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THE LABOUR MOVEMENT
THE
REFORMER'S
BOOK-SHELF.
Cloth, 3s. 6d. per Volume.
I. THE ENGLISH PEASANT. Studies : Historical, Local,
and Biogiaphic. By RiCHAED Heath.
n. SIXTY YEARS OF AN AGITATOR'S LIFE. A cheap
re-issue of the Autobiography of George Jacob
HoLTOAEE. 2 Vols., with front. Portrait.
m. THE LABOUR MOYEKENT. By L. T. Hobhouse.
With Preface by R. B. Haldane, M.P.
IV. THE LIFE OF SAMUEL BAMFORD. Introduction by
Henry Dunckley.
OTHER VOLUMES IN PREPAEATION.
LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN.
THE
LABOUR MOVEMENT
BY
L. T. HOBHOUSE
Late Fellow of Corpus Christi College, Oxford, formerly Fellow ofMerton College
WITH PREFACE BY R. B. HALDANE, M.P,
SECOND EDITION
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T. FISHER UNWIN
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CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
THE AIMS OF LABOUR 1
CHAPTER n.
TRADE UNIONISM AND THE CONTROL OF PRODUCTION . 6
CHAPTER HI.
THE AIMS AND METHODS OF CO-OrERATION ... 33
CHAPTER IV.
THE DISTRIBUTION OF WEALTH 55
CHAPTER V.
THE CONTROL OF INDUSTRY AND THE LIBERTY OF THE
INDIVIDUAL 80
PEEFATOEY NOTE.
The following chapters profess to give neither a history of
the Labour Movement nor a statistical account of the
present industrial position. Their aim is merely, first, to
state and briefly defend certain principles of economic
reform ; secondly, to show that under many differences of
application and detail these principles are common to
various industrial movements of the present day ; and
accordingly to argue that the movements in question have
a natural basis for a closer alliance with one another and a
reasonable claim on the support of all who desire a remedy
for economic evils.
My obligations to several authors will be obvious enough ;
but I wish expressly to acknowledge how much I owe to
Mrs. Webb's " Co-operative Movement " and Professor Mar-
shall's " Principles of Economics." I have also to thank
Mrs. Vaughan Nash for several suggestions, and Mr. Tom
viu PBEFATOBY NOTE.
Mann for many fruitful and stimulating ideas ; and I am
under a special obligation to Miss Llewelyn Davies (Secre-
tary of the Women's Co-operative Guild) for most valuable
suggestions and criticisms on points of principle and
arrangement, and for drawing my attention to many illus-
trative details of Trade Union and Co-operative work.
NOTE TO SECOND EDITION.
In republishing this Essay with comparatively few
alterations, the writer hopes that he will not be taken
to be unconscious of its many deficiencies and short-
comings. Had circumstances permitted, a fuller revision
would have been undertaken, but it is hoped that as the
work stands it may serve as an elementary introduction
to certain aspects of economic theory and industrial move-
ment which are more elaborately treated in larger works.
PKEFACE.
A DISTINGUISHED colonial statesman once said that it had
taken the working classes of his colony ten years to find
out the power which the extension of the suffrage had con-
ferred on them. Nearly ten years have passed since the
franchise was extended to the rural labourers here. In the
main they appear to have found their political feet. But the
result has hardly been what was looked for by the Eadical
leaders of 1885. It is true that the government of this
country is, in substance, if not in form, aim est completely
democratic. But experience has shown that somewhere
in the reasoning of the poHticians who, like Mr. Chamberlain,
predicted that with the new franchise those who remained
on earth would witness a political millennium, there lurked
a fallacy. That fallacy has now been dragged to light. It
turns out to have been a very simple one. It consisted in
the assumption that Democracy and Eadicalism were con-
vertible terms. That they are not, we now know. We have
witnessed a tendency in the working men of the towns to
turn Conservative, and so to neutralise that shifting of the
balance of political power which took place in 1885. What
is the inference ? There are those who decline to believe
that the social arrangements of this country are perfect, or
even within measurable distance of perfection. They assert
X PItEFACE.
more loudly than ever that the system under which the pro-
ducts of industry continue to be distributed is pervaded by
gross and cruel injustice. They declare, too, that the vp-orking
people are alive to this fact and are prepared to insist upon
reform. And they draw the conclusion that the failure of
motive power in the machine of progress is to be sought, not
in the Democracy, but in the Eadicalism of to-day.
Let us look more closely at these criticisms of our
Eadical politics. " He, whoever he is," said a great Ger-
man, "who acts on one maxim is a pedant, and spoils things
for himself and others." There is current a tendency
to act on one maxim. It is forgotten that what was the
truth for the last generation is not necessarily the truth for
this. Cobden and Bright proclaimed fifty years ago that
the next step was to sweep away the remaining vestiges of
legal interference with the import of food. They succeeded
in persuading the nation to take that step. They had the
requisite force only because they looked at the one maxim,
and concentrated themselves on its application. True, when
they went further and applied it to labour, as though it also
were a commodity, they proved themselves open, in the
matter of their opposition to Factory Legislation, to the sus-
picion of pedantry. But it is as wrong to-day to decry
Cobden and Bright because they took what was undoubtedly
the truth as regards the Corn Laws to be the truth for all
times and all circumstances, as it would be to invoke their
opinions to-day about the relations of Labour and Capital.
Two things have to be taught to the Democracy of to-day
before it is likely to fulfil what was predicted of it in 1885.
It is a Democracy of flesh and blood, and it has all that
combination of strength and weakness, of desire for pro-
gress coupled with attachment to the very traditions that
block the highway, which is shown by the numerically less
important layers of society which weigh it down. And so
it is that our leaders must teach this Democracy that they
have a message for it, a message not of mere theoretical
PEEFACE. XI
interest, but of practical import for the bettering of its con-
dition. They must convince it, too, of something more than
this before they can gain its faith. Our working people have
instincts of high-mindedness which are too often over-looked*
Their imaginations must be touched and their moral enthu-
siasm evoked. And this is only to be done by statesmen who
can come before them with clean hands, and for the sake of
their cause and not themselves. Those who have seen the
working classes most, know best how deep is their regard
for character and ethical purpose when they find these
qualities in their would-be leaders.
This second matter, vital as it is, does not come within
the scope of any book on the Labour Movement. It belongs
to the science of human nature. But the first question, how
to reach the working people with a real message, is the sub-
ject of this book. Its writer belongs to a school which is
rapidly growing, a school the leading tenet of which is that
the problem of to-day is distribution and not production*
and that better distribution requires the active intervention
of the State at every turn. The disciples of this school
believe that society is more than a mere aggregate of indi-
viduals, and see in it a living whole, which not only does
control the lives of its component parts, but must do so if
these parts are to remain healthy, and not as to some of
them develope into unnatural growths drawing unduly on
the common resources, and as to others of them wither up
and die of inanition. Such a general control they say is
natural, and while they agree that the members must have
scope for free development as individuals, they say that such
development takes place most healthily when it is kept in
consistency with the equally real life of the common whole.
They point to the success of the Factory Acts, of the Mines
and Merchant Shipping and Truck Acts, and to many other
illustrations of their principles, and they demand that this
principle shall receive in the future the more extended appli-
cation which they think its past history justifies.
xii PREFACE.
It may be that their path will prove to be beset with diffi-
culties and with dangers which they have not foreseen. No
political problem was ever adequately solved by the mere
dry light of abstract doctrine. Yet it may be that theirs is
the truth for the time, just as Free Trade was the truth for
the England of half a century since. And if this be so then
unquestionably ttie preachers of the New Gospel do well to
look neither to the right nor to the left, but to go unflinch-
ingly forward as did the great reformers of the past, at the
peril of being regarded as narrow, and with the certainty
that in course of time their own teaching will be superseded
as no longer adequate, and as inapphcable to a new set of
social demands. Not only in politics, but in religion, in
philosophy, in science, in literature, and in art have men
learned to own that this is so, and that from the ever-de-
veloping nature of truth it must be so.
Such a book as this can never do more than present the
problem as it is known, and the solution as it appears to be
known. It must of necessity be abstract in its character.
But its purpose is justified if it has stated what is ascer-
tained of the nature and purpose of the new movement, and
has exhibited it as a whole. How difficult are such legis-
lative questions as the regulation of the hours of labour, and
how crude are some of the plans which have been proposed
for dealing with them, the writer is well aware. But to say
that the questions are difficult and that none of the plans
are satisfactory is not to say that they are to be shelved.
We may be far from a state of things which many earnest
people hope for and believe in as possible. But a remark-
able movement has commenced, and these pages will have
served their purpose if they show how and why it has arisen,
and in what fashion its progress may be accelerated.
E. B. HALDANE.
THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
CHAPTER I.
THE AIMS OF LABOUR.
It is proverbially difficult to see the wood when the trees
obscure it, and the casual observer of the Labour World of
to-day is likely enough when he hears of the "Labour Move-
ment " to ask, Where is it, and what is it ? There are
scores of organisations, hundreds of societies, meetings,
processions, denunciations, programmes, leading articles,
and placards. But what unity is there? what common
principle or aim ? Above all, what result ?
■ A little inspection would reveal certain groupings of men
and organisations. If not a " movement," certain move-
ments, at any rate, would stand out in tolerably definite
outline. In Trade Unionism, for example, with its million
and a half of adherents, we have a great mass of men,
agreeing upon the whole in their aims and methods, united
in idea if not always in policy. Then there is the Co-
operative World, with its million^of members and fourteen
hundred stores and societies scattered over the length and
breadth of the land, yet united by its great wholesale
societies and its congresses. Quite distinct from these,
again, are various political and municipal organisations,
2 1
2 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
working apparently on quite different lines, yet also, as
they claim, in the interests of labour.
If we, then, group the great powers of the Labour World
after this manner, our original question becomes manage-
able, though it is not yet answered. Mutual understanding
is not yet complete as between the actual members of these
different groups, but to those who believe in the possibility
of far-reaching economic reform there is no more hopeful
sign than the growing recognition among them of a common
aim.
Time was when Trade Unionists and Co-operators looked
on one another with suspicion, while both were decried by
the partisans of State action as the Whigs of the Labour
Movement who were bent on framing a new aristocracy
within the working class. But the era of mutual suspicion
is rapidly passing away, partly because each of the move-
ments in question is emerging from its primitive limitations
and fulfilling wider and higher purposes, and partly because
along with this growth comes a better understanding of
other methods of reform.
The truth is, as I hope to show, that Trade Unionism,
Co-operation, and State and Municipal Socialism have in
essentials one and the same end to serve. Far from being
alternative or incompatible methods, each is, I believe, the
necessary supplement to the others in the fulfilment of the
common purpose, and my present object is to consider what
this purpose is and how each will help to work it out.
In a general way it is easy enough to lay down the objects
of any genuine movement of economic reform. That the
means of livelihood should be shared by all members of
society, and this in such a way that all should have a
chance, not merely of living, but of making the best of
themselves and their lives — thus much must be the desire
of every one who considers the subject. And though no
economic progress can of itself produce good family life, nor
intellectual culture, nor public spirit, yet that all of these
THE AIMS OF LABOVB. 3
may flourish certain economic conditions must be fulfilled,
and the object of industrial reform is to bring about these
conditions. On the national industry the whole of the
national life is based, and whatever powers may build up
the fair edifice of the common weal, the economic system
is responsible for the soundness of the substructure. This
soundness may be said to consist in the provision by honest
methods of the material requisites for a good and full life
for all members of the community. Probably all w^ould
recognise this as desirable, though many would deny its
possibility.
With this denial I shall deal later. Meanwhile I would
point out that controversy really begins when we attempt
to lay down the necessary prerequisites of our admitted
aim. But in all the movements which I am considering it
would be agreed that, if the economic basis of social life is
to be sound, not increased production, but a better dis-
tribution of wealth, is essential. It is true that wealth is
not an end in itself. It is true that beyond a certain point
increase of wealth does not augment happiness, but rather
tends to mar it. It is true that the acquisition of wealth,
as such, is a base end to set before a man, or a class, or a
nation. It is true that you will never satisfy your '* infinite
shoeblack " by filling his stomach. It is no less true that a
certain moderate amount of material necessaries and com-
forts are absolutely indispensable to a decent and happy
family life, and that some measure of rest from manual toil
is essential to the full development of the faculties and the
due enjoyment of life ; and it is equally undeniable that
these material necessaries and this leisure are out of the
reach of vast numbers in the wealthiest countries of the
world. I do not wish to dwell on this. We have had
enough and to spare of denunciations of economic injustice
and of pictures of social misery. Let us face the fact once
for all, and not be blinded to it by the " barren optimistic
sophistries of comfortable moles." Having faced it, let us
4 THE LABOVB MOVEMENT,
consider the remedy, and admit, once for all, that whatever
be the character of that remedy, it must fulfil this first
condition of distributing the products of industry with more
regard to the welfare of the masses than is paid by the blind
and sometimes blindly adored forces of competition.
But a better distribution of w^ealth means also a better
distribution of duties. If we are anxious that all should
eat and be filled, we should be equally determined that all
should first work. In a healthy society there are neither
idlers nor beggars ; there is no leisured class, whether of
tramps or millionaires. There can be no "Gospel of Eights"
apart from that of Duties. But this means simply that we
have to work towards a healthier state of social organisa-
tion in which each man will find his place in society and
will recognise it. The " social organism " is a perfect
organism only when its members feel that they depend on
one another. Hence no deep or lasting improvement can
come without a change in the spirit of our industrial
system. Born and bred in the most outspoken indi-
vidualist selfishness, the spirit of competitive commer-
cialism has never belied its origin. The true source of
stock-jobbing and adulteration, of filibustering adventurers
and odious traffics enforced at the sword's point, it has
made us pay heavily for such advantages as it has brought.
No mere change of machinery can undo the moral damage
it has done. Machinery — laws, administration, organisa-
tions— are after all valuable only as the lever by which the
moral forces of society can work. Mere reform of machinery
is worthless unless it is the expression of a change of spirit
and feeling. If the change from individualism to socialism
meant nothing but an alteration in the methods of organ-
ising industry, it would leave the nation no happier or
better than before. The same dishonesty, the same mean-
ness, the same selfish rapacity would simply find different
outlets. But if machinery without moral force is worthless,
good intentions without machinery are helpless. If the
THE AIMS OF LABOUR. 5
friends of justice and progress cannot come together and
frame a concerted course of action, the good they can do
is limited to their own lives. True administrative reform
consists simply in such mechanical changes as will put power
into the hands of those who will use it best ; and when it is
carried out with this intention legislative and administrative
advance is the measure of progress.
Any movement, then, that aims at far-reaching economic
reform must, so far as its effects extend, be introducing a
new spirit into industry — a feeling for the common good,
a readiness to forego personal advantage for the general
gain, a recognition of mutual dependence. It must also
provide the machinery by which the new spirit can make
its mark upon the economic world, and its tendency must
be to equalise the rights and duties of mankind.
Now, taking the movements I have named — Trade
Unionism, Co-operation, and State and Municipal Social-
ism— how far does each of these fulfil the above conditions ?
What are they respectively doing at the present day ? and —
considering that each movement is rapidly growing — what
is their tendency ? what would they achieve supposing their
full development attained? Finally, are they working to-
gether or against one another ? Is there (in addition to the
general ends above sketched) any common principle on
which they work ? The following chapters will attempt to
give in outline the answer to these questions.
CHAPTEE II.
TBADE UNIONISM AND THE CONTBOL OF
PBODUCTION.
If we accept the general definition of " industrial health "
just given, the first problem that will occur to us is that of
providing suitable conditions of work and adequate remu-
neration for the worker. Now, we find a vigorous and
growing effort to secure these ends in Trade Unionism, a
movement which is no longer confined to the " Aristocracy
of Labour," but which embraces workers of every grade.
Trade Unionism represents the attempt of the body of pro-
ducers to regulate industry in their own interests as a body
— not the effort of each man to shape the course of trade in
the way which best suits himself, but the effort of the united
body of workers to arrange the conditions of industry in the
way which best suits them all. The Trade Union is, in fact,
the association of workers in a given locality or in a given
occupation formed with the purpose of regulating the con-
ditions of labour in that locality or occupation. It endea-
vours, with varying success in different cases, to fix a
minimum wage, to define the hours of work suitable to the
occupation, and in general to insist on those conditions of
employment the universal observance of which is necessary
to the health, comfort, and efficiency of the whole body of
workers. Such an effort is, of course, liable to errors both
of ends and of means. As long as the Trade Union repre-
6
TBADE UNIONISM, 7
sents a small section of the community, it may endeavour
to establish for itself a monopoly at the expense of the
wider public* Everything human is liable to corruption,
but if we are to push the possibility of corruption as an
argument against Trade Unionism, we must be consistent
and apply the same reasoning to other institutions as well,
and it would be difficult to see how such primary social
necessities as the maintenance of a political governmeat
would escape condemnation. It is more important to in-
quire what are the main beneficial functions which Trade
Unionism can serve in assisting the organisation of industry.
What is the movement actually doing ? what can it legiti-
mately aim at ? can it achieve the whole of its aim ? and
what are its inherent limitations ?
Eegarding Trade Unionism from our present point of
view as part of a wider movement, its function in that
movement is clear. It has the foundation work to do.
The workers themselves are the persons immediately
affected by the conditions and remuneration of labour, and
to the organised body of workers we look accordingly for
the due regulation of these fundamental factors of social
health.
There are indeed some conditions of labour of too great
importance to be left to any voluntary associations. I
mean such as gravely affect the health and safety of the
worker. These, as I shall argue later, are, like the main-
tenance of the Queen's peace, matters of the first necessity,
which must accordingly be regulated by law. In these
matters the function of the Trade Union where it exists is
mainly to give utterance to the wishes of the workers,
to collect information and initiate legislation, and to aid
the enforcement of the law when it is once on the Statute
Book. But unfortunately the unhealthiest occupations at
* Instances of success in such a policy would be found rather among
old-established Unions in learned professions like the Bar than in the
more modern combinations of manual labour.
8 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
the present day are just there in which Unionism is
weakest. Hence it is on outside opinion that we have
mainly to rely in the work of removing the darkest blots
from our industrial life.
In their actual work at the present day Trade Unions are
mainly concerned with the hours of work and its remunera-
tion. Their avowed object is to obtain a " fair day's pay
for a fair day's work," and that for all workers. But these
are terms that require some definition. As to the " fair
day's work " it is becoming pretty clearly defined for most
trades as an " eight-hours day " — eight hours being a time
for which an average man can work at an average employ-
ment without exhausting himself and without finding
himself deprived of all leisure and energy for interesting
himself in a wider life outside his work.
But what is a " fair " wage? This is not quite so easy
to determine on any logical and consistent principle. The
phrase indeed is used in every trade dispute that arises,
but if a precise definition could be attached to it probably
there would be fewer disputes than there are. I am not
bold enough to attempt such a definition. I wish only to
offer a few considerations, all of which may be, and perhaps
in part are, taken into account by employers and employed
at the present day, and might be more fully acted on by a
more developed industrial organisation. In asking what
wages are fair, I shall mean by " fair wages " the amount
we should fix if we had the fixing in our power, in other
words, I shall inquire how a well-ordered society would fix
the rate of wages if it had the whole distribution of wealth
under its control.
At present the appeal lies generally to the custom of the
trade, or if that is definitely rejected as giving a rate of
wage that is " too " high, or lower than is " fair," the rate
prevaihng in other trades may be looked to. Or, again,
Buch a rate may be thought fair as would leave what is
regarded as an average rate of profit to the employer — a
TBADE UNIONISM. 9
view which may be held to justify a sliding- scale. But
especially since the advent of Unskilled Labour in the
arena of industrial warfare there has been a tendency to
refer to the amount on which a man can live as a standard
minimum for a fair wage. It is in vain that the GalUos
of the middle class reply that they '' do not see the
necessity " that these poor creatures should live. Like De
Quincey's butcher, the poor creatures concerned show a
determination to live which is " almost bloodthirsty " and
doubtless most unreasonable, but nevertheless, when it finds
organised expression, very effective. And looking at the
matter from the point of view of the welfare of society as a
whole the determination is perfectly justifiable. What ulti-
mately is the meaning of "fair" or '' reasonable? " By the
agreement of philosophers of most opposite schools these
words mean " that which is good for society" in one form or
another. Nothing is fair, nothing reasonable which tends to
cramp the hfe and diminish the happiness of society as a whole.
Everything is fair and everything reasonable which, when
all its effects are considered, tends to further social develop-
ment and augment the happiness of men. Now I ask, is it
for the good of society that a large portion of it, say a third,
should be unable to provide themselves adequately with the
mere material necessaries of life ? Is it well for the millions
primarily concerned ? Is it well for the moral health of the
remainder who allow this to go on ? Or is it not rather the
first and greatest of all blots on the fair face of civilised
humanity to be removed at all hazards and at any sacrifice ?
I find myself, then, in full agreement with those who hold
that the first condition which a " fair " wage must fulfil is
that it should provide the worker with the means of living
a civiUsed existence. It is needless to remark that the
" fair" wage must be earned by " fair " work, but it may
be noted that with the progress of the organisation of
industry it will become increasingly easy to penalise
idleness whether picturesque and luxurious, or squalid and
10 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
hungry. At present it is always difficult to tell whether a
man could get work if he tried. In proportion as it becomes
easier for the industrious man to find his proper place and
to obtain fitting reward it becomes less difficult to enforce
work and punish idleness without compunction. All that
I say, then, of the standard of remuneration must be taken
as applying to those who do work, and work to the standard
required by their foremen or other managers, under limits
laid down by their Trade Union.
It will be said that the conception of a certain standard of
living or comfort as determining the fair wage does not help
us much since the standard itself is continually fluctuating.
That is true, and there must be an element of indefiniteness
which no abstract reasoning can eliminate, but which can only
be handled by common sense, treating each particular case
on its merits. Yet there are certain necessaries a;nd comforts
which can be specified that it is eminently desirable to place
within the reach of all, and some of which are out of the
reach of the majority in England at the present day. Such are
sufficient food and clothing, house-room enough for cleanli-
ness and decency, adequate medical attendance and nursing
in sickness, the postponement of work in childhood till such
education can be given as fits a man to be an active citizen,
and sufficient leisure both for study and amusement in adult
life. To these must be added a provision of great importance
for childhood. I mean that the mother's care should not be
diverted from the nursing and home education of her children
by the need of contributing to their maintenance. Every
career should be open to women without reserve, but it
should be made unnecessary that any married woman
should occupy her time in bread-winning at the expense of
the all-important duties of the home. The " fair " wage,
then, should be such as to enable a single bread-winner to
support a whole family after the fashion I have described.
In all this I have been speaking of the minimum-wage —
the first charge on the produce of industry, and my con-
TBADE UNIONISM. 11
tention is that it should be regulated primarily by the con-
sideration of the possibilities of living. In actual wages
other considerations of course enter. The most important
of these perhaps are skill, effort, and unpleasantness of
occupation. All these do enter into the rate of remunera-
tion. How far sJiould they do so ? This question is bound
to rise into importance with the growth of Trade Unionism,
and few problems are more difficult to determine by any
theoretical considerations. Let us, however, bear in mind,
that whatever remuneration is just is so because it is for
the common good that it is awarded. From this point of
view it is clear that remuneration should in some degree
depend on effort. I do not mean that competition should
be reintroduced in the form of piece-work, or that any
encouragement whatever should be given to over-exertion ;
but that a certain standard of assiduity and of length of
work should be exacted as is done at present by the over-
seers of every branch of production, with this difference only,
that the Trade Union of the producers affected should have
a voice in the fixing of the standard. By this means society
can call forth the requisite effort on its behalf without
mischief to the most important part of its wealth, the
health of its workers. Similar considerations determine
the treatment of specially unpleasant or unhealthy occupa-
tions. In these, due regard for the common good as bound
up with the good of the employed, would lead to such a reduc-
tion of hours as would leave plenty of time to recuperate.
