Se.
Let me insert here a few remarks upon
a question that arises naturally out of the preceding
discussion, and that is the future of that miscellaneous
section of the community known as the middle class.
It is one that I happen to know with a peculiar intimacy.
For a century or more the grinding
out of the middle class has been going on. I
began to find it interesting-altogether
too interesting indeed, when I was still only a little
boy. My father was one of that multitude of small
shopkeepers which has been caught between the “Stores”
and such-like big distributors above and the rising
rates below, and from the knickerbocker stage onward
I was acutely aware of the question hanging over us.
“This isn’t going on,” was the proposition.
“This shop in which our capital is invested will
never return it. Nobody seems to understand what
is happening, and there is nobody to advise or help
us. What are we going to do?”
Except that people are beginning to
understand a little now what it all means, exactly
the same question hangs over many hundreds of thousands
of households to-day, not only over the hundreds of
small shopkeepers, but of small professional men,
of people living upon small parcels of investments,
of clerks who find themselves growing old and their
value depreciated by the competition of a new, better-educated
generation, of private school-masters, of boarding-and
lodging-house keepers and the like. They are all
vaguely aware of something more than personal failure,
of a drift and process which is against all their
kind, of the need of “doing something”
for themselves and their children, something different
from just sticking to the shop or the “situation”-and
they don’t know what to do! What ought
they to do?
Well, first, before one answers that,
let us ask what it is exactly that is grinding the
middle class in this way. Is it a process we can
stop? Can we direct the millstones? If we
can, ought we to do so? And if we cannot, or
decide that it isn’t worth while, then what can
we do to mitigate this cruelty of slowly impoverishing
and taxing out of existence a class that was once
the backbone of the community? It is not mere
humanity dictates this much, it is a question that
affects the State as a whole. It must be extremely
bad for the spirit of the nation and for our national
future that its middle mass should be in a state of
increasing financial worry and stress, irritated, depressed,
and broken in courage. One effect is manifest
in our British politics now. Each fresh election
turns upon expenditure more evidently than the last,
and the promise to reduce taxation or lower the rates
overrides more and more certainly any other consideration.
What are Empire or Education to men who feel themselves
drifting helplessly into debt? What chance has
any constructive scheme with an electorate of men
who are being slowly submerged in an economic bog?
The process that has brought the middle
class into these troubles is a complex one, but the
essential thing about it seems to be this, that there
is a change of scale going on in most human
affairs, a substitution of big organizations for detached
individual effort almost everywhere. A hundred
and fifty years ago or so the only very rich people
in the community were a handful of great landowners
and a few bankers; the rest of the world’s business
was being done by small prosperous independent men.
The labourers were often very poor and wretched, ill
clad, bootless, badly housed and short of food, but
there was nevertheless a great deal of middle-class
comfort and prosperity. The country was covered
with flourishing farmers, every country town was a
little world in itself, with busy tradespeople and
professional men; manufacturing was still done mainly
by small people employing a few hands, master and
apprentice working together; in every town you found
a private school or so, an independent doctor and
the like, doing well in a mediocre, comfortable fashion.
All the carrying trade was in the hands of small independent
carriers; the shipping was held by hundreds of small
shipowners. And London itself was only a larger
country town. It was, in effect, a middle-class
world ruled over by aristocrats; the millstones had
as yet scarcely stirred.
Then machinery came into the lives
of men, and steam power, and there began that change
of scale which is going on still to-day, making an
ever-widening separation of master and man and an ever-enlarging
organization of industry and social method. Its
most striking manifestation was at first the substitution
of organized manufacture in factories for the half-domestic
hand-industrialism of the earlier period; the growth
of the fortunes of some of the merchants and manufacturers
to dimensions comparable with the wealth of the great
landowners, and the sinking of the rest of their class
towards the status of wage-earners. The development
of joint-stock enterprise arose concurrently with
this to create a new sort of partnership capable of
handling far greater concerns than any single wealthy
person, as wealth was measured by the old scale, could
do. There followed a great development of transit,
culminating for a time in the coming of the railways
and steamships, which abolished the isolation of the
old towns and brought men at the remotest quarters
of the earth into business competition. Big towns
of the modern type, with half-a-million inhabitants
or more, grew up rapidly all over Europe and America.
