Gentlemen, it is getting late, and there are those to follow who will entertain you better than I can. But I propose to close with a little story which I heard; and it was in church that I heard it, in an excellent sermon. Just after the war of 1812, our laboring men stood, as they stand to-day, idling about the wharves and public places. That was the case in a little town to the east of Boston. They had enterprising men, as we have now; and one day a gentleman stepped into a bank, and said to the president, "Mr. President, I am going to build a ship."—"What do you know about shipbuilding?" asked the president. "Nothing. But I can do the business; and there are men here who can do the work. We have the money, and there are the men. I will build the ship, and sell it; you will get your money back; and the profit will be divided among the men." The idea was a novel one; but the president wanted to set the wheels of business in motion; and so he said that he would give an answer the next day. The gentleman called promptly the next morning; and the president informed him that the directors had agreed to advance the money. The gentleman then went out among the idle men, and said, "I am going to build a ship, and I want you to do the work. I will pay you enough to live on; and, when the ship is built, we will divide the profit." So they went to work as co-partners, and built the ship, this gentleman generously attending to the business. The ship was built and launched and sold, the money was paid to the bank, and the profits divided. That was the first ship built on the Merrimack in Newburyport, which has since become one of the largest shipbuilding places in Massachusetts.
So we want something to set the wheels in motion. The city of Boston can borrow the money, and buy the land, for these parks, more cheaply now than ever again; and the men are ready to do the work. I know of nothing more that I can say. I am glad to see this hall filled to-night. There are men here to-night who have at heart the interests and prosperity of the city of Boston. That is what we are acting for; and I trust that that hundred men will go up to City Hall, and, if the city government will move in the matter, every true man will deem it his duty to stand behind and encourage them.
The President. My friends, the best things and the most enthusiastic meetings must come to an end; but those who wait till the last generally get the best. I have now the pleasure of introducing to you the closing speaker, the Hon. P. A. Collins.
SPEECH OF THE HON. P. A. COLLINS.
I know that no word of mine can add to the force of this movement. I am neither great tax-payer nor eminent sanitarist. I cannot hope to equal others who have discussed the moral, æsthetic, sanitary, and economic phases of the question before us. But, happily, there is no need of such discussion now. The question of public parks has been submitted, in all its forms and probable effects, to the ablest, keenest, wisest, of our citizens; and there is but one answer. The answer is, that we need more out-door life than our sedentary race enjoys, and that public grounds, accessible to all, are not only desirable, but necessary to the moral and physical health of our crowded population.
This is the verdict; and, granted this, there remain but two questions,—"Is this the time?" "Can we afford it?" To some, the present is never the time for any thing. Their motto seems to be, "Don't do to-day what you can put off till to-morrow, because you may not live till to-morrow, and then you won't have to do it at all." This principle has been acted upon by short-sighted Boston too long; and the result is a melancholy looking-back to the time when improvements could have been made for a tenth or a fifteenth of the present cost. We are told of our beautiful suburbs, as if they can be suburbs forever. Even now, they are but for the rich. Beware of trespassing in the fields and woods: they are private property. The roads seem to belong to blood-horses and their owners. If you wish to know the future, look at the past. Look back, you aged men, to the fields and gardens of Tremont and Boylston Streets. Look back, you younger men, to rambles through South Boston farms, and land at "South End" sold by the acre. Always comes the old conservative admonition, "Wait!"—yes, wait till the great sea-wall makes City Point of Castle Island,—wait till the now extended arms of Boston clasp Brookline to the bosom of the metropolis,—wait till private avarice and easy legislation, acting intermittently, deface the shore and basin of Charles River,—wait till the dense and ever growing population, bursting from its narrow bounds, spreads itself in streets laid out at random, over what you are pleased to call our suburbs,—wait, in short, till the inevitable happens, and where are your public parks? You may have them, even then, I grant you; but you will have them where the people cannot reach them, and where the cost will be too great. Remember that our city growth is like the growth of all cities in the New World and the Old; and, if we want green places in the future Boston, we must seize them now.
Can we afford the expense? Rather, let us ask, Can Boston afford to be less comfortable to live in, less attractive, less healthy, than sister cities? We can afford police, paved streets, light, sewers, scavengers, a fire department, a board of health, and a score of other agencies, not because they give salaries and employment to certain men, but because the public health and safety require it; we can afford schools, maintained at enormous cost, though it may be conceded that we could live without education; we can afford pure water in abundance, be the expense never so great, because we need it; and, if we need pure air, we can afford to pay for it, to seize the means of having it, and keeping it forever.
And suffer me, with due modesty, to say, that we in this meeting—representing as we do the commerce, industries, and professions of this goodly town—have a right to demand that what we ask shall be given us, and that Boston shall take and hold for the use of its people this needed reservation, while yet there is time. I trust our city fathers will need no further admonition than this meeting gives; but, if they should, we are enlisted for the war.
As Cromwell, grimly looking down on the fair fields and shining streams of the land he came to conquer, said, "This is a land worth fighting for," so let us, as we survey the magnificent area of shore and hill and glade which fortune now permits us to dedicate to public use, exclaim, "This, indeed, is worth our effort;" and let us strive for it till the battle is won.