I do not think we shall in any case long continue to allov\^
men to be kept ten or twelve hours in chemical works,
where even breathing is a danger.
Turning next to the wages of skill (under which I
include bro.in pov;er), from the ' individualist point of
view, it seems highly desirable that a man's earnings
should be proportional to the value of his product. But
such an apportionment may be quite incompatible with
the virtue and happiness of society. Regarding only
12 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
these last considerations, would a well-directed industrial
system assign a special reward to high skill? So far as
skill is attained by effort, and so far as the requisite effort
could only be called forth by direct pay, it would be
worth while to pay for it. But what of native or original
talent? The best and highest of such talents never yet
have been paid for, and perhaps they work better without
pay. The attempt to reward genius more often succeeds
in vulgarising it. The same holds in some degree of the
lesser abilities of inventors, and of the captains of industry.
The profits attending success tend to divert their attention
to profit-making courses. They make inventions or organise
arrangements that will pay, not considering their effect
upon society. A man is as eager to invent a new bomb as to
construct an improved plough. And possibly we should have
less misplaced ingenuity if the credit of the thing were its
chief reward. But to push this principle to its logical con-
clusion would perhaps be Utopian. There are three reasons
for assigning a special reward to skill and brain power.
First, it is often practically impossible to distinguish native
talent from the results of past effort, and a large proportion
of men will therefore neither acquire nor use skill except for
a reward. Secondly, it is better to be liberal than niggardly.
Men work best on the whole for those who best mark their
appreciation of services done by adequate reward, and
though many a poet of the first order is and has to be con-
tent with less pay than a literary hack — " What porridge
had John Keats ? " — perhaps this is too much to be expected
of the mass of able men. Lastly, within certain limits the
brainworker requires more comforts and more rest than the
manual-worker. He is a more delicate machine, requiring
more care, and wearing out more easily. Skill therefore in
every form should be liberally rewarded. Only let it be
understood that, as a matter of social exigency, its extra
reward ranks far below the necessity of providing a minimum
for all workers.
TBADE UNIONISM, 13
A more difficult question arises as to the opposite of skill
— incompetency. At the present day we have a number
of sinecures, rents, annuities, charities, endowments, work-
houses, gaols, and other admirable arrangements to keep
the incompetent from starvation. If society were able to
control industry and wealth for the good of its own
members as a whole, I imagine that the only differences
in this respect would bo two. First, it would be only
the incompetent and not also the idle who would be
allowed thus to live on the surplus products of other
men's industry. Idleness would be regarded as a social
pest, to be stamped out like crime. Secondly, the mis-
cellaneous selection of the incompetent for suitable pro-
vision at present effected by birth, fortune, favouritism,
intrigue, quackery, and other means, would be superseded
by a more scientific adjustment. All who could work
would have to work, and those who, after adequate effort,
proved incompetent to earn by their work the minimum of
a decent livelihood, would have to be treated as a particular
class of the infirm. As much as they could do being sternly
demanded of them, the common purse must bear the deficit.
Nor is this bad economy. To begin with, the burden would
not be BO great as that which broad-shouldered England
bears to-day. We should have no idlers, let us hope, and
none of the incompetent would be kept in luxury. Secondly,
incompetence is not a constant factor in society. Two
things increase it — luxury and starvation, both for moral
and physiological reasons. Keep all the incompetent in
comfort without luxury as the reward of the best work they
can do, and you make the best possible arrangements for
improving them off the face of the earth. I conclude, then,
that a fair reward of labour should not be directly propor-
tioned to skill, nor even to effort ; that the best social
arrangements would fix a minimum to be paid even to those
unable to fully earn it; and that while an increase of
remuneration for pure skill is necessary, and within limits
14 THE LABOUB MOVEMENT.
desirable, this is, on the rule of justice as laid down
by social utility, a secondary consideration as compared
with the necessity of providing a sufficiency for all, to be
attended to when this greater need is satisfied. The
primary economic need in the matter of Distribution is the
fixing of a sufficient minimum remuneration and a reason-
able maximum of hours for all workers in company with
the enforcement of the rule that all who can work must
work. Secondary to that is the due apportionment of
additional remuneration for additional effort and special
skill. To raise the wages of all workers to such a rate
as will, without involving the exhaustion of the worker,
provide the material means of a happy family life for
all, is then, to us, the first object, and if it is difficult
to say what this rate is, it is easy to say what it is not.
It is not the wage paid to agricultural labour throughout
the greater part of England. It is not the rate paid to
unskilled labourers in towns. It is questionable whether
the majority of clerks and skilled artisans may be said to
reach it. Wherever we di'aw the line it is clear that an
enormous amount of levelling up remains to be done.*
Now the main object of Trade Unionism is to enforce this
minimum standard of comfort for all workers. This duty
falls naturally upon it as the organisation of those primarily
concerned, and up to this point, at least, it works for what
we have seen to be the highest interests of society as a whole.
Can Trade Unionism achieve this object either as an in-
dependent movement, or as part of a wider movement?
Can it do anything to secure for more and more workers
a nearer approach to the ideal of a fair day's work for a fair
day's wage as above defined?
To answer this question it is not enough to point out that
in general wages have risen where Unions are strong, as
* In London, according to Mr. Charles Booth, 18s. to 21s. per week
may be said to afford a bare sufficiency; and the classes which are either
in want or would be " better for more of everything " amount to 32 per
cent, of the population ("Life and Labour of the People," vol. i. pp. 'd'6 U.
and 131, vol. ii. p. 24, &c.).
TRADE UNIONISM. 15
compared with places or industries in whicli they are weak.
Nor is it enough to show that the period in which Unions
have grown has witnessed a great improvement in the whole
economic condition of the classes which have formed them.
A more promising course is to point to instances in which
the Unions have actually agitated or fought for advantages
with success. It would be easy enough to pile up lists of
successes from all epochs of Trade Unionism, and from
every kind of trade. In the "Nine Hours Movement" of
twenty years ago as in the advanced skirmishes of the
" Eight Hours " battle to-day; '*' in the success of the Miners'
Federation, first, in raising wages from 30 to 40 per cent.,
and then in resisting the reduction which has befallen
the non-federated districts ; in the famous Docker's Tanner,
and in the reduction of hours from twelve to eight effected
at a stroke by the Gas workers Union, we see the power
of combination at work, on hours and wages, in skilled
trades and unskilled, in the past and in the present, in
town and in country,! sometimes moving swiftly, some-
times checked, but on the whole making its way, and main-
taining the ground that it wins. And we cannot count by
victories alone. Though the Union may be defeated the
fight may be justified by results. | A brave people may be
* Written in 1892. The lock-out of 1893 ended in the acceptance of a
10 per cent, reduction instead of the 25 per cent, demanded, and in the
establishment of the principle of a minimum wage.
t While they last, Unions of Agricultural Labourers seem to be as
effective as any others in securing improved conditions. But the diffi-
culties in the way of maintaining them are such that it is doubtful
whether they have much part to play in the permanent improvement
of village life.
I For this reason comparative statistics of successes, partial successes
and failures of labour disputes give an imperfect measure of the value
of Trade Unionism. Disputes, it must be remembered, are the failures
of Trade Unionism, and are but partially redeemed by victory. That is
to say, it is the business of Trade Union organisation to secure reason-
able advantages without fighting, and its real success lies in this direction.
On the whole question of the historical test of the success or failure of
the movement much evidence has been made generally available since
1892; yet at the end of their scholarly and elaborate history of the
16 THE L ABOVE MOVEMENT.
beaten, but cannot be trampled on and enslaved. So, to
put it in the concrete, an Union may fight a reduction of
10 per cent, and lose ; but the stubbornness of the battle
may stop further reductions which would have stripped
unorganised workmen of 20, 30, or 40 per cent. Both sides
know this, and hence the seemingly narrow issues on which
long and stubborn disputes are often fought.
But mere figures give a very imperfect idea of the
effectiveness of Unionism. Just as the best-armed nation
does not get involved in war, so the best-drilled, most
effective union does not fight because it has no need. It
is by the steady pressure of organised opinion, by the
delicate tact of skilled negotiators, by the quietly effective
ways about which newspapers are silent, that the best
work is done. But when we take this quiet and gradual
work into account, no one can tell by any comparison
of figures what the effect of Unionism on wages and
hours has been, because no one knows what wages and
hours would have been to-day but for the Unions. It is
not enough to compare the state of non-Union trades,
for they too have benefited indirectly by the organisation
of the others. The mere dread of combination is itself
a force, and the employer knows that a sufficient margin
of loss teaches the lesson of combination even to the stupid
and faint-hearted.
And on the other side many opponents of Unionism
would say, ''It is easy enough to count up these nominal
victories, but are the workers as a whole permanently bene-
fited ? Are there not often hidden losses counterbalancing
apparent gains?" These doubts rest mainly on a dis-
movement, Mr. and Mrs. Webb write : — " To sum up the economic effects
of Trade Unionism, we should have minutely to examine, not only the
recorded facts as to movements of wages and hours, but also the more
subtle consequences upon industrial organisation, the accumulation of
capital, and the quantity and quality of commercial brain power," &c.
("History of Trade Unionism," p. 474). The final verdict of the writers
in their forthcoming volumes will be awaited with interest. In the mean-
time we are thrown back on such general considerations as are offered
below (p. 17 ff.)
TBADE UNIONISM, .17
belief in the inherent power of a Trade Union to accom-
plish anything. From the nature of the case they can
hardly be answered by references and statistics, since they
suggest that the gains we see are balanced by hidden losses
that we know not of. Let us, then, consider how Trade
Unionism works ? What is the nature of the help it gives
the worker ? In this way I think we shall be able to see
how far the above objections have any force.
The isolated worker in bargaining with the employer is
almost always at a considerable disadvantage. If he
refuses work there are almost always others who will do it.
He cannot afford to wait, for he has no reserve to fall back
upon. He is like a housewife going to a crowded market
with only five minutes in which to make many important
purchases. She will have to take the first thing that comes,
without pausing to look round for a better bargain. And
this has more force the lower we go in the scale. The
poorer the workman is, the less he can afford to wait, and
the more unskilled his occupation, the greater the crowd
of competitors for it. Competition of course may be the
other way. The " worker " may himself be sought after.
There is a continuous gradation from the great lawyer or
doctor who can choose his own fee, and, whatever price
he names, will be beset by " employers," down through the
mass of professional men and artizans who will wait a bit
rather than take a second-rate place, to the crowd of
''casuals" who throng round you at a railway station to
carry your bag for a copper. The point is, that the further
we get below the point of which we spoke above, which we
may call the minimum of comfort, the keener the competi-
tion, and the worse the position of theworker for bargaining.
And his sole source of strength is in union. The Union to
him is the machinery by which he bargains. If I have a
house to sell I employ an agent because I think him likely
to obtain better terms than I could do unaided. In all
important transactions, when I have no special skill of my
8
18 THE LABOUB MOVEMENT.
own, I employ such machinery and such agents as are
specially adapted for the work. So the labourer has his
work to sell. He cannot sell it advantageously unless he
comes to terms with others who have the same commodity
to dispose of. Nor does he know the market. Accordingly
he forms an union that all sellers of labour may act in con-
cert, and chooses as officials the best experts he can find,
appoints them to watch the market for him, and pays them
for their advice as to his dealings. In these ways the
labourer puts himself on an equality with his employer, the
employer being already, as Prof. Marshall has pointed out,
an absolutely rigid combination to the extent of the number
of workers he employs, and being also as a rule well versed
in the conditions of the market and the general business of
bargaining.
Now, prima facie, we should assume that if a man is a
good bargainer he is likely to be better off through life than
a bad one. But we are told by economists that wages, being
the price of labour, will tend like all other prices to an
equilibrium point. This point is fixed, primarily and for
short periods, by two things — (a) The demand for labour,
i.e., the amount of money employers are ready to spend on
hiring labour ; and (b) the supply, i.e., the number of
labourers seeking employment at the price employers are
willing to pay. To the point so fixed, wages will always be
tending slowly or quickly. They may never reach it or rest
at it, but they oscillate about it as a pendulum swings about
the vertical line. Well, let it be granted that in any market
prices are all tending to an equilibrium. That will not alter
the fact that the least skilled purchasers in that market
Vvdll get the least for their money, and if there is one class
of purchasers less skilled on the average than another, that
class on an average will come off worse. Prices will, if you
please ultimately tend to the equilibrium point. Meanwhile
the inferior marketers will have bought at the high price, or
let goods go at the lower. Here they will hasten to pur-
TBADE UNIONISM, 19
chase when they might have waited for a fall. There they
will wait for a fall while the market is in fact rising. We
need hardly labour this point. No one will deny that
a good housewife makes a shilling go further than a bad
one, and no one can reverse his judgment when it is a
question of a class instead of an individual.
Let it be granted, then, that wages tend of themselves to
an equilibrium, and let it be for the moment supposed that
no deliberate action can affect this equilibrium, still, the
worker who can bargain well will get the advantages of
every turn in the market. It takes perhaps twenty or
thirty years for an expansion of demand for lab®ur resulting
from some new commercial development to work itself out
unaided on the rate of wages. Let us concede (we shall
see reason subsequently for withdrawing the concession)
that no Trade Union action can affect the rate which wages
will arrive at by the end of that time. Yet meanwhile the
market might admit all along of the higher rate. The
pressure of tendency will not make itself felt for years if the
party which stands to win is not in a position to make use
of his advantages. A little patience in looking round the
market and I might get just the joint I want a penny a
pound cheaper. There is a tendency to that price against
which the butchers cannot hold out much longer. But if
I am not aware of the fact and have not the patience I
shall pay the extra penny. So with wages. There may be
sufficient ''buoyancy" in the labour market to admit of a
rise years before it takes place if the labourers are neither
strong nor farsighted. Now if there were any tendency in
bargaining to right itself this would not much matter. If
the very fact that I am underpaid to day set some law
of justice or economic harmony into operation which
would overpay me to-morrow, we should cry quits all
round and leave the market to take care of itself. But
since such harmonies figure only in the Mythology of
Early Nineteenth-century Science, it will be readily seen
20 THE LABOTJB MOVEMENT.
that to be permanently the weaker in a series of bargains
is likely to impoverish you in the long run. If, then, a
Trade Union could do no more than merely " anticipate a
rise, or delay a fall," and if it did this permanently and con-
tinually its existence would be abundantly justified — its
effect on the average rate of wages would be a very real one.
And there is no need at this stage to suppose that the Union
gets the better of the bargain, or that it makes "economic fric-
tion" work on the side of the employed against the employer.
We need not, that is to say, suppose that by combination
the worker will get a larger share of the produce than he
would as an isolated worker who should he on perfectly equal
terms, as to acuteness, power of waiting, and the like, with
his employer. Nor need we therefore hold that the rate
of profit would be lower than it would be under such a
system of perfectly free and equal competition. It is quite
enough for the Union to prove that it raises wages to the
point obtainable by such competition between equals. The
fact is that the Trade Union suppresses free competition in
one sense, but institutes it for the first time in another. It
abolishes the unrestricted competition of isolated individuals
against one another which places all at the mercy of the
employer, and substitutes for it a combination of men bar-
gaining for employment on free and equal terms.
So far we have dealt only with the effect of combination
on the temporary fluctuations of the Labour Market.
Considering the Union as the only effective mechanism of
bargaining available for the labourer, we have seen that it
enables him to take advantage of the various fluctuations
of demand instead of allowing these to take advantage of
him. Unionism finds the Labour World in the state of a
market where skilful dealers are selling to ignorant customers
at enormous profits. And just as such a market is revolu-
tionised when the customers become educated and acquire
knowledge of goods and their prices, so the old methods
of selliDg the commodity of Labour are all upset by com-
TBADE UNIONISM. 21
bination. In all this we have assumed with the economists
that there is a normal price to which wages tend to return,
however violently they may be raised or lowered for a time,
and that the Union can have no influence in fixing that
price. But the assumption is not accurate because Labour,
though a marketable commodity, is not quite like other
marketable commodities.
If the price of coals falls and I get them 2s. or 3s. a ton
cheaper, the coals are just as good as they were before and
perform their function just as well. But if labour falls, say,
in an agricultural district, from 12s. to 10s. per week, the
labourer does not do his work so well. The labourer's
capacity for work — an economic factor of enormous impor-
tance on which the present commercial position of the
nations of the world may be truly said to rest — varies
directly up to a certain maximum with the remuneration
of his work. Send a man out underfed and scantily clothed
to his wintry toil in the frozen farmyard, and bid him return
at night to an unwholesome, dirty, draughty cottage, and
as the months go by his mental and physical strength are
drained. He becomes spoiled goods, and at last has to be
thrown away — into the workhouse. Meanwhile his chil-
dren are growing up under similar conditions, kept merci-
lessly alive for a battle they are not fit to fight.
When we get below the minimum of comfort the price of
labour has an immediate and cumulative effect upon its
efficiency. The further we go below the minimum the
more important is this effect — until we reach starvation point.
Hence it is clear that anything which affects the reward of
Labour for a short period tends to increase its efficiency
beyond that period. And the " short period " may be
very short. If I take a half-starved tramp off the road and
put him to work in my garden, in return for food, clothes,
and shelter, for a week, I shall lose on the transaction. If I
keep him a second week he will be capable of twice as much
work, and I may be the gainer. This is an extreme case.
2i THE LABOUIi MOVEMENT.
But on a wider scale, with more far-reaching effects, though
in a lesser degree, every increase in wages that are still
below the minimum of comfort tends in the same direction.
Now it is easy to understand that the efficiency of Labour
reacts on wages ; for it increases the total produce of the
country, and with it, though in a lesser degree, the share
that falls to the labourer.* Granting then that Trade
Unionism raises the price of Labour for short periods by
enabling it to take advantage of every turn of the market,
it follows that it tends to make a permanent improvement
in the condition of the labourer by the best of all methods,
the improvement of the labourer himself.
What effect must this rise in wages have upon profits ?
This question is forced upon us not only by general
economic considerations, but by the patent fact that in
many of the worst paid trades the employers, or some of
them, find it difficult to keep their heads above water ; and
in some cases, as in some of the so-called *' sweating " dens
of East London, the employer is actually worse off than his
half-starved underlings. At first sight this is a paradox. If in
the Labour market, and especially in the unskilled Labour
market, the advantage in bargaining is almost without excep-
tion on one side, profits should be high, and they should be
highest where wages are lowest. As it turns out the case is
often the other way. The general discussion of this ques-
tion is a matter for the political economist. It concerns us
at present only as raising the question how the employer
can afford to raise wages. Must not profits suffer, and will
not Capital leave the country ?
An increase of wages acts upon profit mainly by affecting
• The total produce of the country is really the source of demand —
you cannot effectively demand labour, whether of employer or em-
ployed, until you have the wherewithal to pay for it. How much you
demand therefore depends on how much you have. Hence, as econo-
mists have shown, the total national dividend is the source of demand
for further labour. Hence an increase of production stimulates demand
and tends thus to raise the equilibrium wage.
TBADE UNIONISM. 23
the cost of producing goods for the market. But how an
increase of wages will affect cost in any case, and how a
change in cost of production will affect profits, is very un-
certain. If the higher wage increases the efficiency of the
worker,* cost of production will remain the same, or even
fall. Again, a rise of wages may or rather must stimulate
demand for goods which workmen consume — in particular
for such as they purchase when " times are good," and go
without when things are slack. In these departments in-
creased demand may revolutionise a trade by introducing
production on the large scale — a change which, if successful,
will greatly lower cost and yet allow of higher wages for
the worker. Similar results follow if the rise of wages
stimulates the employer to better methods. The first cock-
crow sets the whole roost going, and the first awakening in a
slumberous business calls forth corresponding activities on
all sides, with good results to all parties. Nevertheless, there
may be cases in which the increased cost of manual labour
does raise the price at which a commodity can be sold with
profit. If we are to believe the reports of many of our princi-
pal railway companies the agitator t has by this means
largely increased net expenses of many of them in the last few
years. Supposing cost of production to be thus increased,
what will happen ? It is held by some economists that the
process will be self-defeating. Capital will leave the country
and wages will fall. That this may be the result in ex-
treme cases, and even has been the result in some insta^nces,
it would be rash to deny ; though we may remark, foUow-
* I neglect the case where one class of workers get increased wages at
the expense of another class. As I am considering the case of a general
rise for manual workers, such " compensation " could only be at the ex-
pense of wages of management or of interest — i.e., it must fall on the
employer or on the capitalist.
f The "agitator" is not infrequently attacked almost in the same
breath (a) for ruining the employer by causing him to pay higher wages,
and (6) for humbugging the workman into thinking that he can get
wages raised. But this must be one of the "inner contradictions" of
Capital spoken of by Karl Marx.
24 THE LABOXJB MOVEMENT.
ing good authority, that it has more probably come about,
if at ail, from injudicious disputes * than from simple in-
crease of cost. The truth is that it is not very easy for Capital
to leave the country. There is much Capital that cannot leave
the country at all. You cannot summon a Genie of the
Lamp to take up the North-Western Eailway and deposit
it in China. And it would not pay if you could. In most
cases the process is one which requires a certain tolerably
clear margin of advantage to induce it. To the extent of
this margin these profits may be reduced without risk of
loss by emigration of Capital. Nor is this all. The Labour
movement of to-day is not confined to the British Isles. It
is cosmopolitan. The leading country in such a movement
is always held back to some extent by the laggards in the
rear, but at the same time and w-ith an equal force she is
pulling them forward. The movement in each nation helps the
progress of the whole. This has always been so. You cannot
move your foot without displacing the centre of gravity of
the world. Nor can you act for good or evil in one country
of the Western world without affecting the balance of forces
throughout the rest. But if the correlation of cause and
eflect has always worked without our knowledge of it, it
becomes much closer and more direct when men are aware
of it, and deliberately set it in motion. That the feeling
of a wider brotherhood is dawning on the leaders of the
Labour movement — the working classes of this island — was
nobly proved by the warm and generous help given to the
German printers in the struggle of 1891. It has been perti-
nently asked where was the British capitalist in that dis-
pute. He has told us often enough that the cheapness of
foreign labour is the one obstacle to better conditions for
* Trade disputes are in themselves an evil to be deplored, but they
may be the lesser of two evils. In -any case the common capitalist
invectives against them, on the ground that they "drive away trade,"
are rather double-edged. It takes two to pick a quarrel. The doctrine
of " non-resistance " — of passive acquiescence in every demand — must
be preached to both sides if at all.
TBADE UNIONISM. 25
English workmen. Then he had his opportunity. His
gold would have won the battle for the German workman
and given an impulse to the whole Labour movement on the
Continent. Then was the moment to prove his sincerity.
But the opportunity was not taken.
Let us concede then that in raising herself England is
raising the world with her. The effort is the greater, but the
prize the more glorious. At worst the check is one that only
operates in certain cases, and even so allows a wide margin.
Meanwhile, notice a concurrent effect of the improvement in
the labourer's condition — the disappearance not of Capital
from the country, but of the weaker employer from the field of
competition. When wages are low and men's time may be
had for the asking, it becomes easier to work a business of a
certain kind with profit. Men of moderate or inferior abilities
are tempted to one of the most difficult of games — the
management of a modern business concern — by the ease with
which the pawns are moved. There are hosts of businesses
struggling on with no profit to worker, manager, or con-
sumer, and which are much better put out of their misery.
The natural refuge of these weak business concerns is the
weak and underpaid workman, and accordingly, competition
— though continually eliminating them — does not even so do
its work fast enough. The fixing of a minimum wage
destroys employment of this kind, to the great ultimate
gain of all classes.
