Section 3 (highest) | 27.2 | 38. | 23.1 | 11.7

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"It will be seen that the proportion of children classed as

'very good' in Section 3 is about ten times as large as in the

poorest section, and that _more than half of the children in

the poorest section are classed as 'bad.'_

"These 'bad' children presented a pathetic spectacle, all bore

some mark of the hard conditions against which they were

struggling. Puny and feeble bodies, dirty and often sadly

insufficient clothing, sore eyes, in many cases acutely

inflamed through continued want of attention, filthy heads,

cases of hip disease, swollen glands--all these and other

signs told the same tale of privation and neglect. It will be

noticed that the condition of the children in Section 2

(middle-class labour) comes about half-way between Sections 1

and 3. In considering the above table it must of course be

remembered that there was no absolute standard by which each

child could be judged, but the broad comparison between the

different classes is unimpeachable. The table affords further

evidence of serious physical deterioration amongst the poorest

section of the community."

And if York and London will not satisfy, let the reader take

Edinburgh, whose Charity Organization Society has produced an

admirable but infinitely distressing report of the physical conditions

of the school children there. It gives a summary account of the homes

of fourteen hundred children in one of the Edinburgh Elementary

Schools, selected because it represented a fair mixture of prosperous

and unprosperous people. I take the first ten entries of this list

just as they come, representing thirty-eight children, and they are a

fair sample of the whole list. No amount of writing could make these

little thumbnail sketches of the reality of domestic life among our

population to-day more impressive than they are, thus barrenly given.

"1. A bad home. Woman twice married; second husband deserted

her six or seven years ago and she now keeps a bad house in

which much drinking and rioting goes on. Daughter on stage

sends 10/- a week, son is out of work. A son is in an

institution. All as filthy as is the house. The food is

irregular. Two children have had free dinners from school this

and last winter, clothes were also given for one each time.

The boy attends regularly. The woman is a hard drinker, and

gets money in undesirable ways. The eldest child has glands,

neck; hair not good but clean; fleabitten. The second child,

adenoids and tonsils. Housing: five in one room. Evidence from

Police, School Charity, Headmistress, School Officers and

Doctors.

"2. The drinking capacity of this family cannot be too much

emphasized. The parents can't agree, and live apart, the man

allowing 7/6 a week when girl is with mother, and 5/- when she

comes to him. She is verminous and very badly kept. Mother

can't get charing, as she lives in so bad a neighbourhood, so

means to move; at present she keeps other women's babies at

6_d._ a day each. Elder boy out of work, a tidy lad, reads in

Free Library. One child has died. Housing: three in one room.

House not so very untidy. Evidence from Police, Church and

Officer.

"3. A miserable family and in very wretched circumstances.

Father deserts home at intervals, but last time seemed 'sent

back by providence,' as the works in the town he was in were

burnt down. Children starving in his absence; one had

pneumonia, and died since of the effects. The eldest child has

adenoids; the second, urticaria; lice, bad; clothes full of

pediculi. Housing: six in two rooms. Mother hard-working, does

her best, but has chronic bronchitis; does not keep house over

tidy. The two elder boys are very idle, tiresome fellows, and

worry the father a great deal. They improved and found work

during the year following the visit, in which time the father

got into decent work in the City. The S. P. C. C. branch had

to interfere on behalf of small children. Three dead since

marriage, when parents were at ages 23 and 20. Food good when

there is any. School gave free dinners and clothes to two.

Evidence from Police, S. P. C. C. branch, School Charity,

Parish Sister, Employer, Headmistress, School Officer and

Doctors.

"4. The father a complete wreck through intemperate and fast

living; speculation first brought him down. Was later moved to

hospital, where he died. Had worked on railway a little time.

Mother hard-working, works out, home untidy owing to her being

out so much. She pays rent regularly, and does her best. An

elder boy groom, fed and clad by his master, sends home what

he can. Eldest boy does odd jobs, but seems a wastrel. Parish

gave 7/6 after father ill, and feeds four children now. Winter

of visit school dined five free daily, and clothed three, and

previous winter three had free dinners and two had clothes. A

school-boy earns. The twins are delicate. There are two

lodgers. The eldest child very dirty; the second, glands; the

third, knock-kneed, pigeon chest; very feeble, enlarged

radices. Three children have died. Housing: nine in three

rooms. Evidence from Police, Poor Law Officer, Parish Sister,

School Charity, Army Charity, Children's Employment, School

Officer, Factor, Pawnbroker and Doctors.

