Rebuilding Britain: A Survey of Problems of Reconstruction After the World War

VICTORY AND PEACE

A few still perhaps remain of those who, as under-graduates at the time of the Franco-German War, remember Dean Stanley's first sermons after many years of exclusion from the Oxford University pulpit. Using in one of them his favourite plan of giving life to ancient literature by modern illustrations and conversely making modern tendencies clearer by references to ancient thought, he took the words of the Hebrew prophet, applying them to the troubles and strife of the time. "Who is this that cometh from Edom with dyed garments from Bozrah?" What will emerge from the bloodshed of war and the chaos of communal revolution? The answer was given—"It may be, it must be a united Germany; it may be, it must be a regenerate France."

Truly it has been a regenerate France that, with firm resolve and calm courage, has suffered and withstood invasion, far different from the France which in 1870 went to war with light heart, excited and unprepared, anticipating easy victory. War shattered the Empire and the true soul of France was found.

Well might the "Song before Sunrise" again greet the purified France:—

May we soon be able to add the conclusion!—

The prophecy in both parts was fulfilled. Germany did indeed become united, united not only by closer political ties between all its divisions, but united in its aims and in its methods, conscious of union and of strength, marvellous in its power of organisation, fitting each member into his special position in the consolidated state, and moulding him for the place he was to occupy; drilled from earliest youth how to act and how to think, his commonest acts done, and very gestures made, according to rule. Yet they, too, had their ideals. I remember in 1871, the year after the Franco-German War, meeting a party of Germans who were unveiling a tablet by the Pasterze Glacier in memory of a comrade fallen in the war—Karl Hoffman, a pioneer of mountaineering in the Glockner district—and hearing their impassioned speeches. The mountains of Austrian Tyrol were to them "die Alpen seines Vaterlandes," and the song with the refrain, "Lieb Vaterland muss grösser sein" echoed from the rocks, "My beloved Fatherland must be greater"; may not this be the expression of a noble patriotism? But it so easily turns to "my country must have more, must take more," and becomes the very watchword of greed. "Deutschland über Alles" might perhaps mean first to the German "My country before everything to me." Corruptio optimi pessima, it easily becomes "Germany over all,"—the country which dominates an inferior world and is thus the condensed motto of supreme insolence. "Insolence breeds the tyrant," and the doom the ancient poet prophesies is the divine ordinance to be fulfilled by the action of man. "Insolence, swollen with vain thought, mounts to the highest place, and is hurled down to the doom decreed."

Insolence seems the nearest equivalent for the Greek word [Greek: hybris], which implies much more. Some translate it "pride." It is a sense of superiority, greater strength, higher culture, leading to a claim to dominate the minds and the lives, the destinies, of others, and then in its arrogant self-assertion to override all laws and all restraints imposed by justice. It is the exact opposite of the Christian precept: "Let each esteem other better than himself." This, like some other Christian precepts, may never have been meant to express the whole truth, but only that side which men are naturally apt to neglect. It was hardly necessary to insist that men should defend themselves against attack, maintain their rights, and keep their self-respect. There are some crimes, too, which it required no special revelation to condemn; man revolts from them as contra naturam. One of these crimes is refusal to aid their fellow-countrymen who are fighting against aggression.

With the spirit that claims to dominate in its "will to power," to override the eternal laws of justice, there can be no compromise. Until that spirit is vanquished, the answer to the question, "Is it peace?" must be, "What hast thou to do with peace, so long as thy brutal acts and thy tyrannies are so many?" The order is given to smite. With profit now we may recall the old narrative,—"And he smote thrice, and stayed. And the man of God was wroth with him, and said, Thou shouldest have smitten five or six times; then hadst thou smitten" the enemy till thou hadst destroyed his evil will. The work must be completed thoroughly; but that task once accomplished, to continue war, whether open or veiled, either to satisfy national hatred and the mere wish for vengeance, or, still more, in the desire of gain, would be to become—to use George Herbert's words—"parcel devils in damnation" with those who have driven or beguiled Germany to crime against humanity and to her own undoing. It is but too easy for heroic effort and firm determination to defend the right, to be corrupted either by a spirit of insolence or greed. Even as we sow the seeds for a fruitful harvest of good, the arch-enemy may be sowing the tares. On the other hand, to cease from work and from struggle, either through fear or slackness or weariness, or even from that pacific temperament which shrinks from contest of any kind, may have results almost equally fatal. That other prayer of the Greek poet is for us also. "But I ask that the god will never relax that struggle which is for the State's true welfare"—"the contest in which citizen vies with citizen who shall best serve the State."

