LIFE. WHO ARE THE SOCIALISTS?

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2366, 5 December 1908, Page 12 (Supplement)

LIFE.

WHO ARE THE SOCIALISTS?

A little work, a little play To keep us going—and so Good day I A little warmth, a little flight Of love's bestowing—and so Good night I A little fun to match the sorrow Of each day’s journey—and so Good morrow! A little trust, that when we die "We reap our sowing—and so Good-bye!

A SPIRITED DEFENCE

A study of hundreds of articles and letters in the daily press makes it very evident that we shall have to do a lot oi : hard work before we get the general public to understand Socialism. It the Tories are skoc'kecl and surprised by the strength of the label movement, I am shocked and suiprised by the ignorance of our opponents. We liavo got to begin all over again, and explain what Socialism is, and what it is not. Here, now, is an anonymous postcard, which, ridiculous as it is, seems worth a few words, becauses it expresses opinions which we often hear in the streets .and in the trams. 1 will quote:

“Every right-thinking man sees that men (?) with such ideas as you and your out-at-elbows crew are simply cranks of the worst kind, hankering after what they are not clever enough to obtain by their own wit and industry—like Burns, who, too lazy to work as an engineer, who will stick to his snug office and his £2,OUU a year.”

This is rather opaque. We are told that we are like Burns, and that Burns will stick to his snug office and the £2,000 a year which he hankers after, but has not the wit nor the industry to obtain. Here is the first quite common assumption of the anti-Socialist: the assumption that Socialists are incapable persons, who turn to Socialism because they have failed in all other walks of TTlc. " . I-don’t think John Burns is a happy example. Because a man who goes from the bench to the Cabinet miist have a/b least average ability and industry. Now, the facts are against tins assumption. Allow me to offer a few names of Socialists who are neither incapable® nor failures. There are Ibsen.. George Bernard Shaw, Zola, William Morris, Alfred Russel Wallace, Jaures, Liebnecht, Carl Marx, and William Dean Howells. These arc all famous men. But any person who knows H. M. Hyndman, J. Keir Hardie.. Philip Snowden G. N, Barnes, and other Labor members will be obliged to admit that they are men of character and ability quite above the average.

But there is another assumption: that the Socialists are an out-at-elbow crew, as the writer of the postcard courteously put it. Now, if Socialists are poor, it ns evident that Socialism does not pay. Therefore it follows that Socialists are not “men on the make,” since there is nothing to be made. But though many Socialists are poor, and many more would be richer if they were not Socialists, it is a mistake to suppose tnat Socialists aie a mere mob of tramps and failures. There are some very rich Socialists (I suppose Lady Warwick is not poor), and there are many prosperous and well-to-do Socialists, while the work-ing-class /Socialists are very much above the working-class average m manners, intelligence, appearance, and character. If anyone wants to know what Socialists are rHuilly like, let him attend a Clarion Meet. The gentleman who writes the postcard. bids me go and do an honest day’s work. Well, I began to work when I was ten years old, and 1 got up at half-past five, winter and summer, for twenty-four years. And the w a "’os 1 -got varied from Is Ckl u week to 1)0*. When I was thirty-four 1 went on the Press, 'and in two yeai s I was getting £I,OOO a year. That was before I was a Socialist. I have tramped hundreds of miles looking lotwork, and have worked hard for sixty and seventy hours a week for- tne magnificent wage of one guinea. I wonder liow mnny Liberal and Tory members of Parliament could say as much? For the rest, if any anti-Socialist wants to know anything about me or /about my work, let him go to the men who havo worked with me. to those who know me and have lived with me. My life for the whole fifty-four years is an open book. Let him read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest the story : it will do him no harm.

As for the anonymous postcard, I think it must have been sent to the wrong address. It should have gone to—“but it would bo easy to find a hundred eminent Liberals and Tones to whom am honest day’s work would be a nice change.And now here is .a letter which the “Daily Express” thought worth printing:

To the Editor of the “Express.”

Sir, —Mr 81/utchford should, in the interests of common sense, be encouraged to favor the public with a few more of his “explanations” as to the aims and ends of Socialism. If he did so, lit would save his opponents the trouble of replying to this (letters, which condemn himself and bis views.

He states that “all private ownership 'and profit involving injury to the people are immoral.” Now we will leave “profit” out of tho argument for tho .moment and take “private ownership” alone, although the two aro nearly akin, I daresay Mr Blatchford wears a good, well-cut greatcoat this cold weather. Let him stand anywhere on a cold day in. Fleet Street and count the hundreds who pass who have no greatcoats, and, not alone that, but even some who have barely enough to cover their poor chastened bodies. Now, if it is immoral to bold property (of any kind, I contend) involving Injury to the people (individually or collectively, I contend also), it is very “immoral” for Mr Blatchford to retain, having good underclothing besides to cover his own body, his overcoat when there are others who want it more than he does. Socialism -is arid by its exponents to ho based on the virtue of benevolence.

The grand principle of. Socialism is to nationalise land, railways, and so on for the benefit of. the poorer classes. Very good, but where is all the money to come from ? Where but from the very men and women who hold tall this liand and money It won’t do, Mr Blatchford; the net is set in sight of the bird. . MONOS.

