least
as much so as this United States was Douglas' these United States. It is
a university built out of tariff privileges and railroad rebates; while
Douglas' university was built from land, which Douglas was foresighted
enough to buy in anticipation of Chicago's growth, and the increment in
values produced by the Illinois Central railroad. Douglas was hotly
denounced for crookedness and money grabbing in those days of 1858 by
the Abolitionists and Free Soilers. Indeed much is said now in criticism
of Mr. Rockefeller; but I believe it will pass. Besides he is not
running for office, or trying to found an ocean to ocean republic; and
hence criticism does not hurt him so much.

Below me and down behind a wall the tracks of the Illinois Central roar
to the wheels of numerous trains, long trains of ten and twelve cars,
sleepers, diners, parlor cars, bound straight for New Orleans and New
York, either place reached in twenty-four hours from Chicago. I wish
Douglas could see this. Still, would he like to know that the public
have no access to the lake at any place where the tracks lie between the
shore and this wall? Perhaps he would see that this occupancy correctly
exemplifies the fate that the free-soil doctrine has met with throughout
the country.

There are sounds of trowels, voices of workmen behind me. A group of
masons and laborers is repairing Douglas' tomb; for it is not
scrupulously cared for these days. Postprandial orators are frequently
remarking amidst great acclaim that the hand on the dial of time points
to Hamilton; and if government is as corrupt as the newspapers say it
is, and if Hamilton stood for corruption in government, the hand on the
dial undoubtedly points to him. At this moment a young man and woman
come to a settee near me. The young woman asks her companion: "Who is
that monument to?" "Douglas," he answers in staccato. "Who was Douglas?"
"A Senator or something from Illinois. But why change the subject? You
have kept putting this off, and I have six hundred dollars saved now,
and prospects are good. I would like to be ..." the rest is borne away
by the wind. But I know it is the old theme. Soon his arm encircles her
shoulders over the back of the settee. She looks at him and smiles. It
is April! The men are repairing the mortar between the stones of
Douglas' tomb. Two are masons, two are negro helpers. The negroes are as
free as the whites; the whites are no freer than the negroes. They are