as, in natural justice, a right to
such wealth as he actually himself produces; and what he produces, as we
saw in the last chapter, is that amount of wealth which would not have
been produced at all had his efforts not been made, or been other or
less intense than they have been.

Thus far, then, for the purposes of the present discussion, all parties
are agreed; but the moment the assailants of interest take the next step
in their argument, we shall find that their errors begin--errors
resulting, as we shall see, from an imperfect analysis of facts. For
them the two types of correspondence between productive effort and
product are, firstly, the manual labourer, who performs some daily task
such as riveting plates or bricklaying, and receives an equivalent in
wages at the end of each day or week; and, secondly, the manager of some
great industrial enterprise, who spends each day so many hours in his
office, issuing minute directions with regard to the conduct of his
subordinates, and sending his receipts to the bank as they come in from
his customers. But these types, though accurate so far as they go, do
but cover a part of the actual field of fact. Practically, though of
course not absolutely, they ignore the element of time. They represent
effort and product as being always so nearly simultaneous that, although
the former must literally precede the latter, yet, if we estimate life
in terms of years, or even months, or weeks, a man has ceased to produce
as soon as he has ceased to work.

Now, of certain forms of effort this may be true enough. A bricklayer,
for example, as soon as he ceases to lay bricks, ceases to produce
anything. His wall-building closes its effects with the walls which he
himself has built. It does nothing to facilitate the building of other
walls in the future. Similarly such ability as consists in a gift for
personal management often ends its effects, and leaves no trace behind
it, as soon as the manager possessing these gifts retires.

But with many forms of ability the case is precisely opposite. The
products of their exercise do not even begin to appear till after--often
till long after--the exercise of the ability itself has altogether come
to an end. Let us, for example, take the case of a play; and since
socialists are still included among the objectors whom we have in view,
let us take one of the popular plays written by Mr. Bernard Shaw. Such a
play, as Mr. Shaw has publicly boasted--