it was said, not once, but very generally: “We do not care to give
away 50 per cent. of our earnings and hard-earned interest on a
little money put by for old age and study, to a wasteful, shuffling
Government, for whose follies in the past we are called upon to pay.
We want, and mean to have, a real Democracy, not sham bureaucratic
Government pulled by red tape and the impulses of impetuous
politicians, who rush their fences when mounted upon lame hacks,
trusting to Providence to land them on the other side, if possible,
without a scratch. It has been known that riders have lost their
seats in this proceeding.” The foregoing are not opinions created
by the relator of this Dream, but constantly heard expressed by
all sorts and conditions of men and spoken in public as well as in
private; as such, together with more, equally trenchant and sensible,
they represent the public opinion of the new Communes.
Dreams, like life, have distasteful moments. Even in them there are
degrees of interest, commonplace situations, truisms, and paradox.
But one has no choice, things are chosen for one, and in the sequence
provided. Sometimes a very disorderly sequence! Subjects in a dream
are arranged with anything but mathematical precision. Perhaps that
constitutes half their charm. Everybody knows that the unexpected
happens in life, as in dreams. The unexpected is, in this case,
that the intellectual level in Britain rises higher and higher. The
arts and sciences are taking their place in the new kingdom, and
this, if it be true, is not an unnatural evolution, but a movement
in the direction of survival of the fittest. The barbarous period
of the near past was, in a sense, an accident. If, for a while, the
influence of mental morphia prevailed, instincts were too strong
to be permanently dulled. The spirit that was in the men who made
our great cathedrals, who furnished our country with the most
beautiful and desirable parish and village churches in all Europe, if
unproductive, was not dead. The labours of generations of scholars,
if put into the background in times of hurry-scurry, of facilities
of swift locomotion, hence of restlessness, have not been thrown
away. We were in such a desperate state of going to and fro that few
found time to pause and think, to ask themselves the question if it
were all worth while? If man, as a creative creature with a lot of
the Angel in him, was mistaking Means for Ends? Means there were,
and coming so swiftly that they jostled one another. So swiftly was
every facility absorbed and made use of to acquire wealth (honestly
or dishonestly didn’t matter) that the people were swept off their
balance and became as atoms driven hither and thither in chaos.
They mistook chaos for kosmos, licence for liberty, astuteness for
intellect, the transient for permanency, and small things for great
ones. The cry was, Agriculture does not pay. Of course it did not
under the unnatural conditions of the time. Once upon a time 3 or
5 per cent. was good interest. When 10 per cent. was demanded, and
much more hoped for, only gambling could provide it. Agriculture, the
first need to be demanded, was pushed out of the field by Industrial
Gambling. Ignorance of cause and effect, of the lessons to be got
from History, blinded the eyes of gamblers to the fact that the
fall of Roman power, while becoming almost universal, can be traced
to the cessation of corn growing in the Agro Romano. Trusting her
Colonies to provide grain led to idleness. A people, in the first
place agricultural, released from an effort of their genius, became
dilapidated and political; they exchanged Labour for luxury, easy
getting for dignified control, and Rome became extravagant, and so,
by degrees, she fell a victim to barbarians. She fell from a high to
a low estate. Once a victor, and then a victim to the worst plague
from which a nation can suffer: Idleness and greed for money without
paying the price for it, Labour!
§ 42
If Rome thus suffered, why should it be impossible or even unlikely
that a modern nation following the same road would not pay the
penalty! The desire to get rich at all costs did not only endanger
internal commerce and growth, but, affecting the whole soul of
the nation, blinded to all other matters. Literary standards were
lowered, Research was starved for want of funds; discoveries of the
power and mightiness of the Past were known only to a comparatively
few, rather held in contempt as Faddists, or, at the best, harmless
lunatics who grasped at a shadow and lived in a Phantom world
of their own making. Hence, compared with the great nations of
antiquity, Britain was providing little or nothing by which future
generations could gauge her creative intelligence or weigh it against
her ephemeral conquests. There is no surer sign of the decadence
of a nation than the cessation of Artistic activity. Politicians
are but “will o’ the wisps” in comparison with creative Artists.
They are but makeshifts, come to-day, gone to-morrow. What care we
for the Politics of Bacon, or whether Shakespeare was a Liberal or
Conservative? We know Milton was a Puritan; that does not matter,
because he was a Poet.
§ 43
Where are the law givers of the Elizabethan period? Dead letters.
That period is known and loved for the Poets it made, as well as for
discoveries by travellers and men of science. It was a time of great
craftsmanship also. It was a period of refined taste, when people
were not aware of the Treasures they were making for the future to
enjoy. The ambition to do that was quite outside the calculation of
the recent Philistines. “It is good enough for me.” “It will last my
time.” “It serves my purpose.” “I am a plain man!” Well, we all know
that you are a plain man, and a selfish, stagnant man as well, and a
person that leads to nothing, a brick wall at the end of the narrow
footway on which you press your unprogressive feet; your only use is
that you provide a subject for satire which Carlyle and Ruskin knew
so well how to employ.
