NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW. No. CCXXII. JANUARY, 1869. ART. I. 1. Gottfried Wilhelm Freiherr von Leibnitz. Eine I3ograplde. Von G. E. GUHRAUER. Breslan. 1846. 2. Des Freilierrn von Leibnitz Kleinere Phiiosophische Scitrif- ten, mit einer Vorrede HERRN CHRISTIAN WOLFFS. Jena. 1740. 8. ]lilionadoiogie. Deutsch mit einer Abhandlung ilber Leib- nifz I/nd Herbarts Th eorieen des wiriclichen Gesche hens. You Da. II. ZIMMERMANN. Wien. 1847. 4. Grit ndriss der Geschichte der Philosophie. Von Dn. Jo- HANN EDUARD ERDMANN. Berlin. 1866. 5. FRIEDRICH HEINrnCH JACOBIS Werke. Leipzig. 1815. 6. LEIBNITZII, G. W. v., Opera Philosophica quce exstant Dutitta, Gallica, Germanica omnia. Edita recoguovit J. E. ISRDMANN. Berlin. 1840. IT is a significant enough fact, that of the philosophers of Germany those are comparatively most appreciated who move in a region of diffuseness and darkness. The art-criticism of the Sehlcigel-Schelling school is accepted with far greater avidity than the learned, thorough, and lucid criticism of Lessing; the mathematical exactness of Fichtes phraseology and meth- od is thrown aside for the obscure, hut, on that account, more awe-inspiring, diffuseness of Hegel; and how much higher a place is assigned to Spinoza than to Leihnitz as a philos- olixer So true is it that the human race flies from light as if it were an enemy, and hinds itself in suhjection to mystery. VOL. CVIII. NO. 222. 1 2 Got Ifried Wilhelm Leibnitz. [Jan. The transparent style of Leibnitz seems so commonplace in comparison with Spinozas mystic utterances, that men can- not persuade themselves that it is not vastly inferior. What should become of them, indeed, if the former succeeded in making the whole structure of the universe as clear as the demonstration of a triangle? Would not mankind die of sheer CflflUi~ if light were thrown into every region of hu- man knowledge? Accordingly men and more especial- ly, at all times, the upelearers, friends of enlightened views, and prophets of a new liberal meligion rally around the incomprehensible, forswear the authority of the Bible for the authority of Jacob Boehme or Spinoza, and glory in the fact that there is still something beyond, some dark shadow, generally called Being, which we do not know. The two men of all others who have pursued this dark shadow and spectre of unknown Being into its most hidden recesses, and lit it up by the sunlight of reason, Leibnitz and Fichte, have, in so far as their labors had this object in view, labore in vain. Leibnitz is known as an extellent mathematician and scholar of most various ac- tainments, and Fichte is cherished in the memQry of Germany as a man of rare honesty and an. earnest patriot; nay, some few have even heard of the curious theory of ]Ilonads of the one, and of the equally curious theory of the Ego and Non-Ego of the other: but that each of these men both honest and in earnest search of trnth, and neither of them in the least likely to deceive himself about the extent and range of his discovery did discover, or said he had discovered, a universally valid science of knowledge, which settled all possible disputes about metaphysical problems, and left open for advancement and dis- cussion only the natural sciences, this is neither understood nor investigated, and probably will not be for a century, not until this race of ours has grown to be less cowardly and more self-reliant than it is now. Nevertheless, it is well enough, once in a while, to repeat this statement, if merely as an historical fact; for amongst the younger generation it is always possible that there may be some who will feel sufficiently interested to make the investigation, and who again will incite others of the succeediug generation to a Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz. 3 like endeavor. In the case of Leibnitz this is all the more proper, as he rather lived his system than elaborated it in writing. Whenever he did so elaborate it, it was in a frag- mentary way, the completest of his fragments being the Mon- adology. An interest in the life of Leibnitz will therefore lead of itself to an interest in his philosophy, and perhaps even to a comprehension of its nature. Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz was born on the 21st of June, 1646, in the city of Leipsic, where his father was established as a notary-public; and in the family Bible the latter has chronicled, that, on the occasion of the childs baptism, it opened and raised its eyes when the water was sprinkled upon it, which record is followed by this prophetic prayer: And thus I wish and prophesy that this may be a sign of faith, and the best pledge that this my son will live a godly life, with eyes uplifted to God throughout all his life,that he may burn with love to God, and through this love may do admirable deeds fQr the glory of the Highest, as well as for the welfare and growth of the Holy Church, and for the salva- tion of himself and us all ! The father died when the child was but six years old; and yet he departed this life with full and oft-expressed conviction of that childs future celebrity. The mother a pious, in- telligent woman now took sole charge of the education of her son. She sent him to school, where he soon evinced an uncommon love of knowledge, and a quickness of parts which excited general admiration. In a quasi autobiography, Leib- nitz thus describes the manner in which he, characteristically enough, learned Latin. I should doubtless have learned Lat- in with the customary slowness, had not accident led me upon a peculiar way. In the house where I lived I found two books which had been pawned by a student: the one, as I re- member, was a Livy; the other, the Chronological Thesaurus of Calvisius. Scarcely were they in my hands when I began to devour them. Calvisius I understood easily enough, having a German book on general history which contained pretty much the same matter. In Livy, however, I often got stuck; for as the affairs and the manner of writing of the ancients were unknown to me, and as writers of history have, moreover, 4 Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnilz. [Jan. a peculiar diction, remote from the common intelligence, I at first understood not a line of it, to speak the truth. But as it was an old edition, full of figures and wood-cuts, I carefully examined these, read here and there the subjoined words, caring little about obscure phrases, and skipping what I did not comprehend. When I had done this repeatedly, and had looked through the whole book, I understood more and more each time. Delighted at my success, I thus continued without a lexicon till most of it was clear to my mind. In the meaii while, happening once to quote some passages which had fixed themselves in my memory, one of the teachers seemed surprised, and asked me how I had learned these things. When I confessed and communicated to him what I remembered, he grew silent. But he went to those who directed my education, and requested them to prevent my regular studies from being disturbed by premature reading. Livy, he told them, fitted me as well as a cothurnus would fit a pygmy. A boy of my age ought to be debarred from books written for a riper age, and to be kept to his little cate- cliism and the picture-book of Comenius. He doubtless would have convinced them, had not a cultivated nobleman of the neighborhood, and a friend of our landlord, happened to be present. Struck with the schoolmasters shall I say envy or simplicity ? he told him bow unfair and intolerable it would be, if the first germs of developing genius in a child were blasted by the brutish prejudices of teachers. He then called me, and receiving no absurd answers from me to his inquiries, he did not desist till he had forced my relations to promise him that I should have access to my fathers private library, which had been kept so long under lock and key. How I triumphed, as if I had found a treasure! Thus he plunged deeply into antiquity, and in Latin acquired such fluency, that, at the age of thirteen, on the occasion of a recitation in school, he undertook to write three hundred faultless hexameters within the hours from daybreak to noon. Frequently, in later years, he referred to the early freedom and self-reliance which led him to the study of the ancients as of incalculable benefit to his whole character and life. The clearness and precision of expression in which the German Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz. 5 was at that time more wanting than any other European lan- guage, and which, since the days of Lessing and Schiller, it has again been losing to a deplorable degree, Leibnitz learned from the classics to value so highly, that, at that early age, he alr~ady resolved upon two rules for his whole future life: always to seek clearness in words and other mental symbols; but in things ever to look to utility. Interested as he was in making Latin verses, this interest soon relaxed before the studs of logic. I saw at once, he writes, as well as a boy of thirteen could see, that there was something great concealed in logic. No sooner had he seen this than as throughout his whole life he applied it. The divisions and subdivisions of logic he immediately began to em- ploy for arranging his thoughts and recollections under such heads as tended much to facilitate his command of them. lie used these categories, as he expressed it, as a net wherewith to catch flighty game, namely, acquired treasures of mind. On the same principle he devised also an art of questionino~, which might enable travellers in foreign lands, at any time and under any circumstances, to propound such questions as alone would be generally important. These two circumstances, writes he to a friend, that I was self- taught, and that immediately upon approaching a science, even when I scarcely understood its rudiments, I sought for some- thing new in it, have been of extraordinary service to me. For thus I gained a twofold benefit: first, that I did not fill my mind with matters soon to be forgotten, and which are usually learned more out of respect to the authority of teachers than from any intrinsic value; and, secondly, that I never rested until I had discovered the first principles of every science I studied. A closer study of those categories of logic led Leibnitz in his very boyhood to the conception which constituted the basis of all his future discoveries in the various sciences. I hit, writes he, upon the wonderful idea, that it would be possible to invent a certain alphabet of human thoughts, and that from the combination of the letters of this alphabet, and an analysis of the words formed out of them, everything could be discov- ered as well as judged. Scarcely had my mind seized this idea when I shouted in triumph, though certainly with a boy- 6 Got ifried Wilhelm Leibnitz. [Jan. ish joy, for at that time I did not yet grasp the full greatness of the subject. The idea here alluded to is perhaps better explained thus. There is a necessary connection in our knowledge of all the manifold parts of the universe, and this connection may be apprehended from the analysis of any one fact in that knowl- edge. Given, therefore, a single fact of consciousness, and it is possible a priori to construct out of it by mathematical analysis the whole system of the universe in all its details. Nay, more: since even the products of freedom, in so far as they manifest themselves through the medium of objective Nature, are limited by the laws of that Nature, it is even possible for the philosopher to construct a priori every possible free product of reason. Every possible piece of music, every possible work of art, can thus be known and described before- hand. As the whole infinity of number, with all its combina- tions and order of sequence, lies~ involved in the 1 and the 0, 50 does every fact of consciousness, as the synthesis of the Ego and the Non-Ego, involve all possible facts of consciousness, as well as their combination and order; and if this order could but be established in the latter case (in philosophy) as it has been estab- lished in mathematics, the human race would have made an ad- vance more important than any revolution since the coming of Christ. Such a science of the order of the synthesis of the Ego and the Non-Ego, such a true science of knowledge, would be an instrument wherewith every problem could at aily time be solved by one who understood its mode of operation. But the great obstacle to the communication of such a science not to its first full comprehension by the original inventor would be the absence of signs for those orders and sequences of acts of the mind. In arithmetic we deal with numbers, which no person can mistake, and in geometry with lines, which can be perceived; but in this science of knowl- edge we should only have intellectual contemplations, acts of the mind, which there are no means of verifying or of commu- nicating to others. True, we use terms of language to desig- nate such of them as have in the course of human life arisen into consciousness, and hence such terms as substantiality, causality, are supposed to designate certain conceptions; but 7 Gottfried TVilhcl,n Leibnitz. we can never feel sure that the person to whom we wish to communicate an act of the mind under such a name will have a true comprehension of that which it is intended to designate. This latter consideration suggested to Leibnitz the plan of inventing a philosophical terminology after the manner of algebraic signs, since mere signs would clearly be the best guaranty against misconception of existing words; and through his whole life he busied himself with this thought, as did a century later Fichte, who, in his Sun- clear Statement, confesses the same necessity for a philosoph- ical algebra. But as Leibnitz did not need it for himseW but only for communication, he left the project, like many others of his life, unrealized. Thoroughly in possession of all the subtilties of logic, and having, moreover, completed a course of study of the School- men, Leibnitz, in 1661, at the age of fifteen, entered the Leip- sic university to prepare himself for active life by thc study of law. He excelled here as everywhere. In 1663 he read his dis- sertation, De Priacipio individui; and in 1666 published a lit- tle work, De Arte Oo~nbiuatoria, wherein all his fnture achieve- ments in philosophy are already contained, as it were, in the germ, and which led him later to the discovery of the Differential Calculns. But, to his great chagrin, lie found it impossible, by the rules of the Leipsic university, to obtain the degree of Doctor fans until after the expiration of five years; and when finally this time had expired, he was rejected by the Board of Ex. miners, there being a number of older candidates for pro- motion, whom it was considered expedient to admit in ad- vance of the younger ones. Longing to establish hhuself pro- fessionally in the law, he felt extremely annoyed at this ac- tion of the board, and having already acquired a name of some celebrity abroad, and his mother having died meanwhile (in 1664), he resolved to emigrate. Accordingly in the autumn of 1666 he left Leipsic, which he never afterwards liked to revisit, and went to the university at Altdorf, where, by his excellent dissertation, De Gasibus Pe~piexis, he immediately obtained the degree which his native city had churlishly refused him. I thus received the title of Doctor, he writes, in my twemity-first year, amidst general approval. For at the public 8 Gottfried TTTilhelin Leibnitz. [Jan. disputation I spoke so happily, and developed my thoughts with such clearness, that not only the auditors admired this new and, particularly in a lawyer, unusual sort of precision, but even my opponents expressed their extreme satisfaction One professor stated publicly that never yet had verses been spoken from the platform like those which I spoke at the pro- motion. So successful was he on this occasion, that efforts were made to retain him at the university as a professor; but Leibnitz had other objects in view, He remained during the winter in Nuremberg, studying the works of Kepler, Galileo, Bacon, Gassendi, and Descartes, perfecting his law studies, and in an odd way becoming also somewhat of a practical chemist. There was in Nuremberg a society of IRosicrucians, of which Leibnitz had a great inclination to become a member. But being, as he thought, too young and unknown to make admittance probable, he set to work to read various profound chemical and mystical works, noting the obscnrest phrases, and from them composing a letter to the president, which he himself could not understand. The president, however, was so overwhelmed by the learned nonsense, that he pronounced the writer one of the greatest chemists living, and not only invited him to join the society, but made him its secretary. It was while at Nnremberg, in the spring of 1GGT, that Leibnitz made the acquaintance of the celebrated statesman, Baron Boinebnrg, formerly prime-minister of the Elector John Philip of Mentz, but who now lived a retired life in Frank- fort, more devoted to the sciences than to politics. Boincbnrg soon recognized the genins and uncommon acquirements of the young lawyer, and at his solicitation Leibnitz accom- panied him to Frankfort. Leibnitz was then of rather an ambitious disposition, and immediately upon his arrival at Frankfort made himself thoroughly acquainted with the polit- ical complications then enveloping Enrope. In order to gain an entrance into political life he wrote his famous essay, Jllethodus Nova discenche docenda?que farisprudentiw, which he sent to the Elector of Mentz, proposing to supplement it by a chart which would enable any lawyer or judge to de- cide immediately any given ease of law according to the ft. ed principles of jurisprudence, a conception which, like other 1869.1 Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnilz. 9 projects, arose naturally from the fundamental idea already de- scribed, and set forth by him in De Arte Go in binatoria. John Philip was so much pleased with the essay, that he appointed Leibnitz to a somewhat lucratii~e office at his court, as assistant to Dr. Lasser in the elaboration of a reformed code of Roman law for the Electorate. Leibnitz soon made himself the chief of this work, although his time was largely taken up by labors in the interest of Boineburg. But his facility of labor fully equalled his extraordinary knowl- edge. Hence Boineburg was able to say of him: He is a young man of twenty-four years, learned beyond anything that can be said or believed. Philosophy he understands thoroughly; and he is a happy mediator between ancient and modern philosophy. He is a mathematician, knows physics and medicine, is very much devoted to mechanics, and exceed- ingly industrious and zealous. In religion he is self-reliant, but a member of the Lutheran Church. He is master of the principles of jurisprudence, and at the same time, what is re- inarkable, is well versed in the practice of the law. Besides his political and legal writings, Leibnitz, among other things, made a catalogue of Boineburgs extensive library, a cata- logue, writes Leibnitz himself, such as has never been seen before, that is, in the way of arrangement and for easy reference. During this time his name became so generally known throughout Germany, that he received repeated offers from different courts, all of which he declined; and after a few years his unremitting devotion to the interests of the Elector of Mentz was properly rewarded by his appointment as meiuber of the Chief Court of Appeal of the Electorate, the highest tribunal of that state. We have not space to dwell at length upon the particular relations of Leibnitz to Boineburg during this time. Suf- fice it to say that he supported with great acuteness both the political measures of this statesman, and his endeav- ors to bring about a reconciliation between the Protestants and Catholics. Throughout his life he followed up this lat- ter project with incredible perseverance, and it was indeed in discussions with Boineburg on the question of the real pres- ence of Christ in the host that he attained the first great 10 ~oltfried Wilhelm Leibnitz. [Jan. insight which in natural philosophy carried him beyond the standpoint of the Cartesians: for the Cartesian theory, that the whole essence of bodies consisted in figure, extension, and motion, was irreconcilable with the theory of both Catholics and Lutherans respecting the Eucharist. Leibnitz was thus led to investigate the problem whether the conception of a body is merely that of an extended moving figure or atom, and soon came to the conclusion that it was not, but that it also involved the characteristic of substantiality or self-activity, in short, the atoms became monads; and through this result he be- lieved that he had paved the way for a union of Protestants and Catholics, at least on the subject of the real presence, since the Protestant doctrine of the real presence seemed to him now identical with the Catholic dogma of transubstantiation. During the autumn of 1671, Leibnitz carried on a correspond- ence with the Jansenist Arnaud in Paris on this subject, a correspondence which caused M. du Fresne, the ambassador of the Elector at the French Court, to write of him as ce merveilleux Saxon, adding, Cest un prodige desprit d ~tonner les autres. But Boineburg did not put all Leibnitzs time in requisition for the discussion of theological questions. Important political problems demanded unusual measures. Louis XIV. threatened all Germany; and the Elector of Mentz was much disposed to resist his encroachments, and for that purpose to effect coalitions with the other German princes. But Boineburg, more prudent, strenuously insisted on pacific measures and friendly negotiations; and his reputation as a statesman of uncommon shrewdness gave to his advice, which was always sought, a peculiar influence. Leibnitz zealously supported the views of Boineburg, and at a meeting of the Electors of Mentz and Tr~ves, which Leibnitz attended with Boineburg, he elaborated an important memorial, which on the 8th of August, 1670, he submitted to these princes. In it he earnestly deprecated making an enemy of France, pointing out the dangers of such a policy for all the princes of the Rhine countries, but at the same time advo- cated an alliance of the German princes, which, though not openly directed against France, and hence unobjectionable to Got iftied Wilhelm Leibnitz. 11 Louis, might nevertheless serve to unite Germany against all future encroachments. After sketching the details of such an alliance, Leibnitz proceeds: Certainly, whoever elevates his view, and takes in the state of Europe with one glance, as it were, will concede that this alliance is one of the most useful projects ever invented for the general good of Christendom. Germany is the centre of Europe. Germa- ny has in past times always been a terror to her neighbors. But now that she is divided, France and Spain have grown formidable, and Holland and Sweden more powerful. Ger- many is the Eves-apple, as was Greece in former times, and in later times Italy. Germany is the ball thrown by those who play the game for a universal monarchy, and the battle-ground upon which the fight for the supremacy of Europe is waged. In short, Germany will not cease to be the subject of her own and of foreign shedding of blood, until she is aroused and united, and has thus taken away from all her wooers the hope of ever becoming her masters. Together with this alliance, Leibnitz conceived the plan of a union of all Chris- tendom against the Turks, Germany to undertake the war in Europe, and France in Egypt and Algiers. The more this plan was revolved in Leibnitzs mind, the more earnestly he cherished it. If Louis XIV. could be induced to undertake such an expedition against Egypt, Germany, he thought, would be safe from all danger from France. He communicated his scheme to Boineburg, who heartily indorsed it; and as Louis was then meditating his enterprise against Holland, Leib- nitz drew up an elaborate memorial, urging him to aban- don a direct war against the Dutch, and stating that the writer of the memorial knew of a project which, if under- taken by France, would quite as certainly, and with far less risk, destroy Holland by ruining her trade. This memorial was sent by Boineburg to Louis with a note, speaking of the author in favorable terms, and stating that the latter was ready to explain the project hinted at in a private inter- view. The king replied in the early part of 1672, through his Minister of Foreign Affairs, that he would be happy to learn the nature of the project from the author of the me- morial either in person or by letter. Excited to the bold- 12 Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz. [Jan. est hopes by this favorable answer, Leibnitz, on the 19th of INJarei, set out on his remarkable journey, with the following note from Baron Boineburg to Arnauld de Pomponne, the French Minister of Foreign Affairs. A MAYENCE, LE 15 Mars, 1672. MONSIEUR Yoilh celui que le Roi a demand6 par celle quil v~us a plu de mdcrire. Cest un homme qui, quoique lapparence ny soit pas, pourra fort bien effectuer ce quil promet, et dont je voudrais que les bonnes qualitds fussent uniquenlent appliqudes au service de sa Mtd pendant son sdjour aupr~s de vous. Je vous supplie de mi pr& er le bien de votre protection et votre faveur, et de perrnettre incessament, quil sexplique avec vous, on avec celui que le Roi commandera, le sujet nommd; dtant pr~t de rdpondre de plus au plus h tout cc quon en trouvera soumis h des difficultds, qui semblent au commencement un peu surprenantes et quasi insurinontables. La plupart et le fond et le sort de laffaire consiste dans le dernier secret et dans une mfire considdration des circonstances actuelles, laquelle soit par pidces bientOt achevde, sans quoi la chose parait sujette aux intrigues du temps. Vous apprdcierez donc mes instances, par lesquelles je vous prie de prendre un soin tr~s particulier, que cet homme soit entretenu sans bruit et sans discommoditd pour songer seuleinent it son fait, et quon Iui rende les avances, quil a rc~ues ici pour son voyage it Paris. Ii est seul avec un valet, na rien de son chef quil puisse contribuer, si non son dtude, sa fiddlitd, et son application, quil employcra par- faitement it lexdcution des ordres de sa Majestd. Je men remets it votre disposition, et vous assure de nouveau, quil ny a plus de personne, qui soit autant que je le suis, l~Ionsieur, Votre tri~s obdissant, & c., J. C. BARON DE BOINEBURG. The details of Leibnitzs interview with Louis XIV. have never been made public. His project was doubtless uncon- ditionally rejected by a monarch astute enough to see the true purpose which had prompted its suggestion. Nevertheless Leibnitz remained in Paris, partly on political duties for the Elector, and partly to transact some business affairs of Boine- burg. His leisure time he devoted to the acquisition of ad- ditional learning in the various branches of science and industry. He buried himself in the splendid libraries of Paris, made extensive historical researches, and, above all, Gotifried TViihelrn Leibnitz. 13 perfected his mathematical knowledge, which hitherto had been comparatively neglected. He visited the various large manu- factories of the city, watched the operations of the laborers, and sought to make himself acquainted with all the details of their arts, often courting the personal acquaintance of the workmen, in order to learn from them professional minuthe. Through his wonderful art of combining, he was always ready with practical applications of his fundamental principle, and his head thus became filled with innumerable inven- tions and projects of inventions. Having heard of Pascals calculating-machine, he at once set about the invention of one far more perfect, and which won for him the admira- tion of the scientific men of Paris. He intended to add to it a geometrical calculating-machine, with which it would be easy to calculate all conceivable figures and lines of what- ever curve, together with an instrument to enable navigators to discover their whereabouts at sea without the aid of sun, moon, or stars. He also invented a ship, to be driven by compressed water, which could sail against any storm, be- sides various other machines, which he mentions at length in a letter to the Duke of Brunswick-Liineburg. He was inter- rupted in these labors by news of the death of his friend Boi- neburg, in 1673, which obliged him to leave Paris for Lon- don on political affairs and business matters, of the Boineburg family. But he had been scarcely a month in London, when be was recalled by the still sadder news of the death of the Elector of Mentz. He did not return home, however, but obtained leave to remain in Paris, where he continued his studies with a zeal heightened by his short stay in England, and his introduction to some of the famous scientific men of that country. Through his political position he formed an extensive acquaintance in the French capital, and obtained access to the highest circles of society. He thus perfected his knowledge of the French language, then in its bloom under Racine and Molit~re, and a relish for the life of a great me- tropolis, which made him resolve to buy a state office and per- manently settle down in Paris. He therefore twice declined an offer from the Duke of Brunswick-Liineburg of a position at his court; and it wa~ not until lie found himself unable to pur 14 Got ifried Wilhelm Leibnitz. [Jan. chase the office he desired his family having refused an ad- vance of money for this purpose, from the fear that he would join the Catholic Church, if he remained in Paris that he accepted the Dukes third offer. He left France for Hanover in 1676, just at the time when he had hit upon the discovery of the Differential Calculus, by applying the same principle to geometry which in De Arte Cornbinatoria he had announced as applicable to number. The calculation of infinite quantities was a difficulty which to mathematicians had always seemed insurmountable, there appearing to be no possible method of handling them, except in an indefinite way. Every determined quantity is a finite quantity, so ran the argument, and hence to have an infi- nite quantity is to have an undetermined quantity, or nothing. The problem was, therefore, to show the possibility of handling infinite quantities and relations of quantities in a determinate manner, and hence with the same absolute certainty as finite quantities. Leibnitz solved the problem by showing that finite and infinite are merely terms reciprocally determining each other; that the infinite is therefore as much determined as the finite, and the finite as much undetermined as the infinite. If we take, for instance, the fraction 1 we can resolve it 3, at once into the infinite series 0.3333 . . . , which we can never compass, which ever eludes our grasp because imagi- nation always extends it, and which is therefore called by Spinoza an infinite of the imagination. On the other hand, we can again change this infinite series into the determined rela- tion ~-, which is then an actual infinite, but can be taken hold of like any finite. In like manner the finite 2 can be resolved into the infinite series 1 + ~ I-- + ~, etc. The fundamental principle upon which this interchange of the termsfinite and in- finite rests Leibnitz developed at length, and it may be concisely expressed as resulting from the fact that the ego must always limit itself by positing a non-ego, a finite, in order to appre- hend itself as the infinite. Hence, likewise, we can posit space both as a determined totality, an actual infinite, (like ~ above,) and as an undetermined infinite series, an imaginary infinite and hence also and it was this consideration which led Leib- nitz to his doctrine of Monads we may regard every smallest Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz. 15 particle in the universe as not only an atom, a non-ego, but likewise as a monad, or ego. To make possible a calculation of infinite quantities, there- fore, all that is necessary is to change the infinite of the imagi- nation into a determined relation; and in that manner, although we never may know all the links of a series like 1 j + 1 } ... , we know, that, however far this series may extend, it will always havethe determined relation~ ~ 1 ~ precisely as, after all possible relations between the ego and non-ego have been deduced, we know that every possible event or fact in the universe is subsumable under one of those re- lations, although the infinitely possible links of such events or facts must remain forever unknown to us. A still greater difficulty, however, than the calculation of infinite quantities in number is presented by the problem of the calculation of infinite quantities in extension; and hence it was quite natural that Leibnitz should have finished his arithmetical calculating-machine before hitting upon the in- vention of a geometrical calculating-machine. For number embraces merely on~ sort of infinity, namely, that of time, but geometry adds to it the infinity, of space; and it is upon the combination of these two kinds of infinity that the famous puzzles of Achilles and the tortoise, of the squaring of the circle, of the impossibility of motion, etc., rest. Thus, if the sides of a square are lengthened, the area of the square increases in a certain proportion to the increase of the length of the sides. Through arithmetic this ratio can of course be computed for a determined increase. If the length of the sides increase, for instance, from ten to eleven feet, the area has increased from one hundred to one hundred and twenty- one feet. But this ratio is for a determined time, and is not the absolute ratio; nor is it possible for mere arithmetical analysis ever to fix this ratio absolutely. Achilles can never catch the tortoise, since time and space are equally infinitely divisible. By seizing this difficulty, and demonstrating how a finite formula may with absolute correctness express this in- finite relation between two factors, Leibnitz established the Differential Calculus. And here it also clearly appears how [Jan. 1G Gottfried IVilJtelm Leibnitz. Leibnitz was necessarily led to say, that, although everything else can be rednced to mathematics, mathematics must be based upon philosophy; since the conception of pure relation, without any regard to actual quantity, and yet applicable to all quantity, the science of mathematics can in no way obtain from itself. Before proceeding to Hanover, Leibnitz revisited London, and upon his return passed through Amsterdam, where lie called on Spinoza, the sun of whose life was then near setting. At Hanover many efforts were at first made to convert him to the Roman Catholic Church, but his courteously firm rejection of these overtures soon put a stop to further attempts. In 1678, the Duke of Brunswick-Liineburg, in recognition of his many labors in the interest of science and the country, the extent and variety of which appear almost incredible, conferred upon him the rank of Councillor, which made him a member of the Supreme Court. Besides the judicial duties of this office, the political cares which devolved upon him as friend and general counsellor to the Duke, and his voluminous correspondence in favor of church union, Leibnitz took al- most exclusive charge of the extensive mining operations which the Duke was then conducting in the Hartz. He stud- ied not only the practical details of the art of mining, but likewise miiieralogy in general, and thus was soon led to a study of comparative geology, a science tiieii scarcely known. He made extensive collections, sought information as to the structure of the earth in all quarters to which his corresi)Ond- ence extended, and worked out a detailed plan for a geological examination of all Europe. In like manner he began to interest himself in the study of philology, and to ijivestigate the con- struction of languages. Amidst these labors lie yet fouiid time to write his work, De fare Suprernatus Principam Germ anne, wherein he developed his views on law, politics, and religion. In 1679 the Duke of Brunswick-Liineburg died, and was succeeded by his Protestant brother, Ernst August, after- wards Elector of Hanover. Leibnitz nevertheless retained his position and continued his labors as before, nor did he re- lax his efforts in behalf of a reunion of the churches. His extensive correspondence shows his earnest interest in this cause; and the basis upon which lie hoped to perfect it is 1869.] Got ifried Wilhelm Leibnitz. 17 perhaps best exhibited in a small pamphlet which he had elab- orated as a sort of philosophical statement of the Catholic dogmas. In most matters he certainly leaned more to the Catholic than to the Protestant side, particularly in the matter of church organization, which was indeed the chief object he had in view in his agitation of this subject: for Leibnitz could not hold a theoretical conviction without immediately endeav- oring to realize it in practice. His conviction of a moral world within the natural was the breath of his life; and this moral world could find realization only in the Church, particularly as all forms of civil government were in his time rotten to the very core. It seems to have been the great dream of his life to labor for the establishment of such a compact church organi- zation of all Christendom as the Catholic Churcb in some de- gree possessed, and by extending it through missions all over the world, and ma king it likewise the protector of science, to constitute it effectively the ruling power of the earth. Hence in his work on jnrisprndence, before mentioned, he does not treat law separately, as a pure and complete science in itself such as Fichte in later days set forth in his Science of iRights, but in connection with and subordination to morality or the Church. But all these labors have faded out of sight in comparison with Leibnitzs important achievements in the field of mathe- matics during this time, beginning with his discovery of the Differential Calculus, which he made public in 1684, and fol- lowed up by applying that Calculus to the various branches of science, and inviting all fellow-laborers to free and generous competition. Two years later, in 1686, Newton published his Principia, and it is of interest to observe the persistent oppo- sition which Leibnitz made to Newtons theory of gravitation, announced therein. Not that Leibnitz denied the validity of that theory, so far as it involved a mathematical truth; but what annoyed him was the term attraction, as implying an actually existing and occult force, operative in the various planets and stars. The conception of such a force he held to be an absurdity, since no ground could be assigned for it. Hence, in his letters to Dr. Clarke, Leibnitz was always very careful to add to his objection to the theory of attraction, VOL. cviii.No. 222. 2 18 Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz. [Jan. when we take that force in its scholastic sense. For how, he writes, can it be shown that the sun attracts the earth through vacant space? Is it God through whom this attraction is effected? This would certainly be a greater miracle than any other. Or are there some immaterial sub- stances, or certain rays of spirit or something else, which serves as such a means of attraction? According to Dr. Clarke, the force of attraction is invisible, not susceptible to touch or sensation, and not mechanical. I might add at once that it is an inexplicable, incomprehensible force, ac- cepted without proof, having no ground, and not to be con- firmed by any example. But, says Dr. Clarke, it obeys a certain order, is constant, and hence natural. I reply, that it cannot be regular, if it is not at the same time rational, and that it cannot be rational, unless it can be explained through the nature of things It is a pure thought of the brain, an occult quality of the Schoolmen. * Now in this argument Leibnitz is as correct as Newton is in his theory. One body moving around another, no matter in what curve, may be viewed as moving in obedience to two forces, its own centrifugal force, which always remains the same, and an attractive, centripetal force of the central body, which varies with the squares of the distances. From this necessity of viewing the motion arises the a priori certainty of Newtons theory, which, precisely because it is purely a priori and mathematical, is indisputable and universally valid. At the same time it is equally clear that thi~ is merely a mode of viewing a phenomenon, (a pure thought of the brain,) and Newton was very careful never to claim any- thing more for it. Nor do modern astronomers pretend that there are actually such centrifugal and attractive forces. Me- chanically and mechanically we must view all Nature, when we want to explain it upon natural grounds there is only one force, which occurs through one body impelling another, and such a force will always impel bodies in straight lines. As Leibnitz expresses it: Matter is an incomplete affair; * Swedenborg, in his Principia, also opposes Newtons theory with great energy, on nearly the same grounds. Got (fried Wilhelm Leibnitz. 19 it shows merely the source of an act. Hence, if an impres- sion be given to a particle of matter, that particle compre- hends nothing beyond this impression. Therefore matter is not capable of observing a circular movement, if left to itself; since such a movement is not simple enough for matter to recollect it, if I may say so. Matter can only recall what happened to it in the last moment, or rather in ultimo signo rationis, that is to say, the direction in the tangent, and cannot recall a rule for moving away from this tangent, which it would be necessary for it to do, if it should always con- tinue in a circular movement. Hence bodies follow no circu- lar movement, although they may have begun it, unless there is a special cause for their doing so. Thus an atom can move only in a straight line, it is so very simple and imperfect. But quite different is it with the soul which not only remembers its movement, like the atom, but likewise (lie rule of a change from this movement, or the law of the curve, which an atom cannot remember. Leibnitz, with that firm conviction of mechanical order in the universe which resulted from his view of the relation between mathematics and philosophy, could not possibly admit a force in Natuie not reducible to mechanical impulse, and therefore held it incumbent upon a thorough philosophy of Nature to ex- plain all movements in Nature by mechanical causes. Hence all rotary, or rather spiral, movement was looked upon by him as the final result of various impulses acting upon a body, and the famous theory of vortices was regarded as the only one which had truth in it, however conveniently Newtons theory might come in as an easier means of calculation. Leibnitz consequently clung all his lifetime firmly to that theory of vortices which Descartes had elaborated, and which perhaps no one has supported with so much profundity, or exhibited in its applicability throughout Nature with more erudition, than Swedenborg, in hisalmost unknown Principia. How un- satisfactory Newtons postulated force is, when regarded in the scholastic sense, that is, as an actually existing force attracting bodies through space, probably all students have experienced; and some astronomers still hold it probable, or at least possible, that there may be bodies in the universe of which that force cannot be predicated. 20 Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz. [Jan. But what made Newtons theory still more objectionable to Leibnitz was its denial of the law of continuity, and asser- tion of empty space. To the mind of Leibnitz it was an absurdity to speak of space without matter filling it, or as anything more than the mere product of our imagination. If space were aught else than the mere order of things, he says, we should never be able to show why God placed bodies in it as He did, and not rather in the reverse order, why, for instance, He did not make the sunrise sunset, and vice versa. But precisely because space is nothing but the order or relation of thiugs to each other can we show clearly the ground of this order: for no matter how He had arranged it, we should see it in the same manner; the two status, namely, the universe as it now appears to us, and the universe as it would be if reversed in order, would be one and the same. The distinction between the present order and the reverse would be only in our imagination; in point of fact there would be no distinction at all, and hence no one would have any right to ask why one state of things was preferred by God to another. This argument, which Fichte also loves to use, Leibnitz ap- plies likewise to those who foolishly ask why God cr6ated the world at a certain time, and not long before. Of course, he replies, if time were anything else than the order of things which happen in it, no reason could be assigned why God did not create the world before He did. But when we show that a beginning of the world is a beginning, no matter at what time we place it, the whole question why it was not at another time becomes absurd. By the same argument he loves to demonstrate the infinity of space and matter. For show me, he asks, a sufficient reason why matter should not be everywhere. And in another place he argues; rather more in a theological way, Let us assume that God did actually put all the perfections into things which He could put into them without detracting from their other per- fections. Now let us imagine an empty space, and we shall find that God could certainly have placed matter in it without taking in the least from the other things. Hence He must have done so; and hence there can be no perfectly empty Got Ifried Wilhelm Leibnitz. 21 space The same conclusion proves, moreover, that there can nowhere be a smallest body which is not again divisible into more bodies For the perfection of mat- ter is related to the perfection of empty space as something to nothing; and the same holds good of indivisible atoms. What ground could, indeed, be brought to show that Nature must have an end, where it can no longer divide? Such no- tions are pure inventions, based upon our arbitrariness, and unworthy of true philosophy. The whole direction of English literature at that time could not, indeed, but be unsatisfactory to the comprehensive mind of Leibnitz. For in England, as in our own country at pres- ent, only two one-sided tendencies of mind had been devel- oped: the one a Puritan orthodoxy, believing in an enthroned man-God, who ruled the world according to a capricious pleas- ure, and of this tendency Newtons system showed the un- mistakable influence; the other a materialistic scepticism, represented by the school of Locke. Admirably has Leib- nitz criticised Locke in one of his letters. He says: He did not clearly see into the nature of the mind and of truth. Had he sufficiently considered the distinction between necessary truths, or truths which can be demonstrated, and those truths at which we arrive through induction to a certain degree, he would have perceived that necessary truths can be proved only from principles ingrafted in the mind, or from innate ideas; for although the senses teach us what occurs, they do not teach us what occurs necessarily. In other words, only a priori truths are known; all a posteriori facts are merely assumed with a greater or less degree of certainty. And again: Nor has Locke observed that the conceptions of Being, of Substance, of the One and the Same, of the True and the Good, are inborn in our minds, because the mind is itself inborn in itself, and in itself apprehends all this. For nihil est in intellectu, quod non fuerit in sensu, nisi ipse intel- lectus. In conferring upon Leibnitz a judicial office, it had been specially agreed that its duties should never interfere with his more important scientific labors. Hence, when, in 1687, it was deemed advisable to send him to Italy, (as Goethe a cen 22 Got Ifried Wilhelm Leibnitz. [Jan. tury later was in somewhat similar manner sent,) it was easy to procure leave of absence from his court. Various motives had inspired the project of this journey, some of a political nature, and looking to an improvement of the prospects then opening for the Houses of Brandenburg and Hanover, the Princess Sophia Charlotte of Hanover, Leibnitzs pupil, having married the Prince of Brandenburg, future king of Prussia, togeth- er with others, to Leibnitz probably the most important, of a generally scientific nature; but the chief purpose of the jour- ney, and around which all other objects centred, was to collect materials for a history of the House of Brunswick from its earliest origin. Leibnitz proposed to make this a work such as should not have its like in all literature, and it in fact became the great work of his life, although, strange to say, it has never been printed, and is still, with many other unpub- lished manuscripts of his, rotting in the Hanoverian Library. With a view to secure the requisite materials, Leibnitz travelled slowly through Germany, visiting libraries and cloisters, ex- amining tombstones, and picking up all sorts of curious infor- mation. He also visited the manufactories, noted any origi- nal productions and modes of workmanship, and made the acquaintance of such men as had a repute for learning or eminence in any branch of science. The libraries of Vienna, where he arrived in May, 1688, were a perpetual delight to him; and nothing can give a better insight into the wonderful industry, ease of labor, and many-sidedness of the man, than to observe him, during his stay in Vienna, intriguing for the House of Brandenburg, corresponding in the interest of a union of the churches, visiting the gold mines of Hungary, copying a Hebrew ~writing in the great library for a Rabbi friend whom he had met on his travels, and offering to copy with his own hand a rare Greek work for the library of Col- bert, the French Minister of War. In January, 1689, he left for Venice, where he visited the quicksilver mines. On his return, in crossing in a boat, a storm arose, and he heard the sailors, who did not know that he understood Italian, agree among themselves to throw the heretic overboard, as the probable cause of the storm. Whereupon he quietly drew a rosary out of his pocket, and began counting the beads, Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz. 23 whence the sailors concluded, that, being evidently a pious Catholic, the storm could not be owing to him. His sojourn in IRome was almost one prolonged ovation, and this not simply from the admiration inspired by his celeb- rity and genius, but also because of his courteous, amiable be- havior, endearing him to everybody. There was not a learned society in the city which did not elect him a member. Nay, the important position of custodian to the great library of the Vatican, with the prospect of a cardinals hat, was offered him, on the sole condition that he should join the Catholic Church, which of course made him decline it. All the treasures of the various libraries and public institutions were placed at his disposal. These courtesies Leibnitz richly repaid. He ex- erted himself to reconcile the Church with Science, and to convince the Catholic clergy that the cause of religion and the progress of the natural sciences do not conflict with, but rather support, each other. With much zeal he pointed out the im- mense advantages which might be drawn from the cloisters, by employing the monks to gather astronomical, geological, philological, and other observations, and make experiments. He insisted that their piety would thus be increased, and that knowledge would advance more in ten than it had done in the past hundred years, if his plan were carried out. With missions established all over the globe, Leibnitz had hopes that a grand and comprehensive scientific organization might thus be realized. He arranged a permanent correspondence with the famous Jesuit missionary Grimaldi, who was then leaving Italy for China, pointing out to him the vast importance of a comparative study of languages, and particularly of the lan- guages of Asia. For Grimaldi he also elaborated his science of IDyadics with 0 and 1, wherewith to prove to the Chinese the creation of the world out of nothing. His curious letter on the subject of this proof, accompanying a medal made for the emperor of China, is published in Erdmanns edition of his works. From IRome, Leibnitz went to Naples, and thence to Florence, arriving at the close of the year at Modena, the real end of his travels, where he discovered, as he had expected, the con- nection between the German house of Brunswick and the 24 Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz. [Jan. Italian house DEste, and, moreover, assisted in arranging a marriage between the Dnke of Modena and the Princess Char- lotte of Brunswick-Wolfenbiittel. He returned to Hanover by way of Vienna, and shortly after his return was appointed custodian of the Wolfenbiittel Library, made famous in later days through Lessing. Of his many labors, during this period, he thus speaks, in a letter dated September, 1695. It is scarcely to be expressed how extraordinarily diversified my activity is. I hunt np various matters in the archives, and examine old papers, or collect unpublished manuscripts, with a view to gain more light for my history of the House of Bruns- wick. I receive and reply to a very large number of letters; and I have so many new things in mathematics, so many thoughts in philosophy, and so many other literary observa- tions, which I would not like to see perish, that often I do not know what I ought to do first. It is twenty years since the French and English first saw my calculating-machine, and since then Oldenburg, Huygens, Arnaud, and others have frequently requested me to publish a description of it; yet I have always postponed doing so, because I had only a small model of the machine, sufficient for the demonstration of the mechanism, but not for common use. But above all things I should like to complete my Dynamics, wherein I believe I have discovered the true laws of material Nature, and by means of which I can solve problems concerning the ac- tivity of bodies, which previous rules are unable to solve. My friends, who have a knowledge of the higher geometry founded by me, urge me to publish my Science of the Infinite, which contains the basis of my new analysis. Add to this many general matters of invention. But all these labors, except the historical ones, I do by stealth, as it were: for you know that politicians seek and expect quite other things. In another letter on the same subject he closes with these memorable words: If you consider all this well, you will doubtless pardon my neglect, and will wish that I had assistants, young men, and other friends of learning, talent, and industry, who might help me. For I can suggest many things, but I cannot myself carry out everything that suggests itself to me; and cheerfully would I leave this to others, if they could thereby obtain glory, pro- Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz. 25 vided it would serve the commonwealth, the welfare of the human race, and thus the glory of God. Ernst August, who had in 1692 become Elector of Han- over, died in 1698; and although his successor, George, future king of England, retained Leibnitz in his position, the charm which the Hanoverian court had hitherto possessed for him was now gone. Under the new r~girne little inter- est was manifested in science or general culture. Leibnitz, therefore, gratefully accepted permission temporarily to follow his former pupil, the Princess Sophia Charlotte, to Berlin. Here he established the scientific society which has since grown into the famous university, and lent all his energies to assist in the development of the embryo kingdom. He showed much zeal in attempting to introduce the culture of silk, caused measures to be adopted for the more thorough study of medicine and anatomy, and with persevering energy urged the establishment of Protestant missions in China. He also spent much time to realize what even at this day seems an impossibility, a social union of all learned men for the ad- vancement of science, each one to attend to a particular department, in order to insure thoroughne~s and systematic progress. His Projet de lEducation dun Prince was written about this time. In it he developed his ideas upon education, tak- ing ground in opposition to the purely classical system then in vogue. Time is life, says Leibnitz, in that most interest- ing work, alluding to the necessity of educating a prince in the practical sciences, a significant variation of the maxim, Time is money. He adds: The great use of money is, that it enables us to gain time through the assistance of oth- ers, and by this addition, moreover, reverses the latter say- ing into Money is time. On this subject of education he wrote thus to a friend who had urged him to lend his aid in behalf of the cause of education in Germany. Whenever I meditate upon the ways of promoting the gen- eral welfare, I always arrive at the same conclusion which you correctly hold, that the human race will perfect itself whenever the education of the young shall have been reformed. But this is not possible without the aid of those men who, 26 Got Ifried Wilhelm Leilinzitz. [Jan. through their position, knowledge, and good-will, are promi- nent in a country. The Jesuits could have accomplished great things, particularly as their projects had the support of relig- ion; but looking at their results to-day, we must confess that they remained below mediocrity. Amongst ourselves those who undertake similar efforts lack assistance, and their labors are treated with contempt. Nay, although there is nothing more important to religion and piety than education, still piety shows it no favor, and religion no reverence. I have often thought that a society might be formed by those who in dif- ferent places exhibit zeal and knowledge. But mutual ac- quaintance and connection are wanting, and many who hold certain opinions demand that all others should indorse them. Thus, while they have the same end in view, they stand opposed to each other through a pitiable error; where- as, if they understood each other, most of their wishes could be realized. In fOO Leibnitz again went to Vienna, partly to negotiate some matters in connection with the establishment of the new kingdom of Prussia, and partly to make a further attempt to unite the Protestant and Catholic churches. He returned to Berlin at the end of the next year; and at that time made the acquaintance of his future great scholar, Wolff. In Berlin he began to feel the influence of English scepticism, which had already worked its way considerably into France, particularly through Bayle, the precursor of Voltaire, and was now begin- ning to take root also in Germany. To the comprehensive mind of Leibnitz the shallow reasoning of this scepticism could not be otherwise than repugnant. He felt called upon to combat it, and to vindicate the eternal truths of Christianity against the attacks of Locke and Bayle, as Kant defended them many years later against Hume and Voltaire. Leibnitz was not a one-sided partisan, however, lie did full justice to the materialistic views of his adversaries. Their whole case could not be stated more fairly than he states it in the follow- ing passage. I have found that the majority of sects are in the right, as regards a good portion of what they assert, but not as regards what they deny. Thus the formalists, as the Platonists and Got ifried Wilhelm Leibnitz. 