Page:American Journal of Sociology Volume 9.djvu/564

546 gods are remembered in danger, forgotten in prosperity. They are valued as a prop when the state rests on authority, discarded when government is founded on consent. They are relied on to safeguard rights only so long as Justice holds no sword. Every step in the mastery of nature and the control of men blunts the sense of dependence on the Unseen. Security from violence, or plague, or future torment lessens the poignancy of the religious feeling. As people come to look to the policeman for protection, to the physician for healing, to the inventor for victory, and to themselves for worldly success, their zeal in worship abates. Such sloughings leave religion purer and nobler, no doubt, but less able to control the destiny of society. Its new channel is deeper than the old, but far narrower.

The intellectual interest is likewise a blend of various desires. Had it been restricted to its primitive components, its rôle would have been insignificant. But these cravings have been reinforced from several quarters. In the first place, intellectual subtlety, always a coveted form of prowess, gratifies the egotic desires. Even in the early stages of culture a reputation for extraordinary wisdom gives the sage fame, power, and wealth. Later, learning confers distinction and is not without efficacy in bread-winning and mate-winning. At every social level, moreover, there is a standard of intelligence to be lived up to as well as a standard of decent consumption. As for real knowledge, it has always been means as well as end. The sciences were first cultivated as badges of leisure-class superiority. Later they were fostered because they allayed the dread of disease, banished fear of the supernatural, assuaged pain, prolonged life, brought victory, and, as technique, vastly expanded the production of wealth. They were cultivated, in short, because knowledge is power. When, moreover, we remember the meteoric career of speculative ideas which, besides molding lives and shaping institutions, have knit men together or marshaled them into hostile camps, the intellectual interest must be owned to be a factor in history of no mean importance.

Like the rest the intellectual interest has its ups and downs. It wanes as men lose faith in the efficacy of speculative ideas