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MEMOIRS 
 
 of 
 LYMAN J. GAGE 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://archive.org/details/memoirsoflymanjgOOgage 
 
Mr. Gage as Secretary of the Treasury 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 "/ 
 LYMAN J. GAGE 
 
 19 3 7 
 
 HOUSE OF FIELD, Inc. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
Copyright, 1937 
 by Gloria Gage 
 
 M\NUFACTURED IN THE U. S. A. 
 
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 MEMOIRS 
 
 £ 
 
 of 
 LYMAN J. GAGE 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. Boyhood 9 
 
 II. My Early Positions 16 
 
 III. As a Millhand and Night Watchman 23 
 
 IV. My First Bank Connection 26 
 
 V. Death of My First Wife and Remarriage .... 31 
 
 VI. As a Cashier and Manager of a Bank 36 
 
 VII. Effects of the Chicago Fire 46 
 
 VIII. The Dishonest Bank Clerk 52 
 
 IX. Postmaster "Jacob Klopper's" Forgery 58 
 
 X. General Reflections 65 
 
 XI. The Birth of the Economic Club 68 
 
 XII. Bringing the World's Columbian Exposition 
 
 to Chicago 74 
 
 XIII. I Decline a Nomination as Mayor of Chicago 82 
 
 XIV. My Pupil of Foster Mission 85 
 
 XV. I am Appointed Secretary of the Treasury.... 87 
 
 XVI. The Organization of the Treasury Dep 104 
 
 XVII. Impressions of President McKinley 110 
 
 XVIII. Meeting with Ex-President Grover Cleveland 116 
 XIX. Some Financial Aspects of the McKinley 
 
 Administration 122 
 
 XX. Incidents as Secretary of the Treasury 127 
 
 XXI. A Comparison of Two Presidents 140 
 
 XXII. Terminating My Career as Secretary of the 
 
 Treasury 147 
 
PAGE 
 
 XXIII. Meeting with Leaders of Finance 152 
 
 XXIV. My Son's Tragic Death , 160 
 
 XXV. Reflections Upon Religion 170 
 
 XXVI. My Contacts With Philips Brooks 178 
 
 XXVII. "Spirit Communications" 184 
 
 XXVIII. My Travels 209 
 
 XXIX. Addenda by Gloria Gage 214 
 
Looking backward over the long road of nearly 
 I ninety years, I am very doubtful, whether the story 
 of experiences as a wayfarer through life can possess 
 for another anything either to instruct or entertain. 
 However, I remember with satisfaction that I have a 
 little son, a young wife and two grandsons, to whom 
 I look to perpetuate the family name I bear. It may 
 be interesting to them, if to no one else, in the years 
 to come, to look back upon the record which I shall 
 here inscribe. I know that I would give much if I 
 could read the story of my own father's early experi- 
 ences, his troubles and triumphs. 
 
 Heroes, statesmen, founders of empires, explor- 
 ers, navigators, discoverers, men of science, who have 
 filched from nature some of her long hidden secrets; 
 poets, painters, and all who have ministered in the 
 field where knowledge and social well-being have 
 been advanced, do indeed deserve a place in the rec- 
 ord of time; for to the oncoming generations they 
 furnish the stimulus which genius of any kind im- 
 parts to those who can be made to feel its inspiring 
 flame. 
 
 Is there room to record the thoughts and doings 
 of a plain, every-day man, who followed the common 
 track pursued by his fellows? Yet some of us, we of 
 the lesser sort, have an interest in the experiences of 
 our kind, and it is for these I write. 
 
 In no way entitled to a place among the great, 
 I must reflect, in the pictures I draw, the common 
 experience of those who, beginning life among the 
 
 —9— 
 
10 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 humble, have found their sphere enlarging with the 
 passing years. 
 
 I am encouraged to make this effort by two 
 books of similar import. One is an imaginary tale, 
 true to life however, "Joe Vance" by Edward de 
 Morgan. The other is the plain, graphic story of his 
 life by that striking product of modern business life 
 and adventure, Andrew Carnegie. Both of these men 
 knew, as did I, the advantages of comparative pov- 
 erty, and out of that fertile soil there grew the vir- 
 tues of simplicity, self-restraint and patience. 
 
 My story begins when self-consciousness was first 
 realized — the time when I knew that / was / and not 
 another. Five or six years old I must have been when 
 this stage was reached. My senses were the avenue 
 through which I observed objective realities, and by 
 reflection transmuted them into knowledge. It is, I 
 believe, an advantage to pass one's early life in a small 
 community. Contacts of the child with nature, and 
 with men and women, are more natural, and less 
 complex. The little village of De Ruyter, New York, 
 contained perhaps three or four hundred people. Two 
 main streets carried nearly all the houses. From the 
 centre, where those two roads crossed, to the open 
 country which lay beyond, was but a step easily 
 travelled by youthful feet. There lay the towering 
 hills, the sloping valley, each decorated by its own 
 wealth of nature's gifts to man. These made a strong 
 impression upon my childish mind, never afterwards 
 to be obliterated. 
 
 Within the small village itself, human nature 
 in its varied forms of expression is as manifest as in 
 the larger world. It is a sort of kindergarten, fitted 
 to the growing child. Thus in the opening years, from 
 
Boyhood H 
 
 six to ten, I learned to know all the people, at least 
 by sight and name, and by some instinctive sense, 
 gained insight into the peculiarities of their person- 
 alities. Today, after all these years, they come at times 
 before memory's vision, clean-cut and vital, while 
 the last one of those adults has passed into the land 
 of shadow. 
 
 The inhabitants of my little town were, without 
 exception, American born. The older ones had emi- 
 grated from New England. The main access was the 
 Albany turnpike, a highway built by the State of New 
 York to open the fertile valleys which, but a few 
 years before my time, had been comparatively a wil- 
 derness. The newcomers were frugal folks. They 
 brought with them the fruits of some education and 
 the amenities of life, the results of their own earlier 
 training. Into the second generation of these settlers 
 from the "farther East" I was born. The new lands 
 were rich in grass and growing timber, the latter so 
 plentiful that even in my early days I saw it burned 
 — first, to clear land for cultivation, and second, to 
 gain quick money from the sale of ashes, which when 
 leached into lye and converted into potash, could be 
 shipped by the Erie Canal, thirty miles distant, and 
 sold for cash. The small community was industrious. 
 The mechanical trades were sufficiently represented 
 to meet the primal needs. 
 
 From observations of these, my education was 
 promoted. As a boy I enjoyed the freedom of the 
 town. It was my delight in leisure hours to watch men 
 ply their trades. Near my house was a blacksmith 
 shop; Standing in the doorway, I often watched the 
 man at the forge heat his irons, and shape the horse- 
 shoe with blows of hammer on anvil, which sent a 
 
12 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 million beautiful sparks into the air. I saw him take 
 the horse's hoof upon his leather-clad, protected 
 knees, and with skilled hands, nail the shoe secure- 
 ly to the hoof. Outside the shop was a kind of magic 
 circle, whereon was built at times an encircling 
 fire, in which were heated, for re-setting on the 
 wagon's shrunken wheels, the iron tires which fitted 
 them for rocky roads. 
 
 I could describe how John Page, the village shoe- 
 maker, cut, sewed and pegged for all who came. 
 
 Not far from him was the tanner with acrid 
 acid liquor, wherein animal hides were divested of 
 their hair. 
 
 It was also interesting to look in Wood's Furni- 
 ture Store, where he made bedsteads, chairs and tables. 
 How strong of varnish it smelled; how beautiful 
 they all were when finished. 
 
 In these and other directions, I learned much 
 which helped me to an understanding in later years. 
 
 In the limited number of shops and stores which 
 served the town, I seemed to be welcome. No floor- 
 walker pushed me about, and no policeman bade 
 me move on. I saw cloth measured by the yard, tea 
 and coffee weighed; doctors going here and there on 
 their errands; lawyers with gilt signs at their doors; 
 clergymen dressed to suit their calling, clean-shaved 
 and dignified of manner. 
 
 Did I never go to school? Oh, yes, the small 
 school house of one room, with a single teacher, I 
 well remember. I must have been young in my first 
 attendance. Two things I cannot recall: the time 
 when I learned to read and the period when I learned 
 to swim. So far back as I can remember, I could do 
 both. And thus it was my early years passed by. 
 
Boyhood 13 
 
 I have said that I think it an advantage to begin 
 life in a small community. I hasten to add that it is 
 also good to get away from such an environment at 
 not too late a period. The law of compensation works 
 itself out. A small community tends to become nar- 
 row and provincial. Everybody knows everybody else 
 a little too well; members of the community watch 
 each other too closely; the current of intellectual life 
 grows sluggish, and the commonplaces of every day 
 life sap the mind of energy. I think it was fortunate 
 that at the age of ten or eleven, I escaped these influ- 
 ences by transfer to more complex surroundings. 
 
 My parents were both worthy of the class I have 
 so briefly sketched. Both had been taught in the dis- 
 trict schools of their day, were possessed of good 
 intelligence, and were respected and esteemed by 
 those of their kind. My father followed the voca- 
 tion of hat maker, a trade now obsolete, as then con- 
 ducted. His wage was small, but sufficient for our 
 needs. He used neither tobacco nor intoxicating 
 drinks. 
 
 My mother worked hard, performing her domes- 
 tic duties and making clothes for us children. 
 
 As a member of the Methodist Church, the 
 rules of which forbade the wearing of "gold orna- 
 ments or gaudy apparel," she was conscientious to 
 the last degree. She inculcated in her two children 
 reverence for God and a sense of obligation to keep 
 His commandments. While in my intellectual appre- 
 hension of the true relation between man and his 
 Creator, I have departed from her simpler faith, the 
 influence of her prayers and exhortations has never 
 lost its power. 
 
 Our home was modest enough, but as I remem- 
 
14 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 ber it, comfortable though not luxurious. In the 
 social life of the community, my parents had a recog- 
 nized place, and we were considered respectable. 
 
 At a time when few or none were rich, it was 
 no shame to be poor. Both lived honorable, just 
 lives and passed away with life's duties well per- 
 formed. As a reflection of the manners of the times 
 and the state of culture which prevailed, I insert 
 here a letter written by my father to the parents of 
 my future mother, asking their approval of the pros- 
 pective marriage, with their answer. 
 
 "De Ruyter, August 15th, 1831. 
 To Mr. and Mrs. Judson, 
 Respected Friends: 
 
 "I have chosen this method as being more agreeable 
 with my feelings of making you acquainted with my wishes 
 of becoming connected with your Family, and asking your 
 aprobation of the proposition I have already made your 
 Daughter of Marriage, this you doubtless are already apprised 
 of, yet custome and my own feelings require your sanction 
 before I proceed farther. I am fully sensible of the deep 
 anxiety a Parent must feel for the welfare of their sons and 
 daughters when they are about to go forth into the world 
 to act for themselves, and in view of this, I feel as if I had 
 but few inducements to offer that can entitle me to your 
 confidence. If, however, virtuous intentions, an honest heart 
 and manly perseverance is a sufficient surety for the honour 
 of your family, I pledge them. It is all I have to offer. 
 
 "I have the aprobation of my Mother and her best 
 wishes in relation to the above proposition. Please give me 
 your sentiment by letter as soon as convenient, for further 
 particulars, I refer you to Mary, etc., etc." 
 
 Respectfully yours, 
 
 Eli A. Gage." 
 
Boyhood 15 
 
 "New Berlin, August 18th, 1831. 
 
 Respected Friend: 
 
 "In answer to yours of the 15th instant, we are happy 
 to say we have no objection to the Family union you pro- 
 pose. We acknowledge, sire, it is a subject in which we feel 
 deeply interested, but to you who are the subjects, it is all 
 important, and should be treated with much care and candor, 
 as your happiness or misery thro this life measurably depend 
 upon the choice of your companion and bosom Friend. We 
 have no reason to doubt but you both have duly reflected. 
 You are sufficiently acquainted with my circumstances not 
 to expect a splendid setting-out with my daughter. I will, 
 however, endeavor to make her comfortable for a beginning, 
 and I hope she will be enabled to unite with you in virtuous 
 intentions, manly perseverance, etc., and prove herself not 
 unworthy of that confidence you have been pleased to bestow 
 upon our Family. We most cordially unite, sire, in the warmest 
 affections and ardent desire for the advancement of your 
 mutual happiness and prosperity." 
 
 Affectionately yours, etc., 
 
 Abel Judson 
 Aurelia Judson." 
 
 Under the guidance of a pious mother, I ac- 
 cepted without question the teaching of the church 
 of her faith. At thirteen or fourteen, certain questions 
 troubled me, and because of my personal experiences, 
 I began to doubt the efficacy of my own prayers. 
 
 Then followed many years of plain disinterest. 
 I was like many boys; I believed in decent living, was 
 not wicked, committed no outrage, but was Godless. 
 
 This sketch of "early days," as I look at it, 
 covers the first ten years of my life. These never-to-be- 
 forgotten memory pictures stand separate and apart 
 from the more complex life which supervened. It is 
 as if one life ended then, after which I was incarnated 
 in another. 
 
II 
 
 In some way my father obtained an appointment in 
 the office of the Collector of Toll on the Erie 
 Canal at Rome, N. Y., and thither we moved in the 
 year 1847. For the duties involved, my father was 
 fairly well qualified. He wrote an excellent hand and 
 was well up in the simpler rules of arithmetic. 
 
 I remember well our journey to Rome. Our 
 household goods made one large wagon load. Perched 
 on top, beside the driver of the team, I traversed the 
 thirty miles to the railroad, the first I had ever seen. 
 Great was my curiosity and fervid my expectations. Ar- 
 riving at the small station a few miles east of Syracuse, 
 we had a long wait for the train, which gave me oppor- 
 tunity to study the construction of the track. A great 
 contrast exists between a railroad as then built, and 
 as now constructed. Two timbers about six inches 
 square were laid parallel to each other, something 
 more than four feet apart, held in proper place and 
 relation by iron rods or bars at correct distance. On 
 the top of each timber was laid what was called a 
 rail, really an iron strip about three inches wide and 
 possibly one inch in thickness. At each end of the 
 rail, a hole was punched. Through this hole, deep 
 into the timber beneath, iron spikes were firmly 
 driven. At the time referred to, a single track of this 
 sort carried the traffic between Albany and Buffalo. 
 At present four tracks with rails five times as strong 
 and heavy are found necessary. 
 
 In due time we reached our destination, and I 
 found myself in what seemed a great city. The popu- 
 
 —16— 
 
My Mothe) 
 
My First Positions 17 
 
 lation did not exceed five thousand, but compared to 
 a village of three hundred, it appeared immense. 
 Everything was different. The streets were paved with 
 cobble stones; the buildings were large and the dwel- 
 lings pretentious in appearance. The little city be- 
 came my home for the next eight years. My common- 
 place experiences during that period are worth re- 
 cording only because they illustrate how a youth, try- 
 ing to find his way in life, may be beaten about hither 
 and thither by fate or circumstances before he reaches 
 any definite direction in which his life is to lead him. 
 
 The public school building was much larger 
 than the old one in De Ruyter, with two large rooms 
 instead of one small one. The boys and girls were 
 separated and each group was presided over by a 
 single teacher. Reading, writing, spelling, arithmetic 
 and geography constituted the curriculum. I think 
 that I made very good progress in these elementary 
 subjects, and I now look back on that year in school 
 with satisfaction. 
 
 Just after my twelfth birthday, my father sur- 
 prised me with the question: "How would you like 
 to earn some money by clerking in a store? Mr. 
 Savery asked me today if I were willing that you enter 
 his employment. He will pay you five dollars per 
 month, and of course, you can live at home." 
 
 The possibility of earning money appealed to 
 my imagination, and I eagerly fell in with the sug- 
 gestion. Within a day or two I was duly installed in 
 the new service. The establishment was unique in 
 several particulars. The store was a small one, per- 
 haps twenty feet square. I was the sole clerk. The 
 goods dealt in were very diversified: a few books, a 
 small stock of cigars, a soda fountain of a simple type, 
 
18 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 a limited assortment of children's toys, fresh fruit. 
 Fish, especially shad, oysters and clams, were brought 
 from the East in the cooler months. Business hours 
 were from seven in the morning until nine in the 
 evening, and I was ready for bed when closing hour 
 came. I shall never forget, when, at the end of a 
 month, my first pay day arrived. My employer, a 
 kindly man, put into my hands, in shining silver 
 coins, the first five dollars I had ever earned. It was 
 nearly ten o'clock in the evening, and my legs were 
 not speedy enough to take me home as rapidly as I 
 wished, to exhibit the money. My mother was asleep 
 in bed but I could not restrain myself from waking 
 her that she might share with me the joy of my 
 achievement. No sum, large or small, since justly 
 claimed as "my very own," has given me such sense 
 of joyful elation as did this, the first fruit of my per- 
 sonal effort. 
 
 Several months were spent in the service of Mr. 
 Savery, when the "Academy", a new experiment in 
 the town, was opened. All good citizens with eligible 
 children were expected to patronize the new institu- 
 tion, and my parents, with some measure of personal 
 sacrifice, provided the tuition fees to enter my sister 
 Maria and myself in the new school. The Academy 
 was well supplied with professors, teachers and other 
 "aides to learning," and it was with zest and zeal that 
 I pursued my further education there. But at the end 
 of the academic year my former employer, Mr. 
 Savery, was appointed Postmaster, and remembering 
 my previous service, offered me the position of junior 
 clerk in the post office. The emolument proposed 
 was modest enough, viz: $8.33 per month, but the 
 place looked good to me, and with my father's con- 
 
My First Positions 19 
 
 sent, I accepted the terms as offered. I was not yet 
 quite fourteen. The duties were confining, but in the 
 few months in this service, I learned much in many 
 ways, and was disciplined to wear the yoke of daily 
 routine. When Millard Filmore came into office as 
 President, he appointed a successor to Mr. Savery. 
 The new incumbent had a young relative whom he 
 appointed junior clerk, and I retired when Mr. 
 Savery surrendered his commission. 
 
 These events, no doubt, worked to my real bene- 
 fit. Another year in the Academy was more fruitful 
 than any prior one in the acquisition of knowledge. 
 It was the last I was to enjoy, for at the close of that 
 school term, my time and attention were turned to- 
 ward getting a better foothold in the way of self- 
 support. 
 
 There followed a year in a commercial house, 
 known as a "General Store." The establishment car- 
 ried drugs, liquors, groceries and many miscellaneous 
 articles for domestic use. It makes me laugh now in 
 these days of prohibition, to recall the low cost of 
 whiskey, of which our sales were large. Eighteen cents 
 a gallon was the standard price for that product of 
 corn. Sold by the half pint at two cents, the profit on 
 sales was larger, since there were sixteen half-pints 
 in the gallon; thirty- two cents per gallon was thus 
 realized, the cost price being twelve cents per gallon. 
 
 There were objectionable features to the busi- 
 ness, and when chance offered a clerkship in the lead- 
 ing book store, I gladly embraced it. There, for the 
 first time, I was brought into contact with the higher 
 world of thought. The pay was small, but the duties 
 left moments in the day and hours in the evening, 
 when I could browse over the wide field of literature. 
 
20 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 I improved my opportunities and became acquainted 
 with many of the more famous authors. That was a 
 very profitable period for the development of my 
 mental taste and power. The habit of reading thus 
 inaugurated had not been broken when an unexpected 
 event occurred, which finally led to a career covering 
 forty years of my future. 
 
 A new bank was started in our small city, and it 
 was thought that with some effort I could secure 
 appointment to its working staff. I made the effort 
 and succeeded. It was considered a good opportunity 
 for a lad of eighteen without any banking experience, 
 and the compensation was fixed with some relation 
 to the "value of the opportunity." One hundred dol- 
 lars per annum was not much in cash, but the posi- 
 tion had a strong attraction for me. I had had no 
 definite aim in life, nor had my father tried to direct 
 my rather modest ambitions in any specific channel. 
 But a bank had long appealed to my young imagi- 
 nation, and I was proud and happy when I was hon- 
 ored by appointment as messenger in the Oneida Cen- 
 tral Bank of Rome, N. Y. The situation lost some of 
 its charm when the duties became more clearly under- 
 stood. They included keeping the broad sidewalk in 
 front of the building free from ice and snow, which 
 in the vigorous winters furnished such vigorous exer- 
 cise as to make gymnasium practice quite unneces- 
 sary. Added to this, two coal stoves with enormous 
 appetites had to be fed at regular periods. It was also 
 incumbent on me to sweep the office and keep the fur- 
 niture and desks free from dust. As I slept in the 
 bank to "guard against burglars," and was an early 
 riser, the latter duties could be performed without 
 prejudice to other activities in business hours. 
 
My First Positions 21 
 
 There were, however, some hours in the day 
 when I could assist in the clerical work behind the 
 counter. I learned to count money rapidly and cor- 
 rectly and memorized the names of the broken banks, 
 whose worthless circulating notes intruded upon the 
 channels of commerial life. From the bookkeeper I 
 learned the methods of keeping the accounts. So tak- 
 ing all things into consideration, I felt, after some 
 year and a half, that I was justly entitled to advance- 
 ment, at least in salary. Very gently and as politely 
 as possible, I brought this question before the Cashier, 
 suggesting that a raise of fifty dollars per year would 
 be appreciated. I also explained that my father had 
 been to Chicago, where he had learned of an oppor- 
 tunity for me to earn twelve dollars per week. The 
 Cashier was a kindly man. He recognized the reason- 
 ableness of my request, and would "lay the question 
 before the directors." 
 
 To his regret he was obliged to report that the 
 Board did not take a favorable view of the matter. 
 The consensus of opinion seemed to be that "it was 
 a bad time to increase expenses." The Cashier, how- 
 ever, expressed the hope that I would remain, point- 
 ing out that the teller's position would probably be 
 open at some future time. He expressed confidence 
 that I could discharge the duties and mentioned the 
 salary as five hundred per year. That sounded very 
 promising, but after reflection I resigned and de- 
 parted for the young and growing city of the West. 
 It was to me a great adventure. In the eighteen years 
 of my life I had never been a hundred miles from 
 the place of my birth. The transfer from a small city 
 of six thousand to one of sixty thousand, was like 
 stepping into a new and larger world. 
 
22 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 I took the train at nine o'clock in the evening. 
 I had bade my folks at home good-bye, but when I 
 closed the door behind me, my mother followed me 
 to the gate for a last word of farewell. Tenderly she 
 put her arms around my neck and quietly wept while 
 she whispered words of love and warning. At the last 
 moment she placed in my hands a small Bible and 
 begged me to make it my guide and counsellor. 
 
 I could not fully share either in her emotions 
 or her anxieties. I was desirous of being on my way, 
 and I had in mind the few young men friends who 
 would be waiting at the station to see me off. But the 
 picture yet lives with me of that final parting between 
 mother and son. 
 
 The train upon which I embarked was typical 
 of the period. The coaches were small, loosely 
 coupled; sleeping cars were an unknown luxury. 
 Power brakes to bring the trains to a gentle stop had 
 not yet been invented, so that the stops and starts 
 were accompanied by jerks and jars which made con- 
 tinuous sleep impossible. The night had dragged it- 
 self into the dawn of the next day when we arrived 
 at Suspension Bridge, then one of the wonders of 
 the world. I learned from the conductor that some 
 four hours later there would be another train on 
 which my ticket would be honored. 
 
 Reflecting that "I may not come this way again," 
 I availed myself of the opportunity to view the majes- 
 tic spectacle of Niagara Falls, about three miles above 
 the bridge. 
 
Ill 
 
 A nother night and the following day until three 
 /\ o'clock in the afternoon brought my journey to 
 its close. Whosoever may have thus far followed the 
 story of that humble path, which had led me from 
 childhood days to the dawning responsibility of "self- 
 determinism," will be willing to continue with me 
 into the broader road which now seemed to open be- 
 fore me in the new West. 
 
 I warn the reader, however, that the road will 
 be a lengthy one, the earlier stages not free from lures 
 and obstructions, nor bordered with blossoming flow- 
 ers. For some distance yet, the way lies along the 
 low, flat lands, shadowed still by clouds of doubt and 
 uncertainty. Nevertheless, it was with a good heart 
 and a smile of hope that I faced the future. Quite 
 exhausted by two sleepless nights on the train, I sought 
 a good hotel, with room and board at a dollar and a 
 half per day. The three dollars remaining in my 
 pocket, would be sufficient, and my new employment 
 was awaiting my appearance. 
 
 The following morning I presented myself to 
 the manager of a large planing mill in the lumber 
 yard district, in an obscure part of the city. Not far 
 away I found a comfortable room with board at the 
 modest cost of four dollars per week. 
 
 My duties in the office were light and easily dis- 
 charged. Indeed my leisure time was painfully abun- 
 dant. The mill itself was a busy place; a score or more 
 of men were hard at work and the hum of machinery 
 filled the air. Hoping thereby better to earn my 
 
 —23— 
 
24 Memoirs o[ Lyman /. Gage 
 
 wages, I joined, as occasion arose, in this work. I fed 
 machines, piled lumber and sometimes drove a team. 
 All this was mighty good for me. It gave me experience 
 in real manual labor, brought me into sympathetic 
 touch with the man who works with his hands and 
 hardened my physique. It also gave me a sense of 
 being of use, and there is much satisfaction in that. 
 
 My evenings were, of course, my own, but how 
 to employ the time? I was a stranger with no social 
 claim on anyone, and I turned to amusements. I had 
 never seen the inside of a theatre, nor witnessed a 
 dramatic performance. It had been impressed upon 
 me that the stage was immoral, and all actors sons of 
 Belial. However, I ventured to visit McVicker's 
 Theatre where some noted star of the time, with sup- 
 porting company, was drawing large audiences in the 
 presentation of the plays of Shakespeare. The first 
 visit captivated me. It opened a new world of thought 
 and fancy. A seat in the upper gallery was accessible 
 for the sum of twenty-five cents, and I became a 
 regular and absorbed patron five or six evenings a 
 week. These nights were not only a delight; they 
 were in a way a liberal education. The Shakespearian 
 plays and others of the better sort developed my taste 
 and added to my sum of knowledge. I acquired a 
 relish for literature, and as the glamour of the theatre 
 abated, I turned to books of the better kind, in which 
 I found delight and instruction. It is my belief that 
 with a proper public taste, the stage could be made 
 a powerful auxiliary to the moral and intellectual 
 cultivation of the people. 
 
 These were really happy days, but a change was 
 to come. 
 
 In the year 1857, the shadow of a black financial 
 

 Lyman J. Gage as a small child 
 
Millband and Night Watchman 25 
 
 and industrial panic spread over the land. Its disas- 
 trous effects were seen in the ruin of banks and busi- 
 ness enterprises, and much distress among the more 
 humble. 
 
 I lost my position and was obliged to join the 
 ranks of the unemployed. Although now twenty-two, 
 I again sought to add to my too limited education by 
 a course in bookkeeping and the science of accounts 
 at Bryant & Stratton's Business College. 
 
 It was time well expended, and taught me much 
 that was of great value in later years. However, my 
 financial situation did not favor the most protracted 
 course, and in June, happening into the office of my 
 former employment, I heard the night watchman ten- 
 der his resignation of that rather arduous job. Thir- 
 teen consecutive hours, from six in the evening to 
 seven in the morning, but there was money in it — 
 ten dollars per week — and I promptly applied for the 
 position. It did not look so attractive — a monotonous 
 task with no prospective promotion; but how dim is 
 our outlook into the future! This humble place 
 proved the stepping stone to a larger life and more 
 important duties. 
 
IV 
 
 y^v ne moonlight night, while patrolling in front 
 II of the rambling building a gentleman whom I 
 had often observed, accosted me with the words: 
 "You are the watchman, I take it." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "I have noticed you several times in passing by. 
 You have not been watchman long. What did you 
 do before?" 
 
 The man was kindly in his tone, and I told him 
 briefly my history. When I spoke of a year and a half 
 in the bank at Rome, his interest quickened. 
 
 "Can you not get some position in the banks 
 here?" 
 
 "It would be difficult; I am a stranger in the 
 down-town district, and have no helping influence." 
 
 "Well," he said, "I will hand your name to the 
 cashier of the bank with which I do business, and 
 something may come of it." 
 
 Something did come of it, for not many days 
 later I received a brief letter, asking me to call. It was 
 tossed to me by the maid as I was falling into my 
 morning's sleep after my vigil of the night. 
 
 It was the 3rd day of August, 1858; the night 
 before had been excessively hot and this day was 
 semi-tropical. With a supreme effort, I shook off sleep, 
 hurriedly dressed, and hastened to meet the writer 
 of the hopeful note. It was nearly two miles to his 
 bank, and there was no public means of transporta- 
 tion. Therefore I must walk. At eleven o'clock, quite 
 worn and tired, I presented myself to the manager at 
 
 —26— 
 
My First Bank Connection 27 
 
 his desk, with the remark: "I am the young man 
 you have invited to call." He gave me a quick look- 
 over, then replied: "We want a bookkeeper; can you 
 do the work?" 
 
 "I believe I can; the proof of it will appear, if 
 I can." 
 
 "What salary do you want?" 
 
 "You may name that; it will be satisfactory to 
 me." 
 
 He then named five hundred per year, to which 
 I assented. 
 
 "When can you come?" 
 
 "Whenever you say." 
 
 "All right, come in at one o'clock today and we 
 will put you to work." 
 
 Nearly two hours were to intervene; how should 
 I put in the time? Oh, for a little sleep, of which I 
 felt sore need. In the shadow of a warehouse not far 
 away I found a friendly log. Seated upon this, with 
 my back against the building, I snatched an hour or 
 more of refreshing slumber, and at one o'clock re- 
 turned to the bank. I was shown the desk where I 
 was to work, the large journal and the ledger. After 
 brief examination of these, with a few words of in- 
 quiry, I grappled with my new task. By the system 
 used, the day's work, if correctly done, would verify 
 itself by a perfect balance in the final figures. Alas, 
 what with nervousness, my result did not answer this 
 test, and all had to be carefully gone over again. At 
 midnight, I started on my long walk home, the work 
 in proper shape. That night my sleep was fitful. In 
 my dream, I turned pages of enormous ledgers in 
 search of impossible names; morning broke, finding 
 me but little refreshed. Yet it was borne in on me 
 
28 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 that my hour of destiny had come, and that to make 
 good was imperative. 
 
 That second day at the bank was also a trying 
 one, but the strain lessened as the days went on and 
 what at first was so taxing, became easy. I indulge in 
 these details, in the hope that they may encourage 
 some other struggler for recognition. Partly because 
 those hours marked the turning point in my life's 
 history, I remember them gratefully. Yes, these few 
 days were followed by thirty-nine years of uninter- 
 rupted life as a "bank man." 
 
 Shall I tell you how the way opened as the years 
 went on? My story will not be complete unless I do. 
 
 Practice and growing familiarity with my work 
 reduced the time required to perform it, leaving a 
 margin of leisure which I devoted to the counting of 
 money and the assistance of the overworked tellers. 
 I soon regained and improved the skill acquired in 
 the little bank at Rome. 
 
 To this I may be indebted for the fact that 
 within four or five months I was appointed Paying 
 Teller, quite a responsible position at more than 
 twice the previous salary. It seemed that success at- 
 tended my efforts. At least, I never overpaid checks 
 nor honored those that were spurious or forged. I did 
 have a narrow escape from a loss of $500.00, which, 
 because of the peculiar circumstances, I will here 
 relate. The story partakes of the occult, and even yet 
 it is mystifying to me. Perhaps the psychologist can 
 explain. 
 
 One day I found at the close of work that my 
 cash on hand was $500.00 short. Over the figures of 
 my day's work, the footings and subtractions, I went 
 again and again. Time after time I carefully counted 
 
My First Bank Connection 29 
 
 my cash, hoping to find some explanatory error. 
 However, my attention was drawn to certain figures 
 which showed that I ought to have received into my 
 cash the sum of $2648.00, as a payment due from 
 another bank. By a careless stroke of the pen, I had 
 slightly cut through the loop of the figure six, so that 
 at a casual glance the six might be taken for the figure 
 one. The difference of $500.00 between the true sum 
 due and this obscured amount caught my attention, 
 but at first produced little or no impression. Still, in 
 spite of myself, my eyes came back to this item. My 
 reason protested against associating it with my cash 
 shortage. The bank had sent me the amount due as 
 shown by the books. My check mark showed I re- 
 ceived it. If they had paid me only $2148.00, instead 
 of $2648.00, I might possibly have accepted it as cor- 
 rect, but that seemed absurd. The bank would have 
 sent the true amount, and if not I would have discov- 
 ered it. Thus I mused. While I turned again in a hope 
 less quest for the missing $500.00, with a sort of mag- 
 netic power, my thoughts would be again drawn to 
 these fateful figures. Finally with a sense of the folly 
 of doing it, I set out for the home of the paying 
 teller of the bank in question, to inquire of him if 
 there was any disparity in his cash for the day. I knew 
 that if he had paid me "short," his cash would show 
 an "over." Finding him at home, I asked as to this. 
 
 He replied, "I don't recall the amount I sent 
 you, but it must have been correct because my cash 
 was in exact balance at the close of work." 
 
 "Yes, you are no doubt right, but I am $500.00 
 short and I want to look at the figures on your books." 
 
 "All right," he rejoined, "come in tomorrow 
 morning, and look at them." 
 
30 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 "No, I want to look at them tonight." 
 
 He was good natured enough with my insistency, 
 and went with me through the sleet and rain to his 
 bank. Going into his "cage," he opened his book to 
 my inspection. His figures plainly showed that the 
 amount due to be paid was $2648.00 
 
 "That," he said, "is the amount I paid, and my 
 book, as you see, is in perfect balance." 
 
 "Yes," I said, "I knew that it must be so, but 
 could not resist the inward urge to investigate." 
 
 And so we left his office. At three steps from the 
 door I exclaimed, "Hold on a minute, Joe, I want to 
 go inside again." 
 
 "All right," he said, "What now?" 
 
 "Where is the bag in which your messenger car- 
 ries his money?" 
 
 "Down there somewhere under the counter." 
 
 Stooping, I drew a small leather sack from 
 among others, thrust my hand to the bottom of it 
 and pulled out a package of $500.00. 
 
 "There's my money!" I cried out. 
 
 "Well, I'll be damned," exclaimed Joe. "It looks 
 like it, doesn't it? Guess you better keep it unless a 
 better claimant shows up." 
 
 Needless to say, I did keep it and so escaped the 
 threatened loss. That night I slept in peace. 
 
"V\7Tere I entirely to leave out of this record some 
 Y^y reference to my domestic life, by which my 
 days were brightened and the years made sacred, I 
 should be neglectful of the influences which did much 
 to shape my character. 
 
 Looking back upon those long past years, all 
 too few in number, I see that they form a period 
 which frames a picture of peace, satisfaction and hap- 
 piness, mellowing with time into beautiful colorings. 
 Yes, those ten years of wedded life stand out distinct 
 and separate, bringing me a harvest of memories that 
 still enrich my life. 
 
 I was twenty-six years old when the woman of 
 my dreams appeared to me in her physical form. Cir- 
 cumstances favored our acquaintance, which ripened 
 into love. This love, on my part, carried no doubts 
 or fears. To me she was one among ten thousand, and 
 altogether lovely. She was endowed by nature with 
 a good mind, which had been cultivated by educa- 
 tion. She possessed grace of manner and a heart sym- 
 pathetic and generous in its aspirations and senti- 
 ments. 
 
 Her father was Francis B. Etheridge, a highly 
 respected physician of Hastings, Minnesota. She was 
 educated in Troy Seminary. At the time of our first 
 meeting she was a teacher of French and music in a 
 private school for girls at Saint Paul, Minnesota. 
 
 Our mutual regard was developed chiefly 
 through correspondence. Today, I have lying side by 
 side all the letters she ever wrote to me, with the cor- 
 responding one from my own hand. The reading of 
 them now, after fifty years of intervening silence, 
 brushes aside the curtain and brings into view those 
 
 —31— 
 
32 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 years wherein my life was filled with joys and hope- 
 ful anticipations. 
 
 We were married in a church at the home of her 
 sister, in Albion, New York, on the morning of No- 
 vember 17th, 1864. Taking an early train, we em- 
 barked upon our wedding journey to the farther 
 East; Boston, New York and Philadelphia, were the 
 chief points in our itinerary. 
 
 I will not weary the reader with the details of 
 the ten years which elapsed before the hand of death 
 took her from my side. 
 
 Left with two young children, robbed of my 
 loved companion, the outlook wore a melancholy 
 hue. Thus I walked for thirteen years alone. Gradual- 
 ly time, which "wipes away the mourner's tears," 
 softened the bitterness of my grief. 
 
 In 1887 I again married. A brother of mine, 
 younger by ten years, had died, leaving as his widow 
 Cornelia, n£e Lansing. She was a beautiful woman, as 
 charming in personality as she was sincere, and of a 
 temperament which had won her many admiring 
 friends. 
 
 A short time prior to this second marriage, I 
 had suffered a severe fall, and under medical advice, 
 was spending a few weeks in the mild winter climate 
 of Georgia. Much alone, my thoughts canvassed the 
 past, and tried to scan the future. Still in the full 
 prime of life, with many prospective years ahead of 
 me, the solitary way looked long and uninviting. 
 
 Why should I not seek companionship? My 
 mind turned to Cornelia. We were close friends, but 
 no word of love had been spoken between us. She 
 was then residing in Denver, Colorado, at much loss 
 as to what her own future would be. My reflections 
 ripened into purpose; one day I sat down and wrote 
 
Sara 
 
Death of First Wife and Remarriage 35 
 
 her a long letter, winding it up with a proposal of 
 marriage. 
 
 Whether or not this would be agreeable to her, 
 I could not fairly guess, nor did I want to embarrass 
 her to name reasons why this proposed union could 
 not be. Neither did I relish the idea of being kept 
 on "tenter hooks" while she might deliberate and 
 formulate a reply. Therefore, I concluded with the 
 request that she answer by wire, using only one word, 
 "yes" or "no." No explanation would be necessary. 
 In due course a telegram came, carrying the one 
 word, "Yes." Soon afterward, I went to Denver to 
 carry on a personally conducted courtship, which 
 resulted in a wedding ceremony on June 7th, 1887, 
 in the Cathedral at Denver. 
 
 Though her life had been spent in the middle 
 west— never as a social leader in the "Four Hundred" 
 —her natural grace of manner and innate power of 
 adaptability, led her to a well recognized place of 
 honor among the ladies of McKinley's Cabinet, when 
 in the course of events, our lives were for a few years 
 cast in the social environment of Washington. 
 
 So for another period of fourteen years, my 
 home was blessed and my heart comforted by that 
 greatest of blessings — a good wife. But again I was 
 to be reminded of the ephemeral nature of our life. 
 In the early days of 1901 she passed away, and again 
 I "trod the wine press alone." 
 
 One would think perhaps that two marriages, 
 though separated by long years, should be enough. 
 So I thought, and in that mind remained for eight 
 more years. 
 
 I shall elsewhere refer to my third marriage, 
 which marks with pleasantness my declining years. 
 I will not anticipate those details here. 
 
VI 
 
 The following incidents occurred at a later peri- 
 od after I had become cashier and manager of 
 the bank, and another was performing the duties of 
 paying teller. 
 
 Some time after closing hour, the teller reported 
 to me with a saddened look, "I am in trouble; my 
 cash is short by $1,000.00. I have gone over my work 
 thoroughly and there is no doubt that I have over- 
 paid some check." 
 
 He exhibited four checks for several thousand 
 dollars each and remarked, "I feel quite sure it was 
 one of these on which I made the overpayment." 
 
 "Have you any inward impression concerning 
 it?" I asked. 
 
 "Well," he replied, "I do have a feeling that 
 this is the check, but of course I don't know." 
 
 The check he indicated was for about $4500.00. 
 It was signed by a bank at the stock yards, payable 
 to the order of C. L. Watt, with his endorsement 
 certified as correct by the stock yard bank. 
 
 "I have a vague feeling that I paid $5500.00 on 
 that check, but I cannot be certain." 
 
 Remembering the value of a quick follow-up 
 of even a faint inward lead, I directed him to go at 
 once to the Stock Yards Hotel to inquire whether 
 Mr. Watt was registered there — if so, to secure from 
 him, if he could, the over-payment in question. 
 
 The next morning, the teller reported that Mr. 
 Watt had been registered at the hotel, but had taken 
 the train for home. On inquiry I learned that Mr. 
 
 —36— 
 
Cashier and Manager of a Bank 37 
 
 Watt was a responsible farmer and cattle raiser, liv- 
 ing near A — , some hundred miles from Chicago. 
 
 "What can I do next?" the teller asked. 
 
 "Take the first train for A — , find Mr. Watt, and 
 appeal to him to relieve your unfortunate situation 
 by returning the money wrongfully held by him. If 
 he denies that he was ovepaid, take careful note of 
 his every word and general manner, but do not argue 
 with him." 
 
 Following this direction, the teller visited Mr. 
 Watt at his distant home, but without success. The 
 cattleman angrily denied the teller's claim. I then 
 bethought myself of a Mr. Warner, well known to me 
 as Superintendent of the Pinkerton Detective Agency, 
 and sent for him. He had none of the outward char- 
 acteristics of the professional detective. He was a 
 plain man of simple manners, of about fifty years, 
 who at first glance might impress one as a country 
 merchant. 
 
 The teller described to him his interview with 
 Mr. Watt. Then I spoke to Mr. Warner: "You have 
 had experience with guilty men, and small things 
 betray their sense of guilt. From what the teller has 
 told us, what is your opinion — has Mr. Watt that 
 thousand dollars?" 
 
 "It looks so to me," he replied, "but, of course, 
 it's more of a guess than a judgment." 
 
 "Assuming that he is in possession of the money, 
 can you influence him to surrender it?" 
 
 "That's another question; the teller isn't even 
 certain that he overpaid the man. There is no evi- 
 dence to go on." 
 
 "That is true," I replied, "nothing except the 
 conviction that Watt is guilty. With this conviction 
 
38 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 you will have an immense moral superority in your 
 contact with him. If he is culpable, he will dodge and 
 you will tire him out and make him wish he was rid 
 of his burden. He may yield to ingenious pressure. 
 There are but a few men who could accomplish this. 
 I could not, but I believe you can, if you think you 
 can. Will you undertake the job?" 
 
 "I will try it," he replied. 
 
 Thirty-six hours later he returned to my office. 
 
 The report of his trip was to this effect: 
 
 "I spent yesterday with Watt. He obstinately 
 denied all knowledge of any overpayment by the bank 
 and refused to make restitution." 
 
 "All right," I commented, "that you should 
 succeed was too much to expect. No doubt you did 
 the best you could. Send me your bill for expenses 
 and services." 
 
 "Wait a minute," he rejoined. "Will you ask the 
 teller to come here?" Of him Mr. Warner inquired: 
 "Could you identify the money you paid this man if 
 you saw it again?" 
 
 "I could recognize the paper strap of any money 
 given over my counter, but I could not identify the 
 money." 
 
 Reaching into his pocket, Warner withdrew a 
 package of money with a strap around it, marked 
 "1000". "Do you recognize that strap?" 
 
 "No," replied the teller, "that strap never went 
 through this bank." 
 
 "Well, Watt gave it to me. I guess it belongs to 
 you and you had better keep it." 
 
 "How did you get that money from Watt?" I 
 asked. 
 
 "The full details I will omit: suffice it to say that 
 
Cashier and Manager of a Bank 39 
 
 Watt had been obstinate in denial and appeared 
 anxious to exonerate himself from all suspicion. He 
 had gone so far as to take Warner to the Justice of 
 the Peace, before whom he signed a sworn statement 
 that he had been correctly paid. 
 
 "But," said Warner, "a continuous study of the 
 man convinced me that he knew his guilt. He seemed 
 anxious to keep in my good graces; he even invited 
 me to supper with his family. I gladly accepted, grasp- 
 ing at the last possible chance for success. Around the 
 table were Mr. and Mrs. Watt, their three children, 
 Mr. Watt's mother and myself. I soon discovered that 
 his family was ignorant of my errand, which was 
 hardly consistent with his innocence. If falsely 
 accused, he would indignantly have made known to 
 them the absurd and injurious aspersions on his good 
 name. From this I took my final cue. Near the close 
 of the meal, I spoke to Mrs. Watt: 'I want to talk with 
 you about a matter in which you women will be 
 deeply interested. It will not interest the children 
 and I wish you would excuse them.' 
 