27 Aristotelians, are in the right when they find the origin of things in the final and formal causes; but they are wrong when they neglect the effective material causes, and conclude that there are appearances which cannot be mechanically explained. On the other hand, the materialists are wrong in rejecting all metaphysical studies, and in pretending to explain everything through the action of the imagination. I flatter myself that I have penetrated into the harmony of the various sciences, and have seen that both parties are in the right: that everything in the appearances of Nature occurs at the same time both mechanically and metaphysically, but that metaphysics is the source of mechanics. It was not easy to discover this mystery, for there are few who take pains to unite these two studies. Descartes did so, but not sufficiently. He had adventured too rashly in most of his dogmas, and it may be said that his philosophy stands in the antechamber of truth. Leibnitzs public opposition to the materialistic tendencies of English empiricism was due to the solicitations of the queen of Prussia, who had been reading with him Lockes Essay concerning Human Understanding, and Bayles famous Dic- tionary. She incited him to reply to their arguments, and he was thus led to write his Nouveaux Essais and his Th~odic~e. The former work he did not finish before the death of Locke, and, with rare considerateness, refused to publish it, now that the man who was to have refuted it was dead; the latter has gained a celebrity even beyond that of the Monadology. But the noble queen to whom he dedicated the Th~odic~e died soon after, in 1705, to see with my own eyes, as she said, those things which I have so often discussed with Leib- nitz. The death of the queen was a sore blow to him. He now busied himself more than ever with science, leaving no occasion neglected to advance its cause. Thus, when; in 1711, he met Peter the Great at Torgau, he induced that far-sighted monarch to have observations on the magnetic declination undertaken throughout his dominions, to found libraries and observatories, and to make common the latest useful inven- tions. Peter was so much interested in Leibnitz, that the next year he invited him to a second conference at Carlsbad, ap- pointing him at the same time Councillor, with a considerable 28 aottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz. [Jan. pension. In 1716 Leibnitz met the Czar once more, full of admiration, as he writes, not only for the humanity, but also for the rich mass of knowledge and the quick judgment of this monarch. In 1T14 Leibnitz visited Vienna for the last time, a visit which resulted in the most famous and complete of his works, the Monadology, which he wrote for Prince Eugene, who held it so precious that he kept the manuscript in a locked box as a sacred relic. This magnificent poem, as some Frenchman calls it not improperly, was Leibnitzs swan-song. Soon after it was finished, his master, the Elector George, who was then about to leave for England to assume the regal crown, ordered him to return home at once and attend to his official duties. Leibnitz had entertained hopes of accompanying his master, but the Elector was somewhat displeased with him, and did not respond favorably. Leibnitz arrived in Hanover too late for a personal interview. He therefore settled down quietly, took up his life-work, the History of the House of Brunsxvick, which he finished; and in the midst of some scientific labors, whereof he himself said, Ce si~cle nest point fait pour les recevoir, death overtook him, on the 14th of November, 1716. Not a single courtier, not even a clergyman, no one but his friend Eckhard, followed him to the grave. In passing from a review of the life of the man to his so- called system, no better method of effectively represent- ing what is characteristic of this system seems possible than to take up separately the distinguishing points upon which he has laid most stress in his writings. Among these stands foremost The Principle of the Sufficient Ground. The significance of this principle is best explained by Leibnitz in his second letter to Clarke, where, alluding to Clarkes assertion that the doctrines of the materialists do much to support wickedness and infidelity, Leibnitz replies, that this cannot well be so, as long as the materialists remain logically within the limits of mathematical science, and do not contradict themselves by entering the field of speculation to prove speculation im Got Ifried Wilhelm Leibnitz. 29 possible. The materialists, he says, are not so much at fault in the mathematical principles of science, since these same principles are upheld by, and are valid for, Christian philoso- phers, as in the fact that they do not go beyond matter; whereas Christians assert a substance as the ground of matter. The materialists accept the existence of matter as manifest- ed through the senses as an indisputable fact, and reject all further questioning concerning the ground of such matter. They are therefore worshippers of authority, and dogmatic, holding up, as they do, something incomprehensible as the ultimate of human knowledge. But true philosophy asks for the sufficient ground of matter, and in the course of its inves- tigations discovers this ground to be the ego (or monad) ; and since the ego could not be an ego, if it could show a higher ground for itself, it is the sufficient cause for itself, and all inquiry for a higher cause is now cut off, not by the positing of an ultimate incomprehensible, but by establishing that the inquiry cannot at all be rationally put in the case of the ego, and hence by the same proof that establishes the ideality of time and space. Leibnitz develops this in the above letter by the following statement. The fundamental principle of mathematics is the principle of contradiction or of identity, namely, that a propo- sition cannot be both false and true, and that, if A be A, it cannot be at the same time not-A. This principle alone, he says, is sufficient for the proof of arithmetic and geom- etry, or of all mathematical science But in the higher region this principle does not suffice, as I have shown in my Theodic~e. There we need another, namely, that of the sufficient ground, which must show why this is so, and not rather otherwise (i. e. why A is A, and why it cannot be at the same time not-A). Even Archimedes, therefore, when proceeding from mathematics to physics, establishes in his book De ~Equilibrio a particular instance of the principium con- venientiw. He accepts as certain that the two arms of a scale, if exactly balanced, will be at rest, because there is no sufficient ground why one arm should fall below the other. Through this one principle of a sufficient ground, natural re- ligion, or the science of metaphysics, proves a Divinity; nay, 30 Got ifried Wilhelm Leibnitz. [Jan. in a certain manner, through it we confirm the first principles of the natural sciences, in so far as they are not based upon mathematics, as, for instance, the doctrine of dynamics, or of the forces of motion. Nowhere does the harmony of the philosophy of Leibnitz with Fichtes Science of Knowledge appear with greater clear- ness than in this letter. The very example of A = A and not-A not = A, is the one from which the Science of Knowledge proceeds, asking, as is proper, for its ground, and showing that ground to be, The ego posits itself, and posits at the same time a non-ego. The great obstacle which prevents the acceptance of this settlement, and therewith the recognition of the Science of Knowledge, is this, that every one asks again for the sufficient ground of the self-positing of the ego. But the inquiry is absurd, since the conception of the ego and the con- ception of self-positing are identical, and since, consequently, the inquiry demands, in point of fact, the sufficient ground why the ego should not be self-contradictory. This strict reductio ad abs ardum Leibnitz applies everywhere to prove contested points, and Fichte has employed it in the same manner; yet such is the self-distrustful character of men, that they cannot content themselves with the independence of reason, but must go on and ask why reason should be independent, by that very question thinking of it again as dependent. The next most important principle of Leibnitzs system is his Doctrine of lllionads. To apprehend this famous doctrine correctly, it is necessary to remember that in all philosophi- cal inquiries the question should be, not what this or that is, but how we must view it. Thus it will appear, that, pre- cisely as in physical science we must view all matter as com- posed of infinitely small particles or molecules, so must we also view the ego as present everywhei~e, and in this omni- presence in space we must view it as an infinite space full of ego-points, or ego-atoms, limited by equally infinite atoms of matter. For the ego, being an infinite activity, or self-posit- ing, posits itself everywhere. And since, in order to posit itself, it must limit itself, it posits not only itself, but also a limiting matter. In so far as it posits itself everywhere, it 1869.] Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz. 31 posits all matter infinitely divisible or porous; in so far as it posits matter, it posits an infinite number of atoms. The con- ception of every possible point of concentration of the ego is the conception of a monad; and as thus all possible individ- ual points of the ego differ only in position, it follows both that all must have the same world, and that each must be dif- ferent from the others. For the ego is in every one altogether the same, and being nothing but the power of self-positing and whatsoever this self-positing involves, it in each one develops itself according to the same order and laws, an exhaustive rep- resentation of which laws results in a science of the ego or of knowledge. But the ego is likewise in every one of these monads determined differently, through the limit; and hence, in so far as every monad is not pure ego, but determined through a non-ego, it differs from every other. No two mon- ads are alike in so far as they are determined through a non-ego; but they are all one and the same in so far as they are pure ego. In so far as they are pure ego, they posit the pure ego, and are thus equal; but in so far as through their dark consciousness they posit matter, in order to arrive at clear consciousness through it, to use the words of Leibnitz, they are unequal. Infinitely filling up all infinite space, and each monad self- active, that is, a motive power, there thus arises the concep- tion of infinite directions of motion crossing each other, each, however, a direction in a straight line, and straying from it only in obedience to another direction.* The science of these motions is the science of mechanics, and explains the whole universe. Each monad is thus impelled by all other monads; and if each had complete self-consciousness of all the deter- minations which thus occur in it through motion, each would have a complete knowledge of the whole universe. But as each has clearest consciousness only of what happens up to its limit, that is, within its body, and more and more dim con- sciousness of motions which occur at greater distances from that body, a dim consciousness which may be said to be the reason why the monad creates matter, there arises that fa- Ficlite also describes the ego as a power of line-drawing. 32 Cot ifried Wilhelm Leibnitz. [Jan. mous gradation of monads which extends from the lowest worm to the highest seraph. All possible monads (and every dust- speck is an infinity of monads, and the distinction between organic and inorganic matter is wholly arbitrary, since the whole universe is one infinite mass of living beings) are dis- tinct from each other as monads only in this greater or less degree of consciousness. There is no death in the universe, nor is there perfect creation, but everywhere development into self-consciousness and self-determination. There is no increase nor decrease of matter, nor is there any increase or decrease of force; for every infinite atom of matter, being a monad, has an infinite force or self-activity. Force is never destroyed: for a monad cannot be destroyed: only its relation changes, and the whole interchange of forces is like changing large money into small. There is only one force: for all monads are alike: but this force has greater or less degrees of movement, and through this difference of movement one force changes into an infinite number of cor- related forces, and every monad becomes different from every other. From the conception of a self-active concentration- point,* moving and re-moving its self-posited limitation, from this pure conception of a line-drawing ego, the whole structure of the universe explains itself, with its wonderful variety of motion, which motion changes according to this variety into heat, or electricity, or light, or tree, or stone, or sun, or star, or the nebuhe of Orion. In the concentration- point of the ego everywhere, in the mind of every man, the everlasting order of the stars moves on its course, and the history of the whole race accomplishes itself. Not only does the quantity of force remain the same, how- ever, but likewise the direction of that force, a point which Descartes had overlooked, and hence arises the third great principle of the Pre-established Harmony. For if, in Nature, not only the sum of force and its manifestation, but likewise the sum of its It is interesting to compare Swedenborgs Natural Point in his Principia with Leibnitzs Monad, as also the Maximus Homo of his theological works with Leibnitzs Highest Monad, and his Law of Correspondence with Leibnitzs Pre- established Harmony. Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz. 33 directions, must be viewed as always remaining the same, only the sum of motion increasing and decreasing in mechanical order, it follows that every movement in Nature, in so far as it has a direction, may be viewed as purely the result of a me- chanical force; and since it will be possible to trace it thus to a mechanical source, it will be impossible to prove it to be originated by the self-conscious soul. If every movement of and through our body can thus be explained as the result of the universal mechanical law of motion, clearly our body operates as if there were no soul in it, and our soul as if there existed no body. Hence the possibility of a pure mathemat- ical science of Nature, without reference to a God or soul as a power in Nature, and of an explanation of all possible phe- nomena upon mechanical principles. But this would exclude all relations between the monads as such, that is, as concentration-points of the pure ego. No ego could ever become conscious of itself, if the movements of Nature could be explained altogether by the law of mechanics. The ego could not be for itself an ego, and, since it is ego only in so far as it is for itself, could not be at all. The ques- tion arises, How can the characteristic of intention or the con- ception of an end find expression in movements which can be comprehended at the same time as purely mechanical? And the answer is: Absolutely because it can. There is a harmony between the world of rational ends and mechanical changes in Nature which makes this possible; and this harmony is ab- solute, has no external ground. When a rational being sees a piece of material Nature which has been moulded for the expression of some rational end, that expression makes itself absolutely known to the beholder.* To ask how would be absurd; since, if you could assign a ground, you would be mere- ly pushing a new link between reason and matter, without at all making the relation between reason and the new link clearer. Thus you might continue to ask for a further ground, and insert new links, without at all approaching nearer to the solution. On account of the absoluteness of this relation be- tween mind and matter, Leibnitz usually terms it a harmony; * Compare Ficlites Science of Rights. VOL. cviii.No. 222. 3 34 Gottfried Willtelm Leibnitz. [Jan. and it is this harmony which shows how we must view the existence of a world of the pure ego within a world of pure mechanism. The world of mechanism corresponds, as Swe- denborg would express it, to the world of intelligence; or, in Fichtes terminology, the world of Nature can be compre- hended in its relation to the ego only as a moral world. The same principle which lies at the basis of the doctrine of a pre-established harmony fixes Leibnitzs exposition of freedom. Precisely as every change in Nature effected by reason may be viewed as the product both of moral reason and of mechanical Nature, so may every act of freedom be viewed as both free and determined. For the ego, in so far as it posits itself, posits itself as the absolute totality of all activity; and only in so far as it posits itself as limited does it posit this totality of activity as an infinite series of acts. It may view itself either way; both modes of viewing are merely different expressions of the same thing; and reason would not be reason, if it did not view everything in this double synthetical manner. The truth lies in neither view, but in comprehending that this duplicity of views is necessary for a rational being. Act, and you are free; but the moment you begin to reflect upon that act, in order to see whether it is an act of freedom, you subsume it under the laws of all reason. You manifest your freedom in one of the infinite series of acts; but when you begin to reflect, you find that you must also think it as determined by the totality. Without strictly scientific utterance, Leibuitz clearly enough points out this general synthesis of freedom and determinedness in all moral acts. The fact, says he, that God has, in being impelled by the highest cause to select amongst infinitely many orders of things and possible worlds such a one, wherein free creatures would frame such or such resolutions, although not without His assistance, most de- cidedly determined and fixed once and forever that order of things, by no means limits the freedom of those creatures; for this divine resolve changes nothing in their freedom, but only makes visible their free nature In like manner it is no detraction from freedom, if a wise being, and more par- ticularly God, the wisest, selects the best; since so to select is rather the highest freedom, and presupposes freedom Got Ifried Wilhelm Leibnitz. 35 Nor is it a contradiction of freedom to hold that our choice is always determined by motives; for these motives do not act upon the soul like weights in a scale; but it is rather the soul that acts through the motives If the soul were to act in opposition to its strongest motive, it would act in op- position to itself, which is a contradiction. In other words, we may view the soul as acting under both absolute self-deter- mination and impelling motives; the two are merely different views of the same act. In like manner Leibnitzs pre-established harmony is the clew to his doctrine of God, perhaps the least clearly expound- ed part of his system. The harmony of the infinite series of monads must certainly have a ground, if each monad is to be regarded as an independent, absolute ego. Bnt it is not so to be regarded; and hence, in our present exposition of it, we have stated the relation in this manner: The pure ego, in order to posit itself, must posit itself in an infinite number of ego- points, or monads. To ask now for a further ground of the pure ego, or of a harmony between the infinite series of ego- points, would be absnrd and self-contradictory, since this ground is already posited in the pure absolute ego. Reason is self- sufficient, and cannot properly ask for any further ground of itself. But when each individual monad thinks the unity and harmony which unite all with it into one, it has the conception of a Divinity, of whom there can, therefore, be predicated no category of Being, since all Being is the pure creation of the ego, but merely categories of activity. The conception of God is, therefore, not properly that of the highest monad, although Leibnitz sometimes, for the sake of analogy, expresses it thus, but rather the conception of the totality of activity of all monads. It is the conception of the harmony, regalarity, and wise arrangement of the monad universe, the conception of the totality of that universe of which each individual monad apprehends itself only as one of an infinite series. To the conception of this totality all monads are to elevate themselves, and sensuously to represent it upon this earth is more particularly the duty of mankind. In so far every man is an artist, and the process of turning the world of Nature into a world of reason is the great art-work 36 Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz. upon which humanity is engaged. To accomplish this, now that the science of eternal truths or of knowledge has been discovered, it is above all things necessary to gather facts and make experiments, in order to arrive also at a knowledge of the truths contained in these facts. Hence the incessant efforts which marked Leibnitzs life to establish academies, observatories, etc., and to collect empirical data on all possible subjects, in order by means of them to arrive at a knowledge of such truths. This is accomplished by arranging them in tables, and, in Leibnitzs phrase, using them like logarithms. They must be combined, on the principle announced in De Arte Gombirtatoria; that is to say, they must be gathered into regular order, as we gather numbers into tens, hundreds, etc., and must thus, as it were, be harmonized in this regu- larity. The great object of mankinds art-work is, indeed, this elevation of all facts, data, objects, etc., into regular har- mony, so that all of them shall ultimately combine in one uni- ty. This clear, harmonic agreement and regularity are what fills us with a~sthetical joy; and hence, in proportion as our knowledge of this harmony advances, our delight increases. Thus the true, the good, and the beautiful are one and the same; and to know is to be happy and to be good; and to be happy is to know and to be good; and to be good is to know and to be happy. Knowledge, goodness, and happiness can be equally traced back to order and regularity; and nothing proves more clearly that the mind of man is created in the image of God than this order and proportion of all things. A. E. KROEGER. The Mental Facultzes oj Brutes. 37 ART. IT. THE MENTAL FACULTIES OF BRUTES. THE vigorous efforts now making in some of our principal cities to prevent unnecessary cruelty to animals doubtless proceed from a strong benevolent impnlse, the basis of which is not very clearly defined in the minds of those who experi- ence it. These special friends and protectors of the brute creation ask no warrant for their proceedings beyond the in- stinctive sympathy of the mass of men with sufferings which they feel are closely allied to their own. But the ground on which they stand would be much firmer, and the dignity and value of their efforts likely to meet with a more speedy recog- nition, if it were fairly shown that the brutes that perish are our poor relations, not only by virtue of possessing mere animal sensibilities in common with mankind, but from being endowed with all the essential faculties of the human race. We therefore judge the present time not unfavorable for a brief consideration of these two leading questions, often, though seldom satisfactorily, discussed: Are animals endowed with all the mental powers possessed by man? and Do any ani- mals possess mental powers denied to the human race? Other men are so like us in external aspect, and their actions so closely resemble ours, that, even if we were not endowed with the gifts of speech and hearing, we should doubtless infer that they were possessed of minds like our own. Spoken language is only an aid, and not an essential means of intercommunication between members of the human family. It is but a second system of chiefly artificial signs, addressed to the sense of hearing, and supplementing the alphabet of Nature, which is for the most part dumb, and related only to the sense of sight. We understand the deaf and dumb man, and he us, though very often imperfectly. But, for that mat- ter, who thoroughly understands any one else? or who can communicate to another the exact phase and the perfect ful- ness of his thoughts and hopes and affections? The principle that like effects are to be referred to like causes lies at the foundation of all our knowledge of the characters of other men. We judge Shakespeare and the

The Mental Facultzes oj Brutes. 37 ART. IT. THE MENTAL FACULTIES OF BRUTES. THE vigorous efforts now making in some of our principal cities to prevent unnecessary cruelty to animals doubtless proceed from a strong benevolent impnlse, the basis of which is not very clearly defined in the minds of those who experi- ence it. These special friends and protectors of the brute creation ask no warrant for their proceedings beyond the in- stinctive sympathy of the mass of men with sufferings which they feel are closely allied to their own. But the ground on which they stand would be much firmer, and the dignity and value of their efforts likely to meet with a more speedy recog- nition, if it were fairly shown that the brutes that perish are our poor relations, not only by virtue of possessing mere animal sensibilities in common with mankind, but from being endowed with all the essential faculties of the human race. We therefore judge the present time not unfavorable for a brief consideration of these two leading questions, often, though seldom satisfactorily, discussed: Are animals endowed with all the mental powers possessed by man? and Do any ani- mals possess mental powers denied to the human race? Other men are so like us in external aspect, and their actions so closely resemble ours, that, even if we were not endowed with the gifts of speech and hearing, we should doubtless infer that they were possessed of minds like our own. Spoken language is only an aid, and not an essential means of intercommunication between members of the human family. It is but a second system of chiefly artificial signs, addressed to the sense of hearing, and supplementing the alphabet of Nature, which is for the most part dumb, and related only to the sense of sight. We understand the deaf and dumb man, and he us, though very often imperfectly. But, for that mat- ter, who thoroughly understands any one else? or who can communicate to another the exact phase and the perfect ful- ness of his thoughts and hopes and affections? The principle that like effects are to be referred to like causes lies at the foundation of all our knowledge of the characters of other men. We judge Shakespeare and the 38 Tue ]Jliental Faculties of Brutes. [Jan. idiot by the same inflexible law. Believing in the essential unity of the human race, whatever faculties we find common to all the men whom we have ever known we consider funda- mental, and embrace such accounts as we can give of them in our attempted definitions, or rather descriptions, of the human mind. Just so must it be with our efforts to fathom the con- sciousness of the animal creation. It is only in so far as brutes are in reality our poor relations, possessed of the same mental faculties with us, that we can have any adequate conception of their inner life. We interpret their actions as we do those of our fellow-men. We even find it convenient at times to characterize human traits by their qualities. One man is as cross as a bear ~ ; another as sly as a fox, or as cunning as a weasel. Even He who spake as never man spake could find no more fitting words than these with which to address his twelve disciples: Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye therefore wise as serpents and harmless as doves. Literature is full of such similes, and we need not go beyond this fact for proof of at least a partial community of nature between the minds of men and brutes. Like qualities point to a like subject, and, whether this is material or immaterial, the principle remains the same. Altogether unphilosophical, then, are those theories which, while acknowledging a close resemblance between very many of the actions of men and of brutes, yet ascribe these similar acts to dissimilar causes. Descartes could not, or would not, see any essential difference between an animal and a watch; because, forsooth, if animals had souls, would they not be immortal like men? and his human pride could not brook that degree of equality. We will not stop now to inquire whether immortality is a necessary attribute of mind, as Des- cartes seemed to think it. We only wish to protest against that false mode of philosophizing which hesitates to accept legitimate conclusions when they seem likely to lead to unwel- come inferences. Descartes, however, in spite of his philoso- phy, could not help sometimes speaking of the manifestations of brute intelligence in precisely the same language as other men, though protesting in the same breath that they were purely physical phenomena, dependent on the structure of the bodily The .llliental Faculties of Brutes. 39 organs. Though himself no materialist, he committed the same error with the materialists, in ascribing to matter func- tions of which it is not capable. Sir Isaac Newton erred in a somewhat different direction. Although his language is rather obscure, he appears to have thought that animals had no minds of their own, like men, but that the Deity immediately caused or directed all their actions, without any intelligence on their part. This made God more immanently present in the brute creation than in the human race, and certainly would have justified the philosopher in sacredly protecting, if not worshipping, not only monkeys, after the manner of some of the ancients, but animals of every kind. There were not wanting other more superficial thinkers to echo the doctrine, much older, however, than Newton, and disclaimed by him when stated in this form, that God is the soul of brutes. Addison, in the Spectator, declares that instinct cannot be accounted for by any properties in matter, and at the same time it works after so odd a manner that one cannot think it the faculty of an intellectual being, and that, for his part, he looks upon it as upon the principle of gravi- tation in bodies, which is not to be explained by any known qualities inherent in the bodies themselves, nor from any laws of mechanism, but, according to the best notions of the great- est philosophers, is an immediate impression from the first Mover, and the divine knowledge acting in the creatures. Even Pope took up the refrain, singing thus And reason raise oer instinct as you can, In this t is God that acts, in that t is man. One is at a loss to see what is gained by such a theory as this, since by it brutes are made less manlike only to become more godlike, and are thrown out of our own family only to be adopted into a nobler one. Perhaps, however, if we are well rid of them, that is all that is necessary. But, seriously, one cannot help wondering that such a mind as Newtons did not perceive that this hypothesis lacked two most essential ele- ments, necessity and consistency. The existence of created mind was just as adequate to the explanation of the phenomena 40 Tue M~ental Faculties of Brutes. of animal as of human intelligence; and there was no reason for supposing that the Creator had departed from His usual mode of acting mediately, and not immediately, upon organized matter. It is a true principle of philosophy as well as of the drama, that divine aid is not to be needlessly invoked in the solution of difficulties. But waiving for the moment these objections, what, upon this theory, shall we say of those cases in which animal instinct (and Newton seems to make all actions of brutes instinctive) goes astray, as it were, and ap- parently fails of its end? Wlieii the ape of which Blumen- bach tells us picked out the painted pictures of beetles from a book of natural history, and ate them down as though they were the living animals, is it consistent with our conceptions of the Deity to suppose that this was His immediate act? And when the sheep eats the poisonous laurel and dies, is it an in- finite or a finite intelligence that errs? These theories of Descartes and Newton have not met with very general acceptance, especially that of the former,which, by the way, can be traced back substantially to some of the ancient philosophers. The anonymous author of A Moral Essay upon the Soul of Man, published in the year 1700, seems to hold to the two theories in conjunction, without being conscious of their incompatibility. While declaring that the Deity conducts animals to those Ends for which he hath created them, by secret Springs which he hath placd in them, which are diversly determind, according to Accidents, to make a thousand sorts of different Movements,according to their different Business and Occasion, and that it is not by any Sentiments of Duty that Dogs love and follow their Mas- ters, any otherwise than by Instinct, or by the necessary effect of the ]Jlechaniclc Disposition of the Springs which serve to move them, he repeatedly uses language which implies the direction and control of these brute mechanisms by the Creator. In one thing, however, he is perfectly consistent throughout, and that is in denying to brutes the least particle of real sen- sation, or perception, or intelligence of any kind. He stoutly protests against giving them the least chance to prove their spiritual relationship to us, lest they should take advantage of it to claim some portion of our inheritance. According to his The Jiliental Faculties of Brutes. 41 philosophy, it is not safe to allow that the dog can wag his own tail as an evidence of satisfaction, when his master holds up before him a piece of meat: for satisfaction is an attribute of mind; and if a dog may experience this emotion, where is there any necessary limit to his possible emotions? Neither can the dog really know that it is meat which his master is offering him, or that his master is offering him anything at all, or in fact that he has any master, or that there is any such thing as a man or a dog: for to know is to have a mind; and who shall fix the possible limits of mental development? No! All that happens is merely something like this, if we will accept the teachings of our philosopher. From the fatty portions of the meat which the master holds up before his dog certain subtile odors are wafted by currents of air or fall by the mere force of gravitation about the head of the canine mechanism. Such of these oleaginous particles as come in contact with the anterior surface of the eye serve to lubricate it and give it an unusual degree of lustre. Other particles passing through the nostrils into the mouth so soften and relax the muscles which close the jaws that the mouth falls open. As Nature abhors a vacuum, the oily atoms pass 6n towards the empty stomach, on their way causing rapid vibrations in the vocal chords, which send forth a sudden bark. In consequence of their acquired velocity, and the vis a tergo received from other particles pressing upon them, they do not stop until they reach the roots of the tail, and here, their whole force being concentrated upon the main- spring of this intricate organism, the whole tail rapidly wags. When the master drops the meat into the animals mouth, all this atomic influence of course ceases, the mouth suddenly closes, and the former equilibrium is everywhere restored. When everything can be so easily and naturally explained on mechanical and physiological principles, why be so nuphilosoph- ical as to go beyond these? The following passage from this writer will show that we have not been indulging in caricature. He says: It is an in- disputable Maxim of Physick and good Sense, That we must never place in Nature an useless Principle, and without an Effect to which it is necessary. It would, for Example, be ridiculous to be willing to put a Soul endud with a true knowb 42 The ]IJiental Faculties of Brutes. [Jan. edge, either into a Clock or a Windmill to make them go, since all their Movements may be made without any such Principle of Knowledge to direct or determine their Movements. And without doubt it is no less ridiculous, to put into Animals a Principle of Knowledge and true Sentiment like unto ours, and a true Light to instruct them, if there be no need of such a Principle to make them do everything which they do: Now so it is, that there doth not anything appear in Beasts that is a necessary and inseparable Effect of such a Knowledge, of such a Sentiment, of such a Principle; since there is nothing that Beasts do, which may not be easily explaind mechanically, as we say, or which requires that there should be a true and proper Principle of Knowledge in Them. But, with all his vagaries, this anonymous writer is much to be praised for his persistent defence of the principle, that one real act of intelli- gence is as good as a millioh for proving the existence of a rational animal soul. We must not take leave of Newtons theory without men- tioning, that, in our own time and country, no less distinguished a writer than the author of the Lowell lectures on Metaphys- ical and Ethical Science has looked upon it with considerable favor. After a lengthy consideration of the phenomena of instinct, (and he is inclined to allow to brutes no acts indicat- ing intelligence, excepting such as are instinctive,) he says, in a concluding note: I hardly need observe how much the phe- nomena considered in this chapter tend to confirm the doctrine of immediate divine agency. As he denies to man the pos- session of any instincts, properly so called, he is to be ranked among those who hold to a difference in kind as well as degree between the faculties of men and brutes. However, like most of those who hold to this view, he is far from being consistent in his language, and it is only by disre- garding minor discrepancies and looking at the whole scope of his argument that his true position can be learned. For in- stance, while he declares that almost all, and probably all, the intelligent actions of animals are purely instinctive, and that, as we affirm confidently that mind is not material, so we may find sure reason to believe that it is radically different from in- stiuct, he yet does not hesitate to speak of the brute mind, 1869.] The Mental Faculties of Brutes. 43 and of the mental constitution, mental endowments, and mental nature of brutes. At the very outset he proposes (to use his own words) to examine the only case within the sphere of human observation where intellectual are not com- bined with moral qualities, and where, consequently, enjoyment for the time must be regarded as the sole end of existence, adding, I refer, of course, to the mental constitution of brutes. Is not this a distinct, though it may be an uninten- tional, acknowledgment that brutes do possess both intellectual and sensitive faculties, neither of which can be predicated of anything but mind? And can that be legitimate philosophizing which entirely throws out of account one very striking class of phenomena, which cannot be readily referred to the workings of instinct? Yet our author says: I say nothing of the feats which animals may be trained by man to accomplish, because these may all be traced to the blind and unconscious faculty of imitation or mimicry, and to the continued association of re- ward or punishment with certain actions. Now there may be some fortuitous resemblance or coincidence of action with- out any conscious design, and this is sometimes called imita- tion; but it is not the kind of imitation of which he is speaking, for it can in no sense be termed a faculty. He is evidently re- ferring to imitative acts in which we can observe the relation of cause and effect, that is to say, in which the primary action suggests and furnishes the motive for the secondary imitative act. Such imitation involves consciousness in the imitating animal, and to speak of the unconscious faculty of imitation is to join together ideas which the very laws of mind have put asunder. And just so it is with regard to the continued as- sociation of reward or punishment with certain actions: this clearly involves both consciousness and the association of ideas, and even much more than this, as we shall presently see. The theories which have been considered are the only ones of any importance which assume an entire contrariety of na- ture between animal and human souls. It would be interest- ing to examine the speculations of those philosophers who allow to brutes a limited degree of intelligence outside of or in connection with the operations of instinct; but this is not essential to our present purpose. The theory of French, that 44 The iJuliental Faculties of Brutes. [Jan. the bodies of beasts are the abodes of spirits, both good and evil, deserves a passing mention, as a striking instance of those freaks of fancy to which scientific men even nowadays are sometimes subject. The general statements which we have made with regard to the similarity of the actions of men and brutes, and the infer- ences which are to be drawn from this similarity, need to be supported by a more complete induction of facts, before they can be made available for the solution of the questions pro- posed at the outset of our inquiry. The necessary complete- ness can be attained only by going through with the funda- mental faculties of the human mind in some systematic order, and determining with regard to each whether its equivalent is to be found in the brute mind. Brougham attempted this method in his Dialogues on Instinct; but in consequence of the imperfection of his philosophy, his reasoning is often far from being satisfactory. It is true, there is not even now ab- solute uniformity of opinion as to which are the fundamental faculties of the human mind, a fact which may, of course, introduce some uncertainty into our results, but only such a degree of it as attaches to all human speculations. The funda- mental faculties alone have been spoken of as being the objects of our present consideration; because, if these are identical in men and brutes, any differences which may exist in the power of combining simple mental acts will only go to prove a differ- ence of development, and not of nature. There is no action of the human mind which is not an act either of knowledge, feeling, or will. There is but a single faculty of willing, while our acts of knowledge and feeling are the product of several special and distinct faculties. In many of our complex mental operations, and even in some of those which appear to be the simplest, all the faculties of knowledge, the power of the will, and some one or more of the feelings, are brought into action. In the following instance of brute intelli- gence we shall find, upon careful consideration, that the case is precisely the same. The story will be given substantially in the words of the journal from which it is taken. In the Garden of Plants, in London, the keepers were re- cently engaged in destroying a great number of rats, when one The Mental Faculties of Brutes. 45 of them escaped and ran to the spot allotted to the elephant. Seeing no other refuge, in the twinkling of an eye the rat snugly ensconced himself in the trunk of the elephant, very much to the elephants dissatisfaction. He stamped his foot and twisted his trunk around like the sail of a windmill, and then stood suddenly still, apparently reflecting on what it was best to do. Presently he ran to the water-trough where he was accustomed to drink, plunged in his trunk and filled it, and then raising it dashed out the rat in a torrent like that which issues from the hose of a fire-engine. When the rat struck the ground, the elephant seized him and made him undergo the immersion and projection four times. The fourth time the rat fell dead. The elephant, with a quiet, but majestic air, crushed it under his foot, and then went round to the spectators to make his usual collection of dainties. In considering the mental operations involved in, and indi- cated by, the actions of the elephant in this contest, we will begin with the knowing or cognitive faculties. In the first place, he could not have become aware of the presence of the rat in his proboscis, except through an act of perception, that faculty which gives to the mind its knowledge of external things. But perception involves self-consciousness: for the mind cannot become aware of the existence of something besides itself, without perceiving a difference between that something and itself; and the perception of differences presup- poses a knowledge of the things which differ. Thus the ele- phant must have been conscious of his own existence at the same time that he was conscious of the present relation of some external object to his senses. He must have had, for aught we can see, as clear an idea of the me and the not-me as belongs to most men. This is not asserting that the elephant is a philosopher, but only that he possesses the essential groundwork of intelligence. But the mental operation already described involves the exercise of other faculties than those of perception and self- consciousness. In distinguishing itself, the percipient subject, from the perceived object, the mind compares the two, and affirms that they are not the same. We have here comparison and judgment, the prime elements of all reasoning. However 46 The Miental Faculties of Brutes. [Jan. complicated any train of thought, it is capable of being re- solved into a succession of simple acts of comparison and judgment. It is this fact which leads so many to deny to brutes the possession of these two allied faculties. The course of reasoning adopted is something like the following. One of the faculties of the human mind is the faculty of relations, or the power of comparing and judging. To the exercise of this power are to be ascribed all the grandest achievements of the human intellect, such as the discovery of the law of grav- itation, and the evolution of the fundamental principles of ethical and metaphysical science. No animal has ever accom- plished such results, and therefore the brute creation does not possess this faculty. In the first place, this argument is faulty in assuming that we are to test the existence of any faculty by specific instead of generic results. Since all reasoning, even the most abstruse, is made up of simple acts of comparison and judgment, the last link in the chain of thought which yields to us a most pro- found generalization does not differ, as a mental act, from the simplest thought of the most ignorant man. There is no single step in any, even the most complex, deductive or inductive process, which involves any power different in kind from that by which the most stupid savage of the wilds of Africa guides the practical actions of his daily life. All the discoveries of Newton and La Place, all the demonstrations of Euclid, all the splendid results of modern science, have for their component elem~uts propositions as simple as the school-boys two and two make four. Not results, then, but processes, are the test of identity with regard to faculties of the mind. To deny this would lead us into extreme absurdities. But it is said that the possession of the faculty implies the possibility of the highest attainments in the direction of that faculty, and that, if a pig can reason, there is nothing to hinder his becoming a Newton. But what if there should be some- thing to hinder, nevertheless, which our poor reason cannot discover ? If our own intellects were infinite, if we did not at every step strike our bewildered heads against the prison-bars which limit the possibilities of human thought, we might have some reason for believing in the infinite possibilities of brutes. The Mental Faculties of Brutes. As it is, we should do better to accept the simple fact, that the reason of brutes is actually much more limited in the range of its operation than our own, than utterly to deny them reason through fear of making them our equals. To cite a specific instance of this fallacy against which we have been contending, take the case of Coleridge, who would not allow that a brute animal could have the conception black is not white, because this would constitute him a reasoning being, capable, as he thought, of all human intellectual possi- bilities. It is not easy to conceive how this philosopher would have explained the apparent perception by animals of the dis- tinction between day and night, to say nothing of other less general distinctions pertaining to color. When the cock, at the rising of the moon in the middle of the night, crows as lustily as at daybreak, what have these two seasons in common which could produce the awakening, except the transition from darkness to light? Vision, in fact, is impossible without some discrimination of colors, or at least of light and shade ; so that either the higher animals know black from white, or else their eyes were given them in mere mockery, and they are by some mysterious contrivance made to act precisely as they would do, if they were not blind. If, however, Coleridge only means to say that animals cannot reflect upon the abstract notions of blackness and whiteness, and determine that they do not agree, he not only affirms that of which he has no evidence, but which, if it were true, would be nothing to the purpose for, as we have already shown, it is not necessary, in order to prove the existence of the reasoning faculty in any given case, to demonstrate the presence of all the effects which have been seen in other cases. Abstraction is not an independent faculty of the mind, but only the reason- ing power applied to certain ideas to the exclusion of others, and brutes might be without it and yet be reasoning beings. But, in point of fact, it is easy to show that brutes have this power. Just as it is only by a process of abstraction and gen- eralization that we are able to classify the manifold objects of Nature, without which classification we should be bewildered because of their multiplicity and diversity, so we must con- ceive it to be with the animal kingdom. One object which we 48 The Mental Faculties of Brutes. [Jan. see for the first time we know to be a man, another a rock, and another a tree, because we have previously learned from expe- rience what are the characteristics of these objects, which is the same thing as saying that we have formed abstract ideas corresponding to the words man, rock, tree. There would seem to be no qnestion bnt that, by virtue of these same powers of abstraction and generalization, the dog knows that a man whom he meets for the first time is a man, and not a dog or a fox. One of the English Quarterly Reviews tells the story of a dog which, having been taught to beg for food by sitting up- right, was in the habit of assuming that posture whenever he wanted a favor of any kind, for instance, the opening of a door. This animal evidently mnst have conceived the notion that there was some relation between the longing for food and other desires; and the conception of a class of desires is a pure generalization. But it is time we were examining still further the story of the elephant and the rat, in search of other fundamental faculties. The action of the elephant in going to the trough for water indicates, in the first place, the presence of memory and imaoination. It is of no consequence to our present inquiry 0 whether the former faculty should be divided into two, mem- ory proper and reminiscence, or whether there is nothing which can properly be called memory apart from reminis- cence: if the observed phenomena are identical in kind in man and brute, the question of simplicity need not be raised. Now the elephant would not have gone to the trough as he did, had he not remembered that water was kept there; and when by an act of memory the idea of water had been recalled to his consciousness, the faculty of imagination, or the representative faculty, must have come into exercise in order to keep this idea before the mind and enable it to determine the subsequent actions of the animal. One of the two great schools of philosophy at the present day would excuse us from searching for any manifestations of what is sometimes called the regulative faculty, by which is meant the power of the mind to evolve from itself, without the aid of reasoning, certain fundamental truths and laws, called first principles, or intuitive truths; but our sympathies being The Mental Faculties of Brutes. 49 with that school which acknowledges the existence of such truths, we cannot excnse ourselves from reckoning the intnitive faculty among those which are fundamental. In order, how- ever, to meet the requirements of the intuitional philosophy, it is not necessary to show that brntes equal ns in the extent of their intnitive knowledge, bnt only that they have some knowl- edge of this kind, indicating the possession of the correspond- ing faculty. To demand anything more than this would be to repeat the fallacy already exposed, of looking for coextensive resnlts instead of identical powers. The case we are exam- ining furnishes us with several phenomena which, if the ele- phant were a man, would be considered conclusive evidence of the possession of intuitive knowledge. The idea of the neces- sary relation of canse and effect is accepted by philosophers of the intuitional school as a first principle or self-evident truth. Of course the great majority of men never state this principle to themselves in any set form of words; but every man, how- ever ignoraht, acts upon it every hour of his life. When the elephant perceived a certain unusual sensation in his proboscis, he evidently attributed it at once to the presence of some for- eign object, the removal of which would relieve him from the unpleasant sensation. The effect was promptly assigned to a cause, and means were deliberately adopted to secure its re- moval. What clearer evidence could a man give of a practical recognition of the relation of cause and effect? But first prin- ciples, according to some, are of two kinds, namely, necessary and contingent truths. We have been considering a specimen of the former: we have ready at hand one of the latter. A practical belief in the uniformity of the operations of Nature is the only principle on which we can account for the action of the elephant in adopting the means which he did for getting rid of the rat. What water has done water will do, was his simple intuitive logic, the same logic which leads us to be- lieve that the sun will rise to-morrow, and that death will one day come to all. We have now completed the list of the fundamental cogni- tive faculties, and found none of them wanting in our repre- sentative animal. That we must also credit him with the possession of the faculty of will seems inevitable; for no hu VOL. CVIII.NO. 222. 4 [Jan. 50 Tue Mental Faculties of Brutes. man being ever gave clearer evidence of a deliberate purpose to free himself from unpleasant circumstances than did this elephant. To say that his acts were entirely involuntary and automatic is a use of terms that robs them of all meaning. Unlike the other faculties, the sensibilities are not found combined in action to any great extent. Their several phe- nomena are called forth by such different circumstances, and the characteristics of some of them are so completely contra- dictory to those of others, that the presence of one sensation or emotion often virtually necessitates the absence of almost every other. All that our narrative warrants us in affirming with regard to the feelings experienced by the elephant and the rat is this, that the sentiments or internal feelings in active exercise were in the rat fear, and in the elephant resent- ment, accompanied in both cases by desire and hope, and that the external sensations, so called, of hearing, sight, and feeling, were doubtless experienced by both. We now leave this case, and cite common experience, as well as other special cases, in order to determine the presence or absence in brutes of other feelings than those just mentioned. No one will deny that the remaining external senses, those of smell and taste, are possessed by many animals. Even if we enlarge the list beyond the customary five, and allow special senses of heat and cold, wet and dry, hunger and thirst, weari- ness, nausea, shuddering, etc., there is not one among them all which any man of observation would deny to the higher classes of brutes, and some of them seem to be possessed by animals even of the very lowest rank. In searching for manifestations of the sentiments, or inter- nal feelings, we perhaps cannot do better than to follow the order adopted by Professor Haven in his classification of the faculties of the mind, taking up first what he calls the simple emotions, secondly the affections, and thirdly the desires. We hardly need to cite special instances in order to show that many animals manifest that general state of mind known as cheerfulness, and also its opposite. Brutes not having, ex- cept to a very limited extent, the use of a vocal language intel- ligible to man, and possessing but little power of facial expres- sion, the presence of this feeling, as of many others, often escapes the attention of a careless observer. 869.] Tb e Mental Faculties of Brutes. Closely connected with this feeling is sorrow for the loss of friends, which many animals manifest in a striking degree. Examples of this emotion in domestic animals will readily occur to every one. Forbes, in his Oriental Memoirs, tells us that a friend of his having shot a female monkey and car- ried off the body, forty of the animals soon surrounded his tent, and, making a great noise, gave evidence of an inclination to attack him. On the presentation of his gun, all retired ex- cept one, who appeared to be the leader: he stood his ground, chattering furiously. As the man did not fire, the monkey at last came to the door of the tent and began a lamentable moan- ing, and by the most expressive gestures seemed to beg for the dead body. When it was given him, he took it sorrowfully in his arms and bore it away to his companions. Whether brutes sympathize with the happiness and sorrow of others might at first sight seem doubtful; but facts like the following compel us to decide the question in the affirmative. The story is taken by Brougham from an apparently trustwor- thy French authority. A swallow had slipped its foot into the noose of a cord attached to a spout in the Coll6ge des Quatre Nations at Paris, and by endeavoring to escape had drawn the knot tight. Its strength being exhausted in vain attempts to fly, it uttered piteous cries, which assembled a vast flock of other swallows They seemed to crowd and consult together for a little while, and then one of them darted at the string and struck at it with his beak as he flew past; and others following in quick succession did the same, striking at the same part, till, after continuing this combined operation for half an hour, they succeeded in severing the cord and free- ing their companion. They all continued flocking and hov- ering till night; only, instead of the tumult and agitation in which they had been at their first assembling, they were chat- tering as if without any anxiety at all, but conscious of having succeeded. The emotion of satisfaction at success, and the opposite emotion of dejection at failure, as well as that self-satisfied feeling which we call pride or self-esteem, are often exhibited in the actions of domestic animals: it is not necessary to specify instances. 52 The Mer& tcd Faculties of Brutes. [Jan. Although we should hesitate to affirm that there are many animals which have a sense of the ludicrous, yet it can hardly be denied to the ape and monkey tribes, or to parrots. Surprise, curiosity, and the enjoyment of the new, all of which may be considered modifications of one and the same feeling, are noticeable in all the higher animals. Dogs meet- ing for the first time especially exhibit this emotion. That birds apparently delight in the brilliant plumage of their mates is an indication that they are capable of enjoying beauty. The fact that brutes do not seem to manifest any appreciation of the sublime cannot be considered as due to any radical defect in their natures, so long as the philosophers make no fundamental distinction between the sublime and the beautiful. Closely connected with the enjoyment of the beautiful is the enjoyment of the good, which, with reference to our own ac- tions, we speak of as the approving voice of conscience. Phi- losophers have generally denied to brutes the manifestation of this emotion, and it must be acknowledged that those actions of domestic animals which often seem to involve a conscious- ness of merit or demerit may generally, perhaps always, be referred to the stimulus of hope and the love of approbation, or of fear and the dread of disapprobation. Both this and the preceding topic would demand a more extended treatment, were it not for the consideration that the enjoyment of the beautiful and the good presupposes a conception of their na- ture, and if these intuitive conceptions are wanting, (and as they are merely facts, and not faculties, their absence does not imply the lack of any fundamental power,) then of course the corresponding emotions must be wanting. In failing to pos- sess a knowledge and appreciation of the beautiful and the good, (supposing this to be the fact,) brutes lack somewhat of our mental furniture, but not, on that account, any elementary power. They may be free agents, even if they are not free moral agents, and in this simple distinction consists the chief glory of man. Add to the brutes no new faculty, but merely the idea of right and wrong, and you make them capable of virtue and vice. The benevolent affections of love of kindred, friends, bene 1869.] The .7iiTental Faculties of Brutes. 53 factors, and home, as well as the malevolent feeling of resent- ment, and its modifications, envy, jealousy, and revenge, are manifested by different animals in widely different degrees, yet must all be ranked among the faculties common to men and brutes. Those desires which arise from the physical constitution of man are too evidently shared by other animals to need any- thing more than this passing mention. If happiness may be defined as satisfaction with ones pres- ent condition, then the desire of happiness is the longing for some absent condition which, if present, would produce satis- faction. The efforts which brutes put forth to secure their own welfare, as well as other ends, often seem to be stimulated by this desire. The practically limited range of the discursive faculty in animals, already spoken of, may be considered as affording a sufficient reason why we see in them so few manifestations of a desire of knowledge. Within certain narrow limits, how- ever, all the higher animals give evidence of the possession of this desire, in the eagerness with which they seek for those objects which are related either to their daily wants or to some special demand of their natures. This knowledge is not to be compared for a moment with the knowledge which men may acquire; nevertheless it comes through the same faculties. It is also to be noticed, that, while men often desire knowledge for its own sake, with brutes this seldom, if ever, seems to be the case. That many animals are fond of power, and have a desire for superiority, is acknowledged even by most of those who claim a wide distinction between the faculties of men and those of brutes. The same may be said of the desire of possession, the desire of society, the desire of esteem, and the feelings of hope and fear; it is therefore unnecessary to cite special instances of these. The last two have been already exemplified in the case of the rat and the elephant. We have now gone through with the commonly acknowledged faculties of the human mind; and if in the course of our in- qniry we have made no unreasonable assumptions, the reply to the first of the two questions propounded at the outset must be 54 Tue Miental Faculties of Brutes. [Jan. evident, namely, that the difference between the faculties of men and brutes is one of degree only, and not of kind, and that all the faculties of the human mind have their parallels in the brute creation. This, of course, does not exclude great mental differences in different races of animals; in fact,the most limited observation shows that between the highest and the lowest animals there must be a far greater distance in point of intelligence than between the higher animals and man. Moreover, our examination has not proved that any one animal possesses all the faculties belonging to man, but only that brutes, taken as a whole, lack none of the elementary powers with which the human race is endowed. Our second question, Do any animals possess mental powers denied to the human race? must, from lack of space, be treated much more summarily. Instinct is supposed by some to be a faculty peculiar to brutes. Without rehearsing the many different and even contradictory definitions which have been given of the word, we will venture to say that all the essential truth contained in them may be summed up in this single statement, that instinctive actions are those which are not based either upon instruction or experience. It is to be noticed that the term instinct, as commonly used, includes the outward manifestation as well as the mental act, and even points more particularly to the former. But evidently the only question to be considered in the present connection is this: What is the iuward cause of the outward phenomenon? And here, as in our preceding inquiry, we must insist upon the application of the philosophical principle, that no new faculty is to be assumed, unless it shall be absolutely necessary in order to explain the facts. Those automatic physical acts which are produced by reflex nervous action, having a purely physical origin, may at once be left out of the account, although they are sometimes spoken of as instinctive. Those spasmodic motions of the body which are produced by sudden or unforeseen contact with objects which are sharp, or hot, or cold, are specimens of this class. The involuntary processes of respiration, circulation of the blood, etc., being carried on without any mental effort, are not, in the strict sense of the term, instinctive. The definition The ]iliental Faculties of Brutes. 55 which we have given ought, for purposes of mental science, to be so restricted as to cover only such acts as call into play some mental force. Leaving out of account, then, the two classes of acts just referred to, we may say, in the first place, that the physical element of instinctive acts must be imme- diately under the control of the will. Whatever the mental impulse may be, it can control the body only through the medium of the power of volition, acting upon the nerves of voluntary motion, unless we accept the exploded theory of Descartes or Newton. The beaver wills to build his dam, or he would not build it; he wills to fell with his teeth each par- ticular tree, and to perform every other individual act which goes to make up the building of the dam, or else no muscle would move towards the execution of the work. The acts of instinct, then, are not involuntary, as is frequently asserted, but have every appearance of being excited by the will. This, of course, also brings them within the domain of consciousness. This consciousness, however, does not necessarily extend be- yond the present act, so that the animal may be ignorant of the ultimate end to be subserved by his work. But there must be some impulse to move the will, and that an impulse acting with great uniformity, since regularity of operation is a striking feature of instinct. Our definition ex- cludes all motives derived from instruction and experience; so that the intuitive faculty is the only one with which we are already acquainted which can possibly furnish the necessary stimulus, and this faculty seems adequate to the task. There is a striking similarity, if no closer connection, between instinct and genius; for the latter, too, works from the fresh impulse of Nature, instead of following the beaten track of experience. Everybody believes that the true poet is born, not made, and that a sort of inspiration distinguishes greatness from medi- ocrity. Doubtless it would be a strange thing, if a man were born with a plan of the Parthenon or an image of the llhodian Colossus in his brain; but are we quite sure that these triumphs of genius do not after all partake, in some sort, of inspiration? lilt may be suggested, then, that special forms of instinct are to animals what special forms of genius are to men, only that the former are more limited in their range 56 The Mental Faculties of Brutes. and mode of action. The genius of Michael Angelo was not limited to the production of one masterpiece; but the bee never departs from the one pattern shown to her by the great Architect. In its lower forms instinct differs little from what in men we call tact, except that the former is generally limited to some one kind of work, and that, too, specially related to the preservation of the animal or the perpetuation of the species. Although the bee is a perfect house-builder from the begin- ning and without instruction, while the human architect only by patient toil makes himself master of that skill and knowl- edge which the experience of decades of centuries has gath- ered, yet this proves no superiority of intellect on the part of the brute, even in that direction in which he seems especially to excel. The animal knows only the rule, man the law. The animal is but a journeyman, working after a plan prepared by another; man is a master-builder, second only to Him who guides the work of the brute. That man has only in these last centuries found out the wonderful mathematical laws which are embodied in the structure of the honeycomb, while the first bee that buzzed about the flowers of Eden built as skilfully as his descendants of the ten thousandth generation, is an indication, not of the superiority of the insect, but of his hopeless and irre- mediable degradation to the rank of a mere plodder, and of the infinite capacities of the teachable human soul. But in no other way than this could creatures of a day be so well con- stituted either for enjoyment or for the fulfilment of any other specific end. If the bee had been obliged to leai~n by experi- ence how to build her cell and elaborate honey and wax, her race would have become extinct with the first generation. The conclusion of the whole matter seems to us to be this: that the Creator has given to every animal, as a compensa- tion for its limited endowment in other respects, a certain kind and amount of innate potential knowledge, adapted to the purposes for which the animal was created, and that this knowledge rises into consciousness at such times and so often as is necessary for the execution of these purposes. We do not conceive that animals are moved like blind machines by this force of instinct, but that an impulse, conscious, though irresistible, arising from the depths of their own natures, urges The Tariff of the United States. 57 them on to the accomplishment of their destiny. When oth- er mental powers coexist with this, (and in most, if not all animals, this must be the case,) they blend with it, forming as perfect a harmony as exists in man between intuition and rea- son. Tact, insight, intuition, genius~these are the terms by which we designate our human instincts; and through these, no less than through our faculties of reason, we are connected with our poor relations. GEORGE L. GARY. ART. III. THE TARIFF OF THE UNITED STATES: SHALL IT BE AUGMENTED OR DIMINISHED AT THE COMING SESSION OF CONGRESS? DURING the last quarter of a century the commerce of the British Isles has greatly expanded. Their shipping has grown to seven million two hundred thousand tons. Their exports and imports exceed two thousand millions of dollars. For the last decade their imports have exceeded their exports two hundred millions yearly, and during this time their wealth has increased and their specie accumulated in the vaults of the Bank of England, in apparent contempt of the old tbeory of the balance of trade. Some ascribe this excess to the low valuation of exports ; but this reason seems insufficient. Others trace it to large remittances from India and the colo- nies by merchants and officers who expect to return to Eng- land with fortunes, or attribute it to freight-money, to inter- est on loans to foreign states, and to the profits on foreign shipments. Certainly seven million tons of ships and steam- ers, mostly in foreign trade, must earn a large amount; and several hundred millions of pounds invested in foreign loans, or in French, Indian, Russian, Spanish, and American rail- ways, must yield large returns. Fortunes, too, are often real- ized by Englishmen in Asia, Africa, and America. But how- ever this may be, the commerce of the empire has made great progress during the last twenty-five years. If you ask Englishmen how they account for this progress,

