Aphorisms of Socialism: [VI.] (1912)

From the October 1912 issue of the Socialist Standard

Link to Aphorisms IV & V.

Being an explanation of the Declaration of Principles of the S.P.G.B.

Aphorism VI.

As the machinery of government, including the armed forces of the nation, exists only to conserve the monopoly by the capitalist class of the wealth taken from the workers, the working class must organise consciously and politically for the conquest of the powers of government, national and local, in order that this machinery, including these forces, may be converted from an instrument of oppression into the agent of emancipation and the overthrow of privilege, aristocratic and plutocratic.

The machinery of government is composed of the governing bodies, from Parliament down to the Parish Councillor the Board of Guardians; the instruments of the law, from the Lord Chief Justice down to the “Labour” J. P. and the armed forces, from the army and navy, down to the policeman, the jailor, and the common hangman.

To say that all these exist merely to conserve to the master class the plunder they wrest from the workers, looks, to the man who views things through the glasses the masters provide for him, very much like “drawing the long bow,” but it is nothing of the kind.

It is often argued that the hangman is necessary to square accounts with the murderer of the working-man’s daughter, that the policeman is the sweet little cherub who sits up aloft and keeps watch and ward over the teapot the prosperous proletarian banks his surplus money in.

Well, what if he does? What if the hangman is the only protection of sweet and innocent seventeen? It does not follow, by any means, that this is anything more than an incidental — that is why these appendages of the present social system exist.

As a matter of fact it is in the very nature of the “State” to wear a mask — to assume a physiognomy that is not, in reality, its own. It exists to maintain “order.” That is the fundamental hypocrisy of its existence. It exists in a false atmosphere of impartiality, as something above the division of class interests, and therefore as competent to deal impartially with petty class squabbles.

But first of all it postulates a social condition which is entirely in favour of the class whose instrument it is, and the basis of that social condition in the present day is the private ownership of wealth.

The “order” which the State maintains must be in harmony with that property condition. Anything which is out of harmony with that basis is disorder, and must be suppressed. Therefore, of course, “order” must include the robbery of the working class.

Under that condition the State and its machinery pretends to be the servant of the whole of the people, but it is ridiculous, on the face of it. The fact that some working men have a little money in a teapot, or that the system breeds a certain number of maniacs or desperate beings against whom society at large needs protection, only serves to obscure the real reason for the maintenance of armed forces.

It is not the private property of the workers that the armed forces of the nation exist to protect. It is not even the private property of the master class that it is primarily maintained to conserved. It is the central point, the pivot, of the present social system — the private property institution which is to be protected.

It is this private property institution that is the vital spark of the capitalist organism, hence its preservation unruptured is of incomparably greater importance than the protection of present property from petty pilferers.

As a matter of fact the State is itself an instrument for the violation of private property, as witness the “Death Duties.” One section of the ruling class may use the machinery of the State to plunder another section, and that without straining a joint of it. But every atom of its composition is formed to resist any attack upon the private property institution.

It was shown in an earlier chapter that the basis of society as at present constituted is the ownership by the master class of the means of living. At the time society was placed upon this basis the machinery of production was in a very different stage of development from that to which it has attained to-day. The steam engine was not invented, and machinery was practically unknown.

The vast strides made by the development of the means and instruments of production have brought about a veritable industrial revolution, but the basis of the social system has not shifted one jot. It was ownership by a section of society of the land, material, factories, and implements of production in the beginning of the capitalist system — it is the same to-day.

How could it be otherwise? The very working of the system itself precludes the broadening of the private ownership so as to include all the people, for the steady tendency of competition has been and is to narrow that base by crushing successive circles out.

The only way in which the base can alter is in the direction of common ownership, and in this direction there is no halfway house. Bits of common ownership cannot exist in a world of private ownership by a class. The case is not the same where, even though private ownership is the rule, it takes the form of ownership of the means of production by those who use them instead of by those who do not. In such a system certain portions of the woods and pastures, for instance, might be commonly owned, as indeed they were under feudalism, and people owning their own products would derive benefit from them.

But where the workers have to sell their labour-power in a competitive market in order to live, the benefit of all property, whatever the legal form of property may be, will accrue to the master class. However it may be called, they have control through their system, which determines that the wealth produced by the working class shall surrender the whole of their labour-power to them at the cost of its production.

