Monopoly cannot be content with controlling its own business. It is the creature of the same law which has always driven the tyrant to control everything--government, art, literature, even private conversation. Any freedom, though seemingly the most remote from any possible bearing upon the tyrant, may--will grow from a little leak of liberty into a mighty flood, sweeping his palaces and dungeons away. The czar knows that if he lets his people have so much freedom as free talk in their sitting-rooms their talk will gather into a tornado. In all ages wealth, like all power, has found that it must rule all or nothing. Its destiny is rule or ruin, and rule is but a slower ruin. Hence we find it in America creeping higher every year up into the seats of control. Its lobbyists force the nomination of judges who will construe the laws as Power desires, and of senators who will get passed such laws as it wants for its judges to construe. The press, too, must be controlled by Power. During the criminal trial at Buffalo one of the oil combination's detectives was put on the stand. He was compelled to produce his written instructions from the counsel of the trust.[508] These had been given him at the office of the oil trust in New York. He forwarded his reports to its office in New York, and received his pay from the same place.[509] He sent his subordinates to get employment in Matthews' works, and through them obtained information from the inside. The monopoly paid one of these detectives $2.50 a day for spying, while he could earn only $1.50 a day for working. "I see here further," said the District Attorney, "'Why the _Express_ published the last complaint'"--in Matthews' suit for $250,000 damages. "Did he ask you to find out about that?" "He did." "That is, he wanted you to find out what arrangements were made with the Buffalo _Express_ to have the complaint published?" "Yes; the whole complaint. It covered the whole of the newspaper." "And do you know 'how many copies were taken by Matthews?' Did he tell you to find that out, too?" "Yes, sir."[510] CHAPTER XXII ANOTHER TALE OF TWO CITIES The South is the most American part of America. Close observers note as its especial characteristic the preservation of the original Anglo-Saxon types, which gave this country its first and deepest impress. The South is not yet so steeped as the North in the commercialism to which it is all of life to buy and sell, and its population, less affected by trade and immigration, remains more nearly American, as the fathers were American, than the parts of the country flooded by the full force of the modern tide. Only in the South is there record all through this history of a man "too prejudiced to buy" from those who claimed the sole right to sell.