POSSIBLE LOSS OF REVENUE.
Here I am reminded of the possible loss of revenue, and this is set up as an insuperable barrier; but I confess, that, when I regard the infinite good from this reform, I am little concerned by any such prospect. Better any possible loss of revenue than the postponement of such a good. Nobody can say positively what the loss will be. It is only an estimate, or, if you please, a guess. Some may make it high, others low. According to the last Reports of the Postmaster-General, the actual deficiency, with the rate of three cents, was $5,353,620, and the estimated deficiency for 1870 is $7,440,413; but in both cases the expenditures are swollen by illegitimate and extrinsic charges on the Post-Office properly belonging to the Treasury. For 1871, with the rate at three cents, the estimated expenditures, swollen by the illegitimate and extrinsic charges, are $25,581,093, with receipts, $20,178,961, leaving a deficiency of $5,402,132.[108]
Making the estimate for 1871 with the rate of one cent, and assuming an increase in correspondence at only one hundred per cent., there would be a deficiency of $12,128,452, from which should be deducted the illegitimate and extrinsic charges properly belonging to the Treasury. Considering these for one moment, you will see how small the deficiency will be; and here I follow the last Report of the Postmaster-General, who does not hesitate to estimate the proportion of free matter in the mails at twenty-five per cent. of the whole, so that, according to him, “it will appear that the Government is bound in honor and justice to appropriate $5,000,000, instead of $700,000 [the present appropriation], for this service.”[109] But with the abolition of the franking system all this postal matter will pay the ordinary rate, and thus contribute to the postal service. Deduct also another sum for the expenditures of outlying routes, justly chargeable upon the Treasury, like the existing franking system.
Such is the whole case as to any possible loss of revenue, which I state with entire frankness; but I cannot doubt that a short period would witness a change, while the people entered into the enjoyment of their great possession. Letters would daily multiply, and the revenue would bear witness to the increase.
THE POST-OFFICE NOT A TAXING MACHINE, BUT A BENEFICENT AGENCY.
Only in obedience to traditional usage have I dwelt thus long on the financial aspect of this question, which to my mind is the least important of all. Not to make money, but to promote the welfare of the people, and to increase the happiness of all,—such is the precious object I would propose; and here I ask no such question as, “Will it pay?” It may not pay in revenue at once, but it will pay in what is above price. Unhappily, the Post-Office, whether at home or abroad, has been from the beginning little more than a taxing machine, a contrivance to raise money, or a “milch cow” with fruitful dugs. In England it was at times farmed out to a speculator, and then again it was charged with the support of a royal mistress or favorite. For its profits only was it regarded, and not for its agency in the concerns of life. In this respect it was not unlike the Government, which was simply a usurpation for the benefit of the few. All this is now changed, at least among us, and Government is the creation of the people for their good. The Post-Office should share this transformation. Instead of a mere taxing machine, or contrivance to raise money, or “milch cow” with fruitful dugs, it should be an omnipresent beneficent minister, reaching its multitudinous hands with help and comfort into all the homes of our wide-spread land. Such it is already in England, to the infinite joy of all. But the omnipresent beneficent minister belongs to a republic more than to a monarchy. Cheap postage is a republican institution. If England has anticipated us, we may at least profit by her example.
It is because Senators see the Post-Office only in its least elevated, not to say its most vulgar character, that there is any hesitation. Contemplate for one moment, if you please, its great and beautiful office. It is the universal messenger of a people, bearing tidings of all kinds, whether of business, hope, affection, charity, joy, or sorrow, and articulating them throughout the land. There is nothing that man can do, desire, or feel, which is not contained in the various and abounding errand. The letters of a single day are the epitome of life, and this service is unceasing. Every day this messenger flies over the land, from city to city, from town to town, from village to village, from house to house, leaving everywhere the welcome token. Such a messenger is more than a winged Mercury, with sandalled feet and purse in hand, whose special care was commerce; it is an angel in reality, as in name. In the ancient Greek, from which the word is derived, an angel was a messenger; and is not the office of our messenger angelic? But by what rule or reason can you tax such a messenger in his great and beautiful office?
A letter is simply conversation in writing, and therefore, by strictness of logic, the tax you impose is a tax on conversation. Reflect a moment on the part performed by conversation in the education of men and in the economies of life; and here I give you testimony. Once at Mr. Webster’s table I heard the question discussed, “From what do men derive most of what they know?” The scholars about him answered,—one naming “Our Mothers,” another “Schools,” another “Books,” another “Newspapers,” when the host, who had listened to each, remarked, very gravely, “You forget Conversation, from which, in my judgment, we derive the larger part of what we know.” Who shall say that Mr. Webster was not right? It is clear that conversation is a wonderful educator and a constant servant. But conversation in writing, no matter on what subject, whether of business or of the heart, is now subject to an unrelenting tax, so that persons conversing by letter must not only pay the cost of the intermediary in their own case, but must contribute to the expense of other conversations elsewhere.
THAT THE POST-OFFICE MUST SUPPORT ITSELF A FALLACY.
Custom makes us insensible to folly, and even to injustice. Thus the tax on letters has gained an undeserved immunity, which is augmented by a prevailing notion, sometimes supposed to find authority even in the Constitution, that the Post-Office must support itself. Whether regarded as rule or maxim or provision of the Constitution, it is without foundation, and sooner or later will be classed with those “vulgar errors” which are as disturbing in government as in science. There is nothing in the Constitution or in reason to distinguish the Post-Office in this respect from the Army, the Navy, or the Judiciary. The Constitution confers upon Congress the power “to establish post-offices and post-roads,” precisely as it confers upon Congress the power “to raise and support armies,” the power “to provide and maintain a navy,” and the power “to constitute tribunals inferior to the Supreme Court”; and in each of these cases it is empowered “to make all laws which shall be necessary and proper for carrying into execution the foregoing powers.” Nobody suggests that now in peace our armies shall amplify their commissariat by enforced contributions, that our navy shall redouble its economies by supplementary piracy, or that our tribunals inferior to the Supreme Court shall eke out a salary by requisitions on the suitors, to the end that each of these departments may be in some measure “self-supporting.” Why, then, should the Post-Office be subjected to a different rule? Not, surely, because it is less beneficent; not because it is the youngest child of Government, a very Benjamin, coming into being long after the others. But such is the case. The rule for the others is discarded when we come to the Post-Office, and here for the first time we hear that a Department of Government must be “self-supporting.”