CHAPTER XXIV

SECOND DAY

(_Adjourned Discussion upon the first point on the Agenda_)

LEOPOLD STOCKAU (_Centre_) re-opened the debate: I think that the

preliminary question, whether our present endeavours after economic justice

really are without any historical precedent, was exhaustively discussed

yesterday and was answered in the negative. At least, I am authorised by

yesterday's speakers of the opposite party to declare that they are fully

convinced that the teaching of Christ differs in no essential point from

that which is practically carried out in Freeland, and which we wish to

make the common property of the whole world. We now come to the main

subject of the first question for discussion--namely, to the inquiry why

the former attempts to base human industry upon justice and freedom have

been unsuccessful.

The answer to this question has already been suggested by the last speaker

of yesterday. Former attempts miscarried because they aimed at establishing

the equality of poverty: ours will succeed because it implies the equality

of wealth. The equality of poverty would have produced stagnation in

civilisation. Art and science, the two vehicles of progress, assume

abundance and leisure; they cannot exist, much less can they develop, if

there are no persons who possess more than is sufficient to satisfy their

merely animal wants. In former epochs of human culture it was impossible to

create abundance and leisure for all--it was impossible because the means

of production would not suffice to create abundance for all even if all

without exception laboured with all their physical power; and therefore

much less would they have sufficed if the workers had indulged in the

leisure which is as necessary to the development of the higher intellectual

powers as abundance is to the maturing of the higher intellectual needs.

And since it was not possible to guarantee to all the means of living a

life worthy of human beings, it remained a sad, but not less inexorable,

necessity of civilisation that the majority of men should be stinted even

in the little that fell to their share, and that the booty snatched from

the masses should be used to endow a minority who might thus attain to

abundance and leisure. Servitude was a necessity of civilisation, because

that alone made possible the development of the tastes and capacities of

civilisation in at least a few individuals, while without it barbarism

would have been the lot of all.

It is, moreover, a mistake to suppose that servitude is as old as the human

race: it is only as old as civilisation. There was a time when servitude

was unknown, when there were neither masters nor servants, and no one could

exploit the labour of his fellow-men; that was not the Golden, but the

Barbaric, Age of our race. While man had not yet learnt the art of

_producing_ what he needed, but was obliged to be satisfied with gathering

or capturing the voluntary gifts of nature, and every competitor was

therefore regarded as an enemy who strove to get the same goods which each

individual looked upon as his own special prey, so long did the struggle

for existence among men necessarily issue in reciprocal destruction instead

of subjection and exploitation. It did not then profit the stronger or the

more cunning to force the weaker into his service--the competitor had to be

killed; and as the struggle was accompanied by hatred and superstition, it

soon began to be the practice to eat the slain. A war of extermination

waged by all against all, followed generally by cannibalism, was therefore

the primitive condition of our race.

This first social order yielded, not to moral or philosophical

considerations, but to a change in the character of labour. The man who

first thought of sowing corn and reaping it was the deliverer of mankind

from the lowest, most sanguinary stage of barbarism, for he was the first

producer--he first practised the art not only of collecting, but of

producing, food. When this art so improved as to make it possible to

withdraw from the worker a part of his produce without positively exposing

him to starvation, it was gradually found to be more profitable to use the

vanquished as beasts of labour than as beasts for slaughter. Since slavery

thus for the first time made it possible for at least a favoured few to

enjoy abundance and leisure, it became the first promoter of higher

civilisation. But civilisation is power, and so it came about that slavery

or servitude in one form or another spread over the world.

But it by no means follows that the domination of servitude must, or even

can, be perpetual. Just as cannibalism--which was the result of that

minimum productiveness of human labour by means of which the severest toil

sufficed to satisfy only the lowest animal needs of life--had to succumb to

servitude as soon as the increasing productiveness of labour made any

degree of abundance possible, so servitude--which is nothing else but the

social result of that medium measure of productiveness by which labour is

able to furnish abundance and leisure to a few but not to all--_must_ also

succumb to another, a higher social order, as soon as this medium measure

of productiveness is surpassed, for from that moment servitude has ceased

to be a necessity of civilisation, and has become a hindrance to its

progress.

