There is Not Money Enough in the World

Frank A. Munsey in Munsey's Magazine June 1 1908

There is Not Money Enough in the World

Frank A. Munsey in Munsey's Magazine June 1 1908

There is Not Money Enough in the World

Frank A. Munsey in Munsey's Magazine

To Do the World’s Work—The Legitimate Demand for Cash is Enormous — As the Human Race Develops it Takes More Money to Finance It—Greater Requirements of the People Owing to Citizenship Rising to Higher Levels.

AS far back as the early part of last summer I scheduled an article on this subject for Munsey’s Magazine, and I intended writing it then, while the thought was fresh in my mind. It was suggested by the excessive price of money, the smash that had already taken place in the security market, and the tremendous onrush of our industries and commercial affairs. Indeed, no one could view the situation thoughtfully at that time without feeling assured of the truth of this contention, that there wasn’t money enough in the world to do the world’s work as we were then doing it—money enough to keep up the pace at which we were then going, a pace that was all the while accelerating itself.

With all the necessary things that fell to me to do, it was difficult to get started on this extra piece of work, and so the weeks went by, midsummer came, and then I went to Europe for a rest, promising myself that I would write the article while away on my vacation. But work and vacations do not mix happily. They are antagonistic to each other. The time to do things, to create things, is when one is busiest, when his brain is at white heat. And so, too, the time to play is when one is playing. It is surprising how indolent, how idle, one can become, how repellent and impossible work is to him, until he really gets back in the harness.

I wish very much that I had discussed this theme at the time I first c

scheduled it, for I should now be on record as having foreseen the panic that followed in October, and having set forth the causes that were leading up to it. But with the befogged ideas that now prevail so widely concerning the conditions that caused the panic, it is perhaps quite as timely and important to discuss the subject now as it was several months before it actually happened.


The first thing a physician does, when he is called in to see a patient, is to find out what is wrong. He studies the symptoms and all conditions underlying these symptoms— the work, the worry, the exposure, the unusual strain to which the patient has been subjected. And with the facts before him, together with what he can learn of the man’s temperament, his tendencies, his vital forces, the physician forms his diagnosis. Until he has done this he can make no intelligent move looking toward the relief of the sick man. A diagnosis of the case is the basic move with a physician, and the success of his treatment depends upon the accuracy of the diagnosis. In the very nature of the case, a false conclusion would lead him to administer treatment that would work injury to the patient.

And it is equally important with us, when we have suffered a serious financial and business setback, to get a correct diagnosis of the trouble.

With this knowledge we can make intelligent progress ; without it we move forward gropingly.


Wall Street and the followers of Wall Street assert with bitterness that President Roosevelt is responsible for the panic. 1 don't believe there is one little bit of truth in this assertion. I don't believe that an accurate analysis of the facts and the conditions obtaining prior to the crash will sustain any such conclusion. Mr. Roosevelt had just about as much to do with it as any one of you had, or as I had. The crash was inevitable. It was two years overdue when it came, and it would have come the same whether Mr. Roosevelt had been in the White House, or any one else had been there. Mr. Roosevelt didn’t make our prosperity, neither did he take it away from us. The break came through natural causes. No human power could have averted it.

In the panic of 1902 Mr. Morgan was the scapegoat. Wall Street held him responsible, and damned him as insanely and as viciously as it now damns the President, and the wail of Wall Street has swept well over the whole country.

The break in securities in the spring of last year was a thing apart from the money panic of last fall. I want to emphasize this fact, as it has an important bearing on the present discussion. It was the money panic that closed down our factories and so seriously palsied our business activities— not the March crash in Wall Street. The latter was merely the first shock of the earthquake. The second, which completed the work of disaster, came in October. If we had had a larger volume of money, or could have drawn it from other countries—a sufficient amount of money with which to carry on our work—we should have had no break in securities last spring, and no panic last fall. Both were primarily due to the lack of money.

The legitimate demand for money

was enormous—that is, for money to 34

be used in our commercial affairs, in our factories, on our farms, in business, in the building trade and the thousand and one other trades, as well as the vast sums called for by our railroads and steamship lines. And all this was supplemented by a fabulous demand on the part of the speculative world—a demand that was in itself positively astounding.

