THE MUTINY AT VELLORE, JULY 1806-F. W. BLUNT 47 63 79 CONTENTS FOR LAST MONTH (AUGUST) RECOLLECTIONS OF A BOARD SCHOOL TEACHER AFTER CAPITALISM-ERNEST E. WILLIAMS THE COMING OF THE TURBINE-HUGH W. STRONG THE AGE OF PRETENCE-BASIL TOZER A MOORLAND SANCTUARY-ALFRED W. REES CHARLES JAMES FOX-LEWIS MELVILLE THE POETRY OF NORA CHESSON-S. GERTRUDE FORD THE FOLK-LORE OF PARIS-ROBERT B. DOUGLAS "THE CONVENT'S NARROW ROOM"-KATHARINE TYNAN HOMERIC KNOWLEDGE OF THE HIGH NORTH-KARL BLIND ON THE LINE THE LONELY LADY OF GROSVENOR SQUARE (CHAPTERS VII-VIII)— MRS. HENRY DE LA PASTURE The Editor of the MONTHLY REVIEW is always happy to receive MSS., and to give them his consideration, provided that they are type-written or easily legible, and accompanied by a stamped envelope for their return if not accepted. In the case of all unsolicited contributions the Editor requests his correspondents (i) to excuse him from replying otherwise than by formal printed letter; (ii) to state whether he is offered the refusal of the MS. indefinitely or only for a limited period. Where the offer is indefinite, the Editor cannot be answerable for time or opportunities lost through his adverse decision after long consideration; nor can he in any case be responsible for the loss of a MS. submitted to him, although every care will be taken of those sent. They should be addressed to the EDITOR, "Monthly Review," 50A Albemarle Street, London, W. ENGLAND, FRANCE, AND T THE SOCIALISM HE Englishman who had been abroad since last year finds on returning that the British middle classes have "discovered" Socialism since the last General Election. The Frenchman returning to his country after a rather longer absence would find that the bourgeoisie in the interval has been "discovering" Individualism. This no doubt is as it always is, and perhaps as it should be. The two peoples have often been called complementary of one another. In many ways they develop along reverse lines, and whither one is travelling thence the other hastens, both persuaded that they are on the road of progress, rightly, perhaps, as there is more than one road. When both halt, turn round, and look at each other, criticism on both sides is commonly and very naturally of the old mote-and-beam sort. Admirable advice is given to the British people by French critics, and every one knows how generously British opinion champions some French causes. Counsel and enthusiasm might often be just as useful at home, but at home "one sees things differently." The intelligent and informed foreigner can be a wonderfully acute judge; he may also be an illuminating encomiast. While he surprises us by finding fault with our pet foibles, he may delight by praising everyday virtues by which we set no store; he even reveals gold in our vices. Many Frenchmen admire John Bull precisely for that which in him annoys his critical sons, No. 72. XXIV. 3.-SEPT. 1906 B and English observers are constantly celebrating French characteristics which critical France is trying to get rid of. The variety of such international views is invaluable; they may be often crooked, and no one could expect them to be always straight, but they are rarely dull. England is not more surprised to find France discovering Individualism than is France to find England discovering Socialism. In fact, the two countries agreeably surprise each other. The rights of the individual are as old as the hills here and a burning topic there; here the theory of Socialism is still a subject to talk about, there it is worn threadbare; here an agrarian question exists, there a question exists how long district civil servants directly and solely answerable to the Home Office are to continue lawfully to wield judicial powers which are a negation of habeas corpus. On the subject of Socialism, the Englishman in the street has latterly learnt a cheerful glibness, though a boy of twenty can easily remember when a Socialist with a vermilion tie was a lunatic, harmless if British to the backbone, dangerous if tainted with foreign ideas. Who fears to speak Socialism or meet Socialists now? Of course, these, ipso facto, have ceased to belong to the smart set, but the man in the street is now familiar with them. Any one can hear him reasoning gently with them on the tops of motor 'buses, or hear them holding forth with all the freshness of neophytes. Nationalisation of the soil, the unearned increment of capital, natural wealth versus artificial wealth, and so on, are all "in the air"—in the street air. They have even penetrated into the City man's suburban home, where ten years ago you might as well have put a bomb on the hearthrug as have thrown out some suggestions that labour alone produces wealth, or even some milder one than that. The thinking young generation is still jumping at the theory of Socialism with an eagerness which seems very fresh to any one who has lived latterly abroad. One finds the subject still perfectly alive and wild in literary sets, the equivalents of which on the Continent have long since either killed and buried it, or stuffed and preserved it, or caged and tamed it. Of course, England has been in many ways, like M. Jourdain speaking prose, creating Socialism all the time without knowing it: a part of England has been creating it, perhaps more practically than other countries, and the rest of England did not know, or pretended not to know. Any Englishman among his acquaintance in the sturdy middle classes can point to a score of the sturdiest pillars on whom the last General Election brought down a bolt from the blue, bringing down Socialism from the region of mad dreams to reality, wrong or right, but still a reality henceforth to be reckoned with. There has been no such recent discovery in France. The Frenchman in the street, as a rule, long since either has walked in step with the army of Socialism or has tired of the crusade altogether, and smiles happily, or wearily jeers, when the host goes marching by him. The prosperous bourgeoisie either refuses to think of the cause otherwise than as of that of dangerous fanatics whose faith has long ago been proved absurd, and refuses to consider their arguments at all, or else has called and proclaimed itself Socialist these ten years, usually for politic reasons. The "aristocracy of the intellect" has for twenty years past turned the subject over and over unto weariness and scepticism. The old "Ivory Tower" of the poet, seer, mystic, and egoist has crumbled, and left its denizens standing open to the modern world. But the old castle in the air of the altruist, reformer, and regenerator has large rents in its vaporous sides too. Either a great scepticism or a great mellowness has come over the jeunesse pensante, which looks all round Socialism and other things. The jeunes "are all Socialists now," of course, but none are "unified " Socialists of the Parliamentary party. Socialism may have gained by losing good intellectual haters, but also has lost fervent intellectual enthusiasms. Enthusiasm, in fact, goes more to individualism. The "cult of the ego" has died, but not the cultivation of person |