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Perfecting the Earth

A PIECE OF POSSIBLE HISTORY

BY

C. W. Wooldridge, B.S., M.D.

Author of "The Missing Sense," "The Kingdom of Heaven is at Hand,
and other Philosophical and Sociological Essays

THE UTOPIA PUBLISHING COMPANY
CLEVELAND, OHIO

Copyright, 1902,

by
CHARLES W. WOOLDRIDGE.

//X

Perfecting the Earth

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

Conditions prevailing in 1913. General Goodwill's proposition
to the administration. Preparatory measures.

CHAPTER II.

The field of operations described. Coal and iron miners en-
listed as citizen tenantry. Capitalists object in vain.

CHAPTER III.

The iron works equipped. Industrial district located. Skele-
ton plan of city. Progress on main irrigating canal. The
aqueduct. Fitting land for irrigation and tillage. Basis
of water power. Other works and industries established —
year 1914.

CHAPTER IV.

City named Fort Goodwill. Preparations for building. Sewers
and subways. Plan of the city. Advertisement for archi-
tects and plans. The model block — diagram. The water
works, gas works, and primary edifices. The board of
forestry organized. The Fort Goodwill and San Bernar-
dino railway.

CHAPTER V.

Water, steam, and electric power. The power stations. The
irrigating and power works on the wheat lands. Plowing
and sowing for the first wheat crop.

M508351

4 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER VI.

The California division. Description of the country ; its aridity.
The self-filtering reservoirs of the San Jacinto mountains.
A plateau marked as a city site. The quarries of the San
Jacinto. The railway contingent meets the Fort Goodwill
division. Mysterious grading and foundations in the val-
ley of the Santa Margarita river.

CHAPTER VII.

The second period — 1915. Operations at Fort Goodwill dur-
ing the winter. Bridge over the canyon. The White
River canal and dam. The main canal extended in the
valley of the west fork of the Uintah, to serve the wheat
lands of 1915. The great dam of the Green River canyon.
The tunneled canal through the Green River highlands.

CHAPTER VIII.

Progress in Fort Goodwill. Surplus coal a basis of exchange.
Commissary department and time credit system of pay-
ments. The business men object. General Goodwill's
reply to the business men's committee.

CHAPTER IX.

Progress in Fort Goodwill continued. Building dwelling
houses. The paper mache lumber. Paving the streets.
Proclamation issued calling for citizen tenantry to people
the city. The Fort Goodwill dairy.

CHAPTER X.

The live stock department. The exercising ranges for the
cows. The poultry yards. The fertilizer works. The first
harvest. The temporary camp ground irrigated and fitted
as an orchard. The city peopled.

Table of Contents. 5

CHAPTER XL

Activities of the year 1916. Building the great dam. The
White River dam completed. Subsoil system of irrigation
applied to the first wheat fields. Two hundred square
miles of new land put under power in the White River
district. Pushing the tunneled canal. Conditions required
in a town site. City of Mount Ceres laid out. Progress in
the San Bernardino district. Auxiliary explorations and
enterprises. Structural steel arriving. The city of New
Utopia. The San Jacinto mountains and the catacombs.

CHAPTER XII.

The mysterious foundations. The copper plating works at
San Bernardino. Death valley, Vitre, and the great glass
works. The business men's views versus the condition of
the people. Result of the election of 1916.

CHAPTER XIII.
Third period— 1917-1921. The Fort Goodwill schools.

CHAPTER XIV.

Life in Fort Goodwill. The lawns and the pavements. The
horseless age. The lightness of traffic. The kitchens, din-
ing rooms, and table service. Restaurants connected with
the workshops. A workingmen's dinner. Bicycles in
Fort Goodwill. House services and furnishings. The
open hearth fire. The individual house and the block of
apartments. The business section of the town absent.
Millionaires in Fort Goodwill.

CHAPTER XV.
Operations of the Board of Forestry.

CHAPTER XVI.
Lake Diaz.

6 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER XVII.

Progress at San Bernardino, and at Vitre — 1917-1918. A new
power introduced.

CHAPTER XVIII.
Building the great flue.

CHAPTER XIX.
The Mount Ceres district.

CHAPTER XX.

Diminution of numbers in the army. Required hours of ser-
vice reduced to six. Uplift in the plane of life attending
this change. Effect of the example of the new cities on
the nation at large.

CHAPTER XXI.

The great rain flue and New Utopia. The effect of the great
flue a surprise. The error of the savants, and a discussion
of thermometry ; a discovery in meteorology. The growth
of New Utopia ; its beauty. Effect of the great flue. The
girdling canal of the San Bernardino range. The arid
region obliterated.

CHAPTER XXII.

The cellar of New Utopia. The city's industries and environ-
ments.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Life and death in New Utopia. The hours of daily service
again reduced. Schedule of one day's lectures and recrea-
tions from copy of daily bulletin and visitor's guide. The
dining rooms and table service. The organ chimes.
Funeral customs ; origin of change.

Table of Contents. 7

CHAPTER XXIV.

Department of Civil Industries and Public Works organized
in the United States Government. The great celebration
of the Fourth of July. General Goodwill's valedictory
address. The army disbanded.

CHAPTER XXV.

A New Utopian Sunday lecture — Religion versus Philosophy.
Part 1st : A critique on Kidd's Social Evolution.

CHAPTER XXVI.

A New Utopian Sunday lecture continued. Part 2nd: A
scientific place for another order of being — a piece de
resistance for philosophical critics, being a study of the
qualities of the luminiferous ether and of the ultimate
constitution of matter, based on the researches of Pro-
fessors Helmholtz, Sir William Thomson, W. K. Clifford,
J. Clerk Maxwell, and others.

CHAPTER XXVII.
Present conditions — 1947 A. D. New Utopia revisited.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A New Utopian schoolhouse; its origin from the people's
forum. Site, plan, and general description of the building.
The hall of industry. The hall of the sun, the great orrery
and the celestial sphere.

CHAPTER XXIX.

A New Utopian schoolhouse continued. The gallery of
evolution.

8 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER XXX.

A New Utopian schoolhouse concluded. The gallery of his-
tory. The observatory on the vertex. An excursion
round the world.

CHAPTER XXXI.

A journey — New Utopia to Mount Ceres. Farming on the
Mohave desert. Vitre. New wheat districts in Nevada
and southwestern Utah. A cure for the hessian fly and
wheat midge. The forests in the Wahsatch mountains.
The city of Mount Ceres. The landscape. The Mount
Ceres water works.

CHAPTER XXXII.

Fort Goodwill again. The school children and the squirrels.
An excursion. The city at sunrise on a June morning.
The orchard and the birds. The woods in the canyon.
The wild deer visit us. The view from observation point.
The wild flowers of the woodland. A clover field. Cut-
ting and hauling clover for the cows. The workingmen's
return from the industries to their homes in the city.
Signs of a public bereavement.

CHAPTER XXXIII.
The obsequies of General Goodwill. The end.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

1. Author's portrait ; frontispiece.

2. Map. The Uintah or Fort Goodwill district. . .Chap. 3

3. Map. The environs of Fort Goodwill Chap. 4

4. Diagram. The model block, Fort Goodwill .... Chap. 4

5. Full page drawing. A power station in the

Uintah mountains Chap. 5

6. Map. The Southern California district Chap. 6

7. Full page drawing. A glimpse of the tunneled

canal Chap. 7

8. Diagram. Section of cow barn frame. Fort

Goodwill dairy Chap. 9

9. Diagram. A wheat block in the catacombs, New

Utopia Chap. 22

10. Drawing. The auditorium, San Jacinto moun-

tains, California Chap. 24

11. Drawing. Herron pavilion, New Utopia Chap. 25

12. Drawing. A New Utopian schoolhouse Chap. 28

13. Diagram. Plan and section of frame of New

Utopian schoolhouse Chap. 28

14. Map. The Mount Ceres district Chap. 31

(Illustrations and maps drawn by the author.}

PREFACE.

This is a Utopian book, but its Utopia is not, as Utopias
generally are said to be, in the clouds; on the contrary it is
worked out with much detail in accordance with a natural
order of sequence from existing conditions, with every point
definite in time and place, true in all fundamental physical
features to the best maps, true also to the law of cause and
effect and duly regarding the limitations of nature.

Some to whom this book, in manuscript, has been shown,
object that it is too scientific ; perhaps it is the most scientific
of Utopian books. That Utopias, from Bellamy back to Plato,
are in cloudland. unscientific, out of touch with reality and
unattainable, is the charge which these critics make, while the
logical steps required to make Utopia scientific and plant it
on the rocks are the features which, when presented, they most
object to. This book, however, is written in the belief that
these steps are needed. The aim has been to limit the narra-
tive to the possible, and, following the steps related, to the
practicable, while each consequence stated must necessarily
follow from the measures preceding. If these details had been
omitted, then my Utopia, like the other Utopias, would have
been in the clouds and the purpose of the book could not have
been attained. If the earth is ever to be perfected, such meas-
ures as are here detailed must be taken, and as in the order of
nature first things must be done first, so in the plan of this
book first things are first related. In necessary sequence from
these measures, from a condition natural and probable as
things are going, the purpose is to evolve the conduct of a
world as it is conceived that the world ought to be conducted,
and to plant in the minds of readers a better ideal than that
which usually animates mankind.

12 Perfecting the Earth.

In building an edifice the foundation must first be laid, but,
while the steps in that part of the structure are not without a
certain interest in themselves, the interest felt there is mainly
reflected from the superstructure and the purposes which it is
to serve. In this book the first twelve chapters may be re-
garded as the laying of a foundation. The building of the
superstructure is comprised in the twelve chapters following,
while nine chapters at the conclusion of the book portray the
life and conditions prevailing in the perfected earth after the
work is practically completed.

If anyone sitting down to the repast here presented finds
himself growing satiated with the first course and impatient for
the ideal conditions that one expects in a Utopian essay, per-
haps it might not be asking too much of him that he should
pass on for the time to the subsequent parts of the book where
such conditions are treated ; he will find no better Utopia any-
where than here, and the steps by which this Utopia is made
practicable will keep as fresh for another occasion.

The plan of this book not only permits but necessitates a
variety in its contents almost equal to that in real life, and it is
hoped that for a great variety of tastes it contains something of
sufficient value to repay perusal.

C. W. WOOLDRIDGE.
Cleveland, Ohio, March, 1902.

INTRODUCTION.

It is hoped that none of those who may read this book will
imagine that the military role which it sets forth is, in the
author's mind, the one and only way through which mankind
may be emancipated from the bondage of poverty and the
ultimate perfection of the earth can be attained. Far otherwise.
There are many paths, each leading directly from one of many
starting points, and each from such starting point being the
shortest and easiest way to reach the desired goal.

The line of progress set forth in this book is simply one of
those that will be available if one of the worst tendencies now
apparent should come to the consummation described in our
opening.

If we should start from where we now are, taking the
simplest possible measures that would remedy the evils now
existing among us, so that we put an end to the evils, we could
not fail to change our social order from the competitive and
commercial to the co-operative and educational in doing so,
and, this accomplished, all physical works that may be desired
are feasible.

Here in the city in which we now write, in the second
winter of the twentieth century, we are in the enjoyment of
unexampled prosperity. All important newspapers of the city
are agreed that this is the fact ; they prove it, too, by the reports
of banks, by the volume of business transactions as reported
in the various commercial bulletins, and by all the various
statements and records by which trade and commerce keep
track of their doings and conditions.

And yet, in this city, this winter, we have had detailed in
our newspapers the tragedy of one man, sober and industrious,
the father of a family dependent on his earnings for support,

14 Perfecting the Earth.

who, having had the misfortune to lose his employment, sought
in vain for months, both in his own city and elsewhere, for
opportunity to earn bread for his family now reduced to star-
vation. Driven at last to desperation, he applied for work in
the construction of a water tunnel under the bed of Lake Erie.
This is special work, which must be done in compressed air,
which none but those trained to it can do, but it seemed his
only chance, and to get the job the poor fellow falsely asserted
that he had been a tunnel worker all his life. He was em-
ployed, and, weakened as he was by privation, before the first
day was past he was dead.

Then the newspapers printed his story ; charity stepped in
and carried food, fuel and clothing to his perishing family.
Now they are heard of no more ; what may have become of
them after that temporary supply was exhausted God may
know but the people do not.

Again : an unknown man is found face downward in a
snowdrift dead, and the fact comes to light that he has, day
after day, been an applicant for work to an employer of labor
near the place where he died, begging for employment, saying
that he must have work because he had a starving family that
could not wait. He had been put off from day to day with
hope for the morrow, but here he lay dead in the snow. He
had found death but not employment.

Another : A young man met the most dreadful loss that
can befall a man, he lost his job, and after a few days of fruit-
less effort to find other employment he gave it up as hopeless
and put a bullet through his brain. Another under similar
conditions is carried to the asylum insane. These are but a
few of the tragedies of life happening within a single month, in
a time of great prosperity, in one of the most prosperous of
American cities, but for each to whom thus death or madness
brings release many suffer no less keenly that their sufferings
are continued on and on without cessation. The wounded
outnumber the killed, in this as in other wars, and suffer more.

If these things happen now in times of prosperity, to what
may not adversity bring us?

Introduction. 15

Such cases growing more and more numerous, is it too
much to hope for, or, O ye business men who so vigilantly
guide the public policy in such paths that your interests may in
no case be trenched upon, is it too intolerable to be permitted,
no matter how many lives may be sacrificed to avoid it, that
some American city shall provide opportunity for every one
who needs employment to find it and live thereby?

That in the last analysis it is by labor that all are supported
none will deny. Shall, then, men able and anxious to render
the necessary labor be permitted to support themselves, or
shall they not?

That is the question which with greater and greater insist-
ence is ever being pressed on every community in which there
are needy unemployed, and no answer but a direct and un-
equivocal yes will settle that question.

There are four conceivable lines of action along which an
effective remedy for the evils of poverty and nonemployment
might possibly be reached: (1) by voluntary association of
individuals; (2) by municipal action in our towns and cities;
(3) by state action, and (4) by national action. But, as matters
now stand, every one of these lines of action unless it be the
last is hampered and hindered by our laws and state constitu-
tions. If only the machinery of the law would remove its
restraining hand we might very soon, either by voluntary asso-
ciation or by municipal action, somewhere plant the public
works and public stores necessary to employ the unemployed
in supplying their own needs and to distribute to them the
product of their own labor. If each town and city had the right
of self government in local affairs, including the right to do, for
the public benefit, anything which any man or any corporation
may lawfully do, it would not be long, I think, before an effec-
tive remedy for these evils would be in operation.

In so far as any attempts have hitherto been made by the
public to provide employment for needy unemployed, some
unproductive, or indirectly remunerative labor, such as work
on the improvement of highways, has usually been found for
them, work that has always been regarded as temporary, and

16 Perfecting the Earth.

the remuneration for which has purposely been kept so meager
that no one would desire to continue in it if he could possibly
find other employment.

But such expedients necessarily imply that those who own
property, and, secondarily, those who are privately employed
and living by their labor, meagerly though it may be, must be
taxed to provide money with which to pay the wages of such
public employes.

Such expedients make no attempt to cure the poverty of
their employes but rather carefully avoid doing so, and the
employment of the unemployed in this manner is an added
burden rather than a relief to the community so employing
them. Clearly, no remedy for the evils under consideration
can lie in this direction.

If, again, for such needy unemployed, productive work
shall be provided in various manufactories, whose products
shall be put on the market and a money wage paid to the
laborers from the proceeds, the cause which in the first place
prevented their employment will be intensified and the condi-
tion before intolerable will be made worse.

It is because they cannot sell the output of an unlimited
industrial force at a profit, as fast as it can be produced, that
private employers cannot employ all who need employment;
if, then, the community shall throw an added supply of goods
on the market which is unable to buy what is already offered,
neither can these goods be sold, and obviously no relief lies
that way. It is not because labor is unproductive but because
the system of sale for profit interposes between labor and its
product that laborers are poor and often unemployed.

Obviously, poverty and unemployment are two phases of
the same evil, and there is no way to remove that evil while
leaving its cause undisturbed. By the employment of the un-
employed in producing directly the things which they need,
and distributing their product to the producers, an effective
system of exchanges being included in such productive em-
ployment, we set aside the cause of the evil. This course will
meet no obstacle in itself until all the wants of the employes

Introduction. 17

are satisfied, and beyond this there will be no need for their
employment.

This remedy, however, has been, and doubtless will con-
tinue to be, strenuously resisted. The reason of such resistance
is because such a remedy must interfere disastrously with busi-
ness. If the community is producing the things which mer-
chants are trying to sell at a profit, producing them as
effectively and economically as they are produced for the trade,
and distributing them to the consumers at the labor cost of
their production, then, of course, no one will any longer pay
dealers' and jobbers' profits on the things which can now be
had at their manufacturing cost. If, on the other hand, laborers
can now find employment, and receive in compensation the
equivalent of the whole product of their toil, they will, of
course, no longer labor for the profit of private employers and
receive a money wage which represents but a fraction of the
value of their product. Obviously this remedy means the end
of the whole profit and commercial system.

Hence it may be assumed that practically all who directly
or indirectly are living by profits will resist it as long as it is
possible to do so. And all who directly or indirectly are living
by profits, means all who have any influence on the course of
affairs, everybody except laborers, from whom ultimately all
profits come.

Hence the hope for this remedy to be applied directly in
our cities is remote, and the distress, and destruction of life
and character which is likely to precede it, is harrowing to
contemplate.

Another way is open along the line of state action, which,
though ultimately effecting the same results, might possibly
postpone a part of that resistance until the effect on business
should be felt, and the opportunities of the new system should
also be present to offset that effect.

If the governing power of the state were friendly to the
purpose, and legal obstacles were removed, a state such as
Ohio might very effectively employ the unemployed in supply-
ing their own needs by establishing two or more settlements

18 Perfecting the Earth.

for that purpose so differing in location and industries that they
would supplement each other. For instance, a manufacturing
town might be planted on Lake Erie, and an extensive agri-
cultural settlement established inland. This latter could, with-
out detriment to its agricultural uses, be so located as to
include coal mining among its resources. Then, with a state
railway, electric or otherwise, connecting them, and their indus-
tries being properly balanced, there would be but a very small
portion of their needs that could not be self supplied.

An obstacle to this course to be encountered in the outset
would lie in the fact that all land necessary for the purpose
would have to be bought from private owners, and the moment
any considerable body of land privately owned is desired for
public use up jumps the price. The private ownership of land
seems to be a great obstacle lying across the threshold of the
way to relief either by state action or voluntary association.

To the United States, if the nation would take such action,
the way is yet open without encountering that obstacle, and
there is no need to wait for a great military army in order to
begin, that would be to wait for a condition far less advanta-
geous than that now existing.

The arid lands of the west, that yet remain in possession
of the government, seem to me to constitute a great opportu-
nity, an opportunity so valuable that the advantage of its public
ownership far more than offsets the disadvantage of the aridity
and the remoteness of these lands. There has of late been a
growing interest in projects for the irrigation, at the national
expense, of such parts of this arid region as may, by methods
feasible under present conditions, be irrigable, but much as I
would like to see that work done, I cannot but wish that for the
present all such plans may come to naught, for the intention is
to establish private ownership over all such lands as fast as they
may be supplied with water, and when this is done the oppor-
tunity which they now present for great things for the good of
mankind will be gone.

But, of the few persons who have read this book in manu-
script, some tell me that the works described in it are so colos-

Introduction. 19

sal, so out of relation with the, scale of magnitudes to which
human enterprises have ever been and yet are limited, that they
will seem to most people like a dream of grandeur out of touch
with the possible, the product of a kind of megalomania,
scarcely sane, and that as such they will drop the subject from
their minds without further considerations.

I beg the reader not to do this. Since nations first began
they have been wont to tax the energies of their people to the
utmost in wars, to marshal them with unity of purpose to ends
of destruction, and that continuously for years, until they have
been utterly exhausted and in some cases well nigh extermi-
nated.

If now, turning such energy to constructive instead of
destructive purposes, nations shall marshal and unify their
spare energy to useful ends, the works to which the continuous
energy of their millions should thus be given would necessarily
be colossal.

There is a great field of usefulness as yet untouched await-
ing such colossal works, a field of usefulness that cannot be
entered upon except by works thus colossal, and it seems to me
a perfectly rational, sane, and legitimate exercise of the imagi-
nation, to picture such colossal works and study the effects
which can be accomplished by them.

Figure up, if you will, the labor-time and the quantity
of material required in order to construct any of the works
described in this book, but remember that under the system
herein set forth labor-time and quantity of materials are the
only expenses that enter into the works. A friend of the
author who is a building contractor said : "Why, I figured up
the work needed to construct the great dam on the Green
river, and I find that it would taken an army of 24,000 men
four years, as we figure such work, just to lay the stone in that
dam."

Well, if that is all, it is certainly feasible, an army of that
size to lay the stone, and another of equal size to prepare it,
and a third larger than both to support these and do other
needful work, can be had just as soon as it is called for.

20 Perfecting the Earth.

And the words, further on, put into the mouth of General
Goodwill : "It would be very poor generalship that could not,
with modern machinery, on a fertile soil, with half the forces at
command, support the whole," is certainly a very moderate
statement of an obvious truth.

A good deal less than half, with very inferior means and
no generalship at all, is doing it now, after a fashion.

Regarding the labor-time required, however, to do such a
work as the Green River dam, it should be considered that on
such a work progress will be vastly more rapid than conditions
permit on such similar work as is now done. The stone, for
instance, in such a work will be laid in blocks as large as
machinery can be made to handle with facility, machinery such
as building contractors now can neither afford to provide them-
selves with nor could they utilize it on such work as they are
now called upon to do.

The United States could enlist an army of a million, or two
millions of volunteer workmen, on the plan of the citizen
tenantry hereinafter described, as fast as they might be wanted,
if the government would undertake to marshal them and utilize
their energies for such purposes as are herein set forth.

Of one condition assumed in our opening chapter it may
be as well to speak a word here. We have assumed the condi-
tion of the country being at peace but having a standing army
of more than half a million of men. Within the last five years
the army of the United States has quadrupled. It looks just
now as if a halt had been called on the tendency which for ten
years, and more, has been so strongly manifested to increase
the army, but the motives, which for ten years before the out-
break of the Spanish war led to the cultivation of militarism
among us in every possible way, are yet alive. We have also,
as a nation, recently expanded into a world-power, vastly more
subject to foreign entanglements than formerly we were, and it
is not in our blood to accept either encroachments or affronts
without resenting them.

We have also undertaken the government of various alien
races, the peoples of distant islands, whom we do not propose

Introduction.

21

to admit as citizens to the enjoyment of the same rights and
privileges which we claim for ourselves, and who don-'t love us
as well as they were thought to love us before we undertook to
govern them without their consent.

These facts will prevent the possibility of reducing our
present military strength, and the first threatening symptom of
war with any important nation, to which we are so much more
exposed than formerly we were, will surely increase our army
to nearer a million than half a million of men.

The opening of this book also assumes a previous political
overturn, into the details of which it is not necessary to enter.

Perfecting the Earth.

A PIECE OF POSSIBLE HISTORY.

CHAPTER I.

The year 1913 found the United States at peace and in no
danger of war, but nevertheless possessing an army of 553,000
men.

The people had grown sick and tired and ashamed of the
military role in which for sixteen years and more they had
allowed themselves to be led, and once more had asserted their
allegiance to the principles of the old Declaration of Indepen-
dence, that government rightfully exists for the purpose of
securing to the people their right to life, liberty, and happiness,
and derives its just powers only from the consent of the
governed.

The idea which had prevailed during the preceding epoch
was that the true purpose of government was to preserve order
while business men amassed wealth ; that it rightfully derived
its authority from the will of the owners of the wealth over
which it held sway ; that "those who have no stake in a country
ought not to have any power to control its policy" ; that the just
powers of government being derived from the consent of the
governed is nonsense, good enough to amuse the foolish
masses with while business men manage affairs, but not for a
moment to be taken seriously as a basis for the practical con-
duct of government.

Now, however, this unbusinesslike and impracticable prin-
ciple had been reasserted, and in accordance with it the Ameri-

24 Perfecting the Earth.

can garrisons had been withdrawn from outlying- parts of the
earth, leaving the people of those regions which had been
occupied, free to govern themselves according to their own
desires, but with the privilege secured to all Americans to
reside or trade in them with all the rights and privileges per-
taining to their own people.

But, as we remarked in the outset, this left the nation with
an army of 553,000 men for which it had no use nor need, nor
any prospect of such a need.

The maintenance of this army was a grievous burden, but
the way was not clear to disband it. Those who owned the
wealth of the land, a class that had for a long time been grow-
ing more wealthy and less numerous, assured the nation that
it was enjoying the acme of prosperity. They, the rich, no
doubt spoke truly for themselves ; the newspapers, which they
owned, with great unanimity echoed the assertion, but, never-
theless, the multitude of the people found it hard to live and
make ends meet.

In addition to the army of the United States, which the
people found it so hard to maintain, the army of the unem-
ployed had continued to grow, and they too had to be main-
tained in some manner by those who worked. If the army
were disbanded there was no place in the ranks of the usefully
employed that could receive the soldiers, and the army knew it,
consequently the army objected to disbandment.

On the other hand the people, knowing that the disband-
ment of the army could only result in turning the soldiers loose
as an addition to the army of the unemployed, a swarm of
tramps, whose military training would make them formidable
and whose miseries would drive them to crime, hesitated to ask
for their disbandment, even though the maintenance of this

Conditions Prevailing in 1913. 25

great army was a burden from which they greatly desired
release.

General Theodore Goodwill had recently come into com-
mand, and, realizing the situation, he sought permission from
the administration to use the army in constructive work for the
public benefit, along lines which he would explain in detail
to a commission authorized to pass judgment on the merits of
his plans. He claimed that if given power to use the army as
he wished he could relieve the distress of the situation by
accomplishing three objects, each greatly to be desired, namely,
first, he would soon make the army self-supporting; second,
he would make army life wholesome, and ultimately lead the
soldiers out of military life into free citizenship; and third, he
would make world improvements which would be a blessing to
mankind, and especially to the United States.

Since it would for sometime be desirable to keep the pur-
pose and character of some of his contemplated works a secret,
he asked for the appointment of a commission of scientific men,
whose judgment would command the respect of the world, to
consider the practicability and soundness of the projects which
he would explain to them, and which commission should have
power to sanction or reject the same, and he suggested that the
chief officers of the U. S. Coast and Geological Surveys, and of
the weather bureau, might appropriately be made a part of that
commission.

The proposition of General Goodwill was laid before Con-
gress in a special message, and after due consideration, the
President was authorized to appoint such a commission as the
General had requested. The General laid his plans before the
commission, which, after considering them for about a month,
during which time he was frequently called before it, in order
to explain and elucidate certain points, with some slight modi-

26 Perfecting the Earth.

fications his proposition was accepted, and he was authorized
to employ the army as he desired.

In accordance with the program thus adopted, imme-
diately following this step came an act of Congress, which had
been called in special session for that purpose, withdrawing
from sale all desert, forest or mineral lands lying west of the
Minnesota, Iowa, Missouri, Arkansas, and Louisiana state
lines, and repealing all laws providing for the sale or alienation
of government lands in so far as they applied to the territory
designated. This bill was signed by the President and took
effect immediately.

As soon as this measure had become a law, in October,
1913, a force of 1,000 surveyors and engineers, officered by
young graduates of West Point, was sent to Salt Lake City,
Utah, to act under the direction of the U. S. Geological Sur-
vey, to whose chief the commanding officer was directed to
report for orders.

The purpose of this expedition was to make topographical
surveys, supplementary to work previously done by the geo^
logical survey in the states of Utah, Nevada, Wyoming, New
Mexico and Arizona, such that by their aid dams and irrigating
canals could be located and constructed to the best advantage
on the streams tributary to the Colorado river and elsewhere
in the region designated ; to report the character of the ground,
and timber where it existed, and also to note and report the
location of all out-cropping mineral deposits and rock forma-
tions.

Another force of 500 surveyors and engineers was at
the same time sent to Los Angeles to make a similar survey of
Southern California from the Pacific coast to the Colorado
river. This force was to act under the direction of the Coast

Conditions Prevailing in 1913. 27

Survey, and was required to plat the whole region with great
minuteness, especially with regard to altitudes.

These preliminary measures having been taken, the world
was treated to a novelty in the following general order :

"To the army of the United States. Soldiers : You are
now in the happy condition of having no human enemy, nor
any probability of an enemy. Nevertheless, conditions are such
that to disband you could not fail to produce intolerable evils
both to yourselves and to the people among whom you would
be scattered. In view of this situation the administration has
determined to utilize your energies in the conquest of nature,
so far as nature remains unfriendly to man.

"In pursuit of this object, you are to be employed in the
construction of works, greater than anything hitherto
attempted by man, for the purpose of turning deserts into
gardens ; at the same time you are to be so distributed, and
your energies are to be so employed, that you will, as a whole,
at the earliest possible moment, become entirely self-support-
ing. Hitherto the work of armies has been destruction, hence-
forth your work will be construction, and with this change of
purpose it is confidently believed that a better era for mankind
has dawned.

"Fearing no enemy to destroy, your camps under the new
order will assume the character of towns, constantly improving
in beauty and convenience.

"Your remuneration will, as rapidly as it is possible to
make it so without calling on others to provide it for you, be
made to approximate a good livelihood, and for merit and
ability you may expect promotion. Pending active operations,
you will receive instructions in the use of machinery, while
your military drill will be limited to your orderly movements
about your camps and to and from your instructions.

Signed, THEODORE GOODWILL,

General commanding."

This order was received with great enthusiasm both by
the army and the people.

28 Perfecting the Earth.

Preliminary reports from the field enabled General Good-
will to place 10,000 quarrymen and stone cutters at work in
eastern Utah that same autumn, railway connections being
made with the Union Pacific line to the camps in order to
secure them against any failure of supplies. Machinery was
already waiting for their use.

An order was issued that the colonels of the several Vegi-
ments should call for ten volunteers out of each company for
this service. This called out about 54,000 men, from whom,
after examination, the required number of men, such as were
likely to make the most effective workmen, were selected and
sent forward to the work.

Another ten thousand selected in a similar manner were
sent forward within a week, to be employed in camp and rail-
road construction. It being known among the soldiers that
steam excavators, wire cable carriers, and other machinery,
the most powerful in existence for the purpose, would be the
means by which as much as possible of the required work
would be done, to be selected and sent on one of these earlier
expeditions was deemed an honor much to be desired.

During the fall and winter following, special instruction
was given to the soldiers who remained in the camps and bar-
racks, not only in the use of machinery and the technical arts
in general, but in their application to the special lines in which
it was anticipated that the services of selected forces would
soon be needed, and special aptitudes were noted and culti-
vated. In this manner men were selected for several lines of
special service, a body of 20,000 iron workers among others,
being put under instruction and training for the various arts
required in smelting, casting, rolling and manufacturing the
varied forms of iron, and the machinery that is built from it,
but for which we should, today, be as feeble in our power to

Conditions Prevailing in 1913. 29

create wealth and transform the world as they were in the
middle ages.

As soon as the melting of the winter snows would permit
work in the field of operations, other men were hurried for-
ward. Ten thousand men with the machinery for making their
work most effective, for the purpose of grading and excavating
irrigating canals, and one thousand brick makers, with the
machinery needed in their art, to provide material for building
the great iron works, which were so urgently needed, were the
first force sent forward in the spring of 1914. These were
quickly followed by others, until, before the middle of May, for
miles along the line laid out for the construction of the main
irrigating canal, steam excavators were puffing and scraping
at intervals of a quarter of a mile, a railway track was graded
and built along its upper border, and cable carriers for remov-
ing the earth were beaded with great buckets moving out with
their loads and returning empty to the excavators, while at each
rocky point the quick hammering of power drills deafened the
ear, and at every ravine and hollow aqueducts of stone were
in process of building. A hundred ample forces of men were
at the same time employed at a hundred correlated tasks, and
before the first of June more than 200,000 men were effectively
employed in the field of these initial operations.

This season the greater portion of the force employed was
concentrated near the junction of the Uintah river with the
Green river in northeastern Utah. The main irrigating canal
was here laid out in a course extending generally from east to
west along a line coinciding with the altitude of 5,462 feet
above the level of the sea, cutting off a V-shaped peninsula of
land, below that level, lying between the canyon of the Green
river and that of the Uintah.

30 Perfecting the Earth.

The distance from the canal due south to the point of the
V was about twelve miles, while that from the eastern limit of
the tract on the border of the canal to the bank of the Uintah
on the west was about sixteen miles ; the entire tract comprised
about 100 square miles of land, and this was the area which it
was proposed to irrigate and sow with wheat this first season.

On the other, or north side of the canal, the ground rises
with a somewhat steeper inclination to the foot of a terrace
which lies at a distance from the canal varying from one mile
at the eastern border of the tract chosen for the first season's
irrigation to four miles at its western limit. The top of this
terrace generally coincides with the level of six thousand feet
above the sea, the territory above its escarpment forming a
nearly level plateau about four miles wide extending to the
foot of the Uintah mountains.

On this plateau above the six thousand feet level, it was
determined to build the city ; the temporary camps, however,
were laid out on the slope between the foot of the terrace and
the canal.

The course of this canal was laid out with the view ulti-
mately to collect the waters of the Green river and its
tributaries, but the works required to accomplish that end were
so great as necessarily to occupy several years. The north
fork of the Uintah alone, however, offered an ample supply of
water for this season's field of irrigation, and the work was so
ordered as to utilize that stream for the purpose.

The Field of Operations Described. 31

§ CHAPTER II.

Let us take a look at the region which has become the
seat of these various operations, while it is yet unchanged by
the hand of man.

The country here lies high and bare. Ranged along on the
north are the towering peaks of the Uintah mountains, some
of them snow-capped all the year. To the westward the Wah-
satch range bounds the horizon. To the southward, across the
slope of land chosen for irrigation and beyond the united can-
yons of the Green, the Uintah, and the White rivers, but ap-
pearing very near, rises a mountainous swell stretching down
from the Wahsatch range on the west and reaching the Rocky
mountains in Colorado on the east, but broken in the middle
by a notch through which the Green River canyon passes
toward the south. Through this notch, dim and azure in the
distance, can be seen the peaks of the mountains through
which the grand canyon of the Colorado cuts its way. The
eastern horizon is broken by the great peaks of the Rocky
mountains. The land near by lies in long gently undulating
slopes, too arid for agriculture, with here and there a scattering
growth of bunch grass which pushes forth in the spring and
then drying where it grows, affords a thin picking of natural
hay on which the buffaloes used to live. Of other vegetation
there was the omnipresent sage bush, and a few other hardy
shrubs ; other plants were there also, of many kinds, but mostly
so inconspicuous that the careless eye was apt to overlook
them, and one needed to be something of a botanist to see them
all; with all these plants, however, the arid barrenness of the
earth was scarcely relieved.

32 Perfecting the Earth.

These slopes and terraces are cut at intervals by deep
ravines in which flow the streams which, coming down from
the mountains all about, unite to form the Green river, and
this, uniting with another similar stream gathered farther east
in the mountains of Colorado, forms the great Colorado river.

The great peaks of the Uintah mountains on the north,
towering a mile and a half above the level of the canal, seem
close by, though their distance is from thirty to sixty miles
away. These peaks themselves are but pinnacles of the crest
of a great rugged swell forming the whole mountain group.
In mountains there are two sites of greatest ruggedness, first
the ravines at their bases and second the peaks and crests at
their summits, the middle heights are usually smoother ground,
but there is very little of this state of Utah below the altitude
of 5,000 feet. In these Uintah mountains in rain and snow
much more water falls than on the lower levels, three times
as much or more. Great works are required to utilize it, but
when the works are built there is water enough for irrigation
and for power. There is timber, too, in these mountain ravines
and valleys, though timber is a scarcity in this region.

This is a picturesque country, gloriously so in its land-
scapes. The distant mountains appear in colors more brilliant,
clear and beautiful than are ever seen at lower altitudes and in
more humid regions, the color varying with the distance, the
time of the day, and the condition of the atmosphere. The
most distant points are of the faintest blue, scarcely distinguish-
able from the sky above them ; on the nearer peaks and ranges
the colors deepen into purple, indigo and blue; on the shady
sides and the ravines of the mountains, especially at distances
of from forty to sixty miles, these colors are often of the rich-
est and most delightful tints imaginable. Nearer than this the
earth tints modify the colors. The nearer peaks and mountain

The Field of Operations Described. 33

walls are mostly dark, but where the light reflects to the eye
they show something of the color of the rocks, slate color, red-
dish brown, occasionally a patch or seam of white, but every-
where overspread with a bluish haze. Even looking down
from a mountain height into a valley at your feet, or up from
that valley to the nearest height, gives distance enough for
this.

Yet it takes some time for a newcomer from the east to
get his mind adjusted to the new scale of distances that is here
spread before his eye. Ten miles here appears scarcely equal
to one as he has known it elsewhere, and if he mounts a horse
for a journey the earth seems to run under him like a treadmill
while he makes no progress. Even a railway train may run
all day approaching and rounding some prominent mountain
group which vanishes from sight in the rear of the train as
night closes in on the scene, and the traveler can scarcely
realize that he has during the day covered more than a decent
day's drive for a horse and buggy. The apparent extent of a
tract of territory depends on how many times it contains what
can be seen at once, and judged by this test the territory of
New Mexico, though it contains about four times as many
square miles as all Ohio, is not equal in apparent magnitude
to the smallest Ohio county. But let us not wander from the
scene of our story.

The plains and terraces of this region are varied by the
mesas — the Spanish for tables. These are flat-topped eleva-
tions bordered by abrupt declivities. They look like remnants
of a former higher level of the earth, which they are, for some
cause left unfinished when the general level of the country was
graded down two, or three, or five hundred feet. Some of
these mesas have been whittled away at their bases until they

34 Perfecting the Earth.

have become peaks, and of others there are mere stumps left,
rocky warts on the otherwise smooth surface of the earth.

These features give variety to the nearer view, but in spite
of the beauty of the landscape, the foreground looks dry and
barren and dreary. All the water comes from the mountains
and runs in the canyons; the surface of the earth is not
refreshed by it.

Excepting for the scarcity of water on these plateaus from
5,000 to 6,000 feet above the sea, the climate is well adapted
to wheat, and the grains, grasses and fruits of the northern
latitudes of the United States. There is a sharp winter here,
but with water enough in the canyons to irrigate the 'earth,
with power enough in the streams for every use, labor and
skill only were needed to utilize these resources in order to
make a garden of this desert. Hence its choice as the first
field of operations designed to make the army self-supporting
while engaged in other and greater world improvements.

Before the first days of summer had come, the great iron
works were ready to begin operations, abundant deposits of
excellent iron ore had been discovered and mines had been
opened, and on the coal lands, of which in Colorado and
Wyoming there were thousands of square miles yet belonging
to the government, with unlimited quantities of the finest coal,
preparations were making to secure an ample supply of coal for
all purposes. Railways were constructed to connect these iron
and coal mines with the new iron works and with the world,
and by the end of June 200,000 more of the army were provided
with employment in this Utah field, or a little more than
400,000 men all told.

In coal and iron mining, however, the army was not
employed. For many years the coal miners of the United
States had lived in the most extreme and degrading poverty,

The Field of Operations Described. 35

their pay insufficient to support a civilized life, and with an-
army of unemployed at all times among them. The military
authorities now saw an opportunity to make an end of this
distress. A sufficient number of enlisted men was sent to the
sites where coal mines were to be opened to establish camps
there in the form of tasteful villages of neat and convenient
houses, with sewers and waterworks and every sanitary re-
quirement supplied, also with schoolhouses and lecture rooms
and everything needful for the mental and moral upbuilding of1
their people, and then the following advertisement was pub-
lished in all the coal mining districts of the United States :

WANTED:

Coal miners, to operate mines connected with the works
now in progress by the military forces of the United States.

Coal miners accepted for employment under this call will
be required to work but eight hours per day, and their com-
pensation will be sufficient to secure to them and their families
a good living with a pension for their support when disabled
by sickness or accident or old age. Houses, clothing, food,
and educational privileges for themselves and their children,
will be provided by the government, and they with their
families will be enrolled, not as a part of the army, but as citizen
tenantry of the United States.

They will have all the rights and privileges of free citizens,
electing their own municipal and civil officers and conducting
their public affairs in accordance with the laws of the land ; the
United States will simply be their landlord and their employer.

An office for the examination and enrollment of applicants
was opened wherever such an office was needed and to such as
were accepted, transportation was furnished for themselves and
their families to the places where they were wanted. Of course,
there was no difficulty in securing the services of as many men
as were required.

36 Perfecting the Earth.

This measure was taken in May, 1914. The iron mines,
also, were manned in precisely the same manner.

At this measure, of course, the wrath of the coal and iron
mining capitalists knew no bounds. They tried to avail them-
selves of their old time refuge in the courts by inducing a judge
to declare the new policy unconstitutional on the ground that
it destroyed the value of their property without compensation,
but they soon learned that the operations of the army of the
United States were not to be prevented by the mandate of a
judge, even though they had made and owned the whole
supreme court, and the judges knew better than to try it. They
tried to avail themselves of the power which so often in the
past had served them to crush a rival through their other selves,
the railroad companies, by charging ruinous rates for trans-
portation, or by professing inability to provide cars where and
when they were needed, but the railway companies were noti-
fied that if they 'did not render the services required of them at
reasonable rates the government would seize and operate the
roads. The privately owned railways, however, did not run to
the points where the coal was mined, nor to where it was
needed; there the government was building its own railways
as well as working its own mines. , They tried to discourage
the government in its new policy by ruinous competition, so
as to give the officials a pretext to say, as of old they were
always ready to say, that public coal mining did not pay, since
private enterprise was producing cheaper than the government
could mine it, but the officials were not now so blind and
idiotic as, for a consideration, officials used to be, and the
government mining went on.

To hold their miners the coal mining companies were
now under the necessity of giving them a much better liveli-
hood than coal miners had ever before been able to obtain, and

The Field of Operations Described. 37

in the course of the new competition the wages of miners went
up and the price of coal went down until there was no profit
left for dividends, and when it became evident that the new
army policy was to be permanent, capitalists began to with-
draw from coal mining and whole districts were abandoned by
their owners. The value of coal lands sank to nothing, and
many of the most important fields were allowed to relapse into
public ownership through the nonpayment of taxes; but as
fast as miners were thrown out of employment by the with-
drawal of capital they were re-employed in the government
mines. In this way the degrading poverty that had so long
been associated with a coal miner's life was done away with.

But for the fact that the capitalists had been enemies of
the new policy from the beginning, these developments had, of
course, made enemies of them by the thousands, but where
thousands of the rich had become bitter and irreconcilable
enemies, the new policy had made millions of friends among
the masses from whom the rich had formerly drawn their sub-
stance. It soon became evident to the millions that the former
value of the property of these mine owners had consisted
simply in their power to oppress their employees on the one
hand and the consumers of their products on the other, thus
making the oppression universal.

38 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER III.

Meanwhile, in the Utah field of operations, wherever on
any special piece of work there was need of hurry, ample force
was detailed to hurry it. As we have seen, before the end of
June there were more than 400,000 men employed there exclu-
sive of the coal and iron miners who were drawn from civil life.
By the first of July the great smelting furnaces were pouring
forth iron in enormous quantities, and simultaneously with the
smelters other departments were set in operation to utilize the
product before it had time to cool. There was the Bessemer
steel department with its converters and rolling mills producing
structural steel, which at this time was largely employed for
spanning ravines and canyons with aqueducts and bridges, and
steel rails, and tempered rods which were passed on to the wire
mills and manufactured mostly into steel wire cables which in
lengths of a little more than a mile were wound on reels and
stored for use a little later. There was also the branch pro-
during steel in forms suitable for the manufacture of machinery
and tools and implements, and the machine shops where all the
various kinds of machinery required, especially dynamos, were
manufactured. But the greatest department of all in these
great iron works was the pipe foundry. This was greater than
all other pipe foundries in the world taken together. Its task
was to produce more than 220 miles of great water mains
within ten weeks.

The first lot of pipe was cast immediately after the fourth
of July, 1914, and there were, as there was need to be, many
miles of great pipe produced at a casting. The slag from the
smelting furnaces, also, was drawn off into moulds and con-

The Iron Works Equipped. 39

verted into such forms as would make it most useful. These
and all other fixed industries were each located according to a
general plan adopted in the beginning of operations, which may
be understood from the map accompanying the next chapter.
The permanent camp or city site was on the terrace above the
6,000 feet level. Radiating through a center chosen in this city
site, four main avenues were located, one in the meridian line
through that center, another at right angles with this, while
the other two bisected the quadrants along the lines from
northeast to southwest, and from southeast to northwest.

The industrial works were planned to occupy a portion of
the tract below the city terrace but above the irrigating canal,
and the section of this tract lying between the western con-
tinuation of the avenue extending directly westward from the
proposed city center and the southwest avenue, was devoted to
that purpose. This section bounded by the foot of the city
terrace, the avenues mentioned, the irrigating canal and the
Uintah river canyon, as may be seen from the map, comprises
an area equal to half a township, or eighteen square miles. On
this tract near the border of the canal and extending along the
southwest avenue the iron works were located, and other
industries in such relation to these and the contemplated city
as would give the greatest economy in their working. The
temporary camps lay on the same side of the canal, to the east-
ward of the industrial tract, between the southwest and the
southeast avenues.

The irrigating canal, until near the middle of August,
remained a dry excavation with a railway track along its upper
or northern side. The works preparatory to the irrigation and
sowing with wheat of the triangle of land lying south of this
canal and included between the Green river canyon on the
east and that of the Uintah river on the west at this time occu-

40 Perfecting the Earth.

pied a large proportion of the force employed in this region.
The most conspicuous of these works was an aqueduct extend-
ing directly south from the canal to the southern point of the
peninsula in such a manner that it divided the distance between
the two canyons as nearly equally as possible. The length of
this aqueduct is a fraction over twelve miles. It was designed
to hold the water at an elevation of from 25 to 75 feet above
the land to be irrigated from it, and to serve as a reservoir of
still water as well as a channel to carry a stream, but in the
course of its twelve miles of length the land sinks away to a
level more than 400 feet below that of the canal.

This difficulty was overcome by building the aqueduct in
distinct sections : The first section, to hold water on the same
level as that in the canal, extends southward until the land has
so fallen away that the height of the aqueduct is fifty feet.
Here a new section begins, 25 feet below the level of the
first; this continues in the same line, until, as before, its
height is 50 feet. In the same manner each section is succeeded
by another at a level 25 feet below the preceding, until the
lowest level is reached at the border of the canyon. This
aqueduct is built of cut stone, on arches, in a style equal to the
best of Roman workmanship ; it carries a volume of water ten
feet wide by seven feet deep, and each section opens into the
next below by an automatic valve gate controlled by a float on
the lower section. For three miles from its point of departure
from the main canal, this aqueduct is not designed to discharge
any water, but beyond that point it is fitted with discharge
gates opening into stand-pipes at intervals of half a mile. In
building this aqueduct the work was going on throughout its
entire length at the same time, a railway track having been
constructed to carry the stone from the quarries in the begin-
ning ; thus the entire structure was completed within six weeks

The Iron Works Equipped. 41

from the time it was begun, and that without any particular
hurry.

The land for irrigation was laid out on each side of this
aqueduct, beginning at the point where the discharge gates
and stand pipes begin, in sections half a mile wide, at right
angles with the aqueduct and extending to the canyon borders
in either direction.

Along the lines of division between these sections water
pipes of 18, 24 or 30 inches in diameter, according to the area
of land to be supplied from each pipe, were laid on beds of
masonry, and above these pipes strongly mounted in the same
structure of stone, pulley shafts wrere placed, and all connected
with motor dynamos. This whole arrangement was covered
with sheds and an electric railway track was constructed along
the front of each shed.

When these water mains were laid they were fitted at
intervals of 300 feet with plugs for four inch hose, a quarter of
a mile of such hose to each plug was provided and stored in
the power sheds where it was wanted.

The land irrigated from this aqueduct is bounded on the
north by a straight east and west line drawn through the point
where the first outlet gate was constructed, three miles from
the point of departure of the aqueduct from the canal. Between
this line and the canal is a tract varying in breadth from a little
less than three miles to five and a half miles. This was laid out
in similar one-half-mile sections, equipped with water mains
and power shafts in the same manner as those irrigated from
the aqueduct, but at right angles to them, that is with the divi-
sion lines and power sheds running north and south.

This portion of the tract, which receives water directly
from the canal, is greater in area by one-half than that watered
from the aqueduct. The portion of the canal to be finished

42 Perfecting the Earth.

this year was limited to a section 18 miles long, beginning
at the point of its nearest approach to the Green river canyon
just east of the tract to be irrigated and terminating at the
passage of the north branch of the Uintah river on the west.
At this point, a substantial dam, of cut stone laid in cement,
and founded on the bed rock, was built to retain the water to
the height of the canal, 87 feet above the bed of the stream.
This forms a fine storage reservoir for the canal.

This north fork of the Uintah comes down by nearly the
shortest possible course from the highest parts of the Uintah
mountains ; its course lies mostly through a wild ravine with a
succession of cataracts and cascades and rapids throughout its
entire length. At a point about 20 miles up the stream
from the storage reservoir, near the 9,000 feet altitude line,
there is, however, a length of nearly two miles in which the
total fall is not more than 20 feet. At the foot of this level
reach, the bed rock was cleared of earth and mortised to receive
the foundation of a massive dam of cut stone which was built
across the ravine and carried to the height of 75 feet.
This formed a lake two miles long by three-quarters of a mile
wide in which all sediment subsides leaving the water perfectly
clear, an ideal source of supply for the future city. From this
reservoir the water is conducted down the descent of 3,600 feet
to the storage reservoir of the canal by nearly level reaches
alternating with steep descents of from 50 to 75 feet at a leap ;
at which points power stations were constructed.

On the west and larger fork of the Uintah another dam
and feeding reservoir was also constructed. This dam is 22
miles west of the storage reservoir which is on the north
fork, and just below the confluence of an important tributary
with the west fork, but its altitude is only about 500 feet above
that of the storage reservoir. This 68 feet dam in fact lifts the

The Iron Works Equipped.

43

The Iron Works Equipped. 45

water just to the 6,000 feet level, where it forms a fine forked
lake, one arm of which is five miles long and the other three
and a half. From this reservoir the water is conducted through
a feeding canal which closely follows the 6,000 feet contour
line allowing only about one and a half feet fall per mile. This
secondary canal also intercepts several smaller tributaries
along its course ; it is constructed to have a width of 25 feet on
the bottom and to carry a depth of from six to eight feet of
water. This channel makes available for irrigation a fine tract
of land that lies above the level of the main canal. When it
approaches the north fork there is a fall of about 500 feet, over
which the waters are conducted before they reach the storage
reservoir and the main canal. To effect this descent the water
is carried from one level to another through power stations
similar to those on the north fork.

