Robert Tressell

The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists


Chapter 45
The Great Oration
(Part 2)

As Barrington descended from the Pulpit and walked back to his accustomed seat, a loud shout of applause burst from a few men in the crowd, who stood up and waved their caps and cheered again and again. When order was restored, Philpot rose and addressed the meeting:

‘Is there any gentleman wot would like to ask the Speaker a question?’

No one spoke and the Chairman again put the question without obtaining any response, but at length one of the new hands who had been ‘taken on’ about a week previously to replace another painter who had been sacked for being too slow – stood up and said there was one point that he would like a little more information about. This man had two patches on the seat of his trousers, which were also very much frayed and ragged at the bottoms of the legs: the lining of his coat was all in rags, as were also the bottoms of the sleeves; his boots were old and had been many times mended and patched; the sole of one of them had begun to separate from the upper and he had sewn these parts together with a few stitches of copper wire. He had been out of employment for several weeks and it was evident from the pinched expression of his still haggard face that during that time he had not had sufficient to eat. This man was not a drunkard, neither was he one of those semi-mythical persons who are too lazy to work. He was married and had several children. One of them, a boy of fourteen years old, earned five shillings a week as a light porter at a Grocer’s.

Being a householder the man had a vote, but he had never hitherto taken much interest in what he called ‘politics’. In his opinion, those matters were not for the likes of him. He believed in leaving such difficult subjects to be dealt with by his betters. In his present unhappy condition he was a walking testimonial to the wisdom and virtue and benevolence of those same ‘betters’ who have hitherto managed the affairs of the world with results so very satisfactory for themselves.

‘I should like to ask the speaker,’ he said, ‘supposin’ all this that ’e talks about is done – what’s to become of the King, and the Royal Family, and all the Big Pots?’

‘’Ear, ’ear,’ cried Crass, eagerly – and Ned Dawson and the man behind the moat both said that that was what they would like to know, too.

‘I am much more concerned about what is to become of ourselves if these things are not done,’ replied Barrington. ‘I think we should try to cultivate a little more respect of our own families and to concern ourselves a little less about “Royal” Families. I fail to see any reason why we should worry ourselves about those people; they’re all right – they have all they need, and as far as I am aware, nobody wishes to harm them and they are well able to look after themselves. They will fare the same as the other rich people.’

‘I should like to ask,’ said Harlow, ‘wot’s to become of all the gold and silver and copper money? Wouldn’t it be of no use at all?’

‘It would be of far more use under Socialism than it is at present. The State would of course become possessed of a large quantity of it in the early stages of the development of the Socialist system, because – at first – while the State would be paying all its officers and productive workers in paper, the rest of the community – those not in State employ – would be paying their taxes in gold as at present. All travellers on the State railways – other than State employees – would pay their fares in metal money, and gold and silver would pour into the State Treasury from many other sources. The State would receive gold and silver and – for the most part – pay out paper. By the time the system of State employment was fully established, gold and silver would only be of value as metal and the State would purchase it from whoever possessed and wished to sell it – at so much per pound as raw material: instead of hiding it away in the vaults of banks, or locking it up in iron safes, we shall make use of it. Some of the gold will be manufactured into articles of jewellery, to be sold for paper money and worn by the sweethearts and wives and daughters of the workers; some of it will be beaten out into gold leaf to be used in the decoration of the houses of the citizens and of public buildings. As for the silver, it will be made into various articles of utility for domestic use. The workers will not then, as now, have to eat their food with poisonous lead or brass spoons and forks, we shall have these things of silver and if there is not enough silver we shall probably have a non-poisonous alloy of that metal.’

‘As far as I can make out,’ said Harlow, ‘the paper money will be just as valuable as gold and silver is now. Well, wot’s to prevent artful dodgers like old Misery and Rushton saving it up and buying and selling things with it, and so livin’ without work?’

‘Of course,’ said Crass, scornfully. ‘It would never do!’

‘That’s a very simple matter; any man who lives without doing any useful work is living on the labour of others, he is robbing others of part of the result of their labour. The object of Socialism is to stop this robbery, to make it impossible. So no one will be able to hoard up or accumulate the paper money because it will be dated, and will become worthless if it is not spent within a certain time after its issue. As for buying and selling for profit – from whom would they buy? And to whom would they sell?’

‘Well, they might buy some of the things the workers didn’t want, for less than the workers paid for them, and then they could sell ’em again.’

‘They’d have to sell them for less than the price charged at the National Stores, and if you think about it a little you’ll see that it would not be very profitable. It would be with the object of preventing any attempts at private trading that the Administration would refuse to pay compensation to private owners in a lump sum. All such compensations would be paid, as I said, in the form of a pension of so much per year.