PEACE AND THE CONSTITUTION

It is not only international peace that must be assured. As a necessary condition for reconstruction comes the need for Peace, peace real and lasting, and peace all round. There may be times when the nation or the individual needs the bracing stimulus, if not of war, at least of competition and of conflict in the realm of thought and in the realm of action; times when old institutions, old creeds, old systems, old customs, are fiercely attacked and vigorously defended. The storm clears the air, and the struggle ends in the survival of the fittest. After the War the nations, and our own not least, wearied of strife, exhausted by losses, will need all their energies to repair those losses, to rebuild, often in quite new form, what the havoc of war has destroyed, and to adapt themselves to the changed conditions of an altered world. It will be a time neither for contest nor for rest, but for co-operation, mutual help in the work, not merely of restoration, but of building up something better in its place, where the old has been destroyed, or shown its defects under the strain. For this, Peace is needed, peace not only between the nations, but peace between different classes and opposing parties, and even divergent Churches; international, industrial, political and religious peace. There will be so much that ought by general agreement to be done, the ideals to be set before us will have so much in common, their realisation will need so much work in concert, such concurrence as to the practical steps to be taken, such goodwill among those who must work together with a common aim, that a "truce of God" between those who were once opponents may be called for. For a time at least old shibboleths might be forgotten, and the old so-called "principles," round which so many barren contests of the past have been waged, might cease to hamper us in adopting the practical measures which the exigencies of the time demand.

It is a significant fact, a note of sure and certain hope of the ultimate result in the struggle against the powers of darkness, that men are ready now to think and to act on the assumption that complete victory will be achieved, and that the foundations for reconstruction may now be laid, even while war is raging most fiercely. This work of preparation to meet the difficulties that will arise after the War need not interfere in any way with the paramount necessity of carrying on the War to a successful issue, or divert the attention of those who are engaged in that task. It is indeed matter for congratulation that in the present Parliament, in spite of necessary preoccupation with matters directly affecting the conduct of the War, a great Parliamentary Reform, changing and enlarging the basis of representation, has been carried through, and that the way to a great advance in Education has been made possible.

These great changes have been made with something approaching to general concurrence. On one question unfortunately proposals made as part of their considered scheme for electoral reform by a representative conference were set aside. The influence of old party machinery and a sluggish reluctance to take the trouble to understand either its character or its importance prevented the introduction of a system of proportional representation. The representatives of the caucuses scored a success towards slamming the door of the House of Commons in the face of the detached judgment, moderation of language, and independence of character which Parliament needs. The electors desire to have such qualities in their representatives, but care is taken to prevent their giving effect to it. But it is better to let even that question rest for a time.

It would have been most unfortunate if it had been necessary, after the War, when delay in dealing with many matters which will be most urgent would be disastrous, to arouse contests about alterations in the electorate and mode of election. The new Parliament may, after all, turn out to be fairly representative of the nation, and may set about the practical work of reconstruction at once. It would have been an advantage if the Reform of the House of Lords could also have been disposed of in the present Parliament, but it is not one of the questions upon which the welfare of the country will immediately depend. Everyone admits the need for reform; the abolition of the "backwoods-man" must come; but it is the men of most experience in public affairs who regularly attend sittings of the House of Lords, and they contribute even now a valuable element in promoting useful legislation as well as in revising and amending the Bills initiated in another place. Most of the amendments of the Law which marked the latter half of the nineteenth century were first introduced in the House of Lords.

