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'TBT

A work deal
point of vie
of the Superii
•peakinj Pcc

("A quoi

TRJ

THE MV
17 RICH]

Tns3lated<''oat]uTesthFnicb Edition. ^^

A work dealing from a French
point of view with the causes
of the Superiority of the Knglish<
•peaking Peoples.

Anglo-Saxon

Superiority:^

to what it is due.

(

("A quoi tient la Superiorite des Anglo-Saxons.")

EDMOND DEMOLINS.

TRANSLATED BY LOUIS BERT. LAVIGN]

-v.^ : .-1, . /^ .^

THE MUSSON BOOK CX)MPANY : : i < \
17 RICHMOND STREET, WEST ; TOitONTO

1899 ,*

V.,.. . y ■. '• .*.j

^ r

Author's In'
Author's Pb
Author's Pr]

THE I

C2^

/ S 9 9

OUAPTBR

I. Does ts

II.

Dobs te

III.

Does te

IV.

How AR

THE PB

Our Mo

IN Fr

II.

Our Moi

SlTUAl

ITT.

How Ai

FOR T

Chara

rv.

How his

Anglo

CONTENTS.

Author's Introduction to the English Edition
Author's Preface to the French Edition
Author's Preface to the Second French Edition

PAOK
V

ziz
xxii

BOOK I.

THE FRENCHMAN AND THE ANGLO-SAXON

AT SCHOOL.

OHAPTBR

I. Does the French School System form Men ? ..

II. Does the German School System form Men?

lU. Does the English School System form Men ?

IV. How are we to bring up our Children? ...

1
11
88
68

BOOK 11.

THE FRENCHMAN AND THE ANGLO-SAXON IN

PRIVATE LIFE.

I. Our Mode of Education reduces the Birth-Rate

IN J; RANCE ... ,.. ... ... ... ... o4

II. Our Mode of Education compromises the FiNANciiL

Situation of France 100

III. How Anglo-Saxon Education prepares Children

FOR THE Struggle for Existence. Types and
Characters Ill

IV. How HIS Mode of Home-Lifb contributes to the

Anglo-Saxon's Success 185

Contents.

BOOK III.

THE FRENCHMAN AND THE ANGLO-SAXON IN

PUBLIC LIFE.

CHAPTER PAOK

I. The Political Personnel m France and in Enq-

liAJ^D ••• tat ••• ••• ••• ••• •■• XO«o

11. Why the Anglo-Saxons are more hostile to So-
cialism THAN the Germans and the French . . . 188

in. The Frenchman and the Anglo-Saxon conceive a

Different Idea of the Fatherland 220

rV. The Frenchman's and the Anglo-Saxon's respec-
tive notions of Solidarity are Different ... 241

v. What Social State is most conducive to Happiness ? 258
vi. insufficieli cy of moral action and symptoms of

Social Regeneration 281

French PuBLisimRs' Appendix 807

AUT

ITRUSl
meanii
as applyin
of Great B

In this ^
analysis d(
Tourville,
sider the p
glo- Saxon i
for Englan
and superi
distinction
institutions

The Celt
Ireland, in
of Australi
tendency is
tions peculi

Owing to
agricultural
suits of ag
liberal proJ
achieve moi

Owing tc
more taste f

AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION TO THE
ENGLISH EDITION.

THE THREE ELEMENTS OF ENGLISH SOCIETY.

I TRUST the English public will not misunderstand the
meaning and import of this book, nor take my opinions
as applying to all the inhabitants and all the institutions
of Great Britain.

In this work, by the application of the methods of social
analysis devised by F. Le Play and completed by H. de
Tourville, I seek to carefully isolate and exclusively con-
sider the phenomena which appear to be derived from An-
glo-Saxon influence, because these phenomena alone ensure
for England and the United States their social original) <'y
and superiority. AbDve all, I endeavour to make a clear
distinction between these phenomena and the customs and
institutions peculiar to the Celts and Normans.

The Celtic element, which predominates especially in
Ireland, in the Scotch Highlands, in Wales, in the towns
of Australia, in New Zealand, etc., contributes — and its
tendency is to maintain — in a certain measure, the tradi-
tions peculiar to that social type.

Owing to their original mode of life, more pastoral than
agricultural, the Celts have no liking for the absorbing pur-
suits of agriculture; they have more inclination for the
liberal professions than for the commoner callings, and
achieve more success in the former.

Owing to their traditional clan organization, they show
more taste for public than for private life, for political than

Author's Introduction to

for agricultural, industrial, or commercial struggles. In
the Anglo-Saxon world, the Celtic populations mostly fill
the ranks of the lower proletariat, or higher in the social
scale — the liberal and political professions.

The Celtic race belongs to the " Communistic Clan forma-
tion," which never attains social superiority: pure Celts
ever were vanquished socially, and always will be, as long
as they are not transformed by contact with a superior
race.

The Norman element, more mixed and diluted in the
social body, has yet left in England profound traces, which
rigorous analysis could determine exactly. From this ele-
ment (now expropriated to a large extent from the soil) has
arisen, as part of its results, the enormous domains, and
from it have also arisen the law of primogeniture, the
hereditary nobility, and House of Lords. Norman tradi-
tion appears to me to be found again in the organization of
the English Universities and the spirit of caste which ani-
mates them (the American Universities seem free from this
influence). Moreover, the spirit of snobbery is another
result of Norman influence.

Whilst the Celtic element weakens especially the lower
classes, by dragging them into labouring pauperism, the
Norman element weakens especially the upper classes by
promoting Lordolatry, Patronage, and Snobbery.

Even as the Celts belong to the " Communistic Clan forma-
tion," so did the Normans belong to the "Communistic
State formation."

In accordance with the qualities inherent in their origin,
the Normans undertook to establish in England that type
of great centralized and authoritative State which Spain
was to know with Philip II., France with Louis XIV. and
Napoleon, and Germany with Wilhelm. We all know that
those vast political machines^ smothering as they do all

the English Edition,

individual initiative, never produced other than an appar-
ent, factitious, and ephemeral prosperity ; they are but the
royal road to decadence.

It is precisely among these two elements — Celtic and
Norman — that the socialistic doctrines have found any echo
in the Anglo-Saxon world.*

Socialism indeed is but a manifestation of the Commu-
nistic formation which leads men to seek redress of social
evils by the help of the group, the community, rather than
by the activity of the individual.

If the Governments of Australia and New Zealand have
attempted to mingle socialistic institutions with reforms
that have nothing social about them but their outward
appearance, that is because the Scotch or Irish element
abounds among their politicians, owing to the tendency
which I have shown to exist in men of the Celtic race, and
which is thus verified. But these socialistic experiments
will be brought to an end for the simple reason that they
are signally unsuccessful, whereas private Anglo-Saxon en-
terprise obtains increasing success. It is but a matter of
time.

Indeed, that r.hich uirtinguishes England and sets her
apart from Continental nations, and decidedly accounts for
her social superiority at the present time, is the fact that
she has gradually succeeded in freeing herself from the
Celiic and Norman influences. She has been able to ac-

* As M. Metin ascertained, the leaders of English Socialism **are,
according to their own confessions, guided by the love of the Beau-
tiful, and also by some impulse inherited from Celtic ancestors. In-
deed, nearly all of them boast Irish, Scotch, or Welsh origins, and
declare that they owe it to their Celtic forbears to be keener-witted
and more free-minded than their Anglo-Saxon rivals. . . . The
idea of Land Nationalisation was brought to England by Irish agi-
tators returned from America. *'— *' Le Socialisme en Angleterre, "
by Albert M§tin, p. 84o

• • •

VIU

Author's Introduction to

complish this enfranchisement thanks to the preponderance
which the Anglo-Saxon element has gradually assumed over
the other two — a preponderance whose progress no human
force can now stop.

It is precisely and solely this Anglo-Saxon dement which
I have in view; this will explain the title of this book, and
should be kept in mind.

The Anglo-Saxon no longer belongs to the Communistic
formation, but to the Particularistic formation, thus named
because instead of causing the community to predominate
over the individual, the individual is made to prevail over
the community, private life over public life, and in conse-
quence the useful professions over the liberal and adminis-
trative professions.

Such is indeed the real foundation of Anglo-Saxon supe-
riority.

The whole of the history of England is affected and
explained by the slow but constant evolution of the Saxon
through the dense Celtic and Norman shell.

I will only sketch out the principal scenes in this great
stirring drama, and for the details of demonstration refer
the public to the Essays which M. de Tourville is shortly
to publish in La Science Sociale on the subject of the " His-
tory of the Particularistic Formation" [Histoire de la forma-
tion jyctrticulariste) ; he is the first exponent of the curious
evolution of this group of populations, and it will be seen
that he has done the work in a masterly and definitive
style.

First Scene. — Predominance of the Saxons over the Celts.

The Saxons settle in Great Britain in the fifth century,
principally south of the Thames, where they spread their
own name : Wessex, Sussex, Esse^. They drive away from
these parts the British Celts, whom a half -pastoral life at-

tached but

dreamer tl

defeat, whi

of King Ai

The Sax(

the geogra]

settles firm]

till, and fix

is the found

is perfectly

cal chiefs.

army any bi

interest to i

worth fighti

chiefs is pui

first and dist

an embryo I

mot), and i

where every

Such a so(

tocracy of bi

of independe

other — contrj

The admir

of the public

neighbouring

essentially S{

All this is

Prankish chi(

tion with the

ms.

lir
m

,t-

thc English Edition.

taohed but imperfectly to the soil. The Celt — more of a
dreamer than a worker — consoles himself by singing his
defeat, which he deems glorious. Suoh J3 .ne epic legend
of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.

The Saxon, unlike the Celt, is a born farmer, thanks to
the geographical conditions of his previous abode. He
settles firmly on the soU, which he proceeds to clear and
till, and fixes his dwelling in the midst thereof, llis ideal
is the foundation of a rural estate on which the individual
is perfectly independent of his neighbours and of the politi-
cal chiefs. Alfred the Great himself cannot enrol in his
army any but the Saxons who are willing, and who have an
interest to serve, or who consider that the cause of war is
worth fighting for. Besides, the authority of the Saxon
chiefs is purely temporary and elective. Here we have the
first and distant manifestation of self-government, and even
an embryo Parliament in the reunions of the people (Folk-
mot), and gatherings of the wise men (Witenagemot),
where every one had a right to be present.

Such a society presents no military aristocracy, no aris-
tocracy of birth ; but only land-owners, all equal in rights,
of independent estates, none of which is subordinate to the
other — contrarily to the feudal practice.

The administration of the law, also, is quite independent
of the public powers : it is organized spontaneously between
neighbouring land-owners. This is the beginning of the
essentially Saxon institution of the jury.

All this is very different from the system which the
Frankish chiefs established on the Continent in collabora-
tion with the G allo-Romans.

Author's Introduction to

Second Scene. — Predominance of the Savons over the

Angles.

In the sixth century the Angles started from the eastern
slope of Schleswig and landed in Northern Britain. They
drove away the Britons in different directions and founded
the large kingdom of Northumbria. They afterwards
spread southwards as far as the Thames and formed another
large state, Mercia.

Although they were better husbandmen than the Celts,
the Angles were inferior to the Saxons in this respect.
While the latter only invaded small territories, that is,
only as much as they could well cultivate, the Angles
spread over large areas, because they were more anxious to
extend their dominion than to exercise agriculture.

This was one of the first causes of weakness. There was
another : an hereditary nobility — Jarls, Ethels, and Ethel-
ings. Social science explains nowadays this difEerence
between the Angles and Saxons ; I only note it down.

Sound these nobles flocked a numerous suite of compan-
ions, comites and milites, a kind of patriarchal clan. This
clan was a means of strength, but also a cause of weakness
for the chiefs, as, in order to maintain obedience, they were
compelled to extend unceasingly their conquests and do-
minion.

Finally, another cause of weakness was that implied by
the vast area covered by the estates which this hereditary
nobility was obliged to possess in order to maintain its ad-
herents. So these men did not attach themselves to the
soil, did not firmly establish their race in it in the fashion
of the Saxon husbandman. The land was only valued in
so far as it served to reward personal services and to keep
their retainers in idleness. .^

There li(

umbria: th

We knoT

the domina

the Angles

officials upc

developmen

in private 1

ministering

the Romanf

Their ideal

Thus wei

States of E]

the model o

call himself

And yet he

However,

sway upon M.

social influe:

vate life an

work and c(

large tracts (

occupying t

Angles, as i

S;ates are gr

language anc

Continental ]

The above

word "Anglo

'•*:;x-p-*-\.

the English Edition.

There lies the explanation of the rapid decline of North-
umbria : this kingdom lasted barely a century and a half.

We know how, under Egbert, the Heptarchy feU under
the domination of the Saxons. But the latter did not give
the Angles a Saxon government, nor did they foist Saxon
officials upon them, for the good reason that their political
development was most limited, their strength lying more
in private than in public life. They never dreamt of ad-
ministering conquered peoples in the fashion adopted by
the Romans, and later by the Spaniards and the French.
Their ideal was rather — and has remained — a Federation.

Thus were started by the Saxons those former United
States of England. So little did they aim at constituting
the model of a large empire, that their king continued to
call himself simply " King of the Saxons of the West."
And yet he was sovereign of the whole island.

However, if the Saxons did not impose their political
sway upon the Angles, they exercised over them a profound
social influence, by the very fact of the superiority of pri-
vate life among them, and by their greater capacity for
work and colonization. They gradually spread over the
large tracts of land which the Angles had annexed without
occupying them. They thus thoroughly Saxonized the
Angles, as in our days their descendants in the United
S :ates are gradually assimilating and bringing to their own
language and social organization the immigrants from old
Continental Europe. The present explains the past.

The above process and its results are expressed by the
word "Anglo-Saxon."

Xll

Author's Introduction to

Third Scene. — Predominance of the Saxons over the Danes,

The Saxons were not left long in peace : about 867 the
first batch of Danes appeared on the scene. They occupied
the territory of the Angles as far south as the Thames, and
the Saxons kept then, there for seven years.

It is not my task to explain the social genesis of these
Danes. M. de Tourville shall do this in La Science So-
dale. Let it be stated only that they were, above all, pirates,
Vikings, little prepared or disposed to fix themselves firmly
on the soil by agriculture. They organized a system of
military occupation, and were content with assuring their
subsistence by raising regular and arbitrary levies.

The Saxons were obliged to submit, like the rest of Eng-
land, to the Danish armies, because no peasants can well
resist warriors with the might of arms. But at any rate
they did not do as the Britons had done, and never let go
their hold of the land — which they held firmly indeed by
the means of agriculture.

Thus they were able to await a favourable opportunity.
It presented itself under Alfred. Then did the Saxons
take the offensive ; they first liberated their own territory,
and then that of the Angles. The Danish pirates were
turned out of England. Once more the Saxon race tri-
umphed throughout the island. So great is the superiority
which his hold of the land invariably gives the husbandman
over the warrior's military or political domination.

But the Saxons were not at the end of their troubles.
Fifty years later, in 994, another Danish host arrived.
These were not mere pirates ; they were better organized
politically ; they were the Regular Danes, whose origin and
formation M. de Tourville will explain.

Thebo Danes, however, had no other social idea than to

constitute i
regularly at
ones, somcT
the Christia
This was
no real posse
no implanta
As practic
Saxons immi
They offered
they would
well-known
to fight unle
Since they w
pay. Moreo
cal power.

They went
favourable o]
it was so un£
tails of the e^
that the Sax
named Hown<
wards and tu
took to the se
numbers." *
patriotic expl
known as the
actly the chari
was bound to
that their adve
hold the soil 1
thing.

*Augustin TJb
tome 1, p. 163.

the English Edition.

Xlll

Is.

constitute themselves into a governing class and to live
regularly at the expense and by the work of the conquered
ones, somewhat in the fashion adopted by the Turks with
the Christian populations.

This was therefore another political conquest in which
no real possession of the land was taken, in which there was
no implantation of the race into the soil.

As practical business men, which they already were, the
Saxons immediately formed a simple treaty with the Danes.
They offered to pay as a tribute the sum of money which
they would have spent had they waged war : that is the
well-known Danegelt tax. Quite a Saxon process: never
to fight unless there is something well worth fighting for.
Since they were in possession of the land, they preferred to
pay. Moreover, the Saxon does not care to exercise politi-
cal power.

They went on cultivating their estates, awaiting another
favourable opportunity. It came so naturally, so fatally,
it was so unavoidable, that history is silent as to the de-
tails of the event, and only records the issue. It is stated
that the Saxons gathered round an obscure personage,
named Howne, and rose in arms. " Speedily driven north-
wards and turned out from town after town, the Danes
took to the sea and reached their native land in diminished
numbers." * And the historian adds : " Unfortunately the
patriotic exploits of this Saxon army are nowadays as un-
known as the name of its leader is obscure." This was ex-
actly the character of obscurity which a revolt of peasants
was bound to assume. Their rapid success clearly shows
that their adversaries had no real hold of the country. To
hold the soil by the means of agriculture, that is every-
thing.

*AugU8tin Thierry, "Hiatoire de la Conqu6te de rAngleterre,"
tome 1, p. 163.

V: i

XIV

Author's Introduction to

Once more England remained to the Saxons, from North
to South. Those small peasants had been doing good work.

And what did they proceed to do when they found them-
selves masters of the situation?

They immediately and solemnly reasserted their favourite
form of self-government, and defined it by drawing up the
Saxon customs in all their purity: this was the famous
Common Law. It affirmed the narrow limitation of the
public powers by ensuring individual liberty and by the
institution of the jury.

But the Saxons had not done yet with adversity : another
squall was rising on the horizon. The Kormans were com-
ing!

TouRTH Scene. — Predominance of the Saxons over the

Normans,

The Normans were but improved Danes ; they had been
perfected by the feudal regime, whose military hiera.rchy
they had adopted in Normandy.

They took advantage of the Dane's departure to invade
England with William the Conqueror.

After a short resistance, the Saxons accepted the Norman
monarchy, as they had accepted the Danish monarchy,
asking but to be left to work in peace, ^hey therefore
went on acting as practical men of lousiness. They were
ever willing to renounce the exercise of power, provided
they were guaranteed what ^they considered the greatest
boon obtainable — independence in private life; provided,
also, they had assurance of the public peace.

Thus in our own time, in the United States, the Anglo-
Saxon is disposed to leave to the Irish and Germans the
political offices and civic functions; ♦ they themselves pre-
fer the commoner callings.
* It is known that in New York the famous Tammany Hall is

Unfortui
independen
recruited b
them disrej
sufficiently
have fiefs gi
but to explc
with what (
pro^oerty in
generally lef
tithes.

Then begj
which lasted
tain complete
resources, the
their private
The Saxon
of bequeathin
control; (2) j
*o pay; (3) t
they were ma
amongst them
(5) that they
towards any o
ferred any con
Far from i
aimed to esta
whose powerfi
land — Norman
This nobilit
France. In F]
in England, th

mostly in Irish hi
all Irish or Scotcl

the English Edition.

Unfortunately, the Normans did not long respect the
independence of the Saxons. The bands of adventurers
recruited by William in different parts of France, most of
them disreputable men (the composition of this arm] is
sufficiently known to-day), had but one end in view: to
have fiefs granted them, not in order to cultivate the land,
but to exploit the populations. Domesday Book tells us
with what care they surveyed and registered all landed
property in England, shared it amongst themselves, an<f
generally left the Saxons on the soil to pay them taxes and
tithes.

Then began, between Normans and Saxons, a struggle
which lasted several centuries ; the former striving to ob-
tain complete domination and a thorough command of Saxon
resources, the latter endeavouring to secure independence in
their private lives.

The Saxons claimed fiive fundamental rights: (1) that
of bequeathing their property to their descendants without
control ; (2) to be taxed within the limit of their ability
to pay; (3) to receive payment for any compulsory work
they were made to do ; (4) to be left to transact business
amongst themselves according to their old Saxon customs ;
(6) that they should be left the exercise of justice even
towards any of their fellows against whom a Norman pre-
ferred any complaint.

Far from recognizing these rights, the Norman kings
aimed to establish in England an autocratic monarchy
whose powerful authority should be obeyed by all in the
land — Norman nobles as well as Saxon peasants.

This nobility was indeed very different from that of
France. In France, the king had come out of the nobility ;
in England, the nobility had been made by the king. A

mostly in Irish hands. In Australia the political leadera are nearly
all Irish or Scotchmen.

! i

XVI

Author's Introduction to

French seigneur asked the founder of the Capetian Dynasty,
" Who made you king?" whereas the king of England
could well have asked one of his lords, " Who made an earl
of you?" The latter — an upstart ennobled yesterday —
could have found no answer.

At this period of history, England seemed therefore con-
demned, before Spain and before France, to a regime a la
Philip II., a la Louis XIV.

Once more England was saved by the Saxon farmer
standing immovable over his furrows, and determined to
preserve his Common Law. Then took place an extraordi-
nary phenomenon. Seeing their privileges threatened, the
Norman nobles found it necessary to ally themselves to the
contemned and exploited Saxons.

From this alliance was evolved a hybrid, namely. Magna
Charta.

Magna Charta recognized both the Saxon Common Law
and the independence of the Norman nobles. This took
place in 1215, and was signed by John Lackland.

The Saxons were at least thus rid of one danger : autoc-
racy.

Magna Charta established a whole system of legal guar-
antees against the king. The nobility brought together its
Council of twenty -fivo lords ; Saxon tradition had its Par-
liament, and — what was more to the Saxons — the rural
estates were made undistrainable, individuals were declared
inviolable, justice was ordained to be rendered by peers,
even in capital cases, which is the idea of the Saxon jury.

Such was the perseverance and tenacity with which thesd
indomitable peasants remained faithful to their social prin-
ciples and brought on their triumph.

They triumphed so well that the Norman lords were
compelled to look to the Saxons for strength to act. The
power of private life alone had made them once more con-

quer. T

establish^

Moreov

The Norn

but too ha

by agricul

Saxon ]

soon but o

the Saxon

The Sa3

strating, e^

social over

Since th

ally being j

days, owin^

predominati

This bool

to draw froj

P.S.— A

English of c
the words /<
lariste.

It was im

inology emp

nance in Eu^

Formation

by "commuE

by "particuh

These two

is here assig

The reader ij

may be no co

be understooc

the English Edition.

xvn

quer. The Saxon people had resumed their rank, and re-
established self-government.

Moreover, they gradually absorbed the Norman nobility.
The Normans, impoverished by continual civil wars, were
but too happy to marry the daughters of Saxons made rich
by agriculture.

Saxon predominance became so complete that there was
soon but one language — the Saxon language, and one law —
the Saxon Common Law.

The Saxon was triumphing all along the line, demon-
strating, even at that epoch, the undeniable superiority of
social over political power.

Since then, the Celtic and Norman elements are gradu-
ally being absorbed by the Anglo-Saxon element. Nowa-
days, owing to the same causes, the Anglo-Saxon not only
predominates in England, but throughout the whole world.

This book has for its aim to explain this phenomenon, and

to draw from it a great lesson.

EDMOND DEMOLINS.

P.S. — A difficulty has arisen as to the translation into
English of certain terms of Social Classification, chiefly of
the VfOidiS formation communautaire and formation particu-
lariste.

It was important to preserve unity in the scientific term-
inology employed by giving these words the same conso-
nance in English as in French.

Formation communautaire has therefore been translated
by " communistic formation, " and formation particulariste
by "particularistic formation."

These two fundamental terms, to which a special sense
is here assigned, are explained in the footnote on p. 39.
The reader is requested to refer to that note, so that there
may be no confusion in his mind, and that these words may
be understood in the sense there defined. — E. D.

■

1 i

; i
i ;

AUT

dread it;
the hatred
enough.

We can
across Vj
possessions
The An|
(which we
at Mauritii
He rules
Africa, by
mahj Aust:
rope— and
and by his
The map
the extraon
seems desti
ernment of
Other nal
also have coJ
y exercis

th.-

* In this mi
shaded and tl
threatened, as

AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE FRENCH

EDITION.

^ NGLO-SAXON superiority ! Although we do not all
Crl acknowledge it, we all have to bear it, and we all
dread it; the apprehension, the suspicion, and sometimes
the hatred provoked by V Anglais proclaim the fact loudly
enough.

We cannot go one step in the world without coming
across V Anglais. We cannot glance at any of our late
possessions without seeing there the Union Jack.

The Anglo-Saxon has supplanted us in North America
(which we occupied from Canada to Louisiana), in India,
at Mauritius (the old lie de France)^ in Egypt. ";

He rules America, by Canada and the United States;
Africa, by Egypt and the Cape; Asia, by India and Bur-
mah; Austral Asia, by Australia and New Zealand; Eu-
rope — and the whole world, by his trade and industries
and by his policy.

The map printed with this book * illustrates sufficiently
the extraordinary power of expansion of that race which
seems destined to succeed the Eomah Empire in the gov-
ernment of the world.

Other nations, such as France, Germany, Italy, Spain,
also have colonies ; but these are mostly colonies of of&cials ;
they exercise a military dominion over some territories,

^ In this map, the parts occupied by the Anglo-Saxon race are
shaded and the islands are underlined; the parts that are only
threatened, as Egypt and the Argentine Republic, are dotted.

■.: ■■ r

%■'

Author's Preface to

but they do not populate them, they do not transform them,
they do not take root in them like the Anglo-Saxon colonists.

Two other Empires, Bussia and China, occupy vast
areas; but their territories are to a large extent deserted,
and closed to civilization for a long time to come.

On the ' 'Tary, the Anglo-Saxon world is now at the
head of most active, the most progressive, the most

overflowing civilization. Men cf this race have no sooner
established themselves on any spot in the world than they
transform it by introducing, with marvellous rapidity,
the latest progressive innovations of our European com-
munities. And often these younger societies succeed in
outstripping us. They already call us, with a certain dis-
dain, the Old World. And indeed we must acknowledge
that we do look somewhat old by the side of these our
juniors.

See what we have made of New Caledonia and our other
possessions of Austral Asia, and see what they have made
of Australia and New Zealand. *

See what has become of Southern America under Span-
ish and Portuguese rule, and behold the transformation of
Northern America in the hands of the Anglo-Saxon. It is
like night and day.

The following simple figures may form another illustra-
tion of that undeniable superiority.

From official statistics, we find that the following ships
have passed through the Suez Canal in the course of one
year: —

French ships ... ... ... ... 160

German ships ... ... ... ... 260

British ships 2262!

♦Even in Algeria, which, however, is quite close to us, and
which we have occupied for the last sixty years, there are as yet
but 300,000 French people— as against 250,000 Europeans of differ-
ent nationalities, who threaten to submerge us.

But it ii
" denounce
our fists at

We shoi
equal to it,
and most c
properties.

The ques
digious pov
to civilize—
Such an
Studies — fo
or death.*

* Tliese Esfi
dale Review,
whole.

the French Edition.

XXI

But it is not sufficient to point out this superiority, to
" denounce'' it in Parliament or in the press, or to shake
our fists at VAnglaiSf like angry old women.

We should examine the situation as men who will be
equal to it, as scientists who will analyze it with exactness
and most coolly, so as to become acquainted with its real
properties.

The question indeed is to find out the secret of that pro-
digious power of expansion, of that extraordinary aptitude
to civilize — and the means of doing it.

Such an investigation is the object of this series of
Studies — for our sc J and for ourselves, a question of life
or death.*

* These Essays were first published separately in La Science So-
dale Review. The reader will see that they form a closely connected
whole.

i i

/•:^:

•^'1

. !»!

AUTJ

T THAN

■'• tendec

hausted w

In this :

which mig

It is kno

of German

that Frenc]

losing one

In prese

may well v

world by th

ened.

It is impc
and nature (
and that of
I will lim
that interest
framework o

* On this St
"Made in Gen
Schwob.

t Some youn
are to go to C
ically, on the s

AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE SECOND
FRENCH EDITION.

ON THE ALLEGED SUPERIORITY OF THE GERMANS.

I THANK the public and the press for the welcome ex-
tended to this book, of which the first edition was ex-
hausted within a few days.

In this new edition I wish to anticipate some objections
which might be made later on.

It is known that for the last fifteen years the exportation
of German manufactured goods has shown such increase
that French commerce has had to retreat almost generally,
losing one after the other of its acquired positions.*

In presence of sucibi commercial development, any one
may well wonder whether the position conquered in the
world by the Anglo-Saxons is not itself more or less threat-
ened.

It is important to let no confusion arise as to the causes
and nature of Anglo-Saxon social power on the one hand,
and that of the Germans on the other.

I will limit myself here to expounding the premises of
that interesting problem, or, more exactly, to presenting a
framework of the demonstration, f

* On this subject, read two works full of facts: Mr. WilliamB'.
"Made in Germany," and "Le Danger Allemand," by Mr. Maurice
Schwob.

f Some young people, after attending our Social Science classes,
are to go to Germany next summer, in order to observe method-
ically, on the spot, the actual state of that country.

B-f;

..- t

XXIV

Author's Preface to

Covered with mountainous groups in the south, with
sandy downs, moorlands, and marshes in its northern
parts, Germany has ever been peopled by poor populations,
accustomed to restricting their needs, leading simple lives,
and being satisfied with small salaries. The far-famed
German frugality is a virtue made necessary by nature —
which perhaps somewhat detracts from its merit.

Owing to the low wages accepted by the workers and to
the lack of fastidiousness of the clients, German industry
was necessarily and at all times limited to the manufacture
of common and cheap articles.

Now this is what is happening at the present time.

These conditions of labour, which really constituted an
inferiority, have become — at least for the moment, and
in consequence of exterior circumstances — an advantage.

The contemporary development of means of transport,
by permitting easier access to new or backward countries,
with their simple, half -civilized, or even half-savage con-
sumers, has speedily increased the number of purchasers
of common and cheap articles. Here was a fresh opening
for German trade and industry, for the most part in articles
or this class.

They took advantage of it in the way habitual nowadays
to tradesmen and manufacturers who command but limited
capital and equally limited resources of action or initiative :
by appealing to the principle of association for means of
commercial expansion and propagation.

These Associations gathered funds and organized exhibi-
tions, in order to make known their wares and to acquire
a knowledge of the demands of the market.

From a purely scientific point of view, this example is
interesting, as showing how association can partly extenuate
an inferiority resulting from conditions of locality, labour,
and from a social formation which is more favourable to

the develi
as will be
Associa
press that
facturers
otherwise
with the ii
which wou
their spher
the Trans\
of Trade
Noailles, pi
German m(
frere. * 1
chants are ]
mth its lig
sufiPered ''w
lish competii
"Often,*'
too little cai
ing, at time
written " res(
success, and
check to his
Englishman,
severance'^ — a
" Another 1
served them
conditions of
manded artic:
sufficient pac]
geance!), "ig

forgetfulness

* M07t

the Second French Edition.

XXV

the development of collective than of individual enterprise,
as will be shown in this book.

Association may indeed extenuate, but it does not sup-
press that inferiority. It does provide the German manu-
facturers and brokers with means of activity which they
otherwise would lack, but it does not provide each of them
with the individual power in which they are deficient, and
which would enable them to extend abroad (and separately)
their sphere of action. An Essay on German commerce in
the Transvaal, lately communicated to the French Board
of Trade by our ambassador at Berlin, the Marquis de
Noailles, points out clearly the personal inferiority of the
German merchant as compared with his Anglo-Saxon con-
frere.* The author first makes sure that German mer-
chants are in dire need of " their government helping them
with its light and protection,'' to avoid the "deceptions"
suffered " whenever they undertook to struggle against Eng-
lish contpetition."

"Often," our author adds, "business was started with
too little capital ; then, the German, so bold in undertak-
ing, at times lacks patience" (the author ought to have
written " resources" ; for your German is patient) " to await
success, and withdraws from the struggle after the first
check to his attempts, contrarily to the course taken by the
Englishman, who knows that nothing succeeds without per-
severance" — and who has the means of waiting.

" Another fault, peculiar to the Germans, and which often
served them ill in the Transvaal, is their ignorance of the
conditions of the market: they import useless or unde-
manded articles. We can point out also as faults the in-
sufficient packing" (here is German economy with a ven-
geance!), "ignorance of the modes of conveyance, and
forgetfulness of the peculiarly cosmopolitan character of
* Moniteur Officiel du Commerce, May 12, 1897.

i i

XXVI

Author's Preface to

the Transvaal market. Another cause of failure is the
choice of agents, to whom besides too little freedom of
action is allowed, and who are insufficiently posted up in
the local trading requirements. . . . These different rea-
sons have up to the present stopped the progress of Ger-
man trade."

Such a confession from a German source shows that,
even if the Germans have been able, by uniting their
efforts, to develop the exportation of their goods, and if
they thus threaten the enormous industrial and commercial
power of the Anglo-Saxons, it cannot be said that the
latter has been, as yet, seriously damaged.

If now we observe the Anglo-Saxon, we shall see that
his process of industrial and commercial expansion is very
different.

It was indeed exclusively by individual efforts, and by
personal initiative, without any support from private asso-
ciation or from that great public association, the State,
that the Anglo-Saxon manufacturer and merchant took
possession of the market of the world ; and they did so,
thanks to those social conditions which it is the aim of this
book to explain. Men who could do by themselves, with-
out any outside help, what others could only do (and this
much more imperfectly) by combining, give thus the meas-
ure of their undeniable superiority.

And this superiority will be maintained in spite of the
Germans' efforts to invade the markets of the world. It
will be maintained in virtue of the very superiority which
the personal action of a great manufacturer or merchant
has over the collective action exercised by associated manu-
facturers or merchants.

Industry and commerce are bound to follow a constant
process of evolution, in order to keep adapted to the many
ever-changing conditions of the market. Now, it is evi-

dent that

men — moi

more or le

pete amouj

evolution c

make thos(

deed, this

inability to

here is the

theories.

How can
of time tho
the hands o
identical inl
and gifted,
their race fo
business no '.
ings?

As soon a
encroachmen
papers soun(
do, being mc
Germany !
are, how jeah
even distant!

■

superiority,
cry for a cry
greater mista
tween those
yearly pass tl
I repeat thj
vantage onljr
are concerned,
ing those artic

th*; Second French Edition. xxvii

"'^^

dent that those combinations of manufacturers and trades-
men — more or less solidly bound together and actuated by-
more or less opposed interests (considering that they com-
pete amongst themselves), will find it difficult to follow the
evolution of the market. It is difficult enough as it is, to
make those partly divergent interests march together ! In-
deed, this is a vice inherent in all associations ; it is this
inability to " evolve" which causes their repeated failures ;
here is the weak spot where practice ever belies the finest
theories.

How can these very artificial groups fight for any length
of time those Anglo-Saxon firms strongly concentrated in
the hands of one man, or at most of a few partners tied by
identical interefits, who are backed by considerable capital,
and gifted, moreover, with the extraordinary capacity of
their race for rapidly turning round as soon as any line of
business no longer pays and instantly changing their bear-
ings?

As soon as the English made out the first symptoms of
encroachment on the part of German industry, their news-
papers sounded a note of warning, as they were bound to
do, being more vigilant sentinels than our own: Madt in
Germany! This cry only proves how wide-awake they
are, how jealously sensible of everything that may threaten,
even distantly, their formidable commercial and industrial
superiority. Our deep error lay in mistaking this warning
cry for a cry of alarm and dismay. There could not be a
greater mistake. There is, besides, a pretty margin be-
tween those 260 German and 2262 British ships which
yearly pass through the Suez Canal!

I repeat that German industry and trade are at some ad-
vantage only so far as the cheaper and commoner articles
are concerned. If the English cannot succeed in produc-
ing those articles at the same prices in their own country,

J \

%% 1 .

XXVlll

Author's PreffAce to

where wages are higher, they will turn round rapidly — in-
deed they have turned round — and will produce them else-
where, in poorer countries, where the installation of English
firms is announced to have taken place. We know, be-
sides, with what facility they settle abroad. I wish I felt
as easy in my mind as to the suppleness of French industry
and trade.

But the Germans, as compared to the Anglo-Saxons,
labour under a double inferiority, which is bound, in the
near future, to fatally compromise their expansion.

With the exception of the iu habitants of Hanover and
Westphalia, who partake of the peculiar Anglo-Saxon (and
individualistic) temperament, the Germans, in general, are
little inclined naturally towards agricultural colonization.
They are town-dwellers, who more willingly emigrate as
clerks than as farmers. They therefore do not establish
their race upon the soil in the fashion of the Anglo-Saxon.
So whenever they find themselves in contact with him, they
are absorbed by him. Thus German emigrants in North-
ern America become Saxonized with extraordinary rapid-
ity; the second generation speaks only English and
speedily adopts American habits and tastes. In their
haste to operate through that evolution, a certain number
of them even go so far as to give their names an English
signification. As a consv.j[uence, American newspapers
edited in German find it hard to maintain a circulation ;
their readers are recruited solely amongst newly-arrived
emigrants.

Thus, whilst the English body of consumers — that which
always and everywhere looks for English goods — is con-
stantly increasing, through the settling of fresh colonists
all over the globe, and the ceaseless extension of the Anglo-
Saxon world, the body of German consumers tends to di-
minish iu number, through the absence of agricultural col-

onization
by the i
race.

The sei
ceeds froi
many, aft
I have
trious, am
actual ind
lowly but
turies of ;
produce th
velopment
sprout and
I intenti
sicn of the
not of New
What tl
system last
It will p
exten ding-
never yet b
perity.

Louis XI

only of thos

us. Note a]

and Philip I

At first th(

the outward

cause they c(

all the live f(

ceding rigim

lias known r

knew former!

the Second French Edition. xxix

onization, and the rapid absorption of the German element
by the more resisting and more absorbing Anglo-Saxon
race.

The second inferiority on the part of the Germans pro-
ceeds from the political regime recently established in Ger-
many, after the proclamation of the Empire.

I have shown above how Old Germany, poor, indus-
trious, and saving, was the real point of departure of the
actual industrial and commercial expansion, through the
lowly but solid, qualities accumulated by the race. Cen-
turies of a slow and obscure germination were needed to
produce that plant which fortuitous circumstances (the de-
velopment of the means of transport) suddenly caused to
sprout and blossom.

I intentionally insist on this point. The present expan-
sion of the German race is the produc: of Old Germany —
not of New.

What the new imperial Germany will produce (if the
system lasts) is quite different.

It will produce — it is even already producing, and daily
extending — Militarism, Officialism, and Socialism, which
never yet brought in their wake social or economic pros-
perity.

Louis XIV. and Napoleon gave to France the first two
only of those evils, and note to what fix they have brought
us. Note also what has become of the Spain of Charles V.
and Philip II.

At first those enormous machineries impart to a society all
the outward appearances of political and social power, be-
cause they centralize, suddenly and brutally, in one hand,
all the live forces of a nation slowly constituted by the pre-
ceding regimes. It is such a brilliant period that Prussia
has known recently ; such as Spain, such as we ourselves
knew formerly. But precisely because this regime central-

XXX Preface to Second F»*ench Edition.

izes all the live forces, it ends by stunting them, exhaust-
ing them, and sterilizing them; and then comes deep-set
and sometimes irremediable decay.

The German Empire, if it persist — as is likely — in its
present policy, will not escape that fatal law. Let the
Germans therefore hasten to utilize the ancient social
virtues of their race in behalf of their commercial expan-
sion, and cease railin-^ at our decadence. We are only
preceding them ; that is all.

And whilst the Anglo-Saxon race will become greater
and greater by the fruitful and ev«r renewed words of pri-
vate initiative and self-government, Old Germany will lose
gradually the strong qualities which went to form and still
make up its social power.

In this Preface I make a point of clearly establishing an
esf^ential distinction between Old and New Germany, be-
cause in the second chapter of this book I have only the
latter in view ; the reader should be guarded against any
confusion. It will be seen in that chapter how, according
to his own confession, the German Emperor manages to
destroy the Old Germany in order to fashion a la Pnis-
siennef and through the instrumentality of the School, the
New Germany.

EDMOND DEMOLINS.

Ang

THE f:

FVEN fri
^ land i
vividly. :
ceive, fron
Saxon supe
Every na
view of its
acting on tl
Our first
many, and ]
The fourt
evolution, a
dren in ord(
tions of the

Anglo - Saxon Superiority

to what it is due.

THE

BOOK L

FRENCHMAN AND THE ANGLO-SAXON
AT SCHOOL.

EVEN from the School does the contrast between Eng-
land and the other Western nations begin to show
vividly. This contrast is striking, and enables us to per-
ceive, from its birth, the fundamental causes of Anglo-
Saxon superiority.

Every nation organizes Education in its own image, in
view of its customs and habits j Education in its turn re-
acting on the social state.

Our first three studies of Education in France, in Ger-
many, and in England will help us to realize this.

The fourth study determines the nature of the actual social
evolution, and points how we ought to bring up our chil-
dren in order to raise them to the level of the new condi-
tions of the world.

! I

CHAPTER I. -

DOES THE FRENCH SCHOOL SYSTEM FORM MEN?

ASK a hundred young Frenchmen, just out of school, to
what careers they are inclined ; three-quarters of them
will answer you that they are candidates for Government
offices.

The ambition of most of them is to enter the army, the
magistrature, the Ministeres^ the Civil Service, the Fi-
nances, the Consulate, the Fonts et Chaussees, the Mines,
the Tobacco Department, the Eaux et Forets, the Univer-
sity, the public libraries, archives, etc.

Independent callings, as a rule, only find their recruits
amongst young men who have been unsuccessful in enter-
ing those careers.

Of course the State cannot accept all these candidates for
public functions ; a certain number only must be picked,
and a selection organized.

Now, this selection can only be exercised through the
means of examinations, influence, or birth.

Selection through birth and influence is only exceptional
and accessory ; examination is the great entrance door to
those different careers.

To be successful at the examination is, therefore, the
young Frenchman's chief preoccupation, since all his future
hangs on this first success ; so that families will employ
those means that are best calculated to ensure that success.

Hence the influence which Frenchmen attribute to the

School— i

desired ci

classify in,

Moreov

conditions

for exami

estimate t]

tion to the

competitio]

would soon

School a qi

Now, th(

inations is

by its name

serves to es

the Univers

practising ij

What is c

It consists

superficial, I

gramme of a

This knoT

possible," fo

First, peo]

entrance into

to restrict th(

the tests mor

Even if it

an advantage

have ample 1

superannuatic

In these c(

The excessive

make them so

The French School System.

School — for it is the School which alone can open the most
desired careers. The School it is which controls the social
classifying.

Moreover, the School itself will be constiuuted in those
conditions which will be most favourable to the preparation
for examinations. It could not be otherwise, for families
estimate the value of educational establishments in propor-
tion to the number of pupils passed yearly at the different
competitions. A School unsuccessful in this kind of sport
would soon have no pupils at all. That is tnerefore for the
School a question of life or death.

Now, the surest way of preparing successfully for exam-
inations is le chauffage (cramming), since we must call it
by its name. This process, as barbarous as t^^ 3 term which
serves to express it, is made so imperiously necessary that
the Universite and the free Schools vie with each other in
practising it.

What is chauffage ?

It consists in imparting, in as little time as possible f a
superficial, but temporarily sufficient, knowledge of the pro-
gramme of an examination.

This knowledge must be imparted " in as little time as
possible," for two reasons.

First, people are hurried by the limit of age fixed for
entrance into most careers. This limit is imposed in order
to restrict the increasing number of candidates and to make
the tests more crucial.

Even if it was not for the limit of age, candidates find
an advantage in passing their examinations early, so as to
have ample time for promotion before the age fixed for
superannuation.

In these conditions, studies are necessarily superficial.
The excessive extension of the programmes alone would
make them so. The greater the increase in the number of

'\y'r

•,-f ■

Docs the French

candidates, the more is added to the programmes, in order
to increase the difficulties. Thus we have come to ency-
clopaedic programmes which no human intelligence could
possibly master thoroughly. They can therefore be
touched but slightly.

No doubt the professors who preside over the examina-
tions would be greatly at a loss to answer many of the
questions. If they were to enter the lists themselves, they
might run a good risk of being " plucked. " We can realize
now why cramming only imparts an evanescent knowledge of
the masters of an examination. If this system of teaching
had for aim to inculcate real and thorough knowledge and
to train the superior faculties of the mind, its results might
be durable. But as it consists principally of mnemotechnic
efforts, its effects are wholly on the surface and do not
affect the intelligence : they fade away as all hasty impres-
sions do. No one objects to this, however, as the one goal
of all that " forcing" of the young idea is — success at the
examination. It is sufficient, therefore, for the student to
be, at one time, in a fit state to go through the ordeal.
That ordeal gone through, the career being assured, the
rest is only accessory.

That is how examinations gave birth to cramming.
They have also developed a special school regime: the
grand internat (huge boarding-schools).

In a country where examinations alone open the most
ambitious careers, parents are inclined to count entirely
on the School for the education of their children. In-
deed, cramming implies peculiar training methods, arti-
ficial filling processes of which families are ignorant.
Those practices cannot be directed or continued at home.
Moreover, time is the chief point — and the child must be
allowed no distraction from his work.

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School System Form Men?

1 ■

II.

It must be acknowledged that this educational system
is quite appropriate to the aim in view, which is to form
civil and military othciuls.

The perfect otiicial must abdicate his will : he must be
trained to obey ; he is to execute, without discussing them,
the orders of his superiors. He is essentially an instru-
ment in the hands of some other man.

Note how well the f/rand Internut is fitted for that train-
ing. It seems to have been organized on the model of a
barracks. I'upils rise in the morning at the sound of the
drum, or the bell ; they march in ranks from one occupa-
tion to the other ; the very walks for exercise are like the
tiling-past of a regiment. Playtime takes place mostly in
an interior yard surrounded by high buildings; the boys
walk about in groups more often than they play. Besides,
those recreations are short ; generally half an hour in the
morning, one hour after the midday meal, and another half -
hour for the four-o'clock collation. Exeats are scarce : on
the average once a month. Parents can only see their
children twice a week, and for one hour at most, in a com-
mon parlour, filled with people who can overbear one
another's conversations.

Obviously, such bringing-up suppresses in young men
the habit of free and spontaneous action and originality.

It tends to suppress those differences which family in-
fluence might have developed. It casts all intellects in one
uniform mould, makes them instruments indeed, ready to
obey the impulsion which will be given them.

Passive obedience will be the more easily obtained be-
cause the examination system has not developed the habit
of reflection, the faculty of judgment. An enormous mass

I . ,., .«,

'*'!♦

Does the French

of matter has been swallowed hastily and anyhow : memory
alone has done this. As he accepted, implicitly, the ready-
made tuition imposed by the programmes, so will the
young man accept the orders transmitted to him by tho
bureaucratic hierarchy. Besides, do not both tuition and
orders come from the source, the State? As a schoolboy,
you were taught the State's doctrines ; as an official, you
obey the State's instructions: 11 n^y a rien de chanyel

It was Napoleon who first had the intuition of the pos-
sible role of the School in forming officials. In the seven-
teenth and eighteenth centuries, the grands Internats were
still the exception ; they began to multiply under the first
Empire. Napoleon, in constituting the University de
France, generalized the type. Indeed, a State centralized
as his was, could only be worked by means of a large num-
ber of officials. The State was thus interested in forming
itself the young men who were soon to be employed in its
service. It was naturally disposed to inculcate in them
early, at an age when the ideas are not yet formed, those
doctrines and habits which go to the making of good offi-
cials, namely, negation of initiative, passive obedience,
uniformity of opinions and ideas — in short, everything
which may serve to rob a man of his individuality.

The ulfferent Governments which succeeded one another
in France since the first Empire, despite their different
labels, installed themselves into the Napoleonic structure,
which even to-day stands as our political edifice. Far
from diminishing centralization, the numbers of officials
have increased since the beginning of the century. And
so the cramming and grand intemat systems gradually
developed.

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School System Form Men

HI.

Such is the treatment which most French people submit
to, in the hope of being successful m the examinations
which open the careers of the State. If all entertain such
a hope, however, but few are called — and those who fail
must needs find situations elsewhere.

Another question arises here — whether this educational
system, so eminently suitable to forming officials, is equally
good for preparing men capable of creating for themselves
independent positions and really taking care of themselves.

To create for himself an independent position, a man re-
quires first of all initiative, then strength of will and the
habit of relying on self.

The system just described not only does not develop
these aptitudes, but restricts and smothers them. More-
over, it has the effect of accustoming the minds to expect
ready-made situations, in which advancement is the reward
of patience rather than of constant eifoxt,. Indeed, both in
the army and in the different departments, promotion comes
mostly from seniority and protection. The difficulty is to
get there ; but when once you are in the place, you have
but to follow the regular and automatic motion which car-
ries you unfailingly from grade to grade. Evidently such
prospects are not calculated to produce heroic souls and
conquering hearts.

To create for himself an independent position, a man
must be young too. Unless he is, he cannot confront with-
out flinching — and surmount — the difficulties which bristle
at the entrance of all enterprises. Besides, youth is the
beat age for learning a trade or profession.

But the aspiring official is kept in suspense at least un-
til he is twenty years of age, very often twenty -five, some-

Does the French

times thirty and beyond. When he has finally lost all
hope of success, a great many careers are closed to him ; he
is too late for any, because beginnings are long, arduous,
and ill-paid. Besides, the older, the more exacting he is —
and the more exacting a man is, the less likely is he to
find a situation. Time goes on, the man grows older, and
the difficulties increase.

Youth is not everything, however ; our young man must
show natural ability, inclination, technical knowledge.
No one is made a farmer, a manufacturer, a merchant, or
a tradesman, in one day. All these careers require an
apprenticeship, and the best is found in practice and family
traditions.

Our School training, just described, does not prepare for
any of these avocations. On the contrary, it inspires the
young people with disgust, it teaches them the alleged su-
periority of public functions. How many heads of families
whose positions rest on agriculture, industry, or trade,
wonder at hearing their sons — just out of school — declare
that they cannot continue the paternal calling ! The School
has disgusted them with it.

This influence on the part of the School is becoming
so general that we have come to deplore nowadays the
estrangement of French young men from the more usual
occupations, which, however, are also the most useful and
honourable.

In consequence, those young men who, having failed in
their examinations, are obliged to throw themselves on
such callings, only do so on compulsion, half-heartedly,
without natural dispositions, or sufficient special educa-
tion — in short, in the very worst of conditions for assuring
success.

However, besides official functions, our educational re-
gime particularly predisposes young men to all kinds of

office or
sions.

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Of

School System Form Men ? 9

office or administrative work as well as the liberal profes-
sions.

Any preference for the former is easily accounted for by
its analogy with the work of public offices. The same apti-
tudes are required, and there is as little demand for initia-
tive, exercise of will-power, of constant effort ; on the other
hand, equal security is offered: advancement is slow and
sure, inevitable.

So young Frenchmen who have failed in their examina-
tions willingly turn to these administrations, as the French
word is. We all know that they are besieged by a crowd
of candidates to all of whom it is impossible to give berths.

The attraction exercised by the liberal professions is
also a direct consequence of our educational system. One
of its distinctive traits, owing to the constant increase of
the programmes, is its encyclopaedic character. A young
Frenchman generally comes out of college with the convic-
tion that he knows everything, since he has dabbled in
everything and can write and speak about everything.
Behold him an homjue de lettres in some measure! He has
been almost condemned to that profession, because School
has ill prepared him — or at any rate has rendered him
unfit — for any other independent career.

But if our School regime thus multiplies to excess the
number of men given to the liberal professions, it is a fact
that these men owe to it a peculiar intellectual conformation.

Its characteristic feature is a difficulty and often an
absolute powerlessness to study any question thoroughly.
The Frenchman is at his best in works of imagination, in
rapid and therefore venturesome generalizations. Most
instructive on this point is a persual of the Journal de
la Librairie, which publishes a weekly account of literary
production in France. Voluminous books are becoming
scarcer and scarcer, and when you do come across one, it

»
j I

lo The French School System.

is generally some huge compilation of a more or less ency-
ciopeedic character — not any personal work having required
long and elaborate reflection ; but rather some vast com-
pendium meant to present an ensemble of facts under the
most easily digestible form. With very few exceptions,
there are now in France, for long personal literary efforts,
neither authors nor readers. Indeed our publishers shrink
from any proposal to publish a book in several volumes.

This inability to go to the bottom of any subject is not a
" racial phenomenon, " as we can be convinced by compar-
ing the literary production of the last two centuries and the
beginning of this with the production of the last forty years.

This fact is mostly due to the cramming occasioned by
the examinations. When the mind has been trained solely
to skimming the surface of things, to learning exclusively
from " manuals, " to comprehending things speedily rather
than judiciously understanding them, to swallowing the
greatest possible quantity of indigestible information ; then
does all methodical and thorough work become impossible.
A mind so trained simply cannot do it.

And naturally this inability is in proportion to the length
of time and intensity accorded to the cramming and ex-
amination regime. This phenomenon reaches its climax
amongst pupils of our largest schools. They are superior
in memory, in rapidity of conception, in aptitude to seize
a demonstration as it were on the wing. These are, be-
sides, the only qualities which there has been any attempt
to develop in them — and to them they owe their successes
in the examinations; the pupils prove decidedly inferior
as soon as they are called to bring into practice those bril-
liant but empty qualities.

Our actual educational system therefore forms chiefly
good officials ; it is hardly capable of producing anything
else. It is especially unfitted to form men.

ONEm
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How is i\

CHAPTER II.

}

DOES THE GERMAN SCHOOL SYSTEM FORM MEN?

ONE might think that some evil genius takes a malignant
pleasure in breaking all our idols one after the other.

It is the turn of the School, this time.

The School! What respect, what worship of the School
was taught us ! If the Germans conquered us, it was be-
cause their Schools were superior to our own ; forthwith we
enlarged our programmes of examinations and multiplied
our educational establishments. No amount of expense was
a luxury so long as Education was concerned : there was an
era of palace-schools. A spendthrift does not drive on
the road to ruin with greater enthusiasm.

The enthusiasm was general: a free School was not
enough, it must be compulsory as well. Every one to the
School! The sons of peasants, as well as the scions of the
middle class, were dragged to School. Woe to the man
rash enough to express the slightest doubt as to the sover-
eign efficiency of the School!

The order of the day then was — imitation of the Ger-
mans; as we borrowed their military institutions, so we
borrowed their scholastic methods, their pedagogy, their
philology — that famous German philology, so subtle, so
keen! " Let the brats of the second form have good Latin
texts, and you'll see how the country will rise again!" the
doctors of the University would say. And admiring France
would repeat those magic words.

How is it that what yesterday was an incontestable truth

^1!

■^

''H

Does the German

has become to-day a mistake? For no one doubts that it
is a mistake ; every one is agreed as to that, ou both sides
of the Khine.

Among us, there was at first something like a dull
rumour : some persons ventured to say that the School was
not showing the expected results ; the development of the
educational programmes coincided with an obvious slacken-
ing of the actual benelit ; the averages of examined students
were going down in alarming fashion: figures were quoted,
facts were instanced. People went the length of saying
that the development of the School multiplied the number
of excluded men (les declasses), of incapables; that this
constituted a grave danger.

As, however, those rumours were spread abroad by peo-
ple unattached to the educational body, or placed outside
the official world, the general public did not heed them,
but accused the malcontents of being guilty of parti pris.

But presently some prominent members of the Univer-
sity of France, some actual heads of the educational body
(a late Minister of Instruction Puhlique among them), be-
gan to raise their voices and utter the same complaints.
In the Sorbonne itself the urgency of reform was advo-
cated.

However, some might yet believe that this was but an-
other infatuation of the French, ever prompt to fluctuate
from one idea to another, from one extreme to the other;
until it was announced that the same protest had just burst
cut in Germany — at Berlin.

And the author of the protest there was none other than
the German Emperor himself.

So the two countries which of late years were loudest in
proclaiming the sovereign virtue of the School, at present
denounce it with no less energy as having failed to fulfil
its promises — or, rather, their own expectations.

School System Form Men ?

In what have the hopes of the German Emperor been
disappointed? and what does he expect from the School?
That will be an interesting and instructive investigation ;
it will be no less interesting and instructive to know his
programmes, and to find out whether his expectations have
any chance of bemg realized.

The first part O- his speech deals with this idea : The
School does not yield what we expected of it.

The Emperor first ascertains that the School has failed
in the teaching itself — that is, technically.

" There would have been no need for me, " he says, " to
issue the Cabinet order which the Minister has just alluded
to, if the School had kept on the level on which it ought to
have kept. I want first to remark that if I have presently
to show some severity, it will be to no actual person, but
to the system and the situation it has created. . . . The
School has not done what we had a right to expect from it."

" What is wrong?" he wonders. " The truth is, a good
many points are wrong."

And immediately the Emperor starts his impeachment
against Education, the subjects taught, and the methods
employed. He begins with philology, that same philology
which was to have raised the study of dead languages to
the height of a science, and lent such powerful aid to the
literary training of the young generation.

" The root of the evil," says he, " lies in this — that since
1870 the philologists have kept to the easy role of heati pos-
sidentes, and fixed their attention chiefly on the subjects to
be taught, on the art of teaching, on knowledge itself; not
on the formation of character and the requirements of our
own present life. You, Mr. Privy Councillor Hinzpeter,

■■5^1

Does the German

I beg your pardon for saying it, but you are an idealistic
philologist ; yet it is none the less true that the situation
has reached a point where it must be put a stop to."

So much for the methods. As we see, the Emperor has
no tender mercies for the methods. He is not more merci-
ful to the subject of the tuition — what up to the present
has been the basis of literary instruction — Latin. It is
known that the Germans are as proud of their Latinists as
uhey are of their philologists. That is another illusion
which has to be shaken off. At least, this is what the
German Emperor tells us :

"There are many objections raised, gentlemen; many
things are said. Latin composition is very important too ;
Latin composition is excellent to fashion a man in the
study of foreign languages, and what not!

" Yes, gentlemen, I have been through all that myself.
What, then, does your Latin composition consist in? I
often found that a young man had secured, for instance 4
(good average) for German composition, and 2 (very good)
for Latin composition. This pupil, instead of any praise,
deserves punishment, for he obviously had not worked his
Latin composition in the proper way — that is, without help.
Of all Latin compositions which we ever wrote, there was
not one in a dozen with which we did not employ similar
means; such work was marked as good. So much for
Latin composition. But if we were to write a German
composition on Lessing's *Mina von Barnhelm,' it would be

marked indifferent.

• • •

Therefore I say, Down with

Latin composition! It is in our way, and makes us waste
our tim«."

So the teaching of philology and Latin have not given
the expected results.

Such is the first declaration made by the German Em-
peror, but he made another.

School System Form Men f

The Emperor declared that the School had failed from a
practical point of view — that is to say, in forming the man
and providing for his success in life. That is the principal
part in his speech — at least it is on this failure to form men
that the speaker insists most particularly. Anticipating
the imperial mind, the Minister of Cults and Education,
in his opening speech, had asked whether, after the changes
in the situation of Prussia and Germany, " the German peo-
ple ought to remain, as in the past, a people of thinkers,
seeking their satisfaction within themselves?" He an-
swers, No, because ^^ the eyes of the German nation are noiv
fixed abroad and even towards colonization."

This is clear ; the need is to favour the expansion of the
German race, to render it fit to take its part in the conquest
of the world, for which the European peoples are at the
present time competing.

And the Minister concludes that the antiquated system
still in force for superior education should be abandoned.

In his turn the Emperor, from the very beginning of his
speech, expatiates on the unpractical character of the teach-
ing : " First, let me point out before anything else that the
question at issue concerns exclusively those technical and
pedagogic measures which are to be adopted in order to
educate our growing youth, so as to provide for the necessi-
ties inherent in the Frotherland^ s position in the ivorld, and
to fit our men for th( struggle for life."

The secret is out : the young generations must be pre-
pared for the " struggle for life ;" they must be made prac-
tical men, capable of taking care of themselves, capable of
competing abroad with the best-fitted emigrants of other
races.

Well, on this ground the School has failed again. It
has produced declasses, human failures, journalists; worse
than that, overworked, short-sighted abortions incapable

'*!*

Does the German

of any vigorous or energetic effects : so says the Emperor
again, in most distinct words.

He first alludes to the " forcing" of the young, which
ruins the body and is unfavourable to the development of
the will.

" I now reach our boys' time-table, and find it absolutory
necessary that the number of hours set for home work
should be revised. Privy Councillor Hinzpeter may re-
member that it was whilst I was a pupil at the Cassel gym-
nasium that the parents' first protest was heard. The
Government subsequently ordered an inquiry to be opened :
we were then required to hand to our principal every morn-
ing a note stating how many hours each of us had devoted
to home work. Well, gentlemen, I, for one, was obliged to
work — and Herr Hinzpeter was there to see to it — seven
hours at home ! Add to this, six hours at the gymnasium,
two hours for meals, and you can easily reckon what time
I had to myself."

The Emperor adds that one single circumstance helped
him to counteract the effects of such overwork, and even
this was not within the reach of the generality of stu-
dents. "Had I not had the opportunity of riding on
horseback," he says, "and otherwise moving at liberty, I
should not in a general way have known what goes on in
the world."

Undoubtedly horseback exercise is excellent for counter-
acting the effects of mental strain, but it may be granted
that it is not quite suflScient to impart a knowledge of life
and the world.

At least the Emperor points out the evil. "I am of
opinion," he adds, " that a decisive remedy should be found
for this state of things. Gentlemen, the bow cannot be
bent any further, nor can it be allowed to remain so far
bent any longer. Things have gone too far already.

"The

that the

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School System Form Men? 17

" The Schools have done Buperhuman work ; I consider
that they give us too many ^earned men: they turn out
more learning than is good for the nation at large, more
than 13 good for the individuals."

What will those now say who proclaimed that the great-
ness of vitality of a nation can be measured from the num-
ber of its savants ?

" On this subject," the Emperor goes on, "the expression
of Prince Bismarck, the Proletariat of University Grad-
uates, is exact. Most of those candidates for Starvation
(the word is hard), especially journalists, are public-school
abortions" (the word is not only hard but is partly true).
" This fact constitutes a danger for up Through this ex-
cess, our country is now like a flooded field which can bear
no further watering. I will not therefore authorize the
opening of any more gymnasiums, unless cogent reasons
are furnished for doing so. We've got enough of them."

In their turn, what will those now say who proclaimed
that the greatness and vitality of a nation can be measured
from the number of its Schools? The man who thus con-
demns them is not an uncultured barbarian from the for-
ests of Old Oermany ; he is himself a produ3t of the most
intense scholastic development of historic times, a product
of the studious, University-ridden, pedantic Germany of lat-
ter days.

At the close of his speech, the Emperor reverts to the
physical inferiority wrought by the system : " What can a
man do who cannot see with his eyes? And there is a pro-
portion of 74 per cent, short-sighted pupils in our Schools !
When I was a pupil at the Cassel gymnasium, the classes
were held in a well-ventilated hall, thanks to the desire ex-
pressed by my mother ; well, out of my twenty-one fellow-
students, eighteen wore spectacles

*•' These things went to my heart, and I may tell you that
2

i i

i ;

'%i^

Does the German

masses of petitions and beseeching letters from parents
have reached me.

" Now, this is my business, since I am the father of my
country, and it is my duty to declare that things shall not
go on in this way.

" Gentlemen, men are not to look at the world through
a pair of spectacles, but with their own eyes ... we shall
take care of this, I promise you. "

The School has therefore failed practically as well as
technically.

But that is not all. The School is responsible for still
another fiasco : the School has failed polkically — a grave
reproach.

We know, indeed, how much the School ht\d been relied
on for instilling in young men a propt..- Dolitical tone. To
make sure of the School was for all parties, and especially
for a Government, the best means of success. This was
an incontestable doctrine. Consequently, pitched battles
were fought round the School, in France and in Germany.
The School became the great political platform, and the
source of numberless factions: in France, the new scho-
lastic law with its famous Art. VII. sprang from it; in
Germany, it gave birth to the Culturkampf.

The German Emperor kept pegging away at the School
as much as our Governments ever did; and in a masterly
way he kept harping on his theme, Prussian-like, as we
did Jacobin-like — but the two fashions are identical.

And now, this same Emperor comes forth and solemnly
declares that the School has not given him the political
results which he expected — and he is in the best place to
know ! It seems to me that our own politicians are in the
way of confessing as much, for a certain number of mem-
bers of the majority — the less obtuse — mention only the
necessity of disarming on the ground of the School ; they

School System Form Men ?

soon ascertained that the scholastic laws have alienated
from them more minds than they brought over partisans.

What, then, from a political point of view, did the Ger-
man Emperor expect from the School? Let him speak.

" If the School had done what we had a right to expect
from it — and I know what T am speak' ng of, for I was edu-
cated at the gymnasium and know hew things go on there
— the School ought, first of all, to have opened the duel
against iJe/nocraci/."

The very words used by the present French minority
when they were in power! Whereas the Republicans
said, Open the duel against the monarchical and clerical
party ! The same shibboleth prevails in all parties and in
both countries; with the same end, namely, to turn the
School into an engine of political domination.

But let us trace the Emperor's meaning. He adds:
" The Schools and Universities ought to have taken up the
question in earnest and instructed the young generations in
such a way that yoiing men who are now about my age,
that is to say thirty, should by this time have brought to-
gether the materials wherewith I might work the State
and thus speedily become master of the situation. "

At any rate, the Emperor cannot be suspected of dissim-
ulation : he clearly means the Schools to manufacture for
him mere auxiliaries who will enable him to "become
master of the situation." That is his idea of Education,
his notion of the role of the School. If the German pro-
fessors and German families agree with it, that is their
business!

Af ler stating what his expectations had been, the Em-
peror states that they were not fulfilled : " Such ivas not the
casef" he says.

And he immediately adds : '' The last moment when our
Schools provided for the needs of our patriotic life and de-

Does the German

velopment, was in the years '04, '60, and '70. Then the
Prussian Schools were depot?, for the idea of Unity, which
was taught every where."

" Every one in l*russia was animated with one idea : the
restoration of the German Empire and recapture of Alsace
and Lorraine. All this ceased after 1871. The Empire
was constituted, we had what we wanted, and we fell
asleep on our laurels. We should at once have proceeded
to teach our youth that it is necessary to preserve what we
have gained. Nothing was done in this direction, and for
some time past decentralizing tendencies have manifested
themselves. I am in a position to appreciate such things,
for I am placed at the first rank and have to study these
questions. These symptoms are due to the education of
youth."

He then seeks the actual source of the evil, and finds it
in the nature of the teaching and the matter taught. There
it was we saw him breaking lances against philologists and
Latin. He hotly rebukes teachers who dare contend that
the ** mission of the School is essentially the gymnastics of
the mind," and immediately adds: "We cannot act any
longer on such principles."

No wonder if "mind gymnastics" appear a somewhat
weak instrument to a Prussian sovereign whose power was
constituted by strength of arms. It was not by means of
"mind gymnastics" that Prussia gradually absorbed the
whole of Germany and edified the essentially military power
which sways from Berlin ; neither is it " mind gymnastics"
which will maintain such a power.

And this is why the German Emperor very rightly com-
plains that the School has not given him what he expected,
politically, technically, and practically.

The failure of the German School system is therefore
complete.

School System Form Men? 21

II.

Things cannot go on thus. The Emperor is determined
that they shall be altered, and every one else has but to
make obeisance: is he not the Emperor?

What, then, is tho Emperor's will? what does he sug-
gest — or command — to solve the educational question, to
set the School right again, technically^ 2}racticallyf and
political} 1/ ?

From a technical point of view, his solution is simple,
but radical. He eliminates Latin from every educational
establishment except the gymnasium ; and we already know
that he contemplates some means of limiting the number
of gymnasiums. The gymnasium is the school reserved
for the higher classes and learned professions. Quoth the
Emperor : " I will not authorize the opening of any more
gymnasiums, unless cogent reasons are furnished for such
opening: we've got enough of them."

Again, whilst shelving Latin, he does not mince matters.
" Down with Latin composition, say I ; it is in our way,
and makcL) us waste our time. . . . We must change the
base of our education ; that base is centuries old. It is the
same old basis which did duty in mediaeval monastic edu-
cation, when Latin was taught with a little Greek."

I will not examine here tho big question of Latin;
neither have I a single word to say in favour of the way in
which it is taught and which yields such poor results, nor
of the exaggerated importance attached to it ; but I cannot
forbear pointing out that, technically, the only reform sug-
gested by the Emperor consists in suppressing: a purely
negative reform.

On the other hand, practically^ the Emperor's reforming
is not negative.

Does the German

As we have seen, practical results are the Emperor's
principal object. He means to have the young men pre-
pared for the " struggle for life" j he means to favour the
expansion of the German race abroad j he means to enable
the Germans to compete successfully with other nations in
the conquest of the globe. In short, he means to train
practical men, capable of shifting for themselves, and to
endow them with a knowledge of the world. You will re-
member that he regrets having had himself few opportuni-
ties of acquiring such knowledge beyond the horse-riding
of his youthful days.