I conclude that the argument from the "self-defeating"
process is substantially unsound and unimportant. A rise of
wages has a diverse effect in different cases ; but — to sum up
the discussion — low wages save for the moment, but are un-
economical in the long run. Hence they are the refuge of the
weak employer, who lives from hand to mouth. Eaise the rate
and you eliminate this class of managers and bring grist to
the mill of the stronger men, who can pay the higher rate
and make as good a profit as before.
But on the whole subject of the effect on trade of the
26 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
Unions, and the improved conditions for the worker which,
directly or indirectly, they have brought about, no one is
better entitled to a hearing than Mr. Mather, M.P. : —
" We employers owe more than, as a body, we are inclined
to admit to the improvements in our methods of manu-
facture, due to the firmness and independence of trade com-
binations. Our industrial steadiness and enterprise are the
envy of the world. The energy and pertinacity of Trade
Unions have caused Acts of Parliament to be passed which
would not otherwise have been promoted by employers or
politicians, all of which have tended to improve British com-
merce. And it is worthy of note that this improvement
has gone on concurrently with great and growing competi-
tion of other nations, owing to the development of their own
resources. The enormous production of wealth in Great
Britain during the present half-century, which is due to
natural resources and the labour and skill bestowed upon
their development, has grown most rapidly during a period
remarkable for the extension of the power of Trade Unionism.
Prosperity beyond the dreams of avarice has followed in the
wake of our industrial habits and customs, and these have
undoubtedly been largely promoted by the great labour
organisations. . . . Everyintelligent employer will admit that
his factory or workshop, when equipped with all the comforts
and conveniences and protective appliances prescribed by
Parliament for the benefit and protection of his workpeople
— though great effort, and, it may be, even sacrifice, on his
part has been made to procure them — has become a more
valuable property in every sense of the word, and a profit has
accrued to him owing to the iiri proved conditions under which
his workpeople have produced. . . ." And speaking of the im-
portance of permanence and stability in a trade, he adds : —
** The keen interest they feel in seeking to secure permanence
and progress in the trade they pursue has been strikingly
shown by the fact that Trade Unions have agreed to reduc-
tions of wages, advocated short time, and offered many
TBADE UNIONISM, 27
suggestions involving sacrifice on the part of the workers, in
order to stem the tide of temporary adversity."*
Perhaps a majority of employers might be quoted in an
opposite sense, but when Saul also is among the prophets
he is worth a thousand voices on the other side.
So far we have studied Trade Unionism as it actually works.
We have seen that it regulates the conditions of employment in
the interests of all the workers. It puts the manual labourer
on an equality with his employer in arranging terms, and
accordingly it raises wages and diminishes hours of work.
It effects general economy by eliminating incapable em-
ployers, and by raising the standard of comfort among work-
men it is not only a direct benefit to them, but, by making
them more efficient agents in production promotes the
general health of the national industry.
If now we ask what hope there is that Trade Unionism
may succeed in estabhshing what I have called the minimum
of comfort for all workers, we shall recognise by far the
greatest and most palpable obstacle in the present weakness
of Trade Unionism itself. The competition of non-union
men, and the mistaken policy and narrow interests of some
of the Unions themselves, keep the movement back far more
than any inherent weakness in the principle of Unionism.
These obstacles are, however, being gradually overcome by
the spread of moral and economic education among workmen,
and by the consolidation and federation of Unions. The
federal principle has the special merit of overcoming sec-
tional antagonisms and the tendency to a narrow corporate
spirit. The larger Unions are in a position to choose abler
men to administer their affairs. They are not wont to pre-
cipitate expensive disputes, and they command the respect
which is necessary as a basis of negotiation ; and as different
trades act together it becomes increasingly difiicult to deal
with them by bringing in outside labour instead of by an open
* Article on •' Labour and the Hours of Labour," in the Contemj^orary
Review for November, 1892.
28 THE LABOUE MOVEMENT.
and honourable discussion of difficulties. The first step
then for Trade Unionism is to extend and perfect itself as a
moral, educational, and economic movement. These three
aspects of it are in practice inseparable, and the main
immediate hindrance to its achievement of its true ends is
the imperfection of its own internal development — an imper-
fection which its leaders are making every effort to over-
come.
The tendencies set on foot by Trade Unionism itself will
help it whenever wages are below the minimum on which
the worker can best develop his powers. I mean the
economic advantages already explained of raising wages to
this minimum. If the Unions were fighting against a con-
tinual and ever-increasing economic pressure, one might
doubt the permanence of their success. But to a certain
point their work gets easier as it goes on. The second
advance is sometimes more easily won than the first. This
holds just as long as wages remain below the minimum of
comfort. Up to that point at least a rise of wages really
pays in the long run.
Lastly, we have been assuming all along that the Union
has to fight the employers and the public at every step.
This would once have been practically true, but it is true no
longer. Even as regards private concerns the education
both of Unionists and of their employers has improved of
late years, and the employer has come to see that it " pays "
in the long run, not only from the humanitarian, but from
the business point of view, to employ Union men on Union
conditions. Still more fundamental is the change in public
feeling. The growing inclination of public bodies and co-
operative societies to pay Union rates marks a new era in
the history of Unionism. It is the beginning of a definite
system of fixing wages by the moral sense of the com-
munity. The rate on which the Unions, the ratepayers,
and the best employers agree has moral as well as economic
forces at its back, which the inferior employer cannot long
TBADE UNIONISM. 29
resist. As to the justice and desirability of backing the
Union, no one who holds the diffusion of the means of the
elementary comforts to be the first object of an industrial
system can have any possible doubt.
But it is not only direct help that the Unions require.
Admirably as they fulfil the elementary functions of the
organisation of industry, there are limits to their work.
Let us now consider these, and inquire what further organisa-
tions are necessary to get over them and to supplement the
efforts of Trade Unionism and complete its work.
When manual labour is cheaper than machinery, under a
system of free competition manual labour will be employed.
Conversely, if by any chance machinery in any occupation
becomes cheaper than manual labour, employers, in the
absence of any artificial restraint, will dismiss workmen and
set up machines. Or, if machinery be not available, an in-
crease in the price of labour may lead to retrenchment by
some other method of substitution. A better class of work-
men, for instance, may be found in order that the same
amount of work may be done by fewer hands. Hence the
increased wages of those who retain their work may tend to
throw the less capable labourer out of work altogether.
This is a possibility which must be faced. Now, first, let me
boldly say that if there is no remedy for it the thing must be
done. It is better that three-fourths should earn a decent
living and the remaining fourth be left to private charity
than that all should struggle with starvation together. It is
a terrible alternative, but the better of the two. But,
secondly, the thing need not be. The starving remnant want
food, clothing, and shelter, and they have muscles and sinews.
To set them to work to supply their" own demands, or their
equivalent, must be possible. It is not that there is a
surplus population. It is not that there are too many
workers for the demand ; for there is also too much demand
for the commodities supplied. The very same persons who
could supply the work stand also in need of the products of
80 THE LABOUB MOVEMENT,
work. There is demand for the products of work on their
part, but ineffective demand : there is capacity for supplying
work, but ineffective capacity. Why ineffective ? Why do
the worker and his work call to one another over a gulf they
cannot cross? Largely for want of an organisation con-
necting producer and consumer, and setting men to work to
supply all needs. Now such an organisation must be found,
and the road to it lies through the control of industry by
consumers.
Wo see here the necessary supplement to the Trade Union
movement. The need for some such supplement becomes
even clearer when we consider the whole function of Trade
Unionism in the distribution of wealth. We have seen
that its object, after regulating the conditions of industry, is
to fix the minimum wage for the worker at an amount which
will enable him to attain his full development and to bring
up his family in a corresponding way. It thus secures the
primary condition of sound economics — " fair " remuneration
for the worker.
But there are other social needs not to be met in this way.
In dealing with incompetency we have already, in principle,
discussed the support of the helpless, the old and the
infirm. This burden falls on the workers in one shape or
other at the present day, and will continue to do so until a
perfected individualist philosophy pushed to its logical con-
clusion has persuaded us to dispose of these encumbrances
by the more primitive and drastic method of putting an end
to them when most convenient. Pending the application of
this theory to practice, we have to regard the support of those
who produce nothing because they are unable as a charge
upon the community. It might indeed be met, in the main,
by a sufficient rise of wages all round, but such a rise could
hardly be obtained within any reasonable time by Trade
Union action. Besides, experience has shown that we can-
not safely leave the helpless to the care of individuals — unless
we wish to punish them because they are helpless. The
TBADE UNIONISM. 81
burden is a national one, affecting Societj'' as a whole, for all
have been young, and all are hable to the misfortunes of
infirmity and old age. We are all of us therefore at one
time or another a burden, 'economically, upon Society ; there-
fore, we ourselves, as Society, had better meet the burden.
Directly or indirectly the charge must be defrayed out of the
surplus left in the pockets of the nation after the mainten-
ance of the producers has been met ; and experience shows
that it had better be met directly, by a national or municipal
tax. There are, further, many things essential to public
health, or useful for the general culture or enjoyment, which
can be more efficiently carried out by Society collectively.
I need not run through the list of these, but merely mention
them here as a class of objects which will make increasing
calls upon the public purse.
By merely fixing wages at a suitable amount we do not
provide for all these needs. But, the rate of wages being
given, there is a considerable surplus of wealth which at
present goes into various private pockets in the form of Eent
Profits or Interest. It is only by drawing on this surplus, it
would appear, that Society can meet the demands upon it.
The mass of the surplus can never be touched by Trade
Unionism, nor should we desire it otherwise. If here and
there a strong Union wrests part of his large profits from an
employer there is no gain to the community at large. There
is much profit to a certain body of workers who are thus put
at an advantage as compared with others, instead of still
greater gain for a single man. But there is no broad collec-
tive gain, no improvement of the general economic condition.
A bit of profit has been transferred from one pocket to some
scores of pockets, that is all. And from our point of
view at least, movements to the enrichment of a few are
worthless. Trade Unionism then neither can nor should
aim at securing profits for the workers. By doing so it will
fail in nine cases out of ten, and in the tenth succeed only in
creating a small class of workmen-aristocrats. Its legitimate
82 THE LABOUB MOVEMENT,
function is to settle the hours and condition of work, and the
general minimum rate of wage.
The movements that are to supplement Trade Unionism
must accordingly satisfy two conditions. First they must
"correlate" demand and supply, and obviate the present
w^aste of work on one side, and human life on the other.
Secondly, they must place the surplus of wealth remaining
after the producer's claims are "fairly" satisfied at the
disposal of the community for the common use. We
have now to consider the methods by which this is being
attempted.
CHAPTEE III.
THE AIMS AND METHODS OF CO-OPERATION.
If Trade Unionism represents the control of industry by
communities of workers in the interest of all as workers,
Co-operation is the system by which production may be
organised wholly or in part in the interests of the com-
munity as consumers. Let us ask then what Co-operation
is doing, and can do, in the way of regulating production,
and making a fair distribution of surplus wealth.
First, as to the power and growth of the Co-operative
movement. We have not here to tell again the twice-told
tale, but merely to recall half-a-dozen figures to show that
whatever be the precise economic value of Co-operation, it
is a great and growing power to be reckoned with, and that
whatever it can do it probably will do on an ever-increasing
scale.
Not to go back to the days of infancy, there were, in
1862, 440 co-operative societies known to exist in England
and Wales, with a membership of 90,341 persons. Their
sales in that year amounted in round numbers to £2,330,000.
They made a profit of about £165,500.* In 1890 there
were about 1,303 societies existing in England and Wales,
of which 1,092 made returns published in the report of the
Co-operative Union. These 1,092 societies had a member-
* These figures are taken from the evidence of Mr. J. T. W. Mitchell,
Chairman of the English Co-operative Wholesale Society, before the
Labour Commission.
4 33
34 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
ship of 883,000, sold goods to the amount of £33,000,000
during the year, with a net profit of £3,200,000. In addition
there were 333 societies in Scotland, with a membership of
171,000, bringing the total membership of the Co-operative
State to something considerably over a million persons. *
Confining our view to England and Wales, we see that in
less than thirty years the co-operative population has in-
creased nearly tenfold, its business nearly fifteenfold, and
its profits almost twentyfold.
We have now to ask, What is this great movement doing
for the interests we have at heart ? What is the economic
significance of Co-operation? In most industries at the
present day the production of any article is left to any one
who chooses to undertake it. A man makes soap, or cotton,
or clothes, not because he wants to use all that he turns
out from his mill or workshop himself, nor necassarily
because some one else who is going to use them has ordered
them, but because he guesses or calculates from the general
state of the market that some one or other will buy what he
makes. The case is not much altered when the actual
manufacturer produces for a middleman. The middleman
is not a consumer, but an agent in production, and when
the speculation and the risk is not undertaken by the maker
of goods, it is merely handed over to the merchant, whether
he be the large wholesale dealer or finally the shopkeeper.
The modern system of commerce, then, will not be greatly
misrepresented if we figure it as being carried on between
two individuals, A and B, in such a way that A, without
consulting B, guesses at what B will want, and spends
much labour in making it, B meanwhile doing the like for
A. The natural consequence is that when A and B come
together to exchange their goods they do not find them-
selves altogether suited. For example, instead of A making
hats for both, w^hile B made boots, it may have occurred to
* See the Report of the Twenty-fourth Annual Co-operative Congress,
1892, p. 13G.
THE AIMS AND METHODS OF CO-OPEBATION. 35
each of them to make hats. The result is that they will
have four hats between them and no boots, and severe
commercial depression will ensue. The superfluous hats
will be worthless, and both A and B will go barefoot. Now
this is just what happens on a large scale in England to-
day. Production is for the most part unregulated. There
is no systematic attempt to get what is necessary and good
for the community produced, neither more nor less. On
the contrary, every man produces what he thinks some one
will give a good price for, and if many other people have
been thinking the same thing there will be a glut in the
market. And hence the paradox of modern industry, that
plenty is the cause of starvation. "^
Now, if we go back to A and B we may hope that they
will learn wisdom from experience. They have but to take
a very simple step. Instead of retiring each to his own
abode to work apart, they have merely to consult with one
another as to their respective needs, and set about to help
one another in supplying them. Instead, then, of A making
something that he thinks B will buy, with a view to profit-
ing on the exchange, while B works similarly for his profit,
A and B will now work together, create a joint product,
and share it between them — in other words, they will co-
operate ; for this is precisely what is effected by the co-
operative store. Instead of leaving it to individual millers,
and shoemakers, and grocers to supply their needs and
make what profit they can, co-operators undertake to
* It was at one time contended by economists that permanent and
general over-production is an impossibility. This is probably true, sup-
posing the machinery of exchange — social and material — perfected.
Meanwhile, nothing prevents continual and repeated over-production in
many departments of industry at once, over-production being understood
relatively to the existing effective demand. From the point of view of
good economic organisation there is over-production whenever the price
is too low to allow adequate remuneration for producers, whether em-
ployers or employed. Such a contingency is not only possible, but
frequent, the low price continuing for considerable periods, and varying
according to circumstances, i.e., according to the ease with which demand
for the article expands, or the supply of it gets contracted.
86 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
supply their own needs, or to direct others to do so. Co-
operation accordingly represents the organisation of
industry by a community of consumers in the interest of
all as consumers. As such it is the natural supplement to
organisation by producers.
Now a Co-operative Society, like a Trade Union, is
primarily an association of some of the residents in a
particular town or village. As such its scope and influence
on the regularity of industry and the distribution of wealth
are necessarily limited and partial. It is for one thing
almost entirely confined to the business of shopkeeping.
It is thus a partial regulation of one form of industry in
the interests of a small group of consumers. A wider
future opened upon co-operation when the Federal
principle was introduced. What Federation will do for
the Trade Union movement has yet to be seen. What it
has done for Co-operation is clear. It has transformed an
aggregate of isolated and comparatively petty shops into an
almost national organisation, undertaking wholesale pro-
duction and distribution * on a scale large enough to form
an appreciable fraction of the commerce of the country, and
linking a million men and women all over the island by a
common interest. Through the Federal principle then
Co-operation and Trade Unionism are growing to be modes
of national organisation, and it is only as their development
in this direction grows complete that they take their true
place as methods of the collective control of industry in the
interests of the nation as a whole.
The Co-operative Society, according to our analysis of its
principle, is a community of consumers, undertaking,
through their committee and officials, to provide the goods
they require for their own use. They find the capital and
• The two great wholesale societies exist to supply the Eetail Stores.
They are in fact associations of which the local societies are members.
The English Wholesale had, in 1891, a membership of 966 societies, and
sold goods to its members to the value of £8,000,000. (Evidence of Mr.
Mitchell, p. 8.)
THE AIMS AND METHODS OF CO-OPEBATION. 37
direct the management, and we have thus a form of the
control of production by consumers.
This fact has been in some degree obscured by the
tendency of the movement to concentrate itself upon that
form of production which is known as retail trade. Many
people would hardly consider the retail trader as a producer
at all, and are puzzled by the inclusion of shopkeeping
among the branches of production. Of course, this is a
pure mistake. Everybody is an agent of production who
assists in conveying goods to the consumer. The baker's
boy who brings my bread round in a cart to my house is no
whit less a producer of my bread than the baker who makes
the loaf, or the seamen and railway men who carried the
wheat from Colorado. What I want is not wheat that is
in Colorado, nor bread that is in the bakery, but a loaf
on my table, and every one who has assisted in making
the loaf out of its original material, and in bringing it to
my table, is equally an agent in the production of the loaf
which I require. But furthermore, Co-operation is no
longer confined to retail trade. It not only, as above
shown, does a large wholesale and therefore also a large
transport business, but it is steadily extending itself to
manufactures of various kinds. Here, then, we have a
vigorous and growing movement based on the principle
that the customer sets the producer to work, and regulates
his industry through his committee. That is, we have in
essence the machinery for correlating demand and supply,
and thus doing something to mitigate the fluctuations of
trade, from which all classes suffer so much.*
* This result cannot indeed be expected "on any great scale until a far
larger proportion of the trade of the country is conducted, in one form
or another, on co-operative hues. But the tendency is already evident.
Both Mr. Mitchell and Mr. Maxwell (Chairman of the Scottish Wholesale
Society) dwell on this effect of Co-operation. Mr. Mitchell (Evidence, p.
13) expressly attributes the greater continuity of work for the Co-operative
employe to the fact that " we have an organised market for our produc-
tions." Mr. Maxwell (Evidence before Labour Commission, October 25,
1892, p. 36) says that, owing to the steady increase of trade, "workmen
38 THE LABOUB MOVEMENT.
Secondly, the profits of co-operative enterprise (though
ultimately distributed on a scientific principle) are primarily
communised — loss and gain affecting directly the whole
co-operative community. Let me repeat Mrs. Webb's
explanation of this. At the co-operative store you pay,
in the first instance, the ordinary market price for your
purchase, and you receive in return a tally for the amount
of your payment. At the end of the quarter you send in
your tallies, and the available surplus for dividend having
been determined, you receive a share of it proportionate to
the amount of your purchases as guaranteed by your tallies.
To some people this looks like a mere clumsy way of giving
to you with one hand and taking away with the other.
" Why not lower prices at once ? " they say. Others have
attached importance to it as a means of encouraging thrift
by putting people in possession of two or three pounds at
once, instead of saving for themselves on each purchase. But
the fact is that this simple device has succeeded in com-
munising profit and dividing it scientifically among the
members of the community. A society of consumers has
undertaken production. All the producers being paid, cost
of production, including management, being met, there
remains a surplus. This surplus would be a profit if the
community were selling to outsiders. But they are selling
to themselves. The surplus therefore remains in the hands
of its original possessors, and is ultimately, with the
exception of such part of it as is reserved for collective
purposes — educational or provident — distributed among all
members of the society on a definite principle. Thus the
and workwomen hare almost a certainty of constant employment in the
Society." In the clothing factories, he says, " during the slack season
we are so certain of an outlet for our productions, we make up larger
stocks, thus giving employment all the year round." There is, again, a
confidence in the relations of the Wholesale Society and its customers,
which prevents injury from the small accidents of commerce, and tends
to stability. And this result would bo more marked if Co-operative trade
were large enough to set the tone to industry as a whole.
THE AIMS AND METHODS OF CO-OPERATION. 89
whole community gains and loses together, and not at the
expense of one another.
Hence, thirdly, "Profit on Price," profit properly so
called, is not communised, but abolished. The surplus
of the value produced over the cost of production passes
to the community — the producer's surplus is communised.
But there are no separate business establishments effecting
exchange, and therefore no profit. Hence competition for
profit disappears.
Thus the Co-operative Movement admirably achieves all
that is required of the collective control of Industry in the
matter of directing Production, communising the surplus,
and accordingly restricting competition. And with every
stage of its growth the movement will become more effectual
in each direction. The Federal principle is gathering the
isolated Co-operative Societies together into a great whole of
almost national extent ; so that when we speak of the Co-
operative community, we no longer mean a small local
group, but a million of men and women in all parts of Great
Britain. The Co-operative community is becoming a mode
of national organisation, with results of national import-
ance.
It may, nevertheless, be objected to Co-operation that,
fast as it may grow, it can never absorb the whole of our
industry. Perhaps not ; but meanwhile the Co-operative
principle can at this moment be still more rapidly extended
in another direction. There are many things which prac-
tically all the members of a community require. Such are
security to life and property, good roads, means of convey-
ance and communication, light, fresh air in open spaces,
water, and the rest. And as to these, notice that demand
is very constant, and people are very nearly unanimous as
to the quality of the article desired. There is little room
for variation of taste in the matter of drinking-water, or
even railway travelling. In these cases, then, where all,
or nearly all, people require a commodity, and where indi-
40 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT,
viduals do not differ much in their tastes, a different form
of co-operation has been growing up. I mean the co-opera-
tion that makes use of legally established machinery. The
dwellers in any thriving town which provides itself through
its corporate government with the requisites mentioned,
are, industrially considered, members of a large co-operative
society. They find that as a body they have certain needs
in common ; they direct their servants, the mayor and the
councillors, to make arrangements to supply these needs,
and they raise the necessary capital by a rate upon them-
selves. This is Co-operation, or, if you prefer it. Socialism.
On this side the two ideas are one. In each case the
persons who are to use the product set the producer in
motion, and determine the quantity and quality of the
product.
In this, as in voluntary Co-operation, we have the com-
munity of consumers directing production ; we have a sur-
plus over the cost of production, which can be used for
collective purposes in improving the locality ; and for this
area of industry once more we eliminate "profit on ex-
change " and competition for profit. Here we have one-
half of the case for a '* progressive " municipal poUcy. It
is simply a step to the collective control of industry in the
interests of all. And it differs from voluntary co-operation
solely in the employment of legal machinery — a difference
justified by the nature of the commodities provided.
It remains only to be pointed out that the State and the
municipality differ primarily in size ; and if the dwellers in
a municipality may with advantage co-operate for producing
what is needed for their town, a whole nation may, with
equal advantage, set its central government to work for
things pertaining to the country as a whole. Thus if we
municipalise tramways, we may with equal reason nationalise
railways. It is commonly urged that a State department is
a bad manager. This may be so in certain cases; but there
is no need for it to be so. In the Post Office, for example,
THE AIMS AND METHODS OF CO-OPEBATION. 41
we have one of the largest business organisations in the
country conducted, on the whole, cheaply and efficiently,
with a large profit to the nation. And this is not the only
point gained by our " socialistic " postal system. Suppose
the service handed over unconditionally to private com-
panies, we should have tremendous competition for the
mails between large centres and in busy, populous districts,
together with high tariffs or perhaps total neglect in out-
lying places. The uniform rate, which is the making of the
Post Office as a national institution, would go, and with it
the means of uniformly cheap and speedy communication,
which at present unites friends and kindred the whole
country over. Of course, at the same time, the profit which
now goes to meet the general expenditure of the nation
would pass into private hands. In general, it may be held
that the State will manage a business well if the public at
1-arge are immediately and directly interested in its manage-
ment. If the miUtary and naval departments are badly
administered, the public has its own want of interest in the
matter to thank. Work will not be well done, as a rule,
unless those for whom it is done keep awake.
