“Keep, ancient lands, your storied
pomp!” cries she.
With silent lips. “Give me
your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses, yearning to breathe
free;
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore—
Send these, the homeless, temptest-tost
to me—
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
Now, there can be no two ways of thinking among patriotic Americans as to this aspect of the Bartholdi colossus question. It must be agreed that the motive of the work is extremely grand, and that its significance would be glorious. The sculptor’s project was a generous inspiration, for which he must be cordially remembered. To be sure, it may be said he is getting well advertised; that is very true, but it would be mean in us to begrudge him what personal fame he may derive from the work. To assume that the whole affair is a “job,” or that it is entirely the outcome of one man’s scheming egotism and desire for notoriety, is to take a deplorably low view of it; to draw unwarranted conclusions and to wrong ourselves. The money to pay for the statue—about $250,000—was raised by popular subscription in France, under the auspices of the Franco-American Union, an association of gentlemen whose membership includes such names as Laboulaye, de Lafayette, de Rochambeau, de Noailles, de Toqueville, de Witt, Martin, de Remusat. The identification of these excellent men with the project should be a sufficient guarantee of its disinterested character. The efforts made in this country to raise the money—$250,000—required to build a suitable pedestal for the statue, are a subject of every day comment, and the failure to obtain the whole amount is a matter for no small degree of chagrin.