§ 44
Trade is _much_ but not _everything_; it is noble when honestly
pursued, but may be entirely the reverse. Trade is for the provision
of food, clothing, warmth and sanitation. The service of Science
is to protect Health, to soften suffering, to add to our knowledge
of the wonders of the world we live in, to use its genius for
construction, not destruction, to, if possible, prolong life, not
destroy it, to make it happier, not sadder, to reveal the mysteries
of Movement, of Light, of Force, to tell us, however little, of the
Heavens and the Treasures still concealed in the little globe on
which we stand. This is much, and would seem to be enough to occupy
Science day and night. But there is another side to Science which is
deplorable.
To invent engines, gasses, and substitutes for nature’s products from
poisonous chemicals, is to abuse her genius, to fructify misery and
accelerate pain. When doing these things Science brutalizes herself,
distorts herself and renders herself a nuisance. By inventing engines
to destroy, Science encourages mankind’s worst instincts, and by
doing so is not advancing but delaying progress. Science can be
every bit as harmful as beneficial; she can be as great a curse as a
blessing. If the Great War did not teach that it has failed to teach
one of its profoundest lessons.
§ 45
The Germans, through the aid of their scientific men, carried War to
a depth of horror never before known. God help the world if Science
is again so employed next time, maybe, to the extinction of the
human race, certainly it will be to the extinction of all loveliness
that God and man have created. A few days ago I read noble words of
Anatole France to a teachers’ union: “_Arouse the hatred of hate_,”
“glorify Love and Work,” “Burn all books that _teach Hate_.” “The
hour has come for us all to be citizens of the World, but first of
our own land, or to see civilization perish.” “Train intelligent
workers, experts in the Arts they practice, knowing what they owe
to the community of the nation and to the World. Teach Reason,
Intelligence, Wisdom; the teachers of the future must teach the Love
of Peace and the Hatred of War.” These are strong words from a great
man.
By ingenious invention of destructive agents Science has been
glorified by War. Why? Because she has lined pockets with ill-gained
wealth; but, in reality, Science has debased herself. I would go a
step further. I would, if I could, destroy every tradition which
could prop up Science to do the like again. I would teach children
that when Science misconducts herself she is on the side of an evil,
not good, power.
§ 46
If a League of Nations is to succeed, the wings of Science must be
cut, her reckless flight, curtailed. Science has, by adaptation of
peaceful to aggressive purposes, committed a crime against herself.
She has used her children to be poisoners and murderers. Germany set
the example, under the title “Kultur,” a wolf in sheepskin. Science,
perverted from her noble initial intentions, became popular; she
became the means for fabulous fortunes; piles of money was the price
paid for her ghastly cleverness. A not very enviable class wore
diamonds, drove expensive cars and clad themselves in costly furs;
that is how they went into mourning for the slain. Science, pressed
on by commercial greed, lost a friend when War ceased. What hideous
contemplation; the slaughter of our children paying a hundred per
cent. profit.
Politicians may plan elaborate games. Complicated moves may look as
if checkmate was certain. No legislator, singular or plural, will
stop War. All Wars come from the commercial element in the first
place. War is made now for a purpose, and if we look that purpose
straight in the face it is “More money.” Plutus has been the god of
the modern world. As long as he reigns Wars will be. Politicians
and lawyers may try to wriggle out of it, but The Truth has a
disagreeable habit of cropping up. Sophistry may do its best to hide
it or drown it; it may be hidden but not destroyed. There is only one
way to stop War; to make people abominate it, scorn it as a stupid
reckless destroyer. Once there was chivalry, even a kind of noble
beauty in its conduct, which, superficially, redeemed it. The South
African War was a war to acquire diamonds; it was purely commercial,
hidden by sophistry under a garb of protection of public interest.
It was not public, but private commercial success which produced
a shameful disaster which came near to wreck England. When we are
really civilized and are engrossed in the Arts of Peace, when we
are all bent upon making the world a desirable place by making Life
growingly attractive, growingly efficacious for all the classes, War
will cease to have any attractions. When the beauty quite possible to
life is insisted upon by the exerted will of an entire people united
in Fraternity, united in schemes for the betterment of moral status,
of honour and of industry, War will cease, and not till then. When we
would clean out a pond, it is no use to scrape its surface of slime;
slime on the surface is only a superficial sign of trouble. The
bottom must be cleansed, that is where the real trouble is. It is of
little use to adorn a chair with fanciful design when its legs are
rotten, they must be made strong. The mass of the people is as the
clean bottom of a pond is to its surface, the chair to its legs. They
must be strengthened and purified by education, which is not arrived
at by a parrot-like repetition of facts or theories, but which
teaches the whole duty of man to man, hence to God. That is what our
new Education is trying to do. The child being father to the man, we
try to take him in hand at once, and through him re-establish honour,
sobriety, industrious habits which will lead his highest instincts
and teach him that he must be master of himself, to which, having
attained, he will be a guide, philosopher and friend to his and after
generations. Make the people love Beauty as a sign to goodness,
ugliness as a signpost to Evil. If that education fails none will
succeed.
