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MEMOIR 
 
 / 
 
 OF 
 
 / 
 
 JOSEPH CURTIS, 
 
 A MODEL MAN. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OP , 
 
 “MEANS AND ENDS,” “the LINWOODS,” “hope LESLIE,” 
 
 “live and let live,” etc., etc. 
 
 “ I pray thee -write me, then, 
 
 As one, at least, who loves his fellow-men. 
 
 The angel wrote and vanished. The next night 
 He came again with great awakening light, 
 
 And showed those names which love of God had blessed, 
 And lo! Ben Adam's name led all the rest /” 
 
 \ 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 FRANKLIN SQUARE. 
 
 1 8 58 . 
 
 
.tfv 
 • *8 
 
 ♦ tri r \ \ m 
 
 BOSTON COLLEGE LIBRARY 
 
 HILL, 
 
 m I 1965 
 
 x 
 
 \ 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight 
 hundred and fifty-eight, by 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, 
 
 in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the Southern District of 
 
 New York. 
 
TO THE 
 
 v 
 
 FRIENDS OF JOSEPH CURTIS, 
 
 AND 
 
 ) 
 
 TO THE YOUNG PEOPLE OF THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF 
 
 NEW YORK, 
 
 2C1)ts i&emott 
 
 OF THEIR DEVOTED FRIEND AND HELPER 
 IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED, 
 
 BY HIS FRIEND, 
 
 C. M. SEDGWICK. 
 
 New York, 25th June, 1S5S. 
 

 
 
 
 
 _ 
 
 * , :r 
 
 1 
 
 - 
 
 ■ 
 
 ' 
 
 I" I ;.M' 
 
 s' 
 
 . ‘ 
 
 
 
 
 
 * 
 
% 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 / 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 I. BOYHOOD. 7 
 
 n. CLERKSHIP AND MARRIAGE. 25 
 
 HI. HOME LIFE. 36 
 
 IV. THE MANUMISSION SOCIETY. 54 
 
 V. THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 61 
 
 VI. SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. 107 
 
 VII. THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 136 
 
 VIII. CLOSE OF LIFE. 176 
 

MEMOIR 
 
 OF 
 
 JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BOYHOOD. 
 
 “The child is father to the man.” 
 
 It was the fashion of the elder times to go 
 to oracles to learn what the course of a man’s 
 
 «• I ■ i 
 
 life was to be. To our young friends we say 
 there are surer oracles than that of Delphos in 
 your own every-day lives. Observe your play¬ 
 mates. Mark those who treat their parents and 
 teachers with respect and obedience, and those 
 who do not; those who use no profane or inde¬ 
 cent language; who speak the truth; who keep 
 their promises ; who are kind and free-hearted; 
 
8 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 who do not seek any advantage that will cause 
 suffering or loss to others; and then look at 
 the other sort among you, and you can tell, 
 better than any oracle, what kind of men and 
 women they will prove. Sometimes, from a 
 single action, much of the character can be 
 learned. Hugh Miller, in his life of himself, 
 gives the following anecdote of the childhood 
 of his father: “ Rather more than eighty years 
 ago,” he says, u a stout little boy was sent from 
 a farm-house, in the parish of Cromarty, to 
 drown a litter of puppies in the adjacent pond. 
 
 » 
 
 The commission seemed to be not in the least 
 congenial. He sat down beside the pond, and 
 began to cry over his charge, and finally, after 
 wasting some time in a paroxysm of indecision 
 and sorrow, instead of committing the puppies 
 to the water, he tucked them up in his kilt, and 
 set out on a blind pathway, which went wind¬ 
 ing through the stunted heath of the dreary 
 Moulbay Common, in a direction opposite to 
 that of the farm-house. After some doubtful 
 wandering on the waste, he succeeded in reach- 
 
BOYHOOD. 
 
 9 
 
 ing, before nightfall, the neighboring sea-port 
 town, and presented himself, laden with his 
 charge, at his mother’s door. The poor wom¬ 
 an, a sailor’s widow, in very hnmble circum¬ 
 stances, raised her hands in astonishment: 
 4 Ah! my unlucky boy,’ she exclaimed, 4 what’s 
 this ? What brings you here ?’ 
 
 44 £ The little doggies, mother,’ said the boy; 
 4 1 could na drown the doggies, and I took them 
 to you.’ ” This tender-hearted little boy, w r hen 
 he grew up, and became the master of a sailing 
 vessel as he did, was sure to prove the kind 
 and loved master that he was. 
 
 You have all heard of Benedict Arnold; you 
 know he was the only man that proved a traitor 
 to his country in the war of the Bevolution. 
 The boy was as false as the man. 44 One of his 
 earliest amusements,” says his biographer, 44 was 
 the robbing of birds’-nests in sight of the old 
 ones, that he might be diverted by their cries.” 
 He was apprenticed to some worthy druggists. 
 44 Near their shop was a schoolhouse, and he 
 would scatter in the paths broken pieces of 
 
10 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 glass taken from the crates, by which the chil¬ 
 dren would cut their feet in coming from the 
 school. The cracked and imperfect vials 
 which came in the crates were perquisites of 
 the apprentices. Hopkins, a fellow-apprentice, 
 and an amiable youth, was in the habit of plac¬ 
 ing his share on the outside of the shop, near 
 the door, and permitting the small boys to take 
 them away, who were pleased with this token 
 of his good-will. Arnold followed the same 
 practice; but when he had decoyed the boys, 
 and they were busy picking up the broken 
 vials, he would rush out of the shop with a 
 horsewhip in his hand, call them thieves, and 
 beat them without mercy.” “Even a child 
 is known by his doings.” 
 
 “ Arnold was likewise fond of rash feats of 
 daring, always foremost in danger, and as fear¬ 
 less as he was wickedly mischievous. Some¬ 
 times he took corn to a grist-mill in the neigh¬ 
 borhood ; and, while waiting for the meal, he 
 would amuse himself and astonish his playmate*? 
 by clinging to the arms of a large water-wheel, 
 
BOYHOOD. 
 
 11 
 
 and passing with it beneath and above the wa¬ 
 ter.” In this he manifested, while yet a boy, 
 the intrepidity that, when he became a man and 
 a soldier, won for him the admiration of his 
 countrymen and the confidence of General 
 Washington. But the evil qualities that were 
 betrayed in robbing birds’-nests and strewing 
 glass under the poor little boys’ feet eclipsed 
 all his brave deeds. 
 
 Some memories of your friend Joseph Curtis, 
 which have been preserved in his family, will 
 show you how like the boy was to the man, 
 ever ready to do kindness and to explore the 
 paths of knowledge. “Joseph,” says one of 
 his relatives, now in the decline of life, “was 
 never known to quarrel, or strike a brother or 
 sister. At school he took the part of the weak¬ 
 est. If he saw one boy domineering over an¬ 
 other, he stood by the oppressed. The little 
 boys all looked to Joseph as their champion.” 
 In those days it was the custom, as it still is in 
 some rural districts, for the children to carry 
 their dinners to school, and to eat it at noon 
 
12 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 during tire hour’s interval. If there were any 
 poor little fellow for whom no portion was pro¬ 
 vided, Joseph shared with him ‘ the fat and the 
 sweet’ — the bread and butter, cold sausage, 
 nut-cakes, apples, and nuts, that formed the 
 relishing schoolboys’ lunch of those (anti-dys¬ 
 pepsia) days. If, by dividing, he could not sat¬ 
 isfy ‘the poor boys,’ he gave them all, and de¬ 
 ferred his appetite to his supper, when he was 
 sure to be fed, and they were not. 
 
 On one cold winter day—and cold winter 
 days are bitter in New England—Joseph came 
 home without his mittens. His fingers were 
 stiffened, and he was rebuked for losing his 
 mittens. He said nothing in self-defense till 
 farther reproof made him confess that he had 
 given them to one of the little poor boys. 
 
 A proof of the tenderness of his heart and of 
 his consideration (a rare virtue with young peo¬ 
 ple) was long gratefully remembered and re¬ 
 counted by a poor woman of Danbury, some 
 ten years Joseph’s senior. She was afflicted 
 with paroxysms of insanity, and at those times 
 
BOYHOOD. 
 
 / 
 
 13 
 
 she wandered about the village with an im¬ 
 pression that she was pursued and persecuted. 
 At other times “ Uncle Reuben’s” was her house 
 of refuge, from a feeling (as she said when she 
 recovered her reason) that if she could find Jo¬ 
 seph, “he would protect and comfort her,” and 
 so he did. “He would,” she said, “say to me, 
 1 How, aunt, I know you want something,’ and 
 he would leave his play, and give me some re¬ 
 freshment, and coax me home; and when the 
 boys beset me, he would make them fly.” 
 
 There was a noted old drinking loafer in 
 Danbury, who went from house to house ask¬ 
 ing for a mug of cider, a rustic hospitality 
 rarely refused in those days of abounding cider- 
 presses. But Joseph Curtis, even in his boy¬ 
 hood, was too thoughtful in his kindness to 
 minister to destructive appetites; and one day, 
 when this fellow called at Uncle Reuben’s, Jo¬ 
 seph filled the mug from the brine in the beef- 
 barrel. The old man eagerly put it to his lips 
 and swallowed a heavy draught, and then, 
 without speaking, set the mug quietly down 
 
14 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 and left the house, and did not return to it for 
 many months. 
 
 Joseph Curtis very early manifested that au¬ 
 thority over inferior spirits in man or beast 
 that seems to be a divine inspiration. His 
 Danbury cotemporaries remember that when 
 he was but eight years old he astonished them 
 with his courage in mounting young horses and 
 his prowess in riding them. While he was 
 yet a boy, he was renowned for his skill in 
 breaking horses. “He had,” they said, “the 
 knack of it”—a knack partly explained by his 
 
 “ seldom using the whip, and never abusively.” 
 
 > ? 
 
 In addition to his gentleness, he had patience 
 and perseverance — qualities that horses com¬ 
 prehend almost as well as men. Nearly sixty 
 years of city life did not inure him to the abuse 
 of horses. He often interfered to save them 
 from what he termed “ infuriated ignorance.” 
 
 Some boys will play at marbles through their 
 childhood without thinking how they are made 
 or what they consist of. When Joseph was 
 about four years old, a marble was given to 
 
BOYHOOD* 
 
 15 
 
 him. It was the first he had ever seen. He 
 admired its smoothness and roundness, but how 
 came it so ? He was told it was made of sand. 
 He was not satisfied. The marble was hard, 
 he thought, and how could it be made of sand ? 
 He went to bed pondering on the unexplained 
 mystery. He dreamed it was a star dropped 
 from the sky, and he awoke still wondering 
 what it might prove. As soon as he was dress¬ 
 ed, he made a rush to the wood-pile, and with 
 a hatchet broke it open, and, poor little fel¬ 
 low, was as disappointed as the boy who broke 
 open his drum to find the sound. He was fond 
 of telling this story, for he traced to this point 
 of his life his first ideas of mechanics. Our 
 young friends will permit us to remark to them 
 that this observation which Joseph Curtis show¬ 
 ed in relation to the marble makes a vast deal 
 of the difference in the intelligence of men. 
 One goes blind and blundering through life, 
 knocking his head against this object and stum¬ 
 bling against that, and dies as ignorant of their 
 nature and uses as do the lower animals. Such 
 
16 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 men as the famous Hugh Miller and Joseph 
 Curtis find every where schools and teachers. 
 They learn a lesson from a marble, and the art 
 of charity in a village school; and they go on 
 learning to the last, and leave the world pre¬ 
 pared to commune with higher intelligences— 
 to join a higher class. 
 
