Outspoken Essays | Page 9

is most indefensible and most disastrous.
It would be easy to maintain that the organic idea was more potent,
both under medieval feudalism and under nineteenth-century
industrialism, than it is now. In former days, economic and social
equality were not even aimed at, because it was thought inevitable that
in a social organism there must be subordination and a hierarchy of
functions. Essentially, and in the sight of God, all are equal, or, rather,
the essential differences between man and man are absolutely
independent of social status. In a few years Lazarus may be in heaven
and Dives in hell. Beside this equality of moral opportunity and
tremendous inequality in self-chosen destiny, the status of master and
servant seemed of small importance; it was a temporary and trivial
accident. Accordingly, in feudal times, as to-day in really Catholic
communities, feelings of injustice and social bitterness were seldom
aroused and class differences take on a more genial colour. In spite of
the lawlessness and brutality of the Middle Ages it is probable that men
were happier then than they are now.
The French Revolution, which was a disintegrating solvent, pulverised
society, and was impotent to reconstruct it. Yet under the industrial
régime which followed it in this country, the nation was conscious of
its unity. The system was the best that could have been devised for
increasing the population and aggregate wealth of the country; and
even those who suffered most under it were not without pride in its
results. The ill-paid workman of the last century would have thought it
a poor thing to do a deliberately bad day's work.

I am not praising either the age of feudalism or the 'hungry forties' of
the nineteenth century. In the latter case especially the sacrifice exacted
from the poor was too great for the rather vulgar success of which it
was the condition. But to call that age the period of individualism, and
our own generation the period of socialism, is in my opinion a
profound mistake. In Germany, too, the real socialists are not the
'Spartacist' scoundrels who have betrayed and ruined their country, but
the bureaucracy with their Deutschland über Alles. If I were a little
more of a socialist, I could almost admire them, in spite of all their
crimes.
The landed gentry (and in honesty I must add the endowed clergy) are a
survival of feudalism, as the capitalist is a survival of industrialism.
Both have to a large extent survived their functions. The mailclad baron,
round whose fortified castle the peasants and others gathered for
protection, has become the country gentleman, against whom the
indictment is not so much that his only pursuit is pleasure, as that his
only pleasure is pursuit. 'The rich man in his castle, the poor man at his
gate' were intelligible while the rich man protected the poor man from
being plundered and killed by marauders; but in our times nobody
wants a castle or to live under the shadow of a castle. The clerical
profession was a necessity when most people could neither read nor
write. But to-day our best prophets and preachers are laymen. As at
ancient Athens, in the time of Aristophanes, 'the young learn from the
schoolmaster, the mature from the poets.' Similarly, the captain of
industry cannot hold the same autocratic position as formerly, in view
of the growing intelligence and capacity of the workmen; and the
capitalist who is not a captain of industry is a debtor to the community
to an extent which he does not always realise. This class is becoming
painfully conscious of its vulnerability.
There are, therefore, irrational survivals in our social order; and though
it may be proved that they are not a severe burden on the community, it
is natural that popular bitterness and discontent should fasten upon
them and exaggerate their evil results. It cannot be disputed that this
bitterness and discontent were becoming very acute in the years before
the war. An increasing number of persons saw no meaning and no

value in our civilisation. This feeling was common in all classes,
including the so-called leisured class; and was so strong that many
welcomed with joy the clear call to a plain duty, though it was the duty
of facing all the horrors of war. What is the cause of this discontent?
There are few more important questions for us to answer.
Those who find the cause in the existence of the survivals which we
have mentioned are certainly mistaken. It is no new thing that there
should be a small class more or less parasitic on the community. The
whole number of persons who pay income-tax on £5000 a year and
upwards is only 13,000 out of 46 millions, and their wealth, if it could
be divided up,