If there were any possible way in which the social base could be gradually changed from private ownership to common, it is doubtful if all the armed force could prevent that gradual change taking place — but we should have seen a commencement made long ere this. As a matter of fact not one shred of commonly-owned wealth can be pointed to. Our Post Office is under the control of the master class, who use it to sweat profit out of the workers for the relief of the taxpayer, and to provide fat sinecures for their own sons. Even the “nation’s pictures,” and the public parks, are under the control of the capitalist class, who decide how they shall be conducted, and when they shall be opened or closed. The people have nothing at all to say on these matters.

It is quite impossible, therefore, for the base of present-day society to undergo any process of evolution. Society itself does, but the present base of society cannot. It started in the same form that it now possesses, and it must retain that form until it finishes its career. It came in as private ownership by a class, and as private ownership by a class it must go out.

While it is true that in the long run the social system is determined by the stage of development of the means of producing wealth, the social system and this stage of development may, nevertheless, at a given period be totally out of harmony. Indeed, at recurring periods it must be, at least so long as society is divided into classes. The reason is that while the development of the means of production is not under men’s control, the social system, within certain limits, is. The industrial development, which men cannot arrest, is ever shifting the social centre of gravity, changing dominating values. Thus, at one time, whoever controlled the land controlled society. As industry developed, however, the implements and machinery became of greater importance. This change of values brought another class to the surface – the owners of the factories, machinery, and raw materials. But the industrial development which brought to light this new class did not arrange a social system under which they could reach their highest pinnacle of power; it gave them strength by altering the values of the sources of wealth it gave them education by making the stage of development of industry incongruous with the social base. It prepared the way for a social change but the actual work of bringing the social basis into line with the method of production was left to the initiative of the class whose interests demanded it.

And at the same time the old ruling class, whose interest lay in maintaining the system under which they were paramount, opposed the attack upon that system to the utmost,

The social system, then, is within certain limits under the control of men, Each system that permits of class distinctions favours a given class, and that class naturally employs every means to prevent the system from falling.

It is for this purpose that the present ruling class maintain their army, navy, and police. By means of these they hold back social change until the social basis of sectional private ownership has got to be quite out of harmony with the means of producing wealth by social effort. It follows, therefore, that the revolutionary class must dispossess the capitalists of these armed forces before they can change the social basis.

The machinery of government is controlled through Parliament. Parliament provides the money without which no army or navy can be equipped or maintained. Parliament, which pays the piper, calls the tune to which Jack Tar and Bill Adams must dance. The moral is plain : the working class must organise for the capture of Parliament.

When they have possession of this instrument they will have control of the armed forces, and will be in a position to proceed to the abolition of private property in the means of living and the organisation of industry on the basis of common ownership of the machinery of production and of the product.

The organisation must be consciously for this purpose. That is to say, the organised workers must understand thoroughly the object for which they are organising. The strength of the revolutionary party does not depend, in the time of crisis, upon the number who have been voting for fragments “they believe in,” but upon the number who understand what the Revolution means, and whose adherence is founded upon this understanding.

What is the position of the man who has voted with the Socialist party because he thought they stood for, say, nationalisation of the land, which he believes in, when he finds that they do not stand merely for that by itself, but for the abolition of private property in every social necessary ? He withdraws, and discouragement is bred of his defection. But suppose large numbers have been induced to give support to an object that they do not understand, and therefore cannot believe in, what is the position of a party attempting to take revolutionary action on such a miscalculation of strength? The result might very well be disaster.

Even if it were no worse than a fluctuation of strength at the polls, that would be sufficiently disastrous to condemn such pandering to ignorance, for Socialism must have no backwash, but must clearly indicate, in every trial of strength, the steady advance which is inevitable to it.

But there is another and vastly more momentous reason why the Socialist organisation must be free from political ignorance.

One of the most fruitful causes of working-class apathy in political matters in the past few years has been the way in which so-called Labour leaders have neen bought over by the master class.

A sort of wholesale instance of this is the present Labour (!) Party in the House of Commons. In order to attach to themselves the vote of “organised Labour,” which was raising a cry for a party representing working class interests as the “organised workers” understood them, the Liberals assisted certain “Labour” candidates to scrape into Parliament in divisions where a split vote between “Labourites” and Liberals would let in the Tory.

The result is that “organised Labour” is treated to the spectacle of a “Labour” party putting down amendments that they dare not move for fear the Tories should side with them and defeat the Liberal Government.