And for generations this has actually been the case. Since man has

succeeded in making the forces of nature serviceable in production--since

he has acquired the power of substituting the unlimited elemental forces

for his own muscular force--there has been nothing to prevent his creating

abundance and leisure for all; nothing except that obsolete social

institution, servitude, which withholds from the masses the enjoyment of

abundance and leisure. We not merely can, but we shall be compelled to make

social justice an actual fact, because the new form of labour demands this

as imperatively as the old forms of labour demanded servitude. Servitude,

once the vehicle of progress, has become a hindrance to civilisation, for

it prevents the full use of the means of civilisation at our disposal. As

it reduces to a minimum the things consumed by most of our brethren, and

therefore does not call into play more than a very small part of our

present means of production, it compels us to restrict our productive

labour within limits far less than those to which we should attain if an

effective demand existed for what would then be the inevitable abundance of

all kinds of wealth.

I sum up thus: Economic equality of rights could not be realised in earlier

epochs of civilisation, because human labour was not then sufficiently

productive to supply wealth to all, and equality therefore meant poverty

for all, which would have been synonymous with barbarism. Economic equality

of rights not only can but _must_ now become a fact, because--thanks to the

power which has been acquired of using the forces of nature--abundance and

leisure have become possible for all; but the full utilisation of the now

acquired means of civilisation is dependent on the condition that everyone

enjoys the product of his own industry.

SATZA-MUNI (_Right_): I think it has been incontrovertibly shown that

economic equality of rights was formerly impossible, and that it _can_ now

be realised; but why it _must_ now be realised does not seem to me to have

been yet placed beyond a doubt. So long as the productiveness of labour was

small, the exploitation of man by man was a necessity of civilisation--that

is plain; this is no longer the case, since the increased productiveness of

labour is now capable of creating wealth enough for all--this is also as

clear as day. But this only proves that economic justice has become

possible, and there is a great difference between the possible and the

necessary existence of a state of things. It has been said--and the

experience of the exploiting world seems to justify the assertion--that

full use cannot be made of the control which science and invention have

given to men over the natural forces, while only a small part of the fruits

of the thus increased effectiveness of labour is consumed; and if this can

be irrefutably shown to be inherent in the nature of the thing, there

remains not the least doubt that servitude in any form has become a

hindrance to civilisation. For an institution that prevents us from making

use of the means of civilisation which we possess is in and of itself a

hindrance to civilisation; and since it restrains us from developing wealth

to the fullest extent possible, and wealth and civilisation are power, so

there can consequently be no doubt as to why and in what manner such an

institution must in the course of economic evolution become obsolete. The

advanced and the strong everywhere and necessarily imposes its laws and

institutions upon the unprogressive and the weak; economic justice would

therefore--though with bloodless means--as certainly and as universally

supplant servitude as formerly servitude--when it was the institution which

conferred a higher degree of civilisation and power--supplanted

cannibalism. I have already admitted that the modern exploiting society is

in reality unable to produce that wealth which would correspond to the now

existing capacity of production: hence it follows as a matter of fact that

the exploiting society is very much less advanced than one based upon the

principle of economic justice, and it also quite as incontrovertibly

follows that the former cannot successfully compete with the latter.

But before we have a right to jump to the conclusion that the principles of

economic justice must necessarily be everywhere victorious, it must be

shown that it is the essential nature of the exploiting system, and not

certain transitory accidents connected with it, which makes it incapable of

calling forth all the capacity of highly productive labour. Why is the

existing exploiting society not able to call forth all this capacity?

Because the masses are prevented from increasing their consumption in a

degree corresponding to the increased power of production--because what is

produced belongs not to the workers but to a few employers. Right. But, it

would be answered, these few would make use of the produce themselves. To

this the rejoinder is that that is impossible, because the few owners of

the produce of labour can use--that is, actually consume--only the smallest

portion of such an enormous amount of produce; the surplus, therefore, must

be converted into productive capital, the employment of which, however, is

dependent upon the consumption of those things that are produced by it.

