The Works of Robert G. Ingersoll, Complete Contents / Dresden Edition—Twelve Volumes

by Robert Green Ingersoll

Productiveness! Let me tell you where that idea of productiveness was hatched, where it was born, the egg out of which it came. It was by the act of March 2, 1799, just after the Revolution, and just after our forefathers had refused to pay their debts, just after they had repudiated the debt of the Confederation, just after they had allowed money to turn to ashes in the pockets of the hero of Yorktown, or had allowed it to become worthless in the hand of the widow and the orphan. In 1799, the time when economy trod upon the heels almost of larceny, our Congress provided that the Postmaster-General should report to Congress after the second year of its establishment every post-road which should not have produced one-third the expense of carrying the mail. Recollect it, and I want you to recollect in this connection that we never established a post-route in the world. We will show that, anyway, if we show nothing else. By the act of 1825 a route was discontinued within three years that did not produce a fourth of the expenses. Now, when those laws were in force the postage was collected at the place of delivery.

But in old times, gentlemen, in Illinois, in 1843, it was considered a misfortune to receive a letter. The neighbors sympathized with a man who got a letter. He had to pay twenty-five cents for it. It took five bushels of corn at that time, five bushels of oats, four bushels of potatoes, ten dozen eggs to get one letter. I have myself seen a farmer in a perturbed state of mind, going from neighbor to neighbor telling of his distress because there was a letter in the post-office for him. In 1851 the postage was reduced to three cents when it was prepaid, and the law provided that the diminution of income should not discontinue any route, neither should it affect the establishment of new routes, and for the first time in the history of our Government the idea of productiveness was abandoned. It was not a question of whether we would make money by it or not; the question was, did the people deserve a mail and was it to the interest of the Government to carry that mail? I am a believer in the diffusion of intelligence. I believe in frequent mails. I believe in keeping every part of this vast Republic together by a knowledge of the same ideas, by a knowledge of the same facts, by becoming acquainted with the same thoughts. If there is anything that is to perpetuate this Republic it is the distribution of intelligence from one end to the other. Just as soon as you stop that we grow provincial; we get little, mean, narrow prejudices; we begin to hate people because we do not know them; we begin to ascribe all our faults to other folks. I believe in the diffusion of intelligence everywhere. I want to give to every man and to every woman the opportunity to know what is happening in the world of thought.

