of kind or in the psychological process of imitation. Spencer, however, did point to the continuity of law as is evidenced in the biological and sociological worlds. Instead of an organism he could have used a species with much greater effect, for in a species are found, although in a crude and rudimentary stage, the first beginnings of social life.

One of the most striking, and yet at the same time one of the least observed, facts about specific action is the pre-eminence of the specific as such. The individual is secondary to the species. Instincts, which are characteristically the grand trunk line of transmission and continuity in the lower orders of the zoological series, are peculiar and very important in this, that they are always in their origin and bloom for the benefit of the species to which the animal may belong which possesses the instinct. They are of benefit to the individual only secondarily, in so far as that individual may be of benefit to the species. The mother gives up her life for the child. She dies, but the child, and through it the species, lives. The salmon struggles up the Columbia river for a thousand miles, is torn and battered by the rocks and waterfalls on the long and weary journey, lays its eggs, and dies; but the race lives on, although at the loss and sacrifice of one of its best members. The long history of the mammalia or mothers is a record of innumerable such examples. Of course, it is not necessarily true that the individual performs an instinctive act in order that the species may be benefited, but the persistent fact remains that in the long run only those species and individuals survive which act in such a way that the species may be further propagated. Instincts are always for species or race preservation. They are specific, altruistic, other-regarding, profoundly social. They may not be all consciously such, but in their origin and bloom they are in their final import intensely social. It is a question of survival. It is a question of propagation and of the safety and welfare of the propagated. The individuals of a species which do not propagate obviously nullify the probability of like descendants. That which militates against the species thereby militates against the survival of the members of that species. The species that survives is characterized by the

fact that its members act in such a manner that descendants are provided, and also provided for in some way or other. The goal of their activities is the young and their welfare. The young are heirs of all efforts directly or indirectly (Erziehung, eine Fortsetzung der Erzeugung). In the highest mammalian species, man, art, religion, and science are, in the long run, directly or indirectly, means for more certain perpetuation of the species and the more certain welfare of the same. The rank of a species is determined by the degree of such care for the young. The survival of the fittest means the survival of the parental, and all efforts are to be judged according to a parental standard. The greatest good to the greatest number must also be interpreted in a similar manner, not as the greatest happiness of the greatest number, but as such parental conduct, direct or indirect, as will be most conducive to the propagation and welfare of the species. As Herbert Spencer says, the continued life of the species is in every case the end to which all other ends are secondary (Principles of Sociology, Vol. I, p. 591). Through many stages of provincial patriotism and group-exclusiveness we have forged on until on the not far distant sky-line we see a state outlined where all humanity is our fatherland. All conduct is judged by nature according to the standard of survival.

In an organism, to recur to the Spencerian analogy, the conduct of the parts is determined by the welfare of the whole. That part which is detrimental to the whole organism is suicidal in tendency either immediately or mediately through the destruction of the whole organism. The safety of the parts lies in their general social efficiency. Their existence and perpetuation lie in their service to the general organization of which they form a part. To this extent an organism is similar to society, and to this extent is Spencer's analogy pertinent. Neither the science of sociology nor the science of ethical conduct, it is evident, can be drawn from the individual as such. Plato, it seems, saw this when he endeavored to derive the true significance of justice and righteousness from the state, and not from the individual.

It seems plain, then, that the individual as such has no

rights. The rights he may possess are attained by him through social service. It is through society that he acquires whatever rights he may claim. There was more sociological truth than cynicism in the reply of the French judge to a prisoner who excused his crime on the plea that "a man must live." Pardon me," came the rejoinder, "but I don't see the necessity." The inalienable rights of the individual are nil excepting in so far as society may grant them. The individual pure and simple, der · Mensch überhaupt, is a fiction. All which tends to survive is an organized whole of interacting parts.

The basis of sociality and the material of the science of sociology are therefore found in the interaction of parts which constitute a more or less organized whole. The organized whole, or society, is not something different from the interacting parts; the interacting parts are the society. The social is not the product of the interaction; it is the interaction. Each part is a partner or socius or Theilnehmer, the service or sociality of one part being complementary to the service of the other parts. Thus the social is reciprocal service. The social arises when the Nebeneinander becomes the Miteinander, when the anatomical becomes the physiological. The sociality consists in the correlated, co-ordinated activity of the integrated parts. Sociality is conduct, service rendered, not a consciousness of kind nor a feeling of sympathy, excepting in so far as they may be useful for the conduct of the parts.

