class.  If the advance of Socialism in England is to be measured by the “making of Socialists,” if we are to count membership, to enumerate meetings, to sum up subscriptions, the outlook is gloomy.  Thirty-four years ago a group of strong men led by Mr. H.M.  Hyndman founded the Democratic Federation, which survives as the British Socialist Party, with Mr. Hyndman still to the fore; the rest have more or less dropped out, and no one has arisen to take their places.  Twenty-two years ago Keir Hardie founded the Independent Labour Party:  he has died since the first draft of this passage was written, and no one is left who commands such universal affection and respect amongst the members of the Society he created.  Of the seven Essayists who virtually founded the Fabian Society only one is still fully in harness, and his working life must necessarily be nearing its term.  It may be doubted whether a society for the propagation of ideas has the power to long outlive the inspiration of its founder, unless indeed he is a man of such outstanding personality that his followers treat him as a god.  The religions of the world have been maintained by worshippers, and even in our own day the followers of Marx have held together partly because they regard his teachings with the uncritical reverence usually accorded to the prophets of new faiths.  But Marxism has survived in Germany chiefly because it has created and inspired a political party, and political parties are of a different order from propagandist societies.  Socialism in England has not yet created a political party; for the Labour Party, though entirely Socialist in policy, is not so in name or in creed, and in this matter the form counts rather than the fact.

Europe, as I write in the early days of 1916, is in the melting-pot, and it would be foolish to prophesy either the fate of the nations now at war or, in particular, the future of political parties in Great Britain, and especially of the Labour Party.

But so far as concerns the Fabian Society and the two other Socialist Societies, this much may be said:  three factors in the past have kept them apart:  differences of temperament; differences of policy; differences of leadership.  In fact perhaps the last was the strongest.

I do not mean that the founders of the three societies entertained mutual antipathies or personal jealousies to the detriment of the movement.  I do mean that each group preferred to go its own way, and saw no sufficient advantage in a common path to compensate for the difficulties of selecting it.

In a former chapter I have explained how a movement for a form of Socialist Unity had at last almost achieved success, when a new factor, the European War, interposed.  After the war these negotiations will doubtless be resumed, and the three Socialist Societies will find themselves more closely allied than ever before.  The differences of policy which have divided them will then be a matter of past history.  The differences