During this time of severe test, it cannot be denied that the House of Lords has gained in the respect of the nation, that its debates have not only been dignified but often useful and enlightening, nor that, as at other times in its past history, it has shown itself to be quite as ready as the other House to be a guardian of law and of liberty. The business ability of many of its members has also been conspicuous, and the value of the experience of those who have taken part in the government of British possessions beyond the seas and of their knowledge of other countries has been demonstrated.

Of the Crown and its influence it is unnecessary, perhaps unbecoming, to say much. It has made for the unity of the Empire, not only as a symbol, but, so far as the strict limitations of our Constitution permit, as an active force. The existence of the monarchy and the character of three successive sovereigns, and their real personal interest in its people, are among the causes why India has been, and especially why the Native States have been, as a rule, so loyal in this time of danger, when the support of the whole Empire was so much needed. In our own country the example set of ever ready and earnest sympathy with all who are suffering from the effects of the War, feeling its strain and bearing its burdens, from the highest to the humblest, and also of that simplicity of life now so vitally important for all in the time of general self-denial, which is necessary or, at any rate, a duty for all, has been one of the real factors in knitting all classes of the nation together in useful service and willing sacrifice. Could anyone read the royal speech to the nation on July 6th, 1918, and the words of the Archbishop of Canterbury at St. Paul's, and of the leaders in Parliament, without feeling what a mighty influence for good there is in the British monarchy? Those words were not decorous platitudes demanded by convention, but the expression of genuine and intense feeling.

is an inheritance of our country which no theoretical discussions about forms of government can interfere with, unless we are insane enough to abandon the practical good sense that has brought the nation safely through so many perils, in deference to some a priori argument about the best form of government, and the logical result of some so-called principles. In politics—always using the term in its broad meaning, and not as denoting the disputes and manoeuvres of parties, like the contests between the green and blue factions of Byzantium—there is a strong presumption that whatever is recommended as "logical" is also foolish. It would be well to prescribe a severe course of Burke for the a priori theorists, and while they are occupied with it, set ourselves to the real work. We should not forget, too, that Court influence, which in some past times fostered corruption in political life, has for eighty years been as a rule a purifying influence. It would not be easy for any Minister, pressed by the political exigencies of the hour, to submit, even for formal approval, to a sovereign who has only the national interest to think of, perhaps most difficult of all to a high-minded and clear-headed woman, a course of action that was dishonourable or mean.

However important the influence of the Crown and the functions of a Second Chamber may be, it is the House of Commons which is the corner-stone of the Constitution. Through it the will of the nation must be expressed, and embodied in definite action. The representatives in that House are those chosen by the nation by regular and legal methods to exercise their judgment, to enact laws, and to control acts of the executive. It is essential not only to maintain, but to restore the position of the House of Commons, and insure for it the respect and confidence of the people. It is impossible to deny that respect and confidence have been shaken, and that the position of the House is threatened from two opposite quarters. We hear it daily spoken of as "that talking shop"; it has been said that it would be better, instead of having a fine statue of Cromwell outside, to have a living Cromwell inside to purge it thoroughly. The story of the officer who, on returning to England after long residence in the East, asked his father if "that nonsense was going on still," represents a feeling which is widespread. The present House of Commons, the existence of which has been necessarily prolonged, has been the subject of bitter and contemptuous criticism. Much of that criticism is unfair. In spite of the fact that its attention had first to be directed to questions directly affecting the War, it has passed the largest extension of the franchise ever made, and in doing so without doubt carried out the wish of the nation. It got rid of the fetters imposed on the free expression of the will of the electors, and the restrictions placed on the free selection of candidates of small means, by putting the expenses of returning officers on public funds, and also by making better provision for the revision of the register of voters. A number of useful Bills have been passed, and it has been a means of eliciting information from the Government which the country ought to have, but which would otherwise have been withheld. It has voted the necessary supplies for carrying on the War, and freely and readily assented to the increased taxation that was essential. Unfortunately it is the practice in a portion of the Press always to give prominence to the strange antics of certain members and the vicious attempts made by some to embarrass the Government in carrying on the War. A scene in the House of Commons is fully reported; the good work done, especially by certain useful committees, passes almost unnoticed. It is true, however, that the character of many of the debates has been regrettable, and that as regards what is perhaps its most important function, namely, the control of expenditure, the House has not been able to exercise its functions as it should.