Put the municipality in command of that which is muni-
cipal in extent and the nation in control of that which is
national. In this way the principle of control by the body
of consumers proceeds most easily and speedily by several
converging roads. And on each method the effects are the
same. We avoid the waste and friction at present involved
in the adjustment of demand and supply ; and we put the
surplus revenue into the pockets, not of individuals, but of
the community. Lastly, we introduce a new spirit and a
new principle into industry.
Those who at the present day carry on business for per-
sonal profit or wages, are unintentionally performing a
social function of the first importance. I say uninten-
tionally, because, as things now stand, neither employers
nor workmen exercise themselves much, as a rule, about
42 THE LABOUB MOVEMENT.
the social usefulness of the commodity they are producing
or distributing. For them the one thing needful is to find
sufficient purchasers, and the true commercialist spirit cares
little for the destiny or usefulness of the commodity it has
produced when the sale is once made. Of course there are
honourable exceptions to this rule. There are men who
would rather starve than engage in a socially noxious traffic
of any kind, and there are many who would bear consider-
able loss rather than turn out an unsound article. Never-
theless, the difficulty of stirring any social feeling against
trades, or forms of conducting trade, which cost the lives or
impair the health of millions, is a sufficient evidence of the
fact that, however important be the actual function sub-
served by producers under an individuaUst system, the per-
formance of that function is not the motive of production,
and, certain honourable exceptions apart, bears no relation
to that motive at all.
Since, then, the all-important work of supplying the
material and other needs of society is left to nature or to
chance, there is little need for wonder if the said work is
ill performed. Nor is it of the slightest use to hurl denun-
ciations at the head of any particular class at present en-
gaged in production. If over-pressure of work alternates
with enforced idleness ; if 50 per cent, profits are found side
by side with ruin ; if shoddy or adulterated goods fill the
market, society has no one but itself to blame. It counten-
ances and upholds a certain system — or rather absence of
system — and it must take the consequences.
The reform needed, then, is a quite different method of
producing wealth. We want a new spirit in economics —
the spirit of mutual help, the sense of a common good.
We want each man to feel that his daily work is a service
to his kind, and that idleness or anti-social work are a
disgrace. This new spirit, and the practical arrange-
ment for giving it effect, we have seen growing up from
small beginnings, with many drawbacks and limitations.
THE AIMS AND METHODS OF CO-OPEBATION. 43
in the movements here reviewed, and v^e see accordingly
in their development the best hope for the immediate
futm-e.
But now, supposing this control of industry by consumers
completed, with all the results above enumerated fully
realised, what guarantee is there, it may be asked, that the
worker will be adequately paid or good conditions of work
secured ? We may steady trade, and so increase our total
product, and we may communise our surplus ; but all with-
out adequately remunerating the worker. This is particu-
larly obvious where the communities of consumers and
producers are not the same — i.e., when men consume who do
not produce. Take a co-operative society employing work-
men, shop assistants, &c. These employes need not be
members of the society, and if they are, they may be a very
small minority. What is to safeguard their interest ? How
can we be sure that the society will not be as anxious to in-
crease the common profit at the expense of the workers as
an ordinary Joint Stock Company, which would rather see its
men work eighteen hours a day than abandon J per cent, of
its dividend ?
There are two answers to this. First, the spirit of co-
operation is opposed to " sweating " in any form. The
movement never has been, and never can be, worked by
mere " dividend hunters." It rests on public spirit and the
sense of community ; and the co-operative community is
not a narrow corporation, such as fosters sinister interests,
but is as open as the air to all dwellers in the land. Hence
co-operators have, in more than one instance, taken a lead-
ing part in reforming the conditions of employment. Thus
in thirteen large societies in Oldham, the hours worked by
employes in the shops average, according to Mr. Hardern,
56'16 per week" (exclusive of meal times). The same
authority estimates the average for ordinary shops in Old-
ham at 70 hours. The south country stores do not quite
* Evidence given before the Shop Hours Committee. Ee^ort, p. 203.
44 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
reach the Oldham level ; but the average hours for the
whole number of societies investigated by Mr. Hardern
come to 57 per week, or 9^ per diem. And in Northumber-
land certain stores have already instituted a 48-hour week.
Thus the Northern Co-operative Societies are becoming the
pioneers of the eight-hour day for shop assistants, just as they
led the van in the weekly half-hohday movement thirty years
ago.* No doubt there have been disputes, and even strikes,
in the co-operative world. Disputes are " common to the
race." Common also is the black sheep, and no doubt there
have been black sheep among co-operative societies regarded
as employers. Meanwhile, the growing alliance with Trade
Unionism will strengthen the hands and back the eloquence
of every co-operator who pleads for dealing out the measure
of justice and generosity to those in his employ which he
himself as a workman demands from his employer.
What is true of co-operation proper holds also of the
other forms of "compulsory co-operation." The mainspring
of the new municipal activity is the desire to brighten the
life of our towns, not outwardly alone, but in the homes of
the people. The force behind the movement is the belief
in it as a means, not merely of supplying gas and water
cheap, but of raising the condition of the worker. Hence
the demand that Trade Union rates should be paid, and Trade
Union conditions observed in all municipal works. While
this spirit lasts in the Co-operative World and among the
leaders of reform in our municipalities, there is no fear for the
future of either movement, or of the workman under them.
But, it may be urged, this is all very well for the present,
and will be all very well as long as the movement is in the
hands of the enthusiasts. But what guarantee is there of
permanence ? There is nothing in the constitution of the
Co-operative Society as such to safeguard the worker. Just
* Op. cit. p, 209. Cf. a Eeport by Miss L. Harris on the Conditions of
Women working in Co-operative Stores in 1895, which, however, shows
far less favourable results in the matter of wages.
THE AIMS AND METHODS OF CO-OPEBATION. 45
the same holds of the municipality and the State. The
tramway men may be voters, but they form altogether a
tiny fraction of a municipal constituency. What, then, is
to prevent the majority from combining to oppress them.
Here, then, is the second answer : The Trade Union. Here
we have the natural organ for expressing the interests of
the working community — an organisation separate from
the society of consumers, and resting on a different basis.
I do not mean that all is at once settled when we have a
strong Trade Union. We may in the future have disputes
between Union and Union, and, as I have already insisted,
we want definite ethical principles to form the ultimate
standard of appeal. But I mean that the Union is the
needed supplement to the other forms of the collective con-
trol of industry. Even when all work as well as eat, our
interests as consumers, as purchasers of labour, will not
always be identical with our requirements as producers or
labourers, and we want the appropriate organisations to
represent each interest and provide an amicable and just
settlement of differences. In the last chapter we saw that
control by consumers was the necessary supplement to
Trade Unionism ' we now see that, conversely, Trade
Unionism, or the control by the producer, fills the gap left
by Co-operation, voluntary, municipal, and national.
We shall now be better able to take a general view of the
different forms of the Labour movement and see what
unites them. It is not only as to ultimate ends that they
make common cause. That a better distribution of wealth
and a higher tone in business enterprise are both desirable
would be agreed by many people who are neither Trade
Unionists nor Co-operators nor supporters of State Socialism
in any form. Many benevolent and philanthropic people
see and deplore the evils of the existing state of things
without joining any of the tbrae movements in question.
What really unites these movements is the general character
46 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
of the means they adopt for the furtherance of their ends.
In one form or another all three alike are introducing the
principle of the collective control of industry by the com-
munity in the interests of all its members. They are seek-
ing to replace competition and the forces of individual
self-interest as the arbiters of industry, by a deliberate and
systematic arrangement of labour and commerce in the best
interests of society as a whole. They are all at present in
an inchoate or incomplete condition which, to some extent,
disguises this common character, but this none the less
expresses their essential tendencies and the secret of their
life and vigour.
Within its own sphere, and so far as it is able to carry
out its objects, the Trade Union entirely supersedes free
competition between individuals actuated by their own
interests as the controlling force of industrial life. Where
the Union is strong the individual workman is powerless
against it. He has to conform to its regulations as to
wages, hours, and conditions of work, no matter how much
better a bargain he may think that he could drive on his
own account. It might pay him on occasion to take work
below the standard wage, but the Union will prevent him.
He may be able to work beyond the regulation hours with-
out injury to himself. He is forbidden by an association
of men of average strength. He might be willing and able to
take risks which others shun, but it is not allowed him. In
every direction he is limited and confined. It matters not
in the least that the compulsion is not put upon him by the
law or any legally constituted authority. His "liberty"
is " interfered with " every bit as much wherever the Union
is sufficiently strong for the purpose. He has to learn the
lesson that a man must put up with some losses and incon-
veniences for the general good of his neighbours. He is
confronted with the authority and power of the judgment
of the community as to its common welfare. The com-
munity is here not the state, but a body of workers, and its
THE AIMS AND METHODS OF CO-OPERATION. 47
decisions are enforced, not by officials in uniform, but by
duly appointed committees and officers taken from the ranks
of the workers themselves. But the principle of common
action for common good imposing limits on individual
action for personal good is apparent here, just as it is
apparent in every law passed by the Houses of Parliament.
There is, however, an important difference. Parliament
represents, or should represent, the people as a whole.
The Trade Union represents a certain section of the
people, and hitherto these sections have been relatively
small and isolated. This accounts at once for the com-
parative weakness of the Union's authority and for the
sectional interests by which it is sometimes dominated.
The true principle of the collective control of industry
means a control exercised, if not by the whole nation, yet
in the interests of the whole nation. No other is either
desirable or permanently practicable. The Trade Union
then sins against its own vital principles when it lays down
rules in its own interests to the damage of the public, just
as Parliament abrogates its own moral authority when it
passes a law in the interests of a class to the detriment of
the conmionwealth. Now while the Union is confined to
an isolated trade or locality, it is particularly liable to this
weakness. But in the great national Unions of to-day,
very diverse interests of many localities have to be weighed
against one another, and the merits of disputes may be
adjudged coolly and dispassionately by persons living at a
distance, and responsible to many other branches than the
one affected. In this way the sectional character of Trade
Unionism grows less and its decisions grow in weight,
deliberateness, and power. This process would be greatly
furthered by the development of the Federal Principle,
which hitherto has made little headway.* Federation no
less than Amalgamation enlarges, and therefore strengthens,
the basis of Trade Union action. It removes the narrow-
* Cf. Webb, " Trade Unionism," pp. 340 ff., and 407, 408.
48 THE LABOVB MOVEMENT.
ness and pettiness, and the tendency to foster sinister
interests which were almost inseparable from the original
form of Union, while it gives free play and full encourage-
ment to the broader public spirit which recognises the true
identity of interest for all workers.
And there is nothing to regret in the course which the
development of Unionism has taken. Eegarded as a moral
and educational force, it has begun quite rightly with the
elements of the subject. It starts with the workshop and
teaches the doctrine of fellowship and brotherhood for all
who work at the same bench. The lessons of public spirit
and public action are thus first learnt by the Trade Unionist
in relation to the comrades with whom he is actually asso-
ciated in his work and daily life. But the training once
perfect, the principle is easily applied to a wider area. He
who is faithful in small things will be faithful also in great,
and he who loves and will serve his brother whom he hath
seen will learn to aid his brother whom he hath not seen.
This is working from the base upwards — there is no other
safe method. Just as the Trade Union represents the
limitation of each man's freedom by the whole body of
workers, so it depends for its very existence on the loyalty
of each member to the common cause. Every advance in
Trade Unionism involves a progress in the intelligence and
public spirit of the workers. No Union can exist unless
the mass of its members are prepared for mutual help and
forbearance, unless they have unlearnt the lesson of self-
seeking and are ready to make sacrifices for the good of
all.
Trade Unionism, then, as it grows and broadens, intro-
duces little by little a new spirit into industry and becomes
the means of regulating it in the interest of the working
community. And as in a healthy community all are
workers who are capable of work, the interests Trade
Unionism considers are those of the community at large.
It is of course a mere vulgar error to regard the principle
THE AIMS AND METHODS OF COOPEBATION. 49
of Trade Unionism as limited to manual work. The
majority of the learned professions form closer Trade
Unions — either voluntary or supported and incorporated by
law — than are yet to be found in the world of Labour. It
is true that these Unions of professional men leave much
to be desired in their constitution and regulation. It is true
that, alike in narrowness and selfishness of aim, and in
hide-bound adherence to tradition, Trade Unions like the
Bar rank far below the average Society of manual labourers.
But there is no reason why this should always be so. On
the contrary, there is every ground to hope that the public
spirit so rapidly growing among manual workers will spread
with increasing rapidity through other occupations and turn
professional regulations to the general benefit at once of the
profession and the public.
We have already tried to show that, as Trade Unionism
represents the control of industry by the body of producers,
so Co-operation represents the control by the body of con-
sumers. So far as its influence extends, it supersedes the
anarchy of competition, introduces steadiness and con-
tinuity of employment, and secures the enjoyment of the
surplus product for all who join in promoting it. Like
Trade Unionism also it rests on the pubhc spirit of its
members, and their readiness to sacrifice personal profit for
the common good. It controls industry, so to say, from the
other end, and hence its action is complementary to that of
the Unions, securing for the community as consumers the
benefits which as workers they could hardly obtain.
Now both the Trade Union and the Co-operative Society
are voluntary associations of men consciously formed for
securing certain common ends. But if we inquire a little
more deeply than usual what the State is, why it has come
into being, and what justifies its existence, the answer must
be that the State also is an association of all the dwellers
in a country, an association that has no doubt grown up
unconsciously, but which has grown because it has secured
5
50 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
certain valuable results for all its members. And in the
democratic state we get the true principle of association
clearly worked out, namely, that all citizens shall be called
on to serve the common weal, and, on the other side, that
the State shall serve not the interest of the Few, nor even
of the Many, but the interest of All.
Like the State, the municipality is a kind of association,
but exercising a more limited authority over a smaller area.
And the difference between the State or the municipality
and other associations formed by men, is mainly that to
these two every man living in a given locality 7?mst belong,
whether he likes it or not. He must support them by his
contributions and he must submit to their authority. In
the case of the Trade Union or Co-operative Society he
need not belong to the Association unless he chooses,
though, at least, in the case of the Union, he may often be
controlled by the common power notwithstanding that he
denies its authority. That the Union is a voluntary
association makes no difference whatever to the reality of
the control which it exercises over individuals, nor does it
diminish by one jot the sternness of its " interference " with
the " liberty of the subject " when the said liberty is judged
hostile to the common good. The apostles of liberty in the
abstract — of the right divine of all men to do wrong — would
be perfectly logical in attacking the Trade Union just as
much as the "Progressive" municipal policy. And con-
versely those who believe that the collective control of
industry is necessary to the economic welfare of society need
trouble themselves little as to the name of the body by
which that control is exercised.
This much being premised, it is clear that the progress of
what is often called Municipal Socialism, but might just as
well be called municipal life, is simply the growth of the
collective control of industry under a special form. Municipal
Socialism aims, as we have seen, at a special kind of Co-
operation— the Co-operation of all the dwellers in a district
THE AIMS AND METHODS OF CO-OPERATION. 51
— to supply themselves with their common requirements by
means of certain legally constituted machinery, and enforc-
ing their decisions by legal powers. In doing this, of course,
they interfere with the liberty of the individual. An indi-
vidualist philosopher may not want to wash, but must pay
his water-rate all the same. The majority who do want
to wash, enforce an equal rate of payment on the unwashed
minority. Tyrannical, perhaps, but necessary. Grant that
washing is generally desirable, and that the means thereto
can be most efficiently and economically provided for the
dwellers in a town by the collective action of the town
involving a contribution from all members of the same, then
the anti- washing minority must submit. This is no new
principle. It is a principle as old as human society. The
weakest tribe of bushmen could not hold together, unless
the interests of the tribe as a whole were preferred in some
degree to the interests or desires of individuals. What is
new, in modern applications of the principle, is nothing but
the wider and deeper conception of the welfare of society.
The municipal control of production, then, is analogous in
principle, and result to ordinary Co-operation, and has, as I
have tried to show, a peculiar and appropriate sphere of its
own, in which Co-operation has shown no tendency to get a
footing. And as with the municipality, so with the State.
There is no reason why the railways, or any other business
of national magnitude should not like the Post Office, the
National Defence, and the Coinage, be undertaken by a
committee sitting at Whitehall and representing the whole
nation. To certain forms of production, this mode of control
is most appropriate, while to others it is entirely unsuited.
But after all, the main function" of the State in industry,
as in all other things, is to be the supreme regulative
authority. Every lesser community may be dominated by
sectional interests, and as the power of such sections grows,
the supreme authority of the central power is needed to
balance and harmonise them. Again, there are certain
52 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
conditions of work most appropriately regulated by the
State, while others are best left to the control of the
industry concerned. The prime necessities of industrial
life ought not to be left to the care of subordinate
authorities, or the uncertain effectiveness of voluntary
organisations. They are matters of too urgent a necessity.
Such, for example, is the limitation of hours.* It is a prime
social necessity to secure some degree of leisure for all
citizens — even tramway men — and to prevent the deteriora-
tion of the worker, through long hours in unhealthy
employment. Thus, by almost universal consent, the State
was more than justified in undertaking to limit the hours of
work for women and children in the textile trades. This
might have been left to Trade Union action and delayed
half a century to the physical deterioration of two genera-
tions of operatives, to the saving of no principle worth
saving, and the preserving of no interest worth preserving.
As a matter of fact, it was accomplished speedily and satis-
factorily by law. Similarly the provisions of the Factory
Acts may be, and should be, extended as far as possible to
all other trades, and the State may with equal advantage
limit the hours of men in unhealthy employments, and
even within wider limits, in all employments, on the same
principle, and with the same results as though the regula-
tion were enforced by Trade Union action. No less
necessary than the limitation of hours is the careful
supervision of the condition of work in all unhealthy and
dangerous trades. To risk other men's lives unnecessarily
for the sake of gain is a form of murder, and murder by
free contract has hitherto been safe and profitable, but
* It may be useful here to distinguish what is necessary from what is
desirable. A certain limit (say eleven or twelve hours) might be regarded
as an absolute maximum and fixed once for all for every employment alike,
while a lower maximum (eight hours, or less) might be fixed for un-
healthy occupations. Thus much might fairly be regarded as essential.
Beyond this, it is surely desirable to effect a general reduction to eight
hours, and here the law might help the various trades to reach this end
for themselves by the principle of local and trade option.
THE AIMS AND METHODS OF CO-OPEBATION. 53
Society has to see that murder is not done with its per-
mission.*
Such are some of the conditions of industry which it is
the special province of the State to prescribe, and in these
directions its industrial activity is most likely to develop
in the immediate future. The central government is not
destined to be merely the largest of employers. Above and
beyond that, lies its great work of regulating all that is
most vital to society, and prescribing the unity in things
essential, without which a nation cannot live. And this
ideal of the State is no modern " Socialist fad," but is as
old as Aristotle, holding with him that the State "comes
into being that men may live, but exists that they may live
well."
In four different ways, then, we have seen the principle of
collective control at work. And in this principle we recognise
the natural base of alliance for all who have gone to work
in any one of these different ways. Not only are there many
mansions in the City of God, but there are many paths that
lead thereto, even though each be narrow. And so there
are many ways to social welfare — the noblest goal that man
can set before him — but all trend in one direction and at
last they meet. And we stand now at the point where the
unity of principle that has guided us all along is becoming
clear. That principle is simple. It assumes that intelligence
is better than blind force, and reaches its end more speedily
and surely. It holds that the economic well-being of society
is the true end of industry, and that this end will therefore
be reached better by an intelligent organisation of industry,
than by the haphazard interaction of unintelligent forces.
It holds, that self-interest acts intelligently enough for self,
* As a step to a completer organisation of industry, it should be made
the rule that all public "concessions" to private companies should
stipulate for " fair " conditions for the worker as a part of the agreement.
If we still persist in allowing private persons to make a profit on our gas
and water supply, we can at least insist that they should employ their
men on Union conditions.
54 THE LABOVB MOVEMENT.
but inasmuch as it totally disregards the welfare of others,
it is to be regarded, relatively to that welfare, as a blind and
often destructive force. It holds that, apart from the control
of industry by the community for its own ends, there is no
force but that of self-interest to impel and guide production,
and that therefore the withdrawal of collective control leaves
industry to the interaction of blind forces producing mixed
good and evil, with no necessary tendency to progress, no pre-
established *' economic harmony " between self-interest and
the common weal. Accordingly, on the ground that intelli-
gence is more effective than brute m.atter, and that the
control of the community is the only possible intelligent
agency which can direct the course of economic progress, it
advocates the substitution of such control for the present
chaos of the economic world.
CHAPTIi^R IV.
THE DISTBIBUTION OF WEALTH
Let us now try to sum up the joint economic result of the
movements under consideration. We have seen that each is
attacking its appropriate part of the problem of industrial
organisation. Let us now consider how far they are natu-
rally fitted to work together in attacking the problem as a
whole. We shall get some light on this point if we examine
the present *' system " of unregulated industry and compare
its main results, point by point, with those which our methods
of organisation are tending to put in their place.
In drawing the broad outlines of a system of private
enterprise, such as on the whole prevails in England at the
present day, we shall simplify our task if we follow the
ordinary method of economists, and assume for the moment
that the competitive system described is really a system of
free com.petition. And when we speak of competition as
free, we imply, be it remembered, a good deal more than
absence of any legal or other collectively imposed restraint.
We imply equality of advantage, i.e., that all bargainers in
the markets of the country are equal in position and in
knowledge of their own interests. That being understood,
it will be seen at once that our assumption is a large one,
and not fully realised in any existing state of society.
Certain results of this will be considered in their place.
Meanwhile, it will be convenient to proceed as though the
assumption were justified, precisely as in many problems
of mechanics it is convenient to assume that bodies are
55
56 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
perfectly rigid, or move without friction. In this way
we get certain broad truths first, and can introduce the
necessary limitations and corrections afterwards.
The central fact of modern industry is the Division of
Labour, and the consequent production of goods — not for the
use of the producers, but — for Exchange. In the regulation
of industry everything depends on the way in which the Ex-
change value of goods is determined. Think, first, for a
moment, how we should determine Exchange value, if we had
it in our power to do so, on the principles above determined,
that is to say, with a view to justice and social utility. Suppos-
ing the commodity to be useful to society,* we should try to
reward the producer in proportion to the time, effort, and
skill applied in making it. And in considering the reward
due for a given quantity of time, effort, and skill, we should
be guided by the amount it would be possible to give to all
workers, so that the weakest would have enough for a
civilised existence. In apportioning our reward, then, we
have taken into account the social utility of the product,
and the amount and character of the work done upon it,
and the result will be that we shall get what we want done,
and the producer will make as good a living as may be
compatible with the wealth of society.
t Turning to the actual effect of competition, we find first
that the value of things as estimated in money is con-
tinually fluctuating, and that when we ask what is the
normal value of a thing and how is it fixed, we must make
it clear whether we are referring to short or long periods.
Consider a " market " for a day, and you find very likely
that prices are different in different places or at different
"^ From the point of view of abstract justice, this is obviously the first
consideration. If my time and skill are spent in devising an infernal
machine for use in a public building, my just reward is penal servitude.
t In what follows I am guided mainly by Prof. Marshall, whose account
is the most comprehensive. But it will be at once understood that I am
not attempting even to sketch a theory of value as a whole. I wish
merely to bring out certain points with regard to exchange which explain
some of the obvious evils of our industrial system.
THE DISTRIBUTION OF WEALTH. 57
hours. But you can strike an average and call it the
normal price for the day — some prices being higher and
some lower than the normal. Take the same market for
a week, and you will find prices differ from day to day.
