the McDougallians, and the pleaders for sex and the unconscious, the
Freudians. A synthesis between these two groups is latent, since their
differences are those of horizon merely. For the McDougallians look
upon the world with two eyes and see it whole and broad--the Freudians
see through their telescope a circular field and exclaim that they
behold the universe. It is true that they own a telescope.

But what has either to offer our quest for light on the future of
the species? Nothing very much. Thus, to turn to the disciples
of McDougall. In a recent volume entitled, "Human Nature and its
Remaking," Professor William Ernest Hocking of Harvard contends that
Man, all axioms about his nature to the contrary, is but a creature
of habit, and so the most plastic of living things, since habit is
self-controlled and self-determined. By the self-determination of the
habits of the race will the new freedom be reborn. It sounds old,
very old. And pathetic because it recognizes original and permanent
ingredients of our composition in the words pugnacity, greed, sex,
fear, as elements to be accepted in any system of the principles of
civilization. It is the bubble of education all over again. What in
our cells is pugnacity? What in our bones is greed? What in our
blood is sex? What in our nerves is fear? Until these inquiries are
respected, conscious character building or even stock breeding must
remain the laughing stock of the smoking rooms and the regimental
barracks.

Come the Freudians. To them we owe the aeroplanes to a new universe.
They have opened up for us the geology of the soul. Layer upon layer,
cross-section upon cross-section have been piled before us. And what
a melodramatic cinema of thrills and shivers, villains and heroes,
heroines and adventuresses have they not unfolded. Each motive, as