 We have now specified the facts that contrast 
 Joseph Curtis’s childhood with Benedict Ar¬ 
 nold’s, and proceed to a more regular course 
 of narrative. Joseph Curtis was born in New¬ 
 town, Connecticut, September 19th, 1782—a day 
 to be set down in the heart’s calendar, and kept 
 as a fete-day by all who, like the good vicar, 
 love happy human faces, and love more those 
 who make them so. Joseph was the fourth of 
 seventeen children born to his father Reuben, 
 fourteen of whom survived to maturity. Doubt¬ 
 less there were differences and childish dissen¬ 
 sions among these seventeen children, for they 
 were young mortals, and not angels; but one 
 
BOYHOOD. 
 
 17 
 
 of the sisters, still surviving, says, u in our hum¬ 
 ble country home we lived lovingly and qui¬ 
 etly.” 
 
 Eeuben was an honest, industrious, sagacious 
 man, who looked sharply before and around 
 him, as need was with seventeen children to 
 provide for. He was commonly called “Uncle 
 
 c 
 
 Eeuben.” “ Uncle,” gratuitously prefixed, des¬ 
 ignates, in a rural neighborhood, a kind-heart¬ 
 ed man, a man ready to speak a word of cheer, 
 or give a lift to one in need. Hot all his sev¬ 
 enteen children could use up his great store of 
 affection. 
 
 Uncle Eeuben seems not to have been satis¬ 
 fied within the prescribed and narrow bounds 
 of the prevailing sect in Connecticut, so he step¬ 
 ped over into the fields of a people called San- 
 dimanians. We believe their religious creed 
 did not materially differ from their neighbors’, 
 but they in practice held to one article, “ thrift 
 —thrift,” from which our Sandimanian friends 
 varied widely. Uncle Eeuben’s people held it 
 wrong to accumulate property. His seventeen 
 
18 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 children must have made it very easy to him 
 to maintain this article, and perhaps the sin¬ 
 cere adoption of it in his youth may in part ex¬ 
 plain the singular zeal with which Joseph im¬ 
 parted to others all that he had to spare from 
 his necessity throughout his whole life. An¬ 
 other article of the Sandimanian Creed was an 
 implicit submission to the powers that be: so, 
 though u Uncle Reuben’s” heart may have beat¬ 
 en for his country as truly as the best of his 
 patriotic neighbors, he remained quietly at 
 home when, in the Revolutionary struggle, they 
 took up arms against King George. Honest 
 men differ. Uncle Reuben’s inactivity in this 
 great cause proceeded from no pretext—from 
 no want of pluck , for his memory is loved and 
 respected as none but a man’s, good and true, is. 
 The best pluck is to adhere to one’s principles 
 through good and evil report. u Be sure you’re 
 right, then go ahead.” 
 
 Men’s characters are, for the most part, mould¬ 
 ed by the society in which their childhood and 
 youth is passed. In Connecticut, in Joseph 
 
BOYHOOD. 
 
 19 
 
 Curtis’s early days, there were few rich, and 
 fewer poor; theirs was a nearly equal condi¬ 
 tion of reciprocal intercourse and mutual con¬ 
 sideration— “a pure republic,” as their own 
 best poet says, and most happily and truly he 
 describes them. They 
 
 “Would shake hands with a king upon his throne, 
 
 And think it kindness to his majesty: 
 
 A stubborn race, fearing and flattering none.” 
 
 And then, relenting from his delicate satire, he 
 portrays their more attractive features affec¬ 
 tionately, and as truly too: 
 
 “View them near, 
 
 At home, where all their worth and pride is placed, 
 
 And there their hospitable fires burn bright, 
 
 And there the lowliest farm-house hearth is graced 
 With manly hearts, in piety sincere. 
 
 Faithful in love, in honor stern and chaste, 
 
 In friendship warm and true, in danger brave, 
 
 Beloved in life, and sainted in the grave.”* 
 
 It was among these people that Joseph Cur¬ 
 tis grew up, profiting by all the advantages of 
 this fortunate social condition. 
 
 * Halleck. 
 
20 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 That capital autobiography to which we have 
 already referred is written by Hugh Miller, 
 and entitled “My Schools and Schoolmasters.” 
 His “ schools” were the great universal schools 
 of nature, open to all; his “ schoolmasters” 
 the good and intelligent men and women he 
 met with in the daily walks of life. He began 
 a poor man. He had little of what is techni¬ 
 cally termed education. He was by trade a 
 stone-mason, and worked diligently; and yet, 
 by the habits of quick and acute observation 
 and inquiry, by always keeping his eyes and ears 
 open , by beginning with asking, whenever his 
 foot turned up a stone, as Joseph Curtis did of 
 the marble, “ what is it made of?” he became 
 one of the greatest geologists of Europe. Jo¬ 
 seph Curtis studied in the same school that 
 formed this great scholar. Observation and ex¬ 
 perience were his teachers. The “common 
 schools” of his day were but indifferent, and Mr. 
 Curtis regretted all his life the want of that in¬ 
 struction which every pupil in our public 
 schools now has. And, one of the seventeen, 
 
BOYHOOD. 
 
 21 
 
 lie could not long have the advantage of school¬ 
 ing, poor as it was. This multitudinous fam¬ 
 ily must each scramble for himself and all, and 
 at the age of fourteen Joseph entered a print¬ 
 ing-office. This place was offered to him by 
 the editor of the village paper, who had been 
 struck by his intelligence, and impressed by his 
 character. 
 
 A printing-office is a “school” to a boy 
 with open eyes and ears. Our great Franklin 
 (Joseph Curtis may have been incited by his 
 example) began his career by working as a 
 printer’s boy, and ended it by “ sitting down 
 with princes in kings’ houses,” and by being 
 more honored than the best of them. If any 
 of our young readers do not know why, we 
 advise them to read the life of Franklin, which 
 perhaps will entertain them as much and in¬ 
 struct them more than the life of their favorite 
 hero, Bobinson Crusoe. 
 
 Steady confinement to the printer’s office 
 damaged Joseph’s health. He was directed by 
 the family physician to seek an out-of-door em- 
 
22 
 
 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 ployment, and lie engaged as driver of a stage¬ 
 coach from Danbury to Kent. In those days 
 there were few persons of foreign birth in New 
 England. “Every body knew every body.” 
 Life was carried on with extreme simplicity. 
 No employment was menial, certainly none 
 held in contempt; but the employment of 
 driving a coach over the rugged roads of those 
 times, through summer heats and the fearful 
 cold of winter, required almost as much intre¬ 
 pidity as an arctic expedition, with all appli¬ 
 ances and means to boot, now does, and dis¬ 
 cretion and humanity as well as intrepidity. 
 
 We have the relation of a rough-weather ex¬ 
 perience in Joseph’s coach from an old lady, a 
 cotemporary of his, which proves that the driv¬ 
 ing of a coach then was no holiday affair. This 
 old lady was then a young mother, traveling 
 with “ two babes,” as she terms them, under 
 Joseph’s conduct from Danbury to Kent. “ It 
 was night, and very dark and very cold; and 
 in a dreadful part of the road the coach upset.” 
 The poor young mother was in an agony of 
 
BOYHOOD. 
 
 23 
 
 fright for her “babes.” She thinks “she should 
 have died” but for the care of the young coach¬ 
 man. He took off his coat and wrapped the 
 baby in it. There was one old lady-passenger 
 in the coach, not in the least hurt by the over¬ 
 turn, but scared out of her wits and her tem¬ 
 per, and she began, as our relator says, “ storm¬ 
 ing away,” pouring out her wrath on the head 
 of the devoted Joseph. He took it all calmly 
 and gently, and only replied, “I’ll carry you 
 all through safe, ma’am, if it be on my back.” 
 “And so,” says our informer, “he took both 
 my babes in his arms, turning horse for our 
 sakes.” It was two miles to their destined 
 inn. He went cheerily on with his weak and 
 faint-hearted party, singing songs and telling 
 stories by turns, soothing the “babes,” sustain¬ 
 ing the young mother, and coaxing and cheer¬ 
 ing on the grumbling old lady till she was be¬ 
 guiled out of her ill-humor, and they all ar¬ 
 rived in good heart at the inn. 
 
 But there, when the noble lad laid down his 
 burden, he fainted, and they saw the blood 
 
24 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 trickling from a severe cut in liis forehead, 
 which he had not even mentioned. As soon 
 as he was restored to consciousness and his 
 head bound up, faithful to his trust, “he start¬ 
 ed off,” says our narrator, “as though nothing 
 had happened, and back he went two miles 
 after his horses and his broken coach, and 
 brought them safely to the inn.” 
 
 Here were manifested heroic qualities such 
 as have made renowned names; but our friend 
 was destined to a noiseless life—to a place 
 among the “village Hampdens,” the “mute, 
 inglorious Miltons.” 
 
 We are not informed how Joseph’s time was 
 employed from sixteen to eighteen, but we may 
 fairly infer from what went before and came 
 after that it was not misspent or wasted. Such 
 harvests as his can only be reaped in ground 
 well prepared. 
 
/ 
 
 
 CLERKSHIP AND MARRIAGE. 25 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 CLERKSHIP AND MARRIAGE. 
 
 “The country wins me still. 
 
 I never framed a wish or formed a plan 
 That flattered me with hopes of earthly bliss 
 But there I laid the scene.” 
 
 That is one of the most momentous epochs 
 in a young man’s life when he decides on his 
 occupation and his place of residence. The 
 ordinary preference in our country is of city 
 life and mercantile pursuits. 
 
 A boy goes forth from his pleasant country 
 home, from the watch and safe-conduct of 
 his father, goes beyond the sweet sound of 
 “mother,” the companionship of brothers, and 
 sisters, and schoolmates, from the home where 
 every familiar thing is dear to him—the grass- 
 plot, the garden, the old oaken bucket, the hens 
 around the barn door, the old cows he has daily 
 
26 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 driven to pasture, the dog that looks wistfully 
 after him, even the old cat that sits purring on 
 the old gate-post. He gives them all a linger¬ 
 ing, parting look, dashes off his tears, and soon 
 opens his eyes wide upon a new life. He gets 
 a place in a great dry-goods shop, and passes 
 his days there. He goes to a cheap, decent 
 lodging-house for his meals and bed, but there 
 nobody cares for him, no one knows him or 
 his “ folks” at home, or any of the people of his 
 own village that have hitherto made up his 
 world; there is nothing to answer to the wants 
 of his mind and heart, and so his mind and 
 heart are starved out. He goes to church on 
 Sundays because he knows “that will please 
 mother,” but he has no interest there; the min¬ 
 ister is a stranger, the congregation are all 
 strangers to him, and his thoughts wander off 
 to the “old meeting-house,” to the dear famil¬ 
 iar objects there, and to the lads and lasses that 
 met him at its door with their pleasant greet¬ 
 ings. 
 
 He has a right in the Mercantile Library, but 
 
CLERKSHIP AND MARRIAGE. 27 
 
 he has no time to use it. By degrees he gets 
 weaned from the old home. He grows sharp 
 at selling, and contentedly spends his days in 
 puffing up and getting off his master’s goods. 
 He is proud to have talent for trade. He is 
 valued by his employer. He abstains from all 
 improper places of amusement. He compares 
 his prosperous condition with great satisfaction 
 to other country lads, who have been led off by 
 the temptations of the city into bad courses, 
 and have disappeared, some by an untimely 
 death, some, perhaps, are living by hook and by 
 crook, and some, alas! are finishing a term of 
 service at—Sing Sing. But our boy has kept 
 his eye on the main chance, and, after years of 
 selling gloves, and measuring silks and laces, he 
 has got a flourishing business of his own. 
 Trade is carried on by credit in our country, 
 and the enterprise and trading ability of our 
 poor country lad have proved as good as mon¬ 
 ey capital to him. He marries well—as the 
 world goes. Every year adds to his wealth 
 and his mercantile reputation. His name is 
 
28 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 “ good” in Wall Street. His name is among the 
 first in all mercantile enterprises. He buys a 
 grand house, with the modern improvements, 
 in a fashionable quarter. He has his carriage 
 and horses. He has gained his prize. From 
 his proud eminence he looks back upon his 
 country home through the wrong end of the 
 telescope. How shrunken, and small, and con¬ 
 temptible it appears! 
 