It was pointed out years ago that the House of Commons was in practice ceasing to be what it ought, according to Constitutional theory, to be, "a deliberative assembly of the representatives of the nation discussing and forming judgments on national policy, instituting legislation and determining its form," and was becoming simply "a body for registering the decrees of a Cabinet." In practice it was assumed to be "the duty of the minority in opposition to find objections to the proposals of the Government, representing the majority, and to occupy time in voting against them as often as possible, and on the other hand that it is the duty of the majority to refrain from discussion, to applaud Ministers, and to make sure that whatever they propose shall be carried by undiminished numbers." In this respect the present House is no worse than its predecessors for the last thirty years; the political truce has indeed improved matters in some respects. It is at least doubtful whether under "pre-War conditions" either the Representation of the People Bill or the Education Bill could have been carried, certainly they would not have been passed in a form to secure so much general consent. Instead of such consent, some measure strongly opposed by a minority might have been forced through by free use of the closure. A new danger has arisen, however, of a still more serious kind, threatening the position of the House of Commons. It is that, instead of national policy being controlled by legislation, settled by a recognised constitutional body elected according to definite rules and representing the nation, the real power of initiative and real directing force may pass to some other body or bodies unknown to the law and representing only a class or even to certain writers in the popular Press. The House of Commons, unless its constitutional powers and its independence are maintained or restored, may become a body for registering and giving legal sanction to the resolutions of some conference or convention indefinite in its constitution, but highly organised for the purpose of making representatives in Parliament mere delegates to carry out the proposals of the majority of those who themselves had acted as delegates of a section only of the community.

The course of revolution in Russia should be a warning to all. Russia is passing through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, where is heard "the continual howling and yelling of a people under unutterable misery, who sit there bound in affliction and iron, and over it hang the discouraging clouds of confusion; death also does always spread his wings over it. In a word it is every whit a dreadful being utterly without order." Had there been in Russia a regularly constituted assembly possessing adequate power and representing the nation as a whole, including the "bourgeoisie"—who also "are God's creatures"—as well as workmen, instead of irregular bodies appealing to the greed and hatred of a class, most of the misery through which Russia is passing might have been prevented, and the prospects of early restoration would have been assured. The British nation is too sane, too used to orderly freedom, to adopt either the spirit or the methods of the Bolsheviks, but we may hear of them even in this country. They may perhaps give serious trouble and interfere with progress on sound lines. The historic House of Commons must be the means of carrying out Reconstruction so far as legislation, and of controlling it so far as State action is required. Some changes in its methods will be discussed in the chapters on Reform, but the maintenance of the Constitution as the best instrument for promoting orderly, peaceful, and real progress is essential.

The peace we need would only be uselessly disturbed, and the practical reforms most urgently required would only be delayed by raising controversial questions about the form of the Constitution. We may well let them alone, and get on with something that will be of real benefit.

