But does this analogy go far enough? It would be a simple matter, for which we might easily console ourselves, if the author in question merely withheld his own labour. But if he followed modern strike tactics he would do more.
Calling in aid the services of his brother Joseph, he would endeavour by peaceful persuasion to induce Mrs. Asquith, Mr. Arnold Bennett, Mrs. Elinor Glyn, Mr. Compton Mackenzie and others to withhold their labour also. Picketing would follow, and London would be stirred to its depths by the news that Sir Hall Caine was on duty outside the establishment of The Sunday Pictorial, and that Miss Ethel M. Dell was in charge of the squad on the doorstep of the Amalgamated Press.
Sympathetic strikes would develope. The newspaper-vendors would rise and demand that The Daily Mirror feuilleton be suppressed, thus plunging the country into an agony of suspense, and railwaymen would cease work at the sight of any passenger immersed in the most recent instalment of the Home Bits serial story.
Mr. W. W. Jacobs would address mass meetings at the Docks, and Mr. Hilaire Belloc would embark on a resolute thirst-strike. At the same time daily newspapers would compete in offering solutions of the problem. One would say, "For goodness' sake give him the extra paltry one hundred and fifty pounds and let the country get on with its work;" and another would suggest a compromise at one hundred-and-fifty guineas, conditional upon the author's output.
Far from the simple withholding of his labour by a single novelist, such a turmoil would ensue as would not only shake our intellectual life to its foundations, but would keep the Prime Minister engaged in the exploration of interminable vistas of avenue.
Mixed Education.
"Formerly a student at Lady Margaret Hall, Oxford, her husband is a Fellow of Balliol College."
—Local Paper.