There are many who believe that if all the workers became abstainers, worked harder, lived sparely, and saved every penny they could; and that if they avoided early marriages and large families, they would all be happy and prosperous without Socialism.

And, of course, these same persons believe that the bulk of the suffering and poverty of the poor is due to drink, to thriftlessness, and to imprudent marriages.

I know that many, very many, do believe these things, because I used to meet such persons when I went out lecturing.

Now I know that belief to be wrong. I know that if every working man and woman in England turned teetotaler to-morrow, if they all remained single, if they all worked like niggers, if they all worked for twelve hours a day, if they lived on oatmeal and water, and if they saved every farthing they could spare, they would, at the end of twenty years, be a great deal worse off than they are to-day.

Sobriety, thrift, industry, skill, self-denial, holiness, are all good things; but they would, if adopted by all the workers, simply enrich the idle and the wicked, and reduce the industrious and the righteous to slavery.

Teetotalism will not do; industry will not do; saving will not do; increased skill will not do; keeping single will not do; reducing the population will not do. Nothing will do but Socialism.

I mean to make these things plain to you if I can.

I will begin by answering a statement made by a Tory M.P. As reported in the Press, the M.P. said, "There was nothing to prevent the son of a crossing-sweeper from rising to be Lord Chancellor of England."

This, at first sight, would seem to have nothing to do with the theories regarding thrift, temperance, and prudent marriages. But we shall find that it arises from the same error.

This error has two faces. On one face it says that any man may do well if he will try, and on the other face it says that those who do not do well have no one but themselves to blame.

The error rises from a slight confusion of thought. Men know that a man may rise from the lowest place in life to almost the highest, and they suppose that because one man can do it, all men can do it; they know that if one man works hard, saves, keeps sober, and remains single, he will get more money than other men who drink and spend and take life easily, and they suppose because thrift, single life, industry, and temperance spell success to one man, they would spell success to all.

I will show you that this is a mistake, and I will show you why it is a mistake. Let us begin with the crossing-sweeper.

We are told that "there is nothing to prevent the son of a crossing-sweeper from becoming Lord Chancellor of England." But our M.P. does not mean that there is nothing to prevent the son of some one particular crossing-sweeper from becoming Chancellor; he means that there is nothing to prevent any son of any crossing-sweeper, or the son of any very poor man, from becoming rich and famous.

Now, let me show you what nonsense this is.

There are in all England, let us say, some 2,000,000 of poor and friendless and untaught boys.

And there is one Lord Chancellor. Now, it is just possible for one boy out of the 2,000,000 to become Lord Chancellor; but it is quite impossible for all the boys, or even for one boy in 1000, or for one boy in 10,000, to become Lord Chancellor.

Our M.P. means that if a boy is clever and industrious he may become Lord Chancellor.

But suppose all the boys are as clever and as industrious as he is, they cannot all become chancellors.

The one boy can only succeed because he is stronger, cleverer, more pushing, more persistent, or more lucky than any other boy.

In my story, Bob's Fairy, this very point is raised. I will quote it for you here. Bob, who is a boy, is much troubled about the poor; his father, who is a self-made man and mayor of his native town, tells Bob that the poor are suffering because of their own faults. The parson then tries to make Bob understand—

"Come, come, come," said the reverend gentleman, "you are too young for such questions. Ah—let me try to—ah—explain it to you. Here is your father. He is wealthy. He is honoured. He is mayor of his native town. Now, how did he make his way?"

Mr. Toppinroyd smiled, and poured himself out another glass of wine. His wife nodded her head approvingly at the minister.

"Your father," continued the minister, "made himself what he is by industry, thrift, and talent."

"If another man was as clever, and as industrious and thrifty as father," said Bob, "could he get on as well?"

"Of course he could," replied Mr. Toppinroyd.

"Then the poor are not like that?" asked Bob.

"I regret to say," said the parson, "that—ah—they are not."

"But if they were like father, they could do what he has done?" Bob said.

"Of course, you silly," exclaimed his mother.

Ned chuckled behind his paper. Kate turned to the piano.