A few of the many other works in progress should be
mentioned. The quarrying and cutting of stone was, as we
have seen, the very first undertaken. Just above the storage
reservoir, on the north fork of the Uintah, where, going up
the stream the cascades began, is the outcropping of an im-
mense deposit of hard, grey sandstone, thick bedded in hori-
zontal strata. Here the quarries were started in the beginning,
and here the stone was cut and prepared for the reservoir dam,
for the aqueduct, and for the many other uses for which much
was needed in preparing all these works and building the
future city. For the dam forming the high level reservoir
suitable stone was quarried in the mountains above.

Railway tracks, adapted for steam locomotives at first, but
ultimately to be operated by electric power, were built to con-
nect these quarries with all other works. This was very neces-
sary, since horse power was used in the very earliest prepara-

46 Perfecting the Earth.

lions only, and very little then. In great works horse power
is very expensive.

The railway up the north fork of the Uintah to the high
level reservoir was made double tracked to operate as a gravity
road, the cars being attached to a cable passing over a drum,
loaded cars coming down drawing the empty ones (back.
Along the course of this gravity line are the lime kilns and the
cement works, for which abundant material exists along the
way. On the tract devoted to industries, just north of the iron
works and extending to the canal, about two square miles of
clay land was reserved for brick, tile, and architectural terra
cotta works. On southwest avenue, between the iron works
and the city terrace, are the machine shops, the hose factory,
the coal depot, and the gas works, with ample sites reserved for
many other industries to be established later. All these works
were from the beginning planned on a large scale, and in none
of them was it intended long to use, steam as a motive power,
everything being planned for operation by electricity.

Two other industries for which, among the earliest of
these operations suitable buildings were erected, on southwest
avenue nearest the foot of the city terrace, deserve special men-
tion; these were the cooking department, and, a little farther
down the avenue, the laundry. In the cooking department
through the summer of 1914 the food was prepared to supply
the needs of more than 400,000 men. The task seems immense,
but armies must be fed. Industrial armies, especially, deserve
to be well fed, and, great as the kitchens had need to be, in
which the food was cooked for 400,000 men, it is obvious that
cooking can be better done with less expenditure of energy,
and less waste of time in well equipped kitchens and by expert
cooks, than about camp fires with camp utensils, by men de-
tailed in turns from the companies.

The Iron Works Equipped. 47

As with the food of the army in this respect, so it was with
their washing. If the care of the clothing of a large body of
men, especially in camp life, is left to themselves, it means dirt
and vermin and disease and degradation, all of which, doubt-
less, have always been inseparable from the military operations
of war, but which wrould be a reproach and a shame to the
industrial army, besides destroying its efficiency. To prevent
this, this great laundry was established in the very beginning.
With the best steam apparatus, its capacity was enlarged as
fast as the forces gathered, until its weekly duty was to cleanse
the garments of more than 400,000 men. No such laundry
had ever before existed or been thought of. Here came the
soiled clothing of the army in company, detachment, and regi-
mental packages, working uniforms and underclothing. It was
found to be economy that every man should have two suits and
change weekly, and here every piece received the treatment
appropriate to its cleansing, was repaired where repairs were
needed, and, perfectly laundried and renovated, the regimental
and company lots were returned to their places every Saturday,
so that the men began every week clad throughout in clean
garments. Of course, pains were taken to provide for all bath-
ing opportunities also.

48 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER IV.

It was early in June of this year, 1914, when, by order of
the war department, the camp and city building in the Uintah
district was given the name of Fort Goodwill.

Even at that early date work on the city site was well
under way. When we think of the many great works that were
going on at the same time during this, which was afterward
known as the hurry season, we should remember, not only the
great number of workmen employed, but the fact that in all
the various enterprises in which they were engaged the work
was done by the most effective machinery applicable where
earth was to be removed or excavated there were no teams or
wagons, and but very few shovels employed, but great steam
shovels, plows and scrapers lifted and loosened the earth, while
strong steel cables, stretched on wooden supports overhead,
were the roads along which great carriers ran to and fro loaded
with tons of earth at a time to convey it to the place where it
was desired to deposit it. Where rock was to be removed,
power drills cut down quickly, and the rock was loosened and
lifted in great blocks, as it is in quarries, to be afterwards
applied to any purpose for which it was best adapted.

In preparation for building the city the ground had been
platted on a double system of streets and avenues. The pri-
mary system has already been mentioned as consisting of four
main avenues intersecting each other at the site chosen for the
city center, one running north and south, another east and
west, and the other two bisecting the quadrants. At the point
of intersection of these avenues it was intended ultimately to
place a grand public edifice, and the avenues radiating from

City Named Fort Goodwill.

49

City Named Fort Goodwill. 51

this center were considered and named as eight, thus : Begin-'
ning with the one running north, North Meridian avenue,
North East avenue, Eastern avenue, South East avenue, South
Meridian avenue, South West avenue, Western avenue, and
North West avenue. To these, as a part of the primary system,
must be added the Park Front avenue. This lies in a broken
line generally parallel to the terrace slope that borders the city
plateau, but descending at its western end obliquely to join the
continuation of the Western avenue on the level of the indus-
trial district below. This avenue marks the border of the city
proper, being platted for buildings on the north side only, while
the south side facing the hill slope was reserved for park pur-
poses. Attention is called thus particularly to this avenue,
because it marks the line of the main intercepting sewer and
subway, the construction of which was the primary work after
the survey preparatory to building the city.

Superimposed on this primary system of avenues is the
secondary system, dividing the city into blocks each one-half
mile square by streets running north and south and east and
west.

As soon as the survey was thus far completed and grades
established, men and machinery were employed in constructing
the subway and sewer system. This was done by opening
trenches along the Park Front avenue, and, opening into this,
along each of the streets of the secondary system running north
and south. Each such trench was made deep enough and wide
enough to build the required sewer in the bottom of it and floor
it over, and to wall up the sides with masonry in a substantial
manner, and to deck over the chasm on steel arches to support
the pavement of the street, thus forming a subway ample to
accommodate all water pipes, gas pipes, electrical conductors,

52 Perfecting the Earth.

and other conduits which might afterwards be needed, and
room enough for passage besides.

The walls of these subways were built with arches for the
openings of the secondary subways and sewers afterwards to
be built, but those already mentioned being sufficient for the
needs of the first season, the construction of this secondary
system was deferred until wanted.

The earth removed from these trenches was carried by
elevated cableways, such as have been described, to the low
places and used in grading up the adjacent blocks.

About the time that the surveyors began the work of
laying out the city of Fort Goodwill, an advertisement was
published inviting architects to submit plans for public build-
ings, each to consist of three stories and basement, such build-
ings being designed to serve, in the upper stories, as lecture
halls, libraries and reading rooms; in the second stories as
public parlors and school rooms, and on the ground floor as
dining rooms, with kitchens and other accessories in the base-
ments. These buildings to be of dignified and appropriate
architecture; to be provided with steam heat, water, gas and
electric services, with boiler and power rooms placed beneath
the level of the ground external to the buildings and opening
into the basements. Gas to be used for fuel. These buildings
to be fitted temporarily each to serve as an habitation for 1,000
to 1,200 men.

Of such buildings the advertisement stated that it was
designed to erect during the present season in Fort Goodwill
from 75 to 100; that uniformity of design and appearance in
these buildings was not desired, and that, therefore, an archi-
tect submitting a design of merit might reasonably hope for its
acceptance; that any architect whose design was accepted
would be employed to superintend the erection of the building,

54

Perfecting the Earth.

1

r

1 1

•MODEL

'/z fnilt

City Named Fort Goodwill. 55

and that he might, if he wished, expect to be retained in the
service of the government for similar employment during a
series of years afterward. Finally it was stipulated that all
designs for such buildings must be submitted before the 20th
day of July next.

In completing the plan adopted for laying out the city of
Fort Goodwill, while latitude was allowed for variation to adapt
each individual block to special circumstances, a normal type of
block was chosen in the beginning, according to the accom-
panying plan.

This normal block was laid out thus: Each of its four
sides, half a mile, or 2,640 feet in length, was divided into ten
equal parts of 264 feet each. From these points of division
lines were drawn parallel to each of the four sides of the block,
thus dividing it into strips of equal width parallel to its four
sides, each strip, counting from the outside toward the center
of the block, being shortened to avoid crossing the strips on
the adjacent sides in the course external to it. Each corner,
on which strips of the same number from the border of the
block cross each other, was reserved for common use. From
each of these strips on its outer edge 50 feet was set off for
street purposes ; two of these 50 foot strips falling together on
the borders of two adjoining blocks constitute the secondary
system of streets already mentioned. At the corners of each
such block the squares formed by the crossing of the external
strips on the sides of each of the four blocks meeting at such
corners, together with the 50 feet corresponding to the width
of the first internal street, forms a square reserved for public
purposes, each side of which measures 628 feet. The centers
of each of these squares were the sites chosen for the public
buildings contemplated in the advertisement before cited.

56 Perfecting the Earth.

The 50 foot strips internal to each block being designed to
serve as parkways between lines of residence lots without
fences, on which the houses were to stand well back, were of
ample width. To complete the system of internal thorough-
fares in each such block, other 50 foot strips were laid out
through the center of the block, parallel to the sides, dividing
the block into quarters and bisecting each residence strip, while
the squares reserved to the public overlapping each other along
the diagonal lines furnished ample space for roadways there.
Thus within a very short distance from any point in the city a
thoroughfare was provided along a straight line to very near
any other point, with no acute angles to turn, while the build-
ing lots were all right angled and square with the world.

The portion of each such block remaining on which to
build houses consisted of strips each 214 feet wide, affording
ample space for houses fronting each side of each street or
parkway, with space enough for lawns, trees and flowers about
each house. The entire model block provides such space for
about 600 residences, which, if occupied each by a normal
sized family of five, would give a total population of three
thousand on each such block of half a mile square ; the central
sections were left open in each block to form a public park or
playground, 528 feet in extent on each side.

In working out this plan the public buildings placed on
the corner squares as described would, of course, terminate
the vista on all the streets forming the divisions between the
blocks. Where such streets or corners coincided with the main
avenues of the primary system, however, the public buildings
were set on one side and the plan of the block modified accord-
ingly, these main avenues being designed to be clear through-
out their entire extent, with the exception of the great city hall
at their intersection in the center of the city.

City Named Fort Goodwill. 57

About this intersection a quarter of each of the four adja-
cent blocks was reserved without building's, for park purposes,
thus making a central park about the city hall half a mile
square.

The borders of all the streets and avenues, together with
the central squares in the blocks and the squares reserved for
common use along the diagonals of the blocks, were turned
over to the charge of the board of forestry and lanscape garden-
ing for ornamentation, with the provision that the central
square of each block, while to be planted with a sufficient
number of trees, was to be. especially fitted as a playground for
children.

To designate locations throughout the entire city these
blocks are numbered north and south from eastern and western
avenues, and east and west from the meridian avenues, just as
the United States survey designates townships by their number
and range north and south of a given base line and east and
west from a primary meridian, and in the central square of
each block is a sign marked with the meridian and range
numbers of the block. To locate individual houses in each
such block, the streets are numbered front, first, second and
third streets east, west, north, and south, counting from the
outside toward the center, so that an individual address might
be, John Smith, No. 14 Second St. North, Block 3 South 2
West, Fort Goodwill, Utah.

To make Fort Goodwill tenable through the coming win-
ter it was necessary that the public buildings, on the corner
squares should be substantially completed and furnished with
their temporary fittings as barracks ; also that the waterworks
and the sewers and subways should be so far completed as to
connect with these buildings, also, since gas was to be the fuel
used in these buildings, that the gas works must be com-

58 Perfecting the Earth.

pleted, and gas pipes as well as water pipes laid in the sub-
ways to connect with- them, and all the works were pushed
vigorously forward.

The plans for the buildings had been sent in in such num-
bers and excellence that nothing further could be desired in the
assortment from which to choose, and the required number
had been accepted and assigned each to its proper location, and
work was in progress on them by the first of August. By the
first of October the roofs were on them, and, since much of the
inside finishing was intentionally deferred until they could be
devoted to their ultimate uses, there was no difficulty in making
the needful preparations for the coming winter so far as these
buildings were concerned. And a strange looking place they
made of Fort Goodwill. Eighty odd noble edifices standing
half a mile apart in a treeless desert, the plain surrounding them
giving evidence of having recently been torn up with trenches
which were now mostly covered in, but with nothing but them-
selves in sight to relieve their solitary greatness.

For the water works the high reservoir on the north fork
of the Uintah furnished an ideal source of supply. It was fin-
ished and filled about the middle of August. The mains to
conduct the water to the city were laid before that time, but as
there was three thousand feet of fall between that reservoir and
the city it was necessary to construct several intervening reser-
voirs into which the water could be conducted from one to the
other to moderate the pressure. A system of automatic valve
gates, controlled by floats in buildings connected with each
intermediate reservoir, prevented overflow or waste. It was
necessary to house all such apparatus in order to prevent its
freezing up in winter.

The last of these reservoirs, which determines the pressure
in the city, was placed at an elevation of 150 feet above the

City Named Fort Goodwill. 59

highest point to be built upon. On reaching the city it was
necessary to construct for the water pipes a girdling subway
about the north or mountain border similar to that on the
Park Front avenue, though smaller, in order to connect with
the upper ends of the subways on the north and south streets.
This was done, the pipes were laid and the water turned on as
soon as the water in the high reservoir was ready ; before that
time, in order to supply the water needed for the building
operations in progress, and for the camp, a temporary system
of pipes laid on the surface and connected with the north fork
of the Uintah at the nearest point where the elevation was
sufficient had answered every need.

The gas works, being designed to furnish fuel for the
whole city permanently, were made on a scale proportioned to
the probable demand on them. They too were ready writh
every perfection that science and art could give them, the pipes
were laid and tested, and the tanks filled with gas ready to turn
on in each building as soon as it was completed. It had been
ascertained beyond the possibility of a doubt that fuel for all
the needs of the city could thus be supplied in the form of gas
with the consumption of much less coal than would be needed
if it were to be burned in individual furnaces and fireplaces,
besides doing away with the labor and dirt inseparable from
distributing the coal about the city and collecting the ashes,
and also preventing the smoke in the atmosphere and the grime
on everything which that ancient, wasteful and unclean mode
of consuming coal would necessitate ; all of this the use of gas
for fuel entirely obviated. It was not found desirable to con-
vert all the carbon of the coal into gas, the coke produced
being needed in the iron works. There were other by products,
also, some of them chemicals of great value, all of which found

60 Perfecting the Earth.

their place and use in the system of works of which these
formed a part.

To correct the treeless dreariness of this region, a board
of forestry had been appointed early in the season, and to this
board all suitable land lying in the bottom of the Green river
canyon within twenty miles of Fort Goodwill, about three
thousand acres, had been assigned for nurseries. This land
being sheltered by the rocky walls of the canyon and easily
watered from the river, was admirably adapted for that use,
and there, as the proper season arrived, under conditions
suited to the needs of each, the seeds were sown from which the
following year millions of forest trees would spring, of every
kind, useful or ornamental, that could be made to thrive in
this region. These trees, however, could not be ready for
planting for several years, and for the immediate vicinity of
buildings arrangements were made with nurseries in various
parts of the United States for trees suitable for planting in the
coming spring.

When, early in the season, the railways connecting Fort
Goodwill with the iron mines and the coal mines and the world
at large, had been completed, the force that had been employed
in their construction was distributed along a line parallel with
the Green River canyon to near its junction with that of the
Grand river to build a railway there. Because of the necessity
of opening the way continuously to near the site of operations
of the remotest force employed in this enterprise, the work of
pushing a railroad through the desert could not be conducted
along the whole line at once, but was necessarily made pro-
gressive; however, the distribution of force was sufficiently
extensive, and the machinery employed so effective that pro-
gress was very rapid.

City Named Fort Goodivill. 61

After following the directi-on of the Green river for about
120 miles, this line of railway was turned westward and con-
tinued along a course winding west and southwest through the
wilds and deserts of the Wahsatch range and thence south-
westward across the deserts of southern Nevada toward the
California line.

It will be remembered that the 400,000 men employed
during this season in the Fort Goodwill region had left more
than 100,000 men for service elsewhere, of whose employment
nothing has yet been said. This division had been sent to
southern California and their headquarters established at San
Bernardino. About 20,000 men of this division had been or-
ganized into a railroad building force and employed in pushing
a railway north and northeast, across the great Mohave desert,
and on over the southern part of the Sierra Nevada range
across the Nevada line. This line of road effected a junction
with that coming down from Fort Goodwill about the middle
of October, and the line was open from Fort Goodwill to San
Bernardino. The completion of this line of road during this
season was very important because the buildings going up in
Fort Goodwill could accommodate properly but little more
than 85,000 men during the coming winter, and the winters
there were severe. It was necessary, therefore, before the
season closed, to remove the 320,000 and more in excess of
that 85,000 men out of that region into a warmer climate, and
it was intended to take them to southern California.

62 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER V.

In none of the works in and about Fort Goodwill was it
intended to use steam as a permanent source of power. The
location, with 3,500 feet head of water in one river close by,
with 500 feet head on another, with other streams of consider-
able size pouring down from mountain heights not far away,
is an ideal one for the development of water power.

Away back in the '80s, a very effective water wheel was
invented, for use on small streams furnishing a high head of
water. This was especially well adapted for the development of
electric power from mountain streams, and it was first exten-
sively used for that purpose in the Sierra Nevada mountains in
California where it was perfected and generally applied to that
use in the early nineties.

Long ago in the olden time, before the steam engine was
invented, when water power was the power of the world, the
saying became a proverb, "You can not grind with water that
is past." All through the reign of the steam engine that saying
remained true, and because water power had to be used where
nature placed it and could not be had where it was wanted, it
fell into disuse and the steam engine became the world's source
of power. But when electric power was discovered, and the
dynamo wa's invented, this old proverb became no longer true.

You can grind with water that is past ; you can grind with
water that has not yet come to your mill ; when it pours down
from mountain heights you can grind with the same water
used over and over again ; you can grind with water that isn't
coming by the way of your mill at all ; you can grind anywhere
with water anywhere else within twenty-five or thirty miles of

64

Perfecting the Earth.

Water, Steam, and Electric Power. 65

your mill or even farther, hence water power is resuming its
ancient place and the steam engine is falling to the rear.

As a permanent source of power for this region, in addi-
tion to the two main forks of the Uintah which have been
mentioned, all other tributaries of the Uintah and the Green
rivers within twenty miles of Fort Goodwill, of which there
are many, were followed up and fitted with power stations
suited to the size of the stream.

These power stations are made by building across the bed
of the stream at the head of each slope a strong dam of stone,
making a pond on the stream above, which reaches to the foot
of the next slope and the power station above. Each such dam
is fitted with a flood gate opening it to the bottom, to be
opened in times of storms and freshets in order that the stones
and earth washed down by the rains and melting snows may
pass on and not be deposited in the basins above the dams.
From a discharge flume, into which the water flows freely from
this pond, a series of iron pipes are placed side by side, the
united capacity of which is sufficient to carry a volume of water
as great as is thought desirable to use, which, of course, from
ponded waters like these is by no means limited to the volume
of the stream. This series of pipes is termed the battery ; each
pipe extends from the flume above to the foot of the slope, and
each pipe tapers from the top to the bottom to fit the diminish-
ing volume of the stream caused by its increase of velocity as it
falls. At the foot of each such pipe is placed a water wheel
and each wheel is connected with a dynamo, pipe, wheel and
dynamo in each case being of a capacity suited to each other,
and the whole properly housed. Arranged in this manner, it is
easy to use as many or as few of the dynamos as may be needed
to produce the required power at any time, while, on small
streams, the ponding waters above reserve all the power not in

66 Perfecting the Earth.

use at any time, for use when wanted later, and waste is
avoided. By this multiple system of flumes, wheels and dyna-
mos, and the reservoirs at the head of each battery, each station
can, if needed, for a time be pushed up to its maximum capac-
ity at any stage of the water, and the power available is
immense. When, in the winter, these mountain ravines are
blocked with snow and inaccessible, power is not needed for
agricultural operations, and the stations on the larger streams
are more than sufficient for all requirements, then the flood
gates in the dams on these mountain streams are thrown
open, the machinery in the power houses is oiled and covered
with canvas, and the stations are closed for the season.

While all these preparations were going on in the moun-
tains, on the city site and on the desert plains, the work on the
wheat lands had been pushing forward with no less energy.
All the sage brush and other encumbering growths had been
grubbed out and carried away, surface stones had been re-
moved, and such rocks as could not be removed were located
and marked. The pipe lines, power shafts, pulleys and wire
cables, with shifting apparatus to remove the pulleys and cables
from place to place, as the moving machinery on the land
might require, were all completed and properly housed ; revers-
ible gang plows made very strong, for lightness was not
necessary, one to every half mile, were waiting in the power
sheds, while seed drills and grain to complete the sowing stood
in readiness to follow the plows. The hose pipes were coiled in
the sheds, a quarter of a mile of it to each plug, once in three
hundred feet. The reservoirs, the canal and the aqueduct were
full of water ; the irrigating force had been drilled in the service
required of them, and, on the 15th day of September, 1914,
everything was in readiness to turn the water on the land.

Water, Steam, and Electric Poiver. 67

At 8 a. m. of that date an electric car ran down the tracks
on every section of land to be irrigated and left three men at
each hose plug. At the signal each of these section parties
began laying and coupling the hose, the men on the even num-
bered sections laying it forward across the track, and those on
the odd numbers passing through the sheds and laying the
hose from the back to meet the men on the opposite side of the
section. Each party of three continued laying the hose until
two-thirds of it had been connected, then one of each party
went back to turn on the water while his companions completed
laying the hose, similar parties from each side of the field
meeting in the center. Then at a signal the man who had gone
tack turned on the water and returned to assist in handling the
hose at the center of the field. At the end of each line of hose
one man handled the distributor, which is quite the opposite
kind of contrivance from a fire nozzle, consisting of a sort of
broad-wheeled push cart, into which the hose discharged
against a board designed to spread the stream and from which
the water flows quietly in a copious stream over a board that
runs close to the ground. To begin operations the two distri-
butors from the opposite sides of the field are placed side by
side at the farthest side of their 300 foot section. When, all
being ready, the signal is given to the man at the plug to turn
on the water, in less than a minute it conies rushing through
the hose under the pressure of 50 feet head more or less and
begins to pour out of the distributors. Then the men handling
the distributors slowly back side by side across the section
while the water overflows the land to the depth of an inch or
more, pouring off on either side over the thirsty earth which
rapidly absorbs it. On reaching the near side of the section
where the earth is wet from the next line of hose, the distri-
butors are turned, and again backed across a few feet nearer

68 Perfecting the Earth.

the pipe line from which the water comes than their first path
across the section. This they repeat again and again, uncoup-
ling the sections of hose and leaving them on the ground as
they reach the couplings. They leave the earth behind them,
on this occasion, saturated with water enough to have covered
it to the depth of two or three inches, for this first full drink the
thirsty earth has had for unnumbered ages needs to be a great
one, hence two days were consumed in watering the sections to
the edges of the field. And no sooner was this accomplished
than the hose was recoupled and the task repeated. This time,
however, the sections were covered in one day, and the hose
was coiled on its truck and carried along toward the power
sheds as fast as it was discarded. It was now the 18th day of
September, and every alternate section of the hundred and odd
square miles of land was ready for the plow.

The hose was now shifted to the opposite sides of the
power sheds and the remaining sections were irrigated in the
same manner as the first had been. This method of irrigation
was adopted for the first utilization of the land as best adapted
to apply the water, in such quantity as might be desired, evenly
to a large body of land not yet prepared for the method chosen
for permanent use. Afterward the land was fitted at leisure for
subsurface irrigation from pipes of porous tile laid in the sub-
soil, and, this arrangement once perfected, the land can be
watered to exactly the degree desired without a man or a wheel
going over its surface, v/hile that surface remains loose and
porous as when fresh from the plow.

On the fields thus made ready the wire cables were now
connected over pulleys on the opposite sides of the field and
the gang plows attached, one for every half mile along the
power shafts. Better to distribute the strain, the power was
applied at both sides of the field and the plow started, turning

Water, Steam, and Electric Power. 69

a belt of earth behind it eight feet six inches wide. The first
time across the plow moved at the quiet rate of three miles per
hour, taking ten minutes to cross the field, then the plow was
reversed to throw the furrows in the same direction as the
preceding and the cable was speeded up to six miles per hour,
carrying the plow across the field in five minutes. At this rate
of motion the earth flew from the mould boards of the plow as
water flies from the bows of a rapidly moving steamer, pulver-
izing it completely and spreading it perfectly level, thus making
a far better seed bed than it would have been possible to pro-
duce with plows and harrows moved by horses. No harrowing
was needed. Each plow turned the earth at the rate of six
acres per hour. After the plows had gained an hour's start the
seed drills were started after them covering twice as much
ground at a trip, but moving only half as fast as the plows, and
five days after the plows were started the alternate sections first
entered upon were sown with wheat throughout their entire
extent.

Meanwhile the other sections had been watered and were
ready for the plow. Shifting the machinery to the opposite
sides of the power sheds, these alternate sections were plowed
and sown in like manner, the whole being completed before the
first day of October ; and never before, since the mountains
round about had been carved out of the earth, had their arid
foot plains smiled with such verdure as covered them two
weeks later. But the subsoil and the rocks were thirsty, and,
that the growth of the young plants might not be checked
until the snows of winter should cover them, the fields of wheat
were gently irrigated again during the last week of October.

70 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER VI.

Southern California was extremely arid. Including its
mountains, plateaus, and valleys, in its natural state not enough
water fell on it to support life on more than one-tenth of its
surface. At this time, 1914, that water had for thirty years and
more been used with the utmost economy. The streams which
in the rainy season flowed down from the mountains had been
dammed and their waters collected to give life to the parched
earth through the long dry season ; but, do what you will, more
water can not be collected in a country, nor pumped out of it,
than falls on its surface, nor so ' much. Artesian wells had
been sunk where ever water could be reached by them, and
their outflow was used to irrigate small orange groves and vine-
yards, all of which lay between the San Bernardino range and
the sea, but all the irrigated lands of the region taken together
amounted to but a few oases in the desert. North and east of
the San Bernardino range, to the Nevada State line and the
Colorado river, spread the great Mohave desert, 120 miles and
more toward the north, and 100 miles to the eastward, too dry
for any green thing to grow there, not even a cactus except in
favored spots. Southern California for 300 miles measured
parallel to the ocean, and 200 miles wide, as a whole remained
a desert. In the heart of this region, the culminating height
of the whole country, the great San Bernardino range towers
to a height of 12,500 feet. Separated from this by an arid
plain from ten to twenty miles wide, are the San Jacinto
mountains, a rugged and irregular group constituting the
southern part of the coast range, and covering the greater
part of the country north of the Mexican boundary between

72

Perfecting the Earth.

The California Division. 73

the San Bernardino range and the ocean. This group reaches
the respectable altitude of 8,000 feet. To the west and north-
west of this mountain group lies the valley of the Santa Mar-
garita river, averaging about twelve miles wide and extend-
ing directly up from the coast to the foot of a slope leading
directly up to the highest part of the San Bernardino range.
This Santa Margarita river, like all other streams in this region,
flowed during the rainy season but at other times was a dry bed
only. It takes its rise in the San Jacinto mountains, bearing
the name in the upper part of its course of the San Jacinto
river, and flowing for the first thirty-five miles in a nearly
straight line northwest. Here it turns a right angle and flows
a little more than twenty miles southwest, along the course of
the valley above described, taking the name of Santa Margarita
at this elbow. At the point reached in this twenty miles of
southwestward course, the Santa Margarita again turns a
right angle toward the southeast, flowing fifteen miles in that
direction to the foot of the San Jacinto mountains again, and
then turning once more toward the southwest in a direct course
of twenty-three miles it reaches the sea.

The upper three reaches of this river bed, as will be seen,
bound three sides of a rectangle, the greater part of which is
occupied by a plateau lying above the height of 2,000 feet,
which constitutes a sort of buttress on the northwest flank of
the San Jacinto mountains.

The first measure taken in this region, except the topo-
graphical survey, had been to extinguish, under the law of
eminent domain, all private titles in the San Jacinto mountains
above the contour line of 2,000 feet, and also throughout a
broad tract along the Santa Margarita valley from the Pacific
coast up to the heights of the San Bernardino range and in the
territory intervening between this belt and the mountain tract

74 Perfecting the Earth.

of San Jacinto. To this region, in the early spring of 1914,
that portion of the army not needed for the operations about
Fort Goodwill had been taken, numbering about 120,000 men.

The first work to which they were set was to construct a
system of self-filtering reservoirs in every ravine and valley
throughout the San Jacinto group, of such capacity as, accord-
ing to previous observations, the rainy season might be
expected to fill.

In this work, distributed in such manner as they could be
used to best advantage, about 80,000 men were employed, some
in excavating and preparing beds for the reservoirs, some in
quarrying stone with which to build them, some in preparing
lime and cement for use in their construction, some in con-
structing tramways and inclined plane elevators, and some in
building the works proper. The filtering arrangement consists
of stone culverts or tunnels laid in the bottom of each ravine
above the reservoirs which they were to feed. These were
built with small openings everywhere in their tops and sides.
Over these tunnels the ravines were filled to the depth of
several feet with loose broken stone and gravel, such material
as constitutes the debris which, during heavy rains, washes
down the sides of mountains until often the torrent which at
such times pours down the ravines consists as much of stones
and gravel as of water. Such debris forms the beds of all dry
stream channels which in semi-arid and mountainous regions
form the natural roadways. This loose material was retained
in place in steep ravines and valleys by walls of solid masonry
based on the bedrock and built across the ravines wherever
needed, of sufficient height and strength to prevent the
danger of landslides down their course. Over the foot of each
tunnel the massive upper wall of a reservoir was built with the
tunnel opening through it. These reservoirs were built of cut

The California Division. 75

stone laid in cement, and carried to such a height as to be
above the reach of overflow in any possible floods, overflow
channels being constructed around the sides of the reservoirs,
of course. Many of these reservoirs, where the bed of the
ravine was too steep to admit of sufficient capacity in a single
basin, were compound, consisting of a series of such basins,
the water from the upper one flowing through a pipe into the
one next below, and so on through the series.

From this San Jacinto mountain area above the 2,000 feet
contour line all cattle, sheep, and other herbivorous and brows-
ing animals were rigidly excluded, and every precaution was
taken to guard against the starting of fires in the dry herbage
which accumulated. In this manner the growth of all trees
and shrubs was protected and the mountains, better clothed
with vegetation, retained more of the moisture that fell on them
and therefore became cooler and a better condenser of atmos-
pheric moisture, and, within a very few years, the annual
precipitation upon them was greatly increased.

About the border of the plateau previously mentioned as
buttressing the San Jacinto mountains on their northwestern
face, and lying in the rectangle outlined by the three upper
reaches of the Santa Margarita river, starting a little above the
2,000 feet contour line at the southern angle of that plateau
and following that line closely, allowing a descent of about six
feet in a mile toward the north and northwest, a great subway
was begun this season, with a sewer in its bottom, similar to
that about the Park Avenue border of Fort Goodwill. This
was the first work showing that this plateau was chosen to be
the site of a city, it being so located and constructed that it
would naturally receive the outfall of any and all such conduits
that might afterward be built on the plateau above. This con-
duit, though at the bottom of a spacious subway through nearly

76 Perfecting the Earth.

its whole extent, was in several places carried over ravines on
stone arches. It was built in a leisurely manner, under the
labor of a small force, and it was three years before it was com-
pleted. It terminated finally in the ravine of the San Jacinto
river north of the plateau, where a small receiving basin and a
pumping station were afterward constructed to receive its
outflow and lift it on the way to a more distant destination.

Another work begun in the San Jacinto mountains very
.early this first season was the quarries. Through the greater
part of the western and northern portion of this group the
rocks of which these mountains consist lie in horizontal strata,
and from about the 3,000 feet level, where the plateau set
apart for a town-site breaks into the steeper heights of the
mountains above, this rock consists of an excellent, hard,
nearly white quartz standstone, in a formation nearly three
hundred feet thick. The individual strata of this vary from
one foot to ten feet in thickness. This rock, like many sand-
stones, hardens by exposure to the atmosphere, and for quarry-
ing and building purposes nothing could be finer.

In the face of this deposit, on the same level, at intervals
of about a mile, avoiding points where the line of the work
would intersect ravines, six quarry faces were opened. But
the work was not conducted as quarrymen usually work, in an
open pit, regardless of the unsightly gash which they make in
the earth. The base selected for operations was a stratum just
above the 3,000 feet contour line. The quarrymen began work
in the stratum which reached the height of sixty feet above
this base. From this stratum they removed a section across
a space of twenty feet above a center of the part chosen for
excavation. The next stratum underlying this was removed
to a width extending as much beyond this first on either side
as equaled the thickness of the stratum. Below this, the next

The California Division. 77

stratum was removed in the ' same manner, still extending
beyond the portion removed from the stratum above to a
width equal to its own thickness, and so on, until the quarry
face widened from twenty feet in width at the top to sixty feet
at the level twenty feet below. From this point with vertical
walls through the remaining forty feet of depth to the floor
plane this width of sixty feet was maintained, so that each
working face had the dimensions of sixty feet both in height
and width. This form and size was maintained continuously,
the upper strata being excavated in advance so that each face
was kept in the form of a stairway. Each of these quarry faces
was pushed forward like a tunnel directly eastward into the
body of the mountain, as many men being employed on each
face as could, with their 'compressed air drills and other
machinery, work to advantage.

In each of these openings, as soon as the mountain had
been penetrated far enough so that a cross tunnel would not
approach the surface, other working faces exactly similar to the
first were started toward the right and left, and a similar gallery
was pushed in each direction at right angles to the first. This
afforded space for three times the force employed at first, and
allowed an output of three times as much stone in a given time.
Beyond the first cross gallery, at distances of 120 feet, so that
each sixty feet wide working face alternated with sixty feet of
the unbroken rock, other cross galleries were opened, and on
each of the cross galleries, as fast as they were extended to a
sufficient distance from the original tunnel, other galleries of
the same size and spacing were opened parallel with the first.
Tramways for removing the stone and for advancing portable
cranes for handling it were, of course, pushed forward in each
gallery as fast as the working face advanced, and the working

78 Perfecting the Earth.

space available soon far exceeded what could have been utilized
on the open quarry plan.

With the working space available, the working force
employed in these quarries was increased, until before the end
of the year, some 24,000 men, in three shifts of 8,000 each,
working eight hours at a shift, were working day and night in
excavating and removing the stone, and the excavated space
was growing into a system of catacombs of grand proportions.

Among things demanding attention in this vicinity during
this first summer of the industrial military service, it was neces-
sary to provide camps and barracks suitable for the accommo-
dation of the main body of the army which was to be brought
here for the ensuing winter. The work required to effect this,
however, was little compared with what would have been nec-
essary to the same end in Fort Goodwill.

Several villages existed in the tract appropriated to gov-
ernment uses and these, with the addition of structures suitable
for the general utilities of the army, such as the cooking and
laundry departments, were with slight alterations made avail-
able for housing the army.

The new water works system, in the San Jacinto moun-
tains, was ready to yield a more than ample supply of that
indispensable fluid, and before the advent of the main body of
the army in November everything was in readiness for its
comfort.

The forces in this division of the army during this season,
who were not employed in the works already described, nor on
the force engaged in pushing the railway across the desert to
meet that coming down from Fort Goodwill, were employed
in grading and excavating on {he belt of territory appropriated
by the government in the valley of the Santa Margarita. Here
with the most powerful machinery they were leveling ridges

The California Division. 79

and filling valleys. Great ridges and crests of rock were
blasted off and lowered to the depth of hundreds of feet, and
their substance thrown into ravines and hollows, but a peculiar
feature of all this work was that, at intervals of a quarter of a
mile apart, strips of excavations longitudinal to the belt of
territory covered by these works were made down to the bed
rock and left open, unless, where the grading had been done
on such strips, the denuded rock reached the surface.

These denuded places were shaped into beds suitable to
receive the bases of towers or piers of cut stone, and to the
margins of these excavations the stone was taken from the
.-great quarries in the San Jacinto mountains. To extending
this grading, and building the piers in these excavations, the
main body of the army was applied as the men arrived in
November, and this work was pushed unremittingly all winter.
Spread as it was over many square miles of territory, while it
was evidently in strict accordance with a carefully prepared
plan, what the ultimate purpose of it .all might be was to the
world an unfathomable mystery; so far as the general public
'Could understand, it appeared to be without purpose. This
work served, however, as a sort of reservoir of employment
that could receive additions of force without limit and from
which forces might be withdrawn for other purposes to any
•extent without damage to what had been already done and
without crippling the efficiency of those that remained.

The hours of duty and the mode of life of the men
•employed, here as elsewhere, in all branches of the service, were
•arranged with due regard to the comfort and improvement of
the men employed. Eight hours was the limit of the day's
work, and during the greater part of the time the hour of
instruction in the form of lectures, which every man was
required to attend, was taken out of this eight hours of daily
duty, though it was impressed on the men that this was a favor
to be withdrawn whenever the good of the service required the
full eight hours of constructive labor.

Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER VII.

At Fort Goodwill, during the winter of 1914-1915, the
iron works and machine shops, together with all other fixed
industries that could be carried on under cover, were operated
continuously but deliberately. The forces retained in the great
buildings that had been erected during the summer were
selected especially with reference to manning these works, but
as the pressure of the season's hurry relaxed the stress put on
the education and training of the force was increased. The
required attendance on lectures was increased from one hour
to two per day, and the works were conducted as if their
primary purpose had been to serve as a manual and technical
training school. Nevertheless, before spring an immense
stock of water pipe, and steel shafting, wire cables, machinery,
dynamos, and all the special devices required in the new system
of agriculture and irrigation had been accumulated, and of
structural steel for bridges, every piece made and labeled for
its place in the bridge for which it was designed, there was also
a great stock. With the return of spring the forces were
brought back from the San Jacinto district as fast as required
to push the work forward here. One of the first enterprises of
the season was to build a great steel bridge across the Green
river canyon at a narrow point about twelve miles east and four
miles south of Fort Goodwill center. An electric railway was
carried across this bridge and across the plain to the foot of the
mountains bounding it on the east, and thence southward to
the vicinity of the White river canyon where, turning eastward,
it continued up this canyon to a point some eighteen miles
beyond the Colorado line.

The Second Period— 1915. 81

At this point, work was begun to build a great dam of cut
stone, designed to raise the water of White river 160 feet above
its natural level and form a lake above the dam some twenty-
four miles long and from three to ten miles wide. The bed of
the river at this point is 5,465 feet above the sea; the canyon
there is narrow and the rock hard and solid, making a favorable
point for the construction of such a dam. This, when com-
pleted, would raise the water to the level of 5,626 feet. From
this reservoir, a canal was carried along the foot of the heights
down the White River valley and thence northward, with a
fall of only two feet per mile, until it reached the Green River
canyon at a point near its crossing with the Colorado line.
This canal makes the plain lying east of the Green River can-
yon and north of the W7hite river all available for irrigation;
the work required in the construction of the dam, however, was
great, and after its completion, if it were hurried to completion
in time for the fall sowing, the river would be unable to fill the
reservoir in time to make its waters available, hence work was
so timed on this as to have it ready for the autumn of the fol-
lowing year.

For the present year it was not intended to sow the fields
on which a crop of wheat was now growing, to wheat a second
time, and they were needed for another purpose, but the waters
of the Uintah and its tributaries were amply sufficient to irri-
gate 150 square miles of new land in addition to the fields
already supplied, and west of the north branch and the main
canyon of the Uintah twice that extent of land awaited it. To
utilize this, the main canal constructed the preceding year
was now continued westward from the storage reservoir along
the contour line that would give it a fall not exceeding one and
one-half feet per mile, until it crossed the west fork of the
Uintah, thence curving southward it crossed Strawberry Creek,

82 Perfecting the Earth.

a tributary entering the west fork of the Uintah from the south-
west, which was, of course, intercepted and used as a feeder for
the canal. From this crossing the contour of the land now
made it necessary to carry the canal back in a sweeping curve
toward the east, southeast, and south, but before reaching the
border of the Green River canyon again more than ten town-
ships, or 360 square miles of land lying below the level of the
canal had been included in its sweep and made available for
agriculture.

For the present season's uses about twenty square miles of
land between the high level canal from the west fork reservoir
and the main canal were prepared for plowing in early June, to
be planted in potatoes. One hundred and fifty square miles
within the bend of the main canal up the valley of the west fork
were put in preparation to be sown with wheat. The methods
of applying the water to the land, and of moving plows and
other machinery by power, were the same as were employed
the previous year.

Up the main canal parallel with the canyon of the Green
river, northeast from Fort Goodwill, a small force of men with
excavating machinery were engaged in extending its channel.
In this part of the work there was no hurry, but the electric
railway that paralleled the canal was pushed on to the Colorado
line, about thirty miles northeast of Fort Goodwill. Here
quarrymen and stonecutters, with all the apparatus used in
their work, were sent, and a camp was established, and quarries
were opened, and the bed rock across the canyon was laid bare
and carved into a mortise to receive the foot of a great dam,
and the work was begun to build here the greatest dam that
had ever been built anywhere up to date. The bed of the river
here, at the bottom of the canyon, is close to the 5,000 feet
level above the sea.. The level of the water in the canal, 5,462

The Second Period — 79/5. 83

feet at Fort Goodwill, would here need to be about 5,500 feet,
and it was the purpose of this dam to lift it to that height.
The bed rock of the canyon here is hard and firm, and the total
width to be dammed about a mile and a quarter. The work was
to be done in a manner to stand forever, and no pains were
spared to make it perfect. The height of the dam above the
bed of the river was to be 520 feet, the slope of its front 50
degrees. The breadth of masonry from front to back at the
bottom, as it lay in the mortise cut in rock, was 430 feet; the
rear wall of the stone work was to be vertical and to be filled
in behind with a filling of earth, and the level top of the dam to
be 20 feet broad. The dam itself sweeps across the canyon
in a circular curve on a radius equal to the length of the dam,
with its convexity up stream. The slant height of the face of
this dam from the channel of the river at its foot to the roadway
across its top is nearly 700 feet.

This dam was a work which, as will be seen, would have
swallowed the great pyramid of Egypt many times over, and,
while it was pressed steadily forward with all the great
resources of modern engineering, it was not necessary, neither
was it desired, to hasten it unduely, and it was expected to take
three or four years in building.

While these works were in progress on the Green river
above Fort Goodwill, others were going on below, with the
purpose, ultimately, to carry the collected waters to the arid
plains farther south where they could be utilized. The land
lying south of the return sweep of the main canal from the
valley of the west fork of the Uintah toward the Green River
canyon rises into a mountain mass reaching above the height
of 9,000 feet, filling the space from the Wahsatch mountains
clear up to the Green River canyon, while on the opposite side
of that canyon a similar elevation comes down from the moun-

84 Perfecting the Earth.

tain heights of Colorado in the east to meet it. Between these
mountain heights the Green River canyon forms a mere gap.
The canyon walls through this region, now known as the Green
River highlands, are rugged in the extreme. For long dis-
tances they are nearly vertical, often overhanging, broken by
projecting promontories and yawning gulfs, with a height
varying from 800 to 1,500 feet, while the level of the canal at its
entrance of the highlands is 720 feet above the bottom of the
canyon, and at its emergence, and point of departure from the
canyon, thirty-five miles further down the river, its height is
972 feet above the bed of the river in the canyon. Through
this region it was necessary to carry the canal. Wherever the
canyon walls sank low in the level of the canal it was, of course,
built upon the surface, but for nearly thirty miles out of this
thirty-five it was necessary to carry it through a tunnel.
This tunnel follows the course of the canyon as nearly as
proper curves will permit. It was sought to carry the line of
the canal near enough to the canyon walls so that openings
could be cut through from the tunnel at frequent intervals to
permit the rock removed to be cast out through them into the
canyon below. Often, however, the tunneled canal departs
widely from the canyon walls to pass some sharp angle, and
often it emerges to cross some yawning gulf on an aqueduct
built on trussed arches of steel.

This tunneled canal was made to carry a width of sixty
feet, and a depth of ten to fourteen feet, with a fall of two feet
per mile, the channel being cased in with masonry laid in
cement. This canal would not be needed for use until the
great dam on the upper Green river was completed, but a
sufficient force was put at work on it to keep it in progress
night and day from three working faces, the first being at the
entrance just south of the Pleasant Valley brook crossing,

The Second Period —

85

The Second Period— 1915. 87

thirty-six miles south of Fort Goodwill, and the other two one
on each side of a valley five miles further south. This work
was pushed forward continuously by three shifts of men
working eight hours each on each face summer and winter.
The portion which remained unfinished when, three years later,
the great dam drew near completion, was hurried by the open-
ing of a dozen new working faces from the canyon wall and
from surface shafts, besides that at the point of exit of the
tunnel high above the canyon of Prices river where that stream
flows along the south side of the mountain into the Green river
from the west. From this point the canal was carried westward
along the mountain side twenty-four miles, to conduct the
water into a great reservoir formed by damming the valley of
Prices river at that point, but this belongs to a later stage of
our narrative.

Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER VIII.

Preparatory for the needs of the season of 1915 several
new industries were started in the industrial district of Fort
Goodwill which, together with those established during the pre-
ceding- season, were now organized to be operated by the citizen
tenantry, the status on which the coal and iron miners had
been enlisted from the beginning.

Within two months after the opening of the government
coal mines a surplus of coal was produced, beyond the needs
of the government industries. This surplus coal served as a
basis for all needed exchanges. Among the new industries
established at Fort Goodwill was a large woolen mill; with a
portion of the surplus coal, or money for which it was sold,
wool was purchased in California and Oregon, out of which
was manufactured in this mill every class of woolen goods
needed for use in the army, and also for all incidental needs of
the citizen tenantry; a surplus of such woolen goods as were
likely to be called for from the outside world was also produced
to be exchanged for other things needed, but no effort was ever
made, by advertisement or otherwise, to seek a market for
them. All these goods were of a quality far superior to any
that had ever been furnished to the army through contractors,
and the money expense was nothing at all. The machinery
was some of it made in Fort Goodwill, some of it was pur-
chased with coal extracted from the government mines, the
operatives themselves were government employees, and the
force employed, considering the output, and the number of
consumers supplied, was exceedingly small. 'Machinery did
most of the work. A clothing factory was also equipped in
which the products of this mill were worked up with other

Progress in Fort Goodwill. 89

cloths into garments and other forms needed. Similiarly, pro-
vision was made for the manufacture of supplies for all other
general needs which it was possible to supply with home man-
ufactured products. Most of these industries were operated
with two shifts of eight hours each ; such industries, how-
ever, as operating the blast furnaces and the Bessemer con-
verters in the iron works, in which it was necessary that work
should be continuous, and in which work was especially labori-
ous, were operated in four shifts of six hours each, the six
hours of labor in these being held equivalent to the eight hours
in the other industries.

The commissary department in Fort Goodwill took on the
character of an enormous department store furnishing abso-
lutely everything that might be called for, while the productive
industries aimed, as far as possible, to supply every thing
required in stock. This description, however, anticipates our
narrative by a few months, in that it describes the condition
prevailing after a large part of the population consisted of
citizen tenantry among whom were women and children in
normal proportion, but the early months of 1915 were occu-
pied in bringing the commissary department into the condition
described.

With the opening of the season of 1915 all payments in the
Fort Goodwill division of the army as well as to the citizen
tenantry employed were made in time credits payable in goods.
These time credits were for hours and minutes, monetary units
not being mentioned on them ; they were, however, convertible
into money at the option of their holders, money being treated
as an article of merchandise in the transaction. The demand
for money in exchange for time credits was discouraged, how-
ever, by the fact that more goods of any kind could be
purchased with the time credits direct than with the money that

90 Perfecting the Earth.

could be obtained for them. The money for which time credits
could be exchanged exceeded the wages given anywhere in the
competitive world for the time covered, so that there was no
ground for complaint regarding the sum paid, but yet it was
possible, while rating goods at the lowest retail cash prices
prevailing anywhere, to make the price of goods in time credits
so low that if one turned the time credits into money, and then
with the money bought goods at these lowest retail cash prices,
there would always be a considerable loss to the purchaser
from what could have been bought with the credits direct. In
this way it was not difficult to wean both the army and the
people from the money habit of mind.

The time credit allowed the citizen tenant employee was
two hours per day for eight hours' service, the other six hours
being exacted of him as a tax for house rent, board, public
services, and other benefits which he received. In those
arduous occupations in which six hours constituted the day's
work the time credit was still two hours, and the enlisted men
in the army received the same credit. In fixing the time value
of goods in store all classes of goods were averaged together,
those purchased in the markets and those imported from
abroad being held equivalent to those exchanged for them,
plus the time expended in making the exchanges, and were
rated at the value in time of the average time expended in pro-
ducing or procuring them. When any improvement in method
or machinery or resources enabled any kind of goods in use
to be produced at a smaller expenditure of time in labor, the
time value of every kind of goods in stock was reduced in the
same degree by the saving. The purpose of this arrangement
was, as rapidly as possible, to adjust matters so that one-fourth
of the force employed should provide the consumable wealth
needed by the whole, leaving three-fourths for employment on

Progress in Fort Goodwill. 91

nonproductive improvements ; and so effective were the
methods and machinery employed that this one-fourth seemed
likely to support the whole in elegance and luxury.

This policy, though eminently satisfactory to the army and
the citizen tenantry employed, was far otherwise to the business
men of the competitive world, and especially so to the tribe of
contractors who had been accustomed to enrich themselves
through contracts for providing the army with various needed
supplies. They protested, of course, but as the purpose of the
nation in adopting this course was primarily to make the army
self-supporting, and these gentry were never able to suggest
any method by which the army could possibly become self-
supporting while the privilege was reserved to them of supply-
ing its needs on contracts to their own enrichment, their
protests were unavailng ; and when the administration assured
them that the government would no longer be conducted for
the purpose of enabling them to extract wealth out of the
American people they soon gave the matter up and either
settled down to live on their former accumulations, or sought
other prey ; generally the latter, so long as any fields of exploi-
tation remained open to them.

On one occasion a committee of business men sought an
interview with General Goodwill to protest against the policy
on which military matters were being conducted, on the
ground, first : of the great expense of such operations as those
in which the army was engaged ; and, second, of the interfer-
ence of these operations with the business that formerly grew
out of the necessity of providing for the needs of the army.

To these gentlemen, after they had stated their proposition
and made their argument, the General replied as follows:
"Gentlemen : Yon are in error. It is true, great works have

92 Perfecting the Earth.

already been done by the army ; but they have not, as you seem
to imagine, been attended with great expense. On the con-
trary, the accounts in the war department will show you that
the expense of maintaining the army during its first year of
industry, with its peace equipment, has been less than that
incurred during its last year of idleness with its war equipment,
though during that time we have had but one source of income
from which we could in part meet the expense of our multiplied
needs, and that one source of income we have had but little
more than half the year. That source of income has been
our coal output. Before this second year of industry is past
we will probably be able to produce our own food and clothing
and machinery. There are far greater works to be undertaken
than any in which we have yet engaged, but they will not cost
the American people one cent. It would be very poor general-
ship that could not, with modern machinery, on a fertile soil,
with half the force support the whole ; we shall do better than
that, and we shall do it from a desert where, by the methods
and principles you advocate, men could not live. Labor pro-
duces everything, pays everything, and costs nothing but its
own product, a very small part of its own product according to
fact and custom, though in strict justice it is entitled to the
whole.

