had been formed, Oxford had more than doubled its
membership to 13, but only five other societies were
in existence. By the following year a revival
had set in. W. Stephen Sanders, at that time
an Alderman of the London County Council, who had
been a member of the Society since 1890 and of the
executive Committee since 1904, was appointed Organising
Secretary with the special object of building up the
provincial organisation. By 1910 there were forty-six
local societies, and in 1912 the maximum of fifty
was reached. Since then the number has declined.
These societies were scattered over the country, some
of them in the great cities, Manchester, Newcastle,
Sheffield, and so on: others within hail of London,
at Croydon, Letchworth, Ilford: others again in
small towns, Canterbury, Chelmsford, Carnarvon:
another was at Bedales School, Petersfield, run by
my son and his schoolfellows. The local societies
formed at this period, apart from the University Societies,
were in the main pallid reflections of the parent
Society in its earlier days; none of them had the
good fortune to find a member, so far as we yet know,
of even second-class rank as a thinker or speaker.
One or two produced praiseworthy local tracts on housing
conditions and similar subjects. They usually
displayed less tolerance than the London Society, a
greater inclination to insist that there was but one
way of political salvation, usually the Labour Party
way, and that all who would not walk in it should
be treated as alien enemies. If Socialism is only
to be achieved by the making of Socialists, as Mr.
Wells announced with all the emphasis of a rediscovery,
no doubt the local societies achieved some Socialism,
since they made some members. If Socialism is
to be attained by the making of Socialist measures,
doubtless they accomplished a little by their influence
on local administration. Organisation for political
work is always educative to those who take part in
it, and it has some effect on the infinitely complex
parallelogram of forces which determines the direction
of progress. Possibly I underestimate the importance
of local Fabian Societies; there is a school of thought,
often represented in the Society, which regards the
provinces with reverent awe—omne ignotum
pro magnifico—as the true source of political
wisdom, which Londoners should endeavour to discover
and obey. Londoners no doubt see little of organised
labour, and even less of industrial co-operation:
the agricultural labourer is to them almost a foreigner:
the Welsh miner belongs to another race. But the
business men, the professional class, and the political
organisers of Manchester and Glasgow have, in my opinion,
no better intuitions, and usually less knowledge than
their equivalents in London, and they have the disadvantage
of comparative isolation. London, the brain of
the Empire, where reside the leaders in politics and
in commerce, in literature, in journalism and in art,
and which consequently attracts the young men who