‘Another very effective way to prevent private trading would be to make it a criminal offence against the well-being of the community. At present many forms of business are illegal unless you take out a licence; under Socialism no one would be allowed to trade without a licence, and no licences would be issued.’

‘Wouldn’t a man be allowed to save up his money if he wanted to, demanded Slyme with indignation.

‘There will be nothing to prevent a man going without some of the things he might have if he is foolish enough to do so, but he would never be able to save up enough to avoid doing his share of useful service. Besides, what need would there be for anyone to save? One’s old age would be provided for. No one could ever be out of employment. If one was ill the State hospitals and Medical Service would be free. As for one’s children, they would attend the State Free Schools and Colleges and when of age they would enter the State Service, their futures provided for. Can you tell us why anyone would need or wish to save?’

Slyme couldn’t.

‘Are there any more questions?’ demanded Philpot.

‘While we are speaking of money,’ added Barrington, ‘I should like to remind you that even under the present system there are many things which cost money to maintain, that we enjoy without having to pay for directly. The public roads and pavements cost money to make and maintain and light. So do the parks, museums and bridges. But they are free to all. Under a Socialist Administration this principle will be extended – in addition to the free services we enjoy now we shall then maintain the trains and railways for the use of the public, free. And as time goes on, this method of doing business will be adopted in many other directions.’

‘I’ve read somewhere,’ said Harlow, ‘that whenever a Government in any country has started issuing paper money it has always led to bankruptcy. How do you know that the same thing would not happen under a Socialist Administration?’

‘’Ear, ’ear,’ said Crass. ‘I was just goin’ to say the same thing.’

‘If the Government of a country began to issue large amounts of paper money under the present system,’ Barrington replied, ‘it would inevitably lead to bankruptcy, for the simple reason that paper money under the present system – bank-notes, bank drafts, postal orders, cheques or any other form – is merely a printed promise to pay the amount – in gold or silver – on demand or at a certain date. Under the present system if a Government issues more paper money than it possesses gold and silver to redeem, it is of course bankrupt. But the paper money that will be issued under a Socialist Administration will not be a promise to pay in gold or silver on demand or at any time. It will be a promise to supply commodities to the amount specified on the note, and as there could be no dearth of those things there could be no possibility of bankruptcy.’

‘I should like to know who’s goin’ to appoint the hofficers of this ’ere hindustrial harmy,’ said the man on the pail. ‘We don’t want to be bullied and chivied and chased about by a lot of sergeants and corporals like a lot of soldiers, you know.’

‘’Ear. ’ear,’ said Crass. ‘You must ’ave some masters. Someone’s got to be in charge of the work.’

‘We don’t have to put up with any bullying or chivying or chasing now, do we?’ said Barrington. ‘So of course we could not have anything of that sort under Socialism. We could not put up with it at all! Even if it were only for four or five hours a day. Under the present system we have no voice in appointing our masters and overseers and foremen – we have no choice as to what master we shall work under. If our masters do not treat us fairly we have no remedy against them. Under Socialism it will be different; the workers will be part of the community; the officers or managers and foremen will be the servants of the community, and if any one of these men were to abuse his position he could be promptly removed. As for the details of the organization of the Industrial Army, the difficulty is, again, not so much to devise a way, but to decide which of many ways would be the best, and the perfect way will probably be developed only after experiment and experience. The one thing we have to hold fast to is the fundamental principle of State employment or National service. Production for use and not for profit. The national organization of industry under democratic control. One way of arranging this business would be for the community to elect a Parliament in much the same way as is done at present. The only persons eligible for election to be veterans of the industrial Army, men and women who had put in their twenty-five years of service.

‘This Administrative Body would have control of the different State Departments. There would be a Department of Agriculture, a Department of Railways and so on, each with its minister and staff.

‘All these Members of Parliament would be the relatives – in some cases the mothers and fathers of those in the Industrial Service, and they would be relied upon to see that the conditions of that service were the best possible.

‘As for the different branches of the State Service, they could be organized on somewhat the same lines as the different branches of the Public Service are now – like the Navy, the Post Office and as the State Railways in some other countries, or as are the different branches of the Military Army, with the difference that all promotions will be from the ranks, by examinations, and by merit only. As every recruit will have had the same class of education they will all have absolute equality of opportunity and the men who would attain to positions of authority would be the best men, and not as at present, the worst.’

‘How do you make that out?’ demanded Crass.

‘Under the present system, the men who become masters and employers succeed because they are cunning and selfish, not because they understand or are capable of doing the work out of which they make their money. Most of the employers in the building trade for instance would be incapable of doing any skilled work. Very few of them would be worth their salt as journeymen. The only work they do is to scheme to reap the benefit of the labour of others.