Now, you would never guess what means he proposes
for realizing this magnificent programi^e.

What would you think of a man who, wishing to teach
a child how to walk, should proceed to tie his legs securely?
or, wanting to reveal to him vast horizons, should shut him
up in a narrow ceV and carefully stop all openings through
which the child might peep outside?

Such is precisely the process which the German Emperor
has imagined. But here again I must quote, otherwise
you would refuse, and very rightly, to take my word for it.

" We must make the German language the basis of our
teaching. German composition is to be the essential sub-
ject. When a candidate for the B.A. degree furnishes a
German composition which requires no corrections, then
the young man's mental culture can be appreciated, he
shows what he is worth. . . . With Latin composition we
lose the time that ought to be given to German."

This is not merely the legitimate desire to give the Ger-
mans a thorough knowledge of their mother-tongue, but
rather an express wish to exclude everything that is not
German, a definite intention to taboo ail foreign elements,
all foreign knowledge.

The same speecii offers an odd proof of this : " I should

School System Form Men ? 23

have been best pleased, had the name chosen for these our
deliberations been the old German word schulfrage^ instead
of the hybrid, half- French word schulquete. We shall
therefore use solely the word schulfrage in future."

Some may see in this hounding of foreign words an ex-
pression of ardent patriotism. The following instance,
however, gives a better and more transparent interpretation
of the new conditions which the Emperor means to impose
on Education.

" I should wish to see greater attention paid amongst us
to the national element, in so far as History, Geography,
and Mythology are concerned. Let us begin at home by
knowing our home better."

Suspend your judgment for awhile; you will" find that
the " home" to be acquainted with is not the Old German
Fatherland, but that more recent Fatherland raised by the
Prussian Dynasty, and in which, nolens volens, the whole
German people are englobed. What the German youth is
to study is contemporary recent history — that is to say, the
history of that period during which Prussia gradually sub-
jugated the rest of Germany. That is what the young
generations must be taught, so as to be early inspired with
love and admiration of the present regiine. Neither does
the Emperor dally with words.

" When I went to school, the Great Elector was but a
hazy entity ; the Seven Years' War was already placed out-
side meditation, and History ended with the last century,
at the French Revolution. The ivars of 1813-15, which are
of the highest importance for every young German^ were not
gone through. Indeed, I was only enabled to learn those
things by attending extra and most interesting classes."

In the next few words the Emperor allows his final aim
to be apparent :

" That is the salient point ; why on earth are our young

Docs the German

men kept in the dark? Why is our government so much
criticized^ and foreign opinion so much heeded ?" This is
explicit enough; the Emperor's meaning cannot be mis-
taken.

Here is candour for you! Let Young Germany's atten-
tion be diverted from abroad, and concentrated wholly on
New Germany ; let the young men be taught to admire the
events which brought on the hegemony of Prussia; those
events are the " salient point. " By such skilful penning-
up of the German mind, criticism "against our govern-
ment" will be made to subside, and, as the Emperor further
says, " Our young people will take another view of contem-
porary questions."

Indeed a strong, special bias must be impressed on their
minds by bringing exclusively under their notice the heroic
period of Prussian history. Old Germany herself would
then no longer haunt their souls with the remembrance of
its long and delightful franchises.

We now know what the Emperor means by practical
education. He says, undisguisedly : " Gentlemen, I am in
need of soldiers; I am in need of a strong generation, cap-
able of serving their country. . . . We ought to apply to
the superior Schools the organization in force in our mili-
tary and cadets^ Schools."

Well and good. But will this organization enable Young
Germany to launch out into this real, work-a-day world of
ours — not the world where men kill, but the world where
men earn a livelihood? Will that organization make prac-
tical men of them, men fit for fruitful work, and full of the
resources required in the midst of the intense activity of
our time? Their power of initiative is what ought to be
developed — and the model set before them is that of Prus-
sian discipline! — the ideal offered them is the organization
of "military and cadets' Schools." Their minds ought to

Sch^ ol System Form Men ? 25

be opened, their horizon broadened, they should be ini-
tiated into all those enterprises through which a race ex-
tends its supremacy — not a military, but a social supremacy
— over other inferiorly conditioned races. Instead of this,
blinkers are placed over their eyes, so that they may be ig-
norant of the world of the past, and unaware of any but
their own immediate little world. Of all the magnificent
and instructive spectacles, they will only be allowed to see
the small episode of Prussian history. They will know
of the victories secured by the cannon, not of the victo-
ries won by work, perseverance, energy, initiative, and the
power of will!

There are in India fakirs who spend their lives crouched
in self -contemplation, with a conviction that they thus will
reach a superior state — the ultimate Nirvana. But even in
India, those misguided wretches are but exceptional phe-
nomena. The Emperor of Germany would seem to have
dreamt of putting a whole nation under that regimen, by
compelling it to contemplate a single spot in the infinite
universe — its solitary self.

It is for the German people to decide whether such a
dream is to become reality.

But this ought to open our eyes, for we are somewhat
familiar in France with that delu-Iad state which consists
in being shut up in a beatific and exclusive admiration of
ourselves, and singing to ourselves that we are " la grande
nation," that we are in advance of all other countries, etc.
We, too, are apt to believe, and to teach the young genera-
tions, that everything is to be dated from a recent epoch,
from the Revolution of 1789. Meanwhile, we do not per-
ceive that the world is going on, and going on without us.

If the reforms decreed by the German Emperor are nega-
tive from a technical and illusory from a practical point of
view, will they at least bear fruit politically ?

Does the German

It would indeed be a pity were it otherwise ; considering
that these reforms were inspired solely by political interest
— or what the Emperor believes to be political interest.

So he says : " The question now is to teach youth how
to preserve what we have gained. Nothing has been done
in this direction, and for some time now decentralizing
tendencies have manifested themselves."

This educational scheme is therefore conceived on pur-
pose to oppose these alarming decentralizing tendencies.
When once we realize this, the Emperor's whole speech
becomes dazzlingly clear and transparent.

Eor the imperial desire to be realized, the School ought
to possess that very power and influence which it lacks.
This deficiency on the part of the School the Emperor him-
self experienced — for is he not, after all, only trying to
strengthen a system of education already shaped towards
the glorification of the Prussian monarchy, and whose
Grand Masters and inspirers really were Emperors?

Consequently the Berlin gymnasium professors have pro-
tested against the Emperor's speech j they unanimously
expressed their regrets at the reproaches addressed to them ;
they maintained that they had ever " considered it their
Tnost sacred duty to teach youth the love of unified Germany,
and to prepare for the social order defenders capable of
'-esisting the action of revolutionary efforts.^^

Now, this system has utterly failed, as the Emperor has
just told us — forcibly enough ; and yet, in the very face of
that failure, he is attempting to accentuate the system I

The German Emperor will not succeed in obtaining the
desired effect, and moreover is running a great risk of ob-
taining the contrary result.

The system of education in favour with him can only
accentuate the inaptitude of the German middle classes to
seek a living in independent careers j for the Schools whose

program

to the I

T/ill ever

for life,''

and com

skilfully

man mid

tary and

to the ex

— the m(

large.

By stil
the new s
fort. Th
of the an
which su(
cation is
naturally
position,
opposition
alluded to
Nothing
ernments
local actio]
question w
it is assure
the action
way. The
If these
peror, he ^
criticism

* Vide La
Lea r^centes
IX., p. 426.

. School System Form Men ? 27

programme the Emperor has just drawn are meant to cater
to the needs of such ascending families : this programme
Tvill even increase their native unfitness for the " struggle
for life, " and their inaptitude to launch out into the world,
and compete with better-fitted rivals. M. Poinsard has
skilfully described * that inaptitude on the part of the Ger-
man middle classes and their tendency to invade the mili-
tary and administrative careers and the liberal professions,
to the exclusion of the money -making or usual professions
— the most useful both to individuals and to society at
large.

By still increasing the special inferiority of these classes,
the new scheme will create a state of suffering and discom-
fort. The State will be unable to keep (whatever the size
of the army or the number of officers) all the incapables
which such an unpractical and systematically limited edu-
cation is bound to produce. Those human failures will
naturally make the State responsible for their distressed
position, for such men are always ready recruits for all
oppositions. In consequence the symptoms of disaffection
alluded to by the Emperor will but increase.

Nothing could show better the organic vice of those Gov-
ernments where the sovereign is insistently intruding on
local action and personal activity. If there is indeed one
question which essentially concerns localities and fa aUies,
it is assuredly the question of Education. On this ground,
the action of the State has always been disastrous in every
way. The Emperor will see his experience repeated.

If these lines were to meet the eyes of the German Em-
peror, he would for a certainty be much surprised at the
criticism contained herein, for is he not convinced — at

*Vide La Science Sociale: "Les Allemands hors de chez eux.—
Le8 r§cente8 tentatives coloniales du gouvernement imperial," t,
IX., p. 426.

! -,

■:f1

"'^.

Docs the German

least he says so— that his educational programme opens
the new way whither nations aie tending? 'Tis the pro-
gramme of the future! I am not exaggerating.

At the close of the sitting, he uttered the following
words: "Gentlemen, the present moment is one of transi-
tion : we are on the eve of entering another century ; and it
has ever been an appanage of my House — that is to say, my
predecessors have ever made it their privilege — to feel the
impulses of the times, foresee the future, and be the leaders
in those movements whose diagnoses they had discovered.

*' I believe I have discovered the new tendencies of this
expiring cer^cury, and I am resolved, in the mat ter of Edu-
cation, as I was in the matter of our social reforms, to in-
augurate decisively new methods that are unavoidable, for
if we do not adopt now, we shall we compelled to do so in
twenty years' time."

One is surprised to hear such language from the sover-
eign who a minute before was reducing the teaching of His-
tory to an admiring contemplation of the military dt^eds
accomplished by his own ancestors — the sovereign who at
one and the same time suppresses Technical Education, and
renders the young generations of a great country powerless
to undertake that famous " struggle for life" which he has
just been trumpeting!

Yet, forsooth, this delusion leaves us un amazed : that is.
it is one natural in a Prussian. Prussia, that half Oriental
little nation of extreme Germany, was the last to take its
part in the concert of European States, if I may use the
jargon of diplomatists; it was the last to be constituted
into one of the great Powers; and, like that unpunctual
man who had been born a quarter of an hour too late, and
excused himself by saying that he had never been able to
make up for that lost quarter of aa hour, Prussia has al-
ways remained two centuries behind the rest of the West-

School System Form Men ? 29

ern world. On the banks of the Spree, Philip II. and
Louis XIV. are still aped most seriously, as though these
two illustrious dead had not been buried long ago with
their political regimes; and that which is really the distant
Past is decorated with the name of Future.

As we are on the subject of the future, the struggle for
life, the necessity of seeing tt Qie development of the Ger-
man race outside Germany, and the nations' competition
for the conquest of the world, it is interesting to examine
how the actual conquerors of the world manage to train
their young for that rough and magnificent fighting, and
how they secure a triumphant superiority. It will be seen
how utterly different is their system of education from that
proposed by the German Emperor.

i i

III.

While I was penning the foregoing, I was favoured with
a call from a friend of mine, anxious — like others — to
equip his son in view of the " struggle for life. " Strange
to say of a Frenchman, he does not wish to make of him an
official, nor Civil Service clerk ; he wants to enable him to
take care of himself. He is therefore a seeker, but more
seriously than the German Emperor, after that famous
Practical Education which is so much spoken of and so
little applied.

He obtained the programmes of a certain number of for-
eign Schools. One especially struck his notice, and he had
the happy inspiration to show it me. An analysis of this
will, I believe, be useful ; and I shall add to it other in-
formation which I afterwards procured directl}/ .

The School in question is an English training college for
young men wishing to start for themselves an establishment
abroad, to found in different countries those agricultural

r I

^4:t

Does the German

concerns by means of which the Anglo-Saxon race is grad-
ually taking possession of the world and elbowing out the
other races. This corresponds to what the German Em-
peror pretends to realize with his programme; but you will
see what very different means are employed.

This prospectus opens with two characteristic quotations,
placed on the cover. The first is from John Stuart Mill :
" It can be affirmed, without hesitation, that in the present
state of the world Colonization is the best channel in which
the capital of a rich and old country can be embarked."
The second is from E. Forster : " Emigration is becoming
more and more a necessity, not only for the working classes,
but for all classes."

The programme first states the end aimed at : the estab-
lishment is meant for young men desirous of receiving a
special and practical training destined to fill the blanks left
by the ordinary school education. Mark, however, that
English education is of itself very practical, as we well
know.* In short, the teaching professes to furnish the
pupils with the proper qualifications for undertaking with
success the " struggle for existence." The words are there,
as they were in the Emperor's programme.

The principals are in communication with all the colo-
nies, whence they receive the information which helps the
young men's choice as to the scene of their activity. A
great number of pupils have successfully settled abroad.

Details follow as to the situation of the School, and for
more concise information a plan is annexed, setting forth
its configuration and mental organization.

This college is established in the country. That is not
such a matter of course as it may seem, considering that
our Institut Agronomique is placed in the very centre of

* On this subject, see M. Bureau's articles in La Science Sociale, t.
IX., pp. 52, 256; t. X., p. 68.

Paris.

tween t
essentia
conditio
emigran
in the m

The

managen

tural sy

their res

farms, c

Religious

churches

After

course of

ter of th(

see that 1

cal end, 1

all the pr

to what ti

place is {

merely me

A whole

nently em

pupils in t

nization.

Katurall
personally
most impr(
that they r
relative va
disposal, si
the differen
bees is the

School System Form Men ? 3 1

Paris. The English establishment was built on a hill, be-
tween the sea and a navigable river on one side, and an
essentially agricultural district on the other. These two
conditions are somewhat more appropriate for preparing
emigrants than the agglomeration of the German students
in the midst of cities.

The plan shows the extent of the rural estate, whose
management is so *^aried as to offer samples of all agricul-
tural systems and produce. The different buildings and
their respective uses are clearly marked, cattle and sheep
farms, dairy, poultry-farm, workshops, boat-house, etc.
Religious interest is evidenced in the mention of two
churches situated in the vicinity.

After this preamble, the programme gives a table of the
course of studies, in which the eminently practical charac-
ter of the institution is strikingly apparent. We clearly
see that here is no aim to divert the School to some politi-
cal end, but solely that of equipping the young men with
all the practical information they shall need. Contrarily
to what takes place in our Institut Af/ronomique, the first
place is given to practice; the theoretical lectures are
merely meant to explain the work actually gone through.
A whole colony of labourers and mechanics arc perma-
nently employed in the establishment for training the
pupils in the different occupations made necessary in colo-
nization.

Naturally agriculture comes first. Each pupil enters
personally upon every detail of agricultural work. The
most improved implements are placed in their hands, so
that they may learn to handle them and to compare their
relative value. A vegetable and fruit garden is at their
disposal, stocked with all the better species, and where
the different raising methods are pursued. The rearing of
bees is the object of particular attention; indeed, nothing

^ t

Does the German

is Liore practical, for iu new countries, the bee lends valu-
able resources which often could but with difficulty be
otherwise attained: honey — which may replace sugar and
wax — used in so many ways. One part of the estate,
planted with trees, is utilized for the study of forestry, and
the programme points out the usefulness of such knowledge
for pupils who mean to settle in Canada or Australia.

The rearing of cattle is the object of particular care,
which is explained by its importance in most colonies ; it
is mostly with the rearing of cattle that a colonial estate is
started.

They therefore do not fail to state in the programme
that there are on the estate over seventy 'lorses and colts,
and that the college is famous for its fine breeds. Those
breeds are preferably used that are best adapted for work in
the colonies.

We are told that there are on the estate specimens of the
different breeds of horned cattle, sheep, pigs, and poultry.
The pupils are carefully taught their respective merits and
characters. "They assist the shepherds, and are made
familiar throughout the year with all details concerning
that important department."

The dairy is composed of fifty carefully selected cows.
It is provided with all the most recent improvements, and
methods are practised adapted to both hot and cold lati-
tudes.

But a colonist should be able to nurse his animals, as
well as himself, if they happen to fall sick. Therefore
demonstrations and practice iu veterinary art form part of
the daily programme.

The pupils are also taught horse-riding, and ride daily,
although there is no need for them, as was the case with
the German Emperor, to take that exercise in order to
acquire practical knowledge. But we all know that in

)WS.

and
lati-

as
fore
ft of

dth
to
in

School System Form Men? 33

many new countries, the horse is still the only means of
locomotion, the only means, too, for the survey and super-
intendence of a large estate.

Practical work is also done in surveying, levelling,
drainage, and irrigation, as sojourn on an isolated estate
requires a knowledge of all these subjects.

But it is not ::ufficient for a colonist to be capable of
working his estate; owing to the possibly great distance
of any urban centre, he should be acquainted in a measure
with the exercise of most industries, he must be sufficient
in himself for all his requirements. In fact, the task is
set of forming the most independpnt man that ever lived.

This eminently practical consideration explains to us the
second part of the School's programme, the work done in a
series of special workshops : —

A blacksmith's workshop, where the pupils are taught to
construct and fit the machines and implements of the farm,
to repair tools, shoe horses, etc.

A carpentering and wheelwright's workshop, where they
are taught the carpenter's craft, the repairing of their
vehicles, the raising of wood buildings, etc.

A saddle and harness workshop, where they learn every-
thing that pertains to that special industry.

To be fit for the kind of life which awaits them, these
young men are bound to possess a good many other capa-
bilities : they must be able to swim, to row and steer a
boat, to establish pontoons, and construct rafts. A coast-
guard, entrusted with the care of the School boats, teaches
these accomplishments. The programme says: "He
teaches them in addition the art of joining two ends of a
rope without making a knot." T like this preciseness of
detail: it shows these people's practical spirit, their love
of thoroughness, and that they have grasped the fact that
there is no useless knowledge.
3

^. *

Does the German

A man should also be capable of nursing himself and
others. " In this subject, so important for colonists, the
prospectus tells us that the pupils are instructed according
to the rules of the Association of St. John, on tirst help to
drowned people, on the appliance of diiferent sorts of ban-
dages, on the processes necessary for setting disjointed
or broken limbs, stopping hemorrhage; the treatment of
wounds, burns, and all other ordinary accidents."

Up to now mention is made only of tield or practical
work — such work, indeed, constitutes the essential part of
a training: the question here is not the formation of scrib-
bling clerks, but of men of action (struggleforlifers). Or-
dinary school-woTk is only incidentally mentioned, quite at
the end of the programme : " Instruction in School is merely
meant to explain the work actually gone through out-of-
doors."

Two hours a day (no educational hot-house this!) are
reserved for courses of theoretical lectures by the I'riucipal
and other teachers on agriculture, geology, mineralogy,
botany, forestry, surveying, mechanics, the veterinary art,
etc. In addition to this, letters written hy colonial author-
ities on all subjects which may be of interest to prospective
colonists, are read in public.

The programme is supplemented by twenty -five photo-
graphic views showing the different departments at work.
I regret I cannot reproduce them here, because the types of
young men thus taken unaware by the camera inevitably im-
press one as members of an energetic, practical race, accus-
tomed to effort (and not afraid of it) applied in right earnest
to work for which they only count on themselves after God.

And what makes this example characteristic is that they
are not poor fellows compelled by misery to expatriation,
but, on the contrary, they are young men belonging to rich
and well-to-do families, to that very middle class which the

School System Form Men ?

German Emperor wants to subject to his reforms. The
programme tells us this, and we can read it between the
lines in the fees charged — 2250 francs a year (Jb'OO) under
seventeen; 2700 francs (100 giiiueaii) under twenty; and
3160 francs (110 guineas) above that age.

These young men might therefore be tempted to seek at
home a calm and peaceful existence; instead of that, they
make ready, by assiduous practical work, to confront and
conquer the hardships which await the settlor in a new
country.

I have said that these young men have to rely on them-
selvijs alone. I find a proof of this in a document annexed
to the prospectus, which reproduces the speeches given at.
the last prize-giving by some men of mark who lend their
moral support to this institution — which, by the way, has
sprung frjm an exclusively private source, as is general
with all such establishments in England.

Most of these patrons have led, or are leading, colonists'
lives; and we hear with what stress they tell the young
men that they must expect to encounter numerous difficul-
ties, which each will have to surmount single-handed.
This prospect, far from discouraging the young men, seems
to act on them as a stimulus ; thaii is because the prospect
of difficulties to be conquered, which holds back the weak-
ling, is the best incitement for the strong.

Hear the language of one of these patrons. Lord Knuts-
ford: "You must be the hardest of task- masters to your-
selves; you will have to struggle against ill-luck; your
crops may be destroyed, your cattle may die, but do not be
cast down by misfortune. Get up again like brave men ;
fight on and repair your losses. Indeed that is the real
* struggle for existence. ' " Such speeches are the inspirit-
ing music which may urge a race to the conquest of the
world — but not in Prussian fashion f

Does the German

.'! ^

Another orator, Sir Graham Berry, General Agent for
Victoria, expresses himself thus : " In all parts of the
world, settlements can be formed under the British flag;
wherever you wend your steps — from the coldest parts of
Canada to the hottest regions in Africa, or in Australia,
there will you find the flag which for the last thousand
years has braved battle and tempest. Now is your time
to think well what direction you will take, what particular
occupation you will choose; have it well settled beforehand.
Never hesitate ; be fearless ; be determined ; be persever-
ing. I believe an intelligent young Englishman need never
find himself in trouble as long as there are so many English
colonies open to him — as long as there is a chance to suc-
ceed there. I am no longer a young man ; forty years have
passed since I started for the colonies without any of the
advantages which you have : unknown, burdened with but
scanty capital, little technical knowledge, and not one
friend in the country I was going to. Yet I became Prime
Minister of that colony, and thrice have I presided over its
Parliament. "

When we think that not only the pupils of one college
but really a whole nation are brought up under such
methods, and launch out into the wo.ld armed cap-a-pie
with such practical power, then we can understand a good
many things.

Then we can see who are the men who have a right to
call themselves the masters of the future, and who are
bound to become the masters of the world ; then we can
feel that our sons ought not to be brought up under Ger-
man, but under Anglo-Saxon methods, unless we wish them
to be ousted and crushed as completely as mere Bed
Indians.

Figure to yourselves, indeed, one of the unfortunate
young men trained in a German School to the mere con-

School System Form Men ?

templation of the Prussian monarchy, and of Prussian mili-
tarism — having as grounds of his education Prussian geog-
raphy, Prussian history (or rather that of the Prussian
dynasty), foreign to every practice of an independent life
— figure this young man suddenly brought face to face on
any point of the globe, in competition with one of the fine
fellows whose practical training we have just described!

Which of the two is really prepared for that future which
the new continents offer and make necessary for the men of
the Old World?

Which of the two will show himself capable of the origi-
native power which nowadays can no longer be the role of
sovereigns alone, but must spring from a whole race — as
proclaimed by the German Emperor himself?

I have compared two programmes : one from the most
powerful monarch in Europe, the other from a few private
persons. Perhaps the powerful monarch does not realize
that the only way for a sovereign to promote individual
energy is to withdraw his own personal action : private ini-
tiative begins where State intervention ends.

>& *

CHAPTER III.

DOES THE ENGLISH SCHOOL SYSTEM FORM MEN?

IF the social question could be summed up in one formula,
we might fearlessly say that the question is specially
one of Education. Upon the whole, the actual necessity
is that men should be adapted to the new conditions of the
world — which call on individuals to take care of their own
welfare. The old social framework, on which men for-
merly depended, is either broken or insufficient.

It is our luck, good or ill, to live at the time when this
troublesome evolution is taking place. Our present embar-
rassed position is wholly due to the contrast feh between
our archaic system of education and the newly arisen neces-
sities of social life : we continue forming men for a society
which is absolutely dead. It is extremely difficult for any
man to react against such an education. I do not know
whether my readers realize the fact, but for myself the
phenomenon is but too obvious. I make out distinctly
that there are two men in me ; the one, thanks to the scien-
tific study of social subjects, sees clearly what ought to be
done, and can discourse about it more or less learnedly ; the
other, imprisoned in his primary formation, and over-
whelmed as it were under the weight of the past, cannot
put in practice the inspiration of the better side, or can do
so only partially and witn difficulty. My head has entered
fully enough into the mode of Particularistic formation,
which develops the power of initiative, but the rest of me

The English School System. 39

remains stranded in its Communistic formation.* We
might well paraphrase a well-known line of Virgil, and
say : " how difficult 'tis to shake ofE our social forma-
tion!"

But what is difficult for such of us as are of riper age, is
not so for our children ; they are softer clay, and can re-
ceive and keep fresh impressions. Even if we are to be left
behind, let us help them to cross that Rubicon. Ay, that
is the great duty of contemporary heads of families ; those
who do not fulfil it fail in their most sacred obligation, and
will be severely punished for it in their sons.

Personally I wish to fulfil that duty, and I took advan-
tage of another sojourn in England to study more closely
and from a practical point of view the question of educa-
tion. I hope the present study may bring as much en-
lightenment to my eovfreresy the French fathers of families,
as it brought to myself.

Although English education is much better adapted than
ours to the new conditions of life, and succeeds better in
forming active, self -relying men, yet the English are more
anxious than we are to secure educational reforms. Being
more advanced than we are in the way of changing condi-

* Societies of a communistic formation are characterized by d ten-
dency to rely, not on self, but on the community, on tlie group,
family, tribe, clan, public powers, etc. The populations of the
East are the most striking representatives of this type.

Societies of a particularistio formation are characterized by a ten-
dency to rely, not on the community, not on the group, but on self.
Amongst them the private man {le '"'■ particulier^'' ) triumphs over the
public man. Anglo-Saxon populations are the most striking repre-
sentatives of this type. (See P.S. to Introduction to English
Edition.)

Cj *

Does the English

tioDS, they realize better than we do the necessity of keep-
ing up with the times.

This necessity consists essentially in forming young men
fit to shift for themselves in all difficulties and emergencies,
in turning out practical and energetic men, instead of
officials or mere scholars, who know of life only what they
have learnt in books, which is little enough in all con-
science. The product they endeavour to obt"in is exactly
what the conditions of social evolution actually demand —
men.

I was talking one day in Edinburgh with a professor of
the University of Dundee, on British education ; he said
to ]x 3 : " We expect to-morrow, at the Summer Meeting, a
man who is bound to interest you ; he is the founder and
principal of a School established in the Midlands, Dr.

R " I felt much astonished, next day, when we

were introduced to each other.

There is in France a classical type of the School prin-
cipal, of the teacher: most correct tenuey sombre-hued
garments, long dark frock-coat j the solemn, formal, con-
scious air of a man thoroughly convinced of his sacerdotal
functions; the gait slow, manner full of reserve, and a
habit of dropping sententious sayings fit for improving
the minds and souls of youth. Above all, dignity- — an ex-
traordinary amount of dignity.

The man who was shaking hands vigorously with me
was quite different. Did you ever attempt to figure to
yourself a pioneer, a squatter of the Far West? As for
me, I do not picture him to myself different from the person
of Dr. R Tall, spare, muscular, remarkably well-
made for all sports that require agility, suppleness, energy ;
and with all that, a costume that completes the whole to
a nicety ; grey tweed jacket with band round the waist,
knickerbockers, thick woollen stockings folded down under

V -^j ^

School System Form Men ? 4 1

the knees, big strong boots, and, lastly, on his head, a
Tarn o' Shanter cap. I am giving you these details, be-
cause I consider the man as a good representative of the
type of School whicl I am going to describe : such a mas-
ter, such a school.

The next day, which was a Saturday, when the classes

do not meet, we were parched. Dr. R and myself,

on the seat of one of those huge English omnibuses, on an
excursion in connection with the Summer IVIeeting. On
our way, and during the greater part of the afternoon, the
doctor was expounding to me the idea and plan of his
School, answering my questions and putting questions to
me in return.

This is the gist of his explanation. Contemporary teach-
ing no longer answers the conditions of modern life; it
forms men for the past, not for the present. The greater
part of our youths waste most of their time studying dead
languages for which very few will have any use later on.
They get a smattering of modern languages and natural
science, but remain ignorant of everything that concerns
real life, practical matters, and che structure of society.
Our system of games is as much in need of reform as our
methods of tuition. Athletic overtraining is as much a
reality as over-cramming. What makes the reformer's
work difficult is the fact that our Schools are under the in-
fluence of the Universities, for which they prepare a cer-
tain percentage of the pupils. I^ow, the Universities, like
all old corporations, hardly have any responsibility; and
an invisible and intangible spectre hovers above the chan-
cellors, masters, principals, and professors : it is the spirit
of tradition and routine, which has more power than
authority itself.

Good. But how does your School manage to modify this
system?

Does the English

Our aim is to achieve a harmonious development of all
the human faculties. The boy is to become a complete
man, so as to be capable of fulfilling all the ends of life.
To achieve this, the School ought not to be an artificial
centre where there is no communication with life except
through books; it ought to be a small world, real, prac-
tical, where the child may find himself in close proximity
to nature and reality. Theory is not enough ; there must
be practice as well ; those two elements should be present
in the School, as they are around us. Otherwise, the
young man is condemned to enter a world entirely new to
him, where he loses all his bearings. Man is not a mere
intelligence, bat an intelligence attached to a body. We
are therefore to train the pupil's energy, will-power, physi-
cal strengtk, manual skill, agility.

As the doctor went on, I could perceive gradually the
general idea which inspires and pervades his work; but
to me this idea was somewhat confused and hazy. I asked
him to describe for me, in detail, the employment of
a whole day. The School time-table and other details
(to which I will return presently) completed the informa-
tion.

Our excursion was to end by a visit to the old church of

D , whence we were to go and have tea at the house

of a large landowner of the neighbourhood, Mr. B

This gentleman, who for the last three years had attended
my lectures at the Summer Meeting, and who is a reader of
La Science Sociale, had had the courtesy to invite me to
stay at his house over Sunday. I asked him whether he

had heard of Dr. K 's School. He said that he had

visited it, and that his eldest son, aged thirteen, was to
enter it as a pupil in about a month. He had not been
content with visiting it, but had referred to parents of
pupils, and their opinions struck me by their unanimous ap-

School System Form Men ? 43

preciation of the results attained. But judge for yourself
from the letters : —

"Dear Sir,

"... My son, aged fifteen, spent eighteen months

in the A School ; he improved more there than he

had done in any of the other schools he had been to. He
profited morally and physically, and I was more than satis-
fied with the results. Dr. K is a man of strong in-
dividuality, and a born teacher. I consider the methods
and principles of the School excellent. My son liked the
School and the work very much, and I believe this to be the
general feeling amongst the pupils. The moral tone of the
School is unexceptionable, and 1 am sure you cannot do.
better than send your son there."

"Dear Sir,

" In reply to your letter I have much pleasure in
answering your inquiries.

" We have two boys at A , and both have imp 1 - "^ed

much in health during the time they have been there.
They write us that the last term has passed very quietly,
and that they are quite happy. The mode of life there is
a very healthy one. The boys are taught to rely upon
themselves so as to become independent. The moral tone
of the School is good; and the pupils, as far as I can judge,
belong to good families.

"The relations between masters and boys are cordial.
One of the teachers spent Christmas with us, and we were
struck to see on what brotherly terms he was with our boys.
The latter seem to like all their masters.

"Our eldest son is progressing rapidly in his studies.
The second is more backward, but we fiud him much
brighter, and both have become more active. The School
methods encourage individuality.

• I

Does the English

"There is no denominational teaching, but morning
and evening prayers are gone through ; besides that, the
boys attend the parish church. We are Congregationa-
lists, and the boys are always happy to return to their
chapel.

" We hope soon to send another son to the School ; but
he is too young, being only eight and a half. .

\. ^

"Dear Sir,

" I am able to answer with the greatest pleasure

your inquiries anent the A School, as my son has

been there for the last four terms. He feels very happy
there, and is thriving. You may have realized, from the
prospectus, what the aim of the School is. The classical
teaching is not too prominent, but they teach modern lan-
guages and everything that may prove of use and perhaps
necessary to the boys in after-life. Morals and health are
particularly looked after.

" The food is excellent and varied ; quite different from
the food generally served in Schools.

" The principles advertised in the prospectus are rigor-
ously adhered to by its Director — a man of very decided
miud and character, and at the same time full of sympathy
for young people.

" The number of pupils being limited to about fifty, each
boy can be studied and carefully trained. I spent a couple
of days there, and was greatly impressed by the pleasant-
ness of the life.

" I see no fault in this system of education, unless it is
— and you may perhaps think that is no fault — the absence
of any denominational teaching of Scripture.

" The house is healthy and comfortable. J. may add that

the masters are pleasant and cultured men. Dr. R

evidently makes a point of engaging gentlemen of high and

School System Form Men? 45

refined characters, who may influence the boys for good.
Several amongst them are accomplished musicians."

The opinion expressed by Mr. B , and the testi-
monials here recorded, induced me push the inquiry
further; here are the results of m}^ Jr ^estigation.

II.

The School founded by Dr. R was opened in

18(S9, at A , in D — shire. It is situated in the open

country, in the middle of a rural estate — which is, as we
shall presently see of essential importance to this new sys-.
tem of education. 1 e prospectus takes good care to men-
tion that " there "s l large town in the immediate neigh-
bourhood. "

Although of rt ent date, this institution has already
given birth t brother School, constituted on the same

principles, by one of the A teachers, Mr. B ,

who was trained by Dr. R ; it is situated in the

south of England, at B , in Sussex. I have before

me an article in the Review of Eevieivs which, under the

title, "Two Experiments: A and B ," gives

a pithy account of the tv/o Schools, with illustrations sup-
plementing the description. Moreover, I have recently

made two stays at the B School, and was thus able

to study its working in the minutest details.

The two Schools are most unlike our own cold, bare
school-buildings; they are comfortable English country-
houses. They produce an impression of real — not artifi-
cial — life; they cannot fail to remind the inmates of their
own homes — not of a barracks or a prison.

Instead of our French narrow yards, shut in between
high walls, all round is air, light, space, verdure. The

Does the English

first exterior view is that of a pleasant residence, and it has
not yet been proved that a School ought to present a for-
bidding appearance.

The same effect prevails when you get inside. The

B diuing-room, for instance, is quite a family room —

cheerful and comfortable ; the table is elegantly laid, the
cloth snow-white J the furnituro is good and artistic; a
piano, pictures, statues, easy-chairs betoken an equal ap-
preciation of the pleasant and the useful. Compare this
with our detestable French school refectories, and one is
struck at the outset with the difference between the two
systems of education.

The feeling will be intensified when I add that the mas-
ters, the principal and his wife and daughters have their
meals with the pupils. It is family life. Here the child
is not violently withdrawn from his ordinary surroundings,
and transported into a special and thoroughly artificial
world; he has merely passed from one home to another.
As the prospectus says, " This School is a homey not merely
a place for teaching."

Such is the frame ; let us now gaze at the picture.

I believe the simplest way is for me first to reproduce
the time-table, and then enter into the principal divisions :

6.15 a.m. (7 o'clock in winter) The pupils rise and partake of a
light collation.

Drill.

School -work.

Chapel.

Breakfast (this is a serious breakfast, d VAnglaise, com-
prising bacon, eggs, etc.), after which, tidying of the
bedrooms : each pupil is expected to make his bed.

School -work.

Light lunch ; if weather permits, exercise of the lungs
in the open air (naked to the waist) .
11.15 ,, School- work.

6.30
6.45
7.30
7.45

8.30
10.45

1 1

School System Form Men ? 47

12.45 p.m. SInHng or swimming in the river (according to season).

1.0 ,, Dinner.

1.30 ,, Organ or piano practice.

1.45 ,, Games and garden -worlc, or wall^ing, cycling, etc.

4.0 ,, Practice in the worlisliops.

6.0 ,, Tea.

0.80 ,, Singing ; dramatic or musical rehearsing, etc.

8.30 ,, Supper and chapel.

9.0 ,, Bedtime.

The chief impression in reading this time-table is pro-
duced by the variety of exercises which make up the day's
work. You can trace a purpose in avoiding every kind of
"forcing," at the same time developing simultaneously all
natural aptitude ; thus we have scholastic, manual, and ar-
tistic instruction.

Here is how the day is spent : —

Intellectual work „ 6 hours.

Physical exercise and manual work ... 4^ ,,

Artistic worli and indoor recreations ... 2^ ,,

oic>(' yy •■■ «•• ••• ••• ••• V

Meals and spare time 3

Total ... 24

• *

»•

We may add that on Sunday there is no work, the boys'
time is their own.

In fact, each week is divided into three distinct parts :
the morning is especially reserved for intellectual work,
actual school-work ; the afternoon is kept for manual work
on the estate or in the workshop ; the evening is conse-
crated to art, music, and indoor recreations.

Let us try, by examining in detail these three divisions,
to gain an insight into the working of the new School and
its likely results.

The school-work is actuated by the following objects:
" Make the pupils intimate with the things as well as with

Does the English

the names of things, so .is to proceod constantly from thn
concrete to the abstract. Teach the young men to use tlie
knowledge they liave acquired, and instil in them a wish
to learn for their own sake, without the stimulus of rewards
or prizes."

It is a very common opinion in England and in America
that the tendency to promote hard work by means of emu-
lation is a mistake; it makes the pupils' progress a mattei
of mutual jealousy, developing thereby a bad side of humnn
nature, whereas work and progress ought to be considered
simple matters of duty. In order to transform boys into
men, we should treat them as men, by appealing as much
as possible to their consciences. "Such a method," says

Dr. K , "far from diminishing the boys' interest in

their work, tends to augment it, because this interest has
then for its object not a reward, but the work itself. It is
not good that young people should be made to believe that
a prize or honorary distinction is the aim and end of their
education. They must be taught that life is no lottery,
and that the gratification of vanity is not all-important."

Our system being founded on wholly opposite methods,
I am much afraid such a view of the question may appear
very extraordinary to the French reader. However, Dr.

R 's views are shared by numerous English teachers,

who, in their educational forming of men, seem to achieve
very remarkable results.

According to a letter which reaches me from M. Bureau,
the Americans entertain similar opinions. I will quote the
remarks of the principal of the St. Paul (Minn.) High
School : " We never give our pupils any prizes, >ve never
make them compete among themselves. Ko doubt it often
happens that they work together at the same subject; but
when giving an account of the work of each, I take care to
express myself in such a way as not to indicate which of

; V

School System Form Men ? 49

the pupils has done best. T tell each one, * You have done
better — or worae — than on such a day;' never, * You have
done better than So-and-So.' I am of opinion that it is
bad for a boy to be able to say, * I am superior to another;*
he must be able to say, * I am superior to what I was a
week ago. ' "

The teaching of languages, especially modem languages,
takes an important place in the new School, and differs
markedly from the method generally in force. No one will
be astonished when I say that we study languages, but do not
learn them. Evidently our method is wrong. The method
employed at Dr. R 's seems to me more success-
ful. During the first two years, children of ten and eleven .
years of age are taught in English. Afterwards, for a
similar period, the instructor explains himself in French as
much as possible ; then, for another two years, German is
employed. Latin and — for those who wish to learn it —
Greek come at the end.

It will be understood, without my being insistent, that
such polyglot teaching is only possible Avhen a practical
method is adhered to, consisting, so far as modern lan-
guages are concerned, in learning to speak first, reserving
the study of grammar for a subsequent period, and even
then limiting its study to what is strictly necessary for
acquiring a practical mastery of the language. This
method, generally unknown to modern language teachers,
is that of Nature herself ; through it, without effort and
almost unconsciously, we have all learnt our mother-tongue,
but in such a way as to be able to use it, which surely is of
some importance. I have four children, the eldest of
whom is nine years old ; they are learning German on this
method — by talking with their governess; their progress
has been extremely rapid. After four months they not
only used German in their games, hi:, what is thequintes-
4

5°

Does the English

■•l< t'v:

sence of success, they quarrelled in German! They are
now learning the German grammar ia German, exactly as
they learn the French grammar in French. I have made a
point of citing this example, which is present before me,
to justify the method employed in the new School.

In order that the pupils may not forget the languages
learnt in preceding years, they continue using them in their
conversation for several hours every day.

The teaching of mathematics partakes of the sar n> prac-
tical character; pupils are required to work applications of
the theories expounded. They manufacture certain objects
on scientific principles; they go through surveying opera-
tions. They are furnished with the different bills and
memoranda concerning the expenditure on the farm, the
garden, the workshops, the games, stationery, the chemi-
cal laboratory, food, fuel, etc. They have to complete all
these accounts, enter them, make all necessaiy calculations,
verifications, etc. It will be granted that such processes
impart to abstract studies a peculiar interest ; their prac-
tical utility is obvious. Figures are made to live; they
help equally in teaching the art of the housekeeper, and
that of the industrial or commercial organizer. In short,
the School prepares practical men, and may be credited
with possessing a really social character.

The study of natural sciences begins vv^ith the direct ob-
servation of nature ; which is the easier here because the
School is in the country, and the children have not far to go
for object-lessons. They gather numerous specimens —
mineral, vegetable, and animal. Moreover, the habits of
animals and their appearance and characteristics are studied
before their internal organization ; the shapes and struc-
tures of plants are considered before their classification ;
the names and aspects of stars and planets before the laws
governing their motions. Excursions (on foot or on cycle),

t; V

School System Form Men? 51

which we have seen mentioned in the time-table, offer ex-
cellent opportunities for observation. Science thus becomes
more natural, more intelligible, more attractive; it reaches
the mind more easily, and is absorbed more deeply. Study
thus breeds no disgust — as too often is the case with our
own methods ; but scientific curiosity has been awakened,
and a desire for further knowledge is developed after the
boy has left school. History is taught on a method similar
to that advocated for social science. To create interest in
the work, the School relies mostly on " the observation of
causes and effects in the characters and movements of the
drama, rather than on taxing the memory with whole series
of facts and dates." Great importance is attached to the
study of the physical character of a country, and its rela-
tion to its political and commercial development. They
begin with the history of England, then proceed with some
characteristic period of universal history. Thus, with
Greek history, the origin of our social systems is inves-
tigi*ted; with Roman history, they examine the type of
State whose huge public powers most favour the foreign
expansion of a race.

Up to fifteen years [of age the teaching is the same for
all pupils ; after that it differs more or less according to the
profession chosen for each boy. More time and attention
are given to different subjects, according to whether a pupil
is destined for one of the Universities, for a professional
career, or whether he chooses as his vocation agriculture,
industry, commerce, or colonization. The suppleness of
the programme, the absence of a uniform groove into which
all the students are expected to adjust themselves, is not
one of the least remarkable points in the management of
the School. The teaching is adapted to the pupils — not
the pupils to the teaching.

Upon the whole, the dominant idea in the programme is

Does the English

a determination never to separate practice from theory, and
to impart to the pupils as far as possible an education that
"will really be of service to them in the conduct of their
lives.

III.

The different courses of study just enumerated occupy
the three morning classes. The afternoon is almost wholly
given to manual training and physical exercise ; the educa-
tion of the body following that of the mind. Considering
the sovereign contempt of the body evinced by our educa-
tional system, this part of the programme will, no doubt,
astonish our French fathers. I met lately a boy of nine, a
pupil at the College Stanislas in Paris, who after working
all day at school was yet obliged to study at home every
night until nine or ten o'clock. Such overwork is not only
disastrous for health, but equally so for the studies them-
selves; it rests on the mistaken belief that a person learos
in proportion to the time spent over his books.

The afternoon (1.45 to 6.0) is devoted to garden- work,
the workshops, or excursions (afoot or cycling).

" Our aim, " says the programme, " is to develop physical
education, a knowledge of and interest in industrial occu-
pations, energy of enterprise, and the exact appreciation of
any accomplished work — whether that work is to be done
by the pupil's own hands, or only superintended. Many
breakdown 3 in life are caused by bodily weakness: our
boys are tnerefore drilled daily, they take plenty of exer-
cise, and are put to some manual work every day. This is
necessary for invigorating the body and diminishing its
sensitiveness — which arises mostly from mental overwork
and a too sedentary way of living."

This shows again an intention to enable the pupils to
accomplish work which may have a practical purpose and

School System Form Men ? 53

be of actual use in real life. In fact, the boys have almost
built and organized their School ; like Robinson Crusoe in
his desert island, they have themselves produced a good
part of the objects that surround them and which they use
and enjoy.

At the foundation of the School the garden was a wilder-
ness of weeds, the farm a waste of rubbish. The boys
took it in hand. They made pathways and established a
whole system of drainage. They tarred all the gates and
railings, painted the woodwork and buildings, and prepared
and enclosed a football ground. In the workshop, where
they are taught carpentry and the rudiments of the joiner's
craft, they have manufactured a considerable number of
the articles of furniture in use in the house.

Among different objects manufactured by the pupils in
the workshop, I note a table, a chest of drawers, a diver's
apparatus, a duck-house, a pigeon-house, a wood-shed, two
boats ; and another boat is actually on the stocks.

During a farm labourer's three-days' illness, some pupils
volunteered to do his work, and take care of his cattle —
and did so. Others, wanting to become joint-owners of a
horse, went to the fair and purchased onej older pupils
taught them to ride and drive him.

In the summer, garden and farm work naturally assumes
great importance ; cricket and tennis take the place of foot-
ball ; cycling and photographing expeditions occupy all free
afternoons.

As I am writing, I receive a letter from Mr. B ,

who has just taken his son to A , and is kind enough

to tell me what he has seen there.

" When I arrived, " he writes, " several boys were busy
with their cricket belongings, manufactured by themselves
the preceding year. They talk now of building another
bridge over the river, which is thirty or forty yards wide;

Does the English

!'■

the pillars will be made of masonry , ^c. ay to offer more
resistance to tl • Gli.vri. The wh-^^- will be done by the
pupils.

* There is a lit de woo Je J valley that extends from the
grounds to the school buildings, which latter stand on an
eminence about a hundred ieet above the river level. A
tiny brook follows the bottom of this valley, which the
boys have utilized in the construction of several little ponds
or reservoirs connected tcciiether. All clearing away was
done by them, save where the intervention of the masons
was judged absolutely necessary.

" There is also a project of adding to the school build-
ings until they are capable of containing one hundred

pupils, the extreme number which Dr. K thinks it

possible to direct in a thorough manner. As preparatory
work, the pupils will make a survey of the ground and
draw an exact plan of the esta])lishment.

"Close to the houi.e, there is a temporary chemical
laboratory, and a c^^penter*s workshop, where the boys,

under the supervision of Herr N (whom you met in

Edinburgh), accomplish varied work either for their own
personal use or for that of the School. It is intended, next
term, to undertake special work in wood, on the Slojd pro-
g^'^^sive method, which you have seen worked at the
Sub. Jier Meeting.

" Inside the house I note the absence of all useless lux-
ury, whilst all rooms are furnished most comfortably. At
lunch, I was struck by the happy looks of the boys and
their lack of bashfulness. They were seated round half a
dozen tables, each presided over by a master. The prayers
at meals are sung with vigour and enthusiasm.

" The frankness and confidence of the boys towards their
masters is very remarkable. The latter are in the habit of
going about and behaving with the boys rather like elder

broth (
stantlj
at tim|
in ap]
mastei

initiati
instanc
them v|

Sue]
an elei
of pia
they al
degree
fully tl
underst
precise]
— the a

"We
boys' g:
erly no\
to good
growth
and dui
velopuK
our reg
True th
ness ani
portant
quired ;
are inte

Here
weight,
gains d

School Svstem Form Men ?

Tht'Y aie con-

^e. aiKi even

brothers than persons of a different ^evel.

stantly ny>ing Llie Same oxpfessioii3 jf 1 .n*^i

at times the same slaxig as the boys. Tl ■> (.nlv Cii'tinction

in appearance is a sort of a^adeujiO loba vi rp. by the

masters.

"... Dr. R considers it an irnporijmt point to

initiate the boys in a knowledge of otrtside business ; for
instance, he sends them on very serious errands, trusts
them with the drawing of money from the bank, etc. . . ."

Such ordinary occupations and manual tasks are not only
an element of education, a means of acquiring a quantity
of practical knowledge which theory cannot impart; but
they also develop the body and gradually train it to the.
degree necessaiv for men who will have to confront success-
fully the difficulties of life. It will therefore be readily

understood why Dr. R wished to ascertain very

precisely — in fact, with an almost mathematical exactness
— the actual results obtained from this point of view.

"We wished," he says, "to ascertain the rate of the
boys' growth, so as to make sure that thf ir bodies are prop-
erly nourished and that their way of living is favourable
to good health. To this effeol v.e nifuie out the rate of
growth of ei;,ch boy whilst at ti. Mchi'ol on the one hand,
and during the holidays on the v sher. If the corporal de-
velopment had been less during the sojourn at the School,
our regime obvio^ ly Ought to be ( 'lusidered defective.
True that our scu.os do not register the degree of supple-
ness and agility acquired by our scholars; but it was im-
portant to make sure that these qualities had not been ac-
quired at the 'xpense of others. The results registered
are interesting."

Here follow two comparative tables, one relative to
weight, the other to size, stating in both cases the boys'
gains during the school and home periods respectively.

4 !

i I

Does the English

From these it appears that the increase was greatest during
the school period.

In fact, this circumstance should surprise no one, for the
mode of life we have just described is eminently favourable
to physical development. "Without making too much of

these figures," Dr. R goes on, "they at least prove

that in our School — thanks to our system of food, of dress,
and of living — strong and sound men are made. We've
had to deal with little illness; even mere headaches and
colds are unf requent here. Our mode of life teaches young
men that good health ought to be the general rule, and that
disease is the consequence of error, ignorance, vice, over-
work, and misconception of what work ought to be. We
make it a great point for our pupils to be very careful in
their habits of cleanliness and personal hygiene." They
bathe daily ; each boy has his tub at the side of his bed.
I make of this a point of comparison with the practice of
our Schools, where water is so sparingly allowed that it is
almost an article of luxury. We are quite as sparing of air

as of water; at A and B the boys sleep with

open windowS;, summer and winter alike.

IV.

What with school-work, which fills the morning, manual
work and physical exercises, which occupy the afternoon,
we have now reached G p.m., tea-time. There are still
three hours left until bed-time. How are they employed?

According to De Bonald, " man is an intellect served by
organs :" we have just seen how the morning was employed
in developing the former, and the afternoon in developing
the latter. But man has other attributes ; he is a sociable
being. In order, therefore, to entirely develop the man he
should be trained in view of this sociability, he should be

School System Form Men ? 57

taught good manners and rendered capable of giving and
taking pleasure in the company of his kind.

The last three hours of each day are devoted to forming
the " sociable man." The process is interesting to examine.

"Our aim," said Dr. R , "is to accustom our

young men to be neither awkward nor shy, and to enjoy the
company of their elders. So every night they gather in the
drawing-room, to meet the ladies of the School and our
visitors. The room in which our evenings are thus spent
has been arranged so as to give an impression of happiness
and harmony; the furniture, the pictures, the statues were
chosen with this end."

From six to nine, the School is thus transformed into a
family drawing-room ; but mere conversation is not the rule,
they also play and sing, rehearse comedies, give concerts,
etc.

Music, indeed, forms an important feature in this School.
The prospectus says : " Music is one of our chief subjects.
Every week we have a musical soiree, and every evening
some jjicino performances. The boys feel greatly the
effects of this. There are here as many violins as cameras."

For the dramatic performances, the pupils have them-
selves constructed a theatre. These exercises are not only
for amusement, but are considered as a serious means of
education. One evening weekly is given to reading the
works of Shakespeare.

We shall give a very complete idea of this side of the
school life when we add that there are two Debating Clubs
m the School, and that the pupils have their school Maga-
zine (illustrated). "This publication develops literary ex-
pression and artistic skill ; moreover, it gives the boys an
idea that their School is a complete little world."

Another element which also contributes to promoting ar-
tistic feeling is the school Museum, in course of formation,

Does the English

and which already includes some copies of the old masters,
sculptures, specimens of beautiful furniture, etc.

The day, which began with a visit to the chapel, ends
in the same wt.y. However, the School professes no con-
formity with any particular sect; religious practices are
wholly undogmatic and unsectarian. At chapel, as in the
prayers which precede meals, the services are limited to
reading out of the Bible, hymns, and prayers of a general
religious character. However, as the Sunday is a holiday,
the boys are at liberty to attend their own particular place of
worship in the neighbourhood. Thus several pupils, who are
Koman Catholics, attend mass at a church not far distant.

Concerning religion, the prospectus says : " Religion per-
meates our whole life, and life should indeed be saturated
with it. We do not present religion to children, as a por-
tion of our daily life, but as a harmonious whole which is
to penetrate us thoroughly, whatever sect we may belong to.
During a quarter of an hour, morning and evening, we meet
together to express faith and hope with exterior signs."

Such is this School, and such is its programme. It is
an extremely interesting School, insomuch as it seems to
me to mark a stage in the evolution of a system of educa-
tion better fitted to the new conditions of social life. In
its practical character, in its chief aim to form the man,
the whole man, and develop all faculties and the full power
of personal energy and initiative, this School presents a
striking contrast to all our modern systems of teaching.

It is an example of skilfully taken bearings in the direc-
tion of the Particularistic formation which 13 actually tak-
ing possession of the world. For a new world a new edu-
cation is needed, one that may train a man to rely on
himself alone, rather than on the community or any group ;
one that may lead a man to look always to the future, in-
stead of the past.

School System Form Men? 59

I was talking one day with a friend about this new
School. He said: "This experiment is most interesting;
but there is here, in my opiuion, a grave fault: the school
is an internat.^^

Now, the ^^internat" such as prevails in France is in-
deed an institution equally unhealthy for the body and for
the mind: large barracks, enclosing hundreds of closely
penned-up children, subjected to the narrowest discipline;
every initiative on their part restricted or crushed. A
system lit, perhaps, for the formation of a soldier or offi-
cial, but certainly fatal to the development of virile energy,
spontaneous action, and the consciousness of personal
worth.

It would be a gross mistake for any French person to
imagine that there is any similarity between French and
English boarding-schools {internats). Let us beware of
the treachery of names ; the same name is frequently ap-
plied to very different things. At A , the number

of pupils is limited at present to fifty, and will never be more

than one hundred, as stated by Dr. K , who knows

that educating a larger number under one roof is an impossi-
bility. Moreover, when his pupils quit their families, they
enter another family — that of their principal, in whose
company they take their meals and whom they meet every
night in the drawing-room; it i^, so to say, a magnified
home life. Then, the boys' separation from their own
families is nothing like so complete as among us ; holidays
are more numerous and longer ; seven weeks at Midsummer,
four weeks at Christmas, three weeks at Easter. The boys
are therefore amidst their own people, for three and a half
months every year^ at varying periods, and are never quite
outside hone or family influence.

1 {

Does the English

Each type of society has its own modes of education, and
produces a scholastic system adapted to itself.

Societies of a Communistic Family formation are charac-
terized l)y the grouping of sevi ral couples into one house-
hold : this type is that of tlie less progressive populations
of the East. There, the children do not rely on themselves
for their establishment, but on the family community,
which will keep them or welcome them back if perchance
they have left home and failed. In these conditions little
personal instruction is needed, and only a minimum in-
struction is given : the family, sometimes helped by the
priest, is sufficient for imparting it. "We know, indeed,
that these societies do not shine much in the matter of cul-
ture ; they are fully representative of education within the
family and by the family.

In societies of a Communistic State formation^ the large
public community takes the place of the dissolved family
community ; here the young people rely principally on the
State for their establishment in life, through the many ap-
pointments which the State distributes in the army or the
different services. Most of the nations of Western Europe,
notably France and Germany, belong to this type. To ob-
tain these appointments examinations have to be passed,
which, in order to keep away the bulk of applicants, are
made stiffer and more difficult. The cramming system is
the result of such conditions, and it pervades all teaching :
scholastic " forcing" the process of mnemonic learning re-
sults in a mass of indigestible matter. There is no ques-
tion here of forming men fit to confront the difficulties of
life, but only of forming candidates prepared to face the
chances of examinations. The kind of School which most
readily springs from these conditions is the grand internat.
Here everything is sacrificed to the supreme and onlj'- goal
— Lxamination, tLe apparent end of the young man's life,

School System Form Men ? 6 1

towards which he is led by unceasing overwork. There is
every advantage in crowding within each of these huge col-
leges live hundred, one thousand pupils, or more; for it is
not the business of the masters to follow fiach individual
boy, to make a man of him, to fill the place of a father;
indeed, the master need not associate with his pupils in
any way. Really, in such conditions, the best master is
not the worthiest, the most learned, or the most clear-
sighted, but rather he that displays most skill in over-
cramming the boys in the shortest time ; he who is the
most up-to-date as to the tricks that succeed at exams., and
the best informed as to the fads and peculiarities of the
examiners.

The third type is that of aorietics of an Individualistic
forviation, of which the Scandinavian and English-speak-
ing races are the best examples; and among them education
is a very different affair. Here the individual relies for
his establishment neither on the family nor on the State,
which disposes of but few appointments, because public
powers are not much centralized, and do not employ a very
largo number of officials. Here the individual relies prin-
cipally on his own energy and resources to succeed in an
independent career.

The chief aim of education, in such a state of society,
must therefore be to develop these qualities, and form
practical men. For this, the School must needs preserve
as much as possible the atmosphere of the outside world.
The kind of school which best answers these conditions,
and consequently is most flourishing, is a school limited to
a comparatively small number of pupils; day schools for
families li/ing in towns, and boarding-schools for those
who live in the country. Even the latter tends to repro-
duce family life, which keeps the youngsters in touch with
the normal conditions of home.

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62 The English School System.

Obviously a division of schools into day and boarding
schools {exttrnats and internats), is inadequate; either
word may express in diametrically opposite social states
scholastic establishments of a totally difEerent character,
and giving absolutely contrary results.

From these considerations it appears that ihe great ob-
stacle to reforming our Schools in the sense just indicated,
is to be found in our social state, in our very customs and
manners, which urge our youth to embrace the ready-made
careers which can be entered only through examinations.
It might be supposed, then, that the new type of School pre-
sents for us but a platonic interest. It is by no means so.

As long as the numbers of candidates for examinations
were relatively limited, the young men could entertain
hopes of success after a fair amount of cramming; but
circumstances are changed. Nowadays our youth rushes
to the storming of the ready-made situations; the rank and
file of the people join in the melee; there are a hundred
competitors for every place. The examination is no longer
an open entrance to a career, but a high and almost im-
pregnable wall. To urge our children to go and break their
heads against a brick wall is hardly wise. In consequence,
the shrewder and more thoughtful among us are beginning
to look upon independent callings with less disdain. But
to succeed in such callings, precisely those qualities are re-
quired which are not to be expected from our present sys-
tem of education, and which are, on the contrary, devel-
oped in the highest degree by the kind of school we have
just described.

CHAPTER rV.

HOW ARE WE TO BRING UP OUR CHILDREN ?

OUR guiding principle in establishing our children, on
this the French side of the Channel, consists in gather-
ing for each, by dint of economy, a dot — a portion ; then
we marry them to consorts similarly placed as to fortune ;
and in time we have them admitted, if possible, into some
public office.

This series of processes is just now met by a new and
growing difficulty, expressed by the fall in the rate of in-
terest on money. From five per cent, it fell to four, and
now we can only obtain three. With such a rate of inter-
est, it is becoming more and more difficult to endow oue's
children.

Until now, this difficulty has been partly hidden, owing
to the abundance of money in France. We boast that
France is a wealthy country, controlling an enormous quan-
tity of bullion, which is quite true. In fact, the greatest
money market of the world is at present in France.

Unfortunately, this abundance of money at command
is not due solely to national money-earning; it proceeds
partly from factitious causes which cannot act much longer,
and which are in truth symptoms of decadence rather than
of prosperity.

This abundance of money was first caused by restricting
the number of our children. We know but too well that
the number of births in France is diminishing year by year,
, 63

How Are We to

and that, according to the last census, deaths are more
numerous than births, which is a very rare phenomenon in
the history of humanity. At the present time, France is
the only country in this plight.

Now, a small number of children in a family is an abun-
dant source of economy. If to bring up half a dozen chil-
dren, you spend, say, six thousand francs, you may bring
up one child at an outlay of only one thousand francs, and
thereby save five thousand francs per year. The French
practise this form of economy wholesale, with the result
that they generally can boast of more ready money than
populations given to rearing large families. This is actu-
ally one of the reasons why France represents the largest
money market.

But there is another cause, namely, the aversion shown
by the French for independent callings — agriculture, in-
dustrial pursuits, commerce. These professions are not
sought after ; we prefer administrative positions. All our
young men rush to the Government Schools, and the crush
at the doors is general. This is no exaggeration. Every
Frenchman who may have made a little money as a farmer,
a manufacturer or a merchant, has no brighter dream than
to retire, and make his son an officer or an official, or launch
him into one of the liberal professions.

In consequence, we have no tendency to trade with our
own capital. Our savings are invested, and whether in
stocks, consols, or stock exchange ventures, the money
is brought on the market. This is how our reluctance to
enter independent professions contributes to swell the
amount of unemployed money in France.

But the very factors which bring about this abundance
of money tend to diminish it yearly, and will end in the
near future by exhausting the supply.

Indeed, if the limited number of children on the one

Bring Up Our Children?

hand increases our savings, on the other it lessens the work-
ing or producing power. A father obliged to feed and edu-
cate six children has to work more, and consequently con-
tributes more to the public wealth than the man who has
but one child to look after. Moreover, young people who
are members of large families, and therefore unable to
count upon paternal resources, are naturally bound to dis-
play a greater disposition to personal effort, and more spirit
of initiative than an only son, who finds it but too natural
to count on his parents' help for his success in life.

On the other hand, if through our aversion to lucrative
occupations, we are induced to bring the whole of our
wealth on the market, the source of that wealth is stopped
by the very deed, for there is no other source of wealth than
agriculture, industry, and commerce. We are too much
given to forgetting that all other professions are but para-
sitical occupations, drawing the resources that feed them
from the three essential callings I have just named.

Some people may say, " Well, this will surely last our
time." But I am not so sure of that. At any rate, it will
not last as long as our sons' time.

Already many of those wretched young men, in spite of
the number of places, are kept away from them by the
endless lines of candidates who only meet with failure for
their pains.

And what are they to do now? What can they do?
What are they fit to do? For what were they fitted by
the education they received at the hands of the family and
at the School?

They were educated for an administrative career, or for
the army. They were repeatedly told that there was noth-
ing else respectable, nothing else worthy of their ambition.
Such is the order of the day, not only in the upper middle
class, but even in the more modest walks of life. In the

How Are We to

drawing-room, as in the shop and the farm, this same un-
reasonable prejudice flourishes, making the whole nation
as mad as March hares. Indeed, according to official re-
ports, for a single vacancy you may often count thousands
of candidates.

And the poor fellows go on waiting : they fill the admin-
istrative ante-chambeiE ; they try to move heaven and
earth; they complain aloud. One thing they do not do:
they do not manage to do something for themselves; they
never think of attempting some kind of independent work
which might easily be more lucrative, and in which they
certainly would find more dignity and freedom.

They do not do so, because they foolishly believe it to
be infra dig. To be an unsuccessful candidate for an offi-
cial post, youth and substance wasted by indefinite waiting,
seems to them not so despicable. They do not mind being
almost an official. The mere phrase — un fonctlonnaire —
has, alas ! a glamour about it in this official-ridden country.

They do not attempt to do something for themselves be-
cause they are powerless to do so. Our French training,
excellent for the formation of officials, is of no value in
forming independent, resourceful men, able to cope with
the difficulties of life. They are good for nothing but sub-
ordinate functions, the remuneration for which will be a
fixed salary, gained without exertion and payable monthly.
On entering, the man sees in advance his whole life. At
such an age he will be sows-cAe/ (second in command of .one
of the offices of a subdivision of a department) ; later he
will be chef de bureau; and later still he will get his re-
traite. The only date he does not seem to know is that of
his death. Of the chances of a man's life this is the re-
ductio ad ahsurdum.

We therefore cannot arrive at any other conclusion than
this ; That the education of our children must be on differ-

Bring Up Our Children?

ent lines if we wish them to be equal to the necessities of
the times, if we wish them to be enabled to fight for them-
selves in the social crisis which is just opening.

The universal character of this crisis requires us to make
a very clear exposition of the educational question as it ac-
tually presents itself.

The points are : The methods of transmitting to our chil-
dren the continuation of our work have to be altered. The
present methods no longer answer the purpose. We edu-
cate our children in view of their success in life, to the best
of our ability to this end, we employ those methods which
succeeded best with ourselves; and yet the results now
prove quite different, and often the very opposite of our
expectations. Some of our most serious, the most thought-
ful, most cultured, men, some of the best connected too,
are anxiously asking themselves this question : " How on
earth are we to bring up our children and successfully es-
tablish them?" (Indeed, they have cause to be anxious!)

Now, the teaching of social science bids us not to be
scandalized at such a state of confusion. Scandal is the
word to express the effect produced on the minds ; men are
ashamed, indignant at such a state of things. Some see in
it most uncanny signs : an evil spirit is alleged to be abroad,
conjured by the general cowardice and abandonment of all
good principles. Men become angry, and disposed to mu-
tual recrimination, and meanwhile they go on as in the
past, actuated by a conviction that we ought to return to
the old methods — and their failure is wholesale.

Social science teaches us a more just and more conclusive
appreciation of facts. By the analysis, comparison, and
classification of these facts we are shown that our world is
now passing, and necessarily, to a new condition which is
not ephemeral, but durable, by a transition between the
past and the future.

How Are We to

TbuB we are taught the causes, the direction, and the
ultimate results of this crisis, which iu some points is ex-
ceptional in the history of the world.

First, the causes — What are they? These causes are
derived from the continuous change in the methods of pro-
duction and transport — in other words, change in our means
of existence. Formerly, the places of production were
small workshops, often at home. The clientele was limited
and local. Work was done by hand or with small motors,
and methods of work were permanent and often traditional.
The father used to transmit them religiously to the son ;
of innovation there was little or none, and what there was
of it was exceedingly slow in its action. Competition only
existed between artisans of a neighbourhood, for the feeble
means of transport at command did not allow of any con-
siderable amount of export or import. Moreover, competi-
tion was made still less serious by a whole series of restric-
tive regulations which fixed the methods of manufacture,
the numb masters, workers, and apprentices.

Everyth ^ tended, therefore, to assure stability and
promote traditional methods. Hence an education directed
towards stability, tradition, and the past, was perfectly
adapted to the social necessities of those times. The re-
sults obtained were appreciated for a long period.

Social conditions are now reversed: production takes
place in large workshops with the help of motors of enor-
mous power, the clientele supplied is world-wide, and the
demand almost unlimited. The methods of work are sub-
jected to constant improvement, following the progress of
science. Innovation takes everywhere the place of tradi-
tion. Men must be ever ready to produce more, or better,
or cheaper, if they will hold their own against competition.
Instead of a calm, jog-trot kind of existence, it is life in-
tense and struggling. Moreover, there is no choice, no al-

Bring Up Our Children ?

le re-

ternative; the new conditions intrude themselves brutally
and must be humoured.

Now when human means of existence are modified, the
condition of humanity at large is modified ; and this consti-
tutes a social crisis — a crisis in the mears of existence.

The new situation was brought on by the sudden advent
of modern natural science, which will never say its last
word, and, as every one who has eyes can see, is now only
beginning. The world is henceforth launched into a
career of everlasting transformations, which cannot be
stopped. This cuts as off definitely from the past, when
things had some stability and even apparent fixity. The
question is how to be prepared to make the best possible
use of this evolution and guard against its temporary
dangers. Between the man of the past and the man of the
present, there is the same difference as between two sol-
diers : the one called to defend a citadel, the other sent to
the front for defensive and offensive warfare. The differ-
ence is total and complete. And there is in all this no evil
spirit or general cowardice, as is the gloomy refrain of
blind fault-finders ; there is a novel material situation for
humanity, ordained by Providence, which gave man the
progressive science of Nature. It is for man to accommo-
date himself to such progress, not only in his own interest,
but also as a matter of duty.

I have said that social science shows the direction as well
as the causes of the crisis, and the direction is very distinct
indeed. The crisis leads men towards a new state, in
which they are no longer to be enrolled as heretofore ; no
longer are they to count for their maintenance on any con-
stant surroundings, or on habits of life adapted to any per-
manent situation. These surroundings have long been
cracking around them, and are now subsiding and dissolv-
ing from the effect of the necessities just stated. Hence-

7°

How Arc We to

• \ i

forth any man educated and settled according to the old
enrolling methods is condemned to swift failure and ulti-
mate fall. Education, therefore — instead of fitting men
for enrolment and training them to rely on family surround-
ings, and transitory institutions — instead of forming them
for factitious administrative careers and promising them
these snug little berths in which there is demand for neither
effort nor initiative, and which might fail them at any time
— education ought to make our men fit to rely upon them-
selves in all emergencies, and quick to fall on their feet
after all accidents.