The Tariff of the United States. 57 them on to the accomplishment of their destiny. When oth- er mental powers coexist with this, (and in most, if not all animals, this must be the case,) they blend with it, forming as perfect a harmony as exists in man between intuition and rea- son. Tact, insight, intuition, genius~these are the terms by which we designate our human instincts; and through these, no less than through our faculties of reason, we are connected with our poor relations. GEORGE L. GARY. ART. III. THE TARIFF OF THE UNITED STATES: SHALL IT BE AUGMENTED OR DIMINISHED AT THE COMING SESSION OF CONGRESS? DURING the last quarter of a century the commerce of the British Isles has greatly expanded. Their shipping has grown to seven million two hundred thousand tons. Their exports and imports exceed two thousand millions of dollars. For the last decade their imports have exceeded their exports two hundred millions yearly, and during this time their wealth has increased and their specie accumulated in the vaults of the Bank of England, in apparent contempt of the old tbeory of the balance of trade. Some ascribe this excess to the low valuation of exports ; but this reason seems insufficient. Others trace it to large remittances from India and the colo- nies by merchants and officers who expect to return to Eng- land with fortunes, or attribute it to freight-money, to inter- est on loans to foreign states, and to the profits on foreign shipments. Certainly seven million tons of ships and steam- ers, mostly in foreign trade, must earn a large amount; and several hundred millions of pounds invested in foreign loans, or in French, Indian, Russian, Spanish, and American rail- ways, must yield large returns. Fortunes, too, are often real- ized by Englishmen in Asia, Africa, and America. But how- ever this may be, the commerce of the empire has made great progress during the last twenty-five years. If you ask Englishmen how they account for this progress, 58 The Tariff of the United States. in nine cases out of ten they will ascribe it to free trade. This the British merchant is forward in recommending to all foreigners; nor can there be any doubt that it has ministered to the prosperity of England. Before she adopted it, she had, under liberal institutions, made great advances in the arts of life, opened mines of coal, tin, copper, lead, and iron, engaged in the manufacture of flax, cotton, and wool, and converted her clay and iron ore into earthenware and cutlery. She had nearly exhausted the capacity of her soil, required more food to sustain her artisans, and more materials for her fabrics. As her manufactures and commerce grew, she rolled up capital, converted arable land into parks and pastures, and looked abroad for her wheat-fields and for markets for her goods. When she found that she could make goods cheaper than other nations, she sagaciously repealed her duties on food and materials, and reduced her duties on manufactures, but in few instances so low as to permit their introduction from foreign countries. France has to a certain extent followed her ex- ample, and extended her commerce. If we examine the com- mercial tables of each, we shall find that more than nine tenths of their i~mports consist of food and raw material, while at least four fifths of their exports are finished goods; and the chief manufactures they respectively import are the silks, gloves, fancy goods, and beet sugar of the one, and the iron, coarse cottons, and woollens of the other. This system, which enables England and France to realize large profits from their commerce, and gives value to their lands and house-lots at home, is their system of free trade. But the philosopher who investigates the growth of European commerce does not ascribe the progress of either nation to free trade alone. Commercial states differ in their laws and systems of trade. England has reduced her tariff on many things, France has gone less far in this direction, as likewise Belgium, until a few years since, while the United States in their tariff have given more protection than either. And Mr. Baxter, in a lecture before the Statistical Society, in London, a few months since, proved, that, while in imports and ex- ports, between 1842 and 1860, France had gained one hun- dred and sixty per cent, Eiigland two hundred and thirty-one, The Tariff of the United States. 59 and Belgium two hundred and seventy-two, the United States had gained three hundred and five per cent, in addition to their inland commerce, and thus stand at the head of progressive nations. Here, observed Mr. Baxter, are four countries under the same conditions of civilization, and having access to the same mechanical powers and inventions, which far outstrip contemporary nations. It is a probable conclusion that the same great cause was the foundation of their success. What was that common cause? It could not be free trade; for only one of the four countries had adopted a free-trade policy. But there was a common bause which each and all of those four countries had pre-eminently developed, the power of steam, steam machinery, steam navigation, and steam rail- ways. I say, then, that steam was the main cause of this prodigious progress of England, as well as of the other three countries. But I will go a step further. Steam machinery had existed for many years before 1830, and before the great expansion of commerce. Steam navigation had also existed for many years before 1830, and before the great expansion of commerce; and steam navigation was unable to cope with the obstacle which before 1830 was so insuperable, namely, the slowness and ex- pense and limited capacity of land carriage. I come, then, to this further conclusion, that the railways which removed the gigantic obstacle, and gave to land carriage such extraordinary rapidity and cheapness, and such unlimited capacity, must have been the main agent, the active and immediate cause of this sudden commercial development. Each expansion of the rail- way system has been immediately followed, as if by its shadow, by a great expansion of exports and imports. We ought to give railways their due credit and praise, as the chief of those mighty agents which within the last thirty years have changed the face of civilization.~~ The railway has doubtless been a lever more effective than free trade in removing burdens from commerce and develop- ing the resources of nations. Since 1815, our tariffs have given incidental protection to manufactures in varying degrees; but under them we have 60 The Tariff of the United States. [Jan. more than kept pace with the adjacent colonies of Great Britain, which have been guided by the policy of England, though she has defrayed their military and naval charges, and expends upon them many millions yearly. And now, after a long and exhausting conflict, the eight million families within the limits of the United States surpass in their average incomes the families in the richest kingdoms of Europe, where wealth has accumulated for centuries. It is not our intention to disparage free trade. We would do it entire justice. As practised in the British Isles, it has undoubtedly benefited them; and the free trade on a great scale, which here extends from the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, is of immense advan. tage to this country. Whatever lifts a burden from commerce, whether it be by the removal of a duty, the construction of a road, canal, or railway, or the establishment of a line of steam packets, is beneficial. All, too, will concede, that, if each skilled artisan is worth several thousand dollars to the country, and makes a market for the products of agriculture, it is quite as desirable to import the man as to import his fabrics. Most, likewise, will admit that it is desirable to bring the artisan as close as may be to the cornfield and the fisheries, in order to save the cost of transit, and since the weight of taxes de- pends upon income, that a tax of ten dollars would be felt more in Italy than one of fifty dollars in America. One class may favor free trade, and another a protective tariff; but while men may well differ in their economical theories, is there no common ground on which the free-trader and the protectionist may meet to shape the policy of our country? Ever since the adoption of our Constitution, it has been the practice of this country to draw most of its revenue from du- ties on imports. These duties have varied from time to time. During the embargo and the war of 1812, to meet the ex- penses of the war and the interest of the war debt, manufac~ tures were stimulated by the high duties, and the inventive genius of our people introduced many mechanical improve~ ments. The war debt was paid, the tariff reduced, the ener- gies of the people were again devoted to agriculture, inland navigation, and railways, and duties fell until they averaged in 1869.] The Tariff of the United States. 61 1860 but fourteen per cent. These were nearly as low as the import duties of England, although they were differently distrib- uted. Both countries taxed spirits, wine, and sugar; but while England placed heavy imposts on tobacco, tea, and coffee, and light duties on manufactures, the United States exempted tea and coffee from duty, taxed wine, salt, cigars, and fruits lightly, and placed heavier imposts on metals and manufactures. The United States subsequently, to meet the pressure of the civil war, and raise five hundred millions of revenue, placed heavy taxes on the products of every branch of industry, with corresponding duties on imports, extending them to tea and coffee, and carried up the average of the tariff from fourteen to forty-seven per cent. With the return of peace, the nation has succeeded, by the continuance of its onerous taxes for a few years, in reducing its debt nearly a fourth and its interest a third. It has also reduced its expenses for the current fiscal year to three hundred millions, with a prospect of cutting off sixty millions more in the coming year from bounties, interest, and payments for land. And now, having removed the im- posts levied on production, we shall find it in our power, not only to repeal the taxes which bear heavily on transportation, insurance, and incomes from professions, but may spare at least one fourth of the revenue from customs. Such is the abundance of our resources, that our revenue for the current year, after every reduction, is coming in at the rate of four hundred millions, and may well be expected to rise to four hundred and twenty millions in the ensuing year, while our annual expendi- ture is decreasing from three hundred and twenty to two hun- dred and forty millions. This promises a large surplus for the coming year, and must offer a broad margin for reductions. There is another view of the tariff question in which the free-trader and the protectionist may agree. The protection- ist asks, not direct, but incidental protection. He places him- self on the ground that the country requires a revenue to meet its expenses and the interest on its debt, and is content with that incidental protection which accrues from the levy of those duties that are most productive, He says that he asks for no prohibitory duties, and for none that are unnecessary. May not the free-trader go with him up to a certain point, and ac 62 The Tariff of the United States. [Jan. cept a revision of the tariff, although he may wish eventually to go farther, and to substitute direct for indirect taxation? For both will probably agree that it will be injurious to com- merce to make sudden and radical changes. Let us glance for a moment at our sources of revenue. First, we have the internal taxes, nearly half of which come from our imposts on spirits and tobacco. Here is a revenue which, when reinforced by suitable duties on foreign cigars and spirits, will in a few years, as our debt diminishes, meet the whole interest on our debt. Few will condemn the con- tinuance of heavy imposts on articles so purely luxurious. Neither will there be any serious objection to an income tax of three per cent on coupons and dividends, which might yield fifteen millions, and yet fall lightly on accumulated wealth, nor to light taxes on stamps, licenses, and bank circulation, nor to a fifth of one per cent on the sales of goods and manu- factures, which might yield twenty millions. We may thus, after the repeal of all onerous and annoying taxes, raise an internal revenue of one hundred and thirty millions annually. Then we have the incidental revenue, which for the last eighteen months has yielded four millions a month, nearly half of which has been realized from sales of gold. This part of our revenue, of course, is not permanent, and will cease in that happy hour which shall carry us back to specie payments; but we may reasonably expect from incidental sources, from the sale of surplus ships and military stores, from penalties, ar- rears, and land-sales, at least twenty millions annually. Take, for instance, this last item, the sale of lands. While we shall realize little from ordinary sales, the nation holds in reserve, at two dollars and a half per acre, at least fifty millions of acres, within the average distance of eight miles from a rail- way, on more than five thousand miles of railways to which land-grants have been made. This land will be in quick de- mand as soon as stations and tracks are completed. Such land on the Illinois Central was readily sold at two prices, and the land secured by that company is now selling for ten to twenty dollars per acre. This for ten years to come may yield ten to fifteen millions annually. We may look, then, with confidence to incidentals for twenty millions of revenue. The Tariff of the United States. 63 If we require, as it is safe to assume, but two hundred and eighty millions of dollars for expenses, interest, and sinking fund, and can easily draw one hundred and fifty millions from in- ternal and incidental revenue, it follows that we want but one hundred and thirty millions from customs. For the last three years our imports at gold values have been as follows For 1866 . . . . $432,000,000 1867 . . . . . 392,000,000 1868 . . . . . . 349,000,000 For a year after the war, and while heavy imposts fell on production, our importations were large; but for the period of two years since 1866 there has been a gradual decline of eighty millions. With the recovery of the cotton crop and the revival of trade during the last spring, consumption began to revive, and is now increasing. The increase is chiefly in sugar, tea, coffee, and molasses, which are now yielding a revenue of more than sixty millions, or more than we drew from all our cus- toms prior to the war. Before the war the Southern slave contributed little to the revenue from customs, but now, with fair wages, he can buy groceries, and our duties on groceries, if we except tea, are lighter than those of England, and bear fairly on all classes, the rich consuming more freely than the poor. Few would wish to interfere with these duties, which yield a steady and reliable revenue, exceeding the estimates of the commissioners in 1865. Our consumption of foreign sugar, in addition to a hundred and fifty million pounds of domestic cane and maple sugar, has risen to one thousand and fifty million pounds. The consump- tion of molasses exceeds sixty-three. millions of gallons; that of coffee reaches two hundred and forty-five million pounds, and of tea thirty-four millions. Of these articles, tea alone calls for some modification of duty. For some years before the war the consumption was larger than it now is, and averaged one and one fifth pounds to each inhabitant. At this rate we should now have a consumption of forty-seven millions of pounds. The duty of twenty-five cents on some varieties exceeds one hun- dred per cent, and this not only checks importation, but leads to illicit trade. It doubtless would be wise to lower the duty 64 The Tariff of the United States. ten cents on the pound; for this, being in gold, would relieve the consumers to the extent of twenty cents a pound, if we allow for the percentage of the wholesale and retail dealer, and so promote the consumption both of tea and sugar as eventually to result in a gain to the state as well as to trade. While we have drawn more than sixty millions from gro- ceries, we have derived at least one hundred and four millions from other importations. And our first inquiry will be, can any of the duties on these imports be reduced or removed with benefit to the revenue? We will begin with tobacco. The tobacco we import differs from our own in flavor, and is used chiefly for making cigars. While the native leaf is ex- empt from tax, the foreign bears a duty of fifty cents a pound, or more than one hundred per cent; and this checks the manu- facture of cigars, in which the Connecticut leaf is used for the wrapper, and the Spanish for filling. A reduction of duty on the latter to twenty cents a pound would aid the revenue both directly and indirectly, since the cigars thus made pay an im- post of three dollars per thousand. The duty on foreign cigars, ad valorem and specific, has averaged nearly four dollars a pound, or more than sixty dol- lars per thousand, while our home-made cigars are taxed less than one twentieth of that amount. This high duty has raised the retail price from four cents at Havana to twenty cents in New York, and might be reduced with great benefit to the rev- enue: for whereas, in 1859, under a low duty, the importation of cigars amounted to eight hundred and twentynine millions, it has now fallen to twenty millions, a decrease of mo~e than ninety-seven per cent. Though a partial reduction has already been made, it has not been sufficient to revive the importation; but there is little reason to doubt that a duty of one dollar a pound would so stimulate imports as greatly to increase the revenue. If we allow for the growth of the country during the last iiine years, the cigars imported should now be eleven hundred millions; but if, by a duty of one dollar a pound, we could revive even the importation of 1859, the revenue would rise from a million to more than ten millions, and the increase of revenue on tobacco and cigars together would prob- ably attain to twelve millions of dollars. The Tariff of the United ~tates. 65 During the past year, the consumption has been largely sup- plied by the illicit trade. The sailor finds it easy to make fifty dollars by taking a few boxes ashore nuder his pea-jacket. The obliging officer of customs is propitiated by a broken pack- age as he opens the trunk, and allows five hundred or a thou- sand to pass free as sea-stores or private baggage; and the government thus loses no small sum, on the arrival of each packet from Cuba. The remedy is obvious and simple. The duty cannot be collected. Let it be put at fifteen dollars a thousand, or one dollar a pound, and a death-blow will be given to smuggling. Let not one pound of tobacco or cigars escape as sea-stores. If an attempt be made to introduce the article as baggage, let the baggage be confiscated, as it is in England. Under the charges proposed, the Spanish cigar might be again bought in American cities for six dollars a hundred. At the present moment, little or no pure brandy or gin can reach the people of this country. The average cost of these liquors does not exceed a dollar a gallon, but the.y are excluded by duties which average three dollars in gold; and thus the cost is carried up to five or six dollars a gallon. Under this sys- tem, the importation, which in 1860 reached six and a half millions of gallons, and in the due course of things should now exceed eight millions, has fallen to one seventh of that quan- tity, or to one and a tenth million gallons, in 1868. Wine has declined from nine to about five millions of gallons in the same time, under high duties. Were the duty to fall to two dollars a gallon on the alcohol they contain, with a further charge of three dollars a dozen on all imported in glass, we might at once carry our revenue from these sources up to ten millions. At present little or no pure spirit can reach the invalid. It cannot be procured. A distinguished chemist in New York, who imports the essence of Cognac and other flavors, testified before the revenue commissioner that but one gallon in ninety-nine of the spirit sold under the names of Cognac and Hollands was genuine. Is not the question merely this: Shall the nation, or the illicit trader and coun- terfeiter, profit by the consumption of alcohol? The importation of spices, since 1860, has receded from VOL. cvIII.NO. 222. 5 66 The Tariff of the United States. thirteen to seven millions of pounds. These vary in cost from three cents to sixty cents a pound. Pepper has cost on the coast of Sumatra, or in Holland, less than three cents, while mace, nutmegs, and cinnamon are much more expensive. The average cost of all, however, has been but a trifle over six cents a pound. On these spices the duties range from fifteen to fifty cents a pound, and average more than three hundred per cent. Such duties no wise government will undertake to collect. We often hear of seizures of the oil or essence of cloves on the frontier. The keen smuggler compresses his spices into the smallest compass, and easily evades the officer. A reduction in these duties of at least two thirds would benefit both the revenue and the morals of the nation. Spices occupy little space; but there is another condiment, essential to man and animals, more bulky and more important, which suffers from oppressive duties, that is, salt. The best salt is made by solar heat in the lagoons of Spain, Sicily, and the West Indies, or is found in mineral form near Liverpool, and sells at the ships side for a dollar or a dollar and a half per ton, equivalent to four or six cents a bushel; and, in countries where light duties are imposed, the consumption is in the ratio of fifty thousand tons to a million of people. Thus, in New Brunswick, where the duty is but three per cent, the annual importation approaches fifteen thousand tons, New Brunswick having a population of three hundred thousand. The people are chiefly engaged in the shipment of timber, and the return ships often bring salt in place of ballast. The Prov- ince has the triple advantage of low prime cost, low freights, and low charges; and were the United States to have the same advantage, with their forty millions of people, they might ab- sorb a proportionate amount, or two millions of tons. In 1860 we consumed in the United States, nuder a duty of fifteen per cent, eighteen hundred millions of pounds, or more than eight hundred thousand tons, of which four hundred and sixty thousand were imported. Were our consumption proportionate to our growth in population, we should import to-day at least six hundred thousand tons; but our duties have been advanced to an average of four dollars and sixty cents per ton, that is, to at least three hundred per cent in place of 1869.] The Tariff of the United States. 67 fifteen per cent; and oi~r importation has declined to two hun- dred thousand tons, while our manufacture remains compara- tively stationary. Is it the true policy of this country to maintain in peace war duties exceeding three hundred per cent on snch an indispensable article? Would it not benefit the revenue to carry up the importation to eleven hundred thousand, or possibly to two millions, of tons, at a lower duty? and would it not give a stimulus to other productions, and indirectly an increase of revenue, if we should abrogate the duty altogether? If by our tariff we exclude a million tons, more or less, do we not deprive our ships, that carry breadstuffs to the British Isles, petroleum, fish, and timber to Spain, Italy, and the West Indies, of return cargoes? Do we not deprive our railways of at least half a million tons of freight, in the cars which return empty to the West, after bringing cereals or cattle to the sea-coast? Can our ships afford to lose two millions of dollars, and our railways as much more? During the past summer sugar and coffee have been sent at six dollars a ton to Chicago, to occupy vacant space in cars and propellers mov- ing westward. Might not that space be well filled by salt? But it will be urged, What will become of the manufac- ture at Syracuse, Saginaw, and on the Kanawha? We answer, It has the protection of the freight from Europe and the West Indies to Western cities, equivalent to at least eight dollars a ton, or to a duty of several hundred per cent, which should be sufficient. If it is not, let us resume the duty we had before the insurrection; and if this double protection will not suffice, then the manufacture, in which but three millions of capital were embarked before the war, must give way to more important interests. The quality of the imported salt is superior to that of the domestic, better preserving both fish and meat. It moves in the right direction to give return freight. It does not con- sume our forests or our coal in the vaiii attempt to produce by artificial heat what elsewhere Nature has in her bounty made gratuitous. On one side we must place, first, the interest of our people in the acquisition of a great and essential staple of a bet- ter quality at the lowest cost; secondly, the freight which half a million tons at least would give to sLips and raibxyays, amount- 68 The Tariff of the United States. [Jan. ing to not less than four millions of dollars; thirdly, the duty received by the state. On the other side we have only the interest of some two hundred thousand dollars on three mil- lions of capital, and the employment of a less number of men than would be engaged in the transportation of the imported article. Our salt-springs can easily supply the districts around them, and now give striking proof of their productiveness by exporting to Canada some sixteen thousand tons annually. Protected by the cost of transportation, and provided in part with fuel by the waste of the saw-mill, they would doubtless maintain their position, and keep in reserve some fuel near them to furnish the nation with salt in time of war; but the nation would gain, by the reduction of the duty to ten or twenty cents per ton, a sum sufficient to meet the interest on all the capital invested in salt-works. There is one great interest, the fisheries, the school of our navy, in which twenty-eight thousand seamen were employed in 1862, which peculiarly feels the pressure of this duty. At the instance of the West, the remission of duties, once allowed them as a bounty, has ceased. While France and Canada grant large bounties, the only allowance made to our fisher- men is a drawback on salt used on the ocean, which they might buy in the Provinces. They still pay a duty of three hundred per cent on salt used ashore, while their rivals in the Bay of Fundy and Straits of Canso or Newfoundland pay a duty of only three per cent on the salt which both consume so largely. Our fishermen, our mercantile marine, and our navy, as also the West, which finds with these a market it may lose, are in- terested in the removal of the duty on salt. To pass now to wool. In 1864 we sent out fleets of vessels to Africa, Australia, and the La Plata for wool, and imported eighty-eight millions of pounds, which was made into cloth. Our duties were then but three cents a pound on wool cost- ing less than twelve cents, and but six cents a pound on wool costing from twelve to twenty-four cents. Since the war, although the apparent necessity has ceased, the wool- growers and manufacturers have combined to raise the tax both on wool and woollens, and the duty on all but the very coarsest wool for carpets has been advanced to an average of The Tariff of the United States. 69 fourteen cents a pound. This duty is imposed on an article which cost on the average but seventeen cents when the ad- vance was made, and which declined to fourteen cents during the last autumn. Why should we pay a hundred per cent on wool, if we wish to compete in manufactures with other nations? If on the plains of La Plata or on the savannas of Africa the merinO can be pastured through the year, and the fine mestiza wool sold for fourteen cents a pound, why should we tempt our farmers to leave dairies for sheep, and to set aside the cheese- press and the churn, when cheese commands seventeen cents and butter half a dollar a pound in our markets? If the Ohio or Vermont farmers cannot afford their wool for less than five times the price of that of the valley of the La Plata, let them not drive the ranclieros into the dairy or beef-packing business, which gives such liberal returns. Do our Western farms, which government sells for a dollar and a quarter per acre, or gives outright to the actual settler, require protection, when France, England, and Belgium, with pastures wortbi four hundred dol- lars the acre, and with seventy millions of sheep in their pos- session, admit wool free of duty, and are farther advanced in the manufacture of cloth? Two years since, we advanced our duties on wool and woollens. We did it upon the delusive theory, that fine wool ought to cost over thirty-two cents a pound, and pay a specifl~ con pled with an ad valorem duty. Then we assumed that woollens should pay a duty of fifty cents a pound for every pound of wool, jute, or cotton they contained, in addition to a heavy ad valorem duty. Meanwhile our trade with La Plata, Southern Africa, and Australia is broken up. Our importation of wool falls from eighty-eight millions of pounds in 1864 to twenty-three millions in 1868, a decline almost unprece- dented in the annals of commerce. Our ships are thrown out of employment: for the return freight of wool gave them two thirds of their profits, aud the foreigner cannot buy the outward cargo, unless we take his wool in payment. Our factories lose their supplies. The merchant loses the export of flour, furniture, fish, petroleum, coarse cottons, and wooden- ware to the Cape and La Plata; and the wool, diverted from 70 The Tariff of the United States. [Jan. our factories, passes on to the factories of England, France, and Belgium, and is there converted into cloth. Nor is this the end of the evil. The cloth comes over to Halifax, St. John, and Montreal, seeks the frontier, and, with little respect for our duties of eighty or a hundred per cent, finds its way into our territory; and tours of pleasure are made across the border to replenish wardrobes. The whole measure from beginning to end has been a mistake, and our woollen trade is depressed. England, France, and Belgium have long since abandoned the idea of a duty on wool, and have thus made their manufactures successful, while they are still among the largest sheep-producers of the world. But whatever may be done with the duties on woollens, there are few articles made from wool abroad which are not manu- factured here, and cor~equently do not compete with our own manufactures. Lastings, serge, and plush, however, which are not made here, are used extensively in the manu- facture of ladies and childrens boots and shoes; and the single city of Lynn pays more than two millions yearly for these materials, which are now subject to a duty of eighty-five per cent. The shoe-manufacture has in the last decade been raised from a trade to an art. The lapstone and the leather apron have been discarded. The steam-engine and the sewing- machine have superseded the hammer and the awl. Mechanism, in its various forms, prepares and fashions the slipper and the gaiter-boot, and relieves the artisan from the fatigue and mo- notony of a wearisome life. Should we hamper such a pro- gressive branch of industry with duties of eighty-five per cent on the material it is compelled to import? Again, we might indirectly add to our revenue by reducing, if not removing, duties on drugs, dyestuffs, and raw material; and if we wish to increase our revenue from customs, and to buy Brussels carpets for one and three eighths dollars a yard, as we did ten years since, instead of paying three dollars, as now, we must go back to the rates of duty that preceded the in- surrection. On cotton cloth there can be no occasion now for a heavy and almost prohibitory duty of five cents per square yard, when printing-cloth is produced in England for about that Tue Tariff of the United States. 71 price per yard. No intelligent cotton mannfacturer in Massa- chusetts calls for snch a duty. Thirty-five to forty per cent is the maximum demanded; and if we would draw a revenue from this branch of imports, which is declining, while the im- portation of groceries is on the increase, we must rednce the prohibitory duty. Who will object, if, for the purpose of creating revenue, we give vitality to trade by bringing down to thirty-five per cent all duties that exceed that rate, and making those duties specific? Our limits will not suffice to discuss such a measure in detail; but it may surprise the reader to know that an analy- sis of our imports for the year ending last June, which were valued at three hundred and forty-nine millions of dollars in gold, shows that sugar, tea, coffee, molasses, spices, and seeds made up one third of them, that manufactures and metals formed but another third, and that miscellaneous articles, of which hides and specie were a fourth, constituted the re- maining third. If we except a portion of the tax on tea, the duties on the first class are satisfactory, and ample to produce sixty-five mil- lions, or half the revenue now required from customs: in the past year they actually yielded sixty millions in gold. As re- spects the third class, or miscellaneous articles, we can easily draw at least twenty millions from wines, spirit, and tobacco, and five millions more from a few other articles of luxury, and let the rest go free. All, therefore, that we shall require from the second class, or tissues, metals, hardware, earthen and glass ware, amounting to one hundred and eighteen mil- lions of dollars, will be less than thirty-five per cent, or forty millions of dollars. Let us first particularize a few items in the three classes on which a reduction would benefit revenue. Among these are wheat and flour, oats and potatoes, lumber, fish, and coal, pig- iron and steel, tea and spices. If we levy a duty on the first two, we endanger the freights that we should realize on their transportation, with the commis- sions on their sales, and divert the chief part of them down the St. Lawrence to the ships of England, instead of benefiting our own ships and cities. Great Britain requires a large part of 72 The Tariff of the United States. the surplus of American produce, and will not pay us an inter- mediate duty. All duties on these articles can result in little beside loss of profits. On oats and potatoes the duties are prohibitory. The oats which might best supply the northern villages of New England cross the ocean; while the potato, shut out from our seaports by a duty of one hundred per cent, or twenty-five cents in gold per bushel, is given in the Provinces to swine, to supply the place of the corn-fed pork formerly imported from the West. It is easy to show that both parties lose by the inipost. Vegetables of quality superior to our own, anif easily trans- ported, are lost to the former consumers, while they are ap- plied by the growers with less profit to the production of inferior lard and bacon. The duty on lumber is collected largely from the prairie farmer or the humbler classes, who cannot indulge in the comforts of a brick or stone mansion, and who must provide themselves with a home before they can buy dutiable articles. As respects fish, the present duty on mackerel and herrings may be reduced with advantage both to the revenue and to our poor, especially to the latter, as the impost on these articles approaches closely to their prime cost. It is painful to think that the poorest classes suffer most from the present exclusion of these necessaries of life. Coal is another essential. All our seaports, except those at the mouths of the Hudson, Delaware, and Susquehanna, are remote from coal-mines, and very far from the deposits of bituminous coal. While the coal of Pennsylvania suffices for the grate and the furnace in dwellings, our Eastern sea- board requires the bituminous coal for its gas-works, iron furnaces, and ocean steamers, also that iron ore be easily accessible. While there is no coal, and a very indifferent supply of iron ore, east of the Delaware, and even that quite distant from the seaboard, Nova Scotia, directly opposite the New England coast, is underlaid by bituminous coal. Beds of it from twenty to thirty feet thick are found within a mile of navigable waters; and a vessel may sail for thirty miles along the Bay of Fundy, almost under the shadow of the Cobequid Mountains lined 1869.] The Tariff of the United States. with iron-stone. Most of the mines of Nova Scotia belong to citizens of the United States, who have furnished the capital to open them. Under the Treaty of Reciprocity, they sent their coal to New England and New York, where it was free from duty; but with the repeal of the treaty a specific duty of a dollar and a quarter per ton, equal to the prime cost at the mine, fell upon the miner, repressing all his energies. Under the treaty the mines of Pennsylvania prospered, their coal being employed for domestic purposes, while the provincial coal found other uses. The Pennsylvania coal was used, and still is used, freely in the houses of Nova Scotia, New Bruns- wick, and Canada, on account of its peculiar properties; and there can be no reasonable doubt that a reduction of the duty on coal, and the free admission of iron ores, will benefit both trade and revenue. In the great conflict already begun in manufactures between New England and Old England, cheap iron is essential to the success of the former. It enters into the wheel, the shafting, the spindle, and the loom, the rail and the steamship, into tools and implements of every kind. While England raises from the mine more iron ore than the United States, the latter con- sumes more than the former of the articles into which it is wrought. We are rich in ores, but our great deposits are in Western Pennsylvania, Missouri, and Michigan, from two hundred to a thousand miles from the ocean, while the rich ores of Nova Scotia and Great Britain fringe their sea-coasts. Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, and Missouri must therefore be the great seats of the manufacture of our native iron, and do a vast business; but the seaports of New England must draw a large part of their pig metal from the more accessible mines and furnaces of the British Empire, as return freight, like salt, in the ships which take out breadstuffs. Great Britain and her maritime colonies in America require annually a hundred million bushels of breadstuffs, and fifty per cent more in years like the last. We must expect to take some of their products in exchange; and what more desirable than their salt, iron, and tin? The tin now exceeds in value the pig-iron, and furnishes a basis for a large manufacture. 74 The Tariff of the United States. [Jan. We have no mines of tin, and its admission gives offence to no one. The pig-iron, at the duty which satisfies France, namely, four dollars per ton, would not go far into the in- terior ; but it would stimulate the manufactures of the sea- board, where it would come into healthful competition with American iron. Before the war, pig-iron was sold in Boston for twenty-four dollars per ton: it now commands forty-eight; and it is well understood that laborers at the furnaces of Pennsylvania have revelled in salaries that exceed the earnings of many of the clergy, lawyers, physicians, judges, and governors of New Eng- land and the West.* Is it the policy of the United States to exclude imports and keep down revenue by duties that bring such results? Our vast interior furnishes an ample market for most of our American iron, and if we reduce our present duty from nine dollars, which is sixty per cent, to six dollars, or forty per cent, the reduction of three dollars cannot send the imported iron more than three hundred miles from the sea-coast. Within this distance it will meet our own in fair competition. It will swell revenue, and give an impulse to all other manufactures. By the Bessamer process, pig-iron is easily converted into steel, and steel rails have been supplied in England at the moderate price of three cents a pound, or sixty-six dollars per ton. On many of our trunk lines of railway such as the IReading, Erie, and New York Central these rails are indis- pensable; as the iron rails, on sections where there is a con- fluence of traffic from many branches, give way in less than two years, while the steel rail will endure for twenty, and the steel rail must consequently be substituted to avoid frequent renewals and accidents. Our present duty on such rails is two and a quarter cents a pound, and Pennsylvania presses for an increase of all duties upon steel. The friends of cheap transportation and moderate prices should favor a reduction to thirty-five per cent on this important material. Our importations of fruit do not exceed two millions of dol- lars annually. The fruit trade is chiefly with the Mediter- ranean ports, and is important, as it has for many years fur- The iron-puddiers at Pittsburg have been paid from six to nine dollars per day. 175 The Tariff of the United States. nished the chief return for our fish, oil, and alcohol shipped to the South of Europe and Turkey. Much, too, of the fruit such as lemons, oranges, prunes, and figsis rarely produced in this country, except in portions of Florida, where the trees are periodically destroyed by frosts. These fruits are con- ducive to health, go far into the interior, and furnish excel- lent return freights for steamers and railways. Now while we collect a duty of twenty-five per cent on or- anges, grapes, lemons, and pine-apples, we subject almonds, currants, dates, figs, nuts, plums, prunes, and raisins to average duties of five cents a pound, or more than one hundred per cent on their average cost. Why this distinction? and why should such duties be levied on articles so refreshing, so ac- ceptable to all classes of people? They do not compete with our manufactures, but aid our commerce. Surely they should be free, or, at all events, not subject to duties exceeding twenty cents a box on lemons and oranges, and one cent a pound on nuts and dried fruit. Then there are seeds, important staples of commerce, which we import -from Europe and Asia, and on which the duties are not only excessive, but anomalous. Thus, we impose a duty of sixteen cents a bushel on linseed, and a dollar and sixty cents a bushel on canary seed, half a cent a pound on rape seed, fifty cents a pound on cardamom seeds, two cents on fennel, tbree on mustard and coriander, five on cumin, ten on anise star seed, twenty per cent on medicinal, and thirty per cent on gar- den seeds. Why should we continue such extravagant war duties, and make such nice distinctions? The lowest duty of all, that on linseed, is objectionable, as it raises the cost of paint, so essential to the preservation and beautifying of our houses. Should not these articles be free, or subject to merely nominal duties? The white marble of Italy is rarely found in perfection in large blocks in this country, and in but few quarries of Italy or Greece, except those of Carrara. If we desire a block of this marble for statuary or monumental purposes, we must not only pay a specific duty of a dollar per cubic foot, but also twenty-five per cent additional as ad valorem duty. These duties may have sufficed, during the late conflict, to drive our TO The TarijT of the United States. [Jan. Bduiptors to the war; but why should we compel them and the patrons of art, men of taste and fortune, to resort to Italy, whether they will or no, and import but eighty cubic feet of white marble, as we did in 1865, under imposts almost pro. hibitory? While Great Britain allows all nations to build ships for her, and contribute to the growth of her commercial marine, and while her own subjects build more vessels than all other na- tions combined, we have lost or parted with a third of our ship- ping, and now by our legislation have carefully provided that our loss shall be permanent. First, we have provided that no ship built in any country ex- cept our own shall be registered or enrolled or have the privi- leges of our shipping in the United States. Secondly, we have provided also that no vessel built within our limits, and placed for safety under the flag of any other nation, shall ever return under our own flag. Thirdly, we have imposed such duties on iron, cables, sails, rigging, and other materials, and so debased our currency, that no provident shipbuilder dares construct vessels for sale. Is this prohibitory legislation wise or salutary? or should it not at once be modified or repealed? At the present mo- ment trade is sadly depressed in the British Provinces. Ships can be built there at extremely low prices; and we require vessels to carry our coal coastwise, and to transport to Europe our large crops of cereals. Nova Scotia, the chief of the maritime provinces, has just taken the position, that she has, without her own consent, against her interests, and in violation of her charter, been legislated into the Dominion, from which she recoils. As we have no wish to build up a powerful na- tion on our northern frontier, a creation of Great Britain, half royal, half republican, would it not be wise for us to modify our laws for a few years to come, and allow Nova Sco- tia and Prince Edwards Island to build ships for us, admit them and the vessels that left our flag at a small duty, and concede that duty to our shipbuilders? If we wish for new propellers and steamships, we must either remit seven dollars for each ton built, or remit the duties. By such a policy we could not only recover a large portion of our loss, but establish also 1869.] ?~77 The Tariff of the United States. the most friendly relations with the maritime provinces, and thus benefit our commerce. And is it either just or wise for a nation that gave no convoy during the war, and was unable to protect its ships from cruisers, to ostracize either its subjects or its ships because they were put under a friendly flag? In all wars it has been common for nations whose shipping was ex- posed to resort to a friendly flag. It was for the interest of our nation that its shipping should be preserved, aud it savors of cruelty to punish those who contributed to its safety. The un- armed merchantman could not fight, and could render better service to the country under a friendly flag than under our own. And have we not reason to fear that those men who have opposed the return of our ships, and have claimed to be ultra-patriotic, have made their patriotism a cloak for a spirit that would exclude rivalry and monopolize commerce? We have glanced at some of the striking features of our tariff, and at some of its anomalous provisions. It has ap- peared that we can draw at least one hundred and twenty-five millions from our present duties on sugar, coffee, and molasses, and from reduced duties on metals and manufactures, spirit, wines, cigars, and tobacco (a few leading articles), that we may easily extract five millions more from a few other staples, and thus can afford to place nearly a fourth of our importations, includi. g wool, hides, drugs, dyestuffs, and other materials, and many trifling articles, on the free list. By confining our duties to a few articles, and extending our free list, we may revive foreign commerce, and reduce the cost of collection; and by thus diminishing the cost of the civil service, we shall further reduce the amount of revenue required. We may thus at once, after reserving ample revenue, bring down our tariff nearly half-way to its level before the war, or from forty-seven to an average of thirty-three per cent, and as our debt and interest diminish with the improvement of our revenue, year by year grant further relief. Already we have reduced our debt more than a fifth, our interest a third, and our expenses one half. We have made progress in our campaign, and are now fighting successfully the great battles of peace. With growing exports, and larger returns from cotton, at its present Sir Richard Steele. [Jan. price, than we realized before the war, with our interest reduced to one hundred and twenty-five millions, and our bounties paid, we may soon hope to bring down our expenses to one hundred millions, and to return to a gold and silver currency. The completion of the Pacific railway in June will be a great measure of free trade. The Republican party is pledged by its platform to reduce and simplify our taxes; and with honesty and intelligence at the helm, our debt will resolve itself into four or five per cent consols, the interest on it be paid by the imposts on spirit and tobacco, and our nation be free to de- vote itself to the development of the continent. E. H. DERBY. ART. IV. 3lemoirs of the Life and TV~ritin~s of Sir Richard Steele, Soldier, Dramatist, Essayist, and Patriot, with his Correspondence, and Notices of his Gontemporaries, the Wits arid Statesmen of Queen Annes Time. By HENRY II. MONTGOMERY. Edinburgh: William P. Nimmo. 1865. IN one of those na~fve sketches by which I mile Souvestre gently sought to correct the melodramatic tendencies of his countrymen, he describes a young Parisian visiting the pro- vincial estate to which he had fallen heir, and the disgust with which he contemplated the obsolete furniture, frugal ar- ranGements, and grim family portraits of the domain. Hav- ing determined to sell the whole inheritance, and retired to the uninviting bedroom to sleep, he had a vivid dream, wherein the ancestral effigies so repulsive to his taste seemed endowed with life, and successively stood at his bedside. The first de- scribed the laborious life which enabled him at last to pur- chase land, and leave it to his son, whose industry resulted in the erection ot a substantial dwelling. His successor entered the army and won a name for the family, which, thus provided with means and honor, was next represented by an educated citizen, whose heir, in turn, by his legal training and official rank, still further increased its prestige and wealth, which