For the European big towns are as modern as New York,
and the East End and south side of London scarcely
older than Chicago. Shopkeeping, like manufactures,
began to concentrate in large establishments, and
big wholesale distribution to replace individual buying
and selling. As the need for public education
under the changing conditions of life grew more and
more urgent, the individual enterprise of this school-master
and that gave place to the organized effort of such
giant societies as (in Britain) the old National School
Society and the British School Society, and at last
to State education. And one after another the
old prosperous middle-class callings fell under the
stress of the new development.
The process still goes on, and there
can be little doubt of the ultimate issue. The
old small manufacturers are either ruined or driven
into sweating and the slums; the old coaching innkeeper
and common carrier have been impoverished or altogether
superseded by the railways and big carrier companies;
the once flourishing shopkeeper lives to-day on the
mere remnants of the trade that great distributing
stores or the branches of great companies have left
him. Tea companies, provision-dealing companies,
tobacconist companies, make the position of the old-established
private shop unstable and the chances of the new beginner
hopeless. Railways and tramways take the
custom more and more effectually past the door of the
small draper and outfitter to the well-stocked establishments
at the centre of things; telephone and telegraph assist
that shopping at the centre more and more. The
small “middle-class” school-master finds
himself beaten by revived endowed schools and by new
public endowments; the small doctor, the local dentist,
find Harley Street always nearer to them and practitioners
in motor-cars from the great centres playing havoc
with their practices. And while the small men
are more and more distressed, the great organizations
of trade, of production, of public science, continue
to grow and coalesce, until at last they grow into
national or even world trusts, or into publicly-owned
monopolies. In America slaughtering and selling
meat has grown into a trust, steel and iron are trustified,
mineral oil is all gathered into a few hands.
All through the trades and professions and sciences
and all over the world the big eats up the small,
the new enlarged scale replaces the old.
And this is equally true, though it
is only now beginning to be recognized, of the securities
of that other section of the middle class, the section
which lives upon invested money. There, too, big
eats little. There, too, the small man is more
and more manifestly at the mercy of the large organization.
It was a pleasant illusion of the Victorian time that
one put one’s hundred pounds or thousand pounds
“into something,” beside the rich man’s
tens of thousands, and drew one’s secure and
satisfying dividends. The intelligent reader of
Mr. Lawson’s Frenzied Finance or of the
bankruptcy proceedings of Mr. Hooley realizes this
idyll is scarcely true to nature. Through the
seas and shallows of investment flow great tides and
depressions, on which the big fortunes ride to harbour
while the little accumulations, capsized and swamped,
quiver down to the bottom. It becomes more and
more true that the small man saves his money for the
rich man’s pocket. Only by drastic State
intervention is a certain measure of safety secured
for insurance, and in America recently we have had
the spectacle of the people’s insurance-money
used as a till by the rich financiers.
And when the middle-class man turns
in his desperation from the advance of the big competitor
who is consuming him, as a big codfish eats its little
brother, to the State, he meets a tax-paper; he sees
as the State’s most immediate aspect the rate-collector
and inexorable demands. The burthen of taxation
certainly falls upon him, and it falls upon him because
he is collectively the weakest class that possesses
any property to be taxed. Below him are classes
either too poor to tax or too politically effective
to stand taxation. Above him is the class which
owns a large part of the property in the world; but
it also owns the newspapers and periodicals that are
necessary for an adequate discussion of social justice,
and it finds it cheaper to pay a voluntary tax to
the hoardings at election time than to take over the
small man’s burdens. He rolls about between
these two parties, antagonized first to one and then
the other, and altogether helpless and ineffectual.
So the millstones grind, and so it would seem they
will continue to grind until there is nothing between
them; until organized property in the hands of the
few on the one hand and the proletariat on the other
grind face to face. So, at least, Karl Marx taught
in Das Kapital.
But when one says the middle class
will disappear, one means that it will disappear as
a class. Its individuals and its children will
survive, and the whole process is not nearly so fatalistic
as the Marxists would have us believe. The new
great organizations that are replacing the little
private enterprises of the world before machinery
are not all private property. There are alternatives
in the matter of handling a great business. To
the exact nature of these alternatives the middle-class
mind needs to direct itself if it is to exert any
control whatever over its future. Take the case
of the butcher. It is manifestly written on the
scroll of destiny that the little private slaughter-house,
the little independent butcher’s shop, buying
and selling locally, must disappear. The meat
will all be slaughtered at some great, conveniently
organized centre, and distributed thence to shops
that will necessarily be mere agencies for distributing
meat. Now, this great slaughtering and distributing
business may either be owned by one or a group of
owners working it for profit-in which case
it will be necessary for the State to employ an unremunerative
army of inspectors to see that the business is kept
decently clean and honest-or it may be
run by the public authority. In the former case
the present-day butcher or his son will be a slaughterman
or shopkeeper employed by the private owners; in the
latter case by the public authority. This is
equally true of a milk-seller, of a small manufacturer,
of a builder, of a hundred and one other trades.
