e Press (and it is a big "if"); if there is no
machinery for actually suppressing the mere statement of a doctrine
clearly important to its readers--then the Press is bound sooner or
later to deal with such doctrine: just as it is bound to deal with
really vital news.

Here, again, we are dealing with something very different indeed from
that title "An organ of opinion" to which the large newspaper has in
the past pretended. But I am arguing for the truth that the Press--in
the sense of the great Capitalist newspapers--cannot be wholly
divorced from opinion.

We have had three great examples of this in our own time in England.
Two proceeded from the small wealthy class, and one from the mass of
the people.

The two proceeding from the small wealthy classes were the Fabian
movement and the movement for Women's Suffrage. The one proceeding
from the populace was the sudden, brief (and rapidly suppressed)
insurrection of the working classes against their masters in the
matter of Chinese Labour in South Africa.

The Fabian movement, which was a drawing-room movement, compelled the
discussion in the Press of Socialism, for and against. Although every
effort was made to boycott the Socialist contention in the Press, the
Fabians were at last strong enough to compel its discussion, and they
have by now canalized the whole thing into the direction of their
"Servile State." I myself am no more than middle-aged, but I can
remember the time when popular newspapers such as "The Star" openly
printed arguments in favour of Collectivism, and though to-day those
arguments are never heard in the Press--largely because the Fabian
Society has itself abandoned Collectivism in favour of forced
labour--yet we may be certain that a Capitalist paper would not have
discussed them at all, still less have supported them, unless it had
been compelled. The newspapers simply _could_ not ignore Socialism at
a time when Socialism still commanded a really strong body of opinion
among the wealthy.

It was the same with the Suffrage for Women, which cry a clique of
wealthy ladies got up in London. I have never myself quite understood
why these wealthy ladies wanted such an absurdity as the modern
franchise, or why they so blindly hated the Christian institution of
the Family. I suppose it was some perversion. But, anyhow, they
displayed great sincerity, enthusiasm, and devotion, suffering many
things for their cause, and acting in the only way which