PEACE AND DEMOCRACY

It is often assumed that a change in the form of Government in Germany would completely alter the attitude and conduct of the nation, and secure permanent peace, but that alone would not be sufficient. It would undoubtedly help; for under a more popular Government it would be easier for a different spirit in the German nation to assert itself. Democracies, however, have from time to time been aggressive, and have claimed to dominate their neighbours. A change far deeper than a change in the form of Government is needed. The claim put forward both by word and deed to impose the German will on others by organised force of any kind must be abandoned utterly, if the world is to be really at peace with Germany and with those whom Germany has been able to compel or to beguile into alliance with her. The conflict is not simply between autocracy or oligarchy and democracy, but between different ideals and diametrically opposed notions of duty. The conception of their State as an organisation carefully arranged to impose its will on others regardless of their feelings and their rights must be eradicated. Democracy and Liberty do not necessarily go together. There may be democracy without liberty, and it is possible though not probable that there may be real liberty without the form of democracy. An enlightened monarch, governing as well as reigning, may express the real will of a nation more truly than the vote of a majority of representatives; and individual liberty may be more secure under such a monarch than when it is dependent on the result of divisions taken when party passion is running high. But such a rule must lack the element of stability. The Antonines pass away and Commodus and Heliogabalus rule in their place. Permanent strength and settled liberty are best secured when the acts of Government are the expression of the conscious will of the nation as a whole, where the people think out for themselves the general lines of action and the Government is their minister. It is not enough that there should be a just rule in which they acquiesce, but it is they themselves who should act—through agents, no doubt—and learn the habit of forming right judgments and acting justly. To deny him a share in political life—that is, in deciding the action of the State to which he belongs—is to deprive a man of one of those "activities of the soul which constitute happiness," to take from him one of the things that makes a full life for those who really live among their fellows. There may always be a few who live apart, contemplative souls

Some may build themselves a Palace of Art where they may live alone; some may sink themselves in luxury or repose in sluggish indifference, careless of the life of others round them, with neither the heart to feel nor head to understand anything beyond their own immediate wants. But the highest aim and fullest life for man generally—as "an animal more social than the bee"—is

Political action may be one of the means of carrying on that fight. Is it not one of the "rights of man" to be allowed to join in it?

It is, however, not to be forgotten that men acting in the mass, just as men acting individually, may act under sudden impulse, may do under the influence of temporary passion, even of a generous emotion, things which they would regret afterwards, and feel to be an error. Some checks on such sudden action are most essential in a democracy, because there is no appeal from its decision. A reverence for tradition, for those rules of conduct which have stood the test of time, is one restraining influence, but more formal restraints on sudden decisions and violent changes are necessary. A single vote of a popular assembly may not represent the well-considered judgment and permanent will of the people. Steps may be taken which it is impossible to recall. To insist on an appeal from "Philip drunk to Philip sober" is not to deprive him of his real liberty. It is a safeguard, not an infringement of the principles of true democracy, to provide some body of men of experience who can exercise an independent judgment, and who, when some violent change is proposed, have the right and the duty to reply in effect:

Such a justification, such a statement of the function of a Second Chamber, not directly elected, may provoke a histrionic smile among extreme advocates of so-called popular rights, but has never evoked an argument which can displace it as based on sound reason and common sense. There are some changes, too, which ought not to be made without a specific appeal to the people on that particular issue. To make them as part of the programme, as one plank in the platform of a party dominant for the moment, is not to execute but to evade the real will of the nation. We know by experience how the vote of a popular representative assembly may represent the opinion of "a bare majority of a bare majority;" conceivably anything over one-eighth of the nation. A committee is elected by some eager partisans supposed to represent a party. That party perhaps represents a bare majority of the constituency. The caucus chooses a candidate whose views suit a bare majority of its members who hold the most extreme views. He and others go to Parliament as representing one party, and a majority of such members decides what policy shall be adopted. Party discipline compels the acquiescence of the rest. The machine is cleverly constructed to make the will of certain party managers of mere sections of the constituencies the dominant factor. No wonder that they denounce Proportional Representation as a dangerous fad. Undoubtedly the will of the people must prevail, but the exercise of that will should depend on and be the result of their own deliberate judgment. Whether what is done is a blessing or curse depends not on whether it is the act of an autocrat, of an aristocracy, or of a democracy, but on the character of the act and the spirit which prompts it. A great audience in London recently heard the true position summed up in few words—I quote Dr. Campbell Morgan from memory—"It is said we want to make the world safe for democracy. What we really need is to make democracy safe for the world."