"From capitalists we have cut loose; we will no longer
pay tribute to them nor be limited by them. We have no
further use for them nor their money. The army will soon
be wholly self-supporting, and its operations will be so ordered
that it will be well supported, live a wholesome life, enjoy
abundance of all things needed, and all under pleasant con-
ditions. It will provide all these for itself and no one will have
a right to complain.

Progress in Fort Goodwill.

93

"Evidently, any one who finds his opportunities for his
own enrichment cut off by the fact that a great body of men,
formerly nonproductive and costly, has now become self-
supporting ; evidently, whether he has realized the fact or not,
such a man has himself been a parasite on the people, enriching
himself at the public expense over the shoulders of other and
lesser parasites. Gentlemen, the present policy in regard to
the army is right, it is wholesome, it tends to the public good.
The American people are not blind to its benefits and they
approve of it ; and to this policy the nation will adhere."

This address was published in all the newspapers, and,
becoming known in the army, it kindled among the soldiers a
wave of enthusiasm for their general that exceeded anything
hitherto experienced. The men began to take an interest and
a pleasure in their work unfelt before. Their imagination kept
before them pictures ever varying and ever bright of the earth
blooming forth in new beauty perfected under their hands, and
they experienced a pleasure that can come from nothing else
than the consciousness of creating in the universe something
which the soul can contemplate and pronounce it good. "Who
wouldn't," they were wont to ask, "prefer a world that he could
fix up to suit him rather than one that he must take ready made
and leave as he finds it?"

94 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER IX.

We must again notice the progress made in building the
city of Fort Goodwill. At our last survey of the scene the
great edifices ultimately designed for nobler uses, but for the
present serving as barracks for the men who remained in Fort
Goodwill to operate its industries through the winter, were
standing half a mile apart, each one alone, while the recently
turned up earth over the subways gave a strangely unfinished
and raw appearance to the scene.

Through the winter the architects who had designed the
edifices erected in 1914 had been busy designing and perfecting
tasteful plans for small houses, in each of which the usual
kitchen and laundry arrangements were omitted, while bath
rooms, gas grates, and heaters, and electric lighting appliances
were freely provided in all. The corps of architects working
in unison had devised a hundred and more details of beauty
for use in building these houses, each of which could be manu-
factured by wholesale, and which could be combined in innum-
erable forms to delight the eye, and serve the uses of the people
just as the letters of the alphabet can be combined into all the
words in the dictionary, and express all thoughts conceivable
in the minds of mankind.

A few miles up the Green River canyon a great deposit of
beautiful gypsum had been found, and of this plaster of paris
was made which was utilized in the manufacture of many of
these artistic details. Others were made of terracotta and tile
manufactured in a department of the brick works. Hollow
brick, grooved on the outside to receive and retain a stucco
finish, entered very largely into the structure of these houses,

Progress in Fort Goodwill. 95

furnishing not only air spaces to preserve equality of tempera-
ture and exclude dampness, but also providing for the con-
struction of ventilating flues in the walls and conduits for the
transmission of gas and water pipes and electrical conductors,
out of sight and out of the way.

Wood was scarce in this region. If the floors, doors and
window cases and sash for the houses to be built here during
the season had been of lumber, Utah could have been stripped
of her last tree, and then the quantity of lumber which it would
have been necessary to purchase from the competitive world
would have made the work of building the city very costly.
But a process had been perfected of making out of sage brush
and other desert growths a sort of wood pulp or papier mache
with ideal qualities of nonconductivity to heat, elasticity and
durability for flooring, to cover tile supported on iron, and also
for casings and doors. In anticipation of this use all the sage
brush and other plants which had been removed from the agri-
cultural lands of the preceding year, together with that
gathered from the land now being cleared, had been saved.
This served as material on which a pulp mill in the industrial
district was kept running, and the product, compressed and
roasted, combined with gums and resins, gypsum, lime, or clay,
was of more service in building Fort Goodwill than forests and
saw-mills would have been.

None of the small homes to be built this season were to be
more than two stories high ; none of them were ugly, and there
was variety enough in form and plan to avoid any suggestion
of monotony or sameness anywhere. The work undertaken this
season was to build houses on the residence allotments on each
outside plat of the Fort Goodwill blocks. By referring to the
plan of the model block, on page 54, this arrangement will be

96 Perfecting the Earth.

understood. This program called for the construction in each
complete block of 32x2x4—256 such houses. As the blocks
were varied to adapt them to local conditions, the intersections
of the avenues and other variations all tending to diminish the
number of residences from the full normal complement, they
averaged a little more than 200 houses to the block. Work
was first begun on the outside rows of houses facing the front
streets, but in order to build and complete any house on the
plan here followed it was necessary that the sewer and the
subway carrying the pipes and conductors supplying the house
with water, gas and electricity should be completed also.

On the front streets running north and south, it will be
remembered, these subways had been completed the previous
year, but those on the east and west front streets, and the
secondary subways on the first streets, together with the
service ways to the individual houses remained to be con-
structed. In these subways gas and water pipes and electrical
conductors for lighting and telephone service were laid to
connect with each house as soon as the subway was completed
and work begun on the foundation of the house. The walls
and roofs of these first rows of houses facing the front streets
were mostly completed and the structures turned over to the
finishers by the first of July when the work on the second rows
facing the first streets was taken up.

Work was now begun also in preparation for paving the
main avenues and the front streets. To this end, the grading
was perfected and curb stones were placed to make a roadway
on each of the front streets fifty feet wide, leaving twenty-five
feet for lawns and shade trees. The roadways were paved with
a thick macadam pavement heavily rolled and the surface
finished with a dressing of cement, or on some of the streets of
asphaltum, making a pavement smooth, hard and strong.

Progress in Fort Goodwill. 97

This pavement was, during this season, laid on all the main
avenues of the primary system as well as on the front streets
separating the blocks, and on Western avenue it was carried
to the storage reservoir on the north fork of the Uintah, a
distance of about nine miles, while in the opposite direction on
Eastern avenue it was continued to the angle on the way and
thence to the bridge over the Green River canyon. On the
southeast, South Meridian, and Southwestern avenues, the
pavement terminated at the main canal, and on the avenues in
the opposite directions at the city limits lying at the foot of the
mountain slopes.

When the pavements were constructed, the railway tracks,
which had hitherto served for the transportation of men and
materials, were removed. WTith rubber tired automobile cars
capable of making thirty miles per hour, if desired, no railway
tracks in the streets were needed.

At this stage of progress another proclamation was pub-
lished throughout the United States as follows : "On and after
the first day of September next, citizen tenantry will be
accepted to people the city of Fort Goodwill, Utah, and other
places that may from time to time be fitted for occupation,
under the following conditions : First — Any applicant for
enrollment in the citizen tenantry of the United States must
give evidence of ability to perform some useful part in the
public industries, and pass examination in regard to his fitness
therefor. Second — He must be a married man, or have minor
children requiring him to be an householder. Third — His
age must not exceed forty years.

"Positions under this order will be given, first: to any one
in the military ranks who can meet the requirements ; and, after
such are provided for, to others who may best fill some require-
ment of the public service.

98 Perfecting the Earth.

"Examinations of applicants will be held weekly on Tues-
days in the government buildings in all the principal cities
throughout the United States. To each accepted citizen
tenant the Government will furnish transportation for himself
and family to his future residence, a good house for his home,
board for himself and his family, schooling for his children, and
educational lectures and instruction daily for himself and adult
members of his family, together with fuel, water, electric
lighting, telephone, and all manner of general services.

"Each adult man accepted under this order, will be
required to render service in such public industry as he is
qualified for, eight hours per day, or forty-eight hours per
week, of which services he will be taxed six hours per day, or
thirty-six hours per week, in payment for home, rent, board,
and public services rendered to him; for the other two hours
per day he will be paid an equivalent for the full product of that
two hours service. Each adult woman will be required to
work four hours per day, or twenty-four hours per week, in
some appropriate occupation to be provided for her, of which
three hours per day are to be charged to her in taxes for bene-
fits received, and for one hour per day of which she is to be
paid a full equivalent for its productive value.

"Each minor child, after the age of five years, will be
required to attend the public schools provided for its education.

"On reaching the age of fifty years each citizen tenant will
be retired from the public service on a pension sufficient to
provide for his maintenance as long as he may live.

"The citizen tenants will be tenants and employees of the
United States, but in all the rights and duties and privileges of
citizenship they will be in the same status of freedom as other
citizens.

Progress in Fort Goodwill. 99

"Provision will be made for transferring citizen tenants
from one location to another or from one industry to
another when they may desire such transfer, but desertion from
the service at any time will stop all the benefits of such service,
including the retiring pension after fifty years of age. Signed :
Theodore Goodwill, General commanding."

Preparatory to peopling the city on the plan outlined in
this proclamation, provisions were made for conducting a dairy
and livestock business on a scale sufficient to supply the needs
of a city of 175,000 to 200,000 inhabitants. The preparations
making for the next crop, including twenty square miles of
potatoes, on the high level irrigated district, have already been
recounted. The remainder of that high level was early in the
season put under water and power and sown to forage crops,
such as drilled corn, alfalfa and millet, while the wheat fields
sown last fall were all stocked with grass and clover early in the
spring. A dairy sufficient to supply the prospective needs of
the city was indispensible. Accordingly the government
agents were instructed to buy choice young milch cows in the
best dairying regions of the United States for shipment to Fort
Goodwill, as called for, until their number reached 20,000.
For their accommodation suitable barns and other arrange-
ments were built on the tract lying below the city level, in con-
tinuation of the industrial district, but north of the continuation
of Western avenue. This dairy establishment extended from
near the border of the storage reservoir nearly two miles east-
ward along the avenue toward the city. The initial structure
of this dairy establishment was a railway track, which was
brought up along the bank of the reservoir until it crossed the
line of the western avenue, and then curving eastward and
mounting a steel trestle to the height of a little more than ten

100 Perfecting the Earth.

feet it was continued as an elevated railway parallel with the
western avenue.

On either side of this elevated track at the distance of
30 feet from its center the cow barns were placed so that
they stood in pairs, with their ends toward the track exactly
opposite each other, and 60 feet apart. Two hundred of such
barns were constructed at this time, one hundred on each side

Section of Cow Barn Frame.

of the track, forming a street with the elevated railway down
its center. Each of these buildings was constructed on steel
frames modeled as in the diagram and placed four feet apart in
the building. The size of each of these buildings is, width 33
feet, length, 216 feet, height of lower story, 10 feet, height of
second story to plates, 12 feet. Each such building will accom-
modate in comfort 100 cows.

Between each of these buildings and the next similar build-
ing on the same side of the track, an open space of 42 feet was
left, making each barn and its corresponding yard occupy 75
feet along the track.

Progress in Fort Goodwill. 101

Through the center of each of these barns, on the second
floor, a railway track is laid, which extends on a trestle from
the end of the barn toward the elevated track in the street.
The height of the barns is carefully adjusted to that of the
elevated track so that these tracks in each pair of barns con-
nect with a turntable in that elevated track, and by this arrange-
ment a carload of fodder can be taken from the field and run
directly into the fodder loft of any one of these buildings with-
out unloading, an arrangement that will be appreciated when it
is remembered that on the Fort Goodwill farms all farm
wagons are railway cars.

The walls and roofs of these buildings are closed with a
special kind of the wood pulp board previously mentioned. For
this use it is made about one-third of an inch thick and satur-
ated as it is made with plaster of paris, forming a hard, white
board, very pleasant to the eye. For roofing, it is further treated
with a kind of paint, making it impervious to water. The side
walls of the lower stories are closed entirely with doors, each of
which is made in two equal sections, upper and lower, in such
a manner that the lower section can slide up over the upper,
and thus doubled, the whole may be swung on horizontal
hinges up against the ceiling of the cow floor. To make these
doors, the plaster of paris board is strengthened by iron bor-
ders, and in these borders ,all catches and fastenings are fixed.
The walls of the fodder lofts above are also made in two sec-
tions, of which the lower one is fixed, while the upper section
slides down over it or is raised and fastened in place, opening
or closing the wall as desired. The upper stories at the ends
are fitted with large sliding doors over the car tracks, and
below there are doors suitable for the passage of keepers and
apparatus, but excepting these doors, the end walls are closed
with plaster board fixed in place. The ground floor of these

102 Perfecting the Earth.

cow barns is made of paving brick laid in cement. It is
arranged with a cow walk five feet wide on each side, then a
bedding floor elevated six inches above the cow walk from
which it is separated by a bevel faced curb stone. Toward the
center from this bedding floor is the stanchion rail fifteen inches
high and the manger two feet wide ; within this, in the center of
the building, is the feeding alley, five feet wide, separated from
the mangers on either side by a rail and partition three feet
high. At the ends of the building and at intervals of forty feet,
that is between each group of ten cows on each side, and the
next group, are cross walks for the convenience of the keepers.
The upper floors of these buildings are of tile laid on iron, but
the center strip over the feeding alley, between the rails of the
car track, is left open excepting for the cross ties once in four
feet, formed by the girders of the frames of the building, and
for movable bridges at intervals for the convenience of keepers.

There is a vertical ladder from the feeding alley to the
fodder loft at each cross walk. These barns, above and below
are illuminated at night with incandescent electric lights, and
the fodder lofts above are fitted with machinery both for mov-
ing the cars and for quickly unloading them by electric power,
depositing the load wherever it may be desired.

To attend each building with its hundred cows is the duty
of only one man at a time. At 5 a. m. the first relief goes on
duty, feeds the cows and makes their morning toilet, at 7 he
bathes and dries their udders, and adjusts the pneumatic milk-
ing machine to fifty of them at a time, and milks them by means
of a pneumatic exhaust pump worked by electric power, which
he manipulates in such a manner as to produce the alternate
relaxation and tension needed.* This milks the cows to the

*Since this matter has been in manuscript, newspaper descriptions have been
published of a similar milking machine in actual use, but operated by hand
power and applied to two cows only, at a time.

Progress in Fort Goodwill. 103

perfect satisfaction both of the human beneficiaries and the
cows themselves. The first fifty cows being milked, the keeper
shifts the milking attachments with their tubes to the other
side of the feeding alley and repeats the operation. When the
milking is complete, he cleanses the pneumatic calf, as he calls
the milking apparatus, by blowing through the tubes first cold
water, then hot water and steam, from pipes provided for that
purpose in a room under the trestle at the end of the barn.
Then the cows are again fed. At 9 a. m. they are turned loose
in the exercising ranges for exercise and water. They might
be watered in the barns, which in the winter in severe weather
is done, but to guard the cows against the danger of injuring
their health by laziness the watering troughs are placed at a
distance of not less than half a mile back from the cow barns.
The cows having left the barn, the attendant cleans the cow
walk and the bedding floor, throwing all manure outside to dry.
At 12 m. a new supply of food is placed in the mangers, and
the cows are free to come back, which they do of their own
accord.

At 1 p. m. the second relief cornes on duty. He again
turns the cows out for exercise and water at 2 p. m. Then he
puts all dried manure, outside the barn, on the automatic cars
provided for that purpose and sends it to the fertilizer factory,
again cleans the cow walk and the bedding floor, readmits the
cows at 4 p. m. and feeds them a little at a time as they con-
sume what he gives them. At 7 p. m. he again milks the cows
and afterwards cleanses the milking apparatus as before. Then
again attending to the comfort of his charge, and supplying
them with food according to their appetites, he leaves them at
9 p. m. Through the eight hours from 9 p. m. to 5 a. m. one
watchman with a beat like a policeman through ten buildings
is sufficient for every contingency likely to arise.

104 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER X.

At right angles to the street of dairy barns at its end near-
est the city another line of stock barns and yards was afterwards
built on plans similar to those already described, but modified
to suit the special uses for which they were designed. The
elevated railway track curved at the end of the line of dairy
barns and continued along this street of barns also. These
barns served to accommodate other bovine stock than milch
cows during the winter when such cattle could not be put to
pasture, and here were kept 2,000 saddle horses also, for school
exercises, and for the use of couriers in the mountain wilds.

Behind the cow barns toward the north the land is laid
out in parallel strips 300 feet wide extending back from two to
three and one-half miles to where the mountain slopes became
too steep for their purpose ; or rather, since 20 feet was fenced
off from the border of each such strip to contain a water pipe
and a double row of forest trees, they were but 280 feet wide.
These are the exercising ranges for the cows. Into each such
strip four pairs of cow barns open, so that when they are turned
loose 800 cows occupy each such strip. At the distance of half
a mile back from the barns the drinking cups for the cows
begin; they are placed in the fences bordering the strips at
intervals of ten feet and continue for a mile along each side of
the strips.

These cups project, like the cups of bird cages, from the
side of the fence away from the cows, the opening into them
being just sufficient to allow one cow to drink at a time. The
water is admitted into each of these cups by a valve controlled
by a float, so that the cup is kept full and no water runs over.

The Live Stock Department. 105

The water pipes which run along the 20 foot strips between
these ranges are connected with a reservoir on the heights
behind them, and they supply not only the drinking cups and
the barns, but also serve to water the shade trees, which in a
double row along each strip, of many kinds artistically mingled,
were planted next year.

These have since grown to fine proportions, furnishing
abundant shade and giving great beauty to the district, besides
serving an excellent purpose as a windbreak. Another con-
trivance, of which there are many in each cow range, is curious ;
these are the flytraps, which are arrangements of revolving
brushes so set that they sweep a cow all over as she passes
through, brushing the flies as they arise from the cow into a
screenwire receiver, where they are effectually trapped. Each
such flytrap is arranged with a treadmill floor which skates
the cow through when she enters it, and prevents her loitering
there to monopolize its benefits ; the motion of this floor re-
volves the brushes, which are arranged to brush the cow's legs
and feet and every part of her body. It doesn't take a cow
long to learn the use of this apparatus and to enjoy it greatly,
and it is amusing to see a procession of them, as one may on
any warm day, tobogganing through one of these fly traps and
engaging in a frisky frolic with each other as they emerge. So
effective is this arrangement, that the flies around these ranges
are never very numerous, though the accumulation inside the
screens is considerable. These trapped flies, dead and alive,
are fumigated with sulphur at intervals and deposited in the
fertilizing material. The ranges, too, are kept carefully cleaned,
and this alone would keep the flies within bounds.

During the winter, when water in the open air would be
frozen into ice, the supply to these ranges is shut off, and water
warmed to a proper temperature is supplied to the cows in their

106 Perfecting the Earth.

stalls through a system of pipes provided for that purpose, but
even then, excepting during severe storms, the cows are still
turned out to exercise at the regular hours.

Another important division of the Fort Goodwill livestock
is the poultry department. There are about 600 acres devoted
to this use (it is not found profitable to crowd anything) but
there are about 1,000,000 hens at all times kept on hand here,
besides turkeys, ducks, and other fowls needed to make the
assortment complete. It is needless to describe the arrange-
ments ; they are, of course, the most perfect of their kind.
Every improvement anywhere discovered is at once tested, and
if found to be a real improvement, adopted. All fowls are
hatched in incubators, the largest' and best in the world being
kept constantly in operation here, for these poultry yards are
so conducted that their output shall abundantly supply every
want for poultry and eggs for every inhabitant of Fort Good-
will, of the mining villages, the camps of the forces temporarily
employed in this region, and for a time even the forces
employed in the Southern California field. And the supply
needed is not small, for, as Henry George remarked, men, as
well as hen hawks, eat chickens, and a population exceeding
half a million eat a good many.

Closely connected with these matters are the fertilizer
works. These constituted a departure from all previous large
scale farming so novel that a description of them must not be
omitted here.

Private enterprise, for many years before the opening of
this narrative, had in several instances undertaken the cultiva-
tion of wheat and other special farming on a very large scale,
but, the object in all these cases having been the enrichment
of the proprietor as quickly as possible while the remote future
was disregarded, these bonanza farms, as they were called in

The Live Stock Department. 107

the 19th century, were always located on fertile soil to begin
with, and, from the first, entered upon a course of progressive
exhaustion of the earth. Under this governmental manage-
ment, however, the enrichment of any person was no part of
the program.

Crops were grown for food, not for the market; current
prices cut no figure in the matter, and the remote future was
cared for as conscientiously as the next crop. This farming
enterprise was designed to last as long as man should inhabit
the earth, and the managers made it a point of conscience and
of pride that the fertility of these lands, rich as they were in the
outset, should, increase rather than diminish from the very
beginning ; hence this rule was rigidly observed, that for every
crop taken off, an equivalent return of fertilizing matter must
be made to the land from which it was taken.

The physical and chemical examination yearly of every
part of the soil under cultivation was a part of the system
adopted, and in this way all deficiencies were ascertained and
corrected.

A considerable part of the supply of fertilizing material is
derived from the sewerage of the city. This is carried through
a continuation of the main subway sewer girdling the city along
its park front, down the western slope from the terrace until it
strikes the line of Western avenue, thence along the line of
that avenue westward past the parks and gardens, past the
poultry ranges and the livestock and dairy districts, nearly to
the storage reservoir. There it curves toward the south past
the abattoir and the tanneries, receiving the drainage of all
these on its way. It terminates near the main canal in two
large basins, each having a surface of about five acres. Only
one of these basins receives the outflow at any one time ; when
the basin in use becomes full, a large quantity of lime is turned

108 Perfecting the Earth.

in, in the form of whitewash made as thick as it will flow. This,
agitated by machinery with the fluid contents of the basin until
thoroughly mixed, causes the solid substances to sepa-
rate and they are allowed to settle. Then the clear water is
drawn off into the irrigating canal and the basin is allowed to
refill with sewerage. This process is repeated until the deposit
formed in the basin is sufficient to cover its bottom to the depth
of six to eight feet when dry. The sewerage is then turned into
the other basin where it receives the same treatment, while the
deposit in the first dries and is excavated, the excavation and
removal of the mass being done by machinery, of course.

As with the farmer of old, so here, the manure from the
stables and the cow ranges formed the most bulky part of the
fertilizing material. Here, however, manure is not spread on
the fields with a fork after the manner of the old-time farmer,
and the different mode of application necessitates a different
treatment. Here, as has been mentioned, the manure from the
cowbarns is thrown out daily and dried in the sunshine, a
process favored through the greater part of the year by the
aridity of the climate. This dried material is then put on cars
which remove it to the grinding mills. These are in form much
like great meat cutting machines. In the hoppers of these,
this dried manure is mingled in due proportion with the deposit
from the sewerage and the combination is reduced to a coarse
powder. From these mills the ground manure is delivered on
carrier belts which convey it to another line of automatic cars
running on elevated tracks through the tops of a series of sheds
fitted to receive and store the fertilizing material into which
they drop their loads. This is the main bulk of the fertilizer
used; there is, however, another and stronger mixture pro-
duced in large quantities, which is stored by itself to be used
according to the requirements of special localities or special

The Live Stock Department. 109

crops. In the poultry department of Fort Goodwill, in which
the ranges are great enough to afford much freedom of exercise
for the fowls but not to supply any considerable portion of their
food as a natural product of the soil, in order to keep the health
of the fowls and the production of eggs at their highest point
much animal food is required and also a free supply of the
limey constituents of bone. To meet this need, the heads and
all parts not desired for food of the animals slaughtered at the
general abattoir are cut up by machinery and dried and crushed
before any decomposition can take place. The product result-
ing is given freely to the fowls, and after it is sorted over and
mostly eaten by them, the remaining parts are swept up with
the droppings and conveyed to a special mill, where, together
with all bones collected from the city kitchens and dining
rooms, and all vegetable ashes, the mass is dried and ground
to form the Fort Goodwill phosphate.

In due time the hundred square miles of wheat fields were
harvested, the wheat threshed, put in sacks and delivered on
cars at the sides of the fields, all at one operation, by combined
machines moved across the field in the same manner that the
plows and seed drills were moved at the time of the sowing.
A rack attached to the harvester gathered, also, as much of the
straw as it was desired to save, the amount being regulated by
the height at which the grain was cut, and delivered it at the
side of the field where it was received by other machines and
compressed, put on cars, and taken to storage barns in the
stock district. The yield of this first crop was excellent,
amounting altogether to 1,800,000 bushels.

As soon as the wheat was removed the ground was again /
irrigated to promote the growth of young grass and clover, and
very soon all cattle other than cows at the time giving milk,
were turned into these fields to pasture.

110 Perfecting the Earth.

Other machinery adapted to various uses on these irri-
gated lands had been prepared. The twenty square miles of
potatoes, which early in June had been planted on the upper
district, were planted by power planters which cut the seed into
pieces of the proper size, dropped them eight inches apart, and
covered them in shallow trenches which the machine plowed
as it went, forming rows four feet apart. At the proper times
they were cultivated by machines moved in the same manner,
and when in October the time had come for harvesting the
potatoes the way they were rolled out of the ground, picked
and sorted by the power potato diggers was a sight to open the
eyes of the old-time farmer and make him bid good-bye to his
backache forevermore.

Preparatory to digging the potatoes the ripened tops are
first gathered and taken to the pulp mill to be treated to pro-
duce fiber for plaster board and other forms of material used in
building. Then the digging machines, drawn across the field
by the power shafts and cables, run scoops under two rows at
a time, throwing the potatoes and earth on a screen which
sifts out the earth and conveys it back into the trenches from
which it has been taken. All stones and clods are sorted out
and rejected by a gravity device, and the potatoes are sorted
into three grades. Those small enough to pass through an
inch and a quarter screen are saved for food for swine, poultry
and other stock ; those larger than that, but small enough to
pass through a two and a quarter inch screen, are reserved for
seed, and all larger than that are kept for human use.

All are carried along on a conveyance attached to the
^machine for that purpose and delivered on the cars at the side
of the field.

Of this first crop of potatoes there were of all sorts some-
thing more than 1,500,000 bushels. This land from which the

The Live Stock Department. Ill

potatoes had been gathered was the first to receive a dressing
of the fertilizing material, the manufacture of which has been
described. It was taken to the fields in trolley cars, each fitted
with a hopper box and with roller feeding mechanism con-
nected with the land wheels. On the border of the field the car
is lifted and turned, the broad land wheels are attached, and
the car moves across the field and back, drawn by the power
cables, distributing its load at a rate fixed by the feed gauge as
it goes. When the load is spread the land rollers are removed
from the car and again as a trolley car it returns for another
load.

Preparatory to the peopling of the city and the final break-
ing up of the temporary camp on the slope east of the indus-
trial district between the foot of the city terrace and the
irrigating canal, an irrigating ditch or small canal was cut
along the foot of the terrace above that slope, and when the
camp was abandoned this area was irrigated by the old open
ditch method and afterwards plowed with portable engines
preparatory to planting it with apple trees in the spring.

Extensive orchards for plum and cherry trees, and gardens
for small fruits were at the same time laid out on the potato
land.

As fast as the houses in the city were completed the
accepted applicants for enrollment in the citizen tenantry, with
their families, were installed in them. The industries were
manned from their ranks under foremen promoted for merit
from the former service, and, before the winter set in, the
aspect of the city had changed from that of an industrial mili-
tary camp to that of a thriving town filled with happy people,
among whom were women and children in the usual propor-
tions.

112 Perfecting the Earth.

To serve the needs of these people, the cooking and food
delivery service was moved into the basements of the public
buildings which during the preceding winter had served as
barracks for the army of occupation. These buildings now
received their permanent fittings and were transformed to suit
their final uses. The laundry department continued its ser-
vices to the whole people in its original site, and the lectures,
which had been a routine part of the instruction of the army,
were continued as an adjunct of the schools and adapted to the
needs of the new adult population. Examinations, for honors
and promotion, on the subject matter of these lectures were
adopted for the purpose of cultivating among these people the
habit of careful attention, and the regular hours and the system
prevailing in everything greatly promoted the lecture going
habit.

Activities of the year 1916. 113

CHAPTER XL

With the close of this season of 1915 Fort Goodwill had
assumed normal conditions. The works of that season in this
region had* again given employment to the greater part of the
army, though a division somewhat larger than that of the
previous year had remained to push forward the works in
southern California. Again, for the winter, the great body of
the army was returned to the San Bernardino district, where
they gave the work in the quarries of the San Jacinto and on
the mysterious foundations in the valley of the Santa Margarita
a tremendous push, while many other auxiliary works were
advanced in proportion. With the return of spring, the ener-
gies of two-thirds of the army were again applied in Utah.
This season, the irrigating works were pushed as never before.

Toward the construction of the great dam on the Green
River canyon, the rocky bed had been cleared and carved to
receive the masonry, and five courses of granite, each three feet
thick, had been laid all solid in cement across the floor of the
canyon. This structure did not yet reach entirely across the
canyon, but it measured more than half a mile from end to end
and 433 feet from front to back. Behind this foundation a pond
was formed, and over it, all through the winter and the floods
of spring, the river poured, finding here the hardest and most
indestructible bed in all its course. With the return of spring
the quarries of granite on the heights near by, from which the
stone for this dam was taken, were enlarged. Ten thousand
stone cutters, each working with power chisels and every device
that could make their work effective, were fitting the great
blocks each to the place for which it was measured in the plan.

114 Perfecting the Earth.

From the quarries and stone yards above, a broad belt of
tramways led down the slope to this base of the great dam,
and on these tramways the blocks of dressed stone, each
mounted on a truck and controlled by a cable, were passing
down continually, and the empty trucks were as continually
ascending. On the surface of the dam below, these trucks with
their loads were switched onto movable tracks along which
they ran to the places- where the stone was needed ; with all
this, of course, there was everywhere hoisting machinery and
every convenience for handling the stone. Over the edge of the
pond behind this dam of masonry was stretched a double track
of strong wire cables along which in continuous procession
came dumping baskets each loaded with a ton or more of earth,
which they dropped in the water just behind the stonework.
This earth was taken from the excavations made for the irri-
gating canals, the trolley roads along their banks bringing it
to deposit here from long distances up the White River canal
on the left bank and from the Green River canal on the right.

This season added 150 feet to the height of the dam,
making its height 165 feet. Up the White river in Colorado,
at the other end of the canal on the left bank, the great 175
feet dam was pushed in like manner, and completed with the
close of the season, and when work on the Green River dam
was renewed in the spring of 1917 the waters of the White
river were flowing through the canal into the great Green
River reservoir. This year, too, the system of irrigation on the
wheat fields of 1914-15 was changed from the surface to the
subsoil method. In making this change, the power system
being already on the ground saved a world of work. Trenches
from three to four feet deep, ten feet apart, and only six inches
wide at the bottom, were cut across the fields by machines
drawn by the power shafts and cables in the same manner as

Actvities of the year 1916. 115

the plows and reapers were moved; perforated pipes were laid
in these trenches and covered with a foot of crushed stone.
Cross pipes connected them at intervals to equalize the circu-
lation of the water, and to adapt the system to varying levels
each level was shut off by itself and connected with the higher
parts by float valves, so that the water could nowhere rise
higher than six inches below the surface of the ground. Then
the trenches were refilled with earth, and after this the irriga-
tion of the fields only needed that the water should be turned
on and shut off at a valve at the proper times and the mellow
surface of the ground remained unmelted and untrodden from
seed time to harvest.

Two hundred square miles of new land this season were
fitted for irrigation and put under power in the White River
district, and now there was a farm under cultivation amply
large enough to feed the army and the people of the towns, to
produce enough of all kinds of food needed which it was pos-
sible to produce in this region, with an excess for exchange,
and to permit a proper rotation of crops, and everything was
done by the most effective methods that, under an ideally per-
fect system of agriculture, could be devised.

But these works were designed not only to feed the army
and the people of Fort Goodwill, but to make all this arid
desert of the west bud and blossom like a garden. Anticipating
the need, when the great dam on the Green River canyon
would be completed, work was now pushed with renewed
energy and tripled force on the tunnelled canal and its con-
tinuation on the south side of the mountain to the new reser-
voir on Prices river. And preliminary work was now begun
to found and build another city as large as Fort Goodwill, to
be the center of the new agricultural district here to be devel-
oped. According to the plan adopted by the management of

116 Perfecting the Earth.

these campaigns of peace and usefulness, certain conditions
were required in a town site, which may be specified thus:
1st, a sufficient supply of good water must be attainable ; 2nd,
in order to provide for the drainage of sewers into the agricul-
tural land where the organic matter which they carry may be
restored to the earth and not be wasted nor become a source
of pollution to the waters of the region, the town site must be
on a higher level than the neighboring agricultural land ; 3rd,
in order to distribute the water through the town by its own
pressure it was held desirable that there should be other land
in the vicinity at a higher level than the town site, though this
condition might be dispensed with if necessary by the substitu-
tion of power water works ; 4th, convenience of access between
a town and its tributary territory is necessary, and the beauty of
its surroundings should be considered.

When the Fort Goodwill and San Bernardino railway was
constructed, two years before, it was found best to cross the
canyon of the Green river a little below the mouth of the
Uintah, to its east side, and to lay the course of the road down
the canyon for about a hundred miles toward the south on
that side of the river. The last six or eight miles of this course,
after crossing about twenty miles of plain, skirts along the foot
of a mesa or plateau lying on the east side of the railway. This
is part of a large mesa occupying the angle between the Green
and the Grand rivers, which has a length of about thirty miles
and an outline much like the continent of South America. The
level of this plateau lies above that of the main irrigating canal
planned for this region, but the surveys had shown that by
constructing an aqueduct across the canyon of the Grand river
from a group of high mountains on the east side of that chasm,
water enough could be obtained not only to supply the needs
of the city to be built there, but also to make a garden of the

Actvities of the year ipid. 117

entire plateau. This essential condition being met, a beautiful
terrace on the northwestern part of the mesa just above the
bend of the railway was selected for the site of the new city,
and Mount Ceres was the name chosen for it. Here, however,
great preparatory works were necessary to bring the water to
the ground before this site could be habitable for more than a
working force whose needs could be supplied by railway.
There was a great aqueduct to be built across the canyon of the
Grand river at an enormous height, and girdling canals must
,be constructed about the mountains, and a reservoir built to
collect the water from a region to all appearance as dry as
Sahara. These works were now undertaken. To complete
them, two or three years would be needed before the city could
be built, but there was not here, as there had been at Fort
Goodwill, any pressing need for its immediate building.

In laying out the city of Mount Ceres the same general
plan was followed as that adopted for Fort Goodwill, but it
was pursued without hurry by a moderate force of from 2,000
to 4,000 men, for whose support on the ground provision was
made.

In the San Bernardino district, meanwhile, the quarries of
the San Jacinto were kept running with the maximum force
employed, and the stone, all cut to specifications and marked
for its place, was piling up over miles and miles of territory in
the Santa Margarita valley and across the plain between the
San Jacinto mountains and Redlands where the grading and
excavating for foundations was going on. The force engaged
in doing this grading and excavating had mostly been with-
drawn during summer to assist in the works in Utah, but as
the season advanced and the works for which there was press-
ing need drew near completion the men came back. All
through the summer, too, small detachments were busy about

118 Perfecting the Earth.

a hundred auxiliary enterprises. A limey shale, which when
properly burned, constituted the best of portland cement with-
out further compounding, had been found in inexhaustible
quantities, and works were constructed for preparing it on a
large scale. Great lime kilns had been operated since the year
before, The explorations to ascertain the mineral and geo-
logical resources of the country were carried on without inter-
mission ; artesian wells were bored for exploratory purposes at
regular intervals in all parts of the region until they penetrated
the primeval granite, and all the strata of which the land is
built were as well known and as minutely mapped as the
surface of the country. Salt was found to exist in abundance
in many places, but at present that was a matter of no conse-
quence. The sulphur deposits which had long been known to
exist near the Mexican boundary were carefully examined with
regard to their extent, with the result that preparations were
making to utilize them in some manner not yet apparent.
Copper ore was also found in the southern extension of the
San Bernardino range. Up in the northern part of the Mohave
desert, natural gas was found in great abundance, and much
activity seemed to be centered about that discovery, every well
from which gas flowed being carefully capped and closed in
•the meanwhile. The great deposits of borax and soda in Death
valley were also objects of much attention.

Early in September of this year, train loads of structural
steel from Fort Goodwill, mostly of a very massive type, began
to arrive daily at San Bernardino. Up to this time the pro-
duction of water pipe, rails, shafting and electrical machinery
had overshadowed all other activities in the Fort Goodwill iron
works and machine shops, but a standing order was given, as
the call for other products slackened, to produce structural steel
up to the capacity of the works and send it to San Bernardino.

Actvities of the year 1916. 119

For this steel a few definite sizes and patterns were given, and
every piece was most carefully inspected, any flaw or imper-
fection causing it to be rejected.

On the plateau about the border of which the great sub-
way and sewer was begun during the first season of operations
in this vicinity, no great activity was apparent. Plats and plans
covering the whole tract were on exhibition in the offices of the
department of construction and all architects were invited to
contribute ideas, plans and drawings, or criticisms tending to
perfect. the future city in beauty or convenience.

As plans were perfected and accepted the sewer and sub-
way system tributary to the first great girdling subway, which
was now nearly completed, was pushed along to serve the needs
of the buildings to be erected. Temporary buildings were con-
structed to provide for present needs. Here and there among
these temporary structures some gem of a building intended
to be permanent was in course of construction. Trees were
planted and tended on every part of the plateau under the care
and management of the landscape artists, in accordance with
plans that had been subjected to the criticism of all and received
suggestions from whoever thought he could point out an im-
perfection or suggest an improvement, but deliberation was as
marked in all proceedings here as haste had been in the build-
ing of Fort Goodwill. The growing town had, meanwhile,
received the name of New Utopia.

The catacombs of the quarries were growing to immense
proportions, and up on the San Jacinto mountains the absence
of browsing stock and the retention of the water in the ravines
and reservoirs had already produced a marked increase of
verdure.

120 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER XII.
(1916 continued.)

During this year, work on the grading and the mysterious
foundations in the valley of the Santa Margarita was pushed
with greater vigor than ever before. Even during the rush of
the season, when most of the army were employed in the Utah
operations, more than fifty thousand men, exclusive of the
quarrymen and those engaged in removing the stone and
other materials to their final location, remained to push the
work here, and great numbers of these foundation piers had
already been built.

The district covered by these works had become well
defined. From a point about four miles southwest of the
southern limit of the New Utopia plateau it extended in a belt
five miles wide to the distance of sixteen miles a little east of
north. Then turning toward the northeast and preserving the
same width of five miles it extended in a direct line nearly to
the top of the highest part of the San Bernardino range of
mountains, passing the isolated main peak on its eastern flank.

From the point of beginning toward the sea, the tract
covered by these works, instead of continuing in a strip five
miles wide, spreads out in a fan or funnel shape, the northern
and western boundary, bending about the southern spur of
the Santa Ana hills, took a direction a little south of west and
continued in a straight line to the Pacific Ocean, the other, or
eastern margin, bending a very little toward the west, crosses
the channel of the Santa Margarita river and also that of the
San Luis Rey, striking the Pacific about two and a half miles

The Mysterious Foundations. 121

south of the latter. The points of intersection of these mar-
ginal lines with the coast are twenty-one miles apart.

Within these boundaries, founded on the bedrock as before
described, lines of foundations parallel with the eastern margin
of the tract were built a quarter of a mile apart; twenty-one
such lines including the margins in that part of the tract that
is five miles wide.

In the lines these foundations were built exactly 264 feet
apart from center to center and carefully aligned with those in
other lines so that straight lines from margin to margin 264
feet apart would pass over the exact center of a foundation pier
in each of the 21 lines.

In the marginal lines these piers were made so massive
that they formed a continuous bed of masonry 300 feet broad.
The foundation piers in the inner lines were 50 feet square at
the top, the bases greater; they rested on the bed rock, how-
ever far below the surface of the ground that might be, and
were finished at such a height always that a straight line drawn
from the top of any pier to the tops of the neighboring piers in
the same line and also in the lines on either side would pass
clear of all obstructions, that is, in case of the inside lines, leave
a clear line of sight from the top of any pier to the top of the
nearest pier in either one of four directions. This work was
going on within the area above described at hundreds of places
at the same time, but thus far mostly within the belt only five
miles wide. Together with what had previously been accom-
plished, the foundations completed this year were more than
enough to cover twenty square miles in the arrangement de-
scribed without a gap. The entire area of the tract, however,
was a little more than 450 square miles.

While this work was going on, the massive structural
steel was accumulating faster and faster up at San Bernardino,

122 Perfecting the Earth.

each size and pattern of it in immense piles, of each of which
each piece was alike.

In connection with this steel, a use was found for the sul-
phur beds and the copper mines previously mentioned. At the
sulphur beds works were constructed for the production of
sulphuric acid, and at the copper mines the ore, which was of a
low grade but easily worked, was crushed and leached with a
solution of sulphuric acid piped there from the acid works, and
a beautiful solution of blue vitriol was obtained in quantities
as large as might be desired. Meanwhile, at the steel deposi-
taries at San Bernardino great vats were constructed with
roller ways leading into them from the stacks of steel. These
vats were fitted with electrical apparatus, the sulphate of copper
solution from the leaching vats at the mines was piped into
them, and then a new industry was started, namely, the electro
plating of all this steel with copper, which was done very
heavily and in the most perfect manner possible.

One hundred and forty miles north of San Bernardino and
twenty miles east, is the depressed area which from the time
the country was first explored has been known as Death valley.
It is 160 feet below the level of the sea, and therefore the heat
of the desert is more intense there than on higher levels.
No rain was ever known to fall there, and there the alkalies of
the desert had accumulated for ages.

This deposit had long been a source from which unlimited
quantities of borax had been obtained. Forty miles further
south, and thence forty miles to the eastward, was the heart of
the natural gas district which had been discovered by the
artesian well exploration.

The eastern side of Death valley is bordered by a range of
mountains reaching the height of 6,000 feet, known as the
Black mountains, and the southern part of this range bends to

The Mysterioiis Foundations. 123

the eastward terminating in a spur which lies 25 miles south-
east of Death valley. Between this spur and another termi-
nating 18 miles further north, on the east side of the range, lies
an elevated irregular plain sloping toward the east. On these
heights rain falls in its season, and when it falls there is a
considerable stream of water poured across this rugged plain
into the Salt Lake of Southern California, which, 17 miles long
and from one to three miles wide, stretches from north to south
across the foot of the broad valley or rugged plain mentioned,
and past the foot of the southern spur of the Black mountains.
The Fort Goodwill and New Utopia railway runs along the
western border of this lake. Here, then, were all the conditions
essential to a town site. The stream pouring down from the
Black mountains into the Salt lake, though but a dry bed
through the greater part of the year, when its waters should be
stored in a suitable reservoir would furnish an ample supply for
a moderate sized town, and for gardens in the valley. The
slope along the margin of the lake, with the railway passing
across it, afforded a convenient site for accessibility, and with
its outlook across the lake to another range of mountains on
the east and over the future gardens in the valley above to the
Black mountains in the west, while the landscape opened up
over the broad plain of the Mohave desert on the south; the
site promised to be as beautiful as one could wish. On this
desert plain, a short distance to the southward, was white
quartz sand in unlimited quantities; this, with the borax and
soda of Death valley, and the natural gas near by, furnished all
the elements needed for the manufacture of glass in unlimited
quantities.

Here, then, a town was built, consisting of four of the Fort
Goodwill blocks for residence purposes, and an enormous glass

124 Perfecting the Earth.

factory by the side of the railway below as its only industry,
and the name given to this town was Vitre.

Since many years before the time of which we speak, it had
become a notable fact that steel, glass, and most of the staple
products of industry had become the products of " plants " to
a far greater degree than they were the products of labor.
Some human labor, of course, was needed to tend the plants
and keep them in a productive condition, but it was, as it is
yet, the size and perfection of the plant rather than the force
employed that determined the output, and this glass plant was
immense beyond anything of its kind.

What use could possibly be made of the immense quanti-
ties of glass that could be produced here was something that
the world could not imagine, especially since the supply of
glass of all kinds had for a long time so far exceeded the
demand that many glass factories had been closed and many
glass merchants reduced to bankruptcy within recent years.
So out of keeping with all apparent uses this military glass
factory seemed, that the idea became current that the manage-
ment of the army was insane, an idea to which the mysterious
foundations, the great accumulations of steel at San Bernardino
and the copper plating works connected therewith had pre-
viously given rise, and which was sedulously promulgated by
the capitalists of the land. But it was replied that all this, and
especially this, had been considered by the board of savants
to whom the plans had been submitted before the military
industrial program had been entered upon ; beyond this, not a
word in regard to the purpose of all these works did the
authorities divulge. Their magnitude made them a world's
wonder and such they remained until their progress made their
form and purpose evident.

Meanwhile, however, the facts that these works were cost-

The Mysterious Foundations. 125

ing the people nothing, that the army had now become wholly
self supporting, and that while nearly 200,000 families had now
escaped from poverty into ease and plenty in the citizen
tenantry, the amelioration of their condition had led to reforms
which wrought a corresponding improvement in the condition
of the masses everywhere, prevented any formidable opposition
which might otherwise have arisen.

The capitalists, however, were inconsolable. Business,
they declared, was ruined, their occupation was gone, and these
were the hardest times that history has recorded, all in conse-
quence of the detestable socialistic policy that had been pursued
in the management of the army.

Among the millions of the people, however, these capital-
ists were but few, and the changes which had taken want and
the fear of want from the millions had not put that few in any
danger of want; the same abundance of nature's storehouses
which had been opened to the millions was open to them also.
It was their power to oppress, only, that had been taken away
from them, and the people said, if this be madness, give us
more of it.

From this it resulted that in the presidential election which
took place in November, 1916, the existing administration was
re-elected by a majority that was simply overwhelming in every
state of the Union, and "businessmen's government" was finally
and hopelessly turned down.

126 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER XIII.

The population of Fort Goodwill had now grown to some-
thing more than 320,000 of whom more than 300,000 were of
the citizen tenantry.

The labor required of all adult citizens according to the
conditions of enrollment in the citizen tenantry had promoted
a very active and happy, as well as orderly, mode of life among
the inhabitants.

The four hours of labor per day required of women sufficed
to permit the organization of a corps of housekeepers who,
under the charge of forewomen of their own selection, kept all
the public buildings of the city neat and attractive while the
task afforded scope for a talent in which, fortunately, many
women excell and which it is desirable to cultivate in all. From
among the women, also, was organized a corps of table waiters
who serve in the public dining rooms, in which service mechan-
ical carrying devices reduced the labor to a minimum. Women
also attend the spinning and spooling machinery and the looms
in the cotton, woolen and silk mills, as they did under the old
regime. And, as of yore, women are the teachers in the pri-
mary grades of the public schools. Many of them also serve as
lecturers in the educational courses and fill professorships in
the higher grades of schools, for these positions are open to
every one who can demonstrate ability to hold an audience and
can pass the examinations and accomplish the purpose of the
lectures, without regard to sex or previous occupation.

The systematic employment and public life of the Fort
Goodwill people proved a great promoter of intellectual life,
as did the habit of close attention and accurate observation
which was cultivated in the schools.

Third Period — 19/7-79^7. 127

The custom of hearing lectures daily, also, put the life of
the people generally on a far higher plane than any, unless it
were some small, select circles in any other city up to that time,
had attained. Men, women and children, alike had something
more interesting to hear and to see, to think of, and to talk of,
than gossip and chit-chat.

In Fort Goodwill the school system is the foundation of
intellectual life for the whole people. Each of the large build-
ings first erected at the corners of the blocks is, in accordance
with the original design, in its second story a schoolhouse.
These were sufficient to serve the needs of the people for the
primary grades. For the more advanced courses suitable pro-
vision was made in the tract reserved for that purpose under
the name of Education park.

Education being here regarded as the object and consum-
mation of life, and, not, as in other cities and former times it
had been, as merely a preparation for and incident in life,
required far more ample accommodations than had been given
to that object in any former city of like population. And yet,
whenever the weather would permit, which in the delightful
climate of Fort Goodwill is the greater part of the year, a large
part of the school exercises were held in the open air.

The trees in the Fort Goodwill parks and about the public
buildings in the corner squares, though in vigorous health and
growing rapidly under the fostering care of the board of for-
estry, at the time of which we are speaking, were yet too young
to furnish the shade needed; but, to prevent the fixing of
indoor habits in teachers as well as scholars, awnings were
erected under which a part of the exercises of every class were
conducted.

The methods of teaching adopted in Fort Goodwill were
a radical departure from any system previously in vogue else-

128 Perfecting the Earth.

where, except that of the kindergarten, of which the Fort
Goodwill system is a development.

There was a change of purpose, which may be summarized
in the statement that education rather than instruction was the
object sought, and a change of methods which strikingly
appears in the fact that nature was the text book, no books
being put in the hands of the pupils for study. Libraries were
placed at the disposal of teachers and pupils alike, but teaching
was the work required of live teachers and not to be relegated
to dead print. The result was that within a year the children
in the Fort Goodwill schools became the brightest and strong-
est thinkers in the schools of the country. So marked was this
fact that the school boards of many cities sent men for the
special purpose of examining and reporting on the Fort Good-
will school system.

One of these inspecting visitors was Professor X. from
Boston, Mass., from whose report we quote the description
that follows:

The next morning after my arrival in Fort Goodwill
I introduced myself to Colonel M. in charge of the depart-
ment of education. In the course of our conversation I
chanced to remark that the excellent schools of the city cer-
tainly gave to the Fort Goodwill children a magnificent prepa-
ration for life. "Preparation for life, sir !" remarked the Colonel,
"you seem to be in error. Education is not a preparation for
life, it is life ; in so far as anyone falls short of education he falls
short of life. But come with me and let us take a look at the
children and what they are doing."-

We approached Education park shortly before the second
morning session, and as we drew near the ground our ears were
greeted with the sound of rather lively music accompanied by
merry shouting and singing. Approaching yet nearer, we per-

Third Period — 1917-19^1. 129

ceived that three of the boys had constituted themselves into a
military band with bugle and fife and drum, and they were
leading a very lively procession in half a march and half a
dance to the old tune of Captain Jinks, to which the procession
kept step while they sang with variations,

"I'm Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines,
I feed my horse on corn and beans,
Which used to be beyond the means

Of Captain Jinks of the army. '

I teach young ladies how to dance,
To sing and dance,
To sing and dance,
I teach young ladies how to dance,

I'm Captain Jinks of the army.
I'm Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines,
And now we raise our corn and beans,
Such things are quite within the means
Of Captain Jinks of the army."

"Well, Colonel," I remarked, "it is pleasant to get rid of that
old-time wail of poverty that, like an undertone of distress, ran
through almost everything, even the rollicking, strutting, devil
may care music of Captain Jinks." The Colonel smiled assent,
but just then the bell sounded for school, and, laughing and
shouting, the children scattered to the several awnings where
the teachers were to meet their classes. "This," said the
Colonel, "is a section of the fourth grade observation class."
As the teacher called the numbers to the number of twenty,
the children took their places in line.

"We will first hear what you discovered in regard to the
substance," said the teacher. "Number one : What can you
tell us?"