The average price of Monday may be higher or lower than
the average for Tuesday. But you can, of course, strike an
average for the week as a whole, and speak of the prices
for each day as above or below, as '' fluctuating round "
the normal level for the week. In the same way the week's
average fluctuates about the normal level for the year and
so on for any period, as Professor Marshall has ably shown.
When we speak of the normal price of a commodity we
mean the normal or average price for the period we are
considering, whether that period be short or long.
Consider first a short period. There is a certain quantity
of goods in a market,* and an effective demand for a certain
quantity on the part of the purchasers in the market taken
as a whole. No one can calculate either quantity precisely,
though an acute dealer can make a good guess. But, what
is important, the extent of the demand may vary with the
price of the goods. More people will be likely to buy good
fish at Is. then at Is. 6d. the pound. I shall buy another
pair of boots if I can get them cheap, if not, I shall make
this pair do for another month. Now if you can sell off
all your fish at Is. 6d. you will do so, and I, who cannot
afford to go beyond Is., will go without. But if you cannot
find purchasers who will take off all your fish at Is. 6d., it
will pay you to lower the price. If all your fish goes off at
Is., you get more in the long run than if you sell half at
Is. 6d. You have to consider this, and your aim being to
get the maximum return, you will all the time be feeling
after a price at which you will get off so much that
multiplying price into quantity your takings are greater than
they would be at any other price. Suppose this price to be
* V/e need not here complicate the question by referring to expected
goods.
58 THE LABOUE MOVEMENT.
Is. 3d.,* then Is. 3d. would be an equilibrium point to which
the price will be constantly tending, though it may never
reach it.
Now, the important point to notice is that the price thus
fixed by the equilibrium of demand and supply bears no
relation whatever to the cost of production. One man,
favoured by circumstances or by ability, may find his fish
only cost him 9d. per lb. to bring into the market, and,
accordingly, he takes a profit of 6d. on the price of Is, 3d. —
roughly, 66 per cent, on his outlay. Another, by ill-luck
or mismanagement, finds it cost him 2s. to bring the self-
same fish to the self-same market, and his time, labour, and
anxiety are rewarded by a loss of some 37 per cent, on his
transaction. Nevertheless, notice, he will not be able to
sell one penny higher than his neighbour, or, if he does,
he will only lose the more, supposing Is. 3d. to be the
equilibrium price.
Now the question is what is to become of this man,
supposing his ill-luck or mismanagement to continue. It
is clear that he must eventually go under water, and that
the longer he struggles the worse off he will be. Now this
introduces us to the determination of long-period values.
For the disappearance of the unsuccessful competitors
diminishes the quantity of goods in the market, and given
the same demand as before with a decreased supply, the
equilibrium price will rise.t It is clear, then, that, in the
long run taking an average of prices extending over a
sufiicient time to cause an extension of production when
the market is good or a contraction of it when bad, this
average will be sufficient to compensate every producer in
* Suppose, e.g., you can sell 60 lb. at Is. 3d. your total return is £3 15s. ,
and suppose you could only get off 40 lb. at Is. 6d. you could get only £3 at
that price, wliile again 70 lb. at Is. gives you £3 lUs. In such a condition
of the market Is. 3d. gives you the best return.
t For if I have only 40 lb. to sell, and if as before I can find buyers for
40 lb. at Is. Gd. then Is. 6d. gives me a better return than Is. 3d. (viz.
£3 instead of £2 10s.) It may even pay to raise the price further, as if
I can tind thirty-five buyers at 2s.
THE DISTRIBUTION OF WEALTU. 59
the market for his expenditure of time, trouble, capital, and
the like. The average price over a long period tends, then,
to equal the cost of production. But we have seen that
the cost of production differs for each producer. A and B
are both farmers. A is an able man, farming rich land near
a great town. B a bad farmer on poor soil at a considerable
distance. But the state of demand is such as to require all
B's corn as well as A's. Then if this state of things is to
continue permanently the price of corn must be sufficient
to remunerate B, i.e., to allow B to pay the average rate to
his labourers and to receive the average rate of interest on his
capital, a.nd the average return for his own risk, anxiety,
management, and the like — the average in each case being
determined by relation to the rate obtain n.ble in other
occupations open to men of the stamp of B. But it is
clear that if the price is thus high enough to give an
average reward to B, it will give something very much
above the average to A — unless, indeed, A has already had
to pay a landlord or the community for the privilege of
farming rich land in a good situation. In this case the
surplus that goes primarily to A will ultimately find its way
into other pockets. But notice first that price is thus
determined (on the average of a long period) by the cost of
producing that part of the commodities sold which are
brought to market under the greatest disadvantages. These
goods being, as it were, on the margin of the market, so
that a further fall in price would exclude them from it, they
are spoken of as on the margin of production,''' and the
cost of producing them is the marginal cost of production
for that market. This being understood, it holds that when
men are very wise in their own interests and competition
very free, the average cost of a commodity in a long period
is determined by the marginal cost of production. Notice,
secondly, that this being so a surplus remains over to every
* The phrase was, of course, suggested by land supposed to bo physi-
cally on the margin of cultivation.
60 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
producer except those on the margin — the surplus which,
in our instance, was left to farmer A by the price which
just satisfied farmer B. The existence of this surplus
depending on the inequalities in human and non-human
nature, it must remain in existence as long as human
industry persists. Its existence is not one of the hypo-
thetical laws of political economy, but one of its categorical
or unconditional generalisations. But the disposal of the
surplus is a very different matter, depending very largely on
human institutions.
We have now before us two main elements in the returns
which a farmer or manufacturer gets for his labour. A certain
portion of the return reimburses him for the cost of pro-
ducing his article. Another portion, which may vary from
zero * to any quantity, is a surplus over and above the cost
of production. "We must consider, then, the elements which
make up both these divisions of the return. To do this
fully would be to write a book on pohtical economy. But
consider for a moment very briefly what goes to build up
the cost of producing an article. We may distinguish the
elements of ordinary manual labour and of skilled labour.
The price of these, it must be remembered, is determined,
not immediately by the value of their product but rather by
the average amount that the same labour and skill can get
elsewhere. Next come earnings of management, and under
them we must include not only salaries paid to clerks, foremen,
overlookers, or managers, but a sufficient recompense to the
employer himself for his trouble and anxiety. A man of
capital will not permanently occupy himself in a business
v;hich gives him no return for his trouble beyond what he
could safely get for his capital if invested in something else.
This brings us to the last element in cost — viz., interest
on the capital employed. Now of all these elements there
is a certain average which goes to determine the marginal
cost of production, and through it the average price of the
* Or as I shall notice presently from a minus quantity.
THE DISTRIBUTION OF WEALTH. 61
commodity. In the long run, probably the price of these
elements determines that of the commodity and not vice versa.
Some of them act more slowly than others, and all act
clumsily and roughly ; but all probably act in the long run.
It is different when we turn to the surplus left to each
producer. Here we have to do with rewards determined
by price and not determining it. It is sometimes dijficult
to say what earns these rewards. Sometimes they seem
due to pure luck. Others depend on the special abilities or
sagacity of a captain of industry. Others on the monopoly
of an invention. Others again on situation. We may,
however, distinguish the persons who receive the surplus.
One in general is the ground landlord on whose land the
undertaking is carried on, and as situation is an important
factor in success, ground rents, whether in country* or
town, take up an important part of the surplus. The other re-
cipient is in general the entrepreneur, who undertakes the risk
of the enterprise. But of course entrepreneur and landlord
may be one individual (as in the case of a peasant proprietor),
or there may be many recipients, as in some profit-sharing
schemes. And it is important to notice that some factors
in the production of the surplus are tangible, their value
measurable, and the returns to them nearly constant. Such,
for instance, is situation. Other factors, like keen business
sagacity, are less easy to measure, and get a variable return.
This distinction becomes of practical importance when
any attempt is made to control the distribution of the
surplus.
For the average producer, then, the returns of his industry
may be theoretically divided into two portions — that which
reimburses the expenses of production and U surplus over
and above, varying in amount. This division, we have seen,
is independent of human institutions, though human insti-
tutions may determine who shall receive it. In one way
* In the country of course the value of the land and hence the rent,
depends largely on previous investments of capital in the soil.
62 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
human institutions or efforts also affect the amount of the
surplus. Not only may they increase or decrease the
productivity of labour, but they affect the cost of production.
For example, if interest is lowered by the general progress
of social security, one element in the cost of production is
reduced and it tends to fall, leaving an increased producer's
surplus for the entrepreneur^ landlord, or other recipient.
Conversely, a rise in the price of any of the elements
determining cost of production tends to raise that cost and
lower the surplus. In this way only, it appears, can
alterations in the supply prices of any general agents of
production affect the quantity of the producer's surplus.
Having thus briefly sketched the effect of free competition
on the distribution of w^ealth, let us consider how it affects
the welfare of society. We have seen that the two first
essentials of a thoroughly economical system of production
would be that only good and useful commodities should bo
produced, and that all the producers of such commodities
should be remunerated at a suitable rate — the elements for
determining which we discussed in Chapter II. Now, at
first sight, it would appear that both these conditions are
satisfied by the competitive system. To begin with, under
such a system, nothing can be repeatedly and continually
produced in excess of the demand for it. The actual con-
sumers, it would appear, call forth and regulate the supply,
and each man being the best judge of his own interests,
who can be so fit to determine how many shoes are to be
made as those who are going to wear them ? In the second
place, the price of an article cannot permanently fall short
of the cost of producing it, that is, it must be at least
enough to give a " fair " rate of remuneration to aU parties
engaged in producing it, and tliat, be it remembered, to the
parties who produce it under the greatest possible dis-
advantages, our generous system leaving an ample surplus
to more favoured or gifted individuals.
So much for the credit account. What of the per contra?
TUB DISTRIBUTION OF WEALTH. 63
Take first the correlation of Demand and Supply on which
all hinges. The salient fact here is that this correlation
is effected indirectly and almost unconsciously. There are
few things more capricious and incalculable than the modern
market. Cotton is " flat" and wool is " brisk," and nobody
really knows why. Shrewd men can make a guess ; they
can look forward a little way, but at best they are like men
groping in the dark, who know the road to be clear as far as
the hand can reach, but can never tell what blank wall they
may not touch at any step. The truth is, that though
demand ultimately governs supply, it has to use very indirect
means, and very rough means. To use an old comparison,
it is like a force working under a great deal of friction. The
individualist producer of old days was a market to himself.
He lived, as it were, apart, not only " Cyclops- wise, govern
ing wife and children," but also in true Cyclops fashion,
producing just his own needs. He delved and his wife span
as they required. They knew what they wanted, and pro-
cured it by their toil, and they had the fruits of their toil as
its reward. A very uneconomical system of industry from
the point of view of production, but presenting some merits
from that of distribution. In modern industry we have
changed all that. The modern individualist producer sows
that another may reap, and that whether he is wage-
earner or employer. The essence of the modern system, of
which Exchange is the central feature, is that I produce
what I think you will buy at an advantage to myself.
Whether I am a farmer, merchant, millowner, or shopkeeper,
the same holds. You do not set me to work, but I set to
work myself in the hope that you wjU want what I make.'''
Meanwhile others are setting to work in the same way.
* The truth of this is not sensibly affected by the fact that a large
number of goods are made to order. For a whole apparatus — human
and inanimate — is kept in readiness for orders, and the amount kept is
based on calculation of the probable amount of the orders. Hence the
loss, if orders do not come, is nearly as great as though the finished pro-
duct had been already turned out.
64 TEE LABOUR MOVEMENT
Now if I have made a good guess at what you want, I make
a large profit. If a bad one, I may be ruined. In the first
case, too little of the desired commodity is being produced ;
in the second, too much. In either case the discrepancy
from the required amount tends to right itself, but in the
meanwhile one set of men are ruined while others retire with
a fortune. This is the nature of the friction under which
competition acts in adjusting supply to demand. Men's
lives are the brake upon the wheel.
Let us consider this in close connection with the theory of
value. We have seen that for short periods value is de-
termined by the equilibrium of demand and supply and has
no connection with cost of production. We have seen that
the price thus fixed may be too low to remunerate certain of
the producers, and that in the long run these will retire from
the market. But at what time and at what cost ? If
the operation of competition were swift and decisive we
should have little to charge against it on this count, but the
''long period" in question may extend over years during
which time a whole trade is disorganised, employers are
contending miserably with forces that are too strong for
them and wage-earners are pinched. See how this works
out. The price of an article is fixed for a short period, say
three months, by the equilibration of demand and supply at
a price which does not remunerate a millowner. If he
could at once contract his production or close his mill and
transfer his capital elsewhere, all would work well. Supply
would fall off to the required amount and the remaining
members of the trade would receive a good profit. But he
is not in a position to do anything of the sort. His capital
is locked up. He has acquired certain special business
aptitudes and a certain connection. You cannot turn a
cotton manufacturer into a farmer, nor a cotton mill into a
coal mine. When you are able to do that, competition will
begin to work without friction. The result is that the mill-
owner will make a desperate effort to struggle on. Not only
THE DISTRIBUTION OF WEALTH. 66
SO, but he may resort to desperate expedients, endeavouring
to make up for diminished prices by increasing his output,
or to attract customers by underselling. Each step plunges
him deeper into the mire. In both ways he still further
diminishes the price of the article and he plunges others
into the same difficulties. The struggle may, if the gods
are merciful, be short and sharp, and in that case ruin and
bankruptcy follow at once. Eich men lose everything ;
large stocks of machinery and costly buildings become
worthless, hundreds of workmen are turned out into the
street. Yet nobody really was in fault. The crisis is worse
the further it is prolonged, for it means years of depres-
sion of trade, irregularity of employment, falling wages, and
vanishing profits. Such is the "friction" which attends
the working of competition. It does not last for a time
and then cease, but is continually going on ; it is the peren-
nial sore of the body politic ; the source of haggard
anxiety, beggary, and confusion. In point of simple pounds,
shillings, and pence, the loss it inflicts on the nation is incal-
culable. It all depends on the non-adjustment of supply to
demand. From the absence of any machinery for correlating
these it follows that prices may for months, or even for
years, remain below cost of production to the continual loss
of the producer, bearing effects which we all see.
The first object, then, of a wise regulation of industry
would be to adjust supply to demand, and to fix the price
of every article at its marginal supply cost. It may be impos-
sible to do this directly, but it is easier to smooth over the
friction of the adjustment. And this, as we have seen, is
being done by Co-operation, voluntary, " municipal," or
national, i.e., through the control of production by con-
sumers. Meanwhile we have other defects to notice in the
competitive system.
Let us suppose the marginal cost of production deter-
mined and maintained without fluctuation by competition
so that the losses attendant on fluctuation may be put out of
6
66 THE LABOUB MOVEMENT.
mind for the moment. Will everything then go smoothly ?
Cost of production, remember, includes the elements of wages
for labour, skill, and management ; the compensation for Eisk
and the interest on Capital. Now will the cost of produc-
tion be fixed at a rate which will provide due remuneration
for all of these? And, again, supposing this condition
satisfied, will the competition of these several factors for
their portion of the price distribute it in the justest way,
that is, in the way most useful to the community ? Not to
go into the full theory of this aspect of distribution, con-
sider the operation of unrestricted self-interest on one
factor in the cost of production, the wages of labour, and
contrast it with the effect of combination already considered.
To understand this we must, as in Chapter II., regard
Labour as a commodity which the labourers possess and
are ready to sell to the highest bidder. Now supposing
the labourer and the employer in an equally advantageous
position for bargaining, wages will be fixed for short periods
by the equilibrium of demand and supply. And we saw
that in the case of material commodities the equilibrium
price bore no relation to cost of production, and might leave
the producer in a bad plight. So it is with wages. The market
wage for short periods bears very little relation '■' to the
needs and comforts of the labourer who sells his work and
may leave him in a very bad plight. In practice the iron
rule of demand and supply is relaxed in the case of wages
by two causes. The first is the influence of custom or even
charity which may assign more to labour than mere competi-
tion would exact. The second is the vast economic advan-
tage which the great majority of employers have over average
unorganised labourers, an advantage parallel to those of a
horsedealer over a tyro, and enabling the employer as a
rule to buy labour very much cheaper than would be pos-
sible if the labourer were equally able to forecast the market
* It is too much to say there is no relation. The wage even for a week
must, as a rule, be enough to keep the labourer from starving.
THE DISTBIBUTION OF WEALTH. 67
and to await a favourable turn. This acts as a permanent
force depressing the rate of wages, and we have, in short,
one of the most important cases in which " free " competition
as above defined ij a delusion. And now notice further two
peculiarities about labour as a marketable commodity. First
the long period in which its price is adjusted to the *' cost
of producing it " is abnormally long. A low rate of wage
in a given trade tends to discourage the supply of labour for
that trade, but especially if the low rate be spread over
many trades or all the trades of a country, the operation of
this tendency occupies something like a generation in work-
ing itself out, being achieved in the latter case, partly by dis-
couragement of marriage, more by emigration, and most of
all by increased mortality, especially among young children.
This, of course, is simply a form of economic friction. How-
ever, whether quick or slow, by pestilence or famine, the
tendency probably does work itself out and supply is re-
duced to meet a lowered demand. But meanwhile a second
important peculiarity of labour as a marketable commodity
has been manifesting itself, viz., the effect already insisted on,
of wages on the efficiency of the labourer.
Confining ourselves to the economic aspect of this we shall
find that the productivity of labour is diminished by every
drain upon the labourer's strength due to insufficient food,
bad housing, or unhealthy occupations. And the productivity
of labour is one factor in determining its reward, inasmuch as
it determines the total of which labour receives a portion.
Hence decreased productivity tends to further decrease of
wages, and we have, in fine, one of those cases of cumulative
action to which Professor Marshall has carefully drawn atten-
tion. Observe : a low rate of wageB diminishes the produc-
tivity of labour; diminished productivity tends in turn to lower
wages, and so on, in a vicious circle. Conversely, increased
wages and increased productivity tend to augment one
another, and so on, in a circle of hope. Economic injuries,
as General Walker has shown us, tend to perpetuate them-
68 THE LABOVB MOVEMENT.
selves, and the same may be said of economic gains. The
result is that under a competitive system, the wages of
labour do not necessarily right themselves at all. Supply
v^ill, indeed, slowly tend to adjust itself to demand, but, to
say nothing of the bloodshed by the way, if the labourer's
remuneration is below the minimum necessary to a certain
development in mind and body, the tendency of free competi-
tion will be not to raise him to a level with that mini-
mum, but to depress him further below it. The equilibrium
wage will sink. I conclude, then, that while it is of the last
importance that the mass of workers should have a suffi-
ciency for health of mind and body, there is no necessary
tendency in the action of competition to assign them such a
sufficiency, and I appeal to common experience to decide
whether it does assign a sufficiency to half the workers in
the United Kingdom to-day.
For these deficiencies of free competition we have already
discussed the remedy. The grand cause depressing " free
labour " is here seen to be the economic weakness of the
labourer himself, and it is precisely this that Trade Unionism
corrects. The more clearly it is seen that industrial anarchy
tends to depress great masses of the workers and exclude
them from their due reward as servants of society the
greater is the need for the control of work and wages by
Trade Unionism.
Now supposing the rate of remuneration fixed ; supposing
that workers of every class have obtained for themselves a
" fair " average remuneration, taking into account, in
accordance with our original principles, not only the neces-
saries of life, but also the claims of effort, skill, and brain
power ; supposing, therefore, that the employing class has
also fixed a " fair " average wage for itself — there will still
be a considerable surplus of wealth to consider not absorbed
by the payment of wages.
The first element in the surplus is profit proper, and con-
Bists in what Professor Marshall has called the quasi Eent
THE LISTBIBUTION OF WEALTH. 69
of commercial ability and monopoly, to which we should add
good fortune. We have seen that the individualist employer
after paying labour, rent, and interest, and after receiving a
sufficient wage for his own extremely hard work of manage-
ment, mayor may not find himself in possession of a surplus,
large or small. This surplus depends partly on his skill and
efforts, partly on mere luck. It actually varies in amount,
as we have seen, from zero to any quantity. It is the
" fringe " of the national dividend where expansion and con-
traction have their first effects. If we could bring together
all the industries of the country into a single hand, this
fringe would take the form of a very large surplus ; if,
however, we conceive the industrial management of the
country to remain in its present condition the "fringe"
will present itself as though cut very irregularly along
the surface of industry. In one business the surplus
will be enormous, in another there will be none at all, in
a third will be a positive loss. This we can see is a very
uneconomical arrangement, enriching some people beyond
what is needful for the highest happiness, and ruining
others to their own misery and the derangement of trade.
A small difference of ability, a slight turn of luck, and one
man makes his fortune while another is ruined. The result
is that neither is happy. Neither beggary nor princely
wealth conduce best to a happy and well-ordered life. For
the wealth made there is no tangible increase of happiness
or development to show. Meanwhile the lure of profit-
making corrupts all industry and changes honest work into
a constant struggle to get more and more, and an unceasing
effort to over-reach others. Nor does the evil cease with
the producer. When money becomes the test of success,
and I am held to have proved myself a better man than you
if I have earned more, then the signs of wealth are held the
proofs of merit and ability, and display becomes the first
object for men of means. There is not one class in England
at this day that is not infested by this taint. It corrupts
70 THE LABOUB MOVEMENT,
the life, mars the comfort, poisons the social gatherings,
destroys the simplicity of men and women from the cottage
to the castle. It fills the world with ugliness and discomfort.
And if in part it is due to a permanent human weakness, it
is fostered and cherished into a hideous growth by the
modern development of the profit-seeking spirit. We have
to quarrel, then, both with the distribution of the producer's
surplus as affected by competition, and with the results to
character which such a mode of distribution brings about.
Now what are the compensatory benefits of the system of
private profit ? Eegarding profit as the wages of the employer
— the wages allowed him by society under the economic
system which it supports — we have to ask, Is it the most
economical method of payment ? So far as the employer's
profit depends on luck — i.e., on causes beyond his control —
there is clearly no economic advantage to society whatsoever
in awarding it to him ; so far as the prospect of additional
gain stimulates him to socially useful exertion society does
obtain a certain qtcid pro quo. But, in the first place, the
individual employer, aiming at his own profit, does not neces-
sarily use means thereto which contribute to the general
welfare. If, for example, he is able by skilful advertisement
to palm off inferior goods on the public, his profit is due to
his sagacity or cunning, but not to any real social service.
To lie well requires consummate art to which in some
departments of modern industry a life -time may be profit-
ably devoted, but it does not conduce to the general comfort.
Thus, if honest employers make an honourable profit by
useful work directed with great abiUty, and are paid less
than the value of their services, we must set against them
the dishonest traders who profit at the expense of their own
uprightness and the general well-being, and who are en-
couraged thereto by many of the circumstances of modern
commerce.
But further, it may be doubted if the individualist system
either checks the bad or encourages the good in the best
THE DISTRIBUTION OF WEALTH. 71
way. The stakes are too high. Men stand to win or lose
their all. They oscillate between riches and beggary. As
a class our modern captains of industry are not to be envied.
They bear the first brunt of commercial storms. They are
subject to repeated periods of strain and over-pressure.
The ups and downs of fortune tell on their mental and
physical health. It has even been doubted whether the
individualist system of industry does not most afflict those
who are generally supposed to gain by it most.
We see, then, that the system which leaves the producers'
surplus as a prize to be fought for may stimulate good work,
but it also cherishes sinister arts. It distributes its rewards
in a way that causes over- strain and worry, even to the
favoured ones. It produces a competitive spirit concen-
trated on personal gain instead of public good. And in the
train of all this come the evils we discussed before, the
repeated disorganisation of industry, and the consequent loss
of capital and deterioration of labour. What is needed, then,
is to communise the surplus products of industry. The
losses of industrial enterprise will then be balanced against
its gains. Loss will still be loss, but it will not spell ruin.