 But alas! he has passed the meridian of his 
 life. The days of vigor, of buoyant hope, of 
 happy, hard work, are ended. Look in his face, 
 and you will see wrinkles where dimples were. 
 The plowshare of care has cut furrows on his 
 brow, and his sallow, sunken cheeks show that 
 the baleful shadow of dyspepsia is settled on him. 
 
 And now , at the crowning point of his labors, 
 comes a change—a crisis! The pillars of his 
 house fall; and, wearied and heart-sick, with a 
 family to whom luxuries have become necessa¬ 
 ries, he has to begin a struggle for bread. And 
 now he looks back at his country-home through 
 the right end of the telescope. 
 
CLERKSHIP AND MARRIAGE. 29 
 
 How many at this moment — November, 
 1857—who, a few months, a few weeks since 
 were reckoned among our richest citizens, are, 
 since “the panic ”—the crisis and its reverses— 
 sighing for the security and peace of a modest 
 country home. 
 
 “ Seeing is believing,” and we can not expect 
 the young who have not seen to believe, but 
 surely we may look to the parent—to the wise, 
 conscientious parent—to correct this over-press- 
 
 i 
 
 ure to the city, to temper this haste to be rich. 
 It is his business to train his son to a love of 
 the country, to a right estimate of the superior 
 stability and dignity of agricultural pursuits 
 over the exciting and precarious race of mer¬ 
 cantile life. We glory in the go-ahead spirit 
 of our country, but we beg our young friends 
 to heed the counsel of that renowned old pio¬ 
 neer who said, “Be sure you’re right, then go 
 ahead.” 
 
 There is a contrary migration which seems 
 to us far safer, better, nobler, than that which 
 we have described, the exchange of our over- 
 
30 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 crowded city life to a home in those broad, glo¬ 
 rious reserves in the West, where a lad is re¬ 
 moved from the peril of bad associates, and 
 from the harassment of uncertain employment; 
 where competence is insured to health and in¬ 
 dustry ; where health and industry, indeed, are 
 better than money; and where, in devoting him¬ 
 self to the happiest industry appointed to man, 
 the tilling of the earth, he secures the u glorious 
 privilege” of independence, and the more glo¬ 
 rious privilege of succoring weaker and less- 
 favored wayfarers in life than himself. 
 
 We have digressed to make some suggestions 
 in conformity to the wish we have often heard 
 Mr. Curtis express that our lads would go from 
 their excellent city schools to the West, whither 
 their star points them. Our readers will par¬ 
 don us. 
 
 In 1800, Joseph Curtis, then being eighteen 
 years old, went to New York, and entered as 
 clerk William Underhill’s hardware store in 
 Pearl Street. 
 
 We do not know whether the city was Mr. 
 
CLERKSHIP AND MARRIAGE. 31 
 
 Curtis’s deliberate choice, or whether he was 
 borne there by the current that sets that way. 
 Most of the young men of those country parts 
 of New England that have their business re¬ 
 lations with New York go to that city. They 
 are from their childhood (we are sorry to say 
 it) imbued with the idea that to acquire prop¬ 
 erty is the main business of life, and for this 
 purpose New York is the great mart—the place, 
 above all others, where one can make haste to 
 be rich. Few are the young men who can re¬ 
 sist its varied enterprises and eager competi¬ 
 tions, the aspect of its forest of ship-masts, its 
 commerce to every part of the known world, 
 its gigantic steam-works, its dazzling display of 
 the manufactures and products of all parts of 
 our globe, its superior conveniences and facili¬ 
 ties in the arts of life, its varied amusements 
 and enchanting gayeties. 
 
 None of these things moved our humble 
 young friend. He came from his Spartan 
 home with moderate desires, and with the pur¬ 
 pose of working honestly and faithfully for 
 
 I 
 
32 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 those lie had left behind him. The kind, hon¬ 
 est Danbury lad was not changed by coming 
 to the city. For his first year’s services at 
 William Underhill’s he was to receive one 
 hundred and fifty dollars and his board. Of 
 this small sum he gave his mother sixty dol¬ 
 lars, and with the remainder paid for his clothes 
 and all his incidental expenses. We respect 
 money when we see what it can produce in the 
 hands of one who is both generous and self- 
 denying. Underhill acknowledged the worth 
 of his clerk, and the second year advanced his 
 salary to three hundred dollars. Of course 
 Mr. Curtis enlarged his benefactions, and (very 
 unlike most young men) diminished his per¬ 
 sonal expenses; for, in addition to his allow¬ 
 ance to his mother, he supported two sisters at 
 school. We know a college lad who spends 
 sixty dollars per annum for boots. The boots 
 may be made by the best French artist in 
 boots,’ and our young gentleman’s feet may look 
 as well as Apollo’s would in boots, but at the 
 end of the year the boots are but old, ill-smell- 
 
CLERKSHIP AND MARRIAGE. 
 
 33 
 
 ing leather; and what has been the product of 
 Joseph Curtis’s filial gift of sixty dollars? It 
 has comforted, and recompensed, and cheered 
 his mother, and sent up, like Abel’s sacrifice, a 
 sweet incense to heaven; and it has left with 
 him a precious memory to be pleasant com¬ 
 pany through life. There’s a difference in out¬ 
 lays. 
 
 Joseph Curtis’s faithful service won the en¬ 
 tire confidence and approbation of his employ¬ 
 er. But the lad’s heart was not of the nature 
 of hardware, and it melted in the glance of a 
 pretty, fair-skinned Quaker girl from Hemp¬ 
 stead Harbor, Long Island. She was on a visit 
 to her sister, one of William Underhill’s neigh¬ 
 bors. Fifty years ago in New York neighbor 
 meant at least acquaintance. Her modest garb 
 (a plain setting suits a precious gem) attracted 
 Joseph’s eye, and in her old age the dear old 
 lady confesses that the manly beauty of the 
 young clerk first attracted her, but that no¬ 
 bler part which his goodly features indicated 
 fixed her heart. Her sister said to her, “ Dol- 
 
34 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 ly, if tliee can get that young man thee will get 
 a treasure. 7 ’ Joseph Curtis was as honest in 
 his courtship as in all the subordinate affairs 
 of life. He told Dorothy that he was poor, 
 that his father was poor, and that he was one 
 of fourteen living children, and must share his 
 earnings with them. The fair Quaker was not 
 disheartened by this statement; she knew the 
 worth of the treasure she had won, and they 
 were married in 1803, one month before he 
 came to his majority. Then his clerkship end¬ 
 ed, and he was received into partnership with 
 his employer. 
 
 “How many times,” says one of his eldest 
 nieces, “ when only eight years old, have I lis¬ 
 tened to my parents’ comments on the trust and 
 respect shown to my Uncle Joseph by Billy 
 Underhill, and, when much older, I have look¬ 
 ed with admiration on bright cutlery and other 
 hardware articles he gave my uncle when he 
 was married as a testimonial of his esteem and 
 honor.” These articles, kept bright by the 
 neat-handed Quaker wife, adorned the house 
 
CLERKSHIP AND MARRIAGE. 35 
 
 which was furnished by Stephen Hopkins, her 
 father. “We had little,” she says in her pleas¬ 
 ant retrospections of that period of her life, “but 
 we never wanted.” If to want means to de¬ 
 sire, we doubt if many of our richest house¬ 
 holders can make this boast of our friend; and 
 if to have no desire beyond our possession is 
 riches, then who is richest, the lady who weeps 
 because her husband will not buy her a fifth 
 camel’s-hair shawl, or our frugal Quaker house¬ 
 wife, content with her bright cutlery ? 
 
 The younger partner seems to have had but 
 a small portion of the profits of the concern. 
 For the first six months he received but four 
 hundred dollars; but with such appliances as 
 taking a lodger and frugal housewifery, he con¬ 
 tinued his benefactions, and lived without in¬ 
 curring debts, “wanting nothing” 
 
36 
 
 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HOME LIFE. 
 
 “ In the house of the righteous is much treasure.” 
 
 In 1804 Joseph Curtis removed to 92 Maid¬ 
 en Lane. There his family occupied a part of 
 the house, and there he began the hardware 
 business on his own account. There was no 
 romance in his humble pursuits and domestic 
 life. It was a serene course of love and duty. 
 He continued to live and thrive there for fif¬ 
 teen years. There occurred the greatest epoch 
 in a parent’s life—the birth of a first son. Old 
 Jacob, in blessing his twelve sons, said to Reu¬ 
 ben, “ Thou art my first-born, my might, and 
 the beginning of my strength, the excellency 
 of dignity and the excellency of power.” There 
 is something of this exultant spirit in every pa¬ 
 rent ; and if, like Mr. Curtis, he is a man of 
 thoughtful and religious turn, he recognizes in 
 
37 
 
 HOME LIFE. 
 
 liis first-born the first possession endowed with 
 immortality. The boy was bright and prom¬ 
 ising, and seemed to authorize the illimitable 
 hopes he inspired; but when only three years 
 old he was transferred to a higher school by a 
 short but severe process. By a sad accident he 
 was severely scalded. His father suffered no 
 hand but his to dress his wounds, and no doubt 
 the skill of that tender hand availed to lessen 
 the child’s sufferings. He made no complaint, 
 but to all his inquiries replied, “Better, dear 
 father.” And when he saw the boy’s eyes 
 closing on this world, he said, “Are you going 
 
 f 
 
 to sleep ?” “ Yes,” he murmured; and fell into 
 that sleep which Glod giveth his beloved. 
 
 Surviving children grow up—grow into the 
 cares and usages of life. They form new rela¬ 
 tions. The current of their lives runs down¬ 
 ward. That which is taken away in the fresh, 
 endearing loveliness of childhood remains un¬ 
 changed in the parent’s imagination. The mag¬ 
 ical sound of the little footsteps is still in his 
 home; the musical tones of the young voice 
 
38 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 still ring there. There he remains, always the 
 playful, loving child, an ever-present beauty 
 and blessing. So was Mr. Curtis’s little boy, 
 and to the end of his life he fondly recurred to 
 him. 
 
 At the very hour of his boy’s departure his 
 eldest daughter was born, but so deep was he 
 in sorrow at the moment that long after he con¬ 
 fessed to her that he was not conscious of one 
 throb of joy, and dreamed as little of the light 
 that event was to shed on his life as a traveler 
 in the depths of a cavern knows of the glad¬ 
 ness of the rising sun. 
 
 Mr. Curtis had six children born during his 
 residence at 92 Maiden Lane, and twice the an¬ 
 gel of death visited and consecrated the same ' 
 apartment made glad by the beginning of their 
 lives. 
 
 We have few records of the fifteen years of 
 his Maiden Lane life. They flowed on obscure 
 in man’s eyes, but sending up a memorial, like 
 Cornelius’s, of alms and good deeds. His 
 daughter remembers that he had the custom of 
 
HOME LIFE. 
 
 89 
 
 assembling in tlie evening young men, proba¬ 
 bly apprentices and clerks, for study and mu¬ 
 tual instruction. “If I have a vocation, it is 
 teaching,” he often said; and faithfully, from 
 the beginning to the end of life, did he recog¬ 
 nize this vocation. 
 
 There was a beautiful union and mutual con¬ 
 fidence between Mr. Curtis and his sisters. 
 They seem to have recognized the relation as 
 one of the nearest and dearest, and to have 
 cherished it with a holy regard to its immortal 
 nature. 
 