Sir Richard Steele. [Jan. price, than we realized before the war, with our interest reduced to one hundred and twenty-five millions, and our bounties paid, we may soon hope to bring down our expenses to one hundred millions, and to return to a gold and silver currency. The completion of the Pacific railway in June will be a great measure of free trade. The Republican party is pledged by its platform to reduce and simplify our taxes; and with honesty and intelligence at the helm, our debt will resolve itself into four or five per cent consols, the interest on it be paid by the imposts on spirit and tobacco, and our nation be free to de- vote itself to the development of the continent. E. H. DERBY. ART. IV. 3lemoirs of the Life and TV~ritin~s of Sir Richard Steele, Soldier, Dramatist, Essayist, and Patriot, with his Correspondence, and Notices of his Gontemporaries, the Wits arid Statesmen of Queen Annes Time. By HENRY II. MONTGOMERY. Edinburgh: William P. Nimmo. 1865. IN one of those na~fve sketches by which I mile Souvestre gently sought to correct the melodramatic tendencies of his countrymen, he describes a young Parisian visiting the pro- vincial estate to which he had fallen heir, and the disgust with which he contemplated the obsolete furniture, frugal ar- ranGements, and grim family portraits of the domain. Hav- ing determined to sell the whole inheritance, and retired to the uninviting bedroom to sleep, he had a vivid dream, wherein the ancestral effigies so repulsive to his taste seemed endowed with life, and successively stood at his bedside. The first de- scribed the laborious life which enabled him at last to pur- chase land, and leave it to his son, whose industry resulted in the erection ot a substantial dwelling. His successor entered the army and won a name for the family, which, thus provided with means and honor, was next represented by an educated citizen, whose heir, in turn, by his legal training and official rank, still further increased its prestige and wealth, which Sir Richard Steele. 79 became consolidated into civic position and a handsome in- come through the self-denying economy and wise conduct of the next heir, who was thereby enabled to leave the new inheritor resources adequate to an eminent social position and life of leisure, open to all the refined enjoyments and broad culture of the present age. The young heir awoke with a sentiment of gratitude and respect for the progenitors on whose counterfeit presentments he had looked so disdain- fully. He recognized his obligations to those who had gone before, and became, for the first time, conscious, in his own per- 5On~ of the gradual process, the antecedent toils, sacrifices, and fidelity, through which he had attained his present advantages. There is an analogous lesson to be learned by the recipients of intellectu I benefits. The average culture of one age is the bequest of a preceding; the means and methods whereby taste is improved and knowledge acquired have been earned for us, often by long and patient work and noble self-denial; and among the benignities of the literature which is our peerless heritage, one of the most precious, because the least exclusive, is its social element, the labor of love that softened pedan- try into pleasure, that, by sympathetic tact, transformed the scholastic into the companionable, and made cloistered phi- losophy as familiar as household words. The times of Steele are, perhaps, more familiar to us than any other period of English history, as regai ds their political and social traits. Macaulay, in his reviews of the chief writers of that age, has incidentally, but with much detail, described them; and in Thackerays novel of Esmond we have many graphic and salient phases of the period. Between the robust and affluent development of the age of Bacon and Shakespeare, and the more refined and general culture of our own day, the reign of Anne seems to occupy a kind of table-land in the his- toric landscape, boasting no such degrees or qualities of lit- erary genius as the highest exemplars of either period, but, when thoughtfully contemplated, revealing the dawn of that average intelligence and the harbingers of those great reforms which distinguish modern Anglo-Saxon civilization. Especially is this apparent in the more enlightened appreciation and more humane expedients through which society has become culti 80 Sir Richard Steele. [Jan. vated, and criticism profound and elaborate. We recognize in the softened spirit of the public amusements and civil laws of the present day the advanced standard which the minor moralists of those days inaugurated, and refer the cosmopoli- tan and refined tone of llazlitt and Arnold to the new relish for the amenities of literature and life originally excited by Steele and his contemporaries. While Montaigne is justly entitled to the credit of having originated the social element of modern literature, by adapt- ing his vernacular, when a dead language was the distinction of scholars and the monopoly of thinkers, to the expression of thoughts near to the average experience of human nature, to the diffusion of knowledge and the division of the records of the mind, while an effort was made in the same di- rection by Lord Bacon, with, however, a certain stiffness and stateliness of diction, the reverse of colloquial, and while Abram Cowley and Sir William Temple imparted a new ease and elegance to the same species of writing, and La Bruy~re memorably adventured in characterization, which subsequently formed so desirable a phase therein, yet the originator of the social element in English literature was Sir Richard, as he was known in political history, or, as we best identify him in literary retrospect, Dick Steele. Without discussing the question of his merits as a writer, compared with his contempo- raries, and especially Addison, it is enough to recognize the fact that the idea of a colloquial critic and censor first found adequate illustration in his pen, that the fresh and free streams of knowledge, the wit and wisdom whose benign pur- veyors are his lineal descendants, first obtained currency and were made a circulating medium by his apt hand, warm heart, and frank utterance. Expanded, intensified, and diversified as the social element of literature has become, we can yet dis- tinctly trace it to this source, transmitted from Tatler to Rambler, from Citizen of the ~ATorld to Man of Feeling, from Seer to Friend, from Table-Talk to Sketch-Book, and so on to Noctes Ambrosiana~, now imposing in Edinburgh or piquant in Saturday Review, overflow- ing with the pathos of rhetoric in Carlyle or its brilliancy in Macaulay, naively quaint, tender, and true with humor in Elia, Sir Richard Steele. 81 profound in Coleridge, enjoyable in Hunt, cheery with sense in Sydney Smith, acutely a~sthetic in llazlitt, practical in Dc Foe and Franklin, eloquently paradoxical in Ruskin, ingenuously winsome in Goldsmith, hearty in tone or kindled and shaded with sentiment in Wilson, graceful in Irving, or grandiose in Johnson. Each and all of these, as well as numerous other writers, are distinguished from their predecessors by this genial social element, which has worked so great a revolution in the relation of letters to humanity, making them interfuse and in- terpret each other. That Steele consciously traced his felici- tous literary enterprise to social inspiration is manifest from his remark about Swifts conversation, which he describes as very advantageous to one whose imagination was to be con- tinually employed upon obvious and common subjects, though at the same time obliged to treat them in a new and unbeaten method. He was, indeed, far more of a companion than a scholar; his writings are as desultory as they are incomplete; with the exception of the comedies and some of the more elab- orate essays, he wrote hastily, often on the spur of the moment, and whenever the mood or necessity prompted; for he was often pressed for copey at the last moment, and not infre- quently the printers devil waited at club, tavern, or office-desk, while he finished a page. Yet few writers have been more in- dustrious. He wrote a poem called The Procession before he was of age, and in the intervals of his serial publications and dramatic pieces he issued the Ladys Library, Poet- ical Miscellanies, etc. And, besides his official routine and parliamentary duties, he was often busy upon some financial scheme, like the project of a patent fish-pool, whereby fish could be brought alive from all parts of the coast to London. He was an able and early advocate of Toleration, and his social talents were in constant requisition; so that, with politi- cal, official, and literary work, few men of the day were more busy and efficient than Steele in his prime. The ardor of his politics contrasts with the good temper of his censorship, and his want of thrift with his disinterested public spirit. Conviviality and extravagance are the only blots on his fair fame; there is not the slightest evidence to justify Macaulays surmise that he gambled, and his disparagement of Steele is VOL. cvni.No. 222. 6 Sir Richard Steele. a rhetorical expedient into which he was led by his partial estimate of Addison. Steele was one of those men of whom it is said, that they are their own worst enemies. Of sanguine temperament and ardent feelings, he possessed in large measure both the noble qualities and the weaknesses usually allied with them. All the inconsistencies that may coexist with a genuine love of right and truth, united to impulses of candor and generosity, mark his conduct; recklessness blended with benevolence, im- providence combined with occasional resolves of prudence and economy, and a social inclination too strong for the obligations of duty, alternately win and repel us; but the lovable quali- ties of the man soften our censure of his frequent want of self-control. At the commencement of his literary and offi- cial career, a thousand pounds which he borrowed of Ad- dison he promptly repaid; but from first to last he was embarrassed by debt, often at a loss to provide for imme- diate wants, and continually resorting to the temporary expe- dients of the spendthrift. He lived at a time when to drink deeply was the habit of society, and he is as frank in acknowl- edging his weakness in this respect as he is irresolute in its amendment. It is a surprise to those who follow his pecuniary troubles to the end to find that his debts were so small in comparison with those which at the present day bring extrava- gant authors to bankruptcy: he gave up his property to his creditors, and when their claims were satisfied there remained a very considerable sum for his children. lie forfeited an in- heritance in his youth by his independent course, bis West India property depreciated in value, and his wifes patri- mony was so heavily mortgaged that the income derivable therefrom only sufficed to meet the expenses of his childrens education. He was, therefore, often wholly dependent upon the avails of his pen and his appointments, and both were preca- rious. Still it is apparent that a little method, a systematic expenditure, and occasional retrenchment would have kept him free from the perpetual vexation and anxiety incident to pecuniary straits. These sadly marred the dignity of his life, disturbed the tranquil exercise of his mind, and exposed him to the shafts of malevolence. Alive to his parental obligations, 1869.] Sir Richard Steele. 83 he was at times keenly remorseful; he had not the patience to hoard, nor the self-denial to regulate his resources; he gave away injudiciously, was often imposed upon, and never vigilant in regard to his own interest: yet he was too little of a courtier to sacrifice his honest convictions for gain, and while dodging a creditor would relieve a beggar and entertain friends, when a more prudent man would have grudged the outlay. Two anec- dotes illustrate the occasions of Steeles conviviality. When in Edinburgh, as commissioner of the forfeited estates, he caused his servants to invite the poor in the neighborhood of his lodg- ings to an entertainment, at which he presided with graceful urbanity; and of this feast of beggars, he declared that it not only gave him the pleasure of filling many empty stomachs, but yielded him excellent materials for a comedy. To this, his first literary sphere, he reverted, when his periodicals had, one after another, come to an end, and partly wrote two plays, one of which was entitled The School of Action, and the other The Gentleman. A contemporary writer apologizes for Steeles over-indulgence at the Trumpet by saying that he had to celebrate the memory of King William, and at the same time to drink his friend Addison up to conversation pitch. Richard Steele was born in Dublin in 1671, and died at Carmarthen, Wales, in 1729. His father died when the son was eight years of age, and he appears to have derived the best of his early impressions from his mother, of whom his remi- niscences, though limited, are full of tender admiration. He married from love a fair and excellent girl, who lived but a short time, and to whom he alludes in his writings with fond praise. Of his second marriage we have a full account in his correspondence; it originated in the most devoted affection and esteem, and contributed immeasurably to his happiness. Of the three children that blessed this union, Eugene, a youth of singular promise, died some years before the period of man- hood; a daughter, Mary, was also taken away within a year of his own demise; another daughter, Elizabeth, who seems to have inherited much of her mothers worth and loveliness and her fathers magnetic attraction, and whose charms made her the object of pursuit by numerous lovers, among them Richard Savage, and one of whom it required all the 84 Sir Richard Steele. fathers epistolary skill to keep from continuing addresses which were not responded to, eventually married a gentle- man of distinction named Trevor. Steele was knighted by George I. in 1714. The last years of his life, after an in- effectual attempt to revive his failing health by a long so- journ at Bath, were passed in retirement in Wales, where his wifes estate was situated. The record of his domestic, official, and literary life is complete; but little is known of its secluded close, except that he found solace in the contempla- tion of Nature, in the exercise of benevolence, and in the fre- quent perusal of the Scriptures. An old contributor to the Tatler dedicated a work to him in warm terms of gratitude and respect, long after his name and pen had ceased to exert immediate influence in the busy world; we have an earnest letter of recommendation which he wrote to Walpole in behalf of a worthy aspirant for office; and there is a characteristic an- ecdote of his custom on summer evenings of sitting out on the green, near his residence, to watch the sports of the rustics, and giving an order to the best dancer for a dress. The same authority informs us that his life ebbed calmly away from the slow encroachments of paralysis, which weakened his mental as well as bodily vigor, but failed to cloud the serene spirit of old age or to change the cheerful sweetness of his temper. His first civil appointment, that of gazetteer, had made him familiar with the efficiency of periodical and cheap pub- lications as a means of reaching the business and bosoms of men through the press; his earliest literary enterprise, the little treatise called The Christian Hero, written dur- ing his brief military career, as the record of his earnest moral convictions and a pledge of his own reformation, had revealed a talent for popular ethical writing; and thus obser- vation and practice combined to inspire him with a just esti- mate of the use and beauty of this kind of literature. And the popular mind was at the same time prepared to accept and encourage it, because of the social charm which belonged to the favorite comedies of the day. Indeed, this class of dramat- ic writing first brought literature home to the average sym- pathies of society, by reproducing its characteristics and sat- irizing its follies. The classic drama in France appealed Sir Richard Steele. 85 chiefly to the educated class, but with Moli~re the true and intimate relations of literature and society were made apparent; people came thus to feel that life and letters had a subtile and sympathetic bond; the one interpreted the other; to hear on the stage the language of the salon, the cafe~, and the street was a pastime that opened a new intellectual pleasure to the multitude. It was the same with Goldoni in Italy; the most illiterate Venetian could appreciate the truth of his pictures of manners and the significance of his dialogue, the subjects and phrases of which were borrowed from actual and familiar life. Thus in England the comedies of Wycherley, Congreve, Farquhar, Vaubrugh, and others, by making the drama a social instead of an historical amusement, prepared the way for the colloquial censorship of Steele. And in this sphere also his own success had been memorable. When he exchanged the barracks for the library, the mess-room for the literary club, he first tried his hand at comedy. The Fu- neral, or Grief ~ la Mode, The Lying Lover, The Constant Lovers, and The Tender Husband, were all popular plays, especially the last; and they were entirely free from the ob- scene innuendoes and immoral tone which degraded his pre- decessors. Indeed, the chief fault found with Steeles come- dies was that their serious aim overlaid their vivacious style; but there is often a naYve grace in the dialogue, and a true feeling in the characters, which give them a certain attraction even now on the reading; and, besides the sprightly irony, they have the noble distinction of a purity which reformed the school of English comedy. Thus equipped, with fame as a dramatist, experience as a compiler of news, and practice as a literary moralist, Steele set himself heartily at work to expose the false arts of life, to pull off the disguises of cunning, vanity, and affectation, and to recommend simplicity of dress, manners, and behavior. The title of his semi-weekly talk with the public had in itself a charm for readers to whom wit and taste might have appealed in vain: it implied gossip, and every fancy sketch whereby the author sought to illustrate the foibles of the day was con- fidently applied to some well-known individual. It was by virtue not so much of the finish as the freedom of his style Sir Ricitard Steele. [Jan. that Steele won the attention of the town. Though a fluency of expression often singularly felicitous and a ready invention were his acknowledged literary merits, it was not until the Spectator had succeeded the Tatler, and Addison brought his classical discipline to the work, that all the charms of a refined style were added to those of quiet humor and colloquial genfality. But from the first the design and spirit of the en- terprise were wholly due to Steele, whose aim was, he tells us, to rally all those singularities of life, through the different professions and characters in it, which obstructed anything truly good and great: and the manner of thus exposing shams and advocating truth was not less his own; his plan being to allure the reader with the varieties of his subject and in- sinuate the weight of reason with the agreeableness of art, a process which, from his day to our own, has been the ideal of the social essayist, whose success depends upon the near- ness with which he approaches this goal. It is interesting, in the restrospect, to consider how Steeles life, character, and career specially fittQd him for the work he undertook. It was one for which mere scholarly acquirements were inadequate; it implied quick and broad sympathies, clear moral intuitions, and ample opportunities for observation and intercourse. In all these respects Steele was singularly fa- vored. His Irish blood and fiiank temper, if they exposed him to convivial indulgence, also put him into a relation with his fellow-creatures more cordial and candid than is apt to be the case with educated Englishmen. After a boyhood passed at the Charter-House School, where began his friendship with Addison, and a youthful training at Christ Church, Oxford, he relinquished his degree for a soldiers life, and, from being the favorite of a student-circle, became the idol of the mess- room. As secretary to Lord Cutts, who commanded his regi- ment, he obtained social privileges; but the idleness of a mili- tary life in time of peace made him a devotee of pleasure, until remorse drove him to portray the moral hero who could resist temptation and conform to the restraints of Christian manhood. This singular production indicates at once the moral courage of Steele, who could thus voluntarily brave the jeers of his boon companions, and also his natural proclivity to I 87 Sir Richard Steele. literature, although, like Coleridge, in a moment of chagrin, he had rashly espoused the profession of arms. Having been forced into a duel, and written many copies of verse in- spired by convivial and amatory impulse, he abandoned sol- diership and became a dramatic writer, and thence emerged into the arena of political life, dependent upon dynastic struggles and changes of ministries, holding successively the office of gazetteer, commissioner of stamps, member of Parliament, patentee of Drury Lane Theatre, and commis- sioner of forfeited estates of the Jacobites. Of his political career the record abounds with the fierce controversies and abrupt vicissitudes incident to patronage and party, and form- ing a striking contrast to the amenities of his literary life, for which, by nature and taste, he was better adapted. We cannot but feel that his true welfare lay in the peaceful path of letters, and that the strife and chagrins, as well as wasted powers, inevitable in the experience of the politician, were a poor ex- change for the beholding of the countenance of truth in the calm air of delightful studies. Arraigned for libel and sedi- tion, and expelled the House through the injustice of the opposition, afraid of the Pretender, and devoted to the House of Hanover, consistently befriended by Walpole, and meanly treated by the Lord Chamberlain, Steele made a gal- lant defence of his course as a politician, and proved himself a patriot by denouncing the nefarious South Sea Scheme, and opposing the permanency of the House of Peers, which latter question involved him in an acrimonious dispute with Addison, after a life-long friendship. His letter to Lord Ox- ford is a rare example of magnanimity in a partisan. His ear- liest political impulse arose from his admiration of William, and this was confirmed by his distrust of the Stuarts. Honest and brave in his convictions, and the kindliest of men, he yet did not escape the usual consequences of a political united with a literary career; for the close of his life was darkened by the clouds of party malevolence, and chilled by the aliena- tions of time, envy, and injustice. His writings, depreciated by Tickell, from a mistaken idea that he thereby added to his friend Addisons fame, were vulgarly attacked by Dennis, and brutally by Swift. Charged by Cibber with neglect of their 88 Sir Richard Steele. [Jan. mutual interests as patentees of the theatre, he retired from the scene of public life, with the consolation of having acted a patriotic part, and yielded but occasionally to the vitupera- tive spirit of faction, but also with the feeling that his best trophies and most serene usefulness were achieved in the pur- suits of authorship. Doubtless society then needed, as never before, the social element of literature; the time was ripe for its introduction, and to this fact much of the & uccess of Steeles experiment is due. So far had mind shared the corruption of manners, that the grand old masterpieces of Elizabeths reign were neglected in favor of a meretricious drama, the wit of which rarely atoned for its indecency; thousands were familiar with Dryden for one who knew Shakespeare. Educated men were pedantic, and made no impression upon the ignorance of the masses and the frivolity of society; that vast middle class, neither blest with academic training nor abandoned to illiterate mediocrity, but disciplined in taste by the study of what is best in the past and most vital in the current writing of their own tongue, had not begun to exist. The prevalent moral tone had two ex- tremes, the rigor of the Puritan, and the abandon of the pleasure-seeker; brutal sports disgraced the lower, and unscru- pulous profligacy the higher ranks; piety was ridiculed, faith repudiated, and conversation either vapid or low. It was the age of periwigs and sedan-chairs, of French fashions, not on- ly in manners, but in letters, the age when a court favorite could intrigue successfully for the downfall of a ministry, the age of the avaricious Marlboroughs, of Bolingbroke and Harley, Mrs. Masham and Dr. Garth, of Blenheim and The Beggars Opera, of Lady Mary and Parnells Her- mit, when criticism was represented by the coarse invectives of Dennis, when Congreve was ashamed of his fame as an au- thor, preferring that of a gentleman, an age of gambling and of grossness, whose highest poetry was found in the polished heroics of Pope, and most effective wit in the rough satire of Swift, and in which the pure benignity of Berkeley seemed an angelic exception to the social standard. Never were lay preachers more needed, a high criticism more indispensable, or a reform in taste and manners so essential to human wel- ogress. Sir Richard Steele. 89 How congenial the form of literature he adopted was to Steele is evident from his constant recourse to it. After the Tatler had flowered into the Spectator, and when that favorite series of the British Essayists had long ceased, he issued successively The Guardian, The Englishman, Chit-Chat, The Tea-Table, and Table, Town, and Club Talk. To defend his rights as patentee, he started The Theatre, to argue the peerage question, The Plebeian. Indeed, with all the progress we have made in agreeable methods of serving up literary trifles, the plan of these early essays has never been excelled; published in octavo form twice a week, they were collected and republished in hand- some volumes, and from the ephemeral passed to the library shape. The dedications of the different volumes suggest how intimately they were associated with the leaders in society and politics. If we trace the entire process and progress of those first successful experiments, we find they sprang from a wide and genuine social inspiration. Steele was a government em- ployee and a dramatic director, a man of politics and of society, of clubs and court, and thus open to all the influences of his time. Hence the aptitude of his address and the ease of his communications. He brought his daily observations of life, his gleanings in society, his early studies, his critical estimates of authors and actors, and his reflections on the destiny and duty of his fellows, to bear on his essays, now drawing a pathetic picture, and now entering a satirical protest, advocating ameliorations in manners, suggesting improved standards, win- ning to more wise pastimes and more gracious intercourse. Ac- cording to Gay, the effect was most salutary; gambling became disreputable, fops ridiculous, conversation manly, simple tastes prevalent, and literary culture a recognized resource. In its palmy days the Spectator was not less recreative than re- forming; indirectly it gave birth to permanent literary achieve- ments, inspiring Popes sacred lyric, leading to the appreciation of Milton and Shakespeare, and suggesting to Akenside the Pleasures of the Imagination. The story of Selkirk, by Steele, was the germ of Robinson Crusoe; the characteristic sketches of Sir Roger, Bickerstaff, and other humorous ideals, were prophetic of Shandy and Pickwick; and the machinery of 90 Sir Richard Steele. an imaginary club has been repeatedly an effective device of English literature. The circulation of these serials appears to us quite limited; Addison says, in the tenth number of the Spectator, that three thousand copies were sold daily: but those w~ere not the days of universal reading, nor of steam presses; and it is as the harbinger of periodical lit- erature, the original impulse and precedent thereto, that we must estimate the experiment of Steele and his coadjutors. In it we find the auspicious dawn of purity in style, recti- tude in morals, geniality in tone, sympathy in sentiment, grace in diction, and good sense in discourse, which, as ele- ments of literature, had never before been so combined and made vital by true social inspiration. The general purpose of the whole, wrote Steele, has been to recommend truth, honor, and virtue, as the chief ornaments of life; but I con- sidered severity of manners was absolutely essential to him who would censure others, and for that reason, and that only, chose to wear a mask. The adoption of an astrologers name was a humorous disguise well adapted to this object; and when Addison was fairly enlisted in the work, it assumed more finished proportions, and ushered in, not only a better era of manners, but a higher standard of criticism, which at length expanded into the noble literature in this department which has so incalculably refined and enlarged the intellectual pleasures available to the countless readers of the English language in our day. What the genial temper and compan- ionable cleverness of Steele conceived and initiated the classic taste and humane wisdom of Addison perfected. The formers part in the auspicious enterprise is to be ascribed to his char- acter, the latters to his culture; for it is the distinction of social over conventional literature, that its charm comes from the heart more than the head. Fortunately, we have a means, unique and adequate, for justly estimating the native disposition and real character of Steele. His wife preserved every scrap of his written commu- nications to her, however casual, brief, and unimportant. It is remarkable what a key is thus furnished to the knowledge of his heart and habits. The more thoughtful letters, wherein he first pleads his lovers cause, give us a complete insight into 1869.] Sir Richard Steele. 91 his ardor of sentiment, religions convictions, and generous im- pulses; and throughout the twenty years of his married life, when his wife was at Hampton Court, Hereford, York, Wales, or London, his notes, appointing to meet her, explaining some domestic or business affair, excusing his absence, seeking to reconcile a slight misunderstanding, or giving some trifling information, make us vividly aware of how he felt, what he thought, and the manner in which his time was spent. To a reflective and observant reader, these waifs hint vastly more than they express, indicate an entire personal history, and suggest all the lights and shades of character. Swifts Journal to Stella is more full of details political and social, and Boswells Life of Johnson far more illustrative of opin- ions and peculiarities; but neither is so spontaneously and sincerely autobiographic. We learn from them how des- ultory were the pursuits, how social the life, how convivial the habits of Steele; they guide us to his haunts, make us aware of his daily routine, of his intimate associates, of the hours he keeps, the dress he wears, and the things he does; they admit us to his consciousness; they transport us from the Treasury to the club, from the dinner-party to the thea- tre, from duns to duties, from court to his home. Especially do they reveal the facts and feelings of his conjugal rela- tion. We follow the tender husband~ from Addisons table to Tonsons bookstore, from a meeting of Directors to the Upper Flask on the edge of the Heath, and thence to the coach where his wife awaits him for an airing. His literary plans, his political prospects, his excesses, and his remorse are naively hinted or frankly told, often in a single line. We form, too, a vivid conception of Mrs. Steeles charms and char- acter. His badinage about her economies, probably forced upon her by his improvidence, the frequency of his engage- ments, and the pressure of his necessities, the magnetism that draws him to her, and the employments or pleasures that keep him away, furnish hints whereby one experienced in life-dramas can infer all the secrets of their m6nage, and all the phases of their intercourse. Above all, these little notes, in every phrase and tone, evidence Steeles warm, wise, and chivalric appreciation of woman, a sentiment rare in his day, 92 Sir Richard Steele. [Jan. and one which had more to do with the tenderness of his writ- ings and the moral consistency of his counsels than appears to the careless reader. To him it were needless to plead for womans rights; he recognized them, not indeed as external civ- il privileges, but social authorities, in her very nature. Love, to him, was associated with, or rather sanctioned by, religion; he revered the mind, the spirit, the character of her he loved; he lived in his affections. Without deliberately putting him- self, like Burns, on the regimen of admiring a fine woman, without the ~sthetic subtilty of Tennyson or the reckless pas- sion of Byron, without morbid sentimentality on the one hand or ideal refinement on the other, Steele devoted his heart to a being not too bright and good for human natures daily food, and yet one whose beauty and grace of soul controlled, while it cheered and charmed. Prue seems a humble ap- pellative beside Beatrice and Laura; she is no heroine of Pla- tonic dreams or romantic devotion, no brilliant intelligence like Madame de S6vign~, or social queen like Madame licca- mier, no H6loise, Vittoria Colonna, or Portia, but a true and lovely English wife, fond and fair, but also noble, firm, and wise. She is a helpmeet, a companion, a guide, a grace; one whose coldness dismays, whose appeal melts, whose example nerves, whose love makes happy; to love whom increases self-respect, and whose favor is sought only in candor and faith, by no arts, but through manly, generous, honest affec- tion. His recognition of womans needs as a rational crea- ture, and his respect and tenderness for her, as evinced in his writings, are confirmed by, or rather originated in, his private experience, as a glance at the singularly preserved notes and letters to his wife clearly manifests. At the outset of his courtship he writes: I have not a thought which relates to you that I cannot in confidence be- seech the All-seeing Power to bless me in: this is unusual language to ladies, but you have a mind elevated above the giddy vanities of a sex ensnared by flattery ;and again: If the advantages of a liberal education, some knowledge of, and as much contempt for, the world, joined with endeavors towards a life of strict virtue, can qualify him as her life companion, he is ready to pledge himself thereto; and as reciprocal sen Sir Richard Steele. 93 timents awaken, his faith and happiness increase: To pass my evenings, he writes, in so sweet a conversation, and have the, esteem of a woman of your merit, has in it a particu- larity of happiness no more to be expressed than returned. The prayer he composed before marriage reminds one of Dr. Johnsons declaration, that there should be two forms for the solemnization of matrimony, one for conventional and one for love unions, the holy Church service being too good to cele~ brate the former. Absence is desolation to the lover: My books are blank paper, my friends are intruders. Interrup- tions to their fond communion elicit the most tender apolo- gies: Dearest being on earth, pardon me, if you do not see me till eleven oclock, having met a schoolfellow from India; or, Delayed: business with the Treasury ; or, I lay last night at Addisons ; or, I am with young Tonson at the Griffin Tavern, where I shall dine on a scrap ; or, I beg pardon that I am to dine with Mrs. Montagu. Anon there are signs of financial troubles: I desire you to send me a guinea; I am at a juncture ; I shall have cash in the morning ; My money has not come to hand, and I am very impatient for it, because I would show you, as soon as it is in my power, a reformation in the management of my expense ; Dear Pine, I stay near the Devil Tavern until I can see Will Elder- ton; All my endeavors tend to extricate my condition, and leave no debt but that to a good wife and a few dear inno- cents; I send you a guinea, send me some linen; Mr. Glover accommodates me with some money that is to clear the present sorrow this evening I have made up my account with Mott, enclose receipt for saucepan and spoon: this brings you a quarter of a pound of Bohea, and as much green tea ; There is nothing troubles me so much as the consideration that the most amiable and deserving of her sex is obliged to suffer the uneasiness that I do. Little storms occasionally cloud the serene heaven of their love, but they seem only to purify the atmosphere, and usher in brighter skies. It is wonderful, writes the harassed husband, when you know what I had to do last night, that you should talk to me thus; his tears overflow at the recollection of their little miffs and then he is so frank and penitent: Ten thousand times, 94 Sir Richard Steele. [Jan. my dear, dear Prue, I have been in very great pain for having omitted writing last post. You know the unhappy gayety of my temper, when I get in, and, indeed, I went into company last night; I am, dear Pine, a little in drink; I am very sick with too much wine last night ; Thank God, matters are now settled after such a manner, and the renewal of my employments has enabled me to invite you hither, where you shall be attended with plenty, cheerfulness, and quiet. And in the midst of his anxieties expressions of attachment break out, evidences of conjugal appreciation multiply, and we see his faithful heart beneath all the follies of his conduct: You are vital to my life ; I do assure you there is noth- ing on earth, except mine honor, and that dignity which every man who lives in the world must preserve to himself, that I am not ready to sacrifice to your will ; My life is bound in you. It has been surmised that Lady Steele, with all her personal charms, was deficient in magnanimity, and over-frugal. The evidences of the latter trait, in the cor- respondence, indicate that carefulness in expense was a ne- cessity with her, consequent upon his reckless profusion. She nobly adopted his natural daughter into her affections, and seems to have had his welfare fondly at heart. Dear Pine, he writes, do not send after me, for I shall only be ridicu- lous; I send you word to put you out of frights ; I can never be what they call thoroughly frugal; I shun all engage- ments that would ensnare my integrity ; Thank you for your perseverance in urging me to have done with the herd of indigent, unthankful people, and your kind fear that I do not take care of myself; I am ready to melt with gratitude for your goodness in bearing so long as you have; your affair is to keep yourself cheerful. The appointments he makes with her are truly lover-like: she is to come in a chair and bring his holi- day attire, that they may take the air together I dine with Lord Halifax, he writes, but for thee I languish; I can- not come home to dinner; but if you will call here, we will take the air together ; I am very impatient to have this matter ended some way or other, that I may be with you and the brats ; An expression of yours Good Dick has put me in so much rapture. Equally tender as a parent, his notes Sir Richard Steele. 95 to Moll and Betty are as fond and frank as those to Prue. Miss Moll, he writes to the latter, has taken upon her to hold the sand-box, and is so impatient in her office that I can- not write more. How easy to imagine the petted child, eager to aid the epistolary work of the indulgent father, and by her wiles making him abruptly close his letter thus! Again he writes to dearest Prue: Miss Moll grows a mighty beauty, and she shall be very prettily dressed, as likewise shall Betty and Eugene; and if I throw away a little money in adorning my brats, I hope you will forgive me. And to them, after their mothers death, his letters are full of kindly counsel and pa- rental love: My tears are ready to flow, when I tell you that I am, dearest creatures, your most affectionate father. Countless similar gleanings might be made from these inci- dental little missives, but enough has been cited to give us a veritable glimpse into Steeles domestic life and warm heart, and to make us realize what pure inspiration his mind thence derived, and how genuine was the source of the social litera- ture he originated. There have been memorable tributes in art and letters to women, offered by the gifted and renowned to the objects of their passion and the faithful companions of their lives; but few seem to us so emphatically to hint the beauty of conjugal devotion as an allusion of Steele to his wife, when in his lonely self-reproach he writes: The best woman man ever had cannot now lament and pine at his neglect of himself. All the vigilant and earnest solicitude of conjugal love, and all the generous waywardness of its object, are apparent to the imagination in this spontaneous regretful tribute. HENRY T. TUCKERMAN. 96 New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. [Jan. ART. V. THE NEW CATALOGUE OF HARVARD COLLEGE LIBRARY. THE condition of a librarian whose library is uncatalogued is indeed pitiable. To know that he has a book and not be able to lay his hand upon it, to find too late that he has bought one that he already possessed, to discover that his mem- ory, upon which he can depend for the books in general use, is of no avail for those which are sometimes wanted very much, although not wanted often, and to spend in a search which may be fruitless more time than would have supplied him with the guide he needs, these must be his frequent trials. And whoever has charge of more than twenty thousand volumes, even if he has a list of the authors, must continually feel the want of an index of subjects to assist his memory and supplement the classification on the shelves. If it were pos- sible, in arranging a growing library, to maintain many and minute subdivisions, and if books of the same class could al- ways be brought together, it would be easier and more satis- factory for an inquirer to be sent to the alcoves than to be referred to a catalogue. No list of books can tell him so well as the books themselves whether they will suit his purpose. Let the divisions be so minute that he shall not be obliged to examine many books in making his selection, that is, let part of the selection be done to his hand by the librarian, and he can quickly find what he wants, if it be in the library. But, to be entirely satisfactory, the arrangement must be complete, and that is not possible. Not only will the irregular increase of the library occasion continual inconvenience, now one class and now another receiving great accessions and overflowing its limits, but there are dther, more serious difficulties, which, if the classification is to be preserved, will cause great cx- pense. It is true that the assertion has lately been made in regard to the Giittingen Library, that the classification, which was the work of ileyne, was so thoroughly scientific, that, when once explained to any one, he could find any book in the library without the aid of librarian or catalogue. * But this * Harpers Weekly, August 15, 1868, p. 523.

96 New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. [Jan. ART. V. THE NEW CATALOGUE OF HARVARD COLLEGE LIBRARY. THE condition of a librarian whose library is uncatalogued is indeed pitiable. To know that he has a book and not be able to lay his hand upon it, to find too late that he has bought one that he already possessed, to discover that his mem- ory, upon which he can depend for the books in general use, is of no avail for those which are sometimes wanted very much, although not wanted often, and to spend in a search which may be fruitless more time than would have supplied him with the guide he needs, these must be his frequent trials. And whoever has charge of more than twenty thousand volumes, even if he has a list of the authors, must continually feel the want of an index of subjects to assist his memory and supplement the classification on the shelves. If it were pos- sible, in arranging a growing library, to maintain many and minute subdivisions, and if books of the same class could al- ways be brought together, it would be easier and more satis- factory for an inquirer to be sent to the alcoves than to be referred to a catalogue. No list of books can tell him so well as the books themselves whether they will suit his purpose. Let the divisions be so minute that he shall not be obliged to examine many books in making his selection, that is, let part of the selection be done to his hand by the librarian, and he can quickly find what he wants, if it be in the library. But, to be entirely satisfactory, the arrangement must be complete, and that is not possible. Not only will the irregular increase of the library occasion continual inconvenience, now one class and now another receiving great accessions and overflowing its limits, but there are dther, more serious difficulties, which, if the classification is to be preserved, will cause great cx- pense. It is true that the assertion has lately been made in regard to the Giittingen Library, that the classification, which was the work of ileyne, was so thoroughly scientific, that, when once explained to any one, he could find any book in the library without the aid of librarian or catalogue. * But this * Harpers Weekly, August 15, 1868, p. 523. 1869.] New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. 97 is evidently extravagant. Books on different subjects are often bound together. Did the G~ittingen Library always take them apart and rebind them separately? Books often treat of several distinct topics. Were as many copies purchased as there were subjects? If not, then the single copy, placed in one of the divisions to which it appropriately belonged, would never be seen by a person looking through another. But in a catalogue the classification is independent of the binding, and a title may be entered under as many divisions as we please, though the book can stand on but one shelf. Till within a few years the library of Harvard College was without any satisfactory index of subjects, but almost too well supplied, if we look to number rather than quality, with cata- logues of authors. To ascertain whether a given work belonged to it, one might have to consult, personally or by deputy, four different alphabets.* In 1861 it was felt to be abso- lutely necessary to do away with this evil, and at the same time to provide a catalogue which should be accessible. to all. Printing was out of the question, as all the funds were needed for the purchase of books. A printed catalogue is always costly; if full and accurate, it is very costly; and only such a one could be thought of. Noblesse oblige. The large library of a learned university could not publish a meagre and ill-arranged list, full of mistakes and sparing of information. To persons at a dis- tance a printed catalogue is of course very useful. But those who can come to the library itself find one kept on cards nearly as convenient. The principal objections are, that two persons cannot consult the same portion at once, and that it presents to the eye only one title at a time, whereas a printed catalogue often has all an authors works on a single page. The first objection may be fatal, wherever the number of bor- rowers is very great, as in the New York Mercantile Library, or the circulating department of the Boston Public Library. * Two printed volumes, with an inconvenient index of subjects, comprised ev- erything received before 1830; a printed supplement embraced the accessions of the next four years; the manuscript titles of all pamphlets acquired between 1833 and 1850 were pasted in eight unwieldy folios; and another supplement, written on cards, included the volumes received during that period, and the later accessions of all kinds. The supplements could be used by the public only through the inter- vention of the attendants. VOL. CVIII. NO. 222. 7 98 New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. [Jan. But in college or society libraries, the inconvenience, though felt, is not unendurable, and might be in some measure obvi.. ated by printing those portions which are most used. On the other hand, the cards have this great advantage, that additions can always be made without disturbing the alphabetical order. A printed catalogue is out of date before it is published. As it cannot contain the newest books, the very ones most sought for, fresh supplements are continually needed, each of which causes an additional loss of time and patience to consulters.* In 1861, then, the head of the cataloguing department, Mr. Ezra Abbot, devised a plan for a new catalogue, which, even during the course of its execution, has been found to work remarkably well, and has greatly increased the usefulness of the library.~ The titles, written on separate cards, five inches long and two wide, are arranged in drawers. Each new title can be in- serted in its place as soon as it is written. Such a catalogue does not get out of date, there are no supplements to weary, no interleaved entries to perplex. It is not cumbrous, like the folios of the British Museum, and does not, like them, require continual repasting and rebinding. On the other hand, it pre * By adopting Professor Jewetts suggestion of stereotyping the titles separately, these disadvantages might he somewhat lessened. He would have a supplement published as often as the accumulation of matter called for one; which, in a rapidly increasing and much-used library, might he once a month, in a smaller library, bimonthly, quarterly, or semiannually. Except in the ease of periodicals, serial and other continued works, the composition, proof-reading, corrections, and stereo- typing would then be done once for all. As soon as the supplements became so numerous as to cause inconvenience, it would only be necessary to rearrange the entire mass of stereotyped titles and print the whole in one ucueral catalogue. The process could be repeated as often as might be expedient, at an expense little exceedingthat of paper and press-work. (See his paper in the Proceedings of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, August, 1850.) The first cost of block-titles would be greater than of ordinary thin stereotype-plates, but the cost of arranging them would be very much less than that of cutting up and resoldering the plates. When it is considered that the chief expenditure in printing a catalogue is for composition and correction, and that supplements, when their nuniher ex- ceeds four or five, are nearly useless, because few persons will take the trouble to hunt through so many alphabets, it will be seen how great are the advantages which this plan offers. But it has never been tried. t Although the drawers already contain over 200,000 cards, two thirds of the work still remains to be done, only about one half of the volumes and one ei~hth of the pamphlets having been as yet entered. 1869.] New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. 99 sents oniy one title to the eye at once, so that some time is lost in turning over cards, and it is not so easy as if it were in book form either to find the particular title that is wanted or to compare different titles and make a selection. It is more difficult also to pick ones way among the confusing series of names like Godefried, Godefroi, Godofredus, and Gottfried, or among the Allens, the Williamses, or the John Smiths. There is more danger, too, that the proper order will be dis- turbed; and a card misplaced is t6mporarily a book lost. * Some mechanical appliances facilitate the use of the cata- logue. Two buttons at the back of each drawer prevent any one from unintentionally pulling it entirely out, and spilling its contents upon the floor, and yet allow its removal, when de- sired, for the addition of cards, or any other purpose. A fixed trapezoidal block in the front part of the drawer, and a simi- lar movable block behind the cards, each being wider at the bottom than at the top, hold the cards in such a position that they incline at a convenient angle, and any title may easily be read without raising them from the drawer. The block be- hind is readily adjusted to the place desired by a thumb wedge. Blocks about one eighth of an inch thick, inserte4 between the cards at intervals of about two inches, have on their upper edge letters showing to what part of the alphabet the cards follow- ing them belong. Thus, one looks for Armstrong after a block labelled ARM, and for Lipenius after Lw.t With these helps it is almost as easy to find a name as in a dictionary, the blocks corresponding to the headings of the pages or columns. It was easier to plan the drawers in which the new cata- logue should be kept than the system on which it should be constructed. This much was plain: it must be double, an index of authors and of subjects; for readers desire to know * The danger in this respect from a careless public can be easily avoided. The titles of Dickenss works were so often taken out and misplaced, that the experi- ment of extending a wire over the cards from front to back was tried arid proved successful. Being easily unfastened, it does not interfere with the insertion of new cards. It is thought that a small cord would be still better. I Some autbors are honored with a block to themselves) hearing their whole names, as Dickens, Macaulay, Shakespeare, and Thackeray. But the marks of incessant use exhibited by the cards under those names would perhaps have in- dicated their place as well. 100 New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. [Jan. one of two things, whether the library contains a book by a particular author, or else whether it contains a book on a par- ticular subject (or of a particular class, as a play, a poem, a novel). The first part, it was determined, should include in one alphabet the authors not merely of books and pamphlets, but of all important papers in the memoirs and transactions of learned societies and in periodicals, a thing which no library in the country had attempted. But even with this addition the catalogue of authors presented fewest difficulties. The rules for making one have long been matter of discussion, and although bibliographers are not agreed upon all the details, although periodicals and pseudonymous books and publications of societies are still entered in large libraries in different ways, yet almost all the rules may be reduced to two great prin- ciples: first, that books shall be catalogued under the name of the author, or (in the case of collections) the editor, or the body responsible for their publication; second, that, if this is not known, the first word in the title not an article or a preposition shall be taken for the heading.* The application of these princi- ples, however, may still often puzzle the cataloguer. Shall periodicals, for instance, be put under the editors name, as that of the responsible person, or, as anonymous, under the first word of the title? The former at first sight seems most reasonable. A little consideration, however, shows that it is, * An exception is generally made to both rules by entering tbe books of the Bible collectively nnder thnt title, instead of scattering them under Pentateuch, Judges, Chronicles, Isaiah, Ezekiel, Matthew, John, Paul, etc. By this device are avoided all disputed questions of authorship, all douhts as to the choice of a heading, whether, for example, Solomon, Song of Solomon, Sonb of Songs, or Canticles, and all difficulties arising from the names of the hooks differing in different langun,, es. The Talmud, and sometimes, hut with less justification, the Eddas, are treated similarly. Almost all lihraries find it convenient to make two exceptions to the second rule, by entering anonymous biographical works under the name of the subject of the biography, and letters addressed to a person under his name. Some, including, I believe, the British Museum, enter anonymous works relating to any place under the name of the place; but this is of very doubtful expediency. All three excep- tions are open to the charge of mixing subjects with authors, and in general it may be remarked, that it is best to admit as few deviations from a rule as possihle, and to choose that rule which requires the fewest; for it is very difficult to teach those who consult a catalogue what the exceptions are. Similarly, as little as possible shoul4 be left to discretion; for, in a matter of discretion, people often disagree, and the reader may find it hard to discover how the cataloguer has used his. 1869.] New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. 101 if not quite impracticable, at least open to very grave objec- tions. There can be no uniformity of entry on this system, for the editors of very many periodicals are unknown or diffi- cult to ascertain. Nor is the matter mended much by de- ciding to use the editors name only when it appears on the title-page; for a long-lived periodical may change its editors a dozen times. Which shall be taken, the first or the last? If the last, a new heading must be adopted every time the editorship changes, which is impossible when the catalogue is printed, and causes continual rewriting and rearranging when it is in manuscript. If the first name is taken, the entry is not readily found; for those who know a periodical by the editors name at all know it by the name of the editor of the day. The suggestion of taking the naiue to which reference is most commonly made in books is futile. This would re- quire, in every doubtful case, that all books likely to con- tain such references should be examined to ascertain what is the prevailing practice. And such examinations would show that there is in fact little uniformity among writers in this respect. On the whole, the easiest and most satisfactory plan, both for those who make and those who use a catalogue, seems to be to treat periodicals like anonymous works. But the perplexities on this point are not yet at an end. Not merely what is published once a week or once a month is a periodical; annuals belong to the same class, and therefore almanacs. Now whichever rule is adopted in regard to al- manacs, the unlucky cataloguer will wish he had adopted the other, and what he does to-day he will repent to-morrow. Suppose, that, having decided upon the first word system, he has to deal with Dudley Leavitts almanac. In 1809 he finds it entitled The Scholars Almanack, and Farmers Register, which he enters without hesitation under Schol- ars.~, Presently he meets with Leavitts Genuine, Improved New-England Farmers Almanack and Scholars Diary, which of course is put under the letter L. In a few weeks some one gives him The New-England Almanack for 1842, which he catalogues under N. Leavitts New-England Farmers Almanack, Leavitts Improved New-England Farmers Al- manack, The Farmers Almanack, and Leavitts Old 102 New catalogue of Iliarvard College Library. [Jan. Farmers Almanack, are disposed of as easily. But, in arranging them, he finds that he has put the parts of one and the same series, numbered consecutively and edited by the same man, under four different letters of the alphabet, and that under one of those letters, L, he has four different head- ings, seven entries in all. In the same way The Gentle- mens and Ladies Diary of 1802 becomes Houghtons Genuine Almanac in 1804, and in 1814, (the editor or the age having become more polite,) The Ladies and Gentle- mens Diary. Of course it is possible in such cases to follow the first title, and make references from all the others, and this is probably the best way; but our cataloguer, disgusted with the ill success of his first experiment, is likely to fly to the opposite extreme, and enter everything under the name of the editor. This promises well at first, but has its difficulties too. To say nothing of the fact that at least half the almanacs are strictly anonymous, which at once destroys all hope of uni- formity, and setting aside the difficulty of deciding between the rival claims of the publisher, the man who makes the astro- nomical calculations, and the man who collects the jokes, in such cases as Johnsons Almanac, calculated by Joshua Sharp, or Fishers [Davy] Crockett Almanac, edited by Ben ilardin (who sometimes calls himself Harding), it is not uncommon for some numbers of a series to appear with and some without an editors name. In one case an alternation of avowed and concealed paternity is carried on through four years. If the numbers of such a series come into the library at different times, they will certainly be differently catalogued, and separated on the shelves. And almanacs change their ed- itors as often as their titles,the Atlantic Almanac being a case in point. The British Museum puts all almanacs, calen- dars, and ephemerides under the general head, Ephemeri- des, an intrusion of the classed into the authors catalogue. On another question there is a difference of opinion and practice. The Acts, Memoirs, Transactions, Journals, and other publications of societies, academies, institutes, univer- sities, etc., are to be entered under the name of the society, academy, etc.; but where in the alphabet shall the names of the societies be put? The British Museum collects them all under 1869.] New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. 103 the head Academies, arranged alphabetically by countries, and subarranged according to the places where their headquar- ters are. This is open to the objection, that it is introducing, without any apparent reason, a portion of a classed into an alphabetical catalogue. Why not as well arrange the names of authors under the countries to which they belong, as was often done formerly? Professor Jewett accordingly discards this assemblage under Academies, and puts learned societies and public institutions under the names of the places where they are established, distributing these names throughout the alphabet. This is well enough for foreign academies, which are always known by the name of their city, as the Academy of Munich, the Royal Society of London, or the University of Giittingen; but in its application to this country it requires too much geographical knowledge on the part of the cataloguer. Who but graduates can be expected to remember that Union College is at Schenectady, Brown University at Providence, Bowdoin at Brunswick, Cornell at Ithaca, Dartmouth, not at Dart- mouth, Mass., but at Hanover, N. H.? And if this is true of illustrious colleges, what shall be said of the unknown societies which every cataloguer afflicted with pamphlets has to dispose of by dozens? It is not always easy to determine where they are established, or whether they are established anywhere; for some such bodies are of a roving disposition, and do not hold their meetings two successive years in the same place. Pro- fessor Jewetts practice, in the Catalogue of the Public Li- brary of the City of Boston, does not always conform to his rule. The American Antiquarian Society, for example, appears under Worcester, as it should; but the Massachusetts Historical Society, which has been in one place twenty years longer, is not under Boston, but under Massachusetts. The rule pro- posed by Mr. Edward Edwards * meets the difficulties of the case better. According to that, the name of the place is to determine the alphabetical order only when it forms a part of the official name of the society. This brings both the foreign academies and our colleges under the titles by which they are most generally known. But even this does not remove all * Report of the Commissioners on the British Museum, 1850, Nos. 5956 5961. 