"5. The mother, a nice, clean, tidy woman, doing pretty well

by the children. They kept a little shop for a time, and she

used to do a day's charing now and then, but has too many

babies now. Parents married at 21 and 18 respectively; two

children dead and another expected. He reads papers a good

deal, gets them out of trains. This is his first spell of

regular work. Two boys sell papers, and a Mission gives cheap

meal. Food none too plentiful. One child gets free dinners.

The eldest child has glands; impetigo; thin and badly

nourished. The second, glands, hair lice and nits bad. The

third, boils on neck, glands, thin. The fourth, glands.

Housing: eight in two rooms. They are in two thrift societies.

Evidence from School-master, Police, Parish Sister, Club, Army

Charity, Charity School, Pawnbroker and Doctors.

"6. Father works in a shop in daytime, and in a public-house

at night. Rather soft; but wife industrious and energetic and

does her best. Children well fed and regular at school. Two

children have enlarged tonsils. They get no help, and belong

to two thrift societies. One of six children dead in ten years

of married life. Housing: seven in two rooms. Evidence from

Police, Doctors, Society, Church, Mission, Club, Headmistress,

Charity School and Pawnbrokers.

"7. A family where parents are much given to drink; father

invalided and being helped by a Sick Society, 3/- a week, and

Parish 5/- a week. Housing: five in two rooms. They are in a

burying club. Children fleabitten. Two have died. Food is

rather scanty. Wife _very_ quarrelsome and drunken. The boys

play truant often. Two were given free food and clothes two

winters ago, and this winter one has free dinners and clothes

given. A Mission has given cheap clothes. Evidence from

School-master, Police, Poor Law Officer, C.O.S. branch,

Church, School Charity, Sick Society, Children's Employment,

Factor, School Officer, Charity School, Pawnbroker and

Doctors.

"8. Fairly decent family; mother washes out, and man has very

early work. He drinks, and his employment is somewhat

irregular. A son in the country on a farm, and two dead. They

were married at 21 and 18. The food is erratic, the children

getting 'pieces' at dinner-time, or free school dinners; or

when mother comes home, soup with her. The children are rather

neglected, and the police give the parents an indifferent

character. The eldest child has Eustacian catarrh and

nasopharyngitis; glands. The second, enlarged uvula. Housing:

four in two very small rooms. Evidence from School-master,

Police, Parish Sister, Church, Factor and Doctors.

"9. Father an old soldier without a pension, who reads novels.

All the small children were found eating a large meal of ham

and eggs and strong tea after 8 p.m., he in bed at the time.

They have lapsed from thrift society membership. They are

extremely filthy and the man drinks. A Mission sells them meal

cheap. Wife 18 at marriage and one child died. They feed

pretty largely but unhealthily, and eat 'pieces' at

lunch-time. At time of visit, though very dirty, they were

tidier than ever found before. The eldest child has chronic

suppuration and large perforation of ear. Housing: five in two

rooms. Evidence from Police, Parish Sister, Factor, Soldiers'

Society, Charity School and Doctors.

"10. The man a carter, who drank to a certain extent, and died

some months after visit, when a Charity gave her help. She had

an illegitimate child and two others. He was careless, and

both neglected church-going. No medical evidence. Housing:

five in two rooms. Evidence from Police, two Churches, Parish

Sister, Employer and Charity School."

§ 2.

Now to the Socialist, as to any one who has caught any tinge of the

modern scientific spirit, these facts present themselves simply as an

atrocious failure of statesmanship. Indeed, a social system in which

the mass of the population is growing up under these conditions, he

scarcely recognizes as a State, rather it seems to him a mere

preliminary higgledy-piggledy aggregation of human beings, out of

which a State has to be made. It seems to him that this wretched

confusion of affairs which repeats itself throughout the country

wherever population has gathered, must be due to more than individual

inadequacy; it must be due to some general and essential failure, some

unsoundness in the broad principles upon which the whole organization

is conducted.

What is this general principle of failure beneath all these particular

cases?

