276 OHIO
ARCHAEOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
Mr. Frank A. Livingston, President of
the first-named organiza-
tion, presided. Dr. Harold J. Grimm of
the Ohio State University
presented a paper on "The
Genealogist as Historian," and Dr.
Harlow Lindley of the Ohio State Museum
read a paper prepared
by Mr. Delbert L. Gratz of Bluffton,
Ohio, on "The Swiss Men-
nonites of Alien and Putnam
Counties."
THE GENEALOGIST AS HISTORIAN
By HAROLD J. GRIMM
The genealogist, gathering information
concerning his family tree, is
engaged in a fascinating activity. The
pleasure which he derives from
making new discoveries amply repays him
for hours of painstaking research,
and corresponds to the gratification
experienced by the historian who has
succeeded in throwing new light upon a
perplexing problem. As a matter of
fact, the genealogist is a historian in
his own right, for he handles historical
data, applies historical methods, and
draws historical conclusions.
The personal satisfaction which the
genealogist obtains from gather-
ing biographical data is supplemented by
a number of valuable by-products
which deserve mention. In the first
place, the facts which he accumulates
may be of inestimable value to the
biographer and general historian.1
Moreover, he is brought into contact and
gains a familiarity with the past,
a knowledge of which is indispensable
for a proper understanding of the
present. His preoccupation with the
lives of his ancestors also serves to
give him a better conception of the time
element in history than that of the
casual observer. In the perspective of
many people, the events of the last
century lie in the remote and nebulous
past. But the fact that my maternal
grandfather gave me first-hand
information concerning the Germany which
he left after the failure of the
Revolution of 1848, impressed me with the
tardy struggle for political democracy
in Germany. And when he recalled
the conditions in Europe at the time of
the French Revolution and Napoleon,
as narrated to him by his grandfather, I
became aware of the relatively
short span of history between the period
which witnessed the creation of our
own United States and the present day.
The awareness of our proximity to such
events and the feeling that
our ancestors either helped create our
democratic institutions or came
to this country to enjoy the advantages
which they offered, should arouse
in us a profound respect for them. We
should at least make an earnest
1 For an excellent evaluation of the
genealogist's contribution to biography and
history, see Francis P. Weisenburger, "The
Personal Element in History," Ohio
State Archaeological and
Historical Quarterly (Columbus,
1887- ), XLVIII (1939),
153-63.
OHIO HISTORY CONFERENCE: PROCEEDINGS 277
attempt to understand these institutions
and adapt them to our contemporary
needs, especially since there is a
widespread disposition to substitute ideol-
ogies and methods unfamiliar to our
ancestors and incompatible with our
democratic way of life.
In times of relative peace and security,
the gathering of geneaological
and historical facts as a hobby or pure
cultural activity may proceed un-
disturbed or unchallenged. But when our democratic institutions are
threatened, as they are today, it
becomes obligatory upon the genealogist and
historian to aid in the solution of
pressing political, economic, and social
problems.
To make his activities pertinent to these
problems, a genealogist should
go beyond the mere enumeration of family
data and probe into the environ-
ment of his ancestors. He should attempt
to ascertain those factors which
influenced them in creating and
preserving the basic institutions of our
country; to discover the elan vital, or
driving force, which impelled them
to face hardships and overcome serious
obstacles; and to apply their ideals
and methods in seeking a solution for
our contemporary difficulties.
A study of the lives of our ancestors,
no matter how insignificant
their contributions may appear on the
surface, will reveal the fact that they
were vitally concerned with the
development and perpetuation of two basic
institutions, Christianity and
democracy. A faith in God and man was
fundamental in their thought and action
and remained, as a whole, unshaken
despite the political, economic, and
social vicissitudes of the nineteenth
century.
The persistence and expansion of
Christianity in the face of our in-
creasing self-reliance and the
development of natural science after the middle
of the nineteenth century is nothing
short of phenomenal. The great ma-
jority of the first American colonists
had fled from unbearable religious
conditions in Europe and appreciated the
privilege of worshiping as their
consciences dictated. These religious
refugees had in common a mystic
consolation in the belief that they
stood in a direct, personal relationship to
God, a belief which was stimulated by
their contact with the virgin forest.
