consistent with his theory before explained, that man is engaged in a struggle with Nature and is not doomed to compliance with it.

The foregoing considerations suffice to indicate generally the character of the problem presented by socialism, the necessity of handling it, and the mistake that underlies the theory of individualism, which would fain waive it to one side as unworthy of any consideration whatever.

If the reader will imagine himself for one moment the autocrat of the United States, he will not hesitate to recognise the imperative duty that would be incumbent upon him to study and come to a definite conclusion upon labour questions which touch so nearly the lives of a large majority of his subjects. His throne, his life itself, would depend upon the wisdom of its solution. Now the task which he would undertake in order to save his throne and person, popular government imposes upon every voter in order to save his political freedom and keep whole the civilisation in which he lives. There is to-day among the well-to-do a growing concern in the municipal problem; but the problem of socialism is still left unconsidered, partly because it is not seen to concern them, and partly because it is believed to have been disposed of by the sweeping generalisations of individualism and laissez-faire.

As a matter of fact, socialism presents two very different aspects from different points of view: one is theoretical, the other practical. Theoretically

socialism represents the war between the collectivist and the individualist; practically it presents a series of demands for state interference. As regards its theoretical side, it is not because socialism indulges in hopes of a millennium that it is necessarily foolish or extreme. The heaven of Christianity is not less unattainable than the ultimate hopes of the socialist; and yet Christianity serves its purpose in the world. To a practical student the problem presented by socialism is one of state interference. Now it has been shown that the advisableness of state interference is a question which can only be decided for every issue that invokes it; that the state interference demanded by socialists is not revolutionary; that it is, perhaps, to some extent immediately practicable. Surely, if this be so it deserves to be considered by us without prejudice or passion, if we would save the state from the explosiveness of popular excitement too long pent up.

Once the people get to believe that their wrongs spring from evils that can be cured by the state, and once they begin to organise with a view to political action, we can no longer oppose to them the opinions of the doctrinaire. This conviction of the people is a fact with which we have to deal; and the way to deal with it is not to smile at it with derision, but to study it with conscience and care, yielding all we wisely can, and, by conceding to just demands, strengthen ourselves to meet those demands that are foolish or unjust.

Now this task is one of education.

CHAPTER XII.

THE PROBLEM OF EDUCATION.

No one can travel throughout the West without being profoundly impressed by the fact that in every village, though its stores, hotels, national banks, and town hall itself, are relegated to structures of wood, there is one conspicuous building of substantial brick, and this building is the schoolhouse. There is no doubt but that the country we live in is, relatively to its space and population, as well provided with schools for primary education as any country in the world. Every city has, of course, its local problem of education to solve. One is vexed by the religious question; another is hampered by insufficient appropriations; a third, by appointment made for political service instead of educational qualifications; a fourth, by a system of administration that is needlessly complicated. New York would not live up to its primacy in misgovernment if it lacked any one of these four. But into the abuses and evils that arise from these sources it is not proposed to enter; for this work is not so much engaged in the study of political abuses themselves as in the relation of these

abuses to the citizen; in the source and reason of them; and particularly in the rôle that religious effort can play in diminishing them. The defects in the municipal administration of our charities have been studied in some detail because it is in our charities that religious men are particularly interested, because private charity can never do more than merely supplement state charity, and in state charity, therefore, must always remain the lion's share of the work; and, lastly, because the deficiencies in the working of this department in New York illustrate the impossibility of securing good administration of a good law so long as the administration is confided to a corrupt political machine. The examination of the other departments of municipal government would only reveal still more startling abuses, all tending towards the same conclusion. It would be waste of time for the purposes of this work to enumerate them.

But there is a wider view of the question of education which demands the serious consideration of every earnest citizen. No one will dispute the contention that a knowledge of reading, writing, and arithmetic, such as is given in primary schools, is not sufficient to equip a man for the solution of the political and economical problems which on every election day he is called upon to solve; and yet we have to confront the undoubted fact that the large majority of our citizens are expected to solve these problems without any more equipment than this, and are armed with a vote which puts every one of

them on every election day on a par with the most distinguished authority on political economy in the country. The fact is, that the primary education, which is all that the majority of our fellow-citizens enjoy, does no more than fit them for reading the newspapers; and that the great educator in the country is not the primary school, is not the board of education, is not the Church-it is the press. Indeed, one may go further, and say that the press is the great instrument of education not only for our uneducated but for our educated classes; for it is from the newspaper alone that the busy man derives his knowledge of the events of the day, and it is practically impossible for him to get information from any other source. It therefore becomes of extraordinary importance to consider carefully just what is the education which our fellow-citizens are receiving therefrom.

It is the fashion to abuse the newspapers. One of them, which is the recognised organ in New York of Tammany Hall, is described as making vice attractive; another, which ranks amongst the first for holding up a high standard in politics, is described as making virtue repulsive; so that whether the tendency of a newspaper is to degrade or to improve the community, both come in for universal censure. As a matter of fact, the press of New York, with the single exception already referred to, has for years been unanimously hostile to Tammany Hall. Colums have been devoted every day to the revelation of abuses in Tammany Hall and to appeals to the