In any given instance this or that reason for the failure of a child

may be given. In one case it may be the father or mother drinks, in

another that the child is an orphan, neglected by aunt or stepmother,

in another that the mother is an invalid or a sweated worker too

overwrought to do much for him, or, though a good-hearted soul, she is

careless and dirty or ignorant, or that she is immoral and reckless,

and so on and so on. Our haphazard sample of ten Scotch cases gives

instances of nearly all these alternatives. And from these proximate

causes one might work back to more general ones, to the necessity of

controlling the drink traffic, of abolishing sweating, of shortening

women's hours of labour, of suppressing vice. But for the present

argument it is not necessary to follow up these special causes. We can

make a wider generalization. For our present analysis it is sufficient

to say that one more general maladjustment covers every case of

neglected or ill-brought-up children in the world, and that is this,

that with or without a decent excuse, the parent has not been equal to

the task of rearing a civilized citizen. We have demanded too much

from the parent, materially and morally, and the ten cases we have

quoted are just ten out of ten millions of the replies to that demand.

Of fifty-two children born, fourteen are dead; and of the remainder we

can hardly regard more than thirteen as being tolerably reared.

Is it not obvious then that, unless we are content that things should

remain as they are, we must put the relations of parent to child on

some securer and more wholesome footing than they are at the present

time? We demand too much from the parent, and this being recognized,

clearly there are only two courses open to us. The first is to relieve

the parents by lowering the standard of our demand; the second is to

relieve them by supplementing their efforts.

The first course, the Socialist holds, is not only cruel and unjust to

the innocent child, but an entirely barbaric and retrogressive thing

to do. It is a frank abandonment of all ideas of progress and world

betterment. He puts it aside, therefore, and turns to the alternative.

In doing that he comes at once into harmony with all the developmental

tendencies of the last hundred years. For a hundred years there has

been going on a process of supplementing and controlling parental

effort.

A hundred years or so ago, the parent was the supreme authority in a

child's destiny--short only of direct murder. Parents were held

responsible for their children's rearing to God alone; should they

fail, individual good-hearted people might, if they thought proper,

step in, give food, give help--provided the parents consented, that

is, but it was not admitted that the community as a whole was

concerned in the matter. Parents (and guardians in the absence of

parents) were allowed to starve their children, leave them naked, prey

upon their children by making them work in factories or as

chimney-sweeps and the like; the law was silent, the State acquiesced.

Good-hearted parents, on the other hand, who were unsuccessful in the

world's affairs, had the torment of seeing their children go short of

food and garments, grow up ignorant and feeble, their only hope of

help the chancy kindliness of their more prosperous neighbours and the

ill-organized charities left by the benevolent dead.

Through all the nineteenth century the irresistible logic of necessity

has been forcing people out of the belief in that state of affairs,

has been making them see the impossibility of leaving things so

absolutely to parental discretion and conscience, has been forcing

them towards a constructive and organizing, that is to say towards a

Socialist attitude. Essentially the Socialist attitude is this, an

insistence that parentage can no longer be regarded as an isolated

private matter; that the welfare of the children is of universal

importance, and must, therefore, be finally a matter of collective

concern. The State, which a hundred years ago was utterly careless of

children, is now every year becoming more and more their Guardian,

their Over-Parent.

To-day the power of the parents is limited in ways that would have

seemed incredible a hundred years ago. In the first place they must no

longer unrestrictedly use their very young children to earn money for

them in toil and suffering. A great mass of labour legislation forbids

them. In the next place their right to inflict punishment or to hurt

wantonly has been limited in many ways. The private enterprises of

charitable organizations for the prevention of cruelty and neglect has

led to a growing system of law in this direction also. Nor may a

parent now prevent a child getting some rudiments of an education.

Between the parent and Heaven now, in addition to the more or less

legalized voluntary interference of well-disposed private people,

there do appear certain rare functionaries who--while they interfere

not at all between good and competent parents and their children, do,

in certain instances, save a parental default from its complete

fruition. There are the school attendance officer and the sanitary

inspector. Then there are--in the London County Council area--the

"Ringworm" nurses, who examine the children systematically and by

means of certain white and red cards of remonstrance and warning

intimidate the parent into good behaviour or pave the way for a

prosecution. Everywhere there is the factory inspector--and in certain

cases the police. All these functionaries and "accessory consciences"

have been thrust in between the supremacy of the parent and the child

within the century.

So much the Socialist regards as all to the good, as all in the

direction of that great constructive plan of organized human welfare

at which he aims. And they all amount to a destruction, so much with

this and so much with that, of the independence of the family, an

invasion of the old moral isolation of parent and child.