INDUSTRIAL COUNCILS

Under this head it will be convenient to treat not only of the steps to be taken to prevent disputes or secure their settlement by peaceful means, and to promote a more hearty co-operation of employer and employed, but also of various other questions affecting industry, such, for example, as increased production and increased saving. Without industrial peace there will be no industrial or commercial prosperity, and without a fair amount of prosperity it will be very difficult if not impossible to preserve industrial peace. As the War proceeds these questions become more and more urgent; after it, they will be more serious and more pressing than ever. Already the need for taking certain steps at once and for preparing a future policy is recognised. Anyone who wishes to have before him a clear statement of the industrial situation and of the effects of the War upon it, cannot do better than read, and read with care, the revised memorandum prepared under the auspices of the Garton Foundation and published in October, 1916. Singularly impartial and judicious, it does not gloss over the difficulties and perils which must be faced, but throughout there is a note of hopefulness—an anticipation of a better state of things—if while "the forces of change are visibly at work we do not allow them to hurry us blindly with them," but "direct them along the path of ordered progress." Some of the specific remedies suggested, of the proposals adumbrated, may be open to criticism—criticism is, indeed, invited—but it is evident that nothing is suggested that has not been the subject of careful consideration of the facts. Some of the proposals have already been put into fairly definite form in the Whitley Report, and have received the approval of the Government. Industrial Councils are to be established. The object of them will be to consider "constructive measures for the improvement of industrial conditions and the increase of efficiency." They will not be confined to specific points of dispute. They are to be established in industries which are "highly organised," where the employer and employed already possess some definite association or union which represents them respectively. There are to be national, district, and workshop councils set up. Their object differs from that of the Conciliation Boards for Arbitration or the Trade Boards established to settle some specific question such as a minimum wage to be paid, or some question that has given rise to a dispute between employers and employed. Such a mode of settlement is a great advance on leaving differences to be settled by an industrial war—a strike or lock-out. The Boards will still be needed, just as arbitration tribunals will be required to settle specific disputes between nations. The aim in both cases is to substitute arbitration for war (or its equivalent) or threats of war. Something more is aimed at in the establishment of Industrial Councils. They contemplate a "continuous and constructive co-operation of Capital and Management on the one hand and Labour on the other." They are not tribunals for the settlement of disputes which have arisen, but joint committees which can discuss and propose methods of dealing with any question affecting working-conditions generally, e.g., the introduction of new machinery and its effect on employment and the status as well as the wages of the workpeople, and even its economic effect generally. Suggestions can be made as to changes which may "increase output or economise effort" and eliminate waste. The effect of any alterations on the health of those engaged in any industry would be within their purview. The idea is to promote co-operation, to make all recognise certain common interests, not merely to adjust competing claims. In international affairs the nearest analogy would be a League of Nations for promoting the common interest of all. While, of course, the main object of such a league is common action to prevent breaches of the international peace by restraining wrong-doers, it should not be the sole object. In the case of Industrial Councils the object is to promote the general welfare of all engaged in the trade and to increase productive efficiency, as well as to secure fair terms between the parties and prevent disputes. If such a Council has been established for any industry Government Departments will consult it, and not the Trade Board, on any questions affecting that industry; but the constitution of the Council should make provision by which Trade Boards can be consulted. Roughly speaking, "the functions of the Trade Board will be called into operation mainly in the case of the less organised trades, and the highly organised trades will be the sphere of the Industrial Councils." These, in their most developed form, will be national, district, and local.

A memorandum which has official sanction states that the chief duty of the Trade Boards, on the other hand, is to fix minimum rates of wages which can be imposed by law. They are needed primarily to insure that in trades where the workers have no official organisation to guard their interest a living wage shall be secured for all. They are statutory bodies set up under an Act of Parliament just passed, and will be connected with the Ministry of Labour, by which their members are largely nominated. The work of such Boards is being extended.

