Oseba said he was now to return to rather favourite pastures. He was now to review the situation of a country unanimously admitted, by all its millions of proud and patriotic people, to be the “greatest country,” not only on this earth, but in the Universe—and this, of course, meant America.

Leo Bergin, having been born in America, seemed to be “at home” to these graceful compliments.

Oseba said that before he reached America, that country had been somewhat “discovered” by a Mr. Morgan, who had much of it done up in a shawl strap, but that it was still considerably in business.

This American nation, he said, sprang from the loins of Britain, and its founders had inherited their fibre from that “classic land of liberty.” Being strongly imbued with the British spirit, and being impressed by their novel surroundings, they broke the thread of tradition, and, having established a government based upon the consent of the governed, they demonstrated the possibility of a civilised state without a king or a bishop.

Here the orator grew eloquent, “as if to the manner born,” and I quote:—

“America—North America—is the noblest country ever given by God to his children—a country saved through all the progressive ages of the world for a new experiment in human government, and here some British adventurers opened a branch office. That they might ‘worship God according to the dictates of their own conscience,’ they hurled themselves in their frail barques, turned their prows—the ships’ prows—to three thousand miles of boisterous waves, and landed on Plymouth’s rock-bound shores. Here, defying titanic difficulties, they scaled the mountains, levelled the forests, tamed the soil, and, from the jaws of many defeats, they snatched a glorious victory. Here, they erected new altars, blazed out a new destiny, and, rocked in the cradle of Liberty by the untrammelled winds of heaven, they built a temple at whose shrines the unborn generations could freely worship.”

Here, the notes record that a young man in the audience smiled, while poetess Vauline seemed good-naturedly surprised; noticing which, Amoora Oseba faltered, and said:—

“Well, my children, those remarks would be very tame in America, and a man who could not soar higher on a ‘fitting occasion’ would certainly not be returned at the head of the poll.”

But in material prosperity, the orator said that during the first century of America’s national life, she achieved not only unparalleled, but unapproached success, and during the last half of that period she accumulated more wealth than was ever possessed by any other nation. With nearly half of the railways of the globe, she furnished half the food and raiment products, and manufactured more goods than any [Pg 88]
[Pg 89]other four nations—aside from Britain—and by the brightest inventive genius the world ever knew, she had furnished more of the cunning devices that ease the care and toil of man, than all the world besides.

In moral progress, she has been equally successful, for she had about two-fifths of all the newspapers of the world; 72,000 post offices, 180,000 churches, 450,000 school teachers, and more libraries and more readers than any other country; while more than half of the institutions of higher learning on the globe were hers, and counting only the real Americans, more enterprising, ingenious, intelligent and educated people, than any other nation.

“Verily,” said Oseba, “America was Britain’s greatest contribution to the world’s progress. These two kindred countries flourished through reciprocal interests; by their industrial methods they have lifted the world from medieval barbarism, and they are destined to give their language, their civilisation and their notions of liberty to the whole human race.”

Here the poetess Vauline inquired why America, with all her great wealth and opportunities, would not be a desirable country to which to send a colony of the Shadowas?

Oseba answered, “I love that great and wonderful country so deeply, and I so much admire its splendid audacity, that I would gladly speak kindly, even of its faults; but, my children, it is not all ‘rosewater and glycerine’ in Yankeedom.

“In wealth, in enterprise, in education, in intelligence, and in opportunities for further progress, America may justly claim to be the foremost nation on the globe, and she has ‘rights’ no other would care to dispute. But,—

It is they, of whom we may profitably inquire. A nation may be rich, though the people may be poor; a nation may be strong, while the people are weak; a nation may be feared because the people can be relied upon to obey designing masters, but the true greatness of a nation must ever depend upon the quality of the individuals composing the nation.

“In America, my children, they sing many choruses. Listening across the sea, the groans of despair are heard, mingled with the inspiring chants of robed priests, and, the public heart being touched with pity, the bandmaster mounts his pedestal, looks serenely benevolent, and, raising his baton with gracefully curving signals, the populace join in one voice:—

“These dulcet tones were always supposed to help fill the immigrant ships, the vacancies caused by the strike, and the land-boomer’s pockets, but just as the last faint echoes die away, there arises from the narrow lane ‘hard by’—just off Broadway—the plaintive wail:—

“Of course, my children, these borrowed lamentations may come from the fellows who were left out in the cold at the last elections, for one ‘can’t most always sometimes tell,’ in America, whence come the inspiring motives of the entertainment.

“Let me tell you a little story, my children.

“One November afternoon, while on a west-bound train, I had as a travelling companion a very intelligent, patriotic, and sorrowful man. His manner was subdued, his voice was plaintive, and he spoke earnestly of the condition of his country.

“Skipping his most emphatic words, and toning down portions of his most lurid sentences, I will recite to you the substance of his fervid oration as we hurried over the plains to overtake the rapidly sinking sun.

“Speaking of the greatness of America, my friend said, ‘Some qualifying words may be necessary, or the ideas sought to be conveyed may be confusing. We Americans,’ said he, ‘boast of “equality before the law,” yet in no other civilised country has favoritism been carried to more deplorable extremes. We boast of freedom, yet in no country does a smaller number of men control the conditions under which all must live, and we boast of our constitutionally guarded rights, yet the accidental head of a party may exercise a power unthinkable by any constitutional monarch of Europe.’

“‘But with so intelligent a people, may not these abuses be remedied?’

