inherited from the past, and in spite of the powerful means of
production, which could ensure comfort to all, in return for a few hours
of daily toil?

The Socialists have said it and repeated it unwearyingly. Daily they
reiterate it, demonstrating it by arguments taken from all the sciences.
It is because all that is necessary for production--the land, the mines,
the highways, machinery, food, shelter, education, knowledge--all have
been seized by the few in the course of that long story of robbery,
enforced migration and wars, of ignorance and oppression, which has been
the life of the human race before it had learned to subdue the forces of
Nature. It is because, taking advantage of alleged rights acquired in
the past, these few appropriate to-day two-thirds of the products of
human labour, and then squander them in the most stupid and shameful
way. It is because, having reduced the masses to a point at which they
have not the means of subsistence for a month, or even for a week in
advance, the few can allow the many to work, only on the condition of
themselves receiving the lion's share. It is because these few prevent
the remainder of men from producing the things they need, and force them
to produce, not the necessaries of life for all, but whatever offers the
greatest profits to the monopolists. In this is the substance of all
Socialism.

Take, indeed, a civilized country. The forests which once covered it
have been cleared, the marshes drained, the climate improved. It has
been made habitable. The soil, which bore formerly only a coarse
vegetation, is covered to-day with rich harvests. The rock-walls in the
valleys are laid out in terraces and covered with vines. The wild
plants, which yielded nought but acrid berries, or uneatable roots, have
been transformed by generations of culture into succulent vegetables or
trees covered with delicious fruits. Thousands of highways and railroads
furrow the earth, and pierce the mountains. The shriek of the engine is
heard in the wild gorges of the Alps, the Caucasus, and the Himalayas.
The rivers have been made navigable; the coasts, carefully surveyed, are
easy of access; artificial harbours, laboriously dug out and protected
against the fury of the sea, afford shelter to the ships. Deep shafts
have been sunk in the rocks; labyrinths of underground galleries have
been dug out where coal may be raised or minerals extracted. At the
crossings of the highways great cities h