most easily and quickly accomplish his end. With a fearless nature and abundant faith in himself, he was heedless of consequences.、/

An instance of his manipulation of the rules is seen in the way in which he stopped debate on the declaration of war, May 29, 1812. Randolph had the floor. He was first informed by the Speaker that he could not proceed unless he submitted a motion to the House. He complied with the requirement, and again raised his voice to debate the question. Again he was interrupted by the ruling that there could be no debate until the House had consented to consider the proposition. The House took its cue and refused consideration; and Randolph, the thorn in the flesh of the majority, was thus thrust from the floor.

In a later instance, also involving John Randolph, Clay accomplished his ends only by a piece of decidedly sharp practice. On March 3, 1820, Randolph moved that the vote of the preceding day on the bill embodying the Missouri Compromise be reconsidered. Clay decided the motion out of order, "until the ordinary business of the morning... be disposed of." A little later Randolph moved "that the House retain in their possession the Missouri Bill until the period should arrive when... a motion to reconsider should be in order." This motion, also, the Speaker refused to entertain. And when at last Randolph was allowed to bring up the Compromise, the Speaker suavely stated that "the proceedings of the House on that bill had been communicated to the Senate by the Clerk, and that, therefore, the motion to reconsider could not be entertained."

Clay's success in ruling the House was not due simply to the fact that he realized the parliamentary power of his office, but even more to his quickness in using his position so as to influence the mind of the House. Thus the duty of stating the question in the confusion of debate was one particularly suited to Clay's gifts. His ability as a parliamentarian is justly summed up in Mr. Winthrop's criticism when he says: "He was no painstaking student of parliamentary law, but more frequently found the rules of his govern

ance in his own instinctive sense of what was practicable and proper than in Hatsell's Precedents,' or 'Jefferson's Manual.'" It is true that no decision made by Henry Clay was ever reversed by the House. But it is not true, as his biographers tell us, that harmony was the chief characteristic of his service. The House was "harmonious," not because it always agreed with the Speaker, but because he usually mastered it.

Clay's leadership in Congress was asserted not only in his opportunities as presiding officer, but also by his continued activity as an individual member. The Speaker of the House of Commons expects to give up his rights as a member for the sake of sitting in the Chair. Our first Speakers wavered between the English parliamentary conception of the Chair and certain traditions inherited from colonial practice. Henry Clay in accepting the Speakership never for a moment expected to deny himself the right to vote, and to exercise his unrivalled talents as a persuasive speaker. He at once took ground that tended greatly to strengthen the position of the Speaker. When casting his vote, he never considered his position as presiding officer, but demanded and obtained the full force of a member's vote. Every subsequent Speaker has, therefore, known that in accepting an election he forfeited. no privilege. Next to voting, the principal right of a member is to debate. Many of Clay's biographers assert that he frequently left the Chair when affairs were not going as he wished, in order that he might give a new character to proceedings. A careful search in the "Journals and Debates of Congress," however, reveals no evidence of Clay's speaking when the House was not in Committee of the Whole; and in Committee of the Whole the Speaker has the status of a private member, and may both speak and vote as he pleases. Henry Clay established the precedent of the Speaker exercising the right so freely that he virtually employed his prestige as Speaker on most of the important measures that came up. The precedent, therefore, established the tradition that a party in putting a leader in the Chair

does not deprive itself of his services on the floor.

Clay went even further. It was halı understood that all important affairs were to be discussed in Committee of the Whole in order that Clay's voice should not be lost. Once at least the records show that this was the object of going into Committee; and on one occasion Clay seems to have ventured on an implied reproof to the House for having omitted this attention to him. The House was in Committee, on the raising of an additional military force. The Chairman was about to put the question on the Committee rising, when Clay announced that he must delay them longer, and proceeded to say that

"When the subject of the bill was before the House in the form of a resolution it was the pleasure of the House to discuss it while he was in the Chair. He did not complain of this course of proceeding; for he did not at any time wish the House from considerations personal to him to depart from the mode of transacting the public business which they thought best. He merely adverted to it as an apology for the trouble he was about to give the Committee. He was at all times disposed to take his share of responsibility, and he felt that he owed it to his constituents and to himself to submit to their attention a few observations."

Other speakers have been potent in the Chair; and other Speakers, as Mr. Carlisle and Mr. Reed, have made speeches from the floor. But no other Speaker has ever so combined the functions of a moderator, a member, and a leader. Clay often at once framed the policy of the House, appointed the man who should guide proceedings from the Chair of the Committee, and himself took the management and control of the debate. The vigor and efficiency of Clay's rule are apparent in the contrast between the Congress of 1814, when Clay was absent in Europe, and that of 1815, when he was again in the Chair. While the first was notably incompetent, the latter has been characterized as the most active Congress that ever sat at Washington.

Clay's political influence and leadership extended far beyond Congress. He not only led the House, but during the first period of his rule the whole government seemed to fall under his sway.