104 New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. [Jan. stumbling-blocks. Many societies seem not to be sure of their own name, and give it, to coin an example, as The Caloca- gathinian Society of Rome on the title-page, The Roman Calocagathinian Society in the preface, and simply The Cal- ocagathinian Society in the text. No rule can meet such cases. Safety is to be found only in numerous cross-refer- ences. And, finally, good authorities are not agreed whether unde- tected pseudonymous works are to be treated as anonymous, orthe psendonymes to be considered as real names: whether, for example, a political pamphlet by Publicola or a novel by Ouid~ shall be put under that name or under the first word of the title. The anonymous method has the great disadvantage of separating works by the same author; and it must always have one exception, for probably no stickler for uniformity could be found so daring as to put The Letters of Junius under anything but Junius. It does not help us to a decision to consider what would be generally expected by the public. When the author of a book is unknown, it would be hard to say whether most people would remember best and would search under the pseudonyme or the title: probably the former, when it bore a close resemblance to a real name, as Mark Twain or Jack Downing or Arthur Pendennis, and the latter, when the psen- donyme was what Qu6rard calls a g~onyme, as A Citizen of the World, or a phraseonyrne, as A Clergyman of the Church of England, or an initialisme, as X. Y. Z. On the whole, it seems best, when we cannot have the authors name, to take what approaches nearest to it, his initials or his as- sumed name. Whatever may be our theory of cataloguing, numberless un- foreseen perplexities will occur in practice. The ninety-one rules published by the British Museum in 1841, and so foolish- ly ridiculed for their number, have probably been increased to twice as many by the subsequent experience of that vast es- tablishment. And even were there never any doubt under which rule a given book comes, yet there would remain the difficulties lamented by ilearne, of distinguishing synony- mous authors and works, and identifying metonymous ones, unravelling anagrammatical names and those derived from 1869.] New Catalogue of Harvard Colleo~e Libr b ary. 105 places. Merely the arrangement of titles, simple as it would seem beforehand, presents great difficulties in a large catalogue, and no plan yet proposed is perfectly satisfactory. Still, with the exceptions which we have mentioned, there is a substantial unanimity at least in respect to the theory, the principles upon which a catalogue of authors should be con- structed. With regard to the catalogue of subjects, this is far from being the case. At the very outset we are met by a denial that any satisfactory system of classification can be devised, or that any classed catalogue can be good enough to justify the very great expense which it involves. It is not necessary to discuss this point. The need of a catalogue of subjects does not admit of a moments doubt. It is invaluable to those who have forgotten an authors name, or are not famil- iar with the literature of the topic they are interested in, and this includes the majority of readers. And as to prac- ticability, the experience of Harvard College Library and of the Boston Public Library is sufficient proof of the possibility of making, as well as the expediency of having, such a catalogue.* But how it should be made is a question that admits of con- siderable discussion. At the time when the one now to be described was commenced, there were three systems in use, which may be called classification with minute ~ classification without subdivisions, and the dictionary sys- tem. In the first of which, as was to be expected, the Ger- mans possessed the best examples an attempt was made to bring all books under a strictly philosophical system of classes, with endless divisions and subdivisions, all arranged according to their scientific relations. To a person who wishes to get a synoptic view of human knowledge this may be of great assist- ance, but the inquirer after a particular subject finds that he must become acquainted with a complicated scheme before he can put the catalogue to any use. The second system, clas- sification without subdivisions, avoiding this evil, falls into a worse. In the extant examples the system is easy to learn, * Tbe British Museum is guilty of the great inconsistency of minutely classifying its books, wbich can be put only in one place, however many subjects tbcy may treat, and refusing to classify the titles, which, since it is easy to make any number of copies, caa be put under as many different headings as is desired.~ 106 New Catalogue of Harvard college Library. [Jan. because the classes are few in number, but, for the same reason, they are so comprehensive that it is very difficult to find any- thing under them. For it is plain, that, if a hundred thousand titles are divided into only sixty or seventy classes, some of the larger divisions will contain several thousand, all of which the impatient reader must look through to find what he wants. Consulting an authors catalogue with a dozen supplements is nothing to this. These serious disadvantages have led some bibliographers to the adoption of the third, or dictionary system, in which the attempt to subordinate classes is abandoned, and the subjects, special or general, are arranged like the words in a dictionary. Each book is put under as specific a subject as possible. Thus, if it treats of natural history, it is put under that heading; if it treats of zoiilogy alone, that word is the rubric; if it is confined to mammals, it will be found under Mammals; and, finally, if one is looking for a treatise on the elephant, he need not know whether that animal is a mammal, he need not even be sure that it is an animal, he has merely to know his alphabet well enough to find the word Elephant, under which will appear all the separate works that the library contains on that subject. This is the system which was pro- posed by Mr. Panizzi for the British Museum, and has actually been adopted in the index volume of the British Catalogue pub- lished in 1858, and in the catalogues of the Boston Public and the Manchester Free Libraries. It is certainly on a level with the meanest capacity, bnt it may be doubted whether it has not, in the endeavor to make it easy of comprehension, been deprived of advantages which were worth some sacrifice of simplicity. An inquirer will find under the word Elephant all the separate works on that animal which the library con- tains; but he does not find there any mention of the description of the elephant in general works, such as Buffons Ilistoire Naturelle, or Cuviers R~gne Animal. It is true, a refer- ence may remind him of their existence, and send him to the other end of the alphabet, to Z& 5logy, to find them. But mono- graphs on the elephant are not numerous. It may be that the library does not contain any, and then he will find under that word nothing, not even a reference. So far as he is concerned, the catalogue can no longer claim to be constructed on the die- 1869.] New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. 107 tionary system; he must look for his specific elephant under the class Quadrupeds, or Mammals, or Zo6logy, or Natural His- tory, just as if it were made on the first or second system.* As none of these three plans was wholly satisfactory, it wa~ decided to adopt a fourth, which may be termed the alpha- betico-classed or the mixed system. It was hoped that this would combine the excellences of all the others, and avoid their defects. It would, in great measure, bring into connec- tion, like the first two, those subjects which naturally belong together, and yet be less complicated than the first, and more convenient to consult than the second; it would not be much harder to understand than the third, and yet would not so widely separate related subjects which illustrate one another; moreover, it was to include certain important classes of sub- jects which all the published examples of the dictionary system had entirely omitted. It cannot be better described than in the words of its author. In this plan, the arrangement of classes or subjects is alphabetical, not scientific; but it differs from the scheme just remarked upon in this, that a lqrge part of these classes or subjects have numerous sub- divisions, which, instead of being dispersed through the great alpha- betical series, and thus widely separated from each other, are arranged * The best example of the dictionary scheme, the excellent Index of the Boston Public Library, never makes references from the specific to the general, that is, from topics like Horse to classes like Mammals or Zolilogy. It refers the other way, from Zoillogy to all the subdivisions of that subject on which the library con- tains books. This is not useless, for it enables one who wishes to know all about zo6iogy to find with considerable turning over of pages, to be sure all the works which treat of that somewhat extensive subject. But usually men wish to know all abont less ~eneral topics, and references from the species to the class would be more useful. At present, a person who is consulting the Index under the species finds nothing to remind him that this species is comprehended under certain classes, no reference to inform him what those classes are. Although such refer- ences are foreign to the genius of the dictionary system, they could of course be made. But it would swell the catalogue enormously to enumerate under each subject all the ttiore general classes which include it, referring, for instance, from Horse to Quadriipeds, Mammals, Zodlogy, Natural History, and repeating this reference under the name of every other animal mentioned in the catalogue. And, after all, there is no way of meeting the difficulty suggested in the text; for it would be out of the question to refer in this way from the name of every subject on which information could be found in general works belonging to the library, that is, from nearly every noun in the English language, whether there was any entry under it or not. 108 New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. [Jan. in a secondary alphabetical series under the general head.* . The two upper lines of the cards are reserved for a notation of the class and the subdivision (if any) under which the title is placed The title is thus a permanent thing, and requires no change, whatever change may seem expedient in the designation of the class or sub- ject. . The mode of indicating subdivisions may be illustrated by taking the class THEOLOGY Dogmatic. All the cards belonging to this large class have on the first line, in the left-hand corner, the ab- breviation Theol. Dogm. This of course brings them all together, when they are arranged in the drawers. If the titles are those of general or comprehensive works, the second line of the card is left blank. If they relate to any particular doctrine or subject which comes under this head, the name of the subject or its abbreviation is written on the second line of the card Whatever is written on this second line is for convenience termed a section, the word on the first line, in the left-hand corner, being the name of the class, which may or may not have a branch on the same line, separated from it by a dash.t Thus, under the class THEOLOGY, branch Dogmatic, we have the sections Death, Future Life, Heaven, Resurrection, Sin, Trinity, etc. These sections are arranged in alphabetical order under this class and branch. Under each section, the titles belonging to it may stand in the alphabetical order of their authors names, or they may be arranged chronologically, the date being placed on the second line, in the middle, so as to strike the eye at once. The cards for the general works, which have nothing on the second line at the place for the name of the section, of course immediately precede this series of special treatises. Now let us compare the practical working of this arrangement with that which embraces but a single alphabetical series of headings. Taking the supposition most unfavorable to the system, we will assume * To prevent misapprehension, it may he well to state distinctly that this idea of an alphabetical arrangement of the subdivisions under the primary classes in a catalogue or index of subjects is nothing new. Its application, however, to a card catalogue designed for general use, and the mechanical devices by which such a catalogue is made easy of consultation, are believed to he original. t It is sometimes convenient to add a secondary branch to the primary one. Thus, works relating to the history of Christian doctrines may have on the first line of the cards the heading THEOL. Doqm. Hist., which of course brings them all together as a supplement to the division THEOLOGY Dogmatic. The sections may also have branches like the classes; and further subdivisions, in cases that re- quire it. may easily be made, without violating the principle that the secondary ar- rangement shall form either an alphabetical or a chronological series under the primary. 1869.] New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. 109 that the inquirer knows nothing at all of the plan of the catalogue, but only sees, as the labels oa the outside of the drawers show him at once, that the general arrangement is alphabetical. He looks in the primary alphabetical series of subjects for the heading FUTURE LIFE, or some synonymous expression. He finds under this a reference to THEOLOGY Dogmatic, Future Life, to which he can turn in- stantly, as Theol. Dogm. stands in its alphabetical place in the drawers, with the sections under it arranged alphabetically. He per- ceives at once that this is the principle of arrangement; for, as he opens the drawer which has on the outside th~ label THEOLOGY Dogmatic, he finds the cards separated by numerous thin blocks or projecting cards, bearing labels for the principal subdivisions of this class in alphabetical order. The whole scheme is mapped out before him; he sees at a glance that there are many other subdivisions in this drawer that are important to his purpose; and the first card that he finds under the section Future Life contains a cross-reference to this effect: See also Death, Heaven, Immortality, Intermediate State, Judgment (Day of), Punishment (Future), Purgatory, Resurrection, etc. But these references do not send him, as they do in the other system, all over the catalogue, from one drawer to another, or from one manuscript volume to another, to ascertain what there is in the library on these branches of his subject; the titles are all before him, and he may examine them all without having to move a single step. The fact, that, not knowing the plan of the catalogue, he looked first under FUTURE LIFE, and found only a reference to ThEOLOGY Dogmatic, is no deduction from the comparative advantages of this system. Ac- cording to the other scheme, he is obliged to look under THEOLOGY Dogmatic, or some equivalent heading, as well as under FUTURE LIFE; for general works on dogmatic theology include, of course, the discus- sion of the Christian doctrine of the future life, and among those gen- eral works he may find what is more important to his purpose than nay special treatise on the subject in the library. The portion, for example, of Gerhards Loci Tlieologici (in Cottas edition) which re- lates to this topic alone occupies four quarto volumes. The foregoing illustration does not relate to some exceptional case, but is only one specimen out of hundreds equally or more striking. It may serve to show, in the first place, that it is not so very easy a mat- ter to find all there is in a large library on a particular subject by the aid of any catalogue; and, in the second place, that the simple dic- tionary system, by tearing violently asunder and scattering through the whole alphabet those subjects which Nature has joined together, will often greatly increase, instead of diminishing, the labor of the in- quirer 110 New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. [Jan. Some of the classes in the new catalogue have no subdivisions under them. So far, it agrees with what I have termed the diction- ary system. But I cannot doubt that the cases are very numerous in which subdivisions are of great advantage. Suppose, for example; that a student wishes to ascertain if there is a work ia the library on the plants of Boston and its neighborhood, or on the zodlogy of Massa- chusetts, or the geology of Maine. According to the system followed in the new catalogue, he is not obliged to search for this among a huge mass of miscellaneous titles relating to Boston, Massachusetts, or Maine, on the one hand, or to botany, zodlogy, or geology, on the other. Under the heading BOTANY Geographical (or Local, if this term be preferred), which strikes the eye as soon as he opens the drawer, lie finds brou ht together, first, all the general works on the geographical distribution of plants, and then the special fioras of par- ticular regions arranged in the alphabetical order of their names, which form the sections under this division. * It is true, there is no reason why the dictionary system should not also, for convenience, admit subdivisions, when the number of entries under one topic is unwieldy. Thus, the histories of a country may be arranged according to the period of which they treat; under many topics dictionaries and periodicals may be culled from the mass of other titles and brought into serviceable juxtaposition. Some catalogues of this kind go still farther, becoming to a certain extent classed. Thus, under Germany we may find the rubrics Antiquities, Art, Biography, Geography, History, Law, Natural History, etc. The appearance of classification here could have been avoided by using the terms German Antiquities, German Art, etc. But this device does not work so well, when the name of the country and the corresponding adjective come in different parts of the alphabet, separating, for instance, Great Britain and British, or United States and American, to say nothing of Denmark and Danish, France and French, Spain and Spanish. This leads us to notice that in some respects the dictionary system may approach the classed very nearly without deserting its fundamental principle of putting everything under the most specific subject. Synonymous terms are ordinarily the greatest * Mr. Abbots Statement respecting the New Catalogues, in the Report of the Examining Committee for 1S63. 1869.] New catalogue of Harvard College Library. 111 annoyances of the cataloguer, and, whichever he may choose, some of his readers will be sure to think the other most natural and most convenient. But in the present case they may afford a little welcome liberty. Italian Antiquities, Ital- ian Art, Italian History, Italian Politics, are not more specific terms than Art in Germany, Art in Italy, Art in Spain, Art in the United States. The adoption of the first set of terms would bring together all that relates to a country, of the lat- ter, all that relates to a subject. Which it is best to adopt will of course depend upon the answer to the question, which of the two kinds of topics it will be most convenient for the inquirer to find in connection, under which kind there is the most mutual illustration, which kind have been most usually treated together in general works. We think it would be found that there is, on the whole, very little difference, in point of convenience, between the two methods. The dictionary sys- tem is at liberty to adopt either mode of grouping its head- ings. It has hitherto adopted the national. And so elastic is the plan of Mr. Abbots catalogue, that there is nothing to pre- vent its doing the same, if there is any manifest advantage to be gained thereby. His scheme is a mixture of the two others, the strictly classed and the dictionary, and the proportions in which the two shall be mixed can be varied as the jndgment of the cataloguer directs. For instance, at present, all books that treat of authors, as such, are entered under Bibliography, which is divided by countries, the works on individual authors in each division being arranged in the alphabetical order of their names. This affords the means of seeing at one view all that the library contains on the literary history of each country; and yet it is easy to find whatever relates especially to any author, provided his nationality be known, a matter about which there can seldom be any un- certainty. But if it should be thought best to bring the titles of works illustrating an author into connection with the titles of his own works, so that one would have in the catalogue of authors under Shakespeare, for example, references, first, to all the works written by him, and then to all the works written about him, there is nothing in the plan of the present catalogue which would prevent it. All things considered, the method 112 New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. [Jan. which has been adopted appears preferable; but it was adopted because it was thought to be preferable, and not from any exi- gency pf an unyielding system. But it must not be thought, because the two plans can ap- proach one another in this case, that the difference between them is merely nominal. The dictionary scheme is still bound by its principles to tear apart all the subdivisions of those sub- jects which are not national. The monographs on oxygen must still appear by themselves in the letter 0, widely sep- arated from all the discussions of oxygen in general treatises on chemistry, and in chemical dictionaries and periodicals. You are looking at Witchcraft, and find that its cousin, Demon- ology, is at the other end of the volume, or in another ponder- ous volume of a manuscript catalogue, or two yards off in a drawer which some one else is using. And you may have to look in a third place for Magic, and in a fourth for Sorcery. If you wish to know what music the library contains, or to select some for your own performance, you will find it in twenty different parts of the catalogue, according as it happens to be written in the form of Concerto, Dance, Military Music, Overture, Sonata, Symphony, or Waltz, to say nothing of the more numerous kinds of vocal music.* Of course the mixed system does not altogether avoid the reproach of tearing asunder related subjects. No system can. Every branch of human knowledge is allied to several others. It is impossible to bring it next to all. The position which clearly shows one of its relations utterly conceals another, and * And if you wish to enjoy a fine poem, or divert yourself with a work of fic- tion, you would not find in any of the dictionary catalogues a list of individual poems, plays, or novels, from which to make your selection. Such a list is not incompatible with that system, bnt it seems to he felt to be in some way foreign to its character. The Boston Public Librarys Finding List of Fiction and Juve- nile Books, first published two years ago as a temporary expedient, has been found a very useful supplement to its catalogue. I mention the matter here chiefly to remark upon the thoroughness of the New Catalogue, which is prevented from omitting such classes as Drama, Fiction, Poetry, by the practice of entering every book under at least one class, and is obliged to have those classes complete by the habit of entering every book, in full or by brief reference, under all the classes to which it belongs; so that the Colombiade of Du Boccage cannot escape from Poetry to bide in Biography, nuder pretence of being a life of Columbus, nor will Dantes Inferno fail to be found at all, as in many catalogues, or appear only under Hell. 1869.] New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. 113 we must be content with trying to group together those sub- jects which have the strongest affinities, and making the sepa- rations where they can be made with the least violence. Thus, Law contains the laws as they are, and treatises on their meaning; the class Politics and Government contains discus- sions on what the laws should be ; Legislation, the same dis- cussions when carried on in. legislative bodies, together with all accounts of the proceedings of such bodies, and all the documents submitted to them as grounds for their decision. So, a thorough inquiry into the capacity of the negro would send one to the widely separated classes, Bibliography, for an account of what the negroes have written, Biography (Col- lective), for the lives of famous negroes, Ethnology, Freed- men and Free Negroes, History ~ Negroes, Slavery, and Slave- Trade. Of course proper references remind one to look in all these places. Again, although the Bible is the very foundation of Chris- tian doctrine and practice, and in the French classed cata- logues which follow Brunet always stands at the beginning of Th6ologie, it will be found more convenient to have an in- dependent class, Bible,* and to bring the illustrative works near it by such headings as Biblical Antiquities, Biblical Chronology, Biblical Commentary, Biblical Criticism, Geog- rapby, Hermeneutics, History, etc. A similar grouping col- lects much that concerns the Christian Church under the headings, Ecclesiastical Antiquities, Ecclesiastical Biograpby, History, Law, Polity, Statistics, Trials. Under Theology are left the systems of doctrine, ritual, and practice which have been drawn from the Bible, which, after all, often have small connection with their source. In Brunet, sermons also appear under Th~ologie. In tbe New Catalogue they are made a sep- arate class, partly because they have a certain likeness to ora- tions, (and it is usually best that a class which has connections with two other classes should not be subordinated to either of them,) and partly for the sake of having the subdivisions, Christmas, Dedication, Doctrinal, Expository, Fast, Funeral, historical, Political, and others. * here, and not in the authors catalogue, are enumerated all the editions of the Bih~e. VOL. cvni. No. 222. 8 114 New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. [Jan. One other difference between the two systems should be noticed. The Index of the Boston Public Library follows essentially Mr. Panizzis plan, which was, to make the titles in the catalogue of authors very full, and the index of subjects merely a huge collection of brief references to the subjects indicated in those titles, giving no information whatever as to the edition or character of the books, and driving the in- quirer to a continual and wearisome recurrence to the authors catalogue, if he would make a satisfactory selection. The ne- cessary loss of time is not the only evil incident to this plan. It is impossible to compare titles so widely separated. While one is looking for and at a tenth, he forgets the first five or six. And the loss of time, which can be borne when one is using a single printed volume, would be utterly unendurable with the complete catalogue of a large library, especially if in manuscript. Suppose that the British Museum had made an index on this plan, and imagine a man, not a professed botanist, trying to cull from it one of the two or three hundred general works on botany. Of course he coul,d take the first he found, trusting to chance to give him what he wanted, and, if chance proved unkind, sending for another and another, till he was satisfied. It is hardly necessary to point out that a catalogue which makes such a course necessary, however cheap its com- pilation may have been, cannot be considered very economical either for the library or the public. But if one will not do this, he must open perhaps fifty folio volumes of the catalogue (for some of which he will probably have to wait, because other per- sons are using them), find the titles to which he is referred, and remember them as he turns from one to another. If this scheme had been tried for a time at the British Museum, Mr. Panizzi would have been as zealous an opponent of meagre sub- ject titles as he was of brief titles under the names of authors.* * The index of the Astor Library catalogue gives undcr each subject only a bare list of the names of those who have written upon it. There is not the slightest in- dication when the different books were written, how large they are, or how the subject is treated. We are greatly indebted to Mr. Cogswell for what he has done; the catalogue of the Astor Library would be of comparatively little service in other libraries without this index: yet it is a pity that the time and patience which readers will lose while consulting it could not have been used to make it more satisfactory to them. 1869.] New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. 115 In the New Catalogue, on the contrary, the subject entry is the fullest, sometimes the whole title being copied, sometimes different parts under different classes, but in every case so much as is necessary to describe the way in which the book handles the particular subject under which one is looking. The form of the book, folio, octavo, or other, the number of volumes, and the number of pages, when less than a hundred, are given, because the extent of a work will often determine ones choice; and the imprint is added because the date when a ~~ork was written often makes a great difference in its scien- tific value. This fulness is one of the most important features of the New Catalogue, and the great amount of work which this saving of time to those who use it causes to those who make it is one of the reasons why it cannot be made quickly. In the authors catalogue, on the other hand, nothing more is necessary than to separate very carefully the different authors by giving their names in full, and, in the case of the more common names, adding the dates of birth and death, to copy enough of the title to identify the book, and, when there are more editions than one, to note, as briefly as possible, their differences. I have dwelt at some length on the distinctions between the dictionary and the mixed system, and on their comparative advantages, because the former is much more commonly used, and because it has been persistently asserted, that, ethough less scientific, it is by far the most convenient. It seems to be imagined, that, with a catalogue thus constructed, a person must know at once just where to look for whatever he wants. But a few experiments, or a little reflection, will dis- pel this pleasing illusion. The inquirer must often be uncertain under what word in the catalogue he should look for his subject, because it is often difficult for the cataloguer to determine how a particular sub- ject should be designated. First, there is the case of synony- mous or equivalent terms. He has to choose, for instance, between Antiquities and Arcb~eology; between Birds and Ornithology; between Shells and Conchology, or Mollusca and Malacology; between Temperance and Intemperance; between Masonry and Freemasonry, to say ~iothing of Anti-masonry; 116 New catalogue of Harvard College Library. [Jan. between Protection, Tariff, and Free Trade. Or if, as has gen- erally been the case in catalogues constructed on this system, he is governed merely by the accidental phraseology of the title, he separates works of precisely the same class, placing some under one heading, and others under one or more syn- onymous headings in another part of the alphabet, greatly to the inconvenience of the inquirer. Again, many subjects are usually expressed by two or more words, as Capital Punish- ment, Future Punishment, College Education, Moral Philos- ophy, Agricultural Chemistry, English Grammar, English Proverbs, Scottish Ballads, Art of War, International Law, Commercial Law, Comparative Anatomy, Natural Theology, not to mention the equivalent terms often used for many of these, as, Death Penalty, Academic or University Education, Ethics, Military Art, Law of Nations, Mercantile Law, Natural Religion. How is a person to know beforehand nuder which of these words he will find the subject entered in the catalogue? * The truth is, that each plan has some merits which the other does not possess. A person who has always been accustomed to one will find much in the other to surprise and for a while puzzle or offend him; but any one who should be for some time in the constant habit of consulting a catalogue of each kind on all sorts of subjects would hardly doubt which deserved the palm of superiority. There can be no question that the mixed system is most convenient for those who understand it and have learnt where to look for what they want. It is therefore well adapted to the library of a college or of a learned society. A large pro- portion of those who frequent such libraries are engaged in some limited field of investigation, and can quickly become accustomed to the method adopted in the classes to which they have most occasion to refer. The professor of chemistry soon discovers that he has seldom to look at any but three drawers, those which contain Chemistry, Mineralogy, and * Mr. Abbots Statement, p. 48. Experience shows, that, with all the simplicity of a dictionary catalo~ue, the public have to be taught how to USC it; which ne- cessity is ocasiened l)artlY by synonymes, partly by the national grouping, partly by the lack of references from specific to general terms, and partly by the com- mon want of familiarity with catalogues of any kind. 1869.] New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. 117 Toxicology. The professor of botany seldom need go beyond those which contain Botany, Agriculture, and Horticulture. The professor of history would make most use of the classes History, Geography, Ecclesiastical History, Biography, Antiq- uities; though, of course, his researches would occasionally carry him into such classes as Bibliography, Commerce, Fi- nance, Heraldry, Politics, Statistics, and many others. The Latin professor knows that he shall find all that relates to the tongue which he teaches under Language Latin; the his- tory of the literature written in that language, under Bibliog- raphy Latin; the literature itself, and whatever illustrates single writers, under Latin Authors; that part of the literature which is engraved on stone, under Inscriptions Latin; the manners and customs of Rome, under Antiquities Roman; the description of her territory, under Geography, ~ Rome; the account of her deeds, under History, ~ Rome ; her juris- prudence, under Law Roman; her mythology, under Relig- ions (Various) Roman. Certainly this is not a very hard lesson to learn, and when it is once fixed in the memory, the consultation of the catalogue for these subjects, which are nearly all th~it he need consult in the ordinary course of his studies, is merely mechanical. And when the lesson is really understood, it becomes a key to the use of many other parts of the catalogue. As he found what relates to Rome, he can find what relates to Greece. Having been accustomed to the class Inscriptions, he is not surprised at classes like Ballads, Fables, Legends, Letters, Quotations. The class Law would lead him to expect the classes Commerce, Finance, Political Economy, Politics, Statistics. It is to be expected that people will occasionally be star- tled at particular classifications, and think that they meet fa- miliar subjects in strange places. Hardly any one would at first look for treatises on the observance of Sunday, or on infant baptism, under Theology Ritual, Baptism, and Sunday. A little reflection will show that such a class is at least not unreasonable, and that it has the advantage of bring- ing these books, and works on confirmation, the Lords Supper, and other rites of the Christian Church, into close connection with general works on ritualism, instead of mixing them with 118 New Catalogue of harvard College Library. [Jan. the numerous treatises on practical theology, or, worse still, dispeising them through the whole alphabet. And when such a classification is once understood, its use becomes very easy, and, if it is well devised, an orderly mind derives a sensible pleasure from its appropriateness. In fact, it is to be hoped that the catalogue will be a not insignificant addition to the educational apparatus of the university, leading the students, in spite of the perverse willingness of men to let any good es- cape them which cannot be obtained without some exertion, unconsciously to make classifications themselves, and assisting them in forming the very useful habit of laying up questions and facts in the mind, suitably labelled, and in their proper places. Synonymous terms cause trouble both to the maker and the user of this, as of every catalogue. Yet they sometimes afford an opportunity for an ingenious grouping of classes, by which their mutual relation can be exhibited. You wonder why you do not find Grecian and Roman and Hindu mythology under Mythology, and why the drawer which contains Theology, that is, Christian Theology, does not also contain Theology (Natu- ral). The reason is, that natural religion illustrates mythol- ogy more than it does Christian theology, and the use of the terms Religion (Natural) and Religions (Various) brings to- gether the classes which are most closely connected.* As it was desirable that the treatment of the different classes should be uniform, certain distinguishing features run through the whole catalogue. Such classes as Chemistry, En- graving, Philosophy, Science, Z& ilogy, have, and almost all the classes can have, a division Biography, where, besides the lives of persons eminent in those branches of learning or art, will be found criticisms on their works. A rhapsody on Beethovens Ninth Symphony, an onslaught on Wagners Lo- hengrin, praise of Churchs Niagara, or censure of Storys Everett, an explanation of the ilegelian philosophy, an account of the life of Stephenson or the death of Wolfe, would all be * Those who place the Christian religion on a level with all others might object to this arrangement. Even such critics should remeinher, however, that the juxta- position of classes is to be determined here, not hy the philosophical relations of subjects, hut by the manner of their treatment in hooks. In the present case, to be sure, it would have heen possihle to connect all these related classes hy using the terms Theology (Christian), Theology (Gentile), and Theology (Natural). 1869.] New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. 119 found under this critico-biographical branch of the respective classes, Music, Painting, Sculpture, Philosophy, Engineering, Military Art. A similar division, Geographical, under such classes as Agriculture, Geology, Medicine, Natural History, Superstitions, and many others, receives works treating of those subjects with special reference to a particular country. Almost every class has a division History, where are put accounts of the origin, progress, and present state of the art or science, the subdivisions being the names of countries. This division, History, of course bears the same relation to the divis- ion Biography that the class History has to Biography. It is a question yet undecided, whether it is not best to treat all bibliography not national in the same way, instead of collect- ing i~ under Bibliography, and there making the names of the arts and sciences the divisions. But it is not possible to treat everything in exactly the same manner; nor will the English language always permit us to give analogous classes similar names. Thus, observations on the text of single Greek or Latin writers are given as appen- dixes to the lists of those writers works in the classes Greek Authors and Latin Authors; but those which illustrate several writers, or relate to Oriental authors, naturally appear under Classical Philology or Oriental Philology; observations on the text of the Bible, under Biblical Criticism, on the text of a modern European or American author, under Bibliography. It has been objected to Mr. Abbots plan, that not only will readers find such a catalogue hard to consult, but other libra- rians will find it hard to make. But any good index of subjects is difficult of construction. IRhetoricians say that easy writing is hard reading. In the same way a catalogue which is compiled without much trouble will be likely to cause considerable delay and disappointment to those who use it. No satisfactory result can be obtained without the expenditure of time and thought. Shall it be the time of the librarian, or the time of the read- ers? Certainly not of the latter; for their labor, spent in solv- ing the question of the moment, will in each case benefit only themselves, while the labor of the librarian, being put into a form permanently accessible, may help numberless persons inquiring into the same matter. But let no cataloguer who 120 New catalogue of Harvard Uolleg~ Library. [Jan. undertakes the task, wishing to give as much assistance as pos- sible, delude himself with the idea that his work will be easy or rapid. In preparing the list of authors, he may get much assistance from the printed catalogues of other libraries, but in the classed part very little use can be made of the labors of other bibliographers, because no one has ever worked on the same plan. He must decide each question for himself, with no help from experience. If he would have his catalogue per- fect, he must examine each book sufficiently to discover its contents, to determine just what it treats of, how many sub- jects it treats of, and sometimes exactly how it treats of them. In history, he must ascertain what is the period described, that the title may be inserted in its proper place in the chronolog- ical arrangement. And this he will often find no easy matter. Not a few histories and biographies so inconsiderate are au- thors are published without any list of contents, index, or chronological table, and almost without dates. In geography and travels the same work is to be done; for here, too, the sub- arrangement should be chronological. Marco Polo and V~im- b6ry, the Grand Duke Cosmo and Esquiros, Mrs. Trollope and Anthony Trollope, saw very different states of society, and bronght back very different acconuts of Asia, England, the United States. It would never do to mix them indiscrimi- nately. But to ascertain the exact period covered by each journey is often difficult and tedious. Some travellers give no dates at all; some, even more provokingly, date the first day of their voyage, and continue the narration with a week after, the next month, several days later, which at last pro- duces an indefiniteness of time that would put Carlyle in a rage. And it is not always possible to tell by a glance at the title through what countries the traveller passed. Mach delay is also caused by what is termed analysis, that is, bringing out under their proper heads the works con- tained in collections like Forces Tracts, Gales Scrip- tores Britannic~ et Anghican~ xx., and the very valuable papers in the Memoirs, Transactions, and Journals of learned societies, and at least the more important of the article~s in periodicals. The time consumed in such work is considerable. In properly analyzing a single volume it may be necessary to 1869.] New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. 121 make as much research for the classification, and to write as many cards, as would suffice for a whole shelf-full of books which require no analysis. But the work pays. The amount of buried matter that it reveals is astouishing. The greater part of bibliographical essays are to be found only in peri- odicals. The controversy ou the Gospel of John, which ex- cited an interest in Germany that tweuty years have hardly diminished, began in Zellers Theologische fakrbVclier. The articles in the & udien mind Kritileen are almost volumes in themselves. For nine tenths of the monographs by which science is advanced one must consult periodicals and the pub- lications of societies. In historical studies and the fine arts, although the proportion of independent publications is greater, one must go frequently to the same source. But indispensable as such material is to any thorough research, the siudent or- dinarily loses a large part of it, because it is not indexed. What he finds probably costs him a long hunt, and much he does not find at all. Every man of science has experienced this evil, which within a few years has led the Royal Society of London to prepare for its own use an elaborate Catalogue of Scientific Papers from 1800 to 1863. So important is the work considered, that the British government has ordered it to be printed at the public expense ; and so extensive is it, that the first volume of authors, consisting of 960 quarto pages, con- tains only the letters A Cm, about one sixth of the whole. The promised Alphabetical Index * of the Subjects of the Papers as far as they appear in the Titles will relieve libraries from the necessity of analyzing scientific periodicals published before 1864, just as Mr. Pooles Index to Periodical Litera- turn makes it unnecessary to analyze English periodicals published before 1852. But the necessity will still remain of doin something similar, or better, in those branches of knowl- edge which have not the advantage of such indexes. t * An index on the dictionary system is much hctter adapted to these scientific papers, which are almost entirely monographs, than it would he to a lihrarv con- taming many general works. I The impatience of the puhlic, and the fear of heing too voluminous, prevented Mr. Jcwctt from inserting in the Index to the Catalogue of the Boston Public Library much that he would undonhtedly have heen glad to include. That Index, though very complete for authors, however little they may have written, gives no 122 New catalogue of Harvard College Library. [Jan. Analysis should not be confined to periodicals and serials. Many books contain important chapters on special topics of which not a hint is to be found in the title. Important biograph- ical sketches, occasionally a sermon worthy of special refer- ence, accounts of the natural history and of the language of various countries occurring in books of travel, essays like Macanlays on t~he Catholic Church, or on a dozen other sub- jects, whole treatises which the library may possess only in the authors collected Works, all these would be overlooked on Mr. Panizzis plan. If you have full and accurate titles, he says, well drawn up for an alphabetical catalogue, you take all the words which indicate any of the subjects treated of in that work, and you enter them alphabetically Under Dodo I find whatever is written about the Dodo. The Lord Advocate. So far as appears in the title-page? Yes; and there can be nothing better, if the titles are well done If it is not mentioned in the title-page, the case is much worse in a classed catalogue; you must read every book, to class their contents. That the cataloguer should read every book through is of course impossible. Fortunately it is not neces- sary. He may discover much by simply turning over the leaves. How far analysis shall be carried must be left to his discretion; and his decision will be determined by his knowl- edge, his tastes, and the amount of time at his command. Uniformity in such a matter, though desirable, is not essential; since the usefulness of one such reference is not in the least affected by anothers having been made or not made. There are many books which do not require analysis; but the habit of examining each, to see whether any is needed, is a use- ful check on the tendency to classify by the title alone. One who is hurried into this dangerous practice can never know where a moments inattention or ignorance about some detail of a subject may lead him. He should at least be very sure that he understands his title. Perhaps no one would imagine Boehmers Meditationes in Gonstitutionem (iriminale rn Caro- reference from subjects to anything less than a volume. Papers in the Ahflnoires of the French Academy, hundreds of pages long, do not receive the attention that is hestowed on mere trifles which were puhlished separately. Even Mr. Lowell~s carefnl catalogue at the Boston Athentenin does not hring ont any articles in periodicals. 1869.] New Catalogue of Harvard Colleo~e Libra b ry. 123 linam to be a discussion of the slave laws of South Carolina, or I Clef/i della Gre cia JiToderna, a description of the present state of the Acroceraunian cliffs: but men have actually put Oraliones Sancti Chrysostomi in the same class as C~iceronis Orationes, and Buda3us de Asse et Partibus ejus under Zo~5logy, as a work on Asses. Why should not If, Yes, and Perhaps be a treatise on particles, an English Tursellinus? Some titles appear to be written to conceal contents. Even when they give information, it is not always correct; and when it is cor- rect, it is seldom complete. Difficulties of another kind admit of a more summary treatment. No librarian has any security that he may not be. called upon at any time to catalogue, and, what is worse, to classify, a book written in a language of which he knows not a word, Polish or iRussian, Persian or Japanese, some Hawaiian tract left by a missionary, a Chinese treatise given by an attach~ of an embassy in exchange for the reports of the library, a Bulgarian guide-book brought home by an ad- venturous traveller, perhaps a batch of works in an uncommon language which some scholar overburdened with time has un- dertaken to learn and given up in despair after a short trial. If the cataloguer knows any one who can decipher the strange characters and interpret the unknown words, he will apply to him; otherwise, rather than waste much time in making blunders by the aid of the grammar and lexicon, he will choose the auctioneers brief style, A Mongolian book, with illus- trations. In the course of time a number of these titles ac- cumulate, a constant eyesore, offending the taste for uniformity and completeness, but after all not practically diminishing the value of the catalogue more than the presence of the books increases the practical value of the library. The first scholar who wishes to read them can be employed to properly describe them. The cataloguer should not expect to be satisfied with his work. Let him make what acquaintance he can with many languages, let him get a superficial knowledge of all branches of science, literature, and art, let him almost read the books he classifies, and be generally on his guard against the hundred sources of mistake, yet shall he err like other hurried or inter- 124 New Uatalogue of Harvard College Library. [Jan. rupted or fagged and drowsy mortals. He will hardly speak of Ander Schiffahrts Second Voyage, or suppose, with the compiler of a certain Library Manul, that Ebend. is a great book-publishiug city; but he may write psychology when he meaut ~to write physiolc~y; in a temporary distraction of thought he may even confouud things as different as crustacca and mollusca, he may find himself inextricably involved among the higher branches of mathematics or the nice distinctions of metaphysics, and commit errors of judgment even when he avoids slips of the pen. It may give some idea of the questions which present them- selves to one who is commencing such a catalogue, if we con- sider how certain books may be treated. The first to be dealt with shall be A Description of National Sports, Dances, and Songs. The title at once suggests three classes. The first, Sports, offers no difficulties. A little consideration, or a slight consultation of other catalogues, shows that there are general works on sports, by Walker and others, and also manuals of particular sports, which will call for such divisions as Base-Ball, Cricket, Hunting, Rowing. Billiards, chess, ~cart6, whist, will come under a similar class, Games. For the book in hand there must be a division National~; and if a work on the sports of Scotland, or of Ancient Greece, should ever come up for classification, it would be entered here, Greece or Scotland forming a section under the division National. Dances can be treated like Sports. Songs, however, require a little more thought. It would evidently be difficult to distinguish between ballads and songs; and which name to give to the united classes is a point to split hairs upon. One consideration is perhaps decisive. The old popular romances must of course be included, the metrical legends, which were originally, at least, written to be sung. But it would seem a little strained to call the Romaunt of the Rose~ or William and the Wer- wolf songs. The name Ballads, etc., standi~~g midway between the two extremes, may be taken to include both. And we can foresee that prose romances the other half of the popular literature of the Middle Ages will require a corre- sponding class, Legends, which will properly include fairy tales. In these two classes the subdivisions must plainly be names of 1869.] New Catalogue of harvard College Library. 125 countries, for folk lore often bears strongly marked national characteristics; and though the same legends reappear in dif- ferent lands, yet the style of telling and the embellishments vary. Moreover, these classes contain sometimes the only, and almost always the earliest, literature of the various races. Let the next book be Brillat-Savarins entertaining P/iysi- olo~eJe da Godt. Plainly we must have a class Cookery, where can be assembled all the cook-books, from the Liber Gure (Jocorum to cautious iDr. Glass and the 101st edition of Miss Acton. And Brillat-Savarin discusses not only the preparation of food, but its history and the characteristics of the different kinds, as is done more exhaustively, but less aQreeably, in Soyers Pantropheom Another class, Food, is needed, then, for these books, for Hassalls Adulterations of Food, and for works on the preservation of food. Even this is not enough. The i[ftditation n., Da Coi~t, though it may have little scientifle value, certainly deserves a reference under Physiology, which of course must be a division of Medicine. And it must not be overlooked that Diet, that is, the relation of food to health, another generally recognized division of Medicine, receives considerable attention from Brillat-Savarin. Thus we have given the Physiologic four distinct entries, none too many for a work which has won so high a reputation, and maintained it so long, among the wits and epicures of France. The examples chosen illustrate the necessity of the double and triple entry of many titles. As this forms a weighty item in the expense and bulk of the catalogue, it should of course be avoided wherever the assistance afforded to the reader is much less than the labor caused to the writer. That is to say, double entries should never be made under synonymous terms, a reference from the one rejected to the one selected for a heading being sufficient; and double entries should not be made when two classes partly overlap, as often happens, for then a reference under one will take the place of the titles, which can just as well be consulted under the other. In this latter case, however, two things are to be observed: first, that the reference is allowable only when it prevents the repe- tition of several titles, because it is nearly as easy to write a 126 New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. [Jan. title as a reference, and no one likes to be sent to another part of the alphabet to find almost nothing when he gets there; and, secondly, that a reference is insufficient when the titles referred to from the first class are mixed in the second with a large mass of others, and much time would be spent in picking them out. To illustrate: the comparative merits of free trade and protection are discussed in the general works on political economy, which must be put under that head; in spe- cial pamphlets and magazine articles, which would form, under the same class, the section Free Trade ; and in discussions of the varions tariffs, which belong under Politics or Legislation (as the case may be), branch United States, section Tariff. When these last treatises discuss the general principles of the subject as well as the particular provisions of each tariff, shall they be doubly entered under Political Economy and un- der Politics, or will a reference under the former, See also Politics U. S. (18), Tariff, be enough? The princi- ples stated above furnish a ready answer. One thing is yet wanting, without which the New Catalogue would fail to be all that is desirable. At present it furnishes no indication of the comparative merit of the works to which it refers, and generally no further description of their character than is given in their titles. In very many cases, and especially for those person,s who have some knowledge of books, and some experience in investigation, this is enough; but even they would not disdain further assistance; and it would certainly be well that the inexperienced, the ignorant, and those who, whatever their acquaintance with certain fields of literature, must occa- sionally venture into paths unknown to them, should find a ready guide in the catalogue. Few persons are so much inter- ested in any subject as to care to read all that has been writ- ten upon it. In general, men wish to get the most information in the shortest time from the most reliable source; they require, so to speak, a chrestomathy of the matter. A young man, we will suppose, who has read Sir Amyas Leigh with avidity, wishes to learn something more about the age of Elizabeth. The catalogue has done much for him in that it has picked out the histories from all the other books in the library, and from all the histories those of Great Britain, and from them 1869.] New Catalogue of Harvard College Library. 127 the histories of the Elizabethan age. But this is not enough. He asks what is the best history of the Elizabethan age. Can any means be devised of answering his question? Merely to give him a list of works, good, bad, and indifferent, without a word to show their character, is to dishearten or misguide him. Unless he has considerable literary knowledge, more than most young men have, he is as likely to choose the bad or indifferent as the good. If, as is not improbable, he has never heard of Froude, and only heard of Hume, if, as is al- most certain, Aikin, Burton, Camden, Naunton, Raumer, Wright, are entirely unknown to him, how can he make a good selection? It may be said that he can consult the librarians, or, if he has time, his instructors, and the various histories of literature; but the New Catalogue was designed to save him, as far as possible, from the necessity of consulting anybody. How can it do so in the present case? The difficulties of the plan are here comparatively slight, the difficulties of the execution are almost insuperable. And first, of the plan. If it be merely desired to point out to the novice a few of the best authors, as, in Ecclesiastical History, Neander, or Milman, or Stanley, in Geology, Lyehl, in Comparative Philology, Max Muller, or Professor Whitney, so much could easily be done by prefixing to the titles a * or a ~ But whoever wishes to see on which of the cards these marks are placed must examine each card, which is a work of time. To enable any person to turn immediately to the leading work in each division, the only part of the card which is seen when the drawer is first opened the top should be marked in some way so as to catch the eye at once. It might be dipped into some bright-colored ink; but unfortunately use, after a time, reduces the top of the cards to a uniform dingy hue, which recalls the edges of the leaves of circulating-library novels. A mark, less conspicuous at first, but more lasting, would be a notch, always made in the same part of the top, or the cutting off of one of the corners. This, indeed, might be too perma- nent, for in science, at least, the best book of to-day must give place before long to a better; and it would mark, at any rate, but a rude division. One could hardly be contented to sepa- rate books into sheep and goats. They are of every degree 128 New Catalogue of harvard College Library. [Jan. of merit. Some are good in one way, some in another; some for one man, some for another; some for one purpose, and not at all for another. To take a few of the histories of France: Michelet is brilliant, and in his later volumes erratic; Crowe is reliable, but certainly not brilliant ; Alison has a reputation not lower than his deserts ; Henri is diligent, comprehensive, interesting, and long; IDurny is admirable as an epitomist. What system of asterisks or notches or colors could tell all this? We must have notes; and this brings us back to the necessity of manipulating the cards, to see where and what the notes are. And here comes in also the difficulty of execution. Who shall write all these notes ? What man is there who will un- dertake to say of a hundred thousand volumes, not only what subjects they treat, but how well they treat them? Who will gauge with equal facility and equal correctness the merits of a history of painting, a treatise on quaternions, a discussion of the nature of time and space or of the law of ejeetments, an edition of a Greek play or Sanskrit poem, an opera, novel, or volume of sermons? In fact, it is plain that a perfect classed and descriptive catalogue is unattainable. But this is a matter in which completeness is not necessary. Whatever is well done will be profitable. And it would certainly seem that a university, where must be assembled many men of great spe- cial learning, who could give assistance in this work, and onght to be interested in having it properly done, possesses unusual advantages for the construction of such a catalogue. Without some such assistance, no corps of librarians that any American library possesses is equal to the task.* The New Catalogue has elicited frequent and warm expres- sions of approbation from those who have had recourse to it, especially from the students, and its plan has been adopted by several other libraries. Its usefulness,f present and future, * Some veers ago the most important titles in some parts of the Index were marked with an asterisk; bnt the work was discontinued, because it was thought that a selcetion could be made to more advantage when the number of titles should be largcr. 1 One o~e h s not been mentioned. It is very easy to discover the deficiencies of the library in any departmcnt, when all that it possesses in that department is brought together. A brief comparison of that part of the catalogue with a good special bibliography ~vill show what are the most important works still wanting. 1869.] New Catalogue of harvard College Lil~rary. 129 can hardly be overestimated. A large library nucatalogued is like a large city without a directory. The stranger strolls around it at random, and finds much to admire and enjoy; but if he has any purpose in his visit, it may be utterly frustrated: he will spend in his search time which he can ill spare, time in which he intended to transact his affairs or was to enjoy the company of his friends. Nay, it is much easier to become ac- quainted with the city than with the library: the signs catch the eye more quickly than the titles on the backs of the books; it is easier to remember and find again the place of a house than of a volume; and authors do not expose their wares in shop-windows, to show at once where ones wants can be sup- plied. The attendants are often good guides, better for cer- tain parts of the library, and easier to consnlt, than any unin- telligent catalogue can be: but few men can have its universal memory; and men die, while the catalogue lasts. A library is not worth anything without a catalogue, says Carlyle; it is a Polyphemus without any eye in his head. One who consults a library provided with a catalogue like Mr. Abbots is a Briareus, with a hundred eyes and hands. Yet such is the ignorance which prevails in the world about library administra- tion, that the catalogue is hardly ever thought of by those who found libraries. Thousands of dollars are provided to pro- cure books, and not a cent to make them useful after they are received. CHARLES A. CUTTER. With this information, and with money, it becomes easy to make the library sym- metrical. The New Catniogue thus not only revenls its treasures so that they can be used, but its wants so that they can be judiciously supplied. voL. cviii.No. 222. 9 130 Railroad Inflation. [Jan. ART. VI. RAILROAD INFLATION. USAGE and long-established authority have fixed upon the word tax a meaning which is too exclusively political, as though some form of government could alone, and solely for its own purposes, impose a pecuniary burden under this name upon the wealth of a community. Such a definition is open to serious objections. It not only creates a mischievous confu- sion of ideas, but it actually deceives the community as to the xtent and unnecessary nature of many of the burdens under which it labors. The burden of taxation, as it is called, is crudely measured by the proportion which the public revenue bears to the numbers or supposed wealth of any community as expressed in the census. Such a measure is fallacious in the extreme. A tax is not only a contribution taken directly from the resources of any community for governmental or public uses, but, in its general significance, it is also any burden, natu- ral or artificial, which, without altering the intrinsic value, the quality, or the quantity of raw material, adds to its cost before it reaches the consumer. It is an elementary principle of political economy, that all wealth comes from the soil; neither human industry nor hu- man ingenuity can produce any addition to the material pos- sessions of mankind, except from the earth. The legerdemain of paper financiering operates largely upon the distribution of property, not uncommonly taking from one who is indus- trious, and giving to another who is cunning, a proportion of the honest results of labor. But however and with what- soever degree of fraud it operates upon the distribution of wealth, it never directly creates it. Everything produced from the earth, moreover, is valuable only in so far as some one wants it and is willing to exchange labor or its products for it. Speaking somewhat loosely, all mankind may, then, be livided into the two great classes of consumers and producers, to the first of which every human being, and to the last of which the vast majority of mankind, belongs. Between the pro- ducer of the raw material and the consumer there comes an intermediate class, the possessors of skilled labor, those who