Detailed discussion of the character of the work which may be expected to be done by the councils and of its probable effects would be beyond the scope of this volume, and would require special knowledge of the industries concerned. It will vary in different industries and in different places. In some, success may be confidently expected, in others there will probably be failures. The aim of the proposal is certainly one to be desired, and the method for attaining it promises many beneficial results. There appear to be some dangers involved which it may be well to consider. Useful work may be hindered owing to, first, the time and attention required for the meetings and discussions of the various councils, and the risk that clever and fluent talkers may prolong debate and generate friction and may perhaps exercise an undue influence. Probably this will not be found a serious danger. Experience over a considerable district shows that those who are chosen by the Trade Unions to represent them are usually clear-headed and businesslike men, who grasp a point quickly and, while carefully guarding the interests of those whom they represent, are fair-minded and ready to do all they can to promote the national interest also. Secondly, there may be a tendency to interfere too much in questions of management, even where full and detailed knowledge of trade conditions of the moment and of possible appliances that may be used is required, and prompt action may be necessary. A man steering a boat in a storm would hardly succeed if he had to consult a committee before moving the helm. The object of the councils would not be to undertake the general management of the business, but should be directed to the relation of workers and management, to secure efficiency and greater production, a fair participation in and distribution of the benefits derived from success, and wholesome conditions for those engaged in the work, and to avoid dispute by agreeing action beforehand wherever possible. Thirdly, in this as in most other cases where power is given to representatives of organised bodies, there is a risk of undue interference with the liberty of those who do not belong to them or who are in a minority. A dead level of uniformity may be secured, experiments and new lines of action by enterprising and original minds may be interfered with. The old problem of reconciling high organisation and corporate action with individual liberty may present itself in an acute form.

Already before the War the tendency to crush out individuality was becoming stronger and stronger, the private firms of manufacturers were being squeezed out by highly organised combines, or tempted by high prices offered to hand over their businesses to them. In banking, similarly, the absorption and amalgamation of smaller banks has been going on with startling rapidity. The personal relationship between the customer and the banker, who would grant loans and overdrafts because he knew the character and position of the borrower in each case, will no longer exist. The business was safe enough when the manager of a country bank probably knew whether a customer's butcher's bills were becoming excessive. Now everything must be referred to London for decision according to some fixed general rule. The convenience and the accommodation of the man with a small account count for very little. A more serious question is the effect which these amalgamations may have on the relations between bankers and those who are engaged in manufacturing business.

The old personal relationship between the mill-owner and his employees, when his garden adjoined the mill yard, when they spoke of him by his Christian name, and he knew their family affairs and was ready to help in time of difficulty and distress and to take a lead in any local effort or support any local charity, has been rapidly disappearing. There still are, however, many employers to whom the happiness and welfare of their workpeople is a matter of deepest concern. They have a human interest in them, and take a pride in improving the conditions of their life. They have other aims than simply securing as big a dividend as possible for the eager shareholders of a huge combine. It is, no doubt, usually large employers of labour who are thus able and willing to make provision for the welfare of the people in their employ. Some have established libraries and reading-rooms, and have provided classes for giving instruction likely to be useful to the boys and young men engaged in their works. Conditions of labour would be greatly improved if the example of the best firms in such matters were generally followed.

The more complete organisation of trades under powerful councils may tend to a virtual monopoly being obtained by a limited number of large and influential firms, and the result may be prejudicial to the consumer by limiting competition. That is not certainly the object, but it may be an incidental effect of the organisation which is needed for full development of the system of councils. In some cases State support and control acting in conjunction with private firms of great influence is to be introduced to unify an industry under one management. Support and control may possibly be necessary in some cases, but the extension of such methods should be jealously watched. In the manufacture of dyes, for example, it seems that the Government and a very powerful manufacturing firm or combination are arranging to act together. Those outside this combination will have no chance of competing. In this particular case the scheme may be useful, but careful provision is necessary to protect customers for the commodities produced. It may become a very serious thing for manufacturers of piece goods when struggling to maintain their position in the world markets, and the slightest addition to cost of production may close a market to them, if they find that they cannot purchase the dyes they require in the cheapest market, or those who dye goods for them must increase their charges, because one organisation can fix prices, and import from abroad is prohibited in order to protect a special home industry.

