The whole truth about the recent general strike in Great Britain has not yet been told; and perhaps it never will be told until the memoirs of the chief actors in the struggle are published. But we know enough of it already to be sure that when it comes it will be a strange story, smacking more of the fencing school than of the duelling ground, of comic opera than of tragedy. The second of these metaphors is the more pertinent, for certainly this “great struggle” belonged rather to the stage than to the world of reality.
The miners had an unusually good case. They were being asked to accept, at the point of the sword wages which would have reduced tends of thousands of them down to, or even in some cases below, the level of bare subsistence. And this reduction, as well as an increase of hours, was being demanded by a group of men who are notoriously the most stupid, stubborn and inefficient set of employers in Great Britain. The miners therefore had the sympathy of the greater part of the public and also of the press.
"And the Lorde was with Joseph and he was a luckie felowe."' —Genesis xx.xix. 2 (Tyndale's translation). By the end of the sixteenth century the divorce between religious theory and economic realities had long been evident. But in the meantime, within the bosom of religious theory itself, a new system of ideas was being matured, which was destined to revolutionize all traditional values, and to turn over the whole field of social obligations a new and penetrating light.
The Senate Committee, headed by Senator Walsh, is opening up a serious, if not a dangerous, breach in the defences of the administration. A corporation in which the Mellon family is largely interested is accused with some show of reason of conducting its business in defiance of the anti-trust law. A former Attorney-General of the United States, appointed by President Coolidge, believed it to be his duty to prosecute the corporation. But a majority of the Federal Trade Commission, also appointed by Mr.