But while a number of people (who haven't read the Edinburgh Charity

Organization Society's Report) are content to regard these

interventions as "going far enough," the Socialist considers these

things as only the beginning of the organization of the welfare of the

nation's children. You will notice that all these laws and regulations

at which we have glanced are in the nature of prohibitions or

compulsions; few have any element of aid. By virtue of them we have

diminished the power of the inferior sort of parents to do evil by

their child, but we have done little or nothing to increase and

stimulate their powers to do good. We may prevent them doing some

sorts of evil things to the child; they may not give it poisonous

things, or let it live in morally or physically contagious places, but

we do not insure that they shall give it wholesome things--better than

they had themselves. We must, if our work is ever to reach effectual

fruition, go on to the logical completion of that process of

supplementing the parent that the nineteenth century began.

Consider, for instance, the circumstances of parentage among the large

section of the working classes whose girls and women engage in factory

labour. In many cases the earnings of the woman are vitally necessary

to the solvency of the family budget, the father's wages do not nearly

cover the common expenditure. In some cases the women are unmarried,

or the man is an invalid or out of work. Consider such a woman on the

verge of motherhood. Either she must work in a factory right up to the

birth of her child--and so damage its health through her strain and

fatigue,[2] or she must give up her work, lose money and go short of

food and necessities and _so_ damage the coming citizen. Moreover,

after the child is born, either she must feed it artificially and

return to work (and prosperity) soon, with a very great risk indeed

that the child will die, or she must stay at home to nourish and tend

it--until her landlord sells her furniture and turns her out!

[2] The facts of the case are put very clearly, and quite

invincibly, by Miss Margaret Macmillan in _Infant

Mortality_. See also _The Babies' Tribute to the Modern

Moloch_, by F. Victor Fisher. (Twentieth Century Press,

1_d._) These are small polemical tracts. The case is treated

fully, authoritatively and without bias in _Infant

Mortality_ by Dr. G. Newman.

Now it does not need that you should be a Socialist to see how cruel

and ridiculous it is to have mothers in such a dilemma. But while

people who are not Socialists have no remedy to suggest, or only

immediate and partial remedies, such, for example, as the forbidding

of factory work to women who are about to be or have recently been

mothers--an expedient which is bound to produce a plentiful crop of

"concealment of birth" and infanticide convictions--the Socialist does

proffer a general principle to guide the community in dealing not only

with this particular hardship, but with all the kindred hardships

which form a system with it. He declares that we are here in the

presence of an unsound and harmful way of regarding parentage; that we

treat it as a _private affair_, that we are still disposed to assume

that people's children are almost as much their private concern as

their cats, and as little entitled to public protection and

assistance. The right view, he maintains, is altogether opposed to

this; parentage is a public service and a public duty; a good mother

is the most precious type of common individual a community can have,

and to let a woman on the one hand earn a living as we do, by sewing

tennis-balls or making cardboard boxes or calico, and on the other,

not simply not to pay her, but to impoverish her because she bears and

makes sacrifices to rear children, is the most irrational aspect of

all the evolved and chancy ideas and institutions that make up the

modern State. It is as if we believed our civilization existed to make

cheap cotton and tennis-balls instead of fine human lives.

The Socialist takes all that the nineteenth century has done in

remedial legislation as a mere earnest of all that it has still to do.

He works for a consistent application of the principle that England,

for example, tacitly admitted when she opened her public elementary

schools and compelled the children to come in; the principle that the

Community as a whole is the general Over-Parent of all its children;

that the parents must be made answerable to the community for the

welfare of their children, for their clear minds and clean bodies,

their eyesight and weight and training; and that, on the other hand,

the parents who do their duty well are as much entitled to collective

provision for their needs and economic security as a soldier, a judge

or any other sort of public servant.

§ 3.

Now do not imagine the case for the State being regarded as the

Over-Parent, and for the financial support of parents is based simply

upon the consideration of neglected, underfed, undereducated and

poverty-blighted children. No doubt in every one of the great

civilized countries of the world at the present time such children are

to be counted by the hundred thousand--by the million; but there is a

much stronger case to be stated in regard to that possibly greater

multitude of parents who are not in default, those common people, the

mass of our huge populations, the wives of the moderately skilled

workers or the reasonably comfortable employees, of the middling sort

of people, the two, three and four hundred pounds a year families who

toil and deny themselves for love of their children, and do contrive

to rear them cleanly, passably well grown, decent minded, taught and

intelligent to serve the future. Consider the enormous unfairness with

which we treat them, the way in which the modern State, such as it is,

trades upon their instincts, their affections, their sense of duty and

self-respect, to get from them for nothing the greatest social service

in the world.

