Chapter VIII: Act III

Sinfonie of Bach
Quartetto of Davaux for violino
Clarinetto Solo Concerto of Mahoy
Quartetto of Toeschi for Flauto
Sinfonie of Mardino

Of course, all the concerts given in New York were not on an equally high plane. Many of them were frankly popular and many mixed judiciously the popular with the serious. A large proportion of these were given at Vauxhall, Ranelagh, Columbia and other public gardens where it was necessary to cater to the taste of an assorted assemblage. On the whole, however, the musical taste of the New York public was remarkably good. Haydn seems to have been the favorite composer of the time and after him we notice most frequently the names of Pleyel, Handel, Corelli, Gossec, Stamitz, Gyrowetz, and Bach.[18]

The musical life of Philadelphia during the second half of the eighteenth century was apparently richer than in any other American city. There are no records of public concerts there before the year 1757, but after that date they became so suddenly common and maintained such a relatively high standard that the musical soil in which they grew must have been extremely fertile--notwithstanding the Quakers. Indeed, the musical taste of the Philadelphians seems to have been at once more eclectic and more discriminating than that of the citizens of Boston and New York. Besides Haydn, Pleyel, Handel, and the rest we find in their programs the names of Grétry, Boccherini, Viotti, Kreutzer, Paesiello, Sacchini, Cimarosa, Piccini, Gluck, and Mozart.[19] The programs were much less mixed than was customary in Boston and New York. We find fewer comic numbers and fewer songs to Mars and Bacchus, to larks and pining hearts and sighing breezes. And quite as much consideration was shown to the native American composer as is shown by the concert-givers of to-day. Consider the following program of the first Uranian Concert, given at the Reformed Church, in Race Street, on the 12th April, 1787:

Syllabus Authors
I. Martini's celebrated Overture
II. Jehovah reigns: an anthem from 97th Psalm Tuckey
III. Te Deum laudamus Arnold
IV. Violin Concerto By Mr. Phile of New York
V. I heard a great voice: an Anthem from Rev. XIV Billings
VI. Vital Spark: An Anthem on Mr. Pope's ode
'The dying Christian to his Soul' Billings
VII. Overture Artaxerxes Arne
VIII. Friendship thou charmer of the mind:
From Watts' Lyric Poems Lyon
IX. The Rose of Sharon: an Anthem from
2d of Canticles Billings
X. Flute Concerto By the Chevalier du Ponceau
XI. Sundry Scriptures: an Anthem on
the nativity of Christ Williams
XII. The Hallelujah chorus: on the extent and duration
of Christ's Government (from the 'Messiah') Handel

We may mention here the extraordinary Grand Concert given at the Reformed Church in Race Street on May 4, 1786, with a chorus of two hundred and twenty and an orchestra of fifty. Of course, such concerts were unusual in Philadelphia. Choruses of two hundred and twenty and orchestras of fifty were not then common, even in European capitals. But, as Mr. Sonneck has observed, such undertakings were not possible 'without a logical evolution of conditions,' and this concert throws a very favorable light on musical conditions in Philadelphia. Incidentally, we learn that nearly one thousand tickets were sold for the event, a remarkable showing for a city of about 40,000 people.

There was a very active musical life in the South during the eighteenth century, and it was much more diffused than in the Middle or New England colonies. A peculiar feature of the public concerts in the South was the frequency with which amateurs appeared as performers. We find the vocal part in one concert was taken by 'a gentleman who does it merely to oblige on this occasion.' In the advertisement of another we read that 'the gentlemen who are the best Performers, both in Town and Country, are so obliging as to assist ... on this Occasion.' Again we notice the announcement of a 'Concert of Vocal and Instrumental Musick to be performed by Gentlemen of the place, for the entertainment of all lovers of Harmony.' Such announcements were common. Of course, amateurs sometimes took part in concerts in the North, especially before the Revolution. As a rule, they were gentlemen of the king's army and navy, among whom the practice of music seems to have been sedulously cultivated. But it would appear that the proportion of practical amateur musicians was much greater in the South than elsewhere in America, and that fact alone speaks volumes for the culture of the Old Dominion.