 “I well remember,” says one of them, who 
 was at the time a very young observer, “ his 
 beautiful example of reverence to his parents: 
 how he received his father on his visits to New 
 York; with what child-like docility he listened 
 to his father’s views and opinions; how he hon¬ 
 ored his every feeling, and strove to make ev¬ 
 ery hour pleasant to him. 
 
 “ And when sorrow came to his own home, 
 and his business was deranged by foreign wars, 
 and heart and hand were full, he attended to 
 
40 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 every call of distress from Danbury (the resi¬ 
 dence of his numerous relatives), and sent com¬ 
 fort and assistance to my home. In the midst 
 of his business perplexities his father was struck 
 down with apoplexy; he came among us on 
 the wings of love, made arrangements for his 
 mother, and continued to comfort his suffering 
 relatives with words and acts of love. And 
 how tender and delicate was his way of succor¬ 
 ing us! After he had parted from us, a load 
 of wood or coal would appear at the door, or a 
 bank-note be found in a book on the table, or a 
 comfort or supply of some necessity. He had 
 an eye to see every suffering, and a heart to 
 supply every want, and this in the midst of his 
 domestic cares and duties.” 
 
 We have quoted the words of Joseph Cur¬ 
 tis’s relative as honorable to her as to him, for 
 that gratitude must have been up to fervent 
 heat which continues to flow after the cooling 
 lapse of more than fifty years and the harden¬ 
 ing tendencies of prosperity. 
 
 His mother became wholly his charge, and 
 
HOME LIFE. 
 
 41 
 
 lived thirteen and a half years in his house, al¬ 
 ways occupying its best room, and attended by 
 his children with filial reverence. “Nothing 
 was too good for her,” says one of them: “it 
 seemed to us her queenly right.” Seven of his 
 sisters he took, one after another, into his fam¬ 
 ily, and treated them as his children. Several 
 of them were married from his house. He as¬ 
 sisted his brothers in their business, assuming 
 the relation of parent to them. He was their 
 endorser. One of his sisters, a widow, he aided 
 to the utmost limit of his ability; and his 
 nephews and nieces have the blessed memory 
 of many a benefaction from this earthly provi¬ 
 dence of their family—of aid in their education, 
 aid in their business, aid wherever and when¬ 
 ever they needed and he could give. His ben- 
 efactions were not limited to the fifteen years 
 in Maiden Lane, but diffused through his whole 
 life. “ And yet,” says one. of his family, a faith¬ 
 ful observer of his life, and not an exaggerator 
 of his good deeds, “ our dear father did no more 
 than was his duty toward his kindred (a noble 
 
42 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 view of family duty this!). He never alluded 
 to any act of his for his family as unusual, or 
 calling for self-approval.” And Joseph Curtis 
 was never a wealthy man, but a man of small 
 gains—a man of wise counsel and great heart. 
 
 Among Joseph Curtis’s domestic benefac¬ 
 tions, screened from the world’s observation in 
 the privacy of his home, was one, not pictu¬ 
 resque, not in any way to be idealized, but in 
 its gracious Christian beauty unsurpassed by 
 those brilliant examples of friendship, Castor 
 and Pollux, and the two Quintilians. He had 
 a brother, Judson, who suffered from epileptic 
 attacks, and was rendered imbecile by them. 
 He had some dim rays of intelligence and fee¬ 
 ble pulsations of affection that made him con¬ 
 scious of well-being and perceptive of kindness. 
 This brother Mr. Curtis kept for twenty-six 
 years in his own home, assuming the whole 
 burden of his maintenance, and the whole re¬ 
 sponsibility of his comfortable sensations; for 
 of any nearer approach to happiness than mere 
 sensation he was not capable. The poor man 
 
HOME LIFE. 
 
 43 
 
 was as dependent as a little child upon personal 
 care. This care his brother never delegated to 
 another, and never would suffer him to be de- 
 -pendent on a menial for any service whatever, 
 so long as he himself was able to perform it. 
 His dress was scrupulously attended to, and his 
 person cared for as a tender mother cares for 
 her child. The poor inyalid was liable to sul¬ 
 kiness—to fits of passion. His gentle brother 
 and his eldest daughter, and they alone, could 
 manage and subdue him. After giving some 
 painful particulars of the labor that this xare 
 imposed upon her father, Miss Curtis says, u As 
 Judson grew older he lost the use of his limbs, 
 and for two years prior to his death was con¬ 
 fined to a chair on wheels; all this time I never 
 heard my father complain, only look sad, and 
 sigh. Many a time has dear father turned 
 aside, taken a restorative, dropped a tear, and 
 gone to his work untiringly. Eight months 
 before his death we (his children) rebelled. 
 Father was too feeble to lift him, and he resign¬ 
 ed him to the kind care of his sister, whose 
 
44 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 hand had long been ready to receive him. 
 Daily father saw him, always shaved him, and 
 frequently assisted the nurse in changing him. 
 He left us on the first of June, and died the 
 following December. His last words were 
 4 Brother Joseph .’ Father answered, 4 My dear, 
 your mother waits for you.’ Is there not 
 a most touching scriptural simplicity in this 
 . parting ? The word 4 brother ’ comprises the 
 whole capacity of a human being for loving 
 and blessing, and the answer tenderly recog¬ 
 nizes the mother waiting to receive the spirit 
 of her child released from the obstruction and 
 burden of its mortal investment. 
 
 44 He was buried,” continues Miss Curtis, 
 44 from our house, just three months before 
 father. I can not forget father looking upon 
 him in his coffin. 4 He was a harmless man,’ 
 he said: 4 he has filled his mission, and now, 
 daughter, my work is finished;’ and so it 
 proved. My father would not have died so 
 quietly had he left Judson behind him.” 
 
 It was the only task he grudged to delegate 
 
HOME LIFE. 
 
 45 
 
 to another, the only one he seemed to feel as¬ 
 sured he could perform better than another. 
 
 This keeping to himself this loving duty was 
 the only approach to selfishness (selfishness!) 
 we have heard of in his long life. One of Mr. 
 Curtis’s sisters, a lady possessed of ample for¬ 
 tune, affectionately insisted on assuming the 
 charge of this unfortunate brother; but Joseph 
 
 had done the duty till it had become his hap- 
 * 
 
 piness, and he could not part with it. When¬ 
 ever his children or friends would urge him to 
 resign it, he would reply, 11 1 am sure my moth¬ 
 er looks down with approbation on my con¬ 
 duct.” This was the single instance of an ap¬ 
 proach to self-commendation. 
 
 To estimate this work of love, it must be re¬ 
 membered that it was carried on, without once 
 faltering, through a series of twenty-six years 
 —laborious years, years of unintermitting ac¬ 
 tivity, years whose leisure moments were con¬ 
 secrated to beneficence—that he never let go 
 his fraternal grasp till the burden dropped from 
 his weakened arms in his seventy-fifth year! 
 
46 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 In writing of Iris family life, Miss Curtis says, 
 “I recollect my father always cheerful and 
 happy, and never letting an opportunity where¬ 
 by we could be improved pass. His habit was 
 to gather us around him and propound ques¬ 
 tions ; for instance, ‘ Which of you can tell me 
 how glass is made?’ ‘Where does iron come 
 from ?’ then followed reading, and at the next 
 early evening we were catechised.” Again she 
 says, “ My father’s family government was per¬ 
 fect. He never struck me, but he has given 
 me sleepless nights by his grieved but com¬ 
 manding eye of displeasure. I recollect de¬ 
 ceiving him when I was about seven years old. 
 He spoke decidedly, ‘ Go up stairs.’ In a short 
 time he, with mother, came to me. They sat 
 still, and looked very sorry. I saw a little 
 switch in his hand. I perfectly remember my 
 conclusion, ‘If you strike me, I will do it again.’ 
 Father read my defiant look. He laid the stick 
 aside. I see the whole scene now. He sighed, 
 and tenderly called me to him. He waited a 
 few moments, and then pictured his very naugh- 
 
HOME LIFE. 
 
 47 
 
 ty daughter. ‘He would not whip me,’ he 
 said; ‘ I must go to bed; if I were hungry, I 
 could eat, but not with him or mother.’ Shall 
 I ever forget that night ? He would not hear 
 my concessions, would not kiss me, but long be¬ 
 fore he was up in the morning I was let into 
 his room and— forgiven. 
 
 11 My sisters, between whom there were two 
 years, when about nine and eleven were petu¬ 
 lant to each other. Reproof failed to correct 
 the habit. At last there was an outbreak. The 
 four children, as usual, were summoned to his 
 presence.” (It is notable that Mr. Curtis uni¬ 
 formly treated the subjects of his government, 
 whether his own children, his apprentices, or 
 the juvenile delinquents of the Refuge, as peers. 
 He made them virtually the judges of his laws, 
 and the tribunal to which he demonstrated the 
 justice of their execution in detail.) “After a 
 silent meditation, my father said, ‘ Children, 
 you must part; to-night you sleep together for 
 the last time. I shall send you to separate 
 boarding-schools, and when you again live to- 
 
48 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 getlier perhaps you will have learned to love 
 one another; until you have learned that les¬ 
 son, do not expect to return to this home.’ 
 There was weeping. "We all did our part. I 
 was sixteen years old. I knew father was in 
 earnest, and I saw no escape from the sentence. 
 He kissed me and my brother ” (not the offend¬ 
 ers). “ He then bade the girls to go to bed. 
 There was but one thing before them—to obey. 
 As I always put them to bed, I, as usual, start¬ 
 ed to go with them. ‘Go,’ said my father, ‘but 
 do not speak to them.’ Poor girls, how they 
 cried! I saw them in bed, and kissed them. 
 
 E-said, ‘ Ask father to come;’ he did not, 
 
 but walked the hall. After a while they slept, 
 locked in each other’s arms. Before daylight 
 
 E-was at his door. ‘ Father, may we come 
 
 in?’ ‘Yes,’ spoken as always, kindly. ‘Well, 
 children ?’ ‘ Father, won’t you kiss us ?’ ‘ Yes, 
 after you have kissed each other.’ They then 
 said, ‘ Oh, father, do not send us away.’ Their 
 punishment was commuted. They were not 
 sent away; but, though permitted to remain at 
 
HOME LIFE. 
 
 49 
 
 home, they were not permitted to speak or 
 play together till they could do both with un¬ 
 interrupted love. 
 
 u This state of things,” says their sister, u did 
 not long exist. To this hour the lesson has 
 not been forgotten. They never since have 
 spoken unkindly to each other. They have 
 differed, but without anger.” 
 
 Joseph Curtis, as one might expect from his 
 general orderliness, was as stanch a lover of 
 punctuality as that good man who held it in 
 his scale of virtues next to godliness. When 
 one of his daughters was about fifteen, she fell 
 into the besetting sin of young ladies, of pre¬ 
 cious few of whom it can be said, “ Up rose the 
 sun, and up rose Emily.” 
 
 The delinquent was reproved by her father, 
 but went on transgressing. One morning, with¬ 
 out preface or comment, he said, “ My daugh¬ 
 ter, go to bed to-night at half past eight:” this 
 was in the month of June. The penalty was 
 not effective. The young lady was behind 
 time the next morning, and received no other 
 
 D 
 
50 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 reproof than “Gro to bed, my daughter, this 
 evening at half after seven.” And so the bright 
 June afternoons, so joyous to a happy girl, were 
 curtailed till the embryo fine lady was reformed 
 altogether, and took her seat beside her father 
 at his exact time. 
 
 These may seem small particulars, but they 
 will serve to show how the preserving habits 
 and virtues of home life were formed and taught 
 by this wise and patient parent. 
 
 One of Mr. Curtis’s relatives writes with a 
 touching earnestness of the annual family as¬ 
 semblages at this favorite uncle’s (this “dear 
 uncle Joseph’s” house) for twenty-one consec¬ 
 utive years. “ How serene and joyful was his 
 face as he took his seat in the large arm-chair, 
 and called around him the young people (his 
 own children, and the sons and daughters of 
 his thirteen brothers and sisters) who had shared 
 the bountiful feast he had provided for them! 
 How gentle and loving he was to all! I be¬ 
 lieve there are few wranglers for high honors 
 at our universities and colleges that feel greater 
 
HOME LIFE. 
 
 / 
 
 51 
 
 satisfaction in success than did our little ones. 
 Each produced the gift-book given by ‘ Uncle 
 Joseph’ at the preceding New Year holiday. 
 Those who had read and well-used their books 
 joyfully answered his call. If an admonition 
 were needed, how kind it was! how impressive 
 his reproof! how many of his lessons have 
 made impressions never to be effaced! It 
 seems to me that he omitted no opportunity.” 
 We have inserted at length this testimony of 
 an eye-witness: it is better than an elaborate 
 encomium. It proves that Joseph Curtis, in 
 his philanthropic career, did not overlook the 
 duty nearest to him. His beneficence radiated 
 from the central point, home. He had a strong 
 feeling for the claims of blood, and so Chris- 
 tianly modest was he in his benefactions to his 
 family that some of them are ignorant to this 
 day that the help came from “ Uncle Joseph.” 
 
 It may be asked how, with his moderate 
 means, he was able to do all this. How, with 
 a growing family to support, sustained, in com¬ 
 fort and respectability, frugally, but never stint- 
 
52 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 ed, lie was able so liberally to impart to others. 
 We answer that be was diligent in business; 
 that be did tborougbly whatever be undertook 
 to do; that be bad a judicious econony; that be 
 was strictly temperate, and abstemious in per¬ 
 sonal expenses; and, finally, that through all bis 
 life be held to one tenet of bis good old father 
 —the Sandimanian’s Creed—and never suffer¬ 
 ed property to accumulate. His practical faith 
 was, 
 
 “Savings are but thrown away. 
 
 Hoarded manna, 
 
 Moths and worms shall on it prey.” 
 
 He left nothing at the risk of financial “pan¬ 
 ics . 11 All was safely invested according to the 
 good old rule, “that which is given is saved.” 
 His example is open to all who neither aim at 
 riches or fear poverty; and let it be remember¬ 
 ed that riches and poverty are, for the most 
 part, mere fancy terms. 
 
 “For he that needs five thousand pounds to live, 
 
 Is full as poor as he that needs but five.” 
 
 Mr. Curtis was a very capable man of busi¬ 
 ness, and he went on successfully till the war 
 
HOME LIFE. 
 
 53 
 
 of 1812 and the famous Milan decrees of Napo¬ 
 leon, which so embarrassed the business world 
 and ruined thousands, extended their baleful in¬ 
 fluence to his humble industry; and though he 
 manfully sustained himself till 1817, he then 
 failed, and surrendered every thing—his house¬ 
 hold furniture even—to his creditors. They 
 bore a well-deserved testimony to his integrity 
 and worth by refusing to accept it. 
 
 “My impressions of those troubled days,” 
 writes Miss Curtis, “ are most vivid. I was ten 
 years old, the eldest of four, when he assigned 
 his every dollar. It proved insufficient to sat¬ 
 isfy one of his creditors. In those days we had 
 a debtor’s jail, and given city limits. To the 
 latter he was consigned. I never shall forget 
 the hour he left us. I never had seen him 
 weep before. He kissed us, and when the door 
 closed upon us, child as I was, my heart knew 
 its first sorrow; but once since have I known 
 the same utterly abandoned loneliness.” 
 
 The allusion is to the last saddest hour in 
 family life, when the parent is borne away to 
 his final rest. 
 
54 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 v ■ 4 • 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TPIE MANUMISSION SOCIETY. 
 
 A city is a great field for philanthropic la¬ 
 bor. When Joseph Curtis began his career in 
 New York, the city did not contain 100,000 in¬ 
 habitants, and it was comparatively in a healthy 
 moral state. Philanthropy was not then the 
 necessity, nor, we may say, the fashion that it 
 now is. The country was then young, and 
 generous spirits found channels for action in 
 moulding its fresh political institutions. 
 
 Dr. Bellows, in his funeral sermon for Mr. 
 Curtis, to which we are largely indebted for 
 the material of our little volume, says, “We 
 must remember that fifty years ago the igno¬ 
 rant, the weak, and abandoned, the slave, the 
 prisoner, the deaf and dumb, the blind, had not 
 drawn to themselves the attention even of the 
 Christian; and when we arc estimating the 
 
THE MANUMISSION SOCIETY. 55 
 
 claims on our gratitude of the founders of our 
 public schools, the projectors of asylums and 
 houses of refuge, the starters of emancipation, 
 we are not to forget that the lamp of their char¬ 
 ity sprung up in utter darkness, and was trim¬ 
 med without the notice of men, and fed by none 
 of the sympathy and admiration of society at 
 large.” 
 
 It is rather startling to remember that as 
 lately as 1811 it was necessary to institute a 
 “ Manumission Society” in our now free State 
 of New York, and this fact may make us a little 
 more compassionate to our brothers of the 
 South, whose escutcheon still bears the blot of 
 this dreadful institution. And not only was 
 slavery then, in some measured and diminishing 
 form, tolerated in our state, but hard men here, 
 as they do elsewhere, took advantage of it, and 
 “ a large number of slaves in the state, and es¬ 
 pecially in the city, entitled to their freedom by 
 existing laws, were t still held in slavery by 
 crafty masters.” 
 
 The “ Manumission Society” was established 
 
56 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 to right the wrongs of those thus dishonestly 
 held in bondage, and, farther, to provide for 
 the utter extinction of slavery in the state. 
 Joseph Curtis became a member of this society 
 in 1811. It is very common for men to join 
 philanthropic enterprises from a sudden im¬ 
 pulse or flare-up of feeling, and idle men and 
 women, having nothing else to do, follow this 
 fashion of the day, and some, it is possible, 
 from the mere vain love of seeing their names 
 in the newspapers in good company. But we 
 may be sure Joseph Curtis was of none of these. 
 “ Deeds, not words,” was the motto of his life. 
 He was every where a diligent head and heart 
 worker. He joined the Manumission Society 
 in 1811, and was associated in the standing 
 committee with men still held in grateful re¬ 
 membrance as public benefactors—Peter A. 
 Jay, Cadwallader Colden, Isaac M. Ely, and oth¬ 
 ers. “ There were some hundreds of cases of 
 trial occurring every year between slaves claim¬ 
 ing and masters denying their right to freedom, 
 and nearly every one of these was looked after 
 
THE MANUMISSION SOCIETY. 57 
 
 and the slaves’ rights vindicated by Joseph 
 Curtis.” For eight years he worked in this 
 holy cause. This was not the work of an idle 
 man who is trying to fill up vacant hours, or 
 even conscientiously employing leisure time, 
 but it might be strictly called 11 over-work”— 
 work over and above that done every day to 
 supply the necessities of his family—work only 
 to be remunerated when to every man shall be 
 rendered according to his work. 
 
 But, though not paid in any sordid sense, his 
 labors were gratefully recognized. After spend¬ 
 ing three winters in Albany as an outside at¬ 
 tendant on the sittings of the Legislature there, 
 his labors and those of his coadjutors were suc¬ 
 cessful, and in the session of 1817 an act of uni¬ 
 versal emancipation was passed. To signalize 
 his great part in that honorable occasion, and 
 when such gifts were not prostituted, as they 
 now are, to noisy politicians and accidental suc¬ 
 cesses, a pair of silver pitchers was presented 
 to him. Each of them bears a vignette repre¬ 
 senting Mr. Curtis as the slave’s champion, hold- 
 
58 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 ing in one hand a mirror, which reflects the 
 
 light upon two slaves whose manacles the God- 
 • % 
 dess of Liberty is loosing, while with the other 
 
 he points to a black school-child pondering over 
 his school-book. The design was in the earli¬ 
 est infancy of art in our New World, and cer¬ 
 tainly is not artistical, but its meaning is “ plain 
 and precious.” The inscription is simply, 
 
 Manumission Society of New York 
 to 
 
 Joseph Curtis. 
 
 Act 31. March, 1817. 
 
 There was a completeness in all Joseph Cur¬ 
 tis’s labors. He did not drop his interest in 
 the cause of the colored people when he obtain¬ 
 ed the manumission act. He took part in the 
 institution of schools for their children, frequent¬ 
 ly visited them, and, in particular, one at Flat- 
 bush. This he attended every Sunday. “He 
 left home,” says Miss Curtis, “at half past four 
 in the morning, walked to Flatbush, a distance 
 of six miles, taught all day, and returned at 
 evening.” 
 
THE MANUMISSION SOCIETY. 59 
 
 -gp. V "* 
 
 Mr. Curtis regarded his final success in this 
 mission of mercy as one of the happiest events 
 of his life, and he sometimes referred to the 
 17th of February, 1817, when he froze his face 
 in mounting the bleak hill to the Capitol at 
 Albany as one of the proudest days of his life. 
 “ I feel I have not lived quite in vain,” he said, 
 “ when I consider the passage of the Manumis¬ 
 sion Act.” He had a moral alembic of his own, 
 by which his own happiness was evolved from 
 that he procured for others. Not many days 
 before his death, but while he was yet in his 
 usual health, a friend, in talking with him, re¬ 
 ferred to his part in the passage of the Manu¬ 
 mission Act. “The memory of it,” he said, 
 “ will smooth my very dying pillow.” “ Truly 
 it is what we ha’ dune for others, and not what 
 we ha’ dune for oursel’, that we think on maist 
 pleasantly in that hour.” 
 
 In considering this portion of his beneficent 
 labors, Dr. Bellows, in his funeral sermon, said, 
 “ Mr. Curtis was so strenuous a believer in the 
 sacredness of law, that his anti-slavery sympa- 
 
60 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 thies never went along with the Abolitionists; 
 but in all that could be done under, or with 
 the consent of law, no man exceeded him in 
 anti-slavery feeling and zeal.” 
 
THE HOUSE OF -REFUGE. 
 
 61 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 “I was sick, and in prison, and ye visited me.” 
 
 A HAN of Joseph Curtis’s capabilities could 
 not long remain out of business. In 1820 be 
 became chief superintendent and financier for 
 James P. Allaire, who was at that time embar¬ 
 rassed for want of means to prosecute his great 
 enterprise. Mr. Curtis had no money to offer 
 his friend; but integrity, character, in a business 
 community, is virtually money. By these, Mr. 
 Curtis had such influence with the directors of 
 the Franklin Bank that he obtained aid from 
 that institution for Mr. Allaire, and he began 
 his brilliant career of prosperity, which went 
 on, while his friend, before long, obedient to 
 his high calling, turned aside to succor the 
 wretched and instruct the ignorant. 
 
62 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 “ Man may not stay; there is no rest 
 On earth for the good man’s foot. 
 
 He should go forth on errands bless’d, 
 
 And toil for unearthly fruit.” 
 
 It has already been said that Mr. Curtis re¬ 
 garded teaching, in some of the varied forms 
 of the schoolmaster, as his vocation—his mis¬ 
 sion. Children were the special objects of his 
 solicitude. In them he recognized a hope for 
 the future of his country. 
 
