THE SONS OF: THE SEVTCE ae 
BY ERNEST RUSSELL 
I].—The Genesis of the Pioneer Spirit 
HE makers of real his- 
tory are little given to 
striking attitudes in the 
accomplishment of their 
undertakings. A prin- 
ciple is conceived and a 
plan of action adopted 
without regard for effect, 
but with the very definite 
object of getting a cer- 
i tain thing done—speed- 
ily if possible and as well as may be,— 
but done and over with. Pregnant with 
ideals, with heroism and force of will 
as it is, it is still a legacy of achieve- 
ment that men of heroic mould be- 
queath to posterity. 
It is the pre-eminence of this faculty 
for doing things in the character of the 
settler which makes him interesting as 
a study and valuable as an example. 
Initiative, resourcefulness and tenacity 
of purpose were the agents he em- 
ployed; results were what he obtained. 
Seldom did he toil under further in- 
centive and stimulus.than the prospect 
of his own achievement furnished, nor 
did he need them: the crash of the tree 
under his ax, the rearing of his cabin 
of logs and the gradual extension of his 
clearings into plowed land, these were 
his recompense. 
The camera and the bureau of pub- 
licity were not for him. Alone he 
worked out the problems of his time 
leaving a record of achievement, per- 
manent and unforgettable. Even his- 
tory frequently fails to transmit an 
accurate and convincing picture of the 
virile types of men who marked with 
such indelible characters the spirit of 
their time. The temptation of the his- 
torian is to forget the Ciceronian max- 

im,* and to strive for an effect with his 
own colors and a broadly flourished 
brush. Thus he often misses the essen- 
tial vigor and the rugged virtue of his 
subject. 
We all remember the single un- 
printable word with which Victor 
Hugo has glorified the last stand of the 
Old Guard at Waterloo—a word which 
in its defiance and scorn of death, its 
supremacy over any other expression 
possible in the crisis of that terrible 
moment deserves the fame he gave it. 
In the unwritten story of our own be- 
ginnings we may find like incidents, 
hidden in the haze of tradition but none 
the less convincing in their fidelity to 
the types we picture. 
When Ethan Allen and his four score 
Vermonters swept through the gate of 
Ticonderoga in the dawn of that mem- 
orable 10th of May, 1775, we can well 
believe, in our conception of the char- 
acter of the man and his followers, that 
the surprised sentry snapped his gun— 
and ran. And when the frightened 
Delaplace, trousers in hand, opened the 
door of his room to face an uplifted 
sword and the summons of “Sur- 
render!” from the tall, gaunt figure 
before him, he may well have asked, 
“By whose authority do you demand 
it?’ The historian, the lover of high 
sounding phrase, has put into the mouth 
of the impetuous Allen the resounding 
response: “By authority of the great 
Jehovah and the Continental Con- 
gress!” Brave words indeed! but are 
they like the man or fitted to the scene? 
Far rather would the writer accept the 
*The first rule of history is that an historian shall 
not dare to advance a falsity; the next that there is 
no truth but what he shall dare to tell_—Cicero, De 
Oratore. 
