David Saville Muzzey was widely recognized for most of the twentieth century as the greatest writer of U.S. history textbooks in the nation. He was a historian at Barnard College, Columbia University, and he was a gifted storyteller.

His books read as the work of a single writer, vigorous, thoughtful, and opinionated, but not in a partisan sense. He knew history and he knew how to write the great stories and weave facts into a coherent narrative. The first edition of Muzzey’s textbook was printed in 1911 and was so popular that it was regularly updated. At some point, I am not sure exactly whether it was before or after his death, his popular textbooks became a committee project, and over time they lost the distinctive quality that had made them so beloved. That distinctive quality was, of course, his voice. Over time, they were ground down into the voiceless and turgid informational text that we associate with the typical history textbook.

Many years ago, I found a first edition of Muzzey’s An American History. The front cover is spotted and the spine is broken but the prose still sparkles.

I want to share with you his concluding paragraph. Set aside for the moment his omission of women and his reference to the nations vying to control “the destinies of the undeveloped races,” which dates him. But what is not dated is his message. It speaks to us today, a century later:

The problems of a democracy are ever changing to meet the developing needs and the unfolding ideals of the people. Our problem in America at the opening of the twentieth century is no longer that of George Washington’s day,–to establish the forms and powers of a republican government; nor that of Andrew Jackson’s day,–to admit to a full share in that government the sturdy manhood of the nation; nor that of Abraham Lincoln’s day,–to save the life of the Union while cutting from it the cancer of slavery; nor that of William McKinley’s day,–to introduce the United States among the nations which are to control the destinies of the undeveloped races of the world. To-day we are rich, united, powerful. But the very material prosperity which is our boast menaces the life of our democracy. The power of money threatens to choke the power of law. The spirit of gain is sacrificing to its insatiable greed the spirit of brotherhood and the very life of the toilers of the land–even the joyous years of tender childhood. Unless we are to sink into ignoble slavery or fall a prey to horrid revolution, the manhood of the nation must rise in its moral strength to restore our democratic institutions to the real control of the people, to assert the superiority of men over machines, and the value of a brotherhood of social cooperation and mutual goodwill above the highest statistics of commercial gain. Our noble mission is still to realize the promise of the immortal words of Abraham Lincoln, that “government of the people, by the people, and for the people shall not perish from the earth.”