everywhere." Government interference is more and more everywhere. We in the United States are very laggard among the nations, but not a month passes in which the sword's tip will not show itself in some new center of conflict. It is nothing in the world but the groping insistence that the public is justly concerned in these disturbances. The sword's point is the public point of view. In the hand of President Cleveland, it had a long thrust in the case of the Pullman strike. It was used by Roosevelt in the Anthracite Coal Commission. It is now a fixed and permanent policy.
Senators and representatives appeared at Lawrence. Rumor had it that Congressional investigations were at hand with purposes to probe deeper than the strike. And so this mill city rouses to the fact that her distress was neither local nor private. Like many another industrial center in recent years, she was an object lesson of industrial maladjustment. Of this maladjustment the nation is becoming conscious and so it, too, plays the sociologist. Very slowly and with much obstinacy, we are learning the great lesson that neither the town nor the state nor the nation can any longer act as if it were sufficient unto itself.
A plaintive Egyptian Pasha has just told us that Turkey could have conquered Italy "if left alone." "We owe our defeat," he says, "to Egypt's neutrality." Together the nations had made Egypt "neutral" and therefore Turkey could not use it as a highway for troops, any more than Italy could strike Turkey by closing the Dardanelles. This water way, too, was neutralized—set apart by world agreement as a kind of consecrated space which lesser units should respect.