Very true. No factories can be built if no one wants the things that would

be manufactured in them. But have the masters really only this _one_ way of

disposing of the surplus--can they really make no other use of it? In the

modern world they do as a matter of fact make no other use of it. As a

rule, their desire is to increase or improve the agencies engaged in

labour--that is, to capitalise their profits--without inquiring whether

such an increase or improvement is needed; and since no such increase is

needed, so over-production--that is, the non-disposal of the produce--is

the necessary consequence. But because this is the fact at present, _must_

it necessarily be so? What if the employers of labour were to perceive the

true relation of things, and to find a way of creating an equilibrium by

proportionally reducing their capitalisation and increasing their

consumption? If that were to happen, then, it must be admitted, all

products would be disposed of, however much the productiveness of labour

might increase. The consumption by the masses would be stationary as

before; but luxury would absorb all the surplus with exception of such

reserves as were required to supply the means of production, which means

would themselves be extraordinarily increased on account of the enormously

increased demand caused by luxury.

And who will undertake to say that such a turn of affairs is altogether

impossible? The luxury of the few, it is said, cannot possibly absorb the

immense surplus of modern productiveness. But why not? Because a rich man

has only one stomach and one body; and, moreover, everyone cannot possibly

have a taste for luxury. Granted; luxury, in its modern forms, cannot

possibly consume more than a certain portion of the surplus produce of

modern labour. But are we shut up to these modern kinds of luxury? What if

the wealthy once more have recourse to a mode of spending repeatedly

indulged in by antiquity in order to dispose of the accumulating proceeds

of slave-labour? In ancient Egypt a single king kept 200,000 men busy for

thirty years building his sepulchre, the great pyramid of Ghizeh. This same

Pharaoh probably built also splendid palaces and temples with a no less

profligate expenditure of human labour, and amassed treasures in which

infinite labour was crystallised. Contemporaneously with him, there were

other Egyptian magnates, priests, and warriors in no small number, who

sought and found in similar ways employment for the labour of their slaves.

If the luxury of the living did not consume enough, then costly spices,

drink-offerings and burnt-offerings were lavished upon the dead, and thus

the difficulty of disposing of the accumulated produce of labour was still

further lightened. And this succeeded admirably. The Egyptian slave

received a few onions and a handful of parched corn for food, a loin-cloth

for clothing; and yet, notwithstanding a comparatively highly developed

productiveness of the labour of countless slaves exploited by a few

masters, there was no over-production. In ancient India the men in power

excavated whole ranges of hills into temples, covered with the most

exquisite sculptures, in which an infinite amount of labour was consumed;

in ancient Rome the lords of the world ate nightingales' tongues, or

instituted senseless spectacles, in order to find employment for the

superfluous labour of countless slaves who, despite the considerable

productiveness of labour, were kept in a condition of the deepest misery.

And it answered. Why should not such a course answer in modern times?

Because, thanks to the control we have acquired over nature, the

productiveness of labour has become infinitely greater. Labour may have

become infinitely more productive; indeed, I think it probable that it is

no longer possible for the maddest prodigality of the few wealthy to give

_full_ employment to the whole of the labour-energy at present existing

without admitting the masses to share in the consumption; but it would be

possible for the wealthy to consume a very large portion of the possible

produce. Then why does the modern exploiting society build no pyramids, no

rock palaces; why do the lords of labour institute no costly cultus of the

dead; why do they not eat nightingales' tongues, and keep the exploited

populace busy with circus spectacles and mock sea-fights? They could

indulge in these and countless other things, if they only discovered that

the surplus must be consumed and not capitalised. But as long as they

continue to multiply the instruments of labour, and only the instruments of

labour, so long are they simply increasing over-production, and can become

richer only in proportion as the consumption accidentally increases. As

soon, however, as they adopt the above-mentioned expedient, the connection

between their wealth and the lot of the masses is broken. Why does not this

happen?

I hope it is not necessary for me expressly to assert that I am far from

wishing for such a turn in affairs; rather, I should look upon it as the

greatest misfortune that could befall mankind, for it would mean that,

despite the enormously increased productiveness of labour, exploitation was

not necessarily a hindrance to civilisation, and consequently would not

necessarily be superseded by economic justice. But Confucius says rightly,

that what is to be deplored is not always to be regarded as impossible or

even as only improbable.

JOHN BELL (_Centre_): The last speaker, who in other respects shows himself

to be a profound thinker, overlooks the fact that the completest

utilisation of the existing means of civilisation and the corresponding

evolution of wealth are not the only determining criteria in the struggle

for existence among nations. The strength of a nation that employs its

wealth in fostering the higher development of the millions of its subjects,

will ultimately become very different from that of a nation which consumes

an equal amount of wealth merely in increasing the enjoyment, nay, the

senseless luxury, of the ruling classes.

