Art and Socialism.
The matter which we are about to consider is not one about which I feel myself peculiarly competent to speak, but it is at least one which many people regard as of very great, if not of supreme importance, and one to which comparatively little really careful attention has been paid either by the opponents of Socialism or by its advocates. It is true that many upholders of the present capitalistic system talk in a vague sort of way about Socialism being destructive of Art, without ever making any attempt to support the statement by serious argument. It is also true that most Socialists speak (equally vaguely) about the "Wonderful Art of the Coming Age"; but they, too, seem to be somewhat diffident about emerging from the region of bald assertion. Of course a few of them (I rather fancy Bellamy was one of these) make imbecile suggestions in favour of some sort of State bureau for the discovery and encouragement of artists; but apart from these and from one or two men like Morris, who have really shed a great deal of light on the question, the majority of writers confine themselves almost entirely to the consideration of the economic, political and ethical aspects of Socialism. Even the Fabian Society, that Universal Provider of propagandist tracts, has not condescended to emit as much as one meagre little pamphlet on Art. So I shall not be bothered, and you will not be bored by a continual cascade of reference to an avalanche of authorities. Nevertheless it is a great pity, that some qualified person does not devote himself to a full inquiry into the relations between the prosperity of Art and the economic structure of society; as the publication of such an inquiry might be the means of bringing into our movement many men and women who, through an apathy towards what they regard as a purely bread-and-butter issue, have hitherto remained outside.
Perhaps the least unsatisfactory mode in which one may deal with this long matter in this short space will be to take the chief contentions on the subject which are used by our opponents, to analyse them, and, in so doing, to use them as pegs whereon to hang any general observations that one may feel moved to make. The recipe for the making of these objections would appear to be a simple one. It is this:—"Think of any conditions which you