‘The men who now become managers and foremen are selected not because of their ability as craftsmen, but because they are good slave-drivers and useful producers of profit for their employers.’

‘How are you goin’ to prevent the selfish and cunnin’, as you call ’em, from gettin’ on top then as they do now?’ said Harlow.

‘The fact that all workers will receive the same pay, no matter what class of work they are engaged in, or what their position, will ensure our getting the very best man to do all the higher work and to organize our business.’

Crass laughed: ‘What! Everybody to get the same wages?’

‘Yes: there will be such an enormous quantity of everything produced, that their wages will enable everyone to purchase abundance of everything they require. Even if some were paid more than others they would not be able to spend it. There would be no need to save it, and as there will be no starving poor, there will be no one to give it away to. If it were possible to save and accumulate money it would bring into being an idle class, living on their fellows: it would lead to the downfall of our system, and a return to the same anarchy that exists at present. Besides, if higher wages were paid to those engaged in the higher work or occupying positions of authority it would prevent our getting the best men. Unfit persons would try for the positions because of the higher pay. That is what happens now. Under the present system men intrigue for and obtain or are pitchforked into positions for which they have no natural ability at all; the only reason they desire these positions is because of the salaries attached to them. These fellows get the money and the work is done by underpaid subordinates whom the world never hears of. Under Socialism, this money incentive will be done away with, and consequently the only men who will try for these positions will be those who, being naturally fitted for the work, would like to do it. For instance a man who is a born organizer will not refuse to undertake such work because he will not be paid more for it. Such a man will desire to do it and will esteem it a privilege to be allowed to do it. He will revel in it. To think out all the details of some undertaking, to plan and scheme and organize, is not work for a man like that. It is a pleasure. But for a man who has sought and secured such a position, not because he liked the work, but because he liked the salary – such work as this would be unpleasant labour. Under Socialism the unfit man would not apply for that post but would strive after some other for which he was fit and which he would therefore desire and enjoy. There are some men who would rather have charge of and organize and be responsible for work than do it with their hands. There are others who would rather do delicate or difficult or artistic work, than plain work. A man who is a born artist would rather paint a frieze or a picture or carve a statue than he would do plain work, or take charge of and direct the labour of others. And there are another sort of men who would rather do ordinary plain work than take charge, or attempt higher branches for which they have neither liking or natural talent.

‘But there is one thing – a most important point that you seem to entirely lose sight of, and that is, that all these different kinds and classes are equal in one respect – they arre all equally necessary. Each is a necessary and indispensable part of the whole; therefore everyone who has done his full share of necessary work is justly entitled to a full share of the results. The men who put the slates on are just as indispensable as the men who lay the foundations. The work of the men who build the walls and make the doors is just as necessary as the work of the men who decorate the cornice. None of them would be of much use without the architect, and the plans of the architect would come to nothing, his building would be a mere castle in the air, if it were not for the other workers. Each part of the work is equally necessary, useful and indispensable if the building is to he perfected. Some of these men work harder with their brains than with their hands and some work harder with their hands than with their brains, but each one does his full share of the work. This truth will be recognized and acted upon by those who build up and maintain the fabric of our Co-operative Commonwealth. Every man who does his full share of the useful and necessary work according to his abilities shall have his full share of the total result. Herein will be its great difference from the present system, under which it is possible for the cunning and selfish ones to take advantage of the simplicity of others and rob them of part of the fruits of their labour. As for those who will be engaged in the higher branches, they will be sufficiently rewarded by being privileged to do the work they are fitted for and enjoy. The only men and women who are capable of good and great work of any kind are those who, being naturally fit for it, love the work for its own sake and not for the money it brings them. Under the present system, many men who have no need of money produce great works, not for gain but for pleasure: their wealth enables them to follow their natural inclinations. Under the present system many men and women capable of great works are prevented from giving expression to their powers by poverty and lack of opportunity: they live in sorrow and die heartbroken, and the community is the loser. These are the men and women who will be our artists, sculptors, architects, engineers and captains of industry.

‘Under the present system there are men at the head of affairs whose only object is the accumulation of money. Some of them possess great abilities and the system has practically compelled them to employ those abilities for their own selfish ends to the hurt of the community. Some of them have built up great fortunes out of the sweat and blood and tears of men and women and little children. For those who delight in such work as this, there will be no place in our Co-operative Commonwealth.’

‘Is there any more questions?’ demanded Philpot.

‘Yes,’ said Harlow. ‘If there won’t be no extry pay and if anybody will have all they need for just doing their part of the work, what encouragement will there be for anyone to worry his brains out trying to invent some new machine, or make some new discovery?’