 "When we four adults were left alone, I ex- 
 plained my errand, insisting that Mr. Watt was in 
 possession of the bank's money. I enlarged upon the 
 possible scandal that would arise if I should fail to 
 accomplish my purpose. I told them that my convic- 
 tion had been that Mr. Watt knew that he had the 
 money, but he had persisted in denial. 'Now there 
 has just come into mind a solution of the whole 
 mystery,' I informed them. 'It is part of our business 
 to solve mysteries. Here is the true solution of this 
 one. Mr. Watt is a perfectly honest man, yet he has 
 the money to which he is not entitled. He presented 
 his check to the bank for $4,500.00; the teller paid 
 
40 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 him $5,500.00. Mr. Watt, in his haste, did not dis- 
 cover the fact, but put the large sum safely away on his 
 person. He thinks he put the whole amount in the 
 inside breast pocket of his waistcoat. He did thus dis- 
 pose of $4,500.00, but that pocket would not hold it 
 all and he thrust one package of $1,000.00 into the 
 inside breast pocket of the outer coat he wore. Re- 
 turning home, he took the money from the waistcoat 
 pocket and counted it right here on this table, just 
 as he has described. Finding it correct, he became 
 completely obvious to the fact that one package still 
 remained in his coat. He hung that coat upstairs in 
 the closet, and has not had it on since. If you will 
 go up and look in the pocket, you will find the money, 
 and all will be satisfactorily explained.' 
 
 "Excusing myself, I left the house, saying I 
 would be back in half an hour. When I returned, 
 they joyfully informed me that it was exactly as I 
 had foretold, and he handed me the package you now 
 have." 
 
 A tender of $100.00 to Mr. Warner, as personal 
 recognition of his work, was politely refused on the 
 ground that he received his compensation from Pink- 
 ertin, so could not accept gratuities. Pinkerton's bill 
 was for $28.50. 
 
 About this period, the President of the bank 
 invited me to dine with his family in their beautiful 
 home. This was an extraordinary compliment and 
 honor, which required some courage on my part to 
 accept. He and his family were quite up in the social 
 world. 
 
 At the table, I was presented to his wife, their 
 two daughters, and her sister. The elder of the two 
 girls was perhaps seventeen or eighteen years of age. 
 
Cashier and Manager of a Bank 41 
 
 The wife's sister was a maiden lady of thirty-five or 
 possibly forty — at least, she "looked it." After dinner 
 my host invited me into his "den", as he called it; 
 after a brief preliminary, he spoke as follows: 
 
 "Gage, you are about twenty- five years old?" 
 
 "Yes," I replied, "that is my age." 
 
 "Well, as Assistant Cashier of the bank, you have 
 made a good start, and there is no reason why you 
 should not go 'higher up', if you carry yourself well. 
 But there is something you lack, which you ought 
 to be thinking about, and that is a good wife." 
 
 "Yes," I rejoined, "that is true, but at present I 
 have no social connections which are favorable to 
 such an alliance, and in such a matter, one must 
 guide himself with prudence." 
 
 "You are quite right," he rejoined, "but I would 
 like to see you married, and I know just the woman 
 for you." 
 
 Here he paused for a moment, while there 
 flashed through my mind the story of the poor ap- 
 prentice who married his employer's daughter. I 
 thought to myself, "My host sees in me a worthy hus- 
 band for his daughter, and setting conventionalities: 
 aside, is about to propose her to me." It struck me as 
 queer, but quite agreeable. In this hopeful expectancy 
 I inquired if he would be good enough to name the 
 lady he had in mind. 
 
 "Surely," he answered, "the lady is my wife's 
 sister; you saw her at the table — a fine woman, some- 
 what your senior, but with some means of her own. 
 She would make a good wife, and I think you can 
 get her." 
 
 Imagine my shock and revulsion. I stammered* 
 my thanks, promising to reflect upon it; but I never 
 
42 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 wooed the lady. Indeed, I never saw her again, for I 
 quite forgot to make my after-dinner call. 
 
 Sixty years have passed since then; all the per- 
 sons around that table, except myself, have gone 
 where there is no marrying nor giving in marriage, 
 while I, who yet live, still remember with some 
 chagrin my disappointment. 
 
 Another incident, while I was yet a cashier in 
 the bank, may be worth telling. I smile as I think of 
 it now, but it was a serious matter then. 
 
 One morning, immediately after opening time, 
 Mr. R — , a well known and respectable lawyer, called 
 at my desk and inquired: "Do you open accounts with 
 women as depositors?" 
 
 "Why, yes, of course, if they are all right." 
 
 "Well, I thought I would ask before I intro- 
 duced my client, a Mrs. West of Sandusky — the 
 widow of Colonel West of the 45th Ohio Volunteers, 
 who was killed at Fort Donelson. She is moving to 
 Chicago with her two boys, with the idea that in this 
 growing city, there will be better opportunities for 
 their education and later on for business. She is look- 
 ing for property here and I am advising her as to 
 titles, etc. She has just received a remittance and wants 
 to open a bank account." 
 
 "All right," I answered, "bring her in." 
 
 Shortly afterward he returned with the lady, 
 whom he formally introduced to me. She was a slim, 
 demure person, dressed in dark garments, and ap- 
 peared to be about forty years of age. 
 
 Without delay, the lady produced from her 
 reticule a bank draft for $5,000.00, drawn by the First 
 National Bank of Sandusky, payable to the order of 
 Jane E. West, but not endorsed by her. She remarked 
 
Cashier and Manager of a Bank 43 
 
 apologetically, "I supposed they would send me the 
 money by express, but they sent this by mail. Is it as 
 good as money here?" 
 
 "Yes, I guess so," I replied, scanning it carefully. 
 "The bank is sound and its draft is the equivalent of 
 cash. Do you wish to draw money against it at once?" 
 
 "No," she answered, "not unless the party to 
 whom I made an offer of $3,400.00 should accept, 
 and want payment for his lot." 
 
 "If so, it will be all right," I told her. "If you 
 will endorse the draft, we will place the amount to 
 your credit." 
 
 When I handed the draft to her for endorse- 
 ment, the business-like way in which she handled it 
 excited my surprise, indicating some familiarity with 
 instruments of that nature. A doubt and instinctive 
 suspicion flashed through my mind, and while she 
 was writing her name across the back of the draft, I 
 scrutinized every lineament of her face. 
 
 Again taking the draft from her hand, I studied 
 it carefully, but discovering nothing to justify my 
 flash of doubt, I completed the transaction and gave 
 her a "pass book" with a credit entry of $5,000.00. 
 Two or three days later she again came to me, stating 
 that she had closed that real estate purchase, and 
 would like to get the $3,400.00 necessary to obtain 
 her deed. 
 
 That amount was paid to her, and with thanks 
 for my courtesy, she withdrew. My "flash of suspicion" 
 had left my mind a little troubled without any good 
 reason. The draft went forward to New York, and was 
 duly paid. Then only was my anxiety relieved. So it 
 would have remained for some time if I had not 
 some days later chanced to meet the lawyer, Mr. R — . 
 
44 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 "How is our friend, Mrs. West?" I asked, "I 
 have not seen her lately." 
 
 "She was called back to Sandusky by the illness 
 of one of her boys," he replied. "She will return 
 soon." 
 
 "How long have you known Mrs. West," I 
 questioned. 
 
 "Only since she came to Chicago." 
 
 "Is that so? From the way you spoke of her to 
 me, I supposed she was an old acquaintance. Who 
 introduced her to you?" 
 
 "My friend, Mr. Tucker, of the Briggs House." 
 
 "Did he bring her to your office?" 
 
 "No, he sent her to me with a line or two, in- 
 troducing her as a guest of the hotel who desired the 
 services of a lawyer." 
 
 At this answer, my flash of suspicion became a 
 certainty. "Well, Mr. R— ," I rejoined, "you have 
 been stung and led me into a trap; the woman is a 
 swindler. She either stole the draft from the mails, 
 or it is an outright forgery. You and I will go at once 
 to Mr. Tucker, and learn if we can who she really is." 
 
 At this suggestion he laughed aloud, scoffed at 
 my fears, declaring that the woman was "straight 
 and square." Nevertheless, under a moral compulsion 
 he went with me to the Briggs House, where we 
 learned that a woman whom none of them knew, had 
 registered as "Jane E. West." She had no baggage 
 other than a hand bag, and after several days had 
 disappeared, leaving only an unpaid bill. Even yet 
 Mr. R — was incredulous as to her character. That 
 night I sent a wire to the First National Bank at 
 Sandusky, asking if they knew Mrs. West, and if 
 the $5,000.00 draft was regular. 
 
Cashier and Manager of a Bank 45 
 
 The answer was prompt: "We do not know 
 Mrs. West; the draft you describe was drawn for the 
 sum of $5.00." 
 
 The cat was out of the bag, and I had been 
 scratched by its claws. There is more to this story, 
 but it would take too long to tell it. Two years later 
 we had the woman under arrest. She was then the 
 mother of a three months' old babe, her husband 
 being a respectable farmer in Michigan. He made 
 partial restitution, and the woman was released be- 
 cause our own lawyer and the District Attorney both 
 advised that no jury would ever convict a woman 
 with a baby in her arms for any crime committed 
 against a bank. She was later twice arrested for similar 
 successful frauds, and finally died in an Eastern 
 prison, while serving a five-year sentence for forgery. 
 
VII 
 
 I have spoken of the commercial depression and 
 hard times which followed the panic of 1857. In 
 1859 the political world was agitated with the ap- 
 proaching national election for the presidency. 
 
 In June, 1 860, Abraham Lincoln was nominated 
 at the Republican Convention in Chicago, and I cast 
 for him my first vote the following November. His 
 election stirred to the depths the slave-holding South, 
 and the hoarse cry of secession was fierce and loud. 
 Few believed that those seditious cries would ripen 
 into war. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln was peacefully inaugurated on the 
 4th of March, 1861. In April, Fort Sumpter, in 
 Charleston harbor, was captured by Southern troops, 
 and thus war against our Government was inaugu- 
 rated. Lincoln called for 75,000 volunteers to sup- 
 press the rebellion. I shall not attempt even to sketch 
 the four years of terrible conflict which followed. 
 
 The war forced the Government to become an 
 enormous purchaser of material and supplies of all 
 sorts. This stimulated production of every nature, ad- 
 vanced prices of all commodities and broke the pre- 
 vious partial paralysis in trade and industry. Wages 
 were advanced, speculation became rife, and what 
 the world called "prosperity" set it. The banking 
 system, such as it was, was wholly inadequate to the 
 altered conditions, and a National Banking Act was 
 passed, to provide for the new emergencies. It was 
 found impossible to maintain gold as the standard 
 of payments. The Government made its disburse- 
 
 —46— 
 
Effects of the Chicago Fire 47 
 
 merits in its own notes (greenbacks) , which were 
 made legal tender for debts. With rising prices for 
 all commodities, credits were expanded. Gold rose to 
 a high premium measured by the new paper money. 
 New banks were started with authority to issue their 
 notes, based upon the pledge of Government bonds, 
 and so the tide of apparent growing wealth rose until 
 the fatal re-action of 1873. 
 
 In Chicago, a brief interruption was experienced 
 by the great fire of October 9th, 1871, which prac- 
 tically destroyed the city. Some time previous to the 
 great fire, I had changed my bank connection and was 
 now Cashier and practically Manager of the First 
 National Bank. 
 
 There was one incident which revealed human 
 characteristics in trying situations. It was Tuesday 
 after the fire of Sunday, before one could traverse 
 the burnt area of the business district. On that day, 
 I easily found my way to the wreck of what once had 
 been our pride as a "fire-proof" bank building. Its 
 windows were out, its furniture completely destroyed; 
 the rear wall had fallen outward for several floors 
 from the top; the roof was gone, and from the nearly 
 intact banking floor, a large expanse of sky could 
 be seen. Through a side hallway I found my way over 
 fallen rubbish to the doors of the vaults which pro- 
 tected our cash and books. After much effort, these 
 two doors were opened and the contents of both 
 found intact. The books, which would show the true 
 situation of the bank, were eagerly sought and care- 
 fully studied. It was manifest that the loans to the 
 Chicago public must be greatly imperiled and losses 
 to an unknown extent be suffered. Great then was 
 my satisfaction when I found that, placing no value 
 
48 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 at all upon loans made in the city itself, there was yet 
 enough in cash securities and loans to dealers in out- 
 side towns and cities, to enable the bank to pay all 
 its liabilities promptly. 
 
 Filled with a sense of triumph that the bank 
 would survive the great disaster, I closed the vaults 
 and took my way to the street. In the ruined hallway 
 stood four men not known to each other but all rec- 
 ognized by me as heavy depositors, to all of whom were 
 due large sums. I thought of the scripture declara- 
 tion: "Where the carcass lies, the eagles gather." 
 
 The first of the four was a foreign gentleman, 
 who as a private lender of money, maintained a large 
 balance. Approaching me, he inquired in an agitated 
 half whisper, "Have you been in the Bank? Is the 
 money safe?" 
 
 "Yes," I answered. 
 
 "Well," he continued, "I have here my check 
 for $30,000.00. It is for nearly what the bank owes 
 me. If you will hand me the money, I will give you 
 $6,000.00 for yourself." 
 
 I refused, saying, "You will get your money 
 when others can get theirs — not before." 
 
 "You refuse my offer? It seems to me that 
 $6,000.00 is a good deal of money for a man to make 
 at a time like this, is it not?" 
 
 "That may be, but if I should accept your prop- 
 osition, I would not make the money. I know your 
 kind. Within a week the bank will open for business. 
 You will then learn that your claim was perfectly 
 good, and I would be forced to give back the $6,000 
 bribe you now offer. Get out!" 
 
 He left, and when within a week the bank re- 
 sumed business in a private residence outside the 
 
My Fathei 
 
Effects of the Chicago Fire 49 
 
 burnt district, he was the first to present himself at 
 the paying teller's window. His thirty-odd thousand 
 dollars was paid in full, and I never saw him to speak 
 with again. 
 
 The second man was a prosperous banker from 
 Jacksonville, Illinois. He extended his hand in 
 friendly greeting and delivered himself thusly: "I 
 don't want anything; I ran up last night to take a 
 look at the ruins. We have a large credit due us on 
 your books, near two hundred thousand dollars. We 
 had accumulated it for a special object which this 
 fire will cause us to postpone; therefore, we have no 
 present use for the funds. It looks as if you were in 
 bad shape here, and it will take time for you to 
 straighten things up. Just treat us as well as you will 
 other people; that's all we ask. Good-bye and good 
 luck." He was hearty and sincere and his words were 
 fraught with encouragement. 
 
 The third man I recognized as a gentleman 
 farmer from an adjoining county. He approached me 
 and said, "I am Mr. B — , County Treasurer of 
 — County; and my bond with securities is up with 
 the County. I have $25,000.00 of its money in your 
 bank. If I lose it, I am a ruined man. Last night I 
 did not sleep, and now if you can, I wish you would 
 tell me the worst, so that I may know where I stand." 
 
 "Well, Mr. B — , will you believe me if I tell 
 you?" 
 
 "Yes, yes, tell me — I will believe you!" 
 
 "Then here are the facts: the bank has suffered 
 a heavy loss, but it is still sound and can pay its debts. 
 If you will come to our new office one week from to- 
 day, we will then pay you the entire sum, if you then 
 desire to withdraw it." 
 
50 Memoirs of Lyman }. Gage 
 
 He did not speak for a moment. Turning partly 
 away, he covered his face with his hands and wept 
 convulsively, tears of joy no doubt. 
 
 The fourth and last man was a Hebrew cattle 
 man and packing house owner, in the stock yards — 
 a man of wealth and large affairs. Seeing him, I 
 thought he was there with the supposed instincts of 
 his race and would bring forward some proposition 
 for his own advantage, which would prove embarrass- 
 ing to me. I determined to test him out. He had kept 
 in the background and had not heard my talk with 
 the others. Coming forward then, he extended his 
 hand with the question, "How is it?" 
 
 Throwing my hands upward into the air, I 
 snapped my fingers. "It's that way with the bank," 
 I exclaimed. "You are smart enough to see it, aren't 
 you?" 
 
 "Yes," he responded, "anybody can see that, but 
 I am not asking about the bank, I am asking about 
 you — how is it with you?" "When it's that way with 
 the bank (repeating the previous gesture) , it's that 
 way with me." 
 
 "Just what I thought," he said, "but don't be 
 discouraged. If the bank never starts again you can 
 make more money for yourself in five years in my 
 office at the yards than you can in twenty in the bank. 
 Have you any money in your pockets?" 
 
 "Yes," I answered "between two and three dol- 
 lars." 
 
 "That's no money," he declared. "Even your 
 groceryman might refuse to trust you now." By this 
 time he was highly excited and very voluble. He 
 plunged his hand into his pocket and drew forth a 
 large wad of bank notes — five hundred dollars or 
 
Effects of the Chicago Fire H 
 
 more I should guess. Dividing the roll into two parts, 
 about equal, he pushed one of them toward me, with- 
 out counting. "Here take this, God knows you may 
 need it and I know you would not take from the bank 
 until all have the same opportunity. Take itl" he 
 repeated, "And if you need more, it's yours. I have 
 plenty; $50,000.00 is now in transit from New York 
 by express. Remember this, Morris (referring to him- 
 self) would divide with you his last dollar, if you 
 should need it." 
 
 To his balance in the bank, he made no volun- 
 tary reference. He would have been excusable for 
 doing that, for it exceeded $165,000. As I looked at 
 the man and listened to his hearty, generous words, 
 my heart grew warm within me. I could no longer 
 play the dejected part I had assumed. Declining to 
 accept his offer of cash, I told him that all was well 
 with the bank; it could promptly pay all claims and 
 have some portion of its capital left. There was no 
 craft, nor guile, in the man's thoughts, words or pur- 
 poses. He spoke as a man uplifted by the spirit which 
 animated him. For twenty-five years I was, through 
 the bank, in close touch with him. Dealings between 
 him and the bank aggregated many, many millions. 
 He was always just and fair; our personal relations 
 were cordial and friendly to the end; there were 
 never any business transactions between us by which 
 either he or I profited. The man has gone from the 
 earth now, but he lives in my memory as a loyal, lov- 
 ing friend, worthy of honor and gratitude. 
 
 0** 
 
VIII 
 
 The banker's calling, like the policeman's is not 
 in all respects a happvone. The activities of both 
 may for considerable periods be undisturbed by ex- 
 citing events or trying episodes, yet both are exposed 
 to dangers. Their perils are real but different. In the 
 case of both, vigilance, attention and close observa- 
 tion is indispensable. 
 
 The bank manager must "watch out" in several 
 directions. If he is at the head of an institution of 
 some size and importance, he is responsible for the 
 integrity and honest discharge of duties of a large 
 staff of sub-officers and clerks. Exposed to tempta- 
 tions from without, or despairing of the slow gains 
 of ordinary service, they may be lured by expensive 
 self-indulgence into doubtful ways of speculation, 
 and may be led to betray their high trust, not only 
 ruining themselves, but bringing loss, if not disaster, 
 to the bank. 
 
 While the zeal and fidelity of bank men really 
 reflect high credit upon human nature as a whole, the 
 betrayals are numerous enough to demand the watch- 
 ful eyes of the manager. Of such instances I could 
 cite a number in my own experience. I will narrate 
 one because of its human interest. 
 
 Willie D — was an efficient and trusted book- 
 keeper who enjoyed the full confidence of the bank 
 manager. But one day the lady with whom Willie 
 boarded came to the bank on some business, and so 
 met the manager. Incidentally she asked after Willie, 
 
 —52— 
 
The Dishonest Bank Clerk 53 
 
 saying: "He boards with me, and I feel toward him 
 as if he were one of my own boys." 
 
 "That's fine," said the manager. "I hope he pays 
 promptly." 
 
 "Yes," answered the rather garrulous lady, 
 "generally he does. He did get behind about a hun- 
 dred dollars awhile ago, but some one who owed him 
 money sent him a check for $500.00 and he used 
 part of it to square his account with me." 
 
 "How did you happen to know about his getting 
 this check? asked the manager. 
 
 "Oh, he gave it to me to get it cashed for him." 
 
 "Do you recall the bank on which is was drawn?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, on your bank." 
 
 "How long ago was this?" continued the man- 
 ager. % 
 
 "Why I can tell you exactly, because it was the 
 day my daughter was married — " (naming the date) . 
 
 "And you turned the money over to him when 
 he came home?" 
 
 "Yes. He didn't want to draw the cash himself 
 because if the boys in the bank knew he had money, 
 some of 'em would be trying to borrow from him." 
 
 "Oh, I see," said the manager. "You don't hap- 
 pen to remember whose name was signed to the 
 check?" 
 
 "No, I can't recollect the name, but it began 
 with 'H'." 
 
 The interview left the manager with a troubled 
 mind. "Why," he asked himself, "did Willie use this 
 woman in the matter? How did it happen that the 
 check bearing the name of *H' was one that would 
 in the regular course of business come into his hands 
 as bookkeeper, to be charged up?" 
 
54 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 That night, with the date of the transaction in 
 mind, and after the clerks had all left the office, he 
 made a close inspection of Willie's book, to trace, 
 if possible, the whole transaction. He found from 
 the Paying Teller's book that such a check had been 
 cashed, and of necessity had been passed on to Willie; 
 but alas, there was no charge against any "H" account 
 to correspond with the teller's entry. He did find a 
 debit to "Certified Ck. Account" for which no 
 voucher appeared in the day's work. His conclusion 
 was quickly reached. Willie had invented a check, 
 attaching the name "H" as the signer. He knew that 
 when offered to the teller for payment, it would be 
 referred to him to pass on as being all right. He knew 
 that in due course it would come into his hands, when 
 he could charge it, not to "H" who had no account 
 on his book, but to some other account with a large 
 credit balance. This he did, then destroyed the check 
 so that no evidence of the crime remained. It was an 
 ingenious device on the part of Willie. It might 
 have long remained undiscovered, except for the in- 
 nocent prattling of his landlady. 
 
 Another question arose also in the manager's 
 mind. How many times had Willie repeated this 
 successful financial trick? 
 
 The next morning Willie appeared at his usual 
 hour, but was intercepted by the manager, who in- 
 vited him into his private office. He promptly faced 
 Willie with the facts. Overcome with emotion, the 
 young man burst into convulsive tears, and confessed 
 to his dereliction. It was a pitiful scene, a painful 
 hour for the manager, who expressed his own grief, 
 pain and disappointment, and asked of Willie: "What 
 ought I to do with you?" 
 
The Dishonest Bank Clerk H 
 
 "Oh, I don't know, I don't know; send me to 
 prison I suppose. Oh, it's awful; it's awful I My poor 
 father and mother — it will kill them." 
 
 "Let us take the matter as calmly as possible," 
 said the manager. "How many times have you re- 
 peated the act? How much money have you wrong- 
 fully taken? We, of course, can find it out, but it is 
 much better that you confess." 
 
 Regaining in some degree his self-control, Willie 
 declared: "This is my only offense. You can find 
 nothing, nothing. This occurred six months ago; I 
 have been in hell ever since; I wish I had died before 
 I did it." 
 
 "If it be true, Willie, that this is your sole of- 
 fense, it will prove that you are not wholly lost. To 
 carry for six months the knowledge of your guilt, to 
 know that to repeat it was not difficult, and to steadily 
 resist the temptation, shows that you still have char- 
 acter and cherish moral motives. No, you are not to 
 go to the State Prison. Your father has a good farm 
 in the West; you must go to him and tell him all. 
 Ask him to let you remain with him for a year. Work 
 as much as you may be able, get into touch with 
 nature, study the flowers, listen to the birds; get this 
 nervous fever of the city out of your blood. If you do 
 this, if it shall appear that you have told me the 
 truth, if you confess to your father and he shall so 
 write to me, if you stay on the farm for a year, we 
 will never make any criminal charge against you. If, 
 on the other hand, you have lied to me, or if you 
 shall fail in the particulars demanded, we will follow 
 you across earth and sea to prosecute and punish 
 you." 
 
 Humbly and thankfully Willie took his depar- 
 
56 Memoirs of Lyman ]. Gage 
 
 ture for his father's home and faithfully kept all the 
 conditions exacted of him. 
 
 At the end of a year and a day, the young man 
 presented himself at my office. His appearance was 
 good, his eyes bright; and the color of his cheeks gave 
 evidence of health and vigor. 
 
 " I have come back to the city." he said, "after 
 keeping my promise to you. The farm life is intoler- 
 able, and if possible, I must find employment here; 
 may I refer to you in seeking it?" 
 
 "No," I answered "that would be inadvisable, 
 because I would be obliged to tell the facts. I am 
 sorry, but you see how it is." 
 
 However, he did find a place in another bank, 
 and a year or two later I indirectly learned that he 
 was giving perfect satisfaction in his new employment. 
 Two years later Willie again called upon me, saying, 
 "I have come to ask your advice. I am working in 
 the Union National Bank; have been faithful in every 
 way. The directors have ordered that all the clerks 
 must furnish bonds for fidelity. Two of the written 
 questions, if truthfully answered, will be fatal to my 
 application for a bond. The questions are: ('1st) 
 Name the place of your last previous employment. 
 (2nd) What was the reason for your separation from 
 that service?' Now what am I to do; can you advise 
 me?" 
 
 "Yes, I can advise you, but my advice will not 
 be easy for you to follow; if acted upon, it may result 
 in the rejection of your application. My advice is that 
 you go to the manager of the bonding company, and 
 tell him the whole truth. If you do that, you can refer 
 him to me." 
 
 The afternoon of that same day, the agent of 
 
The Dishonest Bank Clerk 57 
 
 the bonding company called and talked with me. He 
 said that William D— 's misappropriation of money, 
 when employed by our bank, would, of course, com- 
 pel the company to reject his application. 
 
 I argued: "To tell you the truth to his own great 
 prejudice must have required a high degree of moral 
 courage on his part. Why do you say, 'Of course, we 
 must reject his application?' You know the worst 
 concerning him; the fact he revealed to you is, I 
 believe, his only offense, and he is deeply repentant. 
 He has burned his fingers in the fire of that single 
 transgression. You will insure forty or fifty of his 
 fellow clerks, of whom at the best you can know but 
 little. You take risks for a consideration. Is he not, 
 in your opinion, as good, or even a better hazard, 
 than the average? Why ruin him because he was 
 honest with you?" 
 
 "Well," he answered, "you put a new light on 
 the proposition; we will consider it." 
 
 They did consider it, and in due course included 
 "Willie" in the list of those for whom they issued 
 their bonds. 
 
 So far, so good; but wait. Twenty years had 
 gone by with Willie still employed in the Union 
 National Bank. In a distant city I picked up a Chicago 
 Tribune, and was shocked by the headlines, which 
 announced that Willie D — , the bookkeeper, arrested 
 for defrauding the bank of more than $20,000.00! 
 
 The psychologist may find in this food for 
 thought and study. 
 
IX 
 
 The incident I have cited, though of no great im- 
 portance, serves to surest the hazards of bank- 
 ing, through the errors and defaults of its own trusted 
 employees. Generally speaking, honest errors are 
 quickly brought to light, and can usually be rectified. 
 Willful delinquencies and thefts are usually dis- 
 covered before involving the bank in serious loss. 
 An exception to this sometimes occurs, as in the case 
 of a Boston cashier, implicitly trusted, who gradually 
 converted to his own use over half a million before 
 being detected. But it is from the outside as well that 
 the bank may suffer loss. It is an inviting mark for 
 the predatory skill of the forger, the expert methods 
 of the confidence man, and the more brutal robber 
 or breaker of safes. 
 
 During my rather long experience I encountered 
 several more or less successful attempts from some of 
 the professionals now referred to. A book detailing 
 several of these would be interesting to those who 
 love detective stories. To illustrate one way in which 
 outsiders take advantage of the bank, I narrate the 
 following case, showing how the rascal often leaves 
 some door open which leads to his discovery and 
 punishment. 
 
 My attention was called to the fact that some 
 time previously the bank had paid out $900.00 
 against a draft perfectly good in itself, but worthless 
 to the bank, since it was claimed that the endorse- 
 ment by the payee was a forgery. To save ourselves 
 from loss, it was necessary to prove the endorsement 
 
 —58— 
 
Postmaster 'Jacob Klopper's" Forgery 59 
 
 to be bona fide and genuine. The draft was payable 
 to the order of Jacob Klopper and that name was 
 endorsed on the back. But where and who was the 
 "Jacob Klopper" to whom our money had been paid? 
 
 Investigation showed that the draft had come to 
 us in a letter dated at P — , a considerable town in 
 central Illinois. The letter purported to be written 
 by Jacob Klopper, and requested that the $900.00 
 be placed to the credit of the writer, subject to his 
 check or checks. By oversight we had complied with 
 the request; it had slipped through in the day's work 
 and an account with Jacob Klopper had been opened, 
 of which he had availed himself by drawing checks 
 signed "Jacob Klopper." 
 
 Who was this man? Was he the legitimate Jacob 
 Klopper, or had some one, getting wrongful posses- 
 sion of the draft, impersonated the rightful owner 
 and successfully defrauded the bank? In seeking pos- 
 sible information, we wrote to the postmaster at 
 P— , asking him if he knew Mr. Jacob Klopper, 
 frankly stating the reasons for our inquiry. The 
 postmaster, Mr—, promptly replied that he had a 
 vague recollection of a man by that name who had at 
 ©me time received letters through that office; but h. 
 did not know the man nor anything about him. The 
 original letter, signed "Jacob Klopper," was on my 
 desk when the reply of the postmaster arrived. I was 
 struck by a resemblance in the handwriting of the 
 two letters; a close inspection revealed the certainty 
 that both letters were written by the same hand, that 
 of Postmaster A — . How simple the conjecture that 
 the postmaster himself had intercepted the letter en- 
 closing the draft to Jacob Klopper, and "tempted by 
 the devil," had forged the endorsement; had himself 
 
60 Memoirs of Lyman }. Gage 
 
 written us the letter signed Jacob Klopper, and by 
 this means, converted the sum of $900.00 to his own 
 use. 
 
 With this as a working hypothesis, we made in- 
 quiries concerning the character and standing of 
 Postmaster A—. We learned that, with a partner he 
 was operating a large general store; that he was re- 
 garded as "prosperous and highly respectable," in 
 fact, was a leading member of a large religious or- 
 ganization in the town. 
 
 Quite convinced that he was nevertheless the 
 guilty man, we addressed him again with some spec- 
 ious inquiries concerning Jacob Klopper, without 
 revealing the suspicion attaching to him. Again he 
 replied in a most friendly way, expressing his sym- 
 pathy and his regret that he could be of no better 
 service. He also said that he would be in the city 
 soon, and would drop in to see us. Faithful to this 
 declaration, he did in fact present himself to me at 
 the bank. He was a man of forty-five or so, of good 
 appearance and gentlemanly in manner. A Prince 
 Albert coat, and soft, wide-brimmed black hat, gave 
 him the outward appearance of a model of respecta- 
 bility. I invited him into my private room, excusing 
 myself for a moment, and sent a man to the police 
 station for an officer in plain clothes. Returning to 
 Mr. A — , I referred to the Klopper episode, and asked 
 if he could throw any more light upon it. 
 
 He had tried, he said, to refresh his memory, and 
 he had a vague recollection of a man by some such 
 name, who had on one or more occasions applied for 
 mail. As he recalled, he was a short man with a short 
 beard, and he had the impression that he was a cattle 
 buyer, who now and then came into that section to 
 
Postmaster 'Jacob Klopper's" Forgery 61 
 
 buy cattle. He was sorry he could do nothing more 
 to help us, but would "keep his eye out should the 
 man appear again." 
 
 Observing that the officer had arrived, I ad- 
 dressed him as follows: "You have related a plausible 
 story. Now I will tell you one which conforms the 
 truth. You have lived at P — for some years; you are 
 much respected; have quite a large store; sometimes 
 preach on a Sunday; you are the postmaster. You stole 
 a letter addressed to Jacob Klopper, opened it and 
 found a bank draft payable to Jacob Klopper; you 
 forged his name, and realized for yourself the 
 $900.00. You are a thief and a forger. An officer of 
 the law is outside that door; he will escort you to 
 jail, and in due course you will wear convict garb in 
 the State Prison. How do you like my story?" 
 
 This rather severe charge did not seem to excite 
 any particular emotion in him. He sat quietly for a 
 minute or two, then remarked: "You could not make 
 my friends and neighbors believe it. I, myself, will 
 neither deny nor admit. If you proceed against me, 
 it will, however, be expensive and injurious to me, 
 and I would prefer to make good your loss than to 
 be exposed to the trouble you threaten. Would that 
 be satisfactory to you?" 
 
 To this I rejoined: "You can pay the $900.00; 
 it is your duty to do so. But I can make you no prom- 
 ise of immunity from punishment for the crime." 
 
 "Yes," he replied, "I see, but if you will accept 
 it, I prefer to know the amount and leave the other 
 question to you." 
 
 "All right," I answered. "Have you the money 
 with you?" 
 
 "No, but by going to Bowen Brothers' office, 
 
62 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 I can get it, as I have an open book account with that 
 firm." 
 
 "Well you can go and get it, the officer will be 
 on your heels, and if you try to escape him, he will 
 arrest you." 
 
 This story seems long drawn out, but as it ends 
 in a comedy climax, I will tell it to the end. 
 
 After the lapse of a half hour or so, back came 
 Postmaster A—, the officer, and with them the head 
 of Bowen Brothers. With some excitement the latter 
 demanded what it was that we were trying to "put 
 over" on his friend A — . 
 
 We answered, "Nothing. As we understand it, 
 Mr. A — is desirous to redress a wrong we have suf- 
 fered by paying over to us the sum of $900.00. It is a 
 voluntary proposition on his part, and if you owe 
 him money, why interfere with his good intention?" 
 
 "We do not owe him money, on the contrary he 
 owes us $1,200.00; but he is a responsible man and 
 we are willing to advance him $900.00 if it is all 
 right. Still we don't want to see him held up. What 
 is the trouble anyway; why should he pay you $900?" 
 
 I briefly explained the situation to Mr. Bowen, 
 who, though surprised and shocked, was convinced 
 that his friend A — was in a bad scrape. His attitude 
 of mind suddenly changed. He said, "Under these 
 circumstances, we want the $1,200.00 he owes us; we 
 will not advance him any more." 
 
 After reflecting a bit, Mr. Bowen then brought 
 forward this proposal: "We want our money, you 
 want yours. Let him give us an order on his partner 
 for $2,100.00 — that will cover us both. We will send 
 our attorney by night train to P — , and demand pay- 
 ment. If he gets the money, all right; if he does not, 
 
Postmaster 'Jacob Klopper's" Forgery 63 
 
 we will seize the stock of goods by attachment pro- 
 ceedings. In either case, we will promptly pay you 
 the $900.00 as soon as our attorney takes action. In 
 the meantime, your officer here can keep Mr. A — in 
 his custody." 
 
 This being satisfactory to Postmaster A—, was 
 jointly agreed to by all. 
 
 The following day the lawyer wired: "All right," 
 and Bowen Brothers gave us their check for the 
 $900.00. 
 
 During the interim, I visited the U. S. District 
 Attorney, laid the whole case before him, showing 
 him the only evidence we really had of the post- 
 master's criminal action, and asked him as to his duty 
 and mine. After going over the matter, he declared, 
 "There is no doubt in my mind of the man's guilt, 
 but he could not be convicted by a jury on the mere 
 evidence of a similarity in handwriting. He could 
 prove his good standing and reputation, and the jury 
 would acquit him. Let him go back home, and I will 
 put the matter in the hands of the Government Mail 
 Inspector for further investigation. 
 
 When Mr. A — learned that we had realized our 
 money, he asked if he might be permitted to return 
 home. To this I replied in the affirmative, and he left 
 our office. I never saw him afterwards. 
 
 But his troubles were not yet ended. Reaching 
 home, he was informed by his partner that the day 
 previous he had paid the Bowen draft for $2,100.00, 
 but on reflection had become convinced that it was 
 some kind of a swindle by a confidence man. To pro- 
 tect himself, he had sworn out a warrant, and that 
 the man who had collected his money, was now safely 
 locked up in jail. Postmaster A — took immediate 
 
64 Memoirs of Lyman J, Gage 
 
 action to liberate the falsely accused Bowen lawyer. 
 The latter, however, demanded damages for false 
 imprisonment, and Postmaster A— paid $2,000.00 
 in settlement to the imprisoned lawyer, to soothe his 
 injured dignity, etc. 
 
Cornelia 
 
Ihave enumerated some of the dangers incurred 
 by the banker in the ordinary daily conduct of 
 his business. To guard against these requires watch- 
 ful vigilance and care. It is, however, in another direc- 
 tion that his chief losses are incurred. 
 
 The banker makes his profit, if any, by loaning 
 to the public at interest a portion of the funds held 
 on deposit by him. Obliged to pay to those to whom 
 he is indebted, he must realize payment from those 
 who may become indebted to him. An old adage, and 
 a true one, declares that "Favor and benevolence are 
 not the attributes of good banking; a rigid perform- 
 ance of contracts is its only sure foundation." Prop- 
 erly conducted, banking renders a most useful service 
 to the commercial and industrial activities of the 
 country. 
 
 For a little more than forty years my life was 
 closely identified with it. There were periods of 
 prosperity and those of adversity and trial, recurring 
 in exact ratio to the experiences of prosperity or ad- 
 versity enjoyed or suffered by the business community 
 as a whole. 
 
 During my time, the adverse periods were caused 
 by or closely associated with the rising or falling peri- 
 ods which seem to mark with almost a rhythmic reg- 
 ularity the industrial and commercial life of the 
 country. Thus when I happily secured a clerk's posi- 
 tion in a Chicago bank in the year 1858, the country 
 was suffering from what was designated as the panic 
 of 1857. Trade was much depressed, business failures 
 
 —65— 
 
66 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 were numerous, industry was stagnant, unemploy- 
 ment wide-spread, and the general period of social 
 distress hardly less acute than is now observable as a 
 reaction from the great war. 
 
 Quite slowly, improved conditions set in. Enter- 
 prise gained new courage, credit was restored, labor 
 came into employment and the signs of prosperity 
 reappeared. 
 
 Unhappily these new and better days were not 
 to be permanent. With the election of Lincoln in 
 1860, and the rising menace of the Civil War, reaction 
 again became manifest. Distrust and fear infested the 
 atmosphere, quite needlessly so, for with the actual 
 outbreak of hostilities between the North and South, 
 a new and enormous demand for goods and service 
 started the wheels of industry. Stimulated production 
 of raw materials created new demands for industrial 
 services and put wages at a premium. 
 
 The Government, in support of its finances, is- 
 sued its notes to circulate as money, which quickly 
 depreciated in value as measured by gold coin. Prices 
 in terms of the paper money, rose rapidly, and specu- 
 lation became rife in land, commodities and invest- 
 ment securities. The "profiteer" amassed wealth and 
 general reckless expenditure marked the period. But 
 as always happens, the economic laws thus violated 
 wreaked their own revenge, and in the year 1873, the 
 props to this artificial structure gave way and the 
 whole fabric was badly shaken, or fell with ruin. 
 Again was repeated the story of 1857; again by slow 
 degrees, the country successfully struggled to regain 
 the normal life. 
 
 In 1884 and 1893, and later in 1907, reactions 
 
General Reflections 67 
 
 were experienced, the symptoms and consequences 
 of which wore the same familiar features. 
 
 At the time of this writing, 1922, we are again 
 passing through the slough of despond from which 
 we will again emerge and reach normal ground. 
 
XI 
 
 The summer of 1886 in Chicago was marked by a 
 civic tragedy quite unprecedented in its munici- 
 pal history. It was then a city of some four or six hun- 
 dred thousand people, the most heterogeneous in its 
 racial mixtures of any city of its size. 
 
 In this diversity, there had sprung up every form 
 of radical political idea. The tenets of Socialism and 
 the destructive doctrines of Anarchism were boldly 
 advocated by a radical press, and fulminated by am- 
 bitious orators, who proclaimed on street corners and 
 elsewhere, the "coming revolution." For some time 
 little attention was paid to such assemblies by the 
 police authorities, until they became a menace to 
 the public peace. These movements of the Anarchistic 
 groups finally culminated in the "Hay Market Mas- 
 sacre." In the large square, one evening in the month 
 of May, a large crowd had gathered to listen to the 
 harangue of the Anarchist orators. Fearing trouble, 
 a squad of police had been detailed to guard against 
 violent outbreaks which might be incited by the fiery 
 advocates of disorder. While the meeting was yet in 
 its earlier stages, some miscreant threw a bomb into 
 the ranks of the police. Its explosion killed outright 
 several of the police and wounded many more. 
 
 This awful crime against the social order excited 
 universal horror, and the agents of the law undertook 
 to identify and bring to justice those most immedi- 
 ately responsible for the outrage. Eight men were 
 arrested, convicted and sentenced to death. Upon 
 three of them the penalty was carried out; one com- 
 
 —68— 
 
Birth of the Economic Club 69 
 
 mitted suicide while awaiting sentence; and the other 
 four less responsible had their sentence commuted to 
 life imprisonment. This retribution silenced the pre- 
 vious noisy advocates of destruction and drove into 
 seclusion their sympathizers. 
 
 The facts revealed led me and others of like 
 mind to consider whether repression by force ought 
 not to be supplemented by moral methods. It was 
 evident that the social fabric was being torn by 
 mutual misunderstandings, which might be healed 
 or at least mitigated by a better comprehension of the 
 ideas and motives which actuate men in their rela- 
 tions to each other in the social state. While violence 
 and revolution should be put down with an iron 
 hand, should not reason, toleration and good will be 
 invoked as aids to secure a safer and better state? Out 
 of these reflections grew a small organization which 
 assumed the name of the Economic Club. I confess 
 that I was interested and to a degree influential in 
 that movement. 
 
 The organization consisted of only twenty-four 
 members. It was purposely constituted of represen- 
 tatives of various ideas and doctrines. 
 
 Thus there were lawyers, ministers of the Gospel, 
 business men, trade unionists, single taxers, one prom- 
 inent Socialist — an eloquent advocate of that doc- 
 trine, one "philosophical" Anarchist, and perhaps 
 other "radicals" in our group. At first it was under- 
 stood that our meetings should be in private, where 
 each member could set forth, without reserve, but 
 with patience and courtesy, his theories and the sup- 
 porting reasons therefor. 
 
 The members of the club came together once 
 a month, and lacking any better place, met at my 
 
70 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 house. There was much conversational discussion, 
 very little formal debate. 
 
 Out of our joint meetings there grew a belief 
 that the social welfare could be to some extent ad- 
 vanced if, under the auspices and control of the club, 
 public meetings could be arranged for the orderly 
 discussion of the ideas and "isms" which were split- 
 ting up into hostile groups, many well disposed, if 
 misguided people. 
 
 Accordingly, a commodious hall, with a seating 
 capacity of five hundred, was engaged for eight con- 
 secutive Sunday nights. For this period, for three suc- 
 cessive years, public meetings were held. We called 
 these "Economic Conferences." 
 
 At each of these meetings a representative of 
 some doctrine, radical or conservative, was invited to 
 address the audience for one hour. The speaker could 
 be questioned for another hour by persons in the 
 audience — each questioner being limited to one 
 question — not an argument or attack on the speaker. 
 A judicial moderator, sitting on the platform, en- 
 forced the rules. The first open meeting was held in 
 a music hall on Madison Street. 
 
 One or two of our club members looked forward 
 to it with trepidation. They suggested that a squad 
 of police in plain clothes would be advisable, but this 
 suggestion was rejected as unwise. The house was 
 packed with people, but neither then, nor on any 
 other occasion, was a disorderly act committed, nor 
 a word insulting to the speaker expressed. 
 
 The audiences were always large, composed in 
 the main of what the French would call the lower 
 "bourgeoisie." The well-to-do were feebly represented 
 — the more the pity. From these meetings they might 
 
Birth of the Economic Club 71 
 
 have learned much to which, in their superior wis- 
 dom, they remained blind. 
 
 My participation in the movement was looked 
 upon with suspicion and contempt. The fact that I 
 was prominent in it damaged me (at least for a time) 
 in the eyes of many whose good opinion was of value 
 to me. However, looking back now, I do not regret 
 that participation. 
 
 Since that time "Open Forums" have been es- 
 tablished in many cities, resulting in a better under- 
 standing between the classes. 
 