That system of education which tends to adapt the young
men to any institution, whether family or political, is bound
to fail; the only successful education is that which will
adapt the young man to his environment, and will train
him to make the best use of himself under any circum-
stances.

This is exactly the contrary of what we French have
been aiming at for the last hundred years. When speak-
ing about their children, French parents are wont to use
such language as this : " Oh, let them do as we did ;" or,
" A good family and many friends — that's enough to push
you on and settle you in life •" or, " What the boy wants is
a good appointment in one of the services, in the magis-
tracy, or perhaps in the army: such posts are safej the
boy will be free from trouble, and will meet with no ups
and downs;" or again, "We have enough, and our sons
need not worry ; they will have enough, too, with a safe
salary and their wives' dowry," and so on. Such language
we know but too well. Many of us have used it ourselves.

All this is beginning to sound singularly false to our ears.
No family connections, no friends, no public career, no
dowry offer nowadays any guarantee as to the future of
ourselves or children. There is nothing for it but to make

Bring Up Our Children ?

them capable aud strong enough (alas I that they should
not be so) to confront by themselves the ever-changing dif-
hculties of the struggle for existence.

Unfortunately, that is precisely what we feel very incap-
able of doing, because most of ud have been trained in other
ways. We simply do not know how to do it.

And yet the results make it worth while trying. This
new education will give us men, strong men, who will not
sink under difficulties, aud will not yield to them. They
will become Christian free agents who will rely on nothing
but their own capacity. There is the same difference be-
tween us, attached as we are to our surroundings — our own
world, as we often say — and men trained to self-reliance,
as there is between us and those savage tribes which are
converted en masse by the meio example of their chiefs.

Such are the causes, the direction, and the results of this
social crisis, whose portents affect education and the whole
world. Whether we like it or not, we shall have to pass
through it, and what we have to do is about the opposite
of what we have done up to the present time.

I shall be told, " That is all very well — but how are we
to manage it?"

In order to avoid all groping in the dark, all mistakes
and fiascoes, we must be guided by actual experience ; and
as we have had no experience at home, where education has
been on wrong lines, we must needs look for it abroad. We
must act like those peoples who have surmounted the diffi-
culty, and who bring up young men capable of shifting for
themselves independently of any family, friends, connec-
tions, or State aid.

Now, such peoples do exist, and unless we are blind we
are bound to see them, for they invade the world, clear the
land, and put it under cultivation, colonize it, and oust the
tenants of the old social regime, accomplishing the whole of

How Arc Wc to

the stupendous task by the might of private initiative and
the triumphant power of the self-relying individual. And
if one single example can give an idea, as I believe it will,
of the difference between men formed by the new methods
and men formed by the old (which unfortunately are still
our own), look at what they have made of Northern Amer-
ica, and then look at what the other race has made of
Southern America. It is the difference between night and
day, between light and darkness. On the one side, a for-
ward motion of Society, and the greatest known develop-
ment of agriculture, commerce and industry ; on the other,
Society thrown backwards, and plunged to grovel in a
morass of idle, unproductive town life, and given up to offi-
cialism and political revolutions. In the North we have
the rising of the future; in the South, the crumbling and
decaying past.

So true is this, that we already see Southern America in-
vaded by the robust offspring of the Northern races, who
gradually take possession of the rural estates abandoned by
Spanish and Portuguese incapacity; gradually they are
taking possession of the railways, the banks, industry, and
trade.

At the time of our last Universal Exhibition, I was talk-
ing of these things with the President of the Argentine
Republic section. He spoke of that invasion of the Eng-
lish and their brothers the Americans, and he lamented it.
He found fault with the invaders, as the weak always do,
because recrimination is easier than adopting the ways of
the strong.

Ay, such are the ways of those redoubtable competitors.
Their growing youth is not afraid of the strife. They are
the race which, through their training, can always preserve
their moral and religious energy. Their faith is not wholly
that of the Catholic Church, and yet there is not by far as

Bring Up Our Children

much infidelity amongst them aa there is here. Why?
Simply because they are more convinced of thef' '1 respon-
sibility of every individual man.

This is easily explained. In the old social system the
individual is sustained less by himself, his own will and
initiative, than by the proter^tive framework of Society,
whether it take the form of frtmily, school, regiment, office,
or the State itself. The props that sustain him in his tra-
ditions and beliefs — political, social, or religious — are held
up from outside, and there is no interior foundation for
them. In other words, the individual acts or thinks in such
01 such a fashion only because everybody else in his little
world acts and thinks in the same fashion.

Consequently this is what follows. As soon as the pro-
tective framework happens to subside, the man breaks
down. In the old society, the domestic, political, or social
framework was sufficiently strong and rigid to uphold even
enfeebled individuals — like those decrepit houses which
are only kept standing by the help of others on either side.
Look out, however, when the props are removed!

That is precisely what happened to our old social frame-
work, the debris of which now covers the soil. And as we
were unprepared to do without our props, we have com-
pletely lost our bearings. We call to our help all those in-
stitutions on which we had been accustomed to rely — the
family, the corporation, the State (Monarchy for some,
Republic for others), the Church — we cry to everything to
help us, and never think of helping ourselves ! We fill the
air with our complaints, instead of finding out the course
followed by those wjao rely on individual initiative, and
doing likewise.

How Are We to

Well, what course do these peoples follow in regard to
their children?

This is what they do :

1st Frocess. — They do not consider that their children be-
long to thenij nor that they are a mere continuation or sur-
vival j as it ivere, of themselves. They consider, on the con-
trary, that they are beings who presently will have to be
independent of them. Hence they have no greater anxiety
than to hasten their emancipation (since they must be
emancipated) under the best possible conditions. They
aim at nothing else; that is the form assumed by thdr pa-
ternal devotion. This devotion does not consist on their
part in absorbing their children, appropriating their per-
sons, and making them obedient, pleasant companions. In
the form assumed by our own paternal devotion there enters
a large jjroportion of selfishness — properly disguised selfish-
ness, of course. We have all seen such a thing as a mar-
riage put off because the young people would have had to
go — not abroad, but only into the provinces or into some
other towns. We are too fond of our children ! But do we
love them so dearly for their sake only or for our own?

^nd Process. — Among these peoples, parents treat their
children from tne very heginningj and ever after, as grown-
up persons, as separate personalities. By this they make
them responsible, original personalities. Treat people as
of some value, and they will endeavour to acquire that
value. We, on the contrary, treat our children as chil-
dren, not only while they are children, but also after they
have grown to quite a ripe age ; we cannot drop the habit
of treating them as children, because they are our children !

8rd Frocess. -—Among them, parents educate their children

's^W I

Bring Up Our Children ?

in view of future necessities; not up to the pasty but up to
datey up to the future. They do not propose their own past
careers and environments as models to their children. We
act as did those French noblemen of the last century, who
at the beginning of this century still brought up their chil-
dren as if for the olden time, for their former rank, their
vanished fortune, the Court — for vain memories, for ghosts
of memories.

4th Process. — Among them, parents study most carefully
the health (so do we — but we often sacrifice it to studies,
examinations, enforced dwelling in cities, and what not?) ;
they also endeavour to increase, as much as possible, the
strength, energy, and physical development of their children.
And they are not so foolish as to attempt to promote vigour
by an ever-training in physical exercises which would
weaken the body ; they go in for no gymnastic feats : their
comprehension of the normal conditions of physical life is
remarkable.

You are aware that an attempt is actually being made
here to import English sports and games, and substitute
them for our detestable regulation gymnastics, one addition
amongst others to our pedagogic methods, into which there
enters no interesting or spontaneous element. Again the
hateful restraining framework ! I know very well that this
following of the English games has not always been very
successful J that in this, as in a good many other things,
we may be displaying but a short-lived infatuation ; that
the games are conducted in a somewhat too administrative
fashion ; that many of our schoolboys yield rather to a wish
to avoid their school-work thau to any desire to improve
their constitutions. But at least from this imperfect copy
one can form some idea of the original. It is incontestable
that such games are eminently favourable to physical im-
provement, and contribute, moreover, to impart calmness

How Are We to

and self-possession, without which there is no success pos-
sible.

5th Process. — Among them, the children are very early
initiated into the practice of material^ every-day acts ; thus
there is no hesitation in letting them go about by them-
selves, trusting them with certain affairs, or commissions
within — and sometimes purposely beyond — their capacity.
This sort of thing astonishes a Frenchman on a visit to
England or America. English people, in their turn, are
astonished at our astonishment — so natural is the thing to
them, so essential a point in that system of education whose
aim it is to turn out men and not mere scholars or officials.

If I were not uneasy lest I might scandalize my reader,
I would add that those people treat their girls very much
like their boys, for similar reasons. But it would then be
necessary for me to explain a good many things to justify
this practice — for which we are unprepared in France, but
which over there presents more advantages than drawbacks.
But this would take me too far.

6th Process. — Among them, as a ruley parents have their
boys taught some manual trade. Indeed, they feel none of
that superb disdain which we entertain for manual work.
They have long ago shaken off that old prejudice which to
us has been more disastrous than a hundred defeats on the
battle-field; they do not believe that there are noble and
ignoble callings, but more correctly consider that some men
are capable and others incapable, some idle and others dili-
gent. So the son of a peer will become a farmer, a manu-
facturer, or a tradesman, without losing in anything; in
fact, this is happening every day. Yet I am mistaken;
there are two professions which they consider inferior to
all others, namely, that of a politician and that of an offi-
cial. First because it " does not pay" — as they say — to be
either, only tb highest posts being lucrative; and then

Bring Up Our Children?

because both rob a man of his independence. Those posts
axe therefoio not numerous, and generally left, in Great
Britain, to persons of Celtic origin, Irish, Scotch, or Welsh,
and in the United States to Irishmen and Germaas. My
friend, M. Paul de Rousiers, who went to America and
studied the States on our principles, has shed much light
on this fact in his remarkable work, " La Vie Americaine."

This tendency to teach boys manual trades is well in
keeping with their methods, according to which most pro-
fessions are learnt by practice alone, whereas our whole
teaching is done at the Schools. For instance, their engi-
neers are not trained in the Schools, but at the works.
Indeed, what is theory in all professions but the comple-
ment of practice?

The contrary is the case among us, where theory is given
the first place. Thus we have placed in Paris our Institiit
Agronomiquey which prepares officials for the Agriculture
Department ; and there is a proposal to transfer to Paris
our Naval School! • ;

7th Process. — Among them, the parents precede the chil-
dren in the knowledge of all tilings that are nev r>'>id useful.
How could it be otherwise in a society where the minds are
turned to the future and the unceasing improvements in
the usual professions, not to the past and the essentially
stationary administrative situations; in a society where
success is sought, not with the help of State machinery,
but almost entirely through individual initiative and per-
sonal worth? Hence there is a constant preoccupation on
the part of the Anglo-Saxon to gather solid, positive facts,
most often without much order or method, but yet facts of
value. That is what he requires from his newspapers,
which resemble ours as day resembles night. The aim of
our newspapers is to amuse, the aim of our so-called serious
papers is to raise political passions, which is another way

i \

How Are We to

of f, musing — that is to say, of wasting time. Their news-
papers, on the contrary, seem to have as their aim to give
correct and speedy information. Little theory, few general
observations — facts, facts, facts. Those two utterly differ-
ent forms of journalism would be almost enough to com-
pletely illustrate in what manner the two societies differ.

After this, one cannot be astonished to find that a father's
conversation with his children bears on serious, real, manly
topics. Their talk does not run on the world of fashion
(English fashion!), and Society tittle-tattle, nor on the
good old time whan life was so easy, so calm, so pleasant!
No, they vaunt the Struggle for Existence, and Self-Help.

8th Process. — Among them there is little display of pa-
rental authority; they reserve such display for exceptional
and extraordinary circumstances. Have we not said that
they consider their children as independent beings, and treat
them as men? Indeed, you cannot form men by keeping
them constantly under a yoke, even if it be the paternal
yoke. They think that real education consists not in con-
straint, but in what they call "training." They do more
by advice and gentle persuasion than by actual ordering,
and are careful to make their disinterestedness more ap-
parent than their authority. The child is allowed to digest
this process — and set to work.

9th Process. — The following, which I have kept for the
end, is the most fundamental and decisive process: The
boyc knoiv that their parents will not take care of their
situation in life. In France, we are accustomed to such a
question as this : " What will you do with your son?" The
serious answer is : " I'll make a magistrate, an official of
him, " or something of the sort. The man would not think
himself a good father unless he assured the future of his
son, and found for him whatever situation he (the father)
thinks most suitable. His devotion even goes the length

his

us.

Bring Up Our Children ?

of robbing himself of part of his fortune in order to endow
his children.

An English or American father does not portion his chil-
dren ; each generation has to take care of itself. Among
us, on the contrary, one generation is expected to provide
for the establishment of the next. And this is what
happens : —

You have, it may be, three, four, or five children. In
order to obviate your children going down in the social
scale, you have to make — in addition to your own — three,
four, or five fortunes, and that before your children have
attained their majority, that is, within about twenty years.
Otherwise, how can you get them married, since they will
be accepted mostly on account of their money? You know
that means working like a horse — enough, indeed, to " give
up the situation," which Is what so many French fathers
are doing with enthusiasm, by being content with having
only one or two children.

I was^ re-reading lately Franklin's correspondence. In a
letter to his mother he alludes to one of his sons, who,
probably relying on his father's fortune, showed little
eagerness to find a situation for himself. "He must be
disabused, " writes Franklin, " and shown that, at the rate
I am spending my money, tLore won't be any left for him."

You fire with indignation at the idea of leaving your
children no hereditary/ fortune. Your fatherly love revolts
at the thought. You are forgetting that the Anglo-Saxon
father, who gives no money to his children, gives them in
reality what is infinitely more than money ; he gives them
precisely what we are anxious to give, but cannot succeed
in giving to ours, — that devouring spirit of initiative, that
capacity to take care of themselves which we would fain
purchase with gold, and which all the gold we actually
put by so painfully, so meanly, only smothers. As a

=»■•

■/^*""

How Are We to

matter of fact, we go on saving, living as beggars, and
practising systematic sterility, so as to allow our children
to live without working, or by working as little as possible.
We fancy we are thus assuring their future. However,
look around you and see what men rise in the world, are
most successful in all careers, and everywhere get the best
places ; nine times out of ten, such men are parveiius, self-
made men, men who originally had to rough it, and who
only succeeded through their dogged perseverance and per-
sonal initiative. And now, look at the others, the Jils dc
familley thus named rightly because they rely more on
their families than on themselves, more on their parents'
fortune and prospective wives' dowry than on their own
work. Well, these fils de famille are sinking daily to the
very bottom; they are, as a rule, inferior to all in every-
thing, in spite of having received a " first-class" education ;
they have lost in this country all influence, all authority ;
they have made monarchy an improbability. Incapable
as they are of improving themselves by their work, they only
succeed in maintaining themselves if their case is that of
an only son, or through the instrumentality of a mariage
d^argent.

Young men brought up in the Anglo-Saxon way — that
is, made strong in their bodies, accustomed to material
facts, having always been treated as men, trained to rely
on themselves alone, and looking upon life as a battle (the
Christian view of life) — bring a superabundance of youth-
ful strength to cope with the difficulties of existence ; they
enjoy these difficulties, expect them, triumph over them;
fitted as they are for the strife, they improve in the midst
of it as in their element.

And now judge, compare, and come to a decision. I
have tried to show what are the hidden springs which
.mpye that race to thrj^at^n and invade ,the older and more

Bring Up Our Children?

decrepit societies. The miracle which is being accom-
plished by that race is that they are on the point of ousting
others with but a modicum of public power at their backs.
Where, then, lies their power? They can boast the strong-
est social power— and social force is bound to prevail over
all the armies and public powers of the world.

The great peril, the great rivalry, are not, as we think,
on the other side of the Ehine; militarism and Socialism
will spare us the trouble of getting rid of that enemy — and
that before long.

The great peril, the great rivalry, are on the other side
of the Channel, and on the other side of the Atlantic ; they
are wherever is to be found an Anglo-Saxon pioneer, an
Anglo-Saxon settler or squatter. The man is not much
considered, because he does not come, like the German,
along with big battalions and perfected weapons; he is de-
spised because he arrives with his plough and by himself.
This comes froii our being ignorant of what that plough is
worth, f.Ld what that man is worth.

When once we know that, we shall know where the
danger is, and at the same time where the remedy lies.

BOOK II.

THE FRENCHMAN AND THE ANGLO-SAXON IN

PRIVATE LIFE.

THE differences in education which we have just stated
are reflected first in private life. I intend to give in
this book a few examples taken from France and from Eng-
land.

Our French education compromises our vitality and our
social power j this is a double cause of inferiority.

On the other hand, English education and the whole
social atmosphere develop in the highest degree the capa-
bility of the race to rise and triumph over the contemporary
difficulties of existence.

,:iiii;:l.r

III

|!ni'

OUR MODE OF EDT

CHAPTER I.

iON REDUCES THE BIRTH-RATE IN PRANCE.

THERE is no need here to prove the diminution of births
in France. Abundant proof on this score has been
furnished by statistics. Moralists, economists, and politi-
cians have vied with each other in treating this vital ques-
tion.

But if they all agree in stating the fact, they cease to do
SO when the problem is to determine its exact causes. All
method on their part is reduced to irresponsible groping in
the dark. We shall, therefore, examine it with the help
of the light shed by social science.

As we have said, the diminution of the birth-rate in
France is an incontestable fact, but a few figures will
clearly establish it.

The following is a table of births during a period of more
than a hundred years per 10,000 inhabitants: —

Years.

Births.

Tears.

Births

1770-1780

880

1841-1850

274

1801-1810

825

1851-1860

267

1811-1820

816

1861-1868

264

1821-1830

809

1839-1880

245

1881-1840

289

1880-1896

220

As you see, from 1770 to 1896 the proportion of births
fell from 380 to 220 per 10,000 inhabitants, a diminution
of more than one-third.

The Birth- Rate in France.

In 1881 the number of births in France was 937,057; in
1890 it was only 838,057— that is, say, 100,000 less. Now
mark that this number of births is lower by 38,446 than
that of deaths. This victory of death over life occurs in
times of peace. Such is at present the normal record of
births in France, and it becomes accentuated year after
year.

There were in 1890—

42,520 births less than in 1889

44.580

1888

61.275

1887

74,V79

1886

86.490

1885

99.699

1884

09.885

1888

Marriages

also diminish year by year, althou

proportion.

Tn 1884 there

were 289, 555 marriages.

». 1885 ,,

„ 283,170

„ 1886 .

,, 283,208

M 1887 „

„ 277,060

., 1888 ,,

„ 276.848

„ 1889 „

,, 272.934

M 1890 „

,, 269,332

So in 1890 there were 20,223 marriages less than in
1884, a period of six years, and the decrease has been con-
stant, except in 1886, when the increase was only a few
units. . . - *

On the other hand, the number of deaths increase
steadily.

In 1881 there were 828.828 deaths.
„ 1882 ,, ,, 833,539 ,,

,, 1883

»*

„ 841.141

»9

„ 1884

«>

,, 858,784

M 1886

• >

,, 860.222

*»

„ 1890

• *

„ 876,505

I-

■

JinL 1

86 Our Mode of Education Reduces

So that in 1890 there were 47,677 more deaths than in
1881, and 35,364 more than in 1883; whilst there were
100,000 less births in that year (1890), which means
135,090 vacancies in the population.

If now we compare the French birth-rate with that of
other nations, we shall find that Norway doubles her popu-
lation in 51 years ; Austria, in 62 ; England, in 63 ; Den-
mark, in 73 'y Sweden, in 89 } Germany, in 98 ; and France,
m 334.

There are discrepancies in the various statistics, but all
agree in placing France much behind other countries in the
matter of birth-rate.

The decrease in the number of births being an estab-
lished fact, let us seek the reason.

On this point, statistics are powerless to enlighten us ;
they furnish us with figures, averages, generalities, but
their mission is not the explanation of phenomena.

Fall in the birth-rate is generally attributed to very
many causes. In a pamphlet,* the Marquis Je Nadaillac
enumerates no less than seventeen, some of which, how-
ever, are but repetitions. When submitted to close exami-
nation, they can be divided into two categories :

1. Assumptions that are not causes.

2. Secondary causes derived from one primary cause.
We shall examine in turn those categories, and compare

them; then we shall endeavour to find out the primary
cause.

^ M. de Nadaillac, Corresponding Member of the Institut de
France, " Affaiblissemeut de la Natality en France." Paris: G.
Masson.

the Birth-Ratc in France.

II.

Amongst the alleged factors^ we find in the first place the
assumption of " the natural lack of fecundity of the French
race.

" All races," says M. de Nadaillac, " are not equally proli-
fic. Climatic, social, economic, and biological conditions ex-
ercise influence on the point — although this influence may
as yet be but imperfectly defined. The fecundity 0.^ Chinese
women is remarkable, that of Polynesian women is feeble.
It may be stated in a general way that the Latin races (and
the French particularly) are less prolific than the Slavonic
and Anglo-Saxon races. This constitutes for us, from a
population point of view, an incontestable inferiority." *

No doubt some races seem to be more prolific than others,
and the causes of such differences might be easily traced
by a methodical analysis of the physical and social condi-
tions of each ; but we have now to do with France alone —
and we can hardly admit that the decrease in the birth-
rate is a question of race.

If it were, how could we explain the extraordinary fecun-
dity of the French race until the Kevolution, its increase in
Canada, in Louisiana, in India, at Haiti, Mauritius, Bour-
bon, in Italy, etc. ? Even in our own days, how is it that
our Canadian descendants are multiplying at a much higher
rate than the Anglo-Saxons themselves? The French Ca-
nadian population doubles once in every twenty-eight years,
whereas the population of France doubles in three hundred
and thirty-four years. Obviously we have to deal here
with no race question, but with the effects of some other
cause which began to act at a relatively recent epoch.

It is worthy of notice, too, that the birth-rate is very
high in some parts of France — Brittany, for instance,

* Nadaillac, ibid., pp. 71, 72.

88 Our Mode of Education Reduces

" During the four years 1880-83, the excess of births in
the five Breton departements rose to 74,990, a total nearly
equal to that of the whole of France in the same period.
If all the provinces could produce such a contingent, we
should have nothing to envy in our neighbours, in the
matter of increase of population." *

Moreover, the increase is steady enough in our industrial
departementsj as we shall see presently. In the others the
decrease has been constant ever since the beginning of the
century. Yet there has occurred no alteration in the race
that could explain this growing diminution.

The race argument is therefore valueless, being contrary
to facts.

Facts also controvert the argument based on intemper-
ance.

For the last fifty years intemperance has been severely
aggravated by the substitution of distilled for fermented
drinks. The consumption of alcohol has increased in a
large proportion : in 1788 it was about 370,000 hectolitres j
in 1882 it was 1,766,000 hectolitres.

True; but it is none the less true, on the other hand,
that the consumption of alcohol is less in France than in
some other countries, particularly in Northern Europe,
where, however, the proportion of births is highest. Even
in France, one of the zones where intemperance makes
the worst ravages is precisely the prolific Brittany. In the
South, on the contrary, where the populations consume
very little alcohol, there are some departements where deaths
are in excess of births. We must therefore recognize that
intemperance has not, in France, any influence on the num-
ber of the population.

The weight of military compulsory service is another of
the alleged causes.

* Nadaillac, ibid., p. 618.

the Birth- Rate in France.

But general compulsorj* service also exists in Germany,
and yet we have seen that the increase in the population is
in no way affected in that country. It is stated that mor-
tality is higher amongst young men serving in the army
than with the rest of the German youths, but this circum-
stance does not modify sensibly the general result.

Lastly, the heavy charges on tax-payers are said to form
one of the causes.

These charges are assuredly very heavy. Under the
second Empire, the tax-payer paid yearly 59 francs; in
1872, 85 francs ; he pays to-day 109 francs. Since 1820,
the land-tax revenue has risen from 243 to 357 million
francs ; the Fortes et Fenetres (Door and Window Tax) rose
from 29 to 40 million francs j the tax on patents from 40
to 163 million francs.

If this alleged factor had any serious iujfluence it would
be found that those regions in which the taxes weigh heav-
iest, that is the poorest regions, would present the smallest
proportion of births; and the wealthiest show a high in-
crease.

But precisely the contrary is the fact. The rich farmers
of Normandy and Picardy, who realized such fine profits
until the agricultural crisis set in, keep to one or two chil-
dren, whereas such poor regions as Brittany, and the
Ard^che, Lozere, Aveyron, the Haute Loire, Corr^ze, etc.,
show constant increase.

I have before me a representative map of births in
France, on which the lower rates of births are shown by
dark tints ; these tints are spread over the richest parts of
the country, and thus refute the tax argument.

These diverse factors have therefore no perceptible action
in the matter.

But there are causes which seem to act more effectively.

90 Our Mode of Education Reduces

III.

The causes whi3h we are going to examine evidently exer-
cise an influence over the diminution of births in France.
They are not fortuitous. Indeed, so many causes could
not be present in one country at apy one time, unless some
peculiar circumstance favoured their existence. Their very
coincidence suffices to demonstrate that there must be an
ulterior reason.

When a man commits blunder after blunder, fault after
fault, mistake after mistake, it can be rightly said that
there must be in that man something lacking, or deranged.

So it is with France. Indeed, you will see that all the
causes alleged to explain the diminution of births are them-
selves inexplicable without the intervention of an ulterior
reason.

1. The first assumption is somewhat naive.

" Man^s will, " says M. de Nadaillac, " is one of the pri-
mary causes of the low birth-rate in France."

There can be no doubt, indeed, that if the French wished
to have many children, they could have quite as many as
other people. But wAi/ do they not wish it? that is precisely
the question. It is obvious, then, that this explains nothing.

2. The increase in the number of small properties.
Here a distinction must be drawn.

If by " small properties" we mean little estates of a per-
manent character, which heads of families transmit to their
heirs according to their best judgment of family necessities,
then the birth-rate is in thic? case by no means lower than
among the larger land-owners ; indeed, the birth-rate is as
high as in England, which is a country of large landed
properties, and as high as in Norway, the Hanoverian
Luneburg, the Swiss cantons, the Basque provinces, etc.,
where small estates prevail.

the Birth-Rate in France.

9«

If, on the contrary, by " increase of small property" we
mean enforced, constant dividing and parcelling out of es-
tates, whatever their dimensions, that is another question,
as we shall see presently. Let us only statu here that
in France, where this process prevails, the proportion of
births is as low on the large estates of Normandy and Pi-
cardy as among the small holdings of Champagne.

3. The aversion of the French for matriaf/e, and the
demoralization incident to the indulgence in luxury, the
satisfaction of factitious wants, artificial pleasures, etc.

There is indeed a progressive diminution in the number
of marriages. If we only take into account the marriage-
able portion of the population, our country comes eleventh
on the list; the English, the Dutch, the Austrians, etc.,
come before us. The growing demoralization surely has
something to do with this. But what ought to be stated is
why the French for the last hundred years have shown such
an estrangement from the institution of marriage, and why
they have shown themselves more subject to demoralization
than their neighbours.

4. A i^elfish desire to secure a larger share of enjoyment.
This certainly does exist ; but there would remain to be

shown why the French suddenly displayed such thirsting
for enjoyment. Why are not the English, the Germans,
the Russians consumed with the same thirst? Is it to be
supposed that they, too, are not naturally inclined to in-
crease their sources of enjoyment? Or is there some cause
(no longer active among the French) which prevents them
trying to secure more personal satisfaction by limiting the
number of their children? What is the explanation?

6. The development of the mearis oj personal comfort^
owing to the rise in wages and salaries.

This, too, is a world-wide change, and cannot explain
any situation peculiar to France. M. de Nadaillac himself

92 Our Mode of Education Reduces

acknowledges that this fact explains nothing. "Every-
where," says he, "there is a large increase in the ease and
comfort of rural as well as urban populations ; everywhere
we find considerably higher wages, the people feed and
dress better, the homes are healthier and more adapted to
the needs of families, hygienic conditions are better under-
stood and applied. Everywhere, too, these causes have
been favourable to the increase of the birth-rate. Through
what fatal law do these causes produce in France totally
different effects?^' * Yes, why is it? We must find an-
other reason to explain this fact.

6. The development of urban districts^ where the birth-
rate is lower.

The decrease of the agricultural and the increase of the
urban poulations are incontestable facts. In 1846 the
population of the rural districts made up three-quarters of
the population of France; now it is barely 65 per cent,
of the whole, and is constantly decreasing. The cities
alone show an increase equal to five-sevenths of the whole.

But if this fact is incontrovertible, it is also general, and
therefore does not explain anything in our special case.

In England, the development of large towns is even
greater. Out of every ten persons, five live in towns. In
Germany the town populatioi; has increased from 14 to 15
per cent. Berlin, which two centurieo ago had 17,400 in-
habitants, now has 1,316,282. The same is true of Italy,
of Spain, of Austria — everywhere.

How, then, is it that notwithstanding these unfavourable
conditions, the birth-rate does not decrease in other coun-
tries as it does in France? It must be that France, on this
point as well, is placed under some peculiar influence.

7. The overwork in Schools.

In no country is that overworking so prevalent as it is in

* Nadaillac, ibid., p. 18.

vid

the Birth-Rate in France.

France. Moreover, it is further aggravated by the effects
of the sedentary life imposed on the boarders in our lyciesy
a kind of life which is bound to breed debility in the indi-
vidual and his offspring. This fact may appear as a tri-
umphant proof; but really it only acts on the more highly
educated classes.

Besides, we have yet to find the cause of such over-
working. It is not a spontaneous product peculiar to the
French soil.

IV.

The different reasons Just enumerated are obviously in-
suflBcient to explain the situation. They necessarily must
spring from some higher, more general cause.

Whatever it may be, the cause we are s- jking is un-
doubtedly one whose influence on the family is strong" and
direct, since the family is the source of the population.
There must be some mysterious pressure which makes the
conditions of the family particularly difficult in France.

Perpetuation is the natural tendency of every family;
man loves to see himself repeated in numerous offspring.
When nothing occurs to thwart this tendency, he gives
way to it : the children are many, and the advent of each
is joyfully welcomed. This is because in such cases a nu-
merous family is a force, and the children are a support
instead of an embarrassment.

And wherefore?

Because the great question, the establishment 0/ the chil-
dren is easily and naturally solved, through the very mech-
anism of social conditions. That is what happens indeed
in societies where the family community still prevails more
or less : among them, parents may rely on the help of the
community in bringing up and establishing their children.
The populations of the East are eminently prolific. The

94 ^^^ Mode of Education Reduces

general feeling finds vent in such proverbs as " Large fami-
lies are blest by the Lordj" or again, "Woe to the barren
woman I"

In France the birth-rate is maintained only amongst the
few populations which have more or less preserved the
communistic form, such as are met with in Brittany, in
the Pyrenees, and in the mountainous regions of Central
France.

At the other extremity of the social world, we find the
same fecundity among societies of a particularistic forma-
tion. There, too, the fate of the children is assured, not
by the community, but by the intense development of indi-
vidual activity, thanks to the training given to young peo-
ple, which enables them to find positions for themselves.
Heads of families have no need to provide for their chil-
dren's establishment; they give them no portions.

Why is it not so any longer over the greatest part of
France? Why are large families no longer envied? Why,
on the contrary, do we pity them? Why is it our ideal to
have two children — a boy and a girl — or even only one
child, the "son and heir"?

Because, among us, a numerous family is such an over-
whelming burden that, do what they may, there is but one
resource for the parents, and that is to elude the difficulty.

They cannot rely for the settling of their children either
on the family community, which is dissolved, nor on the
children's own initiative, which is smothered by their mode
of education.

The establishment of tne children therefore remains in
charge of the parents. A French father cannot get his
children married except by giving each a portion; he is
thus compelled to make as many fortunes as he has chil-
dren, and this before the marriage of each, that is to say,
within a period of eighteen to thirty years I

the Birth- Rate in France.

You have just married. One year later, you have one
child. Is your vision that of a fair little head, a sweet
smile? No J the vision is the surging ghost of a dowry, a
portion which you will have to find. Eighteen months or
two years later, another child — that is another porti'^n to
constitute. Two portions in twenty -five years ! You feel
unequal to doing more, and in presence of a material im-
possibility you make up your mind to stop the expense.

And that is why the French have few children. The
social conventions make their task an impossibility j and
then, not being able to destroy the conventions, they de-
stroy the race.

They are the more inclined to limit the number of their
children, because after marrying off, they will find their
circumstances reduced by the amount of the portion given,
which their honour is at stake in making as large as pos-
sible. Everybody knows how much Mr. So-and-So gives
his children. Thus it is the parents' business to provide
a competency for each of their children, and moreover to
see that their own fortunes do not suffer from the repeated
assaults.

Statistics fully establish the influence of the dowry sys-
tem in promoting voluntary storility ; the wealthier, the
more provident classes (those who have to raise the money
wherewith to portion their children), are those that have
the smaller families. The poorer and less provident (the
working classes) have large families ; they are the classes
whose children are left to grow and start in life as best
they can.

Thus, in the industrial departernent of the Nord^ where
the working population is numerous, there is a considerable
excess in the number of births as compared to deaths —
51,197 births, against 35,089 deaths. On the contrary, in
rich agricultural districts, the death-rate is higher. In the

i I

■A : ■

96 Our Mode of Education Reduces

Uure, 6842 births, and 8128 deaths; in the Owe, 8851
births, and 9068 deaths; in the Ovie, 6851 births, and
8534 deaths, etc.

So that we must arrive at this strange conclusion, that
in France, with sundry exceptions, the birth-rate is partly
maintained only through the multiplication of the improvi-
dent and the incapable. What sort of a future can such
circumstances foreshadow for France?

We shall now see that such conditions imposed on the
family can explain the secondary causes before enumerated.

First, the determination to have few children is suffi-
ciently explained by the impossibility on the parents' part
to gather the money for a number of portions. In such
conditions marriage is but a heavy charge which must be
avoided.

Having thus renounced the hope of rearing and establish-
ing a large family, having reduced their liabilities to a
minimum of one or two children to be settled, they feel in-
clined to indulge themselves in the greatest possible sum of
enjoyment. A childless couple, or a couple with but one
or two children, have much in common with the " selfish
bachelor" type. They have none of the stimulus towards
thrift and sacrifice which is furnished by the necessity of
bringing up and starting in life a numerous family.

It is a very remarkable fact, indeed, that our social state
produces two quite different results. On the one hand,
large families make the parents' situation most difficult
and their lives a series of privations. On the other, those
who have few children find themselves in very easy circum-
stances ; they can enjoy great comfort and can indulge in
all pleasures. In short, they can live almost like bachelors.

As for the children, accustomed to rely more on the pros-
pective portion than on their own initiative, they are little
inclined to make for themselves independent positions —

the Birth-Rate in France.

whether at home or abroad — and are mostly tempted to em*
brace administrative careers.

In order to stop the rush, examinations are multiplied —
but in vain. The crowd of candidates becomes a crush.
Any one who wishes to obtain entrance must overwork
himself; hence the cramming in the Schools.

All the causes advanced by economists proceed, there-
fore, from one primary and only cause ; the conditions im-
posed on the family by our social state.

Is this diminution in the birth-rate in France an evil or
a boon? Are we to rejoice at it, or should we deplore it?
Economists do not agree on this point.

M. Maurice Block has contended, in the Journal des
Dehats and in the Revue des Deiix-Mondes,* that a rapid
increase in the population of a country is a cause of weak-
ness on account of the poverty which is the necessary
result. M. de Molinari arrives at the same conclusion in
the Journal des ^conomistes \ which he directs.

Do facts justify such a conclusion?

First, we cannot see how sterility profits France.

If our country was surrounded by a Chinese Great Wall,
which forbade entrance to every foreign element, we would
feel more at our ease on a sparsely peopled soil ; the diminu-
tion in the population would increase for each the share in
the natural resources and the work at hand.

But such is not the sase. The voids brought about by
our low birth-rate are immediately filled up by the flow
of immigrants from abroad. The surplus population of all
^ur neighbours — Belgians, Germans, Swiis, Italians, Span-
ish Basques, etc., filters into France more and more.

* Issue of October 15, 1882. f Issue of December, 1886.

■( ,

98 Our Mode of Education Reduces

In 1861 we had 379,000 foreigners among us; in 1801,
499,000; in 1872, 799,000; in 1876, 801,000; in 1881,
1,001,100 — that is to say, one foreigner for every 7.S
French people. "It is an important fact," says M. de
Foville, " this rapid infiltration of the foreign element into
a population which would otherwise be almost stationary." *

France is the country where the rate of emigration is
lowest, and immigration highest.

Those writers who are in favour of a low birth-rate know
this; but far from being alarmed, they are elated by the
fact, and declare it to be a cause of economy for France,
which is thus receiving a host of workers whose education
cos*:3 us nothing.

"Let us suppose," says M. da Molinari, "that instead
of importing 1,000,000 adult workers, who came to fill the
gaps in our population, France had had to educate them,
what would they have cost us? To obtain 1,000,000 of
men twenty years old, 1,300,000 children have to be
brought into the world. Now, the average cost of rearing
a million children up to adolescence is 3,500,000,000 francs.
France has therefore saved a sum of three milliards and a
half (£140,000,000) by importing educated workers instead
of herself educating a like number ; and has not this sav-
ing contributed to the increase of public and private wealth?
Is it not obvious that if France had received free from the
neighbouring countries 1,000,000 oxen, destined to provide
for our deficiencies, we would have benefited by the whole
expense incurred in Belgium, Switzerland, etc., in breed-
ing them and bringing them to a productive state?" f

For this reasoning to be just, there is only one thing
lacking : that is, that men should be oxen.

What results from the fact that men are not oxen?

* La France ^cononiiqiie, p. 27.

f Journal des £ca)iomistes, issue of December, 1886.

(«■ !' VjSi

the Birth-Rate in France.

This : that our few children — not being given the rough
training which is the lot of children in large families — not
being from a tender age accustomed to the idea that they
must take care of themselves in life, and that they must
not reckon on a forthcoming portion or wife's dowry — it
being taught success is for the most painstaking, the boldest
and most enterprising — those children consequently do not
become men. Moreover our only sons, spoilt and tied to
their mothers' apron-strings as they have been, when once
they are brought into competition with the more strongly
nurtured offspring of large families, are always and every-
where shamefully beaten and ousted. Our own merchants
and engineers prefer German or Swiss clerks, and Belgian
or Italian workmen to their own countrymen, because they
find them more obedient, more diligent, more thrifty, and
less exacting. Those foreigners save money on wages
which our workers vote insufficient. Without them our
production would be twice as dear, and we should be still
more powerless than we are to cope with foreign competi-
tion. Thanks to their wholesome minds and vigorous
bodies they save our industry and our agriculture.

But they do so at the price of our energy and lowered
moral sense, at the cost of our force of expansion, of our
colonizing power, of our prestige in the world, of our very
nationality which is being gradually submerged under the
invasion of the foreigner.

Diu::!Gri:^A

:vi-;:<r3''3

loo Our Mode of Education Compromises

CHAPTER IT.

OUR MODE OF EDUCATION COMPROMISES THE FINANCIAL SITUA-
TION OF FRANCE.

IT is a favourite utterance on the part of many people that
our time is "the Century of Money." Some rejoice at
it; others complain of it.

The fact is that financial undertakings and speculations
have assumed in our time unheard-of proportions.

This is no mere fortuitous circumstance ; nothing in this
world is the work of chance.

It was the discovery of coal which gave money the
extraordinary power which it now has. Coal gave the
impulsion to innumerable undertakings, which, requiring
considerably more capital than is at the disposal of one
family, could only be carried out by means of joint-stock
companies.

The first of ^uch undertakings is the working of the coal
mines. This product is not to be found in veins like the
metals, but in enormous layers which furnish an almost un-
limited supply. Hence arises the necessity for vast con-
cerns employing large numbers of workmen.

Besides, there is every advantage in doing the work en
grand, as coal feeds all other industries, and is sure of a
vast and constant market.

Such an undertaking obviously requires considerable
capital, which only financial association can furnish.

Coal has not only furnished a new kind of mine-working;

the Financial Situation of France. loi

it has transformed tlio whole of industry. To the small
workshop of the past have succeeded the larger works of
our epoch. Indeed, such a motive force as coal yields in-
creases industrial produot'on and consequently the number
of work people tenfold and even a hundred-fold. Such in-
dustrial development, requiring enormous capital, involves
the formation of many financial corporations.

But coal does not only provide the " bread of industry;"
its effect has been to transform the means of transport, by
procuring the motive force of railways and steamboats.
Such undertakings require co-operation, even more than
the foregoing ; most of them are worked by companies.

It is coal, too, that made possible many large industries
undertaken by joint-stock societies, such as the manufac-
ture of gas, the various appliances of electricity, the open-
ing of the Suez Canal, the railways, etc.

Moreover, the advent of coal has enabled the Govern-
ments of the different States to undertake large works of
public utility. The development of those States themselves
has been increased thereby. The budgets ot nations being
insufficient to deal with such considerable works, they had
recourse to loans, and thus constituted corporations of
shareholders even larger than any of those before named.

So it was that money assumed suddenly an enormous
power, unheard-of until then, and characterized by the fact
that it produces a revenue by itself without any necessary
exertion on the part of the owner. What formerly was the
exception became frequent : the class of persons living on
their incomes, which formerly only comprised the wealthier
families, now include a host of people of the humbler sort,
all those who penny by penny succeed in putting by the
smallest of competencies.

That is what coal has done ; and it is sufficient to show
us that we are in presence of a purely natural transforma-

102 Our Mode of Education Compromises

tion, resulting from natural forces against which the
strength of man is powerless. There would be madness in
attempting to resist it ; failure would be certain.

The causes which made the public inclined to rush for
personal property of the kind just alluded to are not less
positive.

First, such property is easy to acquire, as it is essentially
divisible. It is within reach of the most modest " capi-
talist." Then it yields a revenue without necessitating
any work, any obligation — an inducement which is fascina-
ting for all. Then your income comes to you — when it
comes — with a periodic regularity and punctuality which
the exercise of agriculture, industry, or commerce certainly
do not afford. How could such advantages be resisted?

But that is not all. There is another attraction about
this kind of property : it offers the alluring prospect of a
possible bonus, or considerable prizes. It is wealth com-
ing to us whilst we are asleep !

People reckon on such chances the more sanguinely be-
cause for a long time shareholders realized large profits.
They greedily quote the famous example of the Anzin
shareholders, whose small outlay brought each of them a
fortune. The Suez Canal shares are named with bated
breath, and so are those of the Paris Gas Company, etc.
At a time when every one of these enterprises was in the
incipient stage, when everything was yet to be done, and
competition was but little developed, many of the concerns
yielded unhoped-for profits. The astonished public rushed,
and they still rush, to the distribution, like larks to a
mirror. When failures occur they pass unnoticed amidst
the loud acclamations of success.

Moreover, Stock Exchange values, owing to the facility
in purchase and re-selling, and owing also to the fluctua-
tions in prices, offer the seduction of speculation which

the Financial Situation of France. 103

appeals to many minds. In addition to the easiest way
of administering one's fortune, there is a most satisfac-
tory prospect of seeing it suddenly increase to indefinite
proportions.

We have thus summed up the causes which lead the
public to invest in this kind of security.

As a result, the public seem to have lost their heads.
The cult of money has thus been developed to its present
point. We have all been taught to entertain prospects of
sudden access to fortune. Financiers find themselves at
the top of the tree : they are the kings of the day.

But there is another side to the picture.

Never was the representation of Fortune on her wheel
truer than it is nowadays.

Personal property is essentially unstable.

It is at the mercy of all the fluctuations of the market,
which itself is at the mercy of all the hazards of politics
and speculations. It is not our business here to rewrite
the history of the ruins consummated on * Change every
day.

But at some periods the financial crisis is so intense, and
so many are struck at one time, that it deserves the name
of a catastrophe. Something like a tremendous subsidence
takes place, and we have what we call a " krach.^'

Then the clamouring is general j all the wounded inter-
ests rise up in arms. The losing parties vie with each
other in their passionate invectives against financiers,
brokers, etc., invectives which they often deserve them-
selves. People are willing to get dividends, but unwilling
to run the necessary risks ; both of which, however, are
inseparable from the system. Stock Exchange " securities"
imply insecurity as the apple-tree bears apples and the vine
grapes. Here are two natural laws of the same order.

The question is to know whether the instability inherent

I04 Our Mode of Education Compromises

in Stock Exchange securities, and the domination of the
Stock Exchange are two evils that cannot be obviated.

We shall see presently that they can, and, indeed, that
they are obviated in some countries.

II.

The extension of Stock Exchange values in our time has
not produced everywhere the same results. It is a remark-
able fact that the countries most shaken in their credit are
not those where speculation is most rife. In other words,
some countries can bear, without showing any ill effects, a
dose of speculation which would seriously upset others.
That is a phenomenon analogous to the capacity of the
American vines, as compared to the French vines, for re-
sisting the assaults of the Phylloxera bacillus.

A whole library might be formed with the different
works recently published in France on the subject of the
dangers with which the Jews and speculators threaten
society. Calm reason is not precisely v»^hat shines most in
these books ; indeed, they are the expression of violent pas-
sion. Most of them overstep their goal, which is the wrong
way of getting there. They all see only the surface of
things, and propose impossible or inefficacious reme^^ies.
But, at any rate, this rising in arms is a characteristic
symptom of the malaise which French society is now ex-
periencing.

This does not arise from the French having shown more
eagerness than other nations in investing in Stock Ex-
change securities ; the latter are viewed with quite as much
favour in England, Scandinavia, Germany, and the United
States.

The difference lies in this : the people who have best
protected themselves against suffering too much by the

the Financial Situation of France. 105

instability of that kind of property all employed the same
means : they did not invest their all in such securities, but
only part of their savings.

The French, on the contrary, give up everything; they
bring to the Bourse both capital and savings. It is there-
fore a common utterance that France is the country where
money is most abundant. So it is, and the fact is due to
the general tendency, on the part of the French, to make
money of everything they possess, to make it all " liquid, "
as the (French) phrase goes. The ideal of many a French-
man is to hold all his fortune in his pocket-book.

This is the reason why most financial issues from any
part of the world have their birth in Paris. France is the
great money market, in this sense, that Paris is the place
in the world where a skilful financier can make the best
haul. French money thus flows abroad through a thousand
streams — which do not all turn back into France. It has
flowed in Turkey, in Honduras, in the Argentine Republic,
Peru, etc.

We ail know that the two greatest undertakings of mod-
ern times, the excavating of the Suez and Panama canals,
have been executed mainly through the means of French
capital. This does not mean that these undertakings will
remain in French hands. Suez is already in English hands j
Panama is very likely to pass into the hands of American
citizens. Always the Anglo-Saxon's ready hand! The
French pay their money, but they do not reap the fruit.
They run the chances, and somebody else gathers the
profits.

It is, then, an established fact that France is the coun-
try where fortunes are most generally invested in personal
property.

What is the cause of this fact?

It comes from the French neglecting more and more the

''i'^i

■%

io6 Our Mode of Education Compromises

three great sources of public wealth : Agriculture, Industry,
and Commerce.

There is no need to repeat here with what penistence
Louis XIV. att7'acted the great nobles from their estates to
the Court. The upper classes iu France have been gradu-
ally detached from agricultural interests; they are now
part of the urban population. France is the country where
the large land-owners are the greatest absentees, and give
the least attention to their rural estates. Hence all the
money which ought to have returned to the laud in the
shape of improvements has been invested in different funds.

Those capitals might have gone to industry or commerce ;
but owing to a stupid prejudice, these occupations are
looked upon in France as infra dig. by all persons who con-
sider that they belong to the upper classes. As for the
men who do follow these occupations, their only idea is to
make a fortune as soon as possible, so as to be able to retire
early — and start their sons in those careers which the so-
called superior classes do not disdain, namely, the admin-
istrative careers. To be a member of the civil or military
Administration is the dream of nearly all Frenchmen. It
is the means of gaining recognition, of marrying well, and
of penetrating into Society.

The Frenchman is therefore a fonctionnaire, or a prospec-
tive fonctionnaire. In the first case he receives a salary.
What is he to do with the money he saves on his expendi-
ture? For the reasons just stated, it will never occur to
him to utilize it in some agricultural, industrial, or com-
mercial undertaking. That would be a forfeiture of his dig-
nity. Besides, these occupations are quite foreign to him.

His money, therefore, goes to the Stoc^^ Exchange : that
is the readiest outlet for it — an attractive one for such as
do not wish to work with thcir own capital, or have not
the capacity to do so. \

the Financial Situation of France. 107

One last circumstance comes to swell the sum total of the
money which finds its way to the Stock Exchange. French
families, as we have seen, have few children ; that money
which would be employed in bringing up the children is
free. Systematic sterility, which means a loss of social
strength in the near future, is at least in the present a
cause of increase in the available capital of families.

Now let us realize the consequences of a financial crisis
to persons whose whole fortune is invested in Stock Ex-
change securities. SucL a crisis for them spells irrepara-
ble ruin.

Is it so in tbe Anglo-Saxon world?

III.

Among the Anglo-Saxons, agriculture has been abandoned
neither by the upper classes nor by the mass of the nation.
The English lords own vast estates and reside there ; when
they do not cultivate the whole of their lands, they always
farm at least a part themselves. In this way they remain
well posted in all agricultural matters. A French land-
owner can hardly believe what amount of money a great
English landlord is willing to embark in agricultural im-
provements.* This use of wealth is the principal title of
an English gentleman to public consideration, f

What else is done by the English emigrants to the United
States, to Australia, New Zealand, etc., but building up
rural estates? To own a rural estate, and run it, is their
proudest ambition ; that is why they become colonists, set-
tlers, squatters. A very great many ycung Englishmen
thus go abroad every year, and when a man finds such em-

* Videh. de Lavergne, "Essai sur reconomie rurale de I'Angle-
terre. " f Fide Taine, "Notes sur I'Angleterre. "

v;r

io8 Our Mode of Education Compromises

ployment for his spare money, there is not much left for
Stock Exchange investments.

The few Frenchmen, on the contrary, who go abroad,
do so generally in an official capacity, and do a good deal
more harm than good to the cause of colonization.

Agriculture is not the c^nly opening for individual activ-
ity. Industry and commerce, even in the upper classes,
are in equal favour among the Anglo-Saxons. The sons of
a peer who do not start a rural estate abroad establish them-
selves in England as manufacturers or in some line of busi-
ness. No one thinks this derogatory. The prodigious de-
velopment of industry and commerce in England and
America can be m no other way accounted for. Now, all
these enterprises require considerable capital, which would
otherwise be turned to Stock Exchange speculations.

These families are the more disposed to adopt agricul-
ture, industry, and commerce as their professions, because
bureaucracy is much less developed than in France. In
England, tho number of officials is reduced to a minimum.
Private activity is therefore directed towards the useful
professions.

The more so, because such businesses are not, as in
France, subjected to the laws of division amongst the
children. The head of a family, being absolutely master
of his property, can found durable concerns that will sur-
vive him.

It will now be clsar to the reader that families whose
care is to use their fortunes in personal undertakings, are
by the very fact free from the instability of fortunes in-
vested in Stock Exchange securities. When they do make
such investments it is only in the way that a tourist in the
Riviera might make up his mind to risk a few hundred
francs at Monte Carlo: if he wins, so much the better; if
he loses, his loss is limited ; his fortune is not affected.

the Financial Situation of France. 109

You should read M. de Rousiers's " La Vie Amdricaine,"
Chapter XIII., especially par. 3: "In New York and Bos-
ton, I came across professional men who employ in agri-
culture, or otherwise, part of their capital; but they are
thoroughly acquainted with the undertakings which their
money promotes; not in general lai'ge associations, but pri-
vate firms. So as to keep a perfect control over their funds,
they take good care not to disseminate them, as is the cus-
tc Q in France, with cautious heads of families; they do
not mind putting all their eggs in one basket, if I may use
a metaphor often employed by our rentiers, because they
have their eyes on that basket and make sure there is no
hole at the bottom. Thus the American papers, so full of
practical information, do not all publish lists of Stock Ex-
change prices as ours do ; the great majority of their readers
would take no interest in such matters. If they have any
money at command, their own business activity generally
points to ready use for it. Instead of falling asleep over
their title deeds, they start businesses worked with their
own capitals. " *

Consequently, all Stock Exchange dealings are done with
ready money; all purchases made on 'Change are settled by
cheques payable next morning. Every one who goes in for
any speculation is bound to obtain actual possession of the
deeds thus purchased. Such methods are singularly in-
strumental in checking speculation, and make Stock Ex-
change operations a good deal safer.

It can therefore be affirmed that if a general break-down
of Stock Exchange securities were to occur, the Anglo-
Saxon world would suffer considerably less than we should,
because their fortunes are invested differently.

It is this way of investing our fortunes which makes
France the Promised Land of financiers. The Jew, for
* "La Vie Americaine, " p. 398.

1 1 o The Financial Situation of France.

\kr^ IJ

one, is a plant which only develops in favourable surround-
ings. Why does he not prosper so much in England, in
Scandinavia, in the United States, in Australia, etc., as in
France? Because there all fortunes have not been invested
in public funds j because each man there employs his own
capital on his own land, and his own industry, or in his
own trade. Where there is nothing to gain, where every
one knows how to take care of his own, the Jew subsides }
at least he drops his noxious character.

The Struggle for Existence. 1 1 1

CHAPTER III.

HOW ANGLO-SAXON EDUCATION PRk PARES CHILDREN TOR THE
STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE. TYPES AND CHARACTERS.

IN May, 1892, I received from England invitations from
two quarters.

The first was addressed to me by the British Association
for the Advancement of Science, which was to hold its
seven cy-second congress in Edinburgh, from the 4th to the
10th of August. It ran : " The Committee hope you will
honour them by being their guest as long as you will stay
in our city, and you may rest assured that they will do all
in their power to make your st<'.y here as pleasant as pos-
sible." How could any one resist so engaging an invita-
tion?

Almost at the same time I received another letter from
Professor Geddes, founder of the Summer Meeting of Edin-
burgh, asking me to come and deliver before that body a
series of lectures on Social Science.

And this is how, on August 2, 1892, I arrived in the
lovely city of Edinburgh — and returned there during four
consecutive years.

A very remarkable and eminently British institution is
that Summer Meeting, or Summer School of Science and
Art. It deserves to be well known.

Under the denomination of University Extension Lec-
tures, a whole system of public classes has been organized
m different parts of Great Britain, and in the district? of

1 1 2 How Ang-lo-Saxon Education Prepares

the Universities. A small fee is charged to each student,
and both sexes are admitted to the classes, which generally
take place during the holidays, last one month, and include
many different subjects.

This institution is a success over there, because of the
large public always on the watch for anything that may
help their improvement through their own personal efforts.

In many towns of England the number of students
reaches hundreds. In the United States such classes are
attended by thousands.

II.

I was certainly the most astonished man in the world
when, in opening my lectures at Edinburgh I found myself
in the presence of an audience of some sixty or seventy peo-
ple. For lectures delivered in the French language, such
a number was certainly unexpected.

I wished to know the composition of my audience, so as
to draw from it some social as well as educational infer-
ences. It included a few large land-owners; several
schoolmasters and pressmen; the principal of a school of
social studies in London; a certain number of students,
amongst whom were some who had attended our Paris
classes, and who had had the happy thought to come to
Edinburgh ; young ladies simply anxious to increase their
field of knowledge ; a few people particularly interested in
questions of popular education and improvement; finally,
Board and National schoolmasters and mistresses.

This last group is by far the most numerous. I told one
of the mistresses that in France persons of her calling would
never d^eam ot employing their holidays in attending classes
— especially if they had to pay for it. She looked much
surprised, such a use of a holiday seemed quite natural to
her. The fact is that for similar lectures which take place

for the Struggle for Existence. 113

near the Universities of Oxford, Cambridge, etc., the paid
admissions amount to as many as six and seven bundled.

The great number attending can only be explained by
the keen desire of each individual to acquire a high per-
sonal value. We have said how this feeling is promoted
by English education.*

I visited a farm, not far from Edinburgh, and found
among the agricultural classes the same tendency to rise.

As we alighted at the R station we found the

farmer, who had come to meet us. I assure you you might
have taken him for a banker, a diplomatist, or a rich botir-
f/eois; in one word, he looked a perfect gentleman. His
jacket was of excellent cut; from head to f'^ot he was
dressed like a man who goes to a good tailor. These small
details — and the following — are not useless j you will by-
and-by appreciate their importance.

The farm is within a mile of the station, and the farmer's
dwelling-house is close to the farm-buildings. A well-kept
avenue, with flowers on either side, leads to it j I noticed
also a flower-bed opposite to the door. The dwelling pre-
sents the exterior aspect of a comfortable English house.
We enter : there is a carpet in the hall j the stairs, too, are
carpeted, and so is the landing. We are now in the draw-
ing-room, where we are welcomed by the mistress of the
house ; she does so without the least embarrassment, as a
lady will do. The conversation does not flag, and embraces
the most varied subjects. The lady speaks very tolerable
French, which denotes a good education. Tea is brought
in, and very nicely served. The servant is not a heavy,
awkward, country wench, dressed as a peasant girl pro-
moted straight from the stable to the parlour; there is a
certain style about her; she wean a pretty, white, well-

* Vide, in La Science Sociale, "Mon s^jour dans une petite villa
d'Angleterre," by M. Bureau, t. IX., pp. 151, 256.
8

114 How Anglo-Saxon Education Prepares

starched apron, and on her head is the smart littie caj)
worn by maid-servants in all respectable English house-
holds. These details point to a good middle-class way of
living, for all this has evidently not been improvised on
our account.

I am trying all along to analyze my impressions and com-
pare everything 1 see here with the things of the same kind
which I have observed elsewhere : I can thus best give each
thing its relative value. Consequently, as I behold tliij
British farmer, his home and mode of living, my mind nat-
urally reverts to the types of farmers which I have had
opportunities of observing in different parts of France.

We must go to the north of France to find the superior
type of farmer: a well-read man, sometimes al^A. ; settled
amidst comfortable surroundings, dressed in a morning-coat
or juoket — not in a blouse; in short, a man who has the ap-
pearance and leads the life of a well-to-do land-owner wlio
manages his estate himself, lives well, and keeps a good
table and good wine.

But the average type is very different. 1 do not mean
the farmer of the south or centre of France, nor even the
Breton farmer, whose way of living does not differ materi-
ally from that of his labourers ; I select the farmer of Nor-
mandy — a rich country. I have in mind a Norman farmer
whom I visited several times ; he works an estate of three
or four hundred acres — precisely the size of my Scotch-
man's estate. He is a rich man, for he gives his only son
a portion of one hundred thousand francs (£4000). He
might therefore live in comfort; however, he has not the
least idea, the least wish of doing so. He dresses like our
peasants, in a blue blouse, save on market days, when he
goes to the town, and wears clothes patched and dirty
enough to please the most fastidious. In style his wife
matches him, washes her own linen at a public fountain,

for the Struggle for Existence. 1 1 5

and in costume, manner, and conversation, does not differ
from the maid in the farmyard. The inside of the dwell-
ing is in harmony with the inmates. The whole of the
family life is spent in a large room, whose floor is on a
level with the farmyard, and overlooks it; the walls, badly
white-washed, are bare, ''.he only furniture consists of a
long straight table, in appearance like a plank placed on a
couple of trestles ; masters and servants eat at this table,
without a table-cloth. Eound the table are a few benches
in keeping with the table. There are three or four odd
badly stuffed chairs. The kitchen-range is in this room,
and so is the sink. That is all. 1 do not give this descrip-
tion as an isolated one ; it is, on the contrary, that of the
most common French farmer type, and every one of my
readers has been able to observe it a hundred times. Yet
this sort of thing does not shock our feelings, because we
c usider this mode of life quite natural. It seems to us
that a tiller of the ground cannot and ought not to live
differently, and that agriculture implies for the agricultur-
ist lack of comfort and no lack of dirt.

But perhaps you think my British farmer is an exceptional
type? So I thought, too, until we visited the dwellings of
his labourers.

You know how a farm-labourer is lodged in France.
When he does not sleep on the straw in a shed, or in a poor
bed in the stable, he has but a most miserable room to which

to retire. I asked therefore the R farmer to let

us see the lodgings of his labourers. I was shown, within
a hundred yards from the farmhouse, half a dozen cottages
in a line along the road; they were the labourers' houses,
and we repaired thither.

The exterior aspect is pleasant. In front of each is a
small flower-garden intersected by well-kept little paths.
The kitchen-garden is behind — and every cottage has its

i ill

1 1 6 How Anglo-Saxon Education Prepares

own. As we came up, we saw before one of the cottages a
young woman dressed like a middle-class person, pushing a
pretty baby carriage containing a child carefully dressed in
white. The vehicle was on four wheels, and of the sort
we call "English" (a perambulator), which is generally a
rather expensive afEair. M. Poinsard, one of my collabo-
rators on La Science Sociale, who was with me, asked the
farmer whether this was a person come from the town on
a visit ; as you may well suppose, we were astonished to
learn that she was the wife of the farm labourer living in
the cottage.

The farmer asked her permission for his visitors to go
over the house. She complied willingly, and did the hon-
ours herself.

There was a cocoanut-fibre ^lat before the entrance door,
and another inside the narrow hall for wiping one's feet.
The existence of a hail is most favourable to the cleanliness
and comfort of a dwelling : people do not enter the place
direct from the outside, and it means as well protection
against the cold. A little room, on the right, where things
are washed (the scullery, unknown in French dwellings of
the same class), allows of more neatness in the combined
kitchen and dining-room : this is a large room about live
yards square and furnished quite comfortably. The range,
half hidden in the wall, which is habitually the case, is per-
fectly well kept ; the brasses are resplendent. This is no
matter for astonishment, as English housewives are cer-
tainly better cleaners than cooks; they are almost con-
stantly rubbing and scrubbing, employing in turn lead or
copper-wash for the range, and hearthstone for the steps,
etc. It seems as though an English housewife spent more
time on her knees than on her feet.

I shall give you i^n idea of the care bestowed by these
people on the furnishing of their houses by relating the fol-

for the Struggle for Existence. 1 1 7

lowing characteristic detail. In the dining-room is a sty-
lish article of furniture on which are disposed in brave array
a whole collection of bibelots ; and we are in a farm labour-
er's cottage!

Let us enter the bedroom. The iron bedstead is adorned
with brass balls, also beautifully polished ; beside the bed,
a chest of drawers; opposite, a sofa; then a toilet and
washstand, and — make a note of this — on the stand a series
of bottles and boxes of different colours ; round the look-
ing-glass, a gay-coloured gauze artfully disposed, and fram-
ing it. T think this slight detail very suggestive : it betrays
a naive effort towards the beautiful in the arrangement of
the home.

This desire to make their homes comfortable is general
here among a whole class of workpeople. There is in this
neighbourhood a coal-mine, as I have before stated. I
noticed that a great number of the colliers' cottages were
kept with the same care as I have just described : small
front flower-garden, whitened steps, pretty whi*^e or col-
oured curtains at the windows, etc. On the other hand, I
noticed that some of the streets inhabited by work-people
were composed of dirty and ill-kept houses, and that every-
thing that could be seen of the inside presented a sordid
aspect ; the children went in rags and with bare feet.

The manager of the works explained to me the cause of
this contrast : " Irish workmen, " he said, " do not care for
comfort, and pay no attention to the proper keeping of their
habitations; so we let them our oldest houses, for which
we charge them a lower rent, with which they are quite
satisfied; but for our Scotch work-people we built these
new dwellings, which they embellish as much as they

can.

The farmer confirmed this statement. He also employs
Irishmen, especially at the gathering of the crops, and

^iM i

1 1 8 How Anglo-Saxon Education Prepares

houses them anyhow ; the question of the lodging is noth-
ing to them.

We can therefore register here the difference in the
aspirations of the Anglo-Saxon Individualists and of
the Communistic Irishmen, in regard to comfort in their
dwellings.

I had another proof of this during a visit I paid to the
neighbouring little town of Penicuik. We went and had
tea at the house of a mechanic. The cottage belongs to
him ; it consists of the ground-floor and one storey. We
were served with tea in a room combining the uses of a
dining-room and parlour. I noticed a sofa, a piano, a car-
pet covering a greater part of the floor, and under the table
a more common carpet (a rug) as a protection for the other
carpet, This detail is an indication of peculiar cleanliness
and tenue on the part of the mistress of the house. The
meal is laid on a large square table, with something ap-
proaching to luxury ; tea-cloth of fine linen, pretty china
set, five or six different plates of bread and butter, toast,
cake, and biscuits. I accept another cup of tea, and before
being refilled, my cup is rinsed in a basin specially reserved
for that purpose. I do not believe I am mistaken in say-
ing that in France the second cup is generally served with-
out this ordeal ; at any rate that is how it is done in my
own house and among my acquaintance. So this plain
workman enjoys in this respect a refinement which would
constitute a novelty in most of our houses.

I inquired of the E farmer about the wages paid

to his labourers: he pays them ninety-five shillings a
month, and in addition to this, they have the cottage rent-
free, a two-acre kitchen garden, a large provision of pota-
toes, other vegetables, and bacon; all of which ensures
them the better part of their food. The wives seldom do
any outside workj it is with his own resources that the

for the b :ruggle for Existence. 1 1 9

workman manages to procure all the comfort we have just
described.

Moreover, it has not been demonstrated that order,
cleanliness, and good housekeeping are more expensive than
disorder, uncleanliness, and the public-house.

It should be added that the English workman, unlike the
French, saves but little ; he spends about all he earns. To
better his position, he counts less on his saving power than
on an increase in his returns through promotion to a higher
grade in his calling. He is, indeed, most keen in seizing hold
of any opportunity to improve his position. To this effect
he has no hesitation in expatriating himself, as is proved by
the multitude of Anglo-Saxon emigrants. In the matter of
providing for the future, the English do not do much be-
sides insuring their lives, so as to leave some resources — in
case of death — to the widows. This accounts for the de-
velopment and wealth of insurance companies in Great
Britain and America.

We are therefore once more led to conclude that such a
social formation develops in the individual an extraordinary
ability to rise. But there is something more characteristic :
it is that among them, even in quite inferior ranks, the in-
dividual lives better, more comfortably, with more dignity
— more respectably, as the English say — than on the Con-
tinent. Upon the whole, acquaintance with the English
workman — whether in town or country — leads one to feel
that there is little to add to him to make him a gentleman,
exteriorly and perhaps morally. He is a gentleman in a
rudimentary state, at least he has the appearance of one,
being more anxious to live generously than to meanly save
his money.

Among us, on the contrary, the ruling faculty is economy
and foresight; we do not rise or pi ogress in any way except
by dint of restricting our needs and reducing our expen-

I20 How Anglo-Saxon Education Prepares

diture. We are therefore content with situations which
Englishmen would disdain. Our officials, our teachers, our
clerks, our workmen are less highly paid than in England,
and yet many of them succeed in saving something out of
their pittances. In England, they employ their money in
getting as much comfort as possible, and if there is a sur-
plus, why! they put it into some business — on their own
account.

Habits of economy, a way of living meanly, leave their
marks on the individual ; these stick to us — for nothing is
as tenacious as a habit — even when we have achieved for-
tune. We are content with a modicum of comfort and
just a little surface luxury — ezcept when we act like the
rich farmers of Normandy, of whom I have been speaking,
and who, in spite of their wealth, live miserably.

Men of our inferior classes can rise to wealth by means
of economy ; but they are not apt to rise socially — that is
to say, they do not know how to enjoy an affluent home
life.

III.

I have just driven from one of my lectures to lunch with
a family in the environs of Edinburgh. This visit is par-
ticularly interesting to me, because these people are sub-
scribers to La Science Sociale. This is a good opportunity
of judging of the impression wrought on English minds by
our social studies.

The home is a luxurious mansion. The family is com-
posed of the young husband, wife, and, if I rightly remem*
ber, three children. They live the whole year in the coun-
try, about four miles from Edinburgh. On our way I see
a large number of houses, which I am told are inhabited all
the year round. This permanent residing in the country,
even during the winter months, is characteristic of English

for the Struggle for Existence. 121

life. A young lady who is on the point of being married
tells me she, too, will live in the environs of Edinburgh,
although her huaband has his business in town. To my
surprise, she adds that the arrangement is more pleasant,
and that they feel more independent and more comfortable
than in the town. These two words," independence" and
"comfort," really sum up the Englishman's ideal in this
world. He can put up with relative isolation and a very
limited circle of acquaintances, and this faculty is, for a
race, an enormous source of strength.