Bob nodded and smiled. "How droll!" said he.

"What's droll?" his father asked sharply.

"Why," said Bob, "how funny it would be if all the people were industrious, and clever, and steady!"

"Funny?" ejaculated the parson.

"Funny?" repeated Mr. Toppinroyd.

"What do you mean, dear?" inquired Mrs. Toppinroyd mildly.

"If all the men in Loomborough were as clever and as good as father," said Bob simply, "there would be 50,000 rich mill-owners, and they would all be mayor of the same town."

Mr. Toppinroyd gave a sharp glance at his son, then leaned forward, boxed his ears, and said—

"Get to bed, you young monkey. Go!"

Do you see the idea? The poor cannot all be mayors and chancellors and millionaires, because there are too many of them and not enough high places.

But they can all be asses, and they will be asses, if they listen to such rubbish as that uttered by this Tory M.P.

You have twenty men starting for a race. You may say, "There is nothing to prevent any man from winning the race," but you mean any one man who is luckier or swifter than the rest. You would never be foolish enough to believe that all the men could win. You know that nineteen of the men must lose.

So we know that in a race for the Chancellorship only one boy can win, and the other 1,999,999 must lose.

It is the same thing with temperance, industry, and cleverness. Of 10,000 mechanics one is steadier, more industrious, and more skilful than the others. Therefore he will get work where the others cannot. But why? Because he is worth more as a workman. But don't you see that if all the others were as good as he, he would not be worth more?

Then you see that to tell 1,000,000 men that they will get more work or more wages if they are cleverer, or soberer, or more industrious, is as foolish as to tell the twenty men starting for a race that they can all win if they will all try.

If all the men were just as fast as the winner, the race would end in a dead heat.

There is a fire panic in a big hall. The hall is full of people, and there is only one door. A rush is made for that door. Some of the crowd get out, some are trampled to death, some are injured, some are burned.

Now, of that crowd of people, who are most likely to escape?

Those nearest to the door have a better chance than those farthest, have they not?

Then the strong have a better chance than the weak, have they not?

And the men have a better chance than the women, and the children the worst chance of all. Is it not so?

Then, again, which is most likely to be saved—the selfish man who fights and drags others down, who stands upon the fallen bodies of women and children, and wins his way by force; or the brave and gentle man who tries to help the women and the children, and will not trample upon the wounded?

Don't you know that the noble and brave man stands a poor chance of escape, and that the selfish, brutal man stands a good chance of escape?

Well, now, suppose a man to have got out, perhaps because he was near the door, or perhaps because he was very strong, or perhaps because he was very lucky, or perhaps because he did not stop to help the women and children, and suppose him to stand outside the door, and cry out to the struggling and dying creatures in the burning hall, "Serves you jolly well right if you do suffer. Why don't you get out? I got out. You can get out if you try. There is nothing to prevent any one of you from getting out."

Suppose a man talked like that, what would you say of him? Would you call him a sensible man? Would you call him a Christian? Would you call him a gentleman?

You will say I am severe. I am. Every time a successful man talks as this M.P. talks he inflicts a brutal insult upon the unsuccessful, many thousands of whom, both men and women, are worthier and better than himself.

But let us go back to our subject. That fire panic in the big hall is a picture of life as it is to-day.

It is a scramble of a big crowd to get through a small door. Those who get through are cheered and rewarded, and few questions are asked as to how they got through.

Now, Socialists say that there should be more doors, and no scramble.

But let me use this example of the hall and the panic more fully.

Suppose the hall to be divided into three parts. First the stalls, then the pit stalls, then the pit. Suppose the only door is the door in the stalls. Suppose the people in the pit stalls have to climb a high barrier to get to the stalls. Suppose those in the pit have to climb a high barrier to get to the pit stalls, and then the high barrier that parts the pit stalls from the stalls. Suppose there is, right at the back of the pit, a small, weak boy. Now, I ask you, as sensible men, is there "nothing to prevent" that boy from getting through that door? You know the boy has only the smallest of chances of getting out of that hall. But he has a thousand times a better chance of getting safely out of that door than the son of a crossing-sweeper has of becoming Lord Chancellor of England.