Charleston was beyond doubt the leading Southern city in musical matters. We know definitely that public concerts were given there as early as 1732, and it is quite probable that they were given earlier. In 1762 was formed the St. Cæcilia Society,[20] an organization devoted to the cultivation of the best in music. It was the first musical society formed in America. The following program, given on the 6th March, 1794, under its patronage, will illustrate the taste of the people of Charleston:

Act 1st

Sinfonie Pleyel
Song, Mr. Chambers
Quartett Violin Pleyel
Song, Mr. Clifford
Overture Gretrie[?]

Act 2nd

Grand Overture (la Chasse) Gossec
Song, Mr. West
Sonata Pianoforte, Rondo, by Mrs. Sully
Duett, Mr. Chambers and Mrs. Chambers

Act 3d

Grand Overture Haydn
Song, Mr. Chambers
Concerto Violin, by Mr. Petit Viotti
Glee, Mr. Chambers, Mrs. Chambers and Mr. West.

It is noteworthy to find a symphony of Mozart on a program of March 9, 1797.

It would appear that the citizens of Baltimore were not quite so refined in their musical taste as their neighbors in Carolina. Nevertheless they enjoyed an active musical life. Concerts of fair quality were common enough, and we read also of such interesting things as the production in English of Pergolesi's _Serva Padrona_ in 1790.[21]

In Williamsburg, Fredericksburg, Richmond, Petersburg, Norfolk, Alexandria and elsewhere in Virginia there were public concerts given at an early period. Unfortunately there has not yet been unearthed much documentary evidence which would throw light on the early musical life of these cities. But from what we know of Charleston and Baltimore and from our general knowledge of conditions among the Southern colonists we should be inclined to say that the Virginia cities possessed a musical life quite creditable in proportion to their size. The same is true of Savannah and New Orleans. It must not be forgotten that, with the exceptions of Charleston and Baltimore, no Southern city had a population of more than ten thousand people. Most of them had very considerably less. Obviously it would be unfair to expect that they enjoyed metropolitan conditions.

IV

Enough, perhaps, has been said to show that the American colonists were not the musical barbarians they are so frequently and complacently pictured. Of course, European writers visiting the colonies almost invariably took occasion to incorporate in their literary works slighting references to the state of culture in America. The custom still obtains among literary visitors to these shores. Since the time of Columbus, apparently, it has been an unwritten law that European travellers must speak slightingly of American culture, just as American travellers must make uncomplimentary remarks about European hotel accommodations and transportation systems. Such comments are usually the result of a congenital incapacity to see more than one thing at one time. As a rule they are accurate, but they do not mean what they seem to mean. They are sentences detached from their context. A statement that there is no first-class symphony orchestra in New York would have a very different significance from a statement that there is no first-class symphony orchestra in Oskaloosa--though both sound alike to one who knows nothing about either New York or Oskaloosa. Equally ridiculous are the well-meant attempts to demonstrate the growth of our artistic stature by drawing parallels between the musical activity of the colonies and the musical activities of America to-day. In 1750 the population of Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Richmond, and Charleston combined was less than one hundred thousand, and even as late as 1800 it was little over two hundred thousand. If we are to be fair to the American colonists, we must take into consideration the conditions under which they lived, the youth of the country, its comparative isolation from the old-established centres of culture, the many and complex circumstances that operated to retard its æsthetic development. And if we take these things into consideration, we cannot fairly persevere in our supercilious attitude toward the musical life of eighteenth-century America.

There is another side to the picture, however. In spite of the undeniable growth of musical culture among the American people of the eighteenth century, it cannot be said that music had a really intimate meaning for them, that they had woven it into the web of their lives, that they had found in it a necessary form of expression. Art is created that way. It may be the folk-song of an ignorant peasant or the symphony of a Mozart or Beethoven. But always it is born of a need for personal expression. Music was not personal to the American colonists; it was still an exotic, a pleasure supplied from outside sources, a diversion which serious men might occasionally enjoy but to which they could not afford to devote serious attention. Even among a certain class of Americans of the present day this attitude persists to some degree. Music is not yet generally regarded as a profession for men. Men go into business; they become brokers, lawyers, or politicians; they even become newspaper reporters--but not musicians. Music is still _par excellence_ the avocation of long-haired, libidinous foreigners. We may, perhaps, without injustice trace this attitude to Puritan New England. The aristocracy of the South had the aristocratic point of view. Most Southern gentlemen were practical musicians. They were not, of course, professional musicians--gentlemen did not adopt professions, except that of arms. But music had a certain personal meaning for them. It was a graceful and elegant medium for the expression of their gallant, romantic and courtly sentiments. They could sing of arms and the red glow of wine and the red lips of women--all frankly important things in their lives, all supposedly unimportant things in the lives of the upright New Englanders. But, as a vehicle for the expression of profound and fundamental emotions, music had no meaning to them.

