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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: A Modern Utopia + +Author: H. G. Wells + +Release Date: September, 2004 [EBook #6424] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on December 10, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MODERN UTOPIA *** + + + + +Produced by Andrew Sly + + + + + +</pre> +<h1 align="center">A MODERN UTOPIA<br> + BY H. G. WELLS</h1> + +<hr> + +<h3 align="center">A NOTE TO THE READER</h3> + +<p>This book is in all probability the last of a series of +writings, of which—disregarding certain earlier disconnected +essays—my <i>Anticipations</i> was the beginning. Originally I +intended <i>Anticipations</i> to be my sole digression from my art +or trade (or what you will) of an imaginative writer. I wrote that +book in order to clear up the muddle in my own mind about +innumerable social and political questions, questions I could not +keep out of my work, which it distressed me to touch upon in a +stupid haphazard way, and which no one, so far as I knew, had +handled in a manner to satisfy my needs. But <i>Anticipations</i> +did not achieve its end. I have a slow constructive hesitating sort +of mind, and when I emerged from that undertaking I found I had +still most of my questions to state and solve. In <i>Mankind in the +Making</i>, therefore, I tried to review the social organisation in +a different way, to consider it as an educational process instead +of dealing with it as a thing with a future history, and if I made +this second book even less satisfactory from a literary standpoint +than the former (and this is my opinion), I blundered, I think, +more edifyingly—at least from the point of view of my own +instruction. I ventured upon several themes with a greater +frankness than I had used in <i>Anticipations</i>, and came out of +that second effort guilty of much rash writing, but with a +considerable development of formed opinion. In many matters I had +shaped out at last a certain personal certitude, upon which I feel +I shall go for the rest of my days. In this present book I have +tried to settle accounts with a number of issues left over or +opened up by its two predecessors, to correct them in some +particulars, and to give the general picture of a <i>Utopia</i> +that has grown up in my mind during the course of these +speculations as a state of affairs at once possible and more +desirable than the world in which I live. But this book has brought +me back to imaginative writing again. In its two predecessors the +treatment of social organisation had been purely objective; here my +intention has been a little wider and deeper, in that I have tried +to present not simply an ideal, but an ideal in reaction with two +personalities. Moreover, since this may be the last book of the +kind I shall ever publish, I have written into it as well as I can +the heretical metaphysical scepticism upon which all my thinking +rests, and I have inserted certain sections reflecting upon the +established methods of sociological and economic science....</p> + +<p>The last four words will not attract the butterfly reader, I +know. I have done my best to make the whole of this book as lucid +and entertaining as its matter permits, because I want it read by +as many people as possible, but I do not promise anything but rage +and confusion to him who proposes to glance through my pages just +to see if I agree with him, or to begin in the middle, or to read +without a constantly alert attention. If you are not already a +little interested and open-minded with regard to social and +political questions, and a little exercised in self-examination, +you will find neither interest nor pleasure here. If your mind is +“made up” upon such issues your time will be wasted on these pages. +And even if you are a willing reader you may require a little +patience for the peculiar method I have this time adopted.</p> + +<p>That method assumes an air of haphazard, but it is not so +careless as it seems. I believe it to be—even now that I am +through with the book—the best way to a sort of lucid vagueness +which has always been my intention in this matter. I tried over +several beginnings of a Utopian book before I adopted this. I +rejected from the outset the form of the argumentative essay, the +form which appeals most readily to what is called the “serious” +reader, the reader who is often no more than the solemnly impatient +parasite of great questions. He likes everything in hard, heavy +lines, black and white, yes and no, because he does not understand +how much there is that cannot be presented at all in that way; +wherever there is any effect of obliquity, of incommensurables, +wherever there is any levity or humour or difficulty of multiplex +presentation, he refuses attention. Mentally he seems to be built +up upon an invincible assumption that the Spirit of Creation cannot +count beyond two, he deals only in alternatives. Such readers I +have resolved not to attempt to please here. Even if I presented +all my tri-clinic crystals as systems of cubes―! Indeed I felt +it would not be worth doing. But having rejected the “serious” +essay as a form, I was still greatly exercised, I spent some +vacillating months, over the scheme of this book. I tried first a +recognised method of viewing questions from divergent points that +has always attracted me and which I have never succeeded in using, +the discussion novel, after the fashion of Peacock's (and Mr. +Mallock's) development of the ancient dialogue; but this encumbered +me with unnecessary characters and the inevitable complication of +intrigue among them, and I abandoned it. After that I tried to cast +the thing into a shape resembling a little the double personality +of Boswell's Johnson, a sort of interplay between monologue and +commentator; but that too, although it got nearer to the quality I +sought, finally failed. Then I hesitated over what one might call +“hard narrative.” It will be evident to the experienced reader that +by omitting certain speculative and metaphysical elements and by +elaborating incident, this book might have been reduced to a +straightforward story. But I did not want to omit as much on this +occasion. I do not see why I should always pander to the vulgar +appetite for stark stories. And in short, I made it this. I explain +all this in order to make it clear to the reader that, however +queer this book appears at the first examination, it is the outcome +of trial and deliberation, it is intended to be as it is. I am +aiming throughout at a sort of shot-silk texture between +philosophical discussion on the one hand and imaginative narrative +on the other.</p> + +<p>H. G. WELLS.</p> + +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> + +<ul> +<li>The Owner of the Voice</li> +<li>Chapter the First—Topographical</li> +<li>Chapter the Second—Concerning Freedoms</li> +<li>Chapter the Third—Utopian Economics</li> +<li>Chapter the Fourth—The Voice of Nature</li> +<li>Chapter the Fifth—Failure in a Modern Utopia</li> +<li>Chapter the Sixth—Women in a Modern Utopia</li> +<li>Chapter the Seventh—A Few Utopian Impressions</li> +<li>Chapter the Eighth—My Utopian Self</li> +<li>Chapter the Ninth—The Samurai</li> +<li>Chapter the Tenth—Race in Utopia</li> +<li>Chapter the Eleventh—The Bubble Bursts</li> +<li>Appendix—Scepticism of the Instrument</li> +</ul> + +<h1 align="center">A MODERN UTOPIA</h1> + +<h3 align="center">THE OWNER OF THE VOICE</h3> + +<p><i>There are works, and this is one of them, that are best begun +with a portrait of the author. And here, indeed, because of a very +natural misunderstanding this is the only course to take. +Throughout these papers sounds a note, a distinctive and personal +note, a note that tends at times towards stridency; and all that is +not, as these words are, in Italics, is in one Voice. Now, this +Voice, and this is the peculiarity of the matter, is not to be +taken as the Voice of the ostensible author who fathers these +pages. You have to clear your mind of any preconceptions in that +respect. The Owner of the Voice you must figure to yourself as a +whitish plump man, a little under the middle size and age, with +such blue eyes as many Irishmen have, and agile in his movements +and with a slight tonsorial baldness—a penny might cover it—of +the crown. His front is convex. He droops at times like most of us, +but for the greater part he bears himself as valiantly as a +sparrow. Occasionally his hand flies out with a fluttering gesture +of illustration. And his Voice (which is our medium henceforth) is +an unattractive tenor that becomes at times aggressive. Him you +must imagine as sitting at a table reading a manuscript about +Utopias, a manuscript he holds in two hands that are just a little +fat at the wrist. The curtain rises upon him so. But afterwards, if +the devices of this declining art of literature prevail, you will +go with him through curious and interesting experiences. Yet, ever +and again, you will find him back at that little table, the +manuscript in his hand, and the expansion of his ratiocinations +about Utopia conscientiously resumed. The entertainment before you +is neither the set drama of the work of fiction you are accustomed +to read, nor the set lecturing of the essay you are accustomed to +evade, but a hybrid of these two. If you figure this owner of the +Voice as sitting, a little nervously, a little modestly, on a +stage, with table, glass of water and all complete, and myself as +the intrusive chairman insisting with a bland ruthlessness upon his +“few words” of introduction before he recedes into the wings, and +if furthermore you figure a sheet behind our friend on which moving +pictures intermittently appear, and if finally you suppose his +subject to be the story of the adventure of his soul among Utopian +inquiries, you will be prepared for some at least of the +difficulties of this unworthy but unusual work.</i></p> + +<p><i>But over against this writer here presented, there is also +another earthly person in the book, who gathers himself together +into a distinct personality only after a preliminary complication +with the reader. This person is spoken of as the botanist, and he +is a leaner, rather taller, graver and much less garrulous man. His +face is weakly handsome and done in tones of grey, he is fairish +and grey-eyed, and you would suspect him of dyspepsia. It is a +justifiable suspicion. Men of this type, the chairman remarks with +a sudden intrusion of exposition, are romantic with a shadow of +meanness, they seek at once to conceal and shape their sensuous +cravings beneath egregious sentimentalities, they get into mighty +tangles and troubles with women, and he has had his troubles. You +will hear of them, for that is the quality of his type. He gets no +personal expression in this book, the Voice is always that other's, +but you gather much of the matter and something of the manner of +his interpolations from the asides and the tenour of the +Voice.</i></p> + +<p><i>So much by way of portraiture is necessary to present the +explorers of the Modern Utopia, which will unfold itself as a +background to these two enquiring figures. The image of a +cinematograph entertainment is the one to grasp. There will be an +effect of these two people going to and fro in front of the circle +of a rather defective lantern, which sometimes jams and sometimes +gets out of focus, but which does occasionally succeed in +displaying on a screen a momentary moving picture of Utopian +conditions. Occasionally the picture goes out altogether, the Voice +argues and argues, and the footlights return, and then you find +yourself listening again to the rather too plump little man at his +table laboriously enunciating propositions, upon whom the curtain +rises now.</i></p> + +<h3 align="center">CHAPTER THE FIRST<br> +Topographical</h3> + +<h4 align="center">§ 1</h4> + +<p>The Utopia of a modern dreamer must needs differ in one +fundamental aspect from the Nowheres and Utopias men planned before +Darwin quickened the thought of the world. Those were all perfect +and static States, a balance of happiness won for ever against the +forces of unrest and disorder that inhere in things. One beheld a +healthy and simple generation enjoying the fruits of the earth in +an atmosphere of virtue and happiness, to be followed by other +virtuous, happy, and entirely similar generations, until the Gods +grew weary. Change and development were dammed back by invincible +dams for ever. But the Modern Utopia must be not static but +kinetic, must shape not as a permanent state but as a hopeful +stage, leading to a long ascent of stages. Nowadays we do not +resist and overcome the great stream of things, but rather float +upon it. We build now not citadels, but ships of state. For one +ordered arrangement of citizens rejoicing in an equality of +happiness safe and assured to them and their children for ever, we +have to plan “a flexible common compromise, in which a perpetually +novel succession of individualities may converge most effectually +upon a comprehensive onward development.” That is the first, most +generalised difference between a Utopia based upon modern +conceptions and all the Utopias that were written in the former +time.</p> + +<p>Our business here is to be Utopian, to make vivid and credible, +if we can, first this facet and then that, of an imaginary whole +and happy world. Our deliberate intention is to be not, indeed, +impossible, but most distinctly impracticable, by every scale that +reaches only between to-day and to-morrow. We are to turn our backs +for a space upon the insistent examination of the thing that is, +and face towards the freer air, the ampler spaces of the thing that +perhaps might be, to the projection of a State or city “worth +while,” to designing upon the sheet of our imaginations the picture +of a life conceivably possible, and yet better worth living than +our own. That is our present enterprise. We are going to lay down +certain necessary starting propositions, and then we shall proceed +to explore the sort of world these propositions give us....</p> + +<p>It is no doubt an optimistic enterprise. But it is good for +awhile to be free from the carping note that must needs be audible +when we discuss our present imperfections, to release ourselves +from practical difficulties and the tangle of ways and means. It is +good to stop by the track for a space, put aside the knapsack, wipe +the brows, and talk a little of the upper slopes of the mountain we +think we are climbing, would but the trees let us see it.</p> + +<p>There is to be no inquiry here of policy and method. This is to +be a holiday from politics and movements and methods. But for all +that, we must needs define certain limitations. Were we free to +have our untrammelled desire, I suppose we should follow Morris to +his Nowhere, we should change the nature of man and the nature of +things together; we should make the whole race wise, tolerant, +noble, perfect—wave our hands to a splendid anarchy, every man +doing as it pleases him, and none pleased to do evil, in a world as +good in its essential nature, as ripe and sunny, as the world +before the Fall. But that golden age, that perfect world, comes out +into the possibilities of space and time. In space and time the +pervading Will to Live sustains for evermore a perpetuity of +aggressions. Our proposal here is upon a more practical plane at +least than that. We are to restrict ourselves first to the +limitations of human possibility as we know them in the men and +women of this world to-day, and then to all the inhumanity, all the +insubordination of nature. We are to shape our state in a world of +uncertain seasons, sudden catastrophes, antagonistic diseases, and +inimical beasts and vermin, out of men and women with like +passions, like uncertainties of mood and desire to our own. And, +moreover, we are going to accept this world of conflict, to adopt +no attitude of renunciation towards it, to face it in no ascetic +spirit, but in the mood of the Western peoples, whose purpose is to +survive and overcome. So much we adopt in common with those who +deal not in Utopias, but in the world of Here and Now.</p> + +<p>Certain liberties, however, following the best Utopian +precedents, we may take with existing fact. We assume that the tone +of public thought may be entirely different from what it is in the +present world. We permit ourselves a free hand with the mental +conflict of life, within the possibilities of the human mind as we +know it. We permit ourselves also a free hand with all the +apparatus of existence that man has, so to speak, made for himself, +with houses, roads, clothing, canals, machinery, with laws, +boundaries, conventions, and traditions, with schools, with +literature and religious organisation, with creeds and customs, +with everything, in fact, that it lies within man's power to alter. +That, indeed, is the cardinal assumption of all Utopian +speculations old and new; the Republic and Laws of Plato, and +More's Utopia, Howells' implicit Altruria, and Bellamy's future +Boston, Comte's great Western Republic, Hertzka's Freeland, Cabet's +Icaria, and Campanella's City of the Sun, are built, just as we +shall build, upon that, upon the hypothesis of the complete +emancipation of a community of men from tradition, from habits, +from legal bonds, and that subtler servitude possessions entail. +And much of the essential value of all such speculations lies in +this assumption of emancipation, lies in that regard towards human +freedom, in the undying interest of the human power of self-escape, +the power to resist the causation of the past, and to evade, +initiate, endeavour, and overcome.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 2</h4> + +<p>There are very definite artistic limitations also.</p> + +<p>There must always be a certain effect of hardness and thinness +about Utopian speculations. Their common fault is to be +comprehensively jejune. That which is the blood and warmth and +reality of life is largely absent; there are no individualities, +but only generalised people. In almost every Utopia—except, +perhaps, Morris's “News from Nowhere”—one sees handsome but +characterless buildings, symmetrical and perfect cultivations, and +a multitude of people, healthy, happy, beautifully dressed, but +without any personal distinction whatever. Too often the prospect +resembles the key to one of those large pictures of coronations, +royal weddings, parliaments, conferences, and gatherings so popular +in Victorian times, in which, instead of a face, each figure bears +a neat oval with its index number legibly inscribed. This burthens +us with an incurable effect of unreality, and I do not see how it +is altogether to be escaped. It is a disadvantage that has to be +accepted. Whatever institution has existed or exists, however +irrational, however preposterous, has, by virtue of its contact +with individualities, an effect of realness and rightness no +untried thing may share. It has ripened, it has been christened +with blood, it has been stained and mellowed by handling, it has +been rounded and dented to the softened contours that we associate +with life; it has been salted, maybe, in a brine of tears. But the +thing that is merely proposed, the thing that is merely suggested, +however rational, however necessary, seems strange and inhuman in +its clear, hard, uncompromising lines, its unqualified angles and +surfaces.</p> + +<p>There is no help for it, there it is! The Master suffers with +the last and least of his successors. For all the humanity he wins +to, through his dramatic device of dialogue, I doubt if anyone has +ever been warmed to desire himself a citizen in the Republic of +Plato; I doubt if anyone could stand a month of the relentless +publicity of virtue planned by More.... No one wants to live in any +community of intercourse really, save for the sake of the +individualities he would meet there. The fertilising conflict of +individualities is the ultimate meaning of the personal life, and +all our Utopias no more than schemes for bettering that interplay. +At least, that is how life shapes itself more and more to modern +perceptions. Until you bring in individualities, nothing comes into +being, and a Universe ceases when you shiver the mirror of the +least of individual minds.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 3</h4> + +<p>No less than a planet will serve the purpose of a modern Utopia. +Time was when a mountain valley or an island seemed to promise +sufficient isolation for a polity to maintain itself intact from +outward force; the Republic of Plato stood armed ready for +defensive war, and the New Atlantis and the Utopia of More in +theory, like China and Japan through many centuries of effectual +practice, held themselves isolated from intruders. Such late +instances as Butler's satirical “Erewhon,” and Mr. Stead's queendom +of inverted sexual conditions in Central Africa, found the Tibetan +method of slaughtering the inquiring visitor a simple, sufficient +rule. But the whole trend of modern thought is against the +permanence of any such enclosures. We are acutely aware nowadays +that, however subtly contrived a State may be, outside your +boundary lines the epidemic, the breeding barbarian or the economic +power, will gather its strength to overcome you. The swift march of +invention is all for the invader. Now, perhaps you might still +guard a rocky coast or a narrow pass; but what of that near +to-morrow when the flying machine soars overhead, free to descend +at this point or that? A state powerful enough to keep isolated +under modern conditions would be powerful enough to rule the world, +would be, indeed, if not actively ruling, yet passively acquiescent +in all other human organisations, and so responsible for them +altogether. World-state, therefore, it must be.</p> + +<p>That leaves no room for a modern Utopia in Central Africa, or in +South America, or round about the pole, those last refuges of +ideality. The floating isle of <i>La Cité Morellyste</i> no +longer avails. We need a planet. Lord Erskine, the author of a +Utopia (“Armata”) that might have been inspired by Mr. Hewins, was +the first of all Utopists to perceive this—he joined his twin +planets pole to pole by a sort of umbilical cord. But the modern +imagination, obsessed by physics, must travel further than +that.</p> + +<p>Out beyond Sirius, far in the deeps of space, beyond the flight +of a cannon-ball flying for a billion years, beyond the range of +unaided vision, blazes the star that is <i>our</i> Utopia's sun. To +those who know where to look, with a good opera-glass aiding good +eyes, it and three fellows that seem in a cluster with it—though +they are incredible billions of miles nearer—make just the +faintest speck of light. About it go planets, even as our planets, +but weaving a different fate, and in its place among them is +Utopia, with its sister mate, the Moon. It is a planet like our +planet, the same continents, the same islands, the same oceans and +seas, another Fuji-Yama is beautiful there dominating another +Yokohama—and another Matterhorn overlooks the icy disorder of +another Theodule. It is so like our planet that a terrestrial +botanist might find his every species there, even to the meanest +pondweed or the remotest Alpine blossom....</p> + +<p>Only when he had gathered that last and turned about to find his +inn again, perhaps he would not find his inn!</p> + +<p>Suppose now that two of us were actually to turn about in just +that fashion. Two, I think, for to face a strange planet, even +though it be a wholly civilised one, without some other familiar +backing, dashes the courage overmuch. Suppose that we were indeed +so translated even as we stood. You figure us upon some high pass +in the Alps, and though I—being one easily made giddy by +stooping—am no botanist myself, if my companion were to have a +specimen tin under his arm—so long as it is not painted that +abominable popular Swiss apple green—I would make it no occasion +for quarrel! We have tramped and botanised and come to a rest, and, +sitting among rocks, we have eaten our lunch and finished our +bottle of Yvorne, and fallen into a talk of Utopias, and said such +things as I have been saying. I could figure it myself upon that +little neck of the Lucendro Pass, upon the shoulder of the Piz +Lucendro, for there once I lunched and talked very pleasantly, and +we are looking down upon the Val Bedretto, and Villa and Fontana +and Airolo try to hide from us under the mountain +side—three-quarters of a mile they are vertically below. +(<i>Lantern</i>.) With that absurd nearness of effect one gets in +the Alps, we see the little train a dozen miles away, running down +the Biaschina to Italy, and the Lukmanier Pass beyond Piora left of +us, and the San Giacomo right, mere footpaths under our +feet....</p> + +<p>And behold! in the twinkling of an eye we are in that other +world!</p> + +<p>We should scarcely note the change. Not a cloud would have gone +from the sky. It might be the remote town below would take a +different air, and my companion the botanist, with his educated +observation, might almost see as much, and the train, perhaps, +would be gone out of the picture, and the embanked straightness of +the Ticino in the Ambri-Piotta meadows—that might be altered, but +that would be all the visible change. Yet I have an idea that in +some obscure manner we should come to feel at once a difference in +things.</p> + +<p>The botanist's glance would, under a subtle attraction, float +back to Airolo. “It's queer,” he would say quite idly, “but I never +noticed that building there to the right before.”</p> + +<p>“Which building?”</p> + +<p>“That to the right—with a queer sort of thing―”</p> + +<p>“I see now. Yes. Yes, it's certainly an odd-looking affair.... +And big, you know! Handsome! I wonder―”</p> + +<p>That would interrupt our Utopian speculations. We should both +discover that the little towns below had changed—but how, we +should not have marked them well enough to know. It would be +indefinable, a change in the quality of their grouping, a change in +the quality of their remote, small shapes.</p> + +<p>I should flick a few crumbs from my knee, perhaps. “It's odd,” I +should say, for the tenth or eleventh time, with a motion to rise, +and we should get up and stretch ourselves, and, still a little +puzzled, turn our faces towards the path that clambers down over +the tumbled rocks and runs round by the still clear lake and down +towards the Hospice of St. Gotthard—if perchance we could still +find that path.</p> + +<p>Long before we got to that, before even we got to the great high +road, we should have hints from the stone cabin in the nape of the +pass—it would be gone or wonderfully changed—from the very goats +upon the rocks, from the little hut by the rough bridge of stone, +that a mighty difference had come to the world of men.</p> + +<p>And presently, amazed and amazing, we should happen on a man—no +Swiss—dressed in unfamiliar clothing and speaking an unfamiliar +speech....</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 4</h4> + +<p>Before nightfall we should be drenched in wonders, but still we +should have wonder left for the thing my companion, with his +scientific training, would no doubt be the first to see. He would +glance up, with that proprietary eye of the man who knows his +constellations down to the little Greek letters. I imagine his +exclamation. He would at first doubt his eyes. I should inquire the +cause of his consternation, and it would be hard to explain. He +would ask me with a certain singularity of manner for “Orion,” and +I should not find him; for the Great Bear, and it would have +vanished. “Where?” I should ask, and “where?” seeking among that +scattered starriness, and slowly I should acquire the wonder that +possessed him.</p> + +<p>Then, for the first time, perhaps, we should realise from this +unfamiliar heaven that not the world had changed, but +ourselves—that we had come into the uttermost deeps of space.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 5</h4> + +<p>We need suppose no linguistic impediments to intercourse. The +whole world will surely have a common language, that is quite +elementarily Utopian, and since we are free of the trammels of +convincing story-telling, we may suppose that language to be +sufficiently our own to understand. Indeed, should we be in Utopia +at all, if we could not talk to everyone? That accursed bar of +language, that hostile inscription in the foreigner's eyes, “deaf +and dumb to you, sir, and so—your enemy,” is the very first of the +defects and complications one has fled the earth to escape.</p> + +<p>But what sort of language would we have the world speak, if we +were told the miracle of Babel was presently to be reversed?</p> + +<p>If I may take a daring image, a mediæval liberty, I would +suppose that in this lonely place the Spirit of Creation spoke to +us on this matter. “You are wise men,” that Spirit might say—and +I, being a suspicious, touchy, over-earnest man for all my +predisposition to plumpness, would instantly scent the irony (while +my companion, I fancy, might even plume himself), “and to beget +your wisdom is chiefly why the world was made. You are so good as +to propose an acceleration of that tedious multitudinous evolution +upon which I am engaged. I gather, a universal tongue would serve +you there. While I sit here among these mountains—I have been +filing away at them for this last aeon or so, just to attract your +hotels, you know—will you be so kind―? A few hints―?”</p> + +<p>Then the Spirit of Creation might transiently smile, a smile +that would be like the passing of a cloud. All the mountain +wilderness about us would be radiantly lit. (You know those swift +moments, when warmth and brightness drift by, in lonely and +desolate places.)</p> + +<p>Yet, after all, why should two men be smiled into apathy by the +Infinite? Here we are, with our knobby little heads, our eyes and +hands and feet and stout hearts, and if not us or ours, still the +endless multitudes about us and in our loins are to come at last to +the World State and a greater fellowship and the universal tongue. +Let us to the extent of our ability, if not answer that question, +at any rate try to think ourselves within sight of the best thing +possible. That, after all, is our purpose, to imagine our best and +strive for it, and it is a worse folly and a worse sin than +presumption, to abandon striving because the best of all our bests +looks mean amidst the suns.</p> + +<p>Now you as a botanist would, I suppose, incline to something as +they say, “<i>scientific</i>.” You wince under that most offensive +epithet—and I am able to give you my intelligent sympathy—though +“pseudo-scientific” and “quasi-scientific” are worse by far for the +skin. You would begin to talk of scientific languages, of +Esperanto, La Langue Bleue, New Latin, Volapuk, and Lord Lytton, of +the philosophical language of Archbishop Whateley, Lady Welby's +work upon Significs and the like. You would tell me of the +remarkable precisions, the encyclopædic quality of chemical +terminology, and at the word terminology I should insinuate a +comment on that eminent American biologist, Professor Mark Baldwin, +who has carried the language biological to such heights of +expressive clearness as to be triumphantly and invincibly +unreadable. (Which foreshadows the line of my defence.)</p> + +<p>You make your ideal clear, a scientific language you demand, +without ambiguity, as precise as mathematical formulæ, and with +every term in relations of exact logical consistency with every +other. It will be a language with all the inflexions of verbs and +nouns regular and all its constructions inevitable, each word +clearly distinguishable from every other word in sound as well as +spelling.</p> + +<p>That, at any rate, is the sort of thing one hears demanded, and +if only because the demand rests upon implications that reach far +beyond the region of language, it is worth considering here. It +implies, indeed, almost everything that we are endeavouring to +repudiate in this particular work. It implies that the whole +intellectual basis of mankind is established, that the rules of +logic, the systems of counting and measurement, the general +categories and schemes of resemblance and difference, are +established for the human mind for ever—blank Comte-ism, in fact, +of the blankest description. But, indeed, the science of logic and +the whole framework of philosophical thought men have kept since +the days of Plato and Aristotle, has no more essential permanence +as a final expression of the human mind, than the Scottish Longer +Catechism. Amidst the welter of modern thought, a philosophy long +lost to men rises again into being, like some blind and almost +formless embryo, that must presently develop sight, and form, and +power, a philosophy in which this assumption is denied. [Footnote: +The serious reader may refer at leisure to Sidgwick's <i>Use of +Words in Reasoning</i> (particularly), and to Bosanquet's +<i>Essentials of Logic</i>, Bradley's <i>Principles of Logic</i>, +and Sigwart's <i>Logik</i>; the lighter minded may read and mark +the temper of Professor Case in the British Encyclopædia, +article <i>Logic</i> (Vol. XXX.). I have appended to his book a +rude sketch of a philosophy upon new lines, originally read by me +to the Oxford Phil. Soc. in 1903.]</p> + +<p>All through this Utopian excursion, I must warn you, you shall +feel the thrust and disturbance of that insurgent movement. In the +reiterated use of “Unique,” you will, as it were, get the gleam of +its integument; in the insistence upon individuality, and the +individual difference as the significance of life, you will feel +the texture of its shaping body. Nothing endures, nothing is +precise and certain (except the mind of a pedant), perfection is +the mere repudiation of that ineluctable marginal inexactitude +which is the mysterious inmost quality of Being. Being, +indeed!—there is no being, but a universal becoming of +individualities, and Plato turned his back on truth when he turned +towards his museum of specific ideals. Heraclitus, that lost and +misinterpreted giant, may perhaps be coming to his own....</p> + +<p>There is no abiding thing in what we know. We change from weaker +to stronger lights, and each more powerful light pierces our +hitherto opaque foundations and reveals fresh and different +opacities below. We can never foretell which of our seemingly +assured fundamentals the next change will not affect. What folly, +then, to dream of mapping out our minds in however general terms, +of providing for the endless mysteries of the future a terminology +and an idiom! We follow the vein, we mine and accumulate our +treasure, but who can tell which way the vein may trend? Language +is the nourishment of the thought of man, that serves only as it +undergoes metabolism, and becomes thought and lives, and in its +very living passes away. You scientific people, with your fancy of +a terrible exactitude in language, of indestructible foundations +built, as that Wordsworthian doggerel on the title-page of +<i>Nature</i> says, “for aye,” are marvellously without +imagination!</p> + +<p>The language of Utopia will no doubt be one and indivisible; all +mankind will, in the measure of their individual differences in +quality, be brought into the same phase, into a common resonance of +thought, but the language they will speak will still be a living +tongue, an animated system of imperfections, which every individual +man will infinitesimally modify. Through the universal freedom of +exchange and movement, the developing change in its general spirit +will be a world-wide change; that is the quality of its +universality. I fancy it will be a coalesced language, a synthesis +of many. Such a language as English is a coalesced language; it is +a coalescence of Anglo-Saxon and Norman French and Scholar's Latin, +welded into one speech more ample and more powerful and beautiful +than either. The Utopian tongue might well present a more spacious +coalescence, and hold in the frame of such an uninflected or +slightly inflected idiom as English already presents, a profuse +vocabulary into which have been cast a dozen once separate tongues, +superposed and then welded together through bilingual and +trilingual compromises. [Footnote: <i>Vide</i> an excellent +article, <i>La Langue Française en l'an 2003</i>, par Leon +Bollack, in <i>La Revue</i>, 15 Juillet, 1903.] In the past +ingenious men have speculated on the inquiry, “Which language will +survive?” The question was badly put. I think now that this wedding +and survival of several in a common offspring is a far more +probable thing.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 6</h4> + +<p>This talk of languages, however, is a digression. We were on our +way along the faint path that runs round the rim of the Lake of +Lucendro, and we were just upon the point of coming upon our first +Utopian man. He was, I said, no Swiss. Yet he would have been a +Swiss on mother Earth, and here he would have the same face, with +some difference, maybe, in the expression; the same physique, +though a little better developed, perhaps—the same complexion. He +would have different habits, different traditions, different +knowledge, different ideas, different clothing, and different +appliances, but, except for all that, he would be the same man. We +very distinctly provided at the outset that the modern Utopia must +have people inherently the same as those in the world.</p> + +<p>There is more, perhaps, in that than appears at the first +suggestion.</p> + +<p>That proposition gives one characteristic difference between a +modern Utopia and almost all its predecessors. It is to be a world +Utopia, we have agreed, no less; and so we must needs face the fact +that we are to have differences of race. Even the lower class of +Plato's Republic was not specifically of different race. But this +is a Utopia as wide as Christian charity, and white and black, +brown, red and yellow, all tints of skin, all types of body and +character, will be there. How we are to adjust their differences is +a master question, and the matter is not even to be opened in this +chapter. It will need a whole chapter even to glance at its issues. +But here we underline that stipulation; every race of this planet +earth is to be found in the strictest parallelism there, in numbers +the same—only, as I say, with an entirely different set of +traditions, ideals, ideas, and purposes, and so moving under those +different skies to an altogether different destiny.</p> + +<p>There follows a curious development of this to anyone clearly +impressed by the uniqueness and the unique significance of +individualities. Races are no hard and fast things, no crowd of +identically similar persons, but massed sub-races, and tribes and +families, each after its kind unique, and these again are +clusterings of still smaller uniques and so down to each several +person. So that our first convention works out to this, that not +only is every earthly mountain, river, plant, and beast in that +parallel planet beyond Sirius also, but every man, woman, and child +alive has a Utopian parallel. From now onward, of course, the fates +of these two planets will diverge, men will die here whom wisdom +will save there, and perhaps conversely here we shall save men; +children will be born to them and not to us, to us and not to them, +but this, this moment of reading, is the starting moment, and for +the first and last occasion the populations of our planets are +abreast.</p> + +<p>We must in these days make some such supposition. The +alternative is a Utopia of dolls in the likeness of +angels—imaginary laws to fit incredible people, an unattractive +undertaking.</p> + +<p>For example, we must assume there is a man such as I might have +been, better informed, better disciplined, better employed, thinner +and more active—and I wonder what he is doing!—and you, Sir or +Madam, are in duplicate also, and all the men and women that you +know and I. I doubt if we shall meet our doubles, or if it would be +pleasant for us to do so; but as we come down from these lonely +mountains to the roads and houses and living places of the Utopian +world-state, we shall certainly find, here and there, faces that +will remind us singularly of those who have lived under our +eyes.</p> + +<p>There are some you never wish to meet again, you say, and some, +I gather, you do. “And One―!”</p> + +<p>It is strange, but this figure of the botanist will not keep in +place. It sprang up between us, dear reader, as a passing +illustrative invention. I do not know what put him into my head, +and for the moment, it fell in with my humour for a space to foist +the man's personality upon you as yours and call you +scientific—that most abusive word. But here he is, indisputably, +with me in Utopia, and lapsing from our high speculative theme into +halting but intimate confidences. He declares he has not come to +Utopia to meet again with his sorrows.</p> + +<p>What sorrows?</p> + +<p>I protest, even warmly, that neither he nor his sorrows were in +my intention.</p> + +<p>He is a man, I should think, of thirty-nine, a man whose life +has been neither tragedy nor a joyous adventure, a man with one of +those faces that have gained interest rather than force or nobility +from their commerce with life. He is something refined, with some +knowledge, perhaps, of the minor pains and all the civil +self-controls; he has read more than he has suffered, and suffered +rather than done. He regards me with his blue-grey eye, from which +all interest in this Utopia has faded.</p> + +<p>“It is a trouble,” he says, “that has come into my life only for +a month or so—at least acutely again. I thought it was all over. +There was someone―”</p> + +<p>It is an amazing story to hear upon a mountain crest in Utopia, +this Hampstead affair, this story of a Frognal heart. “Frognal,” he +says, is the place where they met, and it summons to my memory the +word on a board at the corner of a flint-dressed new road, an +estate development road, with a vista of villas up a hill. He had +known her before he got his professorship, and neither her “people” +nor his—he speaks that detestable middle-class dialect in which +aunts and things with money and the right of intervention are +called “people”!—approved of the affair. “She was, I think, rather +easily swayed,” he says. “But that's not fair to her, perhaps. She +thought too much of others. If they seemed distressed, or if they +seemed to think a course right―” ...</p> + +<p>Have I come to Utopia to hear this sort of thing?</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 7</h4> + +<p>It is necessary to turn the botanist's thoughts into a worthier +channel. It is necessary to override these modest regrets, this +intrusive, petty love story. Does he realise this is indeed Utopia? +Turn your mind, I insist, to this Utopia of mine, and leave these +earthly troubles to their proper planet. Do you realise just where +the propositions necessary to a modern Utopia are taking us? +Everyone on earth will have to be here;—themselves, but with a +difference. Somewhere here in this world is, for example, Mr. +Chamberlain, and the King is here (no doubt <i>incognito</i>), and +all the Royal Academy, and Sandow, and Mr. Arnold White.</p> + +<p>But these famous names do not appeal to him.</p> + +<p>My mind goes from this prominent and typical personage to that, +and for a time I forget my companion. I am distracted by the +curious side issues this general proposition trails after it. There +will be so-and-so, and so-and-so. The name and figure of Mr. +Roosevelt jerks into focus, and obliterates an attempt to +acclimatise the Emperor of the Germans. What, for instance, will +Utopia do with Mr. Roosevelt? There drifts across my inner vision +the image of a strenuous struggle with Utopian constables, the +voice that has thrilled terrestrial millions in eloquent protest. +The writ of arrest, drifting loose in the conflict, comes to my +feet; I impale the scrap of paper, and read—but can it +be?—“attempted disorganisation?... incitements to disarrange?... +the balance of population?”</p> + +<p>The trend of my logic for once has led us into a facetious +alley. One might indeed keep in this key, and write an agreeable +little Utopia, that like the holy families of the mediæval +artists (or Michael Angelo's Last Judgement) should compliment +one's friends in various degrees. Or one might embark upon a +speculative treatment of the entire <i>Almanach de Gotha</i>, +something on the lines of Epistemon's vision of the damned great, +when</p> + +<blockquote>“Xerxes was a crier of mustard.<br> +Romulus was a salter and a patcher of patterns....”</blockquote> + +<p>That incomparable catalogue! That incomparable catalogue! +Inspired by the Muse of Parody, we might go on to the pages of +“Who's Who,” and even, with an eye to the obdurate republic, to +“Who's Who in America,” and make the most delightful and extensive +arrangements. Now where shall we put this most excellent man? And +this?...</p> + +<p>But, indeed, it is doubtful if we shall meet any of these +doubles during our Utopian journey, or know them when we meet them. +I doubt if anyone will be making the best of both these worlds. The +great men in this still unexplored Utopia may be but village +Hampdens in our own, and earthly goatherds and obscure illiterates +sit here in the seats of the mighty.</p> + +<p>That again opens agreeable vistas left of us and right.</p> + +<p>But my botanist obtrudes his personality again. His thoughts +have travelled by a different route.</p> + +<p>“I know,” he says, “that she will be happier here, and that they +will value her better than she has been valued upon earth.”</p> + +<p>His interruption serves to turn me back from my momentary +contemplation of those popular effigies inflated by old newspapers +and windy report, the earthly great. He sets me thinking of more +personal and intimate applications, of the human beings one knows +with a certain approximation to real knowledge, of the actual +common substance of life. He turns me to the thought of rivalries +and tendernesses, of differences and disappointments. I am suddenly +brought painfully against the things that might have been. What if +instead of that Utopia of vacant ovals we meet relinquished loves +here, and opportunities lost and faces as they might have looked to +us?</p> + +<p>I turn to my botanist almost reprovingly. “You know, she won't +be quite the same lady here that you knew in Frognal,” I say, and +wrest myself from a subject that is no longer agreeable by rising +to my feet.</p> + +<p>“And besides,” I say, standing above him, “the chances against +our meeting her are a million to one.... And we loiter! This is not +the business we have come upon, but a mere incidental kink in our +larger plan. The fact remains, these people we have come to see are +people with like infirmities to our own—and only the conditions +are changed. Let us pursue the tenour of our inquiry.”</p> + +<p>With that I lead the way round the edge of the Lake of Lucendro +towards our Utopian world.</p> + +<p align="center">(<i>You figure him doing it</i>.)</p> + +<p>Down the mountain we shall go and down the passes, and as the +valleys open the world will open, Utopia, where men and women are +happy and laws are wise, and where all that is tangled and confused +in human affairs has been unravelled and made right.</p> + +<h3 align="center">CHAPTER THE SECOND<br> +Concerning Freedoms</h3> + +<h4 align="center">§ 1</h4> + +<p>Now what sort of question would first occur to two men +descending upon the planet of a Modern Utopia? Probably grave +solicitude about their personal freedom. Towards the Stranger, as I +have already remarked, the Utopias of the past displayed their +least amiable aspect. Would this new sort of Utopian State, spread +to the dimensions of a world, be any less forbidding?</p> + +<p>We should take comfort in the thought that universal Toleration +is certainly a modern idea, and it is upon modern ideas that this +World State rests. But even suppose we are tolerated and admitted +to this unavoidable citizenship, there will still remain a wide +range of possibility.... I think we should try to work the problem +out from an inquiry into first principles, and that we should +follow the trend of our time and kind by taking up the question as +one of “Man <i>versus</i> the State,” and discussing the compromise +of Liberty.</p> + +<p>The idea of individual liberty is one that has grown in +importance and grows with every development of modern thought. To +the classical Utopists freedom was relatively trivial. Clearly they +considered virtue and happiness as entirely separable from liberty, +and as being altogether more important things. But the modern view, +with its deepening insistence upon individuality and upon the +significance of its uniqueness, steadily intensifies the value of +freedom, until at last we begin to see liberty as the very +substance of life, that indeed it is life, and that only the dead +things, the choiceless things, live in absolute obedience to law. +To have free play for one's individuality is, in the modern view, +the subjective triumph of existence, as survival in creative work +and offspring is its objective triumph. But for all men, since man +is a social creature, the play of will must fall short of absolute +freedom. Perfect human liberty is possible only to a despot who is +absolutely and universally obeyed. Then to will would be to command +and achieve, and within the limits of natural law we could at any +moment do exactly as it pleased us to do. All other liberty is a +compromise between our own freedom of will and the wills of those +with whom we come in contact. In an organised state each one of us +has a more or less elaborate code of what he may do to others and +to himself, and what others may do to him. He limits others by his +rights, and is limited by the rights of others, and by +considerations affecting the welfare of the community as a +whole.</p> + +<p>Individual liberty in a community is not, as mathematicians +would say, always of the same sign. To ignore this is the essential +fallacy of the cult called Individualism. But in truth, a general +prohibition in a state may increase the sum of liberty, and a +general permission may diminish it. It does not follow, as these +people would have us believe, that a man is more free where there +is least law and more restricted where there is most law. A +socialism or a communism is not necessarily a slavery, and there is +no freedom under Anarchy. Consider how much liberty we gain by the +loss of the common liberty to kill. Thereby one may go to and fro +in all the ordered parts of the earth, unencumbered by arms or +armour, free of the fear of playful poison, whimsical barbers, or +hotel trap-doors. Indeed, it means freedom from a thousand fears +and precautions. Suppose there existed even the limited freedom to +kill in vendetta, and think what would happen in our suburbs. +Consider the inconvenience of two households in a modern suburb +estranged and provided with modern weapons of precision, the +inconvenience not only to each other, but to the neutral +pedestrian, the practical loss of freedoms all about them. The +butcher, if he came at all, would have to come round in an armoured +cart....</p> + +<p>It follows, therefore, in a modern Utopia, which finds the final +hope of the world in the evolving interplay of unique +individualities, that the State will have effectually chipped away +just all those spendthrift liberties that waste liberty, and not +one liberty more, and so have attained the maximum general +freedom.</p> + +<p>There are two distinct and contrasting methods of limiting +liberty; the first is Prohibition, “thou shalt not,” and the second +Command, “thou shalt.” There is, however, a sort of prohibition +that takes the form of a conditional command, and this one needs to +bear in mind. It says if you do so-and-so, you must also do +so-and-so; if, for example, you go to sea with men you employ, you +must go in a seaworthy vessel. But the pure command is +unconditional; it says, whatever you have done or are doing or want +to do, you are to do this, as when the social system, working +through the base necessities of base parents and bad laws, sends a +child of thirteen into a factory. Prohibition takes one definite +thing from the indefinite liberty of a man, but it still leaves him +an unbounded choice of actions. He remains free, and you have +merely taken a bucketful from the sea of his freedom. But +compulsion destroys freedom altogether. In this Utopia of ours +there may be many prohibitions, but no indirect compulsions—if one +may so contrive it—and few or no commands. As far as I see it now, +in this present discussion, I think, indeed, there should be no +positive compulsions at all in Utopia, at any rate for the adult +Utopian—unless they fall upon him as penalties incurred.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 2</h4> + +<p>What prohibitions should we be under, we two Uitlanders in this +Utopian world? We should certainly not be free to kill, assault, or +threaten anyone we met, and in that we earth-trained men would not +be likely to offend. And until we knew more exactly the Utopian +idea of property we should be very chary of touching anything that +might conceivably be appropriated. If it was not the property of +individuals it might be the property of the State. But beyond that +we might have our doubts. Are we right in wearing the strange +costumes we do, in choosing the path that pleases us athwart this +rock and turf, in coming striding with unfumigated rücksacks and +snow-wet hobnails into what is conceivably an extremely neat and +orderly world? We have passed our first Utopian now, with an +answered vague gesture, and have noted, with secret satisfaction, +there is no access of dismay; we have rounded a bend, and down the +valley in the distance we get a glimpse of what appears to be a +singularly well-kept road....</p> + +<p>I submit that to the modern minded man it can be no sort of +Utopia worth desiring that does not give the utmost freedom of +going to and fro. Free movement is to many people one of the +greatest of life's privileges—to go wherever the spirit moves +them, to wander and see—and though they have every comfort, every +security, every virtuous discipline, they will still be unhappy if +that is denied them. Short of damage to things cherished and made, +the Utopians will surely have this right, so we may expect no +unclimbable walls and fences, nor the discovery of any laws we may +transgress in coming down these mountain places.</p> + +<p>And yet, just as civil liberty itself is a compromise defended +by prohibitions, so this particular sort of liberty must also have +its qualifications. Carried to the absolute pitch the right of free +movement ceases to be distinguishable from the right of free +intrusion. We have already, in a comment on More's <i>Utopia</i>, +hinted at an agreement with Aristotle's argument against communism, +that it flings people into an intolerable continuity of contact. +Schopenhauer carried out Aristotle in the vein of his own +bitterness and with the truest of images when he likened human +society to hedgehogs clustering for warmth, and unhappy when either +too closely packed or too widely separated. Empedocles found no +significance in life whatever except as an unsteady play of love +and hate, of attraction and repulsion, of assimilation and the +assertion of difference. So long as we ignore difference, so long +as we ignore individuality, and that I hold has been the common sin +of all Utopias hitherto, we can make absolute statements, prescribe +communisms or individualisms, and all sorts of hard theoretic +arrangements. But in the world of reality, which—to modernise +Heraclitus and Empedocles—is nothing more nor less than the world +of individuality, there are no absolute rights and wrongs, there +are no qualitative questions at all, but only quantitative +adjustments. Equally strong in the normal civilised man is the +desire for freedom of movement and the desire for a certain +privacy, for a corner definitely his, and we have to consider where +the line of reconciliation comes.</p> + +<p>The desire for absolute personal privacy is perhaps never a very +strong or persistent craving. In the great majority of human +beings, the gregarious instinct is sufficiently powerful to render +any but the most temporary isolations not simply disagreeable, but +painful. The savage has all the privacy he needs within the compass +of his skull; like dogs and timid women, he prefers ill-treatment +to desertion, and it is only a scarce and complex modern type that +finds comfort and refreshment in quite lonely places and quite +solitary occupations. Yet such there are, men who can neither sleep +well nor think well, nor attain to a full perception of beautiful +objects, who do not savour the best of existence until they are +securely alone, and for the sake of these even it would be +reasonable to draw some limits to the general right of free +movement. But their particular need is only a special and +exceptional aspect of an almost universal claim to privacy among +modern people, not so much for the sake of isolation as for +congenial companionship. We want to go apart from the great crowd, +not so much to be alone as to be with those who appeal to us +particularly and to whom we particularly appeal; we want to form +households and societies with them, to give our individualities +play in intercourse with them, and in the appointments and +furnishings of that intercourse. We want gardens and enclosures and +exclusive freedoms for our like and our choice, just as spacious as +we can get them—and it is only the multitudinous uncongenial, +anxious also for similar developments in some opposite direction, +that checks this expansive movement of personal selection and +necessitates a compromise on privacy.</p> + +<p>Glancing back from our Utopian mountain side down which this +discourse marches, to the confusions of old earth, we may remark +that the need and desire for privacies there is exceptionally great +at the present time, that it was less in the past, that in the +future it may be less again, and that under the Utopian conditions +to which we shall come when presently we strike yonder road, it may +be reduced to quite manageable dimensions. But this is to be +effected not by the suppression of individualities to some common +pattern, [Footnote: More's <i>Utopia</i>. “Whoso will may go in, +for there is nothing within the houses that is private or anie +man's owne.”] but by the broadening of public charity and the +general amelioration of mind and manners. It is not by +assimilation, that is to say, but by understanding that the modern +Utopia achieves itself. The ideal community of man's past was one +with a common belief, with common customs and common ceremonies, +common manners and common formulæ; men of the same society +dressed in the same fashion, each according to his defined and +understood grade, behaved in the same fashion, loved, worshipped, +and died in the same fashion. They did or felt little that did not +find a sympathetic publicity. The natural disposition of all +peoples, white, black, or brown, a natural disposition that +education seeks to destroy, is to insist upon uniformity, to make +publicity extremely unsympathetic to even the most harmless +departures from the code. To be dressed “odd,” to behave “oddly,” +to eat in a different manner or of different food, to commit, +indeed, any breach of the established convention is to give offence +and to incur hostility among unsophisticated men. But the +disposition of the more original and enterprising minds at all +times has been to make such innovations.</p> + +<p>This is particularly in evidence in this present age. The almost +cataclysmal development of new machinery, the discovery of new +materials, and the appearance of new social possibilities through +the organised pursuit of material science, has given enormous and +unprecedented facilities to the spirit of innovation. The old local +order has been broken up or is now being broken up all over the +earth, and everywhere societies deliquesce, everywhere men are +afloat amidst the wreckage of their flooded conventions, and still +tremendously unaware of the thing that has happened. The old local +orthodoxies of behaviour, of precedence, the old accepted +amusements and employments, the old ritual of conduct in the +important small things of the daily life and the old ritual of +thought in the things that make discussion, are smashed up and +scattered and mixed discordantly together, one use with another, +and no world-wide culture of toleration, no courteous admission of +differences, no wider understanding has yet replaced them. And so +publicity in the modern earth has become confusedly unsympathetic +for everyone. Classes are intolerable to classes and sets to sets, +contact provokes aggressions, comparisons, persecutions and +discomforts, and the subtler people are excessively tormented by a +sense of observation, unsympathetic always and often hostile. To +live without some sort of segregation from the general mass is +impossible in exact proportion to one's individual distinction.</p> + +<p>Of course things will be very different in Utopia. Utopia will +be saturated with consideration. To us, clad as we are in +mountain-soiled tweeds and with no money but British bank-notes +negotiable only at a practically infinite distance, this must needs +be a reassuring induction. And Utopian manners will not only be +tolerant, but almost universally tolerable. Endless things will be +understood perfectly and universally that on earth are understood +only by a scattered few; baseness of bearing, grossness of manner, +will be the distinctive mark of no section of the community +whatever. The coarser reasons for privacy, therefore, will not +exist here. And that savage sort of shyness, too, that makes so +many half-educated people on earth recluse and defensive, that too +the Utopians will have escaped by their more liberal breeding. In +the cultivated State we are assuming it will be ever so much easier +for people to eat in public, rest and amuse themselves in public, +and even work in public. Our present need for privacy in many +things marks, indeed, a phase of transition from an ease in public +in the past due to homogeneity, to an ease in public in the future +due to intelligence and good breeding, and in Utopia that +transition will be complete. We must bear that in mind throughout +the consideration of this question.</p> + +<p>Yet, after this allowance has been made, there still remains a +considerable claim for privacy in Utopia. The room, or apartments, +or home, or mansion, whatever it may be a man or woman maintains, +must be private, and under his or her complete dominion; it seems +harsh and intrusive to forbid a central garden plot or peristyle, +such as one sees in Pompeii, within the house walls, and it is +almost as difficult to deny a little private territory beyond the +house. Yet if we concede that, it is clear that without some +further provision we concede the possibility that the poorer +townsman (if there are to be rich and poor in the world) will be +forced to walk through endless miles of high fenced villa gardens +before he may expand in his little scrap of reserved open country. +Such is already the poor Londoner's miserable fate.... Our Utopia +will have, of course, faultless roads and beautifully arranged +inter-urban communications, swift trains or motor services or what +not, to diffuse its population, and without some anticipatory +provisions, the prospect of the residential areas becoming a vast +area of defensively walled villa Edens is all too possible.</p> + +<p>This is a quantitative question, be it remembered, and not to be +dismissed by any statement of principle. Our Utopians will meet it, +I presume, by detailed regulations, very probably varying locally +with local conditions. Privacy beyond the house might be made a +privilege to be paid for in proportion to the area occupied, and +the tax on these licences of privacy might increase as the square +of the area affected. A maximum fraction of private enclosure for +each urban and suburban square mile could be fixed. A distinction +could be drawn between an absolutely private garden and a garden +private and closed only for a day or a couple of days a week, and +at other times open to the well-behaved public. Who, in a really +civilised community, would grudge that measure of invasion? Walls +could be taxed by height and length, and the enclosure of really +natural beauties, of rapids, cascades, gorges, viewpoints, and so +forth made impossible. So a reasonable compromise between the vital +and conflicting claims of the freedom of movement and the freedom +of seclusion might be attained....</p> + +<p>And as we argue thus we draw nearer and nearer to the road that +goes up and over the Gotthard crest and down the Val Tremola +towards Italy.</p> + +<p>What sort of road would that be?</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 3</h4> + +<p>Freedom of movement in a Utopia planned under modern conditions +must involve something more than unrestricted pedestrian +wanderings, and the very proposition of a world-state speaking one +common tongue carries with it the idea of a world population +travelled and travelling to an extent quite beyond anything our +native earth has seen. It is now our terrestrial experience that +whenever economic and political developments set a class free to +travel, that class at once begins to travel; in England, for +example, above the five or six hundred pounds a year level, it is +hard to find anyone who is not habitually migratory, who has not +been frequently, as people say, “abroad.” In the Modern Utopia +travel must be in the common texture of life. To go into fresh +climates and fresh scenery, to meet a different complexion of +humanity and a different type of home and food and apparatus, to +mark unfamiliar trees and plants and flowers and beasts, to climb +mountains, to see the snowy night of the North and the blaze of the +tropical midday, to follow great rivers, to taste loneliness in +desert places, to traverse the gloom of tropical forests and to +cross the high seas, will be an essential part of the reward and +adventure of life, even for the commonest people.... This is a +bright and pleasant particular in which a modern Utopia must differ +again, and differ diametrically, from its predecessors.</p> + +<p>We may conclude from what has been done in places upon our earth +that the whole Utopian world will be open and accessible and as +safe for the wayfarer as France or England is to-day. The peace of +the world will be established for ever, and everywhere, except in +remote and desolate places, there will be convenient inns, at least +as convenient and trustworthy as those of Switzerland to-day; the +touring clubs and hotel associations that have tariffed that +country and France so effectually will have had their fine Utopian +equivalents, and the whole world will be habituated to the coming +and going of strangers. The greater part of the world will be as +secure and cheaply and easily accessible to everyone as is Zermatt +or Lucerne to a Western European of the middle-class at the present +time.</p> + +<p>On this account alone no places will be so congested as these +two are now on earth. With freedom to go everywhere, with easy +access everywhere, with no dread of difficulties about language, +coinage, custom, or law, why should everyone continue to go to just +a few special places? Such congestions are merely the measure of +the general inaccessibility and insecurity and costliness of +contemporary life, an awkward transitory phase in the first +beginnings of the travel age of mankind.</p> + +<p>No doubt the Utopian will travel in many ways. It is unlikely +there will be any smoke-disgorging steam railway trains in Utopia, +they are already doomed on earth, already threatened with that +obsolescence that will endear them to the Ruskins of to-morrow, but +a thin spider's web of inconspicuous special routes will cover the +land of the world, pierce the mountain masses and tunnel under the +seas. These may be double railways or monorails or what not—we are +no engineers to judge between such devices—but by means of them +the Utopian will travel about the earth from one chief point to +another at a speed of two or three hundred miles or more an hour. +That will abolish the greater distances.... One figures these main +communications as something after the manner of corridor trains, +smooth-running and roomy, open from end to end, with cars in which +one may sit and read, cars in which one may take refreshment, cars +into which the news of the day comes printing itself from the wires +beside the track; cars in which one may have privacy and sleep if +one is so disposed, bath-room cars, library cars; a train as +comfortable as a good club. There will be no distinctions of class +in such a train, because in a civilised world there would be no +offence between one kind of man and another, and for the good of +the whole world such travelling will be as cheap as it can be, and +well within the reach of any but the almost criminally poor.