T. V. Powderly, Grand Master Workman of the Noble Order of the Knights of Labor from 1879 to 1893, has been portrayed in many different ways—as idealist, reformer, humanitarian, windbag, renegade, crook, imposter, agitator, introvert, self-seeker, charlatan, cheap politician, turncoat, rabble rouser, and drippy sentimentalist. Some claim that he was a great labor leader; others just as vigorously maintain that he was utterly lacking in the qualities of leadership—that he was, in reality, an insignificant nobody swept along by the changing currents of the American labor movement. It is not the purpose of this short article to paint a full-length portrait of Powderly but rather, on the basis of newly discovered data, to indicate briefly which, if any, of the above characterizations fit the man.

The task of reviewing general texts is especially difficult. Many different objectives may legitimately be attempted, and it is easy to allow one's personal interests to enter into the appraisal of objectives. It has long been my conviction that every author should be allowed to choose his objectives and to adopt such means as may be suitable in their fulfillment. Once these choices have been made, the author imposes a task upon himself which may legitimately be examined, both in respect of its intrinsic merit and in respect of the execution of the plan. Mr. Hacker's book presents a number of especially interesting problems in these regards.

During the past decade the rapid spread of governmental activities into new fields and their extension within the fields that had previously been entered have increased the attention always given to the question of the legitimate sphere of activity for the Federal Government. There has been a widespread assumption that throughout the nineteenth century with only insignificant exceptions this country followed a policy of laissez-faire. From this assumption many people have proceeded to argue that in the past decade the American people have suddenly turned from the tradition which made this the greatest industrial nation of the world and have adopted a course which leads away from the “American way of life.”

The frontier interpretation of American history with which Professor Frederick Jackson Turner captivated and intrigued the observers of American development more than forty years ago still retains its fascination. Professor Turner saw the American frontier as an area in which American society was constantly being rebuilt, each time shaped by special problems: “American social development,” he wrote, “has been continually beginning over again on the frontier.” It was on this theme that Professor Turner based his most striking contention that “The existence of an area of free land, its continuous recession, and the advance of American settlement westward, explain American development.”

Economics, as it is frequently taught nowadays, consists largely of supply and demand curves. Within their graceful lines are contained the wisdom of the ages—the key to the past and the barometer of the future. If superimposed on one another, these curves have all the esthetic quality of dynamistic drawings. So completely have they dominated economic thinking that when a group of economists considered the possibility of founding an Economic History Association, their first impulse was to establish a demand curve. This was done, as Professor Heaton has intimated, by Miss Anne Bezanson, who canvassed the field. She discovered that four hundred people could be counted upon immediately to support a Journal of Economic History.