One great difficulty in our volunteer force pertains to the institution

of a proper subordination. Coming from the same vicinage, often related

by the various interests of life, equals at home, officers and men have

found it disagreeable to assume the proper relations of their military

life. The difficulty has produced two extremes of conduct on the part of

officers--either too much laxity and familiarity, or the entire

opposite--too great severity. The one breeds contempt among the men, and

the other hatred. After the soldier begins to understand the necessities

of military life, he sees that his officers should be men of dignity and

reliability. He does not respect them unless they preserve a line of

conduct corresponding to their superior military position. On the other

hand, if he sees that they are inflated by their temporary command, and

employ the opportunity to make their authority needlessly felt, and to

exercise petty tyranny, he entertains feelings of revenge toward them. A

model officer for the volunteer service is one who, quietly assuming the

authority incident to his position, makes his men feel that he exercises

it only for their own good. Such an officer enters thoroughly into all

the details of his command--sees that his men are properly fed, clothed,

and sheltered--that they understand their drill, and understand also

that its object is to render them more effective and at the same time

more secure in the hour of conflict--is careful and pains-taking, and at

the same time, in the hour of danger, shares with his men all their

exposures. Such an officer will always have a good command. We think

there has been a tendency to error in one point of the discipline of the

volunteer forces, by transferring to them the system which applied well

enough to the regulars. In the latter, by long discipline, each man

knows his duty, and if he commits a fault, it is his own act. In the

volunteers, the faults of the men are in the majority of cases

attributable to the officers. We know some companies in which no man has

ever been sent to the guard house, none ever straggled in marching, none

ever been missing when ordered into battle. The officers of these

companies are such as we have described above. We know other

companies--too many--in which the men are constantly straying around the

country, constantly found drunk or disorderly, constantly out of the

ranks, and constantly absent when they ought to be in line. Invariably

the officers of such companies are worthless. If, then, the system of

holding officers responsible for the faults of the men, were adopted, a

great reform would, in our judgment, be introduced into the service. It

is a well-known fact in the army that the character of a regiment, of a

brigade, of a division even, can be entirely changed by a change of

commanders. A hundred or a thousand men, selected at random from civil

life anywhere, will have the same average character; and if the military

organization which these hundred or thousand form differs greatly from

that of any similar organization, it is attributable entirely to those

in command.

Passing to the army at large, the next matter of prominent necessity to

be noticed is the infusion in it of a uniform spirit--so as to make all

its parts work harmoniously in the production of a single tendency and a

single result. This must depend upon the general commanding. It is one

of the marks of genius in a commander that he can make his impress on

all the fractions of his command, down to the single soldier. An army

divided by different opinions of the capacity or character of its

commander, different views of policy, can scarcely be successful.

Napoleon's power of impressing his men with an idolatry for himself and

a confidence in victory is well known. The _moral_ element in the

effectiveness of an army is one of great importance. Properly stimulated

it increases the endurance and bravery of the soldiers to an amazing

degree. Physical ability without moral power behind it, is of little

consequence. It is a well-known fact that a man will, in the long run,

endure more (proportionately to his powers) than a horse, both being

subject to the same tests of fatigue and hunger. A commander with whom

an army is thoroughly in accord, and who shows that he is capable of

conducting it through battle with no more loss than is admitted to be

unavoidable, can make it entirely obedient to his will. The _faculty of

command_ is of supreme importance to a general. Without it, all other

attainments--though of the highest character--will be unserviceable.

However large bounties may have given inducements for men to enlist as

soldiers, it is undeniable that patriotism has been a deciding motive.

Under the influence of this, each soldier has entertained an ennobling

opinion of himself, and has supposed that he would be received in the

character which such a motive impressed on him. He has quickly

ascertained, however, when fully entered on his military duties, that

the discipline has reduced him from the position of an independent

patriot to that of a mere item in the number of the rank and file.

Military discipline is based on the theory that soldiers should be mere

machines. So far as obedience is concerned, this is certainly correct

enough; but discipline in this country, and particularly with

volunteers, should never diminish the peculiar American feeling of being

'as good as any other man.' On the contrary, the soldier should be

encouraged to hold a high estimation of himself. We do not believe that

those soldiers who are mere passive instruments--like the Russians, for

example--can be compared with others inspired with individual pride.

Yet, perhaps, our discipline has gone too far in the 'machine'

direction. To keep up the feeling of patriotism to its intensest glow is

a necessity for an American army, and a good general would be careful to

make this a prominent characteristic of the impression reflected from

his own genius upon his command. Professional fighting is very well in

its place, and there are probably thousands who are risking blood and

life in our armies, who yet do not cordially sympathize with the objects

of the war. But an army must be actuated by a living motive--one of

powerful importance; in this war there is room for such a motive to have

full play, and it is essential that our soldiers should be incited by no

mere abstract inducements, by no mere entreaties to gain victory, but by

exhibitions of all the reasons that make our side of the struggle the

noblest and holiest that ever engaged the attention of a nation.

But we must leave such discussions, and proceed specifically to the

subject of this paper--the methods of moving an army.

A state of war having arrived, it depends upon the Government to decide

where the _theatre of operations_ shall be. Usually, in Europe, this has

been contracted, containing but few _objective points_, that is, the

places the capture of which is desired; but in our country the theatre

of operations may be said to have included the whole South. The places

for the operations of armies having been decided on, the Government

adopts the necessary measures for assembling forces at the nearest

point, and accumulating supplies, as was done at Washington in 1861. A

commander is assigned to organize the forces, and at the proper time he

moves them to the selected theatre. Now commences the province of

_strategy_, which is defined as 'the art of properly directing masses

upon the theatre of war for the defence of our own or the invasion of

the enemy's country.' Strategy is often confounded with tactics, but is

entirely different--the latter being of an inferior, more contracted and

prescribed character, while the former applies to large geographical

surfaces, embraces all movements, and has no rules--depending entirely

on the genius of the commander to avail himself of circumstances. It is

the part of strategy, for instance, so to manoeuvre as to mislead the

enemy, or to separate his forces, or to fall upon them singly. Tactics,

on the contrary, are the rules for producing particular effects, and

apply to details. The strategy of the commander brings his forces into

the position he has chosen for giving battle; tactics prescribe the

various evolutions of the forces by which they take up their assigned

positions. It was by strategy that General Grant obtained the position

at Petersburg; it was by tactics that his army was able to march with

such celerity and precision that the desired objects were attained.

Marches are of two classes--of concentration and of manoeuvre. The

former, being used merely for the assembling of an army, or conducting

it to the theatre of operations, need but little precision; the latter

are performed upon the actual theatre of war, often in the presence of

the enemy, and require care and skill for their proper conduct. The

details of marches are of course governed by the nature of the country

in which they are performed, but so far as practicable they are made in

two methods--by parallel columns, or by the flank. The former is the

most usual and the most preferable in many respects; indeed, the latter

is never adopted except when compelled by necessity, or for the purpose

of executing some piece of strategy. A careful arrangement of all

details by commanders, and a steady persistence in their performance on

the part of the troops, are required to permit this class of marches to

be made safely in the presence of an enemy.

For the use of an army of a hundred thousand men about to march forward

against an enemy, all the parallel roads within a space of at least ten

miles are needed, and the more of them there are the better, since the

columns can thereby be made shorter, and the trains be sent by the

interior roads. Where a sufficient number of parallel roads exist,

available for the army, it is usual to put about a division on

each--sometimes the whole of a corps--according to the nature of the

country and the objects to be attained. We will attempt to illustrate

the march of an army by columns in the following diagram.

[Illustration]

Suppose that E and F are two towns thirty miles apart, and that there

are road connections as represented in the diagram. The army represented

by the dotted line A B, wishes to move to attack the army C D. Cavalry,

followed by infantry columns, would be sent out on the roads E M N and E

G I, the cavalry going off toward P and K to protect the flanks, and the

infantry taking position at I and O. Meantime another column, behind

which are the baggage trains, covered with a rear guard, has moved to L.

If the three points I, L, and O are reached simultaneously, the army can

safely establish its new line, the baggage trains are entirely

protected, and the whole country is occupied as effectually as if every

acre were in possession.

The formation of a marching column varies according to circumstances,

but is usually somewhat as follows, when moving toward an enemy:

[Illustration:

Skirmishers.

Advance guard.

Brigade of infantry.

Battery of artillery.

Main body of infantry.

Main body of artillery.

Ambulances and wagon

trains

Rear guard.]

The dots representing the ambulances and wagon trains do not show the

true proportion of these to the rest of the column, and it cannot be

given except at too great a sacrifice of space. They occupy more road

than all the other parts of the column combined. With the advance guard

go the engineers and pioneers, to repair the roads, make bridges, etc.

The difficulties and dangers attending a _flank march_ can be made

apparent by a diagram:

[Illustration]

Let A B and C D represent two armies drawn up against each other in

three lines of battle, on opposite sides of a stream, E F. The commander

of the army A B, finding he cannot cross and drive the enemy from their

works, determines, by a flank march to the left, to go around them,

crossing at the point E. In order to effect this he must send his trains

off by the road I K L to some interior line, and then slowly unfold his

masses upon the single road K E H. By the time the head of his column is

at H the rear has not perhaps left K, and thus the whole length of his

army is exposed on its side to an attack by the enemy, which may sever

it into two unsupporting portions. It will be perceived that to

accomplish such marches with security, they must be made in secret as

far as possible, until a portion of the marching force reaches the rear

of the enemy; the column must be kept compact, and great vigilance must

be exercised. In his progress from the Rapidan to the James, General

Grant made three movements of this character with entire success, each

time putting our forces so far in the rear of the rebels that they were

compelled to hasten their own retreat instead of delaying to avail

themselves of the opportunity for attacking.

Besides the topography of the country, various circumstances influence

the manner in which a march is conducted--particularly the position of

the enemy. When following a retreating foe, the cavalry is sent in the

advance, supported by some infantry and horse artillery, to harass the

rear guard, and, if practicable, delay the retreat until the main army

can come up. This was the case in the peninsula campaign, from Yorktown

to the Chickahominy. Again, the exact position of the enemy may not be

known, or he may have large bodies in different places, so that his

intentions cannot be surmised. It is then necessary to scatter the army

so as to cover a number of threatened points, care being exercised to

have all the different bodies within supporting distances, and to be on

guard against a sudden concentration of the enemy between them. This was

the case in the campaign which ended so gloriously at Gettysburg. The

rebels were then threatening both Harrisburg and Baltimore, and the two

extremities of our army were over thirty miles apart, so as to be

concentrated either on the right, left, or centre, as events might

determine. It happened that a collision was brought on at Gettysburg,

and both armies immediately concentrated there. The corps on the right

of our army was obliged to march about thirty-two miles, performing the

distance in about eighteen or nineteen hours, and arriving in time to

participate in the second day's battle. As much skill is evinced by a

commander in preliminary manoeuvring marches and the assignment of

positions to the different portions of his army as in the direction of a

battle. Napoleon gained many of his victories through the effects of

such manoeuvres.