</p> + +<p>Such great tramways as this will be used when the Utopians wish +to travel fast and far; thereby you will glide all over the land +surface of the planet; and feeding them and distributing from them, +innumerable minor systems, clean little electric tramways I picture +them, will spread out over the land in finer reticulations, growing +close and dense in the urban regions and thinning as the population +thins. And running beside these lighter railways, and spreading +beyond their range, will be the smooth minor high roads such as +this one we now approach, upon which independent vehicles, motor +cars, cycles, and what not, will go. I doubt if we shall see any +horses upon this fine, smooth, clean road; I doubt if there will be +many horses on the high roads of Utopia, and, indeed, if they will +use draught horses at all upon that planet. Why should they? Where +the world gives turf or sand, or along special tracts, the horse +will perhaps be ridden for exercise and pleasure, but that will be +all the use for him; and as for the other beasts of burthen, on the +remoter mountain tracks the mule will no doubt still be a +picturesque survival, in the desert men will still find a use for +the camel, and the elephant may linger to play a part in the +pageant of the East. But the burthen of the minor traffic, if not +the whole of it, will certainly be mechanical. This is what we +shall see even while the road is still remote, swift and shapely +motor-cars going past, cyclists, and in these agreeable mountain +regions there will also be pedestrians upon their way. Cycle tracks +will abound in Utopia, sometimes following beside the great high +roads, but oftener taking their own more agreeable line amidst +woods and crops and pastures; and there will be a rich variety of +footpaths and minor ways. There will be many footpaths in Utopia. +There will be pleasant ways over the scented needles of the +mountain pinewoods, primrose-strewn tracks amidst the budding +thickets of the lower country, paths running beside rushing +streams, paths across the wide spaces of the corn land, and, above +all, paths through the flowery garden spaces amidst which the +houses in the towns will stand. And everywhere about the world, on +road and path, by sea and land, the happy holiday Utopians will +go.</p> + +<p>The population of Utopia will be a migratory population beyond +any earthly precedent, not simply a travelling population, but +migratory. The old Utopias were all localised, as localised as a +parish councillor; but it is manifest that nowadays even quite +ordinary people live over areas that would have made a kingdom in +those former days, would have filled the Athenian of the +<i>Laws</i> with incredulous astonishment. Except for the habits of +the very rich during the Roman Empire, there was never the +slightest precedent for this modern detachment from place. It is +nothing to us that we go eighty or ninety miles from home to place +of business, or take an hour's spin of fifty miles to our week-end +golf; every summer it has become a fixed custom to travel wide and +far. Only the clumsiness of communications limit us now, and every +facilitation of locomotion widens not only our potential, but our +habitual range. Not only this, but we change our habitations with a +growing frequency and facility; to Sir Thomas More we should seem a +breed of nomads. That old fixity was of necessity and not of +choice, it was a mere phase in the development of civilisation, a +trick of rooting man learnt for a time from his new-found friends, +the corn and the vine and the hearth; the untamed spirit of the +young has turned for ever to wandering and the sea. The soul of man +has never yet in any land been willingly adscript to the glebe. +Even Mr. Belloc, who preaches the happiness of a peasant +proprietary, is so much wiser than his thoughts that he sails about +the seas in a little yacht or goes afoot from Belgium to Rome. We +are winning our freedom again once more, a freedom renewed and +enlarged, and there is now neither necessity nor advantage in a +permanent life servitude to this place or that. Men may settle down +in our Modern Utopia for love and the family at last, but first and +most abundantly they will see the world.</p> + +<p>And with this loosening of the fetters of locality from the feet +of men, necessarily there will be all sorts of fresh distributions +of the factors of life. On our own poor haphazard earth, wherever +men work, wherever there are things to be grown, minerals to be +won, power to be used, there, regardless of all the joys and +decencies of life, the households needs must cluster. But in Utopia +there will be wide stretches of cheerless or unhealthy or toilsome +or dangerous land with never a household; there will be regions of +mining and smelting, black with the smoke of furnaces and gashed +and desolated by mines, with a sort of weird inhospitable grandeur +of industrial desolation, and the men will come thither and work +for a spell and return to civilisation again, washing and changing +their attire in the swift gliding train. And by way of compensation +there will be beautiful regions of the earth specially set apart +and favoured for children; in them the presence of children will +remit taxation, while in other less wholesome places the presence +of children will be taxed; the lower passes and fore hills of these +very Alps, for example, will be populous with homes, serving the +vast arable levels of Upper Italy.</p> + +<p>So we shall see, as we come down by our little lake in the lap +of Lucendro, and even before we reach the road, the first scattered +chalets and households in which these migrant people live, the +upper summer homes. With the coming of summer, as the snows on the +high Alps recede, a tide of households and schools, teachers and +doctors, and all such attendant services will flow up the mountain +masses, and ebb again when the September snows return. It is +essential to the modern ideal of life that the period of education +and growth should be prolonged to as late a period as possible and +puberty correspondingly retarded, and by wise regulation the +statesmen of Utopia will constantly adjust and readjust regulations +and taxation to diminish the proportion of children reared in hot +and stimulating conditions. These high mountains will, in the +bright sweet summer, be populous with youth. Even up towards this +high place where the snow is scarce gone until July, these +households will extend, and below, the whole long valley of Urseren +will be a scattered summer town.</p> + +<p>One figures one of the more urban highways, one of those along +which the light railways of the second order run, such as that in +the valley of Urseren, into which we should presently come. I +figure it as one would see it at night, a band a hundred yards +perhaps in width, the footpath on either side shaded with high +trees and lit softly with orange glowlights; while down the centre +the tramway of the road will go, with sometimes a nocturnal +tram-car gliding, lit and gay but almost noiselessly, past. +Lantern-lit cyclists will flit along the track like fireflies, and +ever and again some humming motor-car will hurry by, to or from the +Rhoneland or the Rhineland or Switzerland or Italy. Away on either +side the lights of the little country homes up the mountain slopes +will glow.</p> + +<p>I figure it at night, because so it is we should see it +first.</p> + +<p>We should come out from our mountain valley into the minor road +that runs down the lonely rock wilderness of the San Gotthard Pass, +we should descend that nine miles of winding route, and so arrive +towards twilight among the clustering homes and upland unenclosed +gardens of Realp and Hospenthal and Andermatt. Between Realp and +Andermatt, and down the Schoellenen gorge, the greater road would +run. By the time we reached it, we should be in the way of +understanding our adventure a little better. We should know +already, when we saw those two familiar clusters of chalets and +hotels replaced by a great dispersed multitude of houses—we should +see their window lights, but little else—that we were the victims +of some strange transition in space or time, and we should come +down by dimly-seen buildings into the part that would answer to +Hospenthal, wondering and perhaps a little afraid. We should come +out into this great main roadway—this roadway like an urban +avenue—and look up it and down, hesitating whether to go along the +valley Furka-ward, or down by Andermatt through the gorge that +leads to Göschenen....</p> + +<p>People would pass us in the twilight, and then more people; we +should see they walked well and wore a graceful, unfamiliar dress, +but more we should not distinguish.</p> + +<p>“Good-night!” they would say to us in clear, fine voices. Their +dim faces would turn with a passing scrutiny towards us.</p> + +<p>We should answer out of our perplexity: “Good-night!”—for by +the conventions established in the beginning of this book, we are +given the freedom of their tongue.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 4</h4> + +<p>Were this a story, I should tell at length how much we were +helped by the good fortune of picking up a Utopian coin of gold, +how at last we adventured into the Utopian inn and found it all +marvellously easy. You see us the shyest and most watchful of +guests; but of the food they put before us and the furnishings of +the house, and all our entertainment, it will be better to speak +later. We are in a migratory world, we know, one greatly accustomed +to foreigners; our mountain clothes are not strange enough to +attract acute attention, though ill-made and shabby, no doubt, by +Utopian standards; we are dealt with as we might best wish to be +dealt with, that is to say as rather untidy, inconspicuous men. We +look about us and watch for hints and examples, and, indeed, get +through with the thing. And after our queer, yet not unpleasant, +dinner, in which we remark no meat figures, we go out of the house +for a breath of air and for quiet counsel one with another, and +there it is we discover those strange constellations overhead. It +comes to us then, clear and full, that our imagination has realised +itself; we dismiss quite finally a Rip-Van-Winkle fancy we have +entertained, all the unfamiliarities of our descent from the +mountain pass gather together into one fullness of conviction, and +we know, we know, we are in Utopia.</p> + +<p>We wander under the trees by the main road, watching the dim +passers-by as though they were the phantoms of a dream. We say +little to one another. We turn aside into a little pathway and come +to a bridge over the turbulent Reuss, hurrying down towards the +Devil's Bridge in the gorge below. Far away over the Furka ridge a +pallid glow preludes the rising of the moon.</p> + +<p>Two lovers pass us whispering, and we follow them with our eyes. +This Utopia has certainly preserved the fundamental freedom, to +love. And then a sweet-voiced bell from somewhere high up towards +Oberalp chimes two-and-twenty times.</p> + +<p>I break the silence. “That might mean ten o'clock,” I say.</p> + +<p>My companion leans upon the bridge and looks down into the dim +river below. I become aware of the keen edge of the moon like a +needle of incandescent silver creeping over the crest, and suddenly +the river is alive with flashes.</p> + +<p>He speaks, and astonishes me with the hidden course his thoughts +have taken.</p> + +<p>“We two were boy and girl lovers like that,” he says, and jerks +a head at the receding Utopians. “I loved her first, and I do not +think I have ever thought of loving anyone but her.”</p> + +<p>It is a curiously human thing, and, upon my honour, not one I +had designed, that when at last I stand in the twilight in the +midst of a Utopian township, when my whole being should be taken up +with speculative wonder, this man should be standing by my side, +and lugging my attention persistently towards himself, towards his +limited futile self. This thing perpetually happens to me, this +intrusion of something small and irrelevant and alive, upon my +great impressions. The time I first saw the Matterhorn, that Queen +among the Alpine summits, I was distracted beyond appreciation by +the tale of a man who could not eat sardines—always sardines did +this with him and that; and my first wanderings along the brown +streets of Pompeii, an experience I had anticipated with a strange +intensity, was shot with the most stupidly intelligent discourse on +vehicular tariffs in the chief capitals of Europe that it is +possible to imagine. And now this man, on my first night in Utopia, +talks and talks and talks of his poor little love affair.</p> + +<p>It shapes itself as the most trite and feeble of tragedies, one +of those stories of effortless submission to chance and custom in +which Mr. Hardy or George Gissing might have found a theme. I do +but half listen at first—watching the black figures in the moonlit +roadway pacing to and fro. Yet—I cannot trace how he conveys the +subtle conviction to my mind—the woman he loves is beautiful.</p> + +<p>They were boy and girl together, and afterwards they met again +as fellow students in a world of comfortable discretions. He seems +to have taken the decorums of life with a confiding good faith, to +have been shy and innocent in a suppressed sort of way, and of a +mental type not made for worldly successes; but he must have dreamt +about her and loved her well enough. How she felt for him I could +never gather; it seemed to be all of that fleshless friendliness +into which we train our girls. Then abruptly happened stresses. The +man who became her husband appeared, with a very evident passion. +He was a year or so older than either of them, and he had the habit +and quality of achieving his ends; he was already successful, and +with the promise of wealth, and I, at least, perceived, from my +botanist's phrasing, that his desire was for her beauty.</p> + +<p>As my botanist talked I seemed to see the whole little drama, +rather clearer than his words gave it me, the actors all absurdly +in Hampstead middle-class raiment, meetings of a Sunday after +church (the men in silk hats, frock coats, and tightly-rolled +umbrellas), rare excursions into evening dress, the decorously +vulgar fiction read in their homes, its ambling sentimentalities of +thought, the amiably worldly mothers, the respectable fathers, the +aunts, the “people”—his “people” and her “people”—the +piano music and the song, and in this setting our friend, “quite +clever” at botany and “going in” for it “as a profession,” +and the girl, gratuitously beautiful; so I figured the arranged and +orderly environment into which this claw of an elemental force had +thrust itself to grip.</p> + +<p>The stranger who had come in got what he wanted; the girl +considered that she thought she had never loved the botanist, had +had only friendship for him—though little she knew of the meaning +of those fine words—they parted a little incoherently and in +tears, and it had not occurred to the young man to imagine she was +not going off to conventional life in some other of the endless +Frognals he imagined as the cellular tissue of the world.</p> + +<p>But she wasn't.</p> + +<p>He had kept her photograph and her memory sweet, and if ever he +had strayed from the severest constancy, it seemed only in the end +to strengthen with the stuff of experience, to enhance by +comparative disappointment his imagination of what she might have +meant to him.... Then eight years afterwards they met again.</p> + +<p>By the time he gets to this part of his story we have, at my +initiative, left the bridge and are walking towards the Utopian +guest house. The Utopian guest house! His voice rises and falls, +and sometimes he holds my arm. My attention comes and goes. +“Good-night,” two sweet-voiced Utopians cry to us in their +universal tongue, and I answer them “Good-night.”</p> + +<p>“You see,” he persists, “I saw her only a week ago. It was in +Lucerne, while I was waiting for you to come on from England. I +talked to her three or four times altogether. And her face—the +change in her! I can't get it out of my head—night or day. The +miserable waste of her....”</p> + +<p>Before us, through the tall pine stems, shine the lights of our +Utopian inn.</p> + +<p>He talks vaguely of ill-usage. “The husband is vain, boastful, +dishonest to the very confines of the law, and a drunkard. There +are scenes and insults―”</p> + +<p>“She told you?”</p> + +<p>“Not much, but someone else did. He brings other women almost +into her presence to spite her.”</p> + +<p>“And it's going on?” I interrupt.</p> + +<p>“Yes. <i>Now</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Need it go on?”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Lady in trouble,” I say. “Knight at hand. Why not stop this +dismal grizzling and carry her off?” (You figure the heroic sweep +of the arm that belongs to the Voice.) I positively forget for the +moment that we are in Utopia at all.</p> + +<p>“You mean?”</p> + +<p>“Take her away from him! What's all this emotion of yours worth +if it isn't equal to that!”</p> + +<p>Positively he seems aghast at me.</p> + +<p>“Do you mean elope with her?”</p> + +<p>“It seems a most suitable case.”</p> + +<p>For a space he is silent, and we go on through the trees. A +Utopian tram-car passes and I see his face, poor bitted wretch! +looking pinched and scared in its trailing glow of light.</p> + +<p>“That's all very well in a novel,” he says. “But how could I go +back to my laboratory, mixed classes with young ladies, you know, +after a thing like that? How could we live and where could we live? +We might have a house in London, but who would call upon us?... +Besides, you don't know her. She is not the sort of woman.... Don't +think I'm timid or conventional. Don't think I don't feel.... Feel! +<i>You</i> don't know what it is to feel in a case of this +sort....”</p> + +<p>He halts and then flies out viciously: “Ugh! There are times +when I could strangle him with my hands.”</p> + +<p>Which is nonsense.</p> + +<p>He flings out his lean botanising hands in an impotent +gesture.</p> + +<p>“My dear Man!” I say, and say no more.</p> + +<p>For a moment I forget we are in Utopia altogether.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 5</h4> + +<p>Let us come back to Utopia. We were speaking of travel.</p> + +<p>Besides roadways and railways and tramways, for those who go to +and fro in the earth the Modern Utopians will have very many other +ways of travelling. There will be rivers, for example, with a vast +variety of boats; canals with diverse sorts of haulage; there will +be lakes and lagoons; and when one comes at last to the borders of +the land, the pleasure craft will be there, coming and going, and +the swift great passenger vessels, very big and steady, doing +thirty knots an hour or more, will trace long wakes as they go +dwindling out athwart the restless vastness of the sea.</p> + +<p>They will be just beginning to fly in Utopia. We owe much to M. +Santos Dumont; the world is immeasurably more disposed to believe +this wonder is coming, and coming nearly, than it was five years +ago. But unless we are to suppose Utopian scientific knowledge far +in advance of ours—and though that supposition was not proscribed +in our initial undertaking, it would be inconvenient for us and not +quite in the vein of the rest of our premises—they, too, will only +be in the same experimental stage as ourselves. In Utopia, however, +they will conduct research by the army corps while we conduct +it—we don't conduct it! We let it happen. Fools make researches +and wise men exploit them—that is our earthly way of dealing with +the question, and we thank Heaven for an assumed abundance of +financially impotent and sufficiently ingenious fools.</p> + +<p>In Utopia, a great multitude of selected men, chosen volunteers, +will be collaborating upon this new step in man's struggle with the +elements. Bacon's visionary House of Saloman [Footnote: In <i>The +New Atlantis</i>.] will be a thing realised, and it will be humming +with this business. Every university in the world will be urgently +working for priority in this aspect of the problem or that. Reports +of experiments, as full and as prompt as the telegraphic reports of +cricket in our more sportive atmosphere, will go about the world. +All this will be passing, as it were, behind the act drop of our +first experience, behind this first picture of the urbanised +Urseren valley. The literature of the subject will be growing and +developing with the easy swiftness of an eagle's swoop as we come +down the hillside; unseen in that twilight, unthought of by us +until this moment, a thousand men at a thousand glowing desks, a +busy specialist press, will be perpetually sifting, criticising, +condensing, and clearing the ground for further speculation. Those +who are concerned with the problems of public locomotion will be +following these aeronautic investigations with a keen and +enterprising interest, and so will the physiologist and the +sociologist. That Utopian research will, I say, go like an eagle's +swoop in comparison with the blind-man's fumbling of our +terrestrial way. Even before our own brief Utopian journey is out, +we may get a glimpse of the swift ripening of all this activity +that will be in progress at our coming. To-morrow, perhaps, or in a +day or so, some silent, distant thing will come gliding into view +over the mountains, will turn and soar and pass again beyond our +astonished sight....</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 6</h4> + +<p>But my friend and his great trouble turn my mind from these +questions of locomotion and the freedoms that cluster about them. +In spite of myself I find myself framing his case. He is a lover, +the most conventional of Anglican lovers, with a heart that has had +its training, I should think, in the clean but limited schoolroom +of Mrs. Henry Wood....</p> + +<p>In Utopia I think they will fly with stronger pinions, it will +not be in the superficialities of life merely that movement will be +wide and free, they will mount higher and swoop more steeply than +he in his cage can believe. What will their range be, their +prohibitions? what jars to our preconceptions will he and I receive +here?</p> + +<p>My mind flows with the free, thin flow that it has at the end of +an eventful day, and as we walk along in silence towards our inn I +rove from issue to issue, I find myself ranging amidst the +fundamental things of the individual life and all the perplexity of +desires and passions. I turn my questionings to the most difficult +of all sets of compromises, those mitigations of spontaneous +freedom that constitute the marriage laws, the mystery of balancing +justice against the good of the future, amidst these violent and +elusive passions. Where falls the balance of freedoms here? I pass +for a time from Utopianising altogether, to ask the question that, +after all, Schopenhauer failed completely to answer, why sometimes +in the case of hurtful, pointless, and destructive things we want +so vehemently....</p> + +<p>I come back from this unavailing glance into the deeps to the +general question of freedoms in this new relation. I find myself +far adrift from the case of the Frognal botanist, and asking how +far a modern Utopia will deal with personal morals.</p> + +<p>As Plato demonstrated long ago, the principles of the relation +of State control to personal morals may be best discussed in the +case of intoxication, the most isolated and least complicated of +all this group of problems. But Plato's treatment of this issue as +a question of who may or may not have the use of wine, though +suitable enough in considering a small State in which everybody was +the effectual inspector of everybody, is entirely beside the mark +under modern conditions, in which we are to have an extraordinarily +higher standard of individual privacy and an amplitude and quantity +of migration inconceivable to the Academic imagination. We may +accept his principle and put this particular freedom (of the use of +wine) among the distinctive privileges of maturity, and still find +all that a modern would think of as the Drink Question +untouched.</p> + +<p>That question in Utopia will differ perhaps in the proportion of +its factors, but in no other respect, from what it is upon earth. +The same desirable ends will be sought, the maintenance of public +order and decency, the reduction of inducements to form this bad +and wasteful habit to their lowest possible minimum, and the +complete protection of the immature. But the modern Utopians, +having systematised their sociology, will have given some attention +to the psychology of minor officials, a matter altogether too much +neglected by the social reformer on earth. They will not put into +the hands of a common policeman powers direct and indirect that +would be dangerous to the public in the hands of a judge. And they +will have avoided the immeasurable error of making their control of +the drink traffic a source of public revenue. Privacies they will +not invade, but they will certainly restrict the public consumption +of intoxicants to specified licensed places and the sale of them to +unmistakable adults, and they will make the temptation of the young +a grave offence. In so migratory a population as the Modern +Utopian, the licensing of inns and bars would be under the same +control as the railways and high roads. Inns exist for the stranger +and not for the locality, and we shall meet with nothing there to +correspond with our terrestrial absurdity of Local Option.</p> + +<p>The Utopians will certainly control this trade, and as certainly +punish personal excesses. Public drunkenness (as distinguished from +the mere elation that follows a generous but controlled use of +wine) will be an offence against public decency, and will be dealt +with in some very drastic manner. It will, of course, be an +aggravation of, and not an excuse for, crime.</p> + +<p>But I doubt whether the State will go beyond that. Whether an +adult shall use wine or beer or spirits, or not, seems to me +entirely a matter for his doctor and his own private conscience. I +doubt if we explorers shall meet any drunken men, and I doubt not +we shall meet many who have never availed themselves of their adult +freedom in this respect. The conditions of physical happiness will +be better understood in Utopia, it will be worth while to be well +there, and the intelligent citizen will watch himself closely. Half +and more of the drunkenness of earth is an attempt to lighten dull +days and hopelessly sordid and disagreeable lives, and in Utopia +they do not suffer these things. Assuredly Utopia will be +temperate, not only drinking, but eating with the soundest +discretion. Yet I do not think wine and good ale will be altogether +wanting there, nor good, mellow whisky, nor, upon occasion, the +engaging various liqueur. I do not think so. My botanist, who +abstains altogether, is of another opinion. We differ here and +leave the question to the earnest reader. I have the utmost respect +for all Teetotalers, Prohibitionists, and Haters and Persecutors of +Innkeepers, their energy of reform awakens responsive notes in me, +and to their species I look for a large part of the urgent repair +of our earth; yet for all that―</p> + +<p>There is Burgundy, for example, a bottle of soft and kindly +Burgundy, taken to make a sunshine on one's lunch when four +strenuous hours of toil have left one on the further side of +appetite. Or ale, a foaming tankard of ale, ten miles of sturdy +tramping in the sleet and slush as a prelude, and then good bread +and good butter and a ripe hollow Stilton and celery and ale—ale +with a certain quantitative freedom. Or, again, where is the sin in +a glass of tawny port three or four times, or it may be five, a +year, when the walnuts come round in their season? If you drink no +port, then what are walnuts for? Such things I hold for the reward +of vast intervals of abstinence; they justify your wide, immaculate +margin, which is else a mere unmeaning blankness on the page of +palate God has given you! I write of these things as a fleshly man, +confessedly and knowingly fleshly, and more than usually aware of +my liability to err; I know myself for a gross creature more given +to sedentary world-mending than to brisk activities, and not +one-tenth as active as the dullest newspaper boy in London. Yet +still I have my uses, uses that vanish in monotony, and still I +must ask why should we bury the talent of these bright sensations +altogether? Under no circumstances can I think of my Utopians +maintaining their fine order of life on ginger ale and lemonade and +the ale that is Kops'. Those terrible Temperance Drinks, solutions +of qualified sugar mixed with vast volumes of gas, as, for example, +soda, seltzer, lemonade, and <i>fire-extincteurs</i> hand +grenades—<i>minerals</i>, they call such stuff in England—fill a +man with wind and self-righteousness. Indeed they do! Coffee +destroys brain and kidney, a fact now universally recognised and +advertised throughout America; and tea, except for a kind of green +tea best used with discretion in punch, tans the entrails and turns +honest stomachs into leather bags. Rather would I be Metchnikoffed +[Footnote: See <i>The Nature of Man</i>, by Professor Elie +Metchnikoff.] at once and have a clean, good stomach of German +silver. No! If we are to have no ale in Utopia, give me the one +clean temperance drink that is worthy to set beside wine, and that +is simple water. Best it is when not quite pure and with a trace of +organic matter, for then it tastes and sparkles....</p> + +<p>My botanist would still argue.</p> + +<p>Thank Heaven this is my book, and that the ultimate decision +rests with me. It is open to him to write his own Utopia and +arrange that everybody shall do nothing except by the consent of +the savants of the Republic, either in his eating, drinking, +dressing or lodging, even as Cabet proposed. It is open to him to +try a <i>News from Nowhere</i> Utopia with the wine left out. I +have my short way with him here quite effectually. I turn in the +entrance of our inn to the civil but by no means obsequious +landlord, and with a careful ambiguity of manner for the thing may +be considered an outrage, and I try to make it possible the idea is +a jest—put my test demand....</p> + +<p>“You see, my dear Teetotaler?—he sets before me tray and glass +and...” Here follows the necessary experiment and a deep sigh.... +“Yes, a bottle of quite <i>excellent</i> light beer! So there are +also cakes and ale in Utopia! Let us in this saner and more +beautiful world drink perdition to all earthly excesses. Let us +drink more particularly to the coming of the day when men beyond +there will learn to distinguish between qualitative and +quantitative questions, to temper good intentions with good +intelligence, and righteousness with wisdom. One of the darkest +evils of our world is surely the unteachable wildness of the +Good.”</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 7</h4> + +<p>So presently to bed and to sleep, but not at once to sleep. At +first my brain, like a dog in unfamiliar quarters, must turn itself +round for a time or so before it lies down. This strange mystery of +a world of which I have seen so little as yet—a mountain slope, a +twilit road, a traffic of ambiguous vehicles and dim shapes, the +window lights of many homes—fills me with curiosities. Figures and +incidents come and go, the people we have passed, our landlord, +quietly attentive and yet, I feel, with the keenest curiosity +peeping from his eyes, the unfamiliar forms of the house parts and +furnishings, the unfamiliar courses of the meal. Outside this +little bedroom is a world, a whole unimagined world. A thousand +million things lie outside in the darkness beyond this lit inn of +ours, unthought-of possibilities, overlooked considerations, +surprises, riddles, incommensurables, a whole monstrous intricate +universe of consequences that I have to do my best to unravel. I +attempt impossible recapitulations and mingle the weird quality of +dream stuff with my thoughts.</p> + +<p>Athwart all this tumult of my memory goes this queer figure of +my unanticipated companion, so obsessed by himself and his own +egotistical love that this sudden change to another world seems +only a change of scene for his gnawing, uninvigorating passion. It +occurs to me that she also must have an equivalent in Utopia, and +then that idea and all ideas grow thin and vague, and are dissolved +at last in the rising tide of sleep....</p> + +<h3 align="center">CHAPTER THE THIRD<br> +Utopian Economics</h3> + +<h4 align="center">§ 1</h4> + +<p>These modern Utopians with the universally diffused good +manners, the universal education, the fine freedoms we shall +ascribe to them, their world unity, world language, world-wide +travellings, world-wide freedom of sale and purchase, will remain +mere dreamstuff, incredible even by twilight, until we have shown +that at that level the community will still sustain itself. At any +rate, the common liberty of the Utopians will not embrace the +common liberty to be unserviceable, the most perfect economy of +organisation still leaves the fact untouched that all order and +security in a State rests on the certainty of getting work done. +How will the work of this planet be done? What will be the +economics of a modern Utopia?</p> + +<p>Now in the first place, a state so vast and complex as this +world Utopia, and with so migratory a people, will need some handy +symbol to check the distribution of services and commodities. +Almost certainly they will need to have money. They will have +money, and it is not inconceivable that, for all his sorrowful +thoughts, our botanist, with his trained observation, his habit of +looking at little things upon the ground, would be the one to see +and pick up the coin that has fallen from some wayfarer's pocket. +(This, in our first hour or so before we reach the inn in the +Urseren Thal.) You figure us upon the high Gotthard road, heads +together over the little disk that contrives to tell us so much of +this strange world.</p> + +<p>It is, I imagine, of gold, and it will be a convenient accident +if it is sufficient to make us solvent for a day or so, until we +are a little more informed of the economic system into which we +have come. It is, moreover, of a fair round size, and the +inscription declares it one Lion, equal to “twaindy” bronze +Crosses. Unless the ratio of metals is very different here, this +latter must be a token coin, and therefore legal tender for but a +small amount. (That would be pain and pleasure to Mr. Wordsworth +Donisthorpe if he were to chance to join us, for once he planned a +Utopian coinage, [Footnote: <i>A System of Measures</i>, by +Wordsworth Donisthorpe.] and the words Lion and Cross are his. But +a token coinage and “legal tender” he cannot abide. They make him +argue.) And being in Utopia, that unfamiliar “twaindy” suggests at +once we have come upon that most Utopian of all things, a +duodecimal system of counting.</p> + +<p>My author's privilege of details serves me here. This Lion is +distinctly a beautiful coin, admirably made, with its value in +fine, clear letters circling the obverse side, and a head +thereon—of Newton, as I live! One detects American influence here. +Each year, as we shall find, each denomination of coins celebrates +a centenary. The reverse shows the universal goddess of the Utopian +coinage—Peace, as a beautiful woman, reading with a child out of a +great book, and behind them are stars, and an hour-glass, halfway +run. Very human these Utopians, after all, and not by any means +above the obvious in their symbolism!</p> + +<p>So for the first time we learn definitely of the World State, +and we get our first clear hint, too, that there is an end to +Kings. But our coin raises other issues also. It would seem that +this Utopia has no simple community of goods, that there is, at any +rate, a restriction upon what one may take, a need for evidences of +equivalent value, a limitation to human credit.</p> + +<p>It dates—so much of this present Utopia of ours dates. Those +former Utopists were bitterly against gold. You will recall the +undignified use Sir Thomas More would have us put it to, and how +there was no money at all in the Republic of Plato, and in that +later community for which he wrote his Laws an iron coinage of +austere appearance and doubtful efficacy.... It may be these great +gentlemen were a little hasty with a complicated difficulty, and +not a little unjust to a highly respectable element.</p> + +<p>Gold is abused and made into vessels of dishonour, and abolished +from ideal society as though it were the cause instead of the +instrument of human baseness; but, indeed, there is nothing bad in +gold. Making gold into vessels of dishonour and banishing it from +the State is punishing the hatchet for the murderer's crime. Money, +did you but use it right, is a good thing in life, a necessary +thing in civilised human life, as complicated, indeed, for its +purposes, but as natural a growth as the bones in a man's wrist, +and I do not see how one can imagine anything at all worthy of +being called a civilisation without it. It is the water of the body +social, it distributes and receives, and renders growth and +assimilation and movement and recovery possible. It is the +reconciliation of human interdependence with liberty. What other +device will give a man so great a freedom with so strong an +inducement to effort? The economic history of the world, where it +is not the history of the theory of property, is very largely the +record of the abuse, not so much of money as of credit devices to +supplement money, to amplify the scope of this most precious +invention; and no device of labour credits [Footnote: Edward +Bellamy's <i>Looking Backward</i>, Ch. IX.] or free demand of +commodities from a central store [Footnote: More's <i>Utopia</i> +and Cabet's <i>Icaria</i>.] or the like has ever been suggested +that does not give ten thousand times more scope for that inherent +moral dross in man that must be reckoned with in any sane Utopia we +may design and plan.... Heaven knows where progress may not end, +but at any rate this developing State, into which we two men have +fallen, this Twentieth Century Utopia, has still not passed beyond +money and the use of coins.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 2</h4> + +<p>Now if this Utopian world is to be in some degree parallel to +contemporary thought, it must have been concerned, it may be still +concerned, with many unsettled problems of currency, and with the +problems that centre about a standard of value. Gold is perhaps of +all material substances the best adapted to the monetary purpose, +but even at that best it falls far short of an imaginable ideal. It +undergoes spasmodic and irregular cheapening through new +discoveries of gold, and at any time it may undergo very extensive +and sudden and disastrous depreciation through the discovery of +some way of transmuting less valuable elements. The liability to +such depreciations introduces an undesirable speculative element +into the relations of debtor and creditor. When, on the one hand, +there is for a time a check in the increase of the available stores +of gold, or an increase in the energy applied to social purposes, +or a checking of the public security that would impede the free +exchange of credit and necessitate a more frequent production of +gold in evidence, then there comes an undue appreciation of money +as against the general commodities of life, and an automatic +impoverishment of the citizens in general as against the creditor +class. The common people are mortgaged into the bondage of debt. +And on the other hand an unexpected spate of gold production, the +discovery of a single nugget as big as St. Paul's, let us say—a +quite possible thing—would result in a sort of jail delivery of +debtors and a financial earthquake.</p> + +<p>It has been suggested by an ingenious thinker that it is +possible to use as a standard of monetary value no substance +whatever, but instead, force, and that value might be measured in +units of energy. An excellent development this, in theory, at any +rate, of the general idea of the modern State as kinetic and not +static; it throws the old idea of the social order and the new into +the sharpest antithesis. The old order is presented as a system of +institutions and classes ruled by men of substance; the new, of +enterprises and interests led by men of power.</p> + +<p>Now I glance at this matter in the most incidental manner, as a +man may skim through a specialist's exposition in a popular +magazine. You must figure me, therefore, finding from a casual +periodical paper in our inn, with a certain surprise at not having +anticipated as much, the Utopian self of that same ingenious person +quite conspicuously a leader of thought, and engaged in organising +the discussion of the currency changes Utopia has under +consideration. The article, as it presents itself to me, contains a +complete and lucid, though occasionally rather technical, +explanation of his newest proposals. They have been published, it +seems, for general criticism, and one gathers that in the modern +Utopia the administration presents the most elaborately detailed +schemes of any proposed alteration in law or custom, some time +before any measure is taken to carry it into effect, and the +possibilities of every detail are acutely criticised, flaws +anticipated, side issues raised, and the whole minutely tested and +fined down by a planetful of critics, before the actual process of +legislation begins.</p> + +<p>The explanation of these proposals involves an anticipatory +glance at the local administration of a Modern Utopia. To anyone +who has watched the development of technical science during the +last decade or so, there will be no shock in the idea that a +general consolidation of a great number of common public services +over areas of considerable size is now not only practicable, but +very desirable. In a little while heating and lighting and the +supply of power for domestic and industrial purposes and for urban +and inter-urban communications will all be managed electrically +from common generating stations. And the trend of political and +social speculation points decidedly to the conclusion that so soon +as it passes out of the experimental stage, the supply of +electrical energy, just like drainage and the supply of water, will +fall to the local authority. Moreover, the local authority will be +the universal landowner. Upon that point so extreme an +individualist as Herbert Spencer was in agreement with the +Socialist. In Utopia we conclude that, whatever other types of +property may exist, all natural sources of force, and indeed all +strictly natural products, coal, water power, and the like, are +inalienably vested in the local authorities (which, in order to +secure the maximum of convenience and administrative efficiency, +will probably control areas as large sometimes as half England), +they will generate electricity by water power, by combustion, by +wind or tide or whatever other natural force is available, and this +electricity will be devoted, some of it to the authority's lighting +and other public works, some of it, as a subsidy, to the +World-State authority which controls the high roads, the great +railways, the inns and other apparatus of world communication, and +the rest will pass on to private individuals or to distributing +companies at a uniform fixed rate for private lighting and heating, +for machinery and industrial applications of all sorts. Such an +arrangement of affairs will necessarily involve a vast amount of +book-keeping between the various authorities, the World-State +government and the customers, and this book-keeping will naturally +be done most conveniently in units of physical energy.</p> + +<p>It is not incredible that the assessment of the various local +administrations for the central world government would be already +calculated upon the estimated total of energy, periodically +available in each locality, and booked and spoken of in these +physical units. Accounts between central and local governments +could be kept in these terms. Moreover, one may imagine Utopian +local authorities making contracts in which payment would be no +longer in coinage upon the gold basis, but in notes good for so +many thousands or millions of units of energy at one or other of +the generating stations.</p> + +<p>Now the problems of economic theory will have undergone an +enormous clarification if, instead of measuring in fluctuating +money values, the same scale of energy units can be extended to +their discussion, if, in fact, the idea of trading could be +entirely eliminated. In my Utopia, at any rate, this has been done, +the production and distribution of common commodities have been +expressed as a problem in the conversion of energy, and the scheme +that Utopia was now discussing was the application of this idea of +energy as the standard of value to the entire Utopian coinage. +Every one of those giant local authorities was to be free to issue +energy notes against the security of its surplus of saleable +available energy, and to make all its contracts for payment in +those notes up to a certain maximum defined by the amount of energy +produced and disposed of in that locality in the previous year. +This power of issue was to be renewed just as rapidly as the notes +came in for redemption. In a world without boundaries, with a +population largely migratory and emancipated from locality, the +price of the energy notes of these various local bodies would +constantly tend to be uniform, because employment would constantly +shift into the areas where energy was cheap. Accordingly, the price +of so many millions of units of energy at any particular moment in +coins of the gold currency would be approximately the same +throughout the world. It was proposed to select some particular day +when the economic atmosphere was distinctly equable, and to declare +a fixed ratio between the gold coinage and the energy notes; each +gold Lion and each Lion of credit representing exactly the number +of energy units it could buy on that day. The old gold coinage was +at once to cease to be legal tender beyond certain defined limits, +except to the central government, which would not reissue it as it +came in. It was, in fact, to become a temporary token coinage, a +token coinage of full value for the day of conversion at any rate, +if not afterwards, under the new standard of energy, and to be +replaceable by an ordinary token coinage as time went on. The old +computation by Lions and the values of the small change of daily +life were therefore to suffer no disturbance whatever.</p> + +<p>The economists of Utopia, as I apprehended them, had a different +method and a very different system of theories from those I have +read on earth, and this makes my exposition considerably more +difficult. This article upon which I base my account floated before +me in an unfamiliar, perplexing, and dream-like phraseology. Yet I +brought away an impression that here was a rightness that earthly +economists have failed to grasp. Few earthly economists have been +able to disentangle themselves from patriotisms and politics, and +their obsession has always been international trade. Here in Utopia +the World State cuts that away from beneath their feet; there are +no imports but meteorites, and no exports at all. Trading is the +earthly economists' initial notion, and they start from perplexing +and insoluble riddles about exchange value, insoluble because all +trading finally involves individual preferences which are +incalculable and unique. Nowhere do they seem to be handling really +defined standards, every economic dissertation and discussion +reminds one more strongly than the last of the game of croquet +Alice played in Wonderland, when the mallets were flamingoes and +the balls were hedgehogs and crawled away, and the hoops were +soldiers and kept getting up and walking about. But economics in +Utopia must be, it seems to me, not a theory of trading based on +bad psychology, but physics applied to problems in the theory of +sociology. The general problem of Utopian economics is to state the +conditions of the most efficient application of the steadily +increasing quantities of material energy the progress of science +makes available for human service, to the general needs of mankind. +Human labour and existing material are dealt with in relation to +that. Trading and relative wealth are merely episodical in such a +scheme. The trend of the article I read, as I understood it, was +that a monetary system based upon a relatively small amount of +gold, upon which the business of the whole world had hitherto been +done, fluctuated unreasonably and supplied no real criterion of +well-being, that the nominal values of things and enterprises had +no clear and simple relation to the real physical prosperity of the +community, that the nominal wealth of a community in millions of +pounds or dollars or Lions, measured nothing but the quantity of +hope in the air, and an increase of confidence meant an inflation +of credit and a pessimistic phase a collapse of this hallucination +of possessions. The new standards, this advocate reasoned, were to +alter all that, and it seemed to me they would.</p> + +<p>I have tried to indicate the drift of these remarkable +proposals, but about them clustered an elaborate mass of keen and +temperate discussion. Into the details of that discussion I will +not enter now, nor am I sure I am qualified to render the +multitudinous aspect of this complicated question at all precisely. +I read the whole thing in the course of an hour or two of rest +after lunch—it was either the second or third day of my stay in +Utopia—and we were sitting in a little inn at the end of the Lake +of Uri. We had loitered there, and I had fallen reading because of +a shower of rain.... But certainly as I read it the proposition +struck me as a singularly simple and attractive one, and its +exposition opened out to me for the first time clearly, in a +comprehensive outline, the general conception of the economic +nature of the Utopian State.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 3</h4> + +<p>The difference between the social and economic sciences as they +exist in our world [Footnote: But see Gidding's <i>Principles of +Sociology</i>, a modern and richly suggestive American work, +imperfectly appreciated by the British student. See also Walter +Bagehot's <i>Economic Studies</i>.] and in this Utopia deserves +perhaps a word or so more. I write with the utmost diffidence, +because upon earth economic science has been raised to a very high +level of tortuous abstraction by the industry of its professors, +and I can claim neither a patient student's intimacy with their +productions nor—what is more serious—anything but the most +generalised knowledge of what their Utopian equivalents have +achieved. The vital nature of economic issues to a Utopia +necessitates, however, some attempt at interpretation between the +two.</p> + +<p>In Utopia there is no distinct and separate science of +economics. Many problems that we should regard as economic come +within the scope of Utopian psychology. My Utopians make two +divisions of the science of psychology, first, the general +psychology of individuals, a sort of mental physiology separated by +no definite line from physiology proper, and secondly, the +psychology of relationship between individuals. This second is an +exhaustive study of the reaction of people upon each other and of +all possible relationships. It is a science of human aggregations, +of all possible family groupings, of neighbours and neighbourhood, +of companies, associations, unions, secret and public societies, +religious groupings, of common ends and intercourse, and of the +methods of intercourse and collective decision that hold human +groups together, and finally of government and the State. The +elucidation of economic relationships, depending as it does on the +nature of the hypothesis of human aggregation actually in operation +at any time, is considered to be subordinate and subsequent to this +general science of Sociology. Political economy and economics, in +our world now, consist of a hopeless muddle of social assumptions +and preposterous psychology, and a few geographical and physical +generalisations. Its ingredients will be classified out and widely +separated in Utopian thought. On the one hand there will be the +study of physical economies, ending in the descriptive treatment of +society as an organisation for the conversion of all the available +energy in nature to the material ends of mankind—a physical +sociology which will be already at such a stage of practical +development as to be giving the world this token coinage +representing energy—and on the other there will be the study of +economic problems as problems in the division of labour, having +regard to a social organisation whose main ends are reproduction +and education in an atmosphere of personal freedom. Each of these +inquiries, working unencumbered by the other, will be continually +contributing fresh valid conclusions for the use of the practical +administrator.</p> + +<p>In no region of intellectual activity will our hypothesis of +freedom from tradition be of more value in devising a Utopia than +here. From its beginning the earthly study of economics has been +infertile and unhelpful, because of the mass of unanalysed and +scarcely suspected assumptions upon which it rested. The facts were +ignored that trade is a bye-product and not an essential factor in +social life, that property is a plastic and fluctuating convention, +that value is capable of impersonal treatment only in the case of +the most generalised requirements. Wealth was measured by the +standards of exchange. Society was regarded as a practically +unlimited number of avaricious adult units incapable of any other +subordinate groupings than business partnerships, and the sources +of competition were assumed to be inexhaustible. Upon such +quicksands rose an edifice that aped the securities of material +science, developed a technical jargon and professed the discovery +of “laws.” Our liberation from these false presumptions through the +rhetoric of Carlyle and Ruskin and the activities of the +Socialists, is more apparent than real. The old edifice oppresses +us still, repaired and altered by indifferent builders, underpinned +in places, and with a slight change of name. “Political Economy” +has been painted out, and instead we read “Economics—under +entirely new management.” Modern Economics differs mainly from old +Political Economy in having produced no Adam Smith. The old +“Political Economy” made certain generalisations, and they were +mostly wrong; new Economics evades generalisations, and seems to +lack the intellectual power to make them. The science hangs like a +gathering fog in a valley, a fog which begins nowhere and goes +nowhere, an incidental, unmeaning inconvenience to passers-by. Its +most typical exponents display a disposition to disavow +generalisations altogether, to claim consideration as “experts,” +and to make immediate political application of that conceded claim. +Now Newton, Darwin, Dalton, Davy, Joule, and Adam Smith did not +affect this “expert” hankey-pankey, becoming enough in a +hairdresser or a fashionable physician, but indecent in a +philosopher or a man of science. In this state of impotent +expertness, however, or in some equally unsound state, economics +must struggle on—a science that is no science, a floundering lore +wallowing in a mud of statistics—until either the study of the +material organisation of production on the one hand as a +development of physics and geography, or the study of social +aggregation on the other, renders enduring foundations +possible.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 4</h4> + +<p>The older Utopias were all relatively small states; Plato's +Republic, for example, was to be smaller than the average English +borough, and no distinction was made between the Family, the Local +Government, and the State. Plato and Campanella—for all that the +latter was a Christian priest—carried communism to its final point +and prescribed even a community of husbands and wives, an idea that +was brought at last to the test of effectual experiment in the +Oneida Community of New York State (1848-1879). This latter body +did not long survive its founder, at least as a veritable +communism, by reason of the insurgent individualism of its vigorous +sons. More, too, denied privacy and ruled an absolute community of +goods, at any rate, and so, coming to the Victorian Utopias, did +Cabet. But Cabet's communism was one of the “free store” type, and +the goods were yours only after you had requisitioned them. That +seems the case in the “Nowhere” of Morris also. Compared with the +older writers Bellamy and Morris have a vivid sense of individual +separation, and their departure from the old homogeneity is +sufficiently marked to justify a doubt whether there will be any +more thoroughly communistic Utopias for ever.</p> + +<p>A Utopia such as this present one, written in the opening of the +Twentieth Century, and after the most exhaustive discussion—nearly +a century long—between Communistic and Socialistic ideas on the +one hand, and Individualism on the other, emerges upon a sort of +effectual conclusion to those controversies. The two parties have +so chipped and amended each other's initial propositions that, +indeed, except for the labels still flutteringly adhesive to the +implicated men, it is hard to choose between them. Each side +established a good many propositions, and we profit by them all. We +of the succeeding generation can see quite clearly that for the +most part the heat and zeal of these discussions arose in the +confusion of a quantitative for a qualitative question. To the +onlooker, both Individualism and Socialism are, in the absolute, +absurdities; the one would make men the slaves of the violent or +rich, the other the slaves of the State official, and the way of +sanity runs, perhaps even sinuously, down the intervening valley. +Happily the dead past buries its dead, and it is not our function +now to adjudicate the preponderance of victory. In the very days +when our political and economic order is becoming steadily more +Socialistic, our ideals of intercourse turn more and more to a +fuller recognition of the claims of individuality. The State is to +be progressive, it is no longer to be static, and this alters the +general condition of the Utopian problem profoundly; we have to +provide not only for food and clothing, for order and health, but +for initiative. The factor that leads the World State on from one +phase of development to the next is the interplay of +individualities; to speak teleologically, the world exists for the +sake of and through initiative, and individuality is the method of +initiative. Each man and woman, to the extent that his or her +individuality is marked, breaks the law of precedent, transgresses +the general formula, and makes a new experiment for the direction +of the life force. It is impossible, therefore, for the State, +which represents all and is preoccupied by the average, to make +effectual experiments and intelligent innovations, and so supply +the essential substance of life. As against the individual the +state represents the species, in the case of the Utopian World +State it absolutely represents the species. The individual emerges +from the species, makes his experiment, and either fails, dies, and +comes to an end, or succeeds and impresses himself in offspring, in +consequences and results, intellectual, material and moral, upon +the world.</p> + +<p>Biologically the species is the accumulation of the experiments +of all its successful individuals since the beginning, and the +World State of the Modern Utopist will, in its economic aspect, be +a compendium of established economic experience, about which +individual enterprise will be continually experimenting, either to +fail and pass, or to succeed and at last become incorporated with +the undying organism of the World State. This organism is the +universal rule, the common restriction, the rising level platform +on which individualities stand.</p> + +<p>The World State in this ideal presents itself as the sole +landowner of the earth, with the great local governments I have +adumbrated, the local municipalities, holding, as it were, feudally +under it as landlords. The State or these subordinates holds all +the sources of energy, and either directly or through its tenants, +farmers and agents, develops these sources, and renders the energy +available for the work of life. It or its tenants will produce +food, and so human energy, and the exploitation of coal and +electric power, and the powers of wind and wave and water will be +within its right. It will pour out this energy by assignment and +lease and acquiescence and what not upon its individual citizens. +It will maintain order, maintain roads, maintain a cheap and +efficient administration of justice, maintain cheap and rapid +locomotion and be the common carrier of the planet, convey and +distribute labour, control, let, or administer all natural +productions, pay for and secure healthy births and a healthy and +vigorous new generation, maintain the public health, coin money and +sustain standards of measurement, subsidise research, and reward +such commercially unprofitable undertakings as benefit the +community as a whole; subsidise when needful chairs of criticism +and authors and publications, and collect and distribute +information. The energy developed and the employment afforded by +the State will descend like water that the sun has sucked out of +the sea to fall upon a mountain range, and back to the sea again it +will come at last, debouching in ground rent and royalty and +license fees, in the fees of travellers and profits upon carrying +and coinage and the like, in death duty, transfer tax, legacy and +forfeiture, returning to the sea. Between the clouds and the sea it +will run, as a river system runs, down through a great region of +individual enterprise and interplay, whose freedom it will sustain. +In that intermediate region between the kindred heights and deeps +those beginnings and promises will arise that are the essential +significance, the essential substance, of life. From our human +point of view the mountains and sea are for the habitable lands +that lie between. So likewise the State is for Individualities. The +State is for Individuals, the law is for freedoms, the world is for +experiment, experience, and change: these are the fundamental +beliefs upon which a modern Utopia must go.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 5</h4> + +<p>Within this scheme, which makes the State the source of all +energy, and the final legatee, what will be the nature of the +property a man may own? Under modern conditions—indeed, under any +conditions—a man without some negotiable property is a man without +freedom, and the extent of his property is very largely the measure +of his freedom. Without any property, without even shelter or food, +a man has no choice but to set about getting these things; he is in +servitude to his needs until he has secured property to satisfy +them. But with a certain small property a man is free to do many +things, to take a fortnight's holiday when he chooses, for example, +and to try this new departure from his work or that; with so much +more, he may take a year of freedom and go to the ends of the +earth; with so much more, he may obtain elaborate apparatus and try +curious novelties, build himself houses and make gardens, establish +businesses and make experiments at large. Very speedily, under +terrestrial conditions, the property of a man may reach such +proportions that his freedom oppresses the freedom of others. Here, +again, is a quantitative question, an adjustment of conflicting +freedoms, a quantitative question that too many people insist on +making a qualitative one.</p> + +<p>The object sought in the code of property laws that one would +find in operation in Utopia would be the same object that pervades +the whole Utopian organisation, namely, a universal maximum of +individual freedom. Whatever far-reaching movements the State or +great rich men or private corporations may make, the starvation by +any complication of employment, the unwilling deportation, the +destruction of alternatives to servile submissions, must not ensue. +Beyond such qualifications, the object of Modern Utopian +statesmanship will be to secure to a man the freedom given by all +his legitimate property, that is to say, by all the values his toil +or skill or foresight and courage have brought into being. Whatever +he has justly made he has a right to keep, that is obvious enough; +but he will also have a right to sell and exchange, and so this +question of what may be property takes really the form of what may +a man buy in Utopia?</p> + +<p>A modern Utopian most assuredly must have a practically +unqualified property in all those things that become, as it were, +by possession, extensions and expressions of his personality; his +clothing, his jewels, the tools of his employment, his books, the +objects of art he may have bought or made, his personal weapons (if +Utopia have need of such things), insignia, and so forth. All such +things that he has bought with his money or acquired—provided he +is not a professional or habitual dealer in such property—will be +inalienably his, his to give or lend or keep, free even from +taxation. So intimate is this sort of property that I have no doubt +Utopia will give a man posthumous rights over it—will permit him +to assign it to a successor with at the utmost the payment of a +small redemption. A horse, perhaps, in certain districts, or a +bicycle, or any such mechanical conveyance personally used, the +Utopians might find it well to rank with these possessions. No +doubt, too, a house and privacy owned and occupied by a man, and +even a man's own household furniture, might be held to stand as +high or almost as high in the property scale, might be taxed as +lightly and transferred under only a slightly heavier redemption, +provided he had not let these things on hire, or otherwise +alienated them from his intimate self. A thorough-going, Democratic +Socialist will no doubt be inclined at first to object that if the +Utopians make these things a specially free sort of property in +this way, men would spend much more upon them than they would +otherwise do, but indeed that will be an excellent thing. We are +too much affected by the needy atmosphere of our own mismanaged +world. In Utopia no one will have to hunger because some love to +make and have made and own and cherish beautiful things. To give +this much of property to individuals will tend to make clothing, +ornamentation, implements, books, and all the arts finer and more +beautiful, because by buying such things a man will secure +something inalienable—save in the case of bankruptcy—for himself +and for those who belong to him. Moreover, a man may in his +lifetime set aside sums to ensure special advantages of education +and care for the immature children of himself and others, and in +this manner also exercise a posthumous right. [Footnote: But a +Statute of Mortmain will set a distinct time limit to the +continuance of such benefactions. A periodic revision of endowments +is a necessary feature in any modern Utopia.]</p> + +<p>For all other property, the Utopians will have a scantier +respect; even money unspent by a man, and debts to him that bear no +interest, will at his death stand upon a lower level than these +things. What he did not choose to gather and assimilate to himself, +or assign for the special education of his children, the State will +share in the lion's proportion with heir and legatee.</p> + +<p>This applies, for example, to the property that a man creates +and acquires in business enterprises, which are presumably +undertaken for gain, and as a means of living rather than for +themselves. All new machinery, all new methods, all uncertain and +variable and non-universal undertakings, are no business for the +State; they commence always as experiments of unascertained value, +and next after the invention of money, there is no invention has so +facilitated freedom and progress as the invention of the limited +liability company to do this work of trial and adventure. The +abuses, the necessary reforms of company law on earth, are no +concern of ours here and now, suffice it that in a Modern Utopia +such laws must be supposed to be as perfect as mortal laws can +possibly be made. <i>Caveat vendor</i> will be a sound +qualification of <i>Caveat emptor</i> in the beautifully codified +Utopian law. Whether the Utopian company will be allowed to prefer +this class of share to that or to issue debentures, whether indeed +usury, that is to say lending money at fixed rates of interest, +will be permitted at all in Utopia, one may venture to doubt. But +whatever the nature of the shares a man may hold, they will all be +sold at his death, and whatever he has not clearly assigned for +special educational purposes will—with possibly some fractional +concession to near survivors—lapse to the State. The “safe +investment,” that permanent, undying claim upon the community, is +just one of those things Utopia will discourage; which indeed the +developing security of civilisation quite automatically discourages +through the fall in the rate of interest. As we shall see at a +later stage, the State will insure the children of every citizen, +and those legitimately dependent upon him, against the +inconvenience of his death; it will carry out all reasonable +additional dispositions he may have made for them in the same +event; and it will insure him against old age and infirmity; and +the object of Utopian economics will be to give a man every +inducement to spend his surplus money in intensifying the quality +of his surroundings, either by economic adventures and experiments, +which may yield either losses or large profits, or in increasing +the beauty, the pleasure, the abundance and promise of life.