The aristocratic Southern point of view, however, did not impress itself on the mass of the American people; the New England point of view did. The psychological effect of New England on the rest of the country has been extraordinary. Certainly the New Englanders were fond of music; they encouraged it; they had considerable taste; they were glad to have their daughters take music lessons--music was a thoroughly ladylike accomplishment. When Priscilla spilled the 'Battle of Prague' _con brio_ over the 'forte piano' her performance brought undiluted joy to the parental heart. When Fil Trajetto played a concerto of Corelli the more cultivated Bostonian could justly appreciate the virtues of the composition and its performance. The people of New England had relatively as much taste and culture as the same class of people elsewhere. Nevertheless they did not feel music as a serious and necessary thing.

V

Such an attitude was most unfavorable to the growth of a native art. During the eighteenth century there were few native American musicians by profession. In the South the professional musicians were chiefly French, in the North chiefly English. As a consequence there were few American composers. Of course, many Americans manufactured music. Every civilized man at some period of his life has composed a tune or a poem or a play. It is as inevitable as the measles. The American colonists did not escape the infection. Many American compositions lie unidentified in the early collections of hymns and anthems; many more undoubtedly were denied even such an anonymous burial. We have already alluded to William Tuckey, whose anthem was included in the collection of James Lyon. Tuckey was organist of Trinity Church, New York. He has sometimes been called the first American composer, and he would be did he not happen to be born in Somersetshire, England. Many of Tuckey's contemporaries, such as Flagg, and undoubtedly others whose names have been forgotten, composed church music in the style of the period--the weak, insipid, undistinguished style of Tansur and Williams. We can easily afford to forget their efforts.

There are, however, a few American composers of this period whom we cannot afford to forget It is really impossible to say who was the first American composer, but the right to the title seems to be divided between Francis Hopkinson and James Lyon, natives of Philadelphia and Newark, N. J., respectively. Certainly they were the first of any importance. Hopkinson, a lawyer, poet, musician, inventor, painter, and signer of the Declaration of Independence, was one of the most remarkable men of his time. He was born in 1737, was graduated at the College of Philadelphia, received the degrees of Master of Arts and Doctor of Laws from that institution and the degree of Master of Arts, _gratiæ causa_, from the College of New Jersey. After his admission to the bar he held a number of public offices, became a delegate to the first Continental Congress and was appointed by that body to 'execute the business of the Navy under their direction.' He presided over the Admiralty Court of Pennsylvania from 1779 until its jurisdiction became vested in the United States and took an important part in the debates of the convention which framed the Constitution. We know little of his musical education, but the most important part of it seems to have been guided by James Bremner, while his taste was undoubtedly polished by subsequent visits to Europe. He was an able harpsichordist, we learn, and often deputized for Brenner as organist of Christ Church. In spite of his official duties he found time to promote musical education, to give concerts and to participate in frequent musicales at the home of Governor John Penn. His inventive turn found expression in an improved method of quilling a harpsichord, the application of a keyboard to the harmonica and a 'contrivance for the perfect measurement of time,' known as the Bell-harmonic.