"The substance was in the form of round masses, greyish
white, hard, but not so hard but I could cut it with my knife,
it shave'd fine like horn when cut, softened slowly when the
shavings were put in water; don't know what it is." "Very

130 Perfecting the Earth.

well; Number two: Can you tell us anything that John has
omitted?" "No." "Number three?" "No." "Number four,
Mary S.?" "Yes, I found that the powdered substance would
burn when put on a hot iron, turning first brown, then black,
and smoking it smelled like burned bread. I believe the masses
are made of dough." "Very well; go to the head. William,
can you tell us anything about the substance that the others
omitted?" "No." "Number six?" "No." "Number seven?"
"No." "Number eight?" "Yes. They are heavier than water,
because when dropped in water they sank. When I scraped
one of the masses and dropped the powder in water it slowly
sank. When I boiled the water it mixed with it and thickened
it like starch. I tried burning it, too, and noticed the same
smell like burning bread. I believe they are made of flour."
"Very well ; go to the head. Number nine : Can you tell us
anything else about the substance?" "No." "Number ten?"
"No." "Number eleven?" "No." "Number twelve?" "Yes;
I did not try burning it, but I crushed it in water and boiled
it, and noticing that it acted like starch, I remembered hear-
ing my brother tell that iodine was a test, for starch, so I got
a drop or two of his iodine solution and put it into some of
the thickened water, and it immediately turned blue, prov-
ing that the substance was starch. Then I wanted to see
whether there was anything else in it, so after I had boiled
it well, I strained it through a fine cloth and found there
was a gummy substance that did not easily go through, nor,
after I had washed it well with hot water, turn blue with iodine,
and further I found some flakes that looked like bran. I
believe the masses are made of whole wheat flour.

The class cheered this particularly bright report. "Well
done," said the teacher, "go to the head. Number thirteen :
Can you tell us anything about the substance that we haven't

Third Period — 7977-79^7. 131

heard?" "No." "Is there anyone else that can? Let him hold
up his hand. No one has anything further to tell us about it.
Well, children you have examined the substance very well. It
consists of whole wheat flour made wet with water, pressed
into moulds, boiled in the moulds and dried. We will now
hear what you have found about the plant. Number thirteen :
Tell us what you have noticed." The plant on this occasion
was white clover, and the very many noticeable points that it
presented gave almost every pupil a chance to mention some-
thing that the others had omitted. Those who mentioned some
point that the others had omitted took their places at number
thirteen until the question had come round to number one
again.

I asked Colonel M. whether it was not found that some
were dull and discouraged in the competition with the particu-
larly bright children, and he replied, "Yes, but we transfer
particularly dull children to other sections more suitable for
them until we get them interested. As soon as we get their
interest among others of about their own ability they make
rapid progress. The particularly bright children, too, are
transferred to other sections where the race between them is
kept lively, and, as you see, we break the monotony by chang-
ing the topic in the same exercise, in this instance from a
substance to a plant. Let us visit a section of the advanced
class in geography," said Colonel M., and following him to
another awning, I heard the teacher state this problem : "After
a journey of unknown length taken during a period of uncon-
sciousness, I find myself in a country where there are rugged
mountains, some of which, during the greater part of the year,
are tipped with snow. Some of these mountains come down
to the sea, forming high, rugged promontories enclosing deep,
landlocked bays. The country appears to be well wooded with

132 Perfecting the Earth.

deciduous trees, and, though mountainous as a whole, there are
extensive grassy plains and great forests. Much of the land
has been converted into farms. Wheat, oats, corn, apples,
plums and peaches, grass and clover are growing there, and
sheep, cattle and horses abound. I see, too, that there are
railways here, and electric lights and power, that the people
are well up to the times in their ways of doing their work, and,
passing among them, I find that their language is English.
When I am on such journeys as this, however, I am invisible
and can ask no questions. It being a season of the year when
the days and nights are nearly equal, I notice that the sun at
noon is, as nearly as can be ascertained without instruments,
half way between the zenith and the horizon, but, on watching
it, one thing strikes me strangely, instead of moving from left
to right, as I have always seen it move, the sun is passing
across the sky from right to left. Think of this for five minutes
and tell me where I am."

When the five minutes were up the teacher asked all who
thought they could locate the region described to raise their
hand. Nearly all the class did so. "John : You may tell where
the place in which I find myself is located." "New Zealand,"
said John.

"Are the rest of the class in accord with this answer? Any-
one who thinks it is elsewhere, hold up the hand."

No hand was raised. "Then you are all agreed that it is
New Zealand. William : Tell us why you conclude that it is
New Zealand."

"From the nature of the crops and the forest, also from the
height of the sun at noon when the days and nights are equal,
the location is in the temperate zone and in the latitude of the
forties. But, since the sun is moving from right to left, instead
of from left to right, it is in the south temperate zone. The

Third Period — 1917- 1921. 133

lands lying in that latitude are South Africa, the southern part
of South America, South Australia, New Zealand and a few
small islands. By the description it is not-a small island. In
South Africa the English language is spoken in part, but the
character of the country is wholly different from the descrip-
tion given. It might possibly be some part of the coast of
Chile, but there the language -spoken is Spanish. Australia
is not rugged enough on any part of its coast to fit the descrip-
tion, and it is also too arid. There remains only New Zealand,
and that fills the bill perfectly."

"Very well ; has anyone anything to add, or any criticism
to make?" One hand went up. "Well, Charles, what have
you to offer?"

"I think Tasmania should have been mentioned ; I agree
with the conclusion, however."

"The point is well taken," said the teacher. "Frank, you
may tell us why in the south temperate zone we should see the
sun moving from right to left, instead of from left to right."

"If I lie down on my back with my head toward the south
and watch the course of the sun here, it will be fr.om right to
left. The direction of the sun's apparent motion in this respect
depends on the position of the observer's body with regard to
it. But, the earth being a sphere, there is some part of its
surface where the body of a man standing erect will be parallel
to any possible position.

"To find the point where my body when standing erect will
be parallel to its position here when lying flat on my back I
must go, in the direction my head points, over a portion of the
earth's circumference equal to the angular difference between
the direction of my head from my feet when standing erect and
when lying down, which in this case is one quarter of the way
round the earth, or ninety degrees of latitude toward the south.

134 /V; /,•,////:; ///c /•.'</;•///.

Our latitude here is close to forty degrees north. Take ninety
degrees from forty decrees of north latitude ;ind its leaves
minus fifty devices of north latitude, that is fifty degrees of
south latitude, at which point on this meridian my hodv when
standing erei-t would be parallel Will, its position here when

lying down on a horizontal plane with my head toward the
south. A similar calculation will give a similar result with
corresponding differences of latitude from any point where the
sun is ordinarily seen moving from left to right, which is any
point in the north temperate zone, from which it follows that
from any point in the south temperate zone the sun will, to a
person standing erect, be seen moving across the sky from
right to left in a path corresponding to that in which from the

( . ii icspondiiiL; latitude in the n<>itli<ni hemisphere it is seen
moving hum left to right."

"Very good. Has anyone any other explanation to oiler,

or any ciiticism to make:' If so, raise the hand."

About a do/en hands went up.

"Mary C. : What have you tO Say regarding the matter;'"

"Wo have always been taught," said Marv, "that in the
southein hemisphere the sun is seen moving across the
northern instead of the southern sky, and, as it rises in the east
and sets in tin \\est in the northern and souilurn hemispheres
alike, if in the southern hemisphere it moves across the north-
ern instead of the southern sky it must move from right to loft.
If it moved across the northern sky here, it would move from
right to left, i think that is a simpler explanation than
Frank's." The class cheered approval.

"So it is," said the teacher, "and eoirect. but not so scien-
tific as I'Yank's in that it fails to set forth the reason why things
are as they are. Has anyone anything else to add? None.

The answers given are entire!) correct, likewise- the reasoning.

Third Period — 1917-19^7. 135

But I am subject to these strange, unconscious journeyings,
and again I find myself in a strange place.

"This time, I am on a small wooded island, apparently
uninhabited. Near the shore grow the white birch, white
poplar and hemlock ; close to the beach are clusters of creeping
juniper growing in the wind driven sand, there is the erect
variety, also, a little back. The white cedar is growing in every
springy or swampy place, and the hemlock, mingled with beech
and white oak, is found over nearly the whole island. On a
sandy flat yonder is a grove of Norway pine. Blackberry briars
and raspberries abound on the higher parts of the island, also
gooseberry bushes and black currants here find their congenial
haunts under nature's planting. The blackberry briars are in
blossom, and the tips of the young hemlock branches droop
over the darker fronds in pale and tender green tassels, very
beautiful to see. The sun rides high in the sky, passing from
left to right, my shadow at noon being not much longer than
my stride when walking vigorously. Looking out over the
water, there is no other land to be seen, except in one direction
where a blue line on the horizon indicates a distant shore. The
waves roll long and high, like the ocean, but I can see no sea-
weed nor any shells on the shore. There is much driftwood,
however, and some of it bears the marks of ax and saw. I
taste of the water, and find it fresh and good to drink. Where
am I, and what is the time of the year? William and Frank
may be excused from answering."

This problem proved even more fruitful than the other.
The answer worked out was, an island in Lake Superior, the
northern part of Lake Michigan or Lake Huron ; time, the last
part of June or the first, part of July.

''This," said Colonel M., "will fairly illustrate to you our
manner of school work. We lead the children to use their own

136 Perfecting the Earth.

faculties, to observe closely and reason correctly, to form their
own conclusions from their own data. The whole course in
our schools is in direct continuation from the kindergarten
work. When we teach a child to read we do not tell him the
names of the letters, but teach him their use in simple words,
having previously taught him to notice particularly their forms
with those of many other objects. In teaching mathematics, we
dwell especially on the reasoning, regarding it the most impor-
tant use of a mathematical course to teach a pupil in what
proof consists and to distinguish the difference between evi-
dence and assertion, no matter how ancient the assertion
may be.

"In history we teach our pupils to trace events and condi-
tions back to their causes. The law of causation and the evolu-
tionary philosophy we keep in sight in all things.

"We te^ch no language but our own, and, while our pupils
take naturally to the use of our libraries in their search for
information regarding the thousands of topics that come to
their attention, the use of text books is no part of our school
work. Teachers may use them, but it is the teacher's business
to lead his pupils forward in knowledge and intelligence from
nature and not from books/'

"By the way, Colonel," I remarked, "I haven't seen a
horse in this region, nor heard his name mentioned, except
in that absurd Captain Jinks song. Do these children really
know what a horse is?"

"Oh, yes," said the Colonel, "horseback exercises are a
special line of training in our schools. The rocky 'lieight yon-
der, that occupies the middle of Educational park, is threaded
in all directions with bridle paths, while the more level ground
at its foot on either side is especially prepared for equestrian
evolutions. The equestrian classes, which include both boys

Third Period— 1917-1921. 137

and girls, are exercised in all manner of riding feats, including
hasty scrambles over the height and reforming for evolutions
on the other side. The horse with us is a means of physical
training, and also a sort of avant-courier of civilization. When
in city or field, on mountain or^plain, we have got our machin-
ery in order, we have no further use for the horse, but until
then he comes in handy. Besides, we have always need for
couriers in the mountains, for whose use the horse is indis-
pensable. We will, if you please, see the equestrian class exer-
cise-tomorrow morning between 8 and 9 a. m."

This we did, and I may say that for action and life no wild
west show nor circus could compare with the evolutions and
feats of the 1,200 young riders which, the next morning, I
witnessed from the top of a rocky pinnacle on the height which
Colonel M. pointed out to me.

The riding classes, I learned, were in four grades, exer-
cising one hour each, from 8 to 9 and from 10 to 11 a. m., and
from 1 to 2 and from 3 to 4 p. m., the beginners taking the last
hour and passing to the next earlier as they advance in pro-
ficiency, the same horses serving for all with an hour's rest
after each hour of exercise, and beginning fresh in the morning
for the most advanced grade of riders.

138 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER XIV.

Fort Goodwill, even at this early epoch, was the cleanest
city on earth. Its streets were paved as fast as the residences
bordering them were completed. The body of the pavement
used was a thick bed of macadam, or crushed stone, rolled into
compactness with heavy rollers and covered, on some streets,
with asphaltum, from the great deposits of that material which
for many years before the period of this history were known to
exist in eastern Utah ; on other streets the pavement was
covered with cement; in either case a hard, smooth, dustless
surface was produced, which under the rubber tires of the auto-
mobiles and bicycles remained for years as perfect as when first
laid. Along the borders of these streets and about the houses
were well kept lawns and rapidly growing young shade trees
in pleasing variety, while in the squares along the diagonals
of the blocks the lawns and walks were beautified with shrub-
bery which had already attained such a development that in its
varieties there were bloom and foliage to brighten every season.

These border lawns and trees were kept under the care of
the department of forestry, and the same men that cared for
them swept the streets and removed all fallen leaves or other
litter, a light task, since horses were never admitted into the
city excepting on one street only. This one street along which
horses passed daily was named Equestrian avenue. It extends
from the stables to the equestrian campus in Education park
parallel to Western avenue, but a mile to the north of that
dividing line, and this avenue was swept twice daily and thor-
oughly washed once a week.

Life in Fort Goodwill. 139

In the former epoch of horse traffic it was not realized how
great a deliverance awaited the world when the horse in every
day life should be dispensed with. The labor required to sup-
port and care for a horse was always greater than that required
to support a man, and in addition to this labor there was the
plague of flies and dust and dirt and odor forever hanging
round the haunts of the horse. In dispensing with horse traffic
and traction, at least one-third of the sum total of labor neces-
sary to maintain civilized life was dispensed with. And yet,
though this is the horseless epoch so long predicted, the time is
not in sight when the horse will be as rare as the elephant or
the giraffe.

There is very little traffic on the streets of Fort Goodwill,
the mail carriers in making their morning and afternoon de-
liveries use light automobiles, and they deliver any moderate-*
sized parcels which may be sent from the stores, with the mail.
Gas being the only fuel used in the city, not only is the atmos-
phere clear of smoke, but there is no coal to convey nor ashes
to remove. Since all food is received and prepared, and nearly
all of it eaten, at the public kitchens and dining rooms in the
corner buildings, the city is as clear of garbage as it is of ashes
and smoke. All scraps and waste portions of food are collected
at these great dining halls and conveyed to the poultry and live
stock department by a systematized service.

In these kitchens the food is cooked with economy and
skill in every style that fancy may call for; it is carried to the
tables by automatic waiters similar to some of the cash carrying
arrangements in use in large stores during the former epoch.

In the dining rooms, which are adorned with works of art
and palms and flowers, soft music plays while the people are
served.

140 Perfecting the Earth.

If, owing to the presence of young children or for any
other cause, any family prefers seclusion, an alcove is set apart
for them and sequestered with Japanese screens. When, how-
ever, any prefer to take their meals at their own homes, they
have but to announce that fact and give their order by tele-
phone, which, of course, no house is without, and at the time
appointed the desired food is delivered to them from auto-
mobile cars prepared for that purpose with hot and cold cham-
bers, and later another automobile calls and removes the
dishes and remnants of the meal.

In addition to the public dining rooms in the buildings on
the corners of the blocks, there is another system of restaurants
connected with the workshops in the industrial district, in
which each workman serving his eight-hour shift takes one
meal, and consequently in all industries that operate con-
tinuously through the twenty-four hours three meals per day
are served in these restaurants as in the general dining rooms.

Visiting one of these workshop restaurants connected with
the department of machinery, in which 4,000 men eat at the
same time, we see a great building 800 feet long with arched
roof of glass. On the side opposite the workshops this build-
ing is flanked by the kitchens, and on that nearest them by the
lavatories through which the men enter to take their seats at
the tables. In the daytime, when the light shining on the
arched glass ceiling would be too intense, it is toned down to
pleasantness by daintily colored screens and curtains, at night
the hall is brilliantly lighted by electricity. Along the center
of this hall is a long row of palm trees, and in the window bays
at the sides roses and tropical plants embower it in beauty and
verdure. Along either side of the center aisle, with its row of
palms, is a double row of tables, and over the aisles between the
rows of tables, is the system of mechanical waiters communicat-

Life in Fort Goodwill. 141

ing with the kitchens, which carries all food and returns dishes,
reducing the labor of the waiters to a minimum.

Ten minutes before a meal is served a signal sounds in the
workshops by an electric button, touched by the superintendent
of cuisine in the kitchen, which signals the machinery to stop
and calls all hands to the lavatories. Here the men wash and
remove their overalls. From the lavatories they march into the
dining hall, where on a balcony over the entrances, embowered
in tropical foliage and brilliant with flowers, a band of music is
playing a lively air with strongly marked time to which the men
instinctively keep step as they march to the tables. Here they
seat themselves in groups of ten at a table. Four hundred such
tables, arranged in four lines of one hundred tables in a line,
fill the hall, providing seats for four thousand workmen. Here
they are served with a meal as substantial as hunger could
desire and as daintily cooked as the most fastidious appetite
could wish.

Forty minutes are allowed for the meal, while soft music
by the band on the balcony permeates the hall, but does not
interrupt conversation in the least. Then another signal
sounds, the band again strikes up a march and the men return
to the lavatories, where they resume their working garb, and at
the end of ten minutes they are again at their places among the
buzzing machinery.

Everybody in Fort Goodwill uses the bicycle. Bicycle
paths, the easiest and chea'pest of all roads to make, have been
constructed far into the country in all directions ; into the wild-
est glens, up the sloping sides of the mountains, along the
banks of the canals, by the margins of the canyons, there is
nothing of wildness or grandeur or magnificence that is beyond
the reach of the bicycle. Bicycle excursions and picnic parties
go out frequently to lunch at interesting places ten, twenty,

142 Perfecting the Earth.

or even thirty miles distant, and the independent wheelman,
alone or by twos and threes, finds any point within ten or
twelve miles easily accessible after his daily eight hours of ser-
vice have been rendered. Certainly the invention of the bicycle
trebled the sum of human freedom. On bicycles, in all reason-
able weather, the children go to school, and the older people
many of them to their meals or to their work, to entertainments
or to lectures, though for these purposes automobile cars wait
on them in sufficient numbers to carry all who^e inclinations
lead them to prefer that mode of transit rather than the activity
which the bicycle implies.

Fort Goodwill is mostly a city of small houses, but with
the mode of life prevailing here, with no food to cook in the
houses and no kitchens, with all laundry work done in the
public service, with no ashes and no smoke, the labor of house-
keeping is almost nothing. Each house has hot water as well
as cold, this being supplied by a single gas burner running
in proper adjustment to a water tank, which is found amply
sufficient to supply a hot water service always ready for any
purpose in every private house. Fireplaces, arranged with
numerous jets of gas mingled with air in such proportions as to
give the almost invisible blue flame, heat every house in any
weather as warm as may be desired. These thin blue flames
shooting among plates and fringes of fire clay and asbestos,
heat them white hot and so give a brilliant fire as well as a clean
one, and one that is perfectly under control, as it can be turned
high or turned low at pleasure by the touch of a button, while
a flue above each such fire furnishes the most perfect and satis-
factory mode of ventilation that has yet been discovered.

These open hearth fires ! Since the days when the pioneer
rolled the huge backlog into the great mud-walled fireplace,
and sent the flame and smoke of his cordwood fire rolling up

Life in Fort Goodwill. 143

his great chimney of mud and sticks, to this last refinement of
fire without smoke or ashes, people have never ceased to take
pleasure in them, and poets have never ceased to sing their
praises. While hot air furnaces, and steam radiators, and air-
tight stoves have poured forth their heat without light, often
the memories of the aged have turned back with love and long-
ing to the open hearth fire and mourned its loss as they would
mourn a friend departed ; now it has returned with all its old-
time comfort and cheer, but minus all its old-time smoke, ashes
and dirt.

This gas fuel is most economical, too. The gasworks are
down in the industrial district, where there is use for all the
coke produced in manufacturing this gas, and where all the
spare heat generated about the gas retorts is utilized also.

By adopting this mode of heating the great city with all
its great industries is made, to the eye, as smokeless as a
meadow, and the dews of summer fall as sweet in the gardens,
and the flowers bloom as fresh and bright as in the fairest
islands of the sea.

But we have been considering the small individual houses
only. These form the greater part of the city, but not the
whole. For families with children single houses are a necessity,
but for childless people, of whom there are always many, and
of which class the parents of many children often come to be
when the children are grown, an isolated house is both lone-
some and wasteful. There was need in Fort Goodwill to provide
homes for pensioners from the army retired at the age limit, or
disabled by accident or disease, who were without relatives to
people a house with them. For these, blocks of apartments
with the conveniences of the best equipped hotels, were the
most desirable residences, and for their use many such build-
ings were constructed, affording by their size opportunities for

144 Perfecting the Earth.

the display of many features of architectural beauty which the
smaller houses did not permit, and relieving the city from the
sameness to which the great multiplication of small houses
might have tended.

To people visiting Fort Goodwill from the commercial
cities of the competitive world, its greatest peculiarity was the
absence of the business district. The great blocks of stores and
offices, which constituted the heart of every old-time city, were
without any counterpart or likeness here, and their absence
made the city seem to the old-time business man like a fine
residence district with the city left out altogether, and so it was
as the nineteenth century understood a city, but the people who
lived here were happy and free. The many occasions that
brought the people together here in large numbers extended
the circle of every one's acquaintance very greatly beyond the
possibilities of former conditions, and, notwithstanding the
eight hours of service per day required of every man, and the
four hours required of every woman, there was never before a
city whose people had so much of leisure as the people of Fort
Goodwill had, and among them all there was not one who was
poor, not one in want nor in danger nor fear of want.

There were among the population of Fort Goodwill several
millionaires, who for the sake of the peace and security and the
social and intellectual life which it offered, had accepted the
conditions required of the citizen tenantry and become residents
of the city. They had turned their property into gold, and
United States and municipal bonds, and other securities such
as would require no attention from them, and they imagined
that their holdings would give them some kind of social emi-
nence or distinction here. But in this they were disappointed,
without poverty they discovered that riches were without
power, the wealth, to accumulate which they had regarded as
the chief object of life, had become as worthless as the dead

Life in Fort Goodwill. 145

the chief object of life, had become as worthless as the dead
leaves of autumn. None were in need of anything which they
could supply, none would serve them for hire, and they were
no richer than their neighbors. They had become citizens of
Fort Goodwill, but they found that Fort Goodwill was like the
Kingdom of Heaven in that it was easier for a camel to pass
through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into
that citizenship. The man could enter, but when he had done
so, though nothing had been taken from him, he was no longer
rich, his gold and his bonds were but the pieces in a game
not played here, a game which, by the contrast existing be-
tween conditions here and former conditions where it was
played, he could not fail to perceive was most cruel and mur-
derously destructive to mankind.

Very soon the millionaires of Fort Goodwill discovered
that their wealth here had lost its power, it did not take them
long to perceive that its former power was but the power to op-
press, and they grew ashamed of the part they had played
with it.

But though the wealth which these millionaires held was
powerless here, it yet held power in the world at large, and',
having thoroughly learned the lesson which Fort Goodwill best
could teach to them and their class, they conferred with each
other, and uniting their means for that purpose they announced
to the managers of the industries in which they served, their in-
tention to return to the competitive world and use the wealth
which they held to hasten the overthrow of the competitive
system, by establishing co-operative communities near the cen-
ters of population whose industries and their remuneration
should be conducted on the Fort Goodwill plan. This they did,
and though other and greater factors were working to the same
end, which would have been accomplished even without their
aid, the institutions which they planted proved a notable factor
in wiping commercialism and the profit system off the earth.

146 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER XV.

The Board of Forestry is a branch of the service to which
allusion has several times been incidentally made, but whose
operations have not hitherto been particularly noticed.

This year, 1917, the nurseries in the Green River canyon
contained millions on millions of thrifty young trees now in the
third year of their growth, which though not yet so strong and
hardy for transplanting as they would be one or two years later,
were nevertheless fit for planting in favorable locations, and
which with suitable care in such locations would grow to
maturity even more quickly than if allowed to develop further
in the nurseries.

Accordingly, this year the force under the charge of the
Board of Forestry was quadrupled and a large area was planted
to forest trees, while a vastly greater area was prepared for such
planting in the following spring.

Like creatures of a higher order, trees, in order that they
may live and thrive, require a range of temperature within
suitable limits, water at such times that they can adapt their
active functions to its presence, food, of which the earth nearly
everywhere stands ready to furnish abundance, and alternating
periods of activity and sleep.

This last mentioned requirement of trees, though it applies
to nearly if not quite all plant life, is very often overlooked. In
the forest regions of the temperate zones, which, especially in
their polar halves, are the greatest wood producing regions of
the earth, the rains of spring and summer coincidentally with
the increasing warmth of the season, furnish abundant water to
supply the needs of the awakening activities of the trees, and
continue the supply through a season of warmth sufficiently

Operations of the Board of Forestry. 147

long to mature the growth of the season preparatory to their
annual sleep through the following winter. In the semi-arid
regions of northern Mexico, where the winters are not cold
enough to arrest the activities of tree life, where the months of
April, May and June are usually without rain, and, June es-
pecially, burning under a nearly vertical sun, the deciduous
trees, which here assume a low and scrubby habit of growth,
turn brown and shed their leaves in May. Through that month
and June and July, with their branches as bare of foliage as the
forests of the north are in the heart of winter, the trees take
their yearly sleep. The rains come on in July, continuing into
September, and saturate the earth. Then the trees awaken and
again put on their robes of green, the last part of July and
August is their spring, our autumn is their summer, and, favored
by the coolness of the season and occasional showers, though
these are not essential, the oaks on the mountains, the syca-
mores in the ravines, and the mesquites on the plains retain
their foliage in its lively green and mature their growth through
the winter. April is their autumn, and with the increasing dry-
ness of May they again go into their annual sleep. The con-
dition necessary to their life is that water and the temperature
suited to their growth should come to them at the same time,
which here they do during our northern fall and winter, the
trees adapt themselves to this condition, whether during their
period of sleep the cold of winter or the heat of summer pre-
vails matters not, they can accommodate their habits to either.
Here in Utah, however, while water enough falls during
the year to support forest life, it falls mostly during the winter,
while the cold makes it impossible for buds and leaves to push
forth, the drought of spring and summer prevents their devel-
opment then, and the result is that, except in specially favored
localities, this is a treeless country. For like causes the same

148 Perfecting the Earth.

is true of the plateaus of New Mexico and Arizona. The tree-
less condition of the greater part of Southern California is due
more to the greater aridity of the region and less to the rigors
of winter.

Here in Utah all that was necessary in order to permit the
earth to be clothed with forests was that the water, which in the
winter falls on these mountains and plateaus in the form of rain
and snow, and which melting in the spring immediately ran
away into the canyons, should be retained and applied to the
earth in the spring and early summer. Then the trees to be
planted would put forth their season's growth, maturing it as
the permissible dryness of the autumn increased, and be ready
for a vigorous new growth the following season.

Accordingly the ten thousand men, who during the pre-
ceding season had been employed in constructing reservoirs at
the heads of valleys in the mountains and uplands above the
level of the irrigating canals, were this season reinforced by
thirty thousand others employed in the same work. In prepar-
ing the ground on which to utilize the waters retained in these
reservoirs, of course no power system was needed, the old open
ditch and trench method of irrigation was followed, and
trenches once dug along the face of a slope, retaining water to
percolate down to the next trench below, could be left as a
permanent improvement, unfilled except as nature might fill
them. This mode of irrigation was aided by pipes to cross
ravines and surmount heights wherever their use was desirable.
On ground prepared in this manner trees were planted; as
nearly as convenient, at distances of ten feet apart each way.
Regularity not being necessary, some variation was permitted
in order to take advantage of the most favorable places in rocky
ground. This placed the young trees near enough together to
protect each other in some degree from the storms of winter

Operations of the Board of Forestry. 149

while they were young and small, while at the same time they
were far enough apart to permit them to grow to a useful size
before it would be necessary to thin them or they would begin
to crowd each other out.

The area planted during the first season in each valley was
limited to what could be watered abundantly, and with suffi-
cient frequency to insure the vigorous growth of the young
trees through the season. When the leaves had fallen they
were retained on the ground in greater and greater proportion
each year as the growth of the trees increased. From the first
they filled the irrigating trenches and covered the ground in the
hollows and sheltered places even on wind swept slopes, where
like a sponge they served to retain much of the water falling on
the spot during each succeeding winter and spring until it
could percolate into the earth. The roots of the young trees
at the same time spread wide and deep, and after the first year
it was found that fewer irrigations were needed to maintain the
trees in healthy vigor.

Thus it was found practicable year after year to enlarge the
area of timber watered from each such retaining reservoir, unlil
all the upland valleys and mountain slopes were covered with
forests.

The greater part of the ground planted to timber during
this season of 1917, however, was in the triangles formed at the
ends of the half-mile wide fields where, owing to the diagonal
course of the canal or canyon or other obstacle limiting the
length of the field, one border reached beyond the other, and
an area remained where, owing to the lack of one of the oppos-
ing power shafts, the machinery for plowing and sowing and
gathering the harvests could not be applied. This difficulty
could have been obviated by using short auxiliary lines of
power shafts, but for the sake of the beauty which the forests

150 Perfecting the Earth.

would give to the landscape, and also for the protection of the
fields which they would afford from the winds of winter it was
preferred to devote these triangles and canyon borders to tim-
ber. Here, of course, the irrigating mains supplying the fields
were available to furnish all the water needed, and on this favor-
able ground more attention was given to the landscape gar-
dener's art, in the selection of trees, than in the upland districts
remote from the centers of population, where the adaptation of
the trees chosen to the location in which they were planted was
the only consideration that needed to be regarded. The force
employed in planting the trees on these triangles was thirty
thousand men, not included in the force previously specified.
The total force employed under the direction of the Board of
Forestry was increased from year to year until the entire tree-
less region was clothed with forests. This was deemed of special
importance because it was confidently believed that with the
spread of the forests the rainfall throughout the arid region
would be greatly increased. It has increased to the satisfaction
of every reasonable desire, and in causing that increase the
work of the department of forestry has been a large factor, but
by no means the only one.

Lake Diaz. 151

CHAPTER XVI.

It was during this season of 1917 that work was begun

,»
also for flooding the depressed area in Southern California

lying to the eastward of the southern portion of the San Jacinto
mountains, and extending up the valley between that group
and the San Bernardino range.

This depression forms a geological continuation of the
Gulf of California. It owes its origin as a dry valley to the
Colorado river, which during geologically recent times has
carried down in its current the immense volume of material that
formerly filled the grand canyon as well as all tributary canyons
and valleys of erosion that, draining into the Colorado, were
carved out as the country through which it flows was slowly
uplifted. This material borne down the channel of the river
and poured into the gulf in the form of mud, sand and gravel,
completely filled it opposite the river's mouth, and for some
distance in each direction, excepting that the river maintained
for itself a channel to the gulf along the eastern border of its
delta.

The sand and gravel which the river continued to carry
into the gulf were thrown up by the waves and piled up in
dunes by the wind on the made lands previously formed, until
in many places these dunes reached a height of two or three
hundred feet, but, like dunes everywhere, alternating with de-
pressions reaching down to the water level, or even enclosing
hollows filled with water below that level, which would after-
ward be mostly filled with sand blown by the wind.

As this tract of made land grew opposite the mouth of the
Colorado river, the waters of the upper part of the gulf were

152 Perfecting the Earth.

shut off from the sea. Thus enclosed, under a tropical sun, in
a rainless region, it was inevitable that the waters enclosed
should in a very few years dry out, as they did, leaving a desert,
hot, dry and inhospitable to the last degree, in a depressed
valley which in its deepest part reaches a depth of 300 feet
below the level of the sea.

To refill this depression it was necessary to excavate a
channel, the greater part of which lay through Mexican terri-
tory. Accordingly, the consent of the Mexican Government
was sought permitting the forces under the command of
General Goodwill to excavate such a channel and providing
for its maintenance afterwards by the joint action of the govern-
ments of Mexico and the United States. This consent was
very cordially given. As a matter of courtesy in acknowledg-
ment of this concession, the privilege was offered to the Mexi-
can Government to name the body of water to be formed. This
privilege the Mexicans accepted and named it in honor of their
greatest president, Lake Diaz.

These preliminaries having been arranged and the line sur-
veyed along which the canal was to be excavated, in the spring
of 1917 a dozen powerful dredges were sent round into the Gulf
of California to proceed to the site fixed for the mouth of the
proposed channel and begin the excavation. There was no
such hurry to complete this enterprise as to make land excava-
tions necessary along the line of the channel, and the twelve
dredges were ranged side by side, each cutting fifty feet wide
and twenty-five feet deep below the water level, while the mud-
scows and tugs attending them carried the material which the
dredges removed away into the deep waters of the gulf. Thus
they cut a channel 600 feet wide and twenty-five feet deep as
they advanced. Four other dredges soon followed them to

Lake Diaz. 153

remove the earth which slid down the banks and keep in order
the channel which the others had made.

These dredges worked night and day, making progress
fast or slow, according to whether the land through which they
were cutting lay low or consisted of dunes piled high. A land
camp was established alongside of the work as the dredges ad-
vanced, which was connected by rail with San Bernardino and
New Utopia. This brought to the work prompt supplies of
whatever was needed for its unremitting prosecution, and on
the sixth day of May, 1918, thirteen months and ten days after
the dredging was begun, water began to flow back inland from
the gulf. The volume of this stream rapidly increased, spread-
ing widely over the sand as it flowed ; but two or three days
more of dredging caused the current to flow with such volume
that it scoured for itself a deep channel and it became necessary
for the dredges to drop anchors to prevent their being carried
away with it. This channel became so deep and broad that
within five days more the depression was filled and the flow of
water ceased.

The point in the Colorado river where this dredged chan-
nel begins is near its entrance to the gulf, and when the river
is low the water there is brackish, a mixture of river and sea
water; at the time when Lake Diaz was filled, however, the
spring flood was pouring down the Colorado and the fresh
water of the river displaced the sea water to a considerable
distance out into the gulf. So great, however, was the current
setting back into the depressed area that the river, though at its
flood, was reversed, and a large volume of sea water was drawn
in with it, so much so that the contents of the new lake from
the beginning were sufficiently salt to be suited to the propaga-
tion of oysters and salt water fish. Since this channel was com-
pleted the current of the river, diminished though it is by the

154 Perfecting the Earth.

diversion of its waters for irrigating purposes, is yet sufficient
to dilute the current setting into the new lake and prevent its
becoming a huge solar salt pan.

Of course the sand creeping into the new channel along
its sides, and the bar continually building across its mouth,
have made it necessary to keep dredges continually at work in
order to keep the channel open to the desired depth, especially
so since the purpose was to make the channel a broad one that
would ultimately maintain itself.

During the twenty-nine years that have elapsed since the
water was admitted to Lake Diaz, that channel has spread into
a strait half a mile wide. The sand yet creeps down its gently
shelving bottom from the shores, but slowly now, and it is not
necessary to employ more than three dredges to keep it open
to its full depth, where during the first four or five years a
dozen were needed to prevent its filling up entirely.

Lake Diaz now, though covering less than one-third of the
area from which in ancient times the gulf was barred out, has
nevertheless an area of more than 1,200 square miles. This,
through a geologic epoch has been as inhospitable a desert as
existed on the face of the earth. Until thirty years ago the
barren sands glowed and blistered there under the torrid sun,
there sand and dust storms were engendered so thick that day-
light could scarcely penetrate them, and so penetrating and all
pervasive that travelers passing by on the swift trains of the
Southern Pacific railway, in sleeping cars, closed as tightly as
possible against the dust, were yet at such times almost stifled,
their eyes, mouths and noses filled with dust, their seats and
beds like ash heaps, while they gasped in the dust laden air at
the temperature of 120 Fahrenheit. Where this was the picture
thirty years ago, now sparkling waves are dancing in the sun-
light, imparting coolness and life to the breezes that blow over

.Lake Diaz. 155

their surface. The white sails of a hundred pleasure yachts
flit over the green water, dainty fish are caught there sufficient
to supply the wants of a million people, and its oyster beds
yield the choicest oysters in the world.

Formerly the desert here repelled all atmospheric moisture
from its surface like a red hot stove, now the cool surface of
the lake, combined with other favoring conditions created since
Lake Diaz was filled, causes the precipitation of occasional
showers, and of heavy dews about its borders nearly every
summer night, while during the heat of summer every day it
pours into the atmosphere by evaporation water enough to fill
a lake a mile square to the depth of a hundred feet, all of which
is added to the amount that falls in other localities formerly
arid over which the summer breezes spread it.

156 Per feeling the Earth .

CHAPTER XVII.

During the fall of 1917 and the following winter the per-
fected industrial plants of Fort Goodwill, manned now not by
the army, but by the citizen tenantry, were putting forth their
normal product. The great steel works were sending to the
plating vats at San Bernardino from ten to twenty trains per
day loaded with structural steel which, copper plated as fast as
received, was piling up in the sunshine mountain wide if not
mountain high. Great reels of annealed nickel steel wire,
copper plated like the rest, were likewise accumulating in
quantities hitherto undreamed of. The lines of stone founda-
tions, which at our last account were sufficient, if massed to-
gether in the order of the plan, to have covered twenty square
miles of the four hundred and fifty included in the tract marked
out for them, had by the end of this year been carried to such
an extent that they covered one hundred and twenty square
miles of that area, and throughout the straight reach, extending
from the upper bend north of New Utopia, to the foot of the
San Bernardino range, they were completed and the working
force removed to other parts of the tract.

At the intersection of the northwestern border of the tract
with the coast line, near the point San Mateo, a great pier of
solid masonry was building on a point of rocks that projected
into the sea, and over which the waves dashed until they were
fenced out by the works. This pier was designed to be a
circular platform five hundred feet broad, of hewn stone fitted
into the bed rock, its sides slanting at an angle of thirty de-
grees, and its top finished at the height of ten feet above high
water mark. From the center of this platform a straight line

Progress at San Bernardino and at Vitre — ipi^-ip/^. 157

was surveyed tangent to the most projecting points of the
shore line and for nearly fifteen miles, excepting at these few
points of tangency, lying wholly in the shallow water of the
ocean's margin.

Along this line at this time preparations were making for
building other foundation piers at intervals of a quarter of a
mile, such piers being in the continuation of each line of
foundations embodied in the general plan. From the point
where this ocean front line intersected the shore line and passed
inland it was continued as one of the cross lines of foundations
to the southeastern margin of the tract, which by design it met
at right angles. From the pier that marked the point of de-
parture of this ocean front line from the sea, another line was
drawn, like the first tangent to the shore, but over the water,
to its intersection with the continuation of the southeast margin
of the tract, where another great pier was built similar to the
first, or San Mateo marginal pier. The interior lines of founda-
tions were laid out at right angles to the first, or San Mateo sea
tangent line, which made them also parallel to the southeastern
margin of the tract built upon.

Within the borders of the tract thus defined the work was,
during this winter of 1917-18, so far advanced that the whole
world was now convinced that the great work, whatever it was
to be, was to cover the entire tract, but as to its character and
ultimate purpose the authorities were as silent as the sphinx.

Meanwhile out on the northern margin of the Mohave
desert, the product of the great glassworks at Vitre was piling
up along the railway for miles on miles in the form of stacks
of unpolished plate glass slabs, each piece like every other,
rectangular, 25 inches by 10, half an inch thick, rolled with
bevelled margins. These plates were piled as high as the
strength of the material would permit without danger of frac-

158 Perfecting the Earth.

ture, each layer separated from the others by leaves of yuca or
Spanish bayonet, and of these stacks there were already
hundreds of thousands of cords.

It was as long ago as 1898 that liquid air was first demon-
strated to the world as a substance obtainable automatically in
large quantities and possessing qualities indicating that it might
become a source of power, taking the place which water filled
in the steam engine, but with the important difference that in
the liquid air engine the heat of the universe would serve as
furnace and fuel ; that on the coldest day in the coldest place on
earth with liquid air in the boiler there would be heat enough
and to spare to produce any amount of power. For, while
water boils at 212 Fahrenheit, and the heat available for power
in the steam engine must begin to count from that point as its
zero, liquid air boils at minus 312 Fahrenheit, and in the liquid
air engine all heat above that point must count on the scale as
available for power.

It was Charles E. Tripler, of New York, who, in 1898, after
a long series of experiments and researches, first published and
demonstrated so much as this. He thought he had the whole
problem solved ; that he could build and operate an engine that
would without fuel propel a ship at sea until her machinery
wore out, or run any kind or size of power plant without fuel
indefinitely. He did run with it the engine that he used in his
own laboratory, but, when the attempt was made to utilize the
discovery, practical difficulties that were hard and slow to over-
come stood in the way. The discovery was genuine, but when
it was attempted to operate an engine with liquid air in the
ordinary work for which engines are required, when the work-
ing parts of the engine must operate in a temperature such that
soft rolled iron would break in it like the most frangible of

Progress at San Bernardino and at Vitre — -1917-1918. 159

glass, in which the watery particles in the atmosphere would
congeal and smother the engine with ice, while the tempera-
ture of the engine was continually changing through a range of
more than 400 degrees, all sorts of breakages occurred, and
stoppages and annoyances were frequent of many kinds new
and strange. Hence, capitalists and users of engines, who were
disposed to let well enough alone, condemned the new power
and opposed its introduction.

Mr. Tripler yet lived, but his means were no longer
adequate to the prosecution of the researches needed to obviate
the difficulties in the way of the effective application of his
great discovery to the world's work.

However, with the incoming of the reform administration,
under which the utilization of the army had been undertaken,
certain officers of the government, recognizing the great bene-
fits to mankind which Mr. Tripler's discovery promised, found
a place for him and his work in an annex to the Smithsonian
Institute. There, for several years, without public mention,
without the world's attention having been in any way turned
to the matter, the researches and experiments needed were
carried on.

In the course of these researches a new department of
chemistry and physics had been developed. Of what could the
working parts of an engine best be made that must work in a
temperature in which iron and steel was so brittle that a light
blow would shatter it into a thousand fragments? If the tem-
perature of the whole engine could be kept within two hundred
degrees of the boiling point from which its power originated,
mercury would have been a promising metal to use in its con-
struction, but with the temperature of the earth ever encroach-
ing on such an engine to melt it into a fluid, of course that
metal was out of the question. Many new alloys and bronzes

160 Perfecting the Earth.

were discovered, and their qualities under extreme degrees of
cold ascertained. Various preparations of wood, horn, Indian
rubber and gutta percha were investigated, and every depart-
ment of the natural world ransacked to find or make a sub-
stance that should be strong enough and fine enough in texture
to make an engine that would give the power needed and re-
main unchanged through the great range of temperature to
which it must be subjected.

Having such an engine, with what could it be lubricated?
The fact that in its working parts all watery particles in the air
and all minute fragments of ice that might become detached
in the machinery would become like crystals of quartz, a source
of destructive friction, must be considered. All oils became
solids the moment they were applied to this engine. With
alcohol, naptha and most substances known to ordinary chem-
istry as liquids, it was the same, as also with the gases formerly
recognized as liquefiable. In this field it was that new dis-
coveries in chemistry were made, and out of this new chemistry
the suggestion of other orders of material being has grown.
The conditions of life have been generalized in the scientific
mind as lying within a range of temperature in which, while
various substances are solids to form a foothold and framework
for living things, one substance must exist in the liquid form,
in our order water, to serve the vital functions which water
serves, and another or other substances must exist in the
gaseous form to constitute an atmosphere. As in the existing
order an hydrate of oxygen in the liquid form is a fluid uni-
versally necessary to life, and dilute oxygen as a gas is the uni-
versally necessary atmosphere, so it has become thinkable that
an order of nature might exist in which silicate of oxygen, or
quartz, might take the place that hydrate of oxygen or water
takes in our order of the world, and perhaps mixed gases of

Progress at San Bernardino and at Vitre — ipi^-ip/^. 161

oxygen and hydrogen, now combined as water, might take the
place which oxygen and nitrogen takes with us. On the other
hand an order of material life is thinkable under conditions of
temperature in which hydrate of oxygen shall be a solid rock,
such as silicate of oxygen or quartz is with us, while our
atmosphere should be the water of that order, and some yet
more subtle and volatile gases should form its atmosphere. It
is along the line of variation of temperature only that one
such order passes into the other.

The Tripler liquid air engine overlaps two such orders,
working in the colder order to use the normal temperature
of the warmer as power. The steam engine overlapped two
such orders, working in the temperature of the existing world,
while it reached into the warmer for power. The advantage
of the Tripler liquid air engine, in that the normal heat of the
world is for it furnace and fuel, is immense.

After four years of research and experiment a satisfactory
liquid air engine was produced, but, while workable in engine
houses easily constructed anywhere, or in the open air for that
matter, it was found to give the best results if worked in a
chamber in which the temperature and atmospheric moisture
can be controlled.

And now just where power was most needed such cham-
bers were at hand to any extent that might be desired, in the
great catacombs of the San Jacinto mountains.

Not all of the immense quantities of stone used in building
the great system of foundation piers extending up the valley
of the Santa Margarita, from the ocean to the heights of the
San Bernardino range, had been taken from these catacombs.
Quarries had been opened in the Santa Ana hills, where suit-
able stone was found much nearer to a large part of the field of
operations, and also in the foot of the San Bernardino range,

162 Perfecting the Earth.

nevertheless by far the greater part of the stone used came from
the San Jacinto quarries, and the catacombs from which it was
taken had grown to be immense. Even at the time of which we
are now speaking a great city might have been built in them
if a race of troglodites had existed there to prefer such a site.
Indeed, the long lines of electric lights at the crossings of the
galleries, from the working faces of which stone was still being
taken as fast as ever, made these catacombs look like the streets
of a well lighted city on a dark night, with the difference only
that instead of buildings along the sides there was but a
monotonous succession of windowless square towers of solid
stone, and overhead, instead of a dark sky, there was the same
monotonous vaulted roof of rock.

In one of these worked out galleries a length of 840 feet
was now walled off from the rest, together with the square side
chambers formed by the crossings of six transverse galleries,
the whole forming a power house, consisting of a central hall,
840 feet long by 60 feet wide, with six alcoves on each side, each
60 feet square, and the whole 60 feet high. In these chambers
the temperature of the air was naturally constant, and its
moisture could easily be controlled. They were fitted up with
liquid air apparatus, engines and dynamos, capable of produc-
ing 500,000 horse power at the points of delivery, scattered
about the field of operations, at the average distance of twenty
miles from the generating chamber. And, of course, this plant
was capable of enlargement to any extent that might be desired.
Into these power chambers ran a two-foot water main to carry
cold water, for the purpose of cooling the air, which had been
heated by condensation under pressure, preparatory to its still
further cooling in the liquifying apparatus, and a yet larger
pipe, covered with non-conducting material, carried the hot
water out, thus conveying away the greater part of the heat

Progress at San Bernardino and at Vitre — 1917-1918. 163

abstracted to make the difference between the air at the tem-
perature of the chambers, 65 Fahrenheit, and at minus 312
Fahrenheit, its highest temperature in the liquid state, in a
manner similar to that in which the vapor had always been
chilled in the ammonia ice manufacturing apparatus, which
worked on the same principle, but preceded the liquid air
apparatus by several years.

This liquid air power applied to dynamos, and thus con-
verted into its portable form, electric power, supplied the great-
est need of this Southern California district. In the Fort Good-
will region the streams pouring down from mountain heights,
and the precipitous courses of the rivers above the level of irri-
gation, when properly fitted with water wheels and dynamos,
were sufficient to furnish all the puwer needed, but here in
Southern California nature had provided of water but a scanty
measure. Coal, too, in any sufficient quantities was far to
bring; nor was coal as a source of power ever a thing to take
delight in, from the mine to the ash heap it was always a blot
and a blemish on the earth, an enemy of beauty and a poison
to the atmosphere. No blessing so great was ever given to
mankind as when the liquid air engine dismissed coal as a
source of power forever. Coal we yet need, and use to produce
the gas with which we warm and brighten our homes when the
weather calls for fire, and as a chemical we still use it in our
smelting furnaces to take up the oxygen of the ore, but since
the electric smelting furnace has been perfected we no longer
use it there as a fuel, even in reducing the most refractory ores
of iron into the toughest wire or the finest steel. It needs a
practical knowledge of the former epoch to enable one to
realize from what an inferno of heat and cinders and stifling
gases the world has been delivered by this change.

164 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER XVIII.

And now on the long lines of stone foundations that had
so long been an enigma to the world, a forest of filigree towers
began to rise, filigree to the eye, but of enormous strength, with
every piece in the structure of each calculated to bear many
times the strain ever likely to come upon it. Along the border
foundations, 300 feet wide and solid to the rock ribs
of the earth, these towers blend at their bases, uniting their
strength in support of each other, but at a height of about 400
feet they separate. In the long straight reach on which the
foundations were first completed, and to which part of the field
during this season of 1918 the erection of superstructures was
limited, they rise to the height of 1,300 feet above their founda-
tions, or to be more exact, where the height of the foundations
varies, they rise to the height which will bring their tops, in
each line transverse to the tract, to a level at that elevation.

The towers on the intermediate lines of foundations are
columns rather than towers, forty feet square at their bases,
their feet resting on massive iron slabs centered five feet within
the borders of the foundation and at points five feet apart each
way over the base within the square drawn through these outer
borders, so that each such tower rests on eighty-one such mas-
sive legs, all braced together. At the height of 300 feet, and at
every succeeding 300 feet in its upward course, each of these
towers is braced at the corners to its neighbors in each of four
directions by tight drawn cables of steel wire, each strand of
which is copper plated. These bracing cables reach from the
three hundred feet level down to the foot of the neighboring
towers, and also across the space on the same level, while from
each higher level, where the bracing cables attach, they reach

Building the Great Fhie. 165

their neighboring towers at the level three hundred feet below
and also at the same level ; thus the strength of all contributes
to the support of each, and vertical pressure only needed to
be guarded against. In building these towers every rivet, when
properly tightened, was carefully brazed with copper, and each
tower when completed, covered with its copper plating, shone
like gold in the sunshine without a wound or a flaw to mar its
perfection.

Each of these towers when it reached its ultimate height
was capped with a saddle of steel like those which support the
cables in great suspension bridges, and ultimately above all an
ornamental cap of aluminum was to cover the structure.

While this forest of towers was rising, as the quantity of
structural steel required grew within measurable reach, the
work on annealed nickel steel wire in the Fort Goodwill iron
works was pushed forward the faster, and the quantity arriving
at the San Bernardino plating works grew rapidly greater.

As soon as a section of these towers half a mile wide across
the belt was completed, machines devised for that work were
set to spinning out of this wire great cables across the tops of
the towers from side to side, anchorages having been con-
structed for each such cable outside the line of border towers
at a distance from their base equal to the height of the tower.
These cable spinning machines ran on a light steel wire cable
that was first carried up and stretched across the top of each
line of towers to receive them while the power that operated
these machines, and the elevators and hoisting apparatus, and
transported all the material, was electricity generated by the
liquid air engines in the catacombs of the San Jacintos.

These cables when completed hung parallel to each other
exactly 264 feet from center to center, and a sag of 250 feet was

166 Perfecting the Earth.

allowed in each quarter of a mile stretch between the towers
on which each cable rested.

As soon as each of these suspension cables was completed
another cable considerably smaller was suspended horizontally
beneath it.

The height of these horizontal cables here, where the width
of the whole structure was five miles, was 1,056 feet, which is
one-fifth of a mile, making the area of the vertical cross section
of five miles width beneath it equal to one square mile.

