solved the problem of the control and use of the natural media and the problem of the relation between the individual and the body politic. Writers like Cliffe Leslie, Arnold Toynbee, and Dr. Ingram emphasized in their day the dependence of economic science upon sociology. Their teachings are almost forgotten, and it is high time the cry were raised, Back to the sociologist!

A scientific problem cannot be solved unscientifically. No wonder practical confusion is the only visible result of the haphazard efforts of the past. To denounce union men for submitting to tyranny, as Mr. Spencer did in recent years, is as easy as it is futile. Equally futile is the preaching of moral commonplaces to employers. What is our ideal in industry? What conditions are we desirous of bringing about? We can be certain of progress only when we have a goal in view and march toward it. Is co-operation the "coming" industrial system, as many thinkers are beginning to recognize? If so, must we count altogether on the play of private interests to produce the change, or is it possible and wise to assist nature? Crude legislation conceived in ignorance of economic and social principles is certainly not the sort of assistance one should desire, but scientific prevision is extremely valuable. If there is a science of society, such prevision is possible. If there is a science of society, the harmonizing of the interests of employers and employed is possible, though the process may involve revision of current theories of rent, interest, profits, and wages.

CHICAGO.

VICTOR S. YARROS.

MOOT POINTS IN SOCIOLOGY.

VI. THE FACTORS OF SOCIAL CHANGE.

IT is clear that along with the organic analogy we must give up the time-honored division into social anatomy, social physiology, and social psychology. Since there is no social cadaver to dissect, why use the term "anatomy," which refers to the knowledge gained by the simple "cutting up" (ava тoμeív) of a body? Say rather social morphology, which will describe, not only human relations and groupings, but also their mutations in the course of time—their embryology, so to speak. Why apply the term "physiology" to the description of processes and products that are in no wise physical? The fact that such interactions as conflict and competition involve something more than the action of mind on mind need not hinder us from recognizing that what the organicists call "function" or "life" in society is essentially psychical and naturally becomes the subject-matter of social psychology. As for social pathology, it cannot "arrive" until we have a means of distinguishing the normal from the abnormal in society. So long as divorce and lynching and political crime and the trust movement lend themselves to precisely opposite interpretations, there is no firm line to be drawn between social health and social disease. Each school of thought has its own diagnosis of the morbid, and no objective tests have yet been agreed on.

On mounting from the plane of description to that of theory, it becomes possible to bisect sociology into social statics and social dynamics. This division has always been made to hinge on the purely formal contrast of coexistence and succession. A study of cross-sections or flash-light pictures of society would show what social structures belong together-are congruous. The comparison of series of such states in different societies would disclose regularities of succession. If this were so, the cross-section of a society in feverish transformation would be as

instructive as any other, seeing that order can always be considered apart from movement. In point of fact, however, such a society would not present a system of mutually determining parts and interdependent activities, i. e., an "order," but would be full of incongruities. Statical laws can be discovered only where there is an equilibrium which permits the inner affinities and repugnances of institutions to disclose themselves. But a society that keeps in balance is ruled by forces and activities quite different from those that prevail in a highly progressive community. The distinction, therefore, between social statics and social dynamics, far from being one of mere logic, reaches deep into the subject-matter of sociology.

In every society are certain factors, such as religion, government, custom, law, and ceremony, which are actively static, inasmuch as they resist structural change of every sort. Language, literature, art, industry, education, and opinion are passively static— or shall I say neutral?-lending themselves indifferently to the agencies of stagnation and to those of change. In strong contrast are the dynamic factors, such as domestication, geographical discovery, exploration, migration, acclimatization, war, conquest, racecrossing, commerce, travel, invention, scientific discovery, prophetism, and free thought. The professionals of law, government, and religion are apt to hate and belittle these dynamic factors and processes. Nor are they beloved of the masses, as are the great conservative institutions. Popular affections do not twine about them as about church and state. Race intermarriage, foreign influence, science, free thought, and prophetism have usually been looked at askance. Men always consider religion and government as infinitely more precious than discovery and invention. This division into statics and dynamics is, then, grounded not simply on the distinction between order and movement, relations of coexistence and those of succession, but as well on the broad contrast between the forces and activities that make for equilibrium and those which make for change.

