LABOR, AND TARIFF REFORM.

Question. What, in your opinion, is the condition of labor in this country as compared with that abroad?

Answer. In the first place, it is self-evident that if labor received more in other lands than in this the tide of emigration would be changed. The workingmen would leave our shores. People who believe in free trade are always telling us that the laboring man is paid much better in Germany than in the United States, and yet nearly every ship that comes from Germany is crammed with Germans, who, for some unaccountable reason, prefer to leave a place where they are doing well and come to one where they must do worse.

The same thing can be said of Denmark and Sweden, of England, Scotland, Ireland and of Italy. The truth is, that in all those lands the laboring man can earn just enough to-day to do the work of to-morrow; everything he earns is required to get food enough in his body and rags enough on his back to work from day to day, to toil from week to week. There are only three luxuries within his reach—air, light, and water; probably a fourth might be added —death.

In those countries the few own the land, the few have the capital, the few make the laws, and the laboring man is not a power. His opinion in neither asked nor heeded. The employers pay as little as they can. When the world becomes civilized everybody will want to pay what things are worth, but now capital is perfectly willing that labor shall remain at the starvation line. Competition on every hand tends to put down wages. The time will come when the whole community will see that justice is economical. If you starve laboring men you increase crime; you multiply, as they do in England, workhouses, hospitals and all kinds of asylums, and these public institutions are for the purpose of taking care of the wrecks that have been produced by greed and stinginess and meanness—that is to say, by the ignorance of capital.

Question. What effect has the protective tariff on the condition of labor in this country?

Answer. To the extent that the tariff keeps out the foreign article it is a direct protection to American labor. Everything in this country is on a larger scale than in any other. There is far more generosity among the manufacturers and merchants and millionaires and capitalists of the United States than among those of any other country, although they are bad enough and mean enough here.

But the great thing for the laboring man in the United States is that he is regarded as a man. He is a unit of political power. His vote counts just as much as that of the richest and most powerful. The laboring man has to be consulted. The candidate has either to be his friend or to pretend to be his friend, before he can succeed. A man running for the presidency could not say the slightest word against the laboring man, or calculated to put a stain upon industry, without destroying every possible chance of success. Generally, every candidate tries to show that he is a laboring man, or that he was a laboring man, or that his father was before him. There is in this country very little of the spirit of caste—the most infamous spirit that ever infested the heartless breast of the brainless head of a human being.

Question. What will be the effect on labor of a departure in American policy in the direction of free trade?

Answer. If free trade could be adopted to-morrow there would be an instant shrinkage of values in this country. Probably the immediate loss would equal twenty billion dollars—that is to say, one-third of the value of the country. No one can tell its extent. All thing are so interwoven that to destroy one industry cripples another, and the influence keeps on until it touches the circumference of human interests.

I believe that labor is a blessing. It never was and never will be a curse. It is a blessed thing to labor for your wife and children, for your father and mother, and for the ones you love. It is a blessed thing to have an object in life—something to do— something to call into play your best thoughts, to develop your faculties and to make you a man. How beautiful, how charming, are the dreams of the young mechanic, the artist, the musician, the actor and the student. How perfectly stupid must be the life of a young man with nothing to do, no ambition, no enthusiasm—that is to say, nothing of the divine in him; the young man with an object in life, of whose brain a great thought, a great dream has taken possession, and in whose heart there is a great, throbbing hope. He looks forward to success—to wife, children, home—all the blessings and sacred joys of human life. He thinks of wealth and fame and honor, and of a long, genial, golden, happy autumn.

Work gives the feeling of independence, of self-respect. A man who does something necessarily puts a value on himself. He feels that he is a part of the world's force. The idler—no matter what he says, no matter how scornfully he may look at the laborer—in his very heart knows exactly what he is; he knows that he is a counterfeit, a poor worthless imitation of a man.

But there is a vast difference between work and what I call "toil." What must be the life of a man who can earn only one dollar or two dollars a day? If this man has a wife and a couple of children how can the family live? What must they eat? What must they wear? From the cradle to the coffin they are ignorant of any luxury of life. If the man is sick, if one of the children dies, how can doctors and medicines be paid for? How can the coffin or the grave be purchased? These people live on what might be called "the snow line"—just at that point where trees end and the mosses begin. What are such lives worth? The wages of months would hardly pay for the ordinary dinner of the family of a rich man. The savings of a whole life would not purchase one fashionable dress, or the lace on it. Such a man could not save enough during his whole life to pay for the flowers of a fashionable funeral.