</p> + +<p>Besides strictly personal possessions and shares in business +adventures, Utopia will no doubt permit associations of its +citizens to have a property in various sorts of contracts and +concessions, in leases of agricultural and other land, for example; +in houses they may have built, factories and machinery they may +have made, and the like. And if a citizen prefer to adventure into +business single-handed, he will have all the freedoms of enterprise +enjoyed by a company; in business affairs he will be a company of +one, and his single share will be dealt with at his death like any +other shares.... So much for the second kind of property. And these +two kinds of property will probably exhaust the sorts of property a +Utopian may possess.</p> + +<p>The trend of modern thought is entirely against private property +in land or natural objects or products, and in Utopia these things +will be the inalienable property of the World State. Subject to the +rights of free locomotion, land will be leased out to companies or +individuals, but—in view of the unknown necessities of the +future—never for a longer period than, let us say, fifty +years.</p> + +<p>The property of a parent in his children, and of a husband in +his wife, seems to be undergoing a steadily increasing +qualification in the world of to-day, but the discussion of the +Utopian state of affairs in regard to such property may be better +reserved until marriage becomes our topic. Suffice it here to +remark, that the increasing control of a child's welfare and +upbringing by the community, and the growing disposition to limit +and tax inheritance are complementary aspects of the general +tendency to regard the welfare and free intraplay of future +generations no longer as the concern of parents and altruistic +individuals, but as the predominant issue of statesmanship, and the +duty and moral meaning of the world community as a whole.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 6</h4> + +<p>From the conception of mechanical force as coming in from Nature +to the service of man, a conception the Utopian proposal of a +coinage based on energy units would emphasise, arise profound +contrasts between the modern and the classical Utopias. Except for +a meagre use of water power for milling, and the wind for +sailing—so meagre in the latter case that the classical world +never contrived to do without the galley slave—and a certain +restricted help from oxen in ploughing, and from horses in +locomotion, all the energy that sustained the old-fashioned State +was derived from the muscular exertion of toiling men. They ran +their world by hand. Continual bodily labour was a condition of +social existence. It is only with the coming of coal burning, of +abundant iron and steel, and of scientific knowledge that this +condition has been changed. To-day, I suppose, if it were possible +to indicate, in units of energy, the grand total of work upon which +the social fabric of the United States or England rests, it would +be found that a vastly preponderating moiety is derived from +non-human sources, from coal and liquid fuel, and explosives and +wind and water. There is every indication of a steady increase in +this proportion of mechanical energy, in this emancipation of men +from the necessity of physical labour. There appears no limit to +the invasion of life by the machine.</p> + +<p>Now it is only in the last three hundred years that any human +being seems to have anticipated this. It stimulates the imagination +to remark how entirely it was overlooked as a modifying cause in +human development. [Footnote: It is interesting to note how little +even Bacon seems to see of this, in his <i>New Atlantis</i>.] Plato +clearly had no ideas about machines at all as a force affecting +social organisation. There was nothing in his world to suggest them +to him. I suppose there arose no invention, no new mechanical +appliance or method of the slightest social importance through all +his length of years. He never thought of a State that did not rely +for its force upon human muscle, just as he never thought of a +State that was not primarily organised for warfare hand to hand. +Political and moral inventions he saw enough of and to spare, and +in that direction he still stimulates the imagination. But in +regard to all material possibilities he deadens rather than +stimulates. [Footnote: The lost Utopia of Hippodamus provided +rewards for inventors, but unless Aristotle misunderstood him, and +it is certainly the fate of all Utopias to be more or less misread, +the inventions contemplated were political devices.] An infinitude +of nonsense about the Greek mind would never have been written if +the distinctive intellectual and artistic quality of Plato's time, +its extraordinarily clear definition of certain material conditions +as absolutely permanent, coupled with its politico-social +instability, had been borne in mind. The food of the Greek +imagination was the very antithesis of our own nourishment. We are +educated by our circumstances to think no revolution in appliances +and economic organisation incredible, our minds play freely about +possibilities that would have struck the men of the Academy as +outrageous extravagance, and it is in regard to politico-social +expedients that our imaginations fail. Sparta, for all the evidence +of history, is scarcely more credible to us than a motor-car +throbbing in the agora would have been to Socrates.</p> + +<p>By sheer inadvertence, therefore, Plato commenced the tradition +of Utopias without machinery, a tradition we find Morris still +loyally following, except for certain mechanical barges and +such-like toys, in his <i>News from Nowhere</i>. There are some +foreshadowings of mechanical possibilities in the <i>New +Atlantis</i>, but it is only in the nineteenth century that Utopias +appeared in which the fact is clearly recognised that the social +fabric rests no longer upon human labour. It was, I believe, Cabet +[Footnote: Cabet, <i>Voyage en Icarie</i>, 1848.] who first in a +Utopian work insisted upon the escape of man from irksome labours +through the use of machinery. He is the great primitive of modern +Utopias, and Bellamy is his American equivalent. Hitherto, either +slave labour (Phaleas), [Footnote: Aristotle's <i>Politics</i>, Bk. +II., Ch. VIII.] or at least class distinctions involving +unavoidable labour in the lower class, have been assumed—as Plato +does, and as Bacon in the <i>New Atlantis</i> probably intended to +do (More gave his Utopians bondsmen <i>sans phrase</i> for their +most disagreeable toil); or there is—as in Morris and the outright +Return-to-Nature Utopians—a bold make-believe that all toil may be +made a joy, and with that a levelling down of all society to an +equal participation in labour. But indeed this is against all the +observed behaviour of mankind. It needed the Olympian unworldliness +of an irresponsible rich man of the shareholding type, a Ruskin or +a Morris playing at life, to imagine as much. Road-making under Mr. +Ruskin's auspices was a joy at Oxford no doubt, and a distinction, +and it still remains a distinction; it proved the least contagious +of practices. And Hawthorne did not find bodily toil anything more +than the curse the Bible says it is, at Brook Farm. [Footnote: +<i>The Blythedale Experiment</i>, and see also his Notebook.]</p> + +<p>If toil is a blessing, never was blessing so effectually +disguised, and the very people who tell us that, hesitate to +suggest more than a beautiful ease in the endless day of Heaven. A +certain amount of bodily or mental exercise, a considerable amount +of doing things under the direction of one's free imagination is +quite another matter. Artistic production, for example, when it is +at its best, when a man is freely obeying himself, and not +troubling to please others, is really not toil at all. It is quite +a different thing digging potatoes, as boys say, “for a lark,” and +digging them because otherwise you will starve, digging them day +after day as a dull, unavoidable imperative. The essence of toil is +that imperative, and the fact that the attention <i>must</i> cramp +itself to the work in hand—that it excludes freedom, and not that +it involves fatigue. So long as anything but a quasi-savage life +depended upon toil, so long was it hopeless to expect mankind to do +anything but struggle to confer just as much of this blessing as +possible upon one another. But now that the new conditions physical +science is bringing about, not only dispense with man as a source +of energy but supply the hope that all routine work may be made +automatic, it is becoming conceivable that presently there may be +no need for anyone to toil habitually at all; that a labouring +class—that is to say, a class of workers without personal +initiative—will become unnecessary to the world of men.</p> + +<p>The plain message physical science has for the world at large is +this, that were our political and social and moral devices only as +well contrived to their ends as a linotype machine, an antiseptic +operating plant, or an electric tram-car, there need now at the +present moment be no appreciable toil in the world, and only the +smallest fraction of the pain, the fear, and the anxiety that now +makes human life so doubtful in its value. There is more than +enough for everyone alive. Science stands, a too competent servant, +behind her wrangling underbred masters, holding out resources, +devices, and remedies they are too stupid to use. [Footnote: See +that most suggestive little book, <i>Twentieth Century +Inventions</i>, by Mr. George Sutherland.] And on its material side +a modern Utopia must needs present these gifts as taken, and show a +world that is really abolishing the need of labour, abolishing the +last base reason for anyone's servitude or inferiority.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 7</h4> + +<p>The effectual abolition of a labouring and servile class will +make itself felt in every detail of the inn that will shelter us, +of the bedrooms we shall occupy. You conceive my awakening to all +these things on the morning after our arrival. I shall lie for a +minute or so with my nose peeping over the coverlet, agreeably and +gently coming awake, and with some vague nightmare of sitting at a +common table with an unavoidable dustman in green and gold called +Boffin, [Footnote: <i>Vide</i> William Morris's <i>News from +Nowhere</i>.] fading out of my mind. Then I should start up. You +figure my apprehensive, startled inspection of my chamber. “Where +am I?” that classic phrase, recurs. Then I perceive quite clearly +that I am in bed in Utopia.</p> + +<p>Utopia! The word is enough to bring anyone out of bed, to the +nearest window, but thence I see no more than the great mountain +mass behind the inn, a very terrestrial looking mountain mass. I +return to the contrivances about me, and make my examination as I +dress, pausing garment in hand to hover over first this thing of +interest and then that.</p> + +<p>The room is, of course, very clear and clean and simple; not by +any means cheaply equipped, but designed to economise the labour of +redding and repair just as much as is possible. It is beautifully +proportioned, and rather lower than most rooms I know on earth. +There is no fireplace, and I am perplexed by that until I find a +thermometer beside six switches on the wall. Above this +switch-board is a brief instruction: one switch warms the floor, +which is not carpeted, but covered by a substance like soft +oilcloth; one warms the mattress (which is of metal with resistance +coils threaded to and fro in it); and the others warm the wall in +various degrees, each directing current through a separate system +of resistances. The casement does not open, but above, flush with +the ceiling, a noiseless rapid fan pumps air out of the room. The +air enters by a Tobin shaft. There is a recess dressing-room, +equipped with a bath and all that is necessary to one's toilette, +and the water, one remarks, is warmed, if one desires it warm, by +passing it through an electrically heated spiral of tubing. A cake +of soap drops out of a store machine on the turn of a handle, and +when you have done with it, you drop that and your soiled towels +and so forth, which also are given you by machines, into a little +box, through the bottom of which they drop at once, and sail down a +smooth shaft. A little notice tells you the price of your room, and +you gather the price is doubled if you do not leave the toilette as +you found it. Beside the bed, and to be lit at night by a handy +switch over the pillow, is a little clock, its face flush with the +wall. The room has no corners to gather dirt, wall meets floor with +a gentle curve, and the apartment could be swept out effectually by +a few strokes of a mechanical sweeper. The door frames and window +frames are of metal, rounded and impervious to draught. You are +politely requested to turn a handle at the foot of your bed before +leaving the room, and forthwith the frame turns up into a vertical +position, and the bedclothes hang airing. You stand at the doorway +and realise that there remains not a minute's work for anyone to +do. Memories of the fœtid disorder of many an earthly bedroom +after a night's use float across your mind.</p> + +<p>And you must not imagine this dustless, spotless, sweet +apartment as anything but beautiful. Its appearance is a little +unfamiliar of course, but all the muddle of dust-collecting +hangings and witless ornament that cover the earthly bedroom, the +valances, the curtains to check the draught from the ill-fitting +wood windows, the worthless irrelevant pictures, usually a little +askew, the dusty carpets, and all the paraphernalia about the +dirty, black-leaded fireplace are gone. But the faintly tinted +walls are framed with just one clear coloured line, as finely +placed as the member of a Greek capital; the door handles and the +lines of the panels of the door, the two chairs, the framework of +the bed, the writing table, have all that final simplicity, that +exquisite finish of contour that is begotten of sustained artistic +effort. The graciously shaped windows each frame a picture—since +they are draughtless the window seats are no mere mockeries as are +the window seats of earth—and on the sill, the sole thing to need +attention in the room, is one little bowl of blue Alpine +flowers.</p> + +<p>The same exquisite simplicity meets one downstairs.</p> + +<p>Our landlord sits down at table with us for a moment, and seeing +we do not understand the electrically heated coffee-pot before us, +shows us what to do. Coffee and milk we have, in the Continental +fashion, and some excellent rolls and butter.</p> + +<p>He is a swarthy little man, our landlord, and overnight we saw +him preoccupied with other guests. But we have risen either late or +early by Utopian standards, we know not which, and this morning he +has us to himself. His bearing is kindly and inoffensive, but he +cannot conceal the curiosity that possesses him. His eye meets ours +with a mute inquiry, and then as we fall to, we catch him +scrutinising our cuffs, our garments, our boots, our faces, our +table manners. He asks nothing at first, but says a word or so +about our night's comfort and the day's weather, phrases that have +an air of being customary. Then comes a silence that is +interrogative.</p> + +<p>“Excellent coffee,” I say to fill the gap.</p> + +<p>“And excellent rolls,” says my botanist.</p> + +<p>Our landlord indicates his sense of our approval.</p> + +<p>A momentary diversion is caused by the entry of an elfin-tressed +little girl, who stares at us half impudently, half shyly, with +bright black eyes, hesitates at the botanist's clumsy smile and +nod, and then goes and stands by her father and surveys us +steadfastly.</p> + +<p>“You have come far?” ventures our landlord, patting his +daughter's shoulder.</p> + +<p>I glance at the botanist. “Yes,” I say, “we have.”</p> + +<p>I expand. “We have come so far that this country of yours seems +very strange indeed to us.”</p> + +<p>“The mountains?”</p> + +<p>“Not only the mountains.”</p> + +<p>“You came up out of the Ticino valley?”</p> + +<p>“No—not that way.”</p> + +<p>“By the Oberalp?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“The Furka?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Not up from the lake?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>He looks puzzled.</p> + +<p>“We came,” I say, “from another world.”</p> + +<p>He seems trying to understand. Then a thought strikes him, and +he sends away his little girl with a needless message to her +mother.</p> + +<p>“Ah!” he says. “Another world—eh? Meaning―?”</p> + +<p>“Another world—far in the deeps of space.”</p> + +<p>Then at the expression of his face one realises that a Modern +Utopia will probably keep its more intelligent citizens for better +work than inn-tending. He is evidently inaccessible to the idea we +think of putting before him. He stares at us a moment, and then +remarks, “There's the book to sign.”</p> + +<p>We find ourselves confronted with a book, a little after the +fashion of the familiar hotel visitors' book of earth. He places +this before us, and beside it puts pen and ink and a slab, upon +which ink has been freshly smeared.</p> + +<p>“Thumbmarks,” says my scientific friend hastily in English.</p> + +<p>“You show me how to do it,” I say as quickly.</p> + +<p>He signs first, and I look over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>He is displaying more readiness than I should have expected. The +book is ruled in broad transverse lines, and has a space for a +name, for a number, and a thumbmark. He puts his thumb upon the +slab and makes the thumbmark first with the utmost deliberation. +Meanwhile he studies the other two entries. The “numbers” of the +previous guests above are complex muddles of letters and figures. +He writes his name, then with a calm assurance writes down his +number, A.M.a.1607.2.αβ⊕. I am wrung with momentary +admiration. I follow his example, and fabricate an equally imposing +signature. We think ourselves very clever. The landlord proffers +finger bowls for our thumbs, and his eye goes, just a little +curiously, to our entries.</p> + +<p>I decide it is advisable to pay and go before any conversation +about our formulæ arises.</p> + +<p>As we emerge into the corridor, and the morning sunlight of the +Utopian world, I see the landlord bending over the book.</p> + +<p>“Come on,” I say. “The most tiresome thing in the world is +explanations, and I perceive that if we do not get along, they will +fall upon us now.”</p> + +<p>I glance back to discover the landlord and a gracefully robed +woman standing outside the pretty simplicity of the Utopian inn, +watching us doubtfully as we recede.</p> + +<p>“Come on,” I insist.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 8</h4> + +<p>We should go towards the Schoellenen gorge, and as we went, our +fresh morning senses would gather together a thousand factors for +our impression of this more civilised world. A Modern Utopia will +have done with yapping about nationality, and so the ugly +fortifications, the barracks and military defilements of the +earthly vale of Urseren will be wanting. Instead there will be a +great multitude of gracious little houses clustering in +college-like groups, no doubt about their common kitchens and +halls, down and about the valley slopes. And there will be many +more trees, and a great variety of trees—all the world will have +been ransacked for winter conifers. Despite the height of the +valley there will be a double avenue along the road. This high road +with its tramway would turn with us to descend the gorge, and we +should hesitate upon the adventure of boarding the train. But now +we should have the memory of our landlord's curious eye upon us, +and we should decide at last to defer the risk of explanations such +an enterprise might precipitate.</p> + +<p>We should go by the great road for a time, and note something of +the difference between Utopian and terrestrial engineering.</p> + +<p>The tramway, the train road, the culverts, and bridges, the +Urnerloch tunnel, into which the road plunges, will all be +beautiful things.</p> + +<p>There is nothing in machinery, there is nothing in embankments +and railways and iron bridges and engineering devices to oblige +them to be ugly. Ugliness is the measure of imperfection; a thing +of human making is for the most part ugly in proportion to the +poverty of its constructive thought, to the failure of its producer +fully to grasp the purpose of its being. Everything to which men +continue to give thought and attention, which they make and remake +in the same direction, and with a continuing desire to do as well +as they can, grows beautiful inevitably. Things made by mankind +under modern conditions are ugly, primarily because our social +organisation is ugly, because we live in an atmosphere of snatch +and uncertainty, and do everything in an underbred strenuous +manner. This is the misfortune of machinery, and not its fault. +Art, like some beautiful plant, lives on its atmosphere, and when +the atmosphere is good, it will grow everywhere, and when it is bad +nowhere. If we smashed and buried every machine, every furnace, +every factory in the world, and without any further change set +ourselves to home industries, hand labour, spade husbandry, +sheep-folding and pig minding, we should still do things in the +same haste, and achieve nothing but dirtiness, inconvenience, bad +air, and another gaunt and gawky reflection of our intellectual and +moral disorder. We should mend nothing.</p> + +<p>But in Utopia a man who designs a tram road will be a cultivated +man, an artist craftsman; he will strive, as a good writer, or a +painter strives, to achieve the simplicity of perfection. He will +make his girders and rails and parts as gracious as that first +engineer, Nature, has made the stems of her plants and the joints +and gestures of her animals. To esteem him a sort of anti-artist, +to count every man who makes things with his unaided thumbs an +artist, and every man who uses machinery as a brute, is merely a +passing phase of human stupidity. This tram road beside us will be +a triumph of design. The idea will be so unfamiliar to us that for +a time it will not occur to us that it is a system of beautiful +objects at all. We shall admire its ingenious adaptation to the +need of a district that is buried half the year in snow, the hard +bed below, curved and guttered to do its own clearing, the great +arched sleeper masses, raising the rails a good two yards above the +ground, the easy, simple standards and insulators. Then it will +creep in upon our minds, “But, by Jove! <i>This is +designed!</i>”</p> + +<p>Indeed the whole thing will be designed.</p> + +<p>Later on, perhaps, we may find students in an art school working +in competition to design an electric tram, students who know +something of modern metallurgy, and something of electrical +engineering, and we shall find people as keenly critical of a +signal box or an iron bridge as they are on earth of―! Heavens! +what <i>are</i> they critical about on earth?</p> + +<p>The quality and condition of a dress tie!</p> + +<p>We should make some unpatriotic comparisons with our own planet, +no doubt.</p> + +<h3 align="center">CHAPTER THE FOURTH<br> +The Voice of Nature</h3> + +<h4 align="center">§ 1</h4> + +<p>Presently we recognise the fellow of the earthly Devil's Bridge, +still intact as a footway, spanning the gorge, and old memories +turn us off the road down the steep ruin of an ancient mule track +towards it. It is our first reminder that Utopia too must have a +history. We cross it and find the Reuss, for all that it has +already lit and warmed and ventilated and cleaned several thousands +of houses in the dale above, and for all that it drives those easy +trams in the gallery overhead, is yet capable of as fine a cascade +as ever it flung on earth. So we come to a rocky path, wild as one +could wish, and descend, discoursing how good and fair an ordered +world may be, but with a certain unformulated qualification in our +minds about those thumb marks we have left behind.</p> + +<p>“Do you recall the Zermatt valley?” says my friend, “and how on +earth it reeks and stinks with smoke?”</p> + +<p>“People make that an argument for obstructing change, instead of +helping it forward!”</p> + +<p>And here perforce an episode intrudes. We are invaded by a +talkative person.</p> + +<p>He overtakes us and begins talking forthwith in a fluty, but not +unamiable, tenor. He is a great talker, this man, and a fairly +respectable gesticulator, and to him it is we make our first +ineffectual tentatives at explaining who indeed we are; but his +flow of talk washes that all away again. He has a face of that +rubicund, knobby type I have heard an indignant mineralogist speak +of as botryoidal, and about it waves a quantity of disorderly blond +hair. He is dressed in leather doublet and knee breeches, and he +wears over these a streaming woollen cloak of faded crimson that +give him a fine dramatic outline as he comes down towards us over +the rocks. His feet, which are large and handsome, but bright pink +with the keen morning air, are bare, except for sandals of leather. +(It was the only time that we saw anyone in Utopia with bare feet.) +He salutes us with a scroll-like waving of his stick, and falls in +with our slower paces.</p> + +<p>“Climbers, I presume?” he says, “and you scorn these trams of +theirs? I like you. So do I! Why a man should consent to be dealt +with as a bale of goods holding an indistinctive ticket—when God +gave him legs and a face—passes my understanding.”</p> + +<p>As he speaks, his staff indicates the great mechanical road that +runs across the gorge and high overhead through a gallery in the +rock, follows it along until it turns the corner, picks it up as a +viaduct far below, traces it until it plunges into an arcade +through a jutting crag, and there dismisses it with a spiral whirl. +“<i>No!</i>” he says.</p> + +<p>He seems sent by Providence, for just now we had been discussing +how we should broach our remarkable situation to these Utopians +before our money is spent.</p> + +<p>Our eyes meet, and I gather from the botanist that I am to open +our case.</p> + +<p>I do my best.</p> + +<p>“You came from the other side of space!” says the man in the +crimson cloak, interrupting me. “Precisely! I like that—it's +exactly my note! So do I! And you find this world strange! Exactly +my case! We are brothers! We shall be in sympathy. I am amazed, I +have been amazed as long as I can remember, and I shall die, most +certainly, in a state of incredulous amazement, at this remarkable +world. Eh?... You found yourselves suddenly upon a mountain top! +Fortunate men!” He chuckled. “For my part I found myself in the +still stranger position of infant to two parents of the most +intractable dispositions!”</p> + +<p>“The fact remains,” I protest.</p> + +<p>“A position, I can assure you, demanding Tact of an altogether +superhuman quality!”</p> + +<p>We desist for a space from the attempt to explain our remarkable +selves, and for the rest of the time this picturesque and +exceptional Utopian takes the talk entirely under his +control....</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 2</h4> + +<p>An agreeable person, though a little distracting, he was, and he +talked, we recall, of many things. He impressed us, we found +afterwards, as a <i>poseur</i> beyond question, a conscious +Ishmaelite in the world of wit, and in some subtly inexplicable way +as a most consummate ass. He talked first of the excellent and +commodious trams that came from over the passes, and ran down the +long valley towards middle Switzerland, and of all the growth of +pleasant homes and châlets amidst the heights that made the +opening gorge so different from its earthly parallel, with a fine +disrespect. “But they are beautiful,” I protested. “They are +graciously proportioned, they are placed in well-chosen positions; +they give no offence to the eye.”</p> + +<p>“What do we know of the beauty they replace? They are a mere +rash. Why should we men play the part of bacteria upon the face of +our Mother?”</p> + +<p>“All life is that!”</p> + +<p>“No! not natural life, not the plants and the gentle creatures +that live their wild shy lives in forest and jungle. That is a part +of her. That is the natural bloom of her complexion. But these +houses and tramways and things, all made from ore and stuff torn +from her veins―! You can't better my image of the rash. It's a +morbid breaking out! I'd give it all for one—what is it?—free and +natural chamois.”</p> + +<p>“You live at times in a house?” I asked.</p> + +<p>He ignored my question. For him, untroubled Nature was the best, +he said, and, with a glance at his feet, the most beautiful. He +professed himself a Nazarite, and shook back his Teutonic poet's +shock of hair. So he came to himself, and for the rest of our walk +he kept to himself as the thread of his discourse, and went over +himself from top to toe, and strung thereon all topics under the +sun by way of illustrating his splendours. But especially his foil +was the relative folly, the unnaturalness and want of logic in his +fellow men. He held strong views about the extreme simplicity of +everything, only that men, in their muddle-headedness, had +confounded it all. “Hence, for example, these trams! They are +always running up and down as though they were looking for the lost +simplicity of nature. ‘We dropped it here!’” He earned a living, we +gathered, “some considerable way above the minimum wage,” which +threw a chance light on the labour problem—by perforating records +for automatic musical machines—no doubt of the Pianotist and +Pianola kind—and he spent all the leisure he could gain in going +to and fro in the earth lecturing on “The Need of a Return to +Nature,” and on “Simple Foods and Simple Ways.” He did it for the +love of it. It was very clear to us he had an inordinate impulse to +lecture, and esteemed us fair game. He had been lecturing on these +topics in Italy, and he was now going back through the mountains to +lecture in Saxony, lecturing on the way, to perforate a lot more +records, lecturing the while, and so start out lecturing again. He +was undisguisedly glad to have us to lecture to by the way.</p> + +<p>He called our attention to his costume at an early stage. It was +the embodiment of his ideal of Nature-clothing, and it had been +made especially for him at very great cost. “Simply because +naturalness has fled the earth, and has to be sought now, and +washed out from your crushed complexities like gold.”</p> + +<p>“I should have thought,” said I, “that any clothing whatever was +something of a slight upon the natural man.”</p> + +<p>“Not at all,” said he, “not at all! You forget his natural +vanity!”</p> + +<p>He was particularly severe on our artificial hoofs, as he called +our boots, and our hats or hair destructors. “Man is the real King +of Beasts and should wear a mane. The lion only wears it by consent +and in captivity.” He tossed his head.</p> + +<p>Subsequently while we lunched and he waited for the specific +natural dishes he ordered—they taxed the culinary resources of the +inn to the utmost—he broached a comprehensive generalisation. “The +animal kingdom and the vegetable kingdom are easily distinguished, +and for the life of me I see no reason for confusing them. It is, I +hold, a sin against Nature. I keep them distinct in my mind and I +keep them distinct in my person. No animal substance inside, no +vegetable without;—what could be simpler or more logical? Nothing +upon me but leather and allwool garments, within, cereals, fruit, +nuts, herbs, and the like. Classification—order—man's function. +He is here to observe and accentuate Nature's simplicity. These +people”—he swept an arm that tried not too personally to include +us—“are filled and covered with confusion.”</p> + +<p>He ate great quantities of grapes and finished with a cigarette. +He demanded and drank a great horn of unfermented grape juice, and +it seemed to suit him well.</p> + +<p>We three sat about the board—it was in an agreeable little +arbour on a hill hard by the place where Wassen stands on earth, +and it looked down the valley to the Uri Rothstock, and ever and +again we sought to turn his undeniable gift of exposition to the +elucidation of our own difficulties.</p> + +<p>But we seemed to get little, his style was so elusive. +Afterwards, indeed, we found much information and many persuasions +had soaked into us, but at the time it seemed to us he told us +nothing. He indicated things by dots and dashes, instead of by good +hard assertive lines. He would not pause to see how little we knew. +Sometimes his wit rose so high that he would lose sight of it +himself, and then he would pause, purse his lips as if he whistled, +and then till the bird came back to the lure, fill his void mouth +with grapes. He talked of the relations of the sexes, and love—a +passion he held in great contempt as being in its essence complex +and disingenuous—and afterwards we found we had learnt much of +what the marriage laws of Utopia allow and forbid.</p> + +<p>“A simple natural freedom,” he said, waving a grape in an +illustrative manner, and so we gathered the Modern Utopia did not +at any rate go to that. He spoke, too, of the regulation of unions, +of people who were not allowed to have children, of complicated +rules and interventions. “Man,” he said, “had ceased to be a +natural product!”</p> + +<p>We tried to check him with questions at this most illuminating +point, but he drove on like a torrent, and carried his topic out of +sight. The world, he held, was overmanaged, and that was the root +of all evil. He talked of the overmanagement of the world, and +among other things of the laws that would not let a poor simple +idiot, a “natural,” go at large. And so we had our first glimpse of +what Utopia did with the feeble and insane. “We make all these +distinctions between man and man, we exalt this and favour that, +and degrade and seclude that; we make birth artificial, life +artificial, death artificial.”</p> + +<p>“You say <i>We</i>,” said I, with the first glimmering of a new +idea, “but <i>you</i> don't participate?”</p> + +<p>“Not I! I'm not one of your <i>samurai</i>, your voluntary +noblemen who have taken the world in hand. I might be, of course, +but I'm not.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Samurai!</i>” I repeated, “voluntary noblemen!” and for +the moment could not frame a question.</p> + +<p>He whirled on to an attack on science, that stirred the botanist +to controversy. He denounced with great bitterness all specialists +whatever, and particularly doctors and engineers.</p> + +<p>“Voluntary noblemen!” he said, “voluntary Gods I fancy they +think themselves,” and I was left behind for a space in the +perplexed examination of this parenthesis, while he and the +botanist—who is sedulous to keep his digestion up to date with all +the newest devices—argued about the good of medicine men.</p> + +<p>“The natural human constitution,” said the blond-haired man, +“is perfectly simple, with one simple condition—you must leave it +to Nature. But if you mix up things so distinctly and essentially +separated as the animal and vegetable kingdoms for example, and ram +<i>that</i> in for it to digest, what can you expect?</p> + +<p>“Ill health! There isn't such a thing—in the course of Nature. +But you shelter from Nature in houses, you protect yourselves by +clothes that are useful instead of being ornamental, you wash—with +such abstersive chemicals as soap for example—and above all you +consult doctors.” He approved himself with a chuckle. “Have you +ever found anyone seriously ill without doctors and medicine about? +Never! You say a lot of people would die without shelter and +medical attendance! No doubt—but a natural death. A natural death +is better than an artificial life, surely? That's—to be frank with +you—the very citadel of my position.”</p> + +<p>That led him, and rather promptly, before the botanist could +rally to reply, to a great tirade against the laws that forbade +“sleeping out.” He denounced them with great vigour, and alleged +that for his own part he broke that law whenever he could, found +some corner of moss, shaded from an excess of dew, and there sat up +to sleep. He slept, he said, always in a sitting position, with his +head on his wrists, and his wrists on his knees—the simple natural +position for sleep in man.... He said it would be far better if all +the world slept out, and all the houses were pulled down.</p> + +<p>You will understand, perhaps, the subdued irritation I felt, as +I sat and listened to the botanist entangling himself in the +logical net of this wild nonsense. It impressed me as being +irrelevant. When one comes to a Utopia one expects a Cicerone, one +expects a person as precise and insistent and instructive as an +American advertisement—the advertisement of one of those land +agents, for example, who print their own engaging photographs to +instil confidence and begin, “You want to buy real estate.” One +expects to find all Utopians absolutely convinced of the perfection +of their Utopia, and incapable of receiving a hint against its +order. And here was this purveyor of absurdities!</p> + +<p>And yet now that I come to think it over, is not this too one of +the necessary differences between a Modern Utopia and those finite +compact settlements of the older school of dreamers? It is not to +be a unanimous world any more, it is to have all and more of the +mental contrariety we find in the world of the real; it is no +longer to be perfectly explicable, it is just our own vast +mysterious welter, with some of the blackest shadows gone, with a +clearer illumination, and a more conscious and intelligent will. +Irrelevance is not irrelevant to such a scheme, and our +blond-haired friend is exactly just where he ought to be here.</p> + +<p>Still―</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 3</h4> + +<p>I ceased to listen to the argumentation of my botanist with this +apostle of Nature. The botanist, in his scientific way, was, I +believe, defending the learned professions. (He thinks and argues +like drawing on squared paper.) It struck me as transiently +remarkable that a man who could not be induced to forget himself +and his personal troubles on coming into a whole new world, who +could waste our first evening in Utopia upon a paltry egotistical +love story, should presently become quite heated and impersonal in +the discussion of scientific professionalism. He was—absorbed. I +can't attempt to explain these vivid spots and blind spots in the +imaginations of sane men; there they are!</p> + +<p>“You say,” said the botanist, with a prevalent index finger, +and the resolute deliberation of a big siege gun being lugged into +action over rough ground by a number of inexperienced men, “you +prefer a natural death to an artificial life. But what is your +<i>definition</i> (stress) of artificial?...”</p> + +<p>And after lunch too! I ceased to listen, flicked the end of my +cigarette ash over the green trellis of the arbour, stretched my +legs with a fine restfulness, leant back, and gave my mind to the +fields and houses that lay adown the valley.</p> + +<p>What I saw interwove with fragmentary things our garrulous +friend had said, and with the trend of my own speculations....</p> + +<p>The high road, with its tramways and its avenues on either side, +ran in a bold curve, and with one great loop of descent, down the +opposite side of the valley, and below crossed again on a beautiful +viaduct, and dipped into an arcade in the side of the Bristenstock. +Our inn stood out boldly, high above the level this took. The +houses clustered in their collegiate groups over by the high road, +and near the subordinate way that ran almost vertically below us +and past us and up towards the valley of the Meien Reuss. There +were one or two Utopians cutting and packing the flowery mountain +grass in the carefully levelled and irrigated meadows by means of +swift, light machines that ran on things like feet and seemed to +devour the herbage, and there were many children and a woman or so, +going to and fro among the houses near at hand. I guessed a central +building towards the high road must be the school from which these +children were coming. I noted the health and cleanliness of these +young heirs of Utopia as they passed below.</p> + +<p>The pervading quality of the whole scene was a sane order, the +deliberate solution of problems, a progressive intention steadily +achieving itself, and the aspect that particularly occupied me was +the incongruity of this with our blond-haired friend.</p> + +<p>On the one hand here was a state of affairs that implied a power +of will, an organising and controlling force, the co-operation of a +great number of vigorous people to establish and sustain its +progress, and on the other this creature of pose and vanity, with +his restless wit, his perpetual giggle at his own cleverness, his +manifest incapacity for comprehensive co-operation.</p> + +<p>Now, had I come upon a hopeless incompatibility? Was this the +<i>reductio ad absurdum</i> of my vision, and must it even as I sat +there fade, dissolve, and vanish before my eyes?</p> + +<p>There was no denying our blond friend. If this Utopia is indeed +to parallel our earth, man for man—and I see no other reasonable +choice to that—there must be this sort of person and kindred sorts +of persons in great abundance. The desire and gift to see life +whole is not the lot of the great majority of men, the service of +truth is the privilege of the elect, and these clever fools who +choke the avenues of the world of thought, who stick at no +inconsistency, who oppose, obstruct, confuse, will find only the +freer scope amidst Utopian freedoms.</p> + +<p>(They argued on, these two, as I worried my brains with riddles. +It was like a fight between a cock sparrow and a tortoise; they +both went on in their own way, regardless of each other's +proceedings. The encounter had an air of being extremely lively, +and the moments of contact were few. “But you mistake my point,” +the blond man was saying, disordering his hair—which had become +unruffled in the preoccupation of dispute—with a hasty movement of +his hand, “you don't appreciate the position I take up.”)</p> + +<p>“Ugh!” said I privately, and lighted another cigarette and went +away into my own thoughts with that.</p> + +<p>The position he takes up! That's the way of your intellectual +fool, the Universe over. He takes up a position, and he's going to +be the most brilliant, delightful, engaging and invincible of gay +delicious creatures defending that position you can possibly +imagine. And even when the case is not so bad as that, there still +remains the quality. We “take up our positions,” silly little +contentious creatures that we are, we will not see the right in one +another, we will not patiently state and restate, and honestly +accommodate and plan, and so we remain at sixes and sevens. We've +all a touch of Gladstone in us, and try to the last moment to deny +we have made a turn. And so our poor broken-springed world jolts +athwart its trackless destiny. Try to win into line with some +fellow weakling, and see the little host of suspicions, +aggressions, misrepresentations, your approach will stir—like +summer flies on a high road—the way he will try to score a point +and claim you as a convert to what he has always said, his fear +lest the point should be scored to you.</p> + +<p>It is not only such gross and palpable cases as our blond and +tenoring friend. I could find the thing negligible were it only +that. But when one sees the same thread woven into men who are +leaders, men who sway vast multitudes, who are indeed great and +powerful men; when one sees how unfair they can be, how +unteachable, the great blind areas in their eyes also, their want +of generosity, then one's doubts gather like mists across this +Utopian valley, its vistas pale, its people become unsubstantial +phantoms, all its order and its happiness dim and recede....</p> + +<p>If we are to have any Utopia at all, we must have a clear common +purpose, and a great and steadfast movement of will to override all +these incurably egotistical dissentients. Something is needed wide +and deep enough to float the worst of egotisms away. The world is +not to be made right by acclamation and in a day, and then for ever +more trusted to run alone. It is manifest this Utopia could not +come about by chance and anarchy, but by co-ordinated effort and a +community of design, and to tell of just land laws and wise +government, a wisely balanced economic system, and wise social +arrangements without telling how it was brought about, and how it +is sustained against the vanity and self-indulgence, the moody +fluctuations and uncertain imaginations, the heat and aptitude for +partisanship that lurk, even when they do not flourish, in the +texture of every man alive, is to build a palace without either +door or staircase.</p> + +<p>I had not this in mind when I began.</p> + +<p>Somewhere in the Modern Utopia there must be adequate men, men +the very antithesis of our friend, capable of self-devotion, of +intentional courage, of honest thought, and steady endeavour. There +must be a literature to embody their common idea, of which this +Modern Utopia is merely the material form; there must be some +organisation, however slight, to keep them in touch one with the +other.</p> + +<p>Who will these men be? Will they be a caste? a race? an +organisation in the nature of a Church? ... And there came into my +mind the words of our acquaintance, that he was not one of these +“voluntary noblemen.”</p> + +<p>At first that phrase struck me as being merely queer, and then I +began to realise certain possibilities that were wrapped up in +it.</p> + +<p>The animus of our chance friend, at any rate, went to suggest +that here was his antithesis. Evidently what he is not, will be the +class to contain what is needed here. Evidently.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 4</h4> + +<p>I was recalled from my meditations by the hand of the +blond-haired man upon my arm.</p> + +<p>I looked up to discover the botanist had gone into the inn.</p> + +<p>The blond-haired man was for a moment almost stripped of +pose.</p> + +<p>“I say,” he said. “Weren't you listening to me?”</p> + +<p>“No,” I said bluntly.</p> + +<p>His surprise was manifest. But by an effort he recalled what he +had meant to say.</p> + +<p>“Your friend,” he said, “has been telling me, in spite of my +sustained interruptions, a most incredible story.”</p> + +<p>I wondered how the botanist managed to get it in. “About that +woman?” I said.</p> + +<p>“About a man and a woman who hate each other and can't get away +from each other.”</p> + +<p>“I know,” I said.</p> + +<p>“It sounds absurd.”</p> + +<p>“It is.”</p> + +<p>“Why can't they get away? What is there to keep them together? +It's ridiculous. I―”</p> + +<p>“Quite.”</p> + +<p>“He <i>would</i> tell it to me.”</p> + +<p>“It's his way.”</p> + +<p>“He interrupted me. And there's no point in it. Is he―” he +hesitated, “mad?”</p> + +<p>“There's a whole world of people mad with him,” I answered after +a pause.</p> + +<p>The perplexed expression of the blond-haired man intensified. It +is vain to deny that he enlarged the scope of his inquiry, visibly +if not verbally. “Dear me!” he said, and took up something he had +nearly forgotten. “And you found yourselves suddenly on a mountain +side?... I thought you were joking.”</p> + +<p>I turned round upon him with a sudden access of earnestness. At +least I meant my manner to be earnest, but to him it may have +seemed wild.</p> + +<p>“You,” I said, “are an original sort of man. Do not be alarmed. +Perhaps you will understand.... We were not joking.”</p> + +<p>“But, my dear fellow!”</p> + +<p>“I mean it! We come from an inferior world! Like this, but out +of order.”</p> + +<p>“No world could be more out of order―”</p> + +<p>“You play at that and have your fun. But there's no limit to the +extent to which a world of men may get out of gear. In our +world―”</p> + +<p>He nodded, but his eye had ceased to be friendly.</p> + +<p>“Men die of starvation; people die by the hundred thousand +needlessly and painfully; men and women are lashed together to make +hell for each other; children are born—abominably, and reared in +cruelty and folly; there is a thing called war, a horror of blood +and vileness. The whole thing seems to me at times a cruel and +wasteful wilderness of muddle. You in this decent world have no +means of understanding―”</p> + +<p>“No?” he said, and would have begun, but I went on too +quickly.</p> + +<p>“No! When I see you dandering through this excellent and hopeful +world, objecting, obstructing, and breaking the law, displaying +your wit on science and order, on the men who toil so ingloriously +to swell and use the knowledge that is salvation, this salvation +for which <i>our</i> poor world cries to heaven―”</p> + +<p>“You don't mean to say,” he said, “that you really come from +some other world where things are different and worse?”</p> + +<p>“I do.”</p> + +<p>“And you want to talk to me about it instead of listening to +me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nonsense!” he said abruptly. “You can't do it—really. I +can assure you this present world touches the nadir of imbecility. +You and your friend, with his love for the lady who's so +mysteriously tied—you're romancing! People could not possibly do +such things. It's—if you'll excuse me—ridiculous. <i>He</i> +began—he would begin. A most tiresome story—simply bore me down. +We'd been talking very agreeably before that, or rather I had, +about the absurdity of marriage laws, the interference with a free +and natural life, and so on, and suddenly he burst like a dam. No!” +He paused. “It's really impossible. You behave perfectly well for a +time, and then you begin to interrupt.... And such a childish +story, too!”</p> + +<p>He spun round upon his chair, got up, glanced at me over his +shoulder, and walked out of the arbour. He stepped aside hastily to +avoid too close an approach to the returning botanist. +“Impossible,” I heard him say. He was evidently deeply aggrieved by +us. I saw him presently a little way off in the garden, talking to +the landlord of our inn, and looking towards us as he talked—they +both looked towards us—and after that, without the ceremony of a +farewell, he disappeared, and we saw him no more. We waited for him +a little while, and then I expounded the situation to the +botanist....</p> + +<p>“We are going to have a very considerable amount of trouble +explaining ourselves,” I said in conclusion. “We are here by an act +of the imagination, and that is just one of those metaphysical +operations that are so difficult to make credible. We are, by the +standard of bearing and clothing I remark about us, unattractive in +dress and deportment. We have nothing to produce to explain our +presence here, no bit of a flying machine or a space travelling +sphere or any of the apparatus customary on these occasions. We +have no means beyond a dwindling amount of small change out of a +gold coin, upon which I suppose in ethics and the law some native +Utopian had a better claim. We may already have got ourselves into +trouble with the authorities with that confounded number of +yours!”</p> + +<p>“You did one too!”</p> + +<p>“All the more bother, perhaps, when the thing is brought home to +us. There's no need for recriminations. The thing of moment is that +we find ourselves in the position—not to put too fine a point upon +it—of tramps in this admirable world. The question of all others +of importance to us at present is what do they do with their +tramps? Because sooner or later, and the balance of probability +seems to incline to sooner, whatever they do with their tramps that +they will do with us.”</p> + +<p>“Unless we can get some work.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly—unless we can get some work.”</p> + +<p>“Get work!”</p> + +<p>The botanist leant forward on his arms and looked out of the +arbour with an expression of despondent discovery. “I say,” he +remarked; “this is a strange world—quite strange and new. I'm only +beginning to realise just what it means for us. The mountains there +are the same, the old Bristenstock and all the rest of it; but +these houses, you know, and that roadway, and the costumes, and +that machine that is licking up the grass there—only....”</p> + +<p>He sought expression. “Who knows what will come in sight round +the bend of the valley there? Who knows what may happen to us +anywhere? We don't know who rules over us even ... we don't know +that!”</p> + +<p>“No,” I echoed, “we don't know <i>that</i>.”</p> + +<h3 align="center">CHAPTER THE FIFTH<br> +Failure in a Modern Utopia</h3> + +<h4 align="center">§ 1</h4> + +<p>The old Utopias—save for the breeding schemes of Plato and +Campanella—ignored that reproductive competition among +individualities which is the substance of life, and dealt +essentially with its incidentals. The endless variety of men, their +endless gradation of quality, over which the hand of selection +plays, and to which we owe the unmanageable complication of real +life, is tacitly set aside. The real world is a vast disorder of +accidents and incalculable forces in which men survive or fail. A +Modern Utopia, unlike its predecessors, dare not pretend to change +the last condition; it may order and humanise the conflict, but men +must still survive or fail.</p> + +<p>Most Utopias present themselves as going concerns, as happiness +in being; they make it an essential condition that a happy land can +have no history, and all the citizens one is permitted to see are +well looking and upright and mentally and morally in tune. But we +are under the dominion of a logic that obliges us to take over the +actual population of the world with only such moral and mental and +physical improvements as lie within their inherent possibilities, +and it is our business to ask what Utopia will do with its +congenital invalids, its idiots and madmen, its drunkards and men +of vicious mind, its cruel and furtive souls, its stupid people, +too stupid to be of use to the community, its lumpish, unteachable +and unimaginative people? And what will it do with the man who is +“poor” all round, the rather spiritless, rather incompetent +low-grade man who on earth sits in the den of the sweater, tramps +the streets under the banner of the unemployed, or trembles—in +another man's cast-off clothing, and with an infinity of +hat-touching—on the verge of rural employment?</p> + +<p>These people will have to be in the descendant phase, the +species must be engaged in eliminating them; there is no escape +from that, and conversely the people of exceptional quality must be +ascendant. The better sort of people, so far as they can be +distinguished, must have the fullest freedom of public service, and +the fullest opportunity of parentage. And it must be open to every +man to approve himself worthy of ascendency.</p> + +<p>The way of Nature in this process is to kill the weaker and the +sillier, to crush them, to starve them, to overwhelm them, using +the stronger and more cunning as her weapon. But man is the +unnatural animal, the rebel child of Nature, and more and more does +he turn himself against the harsh and fitful hand that reared him. +He sees with a growing resentment the multitude of suffering +ineffectual lives over which his species tramples in its ascent. In +the Modern Utopia he will have set himself to change the ancient +law. No longer will it be that failures must suffer and perish lest +their breed increase, but the breed of failure must not increase, +lest they suffer and perish, and the race with them.</p> + +<p>Now we need not argue here to prove that the resources of the +world and the energy of mankind, were they organised sanely, are +amply sufficient to supply every material need of every living +human being. And if it can be so contrived that every human being +shall live in a state of reasonable physical and mental comfort, +without the reproduction of inferior types, there is no reason +whatever why that should not be secured. But there must be a +competition in life of some sort to determine who are to be pushed +to the edge, and who are to prevail and multiply. Whatever we do, +man will remain a competitive creature, and though moral and +intellectual training may vary and enlarge his conception of +success and fortify him with refinements and consolations, no +Utopia will ever save him completely from the emotional drama of +struggle, from exultations and humiliations, from pride and +prostration and shame. He lives in success and failure just as +inevitably as he lives in space and time.</p> + +<p>But we may do much to make the margin of failure endurable. On +earth, for all the extravagance of charity, the struggle for the +mass of men at the bottom resolves itself into a struggle, and +often a very foul and ugly struggle, for food, shelter, and +clothing. Deaths outright from exposure and starvation are now +perhaps uncommon, but for the multitude there are only miserable +houses, uncomfortable clothes, and bad and insufficient food; +fractional starvation and exposure, that is to say. A Utopia +planned upon modern lines will certainly have put an end to that. +It will insist upon every citizen being being properly housed, well +nourished, and in good health, reasonably clean and clothed +healthily, and upon that insistence its labour laws will be +founded. In a phrasing that will be familiar to everyone interested +in social reform, it will maintain a standard of life. Any house, +unless it be a public monument, that does not come up to its rising +standard of healthiness and convenience, the Utopian State will +incontinently pull down, and pile the material and charge the owner +for the labour; any house unduly crowded or dirty, it must in some +effectual manner, directly or indirectly, confiscate and clear and +clean. And any citizen indecently dressed, or ragged and dirty, or +publicly unhealthy, or sleeping abroad homeless, or in any way +neglected or derelict, must come under its care. It will find him +work if he can and will work, it will take him to it, it will +register him and lend him the money wherewith to lead a comely life +until work can be found or made for him, and it will give him +credit and shelter him and strengthen him if he is ill. In default +of private enterprises it will provide inns for him and food, and +it will—by itself acting as the reserve employer—maintain a +minimum wage which will cover the cost of a decent life. The State +will stand at the back of the economic struggle as the reserve +employer of labour. This most excellent idea does, as a matter of +fact, underlie the British institution of the workhouse, but it is +jumbled up with the relief of old age and infirmity, it is +administered parochially and on the supposition that all population +is static and localised whereas every year it becomes more +migratory; it is administered without any regard to the rising +standards of comfort and self-respect in a progressive +civilisation, and it is administered grudgingly. The thing that is +done is done as unwilling charity by administrators who are often, +in the rural districts at least, competing for low-priced labour, +and who regard want of employment as a crime. But if it were +possible for any citizen in need of money to resort to a place of +public employment as a right, and there work for a week or month +without degradation upon certain minimum terms, it seems fairly +certain that no one would work, except as the victim of some quite +exceptional and temporary accident, for less.</p> + +<p>The work publicly provided would have to be toilsome, but not +cruel or incapacitating. A choice of occupations would need to be +afforded, occupations adapted to different types of training and +capacity, with some residual employment of a purely laborious and +mechanical sort for those who were incapable of doing the things +that required intelligence. Necessarily this employment by the +State would be a relief of economic pressure, but it would not be +considered a charity done to the individual, but a public service. +It need not pay, any more than the police need pay, but it could +probably be done at a small margin of loss. There is a number of +durable things bound finally to be useful that could be made and +stored whenever the tide of more highly paid employment ebbed and +labour sank to its minimum, bricks, iron from inferior ores, shaped +and preserved timber, pins, nails, plain fabrics of cotton and +linen, paper, sheet glass, artificial fuel, and so on; new roads +could be made and public buildings reconstructed, inconveniences of +all sorts removed, until under the stimulus of accumulating +material, accumulating investments or other circumstances, the tide +of private enterprise flowed again.</p> + +<p>The State would provide these things for its citizen as though +it was his right to require them; he would receive as a shareholder +in the common enterprise and not with any insult of charity. But on +the other hand it will require that the citizen who renders the +minimum of service for these concessions shall not become a parent +until he is established in work at a rate above the minimum, and +free of any debt he may have incurred. The State will never press +for its debt, nor put a limit to its accumulation so long as a man +or woman remains childless; it will not even grudge them temporary +spells of good fortune when they may lift their earnings above the +minimum wage. It will pension the age of everyone who cares to take +a pension, and it will maintain special guest homes for the very +old to which they may come as paying guests, spending their +pensions there. By such obvious devices it will achieve the maximum +elimination of its feeble and spiritless folk in every generation +with the minimum of suffering and public disorder.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 2</h4> + +<p>But the mildly incompetent, the spiritless and dull, the poorer +sort who are ill, do not exhaust our Utopian problem. There remain +idiots and lunatics, there remain perverse and incompetent persons, +there are people of weak character who become drunkards, drug +takers, and the like. Then there are persons tainted with certain +foul and transmissible diseases. All these people spoil the world +for others. They may become parents, and with most of them there is +manifestly nothing to be done but to seclude them from the great +body of the population. You must resort to a kind of social +surgery. You cannot have social freedom in your public ways, your +children cannot speak to whom they will, your girls and gentle +women cannot go abroad while some sorts of people go free. And +there are violent people, and those who will not respect the +property of others, thieves and cheats, they, too, so soon as their +nature is confirmed, must pass out of the free life of our ordered +world. So soon as there can be no doubt of the disease or baseness +of the individual, so soon as the insanity or other disease is +assured, or the crime repeated a third time, or the drunkenness or +misdemeanour past its seventh occasion (let us say), so soon must +he or she pass out of the common ways of men.</p> + +<p>The dreadfulness of all such proposals as this lies in the +possibility of their execution falling into the hands of hard, +dull, and cruel administrators. But in the case of a Utopia one +assumes the best possible government, a government as merciful and +deliberate as it is powerful and decisive. You must not too hastily +imagine these things being done—as they would be done on earth at +present—by a number of zealous half-educated people in a state of +panic at a quite imaginary “Rapid Multiplication of the Unfit.”</p> + +<p>No doubt for first offenders, and for all offenders under +five-and-twenty, the Modern Utopia will attempt cautionary and +remedial treatment. There will be disciplinary schools and colleges +for the young, fair and happy places, but with less confidence and +more restraint than the schools and colleges of the ordinary world. +In remote and solitary regions these enclosures will lie, they will +be fenced in and forbidden to the common run of men, and there, +remote from all temptation, the defective citizen will be schooled. +There will be no masking of the lesson; “which do you value most, +the wide world of humanity, or this evil trend in you?” From that +discipline at last the prisoners will return.</p> + +<p>But the others; what would a saner world do with them?</p> + +<p>Our world is still vindictive, but the all-reaching State of +Utopia will have the strength that begets mercy. Quietly the +outcast will go from among his fellow men. There will be no +drumming of him out of the ranks, no tearing off of epaulettes, no +smiting in the face. The thing must be just public enough to +obviate secret tyrannies, and that is all.</p> + +<p>There would be no killing, no lethal chambers. No doubt Utopia +will kill all deformed and monstrous and evilly diseased births, +but for the rest, the State will hold itself accountable for their +being. There is no justice in Nature perhaps, but the idea of +justice must be sacred in any good society. Lives that +statesmanship has permitted, errors it has not foreseen and +educated against, must not be punished by death. If the State does +not keep faith, no one will keep faith. Crime and bad lives are the +measure of a State's failure, all crime in the end is the crime of +the community. Even for murder Utopia will not, I think, kill.</p> + +<p>I doubt even if there will be jails. No men are quite wise +enough, good enough and cheap enough to staff jails as a jail ought +to be staffed. Perhaps islands will be chosen, islands lying apart +from the highways of the sea, and to these the State will send its +exiles, most of them thanking Heaven, no doubt, to be quit of a +world of prigs. The State will, of course, secure itself against +any children from these people, that is the primary object in their +seclusion, and perhaps it may even be necessary to make these +island prisons a system of island monasteries and island nunneries. +Upon that I am not competent to speak, but if I may believe the +literature of the subject—unhappily a not very well criticised +literature—it is not necessary to enforce this separation. +[Footnote: See for example Dr. W. A. Chapple's <i>The Fertility of +the Unfit</i>.]</p> + +<p>About such islands patrol boats will go, there will be no +freedoms of boat building, and it may be necessary to have armed +guards at the creeks and quays. Beyond that the State will give +these segregated failures just as full a liberty as they can have. +If it interferes any further it will be simply to police the +islands against the organisation of serious cruelty, to maintain +the freedom of any of the detained who wish it to transfer +themselves to other islands, and so to keep a check upon tyranny. +The insane, of course, will demand care and control, but there is +no reason why the islands of the hopeless drunkard, for example, +should not each have a virtual autonomy, have at the most a +Resident and a guard. I believe that a community of drunkards might +be capable of organising even its own bad habit to the pitch of +tolerable existence. I do not see why such an island should not +build and order for itself and manufacture and trade. “Your ways +are not our ways,” the World State will say; “but here is freedom +and a company of kindred souls. Elect your jolly rulers, brew if +you will, and distil; here are vine cuttings and barley fields; do +as it pleases you to do. We will take care of the knives, but for +the rest—deal yourselves with God!”</p> + +<p>And you see the big convict steamship standing in to the Island +of Incurable Cheats. The crew are respectfully at their quarters, +ready to lend a hand overboard, but wide awake, and the captain is +hospitably on the bridge to bid his guests good-bye and keep an eye +on the movables. The new citizens for this particular Alsatia, each +no doubt with his personal belongings securely packed and at hand, +crowd the deck and study the nearing coast. Bright, keen faces +would be there, and we, were we by any chance to find ourselves +beside the captain, might recognise the double of this great +earthly magnate or that, Petticoat Lane and Park Lane cheek by +jowl. The landing part of the jetty is clear of people, only a +government man or so stands there to receive the boat and prevent a +rush, but beyond the gates a number of engagingly smart-looking +individuals loiter speculatively. One figures a remarkable building +labelled Custom House, an interesting fiscal revival this +population has made, and beyond, crowding up the hill, the painted +walls of a number of comfortable inns clamour loudly. One or two +inhabitants in reduced circumstances would act as hotel touts, +there are several hotel omnibuses and a Bureau de Change, certainly +a Bureau de Change. And a small house with a large board, aimed +point-blank seaward, declares itself a Gratis Information Office, +and next to it rises the graceful dome of a small Casino. Beyond, +great hoardings proclaim the advantages of many island +specialities, a hustling commerce, and the opening of a Public +Lottery. There is a large cheap-looking barrack, the school of +Commercial Science for gentlemen of inadequate training....