and generous character, his enterprise and vigor in command, his readiness to assume responsibility, his courage and coolness in emergencies, his foresight for providing for all possible contingencies of campaign or battle-field, and his calmness when the results became adverse." Could the character of Sullivan be fairly said to be that of a great man? Does he measure up to "bigness?" Remember a little man seldom does big things. Briefly, what did he do in this Indian campaign? At the beginning of the Revolution there was a democracy of six confederate states within the present boundaries of our own municipality. So strong had this democracy grown that it dominated the inhabitants of a territory of more than a million square miles. Their battle-cry was heard from the Kennebec to Lake Superior, and under the very fortifications of Quebec they annihilated the Huron. Their orators were fit to rank with any that we have to-day. Their legends are the legends of a people whose souls were filled with poetry. Their military tactics were those of a people trained for war--successful war. Man to man, they were what no other barbarians have been, a match for the white man. They held the gateway to the West and their position made them umpires between the mighty nations of the Old World who were struggling for the possession of the New. Civilized in a sense they were, but they were barbarians too, and savages to their very heart of hearts. Rapacious, treacherous, cruel beyond belief,--they were dreaded alike by friend and foe. Their home was a _terra incognita._ No colonist had trodden it. From no peak had trapper looked across the profile of their land. Their numbers were unknown and could only be guessed at by their achievements--and these were terrible. How silly of Gordon to criticize Sullivan for over-manning his expedition. Darkest Africa is better known to-day than was then the land of the Iroquois. They were re-enforced by British regulars, by fanatical Tories; they were led by white men, and one of their leaders was a thorough Indian and thoroughly educated in the white man's lore. Among this people and into this _terra incognita_ came Sullivan and smote them hip and thigh. He conquered them to the uttermost. He broke down the gateway to the mighty West. With a miserable commissariat, he invaded an unknown country and forever destroyed a democracy that had ruled for five hundred years. The Indians conquered by Wayne were but a frazzle of the Six Nations united with Indians farther West. Little men do little things, big men do big things, and great men do great things. Before Sullivan vanished "that savage senate at the Lake, By the salt marshes, yonder in the north, Dull-visaged butchers, coarsely blanketed Squatted in a ring by their dark Council House And with strange mumery of pipes and belts Decreeing, coldly, death--forever death."