In so great a work as building this structure all stages of
the process were going on at the same time. As soon as the
foundations were finished over a considerable section of the
field of operations the erection of towers began, but at that
time on a very great area of the ground to be covered the
foundations were not yet begun. The work of building these
towers lasted ten years, that is until the summer of 1928, but
the entire structure was finished that year within six months
after the last rivet was driven and brazed in building the last
tower.

When the towers were built over that part of the tract
which spread out to a greater width than five miles, they were
not made so high.

On the line of piers which formed the sea front overhang-
ing the waters of the Pacific, the towers were carried to the
height of 502 feet only.

When the suspension cables were laid across them, it was
done in seven sections, each three miles long, the cables being
anchored in the piers within the structure. Here as elsewhere
250 feet being allowed for sag between the towers, the height
of the horizontal cable was 252 feet above the foundations.
Two hundred and fifty-two feet is a few inches more than the
twenty-first part of a mile, hence, the opening beneath this

Building the Great Plue. 167

horizontal cable being twenty-one miles wide, the area of the
vertical cross-section beneath it, as before, equaled a little
more than 6ne square mile.

At the point where the distance from margin to margin is
ten miles, the height of the towers is 780 feet, which equals the
tenth part of a mile, 528 feet, plus the 250 feet for sag, with
two feet to spare, hence here as elsewhere the area of the ver-
tical cross section beneath the horizontal cable is a trifle more
than one square mile.

This, then, was the law of the structure, that it should be
so built that the area of its cross section below the horizontal
or floor cables should be not less than one square mile.

As the first suspension cables drew near completion, a
large force of men began to make of the steel, which had been
prepared for that purpose, an immense number of girders, each
composed of a straight top rail 264 feet long, flattened and
curved at the ends to form saddles to fit over the horizontal
cables, and a curved bottom rail bending downward in a bow
to the distance of thirty feet from the straight, or floor rail, this
also being curved at the ends to form the saddle, fitting into
the similar curve on the straight rail, to which it was firmly
riveted, and these two throughout their length were trussed
together by a lattice of steel strips riveted to the midrib or fin
which was rolled for that purpose on the top and bottom rails
of the girder.

Every part of these girders, of course, was copper plated
like the steel in the towers and the wire in the cables.

These girders, as soon as the cables were ready to receive
them, were hoisted to the horizontal cables and laid across the
intervals between them at the distance of forty feet apart, and
stayed one to the other with fine wire cable. To lie on these
girders, steel sash were prepared, each of which contained a

168 Perfecting the Earth.

gravity valve of one-third of its area, capable of yielding to
pressure from beneath and then dropping back into the general
surface, these valves themselves being of sash similar to the
rest. Each of these sash, twelve feet by forty in size, was
braced beneath in such a manner as to give it ample strength.
These sash were made with leaded beds fitted to receive the
glass plates which were piled up in such immense quantities in
the desert, and which were still pouring forth from the glass
works at Vitre in undiminished volumes.

Suspended on horizontal cables stretched along the sides
of the border towers were similar sash, but in these the gravity
valves constituted two-thirds of the area and were capable of
swinging either way. These were a precaution against the
pressure of hurricanes, which, against an unyielding surface of
so immense an area, might produce a pressure too great to be
sustained.

No sooner were these sash in place than workmen were*
employed in putting in the glass. This work was pushed for-
ward in such a manner that the mountain end was completed
first. The structure passing to the eastward of the isolated
summit of San Bernardino peak was carried up the side of the
great range to the height of 10,000 feet measured at the middle
height of the structure. Over this point, the square mile of
cross section being still preserved, the roof, floor, or ceiling,
whichever it may be preferred to call it, terminated in a strong
railing, while the side walls were carried on, tapering as they
advanced up the mountain until they terminated in points about
800 feet below the summit of the range.

Long before the structure had reached this stage of com-
pleteness its character and purpose had become obvious. It
was recognized as a flue, and had come to be known every-
where as the great rain flue of San Bernardino.

The Mount Ceres District. 169

CHAPTER XIX.

It was in the fall of 1918 that the great dam on the upper
Green river was finished and the collected waters of that
stream were turned into the main canal to flow on through the
tunneled canal, past the Green River highlands, and thence
thirty miles westward parallel to the canyon of the Prices river,
to a great reservoir which had been prepared in the upper
valley of that spring freshet stream to receive them. In this
reservoir the water is retained at the altitude of 5,250 feet above
the sea, and following the contour line of this altitude with
only just fall enough to give a gentle flow to the water con-
tained, the canal was continued southward, winding about the
base of the mountain swells, crossing the ravine of the San
Rafael river on a lofty aqueduct, on along the same contour
line of altitude, including several large storage reservoirs in its
course, until it led again to the neighborhood of the Green
River canyon, this time approaching this great ravine at a point
southwestward from the city of Mount Ceres and not far above
the junction of the Green and Grand River canyons where the
great canyon of the Colorado begins. In making this circuit
the canal encircles a tract of irrigable land much larger than
the entire Fort Goodwill district, but this, to the Green Rivei
canyon constitutes the western division, only, of the Mount
Ceres agricultural district. The canal, and reservoirs con-
nected with it, bounding this tract, were constructed before the
water was admitted to the Prices River reservoir.

The surface of this tract presents a greater variation of
level than that of the Fort Goodwill district, ranging, in fact,
through more than 1,200 feet, and to provide for its irrigation

170 Perfecting the Earth.

many secondary aqueducts were required, similar to that con-
structed in the first division of the Fort Goodwill district, also
many secondary reservoirs at different levels, but there was no
hurry now, as was necessary when that first tract was irrigated,
and the subsoil system of irrigation was here applied to every
field before it was plowed and sown. The water mains and
power shafts here were arranged in the same manner as in the
Fort Goodwill district, but here, while water power batteries
were built on all streams suited to receive them, the main
source of power was the liquid air engines acting on dynamos
through which their energy was transmuted into electricity.

Up the Grand river in Colorado another great dam and
canal were in process of construction, which was completed in
the following year.

This was located about twenty miles east of Grand Junc-
tion in Colorado, where it forms a reservoir from which the
waters of the Grand river are diverted at the altitude of 5,500
feet. Into this reservoir the waters of the Gunnison river also
were afterwards conducted from a dam located on that river a
short distance above Escalante. This not only utilizes the
surplus waters of the Gunnison in the Utah field, but also
provides for the irrigation of a large tract of land lying in the
angle between that river and the Grand river in Colorado.

The canal from the Grand River reservoir is conducted
along the mountain side on the right bank of the Grand river,
with just fall enough to give the current sufficient motion to
carry the stream at all stages of "flood. Where this canal
reaches the Utah line it has diverged from the canyon to a
distance of a little more than twelve miles. From that point
it takes a westward course across the peninsula included be-
tween the canyons of the Grand and the Green rivers, following
the base of the Brown Cliff mountains, along the north side of

The Mount Ceres District. 171

the broad plain which stretches entirely across the interval
between those canyons to the northward of the Mount Ceres
plateau. This canal provides for the irrigation of all this plain
which constitutes the eastern division of the Mount Ceres
irrigation district ; it also is provided with several large storage
reservoirs along its course, the last of which lies near the Green
River canyon. Into this reservoir a branch canal has been
conducted from the first basin on the outflow from the tunneled
canal, both these reservoirs being on the same level. This con-
nection crosses the Green River canyon on a fine aqueduct of
steel, uniting the eastern and the western divisions of the
irrigating district in such a manner that a surplus of wrater on
either side can be drawn across to the other, or a special de-
mand on either side can draw on both divisions for its supply.

The altitude of this entire district averages more than 500
feet lower than that of the Fort Goodwill district, a large part
of it lies at a level more than a thousand feet lower, constituting
the lowest land in Utah. It also lies from 120 to 150 miles
further south.

In its effect on the climate of a region a foot of altitude is
about equal to a mile of latitude, descent being equivalent to
southing; hence, between the Fort Goodwill district and this
the difference in climate is marked.

The Fort Goodwill district from its altitude is best fitted
for the products of the high north, wheat, barley, oats, the
grasses, and among fruits, apples, plums, cherries and currants,
while in this lower district corn finds its most congenial condi-
tions, and peaches, grapes, and the fruits of more southern
regions, thrive better and reach a higher degree of perfection
than in the Fort Goodwill district. Accordingly the orchards
which are planted in this district are mostly of this class of

fruits. See Map, Chapter SI.

172 Perfecting the Earth.

At this time the preliminary wqrk, which during the pre-
ceding twenty-eight months had been in progress preparatory
to building and peopling the city of Mount Ceres, was far
advanced. The mountain group, whose three great peaks
tower so grandly to the height of from 12,000 to 13,000 feet
just across the Grand River canyon to the southeastward of
the city, had been girdled with a canal intercepting all the water
precipitated on those heights arid the great mountain swell
from which they rise.

To reinforce this watershed area the wraters were collected
in a similar manner from the northern face of the Abajo — lower
— mountains, thirty miles further south, and from the highlands
intervening between the two groups. This doubled the area
of watershed from which the precipitation was collected
though the altitude of the supplementary area not being so
great it was not expected to double the water supply.

The whole tract, so far as the eye could see, was barren
and arid to the last degree, but when the waters precipitated
on this area during the year were collected in the lake prepared
to receive them, in which they were retained at a level a little
more than 6,000 feet above the sea, their volume was found to
be very considerable. This lake has an area of from sixty to
sixty-five square miles, according to the season, and its stage
of flood. It lies in a valley on the saddle of land between the
nearer group and the Abajo mountains. From this reservoir
the water is conducted to the Mount Ceres mesa in two seven
foot pipes, on an aqueduct crossing the Grand River canyon
at the height of nearly 2,000 feet above the bed of the river.
These pipes conduct the water to another reservoir on the
highest part of the Mount Ceres plateau, to which its admission
is regulated by float valves, and the supply is amply sufficient

The Mount Ceres District. 173

not only for the wants of the city but also to irrigate the mesa
abundantly.

This plateau or mesa having an area of about 350 square
miles outside of the city of Mount Ceres was, as soon as the
water supply was available, put under the charge of a detach-
ment of landscape artists connected with the board of forestry,
under whose direction the greater part of its area was planted
with forest trees.

On the city site on the northwestern shoulder of the
plateau, where the top of the mesa lies about 120 feet below its
general level, the ground had been surveyed and the city laid
out to the extent of twelve square miles, while the same terrace
afforded ample room for extending the city to three times that
area. In laying out the city of Mount Ceres, the same general
plan was followed as that which had proved so satisfactory in
Fort Goodwill, and during this autumn of 1918 the industries
needed for the welfare and comfort of the city, and for its
building, were established and equipped on the plain at the
foot of the mesa in convenient relation to the railroad. The
inclined plane elevators between this industrial district and the
city site above were made ample for every purpose.

During the following season, 1919, the city was built and
provided with every accommodation, both public and private,
to meet the needs of 100,000 people, and it was then peopled in
the same manner as Fort Goodwill had been peopled before it.

Mount Ceres, as its name implies, was designed to be
more distinctly an agricultural city than Fort Goodwill, and to
extend and perfect the irrigation and agriculture of their dis-
trict, and the lines of access to and from its remoter parts, was
from the beginning made the chief industry of its people, all
public services, schools and lectures being cared for in the
meantime as at Fort Goodwill and elsewhere.

174 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER XX.

The eight years following were occupied in the completion
of the works already inaugurated, while the people increased in
numbers and their institutions were growing in perfection.

By the time the great flue was completed, in the autumn
of 1928, the citizen tenantry had grown to number more than
three millions.

The enlisted men in the army proper were, of course,
retiring in constantly increasing numbers on the expiration of
their age limit, 50 years. And the privilege of membership in
the citizen tenantry being always open to such of the enlisted
men as cared to avail themselves of it, also caused the retire-
ment of a great number. Neither was death abolished, though
the death rate in the army at no time exceeded that in civil life.
To partially compensate for these losses recruits were accepted
in such young men as desired to enlist, of whom there were
always some, and at the time of the completion of the great
flue the army yet numbered more than 200,000 men.

With the perfect system of production and distribution
developed under military control and the wonderfully effective
machinery used, the eight hour day had been adopted for the
purpose of enabling one-fourth of the population between the
ages of 21 and 50 to supply all the consumable wealth of every
kind that the needs of the whole could call for, while the other
three-fourths were occupied in the creation of world improve-
ments not immediately productive of wealth nor contributing
to the needs of life. This it was found easy to do, and that with
lavish abundance. Surplus manufactures and products were
exchanged for every article of utility or luxury which foreign

Progress from 1920 to 1928. 175

climes or other conditions produced ; the wealth of sea and land
was poured into these commissary stores for the needs of all,
until all desire was satisfied.

The army was rich ; the citizen tenantry was equally so,
and a growing surplus was left every year unconsumed which
the management donated to meet the wants of the world at
large wherever want existed which that surplus could relieve.
To consume this surplus a larger portion of the people might
have been employed in covering with forests the arid lands not
devoted to agriculture, but even this work would in time be
completed and it was not thought wise to hasten it faster than
it was now progressing. Mankind, it was held, did not live in
order that work might be done, but work was to be done,
rather, in order that the conditions might be such as best to
promote human happiness, that human beings might live and
accomplish the highest purpose of their existence, namely, their
education and growth in right character.

Accordingly, when it was found that from the work of one-
fourth of the population unused wealth was continually accu-
mulating, though the people had in their credits power to
withdraw the whole of it, the eight hour day was reduced to
six hours, and to meet any deficit in the commissary depart-
ment that might result from this reduction, the wealth produc-
ing force was now recruited from those employed in construc-
tive works. This might well be done since more and more of
these works were drawing toward completion. The working
time of those employed in constructive works, the army proper
as well as the citizen tenantry, was, of course, reduced at the
same time and to the same extent as that of the productive
industries. The first reduction of the hours of required labor
occurred in 1924, four years before the completion of the great
flue.

176 Perfecting the Earth.

The minds of these people had at this time been illumi-
nated and their tastes cultivated by the constant and systematic
attendance on the daily lectures, and by the remarkably effi-
cient schools within whose circle of influence they lived, and
now with this increase of leisure there was a remarkable in-
crease of attention to the fine arts, painting, sculpture, archi-
tecture, landscape art, music, and the drama, literature and
philosophy, all these sprang up and flourished among the
people in a manner new to the world's experience.

Whoever had any bent in any of these directions now
found opportunity to indulge that bent, and the flood of talent
that sprang out of it was a surprise to the world.

The example of these millions, while drawing tribute from
none, becoming not only self supporting but rich, and not only
rich but cultured, banishing poverty altogether from among
them and at the same time becoming a people of leisure, dis-
tinguished for their intelligence, the breadth of their knowl-
edge, and the acuteness of their perceptions and understanding,
and also for the elegance of their surroundings and the refine-
ment of their lives, this example was not lost on the world at
large. Very early, as was noticed, the operations of the army
put an end to capitalism in the field of coal mining. The con-
tact of the government railroads, built in connection with the
various operations in which the army was employed and
rendering their services at cost, with the privately owned sys-
tem taxing the public what the traffic would bear, also
increased the demand everywhere for public ownership of rail-
roads to such an extent that it could not long be resisted.

In response to this demand the capitalists sought to unload
their railroads on the nation at the value at which they held
them, based on the sum they had been able to extort from the
people for their services.

Progress from 1920 to 1928. 177

But to this proposition the people said, "no; we will build
our railroads, or if we buy any we will pay no more for them
than it would cost us to build them," and a few trunk lines
built by the public and operated at cost, parallel to the main
lines of traffic, very quickly let the water out of the values at
which the railways had been held to such an extent that the
capitalists were willing to drop their holdings for much less
than it would have cost to build the system anew.

Similarly, the object lesson which the citizen tenantry
afforded of towns prosperous and happy, from which want and
the fear of want had, by systematic co-operation, been banished
altogether, although three-fourths of the consumable wealth,
produced by only one-fourth of the working force, was avow-
edly taken to support the other three-fourths of the force who
contributed nothing to its production, so increased the restless
impatience of the people at large with the poverty and depend-
ence which they had inherited, that legislatures, courts and
municipal councils began to yield to the pressure and authorize
public workshops and public stores.

The referendum and iniative on local measures, with local
self government, became the law everywhere, and towns and
cities were no longer forbidden to do for their people anything
which any man or association of men might lawfully do. And
these rights were extended to country townships also. With
the doors thus thrown open to public self help, and the brilliant
example of the military cities of Utah to point the way, growth
in public co-operation was rapid. Here and there a city or a
town opened public store houses and started public industries
to stock them, distributing the goods on credits for labor. This
relieved the laboring poor in these towns of all anxiety in
regard to continuance of employment, and of all fear of want ;
they were now able to work for themselves and enjoy the full

178 Perfecting the Earth.

equivalent of the product of their own labor, and other towns,
in order to retain their population, were compelled to follow
suit. Of course, as fast as such public co-operation was estab-
lished the profit system both in merchandise and manufactures
vanished. No one would pay a profit for what he could get
at cost.

And the banking system and the landlord system vanished
with the profit system, the landlord being taxed out of existence
by the plan proposed by Henry George, and profit, rent and
interest were dead.

Thus, while the co-operative order was perfected under
government control on the arid lands of the west, the nation at
large followed the same road only a little way behind; other-
wise the people would have so pressed and crowded into the
citizen tenantry that the new domain would have been overrun
and the old seats of wealth and power left a desert.

The Great Flue and New Utopia. 179

CHAPTER XXI.

At last in all that concerned its functions the great rain
flue stood completed, but the resulting phenomena were a sur-
prise to its builders and to the world. It had been calculated,
and correctly, that with the sea breeze for its initial impulse,
aided by the expansion of the air as it ascended inside the flue,
a continuous current of air must flow through it from the
ocean's surface to the mountain's top ; that the air gathered
from a belt of ocean's surface twenty-one miles wide in this
latitude would at all times carry a considerable river of water
which must be precipitated at the top of the San Bernardino
range, or before reaching that altitude, and this also had been
calculated correctly. Nevertheless the result was not precisely
what had been expected.

Instead of perpetual rains at the mountain top, a blast of
arctic coldness densely loaded with powdery snow was the
result, and to the surprise of all the savants who had considered
the plan and pronounced it sound, a glacier was gathering with
unprecedented rapidity on the heights of the San Bernardino
range.

It had been calculated, and correctly, that as the altitude
increased and the atmospheric pressure diminished the volume
of air contained in the flue would be increased, and that with
that increased volume the velocity of the current must increase
in like proportion.

It had also been calculated that as the pressure diminished
and the volume of the contained air increased its temperature
must decrease; that at the outlet of the flue where the baro-
metric pressure is approximately twenty inches when at the sea
coast it is thirty, the volume and velocity of the current would

180 Perfecting the Earth.

be to its volume and velocity at the entrance as three is to two,
and that, conversely, the temperature at the summit must be
to the temperature at the entrance as two is to three, or two-
thirds of the seacoast temperature, and this calculation, too,
was correct.

And yet the blast of air escaping from the outlet of the
great flue was vastly colder than had been anticipated. Where
was the error?

Simply this ; the savants had not located the zero point of
the thermometer in the right place. It had been recognized
that the Fahrenheit thermometer in common use in the United
States was arbitrary and unscientific ; the centigrade thermo-
meter, however, having its zero point at the freezing point of
water and its hundredth degree at the boiling point, was
assumed without question to be natural and scientific, and all
calculations had been made with reference to that.

The centigrade thermometer is natural and scientific for
water, as a water thermometer it is without reproach, but we
are not fishes, air and not water is the fluid in which we live
and to which our thermometric standards should apply. The
true zero point of a thermometer is not the freezing point of
water but the boiling point of air, and that, as we have pre-
viously had occasion to notice, is at minus 312 degrees
Fahrenheit. Hence, when at the entrance to the great flue the
temperature by the common thermometer is 80 in the shade,
about the average daytime summer temperature, that tempera-
ture is, when scientifically stated in the same degrees, 392, and
at the outlet of the flue, the air being neither warmed nor
cooled, with the temperature unchanged except by expansion,
under a pressure two-thirds of that at the entrance, the tem-
perature will register two-thirds of 392, that is 2611/3°.
Translating this again to the Fahrenheit scale it reads minus

The Great Flue and New Utopia. 181

512/3°. That is the temperature of the atmosphere which
under a barometric pressure of thirty inches reads 80°
Fahrenheit, under a barometric pressure of only twenty inches
reads 51 2/3° below zero. This sufficiently accounts for the
arctic blast and the growing glacier at the mountain's top ; it
also throws light on the low temperatures prevailing at high
altitudes. As a matter of fact, however, we do not in nature
find temperatures so low as 512/3° below zero at twenty
inches of barometric pressure, corresponding to 80° in the shade
at thirty inches, and from this fact the statement of the old
meteorologists that the sun's rays had very little heating power
on the higher layers of the earth's atmosphere, but developed
that power mostly on the earth's surface, has been reversed,
and it is recognized that the sun's rays on the ocean of atmos-
phere that envelopes the earth, as truly as on the ocean of
water, act most intensely on the superficial portion of it, and
the deepest or lowest strata are really the coolest.

During the years spent in building the great flue the forces
employed in building it were housed comfortably but tempo-
rarily in such manner as was found most convenient. Mean-
while the site laid out for the city of New Utopia had become
a very beautiful as well as a very extensive park. Lying at the
mountain's foot, there was in it enough of broken ground and
rocky ravines to afford abundant opportunity for scenic effect,
ranging from the most peaceful beauty to the wildest grandeur.
By all the artists employed in the service and all the amateur
talent which such an enterprise naturally enlisted, the site of
the city of New Utopia had been treated as the canvas of a
painter or the marble of a sculptor. Every suggestion tending
to enhance the beauty of any part of the growing city, or to
increase its convenience or the comfort or welfare of its inhabi-

182 Perfecting the Earth.

tants, was given consideration, and out of the multitude of
counselors came wisdom, for every idea of merit found cham-
pions, and the overwhelming influence of any single person
was prevented. Slight errors had been made, but the deliberate
method adopted, the plans of every building pictured in rela-
tion to its surroundings being open for public inspection for
six months at least before its construction was begun, allowed
such errors to be detected and corrected with the slightest of
loss.

And now, among groves of thrifty young trees, and adorn-
ing the loveliest of vistas, groups of noble buildings have
arisen. Great hotels or apartment houses are numerous, built
with all the graces of architecture, providing for those that
dwell in them all that could promote comfort or gratify good
taste, all harmonious in the fitness of every part to its reason-
able uses. In these buildings, served with every possible com-
fort or convenience, veterans are housed who have retired from
the army on the completion of their fifty years of age.

Many of these buildings are connected by artistic corridors
with each other, and with dining rooms, music halls and
libraries, while all about them are lawns and groves, parterres
of flowers and shrubbery, and curving ways along which course
the silent motor carriages and bicycles flit to and fro.

In these great palaces every family and every inmate is
provided with the strictest privacy as well as the conveniences
of association, and the dignity and magnificence of habitation
which could be attained in large buildings only.

But in due proportion, to give variety to the whole, to
prevent the architectural merits of any building from being lost
in a crowd of other buildings of equal size and equal excel-
lence, as well as to suit the taste of such as prefer the seclusion
of a house wholly their own, there are many small cottages,

The Great Flue and New Utopia. 183

little gems of art, so grouped and placed that their inmates
may, equally with the inhabitants of the more pretentious
buildings, enjoy every convenience of the public services, heat-
ing and cooling, for every apartment is furnished with cold air
from the liquid air engines, lighting and water, dining halls,
libraries and all other felicities which art could contrive or
reason desire.

At every turn, down vistas giving all that could be wished
in the way of foreground setting, whose only imperfection was
the fact that all the trees were yet young, an imperfection that
time and care would rapidly correct, distant views appeared,
the beauty and grandeur of which could be equalled nowhere
else on earth.

Yonder, a little to the east of north, is the great range of
San Bernardino, crowned with its ever growing glacier, shin-
ing, glistening, golden white in its high lights, tinted with lilac
on its snowy slopes, deepening into purple and indigo and
ultra-marine in its shadows, capped with its heaped up cloud of
driving snow where the great flue is pouring out its arctic
blast ; that cloud itself in its cumulous mass shining and tinted
with lights and colors comparable only to those on the visible
glacier, but ever changing in form and features ; the base of the
great glacier edged about with dark based clouds where the
warmth of the plain and the frost of the glacier meet, seeming
to lift the shining glacier and its cap of shining cloud high into
the sky, while dark beneath this cloudy canopy the base of the
mountain appears in the deepest of purple.

This alternation of mountain base, cloud, and glacier,
exaggerates to the eye the altitude of the range, producing an
appearance of loftiness which Chimborazo or the Himalayas
can scarcely equal. The brilliant display of colors is an atmos-
pheric effect peculiar to these semi-arid regions, developed by

184 Perfecting the Earth.

distance, and changing with the season, the weather, and the
time of the day. Between the eye and this glorious mountain,
and stretching across the plain from the north to the west and
the southwest, the great flue is seen. The eye ranges over its
surface toward the west and southwest where it appears, broken
by the sag of its suspension cables into waves like the waves of
the sea, but such waves were never seen on any sea, being a
quarter of a mile from crest to crest and two hundred and fifty
feet high from the trough to the foaming comb, for the shining
white of the aluminum caps of the towers simulate the appear-
ance of a foaming wave crest to perfection. Below this wave
covered expanse, and toward the north along the higher por-
tion of the flue's extent, rising between that expanse and the
eye, stretches the cliff-like wall of the flue, broken by the
tracery of the external portions of the supporting towers,
softened into mellowness by the distance. The whole mighty
structure appears to taper out as it recedes in the distance,
passing through the cloud canopy about the middle height of
the mountain yonder up and up to the shining cloud that caps
the shining glacier.

On the other hand, toward the west, where the wave
spread expanse of the roof of the great flue opens out like the
sea, over all is seen the shining waters of the Pacific Ocean,
with the dark masses of the Santa Ana hills rising like an island
above the waves on the right.

Further toward the south the swelling foothills of the
San Jacinto group, now clothed with forests, sink away to the
sea, while from the south, round by the east to the northeast,
the nearer masses of the San Jacinto mountains, seamed with
canyons buttressed with towering cliffs, bristling with rocky
pinnacles, swell up toward the sky.

The Great Fine and New Utopia. 185

The slopes and swelling shoulders of these mountains are
now clothed and beautified with groves of trees and thick
growing shrubbery, interspersed with openings, on which the
semitropical growths native to the mountains of this region
display their characteristic forms. On these terraced shoulders,
lifted above the spires of somber pine thrust up from dark
gulches beneath, are nodding groves of plumy palms. Yonder
frowning battlements are bristling with the stiff, sharp-pointed
blades of the Spanish bayonet, yucca grandiflora, each leaf of
which is capable of serving as a bayonet in fact, and the branch-
ing palmeas of the Mexicans, each growing point of which is
a bunch of long sedge-like blades at the end of a pole, with a
long panicle springing from its heart which in its season is
filled with innumerable delicate greenish yellow flowers. And
the prickly pear cactus finds its home there, covering rocky
ledges in 'the spring with yellow roses, every rose of which has
its many thorns and great And there are acacia bushes of
many kinds, some flaming with brilliant flowers of scarlet and
orange in their season, and there are clustering shrubs, smooth
leaved and smooth stemmed, which bear through the summer
clustering racemes of large, trumpet-shaped yellow flowers,
sweet scented and lined in their throats with delicate stripes of
satiny brown. And about the lower slopes the rocks and
shrubs are thickly tangled with climbing vines which all
through the summer are filled with masses of brilliant rose-
colored flowers in drooping racemes ; these are straying varie-
ties found here that have their habitat more especially farther
south in the Mexican uplands, but here their presence gives
greater variety to the numberless other flowers for which Cali-
fornia is noted.

The verdure of these northern and northwestern aspects
of the mountains in these latitudes is naturally greater than

186 Perfecting the Earth.

that of their southern faces, and here it has been greatly
increased by the protection which it has had in recent years
from browsing cattle, and by the retention of the water in the
ravines, so that now every rocky cliff is fringed with green.
Over the brims of yawning chasms peep the tops of mountain
pines, and groves of oak with their leaves all fresh and green
through the winter months cover the slopes, while here and
there along the ravines and among the crags of precipitous
ledges the feathery plumes of the mountain bamboo crowd
thick and close, and we have the luxuriance of the tropics
mingled with the flora and sylva of the north.

Such are the scenes that form the background visible from
every part of N^w Utopia, now appearing through a lovely
vista, now disappearing behind some nearer scene of beauty or
magnificence, changing with every change of position.

In the country lying round about the desert is vanishing.

The great rain flue has proved a great snow flue, rather,
but it has served its purpose the better for that reason. Before
the great flue was completed, the San Bernardino range had
been girdled with a great intercepting canal just above the
three thousand feet contour line, with receiving basins in all
the ravines above. This canal is built in the strongest manner
possible ; at every point where a break might possibly occur
it is of solid masonry laid in cement. Beginning at the south-
west side of the great peak, just above Redlands, and passing
under the great flue, this canal skirts along the mountain
toward the southeast with a fall of three feet to the mile ; pass-
ing over the plateau in which the mountains terminate at the
southeastern extremity of the range, it continues its course
back toward the northwest along the north side of the range.
Just across the mountains from the point of starting, where
the ravine formerly known as Deep creek is reached, a great

The Great Flue and New Utopia. 187

basin has been constructed of enormous strength and depth,
and this valley is now occupied by a lake, quite small in area,
but ample to regulate the flow of water into the system of canals
and aqueducts which take their departure from this point to
water the plain over which the deadly Mohave desert has
spread for unnumbered ages. And for this purpose there is
water enough, and enough is drawn from the girdling canal to
water all the valley between the San Bernardino and the San
Jacinto mountains, and to make meadows and gardens of all
the slopes down to the borders of Lake Diaz.

And the upper atmosphere being chilled by the glacier
and by the arctic blast from which the glacier springs, the
rainfall in the San Jacinto mountains has doubled, and every
height from Mexico to Montana registers an increase. The
new planted forests play their part in promoting this humidity,
especially by retaining it on the heights in the sponge of their
fallen leaves until it percolates into the earth ; and as a conse-
quence, new springs are appearing everywhere, and the arid
region has passed away to be known no more, so long as man
shall lend nature his assistance to beautify the earth and
perfect it.

Yet it is not by rains and showers that this increased
humidity is distributed. For ten months of the year, over all
the lower plains of this formerly arid region, almost no rain
falls, and if water were not conveyed to the fields through the
irrigating mains every crop would perish and every vine and
fruit tree would die.

188 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER XXII.

But we have departed from our survey of New Utopia, in
order to glance at the changes that have occurred in the
country round about.

Let us return. When we wander among the groves and
pavilions that now adorn the shoulders and terraces of the
San Jacinto mountains, to which we may climb or ride as suits
our pleasure, from whence the New Utopians, and all who
come and go, look down on the earth and the ocean and the
glories thereof, along the borders of their dark abysses, ren-
dered darker and deeper to the eye by the thickets of pine
rooted in their crevices, that thrust up their sombre spires
toward our feet, or along the railed edges of frowning preci-
pices from which we watch the birds sailing away beneath us,
we may remember that "the earth is hollow where we tread,
although it gives no sound."

Let us survey the catacombs, in the deep recesses of which
the storehouses and the granaries and the power works of New
Utopia are all hidden away.

Applying at the office of the custodian of stores for a guide,
a man is sent with us, and we are led to one of the main
entrances of the catacombs. This great entrance, sixty feet
high and sixty feet wide, is now built up into an artistic portal
crowned with a massive coping wall to protect the approach
from anything which might slide down the mountain from
above. At either side of this portal rises a tall column with
its base and capital artistically proportioned. Above, a graceful
arch springs across, its crown rising nearly to the top of the
gallery within. The keystone and bases of this arch are carved
with appropriate figures in high relief.

The Cellar of New Utopia. 189

Level with the bases of the capitals of the columns, thirty-
three feet above the floor of the entrance, an enamelled metallic
moulding1 stretches across, behind which runs a track for slid-
ing doors. These doors are thirty-three feet high and each
fifteen feet wide ; the recesses into which they slide are paneled
and ornamented with figures in relief adapted from mythology,
appropriate to the uses for which the chambers within are
designed. The doors themselves, which are of enamelled
aluminum, are appropriately ornamented in flat relief.

The space within the arch above the doors is filled with a
stained glass window, in sections radiating like the petals of a
sunflower whose perimeter corresponds with the curve of the
arch. The central petal is adorned with the traditional sheaf,
while the figures in the stained glass of the rest of the window
are of fruits and foliage, so arranged as to produce a very
pleasing and artistic effect.

In the pavement, passing under the doors, is a double
railway track.

Our guide, stepping to a post by the wayside, touches a
button, and the doors slide noiselessly back into their recesses.
Passing within, another button is pressed and the doors as
quietly close behind us.

The first part of the chamber within is flooded with light
from the stained glass window, but in the gloom beyond we
see a line of brilliant electric lights each suspended under the
groined arch formed by the crossing of a gallery transverse to
the one we have entered and along which we are looking, they
fade away in the remote recesses of the catacombs to imper-
ceptible points in the dim distance, like the remote lights on a
long street in a well lighted city.

As we pass along, similar lines appear on the right and left
on the cross streets, and in the pavement at our feet is a double

190 Perfecting the Earth.

track of steel as if for street cars, but overhead is nothing but
the interminable succession of rough arches of the quarried
rock.

After passing the second block, we discover that alternate
passages are walled up in such a manner as to convert them
into chambers, each of which is in the form of a Greek cross,
like the nave and transept of some ancient cathedral. Each
such chamber may be regarded as composed of five separate
square parts, each sixty by sixty feet in dimensions.

These are the storage chambers, each of which is fitted up
to suit the purpose for which it is used, whatever that purpose
may be.

Our guide touches a button and a door of ordinary size
slides open and admits us into a passage within one of these
walled off chambers.

This passage is barely four feet wide by seven feet high,
enclosed on the right and left and overhead with galvanized
iron.

This passage leads directly to the center of the block,
where it opens into a chamber of galvanized iron twenty feet
square, with walls forty feet high. A similar passage opens
into this chamber on each of its four sides; in its center is a
spiral stairway surmounted by a platform fifty feet above the
floor, that is within ten feet of the roof, and above this platform
an electric light is suspended. We mount to this platform
and perceive that the four wings of this block, together with
all the central part except the pit through which we have
entered, has been converted into bins, whose floors and sides
are lined with galvanized iron, to keep the contents of the bin
from the wall of rock. The bottom of each of these great bins
slopes toward the outer front, where a line of elevators, corre-
sponding with a similar line on the outside, serves to remove

The Cellar of New Utopia.

191

j •

CATACOMBS- Me

The Cellar of New Utopia. 193

the grain and load it on cars outside, or working the other way,
to remove it from cars and fill the bin very quickly. This
machinery, of course, is operated by electric power.

We notice that, rising from the floor of these bins to the
level of their top, that is forty feet, are rows of vertical rods or
pipes linked together at the top like the pipes in steam radia-
tors.

Our guide explains that these pipes connect with the
exhaust from the liquid air engines. "We can," he said "reduce
the temperature of the contents of any of these bins when filled,
within an hour, to 200 below zero, or much colder if desired.
Of course, no living thing can long survive in such a tempera-
ture. With this arrangement we need fear no weevil, nor rats
nor mice either. But," he continued, "wheat that has been
long subjected to these extreme cold temperatures will not
grow. Of course, every seed capable of growth is a living
thing. Dry seeds, like wheat, will bear cold that nothing with
animal life in it can survive, even the temperature of liquid
air for a while, but if long continued this extreme cold is as
destructive to the vitality of seeds as heat would be if we should
roast our grain brown. It doesn't hurt the grain, however,
for food, if it is kept at 300 below zero for any length of time."

"But how about your seed grain?" we ask. "Oh, yes;
this granary is so excellent that seed wheat from all the irri-
gated region is sent here for storage. WTe have four or five
millions of bushels of it stored here every season. It will stand
a pretty wide range of temperature, as everybody knows,
enough so to permit us to protect it from vermin, but we don't
freeze it to death, of course. The natural temperature of these
chambers is about 65 Fahrenheit the year round, but we find
that the vitality of seed wheat is stronger and will last longer
if the grain in storage is kept at a temperature of from 36 to

194 Perfecting the Earth.

40° from the time of harvesting to the sowing, and it costs
nothing to regulate the storage bins to that temperature. The
same temperature is right for keeping apples, potatoes and
most articles which need to be kept cool without being frozen.
We have in these chambers a hundred blocks fitted up for the
preservation of fruit, potatoes, and vegetables, under cold
storage, and as many others for the preservation of fresh and
salt meats, of which we keep the former frozen hard. Every-
thing that would tend to mar the beauty of the external world
which can be adapted to these chambers we do here, but their
capacity is not one-half utilized."

But we will return to the sunlight.

New Utopia, of course, has some industries that can not
be carried on in the catacombs; for instance, the live stock
department.

Without fresh milk and butter, no possible beauty of sur-
roundings could make life wholly satisfactory to the people,
and accordingly there is a dairy establishment here of sufficient
magnitude to supply all present needs and capable of indefinite
enlargement.

The barns and exercising ranges here, and the system of
caring for the cows, being a repetition of the same in Fort
Goodwill, need not be described. They are situated on the
divide, some fifteen miles northeast of New Utopia center, that
is five miles beyond the border of New Utopia at the canyon
of the San Jacinto river, for the city park covers the whole
plateau above the two thousand feet level from the San Jacinto
river to Coahuila creek, about twenty miles by fifteen.

The fertilizer works, the sewage evaporating reservoirs,
and all lines of industry naturally associated with these are ten
miles farther, being below the 2,000 feet level on the east side

The Cellar of New Utopia. 195

of the divide. It is only a thirty minutes run, however, to
reach this point from the city center on the electric railway.

The great intercepting sewer, which with its accompany-
ing subway was the first work undertaken toward building the
city of New Utopia, has its outfall basin just across the canyon
of the San Jacinto river over which it is carried on a beautiful
bridge. From this basin the sewerage is lifted by pumping
works about 150 feet to enable it to flow across the divide to
the eastward, the conduit which carries it serving the needs of
the dairy and stock district and the outlying industries in its
course. The hundred and fifty square miles or thereabouts of
nearly level land that constitutes the divide and its eastern
slope down to the 1,000 foot level, excepting so much of it as is
occupied by the dairy and live stock district and the industries
mentioned, is put under power after the manner of the Fort
Goodwill and Mount Ceres agricultural districts in order to
devote it to grain and forage plants for the stock.

Below the 1,000 foot level on this eastern side of the divide,
down to the margin of Lake Diaz, the land is planted with
oranges and other tropical fruits. There are localities here
suited to the cultivation of bananas and even pineapples, and
of malaga grapes and other delicate and subtropical varieties
there are extensive vineyards.

It is intended to produce here as much of this class of
fruits as the entire population of the irrigated lands can con-
sume, and perhaps a considerable excess for the world at large,
while of apples and other northern fruits the Fort Goodwill
district will produce enough for all, and the Mount Ceres dis-
trict will provide the peaches, pears and northern grapes. The
grain and forage fields of this district can, of course, be rein-
forced to any extent needed from the desert lands lying north
of the San Bernardino range.

196 Perfecting the Earth.

The territory lying west of the great flue is not in the
domain of New Utopia, being reserved for San Bernardino,
Redlands, Los Angeles, and the older towns and cities.

The land lying between New Utopia and the foot of the
great flue, also the western face of the San Jacinto mountains,
and from their foot to the sea, being rugged, is devoted to
timber and the landscape art.

Life and Death in New Utopia. 197

CHAPTER XXIII.

On the completion of the great flue and the girdling canal
of the San Bernardino mountains, there remained of non-
productive public works only the normal extension of irriga-
tion, roads, and forestry, with such building as the people
might wish. At the same time the output of the iron works at
Fort Goodwill and of the glass works at Vitre shrank to less
than one-quarter of their former proportions, and that of the
glass works especially assumed a totally different character.

This released a great army of men from the employments
in which they had hitherto been engaged.

To partially offset this, the force of teachers in the schools
and lecturers in the public educational courses was at this time
greatly increased, and the lecture courses were extended into
new fields and greatly diversified.

It was, however, found practicable again to reduce the
number of hours of required service, this time from six to four
hours per day, at which limit it has since remained fixed.

It should be remembered that New Utopia, being espe-
cially designed as a home for those retired from active service
at the age of fifty years, was in larger proportion than other
places peopled by these veterans, who in fact constituted about
half the population of the city.

Not only these, however, but all who had for a series of
years been employed in the service were now trained to a high
grade of mental activity and were prepared to use wisely and
enjoy the large increase of leisure which was now at their
disposal.

198 Perfecting the Earth.

Nothing can give a better birdseye view of life in New
Utopia than an extract from a copy of "The Daily Bulletin and
Visitors' Guide," which we give as follows :

EDUCATIONAL.

Lectures in the higher courses. (All are invited).

PHYSICS.

At School Hall No. 3, 10:30 A. M.
At School Hall No. 27, 2:30 P. M.
At School Hall No. 17, 4 P. M.
At School Hall No. 48, 10 A. M.

CHEMISTRY.

At School Hall No. 7, 10:30 A. M.
At School Hall No. 32, 2:30 P. M.
At School Hall No. 39, 4 P. M.
At School Hall No. 5, 2:30 P. M.

GEOLOGY AND PLANETARY EVOLUTION.

At School Hall No. 1, 10:30 A. M.

At School Hall No. 10, 2:30 P. M.

At School Hall No. 22, 10:30 A. M.

At School Hall No. 56, 4 P. M.

BOTANY.

At School Hall No. 2, 10:30 A. M.

At School Hall No. 13, 2:30 P. M.

At School Hall No. 24, 4 P. M.

At Pavilion in Botanical Gardens at 4 P. M.

ZOOLOGY.

At School Hall No. 4, 10:30 A. M.
At Zoological Park Pavilion, 4 P. M.

PHYSIOLOGY AND HEALTH.

At School Hall No. 11, 10:30 A. M.
At School Hall No. 20, 2 P. M.
At School Hall No. 44, 4 P. M.
At School Hall No. 36, 2 P. M.

Life and Death in New Utopia. 199

LANGUAGE AND THE ART OF EXPRESSION.

At School Hall No. 12, 10:30 A. M.
At School Hall No. 54, 2:30 P. M.

LITERATURE.

At School Hall No. 19, 10 A. M.
At School Hall No. 47, 2 P. Mi.
At School Hall No. 31, 4 P. M.

GEOGRAPHY.

At School Hall No. 1, 2 P. M.
At School Hall No. 15, 10 A. M.
At School Hall No. 22, 4 P. M.
At School Hall No. 50, 2 P. M.

FINE ARTS.

Perspective and Projections— At School Hall No. 9, 10 A. M.
The Harmony and Discord of Color— School Hall No. 25, 2 P. M.
The Human Figure in Action and Repose— School Hall No. 30,
4 P. M.

Sculpture, Modeling— At the Central Gallery of Arts, 10 A. M.

ARCHITECTURE.

At School Hall No. 8, 10 A. M.
At School Hall No. 36, 2 P. M.
At School Hall No. 52, 10 A. M.

HISTORY AND SOCIAL EVOLUTION.

At School Hall No. 6, 10:30 A. M.
At School Hall No. 2, 2 P. M.
At School Hall No. 14, 4 P. M.
At School Hall No. 42, 10:30 A. M.

THE LOGIC OF MATHEMATICS.

At School Hall No. 14, 10 A. M.
At School Hall No. 7, 2 P. M.

ASTRONOMY AND COSMOLOGY.

At School Hall No. 12, 10:30 A. M.
At School Hall No. 21, 2 P. M.
At School Hall No. 33, 4 P. M.
At School Hall No. 54, 10:30 A. M.

200 Perfecting the Earth.

PHILOSOPHY AND PSYCHOLOGY.
At School Hall No. 18, 10 A. M.
At School Hall No. 45, 2 P. M.
At School Hall No. 34, 10 A. M.
At School Hall No. 3, 2 P. M.

ETHICS AND CAUSATION.
At School Hall No. 16, 10 A. M.
At School Hall No. 26, 2 P. M.
At School Hall No. 40, 4 P. M.
At School Hall No. 56, 10:30 A. M.

SPIRITUAL PHILOSOPHY.
At School Hall No. 20, 10:30 A. M.
At School Hall No. 46, 2 P. M.
At School Hall No. 28, 4 P. M.

THE PEOPLE'S FORUM.
At City Hall from 7:30 to 9:30 P. M. daily.

All suggestions which may have been dropped in the boxes
through the day, proposing any changes or improvements, are read
and discussed. If by three or more deemed desirable to be adopted,
they are booked for further consideration. Topics thus laid over from
former meetings are debated, and any proposition pronounced worthy
of adoption by a majority vote of those present is referred to the public
committee in charge of the department in which it would fall, to be
presented to the people, with such suggestions as the experience of
the committee would council, for their decision whether it shall be
carried into effect or not.

RECREATIONS.

For tomorrow, September 18th.

An equestrian excursion in the San Jacinto mountains. More
than 1,500 will participate. Lunch will be served at 12:30, on the
plateau of Mount La Salle, overlooking the Pacific. Starts at 9 a. m.
Apply for horse today at the office of Department of Sports and
Recreations.

Yachting and bathing party to Lake Diaz, with clam bake lunch
in grove at the beach at 1 p. m. Starts at 9:30. Trolley cars.

Excursions by trolley cars on great flue every half hour daily.

Athletic games and races. Toboggan slides. Swings and merry-
go-rounds for the children. With music. Athletic park, daily, 9 a. m.
to 4 p. m.

Life and Death in New Utopia. 201

An excursion to the ocean beach at south foot of great flue,
conducted by Prof. X. of Marine Zoology and Botany. Lunch will be
served at the proper time. Trolley cars. Starts at 10 a. m.

Evening: Theaters, concerts, and lectures, in all parts of tha
city.

Public dining rooms, of which there are more than three
hundred in New Utopia, are all built with the utmost regard
for beauty and convenience, with family alcoves for those who
desire them; they are ornate with palms and tropical plants,
adorned with the finest works of art, and served with music.
The food is served and dishes are removed by automatic
waiters. You touch the button which signals to the kitchen
what you desire, and directly it rises through the table before
you. You place your dishes on a panel of the table, push
another button, and they are instantly removed by the same
hidden path.

When for any reason people prefer to take their meals in
their own houses, pneumatic service tubes convey food and
dishes to and from them in like manner.

A trace of militarism remains in the custom which prevails
in New Utopia every morning to awaken the city with a
musical reveille.

A modification of the organ has been invented for this
use, which combines volume of sound with softness of tone,
and which is accompanied with chimes of bells. These instru-
ments are placed in the cupolas and towers of every public
building, and an assortment of music appropriate to every
occasion condition and time of the year is provided for their
use. By an automatic electrical device the music can be played
simultaneously on each and all of these instruments by a single
musician operating the central instrument, all the niceties of
touch and modulation being perfectly transmitted to every

202 Perfecting the Earth.

instrument connected. The result is that every part of the city,
near and remote, is permeated with the music. Often the
people, growing accustomed to it, are not aware that they hear,
yet the fact remains, as experience has long since demon-
strated, that the mode and temper of the people are greatly
harmonized and sweetened by the influence of such music, even
though it may be unconsciously heard. Of course the use of
these instruments is not limited to the morning reveille; at
noonday and sunset, also, melodies are sounded, and on every
public occasion, festivity or funeral of special note, appropriate
music sounds throughout the city.

In the course of reforms and changes so sweeping as those
which have attended the history here recited, it would have
been strange if the funeral customs which had prevailed in
the civilized world for ages had not been changed also.

It was early in the summer of 1920 that the following
document, signed by General Theodore Goodwill and nearly
all the general and regimental officers under his command, was
promulgated :

"Fellow soldiers and citizen tenantry: The topic of this
communication lying outside of the field of our prescribed
operations, we address you as equals, making to you a propo-
sition which you are free to accept or reject, and regarding
which your actions in either case must be according to your
voluntary choice.

"From our youth to this time, we, the initial signers of
this paper, have been impressed with the futility of the burial
customs prevailing among the European nations from pre-
historic times.

"In order that the memory of the dead may be preserved
among the living, tombstones are erected over their graves,
and when, through the departure of relatives and friends of the

Life and Death in New Utopia. 203

dead from the vicinity, or for any other reason, these monu-
ments fall into neglect, they perish before the living by whose
hand they were planted pass into the beyond.

"At a great waste of energy and expense our landscapes
and gardens are made lugubrious, and the purpose for which
this is done is not accomplished. A cemetery lot is purchased
in which to bury the dead on the theory that the six feet by
three of earth occupied by the grave shall remain sacred to the
dead for their sole occupancy forever.

"Yet a little thought must show the absurdity of the idea.
If such titles continued to be respected, but a few generations
could pass before the earth would be devoted to the dead alone
and the living must be crowded off its face. If they had been
respected since these funeral customs have prevailed, every
acre of land on the habitable earth would long since have
become a graveyard, and there would be no place on the planet
for the living.

"And yet the purpose sought by these funeral customs is
one which in the present state of science and art is easy to
attain. It is now possible to preserve the records and even the
likeness of the dead in such a manner that they shall remain
uninjured and accessible to the living to the remotest future.

"The desire that one's memory or the records of his life
shall remain among the living after he has passed from earth is
natural to man and not to be condemned, and that this desire
may be fulfilled and the records of each one's life, who cares to
make the arrangements necessary to that end, shall be pre-
served to the remotest posterity is the object of the society
which it is hereby proposed to organize.

"To this end we, the undersigned, hereby mutually bind
ourselves to fit up in an imperishable manner a suitable cham-
ber, or chambers, in which shall be filed away the records of

204 Perfecting the Earth.

each of our lives, with photographs of our persons, and copies
of any books or writings which we may have written, or any
other matter which by our surviving relatives may be deemed
necessary to a just and perfect record of the person who has
passed away; the whole to be prepared in the most imperish-
able manner and filed away in order in its year, and indexed
with reference to the records of other members of his family
or his immediate ancestors who have passed before him.

"We bind ourselves, also, to abandon the custom of burial
for our bodies and to submit them to decomposition by com-
bustion until all volatile or combustible constituents thereof
shall have been decomposed into their ultimate elements and
dissipated into the air, and the remaining earthy substances
reduced to powder shall be restored to the earth whence they
were derived.

"For the purpose of building and equipping in a suitable
manner the chambers necessary for the preservation of the
records of the dead, and the crematoriums for the decomposi-
tion of their bodies as herein prescribed, we bind ourselves to
contribute one day's labor, more or less, as may be required."
Signed, Theodore Goodwill, and others.

This proposition proved more popular than had been
anticipated. It was signed at sight by more than half of the
army and by nearly half of the citizen tenantry, and after its
institutions had become established there was a rapid drift into
the society of those who at first had hesitated to break away
from the customs of their ancestors, until those who adhered
to the ancient funeral custom were a mere remnant and sur-
vival of an obsolete rule.

Suitable provisions for carrying out the purposes of this
society were immediately made in every permanent place of
habitation throughout the government domain. At New

Life and Death in New Utopia. 205

Utopia a choice crossed chamber in the catacombs was fitted
up just within the southwest entrance, where the external sur-
roundings were most convenient and suitable for the solemni-
zation of funerals, and in a part of the catacombs far removed
from any appropriated to other uses. The sides and walls of
this chamber were covered with white enamel, its ceiling tinted
with blue, and its floor inlaid with tile appropriate to the uses
for which the chamber was designed. The walls were then
fitted with strong drawers capable of sliding out to give access
to the records, but not easily removed from their places ; each
such drawer was numbered and provided with blank spaces for
the dates between which it should serve, while on the floor were
two lines of glass-covered cases in which the index was
arranged like the card index of a library.

Over the entrance door of this chamber on a tablet of
granite was chiseled these words :

"SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF THOSE WHO HAVE
PASSED INTO THE HIGHER LIFE.
Dedicated June 21, 1920."

The crematorium was built in the midst of a grove of pines
just above this gate of the dead into these catacombs. Here,
without the appearance of fire, the bodies of the dead are con-
sumed by electricity in the presence of liquid air while the
obsequies of the departed are in progress.

After the decomposition of the body is completed, the
master of ceremonies, to the ancient ritual of "ashes to ashes
and dust to dust," sifts the ashes of the dead into an opening in
the top of an altar, whence they pass into a pneumatic tube and
are whisked away beyond the divide to the eastward to where
the dust of the city is collected and where phosphate of lime
finds its appropriate uses.

206 Perfecting the Earth.

For the use of the remnant of people who still adhere to
the ancient custom of burial, a mortuary park is provided ; this
is situated on a terrace of the western foot of the San Jacinto
mountains, a little to the southward of the city and below the
two thousand foot level, but the demand for its use for ceme-
tery purposes is very small and growing smaller year by year.

The Great Celebration. 207

CHAPTER XXIV.

With the male population between the ages of twenty-one
and fifty years taxed but four hours per day in the public ser-
vices, and the women but two hours, the whole population were
now enjoying life in wealth and security. The people of the
national domain which had been reclaimed from the desert
now lived mostly in large towns, with smaller villages serving
as temporary camps for their employment in distant services.

The army, so much of it as remained unabsorbed in the
citizen tenantry, was housed and employed like the rest.

In accordance with an act of congress passed during the
session following the completion of the great flue, the war
department of the United States was transformed into the
department of civil industries and public works, whose duties
it should be to direct the reciprocal co-ordination of industries
and their products between the municipalities of the United
States, under whose direct charge they were to be conducted.

Under the regulation of this arm of the government,
arrangements were made for transferring all localized public
works that had been built under the military regime to the
charge of the municipalities that had grown up with them,
and through a subordinate branch of this department of the
government, the division of transportation and communica-
tion, passengers, freight, express packages, the postal service,
telegraphs, and long distance telephones, were systematized
and perfected.

Arrangements were made for the final disbandment of the
army at a grand celebration of the fourth of July of the year

208 Perfecting the Earth.

1929, to be held at a suitable place high in the San Jacinto
mountains above the city of New Utopia.

For this purpose a rocky glade was chosen that forms a
natural amphitheater a little above the 6,000 feet level, and
preparatory to the occasion, four distinct lines of double
tracked inclined plane railways were built up the mountain
to the terrace that fronts this amphitheater, and also four
lines of continuous elevators, similar to those used in the shafts
of deep mines, were constructed in shafts excavated from the
catacombs beneath.

This auditorium covers about 100 acres and opens on a
plateau as large again, which is well wooded with oak, and
from the margin of which the eye ranges broadly over the
Pacific ocean, the southern part of the city of New Utopia, and
the lower part of the great flue, with the Santa Ana group of
hills behind, over the tops of which the water of the ocean can
be seen.

The margins of this amphitheater are formed by precipi-
tous rocky walls from 75 to 200 feet high, which converge at
the upper extremity of the glade, meeting at a point where,
during rains, a stream of water, after a series of cascades, leaps
over a precipice 75 feet high, but which at all other times is dry.
This valley, below this precipice, is one of those in which a
filtering tunnel had been constructed during the first season's
operations in this region, and in covering this tunnel the shal-
low ravine along which it was laid was entirely filled with
broken stone and gravel, so that the fltfor of the valley now
required but little work to fit it for seating the immense audi-
ence which was to fill it. At the head of this valley, just
beneath the dry cascade, a stand was built for the speakers and
canopied over with a sounding board of wood in the form of
a parabolic reflector with the speakers' stand in its focus.

210

Perfecting the Earth.

The Great Celebration. 211

Along the middle line of this valley, from the speakers'
stand to the oak grove on the terrace fronting it, a series of
iron masts were erected high enough to overtop the rock walls
of the valley and give a good slant to the stay cables which
were stretched from these mast heads to their anchorages
above and beyond these walls. A similar cable was also
stretched like a ridge pole from the rocks above the cascade
behind the speakers' stand to the mast heads of the whole
series and thence to an anchorage on the terrace in front, thus
forming a tent frame covering the entire glade. To this cable
and to the rings about the mast heads to which the side stays
were attached, pulleys were fixed, which, when the time came
for the celebration, served to pull rolls of canvas into place and
enclose the whole valley as a tent with a ventilating space left
open above the rock walls all round the margin.

Under this canopy the entire glade was covered with seats
to accommodate the 500,000 people or more who were ex-
pected to be present. The rocky walls of this natural audi-
torium, together with the sounding-board reflector, would of
themselves transmit the voice of a speaker to a great distance,
but within the distance at which there might be a chance that
a speaker's voice might begin to be indistinct a circle of per-
fected auditorium telephones were erected, their transmitting
pieces being in the overarching edge of the sounding board
over the speakers' stand. Behind this row of telephones, at a
proper distance, was another and still another, until, by actual
experiment, every word uttered on the speakers' stand, though
in a low tone, could be distinctly heard in the remotest seat, or
any other seat, of that vast auditorium.

In the grove outside, tables were set and refreshments pro-
vided to furnish two meals for the hungry multitude expected,

212 Perfecting the Earth.

while grove and auditorium alike were gay with flags, and
everything was fitted to accord with the spirit of the occasion.

At nine o'clock on the morning of this greatest of celebra-
tions the inclined railways and the elevator shafts began to pour
the multitude into the grove, where for an hour they wandered
at their pleasure.

At ten the orchestra for the occasion arrived, and, with
salvos of noisy artillery, stationed near by, to break the inter-
vals, they discoursed music to the multitude until noon.

Then came the first meal ; the tables were spread for 500,-
000 and rilled, and there was an overflow of some 3,500 to be
provided for at a second serving. The meal being finished,
after another salvo of artillery the people fell into lines and
were marshaled into the great auditorium to the music of the
Star Spangled Banner.

Following the multitude, the army marched in and occu-
pied seats reserved for it in front, the music continuing mean-
while.

Then, at a signal, the mighty audience rose and joined in
singing the national anthem, after which Colonel M. of the
educational department stepped to the front of the speakers'
stand, and with his fine voice and expressive rendering read
the old Declaration of Independence.

Another hush and an appropriate interlude by the
orchestra, and General' Theodore Goodwill stepped to the front
and delivered the following address.
"Fellow citizens and soldiers of the army of industry :

"One hundred and fifty-four years ago this day, the im-
mortal document to which we have just listened was first
proclaimed to the nations of the earth. That declaration was a
herald of the future, the forerunner of a new order of things
which did not then exist, and which in the nature of things

The Great Celebration. 213

could not exist until the competitive and commercial order of
society, which at that time had hardly blossomed, had brought
forth its fruit, and ripened it, and passed away.

" 'We hold these truths to be self evident,' says that im-
mortal Declaration, 'that all men are created equal; that they
are endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights ;
that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness ;
that to secure these rights governments are instituted among
men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the
governed ; that whenever any form of government becomes
destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter
or abolish it and to institute a new government, laying its
foundations on such principles and organizing its powers in
such form as to them shall seem most likely to effect their
safety and happiness.'

"Glorious was the declaration with truth inspired, but the
time for its realization was not ripe.

"Equality was not, and without equality life and liberty
were in eternal jeopardy, and the pursuit of happiness was a
mockery, a rainbow chase after the unattainable and impos-
sible.

"Unto thy neighbor as thyself, was, is, and forever must
be, the fundamental condition without which the welfare of any
community is impossible, and of any individual is insecure.

"To think of a community as prospering while a large pro-
portion of its individual members suffer from poverty and
dependence and oppression, is an absurdity on its face, though
from the beginning of history until our own time the world
has refused to see the absurdity of it.

"The destruction which overwhelms some must endanger
all. He that diggeth a pit for his neighbor's feet, himself shall
fall therein ; he who would create a hell for his neighbor, him-

214 Perfecting the Earth.

self must dwell therein. The measure ye mete shall be meas-
ured to you again.'

"The fundamental law which God enacted for the govern-
ment of mankind is the law of cause and effect, and that law
is as righteous as it is universal and eternal.

"Who is there but would wish that the conditions of his
life should be the best that he can think of? Who would not
prefer that his environment should be heavenly in its qualities?
No sane man or woman.

"Very well ; then let us make our world such as we would
have it.

"The great architect of the universe has built its founda-
tions fair; he has animated it with infinite forces, and now, as
soon as our character as a race is sufficiently perfected to trust
us with them, we are led into the knowledge how to harness
these forces and use them in our service. Even yet the danger
is that like an infant or an idiot playing with dynamite we may
use these mighty forces to our mutual destruction.

"Let us always remember the rule, unto thy neighbor as
unto thyself; and if anyone is not disposed to admit the rule
in that shape, let him remember it in the converse as God's
law of cause and effect will enforce it, unto thyself it shall be
as unto thy neighbor.

"So long as the world made it the chief and only honor-
able business of men to live at each other's expense, to exact
profit and tribute of each other and mutually eat each other up,
it could not possibly be otherwise than that they should be
mutually eaten up by each other.

"Whosoever would make his neighbor subordinate to
himself, whoever would make another his servant, he would
again build up among you those two reciprocal evils, despotism
and slavery.

The Great Celebration. 215

"Whoever seeks for himself or for any individual privi-
leges not open to all; whoever seeks for himself or for any
individual private ownership of anything for which an indi-
vidual can have no private exclusive use, count that man an
enemy. There is no motive possible among men that can
cause anyone to desire such ownership, except the desire to
oppress, or dominate over, the many who must use that which
he would own.

"So long, however, as through your public organization
you hold all privileges open to all alike, and through your
public services, publicly owned and operated, at the least pos-
sible expenditure provide all things useful for the service of all,
you need fear no such enemy.

"Yet it is well that you should know him and recognize
his quality ; could he but persuade the community to abdicate
some needful function to him, he has wrought your ruin.

"But there will be ambitious ones among you, some whose
souls will not rest unless they can shine among others, admired
and honored and distinguished above the multitude. Every
one who is spurred by this impulse, unless the prick that goads
him is a disease that must for the common good be put under
restraint, has individuality that will enable him to do some-
thing for the community or the world that shall be distinctly
the tribute of his own personality, something that he can do
but no other could. Let such a one strive to render to the
world his tribute ; let him exercise the power which is in him
to give, not to get.

" 'It is more blessed to give than to receive/ 'Ye know
that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great
ones exercise authority over them, but it shall not be so among
you. Whosoever would be great, let him render service to all ;"
whosoever desires to be honored, let him volunteer to render

216 Perfecting the Earth.

the service which is most arduous, that is fraught with danger
when danger shall arise; let him emulate Napoleon's soldiers,
who vied with each other to win at the cannon's mouth the
cross of the legion of honor, and dared death for the plaudits
of their fellows. But your service will be to bless and save,
where theirs was to kill and to destroy.

"Obeying this rule, honor shall go to those who are honor-
able, and praise to the praiseworthy, and 'the righteous shall
shine forth as the sun.'

"Here today, with that justice which the Declaration of
Independence proclaimed for the first time in the world's his-
tory an accomplished fact, we meet to celebrate that immortal
declaration.

"In all this land there is now not one in want nor in
danger of want, not one who is subordinate to any other one,
nor in danger of such subjection.

"In the midst of the overflowing abundance with which
today we are blessed, greed would be insanity, obviously so in
the eyes of all men.

"Greed is the offspring of need ; scarcity is the breath of
its life. A world in which need and greed reign supreme is a
hell in which all manner of evils find their congenial habitat.

"And yet, throughout all history until now, need born of
ignorance, established in custom, and perpetuated by law, has
prevailed throughout this world of ours, and, springing from
this need, greed has dominated over it.

"Plant it as carefully as they would, tend it with all the
love and longing that a bright ideal could inspire, yet in an
atmosphere of need and greed the tree of liberty sickened and
died.

"See to it that, with the overabundant strength of all, your
storehouses are ever filled with plenty, and that the plenty

The Great Celebration. 217

which fills them is distributed, with the freedom of the rain and
the sunshine which falls alike on the just and the unjust, to
whosoever hath need.

"Then shall your excellence and your beauty and your
happiness grow brighter forever, until the vision of what you
shall be is lost in light.

"We meet here today in the midst of beauty and grandeur
to the production of which nature has lent her forces and man
his art, the equal of which never was on earth before, and never
would have been on earth if man in unison with nature had not
lent his skill and his will, with the common strength of the
nation, to its creation.

"Here where today a garden blooms and bears fruitage
as no Eden ever before bloomed and fruited, where teeming
thousands find plenty and delight, less than a decade ago nature
spread a desert, where on the parched face of the earth no
green thing could live, and now here in the desert blooms the
fairest garden in all the earth.

"All may not live here, ought not. The world is wide and
must be peopled. Have we here created anything that is good
and pleasant? Go, then, into all the world and surpass in
excellence the beginnings which here in the desert we have
made. We have but pointed the way, have but entered upon it
ourselves.

"Create your best ideals into material embodiments. The
world is fair, its forces stand harnessed to serve your uses.

"If ye will truth and righteousness and excellence and
beauty, ye may have what ye will. The world awaits you for
its perfecting, and whosoever, with his head or his hand, shall
contribute to its perfecting, he shall find joy in his work.

"There are other deserts to water, other barrens to plant,
other waste places to clothe with verdure. Go ye out into the
world and open the gates of Paradise to all its people.

218 Perfecting the Earth.

"Perfect the means of travel; to him who dwells among
the palms of the tropics a sojourn among the glaciers of Green-
land or the eternal desolations of the Antarctic continent will
be the fullness of life ; and there is no part of this wonderfully
varied planet to which all may not be given access at their
pleasure.

"Let all mankind enjoy the earth and the fullness thereof."

Turning to the army, which at a signal now rose to its
feet, the General continuing said: "Soldiers of the army of
industry : It has been your good fortune to open to the world
a new and brighter era.

"When your energies were turned from arms to imple-
ments, from war to peace, from tearing down to building up,
your country knew not what to do with you, nor with itself.
The earth and the fullness thereof was appropriated by a few.
The energies of mankind were held in restraint. The wheels of
industry, except as they could grind more wealth into the
possession of those who already had all wealth, and further
power into the hands of those who already dominated all
governments, were forbidden to turn.

"Your maintenance in uselessness was destruction to you,
and it was a burden too grievous to be borne to a people
already overladen, yet there were neither homes nor occupa-
tions that could receive you.

"But you were led into the desert where no man lived, and
there, turning your energies to useful industry, you have
become self supporting ; more than that, you have become rich ;
you who are of the active forces of industry have more leisure
now than any millionaire twenty years ago could enjoy, and
culture has opened to you her portals.

"In banishing poverty from among yourselves, you have
banished it from the world. The truth which you have wrought
into an object lesson has set free the human race.

The Great Celebration. 2 1 9

"You each and all have your homes now, furnished in all
convenience and embowered in all beauty. You who are yet
within the years of public service all have your duties under a
system that gives to your work the highest degree of efficiency ;
you will return to your homes and to your duties, and to the
joys of your life, but no longer as an army.

"The citizen tenantry receives you all.

"As for myself and the general staff, we crave the privi-
leges of private life, to which our age and services have long
since entitled us.

"We desire homes in yon fair city at our feet, without the
responsibilities of office, where we may move as equals among
you.

"Our resignations have been accepted by the government.

"You go to your homes enfranchised with the duties and
responsibilities of free citizens, and the gratitude and thanks of
an emancipated world go with you.

"I now promulgate to you the order which is to be my last
official act. The army is hereby disbanded."

So solemn, so earnest, so impressive, was this address that
the mighty audience, who during the address to the army had
instinctively risen to their feet, stood for a moment in silence,
lost to themselves and their surroundings. Then rousing to
consciousness they cheered until the canvas that covered the
great amphitheater waved like the sea in a storm, and all the
flags waved as if in sympathy.

Then the artillery fired another salvo, and while the
orchestra played "My Country, 'tis of Thee," the great audi-
ence filed out.

It was now 4 p. m. The bulletin displayed on the rostrum
when the exercises were finished, which was also posted here
and there about the grove, announced, "Supper will be served

220 Perfecting the Earth.

in the grove at 5:30 p. m. Fireworks will begin at 7:30. For
best view, take seats in the auditorium."

The multitude had an hour and a half in which to wander
as they pleased, while the music played, and the cannon thun-
dered their noisy chorus in the interludes. When the audience
had passed out, a screen was drawn across the front of the
auditorium, behind which the scene shifters were busy. When,
after the evening meal, this screen was withdrawn, a mighty
change had come over the scene. The canopy which in the
afternoon had shaded the vast auditorium was gone, while all
around, where the bare walls of rock had been, now spread the
bay of Naples with Vesuvius smoking in the distance, a pano-
rama to which the rocky wall of the amphitheater lent itself
admirably. The central part of the scene, however, where the
speakers' stand had been, was fitted with shifting scenery, and
the platform and the rocks above were arranged for the exhibi-
tion of fireworks.

And now as the shades of night closed in, rockets began
to shoot, and the sky was filled with all manner of rainbow-
colored meteors.

The landscape glowed lurid with red fire and flashed up
into brilliancy with hidden lightning. Now amidst lightnings
and volcanic fires and rushing floods the submergence of
Atlantis is exhibited.

Then, on the scenery of the main landscape, Vesuvius
begins to mutter and glow ; Pompeii is alive again before our
eyes, and again, amidst fire and rolling darkness and confusion,
it is overwhelmed, while Vesuvius spouts fire, alternating with
clouds of dust and ashes.

And now Rome is burned while Nero with his voluptuous
company revels before our eyes.

The Great Celebration. 221

Sweeping back through a cycle of time, Belshazzar's feast
is enacted before us, and other brilliant scenes from history
and mythology.

Now it is the great fire in Chicago seen from the lake, and
finally in splendid brilliancy and gigantic proportions the alle-
gorical figures of Peace and Plenty appear and bestow their
blessings on all, and this most noteworthy of all celebrations of
the fourth of July is ended.

222 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER XXV.
"And I saw no temple therein." — Rev. 21: 22.

New Utopia is a rapidly growing city, and its location
provides for a long continuance of rapid growth; it is full of
halls and auditoriums of many kinds, but a visitor from any
town that had grown under the ancient regime would notice
the absence of churches. In fact there is not a church in New
Utopia.

It was early in June of 1930, while wandering about the
city enjoying its every varied beauty and its peace, we entered
a shady grove in the midst of which stood a Greek-temple-like
structure of white marble.

This contained no inner chamber, but its roof and upper
structure were supported entirely on the columns that stand
instead of its walls. There were curtains, however, that could
be dropped between the columns to enclose the auditorium
when and so far as might be desired. This was Herron
Pavilion. There was a speaker's stand in it and chairs for the
purpose of seating an audience. A bulletin on the front steps
announced a lecture in this auditorium at 10 a. m., next Sun-
day, by Professor D. "On Religion versus Philosophy; some
advanced thought from the nineteenth century, exemplified by
Kidd's Social Evolution, and an essay by an obscure writer of
the same epoch."

This was Saturday afternoon, and we decided to hear the
professor in the morning, thinking that he would be likely to
throw some light on the views prevailing in New Utopia.

Returning to the pavilion at the appointed time, we en-
tered and took seats. The speaker's stand was at the south
end, and behind this and on the eastern side the curtains were

224

Perfecting the Earth.

A New Utopian Sunday Lecture. 225

dropped. The audience entered from the north which was
open to the free air of heaven, as was the west side also. There
was choral singing, and reading of elevating literature and
poetry, a little preliminary ritual in fact, suitable to awaken
high thoughts and sentiments, such that one might almost
fancy himself in one of the liberal churches of the latter part
of the nineteenth century.

The speaker began by saying: "The book with which we
open our subject today is one that had considerable attention
during the last decade of the nineteenth century among think-
ing people, or at least people who liked to be thought such,
and the critics generally approved it.

"We will endeavor to glean from the book in such a man-
ner as to convey a just and correct idea of the author's argu-
ment and position.

"As indicated by his title, Mr. Kidd poses as an evolu-
tionist par excellence. His first postulate is this : 'Progress is
the result of selection and rejection. If all individuals were
allowed equally to propagate, a process of slow degeneration
would ensue. The condition of progress is therefore one of
continual strain or stress.' This he further emphasizes and
particularizes elsewhere by declaring his conviction that:
There can be no progress except by the accumulation of con-
genital variations above the average to the exclusion of those
below.'

"We shall probably agree with Mr. Kidd that a condition
of strain or stress resulting in the propagation of the superior
and the weeding out of the inferior would greatly favor and
accelerate progress, but the chief causes of the strain and stress
on humanity to which Mr. Kidd refers have been war, and
religious persecution, and we know, and it is hard to under-
stand how the author could have failed to know, that through-

226 Perfecting the Earth.

out the historic period war has weeded out from among man-
kind the physically best, and religious persecution has weeded
out the intellectually and morally best, while the human race
has been propagated mostly from the culls ; and yet there has
been progress. It would seem as if some factor has been at
work that does not appear in Mr. Kidd's formula.

"But hear him further. Since a condition of strain or
stress is not a pleasant one, and the strain and stress which has
existed could have been avoided, Mr. Kidd says : There can
be no rational sanction for the conditions of progress, because
the future does not concern any existing people.' That the
remote future does not and cannot concern the living is a
statement that Mr. Kidd seems to think self evident, and he
makes it an essential link in his chain of argument. Yet you
who are now listening will strongly dissent from it, for the
reason that you, from a rational sanction, have attained the
concept and conviction of the continuity of life, a concept and
conviction that Mr. Kidd, the religionist, evidently did not
entertain nor believe possible, and would not have approved if
he had believed it possible.

"But hear him continue. There seems to be no escape
from the conclusion that the only social doctrines of today
which have the assent of reason for the masses of mankind are
those of socialism ; and socialism, which would put an end to
the stress and strain of life, would be utterly destructive to
future progress.'

"One would like to go back 40 years and 'ask Mr. Kidd
whether it might not be possible that the desire to realize an
ideal better than present attainments might be a factor, at
least, of a stress and strain from which progress might arise ;
and whether, considering the obvious fact that mankind, under
the stress and strain of the fear of want, bred mostly from those

A New Utopian Sunday Lecture. 227

who knew least of, and cared least for, ideals, it might not pro-
mote instead of prevent progress to shift the stress and strain to
a higher plane? •

"But hear the conclusion which Mr. Kidd draws from the
premises which we have cited. 'The interests of the individual
and those of the social organism to which he belongs are not
identical ; on the contrary the central fact in progressive society
is that the interests of the social organism and those of the in-
dividuals composing it are actually antagonistic and inherently
irreconcilable/ This conclusion he makes a fundamental
principle of all his following argument.

"No words of mine could make the reduction to an ab-
surdity more complete or more obvious than his own. He
holds that in order that society may fare well, the people that
compose it must fare ill; and yet the orthodox thinkers, and
the critics, of the nineties swallowed all that without a grim-
mace.

"Having discovered this wonderful fundamental principle,
our author proceeds to use it in showing how human society,
for its own good, from the beginning of history, has been held
to a line of conduct opposed to reason and antagonistic to the
welfare of the people.

"Hear him, he says : 'The central fact of human history
is religion. Religion is not only independent of, but in direct
conflict with the intellectual forces.' * * * 'The forces
against which man is engaged throughout the historic struggle
are none other than those enlisted against him by his own rea-
son/ * * * 'Throughout all history we witness man
driven by a profound instinct which finds expression in his
religion recognizing a hostile force in his own reason.'
* * * <Tne central feature of human history is the struggle
which man throughout the whole period of his social develop-

228 Perfecting the Earth.

ment has carried on to effect the subordination of his own
reason, its motive has been supplied by his religious beliefs.'

"Regardless, for the moment, whether suth a line of con-
duct has promoted or retarded progress, whether it has been
helpful or harmful to the human race, there is abundant ground
for the assurance that regarding the character of religion as it
has been a power among men, and the function it has per-
formed, and the part which it has played in history, our author
has in the sentences quoted, but told the simple truth.

"But we will defer our comments until he has developed
his argument further.

" The function of these beliefs in evolution,' he says, 'is to
provide a superrational sanction for conduct necessary to
progress for which there can be no rational sanction.' Then
he proceeds to define religion. 'The central element in all
religious beliefs,' he says, 'must be the ultra rational sanction
which they provide for social conduct.' * * * 'There
never can be such a thing as a rational religion.' 'No form of
belief is capable of functioning as a religion in the evolution of
society which does not provide an ultra rational sanction for
social conduct in the individual. A rational religion is a
scientific impossibility, representing from the nature of the case
an inherent contradiction of terms.' "And in this connection
he recognizes philosophy and religion as antagonistic, it being
the aim of philosophy to find a rational sanction for beliefs
which religion rests on an ultra rational basis, in which so far
as philosophy can succeed, such beliefs can no longer function
as religion.

"In all this again we must admit that Mr. Kidd has truth-
fully characterized historical religion.

"Priestcraft, from the beginning of history, has denied the
right to think. To accept rationally the substance of his dogma

A New Utopian Sunday Lecture. 229

has never been satisfactory to the religionist; it must be ac-
cepted unreasoningly on faith, on the ipse dixit of his 'thus
saith the Lord,'

"When, for instance, his dogma of a future life was ac-
cepted thus it had sufficient vitality for the priest to add, on its
strength, a deeper terror to the king of terrors, but not suffi-
cient vitality to deliver the poor religionist from the fear of
death: 'The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip, to haud the
wretch in order.'

"The religionist usually thought, and habitually spoke, of
the one who had passed into the higher life as lying in his
grave. The priest did not in any rational sense believe in his
own dogma, and for the one who would prove it true he
reserved his deepest curse.

"Acceptance of the ultra, or super, rational sanction that
our author insists on, is the submission of the soul to slavery,
the poor religionist abdicating his right to think.

"So long as large bodies of people will accept this slavery
the priest can hold dominion over them; when they reject it
and insist on a rational sanction, religion has ceased to function
and the occupation of the priest is gone. 'The truth shall set
men free.'

"Our author finally sums up his conclusions in this first
part of his book in this: 'That evolution is not primarily in-
tellectual but religious, its most distinctive feature being that
through the law of, natural selection the race must grow ever
more and more religious.'

"He could write this in the midst of a people among whom
the religion that he had defined, with its ultra rational authority
had long since lost its power; in the face of the fact that the
most religious nations, using the word according to his own
definition, Spain, Turkey, Persia were decadent, while every

230 Perfecting the Earth.

people to whom religion was the chief concern of their lives
were unprogressive and behind their age ; in the face of the
fact, obvious throughout history, that nothing else in human
nature has been so utterly reactionary, so uniformly and in-
tensely opposed to all progress, as the religion which he has
defined, religion that has through all history arrayed mankind
against their own reason ; in the face of the fact that the emanci-
pation of the minds of men from its bondage has proved every-
where the first condition necessary to progress.

"Mr. Kidd is a sophist to the priests' taste. He never hesi-
tates to invert and reverse the most obvious facts, provided he
can do so under the semblance of reasoning.

"Is this a subtle plan of his to discredit the antagonist
against which he has arrayed himself, the human reason? If
his were a fair sample of reasoning it could not well be denied
that the effort was successful.

"Religion, such as he champions, with its ultra rational
sanction, has burned the world's Brunos, imprisoned and
tortured its Gallileos, opposed and interdicted with its ultra
rational authority every newly discovered truth, every ray of
divine light that has come to illuminate the human under-
standing; it has massacred or banished from whole nations
every one who dared to think and be loyal to truth as it was
given him to perceive it, and left in the land to propagate the
race only the stupid who could not think, the coward who
dared not, and the hypocrite who cared too little for truth to
sacrifice anything for its sake.

"Let us rejoice that among us Mr. Kidd's principle of
progress, religion with its ultra rational sanction and its irre-
concilable antagonism to human reason and the welfare of the
individual, is as extinct and as fossil as the pterodactyl.

"Before entering on the second part of our subject let us
sing the Ode to Truth." (Page 27 of the Choral Songster.)

A New Utopian Sunday Lecture. 231

CHAPTER XXVI.

(A New Utopian Sunday Lecture, Continued.)
A Scientific Basis for Another Order of Being.

Rested and harmonized by the music and sentiment of this
ode, the audience was again in a receptive mode for the second
part of the lecture.

The Professor resumed: "The last quarter of the nine-
tenth century was marked by the final conflict in the world of
thought, between materialism and spiritualism. Before the end
of the century the battle was so far decided that the case for
materialism was hopeless, nevertheless the hyper-conservative
and reactionary types of mind failed to recognize that fact, and,
as always, with their backs toward the light of the morning,
persisted in their allegiance to outworn and dying error.

"In this class, of course, were found all who with Mr. Kidd
held to religion with its ultra rational sanction. The battle was
in the field of reason, and though a future fife was a funda-
mental dogma of religion, nay for that very reason, to prove the
continuity of life, and convince the thinking world of its truth
on a rational basis, would be fatal to religion with its ultra
rational principle.

.-*-» "This, in fact, is precisely what has killed it. The life of
religion was tied up in the absurd, the irrational, the self-con-
tradictory ; in its irrational dependence on arbitrary and
miraculous power, instead of the principle of cause and effect,
to produce the results desired or expected; in its dogmas, of
the trinity, which was absurd, of the vicarious atonement,
which was immoral and pernicious^ ancTof the resurrection of

232

Perfecting the Earth.

the material body, which was demonstrably false. But their
very absurdity and unreason made these dogmas serviceable to
a principle, the vitality of which depended on unreason, on the
subordination of reason, on the blind acceptance of blind au-
thority with its ultra rational sanction. The church was the last
stronghold of materialism, and when materialism passed into
the; limbo of ancient errors the church vanished with it.

"But we are to review this morning some of the phases
of the battle in which materialism was finally overthrown. For
this purpose I have chosen an essay by an obscure writer of Mr.
Kidd's epoch, from an obscure magazine that I found some
time ago among a lot of old papers in the general library. The
topic of the essay is, 'A Scientific Basis for Another Order of
Being.'

^ "Our author says that: 'Materialism essentially consists
in the teaching that all real existence consists of tridimensional
matter, occupying space to the exclusion of other things, and
that all phenomena are manifestations of its functions.
Materialism is really based on the assumption that that which
cannot be perceived has no real existence, not a postulate,
notice, not stated as a fact upon which argument is based, but
an assumption unconsciously taken. The scientific materialist,
if this assumption were formulated as we have formulated
it, would be compelled to deny its truth, nevertheless in deny-
ing this assumption he would knock the foundation from under
Xe^yery argument that materialism can rest on.

"Science never produced a materialist more decided than
the late Professor W. K. Clifford, who died in the assurance
that death was the end of all things with him, yet the teachings
of Professor Clifford overthrow that foundation of materialism.

C "Professor Clifford says: 'Radiant heat, which is physi-
illy identical with light, is capable of doing work. Any

A New Utopian Sunday Lecture. 233

change which possesses energy is a motion of matter. In that
sense, and in that sense only, it is a matter of demonstration
that light consists of the periodic motion of matter, of some-
thing which is between the luminous object and the eye; but
that something is not matter in the ordinary sense of the word,
it is not made up of such molecules as gases, liquids and solids
are made of/

" This statement is no guess, but proved fact. The sort of
evidence we have, to show that light consists of waves trans-
mitted through a medium, is the sort of evidence that footsteps
in the snow make; it is not a theory which simply accounts
for the facts, but a theory which can be reasoned back to from
the facts without any other theory being possible.'

"So much from Professor Clifford. But here let us remark
that the word matter was applied to the substance of which
things are composed before the scientific mind had conceived
of anything, or the possibility of anything, lying behind solids,
liquids and gases, out of which solids, liquids and gases might
be formed, and lacking the properties by which solids, liquids
and gases are recognized; hence, in that stage of science the
word matter very properly applied to the fundamental sub-
stance out of which all known things were formed. jVIatter in
this, its proper and original sense, is always

the qualities of weight, inertia and impenetrability,
qualities it is made perceptible to our senses. When, from the
advances of scientific knowledge, scientists began to conceive
the reality of something imperceptible, lacking the qualities by
which matter is recognized, lying behind matter as it had been
known and defined, out of which they came to perceive that all
perceptible matter was formed, most of them, like Professor
Clifford, extended the meaning of the word matter backward
to cover the new concept, and applied it both to the thing

234 Perfecting the Earth.

created and to that out of which it was created. This, of
course, led to much confusion of language and some confusion
of thought, and we. find Professor Clifford talking about matter
which is not matter in the ordinary sense, and others talking
about this imperce£tible_j^met only real

matter, thus denying to solids, liquids and gases their right to
the word which had been applied to them and to nothing else
from the beginning of scientific language. When the mind
grasps a new concept lying outside of the domain of previous
thought and language, it needs a new word. At least nothing
but confusion can come out of using an old word in distinct and
diverse meanings. When a word has come to mean everything
it has ceased to mean anything.

+* "Confining the word matter, then, to its original and ordi-
nary meaning, it is known to consist of molecules or atoms,
which in gases are flying about freely, getting as far from each
other as the pressure will permit. In liquids the molecules roll
or slide freely upon, or at a nearly invariable distance from
each other ; and in solids each molecule has a fixed limit within
which it moves — for all are moving — never exchanging places
\ with others.

"Of the size of these molecules, Sir William Thomson,
since dubbed Lord Kelvin, says: 'If you were to magnify a
drop of water to the size of the earth, then the coarseness of the
graining of it would be somewhere between that of cricket balls
and small shot/

"In regard to the physical constitution of these molecules,
the name of this great scientist is associated with a theory that
seems to be the only one that has any present scientific stand-
ing, namely, the vortex ring theory. Vortex rings are pro-
duced in air and gases by friction against the edges of the open-
ing through which they escape with a puff. Everyone has seen

A New Utopian Sunday Lecture. 235

such rings formed of smoke discharged with a short puff from
the lips of a smoker.

"The vortex ring theory of matter was due originally to a
mathematical discussion by the German professor, Helmholtz,
of the properties of vortex rings in a hypothetical fluid, which
should be continuous and incapable of compression or friction.
The result ascertained was that under these conditions a vortex
ring must be permanent, impossible by any conceivable means
to produce, but if it once existed, impossible to destroy; it
could move freely, but could not be added to nor substracted
from. These properties suggested to Sir William Thomson
that such rings would form a basis for a new form of atomic
theory in better accordance with known facts than any other
which had been proposed. Accordingly, he made further re-
searches on this hypothesis and found that the facts conformed
|to the theory as far as it was possible to test them.

"This theory is not a fixed certainty such as Professor
Clifford describes the wave theory of light to be, but a working
hypothesis thus far unimpeached, and probably true, enabling
us to extend our researches from the known out into the un-
known.

- — "It may be that that mode of integration of atoms out of a
continuous substance is true, it may be that some other mode
not yet conceived of is the form of their constitution, but that
the ultimate atoms of matter as known to chemistry and
physics are in some way formed of an imperceptible substance
jn which they remain immersed, is well nigh certain.

" This primitive fluid,' says Professor J. Clerk Maxwell,
in the Encyclopedia Britanica, 'has no other known properties
than inertia, invariable density, and perfect mobility.' Perfect
continuity had, however, been previously stated of it; that is
continuity in the sense of being without intervals or spacing

236 Perfecting the Earth.

between its parts, without the intervening spaces that exist be-
tween the molecules of all forms of perceptible matter. 'Ac-
cording to Thomson,' continues Professor Maxwell, 'though
the primitive fluid is the only true matter, yet that which we call
matter is not the primitive fluid itself, but only a modification
of that primitive fluid. The primitive fluid itself entirely eludes
our perceptions when it is not endued with the mode of motion
which converts portions of it into vortex rings and thus renders

it molecular/
\

"Professor Maxwell, however, continuing his discussion of
this primitive fluid, assumes it to be subject to the laws of ordi-
nary matter. Ignoring the perfect continuity, invariable
density, and other qualities just recognized as pertaining to this
primitive fluid that fills all space, he assumes it to consist of an
exceedingly thin and tenuous gas. On this assumption, taking
the velocity of the light wave and the ascertained amount of
energy received on the earth from the sun in a given time for
his data, he applies his formulae to determine the co-efficient of
rigidity and the density of the ether. In this way he reaches
this conclusion: 'In interplanetary space, therefore, the ether
is very dense as compared with the attenuated atmosphere,
which, according to the law of expansion of gases, would exist
in the same region, but the whole mass of the ether, within a
sphere whose radius is that of the orbit of the most distant
planet, is very small compared with that of the planets them-
selves.'

"This conclusion is obviously inconsistent with the facts
which Thomson and Helmholtz have established, and which
Professor Maxwell himself accepts in the outset of his paper.
The fallacy to which this error is due is no less obvious.

"Density is measured by weight, but according to the
theory of Thomson and Helmholtz, which is provisionally

A New Utopian Sunday Lecture. 237

adopted by Professor Maxwell, weight is a property acquired
by virtue of the vortex motion which forms the atoms and con-
verts the primitive fluidj the ether, into matter; hence regard-
ing density as measured by weight the density of the ether
should be zero. Yet since the ether is continuous, filling space
between the atoms in all forms of gross matter, since the vortex
motion, by virtue of which the atoms of gross matter exist, only
applies to a part of the space which that matter considered as a
mass occupies, and since the ether affected by that motion is
not condensed or concentrated thereby, its' density being in-
variable, it follows that considering density as opposed to
porosity, as a measure of the nearness of the ultimate elements
of a substance to each other, the density of the ether must be_
greater than that of any other substance. The quantity of ether
in any given space must be invariable, no matter how much or
how little of it is worked up into molecular matter, nor what
form of matter it is worked up into, so that if quantity of sub-
stance is what Professor Maxwell means to compare, ether with
matter, instead of the mass of ether within a sphere whose
radius is that of the orbit of the most distant planet being very
small as compared with the planets themselves, it is vastly
greater than would be that of a sphere of solid platinum having
the same radius.

^ "It is evident that the ether so borders on the material
order of being that impulses moving in it with the velocity of
light are capable of awakening a resistance in matter, but no
motion of matter within the range of velocities known among
material things is hindered by it in the slightest degree. Pro-
fessor Clifford says : 'It has been maintained for a long time
that there is a certain resisting medium which the planets have
to move through, but the evidence on which this assertion was
v based has been entirely overturned by Professor Tait.'

238 Perfecting the Earth.

"Professor Alexander Winchell, too, in World Life, col-
lecting a great mass of evidence and reviewing the investiga-
tions of many men eminent in science regarding this matter,
reaches the same conclusion.

"Professor John Fiske, too, says : The resistance offered
by the ether to the planetary motions is too minute to be ap-
preciable; it cannot be detected, is purely theoretical and is
based on a fallacious assumption.' Of actions and impulses
moving in and pertaining to this ether, however, Professor
Clifford says : 'All we know of the ether shows that its actions
are of a rapidity very much exceeding anything that we know
of the motions of visibl'e matter.'

"The most of what we know of the ether we have learned
through the study of light, and conversely, it is mostly through
the behavior of light in the presence of matter that Sir William
Thomson and others have extended their researches so deeply
into the ultimate constitution of matter. There are other prop-
erties or forces in nature, however, in regard to which less is
known than we know of light, but which so far as they go speak
wonderful things of the ether.

"Chief among these is gravitation. It has long been the
custom to speak of gravitation as if it were an ultimate fact
needing no explanation, but really of the wonders of the uni-
verse this is one of the chief. It has been spoken of so generally
as if it were an action of one body directly on another, that we
are apt to overlook the necessity that all action at a distance
must be through a medium. Yet, Sir Isaac Newton, who first
discovered and formulated the laws of gravitation, wrote:
That gravity should be innate, inherent, and essential to
matter, so that one body can act upon another at a distance
through a vacuum, without the mediation of anything else by
or through which their action and effort may be conveyed from

A New Utopian Sunday Lecture. 239

one to the other, is to me so great an absurdity that I believe
no man who has in philosophical matters a competent faculty of
thinking, can ever fall into it.' And in this respect the judg-
ment of Sir Isaac Newton is yet the judgment of the scientific
and philosophical world.

•N "No tenable theory of the mode of action of gravitation has
yet been formulated. The facts known in regard to it, however,
show the instantaneous transmission of its impulse through all
distances at which its effects can be detected. This requires an
absolutely perfect incompressibility of the medium through
which its impulse is conveyed.

^ "Light requires eight minutes to reach the earth from the
sun, its velocity being about 200,000 miles per second, hence
the continuity and elasticity of the ether, though immensely
greater than that of any form of ponderable matter, might, so
far as the light wave alone shows, be a matter of degree, but
when this medium transmits an impulse ninety-three millions,
or billions of miles in no time at all, then degree cannot be ad-
mitted regarding its density , continuity, and other related
v qualities on which this transmission depends.

"Gravitation, light, radiant heat, and electro-magnetic
phenomena, all require this space filling medium for their trans-
mission. The qualities of this medium, which can be reasoned
back to from the facts, differ somewhat, according to the class
of phenomena we use as a basis for our reasoning.

"Whether all are transmitted directly by the 'primitive
fluid' or by different modifications of it in the same sense as
molecular matter, is a modification of it, but prevailing as uni-
versally as the ether itself, the science of the day is not able to
tell us, but some of the facts ascertained suggest that the latter
may be nearer the ultimate truth.

240 Perfecting the Earth.

"The object of this discussion is, however, to enable us to
obtain a better view, and at the same time a thoroughly
scientific view, of the difference between the range of our
powers of perception through our senses and the range of real
existence.

"We have seen that before the closest scrutiny of physical
science the solid rock, the hardest steel, the earth, our own
bodies, and all the material universe, dissolve into a cloud of
dancing whirl puffs of a substance which itself, though every-
where present, eludes every effort of ours to perceive it. They
are a cloud less substantial when compared with that etherial
mass than is the morning mist to our physical constitutions.

"This we know is a hard concept to accept while it is new
to one, yet it is the outcome of the closest study into the nature
of things that man has ever been able to make. And it will
grow on the one who studies it. As we come to understand
how these things can be, consistently with the existence of the
solid seeming earth, and all that we are conscious of, we also
come to perceive the probability of their truth.

"When we have taken in and digested this concept of the
material universe it is no longer hard for us to understand the
possibilities of the existence of other orders of being so differ-
ent from the material that, to our cloudbank organizations with
our foggy senses, they may be as imperceptible as the ether
itself, and that they may nevertheless be organized in a manner
far more perfect than is possible in the matter which we can
perceive.

"Indeed, when we consider that every quality of the ether
which we have been able to discover excels the corresponding
quality of material substances in a degree immense beyond our
power of comprehension, it seems quite possible that an order

A New Utopian Sunday Lecture. 241

of being may exist which may excel the material in variety,
power, and perfection, in a like degree.

"Nor do we stand alone in this concept. Professor Fiske,
in The Unseen World, quotes Professor Jevons as follows:
'All our ordinary notions must be laid aside in contemplating
such an hypothesis, yet it is no more than the observed pheno-
mena of light and heat force us to accept. We cannot deny
even the strange suggestion of Dr. Young that there may be
independent worlds, some possibly existing in different parts of
space, but others perhaps pervading each other, unseen and
unknown to each other, in the same space.' And this Dr.
Young, it should be noted, is that professor to professors whose
work is usually filtered down to ordinary thinkers only at
second hand, but whose research and reasoning it was that
finally fixed the wave theory of light in the realm of established
and final truth.

"It is then with no lack, either of scientific grounds for the
conclusion, or of high authority among scientific thinkers, that
we claim a scientific place for another order of being im-
perceptible to our physical senses as an established scientific
truth. Yet, having found a scientific place for such an order of
being, and perceived the possibility of its existence as a factor
of the great universe of being, to assume the existence of such
an order of being proved thereby would be very far from being
a scientific proceeding. The proof of the existence of such an
order of being lies along other lines of research, in the investi-
gation of the phenomena of life and intelligence, in which field
those who are familiar with the evidence regard the existence
of such another order of being as already proved in a manner
as scientific as that by which the existence of the ether is
demonstrated. And in regard to this, science, even material-

242 Perfecting the Earth.

istic science, is now self-estopped from denying it a priori as it
has been wont to do.*

"This review and philosophical essay illustrate as well as
anything within its compass the battle between religion and
philosophy, or between materialism and spiritualism, in which
materialism, and with it religion in its historic sense, was finally
overthrown.

"Some may wonder why it was that the vanquished sophist
rather than the victorious philosopher was famous, known and
read and talked of by the world. ' 'Twas ever thus ! He is
regarded knave or fool or zealot plotting crime, who for the
advancement of his kind is wiser than his time.'

"It is also true that the last effective power of the churches
was their ability to advertise into the world's notice, and secure
a large reading for, any book which pleased them, or by a
conspiracy of silence to condemn to obscurity many of such as
they desired should remain unread. Kidd's Social Evolution
was a novel defense of their principle of unreason, and the
priesthood of his epoch were not acute enough to see that it
was more destructive to those it defended than it could possibly
be to those it attacked."

This ended the lecture. The sweet zephyrs of the Pacific,
bearing with them the odors of many flowers, rarified and
cooled as they had floated up the mountain side, had fanned
the brows of the audience while they listened all through this
rather heavy and lengthy lecture.

None but a trained audience could have listened* to it with-
out weariness, but every New Utopian audience is a trained
one.

*For an essay in this field of phychological research, see "The Missing
Sense," by the present author.

A New Utopian Sunday Lecture. 243

As they passed out into the lovely vistas and beautiful
homes of this fair city, they felt that the inner truths of a bygone
epoch had been opened to their understanding, and their minds
had been fed. And the midday melody from the great organs
in every tower floated over and permeated every copse and
cranney in all this great and beautiful city as they departed.

244 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER XXVII.

Eighteen years have passed since the memorable summer
when the army was disbanded and General Goodwill delivered
his noble valedictory at the great celebration of the Fourth of
July in the mountains above New Utopia.

During these years whatever remained of the ancient
regime has passed away. The Co-operative Commonwealth is
perfected. Every town in all the land has its public industries
now, producing all needed supplies, its public stores, where all
things needed are kept in store and from which they are distri-
buted to those who desire them, its public services, by which
all needful services are rendered with the greatest efficiency and
economy possible; and invention has been very fertile in this
field during these years.

There is no longer any town, nor any home, in all the land,
that is shabby or unsightly, nor any human being in poverty
nor in danger of poverty.

There are no lonely farm houses now. The fields every-
where are cultivated under power, on the system first intro-
duced on the irrigated lands about Fort Goodwill; and the
people everywhere, in order to have the benefits of association,
the public services, the leisure, the society, the lectures and the
schools, have moved into the towns.

Forests and groves are everywhere cared for under public
charge. The whole land is like a landscape garden. Electric
railways, deriving their power from liquid air power stations,
thread the country in all directions, while paved parkways,
along which the swift motor carriages course, thread the

Present Conditions — 1947 A. D. 245

groves, and meander along the river banks, and stretch across
the fields.

The horse is everywhere limited to the uses that were
found for him at Fort Goodwill thirty odd years ago. Except
for sports and exercises he would be as rare as the elephant
in the land.

There were some towns whose leading citizens thought
they would be conservative and use the power, which wealth
and property gave them, to retain there the ancient order. But
in order to enjoy the new, the people of these towns left them,
and their wealthy citizens were compelled to relinquish their
purpose and accept the new order also, or their towns would
quickly have ceased to exist.

The rich are no longer distinguishable. The ancient
money is received yet in the public stores, and when received
it is destroyed, excepting that an assortment of it is kept in the
museums attached to every school. Since the public industries
and public stores were established, the only money issued has
been the time check for services and the certificate of deposit
for goods received in the stores.

But though the rich man's money will buy goods, more
than ever of them, there are no longer any people that he can
hire. He can get no services but the public services, and there
are none but can have these as well as he. Hence the millions
of the millionaire are as useless and unmeaning as they would
have been to Robinson Crusoe or in the Kingdom of Heaven,
where it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle
than for a rich man to enter. The rich man has entered here
and no man has robbed him, but his riches have lost their
power and he is no richer than the rest.

We have found our place and played our part in the east
during the time of these transformations, but the desire has

246 Perfecting the Earth.

come upon us again to visit New Utopia, and what were the
arid lands, and we are now on the journey.

We are traveling by the southern route ; where we are now
the desert used to burn with its fiercest heat and no green thing
could live, but we are flitting along through orange groves,
and past plantations of bananas, and gardens of pineapples.
The fragrant guavas grow on the clustered shrubbery at the
foot of yonder cliff, and the pomegranate, more valued for its
splendid flowers, deep cups like tulips, of orange blended into
scarlet and crimson, than for its fruit, for many better kinds
have been developed since the days when the pomegranate was
a favorite. Limes, lemons and figs, too, and almost every kind
of tropical and subtropical fruit, find their place in these
gardens.

Now the sparkling waters of Lake Diaz shine through the
glossy green of the orange groves and among the feathery
plumes of the cocoanut palms ; and now the eye sweeps broadly
over its surface with its hundreds of white sailed yachts.

These waters are now swarming with fish, and the shallows
are thick bedded with the choicest oysters. The grey pelicans
promenade along the shores in regiments and brigades, pick-
ing up any stray mollusk that may have drifted to the beach,
while they vary this occupation with flights over the water in
order to carry on their more active fisheries.

Bathing beaches and picnic groves here and there along
the margin invite the passerby to pause and enjoy the
pleasures of the scene. The mountains to the westward, with
their shady sides toward us, as of old, rise dark against the sky.
The sunlit faces of the nearer cliffs and rocks on our right glow
red and brown and slate colored and grey among the groves
that cluster in their valleys and gorges.

Present Conditions — 1947 A.D. 247

The great girdling canal that carries the waters of the
glacier around to irrigate the plain that used to be the Mohave
desert, is yonder above and beyond those crags, and it spares
on its way water enough to keep all these gardens flourishing
as we see them.

In the farther distance the mountains are clothed in the
same rich lilacs and purples as of old, in varying tints which
must delight the eye forever.

And now far up on our right and before us we catch
glimpses of the great glacier of the San Bernardino, shimmer-
ing white through the leaves as we flit along through the
orange groves. And now, as we run out into the alfalfa
meadows and forage fields that furnish food for the cows in the
dairy of New Utopia, it spreads in all its dazzling brilliancy
before our eyes.

Suddenly our neighbor across the aisle, who has been in-
tently watching the landscape on the left of our course, utters
an exclamation. "In the name of all that's enormous ! What's
that?" Turning in the direction which he indicates we see
swelling out from behind the nearer peak what seems to be
a great spherical bubble, itself of mountain size, resting on a
building of noble architecture as a base. "That," remarks the
conductor, "is a school house."

As we draw nearer, the eye quickly recognizes on the sur-
face of this enormous sphere the familiar outlines of the con-
tinents of the terrestrial globe. But now our train draws near
the southeastern foot of the great flue, and the trellised towers
and the glassy luster of its side are seen towering like a moun-
tain wall high on our right.

Our road curves toward the left, and now we cross the
canyon of the San Jacinto river and are coursing along by the
groves and lawns that clothe the slopes that border the plateau

248 Perfecting the Earth.

on which New Utopia is built, where here and there can be
seen through openings among the trees, glimpses of white
colonnades and stately towers in the city above, while the
mountain background towers darkly behind and the great
sphere that arrested our attention some twenty miles back, now
somewhat behind us, swells grandly over all.

And now our train pauses under the arches that rest on the
long colonnades of the New Utopia station. We step out, and
taking seats in an automobile omnibus are rapidly whirled
along the curving avenues among the lawns and the groves, the
noble palaces and the dainty cottages, and all the beauties of
New Utopia.

Just as we reach our hotel, one of the palatial apartment
blocks that have been described, near the center of the city, the
evening melody floats over and through it all, and the parting
sunlight tips the great glacier of the San Bernardino, yonder
in the northeast, with the whitest of fire. We are warmly wel-
comed, and as we are conducted to the apartments that are to
be our home, on our veteran's right without expense, so long
as we wish to remain in New Utopia, the peace and beauty of
the surroundings pervades us and fills us with a most serene
satisfaction.

Since our former acquaintance with these scenes New
Utopia has spread more widely over its plateau, but the great-
est change apparent to the eye comes from eighteen years of
added growth to the trees. This change is a most satisfactory
one ; it corrects the one defect that art without the help of time
could not remedy, and gives to the scene the only charm it
lacked.

In the course of the city's growth many notable buildings
have been added, and the artistic effort to perfect them all in
beauty and to make every part of the city perfect in the har-

Present Conditions— 1947 A.D. 249

mony of each part with its surroundings, and with the whole,
has been faithfully persisted in, but so far as any description
could go, it is like adding more trees to a forest or new flowers
to a garden.

One building that has been erected and completed since
our former acquaintance here, is the great hall at the city
center. This from its position and purpose was necessarily
made the noblest building in the city, with every architectural
feature wrought to the utmost perfection, and it is the largest
building of all, except the great one on the hill, on which rests
yonder all dominating sphere.

250 Perfecting the Earth.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

That great building- on the hill yonder is worthy of our
special attention. It is the outcome of one of the suggestions
dropped in the box for the people's forum a few years ago; an
idea that so pleased the people that, great as was the work in-
volved, it went through the mill without a check, was finally
adopted, and there it stands in its greatness, unique in all the
earth.

As a suitable site for this building the New Utopians
leveled down the top of a knob of a mountain that formed the
northernmost summit of the San Jacinto group adjacent to
New Utopia, rising from just above the 3,000 feet contour line
that forms the mountain border of the city, and, on the south-
ward or city side of the canyon of the San Jacinto river. The
original elevation of this knob was a little less than 1,000 feet
above its base at the city border, and, by cutting it down 350
feet a plane of rock was formed on which to found the building,
the shortest diameter of which was a little more than half a
mile, and its height above the city border 640 feet.

The material removed from the top of the knob, deposited
above a properly constructed dam face of stone, served to fill
the canyon of the San Jacinto river in a very substantial manner
and so formed a much larger reservoir than any of those origi-
nally constructed in the mountains, which constitutes a very
valuable addition to the city's available supply of water.

This building is fitted to the dome rather than the dome
to the building, and therefore the dome claims our first atten-
tion. This dome is a terrestrial globe, on the scale as exact as
science and art can make it of one in twenty thousand, treating
the earth as a true sphere on the equatorial radius.

A New Utopian Schoolhouse.

251

^

~~ "J-" % "5^

A New Utopian Schoolhouse. 253

This building is, of course, framed of steel, every part be-
ing copper plated and finished as were the towers in the great
flue. The sphere is the simplest, and at the same time the
strongest figure possible. It is also an accepted fact that of all
simple figures it is the most beautiful.

A segment, subtended by 70 degrees of the great circle
only, is submerged in the supporting base of this globe, which
is cut out and the margin rests on a great ring of steel in the
flat roof of the supporting building. This ring rests on a circle
of 36 massive supports of steel, which enter into the frame-
work of the building. Each of these supports consists of two
massively built columns, inclined toward each other and meet-
ing at the top, where they unite in a saddle of steel on which
the basal ring of the great dome rests. These supports are
placed radially at intervals of 10 degrees of the circle about the
center of the building, their columns forming a double circle on
each of its two main floors. The diameter of the circle above, at
the center of support in the steel saddles on which the great
dome rests, is 875 feet. The basal building is hexagonal, in two
stories, of which the second story stands back within the border
of the first, a distance of 75 feet. The front of each face of the
hexagon in each story is a colonnade of Ionic columns, with all
the related parts proportioned according to the rules of classic
architecture.

The portals are at the angles, each of them surmounted by
a figure gracefully sculptured in collossal proportions. The
lower and outer story is 200 feet high, and each of its six faces,
measured along the line of the columns, is 1,100 feet in length.
Hence, of course, the diameter of the building from corner to
corner through the center is 2,200 feet.

The top of this lower story, about the borders of the build-
ing, is an open promenade 75 feet wide, upon which the floor

254 Perfecting the Earth.

of the second story opens. This ceiling of the first story and
floor of the second is supported on steel columns placed hexa-
gonally, in accordance with the general plan of the building,
and 50 feet apart. Each of these columns throws out branches
at 50 feet from the top, which meet the similar branches from
the neighboring columns at the ceiling, thus forming gothic
trussed arches of steel to support the floor of the second story.
The upper story is 150 feet high. The structure of its frame
within is similar to that below, excepting that the great space
within the supporting ring of the great dome, 850 feet wide
in the clear, is left open to the top of the great dome.

Under each of the six angles of this upper story there are
elevator shafts leading from the ground floor to the roof above.
The frame work of the dome itself consists primarily of 36 meri-
dional segments, placed 10 degrees apart over the main sup-
ports below. These meridional frames consist of an external
and an internal rim of steel, each of the same curvature, namely
circular, on a radius of 796 feet minus the thickness of the sur-
face work ; that being the twenty thousandth part of the earth's
equatorial radius. The center of the internal rim is placed 100
feet back and dropped five feet below that of the external one
which supports the surface of the globe. This causes the two
rims to diverge to the distance of 100 feet from each other in
their central portion, while at the vertex, where the several
segments meet, they approach quite near together ; the portions
of the circles which approach and would interfere with each
other below, are cut away in the opening at the base.

The space between these rims is braced and framed with
steel in such a manner as not only to give the strength required
to support the dome, but also to support a floor winding about
the inside of the dome spirally, and rising 25 feet in each circle.

A New Utopian Schoolhouse.

255

A New Utopian Schoolhouse. 257

These meridional frames are braced together on the inner
surface by plates like those of a ship, and on the outer surface
with steel sashwork on the same curvature as the rims. The
supports of the spiral floor serve, too, greatly to strengthen
the structure, that floor being of tile supported on steel. The
whole is surmounted by an observatory 75 feet in diameter and
150 feet high, consisting of a dome supported on columns.

The external surface of this great globe is a map of the
world in glazed tiling on the scale of one to twenty thousand
of nature, which is 3.188 inches to the mile. This permits a
very great degree of detail, and it is desired that every tile shall
be a model of the part of the earth's surface which it represents,
as perfect in form and coloring as it is possible to make it.

Every nation has been invited to contribute to the surface
of this globe the map of its own territory. This invitation
many of the most advanced nations have accepted in whole or
in part. Where these tiles are not furnished they are made
here with such degree of detail as is possible. Whenever any
locality desiring to be honored with fine work on this model of
the earth, furnishes a more perfect piece of workmanship than
that already in place, the original is removed and the finer work
substituted. When any locality prepares to furnish a tile or
tiles for this purpose, very precise information in regard to
where the lines of division between the tiles fall, is, of course,
given to those preparing to furnish them, as also a fac-simile
of the shades of coloring used on the bordering parts of the
map. Each tile corresponds to 10 minutes of longitude and 10
of latitude.

These tiles are grooved along their edges, and fasten to the
framework of the globe by a system of sliding bars and wedges
worked from the inside, a thin layer of cement being also placed
on their adjoining edges. There is a system of steel stanchions,

258 Perfecting the Earth.

also, rising through this tile map, to support a steel cable
track on which observation cars run outside the globe. The
structural meridians of steel in the frame of this globe have no
relation but an accidental one to the earth meridians in the
map. These are so placed that the geographical axis of the
globe is with great exactness parallel to the axis of the earth in
space.

The observatory on the top rests over the Mediterranean
Sea, its center being located in latitude 33 degrees and 40
minutes north, and longitude 18 degrees east. The missing
part below has its center at the antipodes, 33 degrees and 40
minutes south latitude, and longitude 162 west. Sweeping a
circle about this center on a terrestrial globe with a radius of 35
degrees, anyone can see at a glance what is cut out. The miss-
ing portion includes New Zealand, Samoa, the Fejee Islands
and a few others. Australia comes very near the edge of the
map, without, however, being mutilated. As a compensation
for this omission a map of New Zealand, on the same scale and
curvature and mode of workmanship as the general surface of
the great globe, is exhibited in the hall beneath.

Water is represented on this globe by tiles of wavy trans-
lucent glass. The polar regions and glacier surfaces are
modeled in white porcelain. Early summer in the northern
hemisphere is chosen as the season to guide the coloring.

Passing into this building through the grand portal at
either of its six angles, we first enter the great hexagonal hall
on the ground floor, more than one-third of a mile in diameter.
Its central parts are brilliantly lighted day and night by electric
lights ; the great windows, 150 feet high, that fill the walls, ren-
der artificial light superfluous by day for a long distance from
the margin.

A New Utopian Schoolhouse. 259

Conspicuous among the forest of slender columns that
support the ceiling, toward the center of the hall, is the double
circle of massive trussed columns of steel, all plated and
burnished with copper in every part, and each radial pair in the
circle leaning gently toward each other, which are all that can
be seen in this hall of the main supports of the great dome.

In this hall there is an immense and comprehensive
museum of nature and art, equivalent to one of the greater
world's fairs of the last half of the nineteenth century, but vastly
more satisfactory to the mind because here everything is ar-
ranged in such order as to show its evolution from primordial
beginnings in nature, and from primitive simplicity, or in some
cases complexity, in art. The commercialism and desire to ad-
vertise, which furnished the prime motive of the world's fairs,
being absent here, repetitions are avoided and order and system
is made possible, as under the commercial system it was not
possible.

This is a comprehensive use for this hall, and one that re-
quires a large space, yet the greater part of the hall is un-
occupied; it doesn't trouble the New Utopians, however, that
space remains yet unused, to stimulate the genius of the future
for a long time yet to come in finding objects of interest to
place here. To have such a room in waiting to receive such
objects is in itself a good thing.

Taking an elevator, or mounting either of the six grand
stairways if we chose, and ascending to the second floor, we
are in the hall of the sun. The height of this hall varies. The
central part within the supporting circle of the great dome, a
space 850 feet wide, has the top of that dome for its ceiling,
making the height of this part of the hall about 1,600 feet ; from
the edge of this opening to 100 feet from the margin of the hall
the flat roof of the building is its ceiling, supported on steel

260 Perfecting the Earth.

columns similar to those in the great hall below, and the height
of this portion of the hall is 150 feet. All around the margin
of this hall, to the width of 100 feet, the upper hundred feet of
its height is cut out for a gallery, leaving the height of the hall
beneath the gallery only 50 feet. This gallery is not, however,
open to the general hall, but is entirely walled off as a separate
chamber.

The circle of main supports for the great dome, which in
the hall of industry below appears as a double circle of great
columns in pairs, placed on radial lines from the center of the
hall and inclining toward each other, in this hall of the sun is
seen as a similar double circle of massive columns meeting each
other in the rim of the great dome. This circle creates a
marked distinction to the eye between that part of the hall ly-
ing without the circle, which is studded with columns like the
hall of industry below, and the part within where the space is
open upward into immensity.

Why this is called the hall of the sun is evident at a glance,
for in its center, lifted just clear of a low rim of moulding that
surrounds it at a little distance on the floor, is a great, brilliant
golden sphere. This is 142 feet in diameter, it is gilded with
crystalized gold, but one wonders by what art it is made to
shine with such exceeding brilliancy, until we discover that it
is in the focus of a double circle of powerful searchlights, one
circle of such, 36 in number, being contained in the cornice
about the opening of the great dome, and the other within the
rim of the circle that surrounds this sphere on the floor. These
lights each being placed in the focus of a deep parabolic re-
flector, the axis of which is directed toward the center of the
golden sphere, and which reflectors are themselves set deep in
the mouldings of the cornice of the upper and lower circles,
can not be seen unless one gets between them and the model

A New Utopian Schoolhouse. 261

sun, which is not a convenient place to get. This makes a very
pretty method of illuminating this great hall; and the model
sun being directly under the center of the great dome above,
very effectively assists in illuminating its vault also.

Ranged about this central sun are other globes mounted
on orbits of encircling steel rods, supported on slender davits
rising from the floor. These globes represent the planets, each
in its proper relative position with regard to the sun and the
other planets at any given time. These orbits are so con-
structed that their ellipticity shall be true to nature, and the
direction of each planet's axis, with reference to the plane of its
orbit, is true to nature, also. The motions of each planet in its
orbit and on its axis, and the satellites with their motions and
relative positions, are copied true to nature also, their motions
being governed by fine clockwork adapted to the purpose.

The scale of magnitudes chosen for the dimensions of
these models of the planets is 500 miles to the inch, and the
same scale applies to the model of the sun, making each planet
of its proper relative size. The scale of distances is a con-
venient sliding scale ; nothing less than space itself could ac-
commodate such an orrery as this if the same scale were ob-
served in distances as for the dimensions of the planets, and
then the original of nature would be infinitely superior to the
model for purposes of observation.

The earth on this scale is a globe about 16 inches in dia-
meter. Mounted on its orbit in the plane of the sun's center,
it is 74 feet above the floor, and a moving platform is provided
from which to observe it. Its axis is in true relation to the
plane of its orbit, that is inclined 23J degrees, and the clock-
work with which it is ingeniously connected through its mount-
ing causes it to move exactly as the earth itself moves. It is
mounted in a thin transparent hemispherical shell darkened to

262 Perfecting the Earth.

represent the night and fixed on the side opposite the sun, in
which the globe turns on its axis while the shell remains un-
moved. The map can be seen through this shell as if it were
shaded with India ink, but at the edges it clears up into pure
transparency, representing the twilight. Fixed with this shell
are slender metallic meridians 15 degrees apart, marking the
hours of the day, and these hour meridians are continued across
the darkened shell, marking the hours of the night also. By
this device the hour of the day or night at any moment at any
part of the earth can be seen at a glance. The month and
day of the year also are marked on the orbit, and attached to
the mechanism, at a little distance above, is a circle to a point
on which the pole of the earth is directed and which marks the
movement of the earth's axis in the precession of the equi-
noxes ; along this circle are graduations marking the intervals
of 10, 100 and 1,000 years, the numbers corresponding with the
era of our calendar. Thus, on this globe the hour of the day for
any place, the day of the month, the month of the year, and the
year of the era, can all be read at any moment.

The moon, at a distance of eight feet from the earth, the
scale of distances here being one-fifth the scale of magnitudes,
moves true to nature in all its motions, its phases shown by a
mechanism similar to that representing day and night on the
earth; all these are moved with beautiful precision by an
apparatus invented and perfected for that purpose.

The models of the outer planets are each built on the same
scale of 500 miles to the inch, and made to show the char-
acteristic features of the planets represented ; each moves in its
orbit and on its axis in its true time ; no attempt, however, is
made to model the asteroids in this orrery. Jupiter is a shining
sphere about thirteen feet in diameter. Saturn, about eight feet
in diameter, with its rings and satellites, makes a very striking

A New Utopian Schoolhonse. 263

object in the hall. Uranus and Neptune also are very notice-
able objects, the latter running on its orbit very near to the
circle of supporting columns under the margin of the great
dome.

Returning to the central sun, a movable step is placed for
us under it on the south side, and, the attendant touching a
spring, an invisible door opens and we step inside. Then we
mount a spiral metallic stairway to the center of the sphere,
where we reach a platform about ten feet in diameter and sur-
rounded by a railing. The door by which we entered closed
immediately behind us, and now we find ourselves in a hollow
sphere very faintly illuminated by one incandescent light just
over the platform, with a shade above and about it. As our
eyes become accustomed to the gloom, we perceive that we are
in the center of a celestial globe. The door by which we entered
is at the south pole of the heavens ; the shell of the sphere is
pierced to correspond with every visible fixed star, and minute
points of electric light moved in their proper course along fine
wires on the inside of the globe, mark the visible planets each
in its place. Each visible star is made a very little brighter
here than its apparent magnitude in the sky, in order to give
inferior eyes here the power which good ones enjoy in the open
sky. The shell of this great globe, which seen from the out-
side is all alike, is moved about its axis in star time, so that
the apparent position of the stars at any time corresponds
with their position if observed in the heavens at that time ; this
motion is effected through friction rollers moved by clockwork
in the supports on which the globe rests. The platform on
which the observer stands, together with the stairway by which
we ascend, rests on fine casters and remains in its proper posi-
tion by its own weight. The inside of this sphere is painted a
deep blue, arid the milky way and the visible nebulae are
painted in their place with phosphorescent paint in such a man-

264 Perfecting the Earth.

ner that their faint luminosity is scarcely distinguishable from
that with which they appear on a star lit night. Standing here
one seems to be in very truth in the midst of the open heavens
on such a night, with the advantage that no part of the heavens
is concealed by the earth.

Returning to the hall of the sun and looking up into the
great dome above, we perceive that its vault is illuminated by
another orb which is suspended exactly in its center, though
as seen from the floor it appears close to the ceiling. This
represents nothing but a chandelier, though in looking at it
one is apt to think of the moon. The eye not realizing its
distance, it would be impossible to judge its size, but its diam-
eter, we are told, is sixty-five feet. This globe is covered
with frosted aluminum and it is lighted by a triple corona of
powerful electric lights, each placed in the focus of a parabolic
reflector with its axis directed toward the center of the sphere,
so that to the observer the lights themselves are invisible.
The light reflected from this orb illuminates the interior of
the great vault in a manner very satisfactory to the eye. The
inner surface of the great dome itself is lined with frosted
aluminum similar to that on the central orb, and as the eye
wanders over its expanse we perceive that it is set with some
two hundred little balconies, to each of which a door opens
from the gallery between the shells of the dome, and over
each is a line of incandescent lights that twinkle like stars
as one looks up at them.

Proposed designs for the decoration of the interior of this
dome are on exhibition in the offices of the department of
construction in the city hall, where anyone who feels so
moved may submit another. These designs are competitors
for the favor and criticism of the people, but it is not intended
to close the competition and reach a decision in this matter
until 1960, thirteen years hence.

A New Utopian Schoolhouse. 265

CHAPTER XXIX.

(A New Utopian School House Continued — The Gallery of

Evolution.)

All about the margin of the hall of the sun, as has been
specified, the height of the ceiling is reduced to fifty feet. In
each of the six angles is a double elevator shaft reaching from
the ground floor to the roof. All around the six sides of the
hall, between these elevators at the angles, with one excep-
tion, there is an unbroken succession of windows or rather,
except when the weather calls for closing them, open doors,
reaching from the floor to the ceiling and opening upon the
bordering promenade on the roof of the hall of industry. In
the middle of the western face, however, this succession of
open windows is interrupted by a broad stairway ascending to
the gallery above. Mounting this stairway, which in its lower
half rises toward the western wall, but turns on a broad land-
ing and opens into the gallery above toward the north, we
enter the gallery of evolution. *

This is a long gallery, a hundred feet wide, nearly thirty-
three feet high, extending three times round the hall of the
sun, making its length, measured around its outer border, a
little more than three miles. This gallery is designed, so far
as art can compass the end, to put the visitor in the presence,
in appearance, of every stage in the development of the
world, from primordial nothingness to the historic epoch.

It contains a panorama ; the panorama of eternity.

Here where we enter is nothing but the blue of empty

266 Perfecting the Earth.

space on walls, and ceiling and floor; or, perhaps, we might
fancy a slight cloudiness pervades them, but nothing more.
Passing on a little, the cloudiness is unmistakable, and here
art has done its uttermost to depict the first beginnings of a
world and its satellite, indefinite in outline, misty in their
nebulous envelope.

Then it is clearer ; we see depicted a glowing fiery sur-
face below, a glowing satellite above, the sun, broad-faced and
lurid, across the ceiling, blending into cloud in its outline and
less brilliant than the fiery moon. A little farther on, the
scene is darkened as if the earth were swathed in dense clouds
of smoke; neither moon nor sun is seen; the earth's surface
glows a dull red and metallic oxyds are precipitated as a thick
dust upon it, floating here and there on a surface of molten
metal. Again, the scene is cooler, but the vapor yet dense;
a rain of salt covers the planet like a heavy snow.

We go on; the darkness deepens. It rains. It pours.
Lightning here and there breaks the gloom, and here and
there a hot rock repels the falling water in clouds of steam.

Again, it is lighter, but yet dark with clouds. Ocean now
covers the earth, but it is an ocean of hot water, loaded with
minerals in which no creature can live. These scenes, we are
made to understand, cover immeasurable aeons of time.

Again, it is clearer ; the dull sun peeps broad-faced
through the clouds overhead, the dull moon appears half-
way down in the margin. Some of the minerals have crystal-
ized and separated from the water, forming thick beds of
granite in the bottom of the ocean. Here and there swelling
bubbles of land break the surface of the sea, but their sub-
stance is unstable and the waters are agitated in fury so that
as fast as earth is uplifted the swelling land is torn down and

A New Utopian Schoolhouse. 267

again spread on the bottom of the sea. We pass on, and now
the sea is more quiet, its waters are transparent. A brighter
sun, not so broad-faced, shines above ; yonder moon in quad-
rature looks familiar ; we have turned the first angle in the
gallery here and are in the silurian age of geology ; we see
down in the shallow waters where thick-bedded mollusks clus-
ter; there beds of crinoids wave their tentacle fringes, while
trilobites creep and crawl about among them. Yonder is the
great orthoceras; coral beds cover the ocean's bottom; here
are a hundred kinds of marine life thick peopling the waters,
but not a vertebrate among them all. A few low-lying, rocky
banks rise above the water and mosses grow on them in vary-
ing forms, passing from the sea weeds in the water to the
mosses on the margin, and these varying in form and habit
of growth until some of them are fern-like in their luxuriance ;
and mollusks, some with shells and some without, crawl out
of the water to feed on these mosses, and some learn to live
there. Among these primitive and non-specialized forms
variation is easy, and in this scenery a hundred gaps between
form and form are filled with intermediate forms that in later
stages of evolution have perished altogether. Many long ages
are here depicted, but we pass on.

Now a few fishes appear in the water ; a little farther they
have grown many and great and strange of form. We are
now in the devonian age. The land growths also have become
more varied and of higher type.

But we pass by life-sized pictures and modeled scenery,
stretching far, in which the slow evolution of many types by
sea and land appears.

Now from the seaweeds and the mosses a vegetation great
and strange has developed. We enter a forest of tree ferns
and great fluted rushes as high as our gallery will permit

268 Perfecting the Earth.

them and then cut off in the middle for want of room, erect,
leaning, sprawling recumbent, forty, fifty, or sixty feet long
and a foot and a half thick among a dense tangle of marsh
vegetation beneath. The sprawling branches of the lepidoden-
dron interlace themselves over our heads, and great tangled
roots form a thick mat on the marshy ground.

Of the animal types there remain the fish and the mol-
lusks, and the corals as before, though many forms have
passed away. Among the fish, lizard-like types are developing,
and, as in the silurian age, it was with the water mollusks, so
now it is with the fishes, some of the lizard-like variations of
these are taking to the marshy borders for their prey and
learning to live there. Other types have developed, too ; here
and there is a gigantic frog, and insects, on which the frog
has come to prey, are flitting in the air and resting on the
ferns and rushes over the marshes.

This scenery is modeled in aluminum and colored with
exquisite art. Where the modeler's art ends the painter's
begins, and on walls and ceiling so nicely is this painting
adjusted to the modeled scenery between the walls that the
eye hardly distinguishes where the one ends and the other
begins, and the gallery appears as boundless as the wilderness
it represents.

Everything that has been revealed to scientific research
regarding the conditions and variations of life may be found
here, each in its place. The variations of each form may be
noticed as we pass along, so that the process of evolution as
one species varies and gives rise to others, is unfolded to the
eye. Not at a glance, however, as one passes through, can all
this be seen, any more than without careful attention and
study we can see all there is to be seen in nature around us,

A New Utopian School/house. 269

it is the cataclysms and the consummation of epochs that
one notices most on merely passing through. And here such
a change is upon us.

A flood breaks over the scene ; the vegetation is swept
together in great masses, filling valleys and deeply covering
the marshes where some of the heaped-up debris has grown.
Sand and mud is spread over the heaped-up vegetation by the
rushing waters; and now the monstrous vegetation starts
anew above the mud and grows into a tangle more dense than
before. It is the coal period through which we are passing.

But here we have completed one circuit of the building
and are come again to a broad flight of steps which are just
over the stairway by which we entered the gallery. The
scenery continues, however, up the stairs and on.

And now the earth begins to have a more habitable ap-
pearance. The land seems more firm, the waters more open
and clear.

But what is that which seems to be rushing through the
water yonder, half crocodile and half fish, and as long as a
whale? That is the ichthyosaurus. And, see yonder, those
snaky necks and snaky heads rising high above the water,
and the tortoise-like bodies that carry them. The creatures
seem to be fishing yonder on the shallows ; they are the
plesiosaurus. And here, as we enter this grove, is a flight of
strange creatures in the air; they are of various sizes, but
are neither birds nor bats, winged lizards rather; these are
pterodactyls. And yonder, among the rushes by the water's
edge, are the dinosaurus and the iguanodon, and through
these jungles and about these waters wander strange creatures
a-plenty, both great and small, but lizard-like in form and
features nearly all of them. Some are stalking about on their

270 Perfecting the Earth.

hind legs like birds, with their heads lifted high, but dragging
a reptile tail behind them.

A little farther on we come to some lizards whose necks
and legs have grown bird-like, or birds that are lizard-like,
which? Their scales seem to have grown long and split into
coarse feathers ; their reptilian beaks have teeth ; their long-
jointed tails have grown quills, one on each side of each
joint, and by the aid of quilled wings they can fly. These are
the Archeopterix macrouri, and there are variations on the
type.

Yonder in the grove is the great glyptodon with his tor-
toise-like body and head, his crocodile-like tail, and his enor-
mous strength and weight, tearing down trees for his food.

A little farther on, here is the megatherium and other
beasts of various sizes, of mammillian type, but reptilian
features. A new type is coming on the stage, but there are
no breaks in the chain of evolution, and in this gallery nearly
all gaps are filled between fish and reptile, between reptile and
bird on the one hand and between reptile and mammal on the
other. One of these queer links has survived through the
ages to our own time, in the ornithorynchus or duck-billed
platypus of Australia.

These trees and bushes and these water plants grow ever
more familiar and natural in their appearance as we pass on.
The water yonder is full of fish of types common in our own
time; the strange forms common in the devonian age are
gone, but the corals and the mollusks have changed but little
since away back yonder in the silurian age, when their ances-
tors first peopled the seas.

But here, again, we come to the second flight of stairs
and again the scenery continues without interruption as we
pass up.

A New Utopian S choolhouse . 271

Some of the trees that appear about us now, we could
call by name, but the beasts that dwell in these forests and
roam these plains and haunt these marshes are many, and
many of them are great and fierce. Here are great tapirs and
rhinoceroses, and yonder is the little eohippus, the five-toed
ancestor of the horse. And with these come ape-like forms
upon the scene that skip among the trees and live on nuts
and fruit, and down by the sea shore they dig clams to vary
their diet, and they hide themselves among the rocks, and
in the tree tops, and flee from the great beasts which are too
strong for them.

Farther on the great beasts have grown yet more numer-
ous and more fierce, but many of them we could now recog-
nize and call by name. Here is the saber-toothed tiger, and
the great cave bear, and hyenas and lions, all far too large for
their kinds as known to the modern world. And here is the
mastodon, too, herds of them, in the thickets and about the
marshes.

But here our attention is called to a scene that marks
the branching off of another kind. It is near the edge of a
lava flow from a volcano and some dry wood has been burned
by fire spreading from the lava. A group of the larger ape-
like creatures, full of curiosity, are prowling around the ashes
when one of their number burns himself on some smouldering
fire. Like all other animals, these have feared fire, but, angry
and smarting from the burn, this ape snatches the brand that
has burned him and throws it violently away. It lights on
other dry vegetation and a new fire is kindled and the apes
stand shivering by and watch while it burns.

Another scene; one of the young apes returns and stirs
the ashes with a stick and smoke rises again. He puts more
fuel upon it and flames burst forth ; two or three other young

272 Perfecting the Earth.

anthropoids join him, and as the fire burns down they add
more fuel. They seem to like to play with fire as many a
human child in after ages has done. But the older apes are
conservatives, and, with many a fierce claw and cuff and bite,
they express their displeasure at what the youngsters have
done.

A group of these youngsters have, however, learned, with
the help of fire, to start a fire, and, associating with each other,
they take to building fires at the doors of their dens, and thus
they have a great advantage over the others who fear the
fire. They take to using fire in their conflicts with the other
animals, both in attack and defense, and now the fire-using
ape, instead of shrinking in terror away from all stronger
beasts, is master of them all and they flee from him.

The conservative tribes are at the mercy of the weather,
and they are over-powered by the fierce beasts of the forest;
they dwindle out and perish, or, where the climate most
favors them, they leave a posterity of more agile and smaller
monkeys skipping among the trees. But the fire-using apes
advance toward the north and multiply, and make war on the
great beasts and conquer them. They even attack the great
mammoth and kill him. Their brain power, giving some of
them greater readiness in devising expedients to win victory,
or acquire food, or to find or construct shelter and warm it,
becomes a greater and greater factor in their welfare. The
progressive multiply, the conservative perish, and the descend-
ants of the apes that took to using fire are men.

Not yet, however, men such as now people the earth;
their arms are long, they stoop forward, and often fall on all
fours; they skip among the branches of the trees as their
ancestors did before them ; their bodies are clad with hair
and they wear no other garment. Physically they are an-

A Nezv Utopian Schoolhouse. 273

thropoidal apes. Such was miocene and early pliocene man,
"the missing link," but a new variant had been introduced
into the world, namely, mind, and armed with a new weapon,
namely, fire.

We watch this newly endowed creature now as we pass
along the gallery. Gradually, as he becomes accustomed to
the mastery over all animated nature which the use of fire
gives him, he forsakes his tree-climbing habits and takes more
to the rocks. He has become the cave man.

He learns to dig pitfalls in which to capture the larger
beasts on which he preys, and he takes to sharpening slender
poles in the fire and using them as lances in his wars against
the beasts, and against his own kind, too. He takes to bind-
ing splinters of stone in his club to make his weapon more
deadly, and to using sharp splinters of stone as implements
for other purposes. Naturally, too, he learns to break stones
and to shape such splinters roughly to suit the purpose for
which he desires to use them.

And this is all for many ages.

Then some great cataclysm comes on the earth; the great
hairy mammoths of Northern Asia flee in herds and perish
together, and their bodies are covered with snow and em-
bedded in ice before the flesh has time to decay from their
bones, and some of them have remained thus frozen solid
even to our own time. The same great disturbance drives the
denizens of other parts of the earth to perish together in multi-
tudes likewise. Great continents of the earth are strangely
plunged beneath the water and as strangely emerge again,
and this repeatedly. Sand, gravel, clay, earth, and rocks, are
torn from their ancient beds and cast in tumultuous heaps
on the plains and into the waters, and with these cataclysms
came the ice, but certainly the ice did not cause the cataclysms,

274 Perfecting the Earth.

and as certainly their onset was not gradual with the slow pro-
gress of secular changes. Not yet have we read the causes of
these convulsions aright, but the earth was well nigh depopu-
lated. Both man and beast perished, leaving but a remnant of
survivors.

The earth-shudder recurs again and again, while the ice
lies deep on the land. And the snow and ice last long; it
retreats and again advances; and the beasts and the men,
descendants of the remnant that escaped the cataclysms in the
outset, follow its retreat and retreat before its advances; their
tribes are mercilessly weeded out in the struggle; they who
are strong in body and fertile in expedient live ; they who are
slow to change their ways, who adhere strongly to the cus-
toms and conditions to which they were born, perish; not a
conservative survives the sifting, and in the bitter conflict with
unfriendly nature through a thousand generations homo sapiens
is developed.

But there are regions here portrayed that have suffered
less from these convulsions. Yonder, where the ocean inter-
posed a barrier against the ice, a remnant who have fled by
water have found a friendly retreat and developed something of
a civilization. They find metallic copper in thick flakes as
nature deposited it, and, hammering and chiseling these into
such shapes as they wish, they improve their tools and their
weapons.

But now convulsions of nature overwhelm this retreat in
turn, and amidst earthquake and storm and volcanic fires this
favored land sinks beneath the sea. This is Atlantis ; but men
bearing with them the arts of Atlantis have from time to time
wandered elsewhere, to the shores of Britain and continental
Europe, where the conflict with nature, and the natural selec-
tion among men that it carried with it, had lasted much longer

A Nezv Utopian Schoolhouse. 275

and gone much farther than it had when the Atlanteans colon-
ized their island. They had gone to Egypt, also, and colonized
there, where the primitive people of the ancient type vanished
before them. For in Africa, removed beyond the reach and
knowledge of those who were struggling with the ice of the
glacial epoch and the convulsions of nature that preceded and
accompanied it, great regions were scarcely at all affected by
these vicissitudes. There the primeval pithecoid man followed
the natural course of evolution, and the conservative type who
adhered to the ways of their fathers survived and dominated
the race ; to this is due the unprogressive negro type.

But we pass on, and as we go we watch the progress of
the tribes that sprang from those whose ancestors had been
weeded and sifted in the conflict with inhospitable nature amid
the ice and the floods, and all the cataclysms and vicissitudes of
thirty thousand years.

The unprogressive types have been exterminated from
amorcg them, and the ape characteristics are eliminated ; it is a
higher type of man that repeoples the plains of Europe and
Northern Asia as the ice finally retreats ; but the new tribes
jostle and contend with each other, and send out swarms of
emigrants to war against those who have occupied the earth
before them. We are now among a shepherd race, from which
springs swarm after swarm of such emigrants. Their home, we
understand, is Central Asia, and these are the Aryans.

But here we again come to the stairs, and the third and
final spire of the gallery of evolution ends here. The stairs
this time ascend not toward the north as before, but turn
toward the right hand directly eastward. Ascending them,
we find ourselves in a sort of pavilion on the roof of the hall
of the sun which opens on three sides directly upon the flat
top of the building, but on the fourth, the eastward side, it

276 Perfecting the Earth.

opens into a corridor leading directly into the base of the
great dome.

Each of the six elevators at the angles also terminate
in a similar pavilion to this with a similar corridor leading into
the great dome.

These, however, lead to the landings of elevators that run
up the dome to the observatory on the vertex, while this leads
to a short stairway, at the head of which the gallery of historv
begins.

A New Utopian Schoolhouse. 277

CHAPTER XXX.

(A New Utopian School House Concluded.)
THE GALLERY OF HISTORY; AN EXCURSION ROUND THE EARTH.

The door at the end of the corridor by which we enter
the great dome opens in the Pacific Ocean a thousand miles,
more or less, west of Chile.

Turning to the left and mounting a short flight of stairs,
we find ourselves at the beginning of another gallery which
here is about fifty feet in width, though in the course of two
turns about the dome its width expands to a hundred feet.
The height of this gallery is twenty-five feet minus the thick-
ness of floor and ceiling. It stretches interminably before
us bending continually toward the right in its circuit of the
globe. The floor rises as we advance, sufficiently to bring it
in the course of each circuit above the ceiling of the preced-
ing circle, but this rise is imperceptible. There are about sixty
laps in this spiral between its beginning at the base of the dome
and its termination under the vertex, and the whole length of
the gallery is more than fifty miles. During the day the greater
part of this gallery is well lighted through the glass tiling that
represents the water of the earth on the outside map, neverthe-
less artificial light is everywhere provided sufficient to render
the gallery entirely independent of the daylight.

The same combination of models and painting which we
have seen in the hall of evolution is continued in this gallery,
though here the modeling is mostly devoted to the setting of
natural scenery appropriate to the foreground in the time and
locality portrayed, while the historic movement is set forth

278 Perfecting the Earth.

in paintings accompanied by the printed narrative so far as this
is needed ; and here every portion of the gallery is devoted to
a definite epoch, each century and decade being blazoned on
the border under the edge of the ceiling. Each nation and re-
gion of the earth is given parallel space, Africa and the southern
hemisphere being assigned the inner curvature on the right
as we advance.

Everywhere, for every epoch the scenery is true to the por-
tion of the earth depicted at the time represented; it forms the
setting for the historic scenes and permits the portrayal of the
every-day life, the habitations, the arts, conditions, customs, im-
plements, and mode of life of every people in every stage of
their evolution.

At the beginning of this gallery we find ourselves again
in the presence of the Aryan shepherds, to whom we were
introduced at the end of the gallery of evolution, but in paral-
lel lines is scenery portraying the condition of every other
people and part of the earth, concerning which at this epoch
anything is known.

Here we witness the migrations and wars of the Aryan
tribes against their less energetic neighbors, the overrunning
of the plains of Hindostan, the congealation of this type in a
conservatism of its own in Thibet, the colonization of Greece
and Rome, the progress of the Atlantean civilization in Egypt,
and of the Chaldean in Persia and Arminea, while the lake
dwellers yet linger in Europe. We witness the building of the
Egyptian pyramids, and the rise and fall of all the great peo-
ples of antiquity. Scattered along not far from the inner curva-
ture of the gallery are a few pieces giving us hints of conditions
in the unknown western continent through all these ages.

Every event and every condition of life that history has
recorded or archeological research has revealed is depicted

A New Utopian Schoolhoitse. 279

here, and whenever some new delver in the dust of antiquity re-
veals some episode that history had lost and some new artist
portrays it a place awaits it here. And every piece that is
admitted here is accepted provisionally, to remain until some
other artist produces a work that meets its purpose better ; then,
the new work having its truthfulness and its artistic merit
tried in the court of history and being judged worthy to suc-
ceed the old, the substitution is made.

That fidelity to truth under this plan causes much of this
gallery to partake of the qualities of a chamber of horrors is
no fault of the New Utopians, but it is well that history, even
the horrors of history, should not be forgotten as the world
passes into a better era.

But to attempt, on this occasion, to see the history of the
world, or to tell it here, would be absurd. There are nearly
forty miles of it in this gallery, while the upper turns of the
spiral, which belong to the future, are devoted to the ideal. "

In the commercial age, a few years ago, before the con-
struction of such a building, or such a gallery as this could
have been attempted, the question must have been asked : will
it pay? All this work must have been measured in money,
and after it was done it must have paid perpetual tribute to
those who had advanced the funds, or the credit ; and the cost,
so measured, would have been so enormous, and when com-
pleted, the use of the work under the restrictions necessary
in order to raise the required revenues would have been so
limited that the answer must have been quick and conclusive :
no it will not pay, and therefore, under the commercial system
such a building could never have been built.

But did that system pay? When the majority were in
want, and almost all were in the fear and danger of want ; when
they who were in the greatest need could not lift a hand to

280 Perfecting the Earth.

satisfy their need except with the permission and for the
profit of others who had plenty, it was a sorry reward they got
for all their hustling.

Now there is no need to ask that question ; now there is
no want, nor danger of it.

For a long time, as we have seen, the whole population
have been students with ample leisure to develop their talents.
Under the conditions of life prevailing in New Utopia not to be
a student is to demean one's self and lose the respect of one^s
neighbors. Naturally, among these people there are many
artists who are also historians, and many historians who are
also artists. To furnish this great gallery of history, or the
gallery of evolution beneath, is with them a labor of love, and
to have a piece here is an honor to be coveted. If any one
thinks that they who have built this great building and fur-
nished it have taken no pleasure in their work he knows not
human nature ; and for the rational satisfaction which any one
may enjoy in having at his door such an epitome as this of all
that man has ever been or known or done, who would be so
dull and so indolent as to refuse to contribute his effort?

The people of New Utopia had but to compute the num-
ber of days of labor required with the machinery and methods
in use, in order to construct this building, and then to tax
themselves extra hours enough to cover it in a reasonable time,
and the building was constructed. They have worked an extra
hour each day for six years, the retired men up to the age
of sixty at their urgent request sharing the tax, and this build-
ing is the result, completed, paid for and free. The art work is
all amateur work done at the artists' pleasure, and it is free. O,
yes ! It pays.

One may take either of these elevators from the base of
the dome or from any point above, mentioning the century he

A New Utopian ScJwolhouse. 281

wishes to visit, and be landed among the people and the
scenes he wishes to see.

We will take the elevator here to the observatory on the
top of the dome. Entering the car which is suspended in its
running frame, and therefore adjusts itself by gravity to the
level position without regard to the angle of the track along
which it runs, we run out and up and up and in again, turning
gradually to the horizontal direction as we follow the curvature
of the globe. The car halts at an hexagonal parlor under the
vertex, which is ten feet high by 100 feet in diameter.

In the center of this room there are two stairways, one
going up and one going down. The one going down terminates
on a platform, surrounded by a railing, from which one can
look over into the immensity of the great dome and the hall of
the sun beneath. Looked at from this point that central orb
which illuminates the great dome seems to rest on the sun in
the hall below, and is scarcely distinguishable from it. It is
here that the lights must be attended that illuminate that cen-
tral orb. The man who takes care of them moves a lever on
this platform and the rings which bear the lights come sliding
up the rod by which the central orb is suspended until they are
ranged about this platform where the lights which they bear
are swung in and attended to, then the lever being moved
again, down they go to their places.

We will now mount the stairs leading to the outside. We
emerge in the center of an open pavilion, about which is a circle
of twelve stately columns and a light railing, with a gate in
each interval between the columns. Outside this railing in all
directions swells the shining expanse of the great globe.
Mounted by the side of each of the twelve columns is a fine
terrestrial telescope with a six-inch object-glass, through which
one may see all the distant landscape at pleasure.

282 Perfecting the Earth.

In the center of this pavilion, rising- above the opening
of the stairway by which we have entered, is a winding stair-
way leading to the base of the dome above. Mounting this to
the chamber within the frieze that rests on the capitals of the
columns we find ourselves in a small chamber, lighted by one
incandescent light, from which twelve doors open toward the
outside. Passing through either of these doors we find our-
selves in a chamber which, except for a luminous picture
thrown on a screen which it contains, is dark. This picture,
however, is a perfect reproduction of the scene which may be
viewed through the telescope beneath. Each of these chambers
is a camera obscura of the most perfect construction. They
communicate with each other through doors in the intervening
walls in front of the screens, and the twelve of them are so many
eyes on the retina of which all the world about is always pic-
tured and may if desired be photographed at any moment with
microscopic nicety.

Above the landing in the center of this camera circle is a
trap door manhole opening into the interior of the dome of this
observatory in which is stepped the foot of the great flagstaff,
as large as the mainmast of a ship when the masts of ships were
the largest, which rises from the apex of the dome and from
which flies the flag when it is desired to display a flag on this
building; it is run up through a wicket beside the flagstaff in
the crown of the dome. Higher than this we cannot go. We
return to the pavilion of the observatory ; its diameter is seven-
ty-five feet. It is supported on continuations of the steel frame-
work of the great dome, at a height above its map surface just
sufficient to permit a man to walk erect on that surface under
the floor of the observatory. The part of this map surface cov-
ered by the observatory, however, represents nothing but water,
its center being located in latitude 33 degrees 40 minutes north,

A New Utopian Schooihouse. 283

which is the same as the latitude of this building, and in longi-
tude 18 degrees east from Greenwich. Sicily, southern Italy,
Greece, and a part of northern Africa, are near enough for our
inspection from the pavilion, and one cannot fail to admire,
and can scarcely tire of examining, the niceties of the modeling
and coloring of the rugged surface of Sicily with its great vol-
cano of Etna, and of southern Italy with Vesuvius, and Naples
and the mountainous coast of its famous bay, and the islands
lying near. The excavations of ancient Pompeii are visible,
and the southern Apennines all modeled and colored with ex-
quisite precision, and Greece, great for the part which it has
played in the world's progress, even what we can see from this
pavilion is worth coming far to see.

But we will take an observation car and make an excursion
round the world, in twenty minutes if we wish, though we shall
find it profitable to take more time than that.

These observation cars run on steel wire cables mounted
on stanchions bolted in the framework of the dome and rising
through the tile that constitutes the map. These cables, and
the stanchions that support them are too slender to be easily
seen from the ground below, but they are strong enough to
support many times the weight of the car with as many pas-
sengers as it can carry. The cables forming the tracks lie in
parallel pairs and the cars are suspended from a motor appa-
ratus that is hooked over them. Thus suspended the car hangs
level whether above the globe, on its side or under its over-
hanging swell.

One gets a better sense of the relative magnitude of the
regions of the earth by viewing the whole in a model like this,
and it is a rare pleasure to inspect its surface modeled so per-
fectly that every mountain and ravine is there in its proper form
and proportions. Even this building finds its place on this map

284 Perfecting the Earth.

in correct proportions in a model nearly an inch and a half
high.

It is as if we had been magnified into giants towering to
the height of twenty miles, the earth remaining as it is, except-
ing that gravity, instead of holding us on its surface, is for the
greater part of the way trying to pull us off.

Seen from the ground anywhere about the foot of the
hill on which this building stands this globe looks exactly as
the earth itself must look if seen from a distance of three or
four times its own diameter.

But our car is on its way. Its course is guided by switches
to any part of the globe we may wish to visit, and we run down
its northwestern side to the shores of the polar sea ; thence fol-
lowing the line of the Rocky mountains and the Andes from
the Arctic ocean to Cape Horn ; crossing the Atlantic now to
near the Cape of Good Hope we skirt the eastern border of
Africa to near the equator ; now crossing the Indian ocean we
pass over Hindostan, Burmah and China; sweeping around
north to the pole, we return by the way of the North Cape,
the Scandinavian peninsula, the British islands, and thence by
way of France and Italy to our rendezvous in the Mediter-
ranean sea. We have had a great excursion, truly.

A Journey — New Utopia to Mount Ceres. 285

CHAPTER XXXI.

It is one o'clock p. in. We are again on the rail, travel-
ing over the desert road that was built during that first hurry
season to bring the army down from Fort Goodwill to winter
in the milder climate of southern California.

Immediately after leaving the New Utopia station we pass
through the great flue. The altitude where the railway crosses
it is only 1,800 feet, nevertheless a perceptible chill and damp-
ness creeps into the car during the ten minutes of our transit.
Emerging on the west side of the flue we are at once among the
orange orchards and gardens of Redlands and San Bernardino.
Through these, with a momentary stop at each of these towns,
we continue for two hours ; then bending around the western
end of the San Bernardino range we push out into the plain
that was the great Mohave desert. Here with the great glacier
shining high and white on our right and behind us, for more
than a hundred miles we run through wheat fields and meadows
that are now watered from that glacier.

There are no fields more fertile than these and none on
which the crop is more sure, all the conditions on which it de-
pends being absolutely under control. All this region is, of
course, cultivated under the power system, the power imme-
diately used being electricity derived from liquid air engines
instead of from water power as originally used for that purpose.
Indeed, water power sufficient for this purpose could not have
been had here, but when the heat of the earth will move our
machinery it is even cheaper than water power, besides being
always on hand when wanted. The labor that would have been
necessary to farm this Mohave desert without the liquid air

286 Perfecting the Earth.

power, even if steam power had been used in its stead, would
have been many times greater than it is.

As the sun is sinking toward the western horizon we draw
near the mountains again, and soon we come to the town of
Vitre.

This is a pleasant little town consisting of four Fort Good-
will blocks, that is just a mile square ; its terrace overlooking
the salt lake of southern California on the east and its mountain
spur behind it on the west, have already been described, but it is
all embowered in trees now and its gardens and its parks over-
spread the rugged valley toward the northwest, in which the
water supply of the town is gathered.

The glass factory is here yet. Excepting its own services,
that is the only industry of the town ; it produces most of the
plate glass used west of the Mississippi, besides a hundred
other forms of glassware, but it has never had another order
like that for glass to enclose the great flue, nor is it likely to
have another such, hence the glass works are not nearly so
large as they were when first established.

Night closes in on us here, and we retire to our sleepers.

We pass in the night two extensive wheat districts; the
first, inNevada, which we enter only about forty miles north of
Vitre, covers the ground formerly known as the Amargosa
and Ralston deserts.

The second is in southwestern Utah in the region shown
on the old maps as Escalante valley. Neither of these districts
were irrigable to such a degree as to fit them for agriculture
until the increased precipitation occurred after the completion
of the great flue and the glaciation of the San Bernardino
heights. Both of these districts are cultivated by forces from
Mount Ceres, camping temporarily in their vicinity; they are

A Journey — New Utopia to Mount Ceres. 287

known as wheat districts, but, of course, wheat is alternated
with other crops in these districts as elsewhere.

In this great scale farming, by the commonwealth, there
are many advantages besides the application of power ma-
chinery which were entirely out of the reach of the old style
individual farmer, one of which is the ability successfully to
contend with insect pests. An example of this occurred in the
season when the southern Nevada tract was first made ready
for cultivation. The Hessian fly had been detected in the Fort
Goodwill wheat fields the previous fall, and again in the spring
the little pest was found plying his vocation with his usual
industry. They were not numerous enough as yet to damage
the crop much, but what their presence meant was understood
well enough, and in recognition of the presence of the Hes-
sian fly not an acre of wheat was sown that year nor the year
following in all the Fort Goodwill district, and every other
crop in which the pest could live was plowed und,er or re-
mained unsown while the ground was devoted to cultivated
crops. Meanwhile the full crop of wheat was grown in the new
territory.

When after two years of this treatment 250 square miles of
wheat were again sown in the Fort Goodwill district the fields
were as free from the pest as when they were first reclaimed
from the desert.

If the old time farmer could have plowed up his pest-
ridden fields and put two or three hundred miles between them
and the nearest crop that could harbor the pest, he might have
exterminated the Hessian fly and the wheat midge and all
other insect pests that brought his labors to naught, but with
his neighbor's wheat field just over the fence from his own, no
matter how faithfully he might endeavor to cut off the ene-

288 Perfecting the Earth.

mies' supplies, the foe was always ready for the first new crop
that he might sow.

When we renew our observations in the morning we are
coursing swiftly through the valleys and passes of the Wah-
satch mountains. But how the region has changed from what
it was when the road was built thirty-three years ago. Then
it was savage in its desolation, in every open valley or long
slope one might have watched the course of a jack rabbit as
he skipped away, until he vanished in the far distance, but now
everywhere there is a healthy young forest growth. The
rocky summits of the peaks, and here and there a vertical cliff
or a jutting crag, lift their rugged forms grandly above the
foliage, but all the slopes are covered with trees and all the
valleys are filled with the forest. We notice the foresters' sup-
ply stations as wre pass, but all this region is without permanent
inhabitants. Soon we enter the Utah central, or Mount Ceres,
irrigated district, and note its long aqueducts of stone stretch-
ing away in the distance; and its power sheds, and its grain
fields and its meadows, and its great orchards of peaches and
pears, and its vineyards, for here it is that all the fruits of the
middle latitudes thrive best. The daily trains, with cars cooled
by liquid air, deliver even the most perishable of fruits at the
catacombs of New Utopia or the cold storage vaults of Fort
Goodwill, or in any other town, in perfect condition.

After sixty miles of this region our train sweeps out on
a magnificent bridge of steel, crossing the Green River canyon,
then after following up the canyon for a short distance on its
eastern side and bending round a curve toward the right it
stops in the station of Mount Ceres.

From the railway station of Mount Ceres, or from the
dairy and stock district of the town, which is located a little
further on between the railway track and the foot of the mesa,

A Journey — New Utopia to Mount Ceres. 289

we ascend to the city by an inclined plane railway. The de-
clivity bordering the mesa is covered with trees and vines and
shrubbery with here and there a grassy terrace, all of which
are watered according to their need, from above.

The plan of the city is essentially like that of Fort Good-
will, and it is built on a shoulder of the mesa, which consti-
tutes a terrace bordered above by a second escarpment rising
to the general level of the plateau, about a hundred feet higher.

We halt here especially to view the works by which water
is supplied to the city and to the great mesa that was chosen
for its site, making our home while we stay in one of the fine
hotels about half a mile back from the head of the incline by
which we entered the city.

We have chosen for our stopping place one of the most
lofty edifices in Mount Ceres in order that we may have the
benefit of an unobstructed view of the landscape lying about the
city.

We mention this object to the custodian of the building,
and ascending the elevator, we are conducted to a room oc-
cupying a sort of turret or tower that forms a picturesque fea-
ture in the architecture of the hotel.

It is on the sixth floor, and opens on one side, on a roof
bower, and on the other three sides by balcony windows di-
rectly to the distant landscape. It has the usual gas fireplace
and every furnishing that could promote comfort.

From our windows the geometrical plan of the adjacent
blocks is spread out before us, and among the trees that are
grouped in the garden plots and border the roadways the
pretty houses are peeping through, and the groves and shrub-
bery and lawns in the angle squares, enlivened with bright
beds of flowers, and the domes and towers and colonnades of
the public buildings rising here and there above the foliage,

290 Perfecting the Earth.

make a picture very pleasant to the eye. But it is the back-
ground of the picture, the distant landscape, that is noteworthy
and unique.

Standing- on the balcony of one of our north windows we
see spread before us, and stretching away to the eastward until
it blends with the pale blue mountains of Colorado a hundred
miles away, the eastern division of the Mount Ceres agricul-
tural district. Its nearer part is not too distant to permit us
to see the lines of power sheds that separate it into fields half a
mile wide ; a number of the stone aqueducts are also visible in
a long succession of arches stretching across the country as
the Romans built aqueducts of old. Behind all this rises the
dark wall of the Roan Cliff mountains with their undulating
sky line, terminating directly north of us in a deep notch
through which the Green River canyon comes down from the
north. From this gap across the plain, toward us and passing
to the left, lies the dark chasm of that canyon now bordered
with forests, and beyond this chasm toward the west lies the
western division of the agricultural district, more broken to the
eye by ravine, mountain and mesa than the eastern division, but
clothed in verdure everywhere. On the western side of the gap
through which the canyon creeps, the mountain wall rises steep
to an altitude two thousand feet greater than that attained by
the Roan Cliff mountains on the eastern side of the gap ; it is
under that steep declivity that the tunneled canal comes down,
carrying the waters of the Green river from the Fort Goodwill
district.

Through that gap, in the dim azure distance, another
mountain peak is seen. That is Emmons peak, the loftiest
of the Uintahs, which lies beyond Fort Goodwill about a hun-
dred and forty miles away.

292

Perfecting the Earth.

ount Ceres

A Journey — New Utopia to Mount Ceres. 293

Taking our position now at an eastern window the ex-
panse of the eastern corn fields, now at our left, stretches away
as before. Directly before us and toward the right, the green
park on the mesa rises above the buildings and groves of the
city, while a massive swell of the Rocky mountains sixty miles
away in Colorado forms a dark purple background to the
whole. To the right of this a nearer mountain mass looms up,
capped by four lofty peaks which stand ranged like saw teeth
against the sky from the west to the southwest; the northern-
most of these is Mount Waas, reaching the height of 12,500
feet, the second is Mount Tomasak, 12,270 feet high ; the third
is Mount Peale, 12,100 feet high ; the fourth Mount Tukuhni-
kivatz, 10,815 feet. These peaks are the cresting on the roof on
which the water supply of Mount Ceres is gathered ; the swell
from which they rise abuts close on the Grand River canyon ;
the distance of the peaks from Mount Ceres varies from forty
to fifty miles ; they look as if one might walk to them before
breakfast, but anyone who should try it would find that he had
more than a day's work before him, even if the canyon did
not interpose its impassable barrier.

To the southward of this group of great peaks at about
double the distance is another group with four more peaks
ranged along in order ; these are the Abajo (lower) mountains.
Still farther west and curving up toward the north, at about the
same distance as the Abajo mountains, another range of fouf
great peaks notch the horizon. These lie west of the great
Colorado canyon, and northward from these, behind the forest-
clad swells of the nearer uplands, the peaks of the Wahsatch
range break the sky line with a dim undulating band of azure.

Mount Ceres, as its name implies, is an agricultural city
to a greater extent than is Fort Goodwill. It is from here that
the forces go out to cultivate and harvest the wheat and the

294 Perfecting the Earth.

corn fields on the great irrigated plains from California to
Colorado. In the dairy and live stock lines the two cities, Fort
Goodwill and Mount Ceres, are about equal, these industries
being essentially parts of the public service tributary to the
city to which they belong, but Fort Goodwill, from its more
northern latitude, its elevation, its accessibility, and its water
power, is better adapted to iron works and general manufac-
tures, while Mount Ceres is more central to the irrigated dis-
tricts of the arid lands as a whole, and was therefore chosen
as the center of the agricultural operations fry which the eight
millions of people who now inhabit the arid lands are fed.

The next morning after our arrival in Mount Ceres we
take an automobile and set out to see the works by which the
city and plateau are watered. Here, of course, except hydrants
in their proper places of all sizes for all uses, there is nothing
of the waterworks to be seen.

Our road leads toward the southeast. Like all completed
highways in this new commonwealth, it is a well paved avenue
with its adjacent grounds artistically kept in order. Our car-
riage bowls along through the fair city and up the grade to the
upper plateau ; thence through three miles of landscape garden,
followed by orchard and vineyard and forest and meadow in
pleasing alternation for twelve miles, before there is anything
to be seen pertaining to the waterworks excepting that we
know that every green thing in sight is dependent on those
hidden waterworks for its life.

But now we are in the center of the mesa, and here the
land reaches the highest level attained anywhere on its face.
On this swell about two hundred feet above the level of the
city a reservoir has been built a mile square, retaining the water
enclosed to the depth of 45 feet.

A Journey — New Utopia to Mount Ceres. 295

About the border of this reservoir is a terraced embank-
ment,, which is all we sec of it as we approach at its northwest
corner. Here, while the main highway divides, one branch
continuing southward parallel to the foot of the embankment
and another turning eastward, likewise parallel to the em-
bankment, there is a grade leading up to the summit, up which
we guide our vehicle and continue our course along the boule-
vard that we find on the top of the terrace. Here we have the
lake-like expanse of the water on our left and the young forest
beneath us on our right, while the way is bordered with the
choicest flowers on either hand.

For a mile and a half we follow this boulevard to the
middle of the southern side of the reservoir, at which point a
combined stone aqueduct and bridge abuts on our embankment
leading in from the south. Our boulevard, curving in from
each side, continues on the same level over this bridge; but
here we may pause and see the waterway beneath the pave-
ment of the highway. This we find consists not of an open canal
like those of the irrigating aqueducts, nor yet of a closed one,
but of two iron water mains lying side by side, each seven feet
in diameter.

Across the mesa from the south as far as the eye can
reach this aqueduct and bridge extends, built on graceful stone
arches, as of old the Romans built their aqueducts, but with
more pains taken in its architectural embellishments than the
Romans ever took with any aqueduct of theirs. We continue
our journey over this bridge fifteen miles in a straight line and
on one continuous level. As we pass over the gently undulat-
ing surface of the mesa our height above the ground varies, now
it is nearly a hundred feet. Yonder on the swell perhaps not
more than twenty ; at two places, where the level of the bridge
approaches that of the ground, there are cross roads connect-
ing with the bridge.

296 Perfecting the Earth.

The country here consists of alternating- forest and grass-
land, forest bordering the mesa also, and clothing its escarp-
ment wherever trees can find a foothold. These grasslands are
mostly used for sheep pasturage.

The gentle breeze that fans us as we ride along the bridge
is invigorating; the landscape spreads before us and about us
in magnificence, and that the enjoyment of our ride may be
prolonged we so moderate the speed of our vehicle that an
hour is consumed in traversing this fifteen-mile straight reach
of our bridge, then we reach a point where it bends about thirty
degrees to the eastward and changes from stone to steel. We
are now approaching the edge of the mesa and as we do so
the land sinks away from our level until we are from one hun-
dred and fifty to two hundred feet above its surface. Now we
reach that edge and our bridge assumes the cantilever type,
while, as we run out over the canyon, the land below us sinks
away to dizzy depths. We follow our aerial highway across
the canyon at a height, one would think, to make an eagle's
head reel, but with practice one gets used to viewing distance
in the vertical direction as well as in the horizontal.

The supporting towers of this bridge that rise from the
bottom of the canyon reach the height of two thousand feet ; on
either side there are others that have their bases at higher
levels, but even these tower to heights greater than was attained
by any bridge previously built.

There are eight miles of this steel bridge from the angle
on the mesa where it begins, to where we touch ground again
on the other side of the canyon. Where we reach terra firma
on the left bank of the canyon there is a tributary ravine on our
left coming down from the plateau between the upper and lower
mountain groups. The acqueduct along the course of this
ravine assumes the type of a covered canal with different

A Journey — New Utopia to Mount Ceres. 297

levels, the water in which is controlled by automatic valve
gates, being finally admitted to the great conduit pipes on the
bridge under the pressure of fifty feet head. Our road rises
two or three hundred feet in the five miles of its course parallel
to this ravine, then we come to one of the great stone dams so
characteristic of the hydraulic operations of the army during its
career of usefulness. This dam lies across the valley from
which the ravine we have been following originates. Its height
is 250 feet, and it is three-quarters of a mile long. Above, the
valley spreads out to a width of from three to five miles and to
the distance of ten miles back it now forms a lake.

Before these works were built this valley and all the lands
adjacent were as dry as Sahara; even the sage brush and the
cactus were abnormally scarce here. Whenever any rain fell
in this region the baked and naked earth shed it like a roof,
and it ran off into the ravines and canyons all about, leaving the
land as dry as before. To collect these waters, together with
that derived from the melting snow on the mountain tops,
canals were constructed girdling the northern mountain group
and leading into the reservoir lake which had been prepared
to receive them.

There are advantages in ditching on a mountain side, for
there by properly laying out your course, with very slight
changes in the direction of your ditch, you can make it so that
the water will run either way ; you can gather the drainage from
all the higher levels and conduct it where you please. Here in
effect eave troughs were laid all about the 900 square miles
and more of roof, of which the four great peaks of the northern
group are pinnacles and cresting, while the valley above the
newly-built dam constituted a cistern to receive the water
which these eave troughs would collect. These collecting
canals, however, were not simple ditches ; besides being built in

298 Perfecting the Earth.

the most substantial manner that engineering science could
devise, in each descending- valley where it was possible to do
so auxiliary reservoirs and ponds were constructed on them ;
these when once filled served to equalize the flow and make it
constant, at the same time nearly all the sediment washed
down from the higher slopes is deposited in these auxiliary
ponds and the water comes to the main reservoir transparent
and pure.

Similar collecting canals were at the same time con-
structed on the south side of this reservoir to collect the water
that might fall on the higher plateaus in that direction and on
the northern slopes of the Abajo mountains, in which those
plateaus terminate. This added a thousand square miles more
to the roof that collects water for this cistern, and though as
arid as any roof, the combined 1,900 square miles of water shed
proved ample to fill the reservoir and provide a very good
outflow the next season after the works were constructed.
After the change of climate caused by the great flue and the
glacier of San Bernardino, the precipitation on these heights
became much more copious and more frequent, then these
slopes and plateaus also were planted to forest trees, and now,
here as elsewhere, much of the water that formerly ran off
the earth, as it would run off a roof, is retained by the roots and
leaves to percolate into the earth, some of it to reappear in
springs, and to be delivered with a steadier flow free from the
mud and gravel that formerly were carried in the torrents.

Here, as everywhere now, the desolation of the desert has
disappeared, the young forest clothes the mountain sides as
with a garment, while the new lake at our feet vitalizes the
great mesa yonder and supplies the city of Mount Ceres with
water enough so that fountains may gush at every doorstep
and rivulets laugh by every wayside.

Fort GoodwiH Again. 299

CHAPTER XXXII.

Fort Goodwill and Mount Ceres are more densely peopled
than New Utopia, though there are in New Utopia more peo-
ple to the house than in either of them. In New Utopia the
great edifices admitting grandeur of architecture, and contain-
ing many apartments, predominate, while small individual
houses are interspersed for variety. In Fort Goodwill and
Mount Ceres small private houses predominate with large pub-
lic buildings regularly distributed among them, and with occa-
sional blocks of apartments thrown in for variety.

The plan of Fort Goodwill and Mount Ceres is geometri-
cal, its purpose being to group together as many residence lots
as possible on a given area, while making those lots ample for
lawns and flower gardens, for shade and sunshine, and at the
same time providing the most direct lines of passage possible
in every direction.

The plan of New Utopia is esthetical ; essentially the city
is a park, the buildings being worked in with prime reference
to preserving its beauty as a park, while furnishing all possible
conveniences to their inhabitants. Primarily Fort Goodwill
and Mount Ceres are cities, the park features of their resi-
dence portions being secondary, and their special parks de-
tached.

The cities are for different purposes and for different
classes of people. Fort Goodwill and Mount Ceres are indus-
trial cities, their people are mostly under fifty years of age,
are encouraged to be householders, and usually have families
of the normal size. Children need a home all their own, with
direct access to the earth. An hotel or a block of flats is no fit

300 Perfecting the Earth.

place for them ; but with the veterans retired at fifty it is differ-
ent; their children have usually reached maturity and have
homes of their own; the old people need the closer associ-
ation with their neighbors, which a well-appointed hotel or
block of apartments permits. New Utopia is chiefly for this
class.

No one is required to leave the scenes of his active life
on reaching1 the age of retirement unless he wishes to do so,
but the privilege is open for such veterans among the citizen
tenantry to make their homes in New Utopia if they so desire.

Those in active life are held subject to transfer to other
localities if the needs of the service require such transfer, but
in practice such transfers are always made by volunteers.

And yet Fort Goodwill and Mount Ceres are pleasant
cities in which to live. Their houses though small are all artis-
tic ; well tended roses and flowers of many kinds bloom about
the porches. All have ample lawns and space for the cultiva-
tion of flowers according to their fancy, and all front on streets
that are park avenues, with well shaded lawns and no fences.
Groves of trees growing on the open corners in the varied
beauties of many species peep over the smaller houses, and
offer most inviting shade in the angle squares of the blocks and
at the intersections of the streets and avenues. The great pub-
lic halls at the corners of the blocks lift their columns, their
domes and their towers, over and among the graceful tracery
and waving branches of trees chosen of such kinds as will best
adorn the place where each is planted.

The parks are more forest than glade; of clipped lawns
and groups of shrubbery and trees trimmed with artful pre-
cision, of nature combed out of all resemblance to herself, one
grows tired, but of the forest and nature uncombed one never
tires.

Fort Goodwill Again. 301

The long range beauty of the Fort Goodwill landscape,
the purple and the azure of the distant mountains, the varied
outlines of the peaks against the sky, the swelling shoulders of
the nearer hills, the cliffs and the terraces, all these remain as
they were. Their changes, for all things change, are of the
aeons of eternity, not of the years of man ; to man these greater
features of the landscape are as if they were eternal, for they
are of the mountains and the amosphere, but the desolation
that once spread over the foreground has departed.

How desolate is a treeless land! Buildings most perfect
in their architecture are dreary and naked and tiresome until
clothed and veiled with trees.

How beautiful a thing is a tree ! How surpassingly full of
beauty is a forest, where nature, while pruned with a loving
hand, is not restrained with too tight a rein nor combed too
smooth ! His eyes have not been opened who cannot feel the
sentiment so beautifully expressed by Francis Bourdillon :

"O'er land and sea I'd travelled wide,
My thought the earth could span,
But wearily I turned and cried
O little world of man !

"I wandered by a green wood side

The distance of a rod.
Mine eyes were opened and I cried,
O mighty world of God !"

The eyes of these people have been opened ; the flowers of
the field and the wild things of the wood have come to share
their loving regard, and the pretty creatures of the forest have
grown tame. When the school children play in the groves the
squirrels hop about among them, or, with their tails curled over
their backs in Hogarth's line* of beauty, they sit up on their
haunches before the children to beg for food ; and they seldom

302 Perfecting the Earth.

ask in vain, for every child has learned to carry a cracker or
two in his pocket to feed them, and there isn't a child among
them that would betray the confidence of a squirrel or hurt it
for anything in the world.

"He prayeth well who loveth well both man and bird and beast,
He prayeth best who loveth best all things both great and

small,
For the dear God that loveth us, he made and loveth all."

And that is the kind of religion in which the people of
Fort Goodwill are training their children.

But it is to spy out the land that we are come, and we will
take an excursion to the canyon and thence down that mighty
gorge until we can turn and come back by another way from
that by which we go.

There are but two of us for the trip, you the reader, and I
the writer. For our conveyance we take light, single, motor
cycles ; starting in the early morning while yet the dew sparkles
on the grass and the flowers and the robins are singing their
morning song.

This is not a fashionable hour, but if any unfortunate has
never experienced the pleasure which the freshness of the day's
awakening in early summer has to give him, let him try it,
better at an even earlier hour, before the sunrise, and feel the
thrill, the exhilaration, the delight with which nature awaken-
ing from sleep will inspire him.

Our way lies through the southeast avenue. Three and a
half miles from the city hall our course is through the city.
The rising sun low down on our left sends long, slanting beams
of light through the openings among the trees and shrubbery
and houses across the perfect pavement. These morning rays

Fort Goodwill Again. 303

illuminating the clustered groves and columned porches on our
right make the festooned roses and the iris and the daffodils,
the honeysuckle, the clematis and the ampelopsis to sparkle
and glitter with a myriad diamonds of dew, and the odor of
pinks mingled with roses permeates the air of this glorious
June morning, while our motor cycles, Light but strong, cours-
ing swiftly side by side and curving obedient to the slightest
impulse, fill us with a sense of freedom and of power. Ten
minutes carry us to the border park which encircles the city on
its southern or lower side. Here the landscape gardener's art
finds free play, with all the resources of nature, from the largest
trees of the forest to wild flowers and the grass for its material.

Three-quarters of a mile diagonally across the park brings
us to the descent from the terrace, which we remember coin-
cides with the altitude of 6,000 feet above the sea. To
the slope of the lower plain the descent is 250 feet, which the
grade of the avenue distributes through half a mile. This de-
clivity is included in the border park.

At its foot we come to the high level irrigating canal from
which the orchards are irrigated, and crossing this channel we
are in the orchards. Here apple trees, in prime vigor, broad
spreading but well trimmed and clean cultivated, cover the
earth until their branches almost meet. The young apples at
this season we cannot see as we ride past, because small and
green; to the eye they blend with the leaves. A month ago
these trees were in blossom ; there were forty square miles of
apple blossoms in this orchard. The odor of the apple blossom
is not strong, but it is characteristic, and we are told that when
this orchard is in bloom it is distinctly perceptible a hundred
miles to the windward.

Our way is broad and straight and well paved, but there

304 Perfecting the Earth.

are no fences to harbor weeds and obstruct the view and impart
to wayfarers a sense of limitation. The birds here are myriads,
and they make this orchard vocal with their morning song.
The American robin delights in the forked branches of an apple
tree above all places for its nest, and they, together with the
song thrushes and nuthatches and waxwings and whippoorwills
and nighthawks and swallows, and others, a selected variety of
insectivorous birds are colonized here, and fed according to
their needs ; they are well worth their keep and more, for their
aid in destroying harmful insects.

Three and a half miles through this orchard and we come
to the main irrigating canal, which we cross. Beyond this
canal to the forest bordering the canyon all to the right and
southward are the lands cultivated under power. Our road,
however, turns to the left up the canal.

In this direction the canyon's border draws near to the
level of the canal, and the land growing steep and rocky is
devoted to timber.

Our road enters the forest within a mile of the bridge by
which we crossed the canal. Here on the border between the
cultivated land and the forest we come to the first fence we
have seen on our journey. It is a strong and high one of
woven wire, designed to keep the deer that inhabit the wood-
lands out of the cultivated fields. A gate in this fence across
our road opens at our approach and closes again automatically.
We plunge into the forest where our road becomes a
curved one, winding according to the lay of the land. A mile
and a half of this brings us to the head of the incline by which
we are to descend into the canyon.

Up the canyon five miles further east there is another in-
cline similar to this, and at that point also is the main bridge

Fort Goodwill A gam. 305

crossing the canyon to the White River division of the agricul-
tural lands. The approach to that would have taken us five
miles out along the eastern avenue, and that would have been
the course for us to have taken if it had been our intention to
go up the canyon to the great dam, or to have visited the
nurseries of the board of forestry, which are not nearly so
extensive now as they were twenty-five or thirty years ago;
that route, however, would not have taken us through the
orchard, which we wished to see, and we are going down the
canyon instead of up.

The incline by which we descend is a double covered way
with a moving platform on each track, one being up when the
other is down. It operates like an ordinary elevator and needs
no attendant. Wheeling our cycles on the platform we enter
and descend.

Our road now winds along the bottom of the canyon. The
bed of the river since the water has been diverted to the canal
above is usually nearly dry, but there are bridges over the
channel where its windings intercept the way; where jutting
points of rock encroach there are tunneled arches cut through,
or galleries cut in the face of the overhanging wall; where
craggy places and precipitous cascades intervene, smooth
causeways of stone have been built.

For motor carriages or bicycles, or horseback excursions
when parties prefer that mode of travel, a beautiful- road has
been constructed along the bottom of this canyon all the way
from the great dam to its junction with the Grand River can-
yon below Mount Ceres, where the great Colorado canyon
begins, and along the course of that it is now in progress.

Here of old all was naked, inhospitable, savage in its wild-
ness. Now the rocky walls of the canyon thrust their pro-
montories out through the foliage of a hundred kinds of trees

306 Perfecting the Earth.

while their precipitous sides are draped and festooned with
clinging- vines. Groves of mountain spruce thrust up their
dark spires to peep over rocky ledges out of the depths of pre-
cipitous abysses rendered more dark and deep and grand by
their presence. Here the hemlock drapes with its dark feathery
green the precipitous sides of a hundred rocky gorges. Young
hemlocks : what can be more beautiful than they, combining
as they do all the graces of the evergreens and the deciduous
trees, their plumy spires with heavily drooping branches im-
penetrable to the eye, their myriads of dark green glossy leaflets
each spread so flat, all set so thickly in the spring and early
summer with delicate tassels of pale green at every growing
point, followed later in the season by clustering little cones
turning from pale green to brown, and at all times loading
every breeze with their fragrance.

There's grandeur in pine, and there's beauty in cedar,
In the beech and the oak and the ash tree so tall,

In the droop of the elm, in the spread of the maple,
But the young growing hemlock outshineth them all.

Along the margin of the channel cluster the white boles of
the sycamores with their thin spread branches, their broad
leaves, and in the fall and winter their dangling clusters of
balls hanging on the branches after the leaves have fallen.

Yonder on the sunny side of the chasm spread the fern
like whorls of the butternut leaves on their irregular sprawling
branches, and, just a shade darker in color and smaller in size,
more compact in habit of growth and stronger in odor, is the
similar foliage of its cousin the black walnut. Nearly every tree
of the forest has its characteristic odor by which a blind man
might recognize it.

Over the tops of the cliffs above bend the branches of the

Fort Goodwill Again. 307

white oak and the sugar maple; on the flats in the bottom,
mingled with the sycamore and the willow, are the widespread
drooping branches of the elm ; here and there on a dry knoll of
talus, singly or in clusters, rise the dry stiff forms of the
hickory, and the broad leafed basswood, so prolific of honey
and buzzing with bees, spreads its shade over the way in a
hundred places. The wild grape vine here and there climbs
among the branches of the trees, now in their season not less
interesting to the bees than are the basswoods. The cucumber
tree also is here, and the pepperidge, and the chestnut, and
where the walls open a cool face to the northward with damp
ground at their foot the white cedar raises its graceful spires in
groups and clusters, and sheds its fragrance in the air. In fact
one who knows the trees and loves them, whether he comes
from the north or the south, the east or the west, on this
journey can scarcely miss any acquaintance.

And squirrels play among the branches, and now and then
with a whirr the ruffled grouse or partridge, the drummer of
the maple sugar camps, starts up and darts away like a rocket ;
later in the season, when brooding young, the mother bird
of this species will flutter away from the foot of the pass'er by
as if wounded and disabled, while her chicks hide themselves
under the leaves, and one who knows their habits can gather
a hatfull of the little brownstreaked beauties ; when he has
observed them to his satisfaction and let them go their mother
will quickly take charge of them again.

If we sit quietly a while on one of these mossy fragments
of rock a little back from the wayside, the wild deer, shy but
not afraid, will come to see us. They stand at a little distance
striking their fore feet nervously on the ground, starting away
at any sudden movement but timidly approaching again. If
wooed with a lump of sugar or of salt they will approach and

308 Perfecting the Earth.

lick the hand that offers it, for these beautiful creatures have
never known anything but kindness at the hand of man, and
the degree to which they are able to perceive the spirit and
divine the intention of their human visitor is wonderful.

These wild deer, so swift, so graceful, with such noble
dignity of bearing, with their antlers spreading so finely, when
such a creature honors man with his confidence one is tempted
to take off his hat out of respect, but don't do it, or the deer
failing to understand the gesture will leave you very suddenly.

Returning to our cycles now, we resume our journey.
Pushing on through such scenery as we have already passed
until we pass the opening of the White River canyon, our
course has turned from south to westward.

Soon we come to a high promontory that rises on the left
or south side of the canyon. This is Observation Point, and
here is an elevator which leads to its summit. We can have no
use for our cycles above so we leave them here, taking with
us, however, the lunches which we have brought for our mid-
day meal. Entering the elevator car we push the button that
connects its motor with the electric current and rise to the
summit.

The lift from the bottom of the canyon to the top of this
promontory is 1,060 feet in vertical height. On this height a
pavilion has been built and a grove planted. There is also a
reservoir here which is filled from a high level source by
pumping, for the auxiliary irrigation needed by forest lands
at high levels in this vicinity.

This point is directly south of the peninsula of agricultural
land that constituted the first wheat fields back in the hurry
season of '14.

The whole Fort Goodwill agricultural district lies spread

Fort Goodwill Again. 309

about us like a map. Bearing a little east of north we look
up the course of the Green River canyon down which we have
just come. Toward the northwest we look directly up the
auxiliary canyon of the Uintah, and coming in at our right
from the east, the canyon of the White river lies darkly
bowered in forests like the others, while winding past us on
the west and stretching away toward the southwest lies the
downward course of the Green River canyon into which all the
others converge, growing wilder and deeper as it goes, as the
mountains rise higher on either hand.

Framed between these canyon borders set in forests, to the
north of us lie the agricultural lands of the Fort Goodwill point ;
their central aqueduct, the first constructed of its class, dividing
the point into its eastern and western halves, appears as a
straight line of granite grey, which if continued would pass us
on our left. The lines of power sheds extending east and west
at right angles with the aqueduct give a delicately striated
appearance to the fields ; the portion beyond, where the power
sheds lie north and south, taking their origin from the canal
instead of from the aqueduct, is quite distinct to the eye but
though from three to six miles in width it appears to be but
a narrow belt.

Beyond this a dark bluish strip marks the Fort Goodwill
orchards with the terrace of the border park behind it. And
there beyond, backed by the towering peaks of the Uintah
mountains, is the city; taking one of the field glasses, which
are kept here for the convenience of visitors, we can distinctly
see many of the large public buildings, while here and there
the smaller dwellings gleam among the trees that surround
them.

The industrial district at the left of the orchard may be

310 Perfecting the Earth.

distinctly seen. The mountains behind all this would not seem
to an eastern eye more than ten miles away at the farthest, and
yet the city center yonder is twenty-four miles north and
about five miles east of this point, and when we have reached
it we are less than half way from here to the peaks beyond.

There on our right, eastward of the Green River canyon,
the White River division of the agricultural district lies spread ;
this is four times as large as the Fort Goodwill point and cul-
tivated under power in the same manner. In this direction
the western Rocky mountains in Colorado form a background
to the view.

Out on our left, beyond the Green River and the Uintah
canyons, lies the western division of the agricultural lands with
the Wahsatch, and the Western Uintah mountains behind
them.

East, west, and north, all this great expanse is green with
growing crops. The southern quarter, from which this pro-
montory is a projecting point, is a rocky mountainous district
unfit for agriculture and devoted to timber.

In the canyon's gorge, as it winds about the foot of this
promontory, the white trunks of the sycamores twinkle among
the green leaves ; seen from this height the canyon walls
dwindle into insignificance. There is a belt of forest every-
where along their borders which spreads to fill all the triangles
formed by the obliquity of the canyons to the direction of the
power sheds, and some of these triangles contain from 80 to
100 acres, so that these forests along the canyon borders are
quite extensive. These triangles, with abundant water from
the irrigating mains, were the first land available for forest
planting, hence, though even here the trees are yet young, they
are nevertheless better grown than on any other portion of the

Fort Goodwill Again.

woodland, and for several years there has been an ificrt2£lB§
supply of poles and small timber removed to thin the growth
in order that the remaining trees might thrive the better. The
borders of these woods next the fields present a bank of foliage
from top to bottom, relieved here and there by deep, dark
recesses, and at other points by the brighter green tipped with
sunshine where a prominent branch or tree-top thrusts itself
beyond the general contour into the outer light.

As we look down on these forests from this height no
individual trees are seen, only billows of green, varying in tint
according to the kind of trees, all fading into azure grey as
they recede into the distance.

Yonder where the woods stand out so darkly distinct from
all the rest are large groves of pine, cultivated for the timber
which they will yield ; this is the only kind of timber cultivated
as a distinct crop and permitted to occupy the ground unmixed
with other trees.

Over there on the point opposite, mingled with other
trees the better to fill the ground, the whitewood or tulip trees
are thickly sprinkled. They are easily distinguishable from
this height by the deep, glossy green of their leaves, differing
in tint from those of any other tree.

There the sugar maple abounds and yonder the white oak,
each imparting its characteristic tint to the forest, but each
mingled with beech and trees of many other kinds. Belts and
scattering trees of hemlock and spruce are distributed among
these deciduous forests, both to improve the shelter which the
woods afford in winter and to enliven the view when the leaves
have fallen from the other trees.

The conifers native to this region, the nut pine and the
mountain spruce, are also cultivated, but they are mostly

312 Perfecting the Earth.

tor the higher and dryer slopes above the level of
irrigation.

Here, too, in suitable places, the giant sequoia of the
Sierra Nevada has been planted, and though small yet, on
account of their youth, the young trees are thriving ; it is prob-
able that some of them may be growing yet in the remote
future when the period of history from which we are now
passing will seem as strange and unnatural as that of the cave
men seems to us.

But the charm of this landscape that is spread before us
varies with the season. When in the autumn the leaves ripen
and these forests glow in buff and scarlet and crimson, all set
off against the dark background of the evergreens, it is a glory
all unknown to this region until of late.

But we have eaten our lunch, and for nearly two hours
surveyed the landscape from this pavilion. We will again take
the car on the incline and descend.

'Mounting our cycles, again we are off, taking our way
down the canyon yet as if continuing our journey away from
Fort Goodwill, but within two or three miles we come to an
auxiliary canyon opening into this from the right, and a branch
road coming down to join that on which we are traveling. We
take the branch, and directly are spinning on our way up the
Uintah. The scenery takes on the changes to be expected on
an auxiliary which is the course of a smaller stream, though
since the waters of both have been diverted into the irrigating
canal the size of the stream counts for little in either case.

The bed of the Uintah in the lower eighteen miles of its
course makes as great a descent as the Green river makes from
the great dam to its confluence with the Uintah, a distance of
about seventy miles.

Fort Goodwill Again. 313

Hence we find 'the canyon obstructed by cascade after
cascade, and to pass these obstructions our road often winds
along the face of the bluff and out into the woods on the slopes
above, for, though the channel here is more rugged and steep,
the walls of the canyon are more broken and not so high. The
road is good, however, all its grades are easy to our motors,
and we wind about from ravine to valley and from valley
to hillside, all thickly wooded. In these woods on either side
of the road a crisp carpet of last year's leaves covers the
ground, with those of the preceding year under them, and of
the year before yet beneath, and so on, until the decaying
leaves melt at the bottom into the black mould of the forest.
Vegetation here takes on a character familiar to our boyhood ;
here are our forgotten friends that in the east seemed to have
been exterminated with the forest; our foresters have taken
pains to introduce them, and, finding conditions favorable,
they have flourished.

Yonder the mandrakes are marshalling their umbrella
brigades on the slope, and there is the rue anemone with its
delicate foliage overstrewn with dainty cups of white, and the
cimcifuga with its slender racemes of delicate fringy white
blossoms, and the blood root with its great lone stars of waxy
white with radiant golden centers, each star on a juicy scape
lifted above the broad, smooth leaves with their regular deep
carved outline, and occasionally we see a belated cluster of the
wild phlox, which a little earlier made the half shaded openings
along the canyon's margin gay with their lilac blossoms.

If we had been here when the leaves were just bursting
their buds on the trees we should have seen sprinkled over
these banks the hepatica blossoms with their pale faces just
blushing with pink, or some of them blue and others white;

314 Perfecting the Earth.

and the adderstongue, each thick, juicy, mottled leaf folded
about the scape of a single, small, yellow lily, so delicately
fragrant, from which six great brown anthers dangle, each
suspended by an almost invisible thread ; and the spring beau-
ties with their clustered bells of pink satin streaked with crim-
son, but the season for these has gone by.

The pink blossoms of the wood geranium are here now,
and there is the cypripedium, the ladyslipper of our boyhood
days, with its yellow sacculated flowers and the odor so charac-
teristic of the orchid family.

And there is a dainty darling of the woodland, the Dutch-
man's breeches, dicentra cucularia ; it would be a dull soul that
could find no pleasure in the sight of these nodding racemes
strung with dainty garments of waxy white, each tied at the
waist with a golden ribbon ; their foliage, fine cut but smooth,
with the dusty bloom of a ripe grape on its surface, clustering
close on the carpet of dry leaves, and these racemes of fairy
garments drooping over the cluster, they can never look so
well with any other setting.

There in that rocky glade at the edge of the channel just
above that cascade a cluster of sweet elder bushes are spread-
ing themselves among the jagged rocks, and just now their
broad, flat cymes of blossom are covering the green of the
leaves with white, and their fresh odor is wafted to us as we
ride by. And there in the grassy swale above is a cluster of
wild tiger lilies more delicate and prettier far than the garden
variety. And dressed in flaming scarlet yonder is the cardinal
lobelia, and its cousin, the great blue lobelia, too, is there
close by. And here on the ed.ge of the glade is a bank of blue
violets, and there the wind flowers are shaking their white
chalices.

Fort Goodzvill Again. 315

Now we pass a rocky angle by the canyon's margin, over
which the wild grape vine has spread itself and climbed into
the trees above ; it is in blossom now, and the air is filled with
the odor of its flowers like that of mignonette. But here our
road leads into the thick woods again, and we speed our motors
a little as we spin along the meandering way.

Through such varied scenery we run about fifteen miles,
then we come to a fork in the road. The way on the left con-
tinues through forest and glade up the course of the Uintah
river, but we turn to the right.

Within a minute after passing the fork of the road we come
again to the wire fence separating the agricultural land from
the forest, and, as before, a gate opens automatically to admit
us and closes again when we have passed through, one of our
vehicles having of course been guided over a little platform in
the pavement which pushes a button and sets in motion an
electric apparatus that opens and shuts the gate.

Now the way lies directly northward five miles straight
before us. On our right is one of the fields of clover ; it is now
in blossom, and its fragrance is heavy on the air. Close by us
on the left is the power shed with its long line of shafting and
pulleys and its irrigating main set in the stonework beneath,
and in the pavement under our feet is the steel track of the
agricultural service railway.

Following this about three miles we come to where they
are cutting clover for the cows ; it may be worth while to stop
a minute and watch the process. Yonder in the middle of the
field is the mowing machine approaching us with a car
mounted on broad rollers attached behind it.

The cable which moves them is running over the pulley
there and through a guide fixed just outside the railway track,

316 Perfecting the Earth.

which holds it on the edge of the stubble that was cleared by
the previous trip of the machine across the field. The machine
is cutting a strip eight feet wide as it goes, and the clover as it
is cut falls on a moving apron which carries it into the car
behind. There the attendant, the only man that travels across
the field with the mower, using the apparatus provided for that
purpose, distributes the clover on the load. In cutting across
the field and back an acre of ground is cleared and the green
clover gathered is a heavy carload.

But here it comes. Now the car and its load are lifted on
a kind of jack worked by the electric current, and turned over
the steel track. The broad rollers are then removed, the car
wheels are adjusted, a trolley is set in the guard post at the
rear of the load, and away goes the car with its load to the cow
barns.

The rollers are now placed on the axles of the empty car
that has just arrived, it is attached to the mower and the opera-
tion is repeated.

This is going on during the entire growing season in many
fields, some of clover and some of other forage plants, for it is
found that the cows thrive best on a mixed diet and their tastes
are gratified.

But now we follow the loaded car out of the field. Five
miles from the gate by which we entered from the forest we
come to a small tract of woodland again, occupying the angle
formed by the obliquity of the canal to the borders of the fields.
On the farther side of this lies the main canal with its electric
railway tracks skirting its banks; the car loaded with clover
here turns to the left, but we cross the canal and turning to the
right soon reach the southwest avenue of Fort Goodwill.

Our road now lies straight before us toward the northeast.

Fort GoodwiU Again.

317

On our left is the industrial district with its many and varied
factories and its many electric railway tracks which serve them.
For a mile we are passing the section devoted to the iron indus-
tries, which reaches back toward the northwest three miles.
But this is the hour when a new relief takes charge in the
works, and the men relieved now come pouring out, a great
throng, from all these cross streets into the avenue ; some are
riding on single motors and bicycles, some on small motor
carriages, but the majority in automobile omnibuses. We ride
along with the throng. Now we are passing the machine
works, then the fiber board works, the cotton and the woolen
mills. These streets opening into the avenue from the left
reach three miles back lined with great factories and industrial
equipments of every kind.

Now we come to the coal yards and the gas works, but
here an innovation has been introduced since the works were
founded.

All the young forests need thinning as the trees grow.
The wood gathered thus far has been too small to be valuable
for lumber, but it is all available for fuel. It has been found
that this wood will produce gas even superior as fuel to that
obtained from coal. There is no waste in it, even the ashes
remaining after its final combustion being of greait value in the
fertilizing department and in the arts for the chemicals they
contain. Hence, with the increasing supply of wood the
amount of coal mined is growing less year by year, and the
coal mining forces are being drawn off into woodcraft, which
is a more wholesome as well as a more esthetic occupation.

In these works everything is conformed to the conditions
of the greatest efficiency of machinery and force, but this being
secured, pains are taken to have the surroundings neat and
tasteful.

318 Perfecting the Earth.

On the opposite side of this avenue from the industrial
district, that is on our right, lies the border of the great orchard
that we passed through some twelve miles further west. We
are passing by it here for three miles before we reach the high
level canal that separates the orchard from the border park and
the hillside rising to the city plateau.

In the park above this hill the throng of workmen in their
automobiles and on their bicycles begins to scatter, turning
through the parkways this way and that to enter the city at
points most convenient to their homes. Our way, however,
lies straight before us to our hotel on the border of the city
hall park.

As we enter the city we notice that there is a display of
many flags at half mast and at intervals the city chimes sound
a dirge.

Enquiring what this means, we are told that the old
General, Theodore Goodwill, last night passed into the higher
life, his body being found cold in his bed at 9 o'clock this
morning ; his obsequies are to be held three days hence in New
Utopia where he lived. Thousands from every city in the land
will attend the ceremonies on that occasion, and we will do so
with them.

The Obsequies of General Goodwill. 319

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Again by the hundreds of thousands the people are pour-
ing- into the great auditorium in the mountains above New
Utopia.

Since the occasion of the great celebration, when General
Goodwill delivered his valedictory address and the army was
disbanded, great improvements have been made in this audi-
torium. Over all the floor of the valley a smooth level pave-
ment has been laid; the speaker's platform is now of solid
stone; in the clefts and irregularities of the rock walls of the
valley receptacles have been built and filled with earth in which
ornamental trees, shrubbery and flowers are cultivated, and in
the solid rock constituting those walls chambers have been
excavated and adorned with architectural portals surmounted
with sculptured figures. In these chambers camp chairs are
stored in numbers sufficient to cover all the floor of the valley
with seats. There also the canvas is kept with which, on occa-
sions when the valley is used as an auditorium, the whole is
enclosed, together with the mechanism for putting and holding
it in place, the auditorium telephones, and other furnishings.

All these are now in their places on the floor ; the great
tent covers the valley, flags float from the central masts half
lifted. Palm trees of stately dimensions hav6 been conveyed
here and ranged in three lines, one extending in the same line
with the supporting masts of the tent and one on each side
near the border, and the whole valley has been embowered in
greenery and flowers in such a manner as to soften but not to
obstruct the view. A glory of shining silk drapery radiating

320 Perfecting the Earth.

from the sound reflector and covering- the rock walls above
and on each side of the platform terminates the vista.

Music soft and melodious fills the air.

For this occasion pneumatic tubes have been laid from the
crematorium in the pine grove to the altar that has been built
yonder on the platform, and thence to that which conveys the
ashes of the dead to their final destination.

This vast multitude are gathering now to pay their tribute
of respect to the memory of General Goodwill ; his friend, and,
during the last years of the army, his chief of staff, is to speak
to the people in honor of the departed.

With appropriate music the ritual commonly used on
such occasions is followed, then the speaker steps forward and
addresses the people thus :

"In the presence of the hundreds of thousands assembled
here to honor the friend, comrade, and leader, who has so
long walked with us, what shall I say? His was the rare
good fortune to open the door admitting mankind to the
wealth, the joys and the blessings with which the universe
is bountifully rich, and enabling each and all to partici-
pate in the culture and the knowledge that go to make life
worthy, yet he was in no sense a great man. Thousands have
lived before him who were capable of doing for the world all
that he has done, but who were forbidden by the unripeness of
the time or the circumstances into which they were born from
doing the deeds and accomplishing the reforms for which their
souls longed, even though the way was as clear to them as it
was to our friend just gone from our sight. Often it was that
'Chill penury repressed their noble rage, and froze the genial
current of their soul/ and the world, in so far as it has noted
them and their aspirations at all, the blind old world, has
pronounced their lives failures and their ideas impracticable;

The Obsequies of General Goodwill. 321

it has imagined that their lives were ended and that their pur-
poses had perished with them.

"Foolish old world, and blind! Little has it thought that
since the days of Siddartha, Socrates and Jesus, in that other
world pervading this of matter, these lesser lights that were
accounted but as darkness, together with the greater, have
continued the struggle, inspiring the minds of such among
men as were fitted to receive their inspiration, preparing the
world both on our side of the curtain and on theirs to receive
the good things which from the beginning the architect of the
universe had prepared for his children.

"Heaven could not be heaven until the earth could be
heavenly also, for the universe is a unit. So long as earth pours
forth brutal souls into the other life, even heaven is rendered
powerless in proportion to their number and their wickedness,
and hell pervades this world and the other also. But in this
struggle of the ages no soul ever ceases to exist nor does the
desire of any soul cease to exert its force.

"It could not be otherwise than that ultimately right must
subdue wrong and wisdom overpower foolishness, and in our
time the great souls and the enlightened of all the ages that
have preceded us have been able to sway the course of events
as never in any preceding age was possible.

"This, then, was the rare good fortune of our friend who
has gone before us ; in the fullness of time when the world was
ready to be led he was in the position to lead, knew the
way, and was eager to walk in it. His opportunities corre-
sponded with his abilities and with his desires. If Theodore
Goodwill's life had been cast in other lines and he had lived a
few years earlier, with all his ability, his knowledge, and his
aspirations, he might have died unknown and a pauper.

322 Perfecting the Earth.

"And yet, if it had been so, though the world would have
counted such a life a failure, without influence, a waste and a
loss, the world would have been in error; all such lives that
have gone before us are contributing factors to the triumph of
their purposes which we now enjoy, and they are enjoying it
with us.

"Not yet is it generally realized how short is the road that
the human mind has traveled from infantile limitations, nor
how recently it started on that journey. In the infancy of the
human mind the earth was to men the largest body in the uni-
verse, inconceivably great, practically infinite, though the con-
cept of infinity had never dawned on their imagination. The
sun, moon and stars were regarded as small and near, space at
large had for them no existence and their imagination did not
reach out toward its void to wonder about it ; men thought and
imagined only within narrow limits, a little beyond their bodily
reach, and in terms grossly tangible to the bodily senses only.

"These were the limitations of infancy; as mankind have
conquered fundamental truth and assimilated it and made it
their own they have departed from these limitations, but such
truth, while it is reached by a process of investigation, research
or reasoning, is not wholly conquered and assimilated. Truth
when so conquered is like the earth under our feet, we are not
thinking of it, nor working to get a footing on it, but we stand
on it and look from it as we direct our attention to other things.
It constitutes our point of view, and the difference which the
point oi view makes in the outlook is vast; under infantile
limitations mankind were looking from the valley and nothing
could be seen but the near at hand. But having conquered
fundamental truth we stand on a peak and a great landscape
lies spread before us.

The Obsequies of General Goodzvill. 323

"It is not until such fundamental truths become a part of
the basal plane upon which the mind stands, held uncon-
sciously, without question, to be thought from, not to be
thought to, that such truths have become steps in the way of
departure from infantile limitations.

"The first such step which the common mind of man has
taken has grown out of the establishment of the truth of the
Copernican theory of astronomy, but after the truth of that
system was established the world was very slow to take
the step. Copernicus lived in the sixteenth century, but not
until the nineteenth was the step taken leading out of infantile
limitations of the mind, which grew out of the truths which he
had established. That step, growing out of the realization of
the immense distances of the stars, and the fact that such dis-
tances might be multiplied indefinitely, was the establishment
as a fundamental truth to think from, of the concept of the
infinity of space.

"The second such great step in the enlargement of the
human mind grew out of the science of geology, and as the
first step had consisted in the establishment among the funda-
mental data of the mind, of the concept of infinity in space, so
this consisted in the like establishment among these data of the
concept of the infinity of time. But the first step had prepared
mankind for the second, and it was comparatively but a short
time after the truths of geology became known before the step
was taken. These two and no others, space and time, are yet
the infinities realized by the human mind.

"The third step of enlargement comparable in importance
with the other two was the establishment in the human mind,
as a part of the basal plane to think from, of the evolutionary
philosophy. This grew out of the ripeness of many sciences
and the cross lights thrown upon nature by each; with its

324 Perfecting the Earth.

establishment the names of Darwin, Wallace, and Herbert
Spencer are associated in honor.

"It was the evolutionary philosophy that first made the
universe intelligible, and its establishment as a step in the
enlargement of the human mind would have been impossible
until after the first two steps had been taken. This step may
be regarded as accomplished by about the end of the third
quarter of the nineteenth century.

"This step brings us to our own time and place in the pro-
gressive conquest of truth and the emancipation of the human
mind from infantile limitations. A fourth step is preparing
which shall bring with it the fruition of all the others. That
step is to be, like the others, the acceptance as an unconscious
datum of truth, from which to think, of the reality of the spir-
itual order in nature as an entity animating the material world,
imparting consciousness to it, but separable and distinct from it.

"When that step has been fully taken, mankind in the
material plane of being will grow conscious of the coming and
going in larger freedom of those who have lived before them ;
they will recognize their presence as mentors and teachers and
guides, in the higher and causal plane, of those not yet pro-
moted to that plane, suggesting and inspiring our best thought
in our hours of thoughtfulness, and playfully leading us
through the realms of dreamland during our sleep.

"Our friend, leader and counsellor, General Goodwill, dur-
ing the last eighteen years of his life, has rested from his labors,
he will be with us yet, and his field of activity is enlarged, not
curtailed.

"More and more, as the consequences ripen about us of
the better social order into which General Goodwill was so
largely instrumental in leading us, we shall become aware of

The Obsequies of General Goodwill. 325

his presence, together with that of many others who like him
have been transposed to the higher and more perfect plane of
being, the spiritual order, until finally those who have gone
before shall yet dwell with us, and we shall know them as we
are known by them, and death will be but as the putting off of
an outworn garment.

"We do not mourn our friend as formerly the dead were
mourned ; we have not lost him. He has been promoted to a
larger freedom, and in his larger freedom we have learned to
recognize his presence in a larger activity.

"But the ashes of our friend's body have come, and now
we consign them, ashes to ashes.

"It is superfluous to say that these ashes are not our
friend. Long ago when a little group of friends were gathered
round Socrates as he was about to drink the poison, one of
them, Crito, asked him in what way he would have them bury
him. 'In any way that you like,' answered Socrates, 'only you
must get hold of me and take care that I do not walk away
from you.' So we might now do as we pleased with our friend
if we could get hold of him, but between our friend and these
ashes there is nothing in common.

"Ashes ! To ashes let them be gathered. Dust ! To the
dust heap let it be conveyed. Neither our friend nor any one
has any further use for these until in the laboratory of nature
they are dissolved and reassimilated to build up living forms
anew.

"Friends ! Eternity is here. We are living in the midst of
it ; let us not forget this truth. And while duly sensible of the
responsibilities of our citizenship let us rejoice that we are
citizens of the universe forever. And let it be our joy while
here, to go on with the work of perfecting the earth, in the

326 Perfecting the Earth.

assurance that for whatever we can better it we shall find that
heaven also will be the better."

Then swelling music filled the great auditorium and
echoed among the rocky peaks above and rolled down the
mountain side, and the fair city at its foot caught up the strain
from every organ tower and prolonged it as the assembled
multitudes departed.

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