‘Well,’ said Barrington, ‘I think that’s covered by the last answer, but if it were found necessary – which is highly improbable – to offer some material reward in addition to the respect, esteem or honour that would be enjoyed by the author of an invention that was a boon to the community, it could be arranged by allowing him to retire before the expiration of his twenty-five years service. The boon he had conferred on the community by the invention, would be considered equivalent to so many years work. But a man like that would not desire to cease working; that sort go on working all their lives, for love. There’s Edison for instance. He is one of the very few inventors who have made money out of their work; he is a rich man, but the only use his wealth seems to be to him is to procure himself facilities for going on with his work; his life is a round of what some people would call painful labour: but it is not painful labour to him; it’s just pleasure, he works for the love of it. Another way would be to absolve a man of that sort from the necessity of ordinary work, so as to give him a chance to get on with other inventions. It would be to the interests of the community to encourage him in every way and to place materials and facilities at his disposal.

‘But you must remember that even under the present system, Honour and Praise are held to be greater than money. How many soldiers would prefer money to the honour of wearing the intrinsically valueless Victoria Cross?

‘Even now men think less of money than they do of the respect, esteem or honour they are able to procure with it. Many men spend the greater part of their lives striving to accumulate money, and when they have succeeded, they proceed to spend it to obtain the respect of their fellow-men. Some of them spend thousands of pounds for the honour of being able to write “M.P.” after their names. Others buy titles. Others pay huge sums to gain admission to exclusive circles of society. Others give the money away in charity, or found libraries or universities. The reason they do these things is that they desire to be applauded and honoured by their fellow-men.

‘This desire is strongest in the most capable men – the men of genius. Therefore, under Socialism the principal incentive to great work will be the same as now – Honour and Praise. But, under the present system, Honour and Praise can be bought with money, and it does not matter much how the money was obtained.

‘Under Socialism it will be different. The Cross of Honour and the Laurel Crown will not be bought and sold for filthy lucre. They will be the supreme rewards of Virtue and of Talent.’

‘Anyone else like to be flattened Out?’ inquired Philpot.

‘What would you do with them what spends all their money in drink?’ asked Slyme.

‘I might reasonably ask you, “What’s done with them or what you propose to do with them now?” There are many men and women whose lives are so full of toil and sorrow and the misery caused by abject poverty, who are so shut out from all that makes life worth living, that the time they spend in the public house is the only ray of sunshine in their cheerless lives. Their mental and material poverty is so great that they are deprived of and incapable of understanding the intellectual and social pleasures of civilization... Under Socialism there will be no such class as this. Everyone will be educated, and social life and rational pleasure will be within the reach of all. Therefore we do not believe that there will be such a class. Any individuals who abandoned themselves to such a course would be avoided by their fellows; but if they became very degraded, we should still remember that they were our brother men and women, and we should regard them as suffering from a disease inherited from their uncivilized forefathers and try to cure them by placing them under some restraint: in an institute for instance.’

‘Another good way to deal with ’em,’ said Harlow, ‘would be to allow them double pay, so as they could drink themselves to death. We could do without the likes of them.’

‘Call the next case,’ said Philpot.

‘This ’ere abundance that you’re always talking about,’ said Crass, you can’t be sure that it would be possible to produce all that. You’re only assoomin’ that it could be done.’

Barrington pointed to the still visible outlines of the ‘Hoblong’ that Owen had drawn on the wall to illustrate a previous lecture.

‘Even under the present silly system of restricted production, with the majority of the population engaged in useless, unproductive, unnecessary work, and large numbers never doing any work at all, there is enough produced to go all round after a fashion. More than enough, for in consequence of what they call “Over-Production”, the markets are periodically glutted with commodities of all kinds, and then for a time the factories are closed and production ceases. And yet we can all manage to exist – after a fashion. This proves that if productive industry were organized on the lines advocated by Socialists there could be produced such a prodigious quantity of everything, that everyone could live in plenty and comfort. The problem of how to produce sufficient for all to enjoy abundance is already solved: the problem that then remains is – How to get rid of those whose greed and callous indifference to the sufferings of others, prevents it being done.’

‘Yes! and you’ll never be able to get rid of ’em, mate,’ cried Crass, triumphantly – and the man with the copper wire stitches in his boot said that it couldn’t be done.

‘Well, we mean to have a good try, anyhow,’ said Barrington.

Crass and most of the others tried hard to think of something to say in defence of the existing state of affairs, or against the proposals put forward by the lecturer; but finding nothing, they maintained a sullen and gloomy silence. The man with the copper wire stitches in his boot in particular appeared to be very much upset; perhaps he was afraid that if the things advocated by the speaker ever came to pass he would not have any boots at all. To assume that he had some such thought as this, is the only rational way to account for his hostility, for in his case no change could have been for the worse unless it reduced him to almost absolute nakedness and starvation.