 I am not able to affirm that the influence of the 
 Economic Club brought into life a little later another 
 and more important movement, which became known 
 as the "Civic Federation of Chicago." Its organization 
 was effected while I was traveling in Europe. On my 
 return, I found it fully organized, and myself elected 
 president. I would gladly have declined that honor, 
 but much publicity had been given it, and it would 
 have been injurious and confusing if I refused to 
 accept. 
 
 Therefore, I reluctantly consented to serve for 
 one year. The membership was composed of one or 
 two hundred people, fairly representative of all classes 
 of society. The object of the association was to be 
 helpful in a constructive way to social welfare, to 
 concentrate public attention upon evils and abuses 
 which might be alleviated or cured. Through its 
 committees, it did good work in many directions, and 
 won public confidence. An evil long existing and 
 generally recognized, was the venality of the Common 
 Council. Concessions, rights and privileges could be 
 obtained from it, to be utilized for private profit, if 
 
72 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 the solicitor of such favors were willing to pay the 
 price. 
 
 To secure honest men in the Council was a funda- 
 mental need. An effort in that direction was made by 
 the creation of a Municipal Voters' League. The duty 
 of the officers of the League was to investigate the 
 public life and general character of every candidate 
 for municipal office, and without fear, favor or prej- 
 udice, make the results of their investigation known 
 to the voters. 
 
 The executive head of such a league would 
 naturally draw down upon his head the vengeful 
 hatred of the wicked aspirants for office. The old 
 question arose, "Who will bell the cat?" In other 
 words, who can be induced to accept such a task? I 
 recall a meeting of a committee of sixteen members 
 of the Federation, appointed to consider this. The of- 
 fice of President of the League was refused by each 
 member of the committee in turn. At last one member 
 of the committee remarked, "I know a patriotic 
 citizen who has been active and useful in political 
 affairs of the fourth ward. He is a little man, but has 
 nerve, courage and character. He has been quite suc- 
 cessful in a job printing business. I once heard him 
 say to his wife: 'I owe much to Chicago, and would 
 be glad to give two years of my life, without remun- 
 eration, if thereby I could help make the city what 
 it ought to be.' "His name," he continued, "is George 
 E. Cole." No one else knew this Mr. Cole, but acting 
 on the strong words of the member who did know 
 him, the chairman of the committee was authorized 
 to appoint Mr. Cole, President of the Municipal 
 Voters' League, if he would accept the office. 
 
 In response to a call on the telephone by his 
 
Birth of the Economic Club 73 
 
 friend, he was introduced to our meeting within ten 
 minutes. The chairman explained to him the object 
 of the League, the necessity for a brave, patriotic, yet 
 prudent man, to be put in charge, and concluded by 
 saying: "After here canvassing the names of many 
 men, we are all united in offering that place to you, 
 and in asking you to assume its duties." 
 
 He replied in substance: "I have long realized 
 the need of an organization similar to the one you are 
 trying to form. I do not feel qualified to undertake 
 the onerous duties involved, but if it is the unani- 
 mous sentiment that I am, I will accept the position 
 and do the best I can." 
 
 Thus that question was solved, and very happily. 
 For a number of years he did noble, useful and im- 
 partial work, and the great value to the community 
 of the Municipal Voters' League became recognized 
 as an influential factor in the cause of good govern- 
 ment. 
 
XII 
 
 The World's Columbian Exposition, now an his- 
 torical event, in its inception and development 
 was a disturbing element to my regular established 
 duties as a bank manager. 
 
 Without attempting a full story of that remark- 
 able achievement in Chicago's enterprise, there are 
 some features of it which have not been noticed by 
 the historian's pen, and may never be recorded un- 
 less I set them down. 
 
 The idea seems to have been born in the brain 
 of Edward F. Cragin. At least, from him I first heard 
 of it. With a pad of paper in his hand and pencil 
 over his ear, he appeared at my desk one day in 1889, 
 with the inquiry, "Can I put you down as in favor of 
 holding a great World Exposition in Chicago, in 
 1892, to celebrate the four-hundredth anniversary of 
 the discovery of America by Christopher Columbus?" 
 His question struck me as absurd. Chicago was com- 
 paratively a new city; its population of about a mil- 
 lion was the most heterogeneous of any city of its size 
 on earth. Material advantage had been the attracting 
 power to draw this mass of people together. In the 
 struggle for life and personal benefits, the esthetic 
 sense of the people had remained camnarativelv 
 dormant, and was not up to the responsibility which 
 would be blindly assumed in creating an "Exnosi- 
 tion" worthy of the occasion. Besides, the necessary 
 expenditure would amount to millions, which it 
 would probably be impossible to secure. These ooin- 
 ions, however, did not reflect the general sentiment, 
 
 —74— 
 
World's Columbian Exposition 75 
 
 and in expressing them I proved to be a false prophet. 
 The proposal to hold such an exposition met with 
 almost universal favor. In due time a public meeting 
 was held, at which stimulating oratory removed 
 doubts and inspired enthusiasm. A committee was 
 sent to Washington to secure an act which would 
 insure the sanction of the United States. A resolution 
 endorsing the exposition passed both Houses of Con- 
 gress, but did not specify where it might be held, 
 merely stipulating that the city so honored should 
 furnish an eligible site and pledge a fund of five mil- 
 lions for its creation, and that the Government should 
 not assume any financial responsibility. 
 
 New York City "woke up," and sent a strong 
 delegation to Washington to secure the Exposition. 
 Representative citizens from Chicago promptly con- 
 tested the claims of New York, and after much debate 
 and clamor, Chicago won in the exciting controversy. 
 Thus assured, Chicago inaugurated the enterprise. 
 A corporation was created, providing for a capital of 
 five millions, and the work of securing subscriptions 
 to the capital stock began. 
 
 At first large subscriptions came rolling in. The 
 railroads, the hotels, banks and larger merchants sub- 
 scribed liberally, but as the days went on, the daily 
 subscription rapidly decreased, and when the sum 
 of two and a half millions had been pledged, it looked 
 as if the movement would be a failure. The numerous 
 committees sent in their books, reporting that they 
 could do no more. In my opinion, the movement 
 would have collapsed, but for the devotion and ability 
 of one man. Having himself been a participant in 
 the work of money getting, and perceiving the danger 
 of an inglorious end to the program, he came to me 
 
76 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 as chairman of the Finance Committee, with the dec- 
 laration: "Your committees on subscription have not 
 properly worked their respective fields. You, as chair- 
 man, will be held responsible for their failure which 
 cannot be prevented without radical new power and 
 energy. If you will make me chairman of the sub- 
 scription committee, with free authority to revamp 
 the personnel of the existing committees, I will give 
 my time exclusively to this work for three months, 
 and will bring the subscription total to the necessary 
 five millions. Many will have to double their present 
 pledges, and many new subscribers must be ob- 
 tained." This man was Otto Young, now deceased. I 
 knew him well, and knew his power as an organizer. 
 
 I gladly accepted his proposal, and from that 
 time until the stock subscriptions mounted to $5,600,- 
 000.00, he directed the work. He is entitled to the 
 chief honor of saving the enterprise from failure. 
 
 With the full sum secured, a meeting of share- 
 holders for the election of directors was held. Forty- 
 five directors, fairly representative of the best busi- 
 ness life of Chicago, were elected. Promptly after- 
 ward, the directors held a meeting to elect officers, 
 adopt by-laws, etc. To my great surprise and against 
 my own wishes, I was unanimously elected President 
 of the Board of Directors. By this time, my originally 
 pessimistic views had given way to faith and opti- 
 mism, and I accepted the honor. There seemed to be 
 fair sailing ahead, but soon a threatening cloud ap- 
 peared. 
 
 Our friends in Washington reported that a 
 strong delegation from New York had requested Con- 
 gress to amend its resolution by erasing from it the 
 name of Chicago, and substituting that of New York. 
 
by; 
 
 c 
 
World's Columbian Exposition 79 
 
 It was represented that the Chicago stock subscription 
 list was largely a fake affair, and our worried friends 
 demanded that we come at once to Washington and 
 satisfy the Congressional Committee of our good faith 
 and ability. Losing no time, I, in company with Mr. 
 Otto Young, Mr. Thomas B. Bryan, E. F. Lawrence 
 and our legal adviser, Mr. Edwin Walker, went to 
 Washington. We presented ourselves to the joint com- 
 mittee of the House and Senate, with a list of our 
 subscribers for $500.00 or more. Happily, Senator 
 Charles B. Farwell was a member of that committee, 
 and when we read the names of our subscribers and 
 the respective amounts for which each was pledged, 
 he declared: "I am personally acquainted with nearly 
 all these subscribers. They are financially responsible, 
 and I would be willing for a consideration of 2%% 
 to guarantee the collection of every dollar pledged 
 on that list." 
 
 We all strongly affirmed the integrity and 
 good faith of our subscribers and all doubt on that 
 point seemed to be dissipated. But the worst was 
 yet to come. At this juncture the Chairman of 
 the Joint Congressional Committee declared himself 
 in the following manner: Chicago has evidently ac- 
 complished a wonderful work in securing these 
 pledges; but it is only fair to say that she will be 
 obliged to give up her hope for the Exposition. New 
 York is too strong for her; that city has come forward 
 and offers for the enterprise not only a most eligible 
 site, but ten millions in cash. It would be impossible 
 for Chicago to do so much; therefore, it is most 
 probable that Chicago will be eliminated." 
 
 This announcement was indeed a shock to us, 
 and we withdrew for a few minutes to consider our 
 
80 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 reply. It looked dark enough until the same Otto 
 Young, who was himself a wealthy merchant, declared 
 that Chicago must meet this new challenge. "It will 
 be hard to do it, but we can make good. Let us so 
 inform the committee, and personally guarantee that 
 it shall be done. I am willing to make that pledge." 
 
 It was plain that it would be idle to expect 
 much, if any increase in voluntary individual sub- 
 scriptions to the stock, but there was the municipal- 
 ity itself. It was possible, if the way could be legally 
 found, to make a corporate subscription for the full 
 additional sum of five millions. Such a thing had not 
 been contemplated, but all things were possible. 
 
 Returning to the larger room, we informed the 
 Congressional Committee that we would pledge 
 Chicago for a new total, and asked for twenty-four 
 hours to satisfy them that our declaration rested on a 
 business basis. This was concurred in, and before the 
 time limit, we received a fully supporting telegram 
 signed by some thirty or more citizens whose aggre- 
 gate wealth was known to be more than a hundred 
 millions of dollars. This ended the dispute; New 
 York surrendered the contest, and the full bill passed 
 Congress, with Chicago recognized as the seat of the 
 Exposition. 
 
 To enable the city to come in with the large 
 proposed contribution, an Enabling Act was adopted 
 by the State Legislature of Illinois ratified by a pop- 
 ular vote of Chicago's citizens. With ten millions in 
 sight, the directors proceeded to create the World's 
 Columbian Exposition. 
 
 Its story can be found in the public libraries; 
 it was a glorious achievement, but the construction 
 cost amounted to twenty-one millions, instead of ten 
 
World's Columbian Exposition 81 
 
 millions, as first estimated. These added millions were 
 provided through bond issues, the creation of a 
 "floating debt," etc. Owing to the reaction and finan- 
 cial panic of 1892-3, and the limited duration of the 
 Exposition, the capital subscribed by the people and 
 the contribution by the city was almost completely 
 lost; but it put Chicago on the map, bringing it to 
 the notice, and winning the respect and admiration 
 of the visiting world. Possibly in the long run the 
 sacrifice was justified; I am not clear in my own mind 
 on that point. 
 
XIII 
 
 Due perhaps to popularity gained through my 
 relation to the World's Columbian Exposition, 
 I was placed in a position of great personal embar- 
 rassment. 
 
 For many years, Carter H. Harrison had oc- 
 cupied the mayoralty chair, and while it may be that 
 he had made as good a mayor "as the times would 
 permit," he had, in the course of his several admin- 
 istrations, incited criticism and drawn down upon 
 his head the hostility of the daily press. These stand- 
 ard-bearers of public opinion determined, if possible, 
 to break the Harrison regime. The newspaper pro- 
 prietors had hit upon me as the candidate for whom 
 they should unite their influence, and who, supported 
 by a unanimous press, could win the office of mayor 
 at the forthcoming election. I was urged by these 
 gentlemen of the press to put myself forward as a 
 candidate. 
 
 Profoundly ignorant of the devious ways of 
 politics and the interplay of influences in the admin- 
 istration of a great city, I declined to consider the 
 proposition, thereby attracting sharp criticism from 
 the press. Turning from me, they fixed upon a citizen 
 of distinction, wealth and influence, whose ambition 
 exceeded his discretion. After spending his money 
 most generously, he was defeated by an overwhelming 
 vote, and Carter H. Harrison was re-elected. 
 
 —82— 
 
XIV 
 
 I shall indulge myself in recording two or three 
 incidents, which dwell in my memory and give me 
 now, in my advancing years, a pleasing satisfaction. 
 
 They are humble enough in their character, and 
 may seem too trivial to be worthy of record here. In 
 place of these I could offer as evidence of apprecia- 
 tive regard, copies of resolutions embodying senti- 
 ments of respect and expressions of good-will, adopted 
 at various times by boards of directors, committees 
 of various associations, etc. 
 
 Some of these are beautifully bound, carry il- 
 luminated texts, and are preserved as cherished relics 
 of bygone days. To none of these have I referred in 
 these memoirs. 
 
 I could also cite the fact that, by at least two 
 institutions of higher learning, I have been voted the 
 honorable degree of L.L.D.; but I regard them as in a 
 sense conventional acts, which nothing in my life or 
 doings merited. 
 
 The record I now transcribe is much more 
 humble, quite unconventional, informal and sincere; 
 but to me that gives the events a higher, rather than 
 a lesser value. 
 
 I have mentioned the Economic Club, with its 
 twenty-four members, representing both the conser- 
 vative and ultra-radical classes of our social state. 
 Among the latter was Thomas J. Morgan, an extreme 
 Socialist. He was a hard-working, industrious me- 
 chanic, self-thought as to education, but of unusual 
 mental power and gifted as an orator. 
 
 —83-- 
 
84 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 The disparity in his and my own social-economic 
 ideas was great, and we suspected each other's under- 
 lying motives. I regarded him as a "dangerous man" 
 and he no doubt looked upon me as hard, cruel, 
 rapacious, and indifferent to the well-being of the 
 social whole. 
 
 The contacts incidental to our meetings in the 
 economic debates did something, I am sure, to soften 
 our mutual preconception and prejudices, as will hap- 
 pen when men are sincere, even though antagonistic 
 in convictions. But I had never had reason to suspect 
 that his doubts and suspicions of me had been mod- 
 ified. 
 
 Well, the Economic Club died. I saw no more of 
 Mr. Morgan, and the years went on. Yes, thirty years 
 of silence, when at last, only three or four years ago, 
 I was called upon here in San Diego by a woman past 
 middle life. After apologizing for her intrusion, she 
 told me the following story: 
 
 "I am the widow of Thomas J. Morgan, whom 
 you may remember. He had given up working at his 
 trade; and with our modest savings of many years, 
 we had resolved to come to California, where one of 
 our married children was living. On our way hither, 
 Mr. Morgan was killed in a railroad collision. I am 
 coming to you with my trouble and helplessness in 
 business matters, because many years ago my husband 
 told me that if he was ever taken away suddenly, and 
 I felt the need of counsel and advice, I could go to 
 Lyman J. Gage with an assurance that I would be 
 sympathetically received, and sincere counsel given 
 me. That," she said, "is my excuse for troubling you 
 with the questions which arise as the result of his 
 death." 
 
Pupil of Foster Mission 85 
 
 The point of this narrative is found in the con- 
 fidence and good-will toward me which occasional 
 contacts had engendered in him. 
 
 Of his sincerity there could be no doubt, and 
 considering the circumstances and the nature of the 
 man, I have cherished the expression of it as one of 
 the highest compliments I have ever received. 
 
 Another incident, somewhat similar in its under- 
 lying features, was the result of a temporary relation- 
 ship, in the early "60's", with Foster Mission Sunday 
 School, where I taught a class of boys. 
 
 The mission was situated in a section of the city 
 occupied exclusively by a foreign population — Poles, 
 Hungarians, etc. I had a class of eight or ten boys, 
 to whom I tried to impart the principles of good 
 Americanism and worthy personal character. After 
 three or four years in this rather unpromising work, 
 I became disassociated, and as the years went along, 
 the mission faded to a latent memory in my mind. 
 
 One day, sitting at my desk in the bank, I looked 
 up and saw a man of middle life, who at first glance 
 might have been mistaken for an anarchist. He had 
 a bushy black beard, keen black eyes, a stalwart figure, 
 and a shock of jet black hair. A kindly smile, however, 
 shining from his eyes, modified the first impression, 
 and in response to his enquiry: "May I speak with 
 Mr. Gage?" I invited him forward to my desk. 
 
 Approaching me, he said, "You don't remember 
 me. My name is Stephen Jarowosky. I was once a 
 pupil in your Sunday School class at Foster Mission. 
 Perhaps this will refresh your recollection." With 
 these words, he withdrew from the side pocket of his 
 coat, and handed to me, a little book of a value not 
 greater than ten cents. "Please look at the blank page 
 
86 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 in the front of this little book/' he continued. Turn- 
 ing to the fly leaf, I read: "Presented to Stephen 
 Jarowosky by his friend and teacher, Lyman J. Gage." 
 It was dated December 25th, thirty-four years prior 
 to the visit I am describing. 
 
 "Is it possible," I exclaimed "that you have kept 
 this little book all these years?" 
 
 "Yes, I have," he answered, "and this also." 
 With that remark, he handed me a silver dollar. It 
 was a bright, unscratched coin, bearing a mint date 
 previous to the date recorded in the little book. 
 "This," he remarked, "you gave me on the Christmas 
 which followed the gift of the little book. I am a 
 mechanic, earning good wages. We are comfortable 
 and try to be respectable. These two things, the book 
 and the dollar, I have kept through all these years 
 in remembrance of the early days. They are in a way 
 my household gods, and as my children have come 
 along and grown up, they would beg me to tell them 
 about Foster Mission and show them the book and 
 the dollar that Mr. Gage gave me. They never seemed 
 to tire of the repeated tale. 
 
 "We have often seen your name in the news- 
 papers and have eagerly read whatever was printed 
 concerning you. My name, of course, has never ap- 
 peared, and it is natural that you should forget me. 
 Many times I thought I would come in and take a 
 look at you, but I have never summoned the courage 
 until today." 
 
 This incident, so simple in itself, is one of the 
 sweetest memories that go to cheer a declining life, 
 which ought to be more enriched than it is by similar 
 recollections. 
 
XV 
 
 The phesidential election of 1896 brought Wil- 
 liam McKinley into office as chief executive of 
 the nation. The great issue of the campaign had 
 been the metallic money standard. 
 
 Pending its determination, excitement ran high, 
 the business life of the country suffered a period of 
 suspended animation. The election of McKinley was 
 hailed with great satisfaction by the conservative ele- 
 ments of both the Republicans and Democrats. It was 
 believed that the chronic depression, which had fol- 
 lowed the financial and industrial revulsion of 1893, 
 would now be broken, and that with this emphatic 
 commitment to the gold standard, our industrial life 
 would be rejuvenated. 
 
 Into his high office, it was justly felt that the 
 President-Elect would bring all the fine qualities that 
 had marked his personal and political life. As Gov- 
 ernor of Ohio, and for several years as a distinguished 
 member of the National Congress, he had acquired 
 political wisdom and possessed a wide acquaintance 
 with the forces affecting our country's future. 
 
 Public interest was aroused as to his choice for 
 members of his cabinet. As the responsible head of 
 a large bank, I, in common with others, felt a deep 
 interest in that question, but not for a moment did 
 I suspect that I myself was to become a member of 
 his official family. 
 
 For thirty-nine years, as boy and man, I had 
 followed the business of banking. Fortune had been 
 kind. Advancement from the humblest position had 
 
 --87— 
 
88 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 been realized in successive steps, and now at the age 
 of sixty years I had reached the top of the ladder. 
 My position as President of the bank was established. 
 The compensation of $25,000.00 per annum was gen- 
 erous and ample. 
 
 I had never become familiar with politicians, 
 nor engaged in the strife of parties. In these matters, 
 I was what the Irish call "an innocent." Reasonably 
 secure, I had no ambition for public honors of any 
 sort. In previous years I had been honored by my 
 fellow bankers of the country with the Presidency 
 of the American Bankers Association. That office, 
 more honorary than active, I held for three years — 
 1882 to 1884. In the organization of the World's 
 Columbian Exposition, which opened its doors to 
 the public in 1893, I had been chosen as its first Pres- 
 ident. Neither of these positions, however, savored of 
 politics. 
 
 Speculation was rife in the press as to whom 
 among the public men of the country would be 
 selected for cabinet members. The newspapers were 
 active in bringing forward, with prophetic vision, 
 the names of persons they considered eligible for the 
 high duties involved in the new administration. 
 
 I was surprised and somewhat shocked to see 
 my own name thus mentioned as one who could be 
 wisely selected to take the portfolio of the Treasury 
 Department. To this I paid little attention, though 
 I was embarrassed by it. I could not refuse what had 
 not been offered, nor decline in advance that which 
 might never be seriously proposed. 
 
 I hoped that this newspaper gossip would pass 
 away, and that I should be left in peace to discharge 
 duties and responsibilities satisfactory in their nature. 
 
Lyman J. Gage 
 
Appointed Secretary of the Treasury 89 
 
 This gossip, however, brought in to me from 
 many quarters — chiefly from bankers in the West 
 and other sections — earnest expressions of hope that 
 I would feel it my duty to accept the appointment if 
 offered, and pledging the faith of the writers in my 
 fitness for that high office. 
 
 It was generally known that I had uncompro- 
 misingly advocated gold as our continued standard of 
 payment. It was also feared by some that while a 
 gold plank had been included in the platform at the 
 Republican Convention in St. Louis, the Republican 
 party as a whole was not as loyal as it should be to 
 that feature, which ought to be rendered secure and 
 permanent. 
 
 Some time in January, 1897, I received word 
 through a friend that the President-Elect would like 
 to see me at his home in Canton, Ohio. There is an 
 adage that a request from the President of the United 
 States is equal to a command, and it applies with 
 hardly less force to a President-Elect. 
 
 Naturally enough I attached significance to this 
 invitation to visit Mr. McKinley. There was much 
 conflict and doubt in my mind as to where my duty 
 really lay. I appreciated the honor and dignity of such 
 a position and had been urged by my friends to accept 
 the position, if offered. They said, "It will involve 
 serious financial sacrifice, but you can afford to make 
 it. It will, on the other hand, crown your business 
 career with the highest possible recognition." My 
 wife also joined in their representations. 
 
 I went to Canton and called on Mr. McKinley. 
 What passed between us will show that even matters 
 of high importance are brought into being with great 
 simplicity, instead of dignified formality. 
 
90 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 I had never met Mr. McKinley more than three 
 or four times, for short periods only, when our con- 
 versation had bordered on the commonplace. 
 
 He received me with cordiality and after a short 
 exchange of talk, he said, "I've requested you to come 
 here that I might ask you a question. If I were to 
 offer you the portfolio of the Treasury Department, 
 would you accept the appointment? Bear in mind, 
 I do not offer it to you yet. I could not afford to offer 
 it to anybody and have it refused." 
 
 To this I rejoined, "I do not think you ought 
 to offer it to me. The members of your cabinet should 
 be in very close harmony with your political ideas 
 and doctrines. While I have always been a Repub- 
 lican, having cast my first vote for Abraham Lincoln 
 in 1860, I must frankly say that I have not been in 
 full sympathy with a high-protective tariff. Had the 
 Democratic Party shown political ability in the man- 
 agement of our national affairs, during its brief peri- 
 ods of administration, I might have supported the 
 principles of that party. You, on the contrary, have 
 the reputation of being a high-protective tariff advo- 
 cate. Again, I am afraid that while the platform on 
 which you were elected carries the gold plank, your 
 convictions are less firm than mine as to the necessity 
 of maintaining, at any sacrifice, our present money 
 standard, by which only can we successfully compete 
 in the world's trade." 
 
 He heard me with an indulgent smile and then 
 remarked, "You misapprehend my attitude as to the 
 protective tariff. I was chairman of the committee in 
 the House which advocated the tariff rates under a 
 bill known as the McKinley Bill, but I thought then, 
 and think now, that it is for our best interests to re- 
 
Appointed Secretary of the Treasury 91 
 
 turn gradually to a much less drastic system of tariff. 
 As to the gold standard, you cannot be more firmly 
 convinced of our interest as a nation in maintaining 
 it than I am." 
 
 "Well," I said, "You have taken the wind out 
 of my sails, and I have no further defense." 
 
 "Let me ask you," he continued, "if you happen 
 to have a photograph of your wife in your pocket?" 
 
 "Yes," I said, "that is easy; here it is." 
 
 He looked at it and remarked, "She looks as 
 though she might ornament the social side of the 
 President's family." 
 
 I expressed full concurrence with his thought in 
 that particular. 
 
 "Let me read to you, in confidence, the inaug- 
 ural speech I expect to deliver on March 4th." 
 
 He read it to me at length. 
 
 "What do you find to criticize in that?" he asked. 
 
 "Not one word," I replied. 
 
 "Then I will repeat to you the question with 
 which I started: 'Would you accept the portfolio of 
 the Treasury, if I should offer it to you?' " 
 
 I answered, "Yes." 
 
 "Then that is settled. I offer it to you and you 
 accept?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 He then added, "Won't you be good enough 
 to step into the next room? There are twenty news- 
 papermen in there. They are good guessers and no 
 doubt apprehend the significance of this visit. Just 
 tell them what has transpired, my offer and your 
 acceptance; then come back and take luncheon with 
 Mrs. McKinley and me." 
 
 After luncheon I took the earliest train back to 
 
92 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 Chicago, and the papers of that evening and the fol- 
 lowing morning spread the knowledge of this action 
 over the country. 
 
 I resumed my usual duties in the bank, for sev- 
 eral weeks would intervene before I would assume 
 the new responsibilities. This interval was consumed 
 in arranging my personal affairs and receiving friends 
 from far and near, most of whom were congratulatory 
 in their expressions and gave me their best wishes 
 for success. 
 
 There were a few voices, however, to the con- 
 trary. Some, who perhaps had the closest personal 
 interest in my future welfare, deprecated my action. 
 They argued thus: "You cannot afford to do it. You 
 are cutting off your business career at the moment 
 when your prospects are the brightest, and the breach 
 you thus make will never be fully restored." 
 
 I will relate here an interview with one of these 
 objectors. He said, "In justice to yourself and your 
 family you ought not to make this sacrifice. But if 
 you are bound to do it, I want to share with you the 
 sacrifice I know you are making." 
 
 "How do you wish to do this?" I asked. 
 
 "If you will accept it, I want to give you my 
 check for $100,000.00; that perhaps is my share." 
 
 "When?" I asked. 
 
 "Right now. I have to my personal credit in the 
 bank $220,000.00." 
 
 "Well," I said, "there is a blank check; go 
 ahead." 
 
 He filled the blank out for $100,000.00, payable 
 to myself, and handed it to me. 
 
 "You have done all you possibly can to demon- 
 strate the sincerity of your talk, but there is one thing 
 
Appointed Secretary of the Treasury 93 
 
 I'd rather have than this check," I added tearing the 
 check into shreds. 
 
 "What is that?" he asked. 
 
 "The continuance of the kindly motives which 
 animate you at the present moment," I replied, put- 
 ting the pieces of the check back into his hand. 
 
 This gentleman was engaged in a very large 
 and profitable business. We had been acquainted for 
 several years. I was satisfied then, and am now, that 
 in this generous proffer, he had no ulterior purposes 
 of any kind, but was acting from the purest motives. 
 Nevertheless, I could not compromise my own inde- 
 pendence by accepting his generosity. 
 
 This man was Mr. Otto Young, now deceased — 
 the same man to whom I have previously referred to 
 as entitled to the highest honor for his work in the 
 World's Columbian Exposition. 
 
 The following are from the Chicago Inter-Ocean, 
 of February 14th, 1897.. 
 
 "A warm and affectionate farewell was given by 
 the members of the Bankers' Club last night to Lyman 
 J. Gage, recently appointed by President-Elect Mc- 
 Kinley as Secretary of the Treasury. 
 
 "Eulogies were paid the recent member of the 
 Bankers' Club who has had the honor so recently 
 thrust upon him, given by members of the organiza- 
 tion, by attorneys, and by men in other vocations of 
 life. The good-byes and godspeeds were numerous and 
 heartfelt. The old associates of Mr. Gage took oc- 
 casion to pay tribute to his character as a man and 
 to his ability as a financier. 
 
 "Every mention of his name was greeted with ap- 
 plause, and when he arose to thank the club for the 
 good wishes expressed the demonstrations of affection 
 lasted for several minutes. He was visibly affected and 
 
94 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 as he proceeded with his address his voice trembled 
 with emotion. 
 
 "The big banquet hall at the Auditorium was taste- 
 fully decorated when at 6 o'clock the members of the 
 club sat down to discuss the menu. There were ferns 
 and palms tastefully arranged about the hall, and in 
 the gallery, which was beautifully draped, was sta- 
 tioned the Lotus Club Quartet, which furnished the 
 music for the evening. President John J. Mitchell of 
 the club was the toastmaster of the evening and at his 
 right sat the guest of honor. 
 
 "The banquet was called to order at 8:45 o'clock by 
 President John J. Mitchell of the Bankers' Club, who 
 stated that Elbridge G. Keith has some resolutions 
 which he desired to offer and which he would read. 
 Mr. Mitchell then read the resolutions, which follow: 
 
 'Whereas, Lyman J. Gage has been for many years 
 a recognized leader among bankers and financiers of 
 the United States, and particularly of Chicago and 
 the large territory tributary thereto; and, 
 
 'Whereas, His wise counsel, untiring energy, and 
 unselfish assistance have been of incalculable benefit 
 to the banking, financial, and business interests, hav- 
 ing Chicago for their center, and to the people de- 
 pendent thereupon; and, 
 
 'Whereas, Much of the success of the Bankers' Club 
 of Chicago is due to his active participation in its 
 deliberations and his deep concern for its welfare; and, 
 
 'Whereas, He is about to assume the duties of the 
 office of Secretary of the Treasury under the adminis- 
 tration of our national government, to be inaugurated 
 March 4th next, be it 
 
 'Resolved, By the Bankers' Club of Chicago that 
 the people of the United States have just cause for 
 congratulation that one so conspicuously able as 
 Lyman J. Gage has been selected to fill the office of 
 Secretary of the Treasury. His ability and integrity 
 are recognized throughout the republic, and his broad 
 citizenship and exalted patriotism assure the same un- 
 selfish devotion to the interests committed to the care 
 
Appointed Secretary of the Treasury 95 
 
 of the United States Treasury Department as has 
 characterized his labors in this community. Be it 
 further 
 
 'Resolved, That the thanks of the members of this 
 Club hereby tendered Mr. Gage voice in but a slight 
 degree our appreciation of his efforts in behalf of this 
 organization. And be it further 
 
 'Resolved, That these resolutions be spread in fulf 
 upon the records of this club and an engrossed copy 
 thereof forwarded to Mr. Gage.' " 
 
 Mr. John J. Mitchell then spoke as follows: 
 
 "For the benefit of our invited guests who are here 
 tonight it is proper and right that I should explain 
 that the Bankers' Club of Chicago is one of those in- 
 offensive and unassuming organizations that are or- 
 ganized for the purpose of bringing about a little 
 sociability among the bankers of Chicago. This, I 
 think, you will admit is a laudable purpose, but it is 
 not one of the easiest things under the sun to do, for 
 the bankers of Chicago are not the most sociable 
 people in the world. But under the mellowing in- 
 fluences of three years of panic we begin to thaw out, 
 and I venture to say that if we should have three years 
 more we would begin to be quite chummy together. 
 (Laughter and applause.) 
 
 "I said this is an unassuming club. I meant to say 
 that it was an unassuming club, because it was so until 
 official lightning struck in our midst, and since then 
 we have presumed to feel that we were of as much im- 
 portance as any of the other clubs of Chicago; and we 
 have invited, under that presumption, our esteemed 
 mayor, who does not seem to be present tonight, the 
 representatives of some of our prominent clubs, rep- 
 resentatives of the board of trade, and some of our 
 aristocratic friends, and I trust that before we get 
 through with them tonight they will know that we 
 have some merit. 
 
 "This is not an ordinary occasion tonight. We are 
 not here for the purpose of outlining a policy for the 
 
96 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 incoming administration, or for the coming Treasurer 
 of the United States. We are here simply to do honor 
 to one of the members of our club who has been 
 chosen to fill one of the most difficult offices of the 
 incoming administration, that of Secretary of the 
 Treasury. (Applause) At the present time it requires 
 more good, hard business sense, more practical knowl- 
 edge of finance than has been required at the hands 
 of any other predecessor other than that of Alexander 
 Hamilton. Our President-elect has made no mistake 
 in disregarding the obligations of politicians and ap- 
 pointing for the Secretary of the Treasury, Mr. Lyman 
 J. Gage. (Great applause.) 
 
 "This is not only the sense of his associates and 
 friends. It is evidenced by the kindly expressions of 
 press and public all over our land and from across 
 the water. It was a graceful compliment to the great 
 State of Illinois and particularly to our home City of 
 Chicago. 
 
 "In accepting this position Mr. Gage makes a great 
 many personal sacrifices, and the financial interests 
 of Chicago suffer an equal sacrifice by his decision. 
 But it is the bankers of Chicago who will miss most 
 the thoughtful, calm and always fair judgment of Mr. 
 Gage, which the last three years of financial trouble 
 have brought out so prominently and so clearly. 'But 
 I trust that our midnight vigils are over, that we are 
 now sailing in calmer financial seas, and with Mr. 
 Gage at the financial helm at Washington, we will 
 trust our ship of state. (Applause) 
 
 "Gentlemen, I will ask you all, now to rise and 
 drink to the health and the success of the new Secre- 
 tary of the Treasury, Hon. Lyman J. Gage." 
 
 Lyman J. Gage, the guest of the evening, was 
 introduced and said: 
 
 "It is no doubt the fact that the many complimen- 
 tary words which have been uttered are fully intended 
 for application to me, but it is quite difficult for me 
 
Appointed Secretary of the Treasury 97 
 
 to realize the fact. Within ten or twelve days I have 
 read so many conflicting descriptions of my own char- 
 acter and personality that I feel a rising apprehension 
 that 'I am not myself at all*. The illustrations which 
 support these varied and variegated descriptions help 
 also to confuse my mind. One of the most striking 
 was a recent picture of a handsome young man of 
 forty, with black hair and elongated features, adorned 
 with mustache and goatee, a la Napoleon III, and 
 my name was under it. I assure you, my friends, that 
 I am growing timid about looking in the mirror, lest 
 I should unfortunately turn out to be somebody else 
 and thus prove the papers to be right and myself 
 wrong. 
 
 "However this may be, standing in this somewhat 
 familiar place, and looking around this circle of 
 friends, with whom I have been in almost daily con- 
 tact for many years, the confusion ceases, my sense 
 of individuality is regained, and I realize the full 
 significance involved in your words of 'Good-bye, and 
 Godspeed'. 
 
 "In an hour when one turns away from the familiar 
 and loved scenes of home it is natural that he should 
 cast 'the last lingering look behind' before facing the 
 unfamiliar region to which his journey leads. In a 
 similar way my own thoughts turn tonight to the rec- 
 ollection of my life here with you, and you must bear 
 with me if I dwell upon them. 
 
 "In the month of October, forty-one years ago, a 
 young man of 19, I entered this magic city of the 
 West. With little delay I caught the infection of 
 enthusiasm which seemed to animate every one of the 
 sixty thousand people, upon whose foreheads the 
 white light of a future full of possibilities shone 
 resplendently. Incoming trains brought new accessions 
 to the population, while daily thousands more passed 
 hurriedly to inviting plains at the further West. Two 
 years passed and the baleful influences of the panic 
 of 1857 fell upon us. The development of the country 
 had been too rigid. Credit, that powerful instrument 
 for the distribution of capital, had been both abused 
 
98 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 and overused. Fortunes which had serenely smiled 
 upon their fancied possessors faded away, while the 
 humbler ones, used to toil and desirous of work, fell 
 into idleness and distress. As I remember them, the 
 years of '58 and '60 were fair prototypes of these last 
 years of business and industrial depression. Never- 
 theless, our population was augmented from month to 
 month and from year to year. 
 
 "In 1861, the first gun fired on Fort Sumter fired 
 also the Northern heart. Our city became a camp and 
 marching regiments filled our streets. Within four 
 years a million of men were called from the ranks of 
 industry into the ranks of war. Vast expenditures were 
 inaugurated. Labor demanded high pay in current 
 money, prices of all commodities advanced. Profits 
 in trade appeared to be enormous, while on every side 
 speculators blossomed into millionaires. It was quite 
 lost sight of that this kind of 'prosperity' was visionary 
 and unreal; that we were spending — for a noble 
 cause, to be sure — vast sums which the future was to 
 pay. Surely three thousand millions of public debt, 
 the proceeds of which were expended in five years of 
 time, ought to have given a stimulus to things. They 
 did no doubt; but peace came back, and the day of 
 dissipation was over. In 1873 the headache period 
 came on, and, oh, how our heads did ache! Ruined 
 banks, ruined merchants, closed factories, and idle 
 workmen again mourned together over the perished 
 simulacrum of 'prosperity'. 
 
 "The path of return from unnatural courses is 
 always painful. We found it so from 73 to 79. Jan- 
 uary 1st of the latter year had been fixed by the gov- 
 ernment as the day of resumption of specie payment 
 on its outstanding notes. You remember, most of you, 
 the doubts and forebodings which filled the minds 
 of many as to the result of the great experiment. You 
 remember, also, how the hidden gold and silver first 
 began to percolate into our own money system, until 
 it became a large, enriching stream. Industry found 
 a solid basis. Enterprise went out with courage. Trade 
 and commerce revived, and for fourteen years our 
 
I 
 
 Mrs. Gage and baby 
 
Appointed Secretary of the Treasury 101 
 
 country advanced in material wealth and intellectual 
 progress by rapid and sustained steps. 
 
 "I shall not delay you with the too familar story 
 of 1893 and its culminating disasters. Nor shall I now 
 go into an explanation of the causes which brought 
 on the wide ruin whose painful evidences are still 
 with us. Nor shall I pause to speak of that episode of 
 1871, when the vengeful forces of hurricane and fire 
 destroyed in a single day the mighty fabric of a great 
 city. 
 
 "Let me turn to a more cheerful side of the retro- 
 spection. In spite of all the reactionary influences I 
 have described, in spite of war and fire and com- 
 mercial ruin, this city, the city of our love and pride, 
 maintained her primal energies unimpaired. In forty 
 years from 1855 its population increased twenty-five 
 hundred per cent. While in schools, churches, parks, 
 homes, and all the increasing needs of a higher civili- 
 zation an equal progress has been manifest. With such 
 triumphs, under such adversities, who will utter a 
 note of despair? Those who struggled and thus 
 achieved showed fortitude, courage, faith. Let their 
 successors evidence the same sublime qualities in 
 themselves. Whatever may at the moment suggest de- 
 pression and discouragement a broad outlook will 
 correct. Chicago still sits at the large gateway of com- 
 merce. Her unrivaled facilities for transporting raw 
 products from forest, field, and mine to her mills and 
 factories, are constantly improving, and her ability 
 to economically distribute the manufactured products 
 to consumers East and West and South is equally 
 great. Nor have the potential resources of our great 
 land, to which Chicago and all our cities must look 
 for their elements of prosperity, been abated. Vain 
 were it to try to catalogue or estimate the natural 
 resources of our country, or to attempt an inventory 
 of their value. If we now suffer, nature is not to be 
 blamed. She has been more generous to us than to any 
 other people. Let us rather recognize our own ignor- 
 ance and folly, and learn, as we must, and will learn, 
 how to live in obedience to the finer laws of industry, 
 
102 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 commerce and social economics. These laws are with 
 us, though they may not be written in statute law. 
 They bless the obedient, they punish the violator, 
 whether he sin through ignorance or perversity. 
 
 "Another general thought and I will relieve your 
 impatience. The World's Columbian Exposition of 
 1893 may well be called the apotheosis of our wonder- 
 ful municipal life. It is more than that. It is at the same 
 time the model for and the reasonable prophecy of 
 a higher and purer administration of our city's fathers 
 administration of our city's affairs in the future. In 
 the passing of that beautiful vision, the most beauti- 
 ful yet revealed to mortal view in modern times, there 
 were spent for construction during the period of three 
 years about $25,000,000. The duties of the leg- 
 islative body, the board of directors, were new and 
 perplexing. The administration and executive forces, 
 an army in number, were hastily co-ordained, and 
 yet that great trust was handled without one breath 
 of scandal or a suspicion of corrupt practice by any- 
 body anywhere. Cannot the record of the three years 
 in Jackson Park be repeated, not for three years, but 
 for thirty years, in our larger municipal life? It is to 
 this possibility we should aspire and to the realiza- 
 tion of this we should strenuously strive. 
 
 "It is with these thoughts and memories in mind 
 that I turn away from the association of forty years. 
 Chicago has been good to me — more kind than my 
 deserts have merited. Her people, all of them, are dear 
 to me; their increase in happiness will increase my 
 happiness. I am now to face larger duties and higher 
 responsibilities. My horizon cannot be closed by the 
 limits of our city. The burdens of the whole country 
 must be my burdens, and local attachments must be 
 subordinated to the larger fealty. 
 
 "That I have won your regard and confidence gives 
 me hope in the nobler sphere. I do not know how to 
 thank you properly for the many evidences of your 
 confidence and good will. Let me hope by no perverse 
 or unworthy action of mine you will be forced to re- 
 gret or reconsider them." 
 
Appointed Secretary of the Treasury 103 
 
 Mr. Charles G. Dawes, the appointee as Comp- 
 troller of the Currency, was next introduced by the 
 toastmaster, and said: 
 
 "I am very glad, Mr. Chairman, to add my word 
 to the tribute given to the distinguished guest of the 
 evening, Mr. Lyman J. Gage. It has seemed to me that 
 in the appointment of Mr. Gage as Secretary of the 
 Treasury the President has emphasized his realization 
 of the relation of the conservative business element of 
 this country to the last campaign, and it seems to me 
 he has emphasized his idea to the relation in which 
 the representatives of that class should at all times 
 stand to the actual administration of government af- 
 fairs. If there is one thing distinctly characteristic of 
 the last campaign it is the interest and the participa- 
 tion of all classes of our people in the result, and their 
 interest in the result now reaches up to the Republican 
 party when it is in power. The fact is that the only 
 result accomplished in November at the polls was the 
 transferring of a new political administration and giv- 
 ing it an opportunity to accomplish the result. The 
 nomination of Mr. Gage to the Secretaryship of the 
 Treasury — in that nomination Mr. McKinley struck 
 what is in one sense the keynote of his administration, 
 and it is the act of the statesman and not the act of 
 the mere politician. We believe, all of us who know 
 Mr. Gage believe, that in his administration he will 
 be guided solely by what he believes to be the interests 
 of the people without for one moment, thinking of 
 his own political future, and that is largely the cause 
 of the fact that no other man who has ever been ap- 
 pointed to that position, that there is no other man 
 in whose personal and political unselfishness the 
 people of the country have such absolute confidence. 
 All of us from New England have the greatest con- 
 fidence in him who has been called to the duties of 
 that great trust, and we wish him 'Godspeed' from 
 the bottom of our hearts in his new relation." (Ap- 
 plause) 
 
XVI 
 
 The first of February, 1897, marked the termina- 
 tion of my career as a Chicago banker. To pre- 
 pare myself for assuming my anticipated new duties, 
 I resigned my office as President of the First National 
 Bank, and also resigned from its Board of Directors. 
 
 Thus terminated all my business relations which 
 by any implications could be considered inimical to 
 the single-minded, impartial discharge of the duties 
 of the Treasury Department. 
 
 Somewhat prior to March 1st, I had disposed of 
 my home in the city, packed and stored my furniture, 
 and with my wife moved to Washington, where we 
 rented a house which, in its general style and con- 
 venience, would be suitable for the occupancy of a 
 member of the President's official family. 
 
 On the second of March, I paid my respects to 
 the President-Elect, and was invited by him to sit 
 on the platform, on the fourth of March, in front of 
 the Capitol, where the oath of office would be taken 
 by him, and from which he would deliver his in- 
 augural address. 
 