I am welcomed with a cordiality which moves me, as a
f"iend whose ideas they know and whose opinions they
share. No doubt social science does not appeal to an Eng-
lish mind in the same way as to a French one. To charac-
terize this difEerence I should say that a Frenchman seeks
in it a rational system for the general direction of society ;
whereas an Englishman studies it w ith a view to improving
his own practical conduct. These two attitudes are repre-
sentative of the respective " formations" of the two nations ;
we are inclined to dabble in general ideas, they are disposed
to practical applications.

Indeed, that is the way this young couple apply social
science; they seek in it a rule for personal conduct. The
family own large rural property, which at the present time
is tenanted ; but the lease is to expire within a year. T: j>
lease will not be renewed, as my host intends to settle there
and direct his estate himself. Meanwhile, he is pradically
preparing himself for the work. He spends his days on a
neighbouring farm, in order to coach himself up for his
prospective duties, not only by means of books and theory,
but far more by daily practice.

I have noticed that Englishmen, even business men, who
spend most of their time in town, are better prepared for
an agricultural life than our own business men; they are

?^ '

122 How Anglo-Saxon Education Prepares

not thorough strangers to such matters, and can more easily
take to them. A young friend of ours, M. Bailhache, who
has accompanied me here, was received in the house of a
farmer who used to be manager of a branch bank. The
bank having closed, this gentleman hired a rather large es-
tate and turned farmer; I don't think we could find many
such examples in France.

This predisposition to agriculture seems to me to proceed
from the semi-rural education given to most English boys,
much of which is owing to residing in country houses sur-
rounded with gardens. We may add that their instinct,
as members of a Particularistic race, consists more in study-
ing the things than the persons around them. From early
life they find themselves in contact with nature, and form
a notion of rural life which harmonizes well with their
ideas of self-sufficiency. In their young days they have
raised plants, grown vegetables, or taken care of fowls or
animals. All these interests, which amongst us are the
exclusive business of country people, are here made to pene-
trate the minds of a great many people through the ordi-
nary process of education.,

One of my collaborators, M. Bureau, who, in view of his
social studies, went last summer to the United States, was
much struck by this side of education, even in town schools.
The Natural Sciences, and particularly, the study of plants
and animals, form much larger share of their work than in
our schools: these subjects are studied in a more practical
spirit, not only in books, but also from nature, and as much
as possible from living specimens. The pupils are required
to bring for next class, say a leaf or a branch of some tree
or other, which afterwards serves as an actual subject of
study, so as to bring home to them vivid notions by sight
and contact of the thing itself taken fresh from its natural
surroundings. Under such conditions, the teacher's ex-

for the Struggle for Existence. 123

planation must be singularly more effective and suggestive.
The pupils can be asked, Where did you pick such a plant?
On what kind of soil? Did you notice its outward appear-
ance, its conditions of growth, etc. ?

Such a method, however, is only possible if the boys live
in or near the country, or have some contact with the coun-
try, such as the possession of a golden or free access to one.

Taine has mentioned this love of the English for all
things pertaining to the country and country life. In a
drawing-room, says he (I am quoting from memory), the
conversation will run on agricultural topics. Details or
examples of the best methods, the rotation of crops, etc.,
will be discussed; all present, even the ladies, take an in-
terest in such subjects.

No wonder the wife of my host is quite as willing, quite
as ready as her husband to go and settle in the country on
their own farm. This lady talks the matter over with me
at length, as one who has made up her mind after coolly
weighing the pros and cons. \

If her husband stood in need of encouragement and sup-
port she would give both. This assistance on the part of
a wife is a source of great strength to a man. In France,
several friends of mine who own estates, and experience
some difficulty in finding good farmers, are quite disposed
to undertake working their own properties ; the great ob-
stacle to this is the wife's resistance. With us, women
are still more estranged from rural life than men ; they find
it harder to do without their numerous acquaintances, the
visiting, the worldly side of life. Women are, perhaps,
owing to the prejudiced way in which they consider it as
au inferior profession and infra dig., the principal stum-
bling-block to the renaissance of agriculture in France. A
young man can marry better — I mean he can find a better
dowered bride — if he be in the army or in the administra-

''MW

rt'

I
ft
1:

124 How Anglo-Saxon Education Prepares

tion. We are told that the clergy still have some influence
over women ; I would rather believe, for the sake of the
clergy's good name, that that is a mistaken notion.

I did not lecture on Saturdays or Sundays, all business
being suspended on these days, and every office and work-
shop closed from Saturday at twelve o'clock till Monday
morning. A paradoxical mind might here indulge in de-
monstrating that the English are of all people those who
wor^-, most and least at the same time. The fact is, noth-
ing is comparable to the working power of an Englishman,
unless it be his resting power.

The following will perhaps formulate more exactly the
actual fact : Englishmen produce, in the shortest period of
time, the greatest amount of work, so as to be able to take
afterwards the longest possible spell of rest.

In London I saw few shops open before 9 a.m. ; and they
close considerably earlier than in Paris. It is the same in
offices and all business places. Upon the whole, their
day's work is shorter than ours. It is therefore easy for
business men to go home to the suburbs, sometimes very
far out, as they seldom reside in the business quarters of
any town. I am told that in Edinburgh many shopkeepers
also live in the suburbs, and thus make every morning and
evening a somewhat long journey. In Franc"), on the con-
trary, most shopkeepers have their dwellings behind their
shops or on the floor above. They can thus open very
early and close very late. Moreover, many do not cease
work on Sundays, and none do so on Saturdays. It would
seem from this that the French work harder than the
English.

In this case, however, we ought not to count hours, but
weigh them. By the weight, I mean that the amount of
work turned out by the Englishman proves larger— that is,
he does more work in less time. He allows himself barely

for the Struggle for Existence. 125

suflBcient time for a hasty lunch in the middle of the day —
a meal which he often takes standing in his office and with-
out interrupting his work.

I spent my Saturday morning in visiting a coal-mine
situated in the neighbourhood of H

I made there the acquaintance of a young man, cousin of
the superintendent, who works a sheep-run in New Zea-
land. He comes home every other year to spend two
months in the old country. He is much pleased with New
Zealand, and is fixed there for good. "That's real life,"
he said to me. I asked him what fascinated him most in
that kind of life. "The independence of it," he answered
without hesitation. You see, the need of independence
is what actuates the whole life of an Er '^lishman j on what-
ever side we examine the subject we are bound to come to
this conclusion.

I asked him the best way to be successful in new coun-
tries. " The best way is to begin at the bottom as a sheep-
boy." So he began himself, although he belongs to an
excellent family. But among these people there is no fool-
ish calling, except the calling that does not pay.

Well, that of sheep-boy does pay, as such an apprentice-
ship is the only way to learn all about the country, i*nd —
in its smaller details — all that concerns a sheep-run. The
roughest part of such a debut is the contact with rude and
uneducated men ; " but if they have to do with a gentle-
man, " my ranchman went on, " they soon find it out, and
treat him with due consideration. Besides, you can always
avoid promiscuity by electing to live apart from them."
When our settler feels he knows something, he looks out
for a good opportunity of purchasing a run, which he now
can do with some experience. On the contrary, any one
who would wish to begin everything by establishing him-
self at once, would fall a victim to the agents, who would

126 How Anglo-Saxon Education Prepares

not fail to foist upon him unprofitable land and damaged
Hocks. I fancy few young French gentlemen would relish
such a way of entering a profession; and yet that is the
right way to do it, it is the way which leads on so many
young Anglo-Saxons to success.

IV.

I spent several afternoons in visiting some large resi-
dences. These families have their principal dwelling in
the country. The fact is apparent through the abundant
number of family pictures and the treasures of irt accumu-
lated in these houses. Some of them are combined palaces
and museums, of which many a large town might be proud.

I am told, however, that a certain number of these large
land-owners are in embarrassed situation, and find them-
selves compelled to sell their land. Such is the case with
one family whose castle and park we visit. The family
belongs to the old Scotch aristocracy of Celtic origin. From
all I hear, it seems they were subjected to the same evolu-
tion as most of our old French families. They kept away
from work, and only preserved their status, until now,
thanks to the law of primogeniture, to which may be added
the advantage received by the system of entail. In spite
of these artificial means, many of these families are now-
adays on the road to ruin.

The English aristocracy is evidently not a product of the
Anglo-Saxon social state. Societies of a Particularistic
formation do not produce such an institution. No hered-
itary superior class is to be found among people of this
type, if pure and isolated from foreign influence, as in
Norway and certain parts of the Saxony plains. There the
land-owning farmer has maintained himself without ad-
mixture of another class. Neither is there any hereditary

for the Struggle for Existence. 127

aristocracy forming in new countries where the Anglo-
Saxon type prevails, such as the United States, Australia,
New Zealand, etc.

Nor need we wonder. It is a matter of course. What
indeed is the most essential constituent of the Particular-
istic formation? It is the establishing of each child in
full independence, through his own exertions and without
the assistance of the family.

That is what the English sum up in these two phrases :
Self-help and the Struggle for Life ! No doubt the Eng-
lish aristocracy, with their primogeniture and law of entail,
rest on a totally different basis ; their principles are those
of Communistic races, namely, the establishing of the first-
born with the assistance of the family group, — an arrange-
ment which reduces to a minimum the activity required of
the young man, and dispenses with the need of helping
himself or struggling in any way for existence. The eldest
child, in the English aristocracy, is placed under Commu-
nistic regime.

Whence comes English hereditary aristocracy? It was
imported from outside. It hailed from the Continent and
came with William the Conqueror.

We now know that the Norman conquerors belonged to
the Communistic formation j they were recruited in a good
many places, with promises of booty, which attracted into
their ranks disreputable men, mostly outcasts, or men who
had nothing to attach them to the soil. Historical docu-
ments leave little to be desired in the way of information
as to the composition of William's army; the history of
the establishment of the Normans in England is well-
known. They simply placed themselves above the popu-
lation, and shared the great estates, the best lands — but
without fixing themselves firmly to the soil after the Saxon
fashion, that is to say, after the fashion of emigrants of a

1 28 How Anglo-Saxon Education Prepares

Particularistic origin. The Saxon, oppressed by the Nor-
man, went on tilling the ground for the latter. The strug-
gle between Norman and Saxon is really a struggle between
two absolutely opposite social formations.

If the Normans did not plant themselves firmly in the
soil, they at least planted themselves as deeply as they
could in the essentially Communistic system of an hered-
itary aristocracy. This system is still extant^ and it can
be said that it has succeeded in grievously deforming for
centuries the Anglo-Saxon, or Particularistic type in Eng-
land. I have not now to explain how the latter finally
won the day, thanks to its extraordinary resisting power
and infinitely superior vitality. Its triumph had as a re-
sult the reduction of the kingly power to its simplest ex-
pression : the English at last obtained self-government—
an essentially Particularistic boon — at the very moment
when France, a prey again to Communistic State forma-
tion, was meeting with autocracy at the hands of Louis XIV.

But there has remained in England something of the
Norman excrescence: the hereditary aristocracy. This,
like monarchy, has been reduced to a merely honorary con-
dition, except for a few political prerogatives, such as re-
cruiting the Upper House. This privilege has not yet
been seriously contested, because the people have found in
it hitherto more advantages than otherwise. I will explain.
The Englishman — I mean the average Englishman, who
partakes of Particularistic origin — is naturally inclined to
adopt a lucrative profession ; he is naturally drawn towards
business, from the necessity in which all young people find
themselves, of creating for themselves a situation, instead
of relying for it on paternal finances or a wife's dowry.
Moreover, he is drawn in that direction by the very busi-
ness capacity which is developed even from childhood by
the certain prospect of such a necessity.

for the Struggle for Existence. 129

When this tendency is once well understood, we can
easily find out what kind of advantages the English could
appreciate in the hereditary nobility enforced upon them :
they shrewdly saw a chance of causing to be fulfilled by
others (most elegantly, and in a manner most gratifying to
their amour-propre), the unavoidable functions of politics,
which have no particular fascination for themselves. There
is no doubt whatever that their aristocracy has furnished
them generations of superior politicians.

On the other hand, this aristocracy has not been — at
least for the last hundred years or so — very troublesome,
thanks to the stout and continuous resistance of the Par-
ticularistic or Saxon spirit.

The Particularistic influence has acted in two ways.

First, this inf uence induced more and more the younger
sons of the nobility to give up idle lives, the Court, and
those administrative and military functions which were the
only refuge offered to our cadets — and led them, like their
elders, not only to rum, but to impotence. The English
younger sons have been drawn into the great current of
active life which characterizes Particularistic societies.
Consequently, when circumstances, sucl' as the extinction
of the direct branch, called any of them to the peerage,
they infused new blood into it — that of men trained to
practical business by the exercise of Agriculture, Industry,
and Commerce. These men thus periodically revived an
institution which — if left to itself — would have speedily
fallen into decay. Moreover, the vitality of the peerage
was strengthened by elements drawn directly from an An-
glian source with the creation of peers of a Saxon origin.

Particularistic influence also acted in another way. It
gradually suppressed, on the part of the nobility, as well
as on the part of the kings, every temptation to touch in-
dividual liberty or trifle with the rights of citizens. If the

130 How Anglo-Saxon Education Prepares

individualist does not care for politics, if he has no wish to
make a livelihood out of politics, he is most impatient of
any hindrance to the free working of his initiative in build-
ing up his own fortune. He allows no putting of spokes
in the wheel of Agriculture, Industry or Commerce; he
means to be handicapped neither by an arbitrary government
nor by ar>v excess of taxes. His constant tendency is there-
fore to confine the powers that be to the maintenance of
public peace, without which no business is possible. The
tendency in Communistic societies is, on the contrary, to
disturb as much as possible the public peace, in order to
ensure for one's self or children, by the triumphs of one's
party, some cosy administrative sinecure, since the ideal of
all shrewd people is understood to be to live on the budget.
There was no other reason for our several revolutions j there
is no other reason for the revolutions which are of daily
occurrence in Southern America.

Thus the practice of self-government has had as a result
the removal from the English nobility of all objectionable
or troublesome privileges.

Although the hereditary nobility is in England an im-
ported article, it has nevertheless exerted ver^ real influence
on the social type. It has seriously deformed it ; and upon
the whole its influence has been more noxious than useful.

The Particularistic formation rests essentially on the
idea that a man has no value but his own individual value
enhanced by his power of work, energy, and perseverance,
and that a man's place in the social scale is determined by
his possession of these qualities. The introduction of an
hereditary superior class has grafted on to this the Com-
munistic notion that a man has independently of himself a
value derived from his family, group, or clan. This, I
repeat, is a serious deformity, a modification in the very
basis of the soci 1 type.

ares

for the Struggle for Existence. 1 3 1

ish to
3nt of
build-
jpokes
e; lie
nment
there-
nce of
The
ary, to
:der to
i one's
deal of
audget.
J there
>f daily

1 result
ionable

Such a conception is not too shocking to us on the Con-
tinent, because we are all more or less imbued with the
Communistic spirit, and therefore look upon the family or
clan hierarchy as a matter of course. But it is not so in
England, at least with the mass of the population, where the
Particularistic formation is firmly established. Often have
I come across the expression of this feeling, which is bril-
liantly depicted in a celebrated sketch by Thackeray, " The
Book of Snobs," the aim of which is to cover with ridicule
the British infatuation for the nobility. A snob is a man
who admires and imitates everything that is said or done
by persons belonging to the nobility ; who by every possible
means, endeavours to creep in among them, or to have
something in common with them ; who does not appreciate
men or things through his own judgment, but through the
opinions known to prevail amongst those select few.

" We have cause to be surprised, " wrote Thackeray, " at
the dimensions and importance attained by Lordolatry."
(Do not forget that this was written in 1848, when the vice
was more rampant than now.) " In this, our * liberal ' coun-
try, the worship of the Peerage is flourishing like the Bib-
lical green bay tree. Every Jack — and Jill — of us is lord-
stricken; we all, more or less, grovel in the mud, at the
feet of some Presence. I believe the influence of the Peer-
age on Snobbishness to be most direct and extensive. . . .
The preservation, progress, and increase of Snobbery are
boons for which we may thank the nobility."

After thus introducing the subject, Thackeray causes to
file past us a whole series of snobs belonging to different
classes of society, and whose grotesque characters he de-
picts in indelible strokes.

Mark that snobbishness is quite as common in France as
in England. We, too, are all more or less snobs ; but there
is the great difference that this failing is with us the

' m

132 How Anglo-Saxon Education Prepares

■1;

natural result of our social state, whereas, in England, it is
but an artificial increment which can easily be corrected.

This improvement is actually taking place. There is no
doubt but that this influence on the part of the peerage is
on the wane j it is already much less perceptible than at the
time (not so distant) when Thackeray wrote. The position
of the British aristocracy, o2 the peerage, does not seem so
secure — a fact made evident by the decreasing importance
of the House of Lords. The question of its suppression is
even openly discussed, and such an event would in no way
shake or damage the Constitution, to whose machinery it
is but an arbitrary addition.

There would not result any lack of a superior class in
England, as the Particularistic type does produce such an
organism although in different conditions. In fact, this
organism exists in England, and has never ceased to be at
work ; it is represented by the gentleman. The gentleman
differs from the lord, or the noble, in this — that his posi-
tion is not hereditary, but purely personal ; not consecrated
by the public powers, but by opinion. People will say,
" So-and-So is, or is not, a gentleman, " and by this quali-
fication is implied an ensemble of qualities and virtues which
can hardly be defined, but which I fancy could be summed
up in the English word "respectability."

There are gentlemen in all walks of life, in all profes-
sions ; but public opinion often refuses this title to a man
of high birth whose life lacks dignity.

The gentleman is the Saxon form of a superior class, as
the noble is the Norman form.

The movement which tends to free England from snob-
bery is strengthened by still another cause.

Amongst us, a man's social status is determined by his
trade or profession ! like the Hindoos, who are also divided
into castes, we profess to believe that there are pure and

for the Struggle for Existence. 133

impure callings, callings which are genteel and callings
which are not. The army, the liberal professions, the Ad-
ministration, belong to the former ; the latter comprise in-
dustry and commerce, and, we may add, agriculture, whose
practice we leave to our farmers, or managers. We do not
see many "society" young men going in for colonizing
work. Thus the spirit of caste, of which snobbery is but
a ridiculous manifestation, is strengthened in us by the ex-
clusive exercise of some professions and the repugnance to
others — which draws a definite line between the castes, and
at the same time labels each.

This line of demarcation does not exist, or at least is
dying out in the Anglo-Saxon world. In the United States,
where the Particularistic form is more free from any Nor-
man influence, this division of trades and professions has
almost entirely disappeared, and the man's value is esti-
mated chiefly in proportion to his energy, endurance, and
power of initiative. In England an evolution is taking
place in this direction. This is a consequence of the extraor-
dinary impulse given to the commoner professions by the
rise of larger industries and the increased rapidity of trans-
port — which themselves are consequent upon the discovery
of coal-mines. This new state of things, whose rapid event
made the Communistic societies giddy, gave, on the con-
trary, a tremendous impulse to the Particularistic societies,
which were prepared to adapt themselves to the new condi-
tions.

Thus England, long hindered and somewhat smothered
by the traditions and institutions imported by the Norman
invaders, is gradually taking possession of herself again,
and returning to her Anglo-Saxon social constitution, to her
Particularistic formation. Nothing henceforth can stop
this unavoidable evolution.

And if you would see where this evolution leads to, con-

134 The Struggle for Existence.

aider the American society in the States, where the Anglo-
Saxon type is now re-forming in all its purity and power,
thanks to the large extent of territories opened to individual
enterprise, thanks also to the absence of an hereditary su-
perior class imposed on the people by conquest.

The Anglo-Saxon's Success. 135

CHAPTER IV.

HOW HIS MODE OP HOME-LIFE CONTRIBUTES TO THE ANGLO-
SAXON'S SUCCESS.

THE great difficulty which confronts those who would find
the right bearings and lead society towards a better
state, is how to make out — not only what the final goal
ought to be, but also the way to get there. What is the
good of knowing the end if we cannot reach it? Moreover,
throup^ not knowing exactly the way, we may get to an
end totally different from that intended.

To fix a starting-point, and show what the first stage
ought to be, is therefore putting the reader on the right
track.

During my different sojourns in England I was much oc-
cupied with the grave question of the evolution of the social
types. The country was a singular! good one for obser-
vations of this kind, for there is not perhaps on the surface
of the globe another where are to be found, in close associa-
tion, so many varieties of the Communistic and Particular-
istic formations.

A very varied scale is to be found in the United States,
too, but I fancy in conditions less favourable for observa-
tion. There indeed the different types appear outside their
native sphere, having been uprooted, so to say, from a hun-
dred spots in old Europe, so that their origin is at times
doubtful ; their evolution takes place amidst fresh surround-
ings, and they are still subjected to a process of social fer-
mentation which keeps them — if I may so say — in a state
of suspense.

136 How His Home-Life Contributes

-:^'^ J

• r

In England, the fermentation has long been over. The
Communistic Celt and Particularistic Anglo-Saxon are fixed
into their natural social forms, to the great convenience of
the observer. In Great Britain, we come across specimens
of the whole series of social types, from the pure Celt of
the Scottish Highlands or of Ireland, to the Saxon of the
South and Midlands, with all the intermediate varieties.
How interesting it would be to be able to classify them
in series, so as to determine the different stages of the
evolution of a Communistic Celt, into a Particularistic
Saxon !

Great Britain is indeed like a gigantic still in which, by
a process of continuous distillation, the Celts are being
gradually Saxonized in virtue of this law — that when two
social types are brought together, the more resisting tends
to assimilate the other. Here, the more resisting is un-
doubtedly the Saxon.

England is therefore the best place for convenient"'y ex-
amining the initial manifestation of that evolution towards
the Particularistic State. At what point of his social life
does the Celt begin to feel Saxon influence? What percep-
tible phenomenon announces that a Communistic subject
is actually entering on his evolution, and therefore already
constitutes a Particularistic variety — if I may so say — in
the first degre'^?

I do not think I am mistaken in stating that the first
manifestation of the evolution is to be found in the mode
oi a man's home-life.

I had a first perception of this fact in the environs of
Edinburgh, whilst visiting the coal-mine and the farm, to
which I have before alluded. I mentioned the contrast *
presented, even at the first glance, by two kinds of dwell-
ings : the first, inhabited by Scotch workmen of the Low-
* Vide preceding chapter, p. 117.

to the Anglo-Saxon's Success. 137

. The
L'e fixed
euce of
(cimens
Celt of

of the
.rieties.
y them

of the
ilaristic

lich, by
e being
len two
ig tends
is un-

hf^y ex-

bowards

cial life

3ercep-

subject

already

ay~in

ihe first
mode

rons of
irm, to
itrast *
dwell-
e Low-

lands, and kept with extreme care ; the other, occupied by
Irish (Celtic) workmen, dirty and miserable-looking.

This contrast called my attention to the importance of
the home as a starting-point in the social evolution.

This is indeed the starting-point, for these Scotch work-
men of the Lowlands still partake of their original Com-
munistic formation.* But the most obvious point in which
they part from it, and are to be distinguished from the
Irish pure Communists and the Highlanders, is the in-
stinctive desire to form a comfortable home. These Scotch
workmen are Communistic subjects on the way to become
Individualists in the first stage of the evolution, and their
mode of home-life is what essentially distinguishes them.

Thus was I brought to realize that the first step in the
evolution towards the Particularistic State is the transfor-
mation of the home.

Many economists, sociologists, and philanthropists hat -
clearly seen and pointed out the social importance of the
home. Le Play saw it better and more clearly than any
other writer, and described the phenomenon at length,
bringing to bear on it a wealth of facts.

The stability/ of the home^ the ownership of the home, the
integral transmission of the home, have often been pointed
out as essential reforms towards the improvement of indi-
viduals, families, and societies.

These three points, indeed, would constitute important
reforms, and often are evidence of perceptible improvement
in the social state. But they have no effect in aiding the
evolution from the Communistic to the Particularistic form.

Proof positive of this is to be found in the fact that

* See the articles of M. de Calan on the Scotch Highlanders and
Lowlanders in La Science Sociale, tomes XIX. and XX.

■ si

k 4

138 How His Home-Life Contributes

numerous examples of the three points (stability, ownership,
and integral transmission of the home) are to be found in-
differently in the two social states. We may therefore be
allowed to say that such examples are neutral phenomena.

If we look closely at things, we may be led to state that
these three points are at times more accentuated among
Communistic populations than others.

There cannot be under heaven any homes more stable
than those of the Russian, Bulgarian, or Servian peasants ;
these homes have been transmitted from father to son, or
at least from community to community, since time im-
memorial. In France, the home is most stable in Auvergne,
'n the Cevennes, in the Pyrenees, in the Alps, and in Brit-
tany. Now, these populations are precisely those which in
our country preserve best the Communistic traditions.

It is also to these populations, or to populations of the
same type, that we must turn to find the most general prac-
tice of the principles of ownership and integral transmis-
sion of the home.

In order to clearly realize the distinction, we should
recognize two quite distinct notions of the home, the one
proper to Communistic races, the other peculiar to Particu-
laristic races.

The first considers the home as a material thing.

The second considers the home as a moral thing, an ab-
straction.

Without this distinction, which has never been made be-
fore, we could not account with any exactness for the two
fundamental forms of home-life.

In societies of a Communistic formation, the idea of
home is represented by a property — whether dwelling or
estate — and a group of persons, which includes relatives,
friends, and neighbors. The people are attached most to
the place and the persons; the more so because in their social

to the Anglo-Saxon's Success. 139

state they are inclined to lean on things and persons rather
than on self.

There is a popular saying in Auvergue and in the Py-
reneeS; which goes, "The house must go on smoking."
Indeed, to keep the chimney-pot smoking, t^*' y are capable
of any sacrifice. The younger sons acci )'t reductions in
their lawful shares of the patrimony ; uncle., and aunts re-
main single in order not to prevent the chosen heir preserv-
ing the house and estate, where perhaps they shall be granted
shelter, and where at any rate they may find help.

Upon the whole, their idea of home seems connected
with such a house, such and such a particular place — which
explains the hardship ♦^ey experiencein having to leave
it: they seem attached t t'< soil and to the very stones.
Hence the strong lov^ of > . )se peasants for the paternal
house and the famih ^^r .perty, hence their desire to pre-
serve it and transmit it ^roin generation to generation.

In this way do tl ^.old for the stability of the home,
for its ownership within the family, for its integral trans-
mission. They are attached to it as ivy is attached to an
old wall ; and, as a matter of fact, they are in a way sup-
ported by the house, as the ivy by the wall.

But — mark this well — in this traditional home, on this
family property, Communistij populations seek or find
little comfort. Nothing could be more striking for the
close observer than the contrast between the extraordinary
stability of the home and the very rudimentary character
of their installations.

Enter the home of a Russian peasant, or that of a Bul-
garian, an i uvergnat, a Pyrenean, a Provencal, or a Breton,
and question the man. Nine times out of ten he will tell
you that his family has occupied the house for generations.
Here is the stability of a home with a vengeance! Indeed,
the man loves his home with a love that cannot be uprooted.

tid.

I k

•M-

'•Wf i T

; ir: Ik'

li!'

140 Kow His Home-Life Contributes

But look at the interior of the house. Why, it is like
the encampment of some family who have had no time to
fix themselves — a few ill-kept articles of furniture in a
kitchen and one other room; both rooms dark and dirty.
Very often there is but one room — kitchen, dining-room,
and bedroom combined — for the whole family. Sometimes
the stable is close to the living-room, barely separated from
it by a mere plank partition, through which a peculiar smell
betrays the undesirable vicinity. So these people, who are
so fond of their homes^ do not seem to care for comfort
within.

The fact is, they do not love the home for its own sake,
but for the support it will offer them, for the good name it
helps them to keep. They are proud to belong to such and
such a family, which has been fixed so long in the country,
which has owned so long the same patrimonial estate and is
connected by marriage with other families whose homes are
as old and as stable.

If thev own a fine chest of drawers, choke full of linen
and clothes — as is often the case with these peasants — that
is because this personal and visible luxury is but another
means of shining out-of-doors, and giving the neighbours or
strangers a high idea of their position. This is of more
moment to them than t'^ enjoy real comfort inside their
house. Upon the whole, the Communist lives more out-of-
doors and for others, than at home and for himself.

This tendency is quite perceptible among the bourgeois
in our large towns, although as a rule the stability of the
home has then disappeared.

The characteristic type of the Parisian home is the large
house composed of many stories and numerous flats {ap-
partements) . When beholding from the street these five
and six-storied palaces, a stranger might be tempted to
think, " Here are grand establishments ! These people

nity,

to the Anglo-Saxon's Success. 141

is like
time to
re in a
1 dirty,
g-room,
□aetimes
ed from
ar smell
who are
comfort

m sake,
name it
mch and
country,
te and is
omes are

of linen
s — that
another
Dours or
of more
e their
e out-of-

■

bourgeois
;y of the

;he large
ats (a^^-
lese five
ipted to
} people

must be sacrificing everything for home-life." But go in-
side: entrance is easy enough. The house is composed of
compartments, with as many families as there a.e stories,
sometimes more families than stories. The place is
crowded. Well, enter one of the apparfemcnts. You will
see first the drawing-room and the dining-room ; these two
rooms are rather large, well decorated, and generally over-
look the street. The bedrooms you will find at the back
of the house — small, very small rooms, overlooking a court-
yard, which is more like a huge well, admitting no air and
no light. Such is the home of the family — the bedrooms,
not the front rooms, which are reserved for show, and are
called the "reception rooms."

The botirf/eoiSf like the peasant and the workman, in this
social type — has no notion of comfort in the home.

Comfort in the home is, on the contrary, the first consid-
eration developed by the Particularistic formation.

That is because man here does not lean on the commu-
nity, on his family or circle of ronnections ; he relies on
himself alone, and provides a home for himself. He settles
himself — he does not camp. He gives less to out-of-door
life, and more to home-life. He has a way of looking upon
his home as the citadel of his independence. He names it
by a name which expresses much more than his house, and
which, as it has no equivalent in French, I cannot translate
— Home.

This Saxon word evokes an idea less material and definite
than our own word le foyer, " the hearth.'' It means rather
the iuterior arrangement, the comfort of every-day life,
which is characteristic of the Anglo-Saxon home, whether
in the farmhouse, town dwelling, or workman's cottage.

I am not praising this form of home. I am only endeav-
ouring to realize its import and to describe it. Two utterly
different forms of society start their respective evolution

142 How His Home-Life Contributes

'ft

m
m

iSi:
'm

from this poiiio, and in contrary directions. Surely wo
must do our best to see things as clearly as possible.

These two different notions of the home bring forth two
facts which shed a good deal of light on the subject.

1. In tJm PortlculttrlstiG fi)rm the dn'ellinfj assumes less
ImjKH'tanvc than in the. Communistic form of society.

The Particularistic dwelling par excellence is what goes
in Franco by the English name of "cottage," which we un-
derstand to be a small country house, comprising just the
number of rooms necessary for an ordinary family. This
house is generally completed by a garden whose size corre-
sponds to the financial position of the family.

In England, these houses are scattered all over the coun-
try, being thicker, of course, in the neighbourhood and en-
virons of large towns ; for your citizen is fond of living extra
muros. Even within the towns a little house for each family
is the rule — an arrangement well representative of the idea
of home amongst the Anglo-Saxon race. This explains the
large area of English towns in proportion to their population.

On the other hand, the Communistic dwelling is a large
house with large rooms, devised not for one, but for several
families living in a state of community. Such are the
Italian houses; such are, in our provincial towns, many
large dwelling-houses in which the smaller families of later
days appear as lost ; such are also our country chateaux.
How many families, unless they follow the wiser course of
cantoning themselves in one wing of these enormous build-
ings, nowadays go to ruin, solely through wishing to keep
up these white elephants !

Compare these large buildings and chateaux to the little
English houses, and you will clearly see one of the charac-
teristic differences between the two social forms.

2. In the Particularistic form of society^ families find it
easier to shift their dwellings.

to the Anirlo-Saxun's Success.

'43

Communists are, as wo have seen, deeply attached to the
family dwelling ; their stay-at-home propensities are natural
enough when we think that they draw the greater part of
their strength from that material framework.

The Particularist, ou the contrary, finds it extremely easy
to change his surroundings. lie shows no hesitation, when
opportunity offers of bettering his position, in changing his
residence, even from one end of the world to the other.
That is because he looks more to the future than to the
past, because he relies more on his own individual enter-
prise than on any traditional or family institutions. In-
deed, his origin is responsible for the little country house
in which he lives, for man is less held by a small dwelling
than by a large one: he is master of the house, not the
house of his master. He is not attached to the stones, nor
the stbnes to him.

Is this, then, the instability of the home?

Not so. The Particularist' s home is as stable as that of
the Communist, although in a different way. To under-
stand this apparent contradiction we should remember the
distinction already drawn between the character of the ex-
terior of the dwelling and that of the interior. With the
Communist, the stability of the home refers to the exterior
dwelling; with the Particularist the stability concerns the
interior installation. The Communist always looks as if
he were only encamped on his traditional habitation ; the
Particularist seems as though he had been fixed for cen-
turies into his transitory dwelling. His installation is always
comfortable, even if it be but for a few days at some hotel
(the English, as is well known, have caused all the hotels
on the Continent to be improved), even if it be but for a
few hours in a railway carriage — a fact, that has won them
the reputation of making themselves always comfortable
{ne pas se gener)l What is paramount 'ith the English-

144 How His Home-Life Contributes

man is comfort — and wlio would contend that comfort
within the home is not as important as the beams and the
very walls? Who will tell us that a man's comfort is not
closely connected with his daily life, or that it does not
exert the strongest influence over his social life?

There are two kinds of stability : one material, and the
other moral; the first is much more important than the
other. Quod est demonstrandum,

It muL't be so, since a proper and comfortably furnished
home is the first phenomenon exhibited by men who are
beginning their evoiution towards the Particularistic form.
At first blush, the cause of this transformation is not quite
clear to the observer. The cause must be elucidated.

I perceive three social consequences of such a mode of
home-life. It will be seen that these consequences tend to
endow the man with the qualities essential to the Particu-
laristic formation.

1. Such a mode of home-life develops feelings of dignity
and independence.

Represent to yourself as exactly as possible the shabby
shelter of the Irish workmen just alluded to, or the no less
rudimentary hovels of most of our own labourers or work-
men ; try to call to mind some such examples which you
may have seen. Imagine people brought up from child-
hood amidst such surroundings, and living day by day in
what is often little better than a wigwam. Evidently such
surroundings can hardly foster feelings of independence.

A man is more or less what he looks. A good many
people have no other dignity than that conferred upon them
by the clothes they don — whether the magistrate's gown,
the soldier's uniform, or any of those plumes, laces, and

1 •':■■'.

to the Anglo-Saxon's Success. 145

decorations which appeal to mankind, and under which men
take themselves so much an serieux. Such influences are
not to be disdained.

The influence of a proper dwelling is most powerful, be-
ing exercised, as it is, over the most intimate portion of a
man's life, and being of a permanent effect.

No doubt the labourer whose abode I visited at H ,

and the Penicuik mechanic who gave me tea, were directly
and powerfully influenced by the tidiness and comfort in
their homes. The relative affluence of their circumstances
gave them a higher opinion of themselves and a keener no-
tion of their own dignity and independence. Whenever
either entered his bonny cottage, he felt a responsible mem-
ber of society, and conscious — as the English have it — of
his respectability.

Now, a man who is conscious of his respectability is
naturally inclined to increase it; for the first step of the
ladder is the most difficult to climb, and those men had
already climbed it.

2. Such a mode of home-life encourages exertion.

Populations accustomed to simplicity of living and to
scanty accommodation in their homes, are satisfied with
little; small profits are good enough for them. Their am-
bition is limited and easily contented. Mediocrity, not
necessarily golden, is the fashion among them. Not so
here. A more ornate way of living, a certain fastidious-
ness in the appointment of his home, provoke the man to
exert himself, and keep him up to it.

He is the better kept up to it because the result of his
work is always neai at hand. I can well fancy my Penicuik
mechanic anxious to acquire a side-board, a piano for his
wife, or a large carpet to adorn his parlour; of course, his
anxiety to get these objects is a stimulus: he'll work the
harder and puzzle his brain to find out how he may increase
10

146 How His Home-Life Contributes

his returns. The thousands of workmen who in England
and in America attend and pay the fees of the University
Extension Lectures, are living proofs of that tendency to
exert themselves : they do not shrink from this overtime
study in order to improve their positions.

You may tell me that the passion of economy which dis-
tinguishes part of our working population is also a stimulus
to work and exertion. True ; but it is not such a powerful
stimulus. If you save for your children, you are working
for others who will gather the fruits of your efforts only
after your death. This requires almost heroism — an attri-
bute by no means common in human beings. If you save
for yourself, with a view to investing the money, you will
soon be discouraged, especially if you are a workman, ow-
ing to the largeness of the sums needed if the increase in
the income is to be at all perceptible. It wants a great
many days' work for a workman to put by one hundred
francs, which only means an increase of three francs in his
yearly income. This result is too feeble and too far off —
not worth the exertion. Indeed, with all the institutions
founded to promote thrift in the working classes, how small
are the results! Without any encouragement on the part
of the Government, the Anglo-Saxon workman succeeds in
investing in comfort considerably larger sums.

That is money spent, not saved, you will say. Spent,
yes ; but not wasted. Indeed that money has been investea
at a very high interest — not three per cent., but a hundred
per cent. — it hay been invested in the increase of his work-
power.

This man, who bought a side-board, a piano, a carpet,
enjoys his money' s worth, the fruit of his work, immediatelt/,
integrally y and daily. Place side by side the enjoyment
reaped by a man who, having put by X4, has the satisfac-
tion to receive one half-crown interest every year, and the

Qan, ow-

to the Anglo-Saxon's Succci>s. 147

enjoyment secured by a man who having put by £4 imme-
diately purchases the object he wants, or the greater com-
fort of his home and his own daily enjoyment.

Such a satisfaction encourages and incites him to fresh
efforts in order to procure a larger and more comfortable
residence, or of improving his present position. Every im-
provement in his home is an inducement to make it still
more complete, more beautiful, more refined ; he becomes
more and more fastidious, and as his work is the only means
of providing for his increasing wants, he is the more in-
clined to greater activity.

And as aptness for continuous effort is one of the es-
sential traits which accentuate the difference between the
Particularist and the Communist, this man is therefore
gradually evolving into a Particularist. So the mode of
home-life marks the genesis of this evolution.

You may be curious to know what would become of that
man in case of illness, and what would become of his family
if he died. In order to provide against these two contin-
gencies, he insures (you kuow the prodigious development of
Assurance in Great Britain and in the United States) ; then,
feeling safe against the worst, he is at liberty to pursue his
improvements in domestic installation.

3. Such a mode of homcHfe refines the individual.

I wish to call the reader' s attention most particularly to
this consequence. It is, perhaps, most characteristic of the
Particularistic form, and distinguishes it best from the
Communistic. As yet no light has been shed on it, for its
discovery proceeds from the foregoing observations on the
Anglo-Saxon home.

The Communistic formation naturally produces an es-
sentially narrow hierarchy ; the limits of rank and classes
are definitely fixed, and passage from an inferior to a su-
perior class is very difficult. The workman is at great

148 How His Home-Lift: Contributes

III

pains to become a bm ^opnt's^ au if he succp 1;^ in doing so
through sheer wealth, he ^e.nair 3 a workman in manners
and bearing in his nabit^, Lis t bies, and his way of living.
He is not easily fashioned into a gentleman; he is not in-
clined to refinement. This is to be explained by the fact
that his social rise is generally due to the saving power
whose cause I have mentioned. Now, the instruments of
such economy are principally a narrow, mean way of living
and all kinds of privations ; saving is practised m the dwell-
ing, in the clothing, in the furniture, in recreation. The
men who most rapidly rise to fortune are those that save
most — i.e. the men who live most like beggars. And when
such men have acquired wealth, they go on living like beg-
gars, for habit has made such a life a necessity and a satis-
faction for them.

I have been enabled to study a most representative ex-
ample in the case of a pvovintjial manufacturer. This man
began forty years ago as ?, pedlar ; he used to sell whips
and sundry light articles of saddlery which he hawked from
place to place. When he had realized a sufficient sum of
money, he purchased a amall foundry with hydraulic motor,
and began to manufacture for himself the bits and differ-
ent ipp^'^l articles pertaining to his trade. When I knew
him, tow lids the end of his life, he employed about forty
workmen, and had bought with his savings a country estate
ox some two hundred and fifty acres, besides three or four
neighbouring houses, and considerable stock in his foundry.
He died a short time ago, and so did his wife, without leav-
ing any children. His fortune, valued at 400,000 or 600,-
000 francs (between £16,000 and £20,000 sterling), was
divided amongst his nephews and nieces. Well, this man
lived to the end like a workman — (a pretty use of fortune!) ;
he had preserved the language, manners, and dress of a
workman — and I mean here the language of a vulgar work-

I'm

'' V.'

' /' '. .-■* .,.;•:--,■ -■

to the Anglo-Saxon's Success. 149

man — vulgar manners, and careless dress, to say notliing
more. I often saw him filing Lis ovi- gondr. like o'le of liis
ticinds. This man had acbio-^'e 1 woalth, ,.nd i e* \>\i.d rot
succeeded in rising in the social hiera*' hy.

Why? Simply because he had not imb^iei .uom cMld-
hood, in his father's house, a habit of digtitj ., ?ioi' tlie need
of a comfortable life, with the manners that a(H?cru Tii-itii it.

Among the different types met with in Freiicl: society
there is one, the Auvergnat, who is gifted with a remark-
able aptitude for trade, and a no less remarkable tendency
to economy. It is not my business here to investigate the
causes of these qualities. The Auvergnat, who by dint of
saving halfpence often succeeds in acquiring a certain
amount of wealth, never succeeds in rising above the posi-
tion of a retailer, and succeeds even less in refining him-
self. He persists always in his habits of the peasants of
Auvergne, who — I appeal to all who have visited Auvergne
— are hardly distinguished by teiiue, cleanliness, or good
manners. The dwelling of an Auvergne peasant is the
most primitive and--to call things by thei • names — the
dirtiest you can imagine. We know (M. de liousiers and
myself) how difficult it was on our part to partake of a few
meals amongst them, and how hard we fouiid it. to surmount
the repugnance natural to civilized m • j . Y\'o were in need
indeed of all the will-power inspired by ^, scientific desire to
closely observe social phenomena.

Notwithstanding the sobriety and habiu^ of thrift, such
a home training is what nullifies iu part the commercial
abilities of most Auvergnats, and decidedly disqualifies
them for any social i^rogress. This phenomenon it exhib-
ited most strikingly in the monograph, P Auvergnat hrocan-
teur a Paris.* " Second-hand dealers may be classified into
two categories: the Auvergnats and the Kormans,, Both
* "Ouvricrs des Deux Moiides, " t. iv., pp. 311, 312.

150 How His Home-Life Contributes

kinds are abstemious and thrifty, and keep apart from the
Parisian workmen, whose habits of dissipation they dislike
(I should think so!). . . . The Auvergnat buys old clothes,,
and especially old hats and shoes ; but he is not so good an
expert as his competitor, and always shows distrust of him
whenever they are called together in a house to conclude a
bargain. The Norman is shreivder and viore politey and,
thanks to his better manners and outward appearance^ in-
spires more confidence; he is better dressed, and speaks
more civilly ; his superior skill enables him to triumph over
his competitor under nearly all circumstances. In conse-
quence, the Auvergnat, in spite of his tenacity and perse-
verance, is yielding to the Norman the lucrative trade of
second-hand clothes, and falling back on rags, bones, old
iron, and rabbits' skins."

This mere detail is a good indication of how a rude home
training prevents a man from rising even in trade, which
does not require a very high education. No doubt a cer-
tain amount of comfort in these people's homes would be a
safe in 'estment.

That is precisely the investment which lies in the Par-
cicularistic home of the Anglo-Saxon race.

Let us return to our workmen of the environs of Edin-
burgh. They have been brought up, and bring up their
children, in homes which, if modest, at any rate impart to
them a certain dignity in their modes of habitation, cos-
tume, language, and manners. They are, perhaps, not yet
refined men, but they have passed the first process ot re-
finement, and are ripe for further progress. Let their op-
portunity of improvement only arise (their aptitude for
work soon brings that to pass), and they can do full honour
to their new position. At any rate, they have not within
themselves an obstacle to their own progress.

In short, such a mode of home life, even among the work-

to the Anglo-Saxon's Success. 151

ing classes, makes men fit to become gentlemen who will not
be out of place when brought into any superior positions
they may in the future be called to fill.

I am almost tempted to write — the fact strikes me as so
obvious, and my experience has been so general and con-
clusive, that the Particularistic formation does not admit of
an hereditary inferior class, as is the case with the Com-
munistic formation. That is precisely why Particularist
populations are more advanced towards the solution of the
social question, and particularly of the Working-Class ques-
tion {la question ouvAere) .

I will only state three topical indications of that tendency
to rise.

The first is found in the small number of domestic ser-
vants produced by the Anglo-Saxon race. In England, and
in the United States, these inferior situations are generally
filled by persons of a Celtic, German, or Latin origin.
There are the Anglo-Saxon governesses, of course — but that
is a superior and refined domestic occupation — and some
actual servants, whose Anglo-Saxon origin is not doubtful;
but most of these are workmen's daughters, who go into
service for a time only, with the aim of learning house-
keeping in a higher sphere, before starting a home of their
own.

The second indication lies in the fact that so many thou-
sands of men, although sprung from the working classes,
and having themselves exercised a manual trade, reach the
highest positions without appearing out of place, and figure
quite decontly in the characters of gentlemen. This fact
was presented in La Science Sociale, when treating of the
leaders of the Working-Class party who have seats at West-
minster, and who are themselves workmen.* It is known

* Vide La Science Sociale, Oct., 1893, Dec, 1894, and July and
Nov., 1895.

fli

152 How His Home-Life Contributes

that Mr. Cleveland, late President of the United States,
commenced life as a grocer's boy; he had to sweep the
rooms, split wood, light the fires, etc. Lord Glasgow,
Governor of New Zealand, at the age of thirteen, was a
cabin-boy on board ship. The illustrious Benjamin Frank-
lin began as a workman. What surprises us is, not that
these men rise from low places to very high ones, but that
there are so many of them, and especially that their modest
origin does not leave the indelible stains visible in our own
self-made men. I declare that this is an extraordinary
phenomenon, and that the explanation of it is to be found
in the Anglo-Saxon mode of home life, even that of the
working-man.

My third fact is most characteristic in its own way. You
know that many railway trains in England have no second-
class carriages attached to them, because the public have
fallen into a habit of leaving them untenanted. On the
other hand, the number of first-class passengers, according
to statistics which I have before me, is, in proportion to
the traffic, considerably less than on the Continent. More-
over, even as I am writing this, I hear that one of the
principal British railway companies is considering the ad-
visability of suppressing first-class carriages all over their
system, and that the appointed committee of inquiry has
approved the measure, on account of the small number of
passengers that avail themselves of the first-class accom-
modation. A propos of this, people mention the case of
the Duke of Cumberland, a relative of the Queen, who
always goes third class.

Economy is not the reason of this, for the English and
Americans are generally given to liberal expenditure. On
the other hand, the French, who are not so rich and of an
essentially saving temperament, furnish a proportionately
larger percentage of first-class passengers. We must there-

in;

to the Anglo-Saxon's Success. 153

fore look for another reason. The only one I can see is the
difference in the bearing and manners of the Anglo-Saxon
lower classes, as compared with the same classes on the
Continent. We object to travel in the company of people
whose dress is poor and mannrrs vulgar or offensive;
whereas the greater dignity displaj'ed by men of the lower
class belonging to the Anglo-Saxon race makes this con-
tact unobjectionable. Here is a very striking proof of
what I have advanced: the French companies have been
induced to issue mixed tickets ; second class for the part of
the journey made in France, and third class for the English
part.

We may add that the English, although they travel
mostly third class, do not renounce their habits of comfort ;
for the companies, thoughtful of public wants, have made
the third-class compartments much more comfortable than
our second class — on some lines, in fact, almost as luxurious
as our first. Their carriages are, besides, kept cleaner.

From these facts we may conclude that comfort in the
home does, as a consequence, fit individuals of modest
positions for higher situations, in which their bearing and
manners shall not make them appear out of place. Its
tendency is therefore to suppress an hereditary lower class
— the blot of Communistic societies.

But this statement implies a practical consequence on
which I must say a word.

III.

The social problem is not solved by tendering assistance
to individuals any more than the secret of life consists in
keeping ourselves alive by dint of swallowing drugs.
Neither assistance nor drugs are a natural or a normal
means of sustaining life. It is true wisdom to manage
without such artificial aids.

154 How His Home-Lite Contributes

There is no other solution to the problem than to placo
individuals in a position to sustain themselves and to risi;
by themselves. Social salvation (as I have said elsewhere)
is like eternal salvation — an essratially personal affair;
every one must shift for himself. This maxim of mine
does not agree with the views of i)oliticians and other gen-
try who make a living out of the general incapacity, and
whose interest is that individuals should be maintained in
a perpetual state of inferiority so as to be the more easily
led. But science takes no account of such considerations ;
she ignores them, and follows the straight path traced by
facts.

We have just ascertained that a more satisfactory mode
of home-life is the first condition necessary to develop the
aptitude for progress in Communistic races, when in con-
tact with Particularistic populations.

There is no such contact that we may avail ourselves of
in France ; but it is not difficult to supply this deficiency
by an exact knowledge of facts. What is unconsciously
realized, with the help of mere example, by the elite of
Scotch or Irish workmen in Great Britain, and by the best
class of emigrants from old Europe in America, can be done
by ourselves, consciously, and with the help of scientific
resources.

It is for our middle classes, our bourgeoisie, to begin this
evolution by themselves — and for their own sakes. They
spend at present a good deal of energy and money in living
outside theij homes and increasing their circle of everyday
acquaintances. They feel a deep aversion to living in the
country, because the relations of exterior life are there
more difficult. In their homes, they spend all their cares
on the sumptuous furnishing of the reception-rooms, and
consider as superfluous an}' comfort in the rooms used for
family life. They riake the home as forbidding to their

to the Anglo-Saxon's Success. 155

children as to themselves, by not consecrating to them a
Hpecial room — the nurser}*, where they would feel '* at
home" and go through their first early apprenticeship of in-
dependence. The children are the principal victims of the
French home system.

It would seem that our homes are really organized more
for strangers than for ourselves.

This must be changed. Our course of action must be
reversed. AVe must fall back on private life, make it our
fortress, and an exceedingly comfortable fortress. Private
life is an unrecognized but formidable power; no social re-
covery is possible unless this be realized.

Our bourgeoisie can go through this evolution by them- .
selves, provided they have the will, and each man must
decide for himself. But the working classes cannot do it;
they cannot proceed on scientific principles. They are,
besides, too far off the goal ; and not having the stimulus
offered by the contact just alluded to, they are in need of
help.

Here I would address more particularly those persons
who are given to good works. Most often they assist and
patronize the workman very much at random, and when
they do not end merely in paralyzing the workman's capac-
ity to rise by himself, their efforts as a rule end in very
poor results. Every kind of assistance which does noL en-
able the poor to assist themselves becomes a curse.

Our problem is, therefore, to enable the working classes
to rise by themselves, by encouraging among them a better
mode of home and private life.

I have been watching lately with keen interest an attempt
of this kind undertaken by a friend of mine. There is, in
the immediate neighbourhood of his estate, a factory which
employs about fifty hands. A score of families are lodged
in the vicinity of the works, in dwellings which they hire

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-S)

1.0

I.I

I^|2j8 12.5

£f Si

.».. I£

11.25 i 1.4

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44
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Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

1^6 How His Home-Life Contributes

at rentals of 50 to 60 francs per annum (£2 to £3) — and
certainly they are not worth a penny more : they are abso-
lute hovels. The doors and windows do not properly shut,
which makes dwelling there horrible in winter ; and at all
seasons the dirt in these dog-holes is most repulsive. I do
not mention the furniture, whose scantiness and filthy state
beggar description. The worst is that part of this popula-
tion, as too often happens, is given to drink.

Such is the materia vills on which my friend undertakes
to experiment, and you will acknowledge that our problem
is there in all its intensity. The fact makes the experi-
ment the more interesting.

Owing to his presence in the vicinity, and to the isola-
tion inseparable from country life, a spontaneous contact or
understanding was established between those people and my
friend. It first came about in connection with some drugs
which were asked of him for sick children. His wife was
led to enter these homes, where she was gratefully received.
She came back much concerned at their miserable state, and
above all, with the state of the children, who lacked the
most elementary attention in the matter of cleanliness and
hygiene.

Her first care was to distribute some clothing, on the ex-
press condition that it should be taken good care of, and
that the children should be washed and combed every day.

Kelations with this population became more intimate by
the organization of a daily lunch, to which all the work-
men's children were invited. Decent dress on the part of
each guest was de rlgueur.

I have already described the appearance of the dwellings,
the access to which was very bad. After the least rain, the
path became a pool of water ; at all times there was no other
sewer than the path. I can assure you you could have met
there with singular specimens of ragged humanity. Within

to the Anglo-Saxon's Success. 157

a month , the path was re-made, re-paved, its level raised
and a gutter added on either side. At the entrance of the
dwelling, my friend planted shnibs and flowers. This
diminutive grove stands there as a " legon de choses," and
teaches the people better than a lecture, that the entrance
to a habitation should be kept as attractive as the home it-
self. The people would seem to have taken it to heart, for
several among them volunteered forthwith to keep the flower
beds in order and well watered. This was not much, but
it was sufficient to rouse and flatter their self-respect — a
great point.

The question now is to deal with the dens of these poor
people and transform them into respectable homes calculated
to develop a feeling of dignity, homes in which the inmates
may feel the blessings of comfort, and which they may be
tempted to improve and beautify. I am aware that therein
lies the great difficulty.

Owing to a favourable circumstance, a change of direction
in the works, the workmen's dwellings are to be put — as
the phrase goes — " in a thorough state of repair. " That
will be a useful thing towards instilling into these good
people the wish to improve their mode of home-life. My
friend follows this evolution with interest; he will help
according to his means, and he will note carefully the re-
sults obtained. Phenomena are best observed on a limited
scale.

Some may believe that the chief difficulty will be found
in the scanty means of a working population. This opinion
is not justified by facts. Among these families, there is
one whose miserable condition is more appalling than the
average : their home is of the shabbiest, their children —
six of them — are the most ragged, they are always short of
money, and ever drawing advances from their employer;
in short, they are overwhelmed with debts, and part of

'•■ i'-'m

•■ (A

158 How His Home-Life Contributes

their salaries is stopped by creditors — a practice which is
not lawful in England. The wife, after a day^s work at
the house of my friend, begged to be paid at once the two
francs due to her, as she had not a penny at home. To
advise people so situated to go to any expense towards im-
proving their domestic surroundings, would look like a joke.
Frius est vivere — and indeed they find it hard enough to do
that.

Now, from the director's pay-book, this is what this
family receives every month from the works in the way of
salaries :

Father

• • •

... 90 francs.

Mother

• • •

... 60 „

Eldest son (19)

• • •

... 70 ,.

Eldest daughter (18)

...

. . . oO 1 ,

Total per

month

... 250 ,,

So this family of eight — four of whom work — live mis-
erably in the country, with a yearly return of 3000 francs
(£120)! Yet they only pay 60 francs (£2) rent, which
includes the use of the garden, where they might raise
vegetables. This pitiable state is the more extraordinary
inasmuch as this family have never been out cf work : they
have been connected with the factory for the last fifteen
years ; and if, through the successive births of the children,
their charges have been gradually increasing, so have their
salaries.

We cannot explain such a state of things unless we agree
to a fact which I should like very much to demonstrate
some day — i.e. that the social question is not merely a
question of salaries, as is often said, but also a question of
conduct. If it were but a question of salaries, it would be
beautifully solved by this family — which is pretty far from
being the case.

to the Anglo-Saxon's Success. 159

It is misconduct, and prinaipally their inveterate habits
of intemperance, which condemn those people to poverty.
And the case is more frequent than is supposed. There
are as many holes in workmen's budgets as in the budgets
of the middle class.

Our bourgeois live meanly, either to satisfy their taste
for society and dress, or to be able to save for their chil-
dren. Our workmen live miserably, in order to satisfy
many useless, illusory, or sinful desires.

It is not so much that they lack money as the want of
knowledge how to use it.

The most judicious use of money — all this tends to prove
it — is to form for one's self first of all as pleasant and com-
fortable a home as is consistent with our means. Money
thus spent is money safely invested.

Such a use of money does not only obviate other and
much heavier expense, but develops man's dignity in the
highest degree, a feeling of independence, the habit of ex-
ertion, and a progressive tendency. '

When a man possesses these fundamental qualities, he
has resolved the social question on his own account, and
be'iomes his own master and independent of others.

BOOK III.

THE FRENCHMAN AND THE ANGLO-SAXON IN

PUBLIC LIFE.

THE contrast we have just drawn between the French
and Anglo-Saxon types, in the School and in private
life, is also to be found in public life. The following es-
says point out — and explain — this further contrast.

We shall make clear the principal causes of the actual
superiority of the Anglo-Saxon race in triumphing over the
difficulties of the struggle for existence. At the same time,
we shall show what we ought to do to hold oui* own against
the threatening expansion of that race.

161

l62

The Political Personnel in

CHAPTER I.

THE POLITICAL PERSONNEL IN FRANCE AND IN ENGLAND.

VIEWED from outside, all legislative assemblies are more
or less alike. The spectator who from a gallery be-
holds the German Reichstag, the English House of Com-
mons, the Italian Assembly, or the French Chamber of
Deputies, has a pretty imiform impression.

If he were to judge from tha': outside impression he
might conclude that the respective Governments of these
countries are about the same ; that all enjoy about the same
parliamentary institi ^\ that the principal difference lies
in the varied proport as of the divers parties.

Our spectator has seen " those things that can be seen, "
as Bastiat would say. But there are also the things that
are not visible to the naked eye — and these things it is es-
sentially important to know.

What is not noticed, not being apparent to the eye, is the
different social categories from which national representa-
tives are chosen, and the proportion of the different profes-
sions represented in Parliament.

Now, this is an all-important element of information.
It is indeed obvious that every man owes to his profession
some special ideas and abilities, and a particular manner
of looking at things. The farmer, the manufacturer, fche
physician, the soldier, the official, have been through dif-
ferent trainings ; they do not consider things from the same
standpoint; they do not represent the same interests. On

France and in England

163

the other hand, these interests are not all equally important
from a social point of view j at any rate, they do not mani-
fest themselves in the same way; they may even lie in
totally opposite directions.

As a result, the elements of a country's national repre-
sentation may be quite different from those of any other
country, and as a rule they depend on its social state, on
the prestige or influence of such or such professions in that
country.

Another result will be found in the way of thinking and
in the acts of a nation' s representatives, which acts are sure
to be influenced by the different professions which may be
in a majority within the House.

We shall realize this by analyzing the different elements
which compose our own Chamber of Daputies.

It was not until I had been through a long and laborious
task that I was enabled to ascertain this composition, which
nobody as yet had been at pains to sort and group with
some method. I had to study one after the other the bio-
graphies of our deputies, and to note their essential traits,
so as to Anally establish a classification by professions.

Here it is : — *

Professions.

Left.

Right.

Total.

Grand
Totel.

Recapitulate, n.

Country land-owners

Agriculturists

Manufacturers

Merchants

Bankers

8
13

22)
50 \
41

72
41
22

Agriculture, 72
Industry, 41
Commerce, 22

* I had to renounce classifying 43 deputies, who seem to be with-
out any definite professions. Among these are six workmen who
ought to appear under the head Journalists. Of some deputies I
could not succeed in getting any information ; but this will not
modify the general classification. The Chamber elected since I first

164

The Political Personnel in

' ill

'J ■ ■ ■

1 ^'1

* H

1 H

'^ HI

rA' IHjl

"if

. Jit

ProfessiouB.

Left.

Right.

Total

Grand
Total.

RecapitulatioD.

Teachers attached to

the University ...

12.

Physicians

50)
8f

Pharmaceutical

chemists ...

Civil engineers

'^\

Liberal profes-
sions, 270

Journalists

Professors of Law . . .

Solicitors

139,

Attorneys

107

Barristers

Clergy

Clergy, 2

Army officers
Navy otflcers

2
8

Army and Navy,6

Magistrates
Officials

12
89

11
88

23)

72 f

Officials, 95

No profession

No profession, 43

Let us reduce these figures to a graphic representation
which may make them more easily realizable, and show
more cleai'ly the proportion in which each profession is rep-
resented. The table that follows is divided from top to
bottom by dotted lines : the numbers inscribed at the ends
of these lines indicate the numbers of members.

When looking at this table one is first struck by its irreg-
ularity, which comes from the considerable disproportion
between the professions.

What strikes one next is the fact that the commoner pro-
fessions — agriculture, industry, commerce — have but a
scanty representation ; whereas the liberal professions and
public officials constitute the groater part of the national
representation.

These two facts will be the more striking when compared
to the similar table which we furnish of the English Parlia-

published this study, presents about the same composition. Repre-
sentatives of the liberal professions are even more numerous ; 286
instead of 270.

France and in England.

.65

ment. The latter table gives very fairly the proportional
representation of the different professions in Great Britain.*
The majority of representatives attached to the agricul-
tural profession f would be even larger in the English table,
if we had taken into acount the House of Louis, which is
almost exclusively composed of agricultural land-owners.
In France, on the contrary, the Senate has about the same
composition as the Chamber of Deputies.

COMPOSITION OF THE CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES.

Now that we can see at one glance the ensemble^ let us
take one by one each profession.

* I drew up this table from "The New House of Commons, " Pall
Mall Oazette OflSce, London. I completed it from personal informa-
tion.

f Read in Taine's "Notes sur I'Angleterre" the remarkable pages
in which he explains why the English find in the landed gentry their
most " natural representatives" and accordingly send them to Parlia-
ment, pp. 216-234.

1 66

The Political Personnel in

i!'

!iP

II.

I placed agriculture, industry, and commerce at the base
of the table — so to say, at the base of the pyramid — because
these three commoner professions represent the essential
work, which procures the daily bread, and upon which all
other work depends. When these three essential profes-
sions suffer, the whole social body suffers; when they de-

COMPOSITION OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.

&t&te Olfftcials

Army

* Nivy

I i

I J

lTiowVe~of"L^rJ5*

PRO
167

i
I

UStRAL PpOFESSIONSi

COMMiERCE

INOUjSTRY
1^1

J J

ACRICUITURE •

*Tft'o u j» •""(TtTor ffj '

lao

■^

3t-^

•

cay, the whole social body decays likewise, as is the case
with the human body if it cease to be nourished.

A society may, if absolutely necessary, live on without bar-
risters, without journalists, without solicitors, without phy-
sicians, without officials; but it cannot live on without
the farmers, who provide the food ; nor without the manu-
facturers, who fashion the objects of essential use; nor
without the traders, who distribute all indispensable goods
in the spots where a demand exists or arises.

Now, what does our table reveal?

It shows us that the three essential professions are very
scantily represented. This is serious ; but it will appear

France and in England.

167

more serious still, if, going further into our analysis, we
examine separately each of the three professions.

Agriculture should be considered as the base ; it is more
essential to the nation than industry and commerce, not
only because it provides men with food, but because it is
the most stable of all professions.

It is as stable as the very soil. It is not, like industry
and commerce, subject to sudden changes. It is stable even
to routine ; indeed, we are in the habit of saying that the
farmer is roiitinier.

At any rate, this stability makes of agriculture a strong
base for a soci3ty; it forms a substratum of populations
firmly attached to the soil and traditions of a country. It
brings forth elements of order and duration.

Now, iiihis substratum is far from being represented in
our Parliament in due proportion to its social importance.
Agriculture only counts 72 representatives, which seems
very small when compared with the 270 representatives of
the liberal professions.

Moreover, this small total must be still further reduced.

Indeed, I had to classify under agriculture the large
land-owners who exercise no other lucrative profession.
But they do not all occupy themselves with agricultural
matters, nor do they all take an interest in agriculture,
otherwise than to pocket their agricultural returns, or to
make a great fuss about the agricultural crisis.

Of these deputies, 22 at least are agriculturists by name
only. They reside in Paris; they sojourn but for a very
short period each year in the country, and would be much
embarrassed if any one were to question them on any farm-
ing subject, such as the best methods, the yield per acre of
any portion of their land, the relative value of natural farm
as compared with chemical manure, fattening processes, etc.

I had, therefore, in order to be precise, to distinguish

■MmJ

; I

i68

The Political Personnel in

these by some peculiar sign ; their proportion is shown in
the table with a dotted lino.

There are really in the Chamber but 50 agriculturists,
and I do not even guarantee that every one of these has a
full right to the title, or could successfully bear a close in-
vestigation.

It is not natural Aat a profession so important socially,
and whose adepts are so numerous, should be so scantily
represented in Parliament.

To explaiii such a result, so different from what is the
rule in other countries, there must have been some power-
ful cause at work for a long time.

This cause is the desertion of agriculture by the large
land-owners, and their giving up of their country for town
residenccb. This general exodus, which was commenced
two centuries ago by the great and noble land-owners, whc
came to be crowned under the Versailles roof, and trans-
formed into courtiers, has since been continued by the
country gentry.

There is no country perhaps where agriculture is so for-
saken and discredited as it is in France. A French father
cannot make up his mind to make a farmer of his son, un-
less he deems him incapable of undertaking any other ca-
reer. To live on one's estates is considered the gloomiest
exile. A Frenchman will j^refer holding some small office
at Barcelonnette to living at home in the country ! In 1871,
the Reptiblican press, wishing to discredit a portion of the
National Assembly, found it sufficient to call their adver-
saries " les Ruraux, "

This estrangement from the country and country life is
so prevalent amongst us, that one of our bishops, who had
been at one time a cure in Paris, said one day to a friend
of mine, a member of his flock : " How is it that you sub-
ject yourself to living in the country and working your es-

France and in England.

169

tate yourself? You could so well, with your fortune, live
in Paris!"

When such ideas are accepted by men of position, no
wonder agriculture is not only insufficiently but badly repre-
sented in Parliament.

The large landlords have only themselves to thank for
the discredit into which they have fallen in the eyes of the
country electors, who in preference to them vote for physi-
cians or lawyers, as we shall see.

I shall never forget a scene at which I was present at the
house of the late M. Le Play. On the morrow of a general
election, a large land-owner of the centre of France, an un-
successful candidate for the Chamber, came to see him.
This gentleman felt his failure the more keenly because his
grandfather, his f ath«ir, and himself had until then uninter-
ruptedly represented the constituency. He therefore vented
his grievance in bitter recriminations, blaming the ingrati-
tude of the electors, the perversion of ideas, the progress of
revolutionary tendencies, etc. Le Play interrupted him:
"My dear count, where did your grandfather reside?"
"On his estate; he very seldom came to Paris." "And
your father?" " My father, after his marriage, was settled
principally in Paris." "And yourself?" "So am I."
"But, then," said ue Play, with his wonted bluntness,
" your complaint against the electors does not appear to me
to be justified. Consider that they remained faithful to
your father and to yourself until this day, although you
had ceased to reside among them, to busy yourself with
their interests, to spend in the country the money you draw
from the country. They got tired of this at last, and made
choice of a man whom at least they see every day, and to
whom they can go whenever they are in need of assistance
or advice. This man has taken your place because that
place has been deserted for the last two generations."

I/O

The Political Personnel in

I do not remember again seeing that unsuccessful candi-
date at Le Play's after this.

His case is that of a great many others. Probably it
will be also one day the case of the large land-owners
whom the Western provinces still send to Parliament. If
they have not been discarded yet, although most of them
have deserted the country for Paris, that is because their
fathers kept up longer than others the tradition of living in
the country.

Industry and commerce, which are after agriculture the
two most essential elements of national prosperity, are even
more insufficiently represented in Parliament.

We find there only 41 manufacturers and 22 merchants.

Why is a class which employs so many men, and holds
in its hand such large interests, so little represented in
the Chamber?

They cannot, like our large land-owners, be accused of
having deserted their profession. Industry and commerce
require, even more than agriculture, the assiduous attention
and presence of the master. . If he goes away, or relaxes
his attention even for a time, he is soon out-distanced by
his competitors, and runs the risk of being ruined.