There is only one safeguard against this sort of treachery. The working-class party must build-up its strength only on the votes of those who understand the working-class position and working class politics. If this is done the master class will realise that they are up against democracy: that the representative is only the representative; that the “rank and file” crule the roost, and that as the elected person cannot switch votes to one side or another he has nothing to sell. In such case they will realise that all there is left for them to do is to fight him.

All the reasons here set forth demand the utmost clarity of issue. Only the revolutionary is a fit instrument to work for Revolution. It would be placing the Socialist Party in a false position to have them occupying seats to which they had been elected by the votes of those who were not revolutionists , for in the first place they would have to pander to these un-class-conscious voters in order to retain their seats; secondly they would be unable to obey the commandments of their revolutionary coadjutors, for if they did it would involve the alienation of those who did not stand for revolution.

The revolutionary and the reformer are as far as the poles are asunder. The one stands for the abolition of what the other clings to. It is folly, then, to attempt to unite the two in one political organisation. Each must fight for his interest as he understands it – therefore they must fight each other. The place for the reformer is in the master’s camp, for however they may differ as to matters of detail, they do agree to the fundamental point – the necessity for the maintenance of the present system.

It is the duty, then, of Socialists to see that the workers organise consciously for the revolution. To this end they must keep the issue clear. They must do all they can to discourage those who do not understand the meaning of revolutionary politics from attaching themselves to them, either through the political party or through the ballot. They must at all times clearly put forward the principles of Socialism, asking only for the acceptance of those principles. Anyone who intelligently accepts those principles will need no inducement in the way of vaporous promises of reform and palliation. He becomes part of the revolutionary movement, an atom of vital force helping to push it along, instead of an addition to the dead-weight of ignorance and apathy which retards the progress of any forward movement.

Let us stand for Socialism alone, then, without obscuring our teaching and our object with other issues, and therefore without lumbering our backs with paralytics who cannot walk and who won’t be carried. Thus only can we build up a political organisation composed of the sound, healthy material necessary for our purpose. Thus only can we base our actions upon exact knowledge of our strength.

A.E. Jacomb

On Trade Journalism. (1912)

From the October 1912 issue of the Socialist Standard

By a Trade Paper I mean one published in the interests of a particular trade. Trade journals nowadays are as the sands on the seashore in number. Every trade, and often different branches of one trade, possesses its weekly advocate. The leather, boot and shoe, china, hardware, drapery, grocery, building— no trade is there but what has the asset of a trade paper.

These sheets have quite a respectable circulation, and form an important part of many large publishing businesses.

Trade papers typify humbug in its quintessence ; they give us the limit in parochialism, the extreme in self centered selfishness. The critic of capitalism, the scoffer at humanity, the lover of “unconscious” humour, all can be satisfied by a perusal of the trade journals. They will delight anyone who desires to see in the concrete an example of the divorce between a capitalist’s business and his Sabbath texts, between his weekday transactions and his Sunday jawing of the Litany.

Who does not enjoy the reference by a trade paper to a rival as “our esteemed contemporary” ? Who does not relish the wriggling by the owners of them betwixt the interests of their subscribers and those of the manufacturing capitalists who contribute the advertising revenue of the paper? Who is so dense as not to kick when the journal of the boot and shoe trade preaches on the immorality of drapers who brazenly sell boots, who leave their “legitimate” sphere and encroach on the boot dealers’ “sphere of influence?'’

A trade paper depends for its profits upon its advertising revenue; its value as an advertising medium depends, again, on its circulation among retail dealers. And the holding of the balance ’twixt the manufacturer and the retailer, the conciliation of their apparent rival interests, creates many a satirical smile on the face of the student of the machinery of capitalism. At a time of advancing prices, when the paper baa to defend the capitalists who form its advertising asset against suspicion of greed, and at the same time lull the tempers of the retailers who form its subscription list—then see how the wise editor finds arguments to support his position, as arguments can be found to support any position!

Penny-a-liner! The word properly names thousands of journalists enroled as the white-washers of capitalists. Business journals, like their “political” companions, find work for thousands of penmen who have no more belief in the creations of their pens than they have in — well, the sincerity of their political bosses. Were not the mercenaries of the camp more human, and did not they possess more socially useful qualities than do the mercenaries of the pen? We are no militants, but the decadence which Wordsworth foresaw when “swords gave way to ledgers" is here and now depicted in our modern mercenary business Press and organisation.

