cumulated by the toiling masses. At the price of robbing our war veterans of half the value of their pensions. At the price of greatly increasing the number of unemployed by discouraging enterprise, and of curtailing the value of wages of those remaining at work. At the price of the respect of the world for our intelligence and practical sense. And worse, far worse than all this, at the price of something that has never been forfeited since this Republic was born—at the price of the greatest good a nation can possess, and for the preservation of which it should shed its last drop of blood—at the price of our National honor. For this Nation, so rich and powerful, would stand before the world as a wanton, reckless repudiator, as nothing better than a fraudulent bankrupt. This will be the cost of the experiment. Are you willing to pay this price?
It is not my habit to boast of a warm heart for the poor and suffering. But my sympathy is no less sincere because I do not carry my love and solicitude for the common people constantly at my tongue's end. If there be those who are satisfied with everything that exists, I am not one of them. There are few, if any, who abhor that which may properly be called plutocracy, or detest the arrogance of wealth more heartily than I do. I know, also, that the industrial developments of our time have brought hardship to some classes of people which only the more sagacious, active and energetic among them have been able to counterbalance profitably with its benefits. There are laws and practices which, had I the power, I would promptly change, in the interest of common justice and equity. But because I am so minded, I must oppose to the utmost a policy which, I am convinced, will immeasurably aggravate existing evils. I also know full well that a large majority of those who support free coinage are honest and well-meaning citizens, wishing to do right. But because I know this my blood stirs with indignation