Wages were going up as the prices of stocks went up. And the prices of the commodities of the farm, and the shop, and the factory, kept pace with this upward swing. Everything was getting on a new basis, and everybody had money. The fever for speculation seized everybody, and everybody bought securities of one kind and another, some good, some bad, some hopelessly worthless, but all alike fortune-winners. And as these purchasers came into the market they helped the gamblers and the financiers to bid up still further the prices of stocks.

Factories all over the .land were running on full time, and overtime, and running night and day, and still the orders could not be filled. And factories everywhere were enlarged, the majority doubled, quadrupled. All this rebuilding took money—vast . sums of money. The whole country was being reorganized and rebuilt on bigger and broader lines. In every phase of industry, from the farm up, new methods were put in force, and old machinery and old buildings were being swept away, only to be replaced by bigger and bigger creations.


We could get no help from Europe, for Europe itself wanted money. England wanted money; France wanted money ; Russia wanted money ; Italy wanted money ; Belgium wanted money, and Germany, most of all, wanted money. And so, too, the Far East wanted money, the Philippines, Japan, and China wanted money. And they all needed money, needed it as we needed it, because with them, as with us, the process of reorganiza-

tion, the work of rebuilding the world, had set in in very fact.

But there wasn’t money enough to carry on this reorganizing, rebuilding process. The world hadn’t money enough to do its work as we were then doing it. As the human race develops it takes more money to finance it, just as it takes more money to finance a hundred-million-dollar business than it does a ten-million-dollar business. As our citizenship rises to higher levels, our people require better homes, more comforts, better dress, better foods, shorter hours, more play, greater luxuries, and bigger wages. And as they earn more money, and spend more money, and live bigger and fuller lives, the country must have a larger circulating medium. Replace the dimes of former days with dollars, in the pockets of the eighty millions, and we at once call for a fabulous expansion of our circulating medium.


As far back as two or two and a half years ago, money in Wall Street reached the deadly price of one hundred and twenty-five per cent, on call —that is, money borrowed from day to day. It was even higher at that time, and on many occasions meanwhile, than during the panic of last fall, with the exception of a single day. Time and time again, during the two years before the crash, call money rose to twenty, thirty, and fifty per cent., sometimes going to eighty and one hundred per cent, and upward. And time money—that is, money hired for a specific period, say two months, three months, six months —was likewise at the danger-point. But the higher it went, and the higher call money went, the higher the gamblers and manipulators of the market forced up securities.

And the strange thing about it all was that prices were maintained in the very roar of the oncoming disaster, and run up higher, and higher, as money bounded skyward. The world has never seen such nerve and daring as was exhibited by the men

responsible for this condition. It was a kind of optimism that challenged admiration—an exhibition of gambling so audacious as to turn men’s heads and verily make them believe that there was no such thing possible as a break in prices. Every one pointed to the magic growth of our industries, and every one said it meant bigger dividends, and higher, and higher, and still higher prices for securities. And every one saw millions in the air, was hypnotized and paralyzed by the display of wealth and the stories of fortune-building in a day.


What mattered it if we were paying an average of fifteen or twenty per cent, for money with which to carry our stocks? It would be only a few days, or a few weeks at most, before we should get an advance of five, ten or perhaps twenty points. The very thought of interest was petty, small, silly. These advances meant thousands, hundreds of thousands—meant millionaires, automobiles, steam yachts, a racing stable, a box at the opera, a palace on the avenue-meant all this and a thousand things more that dazzle the fancy and set the imagination on fire.

And so the plunging went on, and in the mad frenzy of intoxication stocks were again and again marked up—marked up to a price that made their dividends yield only two or three per cent., with money costing ten, fifteen, and twenty per cent. The greed for fortune-building and the general surrender to the gambling instinct swept men clear from the moorings of common sense. The cry of success was contagious. Few escaped its influence. The protests of wise old heads were drowned by the mighty chorus of prosperity that filled the world with song and laughter. These were merry days, with never a thought of the onrushing storm that brought disaster and desolation and despair.

If sanity instead of insanity had obtained. the prices of securities would have fallen in corresponding ratio with the advance in the price of

money. Stocks should pay a larger return in dividends than money brings in the market. That is, if money at any given period is worth five per cent., stocks ought to yield six per cent. The normal ratio may not be exactly this, but the illustration serves to make clear my thought. Of course, the prospective advance or decline of securities has a vital bearing on their value, regardless of the immediate income they bring. But generally speaking, securities running ornan even keel—that is, with no special probability of either decline or advance, should yield a bigger income than the interest to be had for money. This is true for the reason that money is money, it is always worth one hundred cents on a dollar, whereas with securities there is at best an element of risk in holding them.