They are bound to be incorporated in a larger organization;
they are bound to become salaried men where formerly
they were independent men, and it is no good struggling
against that. It is doubtful, indeed, whether
from the standpoint of welfare it would be worth the
middle-class man’s while to struggle against
that. But in the case of very many great public
services-meat, milk, bread, transit, housing
and land administration, education and research, and
the public health-it is still an open question
whether the big organization is to be publicly owned,
publicly controlled, and constantly refreshed by public
scrutiny and comment, or whether it is to be privately
owned, and conducted solely for the profit of a small
group of very rich owners. The alternatives are
Plutocracy or Socialism, and between these the middle-class
man remains weakly undecided and ineffectual, lending
no weight to and getting small consideration therefore
from either side. He remains so because he has
not grasped the real nature of his problem, because
he clings in the face of overwhelming fate to the
belief that in some way the wheels of change may be
arrested and his present method of living preserved.
I think, if he could shake himself
free from that impossible conservatism he would realize
that his interests lie with the interests of the intelligent
working-class man-that is to say, in the
direction of Socialism rather than in the direction
of capitalistic competition; that the best use he
can make of such educational and social advantages
as still remain for him is to become the willing leader
instead of the panic-fierce antagonist of the Socialist
movement. His place, I hold, is to forward the
development of that State and municipal machinery
the Socialist foreshadows, and to secure for himself
and his sons and daughters an adequate position and
voice in the administration. Instead of struggling
to diminish that burthen of public expenditure which
educates and houses, conveys and protects him and
his children, he ought rather to increase it joyfully,
while at the same time working manfully to transfer
its pressure to the broad shoulders of those very
rich people who have hitherto evaded their legitimate
share of it. The other course is to continue his
present policy of obstinate resistance to the extension
of public property and public services. In which
case these things will necessarily become that basis
of monopolistic property on which the coming plutocracy
will establish itself. The middle-class man will
be taxed and competed out of independence just the
same, and he will become a salaried officer just the
same, but with a different sort of master and under
different social conditions according as one or other
of these alternatives prevails.
Which is the better master-the
democratic State or a “combine” of millionaires?
Which will give the best social atmosphere for one’s
children to breathe-a Plutocracy or a Socialism?
That is the real question to which the middle-class
man should address himself.
No doubt to many minds a Plutocracy
presents many attractions. In the works of Thomas
Love Peacock, and still more clearly in the works of
Mr. W. H. Mallock, you will find an agreeable rendering
of that conception. The bulk of the people will
be organized out of sight in a state of industrious
and productive congestion, and a wealthy, leisurely,
and refined minority will live in spacious homes, with
excellent museums, libraries, and all the equipments
of culture; will go to town, concentrate in Paris,
London, and Rome, and travel about the world.
It is to these large, luxurious, powerful lives that
the idealist naturally turns. Their motor-cars,
their aeroplanes, their steam yachts will awaken terror
and respect in every corner of the globe. Their
handsome doings will fill the papers. They will
patronize the arts and literature, while at the same
time mellowing them by eliminating that too urgent
insistence upon contemporary fact which makes so much
of what is done to-day harsh and displeasing.
The middle-class tradition will be continued by a
class of stewards, tenants, managers, and foremen,
secretaries and the like, respected and respectful.
The writer, the artist, will lead lives of comfortable
dependence, a link between class and class, the lowest
of the rich man’s guests, the highest of his
servants. As for the masses, they will be fed
with a sort of careless vigour and considerable economy
from the Chicago stockyards, and by agricultural produce
trusts, big breweries, fresh-water companies, and
the like; they will be organized industrially and
carefully controlled. Their spiritual needs will
be provided for by churches endowed by the wealthy,
their physical distresses alleviated by the hope of
getting charitable aid, their lives made bright and
adventurous by the crumbs of sport that fall from
the rich man’s table. They will crowd to
see the motor-car races, the aeroplane competitions.
