But Santerre protested:  “No, no; Paris simply wishes to remain stationary, and it wishes this precisely because it is the most intelligent, most highly civilized city in the world.  The more nations advance in civilization the smaller becomes their birth-rate.  We are simply giving the world an example of high culture, superior intelligence, and other nations will certainly follow that example when in turn they also attain to our state of perfection.  There are signs of this already on every side.”

“Quite so!” exclaimed Seguin, backing up his friend.  “The phenomenon is general; all the nations show the same symptoms, and are decreasing in numbers, or will decrease as soon as they become civilized.  Japan is affected already, and the same will be the case with China as soon as Europe forces open the door there.”

Mathieu had become grave and attentive since the two society men, seated before him in evening dress, had begun to talk more rationally.  The pale, slim, flat virgin, their ideal of feminine beauty, was no longer in question.  The history of mankind was passing by.  And almost as if communing with himself, he said:  “So you do not fear the Yellow Peril, that terrible swarming of Asiatic barbarians who, it was said, would at some fatal moment sweep down on our Europe, ravage it, and people it afresh?  In past ages, history always began anew in that fashion, by the sudden shifting of oceans, the invasion of fierce rough races coming to endow weakened nations with new blood.  And after each such occurrence civilization flowered afresh, more broadly and freely than ever.  How was it that Babylon, Nineveh, and Memphis fell into dust with their populations, who seem to have died on the spot?  How is it that Athens and Rome still agonize to-day, unable to spring afresh from their ashes and renew the splendor of their ancient glory?  How is it that death has already laid its hand upon Paris, which, whatever her splendor, is but the capital of a France whose virility is weakened?  You may argue as you please and say that, like the ancient capitals of the world, Paris is dying of an excess of culture, intelligence, and civilization; it is none the less a fact that she is approaching death, the turn of the tide which will carry splendor and power to some new nation.  Your theory of equilibrium is wrong.  Nothing can remain stationary; whatever ceases to grow, decreases and disappears.  And if Paris is bent on dying, she will die, and the country with her.”

“Well, for my part,” declared Santerre, resuming the pose of an elegant pessimist, “if she wishes to die, I shan’t oppose her.  In fact, I’m fully determined to help her.”

“It is evident that the really honest, sensible course is to check any increase of population,” added Seguin.