Clay's Speakership may be divided into two periods, corresponding to the two presidential administrations of Madison. and Monroe. Let us glance at the relative positions of Speaker and President in those periods. The comparison shows in the most striking manner to how great an extent the Speaker was a political officer. When Clay entered the Speakership his policy included war as its first object! To Henry Clay more than any one else we owe the war of 1812. The committees were at once constituted for war. Pressure was brought to bear on the Senate and Executive. On one occasion at least we know that Clay had a conference with the President, and the result of that conference was the confidential message of April 1, recommending an embargo of sixty days. The President was not opposed to war, but was timid, and he resigned, with apparent willingness, the conduct of the foreign policy to the Speaker of the House of Representatives. With characteristic wit, Randolph summed up the relation of Clay and Madison thus:

"After you have raised these twenty-five thousand men - shall we form a Committee of Public Safety to carry on the war, or shall we depute the power to the Speaker? Shall we declare that the Executive not being capable of discerning the public interest, or not having spirit to pursue it, we have appointed a committee to take the President and Cabinet into custody?"

The unusual appointment of the Speaker as one of the commissioners to execute the treaty of peace was a recognition of his services as originator and supporter of the war.

From the very beginning of Monroe's administration, in 1817, the case was quite different. Clay at once assumed a position of open hostility to the President. Monroe refused to receive his course of action from the Speaker. In form the contest for supremacy was between the President and Congress: but Clay's practical success shows that when the legislative branch gains over the executive, it is the Speaker who gets the spoils of the battle. It shows also that in any such struggle the Speaker has the greater chance to win. Clay exerted all his powers in favor of internal improvements, a protective tariff, recognition of

the South American governments, and the Missouri Compromise. His proposal to send a minister to the South American Republics was clearly an encroachment on executive powers. Yet all these great measures were carried through, little checked by the vetoes interspersed as warnings by both Madison and Monroe. It is not too much to say, therefore, that Clay was the most powerful man in the nation from 1811 to 1825. That he felt satisfied with the opportunities which the Speakership offered him is evident from his refusal of various executive appointments. In 1825, when he finally left the House, his chief reason was probably that the Speakership, however influential an office, is not a stepping-stone to the Presidency.

Clay's use of the Speakership satisfied not only himself but the House. It is a fact of the greatest significance that the cries of tyrant and despot, so often raised of late years against Speakers less domineering, were not then heard. Yet Clay added to the previously existing the previously existing body of Speaker's powers much more than has been added by any subsequent Speaker, even including Mr. Reed; and neither he nor any one else thought of excusing his actions on the ground of "the valuable services he had rendered to parliamentary law." He did what he did confessedly as leader of his party, to push through the measures he had at heart. Yet no voice was raised to cry "abuse of office." His enemies found nothing in his conception of the Speakership to denounce. His friends considered it a special claim to admiration. "His enlarged and commanding mind," says Mr. Foster,

"could not be content to sit in inglorious ease and maintain the good order of an assembly, without endeavoring to infuse wisdom into their deliberations and aiding in an attempt to guide and influence their decisions."

We ask, and with the recent events of the Speakership in our minds we ask with an eager curiosity, how Henry Clay was able to carry out his conception of the Speakership. A part of our answer may be found in personal qualifications which made him peculiarly fitted for the office. He displayed in the first place

a remarkable tact, a tact which showed itself not only in his treatment of members, but also in the interpretation of his own privileges. Few Speakers have known so well as Henry Clay how to measure their power so as to obtain the utmost possible, and yet not go beyond that unwritten standard of "fairness" which exists in every House of Representatives, how to observe the subtle yet essential difference between "political" and "partisan" action. His appointments of Chairmen of Committees, and of Chairmen of the Committee of the Whole were almost invariably from his party friends. Yet he sometimes made exceptions; perhaps the most graceful was the placing of Daniel Webster in 1823, at the head of the important Committee on Judiciary. Still more was his success due to that wonderful personal fascination which few could withstand. His manner in the Chair must have been the ideal bearing of a presiding officer. Although prompt, firm and decisive, his invariable courtesy and geniality prevented offence. All testify to the marvellous charm of his voice and manner, which attracted attention, awakened sympathy, and compelled obedience. had a bold and commanding spirit which imposed its will upon those around him. He carried all before him by the irresistible force of his nature. Thus his personal magnetism combined with his imperious nature to give him complete. ascendency over his own party, and the easy leadership of the House.