ARISTID-KOLOTRONI (_Centre_): The last speaker is correct in what he says,

although it may be objected that the wealthy are not necessarily obliged to

consume their wealth in senseless luxury: they might just as well gratify

their pride by boundless benevolence, accompanied by enormous expenditure

in all imaginable kinds of scientific, artistic and other institutions of

national utility. But I think we are getting away from the main point,

which is: is such a turn of affairs possible? The fact that it has not

occurred, despite all the evils of over-production, that on the contrary a

continually growing desire to capitalise all surplus profits dominates the

modern world, should save us from a fear of such a contingency.

KURT OLAFSOHN (_Freeland_): I must agree with Satza-Muni, the honourable

member for Japan, so far as to admit that the bare fact that such a

contingency has not yet been realised cannot set our minds completely at

rest. The consideration advanced by the two following speakers as to

whether an exploiting society in which the consumption by the wealthy

increases indefinitely must, under all circumstances, succumb to the

influence of the free order of society, appears arbitrary and inconclusive.

I venture to think that the free society does not possess the aggressive

character of the exploiting society, and that therefore the latter, even

though it should prove to be decidedly the weaker of the two, may continue

to exist for some time side by side with the other so far as it does not

itself recognise the necessity of passing over to the other. And this

recognition would be materially delayed by the fact that the ruling classes

profit by the continuance of exploitation. The change could then be

effected universally only by sanguinary conflicts, whilst we lay great

stress upon the winning over of the wealthy to the side of the reformers.

It is the enormous burden of over-production that opens the eyes of

exploiters to the folly of their action; should this spur be lacking, the

beneficial revolution would be materially delayed. The member for Japan is

also correct in saying that repeatedly in the course of history the surplus

production which could not be consumed in a reasonable manner has led the

exploiting lords of labour to indulge in senseless methods of consumption.

It may therefore be asked whether what has repeatedly happened cannot

repeat itself once more; but a thorough investigation of the subject will

show that the question must be answered with a decided _No_.

No, it _can_ never happen again that full employment for highly productive

labour will be found except under a system of economic justice; for since

it last occurred, a new factor has entered into the world which makes it

for all times an impossibility. This factor is the mobilisation of capital

and the consequent separation of the process of capital formation from the

process of capital-using. Anyone who in Ancient Egypt or Ancient Rome had

surplus production to dispose of and wished to invest it profitably,

therefore in the form of aids to labour, must either himself have had a

need of aids to labour, or must have found someone else who had such a need

and was on that account prepared to take his surplus, at interest of

course. It was impossible for anyone to invest capital unless someone could

make use of such capital; and if this latter contingency did not occur, it

was a matter of course that the possessor of the surplus production,

unusable as capital, should seek some other mode of consuming it. Many such

modes offered themselves, differing according to the nature of the several

kinds of exploiting society. If the constitution of the commonwealth was a

patriarchal one, the labour which had become more productive would be

utilised in improving the condition of the serfs, in mitigating the

severity of their labour. In a commonwealth of a more military character

the increasing productiveness of labour would serve to enlarge the

non-labouring, weapon-bearing class. If--as was always the case when

civilisation advanced--the bond between lord and serf became laxer, the

lord merely increased his luxury. But, in any case, the surplus which could

not be utilised in the augmentation or improvement of labour was consumed,

and there could therefore be no over-production. As now, however, the

possessor of surplus produce can--even when no one has a need of his

savings--obtain what he wants, viz. interest, he has ceased to concern

himself as to whether that surplus is really required for purposes of

production, but is anxious to capitalise even that which others can make as

little use of as he can.