_Time_ is a very important element in marching. An army which can march

five miles a day more than its opponent will almost certainly be

victorious, for it can go to his flank, or assail him when unprepared,

Frederick the Great achieved his successes by imparting mobility to his

troops, and Napoleon also was a master of that peculiar feature in that

faculty of command of which we have before spoken, that enables a leader

to obtain from his men the maximum amount of continued exertion. To

achieve facility in marching, all the equipments of the soldiers should

be as light as possible, and the columns should be encumbered with no

more trains than are absolutely indispensable. Officers of the highest

class must be prepared to forego unnecessary luxuries, and to march with

nothing more than a blanket, a change of clothing, and rations for a few

days in their haversacks.

When a march is contemplated, orders are issued from the general

headquarters prescribing all the details--the time at which each corps

is to start, the roads to be taken, the precautions to be observed, and

the points to be gained. Usually an early hour in the morning is fixed

for the commencement of the march. If not in the immediate presence of

the enemy, and a surprise is not intended, the _reveille_ is beaten

about three o'clock, and the sleepy soldiers arouse from their beds on

the ground, pack up their tents, blankets, and equipments, get a hasty

breakfast, and fall into their ranks. If some commander--perhaps of a

regiment only--has been dilatory, the whole movement is delayed. Many

well-formed plans have been defeated by the indolence of a subordinate

commander and his failure to put his troops in motion at the designated

hour. Such a delay may embarrass the whole army by detaining other

portions, whose movements are to be governed by those of the belated

fragment. At four o'clock, if orders have been obeyed, the long columns

are moving. Perhaps four or five hours are occupied in filing out into

the road. While the sun is rising and the birds engaged at their matins,

the troops are trudging along at that pace of three miles an hour, which

seems so tardy, but which, persisted in day after day, traverses so

great a distance. Every hour there is ten or fifteen minutes' halt,

enabling the rear to close up, and the men to relieve themselves

temporarily of their guns and knapsacks. Soon the heat commences to grow

oppressive, the dust rises in suffocating clouds, knapsacks weigh like

lead, and the artillery horses pant as they drag the heavy guns. But the

steady tramp must be continued till about eleven o'clock, when a general

halt under the shelter of some cool woods, by the side of a stream, is

ordered. Two or three hours of welcome rest are here employed in dinner

and finishing the broken morning's nap. After the intenser heat of the

day is past, the tramp recommences, and continues till six or seven

o'clock, when the place appointed for encamping is reached. Soon white

tents cover every hill and plain and valley, the weary animals are

unharnessed, trees and fence rails disappear rapidly to feed the

consuming camp fires, there is a universal buzz formed from the laugh,

the song, the shout, and the talking of twenty thousand voices: it

gradually subsides, the fires grow dim, and silence and darkness fall

upon the scene.

Such marching, with its twenty, twenty-five, or thirty miles a day, is

light compared with the harassing fatigues of a retreat, before the

pursuit of a triumphant enemy. To accomplish this movement, so as to

save the organization and the material of an army, without too great a

loss of life, tests in the highest degree the skill of a commander and

the fortitude of the men. In a retreat, the usual order of marching is

reversed--the trains are sent in the advance, and the troops must remain

behind for their protection. Often it happens that they are obliged to

remain in line all day, to check by fighting the advance of the enemy,

and then continue their march by night. The dead and wounded must, to a

great extent, be left on the field; supplies are perhaps exhausted, with

no opportunity for replenishment; the merciless cannon of the enemy are

constantly thundering in the rear, his cavalry constantly making inroads

upon the flanks. Weary, hungry, exhausted, perhaps wounded, the soldier

must struggle along for days and nights, if he would avoid massacre or

consignment to the cruelties of a prison. The rout of a great army--the

disorganization and confusion of a retreat, even when well

conducted--the toil and suffering and often slaughter--are the saddest

scenes earth can present. Who can paint the terrors of that winter

retreat of the French from Moscow? Fortunately, in our war we have had

nothing to equal in horrors the retreats of European armies, but no one

who passed through those trying seven days fighting and marching which

closed the Peninsula campaign, can ever fail to shudder at the

sufferings imposed on humanity by a retreat.

VIOLATIONS OF LITERARY PROPERTY.

THE FEDERALIST.--LIFE AND CHARACTER OF JOHN JAY.

Among the rights which are ill protected by law, and yet of essential

importance to the individual and society, are those of literary

property. If any bequest should be sacred, it is that of thought,

convictions, art--the intellectual personality that survives human

life--and the 'local habitation and the name' whereby genius, opinion,

sentiment--what constitutes the best image and memorial of a life and a

mind, a character and a career, is preserved and transmitted. And yet,

with all our boasted civilization and progress, no rights are more

frequently or grossly violated, no wrongs so little capable of

redress, as those relating to literary property. Herein there is a

singular moral obtuseness a want of chivalry, an inadequate sense of

obligation--doubtless in part originating in that unjust legislation, or

rather want of legislation, whereby international law protects the

products of the mind and recognizes national literature as a great

social interest. Within a few months, the biography of our pioneer

author,[13] whose memory his life and character, not less than his

genius, had singularly endeared to the whole range of English

readers--was prepared by a relative designated by himself, who, with

remarkable tact and fidelity, completed his delicate task, according to

the materials provided and the wishes expressed by his illustrious

kinsman. A London publisher reprinted the work, with eighty pages

interpolated, wherein, with an utter disregard to common delicacy toward

the dead or self-respect in the living, unauthentic gossip is made to

desecrate the reticent and consistent tone of the work, pervert its

spirit, and detract from its harmonious attraction and truth. A greater

or more indecent and unjustifiable liberty was never taken by a

publisher with a foreign work; it was an insult to the memory of

Washington Irving, to his biographer and those who cherish his fame.

Not many weeks ago, an eloquent young divine, who had in no small degree

saved the State of California to the Union, by his earnest and constant

plea for national integrity, died in the midst of his useful and noble

career: forthwith the publisher of a Review, in whose pages some of his

early essays had appeared, announced their republication: in vain the

friends and family of Starr King protested against so crude and limited

a memorial of his genius, and entreated that they might be allowed to

glean and garner more mature and complete fruits of his pen, as a token

of his ability and his career; and thus do justice, by careful selection

and well-advised preparation, to the memory they and their fellow

citizens so tenderly and proudly cherished: no; the articles had been

paid for, the recent death of the writer gave them a market value, and

the publishers were resolved to turn them to account, however good taste

and right feeling and sacred associations were violated.

Again, one of the few legal works of American origin which has a

standard European reputation is Wheaton's 'International Law.' Its

author was eminently national in his convictions; foreign service and

patriotic instincts had made him thoroughly American in his sympathies

and sentiments; no one of our diplomatic agents sent home such

comprehensive and sagacious despatches, having in view 'the honor and

welfare of the whole country;' and no one who knew Henry Wheaton doubts

that, were he living at this hour, all his influence, hopes, and faith

would be identified with the Union cause.

Yet an edition[14] of his great work has lately appeared, edited in an

opposite interest; and the standard reference on the law of nations, so

honorable to the legal knowledge, perspicacity, and candor of an

American author, goes forth perverted and deformed by annotations and

comments indirectly sympathetic with the wicked rebellion now

devastating the nation. Can a greater literary outrage be imagined? Is

it possible more grossly to violate the rights of the dead?

Aware that certain rules apply to the annotation of legal treatises not

recognized in other departments of literature, and diffident of personal

judgment in this respect, in order to ascertain how far our sense of

this violation of literary property and reputation was well founded, how

far we were right in asserting a partisan aim, we requested an

accomplished lawyer, thoroughly versed in the literature of his

profession, and experienced as an editor, to examine this edition of

Wheaton, and state his own opinion thereof: to him we are indebted for

the following clear and palpable instances of a perverted use of a

standard American treatise, endeared to many living friends of the

author, and all his intelligent and patriotic countrymen: of the

'additions' to the original by the editor, he says:

'1. They indicate considerable reading and industry, but are far

too voluminous, and abound in extended extracts from speeches,

state papers, and statutes, which should have been omitted

altogether, or very much abridged.

'2. They contain no language complimentary to the Administration,

little or nothing in defence of the Government--none that can be

offensive to Jefferson Davis; and, as a whole, they give the

impression that he regards the Confederate position as being quite

as defensible, on the principles of international law, as that of

the United States.

'3. He has no word of censure for Lord John Russell, and no word

of apology for Mr. Seward. He nowhere calls the Confederates

_rebels_, and nowhere thinks the conduct of France suspicious or

unfriendly.

'4. His positions are unquestionably the same with those of

Seymour, Bishop Hopkins, Professor Morse, Judge Woodward, etc.

'5. He is everywhere cold--more willing to wound than bold to

strike; and yet he fretfully commits himself before he gets

through, in defence of slavery and extreme democratic positions.

'6. He does not pretend that he was ever requested by the great

author with whose productions he has taken such liberties to

undertake the editorial duties.

'His language is so general that one needs to read it carefully to

feel the full force of what I have said.

'In the preface (page 1-20), he speaks of 'Spanish American

independence, now jeopardized by our _fratricidal_

contest'--fratricidal is indeed a favorite word; he uses it in an

offensive sense as regards the United States. Page 99, note, he

says of slavery, what is utterly untrue, that 'the Constitution

recognized it as property, and pledges the Federal Government to

protect it.' The noble act of June 19, 1862, forbidding slavery in

United States Territories, he comments on in this wise: 'This act

wholly ignores the decision of the Supreme Court (meaning the Dred

Scott case) on the subject of slavery.' He then inserts the whole

act in the note, only to hold it up to censure--'testing it by

international law' as interpreted by him. At page 605 he denounces

that law as 'obnoxious not only to the principles of international

law, but to the Constitution of the United States.' His note and

extracts, including long extracts from speeches of Thomas, of

Massachusetts, and Crittenden, of Kentucky, fill more than

twenty-two pages--reserving a line or two of text at the top. To

say nothing of the sentiments, such notes are a shameful abuse of

the reputation and work of Mr. Wheaton, and a perversion of the

duties and rights of an editor. But a word of the sentiments. He

exhausts himself and the records of the past in accumulating

precedents to condemn the policy of freeing slaves as a war

measure, or of arming them in the nation's defence.

'At page 614, in this same note, speaking of the effect of the

Proclamation of Emancipation, he says: 'The attention of publicists

may well be called to the withdrawal of the four millions of men

from the cultivation of cotton, which, is the source of wealth of

the great commercial and manufacturing nations of Europe.' That is,

he suggests this as a ground for interference in our affairs on the

principles of _his_ international law. He further adds that this

cultivation of cotton is 'by nature a virtual monopoly of the

seceded States;' that is, nature preordained the negroes to be

slaves in the seceded States to raise cotton; and hence natural and

international law require emancipation proclamations to be put

down. Did Stephens ever go farther? Again, on the same page, he

says: 'The effect on the United States, _in the event of the

reestablishment of the Federal authority,_' without the

Proclamation in force, etc., 'would be _seriously felt_, in its

financial bearings,' etc.--'abroad as well as at home.' Not

satisfied, therefore, with suggesting a justification of

intervention, on the basis of international law, he appeals to the

cupidity of foreigners as well as natives, by hinting also that

financial ruin may follow the triumph of Freedom and the Federal

armies. What a shame that an American editor should use the great

name of Wheaton to give dignity to such suggestions in foreign

countries.' He then gives--all in the same interminable note (page

614)--an extract from _The Morning Chronicle_, of May 16, 1860, of

which I give you this delicious morsel: 'No blacks, no cotton, such

is the finality.' At page 609, he speaks of the 'incompatibility of

confiscation of property with the present state of civilization.'