The community has broader shoulders than the individual.
And since in the long run the products of industry do exceed
the cost of producing them by a very large amount, this
net gain will fall to society at large. Distributed by com-
petition, it is a source of net unhappiness. Communised, it
is an advantage to every one. Let me not be understood to
advocate the under-paying of the employer or business-
manager. His work to be well done requires great industry
and high ability, and we shall not gain as a community by
niggardliness in rewarding it. I ussume only that we can
get good work done for fixed salaries suitably determined by
the quantity and quality of the work required. It is an
assumption which is indeed denied by laissez faire econo-
mists, but warranted by all knowledge of human nature
working under good institutions. There is no reason why
72 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
Mill's ideal should not yet be realised and men learn to dig
and weave for their country as well as to fight for it. And
if men can dig and weave for a fixed wage and exert them-
selves to earn it well, men can also follow earnestly and
strenuously the higher calling of guiding those who dig and
weave. This is not a dream, nor even a supposition. It is
matter of fact realised in many departments of industry to-
day. In medicine, in the churches, in education, wherever
men feel an interest in the work as well as in its wage, work
is given gladly and willingly to the utmost of a man's power
for a fixed reward. And the same holds in industry pure
and simple. Take the co-operative world where as Mrs.
Webb has well pointed out we have men dealing with
millions of money, carrying on complicated operations on
a vast scale for the salary of a clerk. There are in truth
other motives to action than those of direct and pro-
portionate pecuniary reward. There is the prospect of
advancement, of social esteem, of the pure love of work, and
of the desire to serve society. There are motives mercenary,
and motives of devotion. These last are indeed diminished
by a social system which makes material success the main
object of respect, and tends to regard devotion to the public
service as either humbug or simplicity. But they can never
be extinct, and we have but to curtail the field of the other
impulses which compete with them in human nature, and
they will of themselves expand to all their original vigour.
Thus free competition distributes the profits of industry
so as to do the minimum of good at the maximum of cost.
To be made socially useful " profits " must be communised,
and as above shown profits are being communised by every
extension of co-operation and of national or municipal enter-
prise.
But besides ** Profit " in the narrower sense, there is a
second element in the surplus product not yet consid.^-red.
While profits are fickle and variable a great portion of the
excess of value produced over the cost of producing it goes
THE DISTBIBUTION OF WEALTH, 73
to private pockets in fixed charges. And it will continue to
do so however much you communise profit. A Co-operative
Society must pay interest on its capital and rent on its
premises. A municipality must purchase or rent land for
its public works. Now Rent is the price paid for differential
advantages in production to those who own such advantages.
And " economic Eent " there always is and always must be.
For, as we have shown, some goods are bound to be pro-
duced under more favourable circumstances than others
which are brought to the same market. This advantage
may be due to various things, such as fertility or situation,
and the owners of such advantages can exact a price for the
use of them. No legislation can abolish economic rent.
But the law can and does determine who shall receive it.
And the question is. Does the law do wisely in allowing
private individuals to absorb this enormous portion of the
national produce? In answering this w^e need make no
attack on the owners of Rents. They may be most estim-
able men, and many of them may, of their free choice, be
doing good service to society. But the point is that they
form a permanent charge upon the '' National Dividend,"
for which no adequate return is made and for which no
return need be made at all.
In many cases the value for which rent is paid is due to
natural causes and not to human effort. Of this Mining
Royalties are a conspicuous example. In other cases it is
due to the growth of society, as instanced by the price of
land in the City of London. Whenever we pay for value so
created we get no compensatory service rendered, and we
thus violate the first principle of a sound economic system.
Another portion of the value for which rent is paid may
indeed be due to human effort, as in the case of wise im-
provements carried out on his estate by a good landlord.
But here again the law of inheritance makes it possible to
hand on the fruits of such work to heirs who have done
nothing. And the community is thus saddled with the sup-
74 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
port of men who 7ieed do nothing in return for it. The same
holds of interest. If capital is first created by human skill
and forethought, the heirs of capital may be wise or foolish,
able or incompetent, but as long as their capital stands in
their names they will get the same rate of interest proper.
In the case, then, of the majority of the rent and interest
paid by society no compensatory social services need be
rendered in return. And it is important to remember that
the same truth holds whether we pay £100,000 a year to a
Duke or cut up his estate and pay £100 a year to a thousand
petty yeomen. The yeoman is able to hand on his property
in the same way, and thus, even if he first gave it its value,
we shall have to pay his heirs to the ding of doom for the
condescension of allowing themselves to be born. Nothing
is gained by substituting a number of petty owners — who
are not always found to make better use of their position —
for the one big owner.
An objection may be raised here that Eent and Interest
do not stand on the same footing. Interest, it may be said,
is earned by the previous accumulation of capital. Thus it
is paid not for services immediately rendered, but for services
that have been rendered. Eent, on the other hand, is paid
for the use of gifts of nature or for value due purely to the
growth of society, and the rent-owner may never have per-
formed any service whatever. He may be a mere burden
on the land. Again, it may be urged that as economic factors
they are very different. Interest enters into cost of pro-
duction, and goes to determine price, while Eent is deter-
mined by price. This last point is true,''' and may serve to
point the necessity for a difference in the practical method
of treatment. Interest is only part of the "surplus" of
wealth, if in the surplus we include everything that n mains
when the actual workers (managers included) are paid. But
the question now before us is whether there is any ethical
* At least of such portions of '• actual rent " as correspond to
'• economic rent."
THE DISTBIBUTION OF WEALTH. 75
difference between Eent and Interest. Free competition
places both in private hands, often accumulating enormous
quantities of both in the hands of one man. Is this desir-
able ? And is it any more desirable in one case than in the
other ?
So far as Eent is really " Unearned " the case against it
may be considered stronger. If any practical method can
be found of fixing the point from which we are to begin
calculating the Unearned Increment, well and good. There
would be a strong case for attacking this part of the surplus
first. It would be the clearest of all the many cases in
which society obligingly hands over a handsome present to
a few fortunate individuals. Similarly it is eminently desir-
able that we should take immediate steps to secure all such
future increment to ourselves as a community.
But the problem does not end with the confiscation of the
Unearned Increment. A great quantity of Eent is practi-
cally indistinguishable from Interest on Capital, and Interest
itself takes an enormous share of the national income.
Now morally and economically it can make little difference
whether these large sums are paid for past services or not.
By far the greater amount is not now paid to those who
did the services. The principle of the inheritance of private
property creates a lien on the industry of all future time
for the descendants of every man who accumulates wealth.
This is too great a price to pay for thrift. It is too
heavy a burden for society to bear. The whole economic
system groans under the load.
We have seen that the movement hitherto considered
would not really touch this part pf the national wealth.
The difficulty is not met either by raising wages to a
''Trades Union level" or by the utmost extension of co-
operative and municipal enterprise. However far we go in
this direction we should still be paying toll to the amount
of nearly half our annual income for the privilege of living
in England and using the stock of wealth accumulated by
76 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
our fathers. But we may indicate the principles on which
the problem of Eent and Interest as a whole may be, and
probably soon will be, dealt with by the State, in further-
ance of the collective control of industry and its products
by the community, which, as we have tried to show, is the
underlying idea of all forms of the Labour movement. We
confine ourselves merely to the statement of principles,
which are in themselves comparatively simple, though their
application is endlessly complex, and will no doubt form
one of the chief practical difficulties of the coming years.
An economically worked system of industry would, I
think, establish the principle that payment should be made
for services rendered and to those by whom they are
rendered. The surplus left over it would communise. We
should not advocate this on the ground of any objection to
wealth as such. It would matter little how wealthy the
few might be so long as the many were not poor, and so
long as provision was made for all socially useful objects.
There is no spite in the Labour movement of to-day, but
there is a strong sense of the poverty and misery around us,
and a clear conviction that a better use might be made of
our enormous wealth. We have no wish to send the rich
empty away, but cost what it may, we are determined to
fill the hungry with some of the good things of life.
Thus we do not object to wealth as wealth. Nor do we
object to the present system on the ground of equity, though
if there be such a thing as equity surely its simplest canons
are violated by the extremes of fortune and the accidents of
inheritance. Nor is it merely that the existence of idle
luxury conflicts with the democratic ideal of society as
an association in which rights and duties fall to all alike,
though it does flagrantly conflict with such an ideal. But
beyond all this there is the question w^hcther the recognition
of inherited property in its present form and extent is com-
patible with the performance of the duties which society
owes to its members. Holding, as we do, that the rights of
THE DISTBIBUTION OF WEALTH. 77
property are wholly dependent for their binding force on the
purposes which they subserve in the social system, we have
to ask whether these purposes can be adequately fulj&lled as
long as hundreds of millions yearly go to private persons
for the use of wealth that is due partly to nature and partly
to the efforts of their fathers.
Just so far then as higher social exigencies necessitate we
are bound to reduce our " tribute," and revert to the prin-
ciple of paying only for services rendered, and only to him
who renders them. But how are we to effect the change ?
How can we deal with the actual proprietors of Eent and
Interest who have grown, as it were, to their present place
in the economic system, and could hardly now fit them-
selves into another? Every possible method of dealing
with the problem presents great difficulties, but two things
may be laid down as matters of principle. We shall avoid
dealing hardly with existing owners, but when there is a
conflict of claims we shall set justice to the community
above the established interests of a class.
No sweeping interference with private property is either
possible or desirable. We do not in England proceed by
the crude methods of revolution and confiscation. We
could not, without gross hardships to individuals and
danger to the public, confiscate at a blow the Land and
Capital of the country, and we should not know what to do
with it if we could. In time the community will become
the chief, perhaps the sole owner, of Capital and Land.
But it will be by gradual steps. The progress of public
enterprise admits of indefinite extension, and at each step
some fragment of Land or Capital passes to the community.
And on each occasion fair compensation will be given. But
it may be asked, *' How does this rid us of the burden? "
If compensation is to be given, surely Capital and Eent
remain in essence, drawing an undiminished tribute from
the worker.
The answer is, first, that the compensation in question is
78 THE LABOUB MOVEMENT.
raised by taxation, and we can adjust taxation as we please.
If we take the view of Eent, Interest, and Profits advanced in
this chapter, we shall regard them as the natural reservoir
from which wealth is to be drawn for all public purposes.
That is, we should adjust taxation to fall exclusively on the
surplus of industry, and not at all on "wages" — in their
broadest sense. Leaving the smaller incomes as free as pos-
sible, we should graduate the income tax so as to fall most
heavily on those who are getting the largest share of Rent,
Interest, and Profit.* We should find another point for the ap-
plication of our principle in the death duties, and (if we do not
deal more drastically with the Unearned Increment) in the
taxation of Ground Rents. In this way we should make
Eent and Interest pay for their own extinction. We should
inflict no overwhelming loss on any individuals or any class
of living persons, as would happen if we pitched on one
particular form of property — say Land or Railways — and
took them without compensation. There would be no
spoliation, but readjustment of taxation on a new principle.
And the ground landlord has no more right to complain
when the tax collector comes his way than I have to cry out
when the Chancellor of the Exchequer puts an extra penny
on my income tax.
It might further be suggested that compensation should
take the form of terminable annuities. With every respect
for the rights of the living, I do not know that we need
weep for the losses of generations yet unborn. If instead of
giving a lump sum or 2^ per cent, on that sum for ever we
allowed such higher percentage as might be considered fair to
the owner for his life (or even for the life of his next heir),
the temporary burden would be slightly increased, but the
* This would in part apply even to the smaller owners of Interest. The
reasonable thrift which provides for old age and sickness, and we might
add for wife and child, performs at present a social function of the first
importance. Until the State is prepared to undertake this duty in its
entirety, it must be careful not to discourage such individuals as are now
performing it for themselves and those dependent on them.
THE DISTBIBUTION OF WEALTH. 79
future would be entirely free. I conclude that it is possible
gradually to comiQunise Land and Capital without recourse to
revolutionary meihods, by the extension of public enterprise
and the readjustment of taxation. I do not profess to do
more than indicate the broad principles upon which such
" communising " is advocated, and on which it might con-
ceivably be carried out with the least amount of friction and
hardship. The real difficulty is, of course, in the practical
applications, with which we are not dealing at present.* It
is our business merely to discuss the results to which we are
led by applying the principles of the collective control of
industry for the common good to the case of private pro-
perty in Eent and Interest, and one result is simply that the
principle of collective ownership will have to be very greatly
extended in this direction if the movement to economic
reform is to achieve all that it promises.
We have now considered all the main elements in the
disposition of the national dividend, and we have tried to
show that the various forms of the ''Labour Movt^ment"
previously discussed would deal far better with them, in the
interests of society, than the forces of Private Enterprise
and Free Competition. The Eemuneration of the Workers
(of every kind) being fixed by the Trade Unions in agree-
ment with the public at large, the surplus remaining would
pass to the community for common purposes ; the profits of
enterprise going to communities of consumers, whether in
the form of Co-operative Societies, Municipal Bodies, or the
State ; while Eent and Interest would go directly to the
Municipality or the Nation. Thus each branch of the
Labour Movement has its appropriate part of the general
problem to work out, and tends to supplement the short-
comings of the others.
* Of these the graduation of the Death Duties in 1894 may serve as a
sufficient example.
CHAPTER V.
THE CONTROL OF INDUSTRY AND THE LIBERTY
OF THE INDIVIDUAL.
Let us now review our position. Let us suppose the
principles we have advocated to be recognised and carried
out to their logical conclusion, and let us try to picture the
resulting state of industry. The work of the nation would
then be carried on under the direction of communities of
consumers. There would be the great national works
developed from those which exist at present. There would
be probably a still greater development of municipal works,
and there would be, supplementing these, voluntarily formed
co-operative associations on the existing model, united by the
Federal principle and, ultimately, co-extensive with the com-
munity. We shall advance in all three directions with
varying rapidity, but steadily and simultaneously. In each
case suitable remuneration and healthy conditions of work
will be ensured for all classes of producers by good legisla-
tion, backed up and supplemented by strong Trade Union
action. The surplus product when this charge is met will
be in the hands of the community for common purposes,
that there may be the means of life for the infirm, and of
culture and enjoyment for all, and the ceaseless wearying
roar of the great engine of competition would be still.
Will such an ideal ever become actual ? As to its com-
plete realisation I answer, " No one can tell, and it is not
80
THE CONTBOL OF INDUSTBY, 81
our business to find out." What concerns us to-day is, not
the possibiUty of a complete ideal, but the practical value
and immediate promise of certain existing tendencies.
Here are certain great economic evils which all deplore, and
here are certain movements aiming at reform. Are these
movements actually doing good? Do they promise, if
developed along the same lines, to go to the root of the
matter ? These are the questions which we have tried to
answer, and which we have seen reason to answer in the
affirmative. If this answer be justified, then, whatever
changes the future may necessitate, these movements form
for the present the means of progress.
Thus we may readily admit difficulties in applying the co-
operative form of industry to'every department of production.
In the case of foreign trade, for example, co-operation of
consumers to arrange for production " would seem almost
out of the question, unless in some far-off Federation of the
world which is yet but a dream. Again, in the case of some
professions and other occupations, the principle seems some-
what out of place, and is not likely to be realised unless in
some modified form. In short, wherever the industrial revo-
lution has not set its mark, and where industry passes beyond
the limits of the nation, collective control by consumers
becomes a difficult matter. The case of Agriculture is one
of special interest in this relation, and it is worth while to
discuss a little more fully the way in which our principles
seem capable of application in its case. Co-operative farm-
ing has made some progress, though not much. Last year
thirty-eight co-operative societies farmed 3,315 acres in
Great Britain.! And perhaps the co-operative mills of to-day
will take their corn from co-operative farms to-morrow.
* Transport, however, is already undertaken by the Wholesale Societies
in ships of their own.
t See the Report of the Twenty-fourth Co-operative Congress, 1892,
pp. 23 and 32. The figures given exclude " IndividuaHst " (profit-sharing)
Societies, i.e., refer to farms worked ultimately by " distributive stores."
Stores occupying less than ten acres are also excluded.
7
82 THE LABOUB MOVEMENT.
But it is too early to form any idea of the progress possible
or likely in this direction.
Meanwhile there is, at first sight, a strong drift of things
in the other direction. We seem to be rapidly sprinkling
England with individualist producers of the old mediaeval
type. Allotments and Small Holdings seem to many people
opposed not only to every principle of " Collectivism," but
to the whole tendency of the Industrial Kevolution. But
this is not altogether the case. The small occupier himself
is an individuahst producer no doubt. And a system of
yeomanry or peas».nt proprietorship would doubtless bring
back many of the evils, ethical and economical, of primitive
individualism. But with communal ownership a very dif-
ferent system is introduced, and com-munal ownership is
already adopted as the principle of a great pohtical party —
even though that party has not yet taken the final step of repu-
diating every opposing principle. In the case of agriculture
rent takes the greater share of the surplus product. As
owners and rent -receivers, then, the community will exercise
some of the most important rights and duties of collective
control. Of course this supposes that we are not to be
satisfied with a simple quit rent to be fixed once and for
ever. Such a plan would be only one degree better than a
system of complete purchase. We have surely learnt
enough by sad experience of the folly of fixing payments for
variable values. Agricultural values are constantly shifting
in relation to money, and if we fixed rents to-day, thirty
years hence our tenants might be in possession of great un-
earned increments, or — what is just as likely — on their knees
to us to relieve them of an overgrown burden. The small-
holder must have fixity of tenure, but subject to revision of
rents at stated periods of considerable length, with allow-
ance for all improvements made by the occupier. In this
way the community will absorb its due share of the produce
— the surplus over the remuneration of the worker.
In the case of agriculture, then, our principle can be
THE CONTEOL OF INDUSTRY, 83
carried out in some of its most important featm-es. As to
the other cases mentioned it might not be impossible to sug-
gest means for its application ; but, as we have tried to make
clear, our purpose is to discuss existing tendencies and their
value when completely carried out. If we go beyond them
we are in danger of imagining a vain thing. Nor need we
be at pains to work out in our heads a perfectly finished
political order, rounded off in every direction. Of such
Utopias the only thing that can be predicted with certainty
is that they will always be Utopias. It is sufficient to show
the tendencies of a system, tendencies even now clearly
visible, and which will work out wider and greater results at
every stage of their realisation, though that realisation may
never be completed. And let us, above all, remember that
the accomplishment of any considerable part of our hopes
will open wider vistas of progress, will create new problems
of its own, and demand undreamt-of methods of solution.
No human system ever yefc existed in completeness. One
after another has grown and decayed, and none has stood
still in self-satisfied fulness of development. Like "the
waves in the moonlit solitudes mild of the mid-most ocean,"
they swell and pass before we have measured the height of
their crest. Only human society under wise human direc-
tion does not rise to fall again with the ceaseless iteration of
the ocean waves. The tide of movement sweeps us higher
at each great pulsation ; it pauses, but it does not sink, and
it changes its course only to find easier inlets to the shore.
We must then content ourselves with a limited view of
the future, and must not strain our eyes to see the invisible.
It is enough for us to trace the tendencies of our principles
to the farthest point discernible, to se'e how they harmonise
and supplement each other, and how the application of them
would meet the economic evils of the day. If we never get
perfection it is well to get as near it as possible.
¥/e ought however to meet in advance one or two theo-
retical objections which are almost certain to arise. It will
84 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT. .
be said, first, that economic laws render our ideals impos-
sible. This objection may mean two or three things. It
may mean generally that sound economics are opposed to
such views. If that is so we must of course have the par-
ticular discrepancies pointed out before we can reply to them.
It may mean again that economic laws are as inevitable as
those of arithmetic or astronomy, that it is equally hopeless
to contend against them ; that these laws have produced the
present state of society, and that the said state of society
cannot therefore be modified by human effort. Against this
hypothetical but not unlikely objection, the reply simply is
that it rests on a misconception of the idea of law. A law
in economics, as in any other science, simply states what
has resulted, and is expected to result, from certain condi-
tions— what will be the effect of a given cause. Political
economy traces the existing state of industry, distribution
of wealth, &c., to certain causes, and says that given those
causes the effects follow inevitably. Very likely, but sup-
pose we can control the causes ? Given free competition,
enormous inequalities of wealth are inevitable. Doubtless,
but suppose we can supersede competition by an intelligent
control of industry ? We cannot argue from what happens
now to what would happen under changed conditions. The
fields of economic and much other scientific thought are
strewn with the bones of those who have tried to reach
truth by this method, and have perished intellectually in
the attempt.
In a somewhat similar spirit it is sometimes said that
political economy /ai;o^^rs free competition. This idea still
seems to work confusedly in the inner fogs of many minds,
but it is about as intelligible as to say that physiology
favours disease, or astronomy the motion of the earth round
the sun. Political economy has emerged as a science at a
period when free industrial enterprise has been more widely
extended than heretofore, and accordingly it has been mainly
concerned to examine the phenomena that arise under a
THE CONTBOL OF INDUSTBY. S5
competitive regime. But political economy is concerned
purely with the ascertainment of facts. It tells us, or tries
to tell us, what happens under given economic conditions.
It does not tell us what ought to happen, what would be
most desirable in the general interests. It does not, as a
pure science, favour any one form of industrial organisation
rather than another. And if any political economist does
show such favour we can only say, that qua political
economist he has no business to do any such thing. The
whole notion implies an entire misunderstanding of the
nature of science as an attempt to interpret existing facts
as it finds them. The ordinary " scientific " objections to
collectivist reforms are, in fact, the objections of pseudo-
science.
There is however one specific form of the economic objec-
tion which we can hardly expect to escape. The population-
theory has been erected into a bulwark against almost all
theories of progress since the days of Malthus, and it is hardly
to be supposed that the Labour movement of to-day will be
allowed to pass unchallenged. I shall be told that this reck-
less ministering to human life and comfort, this monstrous
preservation of the incompetent, will have as its inevitable
result the increase of population which must infallibly lead
to increased poverty. Observe the reasoning here. There
are more mouths to fill; therefore there is less for each.
Quite so, if the whole stock of food remains the same, but
how if the supply of food increases as fast as the population,
or faster ? Is not this possible since each new consumer is
(or is to be) also a new producer. No, I shall be told ; the
Law of Diminishing Keturns prevents this. Put ten men
to labour on a farm and you get a certain return. Add ten
more next year and you get a larger return, but not twice as
large. You have doubled your labour, but you will find the
produce less than double. And this gets worse the further
we go on. Ten men, say, could produce enough from the
farm to live in comfort. Twenty men produce enough to keep
S6 THE LABOVB MOVEMENT,
fifteen in comfort. Then five will be underfed. Thirty men's
labour will keep eighteen in comfort and twelve will be in
rags, and so it goes on getting worse and worse. Now, all
England and all England's industry may be looked at thus.
Ten milUon (say) could live comfortably in England. At
twenty millions, five will be submerged. At thirty twelve
will be in want, and so on.
I do not suppose that this argument would now be used
by any competent economist. But it may be well to explain
briefly the nature of the mistake. The simple truth is
that the Law of Diminishing Eeturns is a misnomer. At
one stage returns increase proportionately to the amount of
labour applied ; i.e., a given addition of labour brings a more
than proportionate increase of product. At another stage
returns decrease proportionately to the amount of labour;
i.e., a given addition of labour brings a less than proportion-
ate increase. Thus a farmer working single handed in a
Western state reaps a certain harvest. If he is able to hire
one labourer his return is more than doubled. A second
labourer adds yet more than the first, and so on up to a
certain maximum, after which the addition of a fresh
labourer makes a smaller addition of produce than is
obtained from the average of preceding labourers. At this
point Increasing Eeturns give way to Diminishing Eeturns.