And this, in reality, is the result of the mobilisation of capital. Since

this discovery has been made, all capital is as it were thrown into one

lump, the profits of capital added to it, and the whole divided among the

capitalists. No one needs my savings, they are absolutely superfluous, and

can bear no fruit of any kind; nevertheless I receive my interest, for the

mobilisation of capital enables me to share in the profits of

profit-bearing, that is, of really working, capital. I deposit my savings

at interest in a bank, or I buy a share or a bill and thereby raise the

price of all other shares or bills correspondingly, and thus make it appear

as if the capital which they represent had been increased, while in truth

it has remained unchanged. And the produce of this working capital has not

increased through the apparent addition of my capital; the interest paid on

the whole amount of capital including mine is not more than that paid on

the capital before mine was added to it. The addition of my superfluous

capital has lowered the _rate_ of interest, or, what comes to the same

thing, has raised the price of a demand for the same rate of interest as

before; but even a diminished rate of interest is better than no interest

at all. I continue, therefore, to save and capitalise, despite the fact

that my savings cannot be used productively as capital; nay, the

above-mentioned diminution of the rate of interest impels me, under certain

circumstances, to save yet more carefully, that is, to diminish my

consumption in proportion as my savings become less remunerative. It is

evident that my surplus produce cannot find any productive employment at

all, yet there is no way out of this circle of over production. Luxury

cannot come in as a relief, because the absence of any profitable

employment for the surplus renders that surplus valueless, and the ultimate

result is the non-production of the surplus. Only exceptionally is there an

actual production of unconsumable and, consequently, valueless things; the

almost unbroken rule is that the things which no one can use, and which

therefore are valueless, will not be produced. Since the employer leaves to

the worker only a bare subsistence, and can apply to capitalising purposes

only so much as is required for the production of consumable commodities,

every other application of the profits being excluded by capitalism, he

cannot produce more than is enough to meet these two demands. If he

attempts to produce more, the inevitable result is not increased wealth,

but a crisis.

We have, therefore, no ground to fear that the ruling classes will again,

as in pro-capitalistic epochs, be able to enjoy the fruits of the

increasing productiveness of labour without allowing the working masses to

participate in that enjoyment. Capitalism, though by no means--as some

socialistic writers have represented--the cause of exploitation, is the

obstacle which deprives modern society of every other escape from the fatal

grasp of over-production but that of a transition to economic justice. It

is the last stage in human economics previous to that of social justice.

From capitalism there is no way forward but towards social justice; for

capitalism is at one and the same time one of the most effectual

provocatives of productivity and the bond which indissolubly connects the

increase of the effective production of wealth with consumption.

WILHELM OHLMS (_Right_): Then how is it that the Freeland institutions,

which are to become those of the whole of civilised mankind, have broken

with capitalism?

HENRI FARR (_Freeland_): So far as by capitalism is to be understood the

conversion of any actual surplus production into working capital, we in

Freeland are far from having broken with it. On the contrary, we have

developed it to the utmost, for much more fully than in the exploiting

capitalistic society are our savings at all times at the disposal of any

demand for capital that may arise. But our method of accumulating and

mobilising capital is a very different and much more perfect one: the

solidarity of interest of the saver with that of the employer of capital

takes the place of interest. This form of capitalism can never lead to

over-production, for under it--as in the pre-capitalistic epoch--it is the

demand for capital that gives the first impulse to the creation of capital.

But that this kind of capitalisation is impracticable in an exploiting

society needs no proof. For such a society there is no other means of

making the spontaneously accumulating capital serviceable to production

than that of interest; and as soon as the mobilisation of capital dissolves

the immediate personal connection between saver and employer of capital,

creditor and debtor, interest inevitably impels to over-production, from

which there is no escape except in economic justice--or relapse into

barbarism. [Loud and general applause.]

The PRESIDENT here asked if anyone else wished to speak upon point 1 of the

Agenda; and, as no one rose, he declared the discussion upon this subject

closed.

