race; and that, wherever they exist and are tolerated complacently, do definitely retard the progress, not only of those who suffer from them, and of those who tolerate them or benefit materially or socially from them, but also, indirectly, of the peoples of the whole world. The other is, that any fresh influence consciously brought to bear on a community or on a nation involves responsibility on the part of those who introduce it. That responsibility involves the duty of securing that the community or the nation is not injured or degraded by the new influence. Further, it may fairly be demanded that if the new activity brings gain in any form to the introducers, it is only fair that a proportionate gain should accrue to those through whom the bringers of the new elements have secured their profit.

There is a fashion of speaking of the industrial advance of a country as if it consisted in production and export. "It is almost forgotten that the object of development is the welfare of a certain race or community of human beings." For India, as for all other nations, the demand for gradual development towards full human life must be made for all sections of the community. If such opportunity is to be open to all, then economic changes, however inevitable, must not be suffered to advance the interests of the few at the cost of the many; nor even of the many at the cost of definite groups, whether that cost is experienced in moral, mental, or physical loss. This may seem a counsel of perfection remote from the way in which life is lived to-day. It is an aim, and it may be necessary to admit that it is a far-off aim. But it is a commanding aim if the race is to maintain its human stature. The idea of a world-society cooperating for good and possessing the future has dawned on this generation as on no previous one, and the responsibility of working for it cannot be repudiated without dishonour.

"The Art of Economic Development," by H. Stanley Jevons, University Professor of Economics, Allahabad, Indian Journal of Economics, vol. iii, part iii, p. 310.

CHAPTER II

CIVILIZATION AND POVERTY

It would be interesting to prefix to this study an examination of the state of society in Britain when the Industrial Revolution took place. To do so would encroach too much on the space available, and would place between the reader and the real subject of this essay a lengthy yet inadequate account of much that could be gathered elsewhere. There are two outstanding differences between the British and the Indian situation. The type of civilization into which modern industrialism forced itself in the east is entirely unlike that of the west; and the deliberateness of the spread of production by mechanical power in India, and the narrowness of the areas that it has affected in that country, are in marked contrast to the suddenness of its intrusion and the width of its scope in the west, especially in Britain.

If the burden of filling in the contrasting picture is left to the reader, it is still desirable to attempt to give some idea of the civilization (on its social and economic side, and as far as it affects conditions of labour) into which modern industrial methods penetrated in India, and which still exists over vast areas of that country scarcely affected by machinery or by modern ideas of finance; and to touch on the history of the coming of machinery to the city centres there.

The civilization to which reference is made includes every stratum of society. There are no groups of the population within which it is nobody else's business what the individuals do. Each life is regulated by rules that have been kept for thousands of years, and that demand detailed obedience from outcaste and from Brahman.

It is true that these customs change unobtrusively and become modified, so that it is impossible to lay down hard and fast rules and to say that this is always so or that that never varies. But even when all allowance is made for such gradual modifications there remains the fact that every change in life and occupation must take knowledge of, make room for, and be influenced by, the rules of an ancient and complicated civilization.

Opportunities of seeing Indian life in intimacy and in detail make the inner force of this civilization abundantly apparent; but even the fleeting glance of the new-comer in any of the great ports of arrival may catch superficial evidence of it. The varying robes, each with its note of significance, reminding one of an endless chain of links with the far past; the dignity of carriage of men and women of varying ranks, and their lack of self-consciousness; the ease with which the children slip into postures familiar to the stranger only in the images of the gods; the fearless wandering of the cattle through the streets unmolested by young or old-these and many other signs tell of the long corporate history of the peoples of India. So spontaneous do these outward signs of controlled life seem to be that there is no appearance of conscious voluntary co-operation. If it is the case that the growth of conscious co-operation has been discouraged by the want of a felt need for it in such a fully regulated scheme of life, this fact may prove a clue to some of the difficulties that will have to be overcome before a healthy social life in new conditions can be secured.

This ancient civilization has in it no place for the huge modern industrial concern. Economically it is based on agriculture, and on home, or small collective, industries, and its heads are the Zamindar, the small merchant, and the moneylender. Its exchange values are arranged by custom and by bargain, and in many districts payment is still made in grain or in service. Unacknowledged commission is deducted at every opportunity, and indebtedness is so general a condition amongst the poorer inhabitants that there are areas of which it can be said

that no one is free from the clutches of the moneylender except those who themselves lend money.

There is scarcely a feature of the civilization of India that is not undergoing change and modification at the present time, so that it is difficult to make general statements. Even where there is no rapid change, outstanding characteristics have varied, and do vary greatly, in different parts of the continent, and amongst different sections of the varying communities. At the same time

a certain knowledge of a background is necessary.

The joint-family system is characteristic of the majority of Indian homes. To this there are probably fewer exceptions amongst the labouring folk than amongst the educated and wealthy. Under this system the family group consists of all the descendants in the male line from a common ancestor, with their wives and their unmarried daughters, and may include seventy or eighty people, even in India, where the average lifetime is only about twenty-three years. The head of this community bears the responsibility for the support of the whole number, and has authority over all. This authority, though not technically shared by his wife, is often vested in her and wielded by her. The head of the family is not necessarily the oldest living representative. The latter may have retired and handed over his authority to his son or brother, for in the Hindu plan of life a man is free at an early age to give up worldly responsibilities and retire, first to leisure, and then, if he will, to a life of religious devotion.

To a great extent property is a family possession, and though, as is the case in some places, the head may have power over its disposal during his lifetime, he has usually no power to will it away from the family nor to prevent its division amongst the different members at his death or retirement if partition is the custom of the locality.2

The working members of the family thus shoulder

Other than outcastes.

See A Study of Indian Economics, by Pramathanath Banerjea, D.Sc., P. 40.

the burden of the support of the sick and feeble. The pressure that is brought to bear on those reluctant to work comes from the family group to which they belong, and, though there may be injustices and inequalities of treatment, the member of such a community, as long as he does not depart from its customary demands, is sure of shelter and food. In the labouring-class family there is not the same likelihood that large numbers of ablebodied dependents will gather round the verandah and attempt to share the income without contributing labour, as there is under the same system in wealthier groups of society, where the number of a man's dependents may be almost a matter of congratulation as a sign of his wealth.

The

But there are very real, practical difficulties associated with the system. The family lands may not be large enough to employ the whole group. The family trade may be wholly met in the given locality by those already occupied in it, and the family system retards, where it does not actually prevent, the younger members' search for work elsewhere. When such a family group has begun to feel financial difficulties, or has only just managed to meet its obligations, debts incurred for social and religious ceremonies, especially for the marriages of its daughters, involve permanent impoverishment. imperative demands created by periods of scarcity, when prices rise suddenly and ruin stares the cultivator in the face, lead to increased indebtedness. In times of still more acute crisis, when continued failure of monsoon rains or pressure by the moneylender leaves the head of the family without resource, the whole community may be broken up and each unit may be driven from the shelter of the homestead to beg, or to seek for work as a coolie. The system having tended, even in prosperous days, to discourage independence and initiative, leaves its members singularly helpless.

The typical home occupied by a prosperous family group is built round a court. Business is carried on and much of the public life is lived in an outer verandah and in the rooms which open on to it. The women's apart