tended to be taken seriously, while in the previous chapter he discusses the means by which the desired state of things may be attained. Perhaps it will be best to deal with the latter point first. Of course the vital question in all socialistic proposals is whether the change from individualism to socialism is to be brought about by peaceable or by violent means, such, for example, as terminated the reign of Charles I. Morris hoped, and all true socialists hope, that the change may be effected without any bloodshed whatever, but he had grave doubts whether this was possible. It depended entirely, he thought, upon the way in which the propositions of the people are met by those who rule. If these proposals are met with contempt, with insolent pride, or with a haughty "I decline to discuss the matter with you," Morris thought that only one result could follow, and he feared that events were only too likely to take this course. In a sentence, Morris thought that there would be revolution as well as evolution in the process of the establishment of socialism.

With regard to the principles which he thought should govern the society of the future, we may at once make a broad distinction, namely, between matters of public government and matters of social life. As for government, he believed in decentralisation as far as possible, that is, that each locality should be allowed to manage its own affairs in its own way, provided that it did not injure, directly or indirectly, the well-being of other communities, as for example, by giving way to individualistic competition. Large councils or parliaments, he thought, should be constituted in conveniently large areas of population, and an international board of arbitration for use between nations, the latter to be turned gradually into an international parliament as the possibility of war became more and more remote.

Greater interest attaches, however, to Morris's views regarding the social life of the future. In the first place, he believed absolutely in the abolition of private property in everything, except only each man's personal "gear," as he loved to call it, that is, the clothing and other small necessaries of no great value which each must have, and which cannot conveniently be used promiscuously. Marriage, in the sense of a bond or tie, was to be abolished, or rather, what amounts to the same thing, marriages were to be dissoluble at the will of either party-a power which would have a wonderful effect in producing civil behaviour between husbands and wives. Women were to be no longer dependent upon men, but were to engage in suitable industries and arts. The houses, he hoped and expected, would be something like the large and comfortable colleges at the older universities, each with its library, kitchen, dining hall, wash-houses, and the like. Machinery was to be restricted to the drudgery of life, and all processes which could be performed with pleasure by human hands were to be so performed, and were, above all, to be rendered doubly pleasurable by the application of art to all objects capable of receiving it.

Morris laid great stress upon the necessity of giving a prominent place to music, and believed that its study and exercise would occupy a large place in the education of the future. Nor was he neglectful of the claims of natural science, although he does not speak much of it, but lets this branch of instruction pass as a matter of course. Morris did not believe that religion, in the ordinary sense of the word, would have any part in the society of the future, for he did not believe in the supernatural in any form. He believed, however, in the skilful cultivation and encouragement of an enthusiasm for unselfish, that is, socialistic behaviour, and he thought that through this

agency man's conscience (i.e., the altruistic instinct which most men have) would for ever develop towards the ideal of perfect friendliness and fellowship. This Cult of Brotherhood, he thought, would be the only religion of the future.

The only gap that, perhaps, exists in Morris's social theories is that he makes no provision for the nurture and housing of the children, for it is clear from other parts of his social system that the modern arrangement, comprehensively known as "the family," is not to be continued. From the fact, however, that he approves of the plan of communal or collegiate houses, we may fairly conclude that he was in favour of public nurseries and other institutions for the nurture, care, and education of children.

To sum up then. It is clear that Morris accepted all the main doctrines of the most advanced kind of modern socialism, though he did not insist upon minute matters of academic or economic detail. He thought, and rightly, that details could only be worked out advantageously as each occasion arose, for it is probable that ponderous attempts to settle everything at the outset almost invariably result in boring and discouraging well-disposed persons, and are not really of any use whatever, provided that general principles are agreed upon. Thus, though Morris was undoubtedly an easy-going type of socialist, it cannot for a moment be denied that he was a professed socialist, and a socialist of the most advanced school.

Now, whatever opinions critics of Morris may hold regarding his views, it is certain that none of them can justly question his honesty. He had nothing to gain, but everything to lose by the open profession of socialism. He, a man of wealth and education, deliberately and constantly pleaded the cause of the poor and the despised, which is what true socialism means. He often declared in

his speeches to working men-"I am a common fellow like you, and I want you to treat me like one of yourselves." His mediæval eccentricities may be easily excused. Undoubtedly he had good reason to prefer, from an artistic point of view, the social life of a sleepy medieval town to the squalor and filth of the poorer parts of modern cities. He more than once gave it as his opinion that in many of our large towns at the present day there were scenes of misery, poverty, starvation, and general wretchedness absolutely without a parallel in the whole of human history, which is probably true.

Can Morris, however, be justly called a leader of socialism? Probably it is not in this character that he will be best known to posterity, though it will never be forgotten that he gave socialism his aid, and that he gave it at a time when the aid of such a man was invaluable and indeed almost indispensable. As an apostle of art, however, it seems that he is likely to be chiefly remembered, for he has succeeded in effecting no less a change than a total revolution (bloodless, happily) in popular ideas of art, more especially in its application to the ornamentation of the interiors of dwellings. No small courage must have been required to enable him to fly straight in the faces of the accepted art-critics of his earlier days. Many and bitter were the sneers and jeers which he and his followers had to endure, and seldom was such treatment merited, except in the case of the hangers-on to the "Morris movement."

Of Morris's courage and good temper the writer remembers to have witnessed a characteristic instance. Morris had been invited to Eton to lecture on Art, no doubt through the influence of Mr. Henry S. Salt, Mr. J. L. Joynes, and other enlightened men who were masters at Eton at that time. The lecture was delivered in

the school library before a crowded assembly of the boys and masters. All went well until Morris ventured to use arguments of a socialistic kind in connection with the history and development of arts and crafts. Immediately there arose a furious storm of hissing and uproar-this, no doubt, having been arranged beforehand. Morris, as an invited guest, would have been justified in showing indignation at such treatment, but he did not do so. He merely folded his arms across his broad chest, and waited until his interruptors were tired. When the din ceased, he continued his sentence exactly where he had left off. Again the noise broke out, and again Morris waited. Once more he continued his sentence, and this time he was not interrupted. It was a signal victory of patience and forbearance over ignorance, prejudice, and rudeness. Of such noble men there are too few. In the future they may be more plentiful, but at present it is difficult, if not impossible, to name any man quite fitted to fill Morris's place.