the best healthiness of their condition, to be obliged continually to resort to the effort of thought in order to elevate their mood. Artists might have, we think, a very decided mission in the advanced education of our time, if they realised the seriousness of such a mission.3

Never, it would seem, was there a time when life required the rounding harmonious influence of beauty more. It is a want, which, though the cause is not consciously realised, becomes a morbid pain in many intellectual natures. As dogmatic religion slips more and more from under their hold, there is often a dry emptiness left in that part of the soul which faith has deserted and which no excitement can satisfy.

Some turn to the beauty in an abstract idea, the beauty in the triumph of a moral endurance and an unselfish devotion, an exercise of the emotion of pity to allay that necessity which exists in their nature for beauty of some kind. 'George Eliot' describes, as she alone can, how that painful life of mental doubt falls back and takes refuge in the simplest acts which allay the sufferings of the sick, where a ground of sympathy for needs common to all humanity can always be found; and of course there can be no more practical or worthy result of 'honest doubt' and that humiliation which in honest natures results from moral and mental confusion. But to weep with the side of nature which weeps, and not to rejoice with the beauty of nature that rejoices, is an asceticism which is contrary, we think, to the obvious intentions of nature, and lands us on a shore barren of the pure delights which our senses were created to enjoy.

The world wants educating in the beautiful-for we have thwarted the instinct for beauty which, from savages upwards, all healthy human nature was meant to possess; we have thwarted it by the faults of our civilisation, by allowing ourselves to become over-greedy, unreal, ever seeking for effect to appear different from what we are thwarted it by being too indolent to be original, too ambitious to be simple, too careless to be discriminating. Having lost the instinct through our weaknesses, the question is, can we • Wordsworth, in his sonnet to Haydon, says:—

'High is our calling, friend; creative art
(Whether the instrument of words she use
Or pencil pregnant with ethereal hues)
Demands the service of a mind and heart
Though sensitive, yet in their weakest part
Heroically fashioned-to infuse

Faith in the whispers of the lonely Muse,
While the whole world seems adverse to desert,
And oh when Nature sinks, as oft she may,
Through long-lived pressure of obscure distress,
Still to be strenuous for the bright reward,
And in the soul admit of no decay,
Brook no continuance of weak-mindedness,
Great is the glory, for the strife is hard!'

revive it out of the virtues of our modern civilisation, out of the honest desire for intellectual and moral truth, out of the intense interest in natural science, out of the subtlety of the best critical instinct, out of the purity of our finest literary and poetic taste? Is there enough latent religious feeling, amidst all the dreary materialism in which so much of the world seems soaked, to nurture a great school of art-enough to counterbalance and get the better of the vulgarities of the time? Of refining of luxury we have so much we are apt to mistake its results for those of the soul, putting them on the altar of 'good taste' and worshipping them. There is such a straining to be clever, many brains are toppled over before their real work in the world begins; such a straining to be muscular and strong, many bodies are maimed by an excess in athletics before they are even fully grown. Surely all this grotesque exaggeration means that there is some serious element left out, which, if brought into the scheme of education, would keep this wildness in better order, give it a tone of better breeding, more balance, and more dignity; to every developing power its right place, but no more. With all our modern excitement of excess, happiness is not the state which the hardest livers, either in the intellectual or physical line, seem, by their own account, to have attained. The ways of the world tend to what is physically and morally ugly; the modern mind, as a rule, is wanting in that attitude of awe and reverence, inseparable from the appreciation of beauty, and is unconnected by any religious fervour with what in nature is inspired and supernatural. The souls of the masses, as well as of the highly cultured and intellectual, have very real requirements, and these requirements ought to be acknowledged and provided for by the thought of the advanced classes. It is these requirements which have found in former ages expression in the highest art. One fact about Art is distinctly proved in her history-all really great schools of art have been inspired by religion. The Greeks abstracted from nature a feeling which they could humanise, and out of the streams and clouds, trees and mountains, made men and women, forms which they deified with the spirit of nature. The early Italians out of men and women made Christs and angels, Madonnas and saints; the Italians of the Renaissance, taking partly the text of the Christian and partly the form of the Greek, threw the passions of humanity into a blaze of colour and an almost violent movement of action. These gloried in a vividness, an unrestrained generosity of beauty, which, like the rich blaze of an autumn garden under the glow of an October sunset, a glow richer and fuller than all the summer suns could cast on it, but the glow which precedes the night of killing frost, flamed up and then vanished, leaving Art no longer an important power in the world. Is there any hope of reviving that power? Can we, through the feeling for nature which certainly exists, though in a minority,

and of which feeling Wordsworth and Ruskin are our prophets, through the expressional side of human form which a few of our artists are able to depict, and which in literature finds expression pre-eminently in the writings of George Eliot,' convey some of the subtler thought and moral fervour of our own special religious feeling into Art, reviving her power and placing her again among the first of human interests?

