basis of charity instead of dogma would suffice—elect
their own managing committee, and set themselves to
the creation of a true community. Let them possess
their own electric plant for heating and lighting;
let every house share the common convenience; and since
domestic labour forms one of the chief difficulties
to-day, let common dining-halls be erected for every
hundred persons, where good and cheap meals could
be provided, or from which such meals could be supplied
to private houses, at the bare cost of their production.
Let it be the aim of these communities to collect
persons of not one trade or profession only, but persons
of varied occupations to compose their citizenship,
so that as many forms of human energy as might be possible
should be represented, each contributing its own element
to the common life. Let all the trades permitted
in the little township be conducted on co-operative
principles, and not for private gain. Let due
provision be made for efficient education, for the
cultivation of the arts, and for the proper means
of pleasure. Would not such a combination of
men and women represent the best ideal of a human
community? And can we not see that in the mere
economy of means and money the gain by such a system
would be immense? Suppose the capitalised value
of such a township, including the purchase of land,
the erection of houses, draining, lighting, and so
forth, were put at a million and a quarter sterling,
which is a generous estimate, this would impose upon
the individual house-holders no more than 40 pounds
per annum, calculated at 4 per cent.; and besides this
he would share in the great economy of co-operative
trading. If this estimate be rejected as inadequate,
it is easy to compute the cost by adding a burden
of 10 pounds per annum to each house-holder for each
quarter of a million expended; but even if the total
charge reached 50 pounds or 60 pounds per annum for
each householder, he would gain immensely in what
he could get for his expenditure, compared with what
he could get for the same money in crowded London.
Such a scheme is simply the application of the principle
of co-operation to communal life. It is not
chimerical; if it seem so, it is simply because we
are so ill-trained in morals that we are unwilling
to act together in practical brotherhood. It
is not impracticable; it might be achieved to-morrow
if we were in earnest over it. There are hundreds
of thoughtful men who have perceived its attractions,
outlined its system, vaguely desired its benefits;
are there not a thousand bold adventurers in London
willing to bring their vague ideal to the test, and
to make a practical experiment which, once successful,
would alter the whole science of living, and go far
to solve some of the most difficult problems of our
time?


