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not Socialists, they are only Liberal-Socialists, impairers not abolishers of property, taxers of one class, favourers of one class, or limpets of office and emolument. "Socialism-with-salaries stands on their banner. Votes are their principles. Are their disclaimers of provoking class feuds, or of inclining to "bleed" persons quite as "meritorious" (it is their own English) as the Proletariat, or of annexing all their beneficiaries under rash and ill-digested measures to the bureaucratic machine-are such protests wholly sincere? Do their sweeping professions of studying the greatest good of the greatest number, always exclusive of number one, quite correspond to deeds? Is their generosity offset by justice, and are they capable of that nice sense of proportion-of justesse--which is as indispensable to the art of politics as to all other arts? Even if they can stand these tests, is not party paramount on both sides? and does "party any more signify one broad, simple outlook "understanded of the people "? They naturally want the votes and the passing victory, but by what kind of tenure, through what methods are the profits to be secured? The means of late have not been glorious, and as for the tenure, calculations have recently been upset. They have suddenly found that the dour but worthy Labour-"leaders" whom they counted are more or less helpless to lead those Trade Unions, with which Labour is mis-identified. Till the strikes were on us these "leaders" did not seem to know of the peril, and they themselves trembled for their position. Both Ministers and Labourists were confronted by a phantom less phantasmal than themselves, while sympathy was shattered by the "sympathetic strike." Messieurs Mann, Tillett, and Gosling meant business. The forced uprising of content with discontent was manoeuvred, "Syndicalism" made its bow on this side of the Channel, and Democracy finds itself face to face with a Superdemocracy, for that is what "Syndicalism" means. I have called it a phantom, but in energy it is not one. It is a phantom only in the illusions from which it emanates-illusions encouraged by the wordy incitements of the very Ministers who dread them. They told the "People" to "broaden its purposes," and straightway agitators or anarchs enter the lists for "Syndicalism" and "Solidarity," or, in plain words, for the dispossession not only of property, but of Government. Here, in Gilbert's phrase, was "a pretty how-d'-ye-do." The Government in a panic rushed into force as much for their own defence as the country's. They were right. A power less hollow than a party leaps armed into existence, and the manipulators of the Proletariat have now to deal with its new masters. This is an affair far more formidable than gag, or caucus, or political pretexts, or the mechanism of

majorities. Solidarity could paralyse trade, starve out the community, make short work of the bureaucratic apparatus, and found the supremacy of a single class-a despotism of ignorance itself despotised over. It could prove an absolute and arbitrary sway compared with which any single-chamber government must pale. It could wipe out that stepmother of a "State" which Fabians wish to substitute for a Nation. All this and more "Solidarity" would achieve if the country were overborne, or if international "Solidarity" were possible. It owes no allegiance save to itself. It abhors the "State" as a vague abstraction, and it is incompatible with national life. It is a triple terrorism. Its fealty is based on terror, by terror its instruments are constrained, and the terror of civilisation forms its opportunity. It is a state of war, and the Government, that cannot be absolved of the conditions that empowered it, had to resolve itself into a sort of Committee of Safety. Having blown hot for the Proletariat, it had to blow cold. But "Solidarity," with its triumph of instinct, still smoulders; there are signs that very little may revive the flame. And the worst is that its faith can produce martyrs, which the Government shibboleths can never do. Its half-idealism infuses a misguided religion into its movements; it would reconstitute man, and it cannot away with the paraphernalia of polls. Its subtlest interpreters disclaim any literal purpose, frankly avowing that its outbreaks are only the fuel to fan an eternal discontent, but this unending prospect, this discipline to perpetuate mutiny, strengthen its topsy-turvey idealism. The Government, with its retail "reforms" and transitory transferences, Socialism with its "right to work" and Utopian finalities, will never command Labour. "Solidarity," affirming the right not to work, is a fanaticism rife with exorbitance on exorbitance, and rich in the enthusiasms of revolution. Human nature, with its inherent schisms and unions, will eventually defeat it, but it can show a firm front towards uninspired parasites and pettifogging pedagogues.

As yet it is in an embryo stage, and Liberal-Socialism may be trusted to deal with it, if superficially; in this, at all events, it accords with public opinion. Efforts may be made to recall "Labour" to its salaried nominees in Parliament. Some fresh pact may be patched up with extremists. Perhaps fresh Unions may in some way again be "recognised," or some new and irresponsible Court of Arbitration may infringe on the normal reign of law. The certain remedy, of course, would be to repeal the shameful clause that allows to Unions the "peaceful picketings of persecuting intimidation. But will this Government ever have courage for the step? I trow not. They have chosen the very

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moment between the strikes that are past and those which are impending to promise an unlimited suffrage-a cataclysm. Redoubled violence must surely prove the answer, and even where the violence is quelled fresh concessions will be tendered it afterwards. The Trade Unions, now sectional and Socialist, govern the Government, and the result is a national incubus. At this very hour England is to be asked to empower some fourteen or more millions of votes to decide her destinies. Yet the issues are again being confused by the split about the woman's vote. While the suffragists to their honour disdain an unqualified franchise, the astute levity of Ministers obscures and conceals the crisis.

