Before Mr. Whitman was excused from cross-examination, however, a serious questioning of his interpretation of the Golden Rule was introduced into the testimony. It came from a maker of carded woollens as distinguished from worsteds, Mr. Edward Moir, of Marcellus, New York. The carded woollen manufacturers, like many other innocent Americans, took the results of the presidential election of 1908 as evidence that the tariff was to be thoroughly revised. “At last,” said they, “we shall get relief.” Accordingly, soon after the election, Mr. Moir, learning that there was to be a meeting of the National Association of Wool Manufacturers, and supposing that the revision of the wool schedule was to be discussed, presented himself at the gathering. To his surprise he found that some weeks before the election, about the time, indeed, that Mr. Taft’s promises of downward revision were most definite and vigorous, representatives of this association had met representatives of the wool-growers of the far West, and the two had made what they called a “solemn compact” to _resist all changes in the wool schedule_! The inequalities were to stand. The carded woollen mills were to be fed carpet wool and cotton if they could get them, the man on small income was to continue to wear cotton worsteds and sleep under cotton blankets, the well-to-do were to continue to pay $1.50 for cloth they could buy in England for seventy-five cents. When Mr. Moir protested, he found he stood alone; _i.e._ he found that the _National Association of Wool Manufacturers apparently represented the worsted industry_. A little later, when the Ways and Means Committee began its hearings, Mr. Moir found that this same association was giving information on what the wool schedule needed, and that it did not include help for him. Outraged, he went to work to organize the carded woollen men. Over one hundred were soon in line, and this body carried its grievance to the Ways and Means Committee. The reports of the tariff hearings contain some very interesting explanations from Mr. Whitman of the points of which the carded woollen men complained. Take the matter discussed in the last chapter, of collecting 11 cents on every pound of grease wool imported into the country, regardless of quality or value, or whether it shrinks 15 or 80 per cent. How did Mr. Whitman defend this duty, which is, as one can see, the very foundation of his advantage over his competitors? He defended it almost hysterically by the claim that it is only a specific duty, which will prevent undervaluation at the customs. Mr. Whitman buys his wool according to its value. He does not insist upon paying a fixed price through fear of misrepresentation. Wool is a standard like wheat and corn. Centuries of experience have made men expert in judging its value. Undoubtedly there would be efforts at undervaluation if the duty were according to value. But a specific duty does not prevent fraud—witness the Sugar Trust.