 The new President promptly called a special 
 meeting of the Senate and sent to that body for its 
 approval, his nomination for the secretaries of the 
 eight departments, as follows: 
 
 The Department of State, 
 The Treasury Department, 
 The Attorney General, as Head of the Depart- 
 ment of Justice, 
 
 The War Department, 
 
 —104— 
 
Organization of the Treasury Department 105 
 
 The Department of the Navy, 
 
 The Postmaster General, 
 
 The Interior Department, 
 
 The Department of Agriculture. 
 
 The Secretaries of these Departments, when duly 
 appointed and qualified, constituted what is known 
 as the President's Cabinet. 
 
 On the fifth of March, I took my oath of office 
 in the Treasury Building. The oath was administered 
 by Chief Justice Fuller of the Supreme Court, in the 
 presence of a small group of friends. The retiring 
 secretary, John G. Carlisle, extended his hand in 
 cordial greeting and conducted me to the chair and 
 desk from which he was retiring. 
 
 I had, of course, visited the capitol city before 
 this time, knew something of its streets, and had 
 observed at least the exteriors of its public buildings. 
 Many changes had occurred since my first visit in 
 April, 1861. At that time President Lincoln had just 
 called for a voluntary army of seventy-five thousand 
 men, sufficiently large in the opinion of many to sub- 
 jugate the seceding states of the South in the short 
 period of ninety days. The utter folly of such a con- 
 ceit was demonstrated at the first battle of Manassas, 
 from which the defeated troops of the government 
 rushed in panic toward the Capitol. 
 
 This gave a new and better estimate of the 
 power of the Confederated States of the South, when 
 the new call was made by President Lincoln for three 
 hundred thousand recruits to serve for a period of 
 three years. 
 
 At the first meeting of the new "McKinley Cab- 
 inet," the persons composing it, several of whom met 
 each other for the first time, were as follows: 
 
106 Memoirs of Lyman J, Gage 
 
 John Sherman — Secretary of State, 
 Myself — Secretary of the Treasury, 
 R. A. Alger — Secretary of War, 
 John W. Griggs — Attorney General, 
 James A. Gary — Postmaster General, 
 John D. Long — Secretary of the Navy, 
 Cornelius N. Bliss — Secretary of the Interior, 
 James Wilson — Secretary of Agriculture. 
 I have named them in the order of precedence, 
 that is, the order in which the several departments 
 were created by Congress. It was my primal duty to 
 make myself acquainted with all the responsibilities 
 resting upon the Department of the Treasury — in 
 itself no small task. I found the official relations in 
 which it was involved wide-spread and very diversi- 
 fied, as indicated by the following enumeration of 
 some of the agencies or bureaus over which the Sec- 
 retary has jurisdiction. 
 
 First may be named the whole accounting and 
 bookkeeping system of the financial side of Govern- 
 ment business. Then there is the collection of the 
 public income and its proper disbursement as author- 
 ized by law. To aid him in this work, he is provided 
 by Congress with three Assistant Secretaries, ap- 
 pointed by the President and approved by the Senate. 
 Primarily and most important of all, the duty 
 of the Secretary of the Treasury is to guard, protect 
 and develop the financial side of Government affairs. 
 "The Revenue of the State, is the State." The credit 
 of the State is one of the pillars of the foundation on 
 which the superstructure must rest. It is in this region 
 of "high finance" that the wisdom and judgment of 
 the Secretary become of prime importance. 
 
 Under the law he is required to make an annual 
 
Organization of the Treasury Department 107 
 
 report direct to Congress, setting forth the condition 
 of his Department in all important particulars, and 
 to make such suggestions or recommendations as may 
 seem to him worthy of consideration by the law-mak- 
 ing power. 
 
 Of course, all his power of action is derived from 
 congressional authority, and is restricted by the limi- 
 tations imposed or implied. 
 
 The following names or titles of these several 
 divisions, bureaus or agencies, must merely suggest, 
 rather than describe, their important functions: 
 
 Customs Department, 
 
 Internal Revenue Department, 
 
 Immigration Service, 
 
 The Coast and Geodetic Survey, 
 
 Public Health and Marine Hospital Service, 
 
 Revenue Cutter Service, 
 
 The Light House Service, 
 
 The Bureau of Navigation, 
 
 Steamboat Inspection Service, 
 
 National Bureau of Standards, 
 
 Life Saving Service, 
 
 Secret Service, 
 
 The Mints. 
 
 It is not my intention to go into details con- 
 cerning them. Such a description would be interesting 
 and instructive to those curious about the great ser- 
 vices rendered the people in looking after the public 
 welfare. But to present a proper description would 
 require a large volume in itself and would be but a 
 repetition of others already written. 
 
 It is my purpose to present only a general pic- 
 ture in my life in Washington, in trying to discharge 
 the duties imposed upon me as the official head of this 
 
108 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 great department. There occurred experiences more 
 incidental than fundamental. It is these that my nar- 
 rative may, with more or less intimacy, set forth. 
 
 The Secretary was the ultimate responsible head 
 of the agencies above enumerated. He dealt with 
 them through their several chiefs, to whom, the de- 
 tails of their administration were necessarily left, sub- 
 ject to the counsel and orders of the Secretary. 
 
 The large force of the Treasury Department, 
 throughout the country numbered more than twenty- 
 four thousand. The Treasury Building, in which are 
 focalized all departmental activities, covers nearly an 
 entire city block. Under its roof some two-thousand 
 officers, clerks and employees are always busily en- 
 gaged. All visitors to Washington have seen it, and 
 many have wandered through its wide, extensive 
 halls. It was in this center of the vast network of dut- 
 ies and relationships that I found myself. 
 
 Twice a week, for about an hour, I met the 
 President and all other Secretaries in formal sessions 
 of the Cabinet. Each member reported the doings or 
 proposed doings of his department, and responded 
 to the President's questions. 
 
 These meetings were always interesting, as they 
 brought to the attention of all, the various problems 
 relating to the several bureaus of the Government 
 Administration. They also served to enlighten the 
 President as to the quality and efficiency of the ad- 
 ministration whereof he stood before the people as 
 the administrative chief. 
 
 My contact with the President was not limited 
 to the meetings of the Cabinet. Not infrequently I 
 had occasion to consult with him on some matter of 
 departmental policy or administration, and now and 
 
Organization of the Treasury Department 109 
 
 again he sent for me to make inquiries. In a more 
 intimate and social way also, I had opportunities to 
 study the expression of his mind and enjoy the revel- 
 ations of his personality. 
 
 It has long been the custom for the President 
 to invite all the members of his Cabinet and their 
 wives to an annual dinner. These events were fol- 
 lowed by official dinners given in due course by each 
 of the Cabinet members, commencing with the Sec- 
 retary of State. On these occasions, the President and 
 his wife were guests of honor and on few occasions, 
 if any, did the President fail to attend. 
 
 These dinners were quite informal in character 
 — social events marked by a great freedom and famil- 
 iarity of conversation. Thev occurred nine times each 
 year, so during the period of nearly five years I en- 
 joyed such opportunities some forty times or more. 
 The President lent himself to these occasions with an 
 easy grace, without compromising the dignity which 
 properly attached to him as the "head of the family." 
 
 At this point I may as well set down my analysis 
 and estimate of the man who won so high a place in 
 the confidence and love of the American people. 
 
XVII 
 
 It is not a simple task for the chemist, skillful 
 though he may be, to analyze a complex material 
 substance, determine the variety of elements which 
 compose it, and finally tabulate them all, assigning to 
 each the true proportion it may bear to the associate 
 whole. 
 
 How much more difficult, indeed how wholly 
 impossible, to correctly analyze and set forth in true 
 proportion, the subtle elements which constitute a 
 human personality, yet that is substantially what we 
 try to accomplish in passing judgment upon those 
 who, by virtue of high position, challenge us to this 
 sort of analyzation. Conscious of my inability to be 
 exact and just in manifold details, I am tempted to 
 present what, after a study of four years or more, I 
 conceive to be the leading elements of William Mc- 
 Kinley. 
 
 He was the product, as we all are, of the com- 
 bined influence of heredity, the environment which 
 surrounded him from childhood, and his own reac- 
 tions, mental and moral, to these influences as they 
 played upon him until, in the fullness of time, he 
 achieved his distinguishing personality. 
 
 To classify him by a single phrase, I should 
 honor him with this appellation, "An ideal American 
 citizen." He was a combination of many virtues, but 
 not pre-eminent in any one special direction. He was 
 not a scientist, nor a poet, nor distnguished in liter- 
 ature or philosophy. He was related in his thought 
 to practical affairs. Events had brought him in close 
 
 —110— 
 
Impressions of President McKinley 111 
 
 touch with our political life, and through his exper- 
 ience in Congress, and as governor of a great state, 
 he had gained political wisdom. 
 
 He understood men, and perceived clearly the 
 springs of action, noble and ignoble, by which they 
 were moved. He himself was high-minded and pure 
 in his impulses and purposes. He loved his country 
 and cherished a deep sympathy for all its people, ir- 
 respective of race, political leanings or religious prej- 
 udice. 
 
 In his public addresses, he made a successful 
 appeal to the higher sentiments, which in reality con- 
 stitute the only true bond of union among men. Of 
 his sincerity in this, there can be no doubt. Not a 
 great orator, he nevertheless moved the people and 
 won their respect, confidence and love. 
 
 It is true that he was a politician in the better 
 sense of that word. He was ambitious for place and 
 power, but would not himself stoop to ignoble means 
 to secure either. He understood the dubious methods 
 adopted by all political parties to win popular sup- 
 port and bring in victory for their platforms and 
 candidates. To much he must have had to close his 
 eyes, with pitiful regret that the ways of Democracy 
 do not run on higher levels. 
 
 Triumphantly elected and duly installed in his 
 high office, he realized the pinnacle of his worthy 
 ambition. He felt himself to be qualified to discharge 
 the duties involved in it; and to perform them, he 
 applied himself to his great work. 
 
 By many he was misjudged as complacent and 
 weak, subject to undue influence from the more 
 powerful among those responsible for his election. 
 "He lacks backbone," was a phrase not then uncom- 
 
112 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 mon. To a degree, in the beginning, I myself feared 
 it might be true. His engaging kindness of manner, 
 his general urbanity toward all classes and conditions 
 of men, lent plausibility to that precept. He wore 
 indeed a "glove of velvet", but the hand beneath was 
 strong and firm. 
 
 Possessed of an easy grace and a wonderful 
 tactfulness, he won others to his point of view; even 
 those who came to curse him retired penitent and 
 ashamed. He used direct argument sparingly, but con- 
 vinced his opponents by indirect suggestion. 
 
 To the cabinet and the members of his official 
 household, he was always urbane, yet maintained a 
 kindly dignity which discouraged undue familiarity. 
 He had a keen sense of humor and knew how to 
 laugh, but never condescended to mere levity nor 
 tolerated dubious jokes. 
 
 I have spoken of his quick insight and great 
 tact. The two incidents which follow may serve to 
 illustrate this. 
 
 At a cabinet meeting in the early stages of the 
 war with Spain, the Secretary of War, who had been 
 bitterly assailed by the public press, and had become 
 oversensitive and sore at these attacks, said to the 
 President, "Mr. President, there is an appointee of 
 yours holding a high position, whose official head I 
 want you to cut off. He has been guilty of great im- 
 propriety, and has deeply insulted me." 
 
 "Who is this man?" asked the President. 
 
 "He is Governor Brady of Alaska," retorted the 
 Secretary. 
 
 "Pray, what has he done?" 
 
 "He has issued a Thanksgiving proclamation, 
 
* . : ■ : ■'■■ m ■ fits* 
 
 Gloria 
 
 .■ 
 
Impressions of President McKinley 113 
 
 in which he grossly outrages me and the Department 
 of which I am chief." 
 
 "What has he said in his proclamation?" 
 
 "Here it is," replied the Secretary, opening a 
 newspaper, from which he read a clause from the 
 proclamation: "The American people owe thanks 
 to God for having brought to our knowledge the 
 weakness for our Department of War." 
 
 Governor Brady had been appointed Governor 
 of Alaska by Mr. McKinley. He was a man who at 
 an early period had found his way into that region, 
 was well acquainted with the country, and did in- 
 deed possess the experience and character to make 
 his selection a wise one. 
 
 The President saw that the Secretary of War 
 was in an excited state of mind, and no doubt to gain 
 time he asked that the paper be passed up to him. 
 Glancing at the objectionable paragraph, he re- 
 marked, "I do not see, Mr. Secretary, that he men- 
 tioned your name." 
 
 "No, but he means me," insisted the Secretary. 
 
 "I am not sure of that," said the President with 
 a smile playing over his face, added, "You see, I am 
 Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy; per- 
 haps he means me." 
 
 "So much the worse," replied the Secretary, 
 "the more important it is that he be removed." 
 
 Pausing a moment, the President replied, "Leave 
 the paper with me. I'll find out whether he means 
 you or me. If I find out he means me, shall I tell you 
 what I'll do?" 
 
 "Yes - 1 -." 
 
 "Well, if I find out he means me, I'll forgive 
 him." 
 
114 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 A loud laugh went up from every member of 
 the cabinet, in which not even the Secretary of War 
 could refrain from joining. The incident passed, and 
 never was referred to again. 
 
 On another occasion, the Secretary of State 
 presented to the cabinet meeting, a communication 
 from a foreign government which all considered to 
 be unreasonable in its matter, and to say the least, 
 discourteous in one of its paragraphs. The question 
 was raised as to the proper form of reply. 
 
 Comments and suggestions were indulged in 
 until Mr. Root, his mind warmed into action, de- 
 livered himself of his thought in relation to the mat- 
 ter. It was an extensive monologue, in which he 
 epitomized the irritating communication and formu- 
 lated in specific terms his conception of a suitable 
 reply. When he had concluded the President re- 
 marked, "What you have said is admirable; I wish it 
 had been taken in shorthand from your lips. Won't 
 you dictate it again to your stenographer so that we 
 may have it before us for deliberate consideration 
 at our next meeting?" 
 
 At the next session, the paper was presented. It 
 was fine, clear and forcible — a worthy emanation 
 from Mr. Root's remarkable mind. As he finished 
 the reading of it, the cabinet members, for the first 
 time perhaps, clapped hands in approval, all except 
 the President. 
 
 For a moment or two he sat in silence, then ad- 
 dressing himself to the author of the paper, he said, 
 "It is admirable; I wish I could do a thing like that. 
 I notice all applauded it. I would have joined in, 
 except for one short paragraph, in which you come 
 back with a retort which the subject may fully justify. 
 
Impressions of President McKinley 115 
 
 As your words fell on my ear, a doubt of their wisdom 
 entered my mind. Quite likely I am wrong. But I 
 wish you would again read the paragraph to which I 
 refer." 
 
 The paragraph was read, and the President con- 
 tinued, "Your idea is fine. The communication it 
 answers would justify it, but it occurs to me that the 
 thought might be conveyed in words less sharp and 
 emphatic. You know harsh words can always be re- 
 sorted to. I don't know that I can offer a modification 
 that I, myself, should be satisfied with." 
 
 With a pencil he re-phrased the paragraph, mak- 
 ing it carry the identical thought in a less direct way. 
 
 "How would that do?" he asked. 
 
 Mr. Root looked at the paragraph and exclaimed, 
 "It is a great improvement on my words, and I beg 
 to adopt it." 
 
 I narrate this because it shows how the quick 
 mind of McKinley caught the one false note which 
 the rest of us did not perceive. It illustrates too, his 
 fine tact in criticising a phrase which might perhaps 
 be the very one in which the author felt a special 
 pride. I could give many other illustrations of his 
 keen powers of perception and his delicate methods 
 of criticism or rebuke, but I forebear. 
 
 As a man of mind power, of fine character, seek- 
 ing always the path of justice and right, he grew on 
 me as the years passed. My first distrust was trans- 
 formed into confidence. My earlier respect ripened 
 into admiring love. 
 
XVIII 
 
 In marked contrast as to temperament and person- 
 ality, but nevertheless deeply admired by me was 
 McKinley's predecessor in the Presidential chair, 
 Grover Cleveland. 
 
 It was my great privilege, in the summer of 
 1897, to get a "close-up" view of him. He had twice 
 served for terms of four years each, as President of the 
 United States, and was now living in retirement with 
 his wife and three young children, in their modest 
 home on the shore of Buzzard's Bay. 
 
 At the earnest suggestion of a neighboring friend 
 of his, I had doubtfully consented to call upon the 
 ex-President. I say "doubtfully consented," because 
 we were of different political parties. He had put 
 aside official robes, while I was then holding office 
 under his immediate successor, William McKinley. 
 It seemed to me perhaps a little incongruous, that I 
 should call upon him, but I had admired him in his 
 highly able and just administration of his great office, 
 and was really pleased at the prospective meeting 
 with a man whom I so much respected. 
 
 He had been notified by telephone that we were 
 coming, and as our power launch neared the small 
 landing not far from his house, he met us there, 
 greeting us in a cordial manner. He was a man of 
 considerable girth and stature. His face was browned 
 from exposure to the sun. He was dressed in loose- 
 fitting trousers and a blouse or lounging jacket. On 
 his head he wore a black Kossuth hat with the brim 
 turned down all the way around. 
 
 —116— 
 
Meeting Ex-President Grover Cleveland 111 
 
 Leading the way, he took us by a side entrance, 
 through the house to a broad front porch which over- 
 looked the bay. There we found Mrs. Cleveland, Mr. 
 Bourke Cochran, Mr. E.C.Benedict of New York, and 
 another gentleman whose name I have forgotten. 
 The three children, Ruth and the other two, com- 
 pleted the group, and when we newcomers were 
 seated, there were ten in the party. 
 
 I observed with pleasure that each of the chil- 
 dren endeavored at once to monopolize the attention 
 of their father. This he complacently endured. Upon 
 his knees there was room for only two, but the am- 
 bitious third one was persistent. Such sliding down 
 and climbing up was in itself amusing. As one 
 climbed, Mr. Cleveland reached his arm to assist; as 
 one slid down, he lent a protecting hand to guard a 
 fall. This was quite automatic on his part, for he 
 paid close attention to the commonplace talk, occa- 
 sionally dropping a word or two to himself. 
 
 Mr. Cleveland was not voluble of speech. He 
 was by nature and training, reserved and cautious, 
 not much given to jokes, and seldom indulging in 
 laughter. 
 
 When the noon hour drew near, he asked his 
 wife, "Can we not ask these friends to dinner with 
 us?" 
 
 "No, dear," she responded, "the cook has her 
 day off, and at best we have only that fish you brought 
 in this morning." 
 
 Mr. Benedict's beautiful yacht "Oneida" lay at 
 anchor a half mile away. "No, no," he interposed, 
 "no dinner here. I left word with my chef to get up 
 his best dinner on the yacht and I want you all to 
 join me." 
 
118 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 Mrs. Cleveland answered, "My maid is away; 
 the children must be looked after and fed. You must 
 excuse me." 
 
 Then Mr. Cleveland said, "Well, I think I will 
 stay with Frank." (Mrs. Cleveland) 
 
 "No, dear," she rejoined, "you must go with 
 the gentlemen and have a good time." 
 
 Mr. Cochran and his friend declined because 
 obliged to take the next train to New York. Thus 
 our dinner party was reduced to four, Mr. Benedict, 
 Mr. Cleveland, my friend C. S. Hamlin, and myself. 
 
 "Isn't there any way we can display our sense of 
 hospitality?" Mr. Cleveland persisted. 
 
 "Yes, dear," she rejoined, "you can ask them 
 to take a drink with you. You know the doctor has 
 prescribed whiskey three times a day for you. Yester- 
 day you omitted it twice and the day before, you 
 neglected it entirely." 
 
 "Yes," said the ex-President, "Benedict won't 
 join me, Mr. Hamlin is a total abstainer, so none is 
 left, Mr. Gage, except you. Will you join me?" 
 
 "Well," I replied, "as it's the first time and may 
 be the last, I believe I'll join." 
 
 "Come then," he said, "it will be more con- 
 venient in the house." 
 
 Seated at a table, we were waited upon by a 
 maid with a bottle of whiskey and a pitcher of water. 
 Passing the bottle along to me, he remarked, "Help 
 yourself." 
 
 Pushing it back to him, I said, "No, you set the 
 pace. If public rumor is well founded, you have had 
 more experience in this than I, and know better how 
 to do it." This remark excited no comment from him. 
 Pouring a very small portion into his glass, he re- 
 
Meeting Ex-President Grover Cleveland 119 
 
 turned the bottle to me. I then carefully poured into 
 my glass a quantity about equal to that which he had 
 taken. I put my glass against his and said, "It seems 
 to be an even Steven." Adding some water, we lifted 
 our glasses, and I again broke the silence. "This, to 
 me, is a memorable occasion; I would like to associate 
 it with some sentiment." 
 
 Pausing a moment, in an impressive manner, he 
 said, "Let it be this: 'Our Country'," and we poured 
 the red liquor down our throats. 
 
 After an interval of silence, Mr. Cleveland sooke. 
 "You suggested a moment ago that I had had a wide 
 experience as a drinker. I well know the injurious 
 reports that found their wav into the newspapers, but 
 I want to sav to you in all seriousness that such re- 
 ports were false and often malicious. If you have not 
 used intoxicating liquor more freely than I have, you 
 have remained a temperate man." 
 
 I responded, "Death, you know, is said to like a 
 shinine mark, and those in high places invite the shaft 
 of malice." 
 
 "Yes, that is true," he said, "and I suffered in 
 silence these detractions, believing that time would 
 bring in the truth; but when the traducers assailed 
 my family, that hurt me deeply. You saw my sweet, 
 bright daughter Ruth on the porch. Did she look 
 like an idiot? Yet it was so publicly announced. In- 
 deed, in one paper, it was boldly stated that I was in 
 St. Louis to place her in an institution for the feeble 
 minded. Neither I, nor my daughter, had ever been 
 in that city. That was hard to bear, but it seems that 
 even that was not enough. As a climax, I was accused 
 of being harsh and cruel to my wife. It was even said 
 that I had been heard to threaten her with physical 
 
120 Memoirs of Lyman }. Gage 
 
 violence. Can you imagine, Mr. Gage, any man so 
 coarse and brutal as to be even unkind to a woman as 
 beautiful and as good as the one you have been talk- 
 ing with?" 
 
 As the memories of all this came to his mind, he 
 grew bitter and angry. I could not blame him for 
 that. After a pause I changed the course of our talk 
 by interrogating him thus: "Mr. Cleveland, there is 
 a question in my mind, which I burn to ask. It has 
 a psychological basis rather than a mere personal 
 curiosity. Here you are now, after eight years in a 
 place of power second to none in the world. In that 
 position you guided the destiny of a great nation. 
 Then as now, new questions were arising, new move- 
 ments, some of them threatening to the State, but you 
 had a sense of power to control and check. Now your 
 power is gone, probably never to be resumed. The 
 daily papers bring to you in multiplied forms new 
 currents which still menace our political structure and 
 our social future. Feeling now your own comparative 
 helplessness, does not your mind become depressed 
 with gloomy thoughts as you reflect upon our coun- 
 try's future? Do you understand me? I want to see how 
 all this lies in your mind." 
 
 "Yes," he replied, "I understand you and con- 
 fess to feeling the depression to which you refer, but," 
 he added, "not for long. I feel certain that our rep- 
 resentee democratic government is the best form 
 yet devised. While dangerous movements may or will 
 arise, I have a firm, abiding confidence in the sober 
 second thought of the American people." 
 
 In due course we all boarded the yacht, and 
 while the boat slowly sailed over the smooth waters 
 of the bay, we enjoyed to the full a delicious repast. 
 
Meeting Ex-President Grover Cleveland 121 
 
 An excellent brand of champagne quickened the 
 tongues of those of us who imbibed it. Mr. Cleveland 
 declined it, but when urged by our host, drank one 
 glass. Mr. Hamlin was a total abstainer, so it will be 
 seen that a heavy duty fell upon Mr. Benedict and 
 myself. If I remember rightly, we offered no serious 
 objection. Yes, that wine was good. Looking back now 
 from these dry days, I still enjoy the memory of it. 
 
XIX 
 
 When McKinley assumed office, the affairs 
 of the country were at a comparatively low 
 ebb; the effects of the financial panic of 1893 had not 
 yet been overcome. 
 
 Under the leadership of William J. Bryan, the 
 aggressive and dangerous compaign for the free and 
 unlimited coinage of silver had aggravated the in- 
 dustrial depression already in evidence. Notwith- 
 standing the defect of the revolutionary proposals of 
 the Bryant movement, it was evident that some new 
 and stimulating influence was necessary to restore 
 confidence to enterprise and give fresh courage to 
 commerce and trade. The financial situation of the 
 public treasury had been weakened bv the same 
 influences which had impaired the activities of our 
 industrial life. 
 
 To cure this evil situation was the prime pur- 
 pose and ambition of McKinley. To restore and 
 strengthen the public revenue, a new tariff act, after- 
 ward known as the Dingley tariff bill, was introduced 
 into Congress, and promptly became the law. There 
 was still latent in the public mind some doubt 
 whether the Republican Party, which had declared 
 for the maintenance of the established gold standard, 
 would remain true to its pledges or be weakened and 
 perhaps corrupted through influences from within the 
 party itself. An incident of the period, vividly im- 
 pressed on my memory, illustrates the widely dissem- 
 inated fears. 
 
 For some years there had existed in Boston, 
 
 —122— 
 
Finances of McKinley Administration 123 
 
 Cincinnati, Chicago, and St. Louis, influential or- 
 ganizations known as commercial clubs. The individ- 
 uals composing these clubs were limited in number 
 and were chosen from the most important commercial 
 and financial men in their respective cities. Each of 
 these clubs met around the banquet table six or seven 
 times a year, not to carry on propaganda of any sort, 
 but to consider conditions that would operate to 
 the betterment of their respective municipalities, and 
 to lend the united influence of their personalities to 
 such progressive movements as might win their sup- 
 port. 
 
 On the occasion now referred to, the Cincinnati 
 Club invited the Boston, Chicago and St. Louis Clubs 
 to be their guests for a period of three days. This hos- 
 pitality closed with a luxurious banquet on the even- 
 ing of the third day. I had been a member of the 
 Chicago Club for many years, and as such, was of 
 course included in this generous invitation. 
 
 My personal desire to participate in the pleasure 
 of the important event was diminished by my sense of 
 obligation to official duty in Washington. I finally 
 compromised the two by attending only the final 
 banquet. Before deciding to do so, I talked with 
 President McKinley as to the propriety of going. I 
 said to him, "If I am present, I will probably be called 
 upon for a 'few words', although I have declined an 
 invitation to make any formal address. Now, I do not 
 wish to respond to even an informal call, unless I can 
 take from you to the company of representative men 
 some inspiring word, which shall operate, if possible 
 to break the gloom of despondency which for the last 
 four years has rested upon the business life of the 
 people. 
 
124 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 "On our financial system, I want to quote you 
 as absolutely determined, against all opposition, to 
 maintain the gold standard. I wish to assure them that 
 the Democratic tariff which has done so much to 
 weaken our industrial life will be superseded by 
 new tariff duties, which will strengthen the Govern- 
 ment in its finances and stimulate our industrial and 
 business activities. If commissioned by you to say this, 
 I will go; otherwise I will remain here." 
 
 His reply was: "Go, by all means. You may 
 quote me, as suggested, without hesitation or reserve. 
 Tell them also to recover in their minds the elements 
 of faith and courage. The cloud of depression is pass- 
 ing, the brightening sun is ascending. The influence 
 of such a body of men, representing the business 
 forces of four great cities, is incalculable. They must 
 be leaders in optimism, not heralds of despair." 
 
 The banquet took place in the evening in a 
 beautiful dining hall, and between three and four 
 hundred men were assembled. It is no exaggeration 
 to say that there were gathered the most intelligent 
 and forceful men of business life in America. I had 
 improved some hours previous to the meeting by 
 coming into personal touch with a number of these 
 men, and had discovered in each a pessimistic out- 
 look as to the future. 
 
 The opening address of the first speaker at the 
 banquet was tinged with a similar spirit and his clos- 
 ing words carried no inspiring thought. At this point, 
 the chairman called me to my feet with a complimen- 
 tary remark or two, and asked for a "few words," it 
 being understood that I had declined to make a 
 formal speech. Responding to this call, I quoted, with 
 all the emphasis I could command, the words I was 
 
Finances of McKinley Administration 125 
 
 authorized by the President to utter. The reaction 
 on the hearers was phenomenal. 
 
 As I took my seat at the close of my six or seven 
 minutes, with a common impulse the diners rose to 
 a man. They waved their napkins in the air and 
 shouted full-lunged words of approval. At one end 
 of the dining room stood a large pipe organ which 
 had hitherto been silent. At this juncture, some one 
 leaped to the keyboard and set it pealing with our 
 loved anthem, "America." Every man of the comoany 
 who could sing, and some who vainly tried, rendered 
 in unison the noble words: "My country, 'tis of 
 Thee." 
 
 The words of the President had evidently 
 worked a psychological change in the mental atmos- 
 phere, and from that moment new hopes and new 
 determinings seemed to animate them all. 
 
 I may add here that the war with Spain, which 
 began a few months later, created an extraordinary 
 demand for all goods, manufactures and services, 
 making good the hopes of better times which were 
 born that evening at the banquet in Cincinnati. 
 
 The most marked interruption to our regular 
 national life in the first four years of the McKinley 
 administration was caused by the war with Soain. 
 That war was brought on, by the conviction that our 
 nation should intervene with force to save Cuba 
 from further domination by Spain. 
 
 For years that island, so near our own shores, 
 had been in a state of revolution and had resisted, 
 with varying degrees of success, the efforts of Spain 
 to subjugate her. In this struggle the sympathies of 
 our people were wholly with Cuba. 
 
 In the early months of 1898, the voice of our 
 
126 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 people, expressing itself through Congress, demanded 
 intervention in Cuba's behalf and cried loudly for 
 war. 
 
 McKinley, himself, was opposed to war. He knew 
 its horrors from his own experiences in our Civil 
 War. Furthermore, he cherished the hope that by 
 moral pressure a way could be found to buy from 
 Spain a relinouishment of all her rights of sovereignty 
 over the unfortunate island. I had reason to know 
 that his best efforts were bent in this direction. 
 
 It must have been evident to the Soanish Gov- 
 ernment that to contend in arms with the United 
 States would be hopeless. But Spanish pride is his- 
 torically great, and the Imperial Government of Spain 
 dared not act in oooosition to the will of its people. 
 Granted time, McKinley was confident that bv peace- 
 ful methods the liberation of Cuba could be achieved. 
 But time was not allowed him. The pressure from 
 our people grew daily until it could no longer be 
 resisted; it became plain that unless the President 
 asked Congress to declare war, it would make such a 
 declaration regardless of his protests or appeals. 
 
 With this inevitable fact before him, he regret- 
 fully abandoned the program he had cherished for a 
 peaceful solution of the deplorable question. 
 
 The declaration of war on April 21, 1898, was a 
 great stimulus to industry and commerce. The War 
 and Navy Departments at once became enormous 
 buyers of war material, and the wheels of manufactur- 
 ing plants could not turn fast enough to supply the 
 extraordinary demand. 
 
XX 
 
 I have already quoted the adage: "The revenue of 
 the State is the State." With a war on its hands, 
 Congress levied new taxes, and thus did provide an 
 increased and ample revenue. Anticipating that pub- 
 lic expenditures would necessarily be immediate, it 
 provided for the issue and sale of public bonds to the 
 extent of two hundred millions of dollars, such bonds 
 to carry interest to the buyer at the rate of three per 
 cent, per annum. 
 
 The act authorizing the bond issue directed that 
 the bonds should be offered at par and applied for 
 direct to the Treasury, which would honor the 
 smaller applications first, beginning with subscrip- 
 tions for fifty dollar amounts, next those for one 
 hundred dollar units, and so on up to larger applica- 
 tions. The idea was to give the more humble sub- 
 scriber the preference — a new experiment in govern- 
 ment finance. 
 
 Previous to this time issues of government bonds 
 had been sold in large blocks, or as an entirety to the 
 syndicates and bankers offering the best terms or bids 
 for the same. 
 
 Congress sought by the new method to secure a 
 wide distribution of the bonds among the people and 
 so interest the largest possible number in the Govern- 
 ment, on the theory that "Where the treasure is, there 
 the heart is also." 
 
 The idea was a good one, but the results hoped 
 for were not realized. It would take too long to here 
 analyze the reasons. The whole issue was over sub- 
 
 —127— 
 
128 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 scribed several times in excess of the limit. I am re- 
 ferring to this loan, not to clarify financial history, 
 but rather incidental to it. The Treasury Department 
 was made the object of a vituperative attack by the 
 Democratic opposition press, based upon the facts 
 I will briefly set forth. 
 
 The successful placing of the loan of two hun- 
 dred millions involved, as an incidental evil, the 
 gathering in and locking up, for a period, of an enor- 
 mous sum in the Government's strong-boxes, where it 
 would be idle and useless until disbursed. This large 
 fund would be withdrawn from industrial and com- 
 mercial channels and this at a time when increasing 
 business activities could least afford to suffer such a 
 depletion. 
 
 There was a way to avoid this by allowing in- 
 coming funds to be deposited in banks which should 
 qualify, as provided by law, to receive and hold pub- 
 lic funds until requisitioned by the Treasury. 
 
 This plan was followed and almost the entire 
 two hundred million was distributed among national 
 banks as a deposit, subject to check from the Treas- 
 urer, and secured by equivalent deposits of govern- 
 ment bonds. 
 
 Public moneys, once in the hands of the Treas- 
 urer, cannot be parted with by him except upon war- 
 rants duly drawn for public disbursements. Once in 
 the Treasury proper, no part of them can be with- 
 drawn for deposit in National Bank depositories. On 
 the other hand, all moneys held by depository banks 
 can at any time be transferred to the Treasury itself. 
 
 Thus it will be seen that to prevent the tying 
 up of the large volume of money coming in, it was 
 
Incidents as Secretary of Treasury 129 
 
 advisable to halt it on its way to the Treasury proper 
 by temporarily depositing it in qualified depositories. 
 
 The largest bank of that time, located in New 
 York City, deposited with the Treasury four millions 
 of government bonds and applied for a deposit of a 
 corresponding amount. Its application, with all others 
 from all parts of the country, was duly complied with. 
 The large amount of bonds deposited by it worked 
 to its disadvantage in this way. To distribute the 
 money fairly among the applicants, it was necessary 
 to gather the incoming fund into some central agency, 
 from which it could be equitably redistributed. 
 
 A large deposit of bonds by the New York bank 
 made it a secure agency for this work, and while it 
 was daily in receipt of public moneys, it was also daily 
 ordered to distribute them among other depository 
 banks. 
 
 Thus its own desired deposit was again left un- 
 satisfied until the distribution had been completed 
 when it finally enjoyed an accumulating fund until 
 the full amount of its bond deposit with the Treasury 
 had been reached. 
 
 Nevertheless, the Secretary was denounced in 
 bitter terms by some influential Democratic dailies. 
 He was charged with showing favoritism and corrupt- 
 ly ministering to the banking interest as a whole, and 
 to the large New York bank in particular. These 
 harsh, unjust criticisms were not relished by me, but 
 I recognized that they were all in the day's work, and 
 bore them without repining. 
 
 The unreasonable hostility of the Democratic 
 press, and the efforts of the Democratic minority in 
 Congress to discredit the administration, received 
 another stimulus from the sale of the United States 
 
130 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 Customs House property on Wall Street in the City 
 of New York. 
 
 An act of Congress had directed the Secretary 
 of the Treasury to sell that building, provided the 
 sum of three millions or more could be realized. The 
 Secretary undertook to execute the will of Congress. 
 
 Advertisements soliciting proposals or bids for 
 the property, were carried for thirty consecutive days 
 in eleven New York papers; and other agencies were 
 utilized to encourage possible investors to become 
 bidders. 
 
 A day was fixed for the opening of sealed pro- 
 posals for purchase, but only one of the bids could 
 be construed as a bona-fide proposition. That was a 
 bid of $3,265,000.00 from the National City Bank of 
 New York. 
 
 I was much gratified to realize for the Govern- 
 ment more than a quarter million dollars in excess 
 of the "upset price" fixed by Congress, and as prompt- 
 ly as possible that offer was accepted and turned over 
 to the legal department of the Treasurer. In due 
 course the bank expressed its desire to pay in cash 
 the whole purchase price, less the sum of $50,000.00, 
 withheld until a final and complete conveyance from 
 the Government. There were two ways in which this 
 payment could be accomplished. 
 
 First: — By a deposit with the Sub-Treasury in 
 New York to the credit of the Treasurer of the 
 United States. 
 
 Second: — To deposit in a regularly qualified 
 Natonal Bank depository, subject to the check of the 
 Treasurer. 
 
 The latter course was adopted. It was undoubt- 
 
Incidents as Secretary of Treasury 131 
 
 edly the wiser method. The fund would be more 
 secure and equally available. Its payment would be 
 secured by a deposit with the Government of an 
 amount of its own bonds in excess of the sum so de- 
 posited, while if deposited with the Sub-Treasury, its 
 payment would be secured only by the personal bond 
 of the Assistant Treasurer, (with personal sureties) 
 in the sum of six hundred thousand dollars. When it 
 is realized that officer usually had in his possession 
 over a hundred millions of public money, it will be 
 seen that the deposit in the bank was in the abstract 
 more secure. The institution chosen for this deposit 
 was the National City Bank. In some respects the oper- 
 ation was confusing to the layman. Ostensibly, it was 
 charged the bank was paying a large sum to the Gov- 
 ernment. Really it was retaining it on deposit — not 
 paying it at all. 
 
 At any rate the Democratic opposition seized 
 upon it as an excuse for a more vigorous attack. Con- 
 fusing editorials were printed, charging malfeasance 
 by the Secretary, and the halls of both houses of Con- 
 gress echoed the denunciatory voices of several gifted 
 Democratic orators. 
 
 By these methods the public was misled. To 
 bring out the truth, the Republican majority in both 
 the House and the Senate adopted resolutions, the 
 general significance of which may be gathered from 
 the following resolution passed by the House of Rep- 
 resentatives: 
 
 "RESOLVED, That the Secretary of the Treasury 
 be, and he hereby is, requested to furnish the House 
 of Representatives, the following information: 
 
 First. Copies of all letters, agreements, papers, or 
 documents between the Treasury Department of 
 
132 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 the United States, or any person connected there- 
 with, and the National City Bank and the Hanover 
 National Bank, of the City of New York, or any per- 
 son acting for them, or either of them, since the fourth 
 day of March, eighteen hundred and ninety-seven, 
 relating to the depositing of public funds, bonds, or 
 revenues in said bank or banks, or any other relation 
 or business transactions now existing or heretofore 
 had between the Government and the said banks, or 
 either of them. 
 
 Second. The amount of public money, bonds, or 
 revenue deposited with said banks, or either of them, 
 or with any national bank by the Government, upon 
 what security, for what length of time, and the reasons 
 therefor, and whether said banks, or any of them, 
 have paid the Government any interest on said de- 
 posits, and if so, how much, and all other information 
 concerning the same or in any way relating thereto. 
 
 Third. And also the date of the sale of the custom- 
 house property of the United States in New York City 
 to said National City Bank, the date of the execution 
 of the deed thereto, the date and manner of payment 
 of purchase money therefor, the disposition of the 
 proceeds of said sale, and whether or not the Gov- 
 ernment has paid any rents for said property or any 
 portion thereof for any purpose since the day of sale, 
 and if so to whom, and all facts relating to said trans- 
 action." 
 
 The resolution from the Senate, covered prac- 
 tically the same ground. This action by both Houses 
 of Congress was welcomed by me. It gave my Depart- 
 ment the opportunity to answer the malicious slander 
 and to vindicate the integrity of its administration. 
 
 If the businessman's conduct is sincerely be- 
 lieved by himself to be honest and proper, he will 
 have the courage and strength to stand solid and im- 
 movable against any unworthy attack by the unscrup- 
 ulous concerning his management. A clear conscience 
 
2P 
 
Incidents as Secretary of Treasury 133 
 
 is a strong weapon of defense in times of ruthless as- 
 sault, to which no individual or enterprise is immune. 
 Only those who have passed through an emergency 
 of this kind can fully appreciate the patience required 
 while waiting for the disclosure of all the facts to 
 bring a just conclusion. 
 
 Complete and full answer was made to both 
 branches of Congress. It required a small volume in 
 each case, which was sent to Congress as promptly as 
 possible, and published in the newspapers. The an- 
 swer thus made was so specific and clear as to be un- 
 derstandable by even the ordinary man. It served to 
 close the mouth of the previous objectors. At least it 
 silenced the clamor and left my Department to pursue 
 its important duties in peace. 
 
 My report brought commendatory words from 
 many directions, which in a measure soothed my 
 wounded sensibilities. I have on more than one oc- 
 casion been asked whether the position of Secretarv 
 did not give wide opportunities to operate for profit 
 in a legitimate way, by reason of advance knowledge 
 as to the future in the administration of the public 
 finances. 
 
 I will record my answer here: "If such oppor- 
 tunities exist, I never discovered them." Nor was I 
 ever approached by "big business" or the so-called 
 "money power," to enter into schemes for profit. 
 
 The days and years of my official life in Washing- 
 ton, generally speaking, passed agreeably enough. 
 Socially, I was brought into contact with men and 
 women distinguished in various walks of life. Din- 
 ners and receptions brought about acquaintances with 
 foreign ministers from nearly all countries. These I 
 found to be, if superior in manners and education, 
 
136 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 quite similar to us of the common sort in all the 
 elements which animate human nature in general 
 — similar virtues — similar weaknesses — similar van- 
 ities. 
 
 BANKING AND CURRENCY REFORM 
 
 How Can it be Secured? 
 (Lyman J. Gage) 
 
 It is to be doubted if any question touching the 
 public economic reform is more pressing than the one 
 embraced in the headlines of this article and it is 
 doubtful if there be any important question more 
 neglected. 
 
 There is, to be sure, a general all around admission 
 that "reform" is needed, but as to the principles which 
 should govern such reform, there is comparative little 
 knowledge. At best this knowledge is held by a few and 
 their efforts to bring in reform appear to be nullified 
 by the public apathy and indifference. We seem to have 
 become involved in a vicious circle, or to have reached 
 what the French would call an "impasse". 
 
 It is, of course, recognized that "reform" must come, 
 if it come, through congressional action. Congress, 
 however, awaits the mandate of the people. The peo- 
 ple conscious of their own inability to fully under- 
 stand the question and formulate proper remedies, 
 refer the problem to the bankers, in whom they re- 
 pose high confidence. It is disputed, I know, that the 
 banking fraternity enjoys the confidence of the pub- 
 lic, but the fact that people of the United States have 
 at this moment from Fifteen to Twenty millions of 
 their financial resources deposited in the hands of the 
 banking fraternity is a sufficient demonstration of the 
 confidence claimed. The banking interest with more 
 or less aid from financial students and possibly ex- 
 perts, feebly conscious of their in the premises, pre- 
 pare measures and secure representation to Congress. 
 Congress — that is to say the representatives of the 
 people composing it — hardly better informed than 
 
Incidents as Secretary of Treasury 137 
 
 the party they represent receive these banking pro- 
 posals with lukewarm interest. They are suspicious 
 of the sources from which they emanate, and they 
 excuse themselves from necessary study of the ques- 
 tion, and especially from all activity in favoring re- 
 form, by asserting in substance "We hear nothing 
 from our constituents on this question. We are ready 
 to take action when they manifest a desire to do so"; 
 and, if they should speak their whole mind they would 
 add: "We are afraid these proposals are but a scheme 
 in the interest of banks and bankers for whose special 
 benefit we can hardly be expected to concern our- 
 selves." This then is the situation: 
 
 A public with small knowledge of the proper reme- 
 dies for our poorly constituted banking and currency 
 system. A Congress unwilling to respond unless to a 
 popular demand. 
 
 The body of bankers with better apprehensions of 
 what is needed, but without the necessary influence 
 to secure its inauguration. 
 
 The situation is aggravated by the lack of unity 
 among bankers themselves. What then is to be done? 
 Shall we drift along as in the past until new calamities 
 again enforce the lesson we ought already to have 
 sufficiently learned? 
 
 The most obvious suggestion is that banking men 
 should unite their views upon some particular meas- 
 ures and consolidate their influence in their behalf. 
 
 Does not the so-called Aldrich Bill embody provi- 
 sions adequate, if formulated into law, to be effective 
 to the end desired? 
 
