In a few minutes the lightnings were flashing full accounts of this, the most important meeting ever held, throughout the length and breadth of the nation; the responses were the most enthusiastic and thrilling ever known in the history of mankind. Money in vast sums was wired by the rich to every Governor, for the purpose of transforming the poverty-stricken of the slums into self-supporting self-respecting farmers; railroad presidents tendered free transportation; one touch of nature made the whole world kin.
In an uncompleted tunnel under the harbor of Boston was gathered a vast crowd of wild-eyed Anarchists, and desperate hungry wretches from the vilest dens, who had just sworn with unspeakable oaths to burn and plunder the city that very night, to murder all the rich, to commit outrages no fiend had ever dared to dream before. When they were about to rush out and let loose the dogs of carnage and unspeakable horrors, suddenly in the glare of their torches appeared the priest who an hour before, had played such an important part in the State House cupola conference. A hush fell upon the rabble as they recognized their spiritual adviser; with a voice of almost super-human power, he shouted,
"Brothers, there is no excuse for murder, no cause for lawlessness, money is flowing in like water to furnish homes for us all away from these stifling factories out in God's pure air of the prairies and fields of the great West and the sunny South. For the sake of your wives and children do no violence; assemble all to-morrow morning in the amphitheatre, where you will find food in abundance, until we are located upon our own portion of God's green earth."
The effect of these sympathetic words was wonderful; malice and frenzy were driven from the minds of these children of the slums, even as the devils were exorcised from the Magdalen of old, and inspired with new hopes and holier aspirations they vanished into the shades of evening.
All night long the Salvation Army, the Volunteers of America, hundreds of every nationality and creed, labored strenuously in making preparations to feed the hungry, clothe the shivering, and care for the sick. When the morning dawned fair and balmy beyond all precedent for this season of the year, the scene in the vast amphitheatre baffled description, over which the heavenly host rejoiced as never before. The united bands of the city discoursed sweet music from the balcony, from steaming cauldrons the multitudes were fed to repletion with nourishing delicious food; the sick, the weak, the women and children were abundantly supplied in their homes, all seemed like one great family, the rich and the poor clasped hands like brothers, and the spirit of peace on earth good will toward men reigned supreme. When all had been refreshed, while the bands played "Hail to the Chief," the Governor, with a great number of the most prominent in church, state, and philanthropy, filed in upon the rostrum, welcomed by enthusiastic cheers. As the applause died away His Excellency said,
"In the city hives are clustered far too many human bees, we must swarm out into the country where there is honey enough and to spare,
"'Go back to your mother, ye children, for shame,Who have wandered like truants, for riches and fame!With a smile on her face, and a sprig in her cap,She calls you to feast from her bountiful lap.
Come out from your alleys, your courts, and your lanes,And breathe, like your eagles, the air of our plains;Take a whiff from our fields, and your excellent wivesWill declare it all nonsense insuring your lives.'
"You, who are strong, and who delight in buffetting the cold and snows, should go to the deserted New England farms or to the broad prairies of the West, the graneries of the world; but you who shrivel in the wintry blasts, and who are subject to rheumatism and coughs, should go to the sunny southlands where you can work and rejoice in a climate of perpetual summer.
"We have funds in abundance to secure lands for all, build houses, furnish essentials for tilling the soil, and provisions, until crops can be raised; this money you can repay in easy installments to be used to equip future applicants. All wishing to secure these homes without money and without price can apply at the State House to-morrow."
A glad shout which reached the stars and gladdened the angelic hosts was the immediate response to these tidings, and poverty was banished forever from the Great Republic.
The scene changes—from stygian darkness, desolation and gloom of dingy, malodorous factories and streets, where ragged, hopeless beggars-for-work delve and curse, to the glorious sunlight and balmy air of the "Land of Flowers." Here we see pretty vine-clad cottages embowered in orange groves, and surrounded by luxuriant harvests of everything to make life worth the living. Here we see the murderous villains of the Boston Christmas-day mobs, no longer blood-thirsty, but smiling and happy as they listen to the songs of birds, the bleating of their own flocks, the laughter of their delighted children, while the prosperous fathers "tickle the bosom of their own mother earth with the hoe to make it laugh with abundant crops for man and beast." The grateful citizens have named their towns in honor of their generous benefactors, thus establishing for Carneiges, Morgans and Rockefellers monuments to their memories which will endure forever.
Thus was removed for all time the antagonism between labor and capital; thus were envy and class hatreds banished from society, and thus was our glorious Republic secured upon firm foundations, which will endure "until the final day breaks and all earthly shadows flee away."
Thus at last the prophetic vision of the poet seemed to be realized in "the land of the free and the home of the brave."
"One dream through all the agesHas led the world along:The wise words of the sages,The poet in his song,The prophet in his vision,—All these have caught the gleam,Have caught the light elysian,Have told the haunting dream.
This dream is that the storyThe ages have unrolledShall blossom in the gloryOf one long age of gold;That every man and womanShall find life glad and free,That in whate'er is humanIs hid Divinity.
The rod of old oppressionOne day shall broken be;Those held in night's possessionThe light of hope shall see;For tears there shall be laughing,And peace shall be for strife,And thirsty lips be quaffingThe wine of glorious life.
The rage and noise of battleShall sink, and fall to peace,The lowing of the cattle,The fruit and corn increase;No more the wide sky underThe rattle of the drum,No more the cannon's thunder,—God's kingdom shall have come.
Some day, dearest, where skies are bright,We'll dwell in the beauty of love and light;And sorrow will seemLike a far-off dream,And life shall be morning, that knows no night!
Some day, dearest—that perfect dayFor which we knelt in the dark to prayWe'll reap the restThat God deems best—In the beautiful vales of the far-away!"
End of Project Gutenberg's The Gentleman from Everywhere, by James Henry Foss