These are “interesting times” for the Founding Fathers—“interesting” in the ironical sense in which the word is employed popularly, but also in the apocryphal Chinese curse. For example, for several decades now, writers such as Gary Wills, Joseph Ellis, Ron Chernow, and Richard Brookhiser have been tapping into large general audiences with best-selling studies on the Founding Fathers. At the same time, numerous dyspeptic faculty members—including, alas, some influential College Board consultants—have decried the “overattention” being paid to “dead white males,” however distinguished, and in so doing, often succeeded in easing the Founding Fathers off of both the historical stage and the scantron sheets of the SAT.

Although historians have thoroughly discussed the impact of transformations in the workplace and the corporate structure that accompanied the rise of modern business enterprises, Professor Santos argues that they have ignored the traditional firms that continued to exist amid these changes. Constituting a significant portion of companies operating in the industrial economy, firms like Byers employed simple systems of managerial control based on the entrepreneurs' personal authority and property interest in the business. While labor policy at modern corporations was shaped by the managers' need to establish administrative control over the production and distribution systems, Byers's labor policy was defined by family attitude and the company's history.

A progress report on the attempts being made to organize the records of a major North American transportation corporation so that they will be available and useful to historians.

Part of the eighteenth-century Spanish crown's attempt to restore national power through the promotion of trade and manufacturing was a campaign to eradicate the aversions of the nobility toward commerce and industry. Don Juan de Goyeneche was most often held up as the model of what the state expected of its noblemen. But Professor Callahan concludes that Goyeneche's significance lies more in symbol that in accomplishment.

Perhaps the most significant thing about the business man in folklore is that he is far from an important figure in it. From this we may deduce that among those people who have created what we call folklore the business man has either not played an important rôle or his function and contribution have not been understood. He is not, however, altogether missing; we might not recognize him, since he is a remote and shadowy figure compared with the business man as we think of him today. But he is there, and the very form and circumstances in which he appears have meaning.

In the manner of the Creole tradesmen of Louisiana, whose lagniappe to their patrons is legendary, the Editor offers a similar bonus to readers of the Review. Instead of trifling presents added to a purchase, however, our lagniappe will be notes and documents illustrative of the evolution of business enterprise.