For while the least fortunate sort of children have at any rate the

protection of the police and school inspectors, and the baser sort of

parent has all sorts of public and quasi-public helps and doles, the

families that make the middle mass of our population are still in the

position of the families of a hundred years ago, and have no help

under heaven against the world. It matters not how well the home of

the skilled artisan's wife or the small business man's wife has been

managed--she may have educated her children marvellously, they may be

clean, strong, courteous, intelligent--if the husband gets out of work

or suffers from business ill-luck or trade depression, or chances to

be killed uninsured, down they all go to want. Such insurance as they

are able to make, and it needs a tremendously heavy premium to secure

an insurance that will not mean a heavy fall of income with the

bread-winner's death--must needs be in a private insurance office, and

there is no effectual guarantee for either honesty or solvency in

that. In most of the petty insurance business the thrifty poor are

enormously overcharged and overreached. Rumour has been busy, and I

fear only too justly, with the financial outlook of some of the

Friendly Societies upon which the scanty security of so many

working-class families depends. Such investments as the lower and

middle-class father makes of surplus profits and savings must be made

in ignorance of the manoeuvres of the big and often quite ruthless

financiers who control the world of prices. If he builds or trades, he

does so as a small investor, at the highest cost and lowest profit.

Half the big businesses in the world have been made out of the lost

savings of the small investor; a point to which I shall return later.

People talk as though Socialism proposed to rob the thrifty

industrious man of his savings. He could not be more systematically

robbed of his savings than he is at the present time. Nowhere beyond

the limit of the Post Office Savings' Bank is there security--not even

in the gilt-edged respectability of Consols, which in the last ten

years have fallen from 114 to under 82. Consider the adventure of the

thrifty well-meaning citizen who used his savings-bank hoard to buy

Consols at the former price, and now finds himself the poorer for not

having buried his savings in his garden. The middling sort of man

saves for the sake of wife and child; our State not only fails to

protect him from the adventures of the manipulating financier, but it

deliberately avoids competition with banker, insurance agent and

promoter. In no way can the middle-class or artisan parent escape the

financier's power and get real security for his home or his children's

upbringing.

Not only is every parent of any but the richest classes worried and

discouraged by the universal insecurity of outlook in this private

adventure world, but at every turn his efforts to do his best for his

children are discouraged. If he has no children, he will have all his

income to spend on his own pleasures; he need only live in a little

house, he pays nothing for school, less for doctor, less for all the

needs of life, and he is taxed less; his income tax is the same, no

bigger; his rent, his rates, his household bills are all less....

The State will not even help him to a tolerable home, to wholesome

food, to needed fuel for the new citizens he is training for it. The

State now-a-days in its slow awakening does show a certain concern in

the housing of the lowest classes, a concern alike stimulated and

supplemented by such fine charities as Peabody's for example, but no

one stands between the two-hundred-a-year man and his landlord in the

pitiless struggle to get. For every need of his children whom he toils

to make into good men and women, he must pay a toll of owner's

profits, he must trust to the anything but intelligent greed of

private enterprise.

The State will not even insist that a sufficiency of comfortable,

sanitary homes shall be built for his class; if he wants the

elementary convenience of a bathroom, he must pay extra toll to the

water shareholder; his gas is as cheap in quality and dear in price as

it can be; his bread and milk, under the laws of supply and demand,

are at the legal minimum of wholesomeness; the coal trade cheerfully

raises his coal in mid-winter to ruinous prices. He buys clothes of

shoddy and boots of brown paper. To get any other is nearly impossible

for a man with three hundred pounds a year. His newspapers, which are

supported by advertisers and financiers, in order to hide the obvious

injustice of this one-man-fight against the allied forces of property,

din in his ears that his one grievance is local taxation, his one

remedy "to keep down the rates"--the "rates" which do at least repair

his roadway, police his streets, give him open spaces for his babies

and help to educate his children, and which, moreover, constitute a

burthen he might by a little intelligent political action shift quite

easily from his own shoulders to the broad support of capital and

land.

