Properly understood, this place is a relatively humble one. In our analysis of personality in the previous chapter, four major instincts were defined. The first, the instinct of self-preservation has to do with the maintenance of physical life; the second, the third and the fourth, as they appear in their full development, are mainly concerned with the spiritual expression of life. The first is the necessary basis of the other three—the foundation, as it were, upon which they build; but the real significance and joy of life are associated predominantly with the impulses of creativeness, sociability, and reflection. Now, the economic business of life has to do almost exclusively with the instinct of self-preservation; its function ends with the provision of the conditions and materials of a wholesome physical existence. Yet to-day, the economic interests absorb virtually the whole of life; the ultimate interests of life—that range of things which we may broadly call _spiritual_, if they are not subordinated to and absorbed in the economic motive, are consigned to the odds and ends of time which we are able to spare from the sovereign business of making a fortune or making a living. The distinctive human interests of religion, thought, art, and recreation are no more than occasional alternatives which enable us to some extent to repair the wear and tear of the ceaseless economic drive. The real revolution we need is the general conviction that to put it roughly—as the kitchen is to the home, so the economic interest is to the rest of life. The kitchen is indispensable to the home; and there are exceptional persons to whom it is the most important part of the home. Yet it is no more than a strictly subordinate part of the home. When we have finished with the business of procuring and eating bread, then the real business of life begins. It is indeed necessary that the kitchen should be in tune with home, and that the work of producing and distributing the primary necessities of life should be organised so as to be consistent with the spiritual realisation of life. We can, of course, no longer admit a dualism of material and spiritual; for the spiritual may and must infuse the material and subordinate it to its own ends. To-day the material has made the spiritual ancillary to itself; and the soul is the drudge of the body. The radical problem of the future is how to reverse this position and to enthrone the spiritual.