130 Railroad Inflation. [Jan. ART. VI. RAILROAD INFLATION. USAGE and long-established authority have fixed upon the word tax a meaning which is too exclusively political, as though some form of government could alone, and solely for its own purposes, impose a pecuniary burden under this name upon the wealth of a community. Such a definition is open to serious objections. It not only creates a mischievous confu- sion of ideas, but it actually deceives the community as to the xtent and unnecessary nature of many of the burdens under which it labors. The burden of taxation, as it is called, is crudely measured by the proportion which the public revenue bears to the numbers or supposed wealth of any community as expressed in the census. Such a measure is fallacious in the extreme. A tax is not only a contribution taken directly from the resources of any community for governmental or public uses, but, in its general significance, it is also any burden, natu- ral or artificial, which, without altering the intrinsic value, the quality, or the quantity of raw material, adds to its cost before it reaches the consumer. It is an elementary principle of political economy, that all wealth comes from the soil; neither human industry nor hu- man ingenuity can produce any addition to the material pos- sessions of mankind, except from the earth. The legerdemain of paper financiering operates largely upon the distribution of property, not uncommonly taking from one who is indus- trious, and giving to another who is cunning, a proportion of the honest results of labor. But however and with what- soever degree of fraud it operates upon the distribution of wealth, it never directly creates it. Everything produced from the earth, moreover, is valuable only in so far as some one wants it and is willing to exchange labor or its products for it. Speaking somewhat loosely, all mankind may, then, be livided into the two great classes of consumers and producers, to the first of which every human being, and to the last of which the vast majority of mankind, belongs. Between the pro- ducer of the raw material and the consumer there comes an intermediate class, the possessors of skilled labor, those who 1869.] Railroad Inflation. 131 by their labor lend an additional intrinsic value to the raw ma- terial. Such are all manufacturers. The sum total, therefore, of the wealth of any community and of the whole world con- sists of all that which it has extorted from the earth, enriched by any factitious value which may have been added to it. These two elements of cost production and manufacture are necessary preliminaries to a fitness for consumption: everything beyond these which adds to the price of a com- modity before it reaches the consumer is a tax levied upon consumption or production; just as much a tax, if the increase is charged for transportation and collected by an importer over his counter, as if it is charged for revenue and received by a collector at the custom-house. If tea, for instance, is raised and cured in China, and thence transported thousands of miles to London, and the consumer in London pays three times the price at which it was sold by him who cured it in China, that additional sum, however fairly earned by the services rendered, is nothing more nor less than a tax of two hundred per cent on the consumption of tea in London, which again reacts and affects the profit on its production in China. It is a necessary tax, perhaps, in view of existing means of transportation, but none the less is it a tax. The process of removal from one point to another from the point of production to that of consum~ tion has in this case added nothing to the wealth or posses- sions of the world. It has, indeed, distributed, but it has in no way increased or intrinsically qualified human possessions; for after it, as before, whether in Canton or in London, the world possessed the same number of pounds of tea of a given quality. So of flour, of cotton, and of every other product of the soil. Transportation cannot add to wealth ; it is simply a distribution of wealth already in existence; and the cost of distribution constitutes a tax on consumption, levied indiffer- ently on the producer, the manufacturer, and the consumer. This tax must necessarily fall upon all parties, though in unequal proportions very difficult to ascertain. The consumer has apparently to pay the entire amount. There is no doubt about his bearing a portion at least of the burden. But it does not rest on him alone, as few will deny in America, at least while unthreshed wheat is yet burned for fuel, and the trans 132 Railroad Inflation. [Jan. portation tax at times robs the producer of the whole fruits of his toil. Could that tax be wholly abolished, and breadstuffs be transported without cost to London, the exchangeable value of flour would rise in Chicago and fall in Liverpool. Society would then at once be relieved of a tax in comparison with which all the imposts of governments are trivial. In like manner, anything which adds to the necessary cost of trans- portation aggravates the tax, and anything which diminishes it removes one more burden from human toil. This is a form of taxation not often referred to in the trea- tises. Vastly the greater portion of all human expenditure is consnmed in taxes, if in taxes are included those profits and charges which add nothing to the sum of human wealth, but on- ly to exchangeable values. Government taxes are burdensome enough, and most burdensome when they are hidden away under the ingenious fraud of indirect taxation: yet ninety- nine out of a hundred will uncomplainingly accept a rise in money value of one hundred per cent occasioned by an impost for revenue upon some article of necessary domestic consump- tion, and this, too, the immediate and legitimate result of some clumsy piece of fiscal legislation, when a direct tax amount- ing to no more than one fifth of what is thus annually filched from their pockets would strike them as intolerable oppression. Sir Robert Peel, in 1841, said in the House of Commons: Give me a direct payment (in the form of an income tax) of five millions per annum, and I shall be able to reduce your taxation on tea, coffee, sugar, and all the other necessaries of life, to the amount of twenty millions per annum. This promise, fulfilled in the event, rested upon what should be an axiom in the science of revenue, that taxes are more easily imposed and more patiently borne in the same proportion as they are indirect: though it will some day be generally rec- ognized that in proportion as taxation is indirect it is oner- ous and oppressive. The mass of men are always superficial. They are apt to believe what they are pleased to call the cvi- deuce of their own senses, than which no evidence can be more deceptive. A tax levied by an assessor, and collected by a tax-gatherer, strikes the common run of mankind aghast. The cold, hard figures will not away. They are visible, they Railroad Inflation. 133 are real, they must be paid, and that altogether and in ready money. One realizes, in paying the direct tax, the impor- tance of economy in government, and feels corruption there to be a personal wrong; yet that same man will content himself with vague grumbling at the hardness of the times, will see corruption run riot in every office of the government without a thought, provided he pays his fivefold tax only in the increased charges of the grocer, the tailor, and the haber- dasher, and not down in hard money into the hands of an officer. The course of the American people in regard to their paper currency furnishes a perfect illustration of this truth. They have the reputation of being quick to discern their own in- terest, especially when the dollar enters into the account, and it was once conceded in this country that no tax was so in- equitable or so onerous as the tax imposed by the use of irre- deemable paper money, so profitable to the speculator and the gambler, so oppressive to the honest and industrious. The vast majority of our people were supposed to belong to the latter class. Paper money imposes a tax on this latter class in favor of the former. What is the amount of the tax? The annual sales of merchandise alone in this country are returned at ten thousand millions of dollars. Upon this immense mass of transactions a tax must be levied to cover fluctuations of paper value. Those who make transfers can only in this way secure themselves against loss, present and future. This tax is paid by every consumer, on every article consumed, on which those by whom exchanges are made do not suffer a loss; and in view of the fluctuations which take place in values, one and a half per cent cannot be considered an un- reasonable provision against them. The currency tax, then, amounts to~, 150,000,000 a year, or one half of the expenditure of the United States. This is a tax which does not appear in the Reports of the Treasury, a mere incidental payment made by consumers to dealers and middle-men, those by whom ex- changes are made, the class to which almost exclusively the speculators and gamblers belong. All mankind in America pay this tax, but all do not profit by it. The middle-man pays it in so far as he is a consumer, and he profits by it in so far 134 Railroad Inflati6n. [Jan. as he is a middle-man, he receives many-fold what he pays; tbe mere consumer pays as such, and receives nothing; the producer pays in so far as he is a consumer, and also bears the burden of decreased production which must follow this tax on consumption. The vast majority in the country, then, and es- pecially the owners of downright labor, who constitute the only real wealth-producers, pay this tax to a small minority in the large towns. And yet the essential measures merely prelimi- nary to a return to the money of the world may not even be mentioned by any political party which dreams of success. The people believe the socalled evidence of their senses, and, forgetting that appearances are deceptive, they hug their heavy burdens, being only wise in their own conceit. These facts and principles must be clearly borne in mind, else the great interest which communities have in all questions of transportation cannot be appreciated. The preliminary discus- sion may be fairly summed up as follows. All elements of price which add to the amount paid by the consumer of any com- modity above the cost of the production and manufacture are in the nature of direct taxes on consumption and of indirect taxes on production, whether imposed by government, by distance, or the friction of trade, everywhere and always a tax. The more these taxes are imposed directly, the less onerous and injurious they are; the more indirectly they are imposed, the more unequal and oppressive they become. It is computed that the yearly revenue of the forty thousand miles of railroad in the United States is about ~ 350,000,000. This amount, it must be remembered, is a simple tax on travel and production. It is perfectly true, it is a necessary tax, and one gladly paid; for without it neither travel nor production on the present scale could exist. Undoubtedly, moreover, the speed and convenience of the railroad system lead to an in- calculable saving of time and friction, and consequent increase of wealth. At the same time, the railroad system in itself di- rectly produces nothing; though it carries innumerable tons of merchandise, it never makes one ton two. It simply greatly relieves the friction of commerce, but by no means destroys it. That friction is now represented by a tax, or increased cost, of some three hundred and fifty millions a year, upon travel 1869.1 Railroad inflation. 135 and traffic. Could a new invention be developed which would constitute as great an improvement on railroad locomotion as that is on the system which preceded it, then this annual expenditure of $ 350,000,000 would be reduced to about $35,000,000 upon the same amount moved. In this sense, therefore, the entire cost of transportation is a tax upon the community; it has been much greater, it may hereafter be much less; greater or less, however, it must always remain a tax. The next question is, For what purpose is this tax levied, and to whom does it accrue? What portion of this large sum is a necessary tax upon the community? and what portion, if any, is unnecessary? IRailroads must not only be built, but they must be operated. The gross income of the system must therefore be devoted to two ends: first, to the operating of the roads; and, secondly, to the remuneration of the capital invested in them. The tables of statistics show, that, under the present system of operating American railroads, which must be presumed to be reasonably economical, seventy per cent of the gross earnings are consumed in operating expenses. This is approximately the absolute cost of working and re- placing the machinery which keeps up the movement of com- merce. It is the necessary tax, the first cost, as it were, of friction. The remaining thirty per cent of the three hundred and fifty millions of gross revenue more than a hundred millions of dollars per annum is the amount reserved as a remuneration for the capital and the risk involved in the construction and management of the system. This sum is, therefore, an annual tax by itself, which the people of this country pay to those who own and control our railroads; and it is a tax deserving of a more attentive consideration thaii it generally receives. In view of the inestimable value, both immediate and prospective, of the service rendered, and of the essential part it plays in material and moral progress, it would indeed be strange, if this tax were very closely scru- tinized, or were not cheerfully, and even eagerly, paid. Yet every tax upon their resources should be calmly and care- fully scanned by a people who pretend to guide their own destinies. In spite, however, of its enormous proportions and 136 Railroad Inflation. [Jan. onerous nature, in spite of the fact that it adds to the cost of every article of consumption and enters into the expense of every movement of national and individual life, this trans- portation tax is so indirect in its nature, so plausible and fair in its reason, and so much a portion of the customary life of the community, that it excites absolutely less attention and less real interest and discussion than a tax of a dollar a gallon on whiskey or two cents a pound on cotton. This annual tax of a hundred millions, or thereabouts, is necessarily levied upon the community by the owners of the railroad system, as being in their estimation a fair compensa- tion, or the best they can get, for the value of the services ren- dered by them. In other words, certain individuals, respon- sible to no authority and pertaining to no government, looking solely to the interests of an immediate constituency, yearly levy on the American people a tax, as a remuneration for their own capital and labor, assessed and levied by themselves, equal to one third the expenses of the United States govern- ment. In this case it may be that the remuneration is not excessive. llailroad financiers and railroad kings may be unlike other men, and may ask only that which is just and right. If this be so, it is fortunate for the community; for never before was a power so enormous intrusted to irresponsi- ble hands. The obvious danger of committing so extraordina- ry a power to private individuals could uiot well have escaped the attention of legislators. But the magnitude of the system then inaugurated was not understood forty years ago, and cx- perience alone could furnish the data upon which a correct system of legislation could be based. The only remedy which then suggested itself was the simple one of affixing a limit to profits. This was accordingly done, and in the earliest charters granted in this country are found clauses reserving a power of abating charges for transportation whenever the dividends of the companies shall exceed a certain per- centage on the capital. In England, Parliament further at- tempted to limit the profits of these enterprises by including in the charters long and carefully prepared lists of charges which the companies could not exceed. Such an attempt, made at that time, could of course only be very crude and Railroad Inflation. 131 unsatisfactory. It accordingly resulted that the tariffs of charges, being based upon the old turnpike and canal experi- ences, were extremely exorbitant, and the profits of the early lines were unduly large. In other words, the tax levied on the community by the proprietors of the lines in their own favor was evidently oppressive. This was, however, a direct tax, and, like all excessive direct taxation, it speedily wrought its own cure. The attention of Parliament was called to the subject, and in 1844, at the instance of Mr. Gladstone, a law was enacted which contained a clause of general operation, practically, in the view of railway directors, limiting their dividends to ten per cent per annum upon the stock of their roads. This particular feature of an otherwise well-consid- ered act led to results in no way anticipated. Not only did it go far towards bringing on the railroad mania of 1845, which was comparatively a small matter, but it introduced into Eng- land the practice of what has since been known as stock- watering, one of the niost ingenious and oppressive forms of burdening the growth and industry of a people and of mortgaging future development which have ever been devised. Immediately upon the enactment of this law the railway man~- agers resorted to the usual weapons of those who wish to tax an unwilling community. The more direct and lighter tax having raised a popular outcry, they acquiesced in what they regarded as its repeal, and at once proceeded to levy several times the sum previously levied, through a vastly more oppres- sive form of indirect taxation. As they considered that after the enactment of 1844 they could no longer, on their existing stock, safely divide all the money they could earn, the railroad financiers incontinently proceeded, on every possible pretext, to create additional shares, until the gross amount of the stock should be sufficient to absorb, in the dividends allowed by the act, the utmost possible net earnings of their roads. The Glad- stone act, in so far as it failed to place checks upon the creation of new stock, was defective. Excessive charges and large profits had been found to be like excessive direct taxation, a present burden, which wrought its own cure, and that speedily; but an increase of stock was nothing more nor less than a creation of new national debt. It represented so much paper capital to pay 138 Railroad Inflation. [Jan. dividends and interest upon which a tax in the shape of trans- portation charges was to be levied forever. In other words, the increasing business of the community was mortgaged in perpe- tuity to pay dividends on capital stock of railways upon which not a penny had ever been paid in. It is not worth while, however, to go into the details of the history of stock-watering in England. There it has never been reduced to a science, although Sir Morton Peto has lately carried it to a very creditable degree of perfection. In America only is the process found in its highest stage of development. Here it may be studied as an art now in its mature perfection. Commenced long ago, as a simple and desperate expedient for raising money at an enormous discount for the purpose of com- pleting enterprises of doubtful success, we find it referred to in the earlier history of some roads now the most profitable, in pas- sages curiously suggestive. Take, for instance, the roads which have been consolidated into what is now known as the Pittsburg, Fort Wayne, and Chicago. Of one of these we read: The stock subscriptions which were paid in cash into the treasury of the company were very small, amounting perhaps, in all, to less than three per cent on the final cost of building and equipping the road. The stock subscriptions were paid for mostly in uncultivated lands, farms, town lots, and labor upon the road. Of the whole road as it stands we are told, that, of the $ 18,663,876, now representing the cost of the road and equipment, & c., the shareholders contributed in cash only about ten per cent, or less than $ 2,000,000; and their con- tributions in cash, bonds, notes, lands, and personal property, labor, & c., to something less than $4,000,000, or rather more than twenty per cent of the present cost of the work. The difference between this sum and the capital stock, as now shown by the books of the company, is made up of dividends which were paid in stock, interest on stock paid in stock, pre- mium on stock allowed to stockholders at the time of consol- idation, which was paid in stock, and a balance of stock still held by the trustees. This, however, was in the early days of the enterprises, the days of doubtful snccess, when stock was thought worth- less, and often proved so, and was almost givcn away. But Railroad I~fiation. 139 stock-watering soon took a new form, readily adapting it- self to conditions of assured success. It is eight hundred and thirty-seven miles from Albany to Chicago. The roads connecting those two points will furnish a good example of the phase of stock-watering now under consideration. The New York Central was consolidated under a special act of Assembly in 1852. Eleven roads went into the consolidation with an aggregate capital of $ 23,235,600. The stock lowest in value of the eleven was settled upon as the par of the new concern, and the stocks of the other ten companies were re- ceived at a premium varying from seventeen to fifty-five per cent. By this simple financial arrangement, $ 8,894,500 of securities, of which not one cent was ever represented by property, but which in reality constituted so much guarantied stock, was made a charge, principal and interest, against fn- ture income. In other words, an indirect tax of over half a million a year was imposed upon the community, which was to receive absolutely nothing in compensation. The next step towards Chica~o was one of eighty-eight miles to Erie. This was made up of a consolidation of two roads which went in with $2,800,000 of capital and came out with $5,000,000. Upon this ten per cent dividends are regularly paid, imposing another gratuitous tax of $ 220,000 forever. The next step in the line was one of ninety-six miles to Cleveland. There has been no consolidation here, simply honest, straight-forward watering, and that with the whole head of the hydrant. This road has cost in money $4,868,427; it has divided in seven years three hundred and nineteen per cent, and the company pays interest and dividends on bonds and stock to the amount of $11,250,000, an indirect gratuitous tax on material de- velopment of perhaps half a million a year. The remaining three hundred and ninety miles to Chicago represent as near- ly as may be $ 3,000,000 more of paper capital, imposing in round numbers a fnrther annual tax of $200,000. In all, a permanent gratuitous tax for paper capital on one single line of road of over $1,400,000 per annum. Almost every conceivable vicissitude of railroad fortune has at some time served its turn as an excuse for stock-watering. Companies have watered their stock because they were rich 140 Railroad It~flation. [Jan. and had a surplus, and they have watered it because they were poor and could not make dividends; they have watered it be- cause they did not have stock enough, and recently Erie has been flooded because there was so much of the stock that more made no difference. Stock has been issued because roads have been subjected to opposition, and it is regularly issued be- cause they are exempt from it. The Northwestern turns out an honest president because he objects to an issue of stock, and the New Haven has to submit to heavy watering at the hands of a fraudulent treasurer. Then the familiar practice meets us in its English form as a means of evading a usury law. The State of Massachusetts has always regulated the payment of dividends by practically limiting them to ten per cent on the roads within her limits. Certain railroad companies in the State earned much more than this. These companies, of course, represented the most prosperous, and, for that very reason, the most important lines of travel to the community, those lines upon which its whole success in the nineteenth-century strug- gle of competition essentially depended. Of course it was of vital importance to the community to which these roads were the main arteries of prosperity, that the traffic upon them should be taxed as little as possible. The lines, however, have been very profitable, so much so that dividends of ten per cent per annum by no means depleted the treasury. The community and the legislature watched them with jealous eyes, and it thus became a delicate question how they could best convey their excessive gains from their own pockets to those of the stockholders. Stock-watering, here as in England, furnished a simple and effective means. A consolidation furnished the pretext, an adjournment of the legislature the occasion; in- stantly $2,000,000 disappeared out of the treasury and found its way in the form of stock into the pockets of the stockhold- ers, and the business of Massachusetts and Boston was sub- jected to an additional tax of $200,000 per annum. The process not only depleted the inconveniently swollen treasury, but, by increasing in perpetuity the gross amount of stock in existence, it went to the root of the evil of excessive earn- ings, by increasing the number of recipients to whom the legal dividend must in future be paid. 1869.1 Railroad Inflation. 141 Now and then some delectable financial scheme of the na- ture of that just described comes to grief, but very rarely, and then as a rule for no good reason. Generally the financier is too much for the legislator. At the last session of the Massa- chusetts legislature, for instance, a quarrel between the execu- tive and the legislature about the prohibitory liquor law caused the defeat of a very neat little scheme to inflate a ten per cent stock through a consolidation to the extent of five and a half millions. Another year the lobby will probably be more fortu- nate. But while instances of failure are rare, the records of successful waterings abound. The Reading Road, for instance, was represented in 1843 by $7,111,292 of capital stock and in- debtedness; by 1860 this had increased to $ 24,161,889, and it is now $30,000,000. During these twenty-five years this road has issued 105 per cent of stock dividends on common stock, and 48 per cent in common on preferred stock. Some of the & sets set down at cost and included in this thirty million were paid for in cash, and some in bonds at seventy cents on the dollar. Of the stock issues, perhaps thirty per cent were pure water, and the other fifty represented some corresponding, though perhaps nominal, increase of assets. That a road cannot pay regular cash dividends is scarcely to be wondered at, when the divisor is represented by an ever-increasing quantity. The Atlantic and Great Western, again, a notable instance of railroad finan- ciering, represents a nominal cost of $58,812,853, yet the most competent authority asserts that not more than $20,000,000 of real money has ever been expended upon it. The Pennsyl- vania Central since 1862 has not only paid nine per cent per annum in cash, but has watered to the extent of thirty-five per cent more, thus imposing an annual tax of more than $400,000. In six years the Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy has watered to the extent of $ 5,447,600 upon a stock capital of $ 5,738,740, representing therein over half a million of permanent annual impost on that line of traffic. The Chi- cago and Alton, having in February, 1866, a stock capital of $4,208,918, selling at 119 per cent, issued $2,103,300 of stock, upon which 632,915 was called in for construction. Upon the remaining million and a half of pure water the traffic of that line has since paid, and will probably continue to pay, ten per 142 Railroad itzfiation. [Jan. cent per annum. The Cleveland, Painesyille, and Ashtabula, with its cost of less than five millions and its construction account of over eleven, has already been noticed in connec- tion with the Albany and Chicago line. The Erie it is use- less to refer to. Since 1866, by pure manipulation, the stock capital of this concern has been run up from $ 16,500,000, authorized by law, to $ 60,500,000, issued by a ring. A cor- poration, however, which buys Pikes Opera House in Chicago, and nine houses in Twenty-third Street, and takes out the conveyances of its real estate operations in the names of indi- vidual directors, is probably something more than a railway. The operations in Erie have long since degenerated into bare- faced, gigantic swindling. But Commodore Vanderbilts mas- terpieces have not yet been referred to, though by one turn of his hand three and a half millions of wholly fictitious Hudson River stock were turned upon the market. Rumor has long ascribed to him also a magnificent scheme of deluging Har- lem, Hudson River, and New York Central together, of making by a single turn, of the hydrant sixty-eight millions out of their present forty-nine millions of united stock capital, and of exacting in future ten millions of net out of forty millions of gross earnings, instead of a beggarly five millions out of twenty millions as at present. Such a climax of paper capital may yet be in store for us, as the last sinful absurdity of an era of paper money, and the loftiest triumph of railroad financiering. Prob- ably, however, an intelligent people will some day realize that wealth can be created only by hard labor, and that every sleight of hand somewhere conceals a swindle. If we turn from railways operated by steam to those op- erated by horse power, the picture does not improve. lix pede Herculem, take the street railways of New York City. Those best informed assert that the original stockholders of the Second Avenue Road did not pay a cent for their stock. The road cost about $250,000; its stock now stands at $618,000, and its bonds at $350,000. The Third Avenue Road cost $463,000; its capital is now $1,250,000, or three times the cost; and within a year each stockholder has re- ceived a bond equal to the amount of his stock, making a fictitious capital more than five times the cost. The Sixth 1869.] Railroad Inflation. 143 and Eighth Avenue Roads, more moderate, are contented as yet with but a fourfold inflation. When, therefore, these roads, like some steam roads, complain, that, notwithstanding all this, they can make only a moderate dividend of six to ten per cent per annum on their capital, it becomes a pertinent question, whether they mean six to ten per cent on their paper capital, or thirty to fifty per cent on the real cost of their roads. The science of stock-watering, as thus far described, had not yet, however, attained perfection. The highest stage of devel- opment was of course reserved for the last. The stock of cor- porations had not yet been given away as a sort of gratuity, the right to direct railways and to tax trade was not yet thrown in as a makeweight. In the earlier days of railroad financier- in~r it would naturally have seemed almost impossible to accom- plish such a result, but time and experience brought even this about. It originated in the system of railroad mortgages. Very early, and very naturally, in the immature days of the system, attempts were made to construct railways upon an insufficient capital. Funds gave out before the enterprises were half developed, and projectors had their election between abandonment or progress at any price. The obvious resource was to mortgage the property already in existence. Soon the market was weighed down with every conceivable description of railroad security. First there was a floating debt; then preference stock, to be followed in rapid succession by first, second, and third mortgages; construction and equipment bonds closing up the dreary procession, which not seldom ended at the tomb of a receivership. All these evidences of indebtedness were, however, secured on property really in existence. The art was not at first discovered of mortgaging something thereafter to be created. Presently new roads were projected, the business of railroad construction and financiering being now reduced to a system. The country through which these roads were to pass was young and poor, and capital had to be brought in from outside. There was abundance of it, and that, too, in the hands of men who under- stood their business, and who drove hard bargains, and those men must be induced to think well of the enterprise. The 144 Railroad Inflation. whole thing is in the hands of a ring, a combination of poli- ticians, projectors, and capitalists. In the first place, a new road is demanded, and, as an enterprise, promises well. The next thing is to raise the money necessary to construct it. This is done, not by laying an assessment upon the stock, that is not heard of as yet, and has no value in the market, it exists only in name. In place of this, the bonds are put upon the market at a stated price, which, or a portion of which, is advanced by the capitalist, and construction is car- ried on with the proceeds. The stock itself then passes as a gratuity into the hands of those advancing money upon the bonds. The result i~, that by this ingenious expedient the ring hold a mortgage, paying them a secured and lib- eral interest, on their own property, which has been con- veyed to them forever for nothing. The stock is at once nothing and everything. Given away, the donecs own and manage the road, and, receiving a fixed and assured interest upon their bonds, enjoy a further right to exact an additional sum, and one as large as they are able to make it, from the developing business of the country, as dividends on the stock. Instances of this form of railroad financiering need not be specified, for it is now the common course of Western railroad construction. The new country needs its railroads, and is willing to pay anything for them. The capitalists of the old country specify their own terms of construction, which, in plain language, read simply,A large interest assured, and as much more as the business of the country can be made to pay. Even this process, however, has been improved upon. Not seldom the credit of the embryotic enterprise is bolstered up extraneously. Simple mortgages are not sufficient, and the credit of the road is guarantied by land-grants, or by national or state or town or county loans, or by the credit of con- necting or established lines, or by any or all of these com- bined. Every expedient which the mind of man can devise has been brought into play to secure to the capitalist the largest possible profit, with the least possible risk. The Pacific Railroad furnishes the best example of all these various expedients. The Pacific Railroad is already a power in the land, and is destined to be a power vastly greater than it now is. The Railroad Inflatio~z. 145 present is with it the day of small things, yet it already num- bers its retainers in both houses of Congress, and is building up great communities in the heart of the continent. It will one day be the richest and most powerful corporation in the world; it will probably also be the most corrupt. What the Erie and the New York Central have been to the politics of a single State, that, and ~nore, this road may yet be to those of the whole country. Yet in speaking of it, it is not pleasant to adopt a tone of criticism towards the able and daring men who are with such splendid energy forcing it through to completion. It is a work of great national import and of untold material value. Those who took its construction in hand incurred great risk, and at one time trembled on the verge of ruin. This en- terprise was to them a lottery, in which they might well draw a blank, but, should they draw a prize, the greatness of the prize must justify the risk incurred. The community asked them to assume the risk, and was willing to reward their suc- cess. Success was well worth all it might cost, and the cost should and will be paid uncomplainingly. At the same time it cannot be improper to consider what the process of construc- tion is, and it may not be amiss to argue as to the future of the enterprise from its present; for here, as elsewhere, the child will prove father to the man. As every one must now know, the length of the united road is computed at 1,637 miles, and the cost of construction was estimated at $ 60,000,000. To meet this outlay a stock capital was authorized of $ 100,000,000 for each of the two great divisions of the line; upon this, however, no dependence was placed as a means of raising money; it was only a debt to be imposed, if possible, on the future business of the coun- try, and it will be well if it does not prove about as real a debt as the bonds of the United States. A curious mys- tery, indeed, hangs over this part of the financial arrange- ments of the concern. No one seems to know anything of the stock, and no one seems to be responsible for it. Much is heard of the subsidies, the land-grants, the bonds, and the earnings of the enterprise; but of the stock, where it is, and how it got there, the most diligent are uninformed. Prob- ably not $20,000,000 ever has been, or ever will be, derived VOL. cVIH.NO. 222. 10 146 Railroad inflation. [Jan. from this source. The rest is, or pretends to be, as clear as day: there is the government subsidy of $ 30,000 a mile, and $ 30,000 a mile of mortgage indebtedness; there is a land- grant of 12,800 acres a mile, and, where there are States, there are bonds, with interest guarantied by the State, and real estate donations from cities, where cities exist; and there are even millions of net earning applied to construction. The means to build the road are not grudgingly bestowed. Mean- while, as to difficulties of construction, we are told that the line of the road up the eastern slope of the IRocky Mountains is not so difficult as those upon which several great works have been constructed in the Eastern States; that elevated table- lands present great facilities for the construction of the road; and, finally, that the whole line of the proposed work is a very favorable one, and more than one half of it is practically level. Of the western division we are told that it has surmounted the Sierra Nevada by a favorable line, involving no grade more excessive than such as have been worked for years by the Baltimore and Ohio ; that the remarkable uniformity of the surface offers great facilities for the construction of the proposed road ; and, finally, that this line also, notwithstanding the great elevation of a consider- able portion of it, will compare favorably with Eastern roads. It is, moreover, matter of common notoriety, that, for great distances, this road is sufficiently a surface road to allow miles of track to be laid in a single day. And yet, while the first cost of no other road in the country has exceeded $ 80,000 a mile, and the average has been but $41,000 in localities where such speed of construction was physically impossible, and where heavy land damages added to cost, the contract price paid on the eastern division of this road has been $ 68,058 per mile, while the mountain section of the California end has exceeded $ 100,000. The first-named sum, too, was paid on the Union Pacific for a road which could be laid down at the rate of seven miles, sometimes, in a single day, and some five hundred in a year, while the road-bed was a free gift from the country, and ran, unfenced, over a prairie. This matter is deserving of attention. Letting it pass, however, indulging in no criticism, and conceding that this money is properly and Railroad Inflation. 147 necessarily expended, it still appears that a debt in stock and bonds of some $ 320,000,000 is likely to be incurred for a work which will have really cost at its contract prices not $ 140,000,000. But what does the work cost the contrac- tors? This, probably, will always be a mystery. Of the western division, or Central Pacific, absolutely nothing is pub- licly known. Managed by a small clique in California, its internal arrangements are involved in about the same obscu- rity as are the rites of Freemasonry. The eastern division, or Pacific Union, however, is built by contract nearer home, and here rumor at least has been busy, and declares that a new piece of machinery, called the Credit Mobilier, has come into play. The Credit Mobilier is understood to be building the road; but what this Credit Mobilier is seems to be as much shrouded in mystery as is the fate of the missing $180,000,000 of capital stock of these roads. The paternity of this institution is currently supposed to lie between General IDuff Green and the irrepressible George Francis Train; or rather,, to speak more exactly, some intelligent broker is sup- posed to have stolen from Green the charter under which the association was organized, and Train applied the stolen prop- erty to the purposes of Pacific Railroad construction. The question of proprietorship, at least, is now understood to be in litigation. Whoever originated this anomalous corporation, it is currently reported to be the real constructor of the Union Pacific, and now to have got into its hands all the unissued stock, the proceeds of the bonds sold, the government bonds, and the earnings of the road,in fact, all its available assets. Its profits are reported to have been enormous, reported only, for throughout all this there is nothing but hearsay and street rumor to rely upon. Sometimes it has been stated that the dividends of this association have amounted to forty per cent a month, and they have certainly exceeded one hundred per cent per annum; at any rate, it has made the fortunes of many, and perhaps of most of those connected with it. Nor are these profits temporary; every dollar of excessive dividend of the Credit Mobilier is represented by a dollar of indebtedness of the Pacific Railroad, with both principal and interest charged to income, and made payable by a tax on trade. Who, then, 148 Railroad Inflation. [Jan. constitute the Credit Mobilier? It is but another name for the Pacific Railroad ring. The members of it are in Congress; they are trustees for the bond-holders, they are directors, they are stockholders, they are contractors; in Washington they vote the subsidies, in New York they receive thcm, upon the Plains they expend them, and in the Credit Mobilier they di- vide them. Ever-shifting characters, they are ever ubiquitous, now engineering a bill, and now a bridge, they receive money into one hand as a corporation, and pay it into the other as a contractor. Humanly speaking, the whole thing seems to be a species of thimble-rig, with this difference from the ordinary arrangement, that, whereas commonly the little joker is never found under the thimble which may be turned up, in this case he is sure to be found, turn up which thimble one may. Under on& name or another a ring of some seventy persons is struck, at whatever point the Union Pacific is ap- proached. As stockholders they own the road, as mortgagees they have a lien upon it, as directors they contract for its con- struction, and as members of the Credit Mobilier they build it. Again, what is the community to pay for it? That they will pay many-fold what the work need to have cost many have long suspected; that, however much they may pay, they will pay more than it is materially worth, few will assert. Here, however, is every vicious element of railroad construction and management; here is costly construction, entailing future taxa- tion on trade ; here are tens of millions of fictitious capital; here is a road built on the sale of its bonds, and with the aid of sub- sidies; here is every element of cost recklessly exaggerated, and the whole at some future day is to make itself felt as a burden on the trade which it is to create, and will surely here- after constitute a source of corruption in the politics of the land, and a resistless power in its legislature. Enough has been said to illustrate the bearing which stock- watering and extravagant construction have upon taxation. It would be useless to attempt to estimate the weight of the burden imposed through these means upon material develop- ment. The statistics which should enter into any reliable esti- mate are not accessible, and any approximation would be sim- ply a matter of guess-work. A few hints upon this point are 1869.] Railroad Inflation. 149 all that exist. A circular of Henry Clews & Co., under date of June 15, 1868, specifies twenty-one leading railroads quoted on the New York Stock Exchange, the stock capitals of which have been increased from $ 157,371,484, in 1862, to $265,828,149, in 1867, or sixty-nine per cent in five years. The Commercial and Financial Chronicle, the best authority which the coun,- try affords on such a subject, in its issue of August 22, 1868, estimated the addition to the share capital of the principal roads upon the New York Stock Exchange as fully $45,000,000 within the last fifteen months. This amount probably repre- sents three millions of additional dividends per annum. As the whole amount of the freight transportation of the entire country during the last year was $ 140,000,000, this amount represents two per cent additional on the whole cost. Mean- while, taking New York as a centre, and allowing the cost of transportation to be one and one half cents per ton per mile, the addition or reduction of one eighth of a cent per mile for heavy articles limits or extends by twenty-five miles the radius of territory from which trade can be drawn. The present circle is upon a radius of 1,200 miles. At a low computation, therefore, this additional tax of $ 3,000,000 per annum, now devoted to dividends as the result of but fifteen months of stock inflation, would, if applied to the reduction of freight on raw materials, have extended the area from which trade could be drawn over at least 20,000 additional square miles of terri- tory. The mischief in so far, however, is done; the forty- five millions have been issued within the fifteen months, and now possess all that sanctity which attaches to vested inter- ests and the rights of property. It only remains for the com- munity to ponder well how many hundreds of millions of stock are yet to be created in this way, and how many additional millions of annual tax are yet to be levied upon them. For the time being, the marvellous growth which naturally marks the development of a new era, like this of steam, in a young country, makes any burden seem easy to be borne. Progress at any price is the watchword of the present. Yet, if the principles upon which that progress is based are not sound, if they are characterized by waste, by fraud, and by improvi- dence, then the progress which is founded upon them cannot 150 Railroad Inflation. [Jan. be healthy. The day of reckoning seems now impending over England. It may yet come for us. V Stock-watering, unfortunately, is but one form of railroad inflation; another form of the same thing, and one even more costly than this to the community, arises from injudicious com- petition. It was many years after the railroad system was in- augurated, before any, except the most clear-sighted, could be made to realize that railroads were a monopoly, and mnst be treated as such, not only in their own interest, but in that of the community. M. IRogier, the Belgian Minister of Finance under King Leopold, saw it as early as 1834, and upon that principle founded the famous system of Belgium. George Stephenson, the sagacious father of locomotion by steam, saw the thing in its true light from the beginning, and condensed the whole question into the pithy apophthegm, that, where combination was possible, competition was impossible. Again in 1846, before a committee of the House of Commons, he gave it as his decided opinion that the power of government super- vision should extend to vetoing the construction of competing lines, to protect the public against the heavy rates of traffic which would be required to remunerate the capital involved in their construction. Stephenson fully appreciated what the ulti- mate burden of free trade in railway construction would amount to. He saw that a line once built must impose a tax on the community, if only to keep itself in existence. He also saw, that, if a competing road was built to divide any given business which could by any possibility be done over a road already constructed, in the end that business must support two roads instead of one. A very slender knowledge of human nature would have enabled him to take the next step, and conclude that any number of competing roads would ultimately unite to exact money from the community, rather than continue a ruin- ous competition. As combination must always remain possible, no matter how many roads are constructed, it necessarily fol- lows, that, the more roads, the heavier tax, provided always that a less number properly managed could have been made to do the work. IRelief did not lie in that direction; it could be found there only under circumstances which rendered exclusive Railroad Inflation. 151 combination impossible. Nor is human legislation to be in- cluded in the number of such circumstances. Had Stephenson lived a few years longer, he would have seen in England an excellent example of the virtues of railroad competition guar- antied by law, as a safeguard to the community, an example not without a savor of comfort for us, with the memory of recent legislative experiences fresh in mind. The Great North- ern Railway went before Parliament for its charter. The lines threatened with competition combined their influence, and the bill was thrown out. The next year the application was re- newed, and those having the bill in charge engineered it suc- cessfully through Parliament by offering to accede to a char- ter limitation of first-class fares to a point thirty per cent be- low those charged by the existing companies. The bill was passed and the line constructed, so that a combination, except at low fares, seemed prohibited by act of Parliament. Before the new road was opened, however, before a passenger had passed over it, its directors, pointing out to the other compa- nies how much they would suffer from such ruinous competi- tion, iaduced them to combine the Parliamentary strength of all concerned, and they actually engineered through Parliament an amendatory bill, raising the fares of the new road to the level of the old. The law of self-preservation had simply been repealed by act of Parliament. How much this fallacy of cheap transportation through rail- road competition has cost Great Britain cannot well be esti- mated. During the mania of 1845 46, it was estimated by Mr. Laing, of the Board of Trade, and the estimate was con- firmed by Robert Stephenson, that out of three hundred mil- lions sterling, at that time expended, seventy millions had been completely thrown away in constructing unnecessary dupli- cate lines with a view to competition. No similar estimate by a competent authority has ever been made for America, but glaring examples of the costly blnnder need not be sought far. An admirable instance is furnished in the history of Massachusetts. The introduction of the railroad system revo- lutionized America more, perhaps, than any other part of the world. The great resources of the country were opened up with surprising rapidity, and new channels of trade con- 152 Railroad Inflation. [Jan. tinually revealed themselves. The law of gravitation also made itself felt, attracting commerce more and more to certain great centres, and ever threatening to leave local centres bereft of their importance. Boston was one of these local centres; and Massachusetts, also, as a community, took pride in her individuality. The great force of the natural law seemed at once to threaten destruction both to material prosperity and to individual character. To preserve to Boston her commerce and importance as a centre thus became a great feature of Mas- sachusetts policy. It was essential that the city should remain a channel of trade between the interior of the country and the world beyond the Atlantic. To attain this result in competi- tion with New York it was absolutely necessary to reduce the time and expense of transportation, both of persons and of merchandise, to the lowest possible point. If the work were all to be done over again, it would not now be difficult to devise and to estimate the cost of the thorough- fares which the interest of this community most demanded. Regarding the outlay as an expenditure of private wealth to be remunerated by a tax upon transportation, the aim should be to expend the money under such conditions, natural and finan- cial, as would accomplish the greatest possible amount of busi- ness at the least possible tax. Two channels of communi- cation were evidently required: one communicating directly with the West by rail by way of Albany, and running over much the same line as that traversed by the Boston and Albany Road; the other communicating directly with the Lakes, and connecting as closely as possible the great internal waters of the continent with Boston harbor. Such a thoroughfare would naturally have passed from Boston by way of Fitchburg, Rut- land, and Crown Point, through the Adirondack iron regions, directly to Ogdensburg. The cost of two such lines can easily be estimated. From Boston to Albany is 200 miles, and from Boston to Ogdensburg by the way indicated would be about 350 by rail; the cost of the roads, thoroughly equipped, should not have exceeded $65,000 a mile, or 35,000,000 in all. The annual tax to remunerate this amount of capital, which must have been levied upon trade over the lines, need not have ex- ceeded $ 3,000,000. 1869.] Railroad Inflation. 153 Turn now from what should have been done to the consid- eration of what has been done, and what is now being done. The men of thirty years ago evinced great sagacity iu the way in which they began their work. They had no experience of the system they were called upon to inaugurate, but, as far as they went, they made few mistakes, and, had the next genera- tion acquitted itself as well, the results of to-day would have been very different from what they are. The first effort was to connect Massachusetts and Boston with the interior of the continent, and to that end the present Boston and Albany Road was chartered in 1831 and 1833. The through line was opened in 1842, and the construction account of the two roads consti- tuting it was then represented by the not unreasonable amount of $5,700,000 of stock, and $5,319,520 of indebtedness. At this time the vicious principle was established of limiting the dividends on capital stock to seven per cent per annum on the Western, and ten per cent on the Boston and Worcester Road, thus attempting to protect the interests of the community, under the impression that all surplus earnings would naturally be devoted to the development of the enterprise, or to the reduction of fares and freights. Instead of establishing tariffs of maximum charges, subject to stated periodical revision, and leaving the corporation free to divide all they could earn while working within legal limits, it was supposed that corporations would be willing to do all the business that possibly could be done, without regard to the fact that the dividends received de- pended only in a very limited degree upon the amount of work done. It was many years before the fruits of this policy ma- tured. At last they came, and were bitter. All over the coun- try railroads multiplied and extended. Elsewhere rivers were bridged, elevators were built, double tracks were laid down, agencies were established, connections were formed, and im- provements in rolling stock eagerly adopted. Yet in Massa- chusetts, though the seven and ten per cent dividends were regularly paid, though large surplus funds accumulated, and every pretence for the evasion of the foolish usury law was eagerly watched for, at the end of thirty years of successful operation, with the capital stock of the roads quoted at a pre- mium of forty per cent, such a river as the Hudson at Albany 154 Railroad Inflation. [Jan. was unbridged, not an elevator existed upon the soil of Massa- chusetts, but a single track connected Boston with Albany and the West, no agencies of the roads existed, or, if they did exist, they were notoriously inefficient, a through business which on connecting roads had in a few years increased five hundred per cent had not upon this road increased sixty per cent, and the rolling stock of New England was notoriously behind that of Wisconsin or Illinois. The simple truth was, that, while these roads could and did earn all and more than all that they could safely divide by doing the business which came naturally to their hands, they did not care to increase that business, and by so doing, as they feared, brave the danger of hostile legisla- tion. And yet, while the roads were stationary, their capital accounts were by no means so, for the eleven millions of stock and indebtedness of the two. roads in 1842 went into a con- solidation in 1867 twenty-one millions, and came out of it twenty-four. Long before this, however, the whole community, disgusted with manifest results, and too impatient for a correct inves- tigation of causes, went wholly astray in chase of the ignis fatuus of protection through fictitious competition. They saw only that a monopoly existed; they failed wholly to realize that it was far easier and far cheaper to regulate than to de- stroy it. While Baltimore and Philadelphia, following out more correct principles, brought the whole sum of their re- sources to bear upon the immediate development of the single lines connecting them with the interior, increasing their ca- pacity many-fold and making them veritable rivers of com- merce, Massachusetts practically abandoned the development of the roads already constructed, and turned her whole hopes and built for her whole future upon the construction of oppos- ing lines. Thus, while the one line which already connected her with the West, and which might easily have been made to vie with the Pennsylvania Central or the Baltimore and Ohio, was not yet developed to a fifth part of its capacity, three new lines were originated and floundered miserably along to partial completion or immature development. First, a line was to be constructed to Ogdensburg and the waters of Lake Erie. The wretched history of this combina 1869.] Railroad Inflation. 