The point needs to be emphasized that social dynamics is concerned with change rather than evolution. The term "evolu

tion," while very properly calling attention to the continuity of social change and to resident forces as causing change, is apt to convey the idea that the series of social changes is the mere unfolding of characters preformed in the very germ or bud of society. An idea so misleading should be diligently avoided. It will never do to assume that the succession of social changes is predetermined, and that accidental, extraneous, and historic events and influences are not among the causes of variations.

Again it is essential not to identify social dynamics with the theory of social progress. The promotion of progress is, of course, our greatest practical concern, but the true cleavage between social statics and social dynamics turns on the distinction between persistence and change. Change means any qualitative variation, whereas progress means amelioration, perfectionment. The one is movement; the other is movement in the direction of advantage. Progress is better adaptation to given conditions. Change may be adaptation-at first, perhaps, very imperfect to new conditions.

The biologist can assure himself whether a given variation is a progress by observing if it leaves the creature better able to survive. The sociologist, alas, has no such simple practical test. A society is not solidary to anything like the degree that most organisms are, and it is not so incessantly pitted against other societies. As regards the effects on its members, we find any number of institutional changes which are progress from the standpoint of one sex, class, race, or local group, but spell regress for another sex, class, race, or local group. It is not easy to characterize them from the view-point of "society as a whole," for it is by no means clear what is best for "society as a whole." Each of us considers a change progressive when it advances society toward his ideal. But one man's ideal is freedom, while another's is order; one man borrows from biology the criterion of differentiation, while another imports from psychology the idea of harmony; one man's touchstone is the happiness of the many, while another's is the perfecting of the the superior few. It is therefore hopeless to look for a test of progress that shall be objective and valid for all. Since change is

a matter of observation, whereas progress is a matter of judgment involving the application of a subjective standard, those who desire to see sociology a true science are justified in insisting that social dynamics deal with the factors and manner, not of social progress merely, but of social change.

In the arts we ask if the new thing is more useful than the old; in the sciences we ask if the new proposition brings us nearer the truth. But there are other important changes for which there is no sure test. In Rome during most of the imperial period that progress which flows from the advance of technique and knowledge was almost unknown. Says Seeck :

From Augustus to Diocletian the equipment of the legionary remained the same. No improvement of tactics, no new means of warfare, was developed in the course of three centuries. . . . . Neither in agriculture nor in technique nor in administration does a single new idea of any significance come to light after the first century. Literature and art, too, are confined to a sterile imitation which becomes ever more empty and feeble. . . . . The Neo-Platonic philosophy and the development of Christian dogma are the only achievements which relieve this era from complete futility.

Yet these barren ages are full of social changes which are richly instructive as to the forces that lurk in the bosom of society. Why, after the gulf between Romans and provincials had been filled in, did a chasm open between honestiores and humiliores? Why did slaves give place to coloni and adscripti glebae? Why did the law fetter the worker to his father's occupation? Why did taxes come to be paid in kind? Why did the petty landowner voluntarily yield up his holding to some powerful proprietor in order to receive it back on a feudal tenure? Why did gladiatorial shows cease? What influence lifted the "overseer" of the early Christian community to the lofty chair of the episcopus or bishop? What was it that elevated the bishop of Rome to the papal throne? How can the rise of the monastic movement be explained? Surely the forces here at work should figure in a theory of social dynamics!

When a mammal thrust northward gets a heavier coat of hair, or a bird acquires the nest-building instinct with the advent of a rodent that destroys her eggs and young on the ground, we have a case of adaptation. Now, this way of inter