To judge by their unwillingness to consider any proposals to alter the present system, one might have supposed that they were afraid of losing something, instead of having nothing to lose – except their poverty.

It was not till the chairman had made several urgent appeals for more questions that Crass brightened up: a glad smile slowly spread over and illuminated his greasy visage: he had at last thought of a most serious and insurmountable obstacle to the establishment of the Co-operative Commonwealth.

‘What,’ he demanded, in a loud voice, ‘what are you goin’ to do, in this ’ere Socialist Republic of yours, with them wot won’t work’!”

As Crass flung this bombshell into the Socialist camp, the miserable, ragged-trousered crew around him could scarce forbear a cheer; but the more intelligent part of the audience only laughed.

‘We don’t believe that there will be any such people as that,’ said Barrington.

‘There’s plenty of ’em about now, anyway,’ sneered Crass.

‘You can’t change ’uman nature, you know,’ cried the man behind the moat, and the one who had the copper wire stitches in his boot laughed scornfully.

‘Yes, I know there are plenty such now,’ rejoined Barrington. ‘It’s only what is to be expected, considering that practically all workers live in poverty, and are regarded with contempt. The conditions under which most of the work is done at present are so unpleasant and degrading that everyone refuses to do any unless they are compelled; none of us here, for instance, would continue to work for Rushton if it were not for the fact that we have either to do so or starve; and when we do work we only just earn enough to keep body and soul together. Under the present system everybody who can possibly manage to do so avoids doing any work, the only difference being that some people do their loafing better than others. The aristocracy are too lazy to work, but they seem to get on all right; they have their tenants to work for them. Rushton is too lazy to work, so he has arranged that we and Nimrod shall work instead, and he fares much better than any of us who do work. Then there is another kind of loafers who go about begging and occasionally starving rather than submit to such abominable conditions as are offered to them. These last are generally not much worse off than we are and they are often better off. At present, people have everything to gain and but little to lose by refusing to work. Under Socialism it would be just the reverse; the conditions of labour would be so pleasant, the hours of obligatory work so few, and the reward so great, that it is absurd to imagine that any one would be so foolish as to incur the contempt of his fellows and make himself a social outcast by refusing to do the small share of work demanded of him by the community of which he was a member.

‘As for what we should do to such individuals if there did happen to be some, I can assure you that we would not treat them as you treat them now. We would not dress them up in silk and satin and broadcloth and fine linen: we would not embellish them, as you do, with jewels of gold and jewels of silver and with precious stones; neither should we allow them to fare sumptuously every day. Our method of dealing with them would be quite different from yours. In the Co-operative Commonwealth there will be no place for loafers; whether they call themselves aristocrats or tramps, those who are too lazy to work shall have no share in the things that are produced by the labour of others. Those who do nothing shall have nothing. If any man will not work, neither shall he eat. Under the present system a man who is really too lazy to work may stop you in the street and tell you that he cannot get employment. For all you know, he may be telling the truth, and if you have any feeling and are able, you will help him. But in the Socialist State no one would have such an excuse, because everyone that was willing would be welcome to come and help in the work of producing wealth and happiness for all, and afterwards he would also be welcome to his full share of the results.’

‘Any more complaints?’ inquired the chairman, breaking the gloomy silence that followed.

‘I don’t want anyone to think that I am blaming any of these present-day loafers,’ Barrington added. ‘The wealthy ones cannot be expected voluntarily to come and work under existing conditions and if they were to do so they would be doing more harm than good – they would be doing some poor wretches out of employment. They are not to be blamed; the people who are to blame are the working classes themselves, who demand and vote for the continuance of the present system. As for the other class of loafers – those at the bottom, the tramps and people of that sort, if they were to become sober and industrious tomorrow, they also would be doing more harm than good to the other workers; it would increase the competition for work. If all the loafers in Mugsborough could suddenly be transformed into decent house painters next week, Nimrod might be able to cut down the wages another penny an hour. I don’t wish to speak disrespectfully of these tramps at all. Some of them are such simply because they would rather starve than submit to the degrading conditions that we submit to, they do not see the force of being bullied and chased, and driven about in order to gain semi-starvation and rags. They are able to get those without working; and I sometimes think that they are more worthy of respect and are altogether a nobler type of beings than a lot of broken-spirited wretches like ourselves, who are always at the mercy of our masters, and always in dread of the sack.’

‘Any more questions?’ said the chairman.