I want to carry the mail to the hut as well as to the palace. I want to carry the mail to the cabin of the white man or the colored man, no matter whether in Georgia, Alabama, or in the Territories. I want to carry him the mail and hand it to him as I hand it to a Vanderbilt or to a Jay Gould. That is my doctrine. The law of 1851 did away with your productiveness nonsense, and when the mails were first put upon railways in the year 1838, the law made a limit, not on account of productiveness, but a limit of cost, and said the mail should not cost to exceed three hundred dollars a mile. Let me correct myself. In 1838 a law was passed that the mails might be carried by railroad provided they did not cost in excess of twenty-five per cent, over the cost of mail coaches. In 1839 that law was repealed, and the law then provided that the pay on railways should be limited to three hundred dollars a mile. So you see how much productiveness has to do with this business. In 1861 Congress provided for an overland mail. Did they look out for productiveness? The overland mail in 1861 was a little golden thread by which the Pacific and the Atlantic could be united through the great war. Just a mail, carrying now and then a letter in 1861, and they were allowed, I think, twenty or thirty days to cross. Was productiveness thought of? Congress provided that they might pay for that service eight hundred thousand dollars a year. The mail did not exceed a thousand pounds. Including everything. Some letters that were carried from this side to the other cost the Government three hundred dollars apiece. What was the object? It was simply that the hearts of the Atlantic and the Pacific might feel each other's throb through the great war. That is all. Suppose some poor misguided attorney had stood up at that time and commenced talking about productiveness. In the presence of these great national objects the cost fades, sinks. It is absolutely lost. Wherever our flag flies I want to see the mail under it. After awhile we established what is known as the free-delivery system. That was first established on the idea of productiveness. Whenever you start a new idea, as a rule, you have to appeal to all the meanness that is in conservatism. Before you can induce conservatives to do a decent action you have to prove to them that it will pay at least ten per cent. So they started that way. They said, "We will only have this free delivery system where it pays." We went on and found the system desirable, and that many people wanted it, and that the revenues of the Post-Office Department were so great that we could afford it, and we commenced having it where it did not pay. Right here in the city of Washington, right here in the capital of the great Republic, we have the free delivery system. Is it productive? Last year we lost twenty-one thousand dollars distributing letters to the attorneys for the prosecution and others. And yet now this District has the impudence to talk about productiveness. If anybody wants to find that fact it can be found on pages 42 and 45 of the Postmaster-General's report. Productiveness! We have now a railway service in the United States. I want to know if that is calculated upon the basis of productiveness. A car starts from the city of New York, and runs twelve hours ahead of the ordinary time to the city of Chicago for the simple purpose of carrying the mail, stopping only where the engine needs water, only when the monster whose bones are steel and whose breath is flame, is tired. Do you suppose that pays? You could scarcely put letters enough into the cars at three cents apiece to pay for the trip. At last we regard this whole country as a unit for this business. We say the American people are to be supplied. We do not care whether they live in New York or in Durango; we do not care whether they are among the steeples of the East or the crags of the West; we do not care whether they live in the villages of New England or whether they are staked out on the plains of New Mexico. For the purpose of the distribution of intelligence this great country is one. Do you see what a big idea that is? When it gets into the heads of some people you have no idea how uncomfortable they feel. I have as much interest in this country as anybody, just exactly, and I am willing to subscribe my share to have this mail carried so that the man on the very western extreme, on the hem of the national garment, may have just as much as the man who lives here in the shadow of the Capitol. You see whenever a man gets to the height where he does not want anything that he is not willing to give somebody else, then he first begins to appreciate what a gentleman is and what an American should be. Productiveness! I say that all the State and Territorial lines have been brushed aside. We do not carry the mail in a State because it pays. We carry it because there are people there; because there are American citizens there; not because it pays. The post-office is not a miser; it is a national benefactor. There are only seventeen States in this Union where the income of the Post-Office Department is equal to the outlay; only seventeen States in this Union. There are twenty-one States in which the mail is carried at a loss. There are ten Territories in which we receive substantially nothing in return for carrying the mail, and there is one District, the District of Columbia. I do not know how many miles square this magnificent territory is; I guess about six. Thirty-six square miles. How much is the loss in this District per annum? About one thousand five hundred dollars a square mile. The annual loss right here in this District is fifty-eight thousand dollars, and yet the citizens of this town are rascally enough to receive the mail, according to the prosecution. Why is it not stopped? Why is not the Postmaster-General indicted for a conspiracy with some one? This little territory, six miles square has a loss of fifty-eight thousand dollars.

