the western parapet as she entered the bay. Little did I realize that in a few days I should be plunging into a nasty sea off Montauk Point, more dead than alive, and greatly resembling the gentleman in the story of whom his friend said that Jack had thrown up everything but his immortal soul. In the John Adams we visited Yorktown, from which McClellan's Army had just driven the Confederates. Under the guidance of some eloquent soldiers we were told more about that military operation than possibly the General-inChief ever knew. It quickened our pulses, however, to be in such close touch with the war, and we envied those happy, careless infantrymen whose good fortune it was to take a place in the firing line. Having duly appreciated this triumph of our arms on shore, we proceeded to Port Royal, where we rejoiced in the fact that the Navy, following the Army's example, had also done the state some service. returned to Newport to give another batch of midshipmen a chance to acquire the sea habit and to learn, as we had done, the joys of reefing topsails at night in a howling gale of wind off Cape Hatteras. We We took their vacant places on board the Constitution and studied the professional branches of our course in a practical way. It was during this period that insinuations against his loyalty reached even so elevated a target as dear old Commodore Blake himself, bringing out, however, a strong counter-affidavit signed by all the principal officers and professors. It was a serious matter to have one's patriotism suspected in those days-so serious that those who passed through them can dimly perceive that only our Anglo-Saxon common-sense saved us from a milder form of the terror of the French Revolution. By the autumn of 1862, the Academy had adjusted itself to the new and unnatural conditions at Newport; the authorities had established a species of dual institution, one branch (the fourth class) afloat, the other branch (the upper classes) ashore; and things were running as smoothly as was practicable under the strange circumstances. Both sections met weekly at battalion drill in Newport and at exercises with spars and sails on board the sailing sloops-ofwar John Adams and Marion. That prince among seamen, Lieut.-Commander (now Rear-Admiral) Stephen B. Luce, had my part of the school and the Marion under his especial charge. My recollection is that after getting the ship under way every Saturday morning and knocking about in the bay or just outside, he would seek out some soft spot, deliberately run her aground, and then make us warp her off into deep water. The precious Saturday afternoons we spent in carrying out anchors and chains and in heaving around on the capstan were legion in number, as it seemed to me then and indeed seems to me now. As a matter of fact, I do not believe the thing happened more than a few times altogether, but to lose the one day in the week on which we could loaf within Academic limits, or, better yet, leave them to make a little journey into the world, to see our friends, or gorge ourselves with indigestible tidbits at Muenchinger's restaurant, was such a cruel hardship that even now it obscures the vision. After all, however, next to keeping a vessel off the bottom, the most valuable knowledge is how to get her afloat again. That much we did gain. The calm and orderly procedure of our cloistered existence was, as a rule, but slightly disturbed by the happenings of the war, keen and absorbing as was our interest in the stirring news from the front, with its cheering tidings of victory alternating with heartrending accounts of defeat. As I look back upon the events of those desperate years, my feelings are divided between rejoicing at the blessed triumph of my own side and admiration for the stubborn and heroic resistance of our brothers of the South. Surely the world has never witnessed so Titanic a struggle, or one in which the honors were so evenly divided between victor and vanquished. The actual fact of hostilities was brought home to us in vivid manner, however, when the Florida and Tallahassee and their sister Confederate cruisers appeared off the New England shores, destroying fishing-smacks and coasting schooners and alarming the whole littoral community. Our practice cruises in 1863 and 1864 were turned into real operations of war as the Academy vessels bearing their quota of midshipmen under instruction were despatched after these harassing and predatory craft. On board the famous old sailing frigate Macedonian, in the latter year, we congratulated ourselves on our luck in picking up the Florida, for such we took to be a man-of-war steamer which approached us rapidly late in the afternoon of one gray, threatening day. We had cleared for action and our guns were all shotted