And so it is in all industry. There is a period of Increasing
and a period of Diminishing Eeturns and even an inter-
weaving of the two, so that we pass from one to the other
and back again. And thus considered the conception must
be applied to manufacture, mining, transport, and other
industries, as well as to agricultural land. Let it be granted
— I doubt whether any human being knows it to be true —
that English agriculture is now permanently in the period
of Diminishing Eeturns, it must be remembered that Eng-
land's population does not depend for its food on England's
soil. And it has yet to be shown that an increase in the
population does not produce such an increasing return in
THE CONTROL OF INDUSTBY. 87
manufactures and transport as more than counterbalances
the diminishing return from agriculture. That this has
been so up till the present time seems to be agreed. Thus
Professor Marshall says : —
" Political arithmetic may be said to have begun in Eng-
land in the seventeenth century ; and from that time
onwards v^e find a constant and nearly steady increase in
the amount of accumulated wealth per head of the popula-
tion " (** Principles of Economics," vol. i. p. 729, 2nd edition,
1891).
Ptemembering the enormous increase in the population
which has taken place during the same time, we see here the
action of Increasing Returns on a large scale. In fact, the
pressure of population on subsistence ma,y some day become
a difficulty. But that it in any way contributes to our diffi-
culties at present, or is likely to do so within any period for
which we are called upon to make provision, there is no
evidence to show. What evidence we have points the other
way. And for those who look forward with anxiety to the
time when even standing room will be diiEcult to find on this
earth, let us in Platonic fashion crown them with garlands
as the wisest and most far-seeing of men, and at the same
time suggest to them that they would find a more congenial
society among the philosophers of Laputa than among the
legislators of our city.
A somewhat similar objection may be put in a simpler
form. It may be said " You propose that every occupation
should be made as safe and healthy as possible, that it
should never be carried to the point of exhaustion, but
should leave reasonable leisure for every worker, and yet
that every man should have enough to maintain himself and
his family in a way befitting a civilised being, and that the
old and infirm should be made comfortable. But where is
the money to come from ? Quite apart from the growth of
pouplation, where, at the present day, is the wealth that will
meet this enormous charge ? "
88 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
No doubt our wages bill will be much increased if we are
to support all the workers of the nation in comfort at the
price of moderate toil. But it is not at present found im-
possible to support a considerable number of people in a
great deal more than comfort at the price of no toil what-
ever. Next, I would admit our task to be difficult, but I
would infer that it requires our whole energy, and that we
must accordingly get rid of every obstacle to its achieve-
ment. If certain persons hold a lien on the produce of the
nation and exact a toll for which they make no adequate
return, our difficulties are certainly increased ; but my
inference would be not that we should abandon our task,
but that we should reconsider the position of these persons.
Every argument from the "impossible" urged by the friends
of vested interests makes the case against vested interests
stronger. The more difficult it is to satisfy the primary
needs, the more necessary it becomes to apply the whole of
our revenue to that purpose. And the first need of all is
life for the worker. In a true social state every citizen
counts for something, all alike must be considered ; but the
servants of society must be considered first. If there were
to be before and after at all in a true state, those would be
before who whether with brain or muscle have done the
hardest, most unpleasant, most dangerous, most self-denying
work for the common good. And next to the worker would
come the helpless. Not till these first needs are satisfied
can we consider any other claims. Individualist economics
put the cart before the horse and then are surprised that
there is no progress. We intend to reverse the order and
see if many " impossible " things do not become possible.
I conclude, on the whole, that the economic objections to
the collective control of industry are not sound.
But one question remains to be raised. In all this advo-
cacy of collective control are we not leaving one side of life
out of account altogether? Does not the growth of the
central authority militate fatally against the liberty of indi-
THE CONTBOL OF INDUSTBY. 89
vidual citizens which is essential to progress? This is a
consideration which would have had more weight in Eng-
land twenty, or even ten, years ago than it has to-day, and
I deal with it not so much because I think it will be con-
sidered, as because I hold that it ought to be considered.
I shall not, therefore, attempt an exhaustive discussion of
the arguments for individualism. I will content myself with
one or two as representative, and will then pass to the more
positive treatment of the subject.
First, then, the idea of the "rights" of the individual as
opposed to the good of society, though it would hardly find
countenance from any competent thinker, still appears to
lurk obscurely in certain minds from which it emerges from
time to time into the twilight of confused platform speeches
or magazine articles. We still hear of the rights of property,
the right to free labour, the right to drink when and where
you please, as though these rights were not merely the
creation of society, sustained by society for its own con-
venience, and having no other moral justification in the
world, but superior to social welfare and competent to give
it the law. But a " natural right " independent of the wel-
fare of society is as much a contradiction in terms as a legal
right independent of a law enforcing it. On this point
philosophers speak with one voice. That it is the view of
utilitarians, like Mill, holding as they do that the greatest
happiness of mankind is the test of right and wrong, goes
of course without saying. Let us hear, then, one of the
greatest Enghsh representatives of a quite opposite school of
thought : —
" The dissociation of innate rights from innate duties has
gone along with the delusion that such rights existed apart
from society. Men were supposed to have existed in a
state of nature which was not a state of society, but in
which certain rights attached to them as individuals, and
then to have formed societies by contract or covenant.
Society having been formed, certain other rights arose
90 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
through positive enactment ; but none of these, it was held,
could interfere with the natural rights which belonged to
men antecedently to the social contract or survived it.
** Such a theory can only be stated by an application to
an imaginary state of things, prior to the formation of
societies as regulated by custom or law, of terms that have
no meaning except in relation to such societies. * Natural
right,' as right in a state of nature which is not a state of
society, is a contradiction. There can be no right without
a consciousness of common interest on the part of members
of a society. Without this there might be certain powers
on the part of individuals, but no recognition of these
powers by others as powers of which they allow the exer-
cise, nor any claim to such recognition ; and without this
recognition or claim to recognition there can be no right." *
On this point, then, Utilitarian and Transcendentalist
join hands. A right is nothing but what the good of society
makes it. If it were well for society as a whole to destroy
every right of private property to-morrow, it would be just
to do so, and the owners would have no right to object.
They might resist with physical force, but they v^ould have
no moral ground to stand upon. If, therefore, any right to
any form of property or freedom no longer serves a good
social purpose, it must go. And whatever tenderness we
show to the interests of individuals, remember that we do
this, too, in the name of the common welfare.
This being understood, we pass to the scientific argu-
ments for individualism. The chief of these arguments is
an application to human progress of ideas derived from
the organic world at large. The struggle for existence
among plants and animals is continually eliminating the
majority of those which are born, and the survivors are
only able to maintain their ground by superiority to the
remainder in strength, swiftness, cunning, endurance, or
* T. H. Green, "Principles of Political Obligation," Philosophical
Works, vol. ii. p. 354, 2nd cd., 1890.
THE CONTROL OF INDUSTRY, 91
some similar quality. Hence the natural result of the
struggle is the survival of the fittest, which is the means of
the gradual evolution of higher from lov/er forms. So in
human life success is to the strong, the swift, the cunning, and
the patient. Let natural forces play, and these shall inherit
the earth, the weak and feeble being rooted out. In this
way by slow degrees we attain to a higher type. But if by
artificial means we preserve the impotent and the help-
less, we hinder this beneficent natural process. We prolong
the misery of their extinction and lower the average of
human excellence. Happiness and perfection are reached
by men and by other organisms when they are thoroughly
well adapted to their environment, and the supreme law
of progress is that the ill-adapted being should be left to
die: —
" Thou shalt not kill, but needst not strive
Officiously to keep alive."
Now we fully agree with the evolutionists in their main
position. It is desirable that the fit should succeed and
the unfit fail; we are ready even to exclude the utterly
unfit from society altogether by enclosing them in prison
walls. But who are the unfit? "Those who are ill-adapted
to their environment," say the evolutionists. Quite so; and
what is the environment of man? The society of other
men. Then who is the fit man ? Clearly the man who is
best adapted for social life. And who again is he ? Is he
the bold, unscrupulous man of force, the exacting, the
merciless, the ungenerous. Such is the man who succeeds
in the anarchical struggle for existence. Or is he the
merciful and generous man of justice, whose hardest fights
are fought for others' lives, who would rather, with Plato,
Buffer wrong than inflict it, and who will lay down his life to
serve mankind ? The first is fittest actually to survive in
the unregulated contest of individuals. The second is
fittest morally to survive in a society of mutually depen-
92 TEE LABOUB MOVEMENT,
dent human beings. And that the morally fittest shall
actually survive and prosper is the object of good social
institutions.*
This society of the just may be an unattainable ideal
upon earth; it may be destined to exist only in some
heavenly place among the gods. But according as we are
brave or faint-hearted, wise or foolish, virtuous or corrupt,
we approach it or fall off from it. There is not, and may
never be, a heaven upon earth, but that is no reason why
we should not strive to realise as much of heaven as we
can. We can approach, if we can never reach, the rule of
Eight and of Justice, that those shall prosper who deserve it.
We can at least institute and maintain conditions which
favour this result, which therefore promote the survival of
the fittest in the only sense in which that end is desirable.
But even the halt and the lame, if they bear their trouble
bravely, may be fitter for the social state, and serve it
better by their patient lives than the bold and strong, who,
in the pursuit of their own end, turn the earth into a hell.
Better to preserve the physically weak and their offspring
than the morally bad and their brood of evil. Better to
keep alive a maimed deformity than the human monsters
who, if the tale be true, " grow " these deformities for gain.
But we have no such sad alternatives before us. A due
regulation of economic conditions would provide for physical
* It is almost superfluous to point out the ambiguity in the word fit.
In any struggle the fittest survives. He would not have survived had
he not been the fittest to meet the particular conditions of that particular
struggle. It does not follow that he is the fittest from a moral point of
view, i.e., that he is the competitor for whom a moral man, weighing the
merits of the rivals from a moral point of view, would desire the victory.
Very immoral qualities may be the condition of success in certain states
of social or non-social existence. If, then, we wish to preserve the
morally fit, we must make submission to vioral laws the main condition
of success. Then the two meanings of fitness coincide. The morally
fit become the best fitted to survive. Again, in the first meaning of the
word, the survival of the fittest is a fact. In the second it is a desidera-
tum. But the fact is not always a desideratum, nor the desideratum
always a fact. We wish the desideratum to become fact.
THE CONTROL OF INDUSTBY. 93
as for moral health, and far from scorning the teachings
of biology would use them to promote the evolution of a
nobler species.'^ The evolutionist argument thus correctly
understood makes straight for collective control.
The true value of liberty was, I venture to think, better
understood by older writers like J. S. Mill. That, in his
phrase, " individuality is an element of well-being " is, I
believe, a permanent truth. We do not want to run
everybody into one mould. We do not wish to turn our
national institutions into a Procrustes bed, in which every
man's nature is to be cut to one length. But then we entirely
deny that the regulation of industrial life tends in this
direction. If it were proposed to impose an uniform
religion, to dictate a system of thought, to interfere with a
man's leisure, even to regulate his minor tastes in dress or
furniture, then, indeed, we should be cramping individuality
and inaugurating an era of stagnation. And when such
things are advocated we, for our part, shall be found among
the ranks of the Individualists. But an active social life
has no connection with the rule of bigotry and intolerance.
The best social life consists precisely in the harmonious
working out to their fullest possible development of the
best capacities of all members of the community. And true
liberty, to quote Professor Green again, is found when each
man has the greatest possible opportunity for making the
best of himself. And the problem for society is so far as
possible to ensure such liberty for all its members. To do
this undoubtedly involves the curtailment of individuals in
some of their actions. But some such limitations are
essential to the very existence of society. We cannot
aUow people to discharge pistols in Piccadilly or bombs at
the base of our public buildings, however much they may be
* So much has been said by evolutionists of the danger of keeping
aUve tendencies injurious to society, that it is surprising that they should
not notice the tendency of individualism to foster selfishness and callous-
ness to suffering — the most directly antisocial of all tendencies.
94 THE LABOUR MOVEMENT.
convinced that they are but following their best impulses in
so doing. We have to curtail the free play of their aspira-
tions for the safety of ourselves and our fellow-citizens.
The curtailment of the liberties of some, then, may mean
the maximum of liberty upon the whole. And this maxi-
mum it is our object to ensure. Thus free competition for
employment is a form of uncurtailed liberty, and it results
in working hours of twelve, fourteen, or sixteen a day, with
full liberty for self- development in the hours that remain.
If we curtail the liberty on one side, and so obtain an eight-
hour day for a group of workers, with- four, six, or eight
hours' additional leisure, do we add to liberty or subtract
from it upon the whole ? If we compel so much education
as puts a child in a position in which he has all the best
thoughts that have been expressed in his mother-tongue at
his command, do w^e give him a worse or a better chance of
developing his nature in the long run ? In a word, if we
exercise control where the health and other material needs
of society are concerned, do we augment or diminish the
power of satisfying higher needs ? I should reply that all
depends on the wisdom of our control. If you govern
badly or unwisely, probably enough you will get bad results.
But it is a bad government indeed that would not be better
than anarchy, just as it is a very poor brain that is no
better to its possessor than an empty skull. The actual
control itself is, in fact, a small obstacle to liberty in its
higher aspects. Just as it matters little to control the
body if you leave the spirit free, so it is a small thing to
order man's doings in the w^ay of providing material needs
if you leave him to roam unfettered in the larger field of
mental and spiritual development. And as our object is to
enable men to realise such development, and find in it their
greatest happiness, we insist at one and the same time
on perfect freedom in this direction, and perfect organisa-
tion of all the material basis of society which forms the
foundation of the wider life.
THE CONTROL OF INDUSTBY. 95
We do not, then, attack liberty, but defend it. But we dis-
tinguish kinds, or, if you like, spheres, of liberty as of very
different importance. And we advocate curtailment of the
lower kinds in the interests of the higher. It may be asked
who is the judge of higher and lower, and who decides what is
essential to the interests of the higher ? Only one answer
can be given — the majority of the citizens, and this brings
us to the second of Mill's pleas for liberty — the fallibility of
any human authority. Here again we have a consideration
of great and permanent importance. No human being, and,
therefore, no collection of human beings, can be perfectly
wise. If we adtoit, with Aristotle, that the wisdom of a
body of men in their collective decisions may be greater
than the average wisdom of the component individuals, we
must yet allow that it is imperfect. The court of appeal to
the people is the highest human court, because none higher
and none safer can be devised. But the voice of the people
is not the voice of God. And a whole generation may
follow a mistaken idea about its own best interests. To
ignore this is the mere weakness of fanaticism.
But we have a corrective to all mistakes— the only
corrective open to mankind — in free criticism ; we must in
many ways control action, we cannot control thought, we
should not control speech. In all curtailment of freedom,
let this field be left open, and the main danger of govern-
ment— persistence in a wrong course — is avoided. We shall
lose, we do lose something by toleration in this form. The
promulgation of error is pro tanto harmful. But Mill has
shown that the open advocacy of error is far less prejudicial
to the cause of truth than the suppression of divergences of
opinion. Free discussion is the best corrective of stagna-
tion, and free discussion involves some error. And there
is a suitable point at which the repression of erroneous
doctrines should begin, the point that is when it issues in
action to the hurt of society. At that point repress it if you
please, but still leave men free to talk. This distinction is
96 THE LABOUB MOVEMENT.
of course recognised in law. It is open to a man to advocate
Mormonism in England, but it is not open to him to be a
bigamist. In most respects the law already holds that it is
best to let men talk out their thoughts and to meet them by
reason and persuasion, rather than with a whiff of grapeshot.
And so far from advocating an extension of collective control
in this direction, we would rather see a clearer line of demar-
cation drawn, and the rule of free discussion made as nearly
absolute as any rule can be.'^ Let the fresh air of criti-
cism move over the face of the waters and keep them
astir. Then at least we shall avoid stagnation. It is
difficult to many people to combine toleration and zeal —
difficult, but necessary. Half the progressive movements of
the world have failed in the long run through this defect.
To raise men one step on the upward path, they have built
up a machinery which has prevented all further movement ;
and the next stage has had to begin with the breaking
down of this cumbersome mechanism. If for the future
this error can be avoided, progressive movements will no
longer contain the causes of stagnation or relapse within
themselves. And the single general principle which can be
laid down to help us here is the principle of free thought and
free discussion. It may be asked, *' If you admit the State
fallible, how can you insist that we should let it judge for
us?" I purposely put the question in this form, because I
think, that however phrased, it rests on an unanalysed idea
of the State as something outside ourselves. The truth of
course is that we are the State, and when we judge and
decide things as a state, we are in no worse position for
judging than in the practical affairs of daily life. I cannot
get an infallible judgment from any source on earth, whether
on my own affairs or to assist anybody else. Even if it is
* It is, I think, consistent with this to regulate, in some degree, the
manner of expression in certain subjects. Since in this case the use of
some expressions produces an effect on the hearer without altering his
opinion, and the absolute rule we want is that any attempt to modify
opinion should be permissible.
THE CONTBOL OF INDU8TBY. 97
contended that every one from Solomon to the village fool
is the best judge of his own interest, it cannot be held that
either Solomon or the fool are infallible even on this point.
The argument then cuts both ways. If the State is fallible
in dealing with the individual, the individual is fallible in
acting for himself. And it has to be considered that each
man's action affects other people, and however well he may
be able to judge for them and for himself, there is no
guarantee that so far as they are concerned, he has the will
to judge well. The democratic state, on the other hand,
represents the resultant judgment, so to say, of the conflict-
ing views of all its adult and sane members, and in this
resultant judgment we get the nearest approach to a
collective judgment of the social organism upon its col-
lective interests, parallel to the judgment of the individual
man on his private interests.
There are those who allow the uncertainty of things to
weigh so heavily upon them as to paralyse their will in their
own private affairs. They exaggerate caution, and allow
the one-thousandth chance of failure to outweigh the
999 probabilities of success. They do not count the cost
before acting. They never act at all. The thing in some
instances, I believe, becomes a kind of mania, ending in a
sort of general paralysis. Many people suffer from a similar
paralysis when they approach public affairs, and the only
active principle they appear to retain is that of spreading
the same paralysis throughout society. But society must
judge and act, as individuals must judge and act. Inaction
no more saves us from responsibility, than the ostrich
secures itself from its enemy by burying its head in the
sand. If we decline to act, we are responsible for all that
follows from inaction, as surely as we must take the conse-
quences of action when we do act. If we do not put down
gambling, if we do not limit the hours of industry, if we do
not punish criminals, we must be held responsible for all
that follows from our passivity. EeSjponsibility is hung
8
98 THE LABOUB MOVEMENT.
about our necks, and we cannot shake it off. For better or
for worse, in private and in public, at each emergency of
life on each new question forced on us, we have to judge
as best we can, using all available light, listening to every
instructed teacher, and, finally, coming to a decision not less
resolute because delayed. Consciousness of weakness and
limitation is all good if it leads to open-mindedness and
toleration, all bad if its result is the paralysis of doubt.
And in the great matters of life, it is our imperative duty
not only to hear all sides, but also having heard them, to
form opinions of our own. The duty of having convictions
is correlative and supplementary to the duty of tolerance
and open-mindedness.
Both duties may be recognised in our public action, and
the due balance of both can alone secure a continuous
forward movement of mankind, and in it Hes the solution of
the old question between liberty and authority. Using
every available means of obtaining true ideas of what is
necessary as the fundamental condition of social health, it
is our right and duty to enforce that by any and every
form of collective authority, legally or voluntarily consti-
tuted. It is equally right and good to leave a fair field of
discussion open to all who consider themselves aggrieved, or
who think we are in the wrong path. And, finally, collective
control has not so much to make people good and happy,
as to establish the necessary conditions of goodness and
happiness, leaving it to individual effort and voluntary
association to develop freely and spontaneously all the fair
flower and fruit of human intercourse and knowledge and
beauty, which can spring from a sovnd root firmly planted
in life-giving earth.
THE END.
Ubc (BrcBbam press,
UNWIN BROTHEBS,
WOKIKG AKD LONDON.
Ipreliminac^ Xi6t
OF
Mr T. fisher UNWIN'S
Announcements for
1897
A Preliminary List of
Mr. T. Fisher Unwin's
PRELIMINARY List of Announcements
FREDERIC ENGELS :
The Co-founder of Scientific Socialism. His Work and
his Associations. [Autumn, 1897.
SYNOPSIS OF Contents :— Early Years (1820-1842)— First Stay at
Manchester (1842-1844)— At Paris and Brussels (1844-1847)— The Com-
munistic Manifesto (1847) — During the German Revolution of 1848-
1849— In Exile (1849-1851)— At Manchester Attain (1851-1869)— At Lon-
don and in the Council of the International (1869-1871)— Engels' Most
Important Work (1871-1883)— The Council of International Socialism
ii8S3-i895)— Engels' Influence in International Politics— Important
setters and other Dociunents of interest.
LITHOGRAPHY.
By Joseph Pennell, Author of " Pen Drawing " " The
Illustration of Books," &c., and Elizabeth Robins
Pennell. With a Lithographic PYontispiece Por-
trait of Mr. Pennell, by J. McNeill Whistler. With
Numerous Illustrations and Plates. Uniform in style
with " Pen Drawing." Price £3 13s. 6d. net.
[Spnng, 1898.
Lithography and Lithographers is a study of the art and the artists
who have practised it. Mr. and Mrs. Pennell have collaborated on this
book, which is a history of the invention and development of litho-
graphy as an art. Much attention will be paid by the authors to the
romantic movement in France when it was at its most important and
most interesting phase. The English work of the same time will be
by no means neglected, nor yet that of Germany, and Italy, and the
other countries where it was so extensively used. The story of this
development is extremely interesting, as not only all the artists, but
almost all the literary men of the day were concerned in it. The pub-
lisher has be«n fortunate in securing, by special arrangement with the
French Government, a selection of special reproductions oi the wonder-
ful series of prints which were shown at the Champ de Mars on the
occasion of the Centenary Exhibition. While the collaboration and
assistance of the most famous contemporary lithographers, artists, and
printers has been assured, a number of original unpublished lilho-
Mr. T. Fisher Unwinds Announcements.
graphs will be included, as well as a complete scries of reproductions of
the most famous ones of the past. The book will be of the same size
and style as Mr. Peiinell's "Pen Drawing," and should be as exhaus-
tive a record of the lithograpiiic work of the cent«ry as that volume is
of the illustration in pen and ink.
THE WORKS OF CHARLES KEENE.
With Introduction and Notes by Joseph Pennell, and
numerous Pictures illustrative of the Artist's method
and vein of humour. [Autumn, 1897.
This is the first attempt at a complete presentment of the art work of
Charles Keene. It is curious that, though an excellent life of this great
artist has been written, scarely any effort has been made to collect or
discuss his drawings upon which his fame rests. Mr. Pennell has
been fortunate in securing the assistance of Messrs. Bradbury &
Agnew, the owners of the engravings for Punch, Once a Week, and
other publications, and they have loaned the original wood blocks,
which have never yet been printed from. He has also been aided
greatly by the artist's brother, Mr. Henry Keene, who has placed, as
executor, all the remaining unpublished works of Keene at Mr.
&enneU's disposal. And the collections owned by the British and
South Kensington Museums and many private collections will be drawn
upon. It is certain that Charles Keene's work in Punch and Once a
Week, from the preliminary sketch to the finished wood-engraving, will
be presented as it never has been before. Not only this, but examples
of his almost unknown etchings, colour prints, charcoal drawings, past
studies, and above all, his unrivalled designs, in pen and ink, which
have never been published and never even seen, wiJJ be presented in a
fashion that will not only appeal to those who now love Keene, but
will vastly widen that circle. The book will be illustrated with many
portraits hitherto unpublished, and will contain an Introduction and
copious notes on Keene's technical methods by Mr. PenncU, who is
perfectly qualified and fitted to undertake such a task.
PIONEER WORK IN THE ALPS OF
NEW ZEALAND.
By Arthur P. Harper. With 40 Illustrations and
Maps. Demy 8vo., cloth, 21s. net. Also, an Edition
dc Luxe printed on Japan paper, limited to 20 copies,
price £5 5s. net.