Abstract Morality! What havoc does a financial or a trade paper make with such theological thimblerigging! Such papers have at the least these things to do: To defend the story of the patient, intelligent capitalist, and the erratic, foolish workman; to reconcile the interests of producing advertisers and distributing subscribers ; to be independent on the fiscal question ; to know the exact spot where one trade commences to encroach on another ; to condemn vigorously all new-fangled ideas such as mail order businesses and cash on delivery systems, all of which are, forsooth, forms of “illegitimate” competition.

And although thousands of journalists and advertising hacks depend for their bread upon such journals, clerical jokers have the effrontery to gabble about a morality independent of productive systems, time or place, and of the possibility of capitalism being moralised; worse, even secularists, positivists and labourists believe such stuff, believe that humans can be made altruists and social when their very physical existence depends upon the facility with which they can put their tongues in their cheeks.

And with the death of capitalism what? Anti-Socialist mercenaries predict the decadence of mental life; the journalist will be the servile menial of “State bosses,” the hypocritical mouthpieces of a gang in temporary power !

Bat there can be no justification of such trifling argument, for when a journalist or author is in a position to say: “Looking forward to life’s end I can safely say I shall never want bread ”; when humans are all assured that decent material existence upon which to build up the higher things of life, surely ordinary human nature will score any suggestion of the systematic hypocrisy which personates to-day the name of journalism. When distribution is the result of a common-sense organisation in a free community, there will be no need for the inane puffs which disfigure the pages of trade journals and newspapers; when such words as retailer and wholesaler have become relics of the past, the parasitic journalism which is based upon their relationships and antagonisms will also surely die. Contemporary journalism is based upon modern business methods, upon that type of production and distribution which we call capitalism, so when capitalism bites the dust its sordid "literary” manifestation will also vanish. Talented artists ought not to waste their energies in selling pills, nor able writers and organisers in puffing obvious catch-pennies. When men and women can live leisurely and fully, with freedom to express their convictions, it is not much to believe of human nature that they will receive with surprise and resentment any suggestions of mental hypocrisy.

John A. Dawson

The Working-Class Position: A Personal Chin-wag. (1912)

From the October 1912 issue of the Socialist Standard

It is often said that the civilised man cannot understand the savage. If this is true (and of its truth there can be little doubt) it is at all events not altogether surprising. The more surprising, and not less correct, statement is that the civilised man does not understand— himself.

It may be as correct to say that the savage does not understand the civilised man; but the ironical element of the situation is that the “superior” being (to remove any doubt I had better say that by this I mean the civilised man) not only has to see the savage through the savage’s eyes in order to understand him, but he has to see himself through the savage’s eyes in order to understand himself.

The outlook of the savage upon life, and his “inlook” upon himself, can only be understood by the civilised man through the reconstruction of the social system in which the savage lives. Only after doing this; only after building up anew the social system based upon the free and common access to all the sources of wealth and the free and common enjoyment of the social wealth, is it possible to realise the self-abnegation, the sinking of the individual in the community, which is characteristic of the mentality of the savage and the barbarian.

On the other hand, so accustomed has the civilised man become to the life he is living, so perfectly do his conceptions of things as they ought to be fit in with things as they are, that all the unfitness and inconsistencies and incongruities of his environment are hidden from his sight.

If he could only realise that things as they are make his conceptions of thing as they ought to be! If he could only understand that, in order to perceive things as they are he must view them from the place where they are not! If he could only grasp the fact that before he can conceive things  as they ought to be,” he must release his mind from the rusty fetters of things as they are!

An ethnologist of sufficient standing to get his bread buttered on both sides and round the crust by the approved capitalist method of “skating on the surface” of his science, has told us concerning the North American Indians, that they could not be induced to work steadily for wages; they laboured for a time, but would suddenly become tired of it, and would rather sacrifice what they had earned than continue to work a day or two longer and complete their contract. This was a mystery to the “scientist,” but it should be illuminating for the civilised man who is willing to stand in the savage’s shoes in order to understand himself.

In the savage mind the selling of one’s energies to another is prostitution of the vilest kind, and a thing not to be contemplated without disgust—and who can say that he is not right? ,

The savage may have his hardships, but he is a free man. However hardly the seasons may press him, or the elements contest his right to exist, while he does exist he lives. All that is good in nature is his in abundance, with the single exception of food. He has room to live in, and he has time to live. For him the sweet breezes blow fresh and untainted, and the scented dawn ushers the day of joyous life. His work is performed in the sun and air of open day, and no stingy balance is struck between what he has consumed and the power he has gained from it. Only when the seasons have been unpropitious and niggard does he know want, and anxiety as to his livelihood is foreign to him, for all his hard poverty and his slender resources.

