nineteenth-century evolutionism, and the generation that saw the last
years of the nineteenth century and the first part of the new, basking
in its day dreams of self-complacency, made no move to avert the dangers
that threatened it then and now menace it with destruction.

When, therefore, modernism achieved its grand climacteric in July, 1914,
we had on the one hand an imperialism of force, in industry, commerce,
and finance, expressing itself through highly developed specialists, and
dictating the policies and practices of government, society, and
education; on the other, a democracy of form which denied, combated, and
destroyed distinction in personality and authority in thought, and
discouraged constructive leadership in the intellectual, spiritual, and
artistic spheres of activity. The opposition was absolute, the results
catastrophic. The lack of competent leadership in every category of life
finds a sufficient explanation in the two opposed forces, in their
origin and nature, and in the fact of their opposition.

In the somewhat garish light of the War and the Peace, it would not be
difficult to feel a real and even poignant sympathy for two causes that
were prominent and popular in the first fourteen years of the present
century, namely, the philosophy that based itself on a mechanical system
of evolution which predicted unescapable, irreversible human progress,
and that religion which denied the reality of evil in the world. The
plausibility of each was dissipated by the catastrophic events though
both still linger in stubborn unconsciousness of their demise. The
impulse towards sympathy is mitigated by realization of the unfortunate
effect they exerted on history. This is particularly true of
evolutionary philosophy, which was held as an article of faith, either
consciously or sub-consciously, by the greater part of Western society.
Not only did it deter men from realizing the ominous tendency of events