quite recently, for all sensible people, either a laughing stock or a terror; a thing to be passed over or a thing to be stamped out; not a thing to be weighed dispassionately and to be dealt with on its merits.

But during the past few years, and especially during the past twelve months, the situation has changed in a very remarkable way. The growth of trade-unionism, and the international character which it has assumed, have been putting the practical side of social reform before us in an entirely new light, and have provided it suddenly, for the first time, with a policy which admits of discussion on the part of sensible people. And this policy does more than admit of discussion. Wonderful to relate, it demands discussion. Despite the failures which, in its more ambitious attempts, trade-unionism may have met with, the mere fact that such attempts have been made in the way they have been made, is enough to suggest that they may be more successful in the future. They all point to the possibility of one and the same thing—a federation of labor over the whole civilized world. This, at all events, as a practical end to aim at, is fast taking the place, among the aspirants after social change, of plots, risings, massacres, and explosions either of dynamite or of love; and whether the end will ever be realized or not, it will be at all events not idle to inquire what we may hope or fear as the result of it if it should be realized.

Let us suppose, then, the federation of labor to be carried to the utmost extent of which theoretically it is capable. Let us suppose all the working classes over the entire civilized world to be so grouped in unions, the unions to be so connected, the interests of all of them to be thought by themselves so identical, the organization and discipline of the whole to be so complete, and the influence of the whole over the various governments to be such, that all laborers form a single corporate body. How would labor, in that case, stand related to capital? How would the laborers stand related to the employers of labor? If the answer to this question is what our latest revolutionaries expect, unionism thus developed would accomplish all their dreams. By an irresistible, but bloodless, and perhaps gradual, process, capital would pass away from the hands of the capital

ists, the employers of labor would no longer be employers, and all wealth would, in a measurable time, be redistributed. The way in which it is thought that this change would accomplish itself is obvious. If all laborers should be members of a universal union, undivided in counsel and completely organized in action, any employer who should offend that union would be instantly left without any laborers to employ. In other words, labor would be in a position to dictate terms to capital, instead of capital dictating terms to labor. Nor would the case be mended if all the employers of the world, as well as the laborers, should be organized. Indeed, to understand the hypothetical situation fully, we must suppose such to be the case; and the ultimate factors in the social struggle would thus be a universal strike opposed to a universal lock-out. Now, although in a struggle which is partial, and which lasts but a short time, capital may, in power of endurance, have the advantage over labor, it may easily be argued that if the struggle should become universal, labor would tend to have the advantage over capital. For capital without labor is not only powerless and useless, but unless it is used by labor it rapidly wastes away; whereas labor, even by itself, would at least produce something, and might in time provide itself with new capital. In addition to this, we must remember that while the capitalists would be few, the laborers would be many; and physical force, though it might never be actually appealed to, would give its weight to labor, silently supporting it in the background. Making, then, the assumption, for argument's sake, that labor can ever universalize and perfect its organization, the time must arrive when, at all events for the moment, capital and the possessors of capital will be altogether at its mercy. The capitalists will have before them only two courses-either to allow their capital to be used under such conditions and on such terms as the laborer may dictate, or not to allow it to be used at all. In this last case, it would benefit neither themselves nor others; and even though it might be handed over to nobody else, they themselves would be practically dispossessed of it. A man, for all practical purposes, is as completely expropriated if he is not allowed to use his money, as he is if his money is actually taken away from him. On the other hand, if the capital of

the world should be employed on terms dictated by labor, it is certain that such wages would be exacted as would leave to the capitalists no profit or interest. In this case, therefore, just as much as in the other, they would virtually be expropriated; their whole wealth would be withdrawn from them. And this, indeed, is the precise situation which English ship-owners have seen actually menacing them. If they should employ their capital on the terms demanded by their men, no profits would be left them; and they themselves, as they have distinctly told the public, would be no worse off if they should suspend their business altogether. Now, in an isolated case like this, such a suspension might be possible. A single body of employers might, in the last resort, be able for a time to keep their capital idle; but it is practically certain that the same thing could not be done with the whole capital of the world, in opposition to the whole of the laborers. The capital would continue to be employed, but it would be employed on the laborers' terms. The capitalists might not technically be robbed of their property, but they would have no share in its control or in its revenue; and though nominally they would have lost nothing, in reality they would have lost everything. And this brings us to two allimportant questions: Could such a situation be brought about? And if it could be brought about, could it last? Or, in other words, would labor be able to keep what, in this case, for the moment, it would inevitably win? To both these questions the answer will be, No; for reasons some of which may be said to lie on the surface, while others have a tendency to be always sinking beneath it.

