Chicago has now a population of a million and a half—­you will observe that this passion for figures remains with me.  To the south I can see the smoke of the steel mills; to the north the towers of granite, tile, and brick of the city, and all between populous quarters.  Twenty miles of city north and south; ten miles of city east and west.  I am on Douglas’ ninety acres, ten of which he deeded to the University of Chicago.  Its three-story college building stands to the west of me about one half a mile; abandoned now.  The acres themselves have passed to an insurance company on a mortgage.  And in the general decay of Douglas’ memory and influences this seems fitting enough.

Of course, the Civil War was waged to free the negro; and to do it it was necessary to have a protective tariff, which came into being soon after Lincoln was elected, and has been the policy of the country ever since.  Also for this emancipation it was necessary to revive the bank, and this was done during the war.  Not long after the war was over—­about two years—­the trust known as the Standard Oil Company was organized.  Its moving spirit endowed the Douglas university and moved it to the Midway Plaisance.  It has continued its uninterrupted graduating years from Douglas’ time till now.  It is still Douglas’ university—­at least as much so as this United States was Douglas’ these United States.  It is a university built out of tariff privileges and railroad rebates; while Douglas’ university was built from land, which Douglas was foresighted enough to buy in anticipation of Chicago’s growth, and the increment in values produced by the Illinois Central railroad.  Douglas was hotly denounced for crookedness and money grabbing in those days of 1858 by the Abolitionists and Free Soilers.  Indeed much is said now in criticism of Mr. Rockefeller; but I believe it will pass.  Besides he is not running for office, or trying to found an ocean to ocean republic; and hence criticism does not hurt him so much.

Below me and down behind a wall the tracks of the Illinois Central roar to the wheels of numerous trains, long trains of ten and twelve cars, sleepers, diners, parlor cars, bound straight for New Orleans and New York, either place reached in twenty-four hours from Chicago.  I wish Douglas could see this.  Still, would he like to know that the public have no access to the lake at any place where the tracks lie between the shore and this wall?  Perhaps he would see that this occupancy correctly exemplifies the fate that the free-soil doctrine has met with throughout the country.

There are sounds of trowels, voices of workmen behind me.  A group of masons and laborers is repairing Douglas’ tomb; for it is not scrupulously cared for these days.  Postprandial orators are frequently remarking amidst great acclaim that the hand on the dial of time points to Hamilton; and if government is as corrupt as the newspapers say it is, and if Hamilton stood for corruption in government, the hand