A great disaster is said to be hanging over the
coal trade. The coalowners have lately made such low profits, that they ask the men to submit to a reduction of wages. The men will not, and say that the price must be raised on the public by a halt in production, which will empty the dealers' vaults. The Miners' Federation, which represents 280,000 miners, accepts this proposition, and if its orders are obeyed, work will stop throughout North England on March 12th. Its members think that the public must yield quickly, because if not, the gasworks will be paralysed, and the price of fire for cooking will be insupportable. The miners, it will be observed, have no quarrel with the owners, who, they admit, are making no money ; but rather than suffer themselves, intend, on the principles of brotherly love, to coerce all poor consumers into paying higher prices. The rich will not care. They will, consequently, have the public against them always, an important factor in strikes; the sea is open for any quantity of Belgian or Indian coal—the potential Indian supply is limitless—and science may suddenly cheapen the electric light. There will be suffering for all, and ruin for many individuals, but price will not be permanently forced up to any material degree. London bore the last coal-famine equably, and has forgotten it. It is, of course, possible, if the merchant sailors agree with the miners, and refuse to carry coal, that the struggle may be very severe ; but in that event, industry will be so harassed that the whole country will be aroused, and the old idea of the State working the mines will be very strongly revived. Control over an article of the first necessity only tells at first. The owners of the air could not extort all wealth. They would be simply deprived of their property.
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