LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 Chap. 
 
 Shelf 
 
 PRESENTED BY \ C_* 
 
 . UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 

 .^ 
 
 ' 
 
 Wts^utt/,, /X^a^ 
 
Cbe 189$ Prize Book 
 
 •/ 
 
 HAMILTON COLLEGE, CLINTON, N. Y. 
 
 COLLECTED BY 
 
 MELVIN GILBERT J30DGE 
 
 Librarian 
 
 CLINTON, N. Y. 
 
 Zhe IKtrfelanfc press 
 
 1899 
 
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 r> 
 
 
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 29805 
 
The purpose of this volume is to put into 
 permanent and convenient form the Hamilton 
 College Prize Essays and Orations of the year 
 '97-8. The book is a natural continuation of 
 the Clark Prize Book, the Head Prize Book, and 
 the Kirkland Prize Book. 
 
 M. G. D. 
 
29805 
 
Contents 
 
 Clark Prize Orations 
 The Power of the Moslem . . 3 
 
 Allan Pepper ell Ames, '98. 
 James Russell Lowell's Americanism . 9 
 
 "Bertrand Whit comb "Babcoch, '98. 
 The Power of the Moslem . . is 
 
 John Robert "Babcock, '98. 
 Gustavus Adolphus and Wallenstein in the 
 Thirty Years' War ... 22 
 
 Henry Kendall Booth, '98. 
 Schopenhauer the Pessimist . . 29 
 
 Henry White, '98. 
 Dante as the Interpreter of the Middle Ages }6 
 
 Edward Reynolds Wright, '98. 
 
 Pruyn Medal Oration 
 Moral Laziness the Foe to Municipal Reform 43 
 John Robert Babcock, '98. 
 
 Head Prize Oration 
 The Indebtedness of New York State to 
 
 Alexander Hamilton . . 48 
 
 Allan Pepper ell zAmes, '98. 
 
 Kirkland Prize Oration 
 
 The Mosaic Law , . . 53 
 
 Charles Gideon Empie, '98, 
 
vi Contents 
 
 Soper Prize Thesis 
 The Tariff Question in America down to 
 1846 . . . . 59 
 
 Charles Gideon Empie, ' g8. 
 
 Darling Prize Thesis 
 The History of Paper Currency during the 
 Colonial Period _. . 93 
 
 %alph Smith Minor, 'g8. 
 
 Junior Prize Essays 
 Conscience in the Greek Tragedy . 13s 
 
 Curtis OAiller, Jr., 'gg. 
 The Character of Henry V as shown in 
 Shakespeare's King Henry IV and 
 King Henry V . . .145 
 
 Charles Latimer Mosher, 'gg. 
 
 Sophomore Prize Essays 
 
 The Ideals of Whitman and of Whittier 1 so 
 
 William Grant IDecker, '00. 
 Joan of Arc in History and in Literature 16s 
 
 Herscbel IDorsey Spencer, '00. 
 
 Freshman Prize Essays 
 Michael Faraday . . . 172 
 
 Howard Irving 'Davenport, } oi . 
 Arctic Exploration . . . 181 
 
 Albert Houghton Pratt, '01. 
 
Clark H>rt3e ©rations 
 
 THE POWER OF THE MOSLEM 
 BY ALLAN PEPPERELL AMES, '98 
 
 In men and in habits of thought, the East 
 and the West are as different as two worlds. 
 The difference is that of the old and the new, 
 of the past and the future, of idealism and 
 materialism, of servitude and freedom. The 
 Oriental lives with his thoughts turned back- 
 ward upon the past or inward upon his soul. 
 He is the slave of custom and superstition and 
 of his own passions. It is then but natural that 
 the leading force in the East always has been 
 religious, and that the birthplaces of the two 
 great world-beliefs are there — Christianity in 
 Judea, Mahometanism in Arabia. 
 
 Like the Jews the Arabs were zealous wor- 
 shipers. They were the ideal people for the 
 propagation of a new faith. Intense, imagina- 
 tive, courageous, enduring, they were at once 
 poets and warriors. For ages they had lived 
 unnoticed by the world, a mighty force dor- 
 mant. Then arose a man who read their com- 
 plex natures like an open book. He was Ma- 
 homet, the Prophet. He kindled the spark 
 that loosed the pent-up fire of fanaticism. 
 Across Arabia it swept, welding Jew and Chris- 
 
4 Glarfe Pri3e ©rations 
 
 tian and pagan into a thunderbolt of passion, 
 faith, and frenzy. Never before or since has 
 there been such a weapon. It was launched 
 eastward, and in less than a century the call of 
 the muezzin sounded from the minarets of Del- 
 hi. It was launched westward, and the flames 
 of conquest rolled along the shore of the Med- 
 iterranean and leaped the strait of Gibraltar, to 
 be subdued at last only by the iron hand of 
 Charles Martel. It was launched northward, 
 and it hurled before it the hosts of Christen- 
 dom until the cry, "Allah Akbar ! " rang from 
 the walls of Constantinople, and the crescent 
 drove the cross from the tower of St. Sophia. 
 It was launched southward, across the sands of 
 Sahara, and today into the darkest corners of 
 Africa, where Christianity can gain no foothold, 
 the faith of Islam has penetrated, proclaiming 
 that there is no god but God and Mahomet is 
 his prophet. 
 
 Against this overwhelming power for centur- 
 ies Western civilization fought for its life. 
 When at last the tide rolled back, when Boab- 
 dil had sailed from the shores of Granada and 
 Sobieski for the last time had flung the Turk 
 from Vienna, Europe paused to take breath; 
 and men began to study the power of the Mos- 
 lem and to seek the cause of its rapid growth. " 
 
 The never-ending struggle of the human 
 mind is to comprehend its relation to the mind 
 divine. The finite strains to touch the infinite. 
 
ftbe power of tbe ZlRoslem 5 
 
 " O, tell us the secret; unveil the mystery of 
 soul," has been the cry of humanity since the 
 world began. To this prayer of man, thrilling 
 his very heart's core comes the answer of 
 Islam: "There is but one God, Allah. There 
 is but one who knows his will, Mahomet his 
 prophet. Accept the word of Allah which 
 Mahomet has revealed and submit to it your 
 will. Whatever befalls you, be it sorrow, or 
 sickness, or death, or worse than death, is the 
 will of God. Think not in your little mind to 
 judge the infinite wisdom. God's will is the 
 law of necessity; it is the river of time steady 
 and resistless as fate ; it is fate itself. Do not 
 weary yourself to death struggling against the 
 stream ; but throw away the oars, cast loose 
 the rudder, trust yourself to the current, and it 
 will carry you at last straight through the gates 
 of Paradise to the home of the true believers." 
 How simple it is ! The burden is always the 
 same : "Submit, submit, submit." To the na- 
 tions of the East, weary of strife and doubt, it 
 came like a cooling breeze after the scorching 
 heat of the simoon. It satisfied all their ques- 
 tions and filled every want of their deeply re- 
 ligious natures. The secret of the power of 
 the Moslem lies in the unreserved acceptance 
 of this appeal and the blind obedience to its 
 commands. 
 
 Why had Mahomet more followers than 
 Christ ? Because the creed he preached 
 
6 Clark ffi>ri3c ©rations 
 
 reaches every side of human nature. The 
 word of the Nazarene is heard only by man's 
 better self. Christianity sets up an ideal far 
 beyond our reach and says: "Though you 
 can never reach it this side of the grave, yet 
 strive to come as near as you can." Islam 
 takes man as it finds him and entwines itself 
 with every fibre of mind and body. To the 
 Moslem, the Koran is like the voice of his own 
 soul ; for it gives form to the vague impulses 
 which he feels but cannot understand. The 
 truth is there, but not the whole truth. Error is 
 there, but not all is error. As the artist mixes 
 his colors to produce the wonderful hues of a 
 sunset, so Mahomet blended truth and false- 
 hood and painted a picture before which 
 millions fall in adoration — a picture of victor- 
 ious battle and all-embracing empire in this 
 world, and a paradise of delights in the next ; 
 and underneath he wrote : All this and more 
 is the reward of those who submit. 
 
 Why has the Moslem been the greatest con- 
 queror of history ? Because his faith did not 
 make him fold his hands in apathy, but roused 
 his warlike instincts. Fatalism is not a bed of 
 down but a spur to desperate energy. It is 
 not : "What is the use ? Kismet !" but, " Kis- 
 met ! no matter." Victory and life lie in God's 
 hands. He will give and he will take away at 
 the appointed time. " Fight and kill in the 
 name of the Prophet and fear not," says the 
 
ftbe power of tbe rtlboslem 7 
 
 Koran, "for the sword is the key of Heaven." 
 There is no force like fatalism to drive men to 
 deeds of reckless daring. It strips from the 
 Mahometan soldier every trace of fear, every 
 thought of self. What are ambition and pa- 
 triotism beside the irresistible power which 
 swept the Turkish hordes up and over the walls 
 of Constantinople on that fatal day when the 
 last of the Caesars iell ; and which four cen- 
 turies later flung the Mahdi's dervish army 
 on the bayonets of British squares ! The 
 battle-cry of Islam has come thundering down 
 the ages : " For the faith, for the faith, vic- 
 tory to Mahomet." What wonder that for so 
 many years the victory was to Mahomet ; and 
 that that wild cry rose and swelled until it 
 rocked the foundations of Christendom ! What 
 wonder if today we thank God that the " trag- 
 edy of the East " is not the tragedy of the West ! 
 The "tragedy of the East !" — sad spectacle 
 of the decline of a once keen and noble race ! 
 In the place of Othman, the " Bone-breaker," 
 Abdul Hamid II lolls on his cushions and 
 writes an order for the butchery of defenseless 
 Armenians. Better the old scenes of battle 
 carnage than a sight like this. Yet the sleep 
 of the Eastern nations today shows the 
 strength of Islam no less than their awakening 
 thirteen centuries ago. Mahometanism has 
 met the advance of modern civilization and 
 driven it back. The light which streamed from 
 
8 Clark TprijC ©rations 
 
 Arabia shines no longer red and angry through 
 the dust of battle, but steady and brilliant as 
 the noonday sun; but its beams "blind to the 
 light of modern advancement " one hundred 
 and eighty million souls. "To them all prog- 
 ress is apostacy from the truth of God." The 
 law of Mahomet is the final law ; it brought 
 men one step forward, but forbade another 
 step. This is the problem which Islam pre- 
 sents to the world — a problem which looms, a 
 constant menace, on the horizon of European 
 politics. Europe has not yet forgotten that 
 first mad rush of hordes drunk with religious 
 frenzy. Has the sword of the Prophet grown 
 dull ? Ask the Russians who fought at Plevna. 
 Ask the veterans of the Soudan. Ask the men 
 of humiliated Greece. But Islam no longer is 
 spread by the sword. No longer can the power 
 of the Moslem be met in the field and held in 
 check by the mailed hand. It must be attacked 
 in its stronghold, the human heart. The word 
 of Mahomet must be supplanted by the word 
 of Christ. The whole-truths of the Bible must 
 drive out the half-truths of Koran. Then only 
 will the shackles of tradition and superstition 
 slip off; and the old, old East, like a little 
 child, will reach out its hands to the young 
 West for guidance ; and the Arab, and the 
 Turk, and the Moor will join the march of the 
 Christian nations toward the realization of the 
 great Ideal. 
 
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL'S AMERICANISM 
 
 BY BERTRAND WHITCOMB BABCOCK, '98 
 
 It was a memorable scene that August day 
 at Ashfield when George William Curtis paid 
 his tender tribute to the memory of a dead 
 poet. Those who thrilled under the spell of 
 that lofty eloquence have never forgotten his 
 defense of the Americanism of James Russell 
 Lowell. He doubtless needed no defense in 
 that notable gathering of scholars and states- 
 men. But there had come whispers from the 
 outside world —a world of political scheming, 
 of men who could not conceive of loyalty to 
 country in one who dared to be independent 
 of party — one who dared to speak of America 
 as he wished her to be, dared to rebuke with 
 keen and cutting words. Because Eng- 
 land recognized in him not only the poet 
 and seer, the man of letters, but the gentle- 
 man, one who found it, as he once said of Tho- 
 reau, " as easy to be natural in a salon as in a 
 swamp," with a culture as broad and deep as 
 the best ; because England honored him while 
 ambassador as America would have honored 
 Tennyson or R.obert Browning, had either been 
 sent to represent his country at Washington, 
 the ward politician felt that this was dangerous 
 and questioned his loyalty. 
 
io Clark 8>ct3e ©cations 
 
 It was fitting that one of those who had 
 known him best and loved him truest should 
 defend him against the charge that he was not 
 a good American. It is equally fitting that we, 
 who today have caught the echo of that far cry, 
 should accept it as a challenge to seek in the 
 utterances of the poet and scholar and politi- 
 cian his right to the eulogy then spoken of him, 
 and to atone in some slight degree for the neg- 
 lect of the grave at Mount Auburn. 
 
 If it is true, as Milton said, that books are 
 not dead things ; if " they do preserve as in a 
 vial the purest efficacy and extraction of that 
 living intellect that bred them," the question 
 of the patriotism of Lowell can be answered 
 over and over affirmatively. His life is before 
 us in his books ; we can reconstruct the char- 
 acter, can trace the influence that moulded him 
 " from the time he first drew in New England 
 air " to the youth writing of fatherland and 
 feeling intensely that all men are brothers. 
 We see him chosen first editor of the Atlantic 
 that the venture might have a distinguishing 
 American flavor. His splendid appreciation 
 of the workers, in the times that tried the 
 hearts of men, as shown in the sonnets to Wen- 
 dell Phillips and Garrison, his counsel to Joshua 
 R. Giddings " to fear nothing and to hope all 
 things as the Right alone may do securely," 
 stir the blood of a younger generation of men. 
 Such utterances could come only from one 
 
Xovvell's Bmerfcantsm n 
 
 who sympathized intensely. If " great truths 
 are portions of the soul," then Lowell writing 
 his poem, "The Present Crisis," was filled with 
 love of country as devout as Warren's at 
 Bunker Hill, as devout as Abraham Lincoln's 
 in those dark hours when he sat at midnight 
 with the solemn thought of emancipation for 
 his companion. For 
 
 " Life may be given in many ways, 
 And loyalty to truth be sealed 
 As bravely in the closet as the field, 
 So generous is Fate." 
 There are single lines and phrases from the 
 " Biglow Papers," from the " Commemoration 
 Ode," and from some of the sublime sonnets 
 which, in anti-slavery days and during the civil 
 war, moved men to deeds of difficult valor. 
 That these are great and universal truths of 
 lofty patriotism, not suited to one time alone, 
 is amply proved by the use made of them to- 
 day by political writers and editors of both 
 parties. It was love of country that animated 
 them, that gave them enduring life. " I love 
 my country," said Lowell, " so as only they 
 who love a mother fit to die for may." He 
 spoke of her as one who 
 
 " lifts up the manhood of the poor 
 With room about her hearth for all mankind. 
 
 What words divine of lover or of poet 
 Could tell our love and make thee know it ? 
 Among the nations bright beyond compare ! " 
 
12 Clark pri3e ©rations 
 
 Men and women quoted as if an oracle had 
 spoken : 
 
 " Once to every man and nation comes the moment to 
 decide 
 In the strife of truth with falsehood for the good or 
 evil side." 
 
 A last best test of love is supplied by a study 
 of the later essays and addresses. Lowell's 
 faith was great in the ultimate working out of 
 the real problem of America, the assimilation 
 of all nationalities. He believed that America 
 would free every slave finally, that breathing 
 the fine air of freedom would work miracles. 
 He believed in her common-school system and 
 praised the wisdom which planted the log 
 schoolhouses " like Martello towers " along the 
 coast of New England. He felt deeply the 
 truth that " by no better way could a whole be 
 made of our discordant parts than by opening 
 a common door " to the best education possible. 
 
 His faith was equally great in her literature. 
 In the address given in New York, in com- 
 memoration of the hundredth anniversary of 
 Washington's inauguration, he said: "I be- 
 lieve that he who stands a hundred years hence 
 where I now stand, conscious that he speaks 
 to the most powerful and prosperous commu- 
 nity ever devised or developed by man, will 
 speak of our literature with the assurance of 
 one who beholds what we hope for and aspire 
 after become a reality and possession forever." 
 
TLowelVs Bmevicanism 13 
 
 In every published address of his, in London 
 at the memorial service for Garfield, in Bir- 
 mingham to the workingmen, as well as in 
 New York and Cambridge, there is an unmis- 
 takable note of fervent devotion to his native 
 land. "An American," said he on one of these 
 occasions, "can no more find another country 
 than a second mother." Again he said, " I am 
 not a believer in perpetual motion in politics 
 any more than in mechanics, but I have an im- 
 perturbable faith in the honesty, the intelli- 
 gence, and the good sense of the American 
 people and in the destiny of the American 
 republic." 
 
 When inaugurated president of the Birming- 
 ham and Midland Institute, he addressed that 
 body of men on the subject always dear to him 
 of " Democracy." He said : " We have taken 
 from Europe the poorest, the most ignorant, 
 the most turbulent of her people and have 
 made them over into good citizens, who are 
 ready to die in defense of a country, and of in- 
 stitutions which they i-:now to be worth dying 
 for." Here was no Anglomania. It was Jon- 
 athan to John as truly as when he wrote : 
 
 " The South says, ' Poor folks down,' John, 
 An' ' All men up,' say we." 
 
 If the day shall ever come when the youth 
 of this country are in danger of valuing lightly 
 what has cost so much, wise men will counsel 
 them to study the works of James Russell 
 
14 Clarfe ft>rf3e ©rations 
 
 Lowell. Within these volumes a history of 
 the intellectual and moral life of this nation is 
 found, transmuted by genius into letters of fire 
 that need no Daniel to decipher. 
 
 Of Lowell may be said what he has said of 
 others : " The world is only so many great 
 men old." " The wise years decide " it was an 
 epoch in American life when he was born. 
 
 In the ode written for the Fourth of July, 
 1876, he speaks finally with pathos of his coun- 
 try as 
 
 " Founded on faith in man, therefore sure to last. 
 For, O, my country, touched by thee, 
 The gray hairs gather back their gold ; 
 Thy thought sets all my pulses free ; 
 The heart refuses to be old. 
 Not to thy natal-day belong 
 Time's prudent doubt or age's wrong, 
 But gifts of gratitude and song : 
 For all that thou hast been to me ! " 
 
THE POWER OF THE MOSLEM 
 BY JOHN ROBERT BABCOCK, '98 
 
 In the year six hundred ten, at the Arabian 
 city of Mecca, a shrewd, successful, though un- 
 lettered merchant proclaimed the sublime truth 
 that "there is no god but God." 
 
 For twelve years he preached it to paganism 
 and polytheism. He met opposition and en- 
 dured oppression. Persecution and prejudice 
 finally drove him and his little band of follow- 
 ers, fleeing to the shelter of the mountains of 
 Medina, and Mohammed had failed. But his 
 flight and failure marked an epoch in human 
 history more momentous than the fate of bat- 
 tles, for the power of the Moslem was begun. 
 Henceforth the prophet was to be a political 
 chief ; and his weapon, the sword, was to hang 
 like a blazing flame of destruction over the 
 nations. 
 
 The sudden rise of the power of the Moslem 
 with its rapid and brilliant conquests, is a won- 
 der of history. On the instant error was added 
 to its teaching the faith of Islam spread like 
 wild-fire ; and within ten years after the as- 
 sumption of the sword by Mohammed, Mecca 
 had been conquered and the new creed estab- 
 lished over all Arabia. 
 
 There is nothing in history which presents a 
 
16 Clark ffi»vi3c ©rations 
 
 full parallel to that outburst of human energy, 
 which, inspired by genius and nerved by faith, 
 transformed the brutal, despised, idolatrous 
 Arabians, into the finest soldiers and the most 
 brilliant rulers. But these princely men of the 
 desert were great ; great in physical courage, 
 great in the quickness of the Eastern intellect 
 and great in their simplicity of life and man- 
 ners. These heroes-born broke their limits and 
 trod the open world, spurred on by the stimu- 
 lus of fanaticism, and who could resist their 
 power ? 
 
 Their first outbreak from the regions where 
 they had been confined so long was terrible. 
 The two powers of the East, the Byzantine and 
 Persian empires, had been ruling in fancied 
 security, little dreaming that the Moslem power, 
 growing in secret, was destined to destroy 
 them both. On the Byzantine empire the storm 
 first fell and its fairest provinces bowed before 
 the Moslem ; Palestine, Syria, and Egypt ac- 
 cepted the yoke and their chief cities were 
 wiped out. Constantinople itself, though twice 
 besieged, with difficulty weathered the storm 
 of the seventh century. The Roman empire 
 fell and northern Africa quickly shared its 
 doom. Crossing to Spain in 711 they over- 
 threw the kingdom of the Goths, planted them- 
 selves in Aquitaine, and before two years had 
 passed, the name of Mohammed was invoked 
 under the shadow of the Pyrenees. 
 
Gbe lpower of tbe Moslem 17 
 
 They threatened to make fair France their 
 own and with it all western Europe ; but at 
 Tours the proud wave of their victories was 
 stayed, and Charles Martel with his gathered 
 chivalry dealt the faith of Islam such a crush- 
 ing blow that for centuries it ceased its aggres- 
 sive pressure in the West. 
 
 In the East, however, their conquests did not 
 stop. They won their way along the coast of 
 Africa as far as the pillars of Hercules ; they 
 blotted out the Grecian phalanx, and the ban- 
 ners of the Moslem floated over the proudest 
 battlements of ancient Roman grandeur. 
 
 Although defeated at Tours and although the 
 conquests in Europe were stayed for more than 
 six centuries, the Moslem prestige suffered 
 nothing and invasions of Europe by Moslem 
 conquerors in subsequent years added glory to 
 the Moslem arms. 
 
 Think of the millions of European soldiers 
 of the crusades who followed their leaders to 
 Palestine and Egypt and melted like snow on 
 the battle-plains of Moslem countries, and 
 some conception of the Moslem power in the 
 eleventh and twelfth centuries can be gained. 
 The Seljuk Turks were conquered during this 
 period and the victorious sultans began their 
 march westward, and in 1453 Constantinople 
 fell. For more than a hundred years following 
 the Moslem power held sway in a blaze of glory. 
 Until 1566 there had been no step backward ; 
 
1 8 Clark fl>rf3e ©rations 
 
 their power in arms and conquest was at its 
 zenith and had no worthy rival. The dread 
 crescent appeared a crescent still. 
 
 But here Mohammedanism laid down the 
 sword and for three centuries it has used only 
 its power of amalgamating conquered and con- 
 verted peoples; and that power of binding and 
 welding its subjects into one united whole is 
 the secret of its continuance. 
 
 How shall we explain these extraordinary 
 successes ? How explain the power which en- 
 abled the Moslem to stamp deeply his man- 
 ners, his customs, and his religion, on a large 
 part of human kind ? 
 
 There are many considerations which help 
 to explain the rapid and widespread triumph 
 of Islam, but they do not account for it. Be- 
 neath and beyond all lies the source of tran- 
 scendent power, the vertebrate column of force 
 on which all auxiliary forces depend — the 
 proclamation of the one living and true God. 
 
 The absolute subservience of the Moslem to 
 the grand idea of the Oneness of God is unpar- 
 alleled in history. No nation or group of na- 
 tions have ever stood by their faith as the Mos- 
 lems do by theirs ; they live by it, fight for it, 
 die with it, and front time and eternity with its 
 power of truth. 
 
 Out of this faith there came to the Moslem 
 the power of utter fanaticism and fatalism. 
 Fanaticism born of the Oriental character was 
 
Sbe ipowev of tbe /Dboslem 19 
 
 a power in itself. Heredity of a thousand 
 years had strengthened the valor of the Arab 
 warrior. He was accustomed to the saddle 
 from his infancy. He was trained to the use 
 of arms. His whole activity, his all-absorbing 
 interest was in hostile foray. He knew no fear; 
 he had no scruples, and so the fanaticism of the 
 Moslem conquests was that of warriors. 
 
 But fatalism was also a great source of power. 
 The Moslem hosts went forth in the confidence 
 of a mission from heaven. They felt them- 
 selves to be the scourge of God, and wild with 
 the passion to do, though doing were dying, 
 they were utterly indifferent to the sufferings of 
 any who stood in the way of the dissemination 
 of truth. The faith of Islam taught them that 
 whoever draws the sword in its defense, whether 
 he fall or conquer, will receive a glorious reward, 
 and at death will be transported to Paradise to 
 revel in eternal pleasures. Thus on the field of 
 battle they were absolutely fearless ; as careless of 
 wounds and death as the Christian martyr in 
 the arena. Their unity of purpose lay in a com- 
 mon antagonism to paganism, and their con- 
 quest had no compassion; their humiliation no 
 tears. Their warfare was as pitiless as death; 
 their onset as resistless as the winds of their 
 desert home. 
 
 The faith of Islam bound with a knot of steel 
 the Kingdom of God and the Kingdom of the 
 Sword. As a religion it has realized all that it 
 
20 Clark ipti3e ©rations 
 
 was meant to be, but in it are found the ele- 
 ments of weakness as well as of strength; of 
 strength because it teaches the yielding of self 
 to God; of weakness, in that the surrender is 
 but the surrender of the weak to the strong. In 
 the Moslem heart as deep-rooted as error itself 
 was the truth that "Power belongeth to God," 
 but the followers of the merchant of Mecca 
 missed the truth that this absolute power is 
 wielded by perfect love. 
 
 We must not think that the power of the 
 Moslem has passed into history; it not only 
 was but is. The power of conquest is in part 
 gone but the strength of union still remains. 
 You have but to make the call to " the faithful " 
 and two hundred millions of Mohammedans will 
 rush to arms with blazing enthusiasm. It is but 
 yesterday that through the crowded bazaars of 
 Indian cities the Moslem dervishes ran crying: 
 " Kill ! kill ! in the name of Mohammed, kill ! " 
 and the dark record of the Great Indian Mutiny 
 shows how " the faithful " answered the appeal. 
 
 Even now the dervishes of the Soudan strive 
 to stay the advance of General Kitchner's force 
 to Khartoum; filled with the same fanatic fatal- 
 ism that but a few years ago flung itself to cer- 
 tain death on the British squares, from the 
 Wells of Abu Klea to Metemneh on the Nile. 
 
 Today the active Moslem missionaries in 
 India are making ten converts to Christianity's 
 one. Today we see the Moslem pressing upon 
 
Ebe power of tbe Moslem 21 
 
 Christian Greece and hunting defenseless Ar- 
 menians like wild beasts among the mountains. 
 Today all the Orient still trembles at the sound 
 of his battle-cry, and the end is not yet. His 
 religion still holds sway, a mighty power and 
 passion in the lives of millions of our fellow men. 
 
 The power of the Moslem is that of truth 
 over humanity; but it is the power of a half- 
 truth over brutalized humanity. By the God 
 who is the whole-truth, and by humanity spirit- 
 ual and Godlike, it shall fail in its time. 
 
 The power of the Moslem, as all false pow- 
 ers and half-powers, shall go down before the 
 power of God and His revelation through His 
 Son. 
 
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS AND WALLENSTEIN 
 
 IN THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR 
 
 BY HENRY KENDALL BOOTH, '98 
 
 A century had passed over Germany since 
 Martin Luther nailed his theses to the door of 
 the church in Wittenberg ; a century that saw 
 Protestantism spread from the sunny slopes of 
 the Rhine to the stormy shores of the Baltic ; 
 a century that almost made Protestantism the 
 religion of the whole German race. But the 
 strife between Lutheran and Calvinist was full 
 as bitter as that greater conflict between the 
 followers of Protestantism and the adher- 
 ents of Rome. Torn by dissensions, divided 
 by jealousy, racked by feud, the power of the 
 Protestant Union was daily on the wane; while 
 desperation and a common enemy welded like 
 steel the forces of the Catholic League. 
 
 Such were the mighty foes whose Titanic 
 struggle made Germany for thirty years the 
 scene of terrible warfare; warfare actuated by 
 religious dissensions, fed by religious hatred, 
 marked by irreligious cruelty and crime; war- 
 fare involving the greatest nations of Europe; 
 warfare making fruitful Germany a barren 
 wilderness of horror. 
 
 The war broke out in Bohemia. Ferdinand 
 II, good Catholic, ardent Jesuit, foolishly tried 
 
(Sustavua anD 7KHaUenstefn 23 
 
 to force the religion of Rome upon a sturdy 
 Protestant people. He was met by instant 
 and angry revolt. The Protestant Estates 
 swept all before them, dictating terms to the 
 frightened emperor in his very palace. Sud- 
 denly their power ceased. Maximilian and 
 Tilly at the head of the Catholic League, drove 
 them from the Palatinate and set the standard 
 of Ferdinand triumphant throughout broad 
 Bohemia. Desperate, disunited, the Protes- 
 tant Union besought the aid of their brothers 
 in Europe. In the North only was their cry 
 heard or heeded. Christian IV of Denmark, 
 impelled more by fear of Catholic than love of 
 Protestant, hurried to their rescue with a mighty 
 army. 
 
 To Ferdinand, the Dane was a terrible men- 
 ace. Bankrupt, friendless, the tool of the 
 Catholic League, he was powerless to move. 
 
 But a new actor appears on the scene; a 
 man of intense fatalism, tireless energy, iron 
 will, and insatiable ambition — Albrecht von 
 Wallenstein, Duke of Friedland. His offer of 
 assistance is eagerly accepted by the despair- 
 ing king. Gathering a powerful army, Wal- 
 lenstein forces the "Winter King" to flee for 
 his life, drives Mansfeld and Christian from 
 German soil, subdues all Germany, and carries 
 the terror of his name from the Palatinate to 
 the Peninsula. 
 
 As Wallenstein's power increases the power 
 
24 Clark fl>rf3e ©rations 
 
 of Ferdinand wanes. The Catholic League 
 behold this with alarm. Saved from utter ruin 
 by the tyranny of the sword, they yet rebel 
 against the tyrant. By false accusations, by 
 lying reports, by all the finesse of Jesuit cun- 
 ning, they compel the priest-ridden Ferdinand 
 to dismiss the man who saved his throne, his 
 very life. 
 
 Again are Catholic arms victorious. The 
 sandaled foot of the Jesuit is on his enemy's 
 neck; the power of the pope supreme in Ger- 
 many. Is Protestantism crushed ? Is that 
 faith dead for which Luther braved the thun- 
 ders of the Vatican, and Huss died triumphant 
 at the strike ? No ! From the fabled North 
 help comes once more. 
 
 It was the great Gustavus Vasa who planted 
 in the frozen soil of Sweden the precious seeds 
 of Luther's faith. But it was the greater Gus- 
 tavus Adolphus, the " Lion of the North," who 
 strode forth like valiant knight at the last ap- 
 peal of dying Protestantism. 
 
 A little fleet sailed from Elfsknaben amid 
 the prayers and tears of the whole Swedish 
 nation. It carried fifteen thousand men. Only 
 fifteen thousand Swedes, to fight for their 
 despairing brothers in the South, to face the 
 giant power of the House of Hapsburg, the 
 withering anathemas of the Vatican, and the 
 intrigues of Madrid ? Only fifteen thousand 
 Swedes — and Gustavus Adolphus. 
 
