or all. She has the attraction of a wonderful
personality and touches the heart of one and the brain of another, and
draws this man by his hatred of injustice, and his neighbour by his faith
in the future, and a third, it may be, by his love of art or by his wild
worship of a lost and buried past. And all of this is well. For, to
make men Socialists is nothing, but to make Socialism human is a great
thing.

They are not of any very high literary value, these poems that have been
so dexterously set to music. They are meant to be sung, not to be read.
They are rough, direct and vigorous, and the tunes are stirring and
familiar. Indeed, almost any mob could warble them with ease. The
transpositions that have been made are rather amusing. 'Twas in
Trafalgar Square is set to the tune of 'Twas in Trafalgar's Bay; Up, Ye
People! a very revolutionary song by Mr. John Gregory, boot-maker, with a
refrain of

Up, ye People! or down into your graves!
Cowards ever will be slaves!

is to be sung to the tune of Rule, Britannia! the old melody of The Vicar
of Bray is to accompany the new Ballade of Law and Order--which, however,
is not a ballade at all--and to the air of Here's to the Maiden of
Bashful Fifteen the democracy of the future is to thunder forth one of
Mr. T. D. Sullivan's most powerful and pathetic lyrics. It is clear that
the Socialists intend to carry on the musical education of the people
simultaneously with their education in political science and, here as
elsewhere, they seem to be entirely free from any narrow bias or formal
prejudice. Mendelssohn is followed by Moody and Sankey; the Wacht am
Rhein stands side by side with the Marseillaise; Lillibulero, a chorus
from Norma, John Brown and an air from Beethoven's Ninth Symphony are all
equally delightful to them. They sing the National Anthem in Shelley's
version and chant William Morris's Voice of Toil to the flowing numbers
of Ye Banks and Braes of Bonny Doon. Victor Hugo talks somewhere of the
terrible cry of 'Le Tigre Populaire,' but it is evident from Mr.
Carpenter's book that should the Revolution ever break out in England we
shall have no inarticulate roar but, rather, pleasant glees and graceful
part-songs. The change is certainly for the better. Nero fiddled while
Rome was burning--at least, inaccurate historians say he did; but it is
for the building up of an eternal city that the Socialists of our day are
making music, and they have