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LAND & WATER 
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I'lic liK- i.i Lii. suck'ty is paramount over tlic welfare of any 
of its members, and over tlieir lives also ; and if any member of 
the society acts in a way injurious to it, the society must put 
a stop to that action or'it will at length be destroyed. This 
is the principle that sanctions the killing or banishment or 
imprisonment of murderer, thief, and other malefactors. 
Society must put a stop to their depredations or it will perish ; 
and the death of the society is the death or slavery of all its 
members. 
It is not enough that the members of a social body should 
refrain from acts injurious to tliat body. They owe to their 
society not only passive renunciation, but active duty. In 
whatever action is necassarV to the existence of the society 
everv individual must take his share. If it is necessary for 
tlie existence of the society that a thing should be done, an 
imperious duty lies upon every member of that society to take 
liis share in the doing of it. If the society is to continue, 
it is not only necessary that each individual should abstain 
from action injurious to it : it is necessary also that he should 
contribute his share of beneficial action. He must take 
his share in the protection of the ,society from malefactors. 
Hence the obligatory system of frank-pledge. Hence the 
ol)ligation of every citizen to join in the hue and cry. Hence 
the obligation on every subject to help in the arrest of the 
malefactor when called upon in th» King's name to do so. 
Hence the obligation of every citizen to contribute to the 
.support of the police that they may do for him that duty 
that would otherwise fall upon himself But his payment of 
the police does not absolve him from his primary duty It 
is an aid to the more effectual performance of the duty, but 
it is no substitute. The obUgation still remains. 
The conflict between the individualist and the socialist 
is a conflict, first between those who would restrict the duty 
of the individual to acts that arc necessary to the existence 
of society and those that are merely expedient for its welfare ^ 
and second between tliosi; who regard certain acts as necessary' 
and those who regard these acts as merely expedient ; but 
there has never been any doubt or dispute as to the duty of the 
indi\idual to take his share in doing what is necessary for the 
continuance of his society. This duty is inherent in every- 
member of the society, and cannot be renounced or shirked. 
Absolve the members of the society from this duty, and the 
society falls to pieces. It exists only on this condition, 
and every society has of necessity the inherent right to call 
upon each of its members to perform this duty, and has, 
moreover, the right to compel him if he shrinks from the 
performance. As to this, there never has been any doubt, 
and there never can be any doubt. • ■ 
For the benefits that accrue to every -member of a civilised 
society from his membership of it are immeasurable and incal- 
culable. First of all and most of all, he has the protection of 
his fellows against aggression both from within and from 
without. He has the satisfaction of his vital need of social 
intercourse. He has security of life and of property. He has 
the \ise of roads and other means of communication and trans- 
port. He has the benefit of an organised system of labour, 
_by which he obtains thousands of things that he could never 
make for himself. He has the benefit of an organised system 
of supply, by which, in exchange for his own labour and 
ability, he can satisfy all the wants within his means, and 
have the things delivered at his very door. He has an 
elaborately constructed house, provided with supply ril water 
and light. He has, in this countiy at least, insurance against 
star\'atioii. However useless, however worthless, however 
obnoxious even, he may be, he can demand and will be pro- 
vided with a roof to shelter him, food to nourish him, clothes 
to cover him, fire to warm him, and a bed to sleep on. He 
has the benefit of all the knowledge and skill slowly accumu- 
lated by many generations. He has all these incalculably 
valuable benefits and many many more, and is he to enjoy 
them without jxiving the price ? 
I sav the price : 1 do not say the money price. The money 
that he gives for these things, money that he may or may not 
have earned by liis own labour and skill, is only a part of the 
price and not the greater part. Beyond and behind the money- 
price lies the imperative inescapable obligation to maintain the 
mtegrity of tlie wonderful fabric he enjoys. Part of the 
price, the most important part of the price is the obligation to 
defend the fabric if it is attacked, whether the attack comes 
from within or from without. No one disputes his obligation 
to defend it from internal foes, from the murderer, the thief, 
the rebel ; but these are innocuous in comparison with the 
powerful foes tliat may attack the State from without, and if 
he is bound to defend it against internal enemies, liow much 
more is he not bound to defend it against external enemies ! 