</p> + +<p>Altogether a very go-ahead looking little port it would be, and +though this disembarkation would have none of the flow of hilarious +good fellowship that would throw a halo of genial noise about the +Islands of Drink, it is doubtful if the new arrivals would feel +anything very tragic in the moment. Here at last was scope for +adventure after their hearts.</p> + +<p>This sounds more fantastic than it is. But what else is there to +do, unless you kill? You must seclude, but why should you torment? +All modern prisons are places of torture by restraint, and the +habitual criminal plays the part of a damaged mouse at the mercy of +the cat of our law. He has his little painful run, and back he +comes again to a state more horrible even than destitution. There +are no Alsatias left in the world. For my own part I can think of +no crime, unless it is reckless begetting or the wilful +transmission of contagious disease, for which the bleak terrors, +the solitudes and ignominies of the modern prison do not seem +outrageously cruel. If you want to go so far as that, then kill. +Why, once you are rid of them, should you pester criminals to +respect an uncongenial standard of conduct? Into such islands of +exile as this a modern Utopia will have to purge itself. There is +no alternative that I can contrive.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 3</h4> + +<p>Will a Utopian be free to be idle?</p> + +<p>Work has to be done, every day humanity is sustained by its +collective effort, and without a constant recurrence of effort in +the single man as in the race as a whole, there is neither health +nor happiness. The permanent idleness of a human being is not only +burthensome to the world, but his own secure misery. But +unprofitable occupation is also intended by idleness, and it may be +considered whether that freedom also will be open to the Utopian. +Conceivably it will, like privacy, locomotion, and almost all the +freedoms of life, and on the same terms—if he possess the money to +pay for it.</p> + +<p>That last condition may produce a shock in minds accustomed to +the proposition that money is the root of all evil, and to the idea +that Utopia necessarily implies something rather oaken and +hand-made and primitive in all these relations. Of course, money is +not the root of any evil in the world; the root of all evil in the +world, and the root of all good too, is the Will to Live, and money +becomes harmful only when by bad laws and bad economic organisation +it is more easily attained by bad men than good. It is as +reasonable to say food is the root of all disease, because so many +people suffer from excessive and unwise eating. The sane economic +ideal is to make the possession of money the clear indication of +public serviceableness, and the more nearly that ideal is attained, +the smaller is the justification of poverty and the less the +hardship of being poor. In barbaric and disorderly countries it is +almost honourable to be indigent and unquestionably virtuous to +give to a beggar, and even in the more or less civilised societies +of earth, so many children come into life hopelessly handicapped, +that austerity to the poor is regarded as the meanest of mean +virtues. But in Utopia everyone will have had an education and a +certain minimum of nutrition and training; everyone will be insured +against ill-health and accidents; there will be the most efficient +organisation for balancing the pressure of employment and the +presence of disengaged labour, and so to be moneyless will be clear +evidence of unworthiness. In Utopia, no one will dream of giving to +a casual beggar, and no one will dream of begging.</p> + +<p>There will need to be, in the place of the British casual wards, +simple but comfortable inns with a low tariff—controlled to a +certain extent no doubt, and even in some cases maintained, by the +State. This tariff will have such a definite relation to the +minimum permissible wage, that a man who has incurred no +liabilities through marriage or the like relationship, will be able +to live in comfort and decency upon that minimum wage, pay his +small insurance premium against disease, death, disablement, or +ripening years, and have a margin for clothing and other personal +expenses. But he will get neither shelter nor food, except at the +price of his freedom, unless he can produce money.</p> + +<p>But suppose a man without money in a district where employment +is not to be found for him; suppose the amount of employment to +have diminished in the district with such suddenness as to have +stranded him there. Or suppose he has quarrelled with the only +possible employer, or that he does not like his particular work. +Then no doubt the Utopian State, which wants everyone to be just as +happy as the future welfare of the race permits, will come to his +assistance. One imagines him resorting to a neat and business-like +post-office, and stating his case to a civil and intelligent +official. In any sane State the economic conditions of every +quarter of the earth will be watched as constantly as its +meteorological phases, and a daily map of the country within a +radius of three or four hundred miles showing all the places where +labour is needed will hang upon the post-office wall. To this his +attention will be directed. The man out of work will decide to try +his luck in this place or that, and the public servant, the +official, will make a note of his name, verify his identity—the +freedom of Utopia will not be incompatible with the universal +registration of thumb-marks—and issue passes for travel and +coupons for any necessary inn accommodation on his way to the +chosen destination. There he will seek a new employer.</p> + +<p>Such a free change of locality once or twice a year from a +region of restricted employment to a region of labour shortage will +be among the general privileges of the Utopian citizen.</p> + +<p>But suppose that in no district in the world is there work +within the capacity of this particular man?</p> + +<p>Before we suppose that, we must take into consideration the +general assumption one is permitted to make in all Utopian +speculations. All Utopians will be reasonably well educated upon +Utopian lines; there will be no illiterates unless they are +unteachable imbeciles, no rule-of-thumb toilers as inadaptable as +trained beasts. The Utopian worker will be as versatile as any +well-educated man is on earth to-day, and no Trade Union will +impose a limit to his activities. The world will be his Union. If +the work he does best and likes best is not to be found, there is +still the work he likes second best. Lacking his proper employment, +he will turn to some kindred trade.</p> + +<p>But even with that adaptability, it may be that sometimes he +will not find work. Such a disproportion between the work to be +done and the people to do it may arise as to present a surplus of +labour everywhere. This disproportion may be due to two causes: to +an increase of population without a corresponding increase of +enterprises, or to a diminution of employment throughout the world +due to the completion of great enterprises, to economies achieved, +or to the operation of new and more efficient labour-saving +appliances. Through either cause, a World State may find itself +doing well except for an excess of citizens of mediocre and lower +quality.</p> + +<p>But the first cause may be anticipated by wise marriage laws.... +The full discussion of these laws will come later, but here one may +insist that Utopia will control the increase of its population. +Without the determination and ability to limit that increase as +well as to stimulate it whenever it is necessary, no Utopia is +possible. That was clearly demonstrated by Malthus for all +time.</p> + +<p>The second cause is not so easily anticipated, but then, though +its immediate result in glutting the labour market is similar, its +final consequences are entirely different from those of the first. +The whole trend of a scientific mechanical civilisation is +continually to replace labour by machinery and to increase it in +its effectiveness by organisation, and so quite independently of +any increase in population labour must either fall in value until +it can compete against and check the cheapening process, or if that +is prevented, as it will be in Utopia, by a minimum wage, come out +of employment. There is no apparent limit to this process. But a +surplus of efficient labour at the minimum wage is exactly the +condition that should stimulate new enterprises, and that in a +State saturated with science and prolific in invention will +stimulate new enterprises. An increasing surplus of available +labour without an absolute increase of population, an increasing +surplus of labour due to increasing economy and not to +proliferation, and which, therefore, does not press on and +disarrange the food supply, is surely the ideal condition for a +progressive civilisation. I am inclined to think that, since labour +will be regarded as a delocalised and fluid force, it will be the +World State and not the big municipalities ruling the force areas +that will be the reserve employer of labour. Very probably it will +be convenient for the State to hand over the surplus labour for +municipal purposes, but that is another question. All over the +world the labour exchanges will be reporting the fluctuating +pressure of economic demand and transferring workers from this +region of excess to that of scarcity; and whenever the excess is +universal, the World State—failing an adequate development of +private enterprise—will either reduce the working day and so +absorb the excess, or set on foot some permanent special works of +its own, paying the minimum wage and allowing them to progress just +as slowly or just as rapidly as the ebb and flow of labour +dictated. But with sane marriage and birth laws there is no reason +to suppose such calls upon the resources and initiative of the +world more than temporary and exceptional occasions.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 4</h4> + +<p>The existence of our blond bare-footed friend was evidence +enough that in a modern Utopia a man will be free to be just as +idle or uselessly busy as it pleases him, after he has earned the +minimum wage. He must do that, of course, to pay for his keep, to +pay his assurance tax against ill-health or old age, and any charge +or debt paternity may have brought upon him. The World State of the +modern Utopist is no state of moral compulsions. If, for example, +under the restricted Utopian scheme of inheritance, a man inherited +sufficient money to release him from the need to toil, he would be +free to go where he pleased and do what he liked. A certain +proportion of men at ease is good for the world; work as a moral +obligation is the morality of slaves, and so long as no one is +overworked there is no need to worry because some few are +underworked. Utopia does not exist as a solace for envy. From +leisure, in a good moral and intellectual atmosphere, come +experiments, come philosophy and the new departures.</p> + +<p>In any modern Utopia there must be many leisurely people. We are +all too obsessed in the real world by the strenuous ideal, by the +idea that the vehement incessant fool is the only righteous man. +Nothing done in a hurry, nothing done under strain, is really well +done. A State where all are working hard, where none go to and fro, +easily and freely, loses touch with the purpose of freedom.</p> + +<p>But inherited independence will be the rarest and least +permanent of Utopian facts, for the most part that wider freedom +will have to be earned, and the inducements to men and women to +raise their personal value far above the minimum wage will be very +great indeed. Thereby will come privacies, more space in which to +live, liberty to go everywhere and do no end of things, the power +and freedom to initiate interesting enterprises and assist and +co-operate with interesting people, and indeed all the best things +of life. The modern Utopia will give a universal security indeed, +and exercise the minimum of compulsions to toil, but it will offer +some acutely desirable prizes. The aim of all these devices, the +minimum wage, the standard of life, provision for all the feeble +and unemployed and so forth, is not to rob life of incentives but +to change their nature, to make life not less energetic, but less +panic-stricken and violent and base, to shift the incidence of the +struggle for existence from our lower to our higher emotions, so to +anticipate and neutralise the motives of the cowardly and bestial, +that the ambitious and energetic imagination which is man's finest +quality may become the incentive and determining factor in +survival.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 5</h4> + +<p>After we have paid for our lunch in the little inn that +corresponds to Wassen, the botanist and I would no doubt spend the +rest of the forenoon in the discussion of various aspects and +possibilities of Utopian labour laws. We should examine our +remaining change, copper coins of an appearance ornamental rather +than reassuring, and we should decide that after what we had +gathered from the man with the blond hair, it would, on the whole, +be advisable to come to the point with the labour question +forthwith. At last we should draw the deep breath of resolution and +arise and ask for the Public Office. We should know by this time +that the labour bureau sheltered with the post-office and other +public services in one building.</p> + +<p>The public office of Utopia would of course contain a few +surprises for two men from terrestrial England. You imagine us +entering, the botanist lagging a little behind me, and my first +attempts to be offhand and commonplace in a demand for work.</p> + +<p>The office is in charge of a quick-eyed little woman of six and +thirty perhaps, and she regards us with a certain keenness of +scrutiny.</p> + +<p>“Where are your papers?” she asks.</p> + +<p>I think for a moment of the documents in my pocket, my passport +chequered with visas and addressed in my commendation and in the +name of her late Majesty by <i>We, Robert Arthur Talbot Gascoigne +Cecil, Marquess of Salisbury, Earl of Salisbury, Viscount +Cranborne, Baron Cecil</i>, and so forth, to all whom it may +concern, my <i>Carte d'Identité</i> (useful on minor occasions) +of the Touring Club de France, my green ticket to the Reading Room +of the British Museum, and my Lettre d'Indication from the London +and County Bank. A foolish humour prompts me to unfold all these, +hand them to her and take the consequences, but I resist.</p> + +<p>“Lost,” I say, briefly.</p> + +<p>“Both lost?” she asks, looking at my friend.</p> + +<p>“Both,” I answer.</p> + +<p>“How?”</p> + +<p>I astonish myself by the readiness of my answer.</p> + +<p>“I fell down a snow slope and they came out of my pocket.”</p> + +<p>“And exactly the same thing happened to both of you?”</p> + +<p>“No. He'd given me his to put with my own.” She raised her +eyebrows. “His pocket is defective,” I add, a little hastily.</p> + +<p>Her manners are too Utopian for her to follow that up. She seems +to reflect on procedure.</p> + +<p>“What are your numbers?” she asks, abruptly.</p> + +<p>A vision of that confounded visitors' book at the inn above +comes into my mind. “Let me <i>see</i>,” I say, and pat my forehead +and reflect, refraining from the official eye before me. “Let me +<i>see</i>.”</p> + +<p>“What is yours?” she asks the botanist.</p> + +<p>“A. B.,” he says, slowly, “little <i>a</i>, nine four seven, I +<i>think</i>―”</p> + +<p>“Don't you know?”</p> + +<p>“Not exactly,” says the botanist, very agreeably. “No.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to say neither of you know your own numbers?” says +the little post-mistress, with a rising note.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I say, with an engaging smile and trying to keep up a +good social tone. “It's queer, isn't it? We've both forgotten.”</p> + +<p>“You're joking,” she suggests.</p> + +<p>“Well,” I temporise.</p> + +<p>“I suppose you've got your thumbs?”</p> + +<p>“The fact is―” I say and hesitate. “We've got our thumbs, of +course.”</p> + +<p>“Then I shall have to send a thumb-print down to the office and +get your number from that. But are you sure you haven't your papers +or numbers? It's very queer.”</p> + +<p>We admit rather sheepishly that it's queer, and question one +another silently.</p> + +<p>She turns thoughtfully for the thumb-marking slab, and as she +does so, a man enters the office. At the sight of him she asks with +a note of relief, “What am I to do, sir, here?”</p> + +<p>He looks from her to us gravely, and his eye lights to curiosity +at our dress. “What is the matter, madam?” he asks, in a courteous +voice.</p> + +<p>She explains.</p> + +<p>So far the impression we have had of our Utopia is one of a +quite unearthly sanity, of good management and comprehensive design +in every material thing, and it has seemed to us a little +incongruous that all the Utopians we have talked to, our host of +last night, the post-mistress and our garrulous tramp, have been of +the most commonplace type. But suddenly there looks out from this +man's pose and regard a different quality, a quality altogether +nearer that of the beautiful tramway and of the gracious order of +the mountain houses. He is a well-built man of perhaps five and +thirty, with the easy movement that comes with perfect physical +condition, his face is clean shaven and shows the firm mouth of a +disciplined man, and his grey eyes are clear and steady. His legs +are clad in some woven stuff deep-red in colour, and over this he +wears a white shirt fitting pretty closely, and with a woven purple +hem. His general effect reminds me somehow of the Knights Templars. +On his head is a cap of thin leather and still thinner steel, and +with the vestiges of ear-guards—rather like an attenuated version +of the caps that were worn by Cromwell's Ironsides.</p> + +<p>He looks at us and we interpolate a word or so as she explains +and feel a good deal of embarrassment at the foolish position we +have made for ourselves. I determine to cut my way out of this +entanglement before it complicates itself further.</p> + +<p>“The fact is―” I say.</p> + +<p>“Yes?” he says, with a faint smile.</p> + +<p>“We've perhaps been disingenuous. Our position is so entirely +exceptional, so difficult to explain―”</p> + +<p>“What have you been doing?”</p> + +<p>“No,” I say, with decision; “it can't be explained like +that.”</p> + +<p>He looks down at his feet. “Go on,” he says.</p> + +<p>I try to give the thing a quiet, matter-of-fact air. “You see,” +I say, in the tone one adopts for really lucid explanations, “we +come from another world. Consequently, whatever thumb-mark +registration or numbering you have in this planet doesn't apply to +us, and we don't know our numbers because we haven't got any. We +are really, you know, explorers, strangers―”</p> + +<p>“But what world do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“It's a different planet—a long way away. Practically at an +infinite distance.”</p> + +<p>He looks up in my face with the patient expression of a man who +listens to nonsense.</p> + +<p>“I know it sounds impossible,” I say, “but here is the simple +fact—we <i>appear</i> in your world. We appeared suddenly upon the +neck of Lucendro—the Passo Lucendro—yesterday afternoon, and I +defy you to discover the faintest trace of us before that time. +Down we marched into the San Gotthard road and here we are! That's +our fact. And as for papers―! Where in your world have you seen +papers like this?”</p> + +<p>I produce my pocket-book, extract my passport, and present it to +him.</p> + +<p>His expression has changed. He takes the document and examines +it, turns it over, looks at me, and smiles that faint smile of his +again.</p> + +<p>“Have some more,” I say, and proffer the card of the T.C.F.</p> + +<p>I follow up that blow with my green British Museum ticket, as +tattered as a flag in a knight's chapel.</p> + +<p>“You'll get found out,” he says, with my documents in his hand. +“You've got your thumbs. You'll be measured. They'll refer to the +central registers, and there you'll be!”</p> + +<p>“That's just it,” I say, “we sha'n't be.”</p> + +<p>He reflects. “It's a queer sort of joke for you two men to +play,” he decides, handing me back my documents.</p> + +<p>“It's no joke at all,” I say, replacing them in my +pocket-book.</p> + +<p>The post-mistress intervenes. “What would you advise me to +do?”</p> + +<p>“No money?” he asks.</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>He makes some suggestions. “Frankly,” he says, “I think you have +escaped from some island. How you got so far as here I can't +imagine, or what you think you'll do.... But anyhow, there's the +stuff for your thumbs.”</p> + +<p>He points to the thumb-marking apparatus and turns to attend to +his own business.</p> + +<p>Presently we emerge from the office in a state between +discomfiture and amusement, each with a tramway ticket for Lucerne +in his hand and with sufficient money to pay our expenses until the +morrow. We are to go to Lucerne because there there is a demand for +comparatively unskilled labour in carving wood, which seems to us a +sort of work within our range and a sort that will not compel our +separation.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 6</h4> + +<p>The old Utopias are sessile organisations; the new must square +itself to the needs of a migratory population, to an endless coming +and going, to a people as fluid and tidal as the sea. It does not +enter into the scheme of earthly statesmanship, but indeed all +local establishments, all definitions of place, are even now +melting under our eyes. Presently all the world will be awash with +anonymous stranger men.</p> + +<p>Now the simple laws of custom, the homely methods of +identification that served in the little communities of the past +when everyone knew everyone, fail in the face of this liquefaction. +If the modern Utopia is indeed to be a world of responsible +citizens, it must have devised some scheme by which every person in +the world can be promptly and certainly recognised, and by which +anyone missing can be traced and found.</p> + +<p>This is by no means an impossible demand. The total population +of the world is, on the most generous estimate, not more than +1,500,000,000, and the effectual indexing of this number of people, +the record of their movement hither and thither, the entry of +various material facts, such as marriage, parentage, criminal +convictions and the like, the entry of the new-born and the +elimination of the dead, colossal task though it would be, is still +not so great as to be immeasurably beyond comparison with the work +of the post-offices in the world of to-day, or the cataloguing of +such libraries as that of the British Museum, or such collections +as that of the insects in Cromwell Road. Such an index could be +housed quite comfortably on one side of Northumberland Avenue, for +example. It is only a reasonable tribute to the distinctive +lucidity of the French mind to suppose the central index housed in +a vast series of buildings at or near Paris. The index would be +classified primarily by some unchanging physical characteristic, +such as we are told the thumb-mark and finger-mark afford, and to +these would be added any other physical traits that were of +material value. The classification of thumb-marks and of +inalterable physical characteristics goes on steadily, and there is +every reason for assuming it possible that each human being could +be given a distinct formula, a number or “scientific name,” under +which he or she could be docketed. [Footnote: It is quite possible +that the actual thumb-mark may play only a small part in the work +of identification, but it is an obvious convenience to our thread +of story to assume that it is the one sufficient feature.] About +the buildings in which this great main index would be gathered, +would be a system of other indices with cross references to the +main one, arranged under names, under professional qualifications, +under diseases, crimes and the like.</p> + +<p>These index cards might conceivably be transparent and so +contrived as to give a photographic copy promptly whenever it was +needed, and they could have an attachment into which would slip a +ticket bearing the name of the locality in which the individual was +last reported. A little army of attendants would be at work upon +this index day and night. From sub-stations constantly engaged in +checking back thumb-marks and numbers, an incessant stream of +information would come, of births, of deaths, of arrivals at inns, +of applications to post-offices for letters, of tickets taken for +long journeys, of criminal convictions, marriages, applications for +public doles and the like. A filter of offices would sort the +stream, and all day and all night for ever a swarm of clerks would +go to and fro correcting this central register, and photographing +copies of its entries for transmission to the subordinate local +stations, in response to their inquiries. So the inventory of the +State would watch its every man and the wide world write its +history as the fabric of its destiny flowed on. At last, when the +citizen died, would come the last entry of all, his age and the +cause of his death and the date and place of his cremation, and his +card would be taken out and passed on to the universal pedigree, to +a place of greater quiet, to the ever-growing galleries of the +records of the dead.</p> + +<p>Such a record is inevitable if a Modern Utopia is to be +achieved.</p> + +<p>Yet at this, too, our blond-haired friend would no doubt rebel. +One of the many things to which some will make claim as a right, is +that of going unrecognised and secret whither one will. But that, +so far as one's fellow wayfarers were concerned, would still be +possible. Only the State would share the secret of one's little +concealment. To the eighteenth-century Liberal, to the +old-fashioned nineteenth-century Liberal, that is to say to all +professed Liberals, brought up to be against the Government on +principle, this organised clairvoyance will be the most hateful of +dreams. Perhaps, too, the Individualist would see it in that light. +But these are only the mental habits acquired in an evil time. The +old Liberalism assumed bad government, the more powerful the +government the worse it was, just as it assumed the natural +righteousness of the free individual. Darkness and secrecy were, +indeed, the natural refuges of liberty when every government had in +it the near possibility of tyranny, and the Englishman or American +looked at the papers of a Russian or a German as one might look at +the chains of a slave. You imagine that father of the old +Liberalism, Rousseau, slinking off from his offspring at the door +of the Foundling Hospital, and you can understand what a crime +against natural virtue this quiet eye of the State would have +seemed to him. But suppose we do not assume that government is +necessarily bad, and the individual necessarily good—and the +hypothesis upon which we are working practically abolishes either +alternative—then we alter the case altogether. The government of a +modern Utopia will be no perfection of intentions ignorantly ruling +the world.... [Footnote: In the typical modern State of our own +world, with its population of many millions, and its extreme +facility of movement, undistinguished men who adopt an alias can +make themselves untraceable with the utmost ease. The temptation of +the opportunities thus offered has developed a new type of +criminality, the Deeming or Crossman type, base men who subsist and +feed their heavy imaginations in the wooing, betrayal, +ill-treatment, and sometimes even the murder of undistinguished +women. This is a large, a growing, and, what is gravest, a prolific +class, fostered by the practical anonymity of the common man. It is +only the murderers who attract much public attention, but the +supply of low-class prostitutes is also largely due to these free +adventures of the base. It is one of the bye products of State +Liberalism, and at present it is very probably drawing ahead in the +race against the development of police organisation.]</p> + +<p>Such is the eye of the State that is now slowly beginning to +apprehend our existence as two queer and inexplicable parties +disturbing the fine order of its field of vision, the eye that will +presently be focussing itself upon us with a growing astonishment +and interrogation. “Who in the name of Galton and Bertillon,” one +fancies Utopia exclaiming, “are <i>you</i>?”</p> + +<p>I perceive I shall cut a queer figure in that focus. I shall +affect a certain spurious ease of carriage no doubt. “The fact is, +I shall begin....”</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 7</h4> + +<p>And now see how an initial hypothesis may pursue and overtake +its maker. Our thumb-marks have been taken, they have travelled by +pneumatic tube to the central office of the municipality hard by +Lucerne, and have gone on thence to the headquarters of the index +at Paris. There, after a rough preliminary classification, I +imagine them photographed on glass, and flung by means of a lantern +in colossal images upon a screen, all finely squared, and the +careful experts marking and measuring their several convolutions. +And then off goes a brisk clerk to the long galleries of the index +building.</p> + +<p>I have told them they will find no sign of us, but you see him +going from gallery to gallery, from bay to bay, from drawer to +drawer, and from card to card. “Here he is!” he mutters to himself, +and he whips out a card and reads. “But that is impossible!” he +says....</p> + +<p>You figure us returning after a day or so of such Utopian +experiences as I must presently describe, to the central office in +Lucerne, even as we have been told to do.</p> + +<p>I make my way to the desk of the man who has dealt with us +before. “Well?” I say, cheerfully, “have you heard?”</p> + +<p>His expression dashes me a little. “We've heard,” he says, and +adds, “it's very peculiar.”</p> + +<p>“I told you you wouldn't find out about us,” I say, +triumphantly.</p> + +<p>“But we have,” he says; “but that makes your freak none the less +remarkable.”</p> + +<p>“You've heard! You know who we are! Well—tell us! We had an +idea, but we're beginning to doubt.”</p> + +<p>“You,” says the official, addressing the botanist, +“are―!”</p> + +<p>And he breathes his name. Then he turns to me and gives me +mine.</p> + +<p>For a moment I am dumbfounded. Then I think of the entries we +made at the inn in the Urserenthal, and then in a flash I have the +truth. I rap the desk smartly with my finger-tips and shake my +index-finger in my friend's face.</p> + +<p>“By Jove!” I say in English. “They've got our doubles!”</p> + +<p>The botanist snaps his fingers. “Of course! I didn't think of +that.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mind,” I say to this official, “telling us some more +about ourselves?”</p> + +<p>“I can't think why you keep it up,” he remarks, and then almost +wearily tells me the facts about my Utopian self. They are a little +difficult to understand. He says I am one of the <i>samurai</i>, +which sounds Japanese, “but you will be degraded,” he says, with a +gesture almost of despair. He describes my position in this world +in phrases that convey very little.</p> + +<p>“The queer thing,” he remarks, “is that you were in Norway only +three days ago.”</p> + +<p>“I am there still. At least―. I'm sorry to be so much trouble +to you, but do you mind following up that last clue and inquiring +if the person to whom the thumb-mark really belongs isn't in Norway +still?”</p> + +<p>The idea needs explanation. He says something incomprehensible +about a pilgrimage. “Sooner or later,” I say, “you will have to +believe there are two of us with the same thumb-mark. I won't +trouble you with any apparent nonsense about other planets and so +forth again. Here I am. If I was in Norway a few days ago, you +ought to be able to trace my journey hither. And my friend?”</p> + +<p>“He was in India.” The official is beginning to look +perplexed.</p> + +<p>“It seems to me,” I say, “that the difficulties in this case are +only just beginning. How did I get from Norway hither? Does my +friend look like hopping from India to the Saint Gotthard at one +hop? The situation is a little more difficult than that―”</p> + +<p>“But here!” says the official, and waves what are no doubt +photographic copies of the index cards.</p> + +<p>“But we are not those individuals!”</p> + +<p>“You <i>are</i> those individuals.”</p> + +<p>“You will see,” I say.</p> + +<p>He dabs his finger argumentatively upon the thumb-marks. “I see +now,” he says.</p> + +<p>“There is a mistake,” I maintain, “an unprecedented mistake. +There's the difficulty. If you inquire you will find it begin to +unravel. What reason is there for us to remain casual workmen here, +when you allege we are men of position in the world, if there isn't +something wrong? We shall stick to this wood-carving work you have +found us here, and meanwhile I think you ought to inquire again. +That's how the thing shapes to me.”</p> + +<p>“Your case will certainly have to be considered further,” he +says, with the faintest of threatening notes in his tone. “But at +the same time”—hand out to those copies from the index +again—“there you are, you know!”</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 8</h4> + +<p>When my botanist and I have talked over and exhausted every +possibility of our immediate position, we should turn, I think, to +more general questions.</p> + +<p>I should tell him the thing that was becoming more and more +apparent in my own mind. Here, I should say, is a world, obviously +on the face of it well organised. Compared with our world, it is +like a well-oiled engine beside a scrap-heap. It has even got this +confounded visual organ swivelling about in the most alert and +lively fashion. But that's by the way.... You have only to look at +all these houses below. (We should be sitting on a seat on the +Gütsch and looking down on the Lucerne of Utopia, a Lucerne that +would, I insist, quite arbitrarily, still keep the Wasserthurm and +the Kapellbrucke.) You have only to mark the beauty, the simple +cleanliness and balance of this world, you have only to see the +free carriage, the unaffected graciousness of even the common +people, to understand how fine and complete the arrangements of +this world must be. How are they made so? We of the twentieth +century are not going to accept the sweetish, faintly nasty slops +of Rousseauism that so gratified our great-great-grandparents in +the eighteenth. We know that order and justice do not come by +Nature—“if only the policeman would go away.” These things mean +intention, will, carried to a scale that our poor vacillating, hot +and cold earth has never known. What I am really seeing more and +more clearly is the will beneath this visible Utopia. Convenient +houses, admirable engineering that is no offence amidst natural +beauties, beautiful bodies, and a universally gracious carriage, +these are only the outward and visible signs of an inward and +spiritual grace. Such an order means discipline. It means triumph +over the petty egotisms and vanities that keep men on our earth +apart; it means devotion and a nobler hope; it cannot exist without +a gigantic process of inquiry, trial, forethought and patience in +an atmosphere of mutual trust and concession. Such a world as this +Utopia is not made by the chance occasional co-operations of +self-indulgent men, by autocratic rulers or by the bawling wisdom +of the democratic leader. And an unrestricted competition for gain, +an enlightened selfishness, that too fails us....</p> + +<p>I have compared the system of indexing humanity we have come +upon to an eye, an eye so sensitive and alert that two strangers +cannot appear anywhere upon the planet without discovery. Now an +eye does not see without a brain, an eye does not turn round and +look without a will and purpose. A Utopia that deals only with +appliances and arrangements is a dream of superficialities; the +essential problem here, the body within these garments, is a moral +and an intellectual problem. Behind all this material order, these +perfected communications, perfected public services and economic +organisations, there must be men and women willing these things. +There must be a considerable number and a succession of these men +and women of will. No single person, no transitory group of people, +could order and sustain this vast complexity. They must have a +collective if not a common width of aim, and that involves a spoken +or written literature, a living literature to sustain the harmony +of their general activity. In some way they must have put the more +immediate objects of desire into a secondary place, and that means +renunciation. They must be effectual in action and persistent in +will, and that means discipline. But in the modern world in which +progress advances without limits, it will be evident that whatever +common creed or formula they have must be of the simplest sort; +that whatever organisation they have must be as mobile and flexible +as a thing alive. All this follows inevitably from the general +propositions of our Utopian dream. When we made those, we bound +ourselves helplessly to come to this....</p> + +<p>The botanist would nod an abstracted assent.</p> + +<p>I should cease to talk. I should direct my mind to the confused +mass of memories three days in Utopia will have given us. Besides +the personalities with whom we have come into actual contact, our +various hosts, our foreman and work-fellows, the blond man, the +public officials and so on, there will be a great multitude of +other impressions. There will be many bright snapshots of little +children, for example, of girls and women and men, seen in shops +and offices and streets, on quays, at windows and by the wayside, +people riding hither and thither and walking to and fro. A very +human crowd it has seemed to me. But among them were there any who +might be thought of as having a wider interest than the others, who +seemed in any way detached from the rest by a purpose that passed +beyond the seen?</p> + +<p>Then suddenly I recall that clean-shaven man who talked with us +for a little while in the public office at Wassen, the man who +reminded me of my boyish conception of a Knight Templar, and with +him come momentary impressions of other lithe and serious-looking +people dressed after the same manner, words and phrases we have +read in such scraps of Utopian reading as have come our way, and +expressions that fell from the loose mouth of the man with the +blond hair....</p> + +<h3 align="center">CHAPTER THE SIXTH<br> +Women in a Modern Utopia</h3> + +<h4 align="center">§ 1</h4> + +<p>But though I have come to a point where the problem of a Utopia +has resolved itself very simply into the problem of government and +direction, I find I have not brought the botanist with me. Frankly +he cannot think so steadily onward as I can. I feel to think, he +thinks to feel. It is I and my kind that have the wider range, +because we can be impersonal as well as personal. We can escape +ourselves. In general terms, at least, I understand him, but he +does not understand me in any way at all. He thinks me an +incomprehensible brute because his obsession is merely one of my +incidental interests, and wherever my reasoning ceases to be +explicit and full, the slightest ellipsis, the most transitory +digression, he evades me and is back at himself again. He may have +a personal liking for me, though I doubt it, but also he hates me +pretty distinctly, because of this bias he cannot understand. My +philosophical insistence that things shall be reasonable and hang +together, that what can be explained shall be explained, and that +what can be done by calculation and certain methods shall not be +left to chance, he loathes. He just wants adventurously to feel. He +wants to feel the sunset, and he thinks that on the whole he would +feel it better if he had not been taught the sun was about +ninety-two million miles away. He wants to feel free and strong, +and he would rather feel so than be so. He does not want to +accomplish great things, but to have dazzling things occur to him. +He does not know that there are feelings also up in the clear air +of the philosophic mountains, in the long ascents of effort and +design. He does not know that thought itself is only a finer sort +of feeling than his—good hock to the mixed gin, porter and treacle +of his emotions, a perception of similitudes and oppositions that +carries even thrills. And naturally he broods on the source of all +his most copious feelings and emotions, women, and particularly +upon the woman who has most made him feel. He forces me also to +that.</p> + +<p>Our position is unfortunate for me. Our return to the Utopian +equivalent of Lucerne revives in him all the melancholy distresses +that so preoccupied him when first we were transferred to this +better planet. One day, while we are still waiting there for the +public office to decide about us, he broaches the matter. It is +early evening, and we are walking beside the lake after our simple +dinner. “About here,” he says, “the quays would run and all those +big hotels would be along here, looking out on the lake. It's so +strange to have seen them so recently, and now not to see them at +all.... Where have they gone?”</p> + +<p>“Vanished by hypothesis.”</p> + +<p>“What?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! They're there still. It's we that have come hither.”</p> + +<p>“Of course. I forgot. But still― You know, there was an +avenue of little trees along this quay with seats, and she was +sitting looking out upon the lake.... I hadn't seen her for ten +years.”</p> + +<p>He looks about him still a little perplexed. “Now we are here,” +he says, “it seems as though that meeting and the talk we had must +have been a dream.”</p> + +<p>He falls musing.</p> + +<p>Presently he says: “I knew her at once. I saw her in profile. +But, you know, I didn't speak to her directly. I walked past her +seat and on for a little way, trying to control myself.... Then I +turned back and sat down beside her, very quietly. She looked up at +me. Everything came back—everything. For a moment or so I felt I +was going to cry....”</p> + +<p>That seems to give him a sort of satisfaction even in the +reminiscence.</p> + +<p>“We talked for a time just like casual acquaintances—about the +view and the weather, and things like that.”</p> + +<p>He muses again.</p> + +<p>“In Utopia everything would have been different,” I say.</p> + +<p>“I suppose it would.”</p> + +<p>He goes on before I can say anything more.</p> + +<p>“Then, you know, there was a pause. I had a sort of intuition +that the moment was coming. So I think had she. You may scoff, of +course, at these intuitions―”</p> + +<p>I don't, as a matter of fact. Instead, I swear secretly. Always +this sort of man keeps up the pretence of highly distinguished and +remarkable mental processes, whereas—have not I, in my own +composition, the whole diapason of emotional fool? Is not the +suppression of these notes my perpetual effort, my undying despair? +And then, am I to be accused of poverty?</p> + +<p>But to his story.</p> + +<p>“She said, quite abruptly, ‘I am not happy,’ and I told her, ‘I +knew that the instant I saw you.’ Then, you know, she began to talk +to me very quietly, very frankly, about everything. It was only +afterwards I began to feel just what it meant, her talking to me +like that.”</p> + +<p>I cannot listen to this!</p> + +<p>“Don't you understand,” I cry, “that we are in Utopia. She may +be bound unhappily upon earth and you may be bound, but not here. +Here I think it will be different. Here the laws that control all +these things will be humane and just. So that all you said and did, +over there, does not signify here—does not signify here!”</p> + +<p>He looks up for a moment at my face, and then carelessly at my +wonderful new world.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he says, without interest, with something of the tone of +an abstracted elder speaking to a child, “I dare say it will be all +very fine here.” And he lapses, thwarted from his confidences, into +musing.</p> + +<p>There is something almost dignified in this withdrawal into +himself. For a moment I entertain an illusion that really I am +unworthy to hear the impalpable inconclusiveness of what he said to +her and of what she said to him.</p> + +<p>I am snubbed. I am also amazed to find myself snubbed. I become +breathless with indignation. We walk along side by side, but now +profoundly estranged.</p> + +<p>I regard the façade of the Utopian public offices of +Lucerne—I had meant to call his attention to some of the +architectural features of these—with a changed eye, with all the +spirit gone out of my vision. I wish I had never brought this +introspective carcass, this mental ingrate, with me.</p> + +<p>I incline to fatalistic submission. I suppose I had no power to +leave him behind.... I wonder and I wonder. The old Utopists never +had to encumber themselves with this sort of man.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 2</h4> + +<p>How would things be “different” in the Modern Utopia? After all +it is time we faced the riddle of the problems of marriage and +motherhood....</p> + +<p>The Modern Utopia is not only to be a sound and happy World +State, but it is to be one progressing from good to better. But as +Malthus [Footnote: <i>Essay on the Principles of Population</i>.] +demonstrated for all time, a State whose population continues to +increase in obedience to unchecked instinct, can progress only from +bad to worse. From the view of human comfort and happiness, the +increase of population that occurs at each advance in human +security is the greatest evil of life. The way of Nature is for +every species to increase nearly to its possible maximum of +numbers, and then to improve through the pressure of that maximum +against its limiting conditions by the crushing and killing of all +the feebler individuals. The way of Nature has also been the way of +humanity so far, and except when a temporary alleviation is +obtained through an expansion of the general stock of sustenance by +invention or discovery, the amount of starvation and of the +physical misery of privation in the world, must vary almost exactly +with the excess of the actual birth-rate over that required to +sustain population at a number compatible with a universal +contentment. Neither has Nature evolved, nor has man so far put +into operation, any device by which paying this price of progress, +this misery of a multitude of starved and unsuccessful lives can be +evaded. A mere indiscriminating restriction of the birth-rate—an +end practically attained in the homely, old-fashioned civilisation +of China by female infanticide, involves not only the cessation of +distresses but stagnation, and the minor good of a sort of comfort +and social stability is won at too great a sacrifice. Progress +depends essentially on competitive selection, and that we may not +escape.</p> + +<p>But it is a conceivable and possible thing that this margin of +futile struggling, pain and discomfort and death might be reduced +to nearly nothing without checking physical and mental evolution, +with indeed an acceleration of physical and mental evolution, by +preventing the birth of those who would in the unrestricted +interplay of natural forces be born to suffer and fail. The method +of Nature “red in tooth and claw” is to degrade, thwart, torture, +and kill the weakest and least adapted members of every species in +existence in each generation, and so keep the specific average +rising; the ideal of a scientific civilisation is to prevent those +weaklings being born. There is no other way of evading Nature's +punishment of sorrow. The struggle for life among the beasts and +uncivilised men means misery and death for the inferior +individuals, misery and death in order that they may not increase +and multiply; in the civilised State it is now clearly possible to +make the conditions of life tolerable for every living creature, +provided the inferiors can be prevented from increasing and +multiplying. But this latter condition must be respected. Instead +of competing to escape death and wretchedness, we may compete to +give birth and we may heap every sort of consolation prize upon the +losers in that competition. The modern State tends to qualify +inheritance, to insist upon education and nurture for children, to +come in more and more in the interests of the future between father +and child. It is taking over the responsibility of the general +welfare of the children more and more, and as it does so, its right +to decide which children it will shelter becomes more and more +reasonable.</p> + +<p>How far will such conditions be prescribed? how far can they be +prescribed in a Modern Utopia?</p> + +<p>Let us set aside at once all nonsense of the sort one hears in +certain quarters about the human stud farm. [Footnote: See +<i>Mankind in the Making</i>, Ch. II.] State breeding of the +population was a reasonable proposal for Plato to make, in view of +the biological knowledge of his time and the purely tentative +nature of his metaphysics; but from anyone in the days after +Darwin, it is preposterous. Yet we have it given to us as the most +brilliant of modern discoveries by a certain school of sociological +writers, who seem totally unable to grasp the modification of +meaning “species” and “individual” have undergone in the last +fifty years. They do not seem capable of the suspicion that the +boundaries of species have vanished, and that individuality now +carries with it the quality of the unique! To them individuals are +still defective copies of a Platonic ideal of the species, and the +purpose of breeding no more than an approximation to that +perfection. Individuality is indeed a negligible difference to +them, an impertinence, and the whole flow of modern biological +ideas has washed over them in vain.</p> + +<p>But to the modern thinker individuality is the significant fact +of life, and the idea of the State, which is necessarily concerned +with the average and general, selecting individualities in order to +pair them and improve the race, an absurdity. It is like fixing a +crane on the plain in order to raise the hill tops. In the +initiative of the individual above the average, lies the reality of +the future, which the State, presenting the average, may subserve +but cannot control. And the natural centre of the emotional life, +the cardinal will, the supreme and significant expression of +individuality, should lie in the selection of a partner for +procreation.</p> + +<p>But compulsory pairing is one thing, and the maintenance of +general limiting conditions is another, and one well within the +scope of State activity. The State is justified in saying, before +you may add children to the community for the community to educate +and in part to support, you must be above a certain minimum of +personal efficiency, and this you must show by holding a position +of solvency and independence in the world; you must be above a +certain age, and a certain minimum of physical development, and +free of any transmissible disease. You must not be a criminal +unless you have expiated your offence. Failing these simple +qualifications, if you and some person conspire and add to the +population of the State, we will, for the sake of humanity, take +over the innocent victim of your passions, but we shall insist that +you are under a debt to the State of a peculiarly urgent sort, and +one you will certainly pay, even if it is necessary to use +restraint to get the payment out of you: it is a debt that has in +the last resort your liberty as a security, and, moreover, if this +thing happens a second time, or if it is disease or imbecility you +have multiplied, we will take an absolutely effectual guarantee +that neither you nor your partner offend again in this matter.</p> + +<p>“Harsh!” you say, and “Poor Humanity!”</p> + +<p>You have the gentler alternative to study in your terrestrial +slums and asylums.</p> + +<p>It may be urged that to permit conspicuously inferior people to +have one or two children in this way would be to fail to attain the +desired end, but, indeed, this is not so. A suitably qualified +permission, as every statesman knows, may produce the social +effects without producing the irksome pressure of an absolute +prohibition. Amidst bright and comfortable circumstances, and with +an easy and practicable alternative, people will exercise foresight +and self-restraint to escape even the possibilities of hardship and +discomfort; and free life in Utopia is to be well worth this +trouble even for inferior people. The growing comfort, +self-respect, and intelligence of the English is shown, for +example, in the fall in the proportion of illegitimate births from +2.2 per 1,000 in 1846-50 to 1.2 per 1,000 in 1890-1900, and this +without any positive preventive laws whatever. This most desirable +result is pretty certainly not the consequence of any great +exaltation of our moral tone, but simply of a rising standard of +comfort and a livelier sense of consequences and responsibilities. +If so marked a change is possible in response to such progress as +England has achieved in the past fifty years, if discreet restraint +can be so effectual as this, it seems reasonable to suppose that in +the ampler knowledge and the cleaner, franker atmosphere of our +Utopian planet the birth of a child to diseased or inferior +parents, and contrary to the sanctions of the State, will be the +rarest of disasters.</p> + +<p>And the death of a child, too, that most tragic event, Utopia +will rarely know. Children are not born to die in childhood. But in +our world, at present, through the defects of our medical science +and nursing methods, through defects in our organisation, through +poverty and carelessness, and through the birth of children that +never ought to have been born, one out of every five children born +dies within five years. It may be the reader has witnessed this +most distressful of all human tragedies. It is sheer waste of +suffering. There is no reason why ninety-nine out of every hundred +children born should not live to a ripe age. Accordingly, in any +Modern Utopia, it must be insisted they will.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 3</h4> + +<p>All former Utopias have, by modern standards, erred on the side +of over regulation in these matters. The amount of State +interference with the marriage and birth of the citizens of a +modern Utopia will be much less than in any terrestrial State. +Here, just as in relation to property and enterprise, the law will +regulate only in order to secure the utmost freedom and +initiative.</p> + +<p>Up to the beginning of this chapter, our Utopian speculations, +like many Acts of Parliament, have ignored the difference of sex. +“He” indeed is to be read as “He and She” in all that goes before. +But we may now come to the sexual aspects of the modern ideal of a +constitution of society in which, for all purposes of the +individual, women are to be as free as men. This will certainly be +realised in the Modern Utopia, if it can be realised at all—not +only for woman's sake, but for man's.</p> + +<p>But women may be free in theory and not in practice, and as long +as they suffer from their economic inferiority, from the inability +to produce as much value as a man for the same amount of work—and +there can be no doubt of this inferiority—so long will their legal +and technical equality be a mockery. It is a fact that almost every +point in which a woman differs from a man is an economic +disadvantage to her, her incapacity for great stresses of exertion, +her frequent liability to slight illnesses, her weaker initiative, +her inferior invention and resourcefulness, her relative incapacity +for organisation and combination, and the possibilities of +emotional complications whenever she is in economic dependence on +men. So long as women are compared economically with men and boys +they will be inferior in precisely the measure in which they differ +from men. All that constitutes this difference they are supposed +not to trade upon except in one way, and that is by winning or +luring a man to marry, selling themselves in an almost irrevocable +bargain, and then following and sharing his fortunes for “better or +worse.”</p> + +<p>But—do not let the proposition in its first crudity alarm +you—suppose the Modern Utopia equalises things between the sexes +in the only possible way, by insisting that motherhood is a service +to the State and a legitimate claim to a living; and that, since +the State is to exercise the right of forbidding or sanctioning +motherhood, a woman who is, or is becoming, a mother, is as much +entitled to wages above the minimum wage, to support, to freedom, +and to respect and dignity as a policeman, a solicitor-general, a +king, a bishop in the State Church, a Government professor, or +anyone else the State sustains. Suppose the State secures to every +woman who is, under legitimate sanctions, becoming or likely to +become a mother, that is to say who is duly married, a certain wage +from her husband to secure her against the need of toil and +anxiety, suppose it pays her a certain gratuity upon the birth of a +child, and continues to pay at regular intervals sums sufficient to +keep her and her child in independent freedom, so long as the child +keeps up to the minimum standard of health and physical and mental +development. Suppose it pays more upon the child when it rises +markedly above certain minimum qualifications, physical or mental, +and, in fact, does its best to make thoroughly efficient motherhood +a profession worth following. And suppose in correlation with this +it forbids the industrial employment of married women and of +mothers who have children needing care, unless they are in a +position to employ qualified efficient substitutes to take care of +their offspring. What differences from terrestrial conditions will +ensue?</p> + +<p>This extent of intervention will at least abolish two or three +salient hardships and evils of the civilised life. It will abolish +the hardship of the majority of widows, who on earth are poor and +encumbered exactly in proportion as they have discharged the chief +distinctive duty of a woman, and miserable, just in proportion as +their standard of life and of education is high. It will abolish +the hardship of those who do not now marry on account of poverty, +or who do not dare to have children. The fear that often turns a +woman from a beautiful to a mercenary marriage will vanish from +life. In Utopia a career of wholesome motherhood would be, under +such conditions as I have suggested, the normal and remunerative +calling for a woman, and a capable woman who has borne, bred, and +begun the education of eight or nine well-built, intelligent, and +successful sons and daughters would be an extremely prosperous +woman, quite irrespective of the economic fortunes of the man she +has married. She would need to be an exceptional woman, and she +would need to have chosen a man at least a little above the average +as her partner in life. But his death, or misbehaviour, or +misfortunes would not ruin her.</p> + +<p>Now such an arrangement is merely the completed induction from +the starting propositions that make some measure of education free +and compulsory for every child in the State. If you prevent people +making profit out of their children—and every civilised +State—even that compendium of old-fashioned Individualism, the +United States of America—is now disposed to admit the necessity of +that prohibition—and if you provide for the aged instead of +leaving them to their children's sense of duty, the practical +inducements to parentage, except among very wealthy people, are +greatly reduced. The sentimental factor in the case rarely leads to +more than a solitary child or at most two to a marriage, and with a +high and rising standard of comfort and circumspection it is +unlikely that the birth-rate will ever rise very greatly again. The +Utopians will hold that if you keep the children from profitable +employment for the sake of the future, then, if you want any but +the exceptionally rich, secure, pious, unselfish, or reckless to +bear children freely, you must be prepared to throw the cost of +their maintenance upon the general community.</p> + +<p>In short, Utopia will hold that sound childbearing and rearing +is a service done, not to a particular man, but to the whole +community, and all its legal arrangements for motherhood will be +based on that conception.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 4</h4> + +<p>And after these preliminaries we must proceed to ask, first, +what will be the Utopian marriage law, and then what sort of +customs and opinions are likely to be superadded to that law?</p> + +<p>The trend of our reasoning has brought us to the conclusion that +the Utopian State will feel justified in intervening between men +and women on two accounts, first on account of paternity, and +secondly on account of the clash of freedoms that may otherwise +arise. The Utopian State will effectually interfere with and +prescribe conditions for all sorts of contract, and for this sort +of contract in particular it will be in agreement with almost every +earthly State, in defining in the completest fashion what things a +man or woman may be bound to do, and what they cannot be bound to +do. From the point of view of a statesman, marriage is the union of +a man and woman in a manner so intimate as to involve the +probability of offspring, and it is of primary importance to the +State, first in order to secure good births, and secondly good home +conditions, that these unions should not be free, nor promiscuous, +nor practically universal throughout the adult population.</p> + +<p>Prolific marriage must be a profitable privilege. It must occur +only under certain obvious conditions, the contracting parties must +be in health and condition, free from specific transmissible +taints, above a certain minimum age, and sufficiently intelligent +and energetic to have acquired a minimum education. The man at +least must be in receipt of a net income above the minimum wage, +after any outstanding charges against him have been paid. All this +much it is surely reasonable to insist upon before the State +becomes responsible for the prospective children. The age at which +men and women may contract to marry is difficult to determine. But +if we are, as far as possible, to put women on an equality with +men, if we are to insist upon a universally educated population, +and if we are seeking to reduce the infantile death-rate to zero, +it must be much higher than it is in any terrestrial State. The +woman should be at least one-and-twenty; the man twenty-six or +twenty-seven.</p> + +<p>One imagines the parties to a projected marriage first obtaining +licenses which will testify that these conditions are satisfied. +From the point of view of the theoretical Utopian State, these +licenses are the feature of primary importance. Then, no doubt, +that universal register at Paris would come into play. As a matter +of justice, there must be no deception between the two people, and +the State will ensure that in certain broad essentials this is so. +They would have to communicate their joint intention to a public +office after their personal licenses were granted, and each would +be supplied with a copy of the index card of the projected mate, on +which would be recorded his or her age, previous marriages, legally +important diseases, offspring, domiciles, public appointments, +criminal convictions, registered assignments of property, and so +forth. Possibly it might be advisable to have a little ceremony for +each party, for each in the absence of the other, in which this +record could be read over in the presence of witnesses, together +with some prescribed form of address of counsel in the matter. +There would then be a reasonable interval for consideration and +withdrawal on the part of either spouse. In the event of the two +people persisting in their resolution, they would after this +minimum interval signify as much to the local official and the +necessary entry would be made in the registers. These formalities +would be quite independent of any religious ceremonial the +contracting parties might choose, for with religious belief and +procedure the modern State has no concern.</p> + +<p>So much for the preliminary conditions of matrimony. For those +men and women who chose to ignore these conditions and to achieve +any sort of union they liked the State would have no concern, +unless offspring were born illegitimately. In that case, as we have +already suggested, it would be only reasonable to make the parents +chargeable with every duty, with maintenance, education, and so +forth, that in the normal course of things would fall to the State. +It would be necessary to impose a life assurance payment upon these +parents, and to exact effectual guarantees against every possible +evasion of the responsibility they had incurred. But the further +control of private morality, beyond the protection of the immature +from corruption and evil example, will be no concern of the +State's. When a child comes in, the future of the species comes in; +and the State comes in as the guardian of interests wider than the +individual's; but the adult's private life is the entirely private +life into which the State may not intrude.</p> + +<p>Now what will be the nature of the Utopian contract of +matrimony?</p> + +<p>From the first of the two points of view named above, that of +parentage, it is obvious that one unavoidable condition will be the +chastity of the wife. Her infidelity being demonstrated, must at +once terminate the marriage and release both her husband and the +State from any liability for the support of her illegitimate +offspring. That, at any rate, is beyond controversy; a marriage +contract that does not involve that, is a triumph of metaphysics +over common sense. It will be obvious that under Utopian conditions +it is the State that will suffer injury by a wife's misconduct, and +that a husband who condones anything of the sort will participate +in her offence. A woman, therefore, who is divorced on this account +will be divorced as a public offender, and not in the key of a +personal quarrel; not as one who has inflicted a private and +personal wrong. This, too, lies within the primary implications of +marriage.</p> + +<p>Beyond that, what conditions should a marriage contract in +Utopia involve?</p> + +<p>A reciprocal restraint on the part of the husband is clearly of +no importance whatever, so far as the first end of matrimony goes, +the protection of the community from inferior births. It is no +wrong to the State. But it does carry with it a variable amount of +emotional offence to the wife; it may wound her pride and cause her +violent perturbations of jealousy; it may lead to her neglect, her +solitude and unhappiness, and it may even work to her physical +injury. There should be an implication that it is not to occur. She +has bound herself to the man for the good of the State, and clearly +it is reasonable that she should look to the State for relief if it +does occur. The extent of the offence given her is the exact +measure of her injury; if she does not mind nobody minds, and if +her self-respect does not suffer nothing whatever is lost to the +world; and so it should rest with her to establish his misconduct, +and, if she thinks fit, to terminate the marriage.</p> + +<p>A failure on either side to perform the elementary duties of +companionship, desertion, for example, should obviously give the +other mate the right to relief, and clearly the development of any +disqualifying habit, drunkenness, or drug-taking, or the like, or +any serious crime or acts of violence, should give grounds for a +final release. Moreover, the modern Utopian State intervenes +between the sexes only because of the coming generation, and for it +to sustain restrictions upon conduct in a continually fruitless +marriage is obviously to lapse into purely moral intervention. It +seems reasonable, therefore, to set a term to a marriage that +remains childless, to let it expire at the end of three or four or +five unfruitful years, but with no restriction upon the right of +the husband and wife to marry each other again.</p> + +<p>These are the fairly easy primaries of this question. We now +come to the more difficult issues of the matter. The first of these +is the question of the economic relationships of husband and wife, +having regard to the fact that even in Utopia women, at least until +they become mothers, are likely to be on the average poorer than +men. The second is the question of the duration of a marriage. But +the two interlock, and are, perhaps, best treated together in one +common section. And they both ramify in the most complicated manner +into the consideration of the general morale of the community.