a desire gratified.  Now it is clear that if these vices spread too much, if they are not complemented by an increase of material resources, of knowledge, of sufficient population, they can lead a nation rapidly to ruin.  We do not feel very keenly the fear of this danger—­the European-American civilisation is so rich, has at its disposal so much knowledge, so many men, so many instrumentalities, has cut off for itself such a measureless part of the globe, that it can afford to look unafraid into the future.  The abyss is so far away that only a few philosophers barely descry it in the gray mist of distant years.  But the ancient world—­so much poorer, smaller, weaker—­felt that it could not squander as we do, and saw the abyss near at hand.

To-day men and women waste fabulous wealth in luxury; that is, they spend not to satisfy some reasonable need, but to show to others of their kind how rich they are, or, further, to make others believe them richer than they are.  If these resources were everywhere saved as they are in France, the progress of the world would be quicker, and the new countries would more easily find in Europe and in themselves the capital necessary for their development.  At all events, our age develops fast, and notwithstanding all this waste, abounds in a plenty that is enough to keep men from fearing the growth of this wanton luxury and from planning to restrain it by laws.  In the ancient world, on the other hand, the wealthy classes and the state had only to abandon themselves a little too much to the prodigality that for us has become almost a regular thing, when suddenly means were wanting to meet the most essential needs of social life.  Tacitus has summarised an interesting discourse of Tiberius, in which the famous emperor censures the ladies of Rome in terms cold, incisive, and succinct, because they spend too much money on pearls and diamonds.  “Our money,” said Tiberius, “goes away to India and we are in want of the precious metals to carry on the military administration; we have to give up the defence of the frontiers.”  According to the opinion of an administrator so sagacious and a general so valiant as Tiberius, in the richest period of the Roman Empire, a lady of Rome could not buy pearls and diamonds without directly weakening the defence of the frontiers.  Indulgence in the luxury of jewels looked almost like high treason.

Similar observations might be made on another grave question—­the increase of population.  One of the most serious effects of individualism that accompanies the increase of civilisation and wealth, is the decrease of the birth-rate.  France, which knows how to temper its luxury, which gives to other peoples an example of saving means for the future, has on the other hand given the example of egoism in the family, lowering the birth-rate.  England, for a long time so fecund, seems to follow France.  The more uniformly settled and well-to-do parts of the North American Union, the Eastern States and New