase the surplus of the non-benevolent in the sums contributed by the benevolent.

The several considerations above brought forward are merely samples of the short-sighted and superficial character of nearly everything that is said or done with relation to ethics. This is because in the nature of things there cannot be any logical and fundamental treatment of that subject. The moment logic and scientific principles are applied the problem ceases to be an ethical one and becomes a sociological one. The ethical and sociological standpoints are the opposites of each other. The former looks to the curbing, the latter to the freeing of social energy Any philosophy that has for its object the hemming and cribbing of a great natural force can have no permanence. As well try to dam the waters of a river and hope for final success.

This thought introduces the fundamental truth with which this treatment of social friction must conclude. It is that the whole subject of ethics is essentially provisional and the stage to which it belongs is a merely transitional stage. There are those who by devoting their whole lives to doing good conceive of the life of future blessedness as one in which there shall be no other occupation but that of doing good. They forget that they have been taught that in that life there will be no one to need their ministrations. Could they realize such a state it would appear a wretched one. The only thing they enjoy they would be deprived of. I have known saintly beings of this class who seemed so to long for an opportunity to do good, that they could not conceal a secret joy at the occurrence of an unfortunate accident which promised to furnish such an opportunity. Were all suffering abolished the occupation of such persons would be gone. And yet Mr. Spencer and other ethical writers do but reflèct a wide-spread popular sentiment in regarding ethical conduct as the climax of human achievement and ethics as the goal of philosophy.

The idea that there must always be a field for ethical action is only a part of the more general idea that all things must always be what they now are. And both of these ideas prevail in the face of the fact that the most radical changes have actually many times taken place within the narrow limits of human history. "The poor always ye have with you" is supposed to express a necessary social truth. It is doubtless as true now as it was two thousand years ago, but that is far from giving warrant for saying that it will continue to be true two thousand years hence.

There are many who think that it will have ceased to be true two hundred years hence. But if it shall thus cease it will not be ethical teaching but improved social organization that will have produced the change. And so one might take up one by one all the social facts that make ethical conduct possible, and theoretically conceive of their elimination. It will, of course, be said that such an idea is visionary and utopian. Grant this and it still remains true that if any of the existing evils can be removed the domain of ethics is to that extent circumscribed. Deny that this is possible and the utility of all ethical work is given over. Admit that it is possible and there is no place to stop short of a reclamation of the whole field.

But is this claim wholly utopian? Has there been no moral progress? If not why continue to inculcate moral principles? As a matter of fact there has been great moral progress Let any one read the history of England, even the meager account of its kings and their exploits which is called history, and compare the acts of the men of the 12th to the 16th centuries with those of the men occupying relatively the same national and social positions to-day, and see whether there has been any moral progress. Not even in Russia which we call despotic is there anything to compare with the immorality that openly stalked abroad three hundred years ago over all Europe. The subject need not be enlarged upon. The other point to be noted is that none of this real moral progress has been due to

the enforcement and inculcation of moral precepts. It has been wholly due to the march of events, such as the growth of scientific ideas, the spread of letters, the influence of commerce, the establishment of universities, the invention of printing, and the introduction of machinery and manufactures; in general to the progress of intelligence, laying bare the enormity of the abuses formerly practised and creating a new code of morals which society literally enforces. Men could not be as cruel and immoral as they once were if they would. The power of public sentiment crushes every display of it. In other words as already stated, the modern improved morality is a condition to the modern improved state of civilization and the latter is the cause of the former, not the reverse as ethical expounders teach.

The effect of social friction is always painful, therefore moral progress, which consists in reducing this friction, is restricted in its popular acceptation to the lessening of pain i.e., to the mitigation of suffering, the decrease of misery, and the removal of unhappiness in general. In short it is negative in its character, and such it really is in the main. But there may be a positive moral progress consisting in the increase of pleasure, the heightening of enjoyment, and the broadening and deepening of human happiness. Just as social friction is painful so social action is pleasurable. All desire is for the exercise of some function, and the objects of desire are such only by virtue of making such exercise possible. Happiness therefore can only be increased by increasing either the number or the intensity of satisfiable desires. It has in fact been greatly increased in both these ways. Without elaborating this principle I will simply point to the very modern date of two of the highest sources of man's present enjoyment in civilized countries, the enjoyment of music and the enjoyment of what may be called beauty in the amorphous in the landscape, the cloud, the sea, the rocks, and the mountains. No faculty for appreciating either of these sources of delight seemed to exist in what we