 I will not argue the question here. I merely assert 
 my opinion in the affirmative. 
 
 Given, however, a concensus of opinion by the 
 bankers it would be necessary to gain for it political 
 support and healthy endorsement of the business pub- 
 lic. 
 
 That cannot be gained in any other manner than 
 by disseminating a knowledge of the truth as that 
 truth relates to the hazards of our present system and 
 
138 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 to the adequacy of measures proposed. On both as- 
 pects of the case there is a lamentable lack of knowl- 
 edge among even our more intelligent business men. 
 They would like to know and they would like to help, 
 but in regard to this subject they are from Missouri. 
 The twenty thousand, more or less, banks and bankers 
 in the United States constitute convenient, fairly ef- 
 fective and already established factors or agencies 
 which can be utilized for the dissemination of knowl- 
 edge and for securing needful public co-operation. 
 
 In every town of five thousand people or more, 
 the bankers should be induced to associate for the 
 consideration of the matter and where possible to 
 induce representative business men to meet where 
 they may listen to a fair presentation of the matter, 
 their real interest in it made clear and their co-opera- 
 tive interest secured. 
 
 In the logic of circumstances, the burden of this 
 action falls upon the bankers, and something of a 
 burden it no doubt is. But the bankers are in a broad 
 sense the guardians and dispensers of that enormous 
 force — credit — by the use of which the work of the 
 world in these modern days is accomplished. The 
 charge of the machinery so to speak, bv which credit 
 is made effective to the world's work is in their hands. 
 From the orderly use of it they gain appropriate 
 reward, and in the regular continuous operation of 
 it, they, and the whole community, are most deeply 
 concerned. The primary responsibility for proper con- 
 ditions favorable to the affairs of credit rests upon 
 the banks, and perceiving as they must the weakness 
 and dangers of our system as now organized they 
 ought to take the initiative for betterment, or reform. 
 I propose that the action be taken by the bankers of 
 New York Citv. If a few New York bankers — a dozen 
 or fifteen is enough — would associate in a friendly 
 way to push reform thev could successfully adopt a 
 program that would inevitably lead to it. 
 
 How should they proceed? Well, I venture sug- 
 gestions only. The small body to which I have just 
 
Incidents as Secretary of Treasury 139 
 
 referred should appoint a general committee of, say 
 seventeen or more, intelligent, fairly representative 
 bankers from ten or more representative cities. Let 
 this committee meet and stay in session long enough 
 to agree, if they can, on some bill — the Aldrich Bill 
 if you please — and formulate plans to carry on the 
 missionary work necessary to inform and interest the 
 business public. 
 
 Paid agencies of a superior quality would undoubt- 
 edly be required and a considerable fund for expenses 
 would be necessary. The latter could easily be secured 
 through the proper appeal to the banks of the country. 
 A contribution from each of the amount equal to one 
 one-hundreths of one per cent upon their respective 
 capacities would furnish a fund of two hundred thous- 
 and dollars or more which would be twice sufficient. 
 Will it be said: "The bankers themselves, nor even the 
 committee of seventeen, cannot agree upon anything." 
 Well, if that be so, it is well enough to learn the fact. 
 If such a body cannot agree it is idle to suppose that 
 Congress can. 
 
 In that case let us confess our inability to conduct 
 in an intelligent manner the affairs of our economic 
 life as that life is involved in or related to credit, 
 and so dismiss from thought and profitless discussion 
 the whole subject matter of banking and currency 
 reform. 
 
XXI 
 
 March 4th, 1901, ended the period of four years 
 during which I had served as Secretary of the 
 Treasury. I had become fairly acquainted with the 
 Treasury Department in all of its multiple relations 
 and activities. I had not escaped criticisms, but with 
 the exception of the organized attack previously men- 
 tioned, I had comparatively little of which to com- 
 plain. My relations with the President had been 
 cordial and friendly. 
 
 On March 4th, 1901, having been re-elected, 
 Mr. McKinley was inaugurated for the second term. 
 In making up his new official family, he had invited 
 me to continue in my position, and this I consented 
 to do. I could not then forsee those clouds of disaster 
 which were yet below the horizon. 
 
 The physical health of my wife Cornelia, pre- 
 viously impaired, rapidly failed, and in April she 
 passed away. This sad event went far to dislocate my 
 social relations and robbed my domestic life of all 
 its charm. 
 
 On September 14th, President McKinley met his 
 death at the hands of an assassin, in the Exposition 
 Park in Buffalo. The Vice-President, Theodore 
 Roosevelt, succeeded to the Presidency. 
 
 Closely following the death of McKinley, Mr. 
 Roosevelt took his oath of office in Buffalo, and im- 
 mediately afterward entrained to Washington to as- 
 sume his high office. He arrived about ten o'clock in 
 the evening. At the invitation of John Hay, Secretary 
 of State, I accompanied him in his carriage to meet 
 
 —140— 
 
Comparison of Two Presidents 141 
 
 the new President upon his arrival at the station. 
 Under our escort, President Roosevelt entered the 
 carriage in which we drove to the White House, 
 where he took formal possession. 
 
 On the way from the station, the new President 
 was deeply serious. He expressed his purpose to dis- 
 charge his new responsibilities according to his high- 
 est ability, declaring his intention to follow as closely 
 as possible the general policies which had governed 
 his predecessor. He said he desired to continue in 
 their positions all members of the McKinley Cabinet, 
 and asked both Secretary Hay and myself to continue 
 in our respective positions. 
 
 Secretary Hay had been desirous of retiring from 
 public life, but in response to this strong appeal he 
 consented to continue as Secretary of State. 
 
 I found a perfect contrast in the personalities 
 of the two men, McKinley and Roosevelt. I would 
 not like to speak in disparagement of the high, in 
 fact extraordinary qualities of the latter. Both were 
 great men, though completely different in their tem- 
 peraments, mental processes and expressions of per- 
 sonality. 
 
 Prior to his election as Vice-President, Mr. 
 Roosevelt had held office as Governor of New York, 
 and had played a leading role in the political activi- 
 ties of the Republican party in that State. It was 
 even broadly insinuated that his nomination was a 
 move by the Republican leaders of the Empire State 
 to maroon him in a place where his independent 
 ideas in political and official action would be less 
 disturbing to the party managers. However, his nom- 
 ination had been hailed with enthusiasm by the 
 
142 Memoirs of Lyman ]. Gage 
 
 people and he had come into office as Vice-President 
 on March 4th, 1901. 
 
 How hidden is the future! Who would have 
 forecast that six months later he would occupy the 
 White House and sit in the Presidential chair? But 
 so it was, and he discharged the duties thus imposed 
 with honor to himself and so much to the satisfaction 
 of his country, that in November, 1904, he was elected 
 by popular vote to fill that office for the next four 
 years. 
 
 I have ventured a description of William Mc- 
 Kinley, with whom I served for four years and six 
 months. I am tempted to delineate some of the quali- 
 ties and characteristics of Mr. Roosevelt, under whom 
 I served for about six months. 
 
 His personality invited study, as did that of 
 McKinley. In many respects the study was more 
 interesting. He was endowed by nature with, or had 
 developed in himself, the most extraordinary vigor 
 of both mind and body. Were I a believer in the 
 doctrine of re-incarnation, I, by some fortuitous 
 circumstance, should hold as a working hypothesis 
 that two spiritual entities had incarnated in him 
 simultaneously, for both in his physical and mental 
 expression he displayed the force and energy of two 
 strong men combined. 
 
 A cowboy, a soldier, a lover of all sports and 
 games, a tireless hunter of wild beasts, an explorer 
 in many lands — even these activities, indulged to 
 the limit of opportunity, did not completely satisfy 
 his adventurous spirit. His mind was as eager in the 
 pursuit of knowledge as were his physical powers 
 for action. 
 
 He was interested in art, science and philosophy, 
 
Comparison of Two Presidents 143 
 
 delved deep into history, and read widely in many 
 directions. He himself poured into books of his own 
 writing, the results of his observations and reflections. 
 
 "T. R." possessed a bold self-confidence, which 
 made him fearless in the expression of his convictions 
 or opinions. He did not possess the gift of oratory, 
 but as a public speaker was forceful and convincing. 
 A man thus endowed is apt to be precipitate in his 
 judgments, and sometimes indiscreet in action. To a 
 degree, he was, I think, the victim of these tendencies. 
 
 An incident illustrating this occurred in 1898, 
 while he yet was Assistant Secretary of the Navy, just 
 prior to the Spanish War. He had been requested to 
 bring some information to a meeting of the Cabinet. 
 It was duly announced that he was in waiting in the 
 ante-room. Before calling him in, the President asked 
 the Cabinet members: "Has Roosevelt told you what 
 he thinks we ought to do as to the ships of Spain 
 which are now en route to their colonies off our 
 coast?'* 
 
 A general "No" was the answer. 
 
 "I will ask him to repeat to you what he said to 
 me a day or two ago." 
 
 Mr. Roosevelt was then called in, gave the in- 
 formation called for, and was on the point of with- 
 drawing, when the President said to him, "I wish 
 you would tell the Cabinet what action you told me 
 we ought to take with the Spanish ships, now voyag- 
 ing toward our shore." 
 
 Mr. Roosevelt's face flamed with excitement as 
 he promptly declared, "I am glad you asked me that 
 question; I will tell you what / think we ought to do. 
 We ought to send our war ships to meet them on 
 the high seas and sink every one of them." 
 
144 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 "Yes, that is what you told me, but how would 
 you reconcile such action with the comity of nations, 
 under which all countries in a time of peace have 
 equal rights upon the ocean? We are as yet at peace 
 with Spain. War is possible, perhaps probable, but 
 not yet certain." 
 
 To this Roosevelt rejoined, "It makes no differ- 
 ence. There will be war; it is certain. And in a con- 
 troversy of that sort, he who gets in the first blow, 
 gains an immense advantage." 
 
 "Thank you," said the President, and Roosevelt 
 retired. 
 
 When the door closed, the President raised his 
 hands and asked, "Did you ever hear anything like 
 that since you were born?" 
 
 Needless to say, the harsh advice was not fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 This incident was later described in some pub- 
 lication by John D. Long, ex-Secretary of the Navy. 
 His statement caused some excitement. It was pro- 
 tested against, I believe, by Mr. Roosevelt, then 
 President; and Mr. Long, a very obliging man, made 
 some modification or admitted that he had "possibly 
 misunderstood." I have related the facts as they 
 occurred. 
 
 If Mr. Roosevelt, when President, had been 
 faced with a like situation, he, no doubt, with a keen 
 sense of responsibility, would have taken a more 
 conservative view. At least, with men like Elihu 
 Root and John Hay, for whom he had profound 
 respect, as his advisors, he would not have acted upon 
 the impulse to which he gave expression as quoted. 
 
 Another incident, laughable in character, but 
 
Comparison of Two Presidents 145 
 
 nevertheless an illustration of his prompt and vigor- 
 ous methods, may be told. 
 
 The President gave an official dinner at the 
 White House to the Cabinet members and their 
 wives. To this dinner he also invited Vice-President 
 and Mrs. Roosevelt. The party, some twenty in num- 
 ber, was assembled in the Red Room. With Mrs. 
 Roosevelt, the President had led the assembled guests 
 into the room, the others following according to the 
 rule of precedence, and Mrs. McKinley as hostess, 
 brought up in the rear on the arm of the Vice- 
 President. 
 
 The noisy hum of voices filled the room when 
 the butler came to the door, and as Mrs. Mckinley 
 stood near the door with Mr. Roosevelt, he announced 
 in a low voice, "Madam, dinner is served." 
 
 "Oh dear," she said, "How can I get word to 
 the President?" The latter was in the far end of the 
 room. 
 
 The Vice-President knew how to get word to 
 him. In a stentorian voice he shouted, "Mr. Presi- 
 dent." "Yes," came back the more quiet voice of the 
 President, "what is it?" 
 
 "DINNER IS READY," boomed out the voice 
 of Mr. Roosevelt, direct, positive and clear, but not 
 quite conventional in its tone. 
 
 These citations may be regarded as trivial and 
 not worthy of mention; but it is by inadvertencies 
 as much as by great words and deeds, that the com- 
 plexities of our human nature are revealed. 
 
 It is not my purpose to write a history of his 
 administration. That has been done by more able 
 men. 
 
 Personally speaking, my relations to the two 
 
146 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 Presidents, whether official or personal, were agree- 
 able enough; but with the death of McKinley my 
 enthusiasm was gone, and the daily grind of duty 
 grew irksome. So the weeks and months followed 
 one another until the beginning of the New Year 1902. 
 
XXII 
 
 Just prior to this, I had been offered the Presidency 
 of a large financial institution in Chicago, at a 
 compensation more than three times as large as 
 I was allowed by the Government. A similar propo- 
 sition came also from the United States Trust Com- 
 pany of New York. I had already held the position 
 of Secretary of the Treasury for nearly five years, a 
 period longer than the official life of any of my prede- 
 cessors except Albert Gallatin. 
 
 I was now approaching my sixty-sixth year, and 
 I reflected that if I expected again to enter general 
 business life with its higher financial rewards, not 
 much time remained. 
 
 Therefore, after due consideration, I informed 
 President Roosevelt of my desire to surrender my 
 office. He saw the justice of my view, and with kind 
 expressions of regret, consented to my resignation. 
 Whether he was really reluctant to part with me, I 
 am not certain. He knew that, politically speaking, 
 I had no party influence. While there were many 
 equally or better qualified than I and eager for dis- 
 tinction, who stood higher in the political roster of 
 "Who's Who". 
 
 I accepted the proposal from the New York 
 institution, and on the 1st of March, 1902 was in- 
 stalled as its President and took up my life in New 
 York. 
 
 My successor as Secretary was appointed, duly 
 qualified and took my place in the Treasury one 
 month prior to March 1st. Thus between the two 
 
 —147— 
 
148 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 positions, I enjoyed a period of thirty days for rest 
 and recreation. 
 
 I might here close the story of my life in Wash- 
 ington, but before doing so, I must indulge in some 
 recognition of certain persons associated with me in 
 my duties, to whom I owe much for whatever measure 
 of efficiency and success my administration achieved. 
 
 As my private secretary, Frank A. Vanderlip 
 came with me from Chicago. Strong in body, alert 
 in mind, and quite experienced with men and things 
 by virtue of active service in newspaper work, he was 
 well qualified for his important duties. He at once 
 set himself to the study of the Treasury Department 
 in all its divisions and branches of work, and within 
 six months had gained an expert knowledge. A vacan- 
 cy occurred among the three Assistant Secretaries, 
 and at my suggestion, President McKinley appointed 
 him to the place. 
 
 As a successor to Mr. Vanderlip, I chose for 
 my private secretary, Milton E. Ailes, who had come 
 into the Department in the most humble capacity and 
 with the smallest of salaries. He was a product of the 
 common school of Ohio. In Washington he had de- 
 voted his leisure hours to study, entered the George- 
 town University, won his diploma, then studied law 
 and passed an examination which entitled him to 
 practice at the bar. Promotion in the Department en- 
 couraged him to continue in the service, and at the 
 time I refer to, he was one of the highly paid clerks. 
 
 He served me with intelligence, zeal and loyalty 
 as my secretary. Shortly after McKinley had begun 
 his second term, Mr. Vanderlip resigned as Assistant 
 Secretary, to accept a position in a large bank in New 
 York. President McKinley asked me if I wished to 
 
Terminating Career as Secretary of Treasury 149 
 
 nominate some one to fill the vacant place. To this I 
 replied, "The position is to be filled through appoint- 
 ment by the President. It is a pretty good place. The 
 emolument is fixed at $4500.00 per year and many of 
 your friends would be glad to get it. Your power of 
 patronage is rather limited by reason of your second 
 term and you now have the opportunity to reward 
 some one of your political friends." 
 
 "Yes, I know that," he answered, "but your 
 responsibilities are large and if you have some one in 
 mind to whom your preference would be given, him 
 I will appoint." 
 
 I then suggested, "If the Treasury Department 
 were my own business, I would appoint Milton E. 
 Ailes, for he is experienced and efficient, but," I 
 added, "there are political objections. He tells me 
 that in the two presidential elections prior to the last 
 one, he voted for the Democratic nominees. It is true 
 he voted for you at the last election, having, as he 
 now thinks, become politically wiser." 
 
 "What is his age?" asked the President. 
 
 "Thirty-five," I answered, "but I don't see, nor 
 does he, see how he can ask for political favor." 
 
 "No, he cannot, but if he is the man you want, 
 I can forgive his early political mistake if you do. So 
 send me his name and I will send it to the Senate for 
 confirmation. He may be rejected. The Democrats 
 who know what you tell me, may call him a renegade 
 and the Republicans may regard him as a turncoat, 
 but we will take a chance on that." 
 
 I tell these details, partly to show my opinion 
 of Mr. Ailes, but mainly to illustrate the high- mind- 
 edness of President McKinley. 
 
 In due course Mr. Ailes was made Assistant 
 
150 Memoirs of Lyman J, Gage 
 
 Secretary. He fulfilled his duties most creditably, win- 
 ning public recognition and respect; and is now Presi- 
 dent and Manager of the largest bank in Washington. 
 
 To these two, Vanderlip and Ailes, I feel in- 
 debted for their loyal help, and now in my old age, 
 I take pride and satisfaction in their advancement. 
 
 There are others I would like to name, but 
 space forbids. Yet I must indulge myself concerning 
 a very modest, humble man, who, as a watchful pro- 
 tector and helper in my official and domestic life, 
 proved himself to be a loyal, true friend. His name 
 is Richard Green. Born a slave in Virginia, prior to 
 the Civil War, he came to Washington in his youth 
 and obtained employment in the Treasury at a mod- 
 est wage. 
 
 Before taking my departure from Chicago, I 
 wrote to the retiring Secretary, John G. Carlisle, ask- 
 ing him to give me some advice which might be 
 helpful in my new duties. 
 
 He replied, "I do not see how anything I can tell 
 you will be of service, except this: keep Richard 
 Green as your messenger and body servant, and you 
 will not regret it." 
 
 His prophecy was realized. It is now over fifty 
 years since Richard Green entered the service. For 
 most of that time he has served successive Secretaries, 
 always to the satisfaction of each. 
 
 A few weeks ago, his white friends celebrated 
 his fiftieth year of service by presenting him with a 
 beautiful gold watch as a testimonial of affection and 
 esteem. 
 
 I closed my Annual Report to Congress by re- 
 viewing the status of our banking system, and sug- 
 gested what in its main features was afterwards incor- 
 
Terminating Career as Secretary of Treasury 151 
 
 porated in the body of law known as "The Federal 
 Reserve Bank Act". The text of my recommendation 
 follows: 
 
 "Cannot the advantages of such a system be gained 
 in an entirely different form? We justly boast of our 
 political system, which gives liberty and independence 
 to the township and a limited sovereignty to the State, 
 while it confers upon the Federal Government ample 
 powers for a common protection and the general wel- 
 fare. Cannot the principle of federation be applied, 
 under which the banks as indivdual units, preserving 
 their independence of action in local relationship, 
 may yet be united in a great central institution? 
 Formed by some certain percentage of capital con- 
 tributed by the banks themselves, and its management 
 created through the suffrage of all, it would represent 
 the interests of the whole country. With limited pow- 
 ers of control over its membership in the interest of 
 common safety, confined in its dealings to the banks 
 and to the Government, it could become the worthy 
 object of a perfect public confidence. By the concen- 
 tration of unemployed reserves from sections where 
 such reserves were not needed, it could redistribute 
 them in part as loans where most needed, and thus 
 bind together for a common strength and protection 
 the loose unrelated units, in whose separation and 
 isolation, the greatest weakness of our banking sys- 
 tem is now to be found." 
 
 The student of the Federal Reserve Bank will 
 recognize that the features above suggested are the 
 important elements in that great financial institution. 
 
XXIII 
 
 Here I will end this shadowy sketch of my five 
 years in Washington; looked back upon after 
 a quarter of a century, there appears little outstand- 
 ing or worth while. The experiences most impressed 
 on my memory were like life's experiences in general 
 — agreeable, but toned into sombre hues by disap- 
 pointments and regrets. 
 
 I had hoped that by my "reports to Congress", 
 I might so clearly point out the weakness of our 
 banking and currency system as to lead to a reform 
 in it. My efforts to do that were conscientious, per- 
 sistent and consistent. 
 
 Now, years later, in the Federal Reserve Bank, 
 that which I argued for is brought to fruition and 
 I sometimes hope that my labors were not in vain. 
 
 Through misrepresentation and attacks in the 
 opposition press, I gained some notoriety, but a lim- 
 ited fame. The association with McKinley remains a 
 bright and beautiful spot in my interior life. The 
 inspiration of it yet lingers with me. 
 
 But on the whole, it was with small regret that 
 I bade Washington good-bye and took up my new 
 duties in New York. 
 
 The United States Trust Company had enjoyed 
 a long and honorable history. Founded in the early 
 days, and directed in its theories and practices for 
 more than half a century by the mind of one com- 
 manding personality, it had become conservative and 
 old-fashioned. Modern ideas and new methods made 
 small appeal to it, and I soon found that I could 
 
 —152— 
 
Meeting With Leaders of Finance 153 
 
 climb into the wagon and ride, but could do nothing 
 to accelerate its progress or give it new direction. 
 
 One might have also anticipated that the leaders 
 of banking in the great city would have given me at 
 least the appearance of welcome and that the glad 
 hand of fellowship would be extended. But while 
 no hostility appeared, no cordiality was evidenced. 
 In the great metropolitan city one newcomer makes 
 but little impression. He may launch his canoe and 
 enter with it upon the stream whereon all their indi- 
 vidual destinies are embarked, but he will make little 
 impression upon the crowd. 
 
 I have a suspicion too, that I was not in the 
 "good books" of most of the New York bankers. My 
 official efforts to bring about reform in our currency 
 system were not much in favor with them. They pre- 
 ferred the status quo. Understanding the rules of the 
 game as established, they feared disturbing innova- 
 tions. Their general state of mind, or my estimate of 
 it, may be illustrated by the following story: 
 
 While I was Secretary, a convention of Bishops 
 of the Episcopal Church was held in Washington. As 
 a mark of hospitality, John P. Morgan of New York, 
 the financial leader, had hired a fine house in the 
 city and opened it for the entertainment of these 
 distinguished visitors. 
 
 President McKinley also observed the occasion 
 by inviting all the bishops to a banquet. I was hon- 
 ored by an invitation, and at the table found my 
 chair beside that of Mr. Morgan. The next day the 
 President remarked to me with a twinkle in his eye: 
 "I noticed last evening at the dinner, that you were 
 seated next to Mr. Morgan." 
 
 "Yes," I answered, "and I can guess who placed 
 me there." 
 
154 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 "You are right in thinking it was I. The truth 
 is," he added, "Mr. Morgan had a long talk with me 
 over the currency question. His views and yours are 
 not in harmony and I thought to give you an oppor- 
 tunity to talk matters over with him. Did you do so?" 
 
 "No," I replied, "that subject was not referred 
 to. I know his ideas. He told you that we had the best 
 and safest banking and currency system in the world 
 and strongly advised you to turn a deaf ear to any 
 suggestions for so-called reform." 
 
 "That is substantially what he set forth. I placed 
 him at your side so you might change his views if 
 he is wrong." 
 
 "It was a useless experiment. He is a man of 
 remarkable ability and force, and has achieved great 
 financial success, but on this question he is blind, or 
 rather he looks at it from the angle of his own per- 
 sonal interest. By long use and practice, he has learned 
 the modus operandi of things as they are. Of the 
 principles of a sound currency system, which will 
 serve the country as a whole, he is ignorant, nor does 
 he want to know. It is useless to argue with him, 
 especially with the disturbing influences of a dinner 
 to paralyze one's arguments." 
 
 Mr. Morgan is entitled to rank among the 
 world's great men. From comparatively small begin- 
 nings, he rose in the financial world to a position of 
 enormous power and influence. It might be said of 
 him, as it was of Napoleon: "His frown terrified the 
 glance, its magnificence attracted." His approval of 
 corporation plans for obtaining money by the issue 
 and sale of stocks and bonds, became a sine qua non. 
 In that field he grew to be a virtual dictator. 
 
 In the times of crisis, as in 1907, the bankers of 
 
Meeting With Leaders of Finance 155 
 
 the great city looked to him for counsel and leader- 
 ship. Jealous and suspicious of each other, they in- 
 stinctively agreed on him to point the way to some 
 form of mutual co-operation. So far as I know, he 
 endeavored to be just and fair, incidentally mindful, 
 of course, of his own interests. The years from 1898 
 to 1915, a period of unprecedented expansion, gave 
 him his largest opportunities. He had already put 
 over the United States Steel Company, a corporation 
 of unexampled magnitude, and soon became a colos- 
 sus in the world of business. He was the product of 
 his times, with inherent qualities which developed 
 under the force and pressure of surroundings and 
 circumstances. The history of the man, the story of 
 his interior life and material activities, would read 
 like a romance; it would be impossible for me to 
 write it. I note only my impressions as to his person- 
 ality. Such a man must be studied from many angles, 
 for beyond most men, he was a complex. Wise in 
 many ways, he was ignorant in others. An instance 
 of his innocent lack of knowledge is worth relating. 
 While yet in the Treasury Department, I was 
 one day visited by him, which led to a talk, here 
 substantially reported: 
 
 "Are you aware, Mr. Secretary, that the financial 
 situation in Europe is very grave?" 
 
 "Yes. I have observed the reports." 
 "The situation in London is especially trying. 
 If the crisis there is not alleviated, its evil effects will 
 be reflected in our own business affairs. I suggest a 
 course of action which, if you will adopt it, will go 
 far to restore the disturbed equilibrium abroad and 
 so protect our own threatened domestic finances." 
 "What is the suggestion you have to offer?" 
 "Our Government Treasury is overflowing with 
 
156 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 money. You have large sums on deposit with our 
 national banks. Transfer by cables to the Bank of 
 England, twenty millions for your credit there. Of 
 the strength of the Bank of England and the safety 
 of the proposed deposit, there can be no doubt, or if 
 you are fearful, the house of Morgan will guarantee 
 the deposit." 
 
 "No doubt such a re-enforcement to the reserve 
 of the Bank of England would be very helpful to it, 
 but it is impossible for me to act on your suggestion. 
 The laws of Congress control and limit the powers 
 of the Secretary, and to transfer funds from the pub- 
 lic treasury to a foreign bank would be an impeach- 
 able offense. Besides, were I to issue such an order 
 on the Treasurer, he would not obey it, for he too 
 is subject to the law." 
 
 "Well, that may be so," he admitted, "but can- 
 not it be managed indirectly? Is there not a large 
 appropriation for the use of the War Department?" 
 
 "Yes," I replied, "more than one hundred and 
 forty millions of dollars." 
 
 "Why then cannot Secretary Root withdraw 
 twenty millions in one sum, deposit it as I suggest 
 and disburse it from there?" 
 
 "Unfortunately perhaps, the law is again in your 
 way. The Secretary of War cannot make direct with- 
 drawals. He can only approve requisitions made from 
 time to time by the several branches of the service 
 for the support of which Congress has authorized the 
 Treasury to make payments." 
 
 This, of course, was final, but the imperious man 
 seemed to regard my position as perverse and un- 
 reasonable. 
 
 Again, on another occasion, I was obliged to 
 refuse to listen to his friendly intervention in behalf 
 
Meeting With Leaders of Finance 157 
 
 of an employee charged with grievous dereliction of 
 duty. Thus it came about I was a persona non grata 
 in his mind, and while in New York, I received 
 neither favors nor courtesies from him. On the whole, 
 I did not find my life in New York inspiring; it was 
 hardly even congenial. In my official relation to the 
 Trust Company, I did not come much in touch with 
 the commercial banks, nor did I find myself admitted 
 into the inner circles of "high finance". 
 
 Living alone, bereft of my wife, my social re- 
 lations were narrow and limited. Not wholly barred 
 out, I made a few friends, and was occasionally an 
 invited guest in the homes of wealth and refinement. 
 
 I recall now one such occasion when at a dinner, 
 I met for the first and last time that man whose name 
 is known the world over — John D. Rockefeller. 
 Introduced to him by the host, I found myself facing 
 a man of middle life, somewhat stooped in figure. His 
 voice was low. His hands, folded across his stomach, 
 gave him an apologetic manner. He addressed him- 
 self to me by remarking: "Have you noticed, Mr. 
 Gage, how this northern part of the city is being 
 covered by luxurious homes?" 
 
 "Yes," I answered, "it is quite astonishing." 
 
 "It is to me," he responded, "a constant wonder 
 as to where the money comes from." 
 
 I wanted to ask him if he had supposed that he, 
 himself, had it all, but refrained. 
 
 Speaking of the excessive modesty of his de- 
 meanor, reminds me of an anecdote. A gentleman 
 introduced to Mr. Rockefeller a friend, who observed 
 with a curious eye the self-effacing manner of the 
 famous capitalist. A little later the gentleman who 
 had been introduced, remarked to his friend, "At 
 last I have seen one Bible prophecy fulfilled." 
 
158 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 "To which one do you refer?" asked the other. 
 
 "To the one which declares that 'the meek shall 
 inherit the earth'." 
 
 Apropos of Mr. Rockefeller, it was my pleasant 
 fortune to make a week-end visit to the home of his 
 former partner and business associate, Henry M. 
 Flagler. 
 
 During the Sunday over which my visit ex- 
 tended, I drew from Mr. Flagler a consecutive story 
 of the Standard Oil Company, its beginning and 
 history, and the operations which brought millions 
 to its projectors and owners. I hope that story, just 
 as he told it to me, may yet be given to the world. 
 
 Mr. Rockefeller's share in the company's opera- 
 tions brought him into the possession of many mil- 
 lions of dollars, perhaps a thousand million. It was 
 
 a Pactolus stream the dream of Midas coming 
 
 into reality. 
 
 The phenomenon excited in the minds of thous- 
 ands of people, distrust, envy and hatred. He became 
 the object of venomous abuse. He bore it all without 
 complaint or apparent resentment. Living a life of 
 much simplicity, he diverted the golden stream to 
 the conferring of benefits on humanity. 
 
 The story of his benefactions is like a romance. 
 It has been the poor, the humble and the helpless 
 that in the main have reaped the benefits. Through 
 his distributions the power of decimating disease, 
 such as yellow fever, malaria and hook-worm have 
 been robbed of their terrors. The cause of education 
 has been advanced by him as by no other single hand. 
 
 These reminiscences of Mr. Rockefeller awaken 
 vivid recollections of another man whose life and 
 history are hardly less phenomenal. 
 
 Andrew Carnegie left behind him his own bio- 
 
Meeting With Leaders of Finance 159 
 
 graphy. It ought to be abbreviated and made a classic 
 in the public schools of the land. It shows how by 
 the application of industry, frugality and a devotion 
 to simple humble duty, an American boy, if he will, 
 may acquire property, educate himself and rise to 
 dignity ,honor and power. I never had contact in a 
 business way with Mr. Carnegie. I have been a dinner 
 guest in his home and met him socially elsewhere, and 
 on one occasion, both of us addressed an assemblage 
 of seven or eight hundred members of the Economic 
 Club in New York. That calls to mind an incident 
 at which I yet smile. 
 
 At a large meeting in Carnegie Hall, conducted 
 by the Y.M.C.A., Mr. Carnegie and I found ourselves 
 sitting side by side on the platform. There were at 
 least three thousand persons present, and the occa- 
 sion was favorable to the promotion of the financial 
 interest of the "Y". Basket contributions were solic- 
 ited, and in due course a basket bearer passed among 
 us on the stage. We all put our hands in our pockets 
 to bring forth our respective contributions, but evi- 
 dently Mr. Carnegie did not discover the wherewithal 
 in his possession, for after fumbling in his several 
 pockets, he turned to me and whispered, "Lend me 
 a dollar, if you can; I find I'm broke." 
 
 I obliged him, and needless to say, he quite 
 forgot all about it, so he is still my debtor in that 
 amount, plus some years of interest. I do not com- 
 plain; on the contrary I am glad. It gives me a sense 
 of sharing with him in a small way in the three 
 hundred and more millions with which he, before 
 his death, established a permanent endowment, the 
 interest of which is now at the service of humanity. 
 Let him who reads this, peruse Carnegie's autobio- 
 graphy. It will be inspiring. 
 
XXIV 
 
 Concerning the remainder of the four years spent 
 in New York, nothing of interest to the reader 
 can be said. Indeed, as I look back upon that period, 
 little remains well defined in my memory. 
 
 My duties to the Trust Company had become 
 merely perfunctory, and I felt a sense of guilt in 
 drawing the salary to which I was entitled by the 
 contract. How long things would have thus contin- 
 ued, I cannot say. Events or circumstances often deter- 
 mine our acts more effectively than do our own set 
 purposes. So it was with me in resigning my position 
 in New York, and in taking my departure for Cali- 
 fornia. 
 
 The episode I am about to relate was a painful, 
 if determining one. My family had been broken up 
 by death. My wife was no longer with me. Of the 
 four children born to me through my first marriage, 
 only one remained. He had in his earlier years given 
 promise of a useful and honorable future, but as he 
 grew to young manhood, he became the victim of a 
 disease of obsession known as dipsomania. He had 
 married and was the father of two boys. He was noble 
 and generous in nature; loved his wife and children, 
 and me, his father. He loved his friends, of whom he 
 had many. 
 
 In spite of these restraining influences, he occa- 
 sionally gave way to aberrations of conduct, inexplic- 
 able to those whose lives are not invaded by such 
 periodical attacks. 
 
 There were intervals, sometimes protracted, 
 
 —160— 
 
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Son's Tragic Death 161 
 
 when, in full control of himself, he was a joy to his 
 friends, and life wore for him attractive colors. Then 
 at uncertain periods, breaks from sobriety would 
 come. As if seized by some uncontrollable impulse, 
 he would disappear from home and friends. 
 
 Wandering about, driven by the fiend alcohol, 
 he would after some days return to his home ex- 
 hausted and in despair. Gradually he would recover 
 his nervous tone; his courage would come back; and 
 with new and firm purpose he would resume his 
 normal life, which for weeks or months he would 
 pursue — a model of propriety in all ways. I am 
 forcing my pen to set this down for several reasons. 
 It may serve as a warning to some young man against 
 dallying with that dangerous enemy alcohol. Then 
 too, this frank statement is necessary for those who 
 would understand how it was that I terminated ac- 
 tive relations to business and society, and sought 
 obscurity in remote California. 
 
 In January of 1906, I received a telegram from 
 my son from his home near Chicago, asking if he 
 might come to New York to confer with me on a 
 vital matter. Of course I consented, and within three 
 days he came to my apartments in the city. He made 
 a statement in substance as follows: 
 
 "I have just recovered from a protracted debauch. 
 It came on after a long period of immunity. I had 
 hoped that I had made a good escape from the weak- 
 ness which is the cause of my ruin. But I have not 
 escaped, and know that I never will, so I surrender 
 the fight. If you will help me to do it, I will take the 
 first ship for Australia, assume a new name there and 
 drink myself to death as quickly as possible. I have 
 brought disgrace and shame to my little family — 
 
162 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 grief and disappointment to you. I want to end it." 
 
 At the moment he was not quite his normal self. 
 He had not fully recovered from the moral and 
 physical shocks he had lately suffered. At my request, 
 he remained with me as my guest for a week, occupy- 
 ing his mind in visiting the Natural History Muse- 
 um, the Bronx zoo, and other places of interest in 
 the city. Gradually his self-respect was restored and 
 he was able to face the future with some courage and 
 a cheerfulness born of hope. I had assented that the 
 Australian idea might be a good last resort, but that 
 his life was young (he was only thirty-three) , and 
 that: "While there is life, there is hope." 
 
 He returned to his family in Chicago, feeling 
 for the time at least that he had gained a new power 
 of self-control. 
 
 Soon afterward an event occurred which seemed 
 to me like a providential door, opening perhaps to 
 permanent security. In Denver I met two friends, who 
 had recently made an extended visit to San Diego, 
 where they had come into quite intimate touch with 
 an institution calling itself "The Universal Brother- 
 hood and Theosophical Society". With them in Den- 
 ver was a friend of theirs, who had for some years 
 been a devoted member of that society, which was 
 located on a beautiful tract of land known as Point 
 Loma, about eight miles distant from the city of San 
 Diego. 
 
 The society consisted of some one hundred and 
 fifty adult men and women, mostly educated and re- 
 Gved Americans, with a school where a hundred or 
 more children were cared for and taught, not only the 
 principles of Theosophy, but all branches of learning 
 as well. The society was in fact a colony, maintaining 
 
Son's Tragic Death 163 
 
 a community life. All the teaching, in fact all work, 
 was performed by the individual members without 
 fee or reward, but in the spirit of loving service. They 
 called each other "comrades" and were obedient to 
 the rule of their "Leader", Mrs. Katherine Tingley, 
 who ruled by virtue of a free election, held in accord 
 with the highly autocratic feature of their constitu- 
 tion. 
 
 Most of the members had incomes of their own, 
 which of their own volition they contributed to the 
 material support of all, on the general basis of equal- 
 ity as to housing, food, etc. 
 
 As I came to know it afterward, the place itself 
 was an ideal one; on the one side stretched the wide 
 expanse of the Pacific, on the other the broad waters 
 of San Diego Bay, on the farther shores of which 
 reposed the pretty city itself. Beyond, at no great 
 distance, the city was framed by encircling mountains. 
 The Homestead, as it was called, was built on high 
 grounds, some three hundred feet above the tides. 
 
 At the meeting in Denver, Mrs. Tingley, the 
 Leader, was described to me by her admiring com- 
 rades as a woman of remarkable power of mind, 
 whose heart was filled with love for humanity, to the 
 uplift of which she devoted herself. The comrades 
 were said to be of a kindred mind. Simplicity of 
 living, without ostentation, was said to prevail. No 
 intoxicating liquors were used or even allowed. Illus- 
 trating the nobility and loving nature of the Leader, 
 I was told of the rescue work she had performed in 
 previous years among the weak and unfortunate. 
 
 The picture thus presented to my mind, gave 
 rise to a hope that here under these influences and 
 surroundings, with the motherly interest of Mrs. 
 
164 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 Tingley, my son might find freedon from old asso- 
 ciations—new, inspiring ideals and strength to pro- 
 tect himself in hours of depression and possible 
 temptation. 
 
 After much questioning, I presented to these 
 gentlemen the case of my son, and asked whether it 
 could be arranged that he for a time might get the 
 benefits that association in such a community might 
 confer. 
 
 It was their opinion that no place in the world 
 could be compared with it, but they added: "It must 
 be as the Leader says; if you desire to place him with 
 us, and it be his desire to come, we will tell her of 
 your problem, and in due course you will hear from 
 her." 
 
 Soon after my return to New York, a letter from 
 Mrs. Tingley came to me. She expressed a most 
 kind interest in the case. She believed that the influ- 
 ence of Point Loma would be most helpful, perhaps 
 curative, but her institution was in no sense a sana- 
 torium, nor a reformatory. However, there might be 
 a way to arrange the matter. 
 
 If my son could bring with him his oldest boy, 
 a lad of eight or nine years, and place him in the 
 school, that would make a very good excuse for the 
 presence of my son as a visitor. However, prior to an 
 arrangement she would desire a personal conference 
 with both my son and myself, wherein all the ques- 
 tions involved would be considered. 
 
 I laid the matter before my son. He heartily 
 concurred with the plan, and soon he, his boy and I 
 were en route to the Point Loma community. 
 
 We found the outward conditions of the "Home- 
 stead" attractive and beautiful. Mrs. Tingley herself 
 
Son's Tragic Death 165 
 
 was, I judge, about 58 years old, of commanding 
 presence, with remarkable eyes, and of agreeable 
 manners. A talk of half an hour settled the terms for 
 board and tuition of the grandson. My son was to be 
 furnished with a tent exclusively for himself, provided 
 with board and given the general freedom of the 
 place and intimate association with the members of 
 the society, as fully as if he himself were a member 
 thereof. We were introduced to a number of the 
 gentlemen members, who were all cordial and friendly. 
 
 With mutual satisfaction all round and new 
 hope born in my heart, I made the return journey to 
 New York alone. From letters frequently received 
 from my son, as well as an occasional one from the 
 Leader, I learned that he was adapting himself to his 
 new surroundings, not only in a spirit of contentment, 
 but with enthusiasm. He liked everybody and all 
 liked him. He gladly participated in their labors as 
 well as their entertainments. Mrs. Tingley was en- 
 dowed by nature with real dramatic ability, and knew 
 the value of legitimate amusement. Evenings devoted 
 to music, others to theatricals, supplied the social 
 needs. Thus months followed months, bringing to 
 me a growing sense of security and increasing hope- 
 fulness for my son. 
 
 But this dream was rudely shattered; new ele- 
 ments came in to dissipate it. I will not attempt to 
 put the blame or responsibility for it anywhere. I 
 will merely mention facts which, fully understood in 
 all their bearings, might enable me to do that. Early 
 in January, 1906 ,my son's wife, who had remained 
 in her Chicago home, insisted on visiting her hus- 
 band and their son. Thus was formed a triangle — 
 Mrs. Tingley, my son and his wife. Soon bitter denun- 
 
166 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 ciations came from my son concerning that for which 
 he had previously indulged in words of highest praise; 
 there were also complaints from the Leader both by 
 wire and by mail. Complications became more in- 
 volved — impossible to adjust while three thousand 
 miles away. 
 
 I determined then to cut all business connections 
 and go in person to seek a possible solution to the 
 complicated problem. 
 
 It was not much of a sacrifice to leave New York. 
 I had reached my seventieth year, and was reminded 
 that the life limits of nearly all my progenitors had 
 been around that age. A severe attack of sickness, a 
 short time previous, had seemed a prophecy that I 
 myself would not exceed their average span. For 
 more than fifty years, my life had been passed within 
 the limiting walls of office work. I longed for sun- 
 shine and rest. My accumulated capital was appar- 
 ently ample to protect my declining years, and to 
 enable me to lend a helping hand in a moderate way 
 to others as occasion might arise. 
 
 I had sufficiently studied the climate of South- 
 ern California to convince me that it would conduce 
 to comfort and perhaps to peace. All these combined 
 considerations led to my definite removal to Califor- 
 nia, and on April 6th, 1906, I stepped from the train 
 into the station of San Diego. 
 
 I found the situation worse than I had appre- 
 hended. My son had definitely withdrawn himself 
 from that association with which for eight months 
 he had found freedom from the enemy that had so 
 nearly wrecked his life. He and his wife had taken 
 living accommodations not far away, and were only 
 
Son's Tragic Death 167 
 
 awaiting my visit before going elsewhere, either back 
 to Chicago, or to some new locality. 
 
 I had many explanations, both from them and 
 from the Leader, as to this contretemps, but these 
 did not clarify matters, even to my own satisfaction. 
 I was faced with the new situation, and to it I was 
 obliged to conform. Let me hasten with this part of 
 my story, to its tragical climax. 
 
 At my suggestion, my son's wife returned with 
 the boy she had brought with her to their home near 
 Chicago. At my earnest request, my son stayed with 
 me for two months in a bungalow I had rented, quite 
 outside of the Homestead grounds. I had hoped to 
 restore the status quo as between him and the Theo- 
 sophical Society, but these hopes were in vain. At 
 the end of two months, which by stipulation he spent 
 with me, he took his departure for Seattle, where he 
 was resolved to begin again, under new conditions, 
 his struggle with life. For this new contact with the 
 world of affairs, he felt himself competent. For ten 
 months he had lived in perfect sobriety and now felt 
 inwardly strong in the matter of self control. 
 
 Reluctantly I bade him good-bye. He did go to 
 Seattle, where he met good friends; but after some 
 weeks, the young man disappeared. The next news 
 of him was by wire. It reported him as found dead 
 in his room in the modest hotel where he was living. 
 Suicide was the only possible explanation. 
 
 Thus did his pitiful history end. Again, I was 
 alone in a strange land with all business ties broken. 
 The beauty of Point Loma had, however, cast its 
 charm over me, and I determined to spend the re- 
 mainder of my days, not in vain regrets, but rather 
 in constructive thought and action. 
 
168 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 I purchased a site for a home and proceeded to 
 build a house and ornament the surrounding ground. 
 In this occupation I found solace. I bought and drove 
 a "flivver", in which I made almost daily trips to the 
 city. I became a member of two clubs, the University 
 and the Cuyamaca. Visiting them, I met occasionally 
 some of the superior minds of the city and found 
 opportunities for mental exercise. My physical health 
 became. more vigorous. My leisure hours I devoted 
 to reading the best authors, and so far as possible, 
 banished from my mind all sorrows and disappoint- 
 ments. 
 
