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 THE DIFFICULTIES OF SOCIALISM

hear much nowadays of Socialism, and one prominent personage has declared that we are all Socialists. Perhaps we are. Perhaps we have always been so. But, before accepting Sir William Harcourt's assertion, we must have some more definite knowledge of its meaning. An interest in the condition of our fellow-creatures, a dissatisfaction with the lot of the multitude, a desire for its improvement—these feelings have coursed through many generations of men, nor have they stopped short with mere aspirations after a better state. They have again and again impelled chosen lovers of their kind to strong and sustained efforts to lift the poor out of the mire, to establish a higher standard of life below which none should be degraded. These are no new sentiments, nor are they now for the first time bearing fruitage in work. It is a common temptation to think that we are among the first to realize the misery of the common life of man; and along with that thought often comes the persuasion that this misery was never so great as it is now. A trusty measure of the well-being of successive swarms of men is not easily discoverable, but very little reflection is necessary to convince us that neither is this generation the most pitiable of all, nor are we among the forerunners of philanthropy. Although we have not, and cannot have, an exact scale of comparison with the past, literature and history alike prove that the average condition of the mass of men has slowly risen; and the upward movement has been largely due to the zeal of many who have been eminent in successive generations in labouring to raise the race. The pessimist opinion to the contrary is an error, but, it must be added, that the error is not born out of mere vanity. A young man whose earlier years have been spent among happy conditions awakens in the fulness of time to a new revelation,