The savage views his strength, his skill, his courage, as sacred to the purpose of making the most of life; as social assets contributory to the social welfare, and one holding that view can hardly do other than regard the man who gives over his strength and skill to another for a price as a prostituted person and scorn him as such.

This view is the correct one. notwithstanding that our “high civilisation” does not permit us to perceive it save through the fresh, dear vision of primitive man. Think! The strength of human muscles, the intelligence of the human brain, have been wrought out of untold ages of strife with the external world, the human struggle for a living. They have been perfected through an appalling space of evolution in order to make a bed of roses for the chemical compound which controls them. But from this high purpose they have been diverted. They have been sacrificed to Mammon—the historic mactation before which all others pale.

Yes, so low have the strength of human muscles and the intelligence of the human brain fallen in the hey-day of our “high civilisation,” that they are devoted to the base end of increasing existing values, of producing profit for a class of absorbant, but nevertheless inactive, chemical compounds, who would soon resolve into their simple elements if they were left to their own resources.

O! foul prostitution!

* * *

What this prostitution means to the victims of it strangely enough they are the last to perceive. They give up every joy of life in order to gain bare half rations. While they pour out their heart’s blood in a torrent of wealth for others to riot and exult in, they sink to the floor of their threshing dens overwhelmed with the grain they produce but may not eat, and perish for want of the wealth in which they are buried.

When some novelist paints with vivid touch the wretched Roman slaves toiling in the wheel, and muzzled in order that they shall not eat the flour they are grinding, the modem toiler feels cold-footed spiders running over his face. Yet his own position is very much the same. The muzzle is exchanged for blinkers, but he still painfully grinds the corn which he may not eat; he still wears his life out in unrequited labour, i and drains the cup of misery to the very last I bitter dregs.

* * *

Fellow workers, you can only live once. Ask yourselves how you are spending that one life which you may spend. Ask yourselves how much of that life you spend upon yourselves, and how much upon those who hold you in their grip in order to batten upon you, as the ant battens upon the aphis which it “cultivates.”

What do you know of the sun and fresh air? There are 168 hours in a week, and lucky you if you have for six or eight of those hours “a place in the sun.” The rest of the time you are either slaving or recuperating. One hour in twenty, one day in twenty, one year in twenty: —that is your lot and portion in your own life. You exist for thirty years, on the average, and you “live" for eighteen months!

O! those eighteen months of crowded delirium. overshadowed as they are by the pinching poverty which requites toil, and the anxiety of caring for the morrow; purchased as they are with so many years of weary effort and hopeless drudgery; drenched as they are with the blood of murdered hopes and wet with tears: are they worth it? are they worth it? are they worth it?

When I hear an old man of the working class, whose life has been cast in the common groove of those about him. whose back has bent to the common burden, and whose hair has whitened in the common woe—when I hear such a man declare that he has not had enough of it and more than enough, and wish himself young again, then I will say, yes, perhaps they may be worth it.

* * *

Where is the need for all this grinding, wearing. anxious poverty? The savage never knew it. He starved only in the rare and exceptional season of dearth. The barbarian who came after him, and the early husbandman who ploughed with slow oxen, and sowed broadcast, and threshed out the summer’s grain with a flail in the dull days of the winter; who spun each thread of yarn for his clothes through his fingers, and shot the shuttle for every strand for his wearing—these never knew the anxious care and stint in which the modern worker fashions his strength into wealth for others' keeping.

The average wheat crop in medieval England was four bushels an acre, and it was garnered with great labour—the average crop at the present day is thirty two bushels, prepared for with the steam plough, the Darby Digger, and (latest word in such matters) the motor plough; sown with the seed-drill, hoed with the horse hoe and cultivator; cut and tied with the reaper and self-binder; threshed out and winnowed and cleaned and sacked by the threshing machine. Yet the sickle and the flail gave the workers plenty to eat and abundant leisure, while all these aids to easy production have brought them only unceasing drudgery and starvation.

Why is it ?

