he dwelling houses of the factories, it would be forced
also to deny the right of the bankers to levy upon the Commune a tax
amounting to L2,000,000, in the form of interest for former loans. The
great city would be obliged to put itself in touch with the rural
districts, and its influence would inevitably urge the peasants to free
themselves from the landowner. It would be necessary to communalize the
railways, that the citizens might get food and work, and lastly, to
prevent the waste of supplies; and to guard against the trusts of
corn-speculators, like those to whom the Paris Commune of 1793 fell a
prey, it would have to place in the hands of the City the work of
stocking its warehouses with commodities, and apportioning the produce.

Some Socialists still seek, however, to establish a distinction. "Of
course," they say, "the soil, the mines, the mills, and manufacturers
must be expropriated, these are the instruments of production, and it is
right we should consider them public property. But articles of
consumption--food, clothes, and dwellings--should remain private
property."

Popular common sense has got the better of this subtle distinction. We
are not savages who can live in the woods, without other shelter than
the branches. The civilized man needs a roof, a room, a hearth, and a
bed. It is true that the bed, the room, and the house is a home of
idleness for the non-producer. But for the worker, a room, properly
heated and lighted, is as much an instrument of production as the tool
or the machine. It is the place where the nerves and sinews gather
strength for the work of the morrow. The rest of the workman is the
daily repairing of the machine.

The same argument applies even more obviously to food. The so-called
economists, who make the just-mentioned distinction, would hardly deny
that the coal burnt in a machine is as necessary to production as the
raw material itself. How then can food, without which the human machine
could do no work, be excluded from the list of things indispensable to
the producer? Can this be a relic of religious metaphysics? The rich
man's feast is indeed a matter of luxury, but the food of the worker is
just as much a part of production as the fuel burnt by the steam-engine.

The same with clothing. We are not New Guinea savages. And if the dainty
gowns of our ladies must rank as objects of luxury, there is
nevertheless a certain quantity of linen, cotton, and woolen stuff which