And yet how often hundreds of thousands of persons, who spend thousands of dollars every year on luxuries, really wonder why the laboring people should complain. They are astonished when a car driver objects to working fourteen hours a day. Men give millions of dollars to carry the gospel to the heathen, and leave their own neighbors without bread; and these same people insist on closing libraries and museums of art on Sunday, and yet Sunday is the only day that these institutions can be visited by the poor.

They even want to stop the street cars so that these workers, these men and women, cannot go to the parks or the fields on Sunday. They want stages stopped on fashionable avenues so that the rich may not be disturbed in their prayers and devotions.

The condition of the workingman, even in America, is bad enough. If free trade will not reduce wages what will? If manufactured articles become cheaper the skilled laborers of America must work cheaper or stop producing the articles. Every one knows that most of the value of a manufactured article comes from labor. Think of the difference between the value of a pound of cotton and a pound of the finest cotton cloth; between a pound of flax and enough point lace to weigh a pound; between a few ounces of paint, two or three yards of canvas and a great picture; between a block of stone and a statue! Labor is the principal factor in price; when the price falls wages must go down.

I do not claim that protection is for the benefit of any particular class, but that it is for the benefit not only of that particular class, but of the entire country. In England the common laborer expects to spend his old age in some workhouse. He is cheered through all his days of toil, through all his years of weariness, by the prospect of dying a respectable pauper. The women work as hard as the men. They toil in the iron mills. They make nails, they dig coal, they toil in the fields.

In Europe they carry the hod, they work like beasts and with beasts, until they lose almost the semblance of human beings—until they look inferior to the animals they drive. On the labor of these deformed mothers, of these bent and wrinkled girls, of little boys with the faces of old age, the heartless nobility live in splendor and extravagant idleness. I am not now speaking of the French people, as France is the most prosperous country in Europe.

Let us protect our mothers, our wives and our children from the deformity of toil, from the depths of poverty.

Question. Is not the ballot an assurance to the laboring man that he can get fair treatment from his employer?

Answer. The laboring man in this country has the political power, provided he has the intelligence to know it and the intelligence to use it. In so far as laws can assist labor, the workingman has it in his power to pass such laws; but in most foreign lands the laboring man has really no voice. It is enough for him to work and wait and suffer and emigrate. He can take refuge in the grave or go to America.

In the old country, where people have been taught that all blessing come from the king, it is very natural for the poor to believe the other side of that proposition—that is to say, all evils come from the king, from the government. They are rocked in the cradle of this falsehood. So when they come to this country, if they are unfortunate, it is natural for them to blame the Government.

The discussion of these questions, however, has already done great good. The workingman is becoming more and more intelligent. He is getting a better idea every day of the functions and powers and limitations of government, and if the problem is ever worked out— and by "problem" I mean the just and due relations that should exist between labor and capital—it will be worked out here in America.

Question. What assurance has the American laborer that he will not be ultimately swamped by foreign immigration?

Answer. Most of the immigrants that come to American come because they want a home. Nearly every one of them is what you may call "land hungry." In his country, to own a piece of land was to be respectable, almost a nobleman. The owner of a little land was regarded as the founder of a family—what you might call a "village dynasty." When they leave their native shores for America, their dream is to become a land owner—to have fields, to own trees, and to listen to the music of their own brooks.

The moment they arrive the mass of them seek the West, where land can be obtained. The great Northwest now is being filled with Scandinavian farmers, with persons from every part of Germany—in fact from all foreign countries—and every year they are adding millions of acres to the plowed fields of the Republic. This land hunger, this desire to own a home, to have a field, to have flocks and herds, to sit under your own vine and fig tree, will prevent foreign immigration from interfering to any hurtful degree with the skilled workmen of America. These land owners, these farmers, become consumers of manufactured articles. They keep the wheels and spindles turning and the fires in the forges burning.

Question. What do you think of Cleveland's message?

Answer. Only the other day I read a speech made by the Hon. William D. Kelley, of Pennsylvania, upon this subject, in which he says in answer to what he calls "the puerile absurdity of President Cleveland's assumption" that the duty is always added to the cost, not only of imported commodities, but to the price of like commodities produced in this country, "that the duties imposed by our Government on sugar reduced to ad valorem were never so high as now, and the price of sugar was never in this country so low as it is now." He also showed that this tax on sugar has made it possible for us to produce sugar from other plants and he gives the facts in relation to corn sugar.

We are now using annually nineteen million bushels of corn for the purpose of making glucose or corn sugar. He shows that in this industry alone there has been a capital invested of eleven million dollars; that seven hundred and thirty-two thousand acres of land are required to furnish the supply, and that this one industry now gives employment to about twenty-two thousand farmers, about five thousand laborers in factories, and that the annual value of this product of corn sugar is over seventeen million dollars.