But this very necessity of constant attendance to business
is incompatible with the system of our Assemblies.

In a centralized country such as ours, where all interests,
even the most insignificant, are administered by a central
power and debated by Parliament, the sessions are prolonged
during the greatest part of the year. Their duration is made
still longer by the character of the sittings, which — from
causes to which I will allude further — are always subject to
interruptions, idle digressions, personal recriminations, and
frivolous or mischievous waste of time. All this makes it
necessary for the Assembly to sit almost permanently.

Would you have manufacturers and merchants thus di-

France and in England.

171

vert their whole time from their more immediate concerns?
They can hardly feel any hesitation in wholly abstaining
from politics.

They are the more inclined to steer clear of politics be-
cause the position of a candidate for parliamentary honours
is one fraught with little pleasantness for serious men ac-
customed to treat important business seriously. Such a
position implies violent and unfair attacks, insults, and
calumnies, on the part of the adverse press. It is indis-
pensable, moreover, that a candidate should attend public
meetings in which calmness and common sense are conspic-
uous by their absence. To be able to hold his own in pres-
ence of such audiences, a man must be accustomed to public
speaking ; he must be skilled in the art of flattery, prodigal
of even the most impossible promises, and capable of the
rankest declamation.

This is a 7'6le for which the management of large indus-
trial or commercial concerns is no preparation. A good
business man has no skill in, and no taste for, such antics.

Those business men who dare confront the ballot-box are
generally men who have already made their pile and safely
invested it, and thus are materially detached from indus-
trial or commercial interests. Or else they are men who,
having been hitherto unsuccessful in business, have not much
to lose in giving it up.

' And that is how the three essential and really national
professions — agriculture, industry, and commerce — are, as
it were, unrepresented, or at least but partially and poorly
represented in the Chamber.

But, then, how are we at all represented?

i '

Ri''

172

The Political Personnel in

III.

If you will look again at the table of the Chamber of
Deputies, you will see immediately above the three com-
moner professions an enormous rectangle, which widens the
table out of all proportions.

The fact is, the liberal professions fill about half the na-
tional representation. They furnish 270 members — that is
to say, twice the number furnished by agriculture, industry,
and commerce together. In this group physicians, journal-
ists, lawyers — and especially barristers — are in the majority.

Let us penetrate this mass and try to analyze its ele-
ments. Of physicians and chemists there are 53 — nearly
as many as agriculturists, and far more than manufacturers
and merchants.

Can it be that the medical profession develops peculiar
capabilities for curing the social body? Hard as we may
try, we can see but little connection between medical and
social therapeutics.

We are not E.ware that social prosperity is in direct pro-
portion to the number of physicians in a community, as it
is in direct proportion to the number and worth of agricul-
turists, manufactarers, and merchants.

Do, then, physicians suffer more directly than the three
commoner professions from the effects of political disorders
%nd social revolutions? If it were so, physicians might be
jupposed to be more ready to avert public dangers.

But the contrary is the fact. Whilst the commoner pro-
fessions are hindered and sometimes quite stopped by politi-
cal crises, the medical profession is in no way affected. It
lives on the physical miseries of human nature, not on social
good order.

This great number of physicians in Parliament is the

France and in England.

>73

more astonishing because the exercise of their art requires
the strictest attendance. A doctor cannot absent himself
without risking the loss of his clientele. Patients do not
wait. i

Consequently medical deputies are most often physicians
without patients. Those who have a numerous clientele are
too much interested in preserving it to compete for the
suffrages of their fellow-citizens ; they do not risk safe and
lucrative positions for an uncertain and always precarious
office. These physicians are not, therefore, the elite of the
profession ; and so do not make up a strong element in the
national representation.

Why, then, are so many doctors sent to Parliament?

To explain this fact, we must first note two other facts.

First, most of these physicians have their seats on the
Left. It is a remarkable thing indeed unat out of 53 physi-
cians and chemists, 50 belong to the Left, and only 3 to the
Eight.

The tendencies natural to the profession are not sufficient
to account for such a disproportion. If the whole medical
fraternity be considered, no such predominance of the
Democratic element can be observed. From necessities in-
herent to their calling, physicians — in order to keep as wide
as possible the circle of their clients — are rather inclined,,
as a rule, to keep away from politics.

You may tell me that this does not apply to physicians
who are deputies, who are not the elite of their profession,
and who generally have few patients. I agree to this.
You may tell me, too, that they are soured by their infe-
riority, that they bear a grudge to society on that score, and
consequently rush to the Opposition. I do not see why
they should not range themselves on the Eight side of the
Opposition — which quite as much as the Left is at war with
the social state. They would even then be able to accuse

174

The Political Personnel in

the Government of being responsible for their professional
failures. Besides, a proof that this is no cogent reason lies
in the fact that the proportion of briefless barristers seems
as large on the Right as on the Left of the Chamber,

What, then, is the explanation?

This is where our second fact comes in.

Most of these doctors are elected by rural constituencies.

You may wonder what this has to do in the matter. You
will see that presently.

We know that large land-owners residing in the country
are relatively few in France, and also few in the Chamber.
The population, seeing nothing of them nowadays, becomes
— very justly — disaffected ; they will have nothing more to
do with them. They feel that spending in towns the in-
comes drawn from the country does not constitute a suffi-
cient title to parliamentary honours.

Now, these large country land-owners are essentially con-
servative: figures show this. Indeed, out of 72 deputies
connected with agriculture, 51 have their seats on the
Right, and only 22 on the Left. Mark well this propor-
tion.

When these land-owners leave the country, they lose
their influence ; they lose it quite naturally to the advan-
tage of their political adversaries of the Left, who are
elected in their stead.

Now, who are these adversaries?

In other words, who are the men who in rural constit-
uencies can substitute themselves to the failing landlords?
What are they but physicians or lawyers?

Men of these professions obviously have wide influence.
They see many people, have hold of family secrets, are abiC
to render services — whether through gratuitous advice, or
as money-lenders. Moreover, in the absence of the land-
lords, they represent the intellectual elite in the country.

France and in England.

'75

It is therefore a logical sequence that they should get the
suffrages.

That this explanation is true — and the only true one — is
shown in the fact that the lawyers and physicians sit side
by side. Out of 17 solicitors, 14 belong to the Left, and
only 3 to the Right ; of the 9 attorneys, all belong to the
Left.

It is, then, quite true that men of these professions have
only entered Parliament through the defection of the land-
lords. In those parts where the landlords have kept their
action and influence, physicians and lawyers go on attend-
ing their patients — or the widows and orphans. Every one
fares the better for it.

I shall not linger over the case of the civil engineers.
There are only 7 in the Chamber — a small number, which
is accounted for by the fact that their profession does not
offer them ready means of captivating public opinion.

On the other hand, journalists are numerous. I count 59
of them, nearly as many as agriculturists, and many more
than are returned by industry and commerce.

Yet I do not think it can be contended that journalists
are almost as essential as the agriculturists, and more es-
sential than manufacturers and traders put together, for
the good of the country.

Moreover, journalists do not seem to be so directly inter-
ested in the right order of things, the peacefulness of the
public mind- in short, in the public order — as agricultur-
ists, manufaoturers, and traders.

The newspaper lives best on incidents. In troublous
times the circulation increases; so those items of news
which are most likely to arouse public uneasiness are
printed in big letters ; circulations go down as soon as times
become calmer. Even then there is the resource — often re-
sorted to — of provoking incidents and magnifying indefinite-

It''.*

The Political Personnel in

ly the most trivial events. The public mind must be kept
awake, and a fillip given to agitation ; the newspaper can-
not live without it. See the increase in the number of
newspapers in times of public trouble. Unless we are
blind, we are bound to acknowledge that what makes the
prosperity of agriculture, industry, and commerce is poison
to the newspaper.

Perhaps it will be urged that pressmen, treating daily of
political questions in their papers, ai'e the better qualified
for parliamentary debate.

If this means that journalists are ready to talk on all
subjects, I agree. But they are ready to treat those sub-
jects as they are treated in a newspaper.

A journalist is necessarily obliged to think, judge, and
write at full speed. Hardly is his thought formed when it
has to be printed ; he never has leisure for ripening it. The
most eminent journalists know this and regret it; the less
eminent dream of no such thing and retain a high opinion
of themselves; they s?*y — without smiling — that they exer-
cise "sacerdotal functions!"

Moreover, in order to be heard, to enforce attention on
the part of the public, the journalist is obliged to raise his
voice : that is a necessity of the trade, a condition of exist-
ence ; exaggeration is as easy to him as eating or sleeping
to ourselves. If he happens to say that such or snch a man
is a s 30undrel, that only means that he does not agree with
that man's opinion. His clamour is of no consequence.
The acoustic conditions of the newspaper Press require that
a man should scream out if he would be heard, just as at
the fair — where the only way to attract the crowd is to
make a deal of din at the entrance of each booth. That is
what we call " Zci ^arac?e. "

Can any one suppose that such qualities are desirable in
politicians? To discuss great national interests, to be fit to

France and in England.

177

govern one's country, a man requires wisdom, reflection,
maturity of judgment, tolerance, common sense, and a
practical knowledge of public business. Some journalists
assuredly possess these qualities, but up to the present they
do not seem to have been the virtues most displayed by the
French Press.

It must be recognized that journalists, as members of our
Chamber of Deputies, have not contributed to promote calm
wisdom in the deliberations.

The only reason why they are in such large numbers at
the Palais Bourbon is because they dispose on their own
behalf of the power of the Press, the great electoral instru-
ment.

But their numbers are quite disproportionate to the party
division of the Chamber. Out of 59 journalists, the Left
has 54, and the Right only 5. Whence this inequality?

It arises from the fact that the Left relies mostly on the
workmen, and the Right on country voters. Now, the
workmen read the newspapers considerably more than
country people. Thus Republican journalists are more di-
rectly connected with the mass of town voters than Conser-
vative journalists with the mass of country voters.

If the country people were to read newspapers, we should
probably have twice as many journalists in the Chamber as
we have now.

Whilst the invasion of doctors, solicitors, and attorneys
is due to the absenteeism of the large land-owners — the
natural patrons of country people — the invasion of journal-
ists is due to the negative action of employers of labour,
who by ceasing to exercise any patronage over their work-
men, have left them an easy prey to the wilet of the
Press.

In both cases, the " patrons^' are responsible for the re-
sults.

5 'I

178

The Political Personnel in

IV.

Among the deputies belonging to the liberal professions,
the majority is composed r*" wyers: 139 members, with
whom I do not count mag ..dtes and men attached to the
administration. Whatever affinity they may have with
lawyers, they deserve to be classified in a special category —
that of officials.

Of the lawyers, let me mention only in passing the pro-
fessors of law, and the solicitors and attorneys of whom 1
spoke before. We immediately go on to the big number-
that of the barristers ; there are 107 of them. And I do not
mean any but those who have actually been called to tlie
bar, and who are supposed to exercise their profession ; for
the number of law graduates in the Chamber is probably
above 300.

There does not exist, nor has there ever existed, any
society producing so many lawyers as French society ac-
tually produces in the nineteenth century. It is an inva-
sion, an inundation.

They are the real masters of the national representation,
the real masters of France. No profession ever took such
a hold of our parliamentary machinery.

And how could it be otherwise?

The bar is one of the professions that can most easily iDe
left and afterwards re-entered. When giving up this pro-
fession for a time, the barrister leaves behind him no capi-
tal in sufferance J his whole stock-in-trade is his office,
which most often is part of his lodging. A seat in the
Chamber is even a means of advertisement, by making evi-
dent any eloquence which he may possess. There is such
a thing as the tribune at the Palais Bourbon, and that is
higher than the bar of any tribunal : thence a man's voice

France and in England. 179

is heard farther. The fuuction of deputy is therefore ad-
vantageous to the barrister J it may bring him briefs, if he
has none — there are so7hc briefless barristers — or at least it
may increase the number of his clients, if he has any.

The necessity of making speeches at the meetings and in
the Chamber, which may be a drawback for so many agri-
culturists and business men, is but another inducement for
the barrister. His business is to make speeches. This cir-
cumstance therefore gives him an invaluable advantage over
his competitors.

But if the Bar makes men fit to en^'^r Parliament, does
it also make them fit for the management of public affairs?

Let us notice first that this profession does not suffer
from any of the calamities that may assail the public weal
as is the case with the commoner professions. On the con-
trary, the Bar draws profits from such circumstances.
Barristers live by lawsuits, and we know that lawsuits are
most frequent when business is bad ; political lawsuits arise
mostly in troublous times, and of c urse family dissensions
are a consequence of disorganization in the families.

Barristers therefore do not find any warning of political
misdirection in the bad state of their own affairs j rather
the contrary.

It might be supposed that, being in the habit of discuss-
ing the law, they are the more fit to make laws.

It is true that they know, professionally, the long series
of our laws and the numerous systems which lawyers' in-
terpretations have created. So far, they bring a useful ele-
ment into Parliament. Unfortunately, they cannot help
having a lawyer's inclination to place the purely theoretical
aspect of the law before the positive interests, which thus
escape their handling.

Living as they do amidst texts of law, they are inclined
to look upon them as a general panacea; they are naturally

i8o

The Political Personnel in

tempted to believe that human societies are led with laws — <
plenty of them, and thus minimize the importance of the
spontaneous force of private life and of all useful callings.
It is this professional tendency which made the lawyers
formerly the most active instruments of royal absolutism
against individual and local freedom. The lawyers, even
in this century, on the llight as on the Lt'ft, were the most
indefatigable adepts of political centralization. They in-
truded everywhere the heavy hand of the State — although
they knew well how to protest when that hand was at tlie
service of their adversaries. They are chiefly responsible
for the development of the French bureaucracy, which ruins
our finances and sterilizes every initiative on the part of
individuals.

Moreover, their share of responsibility for the discredit
in which the parliamentary refjune has fallen is a large one.
Accustomed to improvise speeches, they are naturally in-
clined to prolong brilliant and sterile discussions, rather
than the useful and practical deliberations in which special
knowledge is required. Public opinion may be heard clam-
ouring for a business Chamber, for a business Cabinet.

A business Cabinet I Why, barristers occupy the princi-
ple places in our ministries.

It is indeed the misfortune of our legislative regime that
it requires on the part of our ministers a greater command
of speech than of business, and qualities more brilliant tjian
solid.

To speak, it is necessary to ascend the tribune ; members
do not speak from their places in the Chambre des Deputes
as they do in the House of Commons. It is therefore neces-
sary for each speaker to utter a complete speech with exor-
dium and peroration. This formality causes a waste of
valuable time in useless sentences and ornate declarations.
Moreover it keeps out of the discussion all the deputies who

France and in England.

i8i

are not adepts at public speaking, and wlio often are the most
capable, the most skilled in business. This is made evident
in the committees, where these gentlemen exercise the ascen-
dency and influence which ought to be theirs in the public
sittings. It is a well-known fact that the hardest-working
deputies are those who speak least in the tribune. Our
theatrical arrangements condemn them to obscurity, and
thrust forward the fine speakers.

The barristers, thanks to their special knowledge, might
be of great benefit to the national representation. Unfor-
tunately, their number — quite out of proportion to their
social importance — makes them masters of the Chamber,
and gives it a disastrous direction.

Though the barristers have invaded Parliament, the same
cannot be said of the clergy and the army.

The clergy of different persuasions is represented by only
two members. This very low number is due either to the
difficulty ministers of religion have in confronting electoral
contests, or to the fear of ecclesiastic domination on the part
of the public.

If the army only counts six representatives, that is because
the law closes the Chamber to all officers in active service.
We can therefore form no conclusions from the smallness
of this number.

At the top of our table the State officials are to be found.

After the liberal professions, officials have the most
numerous representation.* We find, indeed, 23 magis-
trates and 72 officials, from the different departments ; that
is 95 officials, a total much superior to the total of agricul-

* It is understood that I am classifying as officials the members
who held office before their election, official functions being by law
incompatible with the position of deputy.

182

The Political Personnel in

turists, or to that of manufacturers and merchants fo-
gether.

Most deputies of this category are downright lawyers,
who by virtue of their profession are most reverent of State
action, and skilled in all practices capable of assuring the
triumph of such action.

Now, from their situation, are officials well-chosen repre-
sentatives for the advantage of the country? Do they de-
serve to fill such a large number of seats in the Chamber?
Are they good judges of the public interest?

But what is the public interest?

Public interest is first that the country should be governed
cheaply.

The interest of officials, on the contrary, is that the gov-
ernment should be as expensive as possible. The more the
total of the Budget is made to swell, the more places are
there at the disposal of the State, and therefore the more
offices open for occupation.

Every year at the time of the Budget discussion, in face
of the increasing deficit, there are a few shy attempts at
economy. But as gradually the different articles are dis-
cussed, as the chapters are reviewed, the feeling in the
Chamber changes. The 95 officials, to whom the budget is
the goose with the golden egg, rise in a unanimous and irre-
sistible movement : they fight for the patrimony on which
they have lived, and on which they are to live again if they
lose their seats as deputies.

And in this movement of resistance they are naturally
supported by their colleagues of the liberal professions,
every one of whom hopes — if his salary as a deputy were to
fail him — to eke out of the Budget some nice little compe-
tency, like the rat of the fable in his Dutch cheese.

And as in Parliament the professions which feed the
Budget are less represented than the professions which live

France and in England,

^^3

on the Budget, the funds are voted in the end — and economy-
deferred to the Greek calends.

But as it is not sufficient to vote expenses in order to get
money, recourse is had, in spite of all electoral promises to
the contrary, to new taxes and fresh loans. Thus the
deficit increases year after year.

Another side of the public interest is that there should
be little complication in the public services, and no indefi-
nite multiplication in the machinery, so that confusion may
be avoided, and a good and rapid working of the services
maintained.

But the officials have an interest in maintaining the com-
plication in the services. The fact is, they do maintain it
successfully against all attempts at reform, and in the face
of every protestation of public opinion.

They have an interest in it because this complication pre-
sents the triple advantage of making them necessary, aug-
menting their grants, and preventing all control. They are
thus made all-powerful and irresponsible at the same time.

It is of public interest, again, that the services of the
State should not invade the departments of private life and
of local affairs, that they should not interfere with the free
working of individual enterprise, that we should not be met
by State interference as by an irresistible wall whenever we
want to move, whenever we wish to manage for ourselves the
most ordinary business or the most sacred duty.

But if such is the public interest, such is not the interest
of the officials.

Their interest is to be allowed to invade everything,
every division of the country : the dej^artement, the arrow
dissementf the commune^ the family itself. As they go on
encroaching, they go on increasing the number of offices ;
and of course an increase of officials follows each increase
of offices.

i ■

184

The Political Personnel in

This state of things is the more alarming because it is
general— that is to say, it is promoted by Right and Left
alike, without any distinction of parties. Out of the 95
officials who have seats in the Chamber, 51 are on the Left,
and 44 on the Right. The love of Budget is the one feeling
in which we are least divided.

It may be contended, in order to justify the extraordinary
number of officials in the Chamber, that precisely because
they hold in their hands the complete direction of the
country's affairs they must have been trained in the prac-
tice of public business, and therefore are excellent represen-
tatives.

The truth is that officialism makes the very worst public
men.

Official life indeed smothers in man initiative, indepen-
dence, and the sense of responsibility, all of which are es-
sential qualities in a statesman.

If their party happens to be in power, they are but the
faithful lieges of the Government; their independence is
cramped by the wish to preserve or be given a post.

If they happen to be in the Opposition, thej are syste-
matic adversaries, demolishers at any price of the established
regime; their very situation makes revolutionai'ies of them.

Indeed, what should we do if we were in their places?
The question for them is — to live or not to live. Official-
ism has not fitted them to carve out for themselves
independent positions ; they therefore see no assurance of
a livelihood except from some comfortable official berth.
How Could they help yielding always to a fixed idea; Car-
thage must fall — that is to say, — Let us destroy the Gov-
ernment of the adverse party.

It is therefore important that the officials of the State
should be upheld by a strong majority, representing really
the great interests of the country.

France and in England.

185

VI.

This majority should be recruited mostly from the pro-
fessions we placed at the basis of our table : agriculture,
industry, and commerce.

We have seen, however, that these professions are little
or badly represented, and this is the great fault with our
governmental system.

There is no equilibrium in our Chambers.

They are unstable because the majorities are made up of
the liberal professions and officials ; 366 against 135 belong-
ing to the commoner professions.

The table of analysis gives an impression somewhat simi-
lar to that produced by those enormous old Celtic rocking-
stones which rest on narrow bases, and which at the least
shock oscillate in all directions. But at least these stones
are stable, with all their oscillations, amidst the passing
generations. It is not so with our national representation :
it oscillates at the bidding of the four winds of public opin-
ion, and falls wheresoever it pushed, now on the Right, now
on the Left, crushing with its fall the three great interests
above which it had been towering and which it now anni-
hilates, although they are chief in the public interest.
_ What a difference from the figure presented by the table
of the English House of Commons.

We have here no rocking-stone, but a structure like the
pyramids of the Pharaohs, with broad and powerful bases.
Here the law of equilibrium is respected. Each social ele-
ment is in its place, and shows the proportions required by
public interest.

Thus maintained within proper limits, the liberal profes-
sions are no longer a public danger. They are what they
ought to be — a social ornament, a valuable element of intel-

'11

li'ii;^,"

M,-'*";.^^

■':■;:.<'?■

■XM

i86

The Political Personnel in

lectual and moral elevation, a useful counterpoise to the
bias which might be engendered by a too exclusive practice
of the common professions.

The harm lies in the fact that we no longer have any
natural representatives.

What, then, is a natural representative? Ke-read atten-
tively this beautiful page of Taine' s :

"We admire the stability of the British Government;
that is because it is the ending and natural blossoming of
an infinity of live fibres holding to the soil, over the whole
surface of the country. Suppose a mutiny, such as the
Gordon Riots, but better conducted and fortified by Social-
ist proclamations ; add to it — to complete the impossibility
—a successful Gunpowder Plot, the sudden and total de-
struction of the two Houses and of the royal family. There
is but the summit of the Government carried away ; the rest
remains untouched. In every borough, in every county,
there are families round which all the others group them-
selves; men of importance, gentlemen or noblemen, who
will take the lead and assume the initiative ; men whom
they trust and follow, since they are pointed out in advance
as leaders by their rank, their wealth, their past services,
or their education and influence. These men are the cap-
tains and generals who will rally around them the scattered
soldiers and at once reconstitute the vvhole army, contrarily
to what could happen iu France, where the bourgeois and
the workman, the nobleman and the peasant dislike and
distrust one another; where the blouse and the coat jostle
each other with rancour and with fear; where the only
leaders are strange, removable, provisional ofl3.cials, to
whom exterior obedience is gi\en, but no personal regard,
and who are suffered but not accepted. So their Govern-
ment is stable, because they have natural representatives. " *
* "Notes sur I'Angleterre, " pp. 217, 218. "The town is not in

France and in England.

187

Happy are the nations which, supported by their natural
representatives, find the just measure in which to represent
the different social elements.

England, as it is with us, the favourite place of residence. Except
large manufacturing cities, all provincial towns (such as York, for
instance) are inhabited by hardly any people but shopkeepers ; the
'elite, the heads of the nation are elsewhere, in the country. London
itself is now only a great business meeting-pl&ce. "— Taine, " Notes
sur TAngleterre, " p. 190.

services,

1 88 Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

CHAPTEE II.

WHY THE ANQLO-SAXONS ARE MORE HOSTILE TO SOCIALISM THAN
THE GERMANS AND THE FRENCH.

LIKE the different floras, social phenomena have their
geographical zones j they do not occur or develop
equally in all countries; likewise they are subject to pecu-
liarities of position and environment.

Socialism has not escaped that law. It is important to
realize this first, if we would understand its nature and
evolution.

Socialism is essentially a product of German origin and
manufacture — its centre of formation is in Germany ; it is
from Germany that it permeates the world.

That Germany is a focus of Socialism is unanimously ac-
knowledged by all writers who have treated the subject,
and by Socialists themselves. "A remarkable thing,"
says the member of the Reichstag, Bamberger, "is that
socialistic ideas have found nowhere a better welcome than
in Germany. Not only do these ideas fascinate the work-
people, but the middle class cannot resist them, and we
often hear persons of that class saying, * Why, indeed, per-
haps everything may go on better ihus; why should there
not be a trial?' Moreover, Socialism has reached the 2ip-
per classes ; it has a seat in the Academies ; it speaks from
the lecture- chair in the Universities. The pass- word now
repeated by workmen's associations has been spoken first
by savants; Conseiimtives have led the attack against

Socialism than Germans and French. 189

Mammonism, and have been the loudest in uttering the
grievance against Capitalism. We do not see anything like
thi.. out of Germany."*

Anotiier German, the Catholic member, Joerg, said in the
Reichstag : " Socialism has established its general quarters
in Germany, and gone through its philosophical and scien-
tific education among us." f

It may be said that all the genera cf Socialists are to be
found in Germany — Revolutionary Socialists, Conservative
Socialists, Evangelical Socialists, Catholic Socialists, and
Professorial Socialists, who lecture in the very Univer-
sities. Such a general and varied blossoming is proof
enough that this plant has found in Germany the most
favourable soil for its growth and efflorescence.

See how it blossoms at <^lection-time : Revolutionary
Socialists make up an important part of the Reichstag, and
their candidates polled at the last elections nearly one and
a half million votes. If we take into account the represen-
tatives of other sects of Socialism, we can realize that the
Socialists form the majority of the German Parliament.

The different sects, of course, do not agree as to their
programme and claims; but all agree on one thing, the
essential point and characteristic trait, the Socialist trade-
mark — namely, tlie necessity of having all social questions
resolved by the action of the Law, or State. All dream of
a society in which the State should regulate and organize
more or less labour, propertj'-, salaries, and should take
upon itself to make happy one and all by playing the r6l&
of a great universal employer. The State is the new Provi-
dence found by Socialism.

This fact will be made more patent by reviewing rapidly
the different sects.

*E. de Laveleye, " The Socialism of To-day" (The Leadenhall
Press, E.C.). f Ibid., Introduction.

H'-u/-:i

<iHi

190 Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

The Revolutionary Socialists are undoubtedly the most
logical among them : they accept the ultimate consequences
of their theories. We may say that all the other sects are
working for them, as it is natural for the human mind, hav-
ing entered a precipitous pass, not to stop until the bottom
is reached. This also explains the increasing ratio of their
progress.

From this sect sprang the great doctor of the science of
contemporary Socialism, the man who furnished the most
complete theory of Socialism, and whose influence is felt
more or less by all other sects, including the Conservative
Socialists, and even the professors. We mean Karl Marx,
whose doctrine is embodied in his celebrated work, " Das
Kapital."

This is a book, " as abstract as a treatise on mathematics,
and considerably more fatiguing in the reading,'' founded
solely on the series of deductions drawn from definitions
and hypotheses. In his first argument the author destroys
contemporary society ; in his second, he rebuilds it on new
bases.

According to Karl Marx, " Labour alone is the real mea-
sure by which the value of all goods can ever be estimated
and compared." Capital is therefore produced by labour
alone; consequently, the labourer is the only producer.
Hence, capital, such as it exists now, is the result of spoli-
ation. Capital ought therefore to be restored to its true
owners, the workers collectively, under State control.
Thus, in a succession of reasonings, the author is led to
consider the State as the universal employer entrusted with
the direction of all labour, and the equitable distribution of
the proceeds of labour.

These theories were formulated into a programme by the
Revolutionary Socialists in 1877, at the Gotha Congress.
Here are the principal parts of this programme : " Labour

SociaIii;m than Germans and French. 191

is the source of all wealth and civilization. As all produc-
tive labour is only made possible by social organization, the
total product of labour is the property of the Community,
that is to say, of all its members, they possessing equal
rights, and each receiving according to his reasonable needs,
all being expected to work.

" In contemporary Society, all the means of production
are the monopoly of the capitalist class ; the resulting de-
pendence on the part of the labouring classes is the source
of poverty and servitude under all their forms.

" Emancipation requires all the means of production to
become the collective property of the State ; the State regu-
lating all labour, disposing of the capital for all works of
general utility, and distributing all the proceeds of labour."

This socialization, or collectivism, would work in the fol-
lowing fashion : each labourer — and each man would become
a labourer in some sense — would be paid for every complete
object as many times the price of an hour's work as there
are hours required for the production of that object. He
would be paid in labour-tickets exchangeable for goods.
The goods would be kept in public or co-operative distribut-
ing stores, where goods could be exchanged for tickets and
vice versa.

On the other hand, as all capitalized property would be-
long to the State, and as each man would have to live by
his trade or function, the power of accumulating would be
consequently much reduced, and inheritable property limited
to personal property.

The three most conspicuous leaders of Socialism are at
present Herr BebeL, Herr Liebknecht, and Herr von Vol-
mar. The first is a retired journeyman turner, the second
belongs to the middle class, the last is a descendan^^ of one
of the oldest families of Bavaria ; who was an officer in the
German army and in the Pontifical troops. This triumvi-

■il

I msf

192 Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

rate is fully representative of German Socialism, whose
roots spread down amongst the popular masses, and whose
branches penetrate through the middle classes, up to the
highest society. Germany is tainted with Socialism from
top to bottom.

It should be acknowledged, however, that the ranks of
Revolutionary Socialism are chiefly filled by the popular
classes. The middle class and nobility adhere mostly to
the more moderate sects, on which a few words ought to
be said.

I mentioned the group of Conservative Socialists. " These
two words," says M. de Laveleye, "seem to clash. Does
not the one vv^li to destroy what the other wishes to pre-
serve? Yet there is a party which assumes this denomina-
tion, and there is no rashness in stating that Prince Bis-
marck is its most illustrious representative. " *

This group does not aim, Tke the preceding group, at
placing collectively in the hands of the State all the means
of production. However, they call themselves Socialists
because they, too, seek the solution of social questions in
stricter regulations and in the State's direct and absolute
intervention. With them, too, the State should have
charge of the direction of labour, the regulation of wages
and the different means of production. This group is
chiefly composed of middle-class men who are afraid of Re-
volutionary Socialism, and hope to conjure its advent by
throwing the whole of society into the arms of the State.
" Let us do ourselves what they want to put us through,
and we shall be saved, " is what their policy comes to. We
know how eagerly the young German Emperor, who deems
no question outside his province, answered this appeal : he
issued a series of manifestoes, which — albeit sterile — were

*E. de Laveleye, "The Socialism of To-day" (The Leadenhall
Press. London, E.G.).

jtile to

Socialism than Germans and French. 193

,, whose
id whose
p to the
sm from

ranks of
1 popular
mostly to
ought to

" These
ih. Does
Bs to pre-
lenomina-
rince Bis-

group, at
Ithe means

Socialists

estions in
id absolute

uld have
of wages
group is
laid of Ee-

,dvent by

the State,
through,

s to. We
ho deems
ppeal: he

Irile — were

Leadenhall

none the less noisy. He is actually the real chief of the
Conservative Socialists.

The group of Evangelical Socialists is thus named because
its leaders are the clergy of the established Church. It was
constituted, like the preceding one, in order to strengthen
among the people the monarchical feeling, and to extend the
action of royalty under cover of Socialism. This group also
seeks to solve the question of augmenting the powers of the
State, by promoting its increased intervention, and urging
it to become the great collective employer.

Here are a few extracts from its programme: "The
Christian Working Men's Social Party has for its founda-
tions the Christian faith and loyalty to Sovereign and
Fatherland. ... It claims from the State the creation of
distinct trades' bodies throughout the Empire, with com-
pulsory action and strict regulations for the admission of
apprentices. Arbitrating committees to be formed, and
their decisions to be considered as law. Compulsory crea-
tion of provident funds for the widows and orphans of
labour and for disabled workmen. Length of the day's
work to be settled by the State according to the nature of
the work. National and local land property to be worked
for the profit of the workers, and to be increased as much
as is possible economically and technically. Progressive
(cumulative) income-tax. Very high sumptuary taxes.
Legacy and succession duty proportionate to amount of
legacy and to degree of relationship." The social ideal of
this group is the proverbial reign of the kindly despot
whose sole authority ensures the general felicity.

The large group of Catholic Socialists was chiefly organ-
ized subsequently to the publication of a book by the Bishop
of Mayence, Monsignor Ketteler, entitled, "The Labour
Question and Christianity," which made a great sensation
in Germany. This book quotes extensively from the works
18

!MI

194 Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

of Lassallo the Socialist, and concludes, like Lassalle, iu
favour of creating co-operative associations of production,
whose end is to place Capital in the hands of the workers,
and thus resolve the question of wages. The programme
of the party was mostly drawn up and introduced into the
party by Canon Moufang, of the Cathedral of Mayence, and
a disciple of Bishop Ketteler. The following are its princi-
pal points.

Wages are inadequate ; the State must intervene. The
State's intervention confirms the regulations issued by the
trades' bodies, and makes them compulsory. The State
must fix the length of the day's work. The State is to fix
the rates of wages, and regulate the relations between ap-
prentices and masters, between workmen and employers.
Moreover, the State is to advance money to the labour as-
sociations. A collectivist tendency is here apparent. " I
am no partisan of the Louis Blanc system of National
Workshops," says Canon Moufang; "but when a labour
association is in need of assistance, I do not see why the
State should not render it." In short, the State is to set
limits to the tyranny of Capital ; but the programme does
not say how. " I do not attack wealth or wealthy people,"
says the Canon; "what I condemn is the way in which
nowadays millionaires an^ * billionaires' are made."

Between this programme and that of the Revolutionary
Socialists, there is but a difference of " more or less ;" and
of course there is the difference implied in the religious
affirmation. They do not indeed go the length of claiming
the transfer of the land to the community, to the State;
but they are not far from this, and must be logically led to
it, for they do claim the nationalizing of Capital, in behalf
of the labour associations. At any rate the State is clearly
required to assume the role of labour employer. This
group, therefore, accept the socialistic doctrine such as we

istilc to

Socialism than Germans and French. 195

isalle, iu
oduction,
workers,
logramme
i into the
^ence, and
its princi-

ene. The
led by the
The State
tte is to fix
etween ap-
employers.

labour as-
)arent. " I
)f National
n a labour
jee why the
,te is to set
•amme does

ly people,"
in which

.de."
svolutionary

less;" and

.e religious
of claiming

the State;
;ically led to

.1, in behalf
tte is clearly

oyer. This
such as we

have seen it defined, and rightly assume the title of Social-
ists. The last group, the Professors, are also adepts of
this doctrine. They are, however, far from agreeing to-
gether, and the whole gamut of opinions is to be met with
amongst the professors of Political Economy, from the shy-
est to the most exalted Socialism, even including lierr Wag-
ner's Socialism, which claims the limitation of private
property and extension of collective property. But all of
them are agreed as to the fundamental point, which is the
solution of the labour question by stricter regulations of
labour and more direct interference on the part of the State.

In recalling these facts, my intention is merely to make
good the statement that Germany is, from top to bottom of
the social scale, a hot-bed of Socialism.

Before I proceed I must state the cause of this phenom-
enon in a few words.

The labour movement burst in the world at the very mo-
ment when Germany was going through the same social
evolution as Spain under Philip II. three centuries ago,
and France under Louis XIV. two centuries ago. This
evolution consists in erecting an absolute central power
over the ruins of provincial and local life. We all know
how the kings of Prussia commenced this evolution, and
how since 1870 the German Emperors have busied them-
selves in improving and completing it.

At the present time, Germany is entirely in the hands of
Prussia, and Prussia in the hands of the State.

In fact, the Prussian State has long been applying the
principles of contemporary Socialism. The great social
barracks, the intricate and encroaching bureaucracy which
form its ideal, are in many points very much like what
Socialists dream of, and which they call the Society of the
future. As is well known, the Prussian State takes hold
of the man from infancy, keeps hold of him at school, then

iiiiiiii

■k

196 Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

in the barracks, so as to fashion him according to its require-
ments. But there is more than this : the Prussian civil code
already confirms part of the Socialist programme.

This is, indeed, what you can read in the Freussische
allgemeine Landrccht^ Title I, Second Part : " (1) The
State is to furnish food, lodging, and dress to the citizens
who fail to obtain the same by themselves, or cannot pro-
cure it from those whom the law charges to do so. (2)
The unemployed shall be given work fitted to their strength
and ability. (3) Men who from laziness or any vicious
disposition fail to secure means of livelihood, shall be com-
pelled to execute useful works under the supervision of the
authority. (6) The State has a right, and is obliged to
create institutions by which the destitution of some and the
prodigality of others may be effectually prevented. Every-
thing whose effect may be to encourage habits of idleness,
especially in the lower classes, or anything that may turn
men from work, is absolutely forbidden in this State. (10)
Every borough, or district, is obliged to keep their pauper
inhabitants. (11) They must inquire into the causes of
destitution, and communicate their reports on the subject to
the superior authorities, so that remedies may be found. "

One may understand now, how populations submitted to
a political system which proclaims so loudly the right of
labour and the tutelary role of the State, whose interference
in the acts of private life is so arbitrary, found themselves
quite naturally prepared and fashioned for Socialism. We
can understand how naturally they were led to seek a solu-
tion to the labour question in the assistance of the individ-
ual by the community, the collective State — in fact, in a
general re-building of society, not in private and local initi-
ative. Upon the whole, the Socialists have done no more
than formulating as social reprisals measures which the
Prussian code had already made law, and which the Ger-

stile to

J require-
civil code

reussische
'(1) The
le citizens
nnot pro-
) so. (2)
r strength
ly vicious
ill be com-
sion of the
obliged to
oae and the
i. Every-
ff idleness,
b may turn
bate. (10)
leir pauper
causes of
subject to
found."
.bmitted to
e right of
Interference
themselves
Jism. We
leek a solu-
ihe individ-
fact, in a
local initi-
,e no more
which the
•h the Ger-

Socialism than Germans and French. 197

man Emperors acknowledged and applied, in the interest
of their absolute power.

The middle class and nobility were quite as well pre-
pared for accepting this solution as the people themselves.
The Prussian system, indeed, by developing a outrance
militarism and officialism, first crushed them, and then in-
stilled in them a disposition to consider the State as the
unique source whence everything in social life emanates.

This disposition does not exist to any such extent in
France among the same classes, although we, too, are pes-
tered with militarism and officialism ; for the State, shaken
by numerous revolutions, has lost much of its power and
prestige. Those who now hold the reins cannot hope to bo
left as unchalleged as in the time of Louis XIV.

This is how Germany, being backward by more than a
century as compared to the West of Europe, happened to
find herself in those natural circumstances most favourable
for making her the focus of Socialism.

This fact will appear more vividly, if we consider that it
is mostly from Germany and by Germans that Socialism is
propagated in the rest of the world.

This phenomenon may be verified by observing what is
taking place in the different countries.

In France we find that, in 1886, Socialism was but im-
perfectly constituted. One of the principal organs of Ger-
man Socialism, the Sozialdemokrat, notes it with regret:
"The progress of Socialism is real but slow." *

From that epoch only did the Socialist group affirm its
independent existence and develop rapidly. This develop-
ment took place precisely under the conduct of the Marxist
collectivists, whose two principal leaders are Messrs. Jules
Guesde and Laf argue. They call themselves Marxists, be-
cause they are endeavouring to introduce into France the
* Winterer's "Le Socialisme International, " p. 149.

i;. *\m.

198 Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

theory expounded by the German Karl Marx in his " Das
Kapital." It is kDOwn, besides, that M. Laf argue, late
deputy of Lille, is the son-in-law of the celebrated German
Socialist.

No wonder the success of the Paris Marxist Congress in
1889 drew a loud cry of triumph from the German Social-
ists! In that Congress M. Jules Guesde proclaimed — to
the applause of his audience — that " his Socialism was no
other than German Socialism. " *■

So French Socialism borrows its doctrine from Germany,
bears a German's name, and, in short, does not hesitate to
proclaim frankly its German origin.

In Belgium, Socialism was at great pains to extricate it-
self from Anarchism and Radicalism, and for a long time was
a prey to internecine divisions. We then find that two of
the German leaders, Herr Bebel and Herr Bernstein, went
expressly to Belgium, in 1887, in order to impress the right
direction on this younger branch. This intervention must
have produced some results, for one historian of Socialism
ascertains that " Belgium Socialism, formerly disorganized
and undisciplined, can now boast a certain organization
copied fi'om that of German Socialism.^' \

Socialism was recently introduced into Holland by ex-
pastor Domela Nieuwenhuis. To show to what point the
movement, here also, is led by the Germans, it will be
suflRcient to state that three years ago Mr. Nieuwenhuis
repaired to Berlin " in order to learn from the Germans how
to make elections." So they do not only lend their doc-
trine, but also their electioneering tactics.

We meet with the same fact in Poland. The delegate

from the Polish Socialists to the Paris Congress of 1890

was a woman, Mme. Jankowska. She stated in her report

that in Poland they were " endeavouring to eoj^y as much as

* Ibid., p. 174. t Ibid., p. 122.

Socialism than Germans and French. 199

possible the German tactics, as well as their modes of pro-
paganda and agitation." Here again it is Germany that
leads the dance.

In Russia, until within the last few years, Nihilism and
Anarchism were the only representatives of the cause of
Social Revolution. There has been a change lately, how-
ever, as people heard at the Paris Congress. The old revo-
lutionist LawrofF, who was one of the two Russian delegates,
declared that the revolutionary movement was assuming
more and more of a socialistic character, and that their
party was rallying " to the German Socialist theories and
tactics. "

Besides this, one of the leaders of Russian Socialism, M.
Plechanow, has just published a book which is simply a
reproduction of the whole Marxist theory. Moreover, the
Alliance of Russian Social- Democrats has founded a news-
paper whose name is precisely the same as that of the
principal German organ, and which bears the same motto,
" Proletarians of all countries, unite !" The Russian Sozial-
demokrat made its appearance in Geneva in 1888, with the
emphatically avowed aim of popularizing German Socialism
in Russia.

Socialism in Roumania is but in its infancy. However,
the agitator Mani tells us in his report to the Paris Con-
gress : " Socialism is advancing, and is extending to the
peasantry. The professors and students of the University
of Jassy contributed principally to this result by translating
the works of Marx, Engels, and Lassalle" — that is to say,
of the three chief exponents of German Socialism.

" In Switzerland, " M. Winterer says, " Socialism sprang
from German Socialism ; the two were always closely con-
nected. Everywhere the Swiss Socialists are to be found
side by side with the Germans: they attend the same
gatherings, read the same literature, have the same doctrine,

20C Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

mutually help and support each other in their undertakings
and struggles." After this, we cannot wonder at the B§,le
Socialists celebrating, on September 4th, the anniversary
of the death of Lassalle, the German Socialist; nor *-hat
they convoked for the next day a popular meeting with the
object of hearing another German Socialist, Herr Lieb-
knecht, sent to Switzerland to preach the gospel of Marxism.

Although the Swiss Socialists have their own organs, the
direction is controlled by the German Sozialdemokrat.
This sheet ic, the very soul of every Socialist circle in Zu-
rich, Winterthur, Aarau, Bale, Frauenfeld, Saint Gall,
SchafEhausen, Coire, Zug, Neuchatel, Lausanne, Geneva,
etc. Therefore Switzerland is also a prey to German
Socialism.

In Italy, inspiration comes from the same source. It
will be sufficient to recall the message sent to the Germans
in the name of the Italian Socialists by the Circolo radicale
of Eome, on the occasion of their success at the last elec-
tion : " The Circolo . . . greets in the persons of German
Socialists the pioneers in the new revolution for social jus-
tice. The Italian Democrats will ever remember with pride
that Mazzini, in spite of his antipathy for the theories since
expounded by Marx, predicted years ago that Young Ger-
many and Young Italy were destined to solve the social
question."

All these tokens are certain evidence of the fact that
Germany is not only the focus of Socialism, but that the
Socialist propaganda in other countries is directed from
Germany.

This throws light upon another fact, namely, that Social-
ism does not find in all countries an equally well-prepared
soil. Although the countries we have just instanced seem
well disposed for receiving the seed, there are countries
where the seed does not seem to germinate easily.

Socialism than Germans and French. 201

Such are Norway, Great Britain, the United States, and
other countries inhabited by the Anglo-Saxon race.

Let us first make sure of the fact.

That Socialism does not spread in Norway was sorrow-
fully acknowledged in a correspondence published in the
Sozialdemokrat. This state of things was bitterly bewailed,
and assigned to the profoundly religious temperament of the
population. This explanation is hardly satisfactory, con-
sidering the adhesion to Socialistic doctrines of a large
number of German Catholics and Proteouants, headed by
their clergy.

But the hitiorians of Sociali'jm betray a most curious em-
barrassment when transferring their p.ttention to England :
they have nothing, or almost nothing, to relate, except the
unfruitful efforts of Dr. Aveling, another son-in-law of
Karl Marx (the hand of Germany again!), and those of the
poet William Morris and Mr. H. M. Hyndman — a pair of
faddists whom nobody listens to seriously. "The Year-
Book of Socialism" {Jahrhuch der Soaialwissenschaft) of Dr.
Ludwig Kichter, which reviews the progress of Socialism
in all countries, barely mentions England, and the all-suf-
ficient reason given for this reticence is that " there is noth-
ing to say."

Another author, trying to explain the circumstance,
writes : " The English are essentially Individualists. They
want to be left to manage their own affairs in their own
way. They object by temperament to any enrolment, to
any surrender of their own personal rule of conduct to some
common action. Such is, I believe, one of the reasons which
makes them hostile to Socialism. " *

If we now proceed to the United States, we find that
there again Socialism has been unable to produce any im-

* " Le Mouvement Socialiste en Europe, " by T. de Wyzewa, p.
209.

202 Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

pression on the Anglo-Saxon race. This race resists Social-
ism as the American vines resist the Phylloxera. In Amer-
ica, the adepts of Socialism are nearly all recruited from the
Irish or Germans. M. Winterer, amongst others, says so.
"Thus: This chapter on Socialism in America ought to
bear the title, German Socialism in America ; for it is still
represented there chiefly by German immigrants. Among
its leadero there are some ex-members of the Reichstag.
Karl Marr. had reckoned upon the New World. He had
been instrumental in having the seat of the old Interna-
tional Association transferred to America. His hopes were
doomed to disappointment. " *

One of the leaders of German Socialism reflects on the
American Socialist party as follows : " This party exists as
yet only in name; for nowhere can it yet affirm itself as a
political party. Moreover, it forms as it were a foreign ele-
ment in the United States; indeed, until very lately it was
almost exclusively composed of German immigrants, who
still used their mother-tcngue and spoke English but imper-
fectly. But these immigrants show a comprehension of the
conditions of labour emancipation which is met but rarely
amongst American workmen. ..."

An attempt to convert to Socialism the Anglo-Saxon of
America was made in sending to the States several German
agitators, and amongst these Herr Liebknecht, and one of
Karl Marx's daughters, Mrs. Aveling. German eloquence
was of no avail: the Trades' IJDions declined to go over to
Sociali."im. A few Socialists then bethought themselves of
gaining admission into the order of the Knights of Labour
— which counts over a million members. *' They thought
they might succeed in obtaining a gradual prevalence of
their theories ; but they did not succeed." The Grand Mas-
ter of the association even once expressed the wish to " purge
* "Le Socialisme iL^ernational, " p. 233.

Socialism than Germans and French. 203

the Order of all those violent and radical elements." One
resolution was repelled in the Convention of the Order by
151 votes against 62, on the plea of its revolutionary ten-
dency.

The Socialists were not more fortunate with the Amalga-
mated Workmen's party ; all sections convicted of Socialism
were excluded in a vote of the Convention at Syracuse,
N.Y. Moreover, they have not succeeded in starting one
single Socialist ^r wspaper printed in English in the whole
of the United Sl .^es. The ten daily newspapers which do
exist are printed in German. This is a significant fact.

We can now easily understand why at the last Socialist
Congress in Paris the only delegates from America were the
representatives of German Socialism in America. The
author of the Report, Herr Kirchner, had to make the fol-
lowing declaration: "If the class spirit is at last being
roused among the working men of America, that is owing
chiefly to the German immigrants. The latter are inde-
fatigable in their task of enlightening and organizing the
still blind masses."

Thus in the Anglo-Saxon world, as everywhere else. So-
cialism is propagated only by Germans. But with them
(the Anglo-Saxons) the propaganda is a complete failure.
This is the point in which they differ sharply from those
before enumerated; they form a group, apart from the
others, their peculiar characteristic — from our point of
view — being that they are indifferent to Socialism.

What may be the cause of such an exception?

The cause of it is to be found in the essential fact that
the formation of the Anglo-Saxon race is as deeply Particu-
laristic as that of the German race is deeply Communistic.
Whilst with the latter the public powers — the State — have
assumed an importance which stunted private and local
initiative, with the former, on the contrary, the public

204 Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

powers never were developed to such a point, but were
kept in check by the combined private and local forces.
Germany is the greatest contemporary centre of Authority ;
the Anglo-Saxon world is the greatest centre of Self-Help
and Self -Government. It is, therefore, quite natural that
the former should seek a solution to the social question solely
in State intervention, in never-ending regulations, and in
making the means of production common property ; while
it is quite natural, too, that the latter should seek a solution
in private initiati^/e, and repel the new Communism, under
whatever form it is brought forward.

It is not my business here to recall what causes have de-
veloped in these groups such different social states ; this has
been shown in La Science Socialcj and the reader may refer
there.* It was sufficient to ascertain here that the effects
of this difference in the two social formations are to be felt
even in the question which occupies us at the present mo-
ment.

Three points are now settled : Germany is the focus of
Socialism ; Socialism is propagated by Germans throughout
the world; and, lastly, Socialism does not thrive among
populations with whom private initiative is much developed
and the action of the State restricted.

There remains for us to find out whether German Social-
ism affords a better solution of the labour question than
Anglo-Saxon Particularism, and what the true solution
may be in the future.

II.

Consider first that Socialism is by no means a novelty, as
its alleged inventors seem to think. It is as old as the
hills, and has boen tried before. We could find out exactly

* La Science Sociale, t. I., p. 110; t. II., p. 116; t. III., p. 558;
t. IV., pp. 131, 236.

Socialism than Germans and French. 205

Tvhat it would bo likely to produce now, by examining what
it has produced before.

If we free Socialism firm the high-sounding words used
in connection with it, and resolve it into its essential ele-
ments, we shall find that its tendency is merely to bring us
back to thg social systems of the peoples of antiquity. We
shall examine later whether it is to be the regime of the
future ; but let us ascertain first that it was the regime of
the past.

The Socialists, as we have seen, mean to place in the
hands of the community — the collective State 'Aiey now say
— all wealth and the means of production — in short, the
means of existence. The community is to take the pla< e
of the employers and distribute the products of labour to
each one according to his work or to his needs. Socialist
authorities are not agreed as to the mode of distribution.

But it seems to us that we know this social type perfectly
well. Was it not the dominant type among the ^ nations of
antiquity? With some differences, all the oli societies
presented this common character — that they raited on the
community.

With some, such as the pastoral nomads, the land be-
longed collectively to the inhabitants: tracts were aban-
doned for use to family communities or tribes comprising
all families issued from one common ancestor. Such is the
type of Biblical patriarchs, Arabs, Berbers, etc. When
these nomadic peoples fixed themselves on the soil by agri-
culture, the family communities or tribes naturally took
their places together and continued owning and cultivating
the land in common. That was the case with all the nations
of antiquity. Some even, such as the Hebrews, the Ger-
mans, the Slavs, etc., subjected the soil to periodical re-
division. Others placed the collective ownership cf the
land in the hands of the sovereign, who thus became uni-

,.• I

206 Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

versal employer, entrusted with the care — with which the
Socialists would saddle the State — of equitably assessing
labour, of providing for widows and old men. The Egypt
of the Pharaohs was the highest and most complete expres-
sion of this last type.

It is sufficient to point out these facts, which are well
known. For detailed descriptions, the reader may refer to
different essays published in La Science Socials.*

But the communal system is not special to antiquity
alone; it is still extant through part of the globe. It is
almost exclusively that of the populations of Asia, of
Northern Africa, and even of the whole of Eastern Europe.
You know that in Russia, for instance, the commune (^Mir)
is but a vast community, which owns the land and dis-
tributes it among the family communities by periodical
redlvision, so that each family never has at its disposal
more than a quantity of land proportionate to the number
of its workers. As a consequence, labour is organized in
common, like the possession of the soil.

It may thus be seen that Collectivism is no new solution,
but as old as the world itself, and applied even nowadays
by a great many nations.

Collectivism, somebody may remark, is all the better for
this.

Let us ascertain whether that is the case by a closer ob-
servation of the facts.

T submit to the judgment of my readers two examples.

Of all the nations of antiquity, there was one that rose
higher than the others, and finally subjugated them all —
that is the Roman people. Now, it is remarkable that —

* Vide in La Science Sodale the series of my own articles on " L* Art
Pastoral" and on "La Culture en Coramunaute," tomes I., II., III.,
X. ; on "L'Ancienne Egypte, " by M. de Preville, t. IX., pp. 212,
549; t. X., pp. 160, 338; t. XL, pp. 80, 252; t. XII., p. 69, etc

Socialism than Germans and French. 207

owing to circumstances which social science can explain *
— the Roman people is that whicli succeeded best in shaking
off the trammels ot communal systems. They did not shake
them off altogether — no people in antiquity couUl do that —
but it was amongst the Rowans that the principle of private
property acquired most strength ; it was amongst them tha'.
the man of the old world attained the greatest developmen';
of personality, amongst them that he was most responsible
for his property and labour, and had to rely most on self.
It was amongst them that arose the institution of quirltary
(Roman citizens') property, which is the very counueipart
of common property. Private ownership of land assumed
an importance which in time obtained religious sanction ;
the very boundary posts were deified; there was a god
Terminus, and the Terminal festivals. The post ifermi-
nus)j when once laid, could not be removed. The idea is
embodied in the legend which says that Jupiter once wished
to have a temple raised to himself on the Capitolinus, but
could not succeed in expropriating the god Terminus. Who-
ever threw down the post or attempted to remove it was
guilty of sacrilege. According to the Roman law, the hus-
bandman whose plough-share knocked against a post was —
with his oxen — vowed to the Infernal gods.

The one nation which rose above all others in antiquity
was, therefore, at the same time, the least Communistic of
nations.

That is our first fact. Now for our second.

In modern times the most Communistic societies are in-
contestably the most backward, the least rich, the least
powerful; they are manifestly out-distanced in everyway
by those societies in which private property and individual
action are most developed.

* See an article by M. de Preville ou the Romans in ancieLt Egypt,
in La Science Sociale of January, 1892, t. XIII.

2o8 Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

We really need only open our eyes to be convinced of
this; we only need consider and compare Eastern with
Western societies — the Communistic East, with the more
or less Particularistic West. The former have been en-
wrapped in deep slumber for many centuries ; in the latter,
where the power of work and human worth have been
raised so prodigiously high, is to be met the greatest supe-
riority hitherto seen in the history of humanity. I will add
that we were proud of that superiority without knowing the
exact cause thereof, until social science had its say.

We may even go further in our examples. Of the so-
cieties of the West, which one is it which surpasses the
others by its working power, by the agricultural, industrial,
and commercial activity of its members? Which opposes
to other nations the most redoubtable competition, and in-
vades most rapidly the unoccupied territories in the whole
world? Is there one that can be compared with that An-
glo-Saxon race, which from their " tight little island" are
flooding the whole world, and in America have begotten
that prodigiously vivacious offspring, the United States?

Well, of all the Western nations, the Anglo-Saxon is by
far the most Particularistic, the one farthest from the Com-
munistic formation. It is the Anglo-Saxon element which
has developed to the highest degree individual initiative,
and has restricted within the narrowest limits the action of
the public powers, the intervention of the State.

So the two social orders which dominated the others, the
one in antiquity — the Roman State, the other in modern
times — the Anglo-Saxon State, happen to have been far-
thest from the Communistic formation.

This is no fortuitous coincidence — chance does not come
in — but a direct consequence of the anti-Communistic for-
mation. We can easily account for it.

The whole question may be summed-up in this formula.

his formula.

Socialism than Germans and French. 209

The more a man obeys an inclination to rely on help from
others, from the coniiuunity or the State, the less is his
force of initiative developed, the less is he inclined to exert
himself personally to make a livelihood. On the other
hand, the more he is expected to rely on himself alone and
his personal work, the more is liis force of initiative de-
veloped, the more is he inclined to exert himself, not with
the mere end of making a living, but also of rising higher
and higher.

The retjime of Communism places man in a general situ-
ation which may be likened to that of administrative clerks
or officials — and we know that such situations do not de-
velop the working power, for the good reason that they
deaden any personal interest in the result of the work. If,
therefore, such a reylme be extended to a whole society, its
effects are multiplied, owing to its generality ; if it be prac-
tised by many consecutive generations, the effects are bound
to be more act «jntuated, owing to the continuity of the
regime. The working power decreases by a certain quan-
tity at the first generation, by a somewhat larger quantity
at the second generation, and so on — until we get to the
thorough indolence of the Oi iental, who reduces exertion
to what is strictly necessary for avoiding starvation.

Turn as we will the facts of past and present, we are
bound to come to this conclusion — that always and every-
where the Communistic system has resulted in confining
within narrow limits the scope of human industry, in pro-
moting impotence and maintaining inferiority. The com-
munity may be a convenient pillow for those societies which
are content to slumber ; it never yet helped the rise of any.

The rejoinder may come : " Well, let it be. We prefer
our alleged slumber to the prospect of rising in the world.
Our ideal in life i;^ to rest as much as possible, not to work
as hard as possible. Give us the sweet indolence ensured

I i

21 o Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

by the Communistic formation; we'll have none of the tor-
menting restlessness to which your Particularistic formation
would condemn us."

I quite understand this reasoning: it is human in the
extreme. There is but one flaw in it — it is impracticable,
and for two peremptory reasons.

First, the very natural circumstances from which the
Communistic formation formerly sprang and developed no
longer act with the same energy or generality. The Com-
munistic form * was originally imposed on humanity by
the necessities of pastoral life. It began in the Asiatic
steppes, amidst those enormous tracts of grass land where
huLianity started its evolution. As men dispersed, their
priD^ary " formation" clung to them persistently, but was
more or less modified by their surroundings. The whole
of antiquity, as I have said, was under its influence, be-
cause their origin was not so remcbe, and the populations
kept to regions that were not very distant from the great
central plain of the globe.

Now, the world, especially the "West, is no longer sub-
jected to the influences of pastoral life : it is separated from
these influences by both time and space. The chief agent
of this change was the development of societies of a Partic-
ularistic formation, which took place in the West at the
commencement of the Christian era, owing to special fa-
vourable circumstances which Social Science was the first
to point out, and which do not concern us here, f

The natural causes which developed the Communistic
formation being now no longer at work, it would be neces-

* Vide, in La Science Sodale, articles above quoted on the Com-
munistic formation.

f See La Science Sociale, t. I., p. 110 and following. A more
complete and more up-to-date account is to be published shortly in
that review, being part of my series cf lectures, and based on the
recent researches made by M. de Tourville.

ostile to

Socialism than Germans and French. 2 1 1

of the tor-
; formation

Qan in the
)racticable,

which the
jveloped no

The Com-
umanity by
the Asiatic
land -where
ersed, their
ly, but was

The whole

ifluence, be-

populations

m the great

longer sub-

Darated from

chief agent

of a Partic-

est at the

special fa-

as the first

lommunistic
Id be neces-
on tbe Com-
ing. A more
led shortly in
based on the

sary to reconstitute the type by absolutely artificial proc-
esses — by compulsion, by dint of legal prescriptions; in
short, through the intervention of the State, which would
thus become the great patriarch of the collectivist society
dreamt of by Socialists.

To accomplish such an artificial creation it would be
necessary to work in a direction diametrically opposed to
the nature of things ; it would be necessary to triumph over
the coalitions of all vested interests, since the question would
be nothing less than dispossessing all those who hold any
portion of the land or any of the means of production.
Even if these owners were the most accommodating persons
in the world, we do not see exactly how this transformation
would come about. But Socialists do not puzzle their minds
with such details.

Let us make the hypothesis that they have been success-
ful — although I cannot see how they possibly could be — in
establishing the collectivist system in the countries where
its theories now exercise some influence. These countries
would then have to face the second obstacle which I have
pointed out.

What, then, would happen?

All the consequences developed in a Communistic regime^
either in ancient times or at present in the East, would be
produced anew amidst these collectivist societies, in virtue
of the uncontested principle that the same causes always
produce the same effects. And these effects would be sin-
gularly magnified, since the regime of the German dreamers
leaves far behind it the communism presided over by the
Pharaohs.

These societies would therefore be tainted with the same
organic inferiority, the same impotence which made the na-
tions of antiquity an easy prey to Roman domination. There
are nowadays no Eomans to be apprehended; but the Col-

212 Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

lectivists would have to face an infinitely more redoubtable
foe — that Anglo-Saxon race which is actually conquering
the world, thanks to the greatest development of individual
initiative ever known in history.

Indeed, the time is well-chosen for inducing people to
embrace Socialism!

At a moment when the very force which made the West
superior to the East seems to have reached its climax, some
wise spirits find no better advice for us than to urge us to
adopt the Eastern regime — only made narrower and more
restrictive!

Ay! the result would not be slow in coming. History
guprantees that, and what is happening in our own days
ought to teach us the same lesson.

What, indeed, do we see happening around us? We see
the nations of the West establishing their dominion over
the different nations of the East, founding on their terri-
tories colonies and markets, or merely annexing the land
without ceremony. Really these good Communists seem
made for the express purpose of being conquered. Now,
in this gradual conquest of the globe, the Anglo-Saxon race
comes easily first. If, therefore, we were cheerfully to
embrace the social regime of the East, that would be in-
creasing still further the enormous advance of the Anglo-
Saxon race over us, and adding yet another prey for them
to devour. Any struggle is vain between a race in which
individual initiative is highly developed, and one in whicli
it has been repressed, smothered, annihilated. The ulti-
mate result of such a struggle is sure to be the crushing of
the latter by the former.

Is this what the German Socialists desire? Are they soj
particularly anxious to play the part of Redskins versui\
Yankees?

[ostile to I Socialism than Germans and French. 213

redoubtable
conquering
[ individual

y people to

ie the West
jlimax, some
urge us to
er and more

ig. History
ur own days

us? We see
ominion over
n their terri-
:ing the land
tnunists seem
lered. Now,
;lo-Saxon race
cheerfully to
would be in-
)f the Anglo-
prey for them
race in which
one in whicli
,d. The ulti-
.e crushing of

Are they so |
jdskins verm]

III.

Ts, then, everything at the present time for the best in
tlie best of all possible worlds? No, everything is not for
the best, although certain economists seem to think so.
The great mistake is in thinking that the solution to the
difficulty lies in augmenting the action of the State and
lessening individual activity. The obverse is the correct
course.

In truth the facts proclaim what needs to be done. We
must embrace the social system of those nations which
always have risen above the others in the past, and do so
ill the present — not by the might of arms, but by the for-
midable might of the social constitution.

Now, it happens that this social system is at the same
time the most favourable to the solving of the questions
which at present divide the working world, — the labour
question, to which the Socialists pretend, most unjustifiably,
to have found a solution. '

It is indeed in Particularistic countries that the two fac-
tors of labour, the employer and the workman, may find
the best conditions in which to solve the serious questions
to which the advent of vast industries has given rise.

Is there any need for me to demonstrate that the Partic-
ularistic formation naturally develops in the employers a
bolder genius of initiative, a greater habit of self-reliance
than is the case among Communists? Compare here again
the East with the West. Now, the above-named qualities
are indispensable for the successful direction of labour, in
the new and very complicated conditions created by the in-
creased working of the coal-mines. The prominent type of
the great employer, capable and enterprising, has obviously
reached a higher development among the Angle Saxon race
than in countries of Communistic tendencies or origin. In-

214 Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

' t

deed, this is one of the reasons of the preponderance of that
race.

But how, it may be objected, does this contribute to the
amelioration of the labourer's condition (for that is of course
the capital point) ? We shall see presently.

It is obvious that if the workmen are to be sure of get-
ting work — advantageous work — the first condition is that
the employers be gifted with the capacity of making their
industries prosperous. A regime which develops the ability
of employers is, by the very fact, favourable to improving
the workman's lot: prosperous employers can pay better
wages J they are able to make certain sacrifices towards the
welfare and protection of their employes — an impossibility
with less capable or enterprising employers, who them-
selves only eke out a precarious living.

You will object that although able employers can so be-
have to their personnel, it does not necessarily follow that
they do ; it may happen — and often does — that they do not
avail themselves of their success for improving the condi-
tion of their workmen, but solely for increasing their
profits.

This objection is quite correct ; this is precisely the point
where the remarkable — if unacknowledged — superiority of
the Particularistic over the Communistic form is most strik-
ing, not only from the employers' point of view, but from
the workmen's — yes! the workmen's.

Need I repeat what the Communistic form does with the
■workman? It makes of him a man incapable of any initi-
ative, of any personal action, any strength or continuity of
effort. A mere instrument. Such was the workman of
aritiquity : such is the workman in the East ; such is even,
in a certain measure, the German workman. The latter is
but a passive instrument in the hands of the leaders, who
enrol him with astounding facility — under the various ban*

Socialism than Germans and French. 215

ners of Revolutionary, Conservative, Evangelic, or Catholic
Socialism. The apparent power of the leaders of German
Socialism has no other cause: they have to deal with a
most malleable material, with a flock that is easily led.
This explains the astonishment of these same leaders, when
they went over to England and America to start a propa-
ganda: they were amazed to find that the Anglo-Saxon
workmen would not let themselves be enrolled or led.
This was the surprise of the Communist who finds himself
face to face with the Particularist. So one of these ring-
leaders (Herr Kirchner) calls the Anglo-Saxon workmen
" blind masses. "

Are they so blind?

This is what an historian of Socialism writes: "There
is no country in Europe where the workmen have done more
towards improving their Ttiaterial condition than England.
There have the workmen's funds, assurances, and co-
operative societies been multiplied: their Trades' Unions
systems have made them capitalists. But all this has been
done outside Socialism, and without any pretensions to
changing the present system of society. " *

They have done all that without allowing themselves to
bo taken in hand by leaders, or politicians — and that is
what the leaders cannot forgive them.

To appreciate all that the Anglo-Saxon workmen have
succeeded in doing for themselves in England and in
America, through their own exertion and initiative, without
claiming — or even accepting — the aid of the State, one
should read the history of Trades* Unions. Nothing could
be more instructive, or more conclusive of the enormous
superiority which the Particularistic formation imparts to
the workman.

These Unions participate in the Particularistic character of

* T. de Wyzewa, "Le Mouvement Socialiatc en Europe," p. 211.

• . f ' ','

21 6 Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

the race j they are not like the German associations, tending
to become international, or even only national affairs vith the
ultimate aim of embracing the workmen of the whole world
and undertaking to build society anew. They are, on the
contrary, very Particularistic groups, each comprising only
a category of workmen of one trade, and only united in
view of one distinct and limited end. They do not form an
immense machine placed in the hands of a few leaders, who
work it for their own greater glory j, but a multitude of sepa-
rate associations, hardly connected together. This is surely
not a race enamoured of centralization and authority, but
rather one fond of autonomy and independence.

And facts bear testimony to this. " The Trades' Unions, "
says an historian of these associations, " were for the Eng-
lish workmen a source of moral discipline as well as a means
of progress. They have remained animated with a spirit of
professional independence, of particularisme (the word is
there, printed in plain French !), which has resisted every
attempt at a general federation or joining together of the ac-
tivity and resources of all members. Attempts at absolute
and permanent centralization have all failed in the end. " *
\ The total number of Unionists in England alone amounts
to one and a half million, and their income to £2,000,000
with a reserve fund of a like amount. Such is the formid-
able labour power which private initiative alone has pro-
duced. Let Germany show us as much!

The movement is equally strong in America, as we indi-
cated above in describing the resistance of the American
workmen against Socialism.

But the most remarkable thing is that this formidable
power is not set up against what Socialists angrily call the

* E. Castelot, " Les Unions ouvri^res en Angleterre, " Journal des
£conomi8te8, Dec. , 1891. This article only summarizes Mr. Ro\ . ell 's
" Conflicts of Capital and Labour. "

Socialism than Germans and French. 217

"capital class," but has for its special object the practical
improvement of the workman's lot, whether by opposing
the lowering of wages, or by applying a considerable por-
tion of their resources to an out-of-work fund for the relief
of the compulsory unemployed quite independent of public
assistance.

