“We were living on rations before we worked it out,” she said. “But we did work it out. You see, before a child comes to one of us there is a period of utter exaltation--the whole being is uplifted and filled with a concentrated desire for that child. We learned to look forward to that period with the greatest caution. Often our young women, those to whom motherhood had not yet come, would voluntarily defer it. When that deep inner demand for a child began to be felt she would deliberately engage in the most active work, physical and mental; and even more important, would solace her longing by the direct care and service of the babies we already had.” She paused. Her wise sweet face grew deeply, reverently tender. “We soon grew to see that mother-love has more than one channel of expression. I think the reason our children are so--so fully loved, by all of us, is that we never--any of us--have enough of our own.” This seemed to me infinitely pathetic, and I said so. “We have much that is bitter and hard in our life at home,” I told her, “but this seems to me piteous beyond words--a whole nation of starving mothers!” But she smiled her deep contented smile, and said I quite misunderstood. “We each go without a certain range of personal joy,” she said, “but remember--we each have a million children to love and serve--_our_ children.” It was beyond me. To hear a lot of women talk about “our children”! But I suppose that is the way the ants and bees would talk--do talk, maybe. That was what they did, anyhow. When a woman chose to be a mother, she allowed the child-longing to grow within her till it worked its natural miracle. When she did not so choose she put the whole thing out of her mind, and fed her heart with the other babies. Let me see--with us, children--minors, that is--constitute about three-fifths of the population; with them only about one-third, or less. And precious--! No sole heir to an empire’s throne, no solitary millionaire baby, no only child of middle-aged parents, could compare as an idol with these Herland children. But before I start on that subject I must finish up that little analysis I was trying to make. They did effectually and permanently limit the population in numbers, so that the country furnished plenty for the fullest, richest life for all of them: plenty of everything, including room, air, solitude even. And then they set to work to improve that population in quality--since they were restricted in quantity. This they had been at work on, uninterruptedly, for some fifteen hundred years. Do you wonder they were nice people? Physiology, hygiene, sanitation, physical culture--all that line of work had been perfected long since. Sickness was almost wholly unknown among them, so much so that a previously high development in what we call the “science of medicine” had become practically a lost art. They were a clean-bred, vigorous lot, having the best of care, the most perfect living conditions always.