 My removal to Point Loma had not escaped 
 notice from the Eastern press. Unaware of the real 
 reasons which for the first time I have now made 
 known, conjectures and surmise were indulged in. 
 
 An enterprising reporter, in response no doubt 
 to a call for something sensational, put over the wire 
 a statement that I had become a member of the 
 "Tingley Colony" and was being coached as the 
 future leader to succeed Mrs. Tingley. 
 
 In the occasional interviews with the members 
 of her society and the numerous courtesies extended 
 to me, no hint of a suggestion had ever been advanced 
 that I should join the organization, and it is certain 
 that I have never contemplated such a step. The 
 report above referred to seemed to satisfy the curios- 
 ity of my former friends and was, I believe, generally 
 accepted as true. 
 
 Having built a house, it was natural, if not in- 
 evitable, that I should feel the need of some one to 
 share with me the care of it and be a companion in 
 whatever might develop as to comfort and beauty. 
 
 I did not go about in search of such a person. 
 
Sons Tragic Death 169 
 
 The need seemed to be supplied in the person of an 
 attractive lady with whom circumstance had brought 
 me into contact, and on November 25th, 1909, I was 
 married to Frances Ada Ballou. It was my third mar- 
 riage. Was it justified by the conditions? I think so. 
 
 My health in a general way was strong and vig- 
 orous. My mental reactions to life were, so far as I 
 could judge, normal. So far as appearance went, I 
 was a "good risk" (as the life insurance people would 
 say) for ten or twelve years. 
 
 That looked like a long time to walk alone. After 
 the departure of the wife of my youth, I had indeed 
 pursued a lonely road for thirteen years, and seven 
 years had come and gone since the death of the dear 
 woman who had later cheered my life. 
 
 And so it was that the new wife came into the 
 new home, which she now brightens and adorns. 
 Thirteen years have passed in this happy companion- 
 ship. How many more will be vouchsafed to me is a 
 mere guess. In any case, they cannot be many. 
 
XXV 
 
 Any well told tale must end in a appropriate 
 /V climax. The story I have related lacks that great 
 essential. Borne along on the Stream of Life, with its 
 cross-currents, its occasional shoals, and now and then 
 some threatening rapids, my bark seems at last to have 
 floated into quiet channels, where it will rest until 
 submerged by death in the waters of oblivion. Yes, 
 it is true, not long hence, that hitherto visible craft 
 (my physical self) will disappear from the gaze of 
 my fellows. Will it be into oblivion that self will go 
 — that real self which I have known through all 
 physical changes, that self which has experienced 
 emotions, cherished hopes, been conscious of aspira- 
 tions and known regrets, has been disciplined by 
 trials, acquired toleration and patience; that self 
 which carries memories both sweet and bitter; that 
 ingathering self, which has learned to some extent 
 the wonderful lessons taught by outward nature — 
 that knowledge of the mysterious world in which for 
 fourscore years and more I have been consciously em- 
 bodied? 
 
 Will that self — behind the self which has mani- 
 fested chiefly in the commonplace affairs of life, and 
 whose simple story I have now unfolded — when by 
 physical decay the organs of sensation shall no longer 
 serve that real self, behind the hitherto visible one, 
 indeed sink into oblivion and all that inward gather- 
 ing to be a continuous blank, as complete as if it had 
 never been? Are these questions an impertinence? In 
 the leisure hours of reflection, they haunt the mind 
 
 —170— 
 
Reflections Upon Religion 171 
 
 of all of us who have power to reflect at all. How 
 much more then do they loom with growing signi- 
 ficance as one sees the end of his earthly career ap- 
 proaching! 
 
 In a word, has the climax of my life yet been 
 reached? Does not the real climax await the infinite 
 years wherein the real self, free from fleshly limita- 
 tions, will carry a consciousness enriched or impover- 
 ished by what it has gathered to itself in these passing 
 years? 
 
 Having told so much of what I have so far 
 known, felt and seen, I cannot consent so to end my 
 story. No, I must go on, even if thereby I abandon the 
 relation of facts and indulge in the realm of fancy. 
 In setting forth what follows, I shall be as frank and 
 sincere as possible. 
 
 In my youthful years, some seventy-five years 
 ago, the primitive community in which I lived was 
 differentiated into two main classes— the "pious" and 
 the "ungodly". Those who "believed" were in the 
 first group; those who doubted or raised questions, 
 were known as "atheists" or "infidels". The believers 
 had a narrow but firm body of doctrine. The Scrip- 
 tures were to them the literal word of God. Every 
 word from the first sentence in Genesis to the last one 
 in Revelations was of equal sanctity and could not be 
 disputed. The Bible was the one book embodying the 
 veritable history of creation, the fall of man, the im- 
 manence of God, the legal system through which man 
 could be saved from the consequences of sin by a 
 propitiatory atonement. 
 
 In general terms, it was this I was taught, and 
 which I accepted. It did not occur to me that the 
 
172 Memoirs of Lyman ]. Gage 
 
 truth of it could be challenged, unless by the wicked, 
 perverse and blasphemous. 
 
 The blighting influences of such a body of doc- 
 trine has not yet been entirely removed. The religious 
 bodies which promulgated and defended this "un- 
 adulterated truth" still survive. The church is still 
 with us, and I hope, modified in doctrine, will forever 
 remain. It nourishes in its bosom the spiritual nature 
 of man. It gave him, in spite of its intellectual vag- 
 aries, a vivid conception of the Infinite. It opened his 
 mind to a sense of kinship with infinite power. Under 
 all creeds and rituals, it taught charity and love. In 
 short, it supplied a philosophy of life, which man 
 must have, however crude or barbarous it may be. 
 
 The possession of such a philosophy distinguishes 
 him from all other forms of animate life. But in the 
 philosophy or religious beliefs to which I have refer- 
 red, time and the opening mind of man have brought 
 about immense modifications. The leaders in relig- 
 ious thought and authority have tried with diminish- 
 ing success to preserve the old doctrines in their 
 proforma. The formulas of orthodoxy are dying of 
 inanition. The exploring, inquisitive eye of science 
 has, within fifty years, brought into the common view 
 a vast field of knowledge before undreamed of. 
 
 The facts concerning the evolution of life, from 
 primordial germs to man, have refuted for all time 
 the story of Genesis. That story, understood as poetry, 
 may still quicken the heart of humanity. 
 
 The biographer, or he who presents his own 
 story, may pick and choose, reveal or withhold, and 
 in the end much is left to conjecture, as to the real 
 personality of the chief actor. We all have an outward 
 life made up out of our contact with things and with 
 
Reflections Upon Religion 173 
 
 people. By the observation of our doings and expres- 
 sions, we are judged. 
 
 And yet, it probably is true that in every one 
 of us there is an inward life which does not and can- 
 not find adequate expression. Indeed, that inner life 
 of fears, hopes, impulses, regrets, loves, sympathies, 
 attractions and repulsions, is on the whole a hidden 
 one. "We do not wear our hearts upon our sleeves for 
 daws to peck at." In this innermost self, we stand 
 alone, unrevealed and not understood. It is as true of 
 the young as of the old. Only a few who have put 
 themselves on record have attempted a self -revelation. 
 
 Marcus Aurelius in his Reflections, Amiel in 
 his journal of his spiritual reactions, "The Letters of 
 Seneca", the "Dialogues of Socrates", concerning the 
 true, the beautiful and the good, have pulled aside 
 for us the veil and allowed us to look close into their 
 real being. 
 
 I have indulged in this preamble to excuse my- 
 self for venturing upon a statement relating to my 
 own interior life. I mean, that, my beliefs and doubts, 
 as they have come and gone, while I tried in the 
 growing years to find a permanent and satisfying 
 understanding of the universe and my relation to it. 
 
 In the early, impressionable years, I received 
 without scruple or question the religious belief which 
 my mother herself held. It will save words to refer to 
 it as the orthodox faith, embodying the Mosaic ac- 
 count of creation, the verbal inspiration of the Bible, 
 the fall of man, eternal punishment, a day of judg- 
 ment, the way of redemption by virtue of the shed 
 blood. Acceptance without doubt of these formulae, 
 constituted what was called "Religion". It does not 
 now seem to me to be so. 
 
174 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 Looking into Webster's Unabridged, I find some 
 score or more of definitions of the word religion. 
 The first definition I found there satisfied me better 
 than any that follows it, viz: "A belief binding the 
 spiritual nature of man to a supernatural being, on 
 which he is conscious that he is dependent." The 
 statement presupposes that man possesses a "spiritual" 
 nature. Of that fact, I have no doubt. In my opinion 
 it is more real and true than that he has a physical 
 body. The latter is ephemeral. The spiritual nature 
 does not seem subject to decay. If physical science is 
 correct, the elements of my physical structure have 
 dissolved again and again since youth, while I myself 
 — my spirit — I need no scientist to certify, has gone 
 on unchanged. The experiences of childhood are as 
 vivid in memory as are those of yesterday. All are 
 unified in one thinking, living personal self — myself. 
 
 The simple definition of religion, which I have 
 quoted, is satisfying, because it is freed from all intel- 
 lectual dogma, and yet it can animate the spirit even 
 if the mind be bound to a body of details, erroneous 
 in all their particulars. Therefore, to hold a thought 
 which binds us to a supernatural being, and to be 
 influenced by the thought, is to be religious. So in 
 every creed and sect, however crude their intellectual 
 conception be, religion in its simplest sense may exist. 
 
 Will the reader of this be curious to know what 
 it is that has operated in me, as in thousands of others, 
 to compel the dropping from my belief of the dog- 
 matic doctrines which have so long been the supposed 
 foundation of "evangelical religion"? How is it that 
 one so brought up in the "fear of the Lord" and be- 
 lief in His word (the Bible record) , can drift so far 
 away? 
 
 A member of an Orthodox Church in my early 
 
Reflections Upon Religion 175 
 
 manhood, and a superintendent of its Sunday School, 
 why and how should I have become "apostate"? And 
 in becoming apostate, did I really lose religion? If 
 religion can be defined as Webster's Dictionary de- 
 fines it, viz: "A belief binding the spiritual nature 
 of man to a supernatural being, on which he is con- 
 scious that he is dependent," and if this be a fair, 
 though limited definition, I never did lose it. If at 
 any time during the passing years that belief was thin 
 and vaporous, it has been strengthened and con- 
 firmed by time and experience, so that now I am as 
 conscious of the fact as I am of gravity or the interstel- 
 lar either. No, I contend that religion was not forgot- 
 ten. It was merely the worn out garments which had 
 clothed it, that dropped away. This discarding was 
 accelerated by the reflected thought of other men. 
 
 The teaching carried in the doctrine of evolu- 
 tion destroyed my belief in the Mosaic cosmogony. 
 The scientific discoveries in astronomy, biology and 
 psychology tended to nullify much of the records of 
 the sacred Scriptures. The studious analysis accom- 
 plished by Andrew D. White in his remarkable book, 
 "The Warfare between Science and Religion", rele- 
 gated to their proper place the unreliable data of 
 myth and legend. 
 
 Other books, notably those by Prof. Matthew 
 Arnold of Oxford, England: "Literature and Dogma" 
 and "God and the Bible", opened my thought; and 
 Emerson — that seer of the invisible — stimulated my 
 reactions against orthodoxy. 
 
 Robert Ingersoll never made much impression 
 on my mind; he was too brutal and coarse in his 
 destructiveness. 
 
 Then some forty years ago, I came into contact 
 with that freed soul, David Swing. He had been bred 
 
176 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 and graduated into a Presbyterian minister, but the 
 "light that never was on land and sea" shone upon 
 his spirit. He ceased to preach the accepted doctrines 
 of election and predestination so dear to the heart 
 of that sect. In seeking to win men to his own loftier 
 view concerning man and his Maker, he became ob- 
 noxious to the ultra-conservatives of his church. Ac- 
 cused of heresy, he retired from its ministry; but 
 urged by warm, admiring friends of his own denom- 
 ination, and by others not of his cult, he spoke the 
 truth as he saw it from an independent platform. 
 
 I became a regular member of his congregation. 
 He avoided controversy and had little to say about 
 ecclesiastical doctrines, but used the Scriptures freely 
 in all those parts which show forth the aspiring souls 
 of men, seeking touch with the Infinite. His congre- 
 gation was large, composed of all sorts and conditions 
 of men. No creed bound this body together. Each 
 individual partook as he was able of that spiritual 
 bread which David Swing dispensed. After fifteen 
 years of this noble service he was called away by 
 death. The effect of his teachings may be illustrated 
 by an incident which followed his demise. A mer- 
 chant of my acquaintance, rather coarse and common- 
 place in his mental and spiritual make-up, meeting 
 me soon after Mr. Swing's death, remarked, "Well, 
 Mr. Gage, we have met with a great loss, haven't we?" 
 "You refer, I suppose, to the death of Mr. Swing?" 
 "Yes," he said, "I do," and then continued, "I 
 can't go to these ordinary churches where they preach 
 hell-fire and brimestone. I never could stand 'em. 
 I'm sort of a mean cuss anyway I guess; but some 
 years ago my wife persuaded me to go with her to 
 listen to Dr. Swing, and after that, I never missed a 
 Sunday. I don't know quite what there was about it, 
 
Reflections Upon Religion 177 
 
 but he always gave me an uplift and a desire to be a 
 better man. Now he is gone, I don't know what I will 
 do." 
 
 A short time after Mr. Swing's death, a meeting 
 of the trustees of the society and members of the 
 congregation was called. I dropped into this meeting 
 at a rather late hour, and found that a resolution had 
 been adopted to dissolve the organization. The trus- 
 tees' resignations had been accepted, and the meet- 
 ing was evidently near the point of adjournment, 
 when some one in the room suggested that I be heard 
 from. The chairman graciously appealed to me and 
 I responded, expressing deep regret at the action 
 which had been taken. I would not yield to any one 
 in loving regard for our lost leader. He deserved a 
 fitting memorial but the best monument to his mem- 
 ory would be the perpetuation of his work. While he 
 had been a unique personality, and his exact dupli- 
 cate could not be found, yet there were others on 
 whose shoulders his mantle should be placed — who 
 could, as Dr. Swing had done, inspire and strengthen 
 the moral nature of men. 
 
 A man of financial responsibility, but not noted 
 for "piety" or "spiritual graces," came to his feet as 
 I sat down, and in vigorous words confirmed what I 
 had stated. Some one else arose and moved that all 
 actions taken by the meeting be re-considered, that 
 the organization be maintained and every effort put 
 forth to continue the work of Dr. Swing. The motion 
 was adopted without dissenting vote; the organization 
 was continued, and for more than twenty-five years 
 since, under the leadership of Newell Dwight Hillis 
 and afterwards Frank W. Gunzulas, has ministered 
 in the higher things of the spirit, to thousands of 
 hungry souls. 
 
XXVI 
 
 A fter the death of David Swing, I was happy to 
 /\ come into temporary contact with another in- 
 spiring man, Philips Brooks. 
 
 Most of us, no doubt, have encountered some 
 rare soul, who in a fortunate hour has laid aside the 
 bars of conventionalities and permitted us to enter 
 where the treasures of his thoughts and feelings are 
 hidden from intruding gaze. These meetings remain 
 in our memories as red letter days or hours. 
 
 Such an experience was mine on the two brief 
 occasions when I came in close contact with that 
 brilliant, loving, lovable man, who, as the minister 
 of the Boston Temple, and afterward as Bishop of 
 his diocese, dispensed to a large multitude that spiri- 
 tual food by which the soul of man is truly fed. 
 
 It was in Chicago that I first met him. Some 
 friend was entertaining him in the Chicago Club at 
 dinner. A group of fourteen or eighteen surrounded 
 the table, and I was one of the least distinguished. 
 
 It was my good fortune to be seated next to Mr. 
 Brooks. I had heard him speak from his pulpit in 
 Boston, and had felt the thrill imparted by the beauty 
 of his thought carried on the wings of eloquent ex- 
 pression. 
 
 Now in such close proximity I felt nervous and 
 afraid. That I found to be quite unnecessary, for we 
 were soon speaking with open minds of things ordin- 
 arily held in reserve. He was as simple and sweet as 
 a child, with no sign of condescension, while every 
 word revealed a cultivated mind, ripe with wisdom 
 and rich with understanding. 
 
 —178— 
 
Contact With Philips Brooks 181 
 
 I will not try to quote our talk on that occasion, 
 though the echoes of it were with me long after I 
 took his hand and said "good-night". Some three 
 years later we resumed the talk begun in Chicago. 
 
 The Commercial Clubs of Chicago, St. Louis 
 and Cincinnati had been invited by the Commercial 
 Club of Boston to be their guests for two or three 
 days. Their generous entertainment was climaxed by 
 a great banquet, which a limited number of repre- 
 sentative citizens honored by their presence. 
 
 When I found my seat, I glanced at the card 
 next adjoining, when lo, I read the name of Rev. 
 Philips Brooks! I was delighted, but wondered if my 
 joyful recollection of our previous meeting would 
 find any response in him. 
 
 I was not long in doubt. A moment later he was 
 shown to his seat, and glancing at me, his hand went 
 out with the most cordial greeting and a kind refer- 
 ence to our talk in Chicago. The gulf of time was 
 bridged and we were soon at one again. We began 
 about where we had left off. 
 
 Chicago was my home. I had seen it grow from 
 a city of sixty thousand to one of nearly a million. 
 The great West was growing fast and Chicago was 
 the prominent center into which were gathered, and 
 from which flowed out again, the forces — material, 
 moral, esthetic and spiritual — which would shape 
 the form and substance of the future. 
 
 A vivid picture of this was in my mind. For 
 years David Swing, as an independent preacher, had 
 been a voice gladly heard by all sorts and conditions 
 of men, which everywhere carried the refining, up- 
 lifting influence of the true, the beautiful and the 
 good. 
 
182 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 His voice had been silenced by death and hungry 
 souls were grieved that they would hear it no more. 
 All this pressed upon me, as on this second occasion 
 I again found myself beside that great teacher of 
 beauty and righteousness, Philips Brooks. I could not 
 refrain from exhortation. 
 
 I drew as best I could a picture of the new West, 
 which had not yet found that "Man cannot live by 
 bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out 
 of the mouth of God." 
 
 "To this West," I urged, "you ought to go. Lay 
 aside your cap and gown; hold no longer a brief for 
 any church or party. Be Philips Brooks; speak the 
 truth as it appears to you. The priests and prophets 
 of old were originals; they lived near the heart of 
 God and voiced his sanctions as they perceived them. 
 Do you the same. BE FREE — free to be inconsistent 
 even; tell the people what you think today. If new 
 light comes tomorrow, let that shine. You have the 
 power, the force of mind and the love of men, to 
 shape the lives of thousands, rather than the hundreds 
 you now reach. 
 
 "From the material side you have nothing to 
 fear. Glad hands will hold your hands, and loving 
 hearts will echo back to you the love you give." 
 
 I concluded, "Do you catch the picture I am 
 trying to paint? Does it not make a strong appeal?" 
 
 He pondered for a moment and said slowly, with 
 a tinge of sadness in his voice, "Yes, it is a noble and 
 inviting picture, and great would be the reward of 
 the man who could fill the role you have described, 
 but for me it is too late. For years my lines have gone 
 out to my people here. I am like a tree grown up in 
 the soil where it was planted. Its rootlets have gone 
 
Contact With Philips Brooks 183 
 
 far. From these the tree itself has drawn life and 
 nourishment, and under the wide-spreading branches 
 many find comfort. To uproot and transplant such a 
 tree is a difficult and doubtful experiment, disrupting 
 to the wide surroundings and fatal to the tree itself. 
 No, I must remain where Providence has placed me 
 and forego the inspiring vision you have put before 
 my eyes." 
 
 I never saw Philips Brooks again, but I am still 
 thankful that twice in my life I was privileged to 
 drink of his spirit. 
 
XXVII 
 
 There were other influences which brought me a 
 deepening conviction of the reality of the spirit- 
 ual world, and strengthened my belief in the contin- 
 uance of consciousness or life after death. 
 
 It has been more than forty years since I began 
 to give any attention to the phenomena known as 
 psychic or spiritistic. Prior to that, I had a very con- 
 temptuous opinion of reports of these alleged ''spirit 
 communications". 
 
 But about that time my father, who had reached 
 the age of sixty, had been persuaded to witness "ex- 
 periments", and had been much impressed by what 
 he considered to be evidences of the survival after 
 death. 
 
 He had narrated to me some of his "experiences", 
 which on the face of them, appeared startling, and 
 if one could believe in them, important in their 
 nature. 
 
 However, as I considered all who did receive 
 these so-called communications to be dupes or overly 
 credulous persons, I criticized these so-called evi- 
 dences and pointed out the ways in which, according 
 to my imagination, they could be simulated. I was, 
 in fact, troubled about my father, although he was 
 a man who was careful and wise in his judgments 
 regarding all other matters. 
 
 My criticisms and objections did not serve to 
 convince him of his error; they only silenced him. I 
 finally decided it was my duty to visit the mediums 
 
 —184— 
 
"Spirit Communication" 185 
 
 that he had contacted, and so be better able to con- 
 vince him that he had been deceived. 
 
 He had told me of what he considered to be a 
 remarkable sitting with a psychic known as Mrs. 
 Billings, whose home was on Ogden Avenue, a very 
 respectable street about two miles from the center of 
 Chicago. 
 
 Without intimating to him that I purposed 
 visiting this lady, I asked a gentleman friend to visit 
 the house and make an appointment for me, without 
 mentioning my name. 
 
 The next Sunday afternoon at three o'clock, I 
 rang the door bell at the psychic's house, and ad- 
 dressed the man who opened the door: "I believe I 
 have an appointment here at this hour." 
 
 Referring to a memorandum book, he asked, 
 "Did you give your name when you made the appoint- 
 ment?" 
 
 I replied, "I did not make the appointment. It 
 was made in my behalf, and no name was given." 
 
 "It would so appear; the hour of three o'clock 
 has a dash against it without a name. If you are the 
 gentleman, come in." 
 
 When the door had been closed, the hall in 
 which we stood was in obscurity, being lighted only 
 by a transom. I had been careful to remove from my 
 overcoat, which I hung on the hall rack, every scrap 
 of paper and anything which would serve to reveal 
 my identity. 
 
 At this moment I heard a lady's voice at the head 
 of the stairs: "Let the gentleman come up, dear, to 
 save my coming down." 
 
 Looking up, I saw the outline of a lady at the 
 head of the stairs. I walked up the carpeted stairway 
 
186 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 toward her; my face was in deep shadow. When I had 
 arrived within four or five steps of the top, she turned 
 and said, "Follow me, please," scarcely glancing at me. 
 
 Conducting me into a rear room, lighted by two 
 windows, she pointed out a chair and said, "You take 
 this seat. Do you know we have to sit in the dark?" 
 
 I answered, "I have been told so." 
 
 "I will close the blinds. They are padded and 
 no light can enter the room. I will sit here," she 
 continued, pointing to a chair perhaps four feet op- 
 posite the first one. She closed the blinds and the 
 room was quite dark. She found her way, however, 
 to the chair and sat down in it. Few words were 
 spoken between us, those referring only to the weather. 
 
 A silence then ensued and continued for several 
 minutes. I chuckled inwardly with the feeling that 
 I was absolutely incognito and that there could be 
 "nothing doing" of any pertinency to me or my af- 
 fairs. Soon I heard a loud strident whisper and my 
 name "Lyman" spoken. Gooseflesh stood out all over 
 me. I was so surprised I made no response. Again, 
 the name was called: "Lyman". The voice seemed to 
 be at my left hand. For the third time my name was 
 called, rather more emphatically than before. Then 
 I spoke, saying, "Is it any one desiring to speak with 
 me?" 
 
 The voice rejoined and rather offended me by 
 the simple character of its utterance: "I am Sara" 
 (the name of my deceased wife) . I am very anxious 
 about you; you are smoking too much and working 
 too hard; you must take better care of yourself. Re- 
 member you have to be both father and mother to 
 the children under your care." 
 
 Considerable more than this the voice uttered. 
 
"Spirit Communication" 187 
 
 What I have quoted I remember perfectly; the rest 
 of it is not clear enough in my mind now to quote, 
 except this: "Our two children are here with me, 
 also your mother. They would all like to speak to you. 
 I am now losing strength and cannot say more now." 
 
 This was followed by a short silence when a 
 voice ejaculated: "Papa". The matter spoken by this 
 voice was of a childish nature, hardly worth trying 
 to quote if I could remember it. This voice was 
 followed by another similar childish voice, saying, "I 
 am little Mary," (the name of one of my children 
 who had died in infancy) . Another silence, then a 
 voice quite different in its timbre and emphasis, al- 
 though still a loud whisper, pronounced my name 
 and said, "I am Mother." Among the words she spoke 
 were these which I shall never forget: "You have had 
 a great deal of sorrow and we all deeply sympathize 
 with you, but you are again to be subjected to grief 
 and disappointment, and you must be prepared for 
 it. Fanny, (the name of a living daughter, then nine 
 years old) , is coming over here to join us." 
 
 My mother, in her lifetime, had been one of 
 those persons who are given to taking the dark view 
 of things in general, and it made me indignant that 
 I should be told what seemed most improbable. Nev- 
 ertheless, I was impressed by it, and answered the 
 voice, saying, "No, that is not so. Fanny is perfectly 
 well; she is going to grow up to womanhood and be 
 the comfort of my old age. Why do you indulge in 
 such lugubrious prophecies?" 
 
 The voice answered, "I wish it were not so, but 
 she has an incurable disease and you will not be able 
 to keep her. She ought not to have gone to that wed- 
 ding." 
 
188 Memoirs of Lyman ], Gage 
 
 A few months prior to this seance, my daughter 
 had passed through a severe attack of scarlet fever, 
 from which she had convalesced, and I thought she 
 was perfectly well. About the first time she had gone 
 out, after her convalescence, had been with the lady 
 who kept my house and took care of my children. 
 They went to the wedding of the housekeeper's 
 nephew. Whether the wedding occasion was at all 
 harmful to the child, I do not know. If so, it had not 
 yet become visible to me. 
 
 Of course, this statement made by my mother, 
 (if it were she) , disturbed my mind, in spite of my 
 conviction to the contrary. When I went home I 
 scrutinized my little girl, but saw no trace of illness 
 in her. 
 
 Continued watchful observation, however, soon 
 showed me that she was more languid than formerly. 
 A short, violent exercise would leave her out of breath. 
 This I did not like, and I called in my doctor, asking 
 him to give her a thorough examination. He reported 
 to me with sad countenance: "I am sory to tell you 
 that your little girl has Bright's disease. It seems so 
 terrible that I do not want you to take my diagnosis 
 unconfirmed. I wish you would summon Dr. Bevan 
 from the city, to look her over." 
 
 This I promptly did. He reported in writing, 
 that there was indubitable evidence of degeneration 
 of the kidneys; that it was very dangerous indeed and 
 generally regarded as incurable, but that in view of 
 the youth of the child, it might be overcome. It would 
 require, however, exceeding care and watchfulness; 
 if she were permitted in any way to get a chill, it 
 would induce an acute condition known as nephritis, 
 which would probably take her off very quickly. 
 
"Spirit Communication" 189 
 
 We obeyed the doctor's injunction to the fullest 
 extent possible and two years passed away. Coming 
 home from the city one evening, I was informed that 
 Fanny had a high fever. 
 
 Let me cut this part of the story short. In thirty- 
 six hours she was dead. 
 
 My own experiments carried on in Boston, New 
 York and other cities, enabled me to glimpse phe- 
 nomena that would not let me believe otherwise than 
 that life continues after our souls and bodies separate. 
 My idea of religion is a sure belief in a great omni- 
 potent source of life and intelligence. I would not go 
 further than that in a definition, for a definition 
 sets up limitations. 
 
 We speak at times of "my soul". It is perfectly 
 right, I believe, to speak of "my body", "my eyes", 
 "my heart", but soul is a thing apart, a thing that 
 belongs to the great neverceasing life of the universe, 
 and not to us. I believe that good and evil here on 
 earth, as they are permitted by the body to flourish 
 and work their effects, have also an effect upon the 
 soul that goes on from this existence to another, 
 somewhere else. 
 
 My religion now, the belief that sustains me, 
 has opened a wide and wonderful door for knowing 
 that there is life of the soul after the death of the 
 body. Then I know there can be a great galaxy of 
 future existences, whose beauty we cannot even guess. 
 This belief to me is very satisfactory. I struck the 
 thought quoted below a day or two ago. It purports 
 to be a part of a communication from the late F. W. 
 Hillyers: 
 
 "There is no sadder mistake than to imagine 
 that by mourning for the dead, their happiness is 
 
190 Memoirs of Lyman ]. Gage 
 
 increased. Love they desire, but not lamentation." 
 
 On one occasion, I was in New York with a 
 friend of mine, a lawyer who had come with me from 
 Chicago on a matter of business in which we were 
 both interested. 
 
 We stopped at the St. James Hotel, on Broadway 
 and 25th Street. Arriving in the afternoon, we had an 
 early dinner; then with our cigars lighted, gathered 
 in front of the large window to amuse ourselves in 
 observing the passers-by. It was in the month of 
 August, a period of long summer evenings. 
 
 Most of the theatres were closed for the summer 
 and the newspaper columns offered nothing else at- 
 tractive. Casting around for possible entertainment, 
 I recalled that some months prior to this, a friend 
 in Chicago, who was interested in psychic phenomena, 
 had told me of some experiments he had made in 
 New York. He had given me the card of a man whom 
 he considered "about the best" he had ever seen. Out 
 of politeness I had put the card in my pocketbook, 
 with the remark: "Well, sometime I may visit the 
 gentleman." 
 
 I now looked through my pocketbook and found 
 this card. It bore the name A. H. Phillips with a 
 house number on 27th Street,and the word, "Psychic." 
 Handing the card to my friend, Mr. Schumway, 
 I inquired, "How would you like to see this chap?" 
 
 He replied, "That's one of these spiritualist fel- 
 lows, ain't he— what they call a medium?" 
 
 I answered, "I guess so, I don't know anything 
 about it— what he does, or what his game is. The 
 card was given me some months ago by Higgins, the 
 pork packer of Chicago, who said he was a very re- 
 markable chap." 
 
"Spirit Communication" 191 
 
 Mr. Schumway responded, "I don't take any 
 stock in that kind of thing, but if you want to, go 
 ahead; I'll stay here." 
 
 I replied that I would not go alone, but did not 
 urge him to accompany me. After some hesitation, he 
 said, "Well, it isn't far up there; I'll go with you." 
 
 So we set out together and found the house 
 without difficulty. The young woman who opened 
 the door, informed us, "Mr. Phillips is taking a little 
 walk somewhere, but will be back presently. Will you 
 come in?" 
 
 Entering the house, we were conducted through 
 a hall on the same floor to a rear room of moderate 
 size, decently furnished, with a four-light ceiling 
 chandelier over a round table. 
 
 On our way from the hotel, I had suggested to 
 my friend that we be on our guard against using our 
 names in addressing each other. 
 
 The dusk was beginning to fall, and the maid 
 lighted the chandelier and withdrew from the room. 
 Almost immediately afterwards we heard the night 
 key in the front door lock, and through the hallway 
 came a young man of twenty-seven or eight, who 
 greeted us with: "Good evening, gentlemen." 
 
 I explained that we were casual visitors, and had 
 heard that he had some extraordinary powers; that 
 we wanted nothing in particular but to witness any 
 demonstrations or experiments that he might choose 
 to show us. 
 
 "Very well," he said. "Here are some slips of 
 paper on which you may write such names as you 
 choose, and roll each slip into a hardball. Some of 
 the names you use ought to be those of friends who 
 have entered into spirit life." 
 
192 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 We proceeded to follow his directions and pre- 
 pared pellets as he desired. "Here are two small 
 slates," he continued. "Examine them as much as you 
 please, and put them one on top of the other in the 
 center of the table. I wish you to watch that I do not 
 touch them during our interview. If they should be 
 written upon, I want you to know that I have not 
 touched them." 
 
 We looked the slates over carefully and placed 
 them on the table. The paper pellets with the names, 
 probably twenty-five or thirty in all, were placed to- 
 gether on the table not far from the slates. Mr. Phil- 
 lips, whom I shall henceforth call the medium, sug- 
 gested that we pick up one pellet at a time, holding 
 it for an instant in our fingers. If nothing was heard, 
 we were to put it aside; but if while we were holding 
 a pellet in our fingers, three raps were heard upon the 
 table, we were not to drop the pellet until he should 
 ask us to unroll it and read the name inscribed 
 within. This my friend and I proceeded to do, taking 
 turns in picking up a pellet. 
 
 We had picked up several, when three loud 
 distinct raps were heard upon the table. The medium 
 said, "Hold the pellet." Taking a pencil in his hand 
 he wrote on some paper before him, saying, "I have 
 written the name Emma G. Schumway." My friend 
 unrolled the pellet with his fingers; it was found to 
 bear the name the medium had already written. 
 
 My friend Schumway was apparently quite 
 shocked at this coincidence. He pushed his chair back 
 from the table, and remarked, "I guess I'll go; it's 
 uncanny. I don't like this." 
 
 "Hold on," I said. "Wait a minute." Then address- 
 ing the medium, I asked, "What does this signify?" 
 
Gloria 
 
"Spirit Communication" 193 
 
 He then replied, "It signifies that the spirit of 
 this lady is here and wants to make herself known to 
 the gentleman." 
 
 I then suggested to my friend that he act on the 
 hypothesis that this was possible, and ask questions 
 which he thought would bear upon the identity of 
 the alleged spirit. 
 
 Mr. Schumway appeared to be quite flabber- 
 gasted, and was indisposed to pursue such an inquiry, 
 but finally consented to ask where the person had 
 died. 
 
 With his pencil the medium then wrote C-o-n-n-. 
 "That," said Mr. Schumway, "means Connecticut, I 
 suppose. Connecticut is a large place. Whereabouts 
 in Connecticut?" The medium's hand then wrote 
 "K-i-1-l-i-n-g-l-y," whereupon Schumway remarked, 
 "That is correct. The name is that of my deceased 
 sister. She died in Killingly, but if I myself had an- 
 swered the question, I should have said Danielsonville. 
 After I left my home, Killingly, and went west to 
 Chicago, the name of the post office was changed to 
 Danielsonville. Thereafter, I always addressed my 
 letters to Danielsonville. My sister and some others 
 were indignant at the change of name, and her letters 
 were always headed: Killingly. She would never call 
 it Danielsonville." 
 
 Mr. Schumway did not ask any further questions, 
 which I think he ought to have done, but proceeded 
 to pick up another of the pellets. After picking up 
 several, three raps were again heard, and again the 
 medium on the other side of the table said, "Hold 
 it," and with his pencil wrote "E. Hall" upon the 
 paper before him. Unfolding the pellet in his fingers, 
 Schumway read the name, "E. Hall". 
 
194 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 I asked him if he knew the name. He replied, 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Perhaps," I added, "you'll not be so reluctant 
 to ask him questions." 
 
 "Well," he said, "I'll ask him the same question. 
 "Where did he die?" 
 
 Again the medium wrote on the paper these 
 words: "In the pretty little city of Hartford." 
 
 At this Mr. Schumway exclaimed, striking his 
 hand on the table: "I have heard Ed. Hall use that 
 phrase a hundred times in his life. If any one asked 
 him where he lived, his reply always was: 'In the 
 pretty little city of Hartford'." 
 
 I then suggested that he ask him to give the 
 date of his death. Schumway replied, "I, myself, do 
 not know." 
 
 "All the better," I answered, "You can find out 
 afterwards, can't you?" 
 
 "Oh, yes," he said, "his widow can tell me." 
 
 The answer came in the same manner as before, 
 giving a year, a month, and a day, which Mr. Schum- 
 way could neither confirm nor deny. Sometime after- 
 wards, however, he told me he had learned from the 
 surviving wife that the year, and the month given by 
 the medium were correct, but the day of the month 
 was some four or five days from the date of his death. 
 
 I remarked upon the curious nature of the raps 
 and asked the medium if it was necessary for him to 
 be in touch with the table when these raps were pro- 
 duced. He answered no, and at my suggestion, pushed 
 his chair back from the table to a distance of about 
 three and a half feet. Before doing this, however, he 
 had written upon the paper in front of him the name 
 
"Spirit Communication" 195 
 
 "Henry Miller", and asked, addressing himself to me: 
 "Do you know anybody by the name of Henry Mil- 
 ler? I have his name here." 
 
 I answered: "I know a man named Henry 
 Miller, who is alive, but he has a middle initial." 
 
 "No, this man is not alive, he is a spirit," he 
 answered. "I have an impression you did not know 
 him very well. It is as if in passing by he was handing 
 you his card. Let it go if you do not recall him. You 
 may think of him later." 
 
 "No," I said. "Let us think of him now. If he 
 is Henry Miller and I know him, he can recall him- 
 self to my mind. Where was his home? Can he tell 
 me that?" 
 
 The medium wrote, "Sacramento". 
 
 "What business was he in?" 
 
 "A banker." 
 
 "Yes," I said, "I know that man. I came in con- 
 tact with him for the first and last time some years 
 ago, when he visited a next-door neighbor of mine. 
 How many sons," I asked, "did he leave?" 
 
 "One," was the answer. 
 
 "What business is he in?" 
 
 "In the same business followed by his father." 
 
 I found both answers to be correct. 
 
 The medium then wrote "A. C. Reed", a name 
 that I recognized as a former acquaintance. I ad- 
 dressed three or four questions, as follows: 
 
 "What business was he in?" 
 
 "A banker." 
 
 "Where did he live?" 
 
 "Near the city of Chicago." 
 
 "How many children did he have?" 
 
 "Four; two boys and two girls." 
 
196 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 I did know a son of this A. C. Reed, but knew 
 nothing further of the family. Soon after returning 
 to Chicago, I met the son and asked him how many 
 brothers and sisters he had. His reply confirmed the 
 statement written by the medium. 
 
 I have spoken of the slates that were deposited 
 in the center of the table. While the medium was 
 sitting quite removed from the table as just described, 
 he said, "Listen; the slates are being written on. I 
 catch it quicker than you would. Put your ear down 
 as close as you can to the slates; you can probably 
 hear the writing going on." I did so, and distinctly 
 heard what appeared to be the scratch of writing with 
 a pencil on the slates. At this moment the medium 
 was at least six feet from the slates. The writing con- 
 tinued for several minutes until three raps were 
 heard. The medium said, "That is the signal that 
 they have finished," and then continued, "I asked 
 you in the beginning to watch out that I did not 
 touch the slates. Have I done so?" 
 
 We both answered, "No." 
 
 He said, "I will not touch them now. You take 
 the slates, separate them and read what they contain." 
 
 We drew the slates over to our side of the table, 
 and found both of them written on. The writing was 
 on top of the bottom slate and on the under side of 
 the upper slate, so that to make continuous reading, 
 the slates had to be laid side by side. 
 
 The communication began: "Dear Phil." (That 
 was the name of the gentleman who sat by my side.) 
 I cannot quote the message. It would be unimportant 
 if I could. It bore the signature at the bottom: "Your 
 friend, Ed. Hall." This name Phil had not been 
 
"Spirit Communication?' 197 
 
 spoken, and the name Ed. Hall, signed on the slates, 
 had only appeared on one of the pellets. Therefore, 
 the communication could not have been prepared in 
 advance of our coming. 
 
 During the whole sitting, the medium did not 
 leave the room, nor did any one enter it, and all our 
 observations were under the bright light of a four- 
 jet gas chandelier. 
 
 I have thought of this evening many times, try- 
 ing to unravel the mystery on the theory of fake or 
 fraud. I have been unable to arrive at that solution. 
 Perhaps the reader may be able to solve it satisfac- 
 torily for himself. 
 
 Another interesting experience also occurred in 
 the city of New York, where I met an acquaintance 
 of mine in the lobby of the hotel. He was Ralph 
 Plumb, a man of character, somewhat older than my- 
 self, who had come to New York on a business errand 
 from his city near Chicago. 
 
 Both being from the West, we greeted each other 
 cordially and had a friendly chat. He told me he had 
 an appointment at three o'clock in the afternoon, 
 with a very celebrated psychic or medium by the 
 name of Charles Foster, and inquired if I would like 
 to accompany him. I expressed a willingness to do so, 
 but within an hour he informed me that a telegram 
 just received from the West, made it imperative that 
 he take the one o'clock train for home, and that he 
 had phoned Mr. Foster to cancel the engagement. He 
 expressed the hope that on some other occasion we 
 would be more fortunate. 
 
 After half past two in the afternoon, having 
 finished some matters in Wall Street, I took the Sixth 
 Avenue elevated. Suddenly it occurred to me that I 
 
198 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 might make the visit alone to Mr. Foster. Following 
 that auto-suggestion, I continued on the elevated to 
 30th Street, and found my way to the building and 
 office occupied by Mr. Foster. 
 
 My coming could not have been expected by the 
 medium, and my unheralded appearance must have 
 been in the nature of a surprise to him. I entered his 
 office, and found him sitting upon a divan, engaged 
 in conversation with a lady. I asked him if he could 
 give me a sitting. 
 
 He replied, "Yes, directly. To save time," he 
 added, "you can write on these slips of paper the 
 names of such persons as you may choose." 
 
 "How many?" I asked. 
 
 "As many as you please, twelve or fifteen at 
 least." He returned to his seat on the divan with the 
 lady, while I wrote the names on the slips. 
 
 I invented several names, wrote the names of 
 some living persons I knew, and the names of five 
 deceased persons closely related to me. He had in- 
 structed me that when I had finished writing them 
 I was to fold them up in the form of a taper, such 
 as would be used to light a gas jet. 
 
 Almost immediately the lady left the room, and 
 he sat down at the round table, opposite me, saying, 
 "Will you push over your slips to me?" 
 
 I did so, and he took them one by one, stripping 
 them through his fingers, putting some on the left 
 hand and some on the right. When he had passed each 
 one through his fingers, he pushed five across to me, 
 remarking, "These persons are here, those on the left 
 are not here." 
 
 I thought that by the law of probabilities, some 
 of the five he had pushed over to me carried the 
 
"Spirit Communication" 199 
 
 names of those I had invented or who were still 
 living, and I was curious to know. Quite carefully 
 I opened the slips enough to see the names. It was 
 rather startling to find that these slips carried the 
 names of my five deceased friends. 
 
 I remarked, "You say these persons are here," 
 and taking one which I knew contained my father's 
 name, I questioned, "What can you tell me about 
 this person?" 
 
 Holding the slip in his hand, without apparently 
 looking at it, he said, "This is your father; he wants 
 me to write." Taking a pencil he wrote a few lines 
 
 addressed: "My dear son" there followed words 
 
 of greeting, expressing his satisfaction that I was 
 interested and had made an effort to come in touch 
 with him, but giving no evidence which would iden- 
 tify my father as the communicator. 
 
 The note thus written was signed "E. A. Gage" 
 much after the manner of his signature. Below his 
 name was written that of P. Judson, my uncle, whose 
 name I had written on one of the slips, and strange 
 to say the writing of "P. Judson" was the facsimile 
 of his signature when in life. I carried the note back 
 with me to Chicago to compare it with signatures 
 made by P. Judson on his bank checks, and it was a 
 veritable facsimile. 
 
 I then handed the medium another slip with 
 my deceased wife's name on it. As before, he passed 
 it through his fingers and remarked, "This is a lady, 
 not your mother, but your wife; her father and 
 mother are also with her." 
 
 "That," I said, "is interesting; perhaps she can 
 tell me what business her father was in." 
 
200 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 He answered, "She says he was a doctor, not a 
 minister — a physician." 
 
 "She can probably tell me which of the two, her 
 father or mother, passed out of life first." 
 
 "Her mother," was the answer, also correct. 
 
 "Of what did she die?" I inquired. 
 
 "A cancer," was the response, again truthful. 
 
 "How many sisters did my wife have?" 
 
 "One." 
 
 "Can you tell me the name of that sister?" 
 
 He replied, "Names are arbitrary things, hard 
 to get, but if you will write eight or ten on a piece 
 of paper, I will indicate her name." 
 
 I wrote a dozen feminine names, trying to make 
 regular pauses between them, then pushed the paper 
 over to him. Without a moment's hesitation, he drew 
 his pencil through the name of Emma, which was 
 indeed the correct name of my wife's sister. 
 