155 tion of roads has already been sketched in the pages of this IReview.* The point of destination was indeed reached, but the history of the enterprise must be sought in the records of the Courts of Chancery of New York, Vermont, and New Hampshire. The several roads which compose this first ab- ortive effort at competition after repeated bankruptcies have indiscriminately swept away numerous issues of every descrip- tion of railroad security are now represented by a capital in stock and bonds which may be stated in round numbers at $ 35,000,000. This line, however, consisting of connecting local roads, was hardly designed for a thoroughfare, and, sub- serving one original purpose, may be left out of the account of Boston mismanagement. It is merely one more possibil- ity lost. Yet this is, to this day, the only one of the three lines which it was thought would relieve Boston of its depend- ence for through traffic upon the Albany load, that has reached its destination at all. It has cost the community, first and last, at least double what the best possible line to the same point need to have cost. It adds comparatively nothing, as yet, to the coveted business connection of the extreme East with the West. It has not yet begun to be developed to the extent of its capacity, or thought of consolidation, which must be the first movement towards it. So much for one effort at protection by competition. Next in point of time came another notable project, which was to accomplish all that was most desired. A line was to run from Boston to the West in connection with the Erie IRoad, as did the Western in connection with the New York Central. Then the Boston, Hartford, and Erie rose into existence, and floundered along over ruined hopes and shattered fortunes on a paper capital, promising everything and accomplishing noth- ing. This enterprise, when it shall be completed in the not very immediate future, perhaps will then have cost some fifteen millions of real money, which will be represented by twenty-five millions of stock of very doubtful value, and by twenty mil- lions of mortgage indebtedness. In other words, one third of its cost upon paper will be represented by real property. * North American Review, April, 1868, pp. 570572. 156 Railroad Inflation. [Jan. The mistaken notion that competition would remedy the evils of railroad monopoly did not, however, stop here. It led Massachusetts into another and the crowning folly. Instead of developing the road which had been built with the public money, the charter of which expressly reserved to the legis- lature all necessary powers in the premises, instead of in- sisting on the simple rights of the public, the State itself was gradually drawn on to sink millions in an attempted competition with its own road from end to end. The new line projected was to be no improvement upon the old one already constructed. It ran between precisely the same ter- mini, and was no shorter, while its curves were much sharper. It opened no new connections; it developed no new traffic; it did not run through a rich country; and it did run into a mountain. While France and Italy combined hesitated long about a tunnel which was indispensable to the existence of a single thoroughfare across the Alps, the little common- wealth of Massachusetts, with one thoroughfare to the West, created by herself, already in existence, and two more far ad- vanced towards completion, blunders headlong into the task of piercing the Green Mountains with a tunnel second only, in all the world, to that of Mt. Cenis. Communities, like individuals, must buy their own experience, and the Hoosac tunnel will form no small item in the account of Massachusetts; but such is the final absurdity into which a total misconception of the principles of economical transporta- tion has forced an intelligent people. The Hoosac tunnel and the connecting links of the northern line to Albany will probably cost the people of Massachusetts some ~20,000,000 of real mon- ey, represented by their own bonds. The result is a simple sum in addition and subtraction. The best possible lines to Albany and to Ogdensburg should not have cost more than $ 85,000,000, if paid for in real money, a fair remuneration upon which would have been some $3,000,000 per annum. The lines which have been wholly or partially constructed, leaving the question of their thorough development untouched, must in- volve an actual outlay of more than $80,000,000, which will be represented by over one hundred and twenty millions of stock and bonded indebtedness, upon which some six millions in divi 1869.] Railroad Inflation. 157 dend~ and interegt will annually be paidi~ Happily, a portion of the amount never has received and never will receive either dividends or interest, and bankruptcy will unquestionably re- lieve the East of a portion of this burden. From twenty-five to forty millions of paper trash will undoubtedly cease to exist, leaving about ninety millions charged to the account. Neither the New York Central, the Pennsylvania, nor the Baltimore and Ohio represents a construction and equipment cost exceed- ing $ 36,000,000. The conclusion seems startling, and yet it cannot well be avoided, that, allowing $ 35,000,000 for the construction of through, and $15,000,000 for subsidiary lines, the lack of an intelligent system and an ill-considered faith in manufactured competition have saddled the trade of the East with a wholly unnecessary debt, which it cannot shake off, larger than the entire sum expended in the construction and equipment of any one of those thoroughly developed trunk lines. This is not all, however. The last evil of competition in railroads is yet in store. Roads must not only be constructed, they must be operated. The remuneration of capital in this case will bear but a small proportion to the expense of oper- ating. The whole represents the total cost of transportation. In Massachusetts the net earnings are thirty per cent of the gross. Under the system of competition, four roads, with all their costly machinery and corps of officials, must be sustained by Boston, while one each satisfies Baltimore and Philadelphia; and the four, it will be found, will never do that work for which under another system two would have been ample. So far as through business is concerned, much less than half of the money judiciously applied might have been made to do the work much more than twice as well. This result, at least, is fully demonstrated by the experience of other communities. Securities rep Real Cost. Stock. Debt, resenting value. * Boston and Albany, .~ f 817,500,000 $18,000,000 $ 5,800,000 $ 23,800,000 Boston,IThrtford,andErie ~ 15,000,000 25,000,000 20,000,000 20,000,000 S Troy and Greoufield, 17,500,000 17,500,000 17,500,000 Boston to Ogdeusburg, 30,000,000 21,000,000 10,000,000 25,000,000 $ 80,000,000 $ 64,000,000 $ 53,300,000 $ 86,300,000 158 Railroad Inflation. How could these difficulties have been avoided? How can they be remedied? It is very easy to find fault with the past; but little service is rendered, unless a remedy is pointed out for the future. At the first glance it seems as though these difficulties arose from a natural and irrepressible antagonism between the interests of the community and those of the corpo- ration. It is of course the interest of the community to obtain from its railroads the greatest amount of service at the least possible remuneration. It is no less clearly the interest of the corporation to exact from the community the largest possible returns for the service rendered and the capital involved. How can these conflicting interests be made to accord? To limit dividends by law only aggravates the evil, in the expe- rience both of England and America. If the limitation cannot be evaded by a disastrous course of stock-watering, then the whole incentive which desire of gain lends to the spirit of the enterprise is lost upon the corporation. It is one alternative or the other, but the dilemma cannot be avoided. To limit profits, and not to limit issues of stock, leads only to stock inflation to limit profits, and at the same time to prohibit the issue of stock, puts a stop to development. Whether corporations have souls or not, they are very subject to those fears and hopes which influence the action of individuals. They will expand and develop prodigiously, if they see their interest in so doing. They fear hostile legislation, and will either seek to avert it or will avoid that which threatens to bring it upon them; they will not labor any more than the average of mor- tality from an abstract love of the general good. If the law limits their utmost earnings to a given amount, and they cannot evade the law, they will do no more labor than is necessary to earn that amount. If the law can be evaded by the issue of stock dividends, then they will labor to divide stock; if the law also prohibits stock dividends, and can be evaded in no other way, then the development of business will probably stop at the point where the legal dividend is earned. Railroad cor- porations are simply human, and the influences of gain and of self-preservation affect them as they affect all men. When legislators realize this, those laws will disappear from the statute-book which seek to compel them to do a full days work for half a days wages. 1869.] Railroad Inflation. 159 So apparent has the conflict of interests which results from crnde or mistaken legislation become, that many have con- cluded that the difficulty admits of but one solution. They advocate the purchase of the roads by the community, and the extinction of the principle of corporate life, with a view to op- erating them, mediately or immediately, by the government for the public. Such a system has already long been devel- oped in Belginm, and, to a limited degree, in France. There ap- pears to be one objection to it in America, and that one, unfor- tunately, if valid at all, is conclusive: it would seem to be impracticable. Every people has its own individual charac- ter, and a government adapted to it. Spain loves the mater- nal government, after the fashion of a spoiled child; France loves the paternal government of the iron hand; England loves self-government and the development of the individu- al; and America has inherited this characteristic of England. Government snpervision among Anglo-Saxons is apt to de- generate into jobbery. In America, partienlarly, the whole instinct of the people leads them to circumscribe rather than to enlarge the province of government. This policy is found- ed in wisdom. Government by the people is apt at all times to degenerate into government by the politicians and the cau- cus; and the people, if wise, will keep the province of the gov- eminent within reasonable limits. The spoils of victory are large enough already; and few thoughtful men can doubt as to what would be the result, if political victory carried with it a power and patronage such as hitherto have not been dreamed of even in the imaginings of the most corrupt of the Tammany ring. The Tammany ring is bad, very bad, in its kind; the Erie ring is bad, and very bad, in its kind: as yet, however, they are not the same. Imagine the Erie and Tammany rings rolled into one and turned loose on the field of politics, and the result of State ownership of railroads will be realized. This plan, therefore, may apparently be dismissed from considi~ra- tion. It might operate well elsewhere: it is doubtful if it will ever do for America, until America ceases to be free. There is but one other way of attaining the desired result, a way never yet tried in America, though common enough in Europe. It may best be described as a contract system, based 160 Railroad Inflation. [Jan. upon the principle of corporate life. Under this system, at stated intervals of time, the community, through its representa- tives, and the corporations controlling its railway lines meet as equal contracting parties. The community grants or confirms to the corporation an exclusive right of transportation between two given points, during a stated period of time. The exist- ence of a monopoly within certain defined limits is recognized and guarantied. In return for this valuable franchise, the corporation must bind itself fairly and satisfactorily to accom- modate every demand of travel or traffic between the limits and during the time specified, in accordance with a certain tariff of fares and freights, which is made a portion of the char- ter. The only remaining principle follows as a corollary of the others: it is, that the corporations, while acting under the conditions of their charters, shall be at liberty to divide all the profits they can possibly earn, without any limitation by law, and free from all fear of hostile legislation. The amount of capital stock must be limited, fares and freights must be fixed, and dividends must be free. These principles are in- separable. A policy such as that described is based upon various correct principles. In the first place, things are recognized as being what they really are. I{ailroads are recognized as monopo- lies, and regulated as such. Again, all railroads are not alike. They are constructed for different kinds of business, with dif- ferent machinery and at varying cost. One road is for local and slow travel, and another is for through and rapid travel; one is a passenger line, and another a freight line; the business of one is steady and unvarying, that of another fluctuates with every season and every month; the cost of construction and operation are never the same. All these elements of economy need to be regarded, and could be, under the system suggested. At present, in America no distinctions are recognized, but in the view of the law railways are everywhere and always the same thing, enjoying one with another the same privileges and sub- ject to the same restrictions. Finally, under the system of special contracts, the laws limiting dividends would be done away with, and what the railways earned, that they would be free to enjoy. The principle would be recognized that profit is Railroad Inflation. 161 a great incentive to energy, and where charges cannot be ex- ceeded, increased profits can flow only from increased devel- opment. The profits of the roads being thus all divisible and being earned on a fixed tariff, it at once becomes their control- ling interest to encourage in the community the greatest possi- ble volume of business, to keep the capital stock at the lowest possible amount, and to declare the largest possible dividends. It only remains to consider how such a system a system manifestly in the interest of all parties concerned may be matured and brought into effective operation. It can be done but in one way. The community must be competently repre- sented, as well as the corporation. Hitherto the railroad man- agers have had it all their own way. They have corrupted legislatures, made laws, evaded contracts, cheated the people, and, not unfrequently, themselves also. Their policy has ever been seemingly grounded on the idea .that their interests and those of the community were naturally at variance. They al- ways have opposed, and they do now oppose, and with general success, too, every effort to reduce their system to some intel- ligible principles. The questions are simple ones of statistics and experience, not difficult of solution, if approached in a spirit of patient study. Yet the very mention of competence and intelligence, applied to the study of their relations to the public, seems to fill the corporations with vague visions of terror. Nor is this feeling confined to the rings. They of course are opposed to any system which might serve to guard a cheated community against their adroit manipulations, or, at least, to expose them. Chaos like the present is their ele- ment, and legislatures are their most favorable fields of action. The power of the rings alone a power which within a year has paid a bribe of $150,000 to a single member of the New York Assembly is probably sufficient to defeat any effort at reform. But they are not alone in their efforts. With theni in the struggle against light upon this subject are combined those whom they rob, the honest bona fide holders of rail- road property. All parties to this strange combination unite in an unceasing prayer to be let alone,to be allowed in their own way to increase the debt and taxation of the community to suit themselves. Yet how is their desire gratified? How VOL. CvIn.No. 222. 11 162 Railroad Inflation. [Jan. are they let alone? Year after year they are dragged into the halls of legislatures and the rooms of committees, and made to fight ever-recurring battles, the conflicts of one year only leading to those of another, until in pure self-defence they re- duce corruption to a science, and buy the peace which is not given them. What is the result? Correct information is al- most never imparted, and there is no one with authority to exact it; the public is defrauded, and there is no one to protect it; corruption constantly increases, and there is no one to ex- pose it. Figures, in the skilful hands of railroad officials, seem made, like language in the mouth of a diplomat, not to express truth, but to conceal it. One who has puzzled over these prob- lems long and patiently writes, in language not too strong: The reports of the companies are not always to be had, and, even when obtainable, are so ingeniously devised to deceive, that only severe labor enables one to discover where the leger- demain is accomplished. The system is bad enough, but its administration is a perfect pest-house of corruption; the dis- honesty is almost incredible, and is practised without need or profit, frequently from mere habit. There is but one way out of this trouble. The one thing needful to its settlement is knowledge. Soon or late the com- munity has got to meet and understand this matter. Before that time comes, the corporations may have succeeded in pil- ing up yet other millions of unnecessary capital, and levying other millions of annual tax to pay the interest upon it; but when the day comes, the community will procure its knowl- edge in one way, and one way only. Robert Stephenson, years ago in England, saw things with a clearer eye than is vouch- safed as yet to our directors of railroads. He, of all men the one best representing the railway interest, in the full light of his great experience, saw that it was ignorance in the law- makers, and not knowledge, that the corporations had most to fear. Ignorant legislation was then in England, as it now is here, at the root of the railway question. In the year 1856 Stephenson was elected President of the Civil Engineers. In his inaugural address he said: What we ask is knowledge.. Give us, we say, a tribunal competent to form a sound opinion. Commit to that tribunal, with any restrictions you think neces- sary, the whole of the questions appertaining to our system. Railroad Inflation. 163 Let it protect private interQsts apart from railways; . delegate to it the power of enforcing such regulations and restrictions as may be thought needful to secure the rights of private persons or of the public; devolve on it the duty of consolidating the railway laws, and of making such amend- ments therein as the public interests and the property now depending on the system may require; give it full delegatory power over us in any way you please. All we ask is, that it shall be a tribunal which is impartial, and that is thoroughly informed; and if impartiality and intelligei~ce are secured, we do not fear the result. This is even more applicable to America now than it was to England then. It was aimed at Parliamentary meddling. But in England there is at least but one Parliament, in which are always to be found in the committee-rooms many men of extensive information and great experience. There is always a tradition, at least, of what has been arrived at through the labor of other years. In America even this does not exist. In this statute-ridden country two score of State legislatures each bungle their own work in their own way, while Congress sets an example of confusion to all. Knowledge cannot possi- bly creep into the legislature, because no one remains in the legislature long enough to learn. Committees shift with every year, and are constructed with an eye to current events; mean- while the lobby is permanent, and the corporation is ever alert to defeat any scheme which may throw light on its operations. Knowledge, then, being the great desideratum in this matter, and the legislatures having wholly failed either to give evidence of possessing it themselves or of being able to impart it to others, it only remains for the community to pro- vide other machinery through which the information so neces- sary may be procured. Bureaus, or boards of commissioners, having charge of questions in relation to railways, should be established, both State and national. Already some steps have been taken in this direction. At the last session of Congress, the question of the right of that body to legislate concerning railroads passing from one State into another was referred to a committee, and was favorably reported upon. The conclusion of the report in question contained the strongest possible argu- ment as to the necessity of the creation of a bureau or commis 164 Railroad Inflation. [Jan. sion to deal with this subject. The committee had been in- structed to prepare an elaborate bill regulating the relations of the railroads and the public. They reported in favor of such a bill, and then wisely confessed their own utter inability to frame it. The statistics, the comparison of systems, the practical experience, and the opinions of experts, were all de- clared wanting. They recommended a full and careful inves- tigation of the whole subject, and then went home to look after their own re-election. The most important material interests of the American people are deserving of better care than an honest confession of ignorance. A special commissioner in- structs us better as to our revenue, even though Congress rarely follows his advice; and Congress could do nothing bet- ter or wiser, during its present session, than to establish a bureau of the Department of the Interior, under the charge of a commissioner, who should devote his attention solely to ques- tions of transportation. There at last some reliable statistics could be collected, and these problems could be studied out and reduced to well-considered legislation. Thence Congress and the country might be educated. We might then hope to know how large a tax is annually levied on business under the head of transportation, and how large a portion of it is applied to the payment of dividends and interest on paper capital; we might then hope to know how much our railroad system has cost, and by what securities that cost is represented; it might then some day become difficult to deluge the market with forged certificates of stock, and call the so doing a financial irregu- larity ; it might even become questionable whether a rail- road potentate had the right to double the nominal cost of a public thoroughfare without adding one dollar to its value; there might then be some agency whose absolute duty it should be to stand between the community and the perpetration of frauds innumerable; and, finally, the time might then come when the community and its corporations would labor in uni- son and with harmonized interests, when the heaviest tax the public might be called upon to pay would be levied in the least onerous manner, and when stock-watering and railroad finan- ciering would be remembered as curious traditions of an im- perfect past. CHARLES F. ADAMS, Jn. 1869.] Karl Otto von Bismarck-Sch~nhausen. 165 Any. VII. 1. Urisere Zeit. Alte und Nene Folge. ]3rock- hans. Leipzig. 2. The Prussian lllioniteur, 1862 1868. 3. Q//lciai Reports of the Debates of the Prussian Landtag, North- German Reichstag, and Customs-Parliament. 4. Q//icial History of the Campaigns of 1866. By the Staff of the Prussian Army. Berlin. 1867. 5. Austrias Struggles in 1866. Official Account. By the Staff of the Austrian Armies. Vienna. 1866. THE family from which Karl Otto von Bismarck-Schiinhau- sen comes belongs to the oldest noble stock in the province of Brandenburg, the corner-stone of the Prussian monarchy, and its origin is traced back to the earliest periods of German history. Several of its members rendered distinguished ser- vices to the Prussian state at different times. Two sat succes- sively for many years in the cabinet of Frederick the Great. A shoot of this venerable ancestral tree, this man, destined to play so prominent a part in i~odern history, grew up among a class that in Prussia perhaps more than in any other European country clings with tenacity to mediwval notions of society and state. Antiquated dogmas of the divine origin of monarchical power, the providential subordination of all other elements in the body social and politic to the aristocracy of blood, the sa- credness of hereditary privileges, together with a most ardent devotion to the reigning dynasty, constitute the political creed of this class, to which it adheres with blind and stubborn zeal to this day. These doctrines of Prussian High Toryism were instilled into the mind of Herr von Bismarck from his very childhood, and took the firmest root. Of a fervid tempera- ment, he embraced them with such earnestness, that, notwith- standing his great native intelligence, he failed to perceive their true character even after his judgment had been ripened by years. As we shall see, they furnished the main impulse to the first part of his public career. Herr von Bismarck was either devoid of ambition and was unconscious of his talents in his younger days, or he was too ambitious and too conscious of his capacity to submit to the

1869.] Karl Otto von Bismarck-Sch~nhausen. 165 Any. VII. 1. Urisere Zeit. Alte und Nene Folge. ]3rock- hans. Leipzig. 2. The Prussian lllioniteur, 1862 1868. 3. Q//lciai Reports of the Debates of the Prussian Landtag, North- German Reichstag, and Customs-Parliament. 4. Q//icial History of the Campaigns of 1866. By the Staff of the Prussian Army. Berlin. 1867. 5. Austrias Struggles in 1866. Official Account. By the Staff of the Austrian Armies. Vienna. 1866. THE family from which Karl Otto von Bismarck-Schiinhau- sen comes belongs to the oldest noble stock in the province of Brandenburg, the corner-stone of the Prussian monarchy, and its origin is traced back to the earliest periods of German history. Several of its members rendered distinguished ser- vices to the Prussian state at different times. Two sat succes- sively for many years in the cabinet of Frederick the Great. A shoot of this venerable ancestral tree, this man, destined to play so prominent a part in i~odern history, grew up among a class that in Prussia perhaps more than in any other European country clings with tenacity to mediwval notions of society and state. Antiquated dogmas of the divine origin of monarchical power, the providential subordination of all other elements in the body social and politic to the aristocracy of blood, the sa- credness of hereditary privileges, together with a most ardent devotion to the reigning dynasty, constitute the political creed of this class, to which it adheres with blind and stubborn zeal to this day. These doctrines of Prussian High Toryism were instilled into the mind of Herr von Bismarck from his very childhood, and took the firmest root. Of a fervid tempera- ment, he embraced them with such earnestness, that, notwith- standing his great native intelligence, he failed to perceive their true character even after his judgment had been ripened by years. As we shall see, they furnished the main impulse to the first part of his public career. Herr von Bismarck was either devoid of ambition and was unconscious of his talents in his younger days, or he was too ambitious and too conscious of his capacity to submit to the 166 Karl Otto von Bismarck-Sch6nhausen. [Jan. slow promotion incident to the civil service of Prussia. At any rate, after finishing his studies at the universities of G~5t- tingen, Berlin, and Greifswalde, and passing by no means brilliantly, it is said the final examination prescribed for all aspirants for an administrative or judicial career, he retired to the modest estates of his family in Prussian Saxony; and spent several years in all but absolute obscurity, devoting himself industriously to their management. The only public duties he performed in that period were the humble ones of supervisor of the public dikes of his district. In time, how- ever, his natural abilities and zealous profession of feudal theories of government attracted the attention of his social equals, and they chose him as one of the representatives of the equestrian order in the Estates of their province. In this capacity he served for some years, but, owing to the almost purely administrative character and narrow territorial scope of the functions of that body, his labors in it gave him only a local reputation. His first appearance upon a broader stage was in 1847, when he had already entered upon his thirty-fourth year. Up to that time Prussia had been little better than an abso- lute monarchy. The solemn promise of a constitutional gov- ernment, made in 1815 by Frederick William III., had not been kept either by himself or his successor. But in 1847, the latter, Frederick William IV., having sagacity enough to understand the meaning of the popular restlessness then mani- fest all over Europe, determined to break the force of the revo- lutionary storm, the coming of which he foresaw, by making some concessions to his subjects. Accordingly he convoked the Estates of the kingdom, composed of class representatives of the three social orders, the nobility and gentry, the in- habitants of cities and towns, and the peasantry, into a com- mon deliberative body, for the purpose of revising the organic laws of the state, so as to give to the tax-payers some limited voice in the regulation of the receipts and expenditures of the government, and to remove some of the feudal features of the existing laws. Herr von Bismarck appeared in the United Estates of the IRealm as a representative of the equestrian order of his province, and soon made himself felt in the mem 167 1869.11 Karl Otto von BismarcIc-Sch(Ynhtausefl. orable session of that body. The expectation of his noble constituents that he would be one of the boldest champions of their political faith was realized to the fullest extent. He be- came at once the leader of the party of ultra-conservatives, and advocated their views, whenever occasion offered, with an en- thusiasm bordering on fanaticism. The concessions proposed by the government were but a very small measure of popular rights, and would have established but the semblance of a con- stitutional monarchy. Insignificant, however, as they were, Bismarck opposed each and all of them with passionate big- otry. Once, when in the course of debate reference was made to the unfulfilled promises of the predecessor of the reigning monarch, he maintained that the great rising of 1813, which had delivered Germany from French usurpation and saved the Prussian throne, had not given the Prussian people any claim to constitutional rule, a declaration that outraged both his- torical truth and a sacred popular tradition. Nor did he lose any opportunity of proclaiming the doctrine that the Prussian monarchs were in possession of absolute sovereignty solely by the grace of God, and not by that of the people. During the discussion of a bill intended to place the Jews, who until then had enjoyed almost no civil rights in Prussia, on an equal footing with the Christians in certain respects, he seemed to take pains to prove, that, besides being imbued with the most reactionary political views, he was also brimful of religious intolerance. He said, that, while he was proud of belonging to a political and religious school which was commonly consid- ered as reflecting the darkness of the medi~val period, he was prouder still of having imbibed anti-Jewish prejudices with his mothers milk. An amendment to the same law permitting Jews to hold civil office he opposed most vehemently, on the ground that he should feel shocked and outraged to see a Jew represent the sacred majesty of the king. Thus Herr von Bismarek made his d~but in public life as the preux chevalier of the Prussian Tories. The course of the party he led but hastened the coming of a revolutionary crisis, and its conservatism, like that which upheld slavery in the United States, was of the destructive kind. In trying to hinder all political progress, it only fostered the existing germs 168 Karl Otto von Bismarcic- Sc/i dultausen. [Jan. of revolution. Within a few months a revolutionary tide surged high against most of the Continental thrones. Berlin, no less than Paris, Vienna, Munich, and other capitals, became the scene of street battles. The reforms which king and no- bility had refused to grant were now exacted by the exasperated people over barricades. The Tory champion was appalled, but not cowed, by the determined and triumphant assertion of pop- ular rights. Pugnacity, equally with enthusiasm, is one of his characteristic qualities. No sooner had the party of reaction recovered from its first fright than Bismarck eagerly lent a helping hand to its efforts to overthrow the democratic cause. He looked upon the rising in arms against royalty as an un- pardonable crime, and was in the habit of saying in those days that all great cities ought to be wiped from the face of the earth, as the parents of most of the modern revolutions. The events of 1848 and 1849 made no impression upon his stolid conservatism, and only rendered his antagonism to popular rights more bitter and unbending. Elected a member of the lower house of the legislative body, arbitrarily constituted by royal decree after the dissolution at the point of the bayonet of the National Assembly of 1848, he was not slow in showing that lie had learned nothing. As before, he became a leader of the ultra-reactionists, and at- tacked with the spirit of a crusader progress in every form. He opposed the granting of a political amnesty by the king. He advocated the continuance of the iron rule of martial law in Berlin. He denounced the leaders of the democratic move- ments as rebels. The national parliament, still sitting at Frankfort-on-the-Main, he styled a lawless body. He disput- ed the soundness of the fundamental principle of all consti- tutional government, the right of the legislative representa- tives of the people to regulate taxation. He urged the preser.. vation, and even the extension, of the hereditary prerogatives of the nobility. He spoke against freeing the mechanical trades from the fetters of the old guild system. He expressed hor- ror of the tendency to reduce the autocratic sovereignty, built up in Prussia by Frederick the Great, to the insignificance of the royal power in Great Britain. Holding all modifications of the old status to be mischievous, he in the session of 1850 of Karl Otto von Bismarcic- Scit dnhausen. 169 the same body opposed even the bills submitted by the ultra- reactionary ministry then in power. Thus, he pronounced himself against a limitation of the manorial jurisdiction of the lauded nobility, on the ground that such a measure would rekindle the spirit of revolution. His recommendations were often so utterly at variance with ordinary prudence, that his own party more frequently rejected than adopted them. That there was not much of the stuff of a liberal reformer in Herr von Bismarek at this stage of his career requires no further demonstration. But besides being a virulent adversary of all social and po- litical progress, he was likewise hostile to the unification of Germany, and the aggrandizement of Prussia at the expense of Austria, the very ends to the accomplishment of which he owes all his later reputation. Realizing that popular liberty would inevitably follow national unity, he strove as firmly against the one as the other, both in the Prussian Chamber of Deputies in 1849 and in the national rump parliament, of the latter of which his party elected him a member, during its brief lease of life in 1850 at Erfurt. In the former he attacked again and acain the national constitution elaborated at Frankfort in 1848 and 1849. His great objection to it was, that it had a tendency to destroy what he called specific Prussianism. Prussians we are, he said, and Prussians we mean to re- main. I know that these words express the sentiment not only of the Prnssian army, but of the majority of the Prussian people. I will add, that I trust in God we shall be Prussians long after that sheet of paper [the national constitution] shall be no more thought of than a withered leaf. The national rising of 1848, in support of the efforts of the Duchies of Schleswig-Holstein to cast off Danish rule, was denounced, as encouraging a revolution against a lawful sovereign, by the very man who fourteen years later went to war with IDen- mark in their behalf. At Erfurt he maintained that the co- operation of Prnssia with Austria in strangling liberalism throughout Germany was necessary and justifiable. Again, he, whose principal argument in 1866 in jnstification of the violent severance of the federal ties between Austria and the rest of Germany was the essentially non-German character of 170 Karl Otto von Bismarck-ScJt~in7iausen. [Jan. that power, then scouted the idea that the Hapsburg dominions were not an integral part of Germany. I cannot acknowl- edge, said he, that, becanse Slaves and iRuthenians are ruled by Austria, these elements represent the national character of that state, and that the German race is simply a subordinate component part of it. I recognize in Austria the representa- tive of an ancient German power that has often and gloriously wielded the German sword. Herr von Bismarck, although not always a model of discre- tion, had yet proved too valuable an auxiliary in the repression of revolutionary tendencies not to be signally rewarded by the conservative ministry after the triumph of reaction was fully as- sured. His errors had been errors of judgment, never of will. Hence it was not strange that he should receive a distin- guished reward in the spring of 1851, in the form of an appoint- ment to high office. But it was a little singular, that, by being made a Privy Councillor of Legation and First Secretary of the Prussian Embassy to the Federal Diet, this Hotspur should be employed in a branch of the public service in which sound discretion is more indispensable than in any other. Yet the result proved that the favor of the ministry was not unwor- thily bestowed. He eagerly accepted the appointment, for it opened the way to a rapid and brilliant career. In less than three months he found himself raised to the rank of Ambassa- dor to the Diet. Thus Herr von Bismarcks parliamentary career was brought to an abrupt close, or rather was interrupted for many years. During its course he had shown the merit of rigid consistency and fearlessness, and considerable notice was the natural result of the very extravagance of his views. But within the legisla- tive arena it was something more than the character of his opinions and his hardihood in expressing them that made him a noted character. His individuality was strongly marked in many ways. He was ueither a fluent nor a graceful speaker; but he possessed much originality of thought and piquancy of expression, unusual felicity of illustration, clearness and pre- cision of statement, considerable dialectic power, a certain ingenuousness, real or assumed, and no small stock of ro- bust wit, qualities which never failed to gain him the ear 1869.] Karl Otto von Bisinarclc-Schynliausen. 1171 of his audience. Yet he offended more than he pleased: for even then he displayed the self-sufficiency and indulged in the didactic arrogance and repulsive brusqueness of speech for which he has since become notorious. Outside of the parlia- mentary sphere, he found sympathy and applause only with the party of which he was the mouthpiece. To the great body of intelligent, liberal-minded people in Germany his political professions were so utterly repugnant that even the respect nsually accorded to sincerity was refused to him. But he incurred not so much hatred as contempt, and more ridicule than denunciation, for his conservative extravagancies. The public knew well enough that there was not the least danger of a realization of his media3val ideal of government. He was the butt of the wits of Berlin, and a standing figure in the Kiad- deradats ch, the Prussian Punch. The favor of the ministry was sufficient to raise Herr von Bismarck to the highest diplomatic rank after an apprentice- ship of only three months. But it could not, by appointing him ambassador, transform him at once into a finished diplo- matist. He had a great deal to learn in his new profession, and the school he entered was by no means an easy one. If it had been the special intent of his patrons to disgust him with his new calling in the shortest time, they could have assigned him to no better field than the Federal Diet. Conservative though he was, he was none the less full of individual vigor and enterprise, and longed for action and distinction. An impulsive, energetic nature like his was entirely out of place in the stagnant atmosphere of the Diet. That cumbersome, unwieldy assembly, after its resuscitation in 1850, through the efforts of Austria and her satellites, moved with its wonted slowness in the old pedantic rut. His patience was put to the sorest test. Still, with that talent for adaptation which helped him over so many difficulties in his subsequent career, he soon accommodated himself to the circumstances surround- ing him, and made the most of his position. His task was any- thing but easy. Austria and the minor states could not for- get that in 184849 the imperial crown of Germany had been within the grasp of Prussia. Not content with their great tri- umph at Olmiitz, they continued to treat her as a still danger- 172 Karl Otto von Bismarcic- Schdnliausen. [Jan. ous foe, whose every move had to be watched and thwarted. Periodical encounters with- these adversaries formed the main incidents of the official experience of Herr von Bismarck dur- ing the seven years he remained at Frankfort. In his new post he threw off at once, but perhaps more from a sense of duty than from conviction, whatever sympathies lie bad for Austria, and served the Prussian interest with the utmost devotion. His duties were varied and comprehensive enough to make him by degrees an adept in his new calling. He had hardly assumed his official functions when he was required to deal with the important subject of the reconstruction of the customs-union. This was undertaken by Prussia in 1851, with a view to en- larging the territorial extent of that economic institution, and throngh it of her own political influence in Germany, and, after two years of diplomatic manomvring, was carried, in spite of the desperate opposition of Austria. To this auspicious result Bismarek contributed not a little. Next the Crimean War, in its reaction on German affairs, afforded him another opportu-. nity for rendering valuable services. Besides these, the affair of Nenfch~tel, the chronic Schleswig-Holstein imbroglio, and various minor matters, occupied his attention. His colleagues were not slow in discovering that in point of natural abilities he had no superior among them, and that he mastered their profession with astonishing quickness. Jeal- ousy of the power he represented was transferred to the per- son of the representative. His disregard of stiff fornis and hollow conventionalities, freedom of official intercourse, frank- ness in telling unpleasaiit truths, no less than the conscious- ness of superiority which he often showed, and the imperious tone he assumed at times, could not fail to make him more enemies than friends at the Diet. The unfriendly character of his relations with Count Rechberg, the Austrian ambas- sador, especially, was matter of notoriety, and many anecdotes illustrating it were in circulation at the time. The experience of Bismarek at. Frankfort had a decisive bearing upon his future career. It opened his eyes completely to the historical antagonism between the dynastic interests of Prussia and Austria. From year to year he saw more and more clearly that they were irreconcilable, and that they must 1869.] Karl Otto von Bismarcic- Sch6u7~ausen. 1~~3 necessarily lead, sooner or later, to a conflict, upon the issue of which the permanent preponderance of one of them in Ger- many would depend. As this opinion became more firmly set- tled in his mind, his conviction also became clear that the decision of the rivalry in favor of Prussia could be made the stepping-stone to lasting fame. Daring and ambitious, he resolved to make the accomplishment of this the great aim of his life. In 1862, documcuts, the authenticity of which has never been questioned, were published in several German peri- odicals, which went to show, that, in accordance with this reso- lution, he had, as early as 1856, elaborated a plan for remodel- ling the map of Central Europe. He put it in the form of a memorial, which he submitted, soon after the conclusion of the Peace of Paris, to king Frederick William IV., and a little later to Count Walewski, then French Minister of Foreign Affairs. It recommended the formation of a close alliance between France, Russia, and Prussia, for mutual territorial aggrandizement. Russia was to be extended to the Vistula; France to annex Belgium, and certain parts of Germany on the left bank of the Rhine; Prussia was to be permitted to organ- ize a new German federation under her own leadership, with a view to the eventual absorption of the minor states. But the project was not favorably received, either at Berlin or Paris. It was, in fact, chimerical, and proved less the wisdom of its author than an earnestness of purpose, a boldness of conception, and, above all, a readiness to employ any means for the accomplish- ment of ends he considered legitimate, traits of character which were developed more fully in the subsequent phases of his public life. Although Bismarck was thoroughly cured at Frankfort of his former veneration for Austria and the existing federal or- ganization of Germany, his political views were not modified in any other respect. His mind remained impervious to the truth that the people as well as the sovereign possesses rights. All liberal ideas continued to be as repugnant to him as ever. An autocratic monarchy was still to him the most perfect form of government. He was still ready to go as far as he who went farthest in the persecution and suppression of all liberal tendencies. The tide of reaction during the last 174 Karl Otto von Bismarck-Schiinkausen. [Jan. part of his stay at Frankfort rose too high for him. His stolid conservatism was one of the reasons of his removal early in 1859 to the more congenial political atmosphere of St. Petersburg, when, consequent upon the accession of Prince William of Prussia to the regency in 1858, a more liberal era seemed to be dawning upon Prussia and Germany at large. Another motive for his transfer to the Russian capital was his too pronounced sympathy with France and Italy in the differences of those powers with Austria, differences which re- sulted in the war of 1859. His leaning towards the adver- saries of Austria was owing, not to any partiality for the na- tional cause of the Italians, but to the antipathy he had con- ceived for the traditional rival of Prussia. But besides this, he had another ground of sympathy with the enemies of the House of Hapsburg. Strange as it may seem, he, the firm believer in the divine origin of monarchical authority, the ar- dent defender of hereditary rights, the mortal foe of all rev- olutionary outgrowths, cherished a profound admiration for the man, or rather for the political system of the man, who claims to sit on the imperial throne of France by the will of the people. The achievement of autocratic ends by democratic means, the substitution of material prosperity for political liberty, the ab- solute supremacy in the state of one will, the subjection of all the functions of the body politic to the inspiration of one mind, the merciless destruction of all that stands in the way of this result, all these features, which constitute the glory of the Second Empire, were captivating to ILJerr von l3ismarcks imagination. Nor did he confine himself to mere admiration of the enlightened despotism of the second Napoleon. As the sequel proved, he became a close imitator of his crafty prototype. His removal from Frankfort did not put an end to the pursuit of his great scheme for raising Prussia to larger territorial ex- tension and political consequence. On the contrary, as ambas- sador to the IRussian court he prosecuted it with even increased ardor. He not only interested Prince Gortschakoff in it, but, impressed with the belief that the war between Austria and the Franco-Italian allies offered Prussia a grand opportunity for securing a permanent preponderance in Germany, he made Karl Otto von Bismarck-Sch~Ynhausen. 175 another attempt to win over his government to his project of 1856, in a modified form. On the 12th of May, 1859, he addressed a confidential communication to the Prussian Minis- ter of Foreign Affairs, in which he fully disclosed the thoughts then uppermost in his mind. In this exposition, which was brought to light after sleeping for seven years on the shelves of the Berlin Foreign Office, he expressed the conviction, as the result of his eight years observations at Frankfort, that the bonds attaching Prussia to the federation fettered her in times of peace and fatally weighed upon her in times of war. This evil, he maintained, Prussia would be obliged, sooner or later, to remedy igni et ferro; and he held that just such critical pe- nods as the existing one offered opportunities for the needed relief. In his eyes the condition of things in Austria, France, and Russia seemed at that moment more favorable for better- ing the position of Prussia in Germany than it had ever been before. Unfortunately for the author, this urgent plea for a violent overthrow of the federal structure was as little heeded as its predecessor of 1856. But Bismarek, though keenly dis- appointed, did not lose courage. He patiently bided his time, which was not long in coming. He remained at St. Petersburg until the spring of 1862, when he was appointed ambassador to the Court of the Tuileries. He was glad to go, and was no less gladly received by Napoleon and his cabinet, who well knew his sympathies with the imperial r6gime. But he was not to enjoy the pleasures of the French capital long. He had not been at his new post more than six months, when he was unexpectedly summoned to take a place among the immediate advisers of his royal master. To make clear the cause of this sudden summons, it is necessary to review the events in Prussia after his departure from Frank- fort. The condition of Prussia when Prince William assumed the regency was such that even a large portion of the conservative party realized the desirableness of a change of rulers as well as of policy. The prestige of the state had been seriously im- paired abroad; and in Germany its influence was far less than that of its rival. Within its own limits, the pitch to which political oppression and spiritual tyranny had been carried dun- 176 Karl Otto von Bismarck-Schynhausen. [Jan. ing the preceding nine years by a servile, bigoted Church, had produced an all but fatal stagnation in public life. But a change for the better, under the rule of the Prince Regent, was hardly expected by the liberal party. The sanguinary record he had made in 1849, in the suppression of the demo- cratic uprising in Southern Germany, justified a fear of the continuance of a reactionary policy. Great and agreeable was, therefore, the surprise of the friends of political progress, when, soon after assuming the reins of governments he took occasion to tell his subjects that he considered it Prussias mission to make moral conquests in Germany, and promised to rule in strict accordance with the constitution and laws. His declarations were received with great popular joy through- out the fatherland, and were universally looked upon as harbin- gers of an era of comparative liberty and advancement towards national unity. But it appeared, after a time, that the hopes raised by the first utterances and acts of the Prince Regent had been unfounded. Events occurred one after another, be- tween the time he took possession of power and his formal accession to the throne upon the death of Frederick William IV., that proved him to be still too much imbued with the tra- ditional autocratic predilections of the Prussian monarchs, and too deferential to the so-called legitimate rights of his fellow- sovereigns, to warrant expectations either of larger popular liberty or of a decided furtherance of the national aspirations under his reign. What was at first but apprehension grew gradually into a settled belief. That his own subjects, as well as the German nation at large, were right in distrustin g Wil- liam I. was soon to be proved by a direct conflict between royal pretensions and the legislative representatives of the Prussian people. King William desired to make Prussia great, but knew no other road to greatness than military power. Himself a most enthusiastic soldier, he considered the army the main pillar of the Prussian monarchy, and the first interest of the state, calling for his particular care. Long before he became ruler he had conceived and elaborated certain projects for the reorganization and enlargement of the military forces of the kingdom, to the realization of which he devoted himself imme Karl Otto von Bismarek- Sch~nhausen. 177 diately after succeeding to the crown. In February, 1860, the project of a law was submitted to the lower house of the Land- tag by the Minister of War, embodying the army reforms con- templated by the king. According to the terms of the bill, the annual levy of recruits was to be increased from forty thousand to sixty-three thousand men, the standing army being thereby nearly doubled, and the length of service on the active and reserve list of the regular forces to be extended from five to seven years; the national guard (Landwehr) was no longer to form part of the army proper in time of war. The cost of carrying out the proposed reorganization was estimated at five millions of thalers, and the permanent increase of the war budget at ten million thalers per annum. The heavy addition proposed by this bill to the military burden already weighing upon the people, without any other compensation than a reduc- tion of the aggregate time of service in the regular force and Landwehr from nineteen to sixteen years, staggered the ma- jority of the house. The committee to which the bill was re- ferred reported against it in due course of time, and the house accepted its conclusions. Thereupon the government with- drew the bill, but subsequently brought in a new one, appro- priating nine millions of thalers for putting and keeping the army on a war footing for one year. On the promise of the government not to use the money so as to prejudice the final action of the legislative power in regard to the proposed re- organization of the army, to which the house was ready to consent, provided certain features of the bill should be modi- fied, the amount was voted. In the session of the following year the house was again persuaded by the same assurance to vote this special appropriation for another fiscal period; but the notorious fact, that, notwithstanding its positive pledge, the government was using the money to carry out the kings scheme of reform, had already created so much distrust that the measure prevailed by only a small majority. A new Landtag was elected and met early in 1862. Owing to the weak foreign policy of the government and its growing illiberality in domestic affairs, the opposition in the house had been reinforced to such an extent as to have become an over- whelming majority. Soon after the opening of the session, a VOL. CVHI.NO. 222. 12 178 Karl Otto von Bisrnarck-& hynhausen. [Jan. resolution was carried by the liberals calling on the Minister of Finance for a more detailed statement of the expenditures of the government than the one he was in the habit of sub- mittin~,. The object was to compel the ministry to a formal avowal of the improper employment of the appropriation for the army. The minister promised to submit a specific budget in future, but refused to exhibit one for the current year. The house, however, insisted upon its demand, and was there- upon dissolved by royal decree. This step on the part of the government ushered in a con- flict that was to become one of the most remarkable struggles between king and commons known to history. The dissolu- tion of the house was a formal declaration of war by the sov- ereign against the legislative power of the realm. The first battle was fought in the elections for a new house, which the government had immediately ordered. Notwithstanding the resumption by the ministry of the old practice of official inter- ference in the canvass, which had been apparently abandoned when William I. ascended the throne, the opposition achieved a complete triumph. Upon the assembling of the new Landtag, the Minister of Finance brought in the specific budget, the de- mand for which had caused the dissolution of the former house. But the fact that the extraordinary appropriation for the War Department was made to appear in it as part of the regular budget disclosed the determination of the government, in vio- lation of its solemn pledge, to treat the reorganization of the army as an accomplished fact. It satisfied the opposition that the ministry had been acting throughout in bad faith, and had insidiously and by false representations obtained the means for carrying out an unlawful pr~ject year after year. The result was, that, September 17, 1862, the whole increased appropria- tion was stricken from the budget by a vote of two hundred and seventy-three to sixty-eight. This was a most emphatic rebuke of the course of the gov- ernment. But the king was resolved not to yield to the house. He was not only loath to abandon a long-cherished project, but believed that to give way to the representatives of the people would be to lower the royal dignity. There were two ways open to him of overcoming the resistance of the 1869.] Karl Otto von Bismarck-Sch& nhausen. 1T9 house, persuasion, and a determined opposition. Hence, when he found himself confronted by the ministerial crisis consequent upon the rejection of the budget, he felt the neces- sity of securing at the head of his ministry a man who had both the ability and the will to employ either method, as occa- sion might require. The talents, boldness, and energy of Herr von Bismarck were no less well known to him than his zealous conservatism and attachment to the royal interest; and the ambassadors name was, moreover, suggested to him by the High Tory leaders who had his ear. The result was, that within tweny-four hours after the vote of the house Bismarck was summoned by telegraph from Paris. He responded so promptly that within forty-eight hours he was able to report himself in person ready to receive the kings commands. Most men, in view of the existing complications between king and commons, would have thought twice before consent- ing to assume the responsibilities of the post of chief adviser to the sovereign. Not so Herr von Bismarck. He accepted without hesitation the portfolio of Minister of Foreign Affairs, to which were joined the functions of Minister President. A mind of his bold stamp would naturally make light of the apparent difficulties of his new position. He disregarded the obstacles before him altogether, in his satisfaction at having now obtained possession of the power he had so long coveted. In the brilliant prospect suddenly opened to him he saw the long-sought opportunity of fulfilling the great task he had as- signed to himself. The impediments that lay between him and his goal were insignificant to his firm will and absolute confidence in himself, and he assumed his new duties and re- sponsibilities without misgiving. At first the new premier seemed to be inclined to make concessions to the overwhelming majority of the house. He withdrew the objectionable appropriation bill, in order, as he asserted, to temper the existing conflict. But the oppo- sition wanted positive guaranties from the new chief of the governjnent. A resolution was offered, not only requiring the government to submit its estimates for the current fiscal year, but condemning the use of any portion of the public funds for any object not sanctioned by the house, as a violation of the 180 Karl Otto von Bismarcic-SciWnijausen. [Jan. constitution. The resolution went to the Committee of Ways and Means, and gave Bismarek the first occasion to display his capacity as a ministerial tactician. With a marvellous combination of flattery and casuistry, of threats and grim humor, he sought to persuade the committee to report against it. Addressing the members with an appearance of frank con- fidence, he told them that the government was most anxious to avoid all further collision; that what had occurred was only a proof of the intelligence and capacity of the Prussian people. He claimed that the various branches of the government had co-ordinate rights in the regulation of the public expenditures, and that the legislative power had no absolute veto upon the royal will. Next he tried to dazzle the committee by a reve- lation of his designs for the aggrandizement of Prussia. As long as we choose to wear heavy armor upon our small body, we must not fail to make good use of it. Germany looks not to the liberalism, but to the military power of Prussia. We must be fully prepared for action at favorable moments. The problems of the times will be solved, not by speeches and resolutions, but by blood and steel. But the committee were neither to be cajoled nor imposed upon. The resolution was reported back with a recommendation that it pass; and the only fruit of his effort was, that from that time forward he became known throughout Germany as the man of blood and steel. During the discussion of the resolution in general session Bismarck again tried his best to prevent its passage. But neither his speeches nor the arts he practised in the lobbies were of any avail. He surprised the members by the affa- bility with which he approached them, and the freedom with which he seemed to confide to some of the leaders of the op- position the secrets of his policy. Such condescension on the part of a minister of the crown was extraordinary; but it did not help him. The resolution passed by a vote of 251 to 36. No sooner was it passed than Herr von Bismarck threw off the mask. A few days later he appeared in the house with a royal message announcing the prorogation of the obstinate as- sembly, and at the same time the determination of the king to insist upon the army reforms, and to carry on the government 1869.] Karl Otto von Bismarck-Sch~nhausen. 