from any cause, that the State might organize emigration to relieve its own condition.

On the whole we may say that under Sociali-m at its best there would not be more slavery than now; and the supposed diffused and universal slavery would in practice be no slavery, its very universality reducing it to nothing, like the uniform atmospheric pressure of so many pounds to the square inch that we are all unconscious of: as it would be every one's interest to resist and minimize the slavery, its shackles would fall off or cease to be felt while a species of real slavery that would cease or be lessened would be that of the present over-tasked and underpaid operative, male and female.

It is, indeed, objected that, the State being sole producer, the leaders and directors of industry, as well as all its higher officials, might be despotic; that all in command might be tyrannical to all who obey, and that the liberty of the latter would be at their rulers' mercy, without the hope of ever being able to shake them from their shoulders, save by a change of masters. This kind of slavery for the working classes in general and for all who have to obey is perhaps possible in some measure. But some industries and services are at present under State direction without its being found an intolerable despotism, while, as before stated, for the majority of labourers the necessity of their position places them in general in a state of merely mitigated slavery at present. A certain degree of diminution of liberty for the generality there probably would be under Socialism, but that would be a price

paid for greater security, and for the greater equalizing of opportunities. They have now at least some liberty of domicile; they may move from one part of the country to the other to get better wages, or for any other reason. They may even move as the tramp, vagabond and gipsy, for the mere pleasure of moving and asserting their freedom. This liberty of domicile or place of abode would probably be greatly contracted under Collectivism. M. Leroy-Beaulieu thinks it would hardly exist at all, because the State would be the sole owner of all the houses, and no one could change to a particular place unless the authorities allowed him a house. The objection from this side does not seem insurmountable, and is most probably exaggerated; but we shall see later on, from another side, that if the State wished to keep the values of things steady, it would have to transfer labour arbitrarily from place to place.

Liberty of demand for both material and immaterial things, the power of buying the things we pleased, would be narrowed, and liberty of thought and speech there could not be if the State was the sole owner of the printing presses and director of the printer's work. As to the former, we have seen that the choice of things to be produced would still have to be left largely to the consumer; as to the second, which involves the whole great question of freedom of thought and freedom of speech, such control could not for a moment be left in the hands of any power, temporal or spiritual. The State could be left to produce bread for us, but not to produce books, because our palates for spiritual sustenance differ so

much; and therefore printing and publishing would have to remain under private enterprise, however regulated.

Mill's main objection alike to Communism and to Socialism in all its forms, is that under either there would be no asylum left for individuality of character. He fears that public opinion would be a tyrannical yoke; and doubts "whether the absolute dependence of each on all and surveillance of each by all would not grind all down into a tame uniformity of thoughts, feelings, and actions." This he thinks is a glaring evil at present; the question is, would it not almost certainly be increased under Socialism, when all would receive the same general education and be subject to the same common influences. We should all thus cast in the same monotonous moulds, become as like as sheep in a flock. No more variety in talent and taste, in aspiration, in general character. The present interesting and various contact with people having different outlooks on things, the delightful exchange of ideas and points of view, the mutual supplementing and stimulating would be gone, every one would think the same thing as every other, and in every one we should find only our own echo. Conversation would lose all its charm, we should never escape from our own insufficient and intolerable selves, and society, which already suffers from the disease of uniformity, and the "general average," would become utterly weary, flat, and unprofitable.

Such—not exaggerated—is Mill's objection or apprehension as to Socialism and Communism,1

1 See" Pol. Economy," Bk. II. ch. I. §.3.

N

He is

evidently deeply impressed with it; and in fact there is much in it. I think, however, that Mill exaggerates the danger from this side, though it is real. There is no doubt that if we framed our conception of the Socialist State from More's Utopia, from existing communities, or even from the Fourierist scheme, there would be reason to dread the want of diversity of type, and even want of originality of thought, feeling, and character. Certain considerations, however, not dwelt on by Mill would remove some of the weight of the objection under a reasonable form of Collectivism, supposed otherwise practicable; one such consideration being the increasing variety of life owing to evolution, social, industrial, and even intellectual. Life gives increasing play in all directions to the division and specialization of work, and this very fact must prevent, under any possible Socialism, the dreaded uniformity and monotony of life and character, and must result, as a condition of its existence, in that diversity of talent and taste which Mill fears would be crushed. It can hardly be doubted that under any Socialism that is at all possible, there would be men of science, men of letters and artists, as well as inventors, engineers, captains of industhy, if not captains of war, and the whole hierarchy of labourers of all kinds. It is not to be doubted that the men of science would cultivate different provinces, that the cultivators of each branch would not be all equal in intellect, and that occasionally a Lyell or a Darwin might appear; there is not much danger that poets, historians, critics, essayists, novel writers would not be allowed in the Socialist

State in whatever way they might get their wages, or in whatever way the best might be selected, and these men of letters will differ in degree as well as in kind. A genius might be expected now and then to appear, and short of that there would always be some higher than others. The best would be numerous, and if the select in the different intellectual provinces should meet in some future Academy, they would still form good company, and it would not be for want of variety of outlook on life and the universe if they bore each other. The real danger is not that there would be little variety in taste and talents, but that the generality in the same sphere would be too like each other, and that there would be a sort of Chinese equality of intellect with little or no originality, and with, as a consequence, an arrest of development or diminished progress.

On the other hand, it must be remembered that under all schemes of Socialism, except Anarchism, the generality would receive a higher education than now, that all promise at least greater leisure than now for the generality, who consequently would most probably take greater pleasure in mental things, in literature, science, and art. And as this general light and culture would be wider and deeper, it would awaken and ripen the seeds of genius which now never get an opportunity; it is therefore highly probable that originality would, on the whole, be greatly increased. Certain it is that new veins of originality and genius would be struck in the virgin soil of the hitherto uncultivated minds of the mass which would yield rich results. That this is no fancy