 I then inquired, "Can you tell me where this 
 sister Emma lives?" 
 
 "The name of a place has the same disabilities 
 as proper names. If you will write the names of some 
 villages, cities or towns, I may be able to indicate it." 
 
 Beginning with the name Albany, I wrote the 
 names of twenty cities of various sizes stretching to 
 the West as far as Chicago. Among these was Albion. 
 As before, he took the pencil and passed it through 
 Albion, where my wife's sister resided. 
 
 I then asked whether this Sara, my wife, had 
 any of our children with her. 
 
 He answered, "Yes, she has two, a boy and a girl, 
 and she says you have a boy and a girl with you." 
 
 A good deal more passed between the medium 
 and myself, interesting in its nature, but hardly worth 
 
"Spirit Communication" 201 
 
 recording. I had given him no hint as to who I was, 
 or what my relationships were. I had never seen the 
 man before, and am certain he had never looked 
 upon my face. He made no effort to "fish" informa- 
 tion from me. 
 
 Back in my hotel, I had a long, hard "think" 
 over this interview. I was so deeply impressed by it 
 all that I resolved to try an experiment with a lady 
 in Boston, whose name and address I had long car- 
 ried in my pocket, but whom I had never seen. 
 
 With this sole purpose in mind, and without 
 communicating to any human being my intention to 
 make this visit, I took the midnight train, arriving 
 in Boston at seven o'clock next morning. At about 
 half past eight, after breakfast at the Parker House, 
 I started out on my self-imposed mission. 
 
 So anxious was I that no one should have any 
 clue as to whither I was going, that I walked down to 
 Washington Street, and inquired in a drug store if 
 they could indicate a street car that crossed Brookline 
 Street. After riding on the trolley car and walking 
 several blocks, I located the house I desired. 
 
 Ringing the bell, I was admitted by a maid, of 
 whom I enquired for Mrs. White. 
 
 The maid said, "She's not down yet, but will 
 be directly. Take a seat. Have you an appointment 
 with her?" 
 
 "No," I replied, "but I would like to have a 
 sitting with her today." 
 
 At that moment Mrs. White herself appeared. 
 Addressing her, the maid stated, "This gentleman 
 wants a sitting with you today." Taking a book from 
 a near-by stand, she continued, "but your hours are 
 filled up until five o'clock." 
 
202 Memoirs of Lyman J, Gage 
 
 Mrs. White then spoke to me, "I should be glad 
 to make an appointment with you for some other 
 time." 
 
 "No," I answered, "it is now or never. I had a 
 day to spare and came from New York on the mid- 
 night train for this purpose only. I will have to return 
 tonight. You say the hours are all occupied?" 
 
 "Then," I said, "somebody on that list has got 
 to be bought off, coaxed or bluffed into giving me 
 his time, for I haven't come so far to fail in my inten- 
 tion." 
 
 Mrs. White scanned the list of engagements. 
 "You know very well I cannot break my engagements 
 once they are made. There is one chance, however. 
 This is Tuesday. At ten o'clock every Tuesday a lady 
 comes here for a sitting. Possibly you can persuade 
 her to give up her turn. I shall not ask her. If, when 
 she comes, you can persuade her to yield to you, you 
 can take her place. It is now nine o'clock and here 
 is the gentleman with whom I have the first sitting. 
 When he comes out of the adjoining room, if you 
 have succeeded, you can come in and save my coming 
 out again." 
 
 At five minutes before ten, the lady visitor ar- 
 rived. Without telling her who I was, or where I 
 came from, I induced her to yield her hour to me. 
 
 A moment or two after this lady had departed, 
 the gentleman came out of the adjoining room, and 
 I made my entrance. Mrs. White looked up, and see- 
 ing me, laughingly commented, "So you succeeded, 
 did you?" 
 
 I replied, "I generally do when I try." 
 
 "Well," she said, "I hope you have a good sit- 
 ting. Take this chair opposite me." 
 
"Spirit Communication?' 203 
 
 No more words passed between us for a period 
 of two or three minutes, during which she sat with 
 closed eyes, her fingers pressed against her eyeballs; 
 suddenly, with a very marked change in voice, she 
 spoke. The manner of the speech, the general lan- 
 guage used by her, all seemed to indicate as the 
 speaker, not this refined quiet woman, but a talkative 
 person, much younger. 
 
 Her first words were: "Oh, Mr. Man, I'm awfully 
 sorry for you. My! my! how many friends you've got 
 over here on this side. It looks as if you had more 
 over here than on your side, and they all want me 
 to speak to you for them. Well, I guess the oldest 
 one has the first right; that is your father; his name 
 is E-l-i, and he wants me to say ." 
 
 What she did say on his alleged behalf was en- 
 tirely proper and appropriate for him to say, very 
 natural in its general quality, but I did not write it 
 down, so therefore, cannot quote it here. She con- 
 tinued, "A lady here says she was your wife; her 
 name begins with S, next letter a, — she makes me 
 hear it — it is Sara. She has two children with her, a 
 boy and a girl; she says you got two children with 
 you, a boy and a girl. The boy she has with her is 
 older and went into spirit first. He passed out when 
 he was about four years old, a beautiful child." And 
 she described him very acurately. 
 
 "Can you give me the name of this boy?" I asked, 
 
 "Yes, I can almost hear it. It sounds Scotch. 
 There are five letters in it. It isn't 'Scott', but it 
 sounds awful Scotchy. L-o-c-k-e, Locke." 
 
 Then followed words purporting to be spoken 
 by my wife, which I will not attempt to repeat. 
 
 I interjected, "You say that I have two children 
 
204 Memoirs of Lyman f. Gage 
 
 with me, a boy and a girl. Can you tell me the name 
 of the girl I have with me?" 
 
 She answered, "It begins with F— yes it's Fanny." 
 
 "Do you know where my two children are?" 
 
 "Somewhere in the far West," was the answer. 
 
 "Can you find them?" 
 
 "I can if they will take me there, but I'll be 
 gone a few minutes." 
 
 "Well, see what you can tell me about them." 
 
 A few minutes of silence followed, when the 
 medium's voice resumed: "Yes, I've seen them. They 
 are in school; the boys sit on one side of the room and 
 the girls on the other. I've been to your house, too." 
 
 "Well, what did you find?" 
 
 "I found the house, and in the front room there 
 are two ladies now. One I think is the housekeeper, 
 and older; the other is a larger lady I don't know. 
 They sit near a white mantlepiece." 
 
 This, of course, I did not know, and did not 
 wish to waste time on ambiguities. On arriving home, 
 I enquired of my housekeeper whether she had any 
 visitors or callers on Tuesday morning, that being 
 the day of my sitting in Boston. After a moment's 
 thought, she said, "Tuesday morning, a little after 
 nine, your sister came in." 
 
 "Where did you sit?" I asked. 
 
 "In the front room," she answered. 
 
 Of course the time in Chicago is an hour slower 
 than in Boston, and making allowance for this, the 
 time agreed with what the medium had stated. 
 
 Soon after this the medium said, "My time is 
 nearly up; would you like to ask some questions?" 
 
 I answered, "Yes, I would. My father, you said, 
 is here, and his name is Eli. He spoke to me very 
 
"Spirit Communication?' 205 
 
 nicely, but he made no allusion to my brother, in 
 whom he ought to be interested as much as in me. 
 Has he nothing to say concerning him?" 
 
 Instantly the medium clapped both of her hands 
 to the sides of her head, giving a cry of pain. "Oh, 
 my head, my head! Oh, that is your brother that 
 makes my head feel so. He has dark spots on his brain 
 and nerve centers. Your father says he is in some 
 hospital where they are trying to cure him." 
 
 This was true. My brother was suffering from 
 deep melancholia in a sanitarium. I then inquired, 
 "Will my brother recover?" 
 
 She answered, "Your father says no, he will 
 never be any better." 
 
 "Can he judge any better now than he could if 
 he were in the body?" I asked. "No," was the reply, 
 "he says not, but he asked a physician in spirit and 
 that was the opinion of the doctor." 
 
 It is true that my brother recovered from the 
 melancholia attack but soon afterwards was attacked 
 with hemorrhages, which were followed by death. 
 
 I concluded the interview by remarking, "Your 
 revelations are correct, but I cannot see this Sara, my 
 wife, and I want to be certain it is she who is com- 
 municating through you. So I will ask her which of 
 the two girls would be the elder, had both lived until 
 this time, the one with her, or the one with me?" 
 
 Without a moment's hesitation, the medium 
 replied in the same manner of expression as before, 
 "She says it takes a pretty smart father or mother to 
 answer that question." Then, breaking into a loud 
 laugh, she concluded, "That's pretty good — why, 
 they were twins." 
 
 This was indeed true and ended my sitting with 
 Mrs. White. 
 
206 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 "There are black sheep in every flock" is an 
 aphorism that we all see exemplified in the world of 
 men. The fakir, the fraud, the charlatan, are found 
 in every department of life. These are the parasites 
 who find their sustenance by imposing themselves 
 upon the worthy members of society. This is true in 
 every class and all professions. Some of these preda- 
 tory quacks are unmasked, while many remain undis- 
 covered among the doctors, and even the ministers 
 of religion. It ought not then to be surprising if 
 representatives of this unworthy class should appear 
 and prosecute their unholy calling under the appel- 
 lation of physics, mediums, clairvoyants, fortune tel- 
 lers, etc. 
 
 Their name is legion, but their fraudulent oper- 
 ations do not determine the real issues, viz: the reality 
 of an unseen world, the fact of the survival of con- 
 sciousness after physical death, and the possibility of 
 inter-communication between those who still survive 
 and some of those who have gone on. 
 
 However, this imposes on us exceeding care 
 when experimenting in the subtle, delicate field where 
 fraud and trickery may be profitably employed. In 
 my own inquiries and experiments, I have never 
 lost sight of this danger, and in more than one in- 
 stance I have found these nefarious methods em- 
 ployed. 
 
 It is hardly worth while to particularize on 
 instances of such deceits or pretensions, since they 
 furnish no real evidence on the main question of 
 spirit communication. They are purely negative, es- 
 tablishing nothing, reflecting nothing. 
 
 Believing that these elements were absent in the 
 experiences I have quoted, I have noted with meticu- 
 
"Spirit Communication" 207 
 
 lous care the circumstances and conditions under 
 which my experiments were made, hoping thus to 
 present a true and comprehensive picture. 
 
 I am tempted, however, to describe briefly one 
 instance in which pure, unadulterated fraud was the 
 only foundation for certain "manifestations" which 
 won celebrity in the public press and attracted thous- 
 ands of credulous witnesses, impressed with their 
 genuine character, while it sent away many grieved 
 and disgusted observers, shocked and saddened by 
 the obvious duplicity of the participants in the "phe- 
 nomena". 
 
 In an obscure region of Vermont, some miles 
 from the nearest railroad station, this fraudulent 
 game was played. It was in the farm house of the 
 "Eddy boys", their wives and helpers, that the scene 
 was laid. My father had spent several days there 
 attending the performances, and like other visitors, 
 had been much impressed with the apparent good 
 faith and sincerity of the rascally family, whose joint 
 efforts produced the effects witnessed. 
 
 I thought it my duty to "follow the trail" my 
 father had traversed, and thus I was induced, alone 
 and unannounced, to drop off the train one Saturday 
 afternoon and find my way to the house of the Eddy 
 boys, six miles distant. 
 
 A wagon stood waiting at the station to trans- 
 port passengers. At the cost of one dollar I embarked, 
 and an hour later entered the dingy, but roomy house 
 of the Eddys. A motley group of twenty or thirty 
 comprised the visiting guests. 
 
 The seances were held only in the evening in 
 a large room on the floor above, and there we all 
 assembled. I observed that great care was exercised 
 to have all visitors join the group which ascended 
 
208 Memoirs of Lyman }. Gage 
 
 the stairs. None were left below to indulge an intru- 
 sive curiosity as to outward surroundings. The mani- 
 festations were in the form of "materializations". 
 
 Across the width of the room extended a high 
 platform with a wooden balustrade. At one end of 
 the platform, a short staircase descended to the main 
 floor. In front of that some musical members of the 
 Eddy family more or less rendered music during the 
 performance on the platform. The high platform, the 
 protecting rail or balustrade, with the friendly block- 
 ade of the stairs, gave good assurance that no success- 
 ful rush from the floor could be accomplished to 
 interrupt the "program". 
 
 At about the center of the platform had been 
 built a small closet or cabinet, in which one of the 
 Eddys retired and went into a trance. In due course, 
 from this cabinet, forms of all sizes, variously garbed, 
 emerged to the wonder and delight of the onlookers. 
 
 I have not the patience to describe these "mater- 
 ialized forms" in detail. They confirmed my suspicion 
 of the abominable hoax that was being perpetrated, 
 and as early as possible the next morning, I sallied 
 forth with grip in hand, to walk, if necessary to the 
 railroad station. Fortunately a kindly farmer gave 
 me a lift in his wagon, and drove me to Rutland. 
 
 For many, many months that fraud was con- 
 tinued, until an enterprising New York newspaper 
 reporter became a continuous interested visitor, and 
 seizing a convenient occasion, explored the premises. 
 
 His kodak pictures and clear description showed 
 the ingenious methods of ingress and egress to and 
 from the cabinet by which the trickery was accom- 
 plished. 
 
 That ended the "spirit manifestations" at Eddy- 
 vale. 
 
c 
 
XXVIII 
 
 That travel and the experiences incidental 
 thereto, educate one in a general way, none will 
 dispute. It has been my good fortune to enjoy to a 
 moderate degree the pleasure and profit travel brings. 
 
 In giving a summary of such journeyings, I 
 shall relieve the reader from detailed description and 
 almost wholly from any statement of impressions 
 gained. Books of travel are plentiful, and those inter- 
 ested in strange places and new scenes, can find in 
 such books a world of interest and satisfaction of 
 their curiosity. 
 
 At the age of eighteen, I had never been a hun- 
 dred miles from home. A year later I made the long 
 journey to Chicago. From that time on I always went 
 somewhere each year. I have crossed the American 
 continent many times. 
 
 In 1886 I visited Alaska. In 1883, on a vacation 
 of three months, I crossed the Atlantic, made a trip 
 through England, Ireland and Scotland, and a short 
 visit to Paris. In 1894, with my wife as companion, 
 I took the Mediterranean trip, visited Jerusalem, 
 voyaged a short distance up the Nile, got a glimpse 
 of ruined cities and ancient tombs, saw Constanti- 
 nople, spent two days in Athens and a week in Paris. 
 In 1913, I again crossed the Atlantic, spending some 
 time in Rome, Florence and Venice. 
 
 In other years my journeyings were in our own 
 land, really the wonderland of the world. The Yose- 
 mite I visited three times, also the Grand Canyon of 
 the Colorado in Arizona; and I enjoyed a compre- 
 
 —209— 
 
210 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 hensive, though brief trip, through Yellowstone Park. 
 At an early period I went to Salt Lake City, while 
 the Mormons were yet the ruling influence and power. 
 There I had the privilege of an hour's chat with the 
 great Mormon priest and political chief, Brigham 
 Young. He was courteous and kind, telling me briefly 
 of the wanderings of his people from Nauvoo, Illinois, 
 to this, their Promised Land. With eloquent words, 
 he tried to convince me that their peculiar doctrines 
 of polygamy were based on Sacred Scripture. That is 
 about forty years ago, but I still vividly recall that 
 virile, vigorous personality. 
 
 My trips carried me into or through every state 
 in the Union. For a man of limited schooling, these 
 trips were educational and broadened to some extent 
 my knowledge and understanding of things. 
 
 In later years, with no business duties, I visited 
 Cuba, thence to Mexico, in whose capital city I 
 passed a delightful week. 
 
 Perhaps the most worthy of note is my visit to 
 Japan. It so happened in 1919 that I was one of a 
 party of twenty, invited by the Welcome Association 
 of Japan to visit their island and enjoy their hospi- 
 tality. For some fifty-two days we were their honored 
 guests. On April 10th we embarked for the voyage 
 on a Japanese steamer at Seattle. Sometimes after we 
 passed, I heard utterances of the familiar words, 
 "Manhattan", "Martini dry", "Bronx", etc. These 
 were served by a couple of very expert young Japa- 
 nese. One of the gentlemen, raising his glass, muttered 
 the remark: "I now appreciate more than I ever did 
 before the value of those words uttered so emphati- 
 cally by President Wilson when he clamored for the 
 freedom of the seas." 
 
Travels 211 
 
 After reaching our destination, we met a group 
 of men equivalent to our twelve. They were promi- 
 nent in business, politics and finance, including four 
 or five barons. "We have come to talk with you, if 
 we can, as friends and humans," they vouchsafed. 
 "We think we have interests in common. We think 
 we are misunderstood, misapprehended and mis- 
 judged. We want to tell you our story, the source of 
 our grief and sorrow. We come here with our cards 
 facing upward on the table. We will ask you to ask 
 us any questions you have in mind, and we will 
 answer in a spirit of truth and frankness." 
 
 Then came the question of American immigra- 
 tion. They said they are disheartened and unhappy, 
 not because we did not welcome their laborers, but 
 because of what they think is brutal and unjust treat- 
 ment of their laborers in California; and they main- 
 tained very strongly that if we did not wish their 
 laborers to come to the United States it was a very 
 easy thing to come to an understanding. What they 
 objected to was discrimination against them because 
 they are Japanese. The Japanese have a great deal of 
 natural pride and are extremely sensitive, and they 
 believe that they are worthy of the respect of the 
 western races. I believe they are, for in sixty years — 
 that is the period of time elapsed since I was twenty- 
 one years of age — they have transformed Japan. To 
 me, the development of that country is almost mirac- 
 ulous. 
 
 Their problem may, I think, be epitomized thus: 
 "We have strenuously adapted ourselves to the Occi- 
 dental standard. We have tried to make progress in 
 law, politics, education, industry and the rules of 
 business life. We have indeed sometimes made mis- 
 
212 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 takes, but are willing to be corrected. We don't want 
 to be considered an inferior people — we are not. We 
 are worthy of recognition by the Occidental nations. 
 We want friendship, kindness, respect and good will. 
 With that we can do anything; with that we will be 
 open to the highest ideals that the Occidental nation 
 may cherish." 
 
 That is about their attitude. I believe they are 
 sincere. Certainly those gentlemen we questioned 
 exemplify all this. I believe that the time will come 
 when the military power will become subordinate to 
 the civil power; and they have a constitution which 
 could be changed to meet that condition. 
 
 They have universities in each one of the prov- 
 inces and I think they value education as much or 
 more than we do. 
 
 What they want, I think, more than anything 
 else, is a joint high-commission of right-minded men, 
 such as we have in the United States in our political 
 life, and such as they have in their country in their 
 political life — neither of them to have any scheme or 
 propaganda, and both to study relations of mutual 
 interest under the spirit of good will. Not for Japan's 
 exclusive benefit, but for that of China and the 
 world, Japan asks for co-operation with the United 
 States. Why should they not be worthy of it? 
 
 After twenty-one days in Japan, we were em- 
 barked on another Japanese ship and returned in 
 safety to our own home port, San Francisco. 
 
 Both on sea and shore, while their guests, no- 
 thing was omitted to make our visit enjoyable. Din- 
 ners, luncheons, garden parties, excursions to places 
 and cities of interest, followed each other with ever 
 growing profusion and prodigality. We were enter- 
 
Travels 213 
 
 tained in their homes; automobiles and servants 
 galore were at our service, and not a penny in any 
 direction could we pay. 
 
 Why did they do all this for us? Well, that is 
 worth noting. As a part of the first week's program in 
 Tokio, our group met a group from the Welcome 
 Association. These meetings were held in a beautiful 
 hall at 9:30 a. m. and adjourned at 12:30 noon, for 
 six consecutive days, and every hour was both en- 
 joyable and instructive. 
 
 On opposite sides of a long table these repre- 
 sentatives of our respective nationalities met and dis- 
 cussed questions of mutual interest and importance. 
 The gentlemen of Japan were all superior men — 
 superior in education, mind and character. At the 
 beginning they told us: "We have invited you to 
 meet us here, that in this informal way we can talk 
 over all questions which are disturbing to friendly 
 relations between your country and ours. We are 
 quite sure that in many ways we mutually misunder- 
 stand each other. We are here with no ulterior mo- 
 tives. Our hearts are open and we desire to win, if 
 we can, your respect for and confidence in our people. 
 Ask us any questions; we will give you truthful 
 answers." 
 
 And we did ask questions; the Yankees like to 
 do that. 
 
 It would be a pleasure to me to detail at more 
 length the enjoyable incidents of our short stay in 
 Japan. One of our party, Mr. Julian Street, a pictur- 
 esque writer, has published a volume concerning our 
 visit. I cannot refrain from expressing the convictions 
 I gathered as to the real attitude of Japan towards the 
 United States, their purposes and ambitions. 
 
214 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 Reflecting on the growing pressure of popula- 
 tion, the fact that their lands are now cultivated to 
 the very limits of production, that the needs of their 
 people for food exceed the productive power of their 
 land, we can comprehend somewhat of the problem 
 by which they are faced. 
 
 They must either reduce the birth rate, immi- 
 grate into other regions, or following the example of 
 Great Britain, go into manufactures. That is to say, 
 they must produce goods which can be exported 
 abroad in exchange for food commodities and the 
 other necessities of life. 
 
 The influential gentlemen we met fully realized 
 that it is only by developing the activities of manufac- 
 ture and trade that their people can live; and they 
 desire to cultivate amicable relations with the indus- 
 trial and commercial powers of Europe and America. 
 They deserve, I think, our respect and sympathy. 
 Like a stronger brother in the family relations, we 
 should treat them with justice, equity and good-wilL 
 
 ADDENDA 
 
 and so I, Frances Ada Gage, the third 
 
 wife — better known perhaps by my musical nom- 
 de-plume of Gloria Gage — take up my pen to com- 
 plete the unfinished picture of a very remarkable life. 
 
 It was a difficult task to see that Mr. Gage wrote 
 these memoirs. For a very great man, he was in some 
 ways a very simple, humble one, disliking in all ways 
 any self gratification, preferring to live and go his 
 way in a modest, unassuming manner. 
 
 He would continually say, (in answer to my 
 daily repetitions of "Why, oh why, L. J., don't you 
 start today on your memoirs?") "Well, no one will 
 care to read them." 
 
Travels 215 
 
 After much assurance that his intimate family, 
 at least, would treasure his own account of his life, 
 I think his patience gave out, and so that he might 
 not be further coerced, he began the dictation of 
 these memoirs which he left for me to finish. 
 
 Personal reflections are superfluous, so I will 
 only add that which I feel must be of general interest. 
 
 When I married Mr. Gage, my life was a musical 
 one, and I think he greatly enjoyed the many artists, 
 musicians, actors, sculptors and painters whom I 
 brought into his life. As he was a very fine judge of 
 human character and artistic gifts, our home was 
 always filled with young people climbing up fame's 
 difficult ladder. They sat at his feet, as it were, and 
 tried to absorb some of his clear logic. 
 
 Many can turn back their lives' pages in grati- 
 tude for having been permitted to share in his inti- 
 mate home life. 
 
 While the World War was upon us, our guest 
 bungalow was thrown open to the convalescent boys, 
 who were in such physical shape that the camps could 
 not adequately care for them. 
 
 It was at this time that there came to us Kamuela 
 Searle, a sergeant in the famous 144th Field Artillery, 
 lovingly called by all Californians, "The Grizzlies". 
 
 This regiment was a volunteer one, composed 
 of artists, poets, writers and musicians. Kamuela com- 
 bined all the gifts, as he was a painter, sculptor and 
 poet. However, as soon as he had won a lasting place 
 in our hearts, he was sent to France with the 40th 
 Division, while we "carried on" at Point Loma, doing 
 our small bit in taking care of the shattered bodies 
 and lives of those who returned on account of dis- 
 ability. 
 
216 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 It was while Kamuela was in France that Mr. 
 Gage wrote this characteristic letter to him. Kamuela 
 carried it safely through the hard experiences there 
 and brought it back, treasuring it as a valued pos- 
 session. 
 
 "October 30, 1918 
 Dear Kamuela: 
 
 Your letter of September 17th was delivered to us 
 here today. We were all very glad to hear from you, 
 and to learn that at the dating of your letter, you were 
 alive and well. I am trying to show my appreciation 
 of your courtesy in writing, thus promptly responding 
 to it. Of course, I am aware that Mrs. Gage indulges 
 in frequent epistles to you, which if received, no doubt 
 cover all local items. She has told you that you are in 
 the daily thoughts of all of us, and that expressions 
 are made frequently of our hopes for your well being 
 and safe return. I myself echo these expressions with 
 sincerity, not only because of a personal, friendly in- 
 terest, but also because I apprehend that in that per- 
 sonality known to us as Kamuela, there are great 
 possibilities which if preserved and ripened into frui- 
 tion will prove a blessing to you and to those with 
 whom by future association your life may be cast. 
 
 The man in whom such high possibilities exist, 
 rarely if ever realizes them himself, and there is always 
 danger that (forgetful or ignorant of their possession) 
 they may not be properly cherished, therefore dissi- 
 pated or lost. The Laws of Life — physical, moral 
 and spiritual — are inexorable. They are inter-related, 
 and violations in one department may work irretriev- 
 able harm in the others. True it is that we carry our 
 most valuable goods in "earthen vessels" and many 
 are broken by a too rough contact with destructive 
 elements, and the higher values thereby lost. I think 
 that you in your youth understand this through your 
 intuitions, as thoroughly as I perceive it in the un- 
 folding drama of Life I have witnessed during the 
 long years which have been allotted to me. 
 
Travels 21 ? 
 
 Exhortations then are needless and perhaps I ought 
 to apologize for setting out such obvious fundamental 
 truths, so well known to you. But you will, I am sure, 
 indulge me in some general reflections which arise in 
 my mind, as I think of you and of others also who 
 have been so highly endowed. Without imagination 
 and idealism, man is, strictly speaking, of the earth 
 earthy, but if happily he be possessed as you are of 
 these, he must guard against their over exercise thru 
 the rule of his Reason. The latter, properly enlight- 
 ened, is a necessary guide. There is one word which 
 describes a danger to which we are all exposed. That 
 word is "Excess". It applies with equal force in the 
 higher aspirations, and in the lower proclivities. 
 
 I started to write you a letter, but looking over the 
 above, I find I have indulged in a disquisition. I beg 
 you, however, to receive it as an expression of my 
 friendly and fond regard. 
 
 Lyman J. Gage" 
 
 After this frightful war was ended, Kamuela 
 came back to us, and was a member of our family 
 for about five years. Mr. Gage loved him as a son. 
 Kamuela was a mystic with a flaming soul of such 
 beauty and genius that Mr. Gage often said, "Kamu- 
 ela almost wins me to the belief in the doctrine of 
 re-incarnation. For without any instruction he evolves 
 masterpieces, and how can such a variety of talents 
 and genius have been acquired in his short span on 
 this earth?" 
 
 He worked feverishly those five years after the 
 war. His astonishing genius would daily place at our 
 feet a tribute of gratitude in some form, perhaps a 
 poem, a statue of rare beauty and inspiration, or 
 some lovely pastel picture, and at night by the fire- 
 side Mr. Gage would delve deep into his inmost 
 thoughts. Many and long were their talks of the 
 
218 Memoirs of Lyman ]. Gage 
 
 Invisible World, and its hosts of waiting messengers, 
 the world to which Kamuela was so soon to go, as a 
 rapid-eating cancer developed on the spleen, caused 
 by an injury in France. 
 
 I mention this life because of Mr. Gage's writ- 
 ten comment at the time he left us. This was to have 
 been printed along with many others into a little 
 memorial. It shows Mr. Gage's reflections on Death, 
 which I here insert: 
 
 SAMUEL (KAMUELA) C. SEARLE 
 
 An Appreciation 
 
 Blessed in birth by a parentage of high quality, he 
 was one of ten brothers and sisters, all of whom 
 reached a perfect physical maturity. Six years ago, he 
 himself represented the highest type of physical man- 
 hood. 
 
 A prophecy of a long and active life for him was 
 obviously certain to be realized, but "how vain are the 
 hopes of man." 
 
 In the flush of his vigorous youth, he volunteered 
 as a private soldier and went to the battle front in 
 France to resist the imperial power of Germany. 
 
 In that service he no doubt contracted the insidious 
 germs that destroyed him. 
 
 "Born — , 1891, Died February 14, 1924." 
 
 Such a brief epitaph might be so begun and so 
 ended, but it would utterly fail to describe that 
 unique personality whom we knew as Kamuela. I 
 think of his untimely taking off as a tragedy in human 
 life. A tragedy, we are told, is "a catastrophe which 
 excites in the minds of the beholders, feelings of 
 pity and awe." These are the sentiments which deeply 
 stir the emotions of those who knew him as they 
 consider his brief life and its tragic end. The 
 words I here write and those which may follow from 
 
Travels 219 
 
 those who loved him most, constitute a memorial urn 
 into which we, with common accord, pour our tears 
 of sorrow and regret. It was my good fortune to know 
 him in close, intimate touch, and yet he remained to 
 the end a human mystery, not fully solved. His per- 
 sonality — the latent powers within him, never rip- 
 ened into full and adequate expression. 
 
 Born into life under commonplace surroundings, 
 he was obliged while yet a boy to face the world in 
 its roughest contacts. With much that was sordid, 
 coarse and vulgar, he was by force of circumstances 
 associated, yet in his subconscious spirit, the springs 
 of pure and noble aspirations were never quenched. 
 
 Handicapped by lack of an adequate education, 
 he came to feel deeply such impoverishment. Per- 
 ceiving in himself the germs of a lofty idealism, he 
 lent himself to the higher vision and cast aside the 
 coarse garment that had clad his grosser physical 
 being, clothing his unfolding spirit with garments 
 woven in the loom of the true, the beautiful and the 
 good. As the traveller across a barren land thirsts for 
 water to refresh his body, so this young man reached 
 up to quaff celestial waters to quicken his spirit. 
 
 If one could fully accept the metaphysical doc- 
 trine of re-incarnation, an easy explanation of Kamu- 
 ela would lie in conceiving of him as some ancient 
 spirit re-embodied in the flesh. Hampered by a new 
 environment, restricted by the limitations and inade- 
 quacies of its earthly tabernacle, its full expression 
 was impossible. 
 
 Nevertheless, now and again it was able to throw 
 off these fetters and exhibit a spirit which seemed to 
 show forth knowledge and wisdom not acquired in 
 the brief earthly life of thirty-odd years. 
 
220 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 His judgments were intuitive, not the result of 
 dry reasoning. His gifts did not appear to be derived 
 from study or experience. 
 
 He was imbued with the instincts and tastes of 
 the artist. Without instruction, he displayed the facil- 
 ity of one long trained. He was — potentially — a 
 sculptor, a painter, a poet. 
 
 Undisciplined in his labors by scholastic train- 
 ing, the works he created were in conformity with 
 the highest demands of true art. Yet he never nattered 
 himself that his powers had reached fruition. 
 
 Distrustful of himself, as measured by the work 
 of the great, he studied with untiring avidity — the 
 secret of power and charm held by the masters of 
 art, whether ancient or modern. 
 
 History, science, art, philosophy, challenged his 
 thought and excited his enthusiastic study. 
 
 "I have wasted time," he declared, "but in ten 
 years I shall learn." 
 
 This bright dream has failed him. In the halls 
 of earth's famous ones, his name will not be written. 
 To us who knew and loved him, it will remain in- 
 scribed upon the tablets of our memory. 
 
 Deeply grieved, we shall think of his life as but 
 the "prelude to that unknown song whose sad initial 
 note is tolled in Death." 
 
 In 1922 a rare soul, a boy baby, came into our 
 lives. It is to this child Mr. Gage owed a great joy 
 and interest during the last five years of his life. 
 
 This child seemed to absorb him completely as 
 the little one grew in beauty and intelligence. Its 
 quick response and evident affection for him, melted 
 and filled his heart with tenderness. 
 
 The daily routine of Mr. Gage's life at Point 
 
Travels 221 
 
 Loma knew no change. He, and everybody else, arose 
 at seven-thirty (as our rising bell rang then) , for he 
 would call each member of the family to do likewise. 
 
 Punctuality was a law, which had to be obeyed 
 by all of us, unless actual illness made it impossible 
 for such an early appearance at the breakfast table 
 by any one of our numerous household. If by chance 
 we were late, his pet expression was: "Well, this is 
 pretty poor housekeeping, Lazy Bones and Slow Poke." 
 This would apply to whomever was late. 
 
 After breakfast his papers and letters were read 
 immediately, always in the same chair. This accom- 
 plished, he would walk to the garage, take out an 
 Essex roadster which Kamuela had owned and left to 
 him, and drive to the Cuyamaca Club, of which he 
 was a member. There he read all the current maga- 
 zines, chatted with his friends, and had luncheon with 
 a certain group each day, Colonel Milton McRae, 
 John H. McCorkle, Richard C. Gunning, M. J. Per- 
 rin, Eugene Daney, Sr., Geo. M. Hawley and Willet 
 S. Dorland. 
 
 I believe they called themselves "Knights of the 
 Round Table". They always spoke of him as their 
 Chancellor. He was very much interested in each one 
 and enjoyed discussions upon all subjects with them. 
 
 At five he would drive the eight miles back from 
 San Diego. For years this was his invariable day's 
 program unless some occasion required him to go 
 away for a few days' trip somewhere on business or 
 pleasure. 
 
 Returning at precisely five-thirty each afternoon, 
 he would take Junior, the child, for a short drive, 
 then would seat himself in his own particular chair 
 and read or converse with us, retiring exactly at ten, 
 
222 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 unless some very good play or concert was offered in 
 San Diego, to which he would take his women-folks, 
 as he called us. 
 
 The "women-folks" usually consisted of my 
 mother, Helene Richards, my adopted sister, and my- 
 self. His life was as placid and serene as the view of 
 the bay and distant mountains from our Point Loma 
 home. 
 
 He was justly proud of his selection of a perma- 
 nent residence, as he greatly admired this marvelous 
 expanse of ocean, bay, city and mountains spread in 
 an ever varying colored panorama before us. 
 
 With each succeeding year of Junior's life, he was 
 photographed with him, and his interest grew greater 
 as did the sweet baby loyalty and love of the child for 
 him. When Junior was but three years old, scarcely 
 able to talk plainly, Mr. Gage came down one morn- 
 ing with his over-night bag packed to go to Los 
 Angeles. Instantly the little fellow grabbed the bag 
 and said, "It's too hebby for oo — I carry." Then with 
 his chubby little arms he tugged it laboriously to the 
 garage. Mr. Gage turned to me with tears in his eyes 
 and said, "The dear little rooster. Such thoughtful- 
 ness is rare in a baby." 
 
 One year before his death, in May, 1925, he 
 came home one evening very white, very cold, and I 
 thought very ill. He never complained, being of the 
 Spartan type; and having a fine constitution, he glor- 
 ied in his unfailing health. However, on this evening 
 I noticed symptoms which alarmed me. He would 
 not permit me, with his knowledge, to call a physi- 
 cian; but the next day he was feverish and hoarse. 
 So, quite unknown to him, I summoned his friend, 
 Dr. E. H. Crabtree, explaining that he must come 
 
Travels 223 
 
 as if on a friendly call. He did, and while here in- 
 sisted upon Mr. Gage going to bed. 
 
 It was a difficult three weeks of pneumonia. He 
 would not tolerate a nurse and my adopted sister and 
 I did all the nursing. It was almost impossible then 
 to hold his brilliant intellect in his tired, worn out 
 body. During his illness he wrote this letter to his 
 colleagues of the Round Table. I think it shows 
 clearly that even in the Shadows of Death, his ana- 
 lytical mind was groping. 
 
 FROM THE CHANCELLOR 
 
 TO 
 
 THE BOYS 
 
 "Lying in bed, I am half awake, between a doze and 
 wakefulness; my mind has wandered at its own sweet 
 will without any particular direction in which it 
 should go. Some of these wandering thoughts I am 
 jotting down here, partly to see how weak and foolish 
 they may read to me when I may be in a more com- 
 bative state of mind. 
 
 "The particular field which my mind traverses re- 
 lates just now to that little group with whom it has 
 been such a pleasure and satisfaction to come into 
 daily, or at least frequent contact around the lunch- 
 eon table at the Club. 
 
 "I see, as it were, at my right hand the calm, placid, 
 conservative Daney, who, without any "retainer", has 
 quite unconsciously dropped words of wisdom or inci- 
 dental expressions of good will as we spoke of things 
 among us, near or far or remote. It is a satisfaction to 
 me as I lie here to reach out with an invisible touch 
 of my hand to his hand. 
 
 "And then comes the Major, who, never far away 
 from his shield of cynicism, has quite inadvertently to 
 himself opened the door through which I could catch 
 glimpses of that inner self of him which has kept him 
 fresh and sweet in spite of the hard contacts of life. 
 
224 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 I know by indubitable signs that his spirit in all good 
 directions is responsive to my own. 
 
 "And then comes Gunning, who has embodied in 
 himself, through many years of experiences and vicis- 
 situde, the fruits of worldly contacts diversified, which 
 are understood by a few and not fully by himself. He 
 is a man who might have been a hard, rough person- 
 ality. Though we are essentially different in our reli- 
 gious philosophy, we are really one, I believe, in our 
 respective loyalties to the higher spirit we cherish. 
 
 "Then I can see in my mind's eye McRae, whom it 
 has been and is a delight to know. He has gathered 
 near and far good fruits and is now enriched by them 
 — the result of a mind seeking harmonious relation 
 to the Great Universe of Life, material and spiritual. 
 
 "There is McCorkle on my left. A strong person- 
 ality whom it has been and is a blessing to know. 
 
 "There is our friend Dorland sitting opposite me 
 with an eye and an ear watchfully attentive to what 
 goes on — fond of quoting, the best he can, excerpts 
 of Biblical lore relating to the major and minor 
 prophets such as Nehimiah — Isaiah — and any others 
 that he knows, or thinks he knows about. A good 
 fellow is Dorland with a jolly temperament which 
 sort of keeps things alive and vital around him. 
 
 "Take this bunch altogether, there is a very great 
 satisfaction to let my mind wander around 'em in 
 pleasant recollections of things that have been said 
 or may have happened, or which, please God, may 
 hereafter be said or may happen as we may perchance 
 meet in a pleasant companionship around the lunch- 
 eon board. Or, if not here, then perhaps in some new 
 and not well understood condition yet to be experi- 
 enced. 
 
 "There are others, but it would tire me too much 
 to speak of them just now. I am thinking how many 
 good and beautiful things there are in Life, but stand- 
 ing on this narrow isthmus which divides two Eterni- 
 ties, there seems to me to be nothing more beautiful 
 than a soul seeking to enshrine itself in the spirit of 
 integrity and good will; and I can see that within the 
 
Travels 225 
 
 thought of each of those that I have named there is 
 an internal desire to attain the beautiful thing." 
 
 Lyman J. Gage 
 
 During his illness, he seemed very grateful for 
 our day and night services, and later said, "You've 
 pulled me through this, but I'll not live to survive 
 another such attack, in spite of all your care." 
 
 His recovery was continuous and rapid; when 
 his birthday came he was apparently in better health 
 than usual. So on June 28, 1926, we celebrated his 
 ninetieth birthday. For weeks previous we had made 
 our plans for an event which would be a surprise and 
 unforgettable memory to all his friends. 
 
 Mrs. Ed. Pierce, the charming daughter of his 
 second wife, came out from Evanston, Illinois. His 
 grandson, Lyman J. Gage, II, came down from Holly- 
 wood. Belle Phillipson Grooch and her husband, 
 Lieut. W. S. Grooch, a naval aviator, newly arrived 
 from Pensacola, Florida, and Frank A. Vanderlip, 
 former President of the National City Bank of New 
 York and a world figure of great prominence, were 
 the out-of-town guests. 
 
 His particular friends on this occasion were 
 given the pleasure of adding their rhetorical appre- 
 ciation of him. 
 
 He arose early that day and posed with Junior 
 and me for photographs; then he drove his car into 
 town, for the last time. This, to him, was quite a 
 tragedy, as he enjoyed driving. He had said for years: 
 "I'll drive until I'm ninety and then I'll stop." 
 
 Mr. Gage gave Junior a little automobile for his 
 birthday and they had their pictures taken with Jun- 
 ior offering to race him. He joked and played with 
 
226 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 Junior and then drove to the Club where the Round 
 Table Knights gave him a luncheon. 
 
 Among the many letters of congratulations from 
 friends on his ninetieth birthday, I have chosen the 
 one from the Round Table, which follows with his 
 answer: 
 
 San Diego, California, 
 June 28th, 1926. 
 Hon. Lyman J. Gage, 
 
 CITY. 
 Venerable and beloved friend: — 
 
 "This, the ninetieth anniversary of your birth fur- 
 nishes the occasion, and gives to that coterie of con- 
 genial souls over which you, as Chancellor, daily 
 preside, the opportunity to say to you in writing what 
 they, individually and collectively, have often ex- 
 pressed. 
 
 "Those of us who have, for several years, been so 
 fortunate as to have your companionship at our noon- 
 day luncheons at the Cuyamaca Club, esteem it a rare 
 privilege to have been permitted to have the benefit 
 of your wide and ripe experience and sound counsel 
 in our daily discussions, which have covered every 
 field of human thought, — religious, legal, medical, 
 economic, philosophic, historic, psychic, and in fact 
 every subject from the discovery of the North Pole to 
 the discovery of Aimee Semple McPherson. 
 
 "Sometimes venerable years bring with them a testy 
 sourness on the world, and a feeling of distrust in 
 human nature. In your case, however, the absence of 
 these is marked. On the contrary your long, wide and 
 varied contact with the world in all its phases of 
 laughter and tears, of joys and sorrows, of comedy and 
 tragedy, have added kindness to your poise, charity 
 to your judgment, mercy to your conclusions, and a 
 sweetness to your life which have been, and are, an 
 inspiration. 
 
 "An all-wise Providence has been unusually kind 
 to you, a kindness, however, which should be, and is, 
 
Travels 227 
 
 the reward of a useful and spotless life, whose basis 
 is nobility of character. Not only have you been al- 
 lotted years far in excess of those of the average man, 
 but during all of your years of maturity you have 
 posessed a keen, well balanced, analytical and unim- 
 paired intellect and a philosophical mind, which has 
 enabled you to see, appreciate and enjoy the worth- 
 while pleasures of this world, and to share them with 
 those who were fortunate in having daily communica- 
 tion with you. 
 
 "May we be permitted to express our hope that these 
 pleasures will continue to be yours for years to come. 
 No one realizes better than you that after all is said 
 and done, the greatest reward a man can have at the 
 end of life's fitful journey is the consciousness that he 
 has well performed the duty which fate assigned to 
 him and justly won and retained the respect, esteem 
 and appreciation of his fellow men. 
 
 "Wealth, power and position are ephemeral, and 
 eventually may not mean much, but the monument 
 one has erected in the heart of those who really knew 
 him is enduring. 
 
 "A life that is pure, gentle and sweet; that is actu- 
 ated by high purposes, cannot fail to be reflected in 
 the lives with which it comes in contact. Such a life 
 is a benediction. To such a one as you, who possessed 
 these many blessings, well worth a lifetime of effort 
 to acquire, when the final summons comes, well may 
 you, by an unfaltering trust, approach the abundant 
 life of the hereafter. 
 
 'Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
 
 About him and lies down to pleasant dreams.' 
 
 "We offer our most hearty congratulations on your 
 attaining the remarkable and select rank of a non- 
 agenarian. It is not from the standard of time alone, 
 however, that we count your years, for we are told: 
 
 'We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths: 
 
 In feelings, not in figures on a dial. 
 
 We should count time by heart throbs, 
 
 He most lives 
 
 Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.' 
 
228 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 "So that by this token we may also measure, in 
 time and in achievements, the expanse of your remark- 
 able life. 
 
 "That God in His mercy and wisdom may permit 
 us to have here your companionship for many years 
 to come, that you may retain your health and splendid 
 mentality, and finally that life's richest rewards may 
 abide with you always, is the hope, the wish, and the 
 prayer of your sincere friends and loyal subjects of 
 the lunch table." 
 
