Part 2

Still, we do not affect to underrate the huge public danger of a press which is necessarily in the hands of the very people whose idleness and extravagance keep the nation poor and miserable in spite of its immense resources. It costs quarter of a million to start a London daily paper with any chance of success; and every man who writes for it risks his livelihood every time he pens a word that threatens the incomes of the proprietors and their class. The quantity of snobbish and anti-social public opinion thus manufactured is formidable; and a new sort of crime--the incitement by newspapers of mobs to outrage and even murder--hitherto tried only on religious impostors, is beginning to be applied to politics. The result is likely to be another illustration of the impossibility of combining individual freedom with economic slavery. We have had to throw freedom of contract to the winds to save the working classes from extermination as a result of “free” contracts between penniless fathers of starving families and rich employers. Freedom of the press is hardly less illusory when the press belongs to the slave owners of the nation, and not a single journalist is really free. We think it well therefore at this moment to warn our readers not to measure the extent of our operations or our influence, much less the strength of our case, by what they read of us in the papers. The taste for spending one’s life in drudgery and never-ending pecuniary anxiety solely in order that certain idle and possibly vicious people may fleece you for their own amusement, is not so widespread as the papers would have us think. Even that timidest of Conservatives, the middle class man with less than £500 a year (sometimes less than £100) is beginning to ask himself why his son should go, half-educated, to a clerk’s desk at fifteen, to enable another man’s son to go to a university and complete an education of which, as a hereditary idler, he does not intend to make use. To tell him that such self-questioning is a grave symptom of Free Love and Atheism may terrify him; but it does not convince. And the evolution of Socialism from the Red spectre on the barricade, with community of wives (all petroleuses), and Compulsory Atheism, to the Fabian Society and the Christian Social Union, constitutional, respectable, even official, eminent, and titled, is every day allaying his dread of it and increasing his scepticism as to the inevitability of the ever more and more dreaded knock of the ground landlord’s agent and the rate collector.

Now, as everyone knows, the course of evolution, in Socialism or anything else, does not involve the transformation of the earlier forms into the later. The earlier forms persist side by side with the later until they are either deliberately exterminated by them or put out of countenance so completely that they lose the heart to get born. This is what has happened in the evolution of Fabian Socialism. Fabian Socialism has not exterminated the earlier types; and though it has put them so much out of countenance that they no longer breed freely, still there they are still, preaching, collecting subscriptions, and repulsing from Socialism many worthy citizens who are quite prepared to go as far, and farther, than the Fabian Society. Occasionally they manage even to contest a Parliamentary seat in the name of Socialism, and to reassure the Capitalist parties by coming out at the foot of the poll with fewer votes than one would have thought possible for any human candidate, were he even a flat-earth-man, in these days when everyone can find a following of some sort. More often, however, they settle down into politically negligible sects, with a place of weekly meeting in which they preach to one another every week, except in the summer months, when they carry the red flag into the open air and denounce society as it passes or loiters to listen. Now far be it from us to repudiate these comrades. If a man has been brought to conviction of sin by the Countess of Huntingdon’s Connexion, and subsequently enters the Church and becomes an Archbishop, he will always have sufficient tenderness for the Connexion to refrain from attacking it, and to remember that many of its members are better Christians and better men than the more worldly-wise pillars of the Church. The principal leaders of the Fabian movement are in the same position with regard to many little societies locally known as “the Socialists.” We know that their worship of Marx (of whose works they are for the most part ignorant, and of whose views they are intellectually incapable) and their repetition of shibboleths about the Class War and the socialization of all the means of production, distribution, and exchange have no more application to practical politics than the Calvinistic covenants which so worried Cromwell when he, too, tried to reconcile his sectarian creed with the practical exigencies of government and administration. We know also, and are compelled on occasion to say bluntly out, that these little sects are ignorant and incapable in public affairs; that in many cases their assumption of an extreme position is an excuse for doing nothing under cover of demanding the impossible; and that their inability to initiate any practical action when they do by chance get represented on public bodies often leads to their simply voting steadily for our opponents by way of protest against what they consider the compromising opportunism of the Fabians. There are moments when they become so intolerable a nuisance to the main body of the movement that we are sorely tempted to excommunicate them formally, and warn the public that they represent nobody but their silly selves. But such a declaration, though it would be perfectly true as far as political and administrative action is concerned, would be misleading on the whole. In England, everyone begins by being absurdly ignorant of public life and inept at public action. Just as the Conservative and Liberal Parties are recruited at Primrose League meetings and Liberal and Radical demonstrations at which hardly one word of sense or truth is uttered, but at which nevertheless the novice finds himself in a sympathetic atmosphere, so even the Fabian Society consists largely of Socialists who sowed their wild oats in one or other of these little sects of Impossibilists. Therefore we not only suffer them as gladly as human nature allows, but give them what help and countenance we can when we can do so without specifically endorsing their blunders. Fortunately the immense additions which have been made to the machinery of democracy in England in the last twenty years, from the County Councils of 1888 to the education authorities of 1902, have acted as schools of public life to thousands of men of small means who in the old days must have remained Impossibilists from want of public experience. One hour on a responsible committee of a local authority which has to provide for some public want and spend some public money, were it but half a crown, will cure any sensible man of Impossibilism for the rest of his life. And such cures are taking place every day, and converting futile enthusiasts into useful Fabians.