If there was a corresponding loss in Kansas, Nebraska, California, Dakota, and Idaho, it would take more than the national debt to run the mail every year. And yet here in thirty-six square miles comes the wail of non-productiveness. It is almost a joke. We are carrying the mail in Kansas at a loss of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year, and yet Kansas has a hundred million bushels of wheat for sale. Good! I am willing to send letters to such people. It is a vast and thriving country. It contains men who have laid the foundation of future empires. I want people big enough and broad enough and wide enough to understand that the valley of the Mississippi will support five hundred millions of people. Let us get some ideas, gentlemen. Let us get some sense. There is nothing like it. We pay five hundred thousand dollars a year for the privilege of carrying the mail in Nebraska. Do you know I am willing to pay my share. Any man who will go out to Nebraska and just let the wind blow on him deserves to have plenty of mail. You do not know here what wind is. You have never felt anything but a zephyr. You have never felt anything but an atmospheric caress. Go and try Nebraska. The wind there will blow a hole out of the ground. Go out there and try one blizzard, a fellow that robs the north pole and comes down on you, and you will be willing to carry the mail to any man that will stay there and plow a hundred and sixty acres of land. When I see a post-office clerk sitting in a good warm room and making a fuss about a chap in Nebraska for not carrying the mail against a blizzard, I have my sentiments. I know what I think of the man. In the Territory of Utah we pay two hundred and thirty thousand dollars a year for the privilege of carrying the mails, and the males in that country are mostly polygamists. I want you to get an idea of this country. In the State of California, that State of gold, that State of wheat, the State that has added more to the metallic wealth of this nation than all others combined, an empire of magnificence, we pay five hundred thousand dollars a year for the privilege of distributing the mail. I am glad of it. I want the pioneer fostered. I want the pioneer to feel the throb of national generosity. I want him to feel that this is his country. You see the post-office is about the only blessing he has. Every other visitor that comes from the General Government wants taxes. The Post-Office Department is the only evidence we possess of national beneficence. It is the only thing that comes from the General Government that has not a warrant, that does not intend to arrest us. In Texas, which is an empire of two hundred and seventy-three thousand square miles, a territory greater than the French empire, which at one time conquered Europe, we pay four hundred and fifty-nine thousand dollars for the privilege of distributing the mail. I am glad of it. It will not be long before that State will have millions of people and give us back millions of dollars each year, and with that surplus we will carry the mail to other Territories. A man who has not pretty big ideas has no business in this country; not a bit. We pay one hundred and eighty-nine thousand dollars for the sake of carrying letters and papers around Arkansas; one hundred and eighty-three thousand dollars for the privilege of wandering up and down Alabama; one hundred and seven thousand dollars in Missouri; two hundred and forty thousand dollars in Ohio; two hundred and eight thousand dollars in Georgia; three hundred and twelve thousand dollars in old Virginia. When I first went to Illinois the Government had to pay for the privilege of carrying the mail in that State. Now Illinois turns around and hands six hundred and sixty thousand dollars of profit to the United States each year. She says, "You carry the mail to the other fellows that cannot afford it just the same as you carried it for us. You rocked our cradle, and we will pay for rocking somebody else's cradle." That is sense. In other words, in seventeen States we have a profit of seven million dollars. In twenty-one States, ten Territories, and the District of Columbia we have a loss of five million dollars. When we regard the country as a unit, then we make money out of the whole business. That is good. We have in the United States about a hundred and ten thousand miles of railroad now, and we pay about two hundred dollars a mile for carrying the mail on those railroads. We have two hundred and twenty-seven thousand miles of star routes, and we pay on them between twenty and thirty dollars a mile. I want you to think about it. In looking over the Post-master-General's report I accidentally came across this fact. You know, gentlemen, the present period is a paroxysmal period of reform. We are having what is known as a virtuous spasm. We have that every little while. It is a kind of fiscal mumps or whooping-cough. I find by this report that a mail averaging twenty pounds carried in a baggage-car from Connellsville to Uniontown, Pennsylvania, is paid for at the rate of forty-two dollars and seventy-two cents a mile. Under General Brady the star routes cost between twenty and thirty dollars a mile.

Now, gentlemen, I have told you our connection with the star-route business. I have told it all to you freely, frankly, and fully. Some charges have been made against us, and I want to speak to you about them. You understand that it often takes quite awhile to explain a charge that is made in only a few words. One man can say another did so and so. It is only a lie, and yet it may take pages for the accused man to make his explanation. The worst lie in the world is a lie which is partly true. You understand that. When you explain a lie that has a little circumstance going along with it, certifying to it, and attesting to its truth, it takes you a great deal longer to explain it than it did to tell it. The first great charge is that for us—and I limit myself to my clients—orders were antedated. That is one great charge. Let me tell you just how that was. Mr. Bliss calls attention to the fact that Mr. Brady made orders relating back, and in one case he alleged that the order was made, for the benefit of my clients, to take effect six weeks prior to its being issued. I want to explain that. A railroad was being constructed along the line of one of these routes. It may be well enough for me to say that it was the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad. The points from which the mail was carried had to be changed as the road progressed. As it grew Mr. Brady increased the service on the route to seven times a week. He increased it from the end of the railroad, and he made it seven times a week because the mail on the railroad was seven times a week. We were to carry the mail from the end of the railroad, wherever that end might be. He increased the service on this route from the end of the railroad to the other terminal point; that is, he made it a daily mail so as to connect with the daily trains on the railroad. At the time the seven trips were to be put on, distance tables were sent out to postmasters at the terminal points to get the distances. Let me tell you what a distance table is. The names of the post-offices are on a circular, and the Post-Office Department sends that circular to the postmasters along the route and they are asked to return it with the distance from each station to every other marked upon it. Now, until that table is returned it is impossible for the Second Assistant Postmaster-General to tell how far they carry the mail. This railroad was progressing every month, and as the railroad advanced the distance from the end of the railroad to the other terminal point decreased. Now, the Postmaster-General or the Second Assistant cannot fix that pay until he has a return of the distance table. But before he has that return he can order the contractor to carry the mail, and after the distance table is returned then he can make up the formal order and have that order entered upon the records of the department. That is all he ever did. I want you to understand that perfectly. It might be four weeks after the contractor was ordered to carry the mail from the termination of the railroad, or it might be five or six weeks before the distance tables were returned and the distance calculated. But do you not see it made no difference? There was first an order either by telegraph or a short order, and after the distance tables were returned then the distance was calculated, the amount of money calculated, and the regular order written up and made of record, and a warrant drawn for payment. That is all there is to it. And yet this is what Mr. Bliss calls defrauding the Government. We are charged on that kind of evidence with having defrauded the United States. We will show you that no order of that kind was made except when the distance was unknown; and that when the distance was ascertained, the formal order was made, another order having been made before that time. Let me say right here that orders of a similar nature have been made in the Post-Office Department since its establishment. Since the construction of railways there has not a month passed in that department—certainly not a year—when such orders have not been made. And yet for the first time in the history of the Government it is brought forward against us as an evidence of fraud. We will show that the order was made exactly as I have stated.

