WHAT'S WRONG WITH THE WORLD

by G.K. Chesterton

CONTENTS

PART ONE: THE HOMELESSNESS OF MAN

I The Medical Mistake II Wanted: An Unpractical Man III The New Hypocrite IV The Fear of the Past V The Unfinished Temple VI The Enemies of Property VII The Free Family XIII The Wildness of Domesticity IX History of Hudge and Gudge X Oppression by Optimism XI The Homelessness of Jones

PART TWO: IMPERIALISM, OR THE MISTAKE ABOUT MAN

I The Charm of Jingoism II Wisdom and the Weather III The Common Vision IV The Insane Necessity

PART THREE: FEMINISM, OR THE MISTAKE ABOUT WOMAN

I The Unmilitary Suffragette II The Universal Stick III The Emancipation of Domesticity IV The Romance of Thrift V The Coldness of Chloe VI The Pedant and the Savage VII The Modern Surrender of Woman VIII The Brand of the Fleur-de-Lis IX Sincerity and the Gallows X The Higher Anarchy XI The Queen and the Suffragettes XII The Modern Slave

PART FOUR: EDUCATION, OR THE MISTAKE ABOUT THE CHILD

I The Calvinism of To-day II The Tribal Terror III The Tricks of Environment IV The Truth About Education V An Evil Cry VI Authority the Unavoidable VII The Humility of Mrs. Grundy VIII The Broken Rainbow IX The Need for Narrowness X The Case for the Public Schools XI The School for Hypocrites XII The Staleness of the New Schools XIII The Outlawed Parent XIV Folly and Female Education

PART FIVE: THE HOME OF MAN

I The Empire of the Insect II The Fallacy of the Umbrella Stand III The Dreadful Duty of Gudge IV A Last Instance V Conclusion

THREE NOTES

I On Female Suffrage II On Cleanliness in Education III On Peasant Proprietorship

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DEDICATION

To C. F G. Masterman, M. P.

My Dear Charles,

I originally called this book "What is Wrong," and it would have satisfied your sardonic temper to note the number of social misunderstandings that arose from the use of the title. Many a mild lady visitor opened her eyes when I remarked casually, "I have been doing 'What is Wrong' all this morning." And one minister of religion moved quite sharply in his chair when I told him (as he understood it) that I had to run upstairs and do what was wrong, but should be down again in a minute. Exactly of what occult vice they silently accused me I cannot conjecture, but I know of what I accuse myself; and that is, of having written a very shapeless and inadequate book, and one quite unworthy to be dedicated to you. As far as literature goes, this book is what is wrong and no mistake.

It may seem a refinement of insolence to present so wild a composition to one who has recorded two or three of the really impressive visions of the moving millions of England. You are the only man alive who can make the map of England crawl with life; a most creepy and enviable accomplishment. Why then should I trouble you with a book which, even if it achieves its object (which is monstrously unlikely) can only be a thundering gallop of theory?

Well, I do it partly because I think you politicians are none the worse for a few inconvenient ideals; but more because you will recognise the many arguments we have had, those arguments which the most wonderful ladies in the world can never endure for very long. And, perhaps, you will agree with me that the thread of comradeship and conversation must be protected because it is so frivolous. It must be held sacred, it must not be snapped, because it is not worth tying together again. It is exactly because argument is idle that men (I mean males) must take it seriously; for when (we feel), until the crack of doom, shall we have so delightful a difference again? But most of all I offer it to you because there exists not only comradeship, but a very different thing, called friendship; an agreement under all the arguments and a thread which, please God, will never break.

Yours always,

G. K. Chesterton.

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