works."
"Father is too kind, Mr. President. He is the genius in the family."
"Who would be that less of a genius," Mill protested, "had it not been for the tireless support of you and your dear mother."
"I must thank you both," Benjamin said, "for your aid and advice when this country was in dire need. If your plans are followed we will have a new country—and particularly a new South that will be born out of the wreckage of the old."
"Not my plans, Mr. Benjamin. I have just pointed out and explained some economic truths. Science evolves as man evolves. We must build on the past. Ricardo was a great man and his economic theories led philosophers, including myself, onto the path to greater knowledge."
"My father is being too modest," Helen said. "The followers of Ricardo had rigidified his objective findings into a straitjacket for society. When he wrote his famous book, The Principles of Political Economy and Taxation, he formulated certain rules that his followers have treated with almost holy respect. They believed without questioning his laws which he said regulate the distribution, between the different classes of landowners, capitalists and labor, of the produce of industry. My father was one of the very few who did not take Ricardo's laws as holy writ. What my father said was transparently obvious—once it had been said. He said that it doesn't matter if what they called the natural action of society was to depress wages, equalize profits or even raise rents. It was only natural if people believed that it was natural."
Mill smiled and nodded agreement. "I'm afraid that, as always, my daughter has cut to the core of the problem. Though I am a bit more humble as I stand in the shadow of a great man. Without Ricardo to build upon I could never have seen the correct path that we must follow. If society does not like the "natural" results of its activities it has only to change. Society can really do anything that it desires. Society can tax and subsidize, it could give all of its wealth to the President to spend as he willed. Or it can run a gigantic charity ward. But whatever it does there is no correct distribution, or at least none that economics has any claim to fathom. And that process is what is happening in the South. An almost completely agrarian society is being turned into a modern industrial society. Railroads need factories which need coal and iron—and all of them need workers. These workers receive wages which they in turn pay for products, so the economy thrives. There is nothing natural or inevitable about how a society develops. Changing moral values can drive a society to new heights of success."
Judah P. Benjamin smiled wryly and shook his head. "And there, as the bard said, is the rub. Too many in the South do not want to change their moral values and they yearn for the old and simplistic values, with the few governing the many and the Negro at the very bottom, enslaved and helpless."
Mill nodded, then sighed. "You are indeed correct, sir. But as physical values are changed, you will find that moral values change with them. A man freed from slavery will fight to keep that freedom. A man receiving a decent wage will not go back to penury without a battle. You are going through the period of transition now and I do not envy you your labors—or those of the Freedmen's Bureau. Your reformation will be a painful one for some. But as the majority who enjoys its benefits grows larger you will find that the minority will be forced to join the others."
"I pray that you are right, sir. Pray to God that this country will survive the strife and change and emerge triumphant, strong and united."
"A prayer we all share," Lincoln said, the strength of conviction in his voice.
Shortly thereafter Mill made his apologies and he and his daughter left. Benjamin stood then as well and gathered up his papers. "I have taken up too much of your time," he said.
"Quite the opposite," Lincoln said. "We are in this