‘Do you mean to say as the time will ever come when the gentry will mix up on equal terms with the likes of us?’ demanded the man behind the moat, scornfully.

‘Oh, no,’ replied the lecturer. When we get Socialism there won’t be any people like us. Everybody will be civilized.’

The man behind the moat did not seem very satisfied with this answer, and told the others that he could not see anything to laugh at.

‘Is there any more questions?’ cried Philpot. ‘Now is your chance to get some of your own back, but don’t hall speak at once.’

‘I should like to know who’s goin’ to do all the dirty work?’ said Slyme. ‘If everyone is to be allowed to choose ’is own trade, who’d be fool enough to choose to be a scavenger, a sweep, a dustman or a sewer man? nobody wouldn’t want to do such jobs as them and everyone would be after the soft jobs.’

‘Of course,’ cried Crass, eagerly clutching at this last straw. ‘The thing sounds all right till you comes to look into it, but it wouldn’t never work!’

‘It would be very easy to deal with any difficulty of that sort,’ replied Barrington, ‘if it were found that too many people were desirous of pursuing certain callings, it would be known that the conditions attached to those kinds of work were unfairly easy, as compared with other lines, so the conditions in those trades would be made more severe. A higher degree of skill would be required. If we found that too many persons wished to be doctors, architects, engineers and so forth, we would increase the severity of the examinations. This would scare away all but the most gifted and enthusiastic. We should thus at one stroke reduce the number of applicants and secure the very best men for the work – we should have better doctors, better architects, better engineers than before.

‘As regards those disagreeable tasks for which there was a difficulty in obtaining volunteers, we should adopt the opposite means. Suppose that six hours was the general thing; and we found that we could not get any sewer men; we should reduce the hours of labour in that department to four, or if necessary to two, in order to compensate for the disagreeable nature of the work.

‘Another way out of such difficulties would be to have a separate division of the Industrial army to do all such work, and to make it obligatory for every man to put in his first year of State service as a member of this corps. There would be no hardship in that. Everyone gets the benefit of such work; there would be no injustice in requiring everyone to share. This would have the effect also of stimulating invention; it would be to everyone’s interest to think out means of doing away with such kinds of work and there is no doubt that most of it will be done by machinery in some way or other. A few years ago the only way to light up the streets of a town was to go round to each separate gas lamp and light each jet, one at a time: now, we press a few buttons and light up the town with electricity. In the future we shall probably be able to press a button and flush the sewers.’

‘What about religion?’ said Slyme. ‘I suppose there won’t be no churches nor chapels; we shall all have to be atheists.’

‘Everybody will be perfectly free to enjoy their own opinions and to practise any religion they like; but no religion or sect will be maintained by the State. If any congregation or body of people wish to have a building for their own exclusive use as a church or chapel or lecture hall it will be supplied to them by the State on the same terms as those upon which dwelling houses will be supplied; the State will construct the special kind of building and the congregation will have to pay the rent, the amount to be based on the cost of construction, in paper money of course. As far as the embellishment or decoration of such places is concerned, there will of course be nothing to prevent the members of the congregation if they wish from doing any such work as that themselves in their own spare time of which they will have plenty.’

‘If everybody’s got to do their share of work, where’s the minister and clergymen to come from?’

‘There are at least three ways out of that difficulty. First, ministers of religion could be drawn from the ranks of the Veterans – men over forty-five years old who had completed their term of State service. You must remember that these will not be worn out wrecks, as too many of the working classes are at that age now. They will have had good food and clothing and good general conditions all their lives; and consequently they will be in the very prime of life. They will be younger than many of us now are at thirty; they will be ideal men for the positions we are speaking of. All well educated in their youth, and all will have had plenty of leisure for self culture during the years of their State service and they will have the additional recommendation that their congregation will not be required to pay anything for their services.

‘Another way: If a congregation wished to retain the full-time services of a young man whom they thought specially gifted but who had not completed his term of State service, they could secure him by paying the State for his services; thus the young man would still remain in State employment, he would still continue to receive his pay from the National Treasury, and at the age of forty-five would be entitled to his pension like any other worker, and after that the congregation would not have to pay the State anything.

‘A third – and as it seems to me, the most respectable way – would be for the individual in question to act as minister or pastor or lecturer or whatever it was, to the congregation without seeking to get out of doing his share of the State service. The hours of obligatory work would be so short and the work so light that he would have abundance of leisure to prepare his orations without sponging on his co-religionists.’

‘’Ear, ’ear!’ cried Harlow.

‘Of course,’ added Barrington, ‘it would not only be congregations of Christians who could adopt any of these methods. It is possible that a congregation of agnostics, for instance, might want a separate building or to maintain a lecturer.’

