Let us see what the Socialists themselves—the more frank and honest kind of Socialists—have to say about this matter.

Deville in “Socialism, Internationalism and Revolution,” says: “After deducting from the product a portion to take the place of taxes, a portion to replace the labor consumed, one to extend the scale of production, one to insure against disasters, as floods, winds, lightning, etc., one to support the incapable, one for administration, one for sanitation, one for education, etc., the producers of both sexes will distribute the balance among themselves in proportion of the quantity of ordinary labor respectively furnished.”

Mrs. Besant, in “Fabian Essays” (p. 163), has very similar ideas upon this point. She says:

“Out of the value of the communal produce must come rent of land payable to the local authorities, rent of plant needed for working of industries, wages advanced and fixed in the usual way, taxes, reserve fund, accumulation fund, and the other charges necessary for the carrying on of the communal business. All these deducted, the remaining value should be divided among the communal workers as a ‘bonus.’”

A “bonus”? Yes, but would there be any bonus? These who are familiar with the history of the labor movement in France will naturally recall Louis Blanc’s unfortunate experiment with the National workshops.

In 1848 the Provisional Government issued a proclamation engaging to guarantee work to all citizens and promising to put an end to the sufferings of workmen by decreeing the formation of a permanent Commission for the workers.

Louis Blanc, who was at the head of this movement to abolish all profits of capital and to establish the perfect equality of all workers “without considering skill or activity,” developed the National Workshops scheme. At first the workmen threw themselves into the project with great heartiness, even working overtime; but this was merely a temporary condition. To aid the great tailoring workshop, the government gave it an order to provide 25,000 uniforms for the National Guard. The building in which the work was conducted was provided absolutely free of cost and the government advanced all the capital required in the experiment. The price agreed upon was to be eleven francs per uniform. Each of the 1,500 workmen was given two francs a day as “subsistence money,” and was promised his pro rata share in the profits.

But there were no profits. Instead, the uniforms actually cost, when finished, sixteen francs apiece, and the government had to stand the loss. You may read the whole story of the commercial disaster which the attempt to introduce collective ownership brought upon France. The experiment ended in a panic such as the nation had never known, and the revolt of the workmen which followed was suppressed by the troops only after 10,000 persons had been killed or wounded.

Don’t you think that I am right when I say that it will take something more than the mere assertion of a Deville or an Annie Besant to persuade a sane and sensible people that collective ownership is more practical to-day than it was some sixty years ago?

The admissions that these Socialists have made seem conclusively frank; yet Richardson, in “Industrial Problems” (p. 179), gives us a concrete example that may throw an additional sidelight upon the situation. He says: