"As the immigrant mother leads her sons and daughters into the undeveloped paths of wealth—as civilization elevates a race out of the sloughs of semi-barbarism—as national prosperity exalts a land—or as science raises the human intellect from darkness into dazzling light—thus Iowa, with rapid strides, ascends the precipitious sides of prosperity's mountain range, bearing her sons and daughters to loftier, and still loftier peaks, and revealing to their gaze still wider and richer vistas. And the summit of this range she will never reach; for her onward progress cannot be stayed, until her arterial streams are dry—until the agricultural life-blood in her veins has ceased to flow, until her great metallic heart has been emptied. Upon the topmost summit, then, Iowa will never stand, for through countless ages yet to come, her progress—that must be forever onward—must be upward also."[E]
The people of Iowa do not stand still. Not satisfied with present achievements, they go forward, doing well to-day the tasks that are theirs, and striving earnestly to make the future better and more glorious than the past.
We can not do better here than by quoting a toast to the future of Iowa given some years ago by O. J. Laylander, a loyal son of the state:
"In the few minutes allotted to this toast scant justice may be awarded so worthy a theme. We love you, O Iowa, lusty child, resting in the mighty arms of the Missouri and the Father of Waters, laughing beneath the warm kisses and the love tears of gentle May; crying aloud to all the world: 'See how I grow! How strong I am! How happy and healthy and beautiful!'
"Iowa is glorious now. The great, green carpets, fresh from the springtime cleaning, shimmer in the glorious sun. The broad, black belts of loam await with open pockets the hiding of the golden grain. Living, glowing mines of gold stud the prairies' endless velvet folds. The countless castles of the farm are bound into great bundles by the sounding wire. Above every door that opens upon honest toil is inscribed in letters of gold the motto, 'Rich, rich, rich.'
"Such is Iowa today in its wealth of land and stock. Each year the unfailing field fills the bins to bursting and grows the meat for millions.
"Material Iowa, with great leaps, has gone forward in the world's race. Manifest destiny was misread by even the wisest of our grandfathers. Even thirty years ago no prophet dared choose the gorgeous hues necessary to a true picture of the Iowa of to-day.
"Yet not alone in industrial lines has Iowa set the pace for the states. In politics she has crowded New England off the stage, and bold Ohio sits quietly at her feet. In literature and in arts she stands unashamed. Comfort and culture walk hand in hand, and happiness is a perennial contagion.
"Some fifty years ago there came to Iowa a sturdy boy. Today he calls his own one thousand billowy acres which have risen in value in steps of ten until one hundred thousand dollars would not tempt him to yield his title. One June afternoon he sat on his piazza in sweet reverie. He reviewed the wonderful development of the grand old state, and sent his imagination in search of greater possibilities. From the hedge the thrush poured forth a song of love. The humming bees thrust their honeyed tongues into the flowers on the trellis at his side. The south wind was heavy with fragrance brushed from the blooming bushes. All nature conspired to steal the old man's senses and soon reverie gave way to sleep and dreams, and this, they say, was the dream: He dreamed that it was the year nineteen hundred and forty-one, and he was celebrating his hundredth birthday. He had seen comfort and culture become as common as the summer sun. Literature and art had countless country devotees. People had ceased to hurry, and worry was unknown: and then he dreamed that he died, and sought admission at the golden gate. To his amazement he was halted and informed that he was at the wrong place. Greatly grieved, he parleyed with the guard: 'I never wittingly did a human soul a wrong. I was rich, but it was not my fault. Why must I, who have always tried to do my duty, go to hell?' 'No one said anything about hell,' was the reply. 'To the annex—the second gate to the right. You Iowa people complain so much about celestial conditions and make so many comparisons with Iowa that we have concluded to colonize you a few thousand years and send you all back to Iowa.'
"That the future of Iowa shall be such that if you shall not wish to come back, you shall at least wish to stay as long as possible, is my sincere desire."[F]