A word as to this book. It is not a new edition of Fabian Essays. They are reprinted exactly as they appeared in 1889, nothing being changed but the price. No other course was possible. When the essays were written, the Essayists were in their thirties: they are now in their fifties, except the one, William Clarke, who is in his grave. We were then regarded as young desperadoes who had sacrificed their chances in life by committing themselves publicly to Socialism: we are now quoted as illustrations of the new theory that Socialists, like Quakers, prosper in this world. It is a dangerous theory; for Socialism, like all religions and all isms, can turn weak heads as well as inspire and employ strong ones; but we, at all events, have been fortunate enough to have had our claim to public attention admitted in the nineteen years which have elapsed since our youthful escapade as Fabian Essayists.

It goes without saying that in our present position, and with the experience we have gained, we should produce a very different book if the work were to be done anew. We should not waste our time in killing dead horses, however vigorously they were kicking in 1889. We should certainly be much more careful not to give countenance to the notion that the unemployed can be set to work to inaugurate Socialism; though it remains true that the problem of the unemployed, from the moment when we cease to abandon them callously to their misery or soothe our consciences foolishly by buying them off with alms, will force us to organize them, provide for them, and train them; but the very first condition of success in this will be the abandonment of the old idea that the unemployed tailor can be set to make clothes for the unemployed bootmaker and the unemployed bootmaker to make boots for the unemployed tailor, the real difficulty being, not a scarcity of clothes and boots, but a stupid misdistribution of the money to buy them. We should also probably lay more stress on human volition and less on economic pressure and historic evolution as making for Socialism. We should, in short, give the dry practice of our solutions of social problems instead of the inspiration and theory of them. But we should also produce a volume which, though it might appeal more than the present one to administrative experts, to bankers, lawyers, and constructive statesmen, would have much less charm for the young, and for the ordinary citizen who is in these matters an amateur.

Besides, the difference between the view of the young and the elderly is not necessarily a difference between wrong and right. The Tennysonian process of making stepping stones of our dead selves to higher things is pious in intention, but it sometimes leads downstairs instead of up. When Herbert Spencer in his later days expunged from his Social Statics the irresistible arguments for Land Nationalization by which he anticipated Henry George, we could not admit that the old Spencer had any right to do this violence to the young Spencer, or was less bound either to confute his position or admit it than if the two had been strangers to one another. Having had this lesson, we do not feel free to alter even those passages which no longer represent our latest conclusions. Fortunately, in the main we have nothing to withdraw, nothing to regret, nothing to apologize for, and much to be proud of. So we leave our book as it first came into the world, merely writing “Errors Excepted” as solicitors do: that is, with the firm conviction that the errors, if they exist at all, do not greatly matter.

_21st May, 1908._

THE FABIAN SOCIETY.

BY WILLIAM CLARKE, M.A.

No visitor to the British capital will mingle very long in the political life of London before he will hear of the Fabian Society. Few readers have not heard of the Roman general, Quinctus Fabius Maximus, _qui cunctando restituit rem_, and who consequently received the title of Cunctator. That illustrious man is the patron saint of the society, through which, being dead, he yet speaketh.

