ing serious efforts in adjustment thereto are, according to Groos, only those in which the somatic well-being of itself or its young is at stake—those relating to the obtaining of food and shelter; and in the human species clothing becomes a necessity. Most of an individual's activities in respect to these necessities will be performed in the spirit of work, while all he does over and above what is required for such adjustment will be play. The activities of courtship, for instance, are not compulsory, as are those which are involved in securing food; so they come under the head of games and plays. In human life all that one does in his intercourse with his fellows for the purpose of obtaining their approbation or good-will or admiration cannot be regarded as work, for he is perfectly free to change his course whenever he elects so to do. Approbation, good-will, admiration are not deep, vital needs like nutrition, and the individual does not feel that he must co-ordinate all his powers in attaining them. If he has time and energy left after attending to serious business, he may amuse himself with these other things; but it is optional with him to do or not to do.

Now, it appears to me that Groos does not attach sufficient importance to the serious character of social situations, in human life at any rate. He fails to allow enough for the necessity of one's adapting himself to the customs and institutions of the society in which he is placed, no matter how little he may thereby gratify any physiological need. It seems that the activities in courtship, for instance, spring out of a necessity quite as profound, whether regarded from the standpoint of the individual or of the race, as that relating to nutrition or to defense against enemies. Looking at this phenomenon as we see it in animal life, we find that the bird, for example, puts forth as much energy, perhaps, in winning its mate as it does in getting its food; it co-ordinates its powers toward the attainment of an end as fully in the one case as in the other. In both cases there is a need, the gratification of which yields pleasure, and in the attainment of which the powers are co-ordinated.

It seems probable that the young man goes awooing with something of the same seriousness with which he goes to his desk or his shop,

although the emotional tone of consciousness is not just the same in both instances in the performance of the immediate activities involved. If the young man could get food, clothing, and shelter ready to hand, he would put forth no effort to obtain them; as it is, he is driven by necessity to exert himself to get them; but he can be depended upon to go awooing without any other incentive than the pleasure of the thing itself.

Yet there is really not so much greater freedom in the latter than in the former case, as is illustrated in the instance where a youth is informed by the guardian of his fiancée that he must accumulate a competence before the wedding may take place. He gives himself now to hard labor, which is drudgery in itself, and which he would avoid if he could, just as he is willing to have his father or someone else provide him with food, clothing, and shelter. In neither case do the intermediate activities, the means, give pleasure; but it is the products of these activities that are desired. If certain activities bring valuable products directly, the activities themselves will be endowed with a certain amount of pleasure, and be undertaken in the spirit of play; but if one's efforts are rewarded only at some remote period, they do not partake of any of the pleasurable feeling connected with the rewards, and so they are prosecuted in the spirit of work. 'A hungry man will set out for his boarding place with as much of spontaneity and joy as he will go awooing, because food is right at the end of the journey; and so, if he could come into the presence of the one he loves without walking five miles of a night, or if he could gain her affections without going to great pains about his attire, it is certain he would give himself no unnecessary trouble. The point is that it is the reward alone in both cases that keeps the attaining activities going; but in desk work this reward usually seems so distant that there is little pleasure in the performance of the drudgery leading thereto; while in the matter of courtship the reward is gained, at least in part, upon the expenditure of comparatively little effort. If interest should be lost in the thing to be achieved, endeavor would cease in the one case as readily as in the other, showing that it is not the endeavor itself that gives the pleasure, but the end to be realized

by it. Again, one would abandon his search for food and shelter about as soon as he would give up his visits to his lady love. Men die for love, and they can do no more for things material. A man will sacrifice comfort at any time for love; he will economize in food and things to keep himself warm in order to purchase things that may make him acceptable in the eyes of one he loves.