At page 609, he quotes, with evident delight, the sanctimonious

despatch of Lord John Russell about sinking ships in Charleston

harbor, which his lordship calls a 'project only worthy the times

of barbarism;' and the American annotator, who could use page after

page to degrade his own Government for emancipating slaves, of

course could not be expected to refer to any of the precedents that

would have silenced Lord John, and have justified the United

States; and he therefore passes on with no reference to them.

'At page 669, Mr. Wheaton says: 'The validity of maritime captures

must be determined in a court of the captor's Government,' etc.

This American editor does not so much as allude to the fact, that

while he is writing, the highways of the ocean are lighted by the

fires of American merchantmen, plundered, and then burned, without

condemnation of any court, by vessels fitted out in English ports,

in open violation of the first principles of international law, and

which have never been in any port under the jurisdiction of the

piratical Confederacy!

'Some of his indications of sympathy with the rebellion are quite

in excess of those of Lord John, with whose views, on the whole, he

seems well enough pleased. For example, at page 254, Lord John is

quoted as follows: 'Has a commission from the _so-called_ President

Davis,' etc.; but at page 107 and generally, the American editor,

not willing to imply that there is any doubt about the reality or

permanency of the Confederate concern, nor being willing to offend

its managers, speaks of 'the President of the Confederate States,'

and 'an act of Congress of the Confederate States,' etc.; and when

he reaches page 535, as if to set Lord John a better example (and I

believe there had been some Confederate victories about the time he

was writing that note), he says: 'A proclamation was issued by

_President Davis_, on the 14th of August, 1861, ordering all

citizens adhering to the Government of the United States, etc., to

depart from the _Confederate States_ in forty days.' It is very

evident the author approves this order as warranted by

international law, at least according to his interpretation

thereof.

'Need I go farther to satisfy you of the temper and character of

the notes, and the views of their author? I can hardly suppress the

expression of my indignation that such a use should have been made

of this great national work--that such an opportunity should have

been lost to say something worthily in favor of colonization and

freedom, and in vindication of our nation, in its great struggle

with the relics of barbarism in its midst, and with the selfish and

ambitious spirits of the European continent, so ready to take

advantage of our troubles to promote their own schemes.'

We now come to another and more generally obnoxious instance of this use

of standard national works for personal or political objects. The

'Federalist,' from the circumstances under which it was written, the

influence it exerted, the events with which it is associated, the

character of the writers, and the ability manifest both in their

arguments and the style--has long been regarded as a political classic.

It was the text book of a large and intelligent party at the time of and

long subsequent to the adoption of the Constitution; and few works of

political philosophy, written to meet an exigency and prepare the way

for a governmental change, have attained so high and permanent a rank

among foreign critics and historians. It is evident that such a work,

whoever owns the copyright or boasts the authorship, has a national

value and interest. To preserve it intact, to keep it in an eligible and

accessible form before the public, is all that any editor or publisher

has a right to claim. Much has been written as to the authorship of the

respective papers, and some passages have been variously rendered in

different editions; but the general scope and merit of the work, and the

obvious and unchallenged identity of style and opinion with the

acknowledged authors as regards most of the articles, make the

discussions on these points of comparative little significance to the

reader of the present day, who regards the work as a whole, seizes its

essential traits, and is _en rapport_ with its magnanimous tone, so

wholly opposed to petty division of credit in a labor undertaken from

patriotic motives, and by scholars and gentlemen. Enough that we have

here the reasonings of enlightened citizens, the views of statesmen, the

arguments whereby the claims of the Constitution were vindicated.

Whoever is familiar with the history of the period, finds in this

remarkable work a memorable illustration of that rectitude and wisdom

which presided over the early counsels of the nation, and an evidence of

the rare union of sagacity and comprehensiveness, of liberal aspiration

and prudential foresight, of conscientiousness and intelligence, which

has won for the founders of the republic the admiration of the world. In

these pages, how much knowledge of the past is combined with insight as

to the future, what common sense is blent with learning, what

perspicacity with breadth of view! Each department of the proposed

government is described and analyzed; the political history of Greece,

Rome, the Italian republics, France, and Great Britain examined for

precedents and illustrations; popular objections answered; popular

errors rectified; this provision explained, that clause justified; the

judicial, legislative, and executive functions defined; national revenue

discussed in all its relations; the advantages of our civil list, of a

republic over a democracy in controlling the effects of faction, are

clearly indicated; as are those attending the reservation of criminal

and civil justice to the respective States: on the one hand the defects

of the old Confederacy are stated with emphasis and truth, and on the

other, the transcendent benefits of Federal union are elaborately

argued, and economy, stability, and vigor proved to be its legitimate

fruits. Of the evils of the old system, it is said: 'Let the point of

extreme depression to which our national dignity and credit have sunk,

let the inconvenience felt everywhere from a lax and ill-administered

government, let the revolt of a part of North Carolina, the memory of

insurrection in Pennsylvania, and actual insurrection in Massachusetts,

declare it.' An unique distinction of this political treatise is that

while Pericles, Cato, Hume, Montesquieu, Junius, and other classical and

modern authorities are cited with scholarly tact, the most practical

arguments drawn from the facts of the hour and the needs of the people,

are conveyed in language the most lucid and impressive. To give a

complete analysis of the 'Federalist' would require a volume; the glance

we have cast upon its various topics sufficiently indicates the extent

and importance of the work. Not less memorable is the spirit in which it

was undertaken. 'A nation without a national government,' it is said,

'is, in my view, an awful spectacle;' and elsewhere--'The establishment

of a constitution in times of profound peace, by the voluntary consent

of a whole people, is a prodigy, to the completion of which I look

forward with trembling anxiety.' 'I dread,' writes Jay, 'the more the

consequences of new attempts, because I know that powerful individuals

in this and in other States are enemies to a General National Government

in every possible shape.'

Under such a sense of responsibility, with such patriotic solicitude did

Hamilton, Madison, and Jay plead for the new Constitution with their

fellow citizens of New York in the journals of the day, and it is these

fragmentary comments and illustrations which, subsequently brought

together in volumes, constitute 'the Federalist'; and well did they,

toward the close of the discussion, observe: 'Let us now pause and ask

ourselves whether, in the course of these papers, the proposed

Constitution has not been satisfactorily vindicated from the aspersions

thrown upon it, and whether it has not been shown worthy of the public

approbation and necessary to the public safety and prosperity.' Whatever

degree of sympathy or antagonism the intelligent reader of the

'Federalist' may feel, he can scarcely fail to admit that it is a

masterly discussion of principles, and that the influence it exerted in

securing the ratification of the Constitution in the State of New York,

was a legitimate result of intelligent and conscientious advocacy. But

the work has other than merely historical and literary claims upon our

esteem at this hour. Its principles find confirmation here and now, in a

degree and to an extent which lends new force and distinction to its

authors as writers of political foresight and patriotic prescience.

There are innumerable passages as applicable to the events of the last

three years as if suggested by them; there are arguments and prophecies

which have only attained practical demonstration through the terrible

ordeal of civil war now raging around and in the heart of the republic.

When we saw the announcement of a new edition[15] of this national work,

we hailed it as most seasonable and desirable: when the first volume

came under our notice, our first feeling was one of gratitude to the

editor for having taken such care to reproduce the work with the

greatest possible correctness of text, obtained by patient collation of

the different editions: regarding his labors as those of a disinterested

historical student, ambitious to bring before the public a work full of

warning and wisdom for this terrible national crisis, we at first saw in

his annotations and comments only the labor of love whereby a standard

work is illustrated and made more emphatic and complete: but, ere long,

we found a spirit of detraction at work, a want of sympathy with the

tone and a want of understanding of the motives of the authors, which

made us regret that, instead of this partisan edition, the 'Federalist'

had not been reissued with a brief explanatory introduction, and without

note or comment.

Instead of a hearty recognition, we find a narrow interpretation of

these eminent men: long-exploded slanders, born of partisan spite, are

more in the mind of the editor than the permanent and invaluable traits

which, to a generous and refined mind, constitute the legitimate claims

of the work itself and the authors thereof. Guizot remarks: 'In the

discussions of the numbers' (the 'Federalist'), 'for all that combines a

profound knowledge of the great elementary principles of human

government with the wisest maxims of practical administration, I do not

know in the whole compass of my reading, whether from ancient or modern

authors, so able a work.' _The Edinburgh Review_ says: 'The 'Federalist'

is a publication that exhibits an extent and precision of information, a

profundity of research and an acuteness of understanding, which would

have done honor to the most illustrious statesmen of ancient or modern

times.'

In contrast with these and similar instances of eminent foreign

appreciation, the editor of this edition of the 'Federalist' attributes

to tact what is due to truth, represents the people, as such, as opposed

to the Constitution, and Hamilton, Jay, and Madison 'poor antagonists'

in combating their objections; if so, how does he account for the

remarkable triumph of their dispassionate exposition and lucid

arguments? In all political and literary history there are few more

benign and distinguished examples of the practical efficiency of

intelligent, patriotic, and conscientious reasoning against ignorance,

prejudice, and partisan misrepresentation. And yet, in the face of this

testimony, by the self-constituted editor of this national work,

Hamilton is described as sophistical and disingenuous, whose object is

to deceive rather than to instruct, to mislead rather than enlighten,

and whose motives are partisan rather than patriotic.

Throughout the introduction there is a spirit of latent detraction;

insinuations against the aims and methods, if not against the character

of the illustrious men whose memories are our most precious inheritance;

we feel that, however industrious in research and ingenious in

conjecture, the tone and range of the critic's mind are wholly

inadequate for any sympathetic insight as to the nature of the men whose

writings he undertakes to reintroduce to the public--and this

irrespective of any difference of political opinion: something more than

verbal accuracy and patient collation is requisite to interpret the

'Federalist' and appreciate its authors; even a political opponent, of

kindred social and personal traits, would do better justice to the

theme: and a truly patriotic citizen of the republic, at such a crisis

as the present, could never find therein an appropriate occasion to

magnify political differences at the expense of national sentiment.

