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 aesthetic 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 æsthetic 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

wants.

The average man, if left perfectly free to do as he chose, would go hunting or fishing rather than present himself at some social function, say a reception. And when one thinks of some of the more serious social activities which Groos would class as play, such as dressing in fashion, having as good a house as one's neighbor, educating his children as well, holding membership in as high-toned clubs, and so on, he can appreciate that these make as heavy demands upon the will as tilling the soil, keeping books, or directing a bank, or preaching, or instructing a class of students. In general, the latest activities in racial evolution are hardest for the individual; the lines of least resistance run in the direction of the primitive pastimes of the race, especially if these have persisted for a long time.

UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN.

M. V. O'SHEA.

THE HORSESHOERS' STRIKE OF PHILADELPHIA.1

LABOR has found the union its most effective weapon in wringing unwilling concessions from the hands of capital; while capital has, in turn, found association or agreement the most effective means of resisting what it deems the unreasonable demands of labor. But, in a competitive system, the temptation to disregard agreements for the sake of personal aggrandizement is much greater for capital than for labor. Although done with all outward show of good faith, such breaches of contract are sure to be discovered sooner or later, causing dissent among those who could otherwise unite for a common cause. Labor always profits by this dissent. Such was the situation among the horseshoers of Philadelphia in June of the present year, which resulted in a strike of the journeymen. Though purely local, this strike is, nevertheless, of much interest to all who are concerned with labor problems.

The strike was begun on June 9, 1902, by the Journeymen Horseshoers, Local No. 6, against the Master Horseshoers' Protective Association, Local No. 23. The strike lasted over a week, in which time both parties were in constant conference. Before entering into the causes of the strike and the demands of the strikers, it may be well to give a few words in explanation of the classes of men engaged in the horseshoers' trade. A complete shop includes a master, journeymen, and apprentices. The masters and journeymen are organized in unions, while the apprentices join the ranks of the journeymen as their term of apprenticeship expires.

THE MASTER HORSESHOERS' PROTECTIVE ASSOCIATION.

The Master Horseshoers' Protective Association is an incorporated body which was organized under the laws of Pennsyl

'For the facts contained in this article the writer is indebted to Professor John W. Adams, of the University of Pennsylvania, a member of the Master Horseshoers' Protective Association, and chairman of their committee to settle the strike.

vania in June, 1893, and reorganized in November, 1897. Now, a "master" is simply an employing horseshoer paying wages to men under him; but to be eligible to the association he must, according to the constitution, have worked at the trade and served the required term of apprenticeship. These qualifications, however, are not always strictly insisted upon; for a widow of a master horseshoer is allowed to continue his business by paying the regular dues of the association. Again, Professor John W. Adams, of the University of Pennsylvania, represents as a master horseshoer the "shop" of the Veterinary School, an institution which was obliged to join the association as the result of the adoption of a stamp by the National Horseshoers' Protective Association in 1898. The use of this stamp is regulated by the by-laws of the local association. Thus, the members of the association are not permitted to drive or tighten shoes that have not been put on and stamped by a member of the association. The stamp, however, can be put upon new shoes only at the time they are fitted, and a heavy penalty is imposed upon any member keeping stamped shoes in stock. In addition to the stamp of the national association, each member must stamp his own name on each shoe which is put on a horse in his shop. The object of the stamp is to be able to discriminate against non-union shops. Thus, if a horse shod in a non-union shop should lose a shoe and be taken by his owner to a union shop to have the shoe replaced, the union shop will refuse to do the work. But union men will gladly put on one or more new shoes bearing their own stamp.

The preamble of the constitution of the masters' association states that "one of the grand objects" of the association is to rescue their trade from the conditions into which it has fallen; to elevate themselves to that condition in society to which they, as mechanics, hold themselves justly entitled; to place themselves on a foundation sufficiently strong to secure themselves from further encroachments; and to elevate the conditions of their industry in Philadelphia and vicinity.

Further objects of their association are set forth in Art. II of the constitution, as follows: