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Had Washington looked down the century and caught the gleam of the gigantic shaft that attests his glory, and the golden dome of the Congressional Library, the most superb temple ever reared to literature, or in an illumined moment beheld the Goddess of Liberty standing between Heaven and earth and symbolizing freedom for seventy-five millions of people, he could not have written with loftier faith in the destiny of the Republic.
Washington is no longer the city of magnificent intentions; it is Washington the Magnificent.
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