If the children of the decent skilled artisan and middle-class suffer

less obviously than the poorer sort of children, assuredly the parents

in wearing anxiety, in toil and limitation and disappointment, suffer

more. And in less intense and dramatic, but perhaps even more

melancholy ways, the children of this class do suffer. They do not die

so abundantly in infancy, but they grow up, too many of them, to

shabby and limited lives; in Britain they are still, as a class,

extraordinarily ill educated--many of them still go to incompetent,

understaffed and ill-equipped private adventure schools--they are sent

into business prematurely, often at fourteen or fifteen, they become

mechanical "respectable" drudges in processes they do not understand.

They may escape want and squalor for a while, perhaps, but they cannot

escape narrowness and limitation and a cramped and anxious life. If

they get to anything better than that, it is chiefly through almost

heroic parental effort and sacrifice.

The plain fact is that the better middle-class parents serve the State

in this matter of child-rearing, the less is their reward, the less is

their security, the greater their toil and anxiety. Is it any wonder

then that throughout this more comfortable but more refined and

exacting class, the skilled artisan and middle-class, there goes on

something even more disastrous, from the point of view of the State,

than the squalor, despair and neglect of the lower levels, and that is

a very evident strike against parentage? While the very poor continue

to have many children who die or grow up undersized, crippled or

half-civilized, the middle mass, which _can_ contrive with a struggle

and sacrifice to rear fairly well-grown and well-equipped offspring,

which has a conscience for the well-being and happiness of the young,

manifests a diminishing spirit for parentage, its families fall to

four, to three, to two--and in an increasing number of instances there

are no children at all.

With regard to the struggling middle-class and skilled artisan class

parent, even more than to the lower poor, does the Socialist insist

upon the plain need, if only that our State and nation should

continue, of endowment and help. He deems it not simply unreasonable

but ridiculous that in a world of limitless resources, of vast

expenditure, of unparalleled luxury, in which two-million-pound

battleships and multi-millionaires are common objects, the supremely

important business of rearing the bulk of the next generation of the

middling sort of people should be left almost entirely to the unaided,

unguided efforts of impoverished and struggling women and men. It

seems to him almost beyond sanity to suppose that so things must or

can continue.

§ 4.

And what I have said of the middle-class parent is true with certain

modifications of all the classes above it, except that in a monarchy

you reach at last one State-subsidized family--in the case of Britain

a very healthy and active group, the Royal family--which is not only

State supported, but also beyond the requirements of any modern

Socialist, State bred. There are enormous handicaps at every other

social level upon efficient parentage, and upon the training of

children for any public and generous end. Parentage is treated as a

private foible, and those who undertake its solemn responsibilities

are put at every sort of disadvantage against those who lead sterile

lives, who give all their strength and resources to vanity and

socially harmful personal indulgence. These latter, with an ampler

leisure and ampler means, determine the forms of pleasure and social

usage, they "set the fashion" and bar pride, distinction or relaxation

to the devoted parent. The typical British aristocrat is not parent

bred, but class bred, a person with a lively sense of social

influences and no social ideas. The one class that is economically

capable of making all that can be made of its children is demoralized

by the very irresponsibility of the wealth that creates this

opportunity. This is still more apparent in the American plutocracy,

where perhaps half the women appear to be artificially sterilized

spenders of money upon frivolous things.

No doubt there is in the richer strata of the community a certain

proportion of families with a real tradition of upbringing and

service; such English families as the Cecils, Balfours and Trevelyans,

for example, produce, generation after generation, public-spirited and

highly competent men. But the family tradition in these cases is an

excess of virtue rather than any necessary consequence of a social

advantage; it is a defiance rather than a necessity of our economic

system. It is natural that such men as Lord Hugh and Lord Robert

Cecil, highly trained, highly capable, but without that gift of

sympathetic imagination which releases a man from the subtle mental

habituations of his upbringing, should idealize every family in the

world to the likeness of their own--and find the Socialist's

Over-Parent of the State not simply a needless but a mischievous and

wicked innovation. They think--they will, I fear, continue to

think--of England as a world of happy Hatfields, cottage Hatfields,

villa Hatfields, Hatfields over the shop, and Hatfields behind the

farmyard--wickedly and wantonly assailed and interfered with by a band

of weirdly discontented men. It is a dream that the reader must not

share. Even in the case of the rich and really prosperous it is an

illusion. In no class at the present time is there a real inducement

to the effectual rearing of trained and educated citizens; in every

class are difficulties and discouragements.