<Susta\ms anD TKttaHeiwtein 25 
 
 As he advances through populous Pom- 
 erania, the peasants eagerly welcome him. 
 Wallenstein had been cold and cruel; Gustavus 
 is gentle, generous, and just. 
 
 But Ferdinand had not been idle. Rich 
 Magdeburg was razed to the ground by Tilly 
 midst scenes of horror unparalleled in all that 
 awful war. Of its fifty thousand inhabitants 
 but five thousand escaped the fearful slaughter. 
 That act decided many a reluctant prince to aid 
 an alien, rather than swear allegiance to such a 
 king. 
 
 Gustavus has now been a year in Germany. 
 Thus far his victories have been those of 
 patience and kindness. But he must prove his 
 right to the golden spurs of " Knight of Prot- 
 estantism," upon the bloody battlefield. He 
 meets the terrible Tilly at Breitenfeld, and 
 drives his army back, back, until those heroes 
 of a dozen battles break and flee before the 
 impetuous onslaught. Tilly's intrepidity de- 
 serted him that day. He saw before his trem- 
 bling gaze the fearful figure of the ghost of 
 Magdeburg. Wounded, defeated, heart-broken, 
 he fled in headlong haste. A few fugitives 
 accompanied him, the miserable remnant of 
 that mighty Imperialist army which had made 
 all Germany tremble. 
 
 Gustavus marches on. The Swedish colors 
 wave o'er Main, Wurzburg, Frankfurt, May- 
 ence, the Palatinate of the Rhine. Whole cities 
 
26 ciarfe lprl3e ©rations 
 
 come out with garland-welcome to crown him 
 saviour, king. His progress down the castled 
 Rhine is one grand triumphal march. Tilly 
 tries to stop him on the Lech, but is swept 
 aside as the straw before the storm. The em- 
 peror at Vienna begins to tremble. Will noth- 
 ing stop the terrible Swede ? On, on he comes. 
 He enters Munich. Ferdinand is in mortal 
 terror. His friends and allies gone, he is left — 
 alone. There is but one man in all the world 
 to whom he can turn, and that man he has of- 
 fended. 
 
 The gloomy Wallenstein, waiting in sullen 
 seclusion at Prague, trusting in his future as 
 " the Favorite of the Stars " receives an em- 
 bassy from his humbled and repentant Kaiser. 
 It is repulsed. Again comes an even more 
 humble prayer, and at last the haughty Duke 
 leaves the study of the stars and once more 
 goes forth to war. The magic of his name col- 
 lects a mighty army. He drives the Saxons 
 out of Austria, regains the lost provinces, 
 brings the revolting princes to submission, and 
 marches to meet the Swedish hero at Liitzen. 
 These two Titans are now to grapple in that 
 death-struggle which shall decide the fate of 
 Protestantism in the Fatherland. 
 
 It is the sixteenth of November, 1632. Gusta- 
 vus has decided to attack. Walking out in 
 front of the long lines of veteran Swedes, he 
 kneels, and, with all the fervor of his mighty 
 
(Sustavus anD TKflallenstefn 27 
 
 heart, prays for the blessing of God upon the 
 righteous cause. And the whole army falls 
 upon its knees, and together king and people 
 chant the grand old battle-hymn of Altenburg: 
 
 " Now, Lord Jesus, grant our prayer. 
 Great Captain, now thine arm make bare, 
 Fight for us once again. 
 So shall thy saints and martyrs raise 
 A mighty chorus to thy praise, 
 World without end. Amen." 
 
 All day long victory wavers along the lines 
 of struggling, dying men. Again and again 
 the Swedes hurl themselves upon the Austrian 
 ranks, but all in vain — for Wallenstein is there. 
 Gustavus leads a desperate charge against the 
 Austrian left. On, on he comes, riding far in 
 advance. He is hit, he is down, his life-blood 
 is ebbing fast, but he still finds strength to cry, 
 " I am the king of Sweden. I seal with my 
 blood the liberties of the German nation." 
 Another thrust from a pike, and with the gasp- 
 ing words, " My God ! My God ! My poor 
 queen ! " Gustavus Adolphus dies. 
 
 The battle of Liitzen decided for ever the 
 fate of the House of Austria. It tolled the knell 
 of the Catholic power in Germany. 
 
 Two years later Wallenstein perished by an 
 assassin's hand, the victim of a treacherous 
 and ungrateful king. With all his faults, he is 
 still cherished in German hearts as the great- 
 est leader of that woful war. Distrusted, de- 
 
28 GlarK lprt3e ©rations 
 
 famed, maligned by Protestant and Jesuit alike, 
 he towers still, high above his craven king, his 
 base accusers. 
 
 Gustavus was one of the world's greatest 
 men. Patriotic, unselfish, grand, he is the 
 idol of Sweden, the hero of the world. 
 
 Wallenstein was crafty, cruel, and calcula- 
 ting ; Gustavus impulsive, genial, kind. The 
 Friedlander trusted only to his fateful star, the 
 Swede rested his faith on God alone. The one 
 was the half-hearted defender of oppression, 
 the other the fearless champion of freedom. 
 
 Wallenstein wished to rear a mighty struc- 
 ture of blood and sweat — a despotism of the 
 sword. Gustavus tried to found a stable gov- 
 ernment for peaceful men. Neither lived to 
 see the fruition of his hopes. 
 
 The daring creation of the mighty Duke has 
 long since crumbled into dust ; but the noble 
 name and fame of Gustavus Adolphus will live 
 so long as freedom and right and truth and 
 justice shall endure. The life-blood of the 
 " Lion of the North" forever sealed the free- 
 dom of the German people, the freedom of 
 German religion, and the freedom of German 
 thought. 
 
SCHOPENHAUER THE PESSIMIST 
 
 BY HENRY WHITE '98 
 
 Out of the night, the stormy night, preceding 
 the birth of this century, whose darkness gave 
 way to the dawn of a new age of liberty and 
 hope for man, rose Arthur Schopenhauer, prince 
 and paragon of pessimism. 
 
 Down through the centuries appeared moun- 
 tain peaks where the sunbeams loved to linger 
 — optimists pointing men upward, idealists be- 
 lieving in the reality and ultimate triumph of 
 the good. By their side appeared volcanoes 
 fitfully smoking and rumbling, sometimes 
 bursting into lurid flames, then sinking back in- 
 to quietude — unreasoning pessimists strange- 
 ly oppressed with the "grief of the world." 
 Long-suffering Job had mourned by his tent 
 in Chaldea. Byron had laughed "the shrill 
 laugh of self-consuming irony." Swift and 
 Goethe had found discords in life, and Words- 
 worth's song was not without its note of "beau- 
 tiful sadness." Then like some wild Vesuvius 
 shooting out from the earth's sordid depths 
 its sulphurous and gloom-enveloping smoke, 
 and lighting up with a leaden fire the desola- 
 tion which it leaves, above the rumblings of 
 other ages rose Schopenhauer and gave vent to 
 his great philosophy of despair. 
 
30 Clark fl>rf3e ©cations 
 
 The West needed Schopenhauer. The ener- 
 getic Teuton, fighting against odds for his 
 daily bread, could not postulate a "twilight 
 Hades." In his hopefulness he did not stop 
 short of a Valhalla of feast and war. Plagues 
 which swept death over Europe, wars which 
 were chronicled by decades instead of years 
 and which left few homes without mourners, 
 were soon forgotten in bright expectations. 
 On the other hand the learned and luxurious 
 East had long since trampled hope and had 
 flockedto thefeetof Buddha. Gleaning instinct- 
 ively from Eastern fields, Schopenhauer spent 
 his treasure in the West. The disciple of the 
 Eastern mystics, he became the apostle of the 
 Western cynics. In a rigid philosophical 
 system he gave voice to men's unexpressed 
 despair. 
 
 Irresistibly the sinister Fates urged him to 
 this philosophy. The only son of a well-to-do 
 merchant his legacy was, not wealth and posi- 
 tion, but a morbid nature. The child of a 
 gifted and society-loving mother, he hated 
 society. At his father's wish he became a 
 merchant only to deal in unhappy thoughts. 
 Not content in business he studied in the great 
 universities, there delving deep for a philos- 
 ophy of hateful conclusions. A linguist, he 
 read in many languages the same woe of men. 
 A philosopher, he elaborated a whole system out 
 of the injustices of men. Pessimism was his 
 
Scbopenbauer tbe pessimist 31 
 
 birthright. Hateful heritage it may have been 
 in the light of Christianity ! Wonderful part 
 it has played in the advance of right. Intol- 
 erant religion unveiled truth before his search- 
 ing glance. Shallow optimism withered and 
 died under his curse. A true philosopher, 
 rising above the world out of himself, he saw, 
 as in a bird's-eye view, humanity. 
 . And how dreary the outlook. In the bloom 
 and hope of spring he thought only of the 
 chill and icy blasts of winter. When winter 
 had smothered the flowers beneath her snowy 
 blanket he had no thoughts of the fruitful 
 summer. 
 
 Let us look upon this old world with this 
 pessimist's eye. Life is sad and short. "A 
 fleeting mirage." No warmth of love is in it. 
 It is below the freezing-point. "Things are 
 in the saddle and ride mankind." Vice and 
 greed stalk over the land in their cruel might, 
 crushing out the lives of innocents; and there is 
 none to say them nay. Dreaded war and terri- 
 ble pestilencedragfamineand affliction over the 
 earth; and civilization makes it more awful. 
 See religion bound hand and foot by foolish 
 custom ! Behold the pall of ignorance cover- 
 ing heathen millions ! Think of pulpit, politics, 
 the press, serfs of wickedness ! Think and 
 say whether we may not impeach life in the name 
 of truth. But strong men in health laugh and 
 say : This world is good. They are untried 
 
32 Clark f>r(3e ©rations 
 
 children. Let affliction seize them with its 
 grimy hands; let them wither under disease or 
 writhe with a cripple's anguish, and full soon 
 they will cry: For what end is life? Why this 
 suffering? Youth grows to age, struggles, dies. 
 " Each time a man is born the clock is wound 
 up again to play the same hackneyed tune, bar 
 for bar, measure for measure, with unimportant 
 variations." 
 
 Is there then no explanation? There is but 
 one answer. We live for the race. This is the 
 goal. There is no immortality. What means 
 this more than Russian despotism galling the 
 neck of humanity? Who holds the sceptre 
 that rules the world? The great pessimist 
 answers: Not love, not intelligence, but in- 
 stinctive will. The inexplicable caprice of life 
 is deeper than reason, mightier than love. The 
 irresistible force of nature's will controls not 
 only matter, but men, the helpless tools and 
 puppets of remorseless necessity. Wouldst 
 thou know thyself? Study nature or its image 
 — art. There in its restlessness is the simple 
 will. Thou art part of that. Wouldst thou 
 attain happiness? Seek it in negation of the 
 will. Blot out existence ! The boon of man 
 is self-emancipation. What abject hopeless- 
 ness ! Oh, bottomless pit, oh weary tragedy — 
 life! Always striving, never attaining. The 
 heart throbbing only that it may throb again. 
 Strange irony of fate! Blind impulse working 
 
Scbopenbauct tbe ipessfmfst 33 
 
 out a salvation which at the end is — naught ! 
 Man's destiny, the voiceless night. Such is 
 the pessimism of Schopenhauer. 
 
 Against it is raised the strong white arm of 
 the Christian faith, which scatters the bitter 
 gloom of death and conquers the galling 
 tyranny of life. In the presence of a religion 
 of blessing, a religion of curses can not stand. 
 Demand an immortality of life, postulate a 
 knowing and loving God, and these damp fogs 
 lift before the rays of an eternal sun. Above 
 his head Schopenhauer holds a smoking torch. 
 In the dark it shines. Under the sunlight of 
 the Christian faith there appears only a sooty 
 stick. Peering with the pessimist's light one 
 sees wierd shadows assuming horrid shapes, 
 the forms of demons, dancing at the doom of 
 men; uncertainty everywhere; but let fall upon 
 the world the radiance of the Cross and dark 
 caverns become crystal palaces, distorted 
 shapes assume forms of beauty; straight and 
 purposeful is the path of life. 
 
 A striking commentary on Schopenhauer 
 the pessimist, is Schopenhauer the man. Lu- 
 gubrious philosopher, sadder man. Passionate, 
 arrogant, egotistical, he went through life, de- 
 spising and despised, almost without friends. 
 His servants, his disciples, his mother; he 
 loved not one. "Great men," he said, "have 
 few friends. Like the eagles they build their 
 nests on dizzy heights, alone." And yet oddly 
 
34 Glarft Prf3e ©rations 
 
 enough, as Childe Harold, leaving without sor- 
 row friends and native land, thought tenderly 
 but of his dog; so Schopenhauer, disdaining 
 men, loved the dumb brute. The philosopher 
 who announced the gospel of compassion for 
 all that is doomed to live, lacked the kindly 
 sympathy for men. None has denounced more 
 scathingly than he cruelty to our dumb fellow 
 creatures; none has been more lacking than he 
 in the truer kindness of action. Schopenhauer 
 the man disproves Schopenhauer the pessimist. 
 
 His philosophy, strangely impressive, holds 
 peculiar sway over the minds of his country- 
 men, working sad havoc in their lives. With 
 hope gone, where shall men turn but to anarchy 
 and license? Gloomy day when he was born! 
 Sad the world that must needs buy truth at 
 the price of such a doctrine. 
 
 What a contrast between this pessimist and 
 his great countryman, Beethoven ! Spurned 
 by men, his philosophy unnoticed, Schopen- 
 hauer became a despondent old man chained 
 by his tormenting pessimism to the rock of 
 despair. The great musician, racked by fear- 
 ful pains, oppressed by as gloomy forebodings, 
 yet struggled up, cleared the slough, grasped 
 the truth, saw the light. And men catch in his 
 wonderful music today something of the fire 
 and hope which tells of victory. 
 
 Like a lighthouse on northern shores, 
 Schopenhauer shall stand in history warning 
 
Scbopenbauer tfoe ipesstmtst 35 
 
 men away from treacherous rocks, disclosing 
 the cold and troubled sea. Though he lived 
 and died unknown; a stranger in his native 
 land; a prophet without honor; the philos- 
 opher of , the half and bitter truth; yet today 
 he lives in the thought and philosophy of the 
 German people as no other philosopher, con- 
 trolling their views of life, denying all hope 
 beyond the grave, deifying human passion — 
 the bitterest enemy of society and moral living 
 that the world has ever known. 
 
 Schopenhauer was a pessimist in both intel- 
 lect and heart — the embodiment of the saddest 
 views of life ever conceived by a great mind; 
 and his philosophy will live on as long as the 
 human intellect can doubt, the human heart 
 suffer. He was the great negator. His mes- 
 sage, despair. 
 
DANTE AS THE INTERPRETER OF THE 
 MIDDLE AGES 
 
 BY EDWARD REYNOLDS WRIGHT, '98 
 
 Happy is the nation that has a national poet. 
 His is the duty to write in immortal words, the 
 hopes and aspirations of his age. Such 
 was the duty of Dante, " the interpreter of the 
 middle ages," " the voice often silent centuries." 
 
 As a statesman, without an equal; the first 
 reformer who dared openly to attack the 
 papacy; a patriot who gave his life for his 
 country's good; the first, yes, and the last poet 
 of the middle ages; the poet who made Chris- 
 tianity the theme of the greatest epic since 
 Homer sang the glories of ancient Greece; 
 Dante, grand and solitary, stands guard over 
 the mighty past. He dared to voice the hopes 
 and aspirations of the age in which he lived. 
 He placed before himself an ideal, both political 
 and religious, and sought to attain this ideal. 
 For this he was driven from his native city 
 under penalty of death; friendless and alone 
 he become a wanderer upon the face of the 
 earth, believing in his convictions to the last. 
 Is it then to be wondered that he became silent 
 and morose, implacable toward his enemies, 
 pursuing them to the very depths of hell? 
 
Dante, Interpreter of /JlMoole Sges 37 
 
 " Woe to the man on whom this traveler turned 
 the inscrutable glare of his eyes." 
 
 But Dante's exile and suffering bore rich 
 fruit, and the centuries coming after reaped an 
 abundant harvest. Sorrowful and resentful 
 by nature, " his love was as transcendent as 
 his soul." Hating and despising the world 
 which he sought to elevate, he lived solitary 
 and alone in its very midst. He was a pro- 
 found philosopher and theologian, yet some- 
 thing more than genius and great learning was 
 needed to write the Divine Comedy. There 
 was needed an ennobling passion, the outburst 
 of a torn and bleeding heart. This passion 
 Dante had, and it found utterance in his ideal- 
 ized love and reverential admiration for 
 Beatrice. Of Beatrice, Dante says : " If it 
 please Him through whom all things come, 
 that my life be spared, I hope to tell such 
 things of her as never before have been seen 
 by any one." How well he fulfils his sacred 
 promise, the Divine Comedy attests in undying 
 words. In the figure of the ideal Beatrice he 
 has immortalized all that was good and noble 
 in middle-age chivalry. To her he dedicated 
 his " marvelous, mystic, unfathomable song, in 
 which he sang his sorrows and his joys, re- 
 vealed his visions, and recorded the passions 
 and sentiments of his age." 
 
 The age of Dante was an age when the end 
 of all things was thought to be near at hand, 
 
38 Clark ff»rt3e ©rations 
 
 and the wonders of the invisible world had 
 laid fast hold on the imaginations of men. 
 More than one man had descended from the 
 world of light into eternal darkness and re- 
 turned to relate his fearful journey; but 
 Dante is the one "authorized topographer" 
 of the medieval hell. From all ages he took 
 his material; from the Jews, their Old Testa- 
 ment traditions; from the pagans, Minos the 
 relentless judge, Cerberus the three-headed 
 monster, and Charon, hateful ferryman of the 
 Styx. All this he mingled with the scholastic 
 notions of his own age. Yet this picture of hell 
 would have been of no effect. It was when he 
 peopled hell with popes hardly buried, kings 
 just driven from their thrones, Guelfs and 
 Ghibellines only yesterday engaged in deadly 
 strife, that the picture became a living reality. 
 This was hell separated from the earth by a 
 gulf barred to no sinful soul. This it was that 
 gave to the middle ages their dark and gloomy 
 aspect. Dante's description was only a natu- 
 ral outgrowth of that age of superstition, love 
 and hatred. 
 
 In itself this was a hopeless picture. With- 
 out purgatory and paradise, hell would not 
 have been a reality. With no hope of future 
 blessedness, men could not have lived in those 
 centuries when witches wove their destructive 
 webs and the spirits of the dead groaned in 
 their graves. Purgatory, to the people of that 
 
Dante, Interpreter of /IIMoole "Bqcs 39 
 
 age, was a place of transition. There, was the 
 earthly paradise; there, men were purified of 
 the sins of the flesh; there, the souls, not yet 
 condemned to the hopelessness of eternal suf- 
 fering, received their just punishment; there, 
 constantly buoyed up by the hope of attaining 
 the heavenly paradise, they struggled and 
 toiled up the steep slope of the mount of pur- 
 gatory until they stood on the banks of the 
 Lethe. Into this they plunged and were puri- 
 fied. Rising from the waters they beheld the 
 dazzling light of paradise. There, the triune 
 God, Father, Son and Holy Ghost, sat en- 
 throned in the heaven of heavens, encircled by 
 the angels and archangels. All was one mys- 
 tical, dazzling splendor, unfathomable as the 
 endless space. 
 
 Such is this great poem in which is immor- 
 talized all the good, yes, and the evil of those 
 centuries of darkness. 
 
 But Dante did not give all his attention to 
 religious meditation. He took an active part 
 in political life, fought in the battle of Cam- 
 paldino, was present at the taking of Caprona, 
 and became the ruler of Florence, the city of 
 his birth. He stood on the threshold of a new 
 era. Scarcely fifty years before Pope Innocent 
 III had made the nations of the earth bow 
 down in homage; yet Dante lived to see the 
 papal bull burned in the streets of Paris and 
 
40 Clarft fl>ri3e ©rations 
 
 Boniface VIII dragged in his princely robes 
 through the gutters of Anagni. 
 
 Italy was a house divided against itself. 
 For centuries it had been the battle-field for 
 the nations of the North. Guelfs and Ghibel- 
 lines; Neri and Bianchi; egged on by pope 
 and emperor, kept up the terrible contest. 
 Italy had seen the pope triumphant; she had 
 seen him degraded; she had seen two popes 
 in rivalry, one at Avignon, the other at Rome, 
 each claiming divine succession. As a natural 
 result men began first to doubt, then to think 
 for themselves. They divided into parties and 
 factions, one supporting the supremacy of the 
 pope, the other of the emperor: the church 
 universal — world empire, which should be 
 supreme? 
 
 Here was planted the germ of Italian unity, 
 not destined to be realized until the present 
 century. But still an interpreter was needed, 
 one who would give form to the vague hopes 
 and longings. Such a man was Dante. To 
 Italy "he was the thirteenth century." The 
 social and moral condition of Italy, with the 
 corruptions of state and church, he depicted 
 with a noble indignation, which in later years 
 became the key-note of the Reformation. 
 
 Giving voice to the secret hope of every true 
 Italian, he set forth a complete system of 
 world empire, both temporal and spiritual 
 with the emperor as the supreme head, owing 
 
2>ante, Unterpreter of rtlMDDle %qcs <m 
 
 allegiance to none but God. By this means 
 he hoped to bring peace to distracted Italy, 
 but even to the men of his own day this was a 
 mere dream; few hoped it and none but Dante 
 dared voice his hope. 
 
 Through all the succeeding centuries of dis- 
 memberment, tyranny, and suffering, when the 
 infernal motto: "All hope abandon ye who 
 enter here " seemed written over the gateway 
 of the Alps, Italy lived in the Divine Comedy. 
 Oftentimes the spirit of liberty seemed extinct, 
 but inspired by the memory of the patriot poet, 
 there arose a Galileo, a Tasso, a Garibaldi, a 
 Cavour, and at last a united Italy. 
 
pru^n fIDebal ©ration 
 
 MORAL LAZINESS THE FOE TO MUNICI- 
 PAL REFORM 
 BY JOHN ROBERT BABCOCK, '98 
 
 Municipal reform aims to govern our cities 
 according to their needs. Cities in human his- 
 tory have been centres of light; they have been 
 also centres of corruption. Human history, 
 for good or ill, has hinged upon cities. The 
 modern effort is to preserve and strengthen 
 the good, to expel or weaken the bad. 
 
 There are two lines of evil in municipal gov- 
 ernment, one of greed, the other of lust; one 
 which, from the money nominally expended 
 for the general good, filches for private profit; 
 the other which levies a private tax for the 
 protection of outlawed evil. A third evil ex- 
 ists which goes hand in hand with these: the 
 placing in positions of responsibility, men, not 
 because they are fit for the work, but because 
 they can serve the evil purposes of leaders. 
 
 Municipal reform seeks clean, honest, capa- 
 ble administration of public affairs. These 
 qualities involve primarily moral considera- 
 tions; they are not matters of political affilia- 
 tion, but of character and life. 
 
44 Drugn /ifceoal ©cation 
 
 Moral laziness is a reluctance to act on moral 
 considerations. The facility with which mo- 
 tives stir men seems in inverse force to their real 
 importance; physical menace rouses the brute 
 in humanity at once; intellectual difference 
 awakens strenuous antagonism; mere moral 
 elements stir men but slowly. So it comes 
 that as municipal reform turns upon morals, 
 moral laziness is its foe. 
 
 In an enlightened community where the 
 great majority are right living and right think- 
 ing, this moral laziness is the chief foe of the 
 reform so necessary to our corrupted system 
 of municipal politics. We do not reform be- 
 cause our business men, our educated men, our 
 cultivated citizens are too busy to attend the 
 primaries; too intelligent to mix with the 
 ignorant horde of politicians; too delicate to 
 soil their hands at the dirty wheel of the " ma- 
 chine." They prefer to sit at their ease and 
 let corrupt politics be run by corrupt men. 
 Their indifference says: "It does not affect 
 me; I am not responsible; why should I put 
 forth any effort ? " They neglect their duty 
 and their moral laziness puts patriotism to 
 shame. 
 
 For our ablest and most honored citizens 
 selfishly to scorn public station, for our edu- 
 cated and cultivated citizens to be indifferent 
 to municipal questions and then to expect the 
 intricate affairs of our great cities to be intelli- 
 
.Municipal IReform 45 
 
 gently managed by ignorant men is absurd. It 
 is more, it is criminal. 
 
 The same authority which binds a man to be 
 a Christian father, binds him also to be a 
 Christian citizen. He can no more divest him- 
 self of the responsibility of citizenship than he 
 can lay aside the light of God's Truth. Chris- 
 tianity binds us to seek the welfare of our fel- 
 low men, temporal as well as spiritual, politi- 
 cal as well as social, and the man who neglects 
 either is a shirk and a coward. 
 
 A hundred years ago our cities were as our 
 rural communities are today; then we did not 
 need municipal reform. Whoever was nomi- 
 nated for office was known to his neighbors 
 and the consciousness of that knowledge was a 
 conservative influence in determining nomina- 
 tions. 
 
 But in the great cities of today the primaries 
 are the power; the voter cannot know the can- 
 didate. The best men can be nominated; and 
 reforms can be instituted only by personal 
 work and individual effort on the part of every 
 honest voter. "If ignorance, corruption, and 
 intrigue control the primary meetings, manage 
 the convention and dictate the nomination, the 
 fault lies with the honest voter"; were he as 
 energetic and industrious; were he as constant 
 and faithful to his political rights as are the 
 voters of the slums, the grog-shops and the 
 pool-rooms, municipal reform would be a ques- 
 tion of but one* election day. 
 
46 priori ^DSedal ©ration 
 
 It has been said that there is an essentially 
 American doctrine " that the public offices are 
 public trusts, not personal perquisites," but how 
 terribly untrue has it become. The " spoils 
 system " makes one hundred thousand men in 
 office dependent on the smiles of political 
 patrons and turns, perhaps, a million more into 
 office-seekers; showing all too plainly the rea- 
 son for the firm bond between corruption and 
 the " machine." But misgovernment of the 
 great city comes home to each citizen in heavy 
 taxes, bad drainage, dirty streets, and epidemic 
 disease, and still he neglects his political duty. 
 This is not due to the lack of the perception of 
 evils, but to that inertness which needs the 
 spurring stimulus of special exegencies to rouse 
 it to action. 
 
 Municipal reform does not require a radical 
 reorganization of our electoral system; it needs 
 a revolution in our conceptions of public duty; 
 it needs constant and active practical partici- 
 pation in the details of politics; it needs 
 strength of will that will advance it at whatever 
 personal sacrifice. 
 
 The ward club and primary, these elemen- 
 tary but fundamental parts of political organi- 
 zation, in the hands of crafty and venal men, 
 have been the sources of corruption. Their 
 history has been a curious combination of 
 fraud and farce. The public conscience must 
 
dfcunicfpal IReform 47 
 
 be aroused to take possession of these as well 
 as of the voting-booth and ballot-box. But 
 corruption has control and it holds it by organ- 
 ization. It is as true of parties as of armies, 
 that without organization, without unity of 
 purpose and without concert of action there 
 can be no success. Unorganized right will 
 never triumph over organized wrong. No 
 worthy citizen is of too fine clay to stand in 
 the ranks; no true American should despise or 
 refuse his blood-bought right of franchise. 
 
 Moral laziness has been stirred. The hor- 
 rors of prison life in Europe meant nothing till 
 John Howard, hero, roused the lazy conscience 
 of civilization. The slave trade meant nothing 
 till Wilberforce woke the moral sense of Eng- 
 land. Chattel slavery meant nothing until 
 "Uncle Tom's Cabin" roused the moral judg- 
 ment of America. It can be stirred to munici- 
 pal reform, and that it be stirred and thrown 
 off is the duty of every right-minded citizen. 
 
Ibeafc prise ©ration 
 
 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF NEW YORK STATE 
 
 TO ALEXANDER HAMILTON 
 
 BY ALLAN PEPPERELL AMES, '98 
 
 On the sixth of September, 1774, a crowd of 
 citizens had gathered in a meadow outside the 
 city of New York. They had come to learn 
 from orators their duty as Americans and their 
 duty as subjects of the king of England; for 
 the black war-cloud was creeping up over the 
 horizon, and the men of New York scarcely 
 knew what it portended. The speeches had 
 been full of fire and patriotism, but lacking in 
 a clear presentation of the situation. The 
 throng was unsatisfied, and the shouts which 
 greeted the speakers were mingled with cheers 
 for King George; when a boy of seventeen, a 
 sophomore of King's College, comes out of 
 the press and steps upon the platform. He 
 begins to speak, at first with hesitation, but 
 then inspired by his theme and a conscious 
 mastery of it, he pours out, his dark eyes aglow, 
 his slight frame quivering with earnestness, a 
 flood of words luminous with meaning. The 
 listening multitude are held by his logic and 
 eloquence. Light flashes into every mind. 
 They see the oppression of Parliament and the 
 
BlejanDer t)amilton 49 
 
 justice of their cause; they comprehend the 
 human right of liberty. . . . This is the 
 first appearance, upon the political stage, of 
 Alexander Hamilton; the first entry to his 
 credit upon the pages of the history of New 
 York, in that account which did not cease to 
 grow until the blood which flowed on the 
 heights of Weehawken drew the red line that 
 marked its end. 
 
 The war-cloud spread, covered the sky, 
 broke, and vanished. The colonies emerged 
 from the darkness of the Revolutionary strug- 
 gle, free. Years passed; and what were the 
 "Confederated States of America?" — a dis- 
 cordant league of independent commonwealths, 
 jealous, feeble, bankrupt. But hope dawned; 
 for the Constitution had been framed and 
 passed in the Convention of 1787 and was now 
 before the sovereign States for their ratification. 
 New York, proud, self-reliant, tenacious of her 
 State-rights, was the political centre of the 
 country. Toward her in this crisis the eyes of 
 the nation were turned. Nine States had rati- 
 fied the Constitution, yet she hesitated. The 
 nationalists were zealous, but their opponents 
 seemed too strong. Hamilton, the " father of 
 the Constitution," exerted all his powers of 
 argument and rhetoric for its adoption. 
 Through the pages of the " Federalist " he ex- 
 pounded the whole system of government and 
 explained every phase of the situation. His 
 reasoning was irresistible. The drift of public 
 
So IbeaD ip>rt3e ©ratfon 
 
 opinion set in favor of the plan of national 
 government. Delegate after delegate of the 
 State Convention was won over. The contro- 
 versy waxed hot as it drew to a close and the 
 issue was still in doubt. It was the eloquence 
 of Hamilton that carried the day. He pictured 
 "the awful spectacle of a nation without a 
 national government"; he showed the helpless- 
 ness of New York if out of the Union; by the 
 memory of the martyrs of the Revolution, he 
 called upon the Convention to act wisely. The 
 final vote was taken; the Constitution was 
 ratified by a majority of three; and Hamilton 
 had won. He had saved New York from her- 
 self, saved her to the Union. From that twenty- 
 fifth of July, 1788, dates the prosperity of the 
 Empire State. 
 
 Today New York is imperial not only in pop- 
 ulation, natural resources, and industrial pros- 
 perity, but also in educational progress. Every 
 year, from scores of colleges thousands of 
 young men and women are graduated. From 
 the time that they enter the high school and 
 academy until they stand upon the commence- 
 ment stage the State is their alma mater. 
 
 In broad minds there is room at the same 
 time for more than one great plan. Even while 
 laboring with the problems of the Constitution, 
 Hamilton formulated and put into operation a 
 scheme of public education that bears compar- 
 ison with those which in Europe have been the 
 results of long experience and successive acts 
 
Ble^anOer Damilton 51 
 
 of imperial legislation. The University of the 
 State since its establishment in 1784 had been 
 nothing but a name. In 1787 Hamilton intro- 
 duced into the Assembly a resolution repeal- 
 ing theiormer law and incorporating the body 
 which flourishes today under the name of the 
 "Regents of the University." His design "fore- 
 cast in the sphere of education the political 
 organization, which, in the Constitutional Con- 
 vention of the same year, he applied to the 
 union of the States." Centralization of gov- 
 ernment was the fundamental idea of both. 
 The Regents are the only official body elected 
 by partisan vote yet independent of party. No 
 department of State-service has been more ef- 
 ficiently and economically administered. Dur- 
 ing a life of over a century the names of the 
 illustrious men of New York have stood upon 
 its rolls: such names as Clinton, Jay, Schuyler, 
 Lansing, Curtis, Upson. For one hundred and 
 ten years its aim has been, to give each branch 
 of knowledge its place and value, to provide 
 for the cultivation of every variety of talent, 
 to lay a broad foundation of common educa- 
 tion for the support of the whole moral and 
 political frame of society. 
 
 This is what Alexander Hamilton did for his 
 State: he brought her into the Union; he gave 
 her a noble system of education. What man 
 has done more? What statesman has looked 
 further into the future? What student of so- 
 ciology has shown more extensive learning? 
 
52 f>eafc pri^e ©ration 
 
 Let his enemies point to his overpowering per- 
 sonal ambition; for these deeds there was but 
 one motive — purest patriotism. But these 
 are not all. As treasurer of the " treasureless 
 treasury," as representative at the national 
 capitol, as a private citizen in his law office at 
 Albany he did not cease to direct the political 
 affairs of New York. What Washington was 
 to the nation, Hamilton was to the State. 
 
 The curtain rises upon the last act of the 
 drama. Into the foreground moves the dark 
 figure of the man who enabled Hamilton to 
 perform his last signal service to his State. 
 Aaron Burr had grown to be a dangerous 
 power in politics, when, in 1804, he became 
 candidate for governor of New York. In 
 twenty years of rivalry Hamilton had learned 
 Burr's unscrupulous and treacherous character. 
 He saw the peril that threatened the State with 
 such a man as its chief executive; and the 
 same patriotism that led him to preserve New 
 York to the Union urged him now to guard 
 her against the ambition of the demagogue. 
 He knew what bitter enmity his opposition 
 would arouse; it may be even that his pro- 
 phetic vision beheld the fatal meeting on the 
 field of honor; but he did not hesitate. Into 
 the conflict he threw all his political power and 
 personal influence, and Burr was defeated. The 
 world knows the rest: the deadly hatred of 
 Burr, the challenge, the duel, the grief of a 
 nation for a faithful servant, of a State for a 
 loving- son. 
 
Ikirfclanb fP>ri3e Oration 
 
 THE MOSAIC LAW 
 BY CHARLES GIDEON EMPIE, '98 
 
 A wonderful law, given to a wonderful peo- 
 ple. A legislation at once universal and par- 
 ticular; temporal, and yet for all time. A sys- 
 tem so sublime in its conception; and so effect- 
 ive and lasting in its results that, compared 
 with it, other laws of early times seem short- 
 sighted and trivial. 
 
 Great truths were indeed taught, and wise 
 laws enacted by other sages of olden time, 
 but they made no deep and lasting impression. 
 They were of pure gold; but they needed the 
 divine stamp to make them current and effect- 
 ive in every-day life. The sprinkling-pot can 
 never equal the rain which comes down from 
 heaven; nor water poured from a vessel of clay 
 equal that coming from the fountain of life. 
 "Thus saith Solon," can never have the force 
 of " thus saith the Lord." 
 
 We may admire the laws of other men; but 
 we live under those of Moses. Like the 
 stream which rapt Ezekiel, with prophetic vis- 
 ion, saw issuing from beneath the temple door, 
 the stream of Mosaic law has poured its heal- 
 ing and life-giving flood through every civi- 
 
54 HtfrMano ff>rt3e ©ration 
 
 lized land; and is destined to bless the whole 
 world. 
 
 The Mosaic legislation bears throughout, the 
 impress of its great giver. He was no mere 
 mouthpiece or echo, but the mould into which 
 the divine truth was poured. Deep in wisdom; 
 lofty in aspiration; and strong in character, he 
 used his God-given powers — and used them 
 well. 
 
 During his enforced exile among the moun- 
 tains of Midian, he was unconsciously being 
 fitted for his life's work. Here he learned the 
 great lessons of trust and patience. Yet, as he 
 mused the fire burned; and the flame of 
 Horeb's bush was equaled by the flame of love 
 and zeal which burned in his heart until the 
 close of his life of self-renunciation and denial. 
 His name and personality do not lessen as the 
 centuries creep by; and we may well say of 
 him as has been said of Lincoln : "The hills 
 sink as we leave them; the mountains rise." 
 
 The Hebrews had come from the very home 
 of idolatry and immorality; from a nation long 
 civilized and long sensualized; from a people 
 as " grey in the arts of vice, as they were in 
 the arts of life." They erected lofty obelisks; 
 and adored serpents; they built pyramids; and 
 worshiped cats. 
 
 To free his people from the gross and idola- 
 trous ideas of Egypt, was one of Moses' great- 
 est difficulties. They were like great children. 
 
IXbe /Ifcosaic 3Law 55 
 
 They must have something tangible in their 
 worship; something for their senses to feed 
 upon. 
 
 To meet this demand, we find a system of 
 ritualism , scarcely equaled in history. The 
 Hebrew love for splendor and mysticism was 
 gratified by splendid ceremonials, perpetual 
 sacrifices, and frequent feasts. While in the 
 wilderness, there was constantly before their 
 eyes the bright glory of the Shekinah; and the 
 gorgeous display of the tabernacle. 
 
 The Hebrew religion was one of the present 
 life, and so in direct contrast to that of Egypt. 
 It was a matter of present reward and punish- 
 ment; for to those rude children of the brick- 
 yard and the desert, the future was hidden by 
 the present. If they should be obedient they 
 would prosper in freedom and peace. If they 
 turned their backs upon God, he would send 
 upon them famine and pestilence and sword. 
 It was not a lofty appeal, but it was the high- 
 est they could understand. 
 
 Second in importance only to the law itself 
 was the manner in which it was given. The 
 display of God's power and grandeur at Sinai 
 was never forgotten. Here was kindled the 
 poetic genius and imagination of the Hebrew 
 people. At Sinai, the principle of the dignity 
 and importance of the individual was first an- 
 nounced, and was even a condition of the cov- 
 enant oath. Here the stamp of nobility was 
 
56 ftitftland 1P113C ©ration 
 
 placed on labor, which dignified it until the 
 Master crowned it by his toil at his father's 
 bench. They had come to Sinai trembling, 
 but turbulent, slaves; they departed, a nation 
 of priests, a people of God, his peculiar treas- 
 ure and care. 
 
 Though theocratic in form the Hebrew pol- 
 ity was democratic in spirit. The assembly of 
 the people chose the magistrates, and adopted 
 the constitution. Freedom first spoke with 
 certain voice from Sinai's summit; and there 
 was formed the first great republic. 
 
 Much has been said about the severity of the 
 Mosaic law. But we must keep in mind the time 
 and condition under which the law was enacted. 
 Given a wilderness and a host of escaped slaves, 
 and it is readily seen that only strict martial 
 law could have any effect. Moses was not a 
 visionary theorist legislating for an ideal state; 
 but with an insight that was foresight, he saw 
 the needs of the time and met them well. 
 
 The law was not perfect any more than 
 Moses was perfect. There were many things 
 in it, which, judged by modern standards, 
 seem crude, cruel, and useless. But we must 
 remember that an enforced law can never be 
 greatly above the popular will and sentiment. 
 God does nothing in a hurry. But, " without 
 haste and without rest," he works out his 
 plans for man's development and perfection. 
 True Judaism lived for Christianity, and died 
 
£be /Hbosaic Xaw 57 
 
 at the birth of it. The shell of the ceremonial 
 and symbolic fell away when the precious fruit 
 was ripe. 
 
 Moses was but the pioneer of Christ. He 
 was at once a prophecy and a portent. As the 
 light from Moses paled and sank; and as the 
 shadows lengthened over the national life of 
 the Jews, those same shadows pointed toward 
 the east where soon the more glorious Son of 
 Righteousness was to arise and shine upon a 
 waiting world. The religion of type and 
 shadow gave way to one of substance and 
 reality. That which was negative and incom- 
 plete in the Old Testament became positive 
 and perfect in the New. The law was a stern 
 schoolmaster; but it led us to Christ; and the 
 Decalogue bore as its perfect fruit the Sermon 
 on the Mount. It was a glorious ending to a 
 great beginning. 
 
 Long after the pyramids of Egypt shall have 
 crumbled to dust, the name and work of the 
 great law-giver and leader of the Hebrews, will 
 thunder down through the ages, filling all the 
 earth with their greatness and glory. As 
 Heine well puts it, " Moses erected human 
 pyramids." Horace could boast, "I have 
 erected a monument more enduring than brass." 
 But Moses erected a monument for time and 
 eternity. 
 
 As we study this great law we constantly 
 discover new beauties and virtues. We are 
 
58 IkirMano Pri3e ©ration 
 
 thrilled by the same spirit which filled the 
 soul of the poet-king of Israel, upon whose 
 life had fallen both the shadow from Mount 
 Ebal, and the light from Gerizim; and with him 
 we are led to exclaim: "Open thou mine 
 eyes that I may behold wondrous things out of 
 thy law." 
 
Soper prise £besis 
 
 THE TARIFF QUESTION IN AMERICA 
 DOWN TO 1846 
 
 BY CHARLES GIDEON EMPIE, '98 
 
 The tariff question has ever been an impor- 
 tant and engrossing one in American history. 
 It has been inseparably bound up with our so- 
 cial and economic progress. Though the sub- 
 ject is so important today, to our forefathers it 
 was still more vital; for to them it was a matter 
 concerning financial integrity, and national exist- 
 ence, and honor. 
 
 The tariff question is older than the Constitu- 
 tion. The various colonies, while yet under 
 British rule, had their own tariff rules and rates. 
 There was no uniformity or general system, 
 "but each for itself as against the others." 
 British subjects paid but two and one-half per 
 cent., while foreigners paid five per cent. The 
 duties were both specific and ad valorem. In 
 the South there was an export duty on tobacco, 
 and an import duty on slaves ; while throughout 
 the colonies import duties were laid on sugar, 
 molasses, liquors, wines, and dyes. 
 
 This colonial tariff, however, was simply for 
 
6o Soper IPrise ftbesis 
 
 revenue; and had no direct influence upon later 
 tariff legislation. It ceased upon the outbreak 
 of hostilities with England. So for several 
 years we had no import laws; and, in fact, 
 needed none, for during the struggle for inde- 
 pendence our foreign trade well-nigh ceased. 
 Also, there was a strong feeling against any re- 
 straint on commerce, as savoring of British mis- 
 rule and tyranny. 
 
 In 1776, Adam Smith published his Wealth of 
 Nations. This book, together with the Declaration 
 of Independence, marked a new era in political 
 and economic science; a revolt against the old- 
 time mercantile system of political economy. 
 Men began to doubt if one nation's is another's 
 gain ; if but one party could be the gainer by ex- 
 change; whether the possession of money was 
 the great object of trade; and if this alone con- 
 stituted true wealth. 
 
 The British treatment of the colonies was due 
 to these old-time views. The colony should be 
 the feeder of the mother country. This had 
 been the purpose of the colony and this should 
 be its end. So the "colonial system" was en- 
 forced and the rights of the colonies ignored. 
 We were to be kept an agricultural people ; and 
 so, dependent upon Great Britain for all manu- 
 factured articles, she sold to us at her own price. 
 To manufacture necessary articles for ourselves 
 was a serious and finable offence. Parliament 
 declared a hat factory a nuisance; nor could hats 
 be exported from one colony to another. 
 
Gbe tariff Question 61 
 
 Officers were sent over to see that no mills or 
 factories were operated or built. England's policy 
 was summed up in the declaration of Lord Chat- 
 ham that he would not permit the colonies to make 
 as much as a hobnail, or a horseshoe for them- 
 selves. In 1765, the emigration of skilled labor- 
 ers to this country was forbidden; and later 
 laws were passed forbidding the exportation of 
 cotton, woolen, and steel-making machinery. 
 
 During the colonial period, a brisk and profit- 
 able trade had sprung up with the West Indies. 
 The Revolution brought this trade to a close, as 
 well as our commerce with Europe. There were 
 no foreign markets for our agricultural products ; 
 and from sheer necessity, the colonies began to 
 manufacture articles necessary for peace and for 
 war. The importing of goods from England 
 was forbidden and Congress urged upon the col- 
 onies the need of manufacturing industries. 
 Bounties were offered for the manufacture of 
 munitions of war and upon clothing. Home- 
 spun became fashionable. Iron was made and 
 was formed into various utensils. 
 
 But no sooner had hostilities ceased than the 
 tide of English goods set to our shores. British 
 productions of excellent quality and at low price 
 glutted our markets. As a result, ruin threat- 
 ened our new industries, while our coin poured 
 steadily into British coffers. Specie was abun- 
 dant, for great quantities had been sent over 
 from England and France, to support the army 
 and navy during the war. So trade was brisk ; we 
 
62 Soper pr(3e Gbesis 
 
 bought more than we could sell or exchange, 
 and soon we were almost without coin or credit. 
 During 1784 - 1790 inclusive, the excess of im- 
 ports over exports was over $50,000,000. 
 
 England had no intention of losing her grip up- 
 on the colonies, or of abandoning her old policy. 
 It was now a battle of industries ; and it was 
 fought no less rigorously because the yardstick 
 had taken the place of the sword. What could 
 not be done by power of arms should be done 
 by the ''tyrannous power of capital." Nearly a 
 quarter of a century passed before we proved 
 victorious, and became as free in fact as we 
 were in name. 
 
 Commercially we were worse off than before 
 the war; for by the " Orders in Council " in 1783 
 we lost the West Indian trade. Here again was 
 seen the short-sighted policy of England ; for by 
 turning the colonial energies to home production 
 and development, she caused the rapid growth 
 of manufacturing interests, the very thing she 
 wished to prevent. 
 
 War debts, difficulty in collecting direct taxes, 
 and need of revenue, forced most of the States 
 to reimpose taxes on imports. But, as before, 
 there was no uniformity or concert in their action. 
 Rivalry and jealousy were strong. The bond 
 of a common danger was removed ; and a de- 
 structive and suicidal course followed. Each 
 State sought to fix its duties so as to draw to it- 
 self the commerce of foreign nations ; as a result 
 none prospered. 
 
£be {Tariff Question 63 
 
 The central government was weak ; and an 
 object of contempt at home and abroad. 
 Congress could "declare everything and do 
 nothing." In vain had Congress asked the States 
 for power to levy a uniform impost of five per 
 cent, to pay the national debt. Nor would the 
 States levy such an impost themselves. They 
 would not even permit Congress to pass laws 
 discriminating against such nations as would not 
 form commercial treaties with us. The nation 
 seemed to have passed through the dangers of 
 war, only to fall a prey to internal dissension and 
 financial ruin. Everywhere arose the demand 
 for a stronger central government, which 
 should have power to levy taxes and to regulate 
 commerce. From every port of the country 
 arose the cry for proper restriction of foreign 
 competition in behalf of our newly developed in- 
 dustries. 
 
 Our early industries did not have the confi- 
 dence of the people. Trade had to be diverted 
 from English channels, workingmen had to be 
 trained, and improved machinery had to be pro- 
 cured or made. This was not an easy matter 
 for capital was not so easily diverted as it is to- 
 day. People were more conservative and had 
 not that confidence which comes with experi- 
 ence and success. 
 
 Nearly all the " Fathers of the Republic " were 
 in favor of free commerce. They had looked 
 to the ideal rather than to the real and present. As 
 Madison said, "A perfect freedom is the system 
 
t>4 Soper pri3e Gbests 
 
 which would be my choice. But before such 
 a system would be eligible, perhaps, for the 
 United States, they must be out of debt ; before 
 it will be attainable, all other nations must concur 
 in it." This was the common idea. They neither 
 thought it possible nor desirable that we should 
 become a great manufacturing people for many 
 years. We were to furnish raw material to Europe 
 in exchange for manufactured products. Again, 
 New England's commercial interests would be 
 favored by free trade, while England was sup- 
 posed to stand ready to unite with us, in form- 
 ing such an unrestricted system of exchange. 
 
 The dream was soon rudely dispelled. Our 
 statesmen began to understand that "a con- 
 dition, not a theory. " confronted them ; that, 
 as Frederick List puts it, "The best book on 
 political economy in this new country is the 
 volume of life." The narrow and grasping poli- 
 cy was soon evident ; and Adams, Madison, 
 and Jefferson were soon foremost in urging re- 
 taliatory and restrictive measures. 
 
 Hamilton, with keener insight and surer 
 knowledge, had early declared in favor of pro- 
 tection to our industries. He maintained that 
 manufactures were both possible and desirable ; 
 and urged restrictive measures, not so much for 
 retaliation as for the encouragement of home in- 
 dustries. Thus for one reason or another, our 
 early leaders were, by 1785, unitedly in favor of 
 a uniform restriction of foreign commerce. 
 
 State needs were finally overcoming State jeal- 
 
Gbe {Tariff Question 6? 
 
 ousies. Then, too, a spirit of nationality ; a feel- 
 ing of common interest was beginning to be felt. 
 Men began to see the possibility of a broader de- 
 velopment ; and that our industries might easily 
 be strengthened and made permanent. The in- 
 tolerable condition of internal commerce led to 
 the conference of States, in 1786, at Annapolis. 
 The object of this convention was "To consider 
 how far a uniform system in their commercial 
 relations" might "be necessary to their com- 
 mon interests." It was seen that only by a com- 
 plete revision of the Articles of Confederation 
 could any adequate relief be afforded. There- 
 fore, a recommendation was made by the con- 
 vention to Congress, that another convention be 
 called for that purpose. Congress could resist no 
 longer, and resolved to call a convention which 
 should revise the Articles of Confederation and 
 make such alterations and provisions as "should 
 make the federal government equal to the exigen- 
 cies of government and the preservation of the 
 Union." The convention met at Philadelphia 
 the following year; and our present Constitution 
 was the result. Thus the desire for internal har- 
 mony and for commercial restriction, for the 
 purpose of revenue and protection, brought 
 about the framing and adopting of the Constitu- 
 tion. As Daniel Webster said in his speech at 
 Buffalo, in 1833, "The protection of American 
 labor against the injurious competition of foreign 
 labor, so far at least as respects general handi- 
 craft productions, is known historically to have 
 
66 Soper ff>ri3e Zhceis 
 
 been one designed to be obtained by establishing 
 the Constitution." 
 
 No sooner had Congress met in 1789, under 
 the new Constitution than the question of Ways 
 and Means was introduced as the most pertinent 
 and pressing subject to be considered. Revenue 
 was necessary both to meet the expenses of the 
 government, and to pay the principal and interest 
 of the rapidly maturing national debts. Those 
 must be met, or our national honor and integrity 
 would be gone forever. 
 
 There was little or no thought as to direct tax- 
 ation. This, the jealousy of the States towards 
 the government made well-nigh impossible. Be- 
 sides, if the Union was to endure it must press 
 but lightly upon the people. For the same rea- 
 son internal revenue was not thought an advisable 
 means of raising funds. Therefore "taxation 
 followed the line of least resistance " ; and cus- 
 tom duties were decided to be the best means of 
 raising revenue. This was the European meth- 
 od ; and it had in its favor that indirectness 
 which caused it to be little felt. 
 
 Another motive for adopting this system was 
 the spirit of nationality, which was so necessary 
 to our true development. By means of a tariff 
 on imports, and by the use of domestic products, 
 it was hoped to weld the States into a strong 
 Union. Home markets and home industries 
 were to draw the States by bonds of mutal de- 
 pendence and advantage. No more could we be 
 called "a nation without a national govern- 
 
Gbe tariff Question 07 
 
 ment. " Thus our protective system was the 
 result of a strong political purpose ; combined 
 with the manufacturing and trade interests of 
 the nation. Sectional interest was to give way 
 to national interest ; and all were to reap the 
 advantages gained by common concessions. 
 
 No sooner had Congress assembled than the 
 petitions began to pour in from the North and 
 South, alike, asking Congress, by proper legisla- 
 tion, to protect the country in its new manufact- 
 uring industries ; and to encourage the rise of 
 still others. The tariff had not yet entered pol- 
 itics ; so there was little prejudice felt ; while, 
 in addition, the South thought a development of 
 manufacturing interests would furnish a market 
 in the North for their new materials. 
 
 The nation was passing from the agricultural 
 stage to the manufacturing stage ; and the war 
 with England had hastened the change. In 1789 
 it was estimated that nine-tenths of the popula- 
 tion were engaged in agricultural pursuits. But 
 our population was becoming more dense, and 
 labor more abundant, and so more easily diverted 
 into new channels. Also the injury we had 
 suffered in the Revolution from the lack of nec- 
 essary war supplies and munitions had aroused 
 a strong sentiment in favor of more diversified 
 industry and production. It was felt that the 
 three great industries, v/ithin the state, agricult- 
 ure, manufactures, and commerce, should be 
 in a balanced development in order to secure 
 proper growth and stability as a nation. That 
 
68 Sopec lPriK Cbesi* 
 
 the farmer and the artisan should be near each 
 other. That agriculture and manufactures were 
 each necessary to the other. 
 
 To bring about this proper harmony and bal- 
 ance in our industral life ; to adjust popular pro- 
 duction to national demands, was and is one of 
 the great purposes of our protective policy. 
 Prof. Thompson well defines protection as "The 
 policy of a nation that believes in its own unde- 
 veloped resources and looks to the future." It 
 aims to equalize conditions to our own pro- 
 ducers ; to develop such industries as will se- 
 cure to us industrial and commerical independ- 
 ence. 
 
 Abnormal development should no more be 
 sought by a nation than by the individual. It is 
 the "all around development" which gives vi- 
 tality and health to a man or to a nation. As the 
 old adage goes, "It is a foolish man who puts 
 all his eggs into a single basket." Free com- 
 petition has an enticing sound. But true com- 
 petition can exist only between rivals approxi- 
 mately equal. A fully developed industry in one 
 nation, may easily destroy a similar " infant in- 
 dustry " in another, unless prevented, even 
 though the younger would have the greater 
 power when grown. Such was the condition 
 of our manufacturing interests immediately after 
 the war with England. There must be aid at 
 once or our rising industries must yield to the 
 superior capital, experience, and skill, of English 
 manufactures, which were aided by the improved 
 
£be Garitf (Question 69 
 
 machinery and cheap labor of that nation. 
 
 The first tariff bill was introduced by Mr. 
 Madison ; and was the first measure discussed 
 by the first Congress. It was merely for revenue; 
 and was to be a temporary affair, lasting only 
 until a more comprehensive system could be 
 arranged. During the discussion, Mr. Fitzsim- 
 mons of Pennsylvania moved that thebill be so 
 modified as "To encourage the productions of 
 our country and to protect our infant industries." 
 
 This caused a long discussion. Massachu- 
 setts wanted a duty on rum. Pennsylvania 
 wanted a duty on steel. But to this the agri- 
 cultural South objected ; and in turn, asked for a 
 duty on hemp. To this the manufacturing and 
 shipping interests of the North objected. Finally 
 a compromise was effected. The manufacturing 
 and shipping interests yielded to the agricultural, 
 since the latter had submitted to be taxed for the 
 promotion of manufactures. 
 
 The law as finally approved was very simple. 
 There was a list of specific duties, and five classes 
 of goods imposed with ad valorem rates. A 
 short free list was added, which included wool, 
 cotton, dyes, copper, and furs. All articles not 
 mentioned were to receive a duty of 5 per cent. 
 ad valorem ; while the highest ad valorem duty 
 was 15 per cent. Provision was made for the 
 repayment of all duties upon goods exported 
 again within a year. A discrimination of 10 per 
 cent, was also made in favor of commodities im- 
 ported in vessels built and owned by citizens of 
 
70 Soper prise Gbesis 
 
 the United States. To others, advantages were 
 equal. The rates were very low, the average 
 duty being equivalent to 8 1-2 per cent, ad va- 
 lorem. Neither woolen, iron, nor cotton manu- 
 factures were protected; and in consequence, the 
 Hartford woolen mill, which supplied General 
 Washington with his inaugural suit, was sold out 
 by the sheriff, during his second administration. 
 
 As this act formed the very foundation of our 
 tariff system, it was of great importance. At 
 that time there was no question as to the right 
 of Congress to impose protective duties. The 
 States no longer possessed such powers and if 
 Congress did not have it, then it did not exist. 
 Congress had power " (1) to regulate commerce ; 
 (2) to provide for the general welfare." And 
 our forefathers believed they were working to 
 these ends, when they framed and passed the 
 tariff of 1789. The " Fathers of the Constitu- 
 tion " were also the framers and advocates of 
 the tariff, and surely must have known their legit- 
 imate powers and acted within them. The law 
 was plainly a protective measure and the pre- 
 amble read, "Whereas it is necessary for the 
 support of the government, for the discharge of 
 the debts of United States, and the encour- 
 agement of the protection of manufactures, that 
 duties be levied on goods, wares, and merchan- 
 dise imported." Certainly this has no "uncer- 
 tain sound." 
 
 As yet our manufactures were not extensive 
 or important. They were mostly of a simple 
 
Gbe XEarftt Question 71 
 
 nature ; for neither skill nor capital was suffi- 
 cient for advanced manufactures. Shipbuilding, 
 however, was an important industry ; and many 
 ships were exported to Europe each year. 
 Before the Revolution, one-third of British ship- 
 ping was of American construction. 
 
 Next to agriculture, commerce was the lead- 
 ing occupation. But, after 1783, owing to the 
 "Orders in Council" and other British restrictions, 
 our commerce suffered ; and in the case of the 
 West Indian trade, nearly ceased. Gradually, 
 the capital invested in shipping interests was 
 transferred to manufacturing interests, and in 
 bringing this about, the tariff of 1789 played no 
 mean part. Yet no marked change occurred un- 
 til 1808 when our commerce almost ceased and 
 our manufactures rapidly increased. 
 
 The revenue from the tariff of 1789 proving 
 insufficient, the rates were slightly raised in 1790. 
 Again in 1792, in accordance with the desires 
 and plans of Hamilton, as expressed in his 
 famous "Report on Manufactures," there was 
 a further increase of duties. 
 
 The "Report on Manufactures" contained 
 the earliest and dearest formulation of protective 
 principles ever given in our legislative history. 
 Ever since it has been the arsenal for arguments 
 in favor of protection. It had been prepared in 
 accordance with a resolution of the House of 
 Representatives that Hamilton draw up and 
 report a plan "for the encouragement and pro- 
 motion of such ' manufactures as will tend to 
 
12 Soper lprt3e Gbesis 
 
 render the United States independent of other 
 nations, for essential, particularly military sup- 
 plies." In it he argued for a home market ; for 
 diversification of industries ; and for industrial 
 independence. He declared import duties to be a 
 proper means of encouraging our manufactures ; 
 and also suggested bounties, premiums, exemp- 
 tions of raw materials from duty, and drawbacks 
 as further means of encouragement. He declared 
 that emigration would be increased by the build- 
 ing up of manufactures ; and that a steady de- 
 mand for native products would be established 
 in domestic markets. He did not ignore or 
 undervalue the importance of agriculture and 
 commerce, but emphasized the importance and 
 advantage of manufactures, and answered the 
 pleas brought against their establishment. 
 Never did the " let alone " policy receive a more 
 vigorous criticism ; and never did the great prin- 
 ciples of protection receive more earnest approv- 
 al, than from the pen of this great statesman and 
 financier, who "with an insight that was fore- 
 sight " saw the present and future needs and 
 possibilities of his country. None knew better 
 than he that our struggle for national existence 
 had now become one for national prosperity 
 and permanence. He clearly realized that the 
 temple of our national industry would soon 
 totter to its fall if the pillar of manufactures were 
 removed. 
 
 The immediate effect of this report was not 
 great. But the good seed was not lost. From 
 
Zbz tariff Question 73 
 
 it sprung the protectionist policy and the so- 
 called "American system" of Clay. This re- 
 port completed the financial policy of Hamilton 
 which had so successfully carried us through 
 the perilous times of our early history ; and 
 which secured to us our national honor and exist- 
 ence, by enabling us to pay our honest debts. 
 The slow advance of manufactures, prior to 
 1808 was largely due to the influence of the 
 European wars. To us as the principal neutral 
 power, fell the carrying trade of Europe. Also a 
 ready and profitable market was furnished for all 
 our agricultural products. In return, we re- 
 ceived large quantities of manufactured goods at 
 low prices. So there was little inducement to 
 produce such articles at home. Still, there was 
 a constant, though slow, increase in our manu- 
 factures ; and from time to time, a slight advance 
 was made in the tariff rates, as more revenue 
 or protection was needed. In addition, a direct 
 tax, and an internal revenue tax on spirits were 
 laid. But these proved so unpopular that they 
 were repealed under Jefferson, in 1802. Be- 
 tween 1789 and 18 12 thirteen tariff laws were 
 passed, which, in general, increased both duties 
 and the number of dutiable articles. Yet, with 
 the possible exception of salt, no imported 
 article was thought too heavily taxed. It was no 
 longer a mere question of dollars and cents; it 
 was a matter of patriotism, of nationalism, and 
 also of retaliation against Great Britain. Our 
 specie was no longer abundant ; or our credit 
 
74 Sopet iprijc Cbeste 
 
 good. People were ashamed of their folly and 
 extravagance in buying such quantities of Eng- 
 lish goods directly after the war. The policy of 
 protection was fast becoming a settled thing. 
 There was little discussion about it ; for it was 
 an accepted fact. People began to see and ap- 
 preciate the fact that the foreign manufacturer 
 did not want their produce, either raw material 
 or provision ; while the home manufacturer 
 wanted both. 
 
 Meanwhile our commerce was involving us in 
 difficulties. England saw with concern and even 
 alarm, that we bid fair to become the chief com- 
 mercial power of the world. This was to be 
 prevented at any cost. Nor were we to be al- 
 lowed to remain neutral in the great struggle 
 of Europe. England and France in their efforts 
 to injure each other, sought to destroy our com- 
 merce, and well-nigh succeeded. Acts were 
 passed which were a gross violation of interna- 
 tional laws. 
 
 In 1805 an act was passed by Congress pro- 
 hibiting the importation of British manufactures. 
 This was done to force England to cease her 
 impressment outrages against our seamen. In 
 1808 the Embargo Act was laid by Congress 
 upon American vessels, to meet the Berlin and 
 Milan decrees of Napoleon ; and the English 
 "Orders in Council," which had virtually closed 
 to us all European ports. The embargo was un- 
 popular ; and was followed in 1809 by the Non- 
 intercourse Act, which applied only to England 
 
XLbe tariff (Question 75 
 
 and France. This action of Congress was like 
 " cutting off a leg to cure a corn." By it our 
 farmers were nearly ruined, and our commerce 
 crippled. England suffered much but we suf- 
 fered more. Capital also was diverted into new 
 channels, notably manufactures. This, though a 
 good thing in itself, was too hostilely done and 
 at a great loss of harmony and capital. 
 
 Those acts, together with the war which fol- 
 lowed, furnished almost complete protection to 
 our industries. Soon after war was declared, a 
 law was passed by which all duties were doub- 
 led and English imports prohibited. We were 
 sadly in need of revenue and of war supplies, 
 and it was hoped by this increase of duty to en- 
 courage the growth of manufactures. In this 
 particular, the hopes of Congress were realized ; 
 but the increase of duty brought no increase of 
 revenue. Our commerce fell rapidly away, 
 and from sheer necessity, manufacturing soon 
 became a leading industry. The nation began 
 to realize its latent powers and abilities. Estab- 
 lishments for the manufacture of cottons and 
 woolens, of iron, glass, pottery, and like articles 
 sprang up everywhere. For it was not only a 
 matter of need and of profit but also of patriot- 
 ism. Again England had overreached herself in 
 her selfish greed, and we were forced to become 
 self-reliant and self-sufficient. We learned how 
 to make our own machinery, and how to use 
 it ; and England's laws forbidding the exporting 
 of textile machinery but aided the growth of 
 
76 Sopec C>ri3e Gbesis 
 
 our manufactures. In 1810, 10,000 bales of cot- 
 ton were manufactured in the United States. 
 Five years later, 90,000 bales were used; and 
 cotton began to be a power in shaping our pol- 
 icy and legislation. The capital invested in cot- 
 ton and woolen manufactures in 181 5 was near- 
 ly $50,000,000. Nor were our iron industries 
 far behind ; for but 3,000 tons of iron in manu- 
 factures were needed from abroad. Our glass 
 also rivaled that of Europe in price and quality. 
 
 In May, 181 5, all discriminating duties and ton- 
 nage taxes were repealed in favor of any nation 
 which should take similar action in regard to 
 our vessels and productions. Here was an early 
 act of reciprocity only preceded by the one of 
 1778 with France. 
 
 No sooner was peace declared than the pent 
 up stream of English goods poured into our 
 markets. England did not intend to give up 
 her American markets without a struggle. 
 Soon the imports were out of all proportion to 
 the exports or the needs of the country. Even 
 the war duties could not stay the flood. The 
 policy of England was summed up by Lord 
 Brougham when he said, "It is well worth 
 while to incur a loss upon the first exportation, 
 in order by the glut to stifle in the cradle those 
 arising manufactures in the United States which 
 the war has forced into existence." It would 
 not be true to ascribe to this one motive the 
 great exportation of English goods to this coun- 
 try, for the English manufactures in order to 
 
ilbe tlariff Question 77 
 
 meet their obligations to continue their produc- 
 tions, must sell at almost any price. 
 
 The cry for protection to our new industries 
 went up over the whole land ; and it was 
 heard. The lessons of the late war were not 
 forgotten. During the war we had neither 
 been able to purchase nor to sell, and the folly 
 of depending on foreign markets and supplies 
 was plain to the dullest mind. " Home produc- 
 tion and home consumption" became the watch- 
 word of the nation. Not only was protection 
 demanded for manufactures, but from the Western 
 States came a call for the protection of their 
 newly developed flax and hemp industries. 
 The Southern States also began to realize the 
 importance of a home market for their rapidly 
 increasing cotton output, which the invention 
 of the cotton gin had made both possible and 
 profitable. 
 
 In December, 18 16, Secretary of the Treasury 
 Dallos reported to Congress in favor of protec- 
 tive duties ; and soon the tariff bill of 1816 was 
 reported by Mr. Lowndes of South Carolina. 
 As Mr. Calhoun, representing the cotton interest, 
 also strongly favored the measure, it was called 
 a Southern bill. Though intended for a protec- 
 tive tariff, it failed to protect our industries as was 
 hoped ; and so the effect was almost that of a 
 free trade tariff. The bill aroused much discus- 
 sion. Mr. Clay appeared for the first time as the 
 advocate of " a thorough and decided protection 
 to home manufactures by ample duties." But 
 
78 Soper Pri3e tlbcsis 
 
 his friend, Mr. Ingham of Pennsylvania, de- 
 clared the aim was mainly protection, and 
 revenue but incidental. The opposition came 
 mainly from Mr. Webster, who represented the 
 commercial interest of New England ; and from 
 Mr. Randolph of Virginia, who now began the 
 cry of sectional legislation. 
 
 The bill passed by a large majority. It was to 
 be a temporary measure. The average rate of 
 duties was sixteen per cent, ad valorem. Duties 
 virtually prohibitory were imposed on foreign 
 articles, of which a domestic supply could be 
 readily produced. A duty of twenty per cent, 
 was laid on those articles which could not be 
 entirely supplied at home ; while on articles of 
 consumption chiefly produced abroad the duties 
 were so arranged as to raise the greatest income. 
 There was no increase of duty upon articles 
 charged with specific. 
 
 Perhaps the best feature of the bill was the 
 "minimum principle." Under it we soon made 
 cheaper and better cottons than India had sup- 
 plied before. The minimum principle provided 
 that no duty on cottons or woolens should be 
 less than 6 1-4 cents per yard. The effect was 
 almost a prohibition of cheap cloths; and, natu- 
 rally, this feature of the bill was opposed by 
 commercial New England. The purpose and 
 policy of the measure was given by Jefferson 
 when he said, "We must now place the manu- 
 facturer by the side of the agriculturalist." Also 
 the argument of possible future war had great 
 
Gbe {Tariff Question 79 
 
 force, and was strongly urged by Mr. Calhoun. 
 No decided change was produced by the 
 tariff of 1 8 16. For some time our markets were 
 glutted with English goods, sold by auction at 
 or near cost price in England. Our war debt 
 was heavy; European harvests were plenty; 
 and the English corn laws had begun to have 
 their effect. Prices fell rapidly; and in 18 19, 
 there was a financial crisis, largely due to the 
 collapse of the paper currency system. The 
 iron and hemp industries were nearly crushed by 
 British competition; also the woolen interests 
 of the country suffered greatly. Therefore an 
 increased duty was laid in 1818, on iron and 
 copper, and on cotton and woolen goods. An- 
 other bill providing for general increase of 
 duties was brought forward in 1820, and lacked 
 but a single vote of passing. 
 
 Another attempt in 1824 was more success- 
 ful. New England had accepted the inevitable; 
 and was gradually increasing its manufacturing 
 interests. The Western vote was strongly in 
 favor of protection; but a change had come 
 over the South, and its vote was almost unani- 
 mously opposed to the tariff bill of 1824. How- 
 ever, the combined and Western States, aided by 
 a part of New England, gave the necessary 
 majority. 
 
 This was the first distinctively and strongly 
 protective tariff. Henry Clay declared the object 
 of the bill was "to create a home market and 
 to lay the foundation of a genuine American 
 
So Sopec pnjic Sbesfs 
 
 policy. " The average rate of duties was nearly 
 
 38 per cent, ad valorem. By its provisions, 
 duties were increased on metals like iron and 
 lead: and on agricultural products like wool and 
 hemp. Little change was made in duties on 
 cotton and woolen goods. Cotton had been 
 fixed at 25 per cent, by the bill of 1816; and 
 this was still thought sufficient, so no change w as 
 made. The worst detect of the law of 1824 
 was in regard to wool and woolens. The in- 
 tention was to encourage both the growth of 
 wool, and also woolen manufactures. But 
 the duty on wool was too high in proportion to 
 the duty on woolen goods. So the demand for 
 wool fell off. since the manufacturers could not 
 engage in the business with profit, owing to the 
 high price of wool. To this disadvantage was 
 added the large importation of foreign woolens, 
 which for want of a regular market, were dis- 
 posed of by the auction sales so prevalent at this 
 time and which had so greatly injured our home 
 manufactures. 
 
 The free trade opposition first became organ- 
 ized during the discussion of this law of 1824. 
 The South and North no longer saw their inter- 
 ests to be in common, and the South lent a ready 
 ear to English arguments and promises, which 
 aimed at the securing of the coveted Southern 
 cotton and Southern markets. The improve- 
 ment in the quality of Southern cotton, had led 
 England to remove all discriminations against its 
 importation. So the South was no longer de- 
 
£be CaritE Question 81 
 
 pendent upon Northern markets. The South 
 had hoped to manufacture equally with the North. 
 It was that closeness to cotton supply and cheap 
 slave labor which made this possible. But the 
 slave was found unfitted and incompetent; nor 
 would the poor whites work while slavery lasted. 
 So the Southern States were obliged to remain 
 agricultural. 
 
 England h;id now become strong and prosper- 
 ous under her protective system; and now felt 
 no fear of competition. She now discovered that 
 all restrictions between America and herself 
 were either useless or harmful. She could 
 manufacture cheaper than we could. On the 
 other hand we could raise raw materials cheaper 
 than she could hope to. Why should we not do 
 that for which we were best adapted and then 
 exchange productions and receive mutual benefit ? 
 Free trade was in the air; and the South lent a 
 ready ear to those specious pleas, those argu- 
 ments with half the facts left out. 
 
 The opinion began to prevail in the South 
 that the cheap and abundant labor of England 
 could be competed against; that greater prices 
 and returns could be gotten in England than 
 at home. Also that manufactured articles 
 could be obtained cheaper abroad than at home. 
 So Southern votes united to overthrow the policy 
 under which the Union had become great and 
 prosperous. To Southern eyes a penny near by 
 seemed greater than a dollar in the distance. 
 All things were to be reckoned on a financial 
 
S2 Soper TPrise Gbeste 
 
 basis, looking to the present rather than to the 
 future. Then began that union of Southern 
 planter and English manufacturer, which was bro- 
 ken only by the civil war, which at least in part, 
 was brought about by this sad estrangement of 
 Northern and Southern interests. For no sooner 
 did mutual dependence cease, than ceased mutual 
 respect and confidence. 
 
 The law of 1824 did not furnish sufficient pro- 
 tection to some of our most important industries. 
 Therefore in 1827 the friends of protection met 
 at Harrisburg to consider the situation, to get at 
 the facts and to agree to a tariff which should be 
 equal in its benefits and burdens, to all parts of 
 the Union. The convention was made up of 
 farmers and manufacturers, and the woolen 
 interest was well represented and had much in- 
 fluence. A mutual compromise was finally 
 agreed upon, and a tariff arranged, which after- 
 ward came before the people as the tariff of 1828; 
 the so-called "Tariff of abominations." The tariff 
 question had already begun to be a sectional one. 
 It now became a political question as well. 
 
 In the campaign of 1828, both candidates 
 were in favor of protection. But there was 
 some doubt as to Adams' loyalty, while Jackson 
 had ever been a firm supporter of the protective 
 system. Jackson's election not only was a sign 
 of the popular feeling as to protection, but also 
 was a victory of democracy over tradition. 
 
 The tariff of 1828 was the most thoroughly 
 protective measure yet passed. Although much 
 
ftbe tariff Question 83 
 
 opposed and vilified, the financial and industrial 
 effects of the bill were good ; and the years im- 
 mediately following were years of success and 
 progress. The South solidly opposed the bill, 
 while New England largely favored it. Mr. 
 Webster, the former opponent of protection, 
 now voted in its favor. His action was due to 
 the fact of New England's rapid increase in 
 manufactures. Here protection had been the 
 cause; manufactures the result of such legisla- 
 tion. The West favored the bill, in order to obtain 
 a higher duty on wool and hemp. The bill intro- 
 duced the principle that the raw materials of 
 manufactures should be given a high duty. 
 There was a marked advance in the rates on iron, 
 wool, and hemp. Wool was raised from 30 per 
 cent, to 40 percent. ; and hemp was raised from 
 $35 to §60 a ton. This was done in spite of the 
 opposition of Adams' adherents. The bill was 
 called a "complex of compromises." Certainly 
 there were many inconsistencies in the measure; 
 but these came from the efforts of the Southern 
 free-trade members who, by putting in duties out 
 of proper proportion to need, tried to kill 
 Adams, politically, by the bill, and then in turn to 
 kill the bill. It was not thought that New England 
 would vote for the law as it stood. But the 
 general advantage of the bill was such, that it 
 passed in spite of the "abominations" insisted 
 upon by the Southern members. The South 
 had played a dangerous political game and had 
 lost. The bill was truly not helpful to Southern 
 
84 Soper lpvise £besis 
 
 interests ; but this was due to their own 
 action. 
 
 The passage of this bill intensified the feeling 
 already existing in the cotton States. Already 
 the act of 1824 had been denounced as an act 
 of despotism ; now, this measure increased their 
 grievances. Only the hope of favorable action 
 held back the Southern States. The national 
 debt was nearly paid, and there was a surplus 
 in the Treasury. A reduction of the tariff was 
 therefore expected. But Jackson strongly be- 
 lieved in the necessity of national industrial in- 
 dependence ; and so while advising a reduction 
 in duties, in order to decrease the revenue, he 
 still upheld the principle of protection. He de- 
 clared that duties on war necessities should not 
 be reduced; and that all articles which could be 
 produced with advantage at home, should not 
 be subject to such a reduction of tariff rates as to 
 destroy fair competition. Moreover, he declared 
 a protective tariff to be both wise and constitu- 
 tional. He virtually anticipated Clay's "Amer- 
 ican system." It now became evident that the 
 chief reduction would be on teas and coffees and 
 like articles. Great was the disappointment of 
 the South. Violent threats were heard. The 
 bill was declared by South Carolina to be "un- 
 constitutional, oppressive, and unjust." 
 
 In 1830, Mr. Clay submitted a resolution that 
 "existing duties upon articles imported from for- 
 eign countries, and not coming in competition with 
 similar articles made or produced in the United 
 
£be tariff (Question 85 
 
 States, ought to be forthwith abolished, except 
 the duties on wines and silks." A warm de- 
 bate followed; but the matter was not finally de- 
 cided until two years later. 
 
 In January, 1832, Mr. Clay introduced his 
 famous resolution for "making the tariff upon 
 articles coming into competition with home man- 
 ufactures a system of permanent high duties ; and 
 for abolishing, or greatly reducing, the duties upon 
 all other articles." This marked a new era in the 
 tariff history and system. Up to this time, the 
 protection of manufactures had been regarded as 
 a temporary policy. Now it was to become the 
 permanent policy of the nation; the "American 
 system," as Mr. Clay called it in his great speech 
 of explanation and defence. 
 
 As a result of this resolution, two opposing 
 tariff bills were soon introduced. One by Mr. 
 Adams in favor of protection ; the other, by Mr. 
 McDuffie, of South Carolina, which favored a 
 decided reduction in tariff rates. Mr. Adams' 
 measure was adopted. There was to be a slight 
 reduction in the existing tariff, though the prin- 
 ciple of protection still remained in force. It 
 proposed the immediate abolition of the minimum 
 system ; for it had led to constant evasions, un- 
 dervaluations, and disputes. The duty on coarse 
 wools was to be entirely removed. There was 
 also a slight reduction of duties on fine wool 
 and woolen fabrics. Throughout the bill was 
 seen the strong desire of the North to make 
 some concession to the growing opposition of 
 
86 Soper pri3e Gbesfs 
 
 the South. Nearly all those features which the 
 South had called "abominations" were either 
 modified or removed. Already in 1830 the mo- 
 lasses abomination was removed by reducing 
 the duty from ten cents a gallon to five cents. 
 At the same time, duties on tea, coffee, and 
 cocoa were lowered, in order to reduce the 
 revenue. 
 
 The result of the tariff of 1832 was to put 
 the protective system, in the main, where it 
 stood in 1824. The duties on pig and bar iron 
 were made the same as in that year. By the 
 law of 1828 the duty on hemp and flax had been 
 raised to $60 a ton. Now, the duty on hemp 
 was fixed at $40; while flax was put on the free 
 list. Even these concessions did not satisfy the 
 South, for the hated principle of protection was 
 still retained. 
 
 The passing of this bill was immediate pre- 
 text for the nullification of South Carolina. Mr. 
 Calhoun had given, in 1831, his opinion as to 
 State rights ; and now a convention was called 
 in 1832 to consider the late action of Congress. 
 The tariff of 1828 and its amendment of 1832 
 were declared null and void. It was asserted 
 that if any attempt were made to enforce them, 
 South Carolina would separate herself from the 
 Union. President Jackson was firm in his deter- 
 mination to enforce the law; and the future 
 looked dark, when Henry Clay came to the res- 
 cue with his compromise bill of 1833. This 
 provided for a gradual reduction of duties; 
 
Gbe (Tariff (Stuestton 87 
 
 though still retaining the protective system. 
 As Mr. Clay said, the purpose of the bill was 
 twofold. First, to save the principle of protec- 
 tion, and second, to allow South Carolina to 
 withdraw with dignity from her rash position. 
 Calhoun favored the bill ; and it passed by a large 
 majority, though not without much debate 
 and some concessions. It was based on the 
 tariff of 1832. All rates exceeding twenty per 
 cent, ad valorem should be reduced by one-tenth 
 of that excess on the first of January, in each al- 
 ternate year until 1841. Then, one-half of the 
 remaining excess should betaken off; and in the 
 following year, there should be a uniform duty 
 of twenty per cent, on all articles. The free 
 list was also increased; and duties were to be 
 paid in cash. To the friends of protection, this 
 bill came like a bolt from a clear sky. The 
 champion of protection, for the sake of peace 
 and union now set aside the policy so long and 
 ardently cherished. Together with Calhoun, the 
 champion of free trade and "apostle of nullifica- 
 tion," he had brought forth a measure leading to 
 a horizontal tariff, thus striking at the very 
 heart of protection. 
 
 The first object of the measure was attained. 
 South Carolina repealed her nullification ordi- 
 nance; and in general, the tariff was well re- 
 ceived. For Mr. Clay argued, that by this means, 
 he had saved our protected manufactures from 
 worse treatment, at the hands of Congress in the 
 near future. But the trouble was only soothed 
 
88 Sopet Pri3c Gbests 
 
 not settled. Deeper and more potent for mis- 
 chief than any tariff issue, was the question of 
 slavery. The tariff but furnished a pretext for a 
 course of action already thought necessary for 
 the furtherance of the slave system, so essential 
 to their cotton interests. 
 
 For the next ten years but slight changes 
 were made in the tariff rates. The act of 1833 
 was certainly a very crude and unsatisfactory 
 piece of legislation; but it was the best the 
 friends of protection could obtain. It was a 
 "going down the back stairs, instead of being 
 thrown out of the window," as some termed it. 
 There was a loosing down of the protective 
 system, the evil effects of which were to come 
 later. At the time of its passage times were 
 prosperous. Henry Clay declared the seven 
 years following the tariff of 1824 to be the most 
 prosperous of our history. The national debt 
 was extinguished near the close of Jackson's 
 administration. 
 
 But troublous times were in store for the 
 country. Foreign markets were glutted by the 
 abundant crops of Europe; while at home our 
 manufactures were falling away. The revenue 
 had decreased under the act of 1833; and only 
 the income from the public lands kept the gov- 
 ernment in sufficient funds. Soon came the panic 
 of 1837, followed by the bank crash of 1839, 
 with its ensuing ruin and misery. A deranged 
 currency system, and a mania for excessive, and 
 often foolish, internal improvements had wrought 
 
Gbe Garitf (Question 89 
 
 their work. 
 
 Early in Van Buren's administration the rev- 
 enue did not meet expenditures. A demand 
 arose for increased tariff duties, for purposes of 
 revenue and protection. But President Van Buren 
 thought no change could be made until the hori- 
 zontal scale of twenty per cent, was reached. 
 Moreover, the cotton interest was now a strong 
 factor in politics, and almost our greatest indus- 
 try. And to King Cotton, President Van Buren 
 paid humble court. 
 
 When Harrison became President, he found 
 a country impaired, industries well-nigh ruined, 
 and a people impoverished. A special session of 
 Congress was called to revise the tariff so as to 
 increase revenue and aid our industries. Presi- 
 dent Harrison died before Congress could 
 assemble. His successor held to the views of 
 Van Buren, as to the possibility of a new tariff 
 law. Still, revenue must be had, and two tariff 
 bills were passed by Congress; but were vetoed 
 by Tyler, because of an attendant provision for 
 repealing the limitation upon the annual distri- 
 bution of the proceeds arising from the sale of 
 public lands. The limitation was that such dis- 
 tribution should be made only when the tariff 
 rates were not in excess of twenty per cent. A 
 third bill, without the obnoxious provision, was 
 then passed and became the tariff of 1842. 
 
 This was a thoroughly protective measure; and 
 immediate relief followed its passage. The rev- 
 enue from customs duties was nearly doubled. 
 
9o Soper ffi»ri3e ^Ibesis 
 
 Confidence was restored, and our industrial in- 
 terests took on a new life. By this law, further 
 reduction of rates under the compromise of 1833 
 was stopped. A general tariff revision was 
 made with an increase of rates, the tariff of 1833 
 being closely followed. In many cases also ad 
 valorem rates were changed to specific duties. 
 Our cotton consumption was nearly doubled at 
 once. In 1842, we produced a little more than 
 200,000 tons of iron. In four years, under the 
 protective tariff of 1842, our iron production had 
 increased fourfold. 
 
 Even the return of prosperity could not satisfy 
 those opposed to the principle of protection. 
 The agitation against the English corn laws 
 affected our country also. When the corn laws 
 were repealed in 1846, it was thought that the 
 door of prosperity was then opened to us. 
 Western votes, joined to Southern votes, brought 
 about the law of 1846. This was a horizontal 
 tariff; and was passed by a party vote, in open 
 defiance of pledges given by the party then in 
 power, during the Presidential campaign. Many 
 had voted for Polk, thinking they were aiding 
 the cause of national development and industrial 
 independence. They were soon to find out 
 their mistake. Never were " words used to con- 
 ceal ideas " more skilfully than by Mr. Polk in 
 his celebrated "Kane letter" ; while Mr. Dallas, 
 who was an avowed protectionist, and was elected 
 as such, gave his casting vote in the Senate in 
 favor of the free trade measure of 1846. With 
 
Gbe tariff Question 91 
 
 this bill begins a new period in our tariff history. 
 Free trade was now to become the policy of 
 the nation. 
 
 We have given a brief sketch of our tariff 
 history ; and have tried to show the good effects 
 of a protective tariff, in developing our resources 
 and in making us self-reliant and prosperous. 
 Protection has never sought to develop unnatural 
 industries, but has aimed at the production of 
 those articles which are necessary to our prosper- 
 ity. Protection is not a "cure-all," but a "sure 
 specific for the evil of a defective home produc- 
 tion in some line." It is not opposed to com- 
 merce; for in a country as broad and diversified 
 as ours commerce is not restricted to foreign 
 trade. With us inland exchange is most truly 
 commerce. Also, if the " workingman plea " 
 was little used in our early tariff discussions it 
 was because he did not exist, until the protect- 
 ive policy of our forefathers made his existence 
 possible. There has been no shift of ground. 
 That protection has not done more is largely due 
 to the readjustments necessary to progress and 
 to changed industrial conditions. But above all 
 there remains the element of uncertainty, which 
 keeps capital from entering our manufacturing 
 industries, for fear lest a change of party may 
 mean a change of policy. 
 
 Let us hope and work that the tariff question 
 may be taken from mere party politics and that 
 it may become a national matter. In the bright 
 future, perhaps the Golden Rule will be the rule 
 
92 Soper Iprt3e Gbests 
 
 of nations in their commerce. But until then let 
 us protect and sustain our own national interest 
 and integrity. In the words of Speaker Reed, 
 " Nationality is a fact; brotherhood is a hope. 
 Perhaps if we live up to our fact, that may be the 
 best way to arrive at our hope." 
 
Starling pn$e Zbeste 
 
 THE HISTORY OF PAPER CURRENCY 
 DURING THE COLONIAL PERIOD 
 
 BY RALPH SMITH MINOR, '98 
 
 A very natural division of the colonies sepa- 
 rates them into three groups: New England, 
 the Middle Colonies, and the South. In the 
 following history of paper currency during the 
 colonial period this division is assumed and 
 Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, and South Carolina 
 are taken as representative of the group to 
 which each belongs, whlie the other colonies 
 are mentioned as their history gives point to 
 particular features in colonial currency. 
 
 The early colonists and their followers brought 
 some hard money with them but it was not 
 sufficient to furnish them with a medium of ex- 
 change. Accordingly we find New England using 
 corn, cattle, and wampum as currency, while the 
 Southern colonies used tobacco and rice. As 
 they became more prosperous some money came 
 to them through trade with the West Indies, but 
 this was all drawn off by remittances home. 
 They attempted to detain their coin by making its 
 legal value greater than its bullion value, but 
 this attempt failed. "The impossibility of 
 
94 Darling B>rf3e Gbesfs 
 
 maintaining metallic currency in a state of col- 
 onial dependence," says Mr. Bancroft, "was as- 
 sumed as undeniable." 
 
 Yet notwithstanding the scarcity of money 
 and their difficulty in securing a medium of ex- 
 change, the immediate occasion of the first bills 
 of credit in most of the colonies was not the 
 scarcity of money, but rather the fact that they 
 could not wait to colled it. 
 
 In 1690 Massachusetts fitted out an expedition 
 against Canada. It was expected that the booty 
 would pay the expenses of the campaign, but 
 the expedition was a failure and the soldiers 
 having returned home could not be put off until 
 taxes were collected; so ,£7,000 in bills of 
 credit were issued, secured by taxes and rev- 
 enues. The bills were receivable for taxes and 
 were to be reissued as soon as redeemed. 
 
 There was some difficulty in getting these 
 first bills into circulation. They depreciated at 
 first at least a third, although Sir William Phipps 
 tried to keep up their value by exchanging large 
 quantities of coin for them. Measures were 
 soon taken to restore their credit. ^10,000 
 then in the treasury were burned, their issue was 
 limited to ^40,000; while an advance of five per 
 cent, over coin was allowed when received at 
 the treasury in payment of taxes. Thus cared for, 
 their value remained at par for nearly twenty 
 years. 
 
 This was the first of the colonial paper cur- 
 rency. Barter currency ceased for a while, and 
 
Ibistorv? of paper Currency 95 
 
 although paper was now issued from time to 
 time to pay the current expenses of the govern- 
 ment it was soon drawn in by taxes and did not 
 circulate far. Thus we find them forced by the 
 pressure of circumstances to take the first step, 
 but having made the venture it was only natural 
 that they did not desire to return to the inconven- 
 iences of the old method. 
 
 A second expedition against Canada was pro- 
 posed in 1709. New Hampshire, Rhode Island, 
 Connecticut, New York, and New Jersey, all 
 joined with Massachusetts, and their first bills 
 were issued to pay the expenses of this campaign. 
 Massachusetts bore the greater share of the 
 burden, her issues for this purpose amounting to 
 £ so, 000. 
 
 In 1709 the time set for the redemption of 
 the bills had been four years, but in 1710 it was 
 made five years and in 1711, six years. This 
 failure to redeem the bills when due, coupled 
 with the issue of paper money in the other 
 colonies and the increasing prevalence of coun- 
 terfeit bills, no doubt accounts for the depreciation 
 which soon began. The colonists were plainly 
 disappointed at this for they had hoped to main- 
 tain their value by forced legal tender. 
 
 With the beginning of depreciation we find 
 the currency a question of great public interest 
 in Massachusetts. Three parties can be clearly dis- 
 tinguished. There were those whose motto was, 
 zJ^/l utile quod 11011 honestum, and they wanted 
 all paper currency retired; others wanted to see 
 
96 2>arlin<j t>xi$e vlbesi^ 
 
 a private bank based on real estate ; while a 
 third class favored the system of government 
 loan first tried in South Carolina in 17 12. The 
 plan last mentioned was simply a public loan at 
 a low rate of interest, secured by mortgages on 
 property. The interest constituting it was 
 boasted "revenue without taxation." To 
 carry on this loan a loan office was usually 
 established composed of a certain number of 
 trustees whose duty it was to let out the money, 
 take charge of the mortgages, and colled the 
 interest. An issue of bills through the loan 
 office constituted what was called in colonial 
 days "Bank." 
 
 As the contest continued the loan bank party 
 grew in strength. Governor Shute advised that 
 they consider well the fate of the South Carolina 
 bills which had depreciated one-third the first 
 year and one-half the second, yet on account of 
 the heavy debt incurred in the French and Indian 
 war, the low state of trade, and the general 
 complaint of scarcity of money, he allowed ^100- 
 000 to be issued (17 16) on loan. These were 
 for ten years and were secured by mortgages of 
 double value, the interest at five per cent, and 
 one-sixteenth of the principal payable annually. 
 The bills were distributed among the coun- 
 ties who elected trustees to loan it out. 
 
 The cry "more bills" is again heard in 1720. 
 This appeal coming every four or five years 
 shows how an increase in the circulating medium 
 is followed, under the influence of speculation. 
 
•foiston? of paper Currency 97 
 
 by more than proportional rise in prices, it is 
 the paradox of really having less money although 
 the quantity has been doubled. 
 
 Depreciation, the inevitable result of over- 
 issue, was found to bring great suffering to the 
 clergy, widows, and orphans, and all whose 
 salaries were fixed. The common recognition of 
 this evil led to the appointment of commissioners 
 by Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut, 
 who were to see what could be done about the 
 bills of credit. They reported to their several 
 governments, that no more bills should be issued 
 on loan; that the annual issue should be only 
 enough for the uses of the government; and 
 that all bills should be redeemed when due. 
 These reports, however, met with a very cold 
 reception and no action was taken. Further 
 issues were occasionally made, but the five per 
 cent, advance over coin when received for taxes 
 was no longer allowed. 
 
 Royal instructions now forbade the governor 
 to permit further issues and a struggle began 
 between the assembly and the governor which 
 lasted twenty years. 
 
 In 1727 an issue of ,£50,000 is permitted by 
 Governor Dummer, but only with the distinct 
 understanding that it will be used to redeem the 
 issue of 1716. With this issue we note that the 
 interest on the loans is reduced to four per 
 cent. 
 
 The orders from England to the governor to 
 redeem the outstanding bills and to restrict 
 
98 Darling $>ri3e Z bests 
 
 further issues become more imperative. The 
 contest over single measures settles into a 
 standing quarrel. During the time of Governors 
 Burnet and Belcher the struggle was most in- 
 tense. True lo his instructions the governor 
 vetoed all money bills, the assembly retaliated by 
 refusing supplies. Burnet withstood as long as 
 his resources lasted and then granted an issue 
 of ;£ 50,000. A further concession of ,-£76,500 
 was made in 1733 when the year 1741 was set as 
 the terminus for all outstanding bills. Governor 
 Belcher, although he strongly urged the with- 
 drawal of the bills, was compelled to make 
 similar concessions. 
 
 The effect of this restriction of the issue of 
 provincial bills was a flood of bills from the 
 other colonies. Soon there follows the establish- 
 ment of private banks in opposition. 
 
 Rhode Island having made an issue of ,£100,000 
 the merchants of Boston agree not to receive 
 them, and themselves issue £ 110,000 called 
 the "Merchants' Bank." These bills were pay- 
 able in silver one-tenth yearly and were not to be 
 reissued. The Rhode Island bills soon fell to 
 four and one-half and the merchants' notes were 
 hoarded ; an illustration of that fundamental law 
 of money, that only the worst kinds stay in 
 circulation. 
 
 These notes having failed to supply the defi- 
 ciency the "Land Bank" or " Manufactory 
 Scheme" was established in 1739 " in order," 
 says a contemporary, "to redress the existing 
 
IbtetotB of paper Currency 99 
 
 circumstances which the trade of this province suf- 
 fers for lack of a medium. " A large number of land 
 owners formed a company and mortgaged their 
 estates to it for notes of which _£ 150,000 were 
 issued. These had a wide circulation. Three 
 per cent, interest and five per cent, of the 
 principal was to be paid annually in produce. 
 
 The "Specie Bank " or " Silver Scheme " was 
 organized in opposition to the Land Bank. It is- 
 sued jQ 120,000 in notes redeemable in silver in 
 fifteen years. 
 
 Governor Belcher opposed both these schemes. 
 He removed military and civil officers when 
 found receiving or passing these notes. His 
 action aroused a vigorous protest from many who 
 considered it an infringement on personal liberty. 
 When Parliament in 1740 'declared the Joint 
 Stock Company act ( passed after the South Sea 
 Bubble, which was to the effect that "No in- 
 corporate body of more than six shall do business 
 as a bank") was applicable to the colonies, both 
 banks were compelled to close. The Land Bank 
 continued through intrigue for a time, ,£35,582 
 in notes being then in circulation, and its accounts 
 were not finally closed until thirty years later. 
 The loss to the holders of the notes was very 
 great. The champions of these banking schemes 
 by misrepresentation in England were successful 
 in securing Governor Belcher's recall, but he was 
 soon after appointed governor of New Jersey. 
 
 We have noted that the year 1741 was set as 
 the time for the redemption of all outstanding 
 
ioo Darling lpri3e Gbesfe 
 
 bills, but as this time approached this was found 
 to be impracticable and the time was extended to 
 1743. Thus by continual failure to redeem the 
 bills public confidence was destroyed. 
 
 Whenever the depreciation became considerable 
 the bills were allowed to pass at current rates. 
 Commissioners were appointed to find what these 
 rates were and publish them. Debts and contracts 
 were then settled according to these rates. This 
 process of repudiation was carried on year after 
 year. In order to distinguish the different issues 
 they were called "tenors"; the last issue, new 
 tenor, the previous one middle tenor, then old 
 tenor and so on. Subsequent issues were called 
 new tenor first, new tenor second and so on. 
 At one time Massachusetts had four "tenors in 
 circulation, while Rhode Island had an indefinite 
 number of tenors like a succession of manure 
 heaps in different degrees of rottenness." 
 
 In 1743 Massachusetts again proposed to the 
 other New England colonies that commissioners 
 be appointed to make arrangements for the 
 retiring of all the bills of credit, but as before they 
 refused to take any decisive action. 
 
 In 1748 the colonies joined in a reckless ex- 
 pedition against Louisburg. Bills were issued 
 to prepare for it. Historians are agreed that it 
 was only by a succession of strange accidents 
 that the expedition succeeded, but it did succeed. 
 By a treaty however England gave Cape Breton 
 and Louisburg back to France and voted to 
 recompense the colonies for their trouble. Mas- 
 
Ibfstorg ot paper Currency 101 
 
 sachusetts received ^" 1 38,649. This at the 
 ruling rate of exchange would nearly cancel the 
 bills. The proposal to retire the paper money 
 met with considerable opposition, but under the 
 energetic leadership of Hutchinson the more 
 conservative party won, and it was finally agreed 
 that the money should be sent over in silver and 
 copper coin, The shock which some feared 
 from this sudden change was felt in Rhode Island 
 and New Hampshire, who found their trade 
 going suddenly to the "silver colony" and their 
 paper currency depreciated. The West Indies 
 trade done largely through Newport was now 
 at Salem and Boston. Trade hitherto stagnant 
 steadily and rapidly revived, and for twenty-five 
 years Massachusetts enjoyed the benefit of a 
 sound currency. 
 
 It was found that the expectation of having 
 the bills paid in specie led to their being hoarded 
 and so the time set for their redemption had to be 
 extended, but the last were redeemed before 
 
 I754- 
 
 Massachusetts was the first to issue notes; she 
 was also the first to redeem them; but we find 
 no change in her attitude toward the underlying 
 principles of inconvertible paper money. In 175 1 
 forgetting her former scruples she helped secure 
 the passage of an act prohibiting New England 
 assemblies from issuing bills of credit unless 
 their redemption should be provided for by taxes 
 due within a year or four years in case of war. 
 But this act, it will be noted, permits bills under 
 
Starling Pri.se Cbcst* 
 
 certain conditions and these conditions are the 
 very ones under which most of the Massachusetts 
 bills were issued. 
 
 After the resumption of a specie basis in 
 Massachusetts many measures were passed in 
 their attempt to shut out other colonial bills but 
 these were not altogether successful. 
 
 The following table shows the rate of exchange 
 on England for ^"ioo sterling, also for one ounce 
 silver : 
 
 icd. 
 
 3d. 
 
 1702 
 
 135 
 
 6s. 
 
 1700 
 
 135 
 
 7S. 
 
 1713 
 
 ISO 
 
 8s. 
 
 1716 
 
 17s 
 
 OS. 
 
 1717 
 
 22s 
 
 12s. 
 
 1722 
 
 270 
 
 14s. 
 
 1728 
 
 340 
 
 1 8s. 
 
 1730 
 
 380 
 
 20s. 
 
 1737 
 
 soo 
 
 26s. 
 
 1741 
 
 sso 
 
 28s. 
 
 1749 
 
 1100 
 
 60s. 
 
 The most noticable rise is between 1741 and 
 1749. This was due to the large issues at the 
 time of the Louisburg expedition. 
 
 Massachusetts thus freed herself from this 
 evil, yet treasury-certificates, bearing interest, 
 were systematically issued without prejudice to 
 public interests until the outbreak of the Revolu- 
 tion. 
 
 The paper currency of New Hampshire was 
 similar in all respects to that of Massachusetts. 
 Her first bills were issued for the Canada expedi- 
 
tbtetoig of paper Currency 103 
 
 tion of 1709. In the strife between the governor 
 and the assembly in this colony one fact of inter- 
 est is the refusal of the assembly for five succes- 
 sive years, to vote any supplies. 
 
 Dr. Douglas, writing in 1739, says: "The 
 public bills of New Hampshire, a province of 
 small trade and credit, are so much counterfeited 
 they scarce obtain a currency (the governor's in- 
 struction is also a bar ), hence it is that at present 
 their outstanding bills of credit, some on funds 
 of taxes, some on loans, do not exceed £ 12,000 
 gradually to be cancelled by December, 1742." 
 
 After 1743 however the issues were largely in- 
 creased and the bills suffered a corresponding de- 
 preciation. 
 
 The history of the paper currency of Vermont 
 is brief and satisfactory. Bills of credit were is- 
 sued but once, these suffered no depreciation and 
 were soon redeemed by taxes. 
 
 Rhode Island plunged more recklessly into 
 paper currency than any other New England 
 colony. The history of her colonial currency 
 shows most clearly the dangers of inconvertible 
 paper money in a democratic community. The 
 loan bank scheme was tried to its bitter end. 
 Indulgence in repeated issues created an over- 
 mastering passion for paper money. No restric- 
 tions were tolerated and her unwillingness to give 
 up her independent right to issue bills has been 
 considered the principal cause of her absence 
 from the constitutional convention of 1787. 
 
 The scarcity of silver and the cost of the ex- 
 
io4 2>arling prije Gbeste 
 
 pedition against Port Royal led to the first is- 
 sue in 1 710. From time to time she issued, as 
 did the other colonies, small sums to supply the 
 treasury, but the important feature in her currency 
 was the so-called " Banks." The use of the 
 word "bank" in the colonial period was peculiar. 
 As we have intimated, a bank was a large sum 
 of paper money, issued not for government use 
 but to be loaned to the public on mortgage se- 
 curity for a term of years for the purpose of 
 helping trade and commerce. 
 
 The first bank was in 1715- ,£40,000 were is- 
 sued for ten years with five per cent, interest pay- 
 able yearly in flax and hemp. One-tenth of the 
 principal was to be paid annually without interest 
 after the tenth year. The bills were secured by 
 mortgages of double value, the interest being se- 
 cured by bonds. A second bank was issued in 
 1 72 1 for five years, one-half the annual interest 
 to be divided among the towns. These early bills 
 were extensively counterfeited and soon replaced 
 by others. 
 
 When the bills of these banks were about to 
 come due it was argued that the trade and com- 
 merce of the province would be injured by re- 
 moving suddenly such a large amount from 
 circulation. The cry of the debtors was heeded 
 and the time of redemption put at thirteen 
 years. We note that here, as in Massachusetts, 
 depreciation soon followed this breach of faith. 
 
 Depreciation having once begun the slightest 
 pretext served for the issue of a new bank. 
 
1biston> of paper Cuxiencv 105 
 
 " The colony was in debt, the fort out of repair, 
 or a new jail or court-house was to be built. 
 And when the specie had been driven away by 
 the increase of paper money, then the 'scarcity of 
 silver' was a fresh excuse for further issues." 
 The decay of trade and commerce was a frequent 
 pretext, and for this reason the interest on the 
 bank of 1731 was to furnish a bounty on flax, 
 hemp, whale-oil, whalebone, and codfish. One- 
 half the interest of the bank of 1733 was to be 
 divided ratably among the towns. 
 
 The intensity of the strife after more and more 
 paper soon developed party lines and governors 
 were elected and turned out according as the dif- 
 ferent interests happened to prevail. The gov- 
 ernor guided by instructions from England, the 
 merchants and business men, together with the 
 more intelligent in the community composed the 
 opposition; while members of the assembly, de- 
 siring popular favor and more often their own 
 interests, with debtors in all classes, heartily sup- 
 ported such measures. The better element was 
 outvoted. 
 
 It soon became for a man's advantage to re- 
 main in debt, the longer he waited the less he 
 would owe. Money could be borrowed on 
 mortgages and debts incurred, when they 
 came due the money being depreciated was 
 easily obtained. Each new bank depreciated 
 the bills already in circulation. 
 
 In 1738 a bank of ^100,000 was issued, new 
 precautions being taken to secure the interest. 
 
to6 ©arlinci prtjC Cbests 
 
 Two years later ^£"20,000 were issued in order to 
 fit out a privateer against the Spaniards. These 
 bills were declared to be equal to a certain 
 quantity of gold or silver. This mere assertion 
 like the legal-tender laws failed to hinder depre- 
 ciation. 
 
 Some idea of the extent of the depreciation 
 in Rhode Island may be gained from the follow- 
 ing statement : in 1749 there was in circulation. 
 jQ 1 10,444 m Mis issued for the expenses of the 
 government, valued at ^35,445 sterling ; £,2\o- 
 000 from the banks, valued at ^1,040 sterling. 
 
 The ninth and last bank was £2^,000 issued 
 in 175 1. It was supposed to be for the purpose 
 of giving a bounty on flax, manufactured wool, 
 whale and cod fisheries, but the bounty on wool 
 was displeasing to England and the others were 
 ineffective so they were soon removed. 
 
 August, 1750, marks the beginning of Rhode 
 Island's attempt to settle the loans. ,£4,000 
 sterling received from England two years later 
 were used to redeem the bills last issued. The 
 legislature frequently passed measures deter- 
 mining the rate of depreciation and from time to 
 time the different emissions were called in and 
 replaced bv treasury notes. 
 
 Rhode Island, completely controlled by the 
 debtor class, continued her issues almost to the 
 complete destruction of trade and commerce. 
 Her unlimited issues were but a step removed 
 from unlimited repudiation. 
 
 Of all the New England colonies, excepting 
 
tXstorg of paper Currency 107 
 
 Vermont, Connecticut managed her early emis- 
 sions of paper money with the greatest caution 
 and judgment. This was due in great measure 
 to her desire to retain her charter. 
 
 Like the early bills of Massachusetts her bills 
 were receivable at the treasury at an advance of 
 five per cent, over coin. But in Connecticut, 
 neither this paper nor that of any other colony was 
 made legal tender, although all remedy was 
 taken away from the creditor in case the bills 
 were tendered. 
 
 The issues in Connecticut were made at first 
 wholly for the expenses of government, ample 
 taxes being levied at the same time for their 
 redemption. And payments were never put off 
 in the manner common in Massachusetts and 
 Rhode Island. 
 
 But the common circulation of the paper of 
 the New England colonies soon deprived Con- 
 necticut of the benefit of this self-restraint. De- 
 preciation gradually increased. The value of an 
 ounce of silver went from eight shillings in 17 10 
 to twenty-eight shillings in 1740 when Connecti- 
 cut undertook to redeem her credit. .£30,000 
 new tenor bills were to be issued, of which sum 
 £8,000 were to be used in cancelling the depre- 
 ciated bills. But the threatening attitude of the 
 royal government checked further emissions for 
 four years. At the outbreak of the war with 
 France, however, bills to the amount of £131,000 
 were issued; But this new issue instead of bene- 
 fitting the currency as they hoped, caused a still 
 
io8 HJarlins Prf3e Gbests 
 
 heavier depreciation in the bills then in circula- 
 tion. 
 
 In 1 75 1 Connecticut made some attempt to fol- 
 low out the act of Parliament and offered one 
 ounce silver for fifty-eight shillings, but before 
 the entire amount could be cancelled war again 
 broke out (1755) and the remainder sank to 
 eighty-eight shillings to the ounce. 
 
 Accounts now began to be kept in proclama- 
 tion money. War expenses were provided for 
 by the issue of notes for two and five years, 
 bearing five per cent, interest, secured by taxes. 
 These notes, however did not enter very largely 
 into circulation. 
 
 Between the years 1771 and 1774, .£39,000 in 
 bills were issued, to be current two years with- 
 out interest. These were issued for the expenses 
 of the government, but being covered by suffi- 
 cient taxes and not being in excess of the needs 
 of the province, they did not depreciate. 
 
 Turning to the Middle Colonies, we find that 
 the history of their paper currency, although 
 showing that the same tendencies were present, 
 is marked by fewer instances of over-issue and 
 excessive depreciation. 
 
 The stubbornness of their governors, who in- 
 sisted more successfully than did those of New 
 England, upon carrying out their instructions from 
 the Lords of Trade and the position of the colonies 
 themselves in reference both to their friends and 
 foes ; these two things exerted a retaining influ- 
 ence and thus gave stability to their currency. 
 
trtstorg of paper Gurrencg 109 
 
 Says Mr. Bancroft, "The central colonies scarcely 
 knew of war. New England and South Carolina 
 did all the fighting and alone were involved in 
 the direct evils of war." The direct evils of war 
 in New England and South Carolina were debt 
 and large and frequent issues of paper money. 
 
 All the colonies save one adopted the maxim 
 that it is the function of government to furnish a 
 circulating medium for commerce. The first 
 issue of paper money in Pennsylvania was in rec- 
 ognition of this principle. 
 
 Like the other colonies Pennsylvania suffered 
 from the lack of a good medium of exchange, 
 and as the needs of the colony multiplied com- 
 plaints about the "scarcity of money" cor- 
 respondingly increased. Yet when paper money 
 was suggested as a remedy for this evil, the 
 proposal occasioned considerable debate. The 
 majority favored it but the more solid men of 
 the community, among whom were James Logan 
 and Isaac Norris, mindful of the fate of the notes 
 issued by New England and the Carolinas, held 
 back fearing depreciation. Both parties were 
 agreed however that the notes issued should be 
 solely to answer the purpose of a circulating 
 medium and not to scale down debts. A measure 
 was soon passed authorizing an issue of ^15,000 
 in bills of credit. These were to be let out on 
 loan at five per cent, on land security or plate of 
 treble value ; the interest and one-eighth of the 
 principal to be paid each year. The benefits 
 seemed immediate and a second issue was made 
 
of ;£ 30,000 to be current twelve and one-half 
 years. 
 
 The Lords of Trade objected to this issue of 
 paper money and would have repealed the acts 
 had not the bills already found a wide circula- 
 tion. The governor was ordered to consent to 
 no further emissions under pain of its dis- 
 allowance. 
 
 Very soon they came to consider the restric- 
 tions under which the first bills had been issued 
 as too stringent, and the loan system as finally 
 adopted in Pennsylvan a was as follows : the 
 trustees of the loan office were to loan out the 
 bills on security of at least double the value for a 
 term of sixteen years, with interest and one-six- 
 teenth of the principal payable yearly. The in- 
 terest was to go for public revenue, while the 
 one-sixteenth of the principal was to be loaned 
 out again to new borrowers who were to have 
 the loan for the remaining time, repaying in 
 fewer and proportionally larger installments. 
 During the last six years the sums paid in were 
 not to be reloaned but were to be burned so 
 that the whole should be paid in and accounts 
 settled at the end of the sixteenth year. The 
 first issue in accordance with this plan was for 
 ^30,000. It may be interesting to note that 
 Franklin was a supporter of this scheme. He 
 wrote a pamphlet defending it entitled, "A 
 Modest Enquiry into the Nature and Necessity 
 of a Paper Currency," which set forth the argu- 
 ments so convincingly that he was given the 
 
Mfstovg of paper Currency 1 1 1 
 
 lucrative job of printing the bills. 
 
 When the time came to withdraw the bills 
 first issued from circulation, there was raised the 
 cry, which was prevalent in Rhode Island on a 
 similar occasion, that the withdrawal of this 
 large sum from circulation would injure trade; if 
 it were all redeemed and no more issued 
 they would be again without a currency. The 
 governor considered that the needs of the 
 province justified him in his adion and although 
 it was in dirett opposition to his instructions from 
 the Lords of Trade, he sanctioned the renewal of 
 the previous issues. 
 
 The imposition of the death penalty for coun- 
 terfeiting may be rioted in the year 1739, together 
 with another increase in the currency. 
 
 Thus far the notes of Pennsylvania, having 
 ample provision for their ultimate extinction, 
 circulated freely at their value and were superior 
 to the notes of the other colonies. The only evil 
 felt thus far was the demand of the proprietaries 
 who asked in payment of the quit-rents the dif- 
 ference of exchange on London and an annuity 
 °f ^'3° during the currency of their notes. 
 This demand aroused much hatred and sowed 
 seed for further strife between the province and 
 the governors, their representatives. 
 
 Soon the governor is further instructed to per- 
 mit the passage of no act authorizing an increase 
 of paper money unless it contains a clause sus- 
 pending its operation until the king's pleasure is 
 known. 
 
ii2 Darling pil3e XLhcsis 
 
 The conflict between the governor, represent- 
 ing the proprietaries, and the assembly, repre- 
 senting the people, gradually grew more intense, 
 although up to 1755 nothing was accomplished 
 save the continuance, of the existing currency. 
 In this year the assembly took a determined 
 stand. They passed resolutions to the effecl 
 that the paper money, of this province should 
 be reemitted ; that there is need of an addition ; 
 and that more is also needed to replace the torn 
 and ragged bills. But the various measures 
 proposed from time to time were so changed by 
 the governor as to become repulsive, until in 
 1755 he consented to an issue of „£i 0,000 to 
 replace old and torn bills ; but with these bills a 
 new system was inaugurated. 
 
 Up to 1746, then, the issue of paper money 
 was based on reliable securities. Imports had 
 increased. Trade had prospered, the notes were 
 eagerly sought for in other colonies. Public im- 
 provements, houses, and stores had been erected 
 on these loans, the terms of which were much 
 more favorable than could be obtained from 
 private individuals. This cautious policy had been 
 approved of by England, who had exempted 
 Pennsylvania in an act passed in 1751 to restrain 
 the colonies from issuing bills of credit. 
 
 Of the loan system Governor Pownall says : 
 " 1 will venture to say, that there never was a 
 wiser, better measure, never one better calculated 
 to serve the interests of our increasing country ; 
 that there never was a measure more steadily 
 
HMstoris of paper Currency 1 13 
 
 pursued or more faithfully executed than the loan 
 office in Pennsylvania founded and administered 
 by the assembly of that province." Yet not- 
 withstanding the high regard in which this 
 system was held, and the fact that in its early 
 days it was more successful than any other 
 colonial attempt at paper money, we find that 
 even this system was not altogether incompatible 
 with depreciation, for since the introduction of 
 paper, exchange had risen seventy per cent, by 
 1738, and between eighty and ninety per cent. 
 ten years later. 
 
 And still, if the early conservatism could have 
 been continued the loss by depreciation would 
 have been slight. But large sums were now re- 
 quired for instant use. No means was at hand 
 save the anticipation of future revenues and so 
 bills were emitted, to be redeemed by taxation 
 within a definite period. This taxation was a 
 great cause of strife, because the lands of the 
 proprietaries were taxed v/ith the others. They 
 made strenuous objections, they forbade the gov- 
 ernor to sanction the enaction of such laws, but 
 here as in the other colonies we find that in the 
 end the people were successful. 
 
 After the defeat of General Braddock in 1756 the 
 alarm felt in the province caused ,£60,000 to be 
 issued for the king's use, to be redeemed by taxa- 
 tion ; while at this time another loan was also made. 
 Public exigencies and the alarming situation of 
 the colonies caused the continued approval of 
 such laws, although all the evils of overissue 
 
1 14 Darling pri^e XTbesis 
 
 were present and plainly recognized. Thus we 
 find that Pennsylvania, who alone of all the col- 
 onies made her first issues after careful considera- 
 tion and without the pressure of any sudden 
 emergency, when these crises came, followed a 
 course differing in no particular from that of 
 the others, the conditions being the same. 
 During the next thirteen years no less than 
 ,£475,000 in bills of credit were issued. 
 
 By act of Parlaiment in 1764 the issue of bills 
 of credit as legal tender or the extension of the 
 legal-tender quality of those then in circulation 
 beyond their period of redemption was pro- 
 hibited in the colonies. Any governor who 
 should assent to further emissions was liable to 
 dismissal from office and incapacity for further 
 service. This act stopping for a time the issue 
 of provincial bills, an association of merchants in 
 Philadelphia, in order to supply the deficiency, 
 issued .£20,000 in £*, notes payable on demand 
 with five per cent, interest. But they were soon 
 compelled to call them in, the assembly declar- 
 ing that their circulation injured the credit of the 
 provincial currency. 
 
 There were two issues of ,£60,000 in 1769, the 
 bills being so worded as to evade the law and yet 
 pass as legal tender. The first of these was exten- 
 sively counterfeited and had to be soon called in. 
 Again in 1771, fearing war, ;£i 5,000 were or- 
 dered to defend Philadelphia. Not being needed 
 for that purpose however the money was used 
 to pave the streets. 
 
Ibtstorg of paper Currency 1 15 
 
 The temptation to overcome instant want by 
 means of large sums payable in the future still 
 existed, and later we find bills issued to pay the 
 expenses of the government ; for the support of 
 a lighthouse at Cape Henlopen ; for the placing 
 of buoys in the Delaware River and Bay ; and for 
 the erection of a jail in Philadelphia. 
 
 We note also an attempt made to revive the 
 loan-office system in 1773, but times had changed 
 several of the bills and trustees failed to act and 
 the plan fell through. 
 
 The early issues of Pennsylvania kept their 
 credit well. They were for small sums and 
 were carefully secured. The history of the later 
 issues is significant. It shows the increasing- 
 power of the people and their successful at- 
 tempt to tax the public domain and the private 
 estates of the proprietaries. It shows that the 
 great danger in paper money comes from yield- 
 ing to sudden calls by issuing large sums not 
 well secured. None of the colonies, if the temp- 
 tation came to them, were able to withstand it. 
 We note that here as in Massachusetts restriction 
 on provincial bills led to private enterprises in 
 banking. The difference in Pennsylvania was 
 one of degree more than of kind. The conditions 
 calling forth large issues in other colonies did 
 not exist here until later, but when they came 
 the results were similar. 
 
 New York issued her first bills of credit to 
 prepare for the expedition against Canada in 1 709. 
 These bills at first bore interest ; they were 
 
1 1 6 Darling I>ri3e Gbesis 
 
 founded on taxes and were to be cancelled as 
 paid in. The next year the interest was taken off 
 upon the "pretence that it occasioned them to be 
 hoarded as bonds and did frustrate their currency." 
 During the first ten years less than £60,000 
 were issued, these being mainly for the expenses 
 of the government. They were founded on 
 taxes and excise and we find that trade and navi- 
 gation were favorably affected. The early bills 
 of New York were twenty-five per cent, to 
 thirty per cent, better than those of New England. 
 They were equal to silver and in some provinces 
 fifty per cent, better. 
 
 Small issues were subsequently made partly of 
 new bills and partly to replace the old and worn 
 ones. In 1734 the governor fearing a rupture 
 between France and England asked an emission 
 of ;£ 12,000 for the defense of the colony. This 
 issue was to be current for twenty-two years 
 and cancelled by a duty on goods and a tax on 
 slaves. 
 
 The revenues intended for the redemption of 
 the bills were used for other purposes, and it 
 was soon found that many were unredeemed 
 although long past due. The governor asked 
 the assembly for ,£48,350. It was refused and 
 he then dissolved the body. The new assembly 
 on the last day of the session passed the measure 
 but voted that henceforth supplies would be 
 granted for one year at a time, instead of five. 
 A loan office was now established and the greater 
 part of the issue just voted was let out to the dif- 
 
1Di6tocs of paper Gui'rencE 1 1 7 
 
 ferent counties for twelve years at five per 
 cent. 
 
 Douglas, writing in 1739, says that some of the 
 early bills of New York were issued before the 
 consent of the Lords of Trade had been obtained. 
 Finding that the bills were in circulation they did 
 not have them recalled, "Lest many persons 
 who had bona fide received them for valuable 
 considerations, might suffer by their being sup- 
 pressed. Which indulgence this government 
 has abused by never waiting for the royal con- 
 sent in their future emissions." 
 
 Some of the early bills soon falling due (1738) 
 the governor intimated that he would not con- 
 sent to an extension of time unless supplies were 
 granted for five years. This they refused to do 
 and the body was dissolved. The new assembly 
 at their first meeting voted to support their paper 
 currency and the governor prorogued them for a 
 week. But as he wished to take advantage of 
 this meeting of the assembly, in order to put 
 the colony in a better state of defense, and as 
 he had already been compelled to sell some of 
 his estates for the support of the government, he 
 soon yielded to their demands. He reported to 
 the Lords of Trade that his action had secured 
 quieter times than there had been for forty 
 years. 
 
 During the French and Indian war which 
 soon followed ,£81,000 were issued, all secured 
 by taxes, but as yet the New York bills suffered 
 no great depreciation. 
 
i is Darling pr(3C Zbcsie 
 
 The struggle between the governor and the 
 assembly which continued through the next dec- 
 ade, differed from the one in Pennsylvania in this: 
 in Pennsylvania the contention was concerning 
 the propriety of issuing bills of credit at all; in 
 New York the question was, "Who shall spend 
 this money?" The assembly in New York as- 
 sumed the right to judge the necessities of the 
 province and the demands and necessities of the 
 governor, and in the future all grants were put into 
 the hands of special commissioners. The governor 
 tried to reinstitutethe granting of supplies for five 
 years. 
 
 The British merchants suffered severely from the 
 paper money in the colonies and at their request the 
 crown often endeavored to ascertain the state 
 of the currency in America. Reports were sel- 
 dom accurately made and it may be noted that 
 at one time the treasurer in New York refused to 
 give the governor a statement of the bills of credit 
 then in circulation, the governor then desiring to 
 respond to such a demand frmo the crown. 
 
 The peace existing between England and 
 France from 1748 to 1752 was soon broken by a 
 war in which the colonies had little success. 
 Under the tremendous pressure of war, New 
 York, like Pennsylvania, made large and frequent 
 additions to her currency. This materially af- 
 fected their value. Unable to cancel them 
 when due, they were extended. To further se- 
 cure them duties were now laid on paper and 
 imported teas. 
 
"IbfstorE of paper Currency 1 19 
 
 The mother country now joined with the col- 
 onies and the French were defeated. During the 
 struggle New York was heavily drawn upon, 
 her issues for this purpose amounting in 1760 to 
 ,£410,000. Depreciation now increased with 
 great rapidity. 
 
 The act concerning legal-tender paper money 
 in the colonies was passed by Parliament in 1764. 
 As the bills in circulation in New York would 
 mature in 1768, Governor Morris asked what re- 
 lief he would be allowed to give, since if all the 
 paper were withdrawn New York would have 
 no legal-tender currency, coin being very scarce. 
 ,£250,000 were allowed, but the legal-tender 
 restrictions were not removed. The assembly 
 then passed a bill making gold and silver legal 
 tender at current rates, specifying none. This 
 v/as vetoed, as Queen Ann's proclamation act 
 had made the Spanish silver dollar in the colo- 
 nies legal tender at six shillings. They then 
 passed an act authorizing an issue of £ 120,000 
 on loan, for fourteen years at five per cent, to 
 be receivable for public dues but not legal tender. 
 The Lords of Trade decided that this also con- 
 flicted with the proclamation. Lieutenant Gov- 
 ernor Colden in 1770 assented to another act of 
 this kind, but he was severely reprimanded and 
 the act disallowed. After considerable delay, 
 however, a special act of Parliament was passed 
 authorizing the colony to issue ,£120,000 non- 
 legal tender, receivable for public dues. These 
 bills were outstanding at the opening of the 
 Revolution. 
 
i2o Darling f>ri3c Hbesie 
 
 The whole amount issued by New York was 
 not large and the special and repeated methods 
 of taxation adopted for its extinction were 
 successfully carried out as the resources of the 
 province would allow. Here as in the other 
 colonies we find the strife with the governors, 
 and the people coming out ahead ; we find large 
 issues called out by the immediate demands of 
 war ; we also find that depreciation follows such 
 overissues and is intensified by the removal of 
 the safeguards, which here as elsewhere were 
 put around the first bills. 
 
 New Jersey like New York issued her first bills 
 of credit to raise and equip troops for the expedi- 
 tion against Canada in 1709. ,£8,000 were is- 
 sued for this purpose. Bills of credit seemed 
 then the only way to raise money quickly. 
 Although the need of a medium of exchange was 
 sorely felt there was no suggestion as yet of paper 
 money as a permanent currency. In 1716 the 
 governor presented a bill approving an issue of 
 ,£4,670. Besides this there were at this time 
 only ,£1,700 of the former issues in circula- 
 tion. 
 
 The need of a better medium daily became more 
 urgent; petitions were circulated asking for some 
 sort of currency. The peculiar position of New 
 Jersey occasioned additional trouble. Her prod- 
 uce went to New York and Pennsylvania 
 where it was exchanged for notes which neither 
 the creditors of persons residing in Jersey nor 
 the public treasury, would receive. Consequently 
 
ttistorE of iPaper Currency 1 2 1 
 
 taxes were often paid in broken earrings, jewelry, 
 and plate. Finally under Governor Burnet, after 
 a careful examination, the loan system of Penn- 
 sylvania was adopted and a bank of .£40,000 
 issued (1723) for twelve years at five per cent. 
 The annual interest was to be for a sinking-fund 
 and the expenses of the governments These 
 notes were extensively counterfeited and in 1727 
 were called in, an issue of ,£26,760 replacing 
 them for the remainder of the period. A sec- 
 ond bank of ,£25,000 for sixteen years was is- 
 sued in 1730 and three years later a third for 
 ,£40,000. These with an issue of ,£2,000 at 
 the request of the home government for men 
 and supplies for the West Indies, completed the 
 experience of New Jersey with the loan-office 
 system. 
 