I particularly want to make this clear to emphasize the madness that possessed Wall Street and all speculative centres two years ago, and all the way up to the time when the break came in the price of securities in March, 1907.

If, with the advance in the interest rates of money, securities had gradually fallen in price, we should have escaped the disaster that culminated at that time. This break was the beginning of the end of high prices. It was a slaughter of both the innocents and the professionals. Hundreds of millions of dollars, almost billions, went crashing down the abyss, dragging with them the mangled bodies of thousands and tens of thousands of security-holders. Among them were an army of men who had been holding on to their stocks, hoping at first for a fortune, then for a good turn, and finally for a chance to get out without loss. But the crash blasted their hopes and left many of them in bankruptcy, or on its very verge.

It was called a rich man’s panic, because it felled so many rich men. All grades of men, however, were caught, from clerks to multimillionaires. A desperate effort was made

to regain the lost ground, but it was unavailing. There was no concerted action, no heart in the movement. Bankers, capitalists and speculators alike saw the hand-writing on the wall. This March crash was merely a break in the price of securities. It had no immediate effect in the channels of business. In manufactures and in commerce men laughed at Wall Street, secure as they saw themselves in their own strongholds of prosperity. And all the spring and summer through, and, in fact, until within a few days of the panic itself, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky of the business and industrial world.

But the very thing happened that has always happened under like conditions. The March shake-up was only the precursor of a like disaster in general business. The gambling in Wall Street and on other exchanges was no more marked, no more irrational, no more desperate than was the gamble in the so-called legitimate lines of business.

The same insane spirit was everywhere and in all phases of activity. It permeated the whole community— the home as well as the factory and the counting-room. The whole world had become one glorified rainbow of radiant tints—a world in which all trails led upward to yet more alluring heights.

And with this surcharged optimism inspiring a people of ninety millions, one vast ocean of people, on and on to greater activities, our circulating medium, our money, was strained to the breaking point.


Wall Street, and I use Wall Street as a synonym for all speculating centres, has claimed that it is not so much a question of the amount of money we have in circulation as it is of confidence.

Assuming that this is true, isn’t there a limit to the extent to which the theory can be operative? For example, if one million of dollars will do the work of five millions, amply sustained by confidence, and if five millions represents the limit of safety,

what happens when it is put to the strain of twenty millions—nineteen millions of credit to one of gold?

Well, it was something like this that did happen. There wasn’t money enough in the world to finance our railroads and the other great corporations, to finance our factories, and shops, and merchandizing establishments, to rebuild our cities with modern sky-scrapers, and to keep up the high-pressure pace generally of whiteheat production and matchless extravagance.

In New York alone, the average annual expenditure for new buildings ^nd alterations and decorations, during the last two years, was approximately two hundred and fifty million dollars—and this is but a single city. The same thing is going on over the entire country.

Another hundred million dollars went into bridges of one kind and another, last year, in the United States. And the railroads of the country, including street railways, put into new construction and rollingstock, in 1907, an amount well over half a billion of dollars, and perhaps as much as three-quarters of a billion.

These three or four items merely suggest the terrific rate at which we were burning up capital, and all were legitimate expenditures in the natural development of the country.


Traffic was so heavy and business so enormous that the railroads were hopelessly inadequate to meet the demands upon them. They were literally groaning under the burdens of prosperity. They couldn’t handle the business of the country. It was only a year ago last winter that in the Dakotas the people found themselves in danger of freezing to death for want of coal, which the railroads could not haul, congested as they were with the mountains of freight hurled at them. So great was this congestion that many shopkeepers in the extreme Northwest did not get their Christmas goods until long after the holidays were over—not until late in January or February.

James J. Hill, the Napoleon of railroading, about that time pointed out the critical dangers of the situation, and the hopeless incapacity ot our transportation system to Keep pace with the growth of our industries and the output of the soil. He urged that money should be found somewhere with which to double both the trackage and the equipment of all our railroads. But where and how to raise this money was a problem that staggered him. It meant billions and billions of dollars.