This discourse was delivered by an Expert. He was no amateur in
Science; it was only that his fine mind was free from disillusion.
Right and wrong are on different planes. They are disconnected,
and he, being honest as well as gifted, had no intention of making
a compromise between them! He has a great following in the New
Life, and is a progressive power not only in his own but in all the
Communes of England.
§ 47
We have seen that Forestry has been reinstated, and under what
pleasant, profitable circumstances it grows. Now my dream takes
me on, and my spirit peregrinates in other localities and seeks
enlightenment. Windswept moors, and places where bogs are prevalent,
prove difficult antagonists to agriculture as generally practised.
It is true that what the Italians call “_terra ingrata_,” literally
translated, “unyielding soil,” is in England as well as in Italy
an obstinate problem, which it will take time to solve. In such
counties where there is much of this unyielding soil, science is
trying to find remedies or uses to which it can be put. Science is
busy with experiments. Effort is being made to discover what trees
(if any) can be planted with advantage in such districts; so far, the
pine is in favour. In the meantime, much more use is made of peat for
many purposes, as fuel for instance, and manure for gardens and the
growth of flowers and shrubs, which answer at once to its fructifying
influence. Extending my spirit flight through the length and breadth
of the land, I see that no land capable of growing grain is out of
service. Grain for bread, grass for cattle and sheep, unpolluted
rivers where ample supplies of fish are obtainable, and the nation is
provided against starvation, even in time of another War.
§ 48
“We are looking ahead now,” said one to another. “We are facing,
not avoiding, the consideration of anxious possibilities.” “Each
Commune of Britain is busy with problems to solve which will make
us safe in emergencies; the policy of ‘Wait and See,’ than which
none could be more dangerous to welfare, is treated (as it should
be) with contempt. ‘Up and doing’ has taken its place; we have had
enough of fallacious epigrams as catch words for opportunists.” The
River Severn, one of the most productive in England, has been taken
from German hands and is producing a goodly yield of food. There
was a prejudice against “coarse fish as an article of food; we are
returning to an old English habit of using it.” In old days most
of the monasteries were erected near a river; where that was not
possible, lakes were dug out and plentifully supplied with fish. We
have returned to use an important and nourishing food in localities
where it can be employed, and a great and growing industry is
proving a success, it is feeding a large section of the people. Sea
fishermen did not like it at first; it appeared to be an innovation
of their right, but since it has proved not to interfere with their
business it is accepted.
§ 49
There are many “practical” schemes being initiated. My dream leads me
now into matters not generally called “practical,” but are necessary
to a great nation. We all know (any way), who have read History what
we owe to-day to the Monastic system, which, with all its abuses,
did save learning. Monasteries were the Cabinets of tradition,
without which we might now be barbarians, and it was by no means all
for good they were suppressed. To Henry VIII. is not due all the
mischief which Cromwell completed. The lands belonging to the Church
were regarded with envy by the State before the coming of those two
powerful autocrates. Every one knows that, but every one does not
realise the debt we owe to a concentrated life going on amid war and
rapine. Good things, if once they have been proved good and useful,
are apt to crop up again. If not used exactly as they were, if the
principle which started them no longer prevails, if their recurrence
is not on the lines of what was called the “religious life,” the
results they achieved may be copied in a New Age and under a fresh
inspiration.
§ 50
Action and reaction are inevitable. Extended activities lead to
complications and concentrated action to simplicity. Thus men,
inclined towards quiet more than to jostle in the crowd, find it
necessary to retire to find peace to work out their destinies, and
in groups--in groups because continued solitude is paralysing, as
much to mental as physical activity. There be men who are born in
scholarship whose intuition is to research, they are the vessels that
hold learning, but not seldom they pour it out with difficulty. They
give it out drop by drop; they are to a nation what foundations are
to a building. In a sense they are passive. History, Archæology,
indeed, all the ologies, Art in its various branches, and Science in
hers, cannot get along without silent strenuous workers who are as
disinterested a race as our social system provides. Mostly poor, they
live in solitude, receiving little encouragement. If they happened to
have a small steady income it was heavily taxed. What with income,
super-taxes and rates, what remained of small income, at the best,
was reduced to less than that of an unskilled labourer. The New
Communes seek these valuable men, who, when found, are presented with
a “living wage.” Thus, some of the most valuable servants of the
State are, at least, placed upon a financial basis with unskilled
labour.