Mr. Harper did a great deal of useful work in exploration and map-
making before the virgin peaks of New Zealand had been climbed. His
pioneering experiences ar-e of much interest and value, involving as
they do observations and notes which could not be made by explorers,
who perform their feats in a brilliant hurry.
A Preliminary List of
ON THE NILE WITH A CAMERA.
By Anthony Wilkin, With in Collotype and other
Illustrations from Photographs by the Author. Demy
8vo., cloth, 2IS.
The author had the good fortuue to be on the Nfle shortly before the
commencement of the late campaign, and to obtain a large number of
photographs, some of which give a fair idea of the scenery and general
aspect of the country. Although the majority of the remainder are
devoted to the remains of ancient Ejjypt, and may be found useful in
illustrating the somewhat arid pages of the guide-books, there are still
he hopes, more than a mere leavening whose subjects are sufficiently
unfamiliar to warrant their reproduction on other than strictly artistic
grounds. Throughout, his object has been to interest and, so to speak,
to advertise the peculiar charms of the landscape, the romance of the
monuments, and the peculiar fascination of the modern Egyptian
character.
THE PRINTERS OF BASLE:
Being the Autobiographies of Thomas and Felix
Platter. Edited by C. W. Heckethorne. Folio,
Illustrated, Parchment Gilt, 2is. net. \_Sprin^, 1897.
This is a very interesting br»ok, describing the life of two Swiss scholars
of the sixteenth century — lather and son. We see clearly from its
pages the general state of the Continent, and the struggle for religious
liberty which was then going on more or less all over Germany and
Switzerland. It was the age of Zwingli and Calvin, and the diaries of the
two Platters are invaluable historical documents, and do for 1540. in a
small way, what Pepys' does for England of 1670.
THE INNER LIFE OF THE HOUSE OF
COMMONS,
Selected from the writings of William White, with a
Prefatory Note by his Son, and an Introduction by
Justin McCarthy, M.P. Two vols., demy 8vo., cloth,
i6s.
The late Mr. William White was, for many years, doorkeeper of the
House of Commons, and in this capacity gained a unique knowledge of
the parliamentary life of his day. He witnessed the early skirmishes
between Mr. Disraeli and Mr Gladstone, and sketched many a word-
portrait, none the less vivid for being un-acadcmical, for the Illustrated
Times, from whose p»ges these extracts are mainly derived. From
them it will be gathered that Mr. White was the pioneer of the modern
" descrintive re^wting " which obtains so largely nowadays.
Mr. T. Fisher Unw7n''$ Announcements.
TWELVE BAD W^OMEN :
A Companion Volume to " Twelve Bad Men." Edited
by Arthur Vincent. Illustrated. Demy 8vo., cloth
i6s. ' *
It has not been necessary to go further afield than the British Isles
to find members of the gentle sex worthy to rank as counterparts to
the Twelve Bad Men, and these pages will be found to show that the
"badness" of Englishwomen is not so limited in kind as popular
phraseology has elected to make it seem. The charaders named have
been selected as types of various forms of vice as developed in the
feminine heart ; and if all the deadly sins are not represented it is
believed that material is here afforded for a revised edition fwith
additions) of the accepted Ust.
This volume is made up as follows :— (i) Alice PeSrers, the rapacious
paramour of Edward III. ; (2) Alice Arden, Shakespeare's chosen type
Df a bad woman ; (3) Mary Frith, "Moll Cutpurse" ; (4) the Countess
j>f Somerset, Sir Thomas Overbury's murderess ; (5) Barbara Duchess
jf Cleveland ; (6) Mary Young, "Jenny Diver " ; (7) Teresia Constantia
Phillips, Walpole's "Con Phillips"; (8) Miss Chudleigh ; (9) Mrs
Brownrigg, the cruellest of women ; (10) Elizabeth Canning, impostor •
,11) Mary Bateman, "The Yorkshire Witch " ; (12) Mary Anne Clarke
the baleful genius of " the brave old Duke of York."
BARDS OF THE GAEL AND GALL :
A Volume of Verse, collected and edited by Dr.
George Sigerson. With Photogravure Portrait of
the blind Irish Bard, Carolan. Cloth, los. 6d.
All lovers of Irish poetry will welcome this volume. It contains
much that will be new to the general reader, and nothing that is not
thoroughly representative. It is well to say that, as absolute appro-
priateness of selection is apt not to be a conspicuous quality ia
so-called "Lyras."
THE WELSH PEOPLE :
The Origin, Language, History, and Present Character-
istics, chiefly extracted from the Report of the Royal
Commission on Land in Wales and Monmouthshire.
EJited, with Notes and Additions, by John Rhys,
Principal of Jesus College, and Professor of Celtic
in the University of Oxford, and David Brynmor
Jones, Q.C., M.P., two of Her Majesty's Com-
missioners. Demy 8vo., cloth, 7s. 6d.
CONTBMTS -.—Preface— Introduction— The Race— The Language-
Early History— The Welsh Laws— The Conquests— Statute of Rhuddlan
—The Retallions — Statutes by Henry VIH.— Appendix— Sources of
Welsh History— List of Principal Works on Wales.
A Preliminary List of
THE NATIONAL COOK-BOOK.
By Marion Harland and Christine Terhune Her-
RiCK. Large crown 8vo., cloth, 7s. 6d.
This work has been in preparation during a period of seven years,
and contains 1,000 recipes carefully prepared in the light of the latest
methods of cooking and serving. In addition to the value and interest
the volume possesses as the joint work of two recognised authorities
on domestic economy, the book is unique in that it includes dishes of
various nations.
/iDastetB ot /nbeblctne*
Edited by Ernest Hart, M.D., Editor of The British
Medical Journal. Large crown 8vo., cloth, 3s. 6d.
each.
Vol. I. JOHN HUNTER.
By Stephen Paget. Introduction by Sir
James Paget.
This series of biographies of eminent masters of medicine and
surgery will include such men as Hunter (by Mr. Stephen Paget, with
an introduction by Sir James Paget), Harvey, Mead, and Redcliffe
(by Professor Clifford Allbut), Brodie, Holmes, Jenner, Pasteur, Cooper
Liston, Abernethy, Helmholtz.
CRAIKTREES.
By Watson Dyke. Q-own 8vo., cloth, 6s.
"Craiktrees" is a very agreeable story of Yorkshire rustic life. The
peccadillo of a miser — to give it no worse name— is the occasion of the
hero of the piece proving the stuff of which he is made. His court-
ship makes a pretty idyll. You may look th;s gift horse in the mouth
quite fearlessly, and it will leave a pleasant taste in yours.
TOURGUENEFF AND HIS FRENCH
CIRCLE :
A Series of Letters to Flaubert, George Sand, Emile
Zola, Guy de Maupussant, Gambetta, and others.
Edited by H. Halperine-Kaminsky, Crown 8vo.,
cloth, 7s. 6d. {^Autumn, 1897.
These lettres inedites have excited so much interest during their
appearance in Cosmcpolis tliat a bare word of introduction should
Mr. T. Fisher Unimti's Announceifnents.
snffice. TourquSneff collected about him in the course of his life in
Paris a number of friends from the most distinjjuished literati in
France, The specimens given in this book of a ten years' corres-
pondence (1863-73) iUuslrates Tourgueneff the man in an attraet^e
light. Interesting pen-portraits aboun'd in these pages, which, indeed,
have attracted the attention of the Tsar.
TRAVELLING NOTES IN SOUTHERN
FRANCE.
By HiPPOLiTE Adolphe Taine. Being the Authorised
Translation of ** Garnets de Voyage." Crown 8vo.,
cloth, 7s. 6d.
This posthumous work is a record of Impressions received by the
author while journcfying in ProVence examining schools in the course
of 1863-5. There are fifty notes, comprising elegant word-pictures of
Donai, Rennes, Bordeaux, Toulouse, Marseilles, Lyons, Strasbourg,
Amiens, Nancy, Reims, Aries, &c. Taine studied faces as well as
places, and the book shows the keen observation of a refined mind.
In some sense it is a companion volume to the " Voyage aux Pyrenees."
The translation is published with the authority of Mme. Taine.
A GREAT LIE.
By Wilfrid Hugh Chesson, Author of " Name this
Child." Crown 8vo., cloth, 6s.
This is a story of " the deformed transformed." All liars should read
it. It inculcates modesty ; since most lies look feeble beside the
" great lie." Clergymen should also read it, because the person who
lived the "great lie" was so uncomfortable that the moral of his life
is beyond dispute. The writer has a fancy for phrase-making and
love-making. He has not been blind to the merits of the great lie,
which will occasionally be found amusing. His local colour is of the
sea. His letters of introduction — the good opinions of the Press —
are given away with the book.
THE SCHOOL FOR SAINTS :
Part of the History of the Right Honourable Robert
Orange, M.P. By John Oliver Hobbes, Author of
"The Herb Moon," "The Sinner's Comedy," &c.
Cloth, gilt top, 6s. [Autumn, 1897.
This novel is, in part, a romance of" France, a kind of modern
version of " Amadis de Gaul," or rather, an application of the spirit of
that famous book of chivalry to modern life. It is full of the blended
pathos and irony which'characterise the author's writings.
A Preliminary List of
Ube CrtmlnolOGP Series— a^^«^ Volume,
JUVENILE OFFENDERS.
By William Douglas Morrison. Large crown
8vo., cloth, 6s.
A VILLAGE POLITICIAN :
The Life Story of John Buckley. Edited by J. C. Buck-
master. With an Introduction by the Right Hon,
A. J. MuNDELLA, M.P. Crown 8vo., cloth, 6s.
This is a volume containing the interesting reminiscences of a lead-
ing pioneer of the Free Trade movement. It brings once more to the
mind of the reader the thrilling times when the repeal of the corn laws
was still unaccomplished.
GLIMPSES INTO PLANT LIFE.
By Mrs, Brightwen, Author of " Wild Nature Won
by Kindness," &c. Illustrated. Cloth, 3s. 6d.
Builders ot (Breater :fi3dtatm
Edited by H. F. Wilson, formerly Fellow of Trinity
College, Cambridge. With photogravure frontispiece.
A Set of 12 volumes, large crown 8vo., cloth, 5s. each.
VoL I. SIR W^ALTER RALEIGH.
By Martin A. S. Hume, Author of "The Court-
ships of Queen Elizabeth," "The Year After
the Armada," &c.
ZhC story of tbe 1Rat!0n6»— A^^w Volumes.
Illustrated, and with Maps and Indexes, crown 8vo,,
cloth, 5s, each.
CANADA.
By J. G. BouRiNOT, C.M.G., LL.D., Lit. D., Clerk
of the Canadian House of Commons, Honorary
Secretary and ex- President of the Royal Society
of Canada, &c. Dedicated to the Countess of
Aberdeen.
In this book, written by an English Canadian whose constitutional
and historical works have won him much distinction, we have one of
Alt, T. Fisher Unwinds Announcements.
the most interesting volumes that have yet appeared on the Dominion
of Canada. Like the eminent American historian, Francis Parkman,
Dr. Bourinot has given special prominence to the exceedingly pictur-
esque days of the French retjime (1604-1760), and his narrative, from
the beginning to the end, reads like a romance, though in no sense has
he sacrificed historical truth tc mere graphic effect. The history of the
years of English dominion is more or less a record of the political and
constitutional struggles of communities isolated from each other until
1867 ; but the author has also here invested his narrative with interest
by giving most attention to the epoch-making events, and to tracing
step by step the development of a Confederation which now extends
from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, and has already won a place
among the nations. The illustrations have been selected with much
care, and add much to the vividness of the story. The portraits of the
makers of Canada are of special value to the students of the history of
a great English dependency.
HER EXCELLENCY THE COUNTESS OF ABERDEEN says:—
" From what I have seen of the book I am sure that it is just what
was wanted to make both Canadians themselves and people at home
realise what the history of Canada means."
GILBERT PARKER, author of " The Seats of the Mighty," says :—
" Dr. Bourinot's book is the real thing. It reads like roniance and
tastes like the good apple of truth. I have read it, and re-read portions
of it, carefully and gladly, and too much cannot be said in its favour."
BRITISH INDIA.
By R.W. Frazer, LL.B.
Every effort has been made to include in this volume of the "Story
of the Nations " series the results of the recent researches in Indian
history. The course of ancient commerce between the East and West,
the rise and fall of the Portuguese settlements in India, the accounts
of the early English travellers, and details of the first voyages, are
plainly set forth. A description is given of the internal state of India
towards the close of the seventeenth century, and the causes detailed
which made the extension of British dominion inevitable. Throughout
the story the main facts which led to the extension of territorial
possession are dwelt on, and the result of each step forward traced.
The history includes the most recent events, and an account is given
of the moral and material progress of the people under British rule.
MODERN FRANCE.
By Andre Le Bon, Member of the House of
Deputies, Minister for Trade and Industry.
ATTo^T^T* ISpring, 1897.
AUSTRIA.
By Sydney Whitman, M.A. [Autumn, 1897.
THE FRANKS.
By Lewis Sergeant, M.A. [Autimtn, 1897
A Pfeltminaty List oj
THE BURDEN OF LIFE.
Essays by the late J. Hain Friswell, Author of " The
Gentle Life," &c. Edited, with a Memoir, by his
Daughter, Laura Hain Friswell. Crown 8vo.,
cloth, 3s.6d.
The essays that appeared in the Family Herald, during Mr. Hain
Friswell's editorship, were remarkable both for literary acumen and
common sense. They were no mere pot-pourris of quotation and
anecdote. This posthumous collection is on a par with that which,
under the title of "This Wicked World," had marked success in 1892,
and the more famous "Gentle Life" series. The opinions of the
author of "The Gentle Life" are well known. He was a prolific
writer, a true scholar, and an earnest and kindly man. As a satirist,
novelist, and essayist he was popular, " and deservedly praised for his
rare faculty in expressing his thoughts in good sound English." In
the fortlicoming book an attempt will be made to give an account of
bis early life, education, and determinatien to become an author. It
will show his strong religious faith, his indefatigable industry in many
things as well as in hterature, his love for the working-classes, whose
interests he had ever at heart, and of whose edacation and advance-
ment he never lost sight.
IVAN ALEXANDROVITCH.
By Andree Hope (Mrs. Harvey, of Ickwell-Bury).
Dedicated to the Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone,
Crown 8vo., cloth, 3s. 6d.
Ivan Ivanovitch is a Russo-Parisian story of no little interest.
Conceived on the old romantic lin»s the love element in it is strong
and the pathos undeniable. The Siberian local colour is clearly
authentic ; it is certainly vivid.
THOSE DREADFUL TWINS : Middy and
Bosun.
By Themselves. Illustrated. Crown 8vo., cloth, 3s. 6d.
Everybody who isn't responsible for their not becoming conceited
will fall in love with the " Dreadful Twins." This is a true book— a
true history of boyish frolic and escapade. The twins may be met to-
day in the Kensington Round Pond. To-morrow they may be seen,
living like David Copperfield with Peggotty, on board an unmantled
thip. There is much fun in the book, and several pretty pictures.
Mf. T. Fisher Unwinds Announcements.
THE TENTH MUSE :
A Satire. By Herbert Flowerdew, Fcap. 8vo.,
cloth, 2s. 6d.
" The Tenth Muse " is an account of a strange race much addicted to
the " mode Germanorum." It is cast in the style of Herodotus, and is
a satire. The cat, however, keeps gravely enough in the bag, and Mrs.
Grundy and other notable persons may read about themselves with
composure. It is, however, none the less witty and trenchant for being
gentlemanly and self-contained,
SUN AND MIST :
Poems. By E. St. G. Betts. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d.
net.
Mr. Betts is a poet : he has the great calm of the Wordsworthian
mood. Lovers of Nature will reciprocate Mr. Betts' mellifluous lines
with adequate and ungrudging praise.
Zbc Kb\?enture Series*
Popular Re-issue. Each large 8vo., fully illustrated, in
two styles of binding, viz., dacorative cover, cut
edges, and plain library style, uncut edges, price
3s. 6d. per vol.
ADVENTURES of a YOUNGER SON.
By Edward John Trelawny. Introduction by
Edward Garnett.
THE LOG OF A JACK TAR ;
Or, The Life of James Choyce, Master Mariner.
Now first published. — With "O'BRIEN'S
CAPTIVITY IN FRANCE." Edited by the
late Commander V. Lovett Cameron.
Other Volumes will follow.
BRER MORTAL.
By Ben Marlas. Six full-page Illustrations by Mark
Zangwill. Crown 8vo., cloth, 5s.
" Brer Mortal *• is an allegory of human life. A great air of remote-
ness and stcangeness and mystery hangs about .t, but many things
A Preliminary List of
sospieiously like satire give a clue to the nature of the whole. A father
is supposed to narrate the history of Brer Mortal to his inquisitive son,
who is not old enough to learn all the fortunate things that happened
in the Dark Ages. Mr. Mark Zangwill has supplied some striking
pictures in accordance with the author's suggestion that " a pure de-
votion to his handmaid the humble cliche may haply avail much."
TALES OF AN ENGINEER :
Being Fact and Fancies of Railway Life. By Kendal
Roy. With Frontispiece. Crown 8vo,, cloth, 2s. 6d.
This book is made up of a series of railway sketches, which should
prove of intense interest to engineers of all ages throughout England.
An added interest to the book is the fact that the writer has had practi-
cal experience of what he describes, and in many cases the stories
are founded upon fact. The book abounds in pathos and in rare
humour, and all readers will allow that the author has been most
successful in reproducing the joys and the sorrows of engineering life.
Ube Cbtlbren*5 StUOy.— iV^w Volumes.
Long 8vo., cloth, gilt top, with Photogravure Frontis-
piece, price 2s, 6d. each.
5. OLD TALES FROM GREECE.
By Alice Zimmern.
6. FRANCE.
By Mary Rowsell.
7. THE UNITED STATES.
By Minna Smith.
ITbe pscuDon^m Xtbtar^,— a^^ Volume.
Paper covers, is. 6d. ; cloth, 2s.
ANTHONY JASPER.
By Ben Bolt.
a story dealing with the West Country smugglers at the beginning
of the century. A slight love story runs through the tale, in which the
chief of the traders— a gentleman with a taste for adventure, and a
dragoon captain — sent down to help in the suppression of the illicit
trading, are rivals for a lady's hand. There is given a fair presentation
of som« of the ways and methods of the free traders of the West
Co«ntrv. who, it will be remembered, were a very hardy race of men .
Mr. T. Fishet Unwinds Announcements.
and interesting descriptions of the meetings of the smugglers and
revenue men, in one of which a great fight occurs, after which the
chief of tlie traders has to flee the country. The scene of the story lies
alon;:* the stretch of coast between Plymouth Sound and Fowey —
Whitsand Bay, which at one time was a favourit* resort of the
smugglers when "running" contraband goods.
Xtttle l^OVClS,— New Volumes.
Demy 8vo., printed in bold type, paper covers. 6d. each ;
cloth, IS. each.
A SLIGHT INDISCRETION.
By Edward Cartwright.
A COMEDY OF THREE.
By Newton Sanders.
PASSPORTS.
By I. J. Armstsono.
A NOBLE HAUL.
By W. Clark Russell.
ON THE GOGMAGOOS.
By Alice Dumillo.
TTbe Xtbtar^ ot Xttetat^ Iblstot^^
There is for orery nation a history, which does not respond to the
trumpet-call of battle, which does not limit its interest to the conflict of
dynasties. This— the history of intellectual growth and artistic'
achievement — if less romantic than the popular panorama of kings and
queens, finds its material in imperishable masterpieces, and reveals to
the student something at once more vital and more picturesque than
the quarrels of rival parliaments. Nor is it in any sense unscientific to
shift the point of view from politics to literature. It is but a fashion of
history which insists that a nation lives only for her " arriors— a fashion
which might long since have been ousted by the commonplace reflection
that in history's despite the poets are the true masters of the earth. If
all record of a nation's progress were blotted oiit, and its literatui e were
yet lett us, might we not recover therefrom the outHnes of the lost
history ?
It is. then, with the literature of nations that the present series is
concerned.
A Pteliminary List of
Each volume will be entrusted to a distinguished scholar, and the
aid of foreign men of letters will be invited whenever the perfection
of the series demands it.
The following is but an imperfect list of volumes in contemplation >—
INDIA.
By R. W. Frazer., LL.B
FRANCE.
By Marcel Schwob.
MODERN RUSSIA.
By Constance and Edward Garnett.
IRELAND.
By Douglas Hyde, LL.D.
JEVTISH LIFE in the MIDDLE AGES.
By Israel Abrahams, M.A.
LIFE OF SIR HENRY PARKES, G.C.M.G.
By Charles E. Lyne, formerly Editor of The Sydney
Morning Herald, Author of ** Industries of New
South Wales," "New Guinea," &c. Demy 8vo.,
cloth, i6s.
A POT OF HONEY.
By Susan Christian, Author of " Silhouettes." Cloth,
35. 6d.
Miss Christian's charm is so much the result of a fine pensiveness and
sobriety in her own temperament that her book stands outside class
and category. It is a story of lives that somehow missed in aim or in
execution. If they were heroic, it was with a futile heroism, and if
they succeeded in love, they were a little late. There is no cheapness
here, nothing to be called new-womanish or Jin de siicle. The
sympathy is tender, the irony true.
LETTERS OF DANTE GABRIEL
ROSSETTI, 1854-1870.
Edited by G. Birkbeck Hill, Illustrated. Large crown
8vo., cloth, 128,
Mr, T. Fisher Unwinds Announcements.
» — ■ _ — ~~—'
THE TWIT.IGHT REEF,
And other Stories. By H. C. McIlwaine. Crown
8vo., doth, 3s. 6d.
COMMUNISM IN MIDDLE EUROPE in
the Time of the Reformation.
By Karl Kautsky, Editor of Die Neue Zeit, Author
of •' The Growth of Population and Social Progress,"
"From Plato to the Anabaptists," &c. Translated
from the German by J. L. and E. J. Mulliken.
Cloth, i6s.
PACIFIC TALES.
By Louis Becke, Author of "By Reef and Palm," &c.
With Frontispiece Portrait of the Author, and several
Illustrations. Crown 8vo., green cloth, gilt top, 6s.
TIME SHADOW CHRIST :
An Introduction to Christ Himself. By Gerald
Stanley Lee. Foolscap 8vo., paper boards, 2s, 6d.
QUOTATIONS FOR OCCASIONS.
Compiled by Katherine B. Wood, Crown 8vo.,
cloth, 3s. 6d.
APHROESSA ; and Other Poems.
By Geokge Hortox, Author of " Constantine." Fcap.
8vo., cloth, 2s. 6d.
Mr. T, Fisher Unwinds Announcements
SKETCHED AW^HEEL IN FIN DE SIECLE
IBERIA.
By Fanny Bullock Workman and William Hunter
Workman, Authors of ** Algerian Memories."
Thirty Illustrations and Map. Crown 8vo., cloth, 6s.
THE TEMPLE OF FOLLY : A Novel.
By Paul Creswick. Crown 8vo., cloth, 6s.
ST. MARK'S INDEBTEDNESS TO ST.
MATTHEVV.
By F. P. Badham. Crown 8vo., cloth, 3s. 6d.
MOTHER, BABY, AND NURSERY :
A Manual for Mothers. By Genevieve Tucker.
Crown 8vo., cloth, 3s. 6d.
London : T. FISHFR UNWIN. Patepnostet? Square, E.C
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BOSTON UNIVERSITY
HD8390E98 BOSS
The labour movement, with a preface
1 17n DDEIE nbE
FREDERICK S.PARDEE
MANAGEMENT LIBRARY
BOSTON UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES
595 COMMONWEALTH AVENUE
BOSTON, MA 02215
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