The Fabian Society proposes then to conquer by delay; to carry its programmes, not by a hasty rush, but through the slower but, as it thinks, surer methods of patient discussion, exposition, and political action of those who are absolutely convinced in their own minds. For a convenient motto the society has taken the following sentence: “For the right moment you must wait, as Fabius did, most patiently, when warring against Hannibal, though many censured his delays; but when the time comes you must strike hard, as Fabius did, or your waiting will be in vain and fruitless.” This double policy then, of waiting and striking, is the general idea of the society.

What now are the aims of the society? I quote from the official programme: “The Fabian Society consists of Socialists. It therefore aims at the reorganization of society by the emancipation of land and industrial capital from individual and class ownership, and the vesting of them in the community for the general benefit. In this way only can the natural and acquired advantages of the country be equitably shared by the whole people. The society accordingly works for the extinction of private property in land, and of the consequent individual appropriation, in the form of rent, of the price paid for permission to use the earth, as well as for the advantages of superior soils and sites. The society, further, works for the transfer to the community of the administration of such industrial capital as can be managed socially. For, owing to the monopoly of the means of production in the past, industrial inventions and the transformation of surplus income into capital have mainly enriched the proprietary class, the workers being now dependent on that class for leave to earn a living.” To bring this condition of things about, the programme continues, the society looks to the spread of Socialist opinions, and it seeks to promote these by the general dissemination of knowledge as to the relation between the individual and society in its economic, ethical, and political aspects.

These, then, are the fundamental ideas of the Fabian Society. Before describing its growth, work and personnel, let me give an account and explanation of its origin. The effective modern Socialist movement in England began in 1881. In that year a conference was held at the Westminster Palace Hotel in London, at which were present the venerable Francis W. Newman, brother of the late cardinal; Helen Taylor, the step-daughter of John Stuart Mill; Mr. Hyndman, the Socialist author and leader; some men now in Parliament, others who have been there, and a small number of energetic people well known in London, but not equally well known in America. These persons and others formed, after much discussion, the Democratic Federation, a body which at first appeared to be nothing more than a vigorous Radical protest against the Irish coercive policy of the Gladstone Cabinet then in power. Immense demonstrations, some of the biggest ever held in London, were got up by the Federation, who secured the adherence in this cause of some of the Irish members of Parliament. But gradually the mere Radicalism dropped out of the Federation’s programme; and under the stimulating influence of Mr. Henry George, who was then in England, whose book was being read everywhere, and who enjoyed much influence then in England, the Federation preached the doctrine of the “land for the people.” But a still further stage in its evolution was to be reached; and by the autumn of 1883 it came out as a full-blown Socialist organization, and published a little pamphlet entitled “Socialism Made Plain,” which had a great run and which, singular as it may seem now, created a perfect consternation among persons who supposed that Socialism was merely a French or German eccentricity, due to militarism and protectionism, and that it could never rear its head in “free” England. Mr. Herbert Spencer, among others, took alarm and predicted a “coming slavery,” and the venerable _Quarterly Review_ shook its venerable head and marvelled, like Mrs. Sarah Gamp, at the “brajian imperence” of these wicked agitators. It was perfectly evident that a new political force was come into being.

But there were those in London who, sympathizing deeply with the new movement, nevertheless could not throw themselves heartily into it, for two reasons: first, it assumed that a revolutionary change affecting the very bases of society could be brought about all at once; second, it appeared to ignore what may be called the spiritual side of life, and to disregard the ethical changes necessary to render a different social system possible. Such was the state of things in the autumn of 1883, when a very able man, Mr. Thomas Davidson, of New York, whom all who have meet him know to be a man of exceptional force and enthusiasm, spent some weeks in London. Mr. Davidson, noting the condition of things, gathered round him little conferences of men, at several of which I was present; and while he was in London, and for several months after, these purely informal conferences went on at different people’s houses. It would be too long a tale to tell of the endless discussions which took place, of the dull men and the brilliant men, the cranks and the thinkers, the men with long hair and the women with short hair, who debated and argued, and went for one another, and then debated and argued again. The main upshot was that these persons found themselves ultimately divided into two camps, not necessarily hostile, but laying emphasis on different aspects of the social movement. One of these was composed of persons who laid supreme stress on the need for ethical and spiritual change as a constant factor in the social movement, and as a coefficient with the material changes. These persons formed themselves into a little body called the New Fellowship, which still exists, small in numbers, but very earnest in purpose, and which publishes a small quarterly journal called _Seedtime_. The other class, which agreed with the Social Democratic Federation as to the urgent need for social and political change, but thought this must be very gradual, and its leaders persons of some culture and grasp of economics, formed the Fabian Society. This is the genesis of this active body.

