§ 53

The community established here is voluntary, mostly composed of men of small incomes, large intelligence, and varied pursuits. Being in a sense public servants, they only pay a nominal tax to the Commune for the use of the land, and no income tax is levied from them. Intellect contributes what money cannot buy.

So interesting was the appearance of this little nest of disinterested men, so lively in surroundings, so snug in its suggestion of quiet concentrated life, that my spirit sought to examine it. It is high summer; the corn and fruit are ripening; the hop gardens are laden with fragrance. It is that time of year when repose seems to take the place of agricultural activity; the sun is hot, the air full of the hum of bees. It is the midday of the year when, as the old pagans told, the gods sleep. The sun, no longer hidden by smoke, is doing his work, preparing for the gathering time, fruitful autumn! Something after an old monastery it is. A refectory, and a kitchen built after the plan of that at Glastonbury, denote a goodly company to feed. Every member of the order has his sleeping cell. Those whose avocations are primarily studious have a study to themselves. It is noon, a bell rings. Soon the refectory is full, accommodated to hold fifty or sixty men of different ages and occupations. One could easily pick out the scholars from the active workers. There appeared to be no servants, so called; the cook was of the order; they waited upon themselves. What is the main business of the Order? It is “teaching.” The Prior, or he in priority, is a distinguished old man. I noticed or learnt by listening, that sectarian creeds did not exist here. They were just Christians, i.e., who work for others, give of their experience and knowledge freely and abundantly. The Athenic academy must have been something like this modern adaptation of Plato’s republic; who knows if there be not a Socrates among them?

There are artists and craftsmen as well as historians, and music plays its part, for in the refectory is an organ. Sweet music came from its pipes during dinner. The number I saw was not inclusive; many of the order were away in different parts of the county teaching. I heard that every county in Britain contains a similar Order of Teachers. The subjects taught, answer to the needs of the County. The Prior has power to choose from and send teachers where he pleases; in this sense he is an autocrat. The object is to instil Agricultural peasants with high Ideals of their life as such, and to enlighten Industrial districts by History. So much of the old agitation and mistrust on the part of the people was the result of ignorance. It was to combat ignorance and to place high ideals before the people that the Order was founded. Within an easy walk for the pedestrian, my spirit flew the distance in less than a second. I found myself in a village. It reminded me of one that in my waking youth I remember before the giant Industrialism had sprawled his uncouth body there, and with his great ungainly feet had trodden down grass, corn and fruit trees, pulled down ancient buildings to erect factories, and turned a place of gardens into ash heaps. The horrid remnants of his invasion have been eradicated. Everything seemed to record peace. The country at peace, the people at peace. I went into the village school; there I saw one of the order instructing. No birch rod was suspended on its whitewashed walls; I looked for it, remembering Dr. Johnson’s homage to the Rod, but saw none. The boys and girls were being led, not driven; interested, not forced; they were being taught the dignity of Labour and the criminality of laziness. Taught self-respect they were, and to abominate not only low actions, but dishonest impulses. From every cottage I heard the music of the loom. In the fields the sound of happy song prevailed. They rivaled the thrush and the blackbird, did those merry workers. They were merry with the birds, joining them in song.