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 5</h4> + +<p>This question of marriage is the most complicated and difficult +in the whole range of Utopian problems. But it is happily not the +most urgent necessity that it should be absolutely solved. The +urgent and necessary problem is the ruler. With rulers rightly +contrived and a provisional defective marriage law a Utopia may be +conceived as existing and studying to perfect itself, but without +rulers a Utopia is impossible though the theory of its matrimony be +complete. And the difficulty in this question is not simply the +difficulty of a complicated chess problem, for example, in which +the whole tangle of considerations does at least lie in one plane, +but a series of problems upon different levels and containing +incommensurable factors.</p> + +<p>It is very easy to repeat our initial propositions, to recall +that we are on another planet, and that all the customs and +traditions of the earth are set aside, but the faintest realisation +of that demands a feat of psychological insight. We have all grown +up into an invincible mould of suggestion about sexual things; we +regard this with approval, that with horror, and this again with +contempt, very largely because the thing has always been put to us +in this light or that. The more emancipated we think ourselves the +more subtle are our bonds. The disentanglement of what is inherent +in these feelings from what is acquired is an extraordinary complex +undertaking. Probably all men and women have a more or less +powerful disposition to jealousy, but what exactly they will be +jealous about and what exactly they will suffer seems part of the +superposed factor. Probably all men and women are capable of ideal +emotions and wishes beyond merely physical desires, but the shape +these take are almost entirely a reaction to external images. And +you really cannot strip the external off; you cannot get your stark +natural man, jealous, but not jealous about anything in particular, +imaginative without any imaginings, proud at large. Emotional +dispositions can no more exist without form than a man without air. +Only a very observant man who had lived all over the planet Earth, +in all sorts of social strata, and with every race and tongue, and +who was endowed with great imaginative insight, could hope to +understand the possibilities and the limitations of human +plasticity in this matter, and say what any men and any women could +be induced to do willingly, and just exactly what no man and no +woman could stand, provided one had the training of them. Though +very young men will tell you readily enough. The proceedings of +other races and other ages do not seem to carry conviction; what +our ancestors did, or what the Greeks or Egyptians did, though it +is the direct physical cause of the modern young man or the modern +young lady, is apt to impress these remarkable consequences merely +as an arrangement of quaint, comical or repulsive proceedings.</p> + +<p>But there emerges to the modern inquirer certain ideals and +desiderata that at least go some way towards completing and +expanding the crude primaries of a Utopian marriage law set out in +§ 4.</p> + +<p>The sound birth being assured, does there exist any valid reason +for the persistence of the Utopian marriage union?</p> + +<p>There are two lines of reasoning that go to establish a longer +duration for marriage. The first of these rests upon the general +necessity for a home and for individual attention in the case of +children. Children are the results of a choice between individuals; +they grow well, as a rule, only in relation to sympathetic and +kindred individualities, and no wholesale character-ignoring method +of dealing with them has ever had a shadow of the success of the +individualised home. Neither Plato nor Socrates, who repudiated the +home, seems ever to have had to do with anything younger than a +young man. Procreation is only the beginning of parentage, and even +where the mother is not the direct nurse and teacher of her child, +even where she delegates these duties, her supervision is, in the +common case, essential to its welfare. Moreover, though the Utopian +State will pay the mother, and the mother only, for the being and +welfare of her legitimate children, there will be a clear advantage +in fostering the natural disposition of the father to associate his +child's welfare with his individual egotism, and to dispense some +of his energies and earnings in supplementing the common provision +of the State. It is an absurd disregard of a natural economy to +leave the innate philoprogenitiveness of either sex uncultivated. +Unless the parents continue in close relationship, if each is +passing through a series of marriages, the dangers of a conflict of +rights, and of the frittering away of emotions, become very grave. +The family will lose homogeneity, and its individuals will have for +the mother varied and perhaps incompatible emotional associations. +The balance of social advantage is certainly on the side of much +more permanent unions, on the side of an arrangement that, subject +to ample provisions for a formal divorce without disgrace in cases +of incompatibility, would bind, or at least enforce ideals that +would tend to bind, a man and woman together for the whole term of +her maternal activity, until, that is, the last born of her +children was no longer in need of her help.</p> + +<p>The second system of considerations arises out of the +artificiality of woman's position. It is a less conclusive series +than the first, and it opens a number of interesting side +vistas.</p> + +<p>A great deal of nonsense is talked about the natural equality or +inferiority of women to men. But it is only the same quality that +can be measured by degrees and ranged in ascending and descending +series, and the things that are essentially feminine are different +qualitatively from and incommensurable with the distinctly +masculine things. The relationship is in the region of ideals and +conventions, and a State is perfectly free to determine that men +and women shall come to intercourse on a footing of conventional +equality or with either the man or woman treated as the +predominating individual. Aristotle's criticism of Plato in this +matter, his insistence upon the natural inferiority of slaves and +women, is just the sort of confusion between inherent and imposed +qualities that was his most characteristic weakness. The spirit of +the European people, of almost all the peoples now in the +ascendant, is towards a convention of equality; the spirit of the +Mahometan world is towards the intensification of a convention that +the man alone is a citizen and that the woman is very largely his +property. There can be no doubt that the latter of these two +convenient fictions is the more primitive way of regarding this +relationship. It is quite unfruitful to argue between these ideals +as if there were a demonstrable conclusion, the adoption of either +is an arbitrary act, and we shall simply follow our age and time if +we display a certain bias for the former.</p> + +<p>If one looks closely into the various practical expansions of +these ideas, we find their inherent falsity works itself out in a +very natural way so soon as reality is touched. Those who insist +upon equality work in effect for assimilation, for a similar +treatment of the sexes. Plato's women of the governing class, for +example, were to strip for gymnastics like men, to bear arms and go +to war, and follow most of the masculine occupations of their +class. They were to have the same education and to be assimilated +to men at every doubtful point. The Aristotelian attitude, on the +other hand, insists upon specialisation. The men are to rule and +fight and toil; the women are to support motherhood in a state of +natural inferiority. The trend of evolutionary forces through long +centuries of human development has been on the whole in this second +direction, has been towards differentiation. [Footnote: See +Havelock Ellis's <i>Man and Woman</i>.] An adult white woman +differs far more from a white man than a negress or pigmy woman +from her equivalent male. The education, the mental disposition, of +a white or Asiatic woman, reeks of sex; her modesty, her decorum is +not to ignore sex but to refine and put a point to it; her costume +is clamorous with the distinctive elements of her form. The white +woman in the materially prosperous nations is more of a sexual +specialist than her sister of the poor and austere peoples, of the +prosperous classes more so than the peasant woman. The contemporary +woman of fashion who sets the tone of occidental intercourse is a +stimulant rather than a companion for a man. Too commonly she is an +unwholesome stimulant turning a man from wisdom to appearance, from +beauty to beautiful pleasures, from form to colour, from persistent +aims to belief and stirring triumphs. Arrayed in what she calls +distinctly “dress,” scented, adorned, displayed, she achieves by +artifice a sexual differentiation profounder than that of any other +vertebrated animal. She outshines the peacock's excess above his +mate, one must probe among the domestic secrets of the insects and +crustacea to find her living parallel. And it is a question by no +means easy and yet of the utmost importance, to determine how far +the wide and widening differences between the human sexes is +inherent and inevitable, and how far it is an accident of social +development that may be converted and reduced under a different +social regimen. Are we going to recognise and accentuate this +difference and to arrange our Utopian organisation to play upon it, +are we to have two primary classes of human being, harmonising +indeed and reacting, but following essentially different lives, or +are we going to minimise this difference in every possible way?</p> + +<p>The former alternative leads either to a romantic organisation +of society in which men will live and fight and die for wonderful, +beautiful, exaggerated creatures, or it leads to the hareem. It +would probably lead through one phase to the other. Women would be +enigmas and mysteries and maternal dignitaries that one would +approach in a state of emotional excitement and seclude piously +when serious work was in hand. A girl would blossom from the +totally negligible to the mystically desirable at adolescence, and +boys would be removed from their mother's educational influence at +as early an age as possible. Whenever men and women met together, +the men would be in a state of inflamed competition towards one +another, and the women likewise, and the intercourse of ideas would +be in suspense. Under the latter alternative the sexual relation +would be subordinated to friendship and companionship; boys and +girls would be co-educated—very largely under maternal direction, +and women, disarmed of their distinctive barbaric adornments, the +feathers, beads, lace, and trimmings that enhance their clamorous +claim to a directly personal attention would mingle, according to +their quality, in the counsels and intellectual development of men. +Such women would be fit to educate boys even up to adolescence. It +is obvious that a marriage law embodying a decision between these +two sets of ideas would be very different according to the +alternative adopted. In the former case a man would be expected to +earn and maintain in an adequate manner the dear delight that had +favoured him. He would tell her beautiful lies about her wonderful +moral effect upon him, and keep her sedulously from all +responsibility and knowledge. And, since there is an undeniably +greater imaginative appeal to men in the first bloom of a woman's +youth, she would have a distinct claim upon his energies for the +rest of her life. In the latter case a man would no more pay for +and support his wife than she would do so for him. They would be +two friends, differing in kind no doubt but differing reciprocally, +who had linked themselves in a matrimonial relationship. Our +Utopian marriage so far as we have discussed it, is indeterminate +between these alternatives.</p> + +<p>We have laid it down as a general principle that the private +morals of an adult citizen are no concern for the State. But that +involves a decision to disregard certain types of bargain. A sanely +contrived State will refuse to sustain bargains wherein there is no +plausibly fair exchange, and if private morality is really to be +outside the scope of the State then the affections and endearments +most certainly must not be regarded as negotiable commodities. The +State, therefore, will absolutely ignore the distribution of these +favours unless children, or at least the possibility of children, +is involved. It follows that it will refuse to recognise any debts +or transfers of property that are based on such considerations. It +will be only consistent, therefore, to refuse recognition in the +marriage contract to any financial obligation between husband and +wife, or any settlements qualifying that contract, except when they +are in the nature of accessory provision for the prospective +children. [Footnote: Unqualified gifts for love by solvent people +will, of course, be quite possible and permissible, unsalaried +services and the like, provided the standard of life is maintained +and the joint income of the couple between whom the services hold +does not sink below twice the minimum wage.] So far the Utopian +State will throw its weight upon the side of those who advocate the +independence of women and their conventional equality with men.</p> + +<p>But to any further definition of the marriage relation the World +State of Utopia will not commit itself. The wide range of +relationships that are left possible, within and without the +marriage code, are entirely a matter for the individual choice and +imagination. Whether a man treat his wife in private as a goddess +to be propitiated, as a “mystery” to be adored, as an agreeable +auxiliary, as a particularly intimate friend, or as the wholesome +mother of his children, is entirely a matter for their private +intercourse: whether he keep her in Oriental idleness or active +co-operation, or leave her to live her independent life, rests with +the couple alone, and all the possible friendship and intimacies +outside marriage also lie quite beyond the organisation of the +modern State. Religious teaching and literature may affect these; +customs may arise; certain types of relationship may involve social +isolation; the justice of the statesman is blind to such things. It +may be urged that according to Atkinson's illuminating analysis +[Footnote: See Lang and Atkinson's <i>Social Origins and Primal +Law</i>.] the control of love-making was the very origin of the +human community. In Utopia, nevertheless, love-making is no concern +of the State's beyond the province that the protection of children +covers. [Footnote: It cannot be made too clear that though the +control of morality is outside the law the State must maintain a +general decorum, a systematic suppression of powerful and moving +examples, and of incitations and temptations of the young and +inexperienced, and to that extent it will, of course, in a sense, +exercise a control over morals. But this will be only part of a +wider law to safeguard the tender mind. For example, lying +advertisements, and the like, when they lean towards adolescent +interests, will encounter a specially disagreeable disposition in +the law, over and above the treatment of their general dishonesty.] +Change of function is one of the ruling facts in life, the sac that +was in our remotest ancestors a swimming bladder is now a lung, and +the State which was once, perhaps, no more than the jealous and +tyrannous will of the strongest male in the herd, the instrument of +justice and equality. The State intervenes now only where there is +want of harmony between individuals—individuals who exist or who +may presently come into existence.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 6</h4> + +<p>It must be reiterated that our reasoning still leaves Utopian +marriage an institution with wide possibilities of variation. We +have tried to give effect to the ideal of a virtual equality, an +equality of spirit between men and women, and in doing so we have +overridden the accepted opinion of the great majority of mankind. +Probably the first writer to do as much was Plato. His argument in +support of this innovation upon natural human feeling was thin +enough—a mere analogy to illustrate the spirit of his +propositions; it was his creative instinct that determined him. In +the atmosphere of such speculations as this, Plato looms very large +indeed, and in view of what we owe to him, it seems reasonable that +we should hesitate before dismissing as a thing prohibited and +evil, a type of marriage that he made almost the central feature in +the organisation of the ruling class, at least, of his ideal State. +He was persuaded that the narrow monogamic family is apt to become +illiberal and anti-social, to withdraw the imagination and energies +of the citizen from the services of the community as a whole, and +the Roman Catholic Church has so far endorsed and substantiated his +opinion as to forbid family relations to its priests and +significant servants. He conceived of a poetic devotion to the +public idea, a devotion of which the mind of Aristotle, as his +criticisms of Plato show, was incapable, as a substitute for the +warm and tender but illiberal emotions of the home. But while the +Church made the alternative to family ties celibacy [Footnote: The +warm imagination of Campanella, that quaint Calabrian monastic, +fired by Plato, reversed this aspect of the Church.] and +participation in an organisation, Plato was far more in accordance +with modern ideas in perceiving the disadvantage that would result +from precluding the nobler types of character from offspring. He +sought a way to achieve progeny, therefore, without the narrow +concentration of the sympathies about the home, and he found it in +a multiple marriage in which every member of the governing class +was considered to be married to all the others. But the detailed +operation of this system he put tentatively and very obscurely. His +suggestions have the experimental inconsistency of an enquiring +man. He left many things altogether open, and it is unfair to him +to adopt Aristotle's forensic method and deal with his discussion +as though it was a fully-worked-out project. It is clear that Plato +intended every member of his governing class to be so “changed at +birth” as to leave paternity untraceable; mothers were not to know +their children, nor children their parents, but there is nothing to +forbid the supposition that he intended these people to select and +adhere to congenial mates within the great family. Aristotle's +assertion that the Platonic republic left no scope for the virtue +of continence shows that he had jumped to just the same conclusions +a contemporary London errand boy, hovering a little shamefacedly +over Jowett in a public library, might be expected to reach.</p> + +<p>Aristotle obscures Plato's intention, it may be accidentally, by +speaking of his marriage institution as a community of wives. When +reading Plato he could not or would not escape reading in his own +conception of the natural ascendency of men, his idea of property +in women and children. But as Plato intended women to be +conventionally equal to men, this phrase belies him altogether; +community of husbands and wives would be truer to his proposal. +Aristotle condemns Plato as roundly as any commercial room would +condemn him to-day, and in much the same spirit; he asserts rather +than proves that such a grouping is against the nature of man. He +wanted to have women property just as he wanted to have slaves +property, he did not care to ask why, and it distressed his +conception of convenience extremely to imagine any other +arrangement. It is no doubt true that the natural instinct of +either sex is exclusive of participators in intimacy during a +period of intimacy, but it was probably Aristotle who gave Plato an +offensive interpretation in this matter. No one would freely submit +to such a condition of affairs as multiple marriage carried out, in +the spirit of the Aristotelian interpretation, to an obscene +completeness, but that is all the more reason why the modern Utopia +should not refuse a grouped marriage to three or more freely +consenting persons. There is no sense in prohibiting institutions +which no sane people could ever want to abuse. It is +claimed—though the full facts are difficult to ascertain—that a +group marriage of over two hundred persons was successfully +organised by John Humphrey Noyes at Oneida Creek. [Footnote: See +John H. Noyes's <i>History of American Socialisms</i> and his +writings generally. The bare facts of this and the other American +experiments are given, together with more recent matter, by Morris +Hillquirt, in <i>The History of Socialism in the United +States</i>.] It is fairly certain in the latter case that there was +no “promiscuity,” and that the members mated for variable periods, +and often for life, within the group. The documents are reasonably +clear upon that point. This Oneida community was, in fact, a league +of two hundred persons to regard their children as “common.” Choice +and preference were not abolished in the community, though in some +cases they were set aside—just as they are by many parents under +our present conditions. There seems to have been a premature +attempt at “stirpiculture,” at what Mr. Francis Galton now calls +“Eugenics,” in the mating of the members, and there was also a +limitation of offspring. Beyond these points the inner secrets of +the community do not appear to be very profound; its atmosphere was +almost commonplace, it was made up of very ordinary people. There +is no doubt that it had a career of exceptional success throughout +the whole lifetime of its founder, and it broke down with the +advent of a new generation, with the onset of theological +differences, and the loss of its guiding intelligence. The +Anglo-Saxon spirit, it has been said by one of the ablest children +of the experiment, is too individualistic for communism. It is +possible to regard the temporary success of this complex family as +a strange accident, as the wonderful exploit of what was certainly +a very exceptional man. Its final disintegration into frankly +monogamic couples—it is still a prosperous business +association—may be taken as an experimental verification of +Aristotle's common-sense psychology, and was probably merely the +public acknowledgment of conditions already practically +established.</p> + +<p>Out of respect for Plato we cannot ignore this possibility of +multiple marriage altogether in our Utopian theorising, but even if +we leave this possibility open we are still bound to regard it as a +thing so likely to be rare as not to come at all under our direct +observation during our Utopian journeyings. But in one sense, of +course, in the sense that the State guarantees care and support for +all properly born children, our entire Utopia is to be regarded as +a comprehensive marriage group. [Footnote: The Thelema of Rabelais, +with its principle of “Fay ce que vouldras” within the limits of +the order, is probably intended to suggest a Platonic complex +marriage after the fashion of our interpretation.]</p> + +<p>It must be remembered that a modern Utopia must differ from the +Utopias of any preceding age in being world-wide; it is not, +therefore, to be the development of any special race or type of +culture, as Plato's developed an Athenian-Spartan blend, or More, +Tudor England. The modern Utopia is to be, before all things, +synthetic. Politically and socially, as linguistically, we must +suppose it a synthesis; politically it will be a synthesis of once +widely different forms of government; socially and morally, a +synthesis of a great variety of domestic traditions and ethical +habits. Into the modern Utopia there must have entered the mental +tendencies and origins that give our own world the polygamy of the +Zulus and of Utah, the polyandry of Tibet, the latitudes of +experiment permitted in the United States, and the divorceless +wedlock of Comte. The tendency of all synthetic processes in +matters of law and custom is to reduce and simplify the compulsory +canon, to admit alternatives and freedoms; what were laws before +become traditions of feeling and style, and in no matter will this +be more apparent than in questions affecting the relations of the +sexes.</p> + +<h3 align="center">CHAPTER THE SEVENTH<br> +A Few Utopian Impressions</h3> + +<h4 align="center">§ 1</h4> + +<p>But now we are in a better position to describe the houses and +ways of the Utopian townships about the Lake of Lucerne, and to +glance a little more nearly at the people who pass. You figure us +as curiously settled down in Utopia, as working for a low wage at +wood-carving, until the authorities at the central registry in +Paris can solve the perplexing problem we have set them. We stay in +an inn looking out upon the lake, and go to and fro for our five +hours' work a day, with a curious effect of having been born +Utopians. The rest of our time is our own.</p> + +<p>Our inn is one of those inns and lodging houses which have a +minimum tariff, inns which are partly regulated, and, in the +default of private enterprise, maintained and controlled by the +World State throughout the entire world. It is one of several such +establishments in Lucerne. It possesses many hundreds of +practically self-cleaning little bedrooms, equipped very much after +the fashion of the rooms we occupied in the similar but much +smaller inn at Hospenthal, differing only a little in the +decoration. There is the same dressing-room recess with its bath, +the same graceful proportion in the succinct simplicity of its +furniture. This particular inn is a quadrangle after the fashion of +an Oxford college; it is perhaps forty feet high, and with about +five stories of bedrooms above its lower apartments; the windows of +the rooms look either outward or inward to the quadrangle, and the +doors give upon artificially-lit passages with staircases passing +up and down. These passages are carpeted with a sort of cork +carpet, but are otherwise bare. The lower story is occupied by the +equivalent of a London club, kitchens and other offices, +dining-room, writing-room, smoking and assembly rooms, a barber's +shop, and a library. A colonnade with seats runs about the +quadrangle, and in the middle is a grass-plot. In the centre of +this a bronze figure, a sleeping child, reposes above a little +basin and fountain, in which water lilies are growing. The place +has been designed by an architect happily free from the hampering +traditions of Greek temple building, and of Roman and Italian +palaces; it is simple, unaffected, gracious. The material is some +artificial stone with the dull surface and something of the tint of +yellow ivory; the colour is a little irregular, and a partial +confession of girders and pillars breaks this front of tender +colour with lines and mouldings of greenish gray, that blend with +the tones of the leaden gutters and rain pipes from the light red +roof. At one point only does any explicit effort towards artistic +effect appear, and that is in the great arched gateway opposite my +window. Two or three abundant yellow roses climb over the face of +the building, and when I look out of my window in the early +morning—for the usual Utopian working day commences within an hour +of sunrise—I see Pilatus above this outlook, rosy in the morning +sky.</p> + +<p>This quadrangle type of building is the prevalent element in +Utopian Lucerne, and one may go from end to end of the town along +corridors and covered colonnades without emerging by a gateway into +the open roads at all. Small shops are found in these colonnades, +but the larger stores are usually housed in buildings specially +adapted to their needs. The majority of the residential edifices +are far finer and more substantial than our own modest shelter, +though we gather from such chance glimpses as we get of their +arrangements that the labour-saving ideal runs through every grade +of this servantless world; and what we should consider a complete +house in earthly England is hardly known here.</p> + +<p>The autonomy of the household has been reduced far below +terrestrial conditions by hotels and clubs, and all sorts of +co-operative expedients. People who do not live in hotels seem +usually to live in clubs. The fairly prosperous Utopian belongs, in +most cases, to one or two residential clubs of congenial men and +women. These clubs usually possess in addition to furnished +bedrooms more or less elaborate suites of apartments, and if a man +prefers it one of these latter can be taken and furnished according +to his personal taste. A pleasant boudoir, a private library and +study, a private garden plot, are among the commonest of such +luxuries. Devices to secure roof gardens, loggias, verandahs, and +such-like open-air privacies to the more sumptuous of these +apartments, give interest and variety to Utopian architecture. +There are sometimes little cooking corners in these flats—as one +would call them on earth—but the ordinary Utopian would no more +think of a special private kitchen for his dinners than he would +think of a private flour mill or dairy farm. Business, private +work, and professional practice go on sometimes in the house +apartments, but often in special offices in the great warren of the +business quarter. A common garden, an infant school, play rooms, +and a playing garden for children, are universal features of the +club quadrangles.</p> + +<p>Two or three main roads with their tramways, their cyclists' +paths, and swift traffic paths, will converge on the urban centre, +where the public offices will stand in a group close to the two or +three theatres and the larger shops, and hither, too, in the case +of Lucerne, the head of the swift railway to Paris and England and +Scotland, and to the Rhineland and Germany will run. And as one +walks out from the town centre one will come to that mingling of +homesteads and open country which will be the common condition of +all the more habitable parts of the globe.</p> + +<p>Here and there, no doubt, will stand quite solitary homesteads, +homesteads that will nevertheless be lit and warmed by cables from +the central force station, that will share the common water supply, +will have their perfected telephonic connection with the rest of +the world, with doctor, shop, and so forth, and may even have a +pneumatic tube for books and small parcels to the nearest +post-office. But the solitary homestead, as a permanent residence, +will be something of a luxury—the resort of rather wealthy garden +lovers; and most people with a bias for retirement will probably +get as much residential solitude as they care for in the hire of a +holiday châlet in a forest, by remote lagoons or high up the +mountain side.</p> + +<p>The solitary house may indeed prove to be very rare indeed in +Utopia. The same forces, the same facilitation of communications +that will diffuse the towns will tend to little concentrations of +the agricultural population over the country side. The field +workers will probably take their food with them to their work +during the day, and for the convenience of an interesting dinner +and of civilised intercourse after the working day is over, they +will most probably live in a college quadrangle with a common room +and club. I doubt if there will be any agricultural labourers +drawing wages in Utopia. I am inclined to imagine farming done by +tenant associations, by little democratic unlimited liability +companies working under elected managers, and paying not a fixed +rent but a share of the produce to the State. Such companies could +reconstruct annually to weed out indolent members. [Footnote: +Schemes for the co-operative association of producers will be found +in Dr. Hertzka's <i>Freeland</i>.] A minimum standard of efficiency +in farming would be insured by fixing a minimum beneath which the +rent must not fall, and perhaps by inspection. The general laws +respecting the standard of life would, of course, apply to such +associations. This type of co-operation presents itself to me as +socially the best arrangement for productive agriculture and +horticulture, but such enterprises as stock breeding, seed farming +and the stocking and loan of agricultural implements are probably, +and agricultural research and experiment certainly, best handled +directly by large companies or the municipality or the State.</p> + +<p>But I should do little to investigate this question; these are +presented as quite incidental impressions. You must suppose that +for the most part our walks and observations keep us within the +more urban quarters of Lucerne. From a number of beautifully +printed placards at the street corners, adorned with caricatures of +considerable pungency, we discover an odd little election is in +progress. This is the selection, upon strictly democratic lines, +with a suffrage that includes every permanent resident in the +Lucerne ward over the age of fifteen, of the ugliest local +building. The old little urban and local governing bodies, we find, +have long since been superseded by great provincial municipalities +for all the more serious administrative purposes, but they still +survive to discharge a number of curious minor functions, and not +the least among these is this sort of æsthetic ostracism. Every +year every minor local governing body pulls down a building +selected by local plebiscite, and the greater Government pays a +slight compensation to the owner, and resumes possession of the +land it occupies. The idea would strike us at first as simply +whimsical, but in practice it appears to work as a cheap and +practical device for the æsthetic education of builders, +engineers, business men, opulent persons, and the general body of +the public. But when we come to consider its application to our own +world we should perceive it was the most Utopian thing we had so +far encountered.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 2</h4> + +<p>The factory that employs us is something very different from the +ordinary earthly model. Our business is to finish making little +wooden toys—bears, cattle men, and the like—for children. The +things are made in the rough by machinery, and then finished by +hand, because the work of unskilful but interested men—and it +really is an extremely amusing employment—is found to give a +personality and interest to these objects no machine can ever +attain.</p> + +<p>We carvers—who are the riffraff of Utopia—work in a long shed +together, nominally by time; we must keep at the job for the length +of the spell, but we are expected to finish a certain number of +toys for each spell of work. The rules of the game as between +employer and employed in this particular industry hang on the wall +behind us; they are drawn up by a conference of the Common Council +of Wages Workers with the employers, a common council which has +resulted in Utopia from a synthesis of the old Trades Unions, and +which has become a constitutional power; but any man who has skill +or humour is presently making his own bargain with our employer +more or less above that datum line.</p> + +<p>Our employer is a quiet blue-eyed man with a humorous smile. He +dresses wholly in an indigo blue, that later we come to consider a +sort of voluntary uniform for Utopian artists. As he walks about +the workshop, stopping to laugh at this production or praise that, +one is reminded inevitably of an art school. Every now and then he +carves a little himself or makes a sketch or departs to the +machinery to order some change in the rough shapes it is turning +out. Our work is by no means confined to animals. After a time I am +told to specialise in a comical little Roman-nosed pony; but +several of the better paid carvers work up caricature images of +eminent Utopians. Over these our employer is most disposed to +meditate, and from them he darts off most frequently to improve the +type.</p> + +<p>It is high summer, and our shed lies open at either end. On one +hand is a steep mountain side down which there comes, now bridging +a chasm, now a mere straight groove across a meadow, now hidden +among green branches, the water-slide that brings our trees from +the purple forest overhead. Above us, but nearly hidden, hums the +machine shed, but we see a corner of the tank into which, with a +mighty splash, the pine trees are delivered. Every now and then, +bringing with him a gust of resinous smell, a white-clad machinist +will come in with a basketful of crude, unwrought little images, +and will turn them out upon the table from which we carvers select +them.</p> + +<p>(Whenever I think of Utopia that faint and fluctuating smell of +resin returns to me, and whenever I smell resin, comes the memory +of the open end of the shed looking out upon the lake, the +blue-green lake, the boats mirrored in the water, and far and high +beyond floats the atmospheric fairyland of the mountains of Glarus, +twenty miles away.)</p> + +<p>The cessation of the second and last spell of work comes about +midday, and then we walk home, through this beautiful intricacy of +a town to our cheap hotel beside the lake.</p> + +<p>We should go our way with a curious contentment, for all that we +were earning scarcely more than the minimum wage. We should have, +of course, our uneasiness about the final decisions of that +universal eye which has turned upon us, we should have those +ridiculous sham numbers on our consciences; but that general +restlessness, that brooding stress that pursues the weekly worker +on earth, that aching anxiety that drives him so often to stupid +betting, stupid drinking, and violent and mean offences will have +vanished out of mortal experience.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 3</h4> + +<p>I should find myself contrasting my position with my +preconceptions about a Utopian visit. I had always imagined myself +as standing outside the general machinery of the State—in the +distinguished visitors' gallery, as it were—and getting the new +world in a series of comprehensive perspective views. But this +Utopia, for all the sweeping floats of generalisation I do my best +to maintain, is swallowing me up. I find myself going between my +work and the room in which I sleep and the place in which I dine, +very much as I went to and fro in that real world into which I fell +five-and-forty years ago. I find about me mountains and horizons +that limit my view, institutions that vanish also without an +explanation, beyond the limit of sight, and a great complexity of +things I do not understand and about which, to tell the truth, I do +not formulate acute curiosities. People, very unrepresentative +people, people just as casual as people in the real world, come +into personal relations with us, and little threads of private and +immediate interest spin themselves rapidly into a thickening grey +veil across the general view. I lose the comprehensive +interrogation of my first arrival; I find myself interested in the +grain of the wood I work, in birds among the tree branches, in +little irrelevant things, and it is only now and then that I get +fairly back to the mood that takes all Utopia for its picture.</p> + +<p>We spend our first surplus of Utopian money in the +reorganisation of our wardrobes upon more Utopian lines; we develop +acquaintance with several of our fellow workers, and of those who +share our table at the inn. We pass insensibly into +acquaintanceships and the beginnings of friendships. The World +Utopia, I say, seems for a time to be swallowing me up. At the +thought of detail it looms too big for me. The question of +government, of its sustaining ideas, of race, and the wider future, +hang like the arch of the sky over these daily incidents, very +great indeed, but very remote. These people about me are everyday +people, people not so very far from the minimum wage, accustomed +much as the everyday people of earth are accustomed to take their +world as they find it. Such enquiries as I attempt are pretty +obviously a bore to them, pass outside their range as completely as +Utopian speculation on earth outranges a stevedore or a member of +Parliament or a working plumber. Even the little things of daily +life interest them in a different way. So I get on with my facts +and reasoning rather slowly. I find myself looking among the +pleasant multitudes of the streets for types that promise congenial +conversation.</p> + +<p>My sense of loneliness is increased during this interlude by the +better social success of the botanist. I find him presently falling +into conversation with two women who are accustomed to sit at a +table near our own. They wear the loose, coloured robes of soft +material that are the usual wear of common adult Utopian women; +they are both dark and sallow, and they affect amber and crimson in +their garments. Their faces strike me as a little unintelligent, +and there is a faint touch of middle-aged coquetry in their bearing +that I do not like. Yet on earth we should consider them women of +exceptional refinement. But the botanist evidently sees in this +direction scope for the feelings that have wilted a little under my +inattention, and he begins that petty intercourse of a word, of a +slight civility, of vague enquiries and comparisons that leads at +last to associations and confidences. Such superficial confidences, +that is to say, as he finds satisfactory.</p> + +<p>This throws me back upon my private observations.</p> + +<p>The general effect of a Utopian population is vigour. Everyone +one meets seems to be not only in good health but in training; one +rarely meets fat people, bald people, or bent or grey. People who +would be obese or bent and obviously aged on earth are here in good +repair, and as a consequence the whole effect of a crowd is +livelier and more invigorating than on earth. The dress is varied +and graceful; that of the women reminds one most of the Italian +fifteenth century; they have an abundance of soft and +beautifully-coloured stuffs, and the clothes, even of the poorest, +fit admirably. Their hair is very simply but very carefully and +beautifully dressed, and except in very sunny weather they do not +wear hats or bonnets. There is little difference in deportment +between one class and another; they all are graceful and bear +themselves with quiet dignity, and among a group of them a European +woman of fashion in her lace and feathers, her hat and metal +ornaments, her mixed accumulations of “trimmings,” would look like +a barbarian tricked out with the miscellaneous plunder of a museum. +Boys and girls wear much the same sort of costume—brown leather +shoes, then a sort of combination of hose and close-fitting +trousers that reaches from toe to waist, and over this a beltless +jacket fitting very well, or a belted tunic. Many slender women +wear the same sort of costume. We should see them in it very often +in such a place as Lucerne, as they returned from expeditions in +the mountains. The older men would wear long robes very frequently, +but the greater proportion of the men would go in variations of +much the same costume as the children. There would certainly be +hooded cloaks and umbrellas for rainy weather, high boots for mud +and snow, and cloaks and coats and furry robes for the winter. +There would be no doubt a freer use of colour than terrestrial +Europe sees in these days, but the costume of the women at least +would be soberer and more practical, and (in harmony with our +discussion in the previous chapter) less differentiated from the +men's.</p> + +<p>But these, of course, are generalisations. These are the mere +translation of the social facts we have hypotheticated into the +language of costume. There will be a great variety of costume and +no compulsions. The doubles of people who are naturally foppish on +earth will be foppish in Utopia, and people who have no natural +taste on earth will have inartistic equivalents. Everyone will not +be quiet in tone, or harmonious, or beautiful. Occasionally, as I +go through the streets to my work, I shall turn round to glance +again at some robe shot with gold embroidery, some slashing of the +sleeves, some eccentricity of cut, or some discord or untidiness. +But these will be but transient flashes in a general flow of +harmonious graciousness; dress will have scarcely any of that +effect of disorderly conflict, of self-assertion qualified by the +fear of ridicule, that it has in the crudely competitive +civilisations of earth.</p> + +<p>I shall have the seeker's attitude of mind during those few days +at Lucerne. I shall become a student of faces. I shall be, as it +were, looking for someone. I shall see heavy faces, dull faces, +faces with an uncongenial animation, alien faces, and among these +some with an immediate quality of appeal. I should see desirable +men approaching me, and I should think; “Now, if I were to speak to +<i>you</i>?” Many of these latter I should note wore the same +clothing as the man who spoke to us at Wassen; I should begin to +think of it as a sort of uniform....</p> + +<p>Then I should see grave-faced girls, girls of that budding age +when their bearing becomes delusively wise, and the old deception +of my youth will recur to me; “Could you and I but talk together?” +I should think. Women will pass me lightly, women with open and +inviting faces, but they will not attract me, and there will come +beautiful women, women with that touch of claustral preoccupation +which forbids the thought of any near approach. They are private +and secret, and I may not enter, I know, into their +thoughts....</p> + +<p>I go as often as I can to the seat by the end of old +Kapelbrucke, and watch the people passing over.</p> + +<p>I shall find a quality of dissatisfaction throughout all these +days. I shall come to see this period more and more distinctly as a +pause, as a waiting interlude, and the idea of an encounter with my +double, which came at first as if it were a witticism, as something +verbal and surprising, begins to take substance. The idea grows in +my mind that after all this is the “someone” I am seeking, this +Utopian self of mine. I had at first an idea of a grotesque +encounter, as of something happening in a looking glass, but +presently it dawns on me that my Utopian self must be a very +different person from me. His training will be different, his +mental content different. But between us there will be a strange +link of essential identity, a sympathy, an understanding. I find +the thing rising suddenly to a preponderance in my mind. I find the +interest of details dwindling to the vanishing point. That I have +come to Utopia is the lesser thing now; the greater is that I have +come to meet myself.</p> + +<p>I spend hours trying to imagine the encounter, inventing little +dialogues. I go alone to the Bureau to find if any news has come to +hand from the Great Index in Paris, but I am told to wait another +twenty-four hours. I cease absolutely to be interested in anything +else, except so far as it leads towards intercourse with this being +who is to be at once so strangely alien and so totally mine.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 4</h4> + +<p>Wrapped up in these preoccupations as I am, it will certainly be +the botanist who will notice the comparative absence of animals +about us.</p> + +<p>He will put it in the form of a temperate objection to the +Utopian planet.</p> + +<p>He is a professed lover of dogs and there are none. We have seen +no horses and only one or two mules on the day of our arrival, and +there seems not a cat in the world. I bring my mind round to his +suggestion. “This follows,” I say.</p> + +<p>It is only reluctantly that I allow myself to be drawn from my +secret musings into a discussion of Utopian pets.</p> + +<p>I try to explain that a phase in the world's development is +inevitable when a systematic world-wide attempt will be made to +destroy for ever a great number of contagious and infectious +diseases, and that this will involve, for a time at any rate, a +stringent suppression of the free movement of familiar animals. +Utopian houses, streets and drains will be planned and built to +make rats, mice, and such-like house parasites impossible; the race +of cats and dogs—providing, as it does, living fastnesses to which +such diseases as plague, influenza, catarrhs and the like, can +retreat to sally forth again—must pass for a time out of freedom, +and the filth made by horses and the other brutes of the highway +vanish from the face of the earth. These things make an old story +to me, and perhaps explicitness suffers through my brevity.</p> + +<p>My botanist fails altogether to grasp what the disappearance of +diseases means. His mind has no imaginative organ of that compass. +As I talk his mind rests on one fixed image. This presents what the +botanist would probably call a “dear old doggie”—which the +botanist would make believe did not possess any sensible odour—and +it has faithful brown eyes and understands everything you say. The +botanist would make believe it understood him mystically, and I +figure his long white hand—which seems to me, in my more jaundiced +moments, to exist entirely for picking things and holding a +lens—patting its head, while the brute looked things +unspeakable....</p> + +<p>The botanist shakes his head after my explanation and says +quietly, “I do not like your Utopia, if there are to be no +dogs.”</p> + +<p>Perhaps that makes me a little malicious. Indeed I do not hate +dogs, but I care ten thousand times more for a man than for all the +brutes on the earth, and I can see, what the botanist I think +cannot, that a life spent in the delightful atmosphere of many pet +animals may have too dear a price....</p> + +<p>I find myself back again at the comparison of the botanist and +myself. There is a profound difference in our imaginations, and I +wonder whether it is the consequence of innate character or of +training and whether he is really the human type or I. I am not +altogether without imagination, but what imagination I have has the +most insistent disposition to square itself with every fact in the +universe. It hypothesises very boldly, but on the other hand it +will not gravely make believe. Now the botanist's imagination is +always busy with the most impossible make-believe. That is the way +with all children I know. But it seems to me one ought to pass out +of it. It isn't as though the world was an untidy nursery; it is a +place of splendours indescribable for all who will lift its veils. +It may be he is essentially different from me, but I am much more +inclined to think he is simply more childish. Always it is +make-believe. He believes that horses are beautiful creatures for +example, dogs are beautiful creatures, that some women are +inexpressibly lovely, and he makes believe that this is always so. +Never a word of criticism of horse or dog or woman! Never a word of +criticism of his impeccable friends! Then there is his botany. He +makes believe that all the vegetable kingdom is mystically perfect +and exemplary, that all flowers smell deliciously and are +exquisitely beautiful, that <i>Drosera</i> does not hurt flies very +much, and that onions do not smell. Most of the universe does not +interest this nature lover at all. But I know, and I am querulously +incapable of understanding why everyone else does not know, that a +horse is beautiful in one way and quite ugly in another, that +everything has this shot-silk quality, and is all the finer for +that. When people talk of a horse as an ugly animal I think of its +beautiful moments, but when I hear a flow of indiscriminate praise +of its beauty I think of such an aspect as one gets for example +from a dog-cart, the fiddle-shaped back, and that distressing blade +of the neck, the narrow clumsy place between the ears, and the ugly +glimpse of cheek. There is, indeed, no beauty whatever save that +transitory thing that comes and comes again; all beauty is really +the beauty of expression, is really kinetic and momentary. That is +true even of those triumphs of static endeavour achieved by Greece. +The Greek temple, for example, is a barn with a face that at a +certain angle of vision and in a certain light has a great calm +beauty.</p> + +<p>But where are we drifting? All such things, I hold, are cases of +more and less, and of the right moment and the right aspect, even +the things I most esteem. There is no perfection, there is no +enduring treasure. This pet dog's beautiful affection, I say, or +this other sensuous or imaginative delight, is no doubt good, but +it can be put aside if it is incompatible with some other and wider +good. You cannot focus all good things together.</p> + +<p>All right action and all wise action is surely sound judgment +and courageous abandonment in the matter of such incompatibilities. +If I cannot imagine thoughts and feelings in a dog's brain that +cannot possibly be there, at least I can imagine things in the +future of men that might be there had we the will to demand +them....</p> + +<p>“I don't like this Utopia,” the botanist repeats. “You don't +understand about dogs. To me they're human beings—and more! There +used to be such a jolly old dog at my aunt's at Frognal when I was +a boy―”</p> + +<p>But I do not heed his anecdote. Something—something of the +nature of conscience—has suddenly jerked back the memory of that +beer I drank at Hospenthal, and puts an accusing finger on the +memory.</p> + +<p>I never have had a pet animal, I confess, though I have been +fairly popular with kittens. But with regard to a certain petting +of myself―?</p> + +<p>Perhaps I was premature about that beer. I have had no pet +animals, but I perceive if the Modern Utopia is going to demand the +sacrifice of the love of animals, which is, in its way, a very fine +thing indeed, so much the more readily may it demand the sacrifice +of many other indulgences, some of which are not even fine in the +lowest degree.</p> + +<p>It is curious this haunting insistence upon sacrifice and +discipline!</p> + +<p>It is slowly becoming my dominant thought that the sort of +people whose will this Utopia embodies must be people a little +heedless of small pleasures. You cannot focus all good things at +the same time. That is my chief discovery in these meditations at +Lucerne. Much of the rest of this Utopia I had in a sort of way +anticipated, but not this. I wonder if I shall see my Utopian self +for long and be able to talk to him freely....</p> + +<p>We lie in the petal-strewn grass under some Judas trees beside +the lake shore, as I meander among these thoughts, and each of us, +disregardful of his companion, follows his own associations.</p> + +<p>“Very remarkable,” I say, discovering that the botanist has come +to an end with his story of that Frognal dog.</p> + +<p>“You'd wonder how he knew,” he says.</p> + +<p>“You would.”</p> + +<p>I nibble a green blade.</p> + +<p>“Do you realise quite,” I ask, “that within a week we shall face +our Utopian selves and measure something of what we might have +been?”</p> + +<p>The botanist's face clouds. He rolls over, sits up abruptly and +puts his lean hands about his knees.</p> + +<p>“I don't like to think about it,” he says. “What is the good of +reckoning ... might have beens?”</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 5</h4> + +<p>It is pleasant to think of one's puzzling the organised wisdom +of so superior a planet as this Utopia, this moral monster State my +Frankenstein of reasoning has made, and to that pitch we have come. +When we are next in the presence of our Lucerne official, he has +the bearing of a man who faces a mystification beyond his powers, +an incredible disarrangement of the order of Nature. Here, for the +first time in the records of Utopian science, are two cases—not +simply one but two, and these in each other's company!—of +duplicated thumb-marks. This, coupled with a cock-and-bull story of +an instantaneous transfer from some planet unknown to Utopian +astronomy. That he and all his world exists only upon a hypothesis +that would explain everyone of these difficulties absolutely, is +scarcely likely to occur to his obviously unphilosophic mind.</p> + +<p>The official eye is more eloquent than the official lips and +asks almost urgently, “What in this immeasurable universe have you +managed to do to your thumbs? And why?” But he is only a very +inferior sort of official indeed, a mere clerk of the post, and he +has all the guarded reserve of your thoroughly unoriginal man. “You +are not the two persons I ascertained you were,” he says, with the +note of one resigned to communion with unreason; “because you”—he +indicates me—“are evidently at your residence in London.” I smile. +“That gentleman”—he points a pen at the botanist in a manner that +is intended to dismiss my smile once for all—“will be in London +next week. He will be returning next Friday from a special mission +to investigate the fungoid parasites that have been attacking the +cinchona trees in Ceylon.”</p> + +<p>The botanist blesses his heart.</p> + +<p>“Consequently”—the official sighs at the burthen of such +nonsense, “you will have to go and consult with—the people you +ought to be.”</p> + +<p>I betray a faint amusement.</p> + +<p>“You will have to end by believing in our planet,” I say.</p> + +<p>He waggles a negation with his head. He would intimate his +position is too responsible a one for jesting, and both of us in +our several ways enjoy the pleasure we poor humans have in meeting +with intellectual inferiority. “The Standing Committee of +Identification,” he says, with an eye on a memorandum, “has +remitted your case to the Research Professor of Anthropology in the +University of London, and they want you to go there, if you will, +and talk to him.”</p> + +<p>“What else can we do?” says the botanist.</p> + +<p>“There's no positive compulsion,” he remarks, “but your work +here will probably cease. Here―” he pushed the neat slips of +paper towards us—“are your tickets for London, and a small but +sufficient supply of money,”—he indicates two piles of coins and +paper on either hand of him—“for a day or so there.” He proceeds +in the same dry manner to inform us we are invited to call at our +earliest convenience upon our doubles, and upon the Professor, who +is to investigate our case.</p> + +<p>“And then?”</p> + +<p>He pulls down the corners of his mouth in a wry deprecatory +smile, eyes us obliquely under a crumpled brow, shrugs his +shoulders, and shows us the palms of his hands.</p> + +<p>On earth, where there is nationality, this would have been a +Frenchman—the inferior sort of Frenchman—the sort whose only +happiness is in the routine security of Government employment.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 6</h4> + +<p>London will be the first Utopian city centre we shall see.</p> + +<p>We shall find ourselves there with not a little amazement. It +will be our first experience of the swift long distance travel of +Utopia, and I have an idea—I know not why—that we should make the +journey by night. Perhaps I think so because the ideal of +long-distance travel is surely a restful translation less suitable +for the active hours.</p> + +<p>We shall dine and gossip and drink coffee at the pretty little +tables under the lantern-lit trees, we shall visit the theatre, and +decide to sup in the train, and so come at last to the station. +There we shall find pleasant rooms with seats and books—luggage +all neatly elsewhere—and doors that we shall imagine give upon a +platform. Our cloaks and hats and such-like outdoor impedimenta +will be taken in the hall and neatly labelled for London, we shall +exchange our shoes for slippers there, and we shall sit down like +men in a club. An officious little bell will presently call our +attention to a label “London” on the doorway, and an excellent +phonograph will enforce that notice with infinite civility. The +doors will open, and we shall walk through into an equally +comfortable gallery.</p> + +<p>“Where is the train for London?” we shall ask a uniformed fellow +Utopian.</p> + +<p>“This is the train for London,” he will say.</p> + +<p>There will be a shutting of doors, and the botanist and I, +trying not to feel too childish, will walk exploring through the +capacious train.</p> + +<p>The resemblance to a club will strike us both. “A <i>good</i> +club,” the botanist will correct me.</p> + +<p>When one travels beyond a certain speed, there is nothing but +fatigue in looking out of a window, and this corridor train, twice +the width of its poor terrestrial brother, will have no need of +that distraction. The simple device of abandoning any but a few +windows, and those set high, gives the wall space of the long +corridors to books; the middle part of the train is indeed a +comfortable library with abundant armchairs and couches, each with +its green-shaded light, and soft carpets upon the soundproof floor. +Further on will be a news-room, with a noiseless but busy tape at +one corner, printing off messages from the wires by the wayside, +and further still, rooms for gossip and smoking, a billiard room, +and the dining car. Behind we shall come to bedrooms, bathrooms, +the hairdresser, and so forth.</p> + +<p>“When shall we start?” I ask presently, as we return, rather +like bashful yokels, to the library, and the old gentleman reading +the <i>Arabian Nights</i> in the armchair in the corner glances up +at me with a sudden curiosity.</p> + +<p>The botanist touches my arm and nods towards a pretty little +lead-paned window, through which we see a village sleeping under +cloudy moonlight go flashing by. Then a skylit lake, and then a +string of swaying lights, gone with the leap of a camera +shutter.</p> + +<p>Two hundred miles an hour!</p> + +<p>We resort to a dignified Chinese steward and secure our berths. +It is perhaps terrestrial of us that we do not think of reading the +Utopian literature that lines the middle part of the train. I find +a bed of the simple Utopian pattern, and lie for a time +thinking—quite tranquilly—of this marvellous adventure.</p> + +<p>I wonder why it is that to lie securely in bed, with the light +out, seems ever the same place, wherever in space one may chance to +be? And asleep, there is no space for us at all. I become drowsy +and incoherent and metaphysical....</p> + +<p>The faint and fluctuating drone of the wheels below the car, +re-echoed by the flying track, is more perceptible now, but it is +not unpleasantly loud, merely a faint tinting of the quiet....</p> + +<p>No sea crossing breaks our journey; there is nothing to prevent +a Channel tunnel in that other planet; and I wake in London.</p> + +<p>The train has been in London some time when I awake, for these +marvellous Utopians have discovered that it is not necessary to +bundle out passengers from a train in the small hours, simply +because they have arrived. A Utopian train is just a peculiar kind +of hotel corridor that flies about the earth while one sleeps.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 7</h4> + +<p>How will a great city of Utopia strike us?</p> + +<p>To answer that question well one must needs be artist and +engineer, and I am neither. Moreover, one must employ words and +phrases that do not exist, for this world still does not dream of +the things that may be done with thought and steel, when the +engineer is sufficiently educated to be an artist, and the artistic +intelligence has been quickened to the accomplishment of an +engineer. How can one write of these things for a generation which +rather admires that inconvenient and gawky muddle of ironwork and +Flemish architecture, the London Tower Bridge. When before this, +temerarious anticipators have written of the mighty buildings that +might someday be, the illustrator has blended with the poor +ineffectual splutter of the author's words, his powerful suggestion +that it amounted simply to something bulbous, florid and fluent in +the vein of the onion, and <i>L'Art Nouveau</i>. But here, it may +be, the illustrator will not intervene.</p> + +<p>Art has scarcely begun in the world.</p> + +<p>There have been a few forerunners and that is all. Leonardo, +Michael Angelo; how they would have exulted in the liberties of +steel! There are no more pathetic documents in the archives of art +than Leonardo's memoranda. In these, one sees him again and again +reaching out as it were, with empty desirous hands, towards the +unborn possibilities of the engineer. And Dürer, too, was a +Modern, with the same turn towards creative invention. In our times +these men would have wanted to make viaducts, to bridge wild and +inaccessible places, to cut and straddle great railways athwart the +mountain masses of the world. You can see, time after time, in +Dürer's work, as you can see in the imaginary architectural +landscape of the Pompeian walls, the dream of structures, lighter +and bolder than stone or brick can yield.... These Utopian town +buildings will be the realisation of such dreams.</p> + +<p>Here will be one of the great meeting places of mankind. Here—I +speak of Utopian London—will be the traditional centre of one of +the great races in the commonalty of the World State—and here will +be its social and intellectual exchange. There will be a mighty +University here, with thousands of professors and tens of thousands +of advanced students, and here great journals of thought and +speculation, mature and splendid books of philosophy and science, +and a glorious fabric of literature will be woven and shaped, and +with a teeming leisureliness, put forth. Here will be stupendous +libraries, and a mighty organisation of museums. About these +centres will cluster a great swarm of people, and close at hand +will be another centre, for I who am an Englishman must needs +stipulate that Westminster shall still be a seat of world Empire, +one of several seats, if you will—where the ruling council of the +world assembles. Then the arts will cluster round this city, as +gold gathers about wisdom, and here Englishmen will weave into +wonderful prose and beautiful rhythms and subtly atmospheric forms, +the intricate, austere and courageous imagination of our race.</p> + +<p>One will come into this place as one comes into a noble mansion. +They will have flung great arches and domes of glass above the +wider spaces of the town, the slender beauty of the perfect +metal-work far overhead will be softened to a fairy-like +unsubstantiality by the mild London air. It will be the London air +we know, clear of filth and all impurity, the same air that gives +our October days their unspeakable clarity and makes every London +twilight mysteriously beautiful. We shall go along avenues of +architecture that will be emancipated from the last memories of the +squat temple boxes of the Greek, the buxom curvatures of Rome; the +Goth in us will have taken to steel and countless new materials as +kindly as once he took to stone. The gay and swiftly moving +platforms of the public ways will go past on either hand, carrying +sporadic groups of people, and very speedily we shall find +ourselves in a sort of central space, rich with palms and flowering +bushes and statuary. We shall look along an avenue of trees, down a +wide gorge between the cliffs of crowded hotels, the hotels that +are still glowing with internal lights, to where the shining +morning river streams dawnlit out to sea.</p> + +<p>Great multitudes of people will pass softly to and fro in this +central space, beautiful girls and youths going to the University +classes that are held in the stately palaces about us, grave and +capable men and women going to their businesses, children +meandering along to their schools, holiday makers, lovers, setting +out upon a hundred quests; and here we shall ask for the two we +more particularly seek. A graceful little telephone kiosk will put +us within reach of them, and with a queer sense of unreality I +shall find myself talking to my Utopian twin. He has heard of me, +he wants to see me and he gives me clear directions how to come to +him.</p> + +<p>I wonder if my own voice sounds like that.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I say, “then I will come as soon as we have been to our +hotel.”</p> + +<p>We indulge in no eloquence upon this remarkable occasion. Yet I +feel an unusual emotional stir. I tremble greatly, and the +telephonic mouthpiece rattles as I replace it.</p> + +<p>And thence the botanist and I walk on to the apartments that +have been set aside for us, and into which the poor little rolls of +the property that has accumulated about us in Utopia, our earthly +raiment, and a change of linen and the like, have already been +delivered. As we go I find I have little to say to my companion, +until presently I am struck by a transitory wonder that he should +have so little to say to me.</p> + +<p>“I can still hardly realise,” I say, “that I am going to see +myself—as I might have been.”</p> + +<p>“No,” he says, and relapses at once into his own +preoccupation.</p> + +<p>For a moment my wonder as to what he should be thinking about +brings me near to a double self-forgetfulness.</p> + +<p>I realise we are at the entrance of our hotel before I can +formulate any further remark.</p> + +<p>“This is the place,” I say.