THE MODEL PRODUCTIVE STATE. 27 



having sheltered, clothed, and fed a people with a liberality 

 witnessed in no period of the world before, — it has filled the 

 State with the higher proofs of its affluence, has erected the 

 lofty temple, established houses of learning, commemorated the 

 passing generation in historic art, embellished the town and 

 country, and with the ceaseless tide of a moral irrigation has 

 enriched, ennobled, exalted the Commonwealth. 



This is our system. This is our epic, — so much better than 

 that of the days of dream and song. Many of you remember 

 to have read of the fabled river Pactolus, in which Midas 

 bathed, — and its waters were ever after rich with gold. Modern 

 labor, — organized, classified, educated — has all tliat Midas 

 touch, and rolls golden sands to the sea. Not a trout brook in 

 Massachusetts, large enough half the year to evoke the music 

 of a lathe or a spindle, that has not more than the virtues of 

 that Phrygian stream. Cast your eyes, men of Worcester, over 

 these waters that flow through your teeming intervale, — behold 

 them merrily but steadily at their work, — when exhausted, 

 reinforced by the engines, little and mighty, — all directed and 

 controlled by the heads and hands of intelligent, independent, 

 free men, — follow the river to its mouth and bring back the 

 census of its labor from its confluence with the Narragansett ; 

 reflect that this is but a representative of every stream in ]^w 

 England over whose haunts the spirit of American enterprise 

 has asserted its authority, and tell me if the ancient fable has 

 not become modern fact, and Pactolus been transferred to our 

 own slopes and valleys. Nor quite that literally, but a little 

 better than that, Mr. President. The golden river of New 

 England, wherever you find it, differs considerably from that 

 which is traced on the map of mythology. I claim for it in full 

 the eulogium which the smooth numbers of Denham bestowed 

 upon the Thames : — 



" Though with those streams it no resemblance hold, 

 Whose foam is amber, and their gravel gold, 

 Its genuine and less guilty wealth t' explore, 

 Search not its bottom, but survey its shore." 



Having thus considered, imperfectly for tiic theme, but 

 sufficiently for your patience, how impressive is the universality 

 of our industry, how essential to the common welfare is its 