The Great Awakening of the middle of the
eighteenth century, says Na-
thaniel Wright Stephenson, "infused
into all the denominations that were
caring for the spiritual needs of the
back country . . . a free individualistic,
forward-looking, buoyant, expansive
temper, that planted the spiritual life
of the frontier, no matter what its
theology, firm on a faith in the truth of
Luther's hymn, 'A Mighty Fortress is our
God.'"2
The spread of the philosophy of the
Enlightenment, which found wide
acceptance among the political leaders
of the last quarter of the eighteenth
century, served to increase the
religious toleration and humanitarianism
bred on the frontier and to soften the
sternness of Calvinism. The spread
of nineteenth century evangelical
Protestantism, or romantic Christianity,
2 N. W. Stephenson, History of the
American People (New York, 1934), I, 158.
278 OHIO ARCHAEOLOGICAL
AND HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
as preached primarily by the Methodists
and Baptists, intensified man's belief
in the free individual and encouraged
the hope in a millenium, the belief in
a steady progress toward that perfect
day when universal peace and order
would reign.
The religious faith of evangelicalism,
evident in the worn pages of the
family Bibles which went westward with
our ancestors, was closely related
to the political faith in democracy. The
political necessity of our original
colonists for setting up local
instruments of government for want of an
adequate government by the mother
country, was supplemented by the re-
ligious faith of the Protestant groups
with their emphasis upon a personal
accountability to God. To the century
and a half of practical experience
in ruling themselves, were added the
stimulating ideas of the men of
the Enlightenment, which were
crystallized in our conflict with Great Britain
and found expression in our Declaration
of Independence, the Constitution,
and the Bill of Rights.
Two factors made possible the
continuation and growth of the political
philosophy of our founding fathers:
first, the predominance of the free
farmer, who owned his own plot of
ground; and, second, the presence of a
western frontier until the close of the
nineteenth century. The frontier,
as Ralph Henry Gabriel has so forcefully
pointed out,3 kept alive the funda-
mental American belief in the supreme
value of the individual and the belief
in progress as a normal tendency in
history. To this must be added the
pioneer's recognition of the need for
cooperation among individuals.
The attitude of our ancestors toward
Christianity and democracy, both
of which are closely related and
mutually interdependent, gives us a clue
to the elan vital which impelled
them to march out into the unknown.
The driving forces which made possible
the greatest wave of migration in
history, which filled much of a large
continent in one century, and which
created a set of local and national
institutions that have aroused the confi-
dence of millions of people here and
abroad in the democratic processes,
were the "faith, hope, and love,"
concerning which Paul wrote to the
Christians at Corinth centuries ago.
Our ancestors had faith in God, faith in
man, and faith in the institu-
tions which they themselves had created.
They had the hope that their
labors, however arduous they might appear
for the moment, would be
crowned with success; that they, or at
least their children, would eventually
be able to live a richer and fuller life
than had previously been known to
man. Moreover, they were actuated by
love to think in terms of their
community. Nowhere, perhaps, has a
nation or people as a whole felt
the same desire to help the unfortunate
which was evinced by the Americans
on the frontier. Professor Charles A.
Beard has pointed out that the
frontier did not create "rugged
individualism," but rather a spirit of helpful
3 R. H. Gabriel, The Course of
American Democratic Thought (New York, 1940),
3-11.
OHIO HISTORY CONFERENCE: PROCEEDINGS 279
cooperation. This attitude of love and
helpfulness was beautifully ex-
pressed by Whittier:
"O brother man, fold to thy heart
thy brother;
Where pity dwells, the peace of God is
there;
To worship rightly is to love each
other,
Each smile a hymn, each kindly deed a
prayer."
The faith and hope of our ancestors was
destined, however, for a rude
shock at the beginning of our own
century. The rapid industralization of
America, as well as of all western
Europe, created a predominantly urban
out of a rural population and made
necessary important adjustments. The
World War, with its mass murder, and
recurrent industrial unemployment
shattered man's faith in progress and in
the basic institutions of our
civilization, Christianity and
democracy. Countries where Christian and
democratic standards had not taken deep
root, sought salvation in new
principles of authority.
In our attempt to meet the challenge of
the new conditions created by
our rapid industrialization, to increase
cooperation without treading the
dangerous paths of totalitarianism, it
is well to assess our democratic
heritage. What liabilities and what
assets have we inherited from our an-
cestors?
One of the weaknesses inherited by the
present generation is the
heterogeneity of our population. To the religious, national, and racial
differences have been added sectional
and class differences, which militate
against such unity of democratic purpose
as can be found, for example,
in the smaller, more compact, and more
homogeneous Scandinavian coun-
tries. The prejudices, fears, hates, and
jealousies of these various groups
are liable to flare up at the slightest
provocation.
Furthermore, the complexity of our
economic and social, domestic
and foreign problems makes it difficult
for us to arouse the interest and
concern of the average citizen. There is
a growing tendency here, as there
has been in Europe, to leave such
matters to the few and to devote one's
increasing leisure time to the countless
diversions, which George Counts
calls our "spectacles and
circuses."4
Probably the greatest liability is the
general tendency to rest on the
laurels of the past, to take the
institutions of the past for granted, to meet
our problems with a negative attitude,
and to seek escape by a policy of
inaction. Apathy is a far greater danger
to our democratic way of life
than Communist or Nazi propaganda. If
American democracy fails, it will
fail because of our indifference.
Nevertheless, we have inherited
important assets from our ancestors,
assets which should give us courage. In
the first place, our people have
4 George Counts, The Prospects of
American Democracy (New York, 1938).
234-7.
280
OHIO ARCHAEOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
had a long experience with democratic
institutions and are accustomed to
meeting serious obstacles. They have
learned to be patient with the in-
evitable slowness of our legislative
system, and will probably not be willing
to sacrifice personal freedom for
totalitarian efficiency.
In the second place, we Americans are
blessed with a sense of "fair
play" over against our minorities
and those less fortunate than ourselves,
which will probably prevent us from
desiring to liquidate all who do not
measure up to any established political,
religious, or racial orthodoxy.
Congressman T. V. Smith of Illinois
attributes the American sense of jus-
tice and "fair play" to the
friendliness, humility, and humor bred on the
frontier.5
A third important asset is our security
against foreign attack.
Democracy is a tender plant which can
flourish and grow in times of
peace, but which easily withers and dies
in times of war. Protected by
two oceans and bounded by friendly
neighbors, our democracy should out-
live the present era of storm and stress
and constitute a brilliant example
of democratic living to millions of people
nauseated by war and the ex-
cesses of totalitarianism.
Finally, our people have been blessed
with the opportunity of seeing
the totalitarian ideologies in
operation. They are able to see the cost in-
volved in sacrificing freedom for a
doubtful mess of pottage. There is rea-
son to hope for a growing respect for
our own inherited institutions and
for an increasing determination to save
them by putting them to use.
Such a state of affairs, as has been
briefly surveyed here, should
constitute a direct challenge to those
of us who have our roots deep in
the American struggles of the eighteenth
and nineteenth centuries. We
shall do our ancestors, their
institutions, and their way of life a grave
injustice if we treat them as mere
genealogical and historical curiosities.
It is incumbent upon us to catch the
spark that kindled the ardor of those
who have gone before us, to live
democracy, and to develop a devoted lead-
ership among our young people.
Democracy is a way of life, not an end
in itself. The danger of mak-
ing a system more important than its
aims can readily be seen in the history
of Stalin and Hitler, both of whom set
out to cure real ills. Contrary to
the contention of the dictators,
democracy is a government of the strong,
not the weak. Therefore it requires
eternal vigilance and self discipline.
We must constantly bear in mind that our
institutions are but means to an
end; that we can have "life,
liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" only
if we incessantly endeavor to attain
them. Goethe gave striking expression
to this fact more than a century ago
when he said, "He alone deserves
freedom, or even life, who struggles for
it daily."
Living according to democratic
principles implies a constant adjust-
5 T. V. Smith and Robert A. Taft, Foundations
of Democracy (New York,
1939), 7-10.
OHIO HISTORY CONFERENCE: PROCEEDINGS 281
ment. When we tire of the struggle, we
may wish time to stand still, to
maintain a comfortable status quo. But
time moves on, and institutions
which fail to make their adjustments,
atrophy and are replaced by those
which more adequately serve the needs of
the day. To revitalize democracy,
it is necessary to re-create the spirit
and methods of our forefathers on
the frontier, to adapt them to modern
conditions, and to use every possible
organization for the purpose of teaching
democracy and training for re-
sponsible leadership.