He

Like many other American institutions, the development of the Speakership has depended in part upon political ideas current when the government was founded, in part on the men who have filled the office and given form to unwritten laws, in part on the rise of new conditions which require a new system. The political tradition has been so strongly for an impartial Chairman, that political writers still speak of it as the normal state of things, from which Mr. Reed and others wilfully depart. But meanwhile, the counter tradition of a political Speaker has been unconsciously and involuntarily established. Perhaps the next step will be its deliberate and

formal acceptance. From colonial times on there was some notion of a Speaker as party leader. Clay seized upon this notion and developed it. He was keen enough to see and strong enough to grasp the full power of his office; and his influence came at a time when there was still a choice between the two ideas which have struggled for supremacy in the development of the Speakership. It was Henry Clay more than any other individual who determined the direction which that office should take. Within twenty-three years after the meeting of the first Congress, Clay led the people to a willing acquiescence in the political idea. When eighty years later a Speaker arose with a similar purpose, though with less tact in effecting it, his action was called revolutionary, and moralists have attempted to prove from it the degeneration of our Republic since its foundation. This brief survey of Clay's administration, however, shows that Mr. Reed's enemies are certainly wrong in one respect, that is in their assertion that his conception of the Speakership is an innovation in the history of the House of Representatives. It shows that the Speakership from the first tended to become what Clay made it; that in the early years of Congress it did not rest, as has been so often asserted, on the same basis as the present Speakership of the House of Commons. But Clay's successful and unquestioned use of extraordinary powers cannot be attributed solely to his great personality, since these have been reaffirmed by so many of his successors. Apparently, there is a force stronger than tradition and more permanent than personal influence, which tends to make the Speaker

a party and parliamentary leader. The war of 1812 brought out the necessity for leadership. The growing requirements of the House of Representatives made it necessary to lodge power somewhere. It seemed the only way out of many difficulties to give that power to the Speaker. Moreover, our whole history shows that even Republics must delegate power and responsibility to some one; and that the power of one man, chosen for two years and surrounded by a multitude of safeguards, is safer than the power of three hundred. Nothing in our history brings out more forcibly both the need of one-man power, and the opportunity which the Speakership offers for one-man power, than Henry Clay's administration. To say that the Speaker shall be no longer a political officer is either to confess an ignorance of the lines upon which our institutions are developing, or to propose legislative anarchy. Take away the Speaker's power and you apply the ineptitude of Macon's Speakership of 1809 to the complicated affairs of 1801.

There have indeed been a few Speakers, like Mr. Winthrop, who construed the privileges of the office narrowly and seem to have looked upon it as a parliamentary office to which were added a few political duties. But such a conception of the Speakership, however dignified and admirable, is clearly not in sympathy with the natural trend of our institutions. The men who will later be seen to have had the most influence on the office will probably be such men as Clay and Reed; men who have attempted - perhaps too ungently to adapt the office to the growth of the House and of the nation.

HE community of Shakers at Union Village, or "Shakertown" as it is irreverently dubbed by the "world" there-about, is the oldest Shaker settlement west of the Alleghanies. The community was established in 1805, when Cincinnati, thirty miles away, was a village of only a few hundred inhabitants, and when land was cheap and Indians plenty in what is now the garden spot of Ohio- the beautiful valley between the two Miamis.

The three "Witnesses," as their missionaries were called, who were sent out by the community at Mount Lebanon, New York, early in the year 1805, were received here by Malchas Worley, a prosperous farmer, who speedily became a convert to, and a "believer" in the Shaker doctrines, and in consequence consecrated himself and his property to their cause.

About this nucleus the community grew rapidly; and it may be mentioned, as an indication of the respect in which the memory of Malchas Worley is held by the society, that his dwelling still stands near the centre of the village, kept intact and in good repair.

Small as the community was at the beginning, few in numbers and weak financially, there was an element about it that speedily attracted many others. The simplicity and austerity of their lives, and the virtues of personal purity as taught and practised by them, were apparently more, attractive in that day than now. And perhaps the feeling that in union there was strength was of some effect in the new and thinly settled country.

They were fortunate in their choice of location, as their lands were very rich, and the country about them soon began to fill up rapidly. As new converts joined them, they added their lands and personal accumulations to the community fund, until finally they numbered a mem

bership of nearly six hundred; and possessed as common property, four thousand acres of excellent land, well stocked with cattle, swine, and horses, and improved with substantial buildings which could house them all comfortably.

This heyday of their prosperity was reached within twenty-five years from the beginning. Since then their decline in membership has been gradual, but sure. When Mr. Wordhoff visited the community in 1875, he reported their number at two hundred and fifteen. Now there are barely one hundred of them, and most of those who remain are far beyond the prime of life. Notwithstanding their numerical decline, they have continued to be thrifty managers, and in spite of it and of the pervading agricultural depression have kept their possessions intact.

Their industry is almost wholly in the line of agricultural pursuits. During the time that the membership was at the highest they were able to accumulate rapidly, idly, as they could perform all their own labor, and so were at no expense for wages; while the cost of their own maintenance, owing to simplicity of dress and habits, and because of perfect community of interest, was reduced to the smallest possible figure, consistent with comfort and decency. Now, this number being small, and the majority being past the age at which they can accomplish much physical labor, they have to employ a great deal of help in the farming operations.

A young face is now a rarity among them; desirable accessions have almost ceased, and there has been a pretty steady dropping out of the younger and middle-aged members, while death keeps busy among the older ones. It would seem that without the infusion of new blood and new life, that only youth can provide, the total extinction of the community will be only a question of time. But so great is their faith in the truth and vitality of their principle, that apparently they do not look upon such an ultimate