Strictly speaking, it is unnecessary for the people to "vote themselves rich." WE, THE PEOPLE, ARE ALREADY RICH. We are rich by the gift of nature and the will of God. Each scientific discovery and invention, wrung by toil, genius and martyrdom from the strange earth and firmament that greeted primeval man, has added to our riches. We are now rich, but are debarred by force from the possession of our own. We are heirs, not only to the riches of the earth as originally created, but to all those opportunities for utilizing these natural treasures, resulting from the accumulated knowledge and skill of the centuries. But we are kept from our inheritance. We have been deprived of our wealth by vote-enacted legislation, and it is vote-enacted legislation that will again give us possession. Our enemies say contemptuously that government can no more increase wages by legislation than it can increase the size of your foot or the length of your arm, for the increase or decrease in both cases is governed wholly by natural law. "Let the poor," they say, "stop agitating and hoping to become prosperous through legislation, and instead let every man go to work building his own home and fortune, and all will be well." "The Government cannot legislate a single dollar into existence." "The remedies for poverty are industry, frugality and temperance." These are the things they say. But suppose we watch their acts instead of listening to their words. Then we learn that, while for us they point in one direction to the road that leads to fortune they seek this road themselves by going the opposite way. We, who have followed their advice, have been impoverished; they, who imitated their acts, have been enriched. POTATOES AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. I ride to market with a load of potatoes, the result of sweat and labor for half a year. A ruffian knocks me off my wagon, takes my seat and drives away. Questions: Shall I ask a policeman to help me catch the despoiler, or shall I "cease agitating and go to work?" Shall I arm myself and, with the help of friends, take back my own, or shall I return to the farm and "practice industry, frugality and temperance?" Is it nobler, manlier, more courageous of me to get possession of my potatoes by fighting, or, forsaking them, to go to work and raise another crop for the next thief? Honest and contented labor under these circumstances is dishonorable.