 The condition of the children in our city who 
 are born of vicious, or ignorant and negligent 
 parents, and of such as are left to the casualties 
 of orphanage, was an anxious concern to him. 
 He felt the injustice of society in leaving these 
 wretched, helpless little creatures without train¬ 
 ing or notice of any sort, and then, for inevita¬ 
 ble vices or petty crimes, condemning them to 
 prison, and to the corrupting society of such as 
 were hardened by long experience of crime. 
 He had a gift to discern God’s image, obscured 
 as it might be by rags and dirt, and all the mis¬ 
 erable habits of vagrancy. When, in his walks 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 68 
 
 about the wharves and in the ship-yards, he 
 met a gang of rowdy boys with ragged clothes 
 and unwashed faces, he paused to observe them 
 at “marbles,” “pitch-pennies,” or some rough¬ 
 er game. He soon became interested in the 
 gleams of intelligence that appeared in one 
 boy’s superior skill over another. Disputes 
 would arise; oaths and blows follow; then 
 came the moment for Mr. Curtis to interpose; 
 and when he saw the most audacious boy mol¬ 
 lified by his gentle voice and calm reproof, and 
 saw eyes brimming with tears upturned to him 
 (for he who, when a boy himself, had mastered 
 wild horses, could, with like gentleness, subdue 
 these little outlaws), and watched the latent 
 spark of love at the bottom of their hearts re¬ 
 kindling by the breath of his love, and the 
 smiles coming, and the lingering look after 
 him as he turned from them, he said, “ These 
 boys might be saved.” And when he met 
 poor little brawlers in the street, or young 
 things, bare-headed and bare-footed, dodging 
 into areas with the empty alms-baskets, and 
 
64 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 mouths full of lies, put into their lips instead 
 of morning prayers, he would say, still seeing 
 in their young faces traces of the hand that 
 made them, “They ought to be saved.” 
 
 And finally, when he saw children—mere 
 children—in the police courts condemned to 
 prison for petty pilfering, and to contact with 
 men steeped in crimes, horrible schoolmasters 
 in iniquity, his heart cried out, “ They must be 
 saved.” 
 
 And so arose the “ House of Refuge for Ju¬ 
 venile Delinquents,” and under Joseph Curtis’s 
 fatherly discipline we have the best testimony 
 that many were saved. 
 
 After revolving the project of this institu¬ 
 tion for a year in his busy head and busier 
 heart, he first communicated it to John Pin- 
 tard, Jr. We know nothing of Mr. Pintard, 
 but we could envy the man selected by Mr. 
 Curtis to whom first to confide this novel plan 
 of beneficence, sure to be carped at by the 
 “doubtful and unbelieving.” Happily, there 
 was at the time an association of patriotic and 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 65 
 
 enlightened men bound together for the sup¬ 
 pression of crime and pauperism. These gen¬ 
 tlemen, fifteen in number, met during the win¬ 
 ter of 1815-16 at Mr. Curtis’s, and there thor¬ 
 oughly and patiently investigated the sources 
 of crime and poverty in our city, and finally, 
 as the best result of their labors, carried out 
 Mr. Curtis’s project, and established the House 
 of Refuge. u This was the very beginning of 
 an effort to substitute kindness, care, and good 
 influence for punishment in the discipline of ju¬ 
 venile offenders—the commencement of a sys¬ 
 tem of preventive measures in the treatment of 
 the exposed and criminal classes.”* Mr. Cur¬ 
 tis’s thorough acquaintance with the subject, his 
 zeal and love, pointed him out as the best per¬ 
 son to fill the office of superintendent. He was 
 accordingly appointed, and he accepted it. The 
 imperfect working, or failure of most kindred 
 enterprises, is owing to the want of some essen¬ 
 tial qualification in their principal officers. We 
 do not expect a painter, a sculptor, or a poet to 
 
 * Dr. Bellows’s Sermon. 
 
 E 
 
66 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 succeed unless lie has a talent for his art, or 
 that strong bias for it which ends in talent; 
 and yet men are appointed to the most delicate 
 and difficult of all arts, the developing and 
 training, and even the curing of a human soul, 
 who can not 11 sound its lowest note,” or govern 
 “ one of its ventages.” Mr. Curtis had a divine 
 commission in his own nature for his great 
 work. As Michael Angelo is said to have dis¬ 
 cerned in the rough block of marble the figure 
 he was to shape out of it, so this heaven-in¬ 
 structed artist saw in the rude, defaced human 
 subject the elements that could be worked to 
 excellence and beauty; and he went bravely 
 to his great task. How he labored in his studio , 
 and how he succeeded, will be satisfactorily 
 shown by two letters which have been gener¬ 
 ously placed at our disposal. 
 
 It will appear by these letters, as well as in 
 a document written by Mr. Curtis himself, that, 
 as in his subsequent government of his appren¬ 
 tices, order was the first law of this institution; 
 that unswerving justice was maintained, and 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 67 
 
 that the same spirit of love that regulated the 
 apprentices redeemed the young convicts. 
 There was much more to be done for the juve¬ 
 nile offenders than for the apprentices. The 
 work was more complicated. They had not 
 only to be taught—they were to be unlearned; 
 but, coming for the first time in their lives 
 under the law of love, they were more suscep¬ 
 tible, and more generous in their responses to 
 it. Love was Mr. Curtis’s key-note, and the ef¬ 
 fect he produced with it would remind one (who 
 has ever seen the experiment) of the regular 
 and beautiful forms into which grains of sand, 
 in a chaotic state, are transposed by a single 
 note of music. 
 
 Our first testimonial is a letter addressed to 
 Miss Curtis from a man who had no education 
 before he went to the u House of Refuge,” and 
 who has since had no opportunity of supplying 
 this want, having spent his early life, after he 
 left the u Refuge,” in trading voyages to for¬ 
 eign parts, but who now, placed in an employ¬ 
 ment of trust by one of our first, most loved, 
 
68 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 and most honored citizens, has given and is 
 giving to his seven children the education of 
 which he knows the worth by the want of it. 
 In reply to an inquiry from the writer of this 
 memoir as to the disposition of his letter, he 
 thus nobly volunteers his willingness to pub¬ 
 lish it. “I am not only willing,” he says, “but 
 glad to have my letter used. My children 
 know, and thank God that it was Mr. Curtis 
 who made me the man I am.” 
 
 The letter is addressed to Miss Curtis. We 
 have not presumed to alter it except by the 
 omission of parts irrelevant to our subject, and 
 by amending the spelling. It has seemed to 
 us a sacred tribute to the memory of the writer’s 
 friend, as well as an important testimony to the 
 soundness of Mr. Curtis’s system of reformato¬ 
 ry treatment. 
 
 “You ask me,” says the writer, “to recol¬ 
 lect, if I can, of some of his (Mr. Curtis’s) young 
 days, or what he said about them. I remember 
 of his telling me how hard he had to labor to 
 get schooling, to encourage me to improve the 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 69 
 
 opportunity I had. My first sight of Mr. Cur¬ 
 tis was in 1825. I was in prison, and under 
 the law for crime. I was an orphan, well ac¬ 
 quainted with all the crimes that man, woman, 
 or boy can commit. I hated all that was good 
 in man or woman till I saw Mr. Curtis, and for 
 some months I hated him, till his kind love 
 won my love. His first conversation with me 
 was all kindness, to show me I would not be 
 punished for the crimes I had committed, but 
 for any I should commit while under his charge; 
 that if I told the truth, and did as well as I 
 knew how, he would make a man of me. At 
 first I could not believe. I had heard too 
 many persons promise the same; but he was 
 the only man who, under all circumstances, 
 never forgot his promise to any boy or girl, to 
 my knowledge, and I had good chance to know. 
 His first point to gain was to convince each 
 boy and girl that he did not wish to punish 
 them, but to gain them by love; for when he 
 had to punish, he would talk long and kindly 
 to the boy or girl, till the tears would flow from 
 
70 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 his own eyes, and then from the person that 
 was to be punished, till those that were looking 
 on felt more sorrow for his feelings than for 
 the boy. He would say, 1 My son, it is hard, I 
 feel it hard, but the body must suffer to make 
 the mind obey.’ His plan was for the boys to 
 try each other by jury, and he was the judge. 
 Each boy made his complaint, and called wit¬ 
 nesses, and then it went to the jury, and if 
 found guilty, the number of stripes was named 
 by the foreman, and Mr. Curtis put it on, not 
 in anger, but in mildness, telling them all the 
 time how it grieved him. The boy, after pun¬ 
 ishment, had no hard thoughts of him, but felt 
 truly sorry and ashamed to offend him. The 
 first capital offense (as the phrase was with the 
 boys) which I committed was an attempt to run 
 away by getting over the wall. Another boy 
 and myself hid under Mr. Miller’s dwelling- 
 house at dusk, and when the roll was called we 
 were missed. We were soon found, and oh! the 
 sensation, the dread of meeting that kind face 
 with so kind a smile was worst of all. ‘My 
 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 71 
 
 son, have you got tired of doing well? I am 
 very sorry you could not believe me that this 
 was a good home, and the best you could have 
 at present. Now I must punish you, and it 
 hurts me more than it does you.’ 
 
 “ One case that happened to myself bears very 
 strong upon my mind even to this day. After 
 trying to escape, and being caught, how power¬ 
 ful was the punishment of his taking me to 
 walk with him alone, and putting his arm 
 around my neck, and his hand in my bosom, 
 and speaking such kind words that it ought to 
 win any one. A case to show us his reliance 
 on a good Grod was in 1826 or ’27. There was 
 a rumor of the world coming to an end; and 
 on one particular night there was to be a ring 
 around the moon, and, sure enough, there was, 
 and many began to fear. About eight o’clock 
 that summer evening, he said, ‘My sons, you 
 see that ring, as they have foretold. It denotes 
 nothing to fear for those that do as well as they 
 know how.’ He talked kind and long till our 
 fears departed. 
 
72 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 u Another plan he had to punish the wicked 
 and encourage the good was to give cake and 
 coffee at eleven A.M. on Sunday morning. 
 
 u Any boy that went the full week without a 
 complaint received his cake and coffee, and the 
 others had to go without it till they could do 
 better. 
 
 11 Another (regulation), which was a great in¬ 
 ducement to principle and honor, was to permit 
 any boy that finished his work by Saturday 
 afternoon, or by twelve A.M., to go and swim, 
 and spend the afternoon at liberty; and oh, 
 how sweet was liberty to them that had been 
 inclosed for months by walls! And then the 
 strong temptation to leave when finding com¬ 
 panions that would lead us off if they could; 
 but it never happened, I believe, in any one 
 case. And, also, any boy that behaved well 
 was permitted to go to the city to see his friends, 
 and those friends would often endeavor to per¬ 
 suade them to leave and break their word, but 
 they would return to meet that kind smile that 
 we all loved to meet. 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 73 
 
 “ If a boy ran away, and came back himself, 
 he was forgiven, and placed with the best boys, 
 and the gates would be opened for him any 
 time when he had done his work. 
 
 “ In going up stairs, it would often happen 
 that some boy would stamp and drawl his feet 
 after him very bad; then Mr. Curtis would call 
 all down again, and send them up again, and 
 continue the same process till all went up very 
 light and easy. 
 
 “For exercise, he would form the boys in 
 line, and then run, the boys doing their best to 
 come up to him—very few could do it—then 
 to the house for breakfast. 
 
 “When at table there was no talking. If 
 you wanted the waiter you held up your hand, 
 your thumb for vinegar, for bread three fingers, 
 for salt one finger, and so on. 
 
 “ On Sunday, after meeting, it was the cus¬ 
 tom to appoint monitors for the day in differ¬ 
 ent parts to see that order was kept. 
 
 “After tea, in the long winter evenings, it 
 was his custom to sit with us and have some 
 
74 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 narrative read, Riley’s or Paddock’s a part of 
 the time; and then he would inform us who 
 were the inventors of the most useful articles 
 we were acquainted with, and end by singing 
 and telling stories.”* 
 
 The writer concludes by complaining of the 
 difficulty of writing his recollections, and says, 
 “If it is your wish, I will come on, if God 
 spares me, and answer any questions, and do 
 all I can, with great pleasure, to have an op¬ 
 portunity of doing any thing for his honor or 
 yours.” 
 