Hundreds of millions in new stock, and hundreds and hundreds of millions in bonds, had been issued and cashed in. This money had already gone into extensions and new rolling stock, but it hardly made a dent in the situation. The increased demands of shippers all the while exceeded the increased capacity of the railroads.


With the March break in stocks, the money markets of the world closed their doors to our railroads and other corporations. So long as the prices of their securities were kept up, and were all the while advancing, railroads could sell bonds and place new issues of stock. But with the crash all this changed, and railroads have been "up against it” ever since. They have been unable to float their securities in Europe, and have had to pay excessive rates of interest here at home, and on short-time notes at that, to meet maturing obligations. It was do this, pay whatever price the banks demanded for money, or go into bankruptcy, as some roads have done, and done wisely, I fancy.

This embarrassment of the railroads was at once charged up to President Roosevelt by Wall Street, and bv railroad managements, and is still charged to him. Their wail is that he discredited our securities both at home and abroad. But do the facts in the case justify this charge? If I reason correctly, they do not, emphatically do not. I repeat that the wholesale borrowing capacity of railroads came to an end with the March

crash. That was what shook confi-

deuce, or destroyed confidence—not any act or utterance of Mr. Roosevelt.

Prior to the March crash there had been no talk about the President destroying confidence in our securities. This panic came about because there wasn’t money enough to keep up the pace—came about because securities had been forced up to a point at which they could not be maintained. When this condition occurs it is inevitable that prices must get back to bed-rock. And they rarely come down gradually. They come down as they did in March, with a crash and a bang— swinging as far below their value as they had swung above it.

I am not discussing this theme for the purpose of defending President Roosevelt. I am discussing it to get at the truth of the situation, as an accurate knowledge of the causes of the panic is both desirable and necessary in the reawakening, the revivifying of our business activities. If the facts acquit the President, he is entitled to the acquittal.


The second upheaval, the money panic of October, was a result of the first crash and the conditions that followed. I have discussed the subject at length, in order to make clear the conditions leading up to the March slump.

And now something about the money panic itself. The latter first cropped out in the Mercantile National Bank and the National Bank of North America, two institutions that formed part of the so-called Morse chain of banks. This was the beginning of Morse’s troubles, and it gave the public a glimpse of the gymnastics in high finance that he, and Heinze. and the Thomases, and Barney of the Knickerbocker Trust Company had been performing. The difficulties that developed in these two banks resulted in Morse and his associates resigning from their management, and also brought about Morse’s resignation from the New Amsterdam and several other banks that he had controlled. His action was fol-

lowed almost immediately by Barney’s sudden resignation of the presidency of the Knickerbocker Trust Company, the announcement of which was accompanied by the statement that this great financial institution was in trouble.

i'he news was a shock to the nerves of every one. I'he Knickerbocker had been looked upon as one of the great trust companies of the country, and Barney had been regarded by the public as a genius in finance. Few outside of the banking fraternity had ever suspected him capable of getting his institution into financial difficulties. The Knickerbocker had the confidence of the people, and had the largest line of individual depositors of all the trust companies of the city, probably the largest of any banking institution in the country, with the exception of savings banks.


The report in the newspapers that something was wrong with the Knickerbocker, and that Barney had been forced to resign as president', caused an immediate run on the bank. It withstood the pressure for half a day, and then closed its doors. And the closing of the Knickerbocker’s doors spread distrust broadcast and threw the community into a panic. Runs began immediately on other trust companies, and began also on all, or nearly all, of the chain of Morse banks and other banks that were either weak in themselves or were without strong connections. Some of these banks withstood the siege, and others were pushed to the wall.

Thus the money panic started here in New York, and thus it spread from one institution to another in NewYork. And it leaped the boundaries of the city and swept like a cyclone over the whole country. The handling of the Knickerbocker on the part of our bankers was scarcely less than criminal in its shortsightedness. Had they kept Barney at the head of the institution and kept all knowledge of bank’s difficulties from the public, it is possible, perhaps even prob-

able, that the panic of last October would never have materialized.

But overextended as Morse and his associates were, having “pyramided” as they had—that is, using the securities of one institution to control another, and those of another to control another, and those of still another to control another, and so on, and on, and on, until a dozen or more concerns were involved—they were in no condition to withstand the financial strain to which they were put in the awful stringency of the money market last fall. Something had to give way.