My contention is that, eventually, in the clash of two tyrannies -the pasteboard one of Government, the granite one of Syndicalism-the proletariat, with the rest of us, will go to the wall. The Labour-"leaders" follow the Government, to which, after all their indignation, they seem once more to be riveted: though they made a wry face they swallowed the Insurance Bill. But the real "Labour "-leaders, the new syndicalists, will not be reconciled even though they may be sopped or stilled for an interval. They perceive clearly that the system of Government is only to supplant the Trade Unions and take over their machinery. They frankly confess appropriation as a goal and themselves as arbiters. What they frankly confess the half-and-halfers compass by degrees, but on the terms that they are to remain paramount. Meanwhile, morsels must be pitched to the lions, and the morsels are wrapped up in ornamental parcels. We are told of fresh "sacrifices" on the part of "capitalists great and small" by the same orator who, on another occasion, recognised that taxpayers had already made a "very handsome contribution." Loose exceptions are still used to substantiate his rules, and his breakdowns in finance or policy will probably entail additional burdens. Even while we are told that poverty must be subsidised afresh, we are treated to the universal payment of Members of the House, so as at one stroke to reverse the Osborne judgment, to steady the allegiance of recruits, and to free Trade Union funds for establishing an organ. I have spoken of "ornamental " parcels, which are usually tied up with silken sentiment. One of the favourite decorations is universality. It is so simple to be universal. It requires so little thought, and Mr. Lloyd George's careless, infatuated optimism proceeds by hops, skips, and jumps. So, when it suits, does the slipshod pessimism which is invoked as warranting new inflictions. All Members should be paid, only how then about the extreme need of the poor? And will not new bodies claim new payments, and the old ones an increased one-and so ad infinitum? The benefits,

again, of the Insurance Bill are universal up to the income-tax limit; only examination shows that servants are practically paying for artisans, while they contribute almost as if they were all ill every day of the year. And the same examination shows that charwomen and gardeners, and, I think, widows, are more or less excluded. These sort of "universal" exhibitions discontent the proletariat, they distress Friendly Societies asked to relinquish their importance, and doctors asked to relinquish fees. The Act has been passed burglariously-by a sort of House-ofCommons-breaking. And the Bill reeks of extravagance. Universality is an expensive process for the public, much as it may please revolutionists in a hurry. The very haste of legislation breeds new grievances with new patchwork to remove them. There will soon be so much "sacrifice" that the victims will be scarce, just as there may soon be more censors than things. The hasty Eight Hours Act was ushered in with a blare of benevolence, but somehow the miners abominate it, and so the proletariat growls again. The Unions profit by the growls, and themselves want to make Unionism, too, universal, and to grasp at employés who detest their despotism. Thus discontent multiplies, and on it these tyrannies thrive. If you are not organised, you will probably suffer at the hands of both of them. Only organisations meet with respect. The doctors and the Friendly Societies, many of the handworkers, all the Unions, and the whole of the Government are organised. The organised consider the organised. But what is roughly called the bourgeoisie, which comprises more than half of the grit and brains and thrift and stability of the nation, are not organised-nay, they are disorganised. Hence the disinclination to widen the field of taxes. The geese are there; pluck them, and never forget Michaelmas.

The Government schemes tend to take away both independence and responsibility. Even under their Insurance Bill the labourer with the rest must be docketed, ticketed, tracked, and supervised; he becomes a Government's man, just as under the modern Trade Union he can show little real will of his own. Initiative is killed, and in both cases the effect on character is bad. The renowned common sense of the nation is weakened. The proletariat is led to rely on outside support and will tend to become, not a human being, but a number. Everything is second-hand. He must take what they give him and do their bidding. Nothing is permissive, all is compulsory. This surely was the moral of the Osborne judgment which the Ministry thought fit to obviate by subsidies: Mr. Osborne is a true hero, for he was the first openly to rebel against the Unions, and now he, too, must be disgusted with the Government. Since

then those Unions have gone "thorough," and the Labour Members are out of gear. There is no end to these impasses when a Government will not govern, and the masters of the school are not serious discountenancers of some of the barrings-out. The proletariat feel that the bourgeoisie will be plucked, but they do not care for the Government's picking of it. Indeed, everything that can be urged against Capital can be objected also to State-Socialism, which would discriminate its payees at its own sweet will and monopolise the remains. This is what the proletariat should perpend-income and capital are convertible terms for the thrifty, and if you were to abolish capital to-morrow it would re-arise in terms of income the day after. The less income, the more unemployment even if, to prevent or overpay employment, the "State" became the sole property-owner at the public charge. We now hear much, again, of the nationalisation of railways, but the "State" assuredly is no soft employer, and how would it guard against strikes? Against loss it would scarcely guard. State-management is proverbial, as the smashed parcels in the Post Office can attest: it would employ supernumeraries, which the wretched taxpayer would once more be required to salary. And who would gain? Not the public that would probably pay more for the less efficient. Not any employé but the least skilled, for added numbers would scarcely increase the higher scale. The sole person who would gain would be the Socialist, who, by the thin-end-of-the-wedge argument, would scent a precedent for fresh industries to be thus monopolised at the general expense.

But our two tyrannies have not yet begun to quarrel over the spoil: let us devoutly hope that someone or something will intervene to prevent them or that our present rulers will change their tack. At present they care little for the morrow, in that sense alone resembling the lilies of the field. But if ever anarchy and autocracy come to blows, if "peaceful picketing" be still allowed as a blunderbuss to be levelled-much as the proletariat deplores it-at the heads of any Government, then good-bye to much more and better than the aerated refreshments and thumbscrew methods of the newest Liberalism. In that event our sole refuge perhaps would lie in deliverance by a single dictator. We should have suffered enough from groups.

Real employment is the want. What is most needed is a broadening of the basis of taxation and a widening of the field of labour. The one would assist the other, and if some modified form of tariff were introduced it would help to relieve the community. Even now, with the fetish of Free Trade idolised, there are many varieties of profitable taxation that would not lessen