 * In relation to this memorable period of her father’s 
 life, Miss Curtis says, “His Refuge days were engrossing, 
 for, save his sleeping hours, few were passed with his fami¬ 
 ly. My brother and I were permitted to join him at the 
 Refuge table after their supper, and listen to father’s pleas¬ 
 ant conversations, always eliciting replies from some one. 
 Indeed, the year I passed there is fraught with pleasant 
 memories. I never knew how wicked the children had been , 
 and did not know that they were worse than myself. ” How 
 full of pity must have been his heart who could thus guard 
 these little outcasts with a parent’s tenderness, and how 
 wise to cultivate their self-respect by the respect of others ! 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 75 
 
 It is not uncommon for the Pharisees of this 
 world, in their self-complacent security, to look 
 down with indifference, or contempt, or total 
 disbelief of any likelihood of reform upon such 
 subjects as the writer of the above letter was 
 when, as he frankly states, “lie was well ac¬ 
 quainted with all the crimes that man, woman, 
 or boy can commit.” These Pharisees and Le- 
 vites would pass him by, comfortably conclud¬ 
 ing that his moral diseases were incurable. 
 Joseph Curtis had a better faith. The boy 
 was sick and in prison, and in the name of his 
 Master he visited him, and in the miraculous 
 power of that name he laid his hand upon him, 
 and he was made whole. His*susceptibility to 
 kindness, his generous affections, and his in¬ 
 ward truth were brought out, and, in his own 
 honest words, he was made the “man he is,” 
 honored with places of high trust, and more 
 honored with the confidence and fatherly affec¬ 
 tion of Joseph Curtis’s life-time. 
 
 We remember chancing at Mr. Curtis’s house 
 
76 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 on one occasion, when we observed that bis se¬ 
 rene face was lighted with an expression of un¬ 
 usual joy, and asked the cause of it. “ S- 
 
 arrived this morning,” he said, “and came 
 straight from the ship to my house; he is a 
 good fellow—a dear fellow.” 
 
 The second document to which we have al¬ 
 luded is the subjoined letter. It was written 
 by one who had opportunities for the closest 
 observation of Mr. Curtis’s superintendency of 
 the House of Refuge. 
 
 It needs no comment. Its eloquent truths 
 will, we feel sure, reach many hearts. It is ad¬ 
 dressed to Miss Curtis. Their father’s friend¬ 
 ships are the richest inheritance of his chil¬ 
 dren. 
 
 “New York, Nov. 13, 1857. 
 
 “Friend Anna,—Y ou informed me a few 
 days since that Miss Sedgwick was about to 
 prepare for the press a brief memoir of your 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 77 
 
 recently deceased and ever-to-be-lamented fa¬ 
 ther, and that you and she were both desir¬ 
 ous of obtaining such little incidents of his ca¬ 
 reer as might serve to illustrate his pure and 
 beautiful nature — such, more especially, as 
 marked his life during his superintendency of 
 the House of Refuge. 
 
 “I would that this troublesome period did 
 not engross so entirely each hour of every bus¬ 
 iness man’s time; then, perhaps, I could more 
 efficiently aid you in carrying out your wishes. 
 As it is, r I will endeavor, however imperfectly, 
 to say a few words which perhaps your friend 
 may not deem unworthy of embodiment in her 
 sketch of your blessed father’s life. 
 
 “ He was the first, if I have been correctly 
 informed, to conceive, or, at least, the first to 
 impress upon the public mind the idea of a ne¬ 
 cessity for the separation of the confirmed from 
 the juvenile offender against the laws of society. 
 Out of this thought, and his earnest advocacy, 
 grew the ‘ Society for the Reformation of Ju¬ 
 venile Delinquents,’ he being its first superin- 
 
78 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 tendent. The house was opened on the first 
 of January, 1825, on the site of the old Powder 
 House, now Madison Square, with very limit¬ 
 ed accommodations, the apartments previously 
 used by government officers being allotted to 
 your father’s family as a residence, and the bar¬ 
 racks, apportioned to soldiers during the war 
 of 1812 and 1815, set off for the reception of 
 such children as were deemed proper recipients 
 of this well - designed and beautiful public 
 charity. 
 
 “ Well, Anna, your father was not only your 
 father, and the father of his own immediate off¬ 
 spring, but the parent and friend of every little 
 vagrant, every neglected orphan, every youth¬ 
 ful violator of law committed to his care. 
 
 “His gentleness and interest in their happi¬ 
 ness he immediately made manifest to their 
 dark and benighted understandings. His mode 
 of addressing them, so affectionate and touch¬ 
 ing— ‘My children;’ his words of kindness 
 and softness, so new to their ears, never failed 
 to secure their immediate confidence; his con- 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 79 
 
 vincing, appealing, and sympathetic voice, his 
 mild and beautiful eyes, as he looked into those 
 whom he interrogated, never failed to touch 
 their hitherto impracticable hearts; and while 
 their tears flowed, the whole story of their hard 
 young lives was poured forth in the best elo¬ 
 quence, because the eloquence of truth and na¬ 
 ture. 
 
 “It was your father’s custom (Grod bless 
 him!) each evening to assemble the children 
 committed to his care, and to seat them on both 
 sides of a long table, he being at the head, and 
 to invite them to ask him questions upon such 
 subjects as might occur to their minds—the va¬ 
 rious processes of manufacture—the method of 
 producing certain results from certain opera¬ 
 tions. I remember that once a boy, aged about 
 twelve years, inquired , 1 What attracts the mag¬ 
 net to the north pole?’ I see your father’s 
 face now , as, after a pause, he replied, ‘ The fu¬ 
 ture life of a boy asking that question is mark¬ 
 ed and determined.’ And it was so. He be¬ 
 came a ship-master of high repute, acquired 
 
80 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 wealth, and unfortunately lost his life on a voy¬ 
 age from a Southern port to New Wales some 
 ten years since. 
 
 “ Your father, during the hours set aside for 
 recreation, would participate in the sports and 
 amusements of ‘ his children .’ I have seen him 
 play at the game of base-hall with them. I 
 have seen him assist them in the making and 
 Hying of their kites, shooting at marbles, ‘ long 
 taw’ and ‘ short taw,’ spinning tops, and at all 
 other sports loved so well by the young, and 
 so necessary to the young; but when the hour 
 of recreation was passed, the past familiarity 
 was at once forgotten; and while each boy loved 
 him, each boy feared, and reverenced, and obey¬ 
 ed him. 
 
 “ His government was mild and gentle, but 
 most positive; he ivould have unqualified obe¬ 
 dience ; and, though corporal punishment was 
 most distasteful to him, he failed not to inflict 
 it when necessary for the preservation of disci¬ 
 pline. I remember one illustrative case that 
 may not be uninteresting. 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 81 
 
 “ Two boys, known as hard cases, were sent 
 to the Refuge from the Sessions. Soon after 
 their commitment, one of them attempted to 
 escape, was detected, and punished. His com¬ 
 panion reproached him for submission, and, 
 with an oath, threatened resistance to the death 
 under kindred circumstances. Mr. Curtis hap¬ 
 pened to overhear the young rebel, and his 
 course was at once taken. It may not be im¬ 
 proper to premise that the instrument of chas¬ 
 tisement used by him, though incapable of 
 bruising, was capable, when applied to sensitive 
 cuticles, of producing a stinging and smarting 
 sensation exceedingly painful. Your father 
 said to the boy when brought before him, 
 
 1 W-, you have attempted to overthrow my 
 
 authority by inciting your fellow inmates to 
 insubordination, and have imposed upon me 
 the painful necessity of punishing you. Re¬ 
 move your jacket.’ ‘I won’t.’ This refusal 
 w r as immediately followed by a smart applica¬ 
 tion of the whip to one cheek, with a repetition 
 of the order to remove his jacket. ‘I won’t, 
 
 F 
 
82 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 by ....!’ The whip fell with added force 
 upon the opposite cheek. The contest lasted for 
 several minutes, the boy preserving his dogged 
 obstinacy, and your father his quiet determina¬ 
 tion to subdue him. At length the jacket was 
 taken off, and petulantly thrown upon the 
 floor. 
 
 “ ‘ Take up your garment, and hang it or¬ 
 derly over the back of that chair.’ This com¬ 
 mand was also obeyed, but with a reluctance 
 that was not submissiveness. 
 
 “ ‘Now remove your shirt.’ Here the boy 
 burst in tears; but he stripped himself of his 
 under-garment, and stood nude, humiliated, and 
 subdued. The poor young wretch, I suppose, 
 expected to be flayed alive; but no such pur¬ 
 pose rested in the gentle heart of his conquer¬ 
 or; his object was accomplished, and he only 
 said, ‘ W-, you have compelled me to pun¬ 
 
 ish you against my will; you have compelled 
 me to enforce an obedience which should have 
 been willingly yielded; now resume your gar¬ 
 ments, take your seat in your class, and avoid 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 83 
 
 again subjecting me to the pain you have this 
 day occasioned me.’ The boy did so; his con¬ 
 duct from that day forth was irreproachable, 
 and he is now one of the wealthiest oil-mer¬ 
 chants in—well, in one of our Eastern whaling 
 ports. 
 
 “ Mr. Curtis had a strange and almost mirac¬ 
 ulously quick insight into human character. 
 He seemed to know, by immediate instinct, the 
 precise kind of treatment each subject commit¬ 
 ted to his care demanded, whether a course of 
 reserve and distance, or of familiarity and con¬ 
 fidence; and thus he always knew where to 
 award praise and censure, reward and punish¬ 
 ment, appropriate to each individual character. 
 
 11 1 remember one case of punishment, inflict¬ 
 ed by him, that I presume was felt more acute¬ 
 ly than any other ever imposed by him during 
 his continuance at the Refuge. One of the 
 boys committed to his care was an especial fa¬ 
 vorite; he was thought to possess a larger 
 share of intelligence, a better natural intellect, 
 than most of the other inmates of the house. 
 
84 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 He was active as a squirrel, fleet as a deer, and 
 your father loved him—for the best of all rea¬ 
 sons—because he loved your father. On a cer¬ 
 tain occasion, during the absence of Mr. Curtis, 
 the young rogue, in the overflowing exuber¬ 
 ance of his full blood, found his way to the 
 summit of the wall surrounding the premises, 
 and fearlessly leaped to the ground on the out¬ 
 side. He afterward impudently sought the 
 gate leading to the inclosure, and demanded 
 admission, grounding his right upon the plea 
 of 1 tenantry,’ and deeming that he had perpe¬ 
 trated an act of exceeding cleverness. Your 
 father, of course, heard of it upon his return, 
 and, summoning the delinquent to his presence, 
 addressed him thus: 4 You never committed an 
 act so unwise since I first knew you. You 
 have shown every boy inside of these walls 
 how he may escape; you have subjected the 
 managers of this society to the expense of ren¬ 
 dering escape more difficult by adding to the 
 height of that inclosure. I am displeased with 
 you. You have offended me.’ He turned his 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 85 
 
 back, and did not for two days thereafter no¬ 
 tice the boy. The offender could not endure 
 this any longer; he went to him whom he 
 loved, and said, ‘ Mr. Curtis, dear , good Mr. Cur¬ 
 tis, forgive me. I can not eat, I can not sleep 
 "until I have your forgiveness. I did not know 
 the wrong I was committing; I did not think 
 at all.’ Pardon thus humbly asked was freely 
 accorded, and that same boy, Anna, now ar¬ 
 rived at middle age, and having acquired opu¬ 
 lence and position, I saw among the saddest of 
 the mourners who followed the remains of that 
 purely good man, your father, to his last rest¬ 
 ing-place. 
 
 “That active philanthropist, John Pintard, 
 in 1825 presented to the Refuge library a copy 
 of 1 Sturm’s Reflections on the Works of God.’ 
 The work consists, if you remember, of a series 
 of three hundred and sixty-five brief essays on 
 various subjects, one being appropriated to each 
 separate day of the year. It was Mr. Curtis’s 
 wont to read one, each on its designated day, 
 to the children over whom he presided. How 
 
86 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 well I remember—shall I say how gratefully I 
 remember ?—the beautiful and Christian pa¬ 
 tience he exhibited in making plain, by diagram 
 and illustration, to the ignorant and uneducated 
 minds surrounding him, the wonders of Grod’s 
 creation as exhibited in that most wonderful 
 book. 
 
