doubt did much to give strength and volume to this movement. The way was prepared in 1770 by James Robertson, who penetrated the wilderness as far as the banks of the Watauga. Forts were soon erected there and on the Nolichucky. The settlement grew apace, and soon came into conflict with the most warlike and powerful of the Southern tribes of Indians. The Cherokees, like the Iroquois at the North, had fought on the English side in the Seven Years' War, and had rendered some service, though of small value, at the capture of Fort Duquesne. Early in the Revolutionary War fierce feuds with the encroaching settlers led them to take sides with the British, and in company with Tory guerrillas they ravaged the frontier. In 1776 the Watauga settlement was attacked, and invasions were made into Georgia and South Carolina. But the blow recoiled

upon the Cherokees. Their country was laid waste by troops from the Carolinas, under Andrew Williamson and Griffith Rutherford; their attack upon the Watauga settlement was defeated by James Robertson and John Sevier; and in 1777 they were forced to make treaties renouncing for the most part their claims upon the territory between the Tennessee and the Cumberland riv

ers.

Robertson and Sevier were the most commanding and picturesque figures in Tennessee history until Andrew Jackson came upon the scene; and their military successes, moreover, like those of "Old Hickory," were of the utmost importance to the whole country. This was especially true of their victory at the Watauga; for had the settlement there been swept away by the savages, it would have uncovered the great Wilderness Road to Lexington and Harrodsburg, and the Kentucky settlements, thus fatally isolated, would very likely have had to be abandoned. The Watauga victory thus helped to secure in

1776 the ground won two years before at the Great Kanawha.1

Such were the beginnings of Kentucky and Tennessee, and such was the progress already made to the west of the mountains, when the next and longest step was taken by George Rogers Clark. During the years 1776 and 1777, Colonel Henry Hamilton, the British commander at Detroit, was busily engaged in preparing a general attack of Indian tribes upon the northwestern frontier. Such concerted action among the savages was difficult to organize, and the moral effect of Lord Dunmore's war doubtless served to postpone it. There were isolated assaults, however, upon Boonesborough and Wheeling and in the neighborhood of Pittsburg. While Hamilton was thus scheming and intriguing, a gallant young Virginian was preparing a most effective counterstroke. In the late autumn of 1777, George Rogers Clark, then just twentyfive years old, was making his way back from Kentucky along the Wilderness Road, and heard with exultation the news of Burgoyne's surrender. Clark was a man of bold originality. He had been well educated by that excellent Scotch school-master, Donald Robertson, among whose pupils was James Madison. In 1772, Clark was practicing the profession of a land surveyor upon the upper Ohio, and he rendered valuable service as a scout in the campaign of the Great Kanawha. For skill in woodcraft, as for indomitable perseverance and courage, he had few equals. He was a man of picturesque and stately presence, like an old Norse viking, tall and massive, with ruddy cheeks, auburn hair, and piercing blue eyes sunk deep under thick yellow brows.

When he heard of the "convention" of Saratoga, Clark was meditating a stroke as momentous in the annals of

1 This point has been well elucidated by Mr. Roosevelt in his Winning of the West, vol. i. pp. 240, 306.

the Mississippi Valley as Burgoyne's overthrow in the annals of the Hudson. He had sent spies through the Illinois country, without giving them any inkling of his purpose, and from what he could gather from their reports he had made up his mind that by a bold and sudden movement the whole region could be secured and the British commander checkmated. On arriving in Virginia, he laid his scheme before Governor Patrick Henry; and Jefferson, Wythe, and Madison were also taken into his confidence. The plan met with warm approval; but as secrecy and dispatch were indispensable, it would not do to consult the legislature, and little could be done beyond authorizing the adventurous young man to raise a force of 350 men and collect material of war at Pittsburg. People supposed that his object was merely to defend the Kentucky settlements. Clark had a hard winter's work in enlisting men, but at length in May, 1778, having collected a flotilla of boats and a few pieces of light artillery, he started from Pittsburg with 180 picked riflemen, and rowed swiftly down the Ohio River a thousand miles to its junction with the Mississippi. The British garrison at Kaskaskia had been removed, to strengthen the posts at Detroit and Niagara, and the town was an easy prey. Hiding his boats in a creek, Clark marched across the prairie, and seized the place without resistance. The French inhabitants were not ill-disposed toward the change, especially when they heard of the new alliance between the United States and Louis XVI., and Clark showed consummate skill in playing upon their feelings. Cahokia and two other neighboring villages were easily persuaded to submit, and the Catholic priest Gibault volunteered to carry Clark's proposals to Vincennes, on the Wabash; and upon receiving the message this important post likewise submitted. As Clark had secured the friendship of the Spanish commandant

at St. Louis, he felt secure from molestation for the present, and sent a party home to Virginia with the news of his bloodless conquest. The territory north of the Ohio was thus annexed to Virginia as the "county" of Illinois, and a force of 500 men was raised for its defense.