In our hall the upper classes would sit in the stalls, the middle classes in the pit stalls, and the workers in the pit. Whose son would have the best chance for the door?

I compared the race for the Chancellorship just now to a foot-race of twenty men; and I showed you that if all the runners were as fleet as greyhounds only one could win, and nineteen must lose.

But the M.P.'s crossing-sweeper's son has to enter a race where there are millions of starters, and where the race is a handicap in which he is on scratch, with thousands of men more than half the course in front of him.

For don't you see that this race which the lucky or successful men tell us we can all win is not a fair race?

The son of the crossing-sweeper has terrible odds against him. The son of the gentleman has a long start, and carries less weight.

What are the qualities needed in a race for the Chancellorship? The boy who means to win must be marvellously strong, clever, brave, and persevering.

Now, will he be likely to be strong? He may be, but the odds are against him. His father may not be strong nor his mother, for they may have worked hard, and they may not have been well fed, nor well nursed, nor well doctored. They probably live in a slum, and they cannot train, nor teach, nor feed their son in a healthy and proper way, because they are ignorant and poor. And the boy gets a few years at a board school, and then goes to work.

But the gentleman's son is well bred, well fed, well nursed, well trained, and lives in a healthy place. He goes to good schools, and from school to college.

And when he leaves college he has money to pay fees, and he has a name, and he has education; and I ask you, what are the odds against the son of a crossing-sweeper in a race like that?

Well, there is not a single case where men are striving for wealth or for place where the sons of the workers are not handicapped in the same way. Now and again a worker's son wins. He may win because he is a genius like Stephenson or Sir William Herschel; or he may win because he is cruel and unscrupulous, like Jay Gould; or he may win because he is lucky.

But it is folly to say that there is "nothing to prevent him" from winning. There is almost everything to prevent him. To begin with, his chances of dying before he's five years old are about ten times as numerous as the chances of a rich man's son.

Look at Lord Salisbury. He is Prime Minister of England. Had he been born the son of a crossing-sweeper do you think he would have been Prime Minister?

I would undertake to find a hundred better minds than Lord Salisbury's in any English town of 10,000 inhabitants. But will any one of the boys I should select become Prime Minister of England? You know they will not. But yet they ought to, if "there is nothing to prevent them."

But there is something to prevent them. There is poverty to prevent them, there is privilege to prevent them, there is snobbery to prevent them, there is class feeling to prevent them, there are hundreds of other things to prevent them, and amongst those hundreds of other things to prevent them from becoming Prime Ministers I hope that their own honesty and goodness and wisdom may be counted; for honesty and goodness and true wisdom are things which will often prevent a poor boy who is lucky enough to possess them from ever becoming what the world of politics and commerce considers a "successful man."

Do not believe the doctrine that the rich and poor, the successful and the unsuccessful, get what they deserve. If that were true we should find intelligence and virtue keeping level with income. Then the mechanic at 30s. a week would be half as good again as the labourer at 20s. a week; the small merchant, making £200 a year, would be a far better man than one mechanic; the large merchant, making £2000 a year, would be ten times as good as the small merchant; and the millionaire would be too intellectual, too noble, and too righteous for this sinful world.

But don't you know that there are stupid and drunken mechanics, and steady and intelligent labourers? And don't you know that some successful men are rascals, and that some very wealthy men are fools?

Take the story of Jacob and Esau. After Jacob cheated his hungry brother into selling his birthright for a mess of pottage, Jacob was rich and Esau poor. Did each get what he deserved? Was Jacob the better man?

Christ lived poor, a homeless wanderer, and died the death of a felon. Jay Gould made millions of money, and died one of the wealthiest men in the world. Did each get what he deserved? Did the wealth of Gould and the poverty of Christ indicate the intellectual and moral merits of those two sons of men?

Some of us would get whipped if all of us got our deserts; but who would deserve applause and wealth and a crown?

In a sporting handicap the weakest have the most start: in real life the strongest have the start and the weakest are put on scratch.

And I have heard it hinted that the man who runs the straightest does not always win.