This state of affairs, says the Socialist, is chaotic or indifferent

to a sea of wretchedness and failure, in health, vigour, order and

beauty. Such pleasure as it permits is a gaudy indulgence filched from

children and duty; such beauty--a hectic beauty stained with

injustice; such happiness--a happiness that can only continue so long

as it remains blind or indifferent to a sea of wretchedness and

failure. Our present system of isolated and unsupported families keeps

the mass of the world beyond all necessity painful, ugly and squalid.

It stands condemned, and it must end.

§ 5.

Let me summarize what has been said in this chapter in a compact

proposition, and so complete the statement of the First Main

Generalization of Socialism.

_The ideas of the private individual rights of the parent and of his

isolated responsibility for his children are harmfully exaggerated in

the contemporary world. We do not sufficiently protect children from

negligent, incompetent, selfish or wicked parents, and we do not

sufficiently aid and encourage good parents; parentage is too much a

matter of private adventure, and the individual family is too

irresponsible. As a consequence there is a huge amount of avoidable

privation, suffering and sorrow, and a large proportion of the

generation that grows up, grows up stunted, limited, badly educated

and incompetent in comparison with the strength, training and beauty

with which a better social organization could endow it._

_The Socialist holds that the community as a whole should be

responsible, and every individual in the community, married or single,

parent or childless, should be responsible for the welfare and

upbringing of every child born into that community. This

responsibility may be entrusted in whole or in part to parent, teacher

or other guardian--but it is not simply the right but the duty of the

State--that is to say of the organized power and intelligence of the

community--to direct, to inquire, and to intervene in any default for

the child's welfare._

_Parentage rightly undertaken is a service as well as a duty to the

world, carrying with it not only obligations but a claim, the

strongest of claims, upon the whole community. It must be provided for

like any other public service; in any completely civilized State it

must be sustained, rewarded and controlled. And this is to be done not

to supersede the love, pride and conscience of the parent, but to

supplement, encourage and maintain it._

§ 6.

This is the first of the twin generalizations upon which the whole

edifice of modern Socialism rests. Its fellow generalization we must

consider in the chapter immediately to follow.

But at this point the reader unaccustomed to social questions will

experience a difficulty. He will naturally think of this much of

change we have broached, as if it was to happen in a world that

otherwise was to remain just as the world is now, with merchants,

landowners, rich and poor and all the rest of it. You are proposing,

he may say, what is no doubt a highly desirable but which is also a

quite impossible thing. You propose practically to educate all the

young of the country and to pay at least sufficient to support them

and their mothers in decency--out of what? Where will you get the

money?

That is a perfectly legitimate question and one that must be answered

fully if our whole project is not to fall to the ground.

So we come to the discussion of material means, of the wherewithal,

that is to say to the "Economics" of Socialism. The reader will see

very speedily that this great social revolution we propose necessarily

involves a revolution in business and industry that will be equally

far reaching. The two revolutions are indeed inseparable, two sides of

one wheel, and it is scarcely possible that one could happen without

the other.

Of course the community supports all its children now--the only point

is that it does not support them in its collective character as a

State "as a whole." All the children in the world are supported by all

the people in the world, but very unfairly and irregularly, through

the intervention of that great multitude of small private proprietors,

the parents. When the parents fail, Charity and the Parish step in. If

the reader will refer to those ten cases from Edinburgh I have already

quoted in Chapter III., § 1, he will note that in eight out of the ten

there comes in the eleemosynary element; in the seventh case

especially he will get an inkling of its waste. A change in the system

that diminished (though it by no means abolished) this separate

dependence of children upon parents, each child depending upon those

"pieces" from its particular parental feast, need not necessarily

diminish the amount of wheat, or leather, or milk in the world; the

children would still get the bread and milk and boots, but through

different channels and in a different spirit. They might even get

more. The method of making and distribution will evidently have to be

a different one and run counter to currently accepted notions; that is

all. Not only is it true that a change of system need not diminish the

amount of food in the world; it might even increase it. The Socialist

declares that his system would increase it. He proposes a method of

making and distribution, a change in industrial conditions and in the

conventions of property, that he declares will not only not diminish

but greatly increase the production of the world, and changes in the

administration that he is equally convinced will insure a far juster

and better use of all that is produced.

This side of his proposals we will proceed to consider in our next

chapter.

New worlds for old: A plain account of modern socialism · 第 3 / 15 章