truth is granted by implication. Conspicuous or dynamic men, who become models to thousands or millions of their fellows, are true social causes, and centers of social control. As they think, the multitude thinks; as they do, the multitude does, and for the most part unconsciously, every man believing that he thinks or acts spontaneously, and because it is his nature to think or to act so, and not otherwise.

Is not the conclusion obvious? Men in positions of authority, whether, as they believe, by divine right, or, as others think, by human choice, are necessarily conspicuous. Often they are men of power, and whether they would have it so or not, their decisions become to some extent the popular decision, and their voice becomes in part the people's voice. Without dictation or argument, and solely because their choice is spontaneously copied and their course of action is uncritically followed by multitudes that swear the choice was theirs, these men control. and controlling direct, the public complaisance and the public wrath. In the final throwing of the dice of fate, they are causes. of peace and war.

From this sober conclusion of inductive science I confess I see no escape. That it is in harmony with an unsophisticated moral prejudice is not, I wish to believe, a reason for distrusting it. The conscience of civilized mankind has never yet admitted that deliberately declared war has been irresponsibly begun. Rather has it held, that great men in all ages, as moulders of opinion and ministers of state, have been moral agents, rightly to be branded with infamy when, for their own aggrandizement or glory, they have drawn the sword.

One rule of policy then, it would seem, may fairly be derived from sociological theory for the discouragement of war. It is right and expedient to teach that exceptional men, and especially all emperors and presidents and ministers of state, are not puppets of the Zeitgeist, but, in a scientific sense of the word, are true social causes, and, as such, are morally respon-. sible for the maintenance of peace.

Beyond policies to restrain the makers of war, are there policies which might render the making of war more difficult?

The conditions preventive or inhibitive of war have been

three, namely: isolation, the inclusion of minor states within confederations or imperial systems, and the so-called balance of

power.

In the past mere inaccessibility of territory has assured the relatively peaceful development of many peoples, among whom some have made priceless contributions to civilization. There are no inaccessible nations now. Political integration has continually widened the areas within which domestic peace prevails, and the work is so far done that no important lands or peoples remain to be appropriated. Further integration will be redistributive only. There remains the balance of power, as the one important objective condition upon which the maintenance of peace will largely depend.

I am using the term in a general or descriptive, not a technical or diplomatic, sense. I mean by it political forces in approximate equilibrium throughout the world. In this sense the balance of power is a sociological phenomenon of peculiar interest, for two reasons.

First, it is interesting because of its nature or composition. It is a distribution of forces roughly in accordance with what the mathematician calls "chance occurrence." If as many as a thousand shots are fired at a target, those that miss the bull'seye are distributed about it with curious regularity. Of those that miss it by three inches, about as many will hit above as below, about as many to the left as to the right. Of those that miss it by six inches, about as many will hit right as left, about as many below as above. In like manner a balance of power is a symmetrical distribution of forces about a central point. An international balance of power exists when, with reference to any interest or question upon which states may differ, as many strong powers range themselves on one side as on the other, and the weak ones are symmetrically distributed with reference to the strong ones.

Does this bit of exposition seem too elementary or too academic to bring into a discussion of world-peace? Let me then ask if a corollary from the principle stated may be taken for granted? The probability of a symmetrical distribution of shots or of forces about a central point increases with their

number. Fifty shots about a bull's-eye would not be so regularly distributed as a thousand. A million shots would make a nearly circular pattern. If, then, an International Court of Arbitral Justice should be established at the Hague, or elsewhere, would the chances that the political forces represented there would remain in approximate balance be increased, if, meanwhile, a number of the now independent small states of Europe and the East should be absorbed in one or more of the great imperial systems? Or need we fear that the chances of equilibrium would、 be diminished if one or two of the more heterogeneous imperial systems should some day be resolved into independent states, each relatively homogeneous and individual?