‘What the ’ell’s an agnostic?’ demanded Bundy.

‘An agnostic,’ said the man behind the moat, ‘is a bloke wot don’t believe nothing unless ’e see it with ’is own eyes.’

‘All these details,’ continued the speaker, ‘of the organization of affairs and the work of the Co-operative Commonwealth, are things which do not concern us at all. They have merely been suggested by different individuals as showing some ways in which these things could be arranged. The exact methods to be adopted will be decided upon by the opinion of the majority when the work is being done. Meantime, what we have to do is to insist upon the duty of the State to provide productive work for the unemployed, the State feeding of schoolchildren, the nationalization or Socialization of Railways; Land; the Trusts, and all public services that are still in the hands of private companies. If you wish to see these things done, you must cease from voting for Liberal and Tory sweaters, shareholders of companies, lawyers, aristocrats, and capitalists; and you must fill the House of Commons with Revolutionary Socialists. That is – with men who are in favour of completely changing the present system. And in the day that you do that, you will have solved the poverty “problem”. No more tramping the streets begging for a job! No more hungry children at home. No more broken boots and ragged clothes. No more women and children killing themselves with painful labour whilst strong men stand idly by; but joyous work and joyous leisure for all.’

‘Is there any more questions?’ cried Philpot.

‘Is it true,’ said Easton, ‘that Socialists intend to do away with the Army and Navy?’

‘Yes; it is true. Socialists believe in International Brotherhood and peace. Nearly all wars are caused by profit-seeking capitalists, seeking new fields for commercial exploitation, and by aristocrats who make it the means of glorifying themselves in the eyes of the deluded common people. You must remember that Socialism is not only a national, but an international movement and when it is realized, there will be no possibility of war, and we shall no longer seed to maintain an army and navy, or to waste a lot of labour building warships or manufacturing arms and ammunition. All those people who are now employed will then be at liberty to assist in the great work of producing the benefits of civilization; creating wealth and knowledge and happiness for themselves and others – Socialism means Peace on earth and goodwill to all mankind. But in the meantime we know that the people of other nations are not yet all Socialists; we do not forget that in foreign countries – just the same as in Britain – there are large numbers of profit seeking capitalists, who are so destitute of humanity, that if they thought it could be done successfully and with profit to themselves they would not scruple to come here to murder and to rob. We do not forget that in foreign countries – the same as here – there are plenty of so-called “Christian” bishops and priests always ready to give their benediction to any such murderous projects, and to blasphemously pray to the Supreme Being to help his children to slay each other like wild beasts. And knowing and remembering all this, we realize that until we have done away with capitalism, aristocracy and anti-Christian clericalism, it is our duty to be prepared to defend our homes and our native land. And therefore we are in favour of maintaining national defensive forces in the highest possible state of efficiency. But that does not mean that we are in favour of the present system of organizing those forces. We do not believe in conscription, and we do not believe that the nation should continue to maintain a professional standing army to be used at home for the purpose of butchering men and women of the working classes in the interests of a handful of capitalists, as has been done at Featherstone and Belfast; or to be used abroad to murder and rob the people of other nations. Socialists advocate the establishment of a National Citizen Army, for defensive purposes only. We believe that every able bodied man should be compelled to belong to this force and to undergo a course of military training, but without making him into a professional soldier, or taking him away from civil life, depriving him of the rights of citizenship or making him subject to military “law” which is only another name for tyranny and despotism. This Citizen Army could be organized on somewhat similar lines to the present Territorial Force, with certain differences. For instance, we do not believe – as our present rulers do – that wealth and aristocratic influence are the two most essential qualifications for an efficient officer; we believe that all ranks should be attainable by any man, no matter how poor, who is capable of passing the necessary examinations, and that there should be no expense attached to those positions which the Government grant, or the pay, is not sufficient to cover. The officers could be appointed in any one of several ways: They might be elected by the men they would have to command, the only qualification required being that they had passed their examinations, or they might be appointed according to merit – the candidate obtaining the highest number of marks at the examinations to have the first call on any vacant post, and so on in order of merit. We believe in the total abolition of courts martial, any offence against discipline should be punishable by the ordinary civil law – no member of the Citizen Army being deprived of the rights of a citizen.’

‘What about the Navy?’ cried several voices.

‘Nobody wants to interfere with the Navy except to make its organization more democratic – the same as that of the Citizen Army – and to protect its members from tyranny by entitling them to be tried in a civil court for any alleged offence.

