at they will have to discard all those
elements in their midst that are forever ready to reconcile the
irreconcilable, namely Capital and Labor. They will have to learn
that characters like David Roberts are the very forces that have
revolutionized the world and thus paved the way for emancipation out
of the clutches of that "white-faced monster with bloody lips,"
towards a brighter horizon, a freer life, and a deeper recognition of
human values.

No subject of equal social import has received such extensive
consideration within the last few years as the question of prison and
punishment.

Hardly any magazine of consequence that has not devoted its columns
to the discussion of this vital theme. A number of books by able
writers, both in America and abroad, have discussed this topic from
the historic, psychologic, and social standpoint, all agreeing that
present penal institutions and our mode of coping with crime have in
every respect proved inadequate as well as wasteful. One would
expect that something very radical should result from the cumulative
literary indictment of the social crimes perpetrated upon the
prisoner. Yet with the exception of a few minor and comparatively
insignificant reforms in some of our prisons, absolutely nothing has
been accomplished. But at last this grave social wrong has found
dramatic interpretation in Galworthy's JUSTICE.

The play opens in the office of James How and Sons, Solicitors. The
senior clerk, Robert Cokeson, discovers that a check he had issued
for nine pounds has been forged to ninety. By elimination, suspicion
falls upon William Falder, the junior office clerk. The latter is in
love with a married woman, the abused, ill-treated wife of a brutal
drunkard. Pressed by his employer, a severe yet not unkindly man,
Falder confesses the forgery, pleading the dire necessity of his
sweetheart, Ruth Honeywill, with whom he had planned to escape to
save her from the unbearable brutality of her husband.
Notwithstanding the entreaties of young Walter, who is touched by
modern ideas, his father, a moral and law-respecting citizen, turns
Falder over to the police.

The second act, in the court-room, shows Justice in the very process
of manufacture. The scene equals in dramatic power and psychologic
verity the great court scene in RESURRECTION. Young Falder, a
nervous and rather weakly youth of twenty-three, stands before the
bar. Ruth, his married sweetheart, full of love