When these proceedings came to the ears of Colonel Hamilton at Detroit, he started out with a little army of about 500 men, regulars, Tories, and Indians, and after a march of seventy days through the primeval forest reached Vincennes, and took possession of it. He spent the winter intriguing with the Indian tribes, and threatened the Spanish governor at St. Louis with dire vengeance if he should lend aid or countenance to the nefarious proceedings of the American rebels. Meanwhile, the crafty Virginian was busily at work. Sending a few boats, with light artillery and provisions, to ascend the Ohio and the Wabash, Clark started overland from Kaskaskia with 130 men ; and after a terrible winter march of sixteen days across the drowned lands in what is now the State of Illinois, he appeared before Vincennes in time to pick up his boats and cannon. In the evening of February 23d the town surrendered, and the townspeople willingly assisted in the assault upon the fort. After a brisk cannonade and musket-fire for twenty hours, Hamilton surrendered at discretion, and British authority in this region was forever at an end.1 An expedition descending from Pittsburg in boats had already captured Natchez and ousted the British from the lower Mississippi. Shortly after, the Cherokees and other Indians whom Hamilton had incited to take the war-path were overwhelmed by Colonel Shelby, and on the upper Ohio and Alleghany the Indian country was so thoroughly devastated by Colonel

1 Mr. Roosevelt's account of Clark's expedition (vol. ii. p. 31-90) is extremely graphic and spirited.

Brodhead that all along the frontier there reigned a profound peace, instead of the carnival of burning and scalping which the British commander had contemplated.

The stream of immigration now began to flow steadily. Fort Jefferson was established on the Mississippi River to guard the mouth of the Ohio. Another fortress, higher up on the beautiful river which La Salle had discovered and Clark had conquered, became the site of Louisville, so named in honor of our ally, the French king. James Robertson again appeared on the scene, and became the foremost pioneer in middle Tennessee, as he had already led the colonization of the eastern part of that great State. On a bold bluff on the southern bank of the Cumberland River, Robertson founded a city, which took its name from the gallant General Nash, who fell in the battle of Germantown; and among the cities of the fair South there is to-day none more beautiful or thriving than Nashville. Thus by degrees was our grasp firmly fastened upon the western country, and year by year grew stronger.

terms of peace with the British enemy, the fortified posts on the Mississippi and the Wabash were held by American garrisons. Possession is said to be nine points in the law, and while Spain and France were intriguing to keep us out of the Mississippi Valley, we were in possession of it. The military enterprise of Clark was crowned by the diplomacy of Jay. The four cardinal events in the history of our western frontier during the Revolution are: (1) the defeat of the Shawnees and their allies at Point Pleasant in 1774; (2) the defeat of the Cherokees on the Watauga in 1776; (3) Clark's conquest of the Illinois country in 1778-79; (4) the detection and thwarting of the French diplomacy in 1782 by Jay. When Washington took command of the Continental army at Cambridge, in 1775, the population and jurisdiction. of the thirteen united commonwealths scarcely reached beyond the Alleghanies; it was due to the series of events here briefly recounted that when he laid down his command at Annapolis, in 1783, the domain of the independent United States was bounded on the west by the Mississippi River.

Clark's last years were spent in poverty and obscurity at his sister's home, near Louisville, where he died in 1818. It was his younger brother, William Clark, who in company with Meriwether Lewis made the famous expedition to the Columbia River in 1804, thus giving the United States a hold upon Oregon. John Fiske.

THE division of social labor which includes all our educational work differs from other classes of occupation in that it is not continuous. The soil tiller, the artisan, and in most cases the professional man not engaged in teaching are

accustomed to continuous toil; society demands of them the term of their day's work, with most brief intervals for the refreshment of their strength. With the teacher it is different: about one third of his year is spent in rest, or in ways not

immediately connected with his occupation; when employed, his day is shorter than that of other laborers. Even if we include in the comparison only the group of intellectual occupations, we find that the teacher appears singularly favored in the demand made upon him. The lawyer, the physician, and the commercial man are generally held to continuous attention to their work for at least eight hours each secular day; the teacher, on the other hand, is rarely occupied for more than six hours in each of the first five days of the laboring week; above the level of the elementary schools, he rarely practices his art for more than twenty hours in each seven days.

If this peculiar condition of labor among the teaching body were limited to one country or to one time, we might seek to explain it by some exceptional social state. When I first began to consider the matter, it appeared to me likely that it was in part due to the fact that school work was originally connected with religious labor; the priest was the school-master, and his occupation as a teacher was in a way subordinate to his other duties. Although the original association of the priestly function with the task of teaching has left its mark on our educational system, and may not have been without influence on the organization of the school year, yet the fact that in all countries where the schools have taken shape we find the work of teaching limited to a part of the day in about nine months of the year is good evidence of some fundamental necessity requiring a common limitation in the time devoted to the work of teachers and pupils.