 John H. McCorkle 
 Milton A. McRae 
 Richard C. Gunning 
 M. J. Perrin 
 Eugene Daney 
 Geo. M. Hawley 
 
 WlLLET S. DORLAND 
 
 July 2nd, 1926 
 To Messrs. John H. McCorkle, 
 Milton A. McRae, 
 Richard Gunning, 
 M. J. Perrin, 
 Eugene Daney, 
 Geo. M. Hawley, and 
 Willett S. Dorland. 
 Friends of the Round Table: — 
 
 "How can one properly respond to a birthday greet- 
 ing, such as you have accorded to me in friendly recog- 
 nition of my ninetieth anniversary? 
 
 "That you should cherish the feelings you express, 
 does not puff me up with vanity. It operates rather 
 to make me ashamed that I do not better deserve your 
 high eulogies. 
 
 "It is an old saying that 'Familiarity breeds con- 
 tempt'. It's a harsh statement but contains an element 
 of truth, for a close daily association reveals to the 
 watchful observer the weaknesses which fallible human 
 nature carries. 
 
 "It therefore amazes me, while it fills me with joy, 
 that after these years of daily contact you should feel 
 
Travels 229 
 
 justified in paying such a high tribute to my person- 
 ality and character. I would almost believe your ex- 
 pressions to be but a beautiful dream of mine, from 
 which I will awaken to find it only a dream. 
 
 "But here you are, each individual of you, down in 
 black and white, in pen and ink, irrevocably commit- 
 ted to what you declare. If you were men of quick 
 emotions, given to impulsive action, the value of your 
 expression would not be so great. But you are far from 
 that. Experience with life and men has properly made 
 you cautious and conservative. 
 
 "Consider then my sense of gratitude in holding at 
 the highest value the declaration in which you indulge. 
 I shall preserve this written document as a comfort 
 to my declining years, and leaving it behind me, 
 transmit it to those who come after me as a legacy 
 worth more than bars of silver or ingots of gold. 
 
 "May the future be kind to each of you. May our 
 association together be fruitful in things worth while. 
 
 "The hours which I have passed with you have 
 brought much to me, more perhaps than has any other 
 group of men, with whom kindly fate has brought me 
 into contact. 
 
 "So let us go on together, in mutual fellowship and 
 good will, each learning from the other the things 
 which give value to life." 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 Lyman J. Gage 
 
 His old friend, Frank A. Vanderlip, of whom 
 he was very, very fond, was present, as were others 
 named in the picture. Mr. Gage always felt a great 
 sense of gratification and pleasure in the intimate 
 friendship formed in Washington which lasted until 
 Mr. Gage's death. They had their little jokes, and 
 their correspondence was most interesting. I insert 
 a letter Mr. Gage wrote to Mr. Vanderlip on an 
 amusing occasion. It always pleased Mr. Gage to 
 know that Mr. Vanderlip had fulfilled the high prom- 
 
230 Memoirs of Lyman }. Gage 
 
 ise of brains and ability he had seen in him years ago, 
 and that he had become a well known banker and 
 world power. 
 
 Point Loma, California, 
 October 2nd, 1923. 
 Dear Frank: — 
 
 "I call you 'Frank' to show you that I wish to be 
 kindly and considerate in the painful matter whereof 
 I am obliged to write. It is a sad tale of an overcoat, 
 and there is money in it, but I will not expose you to 
 the public, as I have known you too long to do that. 
 
 "But let me begin. When I visited you at Palos 
 Verdes some weeks ago, it never entered my head that 
 you would 'short change' me on overcoats. Perhaps 
 you did not intend it. It does not look as if you did 
 because the overcoat which was worked off on me had 
 in it, it now seems, quite a decent pair of gloves and 
 a small purse containing a five dollar bill and some 
 small change, and you are too good a business man to 
 throw those items in, if it was of set purpose you 
 made the swap of overcoats with me. Besides, there 
 was very small value in my overcoat which was re- 
 tained at Palos Verdes, and a superior value in the 
 one which in my innocence I brought away. 
 
 "Some time has elapsed since this occurrence took 
 place, but there is an old adage that 'murder will out'. 
 It is now out! 
 
 "For weeks, after discovering in one of the pockets 
 of what I supposed was my overcoat, the purse and 
 contents in question, I have been with consistent hon- 
 esty trying to find the owner thereof. My theory was 
 that some one had on some occasion borrowed the 
 coat from me and unconsciously left the purse in it. 
 All my efforts in that direction, however, were futile. 
 
 "But yesterday, Mrs. Ballou was at our house and 
 I asked her if she had lost a purse. To this she an- 
 swered no and put out several nterrogatories and final- 
 ly took into her hands the coat in question and trium- 
 phantly exclaimed: 'This is not your coat — here is a tag 
 
Travels 231 
 
 stitched under the collar — it reads F. A. Vanderlip 
 and it was made in London.' Thus the whole mystery 
 was cleared up and I am revealing it to you. See? 
 
 "Understand, I am not accusing anybody. Nor am 
 I complaining about the situation. The coat is a 
 better one than mine — a good deal better one. Why 
 should I worry? Besides, as I said, there is cash money 
 in it. 
 
 "Nevertheless, you ought to know what I know, and 
 so I'm telling you. If you were ashamed that I was 
 wearing too cheap a coat and resorted to this method 
 of exchange as a delicate artifice, that's one thing; but 
 if, as is probably the case, you then knew nothing of 
 it, why that's different. Now what? Can I get my old 
 coat back? Where is it? How can the re-exchange be 
 accomplished? 
 
 "Are you soon to return to California? I will do 
 anything you suggest, even to returning you the money. 
 
 "Awaiting your advice, and enjoying in the mean- 
 time the feeling of having money in my pocket and a 
 good overcoat on my back, I am, as ever, with full 
 confidence in your good intention," 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 Lyman J. Gage 
 Hon. Frank A Vanderlip, 
 
 Scarboro on Hudson, 
 New York. 
 
 Mr. Vanderlip spoke of Mr. Gage as a "loyal 
 friend, a wise instructor and a noble example, to 
 whom I owe the thing of greatest value in my career, 
 Opportunity." His visits at our home, together with 
 his family's, were always eagerly anticipated and en- 
 joyed by Mr. Gage and all of us. 
 
 After a strenuous day, he reached home in time 
 to dress for the evening reception. He was happy, 
 proud and deeply pleased with the many messages, 
 cables and telegrams which poured in from all parts 
 of the world. 
 
232 Memoirs of Lyman }. Gage 
 
 I shall never forget the scene, the night of this 
 birthday. He looked radiant, almost young, and very 
 handsome with his crown of snow-white hair and un- 
 lined face, as he sat a little apart, amidst a profusion 
 of exquisite flowers. The club house was transformed 
 into a bower of beauty. There were some eight hun- 
 dred guests. He greeted them all, unfatigued and 
 happy, despite the many interviews and engagements 
 which had filled the day. 
 
 The speeches of his friends and music and sup- 
 per filled the hours, but the climax of the evening 
 came when he arose and delivered his word of thanks. 
 
 "You can all imagine it has not been wholly an easy 
 thing for me to sit here and hear these high econiums, 
 but I am not going to try to refute their kind esti- 
 mates. Being, for myself, in the banking business for 
 many years and being in the habit of discounting 
 statements, I know pretty near how much discount 
 ought to be taken and you must all exercise that privi- 
 lege and discount for yourselves. It is rather a unique 
 position that I am in. I appreciate that. 
 
 "My chief distinction at the present time seems to 
 be that I am ninety years old. Well, anyhow, I do not 
 know whether you did right to celebrate it. Mrs. Gage 
 wanted to, and she did not consult me much about it. 
 She just took the bit in her teeth and put the thing 
 over. I have been impressed at several points by the 
 kind and flattering words. 
 
 "I wonder why Mrs. Gage took all this trouble. I 
 am in the habit of analyzing things and I finally 
 thought that in conformity with that principle of 
 human nature by which each individual prizes what 
 he thinks nobody has had, she knows that among the 
 wide circle of her friends, none of them has a husband 
 ninety years old. That does seem to be pretty old, 
 doesn't it? But everything is by comparison, and I 
 heard of a man (I do not know the man myself, I 
 say I heard of him) who was eighty-five years of age. 
 
Travels 233 
 
 He was visited by a friend who complimented him on 
 his vigorous, fine appearance, and finally said: 'You 
 must have come of a long-lived family.' 'No, I do not 
 know that I did.' 'Well,' he said, 'at what age did 
 your father pass out?' He said, 'My father has not 
 passed out. My father is upstairs with grandfather, 
 going over the fishing tackle. They are going out 
 fishing tomorrow.' Well, compared with that grand- 
 father, I feel quite young. 
 
 "I suppose that many of you have had two questions 
 in your mind: How does it seem to be ninety years old? 
 And another, I wonder if I will ever reach that age? 
 Well, the second question I cannot answer. I can 
 only say I hope you will, if you can be as comfortable 
 and happy in your experience of life and have as 
 many warm friends as I have; I hope you will all live 
 past that age, and I hope also, that if you do survive 
 so long, you will have as patient, loving care exercised 
 towards you, as has been exercised towards me for the 
 last twenty years or thereabouts. As I said before, my 
 wife, growing proud of my advanced years, has been 
 especially careful of me and because of that, I am only 
 ninety years old. If I had not had this care, I might 
 have been one hundred by this time. 
 
 "Time will not permit me to tell how it seems to 
 be ninety. There are so many phases to life. It is such 
 an experience and has so many sides and when one 
 gets to be towards ninety, one begins to understand that 
 he is gathering unto himself as the reaction from all 
 the past, all that he has sowed and all that he has 
 gathered in his contact with his fellowmen. I think 
 closely that the last ten, fifteen or twenty years of my 
 life, while they have not been full, nor have I en- 
 gaged much in activity, (for they all thought I was 
 going to die last year) have been years of retrospec- 
 tion, of reflection, and of trying to find out, if I 
 could, what the significance and meaning of life is. 
 I do not think I have attained that kind of wisdom. 
 I do not know; but I have attained a philosophy of 
 my own which is satisfactory, and, I have no doubt, 
 I can share it with you if it is explained to you and 
 
234 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 you can come into it in an informal way. That philo- 
 sophy teaches me that life is a great thing; it is a great 
 privilege to travel for a few years across this isthmus 
 which is bordered on each side with Eternity, and 1 
 have a consoling thought — yes, it is more than con- 
 soling, it is inspiring — quite firmly established in 
 my mind. I do not know it because I have not experi- 
 enced it, but I have it established in my mind from 
 the result of all my study and reflection — that life 
 as a matter of fact is something more than the ephem- 
 eral expression which operates for a time upon the 
 surface of the earth and then disappears. No, we were 
 all made for a long career not bothered much by our 
 lives here, and we will do well if we cherish that 
 thought and try to gather to ourselves those kinds of 
 goods, spiritual, intellectual, moral, sympathetic, fine, 
 clean, which will be real riches when we don that 
 spiritual state which is to be the final destiny of man. 
 "I cannot say more. I have, I think, said enough. 
 I thank you all for participating in this night of mine, 
 and wish you all very much happiness, and if it pleases 
 the hand of providence that other years pass over my 
 head, I shall be glad at any time and at all times to 
 meet you and take you by the hand." 
 
 Everyone enjoyed his words, and as he talked 
 I think all realized what a remarkable life he had 
 lived. 
 
 Every experience seemed to have been crowded 
 into his ninety years. Poverty in youth, the upward 
 climb to fame, and the responsibility of a nation's 
 welfare. Wealth and honor, then too, the living of 
 three domestic episodes, distinct and different. The 
 first one of love, romance, youth, marriage, father- 
 hood, then death, separation, heartache, loneliness 
 and loss. The second, one of Washington's social activ- 
 ity, congenial companionship with the charming, ami- 
 able second wife, realized honor and gain, and again 
 death and loneliness. The third, our venture, a home 
 
Travels 235 
 
 overlooking one of the world's glories, San Diego Bay, 
 on the slopes of beautiful Point Loma— a home filled 
 with youth, music, and interesting personalities from 
 all parts of the world, people who came to rest or to 
 discuss and argue mighty subjects — a home harmon- 
 ious and quiet, for all of us deferred to his age and 
 habits and the compelling power of his intellect and 
 will. 
 
 So the years slipped by. 
 
 When Junior reached his fourth birthday, he 
 wrote the inserted letter to him which I think may 
 serve as a text for many young lives, so aptly are his 
 words chosen. 
 
 Point Loma, California, 
 September 10, 1926. 
 Junior Gage, 
 
 Point Loma, California 
 My dear Boy: — 
 
 "Today is your fourth birthday; that is to say, you 
 are just four years old today. 
 
 "I am writing these lines of congratulation to be 
 read to you now, as better understood by you, when 
 you shall have learned to read them for yourself. 
 You cannot comprehend them now. Perhaps in ten 
 years you may be able, or if not, in twenty or twenty- 
 five. 
 
 "I begin by letting you know something of what 
 you mean to us now, while you are yet a child, and 
 to say something that will relate to the years that we 
 hope that you are yet to live. 
 
 "Looking at you now, we see a bright boy, full of 
 promise for the future, with a perfect body and all 
 the expressions of your mind, sweet and fine. We 
 love you; yes we love you deeply and cherish for you 
 the finest hopes that your life will go on and that it 
 will be an agreeable, useful and a happy life. 
 
 "It is clear to u«, that you are endowed with the 
 
236 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 possibility for realizing all that but we know that it 
 all depends upon how you grow and develop in your 
 physical moral and mental life. 
 
 "You see that into this material world into which 
 you have come, there are hazards and dangers of many 
 kinds. Water may drown, fire may destroy and acci- 
 dents of many kinds may harm your body, so that 
 you will not be able to enjoy health and strength 
 and the happiness they bring. These lie, as I have 
 said, in the physical world of which you are now a 
 part, and there are also other dangers which may 
 wreck your life and lead on to misery and wretched- 
 ness. 
 
 "In this life of ours here, there are two roads, either 
 of which we may follow. They are the right road and 
 the wrong road. 
 
 "The right road leads to usefulness, honor, content- 
 ment and peace. The wrong road leads to unhappiness 
 and ruin to those who follow it. 
 
 "These two roads have signs which you may read 
 if you will look and think, so you may know, if you 
 will, which road you are going on. 
 
 "The signs of the right road are Truth, Justice, 
 Self-Control, Purity of Mind, Good Purpose, Regard 
 for Others — that is to say kindness and love. 
 
 "The signs of the other road, the wrong road, are 
 Conceit, Vanity, Love of the Low and Vulgar, Self- 
 indulgence, Disregard for Truth, Envy of others and 
 Hate. 
 
 "Study these signs in yourself and wisely determine 
 to follow the right road. You may stumble and hurt 
 yourself even on this road; if so, be not discouraged, 
 but rise up again and go on it just the same, knowing 
 if you shall do this, all our hopes for you will be 
 realized. 
 
 "I will not be here to know, and even now can only 
 hope and pray that you will be wise and good; there- 
 fore, peaceful and happy. 
 
 "I have lived long and know that what is here writ- 
 ten, is true." 
 
 "Papa" Gage 
 
Travels 237 
 
 Following this letter to Junior, it may be of 
 value to some young man, who still holds the vision 
 of better thoughts and ideals, in this troubled time 
 of our planet's evolution, to read this letter Mr. Gage 
 wrote to his grandson, so full of beneficent sugges- 
 tions. 
 
 San Diego, California, 
 September 14th, 1921. 
 My dear Grandson Lyman: 
 
 "Some days ago, I remarked to you: 'I guess I will 
 have to write you a letter'. The thought I had in 
 mind was to express for your consideration the con- 
 ceptions I had finally reached concerning our life 
 here, its meaning and significance, the things relating 
 to it which possess real value, and the things in it 
 which, if pursued or indulged in, bring in results 
 injurious to the true end of our being. 
 
 "This, I say, was in a general way what I had in 
 mind, when I made the remark above quoted. I have, 
 however, been restrained from doing so, from two 
 reasons: 
 
 "One is that it would be a waste of time, since it 
 seems from general observation that no one can learn 
 anything from another, however true and valuable 
 it may be, but must acquire the knowledge — if at all 
 — and often too late, in the school of bitter experi- 
 ence. This has restrained me. Again, I realize in 
 advance how difficult it is for me, untrained in the aft 
 of expression, to make clear and forcible the thoughts 
 and opinions I would, if I could, transfer from my 
 mind to yours. But the truth is, that I am somewhat 
 concerned and troubled about you, lest you miss the 
 best and most important things of life, quite uncon- 
 scious of their value while you give yourself, your 
 thought and time to those of little or no value. The 
 man who does this becomes impoverished in enduring 
 wealth even if, like some of the men we know, he 
 acquires a sufficiency or a superfluity of material 
 goods. 
 
238 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 " 'What shall it profit a man, if he gain the whole 
 world and lose his own soul?' That question, raised in 
 a thoughtful mind many thousand years ago, has not 
 lost any of its pungency by the lapse of the centuries. 
 
 "I am not greatly concerned about your material 
 or physical welfare. You have a good constitution, 
 and a mind in its relation to practical business affairs 
 as capable, or more capable, than the average, in meet- 
 ing the questions of this sort which you are meeting 
 and will be compelled to meet in your business rela- 
 tions to your fellow men. 
 
 "Nor, while it seems to be important, it is not of 
 the first, or of immediate importance that in all enter- 
 prises and business efforts you achieve large results or 
 always gratifying rewards. Disappointments, if proper- 
 ly met, will discipline and qualify your mind and 
 judgment, while easy and continuous financial 
 achievements, may corrupt your nature, lead to 
 luxury, self-indulgence, vanity of spirit and final ruin, 
 as the same has been exemplified in the case of many, 
 notably the movie "stars," of which Arbuckle is an 
 outstanding modern example. No, it is not along the 
 material lines just above referred to that I am worried 
 about you. What I fear is that you are placing false 
 estimates on things. The real values of life attach to 
 the mind and spirit. 
 
 "Of these you seem to be neglectful, as if not aware 
 of their invaluable character. Of course, you are yet 
 young and the higher side of your mind may not vet 
 have opened into a true apprehension of the relative 
 value of the body and the spirit. But it never will 
 open, unless fed and watered by reflection and aspira- 
 tion. 
 
 "We get, in this world, what we buy and pay for. 
 'He that soweth to the flesh, shall of the flesh reap 
 corruption. He that soweth to the spirit, shall of the 
 spirit reap life,' — real, enduring life. That is law that 
 cannot be repealed. It lies in the nature of things. 
 It is self-executing; it operates by its own force. It 
 is a bad thing when a young person becomes blase or 
 blind to the truth. 
 
Travels 239 
 
 "I do not accuse you of being wholly so, but I do, 
 I think, discover in you. as in many others, a disposi- 
 tion gradually acquired in which you are inclined 
 to throw overboard as obsolete precepts and examples 
 which make for growth and fullness of life, while the 
 easy, the amusing, the objective things, which appeal 
 only to the senses, command your activities. It is a 
 clear proof of our innate superior nature that perman- 
 ent worthy satisfactions cannot be found in that direc- 
 tion. 
 
 "What I am saying is not derived from books, either 
 sacred or profane. It is the sure conviction born of 
 observation and reflection. That good books, the re- 
 cords of human experience, confirm what I am declar- 
 ing, tends however to strengthen and enforce it. 
 
 "If your own mind does not echo an approval of 
 the truth I am presenting, it is useless to extend the 
 argument. Truth must be perceived or apprehended, 
 or it carries no force. If you do apprehend the truth 
 to be along the line I have so briefly set forth, you 
 will ask: 'In what direction shall I apply myself to 
 gain the greater good?' 
 
 "The question has a practical answer, which you 
 only can practically apply. I can only make sugges- 
 tions. 
 
 "These are, I think, clean, good thoughts. Avoid 
 evil, whether suggested from within or presented from 
 without. Endeavor to do that. You will not always 
 succeed, but strive in that direction. 
 
 "Try to improve your mind by reading books that 
 are worth while. 
 
 "Seek the company of those who by character and 
 cultivation are your superiors, rather than your in- 
 feriors. 
 
 "Form good ideals, cherish them, believe in their 
 reality, strive to realize them in your life. 
 
 "Command your own soul. 
 
 "Refuse to be led about by flim-flam objective at- 
 tractions. 
 
 ' 'To thyself be true, then thou wilt not be false 
 to any man — or woman/ 
 
240 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 "Much more I could write, but this is enough. I 
 would not have taken this trouble except that I love 
 you and feel a deep interest that you shall find the 
 high road in life and avoid the bogs and marshes of 
 the low road. I am dealing in vital things — may they 
 so appear to you. If they do not now thus appear, 
 keep this letter, and sometimes read it again. 
 
 "Before you reach my age, it will have meaning to 
 your mind." 
 
 Your loving grandfather 
 Lyman J. Gage 
 
 Mr. Gage had an exceedingly broad vision, a 
 certain softened tenderness and tolerance for youth. 
 He made an analytical study of all the minds and 
 people he contacted, from the child to the adult. 
 Many brilliant Orientals came our way to be our 
 guests and discuss the Occult, Eastern and Western 
 views on religion and politics. A volume could be 
 written on those marvelous debates but these are his 
 memoirs, not my reflections. 
 
 Christmas was always a "wonder day" in my life, 
 and I tried to awaken the same interest in Mr. Gage 
 for the Great Gift Day. At first, Christmas was a bore 
 to him. He disliked accepting or giving gifts, at that 
 time, but what could he do with so many of us bub- 
 bling over with our enthusiasm? We all thought of 
 every conceivable gift he might enjoy, and each year 
 we tried to make things more and more pleasant at 
 the Yuletide for him. One Christmas, I was away 
 from home, and to show you how keen was his 
 humor. I insert the following acknowledgment to 
 me of some gifts I'd sent him: 
 
 Glorissima Gage: 
 
 "Well, I'll be darned if them there Xmas presents 
 you sent me are not just the limit. That fire-screen, 
 
Travels 241 
 
 them tongs and shovel, those ties and them suspenders, 
 so uplifting. 
 
 "Don't think I don't appreciate your gifts because 
 I don't say more. 
 
 "Hoping next Xmas will be as generous to me with 
 other gifts, 
 
 "I am, with love, 
 
 L. J. G." 
 
 His chair on the last Christmas he was with us 
 was laden with family offerings. Our group then con- 
 sisted of Mr. Gage, my mother, whom he jokingly 
 called "Mother," altho she was years younger than 
 he, my adopted sister Helene Richards, a very beau- 
 tiful young woman of whom he was exceedingly 
 fond, Junior Gage, a young couple in their early 
 twenties who were engaged to be married, and whose 
 romance interested him greatly, she being Sally 
 Searle, from Honolulu, the sister of Kamuela and he 
 Frank J. Widomen from Los Angeles, Manuel Millet, 
 another protege, a young baritone whose gorgeous 
 voice should be known the world over, Aloys Bohnen, 
 the well known portrait painter from New York, my- 
 self, and the household pets, of which he was very 
 fond. This was our group on that last Christmas 
 Day. 
 
 We had finished the day with a turkey dinner 
 and a little pre-war wine. He lifted his glass, as we 
 gathered around, and said, "I shall not be with you 
 next year, except in spirit— I feel it, but I hope you 
 all will be here, well and happy." 
 
 The New Year came, and as was our custom, 
 we watched the old year out. He seemed very de- 
 pressed, as if he felt that the moving finger of Fate 
 was writing that he would not be allowed to remain 
 long. 
 
242 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 Mr. Gage had an almost Lincolnian attitude 
 toward the colored race, and was ever so pleased to 
 render them any service possible. 
 
 The picture shows him with Booker T. Wash- 
 ington, whom he appreciated and admired as a guid- 
 ing star of his race. 
 
 Roland Hayes, with his glorious tenor, the in- 
 spired Voice of his people, was also sincerely admired 
 by Mr. Gage. I heard Mr. Gage say to him one after- 
 noon as Mr. Hayes was calling at our home: "You 
 and I are really underneath brothers, just the differ- 
 ence of skin, in color, that is all," and that was his 
 attitude. 
 
 He was a firm friend of the Japanese, and his 
 correspondence with their great statesman, Viscount 
 Shibusawa, was a keen delight to him. 
 
 Tokyo, May 10, 1922. 
 Mr. Lyman J. Gage, 
 Point Loma, California 
 
 My dear Mr. Gage: — 
 
 "It is more than three months since I returned 
 from a long trip to your country, and I must beg your 
 pardon for my inability to write you sooner. I can 
 never forget the pleasure that I enjoyed during the 
 four months of my journey in America. I deem it due 
 to the warmest sympathy and goodwill given by your 
 good self and your associates, for which I am pro- 
 foundly grateful. 
 
 "Immediately after my return, I spent a few weeks 
 in a warmer clime. That, however, did not prevent 
 me from taking cold once or twice afterward. But now 
 I have perfectly recovered from it and am attending 
 to various kinds of work with the same vigour as I 
 had when I was with you in your country. 
 
 "It was a great privilege as well as honor for me 
 to meet you at the Hotel Coronado on the 21st of 
 
Travels 243 
 
 December, 1921, and to indulge in such an interesting 
 chat with you. One thing which is a cause of regret 
 for me in my visit to San Diego was that I could not 
 comply with your request to meet with your leading 
 citizens on account of the limitedness of my time 
 there. 
 
 "Being convinced more than ever of the necessity 
 of giving the fundamental solution to the Japanese 
 questions both in California and Hawaii, I am still 
 working together with my associates along those lines. 
 The progress is rather slow, but it is steadily coming 
 out to its shape and I shall be pleased to let you 
 know the result when it is reached. At any rate, I 
 need your unabated interest and cooperation in the 
 matter on hand. 
 
 "Asking again your generous pardon for this long 
 delay, I beg to remain, 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 E. Shibusawa." 
 
 Point Loma, California, 
 May 31st, 1922. 
 Viscount Shibusawa, 
 
 Tokio, Japan. 
 My dear Viscount: — 
 
 "It was a very great pleasure to receive your letter 
 of the 10th instant, and I have a deep sense of personal 
 gratification that you remember me, and share with 
 me the satisfactions which come from our personal 
 contacts and our intimate conversations. 
 
 "It has been a constant regret with me that I could 
 show you such small courtesies on the occasion of your 
 visit here in December last. The intolerable weather 
 conditions and the pressure on your time are my only 
 excuse. 
 
 "Through all the avenues I can reach, I am watch- 
 ing with great interest the course of events as they 
 effect the relations of Japan and the United States. 
 These I believe are steadily, if slowly, improving. The 
 Washington Conference, with the four pact treaty, 
 was a great forward step of both countries, and since 
 
244 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 that event, there has been an almost complet cessa- 
 tion, in the Press and among our people, of the viru- 
 lent talk which was before so much in evidence. No 
 longer does Japan and its political designs bother 
 the imaginations. And I hope that in your country, 
 that is also true. 
 
 "Gradually I believe it will come to be seen, that 
 fear and suspicion are not good foundation on which 
 to build a state. A better understanding is sure to be 
 reached, and as the people of both countries desire 
 to see the principles of Justice, Toleration, mutual 
 respect, and the love of Equity established, mutual 
 confidence and good will each to the other, will pre- 
 vail. 
 
 "For this happy condition, you have done much, 
 and in my mind and in those of thousands of others, 
 your name stands as one representative of the high 
 ideals which are constructive in their nature and make 
 for human welfare. 
 
 "My acquaintance with you and your sympathetic 
 associations in Japan, has enlarged my own views of 
 the world and deepened my conviction that in the 
 fullness of time the civilized nations will overcome 
 the ignorance and prejudices, and at last reach a 
 'Federation of Man.' 
 
 Cordially yours, 
 Lyman J. Gage" 
 
 Point Loma, California, 
 June 26th, 1923. 
 'Baron E. Shibusawa, 
 
 Tokyo, Japan. 
 Dear Baron: — 
 
 "I have read with deep interest your signed letter 
 of June 5th, with the "statement" enclosed therein. 
 "The appeal it carries for a High Joint Commission, 
 representative of your country and ours, to consider 
 in the spirit of equity and justice, the proper attitude 
 and relation between our people and yours, commends 
 itself with great force to my mind and judgment. 
 "It is a pity that human ignorance and prejudices 
 
Travels 245 
 
 should raise barriers to the operation of that higher 
 law which makes for the mutual well being and hap- 
 piness of men. But it is so, and the fact that it is so 
 demonstrates that as a whole the human family has 
 not yet fully emerged from the semi-barbarism, which 
 like a dark enveloping cloud, has hidden the true 
 paths which humanity should follow. 
 
 "What can be done by those, who like you, are able 
 to get better views of the principles, which, if adopted, 
 would make for world peace, progress and prosperity? 
 Our Scriptures truly declare: "The whole Creation 
 groaneth and travaileth in pain until now," and this 
 is a true declaration. Nor can we hope for a speedy 
 termination to this period of darkness. 
 
 "Happily there are forces operating, slowly perhaps, 
 to disseminate among men, more enlightenment, a 
 truer sense of the one-ness of humanity, and a clearer 
 perception of what is just and therefore wise. 
 
 "To this development we must trust for the better 
 days to come. In the meantime those who see the light 
 must possess their souls in patience, bearing with 
 hopeful faith the pains of unfulfilled desire. 
 
 "I rejoice that in you and many of your fellow 
 countrymen, I perceive this spirit to exist. Your voices 
 are lifted for toleration, justice, equity and good will. 
 I pray for the growth of these sentiments among all 
 Americans. 
 
 "If they can be cultivated in you and in us, their 
 peaceable fruits shall be gathered in. Violence, force, 
 bitterness and hate, as destructive forces, have dark- 
 ened men's minds. It is only by the growth of their 
 opposites, that humanity can be saved. 
 
 "I believe that conference between the best of you 
 and the best of us, may serve to shed the light among 
 many, and do much to remove the clouds which have 
 obscured and still obscure the life giving rays of the 
 sun. 
 
 "In closing this acknowledgment of your nobly 
 couched circular, let me express my deep appreciation 
 of the thought and purpose which animate you and 
 
246 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 that large number of your fellow countrymen, with 
 whom it was my lasting pleasure some three years 
 ago to come into social contact." 
 
 Cordially yours, 
 Lyman J. Gage 
 
 He deplored the treatment given Japan by our 
 country, and felt our exclusion acts too rigid. 
 
 Keenly interested in many Indian philosophers, 
 he discussed with them their philosophies in a toler- 
 ant attitude and questioned them eagerly, always 
 alert to make any truth in these matters a part of 
 his garnered wisdom. 
 
 Sri. Jogish Misrow, a Hindu Swami who has 
 been many times a guest in our home, he really 
 loved. He entertained him at luncheon at the Univer- 
 sity Club and had him address the members. He 
 always said after each contact with him: "He is a fine 
 soul, although I do not understand fully all he knows 
 of philosophy, reincarnation and Brahminism. I feel 
 one with him, we are both the same." 
 
 Occasionally, Mr. Gage liked to break into 
 rhyme, and I insert a few here. 
 
 "Far off where spicy breezes blow 
 From magic isles of beauty 
 Where dream sunsets glow, 
 My soul in sleep, enchanted wanders. 
 'Tis then that love is duty, 
 And steeped in dreams I ponder 
 All Life's deep questions over. 
 Hushed are the deadly noises 
 Which fill the soul with care, 
 Sweet and low the heavenly voices, 
 That tell when life is free and fair." 
 
Travels 247 
 
 BOTHERATION 
 
 "How one suffers indignation 
 When a-trav'ling in vacation. 
 One's laid over at some station, 
 Vainly waiting transportation. 
 "Train is late." No explanation 
 Satisfies interrogation. 
 You can swallow your vexation 
 Longing for your destination. 
 Friends await with expectation 
 To join you in recreation, 
 Wond'ring why in all creation 
 You have brok'n the combination 
 Hours lag by. Exasperation 
 Leaves no room for moderation. 
 Ev'ry form of objurgation 
 Fills the air with profanation. 
 Oh, do not utter condemnation 
 On one who, losing veneration, 
 Forgets himself in perturbation 
 And uses words of desecration. 
 Depressed by dreary isolation, 
 Thus overcome by aggravation, 
 One sinks at last into stagnation 
 And lose pow'r for imprecation. 
 But Time at last brings termination 
 To good and evil situation. 
 The train arrives. A new elation 
 Soothes the heart with calm resignation. 
 Home again. The old dear location 
 Reached at last. Oh, what agitation, 
 As friend greets friend with animation. 
 For travel, this, the compensation." 
 
 On January 20, 1927, he and our entire family 
 went to the Philharmonic Concert, conducted by 
 the late Walter Rothwell. On the 21st, we all attended 
 a concert given by a young singer making her debut. 
 On Saturday evening, the 22nd, he and I attended a 
 
248 Memoirs of Lyman J. Gage 
 
 large dinner given by Gen. and Mrs. M. O. Terry at 
 Hotel del Coronado, in honor of the army and navy 
 officials. This was his last public appearance. That 
 evening he seemed in perfect health, in full posses- 
 sion of his mental brilliancy, full of jokes and laugh- 
 ter. He was always a charming dinner guest, being a 
 splendid conversationalist. 
 
 On Sunday evening, January 23rd, after a hard chill, 
 he went to bed and pneumonia developed rapidly. 
 
 Monday he seemed very comfortable, with no 
 pain. Early Tuesday I asked him if he did not want 
 me to summon his grandson, Lyman J. Gage II, who 
 lived in Hollywood. "No, I am not sick enough yet." 
 However, early the following morning I felt he was 
 failing so rapidly his grandson should be with him, and 
 phoned him to "Come at once." He motored down, 
 but despite the best efforts of Dr. Crabtree, on Jan- 
 uary 26th, 1927, at high noon, in the brilliant sun- 
 shine he so loved, Mr. Gage slipped away. He was 
 conscious to his last breath, holding my hand. His 
 grandson arrived shortly afterwards. 
 
 About fifteen minutes before his heart ceased 
 to beat, he asked me if I had any question to ask him. 
 Although I did have many I would have liked to 
 have had him answer, I saw he was too weak to make 
 the effort to speak, so I answered, "No, my dear L. J., 
 just rest, and know that I am grateful for all you've 
 tried to do for me— that I love you and will stay with 
 you until you no longer need me." 
 
 He smiled and said, "You've been a game girl," 
 then gave a little sigh and was gone. 
 
 His funeral was held in the Unitarian Church, 
 the home of the Open Forum, whose platform he 
 drafted, and which follows: 
 
Travels 249 
 
 "The Open Forum is not a propaganda for any 
 body of ideas or theories, political, social or economic. 
 Its purpose is to provide a field wherein the represen- 
 tatives of various doctrines or opinions may have op- 
 portunity to present their ideas to a tolerant and 
 respectful hearing. 
 
 "It is hoped that by a better understanding of ideas 
 and motives, and by a clearer conception of varying 
 points of view, we may reach a sense of mutuality 
 and good-will, thus enabling truth to overcome prej- 
 udice, and that we may thus aid society in our limited 
 way to move forward along the evolutionary path 
 which may lie before it, with least of hostility and 
 bitterness." 
 
 The active bearers were his six beloved friends 
 from the Knights of the Round Table: Eugene 
 Daney, Willet S. Dorland, Milton A. McRae, John 
 H. McCorkle, Richard Gunning and M. J. Perrin. 
 
 The honorary pall bearers were members of the 
 Tuesday Club: Dr. Fred Baker, Rev. W. E. Crabtree, 
 M. T. Gilmore, Edward L. Hardy, Dr. M. C. Hard- 
 ing, M. A. Luce, George W. Marston, Rev. S. J. Shaw, 
 W. A. Sloane, Julius Wangenheim and Ernest White. 
 
 The day was very beautiful and the church 
 massed with floral offerings from all parts of the 
 world. He lay almost smiling, with no signs of the rav- 
 ages of old age, or of struggle, but peaceful, majestic, 
 serene among his friends and flowers, with continu- 
 ous soft, flowing music of organ, harp, cello and 
 violin pervading the hush of the church. All his 
 favorite compositions were played as his three friends, 
 the Rev. Willard B. Thorpe, rector of the Congrega- 
 tional Church at Palo Alto, the Rev. Howard B. 
 Bard, rector of the Unitarian Church, and the Rev. 
 W. E. Crabtree, rector of the Christian Church, both 
 
250 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 of San Diego, gave their eulogies and blessings to 
 their departed friend. 
 
 Men of all nationalities, women and children, 
 stopped in reverent admiration and sorrow to whisper 
 with tear-filled eyes their last goodbye to the "Grand 
 Old Man," as he was lovingly called. 
 
 In the following March, I took the body to 
 Chicago for burial, where he lies between the two 
 wives he so loved in beautiful Rosehill Cemetery. 
 
 With many mediums, from one of which has 
 evolved a book written by Mr. Gage's protege, 
 Florizel von Reuter, the great violinist,— "The Psy- 
 chical Experiences of a Musician" (In Search of 
 Truth) , published by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The 
 medium was Mrs. Estelle White, with whom I have 
 "sat" for many years and through whom has come 
 some marvelously beautiful work. 
 
 One evening we persuaded Florizel and his 
 mother, both quite unreasonable skeptics, to be pres- 
 ent. Mr. Gage was thoroughly pleased at the results, 
 and could he have foreseen the book which has come 
 from Florizel's pen, he would surely have been grati- 
 fied, as I think it is going to be a strong link in the 
 ever lengthening chain of true evidence of the Life 
 Beyond. 
 
 Some day I shall perhaps write of my own 
 psychic experiences, covering many years, but these 
 are Mr. Gage's memoirs and I must not intrude too 
 many of my personal thoughts. 
 
 Dr. E. H. Crabtree, the attending physician, a 
 man of splendid medical repute, a dear friend of Mr. 
 Gage's and one in whom he had great confidence, 
 wrote these lines after leaving Mr. Gage's bedside: 
 
Travels 25/ 
 
 "The shell is gone, the earthly house 
 
 So battered by the storms of life 
 
 Has fallen down, but in the hearts of men 
 
 Who have had contact with that noble mind 
 
 There breathes a symphony of gorgeous notes 
 
 Reflected from the spirit of the man 
 
 Who e'en in death could smile and say: 
 
 'Ay, what is death? Philosophers have said 
 
 That it is sleep. What is more beautiful than sleep, 
 
 That rests the tired limbs, and soothes the weary 
 
 brain. 
 Others have told that we wake to higher life — 
 Then as a mariner forth setting on a cruise, 
 New sights to see, new visions to behold, new worlds 
 
 to conquer, 
 Shall I, with girded loins, anticipation in my heart, 
 Launch out to meet my Destiny. 
 In vain the Doctor strove the earthly house to save — 
 Death took his toll. 
 
 A rarer, sweeter balm by far the patient gave 
 To heal the soul." 
 
 I only wish space would permit me to publish 
 all the wonderful memorial resolutions sent to me 
 from different societies, banks and business firms, all 
 done in exquisite volumes. 
 
 Some day I may publish his letters, as he was a 
 master writer of friendly letters. I'll do this perhaps, 
 so that the younger generation may find in his philos- 
 ophy, a guide. I have copies of all he wrote for the 
 last twenty-five years, and they contain rare thoughts 
 which I feel the world should share. 
 
 Many have asked me: "Have you heard from 
 M. Gage since he passed?" I can say truthfully: "I 
 believe I have contacted him several times." He re- 
 grets that the communication between the visible and 
 the invisible is not easier of accomplishment, or more 
 frequent, so that he could tell us freely of his inter- 
 
252 Memoirs of Lyman /. Gage 
 
 esting discoveries, his meeting with many of his old 
 friends who had preceded him into the Great Beyond. 
 
 Believing as he did and as I do, in this inter- 
 communication between our world and the one in- 
 visible to physical eyes, Death loses much of its terror, 
 and its inevitable sting of sorrow. 
 
 In closing I quote from the beautiful, helpful 
 message from the Acquarian Gospel of Jesus, the 
 Christ, in Chapter 30. It quotes Jesus as writing to 
 his mother, upon hearing of the death of Joseph. 
 This seems particularly apropos to the passing of 
 Mr. Gage, as I can find nowhere words which so 
 aptly describe Mr. Gage's life-work, and it is a per- 
 sonal message to all who read. 
 
 "His work in this earth-round is done and nobly 
 done. 
 
 "In all works of Life men cannot charge him 
 with deceit, dishonesty or wrong intent. 
 
 "Here in this round, he finished many heavy 
 tasks, and he has gone from hence prepared to solve 
 the problems of the Soul. 
 
 "Our Father-God is with him there as he was 
 with him here, and there his angel guards his foot- 
 steps lest he go astray. 
 
 "Why should you weep? Tears cannot conquer 
 grief. There is no power in grief to mend a broken 
 heart. 
 
 "The plane of grief is idleness; the busy Soul 
 can never grieve, it has no time for grief. 
 
 "When grief comes trooping through the heart, 
 just lose yourself, plunge deep into the ministry of 
 love — and grief is not. 
 
 "Yours is a ministry of Love and all the world 
 is calling out for Love. 
 
Travels 253 
 
 "Then let the past go with the past; rise from 
 the cares of carnal things and give your life for those 
 who live. 
 
 "And if you lose your life in serving life, you 
 will be sure to find it in the morning sun, the evening 
 dews, in song of birds, in flowers and in the stars of 
 night. 
 
 "In just a little while your problems of this 
 earth-round will be solved and when your sums are 
 all worked out, it will be pleasure unalloyed for you 
 to enter wider fields of usefulness, to solve the greater 
 problems of the Soul." 
 Gloria Gage, 
 
 Point Loma, 
 California. 
 June - 1928. 
 
Genealogical Data of Gages. 
 
 L. J.'s Father — Eli A. Gage, born January 11, 1807 
 — died March 3, 1879. 
 and 
 Mother — Mary Cornelia Gage, born February 22, 
 
 1811— died April 20, 1873. 
 Married October 3, 1831. 
 Had four children: — 
 
 Amelia Maria Gage, born June 2, 1834 
 Lyman Judson Gage, born June 28, 1836 
 Eli Harrison Gage, born May 30, 1839 
 Floyd Glover Gage, born April 29, 1846. 
 Lyman J. Gage and Sarah Etheridge, married at Al- 
 lison, New York, November 17, 1864. 
 Their children: — 
 
 Eli Alexander Gage, born at Evanston, Illinois, 
 July 28, 1867 — died at Seattle, Washington. 
 
 Fanny J Twins. Born at Evanston, May 20, 1869. 
 Mary { Died, Evanston, September 2, 1869. 3 
 months. 
 
 Locke Etheridge Gage, born at Chicago, September 
 24, 1865 — died October 24, 1869, aged four. 
 
 Sarah Etheridge, wife of Lyman J. Gage, died 
 at Evanston, Saturday, September 12, 1874, at the 
 age of 34, of pelvic abscess. He writes of her: "She 
 was a noble and virtuous woman; as a wife forgetful 
 of self and thoughtful only for the happiness of her 
 husband and children; as a mother, watchful, affec- 
 tionate, patient and devoted. As a woman, pure and 
 good with a heart quick in sympathy for every form of 
 suffering. As a Christian, of simple faith, quiet and 
 unrepining under trials and afflictions. God keep us 
 all under this great loss." 
 
 Cornelia W. Gage, second wife, died at Washington, 
 September 2, 1901. Married at Denver, Colorado, 
 June 7, 1887. 
 
 —254— 
 
Addenda 255 
 
 Of little Fannie, who died at Evanston, Illinois, 
 Saturday, October 23, 1880, aged 11 years, Mr. Gage 
 wrote: 
 
 "She was sweet and fair to look upon. In health, 
 vigorous and bouyant, with life and energy. In sick- 
 ness, patient, uncomplaining, cheerful. Always kind, 
 affectionate, thoughtful and considerate for others. 
 Her life so soon ended was yet adorned by many 
 graces. How blessed is her memory, but alas, that it is 
 but in memory she is left to us.'* L. J. 
 
 Within the petals of a flower 
 I caught the glint of sun and sky; 
 I drank the sweetness of the dew 
 And witness gave to heavenly power. 
 
 Amid the wonders men call Life, 
 I yielded self to Life's high plan. 
 Imprisoned? Yes, to stalk and leaf 
 From whence I drew the strength of Strife. 
 
 For strife there was: Twixt earth and sky, 
 I felt the storms beat on my head 
 And knew not then the meaning high 
 Of warring forces moving by. 
 
 Arrived at last to ripeness fine, 
 With sweetness stored in every cell, 
 First fruit of garden cultured long, 
 I come to you as Valentine. 
 Sent to Sarah Etheridge, later Mrs. Lyman J. Gage. 
 

 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 
 r R-mG1 C002 
 
 MEMOIRS OF LYMAN J. GAGE NY 
 
 3 0112 025406221