No one now questions the propriety of a Government providing free education for children, but in England a father, no matter how well qualified, may now be prosecuted for educating his child himself rather than sending him to a Government school to be fed as well as taught.
At the Marylebone Police Court a well known journalist and writer on education was summoned by the Education Department of the London County Council some time ago for neglecting to send his four children to school. He was, himself, an old and experienced teacher with credentials from one of the colleges of Cambridge University. He did not believe in sending his children to school until they reached the age of ten or eleven, but meanwhile he taught them himself, viva voce in the open air, according to the system of Froebel and Pestalozzi, and endeavored to make education a delight. This was the father's chief occupation and he devoted as much time as possible to training all the mental faculties, without exhausting the nervous force or injuring the physical health, of his children. The eldest, a boy of fourteen, had contributed an article to one of the leading magazines which was pronounced by a competent editor of another periodical to be an extraordinary effort for a boy of his age. It appeared that he knew Shakespeare well and was in the habit of quoting him and other poets, but that his brother, aged eleven, preferred Wordsworth. He considered the English language "awkward," French "euphonious" and German "rationally spelt." It was rather a relief to find another brother, aged nine, who was deep in "Robinson Crusoe." A school-attendance officer, however, had reported that the children did not attend the elementary schools and the magistrate imposed fines upon the father, but, upon it appearing that he had no property, he was sentenced to imprisonment for seven days in respect of the Shakespearean, and five days each to cover the lover of Wordsworth and the student of Defoe. A month later the father was summoned before a different magistrate in the same police court who fined him in respect of the youngest child and adjourned the hearing in order that the other three might be examined by a government inspector to ascertain whether they were being efficiently educated. This episode may not have been typical, but that it was possible in modern England illustrates how out of date is the old-fashioned conception of the personal liberty and freedom from governmental intrusion which once characterized that Island as distinguished from the Continent.
These are but examples of a series of surrenders to the proletariat, which have practically delivered over the general Government of England to the collectivists; while the education and training of many of the party managers who are responsible for it, renders incredible the excuse that they may be only fanatics.
Simultaneously, municipal socialism has spread in a manner affecting the public even more intimately. Over three fourths of the Councils—County, Town, Urban District and Rural District—are engaged in municipal trading of various kinds, operating inefficiently and generally at a loss, such enterprises as golf links, steamboats, concert halls, motor busses, markets, trams, bath houses, gas works, libraries, telephones, milk depots, electric lighting, lodging houses, building operations, insurance—and a host of other undertakings heretofore left to private initiative.
All this means an ever increasing army of officials, agents and inspectors. The interference of a paternal government is threatened or felt in every detail of existence. The people have learned to agitate collectively for advantages to be taken from some classes and distributed to others. Without a constitution (for the so-called English Constitution is but a misnomer for former laws and decisions which are subject to constant repeal and alteration) and without a Supreme Court capable of declaring wild legislation to be unconstitutional—for every act of Parliament becomes a law which can never be challenged in any court—there is no brake to retard, and the politicians of all shades are left free to compete in casting one vested right after another to the mob in quest of votes.
The most serious effect of all this is, probably, the tendency to weaken that sturdy self-reliance upon individual effort which has always characterized Englishmen, and the encouragement of an attitude of leaning upon the Government and of looking to legislation to remove all difficulties. No popular disturbance is impending—it is unnecessary, for the revolution progresses smoothly and the whole country is adjusting itself to the new order of things. The possessors of property seem singularly resigned, or at least inarticulate, and submit almost in silence to spoliation. Such opposition as exists takes chiefly the form of party controversy upon details, and criticism by each faction of the steps of the other. Few seem to realize how far the country has departed from its former standards or that the most moderate proposals of to-day were radical yesterday.
It is a great race, this Anglo-Saxon, and it has shown wonderful capacity to govern itself in the past. It may prove to be wisely meeting half way an approaching avalanche of worldwide socialism destined to modify the existing order of society. Or can it be that England has seen its best days?
One thing, at least, is sure—the United States is at the moment infinitely more conservative than England. Both are pure democracies, and therefore if the people should be resolved to abolish the rights of property as we at present know them, it would inevitably be accomplished. That the majority are really of that mind in either country is more than doubtful; but in England the politicians seem to be destroying that which it has taken centuries to build up, whereas in America this could not happen unless the conviction was so widespread, determined and permanent, as to accomplish what is apparently impossible—the radical amendment of the Constitution.
This digression into the field of politics is only relevant in its possible effect upon the courts. They, at present, necessarily exist in an atmosphere of confusion and of constant annihilation of rights. The head of the whole administration of law, the Lord Chancellor, is a political appointee changing with the parties. He appoints the other judges, the King's Counsel and, directly or indirectly, he is the great source of legal advancement. True, he has for a long time been selected from the leaders of the Bar so that he has been professionally well qualified. But this was not always the case and it is not necessarily a permanent condition, especially in a country passing through such fundamental changes.
Time alone will show whether these violent shocks will disturb the balance of the scales of justice. For the future, realizing that England is no longer conservative, but is now the land of startling experiment, it would be at least prudent to accept its political and legal precedents with caution.