</p> + +<h3 align="center">CHAPTER THE EIGHTH<br> +My Utopian Self</h3> + +<h4 align="center">§ 1</h4> + +<p>It falls to few of us to interview our better selves. My Utopian +self is, of course, my better self—according to my best +endeavours—and I must confess myself fully alive to the +difficulties of the situation. When I came to this Utopia I had no +thought of any such intimate self-examination.</p> + +<p>The whole fabric of that other universe sways for a moment as I +come into his room, into his clear and ordered work-room. I am +trembling. A figure rather taller than myself stands against the +light.</p> + +<p>He comes towards me, and I, as I advance to meet him, stumble +against a chair. Then, still without a word, we are clasping +hands.</p> + +<p>I stand now so that the light falls upon him, and I can see his +face better. He is a little taller than I, younger looking and +sounder looking; he has missed an illness or so, and there is no +scar over his eye. His training has been subtly finer than mine; he +has made himself a better face than mine.... These things I might +have counted upon. I can fancy he winces with a twinge of +sympathetic understanding at my manifest inferiority. Indeed, I +come, trailing clouds of earthly confusion and weakness; I bear +upon me all the defects of my world. He wears, I see, that white +tunic with the purple band that I have already begun to consider +the proper Utopian clothing for grave men, and his face is clean +shaven. We forget to speak at first in the intensity of our mutual +inspection. When at last I do gain my voice it is to say something +quite different from the fine, significant openings of my +premeditated dialogues.</p> + +<p>“You have a pleasant room,” I remark, and look about a little +disconcerted because there is no fireplace for me to put my back +against, or hearthrug to stand upon. He pushes me a chair, into +which I plump, and we hang over an immensity of conversational +possibilities.</p> + +<p>“I say,” I plunge, “what do you think of me? You don't think +I'm an impostor?”</p> + +<p>“Not now that I have seen you. No.”</p> + +<p>“Am I so like you?”</p> + +<p>“Like me and your story—exactly.”</p> + +<p>“You haven't any doubt left?” I ask.</p> + +<p>“Not in the least, since I saw you enter. You come from the +world beyond Sirius, twin to this. Eh?”</p> + +<p>“And you don't want to know how I got here?”</p> + +<p>“I've ceased even to wonder how I got here,” he says, with a +laugh that echoes mine.</p> + +<p>He leans back in his chair, and I in mine, and the absurd parody +of our attitude strikes us both.</p> + +<p>“Well?” we say, simultaneously, and laugh together.</p> + +<p>I will confess this meeting is more difficult even than I +anticipated.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 2</h4> + +<p>Our conversation at that first encounter would do very little to +develop the Modern Utopia in my mind. Inevitably, it would be +personal and emotional. He would tell me how he stood in his world, +and I how I stood in mine. I should have to tell him things, I +should have to explain things―.</p> + +<p>No, the conversation would contribute nothing to a modern +Utopia.</p> + +<p>And so I leave it out.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 3</h4> + +<p>But I should go back to my botanist in a state of emotional +relaxation. At first I should not heed the fact that he, too, had +been in some manner stirred. “I have seen him,” I should say, +needlessly, and seem to be on the verge of telling the untellable. +Then I should fade off into: “It's the strangest thing.”</p> + +<p>He would interrupt me with his own preoccupation. “You know,” he +would say, “I've seen someone.”</p> + +<p>I should pause and look at him.</p> + +<p>“She is in this world,” he says.</p> + +<p>“Who is in this world?”</p> + +<p>“Mary!”</p> + +<p>I have not heard her name before, but I understand, of course, +at once.</p> + +<p>“I saw her,” he explains.</p> + +<p>“Saw her?”</p> + +<p>“I'm certain it was her. Certain. She was far away across those +gardens near here—and before I had recovered from my amazement she +had gone! But it was Mary.”</p> + +<p>He takes my arm. “You know I did not understand this,” he says. +“I did not really understand that when you said Utopia, you meant I +was to meet her—in happiness.”</p> + +<p>“I didn't.”</p> + +<p>“It works out at that.”</p> + +<p>“You haven't met her yet.”</p> + +<p>“I shall. It makes everything different. To tell you the truth +I've rather hated this Utopia of yours at times. You mustn't mind +my saying it, but there's something of the Gradgrind―”</p> + +<p>Probably I should swear at that.</p> + +<p>“What?” he says.</p> + +<p>“Nothing.”</p> + +<p>“But you spoke?”</p> + +<p>“I was purring. I'm a Gradgrind—it's quite right—anything you +can say about Herbert Spencer, vivisectors, materialistic Science +or Atheists, applies without correction to me. Begbie away! But now +you think better of a modern Utopia? Was the lady looking +well?”</p> + +<p>“It was her real self. Yes. Not the broken woman I met—in the +real world.”</p> + +<p>“And as though she was pining for you.”</p> + +<p>He looks puzzled.</p> + +<p>“Look there!” I say.</p> + +<p>He looks.</p> + +<p>We are standing high above the ground in the loggia into which +our apartments open, and I point across the soft haze of the public +gardens to a tall white mass of University buildings that rises +with a free and fearless gesture, to lift saluting pinnacles +against the clear evening sky. “Don't you think that rather more +beautiful than—say—our National Gallery?”</p> + +<p>He looks at it critically. “There's a lot of metal in it,” he +objects. “What?”</p> + +<p>I purred. “But, anyhow, whatever you can't see in that, you can, +I suppose, see that it is different from anything in your world—it +lacks the kindly humanity of a red-brick Queen Anne villa +residence, with its gables and bulges, and bow windows, and its +stained glass fanlight, and so forth. It lacks the self-complacent +unreasonableness of Board of Works classicism. There's something in +its proportions—as though someone with brains had taken a lot of +care to get it quite right, someone who not only knew what metal +can do, but what a University ought to be, somebody who had found +the Gothic spirit enchanted, petrified, in a cathedral, and had set +it free.”</p> + +<p>“But what has this,” he asks, “to do with her?”</p> + +<p>“Very much,” I say. “This is not the same world. If she is here, +she will be younger in spirit and wiser. She will be in many ways +more refined―”</p> + +<p>“No one―” he begins, with a note of indignation.</p> + +<p>“No, no! She couldn't be. I was wrong there. But she will be +different. Grant that at any rate. When you go forward to speak to +her, she may not remember—very many things <i>you</i> may +remember. Things that happened at Frognal—dear romantic walks +through the Sunday summer evenings, practically you two alone, you +in your adolescent silk hat and your nice gentlemanly gloves.... +Perhaps that did not happen here! And she may have other +memories—of things—that down there haven't happened. You noted +her costume. She wasn't by any chance one of the +<i>samurai</i>?”</p> + +<p>He answers, with a note of satisfaction, “No! She wore a womanly +dress of greyish green.”</p> + +<p>“Probably under the Lesser Rule.”</p> + +<p>“I don't know what you mean by the Lesser Rule. She wasn't one +of the <i>samurai</i>.”</p> + +<p>“And, after all, you know—I keep on reminding you, and you keep +on losing touch with the fact, that this world contains your +double.”</p> + +<p>He pales, and his countenance is disturbed. Thank Heaven, I've +touched him at last!</p> + +<p>“This world contains your double. But, conceivably, everything +may be different here. The whole romantic story may have run a +different course. It was as it was in our world, by the accidents +of custom and proximity. Adolescence is a defenceless plastic +period. You are a man to form great affections,—noble, great +affections. You might have met anyone almost at that season and +formed the same attachment.”</p> + +<p>For a time he is perplexed and troubled by this suggestion.</p> + +<p>“No,” he says, a little doubtfully. “No. It was herself.” ... +Then, emphatically, “<i>No!</i>”</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 4</h4> + +<p>For a time we say no more, and I fall musing about my strange +encounter with my Utopian double. I think of the confessions I have +just made to him, the strange admissions both to him and myself. I +have stirred up the stagnations of my own emotional life, the pride +that has slumbered, the hopes and disappointments that have not +troubled me for years. There are things that happened to me in my +adolescence that no discipline of reason will ever bring to a just +proportion for me, the first humiliations I was made to suffer, the +waste of all the fine irrecoverable loyalties and passions of my +youth. The dull base caste of my little personal tragi-comedy—I +have ostensibly forgiven, I have for the most part forgotten—and +yet when I recall them I hate each actor still. Whenever it comes +into my mind—I do my best to prevent it—there it is, and these +detestable people blot out the stars for me.</p> + +<p>I have told all that story to my double, and he has listened +with understanding eyes. But for a little while those squalid +memories will not sink back into the deeps.</p> + +<p>We lean, side by side, over our balcony, lost in such +egotistical absorptions, quite heedless of the great palace of +noble dreams to which our first enterprise has brought us.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 5</h4> + +<p>I can understand the botanist this afternoon; for once we are in +the same key. My own mental temper has gone for the day, and I know +what it means to be untempered. Here is a world and a glorious +world, and it is for me to take hold of it, to have to do with it, +here and now, and behold! I can only think that I am burnt and +scarred, and there rankles that wretched piece of business, the +mean unimaginative triumph of my antagonist―</p> + +<p>I wonder how many men have any real freedom of mind, are, in +truth, unhampered by such associations, to whom all that is great +and noble in life does not, at times at least, if not always, seem +secondary to obscure rivalries and considerations, to the petty +hates that are like germs in the blood, to the lust for +self-assertion, to dwarfish pride, to affections they gave in +pledge even before they were men.</p> + +<p>The botanist beside me dreams, I know, of vindications for that +woman.</p> + +<p>All this world before us, and its order and liberty, are no more +than a painted scene before which he is to meet Her at last, freed +from “that scoundrel.”</p> + +<p>He expects “that scoundrel” really to be present and, as it +were, writhing under their feet....</p> + +<p>I wonder if that man <i>was</i> a scoundrel. He has gone wrong +on earth, no doubt, has failed and degenerated, but what was it +sent him wrong? Was his failure inherent, or did some net of cross +purposes tangle about his feet? Suppose he is not a failure in +Utopia!...</p> + +<p>I wonder that this has never entered the botanist's head.</p> + +<p>He, with his vaguer mind, can overlook—spite of my ruthless +reminders—all that would mar his vague anticipations. That, too, +if I suggested it, he would overcome and disregard. He has the most +amazing power of resistance to uncongenial ideas; amazing that is, +to me. He hates the idea of meeting his double, and consequently so +soon as I cease to speak of that, with scarcely an effort of his +will, it fades again from his mind.</p> + +<p>Down below in the gardens two children pursue one another, and +one, near caught, screams aloud and rouses me from my reverie.</p> + +<p>I follow their little butterfly antics until they vanish beyond +a thicket of flowering rhododendra, and then my eyes go back to the +great façade of the University buildings.</p> + +<p>But I am in no mood to criticise architecture.</p> + +<p>Why should a modern Utopia insist upon slipping out of the hands +of its creator and becoming the background of a personal drama—of +such a silly little drama?</p> + +<p>The botanist will not see Utopia in any other way. He tests it +entirely by its reaction upon the individual persons and things he +knows; he dislikes it because he suspects it of wanting to lethal +chamber his aunt's “dear old doggie,” and now he is reconciled to +it because a certain “Mary” looks much younger and better here than +she did on earth. And here am I, near fallen into the same way of +dealing!</p> + +<p>We agreed to purge this State and all the people in it of +traditions, associations, bias, laws, and artificial entanglements, +and begin anew; but we have no power to liberate ourselves. Our +past, even its accidents, its accidents above all, and ourselves, +are one.</p> + +<h3 align="center">CHAPTER THE NINTH<br> +The Samurai</h3> + +<h4 align="center">§ 1</h4> + +<p>Neither my Utopian double nor I love emotion sufficiently to +cultivate it, and my feelings are in a state of seemly +subordination when we meet again. He is now in possession of some +clear, general ideas about my own world, and I can broach almost at +once the thoughts that have been growing and accumulating since my +arrival in this planet of my dreams. We find our interest in a +humanised state-craft, makes us, in spite of our vast difference in +training and habits, curiously akin.</p> + +<p>I put it to him that I came to Utopia with but very vague ideas +of the method of government, biassed, perhaps, a little in favour +of certain electoral devices, but for the rest indeterminate, and +that I have come to perceive more and more clearly that the large +intricacy of Utopian organisation demands more powerful and +efficient method of control than electoral methods can give. I have +come to distinguish among the varied costumes and the innumerable +types of personality Utopia presents, certain men and women of a +distinctive costume and bearing, and I know now that these people +constitute an order, the <i>samurai</i>, the “voluntary nobility,” +which is essential in the scheme of the Utopian State. I know that +this order is open to every physically and mentally healthy adult +in the Utopian State who will observe its prescribed austere rule +of living, that much of the responsible work of the State is +reserved for it, and I am inclined now at the first onset of +realisation to regard it as far more significant than it really is +in the Utopian scheme, as being, indeed, in itself and completely +the Utopian scheme. My predominant curiosity concerns the +organisation of this order. As it has developed in my mind, it has +reminded me more and more closely of that strange class of +guardians which constitutes the essential substance of Plato's +<i>Republic</i>, and it is with an implicit reference to Plato's +profound intuitions that I and my double discuss this question.</p> + +<p>To clarify our comparison he tells me something of the history +of Utopia, and incidentally it becomes necessary to make a +correction in the assumptions upon which I have based my +enterprise. We are assuming a world identical in every respect with +the real planet Earth, except for the profoundest differences in +the mental content of life. This implies a different literature, a +different philosophy, and a different history, and so soon as I +come to talk to him I find that though it remains unavoidable that +we should assume the correspondence of the two populations, man for +man—unless we would face unthinkable complications—we must assume +also that a great succession of persons of extraordinary character +and mental gifts, who on earth died in childhood or at birth, or +who never learnt to read, or who lived and died amidst savage or +brutalising surroundings that gave their gifts no scope, did in +Utopia encounter happier chances, and take up the development and +application of social theory—from the time of the first Utopists +in a steady onward progress down to the present hour. [Footnote: +One might assume as an alternative to this that amidst the +four-fifths of the Greek literature now lost to the world, there +perished, neglected, some book of elementary significance, some +earlier <i>Novum Organum</i>, that in Utopia survived to achieve +the profoundest consequences.] The differences of condition, +therefore, had widened with each successive year. Jesus Christ had +been born into a liberal and progressive Roman Empire that spread +from the Arctic Ocean to the Bight of Benin, and was to know no +Decline and Fall, and Mahomet, instead of embodying the dense +prejudices of Arab ignorance, opened his eyes upon an intellectual +horizon already nearly as wide as the world.</p> + +<p>And through this empire the flow of thought, the flow of +intention, poured always more abundantly. There were wars, but they +were conclusive wars that established new and more permanent +relations, that swept aside obstructions, and abolished centres of +decay; there were prejudices tempered to an ordered criticism, and +hatreds that merged at last in tolerant reactions. It was several +hundred years ago that the great organisation of the <i>samurai</i> +came into its present form. And it was this organisation's widely +sustained activities that had shaped and established the World +State in Utopia.</p> + +<p>This organisation of the <i>samurai</i> was a quite deliberate +invention. It arose in the course of social and political troubles +and complications, analogous to those of our own time on earth, and +was, indeed, the last of a number of political and religious +experiments dating back to the first dawn of philosophical +state-craft in Greece. That hasty despair of specialisation for +government that gave our poor world individualism, democratic +liberalism, and anarchism, and that curious disregard of the fund +of enthusiasm and self-sacrifice in men, which is the fundamental +weakness of worldly economics, do not appear in the history of +Utopian thought. All that history is pervaded with the recognition +of the fact that self-seeking is no more the whole of human life +than the satisfaction of hunger; that it is an essential of a man's +existence no doubt, and that under stress of evil circumstances it +may as entirely obsess him as would the food hunt during famine, +but that life may pass beyond to an illimitable world of emotions +and effort. Every sane person consists of possibilities beyond the +unavoidable needs, is capable of disinterested feeling, even if it +amounts only to enthusiasm for a sport or an industrial employment +well done, for an art, or for a locality or class. In our world +now, as in the Utopian past, this impersonal energy of a man goes +out into religious emotion and work, into patriotic effort, into +artistic enthusiasms, into games and amateur employments, and an +enormous proportion of the whole world's fund of effort wastes +itself in religious and political misunderstandings and conflicts, +and in unsatisfying amusements and unproductive occupations. In a +modern Utopia there will, indeed, be no perfection; in Utopia there +must also be friction, conflicts and waste, but the waste will be +enormously less than in our world. And the co-ordination of +activities this relatively smaller waste will measure, will be the +achieved end for which the order of the <i>samurai</i> was first +devised.</p> + +<p>Inevitably such an order must have first arisen among a clash of +social forces and political systems as a revolutionary +organisation. It must have set before itself the attainment of some +such Utopian ideal as this modern Utopia does, in the key of mortal +imperfection, realise. At first it may have directed itself to +research and discussion, to the elaboration of its ideal, to the +discussion of a plan of campaign, but at some stage it must have +assumed a more militant organisation, and have prevailed against +and assimilated the pre-existing political organisations, and to +all intents and purposes have become this present synthesised World +State. Traces of that militancy would, therefore, pervade it still, +and a campaigning quality—no longer against specific disorders, +but against universal human weaknesses, and the inanimate forces +that trouble man—still remain as its essential quality.</p> + +<p>“Something of this kind,” I should tell my double, “had arisen +in our thought”—I jerk my head back to indicate an infinitely +distant planet—“just before I came upon these explorations. The +idea had reached me, for example, of something to be called a New +Republic, which was to be in fact an organisation for revolution +something after the fashion of your <i>samurai</i>, as I understand +them—only most of the organisation and the rule of life still +remained to be invented. All sorts of people were thinking of +something in that way about the time of my coming. The idea, as it +reached me, was pretty crude in several respects. It ignored the +high possibility of a synthesis of languages in the future; it came +from a literary man, who wrote only English, and, as I read him—he +was a little vague in his proposals—it was to be a purely +English-speaking movement. And his ideas were coloured too much by +the peculiar opportunism of his time; he seemed to have more than +half an eye for a prince or a millionaire of genius; he seemed +looking here and there for support and the structural elements of a +party. Still, the idea of a comprehensive movement of disillusioned +and illuminated men behind the shams and patriotisms, the spites +and personalities of the ostensible world was there.”</p> + +<p>I added some particulars.</p> + +<p>“Our movement had something of that spirit in the beginning,” +said my Utopian double. “But while your men seem to be thinking +disconnectedly, and upon a very narrow and fragmentary basis of +accumulated conclusions, ours had a fairly comprehensive science of +human association, and a very careful analysis of the failures of +preceding beginnings to draw upon. After all, your world must be as +full as ours was of the wreckage and decay of previous attempts; +churches, aristocracies, orders, cults....”</p> + +<p>“Only at present we seem to have lost heart altogether, and now +there are no new religions, no new orders, no new cults—no +beginnings any more.”</p> + +<p>“But that's only a resting phase, perhaps. You were +saying―”</p> + +<p>“Oh!—let that distressful planet alone for a time! Tell me how +you manage in Utopia.”</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 2</h4> + +<p>The social theorists of Utopia, my double explained, did not +base their schemes upon the classification of men into labour and +capital, the landed interest, the liquor trade, and the like. They +esteemed these as accidental categories, indefinitely amenable to +statesmanship, and they looked for some practical and real +classification upon which to base organisation. [Footnote: In that +they seem to have profited by a more searching criticism of early +social and political speculations than our earth has yet +undertaken. The social speculations of the Greeks, for example, had +just the same primary defect as the economic speculations of the +eighteenth century—they began with the assumption that the general +conditions of the prevalent state of affairs were permanent.] But, +on the other hand, the assumption that men are unclassifiable, +because practically homogeneous, which underlies modern democratic +methods and all the fallacies of our equal justice, is even more +alien to the Utopian mind. Throughout Utopia there is, of course, +no other than provisional classifications, since every being is +regarded as finally unique, but for political and social purposes +things have long rested upon a classification of temperaments, +which attends mainly to differences in the range and quality and +character of the individual imagination.</p> + +<p>This Utopian classification was a rough one, but it served its +purpose to determine the broad lines of political organisation; it +was so far unscientific that many individuals fall between or +within two or even three of its classes. But that was met by giving +the correlated organisation a compensatory looseness of play. Four +main classes of mind were distinguished, called, respectively, the +Poietic, the Kinetic, the Dull, and the Base. The former two are +supposed to constitute the living tissue of the State; the latter +are the fulcra and resistances, the bone and cover of its body. +They are not hereditary classes, nor is there any attempt to +develop any class by special breeding, simply because the intricate +interplay of heredity is untraceable and incalculable. They are +classes to which people drift of their own accord. Education is +uniform until differentiation becomes unmistakable, and each man +(and woman) must establish his position with regard to the lines of +this abstract classification by his own quality, choice, and +development....</p> + +<p>The Poietic or creative class of mental individuality embraces a +wide range of types, but they agree in possessing imaginations that +range beyond the known and accepted, and that involve the desire to +bring the discoveries made in such excursions, into knowledge and +recognition. The scope and direction of the imaginative excursion +may vary very greatly. It may be the invention of something new or +the discovery of something hitherto unperceived. When the invention +or discovery is primarily beauty then we have the artistic type of +Poietic mind; when it is not so, we have the true scientific man. +The range of discovery may be narrowed as it is in the art of +Whistler or the science of a cytologist, or it may embrace a wide +extent of relevance, until at last both artist or scientific +inquirer merge in the universal reference of the true philosopher. +To the accumulated activities of the Poietic type, reacted upon by +circumstances, are due almost all the forms assumed by human +thought and feeling. All religious ideas, all ideas of what is good +or beautiful, entered life through the poietic inspirations of man. +Except for processes of decay, the forms of the human future must +come also through men of this same type, and it is a primary +essential to our modern idea of an abundant secular progress that +these activities should be unhampered and stimulated.</p> + +<p>The Kinetic class consists of types, various, of course, and +merging insensibly along the boundary into the less representative +constituents of the Poietic group, but distinguished by a more +restricted range of imagination. Their imaginations do not range +beyond the known, experienced, and accepted, though within these +limits they may imagine as vividly or more vividly than members of +the former group. They are often very clever and capable people, +but they do not do, and they do not desire to do, new things. The +more vigorous individuals of this class are the most teachable +people in the world, and they are generally more moral and more +trustworthy than the Poietic types. They live,—while the Poietics +are always something of experimentalists with life. The +characteristics of either of these two classes may be associated +with a good or bad physique, with excessive or defective energy, +with exceptional keenness of the senses in some determinate +direction or such-like “bent,” and the Kinetic type, just as the +Poietic type, may display an imagination of restricted or of the +most universal range. But a fairly energetic Kinetic is probably +the nearest thing to that ideal our earthly anthropologists have in +mind when they speak of the “Normal” human being. The very +definition of the Poietic class involves a certain abnormality.</p> + +<p>The Utopians distinguished two extremes of this Kinetic class +according to the quality of their imaginative preferences, the Dan +and Beersheba, as it were, of this division. At one end is the +mainly intellectual, unoriginal type, which, with energy of +personality, makes an admirable judge or administrator and without +it an uninventive, laborious, common mathematician, or common +scholar, or common scientific man; while at the other end is the +mainly emotional, unoriginal man, the type to which—at a low level +of personal energy—my botanist inclines. The second type includes, +amidst its energetic forms, great actors, and popular politicians +and preachers. Between these extremes is a long and wide region of +varieties, into which one would put most of the people who form the +reputable workmen, the men of substance, the trustworthy men and +women, the pillars of society on earth.</p> + +<p>Below these two classes in the Utopian scheme of things, and +merging insensibly into them, come the Dull. The Dull are persons +of altogether inadequate imagination, the people who never seem to +learn thoroughly, or hear distinctly, or think clearly. (I believe +if everyone is to be carefully educated they would be considerably +in the minority in the world, but it is quite possible that will +not be the reader's opinion. It is clearly a matter of an arbitrary +line.) They are the stupid people, the incompetent people, the +formal, imitative people, the people who, in any properly organised +State, should, as a class, gravitate towards and below the minimum +wage that qualifies for marriage. The laws of heredity are far too +mysterious for such offspring as they do produce to be excluded +from a fair chance in the world, but for themselves, they count +neither for work nor direction in the State.</p> + +<p>Finally, with a bold disregard of the logician's classificatory +rules, these Utopian statesmen who devised the World State, hewed +out in theory a class of the Base. The Base may, indeed, be either +poietic, kinetic, or dull, though most commonly they are the last, +and their definition concerns not so much the quality of their +imagination as a certain bias in it, that to a statesman makes it a +matter for special attention. The Base have a narrower and more +persistent egoistic reference than the common run of humanity; they +may boast, but they have no frankness; they have relatively great +powers of concealment, and they are capable of, and sometimes have +an aptitude and inclination towards, cruelty. In the queer phrasing +of earthly psychology with its clumsy avoidance of analysis, they +have no “moral sense.” They count as an antagonism to the State +organisation.</p> + +<p>Obviously, this is the rudest of classifications, and no Utopian +has ever supposed it to be a classification for individual +application, a classification so precise that one can say, this man +is “poietic,” and that man is “base.” In actual experience these +qualities mingle and vary in every possible way. It is not a +classification for Truth, but a classification to an end. Taking +humanity as a multitude of unique individuals in mass, one may, for +practical purposes, deal with it far more conveniently by +disregarding its uniquenesses and its mixed cases altogether, and +supposing it to be an assembly of poietic, kinetic, dull, and base +people. In many respects it behaves as if it were that. The State, +dealing as it does only with non-individualised affairs, is not +only justified in disregarding, but is bound to disregard, a man's +special distinction, and to provide for him on the strength of his +prevalent aspect as being on the whole poietic, kinetic, or what +not. In a world of hasty judgments and carping criticism, it cannot +be repeated too often that the fundamental ideas of a modern Utopia +imply everywhere and in everything, margins and elasticities, a +certain universal compensatory looseness of play.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 3</h4> + +<p>Now these Utopian statesmen who founded the World State put the +problem of social organisation in the following fashion:—To +contrive a revolutionary movement that shall absorb all existing +governments and fuse them with itself, and that must be rapidly +progressive and adaptable, and yet coherent, persistent, powerful, +and efficient.</p> + +<p>The problem of combining progress with political stability had +never been accomplished in Utopia before that time, any more than +it has been accomplished on earth. Just as on earth, Utopian +history was a succession of powers rising and falling in an +alternation of efficient conservative with unstable liberal States. +Just as on earth, so in Utopia, the kinetic type of men had +displayed a more or less unintentional antagonism to the poietic. +The general life-history of a State had been the same on either +planet. First, through poietic activities, the idea of a community +has developed, and the State has shaped itself; poietic men have +arisen first in this department of national life, and then that, +and have given place to kinetic men of a high type—for it seems to +be in their nature that poietic men should be mutually repulsive, +and not succeed and develop one another consecutively—and a period +of expansion and vigour has set in. The general poietic activity +has declined with the development of an efficient and settled +social and political organisation; the statesman has given way to +the politician who has incorporated the wisdom of the statesman +with his own energy, the original genius in arts, letters, science, +and every department of activity to the cultivated and scholarly +man. The kinetic man of wide range, who has assimilated his poietic +predecessor, succeeds with far more readiness than his poietic +contemporary in almost every human activity. The latter is by his +very nature undisciplined and experimental, and is positively +hampered by precedents and good order. With this substitution of +the efficient for the creative type, the State ceases to grow, +first in this department of activity, and then in that, and so long +as its conditions remain the same it remains orderly and efficient. +But it has lost its power of initiative and change; its power of +adaptation is gone, and with that secular change of conditions +which is the law of life, stresses must arise within and without, +and bring at last either through revolution or through defeat the +release of fresh poietic power. The process, of course, is not in +its entirety simple; it may be masked by the fact that one +department of activity may be in its poietic stage, while another +is in a phase of realisation. In the United States of America, for +example, during the nineteenth century, there was great poietic +activity in industrial organisation, and none whatever in political +philosophy; but a careful analysis of the history of any period +will show the rhythm almost invariably present, and the initial +problem before the Utopian philosopher, therefore, was whether this +was an inevitable alternation, whether human progress was +necessarily a series of developments, collapses, and fresh +beginnings, after an interval of disorder, unrest, and often great +unhappiness, or whether it was possible to maintain a secure, +happy, and progressive State beside an unbroken flow of poietic +activity.</p> + +<p>Clearly they decided upon the second alternative. If, indeed, I +am listening to my Utopian self, then they not only decided the +problem could be solved, but they solved it.</p> + +<p>He tells me how they solved it.</p> + +<p>A modern Utopia differs from all the older Utopias in its +recognition of the need of poietic activities—one sees this new +consideration creeping into thought for the first time in the +phrasing of Comte's insistence that “spiritual” must precede +political reconstruction, and in his admission of the necessity of +recurrent books and poems about Utopias—and at first this +recognition appears to admit only an added complication to a +problem already unmanageably complex. Comte's separation of the +activities of a State into the spiritual and material does, to a +certain extent, anticipate this opposition of poietic and kinetic, +but the intimate texture of his mind was dull and hard, the +conception slipped from him again, and his suppression of literary +activities, and his imposition of a rule of life upon the poietic +types, who are least able to sustain it, mark how deeply he went +under. To a large extent he followed the older Utopists in assuming +that the philosophical and constructive problem could be done once +for all, and he worked the results out simply under an organised +kinetic government. But what seems to be merely an addition to the +difficulty may in the end turn out to be a simplification, just as +the introduction of a fresh term to an intricate irreducible +mathematical expression will at times bring it to unity.</p> + +<p>Now philosophers after my Utopian pattern, who find the ultimate +significance in life in individuality, novelty and the undefined, +would not only regard the poietic element as the most important in +human society, but would perceive quite clearly the impossibility +of its organisation. This, indeed, is simply the application to the +moral and intellectual fabric of the principles already applied in +discussing the State control of reproduction (in Chapter the Sixth, +§ 2). But just as in the case of births it was possible for the +State to frame limiting conditions within which individuality plays +more freely than in the void, so the founders of this modern Utopia +believed it possible to define conditions under which every +individual born with poietic gifts should be enabled and encouraged +to give them a full development, in art, philosophy, invention, or +discovery. Certain general conditions presented themselves as +obviously reasonable:—to give every citizen as good an education +as he or she could acquire, for example; to so frame it that the +directed educational process would never at any period occupy the +whole available time of the learner, but would provide throughout a +marginal free leisure with opportunities for developing +idiosyncrasies, and to ensure by the expedient of a minimum wage +for a specified amount of work, that leisure and opportunity did +not cease throughout life.</p> + +<p>But, in addition to thus making poietic activities universally +possible, the founders of this modern Utopia sought to supply +incentives, which was an altogether more difficult research, a +problem in its nature irresolvably complex, and admitting of no +systematic solution. But my double told me of a great variety of +devices by which poietic men and women were given honour and +enlarged freedoms, so soon as they produced an earnest of their +quality, and he explained to me how great an ambition they might +entertain.</p> + +<p>There were great systems of laboratories attached to every +municipal force station at which research could be conducted under +the most favourable conditions, and every mine, and, indeed, almost +every great industrial establishment, was saddled under its lease +with similar obligations. So much for poietic ability and research +in physical science. The World State tried the claims of every +living contributor to any materially valuable invention, and paid +or charged a royalty on its use that went partly to him personally, +and partly to the research institution that had produced him. In +the matter of literature and the philosophical and sociological +sciences, every higher educational establishment carried its +studentships, its fellowships, its occasional lectureships, and to +produce a poem, a novel, a speculative work of force or merit, was +to become the object of a generous competition between rival +Universities. In Utopia, any author has the option either of +publishing his works through the public bookseller as a private +speculation, or, if he is of sufficient merit, of accepting a +University endowment and conceding his copyright to the University +press. All sorts of grants in the hands of committees of the most +varied constitution, supplemented these academic resources, and +ensured that no possible contributor to the wide flow of the +Utopian mind slipped into neglect. Apart from those who engaged +mainly in teaching and administration, my double told me that the +world-wide House of Saloman [Footnote: <i>The New Atlantis</i>.] +thus created sustained over a million men. For all the rarity of +large fortunes, therefore, no original man with the desire and +capacity for material or mental experiments went long without +resources and the stimulus of attention, criticism, and +rivalry.</p> + +<p>“And finally,” said my double, “our Rules ensure a considerable +understanding of the importance of poietic activities in the +majority of the <i>samurai</i>, in whose hands as a class all the +real power of the world resides.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” said I, “and now we come to the thing that interests me +most. For it is quite clear, in my mind, that these <i>samurai</i> +form the real body of the State. All this time that I have spent +going to and fro in this planet, it has been growing upon me that +this order of men and women, wearing such a uniform as you wear, +and with faces strengthened by discipline and touched with +devotion, is the Utopian reality; but that for them, the whole +fabric of these fair appearances would crumble and tarnish, shrink +and shrivel, until at last, back I should be amidst the grime and +disorders of the life of earth. Tell me about these <i>samurai</i>, +who remind me of Plato's guardians, who look like Knights Templars, +who bear a name that recalls the swordsmen of Japan ... and whose +uniform you yourself are wearing. What are they? Are they an +hereditary caste, a specially educated order, an elected class? +For, certainly, this world turns upon them as a door upon its +hinges.”</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 4</h4> + +<p>“I follow the Common Rule, as many men do,” said my double, +answering my allusion to his uniform almost apologetically. “But my +own work is, in its nature, poietic; there is much dissatisfaction +with our isolation of criminals upon islands, and I am analysing +the psychology of prison officials and criminals in general with a +view to some better scheme. I am supposed to be ingenious with +expedients in this direction. Typically, the <i>samurai</i> are +engaged in administrative work. Practically the whole of the +responsible rule of the world is in their hands; all our head +teachers and disciplinary heads of colleges, our judges, +barristers, employers of labour beyond a certain limit, practising +medical men, legislators, must be <i>samurai</i>, and all the +executive committees, and so forth, that play so large a part in +our affairs are drawn by lot exclusively from them. The order is +not hereditary—we know just enough of biology and the +uncertainties of inheritance to know how silly that would be—and +it does not require an early consecration or novitiate or +ceremonies and initiations of that sort. The <i>samurai</i> are, in +fact, volunteers. Any intelligent adult in a reasonably healthy and +efficient state may, at any age after five-and-twenty, become one +of the <i>samurai</i>, and take a hand in the universal +control.”</p> + +<p>“Provided he follows the Rule.”</p> + +<p>“Precisely—provided he follows the Rule.”</p> + +<p>“I have heard the phrase, ‘voluntary nobility.’”</p> + +<p>“That was the idea of our Founders. They made a noble and +privileged order—open to the whole world. No one could complain of +an unjust exclusion, for the only thing that could exclude from the +order was unwillingness or inability to follow the Rule.”</p> + +<p>“But the Rule might easily have been made exclusive of special +lineages and races.”</p> + +<p>“That wasn't their intention. The Rule was planned to exclude +the dull, to be unattractive to the base, and to direct and +co-ordinate all sound citizens of good intent.”</p> + +<p>“And it has succeeded?”</p> + +<p>“As well as anything finite can. Life is still imperfect, still +a thick felt of dissatisfactions and perplexing problems, but most +certainly the quality of all its problems has been raised, and +there has been no war, no grinding poverty, not half the disease, +and an enormous increase of the order, beauty, and resources of +life since the <i>samurai</i>, who began as a private aggressive +cult, won their way to the rule of the world.”</p> + +<p>“I would like to have that history,” I said. “I expect there was +fighting?” He nodded. “But first—tell me about the Rule.”</p> + +<p>“The Rule aims to exclude the dull and base altogether, to +discipline the impulses and emotions, to develop a moral habit and +sustain a man in periods of stress, fatigue, and temptation, to +produce the maximum co-operation of all men of good intent, and, in +fact, to keep all the <i>samurai</i> in a state of moral and bodily +health and efficiency. It does as much of this as well as it can, +but, of course, like all general propositions, it does not do it in +any case with absolute precision. On the whole, it is so good that +most men who, like myself, are doing poietic work, and who would be +just as well off without obedience, find a satisfaction in +adhesion. At first, in the militant days, it was a trifle hard and +uncompromising; it had rather too strong an appeal to the moral +prig and harshly righteous man, but it has undergone, and still +undergoes, revision and expansion, and every year it becomes a +little better adapted to the need of a general rule of life that +all men may try to follow. We have now a whole literature, with +many very fine things in it, written about the Rule.”</p> + +<p>He glanced at a little book on his desk, took it up as if to +show it me, then put it down again.</p> + +<p>“The Rule consists of three parts; there is the list of things +that qualify, the list of things that must not be done, and the +list of things that must be done. Qualification exacts a little +exertion, as evidence of good faith, and it is designed to weed out +the duller dull and many of the base. Our schooling period ends now +about fourteen, and a small number of boys and girls—about three +per cent.—are set aside then as unteachable, as, in fact, nearly +idiotic; the rest go on to a college or upper school.”</p> + +<p>“All your population?”</p> + +<p>“With that exception.”</p> + +<p>“Free?”</p> + +<p>“Of course. And they pass out of college at eighteen. There are +several different college courses, but one or other must be +followed and a satisfactory examination passed at the end—perhaps +ten per cent. fail—and the Rule requires that the candidate for +the <i>samurai</i> must have passed.”</p> + +<p>“But a very good man is sometimes an idle schoolboy.”</p> + +<p>“We admit that. And so anyone who has failed to pass the college +leaving examination may at any time in later life sit for it +again—and again and again. Certain carefully specified things +excuse it altogether.”</p> + +<p>“That makes it fair. But aren't there people who cannot pass +examinations?”</p> + +<p>“People of nervous instability―”</p> + +<p>“But they may be people of great though irregular poietic +gifts.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly. That is quite possible. But we don't want that sort of +people among our <i>samurai</i>. Passing an examination is a proof +of a certain steadiness of purpose, a certain self-control and +submission―”</p> + +<p>“Of a certain ‘ordinariness.’”</p> + +<p>“Exactly what is wanted.”</p> + +<p>“Of course, those others can follow other careers.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. That's what we want them to do. And, besides these two +educational qualifications, there are two others of a similar kind +of more debateable value. One is practically not in operation now. +Our Founders put it that a candidate for the <i>samurai</i> must +possess what they called a Technique, and, as it operated in the +beginning, he had to hold the qualification for a doctor, for a +lawyer, for a military officer, or an engineer, or teacher, or have +painted acceptable pictures, or written a book, or something of the +sort. He had, in fact, as people say, to ‘be something,’ or to have +‘done something.’ It was a regulation of vague intention even in +the beginning, and it became catholic to the pitch of absurdity. To +play a violin skilfully has been accepted as sufficient for this +qualification. There may have been a reason in the past for this +provision; in those days there were many daughters of prosperous +parents—and even some sons—who did nothing whatever but idle +uninterestingly in the world, and the organisation might have +suffered by their invasion, but that reason has gone now, and the +requirement remains a merely ceremonial requirement. But, on the +other hand, another has developed. Our Founders made a collection +of several volumes, which they called, collectively, the Book of +the Samurai, a compilation of articles and extracts, poems and +prose pieces, which were supposed to embody the idea of the order. +It was to play the part for the <i>samurai</i> that the Bible did +for the ancient Hebrews. To tell you the truth, the stuff was of +very unequal merit; there was a lot of very second-rate rhetoric, +and some nearly namby-pamby verse. There was also included some +very obscure verse and prose that had the trick of seeming wise. +But for all such defects, much of the Book, from the very +beginning, was splendid and inspiring matter. From that time to +this, the Book of the Samurai has been under revision, much has +been added, much rejected, and some deliberately rewritten. Now, +there is hardly anything in it that is not beautiful and perfect in +form. The whole range of noble emotions finds expression there, and +all the guiding ideas of our Modern State. We have recently +admitted some terse criticism of its contents by a man named +Henley.”</p> + +<p>“Old Henley!”</p> + +<p>“A man who died a little time ago.”</p> + +<p>“I knew that man on earth. And he was in Utopia, too! He was a +great red-faced man, with fiery hair, a noisy, intolerant maker of +enemies, with a tender heart—and he was one of the +<i>samurai</i>?”</p> + +<p>“He defied the Rules.”</p> + +<p>“He was a great man with wine. He wrote like wine; in our world +he wrote wine; red wine with the light shining through.”</p> + +<p>“He was on the Committee that revised our Canon. For the +revising and bracing of our Canon is work for poietic as well as +kinetic men. You knew him in your world?”</p> + +<p>“I wish I had. But I have seen him. On earth he wrote a thing ... +it would run—</p> + +<blockquote>“Out of the night that covers me,<br> + Black as the pit from pole to pole,<br> +I thank whatever Gods may be,<br> + For my unconquerable soul....”</blockquote> + +<p>“We have that here. All good earthly things are in Utopia also. +We put that in the Canon almost as soon as he died,” said my +double.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 5</h4> + +<p>“We have now a double Canon, a very fine First Canon, and a +Second Canon of work by living men and work of inferior quality, +and a satisfactory knowledge of both of these is the fourth +intellectual qualification for the <i>samurai</i>.”</p> + +<p>“It must keep a sort of uniformity in your tone of thought.”</p> + +<p>“The Canon pervades our whole world. As a matter of fact, very +much of it is read and learnt in the schools.... Next to the +intellectual qualification comes the physical, the man must be in +sound health, free from certain foul, avoidable, and demoralising +diseases, and in good training. We reject men who are fat, or thin +and flabby, or whose nerves are shaky—we refer them back to +training. And finally the man or woman must be fully adult.”</p> + +<p>“Twenty-one? But you said twenty-five!”</p> + +<p>“The age has varied. At first it was twenty-five or over; then +the minimum became twenty-five for men and twenty-one for women. +Now there is a feeling that it ought to be raised. We don't want to +take advantage of mere boy and girl emotions—men of my way of +thinking, at any rate, don't—we want to get our <i>samurai</i> +with experiences, with a settled mature conviction. Our hygiene and +regimen are rapidly pushing back old age and death, and keeping men +hale and hearty to eighty and more. There's no need to hurry the +young. Let them have a chance of wine, love, and song; let them +feel the bite of full-bodied desire, and know what devils they have +to reckon with.”</p> + +<p>“But there is a certain fine sort of youth that knows the +desirability of the better things at nineteen.”</p> + +<p>“They may keep the Rule at any time—without its privileges. But +a man who breaks the Rule after his adult adhesion at +five-and-twenty is no more in the <i>samurai</i> for ever. Before +that age he is free to break it and repent.”</p> + +<p>“And now, what is forbidden?”</p> + +<p>“We forbid a good deal. Many small pleasures do no great harm, +but we think it well to forbid them, none the less, so that we can +weed out the self-indulgent. We think that a constant resistance to +little seductions is good for a man's quality. At any rate, it +shows that a man is prepared to pay something for his honour and +privileges. We prescribe a regimen of food, forbid tobacco, wine, +or any alcoholic drink, all narcotic drugs―”</p> + +<p>“Meat?”</p> + +<p>“In all the round world of Utopia there is no meat. There used +to be. But now we cannot stand the thought of slaughter-houses. +And, in a population that is all educated, and at about the same +level of physical refinement, it is practically impossible to find +anyone who will hew a dead ox or pig. We never settled the hygienic +question of meat-eating at all. This other aspect decided us. I can +still remember, as a boy, the rejoicings over the closing of the +last slaughter-house.”</p> + +<p>“You eat fish.”</p> + +<p>“It isn't a matter of logic. In our barbaric past horrible +flayed carcases of brutes dripping blood, were hung for sale in the +public streets.” He shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“They do that still in London—in <i>my</i> world,” I said.</p> + +<p>He looked again at my laxer, coarser face, and did not say +whatever thought had passed across his mind.</p> + +<p>“Originally the <i>samurai</i> were forbidden usury, that is to +say the lending of money at fixed rates of interest. They are still +under that interdiction, but since our commercial code practically +prevents usury altogether, and our law will not recognise contracts +for interest upon private accommodation loans to unprosperous +borrowers, it is now scarcely necessary. The idea of a man growing +richer by mere inaction and at the expense of an impoverishing +debtor, is profoundly distasteful to Utopian ideas, and our State +insists pretty effectually now upon the participation of the lender +in the borrower's risks. This, however, is only one part of a +series of limitations of the same character. It is felt that to buy +simply in order to sell again brings out many unsocial human +qualities; it makes a man seek to enhance profits and falsify +values, and so the <i>samurai</i> are forbidden to buy to sell on +their own account or for any employer save the State, unless some +process of manufacture changes the nature of the commodity (a mere +change in bulk or packing does not suffice), and they are forbidden +salesmanship and all its arts. Consequently they cannot be +hotel-keepers, or hotel proprietors, or hotel shareholders, and a +doctor—all practising doctors must be <i>samurai</i>—cannot sell +drugs except as a public servant of the municipality or the +State.”</p> + +<p>“That, of course, runs counter to all our current terrestrial +ideas,” I said. “We are obsessed by the power of money. These rules +will work out as a vow of moderate poverty, and if your +<i>samurai</i> are an order of poor men―”</p> + +<p>“They need not be. <i>Samurai</i> who have invented, organised, +and developed new industries, have become rich men, and many men +who have grown rich by brilliant and original trading have +subsequently become <i>samurai</i>.”</p> + +<p>“But these are exceptional cases. The bulk of your money-making +business must be confined to men who are not <i>samurai</i>. You +must have a class of rich, powerful outsiders―”</p> + +<p>“<i>Have</i> we?”</p> + +<p>“I don't see the evidences of them.”</p> + +<p>“As a matter of fact, we have such people! There are rich +traders, men who have made discoveries in the economy of +distribution, or who have called attention by intelligent, truthful +advertisement to the possibilities of neglected commodities, for +example.”</p> + +<p>“But aren't they a power?”</p> + +<p>“Why should they be?”</p> + +<p>“Wealth <i>is</i> power.”</p> + +<p>I had to explain that phrase.</p> + +<p>He protested. “Wealth,” he said, “is no sort of power at all +unless you make it one. If it is so in your world it is so by +inadvertency. Wealth is a State-made thing, a convention, the most +artificial of powers. You can, by subtle statesmanship, contrive +what it shall buy and what it shall not. In your world it would +seem you have made leisure, movement, any sort of freedom, life +itself, <i>purchaseable</i>. The more fools you! A poor working man +with you is a man in discomfort and fear. No wonder your rich have +power. But here a reasonable leisure, a decent life, is to be had +by every man on easier terms than by selling himself to the rich. +And rich as men are here, there is no private fortune in the whole +world that is more than a little thing beside the wealth of the +State. The <i>samurai</i> control the State and the wealth of the +State, and by their vows they may not avail themselves of any of +the coarser pleasures wealth can still buy. Where, then, is the +power of your wealthy man?”</p> + +<p>“But, then—where is the incentive―?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! a man gets things for himself with wealth—no end of +things. But little or no power over his fellows—unless they are +exceptionally weak or self-indulgent persons.”</p> + +<p>I reflected. “What else may not the <i>samurai</i> do?”</p> + +<p>“Acting, singing, or reciting are forbidden them, though they +may lecture authoritatively or debate. But professional mimicry is +not only held to be undignified in a man or woman, but to weaken +and corrupt the soul; the mind becomes foolishly dependent on +applause, over-skilful in producing tawdry and momentary illusions +of excellence; it is our experience that actors and actresses as a +class are loud, ignoble, and insincere. If they have not such +flamboyant qualities then they are tepid and ineffectual players. +Nor may the <i>samurai</i> do personal services, except in the +matter of medicine or surgery; they may not be barbers, for +example, nor inn waiters, nor boot cleaners. But, nowadays, we have +scarcely any barbers or boot cleaners; men do these things for +themselves. Nor may a man under the Rule be any man's servant, +pledged to do whatever he is told. He may neither be a servant nor +keep one; he must shave and dress and serve himself, carry his own +food from the helper's place to the table, redd his sleeping room, +and leave it clean....”</p> + +<p>“That is all easy enough in a world as ordered as yours. I +suppose no <i>samurai</i> may bet?”</p> + +<p>“Absolutely not. He may insure his life and his old age for the +better equipment of his children, or for certain other specified +ends, but that is all his dealings with chance. And he is also +forbidden to play games in public or to watch them being played. +Certain dangerous and hardy sports and exercises are prescribed for +him, but not competitive sports between man and man or side and +side. That lesson was learnt long ago before the coming of the +<i>samurai</i>. Gentlemen of honour, according to the old +standards, rode horses, raced chariots, fought, and played +competitive games of skill, and the dull, cowardly and base came in +thousands to admire, and howl, and bet. The gentlemen of honour +degenerated fast enough into a sort of athletic prostitute, with +all the defects, all the vanity, trickery, and self-assertion of +the common actor, and with even less intelligence. Our Founders +made no peace with this organisation of public sports. They did not +spend their lives to secure for all men and women on the earth +freedom, health, and leisure, in order that they might waste lives +in such folly.”</p> + +<p>“We have those abuses,” I said, “but some of our earthly games +have a fine side. There is a game called cricket. It is a fine, +generous game.”</p> + +<p>“Our boys play that, and men too. But it is thought rather +puerile to give very much time to it; men should have graver +interests. It was undignified and unpleasant for the <i>samurai</i> +to play conspicuously ill, and impossible for them to play so +constantly as to keep hand and eye in training against the man who +was fool enough and cheap enough to become an expert. Cricket, +tennis, fives, billiards―. You will find clubs and a class of +men to play all these things in Utopia, but not the <i>samurai</i>. +And they must play their games as games, not as displays; the price +of a privacy for playing cricket, so that they could charge for +admission, would be overwhelmingly high.... Negroes are often very +clever at cricket. For a time, most of the <i>samurai</i> had their +sword-play, but few do those exercises now, and until about fifty +years ago they went out for military training, a fortnight in every +year, marching long distances, sleeping in the open, carrying +provisions, and sham fighting over unfamiliar ground dotted with +disappearing targets. There was a curious inability in our world to +realise that war was really over for good and all.”</p> + +<p>“And now,” I said, “haven't we got very nearly to the end of +your prohibitions? You have forbidden alcohol, drugs, smoking, +betting, and usury, games, trade, servants. But isn't there a vow +of Chastity?”</p> + +<p>“That is the Rule for your earthly orders?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—except, if I remember rightly, for Plato's Guardians.”</p> + +<p>“There is a Rule of Chastity here—but not of Celibacy. We know +quite clearly that civilisation is an artificial arrangement, and +that all the physical and emotional instincts of man are too +strong, and his natural instinct of restraint too weak, for him to +live easily in the civilised State. Civilisation has developed far +more rapidly than man has modified. Under the unnatural perfection +of security, liberty and abundance our civilisation has attained, +the normal untrained human being is disposed to excess in almost +every direction; he tends to eat too much and too elaborately, to +drink too much, to become lazy faster than his work can be reduced, +to waste his interest upon displays, and to make love too much and +too elaborately. He gets out of training, and concentrates upon +egoistic or erotic broodings. The past history of our race is very +largely a history of social collapses due to demoralisation by +indulgences following security and abundance. In the time of our +Founders the signs of a world-wide epoch of prosperity and +relaxation were plentiful. Both sexes drifted towards sexual +excesses, the men towards sentimental extravagances, imbecile +devotions, and the complication and refinement of physical +indulgences; the women towards those expansions and +differentiations of feeling that find expression in music and +costly and distinguished dress. Both sexes became unstable and +promiscuous. The whole world seemed disposed to do exactly the same +thing with its sexual interest as it had done with its appetite for +food and drink—make the most of it.”</p> + +<p>He paused.</p> + +<p>“Satiety came to help you,” I said.</p> + +<p>“Destruction may come before satiety. Our Founders organised +motives from all sorts of sources, but I think the chief force to +give men self-control is Pride. Pride may not be the noblest thing +in the soul, but it is the best King there, for all that. They +looked to it to keep a man clean and sound and sane. In this +matter, as in all matters of natural desire, they held no appetite +must be glutted, no appetite must have artificial whets, and also +and equally that no appetite should be starved. A man must come +from the table satisfied, but not replete. And, in the matter of +love, a straight and clean desire for a clean and straight +fellow-creature was our Founders' ideal. They enjoined marriage +between equals as the <i>samurai's</i> duty to the race, and they +framed directions of the precisest sort to prevent that uxorious +inseparableness, that connubiality which will reduce a couple of +people to something jointly less than either. That Canon is too +long to tell you now. A man under the Rule who loves a woman who +does not follow it, must either leave the <i>samurai</i> to marry +her, or induce her to accept what is called the Woman's Rule, +which, while it excepts her from the severer qualifications and +disciplines, brings her regimen of life into a working harmony with +his.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose she breaks the Rule afterwards?”</p> + +<p>“He must leave either her or the order.”</p> + +<p>“There is matter for a novel or so in that.”</p> + +<p>“There has been matter for hundreds.”</p> + +<p>“Is the Woman's Rule a sumptuary law as well as a regimen? I +mean—may she dress as she pleases?”</p> + +<p>“Not a bit of it,” said my double. “Every woman who could +command money used it, we found, to make underbred aggressions on +other women. As men emerged to civilisation, women seemed going +back to savagery—to paint and feathers. But the <i>samurai</i>, +both men and women, and the women under the Lesser Rule also, all +have a particular dress. No difference is made between women under +either the Great or the Lesser Rule. You have seen the men's +dress—always like this I wear. The women may wear the same, either +with the hair cut short or plaited behind them, or they may have a +high-waisted dress of very fine, soft woollen material, with their +hair coiled up behind.”</p> + +<p>“I have seen it,” I said. Indeed, nearly all the women had +seemed to be wearing variants of that simple formula. “It seems to +me a very beautiful dress. The other—I'm not used to. But I like +it on girls and slender women.”</p> + +<p>I had a thought, and added, “Don't they sometimes, well—take a +good deal of care, dressing their hair?”</p> + +<p>My double laughed in my eyes. “They do,” he said.</p> + +<p>“And the Rule?”</p> + +<p>“The Rule is never fussy,” said my double, still smiling.</p> + +<p>“We don't want women to cease to be beautiful, and consciously +beautiful, if you like,” he added. “The more real beauty of form +and face we have, the finer our world. But costly sexualised +trappings―”</p> + +<p>“I should have thought,” I said, “a class of women who traded on +their sex would have arisen, women, I mean, who found an interest +and an advantage in emphasising their individual womanly beauty. +There is no law to prevent it. Surely they would tend to counteract +the severity of costume the Rule dictates.”</p> + +<p>“There are such women. But for all that the Rule sets the key of +everyday dress. If a woman is possessed by the passion for gorgeous +raiment she usually satisfies it in her own private circle, or with +rare occasional onslaughts upon the public eye. Her everyday mood +and the disposition of most people is against being conspicuous +abroad. And I should say there are little liberties under the +Lesser Rule; a discreet use of fine needlework and embroidery, a +wider choice of materials.”</p> + +<p>“You have no changing fashions?”</p> + +<p>“None. For all that, are not our dresses as beautiful as +yours?”</p> + +<p>“Our women's dresses are not beautiful at all,” I said, forced +for a time towards the mysterious philosophy of dress. “Beauty? +That isn't their concern.”</p> + +<p>“Then what are they after?”</p> + +<p>“My dear man! What is all my world after?”</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 6</h4> + +<p>I should come to our third talk with a great curiosity to hear +of the last portion of the Rule, of the things that the +<i>samurai</i> are obliged to do.</p> + +<p>There would be many precise directions regarding his health, and +rules that would aim at once at health and that constant exercise +of will that makes life good. Save in specified exceptional +circumstances, the <i>samurai</i> must bathe in cold water, and the +men must shave every day; they have the precisest directions in +such matters; the body must be in health, the skin and muscles and +nerves in perfect tone, or the <i>samurai</i> must go to the +doctors of the order, and give implicit obedience to the regimen +prescribed. They must sleep alone at least four nights in five; and +they must eat with and talk to anyone in their fellowship who cares +for their conversation for an hour, at least, at the nearest +club-house of the <i>samurai</i> once on three chosen days in every +week. Moreover, they must read aloud from the Book of the Samurai +for at least ten minutes every day. Every month they must buy and +read faithfully through at least one book that has been published +during the past five years, and the only intervention with private +choice in that matter is the prescription of a certain minimum of +length for the monthly book or books. But the full Rule in these +minor compulsory matters is voluminous and detailed, and it abounds +with alternatives. Its aim is rather to keep before the +<i>samurai</i> by a number of sample duties, as it were, the need +of, and some of the chief methods towards health of body and mind, +rather than to provide a comprehensive rule, and to ensure the +maintenance of a community of feeling and interests among the +<i>samurai</i> through habit, intercourse, and a living +contemporary literature. These minor obligations do not earmark +more than an hour in the day. Yet they serve to break down +isolations of sympathy, all sorts of physical and intellectual +sluggishness and the development of unsocial preoccupations of many +sorts.