Looking now at certain other activities concerned with social adaptation, we find that the author classes them all under play, because they do not minister to any vital need of the organism. Social adjustment in most of its phases is to Groos never as serious and mandatory as physical adjustment; all effort to appear beautiful in the eyes of one's fellows, for example, is looked upon as excessive and playful. Take the matter of dress; we see that much energy is expended by the majority of people in making clothing ornamental, and the author thinks this is all done in the play spirit. A woman puts a good deal more time into the making of her hat than is required to render it serviceable for protection. A very simple headgear would serve this latter purpose rather better than the elaborate affairs now commonly worn, and much of the effort expended on hats is spontaneous, and this gives it the aspect of play. Now, it seems doubtful whether in human society as it is a woman regards the earning of her daily bread as any more serious or requiring greater concentration of powers than the securing of appropriate attire-appropriate in the sense that it must conform to the æsthetic ideals of the community in which she is placed. It is highly probable that it is of greater consequence to have a dress æsthetic than to have it warm or hygienic; it would be easier to put up with cold than with ugly clothing. Who will say that a woman preparing for a ball does not work over her gown in as true a sense as does the woman whose only motive in making a wardrobe is to protect herself from the elements or to earn money? The one woman is not less serious and constrained than the other; the social demand is just as urgent, it seems, as the physical demand, and the individual knows that if he does not heed it he will suffer pains and penalties much as if he had run athwart some natural law. The point is that in civilized human society the necessity for growing into harmony with the social environment in the matter of dress, as an instance, is about as pressing as the necessity of growing into harmony with the physical environment in the matter of food. Of course, there are those who can ignore their social environment in this regard and apparently be happy, but so are there those who can deny themselves food and offset the pains of hunger with the pleasure of being masters of the situation. The two cases are much alike; the man who does not conform to social requirements in matters æsthetic offsets the pain of isolation and criticism by the consciousness that he is doing his duty, or that he is preserving his independence; or in some way he finds compensation for the unhappiness he brings upon himself. Look now at the person who "puts on airs in

any community; he will give more attention to his dress than anyone else about him, and it may be said that he is doing this in the play rather than in the work spirit. But here again he is seeking to attain a certain definite end toward which he co-ordinates all his powers in a serious manner. He is striving to gratify an instinct about as profound as that concerned with the getting of food. The states of consciousness accompanying the choosing of a dress and working in an office are not so different in respect of the feeling of freedom and the pleasure accompanying the activities. There is an underlying feeling of necessity in both cases; the one seems to be as binding as the other.

Groos seeks to put all the activities that relate to æsthetic production into the category of play. He sees that men put

. more time upon almost everything they construct than is required to make it useful. For instance, a chandelier is always ornamented in some fashion, when a rod of plain iron would have served as well to hold the lights. All this extra activity, according to Groos, would come under the head of play, because it is not absolutely required; individuals do these things because they find pleasure in the activities themselves. But this is certainly overstating the case. The author has ignored a certain very real and vital need which is gratified by artistic creation. Psychologists say that some kinds of forms are more pleasurable than others, and those that are the most pleasurable exert the best influence upon the organism. Beautiful things elevate the tone of one's whole life, while ugliness depresses it. Then it becomes a need, hardly less urgent than that of getting food, to surround one's self with forms which will exalt life to the highest possible point. It is not optional with the individual to choose between the beautiful and the ugly; his choice will not be indifferent in its effects upon him; what he does will at once determine his well-being, and he chooses, of course, so as to obtain the greatest amount of pleasure. And the man who creates the beautiful things does so to gratify this need which all feel. He is not playing, nor is the patron who buys his work playing.

View it as one may, he sees that the relationships of human beings in civilized society are not the same in all respects as those of the animal living in the forest, and one will surely go astray if he seeks to make the principle of action of animal life explain all that is found in human life. The evolution of a social organism such as ours today has developed in the individual social needs hardly less urgent than his physical ones, and all the activities having for their aim the gratification of these social needs should be regarded as of a serious, workful character, though they may be performed in a spontaneous and joyous manner. The refining of the human organism so that it becomes more and more responsive to influences on the æsthetic side again gives rise to needs which the individual seeks to gratify by co-ordinating his powers in a serious way. And it seems highly probable that with the evolutions of the race social and ästhetic demands will be even greater relatively than they are now, and the organic demands of the average individual will occupy a less and less prominent place in his daily life. The feeling of compulsion in providing for these social needs is not precisely of a kind with that relating to the gratification of organic needs, but it is none the less real and insistent. Indeed, it is not unreasonable to say that the fulfilling of obligations in modern society involves greater strain and stress than attending to one's physical

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