The next badge of fraud that is charged is that after a route had been awarded to us it was increased or expedited, or both, before the stock was put on. Well, I will tell you just how that is, because you want to know. This case, apparently complicated, is infinitely simple when it is understood. There are in the United States, I believe, some ten thousand of these star routes. They are all or nearly all in some way connected. One depends upon another. It is a web woven over the entire West, and how you run a mail here depends upon how one is run there, and the effort is to have all these mails connect in a certain harmony so that time will not be lost, and so that each letter will get to its destination in the shortest possible time, and it requires not only a great deal of experience, but it requires a great deal of ingenuity. It requires a great deal of study and strict attention for a man so to arrange the routes and the time in the United States that the letters can be gotten to their destination in the shortest possible time. And yet that is the object. You can see that. Now, you may be looking at the route from A to B, and say that there is no sense in having it in that time; but if you will look at the time of other routes, if you see with what routes that connects you will say that it is sensible. Now, you go on to another route, and, gentlemen, you see that every solitary route is touched, is compromised, is affected by every other route. That is what I want you to understand.

Now, then, Mr. Bliss says that it was a badge of fraud to increase the time and the service on a route before the stock was put on. Now let me show you. Here you have your scheme. Here is the route, we will say, from A to E. You let that for a weekly route, once a week. How fast? A hundred hours. When you get the other routes and look at this business you see that that crosses several places where the mail is lost. That is where a day is lost, and you see, if instead of that being a hundred hours it were seventy-five hours the mail at many stations would save one day or two days. Now, then, the law vests in you the power before a solitary horse or carriage goes upon that route to say to the man to whom the contract was awarded, "You must carry that in seventy-five hours instead of one hundred hours, and you must carry it four times a week instead of once a week." If you take that power from the Postmaster-General and from the Second Assistant those offices become useless. It is impossible for any human intellect to take into consideration all the facts growing out of this service.

There is another thing, gentlemen, which you must remember, and that is that these advertisements for this service are not made the day the service is wanted. These advertisements are put out six months before there is to be any such service.

It is sometimes a year before that service is wanted, and if you know anything about the West you know that in one year the whole thing may change. That where there was not a city there may be a city, and where there was a city nothing but desolation. Now, then, the law very wisely has vested the power in the Second Assistant and the Postmaster-General to rectify all the mistakes made either by themselves or by time, and to call for faster time or for slower, that is, for less frequent trips. Now, then, you see that that is no badge of fraud, do you not? If, before you put a man or a horse on that route, the Government finds it wants twice as many trips there is no fraud in saying so, and if they find they want to go in fifty hours instead of a hundred hours there would be fraud in not saying so. That has been the practice since this was a Government.

Now, what is the next? The next great charge against us, gentlemen, is that when they agreed to carry a greater number of trips, or any swifter time for money, Mr. Brady did not make us give an additional bond, and Mr. Bliss talked about that I should think about a day. Nearly all the time I heard him he was on that subject. "Why did they not when they were to carry additional trips give a new bond?" Well, I will tell you why: Because there is no law for it. There never was a law for it—never. And Mr. Brady had no right to demand a bond unless the statute provided for it. When I give a bond to carry the mail once a week, and the Government finds that it wants it carried three times a week, the Government cannot make me give an additional bond. Why? Because the statute does not provide for it, and Mr. Brady had not the power to enact new laws. That is all. Why, there never was such a bond given, and any bond that is given under duress, by compulsion, not having the foundation of a statute, is absolutely null and void. Everybody knows it that knows anything. And yet the gentleman comes before you and says it is a sign of fraud that we did not give an additional bond. There never was such a bond given in the history of this Government—never; and in all probability never will be unless these gentlemen get into Congress. You know the law prescribes every bond that the contractor must give, and it is bad enough without ever being increased during the contract term.