There was more, however, than appeared on the surface in this matter. Morse had never been a welcome factor in the banking community of New York. He was brilliant, dashing, courageous, and the intrenched bankers looked upon him with distrust. He was not one of them. His methods were not their methods. He was clever and daring—a disturbing and disquieting element in the banking circles of the metropolis. Beginning with a single bank, he added to his holdings until he had under his control, directly or indirectly, well-nigh a dozen financial institutions. The bankers had been gunning for him. But he had been alert, elusive, resourceful, and all their efforts to eliminate him from the banking business of New York had failed ignominiously until last October.

When the elimination came, it came with a crash that shook up the whole financial world. Morse and his associates were not the only men who were overextended. There were thousands of them—yes, tens of thousands—all over the country. But Morse in particular was hit hardest. He at once became the storm-centre of the cyclone.

Crashing as he did, he and his associates were primarily responsible for the panic. Through them Barney had tied up himself and his bank, and because of this fact followed the failure of the Knickerbocker Trust Company.

I have recounted this phase of the situation, too, at some length, with the view to making clear the causes of the money panic—-the things that set it going. Once started, a panic, and especially a money panic, sweeps from ocean to ocean. There is no stopping it until it has run its course.


The trend of this discussion has been to show that there wasn't money enough in circulation to prevent the panic, but in strict accordance with my subject I want to say that there isn't money enough in the world today to do the world’s work.

For the minute, yes, money enough, money piled up in our banks, hoarded there because bankers are afraid to let it out. Start up our industries and our commerce again as they will start up, and we shall soon find ourselves in the same straits we were in before. In a word, we must have more money with which to carry on our work and to continue our development, or we must keep the wheels of progress slowed down. The money isn’t coming out of the ground fast enough to meet the new conditions of life, notwithstanding the fact that our per capita amount is larger than ever before. Our requirements have much more than kept pace with this per capita increase.

My argument in this discussion is not for cheap money. I stand for no such thing. We must have as good money as there is in the world— standard money. And it ought to be in the genius of our people so to enlarge our circulating medium as to meet the rational requirements of the times. It should be large enough to help our development instead of cramping and dwarfing it. The Aidrich Bill, now before Congress, will, if it becomes a law, furnish a measure of relief. But it is at best little more than a start in financial thinking and financial legislation that should evolve something bigger and broader and better suited to the twentieth century than our present monetary system.

And I am not advocating a wider circulating medium as a plea for the

speculators. It matters not whether we have much money or little money, we shall always have speculation, and its activity will, as a rule, be proportionate to the activity of general business. The buying and selling of securities—stocks and bonds—is the same thing as speculating in cotton and corn and wheat and cattle and farms and city real estate. So long as there is buying and selling in the world, just so long there will be speculation. To control speculation by wisely framed laws is the desirable thing—so to control it that it will not work injury to our legitimate interests and general welfare. As a matter of fact, every move in life carries with it an element of risk—is in very truth a speculation.


But back of the last three or four years of overstrained business and overstrained speculation, we had such an aggregate amount of high finance —much of it colossal stealing—as would well-nigh bankrupt a nation. All this played its part, and a very big part, in our present depression. A new order of things has come about, however. The grand dukes of finance and the grand dukes of politics are no longer in the saddle. And the credit for routing these forces belongs in large measure to Air. Roosevelt, who has had the courage to make redhot war on dishonesty and corrupt methods and corrupt practises whereever he has found them.

There has never before been a time when we were sweeping on as we are now. Everything is changing, our theories, our conceptions and our business methods. To hold to the dead past is to be dead ; to keep step with the inevitable changes is to live. Let us make ourselves a part of the new ideals and help to fashion them into practical things—so to fashion them that they will give an uplift to our whole civilization. Roosevelt’s radicalism of to-day will have crystallized into conservatism five years from to-day, and the men wTio are now criticizing him so bitterly will then deny their criticisms.


Mr. Roosevelt better interprets the thoughts and wishes of all the people than any other man we have had in public life in a hundred years. And in the fight lie has made for humanity and for honesty and the square deal for all—for rich and poor alike—he has advanced this country in whatever makes for better government and better ideals and greater safety to capital and to investors—has advanced it half a century.