Whatever the literary merit or political interest of the 'Federalist,'

its moral value is derived from our faith in the absolute sincerity and

profound convictions of its authors: not only does the internal evidence

of every page bear emphatic testimony thereto, but the correspondence of

each writer as well as of contemporary statesmen, attest the same truth:

they regarded the condition of the country as ruinous, and lamented that

the fruits of victory turned to ashes on the lips of the people, because

there was no homogeneous and vital organization to conserve and

administer the invaluable blessings won by the sword: against the

suicidal jealousy of State rights as adequate for prosperous

self-reliance without the bonds and blessings of a vital National

Government, they earnestly directed the most patriotic and intelligent

arguments: of these the 'Federalist' is the chief repertory; hence its

value and interest as a popular treatise which prepared the way for the

intelligent adoption of the Constitution; yet in this edition the

introductory remarks impugn the sincerity of the authors, and attempt to

revive the political heresy of extreme State as opposed to Federal

power, which it is the primary object of the work to expose and condemn;

and this at a time when the fatal doctrine is in vogue as what may be

called the metaphysical apology for the most base and barbarous

rebellion against free government recorded in history. According to this

editor, Chancellor Livingston was 'dilatory and uncertain,' Duane

sympathized with the Tories in power, Hamilton exaggerated the troubles

of the country and consciously sought to make his fellow citizens

attribute, against the facts, the depreciated currency and the dearth of

trade to the weakness of the Confederation--making a false issue to

effect a political triumph: 'his plan of operations,' his 'tact,' are

referred to as if, instead of being a true patriot and conscientious

statesman, he was a mere special pleader, intriguing and ambitious. Add

to this that, when introducing the 'Federalist' to the public in what

purports to be an historical preface, he is silent on the wonderful

fruits of the Constitution therein advocated--and fails to indicate, as

would any candid critic, the remarkable proofs which time and experience

yield of the practical wisdom and patriotic foresight of the men whose

honorable prestige he thus indirectly seeks to undermine. Jay, we are

told, was regarded 'by the majority of his fellow citizens as selfish,

impracticable, and aristocratic;' he is said to have been 'induced to

undertake' his share of the 'Federalist;' he speaks of the small part he

actually did write, without alluding to the fact that illness withdrew

him from work of all kinds, after his third paper had been

contributed--thus conveying the impression of a lukewarm zeal and even

utter indifference; whereas not only do his own words confute the

imputation, but we have Madison's declaration that the idea of the

'Federalist' was suggested by Jay; 'and it was undertaken last fall,' he

writes to Jefferson, 'by Jay, Hamilton, and myself. The proposal came

from the two former. The execution was thrown, by the sickness of Jay,

mostly on the two others.' It is even insinuated by this editor that Jay

confined himself to topics which could be discussed 'without

compromising in the least his general political sentiments, and without

obliging him to assent even by implication to any portion of the

proposed Constitution.' The representative duties and offices again and

again forced upon John Jay--whether as a writer, jurist, envoy, or

legislator--the evidence of his own letters, and especially the

testimony of his fellow statesmen, adequately confute such

misrepresentations as we have noted. It is a thankless, and, we believe,

a superfluous task to vindicate the manliness, sincerity, and patriotism

of the authors of the 'Federalist' and their fellow statesmen; indeed,

their illustrious opponents in political questions again and again bore

witness to the worth, wisdom, and integrity of the _men_, while many

disputed the doctrine of the writers; popular sentiment embalms their

fame and cherishes their memories; the insinuations of any

self-constituted editor cannot impair the confidence or reverse the

verdict which time has only confirmed and national growth made more

emphatic. On the other hand, such attempts to diminish the personal

authority, by misrepresenting the methods and motives of these eminent

men, as are exhibited in the whole tone and manner of this editorship of

a national work, imply a perverted sense of the duties of the hour, an

insensibility to the terrible crisis through which the nation is

passing, that cannot be too severely condemned by the patriotic and

intelligent of all parties. Now, if never before, we should keep bright

the escutcheon of our country's honor, and renew our love and admiration

for the fathers of the republic and our faith in their principles.

Scrupulous as firm, Jay acted with judicial moderation; he advocated the

last petition before declaring hostility against Great Britain--desirous

of trying every means before accepting the dread alternative of war; he

insisted upon a general convention of the States before deciding upon

the new Constitution; he was loyal until loyalty became an abrogation of

free citizenship; law and justice with him went hand in hand with

reform, and rectitude, not impulse, gave consistency to his course. Such

a man lays himself open to factious criticism far more than reckless

politicians, who are restrained by no sense of responsibility; but, on

the other hand, in the last analysis, they stand forth the most pure

because the most patient, just, and truly patriotic of representative

statesmen.

'Mr. Jay,' says John Adams, 'had as much influence in the preparatory

measures for digesting the Constitution and in obtaining its adoption as

any man in the nation;' yet according to this editor of the

'Federalist,' he found therein 'little that he could commend, and

nothing for which he could labor:' the same authority declares that he

was regarded 'by the majority of his fellow citizens as selfish,

impracticable, and aristocratic;' while Dr. McVickar justly remarks that

the first thing that strikes us in contemplating his life is 'the

unbroken continuity, the ceaseless succession of honorable confidences,

throughout a period of twenty-eight years, reposed in Jay by his

countrymen.'

But instead of dwelling upon such abortive disparagement, the only

importance of which arises from its being annexed to and associated with

a standard political text-book, let us refresh our memories, our

patriotism, our best sympathies of mind and heart, by tracing once more

the services and delineating the character of this illustrious man,

whose benign image seems to invoke his countrymen, at this momentous

climax of our national life, to recur to those principles and that faith

which founded and should now save the republic.

Among the French Protestants who were obliged to seek a foreign home

when the Edict of Nantes was revoked, was Pierre Jay, a prosperous

merchant of Rochelle, who took up his abode in England. This statement

alone is no inadequate illustration of the character of John Jay's

paternal grandfather; sagacity, enterprise, and application, are

qualities we may justly infer from commercial success; and when the

fruits thereof were, in no small degree, sacrificed by adherence to a

proscribed religion, no ordinary degree of moral courage and pure

integrity must have been united to prudential industry. Those who

believe in that aristocracy of nature whereby normal instincts are

transmitted, will find even in this brief allusion to the Huguenot

merchant traits identical with those which insured the public usefulness

and endear the personal memory of his grandson. The latter's father,

Augustus Jay, was one of three sons. He, with many others of the second

generation of exiled French Protestants, found in America a more

auspicious refuge than even the more free states of Europe afforded. A

family who had previously emigrated to New York, under similar

circumstances, naturally welcomed the new _emigre_; and the daughter of

Bathezan Bayard became his wife. Their children consisted of three

daughters and one son, who was named Peter for his grandfather. One of

the prominent names of the original Dutch colonists of New York is Van

Cortland; and Peter Jay married, in 1728, Mary, a daughter of this race,

by whom he had ten children, of which John, the subject of this sketch,

was the eighth. Genealogists, who reckon lineage according to humanity

rather than pride, might find in the immediate ancestry of John Jay one

of those felicitous combinations which so often mark the descent of

eminent men among our Revolutionary statesmen. With the courteous and

intelligent proclivities of Gallic blood the conservative, domestic, and

honest nature of the Hollander united to form a well-balanced mind and

efficient character. With the best associations of the time and place

were blended the firmness of principle derived from ancestors who had

suffered for conscience' sake; so that in the antecedents and very blood

of the boy were elements of the Christian, patriot, and gentleman; which

phases of his nature we find dominant and pervasive throughout his life;

for it is a remarkable fact in the career of John Jay that by no triumph

of extraordinary genius, by no favor of brilliant circumstances did he

win and leave an honored name, but through the simple uprightness and

the sound wisdom of a consistent and loyal character--so emphatic and

yet unostentatious as to overcome, in the end, the most rancorous

political injustice. His early training was no less favorable to this

result than his birth. His father removed to Westchester county, and, on

a pleasant rural domain still occupied by the family, the future

jurist's childhood was passed. At that time there was a French church at

New Rochelle, the pastor of which was an excellent scholar; and this

gentleman fitted young Jay for college. He gave early proofs of a

studious turn of mind and a reticent temperament; acquiring knowledge

with pleasure and facility; and, for the most part, exhibiting a

thoughtful demeanor. In some of his father's letters, alluding to his

childhood, he is described as a boy of 'good capacity,' of 'grave

disposition,' and one who 'takes to learning exceedingly well.' He

attended the grammar school of the French clergyman until the age of

fourteen, and then entered King's (now Columbia) College, at that time

under the care of President Johnson. Here he became intimate with

three youths with whom he was destined to be memorably associated

in after life, and whose names, with his own, have since become

historical--Gouverneur Morris, Alexander Hamilton, and Robert R.

Livingston. We can easily imagine that the diversities of character

between these remarkable men were already evident; the ardor and

frankness of Hamilton, the emphatic rhetoric of Morris and fluent grace

of Livingston must have singularly contrasted with the reserve,

seriousness, and quietude of Jay; yet were they akin in the normal basis

of character--in the love of knowledge, in loyalty to conviction, and

that heart of courtesy which harmonizes the most diverse gifts of mind

and traits of manner; even then no common mutual respect must have

existed between them, and difference of opinion elicited both wit and

wisdom. In a letter to the latter of these young friends, written soon

after, Jay speaks of himself as 'ambitious;' but little in his

subsequent life justifies the idea; he had more pride of character--more

need to respect himself--than ambition, as that word is usually

understood; excellence more than distinction was his aim;--no one of the

leaders in the Revolution sought office less, none fulfilled its duties

with more singleness of purpose, or escaped from its responsibilities

with greater alacrity; the instincts of John Jay were mainly for truth,

duty, and success, in the higher acceptation of the term. What he

undertook, indeed, he strove to do well, but it was from an ideal

rectitude and a pride of achievement more than a desire to gain applause

and advancement; his ambition was more scholarly than political or

personal. He graduated with the highest honors on the fifteenth of May,

1764, and delivered the Latin salutatory. His family had gained wealth

and position in commerce, and it is probable that, with his

clear-sighted perseverance, John Jay would have been a most successful

merchant; but his tastes were intellectual; he determined to study

law--at that period, in this country, when Blackstone's 'Commentaries'

had not appeared, before Chancellor Kent had written, or a law school

had been established, a discipline so arduous and uninviting as to be

conscientiously adopted only by the most self-reliant and determined.

For a brief period Jay was the law partner of his friend Livingston,

afterward the chancellor of the State. The evidences of his professional

career, like those of so many eminent lawyers, are inadequate to suggest

any clear idea of his method and ability, except so far as the respect

he won, the practice he acquired, and the style of those state papers

which are preserved, indicate argumentative powers, extensive knowledge,

and finished style: in a few years he had become eminent at the bar, and

while in the full tide of success, the exigencies of public affairs--the

dawn of the American Revolution, called him from personal to patriotic

duties. He was an active participant in the first meeting called to

protest against the injustice and oppression of the British Government,

and elected one of the committee of fifty chosen by the people, to

decide upon a course of action: at his instance they recommended the

appointment of deputies from each of the thirteen colonies. Jay was the

youngest member of the Congress that met on the 5th of September, 1774,

and was selected as one of the committee to draft an address to the

people of Great Britain; in the next Congress he was one of the

committee to prepare the declaration showing the causes and necessity of

a resort to arms, and of that appointed to draft a petition to the

king--as a last resort before actual hostilities; he also wrote the

address to the people of Canada, Jamaica, and Ireland. The address to

the people of Great Britain opens thus:

'When a nation, led to greatness by the hand of liberty, and

possessed of all the glory that heroism, munificence, and humanity

can bestow, descends to the ungrateful task of forging chains for

her friends and children, and, instead of giving support to

freedom, turns advocate for slavery and oppression, there is reason

to suspect she has either ceased to be virtuous, or been extremely

negligent in the appointment of her rulers.'