and manned, ready, please God, to crush the foe at the first broadside. Alas, the stranger proved to be the U. S. S. Saco. We exchanged information and she proceeded on her way, leaving behind her a disappointed and disgusted set of lads, who had confidently expected this to be their one chance to fight for the flag. Since then, I have often wondered whether the Lord was not kind on that occasion and what would have been the Macedonian's fate, had it really been the Florida, and not the Saco, which she encountered. One of the curious occurrences of that time was the capture, by Confederate raiders, while on leave in Ohio (I think), of Midshipman Crumbagh, and his subsequent release on parole. He was permitted to continue his studies, but forbidden to sail on a practice vessel lest he be drawn into action. The last "rebel-cruiser" scare occurred in November, 1864, when the gunboat Marblehead was hastily fitted out with a number of my class-mates in the engine-room and sent to the vicinity of Block Island. The midshipmen who remained in Newport were detailed to man the guns on the ships in the harbor and on Goat Island. For aught I know to the contrary, they may also have been assigned to some of those in Fort Adams. Happily for all concerned, it was a scare and nothing more. The Confederacy, as we all know now, was then in the throes of dissolution. By the Navy, it had been cut in twain along the line of the Mississippi River and shut off from its only source of munitions of war through a blockade which remains to-day unparalleled for extent and efficiency. Its non-combatants were brought to such suffering as only those can experience who stand ready to sacrifice everything in life and life itself for a principle, even though that principle be an error. In the meantime, our Armies had beaten its forces back from every field of battle and were shortly after hemming in the last remnants about Richmond, its capital. Then the glad intelligence arrived from Appomattox that the end had indeed come, hallowed by that noble utterance of our victorious General, "Let us have peace." What that wish signified only we can fully appreciate who know what war really is. With the return to normal conditions throughout the land, the immediate future of the Naval Academy became a question demanding serious official consideration. The State of Rhode Island offered, as a permanent site, that splendid piece of ground, Prudence Island, in Narragansett Bay. Very unwisely, in my judgment, this offer was declined and the Naval Academy brought back to Annapolis at the close of that Academic year. The Constitution left Newport on August 9, 1865, to retrace in leisurely and humdrum fashion the course which, four years before, she had made under such thrilling circumstances. Only those midshipmen who entered the school after the spring of 1861 and who graduated prior to the summer of 1865 can call themselves "graduates of Newport.' The others are all graduates of Annapolis. It is a graduate of Newport whom you have honored tonight by asking him to join your mess and spin you a sailor's simple yarn. On behalf of himself and his colleagues and for your patience and kindness in listening to this brief and imperfect account of some things which happened fortyodd years ago, he returns you most sincere and hearty thanks. SOME REMARKS UPON THE ARMY AS A PIONEER OF CIVILIZATION AND AS A CONSTRUCTIVE MADE BEFORE THE NEW YORK COMMANDERY BY COMPANION BRIG.-GENERAL JOHN W. CLOUS, U. S. A. (RETIRED), DECEMBER 4, 1907. HE origin of the American Army is to be found in the TH force of the New England troops, which under the lead of Massachusetts had assembled at Boston soon after the battles of Lexington and Concord, and of which George Washington became the General and Commanderin-Chief. It is said that in the intervening 131 years nearly 5,000,ooo men have worn its uniform; it has conducted with success five great wars, covering a period of seventeen years, and numerous campaigns against hostile Indians and Filipino insurgents; it has been the chief instrument in restoring order and civil government after the war with Mexico, the Civil War, and the war with Spain; from its ranks have come twelve of the twenty-five presidents of the United States and many hundreds of men occupying the highest civil offices, governors of States, Senators and Representatives of Congress, Cabinet ministers, ambassadors, and judges of important courts. For a people who never sought war and have only resorted to it when reluctantly forced to do so, the Army has filled a large place in our history. It has always been the legitimate and legal instrument of the civil power. In spite of this, it has ever been regarded with a certain jealousy and suspicion, born of other times and |