Is there in all history a human migratory movement like this? Men have always been, like poor Joe, moving on, but generally for conquest or subjugation of other races. No such fusion of bloods has ever before taken place—the nearest approach to it being the amalgamation of races through which the modern Englishman came. But that commingling was always the result of conquest and subjugation, and the antagonistic nature of the union delayed the peaceful fusion and left its impress of belligerency on the resultant race characteristic. In this last Anabasis of Liberty, however, everybody is welcome, all elements are assimilated, everything converted to the uses of empire and the work of peopling a continent with an entirely new race of men—new in blood, thought and aim. Whether as a result of the varied forces of heredity or the unprecedented influences of environment, it is evident that here a new people is being created for a new purpose. The future Greene who shall essay the writing of “The Making of America,” will find in the mutual reaction of race characteristics on each other, in the influence of material surroundings and in the stimulus of free institutions, the profound study of the origin and evolution of the American citizen. ALONE WITH MY CONSCIENCE. [The following poem was read by Dr. Vincent on the morning of August 25, 1884, at the closing exercises of the Chautauqua Assembly. This poem Dr. Vincent has read at the close of several Assemblies, and always with marked effect.] I sat alone with my conscience, In a place where time had ceased, And we talked of my former living In the land where the years increased; And felt I should have to answer The question it put to me, And to face the answer and question, Throughout an eternity. The ghost of forgotten actions Came floating before my sight, And things that I thought were dead things Were alive with a terrible might; And the vision of all my past life Was an awful thing to face, Alone with my conscience sitting In that solemnly silent place. And I thought of a far-away warning Of a sorrow that was to be mine, In a land that there was the future, But now is the present time; And I thought of my former thinking, Of the judgment day to be; But sitting alone with my conscience Seemed judgment enough for me. And I wondered if there was a future To this land, beyond the grave; But no one gave me an answer, And no one came to save. Then I felt that the future was present, And the present would never go by, For it was the thought of my past life Grown into eternity. Then I woke from my timely dreaming And the vision passed away. And I pray that I may not forget it In this land before the grave; That I may not cry in the future, And no one come to save.