The balance of power is of interest, secondly, because it is correlated with government by discussion. Bagehot's chapter on this subject deals chiefly with the nature of such government and its consequences. Like compound evolution, government by discussion is a slow, irregular, and unbusiness-like procedure: and therein lies its value. It inhibits ill-considered action. It gives passion time to cool, it makes for moderation and for poise. Bagehot does, however, ask how government by discussion arises. His answer is, on the whole, the least satisfactory part of his book, but it is essentially correct. Government by discussion arose, he says, in those nations that had a polity, that is to say, a constitution. Greeks and Germans had what Aristotle calls the mixed government. King, aristocracy, and freemen participated in it. Here, then, were distinct political forces in balance, and because they were in balance they had to talk before they could act.

Our modern account of reason and its relations to instinct enables us to generalize Mr. Bagehot's guess and to verify it. Government by discussion depends upon a balance of power and necessarily proceeds from it. It is a social expansion of the reasoning processes of the individual mind.

So

Reasoning begins when instinct fails or is inhibited. long as we can confidently act, we do not argue, but when we face conditions abounding in uncertainty or when we are confronted by alternative possibilities, we first hesitate, then feel our way, then guess, and at length venture to reason. Reason

ing, accordingly, is that action of the mind to which we resort when the possibilities before us and about us are distributed substantially according to the law of chance occurrence, or, as the mathematician would say, in accordance with "the normal curve" of random frequency. The moment the curve is obviously skewed, we decide. If it is obviously skewed from the beginning, by bias, or interest, by prejudice, authority, or coercion, our reasoning is futile or imperfect. interest or coalition of interests is

So, in the state, if any dominant and can act Whether it is benevo

· promptly, it rules by absolutist methods. lent or cruel, it wastes neither time nor resources upon government by discussion. But if interests are innumerable, and so distributed as to offset one another, and if no great bias or overweighting anywhere appears, government by discussion inevitably arises. The interests can get together only if they talk. So, too, in international relations. If in coming years these shall be adjusted by reason instead of by force, by arbitration instead of by war, it will be because a true balance of power has been attained. If any one power or coalition of powers shall be able to dictate, it will also rule, and the appeal to reason will be vain.

By what policies can an equilibrium of international power be established? I shall only name those that the foregoing considerations suggest, and not attempt to describe or to analyze them. They must of course be policies that will tend both to differentiate interests and to disintegrate coalitions of power that create an overwhelming preponderance of strength. The great superiorities that now preclude effective government by discussion throughout the world are, (1) technical proficiency based on scientific knowledge, and (2) concentrated economic power. If we sincerely wish for peace, we must be willing to see a vast equalizing of industrial efficiency between the East and the West. We must also welcome every change that tends to bring about a fairer apportionment of natural resources among nations and within them, and a more equal distribution of wealth. If these conditions can be met, there will be a Parliament of Man. If they cannot be met, a nominal government by discussion I will be but a tournament of words.

THE RACIAL ELEMENT IN SOCIAL ASSIMILATION

ULYSSES G. WEATHERLY
Indiana University

There are three historical stages in the evolution of organized society, the tribe, the state, and the nation. Corresponding with these stages are three principles of organization, kinship, authority, and citizenship. The order of these principles conforms in general to the Spencerian law of growth, for they represent a progressive change from simplicity to complexity and an increasing integration and heterogeneity. In the kinship period civilization is wholly genetic, in the ethnic period largely so. In these two periods social growth is in some degree analogous to the growth of animal species. Primitive contacts are confined largely to kindred. Now ideas of contact, as Crawley has so conclusively shown, are at the basis of all conceptions of human relations at every stage of culture. Contact is the single general test, as it is the most elementary form, of mutual relations.1

In the kinship group a high degree of intensive association is generated through mere propinquity, while a corresponding avoidance of outside contacts prevents the growth of that sympathy between groups without which even the most. elementary forms of co-operation are impossible. "To primitive thought a stranger is a potential foe." Social standards being fixed wholly within the group itself, that which does not conform to these is regarded not only as alien but as immoral. Ethical dualism, the illuminating phrase for which sociologists are indebted to Professor Ross, exactly defines the conventional status of the individual with reference to his own group and with reference to outside groups. It is not true, however, that ethical dualism ceases with the end of the kinship period or even the ethnic period. In his social relations modern social