we have discovered America and invented railways we have not become demi-gods; we are still only men. All the weaknesses of human nature which the moralists of olden times discovered and analysed so subtly still subsist in us, and still distract us; we must pay nature, the great equaliser, the price for the advantages secured to us by the sum of the work of preceding generations; and many are the forms in which that payment is made. Nervous illnesses, insanity, and suicides are on the increase. Sterility is spreading, especially in the peoples and countries that have been most highly favoured by the development of modern civilisation. A discontent as deep as it is unreasonable seems to pervade the world, with each improvement in the conditions of every class. One might say that man has become insatiable. The more blessings are heaped upon him, the more he complains. The more he possesses, the more he thinks himself poor and needy. The fewer are the causes for grief and the dangers around him, the more wretched he feels. These apparent paradoxes, these inexplicable contradictions are only the warnings life utters to remind men of the μηδὲν ἅγαν of ancient wisdom. The modern world suffers from the excesses to which it abandons itself, even if it will not acknowledge this fact. Those who try to recall the modern world to a more harmonious ideal of life do it a service whose usefulness is most strikingly proved by the attitude of resentment it assumes towards their efforts. Ladies and Gentlemen: I feel somewhat ashamed that my contribution to your work must be merely these few general considerations. Dissertations on the ends to be aimed at are easy enough to concoct, but the task is apt to be a theoretical one of little enough utility. The important thing in all the great social problems is the means of attaining those ends. That is the point upon which all our efforts, all our intelligence, all our wills, must converge. I cannot be of any use to you in that, by reason of my incompetence. I can only attend this congress as an onlooker anxious to learn, come not to purvey information but to convey it away. I must then confine myself at the conclusion of my speech to wishing your task and your labours all the success which your energy, your enthusiasm, and your faith deserve. But this wish of mine, though sterile in itself, owing to my inability to take an active part in your work, is none the less cordial. By birth, by natural tendencies, and by education, I belong to a culture which has always tended to harmony, moderation, and equilibrium. I have passed a portion of my life in studying the ancient civilisations which created so many beautiful and profound things because they succeeded in limiting themselves. I have visited and studied also those vast new civilisations on the other side of the Atlantic, which seem to be aiming at the realisation of the perfect type of the unlimited civilisation.