That he has not punished criminals is because the scope of the law falls short of reaching them. In high finance every move on the chess-board has been made under the guidance of men most skilled in the law. And since all punishment must come through the law—this same law of which the manipulators have made use to protect themselves—what chance is there of apprehending and convicting them?

But after all, a dozen convictions, more or less, are of little importance as compared with the far-reaching effect of focusing public attention at white-heat on honest methods, right methods. In this Mr. Roosevelt has done his greatest work—has done a work that no one of less courage, less impetuosity, and less fighting qualities could have done.

A mild-mannered gentleman would have suited the grand dukes of finance and of politics, but he would not have fitted the times. Mr. Roosevelt has fitted the times. He is the best living example of the new idea in politics— a President of the people and for the people—a man of fibre and grit and gristle and nerve—and, withal, a man of intellect and breadth of vision and rock-ribbed honesty to match well the fight there is in him.

If Mr. Roosevelt is all this and has done all these things, and if my analysis of the financial crash is sound, wouldn’t we do well to hold fast to him until he has finished the job he has undertaken—until he has concreted into the laws of the land the principles for which he stands so strenuously? Complete these reforms, and

our railroads and other corporations will be in a stronger and safer position than ever before. Their stocks and bonds will be the soundest and best in the world.

Has any other man the courage and the firmness and the ability to carry out this work? Possibly, but why take chances, why experiment when we have a leader who leads, a man who does things?

And no man has a right to say he won’t serve the people as their President when they demand it—no right to refuse so long as he has the health to stand up under the work. The biggest business organization under God’s blue sky is the United States government. Beside it, in its enormous scope, in the utter vastness of its responsibilities, every other corporation in America is but a pebble to a mountain—a mere speck on the face of the earth—as it not only covers the affairs of the government itself, but embraces as well the entire activities and interests of the whole country. That we need a big man to head such an organization is too apparent for discussion.


I have no sympathy with the protests we so often hear against the President influencing legislation. With a Senate of ninety men and a House of three hundred and eightysix members, and all fighting for local interests and local graft, as well as political prestige, there would be mighty little first-rate national legislation forced through Congress if there were no leader outside of Congress. The original scheme of the independence of the executive and legislative branches of the government, if such was really intended by the framers of the Constitution, was all well enough for our little country of three millions of people and thirteen States. Then we had twenty-six Senators and sixty-five Representatives—bodies so small that concentration of purpose was not difficult.

Moreover, the country was compact. It had but a fraction of its area of to-day, and but a fraction of its

present vast variety of interest. Then we were a domestic organization ; today we are a world-power. Then we were poor and struggling; to-day our resources well-nigh match half the wealth of all the world. I repeat, therefore, that we need a leader at the head of such an organization, the best man, the biggest man of all the men of the nation. It is not a question of what his politics is, but of what he is —what he can do.


There are never many very big men in the world at any one time. In statesmanship, considered apart from crowned heads, there isn’t a man in all Europe to-day who measures up to the stature of the great figures of history. There are many strong men, sound men, able men, but no great leaders, no great rugged types of over-powering and compelling genius.

In literature, we have Kipling, one solitary figure, moving along the trail blazed by those of the first rank. In portraiture another solitary figure, John S. Sargent. Like Kipling, he treads the rugged steep alone. It is too far a cry from his altitude to reach the human ear on the lower stretches.

And in other fields of art the topmost slope reveals no evidence of the fresh footprints of man. In banking we have Morgan, the plumed knight of finance. There is but one Morgan in America, and Europe has no one in his class. He stands out alone among all the thousands of bankers of the two continents. But Morgan is more than a banker. He is a constructive genius.

In business even, that vast arena in which tens of thousands measure their strength, we have less than half a dozen men of towering ability. Among these are John D. Rockefeller, Andrew Carnegie and J. J. Hill, all men of commanding figure and matchless ability in the upbuilding of properties. What a pitiable percentage out of the great army in this field ! To get a Kipling and a Sargent out of the relatively small number en-

gaged in literature and art means an overwhelming percentage when compared with the few geniuses of the very first grade we find in the business world.

Among rulers the old world has but one genius, one man who as both ruler and statesman stands conspicuously above all others of the present

time—William of Germany. In innate force, in marvelous vision, in courage and constructive leadership, he measures up to the stature of a really great king. The only other ruler in his class to-day in all the world is on this side of the Atlantic— our own President, Theodore Roosevelt.