Explore "Edgar Wallace by Himself" by Edgar Wallace on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I have read and read and read until I am tired of reading about the poor and their problems. From time to time young Oxford gentlemen descend to what is so picturesquely described as the abyss and grope around in the mud for first causes. They write learnedly about labour and economics and supply and demand, and they produce in high lights such examples and illustrations to support their theories as come to their observation.
To-day they tell us that the sight of so much luxury in the West End, the jewellers' shops, the shining limousines, the delicately nurtured lap-dogs of society women, are creating a feeling of unrest among the labouring poor. I cannot remember when this "proof" of a coming revolution was not adduced. The truth is that, if working people are decently housed and can earn sufficient to supply their families with the comforts to which they are entitled, they care precious little about those who are doing better than themselves. Class hatred is an invention.