The most important thing about Francis Hopkinson from our point of view, however, is that his song 'My Days Have Been so Wondrous Free,' dated 1759, is, as far as we know, the earliest secular American composition extant. It is included in a collection of songs made by Hopkinson which contains also several other specimens of his muse. They are pretty, simple, graceful, and somewhat amateurish. Among them is an anthem with figured bass--a rarity in early American music. Possibly Hopkinson was editor and part author of the 'Collection of Psalm Tunes with a few Anthems and Hymns' published in 1763 for the use of Christ and St. Peter's churches. He has been credited with the authorship of one of the numerous 'Washington's Marches,' though which of them he wrote--if he wrote any--his sole and painstaking biographer[22] has been unable to discover. Mr. Sonneck, however, has succeeded in proving that he composed 'The Temple of Minerva, a Musical Entertainment performed in Nov., 1781, by a Band of Gentlemen and Ladies at the hotel of the Minister of France in Philadelphia.' The music of this piece, unfortunately, is not extant. A collection of eight songs by Hopkinson, with accompaniments for harpsichord or pianoforte, was published in Philadelphia in 1788. Speaking of these Mr. Sonneck says: 'As a composer Francis Hopkinson did not improve greatly during the twenty years which separate this song collection from his earliest efforts. His harmony is still faulty at times, and he possesses not an original musical profile. To claim the adjective of beautiful or important for these songs or his other compositions would mean to confuse the standpoint of the musical critic with that of the antiquarian. But even the critic who cares not to explain and pardon shortcomings from a historical point of view will admit that Hopkinson's songs are not without grace and that our first poet-composer obeyed the laws of musical declamation more carefully than a host of fashionable masters of that period. Artistically, of course, he resembles his contemporaries. His musical world, like theirs, was an untrue Arcadia, populated with over-sentimental shepherds and shepherdesses, or with jolly tars, veritable models of sobriety and good behavior, even when filling huge bumpers for drinking-bouts. Then again we notice in Francis Hopkinson's music the studied simplicity of that age for which treble and bass had become the pillars of the universe. This and much more is antiquated to-day. But why should we criticize at all our first "musical compositions?" It becomes us better to look upon these primitive efforts as upon venerable documents of the innate love of the American people for the beauties of music and as documents of the fact that among the signers of the Declaration of Independence there was at least one who proved to be a "successful Patron of Arts and Sciences."'

It is a peculiar coincidence that in 1759, the same year in which Hopkinson's first songs were written, an ode, set to music by James Lyon, a student at Nassau Hall, was performed at the college commencement. This, perhaps the earliest of American commencement-odes, is unfortunately not extant. Lyon was graduated from Princeton in 1759 and took up his residence in Philadelphia. There he seems to have founded or taught in a singing school where one of his anthems was performed in 1761--'an elegant anthem,' according to the 'Pennsylvania Gazette.' In 1762 he received the degree of M.A. from Princeton and perhaps wrote the music for an entertainment entitled 'The Military Glory of Great Britain' which was performed at the commencement. Subsequently he was ordained a minister in the Presbyterian church and preached the gospel in Nova Scotia, Maine, and elsewhere until his death in 1794.

We have already adverted to Lyon's 'Urania, or a choice Collection of Psalm-Tunes, Anthems and Hymns from the most approved Authors, with some entirely new.' This collection exercised an important influence on subsequent early American psalmodists.[23] The six tunes marked as new were composed by Lyon. These, together with settings of the 17th and 19th psalms, a setting of one of Watts' lyric poems, 'Friendship,' and a 'Marriage Hymn,' are all the known works of Lyon still extant. 'Their study,' says Mr. Sonneck, 'will induce no critic to call Lyon a composer of real merit or even a musician fully conversant with musical grammar. His music, viewed from an æsthetic standpoint, is in no way remarkable. He certainly gave his best in the Hymn to Friendship, the minor movement of which contains a few unexpected rays of beauty. This movement, and the fact that Lyon energetically occupied himself with music, when music was in its infancy in colonial America, prove that he possessed some inborn musical talent. For nobody will compose in a musical wilderness, no matter how valueless the compositions may be, if not forced to do so by latent creative powers. Had Lyon been educated in England, Germany, or Italy his talents would have developed to greater advantage, and his name might figure in musical dictionaries, these mausoleums of celebrity, none of which to-day mentions him. But his importance lies not in the sphere of æsthetics; it lies rather in the sphere of retrospective history. Not the absolute, but the relative merits of his music attract our attention. He was a pioneer and thereupon rests his lasting glory.'

In 1746 was born in Boston a man who bore the undistinguished name of William Billings. Billings was a tanner by profession and a musician by instinct. It is unfortunate that this pioneer American composer should have become the butt of so much ridicule; yet one must admit that he invited ridicule. There was something ludicrous even in his personal appearance.

