THE DEMONSTRATION IN HYDE PARK.
SUNDAY'S demonstration was in every way creditable to the working classes of London. They managed to collect a quarter of a million of people—that is, five Continental corps d'armee—in Hyde Park, not only without the slightest breach of public order, but without even trampling any one to death. Beside the women and girls, who were everywhere, there must have been some two or three thousand babies in the Park ;—on the outskirts of the throng, and in the spaces between the swarms round the platforms, where the crowd was loose, perambulators were to be counted by the score. It used to be considered .a test of military capacity to march twenty regiments into Hyde Park and march them out again without clubbing them ; but the organisers of the Eight-Hours Demonstra- tion did a great deal more than that. Their processions -contained at least 120,000 men ; and these when they got to the place of meeting found the ground occupied by as many sightseers. Yet, in spite of the innumerable occasions for disorder, the vast human swarm managed to distribute itself, and to distribute itself fairly rapidly, round twenty or thirty platforms, to listen to a set of maddeningly dull speeches and to shout acquiescence in the resolutions, with- out a hitch. Though, no doubt, a certain amount of the success achieved was due to the care and forethought of the committee, we expect that what really made the crowd manageable was the complete confidence that reigned every. where. People did not merely expect that everything mould go off quietly ; they knew it. It no more occurred -to them that there could be any question as to the orderli- ness of the meeting, than it does to those who witness the Meet of the four-in-hands. Again, there prevailed universal good temper, and not the slightest feeling of want of sympathy with the object of the meeting was any- ',Where apparent. For all the Socialists may say, the belief -I that the poor ought to keep to their proper station does not - exist, except perhaps among the servants of the rich, who no doubt are often as haughty and authoritative as French nobles, and habitually use the word " independent " in re- gard to tradesmen, carpenters, or persons hired for the day, - as a term of reproach. Among the classes which contributed the thousands of well-dressed people who were present in the park on Sunday, there is, we believe, but one feeling,- - a wish that, somehow or other, the labouring poor should have less work to do. This sentiment is, indeed, some- times indulged in by the well-to-do to a grotesque extent, —professionals who often spend thirteen hours a day at work which a miner would sooner die than submit to, talking with the utmost horror of the fate of those who 'have to face "nine hours of dreary toil." On the whole, the peaceable behaviour of those who formed the pro- -cessions, and the sympathetic attitude of the onlookers, contributed to make the meeting of Sunday a triumph for the workers. The demonstrators managed, in fact, a very difficult task. They held a labour display in the heart of the rich quarter of the Metropolis, the magnitude of which would have sent any Continental Government into a fit of political hysterics, and yet did not frighten a single old- maid.
Though, considered as a gathering of peaceable human g.beings, the Demonstration must be regarded as a success, it cannot be admitted that it has done much one way or the other to solve the eight-hours problem. If it was intended to show the physical force of the working classes, and so to act as a veiled threat, it was most unquestionably an entire failure. Instead of demonstra- ting that, it reminded the world that the force of modern times rests not in the mob, but in a regiment of soldiers. No one could look at the meeting and doubt for a moment that a battalion would have gone thsough that swarm of white-faced and black-hatted humanity like a cutter through a cheese. The unarmed and the undisciplined only come together to testify to their physical impotence, and to show that the days when weight was the chief ,element that decided battles are gone for ever. We do not, however, imagine for a moment that terrorism in any shape or form was what the leaders of the workmen meant. They know well enough that if they want to change the face of society, their chance is at the polls. The talk of the Socialists about "cowing the rich into submission," in all probability never entered their heads, or if it did, was dismissed at once as nonsense. The real object of the Demonstration was advertisement. Those who organised it and attended it did so with the distinct purpose of letting the world know that they had a grievance, and of attempting to enlist sympathy for their cause. When a charity wants to make a new departure and to get popular sup- port, its friends hold the biggest meeting, or dinner, or bazaar they can, because they know that they will thereby most easily awaken the interest of the public. Deep down in the English nature—you may see it in America, in Africa, and in Australia—is the conviction that if you want something to happen, the best way is to collect as many people as you can, and to set them discussing it. Other nations put their aspirations into their songs and their plays, or form secret associations for carrying them into practice. The Anglo-Saxon expresses his by those monster public meetings which appear so absurd to foreigners, because they lead to nothing, and instead of recommending a tangible course of action, seem to be looked on as ends in themselves rather than as means. In truth, the Englishman, who always thinks and makes himself understood with great difficulty, finds the best way of setting forth his ideas on any particular subject is to demonstrate about it. If we look below the surface of the Hyde Park gathering, we shall see that the desire to advertise the longing of the workmen for a shorter day was the real object of the meeting. At the platforms of the Trade-Unionists—those of the Social Democrats need not be considered, for that body exercises no real influence upon the labourers—there was a general consensus of opinion in favour of an eight-hours day, but an equally general doubt expressed as to whether it would be wise to try and obtain it by the action of the State. The labourers want, and rightly want, to get an eight-hours day if they can, but they do not feel sure as to the best method of obtaining it. That they ought to have it if it is obtainable, no sane human being can have a doubt. If wages are destined to rise in the course of the next few years, we sincerely trust that they will rise, not in money, but in leisure. Whether they will rise is, however, a matter of the market, and as much outside the power of demonstrations as the production of an "above average" crop of corn. The question of State action lies in a nutshell. If Parliament interferes, it must either forbid overtime or allow it. If it allows it, then the so-called Eight-Hours Labour Act becomes, in fact, a law for increasing wages, which is not what the workmen ask for. Let us next suppose that Parliament forbids overtime. If it does, it must also fix the rate of wages, for otherwise there will come an immediate reduction of pay, which is not at all what is wanted. Employers do not pay for the hours spent in their factories, but for the work accomplished, and when less is turned out, they are obliged to pay less. It would be necessary, then, to supplement an Eight-Hours Bill by one virtually raising wages. But statutes cannot raise wages. Those who imagine they can, forget that capital, like labour, has its price, and that if it is not remunerated at the market rate, it strikes work. Whether a manufacturer carries on his factory or closes it, depends in the last resort upon whether he can pay a certain rate of interest on the capital employed, that rate being fixed by the relation existing between the supply of capital and the demand that exists for it. If he cannot pay the market rate, he must abandon production, and the capital he has been using must find employment elsewhere. But if wages are suddenly raised by Act of Parliament, his margin of profit is cut into in such a way that he cannot earn the rate of interest required to pay the hire of capital, and therefore, if not immediately, yet sooner or later, his factory will have to be closed and the labourers dismissed. But would Parlia- ment allow these results to ensue ? Obviously not. The producer in one trade is a. consumer in twenty others, and rather than face the famine prices that must come from diminished production, he would insist on a levelling. down of wages. If Parliament attempts upon any large scale to do what ought to be left to voluntary effort, it will not stop at regulating hours. State-fixed wages are bound to be the next step. That prospect may have no terrors for those who desire to see us all bound hand and foot in the chains of communal slavery, but for Trade-Unionism it means extinction. When once the State attempts the work now done by voluntary association, the independence of the artisan is at an end. Instead of being able to manage his own affairs, and make his own bargains with the capitalist, he will find his rate of remuneration fixed by a set of State officials, whose first thought, we may be sure, will always be directed towards protecting those who have proved, not fittest, but unfittest in the industrial struggle.
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