Clearly, if we rest content with the art which is but a secondhand feeling, a replica of the expression of dogmas we no longer hold as vital truths; if we are content to sink into the expression of mere realistic effects, giving to our own proficiency that reverence which religious minds give to the creations of a superior power; above all, if we are content to remain indiscriminate and careless in our judgment of the rare but really great art which is being produced in our day, it is hopeless, and we must also rest content with a very secondary position for the art of our times. But, with so much increasing interest and energy in art matters, there ought to be found a possibility of drawing the moral and intellectual vein pre-eminent in our best literature into sympathy with the artist instinct.

But somewhere there is a link missing. We are afraid it must be admitted as a fact that the majority of our prominent artists do not live in the highest thought of our day, and that the highest thought seems often strangely blunt with regard to the poetry of form and colour. That the world would be the better for learning the lessons which beauty can teach through the best art, and that this is a time when such lessons are especially needed in education, must be the belief of all who feel acutely the close relation in feeling existing between what is best in all religions, and what is greatest in all art.

E. I. BARRINGTON.

A SHOPKEEPER'S VIEW OF

CO-OPERATIVE STORES.

IN the February number of this Review a paper appeared upon the above subject, from the pen of Mr. J. H. Lawson, written with an evident intention of placing the issue fairly before the public; but, from lack of accurate information, he has fallen into many errors, which in the following pages I will endeavour to correct.

Mr. Lawson begins by assuming that traders object to co-operation in toto, which is by no means the case. What they do object to is that co-operative societies are permitted to trade under conditions which place the retail dealer at an unfair disadvantage; and that paid and pensioned officers of the State are permitted not only to co-operate, but to trade, under like advantages, to his considerable detriment.

I will endeavour to present the subject as fairly as possible from the opposite point of view to that of Mr. Lawson; and, in so doing, it may be well, in the first instance, to look at the conditions under which a retail dealer commences business. After a long apprenticeship, and years of subsequent probation to gain the requisite experience, he, to enter into business with any chance of success, must be possessed of sufficient capital; the whole of which he risks, as there is no limit to his liability. He must take premises in a business thoroughfare, or street, for which he pays rent greatly in excess of what they would let for as private dwellings; his rates and taxes are assessed in proportion to his rental; and he not unfrequently pays income-tax upon considerably more than his actual income, owing to his not unnatural objection to appeal against an excessive assessment.

Members of co-operative societies, even those who trade under the Limited Liability Act, risk nothing; nor are they under the necessity of taking expensive premises. Why, then, having these advantages already, should they be permitted to escape the payment of their fair share towards the cost of government? They trade or co-operate under the protection of the laws of the realm, and enjoy the benefit of those laws to the full extent that the retail trader does. Why then should they not be taxed in the same proportion? Why should he pay in excess to compensate for the loss sustained by the State owing to their system of doing business?

From inquiries recently made, I find that the retail trader is assessed for income-tax, practically, upon his annual return, i.e. if he appeals he is questioned not only in respect to the profit he has made, but he is required to show what his annual returns are; and the

assessors appear to found their judgment rather upon those than upon his declared profits. All are not, of course, assessed in the same proportion; some, trading in goods of every-day sale, making a large return at a small profit; others, dealing in articles of luxury, or goods of a perishable nature, making a smaller return at a larger profit; and thus the assessments vary from about five to fifteen per cent. of the annual returns. I do not, of course, pledge myself to these figures-the exact average could be easily ascertained; but taking this as an approximately true statement, I think I have shown that retail traders, in the aggregate, pay income-tax upon about ten per cent. of their annual returns; and, as I before said, all co-operative societies, being protected by the laws of the country in the same degree as the retail trader, they should bear the burden of taxation in the same proportion; and as their trades are of an extremely mixed character, embracing almost every department of industry, it would be fair to assess them upon an average of trades, which, if I am correct in my estimate, would be upon ten per cent. of their annual returns. It is, to quote the late Shere Ali, as clear as sunlight,' that, if all trading were done upon the co-operative principle, incometax under Schedule D would become practically extinct. If cooperation had been continued upon the original Rochdale system, and had been assessed for income-tax, no difficulty would have been encountered upon this point.

The foregoing remarks apply to co-operative societies generally, but the retail trader contends that he has a further just cause of complaint that Crown servants, be they civil, naval and military, or clerical, should be permitted to trade at all. He contends that they, being in receipt of salaries or pensions derived from taxes which he largely helps to pay, or from funds which might otherwise be used for the relief of the poor, for education, or other purposes, should not be permitted to enter into competition with him; a competition in which he, owing to those salaries or pensions, must-apart from other advantages enjoyed by them, but denied to him-of necessity be heavily handicapped.

Irrespective of the prestige obtained by adopting departmental names-Civil-Service, Naval and Military, and so on-civil servants are frequently in possession of official information which will enable them to forestall a market; naval and military officers may make use of their official positions (I am informed that this is a constant practice of one officer, he being a director of a store) to entice candidates for commissions to their shops; and who shall say that, with possibilities such as these, Government contracts may not be taken by these societies, and a way opened for peculation and jobbery which will not a little startle many of the supporters of this movement?

Mr. Lawson asserts that, owing to co-operation, a general reduction in prices has taken place. I do not think so. That a general