Shall a man enjoy the benefits conferred upon him by society 
and not pay the price ? If he takes the goods and evades pay- 
ment of the money part of the pirice, society scourges him 
W'ith whips. If he enjoys the goods and evades payment of the 
more important part of the price, shall not society scourge 
him witli scorpions ? If it does not, it deserves the fate that 
must fall upon it. 
If every citizen was thus dishonest; if cvery)ne thus 
swindled the nation, what would become of it ? It would be 
destroyed by the first breath of assault. It would succumb to 
a corporal's guard, and it would deserve to perish off the face 
of the earth as a nation of thieves and swindlers. But if the 
vast majority of the nation is honest, what is its proper course 
towards the few thieves and swindlers it may contain ? 
In time of peace it m»/ deal with them mildly. It may 
say to them, You refuse to join the fighting forces ? You 
refuse to take your share of the common obligation ? You 
refuse to pay for the goods ? Then you shall not enjoy them. 
If you refuse to pay the price, you shall not share in the 
benefit. Go. Leave the country to its honest members and 
betake yourself elsewhere. Go, with the brand of infamy 
upon you, and find a home where you can. You are no fit 
associate for honest men. This country is your country no 
longer. 
This may suffice in peace, but in war time it is not enough. 
In war time he that is not with us is against us ; and this we 
find to be literally tnic. The man who can fight and will not 
fight is «ot merely passively useless to his country : he is 
actively noxious. He not only consumes food and other things 
urgently needed by his honest fellow citizen, but experience 
shows that he will actively as.sist the enemy as far as he dares. 
He does his best to poison the minds of liis fellow citizens. 
He puts in Parliament adroit questions calculated to dis- 
hearten his own country and to assist and comfort the enemy. 
He detains in guarding him men who ought to be fighting 
and he gives to his guards all the trouble he can. For such 
men tolerance is foolish and dangerous weakness. 
The Memory of Beauty 
By Algernon Blackwood 
IT began almost impcrcoptil^ly— about half-pa.st three 
o'clock in the afternoon, to be exact — and Lcnnart, with 
his curiously sharpened faculties, noticed it at once. 
Before any one else, he thinks, was aware of it, this 
dt licatc change in his surroundings made itself known to these 
senses of his, s.iid now to be unreliable, yet so intensely recep- 
tive and alert for all their unreliability. No one else, at any 
rate, gave the smallest sign that something had began to 
happen. The throng of people nio\ing about him remained 
uninformed apparently. 
He turned to his companion, who was also nurse. " Hullo ! " 
he said to her, " There's something up. What in the world is 
it ? " 
(Ibcdiont to her careful instructions, she made, as a hundred 
times before, some soothing reply, while her patient--" Jack," 
she called him — aware that she had not shared his own keen 
observation, was disappointed, and let the matter drop. 
He said no more. He went back into his shell, smiling 
quietly to himself, peaceful in mind, and only vaguely aware 
that something, he knew not exactly what, was wrong with him, 
and that his companion humoured Iiim for his own good. 
She did the humouring tenderly, and very sweetly, so that he 
liked it, his occasional disappointment in her rousing no shadow 
of resentment or impatience. 
This was his first day in the open air, the first day for weeks 
that he had left a carefully-shaded room, where the blinds 
seemed always down, and looked round him upon a world 
spread in gracious light. Physically, he had recovered 
health and strengtli ; nursing and good food, rest and sleej), 
had made him as fit as when he first went out with his draft 
months ago. Only he did not know that he had gone out, nor 
what had happened to him when he was out, nor why he was 
tlie object now of sucl) ceaseless care, attention and loving 
tenderness. He remembered nothing ; memory, temporarily, 
had been sponged clean as a new slate. That his nurse was 
also his sister was unrecognised by his- mind. He had for- 
gotten his own name, as well as hers. He had forgotten— 
everj'thing. 
The October dav had been overcast, high, uniform clouds 
obscuring the sun,'and moving westwards before a wind that 
had not cbme lower. No breeze now stirred the yellow foliage, as 
hv sat with his companion uj?on a bench by Hampstcad Heath. 
