discomfited. As all the workers are to be brought in, the lowest possible dues must be charged or even no dues at all. The strike then becomes supreme. It must be short, sharp and unexpected. It must be sudden and explosive to show its power. It must aim at the most vital spot. For practice, you may keep your hand in by strikes in smaller industries, but transportation is the great target,—the railroad best of all, because it is the nerve system of distribution. Cripple this, and hunger will stalk the streets within a fortnight. Always, too, sabotage is in order. It frets and harries the employer. It strikes at his profits. With skill and a "fine conspiracy " among the laborers, the spoiled product cannot be traced. The destroyer may work as subtly as a disease with no fear of punishment.
This gospel of destruction has a quite fascinating versatility. On the one hand we are assured that capitalism has reached senility. Though never more prolific of depravity, never more active in parasitic lecheries, its real power is so near its end, that a few years of adroit and vigorous assault and it will tumble of its own weight.
Others speak as if the strength of capitalism was never so great. The proof offered is that three generations of social and other legislation meant to curb its power have obviously failed.
The supposed discovery of this failure of political and social reform is vital. If these attempts have done nothing to relieve the exploitation of the weak: if reform does not even show a tendency to such alleviation then sedition may justify itself.