</p> + +<p>Women <i>samurai</i> who are married, my double told me, must +bear children—if they are to remain married as well as in the +order—before the second period for terminating a childless +marriage is exhausted. I failed to ask for the precise figures from +my double at the time, but I think it is beyond doubt that it is +from <i>samurai</i> mothers of the Greater or Lesser Rule that a +very large proportion of the future population of Utopia will be +derived. There is one liberty accorded to women <i>samurai</i> +which is refused to men, and that is to marry outside the Rule, and +women married to men not under the Rule are also free to become +<i>samurai</i>. Here, too, it will be manifest there is scope for +novels and the drama of life. In practice, it seems that it is only +men of great poietic distinction outside the Rule, or great +commercial leaders, who have wives under it. The tendency of such +unions is either to bring the husband under the Rule, or take the +wife out of it. There can be no doubt that these marriage +limitations tend to make the <i>samurai</i> something of an +hereditary class. Their children, as a rule, become <i>samurai</i>. +But it is not an exclusive caste; subject to the most reasonable +qualifications, anyone who sees fit can enter it at any time, and +so, unlike all other privileged castes the world has seen, it +increases relatively to the total population, and may indeed at +last assimilate almost the whole population of the earth.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 7</h4> + +<p>So much my double told me readily.</p> + +<p>But now he came to the heart of all his explanations, to the +will and motives at the centre that made men and women ready to +undergo discipline, to renounce the richness and elaboration of the +sensuous life, to master emotions and control impulses, to keep in +the key of effort while they had abundance about them to rouse and +satisfy all desires, and his exposition was more difficult.</p> + +<p>He tried to make his religion clear to me.</p> + +<p>The leading principle of the Utopian religion is the repudiation +of the doctrine of original sin; the Utopians hold that man, on the +whole, is good. That is their cardinal belief. Man has pride and +conscience, they hold, that you may refine by training as you +refine his eye and ear; he has remorse and sorrow in his being, +coming on the heels of all inconsequent enjoyments. How can one +think of him as bad? He is religious; religion is as natural to him +as lust and anger, less intense, indeed, but coming with a +wide-sweeping inevitableness as peace comes after all tumults and +noises. And in Utopia they understand this, or, at least, the +<i>samurai</i> do, clearly. They accept Religion as they accept +Thirst, as something inseparably in the mysterious rhythms of life. +And just as thirst and pride and all desires may be perverted in an +age of abundant opportunities, and men may be degraded and wasted +by intemperance in drinking, by display, or by ambition, so too the +nobler complex of desires that constitutes religion may be turned +to evil by the dull, the base, and the careless. Slovenly +indulgence in religious inclinations, a failure to think hard and +discriminate as fairly as possible in religious matters, is just as +alien to the men under the Rule as it would be to drink deeply +because they were thirsty, eat until glutted, evade a bath because +the day was chilly, or make love to any bright-eyed girl who +chanced to look pretty in the dusk. Utopia, which is to have every +type of character that one finds on earth, will have its temples +and its priests, just as it will have its actresses and wine, but +the <i>samurai</i> will be forbidden the religion of dramatically +lit altars, organ music, and incense, as distinctly as they are +forbidden the love of painted women, or the consolations of brandy. +And to all the things that are less than religion and that seek to +comprehend it, to cosmogonies and philosophies, to creeds and +formulæ, to catechisms and easy explanations, the attitude of +the <i>samurai</i>, the note of the Book of Samurai, will be +distrust. These things, the <i>samurai</i> will say, are part of +the indulgences that should come before a man submits himself to +the Rule; they are like the early gratifications of young men, +experiences to establish renunciation. The <i>samurai</i> will have +emerged above these things.</p> + +<p>The theology of the Utopian rulers will be saturated with that +same philosophy of uniqueness, that repudiation of anything beyond +similarities and practical parallelisms, that saturates all their +institutions. They will have analysed exhaustively those fallacies +and assumptions that arise between the One and the Many, that have +troubled philosophy since philosophy began. Just as they will have +escaped that delusive unification of every species under its +specific definition that has dominated earthly reasoning, so they +will have escaped the delusive simplification of God that vitiates +all terrestrial theology. They will hold God to be complex and of +an endless variety of aspects, to be expressed by no universal +formula nor approved in any uniform manner. Just as the language of +Utopia will be a synthesis, even so will its God be. The aspect of +God is different in the measure of every man's individuality, and +the intimate thing of religion must, therefore, exist in human +solitude, between man and God alone. Religion in its quintessence +is a relation between God and man; it is perversion to make it a +relation between man and man, and a man may no more reach God +through a priest than love his wife through a priest. But just as a +man in love may refine the interpretation of his feelings and +borrow expression from the poems and music of poietic men, so an +individual man may at his discretion read books of devotion and +hear music that is in harmony with his inchoate feelings. Many of +the <i>samurai</i>, therefore, will set themselves private regimens +that will help their secret religious life, will pray habitually, +and read books of devotion, but with these things the Rule of the +order will have nothing to do.</p> + +<p>Clearly the God of the <i>samurai</i> is a transcendental and +mystical God. So far as the <i>samurai</i> have a purpose in common +in maintaining the State, and the order and progress of the world, +so far, by their discipline and denial, by their public work and +effort, they worship God together. But the fount of motives lies in +the individual life, it lies in silent and deliberate reflections, +and at this, the most striking of all the rules of the +<i>samurai</i> aims. For seven consecutive days in the year, at +least, each man or woman under the Rule must go right out of all +the life of man into some wild and solitary place, must speak to no +man or woman, and have no sort of intercourse with mankind. They +must go bookless and weaponless, without pen or paper, or money. +Provisions must be taken for the period of the journey, a rug or +sleeping sack—for they must sleep under the open sky—but no means +of making a fire. They may study maps beforehand to guide them, +showing any difficulties and dangers in the journey, but they may +not carry such helps. They must not go by beaten ways or wherever +there are inhabited houses, but into the bare, quiet places of the +globe—the regions set apart for them.</p> + +<p>This discipline, my double said, was invented to secure a +certain stoutness of heart and body in the members of the order, +which otherwise might have lain open to too many timorous, merely +abstemious, men and women. Many things had been suggested, +swordplay and tests that verged on torture, climbing in giddy +places and the like, before this was chosen. Partly, it is to +ensure good training and sturdiness of body and mind, but partly, +also, it is to draw their minds for a space from the insistent +details of life, from the intricate arguments and the fretting +effort to work, from personal quarrels and personal affections, and +the things of the heated room. Out they must go, clean out of the +world.</p> + +<p>Certain great areas are set apart for these yearly pilgrimages +beyond the securities of the State. There are thousands of square +miles of sandy desert in Africa and Asia set apart; much of the +Arctic and Antarctic circles; vast areas of mountain land and +frozen marsh; secluded reserves of forest, and innumerable +unfrequented lines upon the sea. Some are dangerous and laborious +routes; some merely desolate; and there are even some sea journeys +that one may take in the halcyon days as one drifts through a +dream. Upon the seas one must go in a little undecked sailing boat, +that may be rowed in a calm; all the other journeys one must do +afoot, none aiding. There are, about all these desert regions and +along most coasts, little offices at which the <i>samurai</i> says +good-bye to the world of men, and at which they arrive after their +minimum time of silence is overpast. For the intervening days they +must be alone with Nature, necessity, and their own thoughts.</p> + +<p>“It is good?” I said.</p> + +<p>“It is good,” my double answered. “We civilised men go back to +the stark Mother that so many of us would have forgotten were it +not for this Rule. And one thinks.... Only two weeks ago I did my +journey for the year. I went with my gear by sea to Tromso, and +then inland to a starting-place, and took my ice-axe and +rücksack, and said good-bye to the world. I crossed over four +glaciers; I climbed three high mountain passes, and slept on moss +in desolate valleys. I saw no human being for seven days. Then I +came down through pine woods to the head of a road that runs to the +Baltic shore. Altogether it was thirteen days before I reported +myself again, and had speech with fellow creatures.”</p> + +<p>“And the women do this?”</p> + +<p>“The women who are truly <i>samurai</i>—yes. Equally with the +men. Unless the coming of children intervenes.”</p> + +<p>I asked him how it had seemed to him, and what he thought about +during the journey.</p> + +<p>“There is always a sense of effort for me,” he said, “when I +leave the world at the outset of the journey. I turn back again and +again, and look at the little office as I go up my mountain side. +The first day and night I'm a little disposed to shirk the +job—every year it's the same—a little disposed, for example, to +sling my pack from my back, and sit down, and go through its +contents, and make sure I've got all my equipment.”</p> + +<p>“There's no chance of anyone overtaking you?”</p> + +<p>“Two men mustn't start from the same office on the same route +within six hours of each other. If they come within sight of each +other, they must shun an encounter, and make no sign—unless life +is in danger. All that is arranged beforehand.”</p> + +<p>“It would be, of course. Go on telling me of your journey.”</p> + +<p>“I dread the night. I dread discomfort and bad weather. I only +begin to brace up after the second day.”</p> + +<p>“Don't you worry about losing your way?”</p> + +<p>“No. There are cairns and skyline signs. If it wasn't for that, +of course we should be worrying with maps the whole time. But I'm +only sure of being a man after the second night, and sure of my +power to go through.”</p> + +<p>“And then?”</p> + +<p>“Then one begins to get into it. The first two days one is apt +to have the events of one's journey, little incidents of travel, +and thoughts of one's work and affairs, rising and fading and +coming again; but then the perspectives begin. I don't sleep much +at nights on these journeys; I lie awake and stare at the stars. +About dawn, perhaps, and in the morning sunshine, I sleep! The +nights this last time were very short, never more than twilight, +and I saw the glow of the sun always, just over the edge of the +world. But I had chosen the days of the new moon, so that I could +have a glimpse of the stars.... Years ago, I went from the Nile +across the Libyan Desert east, and then the stars—the stars in the +later days of that journey—brought me near weeping.... You begin +to feel alone on the third day, when you find yourself out on some +shining snowfield, and nothing of mankind visible in the whole +world save one landmark, one remote thin red triangle of iron, +perhaps, in the saddle of the ridge against the sky. All this busy +world that has done so much and so marvellously, and is still so +little—you see it little as it is—and far off. All day long you +go and the night comes, and it might be another planet. Then, in +the quiet, waking hours, one thinks of one's self and the great +external things, of space and eternity, and what one means by +God.”</p> + +<p>He mused.</p> + +<p>“You think of death?”</p> + +<p>“Not of my own. But when I go among snows and desolations—and +usually I take my pilgrimage in mountains or the north—I think +very much of the Night of this World—the time when our sun will be +red and dull, and air and water will lie frozen together in a +common snowfield where now the forests of the tropics are +steaming.... I think very much of that, and whether it is indeed +God's purpose that our kind should end, and the cities we have +built, the books we have written, all that we have given substance +and a form, should lie dead beneath the snows.”</p> + +<p>“You don't believe that?”</p> + +<p>“No. But if it is not so―. I went threading my way among +gorges and precipices, with my poor brain dreaming of what the +alternative should be, with my imagination straining and failing. +Yet, in those high airs and in such solitude, a kind of exaltation +comes to men.... I remember that one night I sat up and told the +rascal stars very earnestly how they should not escape us in the +end.”</p> + +<p>He glanced at me for a moment as though he doubted I should +understand.</p> + +<p>“One becomes a personification up there,” he said. “One becomes +the ambassador of mankind to the outer world.</p> + +<p>“There is time to think over a lot of things. One puts one's +self and one's ambition in a new pair of scales....</p> + +<p>“Then there are hours when one is just exploring the wilderness +like a child. Sometimes perhaps one gets a glimpse from some +precipice edge of the plains far away, and houses and roadways, and +remembers there is still a busy world of men. And at last one turns +one's feet down some slope, some gorge that leads back. You come +down, perhaps, into a pine forest, and hear that queer clatter +reindeer make—and then, it may be, see a herdsman very far away, +watching you. You wear your pilgrim's badge, and he makes no sign +of seeing you....</p> + +<p>“You know, after these solitudes, I feel just the same queer +disinclination to go back to the world of men that I feel when I +have to leave it. I think of dusty roads and hot valleys, and being +looked at by many people. I think of the trouble of working with +colleagues and opponents. This last journey I outstayed my time, +camping in the pine woods for six days. Then my thoughts came round +to my proper work again. I got keen to go on with it, and so I came +back into the world. You come back physically clean—as though you +had had your arteries and veins washed out. And your brain has been +cleaned, too.... I shall stick to the mountains now until I am old, +and then I shall sail a boat in Polynesia. That is what so many old +men do. Only last year one of the great leaders of the +<i>samurai</i>—a white-haired man, who followed the Rule in spite +of his one hundred and eleven years—was found dead in his boat far +away from any land, far to the south, lying like a child +asleep....”</p> + +<p>“That's better than a tumbled bed,” said I, “and some boy of a +doctor jabbing you with injections, and distressful people hovering +about you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said my double; “in Utopia we who are samurai die better +than that.... Is that how your great men die?”</p> + +<p>It came to me suddenly as very strange that, even as we sat and +talked, across deserted seas, on burning sands, through the still +aisles of forests, and in all the high and lonely places of the +world, beyond the margin where the ways and houses go, solitary men +and women sailed alone or marched alone, or clambered—quiet, +resolute exiles; they stood alone amidst wildernesses of ice, on +the precipitous banks of roaring torrents, in monstrous caverns, or +steering a tossing boat in the little circle of the horizon amidst +the tumbled, incessant sea, all in their several ways communing +with the emptiness, the enigmatic spaces and silences, the winds +and torrents and soulless forces that lie about the lit and ordered +life of men.</p> + +<p>I saw more clearly now something I had seen dimly already, in +the bearing and the faces of this Utopian chivalry, a faint +persistent tinge of detachment from the immediate heats and +hurries, the little graces and delights, the tensions and +stimulations of the daily world. It pleased me strangely to think +of this steadfast yearly pilgrimage of solitude, and how near men +might come then to the high distances of God.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 8</h4> + +<p>After that I remember we fell talking of the discipline of the +Rule, of the Courts that try breaches of it, and interpret doubtful +cases—for, though a man may resign with due notice and be free +after a certain time to rejoin again, one deliberate breach may +exclude a man for ever—of the system of law that has grown up +about such trials, and of the triennial council that revises and +alters the Rule. From that we passed to the discussion of the +general constitution of this World State. Practically all political +power vests in the <i>samurai</i>. Not only are they the only +administrators, lawyers, practising doctors, and public officials +of almost all kinds, but they are the only voters. Yet, by a +curious exception, the supreme legislative assembly must have +one-tenth, and may have one-half of its members outside the order, +because, it is alleged, there is a sort of wisdom that comes of sin +and laxness, which is necessary to the perfect ruling of life. My +double quoted me a verse from the Canon on this matter that my +unfortunate verbal memory did not retain, but it was in the nature +of a prayer to save the world from “unfermented men.” It would seem +that Aristotle's idea of a rotation of rulers, an idea that crops +up again in Harrington's <i>Oceana</i>, that first Utopia of “the +sovereign people” (a Utopia that, through Danton's readings in +English, played a disastrous part in the French Revolution), gets a +little respect in Utopia. The tendency is to give a practically +permanent tenure to good men. Every ruler and official, it is true, +is put on his trial every three years before a jury drawn by lot, +according to the range of his activities, either from the +<i>samurai</i> of his municipal area or from the general catalogue +of the <i>samurai</i>, but the business of this jury is merely to +decide whether to continue him in office or order a new election. +In the majority of cases the verdict is continuation. Even if it is +not so the official may still appear as a candidate before the +second and separate jury which fills the vacant post....</p> + +<p>My double mentioned a few scattered details of the electoral +methods, but as at that time I believed we were to have a number of +further conversations, I did not exhaust my curiosities upon this +subject. Indeed, I was more than a little preoccupied and +inattentive. The religion of the <i>samurai</i> was after my heart, +and it had taken hold of me very strongly.... But presently I fell +questioning him upon the complications that arise in the Modern +Utopia through the differences between the races of men, and found +my attention returning. But the matter of that discussion I shall +put apart into a separate chapter. In the end we came back to the +particulars of this great Rule of Life that any man desiring of +joining the <i>samurai</i> must follow.</p> + +<p>I remember how, after our third bout of talking, I walked back +through the streets of Utopian London to rejoin the botanist at our +hotel.</p> + +<p>My double lived in an apartment in a great building—I should +judge about where, in our London, the Tate Gallery squats, and, as +the day was fine, and I had no reason for hurry, I went not by the +covered mechanical way, but on foot along the broad, tree-set +terraces that follow the river on either side.</p> + +<p>It was afternoon, and the mellow Thames Valley sunlight, warm +and gentle, lit a clean and gracious world. There were many people +abroad, going to and fro, unhurrying, but not aimless, and I +watched them so attentively that were you to ask me for the most +elementary details of the buildings and terraces that lay back on +either bank, or of the pinnacles and towers and parapets that laced +the sky, I could not tell you them. But of the people I could tell +a great deal.</p> + +<p>No Utopians wear black, and for all the frequency of the +<i>samurai</i> uniform along the London ways the general effect is +of a gaily-coloured population. You never see anyone noticeably +ragged or dirty; the police, who answer questions and keep order +(and are quite distinct from the organisation for the pursuit of +criminals) see to that; and shabby people are very infrequent. +People who want to save money for other purposes, or who do not +want much bother with their clothing, seem to wear costumes of +rough woven cloth, dyed an unobtrusive brown or green, over fine +woollen underclothing, and so achieve a decent comfort in its +simplest form. Others outside the Rule of the <i>samurai</i> range +the spectrum for colour, and have every variety of texture; the +colours attained by the Utopian dyers seem to me to be fuller and +purer than the common range of stuffs on earth; and the subtle +folding of the woollen materials witness that Utopian Bradford is +no whit behind her earthly sister. White is extraordinarily +frequent; white woollen tunics and robes into which are woven bands +of brilliant colour, abound. Often these ape the cut and purple +edge that distinguishes the <i>samurai</i>. In Utopian London the +air is as clear and less dusty than it is among high mountains; the +roads are made of unbroken surfaces, and not of friable earth; all +heating is done by electricity, and no coal ever enters the town; +there are no horses or dogs, and so there is not a suspicion of +smoke and scarcely a particle of any sort of dirt to render white +impossible.</p> + +<p>The radiated influence of the uniform of the <i>samurai</i> has +been to keep costume simple, and this, perhaps, emphasises the +general effect of vigorous health, of shapely bodies. Everyone is +well grown and well nourished; everyone seems in good condition; +everyone walks well, and has that clearness of eye that comes with +cleanness of blood. In London I am apt to consider myself of a +passable size and carriage; here I feel small and mean-looking. The +faint suspicions of spinal curvatures, skew feet, unequal legs, and +ill-grown bones, that haunt one in a London crowd, the plain +intimations—in yellow faces, puffy faces, spotted and irregular +complexions, in nervous movements and coughs and colds—of bad +habits and an incompetent or disregarded medical profession, do not +appear here. I notice few old people, but there seems to be a +greater proportion of men and women at or near the prime of +life.</p> + +<p>I hang upon that. I have seen one or two fat people here—they +are all the more noticeable because they are rare. But wrinkled +age? Have I yet in Utopia set eyes on a bald head?</p> + +<p>The Utopians have brought a sounder physiological science than +ours to bear upon regimen. People know better what to do and what +to avoid, how to foresee and forestall coming trouble, and how to +evade and suppress the subtle poisons that blunt the edge of +sensation. They have put off the years of decay. They keep their +teeth, they keep their digestions, they ward off gout and +rheumatism, neuralgia and influenza and all those cognate decays +that bend and wrinkle men and women in the middle years of +existence. They have extended the level years far into the +seventies, and age, when it comes, comes swiftly and easily. The +feverish hurry of our earth, the decay that begins before growth +has ceased, is replaced by a ripe prolonged maturity. This modern +Utopia is an adult world. The flushed romance, the predominant +eroticisms, the adventurous uncertainty of a world in which youth +prevails, gives place here to a grave deliberation, to a fuller and +more powerful emotion, to a broader handling of life.</p> + +<p>Yet youth is here.</p> + +<p>Amidst the men whose faces have been made fine by thought and +steadfast living, among the serene-eyed women, comes youth, +gaily-coloured, buoyantly healthy, with challenging eyes, with +fresh and eager face....</p> + +<p>For everyone in Utopia who is sane enough to benefit, study and +training last until twenty; then comes the travel year, and many +are still students until twenty-four or twenty-five. Most are +still, in a sense, students throughout life, but it is thought +that, unless responsible action is begun in some form in the early +twenties, will undergoes a partial atrophy. But the full swing of +adult life is hardly attained until thirty is reached. Men marry +before the middle thirties, and the women rather earlier, few are +mothers before five-and-twenty. The majority of those who become +<i>samurai</i> do so between twenty-seven and thirty-five. And, +between seventeen and thirty, the Utopians have their dealings with +love, and the play and excitement of love is a chief interest in +life. Much freedom of act is allowed them so that their wills may +grow freely. For the most part they end mated, and love gives place +to some special and more enduring interest, though, indeed, there +is love between older men and fresh girls, and between youths and +maturer women. It is in these most graceful and beautiful years of +life that such freedoms of dress as the atmosphere of Utopia +permits are to be seen, and the crude bright will and imagination +of youth peeps out in ornament and colour.</p> + +<p>Figures come into my sight and possess me for a moment and pass, +and give place to others; there comes a dusky little Jewess, +red-lipped and amber-clad, with a deep crimson flower—I know not +whether real or sham—in the dull black of her hair. She passes me +with an unconscious disdain; and then I am looking at a +brightly-smiling, blue-eyed girl, tall, ruddy, and freckled warmly, +clad like a stage Rosalind, and talking gaily to a fair young man, +a novice under the Rule. A red-haired mother under the Lesser Rule +goes by, green-gowned, with dark green straps crossing between her +breasts, and her two shock-headed children, bare-legged and lightly +shod, tug at her hands on either side. Then a grave man in a long, +fur-trimmed robe, a merchant, maybe, debates some serious matter +with a white-tunicked clerk. And the clerk's face―? I turn to +mark the straight, blue-black hair. The man must be Chinese....</p> + +<p>Then come two short-bearded men in careless indigo blue raiment, +both of them convulsed with laughter—men outside the Rule, who +practise, perhaps, some art—and then one of the <i>samurai</i>, in +cheerful altercation with a blue-robed girl of eight. “But you +<i>could</i> have come back yesterday, Dadda,” she persists. He is +deeply sunburnt, and suddenly there passes before my mind the +picture of a snowy mountain waste at night-fall and a solitary small +figure under the stars....</p> + +<p>When I come back to the present thing again, my eye is caught at +once by a young negro, carrying books in his hand, a +prosperous-looking, self-respecting young negro, in a trimly-cut +coat of purple-blue and silver.</p> + +<p>I am reminded of what my double said to me of race.</p> + +<h3 align="center">CHAPTER THE TENTH<br> +Race in Utopia</h3> + +<h4 align="center">§ 1</h4> + +<p>Above the sphere of the elemental cravings and necessities, the +soul of man is in a perpetual vacillation between two conflicting +impulses: the desire to assert his individual differences, the +desire for distinction, and his terror of isolation. He wants to +stand out, but not too far out, and, on the contrary, he wants to +merge himself with a group, with some larger body, but not +altogether. Through all the things of life runs this tortuous +compromise, men follow the fashions but resent ready-made uniforms +on every plane of their being. The disposition to form aggregations +and to imagine aggregations is part of the incurable nature of man; +it is one of the great natural forces the statesman must utilise, +and against which he must construct effectual defences. The study +of the aggregations and of the ideals of aggregations about which +men's sympathies will twine, and upon which they will base a large +proportion of their conduct and personal policy, is the legitimate +definition of sociology.</p> + +<p>Now the sort of aggregation to which men and women will refer +themselves is determined partly by the strength and idiosyncrasy of +the individual imagination, and partly by the reek of ideas that +chances to be in the air at the time. Men and women may vary +greatly both in their innate and their acquired disposition towards +this sort of larger body or that, to which their social reference +can be made. The “natural” social reference of a man is probably to +some rather vaguely conceived tribe, as the “natural” social +reference of a dog is to a pack. But just as the social reference +of a dog may be educated until the reference to a pack is +completely replaced by a reference to an owner, so on his higher +plane of educability the social reference of the civilised man +undergoes the most remarkable transformations. But the power and +scope of his imagination and the need he has of response sets +limits to this process. A highly intellectualised mature mind may +refer for its data very consistently to ideas of a higher being so +remote and indefinable as God, so comprehensive as humanity, so +far-reaching as the purpose in things. I write “may,” but I doubt +if this exaltation of reference is ever permanently sustained. +Comte, in his <i>Positive Polity</i>, exposes his soul with great +freedom, and the curious may trace how, while he professes and +quite honestly intends to refer himself always to his “Greater +Being” Humanity, he narrows constantly to his projected “Western +Republic” of civilised men, and quite frequently to the minute +indefinite body of Positivist subscribers. And the history of the +Christian Church, with its development of orders and cults, sects +and dissents, the history of fashionable society with its cliques +and sets and every political history with its cabals and inner +cabinets, witness to the struggle that goes on in the minds of men +to adjust themselves to a body larger indeed than themselves, but +which still does not strain and escape their imaginative grasp.</p> + +<p>The statesman, both for himself and others, must recognise this +inadequacy of grasp, and the necessity for real and imaginary +aggregations to sustain men in their practical service of the order +of the world. He must be a sociologist; he must study the whole +science of aggregations in relation to that World State to which +his reason and his maturest thought direct him. He must lend +himself to the development of aggregatory ideas that favour the +civilising process, and he must do his best to promote the +disintegration of aggregations and the effacement of aggregatory +ideas, that keep men narrow and unreasonably prejudiced one against +another.</p> + +<p>He will, of course, know that few men are even rudely consistent +in such matters, that the same man in different moods and on +different occasions, is capable of referring himself in perfect +good faith, not only to different, but to contradictory larger +beings, and that the more important thing about an aggregatory idea +from the State maker's point of view is not so much what it +explicitly involves as what it implicitly repudiates. The natural +man does not feel he is aggregating at all, unless he aggregates +<i>against</i> something. He refers himself to the tribe; he is +loyal to the tribe, and quite inseparably he fears or dislikes +those others outside the tribe. The tribe is always at least +defensively hostile and usually actively hostile to humanity beyond +the aggregation. The Anti-idea, it would seem, is inseparable from +the aggregatory idea; it is a necessity of the human mind. When we +think of the class A as desirable, we think of Not-A as +undesirable. The two things are as inevitably connected as the +tendons of our hands, so that when we flatten down our little +fingers on our palms, the fourth digit, whether we want it or not, +comes down halfway. All real working gods, one may remark, all gods +that are worshipped emotionally, are tribal gods, and every attempt +to universalise the idea of God trails dualism and the devil after +it as a moral necessity.</p> + +<p>When we inquire, as well as the unformed condition of +terrestrial sociology permits, into the aggregatory ideas that seem +to satisfy men, we find a remarkable complex, a disorderly complex, +in the minds of nearly all our civilised contemporaries. For +example, all sorts of aggregatory ideas come and go across the +chameleon surfaces of my botanist's mind. He has a strong feeling +for systematic botanists as against plant physiologists, whom he +regards as lewd and evil scoundrels in this relation, but he has a +strong feeling for all botanists, and, indeed, all biologists, as +against physicists, and those who profess the exact sciences, all +of whom he regards as dull, mechanical, ugly-minded scoundrels in +this relation; but he has a strong feeling for all who profess what +is called Science as against psychologists, sociologists, +philosophers, and literary men, whom he regards as wild, foolish, +immoral scoundrels in this relation; but he has a strong feeling +for all educated men as against the working man, whom he regards as +a cheating, lying, loafing, drunken, thievish, dirty scoundrel in +this relation; but so soon as the working man is comprehended +together with those others, as Englishmen—which includes, in this +case, I may remark, the Scottish and Welsh—he holds them superior +to all other sorts of European, whom he regards, &c....</p> + +<p>Now one perceives in all these aggregatory ideas and +rearrangements of the sympathies one of the chief vices of human +thought, due to its obsession by classificatory suggestions. +[Footnote: See Chapter the First, § 5, and the Appendix.] The +necessity for marking our classes has brought with it a bias for +false and excessive contrast, and we never invent a term but we are +at once cramming it with implications beyond its legitimate +content. There is no feat of irrelevance that people will not +perform quite easily in this way; there is no class, however +accidental, to which they will not at once ascribe deeply +distinctive qualities. The seventh sons of seventh sons have +remarkable powers of insight; people with a certain sort of ear +commit crimes of violence; people with red hair have souls of fire; +all democratic socialists are trustworthy persons; all people born +in Ireland have vivid imaginations and all Englishmen are clods; +all Hindoos are cowardly liars; all curly-haired people are +good-natured; all hunch-backs are energetic and wicked, and all +Frenchmen eat frogs. Such stupid generalisations have been believed +with the utmost readiness, and acted upon by great numbers of sane, +respectable people. And when the class is one's own class, when it +expresses one of the aggregations to which one refers one's own +activities, then the disposition to divide all qualities between +this class and its converse, and to cram one's own class with every +desirable distinction, becomes overwhelming.</p> + +<p>It is part of the training of the philosopher to regard all such +generalisations with suspicion; it is part of the training of the +Utopist and statesman, and all good statesmen are Utopists, to +mingle something very like animosity with that suspicion. For crude +classifications and false generalisations are the curse of all +organised human life.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 2</h4> + +<p>Disregarding classes, cliques, sets, castes, and the like minor +aggregations, concerned for the most part with details and minor +aspects of life, one finds among the civilised peoples of the world +certain broad types of aggregatory idea. There are, firstly, the +national ideas, ideas which, in their perfection, require a +uniformity of physical and mental type, a common idiom, a common +religion, a distinctive style of costume, decoration, and thought, +and a compact organisation acting with complete external unity. +Like the Gothic cathedral, the national idea is never found +complete with all its parts; but one has in Russia, with her +insistence on political and religious orthodoxy, something +approaching it pretty closely, and again in the inland and typical +provinces of China, where even a strange pattern of hat arouses +hostility. We had it in vigorous struggle to exist in England under +the earlier Georges in the minds of those who supported the +Established Church. The idea of the fundamental nature of +nationality is so ingrained in thought, with all the usual +exaggeration of implication, that no one laughs at talk about +Swedish painting or American literature. And I will confess and +point out that my own detachment from these delusions is so +imperfect and discontinuous that in another passage I have +committed myself to a short assertion of the exceptionally noble +quality of the English imagination. [Footnote: Chapter the Seventh, +§ 6.] I am constantly gratified by flattering untruths about +English superiority which I should reject indignantly were the +application bluntly personal, and I am ever ready to believe the +scenery of England, the poetry of England, even the decoration and +music of England, in some mystic and impregnable way, the best. +This habit of intensifying all class definitions, and particularly +those in which one has a personal interest, is in the very +constitution of man's mind. It is part of the defect of that +instrument. We may watch against it and prevent it doing any great +injustices, or leading us into follies, but to eradicate it is an +altogether different matter. There it is, to be reckoned with, like +the coccyx, the pineal eye, and the vermiform appendix. And a too +consistent attack on it may lead simply to its inversion, to a +vindictively pro-foreigner attitude that is equally unwise.</p> + +<p>The second sort of aggregatory ideas, running very often across +the boundaries of national ideas and in conflict with them, are +religious ideas. In Western Europe true national ideas only emerged +to their present hectic vigour after the shock of the Reformation +had liberated men from the great tradition of a Latin-speaking +Christendom, a tradition the Roman Catholic Church has sustained as +its modification of the old Latin-speaking Imperialism in the rule +of the <i>pontifex maximus</i>. There was, and there remains to +this day, a profound disregard of local dialect and race in the +Roman Catholic tradition, which has made that Church a persistently +disintegrating influence in national life. Equally spacious and +equally regardless of tongues and peoples is the great +Arabic-speaking religion of Mahomet. Both Christendom and Islam are +indeed on their secular sides imperfect realisations of a Utopian +World State. But the secular side was the weaker side of these +cults; they produced no sufficiently great statesmen to realise +their spiritual forces, and it is not in Rome under pontifical +rule, nor in Munster under the Anabaptists, but rather in Thomas +à Kempis and Saint Augustin's City of God that we must seek for +the Utopias of Christianity.</p> + +<p>In the last hundred years a novel development of material +forces, and especially of means of communication, has done very +much to break up the isolations in which nationality perfected its +prejudices and so to render possible the extension and +consolidation of such a world-wide culture as mediæval +Christendom and Islam foreshadowed. The first onset of these +expansive developments has been marked in the world of mind by an +expansion of political ideals—Comte's “Western Republic” (1848) +was the first Utopia that involved the synthesis of numerous +States—by the development of “Imperialisms” in the place of +national policies, and by the search for a basis for wider +political unions in racial traditions and linguistic affinities. +Anglo-Saxonism, Pan-Germanism, and the like are such synthetic +ideas. Until the eighties, the general tendency of progressive +thought was at one with the older Christian tradition which ignored +“race,” and the aim of the expansive liberalism movement, so far as +it had a clear aim, was to Europeanise the world, to extend the +franchise to negroes, put Polynesians into trousers, and train the +teeming myriads of India to appreciate the exquisite lilt of <i>The +Lady of the Lake</i>. There is always some absurdity mixed with +human greatness, and we must not let the fact that the middle +Victorians counted Scott, the suffrage and pantaloons among the +supreme blessings of life, conceal from us the very real nobility +of their dream of England's mission to the world....</p> + +<p>We of this generation have seen a flood of reaction against such +universalism. The great intellectual developments that centre upon +the work of Darwin have exacerbated the realisation that life is a +conflict between superior and inferior types, it has underlined the +idea that specific survival rates are of primary significance in +the world's development, and a swarm of inferior intelligences has +applied to human problems elaborated and exaggerated versions of +these generalisations. These social and political followers of +Darwin have fallen into an obvious confusion between race and +nationality, and into the natural trap of patriotic conceit. The +dissent of the Indian and Colonial governing class to the first +crude applications of liberal propositions in India has found a +voice of unparalleled penetration in Mr. Kipling, whose want of +intellectual deliberation is only equalled by his poietic power. +The search for a basis for a new political synthesis in adaptable +sympathies based on linguistic affinities, was greatly influenced +by Max Müller's unaccountable assumption that language indicated +kindred, and led straight to wildly speculative ethnology, to the +discovery that there was a Keltic race, a Teutonic race, an +Indo-European race, and so forth. A book that has had enormous +influence in this matter, because of its use in teaching, is J. R. +Green's <i>Short History of the English People</i>, with its +grotesque insistence upon Anglo-Saxonism. And just now, the world +is in a sort of delirium about race and the racial struggle. The +Briton forgetting his Defoe, [Footnote: <i>The True-born +Englishman</i>.] the Jew forgetting the very word proselyte, the +German forgetting his anthropometric variations, and the Italian +forgetting everything, are obsessed by the singular purity of their +blood, and the danger of contamination the mere continuance of +other races involves. True to the law that all human aggregation +involves the development of a spirit of opposition to whatever is +external to the aggregation, extraordinary intensifications of +racial definition are going on; the vileness, the inhumanity, the +incompatibility of alien races is being steadily exaggerated. The +natural tendency of every human being towards a stupid conceit in +himself and his kind, a stupid depreciation of all unlikeness, is +traded upon by this bastard science. With the weakening of national +references, and with the pause before reconstruction in religious +belief, these new arbitrary and unsubstantial race prejudices +become daily more formidable. They are shaping policies and +modifying laws, and they will certainly be responsible for a large +proportion of the wars, hardships, and cruelties the immediate +future holds in store for our earth.</p> + +<p>No generalisations about race are too extravagant for the +inflamed credulity of the present time. No attempt is ever made to +distinguish differences in inherent quality—the true racial +differences—from artificial differences due to culture. No lesson +seems ever to be drawn from history of the fluctuating incidence of +the civilising process first upon this race and then upon that. The +politically ascendant peoples of the present phase are understood +to be the superior races, including such types as the Sussex farm +labourer, the Bowery tough, the London hooligan, and the Paris +apache; the races not at present prospering politically, such as +the Egyptians, the Greeks, the Spanish, the Moors, the Chinese, the +Hindoos, the Peruvians, and all uncivilised people are represented +as the inferior races, unfit to associate with the former on terms +of equality, unfit to intermarry with them on any terms, unfit for +any decisive voice in human affairs. In the popular imagination of +Western Europe, the Chinese are becoming bright gamboge in colour, +and unspeakably abominable in every respect; the people who are +black—the people who have fuzzy hair and flattish noses, and no +calves to speak of—are no longer held to be within the pale of +humanity. These superstitions work out along the obvious lines of +the popular logic. The depopulation of the Congo Free State by the +Belgians, the horrible massacres of Chinese by European soldiery +during the Pekin expedition, are condoned as a painful but +necessary part of the civilising process of the world. The +world-wide repudiation of slavery in the nineteenth century was +done against a vast sullen force of ignorant pride, which, +reinvigorated by the new delusions, swings back again to power.</p> + +<p>“Science” is supposed to lend its sanction to race mania, but it +is only “science” as it is understood by very illiterate people +that does anything of the sort—“scientists'” science, in fact. +What science has to tell about “The Races of Man” will be found +compactly set forth by Doctor J. Deinker, in the book published +under that title. [Footnote: See also an excellent paper in the +<i>American Journal of Sociology</i> for March, 1904, <i>The +Psychology of Race Prejudice</i>, by W. I. Thomas.] From that book +one may learn the beginnings of race charity. Save for a few +isolated pools of savage humanity, there is probably no pure race +in the whole world. The great continental populations are all +complex mixtures of numerous and fluctuating types. Even the Jews +present every kind of skull that is supposed to be racially +distinctive, a vast range of complexion—from blackness in Goa, to +extreme fairness in Holland—and a vast mental and physical +diversity. Were the Jews to discontinue all intermarriage with +“other races” henceforth for ever, it would depend upon quite +unknown laws of fecundity, prepotency, and variability, what their +final type would be, or, indeed, whether any particular type would +ever prevail over diversity. And, without going beyond the natives +of the British Isles, one can discover an enormous range of types, +tall and short, straight-haired and curly, fair and dark, supremely +intelligent and unteachably stupid, straightforward, disingenuous, +and what not. The natural tendency is to forget all this range +directly “race” comes under discussion, to take either an average +or some quite arbitrary ideal as the type, and think only of that. +The more difficult thing to do, but the thing that must be done if +we are to get just results in this discussion, is to do one's best +to bear the range in mind.</p> + +<p>Let us admit that the average Chinaman is probably different in +complexion, and, indeed, in all his physical and psychical +proportions, from the average Englishman. Does that render their +association upon terms of equality in a World State impossible? +What the average Chinaman or Englishman may be, is of no importance +whatever to our plan of a World State. It is not averages that +exist, but individuals. The average Chinaman will never meet the +average Englishman anywhere; only individual Chinamen will meet +individual Englishmen. Now among Chinamen will be found a range of +variety as extensive as among Englishmen, and there is no single +trait presented by all Chinamen and no Englishman, or <i>vice +versa</i>. Even the oblique eye is not universal in China, and +there are probably many Chinamen who might have been “changed at +birth,” taken away and educated into quite passable Englishmen. +Even after we have separated out and allowed for the differences in +carriage, physique, moral prepossessions, and so forth, due to +their entirely divergent cultures, there remains, no doubt, a very +great difference between the average Chinaman and the average +Englishman; but would that amount to a wider difference than is to +be found between extreme types of Englishmen?</p> + +<p>For my own part I do not think that it would. But it is evident +that any precise answer can be made only when anthropology has +adopted much more exact and exhaustive methods of inquiry, and a +far more precise analysis than its present resources permit.</p> + +<p>Be it remembered how doubtful and tainted is the bulk of our +evidence in these matters. These are extraordinarily subtle +inquiries, from which few men succeed in disentangling the threads +of their personal associations—the curiously interwoven strands of +self-love and self-interest that affect their inquiries. One might +almost say that instinct fights against such investigations, as it +does undoubtedly against many necessary medical researches. But +while a long special training, a high tradition and the possibility +of reward and distinction, enable the medical student to face many +tasks that are at once undignified and physically repulsive, the +people from whom we get our anthropological information are rarely +men of more than average intelligence, and of no mental training at +all. And the problems are far more elusive. It surely needs at +least the gifts and training of a first-class novelist, combined +with a sedulous patience that probably cannot be hoped for in +combination with these, to gauge the all-round differences between +man and man. Even where there are no barriers of language and +colour, understanding may be nearly impossible. How few educated +people seem to understand the servant class in England, or the +working men! Except for Mr. Bart Kennedy's <i>A Man Adrift</i>, I +know of scarcely any book that shows a really sympathetic and +living understanding of the navvy, the longshore sailor man, the +rough chap of our own race. Caricatures, luridly tragic or gaily +comic, in which the misconceptions of the author blend with the +preconceptions of the reader and achieve success, are, of course, +common enough. And then consider the sort of people who pronounce +judgments on the moral and intellectual capacity of the negro, the +Malay, or the Chinaman. You have missionaries, native +schoolmasters, employers of coolies, traders, simple downright men, +who scarcely suspect the existence of any sources of error in their +verdicts, who are incapable of understanding the difference between +what is innate and what is acquired, much less of distinguishing +them in their interplay. Now and then one seems to have a glimpse +of something really living—in Mary Kingsley's buoyant work, for +instance—and even that may be no more than my illusion.</p> + +<p>For my own part I am disposed to discount all adverse judgments +and all statements of insurmountable differences between race and +race. I talk upon racial qualities to all men who have had +opportunities of close observation, and I find that their +insistence upon these differences is usually in inverse proportion +to their intelligence. It may be the chance of my encounters, but +that is my clear impression. Common sailors will generalise in the +profoundest way about Irishmen, and Scotchmen, and Yankees, and +Nova Scotians, and “Dutchies,” until one might think one talked of +different species of animal, but the educated explorer flings clear +of all these delusions. To him men present themselves +individualised, and if they classify it is by some skin-deep +accident of tint, some trick of the tongue, or habit of gesture, or +such-like superficiality. And after all there exists to-day +available one kind at least of unbiassed anthropological evidence. +There are photographs. Let the reader turn over the pages of some +such copiously illustrated work as <i>The Living Races of +Mankind</i>, [Footnote: <i>The Living Races of Mankind</i>, by H. +N. Hutchinson, J. W. Gregory, and R. Lydekker. (Hutchinson.)] and +look into the eyes of one alien face after another. Are they not +very like the people one knows? For the most part, one finds it +hard to believe that, with a common language and common social +traditions, one would not get on very well with these people. Here +or there is a brutish or evil face, but you can find as brutish and +evil in the Strand on any afternoon. There are differences no +doubt, but fundamental incompatibilities—<i>no!</i> And very many +of them send out a ray of special resemblance and remind one more +strongly of this friend or that, than they do of their own kind. +One notes with surprise that one's good friend and neighbour X and +an anonymous naked Gold Coast negro belong to one type, as +distinguished from one's dear friend Y and a beaming individual +from Somaliland, who as certainly belong to another.</p> + +<p>In one matter the careless and prejudiced nature of accepted +racial generalisations is particularly marked. A great and +increasing number of people are persuaded that “half-breeds” are +peculiarly evil creatures—as hunchbacks and bastards were supposed +to be in the middle ages. The full legend of the wickedness of the +half-breed is best to be learnt from a drunken mean white from +Virginia or the Cape. The half-breed, one hears, combines all the +vices of either parent, he is wretchedly poor in health and spirit, +but vindictive, powerful, and dangerous to an extreme degree, his +morals—the mean white has high and exacting standards—are +indescribable even in whispers in a saloon, and so on, and so on. +There is really not an atom of evidence an unprejudiced mind would +accept to sustain any belief of the sort. There is nothing to show +that the children of racial admixture are, as a class, inherently +either better or worse in any respect than either parent. There is +an equally baseless theory that they are better, a theory displayed +to a fine degree of foolishness in the article on Shakespeare in +the <i>Encyclopædia Britannica</i>. Both theories belong to the +vast edifice of sham science that smothers the realities of modern +knowledge. It may be that most “half-breeds” are failures in life, +but that proves nothing. They are, in an enormous number of cases, +illegitimate and outcast from the normal education of either race; +they are brought up in homes that are the battle-grounds of +conflicting cultures; they labour under a heavy premium of +disadvantage. There is, of course, a passing suggestion of Darwin's +to account for atavism that might go to support the theory of the +vileness of half-breeds, if it had ever been proved. But, then, it +never has been proved. There is no proof in the matter at all.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 3</h4> + +<p>Suppose, now, there is such a thing as an all-round inferior +race. Is that any reason why we should propose to preserve it for +ever in a condition of tutelage? Whether there is a race so +inferior I do not know, but certainly there is no race so superior +as to be trusted with human charges. The true answer to Aristotle's +plea for slavery, that there are “natural slaves,” lies in the fact +that there are no “natural” masters. Power is no more to be +committed to men without discipline and restriction than alcohol. +The true objection to slavery is not that it is unjust to the +inferior but that it corrupts the superior. There is only one sane +and logical thing to be done with a really inferior race, and that +is to exterminate it.</p> + +<p>Now there are various ways of exterminating a race, and most of +them are cruel. You may end it with fire and sword after the old +Hebrew fashion; you may enslave it and work it to death, as the +Spaniards did the Caribs; you may set it boundaries and then poison +it slowly with deleterious commodities, as the Americans do with +most of their Indians; you may incite it to wear clothing to which +it is not accustomed and to live under new and strange conditions +that will expose it to infectious diseases to which you yourselves +are immune, as the missionaries do the Polynesians; you may resort +to honest simple murder, as we English did with the Tasmanians; or +you can maintain such conditions as conduce to “race suicide,” as +the British administration does in Fiji. Suppose, then, for a +moment, that there is an all-round inferior race; a Modern Utopia +is under the hard logic of life, and it would have to exterminate +such a race as quickly as it could. On the whole, the Fijian device +seems the least cruel. But Utopia would do that without any +clumsiness of race distinction, in exactly the same manner, and by +the same machinery, as it exterminates all its own defective and +inferior strains; that is to say, as we have already discussed in +Chapter the Fifth, § 1, by its marriage laws, and by the laws of +the minimum wage. That extinction need never be discriminatory. If +any of the race did, after all, prove to be fit to survive, they +would survive—they would be picked out with a sure and automatic +justice from the over-ready condemnation of all their kind.</p> + +<p>Is there, however, an all-round inferior race in the world? Even +the Australian black-fellow is, perhaps, not quite so entirely +eligible for extinction as a good, wholesome, horse-racing, +sheep-farming Australian white may think. These queer little races, +the black-fellows, the Pigmies, the Bushmen, may have their little +gifts, a greater keenness, a greater fineness of this sense or +that, a quaintness of the imagination or what not, that may serve +as their little unique addition to the totality of our Utopian +civilisation. We are supposing that every individual alive on earth +is alive in Utopia, and so all the surviving “black-fellows” are +there. Every one of them in Utopia has had what none have had on +earth, a fair education and fair treatment, justice, and +opportunity. Suppose that the common idea is right about the +general inferiority of these people, then it would follow that in +Utopia most of them are childless, and working at or about the +minimum wage, and some will have passed out of all possibility of +offspring under the hand of the offended law; but still—cannot we +imagine some few of these little people—whom you must suppose +neither naked nor clothed in the European style, but robed in the +Utopian fashion—may have found some delicate art to practise, some +peculiar sort of carving, for example, that justifies God in +creating them? Utopia has sound sanitary laws, sound social laws, +sound economic laws; what harm are these people going to do?</p> + +<p>Some may be even prosperous and admired, may have married women +of their own or some other race, and so may be transmitting that +distinctive thin thread of excellence, to take its due place in the +great synthesis of the future.</p> + +<p>And, indeed, coming along that terrace in Utopia, I see a little +figure, a little bright-eyed, bearded man, inky black, frizzy +haired, and clad in a white tunic and black hose, and with a mantle +of lemon yellow wrapped about his shoulders. He walks, as most +Utopians walk, as though he had reason to be proud of something, as +though he had no reason to be afraid of anything in the world. He +carries a portfolio in his hand. It is that, I suppose, as much as +his hair, that recalls the <i>Quartier Latin</i> to my mind.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 4</h4> + +<p>I had already discussed the question of race with the botanist +at Lucerne.</p> + +<p>“But you would not like,” he cried in horror, “your daughter to +marry a Chinaman or a negro?”</p> + +<p>“Of course,” said I, “when you say Chinaman, you think of a +creature with a pigtail, long nails, and insanitary habits, and +when you say negro you think of a filthy-headed, black creature in +an old hat. You do this because your imagination is too feeble to +disentangle the inherent qualities of a thing from its habitual +associations.”</p> + +<p>“Insult isn't argument,” said the botanist.</p> + +<p>“Neither is unsound implication. You make a question of race +into a question of unequal cultures. You would not like your +daughter to marry the sort of negro who steals hens, but then you +would also not like your daughter to marry a pure English hunchback +with a squint, or a drunken cab tout of Norman blood. As a matter +of fact, very few well-bred English girls do commit that sort of +indiscretion. But you don't think it necessary to generalise +against men of your own race because there are drunken cab touts, +and why should you generalise against negroes? Because the +proportion of undesirables is higher among negroes, that does not +justify a sweeping condemnation. You may have to condemn most, but +why <i>all</i>? There may be—neither of us knows enough to +deny—negroes who are handsome, capable, courageous.”</p> + +<p>“Ugh!” said the botanist.</p> + +<p>“How detestable you must find Othello!”</p> + +<p>It is my Utopia, and for a moment I could almost find it in my +heart to spite the botanist by creating a modern Desdemona and her +lover sooty black to the lips, there before our eyes. But I am not +so sure of my case as that, and for the moment there shall come +nothing more than a swart-faced, dusky Burmese woman in the dress +of the Greater Rule, with her tall Englishman (as he might be on +earth) at her side. That, however, is a digression from my +conversation with the botanist.</p> + +<p>“And the Chinaman?” said the botanist.</p> + +<p>“I think we shall have all the buff and yellow peoples +intermingling pretty freely.”</p> + +<p>“Chinamen and white women, for example.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I said, “you've got to swallow that, anyhow; you +<i>shall</i> swallow that.”</p> + +<p>He finds the idea too revolting for comment.</p> + +<p>I try and make the thing seem easier for him. “Do try,” I said, +“to grasp a Modern Utopian's conditions. The Chinaman will speak +the same language as his wife—whatever her race may be—he will +wear costume of the common civilised fashion, he will have much the +same education as his European rival, read the same literature, bow +to the same traditions. And you must remember a wife in Utopia is +singularly not subject to her husband....”</p> + +<p>The botanist proclaims his invincible conclusion: “Everyone +would cut her!”</p> + +<p>“This is Utopia,” I said, and then sought once more to +tranquillise his mind. “No doubt among the vulgar, coarse-minded +people outside the Rule there may be something of the sort. Every +earthly moral blockhead, a little educated, perhaps, is to be found +in Utopia. You will, no doubt, find the ‘cut’ and the ‘boycott,’ +and all those nice little devices by which dull people get a keen +edge on life, in their place here, and their place here is +somewhere―”</p> + +<p>I turned a thumb earthward. “There!”</p> + +<p>The botanist did not answer for a little while. Then he said, +with some temper and great emphasis: “Well, I'm jolly glad anyhow +that I'm not to be a permanent resident in this Utopia, <i>if our +daughters are to be married to Hottentots by regulation</i>. I'm +jolly glad.”</p> + +<p>He turned his back on me.</p> + +<p>Now did I say anything of the sort?...</p> + +<p>I had to bring him, I suppose; there's no getting away from him +in this life. But, as I have already observed, the happy ancients +went to their Utopias without this sort of company.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 5</h4> + +<p>What gives the botanist so great an advantage in all his +Anti-Utopian utterances is his unconsciousness of his own +limitations. He thinks in little pieces that lie about loose, and +nothing has any necessary link with anything else in his mind. So +that I cannot retort upon him by asking him, if he objects to this +synthesis of all nations, tongues and peoples in a World State, +what alternative ideal he proposes.</p> + +<p>People of this sort do not even feel the need of alternatives. +Beyond the scope of a few personal projects, meeting Her again, and +things like that, they do not feel that there is a future. They are +unencumbered by any baggage of convictions whatever, in relation to +that. That, at least, is the only way in which I can explain our +friend's high intellectual mobility. Attempts to correlate +statesmanship, which they regard with interest as a dramatic +interplay of personalities, with any secular movement of humanity, +they class with the differential calculus and Darwinism, as things +far too difficult to be anything but finally and subtly wrong.</p> + +<p>So the argument must pass into a direct address to the +reader.</p> + +<p>If you are not prepared to regard a world-wide synthesis of all +cultures and polities and races into one World State as the +desirable end upon which all civilising efforts converge, what do +you regard as the desirable end? Synthesis, one may remark in +passing, does not necessarily mean fusion, nor does it mean +uniformity.</p> + +<p>The alternatives fall roughly under three headings. The first is +to assume there is a best race, to define as well as one can that +best race, and to regard all other races as material for +extermination. This has a fine, modern, biological air (“Survival +of the Fittest”). If you are one of those queer German professors +who write insanity about Welt-Politik, you assume the best race is +the “Teutonic”; Cecil Rhodes affected that triumph of creative +imagination, the “Anglo-Saxon race”; my friend, Moses Cohen, thinks +there is much to be said for the Jew. On its premises, this is a +perfectly sound and reasonable policy, and it opens out a brilliant +prospect for the scientific inventor for what one might call +Welt-Apparat in the future, for national harrowing and reaping +machines, and race-destroying fumigations. The great plain of China +(“Yellow Peril”) lends itself particularly to some striking +wholesale undertaking; it might, for example, be flooded for a few +days, and then disinfected with volcanic chlorine. Whether, when +all the inferior races have been stamped out, the superior race +would not proceed at once, or after a brief millennial period of +social harmony, to divide itself into sub-classes, and begin the +business over again at a higher level, is an interesting residual +question into which we need not now penetrate.</p> + +<p>That complete development of a scientific Welt-Politik is not, +however, very widely advocated at present, no doubt from a want of +confidence in the public imagination. We have, however, a very +audible and influential school, the Modern Imperialist school, +which distinguishes its own race—there is a German, a British, and +an Anglo-Saxon section in the school, and a wider teaching which +embraces the whole “white race” in one remarkable tolerance—as the +superior race, as one, indeed, superior enough to own slaves, +collectively, if not individually; and the exponents of this +doctrine look with a resolute, truculent, but slightly indistinct +eye to a future in which all the rest of the world will be in +subjection to these elect. The ideals of this type are set forth +pretty clearly in Mr. Kidd's <i>Control of the Tropics</i>. The +whole world is to be administered by the “white” Powers—Mr. Kidd +did not anticipate Japan—who will see to it that their subjects do +not “prevent the utilisation of the immense natural resources which +they have in charge.” Those other races are to be regarded as +children, recalcitrant children at times, and without any of the +tender emotions of paternity. It is a little doubtful whether the +races lacking “in the elementary qualities of social efficiency” +are expected to acquire them under the chastening hands of those +races which, through “strength and energy of character, humanity, +probity, and integrity, and a single-minded devotion to conceptions +of duty,” are developing “the resources of the richest regions of +the earth” over their heads, or whether this is the ultimate +ideal.</p> + +<p>Next comes the rather incoherent alternative that one associates +in England with official Liberalism.