There is a prevalent view, expressed sometimes in American newspapers, that the Socialist movement is largely made up of cranks and scoundrels--a view shared in a less degree by a portion of the English press. I believe there is in every country and age an abundant crop of both these classes; and assuredly the Socialist, like every other movement, has had its share of both. But to suppose that a great movement which is sweeping Europe from end to end, which has given birth to the largest single political party in Germany, which has gained victories innumerable in France, which is modifying the whole of English political life--to suppose that this movement is the outcome of the delusions of a few wicked or foolish men, is itself the delusion of people who are probably themselves not over-good or over-wise. In Marx, Lassalle, Rodbertus, Malon and others, the Socialist movement has been served by some of the best brains of our century; and it was no idle boast of Lassalle that he was equipped with all the best culture of his time. I know the inside of the Socialist movement well, and it certainly numbers among its adherents the ablest men I know. The Fabian Society contains not a few of these men. Walter Crane, the artist; Stopford Brooke, the preacher and man of letters; Grant Allen, one of the most versatile and accomplished men living; George Bernard Shaw, one of the most brilliant albeit whimsical of musical and dramatic critics; Miss Willard, one of America’s women reformers; Professor Shuttleworth, now London’s most popular and able Broad Church clergyman; Mr. D. G. Ritchie, of Oxford, foremost among English philosophic thinkers; Mrs. Theodore Wright, one of our most powerful actresses; Sergius Stepniak, next to Tolstoi the first of living Russians; Alfred Hayes, one of the first of our younger poets; Dr. Furnival, most learned and active of old English scholars,--these are among its members.

But it is not, of course, the mere inclusion of eminent people that gives a society force and authority. It is the being grounded in knowledge and ideas; and here the society is strong. It was recognized from the first by its members that the social problem cannot be solved by mere sentiment, though sentiment must be a factor in its solution. There must be a deal of hard thinking and severe study, not altogether in books (many of which on the economic problems before us are worthless), but in social facts. Its critics think the society has erred on the other side, and become too hard, and even cynical; but I confess I think that better than talking mere gushing moral platitudes which people applaud and then forget all about. The society has always steadily kept before it the idea that we are not looking for any millennium, any perfectly blissful earthly paradise, but that we are considering the much more prosaic question, how the economic interests of society are to be served, how the economic arrangements of society are to be carried on. Hence its members determined to equip themselves for their work by hard reading and thinking and by very stiff discussion of the crucial problems in history, economics and political philosophy. To this end they were greatly aided by a useful little Historical Society, which was formed in one of the suburbs of London, where every week an essay was read and completely discussed. I do not believe there are any better read or more acute minds in England than these of the young men who formed this group and who have largely remained the nucleus of the Fabian Society,--and this though they have their faults, like other people.

At first the idea was to have a very small number of members, scarcely more than could be gathered in a good-sized room in a private house. These were to be well trained and to be apostles. Gradually, however, the society grew and grew, the barriers of exclusion were broken down, and persons of less knowledge and experience were brought in. At the present time I think almost all callings are represented in the society. I find in the last list of members, lawyers, artists, journalists, doctors, workingmen, clergymen, teachers, trade-union leaders, literary people, shop-keepers and persons of no occupation. There are no millionnaires in the society, as there are no paupers, but there are a few quite well-to-do people. A large proportion are bright young men, and there are not a few bright and active women. Individual instances of the sort of people who belong and what they do are better than mere vague generalizations. Here are cases:--

A young man employed in the Central Post-Office at a salary of $650 a year. He has married a very charming and able girl, also a member. They occupy two or three rooms in a suburban house. The young lady has been elected as a guardian of the poor, the only woman among a number of men. Her husband devotes nearly all his spare time after office-hours to the society’s propaganda. He has had a little portable desk and stand made for himself, and at this he speaks in open spaces on street corners or wherever he can get an audience. His wife accompanies him and sells literature. Do not suppose that these are a blatant young demagogue and a conventional, strong-minded woman. Both are educated, intelligent, of sweet disposition; but the Socialist movement has taken hold of them and given them something they needed, lifted them above the region of what John Morley calls “greasy domesticity,” and taught them that there is a great suffering world beyond the four walls of home to be helped and worked for. Depend upon it, a movement which can do this has in it some promise of the future.