[This extract from The Standard of Life and Other Studies by Mrs. Bernard Bosanquet, New York, the Macmillan Co., 1898, is reprinted by permission of the publishers. It is taken from the first part of the first essay, which gives the title to the collection.]

If any proof were wanted of how ideas may mold the lives of men and be the moving spirit of their progress, we might surely find it in this deeply significant idea of the Standard of Life. Around it center most of our industrial problems of to-day, and more or less consciously it is made the base for all the forward movements of the working-class. And like all living ideas it is incapable of exact definition; in other words, its significance is inexhaustible, for it has not yet become stereotyped into one narrow usage. It may be taken to include all that is best and highest in human life, or it may be narrowed down to signify nothing more than the satisfaction of the crudest cravings of mankind; and its very elasticity gives it a deeper significance, for by the interpretation which he gives to it you may most surely know the man for what he is.

But though we cannot define the idea, we can, by considering its varying usages, and the part which it plays in our own thought and life, form some estimate of its importance, and perhaps lay emphasis on elements which are too liable to be overlooked.

In the first place, we may consider in what sort of sense we are justified in speaking of a standard in this connection. Behind the fountains and lions in Trafalgar Square is a stone wall, and in this stone wall is something so important that it is hardly ever looked at, . . . certain pieces of metal let into the stone, and marking off lengths which are named as inches, feet, yards, and furlongs. This is the standard of measurement by which is determined what length shall be called an inch or a foot, and beyond which there is no appeal. Such a standard is an absolute necessity as one of the fundamental ideas upon which civilized intercourse is based; without it there would be nothing to prevent any person from having his own idea as to what sort of length a yard should be. . . .

The necessity of a standard is not confined to the commonplace facts of weighing and measuring. The tuning-fork of the singing master sets a standard to which his pupils must conform, and without which he would himself fall into uncertainty ; while in the Ten Commandments we have a standard of morality which has served the human race for countless generations.

How is it with the Standard of Life? It may be objected that this is something too vague and indefinite to be really analogous to these; that there is nowhere any definite statement laid down to which we can appeal, and that it is merely a picturesque way of saying that a man ought not to live like an animal, or some other rhetorical phrase of the kind.

It is true, no doubt, that many of us do not know where to look for our standard, and should be puzzled if suddenly called upon to define it. But this is partly again because it is so important a matter that those who have any standard at all have no need to refer elsewhere; it has become a part of their very lives, and consciously or unconsciously they measure their every action by it. What else does it mean when we say, "I can't live in that street, it is too dirty and disreputable," or, "I wouldn't turn out a piece of work in that disgraceful state," or "I couldn't bring myself to such a low trick as that," or, "I 'd be ashamed to let my children run the streets in that condition"? Or when, again, we so order our lives that the ease and pleasure in them shall not become disproportionate to the amount of toil and exertion ? We are simply measuring certain facts by a standard which we have within us of decent living, good work, honesty, family pride, and strenuousness; and it would not be difficult for any thoughtful man to make clear to himself just what the sort of life was which he had taken as a standard. And he would then find that just so far as he fell below that standard he would consider his life unsatisfactory and a failure.

The great difference between the Standard of Life and other standards seems at first sight to be, that while physical standards are the same for all, the Standard of Life varies for each of us. But this is largely only appearance, and due to our narrow way of regarding the standard. When we take it in a larger sense, we begin to see that the difficulty is not so much that for each of us it is different, but that for all of us it is progressive.

For instance, one way of narrowing the idea is to use it as if it could be expressed in money terms alone, and to speak of the standard of any class as represented by 20s., 30s., or 40s., a week, as the case may be. . . .

Another way of simplifying the question is to divide the community up into social classes, and assign a different standard to each class; and for this view there is a certain justification if we look rather to the probable origin of class distinctions than to the facts as they stand at present. For it seems likely that class distinctions have their origin in differences of function, and that our Standard of Life differs in detail according to the particular function we have to fulfil in the community. In other words, according to the occupations which they follow men's standards will vary in kind, without our being necessarily able to say that this or the other is the higher or lower. If for the present we leave out of sight the lowest class of all, the Residuum (which is the Residuum just because it is made up of men and women who have lost their standard), then we shall find that in certain fundamental respects the standard is the same for all Englishmen to-day. For instance, in cleanliness, morality, and sufficiency of food, we differ no doubt from person to person; but we could not fairly say that on the whole it is characteristic of any one class to be cleanlier, more moral, or to eat more than any other. But as soon as we get away from these elementary facts, great divergences begin to appear, and those differences begin to show themselves which seem to coincide with what we are apt to call class distinctions. The most obvious differences between classes, those which at once attract the attention to the exclusion of underlying identities, consist in their different standards in such matters as dress, education, housing, and recreation. Certain classes appear to attach more importance to these, and at any rate spend much more money upon them; and we incline, perhaps somewhat hastily, to assume that the more expensive standard must be higher.

The attempt to understand these differences in the standard brings us into contact with some of the most perplexing problems of sociology. The first which stares us in the face is one which has baffled so many young inquirers that it may fairly be called the pons asinorum of social reform. Why are there different classes in the community ? Why do we not all belong to one class, with one Standard of Life and equal means of attaining it? This is one of the first questions we begin to ask upon emerging from the sublime indifference of childhood to all social arrangements, and one which nobody seems prepared to answer for us. Fortunately for our present purpose no comprehensive answer is needed; it will be sufficient to note briefly one or two of the considerations involved in our social inequalities.