It will be a world rich in contrasts and not without
its gleam of pure adventure. Every bright young
fellow of capacity will have the hope of catching
the eye of some powerful personage, of being advanced
to some high position of trust, of even ending his
days as a partner, a subordinate assistant plutocrat.
Or he may win a quite agreeable position by literary
or artistic merit. A pretty girl, a clever woman
of the middle class would have before her even more
brilliant and romantic possibilities.
There can be no denying the promises
of colour and eventfulness a Plutocracy holds out,
and though they do not attract me, I can quite understand
their appeal to the more ductile and appreciative mind
of Mr. Mallock. But there are countervailing
considerations. There is, it is said, a tendency
in Plutocracies either to become unprogressive, unenterprising
and stagnantly autocratic, or to develop states of
stress and discontent, and so drift towards Caesarism.
The latter was the fate of the Roman Republic, and
may perhaps be the destiny of the budding young Plutocracy
of America. But the developing British Plutocracy,
like the Carthaginian, will be largely Semitic in blood,
and like the Carthaginian may resist these insurgent
tendencies.
So much for the Plutocratic possibility.
If the middle-class man on any account does not like
that outlook, he can turn in the other direction;
and then he will find fine promises indeed, but much
more uncertainty than towards Plutocracy. Plutocracies
the world has seen before, but a democratic civilization
organized upon the lines laid down by modern Socialists
would be a new beginning in the world’s history.
It is not a thing that will come about by itself; it
will have to be the outcome of a sustained moral and
intellectual effort in the community. If there
is not that effort, if things go on as they are going
now, the coming of a Plutocracy is inevitable.
That effort, I am convinced, cannot be successfully
made by the lower-class man alone; from him, unaided
and unguided, there is nothing to be expected but
wild convulsive attempts at social upheaval, which,
whether they succeed (as the French Revolution did)
or fail (as did the insurrectionary outbreaks of the
Republic in Rome), lead ultimately to a Napoleon or
a Cæsar. But our contemporary civilization is
unprecedented in the fact that the whole population
now reads, and that intelligence and free discussion
saturate the whole mass. Only time can show what
possibilities of understanding, leadership, and political
action lie in our new generation of the better-educated
middle class. Will it presently begin to define
a line for itself? Will it remain disorganized
and passive, or will it become intelligent and decisive
between these millstones of the organized property
and the organizing State, between Plutocracy and Socialism,
whose opposition is the supreme social and political
fact in the world at the present time?
Se.
Perhaps, also, it may be helpful here
to insert a view of the contemporary possibilities
of Socialism from a rather different angle, a view
that follows on to the matter of the previous section,
but appeals to a different section of the Middle Class.
It is a quotation from the Magazine of Commerce
for September 1907, and leads to an explanation by
the present writer.
“The recent return of Mr. Grayson,
a Socialist, as member of Parliament for the Colne
Valley, has brought prominently before the public
mind the question of Socialism. Mr. Pete Curran’s
success at Jarrow a month or so ago, and the large
number of Labour members returned at the last General
Election, caused more or less desultory comment
on Socialism as a possible feature of practical
politics in the remote future; but Mr. Grayson
can certainly claim that his achievement at Colne
Valley brought the question of Socialism in to
the very forefront at one bound. It is difficult
to ignore Socialism, to dismiss it as a mere fad
and fancy of a few hare-brained enthusiasts, after
Mr. Grayson’s success. The verdict
of Colne Valley may be the verdict of many another
constituency where the so-called working-class
electors are numerically predominant. When
we consider that the manual worker represents
the majority of the electorate of the country,
this contingency does not appear to be so very remote,
provided that the leaders of Socialism can organize
their resources and canvass the working-men on
a wide and carefully-planned scale. In this
respect the Colne Valley result may very well
give them the lead and stimulus they have been
waiting for. It must be borne in mind, too, that
the forward section of the Labour Party is avowedly
Socialist in its sympathies, and a definite start
may therefore be said to have been made towards
capturing the machinery of Government in the Cause
of Socialism.