'He was somewhat deformed,' says Ritter, 'blind of one eye, one leg shorter than the other, one arm somewhat withered, and he was given to the habit of continually taking snuff. He carried this precious article in his coat pocket made of leather, and every few minutes would take a pinch, holding the snuff between the thumb and clinched hand. To this feature we must add his stentorian voice, made, no doubt, rough as a saw by the effects of the quantity of snuff that was continually rasping his throat.'[24] His zeal continually outran his discretion. Even in church his voice drowned those of his neighbors. He was of the temperament that cannot approve without giving three cheers. The very titles of his works provoke a smile. For instance:

'The New England Psalm Singer: or American Chorister
Containing a number of Psalm-tunes, Anthems and Canons.

In four or five parts. (Never Before Published.)

Composed by William Billings, a native of Boston, in
New England.

Matt. 12. 16. "Out of the Mouths of Babes and Sucklings hast
thou Perfected Praise."

James 5. 13. "Is any Merry? Let him sing Psalms."

"O, praise the Lord with one consent
And in this grand design
Let Britain and the Colonies
Unanimously join."

Boston: New England, Printed by Edes and Gill.'

Nevertheless Hillings was an original genius with an unaffected, fervent and sincere love of his art. His very naïveté is refreshing in an age which artistic artificiality had rendered almost sterile. Of musical knowledge he possessed very little. What knowledge he had he picked up himself from such limited sources as were at his disposal. In the preface to his 'New England Psalm-Singer' he confesses ingenuously: 'For my own part, as I don't think myself confined to any Rules for Composition laid down by any that went before me, neither should I think (were I to pretend to lay down rules) that any who comes after me were anyways obligated to adhere to them any further than they should think proper: so in fact I think it is proper for every composer to be his own learner. Therefore, upon this consideration, for me to dictate or to prescribe Rules of the Nature for others, would not only be very unnecessary but also a very great Vanity.' Later he frankly confessed the immaturity that dictated those statements. He set himself more humbly to the study of rules for composition and developed an enthusiasm for counterpoint, of which he speaks in the following terms: 'It has more than twenty times the power of the old slow tunes; each foot straining for mastery and victory, the audience entertained and delighted, their minds surpassingly fluctuated, sometimes declaring for one part and sometimes for another. Now the solemn bass demands their attention--next the manly tenor--now, the lofty counter--now, the volatile treble. Now here--now there, now here again. O, ecstatic! Rush on, you sons of Harmony!' Even the tremendous earnestness of the man does not save this from being funny. It is poor Billings' fate to be funny under nearly all circumstances.

The 'New England Psalm-Singer' appeared in 1770. It may be recalled that Beethoven was born in the same year. Eight years later Billings published 'The Singing Master's Assistant,' a revision of his first work, which attained wide popularity in New England and was known as 'Billings' Best.' Following came 'Music in Miniature,' 1779; 'The Psalm-Singer's Amusement,' 1781; 'The Suffolk Harmony,' 1786; and 'The Continental Harmony,' 1794. Besides these Billings published singly a number of anthems and other compositions. All of his works show a most primitive conception of the art of composition and a very hazy knowledge of the rules of harmony and counterpoint. But they contain melodic and rhythmic force and originality. Billings could not write a good fugue, but he could write a good tune. Many of his compositions became very popular in New England. Although he had invited Britain and the Colonies to join 'unanimously' when he published his first collection, he was one of the most fiery of patriots when the Revolution broke out. Nothing could surpass the fierce ardor of his zeal. He expressed in dynamic terms his love of country and contempt for his enemies, and he called down all the wrath of an omnipotent deity on his unworthy head if he should ever prove untrue to Boston--meaning America. What were written originally as psalm-tunes he had no difficulty in turning into ringing patriotic songs. Many of them were sung by the New England soldiers throughout the war, and the tune known as 'Chester' was a favorite with the Continental fifers.

Billings is said to have introduced the use of the 'pitch-pipe' into New England choirs--where it was badly needed--and he is supposed to have been the first in New England to use the violoncello in church. According to Ritter, 'he is credited with the merit of having originated concerts or musical exhibitions in New England'; but concerts or musical exhibitions were originated there before he was born. Billings' merit is that he was the first musician of really independent and original talent that America produced. He was handicapped by lack of technical knowledge and lack of a suitable _milieu_. He wrote some good tunes which passed into the musical life of the people. He is a noteworthy figure, but his importance is not overwhelming.