He also shows what we may expect from the cultivation of the beet. I advise every one to read that speech, so that they may have some idea of the capabilities of this country, of the vast wealth asking for development, of the countless avenues opened for ingenuity, energy and intelligence.

Question. Does the protective tariff cheapen the prices of commodities to the laboring man?

Answer. In this there are involved two questions. If the tariff is so low that the foreign article is imported, of course this tariff is added to the cost and must be paid by the consumer; but if the protective tariff is so high that the importer cannot pay it, and as a consequence the article is produced in America, then it depends largely upon competition whether the full amount of the tariff will be added to the article. As a rule, competition will settle that question in America, and the article will be sold as cheaply as the producers can afford.

For instance: If there is a tariff, we will say of fifty cents on a pair of shoes, and this tariff is so low that the foreign article can afford to pay it, then that tariff, of course, must be paid by the consumer. But suppose the tariff was five dollars on a pair of shoes—that is to say, absolutely prohibitory—does any man in his senses say that five dollars would be added to each pair of American shoes? Of course, the statement is the answer.

I think it is the duty of the laboring man in this country, first, thoroughly to post himself upon these great questions, to endeavor to understand his own interest as well as the interest of his country, and if he does, I believe he will arrive at the conclusion that it is far better to have the country filled with manufacturers than to be employed simply in the raising of raw material. I think he will come to the conclusion that we had better have skilled labor here, and that it is better to pay for it than not to have it. I think he will find that it is better for America to be substantially independent of the rest of the world. I think he will conclude that nothing is more desirable than the development of American brain, and that nothing better can be raised than great and splendid men and women. I think he will conclude that the cloud coming from the factories, from the great stacks and chimneys, is the cloud on which will be seen, and always seen, the bow of American promise.

Question. What have you to say about tariff reform?

Answer. I have this to say: That the tariff is for the most part the result of compromises—that is, one State wishing to have something protected agrees to protect something else in some other State, so that, as a matter of fact, many things are protected that need no protection, and many things are unprotected that ought to be cared for by the Government.

I am in favor of a sensible reform of the tariff—that is to say, I do not wish to put it in the power of the few to practice extortion upon the many. Congress should always be wide awake, and whenever there is any abuse it should be corrected. At the same time, next to having the tariff just—next in importance is to have it stable. It does us great injury to have every dollar invested in manufactures frightened every time Congress meets. Capital should feel secure. Insecurity calls for a higher interest, wants to make up for the additional risk, whereas, when a dollar feels absolutely certain that it is well invested, that it is not to be disturbed, it is satisfied with a very low rate of interest.

The present agitation—the message of President Cleveland upon these questions—will cost the country many hundred millions of dollars.

Question. I see that some one has been charging that Judge Gresham is an Infidel?

Answer. I have known Judge Gresham for many years, and of course have heard him talk upon many subjects, but I do not remember ever discussing with him a religious topic. I only know that he believes in allowing every man to express his opinions, and that he does not hate a man because he differs with him. I believe that he believes in intellectual hospitality, and that he would give all churches equal rights, and would treat them all with the utmost fairness. I regard him as a fair-minded, intelligent and honest man, and that is enough for me. I am satisfied with the way he acts, and care nothing about his particular creed. I like a manly man, whether he agrees with me or not. I believe that President Garfield was a minister of the Church of the Disciples—that made no difference to me. Mr. Blaine is a member of some church in Augusta—I care nothing for that. Whether Judge Gresham belongs to any church, I do not know. I never asked him, but I know he does not agree with me by a large majority.

In this country, where a divorce has been granted between church and state, the religious opinions of candidates should be let alone. To make the inquiry is a piece of impertinence—a piece of impudence. I have voted for men of all persuasions and expect to keep right on, and if they are not civilized enough to give me the liberty they ask for themselves, why I shall simply set them an example of decency.

Question. What do you think of the political outlook?

Answer. The people of this country have a great deal of intelligence. Tariff and free trade and protection and home manufactures and American industries—all these things will be discussed in every schoolhouse of the country, and in thousands and thousands of political meetings, and when next November comes you will see the Democratic party overthrown and swept out of power by a cyclone. All other questions will be lost sight of. Even the Prohibitionists would rather drink beer in a prosperous country than burst with cold water and hard times.

The preservation of what we have will be the great question. This is the richest country and the most prosperous country, and I believe that the people have sense enough to continue the policy that has given them those results. I never want to see the civilization of the Old World, or rather the barbarism of the Old World, gain a footing on this continent. I am an American. I believe in American ideas—that is to say, in equal rights, and in the education and civilization of all the people.

New York Press, June 3, 1888.