* * *

The cause is very simple: the means of living have fallen into the possession of a few. As a result the others are compelled to prostitute themselves by selling their labour-power. For this they receive as much as it costs to produce. But this amount is almost constant, hence all the benefit of the improved machinery and methods goes to the employing class. And the growing surplus which the workers produce, which they are unable to buy back and consume because it it surplus—because it is product exceeding what they are paid—this surplus heaps up in the warehouses and gluts the markets, and then workers are thrown out of work because they have produced too much.

The evil does not stop here. As a constant succession of workers are thrown in the streets to starve, they, clamouring at the factory gates for employment, compel those in work to work longer and harder and for less money than ever. So in the end the machinery has only fixed toil more surely upon the worker, and confirmed him in his poverty.

* * *

There is only one escape for the workers. They must take possession of the means of producing wealth and use them to satisfy their needs and to lighten their labour. They must decline to be the beasts of burden of an idle class, and must demand that all able-bodied adults within such limits of age as may be found necessary, shall contribute their share to the necessary work of satisfying the social needs.

Why should any able person escape the labour of supporting himself or herself? Why should any class be permitted to throw on another class the burden of supporting them? The colossal impudence of it is overwhelming.

The way lies through the capture of political power, by means of which the master class retain their hold upon the means of production. It is through Parliament that the Army, Navy, and Police are controlled, hence Parliament must be captured by the working class. Having secured control of the armed forces production and distribution must be organised on a new basis—a basis of common ownership of both the means and the product. Then production will continue as long as goods are needed, instead of only so long as they can be sold.

That system of society is Socialism. Study Socialism and work for it.

A. E. Jacomb

“Socialism in Paddington” (1912)

From the October 1912 issue of the Socialist Standard

Under the above heading a somewhat demoralising discussion has been carried on in the columns of the local Press, during which the S.P.G.B. in general and the Paddington Branch in particular have been favoured with the biased opinions of certain "well-educated, reasonable people," such being duly appreciated and assessed at their true value.

Undoubtedly much of this anonymous animosity was created by the wilful misrepresentation and historical lies that the cunning Anti Socialist and his co-partner, the Christian Socialist (!) are endeavouring to spread in this locality of extremes. In particular, a "Socialist" curate has been making himself conspicuous in that devilish direction by attempting to discredit our party by stating that "the S.P.G.B. is an obscure little sect, numbering (at the most) some 200 members in the whole of Great Britain."

As several supporters of our propaganda enquired whether such was true, a letter from the present writer was published in the local Press, in which it was pointed out that if the membership of the S.P.G.B. did not exceed 100 that of itself would not prove that the Party's principles were wrong.

It is clear that this genial cleric pinned his faith to numbers and not principles, and that his conception of a Socialist body is one that commences its career with a million members and dwindles down to a few choice spirits to perpetuate the species.

The sycophantic attitude of these "Socialistic" sky-pilots becomes apparent upon reflection. They are Anti-Socialist spies seeking to permeate the Socialist movement with the chloroform of a dead religion. It is all humbug to say that Socialism is based upon Christianity or "the Sermon on the Mount," because neither Theism nor Atheism can be the basis of a social system.

Another correspondent put forward the suggestion that the time had arrived when their united energies should be concentrated against "the only party worth talking about; the party of revolutionary Socialists ; the S.P.G.B." He proposed immediate action being taken to smash the branch up, because he felt convinced that when the S.P.G.B. citadel has been demolished and the rubbish cleared away, the Socialist movement in Paddington will cease to be a fighting force, and will gradually fade.

This hostile announcement acted like a tonic on the branch, who replied by advertising a series of lectures on Socialism at the "Prince of Wales," Harrow Road. It was proclaimed that our object in holding these lectures was to give citizens an opportunity to discuss the question of Socialism and all its implications, and we invited opponents to attend and submit questions, or state their case against us from the platform. With what result ? The week's mission was a great success. Large and attentive audiences listened to the exposition of Socialism, and the collections and sales of literature were very good. And from the enquiries that were made concerning the party the branch confidently expects an increased membership.

Our Secretary is at all times ready to enlighten any wage-worker who is desirous of joining the Socialist Party. If there is any doubt or difficulty that wants explaining, now is the time to have such matters cleared up. Our branch meeting is held for that purpose among others, and we cordially invite our fellow workers in Paddington to bestir themselves, throw off the shackles of superstition and ignorance, and join with us in securing our emancipation from the thraldom of capitalism by the institution of Socialism.

Ben Carthurs