Indeed, in a recent parliamentary inquiry, lost em-
ployers (^emjiloyersy mark!) acknowledged that, as a class,
Unionists are better-skilled workmen and more respectable
men than non-unionists of the same trades. " In general,"
says the author quoted above, " they are content to aim, by
legitimate means, at what the English call a higher stand-
ard of life, that is to say what Professor Marshall, of Cam-
bridge, defines — a kind of existence which implies increased
energy and self-respect. To reach this result, they asked
nothing of the State, except Freedom; they solicited no
help, no privileges. With the cool tenacity peculiar to the
racCj the Trades' Unions, which are composed of the pick
of the English working classes, remained faithful, for close
upon a whole century, to the proud and manly strategy
which in the end commanded the esteem cf even the most
prejudiced minds."

So the Particularistic formation has been able to bring
forth, whether as employers or as workmen, the men most
capable of solving /or themselves the social question.

Now suppose the case — and it frequently occurs — of a
certain number of employers having nothing in view but
their mistaken considerations of private interest, and un-
dertaking to subject their workmen to an odious system of
over-work and under-pay, considering them as mere tools
that can be used and then thrust aside, employing no means
to avoid the cessation of work, and making no provision
whatever for preventing the destitution of workmen in old
age — suppose this, and tell me whether the workmen of Par-

^1,

21 8 Why Anglo-Saxons are More Hostile to

1,0 ,t„

I! ''J

Fell

ticularistic formation are not a hundred times better armed
for the purpose of getting justice done them than the work-
men of a Communistic formation. They are stronger be-
cause their strength resides in themselves, and they can
apply resistance directly and practically against the object
to be conquered.

To a precise and definite exploiting they oppose precise,
definite and practical claims — not, as the Socialists, decla-
rations of principles, revolutionary speeches, newspaper
articles and chimerical schemes for overturning society —
whilst the workmen go on starving.

It may, therefore, be asserted that in England and in
America the solution of the labour question has reached a
more advanced stage than in other countries; more ad-
vanced for the whole category of labour in a decidedly
Particularistic formation, whose most considerable nucleus
is composed of the members of the Trades' Unions.

As a matter of fact, in these countries the problem really
has not any importance except for unskilled labourers, or
workers whose callings do not demand any special training,
such as the London dock labourers. But it should be borne
in mind that such workmen do not belong to the Particu-
laristic formation, which is characterized by an aptitude
for self-help. They cannot be classified as Particularists,
whether because of their personal failings, or because of
their actual Communistic origin, as in the case of the Irish,
Highland Scotch, German or Italian immigrants, etc.
These are the people that go to swell the number of paupers
in England and in the United States ; they are the chief
element out of which Socialism recruits its adherents — and
cosmopolitan revolution its soldiers.

The above simple facts again confirm the general conclu-
sion to which this study tends, viz. the absolute inferiority
of the Communistic formation.

Socialism than Germans and French. 219

The Future undoubtedly is for the nations which have
been successful in freeing themselves of Communistic ten-
dencies. It would be wise indeed to realize this truth, in-
stead of wasting time in seeking a solution on old played-
out lines the impotence of which had already been recognized
in the time of the Pharaohs, and which nowadays is chiefly
advocated by the most State-ridden nation in the Western
world.

220 Frenchman and Anglo-Saxons Conceive

CHAPTER III.

,'i •'"

THE FRENCHMAN AND THE ANGLO-SAXON CONCEIVE A DIFFERENT

IDEA OF THE FATHERLAND.

IF we really mean to control ideaa by facts, and consis-
tently refuse to be satisfied with mere empty words, it
is important to realize exactly what there is behind such
words as Fatherland and Patriotism — which so many peo-
ple are wont to use at random, some with unquenchable
enthusiasm, others with quite as exaggerated disdain or
anger.

Whilst some endeavour to stimulate patriotism, others
loudly repudiate any renewed form of the old Civis sum
Momanus ; the latter call "la Patrie^' a callous, cruel
mother, and patriotism an obsolete notion, out-of-date in
our social state ; they proclaim all men brothers, say the
World iS their Fatherland — and thus greatly scandalize
their fellow-citizens.

Such are the two doctrines. They are irreconcilable,
but both can be explained. It is necessary that we should
define Patriotism, describe the trend of its evolution in
human societies, discover its causes and consequences, and
determine whether the idea of the Fatherland is now gain-
ing intensity, or losing ground, or only being modified.
Who is right, and who is wrong? The Jingo, or your citizen
of the world? And if perchance both are right and wrong
at the same time, where lies the error in each of them?

These are puzzling and most delicate questions, in deal-
ing with which much calmness and freedom of mind are
required both on the part of the writer and of his readers.

a Different Idea of the Fatheriand. 221

Let U3 clear our minds for the time of all party or even
national spirit, and fancy that we are inhabiting another
planet, whence we may impartially consider what is passing
on Earth.

Our first statement will be that Patriotism attains very
different and unequal developments in various human soci-
eties, and is in different places the result of various causes.

We can at least recognize four distinct varieties, which
may thus be labelled ; Patriotism founded on religious feel-
ing ; Patriotism founded on commercial competition ; State
Patriotism, founded on political ambition; lastly, Patriot-
ism founded on the independence of private life.

Jivis sum

The first variety, Patriofifim founded on the religious feel-
ing^ may be particularly observed among the Arabs, the
Touaregs, the Turks, and similar populations.

I have explained elsewhere * the Social causes which
place under the domination of religious brotherhood these
peoples who have come from the great Deserts. In the
present time, and indeed as far back as we can see in the
past, is to be found a group of men whose obvious role is
always that of th^ sole, unc^ontested, all-powerful ruler.
This group belongs to no particular tribe, but counts its
fanatical adherents in all the tribes, from end to end of the
desert ; its authority is as general as it is full. It is this
group that has been encountered by all conquerors who
tried to penetrate into the Desert ; the same hitherto insu-
perable obstacle stands before the English on the Soudanese
frontier of Egypt, and before the French on the Sahara
frontier of Algeria.

* La> Science Sociale, t. XV., p. 315 anO following, "Lea soci§l6s
issues des Deserts ; le type des oasis et des confins agricoles."

222 Frenchmen and Anglo-Saxons Conceive

These kings of the Desert are the religious brotherhoods ;
the members are the Khouans (Brotherc) ; the leaders are
the Khalifs, Sheikhs, etc., and at times of great religious
fermentation, one of them may assume the name of Mahdi,
or Envoy of God. At such times, woe to those who at-
tempt to penetrate into the Desert.

These Brotherhoods (Zaiouahs) have branches in all
oases.

Thus, in the oasis of Guemar, in the Sahara, which
counts only seven or eight hundred habitations, tLere are
yet as many as twelve mosques and four zaiouahs.

The Khouans, or Brothers, have their pass-words, their
signs of recognition, and are ruled by an official hierarchy
which starts from the grand master, or khalif, and ends
with such subaltern uiients as the messengers, banner-bear-
ers, guards, etc. There are general assemblies, for the
purpose of receiving secret instructions from the khalif, or
for the initiation of fresh members, or again to promote the
rising of the pojjulations against some interior or exterior
foe. These assemblies are patriotic gatherings ; these men
are the Jingoes of the desert.

This variety of patriotism inspired the societies, which
formerly occupied the two large oases of Assyria and Egypt,
at least during that first part of their history which extends
over the time when, recently issued from the Desert, they
still were under the more or less direct domination of the
brotherhoods and priests of Amnion.* Mahomet and his
votaries also partook of this variety of patriotism, and so
did all societies started under the inspiration of Islam,
whether in the Arabian Desert and the Sahara, or at their

* See in La Science Sociale/^L'Egypte ancienne, " by M. A. de
Preville, t. IX., p. 212 and following; and "Les Chaldeens — Ori-
ginalite et importance de leur role prehistorique, " by M. L. Poin-
sard, t. XVI., p. 206 and following.

ceive

jrhoods ;
[lers are
religious
: Mahdi,
who at-

s in all

I, which
there are

rtls, their
tiierarchy
and ends
iner-bear-
, for the
khalif, or
omote the
exterior
;hese men

les, which
id Egypt,
Ih extends
|sert, they
Lon of the
It and his
Im, and so
lof Islam,
Ir at their

M. A. dc
leens— Ori-
[. L. Poiii-

a Different Idea of the Fatherland. 223

two extremities, from Asia Minor to Spain. To these we
may add the Turks, who sought in Islam a governmental
system that could not be found within theif own reyime as
wealthy steppo pastors.

It is sufficient to name these peoples to immediately
evoke the idea and character of this variety of patriotism :
absolute and pitiless towards its adversaries, because sanc-
tioned by an uncompromising religious doctrine. But it is
especially redoubtable because it not only directs the physi-
cal activities of the people, but also sways their minds and
hearts. Not content with conquering the foe, they also
impose their own faith: 'Believe, or die!" This patriot-
ism has been a pretext for infinite shedding of blood, and is
associated in our minds with the rommission of execrable
crimes. Religion is no longer anything Lut religious fury,
when it appeals to fear instead of conscien«je, when violence
is its auxiliary. Such patriotism should be branded as an
abomination, especially by believers, because it violates and
disgraces the highest and noblest things — the religious feel-
ing and God'c own Justice.

Patriots of this description are the worst of Simoniacsj
for do they not, staif or sword in hand, barter holy things
for the profit of their mystic passion, hatred, and ambition?

II.

The second variety, Patriotism founded on commercial com-
petition, was special to the divers populations of the shores
of the Mediterranean, when that sea was a sort of closed
basin. We know that in antiquity, a multitude of inde-
pendent commercial cities were scattered along the coasts
of Phoenicia, Asia Minor, Greece, Macedonia, Spain, and
Northern Africa. The competition between them was of
course desperate, as triumph over a rival was often for each

tit

224 Frenchmen and Anglo-Saxons Conceive

a question of life or death. Ancient history is almost
wholly composed of such commercial rivalries.

These cities therefore found it a necessity to be organized
in view of defensive and offensive warfare, as each formed
a little world in itself, and could only rely on itself. Their
constant care was therefore to train their young men in
all bodily exercises. Strength, dexterity, suppleness, skill
with the bow became tlie qualities most valued in a young
man, and the public games which in all these cities assumed
so much importance were but a form of that uneasy patriot-
ism.

Patriotism was then local — of the city. Clvitas, Urbs,
these two words are all-important in antiquity, and fill the
pages of ancient authors. All the beautiful deeds which
they relate, and with which we still piously (and foolishly)
cram the memories of our schoolboys, are manifestations of
this kind of patriotism.

A city was as proud of its athletes as of its philosophers,
because both kinds were a necessary and natural product of
the social state. * " Crotona, " says Strabo, " appears to have
applied her energy to forming mostly athletes and soldiers.
It happened once, for instance, that in the same Olympiad
the seven conquerors of the stadlon were all from Crotona,
so that they could boast that the last of the Ciotonians was
yet the first of the Greeks." The winners in these games
were held in such esteem that the most magnificent honours
were conferred upon them, and the most renowned sculp-
tors disputed among themselves the glory of making their
statues. There could be seen at Olympia the statue of the
Crotonian Astylos, who had won the highest honour in
three consecutive Olympiads. Philip, son of Buttacos,

* See on this subject, in La Science Sociale, "A travers 1' Italic
meridionale, " by M. de Moustiers, t. V., p. 245 and following ; and
"Les AncStres de Socrate, " by M d'Azambuja, t. XIX.

iceive

} almost

)rganized
li formed
E. Their
y men in
less, skill
1 a young
s assumed
sy patriot-

ttaSf Urhs,
md fill the
3ed8 which
L foolishly)
^stations of

^ilosophers,
product of
ars to have
[id soldiers.
Olympiad
nn Crotona,
onians was
lese games
ent honours
vned sculp-
laking their
tatue of the
honour in
f Buttacos,

ravers I'ltalie
.Uowing ; a^'i

a Different Idea of the Fatherland. 225

conqueror in the Olympic games, and the handsomest Greek
of his time, married the daughter of Telys, tyrant of
Sybaris, and was after his death counted amongst the
heroes. Phayllos had a statue in Delphi, after winning
three prizes in the Pythian games : the inscription on the
statue mentioned that he could jump 55 feet and throw the
disc 95 paces. He was one of tlie heroes of the battle of
Salamis. But the most celebrated athlete was Milo of Cro-
tona. He won six victories in the Olympic, seven in the
Pythian, ten in the Isthmian, and nine in the Nemean
games. His reputation had reached the extreme East, and
flourished at the court of the Persian king. Olympia had
a bronze statue of him by Dameos, his compatriot. He
took a brilliant part in the struggle of his own city against
Sybaris.

To surpass the Olympic games was the ambition of all
these cities. Thus we hear of Sybaris and Crotona insti-
tuting solemn games and offering splendid prizes in money ;
in the hope of attracting the Greeks of Italy, Sicily, and even
of the cities of Asia Minor. This was the distant origin of
the shameful fights of gladiators which were in after times
to dishonour the Roman decadence.

Such were the forms of patriotism which the necessity of
resisting commercial competition devp.loped in the cities of
the Mediterranean. It was a patriotism resting on the love
of lucre, stained with cupidity, and essentially narrow.
These armed contests and ceaseless struggles, which history
describes in too bright colours, after all had for their end
the ruin by brutal force of rivals that could not be beaten
by commercial skill.

The pure love of the Fatherland, and a wish to sacrifice

themselves for its sake, filled the minds of those ancient

merchants less than is generally supposed. Indeed, when

the cities were sufSciently wealthy, they no longer recruited

226 Frenchmen and Anglo-Saxons Conceive

their defenders amongst themselves, but raised armies of
mercenaries. "From 560 b.c." (a year marked by one of
their defeats) " the Crotonians, " says Justinus, " gave up
their endeavours to attain military valour and skill in the
use of arms. They abandoned themselves to the same in-
dulgence in luxury and indolence as the very Sybarites."
After Crotona came the turn of Tarentum, whose " military
virtues were also lost in corruption and effeminacy."

Upon the whole, this much-vaiinted patriotism may be
reduced to a somewhat commonplace drama in two acts.
In the first act, the cities endeavour to destroy each other
in order to terminate their commercial rivalry ; in the
second act, the cities made triumphant by might are con-
quered in their turn by a foe of another social type.

III.

The third variety, State Fatriotism founded on political
ambition^ is more particularly developed in societies given
to large public powers and to central administration, of
which France, Germany, Russia, Italy, and Spain are the
most characteristic representatives in our own times. In
the past, the Roman Empire belonged to that variety.

Here power is not represented by religious brotherhoods
or commercial municipalities, but by military leaders, or
leaders supported by military forces and a host of docile
officials ; these leaders rule vast territories, and wield enor-
mous resources in men and in money.

Such State leaders are admirably adapted for waging
war, since they hold in their hands all the live forces of a
country, where everything is more or less subordinate to
the State. Soldiers and officials have no will but that of
the State which pays their stipends. The army is naturally
more inclined to favour war than peace, and respect the head

lili

►nceive

a Different Idea of the Fatherland. 227

armies of
by one of
" gave up
till in the
5 same in-
iybarites."
" military

jm maybe
i two acts,
each other
L-yj in the
tit are con-
^pe.

on political

lieties given

|istration, of

lain are the

times. In

|ariety.
irotherhoods

leadors, or

1st of docile

■wield enor-

of the State — whether monarchy or republic — in proportion
to his exploits or victories.

These conditions are incentives to warlike government.
War, to such a ruler, is often a means of supplanting a
rival : hence the innumerable series of wars waged under
various pretexts, but the real reasons for which are to be
sought in personal or dynastic ambition. There is a great
temptation in taking possession of a supreme power which
victory suffices to sanction.

When once installed, however, the difficulty is to keep it
standing; that, indeed, is no easy task, amidst the crowd
of opposite interests, roused by an exorbitant Authority —
whose work it is to think, speak, and act for all. His very
omnipotence is bound to weigh on a ruler of this descrip-
tion, until he must succumb — if it were not that war again
presents itself as a convenient diversion, and a means of
distracting the public mind from interior difficulties. And
this is the general cause of another series of wars most
frequent in history.

If the sovereign is victorious, his power is still increased,
and he then wages war, no longer in order to maintain his
authority, but with the aim of exalting it, extending his
domination, and perchance founding one of those huge em-
pires which make the delight of historians and the misery
of the people. Of such is made the whole category of so-
called great monarchs who cumber the avenues of History,
and whose reigns mark its principal stages.

But those enormous powers are so contrary to nature,
they imply such misdeeds in public life and such calamities
in private life, that they never can last long : they generally
fall down with a great crash almost immediately after the
death of the hero, and often before. Then comes another
series of wars on the part of the successor — and so forth,
for generations and generations.

ISKI

228 Frenchmen and Anglo-Saxons Conceive

Most of these wars are undertaken in defiance of the
public feeling ; for the people have need of peace, as they
cannot live unless they work — and war is the ruin of work.
Yet public feeling finds expression with difficulty in societies
of that type, all private activity being repressed by the ad-
ministrative centralization. The mass of the population,
given to useful, obscure, meritorious labour — the producers,
the workers who alone feed the Budget — have been gradually
reduced to impotence, and deprived of any social activity by
the all-pervading public Power; they now obey the Govern-
ment, thev obey the officials, they obey the politicians.
Could any one think of resisting the State under Philip
II., under Louis XIV., under the Convention, under Napo-
leon, under William I. ?

Now, those powers- remarkably organized though they
be for satisfying the ruler's ambition — cannot be sure to
be followed, nor to obtain the enormous sacrifices in men
and money which they demand, unless they invoke the in-
terest of the Fatherland and over-excite the patriotic feel-
ing.

They are passionately fond of peace : at least they say so
louder than any. War is the worst of all scourges, as they
repeatedly proclaim. (Kead the German Emperor's speech
at the Kiel fetes : the word " peace" is there a dozen times.)
Yet their lives are spent in waging war — or in preparing for
it. And this indefinite preparing for war is more ruinous
to the country than war itself, and drains it of men and
money.

The more ruinous this social regime becomes, the more
necessary it is to appeal to the patriotic feeling. It were
difficult to reckon to what degree of patriotism a ruined
people can reach, or to what degree of ruin it can sink,
through the very paroxysm of patriotism. We can form
some idea of it, however, by studying the actual situation

a Different Idea of the Fathtrland. 229

of Italy.* That country ofiFers, from a scientific and social
point of view, a most interesting spectacle: it shows ua
exactly where ends the road we are fol'.owing at the present
time. If you want a proof of it, in an identical case, look
at Spain. Italy and Spain, Spain and Italy ; they are the
double example I wish to show up to the patriots of the two
worlds. If you want more examples, take the republics of
Southern America.

I forget who (but one of a singularly sincere mind) said :
" You would shrink back with horror, if you were to dis-
cover what there is underneath the word Patrie. " We can
entertain no doubt that the greater part of the bloody deeds
which disgrace history, and make of it such immoral read-
ing, A 'ere committed in the name of patriotism.

I am fully aware that at this point of the present chapter
I must have shocked the ideas of a certain number of my
readers : their patriotism — or Jingoism — protests. I wish
to address these specially, and ask them : " Frankly, are
you such great patriots as all that?" I mean patriots in
deeds, as I know perfectly well that the number of pat iots
in words is a large one. But here words do not count. I
am afraid many are under a delusion.

Patriotism is principally expressed by two tangible acts :
the paying of the tax in money, and the payment of the tax
in blood.

You pay punctually the tax in money : the fear of the
collector is .he beginning of wisdom; besides, you cannot
do otherwise. But you protest mightily against the in-
creasing weiglit of public charges; and if any candidate
promises a diminution in the taxes, you will vote for him.

* By a cruel irony of Fate, the portico of one of the pieces in the
fireworks at the last celebration of the anniversary of the Unity of
Italy, opened on to the ruins of a quarter of the " Third Rome"—
ruined before its completion.

230 Frenchmen and Anglo-Saxons Conceive

I affirm that by acting thus you show yourself a bad patriot
in the sense juat ascribed to the word. The system which
you uphold, and which I attack, can only be worked, as you
very well know, with enormous expenditure of money. If
you really were animated with patriotism, if that feeling
were as much in your heart as in your head, instead of
being only a sort of unreasoned attitude on your part, you
would not bargain with the State over the money it needs
for feeding that form of patriotism. Pay without com-
plaining; the more you pay, the more triumphant your
patriotism is, and the more you ought to rejoice.

/ have a right to be dissatisfied, because I consistently
seize every opportunity of protesting tgainst the social sys-
tem founded on such patriotism. You have iiot, and you
cannot protest without contradicting yourself.

The other tax imposed by your patriotism, that of blood
— how do you pay it, Patriots?

It is a mystery for nobody that all Frenchmen, even the
most Jingo, have but one great care — how to escape the
three years' service, how to save their sons from it ; they
have no greater anxiety in life.

If military service is useful to the Fatherland, why try
to escape it? If it is useless, why insist on maintaining
it? Is there not a sort of contradiction in upholding it,
and yet wishing to escape it?

Since the new military law has been passed, the schools
that help yovng men to dispense with two years out of the
three are filled to overflowing with candidates. Several of
these crammers w^re in danger of being obliged to close ;
now they have pupils galore. At the Ecole de Droit (Law
SchooL) the test for entrance has even been mado less cru-
cial, which, of course^ will also lower the standard of stud-
ies, so that it may be possible to deliver more of the di-
plomaf} the possession of which means two years less under

a DifFeient Idea of the Fatherland. 231

the military yoke. The professors remember that they are
fathers, their paternal feeling is less uncompromising than
their Jingoism.

Among the senators and deputies, how many are there
whose sons go through the three years* service? Are there
ten of them? So, we are willing to give our votes to three

years

service, but not our sons.

Upon the whole, this variety of patriotism rests on the
pursuit of political domination by means of war, and a dis-
proportionate extension of the public powers. But it im-
poses such crushing obligations on the populations, that
each man, after singing lustily the expected anthem, has-
tens to avoid its exorbitant charges. These charges then
fall on the shoulders of the smaller fry, the weaker, the
naifs — in a word, on the people, whom they crush and ruin.
And when driven to the last extremity, the people rise and
rid themselves violently of the Louis XlVtbs, of the Con-
centlonnelsj of the Napoleons, only to succeed in falling
within the clutches of other rogues of the same description,
who, in such a social state as ours, are always lying in wait.

IV.

Now for the last variety — PatriotUvi founded on the in-
dependence of private life.

I classify under this head a whole group of societies
among whom patriotism and the idea of the Fatherland are
manifested under a form wholly different from the three
preceding forms.

In this case, men consider that the Fatherland is the home,
and that the abstract interest to be protected is the ab-
solute freedom of the home and its inmates. To him the
political Fatherland has no other aim than to facilitate the
maintenance of private independence. He does not con-

232 Frenchmen and Anglo-Saxons Conceive

il|

aider, like the preceding type, that man is made for the
Fatherland, but the Fatherland for man. He is less anx-
ious to be a citizen of a great country than to be a free
citizen. Indeed, he is a man before being a citizen.

This form of patriotism, so different from the Latin
form, first made its appearance in the West of Europe in
the fifth century of our era. It was imported Into Gaul by
the Franks, and into Great Britain by the Saxons. Franks
and Saxons belonged to the same social formation, which
soci')l scier je iesignates under the name of Particularistic
fori *^ , because, contrarily to the tradition bequeathed
by th ' • -Q Empire, its participants make the individual
Qe ;^ariiculie ) ;"»redominate over the State.

The first effect of that predominance, in France and in
Great Britain, was an indefinite parcelling out of the su-
preme power. There were really, in the Middle Ages, as
many sovereignties as estates ; each private person was a
sovereign on his land : he conducted his own police and ad-
ministered justice. A quantity of little patries* took the
place of the great Roman patria,

I have not to deal liere with the various reasons why
that form of society gradually disappeared in France to be
replaced by the great centralized type of monarchy, and
why, on the other hand, it was preserved in England. The
fact is, we ma^ nowadays observe it chiefly amongst popu-
lations of the Anglo-Saxon race — that is, in Great Britain,
in its many colonies, and in the United States of America.

* Even while disagreeing with the Author as to his notion of Brit-
ish patriotism, any critic must recognize that there is in Great Brit-
ain nothing that corresponds exactly to the Frencli idea of patrie.
There is no word in the English language to translate it with ac-
curacy. The v/ord "fatherland" is inadequate— and indeed is but
seldom used by Britons in connection with their own country.—
Trans.

a Different Idea of the Fatherland. 233

To make more precise this form of patriotism, it may be
sufficient to recall a few well-known and characteristic
facts.

The first is the extraordinary facility ivith ivhich the in-
dividual expatriates himself without any idea of return — not
to some spot in the neighbourhood of the frontier, but f arthci ,
considerably farther, to other climes, often to the antipode '
The Anglo-Saxon colonist is evidently imbued with the no-
tion that he takes his patrie with him, that his own country
is wherever in the world he may live in freedom. The second
fact is the indejjendence of the colonies as toward theinother-
country. So long as they remain united to the mother-
country, the colonies preserve great independence, inso-
much that they administer their n.ffai- a^d enjoy self-gov-
ernment. They do not consider that pat )tism consists in
allowing themselves to be hectored • v . " or exploited by the
mother-country. But even this unio:^ is but an ephemeral
circumstance ; it has not proceedec' much beyond the period
of formation and education: th. .'Jnglish colonies, like
young Englishmen, have a tendency to expatriate them-
selves. Thus England has already seen the United States
separate themselves from her, and separatist tendencies are
daily more and more visible on the part of Australia, New
Zealand, Canada, and the South African Colonies. "The
inhabitants of the English colonies," says a contemporary
traveller, " are proud nowadays to call themselves Austra-
lians, Canadians, Africans. A separate national feeling is
growing fast, j)romoted by John Bull himself; every Eng-
lishman that settles in one of the colonies, after a few years
is no longer an Englishman — he is a Canadian, an Austra-
lian, a South- African, and he swears by his new country.
It is by mere courtesy to the mother-country that these
Anglo-Saxons accept governors, and on the express condi-
tion that the latter shall keep as much out of politics

234 Frenchmen and Anglo-Saxons Conceive

as the Queen lierself and the other members of the Royal
family." *

A third and no less characteristic fact is the complete re-
pudiatlon of militarism. England, " which counts four
times as many subjects as all the other great Powers of
Europe, has yet the smallest permanent army to lean on.
Her regular army is composed of about 100,GJ0 men."!
This is one-sixth of the French, German, or Russian armies ;
one-quarter of the Austrian army, and one-third of that of
Italy — these figures being, of course, onjtedce footing.

It comes perhaps thirtieth or fortieth, if we take into ac-
count the number of subjects.

But what follows shows even better how little these peo-
ple are organized in view of war. " Conscription does not
exist in England, and the Government is not able to raise,
from among the people, the troops it might use in fighting
against the will of the people. Every year the military
forces would be dismissed, in fact, if Parliament did not
vote their maintenance. In principle, the sovereign has
not the right to keep a permanent army without the sanc-
tion of the Commons, whi(!h provide the necessary funds,
and every year proclaim the Mutiny Act, which has been
the base of the military code. " t Note that conscription
exists no longer in the navy ; the sailors are recruited, like
the soldiers, by means of enlistment.

In the United States, the army is still smaller; it com-
prises, on peace footing, only 26,000 men — for their enor-
mous territory and population.

The development of peace societies is another criterion of
these anti-military tendencies. Such associations have not

* Max O'Rell, "John Bull & Co."

f Elisee Reclus, "Nouvelle Geographie Universelle, " t. IV., pp.
879, 881.
j: Ibid. , p. 879.

a Different Idea of the Fatherland. 235

assumed any great extension anywhere out of Great Ikitain
or the United States. According to a document which lies
before me, the different French societies count about 1200
adherents, the one G(!rman society mentioned only counts
70, whilst fivo English societies have over 25,000 adher-
ents, exclusive of tha Peace Society, founded in 181G, which
possesses several thousands. In the United States, one sin-
gle society counts several million members. Societies of this
description are numerous in the States, and constantly in-
creasing.

Lastly, we may name, as another indication, the tendency
to settle hiteniatlonal dijjieultlea^ not hy war hut hy arhli.'a'
tion. Since 1816, seventy-two arbitration treaties have
been signed between different countries in the whole world.
Out of this number twenty-three concerned England, and
thirty- six the United States. All the other countries to-
gether have had recourse to arbitraticni only thirteen times.
These figures prove that the patriotism of the Anglo-Saxon
race is better expressed by arbitration than by the might of
arms.

We may now pass a comparative judgment of these four
varieties of patriotism.

Patriotism founded on the religious feeluui is now confined
to the Great Desert, where the Mussulman brotherhoods keep
it alive with difficulty; at any rate it no longer has any ac-
tion abroad. Among the Western nations, religion tends
more and more to the practice of tolerance; proselytes use
no longer force, but persuasion: religion nowadays only
sways consciences, and no longer requires armed authority
to recruit its adherents. This variety is therefore in gen-
eral decline.

Patriotism founded on commercial competition has also had

236 Frenchmen and Anglo-Saxons Conceive

its (lay. Tho causes which formerly gave rise to it in the
Mediterranean Sea are no longer at work. The ancient
Phoenician, Carthaginian, Grecian — and after them the
Venetian and Genoese — cities no longer exist, or barely
exist: their irremediable ruin and decay show what this
kind of patriotism is worth as a social force. Nowadays,
competition has become "the soul of commerce;" even
whilst Governments do their best to weaken or limit it
with custom-house duties, nations are brought closer to-
gether and upon the whole trade more and more freely from
one end of the world to the other.

This is another form of patriotism with which we need
no longer reckon, and which may be consigned with the
other to the records of Ancient History.

Unfortunately we cannot say the same of the third variety.

State ^Hitrloiism, foinuhd on political ambition, is 7iot dead.
But it is in a worse decline than is generally supposed. It
presents this unmistakable symptom, offered by most things
condemned to an early end — that it can only be kept alive
by artificial processes and more and more violent stimulants.
Moreover it enforces on the populations exorbitant and ever-
increasing charges. It is a probability that between France
and Germany, for instance, the conquered nation will in the
end be the one that succumbs first to the heavy taxation im-
posed by a peace that is more onerous than war. But when
that time comes, the victorious one will not be in a much
better condition than the other.

The real conquerors will be the societies which belong to
our fourth variety.

This variety, possessing ^^a^no^iVw/oitwrf^'c? on the inde-
pendence of private life, presents all the symptoms of things
that grow and have a great future.

1. This patriotism works naturally, without any neces-
sity for exterior and unceasing stimulants. It is the prod-

a Different Idea of the Fatherland. 237

net of a social state which develops in man a spontaneous
need of independence and engenders dislike of all useless
State-imposed constraints. To maintain that independence
and absence of constraints, the individual needs but obey
his most natural instincts. Such a form of patriotism is as
easy as eating and drinking and sleeping.

2. This patrintiam clrrrlops wealth. It does so nega-
tively by economy, by the absence of all the ruinous charges
imposed by militarism; it does so positively, by stimulat-
ing every energy in private life. Societies of this type are
undoubtedly the "wealthiest on earth — and are made so by
their own work.

3. This form of patriotism raises the moral sfafidanl. I
must insist on this point, because our chauvinisme has in-
culcated in us false ideas on this score. " Chauvin" says
and repeats that War is a great source — perhaps the great-
est source — of moral elevation, and thot if there were an
end of all war there would be a lowering of the ethical
standard of humanity. This assumption may be useful for
keeping nations ready to spring at one another's throats,
but it is contrary to the most elementary facts.

The savages of Southern America and Africa are con-
stantly at war for the possession of the hunting territories :
they ought therefore to have attained long ago the highest
degree of moral worth ; as a matter of fact, theirs is the
last degree. If we consult the history of civilized peoples,
we find that periods of invasions, and wars, those periods
when warlike patriotism reaches its climax, are at the same
time those when man seems at the lowest ebb of morality.
1 hen the historian has to deal with an accumulation of
murder, fratricidal strife, and crime of all descriptions
such as can hardly be classified under the head «.i " high
moral standard." Prurient ambition, and the desire of
conquest and domination are enough to account f< the

-JHi»

/ ■'

238 Frenchmen and Anglo-Saxons Conceive

leaders trampling under foot every moral consideration ; ou
the other hand, the excitement and intoxication of the melee
incite the soldiers to those acts of cruelty, violence, and
debauchery which the common sense of the French lan-
guage calls " /«s actes d^une soldatesque effrenee."

It may be objected that the actual military regime does
not imply such acts — at least, not in the same degree. This
is quite true; but in our present state, the loss of moral
feeling, if different, is none the less very real.

Nowadays, fortunately, the state of war is exceptional;
the normal state for the soldier is armed peace. We are
already far removed from the warrior whose life was spent
in the midst of the fray : the p esent soldier spends his life
in barracks, learning how to handle arms which in all like-
lihood he will never use. He is almost like a peaceful bour-
geois who lives on his income in consols.

Now, we do not clearly see what life in barracks can add
to the moral development of the individual — although we
can very clearly see what such a life does to hinder it.

Comparative idleness and a life destitute of all initiative
and respor: sibility, spent in a state of utter promiscuity, are
not highly moral conditions. The re-enlisted man, who repre-
sents the soldier at his highest power, never was considered as
a model of moral excellence. One of the most visible signs of
a man's moral worth is his capacity to triumph over himself,
in making the necessary exertions to surmount the difficulties
of life — in short, in obeying the grim law of Work. Well, it is
a well-known fact that military service does much to destroy
this capacity in young men. The average pensioner is good
for nothing but office work or police work; he finds it hard
to return to his calling, whether that of an agricultural
labourer or of a workman. Pie finds the old work decidedly
too much for him. His passing through barracks has
therefore perceptibly diminished his moral worth.

onceive

a Different Idea of the Fatherland. 239

srationj ou
f the melee
ilence, and
rench Ian-

regime does
gree. This
;s of moral

exceptional ;
56 . We are
'e was spent
jnds his life
1 in all like-
3aceful bour-

Lcks can add
although we
nder it.
all initiative
niscuity, are
^whorepre-
onsidered as
jible signs of
iver himself,
e difficulties
Well, it is
h to destroy
oner is good
finds it hard
agricultural
rk decidedly
arracks has
th.

The officer, on the other hand, is influenced by his sur-
roundings in a somewhat unfortunate way. There are hard-
working officers, and these partly escape the enervating
effects of barracks-life. In this, however, their situation
is in no way different from that of the common herd of
civilians who are also compelled to work if thoy would live.
But there are also the officers who do not work — I mean,
who merely go through the strict round of their military
duties. The latter gradually yield to the temptation of
spending their considerable leisure time in the cafesy in
gambling, walking about, visiting, or in various distrac-
tions. I should like to know how far these different occu-
pations can contribute towards making the officer superior
to the ''peki7i" (as the French soldiers call the civilian)?

If we now examine the nations which have got rid of
those two expressions of State patriotism — functionarism
and militarism — we find that they thereby escape the
causes of degeneracy inherent in these two institutions.
The young people, not looking forward to the easy, ready-
made berths of the administration and of the army, have to
go in for the commoner professions, which require stronger
exertion and more original activity, whilst offering less
security and more responsibility. At any rate, the efforts
they make in creating their own careers and providing for
their families, impart to them an energy and moral worth
which were never produced by an idle and easy life.

4. This fowl of patiiotism cont/ ibiites to the sjjeedier ex-
pansion of the race throughout the world.

Whilst on both sides of the Rhine and of the Alps we are
trying, by all possible means, tc warm up a weakening pa-
triotism ; whilst we are passing reviews of our troops and
celebrating military anniversaries, one adversary, whom
we do not see or whom we despise because he is not, like
us, armed to the teeth, is tranquilly furrowing the seas with

I I, , j

^■P

240 Different Ideas of the Fatherland.

his innumerable ships, and gradually filling the world with
his innumerable colonists.

The obsolete idea lingers with us — that the strength of
a race is mostly derived from the force of its public powers.
If this was the right idea, the Latin races would by this
time be the masters of the world, whereas they are giving
way on all points to the Anglo-Saxon race, whose public
powers are reduced and peace-abiding.

If we understood this well, we should be in the best con-
dition for taking on Germany that revenge of which we
hear so much : we should seek our revenge, not in military
predominance, which weakens the conqueror as much as the
conquered one, but in social predominance — the only real
predominance, because it is foimded on work and the inde-
pendence of private life.

The state of war, or the armed peace which is its corollary,
is not an unavoidable necessity; it is simply a natural con-
comitant of the different types of societies which have pre-
vailed hitherto, all of which were more or less founded on
an exaggerated importance of the public powers. With
those societies which have succeeded in shaking off such
social conditions, w ar is but an occasional occurrence ; each
one still keeps a nominal army, so as to be able to defend
itself in case of attack on the part of any of those backward
societies which are still keeping to the old military system.

If, now, we wished to sum up the foregoing considera-
tions in one brief formula, we might say —

That State patriotism, founded on political ambition, is but
an artificial, siDurious patriotism, which leads peoples to ruiu.

Real patriotism, on the contrary, consists in energetically
maintaining private independence against the development
and encroachments of the State, because such is the only way
of ensuring social power and prosperity for the Fatherland.

nd.

world with

Different Notions of Solidarity. 241

strength of
ilic powers,
uld by this
are giving
hose public

he best con-
f which we
b in military
much as the
he only real
tnd the inde-

its corollary,
, natural con-
ich have pre-
founded on
»wers. With
dng off such
irrence; each
ble to defend
Lose backward
itary system,
ng considera-

nbition, isbut
eoples to ruiu.
energetically
development
s the only way
le Fatherland.

CHAPTER IV.

THE FRENCHMAN'S AND THE ANGLO-SAXON'S RESPECTIVE NOTIONS
OF SOLIDARITY ARE DIFFERENT.

rpHE theory of the Solidarity of mankind is fashionable
-L just now in France, and an ex-Prime Minister, M.
Bourgeois, has recently made a special study of it.*

He makes out that this doctrine is claimed as their own
by very different people: by the Christian Socialists, by
some economists of the German school, by a few philoso-
phers—such as M. Fouill^e and M. Izoulet — and by the
Positivists, who call it " altruism."

" But for all, although under different names, the doc-
trine is substantially the same, and comes to this funda-
mental idea: There is between each individual acd all the
others a necessary tie of solidarity."

If this was the whole thesis, it would be as acceptable as
inoffensive ; in fact, it woidd only be a truism. But we
must not be deceived by appearances. In reality, the par-
tisans of this doctrine mean to solve the whole of the social
problem by Solidarity.

The real question they put is this : Either the individual
is to he subordinate to society ^ or society is to he subordinate to
the indicidual. The lovers of Solidarity pronounce them-
selves in favour of the first part of the alternative. Obvi-
ously, then, the problem is of some importance, and deserves
to be examined.

* " Solidarite, " a pamphlet : Armand Colin, publisher, Paris.

242 The Frenchman's and Anglo-Saxon's

According to M. Bourgeois — and this i" Y^n f mdamental
argument — man is subordinate tc society, ber-ause he is a
debtor. Moreover, he is not only indebted to hi3 contem-
poraries, but " he is born a debtor of the human associa-
tion" — that is to say, of the past generationf; ; "for he
takes his share of an inheritance accumulated by his own
and other men's ancestors."

The author's line of demonstration is immediately ap-
parent, but we can quite as readily see our way to answer
him.

" Men, " says he, " exchange mutual serxices in the course
of their common life," therefore the/ have solidary with
one another.

True, you may answer, but they alto exchange mutual
blows and compete against each other; ti'erefore, they are
not solidary of one another.

"Even at his birth, man enters into the enjoyment of an
enormous capital saved by preceding generations ;" therefore
he is a debtor.

Just so ; but those anterior generations have at the same
time diminished thf* ium total of natural products on which
man subr^sts, ami red ced the proportion of soil at the dis-
posal of each : tiiey have made the struggle for existence
harder. Man is therefore a creditor.

We might continue such a dialogue for long, without ad-
vancing the question by one iota; it is a mere schoolboy
game, after which each interlocutor remains convinced that
he has silenced his adversary.

As a matter of fact, men have interests both solidary and
separate ; they are both debtors and creditors to society.

The difficulty ought to be cleared ; and M. Bourgeois's
pamphlet offers us an opportunity of doing so.

xon s

Notions of Solidarity are Different. 243

ndamental
Lse he is a
113 contem-
wi associa-
;; "for he
by his own

jdiately ap-
y to answer

Q the course
olidary with

mge mutual
are, they are

yment of an
therefore

at the same
icts on which
,il at the dis-
br existence

without ad-
re schoolboy
i^nvinced that

solidary and
to society.
. Bourgeois's

Let us start from the idea which seems dearest to hira,
on which he repeatedly insistS; r.116. u; on which Jie ba >e«
his principal argnment in favour of the predominance of
society over the individual. " Man is born a debt,!' to the
human association : on entering it, he finds readj his shaj 6
of an inheritance accumulated by his own and other mer; ;•'
ancestors ... so that the most modest worker of our tir>e
is as much superior to a savage of the Stone Age as he him-
self is inferior to a man of genius. . . .

" The history of humanity is that of the conquest of the
Earth and of the use of its forces, through exertions and
sacrifices the number and magnitude of which are beyond
any measure of calculation. And this our race has done in
full knowledge and with the delibe7\ate aim of allowing each
member of humanity to find at his advent a state fit for the
development of his activity and faculties, a state better and
more satisfactory to his body, his intellect, and his con-
science."*

That is settled. Man owes society all progress accom-
plished by societj^ ; he owes to his society his actual supe-
riority over " the Stone Age savage."

The question now , the only question, the whoL? ques-
tion, is to know how all that '-ocial progress was 'ic om-
plished. Was it accomplished by society's predo. inance
over the individual, or the reverse?

In other words, was the progress by hich the individi^ai
now profits, the progress for which } a contend man is in-
debted to society (so as to subordinate him to the cominu-
nity), was that progress accomplished by collective exertion
or by individual exertion — by societies where public action
was predominant, or by societies where private action was
predominant?

It is not indeed admissible that you should found your
* " Solidarite, " pp. 117, 118, 128.

ii,'!

244 The Frenchman's and Anglo-Saxon's

theory on the progress accomplished by humanitv. and yet
wilfully ignore the social conditions in which and through
which that progress was realized.

Reduced to the terms we have just set, the question be-
comes clearer. Indeed, any one can realise the following
facts : —

Modern societies have contributed more to the social prog^
ress than ancient societies, and Western societies more than
Eastern societies.

Now, modern and Western societies owe their social su-
periority solely to the increase of individual action and the
diminution of collective action.

As we gradually proceed from the past to the present, or
from the East to the West, the personality of the iiidividual
assumes a more original entity, and private action is more
conspicuous than public action, the private man more con-
spicuous than the State. We pass from servitude to free
labour, from labour in common to individual labour ; from
collective property to personal property; from the patri-
archal family to tht, aeparate couple ; from the tribe, caste,
clan, and closed corporations to civil independence and
political equality ; from autocratic or absolute monarchies
or republics to liberal and parliamentary monarchies and
rooublics.

In short, in the social evolution progress follows exactly
the ratio of the predominance of the private individual over
the group or State. At present, if we consider only the
races of the West, the first place in the evolution is pre-
cisely that taken by the most progressive, the most enter-
prifdng, which are also the most expansive and command
the greatest wealth.

All this is so clear, so well-known, so proven, that I need
not insist on it.

Besides, M. Bourgeois is really of the same opinion as

liiliii

ixon s

Notions of Solidarity are Different. 245

v. and yet
Qd tbrough

[uestion be-
e following

social prog'
;s more than

ir social su-
tion and the

B present, or
ae iiidividual
ition is more
m more con-
dtude to free
labour; from
m the patri-
! tribe, caste,
endence and
3 monarchies
narchies and

lows exactly
dividual over
ider only the
ution is pre-
most enter-
and command

, that I need

QC opinion as

myself, and has well seen the weak point of the social sys-
tem which lurks under his use of the vague but very safe
word — Solidarity. He quite realizes that this system is
bound to end in crushing the individual, and therefore in
smothering that social progress which he invokes, for he
tries to answer in advance the objection which he foresees.

"In the history of societies, as in that of species," says
he, " it is acknowledged that the struggle for individual
development is the jnnniary condition of all proyvesa, that the
free exercise of personal activity and faculties ahmc can
impress the initial motion \ and finally that the more this
primary independence of individuals is increased and forti-
fied physically, psychologically, and morally, the more the
social action is and ought to he increased iii its turn." *

No one could say this better. But immediately after the
author weakens this affirmation so as to fit it to his argument :
these individual forces ought not to be left to themselves!
" The association of disciplined individual acts (disciplined
by might, in regimes of authority ; by consent, in more
liberal regimes) alone couhl make possible and keep going
any communities — families, tribes, cities, castes. Churches,
or nations. " f

The best organization is, therefore, that " where there is
an equilibrium between the units and the whole, so that the
whole may exist for the units and the units for the whole ;
where the two simultaneous effects of progress, — the in-
crease of individual life and that of social life — which had
boen believed to be contrary to one another, shall be really
inseparable." X

Theoretically, this mixture of private activity and pub-
lic discipline is fascinating enough. The author obviously

* " Solidurite, " p. 62.
t Ibid, p. 64.
i Ibid., p. 63.

iTx^m:.

,«■-. •j»ia

246 The Frenchman's and Anglo-Saxon's

wishes to satisfy everybody. But in what proportions is
the mixture to be served? And who is to dispense it?
Who indeed is capable of dispensing it — for this social
chemistry is infinitely more complicated than ordinary
chemistry. Will M. Bourgeois tell us that?

He makes the question the object of a chapter entitled,
"Practical doctrine of social solidarity." The following is
the most characteristic passage : " The formula which is to
determine the social tie should take into account the nature
and aim of human society, the conditions under which each
member enters it in his turn, the common advantages and
common charges he is to find ; in short, it should recognize
what each brings to the community and what each receives
from it, and establish as it were each member's credit and
debit account, so as to regulate from it each man's rights
and duties.

" Positive legislation can then be but the practical expres-
sion of this formula of equitable division of the profits and
charges of the association. Legislation is not to create
rights between men, but only to acknowledge those created
by their reciprocal situations; in other words, the Law's
task shall be limited to recognizing these circumstantial
rights and sanctioning them.

" By analyzing the necessary connections between the ob-
jects of Association, it (the Law) shall fix at the same time
♦■he necessary connections between the consciences of the
members.

*' The Law, therefore, shall not be made by Society and
imposed upon Men — it shall be the Law inherent in the
society of men." *

M. Bourgeois apparently hopes that men shall become —
in the distant future, no doubt — wise and enlightened
enough to form a sort of social contract, a voluntary asso-

*"Solidarite,"p. 94.

Notions of Solidarity arc Different. 247

ciation in which they will co-ordinate "hostile forces into
results useful to each and all, and will prepare the advent
of a regime of i)eace and contracts on the ruins of the re-
gime of war and authority." *

This is assuredly the vision of an accomplished philoso-
pher: and such is the aim to which humanity ought to tend
and might tend. But we find it the more difficult to follow
the author into that aistant future because we cannot see
how his conclusion is constant to his premises. He pointed
to two forces in humanity — individual action, and collective
action ; he acknowledged that the progress had been actually
accomplished by the former, and yet concludes to the neces-
sity of developing the latter ; and it is from this latter force
that he expects " the advent of a regime of peace and con-
tracts. "

I do not believe I am far out in saying that this contra-
diction is voluntary. M. Bourgeois is above all a politician ;
his chief care is to gather many clients and partisans, to keep
them and increase their number (is much as possible.

He feared he might frighten them away by saying: — My
good friends, life is not all beer and skittles. Far from it.
'Tis a daily struggle against all kinds of never-ending diffi-
culties. In order to triumph over these difficulties, you
should rely on yourselves much more than on any one else.
All that parents, friends, neighbours, or the State can do
to help you is very little, compared to what you can do
yourselves. ... If you only set about it, etc., etc.

It may be granted that although such a speech would be
very manly and capable of affecting favourably a few choice
spirits, yet it is net of a nature to stir the crowd, especially
those people who attach themselves to the fortunes of a

* It strikes us M. Bourgeois has borrowed this idea from Proud-
hon. Vide " Idee genurale de la Bevolutiou au XIX(ime Siiicle, " by
Proudhon.

, f

248 The Frenchman's and Anglo-Saxon*s

politician and who count on his success to promote their
own. Such people expect a good deal — if not everything
— from the State, from the great Collectivity.

There is, therefore, a better chance of drawing them by
promising them social rising through solidarity. Solidarity
is a convenient if hazy formula — one that will be acceptable
to all and stand in nobody's way, one, moreover, which
changes nothing in the present humdrum. This sort of
thing pleases the mass of voters, who thus are not asked to
exert themselves, and who always find it more convenient
to count on the help of others; it also pleases the politician,
the sociologist, the philosopher and the philanthropist, who
may then assume at little expense the attitude of men who
can sympathize with human miseries.

But if that is sufficiennt for making a clientelG for the
statesman, it is not sufficient for raising the condition of
humanity : it tends to make it worse, for there is in soli-
darity a larger proportion of illusion than of reality. I
will now try to show this briefly.

II.

First, it is not sufficient to preach or proclaim that men
have solidary with one another, and that men ought to help
each other so as to promote the reign of solidarity. The
tendency to lean on the group and to subordinate the indi-
vidual to society, develops itself in human societies, ac-
cording to very precise laws, which observation reveals,
and with which our readers are acquainted l)y this
time. Where these law-s exist, there does the tendency
produce itself, without any need of preaching : it springs
forth with the regularity and spontaneity of a natural
phenomenon.

Unfortunately — and this is where the illusion of solidarity

icon s

Notions of Solidarity are Different. 249

loto their
verything

I them by
Solidurity
acceptable
'er, which
lis sort of
)t apked to
convenient
politician,
ropist, who
f men who

tele for the

ondition of

is in soli-

1 reality. I

m that men
ght to help
rity. The
te the indi-
^cieties, ac-
ion reveals,
ed by this
le tendency
it springs
a natural

of solidarity

is most striking — the more this tendency is devehtprd and
the individual made subordinate to society, the more the
man falls into a habit of leaning on tbe couununity and the
less he relies on self, the more passive does he become when
opposed to the difTiculties of life; his will, energy, and
power of exertion are blunted. There is no other cause for
the inferiority of the East to the West.

As individu.al capacity decreases under such influences,
the patronizing power of society — which is but another ex-
pression for social solidarity — ought to increase in the same
proportion. Unfortunately, it is the contrary that h:i])pens ;
and that this is so is easy to realize, since society, to which
men are so fond of appealing, is, after all, but the result
and the ensnuhle of the individuals who compose it. So-
ciety boing composed of individuals, what weakens and im-
poverishes each individual also weaken > and impoverishes
the whole of society. I apologize for having to frame such
obvious truths.

This comes to saying that the more necessary the appeal
to solidarity is, the more difficult and unavailing it becomes.
This social system has, therefore, a double drawback; it
brings forth incapables, and nmltiplies their number more
and more, and at the same time it becomes less and less
fitted to assist them.

Solidarity, social assistance, is upon the whole an un-
availing, or at the best can only be a transitory and occa-
sional remedy for excessive suffering. It is not by any
means a remedy that cures ; it is a sedative, an anaesthetic
which may momentarily suppress acute pain; but it puts
the patient asleep as well as the pain.

The other drawback to the practice of the doctrine of
Solidarity is that it implies a previous consent on the part
of society, the famous social contract which M. Bourgeois
sighs for.

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i I

250 The Frenchman's and Anglo-Saxon's

On the contrary, the substitution of individual exertion
for collective exertion places public salvation in the hands
of each individual, in the same way that religion places in
the hands of each individual his eternal salvation. Indeed,
social salvation is, like eternal salvation, an individual, not a
collective, matter. It is the business of eacli man to solve for
himself the problem of life, and by education to place his
children in the best possible conditions for doing likewise.

When men are convinced that social progress is an in-
dividual task, each man acquires a feeling that he ought to
count on himself alone, and a disposition to exercise more
thoroughly his personal energy, will, and activity.

Would we then extol Selfishness as a social virtue?

The word is out, the word that frightens so many people.
But the subject should be made clear, so as to show on which
side the defenders of selfishness really are.

I have stated that solidarity is an illusion; I will add,
although there may be loud protestations, that it is a form
of selfishness : solidarity is unconfessed selfishness. I had
been tempted, to entitle tnis chapter " The Selfishness of
Altruism." You shall see that this is not a mere verbal
paradox.

There are two sides to Solidarity : there is the assistance
we give others J bi.t there is also the assistance we expect
from others.

Now, I ask you — which is the fascinating side of the doc-
trine? What is it that draws adherents to it? Is it the idea
of helping others, or that of being helped by others?

Any one who wishes to help others is free to do so at any
time. Indeed, people have been doing so since the begin-
ning of the world, without making a social doctrine of it,
without trumpeting the fact. It is, therefore, not the idea
of assisting others that accounts for the popularity of the
new solidarist theory.

Notions of Solidarity arc Different. 251

It is to be accounted for by the wish to be assistt^d, pa-
tronized, pensioned in some way by the State, the social
collectivity. There is the fascination ; that is what appeals
to the crowd, and at once reveals the Selfishness latent under
the garb of Solidarity.

The citizen who feeds the Budget, and the citizen who is
fed by it are both exercising solidarity, but in two very
different ways, and it is clear that there is more satisfaction
in the part which the second citizen takes in the perform-
ance. A man is more pleased in his role as a functionary
or official than in his role as a taxpayer : any man is bound
to consider solidarity from two points of view, and to prefer
the one.

In truth, man is more naturally inclined to exploit his
fellow man than to help him, in spite of M. Bourgeois's
allegations. Here are two recent illustrations, borrowed
from our processes of colonization.

The first is given by a professor of philosophy, M. Lapie,
who describes in the Revue de Metaphysique the exploiting
of the natives by the European in our colonies. " A most
arbitrary despotism flourishes from the top to the bottom
of the scale, under the most revolting forms. A real feu-
dalism is forming again in the colonies, the European being
the lord, and the native the vassal. The lord renders jus-
tice, that is to say, confiscates any cattle astray on his land,
and fixes himself the fine due to him. The servants imitate
their masters. Every European servant left alone with na-
tive servants, throws down his working implements and
begins to order the others about. The soldier gives the ex-
ample to the civilian. Conclusion : colonial life produces
but a low moral standard."

The second testimony is given by a man of a very dif-
ferent mind, a naturalist, the late Governor of Tonkin, M.
de Lanessan, who spent a good part of his life in the colo-

252 The Frenchman's and Anglo-Saxon's

nies. He speaks of the connections between Europeans and
natives in his new work, " Principes de Colonisation. " He
says that the most highly civilized man in the colonies be-
comes "like a child with a domestic animal." He treats
the natives like so many drudges, and shows no considera-
tion whatever for their religion, families, social organization,
no respect for their persons, their property, or even their
lives. The colonization of latter days " is not much less
barbarous than that for the most ancient periods!" And
the author quotes facts in abundance to back this judg-
ment. It is everywhere the same, in Indo-China, at
Madagascar, on the African Coast. M. de Lanessan con-
cludes that we ought to " give up such proceedings, if we
would avoid our colonial policy being instrumental in its
own ruin."

And such is our opinion, too — that we ought to give up
such abominable proceedings, which come to dividing hu-
manity into two classes :

1. The men who exercise solidarity for their own profit.

2. And those who would fain do so. ^
The former oppress the latter ; but for both categories

the ideal is to live on the community, on the collectivity,
on society.

But how are we to give up all this?

Certainly not by preaching solidarity, for even the least
interested of men have a tendency to turn solidarity to
their own advantage, and the more cuning take advantage
of it for exploiting their fellow-men, and employing them
to their own ends until they can bear it no more.

Social progress, therefore, consists in not leaning on one's
neighbour ; refraining from exploiting our neighbour is the
best expression of solidarity.

It is obvious that such a progress will be best realized by
relying on one' s own support and self-sufficiency, through

Notions of Solidarity are Different. 253

personal exertion and initiative. Which is the same as
saying that it is more important to reform individual than
social action.

We have seen that the mere fact of accustoming the minds
to counting on social action resulted in enervating virility ;
on the other hand, the mere fact of training men to rely en
themselves results in increasing virility. That is a well-
known example of the influence of surroundings. The good
workers thus become excellent workers, the indifferent work-
ers become good, the poor workers become passable, and the
very worst become only indifferent. The progress is gen-
eral.

This is no gratuitous hypothesis, but an abbreviated ex-
pression of established facts, easy to verify.

My excellent friend and collaborator, M. Paul de Eou-
siers, who has just finished another journey in America,*
wrote me last month from Cincinnati. " What a mine of
observations America is ! The constant immigration from
all covmtries brings to light the question of the adaptability
and non-adaptability of the different races to the special con-
ditions of American life. The question is interesting in the
highest degree. All that are actually capable of rising in
their new surroundings are transformed and rise accord-
ingly. Irishmen no longer sweep the streets ; they are no
longer the common, ignorant, and incapable labourers of
former days. This role is now that of Poles, Italians,
etc."

This is a most interesting fact, and sheds considerable
light on the subject under study. Compare it with the
very different information furnished by M. de Lanessan,
reported above, and you will prooe the very bottom of the
social question.

* M. de Rousiera had been entrusted with a mission on behalf of
Le Musee Social, founded by Count de Chambrun.

'fim

254 The Frenchman*s and Anglo-Saxon's

In both cases we are in presence of men who are settling
abroad — but with what different results I

The first went to establish themselves among populations
of a Communistic formation, where man, untrained to indi-
vidual initiative, is accustomed to rely on the community-
more than on himself. Under the influence of such sur-
roundings, natives and Europeans are likewise depressed :
the former by the oppression which he is made to suffer, and
the latter by that which he inflicts.

The others, on the contrary, went to establish themselves
among populations of a Particularistic formation, where the
individual energetically maintains his independence towards
the collectivity, where he is accustomed to rise through his
own exertions, where, in short, individual action is upper-
most.

Under the influence of these eminently virile surround-
ings, the European immigrant receives a sort of electric im-
pulse, which transforms him and makes of him another
man, capable of rising by himself. That is because there
is no facility there for leaning on others, or exploiting
others, and appealing to a vague and lying solidarity.
There men are in the country of Self -Help, where every
echo repeats: "Help thyself!"

And then, by a marvel the significance of which will be
apparent to all who have in any way studied social science,
the verj- Irishman is transformed and enabled to rise. This
man, whom centuries of life in a Communistic form had made
opposed to strong and constant exertion, for whom the soli-
darity of the clan was the very foundation of social organiza-
tion, and whose race has been brought by solidarity to the
low political status and social impotence seen in Europe, this
man rises from the commonest callings to which the solidar-
ist doctrine condemned him. No longer is he a mere street
sweeper or a common labourer: he becomes capable of

Saxon's

Notions of Solidarity are Different. 255

) are settling

r populations
lined to indi-
te community
of such sur-
le depressed:
to suffer, and

sh themselves
Lon, where the
dence towards
je through his
tion is upper-
rile surround-
of electric im-
: him another
because there
or exploiting
ng solidarity.
I, where every

which will be
social science,
[ to rise. This
form had made
whom the soli-
social organiza-
olidarity to the
in Europe, this
ich the solidar-
le a mere street
aes capable of

rising by himself. This man is on his way to social
salvation.

The Polish and Italian immigrants, who have only recently
come into contact with the Anglo-Saxon surroundings, are
still enslaved within the influences of their original forma-
tion, and have not yet been through their evolution. But
the progress accomplished by the Irishmen in their new
surroundings shows us the goal they are to reach gradually.
They, too, in the same surroundings, and thanks to them,
will find their way to social salvation.

And these men do not progress in a body, but individually,
as we stated before : the most capable, the hardest workers
rise first, and the others rise in their turns — each according
to his work.

Thus, societies of a Particularistic formation are really
more favourable to the development of solidarity than so-
cieties of a Communistic formation.

Those among my readers who are fond of following an
argument to the bitter end, may be disposed to ask now
what becomes of those individuals who are constitutionally
incapable of rising by themselves even in an atmosphere of
Self-Help, and in spite of the surrounding emulation.

To begin with, such social surroundings have the advan-
tage of reducing to a minimum the number of the incapables
which solidarist doctrines on the contrary multiply indefi-
nitely and progressively. The example of the Irishmen in
the United States is a sufficient proof of this. This is
something ; but it is not all.

By discouraging self-reliance, and training men to rely
on others, the solidarist doctrine not only does not raise the
incapables, but also gradually and pitilessly lowers the cap-
ables, diminishes their producing power, as economists say,
and impoverishes them ; thus making them less and less able
to help others — even if they were inclined to do so. And

}^:rr

256 The Frenchman's and Anglo-Saxon's

as social wealth is diminished from the same causes, the
incapables no longer find assistance either at the hands of
individuals, or at those of the State.

The first condition of the assistance of the incapables, the
weak, the unfortunate, is the existence of a numerous class
in a position to consecrate to " good works" the surplus of
their revenues. The social type which is most likely to
develop private fortunes is, therefore, also the best fitted for
public or private assistance. Compare the sums expended
for that double purpose by the English and Americans with
the ever decreasing sums expended in France, for instance,
and you will feel reassured.

So this social type has the advantage not only of assisting
the incapables, but also of promoting their gradual progress.
It thus leads humanity towards the solution of the social
question, and in particular of what goes by the name of the
labour question.

It te to solve the labour question — simply through
the grac ^x disappearance of the labourer. That is what
the world is coming to.

This statement may sound like a parac'ox, because we are
in the habit of judging of the future from the past, and our
minds are slow to get rid of the forms which are tending
to disappear and to become familiar with the new forms
which are beginning to crop up here and there.

And yet this evolution is already clearly defined among
the more advanced and progressive societies.

In England and in the United States especially, the
phenomenon is quite perceptible. Even now, in these
countries the lower callings are only exercised by foreign
individuals, or freshly landed immigrants who have not yet
been assimilated. As for the superior handicrafts, they are
more and more executed by machinery ; man tends to rise
from the status of a workman to that of an overseer. The

axons

Notions of Solidarity are Different. 257

causes, the
kie hands of

apables, the
nerous class
e surplus of
)st likely to
lest fitted for
ns expended
aericans with
for instance,

y of assisting
iual progress,
of the social
e name of the

mply through
That is what

because we are
J past, and our
h are tending
the new forms

re.

defined among

especially, the
now, in these
ised by foreign
10 have not yet
crafts, they are
,n tends to rise
overseer. The

peasant, the agricultural labourer, such as we see at work
in our old countries, is also disappearing ; in many parts of
the United States this type is becoming so rare as to present
the character of an archaeological specimen. In order to
execute the work of the plough, the weeding, harvesting,
and mowing, the man is conveniently seated on a box,
whence he calmly drives his team j it is almost a genteel
occupation j indeed the man is almost dressed as a gentle-
man — and soon will have the manners and notions of one.
His mind is open to all the progress in agriculture, and he
feels no hesitancy in availing himself of new methods.

The United States are now in the forefront of the move-
ment of social progress, even as they are at the head in the
matter of mechanical progress : these two phenomena are
more intimately connected than is commonly believed;
the second is the consequence of the first, and in its turn
reacts upon it. Who could calculate exactly the social
transformations which must be brought forth by the com-
bination of these two forces?

We should, therefore, let the old social form drop, as is
the case with the old hand-machines. All that belongs to
a past which is getting more and more distant and will never
return.

And whilst the world is thus on its triumphant way
towards new destinies, a man like M. Bourgeois — who Is,
moreover, not an unknown man, and calls himself the chief
of the French progressive party — comes and proposes to us,
as a new discovery, the most decrepit, worn-out, false, and
oppressive of social theories I This is really too bad.

258

What Social State is Most

CHAPTER V.

WHAT SOCIAL STATE IS MOST CONDUCIVE TO HAPPINESS?

SIR JOHN LUBBOCK, who has published a volume un-
der the title, " The Pleasures of Life, " has brought out
another on the same subject. An idea of the extraordinary
success of this book in England can be formed from the fact
that the French translation was made from the twentieth
and seventy-seventh editions of the lirst and decond volumes
respectively.

You will think that the author has tound the secret of
happiness, and retails the information to his contempora-
ries at a few shillings apiece. If that is the case, we must
recognize that the English are not hard to please, these two
volumes being in part a medley of sententious quotations
culled from well-known writers. By means of this compi-
lation, the author attempts to prove that man ought to con-
sider himself very happy to be alive.

To demonstrate this thesis, Sir John reviews all the rea-
sons for happiness that surround man : the satisfaction of
accomplished duty, the pleasure of reading all the master-
pieces of the human mind, the pleasures of friendship, the
pleasures of travel, the pleasures of Home, those offered by
Science, Love, Art, Poetry, Music, the beauties of Nature,
etc.

His optimism is throughout so candid that we can bear
him no grudge : " I have heard much," he said, " about the
ingratitude and selfishness of the world. It may have been
my good fortune, but I have never experienced either of
these unfeeling conditions. " * Surely this is a most extraor-

* " Mr. Nasmyth's Autobiography, " quoted by Sir John Lubbock.

Conducive to Happiness? 259

•PINESB?

volume vin-
brougbt out
ttraordinary
trom the fact
\^Q twentieth
3ond volumes

the secret of
i contempora-
case, we must
,ase, these two
pus quotations
of this compi-
ought to con-

ws all the rea-
atisf action of
ill the master-
friendship, the
hose offered by
ties of Nature,

,at we can bear
^Id " about the
may have been
enced either of
amofltextraoT-

iir John Lubbock.

dinary lifers experience— or that of a very innocent man!
/Vhat follows answers the same qualifications : " We are
really richer than we think. We often hear of Earth hun-
ger. People envy a great landlord, and fancy how delighted
it must be to possess a large estate. But too often, as Emer-
son says, ' if you own land, the land owns you. * Moreover,
have we not all, in a better sense — have we not all thousands
of acres of our own? The commons, the roads, and foot-
paths, and the sea-shore, our grand and varied coast — these
are all ours! The sea-coast has, moreover, two great ad-
vantages. In the first place, it is for the most part but
little interfered with by man, and in the second it exhibits
most instructively the forces of Nature. We are, indeed,
all great landed proprietors, if we only knew it I What we
lack is not land, but the power to enjoy it. This great in-
heritance has the additional advantage that it entails no
labour, requires no management. The landlord has the
trouble, but the landscape belongs to every one who has
eyes to see it. Thus Kingsley called the heaths round
Eversley his * winter garden, ' not because they were his in
the eyes of the law, but in that higher sense in which ten
thousand persons may own the same thing."

The whole book is pervaded with the same robust opti-
mism, and is supported by arguments about as powerful as
the foregoing. Evidently, it is not such weak, common-
place argumentation that fascinated the Anglo-Saxon readers
and made the success of the book. On the other hand, why
has the book met with such scanty success on this (the
French) side of the Channel? Why does the whole work,
with its mass of quotations, make us smile?

It is interesting to account for this. But to do so, we
must go further and more deeply than Sir John Lubbock
has gone into the pregnant and everlasting question of
Happiness.

liii

26o What Social State is Most

i* it>'

Let us first define the word.

We shall understand, if you please, by the word " happi-
ness," the state of satisfaction engendered by success in
surmounting the material and moral difiBculties of life.

By introducing into the definition the words " material
and moral," we imply the satisfaction of the two great needs
of humanity — those of the body and of the soul, and that
is the whole man.

We must first reduce to their just value certain elements
which many persons consider as the exclusive sources of
happiness, such as temperament, health, wealth, and re-
ligion.

A ffood temper disposes us to see the bright side of every-
thing — which is one way of finding illusion, for things have
not a bright side only. But every illusion, however tena-
cious, is bound to come to an end; at any rate it cannot
change the cruel reality of things. When the reality be-
comes too obstrusive, disillusionment is but the more cruel.
To deceive one's self concerning an evil is not triumphing
over it.

Good health spares us many physical tribulations; it
makes men fit for the work necessary to secure a livelihood;
yet it only gives them a power — and that power may remain
unemployed. A man may be in rude health and yet in a
state of utter destitution ; this is no condition for happiness.

Wealth is considered by many as the essential element of
happiness. Indeed it makes a man sure of his daily bread;
it enables him to surmount immediatehj most of the material
difficulties of life, which is a great point. But it avails him
absolutely nothing in surmounting the moral difiBculties • for
wealth tends to enervate his courage, will, and energy.
Besides, one of the chief sources of happiness lies in the

Conducive to Happiness ? 26 1

,rd " happi-
success in

of life.
Is " material
) great needs
)ul, and that

bain elements
\}Q sources of
altb, and re-
side of every-
or things have
however tena-
rate it cannot
the reality he-
;he more cruel.
Qot triumphing

ribulations-, it
^re a livelihood;
^er may remain
h and yet in a
n for happiness,
atial element of
his daily bread;
t of the material
But it avails him
1 difficulties if 01
ill, and energy,
piness lies in the

expectation 01 hope of the desired things. The desired ob-
ject, when onc»i attained, loses most of its charm. Now
wealth does a vay with that hope and expectancj'^ : \. per-
mitting immediate satisfaction, it abo brings satiety.
Hence the painful and constant craving of rich people for
fresh and ever-renewed distractions. Wealth makes every-
thing pall on us; a blase cannot; relish the pleasures of life,
for him the bloom is off everything. Our mistake is to con-
sider wealth from the standpoint of poverty, or mediocrity ;
we ought to isolate it from all points of comparison; we
should then be able to judge its exact worth and actually
find '•hat it falls short of all our expectation.