</p> + +<p>Liberalism in England is not quite the same thing as Liberalism +in the rest of the world; it is woven of two strands. There is +Whiggism, the powerful tradition of seventeenth-century Protestant +and republican England, with its great debt to republican Rome, its +strong constructive and disciplinary bias, its broad and originally +very living and intelligent outlook; and interwoven with this there +is the sentimental and logical Liberalism that sprang from the +stresses of the eighteenth century, that finds its early scarce +differentiated expression in Harrington's <i>Oceana</i>, and after +fresh draughts of the tradition of Brutus and Cato and some elegant +trifling with noble savages, budded in <i>La Cité +Morellyste</i>, flowered in the emotional democratic naturalism of +Rousseau, and bore abundant fruit in the French Revolution. These +are two very distinct strands. Directly they were freed in America +from the grip of conflict with British Toryism, they came apart as +the Republican and Democratic parties respectively. Their continued +union in Great Britain is a political accident. Because of this +mixture, the whole career of English-speaking Liberalism, though it +has gone to one unbroken strain of eloquence, has never produced a +clear statement of policy in relation to other peoples politically +less fortunate. It has developed no definite ideas at all about the +future of mankind. The Whig disposition, which once had some play +in India, was certainly to attempt to anglicise the “native,” to +assimilate his culture, and then to assimilate his political status +with that of his temporary ruler. But interwoven with this +anglicising tendency, which was also, by the bye, a Christianising +tendency, was a strong disposition, derived from the Rousseau +strand, to leave other peoples alone, to facilitate even the +separation and autonomy of detached portions of our own peoples, to +disintegrate finally into perfect, because lawless, individuals. +The official exposition of British “Liberalism” to-day still +wriggles unstably because of these conflicting constituents, but on +the whole the Whig strand now seems the weaker. The contemporary +Liberal politician offers cogent criticism upon the brutality and +conceit of modern imperialisms, but that seems to be the limit of +his service. Taking what they do not say and do not propose as an +indication of Liberal intentions, it would seem that the ideal of +the British Liberals and of the American Democrats is to favour the +existence of just as many petty, loosely allied, or quite +independent nationalities as possible, just as many languages as +possible, to deprecate armies and all controls, and to trust to the +innate goodness of disorder and the powers of an ardent +sentimentality to keep the world clean and sweet. The Liberals will +not face the plain consequence that such a state of affairs is +hopelessly unstable, that it involves the maximum risk of war with +the minimum of permanent benefit and public order. They will not +reflect that the stars in their courses rule inexorably against it. +It is a vague, impossible ideal, with a rude sort of unworldly +moral beauty, like the gospel of the Doukhobors. Besides that charm +it has this most seductive quality to an official British Liberal, +that it does not exact intellectual activity nor indeed activity of +any sort whatever. It is, by virtue of that alone, a far less +mischievous doctrine than the crude and violent Imperialism of the +popular Press.</p> + +<p>Neither of these two schools of policy, neither the +international <i>laisser faire</i> of the Liberals, nor “hustle to +the top” Imperialism, promise any reality of permanent progress for +the world of men. They are the resort, the moral reference, of +those who will not think frankly and exhaustively over the whole +field of this question. Do that, insist upon solutions of more than +accidental applicability, and you emerge with one or other of two +contrasted solutions, as the consciousness of kind or the +consciousness of individuality prevails in your mind. In the former +case you will adopt aggressive Imperialism, but you will carry it +out to its “thorough” degree of extermination. You will seek to +develop the culture and power of your kind of men and women to the +utmost in order to shoulder all other kinds from the earth. If on +the other hand you appreciate the unique, you will aim at such a +synthesis as this Utopia displays, a synthesis far more credible +and possible than any other Welt-Politik. In spite of all the +pageant of modern war, synthesis is in the trend of the world. To +aid and develop it, could be made the open and secure policy of any +great modern empire now. Modern war, modern international hostility +is, I believe, possible only through the stupid illiteracy of the +mass of men and the conceit and intellectual indolence of rulers +and those who feed the public mind. Were the will of the mass of +men lit and conscious, I am firmly convinced it would now burn +steadily for synthesis and peace.</p> + +<p>It would be so easy to bring about a world peace within a few +decades, was there but the will for it among men! The great empires +that exist need but a little speech and frankness one with another. +Within, the riddles of social order are already half solved in +books and thought, there are the common people and the subject +peoples to be educated and drilled, to be led to a common speech +and a common literature, to be assimilated and made citizens; +without, there is the possibility of treaties. Why, for example, +should Britain and France, or either and the United States, or +Sweden and Norway, or Holland, or Denmark, or Italy, fight any more +for ever? And if there is no reason, how foolish and dangerous it +is still to sustain linguistic differences and custom houses, and +all sorts of foolish and irritating distinctions between their +various citizens! Why should not all these peoples agree to teach +some common language, French, for example, in their common schools, +or to teach each other's languages reciprocally? Why should they +not aim at a common literature, and bring their various common +laws, their marriage laws, and so on, into uniformity? Why should +they not work for a uniform minimum of labour conditions through +all their communities? Why, then, should they not—except in the +interests of a few rascal plutocrats—trade freely and exchange +their citizenship freely throughout their common boundaries? No +doubt there are difficulties to be found, but they are quite finite +difficulties. What is there to prevent a parallel movement of all +the civilised Powers in the world towards a common ideal and +assimilation?</p> + +<p>Stupidity—nothing but stupidity, a stupid brute jealousy, +aimless and unjustifiable.</p> + +<p>The coarser conceptions of aggregation are at hand, the hostile, +jealous patriotisms, the blare of trumpets and the pride of fools; +they serve the daily need though they lead towards disaster. The +real and the immediate has us in its grip, the accidental personal +thing. The little effort of thought, the brief sustained effort of +will, is too much for the contemporary mind. Such treaties, such +sympathetic international movements, are but dream stuff yet on +earth, though Utopia has realised them long since and already +passed them by.</p> + +<h3 align="center">CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH<br> +The Bubble Bursts</h3> + +<h4 align="center">§ 1</h4> + +<p>As I walk back along the river terrace to the hotel where the +botanist awaits me, and observe the Utopians I encounter, I have no +thought that my tenure of Utopia becomes every moment more +precarious. There float in my mind vague anticipations of more +talks with my double and still more, of a steady elaboration of +detail, of interesting journeys of exploration. I forget that a +Utopia is a thing of the imagination that becomes more fragile with +every added circumstance, that, like a soap-bubble, it is most +brilliantly and variously coloured at the very instant of its +dissolution. This Utopia is nearly done. All the broad lines of its +social organisation are completed now, the discussion of all its +general difficulties and problems. Utopian individuals pass me by, +fine buildings tower on either hand; it does not occur to me that I +may look too closely. To find the people assuming the concrete and +individual, is not, as I fondly imagine, the last triumph of +realisation, but the swimming moment of opacity before the film +gives way. To come to individual emotional cases, is to return to +the earth.</p> + +<p>I find the botanist sitting at a table in the hotel +courtyard.</p> + +<p>“Well?” I say, standing before him.</p> + +<p>“I've been in the gardens on the river terrace,” he answers, +“hoping I might see her again.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing better to do?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing in the world.”</p> + +<p>“You'll have your double back from India to-morrow. Then you'll +have conversation.”</p> + +<p>“I don't want it,” he replies, compactly.</p> + +<p>I shrug my shoulders, and he adds, “At least with him.”</p> + +<p>I let myself down into a seat beside him.</p> + +<p>For a time I sit restfully enjoying his companionable silence, +and thinking fragmentarily of those <i>samurai</i> and their Rules. +I entertain something of the satisfaction of a man who has finished +building a bridge; I feel that I have joined together things that I +had never joined before. My Utopia seems real to me, very real, I +can believe in it, until the metal chair-back gives to my shoulder +blades, and Utopian sparrows twitter and hop before my feet. I have +a pleasant moment of unhesitating self-satisfaction; I feel a +shameless exultation to be there. For a moment I forget the +consideration the botanist demands; the mere pleasure of +completeness, of holding and controlling all the threads possesses +me.</p> + +<p>“You <i>will</i> persist in believing,” I say, with an +aggressive expository note, “that if you meet this lady she will be +a person with the memories and sentiments of her double on earth. +You think she will understand and pity, and perhaps love you. +Nothing of the sort is the case.” I repeat with confident rudeness, +“Nothing of the sort is the case. Things are different altogether +here; you can hardly tell even now how different are―”</p> + +<p>I discover he is not listening to me.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter?” I ask abruptly.</p> + +<p>He makes no answer, but his expression startles me.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter?” and then I follow his eyes.</p> + +<p>A woman and a man are coming through the great archway—and +instantly I guess what has happened. She it is arrests my attention +first—long ago I knew she was a sweetly beautiful woman. She is +fair, with frank blue eyes, that look with a sort of tender +receptivity into her companion's face. For a moment or so they +remain, greyish figures in the cool shadow, against the sunlit +greenery of the gardens beyond.</p> + +<p>“It is Mary,” the botanist whispers with white lips, but he +stares at the form of the man. His face whitens, it becomes so +transfigured with emotion that for a moment it does not look weak. +Then I see that his thin hand is clenched.</p> + +<p>I realise how little I understand his emotions.</p> + +<p>A sudden fear of what he will do takes hold of me. He sits white +and tense as the two come into the clearer light of the courtyard. +The man, I see, is one of the <i>samurai</i>, a dark, strong-faced +man, a man I have never seen before, and she is wearing the robe +that shows her a follower of the Lesser Rule.</p> + +<p>Some glimmering of the botanist's feelings strikes through to my +slow sympathies. Of course—a strange man! I put out a restraining +hand towards his arm. “I told you,” I say, “that very probably, +most probably, she would have met some other. I tried to prepare +you.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense,” he whispers, without looking at me. “It isn't that. +It's—that scoundrel―”</p> + +<p>He has an impulse to rise. “That scoundrel,” he repeats.</p> + +<p>“He isn't a scoundrel,” I say. “How do you know? Keep still! Why +are you standing up?”</p> + +<p>He and I stand up quickly, I as soon as he. But now the full +meaning of the group has reached me. I grip his arm. “Be sensible,” +I say, speaking very quickly, and with my back to the approaching +couple. “He's not a scoundrel here. This world is different from +that. It's caught his pride somehow and made a man of him. Whatever +troubled them there―”</p> + +<p>He turns a face of white wrath on me, of accusation, and for the +moment of unexpected force. “This is <i>your</i> doing,” he says. +“You have done this to mock me. He—of all men!” For a moment +speech fails him, then; “You—you have done this to mock me.”</p> + +<p>I try to explain very quickly. My tone is almost +propitiatory.</p> + +<p>“I never thought of it until now. But he's― How did I know he +was the sort of man a disciplined world has a use for?”</p> + +<p>He makes no answer, but he looks at me with eyes that are +positively baleful, and in the instant I read his mute but mulish +resolve that Utopia must end.</p> + +<p>“Don't let that old quarrel poison all this,” I say almost +entreatingly. “It happened all differently here—everything is +different here. Your double will be back to-morrow. Wait for him. +Perhaps then you will understand―”</p> + +<p>He shakes his head, and then bursts out with, “What do I want +with a double? Double! What do I care if things have been different +here? This―”</p> + +<p>He thrusts me weakly back with his long, white hand. “My God!” +he says almost forcibly, “what nonsense all this is! All these +dreams! All Utopias! There she is―! Oh, but I have dreamt of +her! And now―”</p> + +<p>A sob catches him. I am really frightened by this time. I still +try to keep between him and these Utopians, and to hide his +gestures from them.</p> + +<p>“It's different here,” I persist. “It's different here. The +emotion you feel has no place in it. It's a scar from the +earth—the sore scar of your past―”</p> + +<p>“And what are we all but scars? What is life but a scarring? +It's <i>you</i>—you who don't understand! Of course we are covered +with scars, we live to be scarred, we are scars! We are the scars +of the past! These <i>dreams</i>, these childish dreams―!”</p> + +<p>He does not need to finish his sentence, he waves an unteachable +destructive arm.</p> + +<p>My Utopia rocks about me.</p> + +<p>For a moment the vision of that great courtyard hangs real. +There the Utopians live real about me, going to and fro, and the +great archway blazes with sunlight from the green gardens by the +riverside. The man who is one of the <i>samurai</i>, and his lady, +whom the botanist loved on earth, pass out of sight behind the +marble flower-set Triton that spouts coolness in the middle of the +place. For a moment I see two working men in green tunics sitting +on a marble seat in the shadow of the colonnade, and a sweet little +silver-haired old lady, clad all in violet, and carrying a book, +comes towards us, and lifts a curious eye at the botanist's +gestures. And then―</p> + +<p>“Scars of the past! Scars of the past! These fanciful, useless +dreams!”</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 2</h4> + +<p>There is no jerk, no sound, no hint of material shock. We are in +London, and clothed in the fashion of the town. The sullen roar of +London fills our ears....</p> + +<p>I see that I am standing beside an iron seat of poor design in +that grey and gawky waste of asphalte—Trafalgar Square, and the +botanist, with perplexity in his face, stares from me to a poor, +shrivelled, dirt-lined old woman—my God! what a neglected thing +she is!—who proffers a box of matches....</p> + +<p>He buys almost mechanically, and turns back to me.</p> + +<p>“I was saying,” he says, “the past rules us absolutely. These +dreams―”</p> + +<p>His sentence does not complete itself. He looks nervous and +irritated.</p> + +<p>“You have a trick at times,” he says instead, “of making your +suggestions so vivid―”</p> + +<p>He takes a plunge. “If you don't mind,” he says in a sort of +quavering ultimatum, “we won't discuss that aspect of the +question—the lady, I mean—further.”</p> + +<p>He pauses, and there still hangs a faint perplexity between +us.</p> + +<p>“But―” I begin.</p> + +<p>For a moment we stand there, and my dream of Utopia runs off me +like water from an oiled slab. Of course—we lunched at our club. +We came back from Switzerland by no dream train but by the ordinary +Bâle express. We have been talking of that Lucerne woman he +harps upon, and I have made some novel comment on his story. I have +touched certain possibilities.</p> + +<p>“You can't conceivably understand,” he says.</p> + +<p>“The fact remains,” he goes on, taking up the thread of his +argument again with an air of having defined our field, “we are the +scars of the past. That's a thing one can discuss—without +personalities.”</p> + +<p>“No,” I say rather stupidly, “no.”</p> + +<p>“You are always talking as though you could kick the past to +pieces; as though one could get right out from oneself and begin +afresh. It is your weakness—if you don't mind my being frank—it +makes you seem harsh and dogmatic. Life has gone easily for you; +you have never been badly tried. You have been lucky—you do not +understand the other way about. You are—hard.”</p> + +<p>I answer nothing.</p> + +<p>He pants for breath. I perceive that in our discussion of his +case I must have gone too far, and that he has rebelled. Clearly I +must have said something wounding about that ineffectual love story +of his.</p> + +<p>“You don't allow for my position,” he says, and it occurs to me +to say, “I'm obliged to look at the thing from my own point of +view....”</p> + +<p>One or other of us makes a move. What a lot of filthy, torn +paper is scattered about the world! We walk slowly side by side +towards the dirt-littered basin of the fountain, and stand +regarding two grimy tramps who sit and argue on a further seat. One +holds a horrible old boot in his hand, and gesticulates with it, +while his other hand caresses his rag-wrapped foot. “Wot does +Cham'lain <i>si</i>?” his words drift to us. “W'y, 'e says, wot's +the good of 'nvesting your kepital where these 'ere Americans may +dump it flat any time they like....”</p> + +<p>(Were there not two men in green sitting on a marble seat?)</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 3</h4> + +<p>We walk on, our talk suspended, past a ruthlessly clumsy +hoarding, towards where men and women and children are struggling +about a string of omnibuses. A newsvendor at the corner spreads a +newspaper placard upon the wood pavement, pins the corners down +with stones, and we glimpse something about:—</p> + +<div align="center"> +MASSACRE IN ODESSA.<br> +DISCOVERY OF HUMAN REMAINS AT CHERTSEY.<br> +<FONT SIZE="+1">SHOCKING LYNCHING OUTRAGE IN NEW YORK STATE.</FONT><br> +GERMAN INTRIGUES GET A SET-BACK.<br> +THE BIRTHDAY HONOURS.—FULL LIST.<br> +</div> + +<p>Dear old familiar world!</p> + +<p>An angry parent in conversation with a sympathetic friend +jostles against us. “I'll knock his blooming young 'ed orf if 'e +cheeks me again. It's these 'ere brasted Board Schools―”</p> + +<p>An omnibus passes, bearing on a board beneath an incorrectly +drawn Union Jack an exhortation to the true patriot to “Buy +Bumper's British-Boiled Jam.”...</p> + +<p>I am stunned beyond the possibility of discussion for a space. +In this very place it must have been that the high terrace ran with +the gardens below it, along which I came from my double to our +hotel. I am going back, but now through reality, along the path I +passed so happily in my dream. And the people I saw then are the +people I am looking at now—with a difference.</p> + +<p>The botanist walks beside me, white and nervously jerky in his +movements, his ultimatum delivered.</p> + +<p>We start to cross the road. An open carriage drives by, and we +see a jaded, red-haired woman, smeared with paint, dressed in furs, +and petulantly discontented. Her face is familiar to me, her face, +with a difference.</p> + +<p>Why do I think of her as dressed in green?</p> + +<p>Of course!—she it was I saw leading her children by the +hand!</p> + +<p>Comes a crash to our left, and a running of people to see a +cab-horse down on the slippery, slanting pavement outside St. +Martin's Church.</p> + +<p>We go on up the street.</p> + +<p>A heavy-eyed young Jewess, a draggled prostitute—no crimson +flower for her hair, poor girl!—regards us with a momentary +speculation, and we get a whiff of foul language from two newsboys +on the kerb.</p> + +<p>“We can't go on talking,” the botanist begins, and ducks aside +just in time to save his eye from the ferule of a stupidly held +umbrella. He is going to treat our little tiff about that lady as +closed. He has the air of picking up our conversation again at some +earlier point.</p> + +<p>He steps into the gutter, walks round outside a negro hawker, +just escapes the wheel of a hansom, and comes to my side again.</p> + +<p>“We can't go on talking of your Utopia,” he says, “in a noise +and crowd like this.”</p> + +<p>We are separated by a portly man going in the opposite +direction, and join again. “We can't go on talking of Utopia,” he +repeats, “in London.... Up in the mountains—and holiday-time—it +was all right. We let ourselves go!”</p> + +<p>“I've been living in Utopia,” I answer, tacitly adopting his +tacit proposal to drop the lady out of the question.</p> + +<p>“At times,” he says, with a queer laugh, “you've almost made me +live there too.”</p> + +<p>He reflects. “It doesn't do, you know. <i>No!</i> And I don't +know whether, after all, I want―”</p> + +<p>We are separated again by half-a-dozen lifted flagstones, a +burning brazier, and two engineers concerned with some underground +business or other—in the busiest hour of the day's traffic.</p> + +<p>“Why shouldn't it do?” I ask.</p> + +<p>“It spoils the world of everyday to let your mind run on +impossible perfections.”</p> + +<p>“I wish,” I shout against the traffic, “I could <i>smash</i> the +world of everyday.”</p> + +<p>My note becomes quarrelsome. “You may accept <i>this</i> as the +world of reality, <i>you</i> may consent to be one scar in an +ill-dressed compound wound, but so—not I! This is a dream +too—this world. <i>Your</i> dream, and you bring me back to +it—out of Utopia―”</p> + +<p>The crossing of Bow Street gives me pause again.</p> + +<p>The face of a girl who is passing westward, a student girl, +rather carelessly dressed, her books in a carrying-strap, comes +across my field of vision. The westward sun of London glows upon +her face. She has eyes that dream, surely no sensuous nor personal +dream.</p> + +<p>After all, after all, dispersed, hidden, disorganised, +undiscovered, unsuspected even by themselves, the <i>samurai</i> of +Utopia are in this world, the motives that are developed and +organised there stir dumbly here and stifle in ten thousand futile +hearts....</p> + +<p>I overtake the botanist, who got ahead at the crossing by the +advantage of a dust-cart.</p> + +<p>“You think this is real because you can't wake out of it,” I +say. “It's all a dream, and there are people—I'm just one of the +first of a multitude—between sleeping and waking—who will +presently be rubbing it out of their eyes.”</p> + +<p>A pinched and dirty little girl, with sores upon her face, +stretches out a bunch of wilting violets, in a pitifully thin +little fist, and interrupts my speech. “Bunch o' vi'lets—on'y a +penny.”</p> + +<p>“No!” I say curtly, hardening my heart.</p> + +<p>A ragged and filthy nursing mother, with her last addition to +our Imperial People on her arm, comes out of a drinkshop, and +stands a little unsteadily, and wipes mouth and nose +comprehensively with the back of a red chapped hand....</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 4</h4> + +<p>“Isn't <i>that</i> reality?” says the botanist, almost +triumphantly, and leaves me aghast at his triumph.</p> + +<p>“<i>That!</i>” I say belatedly. “It's a thing in a +nightmare!”</p> + +<p>He shakes his head and smiles—exasperatingly.</p> + +<p>I perceive quite abruptly that the botanist and I have reached +the limits of our intercourse.</p> + +<p>“The world dreams things like that,” I say, “because it suffers +from an indigestion of such people as you.”</p> + +<p>His low-toned self-complacency, like the faded banner of an +obstinate fort, still flies unconquered. And you know, he's not +even a happy man with it all!</p> + +<p>For ten seconds or more I am furiously seeking in my mind for a +word, for a term of abuse, for one compendious verbal missile that +shall smash this man for ever. It has to express total inadequacy +of imagination and will, spiritual anæmia, dull respectability, +gross sentimentality, a cultivated pettiness of heart....</p> + +<p>That word will not come. But no other word will do. Indeed the +word does not exist. There is nothing with sufficient vituperative +concentration for this moral and intellectual stupidity of educated +people....</p> + +<p>“Er―” he begins.</p> + +<p>No! I can't endure him.</p> + +<p>With a passionate rapidity of movement, I leave his side, dart +between a carriage and a van, duck under the head of a cab-horse, +and board a 'bus going westward somewhere—but anyhow, going in +exactly the reverse direction to the botanist. I clamber up the +steps and thread my swaying way to the seat immediately behind the +driver.</p> + +<p>“There!” I say, as I whack myself down on the seat and pant.</p> + +<p>When I look round the botanist is out of sight.</p> + +<h4 align="center">§ 5</h4> + +<p>But I am back in the world for all that, and my Utopia is +done.</p> + +<p>It is good discipline for the Utopist to visit this world +occasionally.</p> + +<p>But from the front seat on the top of an omnibus on a sunny +September afternoon, the Strand, and Charing Cross corner, and +Whitehall, and the great multitude of people, the great uproar of +vehicles, streaming in all directions, is apt to look a world +altogether too formidable. It has a glare, it has a tumult and +vigour that shouts one down. It shouts one down, if shouting is to +carry it. What good was it to trot along the pavement through this +noise and tumult of life, pleading Utopia to that botanist? What +good would it be to recommend Utopia in this driver's preoccupied +ear?</p> + +<p>There are moments in the life of every philosopher and dreamer +when he feels himself the flimsiest of absurdities, when the Thing +in Being has its way with him, its triumphant way, when it asks in +a roar, unanswerably, with a fine solid use of the current +vernacular, “What Good is all this—Rot about Utopias?”</p> + +<p>One inspects the Thing in Being with something of the diffident +speculation of primitive man, peering from behind a tree at an +angry elephant.</p> + +<p>(There is an omen in that image. On how many occasions must that +ancestor of ours have had just the Utopist's feeling of ambitious +unreality, have decided that on the whole it was wiser to go very +quietly home again, and leave the big beast alone? But, in the end, +men rode upon the elephant's head, and guided him this way or +that.... The Thing in Being that roars so tremendously about +Charing Cross corner seems a bigger antagonist than an elephant, +but then we have better weapons than chipped flint blades....)</p> + +<p>After all, in a very little time everything that impresses me so +mightily this September afternoon will have changed or passed away +for ever, everything. These omnibuses, these great, stalwart, +crowded, many-coloured things that jostle one another, and make so +handsome a clatter-clamour, will all have gone; they and their +horses and drivers and organisation; you will come here and you +will not find them. Something else will be here, some different +sort of vehicle, that is now perhaps the mere germ of an idea in +some engineer student's brain. And this road and pavement will have +changed, and these impressive great buildings; other buildings will +be here, buildings that are as yet more impalpable than this page +you read, more formless and flimsy by far than anything that is +reasoned here. Little plans sketched on paper, strokes of a pen or +of a brush, will be the first materialisations of what will at last +obliterate every detail and atom of these re-echoing actualities +that overwhelm us now. And the clothing and gestures of these +innumerable people, the character of their faces and bearing, these +too will be recast in the spirit of what are now obscure and +impalpable beginnings.</p> + +<p>The new things will be indeed of the substance of the thing that +is, but differing just in the measure of the will and imagination +that goes to make them. They will be strong and fair as the will is +sturdy and organised and the imagination comprehensive and bold; +they will be ugly and smeared with wretchedness as the will is +fluctuating and the imagination timid and mean.</p> + +<p>Indeed Will is stronger than Fact, it can mould and overcome +Fact. But this world has still to discover its will, it is a world +that slumbers inertly, and all this roar and pulsation of life is +no more than its heavy breathing.... My mind runs on to the thought +of an awakening.</p> + +<p>As my omnibus goes lumbering up Cockspur Street through the +clatter rattle of the cabs and carriages, there comes another fancy +in my mind.... Could one but realise an apocalyptic image and +suppose an angel, such as was given to each of the seven churches +of Asia, given for a space to the service of the Greater Rule. I +see him as a towering figure of flame and colour, standing between +earth and sky, with a trumpet in his hands, over there above the +Haymarket, against the October glow; and when he sounds, all the +<i>samurai</i>, all who are <i>samurai</i> in Utopia, will know +themselves and one another....</p> + +<p>(Whup! says a motor brougham, and a policeman stays the traffic +with his hand.)</p> + +<p>All of us who partake of the <i>samurai</i> would know ourselves +and one another!</p> + +<p>For a moment I have a vision of this resurrection of the living, +of a vague, magnificent answer, of countless myriads at attention, +of all that is fine in humanity at attention, round the compass of +the earth.</p> + +<p>Then that philosophy of individual uniqueness resumes its sway +over my thoughts, and my dream of a world's awakening fades.</p> + +<p>I had forgotten....</p> + +<p>Things do not happen like that. God is not simple, God is not +theatrical, the summons comes to each man in its due time for him, +with an infinite subtlety of variety....</p> + +<p>If that is so, what of my Utopia?</p> + +<p>This infinite world must needs be flattened to get it on one +retina. The picture of a solid thing, although it is flattened and +simplified, is not necessarily a lie. Surely, surely, in the end, +by degrees, and steps, something of this sort, some such +understanding, as this Utopia must come. First here, then there, +single men and then groups of men will fall into line—not indeed +with my poor faulty hesitating suggestions—but with a great and +comprehensive plan wrought out by many minds and in many tongues. +It is just because my plan is faulty, because it mis-states so +much, and omits so much, that they do not now fall in. It will not +be like <i>my</i> dream, the world that is coming. My dream is just +my own poor dream, the thing sufficient for me. We fail in +comprehension, we fail so variously and abundantly. We see as much +as it is serviceable for us to see, and we see no further. But the +fresh undaunted generations come to take on our work beyond our +utmost effort, beyond the range of our ideas. They will learn with +certainty things that to us are guesses and riddles....</p> + +<p>There will be many Utopias. Each generation will have its new +version of Utopia, a little more certain and complete and real, +with its problems lying closer and closer to the problems of the +Thing in Being. Until at last from dreams Utopias will have come to +be working drawings, and the whole world will be shaping the final +World State, the fair and great and fruitful World State, that will +only not be a Utopia because it will be this world. So surely it +must be―</p> + +<p><i>The policeman drops his hand. “Come up,” says the 'bus +driver, and the horses strain; “Clitter, clatter, cluck, clak,” the +line of hurrying hansoms overtakes the omnibus going west. A +dexterous lad on a bicycle with a bale of newspapers on his back +dodges nimbly across the head of the column and vanishes up a side +street.</i></p> + +<p><i>The omnibus sways forward. Rapt and prophetic, his plump +hands clasped round the handle of his umbrella, his billycock hat a +trifle askew, this irascible little man of the Voice, this +impatient dreamer, this scolding Optimist, who has argued so rudely +and dogmatically about economics and philosophy and decoration, and +indeed about everything under the sun, who has been so hard on the +botanist and fashionable women, and so reluctant in the matter of +beer, is carried onward, dreaming dreams, dreams that with all the +inevitable ironies of difference, may be realities when you and I +are dreams.</i></p> + +<p><i>He passes, and for a little space we are left with his +egoisms and idiosyncrasies more or less in suspense.</i></p> + +<p><i>But why was he intruded? you ask. Why could not a modern +Utopia be discussed without this impersonation—impersonally? It +has confused the book, you say, made the argument hard to follow, +and thrown a quality of insincerity over the whole. Are we but +mocking at Utopias, you demand, using all these noble and +generalised hopes as the backcloth against which two bickering +personalities jar and squabble? Do I mean we are never to view the +promised land again except through a foreground of +fellow-travellers? There is a common notion that the reading of a +Utopia should end with a swelling heart and clear resolves, with +lists of names, formation of committees, and even the commencement +of subscriptions. But this Utopia began upon a philosophy of +fragmentation, and ends, confusedly, amidst a gross tumult of +immediate realities, in dust and doubt, with, at the best, one +individual's aspiration. Utopias were once in good faith, projects +for a fresh creation of the world and of a most unworldly +completeness; this so-called Modern Utopia is a mere story of +personal adventures among Utopian philosophies.</i></p> + +<p><i>Indeed, that came about without the writer's intention. So it +was the summoned vision came. For I see about me a great multitude +of little souls and groups of souls as darkened, as derivative as +my own; with the passage of years I understand more and more +clearly the quality of the motives that urge me and urge them to do +whatever we do.... Yet that is not all I see, and I am not +altogether bounded by my littleness. Ever and again, contrasting +with this immediate vision, come glimpses of a comprehensive +scheme, in which these personalities float, the scheme of a +synthetic wider being, the great State, mankind, in which we all +move and go, like blood corpuscles, like nerve cells, it may be at +times like brain cells, in the body of a man. But the two visions +are not seen consistently together, at least by me, and I do not +surely know that they exist consistently together. The motives +needed for those wider issues come not into the interplay of my +vanities and wishes. That greater scheme lies about the men and +women I know, as I have tried to make the vistas and spaces, the +mountains, cities, laws, and order of Utopia lie about my talking +couple, too great for their sustained comprehension. When one +focuses upon these two that wide landscape becomes indistinct and +distant, and when one regards that then the real persons one knows +grow vague and unreal. Nevertheless, I cannot separate these two +aspects of human life, each commenting on the other. In that +incongruity between great and individual inheres the +incompatibility I could not resolve, and which, therefore, I have +had to present in this conflicting form. At times that great scheme +does seem to me to enter certain men's lives as a passion, as a +real and living motive; there are those who know it almost as if it +was a thing of desire; even for me, upon occasion, the little lures +of the immediate life are seen small and vain, and the soul goes +out to that mighty Being, to apprehend it and serve it and possess. +But this is an illumination that passes as it comes, a rare +transitory lucidity, leaving the soul's desire suddenly turned to +presumption and hypocrisy upon the lips. One grasps at the Universe +and attains—Bathos. The hungers, the jealousies, the prejudices +and habits have us again, and we are forced back to think that it +is so, and not otherwise, that we are meant to serve the mysteries; +that in these blinkers it is we are driven to an end we cannot +understand. And then, for measured moments in the night watches or +as one walks alone or while one sits in thought and speech with a +friend, the wider aspirations glow again with a sincere emotion, +with the colours of attainable desire....</i></p> + +<p><i>That is my all about Utopia, and about the desire and need +for Utopia, and how that planet lies to this planet that bears the +daily lives of men.</i></p> + +<hr> + +<h3 align="center">APPENDIX<br> +SCEPTICISM OF THE INSTRUMENT</h3> + +<p>A Portion of a Paper read to the Oxford Philosophical Society, +November 8, 1903, and reprinted, with some Revision, from the +Version given in <i>Mind</i>, vol. xiii. (N.S.), No. 51.</p> + +<p>(<i>See also</i> Chapter I., § 6, and Chapter X., +§§ 1 and 2.)</p> + +<p>It seems to me that I may most propitiously attempt to interest +you this evening by describing very briefly the particular +metaphysical and philosophical system in which I do my thinking, +and more particularly by setting out for your consideration one or +two points in which I seem to myself to differ most widely from +current accepted philosophy.</p> + +<p>You must be prepared for things that will strike you as crude, +for a certain difference of accent and dialect that you may not +like, and you must be prepared too to hear what may strike you as +the clumsy statement of my ignorant rediscovery of things already +beautifully thought out and said. But in the end you may incline to +forgive me some of this first offence.... It is quite unavoidable +that, in setting out these intellectual foundations of mine, I +should lapse for a moment or so towards autobiography.</p> + +<p>A convergence of circumstances led to my having my knowledge of +concrete things quite extensively developed before I came to +philosophical examination at all. I have heard someone say that a +savage or an animal is mentally a purely objective being, and in +that respect I was like a savage or an animal until I was well over +twenty. I was extremely unaware of the subjective or introverted +element in my being. I was a Positivist without knowing it. My +early education was a feeble one; it was one in which my private +observation, inquiry and experiment were far more important factors +than any instruction, or rather perhaps the instruction I received +was less even than what I learnt for myself, and it terminated at +thirteen. I had come into pretty intimate contact with the harder +realities of life, with hunger in various forms, and many base and +disagreeable necessities, before I was fifteen. About that age, +following the indication of certain theological and speculative +curiosities, I began to learn something of what I will call +deliberately and justly, Elementary Science—stuff I got out of +<i>Cassell's Popular Educator</i> and cheap text-books—and then, +through accidents and ambitions that do not matter in the least to +us now, I came to three years of illuminating and good scientific +work. The central fact of those three years was Huxley's course in +Comparative Anatomy at the school in Exhibition Road. About that as +a nucleus I arranged a spacious digest of facts. At the end of that +time I had acquired what I still think to be a fairly clear, and +complete and ordered view of the ostensibly real universe. Let me +try to give you the chief things I had. I had man definitely placed +in the great scheme of space and time. I knew him incurably for +what he was, finite and not final, a being of compromises and +adaptations. I had traced his lungs, for example, from a swimming +bladder, step by step, with scalpel and probe, through a dozen +types or more, I had seen the ancestral cæcum shrink to that +disease nest, the appendix of to-day, I had watched the gill slit +patched slowly to the purposes of the ear and the reptile jaw +suspension utilised to eke out the needs of a sense organ taken +from its native and natural water. I had worked out the development +of those extraordinarily unsatisfactory and untrustworthy +instruments, man's teeth, from the skin scutes of the shark to +their present function as a basis for gold stoppings, and followed +the slow unfolding of the complex and painful process of gestation +through which man comes into the world. I had followed all these +things and many kindred things by dissection and in embryology—I +had checked the whole theory of development again in a year's +course of palæontology, and I had taken the dimensions of the +whole process, by the scale of the stars, in a course of +astronomical physics. And all that amount of objective elucidation +came before I had reached the beginnings of any philosophical or +metaphysical inquiry, any inquiry as to why I believed, how I +believed, what I believed, or what the fundamental stuff of things +was.</p> + +<p>Now following hard upon this interlude with knowledge, came a +time when I had to give myself to teaching, and it became advisable +to acquire one of those Teaching Diplomas that are so widely and so +foolishly despised, and that enterprise set me to a superficial, +but suggestive study of educational method, of educational theory, +of logic, of psychology, and so at last, when the little affair +with the diploma was settled, to philosophy. Now to come to logic +over the bracing uplands of comparative anatomy is to come to logic +with a lot of very natural preconceptions blown clean out of one's +mind. It is, I submit, a way of taking logic in the flank. When you +have realised to the marrow, that all the physical organs of man +and all his physical structure are what they are through a series +of adaptations and approximations, and that they are kept up to a +level of practical efficiency only by the elimination of death, and +that this is true also of his brain and of his instincts and of +many of his mental predispositions, you are not going to take his +thinking apparatus unquestioningly as being in any way mysteriously +different and better. And I had read only a little logic before I +became aware of implications that I could not agree with, and +assumptions that seemed to me to be altogether at variance with the +general scheme of objective fact established in my mind.</p> + +<p>I came to an examination of logical processes and of language +with the expectation that they would share the profoundly +provisional character, the character of irregular limitation and +adaptation that pervades the whole physical and animal being of +man. And I found the thing I had expected. And as a consequence I +found a sort of intellectual hardihood about the assumptions of +logic, that at first confused me and then roused all the latent +scepticism in my mind.</p> + +<p>My first quarrel with the accepted logic I developed long ago in +a little paper that was printed in the <i>Fortnightly Review</i> in +July 1891. It was called the “Rediscovery of the Unique,” and +re-reading it I perceive not only how bad and even annoying it was +in manner—a thing I have long known—but also how remarkably bad +it was in expression. I have good reason for doubting whether my +powers of expression in these uses have very perceptibly improved, +but at any rate I am doing my best now with that previous failure +before me.</p> + +<p>That unfortunate paper, among other oversights I can no longer +regard as trivial, disregarded quite completely the fact that a +whole literature upon the antagonism of the one and the many, of +the specific ideal and the individual reality, was already in +existence. It defined no relations to other thought or thinkers. I +understand now, what I did not understand then, why it was totally +ignored. But the idea underlying that paper I cling to to-day. I +consider it an idea that will ultimately be regarded as one of +primary importance to human thought, and I will try and present the +substance of that early paper again now very briefly, as the best +opening of my general case. My opening scepticism is essentially a +doubt of <i>the objective reality of classification</i>. I have no +hesitation in saying that is the first and primary proposition of +my philosophy.</p> + +<p>I have it in my mind that classification is a necessary +condition of the working of the mental implement, but that it is a +departure from the objective truth of things, that classification +is very serviceable for the practical purposes of life but a very +doubtful preliminary to those fine penetrations the philosophical +purpose, in its more arrogant moods, demands. All the peculiarities +of my way of thinking derive from that.</p> + +<p>A mind nourished upon anatomical study is of course permeated +with the suggestion of the vagueness and instability of biological +species. A biological species is quite obviously a great number of +unique individuals which is separable from other biological species +only by the fact that an enormous number of other linking +individuals are inaccessible in time—are in other words dead and +gone—and each new individual in that species does, in the +distinction of its own individuality, break away in however +infinitesimal degree from the previous average properties of the +species. There is no property of any species, even the properties +that constitute the specific definition, that is not a matter of +more or less. If, for example, a species be distinguished by a +single large red spot on the back, you will find if you go over a +great number of specimens that red spot shrinking here to nothing, +expanding there to a more general redness, weakening to pink, +deepening to russet and brown, shading into crimson, and so on, and +so on. And this is true not only of biological species. It is true +of the mineral specimens constituting a mineral species, and I +remember as a constant refrain in the lectures of Prof. Judd upon +rock classification, the words “they pass into one another by +insensible gradations.” That is true, I hold, of all things.</p> + +<p>You will think perhaps of atoms of the elements as instances of +identically similar things, but these are things not of experience +but of theory, and there is not a phenomenon in chemistry that is +not equally well explained on the supposition that it is merely the +immense quantities of atoms necessarily taken in any experiment +that mask by the operation of the law of averages the fact that +each atom also has its unique quality, its special individual +difference. This idea of uniqueness in all individuals is not only +true of the classifications of material science; it is true, and +still more evidently true, of the species of common thought, it is +true of common terms. Take the word <i>chair</i>. When one says +chair, one thinks vaguely of an average chair. But collect +individual instances, think of armchairs and reading chairs, and +dining-room chairs and kitchen chairs, chairs that pass into +benches, chairs that cross the boundary and become settees, +dentists' chairs, thrones, opera stalls, seats of all sorts, those +miraculous fungoid growths that cumber the floor of the Arts and +Crafts Exhibition, and you will perceive what a lax bundle in fact +is this simple straightforward term. In co-operation with an +intelligent joiner I would undertake to defeat any definition of +chair or chairishness that you gave me. Chairs just as much as +individual organisms, just as much as mineral and rock specimens, +are unique things—if you know them well enough you will find an +individual difference even in a set of machine-made chairs—and it +is only because we do not possess minds of unlimited capacity, +because our brain has only a limited number of pigeon-holes for our +correspondence with an unlimited universe of objective uniques, +that we have to delude ourselves into the belief that there is a +chairishness in this species common to and distinctive of all +chairs.</p> + +<p>Let me repeat; this is of the very smallest importance in all +the practical affairs of life, or indeed in relation to anything +but philosophy and wide generalisations. But in philosophy it +matters profoundly. If I order two new-laid eggs for breakfast, up +come two unhatched but still unique avian individuals, and the +chances are they serve my rude physiological purpose. I can afford +to ignore the hens' eggs of the past that were not quite so nearly +this sort of thing, and the hens' eggs of the future that will +accumulate modification age by age; I can venture to ignore the +rare chance of an abnormality in chemical composition and of any +startling aberration in my physiological reaction; I can, with a +confidence that is practically perfect, say with unqualified +simplicity “two eggs,” but not if my concern is not my morning's +breakfast but the utmost possible truth.</p> + +<p>Now let me go on to point out whither this idea of uniqueness +tends. I submit to you that syllogism is based on classification, +that all hard logical reasoning tends to imply and is apt to imply +a confidence in the objective reality of classification. +Consequently in denying that I deny the absolute validity of logic. +Classification and number, which in truth ignore the fine +differences of objective realities, have in the past of human +thought been imposed upon things. Let me for clearness' sake take a +liberty here—commit, as you may perhaps think, an unpardonable +insolence. Hindoo thought and Greek thought alike impress me as +being overmuch obsessed by an objective treatment of certain +necessary preliminary conditions of human thought—number and +definition and class and abstract form. But these things, number, +definition, class and abstract form, I hold, are merely unavoidable +conditions of mental activity—regrettable conditions rather than +essential facts. <i>The forceps of our minds are clumsy forceps, +and crush the truth a little in taking hold of it.</i></p> + +<p>It was about this difficulty that the mind of Plato played a +little inconclusively all his life. For the most part he tended to +regard the <i>idea</i> as the something behind reality, whereas it +seems to me that the idea is the more proximate and less perfect +thing, the thing by which the mind, by ignoring individual +differences, attempts to comprehend an otherwise unmanageable +number of unique realities.</p> + +<p>Let me give you a rough figure of what I am trying to convey in +this first attack upon the philosophical validity of general terms. +You have seen the results of those various methods of black and +white reproduction that involve the use of a rectangular net. You +know the sort of process picture I mean—it used to be employed +very frequently in reproducing photographs. At a little distance +you really seem to have a faithful reproduction of the original +picture, but when you peer closely you find not the unique form and +masses of the original, but a multitude of little rectangles, +uniform in shape and size. The more earnestly you go into the +thing, the closer you look, the more the picture is lost in +reticulations. I submit the world of reasoned inquiry has a very +similar relation to the world I call objectively real. For the +rough purposes of every day the net-work picture will do, but the +finer your purpose the less it will serve, and for an ideally fine +purpose, for absolute and general knowledge that will be as true +for a man at a distance with a telescope as for a man with a +microscope it will not serve at all.</p> + +<p>It is true you can make your net of logical interpretation finer +and finer, you can fine your classification more and more—up to a +certain limit. But essentially you are working in limits, and as +you come closer, as you look at finer and subtler things, as you +leave the practical purpose for which the method exists, the +element of error increases. Every species is vague, every term goes +cloudy at its edges, and so in my way of thinking, relentless logic +is only another phrase for a stupidity,—for a sort of intellectual +pigheadedness. If you push a philosophical or metaphysical inquiry +through a series of valid syllogisms—never committing any +generally recognised fallacy—you nevertheless leave a certain +rubbing and marginal loss of objective truth and you get +deflections that are difficult to trace, at each phase in the +process. Every species waggles about in its definition, every tool +is a little loose in its handle, every scale has its individual +error. So long as you are reasoning for practical purposes about +the finite things of experience, you can every now and then check +your process, and correct your adjustments. But not when you make +what are called philosophical and theological inquiries, when you +turn your implement towards the final absolute truth of things. +Doing that is like firing at an inaccessible, unmarkable and +indestructible target at an unknown distance, with a defective +rifle and variable cartridges. Even if by chance you hit, you +cannot know that you hit, and so it will matter nothing at all.</p> + +<p>This assertion of the necessary untrustworthiness of all +reasoning processes arising out of the fallacy of classification in +what is quite conceivably a universe of uniques, forms only one +introductory aspect of my general scepticism of the Instrument of +Thought.</p> + +<p>I have now to tell you of another aspect of this scepticism of +the instrument which concerns negative terms.</p> + +<p>Classes in logic are not only represented by circles with a hard +firm outline, whereas they have no such definite limits, but also +there is a constant disposition to think of negative terms as if +they represented positive classes. With words just as with numbers +and abstract forms there are definite phases of human development. +There is, you know, with regard to number, the phase when man can +barely count at all, or counts in perfect good faith and sanity +upon his fingers. Then there is the phase when he is struggling +with the development of number, when he begins to elaborate all +sorts of ideas about numbers, until at last he develops complex +superstitions about perfect numbers and imperfect numbers, about +threes and sevens and the like. The same is the case with +abstracted forms, and even to-day we are scarcely more than heads +out of the vast subtle muddle of thinking about spheres and ideally +perfect forms and so on, that was the price of this little +necessary step to clear thinking. You know better than I do how +large a part numerical and geometrical magic, numerical and +geometrical philosophy has played in the history of the mind. And +the whole apparatus of language and mental communication is beset +with like dangers. The language of the savage is, I suppose, purely +positive; the thing has a name, the name has a thing. This indeed +is the tradition of language, and to-day even, we, when we hear a +name, are predisposed—and sometimes it is a very vicious +disposition—to imagine forthwith something answering to the name. +<i>We are disposed, as an incurable mental vice, to accumulate +intension in terms.</i> If I say to you Wodget or Crump, you find +yourself passing over the fact that these are nothings, these are, +so to speak, mere blankety blanks, and trying to think what sort of +thing a Wodget or a Crump may be. And where this disposition has +come in, in its most alluring guise, is in the case of negative +terms. Our instrument of knowledge persists in handling even such +openly negative terms as the Absolute, the Infinite, as though they +were real existences, and when the negative element is ever so +little disguised, as it is in such a word as Omniscience, then the +illusion of positive reality may be complete.</p> + +<p>Please remember that I am trying to tell you my philosophy, and +not arguing about yours. Let me try and express how in my mind this +matter of negative terms has shaped itself. I think of something +which I may perhaps best describe as being off the stage or out of +court, or as the Void without Implications, or as Nothingness or as +Outer Darkness. This is a sort of hypothetical Beyond to the +visible world of human thought, and thither I think all negative +terms reach at last, and merge and become nothing. Whatever +positive class you make, whatever boundary you draw, straight away +from that boundary begins the corresponding negative class and +passes into the illimitable horizon of nothingness. You talk of +pink things, you ignore, if you are a trained logician, the more +elusive shades of pink, and draw your line. Beyond is the not pink, +known and knowable, and still in the not pink region one comes to +the Outer Darkness. Not blue, not happy, not iron, all the +<i>not</i> classes meet in that Outer Darkness. That same Outer +Darkness and nothingness is infinite space, and infinite time, and +any being of infinite qualities, and all that region I rule out of +court in my philosophy altogether. I will neither affirm nor deny +if I can help it about any <i>not</i> things. I will not deal with +not things at all, except by accident and inadvertence. If I use +the word ‘infinite’ I use it as one often uses ‘countless,’ “the +countless hosts of the enemy”—or ‘immeasurable’—“immeasurable +cliffs”—that is to say as the limit of measurement rather than as +the limit of imaginary measurability, as a convenient equivalent to +as many times this cloth yard as you can, and as many again and so +on and so on. Now a great number of apparently positive terms are, +or have become, practically negative terms and are under the same +ban with me. A considerable number of terms that have played a +great part in the world of thought, seem to me to be invalidated by +this same defect, to have no content or an undefined content or an +unjustifiable content. For example, that word Omniscient, as +implying infinite knowledge, impresses me as being a word with a +delusive air of being solid and full, when it is really hollow with +no content whatever. I am persuaded that knowing is the relation of +a conscious being to something not itself, that the thing known is +defined as a system of parts and aspects and relationships, that +knowledge is comprehension, and so that only finite things can know +or be known. When you talk of a being of infinite extension and +infinite duration, omniscient and omnipotent and Perfect, you seem +to me to be talking in negatives of nothing whatever. When you +speak of the Absolute you speak to me of nothing. If however you +talk of a great yet finite and thinkable being, a being not myself, +extending beyond my imagination in time and space, knowing all that +I can think of as known and capable of doing all that I can think +of as done, you come into the sphere of my mental operations, and +into the scheme of my philosophy....</p> + +<p>These then are my first two charges against our Instrument of +Knowledge, firstly, that it can work only by disregarding +individuality and treating uniques as identically similar objects +in this respect or that, so as to group them under one term, and +that once it has done so it tends automatically to intensify the +significance of that term, and secondly, that it can only deal +freely with negative terms by treating them as though they were +positive. But I have a further objection to the Instrument of Human +Thought, that is not correlated to these former objections and that +is also rather more difficult to convey.</p> + +<p>Essentially this idea is to present a sort of stratification in +human ideas. I have it very much in mind that various terms in our +reasoning lie, as it were, at different levels and in different +planes, and that we accomplish a large amount of error and +confusion by reasoning terms together that do not lie or nearly lie +in the same plane.</p> + +<p>Let me endeavour to make myself a little less obscure by a most +flagrant instance from physical things. Suppose some one began to +talk seriously of a man seeing an atom through a microscope, or +better perhaps of cutting one in half with a knife. There are a +number of non-analytical people who would be quite prepared to +believe that an atom could be visible to the eye or cut in this +manner. But any one at all conversant with physical conceptions +would almost as soon think of killing the square root of 2 with a +rook rifle as of cutting an atom in half with a knife. Our +conception of an atom is reached through a process of hypothesis +and analysis, and in the world of atoms there are no knives and no +men to cut. If you have thought with a strong consistent mental +movement, then when you have thought of your atom under the knife +blade, your knife blade has itself become a cloud of swinging +grouped atoms, and your microscope lens a little universe of +oscillatory and vibratory molecules. If you think of the universe, +thinking at the level of atoms, there is neither knife to cut, +scale to weigh nor eye to see. The universe <i>at that plane to +which the mind of the molecular physicist descends</i> has none of +the shapes or forms of our common life whatever. This hand with +which I write is in the universe of molecular physics a cloud of +warring atoms and molecules, combining and recombining, colliding, +rotating, flying hither and thither in the universal atmosphere of +ether.</p> + +<p>You see, I hope, what I mean, when I say that the universe of +molecular physics is at a different level from the universe of +common experience;—what we call stable and solid is in that world +a freely moving system of interlacing centres of force, what we +call colour and sound is there no more than this length of +vibration or that. We have reached to a conception of that universe +of molecular physics by a great enterprise of organised analysis, +and our universe of daily experiences stands in relation to that +elemental world as if it were a synthesis of those elemental +things.</p> + +<p>I would suggest to you that this is only a very extreme instance +of the general state of affairs, that there may be finer and +subtler differences of level between one term and another, and that +terms may very well be thought of as lying obliquely and as being +twisted through different levels.</p> + +<p>It will perhaps give a clearer idea of what I am seeking to +convey if I suggest a concrete image for the whole world of a man's +thought and knowledge. Imagine a large clear jelly, in which at all +angles and in all states of simplicity or contortion his ideas are +imbedded. They are all valid and possible ideas as they lie, none +in reality incompatible with any. If you imagine the direction of +up or down in this clear jelly being as it were the direction in +which one moves by analysis or by synthesis, if you go down for +example from matter to atoms and centres of force and up to men and +states and countries—if you will imagine the ideas lying in that +manner—you will get the beginning of my intention. But our +Instrument, our process of thinking, like a drawing before the +discovery of perspective, appears to have difficulties with the +third dimension, appears capable only of dealing with or reasoning +about ideas by projecting them upon the same plane. It will be +obvious that a great multitude of things may very well exist +together in a solid jelly, which would be overlapping and +incompatible and mutually destructive, when projected together upon +one plane. Through the bias in our Instrument to do this, through +reasoning between terms not in the same plane, an enormous amount +of confusion, perplexity and mental deadlocking occurs.</p> + +<p>The old theological deadlock between predestination and +free-will serves admirably as an example of the sort of deadlock I +mean. Take life at the level of common sensation and common +experience and there is no more indisputable fact than man's +freedom of will, unless it is his complete moral responsibility. +But make only the least penetrating of analyses and you perceive a +world of inevitable consequences, a rigid succession of cause and +effect. Insist upon a flat agreement between the two, and there you +are! The Instrument fails.</p> + +<p>It is upon these three objections, and upon an extreme suspicion +of abstract terms which arises materially out of my first and +second objections, that I chiefly rest my case for a profound +scepticism of the remoter possibilities of the Instrument of +Thought. It is a thing no more perfect than the human eye or the +human ear, though like those other instruments it may have +undefined possibilities of evolution towards increased range, and +increased power.</p> + +<p>So much for my main contention. But before I conclude I +may—since I am here—say a little more in the autobiographical +vein, and with a view to your discussion to show how I reconcile +this fundamental scepticism with the very positive beliefs about +world-wide issues I possess, and the very definite distinction I +make between right and wrong.</p> + +<p>I reconcile these things by simply pointing out to you that if +there is any validity in my image of that three dimensional jelly +in which our ideas are suspended, such a reconciliation as you +demand in logic, such a projection of the things as in accordance +upon one plane, is totally unnecessary and impossible.</p> + +<p>This insistence upon the element of uniqueness in being, this +subordination of the class to the individual difference, not only +destroys the universal claim of philosophy, but the universal claim +of ethical imperatives, the universal claim of any religious +teaching. If you press me back upon my fundamental position I must +confess I put faith and standards and rules of conduct upon exactly +the same level as I put my belief of what is right in art, and what +I consider right practice in art. I have arrived at a certain sort +of self-knowledge and there are, I find, very distinct imperatives +for me, but I am quite prepared to admit there is no proving them +imperative on any one else. One's political proceedings, one's +moral acts are, I hold, just as much self-expression as one's +poetry or painting or music. But since life has for its primordial +elements assimilation and aggression, I try not only to obey my +imperatives, but to put them persuasively and convincingly into +other minds, to bring about <i>my</i> good and to resist and +overcome <i>my</i> evil as though they were the universal Good and +the universal Evil in which unthinking men believe. And it is +obviously in no way contradictory to this philosophy, for me, if I +find others responding sympathetically to any notes of mine or if I +find myself responding sympathetically to notes sounding about me, +to give that common resemblance between myself and others a name, +to refer these others and myself in common to this thing as if it +were externalised and spanned us all.</p> + +<p>Scepticism of the Instrument is for example not incompatible +with religious association and with organisation upon the basis of +a common faith. It is possible to regard God as a Being synthetic +in relation to men and societies, just as the idea of a universe of +atoms and molecules and inorganic relationships is analytical in +relation to human life.</p> + +<p>The repudiation of demonstration in any but immediate and +verifiable cases that this Scepticism of the Instrument amounts to, +the abandonment of any universal validity for moral and religious +propositions, brings ethical, social and religious teaching into +the province of poetry, and does something to correct the +estrangement between knowledge and beauty that is a feature of so +much mental existence at this time. All these things are +self-expression. Such an opinion sets a new and greater value on +that penetrating and illuminating quality of mind we call insight, +insight which when it faces towards the contradictions that arise +out of the imperfections of the mental instrument is called humour. +In these innate, unteachable qualities I hold—in humour and the +sense of beauty—lies such hope of intellectual salvation from the +original sin of our intellectual instrument as we may entertain in +this uncertain and fluctuating world of unique appearances....</p> + +<p>So frankly I spread my little equipment of fundamental +assumptions before you, heartily glad of the opportunity you have +given me of taking them out, of looking at them with the +particularity the presence of hearers ensures, and of hearing the +impression they make upon you. Of course, such a sketch must have +an inevitable crudity of effect. The time I had for it—I mean the +time I was able to give in preparation—was altogether too limited +for any exhaustive finish of presentation; but I think on the whole +I have got the main lines of this sketch map of my mental basis +true. Whether I have made myself comprehensible is a different +question altogether. It is for you rather than me to say how this +sketch map of mine lies with regard to your own more systematic +cartography....</p> + +<p>Here followed certain comments upon <i>Personal Idealism</i>, +and Mr. F. C. S. Schiller's <i>Humanism</i>, of no particular +value.</p> + + +<pre> + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Modern Utopia, by H. G. Wells + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MODERN UTOPIA *** + +This file should be named 6424-h.txt or 6424-h.zip + +Produced by Andrew Sly + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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