Pitting the individual against society is an instance of crude sociological thought. Its ambiguity is at once manifest when one remembers that society does not exist as something separate from the integrated functions of the parts. It may be said that in the long run only those parts are allowed to exist which contribute to the social or organic welfare. The case in which possibly an individual may be pitted against the society is when the function of a part is prejudicial to organic survival. Such conduct is manifestly suicidal and, comparatively speaking, nontransmissible. It is, however, still a matter of sociality in that it is the service rendered by a part in an organized whole. It is, however, to be classed in what may be termed pathological as

opposed to normal sociology. The truest part of man, the best and most righteous, is that which is most specific and most altruistic, that which contributes most to social organic welfare, which again must be defined in terms of survival of wellprovided-for progeny. True selfishness or sin is that service rendered the whole which is for the individual's own immediate benefit and which is harmful to the body politic of which it forms a part. It may be incidentally mentioned at this point that on this basis a standard of values can be established in ethical matters—an impossible matter if the ethical standard is one of motives or happiness. The action of an educated man who can foresee future results is of more value than that of an ignorant man ruled by a few unbending motives.

The struggle for existence is a secondary law, being subordinate and subservient to the law of social service. The social service of the parts is improved by the betterment of the parts. Hence the worth of personality and individuality; hence the struggle for freedom in history. Self-preservation, self-control, and the perfection of one's own personality are duties, and imperative duties at that, but not categorical imperatives. "The perfection of one's powers" is, after all, only a means of obeying the categorical imperative of social service. It is here that we find the supreme court of appeal, from which there is no recourse. It may also be well to point out that from the biological and sociological standpoint it is not so much a question of the survival of individuals as a question of the survival of the best combination of parts—a much wider view.

This grounding of the social in the universal phenomena of the division of labor throws a strong light on certain prevalent theories as to the nature of sociology. One of the most prominent characteristics of this division of labor is the differentiation of parts. Integration of parts means the connected play of these parts, so that if one functions the others are affected. Differentiation from other organs means individuality and difference; integration is not necessarily an interaction of similar parts, but rather an interaction of the different parts. The phenomena of integration or sociality are therefore inadequately described as

"a consciousness of kind, a knowledge of resemblances, or a knowledge of like-mindedness" (Giddings).

Social life is mirrored in a football game. Each player has his function; each player thinks and acts his separate part. The signal given, the ball is snapped, each man leaps to his place, the fake pass is made, the proper interference aids the man who makes the run down the side lines, and the touch-down is made to the cheering of enthusiastic partisans. Each man acts, I say, his part, and the element they have in common is the goal. The common aim—the success of the team and the winning of the gamedoes not necessarily mean a common or similar method of action. Solidarity does not of necessity mean similarity, nor does community life mean common thoughts and actions. Nor in adult society, the training for which is the rational ground for play, do we find the process materially different. The material of social organization is not consciousness of kind, nor is it mainly such. The action of the mob, to which reference is so lovingly made by certain sociologists, is generally an instance in which the welfare of the whole is lost sight of, in which the single person becomes a unit in an aggregation, and in which there is a general return to the homogeneity of primitive conditions. The striking thing about a mob is not its social but its unsocial character. With the dispersion of the mob there begins again the process of differentiation and integration-true sociality. Of certain pigeons it is reported that they become extraordinarily stupid and incautious as soon as they become a part of great numbers in flight, but that they become wary, intelligent, and cautious when they are alone. Identification of the individual with the collective mass reduces it to the average level and causes temporary atrophy of certain more highly specialized qualities. The same phenomena are often observable in men and women who take refuge from their doubts and uncertainties in the infallible doctrines of the Roman Catholic church.

Consciousness of kind is characteristic of the lowest stages of society, and indicates a low level in a more highly evolved society. The struggle for existence implies a struggle of conflicting interests, different schools of thought and action. It is