wonderful powers of their ancestors. Fortunate it isindeed, that here, in these mountains, we have preserved all theinstrumentalities with which to restore, when the world is ready toreceive it, the civilization of the former ages.

  Our constitution has worked admirably. Not far from here has arisenthe beautiful village of Lincoln. It is a joy to, visit it, as I dovery often.

  The wide streets are planted with trees; not shade trees, but fruittrees, the abundance of which is free to all. Around each modesthouse there is a garden, blooming with flowers and growing food forthe household. There are no lordly palaces to cast a chill shadowover humble industry; and no resplendent vehicles to arouse envy andjealousy in the hearts of the beholders. Instead of these shallowvanities a sentiment of brotherly love dwells in all hearts. The poorman is not worked to death, driven to an early grave by hopeless andincessant toil. No; he sings while he works, and his heart is merry.No dread shadow of hunger hangs over him. We are breeding men, notmillionaires.

  And the good wife sings also while she prepares the evening meal, forshe remembers that this is the night of the play; and yonder, on thatchair, lies the unfinished dress which her handsome daughter is towear, next Saturday night, to the weekly ball. And her sons aregreatly interested in the lectures on chemistry and history.

  Let us look in upon them at supper. The merry, rosy faces of youngand old; the cheerful converse; the plain and abundant food. Here arevegetables from their own garden, and fruit from the trees that linethe wide streets.

  Listen to their talk! The father is telling how the municipalitybought, some three years ago, a large number of female calves, at asmall cost; and now they are milch cows; and the town authorities areabout to give one of them to every poor family that is without one.

  And they praise this work; they love mankind, and the good, kindlygovernment--their own government--which so cares for humanity andstrives to lift it up. And then the father explains that each personwho now receives a free gift of a milch cow is to bring to themunicipal government the first female calf raised by that cow, andthe city will care for that, too, for two or three years, and thenbestow it upon some other poor family; and so, in endless rotation,the organized benevolence does its work, perennial as seed-time andharvest; and none are the poorer for it, and all are the happier.

  But come; they have finished their supper, amid much merriment, andare preparing to go to the play. Let us follow them. How the streetsswarm! Not with the dark and terrible throngs that dwell so vividlyin my memory; but a joyous crowd--laughing, talking, loving oneanother--each with a merry smile and a kindly word for his neighbor.And here we are at the door of the play-house.

  There is no fumbling to find the coins that can perhaps be but poorlyspared; but free as the streets the great doors open. What hurry,what confusion, what chatter, what a rustle of dresses, as they seektheir seats.

  But hush! The curtain rises. The actors are their owntownspeople--young men and women who have shown an aptitude for theart; they have been trained at the cost of the town, and are paid asmall stipend for their services once a week. How the lights shine!How sweet is the music! What a beautiful scene! And what lovelyfigures are these, clad in the picturesque garb of some far-awaycountry or some past age. And listen! They are telling the old, oldstory; old as the wooing of Eve in Eden; the story of human love,always so dear, so precious to the human heart.

  But see! the scene has changed--here is a merry-making; a crowd offlower-wreathed lads and lasses enter, and the harmonious dance,instinct with life and motion,--the poetry of human limbs,--unrollsitself before our eyes.

  And so the pretty drama goes forward. An idyl of the golden age; ofthat glorious epoch when virtue was always triumphant, and vice wasalways exposed and crushed.

  But the play is over; and the audience stream back, laughing andchatting, under the stars, down the long, fruit-embowered streets, totheir flower-bedecked, humble homes.

  And how little it costs to make mankind happy!

  And what do we miss in all this joyous scene? Why, where are thewolves, that used to prowl through the towns and cities of the worldthat has passed away? The slinking, sullen, bloody-mouthedmiscreants, who, under one crafty device or another, would springupon, and tear, and destroy the poor, shrieking, innocentpeople--where are they?

  Ah! this is the difference: The government which formerly fed andhoused these monsters, under cunning kennels of perverted law, andbroke open holes in the palisades of society, that they might crawlthrough and devastate the community, now shuts up every crevicethrough which they could enter; stops every hole of opportunity;crushes down every uprising instinct of cruelty and selfishness. Andthe wolves have disappeared; and our little world is a garden ofpeace and beauty, musical with laughter.

  And so mankind moves with linked hands through happy lives to deaths;and God smiles down upon them from his throne beyond the stars.

  End of Caesar's Column by Ignatius Donnelly

 
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