South Kensington. . If any reader of tho “Clarion” is so far to seek in economic knowledge as to suppose that the writer of that letter is not talking nonsense, I would advise that render, ( as I -advise “Monos,” to ash himself two questions, thus;- -

How is it thore aro so many men in wealthy and Christian England without coats or underclothing? How does the money which conies out of the pockets of the rich get into the pockets of the <rioh ? In finding the answer to these two questions the inquirer will leUrn a great deal which will be very useful to him. Some four or five years ago, when I published “Britain- for the British,” the “Manchester Guardian” said I had wasted too much time in answering objections which ail intelligent and educated men had abandoned. And here is “Merlin” in the “Referee” gravely protesting against Socialism because it is unjust, and because it would make 'life monotonous and mechanical. •

Now, Socialism is not unjust, and could not be unjust, or I should never have written a -word in its favor. And Socialism would not reduce Mankind to an army of drilled battalions, iu which initiative and character would liavo no chance. But the present system is unjust, and its injustice shouts in our ears, and stares us out of countenance at every turn. And the present system reduces millions of men and women to regiments of drilled servants doing monotonous tasks in a monotonous manner.

Has not “Merlin” noticed this? Has he never rend William Morris, nor John Ruslan ? Has ho never seen London, nor Manchester? “Merlin” is ono of those men who imagine that England is a free country, and that? a man can. do as ho pleases. “Merlin” is a journalist; so am I. And I ask him, liow many journalists in England can he find who aro free —free to write what they believe —free from the control of editors, from the bias of proprietors, from the tyranny of advertisers? Is there a single paper in England or in Scotland, except tho “Clarion,” where every man has a free hand? 1 suggest that the only free organ is a Socialist organ. What does “Merlin” think? Does “Merlin” think men are free to dress, to speak, to live as the; please in England? HUis he ever seen the regiment of city clerks in uniform marching out from the railway stations to business ? Has he seen tho streets they live in, the schools they are crammed in, the offices where each man is a cog in a machine ? Has “Merlin” ever seen the vast districts of houses which Buskin called “brick boxes with slate roofs,” tho houses all ugly, and all inconvenient, and mil alike; street after street of them, one street so like another that .a man would go wrong if he did not see the name on the corner? Has he ever considered the working lives of the millions of spinners, weavers, colliers, shopmen, tailors, chainmakers —wlimt not ? Does lie not know that these people perform the same tasks, at tho same hours, for years —for a lifetime? Does ho not know that the discipline in shops and offices is more severe tin m in the Army ? Does he find that painters, and poets, and playwrights, 'and musicians arc free to give their genius its bent? Or does lie know that most of these men work to the market : “must nleeise to live” ?

There is not an argument in all “Merlin’s” long -article that would not make a Socialist smile. But we have to bear in mind that there are millions in tho country who will look upon his objections as valid. Once more, then, we have t<> show Englishmen and Scotsmen that which they have never seen—their own country as it really is. Well, it shall be done. But can wo get the people to look upon the portrait when it is painted? I have had many unkind things said to me by Christians and Party politicians; but I thing “Dagonet’s” is the unkindest cut of nil. For “Dagonet” gays in the “Referee” : A thousand congratulations, my dear Blatchford. You are the man

of tho hour. “The man of the hour.” Good “Dagonet.” I would not use a dog so. I liavo nothing with that hour, friend. Take it. you, and bestow it upon one or other of the ravenous souls who dry their heart’s blood chasing bubbles in the Strand, or Pall Mall, or Lombard Street. I do not belong to the hour; but am as happy hero in my privacy as you arc in your house over against the ducks. There is a blackbird comes upon a high poplar near, and whistles to me. And I have books and music; and my work. But—;“tho man of the hour” ! Is not that the poor wretch they p; i and prattle over, and envy and lie about, in Vanity Fair —and" then forget?

Tliero are two heroes of yours, good “Dagonet”—eminent men —great mien? —who are, in a quiet friendly spirit—er—discussing the leadership of the Opposition. “Dagonet,” I should smile. Can you imagine Socrates loading the Opposition? He did not think too highly of tho Athenian equivalent for St Stephen’s. I think he said something about honest men being of no use there!' Tie did not want to lead the Opposition. He stayed outside, and led a useful life. But your great men, “Dagonet” : to me they appear rather' small of size. To me their ambitions appear but cheap. I think, “Dagonet,”— for I have been long out of the world, and look at tliese tilings without a Party bias—l thing, my friend, that if wo collected every member of the two Cabinets, and sent them out to Nev r Zealand to play football, this country would not bo a whit the poorer. And I think a 1 very great many poets, and- novelists, and jockeys, and professional beivuties, and bishops, and journalists, and’brewers, and millionaires, and other superior persons might “range with them along,”, without being missed. Alas! I ram a quito impossible person, and of no uso at all as a man of the hour. But I should like to spend that hour in a friendly talk with “Dagonet” over w, cigar. Sir, I h-aye read your writings tor years. I fairly revelled in your Mustard and Cress (how you did walk into the Tories, and tho Jingoes, and Lord Beaconsfield) in tho dnys when I was sorgeant of the scouts of the Manchester Regiment, and was waiting for orders to go and fight the Russians,

Let me see, Mr “Dagonet,” what was it the Governor of North Carolina said to the Governor of South Carolina ?