 "The Jersey bills kept their credit better than 
 those of New York and Pennsylvania for two 
 reasons : first, the New York bills not being cur- 
 rent in Pennsylvania and the Pennsylvania bills 
 not being current in New York, but Jersey bills 
 being current in both, all payments between 
 New York and Pennsylvania are made in Jersey 
 bills; second, in the Jersey's, failure of the loan 
 payments at the day appointed was confessing 
 judgment, and thereafter only thirty days re- 
 demption of the mortgage is allowed." 
 
 After the close of the loan office, only such 
 bills were allowed as were non-legal tender, 
 redeemable in a short time by specific taxation, 
 and the laws authorizing them were held over 
 
laa Barliini pii^c TEbeste 
 
 until the king's pleasure was known. 
 
 The Lords of Trade gave as the reason of their 
 refusals their fear of injury to commerce which 
 would result from other bills. The real reason no 
 doubt lay in the fad that the assembly reserved 
 to itself the disposition of the money. Conse- 
 quently the cost of expeditions for the mother 
 country could be secured only by issuing war 
 notes redeemable by heavy direct taxation. In 
 the interval between 1740 and 17SS nearly 
 ,£200.000 in such notes were issued; and on 
 these exchange rose to 180 on £ 100 sterling. 
 
 The struggle between the prerogatives of the 
 crown and the privileges of the people continued. 
 A loan office was again urged, it being said that 
 the annual interest in the case of the mortgages 
 went toward the payment of the war debt. But 
 the Lords of Trade refused to sanction it and for 
 three reasons : because the bills were to be legal 
 tender; because the assembly reserved the right 
 
 dispose of the money thus created; and third. 
 the very reason they had urged, because the sur- 
 plus of the interest was to be applied to the re- 
 demption of the bills instead of taxation for that 
 purpose. 
 
 In 1769 New Jersey ceased to issue bills of 
 credit, and taxation was to be her only resource. 
 Of the £947, =;oo issued for the king's use, 
 £, iqo,ooo then outstanding were soon with- 
 drawn and redeemed by taxation. 
 
 The paper money of New Jersey issued with 
 the same caution and foresight which character- 
 
"BMstors of paper Currency 125 
 
 ized the early bills of Pennsylvania never suffered 
 excessive depreciation. 
 
 Of the Southern colonies, Maryland and 
 Virginia were by far the most conservative in is- 
 suing bills of credit. Disturbed only by rumors 
 of war and with few actual conflicts during the 
 greater part of their colonial history, and having 
 a larger export trade with England than did the 
 other colonies as well as a barter currency which 
 excelled any then in existence, the need of a 
 better medium of exchange was not so impera- 
 tively felt. 
 
 The Carolinas, however, harassed by continual 
 warfare and soon blinded by the passion for new 
 issues which their own system soon created, is- 
 sued paper money with a reckless indulgence 
 greater even than that of New England. 
 
 An ill-judged expedition against St. Augustine 
 in 1702 plunged South Carolina into debt and was 
 the occasion of her first bills of credit. ,£8,000 
 were issued to be sunk in three years by duties 
 on liquors, furs, and skins. These notes, thus 
 carefully secured, as were the notes in all the 
 colonies, kept their value for five or six years. 
 
 To defray the cost of an expedition against 
 the Tuscaroras and also in order to facilitate 
 domestic trade the legislature in 1712 established 
 the lirst loan bank. We have already noted the 
 adoption of this system in the other colonies, for, 
 says Mr. Bancroft, " from this example the pas- 
 sion for borrowing spread like flame on a dry 
 prairie." Bank after bank was issued in quick 
 
i24 Darling f>ri3e Gbesis 
 
 succession in South Carolina and the depreciation 
 was excessive. 
 
 The struggle which soon arose between the 
 assembly and the governor was similar in 
 nature to that in the other colonies. True to his 
 instructions the governor restricted further issues ; 
 in 1719 the colonists secured his recail on this ac- 
 count and the king connived at it hoping thereby 
 to gain favor with the people. At one time 
 later in the struggle the assembly adjourned for 
 three years, having made no provision for the 
 support of the government. 
 
 In 1729 the colony was bought from the pro- 
 prietaries. The new assembly at its first session 
 voted to suspend the payment of the outstanding 
 bills and issued ,£104,000 to pay the expenses of 
 the last four years. 
 
 Almost any pretext served as the occasion of 
 a new bank. In 1736 the assembly voted to is- 
 sue ^"210,000; of this, ;£ 1 00, 000 were to replace 
 old and worn bills, the remainder to be loaned at 
 five per cent. Five-eighths of the interest was to 
 produce an accumulating fund forthe redemption 
 of the bills, two-eighths was for the " assistance 
 of poor Protestants who shall arrive in the prov- 
 ince and settle in the new townships, "one-eighth 
 was for the expenses of the government. 
 
 A contemporary writer brings the charge of 
 bad faith against the Carolinas of his time. 
 " Their legislatures have been most notoriously 
 guilty of breach of public faith in not cancelling 
 their bills. Besides emissions for the ordinary 
 
HMstorE of paper Currency 125 
 
 charges of government and their expeditions 
 against the Indians, they have large sums upon 
 loans. They may have at present outstanding 
 about ^250,000 in province bills, whereof above 
 ,£100,000 are without fund or period." 
 
 " The whole amount issued in bills of credit 
 by provincial South Carolina, " says Mr. Ramsey, 
 the historian of the State, " in the sixty-eight 
 years which intervened between the first and last 
 emissions of paper, was ,£605,000, of which, 
 more than two-thirds was secured by mortgaged 
 property." 
 
 The following table shows the depreciation of 
 the South Carolina bills. The figures are cur- 
 rency for x^ioo sterling. 
 
 1712 .... 100 
 1715 .... 150 
 1 7 14 . . . . 200 
 1731 . . . . 700 
 The last rate they kept for nearly forty years, 
 there being at times a slight increase. 
 
 North Carolina was the least commercial of all 
 the colonies, and what little trading was done 
 was with New England. Joining with South 
 Carolina in the war against the Tuscaroras, she is- 
 sued her first bills of credit ^800 in 17 12. After 
 this, issues were continually made, some for war 
 expenses, others in the hope of benefiting trade. 
 In 1739, Douglas says concerning this colony: 
 "North Carolina, an inconsiderable colony 
 scarce capable of any fund for paper emissions, 
 has notwithstanding ,£40,000 upon loan and 
 
i26 Sterling IP1I3C JLbceie 
 
 ^12,500 upon funds of taxes." The issues of 
 North Carolina were so much out of proportion 
 to the requirements of the colony that exchange 
 on London rose, in 1740, to 1400 - 100. 
 
 The methods employed here to gain permis- 
 sion to increase the currency were as remarkable 
 as those prevalent in other colonies. One issue 
 was granted on condition that a part of it be 
 used to build the governor a house. Later, in 
 the French war, when the governor of Virginia 
 called for aid, the temporary adminstration of the 
 province was held by Michael Rowan, who 
 availed himself of the opportunity to consent to 
 a new issue of paper money. 
 
 In the Carolinas we find depreciation and re- 
 pudiation prevalent sooner and proceeding to a 
 greater extent than in any of the other col- 
 onies. 
 
 In Maryland silver continued at proclamation 
 value until 1734, with considerable use of tobacco 
 as a medium of exchange. "They then emitted 
 bills payable to the possessors in sterling well 
 secured, but the sum being too large, and the 
 periods too long, viz. : three partial payments of 
 fifteen-year periods each ; exchange immediately 
 rose from thirty-three to one hundred per cent." 
 
 Virginia issued no bills of credit before the 
 French war, the reason very probably being 
 that, in tobacco, she possessed a medium of ex- 
 change which was remarkably stable in value. 
 Tobacco warehouses were built under the direction 
 of public authorities. Inspectors were appointed 
 
t)istovg of Paper Currency 127 
 
 who examined the quality of all tobacco; if found 
 satisfactory, a receipt was given. This receipt 
 passed through many hands often, before reach- 
 ing a merchant who wanted it for exportation. 
 These receipts representing a commodity of high 
 intrinsic value supplemented rather than sup- 
 planted coin, and proved to be a safe circulating- 
 medium and were the only paper in circulation 
 until 1755. 
 
 In that year "in order to prevent his majesty's 
 subjects from the encroachments and insults of 
 the French " the colonial treasurer was author- 
 ized to issue not over ,£20,000 in treasury notes 
 due in one year, bearing five per cent, interest. 
 These were to be legal tender for all debts. The 
 death penalty was imposed for counterfeiting. 
 They soon attempted a second issue in order to 
 pay the bounties offered for Indian scalps, but 
 this the governor refused — it being contrary to 
 his instructions. The notes issued after 1757 
 and all then in circulation as Well, were not to 
 bear interest. In order to force their accept- 
 ance an additional penalty of twenty per cent, of 
 the value of the commodity was inflicted on those 
 who refused to accept the notes at their nominal 
 value. 
 
 In the years following various issues were 
 granted, some for government expenses and 
 some for bounties, amounting in all to £21 1,000. 
 These were at first for some definite period but 
 the time was frequently extended. The issue of 
 1 771 is noticable from the fact that it was for the 
 
ia8 Darling B>ri3C Gbesis 
 
 sufferers from a severe flood which had devas- 
 tated the public tobacco warehouses. 
 
 The notes of Virginia like those of the other 
 colonies were often and successfully counter- 
 feited, although many special precautions were 
 taken to prevent it. 
 
 In Maryland and Virginia depreciation was the 
 least. This was not due to their superior 
 knowledge of the theory and workings of paper 
 money but was rather because with a good barter 
 currency and a comparatively large export trade 
 they had a good medium of exchange. The ex- 
 penses of the war, the most prolific cause of over- 
 issue, bringing an immediate demand for large 
 sums, these colonies escaped until a late period. 
 
 The first paper money in Georgia were bills of 
 exchange in small sums payable at sight drawn 
 on the trustees in London. These bills, prior to 
 the surrender of the charter by the trustees in 
 1752, had been mostly paid and money was then 
 lodged to meet those outstanding at par — a 
 rare incident in the history of paper money. 
 The new assembly met in 1755 and proposed a 
 paper loan of ^5,000 but this was rejected by the 
 Lords of Trade and the first issue under the new 
 government did not take place until 1760. 
 
 The history of paper money in Georgia from 
 this time up to the Revolution shows no features 
 of particular interest, the bills issued following 
 much the same career as did those in the other 
 colonies. 
 
 The following table giving the rate of exchange 
 
History of paper Currency 129 
 
 on London for ^"ioo sterling is of interest, giv- 
 ing some idea of the relative value of the paper 
 money of the different colonies. 
 
 1740 1748 
 
 New England . . 525 . 1,100 
 
 New York . . . 160 . 190 
 
 New Jersey . . . 160 . 180-190 
 
 Pennsylvania . . 170 . 180 
 
 Maryland . . . 200 . 200 
 
 North Carolina . . 1,400 . 1,000 
 
 South Carolina . . 800 . 750 
 
 Virginia . . . . .120-125 
 
 The history of colonial paper currency reveals 
 inconvertible paper money in great variety ; 
 there is that which is based on taxes, that secured 
 by mortgages on land, and that representing the 
 pure authority of the government. 
 
 Bills were issued to pay the expenses of the 
 war, for the annual needs of the government, 
 to furnish a circulating medium, and as loans at 
 a low rate of interest for the purpose of encour- 
 aging trade and industry. 
 
 The bills issued were of different kinds as re- 
 gards legal-tender qualities, but the tendency 
 was plainly toward non-interest-bearing notes 
 which were legal tender for all purposes. 
 
 The facts presented clearly show that the de- 
 preciation which these notes suffered was due, 
 not so much to large increase in quantity, as to 
 the fact that the safeguards which at first were 
 put around them were gradually withdrawn. The 
 taxes authorized were not collected, the time limit 
 
1 30 Sterling 1f>rl3e tlbesis 
 
 extended, bills were not redeemed when due, or 
 being redeemed were reissued without security. 
 "It is hard for an empty bag to stand upright." 
 When the restrictions were removed the bills 
 became mere waste paper. 
 
 The colonists assumed that they must have a 
 depreciated currency. A committee of the 
 Rhode Island assembly in 1749 announced as 
 the basis of their action respecting paper money: 
 " This will always be the case with infant 
 countries that do not raise so much as they con- 
 sume ; either to have no money, or if they have 
 it, it must be worse than that of their rich 
 neighbors in order to have it stay with them." 
 This conclusion was in part forced on them. 
 The great point of antagonism between England 
 and the colonies lay in the mercantile system 
 and its results. The paper currency of the col- 
 onial period came as a result of this system, the 
 alternative was barter currency, which though 
 safer, was inconvenient and was discarded by all 
 the colonies when once paper had been tried. 
 
 The legislation of England respecting the col- 
 onial paper and the instructions of the Lords of 
 Trade were beneficial to the colonies. They 
 saved the colonies from themselves. Yet this 
 restraint was not imposed because England 
 thought that inconvertible paper money was bad, 
 for the restrictions allowed it for war expenses 
 and often for the ordinary needs of government; 
 but these restrictions were imposed because 
 English merchants suffered and the proprietaries 
 
Kistorg of Ipaper Currency 131 
 
 wanted no reduction in the value of their quit-rents, 
 and because the right to issue money being con- 
 ceded the colonies soon demanded the right to 
 determine how it should be spent. The legisla- 
 tion was more for the purpose of checking the 
 growing power of the people than for the estab- 
 lishment of a sound currency. Says Mr. Bancroft : 
 "The policy itself was not repudiated. The 
 statesmen of England never proposed or de- 
 sired to raise the domestic currency of the colo- 
 nies to an equality with that of the great commercial 
 world; and the system which Franklin advocated 
 found an apologist in Pownall and was defended 
 by Burke, except that Burke, instead of a currency 
 of depreciated paper, proposed an emission of 
 base coin." 
 
 The history of colonial paper currency shows 
 very plainly the inefficacy of all legal-tender laws. 
 The proclamation of Queen Ann was of no 
 avail, money is not made by act of Parliament, 
 it exists under different laws. Nowhere is this 
 truth more clearly shown than in colonial history. 
 The forcing laws never did any good while they 
 made it legally possible that many should be 
 outrageously robbed. The desire for credit and 
 for money when they had none was as natural 
 for the colonies as it is for individuals, but the 
 only way for a country to have plenty of money 
 is to produce in abundance those things which 
 other countries desire and for which they will pay. 
 All legal-tender laws are a demand for a cheap 
 money, which means in the end the adoption of 
 
132 Darling ©rise Zbeete 
 
 rates of depreciation in order to legalize robbery. 
 The paper money issued during the civil war is 
 the only example we have where a people have 
 been saved from the last step which ends in 
 unlimited repudiation. 
 
 Guided by the experiences of the colonies and 
 the more recent as well as the more disastrous 
 experiment with the Continental money, it was 
 decided that no State had the right to issue bills 
 of credit and make them legal tender. This action 
 furnishes good ground for the statement that it 
 was also tacitly assumed that the central govern- 
 ment as well had no right to do this. 
 
 Nowhere can we find better examples of the 
 fundamental law of money, that a depreciated 
 currency drives out the better, than in the his- 
 tory of colonial paper money. Nearly every col- 
 ony learned in the school of experience that 
 paper added on account of the lack of coin 
 makes coin more scarce, that overissue cre- 
 ates an artificial deficiency, for whenever there 
 is a large increase in the quantity of money the 
 rise in price is more than proportional to this 
 on account of the uncertainty which then prevails. 
 
 New England and the South alike went to ex- 
 tremes in the issuing of paper money, while the 
 Middle colonies, trying the same experiment, 
 were more conservative. Rhode Island is the 
 best example (with the Carolinas a close second) 
 of the dangers which lie in paper money, and 
 the history of this colony shows most conclu- 
 sively "that a popular government when once 
 
MtetotE of fl>aper Currency 133 
 
 started after the ignis fatuus of paper money 
 cannot stop itself." The history of Connecticut 
 emphasizes this truth, for here we behold work- 
 ing the influence of bad examples. Although 
 she started with paper money issued only for 
 the expenses of the government, carefully se- 
 cured and promptly redeemed, the promiscuous 
 currency of the New England colonies soon de- 
 prived her of the due reward of this restraint, 
 and made her careless of her credit. The 
 Middle colonies likewise add their testimony. 
 Pennsylvania, careful, judicious, knowing the 
 results in the other colonies and seeking to avoid 
 them, under the magic influence of paper 
 money and the demand of special crises, is soon 
 led astray. In New York and New Jersey it is 
 true their first issues were for war expenses, but 
 their caution and conservative manner in which 
 they took up the loan system is strong evidence 
 that it was done only after careful reflection. 
 The history of their paper money was much 
 like that of Pennsylvania. Virginia and Mary- 
 land, both conservative, began their issues of 
 paper money at a later period only because the 
 special calls which had come so often and so 
 imperatively to the others came later to them. 
 In all the colonies we find that unlimited emis- 
 sion tends toward unlimited repudiation and 
 the proportion is a true one at every step. It can 
 not be denied that the first issues in most of the 
 colonies were made in good faith. How then can 
 we view the results save as the normal develop- 
 
i34 H>arltn0 ©rise Gbeste 
 
 ment of the inherent tendencies of paper money ? 
 Considering the great need which most of the 
 colonies had for large sums of money for im- 
 mediate use, and acknowledging what seemed to 
 be their inabilty to get it in any other way, we 
 might justify their first emissions of paper ; but 
 when we consider the sum total of the results, 
 we must condemn as fundamentally bad a sys- 
 tem which destroys trade and industry, hinders 
 the formation of capital, undermines the whole 
 social fabric, makes debt desired and even honor- 
 able, puts a premium on dishonesty, and brings 
 about a distribution of land and property in 
 which the main element is chance and justice 
 has no part. 
 
 [ Throughout the manuscript copy of the above Darling 
 Thesis frequent reference is made on each page to authorities 
 consulted in its preparation.] 
 
3un!or prise lEssaps 
 
 CONSCIENCE IN THE GREEK TRAGEDY 
 
 BY CURTIS MILLER, JR. 
 
 It was supposed that the palace of the Caesar's, 
 which was built strong with masonry and 
 heavy with stone, could be destroyed only by an 
 earthquake that would make tremble the seven 
 hills; but the tiny vines fostered by the gentle 
 wind and warm sun of an Italian summer struck 
 root between the huge blocks of granite and 
 marble and tossed them from their foundations. 
 So through Greek tragedy there runs a slender 
 vine, nurtured by the poet's realization of the 
 ideal — a vine, which removing earth, Olympus 
 and all the trappings of paganism showed the in- 
 ner, spontaneous nature of man — conscience, 
 that moral faculty under whose guiding and 
 directing power man is ever turned toward the 
 right. 
 
 The Greek was super-religious, hypo-ethical. 
 He trusted too much to fate and destiny, too 
 little to the heart and the conscience. His main- 
 spring of action was on Olympus, rather than in 
 his own soul. His religion was aesthetic, im- 
 aginative, poetical. It possessed few pure, prac- 
 tical, personal qualities. Hence matter was 
 higher than mind ; and conscience was smoth- 
 
136 Junior lPri3e Bssa^s 
 
 ered somewhat in wrappings of earthly ideas. 
 Its silent, ever-present voice had become hoarse 
 through the long cold ages of polytheism ; and 
 its utterances broke forth only now and again 
 in feeble whispers. 
 
 The Greek stage was the great pulpit. It 
 taught mythology, history, and ethics. It pleaded 
 the cause of justice, virtue, and honor. It de- 
 picted fate, the Furies, and the avenging de- 
 ities. Pure and inspiring as were often the 
 songs of the chorus, noble and lofty as were 
 often the soliloquies of the characters, swift and 
 sure as were the punishments for wrong, yet 
 grand as it all was the Greek tragedy failed to 
 show clearly the power, the nature, and the 
 workings of conscience. Here is one great con- 
 trast between the Greek and Christian religions. 
 With the Christian, if man obeys God, he is one 
 with God, if he is one with God, God's laws 
 become his laws, and he obeys only his in- 
 most soul, his conscience. With the Greek, 
 man was ever the creature of fate, ever sub- 
 servient to the counsel of the gods, ever a 
 target for the wrath of the Furies. The 
 Christian religion then, as taught by the Bible, 
 is a relation of man's conscience ; the Greek 
 religion, as taught by the tragedy, is a religion of 
 man's fate. One internal, the other external. 
 
 As the moon on a dark night appears re- 
 splendent with soft-reflected light which fades 
 only at the first break of dawn, so conscience in 
 the Greek tragedy shone in the darkness of pag- 
 
Conscience in (Sreeft £rageoE 137 
 
 anism and faded into insignificance only at the 
 dawn of glory, the rising of the sun of light. 
 Feeble however as conscience may seem in the 
 Greek tragedy when viewed by the light of the 
 Bible, yet it would be impossible not to see its 
 workings in almost every page of the great 
 masterpieces. /Eschylus, Sophocles, and Eurip- 
 ides all portayed to some extent the silent voice, 
 the guiding hand, the pang-causing tongue of 
 conscience. 
 
 y^schylus was the theological poet. He practi- 
 cally created the tragedy ; and in it moulded into 
 definite form the Greek's conception of religion — 
 a religion, beautiful in its interpretation of nature, 
 mighty in the absolute attributes of the gods, 
 awful in the never-propitiated wrath of the 
 Furies. He unveiled the human heart, sought 
 out the passions and traced them through their 
 labyrinth of intricate windings. He grasped the 
 conscience ; put it into the balance and weighed 
 it ; put it into the crucible and tested it ; tossed 
 it to the winds and sifted it, and pictured it an 
 active force in the character of Promethus. The 
 story of Promethus is based on an old fable. In 
 the war of the gods Promethus aided Jupiter in 
 casting Saturn from the throne of heaven. No 
 sooner does Jupiter become ruler of the universe 
 than he begins to show his tyrannical nature in 
 depriving men of food and fire. Promethus, in 
 the pity for mankind and in defiance of the 
 tyrant, steals fire from heaven and bears it to the 
 abodes of men. Enraged at thisjupiter condemns 
 
138 Junior lpri3e Bssa^s 
 
 him to be bound to a rock on Mount Caucasus, 
 there to expiate his crime. Here the tragedy 
 begins. Force and Violence, allegorical deities, 
 with heavy chains, bind Promethus to the rocks. 
 With taciturn bravery the old hero suffers these 
 injuries and insults and utters not a word. But 
 when all had departed, he loudly laments over 
 his unjust punishment. This brings a chorus of 
 sea nymphs who, like the friends of Job, come to 
 solace him in his trouble. Next, Ocean appears 
 on the scene and he, too, holds a dialogue 
 with Promethus strikingly similar in tone to that 
 between Job and Zophar. Then, lo enters. 
 Promethus foretells with poetic beauty, the long 
 wanderings through which he must pass, the 
 many trials which he must suffer, and tells to 
 her of the downfall of Jupiter, and hints that he 
 alone knows the means by which the catastrophe 
 may be averted. Last of all Mercury appears, 
 and tries to rend from Promethus by violence the 
 secret of so vital importance. Promethus, in the 
 nobleness and might of his character hurls open 
 defiance, stringing invective, and biting sarcasm, 
 at this envoy of despotic Jove. He frankly admits 
 his knowledge of the fatal facts and firmly as- 
 serts his determination not to reveal it until his 
 chains are lessened. Let Jove hurl his thunder- 
 bolts as he will. The thunderbolts are hurled ; 
 the heavens grow dark ; the rock whereon he 
 is fastened trembles and plunges bearing with it 
 its prisoner, into the depths of the infernal re- 
 gions. The picture reminds us of the awful 
 
Conscience in ©reel? TLxagebv no 
 
 convulsions of nature at the crucifixion on Calvary. 
 Where is the grandeur, the pathos, the ethics of 
 the poem ? "In the benevolence that refines, and 
 in the sublimity that elevates the soul of men ; 
 in the consciousness of rectitude that reposes on 
 itself independent of fortune ; in the glorious en- 
 ergy of spirit that resists oppression though 
 armed with omnipotence and in the fortitude that 
 rises superior to unmerited sufferings"; in the 
 character of Promethus, an upright man, whose 
 conscience escheweth evil. 
 
 Sophocles was the dramatic poet. " He 
 painted men as they ought to be." He dealt 
 more with the passions, less with the supernatural 
 elements. He taught men to fear when it was 
 meet to fear, and'to be brave when bravery was 
 required. While /Eschylus holds us high in the 
 mystic regions above our heads, or deep in the 
 darkness of fatalism beneath our feet ; Sophocles 
 bears us more into the inner regions of the human 
 heart. He exhibits the vicissitudes of life — 
 "Whatsoever has passion or admiration in all 
 the changes of that which is called fortune from 
 without or the wily subtleties and reflections of 
 man's thoughts from within." Hence, we find 
 in the tragedies of Sophocles a more perfectly 
 developed conscience than in those of Eschylus 
 and Euripides. 
 
 In Antigone, Sophocles has breathed out his 
 conception of the most beautiful of women, an ideal 
 Greek woman, she who carries "us beyond the 
 region of hereditary disaster into the more uni- 
 
mo 3-uniov IPri3e Essays 
 
 versal sphere of ethical casuistry." Who shall 
 say that she who was willing to face death that 
 her brother might not lie unburied on the Theban 
 plain, she who obeyed the 'higher law' rather 
 than the lower, she who submitted not to kings, 
 but to God alone — who shall say that she had 
 no conscience? The whole tragedy of Antigone 
 hinges on this one question, Shall a king, an 
 earthly power, or conscience, a divine revelation, 
 guide human conduct. The pathetic scene be- 
 tween the two sisters at the opening of the play; 
 Antigone pouring the libation and sprinkling 
 the dust over the body of her dead brother ; the 
 frank avowal of her intended disobedience before 
 King Creon ; the march to her living grave, 
 w ile she bewails sadly yet grandly her untimely 
 death, all are golden settings to make resplendent 
 with a dazzling light the gem of her conscience 
 void of offence. Like a statue by one of the old 
 Greek sculptors, perfect in symmetry, clear in 
 outline, beautiful almost beyond naturalness, 
 the inner soul of this noble maiden stands out a 
 masterpiece of art, a fit dwelling-place for 
 conscience. 
 
 In the tragedy of Electra there is presented to 
 us in Clytemnestra a woman almost void of con- 
 science, the very antithesis of Antigone. She ex- 
 ults in the slaying of her own husband, Agamem- 
 non, while she joins with /Egisthus in celebra- 
 ting with revelry and offerings to the gods the 
 anniversary of the murder. She fain would also 
 have murdered her own son Orestes that he 
 
Conscience in Greek tlrage&s 141 
 
 might not avenge his father ; and when the 
 report of his death comes she drinks in the tale 
 with joyous satisfaction. She casts her own 
 daughter, Electra, into degradation ; and gives 
 her the lowest place in the palace of which she 
 should have been queen. In all this, the con- 
 science of this murderess, adulteress, devilish 
 woman smites her not. She is worse than the 
 beasts of the field. Time goes on ; and one 
 night she sees a vision and dreams a dream. Aga- 
 in em non stands before her returned to life. He 
 ta kes his ancient sceptre from the hands of JEgis- 
 thus and plants it firmly in the earth. Instantly it 
 grows into a mighty tree whose broad-spreading 
 branches overshadow the whole land of Mycenae. 
 Terror fills her soul. She trembles; becomes con- 
 scious for a moment of her own wickedness. 
 Thus in the dark hours of the night when sleep 
 had placed the demons at disadvantage, conscience 
 steeled, smothered, seared, by the long, long years 
 of wickedness, arises, weak as it is, girds on its old 
 armor and deals her a blow which was the begin- 
 ing of the end. It knocked for the first time at 
 the tenth hour, but she opened not the door. It 
 was to her like a ship that passed in the night, in 
 the morn she saw it no more. 
 
 Euripides was the rhetorical poet. He appealed 
 to the emotions as the source of his ethics. He 
 chose stout-heartedness, steadfast endurance as 
 cardinal virtues and around these he wove a thread 
 of romance which touches and soothes the heart. 
 He was more of a philosopher than a theologist ; 
 
142 Junior P1I3C JBsaags 
 
 hence conscience, that ever-present deity seemed 
 to act a minor part on the tragedic stage of 
 Euripides. Let us view a scene in Hecuba. 
 Troy is fallen. The ghost of Achilles appears by 
 night and demands the sacrifice of Polyxena, the 
 daughter of Priam. Odysseus is sent to inform 
 Hecuba that her daughter must die to propitiate 
 the shades of the great hero. Hecuba reminds 
 Odysseus of the former days when she had dis- 
 covered him a disguised spy in Troy and at his 
 earnest entreaty had saved his life. In return for 
 this she now asks the life of her daughter. Odys- 
 seus, stern, wily, void of conscience, answers, 
 " True, lady, a life for a life. You saved mine, I 
 will do something to save yours ; but your 
 daughter is quite another person. I have not the 
 pleasure of having received benefits from her. 
 I must trouble her to follow me." Cold words, 
 coming from a heart unwarmed by conscience. 
 But mark Polyxena's answer. "I will arise and 
 follow thee, driven by strong need, yea, and 
 nothing loth to die." She remembers that she is 
 daughter of a king and is ready to die as befits 
 her noble birth. And see! on yon plain the 
 Argian host are assembled to see the princess sacri- 
 ficed. On her knees, throwing back her mantle, 
 she says to Achilles' son, 
 
 " Lo ! here my throat is ready for your sword ! 
 He willing not but willing, pity stirred 
 In sorrow for the maiden, with the blade 
 Severed the channels of her breath ; blood flowed ; 
 And she, though dying, still had thought to fall 
 
Conscience in ©reefe Grageog 143 
 
 In seemly wise hiding what eyes should see not. 
 
 But when she breathed her life out from the blow 
 
 Then was the Argive host in diverse way 
 
 Of service parted ; for some bringing leaves, 
 
 Strewed them upon the corpse ; some piled the pyre 
 
 Dragging pine trunks and boughs, and he who bore none 
 
 Heard from the Bearers many a bitter word : 
 
 1 Standest thou villain ? Hast thou then no robe, 
 
 No funeral honors for the maid to bring ? 
 
 Wilt thou not go and get for her who died 
 
 Most nobly, bravest soul, some gift? ' " 
 
 A most beautiful picture whose background is 
 tinted with the glorious colors of conscience — 
 tints beyond the power of human eye to dis- 
 tinguish, beyond the power of mind to interpret. 
 In this short passage there is summed up in less 
 than a score of verses all the attributes and phases, 
 the sadness and the pathos, the grandeur and 
 sublimity of conscience with which Euripides 
 colors his pictures. 
 
