Estimating these risks at per cent., the remaining 3 per cent. may be considered as the remuneration of capital apart from insurance against loss. On the security of a mortgage 4 per cent. is generally obtained, but in this transaction there are considerably greater risks-the uncertainty of titles to land under our bad system of law; the chance of having to realise the security at a great cost in law charges; and liability to delay in the receipt of the interest, even when the principal is safe. When mere money independently of exertion yields a larger income, as it sometimes does, for example, by shares in railway or other companies, the surplus is hardly ever an equivalent for the risk of losing the whole, or part, of the capital by mismanagement, as in the case of the Brighton Railway, the dividend of which, after having been 6 per cent. per annum, sunk to from nothing to 13 per cent., and shares which had been bought at 120 could not be sold for more than about 43. When money is lent at the high rates of interest one occasionally hears of, rates only given by spendthrifts and needy persons, it is because the risk of loss is so great that few who possess money can be induced to lend to them at all. So little reason is there for the outcry against "usury" as one of the grievous burthens of the working classes. Of the profits, therefore, which a manufacturer or other person in business obtains from his capital no more than about 3 per cent. can be set down to the capital itself. If he were able and willing to give up the whole of this to his labourers, who already share among them the whole of his capital as it is annually reproduced from year to year, the addition to their weekly wages would be inconsiderable. Of what he obtains beyond 3 per cent. a great part is insurance against the manifold losses he is exposed to, and cannot safely be applied to his own use, but requires to be kept in reserve to cover those losses when they occur. The remainder is properly the remuneration of his skill and industry-the wages of his labour of superintendence. No doubt if he is very successful in business these wages of his are extremely liberal, and quite out of proportion to what the same skill and industry would command if offered for hire. But, on the other hand, he runs a worse risk than that of being out of employment; that of doing the work without earning anything by it, of having the labour and anxiety without the wages. I do not say that the drawbacks balance the privileges, or that he derives no advantage from the position which makes him a capitalist and employer of labour, instead of a skilled superintendent letting out his services to others; but the amount of his advantage must not be estimated by the great prizes alone. we subtract from the gains of some the losses of others, and deduct from the balance a fair compensation for the anxiety, skill and labour of both, grounded on the market price of skilled superintendence, what remains will be, no doubt, considerable, but yet, when compared to the entire capital of the country, annually reproduced and dispensed in wages, it is very much smaller than it appears to the popular imaginavion; and were the whole of it added to the share of the labourers it

If

would make a less addition to that share than would be made by any im. portant invention in machinery, or by the suppression of unnecessary distributors and other "parasites of industry." To complete the estimate, however, of the portion of the produce of industry which goes to remunerate capital we must not stop at the interest earned out of the produce by the capital actually employed in producing it, but must include that which is paid to the former owners of capital which has been unproductively spent and no longer exists, and is paid, of course, out of the produce of other capital. Of this nature is the interest of national debts, which is the cost a nation is burthened with for past difficulties and dangers, or for past folly or profligacy of its rulers, more or less shared by the nation itself. To this must be added the interest on the debts of landowners and other unproductive consumers; except so far as the money borrowed may have been spent in remunerative improvement of the productive powers of the land. As for landed property itself the appropriation of the rent of land by private individuals -I reserve, as I have said, this question for discussion hereafter; for the tenure of land might be varied in any manner considered desirable, all the land might be declared the property of the State without interfering with the right of property in anything which is the product of human labour and abstinence.

It seemed desirable to begin the discussion of the Socialist question by these remarks in abatement of Socialist exaggerations, in order that the true issues between Socialism and the existing state of society might be correctly conceived. The present system is not, as many Socialists believe, hurrying us into a state of general indigence and slavery from which only Socialism can save us. The evils and injustices suffered under the present system are great, but they are not increasing; on the contrary, the general tendency is toward their slow diminution. Moreover the inequalities in the distribution of the produce between capital and labour, however they may shock the feeling of natural justice, would not by their mere equalisation afford by any means so large a fund for raising the lower levels of remuneration as Socialists, and many besides Socialists, are apt to suppose. There is not any one abuse or injustice now prevailing in society by merely abolishing which the human race would pass out of suffering into happiness. What is incumbent on us is a calm comparison between two different systems of society, with a view of determining which of them affords the greatest resources for overcoming the inevitable difficulties of life. And if we find the answer to this question more difficult, and more dependent upon intellectual and moral conditions, than is usually thought, it is satisfactory to reflect that there is time before us for the question to work itself out on an experimental scale, by actual trial. I believe we shall find that no other test is possible of the practicability or beneficial operation of So cialist arrangements; but that the intellectual and moral grounds of

Acialism deserve the most attentive study, as affording in many cases the guiding principles of the improvements necessary to give the pres ent economic system of society its best chance.

JOHN STUART MILL, in Fortnightly Review.

CONTENTMENT.

"As having nothing, and yet possessing all things."'

A crazy door, low moaning in the wind,
The beat and patter of the driving rain,

Thin drifts of melting snow upon the floor,

Forced through the patch upon the broken pane.

One chair, a little four-legged stool, a box

Spread with a clean white cloth, and frugal fare,-
This is the home the widow and her lad,

Two hens, and his grey cat and kittens, share.