To begin, then, we must admit that the recent developments of trade-unionism have been surprising in the last degree, and vividly suggest the kind of result we have been considering, though they do not promise or portend it. They force on the imagination a picture of that result, but they do not offer to the judgment any indications that it is possible to realize it. On the contrary, if we consider them dispassionately, they do the precise opposite. In the first place, the following facts must become apparent to us. The wider the attempted scope of the union or federation that we speak of, the more difficult will become the task of

uniting the various sections to be comprised in it, and the greater will be the antagonism of interests between these sections. Until all the climates and soils of the world shall offer equal advantages to the laborer, there never can be a community of interest between the laborers of all countries; and as the laborers become owners of the soils that they occupy, the diversity of interests will be more and more apparent. It has often afforded matter for useless wonder to philosophers, that the various peoples should consent to supply soldiers to fight and die for the ambition and aggrandizement of their rulers. It is a fact, however, that the various peoples have done this; and if they have fought and died for the advantage of others, we can hardly doubt that they would do the same for the advantage of themselves. The laborers of different countries, in fact, are natural allies only so long as they are in the presence of what they think to be a common foe-capital; and if once that foe should be removed or crippled, they would find bitterer foes in one another than they ever found in it.

These difficulties, however, I only mention in passing. I not only do not purpose to dwell on them, but for argument's sake I will suppose that they do not exist, and will proceed to others, which, though less apparent, are far deeper and far better worth discussing. Let us suppose, then, that the first great step has been accomplished, and that, despite the difficulty of organizing vast masses and of harmonizing discordant interests, all the laborers of the world are united in one corporate body and are actually, in the way already described, confronting the capitalists and the employers. Now, would the fact that the laborers had advanced thus far afford any proof that they would be able to advance so much farther as to make any permanent use of the partial advantage they had gained? It would certainly, at first sight, seem that the answer to this question must be, Yes. "Here," it would be argued, "is labor led by its own leaders. With no instruction, with no dictation from above, it has shown itself capable of organizing and directing itself. What doubt can there be that the leaders who have brought it thus far will be competent to bring it one step farther, and teach it how to appropriate the fruit that is already in its hands? If labor can

organize itself in this marvelous way to resist capital, who can doubt that it can organize itself to employ capital?" There we have in a few words the argument which presents itself to our latest prophets of labor, and which they present, with not unnatural triumph, to alarmed or sanguine hearers. It is an argument, however, vitiated by a fallacy which seems commonly to escape not only those who use it, but those who would give anything to refute it. What we are asked to consider is how certain men have succeeded in organizing labor, and what a formidable thing they have made of it. But in reality what these leaders have done has been something quite different. They have organized laboring men, but they have not organized labor. On the contrary, they have organized idleness-abstention from labor. It is impossible to over-estimate the importance of this distinction. The whole ostensible object of the leaders of the labor movement is to secure for labor the wealth which, according to these leaders, labor produces. But the amount of wealth which labor produces, or, in other words, the amount of the prize for the possession of which labor is contending, depends on the skill with which the labor of the laborers is organized, not on the skill with which the idleness of the laborers is organized. Their organized idleness is no doubt a valuable weapon, but it is valuable for militant purposes only, not for productive purposes. It may assist them to seize on the instruments of production, but it does not tend to give them any skill in using these, any more than the ability to rob a man of a fiddle tends of itself to turn a burglar into a musician. Thus the ability of the laborers to organize a universal strike might show that they are able to take all the wealth of the employers from them, but it would not indicate any ability whatever to transfer any fraction of this wealth to themselves. Thus far the productivity of labor has depended on the skill of the employers in commanding it and directing it. If the employers are to be ousted, and if labor is to maintain its present productivity and not to sink into a hopeless and helpless chaos, men with similar powers of command and similar skill must be found to take their place; and the question is, Would such men be forthcoming?

Let us consider exactly what this question involves. It is