Indeed, we should not be long in finding that wealth hardly
solves all material difficulties, extraordinary though this
may sound. The expenditure incidental to a life of pleasure
and luxury often goes beyond a revenue which cannot be
added to by work. A habit of spending without counting
is soon acquired, and the habit of working soon lost — and
there is no compensation. Such is the gap through which,
in all times, the greatest fortunes have flowed away. A
family's ruin may be the work of one or several generations ;
in any case, ruin from such a cause is inevitable. The
habit of work and exertion, when once dropped, is not easily
resumed. Our nobility and wealthy bourgeoisie are exam-
ples to the point. It is the old, old story.

Upon the whole, in surmounting the material and moral
difficulties of life, poverty is a more powerful lever than
wealth, being at least a stimulant to exertion.

Rellgiorif according to some, is sufficient for ensuring
happiness. No doubt it does lend a powerful help against
the moral difficulties of life. But if a man has not in him
natural abilities which he may develop, religion can offer
him only resignation : "God's will be done!" Such resig-
nation is but an implicit acknowledgment of misery. Eeli-

262

What Social State is Most

gion, in such a case, has no other view of life : A trial which
we must go through with equanimity — Life's a vale of tears!
— Happiness is not of this world — Religion's goal indeed is
not happiness in this mortal life, but in our future life ; it
does not deal with time, but with Eternity. That the lat-
ter may be infinitely preferable, is not the question here ;
the actual question is — what ensures happiness here below?
We are not writing on theology, but on Social Science.

That is not all. We are bound to acknowledge that some
pious people apply wrongly the principle of resignation.
They make it a pretext for indolence. Life, they say, is
not worth so much trouble ! And they rely too much on
Providence, which they expect will not forsake the faithful.
They forget the precept : " Help thyself, and Heaven will
help thee;" they find it an easier course to let Heaven do
the whole work.

In this state of mind, man is weak in presence of the
material and moral difficulties of life. So religion, if ill
understood, instead of being a help and contributing to hap-
piness, may become a detriment. The religious mind will
find consolation in such adages : " God tries His own peo-
ple ;" " The children of darkness are wiser»than the children
of light" — a convenient way of leaving to the Deity the re-
sponsibility of our own faults and errors.

We are, therefore, justified in saying that the different
elements mentioned do not suffice for ensuring happiness,
but only contribute to it in a certain measure. The truth
is their action is more or less efficacious according to the
social conditions to which they are applied. Our task now
is to find out what social state is most conducive to happi-
ness, that is to say, to that state of satisfaction which is
the lot of people who have been really successful in sur-
mounting the material and moral difficulties of life.

If we consider the various societies from this point of

^ trial which
vale of tears!
roal indeed is
uture life; it
That the lat-
uestion here;
iS here below?
1 Science,
jdge that some
)f resignation,
'e, they say, is
y too much on
ke the faithful,
id Heaven will
let Heaven do

presence of the
\ religion, if i^
ributing to Jiap-
gious mind will
3 His own reo-
tan the children
he Deity the re-

|hat the different
iring happiness,
[ure. The truth
iccording to the
Our task now
dducive to happi-
[sfaction which is
juccessful in sur-
^3 of life,
[om this point of

Conducive to Happiness ? 263

view, we find that they promote happiness—and the reverse
of happiness — in very different ways, which may be repre-
sented by three quite distinct groups or cases : —

1. Happiness promoted by the facilities of life;

2. Happiness hindered by the difficulties of life ;

3. Happiness promoted in spite of the difficulties of life.
Let us examine what is hidden under these somewhat

hieroglyphical formulas.

II.

You know the proverb : " Happy nations have no his-
tory." This proverb is scientifically true.

What nations have no history? — Mostly those that live
by the simple use of spontaneous productions, such, for in-
stance, as the nomad pastors of steppes and prairies.
Thanks to the inexhaustible abundance of the grass, they
need not subject themselves to any lucrative work. This
is the type of which the Mongolians and Tartars are the
most characteristic examples. I leave aside the pastors of
desert steppes, such as the Arabs and Saharians, who are
compelled to supply the inefficiency of the pastoral art by
sundry kinds of manufacture and transport.

To tht pastor pure and simple, the two classes of diffi-
culties — material and moral — are made singularly easy.

The difficulties met with in procuring food, clothing, and
lodging, are for them reduced to almost nothing. The flock
or herd provides for all, and man has no need for any ex-
ertion to provide the sustenance of his p.nimals.

Truly, nowhere on the surface of the globe is man com-
pelled to work less, and nowhere are his means of existence
less precarious. He is free from the daily task and worry
which are our lot in the mere pursuit of our means of exist-
ence. The uncultivated grass, which belongs to all, re-

f-r.

264

What Social State is Most

quires no mowing, turning over for haymaking or stacking,
but is all-sufficient and solves the whole question. Man
thus escapes the climax of unhappiness and misery — pau-
perism. There is no labour question, for the good reason
that there is no paid labour.

Man, thus ensured by Nature against material difficulties,
is equally insured against moral difficulties.

Wg should not judge him from ourselves : we have de-
sires, needs, aspirations, which were developed by a wholly
different social evolution — and which he lacks ; and we are
unhappy whenever we cannot satisfy those needs, made im-
perious by our social surroundings.

And when we have succeeded in satisfying them, other
aspirations and desires and needs, more and more compli-
cated, less and less attainable, torment our souls.

Hence the sayings : " Happiness consists in limiting our
wants, " " We ought to be content with mediocrity" {Aurea
mediocritas). That is all very well, but our social state in-
clines us for the very contrary, and unceasingly conspires
against ouch wisdom — which is only considered wisdom be-
cause of its rarity.

The best proof that the pastor is coniented.with his lot (for
that indeed is being happy), is the difficulty always experi-
enced in getting him to change his way of living. Cer-
tainly the most laborious evolution ever gone through was
that from a nomadic to a sedentary life, from pastoral art
to agriculture and other labour by which we earn a living.
" Civilized" peoples whose frontiers are inhabited by pas-
toral populations know this : they never could bring about
such changes — in the few cases attempted — but through ex-
cessive, even violent constraint. To put the Slavs, for in-
stance, through that evolution, took several centuries of
constraint at ^ ^e hands of the Tzars, whose rule is anything
but gentle. As yet the transition is but partial : the Slav

Conducive to Happiness ?

265

)r stacking,
tion. Han
isery— pau-
□rood reason

L difficulties,

we have de-

by a wholly

; and we are

ds, made im-

; them, other
more compli-

als.

limiting our
crity" {Aurea
ocial state in-
igly conspires

d wisdom be-

nth his lot (for
ilways experi-
living. Cer-
e through was
n pastoral art
earn a living,
abited by pas-
Id bring about
lut through ex-
Slavs, for in-
i\ centuries of
ule is anything
Ttial: the Slav

is a most primitive agriculturist ; he still lives by his cattle
as much as possible. He still estimates his prosperity — not
from the area under cultivation — but from the number of
his heads of sheep and cattle.

The ancients appreciated the blissful state of these pas-
toral populations. Homer, and after him Ephorus, calls
them "the most just of men." The Nomads, "those just
and virtuous men, " says Choerilus. " They lead most frugal
lives, and have no care of gathering riches, " says Strabo.
Modern travellers give us the same impression : " These
good Mongolians," says Father Hue, who lived two years
among them, "have essentially religious temperaments:
future life occupies their thoughts continuously; things of
this world a^e as nothing for them. They don't seem to be
a living part of this world. " *

Here, indeed, are men who know how to limit their wants,
and who find happiness in a mediocrity which is far from
golden. The foundation of such happiness is found in fa-
vourable physical surroundings and easily satisfied needs.

Life is even made easier to them by the necessity of liv-
ing in communities composed of large families, each family
often comprising as many as a hundred persons, as in those
of the Biblical patriarchs, f

Among them man is never alone.

They .lean on each other, and are thus in a measure en-
sured against all risks. The weak, the incapable, the im-
provident are not left to themselves and exposed to the
lamentable situations so frequent in our civilization.

In this first group of populations, man is therefore doubly
supported by the inexhaustible abundance of the spontane-

* " Voyage en Tartarie, " t. I. , p. 48.

f La Science Sodale has abundantly explained why the Family
Community is a necessity of nomadic pastoral life or life in the
steppes.

m'-^

V*y"

! «

266

What Social State is Most

ous products of the soil, and by the family community.
Leaning on these two supports, he is ensured, in a great
measure, against misfortune, against the difficulties of life.
He feels happy, since he does not wish to change his way
of living.

Outside the region of the steppes, there are other numer-
ous populations, which have at their disposal, although in
a smaller way, the resources offered by spontaneous natural
products and communal family support. They are thus
preserved from the difficulties of existence and consequent
perils. These populations form a decreasing series which
start from the type just described and gradually disappear
in our second group.

u ' III.

In this second group, the two resources cf spontaneous
natural products and family support are absent, and there-
fore cannot help man in confronting the difficulties of
life. But instead of confronting them, his principal care
is to avoid them, and all his efforts are directed to that
end.

Whence comes this dominant desire to » escape the dif-
ficulties of life, instead of confronting and surmounting
thcBi? We might answer that it is in human nature to shun
exertion. The answer would be partly correct, but it would
remain for us to explain why education and necessity have
not succeeded in modifying this natural tendency.

As social science demonstrates the populations belonging
to this group, which implies the greater part of the globe
and part of Western Europe, are of communistic origin;
their ancestors can be traced to a time when they still had
at their disposal a more or less considerable abundance of
spontaneous natural products. Upon the whole, this type
is the same as the preceding, but bereft of its advantages,

Conducive to Happiness? 267

community.
I, in a great
Ities of life,
nge his way

)ther nnmer-
although in
leous natural
aey are thus
d consequent
series which
.Uy disappear

I spontaneous
it, and there-
difficulties of
principal care
ected to that

scape the dif-
surmounting
rature to shun
t, but it would
necessity have
ency.

ions belonging
t of the globe
unistic origin;
1 they still had
abundance of
hole, this type
its advantages,

and placed on a soil which can no longer satisfy man's
wants without labour.

' Represent to yourselves a man accustomed to rely for all
things either on the generosity of Nature, or on a helpful
community, and now imagine him compelled to renounce
these two providences and fall back on hard work in order
to earn a living. Necessity says: "Work hard, be ener-
getic, rely on yourself alone; 'tis the only way of success-
fully coping with the difficulties of existence, the only way
of finding happiness." On the other hand, his social origin
says: "Labour, exertion, energy are powerful necessities;
far more pleasant to avoid them. Indeed in such avoidance
happiness lies." And nine times out of ten, the voice of
the social origin is the louder of the two, and the more likely
to be heeded, because it touches and causes to vibrate one
of the most sensitive chords in the human heart — that of
habit, and a gratifying habit, to boot.

But the way to circumvent these ever present and unpleas-
ant necessities of life? Quite naturally, the first way that
occurs is the traditional process of leaning on others, trying
to live on others, exploiting others, looking for help and
succour from the community.

That is the well-known process of the drone towards the
worker-bee.

This young man, twenty years old, full of health and
vigour, who relies entirely on the money he gets from ^is
family to keep him — is a drone.

A drone too, this young man, twenty-five to thirty years
old, who seeks in marriage only a dowry — that is to say, a
convenient way of being kept by his wife.

A drone is this yoang man who disdains an independent
profession and considers as honourable none but those ad-
ministrative careers which make individual exe 7tion unnec-
essary ; the Budget will keep this one.

268

What Social State is Most

i'w

A drone — this bourgeois, or this workman, who, finding
himself face to face with the difficulties of modern life,
thinks of nothing better than having recourse to the com-
munity — whether State or Municipal — and claiming there-
from help and protection, with the view of being kept by
the Budget.

A drone is this politician who works on human folly and
acquires popularity by promising anything that his foolish
constituents may ask for, with the same end of being kept
by the community which he does his best to deceive and
ruin.

With such surroundings, how easy for Socialism to make
its appearance — for does it not bring the fascinating prom-
ise of a social state wherein every one shall be a drone?
Unfortunately — for the success of that fascinating prospect
— no drones are possible unless there are worker-bees also ;
and, moreover, if the number of the drones is to be aug-
mented, the working power of the other bees should neces-
sarily be increased too. It is a pity — for it is assuredly
most pleasant to be able to live on the community.

Some one may tell me that such a social state is in no
way disagreeable. The whole question is «for each to try
and be put on the list of drones. To be a drone — that is
precisely happiness. Three cheers for the drones I

Unfortunately, this social state — judging by facts — does
not seem likely to develop a very great sum of happiness.
The problem to be solved is too difficult — Find happiness,
with as little work as possible, in a society which requires,
if it would live, a large quota of work. The problem pre-
sents a situation analogous to that of a man whose task
might be every day of his life to row against the tide —
everything is against him. This is no image of happiness,
and not reassuring even for the man who has been success-
ful in getting one of those administrative berths which guar-

Conducive to Happiness ? 269

antee him in a measure against the uncertainties of exist-
ence. Most men who are thus placed have but a narrow
life of it, obliged as they are to live and bring up their
families on a mere pittance. It means shabby-genteel pov-
erty — the hardest to bear! It means insufficient resources,
and the cruel suffering entailed by the inability to keep up
one's " rank;" moreover, it is a subordinate existence, with-
out lofty hopes, without broad horizons.

As for the others — those who are not successful in getting
into the administrative sinecures — existence is even harder
for them. They feel the more bitterly the compulsion of
personal work and its uncertainty, because they were not in
the least prepared for it by their education, because work is
for them but a last resource, and represents the most cruel
disappointment in their aspiration for sinecures.

For them, in short, life is an all-too-heavy load, under
which they groan. Their Communistic origin leads them
to consider their own property as family property, and
inclines them as parents to rob themselves of a large pro-
portion of their \. orldly goods, wherewith to endow their
children, aven in their own lifetime. They are thus obliged
to make as many separate fortunes as they have children to
get married, and this when it is hard enough to acquire a
personal fortune of one's own. Indeed, that is a perform-
ance so difficult or impossible of achievement that we can-
not actually find anything for it but to restrict the number
of our children. "We only give to our children what we
steil from our race, which is thus forbidden expansion. In
srite of this, our load is still too heavy, and condemns us to
a continuous series 01 privations and petty saving, which
saddens life and paralyzes our faculty of happiness.

This state of general embarrassment is outwardly ex-
pressedby different but significant manifestations. I will
only touch on four of these, which correspond with four

■*■'

. f

270

What Social State is Most

phases of the evolution of Communistic societies, and which
I will purposely choose on different points of the globe.

The first is the form of disenchantment peculiar to the
populations of India, and embodied in the doctrine of the
Nirvana. It spread among the group of Eastern popula-
tions, whose formation still clings to its patriarchal origin,
although they are now deprived of its original boons.
Nirvana is deliverance, salvation — happiness, in short, pro-
posed to humanity by the founder of Buddhism. In what
does this happiness consist? It consists in escaping the
disagreeable prospect of a second existence similar to the
first, in avoiding transmigration, by entering a state of im-
personality and unconsciousness. One of the means of
attaining that negative state is indefinite contemplation, or
rather a habit of passiveness as absolute as possible, a nega-
tion of activity, which is only next to the absence of life —
the negation of happiness. Man decidedly despairs of ever
finding happiness, and takes a refuge in nothingness. So
he does not even attempt to struggle against the difficulties
of existence ; he capitulates purely and simply.

The second of these manifestations is Nihilism. That is
one of the forms of disappointment amon^ the Northern
Slavs, that is to say, those populations of Eastern Europe
which had to give up the boons of patriarchial life. In
their new surroundings they were met by the stern law of
work. They did all they could to avoid it; but being pow-
erless in doing so, they took a refuge in denying everything
and in the idea of pan-destruction. Those people would
not seem to have found happiness in this life.

The third of these manifestations is Socialism. This is
the actual form of the disenchantment felt by the more or
less Communistic populations of the West of Europe.
Their origin alone sufficiently explains, as I have said, the
appearance of this doctrine, which invites men to find hap-

Conducive to Happiness? 271

}, and which
le globe,
uliar to the
trine of the
;ern popula-
•chal origin,
ginal boons,
n short, pro-
m. In what
escaping the
milar to the
I state of im-
be means of
jmplation, or
sible, a nega-
3nce of life —
spairs of ever
ingness. So
he difficulties

•

:^m. That is
the Northern
stem Europe
tiial life. In
) stern law of
ut being pow-
ng everything
people would

ism. This is
y the more oi*
b of Europe,
have said, the
in to find hap-

piness in this community, that is to say, in the suppression
of personal exertion and initiative.* At any rate, the doc-
trine, like the preceding, is highly expressive of people who
cannot find happiness in life such as they have it.

Lastly (for I must limit myself), I will state as another
manifestation the doctrine of Pessimism j which is the form
of disenchantment among the educated classes of Western
Europe. I classify under this head a whole gathering of
more or less philosophical, more or less maudlin doctrines,
which predominate among German or Celtic groups, and are
in a way representative of their conception of existence. I
am aw, .'e that the Greeks and Italians take life less tragi-
cally, and boast a more cheerful philosophy ; but it is a re-
markable fact — which confirms our law — that those two
peoples inhabit countries where the tree and bush vegeta-
tion serve them in the same way as the grass does the pas-
tors, with hardly any cultivation. A goodly part of the
population live by the mere gathering of the fruit, and with
a very small amount of work. " Deus nobis hcec otia fecit. ^^
The lazzarone is the accentuated type of this group of
populations. Indeed, the people of the Mediterranean are
among those who find most happiness in existence.

■* On this subject, read the violent diatribe of M. Paul Lafargue
against work. It is entitled, "Le Droit ^ la Paresse" ("The Right
to Idleness"). This is the beginning of it: "A strange madness
possesses the working classes in countries where the capitalistic civi-
lization reigns. This madness drags in its trail the personal and
social miseries which for the last two centuries have been torturing
pitiable humanity. This madness is the love of work. ... In capi-
talistic Society, work is the cause of all intellectual degeneration
and all organic deformation. " The author quotes the Spanish prov-
erb, Beacmizar e% salud (Rest is Health) .

272 What Social State is Most

%■

' i

I ,''1

IV.

It is in the third case that the problem of happiness seems
most to be despaired of, and yet it is there that it is most
triumphantly sob-- Up to now, we have seen man seek-
ing happiness in rt ^t, or at least in as little work as possible.
In the first case man finds happiness — but a stagnant and
low kind of happiness ; in the second case he does not find
it. In the third, he seeks happiness in individual and
intense exertion ; he no longer tries to escape the difficulties
of existence, but looks upon them deliberately, takes their
exact measure, and boldly attacks them.

On the first consideration, the idea that happiness could
be found in exertion and from difficulties overcome, savours
of a somewhat bitter irony, and sounds much like a chal-
lenge. No doubt, if I were to judge the question from my
own feelings, I might think so, being naturally more dis-
posed to rest than hard work ; indeed I might perhaps find
no great difficulty in accepting the life of the pastor and
feeling happy therein. But that is not the question ; what
we have to do now is to find out facts, and\ express them as
exactly as possible.

However extraordinary it may appear, the fact is easily
realized after a few seconds' reflection. Why should we
seek happiness in the avoidance of the difficulties of exist-
ence? Evidently because the necessary exertion seems too
much for us. If I were asked to ride a hundred kilometers
on my bicycle (this example will do as well as another), I
would hasten to decline the proposal, because I do not feel
equal to it. But this same proposal would be joyfully wel-
comed by a* great many people, simply because they feel
they are trained up to it. So, what to me would be an in-
surmountable difficulty, and a most disagreeable enterprise,

Conducive to Happiness? 273

ineBS aeema
it is most

I man seek-
as possible.

jagnant and

oes not find

Lividual and

le difficulties

, takes their

)piness could
jome, savours
1 like a cbal-
ition from my
Jly more dis-
; perhaps find
he pastor and
uestion-, what
press them as

fact is easily
Thy should we
ulties of exist-
tion seems too
Ired kilometers
as another), I
,e I do not feel
)e joyfully wel-
cause they feel
should be an in-
able enterprise,

is to others but sport and keen pleasure. It is so with the
difficulties of existence. To the untrained, they are insur-
mountable indeed ; but it is possible that they may be, by
well-trained men, viewed as pleasurable sport. If it be so,
it follows that existence must present to such fine fellows a
singularly more pleasant aspect than it does to us, and that
Nlrvdndy Nihilism, Socialism, or Pessimism have no fasci-
nation whatever for them. They view existence from the
other side of the spy-glass, and consequently have a totally
different view of it ; they see life beautiful ; they are opti-
mists.

The whole question is — Aio there such people?

Those readers who have read through the preceding pages
know perfectly well that there are such people ; but I should
wish to show them, and that is new, that the social forma-
tion which "vins superiority in the world, is also that which
makes possible for him the greater sum of earthly happiness
— everything being equal on all sides, as mathematicians say.

I have described (BooV I., Chapter III.) a type of Eng-
lish school which tends especially to train young men capable
of taking care of themselves in life. Above all qualities
they train their boys' energy, will, and perseverance; the
bodies are trained as well as the minds. M. de Rousiers
and M. Bureau have described, in La Science Sociale^ the
same process of formation, whether in England or in the
United States. The young men are thus trained by their
families, in their schools, and indeed by all their social sur-
roundings, with the idea that a man " ought always to fall
on his feet, like a cat." They are not brought up for rest,
and dolce far niente, but for the Struggle for existence, for
Self-help; m short, they are taught to march forward and
go ahead.* These terms do not frighten them, because they

^ These terms are printed in English in the French edition.—
Trans.

.#■■

%:.

•m

:«'

274

What Social State is Most

know exactly what they mean. They are not "afraid of
work." They know that their training has fitted them to
surmount the difficulties of existence.

And, indeed, that redoubtable Anglo-Saxon race has al
ready ousted us from most of the advance-posts which we oc-
cupied in the world. Not much more than one century ago
we were still predominant in Asia, in Africa, and in America;
on all points we have retreated before those Anglo-Saxons;
they are our hereditary rivals, the rivals whose progress
ought to be our model. By repeating this, we do not only
speak in the name of science, but also as shrewd patriots.

My aim, for the present, is simply to show that such a
conception of existence actually brings the greatest lot of
happiness attainable, owing to the consciousness of superi-
ority, and to the pregnant idea that it is easy for any man
to surmount all the difficulties of existence.

Here is an example as piquant as it is original, which I
cull from Le Temps newspaper, under the signature of M.
de Varigny : —

" Towards the end of last January, a number of young men of the
best families were sitting together at a joyful siipper in one of the
fashionable restaurants of Boston. They were young graduates
newly-ground from Harvard University, where all had distin-
guished themselves, both in their classical examinations and by
their prowess at all kinds of sport. One of them expressed the
opinion that 07ilp men who have no faith in ihemsehss ever were or re-
mained poor in the United States. He added that he himself, were
he to lose the fortune left him by his father, would find it easy-
even if he were to begin without a single dollar, and as naked as
the babe just born — to pay his way round the world on a journey of
one year, and return home at the end of this period rich up to |5,000
(£1000). The wager was taken up at ten thousand dollars a side,
and it was settled that, on February 22nd, Paul Jones should repair
to the Turkish Baths of the Athletic Association, should there di-
vest himself of all clothing, and at a stated hour should start on his
adventurous career round the world.

Conducive to Happiness? 275

"afraid of
ced them to

race has al-
which we oc-
B century ago
1 in America;
nglo-Saxons ;
hose progress
e do not only
,wd patriots.
,w that such a
greatest lot of
tess of Buperi-
y for any man

.ginal, which I
ignature of M.

pung men of the
)er in one of the
young graduates
all had diatin-
ninations and by
em expressed the
Ivea ever were oi' re-
t he himself, 'were
3uld find it easy-
, and as naked as
•Id on a iourney of
d rich up to |5, 000
md dollars a side.
ones should repair
I, should there di-
riiould start on his

"The great difficulty was the start. Naked as a worm, Piu.l
Jones couldn't start. Ho must And the means of earning some
clothing, however cheap. Philosophicnlly, and as a man who had
never done anything else in his life, he forthwith began cluauiug
the bouts of members of tlio club, and the humble compeusuliou
allowed by the club for this kind of service permitted hira to get liis
food first, and then to procure the indispensable clothing. This
took him a fortni/^ht — which was much, considering that he had
only a twelvemonth before him. Once outside the premises, ho had
to live and put asid'^ enough money to pay for the first expenses of
his long journey. His plan was nmde : reach London, and thence
start for India. Ho set up as an itinerant newsvendor, a porter, u
translator (for he knew French, German, and Italian). As an in-
terpreter, he obtained a free passage on an American steamer, and
landed in London with fifty dollars in his pocket. He was now
launched and destined to go on without stoppage. To his little
capital ho added the proceeds of some lectures, which ho delivered
in London, and found it thus increased tenfold. He made with
3ome of the London newspapers an arrangement which resulted in
his making good all expenses incidental to his passage to India —
one of which was the purchase of a judiciously chosen pack of
goods, of which he advantageously disposed in Calcutta. This lat-
ter venture set him comfortably afloat. At the present tii.io ho is
well on his way, and from the letters he writes to his friends and
tlie reports he sends to the Press, it appears that he now regrets not
having doubled the amount of his wager, even if he must also have
doubled the amount which he is to bring back. "

It seems that the laurels of this American self-made man
disturbed the slumbers of the English, for Le Petit Journal
informs us that two young Englishmen, wishing to show that
John Bull is not inferior to cousin Jonathan in the matter
of energy and the art of taking care of self, have just crossed
France, as a consequence of a similar wager.

We have defined happiness, " the state of satisfaction en-
gendered by success in surmounting the material and moral
difficulties of life. " Hence, and in accordance with this def-
mition, the social form which produces in the highest degree
men capable of daring and surmounting these diflBiculties,

, r-

;i. I

276

What Social State is Most

as in sport, is singularly favourable to promoting happiness.
I do not know whether the three young men above alluded
to will succeed in winning their bets ; that is not the inter-
esting question for us. What is characteristic is the state
of mind and personal power revealed by their acts. They
show us a conception of life utterly different from that ex-
hibited in the two preceding groups of populations. In
these two groups, man surrenders to the harshness of exist-
ence ; he is made unhappy by the consciousness of his infe-
riority. In the last case, on the contrary, man is conscious
of actual superiority to all difficulties, and such a feeling of
consciousness is enough to impart to him the smiling cer-

•i

tainty of ultimate victory.

Such a man holds — as far as that is possible here below —
happiness in his hand.

The drone is but the exception here. *

Those men are no drones who from twenty years of age
expect no subsidies from their families, who marry dower-
less girls, who disdain administrative posts, and prefer to
embrace the commoner and more independent professions,
and who in all things rely on private enterprise more than
on any aid or protection on the part of the State.

We should be penetrated with the firm belief that these
men, thus left to their own strength and devices, are really
happier than the men who at the least obstacle seek a sup-
port outside themselves. We may find in this feeling the
secret of the prodigious and (to us) inexplicable success of

* The drone type is mostly represented, in the Anglo-Saxon world,
by the numerous elements of Communistic origin mixed with the
populations, whether original elements, as in Great Britain, or ele-
ments imported by immigration, as in the United States. It is
known that in the latter country the class of politicians is recruited
mostly among the Irisii. Moreover, we may note that those Com-
munistic elements include the most turbulent persons, and the least
satislied.

Conducive to Happiness ? 277

; happiness,
ove alluded
3t the iuter-
is the state
acts. They
■om that ex-
ilations. In
less of exist-
s of his infe-
i is conscious
a a feeling of
) smiling cer-

here below —

years of age
marry dower-
and prefer to
it professions,
ise more than
jaije*

lief that these
ices, are really
cle seek a sup-
his feeling the
ible success of

glo-Saxon world,
1 mixed with the
tt Britain, or ele-
ted States. It is
icians is recruited
5 that those Com-
ions, and the least

such a book as Sir John Lubbock's. To be satisfied with
the mild arguments of the author in favour of the Pleasures
of Life, it is necessary that one should contain within one's
self a tremendous dose of contentment; it is necessary that
one should vibw life under such gay colours as vje can hardly
imagine. The fact is, that this is a book written by an
Englishman for Englishmen.

The translator seems to have realized as much : " In this
book, " says he, " are condensed the very best qualities of
the English mind." The book is essentially English in its
cheerful and candid optimism. And the author, who loves
to call his country by its old appellation of " Merry Eng-
land," writes: "We must look to the East for real melan-
choly. What can be sadder than the lines with which
Omar Khayyam opens his quatrains : *

" * We sojourn here for one short day or two,
And all the gain we get is grief and woe ;
And then, leaving life's problems all unsolved
And harassed by regrets, we have to go ;'

or the Devas' song to Prince Siddartha, in Sir Edwin
Arnold's beautiful version:

" * We are the voices of the wandering wind,
Which moan for rest, and rest can never find ;
Lol as the wind is, so is mortallife —
A moan, a sigh, a sob, a storm, a strife*?"

And meeting with us on common ground. Sir John adds:
" If indeed this be true, if mortal life be so sad and full of
suffering, no wonder that Nirvana — the cessation of sorrow
— should be welcomed even at the sacrifice of consciousness."

Such is, indeed (as we ourselves had found) the gloomy
Eastern philosophy and poetry ; such is also the melancholy
character of so many Germanic and Celtic works of litera^

* Quoted from Whinfield's translation.

278

What Social State is Most

*i#<|

gi|?;»i|

tare, the inspiration of people untrained to work out their
social salvation.

In his turn, Sir John Lubbock aflBrms that the Anglo-
Saxon has no repugnance for labour, exertion, or struggle,
and confirms the statement in a most characteristic manner.
Bead the commencement of Chapter X., entitled, " Labour
and Rest:" " Among the troubles of life I do not, of course,
reckon the L^ccessity of labour." I cannot well imagine
such a phrase from the pen of a writer of a Communistic
origin : the latter would have counted labour as one of the
chief troubles of existence. Sir John, on the contrary,
suppresses this difficulty with admirable candour. " Of
course, " says he, " my readers will not find it such a matter
of course, neither do I, indeed ; for I am all along censuring
myself, as well as my readers."

Sir John insists : " Work indeed, and hard work too, if
only it be in moderation, is in itself a rich source of hap-
piness. We all know how quickly time passes when we
are well employed, while the moments hang heavily on the
hands of the idle. Occupation drives away care and all the
small troubles of life. The busy man has no time to brood
or to fret. . . . If we Englishmen have suciqeeded as a race,
it has been due in no small measure to the fact that we have
worked hard. ..."

So do our moralists descant on the love of work; in our
t,chools, children are taught it. But we praise and recom-
mend work as a duty and a necessity, for applying ourselves
to which we are to do violence to our instincts. The tone
is different here; work is considered as an incontestable
" source of happiness," not as a " trouble."

I had occasion to submit the question to an English young
lady. She agreed with Sir John Lubbock that the pleasures
of labour were many, that there is much satisfaction to be
found in exertion, in the struggle, in conquered difficulties.

Conducive to Happiness ? 279

We all think so, she said. And as I pretended not to un-
derstand, she added that, even when he is not working, an
Englishman must needs exert himself; he must row a boat,
or play cricket, or kick a football; he will accomplish a
hard and perilous feat of mountaineering, for the mere
pleasure of conquering a difficulty. Surely it wants a fine
training to get a man to consider labour in this amiable
fashion.

Sir John Lubbock tells of an Eastern visitor to England,
who, being a spectator at a game of cricket, marvelled at
hearing that several of the players were rich men, and
inquired why they did not hire some poor fellows to do the
work for them.

That is just the idea of labour imparted by the Commu-
nistic formation. You know the Turkish proverb: " 'Tis
better to be seated than standing, lying down than seated,
dead than lying down." Such an ideal is certainly not very
fascinating. No wonder the populations whose ideal it is
are more unhappy, and consequently gloomier, than the
others.

Men whose maxim is rather that it is better to be stand-
ing up th?,n lying down are bound to be happier, since suc-
cess in life requires as little sitting down as possible.

But it takes a long day to get accustomed to such an ideal
of unabated energy. It is not sufficient to teach and repeat
in our schools and universities that happiness is to be found
in work. Thus formulated, the assertion is false, and the
very men who utter it hardly believe in it, and often do not
practise it. If it were true, men would all be indefatigable
workers, for all men desire to be happy. The truth is, the
mass of mankind do not find happiness in work.

Happiness is not in work, but in fitness for work, which
is very different. How many people think, " Would that I
could be fond of work!" and yet cannot love work, and

-a'

280 State Most Conducive to Happiness.

never will, notwithstanding cill the counsels of the most
wholesome morals and philosophy, notwithstanding the
commands of religion ! To acquire such fitness, which is
the key to happness in this world, demands the whole
length and depth of a social formation, implying an unend-
ing series of combined and accumulated phenomena.

To obtain this rare product, we want —

Parents fully convinced that they owe their children
nothing but education, though a manly education ;

Next, young men fully convinced that they will have to
shift for themselves in life ;

Young men fully determined to seek in marriage a help-
mate, not a dowry ;

A Government that will reduce to a minimum its own
prerogatives, and the number of its functionaries and offi-
cials — a measure the effect of which would be to attract
young men to the independent callings, which demand exer-
tion, private initiative and personal labour;

In fine, and as a consequence, a social state in which the
politician, and the idle man, shall reap less consideration
than the agriculturist, the manufacturer, and the trader.

All this, you see, is no easy performance.> But such a
combination of reforms alone can ensure for humanity the
greatest possible suia of happiness in this world of ours ;
this alone can instil into our sons first the taste and then
the love of work and exertion.

And there is no other fundamental solution to the social
question.

Diness.

Insufficiency of Moral Action. 281

the most
inding the
I, which is
the whole

an unend-
sna.

ir children

ill have to

age a help-

lum its own
es and offt-
3 to attract
3mand exer-

n which the
onsideration
le trader.
But such a
umanity the
rid of ours;
te and then

to the social

CHAPTER VI.

INSUFFICIENCY OF MORAL ACTION AND SYMPTOMS OF SOCIAL

REGENERATION.

THERE is now living a group of men who seek social re-
generation through moral action pure and simple, and
who — as they themselves express it — seek "to pacify the
conscience by the leading of a better life. "

To bring each man to this point, they mean to develop
the spirit of sacrifice and the love of one's neigh ^< sir. In
their opinion the social question is not social ; nor is it a
political question, but one of morals and religion. Hence,
the most efficient means of solving it is to change ourselves
first of all and be "born anew," as they quote from St.
John. They add : " The initial charitable act, or rather the
only charitable act, is that by which we renounce Selfishness
and undertake to obey the rule. " *

To solve the social question, they would raise up " really
good and spiritual men — saints." There are some such
men among us, they say; "but those special sources are
lost one by one in the barren sands. Unheedful society lets
them pass by, and the public spirit gains no visible profit
from them. " f Their aim is to take hold of such sources of
good and to increase them by the flow of other streams.

However, they deny the wish to propound another relig-
ion or to add one more sect to the many. " The question

* Notre Esprit, UrAon pour V actionmorale, Nov. 1, 1894.
+ Ibid., p. 12.

I -

282 Insufficiency of Moral Action and

is not to dig another haven for souls, but only to bring the
tide into the existing havens. Then communication will be
established between them." .

Indeed they cannot be suspected of bringing forth a new
religion, for they affirm no dogma; it is only a religious
state of mind, a religious tendency that they oppose to ma-
terialism and scepticism. They appeal to the members of
all churches, and to those men who are outside all churches
and yet feel the need of some support against their passions.
" Although we look upon the Faithful of all churches, who
are so in heart, as our beloved collaborators, the isolated
ones are our Benjamins — they are so forsaken!" *

In fact their call is sounded for all who suffer, morally or
materially, from the harshness of life; and their goal is the
foundation, for them and through them of a new society, a
renewed society, whose basis is to be the spirit of sacrifice,
the immolation of self and of one's passions and will, and
the love 01 one' s neighbour.

They consistently declare that " we cannot act on others
unless we have courageously adopted the life of the spirit, "f
' Kow, can the spirit of sacrifice, the immolation of self,
the love of one's neighbour, in short, the mtoral action — to
borrrow the formula of their Association, can it produce, as
they contend, the regeneration of society, the social reform?

That is the question, the whole question.

I shall probably scandalize them and a good many other
people; but I have no hesitation in replying : No! Moral
action, however useful it may be for the regeneration of the
individual, is not sufficient to produce complete social re-
generation.

And mark that I am no sceptic, but a believer, attached
to a positive form of religion, with its dogmas, and to a
Church. My judgment is therefore not influenced by an)
* Notre Esprit, p. 25. f Ibid., p. 8.

Symptoms of Social Regeneration. 283

feeling of hostility. My considerations are of a purely sci-
entific order, and if you are willing to follow me, we will
examine them forthwith.

■ II.

There is a very easy and at the same time very positive
way of clinching the matter at once. Certain privileged
epochs have produced pleiads cf saints, that is to say, of men
who are rightly considered to have attained the highest
moral development and given the greatest proofs of the
spirit of sacrifice, of self-immolation, and of the love of
one's neighbour. Some persons might be quite satisfied as
to the ultimate regeneration of our social state, if such a
special and abundant " source of good" could be again set
flowing.

Let us now see what moral action has produced in the
past.

That source has flowed abundantly — indeed there was a
perfect flood of it — dunng the first centuries of Christianity.
The very blood of thousands of martyrs flowed as freely as
the source of " moral action" itself; never was there a more
magnificent efflorescence of saints, never perhaps did man
rise higher, from a moral point of view, or in the matter of
self-sacrifice.

And yet, never was society more debased: it is the time
of the Caesars, that is to say, of one of the most abominable
regimes that ever were imposed on humanity. Never was
the art of oppression carried to such a pitch. Seldom were
human miseries and public or private vice more intense.
"Where else than among the Komans," exclaims a con-
temporary, the priest Salvian ; " where shall we find such
evils? The Franks are not so greedy, the Huns not so atro-
cious in their deeds, neither are the Vandals nor the Goths.
Even the Romans who live amougst the Barbarians do not

\:u

' '( f *'^

ll'.
\ii'

;^J ■'«

284 Insufficiency of Moral Action and

suffer such calamities : their dearest wish is to find them-
selves never again under the domination of the Empire.
Our very brothers desert our provinces to take refuge with
the Barbarians. Those who cannot transport their poor
cottages and families take the only course that is left open
for them : they give themselves to the rich — who, instead of
protecting them, only make them more unhappy."

These were no fresh evils. Lactantius had already de-
scribed them. " The fields, " he writes, " are measured even
to the last bit of turf ; the trees and vine-plants are counted ;
animals of all kinds are inscribed; every man's head is reg-
istered. The poor in their thousands are penned-up in the
cities, and the country is filled with innumerable herds of
slaves. Torture and the whip prevail everywhere. Men
are taxed for goods they do not own ; the sick, the infirm,
the very dead are inscribed as tax-payers."

Against these numberless evils hundreds and thousands
of bishops, monks, and saints, raised their voices in protes-
tation and preached with their examples. They, too, were
teachers of the moral action and of the purest morals. And
yet the social decadence was going apace, and none of these
protestations or examples delayed for a moment the final
collapse.

And the Barbarians came. And the miracle which so
many virtuous men, so many saints had been powerless to
accomplish, the Barbarians accomplished with extraordinary
facility ; unconsciously, and in spite of all their brutality,
their vices and their crimes, from them issued the modern
societies, so different from the ancient, and so superior to
them morally and socially.*

* It may be objected that the social success of the Barbarians was
due to their infusing into Roman society a simpler life, that they
were less corrupt, and therefore more accessible to moral predica-
tion. This argument collapses before the fact that the social regeu-

Symptoms of Social Regeneration. 285

Ko one will do me the injustice to think that I attribute
this miracle to Barbarian brutality, vices, and crimes. I
will explain presently the cause of that social transforma-
tion. For the present, I only state that they did what the
others had not been able to do, and I infer that they must
have brought in their trail something more powerful and
more irresistible socially than mere moral action.

Another striking example of the failure of moral action,
when otherwise unaided, is furnished by Ireland. You
know that this island was called, in the sixth century, the
"Isle of Saints." The country was teeming with monas-
teries. Indeed most of the proselytes who converted Ger-
many started from Ireland. The members of the Union for
moral action might have recruited there — had they then
been in existence — a great number of adherents: for the
great desire of a better life " swayed all minds, and the
island was a very hotbed of really good and spiritual men —
of saints!"

And their faith was no mere flash, but lasting indeed, for
Ireland is still the classic land of religious ardour.

This intensely moral life ought to have ensured Ireland
along and conspicuous social prosperity. Alas! the only
thing conspicuous in Ireland has been her lack of prosperity.

Here, again, be it understood, I do not attribute this lack
of prosperity to the religious or moral action. This would
be committing the very mistake I am trying to expose, which
consists in confounding moral with social phenomena. I
must explain myself on this point, for that is the very knot
of the question under examination.

Italy, too, in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, was

eration coincided, not with the arrival of all Barbarians, but with
that of a certain class of Barbarians, who indeed were not the sim-
plest or the poorest. Vide M. de Tourville's "Hisstoire de la forma-
tion Particulariste, " now being published iu La Science Sociale.

!i !i

/ " t;

286 Insufficiency of Moral Action and

an intense focus of moral and religious life — with such
saints as Francis o^ Assise, St. Claire, St. Anthony of
Padua, the blessed Joachim de Flora, John of Parma, Fra
Salimbue, Jacopone da Todi, St. Celestine, St. Catherine of
Sienna, etc. Then came the Franciscan and Clarissian
Orders, who were to astound the world with their obedience
and self-imposed poverty — two qualities which the adepts
of moral action hold in great honour. Do they not declare
that no social regeneration is possible " unless men are ab-
solutely detached from everything that is not strictly indis-
pensable?" They say : " Some drive in their own carriages
to th** very place where they will preach to the people the
vanity of carriages. Their own display of luxury spreads
envy around them : they are living proofs of those social
differences which they deny. . . . If we sincerely pity the
suffarings of the people, we are logically led to renounce
for ourselves everything that makes our own lives happier
or more brilliant. We cannot escape this consequence —
however hard the sacrifice I To lower what we had placed
on high, and to raise what we had despised — that is the
question. Our conversion is to be complete. . . . If we
are not resolved to go the whole length of it, shall we then
limit ourselves to moaning over human evils as impotently
as a child over any mishap?" St. Francis of Assise would
certainly have signed such a declaration with both hands.

He, too, wished " men to detach themselves from every-
thing that is not strictly indispensable." "Go!" he said,
" take no gold, no silver, nor any money. You want but
one raiment, no bag and no shoes, no staff. ..." We
know what an enthusiastic rush of disciples answered his
appeal : nine years only after the foundation of his Orders
as many as 5000 representatives of it attended the general
chapter held at Assise ; there were 7000 monasteries of the
Order—and his monks totalled the stupendous number of

Symptoms of Social Regeneration. 287

115,0001 I am leaving out tlie women's convents and the
enormous number of laymen affiliated to the Third Order.

If their appeal were heeded by such multitudes, no doubt
the adepts of moral action pure and simple would feel as-
sured of the social regeneration of France.

However, facts have demonstrated that this splendid
moral and religious revival had no more effect on media3val
Italy, from a social point of view, than the previous greater
efflorescence had had on the Roman Empire, or the sixth
century's fit of proselytism on poor Ireland. The decline
of Italy went on lamentably, amidst such political anarchy
and moral disorder as almost outstripped the decline of pagan
Borne. The renaissance, which gave to ^the world artistic
and literary masterpieces worthy of antiquity, also revived
the effeminacy and vices of imperial Rome. The action,
influence and example of mystic Italy did not prevent the
ruin of social and political Italy. Her ruin is even now
completing itself.

I will not multiply examples. History teems with them.
I will venture one last example, however.

It is fashionable to profess great admiration for the Bud-
dhist ethics. Buddhism is, indeed, full of kindliness and
pity towards the weak, the humble, and the opprensed.
But that is not the question. Has Buddhism solved the
problem of social regeneration in India and in the countries
where its influence is felt? The social inferiority of those
countiies needs no demonstration ; we need only open our
eyes to see it. The Buddhistic ethics have not raised them
any higher.

That the moral action is insufficient to raise the standard
of social life, is made plain by the very utterances of its
most impassioned adepts. Here is a passage from the mani-
festo of the Union pour faction morale, " Children are taught
at home and at school to be good as well as to be honour-

. t

. "^ ■•.

288 Insufficiency of Moral Action and

able; abnegation is made a point of honour. But it does
not follow that such teaching is practised; if it were, the
conversion of the people i;ii masse would be a very simple
affair. There are plenty of the churches, temples, or syna-
gogues, where every child is welcomed as a catechumen,
and every adult as one of the faithful. Thousands of de-
voted ministers of religion are constantly occupied in preach-
ing a better life, or exhorting to it through symbolic ser-
vices. And although the teaching of the great modern
philosophers tends to the same goal, yet the gospel is not
practised. Our consciences clearly make out and acknowl-
edge a moral ideal, but we by no means live up to it." *

This is well said. But how could the writer, even as he
wrote it, fail to perceive the weak point of unaided action?
He acknowledges that thousands of ministers of all relig-
ions and denominations — supported by the great philoso-
phers — are constantly occupied in their attempts to further
the moral regeneration of society, and that all fail in their
endeavours. " We by no means live up to our moral ideal. "

Yet, these people's plan is to employ the same methods
over again. They, who are not backed by the stupendous
power of religion, hope to be successful wherfe church, tem-
ple, and synagogue have failed 1 How did they not perceive
that if so mucL vjffort, devotion, abnegation, charity, so
much spirit of sacrifice, self-immolation, and love of one's
neighbour met with failure, surely there must be something
wrong with the method — and no one could succeed with it
alone? This natural conclusion, which would have occurred
to any unsuccessful experimentalist, ought to have occurred
to them. Moral action 1.3 insufficient to ensure a nation' s last-
ing prosperity and social greatness ; there is something else
wanting, the absence of which forbids the expected result.

What, then, is wanting? I will tell you.

* Hotre Mprit, ]p. li.

Symptoms of Social Regeneration. 289

III.

I must be allowed the use of a parable from Holy Scrip-
ture. The defenders of moral action, at least, will not re-
fuse me the permission.

Moral action may be compared to a seed, which briugeth
forth fruit if it fall into good ground, but withers away if
it fall by the wayside or upon a stony place. The quality
of the ground is all-important.

I do not pretend to be expressing any novelty. The par-
able reported in the Gospels has been applied thousands of
times by preachers, moralists, and thftologians of all creeds
and schools, until we find it almost commonplace.

Unfortunately, an error was grafted on to this most obvi-
ous truth which spoils its application ; those people assume
that the good quality of the seed is sufficient, independently
of the quality of the ground, to bring forth fruit. They
say: "There are no bad soils, there are only bad seeds."
This was next to ignoring the ground altogether; and in-
deed they write (I quote textually) : "Whethoj the present
epoch is worse than preceding epochs is of no import; the
fact cannot bo ascertained. It is, therefore, idle to trouble
about it." That is the same as saying: The nature of the
ground is insignificant.

Whereupon, they go forth tranquilly to sow their seeds
by the wayside, and upon stony places, and greatly do they
wonder that the seeds take no root but wither away, unless
indeed they swallow their wonder, and put off the germi-
nating time of their seeds until the Greek Kalends — if I
may so say . " The work is so immense that we need not
even expoct to see the beginning of its realization. This
does not alter our duty, however. Success is not our affair. " *

* Notre Esprit, p. 26.
10

290 Insufficiency of Moral Action and

But success is our affair ; it is the whole business, and we
have no other business than success. Why, do you indeed
pursue the splendid and meritorious aim of your country's
moral and social regeneration, and yet declare that its suc-
cess is no business of yours? Are you then dealing in art
for art's sake, in morals for morals' sake?

Failure (to which you make up your minds so tranquilly),
the failure ever met with by all partisans of unaided moral
action, is prv^cisely due to the fact that no heed is taken of
the nature of the ground where the seeds fall, and that it
is considered " idle " to trouble about it.

The nature of the social ground is, on the contrary, one
of the exterior conditions which exercise most influence on
the success or failure of moral action.

On this point the promoter of the Union pour V action
morale, M. Paul Desjardins, will allow me to draw an ex-
ample from his own experience. M. P^^sjardins and myself
met in Edinburgh, where we both lectured — he on the moral
action, I on social science. He then confided to me how
struck he was with the extraordinary facilities he found in
Great Britain for the furtherance of his ideas :^ " What excel-
lent ground !" he once exclaimed. Indeed, he had met with
an attentive, serious, earnest public; he had found among
them that state of mind which is most favourable to receive
and further moral action.

He was struck by the difference between this state of
mind and that which he mostly meets in France. Even
among his own followers, many merely yield to a sort of
fashion, of vogue, of infatuation which is just now felt
among the French for moral action. It is select, well-worn,
it is the last cry of fashion (cri) — if I may use for once the
lingo of these people ; in short, it is an affectation. But let
the wind of fashion change, and the people will turn to
something else, as easily as a woman will change a tight-

and

Symptoms of Social Regeneration. 291

less, and we

> you indeed
ur country's
that its suc-
laling in art

> tranquilly),
laided moral
d is taken of
, and that it

contrary, one
b influence on

pour V action
) draw an ex-
ns and myself
3 on the moral
)d to me how
!S he found in

" What excel-
! had met with

found among
able to receive

this state of
Trance. Even
L to a sort of

just now felt
ecti well-worn,
se for once the
ition. But let
Le will turn to
hange a tight-

fitting skirt for a crinoline. As for the great mass of the
public, they treat the whole movement as a huge joke — as
indeed we do with everything in France.

The seed cannot bear fruit in such shallow ground, where
there is no " deepness of earth. " Our actual social forma-
tion is an obstacle to the development of the moral action,
as it was for the Eoman society, for Ireland, Italy, and the
East, where it never brought forth the expected results.

We must, therefore, first alter the social formation if we
are to obtain any depth of result. We must begin at the
beginning.

But how is our social formation to be modified?

IV.

What, then, is wanting in our social state to fit it for the
reception and fecundation of the moral seeds which it is
contemplated to sow among us?

How do we prepare our children? What do we teach
them?

We teach them that the ideal, the supreme wisdom in
life, is to avoid as much as possible all its difficulties and
uncertainties. We tell them, " My dear child, first of all
rely upon us. You see how we save money in order to be
able, at the time of your marriage, to give you as large a
portion as possible. We are too fond of you not to do our
utmost to ease for you the difficulties of existence. Next,
rely on our relations and friends, who will exert their influ-
ence to find you some cosy berth. You must rely on the
Government, too, wiiich dispose of an innumerable quantity
of comfortable posts, perfectly safe — and salary paid regu-
larly at the end of each month ; advancement automatic,
through the mechanism of retirements and deaths. So that
you shall be able to know in advance what your emoluments

, f

292 Insufficiency of Moral Action and

are to be at such and such an age. At such another age,
too, you will retire and be entitled to a pension — a good
little pension. So, after doing very little work during your
administrative career you will be enabled to do nothing at
all at a time of life when a man is still capable of activ-
ity. But, my dear child, as these situations imply but in-
different pay (for we cannot get everything), you must
reckon on what your wife may bring you. A moneyed wife
must therefore be found ; but do not be uneasy about this,
we'll find you one. Such is, my boy, the advice which our
love dictates."

The young man who hoars such language daily at home,
in society, in the very street, not unnaturally gets accus-
tomed to the idea of relying on others more than on self ;
he is consequently disposed to shun all careers requiring
continuous exertion and mental activity ; he would never
dream of braving the uncertainties of agriculture, industry,
or commerce — and simply prepares for a tranquil existence.

Such a conception of life results in paralyzing a man's
energy and will-power; it makes him a very coward who
deliberately turns his back on the difficulties which he ought
to overcome ; he only seeks pleasure, is thorou^ly incapable
of dealing with the serious side of life, and becomes, in
fine, the very worst instrument for that moral action of
which the power of exertion and triumph over self are the
principal points.

Such is the obstacle in the way of moral action, an evil
which a purely moral remedy can do nothing to remove,
because all our social surroundings are opposed to it.
"Man must be resolved to do what is not pleasant;" our
whole social life protests against this verdict — and the
protest is so unanimous that it drowns the voices of the
reformers. ';

These surroundings are to be modified; that is the first

and

other age,
n — a good
uring your
nothing at
g of activ-
ply but in-
you must
ineyed wife
about this,
} which our

ly at home,
gets accus-
[lan on self j
:s requiring
v^ould never
:e, industry,
lil existence,
ing a man's
coward who
lich he ought
ily incapable
becomes, in
:al action of
self are the

ction, an evil
cr to remove,
)posed to it.
leasant;" our
ict— and the
voices of the

lat is the first

Symptoms of Social Regeneration. 293

thing to be done. They must be changed in the sense of
the development of individual initiative; and that is the
same as saying that our young men must be made to take
life more earnestly.

A long order! I shall be told. Well, the only short
path is that which leads to the goal — and moral action does
not lead there, as even the apostles of the movement confess.

But is that path so long as some may apprehend? No.
We shall see presently that the natural tendency of things
leads us to it irresistibly, fatally. Our whole energy should
be spent, therefore, in recognizing, in furthering, and has-
tening this movement, instead of denying or resisting and
delaying it — as we do, with the best intentions in the world,
I am sure.

What, then, are the manifestations of this movement?

The movement is made manifest by a number of symp-
toms, which I will try to note down briefly.

1st Symptom. — The contact and competition toith the Anglo-
Saxon race. We cannot avoid these. We encounter that
enterprising and encroaching race on all grounds where our
social activity is exercised. In Europe, they are at our very
gates: abroad, they are everywhere; wherever we go, in
whatever part of the world we may be attempting to found
a colony, or a mere establishment, there do we find them.
Both in Europe and out of it, we have to cope with the
competition of their agriculturists, manufacturers, and mer-
chants — and you know what redoubtable competition that is,
how energetic and tenacious, how full of practical sense and
self-reliance !

Now, this contact and this competition afford us the ad-
vantages of a stimulus ; men who find themselves in danger
of being ousted are bound to exert themselves to keep their
positions; moreover, they cannot help being influenced and
profiting by the example of their adversaries.

■ f

ii rv

294 Insufficiency of Moral Action and

It is in order to subject our young men to that wholesome
example, that we advise the students who attend our Social
Science Lectures to cross the Channel and to study in Great
Britain the causes of her superiority.

This symptom alone would hardly suffice to show the bend
of the social evolution. There are others which are directly
manifested within the nation itself.

2nd Symptom. — The unaniinously recognized failure of our
system of education. This failure is now evident to all.
The critics of our educational system are becoming daily
more numerous, more exacting; the University itself fur-
nishes a contingent of critics, some of them being even ex-
ministers of the Instruction Puhlique, all parties being
agreed to find fault with the system. It is at present
almost a common-place to say that the school has not kept
its promises. The standard of studies is going down stead-
ily. Our schools form graduates, functionaries, officials,
bureaucrats ; they do not form men capable of taking care
of themselves.

M. Lavisse is at the head of a group of University pro-
fessors who pursue the reform of education with a view to
attaining individual worth. " I remember, " he said, in the
course of a lecture on the subject, " a young Englishman
telling me once : * Do not believe me to be a learned man ;
in our English schools, we do not learn very much beyond
how to behave in life.' What splendid English pride in
this modest declaration! I do not think my visitor would
have bartered his knowledge of how to behave in life for
all our scholastic learning. He would have declined with
thanks any such exchange, and told me that England has
need of men accustomed to self-reliance, men of a bold and
independent spirit, for her commerce, her industry, and her
policy." '

It is much to be thankful for that we do recognize that

Symptoms of Social Regeneration. 295

our educational system ought to be reformed, that we are
aware that French education does not impart the " knowl-
edge of how to behave in life, " or the habit of " self-reli-
ance. " The acknowledgment of a mistake is ihe first step
towards its Tcctification.

3rd Symptom. — The developmetit of physical exercises in
youth. How we did despise physical education! The very
words were strange to us. Enough has been said of our
hateful college, with its too lengthy classes and prepara-
tions, its short recreations, devoid of real games, the monot-
onous promenading between the high, gloomy walls, then,
on Thursdays and Sundays, out of doors, the slow walking
two by two — exercise more fit for old men than for boys.

How could virility, energy^ the healthy feelings of activ-
ity and independence be developed under a regime that stunts
the body and mortifies it more than the roughest usage? A
man with good and well-trained physical organs has more
self-confidence, and is more fit to confront the difficulties of
life ; he is naturally more inclined to lead an active life than
to embrace any of the sedentary and subordinate careers of
administration ; he feels more of a man, and of course he is
a better man than the weakling.

Well, physical exercises have of late years attained some
development among us. The words sport, match, record,
record-man, etc., all of English origin, are making inroads
into our language. All our newspapers have had to open
new columns for sports of all kinds, and a large number of
sporting sheets have appeared, some of which now boast
circulations of over 10,000 copies. On some special days
as many as twenty thousand spectators gather into one or
another velodrome, and part of the eager public has to be
refused admittance. Young men thus trained are evidently
ready for an active life and capable of some initiative : they
have learned to triumph over their bodies, the best prepa-

296 Insufficiency of Moral Action and

V.'-

% ■!

ratioL for triumphing over life itself. These young men are
the hope of the country.

Ath Symptom. — The increasing overcrowding of the admiti-
istrative and liberal professions. There is a general weep-
ing and gnashing of teeth. There are twenty, fifty, a hun-
dred candidates for every vacant post; everybody wants
one. The candidates wait; they crowd the administrative
antechambers; thuy canvass for influence; their lamenta-
tions fill the air.

Meanwhile, a new opinion is gradually spreading. We
are at length finding out that the uncertainty entailed by
the candidature for offices is not worth all the trouble taken.
There is a tendency to turn to the more independent pro-
fessions, which are at the same time more lucrative. It is
as yet but a hesitating tendency, but it is bound to assert
itself; it is already doing so amongst the shrewdest and
most capable of our youth.

5th Symptom — The fall in the rate of interest on money.
From 5 per cento it fell to 4 per cent., and now we can only
get 3 per cent. The best paper even bears less interest.
Henceforth, each man must reckon less on the return of his
investments, or his wife's. It is becoming more and more
of a hardship to be content with the feeble salaries of ad-
ministrative posts, more and more difficult especially to live
as an idle rentier. This circumstance is certainly a stronger
incitement to activity a?.d self-help than all the reasoning
in the world. Inertia w ill not do in such a case. When
we can stretch economy no further, we must needs take to
action.

%th Symptom. — The extreme tension caused by the amount
of taxes to be paid. The French are the most heavily taxed
nation in Europe. They bear the burden more through
economy than by dint of hard work or of any great produc-
ing power. Indeed, agriculture, industry and commerce

Symptoms of Social Regeneration. 297

were too long eschewed by all rising fiimilies, by those very
people whose intellectual qualities and wealth would have
made the most of them. Thus the three only sources of
public prosperity have diminished year after year, until the
national resources furnished by taxation are getting less and
less assured, unless private citizens make up their minds
to turn individually their activity and capitals toward
Agriculture, Industry, and Commerce — the only producers
that feed the parasitical professions inscribed against the
Budget

1th Symptom. — The tendency ^o return to rural life and
the independent professions. This tendency is the result of
the overcrowding of the administrative functions, of the fall
in the rate of interest on money, and of the insufficiency of
the Budget. We are beginning to look with less disdain
upon those professions from which we had been estranged
by caste and other prejudice, and by a repugnance for
everything demanding initiative or responsibility. We
shall be compelled to turn to ^hese professions again through
the sheer force of circumstances.

The return to agriculture is the most conspicuous. This
is made imperative for a number of land-owners who have
had to suffer from the agricultural crisis, whose incomes
have also come down through the fall of interest on money,
or again owing to the relative scarcity of government berths.
Most of them would fain continue to live in town, but the
irresistible circumstances send them back to the country :
they end by admitting the necessity of busying themselves
-vith the working of their farms — abandoned or mismanaged
by their agents. Their next step is to make up their minds
to reside on their estates during part of the year; then they
gradually stay for longer periods, until for reasons of econ-
omy they settle in the country altogether.

The return to agriculture is made evident by the develop-

298 Insufficiency of Moral Action and

•

ment of the agricultural Press, and that of the agricultural
societies and syndicates. You know how hundreds of these
syndicates sprang into existence on all points of our terri-
tory through the initiative of the great land-owners. Many
of them only saw then in such syndicates a means of polit-
ical influence; but they are gradually getting influenced
themselves by their new surroundings and occupations : the
syndicates are becoming agricultural in reality.

On the other hand, some shrewd capitalists are taking
advantage of the fall in the value of land and purchasing
rural estates — for the diminutions in the incomes drawn
from rural property have followed the same ratio as the fall
in Stock Exchange property. 1

^th Symptom. — Encourafjem^ent to ColorAzation. The
colonizing power of a nation is the surest sign of its social
power. It betokens the spirit of initiative of its inhabi-
tants, and their forces of expansion in the world. The
Anglo-Saxon race is most remarkable in this.

We cannot consider France as having as yet displayed
any real colonizing power; our colonizing is mostly admin-
istrative : we still export more soldiers and officials than
colonists. However, there is at least a tendency to encour-
age colonization and to extol its advantages. In this aim
a certain number of societies and periodical publications
have been started; some exploring missions have ijeen
organized ; the portion of the French public interested in
geographical matters is certainly increasing. It seems as
though Frenchmen, hitherto such stay-at-homes, are becom-
ing aware that there are, outside France, countries where a
man may settle and live.

All this, I grant you, is very platonic and half-hearted as
yet; but we should not forget that the symptoms first stated
also develop further the disposition to colonization.

^th Symptom.. — The growing discredit in which politics

Symptoms of Social Regeneration. 299

tion. The

and politicians are falliyig. If the rapacity for colonization
is a sign of social power, readiness to trust too much to
politics and politicians is as sure a sign of inferiority — as
proving that the citizens rely more on the action and inter-
'^ention of the State than on their own activity, and are
iLore inclined to seek a livelihood in administrative situa-
tions and public functions than in the independent profes-
sions. What partisans relish most in polities is the distri-
bution of the spoils that follows a victory, that is to say —
the places; the spoils for the victors. This state of things
entices men away from the independent professions — the
country's vital force — and paralyzes private activity.

There are sure signs that the French are shaking off this
delusion. We are beginning to understand tint politics
have not given us all that we expected; we have been bam-
boozled OP almost all points : liberty, equality, fraternity,
inexpensive government, government of the people by the
people, diminution of taxes, toleration of all political or
religious opinions, etc. Our disappointr lent has been mani-
fested in numerous changes of Government, and in even
more numerous alterations in the Oonstitution. By this
time, we have tried almost everything — and can fairly well
see through politics.

A most significant fact is the decreasing interest displayed
on the part of the public in exclusively political newspapers.
At the epoch of the Tiestaurationy during the period that
followed the Kevolution of 1830, or even during the Second
Empire, the Political Press was a respected and much-heeded
power; a journalist then wielded enormous influence. The
most conspicuous statesmen of those days v^ere or had been
journalists. Le National, Le Globe, Le Const itiition7iel, Le
Journal des JJebats, handled opinion with the greatest ease,
and were even able to make a revolution in a few months.
There were hardly any newspapers besides the political

300 Insufficiency of Moral Action and

, 1

I' m\

• '■ w

}■ '■

M^&'

• ,

, ■--/.■p.: 1

■: !

u
M

journals, every one of which represented a distinct fraction
of public opinion.

Quantum mntata temporal Nowadays, the purely polit-
ical newspapers have lost most of their readers and nearlj'-
all their authority. Success is for " Boulevard" newspa-
pers, where politics are confined to a most limited space —
and even then considered much in the way, or for those
journals which profess to give News, simple telegraphic in-
formation, unflavoured with any expression of opinion ; or
again for technical publications treating of business, trade,
or local interests — a kind of newspaper absolutely unknot m
forty or fifty years ago.

Another sign of this discredit is to be found in the dimin-
ished consideration granted to political officials. A. func-
tionary's brow is no longer surrounded with the same halo
as of yore. Whither has passed the type of the prcfet of
the Empire — a man whom no one could approach without
awe? Where is our old French magistracy of forty years
ago — those "unappealable" magistrates, invested with an
almost sacerdotal dignity? Besides, official situations have
been found to be less safe than people imagined; they sup-
press a man's independence, and are not so well paid either!
I say nothing of the effect of such incidents as the Panama
affair, which should make the least fastidious turn from
politics with disgust. Consequently the halo that sur-
rounded the State, its ministers and officials, has become
very dim; and the fact ic not to be deplored, for whatever
is lost to the State forms a corresponding gain for the indi-
vidual, for private and for local life — and social power re-
sides in these, not in the State. So, in this direction, too,
there is progress.

10th Symptom. — The practical reaction of opinion against
militarism. The development of militarism is a great ob-
stacle to social reform; not only does it ruin the nation, but

ind

t fraction

rely polit-
iiicl nearly
nowspa-
d space —
for those
graphic in-
pinion; or
ess, trade,
T unknot m

the dimin •
A. func-
samb halo
) prcfet of
eh without
forty years
d with an
itions have

they siip-
•aid either !
le Panama
turn from

that sur-
as become
r whatever
ir the indi-
[ power re-
lation, too,

ion against
\ great ob-
aalion, but

Symptoms of Social Regeneration. 301

by sending the young men to the special schools, it keeps
them away from the useful crafts and professions. Even
unsuccessful candidates for the army are unfitted (owing to
their special education) for any independent calling requir-
ing individual energy and initiative.

But the decline of militarism is even now apparent.
None of the nations at i)resent subjected to it can btar its
enormous charges much longer. In the ])resent state of
things, the maintenance of peace is as ruinous as the most
disastrous war. Italy has been ruined by this beautiful
regimcy and is now compelled to restrict h^r armaments.
Germany and France already find it hard to bear, and can-
not continue long under it without danger to their vitality.
This argument, which rests entirely on a financial base,
answers all the reasonings of the militarists.

But even the latter join their practical testimony to the
impeachments. Their acts belie their speeches. They
know perfectly well that the young men's careers are bro-
ken, or at least made very difficult, by the prolonged
sojourn in barracks. Their greatest anxiety is to prevent
their own sons going there. They all vie with each other
in their endeavours to escape the consequences of a regime^
the necessity and advantages of which they extol in public.
Thus it is that since the passing of the last military service
law, the schools which save for their pupils two years out
of the three are besieged with candidates : the crush at the
doors is fearful. Surely there could not be a more eloquent
nor a more spontaneous protest. In the upper classes, all
fathers and mothers scheme for this end — how our boys
may escape military service — which is yet our most beauti-
ful institution! The lower classes submit to it reluctantly,
and with not unfounded jealousy at their more fortunate
betters. An institution thus deserted even by its most elo-
quent defenders is in a very bad way ikdeed. Can this

'til

302 Insufficiency of Moral Action and

militarisiu a nutranca last even as long as ourselves? I do
not think so. The financial situation and public interest
will settle the matter, if common sense does not.

Militarism is not nec^essary to enable a great country to
play her 7'6le in the world. Great Britain demonstrates the
fact by its example.

l^th Synqdovi. — TJie diminution hi the prestige of
"works,'^ of asiilstance. The aim pursued by the different
charities and the so-called institutions of "public good," is
no doubt a very lofty aim ; but the danger with them is that
people are wont to imagine that such means are sufficient to
solve the social question. They are palliatives, not reme-
dies; like morphia, they soothe but do not cure. The real
way to help the helpless is to put them in a state to help
themselves. Seeking an exclusive remedy in such " works"
is, therefore, a dangerous mistake.

Now, there is no doubt whatever that our infatuation for
such processes and our faith in the apostles who preach
them are waning fast. Their failures have been too many
and too constant. Confidence, like Credit, is dead. We
have found out the puerility of those collective attempts, so
effective in appearance, but in reality perfectly ^jowerless.
The public are beginning to realize that a manufacturer, a
rural land-owner, or any employer of labour who feels a
genuine interest in their men can do considerably better and
more useful work than fifty charitable persons could with
people on whom they have no hold whatever — with whom
they have no proper or positive connection — whom often
they do not even know.

