On the other hand, there is no doubt that when we come to more complex cases, in which land is held in large masses, fenced in, not by the natural right of a man to the produce of his own exertions, but by artificial legal systems of inheritance and settlement, we are on neutral ground, where fair discussion is possible as to the limitations and conditions under which the State may afford its protection. Landed property is more the creature of law, and runs greater risks in case of revolution or communistic legislation, than personal property, which is more easily concealed or transferred. It is not unreasonable, therefore, that it should pay a higher insurance in the form of taxation, and especially when it passes by inheritance or settlement, when the new owner’s title is to a great extent artificial and the creation of the law. No one can dispute the abstract justice of a succession duty on all property, landed or personal, in proportion to its amount, passing by operation of law: the only question can be as to the amount, and the expediency of confining it within limits that shall not trench on confiscation or impair the desire to accumulate capital. And in the case of land, there is no doubt that there are a good many instances in which the question of the ‘unearned increment’ is raised more forcibly than in the case of ordinary property. Take a practical instance within my own knowledge, for an illustration is often better than an argument. There was a mountain property in Wales which, as a sheep or cattle farm, might be worth at the outside 800l. a year. Coal and iron were discovered under it, capitalists sank pits and erected works, two or three sets lost their money; but the works were carried on, a large amount of labour was employed, and in course of time a town of some eight or nine thousand inhabitants, sprang up. The proprietor’s 800l. a year grew into 8,000l. from fixed rents and royalties, which he has enjoyed for the last thirty years, through good times and bad, without being called on to contribute a penny towards schools, churches, roads, sewers, water, or any of the local objects necessary for the civilised existence of the population of eight thousand whose labour has added to his wealth. I do not blame him: the law told him to do what he liked with his own, and it probably never occurred to him that he was under any moral obligation to go beyond the law. But I do think that the law would have been more just, and better for the interests of the community, if it had made some portion of this unearned increment of 7,000l. a year liable for a contribution towards the sanitary and other objects essential for the decent existence of the town which had grown up on this property and given it this increased value. I cannot help thinking that centuries of landlord legislation, and of a public opinion based mainly on that of the wealthy and specially of the landed classes, have made our laws in many respects too favourable to the predominant interests, and that the swing of the pendulum now is, and properly is, in the direction of recognising the duties as well as the rights of property.

We must take care, however, not to let it swing too far in this direction, for of the two evils it is better to put up with occasional cases of hardship and oppression on the part of bad landlords than to endanger the security of property by reforms pushed to extremes at the dictation of impulsive masses, designing demagogues, or sentimental philanthropists.

Herbert Spencer, in his works on Sociology, often dwells with great force on the evils which arise from State interference. There can be no doubt that it is very undesirable that the State should become a sort of Jack-of-all-trades, and undertake branches of business which can be conducted by private enterprise. It is undesirable for two reasons: first, because the work is certain to cost more and be worse done; secondly, for the still more important reason that it tends to extinguish individual enterprise, strangle progress with red-tape, and teach a nation to look, like children to outside guidance, rather than, like men to their own. Still the question has two sides. Whatever individual enterprise can do should be left to it; but there are, in the complex conditions of modern society, a number of things which cannot be done by individuals, and which must either be left undone or done by the State, or by some local authority, joint-stock company, or other quasi-monopoly sanctioned by the State. Thus, if it were a question of bringing coals from Newcastle by sea, no one would suggest that the State should interfere with the private enterprise of individual shipowners. But to bring them by land requires railways, and railways can only be built by capitals beyond the reach of private individuals. If the State had not delegated a portion of its powers to joint-stock companies, not a ton of coal would ever have been brought by land to London.

And if the State may thus occasionally delegate its powers with advantage to the community, there are cases in which it may, with equal advantage, undertake itself branches of the nation’s business. For instance, the Postal Service. The advantages of a cheap and uniform system for the collection and delivery of letters throughout the whole kingdom are so great that they far outweigh any theoretical objections to State interference. Possibly some of the larger towns might have been as well or better served by private enterprise, but no non-paying district would have had a post-office, and the enormous commercial and educational benefits of the penny post would have been in a great measure lost to the community.

The case of telegraphs is not so clear. Probably, on the whole, the advantages of a uniform State management preponderate, but there are drawbacks which make it doubtful. Even at a sixpenny rate a great deal of the telegraphic communication of the large towns and active centres of business is taxed to make up for the deficiency of the rest of the kingdom. And invention and improvement in telegraphy are no doubt checked to a considerable extent by creating a State monopoly whose first duty it is to try to satisfy its masters at the Treasury by making the system pay.

When we come to railways we are on debateable ground, and it is fairly arguable that they should be worked by the State for the public good. But the objections here outweigh the advantages. Every one who has any practical experience of the working of railways must be aware that the simplicity and uniformity of the penny postal system are totally inapplicable, and that the traffic of the country requires, above all things, great freedom and elasticity in meeting, day by day, the varying contingencies which arise. Here is an illustration: In a certain town in France, on a railway worked by the State, it was determined to have a fête in order to raise funds for a hospital, and, as an attraction, to bring down from Paris a small troop of actors and have a play in the evening. The question turned on the railway consenting to give them a reduced fare for the return journey. The manager of the railway was quite willing, but said that he had no power to alter the tariff without permission from the Minister of Public Works. The permission was applied for, and the result was that it arrived exactly on the day twelve months after the fête had been held.

Contrast this with the case of the general manager of the London and North Western Railway sitting in his office at Euston and receiving half a dozen telegrams asking him to quote special rates, one perhaps for beef from Chicago to London, another for emigrants from Hamburg to New York via Liverpool, and all requiring telegraphic answers then and there, if the business is to be done at all.

Again, if railways had been in the hands of the State, I do not suppose that we should have had half our present mileage; for the Treasury would never have sanctioned the outlay of public money on lines which could not show the prospect of a fair return on the capital, and it would have vetoed any multiplication of trains or reduction of rates which threatened loss to the exchequer. I can speak with some authority on this point, for I have been both Chairman of a railway company and Secretary of the Treasury, and I am certain that, in the former capacity, I have introduced important innovations, such as excursion trains and cheap periodical tickets, by which the public have greatly benefited, which I should have vetoed in the latter capacity.

Still there may be exceptional cases, as that of Ireland, where an unreasonable number of poor companies, in a poor country, wrangling among themselves, and giving a bad service at an excessive cost, intensify social and political evils, where the arguments in favour of a State purchase may outweigh the objections; and the extent and nature of State control over British railways is always a question fairly open to discussion.

In other departments, the supply of articles such as water and gas, and the enforcement of sanitary conditions, are probably best left to local authorities: in the latter case, under some central supervision to see that the duty is not evaded. Wherever neglect involves danger to others, as in the case of small-pox and other contagious epidemics, it is clear that the decision cannot be left to individuals, and the State is bound to interfere to enforce rational precautions.