"Ben, it's full time thee was in bed," she says,
Drawing her furrowed hand across his locks.
"Thee's warmed th' toes enough, the fire won't last,
Pull to th' coat-I'll put away the box.

"Then say th' prayers-that's right, don't pass 'em by,
The time 's ill saved that 's saved from God above,
And doan't forgit th' hymn-thee never has,
And choose a one th' father used to love.

"Now lay 'ee down-here, give the straw a toss,
Don't git beneath the winder-mind the snow-
I like that side-I'll cover 'ee just now,
The boards is by the fire-they're warm, I know.'
No blanket wraps the lithe half-naked limbs,

But love, that teaches birds to rob their breast
To warm their younglings-love devises means
To shield this younging from the bitter east.
The warm boards laid about the weary child,
He turns a smiling face her face towards-
"Mother," he says, soft pity in his tone,
"What do the poor boys do that have no boards ?"

C. C. FRASER-TYTLER, in The Day of Rest

Local Societies: What is their aim and what purpose do they serve? How may this aim be most surely gained? How can this purpose be most effectively carried out? These are questions which naturally arise when considering the subject of local societies.

The aim of every local society should be to raise the intellectual status of the locality. The purpose to do so in that way most generally useful. It is the mind of the community which has to be raised by affecting the minds of the individuals. Individual minds are to be affected by contact with material surroundings. These surroundings influence us through the powers of observation, hence careful and accurate observation must exist among the members of a society fulfilling its proper functions. The greater the number of members exercising such observation the greater the usefulness of the society. It is almost needless to instance other mental qualities as necessary for success, because experience shows that when once the observing faculty has received its due share of attention, the power of using the observations made follows in due course. The faculty of observation must be drawn out and cultivated by contact with matter in relation to man, and by contact with matter considered apart from man as existing in a state of nature. And just as it is important that in the culture of the individual a one-sidedness should be specially avoided, so in raising the culture of a community it is equally important that opportunities or suggestions for mental improvement all round should be afforded. Hence we are inclined to think it advisable that especially in the case of small country towns scientific studies, or suggestions for such, should proceed from the same platform as those studies which are often spoken of as more purely literary. Of course literature includes the records of science, but still for general purposes the meaning is clear when a literary institute or Society is spoken of as distinguished from a scientific. Among the lower types of animals there is a want of specialisation of parts; very different functions may be performed by the same part of the whole of the body; in the higher, specialisation prevails, each function has its own organ, and the function is performed more efficiently. In large towns science may be pursued apart from general literature, and even each special science may stand on its own platform, but in small towns this is out of the question, and I believe unadvisable, for the over-performance of one function in the lowly organised society is checked by the claim of the general body. Moreover, the tastes of a community being naturally various, it becomes essential to present intellectual food of various kinds. Hence we cannot but think that small local societies should be both literary and scientific. The two aspects of culture will support and strengthen each other, and

the introduction of a new clique, or party, or sect be avoided. For it must be remembered that one of the distinct collateral advantages of such societies is that a common platform is provided upon which men of all political or religious beliefs can stand and work together. No one who is acquainted with the social conditions of our small towns can underrate the importance of this.

But how are such societies to work? I would reply, from within, outwards. Not, in the first place, by calling in extraneous help, by engaging eminent men to give courses of lectures, but by arousing the spirit of inquiry and observation amongst the townsfolk. Let but a few natives come forward with short papers on any subjects with which they may be especially acquainted, the subjects being treated in such a way as to elicit a discussion or inquiries, a spirit of interest will soon be aroused, and minds put into a proper attitude for the reception of truths before quite unknown to them, and for the prosecution of some special subject as a study. In practice I would strongly advise the following course to be pursued by any embryo literary and scientific society. Have two classes of meetings: one the ordinary meting, at which members alone (and therefore townsfolk) should read short papers, upon which a discussion should afterwards be encouraged; and public lectures, given mainly by non-residents, and to which the general public should be admitted on the payment of a small fee. At the ordinary meeting the local talent and observation is drawn out, and at the public lecture new subjects are introduced to the notice of members. At the former, notices of local phenomena and history, or the occasional original investigations of members, are recorded; at the latter, new lines of thought are often indicated, or systematic instruction given in some one subject.

A society established on some such basis is then in a position to encourage the collection of objects of local natural history, to establish a local museum, and carry out field excursions during the summer months. Moreover, the experience of many years past has shown me that the life-and therefore the growth of culture-in such a society is far greater than in those cases where only a yearly course of lectures is organised, the greater part of them being given by strangers. Next comes the oft-repeated question, But how long will such a society last? Many are ready to say, We have tried some such plan, and success has attended our efforts for one or two years, and then the society has died out. On this part of the subject a few words will now be said, and the remarks made are founded upon experience gleaned amidst the practical working of local societies in Cumberland during the past nine years.

How, then, can permanence be ensured? In a small town or district local resources and talent are apt to become exhausted or unavailable. A time will surely come when the intellectual movement will wane and the society be on the brink of non-existence. But the very usefulness of such a movement must consist in its stability; there should be a growth, not a bare existence, To insure this stability I suggested some