Possibly it may be necessary for a time to give such protection to certain industries, involving a preliminary expenditure of a large capital; but the fact that the dye industry had gone from England to Germany was, in the opinion of many, due not so much to free and open competition as to the circumstances that (1) the German producers paid more attention to systematic chemical research bearing on the industry, and (2) that our absurd patent law operated to throttle English production. The founder of the successful firm of Levinstein, Limited, Mr. Ivan Levinstein, seeing by his own experience how our patent laws prevented the development of the dye industry in England, devoted years of work to obtain an alteration of these laws, but with only partial success. The Government, after very long delays, attempted to deal with the matter, but it is not yet satisfactorily settled. A Bill on the subject is now before Parliament. A list can be given of more than a dozen cases—there may have been many others—in which the Badische-Anilin Fabrik was plaintiff against firms in this country. The result was to aid the rapid development of the huge works near Mannheim now used to manufacture poisonous gases, while the works in this country were crippled. Strangely enough, it was an English chemist (Sir W. Perkin) who made the discoveries which led to the development of this industry; but it is generally possible where competition is keen to take out subsidiary patents for small improvements which really enable the subsequent patentee to command the market. Sometimes the root invention for some reason cannot be made the subject of a valid patent, or the patent for it expires before its full commercial value has been realised, and the minor improvements give the holder of patents for them a virtual monopoly.

All along the line, too, the big firm is favoured at the expense of the smaller. The position of the small tradesman is often a very hard one. The shopkeeper in a village or small town near the metropolis pays heavy rates for the upkeep of roads which are torn to pieces by the heavy motors of the great distributing firms delivering goods to those who would otherwise be his customers, perhaps with petrol specially exempted from taxation. The firm which by widespread advertisements can induce people to buy an article with some familiar name attached, reaps a gigantic fortune, while the man who makes the same article and cannot spend money on advertisement gains a mere pittance. The advertisements which disfigure the country are not taxed, as in other countries, and the issue of advertising circulars has been subsidised by the Post Office, which delivered them at a rate lower than that charged for delivery of the letters, or even the postcards, of the poorest, though the trouble involved is the same. The patent laws, again, have been exploited to protect the large manufacturer, who fences some form of production by taking out a string of patents often where there is no meritorious invention at all. The rubbishy specifications are flourished in the face of a poor competitor, and form a basis for threats which a man who is not wealthy dare not resist, knowing the heavy cost of fighting any patent action whether successful or not. "To him that hath shall be given" ought not to be a maxim to guide legislators or any department of Government.

To return from this digression. One great advantage of the councils would be that those who represent the workmen upon them will probably be men who are actually engaged in manual work in the trades concerned, or have been so engaged, and who will look at each question practically. The agitator who lives on grievances and disputes, the politician "on the make," or the well-meaning and half-informed enthusiast from outside, is not likely to find a place on councils whose object it is to see how interests which investors, managers, and workmen have in common can best be promoted, and how the share of each in the work and its profits can be more fairly assigned and distributed instead of attention being concentrated on matters in which their interests seem to be in conflict.

Another difficulty of more direct importance with regard to the proposed councils is already arising. The relative powers and position of the shop stewards chosen by the men in each works and of the unions representing industry as a whole in any district have to be settled. There are also overlapping unions competing for influence and support, and sometimes doing so by making excessive demands. The events of the next few months may lead either to an accentuation or to a partial solution of these questions which are perhaps the most serious at present affecting industrial peace. It is better not to anticipate. Prophecy might be falsified too soon and too palpably, and the position, which changes from week to week, is too critical for anyone to discuss unless he has full and exact knowledge of the facts and clear understanding of the way in which undercurrents are setting.

LONG HOURS