Among Billings' contemporaries may be mentioned Oliver Holden, Andrew Law, Jacob Kimball, Jr., Samuel Holyoke, Samuel Read, and Lowell Mason. None of these possessed much more musical knowledge than Billings and all of them, with one exception, possessed much less talent. Holden is known chiefly for his 'Coronation' hymn, which is still popular. He published 'The American Harmony' in 1792. Law was the author of a collection of anthems and hymns, besides some compilations on musical theory. His taste was better than the average of his time, but his information and creative capacity were limited. One of his hymns, 'Archdale,' acquired wide popularity. There is nothing particular to say about Kimball, Holyoke or Read. They were of about the same stamp as Holden and Law--mediocre writers of uninspired and conventional psalm-tunes.

Lowell Mason stands out above the rest as a musician in the truer sense of the word. The earnest valor with which he combated the condition prevalent in the New England churches, flooded with 'fugue tunes' in imitation of the imported variety but devoid of any musical value, must be recognized. He was a pioneer in the work of substituting for this worthless stuff tunes at once simple and noble, in accordance with the principles of harmony, and symmetrical in form. Mason was born in 1792, at Medfield, Mass., and died in 1872 at Orange, N. J. He went to Savannah, Ga., and divided his time between banking and musical study under F. L. Abell. In 1822 he returned to Boston and published the 'Boston Handel-Haydn Society's Collection of Church Music,' containing a number of his own compositions. The most familiar of his tunes are probably 'Corinth' ('I love to steal a while away'), 'Cowper' ('There is a fountain filled with blood'), 'Bethany' ('Nearer, my God, to Thee'), 'The Missionary Hymn' ('From Greenland's Icy Mountains'), and 'Mount Vernon' ('Sister thou wert mild and lovely'). After 1827 Dr. Mason (the degree of Mus.D. was conferred on him by New York University) took charge of the music in no less than three churches, but subsequently confined his labors to Dr. Lyman Beecher's Bowdoin Street Church, whither pilgrimages were soon made from all over the country 'to hear the wonderful singing.' His training of boys' voices particularly was a marvel to his generation. Mason's educational work is indeed of uncommon importance and will be touched upon in a later chapter. With Professors Park and Phelps he edited the 'Sabbath Hymn Book' (1858) and in 1830 he issued the 'Juvenile Lyrics,' said to be the earliest collection of songs for secular schools published in America.

Except for the rugged originality of the ludicrous Billings, the opening of the nineteenth century had still disclosed nothing of American composition that might be considered other than commonplace. But at least the pioneer work had been done with commendable earnestness and under very real handicaps. The actual achievements of pioneers are never very great, but the value of their work is incalculable. To the pioneers of American composition we can at least tender our respect for the undoubted sincerity of their efforts.

W. D. D.

FOOTNOTES:

[10] _Op. cit._, p. 54.

[11] Hood: 'History of Music in New England.' See also Ritter: 'Music in America' and Elson: 'History of American Music.'

[12] William Tansur was a contemporary English Church composer. His collection, 'The Royal Melody Complete,' here alluded to, appeared in 1754.

[13] Aaron Williams was an English music engraver, publisher and composer. 'The New Universal Psalmodist' appeared in 1763.

[14] The French fleet, of course.

[15] For the following information concerning concerts in New York, Philadelphia and the South we are indebted wholly to O. G. Sonneck's scholarly and trustworthy work, 'Early Concert Life in America,' Leipzig, 1907.

[16] _Op. cit._, Chap. VIII.

[17] Handel.

[18] This was Christian Bach, known as 'the London Bach.' As far as we can discover Americans left the great J. S. Bach severely alone.

[19] Mr. Sonneck has pointed out that the name of Mozart appeared infrequently on concert programs before the year 1800, even in Vienna.

[20] The name was spelled thus for several years. Later it became Cecilia, as it is at present. Recruited from among the social leaders of Charleston, the Society naturally became an exclusive organization in which social considerations eventually predominated.

[21] In those days proof-reading was a fine art. The announcement to which we refer speaks of 'music by the celebrated Italian, Père Golaise.'

[22] Mr. O. G. Sonneck, whose excellent monograph on Francis Hopkinson is our authority.

[23] For a detailed discussion of 'Urania,' together with some very interesting reflections on early American sacred music, see Mr. Sonneck's monograph on James Lyon: 'Francis Hopkinson and James Lyon: Two Studies in Early American Music,' Washington, 1905.

[24] _Op. cit._, Chap. III.