'\2th Symptorti, — The breaking out of the socialistic doc-
trines. The different symptoms just enumerated show a
direction quite contrary to that of Socialism, since they tend
to develop individual activity and to restrict the action of the
community. The social group which is at present in advance

and

Symptoms of Social Regeneration. 303

ves? I do
)lic interest

country to
Qstrates the

prestige of
le different
ic good," is
;hem is that
sufficient to
I, not reme-
. The real
tate to help
ch " works"

atuation for
who preach
n too many

dead. We
attempts, so
T powerless,
ufacturer, a
who feels a
y better and

could with
-with whom
whom often

ialistic doc-
ited show a
36 they tend
iction of the
t in advance

of all the others, the Anglo-Saxon group, owes that advance
to the development of individual activity. Socialism is,
therefore, in contradiction with the actual march of progress.

How, then, can we explain the breaking-out of the social-
istic doctrines and recognize in it a symptom of social re-
generation?

The genesis of the phenomenon is easMy e-Jiplained.

An evolution such as that of which we have just stated
the symptoms, cannot bo accomplished without some con-
siderable friction and pain. Men were accustomed to rely
on the protection of their relatives, of their friends, of their
respective political parties, of the State; they lived in a
society based on stability more than on progress, in which
competition was limited by the difficulties in the means of
transport — facts which all tended to promote the reign of
tradition and fixity in the means of subsistence. The sud-
den development of transports and of larger manufactures,
due to til discoveries of coal, made away with all protective
barriers, and shattered the old framework that used to
uphold the individual. Each agriculturist, manufacturer,
merchant, and tradesman found himself suddenly exposed
to the competition of all the agriculturists, manufacturers,
merchants, and tradesmen in the whole world.

What happened then? Those men who were most gifted
with personal energy and individual initiative found in these
new and unavoidable conditions a magnificent scene for the
display of their qualities : they succeeded in attaining a
degree of wealth and power hitherto unknown. This was
the case with the Anglo-Saxon race, which was in advance
of other nations in the matter of individual activity. From
that time we may date the first encroachments of that race
and her splendid achievements; from that time the Anglo-
Saxons became a standing menace to the rest of the world.

On the other hand, those men who had not been trained

304 Insufficiency of Moral Action and

to personal initiative were surprised and bewildered by the
new state of things. Instead of gathering their strength
for the inevitable struggle, they found it easier to moan over
the painful necessity, and then to call to their help the old
frame-work above alluded to — relatives, friends, the State,
collectivity, according to the worn-out communistic process.
The host of stragglers, incapables, and impotents gathered
round the formula of Socialism, which is but a warmed-up
modification of that Communism which has condemned to
impotence all the nations of > he East.

Thus, in the last century, the old trades' corporations,
before receiving their death-blow from the first develop-
me,. t of tae larger manufactures, united their efforts in Oue
last attempt at resistance: they multiplied the restrictive
regulations which assured them monopoliee and protected
them against competition. Their action was of no avail,
however, and the sheer force of cir*. amstances removed for
ever those obsolete institutions.

The weak point in Socialism is that it is an anachronism,
and that it goes against the grain of circumstances, against
the forward motion of the world. All socialistic efforts
only point towards that irresistible force, and are nothing
more than a last but powerless protestation similar to that
raised by the old corporations.

The only positive result of Socialism will be to weaken
still more and finally bring down irretrievably the blind
ones who still await some chimerical saviour.

Socialism is not a thing with a future before it, but rather
a thing approaching its end.

So, whatever interpretation we place upon facts, they all
point to this conclusion — that the world (ourselves included)
is progressing towards the greater development of individual
initiative. Such is, now more t^an ever, the only means
of triumph.

Symptoms of Social Regeneration. 305

And I now ask, Does our present duty solely consist in
vaguely preaching the " moral action"? Is it not rather to
try and realize what social conditions alone can lead us to
prosperity, since moral action has been proved inadequate?
Is it not our duty, moreover, to defend and propagate the
social truths which show the way to emancipation?

Some persons may be apprehensive lest the moral action
be thus sacrificed, and smothered under the brutal touch of
Self-Help. They may be disposed to fear that man will be
thus morally lowered to a standard of pure selfishness ; they
may dread the loss of the ideal, of the spirit of sacrifice and
charity — or what not. . . .

I should like, as I end, to reassure the Reader on this
point.

It is a very remarkable, although a very natural, circum-
stance that individualistic societie& form the most favourable
centres for a moral life full of energy, intensity and resis-
tance. This is easily explained. Moral action consists in
conquering self. Now, there is no better training possible
for self -conquest than the social formation which obliges all
individuals to rely on themselves alone ; there is no training
better fitted than this for a " serious life, " none where the
spirit of " sacrifice" becomes more natural, more habitual,
and more generally applicable.

It is written : " In the sweat of thy face shalt thou e&t
bread." This sentence is not only the foundation of social
power, but also that of moral power. Nations which, by
all sorts of convenient combinations, manage to escape that
law of intense personal labour, are bound to moral depres-
sion and inferiority. Thus the Red-skin, compared with
the European; thus the Oriental, compared with the same
European; thus the Latin and German races, compared
with the Anglo-Saxons.

FRENCH PUBLISHERS' APPENDIX.

FIRST OPmiONS OF THE FRENCH PRESS.

THESE ought to be recorded here, as they explain and
justify the extraordinary success of this book, which
in two months attained its Fifth Edition.

The following extracts embrace only the period imme-
diately subsequent to its first publication (April 20th to
June 30th, 1897).

I. — Articles by M. Georges Rodenbach.

Many persons who formerly had taken an interest in the
work of Le Play, and who had not followed its development
by his successors in La Science Sociale, might have won-
dered what had become of it ; for a good many people con-
found noise and tumult with good work and progress.

Under the title, "A Book," M. G. Rodenbach, who signs
a leading article once a week in Le Figaro^ made himself an
interpT"^ter of this feeling in Le Patriate of Brussels : —

" People talk a good deal about a book which has lately
caused much sensation in France. It is entitled, *A quoi
tient la Superiority des Anglo-Saxons, ' and its author is M.
Demolins, who finds himself suddenly a most conspicuous
person. We knew the man long ago, as a quiet but inde-
fatigable worker. We met him at the house of Le Play,
the great economist, the head of La Re forme Sociahj in
that salon of the Place St. Sulpice, where the master gath-

807

I-.' \

'■%

x;y

I"?.*"';

308 French Publishers* Appendix.

ered round him every Monday night a company of choice
spirits. ...

" M. Demolins, the author <.i the sensational book of the
day, was the most assiduous and militant of these guests.
Ever on the alert, the master's favourite disciple would now
and again rouse the flagging conversation, reawaken the
slumbering hopes ; he believed in the cause, in its future,
in the doctrine, in Le Play's methods such as displayed in
his researches on the condition of European workmen. We
can remember his sanguine disposition, his evidently ex-
tensive knowledge, the ardour of his gesticulation, and his
Southern accent somewhat restrained by the practice of
science and familiarity with grave subjects.

" Since then he has been occupied in teaching his subject
and expounding it in the relative obscurity of the special
reviews. We often wondered what had become of Le
Play's favourite pupil, aud whether his superior qualities
had met with failure. Now and then, however, we heard
his name mentioned. Once we remember M. Alphonse
Daudet alluding to a curious review article, entitled, * The
Southern Frenchman in Daudet' s Novels. ' The author of
the article was named (it was M. Demolins), and nobody
seemed to know him.

"And now, behold! M. Demolins finds himself famous
suddenly, thanks to his book. This work is representative
of the scientific methods of Le Play, which, applied to a
large question of the day, assume striking relief and signifi-
cance. It is like an examination of France's conscience.
The times have been when boastfulness and self-infatuation
were but too common French qualities ; we have now some
high-minded, watchful men at work, finding out the faults
of the nation and seeking their remedies.

" M. Desjardins and his friends had already founded La
Ligue de V action 7noralef as a sequel to a clebrated pamphlet

i"r

French Publishers' Appendix. 309

(* Le Devoir present '); but that was only a sort of cold
Protestantism, of lay morals, insufficient for a Christian
nation.

" In his book M. Demolins has registered facts and com-
pared material situations. The work has nothing dogmatic
about it ; it is wholly documentary. Figures are made elo-
quent; statistics are made the pretext of reform. . . ."
(The rest of the article deals with the analysis of the book.)

The above shows that if fame came suddenly, it had been
long prepared, and that it is founded on a strong basis.

II. — Op^n 'oxs OF MM. Drumont axd Delahaye.

Immediately after publication, some journals printed a
few cursory articles. La Liberie and V Univers gave lengthy
accc-ints of the book ; La Croix, La Paix, and La Souve-
rainete published i^esumes of the book's conclusions.

All these articles were favourable — a good sign, for it
had been apprehended that the definite affirmation of Anglo-
Saxon superiority contained in the very title might rouse
the wrath of the Chauvinists. It can never be foreseen
how the Press may receive a book; and of course some
forebodings may have been entertained as to the reception
by the Press of a work that probed to the quick our social
evils.

On April 28th, M. Edouard Drumont wrote in La Libre
Parole : —

" Young men sometimes ask me what to read with profit.
To-day I would answer them, * Take up a first-class book, a
work of profound social analysis : " A quoi tient la Sup^-
riorite des Anglo-Saxons." In this book M. Demolins
studies the English temperament, seeks the secret of the
formidable expansion of that energetic and powerful race,
and shows the causes of the supremacy of a nation whose

3IO French Publishers* Appendix.

fierceness "we may condemn, but whose genius we are bound
to admire.* ..."

The next day the same paper, above the signature of M.
Jules Delahaye, consecrated a leader to this book. This
article, entitled, "Superiority des Anglo-Saxons," deserves
to be quoted.

" I have just read a book which I intend to re-read, be-
cause I found it full of interesting matter. But I would
be loth to put it aside for the present without throwing to
the April wind a few of the seeds contained in the book.

" Such is one of the duties of journalists, at a time when
the public reads hardly anything but newspapers. We
sometimes, for our own sake and that of our readers, take
up and study the books of those authors who have preserved
the wholesome habit of thinking before writing ; and so it
is our good fortune now and then to be able to introduce
into the torrent of commonplace topics a few useful and
pregnant ideas.

" There is somewhere in Paris a group of four or five
young men as inquisitive as ferrets, as hard-working as
Benedictines, who for the last ten years have provided us
with more original ideas than the host of our senators arid
deputies. Their organ is a Review, the very name of
which is unknown to the aforesaid host — with perhaps a
few honorable exceptions — but which is none the less a
mine of observations and of documents far more valuable
than the whole collection of Parliamentary debates under
the Third Republic.

" The book I am alluding to is but a selection of articles
published in La Science Sociale by its director, M. Edmond
Demolins; but these articles sum up the whole theory of
Le Play's doctrine, most felicitously applied (with a good
many extensions) to all the subjects which at the preiicnt
time evoke our patriotism. ...

French Publishers' Appendix. 311

" The originality of Demolins consists in common sense
and good faith. His successful method is to free truth
from the trammels of pi jjudice and traditional errors under
which it is buric^,, so to say, and every effort on his part
brings to light some forgotten evidence.

" Nothing more unexpected, for instance, although it is
by no means beyond the comprehension of tl*^ average
reader, than the conclusion with which he ends this very
learned, strongly-thought-out and strongly -written book:
'Why is France in decadence? Because she brings up her
children the wrong way, or rather because we go on bring-
ing them up in the same way we did two hundred years
ago, without taking into account the new difficulties of life.'

" The social question, at home and abroad, is above all a
question of education. Such fathers, such sons ; such chil-
dren, such men ; such men, such nations. These are almost
truisms, as the English say.

" Demolins himself will not find fault with me for utter-
ing them, his aim being to discover the foundations and the
laws of the social evolution; for the most evident truths
must needs be demonstrated and confirmed with the whole
apparatus of facts which constitute science. That this is
so is well proved by our author's skilful comparison of the
two systems of education — French and English — and of
their consequences in both countries on private and public
life, and in their respective policies, whether at home or
abroad. ...

" Space forbids my alluding to all or even the principal
deductions that can be drawn from the effects of what he
calls the communistic formation — our own — and the partic-
ularistic formation of the Anglo-Saxons. The best pages
in the book are perhaps to be found in the chapter, * What
Social State is most conducive to Happiness? ' v/hich I wish
I had spafje to quote. Well, the social state conducive to

iM<»i

i I
I.I

312 French Publishers* Appendix.

happiness is that of those countrier where labour and
tioQ are made bj education a pleasure and a pride, in
of a trouble and an opprobrium. The * particularistic ' for
mation of the Anglo-Saxon — such is the only cause of his
superiority ; such, too, is the future of nations. None but
foolish Chauvins can now deny it ; and Demolins rightly
says, * We should look upon the situation as men who will
be great to it, as scientific men determined to analyze it
with equal exactness, so as to discover its real factors. '

"Jules Delahaye."

The two above articles had an immediate and double
effect; first, they introduced the book to a certain portion
of the public, and then they inspired those provincial
papers which follow the lines of La Libre Parole. Several
of these papers, notably L^ Express of Boulogne-sur-Mer,
L^ Union Catholique of Kodez, Le Patriote of Pau, etc., re-
produced M. Delahaye's article. The last-named of these
papers gave a special article from th pen of the editor,
which said, " A deep, powerful, pitiless book — fit, however,
to disarm even such as are most painfully concerned by its
conclusions."

III. — Miscellaneous Articles.

Between May 1st and 14th we received more than thirty
articles on the subject of this book. It is a remarkable
fact that every article, whatever its political opinion, was
favourable. We will give a few short quotations : —

La Republique Frangaise. — " The gifted director of La
Science Sociale clearly defines one of the most alarming
questions of the present time : the extraordinary expansive
power of the Anglo-Saxon race. . . . This special superior-
ity is no novelty to us, but M. Demolins gives it a correct
and really scientific explanation."

d exer- I
instead I

French Publishers* Appendix. 313

La Cocarde ended a long article thus : " We recommend
all true patriots to read and inwardly digest this volume.
. . . We must thank M. Demolins for having written it."

Le Petit Parisien, whose article was reproduced by sev-
eral provincial papers, insisted on the necessity of educa-
tional reform, and analyzed more particularly the first book.
M. Jean Frollo, the writer of the article, concluded:
" These are correct ideas, fully adapted to the necessities of
the times."

Le Peuple Frangais expressed its warmly sympathetic
approval of " this serious, if sensational, and attractive, if
rigid, volume."

La PatXf Le PaySf La Souverainete N'ationale, Z^ Li-
beral, Le Constitutionnel, L'ICtendard published si'^^ulta-
neously a long notice by M. G. Barbdzieux on " this interest-
ing book, full of documents, which may lead us to assimi-
late the qualities of the Anglo-Saxon race."

L" Intransif/eantj La Verite^ Le National, Le Journal
agreed in their praise of the book and in recommending it
to their readers.

Thanks to this welcome of the Press, the first edition
was sold out in about a fortnight, when appeared in the
first columns of Le Figaro a first, and a week later a
second article by M. Jules Lemaitre.

anion, was

IV. — Opinion of M. Jules Lemaitre.

M. Lemaitre's talent, his rare qualities as a critic, his
influence on his public, and the enormous circulation of
Le Figaro, lend peculiar importance to his views. This
is the first article (May 14th) :

" An infinitely painful book is that of M. Demolins ; but
we must swallow the bitter cup to the dregs. The book
ought to be read.

314 French Publishers' Appendix.

" We knew — or, at. least, we suspected — the things which
M. Demolins tells us. But he makes them precise and
clear j he puts these things together, and the effect of his
work is to convince us of the social, political, commercial,
industrial, financial, and moral superiority of the Anglo-
Saxon race, and of our own weakness, our misery and in-
feriority. For the superiority of our cooks and comic play-
wrights is not calculated to save us, and it is just possible
that our artistic superiority is but a somewhat useless
luxury.

" And our plight is no temporary one ; we are fatally con-
demned. We are a nation 'of a communistic formation,'
viz. we all lean on each other ; whereas the Anglo-Saxons
are a nation of a ' particularistic formation, ' that is to say,
one where all individuals rely on self alone. And verily,
the consequences of this are terrible for us.

"How the French educational system forms function-
aries, and how the English system forms men.

"How our mode of education reduces births in France,
throufrh the necessity of providing for the establishment of
each son, and portioning each daughter; how systei^atic
sterility places temporarily on the market a great deal of
money, which is withdrawn from commerce and industry, lo
be transformed into Stock Exchange property. Whereas
the Anglo-Saxons educate their young men for the struggle
of existence, cultivate in them the taste for agricultural,
commercial, and industrial enterprise, and consequently
have no apprehension of a large number of children, added
to which, the English ho?ne life, liberal and comfortable even
among the country people and workmen, promotes indi-
vidual dignity and moral worth.

" How owing to our low propensity for officialism and
our estrangement from agriculture, industry, and commerce,
our Chambre des Ddput^s includes about 100 ex-officials, and

IX,

things which
precise and
I efifect of his
commercial,
t' the Anglo-
isery and in-
i comic play-
just possible
what useless

B fatally con-
J formation/
Lnglo-Saxons
lat is to say,
And verily,

ns function-

s in France,
blishment of
7 systei^atic
freat deal of
industry, to
'. Whereas
the struggle
agricultural,
sonsequently
dren, added
'ortable even
•motes indi-

cialism and
i commerce,
)fficials, and

French Publishers* Appendix. 315

about 300 journalists, barristers, solicitors, attorneys, phy-
sicians (surely not the pick of their professions). Whereas
in the English House of Commons the overwhelming ma-
jority of 3G0 is composed of representatives of agriculture,
industry, and commerce.

" How, finally, the English are fortunate in being almost
wholly inimical to Socialism, which threatens us, and
which is the very oldest of exploded doctrines, and the
most disastrous for individual activity and dignity.

" All this, strongly made out, will you find in M, Demo-
lins' book, with a good many other things quite as true or
likely, and quite as saddening.

" And that is why the Anglo-Saxon is bound to find him-
self master of the world before long. That is why the
Anglo-Saxon has supplanted us in North America, in India,
in Mauritius, in Egypt; . . . why he is predominant in
Europe and the whole world through his trade, industry,
and policy; why, although we do not know how he will
profit by the last Eastern war, yet we do not doubt that he
will profit moct by it ; why, in short, on the map which
heads Demolins' book, the Anglo-Saxon red tends to stain
the whole planet.

"What are we to do? Nothing easier; we have to ac-
quire the virtues we lack : will-power, self-reliance, spirit
of initiative, energy.

" What do we want?

" Parents fully convinced that they owe their children
only education, and that a manly education.

" Next, young men well aware that they will have to take
care of themselves.

" Young men determined to seek in marriage a helpmate,
not a dowry.

" A Government that will reduce to a minimum its own
functions and the number of its functionaries, and thus

3i6 French Publishers' Appendix.

1 1

i !

■^',

cause the young men to turn to the independent prof'
sions.

" Lastly, and as a consequence, a social state whe
politician and tlie sluggard shall bo less considered thi—
votary of agriculture, commerce, or industry. ...

"To be more precise, we might add that we ought to
suppress altogether the rjtudy of dead languages ; perhaps
wo ought to suppress the Universite, the £cole Pobjtech-
niquey and in general all the schools of the State; we ought
to suppress universal suffrage as well, suppress at least
three-quarters of our officials; in short, undo the admin-
istrative work of the Revolution and of the Empire.

" Personally T have no objection to any of these suppres-
sions, although there certainly are a few difficulties in the
way of their accomplishment.

" I)Ut wait; that would not be enough. Let us suppress
the budget of war, which is ruining us ; suppress military
service, which spoils our young men. We ought to be con-
tent, like England, with 100,000 men, or even with only
26,000, like the United States. Let us suppress the ma-
terial necessity of defensive measures and the morat neces-
sity of *la Revanche.^ Let us suppress our defeat, which
left us weak and made us timid.

" And even that would not be enough ; our soul, our na-
tional soul, must be changed. Can any one * oblige ' with
a good way of transforming a poor devil of a Latin or a Celt
into a fine Anglo-Saxon ogre?

" What then. May we not at least seek some consola-
tion? Is it not just possible that the author of this cruel
book may have overdrawn it a little? His parallel of the
Saxon and of the French reminds us of the good boy and of
the bad boy in children's story books: the Saxon is simply
perfection ; ive have nothing to recommend us. This rousf^s
our suspicion. Is there really no good in us? Are there,

idix.

►endent prof'

state whe
ideredthi—

jT. t I •

at we ought to
iiages; perhaps
£cole Pohjtech'
state; we ought
ppress at least
ido the admin-
Erapire.
' these suppres-
ifficulties in the

Let us suppress
ppress military
mght to be con-
even with only
ippress the ma-
he moratneces-
r defeat, which

ir soul, our na-
3 * oblige ' with
, Latin or a Celt

£ some consola-
or of this cruel
parallel of the
^ood boy and of
Saxon is simply
iS. This rousi^s
Lis? Are there,

French Publishers* Appendix. 317

for instance, no good points in the over-protective tender-
ness of French parents towards their children, in our deep
attachment to the native soil, in our notion of a fatherly
State, in our dream of social justice through the efforts of
the community, represented by the State? ISlay we not
preserve some of our poor virtues for softening in us the
stern virtues of the Anglo-Saxon — when we have got them?

"As we are of a 'communistic formation,' is it not pos-
sible to ennoble and make useful this need that is in us of
leaning on the community? And, since it is granted we
possess some generosity and a sincere love of justice, might
we not make up our minds to exert these qualities in giving
the community a little more than we receive, instead of
being content to reckon on advantages which we neither
earn nor deserve, since we gi" e in exchange the smallest
possible effort? In si. art, is there no way to rise up to
Anglo-Saxon worth through ways of our own ?

" If such hopes were granted us, we might feel some
comfort in the idea. Another source of comfort, easier and
more dangerous, would be in the consideration of what our
rivals do lack. What of that psychological paradox of the
Anglo-Saxon race whose individual virtues are great and
strong, but whose public hypocrisy is abominable, and
whose national selfishness is next to villainy? If, per-
chance, we acquired the individual strength and * virtues '
of our Northern neighbours, could we then desire to play
the same role of a nation of j)rey which England is playing
in the world? Meanwhile, if we no longer can be, as
hitherto, the knights-errant of justice and humanity, . . .

" Yet another source of comfort lies in the fact that Ger-
many, notwithstanding appearances to the contrary, is not
in much better condition than we are. The wealth which
she derives from us, the self-confidence engendered by vic-
tory, make Germany appear smart enough for a time j but

318 French Publishers' Appendix.

^ •■hI

M. Demolins assures us that she, too, is doomed to an early
death at the hands of militarism, functionarism, and
Socialism. I am afraid, however, that death will not be
so very early. If Germany were willing (and she knows
on what condition), one good means of salvation for her and
ourselves, and for others, too, v/ould be a defensive alliance,
without hatred, ^* ilie whole of Latin, Germanic, and Sla-
vonic Europe against the decidedly too voracious virtue of
the Anglo-Saxon. But the time has not come yet.

" Our hopes and consolations are but scanty. There re-
mains the necessity to look out for remedies; and there are
some. Opinion can react on manners, and opinion can be
influenced. And if opinion itself be moribund, it can be
resuscitated, re-educated. Iteration and reiteration can dj
a good deal towards this end. We may live to see such
ideas fashionable — when half the battle will be won. But
more of this in another article.

"Jules Lemaitre."

M. Lemaitre had shown courage in praising such a book
in such a newspaper as Le Figaro. He showed real '^udac-
ity by returning to the rescue a week later. His second
article was published under this title: "Opinions that
ought to spread.''*

" If I judge from the number of letters I have received
re my last article, I must have been expressing the engross-
ing thoughts of a great many earnest and clear-sighted peo-
ple. Several of my correspondents mention that they have
treated the subject in speeches, articles, or pamphlets; but
I cannot quote them all, nor make a choice. I took for my
text M. Demolins' book, because it seemed ^0 me that it
sums up with remarkable strength and continuity many

* A third article appeared in Le Figa/ro, entitled, "More Opinions
that ought to spread. "

idix.

tned to an early
tionarism, and
ath will not be
and she knows
bion for her and
ensive alliance,
nanic, and Sla-
acious virtue of
ne yet.

ity. There re-
; and there are
opinion can be
lund, it can be
teration can do
ive to see such
I be won. But

Lemaitre. "

ng such a book
ved real '^udac-
His second
Opinions that

have received
ig the engross-
ir-sighted peo-
that they have
amphlets; but
I took for my
^0 me that it
ntinuity many

" More Opiniona

French Publishers' Appendix. 319

things which I have found scattered elsewhere. I wish,
however, to name the substantial and well-informed book
of M. Max Leclerc, ' L' Education et la Societe en Angle-
terre, * another piece of cruel and useful reading.

" Some of my correspondents propose such remedies as
changing our very souls, temperaments, soil, history, and
geographical position. We cannot make France an island ;
we cannot turn France into a Protestant country (nor do I
wish it were) ; we cannot impart Anglo-Saxon muscles to
all Frenchmen; we cannot ignore our defeat of 1870. I
had mentioned these Utopian measures, and also that I did
not know how to infuse sudden health and energy into a
whole people.

"Legislative reforms are inadequate, besides being im-
practicable, unless demanded by public opinion. Public
opinion, therefore, is what is to be worked upon. Kothing
is lost as yet.

" It seems to me that French decadence differs from other
historic decadences, insomuch that it is a perfectly con-
scious decadence. I mean that we are under no delusion
about it. I am struck by the great number of excellent
spirits who discover the full extent of our moral and mate-
rial affliction. A nation's consciousness of its evils — even
the most latent — is the Tirst sign of approaching cure.

" M. Demolins writes to me : * The French mind is clearer
and more methodical than tho Anglo-Saxon mind ; and these
qualities are essential in our work as leaders and pilots of
the belated nations of the West. Our confidence ought to
be increased by the fact that the French are, from all ap-
pearances, the people that most closely resemble the Anglo-
Saxons — more, at any rate, than the Spaniards or Italians
— and, notwithstanding appearances, more than the Ger-
mans, who are 3till blessed with their Louis XIV.' Would
that I could believe such a comforting assertion !

320 French Publishers' Appendix.

" Well, there is yet something that can be done; and we
all should be doing something. After reflection, it seems
to me that there is one thing I can do, and that is to present
to my countrymen as * distinguished ' (presenting them as
merely right would be of no avail) certain ways of thinking,
and acting, . . .

" I now submit a few of these suggestions, just as they
occur to me.

" No doubt the study of dead languages and ancient liter-
atures has the eifect of elevating the mind j but this effect
is not produced on more than about a tenth of the students.
It is obviously absurd to give to all a training that can be
of benefit only to a small minority. Nine times out of ten,
a Bachelier es Lettres is an empty-headed and superficial
person — a ninny. We are told that when a man has trans-
lated, however badly, a number of fragments from Latin
and Greek authors, something of it ^ always sticks to him. '
This is not true. Nothing at all sticks to him — and we
know it. He would have profited much more by being
taught anything else, such as a manual trade, for instance.
The modern side of tuition, which has only been shyly in-
troduced among us, would soon form much better men for
the good fight of life, if we choose teachers as clever as
those we choose for the classical side.

" But the common Bachelor of Arts, who has spent eight
years of his life in failing to learn what was beautiful at a
very remote period of past history, is an absurdly consti-
tuted being, a ridiculous personage. The silly prestige of
the B. -es'L. ought to be dispelled from the minds of French
families.

"It is high time, too, that the status of officials should
be lowered in the public estimation. There really is noth-
ing very brilliant in officialdom, if we except the depart-
ment of Education, for the object of such functions digni-

one; and we
on, it seems
is to present
jing them as
of thinking,

just as they

mcient liter-
it this effect
bhe students,
that can be
58 out of ten,
d superficial
m has trans-
i from Latin
icks to him. '
im — and we
ire by being
for instance.
)en shyly in-
stter men for
as clever as

} spent eight
eautiful at a
irdly consti-
r prestige of
ds of French

cials should

ally is noth-

the depart-

ctions digni-

French Publishers* Appendix. 321

fies the conditions in which they are carried out. . . . But
fancy choosing to be a subaltern clerk in a Ministere or an
Administration ! And yet this poor destiny is that selected
for their sons by innumerable French families.

" To be content with expecting a paltry salary from the
community in return for the smallest amount of work pos-
sible, and that work more automatic and less personal than
that of any peasant or workman, through sheer apprehen-
sion of hard work and of the uncertainties of life, is perhaps
not criminal, but it is sinful and mean. Of course, the
life of a farmer or artisan is more honourable ; and, indeed,
I prefer to the Civil Service clerk even the mere counter-
jumper or small shopkeeper — both are really more active
and more independent.

" Functionaries of a higher grade, having more responsi-
bility and initiative, deserve more consideration. I know
this; but the multiplicity of half-idle officials makes the
profession a not very honourable ensemble of selfish para-
sites.

" The remedy is obvious ; reduce their number to one-
third, and give more pay, more work, and more responsi-
bility to each. But it is equally obvious that we cannot
think of doing so as long as public functions are the coin
with which our abominable deputies pay their clients.

"The least we can do is to create a prejudice against
functionarism. We can do our best to spread the opinion
that official posts are often the refuge of weaklings in mind
and body, of young men poorly gifted in courage and care-
less of their dignity and independence.

" Somebody prompts me : It might not be bad, either, to
attack the prestige of the t^cole PolytecJinique. Strange
school, that — all the pupils entering with the aim of be-
coming engineers, and three-quarters leaving as soldiers!

" Moreover, I am not aware that even those who come
21

322 French Publishers' Appendix.

out engineers do build better bridges or dykes than the
Anglo-Saxon engineers, whose training is wholly practical.
The JtJcole Pohjtechnique is undoubtedly a school that we
ought to honour, but without any superstitious excess. It
gives us too many vocationless artillerymen. We all know
some young men whom their two years of over-cramming
have ' brain-emptied ' for the rest of their natural lives.
Its purely theoretical teaching, fit for making good profes-
sors, forms but punctual, intolerant, and sterile officials out
of men who might have otherwise displayed bold and in-
ventive qualities.

" We cannot change this. But when next a father says
in your presence, 'Here is a boy whom I destine to the
Folyteclinlque,^ and you see the maman quite excited at the
elegant prospect of the sword and three-cornered hat, at
least you may forbear the expected indulgent smile.

" Further, we ought to get rid of the superstition attached
to the so-called ' liberal ' professions. Why is not agricul-
ture as liberal a profession as that of an attorney? A lib-
eral profession is just worth what its actual votary is worth.
An indifferent physician, an average barrister, a ttird-
rate litterateur, are singularly less interesting beings, and of
much less social value than — not only an intelligent manu-
facturer, but even a good farmer, a clever and honourable
tradesman, or a skilful workman, whether mechanic, car-
penter, or mason. This, again, is a truism ; yet few peo-
ple recognize it.

" Likewise, it were good to divulge the opinion that art
and literature are not professions that confer honour on
any people who choose to call themselves artists or littera-
teurs— hali of whom are actuated by mere vanity in their
choice of a profession. Moreover, no undue consideration
should be granted to unsuccessful applicants for literary
honours, for their name is Legion. Let us not scruple in

LX.

French Publishers' Appendix. 323

les than the
lly practical,
hool that we
s excess. It
We all know
er-cramming
latural lives,
good profes-
e officials out
bold and in-

a father says
estine to the
Bxcited at the
•nered hat, at
smile.

ition attached
s not agricul-
•ney? A lib-
tary is worth,
ster, a tliird-
jeings, and of
Uigent manu-
d honourable
lechanic, car-
yet few peo-

mion that art
er honour on
Lsts or littera-
mity in their
consideration
;s for literary
lot scruple in

discouraging young aspirants ; those whose talent is a fact
are sure to succeed in the end — or else may utilize that
talent under another form in whatever profession they
embrace. . . .

" There are a good many moxe opinions that ought to
spread J these will do for to-day.

"Jules LemaTtre."

The effect of these two articles on the public was as great
as might be expected : the first edition was almost immedi-
ately exhausted, and another had to be hastily issued. For
some days the publishers could not satisfy the demand of
the public, who bought hundreds of copies every day. But
the effect of the articles was as much felt in the rest of the
Press as among the public, and an extraordinary stream of
publicity set in. There was first the reproduction by a
certain number of provincial papers of the M. Lemaitre's
article. Among these were: La Depeche, La Vraie
France^ and Le Novellistej of Lille; L^ Express^ of Bou-
logne-sur-Mer ; Le Vemolien, of Verneuil; Le Journal de
Bruxelles, Le Soir, and Le Petit Beige, of Brussels, etc.

Then another flow of original articles. In La Petite Me-
publique, where M. A. GouUe signed an article entitled
" Changcons notre ame" (Let us change our souls!). One
article, in U Estafette, was entitled " SursumCorda!" The
editor of Le Journal de Rennes, M. B. Pocquet, signed an
article entitled, ''Franqais et Anglo-Saxons." It con-
cluded: "M. Demolins treats his subject with his usual
clearness and sagacity. This very remarkable book makes
us think : it does even better than this, it provokes a man-
ful resolution of giving a better direction to our lives. It
should be read by all who wish to improve the future of
our children and of our country." Le Patriate de Norman-
die began : " This book should be in the hands of all who

324 French Publishers' Appendix.

(vi I

care for our future. ..." The Gazette des Campagnes
oontributed an article entitled, "Notre Decadence." "The
fiercest light is shed by M. Demolins on the superiority of
the Anglo-Saxons. Its causes and effects are exposed by
the author with lucidity. ... A book so suggestive of se-
rious reflection should not be ignored. We shall return
to the subject more than once."

V. — Opinions op MM. L. Descaves, Francisque Sarcey

AND CORNELY.

■1>

■'1

••I
1}'

.1 h

«' is

In U Echo de Paris, May 23rd, M. Lucien Descaves
wrote, under the title " Un livre d'Alarme:" —

" Truly a terrible and admirable book : terrible, because
of its lamentable statements founded on carefully verified
documents; admirable, because of its conclusions, which,
if intelligently heeded, can only lead us to improvement.
I should like to see M. Demolins' book in the hands of all
heads of families, of all educators of our youth, if not in
those of the men who govern our country, for the author
has sufficiently demonstrated that the interest of these is
solely to keep whole as long as possible the crust of the
now rancid cheese in which they live.

" * The Present Duty' — such a book deserves the title a
good deal better than M. Desjardins' poor advice, or the
lame objur<^ation of the members of the League for Moral
Action. I warn the reader that this book is indeed a
change from the rank nonsense talked round some favourite
bock of beer in a cafe, or the high falutin' lucubrations in-
dulged in by the Ligue des Patriotes round a picture by
Detaille. Indeed, M. Demolins shows us from the very
cover of his book that our most redoubtable foe is not coiffe
with the Prussian helmet. As he himself says, ' Whilst
we pass reviews of our troops, and celebrate anniversaries

■?. 1

iix.

les Campagnes
ience." "The
superiority of
ire exposed by
ggestive of se-
e shall return

:!i8QUB Sarcey

cien Descaves

(rrible, because
ref ully verified
[usions, which,
improvement,
he hands of all
outh, if not in
for the author
rest of ^ese is
e crust of the

eves the title a

advice, or the

ague for Moral

)k is indeed a

some favourite

ucubrations in-

a picture by

from the very

foe is not coiffe

says, * Whilst

I anniversaries

French Publishers' Appendix. 325

of bygone victories, one adversary whom we ignore because
he is not armed to the teeth as we are, is furrowing the
seas undisturbed with his innume. .ible ships, and gr:idually
invading the world with his innumerable coloi.iijls.'

" The book's cover is but an illustration of this fact. . . .

" M. Fiancisque Sarcey mentioned in these columns the
comparative tables drawn by M. Demolins of the different
elements of the French Chamber, and of the English House
of Commons. That is an excellent lesson, and the book
includes a good many other object-lessons; for the author,
besides pointing out the evil of such a national representa-
tion as ours, has shown us that this was but a result of our
system of education. . . . M. Jules Lemaitre was quite
right in telling us, the other day, that we ought to begin
by * shedding our old soul ; ' and M. Demolins is quite right,
too, in helping us to do it by preaching the predominance
of the individual over the group, etc., such as observed in
England and America, instead of the intermittent and hypo-
critical solidarity preached by interested politicians and
men of party.

" I know that many people consider the substitution of
individual action for that state as a form of selfishness for
which its advantages are no apology. But Demolins rightly
remarks that there are two sides to solidarity : the assis-
tance given to our fellow-man, and the assistance which
we receive from our fellow-man. So that real selfishness
seems to be with the solidarists, as they cannot be more
anxious to secure the first satisfaction than the second.

" Neither, of course, is it impossible to reconcile the most
thorough-going altruism with absolute self-reliance.

" A book in which such all-important questions are treated
deserves to have attention called to it. It is good to know
the causes of Anglo-Saxon superiority, and we should turn
our knowledge to profit unless we want to see realized

•I:

"U !

>!li

iir

326 French Publishers' Appendix.

Proudhon's prophecy to the effect that * Europe is pregnant
with a social revolution; but she may die before being
delivered. '

"LuciEN Descaves. '

In VEcho de Paris, M. Francisque Sarcey wrote, under
the title " Anglo-Saxons and Latins :" —

" Our friend, Jules Lemaitre, has written a most brilliant
ar' icle, ^' which he endeavours to give us some idea of the
book jiv i published by M. Edmond Deraolins, S.S.D. (So-
cial c'sefu;!^ Doctor). I had just been reading the work,
and was prc^ '"iug to review it. . . .

" The book is interesting, and rich in new ideas, or rather
in renewed ideas. The author is a philosopher, and gives
advice worth digesting."

The same writer says in Le Rappel : —

" I have Demolins' book on the brain. . . . M. Demo-
lins, after exposing the lack of energy and enterprise of
our young'jr generation, puts it down to our system of edu-
cation. . . . He draws, between the English system and
our own, a parallel which is most favourable to the^ for-
mer. ..." M. Sarcey winds up by asking M. Demolins
how it is that the very same system formed in the past the
most energet'.c of men. M. Demolins answered with a
letter which he published in the June number of his re-
view, Le Science Sociale, and which there is no occasion to
reprint here.

M. Sarcey 's article was quoted and commented on in
many journals: Le XIX erne Siecle, Le Pays, La Paix. A
review. La Reforine Economique, produced an article signed
by "Un depute," and entitled "Discouraging Books."

" Economists and thinkers at large are much concerned
just now with M. Demolins' book. The author is a man of
talent, who has his subject at his fingers' ends, and is,

i||!'!

'**ii,

IX.

French Publishers' Appendix. 327

e is pregnant
before being

)esca.ve8. '

wrote, under

DQOSt brilliant
le idea of the
, S.S.D. (So-
ag the work,

leas, or rather
er, and gives

. M. Demo-
enterprise of
ystem of edu-
1 system and
e to thek for-
M. Demolins
1 the past the
vered with a
)er of his re-
10 occasion to

nented on in
La Paix. A
article signed
Books."
Lch concerned
)r is a man of
ends, and is,

moreover, possessed of a good, forcible style. With such
qualities, it is no wonder tliat tlio book has caught the
attention of the public. But the uieiit of the author and
the good qualities displayed in his work are only more rea-
sons for speaking about both. M. Demolins has made ..
mistake, and the publication of his book is to ])e lamentc *.
It belongs to the category — unduly increasing of late — of
works fit to sow discouragement in the minds of the na-
tion. ..."

However, the writer confesses that " the present supe-
riority of the English and Germans is caused by their
greater act .vity and energy of enterprise. So far we agree
with M. Demolins. "

Then, we do not see how this arti<^le ? less discouraging
than the book itself. The writer avds: "We no longer
agree with M. Demolins when he tr. es the cause of our
lack of energy and enterprise to 'ir system of education."
The writer here quotes M. Sarce^ l article, an extract of
which is printed above. We therefore only need refer the
reader to the answer published in La Science Sociale.

But in his quality of " depute, " the vriter of the article
is naturally inclined to attach undue importance to politics.
He says : " The real cause of the evil lies ii\ our politics,
not in our system of education." This is taking the effect
for the cause, as clearly demonstrated in M. Demolins'
chapter, " The Political Personnel in France and in Eng-
land."

M. Cornely committed no such mistake ; he has clearly
seen the social importance of education. His article was
published in a journal with an enormous circulation, and
in which he can appeal specially to mothers, La Mode
lllustree.

" For a long time, all those among us Avho think and who
observe, have been deploring the system of education in

1?'

328 French Publishers* Appendix.

which young Frenchmen are trained. Our friend and col-
league, M. Edmond Deraolins, has once more exposed its
dangers. Demolins rightly insists that their national
methods of education are the cause of the superiority of
the Anglo-Saxon race. ..."

VI. — Miscellaneous Articles.

It is impossible to quote all the articles with which the
Press welcomed this book.

In V Univers, M. Tavernier republished two long articles
entitled, "Anglo-Saxons and Franqais." He began thus:
" A book by Edmond Demolins is provoking much serious
reflection. It seems we are beginning to analyze ourselves
in earnest. If M. Demolins succeeds in bringing to a prac-
tical conclusion the many desultory or ironical meditations
which have been in fashion of late years, he will have ac-
complished a useful piece of work. . . . M. Demolins has
put together, after the method of Le Play, a quantity of
facts and details which explain the enormous development
of the English Empire. ..." \,

M. Marcaggi's article in UEvenement bears the title,
"Ndcessit^ d'une ^me dirigeante." "M. Demolins' book
has roused opinion. . . . Every one is now busy trying to
invent some powerful tonic to react against the ailment that
goes by the name of French decadence. ..."

Le Courier du Soir consecrates two articles to the book.
Both articles are signed " P. de B. " " M. Demolins' book
makes infinitely sad reading; it is the more impressive
because it makes clear that our evils are bound to increase
daily, unless we discontinue the practices that produce
them. . . . M. Demolins ought to be thanked for his
effort. ..."

Lq Jour fully agrees with uur conclusions : " M. Demolins

French Publishers* Appendix. 329

)nd and col-
exposed its
air national
iperiority of

h which the

long articles
began thus :
luch serious
ze ourselves
ig to a prac-
meditations
pll have ac-
emolins has
quantity of
evelopment

the title,
olins* book
3y trying to
lilment that

the book,
olins' book
impressive
to increase
at produce
id for his

. Demolins

is raising a most important question. . . . This book
courageously points out real dangers. ..."

Le National^ Le Voltaire^ Le Parisj La Petite Presse,
L'Etoiley Le Rapide^ Le Puhlicy La Nation^ La Cocarde,
Le Petit National, published simultaneously an article from
which we extract the following characteristic paragraphs :
" M. Demolins' book is causing a sensation because it comes
at the right moment. . . . The French people seem at
the present time to have realized the soft ideal of living
tied to a mother's apron-strings. We should change thu,
if we would preserve the colonial empire which we have
conquered. Such is the unpalatable but useful lesson con-
tained in M. Demolins' book."

In the provinces the newspapers still follow the example
of their Parisian contemporaries. La Bourgogne: "The
peril caused by Anglo-Saxon progress is exposed by M.
Demolins with startling lucidity. ..." Same tone in
VEclio of Chaumont, Le Patriate of Pau, the Nimes Petit
Republicain, Le Tourangeau, V Echo Tunisien, etc. We
cannot name all. From this moment the book is the topic
of the day.

VII. — M. Camille Pelletan's Opinion, and Preface

TO THE Second Edition.

In La Depechef M. C. Pelletan contributes, under the
title, "A propos d'un livre recent," one of his weekly arti-
cles, the spirit and tone of which may be realized from the
following extract: "The principal merit of this book is
that it raises some interesting questions. M. Demolins is
a pupil of Le Play; and with him, as with his master,
social science is but the dream of a learned reactionarv,
who would, under the pretext of individual initiative, or-
ganize the domination of the great landowners and of the

3 30 French Publishers* Appendix.

industrial capitalists." (Where has M. Pelletan seen this?)
"M. Demolins has a horror of Socialism and of all (!) in-
tervention on the part of the State. Nevertheless, the
author raises ideas of serious interest. . . . His compara-
tive table of the French and English Parliaments is a cu-
rious piece of work. ..."

M. Pelletan further upbraids M. Demolins for not taking
into account the actual commercial expansion of the Ger-
mans. The Preface to the Second Edition (" On the Al-
leged Superiority of the Germans") is the author's answer
to this criticism.

VIII. — The Parisian Press (June 1st to 15th).

In Le Farisien, " P. de B. " signs another article whose
sanguine spirit is shown by this conclusion : " The crisis
we are going through is therefore temporary. It is within
our power to put an end to our premature decadence. Sad-
dening as M. Demolins' study of the past is, his view of
the future is comforting, for it shows us that the regenera-
tion of the country is in the hands of all Frenchmen. We
ought to be thankful to M. Demolins for a book which ^as
caused a great stir in the Press, and hope that it may rouse
a real echo amoi.g the public."

M. de Kdrohan^ , in Le Sleil, strikes an excellent note —

" Our system of education, the excess of functionism, and
compulsory military service deaden in us 'jhe spirit of en-
t-erprise. As for our capital, those of us who are timid
invest it in safe stock or consols, whilst the venturesome
risk it on the Bourse.

" M. Demolins shows in his book that the Anglo-Saxons
are making the conquest of the world through individual
enterprise alone, unaided by private associations or by the
greater association, the State.

"We are neither reactionaries nor revolutionaries; we

French Publishers' Appendix. 331

want the French to rely n little less on the State and a good
deal more on themselves, . . . Private enterprise alone is
fruitful. ..."

Vt^clair prints a leader entitled, "We want Energy,"
by the Abb^ Victor Charbonnel : —

" In his very keen and conclusive book, M. Demolins has
just told us to be like bold, eiitorprising, energetic Anglo-
Saxons. M. Demolins is the sociologist of energy, as M.
Barr^s is the novelist of energy. I have come to think
that, after so mucii religious, moral, and p<^litical preach-

ing, M. Demolins' sermon is the best of all.

))

The

lonanes; we

abb^ concludes thus : " What we want is energy and enter-
prise, and liberty to exercise both. We, whose ideal is re-
ligious, moral, patriotic, and humane, realize that personal
energy can do it all : moral action, patriotism, and solidar-
ity. Let us, therefore, be energetic. "

In Le Matiuy M. Bousquet says : " Our manners should
be reformed — and in this the axample of England is useful.
In fact, we ought to organize the cult of personal activity
and liberty, such as prevails in England. Let us study
how a young Englishman is brought up, under what meth-
ods, and what discipline, etc. ..."

From La Croix: "... You should read carefully and
without any bias M. Demolins' masterful study. The
reader will see there why the Germans, despite their excel-
lent qualities, are inferior in the work of colonization. . . .•"'

Le Voltaire and La Nation^ in an article published simul-
taneously, under the title "L'Education et La Vie," take
1 le authority of the book to demand the reformation of our
system of education. " In his book, M. Demolins has
raisvid an alarming problem of social pedagogy. Much dis-
cussion has thus been created, and we are glad of it. His
conclusions are unimpeachable ; indeed, they are idf tical
with our own utterances for the last ten ears. . . . '

-If

332 French Publishers' Appendix.

La Radical takes the same point of view: "... The
book has caused a great stir. . . . M. Demolins tells us
some disagreeable truths."

M. Jules Lemaitre, as we stated before, published in Le
Figaro a third article, where, in his usual acute and origi-
nal style, he reviews some of the conclusions of the book.

IX. — Opinions of MM. Paul Bourget, Marcel PrS-
vosT, AND Francois CoppSe.

In La Fiffaroj M. Paul Bourget, noting his impression
of the Jubilee of Queen Victoria, wrote : —

"... No excitement, no gossiping in that crowd. . . .
For a Parisian, the most striking circumstance is that ab-
sence of cafesj which does not allow of any lingering in the
open air. . . . The English street is just used for walking
from one place of business to another, not as a sort of open
club where people meet and talk. . . .

" ' Business as usual. ' This notice was to be seen every-
where, and showed the constant care to waste no time.
Such is their i)erpetual method — which goes far to explahi
she curious complexity of English ideas. Even in the
midst of their enthusiasm, their practical spirit does not
leave them, and allows them to profit by any advantage
that may present itself. ..."

After recalling the principal traits in the life of the
Queen — "that Windsor widow who governs half the globe"
— M. Bourget concludes: "... What may I add that has
not been already fe!t by most of my countrymen, whether
in assisting at, or in reading of, that impressive ceremony?
I can only repeat: When we find that a rival people is
very great indeed, we should not envy them — that would be
unworthy of us ; we should not deny their greatness — that
would be of no avail j we should not copy them — that would

". . . The
ins tells us

lished in Le
3 and origi-
E the book.

IRCEL pRfi-

i impression

5rowd. . . .
I is that ab-
[ering in the
for walking
sort of open

seen every-

[te no time.

|r to explain

ven in the

it does not

advantage

llife of the
the globe"
Id that has

m, whether
ceremony?
people is
it would be
[ness — that
Ithat would

French Publishers' Appendix. 333

be servile ; we should endeavour to find out what laws of
a political nature they have observed in order to achieve
such development, and when we have done so, we should
try to practise those laws according to our own traditions
and temperament. I cannot end better than by advising
all good Frenchmen to read, and get others to read, that
book of M. Demolins, which Jules Lemaitre has twice rec-
ommended in these columns. In the light of the present
fetesj the pages of that free and sincere study will assume
even more lucidity, and we shall see clearly many of the
things which we may with advantage borrow from the Eng-
lish, and which may enable us to cope successfully with
their rivalry. One thing that we may learn from them is
ansv^erable for much of their strength, and that is Civic
Duty."

M. Marcel Prdvost's article in Le Journal is entitled
"Notre Pays."

"... Are we to end this century hand in hand with the
Anglo-Saxons? And since such voluminous, well-written
books as M. Demolins' demonstrate for us the superiority
of that race over ours, are we in the end to accept our role
as an inferior race by availing ourselves of their examples,
and imitating their educational system? . . . It is no easy
task to establish any dispassionate comparison between our
own country and another. Even a rigid economist like M.
Demolins, or an extreme intellectualist such as Jules Le-
maitre may adjust as best they can — the former the gold
spectacles of the savant, the latter the eyeglass of the hu-
morist ; neither can help, as soon as their country is con-
cerned, looking at things with the eyes of the patriot. ..."

M. Prdvost acknowledges that the spirit of enterprise is
paralyzed at home, although the exterior situation is better.
He adds : " . . . Contrarily to the Rose of Sharon's, the
blackness of France is all inward. The evil with us is in-

334 French Publishers' Appendix.

ward. Our warners are not mistaken, and all men of com'
mon sense will agree with them ; but their means of regen-
eration are really too oddly interpreted. We cannot go one
step without coming across a man who, hypnotized by
Demolins' book, declares that we must be placed under the
Anglo-Saxon regimen or die. ..."

What, then, is to be done? M. Provost concludes that
our manners ought to be altered ; and especially our insti-
tutions, first of all our system of succession and our ruinous
administrative organization.

In the same paper, a few days later, M. Francois Coppde
wrote anent the Jubilee: "... After these fetes, in which
the national strength of our neighbours was so strikingly
manifested, we cannot help thinking of the interior strug-
gles which exhaust our vitality and the exterior dangers
^hat threaten us — and I shuddered whilst wondering
whether in my own Latin veins there does not flow the poi-
son of decadence."

X. — Another Articlk by M. Edouard Drumont.

In La Libre Parole, M. Edouard Drumont has returned
several times to the subject. He now (June 21st) devotes
to it another article, again in praise of the book and its
author, but concludes in an unforeseen manner. He chooses
the title, "Are the English Superior to us?"

"... The brutal glory in which England is now flour-
ishing inspires psychological and social studies, and such
first-class works of analysis as M. Demolins' book. . . .

" If the English trample us underfoot, that is not because
they are English, but because we are no longer ourselves.
. . . England is governed by statesmen, ^ve are really gov-
erned by the Jews and cosmopolitans, of whom our states-
men are but the flunkeys.

LX.

men of com*
ans of regen-
jaiinot go one
ypnotized by
ced under the

oncludes that
ally our insti-
d our ruinous

anqois Copp^e
fetes, in which
so strikingly
interior strug-
berior dangers
st wondering
it flow the poi-

Drumont.

has returned

21st) devotes

book and its

He chooses

is now flour-
lies, and such
book. . . .
is not because
rer ourselves,
ire really gov-
ern, our states-

French Publishers' Appendix. 335

" Such is the truth, which men of incontestable merit,
like M. Demolins, will not see, and especially will not say.
To say so, indeed, would be schokinfj (sic), and contrary to
all the traditions of the institutes. (M. Drumont forgets
that M. Demolins has not precisely flattered either public
opinion or the institutes, and that if he deserves any re-
proach, it is not that of having lacked courage.)

" . . . M. Demolins will grant me that a country which,
like ours, has so often given proofs of elasticity, may yet
have another awakening ; there may come out of the bosom
of the nation . . . some Anti-Semites, some representa-
tives of traditional ideas, who lawfully and after a regular
trial, may bring about the execution of a few notable cos-
mopolitans, guilty of actual treason. . . .

" After reading the admirable book of M. Demolins, we
cannot help agreeing with its author's views, as M. Jules
Lemaitre has done, with just a shade of his habitual irony,
and we can but acknowledge that the * particularistic for-
mation * is much preferable to the ' communistic formation ;^
we must acknowledge, too, that the Anglo-Saxon educa-
tional system is better than our own — and we are thus grad-
ually drawn to the conclusion that the Anglo-Saxons are
superior to us. . . .

" The thesis would be more correct, however, if the An-
glo-Saxon race had always enjoyed its present preponder-
ance. Historically, such is not the case. ..."

And M. Drumont concludes with the statement that
France would yet be saved if we could get hold of " a great
minister, such as we had so many of in the past. "

XI. — The Parisian Press (June 15th to 30th) .

During this period it becomes impossible to follow the
Press. We receive as many as fifteen articles daily.
The writers of some articles despair of the regeneration

336 French Publishers' Appendix

i'^

I'-

II*
ifi

lilt

of France. Thus, Le Faris ends: ". . We often ie v
we know of no remedy, so that w»^,, tho acseerdants 01 uiie
Fonteuoy soldiers, are disposed lo thus idi'^-o.^s Messieurs
les Anglais : * Morituri vos salutant. ' " Suc>: is the tone of
Le Rapide^ V Estafette^ Le Petit National, etc.

Other journals turn the matter into a joke, like Le Tin-
tamarre (which devotes to the author a " tintJimarresque"
piece of poetry), Le Grelot, Le Courier Franf'aisj etc.

The colonial newspapers are naturally most favourable in
their motives. La Depeche Coloniale is quite representa-
tive.

"M. Edmond Demolins has just given his countrymen
a lesson of a novel character. He has been courageous
enough to recognize English superioiity in certain points
without, however, taking advantage of che occasion for call-
ing them filibusters and brigands j on the contrary, he ad-
vises us to imitate them. Truly this k;i .(^ of patriotism is
refreshing. ...

" M. Demolins has just worked out on a large scale a
study which every one who has lived in our colonies has
dreamt to accomplish locally : Why is England successful
with her colonies, whilst we can get nothing out of oiirs?

" Indeed, it is a rule without exception : all our colonies
are a source of exp'.iis to France; all the English colonies
are a source of lo^ euue to England. ..."

Le Petit Moniteur Universel, in an article by M. Jean
de Montalougt, reviews jointly M. Demolins' book and one
by the latter' s friend and collaborator, M. Paul deRousiers,
"Le Trade-Unionisme en Angleterre," which he justly
praises.

" . . . A cruel problem is offered by M. Demolins ; . . .
but the book comes at the right time, . . . Let us praise
M. Demolins for his courage. . . . May he succeed in fix-
ing public attention on the question of Education I"

lix

French Publishers* Appendix. 337

We often iev

3rdants 01 oiie

:3,.g Messieurs

: is the tone of

itc.

), like £e Tin-

ntJimarresque"

f«i5, etc.

; favourable in

Lte representd-

is countrymen
len courageous
certain points
casion for call-
»ntrary, he ad-
i patriotism is

large scale a
colonies has
tj,nd successful
out of oiirs?
11 our colonies
iglish colonies

e by M. Jean
book and one
il de Kousiers,
ich he justly

amolins; . . .
Let us praise
succeed in fix-
tionl"

XII. — The pKovii^ciAL FiiESS.

We musfc be brief here, for all the principal pr< .incial
papers have noticed the book favourably — some ver}
warmly. A characteristic circumstance is that all politiv^j^l
shades of opinion concur in their expressions of approval—
a fact which seems to indicate that social science is neutral
ground, broad enough to contain all men of good will.

Le Radical of Marseilles, the Orleans Journal dii Loiret,
the St. Brieuc Democrate, the Arras Avenir published si-
multaneously the following : " . . . M. Demolins has raised
an alarming problem of social pedagogy. Much discussion
has been thus created, and we are glad of it. His conclu-
sions are imimpeachable ; indeed, they are identical with
our own utterances for the last ten years. . . .''

L'Avenir de la Vienne of Poitiers, the Nantes Pojndaire,
Le Petit Meridional of jMontpellier, published an article by
M. Arsene Alexandre : " . . . The new crusade has been
inspired by M. Demolins' book. . . . Quite right of M.
Demolins to wake us up by showing us the contrast of our
own sloth and England's unceashig activity. ..."

M. Jean de Vaulx signs an excellent article mi ' otU
VAvenir de V Ome (Alengon) and Le Journal de Aiajie
(Laon).

Sympathy is also expressed in La T'ibune liejmhlicaiae
of Nevers, La Chronique Picarde, ad JJ' Esperance do
Nancy .•"... M. Demolins' book should be perused by
all earnest men who still resist the specious lies on which
the majority of the country is fed.'' This article, entitled,
" Notre Decadence, " is reproduced by Xe Courrier des Alj^es.
Let us also mention articles in La Vigie de Dieppe, Tou-
louse Messaqer, VEre Nouvelle of Cognac, Le Journal de
Rennesy and Le Tourangeau. The article in Le Touraw
22

338 French Publishers' Appendix.

M:-i

geau is entitled, " Un livre h. lire" (A book worth reading),
and is signed by the editor, M. Louis Dubois.

The Paris Patriote prints the letter of M. Demolins to
M. Sarcej', and reports a lecture at Pau on the subject of
the book.

More articles come to hand from Havre, Dunkerque,
Lyons {La France Libre and Lyon Repuhlicain) ^ Le Patriote
de Normandie, Le Progres of Nantes, etc. The book is
doing its tour de France.

XIII. — The Foueign Press.

It seems also in the way of doing its tour du monde.

Among foreign newspapers printed in French, Le Lor'
rain of Metz says : " . . . M. Demolins sounds the alarm
with terrible clearness.

"... A book so suggestive of serious thought should
not be ignored."

Le Bien Public of Gand reproduces the Preface and Con-
tents, and expresses -nreserved approval. Le Patriote of
Brussels favourably reviews the book. La Tribune de
Geneve and La Gazette de Lausanne publish the same arti-
cle, and review at length " the teachings of this remarkable
book." The Geneva Semaine Litteralre insists on the de-
sirability of diminishing functionarism in France.

The Italia of Kome publishes a long and elaborate article
on the book "of that profound observer who shows the
effects of strongly established causes." The Osservatore
Cvltolico also approves of "?<?i bcl libro del Demolins.^^
Alao ■■.he Madrid Imparcial, the Frankfurter Zeitung, the
Egyptian Gazette of Alexandria; the latter reviews in
great detail "this most remarkable book." Le Journal
E^yptien of Cairo has a long favourable article entitled " M.
DojacUns' Book." The Budapesti Hirlapf etc.

th reading),

Demolins to
le subject of

Dunkerque,
, Le Patriate
The book is

t, monde.
ach, Le Lor'
is the alarm

)ught should

ace and Con-
e Patriate of
Tribune de
18 same arti-
s remarkable
s on the de-
ice.

3orate article

o shows the

O.sservatore

Demolins. "

Zeitunff, the

reviews in

Le Journal

3ntitled " M.

French Publishers* Appendix. 339

XIV. — The Reviews.

The notices of the reviews necessarily appear much later
than those of the newspapers. However, a score of them
came to hand in the course of June. We will only report
the most interesting articles.

La Revue Bleue cannot be said to have no opinion of tho
book; indeed, the same number of this review expresses
two distinct views in two articles separated by only a few
pages.

The first, by M. Jacques Porcher, is entitled "La Fa-
mille bourgeoise; les p^res et les fils." The writer, who
is in complete community of ideas with M. Demolins, de-
plores the effects of our system of education, and con-
cludes : " . . . We must develop the will-power and spirit
of enterprise in our children. We should allow them a
larger share of independence. . . . Let us be deceived no
longer by our superstitious regard for the administrative
careers. . . . The character must be trained," etc. In
support of his contentions, the writer quotes extracts from
"the interesting and documentary book of M. Demolins."

The second article is M. Maurice Spronck's "Franqais
et Anglais d'apr^s un livre rdcent."

"... We were talking about the book just published by
M. Demolins. Somebody said, * I was much interested in
re.^ding this book, and I do not deny its merits; but upon
the whole there is no science less precise or more empiric
than political economy or sociology. And there are no sa-
vants more dogmatic or more religiously fond of intangible
axioms than your economists or sociologists. . . . ' "

M. Spronck ends thus: "Although we may profit by
many of the ingenious views of M. Demolins, yet we shall
do wisely in taking the whole book cum grano salis. " Well,

■■'^*t!5^HHwiiHBb*R'\^*'** ''irtAi!

340 French Publishers* Appendix

the public shall judge — or, rather, the public has delivered
its judgment, not in the sense indicated by M. Spronck.

La Revue des Revues goes with public opinion. " . . . This
book is attracting a great deal of attention, and this is but
just. The author's text is the acknowledged fact of Anglo-
Saxon superiority, the causes of which he has undertaken
to discover ; and he has an almost absolute right to say that
he has succeeded in doing so. At any rate, he has actually
shown us the principal causes j and his deductions are so
perfectly logical that any refutation of them appears at
present to be singularly difficult. . . . M. Demolins' thesis
gives us little comfort, but alas ! it is likely enough to be
the truth. It is for us to see whether we are capable of
the energy necessary for regeneration."

La Nouvelle Revue ; " . . . This thesis is most carefully
developed, and supported by numerous arguments. ..."

L^ Illustration also approves: "... Very clear, very
frank, and at times very interesting. . . . M. Demolins
demonstrates his thesis with much skill and sincerity, and
especially with a warmth of patriotism which alone places
his book above the Anglo-maniac professions of faith of
official economists. . . . No one but will endorse his wish
to see those methods imported into France which may in-
stil more energy and more healthy activity into our youth."

From M. Henri Mazel, in La Critique .•"... All French-
men, even litterateurs — and especially litterateurs — ought
to read it. Of course, the superiority in question is purely
material and geographical;; but a politico- social superiority
is not without moment for men of art and science, consid-
ering that there is a strange but certain connection between
a country's temporal and spiritual greatness. ..." After
a rapid review of the work, M. Mazel expresses his regret
that M. Demolins should not have thought fit to develop
the psychological side of Anglo-Saxon superiority.

French Publishers' Appendix. 341

las delivered
Spronck.

. . This
id this is but
act of Anglo-
,s undertaken
ht to say that
) has actually
ctions are so
n appears at
nolins* thesis
enough to be
ce capable of

acst carefully
lents. . . .
r clear, very
M. Demolins
lincerity, and

alone places
8 of faith of
orse his wish
hich may in-
our youth."
All French-
iteurs — ought

ion is purely
il superiority

euce, consid-

tion between
." After

BS his regret
t to develop

dty. \

"Les Annales politiques et littdraires" of M. Adolphe
Brisson reproduce in extenso the chapter^ " How are we to
bring up our Children?" preceding with this: "This work
is creating a great stir. We offer a suggestion for the con-
sideration of our readers." In the same number M. Bris-
son reviews the whole work. The following passage will
furnish the note of this 'ixcellent article : —

" The public is taking a lively interest just now in the
problems tackled by * modern science.' M. Demolins' sub-
stantial book, which has caused much discussion in scien-
tific circles, would probably have been ignored by the pub-
lic had not M. Jules Lemaitre thought fit to point out its
merits. This time the public were greatly moved. It was
thought that the question must be a very serious one which
exercised the minds of so many distinguished people — and
so the agitation spread. For the last month it has been
the fashion in Paris to extol the practical genius of the
English and Americans. ...

" It is desirable that the younger generation may be free
from our miserable prejudices. Our duty is to show the
way — and this duty is brilliantly accomplished by such
books as those of M. Demolins and M. Hugues Le
Roux. . . .

" Of course, there is a shade of parti-pris in M. Demo-
lins' book. But if the author was not impassioned for
his thesis, he would not be so powerful in his treatment
of it. . . ."

La France Exterieurey organ of the Dupleix Committee,
contains this mention from the pen of its editor, M. Arthur
Maillet : —

"... I felt absolute delight in reading M. Demolins'
book. Our system of education is attacked with equal en-
ergy and justice. The author eloquently exposes our deep-
est sore — that is to say, the curse of f unctionarism, which

\ I

342 French Publishers' Appendix.

luins both our Budget and our characters. In a fcrthcom-
ing article T intend to review the book — certainly the most
useful piece of work that has been attempted for many a
long day. ... It marks an epoch in our social history."

Les EtudeSy organ of the Jesuits, in an article from the
pen of the Right Rev. Father Prelate on the Jubilee:
" . . . You have not only gazed on the cover, you have
also turned the pages of M. Demolins* instructive book ; a
* painful book, ' M. Jules Lemaitre called it — ay ! as painful
to us as it must be gratifying for our neighbours. It comes
just in time for the Royal Jubilee, without having been
ordered for the event, and will only be the better appre-
ciated. You know the thesis. ..."

Le Correspondant : " This book is well worth studying ;
it defines one of the most interesting questions of the pres-
ent time. ..."

We should quote extracts from La Vie Contemporaine^
V Ei,ho de la Semaine (which printed two articles), from
U Enseignement Secondaire, etc. But this Appendix is
already too long. The extracts furnished will suffice to
impart a correct idea of the opinions expressed on this book,
which, up to the present, has provoked more than three
hundred articles.

P.S. — Whilst this Appendix was in the press, there ap-
peared fifty or more articles, which testify to the increasing
interest created by this book at home and abroad.

In V^claivy M. Emile Bergerat calls M. Demolins " a
shrewd sociologist;" La Republique Frangaise says, "This
book ought to be read and pondered over."

We ought to make special mention of an altogether re-
markable article in Le Journal de Geneve, by its director,
M. Marc Debrit : " This is a beautiful and a good book,
wholesome and manly, and one that makes us think — also
full of couraga ... A work of research directed to find-

French Publishers' Appendix. 343

, fcrthcom-
y the most
for many a
history."
3 from the
e Jubilee:
•, you have
ve book ; a
as painful
It comes
aving been
tter appre-

1 studying;
of the pres-

temporahie,
Lcles), from
ppendix is
1 suffice to
a this book,
than three

!, there ap-
B increasing
d.

►emolins " a
jays, " This

ogether re-
ts director,
good book,
}hink — also
ted to find-

ing the secret of Anglo-Saxon strength . . . written by
a learned economist, pupil of Le Play, perfectly well-
informed, and gifted enough to know how to rise above
national prejudices and the ready-made opinions which are
the fashion of the day. ..."

This article was reproduced by Le Journal de St. Peters-
bourg.

Lastly, in Le TempSy the eminent literary critic, M. Gas-
ton Deschamps, devotes his weekly feuilleton to M. Demo-
lins, "whose intellectual evolution," he says, "is worth
telling." At the same time he notes the progress of M.
Demolins' Review, La Science Sociale.

We will only give a short extract, as representative of
the article: "M. Demolins, whose name has been filling
the newspapers for the last few weeks, has been in no hurry
for the wind to fan into flame the interior fire that animated
him. For years and years he worked in comparative ob-
scurity. His ideas have been patiently incubated. And
now he is emerging from his chiaroscuro with a book that is
apparently an ardent torch, for a large number of his con-
temporaries are lighting their own candles at it, and even
burning their lingers in doing so. . . .

" What I like in Demolins is that his ideas have taken
possession of his life. . . .

" His severe scolding can only end in public good. It is
a pleasure to hear that gruff voice suddenly interrupting
our gossiping, and calling our attention away from the bur-
lesque amusements — * so Parisian, you know! ' — which we
have raised to such an absurd cult. Indeed, we must make
up our minds to heed the * killjoys,' if we don't want to
have to do — and that very soon — with the Official Eeceiver. "

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