If we are enthusiastic over the
democratic way of life, we will impart
this enthusiasm to others, particularly
to our young people.6 To develop a
devoted leadership, we must instil,
primarily by example, a respect for our
institutions, symbols, and ideals, and
show that they offer a better solution
for our contemporary ills than the new
ideologies of Europe.
Moreover, faith is as important today as
it ever was in the past. No
leader has ever accomplished
far-reaching results whose cause was not
higher than himself, who has not said
with Luther, "Here I stand; I can-
not do otherwise." Faith in a
program, in symbols, in ideas explains the
success of the totalitarian states of
Europe. If the dictator needs faith to
bolster his power, how much more
imperative it is that we have faith in
democracy.
But we must also hold out hope to our
young people. They are as
self-denying and loyal as those of any
other country and of any previous
period in our American history; and I
firmly believe that their greatest
desire is not a life of ease and luxury,
but one of service. Surely there is
among us enough resourcefulness and ingenuity
to devise a democratic pro-
gram of action for our young people and
to provide opportunities for
their creative energy. If we fail to
cooperate with them in this respect, if
we remain negative and apathetic, there
is a real danger that they may turn
to demagogues who have no respect for
our institutions or our democratic
way of life.
I am confident that our work as
genealogists and historians will tend
to dispel the vices of fear, hate, and
jealousy which constitute such fertile
soil for totalitarianism, and will impel
us to follow the positive Christian,
democratic virtues of faith, hope, and
love. Such optimism, which may be
called wishful thinking by many, and
such a faith in the value of living
democracy was forcefully expressed by
Lincoln at a time when there was
less reason for optimism and hope than
there is today: "With malice to-
ward none, with charity for all; with
firmness in the right as God gives us
to see the right, let us strive to
finish the work we are in."
6 A realistic discussion of education
and democracy is contained in Ordway
Tead, New Adventures in Democracy
(New York, 1939), 3-70.
276 OHIO
ARCHAEOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
Mr. Frank A. Livingston, President of
the first-named organiza-
tion, presided. Dr. Harold J. Grimm of
the Ohio State University
presented a paper on "The
Genealogist as Historian," and Dr.
Harlow Lindley of the Ohio State Museum
read a paper prepared
by Mr. Delbert L. Gratz of Bluffton,
Ohio, on "The Swiss Men-
nonites of Alien and Putnam
Counties."
THE GENEALOGIST AS HISTORIAN
By HAROLD J. GRIMM
The genealogist, gathering information
concerning his family tree, is
engaged in a fascinating activity. The
pleasure which he derives from
making new discoveries amply repays him
for hours of painstaking research,
and corresponds to the gratification
experienced by the historian who has
succeeded in throwing new light upon a
perplexing problem. As a matter of
fact, the genealogist is a historian in
his own right, for he handles historical
data, applies historical methods, and
draws historical conclusions.
The personal satisfaction which the
genealogist obtains from gather-
ing biographical data is supplemented by
a number of valuable by-products
which deserve mention. In the first
place, the facts which he accumulates
may be of inestimable value to the
biographer and general historian.1
Moreover, he is brought into contact and
gains a familiarity with the past,
a knowledge of which is indispensable
for a proper understanding of the
present. His preoccupation with the
lives of his ancestors also serves to
give him a better conception of the time
element in history than that of the
casual observer. In the perspective of
many people, the events of the last
century lie in the remote and nebulous
past. But the fact that my maternal
grandfather gave me first-hand
information concerning the Germany which
he left after the failure of the
Revolution of 1848, impressed me with the
tardy struggle for political democracy
in Germany. And when he recalled
the conditions in Europe at the time of
the French Revolution and Napoleon,
as narrated to him by his grandfather, I
became aware of the relatively
short span of history between the period
which witnessed the creation of our
own United States and the present day.
The awareness of our proximity to such
events and the feeling that
our ancestors either helped create our
democratic institutions or came
to this country to enjoy the advantages
which they offered, should arouse
in us a profound respect for them. We
should at least make an earnest
1 For an excellent evaluation of the
genealogist's contribution to biography and
history, see Francis P. Weisenburger, "The
Personal Element in History," Ohio
State Archaeological and
Historical Quarterly (Columbus,
1887- ), XLVIII (1939),
153-63.