Mayor Stokley stepped forward. Tear-drops glistened in his translucent orbs. He raised his arm; his hand, so used to threaten and command, implored silence.SILENCE. In a single moment the firing ceased, the bells pealed no more; the last echoes of the hymns were carried heavenward upon the gentle breeze; the people ceased shouting, and a holy, solemn silence reigned supreme.
CHAPTER VI.
“THE FIRE.” ... Who flared and how they did it.
Amid this profound silence the Chaplain proceeded to inform the Lord for what purpose that great concourse of people was assembled.
He intimated that as “the earth was the Lord’s and the fulness thereof, and as the United States of America formed a part of the earth, and its citizens frequently gave evidence of the fulness thereof, it was eminently proper that He should not be kept in ignorance of its doings.”
He quoted freely from Scripture to convince his hearers that man was not all-powerful, but that, sooner or later, he must needs leave country, home, greenbacks, office, and corner lots behind him.
Alluding to the nations of olden time, he aired his classical learning. He informed his hearers that Greece and Rome were not now exactly what they had been, and mentioned likewise that Romulus and Mr. Julius Cæsar had both been dead for some time.
He also remarked upon several interesting historical facts of more modern date, which he seemed to think might possibly have slipped the memory of the angels,—namely: that a number of European countries were governed by potentates; that some of these had not been all that virtuous, peace-loving men could have wished them; that an assembly of individuals had pronounced freedom to be the prerogative of all mankind;—then, after commending Mr. Grant and his cabinet, Mr. Stokley and his city council, Mr. Goshorn and his associates, to the good graces of the heavenly host, he complimented that body on having the truest republic yet organized, and retired gracefully from the pulpit.
The orchestra of ten thousand selected musicians then executed Haydn’s magnificent “Oratorio of the Creation,” after which Mr. Ulysses S. Grant, who as President of the United States was chairman of the meeting, arose and made one of his powerful and eloquent addresses:—“Ladies and Gentlemen,” said he, “I hope I see you well. I am glad to see so many of you around me on this occasion. It is a very pleasant occasion. Like the century plant, it blooms but once in a hundred years. A good many of you, who I see around me on this occasion, will not be around when it comes around again. I thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for the manner in which you have received me, and I will make room for a longer winded man than me. I hope you will listen to him with attention. I thank you again, and hope you will all enjoy the exhibition. Allow me to introduce to you the orator of the day, selected by the Centennial Executive Committee.”
The building shook with the applause of the assembled multitude, and when the clamor had subsided, the orator began his address in a stirring appeal to