The Bolivar bulletin. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1946, 1901-01-25

! released and the house Will De warmed
| in few moments. Touch another but
ton and we may take an electric bath
on an electric couch. Yet another but
/ ton and we may have our breakfast
brought up on small silver waiter. A
| few mouthfuls will suffice. Then we
can mount our aerocycle, spread our
wings and take a pleasant morning
| flight with the lark. All traffic will be
| carried on through the air, and mon
ster airships will make daily trips be-
tween all the nations.
The hidden realms will all be made
clear and the word occult will become
obsolete. All the mysteries of hypno-
tism will be explained, and wonderful
indeed will be the developments along
| this line. The strange feats of the
| fakirs of India will no longer astonish,
and the marvels of suspended ANNA
ton will be thoroughly understood and
practiced all over the world. Spiritual
| ism in this century will either be estab-
| lished beyond all doubt or be over
thrown. If esta blished we will be able
| to communicate with the inha bitants
of the spirit world and solve all the
problems of future existence; if over
| thrown we will remember it as merely
a fascinating superstition of darkened
age. Mind reading also will be COM
monty practiced, SO that we may read
the thoughts of each other so easily
that deceit and treachery will be inn
possible and mankind will be uni.
versally pure, honest and upright.
There will be one religion and all
mankind will bow to one God. Dogmas
and creedS, doubts and fears will be
forgotten and the worship rendered
will be the thanks of loving heart in
tune with the Infinite. The temple
will be the open sky, and the incense
rising from sacrificial affairs will be the
perfume of flowers carried on the
breath of the winds. The anthem of
praise will be our heart songs mingled
with the notes of the birds and all the
! other voices of nature.
All the nations of earth will be under
one government, with one supreme
head, and he will be the one who is
most fit to rule. Political corruption
will be unknown, and the laws will be
framed for the entire world in one high
court, where the most brilliant minds
will give justice to all men and peoples.
Let me draw for you just one more
picture of this Golden Age of Promise,
whose sun will rise in the twentieth
century. Mankind still gropes in blind
credulity, bowling the bleeding back to
the lash of Falsehoods, before a pol
luted shrine, where error sits enthrohed
in the gloom of Ignorances black
night. The twinkling stars, faint her
aids of an intellectual dawn, look
quietly down upon the scene. Upon
the distant hilltop 1 see Humanity's
minority toiling. suffering to free the
beautiful goddess of Truth, who has
been for cons upon the scaffold, bound
by Superstition's brazen chains. Upon
her brow rests the crown of eternal
love, and the smile of patience lights
up her sweet face. Her eyes are turned
toward the orient, watching for the
first gray streaks of the approaching
dawn, when she shall be free. Freel
Free! How the words thrill the hearts
of those who have so long labored for
the emancipation of the human race
from the thralldom of ignorance. Yes,
Truth will be free. The scaffold will
become throne, and this fair goddess
of light, forever free through the power
of Love, will be mankind's worshipped
queen. Her manacles will become
shining bracelets of gold, and her
brazen chains, struck free from pulsing
wrists by Loves magical touch, will
become a beautiful necklace of pearls.
The night is passing. Yet a few
more moments and we shall witness
the dawning of that glad day, whose
golden sun of knowledge will ever gid
the eastern sky and whose long gray
shadows will eternally kiss the western
hills. And it will be reign of peace.
In the forest the black cannon will rust
away. It's laundering voice will die
away in silence. and it's iron mouth be
buried in the dust. The myrtle, cypress
and ivy will weave shroud of green,
and spread it over the crumbling en-
blem of death. Perched upon the
broken wheel little bird twitters it's
song Of peace all day long.
Back into the darkness of oblivion
we will chase every phantom of error,
and in the cemetery of the past will
sleep their dead memories. Over their
silent graves we will erect no monu-
ments, and strew no flowers. We pray
there may be no resurrection for their
fieshless bones and dusty mummies.
We will live in a brighter age-the
Golden Age of the Twentieth Century,
and we will be living the dreams of our
vanished past.
There.