It concludes as follows:

'It is with the utmost regret that we find ourselves compelled, by

the overruling principles of self-preservation, to adopt measures

detrimental in their consequences to numbers of our fellow subjects

in Great Britain and Ireland. But we hope that the magnanimity and

justice of the British nation will furnish a Parliament of such

wisdom, independence, and public spirit, as may save the violated

rights of the whole empire from the devices of wicked ministers and

evil counsellors, whether in or out of office; and thereby restore

that harmony, friendship, and fraternal affection between all the

inhabitants of his majesty's kingdoms and territories, so ardently

wished for by every true and honest American.'

These and other state papers, emanating, as Jefferson declared, 'from

the finest pen in America,' won the eloquent admiration of Chatham, and,

by their dignified, rational, and well-informed spirit, had a great

influence in securing, at the outset of the momentous struggle, the

respect and sympathy of the wise and conscientious in both hemispheres,

for the people and their enlightened and intrepid representatives.

As correspondent with the other colonies, in all the important

discussions and arrangements, we find John Jay earnest, sagacious, and

indefatigable: chosen a delegate to the New York colonial convention, he

could not be present in Congress to sign the Declaration of

Independence; but he reported the resolutions whereby his State endorsed

that memorable instrument--her first official act toward American

independence.

In 1774, Jay had married the daughter of Governor Livingston, of New

Jersey; and the glimpses which his correspondence affords of his

domestic life, indicate that in this regard he was peculiarly blest, not

only in the sweet and dignified sympathies of a family inspired by

tenderness, loyalty, and faith, but in the freshness and vigor of his

own affections, whereby retirement became far more dear than the

gratification even of patriotic ambition in an official career. His home

was indeed overshadowed by the dark angel, and the loss of a beloved

daughter long and deeply saddened his heart; but there was a daily

beauty in the confidence and sympathy of his conjugal relation--hinted

rather than developed in the freedom of his letters to the home whose

attractions were only increased by absence and distance, in the respect

and love of his sons, and the tender consideration devoted to his blind

brother; while, spreading in beautiful harmony from this sacred centre,

his heart and hand freely and faithfully responded to numerous and

eminent ties of friendship, associations of enterprise and philanthropy,

and the humblest claims of neighborhood and dependants.

His next eminent service was to draft the Constitution of New York;

subsequently amended, it yet attests his patriotism and legal insight;

while his own illustrations sanctioned its judicial workings: one of the

council of safety and appointed chief justice of the supreme court, Jay

maintained, but never abused the high authority with which he was thus

invested; kindness to political opponents, devoid of all bitterness,

inflexibly just, he was often compared to the unyielding and

self-possessed characters of antiquity. When Clinton was preparing to

join Burgoyne, Jay held his first court at Kingston--administering

justice under the authority of an invaded State, and on the very line of

an enemy's advance; under such circumstances, his uniform dignity,

calmness, faith in the people, in the cause, and in the result, made a

deep and salutary impression, enhanced by the courage exhibited in his

charge to the grand jury. In order to serve as delegate to the Congress

over which he soon presided, Jay resigned the chief justiceship on the

tenth of November, 1778; and signalized his advent by a logical,

seasonable, and cheering address to the people on the condition of

affairs.

Jay's mind was essentially judicial: he had the temperament and taste as

well as the reasoning powers desirable for legal investigation, and the

probity and decision of character essential to an administrator of law.

With strong domestic proclivities and rural taste--the conflicts,

excitement, and responsibilities of a political career were alien to his

nature; but the functions of the higher magistracy found in him a

congenial representative. Accordingly, it is evident from his

correspondence and the concurrent testimony of his kindred and friends,

that while as chief justice his sphere of duty was, however laborious,

full of interest to his mind--the vocation of a diplomatist was

oppressive: he undertook it, as he had other temporary public offices,

from conscientious patriotism; the same qualities which gave him

influence and authority on the bench commended him specially to his

fellow citizens as a negotiator in the difficult and dangerous

exigencies produced in our foreign relations by the war with Great

Britain. Tact, sagacity, courage--the ability to command respect and to

advocate truth and maintain right--dignity of manner, benignity of

temper--devotion to his country--all the requisites seemed to combine in

the character of Jay, on the one hand to enforce just claims, and, on

the other, to propitiate good will. To raise a loan and secure an

alliance in Spain seemed a hopeless task: Jay undertook it, much to his

personal inconvenience and with extreme reluctance. The history of his

mission, as revealed by his correspondence and official documents, is a

history of vexations, mortifications, and patient, isolated struggles

with difficulties, such as few men would have encountered voluntarily or

endured with equanimity. The Spanish Government shrank from a decisive

course, feared self-committal, promised aid, and to concede, on certain

terms, the right of the United States to navigate the Mississippi. Jay

took council of Franklin, who advised him not to accede to the terms

proposed, but to maintain 'the even good temper hitherto manifested.'

Meantime Congress drew on him for the loan without waiting to hear that

it had been negotiated; after a small advance, the Spanish Government

declined the loan unless the sole right of navigating the Mississippi

were granted. Having thus failed to accomplish the great object, which

indeed was unattainable except at a sacrifice which subsequent events

have proved would have essentially interfered with the prosperous

development of the Southwest--Jay, sensitively vigilant of his country's

credit, despite his habitual prudence, accepted the bill at his own

credit; boldly assuming the responsibility; his claims on the Spanish

Government were proved; Franklin remitted twenty-five thousand dollars;

of the one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, due December, 1780, only

twenty-five thousand was paid by the following April; his outstanding

acceptances amounted to two hundred and thirty-one thousand dollars--the

greater part of which was due in two months. A more painful situation

for a gentleman of refinement and honor can scarcely be imagined than

that of John Jay--living without any salary, living on credit, scarcely

recognized by the proud court to which he had been accredited; and yet

maintaining his self-respect, persistent in his aim, courteous in his

manner, faithful to his trust, harassed by anxiety--patient, true, and

patriotic. As we read the lively and genial letters of the lamented

Irving, when American minister at Madrid seventy years later, what a

contrast to the high consideration and social amenities he enjoyed, are

the humiliations and the baffled zeal of Jay, when obliged to 'stand and

wait,' under circumstances at once so perplexing and hopeless! In March,

1782, the bills were protested; but the credit that seemed utterly

destroyed was soon retrieved, though Jay found himself constrained, by

the instructions of his Government, to yield the right of navigating the

Mississippi in order to secure the treaty; having drawn and presented

it, his presence was no longer requisite, and he proceeded to France to

act in concert with Franklin, Adams, Jefferson, and Lee in negotiating

for peace.

In June, 1782, Jay arrived in Paris, and, with Franklin, for the most

part carried on the negotiations which resulted in the treaty of peace;

it was a period of 'painful anxiety and difficult labor:' Hamilton,

Jefferson, and other of his eminent countrymen recognized warmly his

services and his success: he did not altogether agree with Franklin, and

was pertinacious in claiming all respect due to the Government he

represented, assuring the British envoy that he would take no part in

the business unless the United States 'were treated as an independent

nation:' he drew up such a commission as would meet his views. While

Hamilton gave Jay full credit for sagacity and honesty, he thought him

suspicious, because he so far evaded his instructions as not to show

'the preliminary articles to our ally before he signed them:' this

caution, however, arose from Jay's patriotic circumspection; he excused

himself on the ground that his instructions 'had been given for the

benefit of America, and not of France,' and argued justly that there was

discretionary power to consult the public good rather than any literal

directions, the spirit, aim, and scope thereof being steadily adhered

to. Subsequent revelations abundantly proved that sagacity rather than

suspicion, and knowledge more than conjecture justified Jay's course.

There is a letter of Pickering, when Secretary of State, to Pinckney,

when about to visit France as envoy from the United States Government,

in regard to which Washington manifests in his correspondence particular

solicitude for the absolute correctness of its statements; wherein the

treachery of the French Government is demonstrated from official

documents. Jay, during his residence in Spain, had ample opportunity to

realize the selfish intrigues of the Bourbon dynasty, and he had a

better insight as to the real objects of the French Government, from

examining its policy at a distance and in connection with an ally, than

Franklin, who had been exposed to its immediate blandishments, and had

so many personal reasons for confidence and hope. Vergennes, then prime

minister, looked to the relinquishment of the fisheries, and while

France, from animosity to Great Britain, cheerfully aided us in the war

of the Revolution, it was no part of her secret purpose to foster into

independent greatness the power which she befriended from motives of

policy during her own struggle with England. Jay, therefore, insisted

upon a recognition of our independence on the part of Great Britain, not

as the first article of the treaty, but as _un fait accompli_; and

wisely declined to allow the French minister, whose plans and views he

so well understood, to see the advantageous terms we made with the

formidable enemy of France, until those terms were accepted, and the

treaty signed.

After visiting England and returning to Paris, having declined an

invitation from the Spanish Government to resume negotiations, and also

a tender from his own Government of the English mission, Jay returned to

his native land with delight, and on landing in New York, on the 24th of

July, 1784, was received with great honor and affection. Ten years of

public life had so little weaned him from his legal proclivities that he

had determined to resume practice; but Congress urged upon him the

important position of Secretary of Foreign Affairs, which place he

filled with distinguished ability until the convention to form the

Constitution met. In his correspondence, Jay's views of government are

frankly and clearly unfolded: he had experienced the manifold evils of

inadequate authority; and while he would have power emanate from the

people, he deeply felt the necessity of making it sufficient for the

exigencies of civil society: a strong General Government, therefore, he

deemed essential to national prosperity; his theory was not speculative,

but practical, founded upon observation and experience: it was sustained

by the wisest and best of his countrymen: it was, however, opposed to a

prevalent idea of State rights, a jealousy of their surrender and

infringement; comparatively few of his fellow citizens had, by reading

and reflection, risen to the level of the problem whose solution was to

be found in a charter at once securing all essential private rights and

local freedom, while binding together, in a firm and patriotic union,

the will and interests of a continent. Add to these obstacles the fierce

partisan feeling engendered by the circumstances of the time and

country--fears of aristocratic influences on the one hand, and sectional

intrigues on the other, and we can easily perceive that the first duty

of the enlightened and patriotic was to clear away prejudices, explain

principles, advocate cardinal political truths, and lift the whole

subject out of the dense region of faction and into the calm and clear

sphere of reason and truth. Accordingly, Hamilton, Madison, Jay, and

others, by public discussion sought to elucidate and vindicate the

Constitution: by conversation, correspondence, in the committee room and

the assembly, through reference to the past, analysis of the present,

anticipations of the future, John Jay, directly and indirectly advocated

and illustrated the Constitution. With his gifted coadjutors he became

an efficient political essayist; and, though prevented by illness from

contributing largely to the 'Federalist,' he wrote enough to identify

himself honorably with that favorite American classic of statesmen. His

frankness, lucid style, perspicuous sense, made him as effective a

writer in his own manner as the more intrepid Hamilton. When Washington

came to New York to be inaugurated as first President of the United

States, Jay proffered his hospitality with characteristic simplicity and

good sense; he received the votes of two States as Vice President; at

Washington's request he continued to perform the duties of Foreign

Secretary until Jefferson assumed the office, when, with eminent

satisfaction and in accordance with Jay's views, the President sent the

latter's name to the Senate as Chief Justice, thus associating him with

his Administration.

