MANUFACTURER: Without this system of industry the subjugation of North America to civilization would have been impossible; we could never have shown the world the magnificent spectacle of-- CONSCIENCE: There is a little boy standing ten hours a day up to his ankles in the water in a coal-mine. COAL MONOPOLIST: I have a statistician who can prove--he can prove anything--that the workingman is a great deal better off than he ever was, that he makes more than I do, that small incomes are increasing and large ones decreasing, that there is no involuntary poverty, and that the workingmen could live on twenty-five cents each a day and buy up the United States with their savings, and-- CONSCIENCE: How long shall it be cheaper to run over workingmen and women at the railroad crossings in the cities than to put up gates? CLERGYMAN: The poor we are to have with us always. CONSCIENCE: That sewing-woman you see pawning her shawl has lived this winter with her two children in a room without fire. Are you wearing one of the shirts she finished? STATESMAN: The workingman has the ballot and the newspapers. He is a free citizen. CONSCIENCE: As the nights grow colder see how the number of girls on the street increases. It is this new conscience, the conscience of Jesus Christ, that appraises a hungry child to be of more value than ten thousand palaces, that must animate and dominate the church that is called by His name, in its war against the gold god of modern society. You may find this conscience throbbing in Ella Wheeler Wilcox's plea for "Justice, not Charity." "All hail the dawn of a new day breaking, When a strong armed nation shall take away The weary burden from backs that are aching With maximum work and minimum pay. When no man is honored who hoards his millions, When no man feasts on another's toil, And God's poor, suffering, starving billions Shall share His riches of sun and soil. There is gold for all in the world's broad bosom. There is food for all in the world's great store; Enough is provided if rightly divided, Let each man take what he needs--no more. Shame on the miser with unused riches, Who robs the toiler to swell his hoard, Who beats down the wage of the digger of ditches, And steals the bread from the poor man's board! Shame on the owner of mines whose cruel And selfish measures have brought him wealth! While the ragged wretches who dig his fuel Are robbed of comfort, and hope, and health. Shame on the ruler who rides in his carriage, Bought by the labor of half-paid men-- Men who are shut out of home and marriage, And are herded like sheep in a hovel pen."