But as often as I think of the question, I come back to the Park, which, say what you will, is destined to be one of the most important possessions of this metropolis, and for the special enjoyment of the people. They will enjoy this Capitol, for it is beautiful to behold,—also the other public edifices, some of them excellent in style and grateful to the eye; but nothing of all these will be what we may expect that Park to be,—a place where the young and old will resort of an evening to enjoy innocent recreation and congenial society, while the open air or the opportunities of exercise impart to them that best blessing, health. Sir, that Park should not be sacrificed; and if you have any doubt, let me lay before you the testimony of another place. I have already cited Boston; I now call your attention to Philadelphia. You know the remarkable park which has been opened there. I stopped a day in Philadelphia last summer, on my way home, especially to see and enjoy this magnificent resort; and I was well rewarded. I beheld the most beautiful park, certainly in its promise, on this continent; and I doubt if there is one even in the European world of equal promise. But no one can enter its grounds without annoyance and trouble from the railroad-crossings, and the perpetual sound of the steam-engine with its shrill whistle, so little in harmony with pleasure-grounds.
It requires no scientific knowledge, no practical acquaintance with railroads, to see that those crossings are a positive nuisance, and that the hospitable park set apart for the population of a mighty city, and destined to be one of the most beautiful objects of the civilized world, actually suffers from the nuisance. I appeal to Senators who have visited it; I know that there is not one who will say that I am not right. There is not one who has ever entered those grounds, not even the Senator from Pennsylvania who pioneers this bill, that will not say he regrets those railroad-crossings and wishes them out of the way. But I shall not rely upon the authority of the Senator or my own testimony. I have in my hand the last annual report of the Commissioners, and I wish the Senate to hear what they say:—
“At an early period of their organization the Commissioners addressed themselves to the solution of the very difficult problem of how to attain the best approaches to the Park, and they have not at any time ceased to give that matter their earnest attention. If a former generation could have foreseen”—
Now see, Senators, how this applies to the present case,—
“If a former generation could have foreseen that the liberal views which far-sighted men among them held on the subject of a park which should embrace both banks of the Schuylkill would finally ripen into a fruition beyond what the most sanguine could then have dreamed, the great railways which now run in close proximity to that stream would have reached the city by other routes, or at least would have been carried on tracks more remote from the river. At that day this could readily have been done without conflicting with any interest; but now that the conditions have been long established, and trade and travel settled in conformity to them, any violent change must be regarded as out of the question.”[42]
The Commissioners then make certain recommendations, which I will not take up time to read. But I come to a brief passage:—
“The Commissioners, therefore, respectfully but strenuously urge that steps shall be immediately taken to promote this most desirable end. And they do this not alone in the interest of the thousands whose vehicles are entangled at the railroad-crossing, but much more in the interest of the hundreds of thousands whose principal enjoyment of the Park has been and will be in that portion of it which is most exposed to these dangerous annoyances.”[43]
That is testimony. If this were a court of justice instead of the Senate, and if you, Sir, were a court and the Senators now before me were a jury, that would be a testimony conclusive in the case,—testimony of experts, who know by experience what they testify, who have seen with their own eyes and felt in their own consciousness, whenever they entered that park, the nuisance against which I now protest. Sir, they testify against the present bill. Can you answer the testimony? Is it not clear? Is it not complete?
Sir, I need no testimony. I only ask Senators to look at the Park. Let them pass through our Library and take their stand on that unequalled portico from which they may look down upon an amphitheatre more like that of ancient Rome than that of any other capital, with a river beneath and hills in the distance,—a river much larger than the ancient Tiber, and hills much more beautiful than those that stand about Rome,—and a Capitol, too, but how much more beautiful than that which once gave the law to mankind! Stand on that portico, Sir, and survey the amphitheatre; your eye will then rest with satisfaction on the outline of this very Park, stretching from the Capitol beyond the Executive Mansion, and destined to be a breathing-place for the immense population of future generations. Stand on that portico and try to imagine what this Park may be.