When Genet's arrival had stimulated partisan zeal into reckless faction,

and his insulting course widened the breach between the two political

sects, their representatives were exposed to all the unjust aspersion

and violent prejudice born of extreme opinions and free discussions: one

party held in high esteem the principles of the British constitution,

recognized the moral as well as civic necessity of a strong central

Government, and dreaded the unbridled license of French demagoguism;

they steadily opposed any identity of action or responsibility in

foreign affairs, cherished self-respect and self-reliance as the

safeguard of the States, and sustained the dignified and consistent

course of Washington: of these, John Jay was one of the most firm and

intelligent advocates, and hence the object of the most unscrupulous

partisan rancor: the name of Monarchist was substituted for Federalist,

of Jacobin for Democrat: on the one hand, the British minister

reproached the American Government with injustice to British subjects

and interests, contrary to treaty stipulations; on the other, Genet

complained of the ingratitude of the Government, and sought to array the

people against it: England had not as yet fulfilled her part of the

treaty; along the frontiers her troops still garrisoned the forts; the

lakes were not free for American craft, and no remuneration had been

made by Great Britain for the negroes which her fleet carried off at the

close of the war: meantime her warlike attitude toward France made

still fiercer the conflict of the respective partisans on this side of

the Atlantic; American seamen were impressed; crowds surrounded the

President's house, clamorous for war; and he was only sustained in the

Senate by an extremely small majority, while the Democratic party were

eager for immediate action against England. At this crisis, Washington

resolved to try another experiment for conciliation, and to this end

proposed Jay as especial envoy to Great Britain. His nomination was

opposed in the Senate, but prevailed by a vote of eighteen against

eight. The mission was not desired by him. Uncongenial as were absence

from home and diplomatic cares, this exile and duty were, in all private

respects, opposed to his tastes and wishes; he foresaw the difficulties,

anticipated the result, but, once convinced that he owed the sacrifice

of personal to public considerations, he now, as before and

subsequently, brought all his conscientiousness and intelligence to the

service of his country. His reception at the court of St. James was kind

and considerate, and his intercourse with Grenville, then Secretary of

Foreign Affairs, carried on with the greatest mutual respect. A treaty

was negotiated--Jay obtaining the best terms in his power: no state

paper ever gave rise to more virulent controversy; it became a new line

of demarcation, a new test of party feeling: Hamilton was its eloquent

advocate, Jefferson its violent antagonist: Washington doubted the

expediency of accepting it; and it passed the Senate by a bare majority.

While in a calm retrospect we acknowledge many serious objections to

such a treaty, they do not account for the intense excitement it caused;

and the circumstances under which it was executed sufficiently explain,

while they do not reconcile us to, the signal advantages it secured to

Great Britain. She agreed to give up the forts;--but this concession had

already been made; to compensate for illegal captures; there was a

provision for collecting British debts in America; and in a commercial

point of view American interests were sacrificed; it was declared a

treaty wherein a weak power evidently succumbed to a strong: but on the

other hand, public expectation had been extravagant: no reasonable

American citizen, cognizant of the state of the facts and of party

feeling, could have believed it possible to secure, at the time and

under the circumstances, a satisfactory understanding; and no candid

mind could doubt that a negotiator so patriotic, firm, and wise as John

Jay had earnestly sought to make the best of a difficult cause, or that

he was 'clear in his great office'--an office reluctantly accepted. It

has been well said of Jay's treaty that 'now few defend it on principle,

many on policy.' When its ratification was advised by the Senate, and it

became public, the whole country was aroused; all the latent venom of

partisan hate and all the wise forbearance of patriotic self-possession

were arrayed face to face in so fierce an opposition that Washington

justly described the period as 'a momentous crisis.' It was denounced as

cowardly; it was defended as expedient; copies were publicly destroyed

amid shouts of exultation: Jay was burned in effigy; the Boston Chamber

of Commerce voted in favor of its ratification: Hamilton, under the

signature of 'Camillus,' analyzed its claims, and deprecated the bitter

hostility it had evoked; and Fisher Ames, in pleading for moderation to

both parties, in the House of Representatives, embalmed his patriotic

counsel with such heroic patience and eloquent references to his

approaching end, that his speech became one of the standard exemplars of

American eloquence.

'When the fiery vapors of the war lowered in the skirts of our

horizon,' he observes, 'all our wishes were concentred in this

one--that we might escape the desolation of the storm: this treaty,

like a rainbow on the edge of the storm, marked to our eyes the

space where it was raging, and afforded, at the same time, the sure

prognostic of fair weather: if we reject it, the vivid colors will

grow pale; it will be a baleful meteor, portending tempest and

war.'

And he ends this remarkable speech in these words:

'I have thus been led by my feelings to speak more at length than I

had intended. Yet I have perhaps as little personal interest in the

event as any one here. There is, I believe, no member who will not

think his chance to be a witness of the consequences greater than

mine. If, however, the vote should pass to reject, and a spirit

should rise, as it will, with the public disorders, to make

confusion worse confounded, even I, slender and almost broken as my

hold upon life is, may outlive the Government and Constitution of

my country.'

Jay's own remarks on the subject in his private correspondence, are

characteristic alike of his rectitude of purpose and equanimity of soul:

'The approbation,' he observes, in a letter to Dr. Thatcher, 'of one

judicious and virtuous man relative to the conduct of the negotiations,

affords me more satisfaction than clamor and intrigue have given me

concern.'

Before the outbreak of political animosity on account of the treaty, and

during his absence on that mission, Jay had been elected Governor of the

State of New York; had that instrument been published in April instead

of July, he would not have been chosen; and yet, despite the fever of

partisan feeling, he made no removals. At the close of this memorable

year, Washington died: that illustrious man held no man in greater

esteem than Jay: to him and Hamilton he had submitted his Farewell

Address: when the former's term of office expired, he determined to

retire; and did so on the 1st of July, 1801, declining the reappointment

as Chief Justice, earnestly tendered him. He now removed to his paternal

estate at Bedford, in Westchester county, New York, to enjoy

long-coveted repose from public duties. Thenceforth his life was one of

dignified serenity and active benevolence. The superintendence of his

farm, co-operation in philanthropic enterprises, the amenities of

literature, the consolations of religion, and the graces of hospitality

congenially occupied his remaining years--years abounding in respect

from his countrymen, and the satisfactions of culture, integrity, and

faith. He rebuilt the family mansion, occasionally made visits on

horseback to New York and Albany. Now zealous in building up a church,

and now benignly considerate of a dependant's welfare--loyal and happy

in his domestic relations, interested in the welfare of both nation and

neighborhood, and preserving his intimacy with the classics and the

Scriptures--the last thirty years of John Jay's life, in their peaceful

routine and gracious tenor, reflected with 'daily beauty' the sustained

elevation of mind and the consistent kindliness and rectitude of a

Christian gentleman. On the 17th of May, 1829, he died, crowned with

love and honor. The echoes of party strife had long died away from his

path: the clouds of party malice had faded from his horizon: all felt

and acknowledged, in his example and character, the ideal of an American

citizen. Not as a brilliant but as a conscientious man, not as a

wonderfully gifted but as an admirably well-balanced mind, not as an

exceptional hero but as a just, prudent, faithful, and benignant human

being--true to the best instincts of religion, the highest principles of

citizenship, the most pure aspirations of character--are cherished the

influence and memory of Jay.

His personal appearance is familiar to us through the masterly portraits

of Stuart: that in judicial robes has long been a favorite examplar of

this eminent artist, exhibiting as it does his best traits of expression

and color: although destitute of those vivid tints which Stuart

reproduced with such marvellous skill, the keen eyes, fine brow,

aquiline nose, pointed chin, and hair tied behind and powdered, with the

benign intelligence pervading the whole, render this an effective

subject for such a pencil: it is a face in which high moral and

intellectual attributes, dignity, rectitude, and clear perception

harmoniously blend: the lineaments and outline are decidedly Gallic: one

thinks, in looking at the portrait, not only of the able jurist,

Christian gentleman, and patriot--but also of his Huguenot ancestor, who

fought at Boyne, urbanely accepted exile rather than compromise faith,

and suffered persecution with holy patience and adaptive energy of

intellect and character.

The political opinions of Jay were obnoxious to a large party of his

countrymen; but had we not so many examples in history and experience of

the blind prejudice and malicious injustice generated by faction, it

would seem incredible, as we contemplate, in the impartial light of

retrospective truth, his character and career, that any imaginable

diversity of views on questions of state policy, could have bred such

false and fierce misconstruction in reference to one whose every memory

challenges such entire respect and disinterested admiration. As it is,

the record of his life, the influence of his character seem to borrow

new brightness from the evidences of partisan calumny found in the more

casual records of the past. Singularly intense and complicated is the

history of the period when Jay's prominence and activity in the

political world were at their height. On the one hand, the triumph of

freedom in the New World; on the other, the atrocities committed in her

sacred name in the Old: the American and French Revolutions, considered

in regard to their origin, development, and results, seem to have

brought to a practical test all principles of government and elements of

civic life inherent in human society: so that they have since afforded

the tests and illustrations of the most enlightened publicists and

statesmen, and now yield the most familiar and emphatic precedents for

political speculation and faith. In England, Pitt, Burke, Fox, and

Mackintosh represented, with memorable power, the opposing elements of

conservatism and reform, of social order and revolution, of humanity and

of authority; while in America, Hamilton, Adams, Morris, Jay, and other

leading Federalists, repudiated the license and condemned the

encroachments of France, as Jefferson and his followers advocated the

French republic on abstract principles of human rights and as having

legitimate claims upon American gratitude. No small part of the

bitterness exhibited toward Jay by the latter party arose from his

having testified, with Rufus King, that Genet intended to appeal from

the Government to the people of the United States--an audacious purpose

on the part of the French envoy, which excited the just indignation of

every citizen whose self-respect had not been quenched in the flame of

political zeal: accordingly he, to a peculiar extent, 'shared the odium

which the French Revolution had infused into the minds of its admirers:'

partial to the spirit if not the letter of the English constitution,

convinced by the absolute moral necessity of a strong central

Government, an enlightened and strenuous advocate of law, a thorough

gentleman, and a sincere Christian--his undoubted claim to the

additional distinction of pure patriot did not save him from the

aristocratic imputations, which professed champions of popular rights

then and there attached to all men who recognized as essential to social

order and progress, respect for and allegiance to justly constituted

authorities in government and society: jealousy of the rights of the

people was the ostensible motive of a political opposition to Jay,

which, at this day and with all the evidence before us, seems

inexplicable until we remember how the mirage of party fanaticism

distorts the vision and perverts the sympathies of men.

But to a well-poised, clear-sighted, upright character like his, the

storms of faction seemed innocuous: how candid is his own confession of

faith, how just his reasoning, and enlightened his principles, and

patriotic his motives, as revealed in every act, state and judicial

paper, recorded conversation, and private letter! 'Neither courting nor

dreading public opinion,' he writes (in his account of the Spanish

mission), 'on the one hand, nor disregarding it on the other, I joined

myself to the first assertors of the American cause, because I thought

it my duty; and because I considered caution and neutrality, however

secure, as being no less wrong than dishonorable.' As he had espoused

the cause deliberately, he served it conscientiously, and met the

difficulties in the way of organizing the Federal Government with

philosophical candor: 'It was a thing,' he observes, in his first

contribution to the 'Federalist,' 'hardly to be expected that in a

popular revolution, the minds of men should stop at the happy mean which

marks the boundary between power and privilege, and combines the energy

of government with the security of private right.'