“‘Intelligent?’ said he, with a sigh. ‘The people in America are frequently informed that they are very intelligent and free, but would a very intelligent people shovel coal so furiously into the furnace of a locomotive that was rapidly running their train to the devil?’

“‘In theory, the Americans have erected the most symmetrical political temple, at whose altars the devout head of patriotism ever bowed a humble allegiance; but in practice,’ said he with emotion, ‘well, the upper rooms are occupied by schemers and the halls are crowded by a more rapacious set of money-changers than the Master whipped from the temple of Jerusalem.’

“‘Dollars, dollars,’ said he bitterly, ‘there is nothing in America more potent than a million dollars.’ Then after a moment’s silence he muttered, ‘yes, five millions are more potent.’

“‘However, it would be mockingly absurd,’ he sorrowfully continued, ‘for any American to hoist a danger signal, for the pleasures of the occasion must not be marred; but,’ said he, with a gleam of satisfaction, ‘while Belshazzar is playing high jinks at the feast, Daniel is changing his slippers, making ready for a call. As a fact,’ said my companion, ‘America is being looted by her caretakers, and, while the Philistines are packing away the booty, the silly Samsons are sleeping in the lap of Delilah.’

“My friend was eloquent and impressive—his language was lurid and expressive, his manner was quite American, and I sympathised with him, for ’tis sad to behold the patriot, sitting with bowed head and solemn visage, contemplating the waning glory of his own proud country, and he seemed very earnest.

“Well,” said Oseba, “we pulled up at a pretty city where there was confusion, and my friend disenrailed. As he stepped off, he met some friends. They, too, looked unhappy, and, feeling inquisitive, I alighted, and observing a pleasant looking fellow on the platform I approached him, and waving toward my late companion’s party, I interrogatively said: ‘Funeral?’

“The man actually laughed, and observing my seriousness, and that I was not of his country, he laughed again, and glancing at my friend’s group, he said:—

“‘Funeral, stranger! We’ve had an election, and it was the d——st landslide ever seen in these parts, and he—ha! ha!—is out in the cold.’”

Oseba, the notes say, remarked that the bell rang, he “waved” to his companion, re-entered his train, dropped into his seat and—thought.

A DIGRESSION.

The notes indicate that Mr. Oseba was deeply affected by the revelations of his “travelling companion.” He need not despair.

This race has been rather prominently before the footlights for some time, and it is of such a mixed and sturdy stock that it seems endowed with the spirit, if not of “perpetual,” at least, of long-continued youth.

The Anglo-Saxon has not yet filled his mission, and surely America should not, so early in its unparalleled career, betray evidence of decadence. While “grow quick, decay quick,” seems to be a law of nations, as well as of Nature, while wealth is often an evidence of injustice, and while in numbers there are often germs of weakness, with America still in her vigorous youth, there must be virtue in her strength sufficient to meet these very apparent difficulties.

It must be remembered, too, that America, though she had great opportunities, had a stupendous task before her at her birth as a nation. In vindication of an inherited British instinct, the “British colonies” revolted against a king, too Dutch to appreciate a British sentiment, and a parliament, too weak to resist him, and the “British American” colonies became the “American nation.”

But the responsibilities of the new nation were as tremendous as her opportunities were fabulous. Politically, she was adrift without pilot or compass, and she set about to erect a temple on whose altars her people might worship, and, without law or precedent, she built, better than she knew, a theory of government the astonishment, the pride, and the admiration of a hopeful world.

Well might the heads of the people have been a little turned, but lured by the most tempting opportunities ever offered to man, they hurled an awakened energy against the doors of the treasure house of Nature, and soon marched among the leaders of industrial art—yes, away in the vanguard. In defence of her commerce, her little navy was the first to humble the Barbary pirates that for centuries had levied blackmail upon the whole Mediterranean trade. Her flag was soon seen in every port, and from the profits of trade in her products, Britain laid the foundation of a stupendous industrial system, that made her the commercial mistress of the world.

Her pursuits were industrial, her ways were ways of peace. Soon she carried one-third of the ocean tonnage, and the struggles of the whole human race were being eased by her inventions.

During these formative stages of development, real poverty was unknown, and great fortunes—such as are being heaped up to-day—had never been dreamed of.

But what a period, and what a country for the development of character! In those peaceful but industrious and frugal days arose that splendid school of writers, poets, essayists, philosophers, publicists and reformers of New England, and the orators, statesmen, and patriots of the young days of the Republic. With such achievements, Mr. Oseba, liberty cannot perish from the earth. The grotesque anomalies in America are incidents of the changing times and will soon disappear.

But to the notes:—

“Room for a colony? Quantity, my children, but no tempting quality for us.

“No,” said Oseba, “earnestly I love America and her splendid people, but the flag of social progress has been transferred to other lands, so America must hold the ’phone, while others of that splendid race—more strays from the Classic Isles—answer the calls of Justice and lead Humanity to a broader, higher and nobler liberty.

“Well, I will ring off America, for while every phase of the recital is so charming that one is inclined to loiter, we catch a glimpse of coming scenes that hurry our hopes for a pleasing goal.

“From great and grand America, I took a long ocean voyage, my children, and on the ‘other side’ I found the beginning of the end of my task, for here, all the dreams of all my weary wanderings, and all the hopes of all my fancied visions of better things, found realisation, and with a glad heart I turned my thoughts to the friends of Cavitorus.”

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