atent which was dated July
8, 1862, covering "a revolving tower for defensive and offensive
warfare, whether on land or water." Ericsson's associates in the
business of building monitors for the Government acquired these patents
of Timby, presumably as shrewd business men, in order to quiet any claim
on his part, and to have the plan available for land forts, should the
opportunity arise to push the business in this direction. There is no
question but that Ericsson was antedated by Timby in the suggestion of a
revolving turret, at least in so far as public notice is concerned.
Ericsson frankly admitted this, and stated that he made no claim to
absolute originality in this respect. He further stated what is
undoubtedly true, that the main idea in the turret, that of a circular
revolving fort, antedates the Nineteenth Century as a whole, and its
origin is lost in the uncertainties of early tradition. It is simply one
of those early ideas which naturally must have been known in essence
since time immemorial, and as such it was the common property of the
engineering practice of the century. It belongs neither to Timby nor to
Ericsson, and no claims regarding priority in this respect are worthy of
serious consideration. The question is not who first conceived the idea
of a revolving fort, but who designed and built the "Monitor" as she
was, and as she met the "Merrimac" on the 9th of March, 1862. The answer
to the latter is too well known a part of the history of the times to
admit of question or to call for further notice. Ericsson's claim for
recognition in this respect rests not on any priority of idea regarding
the use of a circular fort, but rather upon the actual "Monitor" as she
was built and as she crushed at one blow the sea-power of the South, and
representing as it did a completely and carefully designed whole, dating
back to the earlier dealings with Napoleon III. in 1854. This is an age
which judges men by what they do, and judged by this standard Ericsson's
claims in connection with the monitor type of warship are never likely
to be seriously questioned.

Taking Ericsson's life and work, what portion remains as a permanent
acquisition or as a part of the practice of the present age? This is a
question which merits at least a moment's notice.

We should not make the mistake of thinking that permanency is
necessarily a test of merit, or that the value of his services to the
world should be judged by such parts o