“How will Socialism affect the
business world? This is a question which
many thoughtful business men must have already put
to themselves. For reply we must go to the leaders
of Socialism, and discover what their policy actually
is. The common impression that Socialism
spells barefaced confiscation is too superficial
to be seriously adduced as an argument against
Socialism. The leaders of the Cause include some
of the cleverest men of the day-men
who have a more rational basis for their policy
than that of simply robbing Peter to pay Paul.
The suggestion that Socialism means a compulsory ‘share
out’ may be rightly dismissed as an idle scare.
The most bitter opponent of Socialism must at
least admit that there is a stronger argument
to be met than that implied by the parrot-cry
of ‘spoliation.’ Socialism has, at
any rate, so far advanced as to be allowed the
ordinary courtesies of debate. We may oppose
it tooth and nail, but we must confront argument
with argument and not with abuse.
“Despite much excellent literature
which is read widely by cultured people, very
little is known by the general public of the principles
which modern British Socialists have adopted as their
guiding rules. Few business men care to study
the subject. We have therefore addressed
a letter to the chief leaders of the Cause, with
the purpose of ascertaining the effect which Socialism
would have on our business habits. Our object
was to discover how far Socialism might disturb or
improve business; whether it would altogether subvert
present methods, or whether it could be applied
without injury to these methods. To put the
matter very plainly, we wished to learn whether
we should carry on our business much as we do now,
giving free play to individual effort and individual
fortune-building.
“The reply of Mr. Wells
is as follows:-
“’MY
DEAR SIR,
“’I wish very much I
could reply at adequate length to your very
admirably framed question. The constant stream
of abuse and of almost imbecile misrepresentations
of Socialism in the Press has no doubt served
to distort the idea of our movement in the
minds of a large proportion of busy men, and
filled them with an unfounded dread of social
insecurity. If it were possible to allay
that by an epigrammatic programme, “Socialism
in a Nutshell,” so to speak, I would do my best.
But the economic and trading system of a modern State
is not only a vast and complex tangle of organizations,
but at present an uncharted tangle, and necessarily
the methods of transition from the limited individualism
of our present condition to the scientifically-organized
State, which is the Socialist ideal, must
be gradual, tentative and various.
“’To build up a body
of social and economic science, to develop
a class of trained administrators, to rearrange local
government areas, to educate the whole community in
the “sense of the State” are necessary
parts of the Socialist scheme. You must
try and induce your readers to recognize that
when Socialism finds such supporters as Sir
Oliver Lodge and Professor Karl Pearson, as William
Morris (who revolutionized the furniture trade), as
Granville Barker (who is revolutionizing the London
stage), as Mr. George Cadbury and Mr. Fels
(whose names are not unknown in the world
of advertisement), as Mr. Allan (of the Allan
Line), as Mr. George Bernard Shaw and Mrs.
Shaw, Mr. and Mrs. Sidney Webb and Sir Sidney Olivier
(the present Governor of Jamaica)-all of
them fairly comfortable and independent people,
practically acquainted with the business of
investment and affairs generally and quite
alive to the present relations of property
to the civilized life-the suggestion that
it is a raid of the ignorant “Have-nots”
on the possessions of the wise and good “Haves”
cannot be a very intelligent one nor addressed
to very intelligent people. Essentially
Socialism is the scientifically-organized
State as distinguished from the haphazard,
wasteful, blundering, child-sweating State of the
eighteenth century. It is the systematization
of present tendency. Necessarily its
methods of transition will be progressively
scientific and humane.
“’So far as your specific
questions go, I do not think there could possibly
be anything in the nature of “compulsory
profit-sharing” if a Socialist Government came
into office. There is at present a compulsory
profit-sharing in the form of an income-tax,
but that tax does not appeal to the Socialist
as a particularly scientific one. The
advent of a strongly-Socialist Government
would mean no immediate revolutionary changes at
all. There would be, no doubt, a vigorous acceleration
of the educational movement to increase the economic
value and productivity of the average citizen of
the next generation, and legislation upon the lines
laid down by the principle of the “minimum
wage” to check the waste of our national
resources by destructive employment.
Also a systematic shifting of the burthen of taxation
from enterprise to rent would begin. But nothing
convulsive would occur.’”
“’The means of transit
and communication of the country (both internal
and external), and especially the railways
and canals (which are now rapidly falling into inefficiency
through the exhaustion of their capital upon
excessive dividends in the past), would probably be
transferred from competitive private to organized
public control-a transfer that
would certainly be enormously stimulating
to business generally. There would be no “robbery,”
the former shareholders would become stock or annuity
holders. Nor would there be any financial convulsion
due to the raising of the “enormous sum”
necessary to effect this purchase. The
country would simply create stock, while at
the same time taking over assets to balance
the new liability.