An aesthetical student and delineator of character remarks that 'where we

recognize in any one an image of moral elevation, which seems to us, at

the first glance, unique and transcendent, I believe that, on careful

examination, we shall find that among his coevals, or in the very nature

of the times, those qualities which furnish their archetype in him were

rife and prevalent.'[16] The highest class of American statesmen and

patriots, and especially those grouped around the peerless central

figure of Washington, afford striking evidence of the truth of this

observation. A certain spirit of disinterested integrity and devotion,

an elevated and consistent tone of feeling and method of action alike

distinguished them; and nothing can be imagined more violently in

contrast therewith than the inadequate standard of judgment and scope of

criticism adopted by those who, actuated by partisan zeal and guided by

narrow motives, apply to such characters the limited gauge of their own

insight and estimation--endeavoring to atone by microscopic accuracy for

imbecility in fundamental principles.' Hence the foreign publicist of

large research and precise historical knowledge, the scholar of broad

and earnest sympathies, the patriot of generous and tenacious

principles, find in these exemplars of civic virtue objects of permanent

admiration; while many of their self-appointed commentators, entrenched

in pedantic or political dogmas, and devoid of comprehensive ideas and

true magnanimity, fail to recognize and delight in depreciating

qualities with which they have no affinity, and whose legitimate

functions they ignore or pervert--for 'Folly loves the martyrdom of

Fame.' With all due allowance for honest differences of opinion as to

political or religious creeds, for diversities of taste and education,

there yet remains to the truly humane, wise, and liberal soul, an

instinctive sense of justice, veneration for rectitude, love of the

beautiful and the true, which keeps alive their veneration and quickens

their higher sympathies despite the venom of faction and the blindness

of prejudice; and thus causes the elemental in character to maintain its

lawful sway whatever may be the inferences of partisan logic or the

dicta of personal opinion. Goethe's invaluable rule of judging every

character and work of art by its own law is ever present to their minds,

and they find a satisfaction in the spontaneous tribute of love and

honor to real genius and superior worth, all the more grateful because

there is not entire sympathy of sentiment and creed; their homage and

faith are as disinterested as they are sincere.

An eminent English novelist has indicated with genial emphasis, in one

of his essays, how much more wonderful as a psychological phenomenon is

the clairvoyance of imagination than that ascribed to mesmerism: since,

by the former, writers of genius describe with verisimilitude, and

sometimes with a moral accuracy such as we can scarcely believe to

originate in the creative mind alone, all the traits and phases of a

scene, an event, or a character, the details of which are lost in dim

tradition or evaded by authentic history. Shakspeare is cited as the

memorable example of this intellectual prescience. There is, however,

another species of foresight and insight whereby the logic of events is

anticipated, and great principles embraced before the multitude are

prepared for their adoption; reformers and statesmen are thus in advance

of their age, and through high ethical judgment and the inspiration of

rectitude, see above the clouds of selfishness and beyond the limits of

egotism, into the eternal truth of things. It was this wisdom, sustained

by, if not born of, integrity and disinterestedness, that distinguished

the highest class of our Revolutionary and Constitutional statesmen,

culminating in Washington, and in no one of his contemporaries more

manifest than in John Jay. We have alluded to the comprehensive and

sagacious scope of his various state papers and judicial decisions,

based invariably upon the absolute principles of equity; and the same

traits are as obvious in his correspondence and occasional writings: but

recently there was found among his papers a charge to the grand jury at

Richmond, Virginia, in which are expressed the most authentic principles

of international drawn from natural law, at a period and in a country

where the former had not been codified or even vaguely understood; and

so practical as to be of direct application to the exigencies of the

present hour. At the root of these convictions was a profound religious

faith. No one of the early American statesmen, for instance, has left on

record a more clear and just statement of his views of slavery;--that

foul blot on the escutcheon of the republic was ever before the eyes and

conscience of Jay; he sought not to evade, but to make apparent its

inevitable present shame and future consequences, and argued for a

prospective abolition clause in the Constitution. The events of the last

three years are a terrible and true response to his warnings. 'Till

America,' he wrote, 'comes into this measure (emancipation) her prayers

to heaven will be impious. I believe God governs the world, and I

believe it is a maxim in His as in our courts, that those who ask for

equity ought to do it.' He set the example in the manumission of a boy

then his legal property, and was the president of the first anti-slavery

society, bequeathing the cause to his descendants, who have faithfully

acquitted themselves of the once contemned but now honored trust, for

three generations; for his son succeeded him in the office, his grandson

has been and is its strenuous advocate, and his great-grandson now

confronts the slaveholding rebels in the Army of the Potomac. His

intelligent and patriotic fellow citizens realized and recognized the

faith and probity whence arose his moral courage and his clear mental

vision, 'His life,' says Sullivan, 'was governed by the dictates of an

enlightened Christian conscience.' One of his last letters was in reply

to the congratulation of the corporation of New York that he lived to

witness the fiftieth anniversary of our national independence, and an

invitation to join in its commemoration; too feeble, from advanced age,

to meet their wishes in this respect, in gratefully declining he thus

bore testimony to his life-long convictions: 'The most essential means

of securing the continuance of our civil and religious liberties is

always to remember with reverence and gratitude the source from which

they flow?' We can readily appreciate the literal truth of Verplanck's

observation, when death canonized such a character: 'A halo of

veneration seemed to encircle him, as one belonging to another world,

though lingering among us: the tidings of his death were received with

solemn awe.'

Jay cherished a firm belief in Providence, confirmed by his long life of

varied experience and thoughtful observation. Proverbially courteous and

urbane, he was, at the same time, inflexible in the withdrawal of all

confidence when once deceived or disappointed in character. Clear and

strong in his religious convictions, he was none the less free from

intolerance; he enjoyed communion with a Quaker neighbor as well as

correspondence with clerical friends of different persuasions, though

himself a stanch Episcopalian.

Underlying a singularly contained demeanor and aptitude for calm and

serious investigations, there was a vein of pleasant humor which

enhanced the charm of his intimate companionship; bold, independent, and

tenacious in opinion, when once formed, he was perfectly modest in

personal bearing and intercourse; his mind was more logical than severe

in temper, more vigorous than versatile, judicial in taste and tone,

with more precision than eagerness; and his temperament united the

gravity of a cultivated and thoughtful with the vivacity and amenity of

a harmonious and cheerful nature. Like Washington and Morris, he was

fond of agricultural pursuits; and like them, his example as a statesman

seems to acquire new force and beauty from the long and contented

retirement from official life that evinced the plenitude of his own

resources, and evidenced how much more a sense of public duty than

political ambition had been the motive power of his civic career. It is

this which distinguishes the first-class representative men of our

country from the mere politicians; we feel that their essential

individuality of character and genius was superior to the accidents of

position; that their intrinsic worth and real dignity required no

addition from fame or fortune--that they are nobler than their offices,

superior to their popularity, above their external relation to the

parties and functions illustrated by their talents, and made memorable

by their integrity.

FOOTNOTES:

[13] 'Life and Letters of Washington Irving,' by Pierre M. Irving. New

York: G. P. Putnam.

[14] Elements of International Law. By Henry Wheaton. Edited by W.B.

Laurens. Boston: Little, Brown & Co.

[15] The Federalist. Edited by H. B. Dawson. New York: C. Scribner.

[16] 'Caxtoniana.'

A SIGH.

How can I live, my love, so far from thee,

Since far from thee my spirit droops and dies?

Who is there left, my love, for me to see,

Since beauty is concentrate in thine eyes?

My only life is sending thee my sighs,

Which, as sweet birds fly home from deserts lone,

Fly swift to thee as each swift moment flies,

Uprising from the current of my moan.

But closed is still thy heart of cruel stone,

And my poor sighs drop murdered at thy feet,

For which, while I in grief do sigh and groan,

New hosts arise to meet a death so sweet,

Ah! love, give scorn; for if love thou shouldst give,

How could I love thee in thy sight, and live?

THE ANTIQUITY OF MAN.

A PHILOSOPHIC DEBATE.

_A._ I would like to hear your opinions regarding the antiquity of our

race: geologists are daily becoming bolder and more unhesitating in

their assertions on the subject; and we are fast drifting toward

conclusions that seem to startle the religious world, and threaten to

upset our confidence in that Book which we have been accustomed to

regard with profoundest reverence.

_B._ Never, sir, never: the hand of true science can never rise as the

antagonist of revelation: revelation, rightly understood, must ever find

in science a brother, a protector, a friend.

_A._ How would you maintain your position, if the geologists should

arrive at a final conclusion on the subject, and declare positively that

men existed in the world twenty or thirty thousand years ago?

_B._ They have arrived at such a conclusion already; that is to say,

they have, in a stratum which cannot be less than twenty thousand years

old, unearthed some skeletons of a mammal resembling man. But let these

skeletons resemble ours ever so closely, I, for one, am not prepared to

concede that these creatures, when they existed, were men in the sense

that we are. Revelation declares quite explicitly that the present race

is not more than six thousand years old.

_A._ What theory, then, must we adopt respecting these human-shaped

fossils? Why do you deny that they were men like us?

_B._ Tell me what a human being is, and I will answer your query.

_A._ The definition would be a somewhat prolix one.

_B._ It will be sufficient for our purpose that you admit two points

regarding the existing race.

_A._ The first?

_B._ That man _has_ a body.

_A._ Good. The second?

_B._ That man _is_ a soul, a spiritual being.

_A._ Good.

_B._ Well, then; answer me this: Were the men whose remains are now

being discovered, of a spiritual nature, and endowed with minds? Might

they not rather have been mere mammals, shaped indeed in the same

external mould as that in which the Creator intended, when the time

should come, to form his masterpiece; but not as yet tenanted by that

divine nature which would have entitled him to rank with the race

existing now?

_A._ Such questions it is hardly the province of geology to solve. But

it may fairly be asked, What right have we to suppose that beings ever

existed who were men only in shape, but who were destitute of the

spiritual nature? Does the Bible allow us any margin on which to base

such a belief? Do the sacred writers mention the creation of two human

races, one endowed with merely an animal nature, the other possessing a

spiritual nature?

_B._ Scripture does so in passages which I shall point out presently.

But first, concede to me this one point, admitted by many theologians

already, that in the first and second chapters of Scripture, the term

'day' has an ambiguous meaning--that the days were vast geological eras.

_A._ Granted.

_B._ The first human creation spoken of by Moses is that mentioned in

Gen. i. 27, where, immediately after recording the creation of the

inferior animals, it is said that 'God created man in his own image,'

etc. Thus the visible and external creation has received its top and

climax: the animals have found a master. After that, we are told that

'the evening and the morning were the sixth day.' Then the second

chapter is opened, and the seventh day is described as forming a vast

interval of rest.

_A._ All true.

_B._ Now look at the seventh verse of this second chapter. The words

are: 'And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and

breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and he became a living

soul.' Now I regard this passage as referring to a creation quite

distinct from that of the first chapter.

_A._ Theologians have been in the habit of considering the two passages

as descriptive of the same act.