 The ancient tragedians made a distinction in 
 their estimation of human conduct. Some actions 
 they characterized as right, others as wrong. 
 They formulated a doctrine of theology based on 
 a well-defined conception of divine government 
 and "a well-considered theory of human respon- 
 sibility." They maintained that fate was sure, 
 inevitable, all-powerful, but that man had a part 
 in moulding his own fate. They grasped some- 
 thing of the idea, "Work out your own salva- 
 tion." And conscience was the pilot which 
 guided men along the river of fatal destiny. 
 Without that guiding power he might run upon 
 
1 44 junior fl>ri3e Bssags 
 
 the shoals of worldliness, or into the bayous of 
 physical, mental, and moral stagnation, or upon 
 the sharp-edged reefs where dwelt the Furies. 
 This dual idea was an electromotive force in the 
 targedies of /Eschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, 
 compelling and guiding human conduct. 
 
 We look with admiration upon the massive 
 strength of the Greek language ; we fix our 
 attention upon theunapproachable beauty of Greek 
 art ; we wonder at the awful magnitude of their 
 polytheistic religion ; and amid all this, we are 
 apt to overlook that, without which all would 
 be meaningless, the spiritual life of the Greek 
 wrought in coloring of conscience. Conscience, 
 that "spark of celestial fire," which is the in- 
 terpreter of the Greek tragedy ! 
 
THE CHARACTER OF HENRY V 
 
 AS SHOWN IN SHAKESPEARE'S 
 
 KING HEV^R Y IV AND KING HE^R Y V 
 
 BY CHARLES LATIMER MOSHER, '99 
 
 It is in the capacity of follower and friend that 
 I have endeavored to set forth here, the true 
 character of King Henry V. Perhaps as a friend 
 I have not made his fauits appear as gross as 
 they really were ; perhaps my great respect has 
 magnified his virtues. As a follower I have 
 tried to show him as I saw him. In all things I 
 have tried to be just. 
 
 Sir Thomas Erpingham. 
 
 I did not know overmuch about Prince Henry, 
 nor was over-interested in him, until it happened 
 that I heard the king lament the life and habits of 
 his son. The occasion was a report which he 
 received of Percy Hotspur's victory over Douglas, 
 the mighty Scot, which did enumerate in some 
 completeness, the many prisoners which he then 
 had taken. I saw the king turn from the joy of 
 this news, and heard him answer those who 
 queried at his sadness, that 'twas because the 
 thought had come to him, that this was Percy 
 who had done this thing, and that it should have 
 been Prince Henry. 1 heard him wish that 
 some night fairy had exchanged these two while 
 yet in cradle, that now he rightfully might claim 
 
146 junior ff>rf3e Bssags 
 
 a gallant warrior for his son and let the base- 
 turned prince go on his way. Then I began to 
 wonder at this prince, and not much later pri- 
 vately began to watch him, for I had hope that 
 the king, his father, might be wrong in his harsh 
 estimate. I had heard more than once, the method 
 of the king, in giving to his son no work of 
 state or interest in the realm, severly critisized, 
 and knowing the influences of an idle life, I 
 thought it more than probable that this young 
 prince's frowardness was but the fault of his 
 position, and that, on good occasion offering, he'd 
 show true mettle. 
 
 I do confess that when I first saw Falstaff 
 and found out that royalty had gone so low to 
 find its consorts, I was sorely troubled. Yet on 
 closer look the case improved ; for I saw that 
 the prince did treat this bunch of vices, not as 
 in any way his equal, but used him as a foil, 
 played with him. And often did I hear Prince 
 Henry rail at this man, call him bad names, 
 show forth the hugeness of his appetite for 
 food and other things, and then laugh in his 
 sleeve at the thin subterfuges with which this 
 butt would answer him. 
 
 Prince Henry did not revel in filth and rot- 
 tenness of life but found some pleasure in the 
 wit and bold abandon of those who did. And 
 yet I would not have you take him for a saint ; 
 and if you meet with any who would tell you 
 that he never touched the cup, or gleaned the 
 pleasures of "ambrosial sin, " give them the lie, 
 
ibenrE D in Sbaftespeare 147 
 
 for there's no doubt he did. Yet I would change 
 no whit from my position, that his chiefest 
 pleasure was not in the following of his all too 
 buoyant passions, but in studying others. 
 
 1 have seen it stated by some unworthy 
 miscreant, that as a youth this prince was devoid 
 of all honor, was a cutthroat and a thief as well 
 as a frequenter of low places. I will narrate one 
 of the instances on which these claims are based, 
 and show you that they offer no foundation for 
 such stories, save by perversion. 
 
 'Twas Poins, I think, who broached a plan by 
 which they should unite into a band of six, to 
 attack and strip a party of Canterbury pilgrims, 
 bearing rich offerings. The prince at once and 
 with no doubtful voice refused. "Who, I rob? 
 I, a thief? Not I, by my faith." Nor did he 
 change his word until the nature of the prank 
 had been explained by Poins, who turned it from 
 a crime against the travelers, to a joke on Falstaff. 
 For after Falstaff and his three have robbed the 
 pilgrims the prince and Poins will rob them, 
 and as Poins put it, "The virtue of this jest 
 v/ill be in the incomprehensible lies that this 
 same fat rogue will tell us when we meet at 
 supper." This madcap scheme was just the 
 kind to much attract our jolly prince and he ac- 
 cepted it. They carried it out without a hitch. 
 Falstaff and his followers robbed the pilgrims ; 
 the prince and Poins scared them from their 
 plunder ; and when at supper they had listened 
 long enough to the tales of his wondrous deeds 
 
148 junior fl>ri3e JEssa^s 
 
 from this same John, they revealed their part, 
 and asked that knight of the hacked sword how 
 he would explain away his cowardice. The 
 wily fellow vowed he knew " Prince Hal " and 
 fled because he would not bout with royalty. 
 Prince Henry paid the money back with some- 
 thing more. I know not whether Poins would 
 have done so, and know that Falstaff would 
 have kept it gladly ; but the prince gave it 
 back. 
 
 'Twas not the criminal in these low amuse- 
 ments that attracted him, but the people, their 
 wit, their banter ; he enjoyed mingling in the 
 accident and danger common to their lives, but, 
 unless he sought it, unknown to his. 
 
 Though he seemed to allow great familiarity 
 among these people toward him, I heard him 
 call old Falstaff to a sharp account. 'Twas after 
 the robbery when Sir John yet thought that 
 Henry had not been there, and called him coward. 
 "Zounds, ye fat paunch, an' ye call me coward ; 
 by the Lord, I'll stab thee." Half banter and 
 more perhaps, yet it showed me what Prince 
 Henry thought of cowards and from that time 
 I believed that he had something in him. 
 
 That this young prince did understand the 
 wrong and folly of his course I early knew ; 
 and often he said things which told me of a 
 coming change. One day 1 heard him talking as 
 if in answer to the upbraidings of his father or to 
 the prickings of his conscience. " I know these 
 men with whom I play," he said, "and yet 
 
fbenrv tD in Sbafcespeare '4') 
 
 awhile will tarry with them in their idle sports." 
 "Herein will I imitate the sun, and having hid- 
 den behind these clouds until that time when I 
 am heeded, then will I break forth, and throw- 
 ing off this loose behavior which hath covered 
 me, will redeem myself and shine more brightly 
 by the contrast." He reasoned that they would 
 expect but little from such an one ; how much 
 greater the surprise, when he should turn from 
 low things to the highest nobleness. 
 
 That a youth with such good spirit should so 
 trouble a royal father I would not say was right. 
 Yet note how often that same spirit which sets 
 young heads to doing maddest deeds, has been 
 the proof of an energy, which when guided by 
 the experience of years, has won the greatest 
 battles. 
 
 When Prince Henry was given chance to de- 
 fend himself and his position by his father, his 
 first words in answer showed his feelings in the 
 matter. He said, "So please your majesty, I 
 would I could quit all offences with as clear ex- 
 cuse, as well as, doubtless, I can purge myself 
 of many I am charged withal." He saw a fault 
 in that he was misunderstood, and sorely blamed 
 for what was not a grievous wrong. He felt 
 that had he been a common man he would not 
 have been called upon to answer, what to him 
 were harmless pranks. Never had he made his 
 spirit recognize the duties and restrictions which 
 his birth had placed upon him. 
 
 The change that came in Harry when his aid 
 
■ 5o Junior fl>r(3e Bssass 
 
 was asked for by his father, and when he felt 
 the weight of responsibility, showed me at once 
 that under his careless exterior was a strong 
 manhood. King Henry IV did most severely 
 chide his wayward son, and told him that there 
 was no cause for putting faith in him, and that 
 now, with the war on, he would not think it 
 strange to see him fighting 'gainst his father 
 with bold Hotspur. With dignity did Harry 
 then tell his unknowing father to await the event, 
 and let him prove himself. Blood should wash 
 out the shame of his unthinking years, and when 
 he should meet this gallant Percy, then would 
 death or victory show his honor. I think I see 
 the noble youth, standing before that none too 
 easy sire, and vowing that his deeds from thence 
 shall bring no stain upon his lineage. There are 
 the lines of a new expression in his face, as from 
 a thoughtless boy he straight becomes an earnest 
 man of purpose. 
 
 Another time when I did note the valor of this 
 youth, as yet untried, was when with facing 
 armies they awaited battle ; and he, remembering 
 in his words the common soldiers whose lives 
 the event of clashing arms would take, offered 
 to try single combat with Percy Hotspur, that 
 thus the issue might be learned and the blood of 
 all but two remain unspent. 
 
 When the two armies met, with watchful 
 care all through the struggle Prince Henry kept 
 near by his father. His valiant spirit, showing 
 to the full now under stress, made noble stand 
 
fbenn? ID in Sbaftespeare 151 
 
 against all comers. He sees Douglas and his 
 father fight, and when the practiced Scot is 
 gaining, it is Prince Henry's sword that saves 
 his majesty and drives back Douglas. But he 
 has hotter work to do, for here comes Hotspur, 
 and these two, each hunting for the other, are 
 at it to the death. They thrust and strike, they 
 strike to kill, and this ill-thought-of prince 
 doth wield his sword full well. He sees a chance, 
 and Hotspur, conqueror in unnumbered combats, 
 sinks down and dies. The honor and the 
 prowess of Prince Henry are no longer ques- 
 tioned. 
 
 I now have shown you that our prince was 
 brave ; that at his father's call he put away the 
 ease of early days, and got himself the stern ex- 
 terior of war ; that he was nothing daunted at 
 the fierce onslaught of Harry Percy, whom his 
 father had preferred before him. 
 
 That Harry felt some shame at his too easy 
 former life, I know from what he said on hear- 
 ing of his father's illness. He talked but idly 
 and showed no sorrow on his cheek. The reason 
 why, he later did unfold to Poins. "What 
 wouldst thou think of me if I should weep?" 
 "That thou wert a princely hypocrite," was 
 Poins reply. Though keenly feeling in his heart 
 the illness of his father, he recognized that the 
 company he had kept laid him open to the sus- 
 picion of being but a vile fellow, wishing for his 
 father's death on account of the gain of a king- 
 dom which would come with it. 
 
1 52 Junior prise Bssa^s 
 
 1 noticed too that now, his mind all filled with 
 great and worthy projects, he was full short with 
 Sir John Falstaff when that one accosted him. 
 The vulgar gibe that time before had pleased our 
 prince, passed by unnoticed, and without waste 
 of words Sir John was frowned upon. Another 
 time, coming on Falstaff skulking in the rear, 
 more harshly he berated him, and showed him 
 that the time for jest was over. But lest you 
 should judge him as unthinking, I will tell you 
 what he said when he came upon Sir John and 
 took him to be dead. "I could have spared a 
 better man." There was still in his heart a spot 
 for that old vagabond, attractive in his great 
 unworthiness. 
 
 'Tis seldom that good news maketh ill, but 
 when the Earl of Westmoreland brought word that 
 all the rebels had been overcome, his majesty 
 from hearty health fell down into a swoon. Prince 
 Henry had not come when this occurred, and on 
 arriving, was led directly to his father, who lay 
 to all appearance quite unconscious. He saw 
 the golden crown lying on the pillow ; he 
 bethought him of the sorrow, and the watching, 
 the toil and anguish of which that brilliant 
 circlet was the symbol, the sleepless nights that 
 were its wearer's doom ; that circlet now was 
 his, for breathless lay his father and the feather that 
 chanced by his mouth stirred not. Prince Henry 
 thought him dead, put on the crown and went 
 away to weep out his sorrow for his father and his 
 king. But Henry IV was not yet ready to leave 
 
Mennj ID in Sbafcespeare 15? 
 
 his earthly kingdom ; he moved, missed his 
 crown and called his councilors. He discovered 
 that the prince had come, and going had taken 
 the crown with him. How black a thing it 
 seemed to the old king as he thought of this 
 young prince, ready with shameful greed to 
 snatch his father's sceptre ere his hand relaxed 
 from it ! "Wherefore did he take away the 
 crown ?" The awful thought that Harry's filial 
 love was but the obedience that awaits reward 
 turned day to night. The prince came back and 
 they were left alone. With what sad tears the 
 stricken Harry excused his much mistaken 
 aclion, was afterward related to me. They 
 heard him say, "I never thought to hear thee 
 speak again," and the king's stern answer, 
 "Thy wish v/as father, Harry, to that thought." 
 The king was sorely wounded, for no doubt had 
 he that Harry's act but served to show his undue 
 haste ; and roundly did he give rebuke to that 
 offending son whose choking throat forbade all 
 explanation. At last the prince told how he 
 had come ; had taken him for dead ; how he 
 had blamed the crown for wearing out his 
 father's body ; how he had taken it as being 
 his filial duty, as the royal heir, to take up that 
 burden as his father laid it down. Full well he 
 plead his cause, and ere he finished the dying 
 heart of Henry IV was filled with never-doubt- 
 ing love, for this his son who now was proved 
 all worthy. 
 
 King Henry IV is dead. Long live King 
 
1 54 junior iP»ri3C Essays 
 
 Henry V. 
 
 I have now shown you that Prince Henry 
 was filled with dutiful regard for Henry IV. 
 Still further would I show his worth by point- 
 ing out his manly course as he took up his 
 father's cares and assumed the throne of England. 
 
 The Lord Chief Justice had, in Harry's youth, 
 with boldness well becoming his high office, 
 when that rash youth had struck him, without 
 fear committed him to prison. He now 
 waited anxiously to see if this young king would 
 spitefully revenge himself or would show such 
 largeness of heart as would be needed to forgive 
 the acT. The princes and advisers of the court 
 had received of late many proofs of Harry's 
 greatness, but were scarce prepared for the good 
 judgment that he showed them then. The 
 noble king commended the action of the Justice, 
 and returned him to his office with the promise 
 that he would look to him for guidance and 
 advice as to a father. 
 
 That revelry and foolishness were to be no 
 more connected with him, King Henry most 
 emphatically showed by his treatment of Falstaff , 
 Pistol, and their crowd. They came with Fal- 
 staff in the lead thinking to fill their greedy 
 stomachs with the king's goods. They were 
 discomfited indeed, he would not know them, 
 and they were sent away to mend their man- 
 ners. 
 
 Not always have great kings, when they 
 have felt a liking to bring war upon their 
 
ftlenn? W in Sbaftespeare 155 
 
 neighbors, nicely considered the right and justice 
 of the matter. Since the well-remembered days 
 of that great Edward and the Black Prince, the 
 royal line of England had cherished a strong 
 hope of winning from the French the lands to 
 which their lineal descent gave them some title. 
 Among the much advice which Henry IV had given 
 to his son, he told him that to gain peace and con- 
 tentment in his realm at home, he should busy 
 the complaining of his subjects with some great 
 foreign enterprise. Thus was Henry V, by nature 
 no poor weakling, not averse to a campaign which 
 should win the lands to which he had a claim. Yet 
 before he made a final settlement, whether the ex- 
 pedition should go or not, the king ordered the 
 archbishop to clearly set forth the right of Eng- 
 land to the throne of France. He charged him 
 that he bring no false unfounded arguments to 
 bear, for it were sin, he said, for two such 
 nations to contend without well-founded reasons. 
 At that time Canterbury was wishing for some 
 outer quarrel, that should turn the common 
 minds of England from the church, which seemed 
 to many all too rich in her possessions. He 
 well established Henry's foreign title. "The 
 Salique land upon whose law the French had 
 based their firm denial of his claim, was not 
 France, and hence did the law not apply." 
 The prelate further showed that oft times kings 
 of France had made their titles good, by joining 
 to themselves in marriage some lady of the royal 
 line ; and such an act was but to nullify the 
 
156 Junior Ipvise Besags 
 
 Salique law. Hence Edward's claim was just, 
 and his descendant Henry did not unjustly act 
 if he made answer to King Charles' denial of his 
 right, with bloody war. 
 
 It is as much a mark of greatness for a king 
 to punish wrong where punishment is just, as it 
 can be to pity and forgive where good may 
 come of it. We must halt a moment on our 
 way to France, that I may tell you of a foul con- 
 spiracy against the life of England's monarch. 
 An intercepted letter brought the king the 
 grave intelligence that three of his most trusted 
 councilors had sold themselves to France. 
 More than by the danger was King Henry troub- 
 led, that those who held his perfect faith should 
 basely turn against him. When, in answer to 
 his questions, they had shown no mercy for 
 some meaner criminal, with their own words 
 did he condemn them. 
 
 But now to France ! Twas there under the 
 trials of attack and siege, under the anxiousness 
 which comes to leaders of great enterprises, that 
 I saw the real worth and sterling character of 
 this king. No lagging leader he ; in front and 
 urging, pointing to the breach, with steady cry 
 and with inspiring cheer he led his men. On ! 
 Up ! They went. Whate'er the struggle and 
 however great the odds, they conquered. 
 
 To brave, resisting Harfleur he offered honor- 
 able terms if she would but give o'er, and yield- 
 ing, put away the horrors of a long death strug- 
 gle. He promised that no taunt should greet 
 
1benr£ D in Sbaftespeare 157 
 
 the fallen ; that no exultant army should dishonor 
 them. To all who in their folly should disregard 
 his orders 'gainst all desecration, a speedy death 
 he promised. The conquered were treated by 
 him with all gentleness. He had no malice. 
 Valor in the enemy, he felt, was just as noble as 
 among his own. 
 
 When before Agincourt the danger of their 
 position weighed on the spirits of his advisers, 
 he told them that the fewer men the greater 
 honor vi&ory brought, and if 'twas God's will 
 that they die, there were enough. His trust ! it 
 was in God and honest English hearts. Who 
 counted numbers ? 
 
 Yet even in a time of danger the spirit 
 which engendered the wild happenings of his 
 youth did not forsake him ; he passed unknown 
 through his camp and talked to the men, defend- 
 ing the king, and showing reasons for his vari- 
 ous acts. One night I found him picking a good- 
 natured quarrel with a common soldier, and in the 
 morning, saw him turn over the blow which had 
 been promised him, to old Fluellen, and enjoy with 
 old-time humor, the little joust which came of it. 
 
 There is no need for me to tell the story of 
 Agincourt, that wondrous victory ; you know 
 it well. It gave King Henry V a fame most 
 enviable. It proved him great not in his courage 
 only, but in good judgment too. 
 
 When he had learned the extent of his great 
 victory I heard him give his thanks to God as 
 the cause and reason of it all. And then in that 
 
158 junior pri3e JEsmye 
 
 same breath that started forth his army toward 
 the village, Agincourt, I heard him promise 
 death to any who should boast, or fail the thanks 
 for this most great success, to give to God. 
 
 And now you know this king as I knew him, 
 for I have tried to picture him, not magnified or 
 lessened, but as I saw him. Judge him as ye 
 will ; but if the love and pride of subjects, the 
 goodwill of followers, the respect of all the nations 
 that he knew, shall count for anything, then 
 look upon him as a king, most truly noble. 
 
Sopbomore fl>ri3e lEsea^e 
 
 THE IDEALS OF WHITMAN AND OF 
 WHITTIER 
 
 BY WILLIAM GRANT DECKER, OO 
 
 The ideal has always had a wide influence as 
 well in the real benefits that it gives to the prac- 
 tical affairs of men as in the elevating and enno- 
 bling literature of which it is the soul and strength. 
 Strip art of ideals and there remains nothing but 
 caricature. Take from the poet his ideals, and 
 it is of little use to leave him his imagination. 
 These United States would have had no exist- 
 ence were it not for the conception of an ideal 
 state in the minds of Washington and Hamilton 
 and their associates. Religion bereft of ideals 
 would be a mockery, and the teachings of the 
 Christ an object of ridicule for the world of 
 unbelievers. We could worship no god since 
 we could conceive of nothing greater or 
 nobler or purer than our earthly surroundings 
 and ourselves. 
 
 As the ideal plays a part of such importance in 
 common affairs, so in literature, where its func- 
 tion is chiefly to arouse and shape and elevate 
 the imaginations of the people ; and especially 
 in poetry, where are embodied the noblest and 
 
160 Sopbomove lPri3e JEsea^s 
 
 most beautiful thoughts of some of our sublimest 
 thinkers, its influence cannot be overestimated. 
 Through a study of Tennyson there has grown 
 up a more catholic sympathy with the problems 
 and phases of modern life. To Bryant we can 
 trace a loftier life patriotism, deeper and finer 
 emotions, a firmer and stronger religion. To 
 Milton we are indebted for one of the grandest 
 religious conceptions that has ever appealed to 
 the imagination of man. 
 
 In Whitman and in Whittier, more than in other 
 poets, are incorporated ideals dear to our broadest 
 and most liberally minded men, and destined to 
 become stronger and more influential as the States 
 increase in influence and in strength. The ideals 
 of Whitman were primarily democracy and 
 patriotism, of Whittier, humanity and religion ; 
 of the one, what appeals most to the physical 
 senses, of the other, what is most closely related 
 to the soul and intellect. The origin of both was 
 humble ; their childhood and youth were alike 
 hampered by parental poverty. Both were born 
 in the early days of the republic and lived 
 through the best part of the century following 
 its establishment. Whitman was sprung from 
 the hardy Dutch-English stock, Whittier was de- 
 scended from the devout Quakers of New 
 England. Both received the education offered 
 by the common schools of the early twenties ; 
 both were thrown, at a tender age, upon their 
 own resources. Each resolved in early youth to 
 devote his life to the improvement of the condi- 
 
Wbitman anfc TMbittier 161 
 
 tion of his fellow men, and each was fitted for 
 his purpose. 
 
 Whitman spent several years in mastering the 
 art of printing, meanwhile devoting much of 
 his leisure to writing for local papers. He soon 
 tired, however, of the confinement demanded by 
 his profession, and being naturally of a roving 
 disposition with a dislike for hard work and steady 
 employment, left home to become a sort of 
 journeyman printer, moving from place to place 
 and earning only sufficient for a bare subsistence. 
 In this way he traveled over the greater part of 
 his own country, visited many of our principal 
 cities, met on terms of equality all conditions of 
 men, and became familiar with the whole. -As 
 a result, he was enabled in later years to discuss 
 understanding^ the needs and merits of the 
 American people, the various phases of our 
 democratic institutions, the beauties and phe- 
 nomena of a most bountiful nature and the per- 
 fect harmony, through the workings of natural 
 laws, of all things which science and philosophy 
 have united to make so incomprehensible. 
 
 The publication of a small collection of Whit- 
 man's poems first brought him to public atten- 
 tion. This collection was afterwards en- 
 larged from time to time, and with that called 
 "Walt Whitman," comprises his best produc- 
 tions. In ' ' Leaves of Grass " is found the general 
 plan of all the poet's work ; his future efforts 
 were spent in amplifying and enlarging his orig- 
 inal theme. 
 
1 62 Sopbomore Prl3e JE&s&ys 
 
 The first principle laid down by Whitman is 
 an ideal democracy, the equality of all men. 
 He insists that one man is in every way the 
 equal of every other, that even God is not of 
 more account to one than one's self. The em- 
 ployed is as good as his employer, the laborer as 
 good as the . man of refinement and wealth. 
 This principle of equality is vigorously and forci- 
 bly set forth by Whitman, and is varied only by 
 his treatises upon nature and her fundamental 
 laws. With this subjeft he was thoroughly 
 conversant, having spent the greater part of his 
 life in the open air, and having always been sus- 
 ceptible to impressions of the grand and the beau- 
 tiful. Some of our finest word-pictures of beauti- 
 ful sceneries were made by his pen, while he 
 also did much to reconcile in the public mind 
 the discoveries of recent years with the workings 
 of the natural laws governing the universe. 
 
 The nobility of his purpose is everywhere 
 manifest in Whitman's works nor can it be denied 
 that a large degree of success attended his efforts. 
 The depth of grossness to which he sometimes 
 descended was due in a large measure to the 
 narrowness of his education, and not at all to his 
 own obliquity. The most prejudiced would 
 scarcely dare affirm that Whitman was by nature 
 coarse, or that he would not rather have avoided 
 subjects which must necessarily expose him to 
 odium and contumely. 
 
 Whittier, like Whitman in many ways, fol- 
 lowed a different bent. While still a boy, he 
 
Wbitman an& 1IMbittt«r 163 
 
 gave attention to literature and contributed to the 
 publications of his native place. Receiving en- 
 couragement, he increased his efforts and the 
 editorship of a country paper was his reward. 
 Here he made a quick and brilliant success and 
 was rapidly called to the management of various 
 other and larger publications. Thus he continued 
 for several years, giving his time to journalism, 
 but inclining more and more to poetry. Mean- 
 while William Lloyd Garrison came into promi- 
 nence with his antislavery agitation. Whittier 
 was at once drawn to this cause. Neglecting all 
 else he joined the band of agitators, and very 
 soon became their most influential editorial con- 
 tributor. 
 
 For thirty years and more he gave no thought 
 to literature as literature, but turned his attention 
 to succoring oppressed and suffering mankind. 
 '"Uelenda est Carthago, Slavery must and shall 
 be destroyed," was the watchword of the little 
 band, and no Philippic was ever uttered more 
 violent in its invective or more fiery in its elo- 
 quence than the furious poems that rushed resist- 
 less and unceasing from the pen of Whittier. 
 He was approaching his ideal. 
 
 Some of Whittier' s poems written at this time 
 are matchless productions. Haste in preparation 
 mars the greater part of them, but this was due 
 rather to the urgent demands of the times than 
 to any failing of the poet. After the close of 
 the great struggle and the consummation of his 
 ideal, Whittier again engaged in poetry as an 
 
io4 Sopbomore IPrf 3c Bssa^s 
 
 art, and in his later works, there is a marked 
 absence of those faults so evident in his earlier 
 poems. All through his works, there is a 
 religious strain, and this, in connection with his 
 discrimination of ideas and delicacy of expression 
 does much to leave that impression of simplicity 
 and purity which is so distinctive of Whittier. 
 
 In studying the lives and works of Whitman 
 and of Whittier, the influence of the ideal is 
 everywhere manifest. His great patriotism led 
 Whitman to devote his poetical genius to mak- 
 ing his countrymen more patriotic. His sympa- 
 thy for mankind, and especially for the weak and 
 oppressed, led Whittier to spend long years of 
 untiring energy in trying to remove the curse of 
 slavery from four million bondmen. 
 
 The ideals of Whitman and of Whittier were the 
 ruling motives of their lives, and were incorpo- 
 rated in every bone and fibre of their being. It 
 was not because of any mere theory that Whit- 
 man sacrificed health and happiness to lend a 
 helping hand in the fever-infecled hospitals of 
 Washington during our civil war. No fine senti- 
 ment expressed in pretty phrase induced Whittier 
 to devote the best part of his life to a cause 
 which for years stamped its supporters as fanatics 
 and drove them out of society. It would have 
 been possible for both to choose ways less harsh 
 and steep by which to attain their ideals, but no 
 one can deny the vast amount of good that each 
 did in his own way. They both were forerunners 
 of a broader, deeper, and more humane civilization, 
 the beacon lights of a new phase of Christianity. 
 
JOAN OF ARC IN HISTORY AND IN 
 LITERATURE 
 
 BY HERSCHEL DORSEY SPENCER, OO 
 
 At the present time when we see and hear so 
 much discussion about woman's rights, woman 
 suffrage, and the so-called "new woman," a 
 study of the character of Joan of Arc, one of the 
 pioneers in the broader field of woman's activity, 
 might be both interesting and instructive. For 
 such a study, leaving out of account tradition 
 which must by this time have become almost 
 worthless, we have two sources of information — 
 history and literature. But here, too, we are 
 apt to be struck by the contradictory statements 
 and to be forcibly impressed with the uncertainty 
 even of written records, for of no other part of 
 French history, perhaps, has there been so great 
 a diversity of accounts as of that which comprises 
 the iife and actions of Joan of Arc. 
 
 After we have exhausted these available sources 
 of information we are led to conclude that we 
 have been reading simply an accumulation of 
 individual opinions and to feel that as long as it 
 is only a matter of opinion, our opinion is as 
 good as any. Yet as always in forming an 
 opinion we are influenced by what we have 
 read and by the general optimistic tendency of 
 all human thinking. It is in forming such an 
 
1 60 Sophomore U>it3e JBssn^s 
 
 optimistic opinion that we feel the influence of 
 the literature on Joan of Arc, and conversely, it is 
 probably this optimistic tendency that has colored 
 this literature. 
 
 In the essential details of a life narrative, such as 
 the date and place of birth, the chief events in 
 the life, and the date and place of death, most his- 
 torians agree with regard to Joan of Arc. It is 
 only when we go deeper and seek character and 
 motives that the discrepancy appears. 
 
 Joan of Arc (in French, Jeanne d'Arc), the 
 Maid of Orleans, properly Jeanneta Dare, was 
 born in the village of Domremy about 141 1. 
 Her childhood and training were not unlike that 
 of other girls of her time. At this time there 
 was a war with England growing out of the 
 claims of its king, Henry the Fifth, to the French 
 throne ; and, in this struggle, France itself be- 
 came divided into two factions, the one support- 
 ing the pretender and the other supporting the 
 lawful heir Charles the Seventh. The citizens of 
 Domremy favored the dauphin and Joan longed 
 to see him crowned king of France. Finally 
 when the English, aided by the Burgundians, 
 had obtained possession of all the important 
 strongholds with the exception of the city of 
 Orleans and this seemed about to succumb, Joan 
 felt herself called upon, summoned by her 
 "voices," as she said, to go to the relief of the 
 beleaguered city and to make possible the cus- 
 tomary coronation. She succeeded in gaining an 
 audience with the king, and, as all historians 
 
Joan of arc 167 
 
 agree, singled him out from among his courtiers, 
 although he had purposely disguised himself. 
 After much litigation a small army was given 
 Joan with which she proceeded to Orleans, and 
 after several slight encounters in which the Eng- 
 lish seemed to lose all courage, raised the siege. 
 After a few more engagements, in which she 
 was successful, Joan persuaded Charles to be 
 crowned at Rheims. The task she had given 
 herself was now completed but she was prevailed 
 upon to remain. She had no success however 
 after the coronation and was soon captured and 
 given over to the English. The English sur- 
 rendered her to a church tribunal for trial, and 
 she was convi&ed of heresy and burned at the 
 stake, at Rouen, May 30, 1831. 
 