“’A Socialist Government
would certainly also acquire the coal mines
and the coal trade, and relieve industry from
the inconveniences due to the manipulation of the
supply of this vitally important factor, and
it would accelerate the obvious tendency of
the present time to bring the milk trade,
the drink trade, slaughtering, local traffic,
lighting and power supply into public hands.
But none of this is the destruction of property, but
only its organization and standardization. Such
a State organization of public services is,
I submit, enough to keep a Socialist Government
busy for some few years, and makes not only
for social progress, but social stability.
“’And does an honest
and capable business man stand to lose or
gain by the coming of such a Socialist Government?
I submit that, on the whole, he stands to gain.
Let me put down the essential points in his outlook
as I conceive them.
“’Under
a Socialist Government such as is quite possible
in
England at the present time:-
“’He
will be restricted from methods of production and
sale
that are socially mischievous.
“’He
will pay higher wages.
“’He will pay a larger
proportion of his rate-rent outgoings to the
State and Municipality, and less to the landlord.
Ultimately he will pay it all to the State or Municipality,
and as a voter help to determine how it shall
be spent, and the landlord will become a Government
stock-holder. Practically he will get his rent
returned to him in public services.
“’He
will speedily begin to get better-educated,
better-fed
and better-trained workers, so that he will
get
money value for the higher wages he pays.
“’He
will get a regular, safe, cheap supply of power and
material.
He will get cheaper and more efficient
internal
and external transit.
“’He
will be under an organized scientific State, which
will
naturally pursue a vigorous scientific collective
policy
in support of the national trade.
“’He
will be less of an adventurer and more of a
citizen....’”
So I wrote to the Magazine of Commerce,
and that for the energetic man who is conducting a
real and socially useful business is the outlook.
Socialism is not the coming of chaos and repudiation,
it is the coming of order and justice. For confusion
and accident and waste, the Socialist seeks to substitute
design and collective economy. That too is the
individual aim of every good business man who is not
a mere advertising cheat or financial adventurer.
To the sound-minded, clear-headed man of affairs,
Socialism appeals just as it appeals to the scientific
man, to the engineer, to the artist, because it is
the same reality, the large scale aspect of the same
constructive motive, that stirs in himself.
Se.
Let me finally quote the chairman
of one of the most enterprising and enlightened business
organizations of our time to show that in claiming
the better type of business man for modern Socialism
I am making no vain boast. Sir John Brunner may
not call himself a Socialist, but this is very probably
due to the fact that he gets his ideas of Socialism
from the misquotations of its interested adversaries.
This that follows from the Manchester Guardian
is pure Socialism.
Speaking at the annual meeting of Brunner,
Mond and Co., Ltd., in Liverpool (1907),
the chairman, Sir John Brunner, M.P., made a remarkable
pronouncement on the subject of the collective
ownership of canals. He said:-
“I have been one of a Royal Commission
visiting the North of France, Belgium, and Northern
Germany, and our duty has been to examine what
those three countries have done in the improvement
of their canals and their waterways. We have been
very deeply impressed by what we have seen, and
I can tell you to-day, speaking as a man of business
to men of business, that the fact that in these
three countries there is communal effort-that
is to say, that the State in money and in credit for
the benefit of the national trade-has brought
to those three countries enormous, almost incalculable,
benefits; and I think that any man, any intelligent
man, who studies this matter as I have studied
it for a great many years, will come the conclusion,
as I have come very clearly and decidedly, that
the old policy which we have adopted for generations
of leaving all public works to private enterprise-the
old policy, so called, of laissez faire-is
played out completely, and I am of opinion, very
firmly, that, if we mean to hold our own in matters
of trade, we must learn to follow the example
that has been set us not only by France, Belgium,
and Germany, but by the United States and by every
one of the Colonies of our Empire. Everywhere
do you find that trade is helped by the effort
of the community, by the force of the State, and
I shall be very heartily pleased if those who hear
me will think the matter over and decide for themselves
whether or not we as business people-preeminently
the business people of the world-are
to maintain the old policy of leaving everything
to private enterprise, or whether we are to act
together for the good of all in this important matter
of the national trade.”