_B._ I am aware of it. But by what right have they done so? Everywhere

else in Genesis we find events recorded in chronological order, and

there is no reason why the historian should in this instance commit the

irregularity of passing from the end of the seventh day to the beginning

of the sixth: it is certainly much more likely that in the story of the

second chapter and seventh verse he has passed on to an event which

transpired at the close of the seventh day, or, still more probably, on

the _first_ day of a new series. And if it were so, we would thus have,

in the time of this second and spiritual creation, a beautiful symbol of

a more recent first-day's-work, when manifestation was made of a life

far nobler than Adam's.

_A._ Your parallel is not without beauty, and, therefore, not without

weight; but I cannot see enough of difference between the two accounts

to warrant the hypothesis that the first refers to an unspiritual man,

the second to a spiritual. The first account says that 'man was made in

God's image.' The second says of the man which it describes, that 'God

breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and he became a living

soul.'

_B._ We must not attach too much importance to the term 'God's image.'

The sacred writer might make use of such an expression merely to show

the excellency of the image or form of the body of this first human

race, whose frame, relatively to the inferior animals, was, _par

excellence_, God's image. And on the whole, the difference between the

two accounts is very wide and very important. The first passage does not

stand connected with the history of the present race at all: the second

does. In the former passage the creation of a _race_ is described, but

the _individual_ is not even named: in the latter we are not merely told

of a race, we are introduced to an individual. His name is given, and he

is connected with the existing race of mankind by a continuous history.

In speaking of the difference between the two passages, it were well to

consider that, till of late, there has been no reason to suspect their

real significancy, _i. e._, to suppose that they spoke of two creations

and two races. But now that the proofs of a pre-Adamite race are fast

accumulating upon us, it were well to inquire whether God's revelation

has not anticipated the story which the strange hieroglyphics of his

finger are now unfolding. The philologist and the geologist are each

deciphering the same story in two different books, that are equally

divine. It remains to be seen which will be the first to read correctly.

_A._ The account in the second chapter certainly speaks explicitly

enough of the creation of the soul or spirit.

_B._ Yes; and observe this: that the seventh day, a mighty geological

era, has elapsed between the two creations--a period long enough for the

first race to pass entirely away, leaving behind them as their only

memorials a few skeletons, to be dug up here and there in the nineteenth

century of the Christian era. When the last specimen of the anterior

race had been long dead, God created the new man, 'breathed into his

nostrils the breath of life,' and gave him a mind and a name to

distinguish him from the former race that had borne the same image.

_A._ Of course we cannot expect geologists to discriminate between the

two races, seeing they differed only by the latter having a spiritual

nature, while the former had not.

_B._ Of course not.

_A._ Perhaps, then, there is, after all not so much absurdity as has

been supposed in the oriental traditions of pre-Adamite kings.

_B._ It need not surprise us that there should, among primitive nations,

exist some traditionary vestiges of the first race: and such traditions

were probably derived from some very reliable source. But be that as it

may, I am not afraid to trust the settlement of the entire question to

the arbitration of time.

WHO KNOWS?

Who knows but the hope that we bury to-day

May be the seed of success to-morrow?

We could not weep o'er the coffined clay

If a lovelier life it should never borrow.

Did we know that the worm had conquered all,

That Death had forever secured his plunder,

Not a sigh would escape, not a tear would fall,

For the human heart must burst asunder.

Death mimics life, and life feigns death:

What parts them but a fleeting breath?

Who knows but the love that in silence broods,

Slinking away to some lonely corner,

May yet, in the change of times and moods,

Sit proudly throned in the heart of the scorner?

I have seen a haughty soul destroy

The glittering prize that once it bled for;

I have seen the sad heart leap for joy,

And smiling grant what it vainly plead for:

True tears the flashing eye may wet,

The lip that curled may quiver yet.

Who knows but the dream that mocks our sleep

With visions that end in a sorrowful waking,

Leaving just enough of brightness to keep

Our souls from despair and our hearts from breaking,

May come in the heat of the midday glare,

Or the afternoon with its gorgeous splendor,

Palpable, real, but not less fair,

With airs as soft and touch as tender?

Morn breaks on the longest night of sorrow,

And there is more than one to-morrow.

LITERARY NOTICES.

LINNET'S TRIAL. A Tale. By S. M., Author of 'Twice Lost.' Second

Edition. Loring, publisher, 319 Washington street, Boston. 1864.

A moral and interesting novel. There is a fascinating freshness and

originality about it, pervaded by genial humor and strong common sense,

and an utter absence of all common and clap-trap sensational expedients.

The plot is simple, but well conceived; the characters consistent and

clear cut, the incidental remarks tolerant and full of spirit. We know

no more true and delightful character-painting than that of Rose. Her

shyness, exclusiveness, pettishness, and ignorance are delicious in the

rosy girl of sixteen. Her friendship with Linnet, a woman of imaginative

and impassioned stamp, is natural in conception, and skilfully rendered.

Linnet is expansive and sympathetic, her sweet and all-pervading

influence is the true charm of the book. The woman of beauty and genius

ripens into the perfect wife, strengthening weak hands and reviving

courage in weary, doubting hearts. 'Linnet is like an alabaster vase,

only seen to perfection when lighted up from within.'

We heartily recommend 'Linnet' to all readers of fiction, who like to

study character through its rainbow sheen.

PHANTOM FLOWERS. A Treatise on the Art of Producing Skeleton

Leaves. Boston: J. E. Tilton & Co. 1864.

A complete treatise on this beautiful art, in which typography and

illustrations are alike perfect. The directions given are ample and

accurate. The contents are: Chap. 1. Anatomy of a Leaf; Green and Dried

Leaves. 2. Preparing the Leaves and Flowers. 3. Bleaching the Leaves and

Seed Vessels. 4. Arranging the Bouquets. 5. Illustrated List of Plants

for Skeletonizing. 6. Seed Vessels. 7. The Wonders and Uses Of a Leaf.

8. Leaf Printing. 9, Commercial Value of the Art; Preservation of

Flowers. We have accurate cuts of the skeletonized leaves of the

American Swamp Magnolia, Silver Poplar, Aspen Poplar, Tulip Poplar,

Norway Maple, Linden and Weeping Willow, European Sycamore, English Ash,

Everlasting Pea, Elm, Deutzia, Beech, Hickory, Chestnut, Dwarf Pear,

Sassafras, Althea, Rose, Fringe Tree, Dutchman's Pipe, Ivy and Holly,

with proper times of gathering and individual processes of manipulation

for securing success with each. 'Fanciful though expressive,' says our

author, 'is the appellation of 'Phantom' or 'Spiritual' Flowers; it was

given to the first American specimens by those who produced them, and it

has since become so general as to be everywhere understood and accepted

as their most appropriate name. Referring to the process by which these

flowers are prepared, a Christian friend beautifully used them as

emblems of the Resurrection, and as illustrating the ideas--'Sown a

natural body, raised a spiritual body,' and, 'This corruptible must put

on incorruption, and this mortal immortality.''

All who practise this beautiful and _lucrative_ art with any hope of

success, should purchase 'Phantom Flowers,' the result of _five years'_

industrious and intelligent effort.

POEMS: With Translations from the German of Geibel and Others. By

_Lucy Hamilton Hooper_. Philadelphia: Frederick Leypoldt.

These translations are of far more than ordinary merit. From his

exceeding and tender simplicity, Geibel is very difficult to render

aright: a word too much will frequently ruin the stanza in which it may

have been introduced almost necessarily to fill up the rhythm or

consummate the rhyme; a single injudicious ornament will spoil the whole

effect of the cadenced emotions of which his poems consist. We have

tried Geibel, and the songs of Heine, and know the difficulties; we

heartily congratulate our authoress on her success. Nor are her own

poems less beautiful. Musically rhythmed, delicately worded, and purely

felt, they commend themselves to the reader. They do not soar into the

region of abstract thought; they are without pretension, mysticism, or

effort. She challenges no crown, her range is limited, but our hearts

swell and throb with the emotions she sings. A single specimen will best

elucidate our meaning:

BABY LILY.

She was a purer, fairer bud

Than summer's sun uncloses;

Spring brought her with the violets;

She left us with the roses.

A little pillow, where the print

Of her small head yet lingers;

A silver coral, tarnished o'er

With clasp of tiny fingers;

A mound, the rose bush at the head

Were all too long to measure;--

And this is _all_ that Heaven has left

Of her, our little treasure.

O human pearl, so pale and pure!

0 little lily blossom!

The angels lent a little space

To grace a mortal bosom.

The azure heavens bend above,

Unpitying and cruel;

A casket all too cold and vast

To shrine our little jewel.

We cannot picture her to mind,

An angel, crowned and holy;

A fair and helpless human thing,

Our hearts still keep her solely.

Sleep, baby, calmly in thy nest

Amid the fading flowers,

The while we strive to learn the words:

'God's will be done--not ours!'

HISTORY OF THE ROMANS UNDER THE EMPIRE. By CHARLES MERIVALE, B. D.,

late Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge. From the fourth

London Edition. With a copious Analytical Index. Vol. IV. New York:

D. Appleton & Co., 443 & 445 Broadway.

The character of this work is so high and so widely known that it is

only necessary to remind or inform our readers of the appearance of the

fourth volume to awaken their interest. Merivale succeeds in making his

subject intensely interesting. Beginning with the anticipations of a

constitutional monarchy, the indifference of the citizens on political

questions, the legislative measures to encourage marriage, the efforts

of Augustus to revive the national sentiment, this volume carries us

quite through his important reign, with all its great events and

domestic dramas. We have descriptions of the nature of life in Rome,

places of recreation, exhibitions of wild beasts and gladiators, the

schools of the rhetoricians, as well as studies of the authors, Livy,

Virgil, Horace, Propertius, Tibullus, Ovid, each reflecting in his own

way the sentiments of the Augustan age. It is a complex and important

period of history, and nobly treated by our author. Brutus and Cassius

evoke no false sympathy. The character of Augustus is closely analyzed,

and the sketch of the Roman dominion, in its political, social, and

intellectual outlines, is able and interesting.

RECEIVED.

CHRISTIAN EXAMINER. No. CCXLIV. July, 1864. Contents: Character and

Historical Position of Theodore Parker; The New King of Greece;

Robert Browning; Marsh's 'Man and Nature;' Robert Lowell; Renan's

Critical Essays; Edward Livingston; A Word on the War; Review of

Current Literature.

NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW. No. CCIV. July, 1864. Contents: A Physical

Theory of the Universe; The Property and Rights of Married Women;

The Philosophy of Space and Time; The Constitution, and it Defects;

The Navy of the United States; Our Soldiers; A National Currency;

The Rebellion: its Causes and Consequences; Critical Notices.

THE UNIVERSALIST QUARTERLY. July, 1864. Contents: When are the Dead

Raised? The Contraband; Faith and Works; Charles the Bold; In

Memoriam: a Tribute to T. Starr King; General Review; Recent

Publications; Synopsis of the Quarterlies.

BOSTON REVIEW. No. XXII. July, 1864. Contents: The Relations of Sin

and Atonement to Infant Salvation; The Publication of Free

Descriptions of Vice; The Rabbis, the Mischna, and the Talmuds, and

their Aid in New Testament Studies; Huxley on Man's Place in

Nature; Teachings of the Rebellion; Pascal; Short Sermons; Literary

Notices; The Round Table.