The Congress next proceeded to discuss point 2:--

_Is not the success of the Freeland institutions to be attributed merely to

the accidental and therefore probably transient co-operation of specially

favourable circumstances; or do those institutions rest upon conditions

universally present and inherent in human nature?_

GEORGE DARE (_Right_) opened the debate: We have the splendid success of a

first attempt to establish economic justice so tangibly before us in

Freeland, that there is no need to ask whether such an attempt _can_

succeed. It is another question whether it _must_ succeed, and that

everywhere, because it has succeeded in this one case. For the

circumstances of Freeland are exceptional in more than one respect. Not to

mention the pre-eminent abilities, the enthusiasm and the spirit of

self-sacrifice which marked the men who founded this fortunate

commonwealth, and some of whom still stand at its head, men such as it is

certain will not everywhere be found ready at hand, it must not be

overlooked that this country is more lavishly endowed by nature than most

others, and that a broad band of desert and wilderness protected it--at

least at first--from any disturbing foreign influence. If men of talent,

enjoying the unqualified confidence of their colleagues, are able on a soil

where every seed bears fruit a hundredfold to effect the miracle of

conjuring inexhaustible wealth for millions out of nothing, of

exterminating misery and vice, of developing the arts and sciences to the

fullest extent,--all this is, in my opinion, no proof that ordinary men,

given perhaps to squabbling with each other, and to being mutually

distrustful, will achieve the like or even approximately similar results on

poorer land and in the midst of the turmoil of the world's competitive

struggle. My doubts upon this point will appear the more reasonable when it

is remembered that in America we have witnessed hundreds upon hundreds of

social experiments which have all either proved to be in a greater or less

degree miserable fiascos, or at least have only assumed the proportion of

isolated successful industrial enterprises. It is true that some of our

efforts at revolutionising modern society have had remarkable pecuniary

results; but that has been all: a new, practicable foundation of the social

organisation they have not furnished, not even in germ. I wished to give

expression to these doubts; and before allowing ourselves to be intoxicated

by the example of Freeland, I wished to invite you to a sober consideration

of the question whether that which is successful in Freeland must

necessarily succeed in the rest of the world.

THOMAS JOHNSTON (_Freeland_): The previous speaker makes a mistake when he

ascribes the success of the Freeland undertaking to exceptionally

favourable conditions. That our soil is more fertile than that of most

other parts of the world is, it is true, a permanent advantage, which,

however, accrues to us merely in the item of cost of carriage; for, after

allowing for this, the advantage of the fertility of our soil is equally

shared by all of you everywhere, wherever railways and steam-vessels can be

made use of. Isolation from the market of the world by broad deserts was at

first an advantage; but it would now be a disadvantage if we had not made

ourselves masters of those deserts. And as to the abilities of the Freeland

government, I must--not out of modesty, but in the name of truth--decline

the compliments paid us. We are not abler than others whom you might find

by the dozen in any civilised country. Only in one point were we in advance

of others, namely, in perceiving what was the true basis of human

economics. But the advantage which this gave us was only a temporary one,

for at present you have men in abundance in every part of the civilised

world who have become as wise as we are even in this matter. The advantage

we derived from being the first in this movement was that we have enjoyed

for nearly a generation the happiness in which you are only now preparing

to participate. Freeland's advantages are due simply to the date of its

foundation, and have now lost their importance. Now that the establishment

of a world-wide freedom is contemplated, there will no longer be any

national advantages or disadvantages. What belongs to us belongs to you

also, and what is wonderful is that we as well as you will become richer in

proportion as each of us is obliged to allow all the others to share

quickly, easily, and fully our own wealth. We have suffered from being

compelled to enjoy our wealth alone, and we shall become richer as soon as

you share that wealth; and in the same way will you become richer as others

share in your wealth. For herein lies the solidarity of interest that is

associated with true freedom, that every existing advantage in

production--such as wealth is--can be the more fully utilised the wider the

circle of those who enjoy its fruits.

That those attempts, of which the last speaker spoke, all miscarried is due

to the fact that they were all based upon wrong principles. The only thing

they have in common with what we have carried out in Freeland, and what you

now wish to imitate, is the endeavour to find a remedy for the misery of

the exploiting world; but the remedy which we seek is a different one from

that which they sought, and in that--not in exceptional advantages which we

may have had--lies the cause of our success and of their miscarriage.

For it was not by the aid of economic justice that they sought to attain

their end; they sought deliverance from the dungeon of exploitation,

whether by a way which did not lead out of it, or by a way which, though it

led out of that dungeon, yet led into another and more dreadful one. In

none of those American or other social experiments, from the Quaker

colonies to the Icaria of Cabet, was the full and undiminished produce of

labour ever assured to the worker; on the contrary, the produce belonged

either to small capitalists who, while themselves taking part in the

undertaking as workers, shared the produce according to the amount of

capital they had invested, or it belonged to the whole as a body, who as

such had a despotic right of disposal over both the labour and the produce

of the labour of every individual. These reformers were, without exception,

associated small capitalists or communists. They were able, if they had

specially good fortune, or if they were under specially able direction, to

achieve transient success; but a revolution of the current industrial

system by them was not to be thought of.

(_End of Second Day's Debate_)

Freeland: A Social Anticipation · 第 17 / 21 章