 Thus far all historians are in accord. In the 
 matter of character and motives, and the nature 
 of her works and the power by which they 
 were done, they disagree very much. In general 
 the treatment accorded Joan of Arc by historians 
 might be put under two heads, that granted her by 
 French historians, and that by foreign, especially 
 English and German. The French, as is apt to 
 be the case with any national hero or heroine, 
 are inclined to exaggerate the character and 
 achievements of Joan of Arc, and some of them, 
 perhaps the majority, would ascribe her successes 
 to supernatural power ; would consider them as 
 miracles. English and German historians, on 
 the other hand, although they do not at all 
 underrate her achievements, and consider the 
 
i-68 Sopbomore prije Basags 
 
 raising of the siege of Orleans one of the most 
 important events in French history, attach little 
 importance to her belief in " voices " and super- 
 natural agencies, considering it, if they consider 
 it at all, simply as fanaticism, and treat her 
 as a woman with a wonderful natural ability 
 and a great force of character, the novelty of 
 whose entrance upon the scene of conflict was 
 largely instrumental in obtaining for her the suc- 
 cesses she gained. Some even go further and al- 
 most deny her very existence, claiming that she 
 was a puppet raised up by the king and nobles to 
 play upon the superstitions of the people and 
 rouse their failing courage. 
 
 For the most part, however, English and 
 Germans consider Joan of Arc, or the Maid of 
 Orleans, as she is more commonly known by 
 them, as a girl of upright and noble character, 
 with a wonderful tenacity of purpose, who did 
 indeed accomplish wonderful results in a field 
 hitherto almost unknown to woman, and further- 
 more, they sympathize with her in the treatment 
 which she received at the hands of an ungrateful 
 king and a fanatic clergy. 
 
 This treatment by the English and German 
 historians explains in part the character given joan 
 of Arc by the English and German authors and 
 poets. Her life and the legends connected with 
 it and the halo of mystery surrounding it and 
 the international character of the events in which 
 she played an important part, the very uncertainty 
 of any records relating to her life, offer to the 
 
3-oanotBrc 169 
 
 writer a very favorable opportunity for play of 
 imagination and for display of genius in con- 
 structing and depicting whatever conception he 
 may have formed. 
 
 These numerous advantages have not been at 
 all overlooked and Joan of Arc has been made 
 the subject of dramatic and poetical compositions 
 by writers of nearly every nationality. This sub- 
 ject, moreover, has been considered worthy of 
 treatment by the best writers of these various 
 nationalities. Yet it is worthy of note that, in 
 spite of its wonderful resources, no writer owes 
 his fame to his treatment of this subject or has 
 his fame usually been materially heightened 
 thereby. An exception might perhaps be made 
 in the case of Schiller and, from a literary stand- 
 point, his Jungfrau von Orleans is probably the 
 best production based upon this character. 
 
 Schiller's conception of Joan of Arc is very 
 lofty and noble, and in this drama, which is al- 
 most a tragedy, he represents her as a real 
 prophetess. His idea in writing the Jungfrau was 
 to vindicate the character of the Maid of Orleans, 
 which had been so rudely and so basely depicted 
 by Voltaire in his Pucelle, and had been drawn 
 with so much national prejudice by Shakespeare 
 in his Henry VI. Schiller does not always follow 
 the historical account, the most marked deviation 
 being at the close in the manner of her death. 
 
 Another important epic is the Joan of zArc of 
 Southey. Southey was farther removed from the 
 events and the feelings they aroused than 
 
170 Sopbomore Prise JEsaaEs 
 
 Shakespeare and his production, therefore, shows 
 little if any prejudice or political coloring. In 
 fact he simply treats the subject poetically, as 
 being peculiarly fit for poetical effects. His idea 
 of her character is that which prevails among 
 modern historians, that she was earnest, sincere, 
 upright and virtuous, and that she was possessed 
 of a wonderful enthusiasm. He considers her 
 career one of the most remarkable in history. 
 
 The productions of Shakespeare, Southey, 
 Voltaire, and Schiller are the most important 
 poetical works upon this subject. Numerous 
 lives of Joan of Arc have been written, a great part 
 of which have been liberally interspersed with 
 the original ideas of the writers. Of late many 
 prose narratives have appeared which take her life 
 for a subject. Some of these are humorous ; 
 yet as a rule, they all tend to aid in drawing, 
 with all the minute details, the noble and almost 
 ideal conception of her character which has 
 gradually been formed in the minds of the read- 
 ing public. 
 
 After we have let our reason dwell upon the 
 historical account of the life of Joan of Arc, 
 after we have allowed our feelings to be played 
 upon by the fancies of the poets and of the writers 
 of fiction, the final estimate which we form of 
 this character depends largely, of course, upon 
 the individual, upon religious and political belief 
 and upon general intelligence. Yet as we con- 
 sider all things more closely and more impar- 
 tially, as we become further removed from 
 
5oanofBrc 17' 
 
 causes of prejudice, as we become more relig- 
 iously tolerant, we are inclined to consider Joan of 
 Arc as a great and noble woman, far in advance of 
 her time, whose nature, though possessing noth- 
 ing of the supernatural, was divinely human, 
 and who, in the words of the king, was "a 
 martyr to her religion, her country, and her king." 
 
jfresbman jprije i£s0av>$ 
 
 MICHAEL FARADAY 
 
 BY HOWARD IRVING DAVENPORT, 'OI 
 
 In order to appreciate Faraday as a discoverer 
 we should remember that the greater part of 
 what the world now knows about electricity, 
 magnetism, and the chemical phenomena relating 
 to these, has been discovered by the investigators 
 of the early part of this century. 
 
 Before the time of these investigators, Davy, 
 Dalton, Faraday, and their contemporaries, we 
 find comparatively few established facts ; but a 
 large number of undemonstrated theories, not 
 only in regard to electricity and magnetism but 
 in other lines as well, filled the minds of 
 scientists. 
 
 Heat, for example, was supposed to be a sub- 
 stance ; it was afterward proved to be a physical 
 force, a motion of particles. Electricity was 
 thought of by some as a fluid, by others as two 
 fluids of different sorts which, when combined, 
 gave curious effects. Magnetism was a peculiar- 
 ity or eccentricity of a few kinds of matter, which 
 was able to infect other kinds by friction or by 
 long cohabitation. Magnetism and electricity 
 were, in a vague sort of a way, supposed to have 
 some relation to each other. 
 
/IRicbael JFara&a^ 17? 
 
 In addition to these theories not yet proved, 
 the chemist and the physicist were at strife with 
 each, other. The former said, "All matter 
 which seems to us so different from some other 
 matter, is, in reality, different." The latter said, 
 " All matter is alike, but seen in different condi- 
 tions and circumstances it leads us to think that 
 there are different kinds." The chemist said, 
 " All matter obeys a law peculiar to its class." 
 The physicist said, " All matter obeys the same 
 law." 
 
 Thus the world might have been contending 
 in two factions had it not been for a few philos- 
 ophers, champions of the unity of nature. Such 
 men were Dalton and Faraday. It was a so-called 
 theorem of Faraday, that "The things which 
 seem so different are the same, but under differ- 
 ent aspects, and the forces of matter which seem 
 so opposite are but the same force acTing under 
 different conditions ; one matter, one force, one 
 law, in infinite variety of development." 
 
 Michael Faraday, third child of James and Mar- 
 garet Faraday, was born at Newington Butts, 
 September 22, 1791. His father was a poor 
 blacksmith but Michael seems to have had no 
 inclination to follow that profession. We do not 
 find him working at the forge. His early educa- 
 tion comprised a rudimentary knowledge obtained 
 in schools near by. 
 
 At the age of fourteen he was apprenticed to a 
 bookbinder, Mr. Riebau. While thus employed 
 he used to read the sheets given him to bind. 
 
1 74 3F resbman IPri^e Bssa^s 
 
 Treatises on electricity and chemistry especially 
 interested him. A short time afterward an op- 
 portunity to attend some of Sir Humphry Davy's 
 chemical lectures was given him. Of these 
 lectures he took notes and, having amplified 
 them at home, sent them to Davy with a re- 
 quest that he would assist Faraday to "escape 
 from trade and enter into the service of science." 
 
 The result was that in his twenty-third year he 
 became the assistant of Davy in the laboratory 
 of the Royal Institution. About ten years later, 
 upon the retirement of Davy, Faraday was ap- 
 pointed director of the laboratory, and in 1833 
 was made first Fullerian professor of chemistry, 
 a position which he held until his death. 
 
 In 1 82 1 he married Miss Sarah Barnard, a noble 
 young woman, twenty years of age. She be- 
 longed to the same religous sect as did he ; 
 namely, the Sandemanian. Faraday was for a 
 time an elder in the church and in that office 
 frequently preached to the congregation. Unlike 
 many men of science, he remained throughout 
 life a steadfast Christian. 
 
 At the age of forty, after he had been for 
 seventeen years in the Royal Institution, we find 
 him at the acme of his intellectual strength ; 
 stored with knowledge, and full of original 
 power. 
 
 When Faraday's name was proposed for mem- 
 bership in the Royal Society, he found that his 
 former friend and counselor, Sir Humphry Davy, 
 was opposed to his election. Perhaps this was 
 
/HMcbael afara&ag '75 
 
 but natural. Faraday, when he first entered the 
 Royal Institution, was a kind of servant of Davy; 
 and Davy, as some say, may have been jealous 
 because his former assistant already rivaled if he 
 did not surpass him in renown. Later, however, 
 Faraday was elected to the fellowship of the 
 Royal Society. He was once offered the presi- 
 dency of the Society but declined it. 
 
 In 1 84 1 his health failed and, accompanied by 
 Mrs. Faraday and her brother, he made a tour to 
 Switzerland, where he visited Interlaken and 
 also the Falls of the Giessbach at the beautiful 
 Lake Brientz. 
 
 It may be said of Faraday that many were led 
 to love science because they first loved Faraday. 
 He was . not merely a philosopher, but even a 
 maker of philosophers, for he used to seek out 
 young men of science, make known their merits 
 to the scientific world, and encourage them to 
 persevere in the study of nature. 
 
 Faraday's investigations were confined prin- 
 cipally to the department of chemistry and 
 electricity, and in these branches his discoveries 
 have been exceeded in value by those of no 
 other man. He was the greatest experimentalist 
 the world has yet seen. He continually swerved 
 from physics to chemistry and from chemistry 
 to physics, obtaining grand results in each. Davy 
 and Faraday might each have turned his science 
 to immense commercial profit ; neither one of 
 them did so. 
 
 It was Faraday's habit to think out carefully, 
 
176 jfresbman fl>d3e iSssags 
 
 beforehand, his subject and to form an outline 
 along which to work. His table was never left 
 with instruments scattered about upon it in a 
 disorderly manner and when at work no appa- 
 ratus, save what pertained to the task at hand, 
 was allowed on the table. While seeking for a 
 result he never let his mind become so preoccupied 
 that it could not discover other results than those 
 for which he looked. 
 
 Besides four groups into which the greatest 
 and most valuable of Faraday's discoveries may 
 be divided, there are many other discoveries less 
 important, but which would have earned for 
 him great fame, even without the four groups. 
 
 One of the principal ones of these minor dis- 
 coveries was that in regard to the liquefaction of 
 gases. He succeeded in reducing to a liquid 
 state a number of gases which until then had 
 been deemed permanent. These important results 
 established the fact that gases are but the vapors 
 of liquids possessing a very low boiling-point. 
 
 In 182^, he discovered benzol, a substance 
 which, at the hands of our modern chemists, has 
 become the basis of the beautiful aniline colors- 
 magenta, bleu de Paris, and others. 
 
 In an investigation concerning the attractive 
 and repellent forces of gases he discovered that 
 heat is a physical force ; that it sustains particles 
 at a distance, and hence to heat a substance is 
 merely to give greater motion to its particles. 
 
 Faraday proved that each particle has an atti- 
 tude peculiar to itself ; the magnetic needle, 
 
/llMcbael jfarafcaE 177 
 
 which always points to the pole, is a striking 
 instance of this preference of an atom for an 
 attitude. 
 
 At one time he estimated the amount of elec- 
 trical force involved in the decomposition of a 
 single grain of water at eight hundred thousand 
 discharges of his Leyden battery, or the equiva- 
 lent of a very great flash of lightning ; while the 
 chemical action of one grain of water on four 
 grains of zinc, would yield electricity equal in 
 quantity to a very large thunder-storm. 
 
 He made other minor researches on Frictional 
 Electricity, on the Electricity of the Gymnotus, 
 and on the Source of Power in the Hydro-ele£tric 
 machine. 
 
 His greater discoveries, divided into four 
 groups, are the ones on which his fame must 
 mainly rest. The first group is his discoveries 
 about Magneto-eleftric Induction. In this group, 
 under the head of the Polar and Other Conditions 
 of Diamagnetic Bodies, he shows that though a 
 current will pass through water it will not pass 
 through ice. This puzzled him for a time, but 
 afterward he stated that the liquid condition 
 would allow the molecules of water to turn 
 around so as to place themselves in the proper 
 line of polarization while the solid condition pro- 
 hibited it. This polar arrangement is necessary 
 for the passage of a current. 
 
 He first described the Lines of Magnetic Force 
 and showed that when a coil of wire is placed 
 about a bar of steel the strength of the magnet 
 
1 78 JFresbman Pri3e Bssa^s 
 
 formed by passing a current through the coil, is 
 proportional to the number of times the wire 
 intercepts these Lines of Force. 
 
 He also made investigations on the Extra or 
 Induced Current, on the Revulsive Phenomena of 
 the Magnetic Field, and on the Employment of 
 the Induced Magneto-electric Current as a Meas- 
 ure and Test of Magnetic Action. 
 
 The second group of researches and discover- 
 ies comprises the Chemical Phenomena of the 
 current, and the result is the law of Definite 
 Electro-chemical Decomposition. 
 
 Faraday saw the need of a measure of voltaic 
 electricity. This he found in the quantity of 
 water decomposed by the current. He tested 
 this measure in many ways to be certain that 
 there was no error and he found that whether 
 the battery was of two cells or fifty, whether 
 the solution was weak or strong, whether the 
 electrode was small or large, the quantity of gas 
 liberated was the same and depended not on the 
 intensity of the current, but on the quantity of 
 the electricity. "Hence," said he, "the chem- 
 ical action is proportional to the quantity of 
 electricity," and on this law he based the con- 
 struction of his celebrated voltameter. 
 
 To this group belongs also his discovery regard- 
 ing the Source of Power in the Voltaic Pile. There 
 had been a long contest concerning the origin of 
 this power. Volta supposed that the power re- 
 sided simply in the contact of different metals, 
 but he knew of no chemical phenomena. 
 
flIMcbael 3Farada£ 179 
 
 Faraday, in a paper, said that chemical action 
 must attend electrical effects and if the former 
 were excluded the latter could not be found. 
 He said that the supporters of the "contact" 
 theory assumed that a force able to overcome 
 powerful resistance, could arise from nothing. 
 Had the weight of this argument been under- 
 stood it would have instantly decided the 
 question. 
 
 The third group is the Magnetization of Light, 
 or the Illumination of the Lines of Magnetic 
 Force. This principle was not, at first, under- 
 stood, and Faraday wrote an article explanatory 
 of it. The article, however, left it as vague as 
 before. The principle is now used in many 
 lighthouses. 
 
 Another line of research resulted in the discov- 
 ery of Diamagnetism, or the Repulsion of Matter 
 by a Magnet. Faraday had tried steel and electro- 
 magnets on various substances without noticing 
 anything different from ordinary attraction or 
 non-attraction ; but when the magnetic force 
 was greatly increased he found that the magnet 
 repelled some substances. 
 
 Le Bailiff had proved that antimony was re- 
 pelled ; Brugmans, that bismuth was repelled ; 
 neither went farther. Faraday, on the contrary, 
 subjected to the action of his magnet mineral 
 salts, acids, alkalis, ethers, alcohols, glass, oils, 
 and even animal tissues, and found that all 
 were influenced by the magnet. No known 
 solid or liquid proved insensible to magnetic in- 
 
180 ffresbman fl>ri3e lEssa^s 
 
 fluence. The tissues of the human body are all 
 diamagnetic ; even blood, though it contains 
 iron, is repelled ; so, if you could suspend a 
 man between the poles of a magnet of sufficient 
 strength, he would come to rest not axially, but 
 equatorially, that is, at right angles to a line 
 connecting the poles. 
 
 Faraday's discoveries have proved of incalcula- 
 ble value to the world, and more and more are his 
 principles used in modern inventions. He obtained 
 little or no income from his work, but he has 
 won a name whose lustre shall increase with 
 coming years, and shall be ranked as 
 
 " One of the few, the immortal names, 
 That were not born to die." 
 
THE HISTORY OF ARCTIC EXPLORATION 
 
 BY ALBERT HOUGHTON PRATT, 'OI 
 
 From early historic time the vast regions of 
 the far north have exerted a strange influence 
 over mankind. There is seemingly nothing at- 
 tractive in the barren ice-fields of the Arctic 
 zone, yet man after man, expedition after 
 expedition, has started out, intent on reaching a 
 higher degree of latitude north and accomplishing 
 more than the one preceding. 
 
 The first dim knowledge which the ancients had 
 of the north polar regions was based on a re- 
 port respecting Thule, an island in the Arctic 
 Circle, brought back by Phytheas in the fourth 
 century B. C. This was afterwards doubted. 
 But in the ninth century A. D. some monks 
 really appear to have visited Iceland, the sup- 
 posed island of Thule. This is all the knowl- 
 edge the ancients had of the polar regions. 
 
 The Norsemen settled Iceland and planted a 
 colony in Greenland about 1235 A. D., that date 
 being found on a stone in a cairn. 
 
 In 1347 the "black death" broke out in Nor- 
 way ; the far-off colony was forgotten, and 
 the settlers were attacked and destroyed by 
 Eskimos who overran the West Bygd in 1349. 
 From 1400 to 1448 there was some communica- 
 tion, at long intervals, between Greenland and 
 
1 8a jfresbman pri^e lEssa^s 
 
 Iceland, but it ceased during the latter half of 
 that century. Here the first period of polar his- 
 tory closes. The next period, included in the 
 sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, was that in 
 which expeditions were dispatched across the 
 Arctic Circle to discover a shorter route to India. 
 Two routes were supposed to exist, the North- 
 east, and Northwest Passages. The Northeast 
 Passage is along the Siberian coast, which must 
 be traversed in order to pass from Europe to 
 Bering Sea. The Northwest Passage passes 
 from the Atlantic to the Pacific along the north- 
 ern coast of America. 
 
 The first expedition to search for the Northeast 
 Passage was made under Sir Hugh Willoughby 
 and Richard Chancellor, of which Sebastian Cabot 
 was the chief promoter. Its purpose was ' ' for the 
 search and discovery of the northern parts of the 
 world, to open a way and passage to our men, 
 for travel to new and unknown kingdoms." 
 Willoughby, after discovering Nova Zembla, re- 
 solved to winter in the harbor of Lapland, where 
 he and all his men perished of starvation and 
 cold. Chancellor reached Archangel. He under- 
 took a journey to Moscow, made arrangements 
 for commercial intercourse with Russia, and 
 returned safely. His success proved the practical 
 utility of polar voyages. Finally after the failures 
 of many, Professor Nordenskiold in 1875 turned 
 his attention to the possibility of navigating 
 the seas along the northern coast of Siberia. By 
 a minute study of the history of former attempts 
 
1btetor£ of Brctic Biploratton 183 
 
 and a careful consideration of all the circum- 
 stances, the professor was convinced that the 
 achievement of the Northeast Passage was 
 feasible. Setting out on the fourth of July, 1 878, 
 from Gothenburg in the Vega he found little ice, 
 and nearly made the passage in one season. 
 Towards the end of September the Vega was 
 frozen in. July 18, 1879, a ^ ter having been im- 
 prisoned by the ice two hundred and ninety-four 
 days, she proceeded on her voyage and passed 
 Bering Strait on the twentieth. After a lapse of 
 three hundred and twenty-six years, the North- 
 east Passage was at length accomplished without 
 damage to the vessel and without loss of a single 
 life. The Vega arrived at Yokohama on Sept- 
 ember second, 1879. 
 
 The Northwest Passage was even more sought 
 for than the Northeast. The search was begun 
 by Frobisher, who set out with two small ships 
 in 1576. He established the fact that there were 
 two or more wide openings leading to the west- 
 ward, between latitudes sixty degrees and sixty- 
 three degrees, on the American coast. 
 
 John Davis, who made the next attempt to 
 discover the Northwest Passage, made three 
 voyages in three successive years. He was the 
 first to visit Greenland after the abandonment 
 of the Norse colonies, and discovered Gilbert's 
 Sound. He reached an island which he called 
 Sanderson's Hope and then returned. 
 
 The East India Company sent an expedition 
 under Captain Waymouthin 1602 to seek a pass- 
 
1 84 jFresbman Pri3e Bssa^s 
 
 age, following the route of Davis, but it had no 
 success. 
 
 Henry Hudson was one of the most success- 
 ful of the explorers for the Passage. His first 
 voyage was in 1607 when he discovered the 
 most northern point of the east coast of Green- 
 land. In his second expedition he examined the 
 edge of the ice between Spitzbergen and Nova 
 Zembla. In his third voyage he discovered the 
 Hudson River. In 1610 he discovered Hudson's 
 Strait and the great bay which bears his name. 
 
 The British Parliament, seeing the great value 
 of explorations, and wishing to encourage them, 
 offered ,£20,000 for the discovery of the North- 
 west Passage and ,£5,000 for reaching eighty- 
 nine degrees north. This became a law in 1818. 
 
 From 1 8 19 to 1827 Parry made three voyages 
 and Franklin two, but they were unsuccessful as 
 far as the Northwest Passage was concerned. 
 
 In the year 1829 John Ross proceeded down 
 Prince Regent's Inlet in hopes to find the Passage, 
 and wintered on the eastern side of Boothia Felix. 
 In the course of explorations he crossed the land 
 and discovered the position of the north magnetic 
 pole on June first, 1831. 
 
 The completion of the northern coast line of 
 America gave rise in 1845 to a fresh attempt to 
 make the passage from Lancaster Sound to 
 Bering Strait. The government sent an expedi- 
 tion under Sir John Franklin in two vessels, the 
 Erebus and the Terror, which entered Baffin 
 Bay and were never seen afterwards. 
 
History of Brctic Biploration 185 
 
 The numerous search expeditions did not add 
 to the knowledge of the Northwest Passage 
 until 1850, when a Franklin search expedition 
 under Captain McClure, passing through Bering's 
 Strait and westward between Banks Land and 
 Prince Albert Land, attained a point within 
 twenty-five miles of Melville Sound, already 
 reached from the east ; thus demonstrating the 
 existence of a Northwest Passage, though not 
 accomplishing the navigation of it. McClure 
 received knighthood, and a reward of £ 10,000 
 was distributed among officers and crew. Nei- 
 ther of these passages is of practical value. The 
 achievement of them was simply the solution of 
 a scientific problem. 
 
 In the history of Arctic exploration the 
 Franklin expedition is very important, for the 
 disaster to his expedition led, through the vari- 
 ous search expeditions, to seven thousand miles 
 of coast line being discovered and a vast extent 
 of unknown country being explored, securing a 
 large addition to geographical knowledge. The 
 scientific results were also considerable. After 
 hearing nothing for two years people became 
 anxious and a search expedition was organized 
 under Richardson and Rae, 1848. Shortly after 
 Sir James Ross was sent with two ships. On 
 the return of Ross without tidings the country 
 became thoroughly alarmed. An extensive plan 
 of search was organized by Collison and McClure. 
 After a long and remarkable search they returned 
 without news of Franklin. 
 
1 86 tfresbman tt>ri3e Bssa^s 
 
 The United States was first led to take an in- 
 terest in polar research through sympathy felt 
 for Franklin. As a result of this the Grinnell 
 and Kane expeditions were equipped and sent 
 out, but found nothing. In 1854 Dr. Rae brought 
 home tidings and relics of Franklin's expedition, 
 gathered from the Eskimos. In 1850 Captains 
 Ommaney and Austin discovered traces of Frank- 
 lin at Cape Riley. 
 
 The search expedition sent out by Lady 
 Franklin under Captain McClintock discovered 
 at last in 1858 in King William's Land, not only 
 remains, but records of the lost expedition, 
 learning that they were caught in the ice in 
 Peel Sound in September, 1846 ; that Franklin 
 died on the eleventh of the following June ; that 
 the ships were deserted on the 22nd of April, 
 1848, on the northwest coast of King William's 
 Land ; and that the survivors, one hundred and 
 five in number, set out for the Back River. 
 They all perished. 
 
 In the year 1870 renewed activity in Arctic 
 exploration began. The northern coasts of Asia 
 and America had been delineated and the North- 
 west and Northeast Passages had been found. 
 Now the most interesting problems in the polar 
 regions became the history and actual condition 
 of the vast interior of Greenland. 
 
 The most important inland journey until that 
 of Peary, was by Professor Nordenskiold, 1870. 
 He went thirty miles over the glaciers and 
 attained a height of 2200 feet above the sea. 
 
1bi6tor£ of Brctic Exploration 187 
 
 In 1870 the United States government sent 
 C. F. Hall on an expedition, in the Polaris, and 
 in North Greenland he reached the. highest point 
 north then attained by ship, a record broken 
 only by Nares in the Alert, and Sverdrup in the 
 Fram. 
 
 In 1873 Weyprecht and Payer, Austrians, 
 drifted in their ice-bound ship to the southern 
 shores, Franz Josef Land, which they discovered 
 and explored. 
 
 The English were now aroused and in 1875 
 the world beheld the strange sight of a great 
 nation sending forth an expedition with orders 
 to go to the north pole. It sailed under Nares in 
 the Alert to North Greenland. The expedition 
 added forty miles to the record of northern 
 progress. 
 
 In 1879 the New York Herald sent DeLong to 
 reach the north pole, if possible. His ship, the 
 Jeannette, was caught in the ice and drifted a 
 long way to the westward, finally sinking. 
 
 The drift of the Jeannette, together with the 
 relics from her found two years later, gave Nansen 
 his idea for the drifting expedition in the Fram. 
 Twenty out of the thirty-three men on the Jean- 
 nette perished. 
 
 Lieutenant A. W. Greely was sent out in 1881 
 by the United States to establish one of the inter- 
 national polar stations. Lieutenant Lockwood 
 and Sergeant Brainard, members of this expedi- 
 tion, by means of a sledge journey along the 
 coast of North Greenland, established a new rec- 
 
1 88 jfreebman Pri3e Bssa^s 
 
 ord in the approach to the pole. Twenty-five 
 out of thirty-two men perished at Cape Sabine, 
 through the failures and inefficiency which mark 
 the record of this country in Arctic affairs. 
 
 These two disasters checked the enthusiam for 
 Arctic exploration until, in 1888, Fridjof Nansen 
 crossed Greenland, a brilliant feat. But it was 
 soon surpassed by Lieutenant Robert E. Peary 
 who, in 1892, accompanied by Astrup, a Nor- 
 wegian, crossed Greenland a thousand miles 
 north of Nansen's route, traveling with dogs 
 and sledges. In 1894 he tried to cross again, 
 but failed. But in 189s he succeeded in once 
 more reaching Independence Bay without being 
 able to explore the northern part of Greenland. 
 
 Two European expeditions set out in 1894 to 
 reach the pole. Neither succeeded. One was 
 that of Walter Wellman. He tried to reach the 
 pole by sledges and boat, using his ship as base 
 at Spitzbergen. The ship was crushed in an ice- 
 floe. Although the ice was very rough Wellman 
 continued north by sledge, but was obliged to 
 abandon the attempt at the eighty-first parallel. 
 The other expedition was under Frederick Jack- 
 son. He established headquarters at Cape Flora, 
 Franz Josef Land, where he remained three years 
 exploring parts of that region south of the eighty- 
 first parallel. 
 
 Nansen's brilliant achievement is more worthy 
 of notice than any since Greely's. Not only did 
 his drift theory prove correct, but leaving his 
 ship in an effort to reach the pole, he made one 
 
IbfstotE of Brcttc ^Exploration 189 
 
 of the most interesting journeys in Arctic history, 
 if Nansen and Johansen had not permitted their 
 watches to run down they would have been 
 able to come down upon the head of Franz Josef 
 Land and explore the region Payer saw, but 
 which has never been touched by foot of man. 
 
 On July 11, 1897, S. A. Andree with two 
 companions, set out from Dane's Island for the 
 pole, in a balloon. The only word received from 
 them was carried by a pigeon. The message 
 was written by Andree two days after the ascen- 
 sion. In the dispatch he said that all were well, 
 and that they were making "good progress to 
 the east ten degrees southerly." This message 
 indicates that Andree's plan of sailing to the pole 
 in a balloon resulted in failure. In about one- 
 sixth the time his air-ship could, by calculation, 
 remain afloat, he had made but small progress 
 northward and was then being driven south of 
 east. If Andree and his companions are still alive 
 the chances are that they will be found next 
 summer at Cape Flora, where Jackson left them 
 a supply of food. 
 
 There are five expeditions planned for next 
 summer, two of which will try to reach the pole. 
 In July Lieutenant Peary will go up the west 
 coast of Greenland in the Windward as far 
 north as possible, and then establish a station 
 and an Eskimo colony. As soon as the weather 
 permits he will throw out an advance post near 
 Cape York, and then in the spring will attempt 
 to reach the pole. 
 
190 JFresbman fl>ri3e Bssage 
 
 The other expedition will be under Mr. Walter 
 Wellman. His plan is similar to Peary's except 
 that it uses Franz Josef Land as a base of opera- 
 tions, and employs Norwegian seal and walrus 
 hunters instead of Eskimos. He will establish a 
 station at Cape Flora, and with a party of six 
 will push forward to Cape Fligely which Payer 
 reached in 1874. The following spring he will 
 seek the pole. He also hopes to explore the 
 unknown parts of Franz Josef Land. 
 
 The other parties are Captain Otto Sverdrup, 
 who will take the Fram and steam along the 
 coast of Greenland and Grinnell Land with a 
 party of scientists. Frederick Jackson will ex- 
 plore the unknown land which he believes to ex- 
 ist to the west and north of Jones Sound. A 
 Swedish expedition under Dr. A. G. Mathorst 
 will do scientific work in the Arctic regions this 
 summer. 
 
 The expeditions of Peary and Nansen began a 
 new era in the methods of reaching the pole. 
 They have shown that the pole can be reached 
 by a sledging expedition over the ice-covered 
 polar sea, made from a base station upon the 
 land as far north as can be established. Know- 
 ing these things it is very probable that Peary or 
 Wellman will reach the pole in the near future. 
 
 It is not irrelevant to the subject to mention in 
 closing why so many efforts have been made, 
 and should continue to be made, to discover the 
 unknown polar regions. 
 
 Surrounding the north pole three million square 
 
Mietovg of arctic Biploration 191 
 
 miles of land and sea remain still unexplored. 
 Increased knowledge of these regions is of 
 highest importance in three distinct lines : (a) 
 geographic explorations ; (b) scientific research; 
 (c) commercial profit. For the past two centu- 
 ries the Arctic regions have yielded commercial 
 products exceeding $ 5,000,000 and the available 
 wealth of this northern world is by no means 
 exhausted. 
 
 These advantages, however, are not the cen- 
 tral force that will drive adventurers to the north. 
 The restless spirit of discovery and adventure 
 has taken up her abode in the heart of man and 
 will never cease to goad on her subjects until 
 the unknown disappears and known is written 
 over all the Arctic zone. 
 
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