‘It has been proved that if the soil of this country were scientifically cultivated, it is capable of producing sufficient to maintain a population of a hundred millions of people. Our present population is only about forty millions, but so long as the land remains in the possession of persons who refuse to allow it to be cultivated we shall continue to be dependent on other countries for our food supply. So long as we are in that position, and so long as foreign countries are governed by Liberal and Tory capitalists, we shall need the Navy to protect our overseas commerce from them. If we had a Citizen Army such as I have mentioned, of nine or ten millions of men and if the land of this country was properly cultivated, we should be invincible at home. No foreign power would ever be mad enough to attempt to land their forces on our shores. But they would now be able to starve us all to death in a month if it were not for the Navy. It’s a sensible and creditable position, isn’t it?’ concluded Barrington. ‘Even in times of peace, thousands of people standing idle and tamely starving in their own fertile country, because a few land “Lords” forbid them to cultivate it.’

‘Is there any more questions?’ demanded Philpot, breaking a prolonged silence.

‘Would any Liberal or Tory capitalist like to get up into the pulpit and oppose the speaker?’ the chairman went on, finding that no one responded to his appeal for questions.

The silence continued.

‘As there’s no more questions and no one won’t get up into the pulpit, it is now my painful duty to call upon someone to move a resolution.’

‘Well, Mr. Chairman,’ said Harlow, ‘I may say that when I came on this firm I was a Liberal, but through listenin’ to several lectures by Professor Owen and attendin’ the meetings on the hill at Windley and reading the books and pamphlets I bought there and from Owen, I came to the conclusion some time ago that it’s a mug’s game for us to vote for capitalists whether they calls theirselves Liberals or Tories. They’re all alike when you’re workin’ for ’em; I defy any man to say what’s the difference between a Liberal and a Tory employer. There is none – there can’t be; they’re both sweaters, and they’ve got to be, or they wouldn’t be able to compete with each other. And since that’s what they are, I say it’s a mug’s game for us to vote ’em into Parliament to rule over us and to make laws that we’ve got to abide by whether we like it or not . There’s nothing to choose between ’em, and the proof of it is that it’s never made much difference to us which party was in or which was out. It’s quite true that in the past both of ’em have passed good laws, but they’ve only done it when public opinion was so strong in favour of it that they knew there was no getting out of it, and then it was a toss up which side did it.

‘That’s the way I’ve been lookin’ at things lately, and I’d almost made up my mind never to vote no more, or to trouble myself about politics at all, because although I could see there was no sense in voting for Liberal or Tory capitalists, at the same time I must admit I couldn’t make out how Socialism was going to help us. But the explanation of it which Professor Barrington has given us this afternoon has been a bit of an eye opener for me, and with your permission I should like to move as a resolution, “That it is the opinion of this meeting that Socialism is the only remedy for Unemployment and Poverty.”’

The conclusion of Harlow’s address was greeted with loud cheers from the Socialists, but most of the Liberal and Tory supporters of the present system maintained a sulky silence.

‘I’ll second that resolution,’ said Easton.

‘And I’ll lay a bob both ways,’ remarked Bundy. The resolution was then put, and though the majority were against it, the Chairman declared it was carried unanimously.

By this time the violence of the storm had in a great measure abated, but as rain was still falling it was decided not to attempt to resume work that day. Besides, it would have been too late, even if the weather had cleared up.

‘P’raps it’s just as well it ’as rained,’ remarked one man. ‘If it ’adn’t some of us might ’ave got the sack tonight. As it is, there’ll be hardly enough for all of us to do tomorrer and Saturday mornin’ even if it is fine.’

This was true: nearly all the outside was finished, and what remained to be done was ready for the final coat. Inside all there was to do was to colour wash the walls and to give the woodwork of the kitchen and scullery the last coat of paint.

It was inevitable – unless the firm had some other work for them to do somewhere else – that there would be a great slaughter on Saturday.

‘Now,’ said Philpot, assuming what he meant to be the manner of a school teacher addressing children, ‘I wants you hall to make a speshall heffort and get ’ere very early in the mornin’ – say about four o’clock – and them wot doos the most work tomorrer, will get a prize on Saturday.’

‘What’ll it be, the sack?’ inquired Harlow.

‘Yes,’ replied Philpot, ‘and not honly will you get a prize for good conduck tomorrer, but if you all keep on workin’ like we’ve bin doing lately till you’re too hold and wore hout to do any more, you’ll be allowed to go to a nice workhouse for the rest of your lives! and each one of you will be given a title – “Pauper!”’

And they laughed!

Although the majority of them had mothers or fathers or other near relatives who had already succeeded to the title – they laughed!

As they were going home, Crass paused at the gate, and pointing up to the large gable at the end of the house, he said to Philpot:

‘You’ll want the longest ladder – the 65, for that, tomorrow.’

Philpot looked up at the gable.

It was very high.


Last updated on 6 March 2020