181 without a budget. This high-handed proceeding was the sig- nal for a complete rupture between the new ministry and the popular branch of the Landtag; and the whole liberal public now felt that its misgivings on the accession of Bismarck to power had been well grounded. While the liberal members everywhere met popular ovations, and a bitter outcry was raised on all sides against the premier, he, on his part, re- taliated to the utmost extent of his power. He entered upon a crusade against the liberal press. He caused disciplinary proceedings to be commenced against numerous officials who expressed sympathy with the house, and instigated addresses to the king, denouncing the resistance of the house to the royal will, and begging him to persist in his course, with an assur- ance of the support of the people. All this naturally intensi- fied the indignation against him. The Lafidtag was again convened in January, 1863. In the discussion of the customary address to the crown, at the open- ing of the session, the bitterness engendered by the acts of the ministry during the recess became speedily manifest. In spite of the threat of the premier that he would advise the king not to receive it, an address was adopted, in which the govern- ment was accused in direct terms of a flagrant breach of the organic laws of the state. It was certain that the illegal ap- propriations for the War Department, again demanded by the ministry, would be again rejected. Foreseeing this, the gov1 eminent was glad to find a pretext in a dispute between the Minister of War and the presiding officer of the house, in which that officers right to treat members of the ministry like other members of the house was denied, for again proroguing the Landtag, before a final vote upon the budget should be reached. In Prussia the constitutional advisers of the crown do not, as in Great Britain, merely reflect the will of Parliament. Nevertheless it was a bold step on the part of King William to defy the wish of the majority of the house, distinctly ex- pressed in the course of the dispute just mentioned, for a change of his ministry. That he thus deliberately followed in the footsteps of the Stuarts was chiefly due to the com- plete ascendency of his premier over him. But this rapidly acquired sway did not rest solely on the prime-ministers 182 Karl Otto von Bismarclc-Scli6nhausen. [Jan. devoted support of a pet royal scheme. Herr von Bismarck had dazzled the kings eyes by a partial unfolding of his grand design for making Germany Prussian. Moreover, his hold of power was strengthened by his social qualities. Notwith- standing his habitual brusqueness in official intercourse, he was an accomplished courtier, and shone in the salon no less than in the council chamber. His polished manners, spirited conversation, and sharp wit, as well as his fondness for the favorite sports of the king, aided him no little in establishing himself quickly and firmly in the royal favor. The popular instinct did not fail to perceive the strong hold Bismarck had on the king. By degrees he came to be con- sidered the evil spirit of the state. He was by no means unconscious of his unpopularity; the popular indignation against him only steeled his nerves, and he soon satisfied his adversaries that he was determined to win, and would shrink from nothing that served his purpose. Shortly after the prorogation of the Landtag, a royal ordi- nance was promulgated which furnished strong evidence of the purpose of Bismarck to fashion his rule upon the Na- poleonic model. The ordinance instituted the very same sys- tem for muzzling the press that had been followed in France under the Second Empire. Against this decree the press, in defiance of penalties, protested most energetically. Though scores of criminal prosecutions were commenced against lib- eral papers, they failed to intimidate them. Protests and re- moustrances from municipal bodies and the people at large poured into Berlin, and the law faculties of three universities pronounced the ordinance unconstitutional. The heir-appar- ent of the crown not only declared publicly at Dantzic that it was promulgated without his knowledge or approval, but likewise addressed letters both to his royal father and to the Minister President in which he protested against the whole prevailing system as endangering his interests as successor to the throne. His letter to the king and his fathers angry re- ply found their way after a time to the press, and made a pro- found sensation, encouraging the liberal party to continue its struggle for constitutional rights. While this internal feud claimed the largest share of the 1869.] Karl Otto von Bismarck-SchYnhausen. 183 attention of the head of the ministry, external questions of grave import likewise occupied him from the very moment he assumed office. In 1860 King William had positively and in rather offensive terms refused to recognize Victor Emman- uel, the robber-king, as the Prussian Tories called him, as king of Italy. But a few months before Bismarck took charge of the portfolio of foreign affairs, regard for the com- mercial interests of Prussia had induced the king to recon- sider his resolution and reopen diplomatic relations with the House of Savoy. One of the first acts of the new minister was the transmission of a circular despatch to the diplomatic representatives of Prussia, in which he dwelt at length upon the motives of the Berlin cabinet in recognizing the kingdom of Italy. The recognition was not to be taken as an implied approval of the annexation policy of the Italian government, nor as an acknowledgment of its title to the unlawfully an- nexed provinces, but simply as an admission of an accom- plished fact. It was a plea in defence of the Berlin cabinet against the charge of inconsistency which had been raised by Austria, and it was not received with much favor. An edifying homily on the evils of arbitrary government, which the pressure of public opinion compelled Herr von Bis- marck to deliver to the elector of Hesse for persistently tyran- nizing over his subjects, in spite of their resistance and the remonstrances of the Diet, was still less a success. The in- ternal administration of Prussia afforded the elector abundant material for an effective retort. Nor was the premier~ s insin- cerity less patent in his concentration of troops upon the fron- tier, during the rising of 1863 in Poland. It served to prevent the transmission of arms to the insurgents, and to cut them off from receiving assistance from the Prussian Poles, while he professed that the movement was not made in the interest of the Czar, but of a possible increase of Prussian territory, as a result of the insurrection. But by far the most serious external complication that Bismarck had to deal with, during the first year of his ad- ministration of the foreign office, grew out of the old jealousy between Prussia and Austria. In pursuance of the free-trade policy adopted in 1860, France had proposed a commercial 184 Karl Otto von Bismarck-Sch~inhausen. [Jan. treaty to Prussia, the object of which was to stimulate com- mercial intercourse between the two countries by a mutual reduction of duties. Prussia having accepted the proposal, articles had been signed in March, 1862. Austria, moved at once by her animosity towards the author of her humilia- tions in 1859, and by her chronic distrust of Prussia, imme- diately commenced a series of attempts to prevent the exe- cution of the treaty. Some of these efforts were peculiarly exasperating to Prussia, as they were designed to give the impression that Austria was more favorable than herself to federal reform and union. Early in 1863, within a few months after Herr von Bismarck took charge of the Berlin foreign office, all Europe was startled by the announcement that an angry despatch had been ad- dressed by the new premier to the Vienna cabinet, in conse- quence of which the relations between Prussia and Austria had assumed a hostile character. After reminding Austria that in 1859 Prussia had not only taken no advantage of her preca- rious condition, but had even prepared to go to her support, he broadly hinted that under similar circumstances he should not advise the king to pursue a similar course. If Austria refused to go hand in hand with Prussia, she would have to seek another point of gravitation at Pesth. The Austrian gov- ernment would have done well to bear in mind these ominous words. But the domestic troubles and the want of influence abroad of the Prussian government led Austria to make light of the warning, a mistake for which she paid dearly. The ill feeling between the two governments was increased by the refusal of King William to attend a conference of Ger- man princes at Frankfort, called by Austria for the purpose of making such changes in the federal relations of the German states as the times required. The invitation was given by. Francis Joseph in person, at the watering-place of Gastein, and only the urgency of Bismarck caused it to be declined. The reforms proposed by the conference were so superficial, that the great influence now exercised over King William by his premier was hardly needed to lead him to refuse to accept the action of the congress. Everything seemed to tend towards a rupture between the two powers, when within 1869.] Karl Otto von Bismarclc-SclWnhausen. 185 four months the world was surprised to learn that they had come to a cordial understauding, which speedily ripeued into au alliance offensive and defensive. This was brought about through the agency of the very man whose special delight it had seemed to be to cross Austria in every way. The cause of this unexpected revival of friendship was the Schleswig-Holstein question. The statesmen of Europe had vainly exercised their ingenuity for fourteen years in attempts to solve this perplexing problem, when Bismarck came into power; and he found it as far from a solution as ever. In the autumn of 1863 the long-pending quarrel reached a crisis. Denmark having again and again defied the authority of the Diet, in the month of October of that year a resolution ordain- ing federal execution against the recusant pygmy of a kingdom prevailed by a large majority in the Diet upon the joint motion of Prussia and Austria. The surprising convergence of the policies of the two Ger- man powers on this question was due to precisely the same causes as their divergence on every other question. The se- cret of their new harmony lay in the same inveterate jealousy that ever regulated their mutual relations. Herr von Bismarck perceived as clearly as Count IRechberg, who had attained to the same post in Austria that his former colleague and ad- versary at Frankfort held in Prussia, that the stubbornness of Denmark had rendered war inevitable. Germany was ablaze with excitement and sympathy for the Duchies, and with eager- ness for the summary punishment. of Denmark. Each of the premiers was anxious to take the management of the coming conflict into his own hands, and monopolize whatever advan- tages might be gained from such leadership. Each wished to control the action of the other, and hence the offensive and de- fensive alliance. There is nothing on record to show that Count IRechberg had any other aim than to secure for Austria the prestige of leading a popular movement, and to prevent Prussia from turn- ing the contingencies of the war to her own exclusive benefit. But Bismarck had more positive motives, and of larger scope. Ever devoted to his one design of weakening the position of Austria and strengthening that of Prussia in Germany, he re~ 186 Karl Otto von Bismarek- Sch~nkausen. solved to make the complications with Denmark both bear sub- stantial fruits to the dynasty he represented, and serve as an instrument for breaking up the traditional coalition of Austria with the minor states, which formed the basis of her predomi- nance aud the main stay of the Diet, as against the interests of the House of Hoheuzollern. For this double purpose he con- ceived a plan more ingenious than scrupulous, the features of which, even if he had not himself disclosed them a year later before the Prussian parliament, were distinctly revealed by sub- sequent events. To bring about an alienation between Austria and her prince- ly satellites, Bismarcks first step was to persuade the former to accept the London treaty of 1852 as a basis for the solution of the Schleswig-Holstein difficulty. The Diet as such had never recognized this pact. Public opinion in Germany insisted ve- hemently, that, as Denmark had never pretended to acknowl- edge its binding force, the great German powers were released from all obligations under it. To uphold this unpopular treaty was the most ill-advised course the Vienna cabinet could pos- sibly take. Yet Herr von Bismarck had no difficulty in per- suading Count Reehberg to stand with him on that dangerous ground. Whether the Prussian premier bribed the Austrian to this by promises relative to the distribution of the prospec- tive spoils of the war, or whether Austria, in the blindness of her jealousy, followed his lead without such inducement, re- mains an open question to this day. But certain it is that Conut Rechberg fell into the snare, and that from the time of the joint motion at the Diet for armed execution against Denmark Austria followed closely and eagerly in the footsteps of Prussia. The calculations of Bismarck proved correct. The minor states, which for once had yielded to popular opinion, opposed the London treaty, and advocated the claims of the Duke of Augustenburg to the sovereignty of the Duchies. They were speedily arrayed in as distinct hostility to Austria as to Prussia. Though successful in his intrigue, the Prussian premier was not long in finding out that to uphold the Lon- don treaty reacted very unfavorably against him at home, and involved him in another serious difficulty with the Laud- 1869.] Karl Otto von Bismarclc-Schynhausen. 181 tag. The Diet having resolved, in December, 1863, to en- force the federal decrees against Denmark by military execu- tion, and charged Austria, Prussia, Saxony, and Hanover with this duty, it devolved upon Bismarek to appear before the Prussian lower house with a demand for special appropriations for placing part of the army on a war footing. It was in con- nection with this demand that he was made to feel the great unpopularity of his foreign policy. Some months after the last prorogation of the Landtag, in consequence of the affair with the Minister of War before re- lated, the government had determined to dissolve the house and order new elections. In the canvass the admiration of the premier for Louis Napoleons methods of government was once more exemplified by the employment of several of his well- known appliances for obtaining parliamentary support. But reckless as were the efforts of the ministry for the return of a conservative majority, they proved vain. The elections re- sulted in as large a preponderance of the opposition element as before. The new house met in November, 1863, and its first act was to pronounce the premiers press ordinances un- constitutional, and to institute an investigation into the im- proper interference in the elections by government officials acting under the special orders of the ministry. The great struggle, however, between the ministry and the opposition, as has been already hinted, arose upon the policy to be pursued in the Schleswig-Holstehi difficulty. The opposition was in complete sympathy with the Federal Diet in its antago- nism to the execution of the treaty of London, and in its sup- port of the claims of the Duke of Augustenburg to sovereign- ty in the Duchies. When, therefore, the government asked authority to negotiate a loan of twelve millions of thalers for the extraordinary expenditures of the War Department, and declined to abandon its Schleswig-Holstcin policy, the authority was refused by a vote of two hundred and seventy-five to fifty- one, after a debate marked by such bitterness and personalities that the premier challenged one of the leaders of the opposi- tion to a duel. The refusal to authorize the loan was immediately followed by the prorogation of the house. Under the authority of the 188 Karl Otto von Bismarck-SclWnliausen. [Jan. king, certain accumulated savings of the state were unlawfully employed for the extraordinary military expenditures. The Federal Diet was dealt with in a no less high-handed manner, notwithstanding the many popular demonstrations in its favor throughout Germany, and the protests of the minor states. The Diet, in its weakness and its fear of provoking civil war, was obliged to instruct the commanders of the Hanoverian and Saxon contingents, to whom it had intrusted the active execu- tion of the federal decree, to permit the transit of the Prus- sian and Austrian troops through Holstein. The preparations for the invasion of Schleswig having been completed, the Eider was crossed by the forces of the allies February 1, 1864, and in less than three weeks the whole of Schleswig, with the exception of the island of Alsen, was in their possession. So far Bismarck had been successful in the prosecution of his plot. Austria was now fully estranged from the govern- ments of the minor states, and had forfeited the popular sym- pathy which her reform movements during the two preceding years had created for her. Partly by his pretence of uphold- ing the London treaty, and partly from the fact of having Austria at his back, he had kept the other great powers from interfering in behalf of Denmark. He had secured in addi- tion a fast hold upon the best part of his intended prey. Yet he was still far from complete success. The risk of provoking the active intervention of foreign governments remained. The Saxon and Hanoverian contingents, as the instruments of the Diet, had as yet a firm foothold in Holstein and Lauenburg. The smaller states were no more pliant to his wishes than be- fore, still zealously supporting the claims of the Duke of Au- gustenbnrg. Moreover, it was by no means certain that Austria would follow his lead as readily in the future as in the past. But Bismareks astuteness was equal to the emergency. He continued to conciliate the great powers by assurances that the integrity of the Danish monarchy would be respected, and that his government was opposed to the agitation in favor of the incorporation of the Duchies with Prussia, which was never- theless secretly instigated by him both in and out of the king- dom. He thus kept them in a passive attitude, until the oh- 1869.] Karl Otto von Bismarck-Sch& ~n7iausen. 189 stinacy of the Copenhagen cabinet at the London Conference in April, 1864, caused them to abandon their proteg~. With his German adversaries he had a harder task, and even found himself obliged to give way to them. He not only failed to induce the Diet to permit the occupation of the prin- cipal towns of Holstein by Prussian troops, but was constrained to adopt the demand of that body for the constitution of the Duchies as an independent state under the Duke of Augusten- burg. Into this concession he was forced by the urgency of his ally, who, frightened by the growing agitation for the an- nexation of the Duchies in various Prussian quarters, took up the policy of the Diet. The two powers declared jointly at the London Conference that the Duke of Augustenburg had in the opinion of all Germany the strongest claim to the suc- cession to the sovereignty of the Duchies; that he was sure of being recognized by the Diet; and that he was, moreover, the choice of the great majority of the people of the three provinces.~~ This involuntary concession would have resulted in a mis- carriage of Bismareks plottings, but for the failure of the Conference, in consequence of the stubbornness of Denmark. He not only escaped this peril, but was rewarded for his timely yielding by the consent of Austria to a vigorous prosecution of the war, in which she had hesitated to join after the expulsion of the Danes from the mainland of Schleswig. Hostilities were reopened by the allied troops with so much vigor that the king of Denmark was compelled to accept the treaty of Vienna, signed October 30, 1864, by which he assigned all his claims to the Duchies to the monarchs of Prussia and Austria. No sooner had the treaty been signed than Bismarck pro- ceeded to revenge himself upon the Diet for its opposition to his policy in the Duchies by requiring the withdrawal of the Saxon and Hanoverian troops from Holstein. To make his contemptuous treatment of that body the more pointed, he addressed his demand directly to the courts of Saxony and Hanover. These evinced sufficient spirit to refer the demand to the Diet; but the combined pressure of Prussia and Austria made resistance futile, and the troops were recalled, leaving the allies in undisputed possession of the three Duchies. 190 Karl Otto von Bismarck- SchUnliausen. [Jan. Bismarcks longing to annex the conquered territory to the dominions of the Hoheuzollern had now matured into a fixed purpose. But there were two serious obstacles to its realiza- tion, the claims of the Duke of Augustenburg, and the title of Austria, as good as that of Prussia, to a share of the com- mon prey. Both difficulties were formidable, but insufficient to awe Herr von Bismarck into an abandonment of his pro- jects. An occasion for the active prosecution of his annexation scheme soon appeared. Bavaria, Saxony, and Wurtemberg presented resolutions at Frankfort to the effect that the Diet alone had authority to determine the future political relations of the Duchies, and came within two votes of carrying them. Bismarck lost no time in informing the cabinets of the three kingdoms that he considered their motion as aimed at the sov- ereign independence of Prussia and transcending the federal authority, and that Prussia would not consider herself bound by it, if it prevailed. At the same time he addressed a de- spatch to the Vienna cabinet, to the effect that Prussia would not commit herself as to the future of the Duchies, and that the proposition to constitute them an independent state under the Duke of Augustenburg was inadmissible, as prejudicial to the undecided claims of others, and among them that of the Prussian monarch himself. He even went so far as to add the startling suggestion, that the annexation of the Duchies to Prussia would prove not only advantageous to the whole of Germany, but harmless to Austria. It required no little assurance to pronounce the claims of Duke Frederick inad- missible, when not many months had elapsed since the same authority distinctly indorsed those claims. Count Mensdorff-Pouilly, who bad succeeded Count IRech- berg as Anstrian Minister of Foreign Affairs, saw the weak points of the Prussian note, and exposed them in a spirited reply. He said that Austria had undertaken the solution of the Schleswig-Holstein imbroglio solely in the general interest of Germany, and would remain true to her original motive; that, if Prussia had claims to the snccession, they should have been put forth before, and not after, the joint declaration at London; and that, as Austrian blood had not been shed for the aggran 1869.] Karl Otto von Bisrnarck-SclWnkausen. 191 dizemeut of one German power at the expense of the other, Austria could not consent to an incorporation of the iDuchies with Prussia without corresponding territorial compensation. The immediate effect of this rebuff was a radical change in the relations of the two powers. The humiliating conclusion was forced upon the Austrian government, that it had been all along but a tool in the hands of an unscrupulous intriguer, who, having accomplished his purposes, was now ready to cast his ally off. It saw, that, instead of foiling, as it had hoped, the ambitious schemes of its rival, it had only promoted them. Thenceforth it nsed its best endeavors to conciliate the minor states and unite with them in a common policy. The revelation of Bismareks plan of annexation led to the most imposing demonstrations on the part of the people of the Puchies of their preference for an autonomous government under the Puke of Augustenburg. The larger portion of the nobility, the clergy, the officials of the civil service, the whole business community, and the people at large, expressed them- selves in the most decided manner against the Prussian policy. This reluctance to submit to Prussian rule was mainly due to the illiberal domestic policy so persistently pursued by the Bisumarek ministry. Had Bismarck been willing to abandon his anti-constitutional practices in Prussia, he would have en- countered no such universal hostility in the Duchies. The strong anti-Prussian demonstrations in the IDuchies led Il3ismnarck to proceed to his goal by a less direct course. On the 21st of February, 1865, in a despatch addressed to the Vienna cabinet, he offered to agree to the union of the IDuchies as an independent state under the rule of Duke Frederick, but on conditions which would have made the new state the merest vassal of Prussia. The proposal was rejected by Count Mensdorff, who objected to each and every one of the conditions, as contrary to the letter and spirit of the existing federal pact. Encouraged by the growing discord between Berlin and Vi- enna, the minor states now renewed their efforts to baffle the designs of their Prussian adversary. In the month of March, Bavaria, Saxony, and the Grand Duchy of ilesse proposed to the Diet to summon Austria and Prussia to surrender the govern- 192 Karl Otto von Bismarck-Sch6nliausen. ment of Holstein to Duke Frederick. During the discussion of the motion, Herr von Savigny, the Prussian ambassador, under the special instructions of Bismarek, made the decisive declaration, that his government considered the claims of Duke Frederick not only as not established, but as incapable of es- tablishment, and that the Prussian recognition of the claims of the Duke at the London Conference had been but a tempo- rary expedient. Austria, however, supported the motion, and it prevailed. No sooner was it adopted than Savigny filed a protest, denying the right of the Diet to pass upon the future relations of the Duchies, and declaring that Prussia would pay no regard to the resolution. A reaction in public opinion concerning the question of the Duchies had already arisen in Prussia. The successes obtained by the Prussian troops in the war against Denmark had flattered the military pride of the people. A feeling arose, shared alike by the supporters of the ministry and a consid- erable portion of the opposition, that Prussia was entitled to a substantial compensation for her sacrifices of blood and treasure. The belief was general that national unity could be accomplished only by the same surrender of their sovereign rights, on the part of the several autonomous states, which Herr von Bismarck proposed to exact from the Duke of Au- gustenburg. Had the head of the government then put the cause of national unity in advance of the interests of royalty, as he did a year later, it would have been easy for him to revolutionize public opinion in his favor. As it was, Bismarck was emboldened to pursue a more ag- gressive policy, and as early as the spring of 1865 it looked as if he meant to provoke a collision with Austria. Without any previous notification to the Vienna government, it was announced on the 3d of April that the king of Prussia had directed the removal of the station of the royal navy from Dantzic to the port of Kid in Holstein. Austria protested, and ordered two men-of-war to that port, to protect her rights of joint dominion; but Prussia persisted, and carried out her purpose. To prevent its accomplishment by force would have involved the risk of war, for which the Vienna cabinet was as yet unprepared. Shortly after this incident, 1869.] Karl Otto von Bisrnarck-Sclflinliausen. 193 Bismarck made pretence that the exercise of the sovereign functions by Duke Frederick in Holstein, with the countenance of Austria, imperilled Prussian interests, and demanded his ex- pulsion. In consequence of this demand, which was refused by the Vienna cabinet, and the vigorous measures taken by the Prussian government to repress popular agitation in the Duchies in behalf of the Duke, the friction between the two powers steadily increased during the spring and summer of 1865; and it was plain that Bismarck was even then willing to push matters to a crisis. But King William was not yet prepared to adopt his pre- miers policy. His disinclination to draw the sword, and the equally peaceful disposition of the Austrian emperor, averted the danger for the time, and gave rise to a compromise in the form of the treaty of Gastein, concluded August 14th by Count Bismarck and Count Blome, and subsequently ratified at a meeting of the two monarchs at Salzburg. By its terms the duchies of Schleswig and Holstein were to be separately administered by Prussia and Austria, and the latter power, in consideration of two and one half millions of thalers, ceded all her claims to Lauenburg to the former. In recognition of his success in bringing about this arrangement, Herr von Bis- marck was soon after raised to the hereditary dignity of a count of the realm. The new treaty was another great gain for Prussia, and an- other grievous blunder on the part of Austria. While the for- mer strengthened her hold upon the Duchies, the latter not only failed to secure the permanent maintenance of peace, but, in abandoning, as she virtually did, the cause of the Duke, lost also the best means of thwarting the designs of Prussia, and opened anew a gulf between herself and the minor states. Al- though Austria now proceeded to carry out her part of the Gastein convention with a most confiding disregard of her own interests, and consented to join Prussia in checking all attempts at Frankfort, in the Duchies, and in the Diet, to protest against the treaty and reach a different solution of the problem, her fidelity to her engagements was of no avail. Count Bismarck looked upon the Gastein arrangement simply as another step towards the great end he had kept steadily in view; and so VOL. cvIII.NO. 222. 13 194 Karl Otto von Bismarek- Sch~hzhausen. [Jan. far from being satisfied with having obtained a firm grasp upon two of the Duchies, he was resolved not to stop until the third had been added to his spoils. In pursnance of the treaty of Gastein, the two contracting powers had each appointed a military officer of high rank to act as governor of Schleswig and Holstein respectively. The Austrian governor, Baron Gablenz, did not repress the popular demonstrations in Holstein against the policy of the allies with the same violence as the Prussian governor, General von Man- teuffel, in Schleswig. His milder sway was taken advantage of by Count Bismarck, who, under date of January 20, 1866, gave the cabinet of Vienna to understand that the character of the Austrian administration of Holstein could not fail to disturb the amicable relations between the two powers. A few days later an event took place which furnished him with a better pretext for bringing about a rupture. On the 23d of January a meeting was called of the sympathizers with the people of the Dnchies throughout Germany at Altona in Holstein. It was at first interdicted by Baron Gablenz, but was subsequently permitted to take place upon the assurance of the leaders that no formal resolutions should be voted by the assemblage. The authorization of this meeting, one of the most imposing popu- lar gatherings ever held in Germany, was immediately seized upon by Count Bismarck as a pretext for the despatch of his famous note of January 28th to Vienna, in which he took the ground, that, in not opposing more energetically the popular demonstrations in Holstein, Austria was pursuing an aggres- sive course, which, by fostering revolutionary practices, endan- gered the rights of Prussia. Throughout this document he assumed the tone of injured innocence, lamenting that his strong faith, born of the days of Gastein and Salzburg, in the perfect accord of the policy of the two governments with re- gard to their common enemy, Revolution, had now proved a delusion. The charge against Austria of sympathizing with revolutionists nobody believed less than its author. But had he not instilled this false belief into the mind of the king, he would never have been permitted to demand peremptorily, at the conclusion of the note, that Austria should thereafter ab- stain from further encouragement of revolutionary practices, 1869.] Karl Otto von Bismarck-Sch~n1tausen. 195 a demand which he justified by assuming, that, under the treaty of Gastein, Prussia still had a co-ordinate right of con- trol over the administration of Holstein, and to announce, that, unless the Vienna cabinet complied, Prussia would con- sider herself at liberty to act as her interests required. Count Mensdorff, in his reply, denied in very dignified language that Prussia possessed any right of control over the administration of Holstein, and repelled the clarge of revolutionary proclivi- ties, but at the same time assured the kings government that Austria would strictly adhere to the treaty of Gastein. Matters had now reached such a pass that the Prussian pre- mier found himself called upon to decide definitively whether to push the existing complications to the extremity of war or to moderate his policy and seek a peaceful solution. He reso- intely chose the former course, a determination which rcquired no little courage. He could, it was true, rely on the neutrality of the other great powers. From Napoleon, at an interview at Biarritz a short time before, he had received, as subsequent developments clearly proved, the promise of French neutrality, (how obtained has never become fully known,) in case Prussia came to blows with Austria. England was entirely indisposed to intervene actively in a quarrel in which she had not the least practical interest. Russia remembered too well the ungrateful return made by Austria in 1854, and again in 1862, for her pow- erful aid in 1849, to render it at all probable that she would side against Prussia. Yet these were but negative advantages, and in all other directions the prospect was unpromising. His first obstacle was the great reluctance of the king to go to war with an essentially German state, to whose monarch he was attached by ties of relationship and personal regard. In the second place, while he had nothing to fear from foreign inter- ference, he had at the same time no foreign ally. Again, in Germany, the minor states formed an all but solid front against him. The popular hostility to the treaty of Gastein was so great that the sympathy excited for his policy by his propo- sition of February had disappeared. Moreover, the conflict between the crown and the legislative power continued to be a source of weakness to him, for the gap between the two branches of government was rather widened than narrowed in 196 Karl Otto von Bismarck- SclWnhausen. [Jan. 1865. Having met again in January of that year, the house had been more than ever provoked by a decision of the su- preme court, pronouncing, in contravention of the constitution, a prominent member of the opposition liable to criminal prose- cution for words spoken in debate; and the ministry persisting in its former attitude concerning the budget, the liberal ma- jority again refused to vote it, whereupon the house was once more prorogued in June. It met again, in no better temper, a few days before Count Bismarck addressed to Austria his January despatches, and it was certain that it would refuse to vote money for a war of the premiers making. But the premiers wealth of expedients proved once more equal to all these difficulties. As he had obtained the kings approbation of his previous aggressions by frightening him with the spectre of revolution, so he now overcame his reluc- tance to an offensive war by persuading him that Austria was bent upon provoking a collision, and that simple self-pres- ervation required Prussia to anticipate the blow. For the next step, the securing of an ally, the way was already paved by the conclusion, in 1865, of a commercial treaty with the new kingdom of Italy, the acceptance of which by the customs-union he had secured in spite of the remonstrances of Austria aiid the scruples of a number of the smaller states. This treaty, aside from its economical bearing, had been of great political importance to Italy, as it involved the recognition, by all the contracting states, of the new order of things established in the peninsula in 1859 and 1860; and now the eagerness of the Italian rulers to complete the work of national unification, by delivering Venetia from the Austrian yoke, made them ready listeners to the first intimations of the desire of the Berlin cabinet for an offensive and defensive alliance, which were conveyed to them likewise, it may be safely presumed, by the imperial keeper of Count Bismarcks secrets at Biarritz. Of the third obstacle to his designs, the tenacious opposition of the legislative majority, he rid himself by boldly resorting, in the latter part of February, to a dissolution of the house, after a session of only four weeks. To counteract the effect of this hazardous measure, and stir up popular prejudices against Aus- tria, lie now made use of the very instr~iment of agitation, the Karl Otto von Bismarck-Sck~nhausen. iTt press, for which he had all along professed the most sovereign contempt. The columns of the official and semi-official organs of the ministry at Berlin were filled with allusions to projects of federal reform said to be contemplated by the ministry, and with more or less open attacks on Austria. Lastly, the pre- mier made sure of the sinews of war by obtaining the royal consent to a resort to the large reserve fund which the Prus- sian government had been accumulating ever since the days of the first Frederick, now amounting to upwards of thirty mil- lions of thalers, and to a sale of certain railways belonging to the state. The sums thus secured were more than enough to begin a war, and Bismarck knew the martial temper of the Prussian people too well to doubt for a moment, that, the war once begun, he could safely count on procuring all the money which might be needed to bring it to a successful con- clusion. While Count Bismarck was thus preparing for a crisis, Aus- tria exerted herself to foil his schemes by countenancing more and more the popular movement for the autonomy of the Duchies. The danger seemed to the Berlin government so serious that on the 11th of March a royal ordinance was pro- mulgated by the governor of Schleswig, by which all agitation, direct and indirect, for the Duke of Augustenburg was consti- tuted a criminal offence in both Duchies, punishable with im- prisonment for five to ten years. This brutal decree produced the most intense indignation in and out of the Duchies. The Vienna government regarded it as a direct violation of its rights under the treaty of Gastein, and within five days after its promulgation Count Mensdorff sent a secret circular to all the smaller states, announcing that the Vienna cabinet, in view of the Prussian ordinance, was under the necessity of demanding peremptorily at Berlin whether or not the kings government really contemplated the overthrow of that treaty. Should the answer be unsatisfactory, the imperial government would refer the question of the Duchies for ultimate decision to the Diet, and call the attention of that body, in view of the threaten- ing attitude of Prussia, to the ninth article of the federal pact, requiring the protection by the Diet of one member of the federation from the aggressions of another. 198 Karl Otto von Bisrnarck-Schynhausen. [Jan. To the Austrian ambassador at Berlin Count Bismarek de- nied all intention of violating the treaty, but refused to enter into auy explanations. it so happened that it was in his power to make a telling retort; for though Prussia had already taken some initiatory steps towards placing her army on a war-foot- ing, it was a more incontrovertible fact that the Vienna gov- ernment had gone farther than its adversary in preparing for war. The studied sullen silence which Count Bismarck had preserved during a whole month had had the desired effect of inspiring Austria with fear of a surprise, and of leading her to take what were deemed indispensable precautions by a limited concentration of troops along the northern frontier of the empire. Considering the well-known greater efficiency of the Prussian military system, which rendered it possible to marshal the forces of King William in their full strength in one third of the time required to assemble those of Francis Joseph, the Vienna cabinet was justified in being on its guard. But~ its action at the time furnished the Prussian premier, who well understood the moral advantage of placing Austria in the light of an aggressor, with an effective argument, of which he made speedy use. On the 24th of March, he addressed, in his turn, a confidential circular to the courts of the minor states, in which he raised the charge of hostile designs against Austria, and in support of it, instead of confining himself to vague assertions, as Count Mensdorff had doim, he enumer- ated in detail the warlike steps which he said the Vienna government had already taken. Assuming his charge to be thereby proved, he informed the several states that the para- mount duty of self-defence rendered it incumbent upon Prussia to make counter preparations, and accordingly he desired to know to what extent Prussia could rely on their active assist- ance, in case Austria proceeded to an aggressive war. At the same time he shrewdly represented the existing complications as another illustration of the utter insufficiency of the old federal structure, and intimated an intention of making some definite propositions for remodelling it at no distant day. That he was very much in earnest the minor states were forced to believe by the promulgation of royal orders, under date of March 28th and 29th, summoning a large portion of 1869.] Karl Otto vom Bismarek- Schynltausen. 199 the furloughed Prussian soldiery to their colors. Neverthe- less, there remained to the small potentates sufficient courage simply to refer Count Bismarck to article ninth of the federal pact, as affording an ample remedy for all his grievances. Meanwhile, Count Mensdorff, although not among the recip- ients of the Prussian circular, had deemed it his duty to take coonizance of it, in order to deny the warlike purposes therein attributed to his government. This he did in very emphatic and unequivocal terms, through the imperial ambassador at Berlin, who was instructed to declare to Count Bismarek, in the name of the Emperor, that nothing was farther from the thoughts of his Apostolic Majesty than an aggressive policy towards Prussia, that, on the contrary, he was firmly re- solved upon a strict observance of the provision of the federal constitution which forbade the members of the federation to settle difficulties among themselves by force. Coupled with the note was a special request to submit it to King William. It was, no doubt, at the instance of the latter that Count Bis- marck replied in a rather conciliatory tone. While defending his own course by again referring to the Austrian armaments, he, on behalf of his royal master, responded to the personal assurances of the Emperor, to the effect that nothing was more remote from the Kings mind than an offensive war. Nothing has ever placed in doubt the perfect sincerity of Austria in these assurances. But the same cannot be said of Count Bismareks reply; for on the very day on which he made known to the Anstrian ambassador the Kings answer to the Emperors message, he signed a treaty for an offensive and defensive alliance with Italy. In signing this treaty he was guilty both of a piece of double-dealing towards Austria, and of a direct breach of the still subsisting federal obligations of Prussia, which strictly prohibited her from entering into a coa- lition with a foreign state against any member of the federa- tion. Italy, however, agreed to nothing dishonorable on her part. Though eager to accept the proffered aid for wresting Venetia from the clutches of her oppressors, she did not wish, even for this end, to ally herself unreservedly to a despotic government, and hence engaged to co-operate with Prussia against Austria only on condition that the principle of national 200 Karl Otto vo~z Bismarclc-& lWnlsausen. unity for which she contended should be inscribed on the ban- ners of her ally, and that liberal internal reforms should be inaugurated in Germany through Prussian agency. This is fully established by the tenor of the instructions of General Govone, who negotiated the treaty, in which distinct reference is made to the promise of Prussia to convoke a national Ger- man parliament. Thus Germany appears to be in no small degree indebted to Italy for whatever aid the cause of unity and liberty within her borders received through the war of 1866. Yet it would be unjust to impute to Count Bismarck any hesitation to agree to the Italian conditions. Although still unfriendly to the progress of liberalism, he was too clear- sighted not to perceive the immense moral force that might be derived from the introduction of popular elements into the coming struggle. In return for the promise of Venetia, Italy engaged to assist Prussia with all her military resources in bringing about the severance of all political connections be- tween Austria and the rest of Germany. Count Bismarck hastened to make good his word. Within twenty-four hours after the signing of the treaty, the Prussian ambassador to the Diet offered a motion for the convocation of a national representative assembly, to be elected by uni- versal suffrage, whose business it should be to deliberate upon propositions for the reconstruction of the federation to be sub- mitted by the Diet. Accompanying the motion was a lengthy exposition of the motives of the Berlin government for this step, which was a masterpiece of diplomatic writing. After proving the necessity for federal reforms, not so much from reasons of his own as by quotations from Austrian declarations to the Diet in former years, and tracing the failure of all pre- vious projects to their want of thoroughness, he adduced his reply to the Austrian proposition of 186~ to show that he had been early in favor of giving the people a voice in the recon- struction of the fatherland. With characteristic boldness he then proceeded to demonstrate that universal suffrage was the only sure remedy for the prevailing evils; but, lest the ultra- conservatives of the Diet should be appalled at this sudden profession of extreme democratic views, he softened its effect by alleging that his government had had the less hesitation in Karl Otto von Bismarcic- Sch~n7iausen. 201 recommending the adoption of the proposed remedy, inasmuch as it firmly believed it would lead to the preservation rather than the destruction of monarchical institutions, a conclu- sion for which he was obviously indebted to observation of the working of universal suffrage in France. The Prussian circular of March 24th had prepared the mem- bers of the Diet for some such movement on the part of Count Bismarek, but they did not dream of being invited to accept so radical a proposition; nor did they stand alone in their aston- ishment. All Europe was amazed at this sudden display of democratic leaning on the part of one whose whole record had been that of a bitter enemy of popular rights in general, and of parliamentary institutions in particular. Nobody believed the conversion genuine. The proposition was universally con- sidered a mere strategic move for a temporary purpose, like the recognition of the claims of the Duke of Augustenburg. Even in Germany the opinion prevailed at first that it was a mere bid for popular sympathy, and the liberal party were in no haste to welcome it. Austria and the minor states, on the other hand, took time to act upon Prussias motion, and weeks elapsed before anything was done about it in the Diet. Meantime there was a most lively exchange of diplomatic missives between Berlin and Vienna. Count Mensdorff, who was as yet unaware of the Prussian arrangement with Italy, annonneed that the Emperor, in order to give an unequivocal assnrance of his anxiety for the maintenance of peace, had or- dered his ambassador at Berlin to lay before the Kings govern- inent a detailed official statement of all the military preparations so far made in the empire. He also expressed the hope that King William would now substantiate his pacific professions by countermanding the orders issued in the latter part of March to mobilize a portion of the army. To this Count Bismarck replied, that, as Austria had first armed, it was her part to lead in disarming. Count Mensdorff promptly declared that his government was ready to order all the troops on the north- ern frontier back to their former stations, provided Prussia positively engaged to do the same. The Prussian premier could safely agree to disarm in the measure of the Austrian disarmaments, for he well knew that Austria would find it im 202 Karl Otto von Bismarck-ScIi~ynhausen. practicable fully to carry out her part of the agreement, for the simple reason that she had now more than one foe to deal with. Within a short time the attitude of Italy had become so mena- cing, that the Vienna cabinet was suddenly confronted by the alternative of either modifying its offer to disarm or of being taken unprepared by an attack from the South. Hence, at the last moment, Count Mensdorff was obliged to notify the Berlin government, that, while Austria was ready to fulfil her agree- ment north of the Alps, the situation in Italy precluded her re- turn to a peace footing in Venetia. This was just what Count Bismarck had calculated upon. In his reply, after coolly deny- ing the notorious fact of the Italian armaments, he made known the determination of his government not to disarm, unless Aus- tria did the same in every part of her dominions. This was the last of the mutual propositions to disarm. Hardly had Count Bismarck steered clear of this obstruction to his schemes, when another arose, on which he and his plans alike barely escaped shipwreck. From the moment of the promulgation of his project for a national parliament, he had become an object of suspicion to his old political friends. They were seized with apprehensions that he had suddenly been con- verted to the obnoxious principles which they had so long com- bated under his leadership. Their distrust quickly passed into outright hostility, and they began to prejudice the King against his premier. The Vienna cabinet, in connection with its last effort to bring about a mutual disarmament, having offered to obtain for Prussia the cession of certain strategic points in the Duchies, provided she would consent to their autonomy under Duke Frederick, the Tories strove to make this a means of driving the premier from power. They per- suaded the King to direct the Count, who was opposed to tak- ing any notice of the Austrian proposition, to reply in courteous terms, regretting the inability of Prussia to accept the proposed compromise, but reaffirming the willingness of Prussia to abide by the treaties of Vienna and Gastein, and offering to treat on liberal terms for the cession of Austrias claims to the Duchies. Had Francis Joseph listened to this offer, Count Bismarck would have been obliged to tender his resignation; but Austria would not entertain King Williams proposal. 1869.] Karl Otto vo,~ Bismarek-SciWnijausen. 203 Besides these proceedings with Austria during April and the early part of May, Count Bismarck had some sharp passages with the Diet and the governments of the minor states. The majority of the former, although afraid to reject his project of a national parliament, were anxious to make all possible delay, and had done nothing at the end of a fortnight beyond refer- ring the project to a special committee, and adopting a motion calling on Prussia to state in detail what functions she pro- posed for the new parliament. To this call Count Bismarck flatly refused to respond, unless the Diet previously fixed a day for the convocation of the parliament, and this on the not very flattering ground, that, without such direct pledge, lie should have no faith in the intentions of the Diet to take his proposition into serious consideration. Next, Saxony, which, following the example of Austria, had placed her little army on a war footing, was given to understand, that, unless satisfactory explanations were received, Prussia would find herself obliged, in view of the strategic position of the former, to take proper military precautions to insure her safety in that quarter. But Baron Beust, the head of the Saxon cabinet, and an inveterate opponent of Prussia and partisan of Austria, whose political des- tinies he was six months later called upon to fashion, insisted upon the right of Saxony, under existing circumstances, to pre- pare for her defence, and announced his determination to submit the case to the Diet, to which Prussia should have made her complaint. This strong position Count Bismarck adroitly tried to turn by contending that Prussia was the threatened party, and had a right to expect from the Diet that it would compel Saxony and Austria to disarm. He added, that, should the cen- tral federal power fall short of its duty in the premises, Prussia would not hesitate to provide for her own security. A motion in the Diet, by Bavaria, Wurtemberg, Hesse, and other states, to request all members of the federation that had made preparations for war to return to a peace footing, proved equally futile. Then followed a final attempt by the great powers, mainly at the instance of the British government, to bring about an amicable arrangement. Their invitation to Prussia, Italy, and Austria to meet them in conference at Paris was readily ac 204 Karl Otto von Bisrnarck-Sch~n1zausen. [Jan. cepted by the two first-named states. Count Bismarek was too crafty not to perceive that his seeming eagerness to accept mediation would do much to relieve him from the charge of deliberate provocation of Austria, and that there was not the least probability that anything would come of the conference. lie was fully aware, that, as England and France favored the cession of Venetia to Italy, the majority of the conference was sure to recommend it to Austria, a mode of settlement to which that proud power would never consent. What he had foreseen occurred. Austria made the exclusion of the Venetian question a conditio sine qua non of her participation in the con- ference, and, in view of the now recognized fact of the Prusso- Italian alliance, having no longer faith in the efficacy of any efforts to preserve peace, at once resolved upon a line of con- duct that would secure to her, in the event of war, both the active aid of the smaller states and the sympathy of the Ger- man people. On the 1st of June the Austrian ambassador announced to the Diet, that his government, wholly despairing of an arrange- ment with Prussia concerning Schleswig-Holstein, in pursu- ance of the intention announced in its despatch of April 27th, now formally referred the controversy to the central federal authority, and would, moreover, convoke the Estates of Hol- stein at an early day, in order to give the people of the Duch- ies a voice in the determination of their destiny. This move gave Count Bismarck what he had been anxiously awaiting, a plausible cas~is be lii. Two days later, he made an emphatic protest against the convocation of the Holstein Estates, as a flagrant violation of existing treaties. To prove this, the Prussian Moniteur of the following day published for the first time the terms of a secret convention, concluded between the two powers when they formed their alliance against Denmark, by which each of the contracting parties pledged itself not to take any step affecting the future relations of the Duchies, without the consent of the other. Nor did he content him- self with a simple protest. As though determined to cut off all remaining possibility of a peaceful settlement, he, in the famous circular despatch of June 4th, made a fierce attack upon the Vienna cabinet. The records of diplomacy show no 1869.] Karl Otto von Bismarc1c-Sch~ynhausen. 205 paper more offensive than this, either in form or substance. The main charge, that the government of Austria had tried to make war inevitable in order to obtain an excuse for the certain bankrnptcy of the empire, was without the slightest foundation in fact. The effect of this manifesto throughout Europe was to con- firm the general conviction of the utter unscrupulousness of its author, and of his determination to bring on war at all hazards. Bnt Count Bismarck did not confine himself to diplomatic weapons. On the 5th of June, the Vienna cabinet, through the military governor of Holstein, issued a decree convoking the Estates of that Duchy. As soon as intelligence of this reached Berlin, instructions were telegraphed to the military governor of Schleswig to march his troops forthwith into Holstein, and re-establish the statns anterior to the treaty of Gastein, which, according to the Prussian construction, the action of the Austrian government had abrogated. On the 7th the Prussian columns crossed the Holstein frontier. The Austrian forces, being too weak to resist, and having orders from Vienna to retreat, fell back before them. In a few days the whole of the Duchy was in the hands of the invaders, and their commander, in obedience to his instrnctions, proceeded at once to wipe out all traces of Austrian rule by removing all officials acting under its authority. Simultaneously he extin- guished all agitation in favor of Duke Frederick, by dissolving all political societies and suppressing all anti-Prussian news- papers. The forcible occupation of Holstein was virtual war; but a fortnight elapsed before the actual clash of arms. Count Bis- marck made use of this interval to turn as far as possible the cnrrent of public opinion to the side of Prussia by urgiug on projects of federal reform. The committee of the Diet, having this matter in charge, with incomprehensible blindness failed to see, that, the more the Diet resisted, the more its adversary could and would demand. It was the stubbornness of this in- fatuated body that enabled him to carry what he cared much more for than concessions in the interest of the people, the exclusion of Austria from the reconstructed federation. But before he could make this final move, his Tory enemies pre~ 206 Karl Otto vo~ Bismarck-Sch~nhausen. [Jan. vailed on the King to send a special envoy to the Emperor with a last proposition for a compromise. The refusal of the Emperor to entertain it having been telegraphed to Berlin, the King at once consented to the transmission of a circular de- spatch to the governments of all the minor states, in which the decisive blow was struck. This document was an amplifi- cation of the several features of the project already laid be- fore the IDiet, with some vital amendments. One of these provided for the exclusion of all Austria, German and non- German, from the proposed new federation; another, for the election of a national legislature by universal suffrage in the manner fixed in the federal constitution of 1849, the same which the Count sixteen years before had delighted to flout; and a third, for the division of the military forces of the re- constructed federation into a northern and southern army, with the kings of Prussia and Bavaria as commanders. No man comprehended better than Count Bismarck that only by force of arms could Austria be made to resign her his- torical position as a German power, and that his propo