§ 51
There is another group of indispensable servants to the State which
was neglected, whose wages were less than the modern menial--the
teachers. They are men whose education has been costly to their
parents, who, in more cases than not, could ill afford the drain upon
their resources. While miners, servants, even ignorant boys employed
by publishers to wrap up books for distribution, were getting wages
out of all proportion to the work they were doing, these “teachers”
went quietly on with their useful labour, unnoticed and ill-paid.
They formed a large class of intelligence and usefulness which
constituted The New Poor!!! While the Government was conceding
principle after principle to “strikers” and to a whole army of
unreasonable discontent, the men who were working quietly for the
cause of Education remained outside the sympathy of Government
“Officials.” Under the New Commune a better and more just system
is at work. They are treated, having been chosen and selected with
care, as public servants, and as such they are paid; at least, they
are now upon a scale of pay equal to the scullery maid of the past.
“The profiteers,” often as ignorant as grasping, drove about the
country in expensive motor cars, while the makers of England, from
an intellectual point of view, were disregarded, even treated with
contempt, because the balance at their bankers was small, probably
nil, while that of Profiteers was such that their ladies were in
diamonds and furs, and Borough Councillors thrived upon the Rates.
Now, let me remember and state what, in my dream, such men are doing,
as public servants, for the previously unestimated value of education
for that part of the community which is called Labour. In one of the
most beautiful parts of Kent, once “the Garden” of England, under the
slope of its backbone, on which is the Pilgrims Way, the road from
London to Canterbury, is to be seen a straggling group of buildings,
evidently erected gradually as accommodation demanded. The starting
place was an old barn, one of those magnificent but simple buildings
which were next to the church in importance and only second to it in
noble proportions and dignified aspect. In a way, those old Tythe
barns represented the people and their agriculture as faithfully as
the churches their reverence and sacred traditions.
§ 52
Once the storehouse for grain, the Tythe barns were the meeting
place for landlords, their tenants, and country folk; the flail
made delightful music at threshing time. In them county dances were
held and seasons celebrated. Before the Town Hall was, they were.
In the new life the Tythe barn was used, in the first instance as a
dwelling place for a kind of Franciscan order, not bound by an oath
or dedicated to any sectarian creed; it is a place of retirement for
scholars as well as for communal activity. By degrees the little
community grew. New buildings, inexpensive but sanitary, have been
added; surrounding land purchased and cultivated with the specialties
common to the soil of Kent--Fruit and Hops. Hops especially, because
the New World repudiates “Kultur,” and no longer substitutes for that
fragrant and desirable fruit deleterious chemical products which
agents interested in a “Company” exploited against the original
article. The noisy, smoky threshing machine does not visit here;
grain is threshed by the flail. The occupiers of these buildings
subsist upon their own land; cows and goats give them milk; they
make their own bread, and brew their own light beer, and wines got
from the elder, the pear, apple and some sweet grapes grown and
flourishing well in sunny aspects.
§ 53
The community established here is voluntary, mostly composed of men
of small incomes, large intelligence, and varied pursuits. Being in
a sense public servants, they only pay a nominal tax to the Commune
for the use of the land, and no income _tax_ is levied from them.
Intellect contributes what money cannot buy.
So interesting was the appearance of this little nest of
disinterested men, so lively in surroundings, so snug in its
suggestion of quiet concentrated life, that my spirit sought to
examine it. It is high summer; the corn and fruit are ripening; the
hop gardens are laden with fragrance. It is that time of year when
repose seems to take the place of agricultural activity; the sun is
hot, the air full of the hum of bees. It is the midday of the year
when, as the old pagans told, the gods sleep. The sun, no longer
hidden by smoke, is doing his work, preparing for the gathering
time, fruitful autumn! Something after an old monastery it is. A
refectory, and a kitchen built after the plan of that at Glastonbury,
denote a goodly company to feed. Every member of the order has his
sleeping cell. Those whose avocations are primarily studious have a
study to themselves. It is noon, a bell rings. Soon the refectory is
full, accommodated to hold fifty or sixty men of different ages and
occupations. One could easily pick out the scholars from the active
workers. There appeared to be no servants, so called; the cook was
of the order; they waited upon themselves. What is the main business
of the Order? It is “teaching.” The Prior, or he in priority, is
a distinguished old man. I noticed or learnt by listening, that
sectarian creeds did not exist here. They were just Christians,
_i.e._, who work for others, give of their experience and knowledge
freely and abundantly. The Athenic academy must have been something
like this modern adaptation of Plato’s republic; who knows if there
be not a Socrates among them?