k, they will follow Dr. Barnardo's lead, only on a scale
as large as the nation is large. They won't cram yearnings for the
Beautiful, and True, and Good down the throat of the woman making violets
for three farthings a gross, but they will make somebody get off her back
and quit cramming himself till, like the Romans, he must go to a bath and
sweat it out. And to their consternation, they will find that they will
have to get off that woman's back themselves, as well as the backs of a
few other women and children they did not dream they were riding upon.

CHAPTER XXVII--THE MANAGEMENT

In this final chapter it were well to look at the Social Abyss in its
widest aspect, and to put certain questions to Civilisation, by the
answers to which Civilisation must stand or fall. For instance, has
Civilisation bettered the lot of man? "Man," I use in its democratic
sense, meaning the average man. So the question re-shapes itself: _Has
Civilisation bettered the lot of the average man_?

Let us see. In Alaska, along the banks of the Yukon River, near its
mouth, live the Innuit folk. They are a very primitive people,
manifesting but mere glimmering adumbrations of that tremendous artifice,
Civilisation. Their capital amounts possibly to 2 pounds per head. They
hunt and fish for their food with bone-headed spews and arrows. They
never suffer from lack of shelter. Their clothes, largely made from the
skins of animals, are warm. They always have fuel for their fires,
likewise timber for their houses, which they build partly underground,
and in which they lie snugly during the periods of intense cold. In the
summer they live in tents, open to every breeze and cool. They are
healthy, and strong, and happy. Their one problem is food. They have
their times of plenty and times of famine. In good times they feast; in
bad times they die of starvation. But starvation, as a chronic
condition, present with a large number of them all the time, is a thing
unknown. Further, they have no debts.

In the United Kingdom, on the rim of the Western Ocean, live the English
folk. They are a consummately civilised people. Their capital amounts
to at least 300 pounds per head. They gain their food, not by hunting
and fishing, but by toil at colossal artifices. For the most part, they
suffer from lack of shelter. The greater number of them are vilely
housed, do not have enough fuel to keep them warm, and are insufficiently
c