The school-masters of Europe as well as those of America, of all grades, from the primary schools to the universities, have, after manifold experiments, arrived at the conclusion that not more than nine months of each year shall be devoted to pedagogue work. A similar limitation appears to exist in the teaching

work of other than Christian countries: the schools of Mohammedan lands and those of China have their vacations arranged in substantially the same manner as those of our own civilization. There appears, moreover, to be a general tendency to increase the period devoted to refreshment of the school labor. It is true that in the rural districts, where of old, on account of scant means, the school term was limited to three or four months each year, the gain in wealth and the increased interest in education have led to a lengthening of the teaching term; but in all highly organized establishments, at least in this country, there is a general movement towards longer periods of rest for pupils and teachers alike. Of recent years, Harvard College has made several efforts to consolidate and lengthen the terms of instruction. At one time there was no break between the Christmas recess and the close of the colleges in June: it was found, however, that both students and teachers suffered from continuous application to work during a term of five and a half months, and that it was necessary to introduce a recess of seven days in the month of April. In the same way, the common schools of our cities have been induced by experience to shorten the school-days and lengthen the vacations, until they are in session annually for not more than thirty-eight or forty weeks; and the total number of hours which a student devotes to his tasks, counting work done at home as well as that at school, does not on the average exceed twelve hundred a year. Youths of like age employed in factories are occupied for almost three thousand hours in each year. The case of teachers, especially those of the higher grade, is even more striking. In our secondary schools they are usually employed for not more than twenty-five hours per week in the work of the classroom, or for one thousand hours a year; the college instructors do not generally give more than five hundred hours to a

year's work, and the older men in these institutions are called on for even less labor.

This singular contrast between the conditions of scholastic and those of mechanical labor in our social system is doubtless to be explained by the peculiar burden which intellectual occupation puts upon teachers and pupils alike. The weight of the load which brain-work, even of a relatively simple kind, imposes on all who do it is hardly appreciated by those who labor with their minds, and is utterly misconceived by the hand workman. Rightly to apprehend the difference between these two classes of labor, that of the body and the mind, we should consider the difference in the daily round of a vigorous artisan and that of an equally strong man who is employed in some simple form of literary work. I have in mind several good specimens of these two diverse classes of laborers, whose histories I can trace from youth to age. The difference in the capacity of these men to pursue their allotted tasks is remarkable. The Iman who labors to the utmost with his body, but whose mind has been schooled to rest, may begin his life's toil at twelve years of age, and, if he be a sober man, continue his work, with rare intervals of illness, for sixty years. During this period he may labor on the average of each year for about three thousand hours, or in his lifetime for, say, one hundred and eighty thousand. I have known a number of men who have done manual labor of a rather taxing sort for something like this term of toil: it may indeed be assumed that the healthy laborer who lives out his allotted days does at least one hundred and fifty thousand hours of work. Some of these men exceed two hundred thousand hours of labor in their lifetime, and most women of the agricultural districts who survive until their eightieth year fill up this measure of toil.

From a somewhat careful study of the ways in which authors have pursued

their work, I am inclined to think that the most vigorous of them have not, on the average, been able to occupy themselves with the pen for more than four hours each day, and that only in rare instances has this measure of production been maintained for over one half of each year. If we allow to the busiest, longest-lived, and most productive authors, men like Goethe and Voltaire, a period of sixty years of authorship, and reckon their labor at an average of three hours per day for six days in the week, we have a total of about fifty thousand hours for a lifetime's work. It seems to me doubtful if any writer has maintained this rate of productive labor for any such period as sixty years: he too has his vacations, and they are often of long continuance. I am well satisfied that the average duration of the pen-work of our most laborious and productive literary men has not exceeded thirty thousand hours, or about one sixth that of the equally assiduous man who works with his muscles, with only as much brain, certainly, as may guide his movements.

It must not be supposed that the difference in the time devoted to productive labor by men who work with their hands and those who work with their heads is due to the difference in the motive which moves them to do their tasks. The man of the hand craft has the spur of immediate necessity; he does his day's labor for his daily bread; but the stimulus of ambition, the inner spur to action, which moves the literary man to production even when the body is borne down by illness supplies a yet more powerful motive than that which prompts his humbler brother to his work.

It is true that a certain sort of intellectual labor, reading, simple collation, and other forms of endeavor which call for only a moderate occupation of the mind, may be pursued by ordinary persons of a sedentary habit with something like the continuity with which the artisan follows his trade; but such work,