 “ The Sabbath-day, during your father’s gov¬ 
 ernment of the Refuge, was made emphatically 
 a day of rest—a festival day. The food pro¬ 
 vided for the children was a little varied from 
 their every-day diet. The boys and girls were 
 permitted to walk about the premises in sepa¬ 
 rate groups until called in to the general recep¬ 
 tion-room to listen to, and be improved by, 
 some simple lecture, beautifully and happily 
 adapted to their uninformed minds. Many 
 gentlemen residing in the neighborhood took 
 a strong interest in the institution, and heartily 
 co-operated with Mr. Curtis in promoting the 
 happiness and improvement (especially on the 
 Sabbath-day) of his interesting charge. Among 
 these may be named prominently that free- 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 sr 
 
 handed and large-hearted philanthropist, Peter 
 Cooper, then, perhaps, in the incipient expecta¬ 
 tion of the extended prosperity which has since 
 so deservedly crowned his efforts. 
 
 “I venture to assert that if the surviving 
 portion of the Kefuge boys and Refuge girls of 
 1825 and 1826 could be convened at this day, 
 they would present an assemblage of as respect¬ 
 able men, and of as virtuous wives and moth¬ 
 ers as could be selected from a corresponding 
 number taken from any class of society living 
 at the same period, and that all of them would 
 impute their redemption from a life of misery 
 and wretchedness to the influence of Joseph 
 Curtis. 
 
 “ ‘By their fruits ye shall know them. 7 - 
 
 “Mr. Curtis was a gentleman in the fullest 
 and most comprehensive sense of the word. 
 If he committed an error, he was ever willing 
 to acknowledge it. If he misjudged any one 
 with whom he was associated, the apology was - 
 ever prompt and immediate. If he undesign- 
 edly wounded, he was always ready to apply 
 
88 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 the healing balm. Shall I relate a little inci¬ 
 dent shadowing out this beautiful trait in his 
 beautiful character ? 
 
 “ He had a few boys at the Refuge, selected 
 as worthy his especial confidence, to guard and 
 watch others of a more refractory nature, and 
 to prevent any escape on their parts from the 
 premises. Once, upon the occasion of evening 
 roll-call, an inmate failed to answer to his name, 
 and was deemed to have eluded the vigilance 
 of his guards. It was determined that he could 
 have escaped from only one outlet, and the boy 
 having supervision of it was charged with neg¬ 
 ligence, and threatened with a loss of your fa¬ 
 ther’s confidence. I well remember his tearful 
 
 remonstrance: ‘ Mr. Curtis, J-S-is not 
 
 off these premises: he is concealed somewhere; 
 he has not escaped me. I know I have been 
 faithful to the trust you have reposed in me: 
 let us search.’ The search was kept up with¬ 
 out avail until midnight, yet the watch-boy 
 would not yield his opinion, and prayed per¬ 
 mission to go into the fields and watch. He 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 89 
 
 was humored, and after waiting an hour with 
 lynx eyes and impatient spirit, he detected the 
 runaway descending a scaffold-pole on the outer 
 side of the wall. To pounce upon him as a 
 hound pounces upon a hare was but the work 
 of a moment, and he was triumphantly recon¬ 
 ducted into the inclosure whence he had es¬ 
 caped. 
 
 “ After your father had disposed of the dere¬ 
 lict one, he took the hand of the boy whom he 
 had misjudged, and said, ‘I have been unjust 
 to you: I am sorry for it. Kiss me, my son; 
 good-night. Go to bed and sleep; it is late.’ 
 But that boy was too happy and too exultant 
 to sleep that night. He had enjoyed your fa¬ 
 ther’s approving smile, his, word of commenda¬ 
 tion ; and these were more precious to the chil¬ 
 dren he governed than any other reward, how¬ 
 ever substantial in character. 
 
 u I happened in your father’s office in Spring 
 Street one day in April, 1827. A boy who 
 had formerly been under his care, and who was 
 going West, came to say farewell. The lad 
 
90 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 doubted the stability of his own resolutions of 
 reformation, and, with overflowing eyes, said, 
 1 Oh! Mr. Curtis, I do not remember ever to 
 have listened to a father’s admonitions, but I 
 feel that, could I be with you or under your 
 immediate supervision, I should never, never 
 again go astray.’ He was taken gently by the 
 hand and thus addressed: ‘My son, consider 
 me as your father, and let every act of your fu¬ 
 ture life be preceded by the self-imposed ques¬ 
 tion, “ Would my father approve this?” ’ The 
 boy went on his way, and is now at the head 
 of one of the largest publishing houses in the 
 State of Ohio. 
 
 “Your father was especially distinguished 
 for his great love of order and system, and for 
 the most scrupulous cleanliness. He loved the 
 free air of Grod’s free atmosphere, and he loved 
 that all should inhale it in its unmixed purity. 
 His method of ventilation has, I believe, been 
 adopted in most of our public institutions. His 
 theories on this most important subject were 
 first brought into practical operation in the 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 91 
 
 construction of the new House of Refuge, and 
 were found eminently beneficial. The best il¬ 
 lustration of this is perhaps exhibited in the 
 fact that during his government of eighteen 
 months at the Refuge, with a family of chil¬ 
 dren averaging nearly one hundred daily, not 
 one single death occurred. The location selected 
 for the buildings was not a healthful one. It 
 was surrounded by swampy grounds and stag¬ 
 nant ponds, and was redolent of miasmatic in¬ 
 fluences. Intermittent and remittent fevers 
 were the prevalent diseases, and in the summer 
 season many children were prostrated. Giood 
 ventilation and strict cleanliness were doubt¬ 
 less excellent auxiliaries to their recovery, but 
 these were not all. They had, besides, anxious 
 and affectionate nursing. Many a time at mid¬ 
 night have I seen that good Samaritan, your 
 father, with noiseless tread move from couch 
 to couch, bathing a heated forehead here, cool¬ 
 ing a hot cheek there, moistening the parched 
 lips and fevered tongue of another, and all with 
 a gentleness unsurpassed by woman’s gentle- 
 
 
92 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 ness. Oil, Anna! I know liis children hold 
 his memory in sacred reverence; they can not 
 do so overmuch. 
 
 “ The Rev. Dr. Bellows, upon the occasion 
 of his discourse at your father’s funeral, justly 
 remarked that he was known to thousands of 
 children. He might have gone farther. It 
 would be hardly extravagant to say that he 
 was known to most of the children in this wide¬ 
 ly extended metropolis. I have frequently 
 walked with him in localities where the poor 
 most do congregate. I have seen their sports 
 suspended, and have heard them smilingly 
 whisper one to the other, ‘ That is Mr. Curtis; 
 do you know him? I do. 1 They would all 
 seem to crave from him some little sign or to¬ 
 ken of recognition; and when his hand was 
 laid on the head of one, and the cheek of anoth¬ 
 er affectionately patted, the chin of a third gen¬ 
 tly chucked , the hair of another softly stroked 
 down, and the loving and encouraging word 
 spoken to all, then were the seeds of his own 
 generous nature broadcast, and, like bread 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 93 
 
 thrown upon the waters, will be found after 
 many days. 
 
 “He was ever full of the spirit of Christ 
 when he said, ‘Suffer little children to come 
 unto me;’ and, ‘Love one another.’ In con¬ 
 clusion, I may quote from a less sacred author¬ 
 ity, ‘ He was a man: take him for all in all, we 
 shall not look upon his like again.’ ” 
 
 It may surprise those who have forgotten 
 that Columbus was cast down from the emi¬ 
 nence he had attained and taken home a pris¬ 
 oner, or those who have never observed how 
 the prejudiced, the ignorant, inexperienced, and 
 conceited obstruct with medieval notions, or 
 their own crude ideas fostered by their petty 
 vanities, the most enlightend projects, to hear 
 that Mr. Curtis was opposed by petty distrusts 
 and meddling. Hr. Bellows, in the funeral ser¬ 
 mon from which we have already quoted, thus 
 states the circumstance that led to Mr. Curtis’s 
 resignation of the office of superintendent. 
 
 « 
 
94 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 u On one occasion a boy ran away, and, after 
 a few days, fall of penitence for bis ingratitude, 
 returned, confessed bis fault, and entreated for¬ 
 giveness. Satisfied of bis sincerity, Mr. Curtis 
 forgave bim. Tbe directors, doubting tbis pol¬ 
 icy of mercy, disapproved bis conduct, and in¬ 
 structed bim, by unanimous vote, to give tbis 
 runaway a certain number of lasbes. Mr. Cur¬ 
 tis begged tbem to reconsider tbeir order. He 
 bad from bis heart forgiven tbe boy, wbo bad 
 returned to duty, and bad only seen good from 
 bis course; be could not inflict wbat must now 
 be a pure vengeance upon bis back. Tbe di¬ 
 rectors, however, reasserted tbeir directions to 
 lash bim. Again be remonstrated,, and again 
 they reaffirmed tbeir order, with instructions 
 to tbe committee not to leave tbe premises un¬ 
 til they bad seen tbe blows inflicted. Mr. Cur¬ 
 tis, seeing no alternative, then came forward 
 with tbe keys of tbe institution, and said, ‘ Gen¬ 
 tlemen, I am not a slave-driver, and I can not 
 whip a boy whom from my heart I have for¬ 
 given. I resign tbe keys of tbe Kefuge.’ Tbe 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 95 
 
 directors, moved by his firmness, and respect¬ 
 ing his convictions, did not accept his resigna¬ 
 tion, and remitted the lashes. But he found 
 himself so hampered by a policy that put little 
 faith in human nature, and doubted the power 
 of love, that he did not long retain his position.” 
 He could not, with his steadfastness in truth 
 and justice.* 
 
 Matters were harmonized for the time, but it 
 was quite evident there could not be joint ac¬ 
 tion between minds so diametrically opposed 
 
 * It is satisfactory to find an accordance of opinion on 
 the subject of corporal punishment between the best govern¬ 
 ors of youth our age has produced. Dr. Arnold’s biogra¬ 
 pher says of him, “ He made flogging only his ‘ratio ulti¬ 
 ma;’ ” and, “Talking he tried to the uttermost.” Dr. Ar¬ 
 nold himself says, “ I believe boys may be governed a great 
 deal by gentle methods and kindness, and appealing to their 
 better feelings, if you show that you are not afraid of them. 
 I have seen great boys, six feet high, shed tears when I have 
 sent for them up into my room, and spoken to them quietly 
 in private for not knowing their lessons; and I have found 
 this treatment producing its effects afterward in making 
 them better. But, of course, deeds must second words when 
 needful, or words will soon be laughed at.” 
 
 
96 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 as Mr. Curtis’s and the gentlemen (or some of 
 them) directors. 
 
 We have before us a document written by 
 Mr. Curtis himself, and jDresented to the Board 
 of Directors at his final resignation of his office. 
 It is a valuable exponent of his views, which 
 it gives with directness, and with his u only art, 
 the simple truth.” The pragmatical ignorance 
 and gross injustice he had to contend with are, 
 without any sign of irritation or resentment, 
 made manifest. Throughout the controversy, 
 his dignity was maintained without the sacri¬ 
 fice of modesty or meekness. 
 
 The contest has passed away and is forgot¬ 
 ten ; the actors in it have passed away too, and 
 now, as we believe, see eye to eye; but still 
 the document is interesting, as it exhibits the 
 combined firmness and gentleness that made 
 Joseph Curtis a model character, and it is also 
 of permanent importance, as it elicits and reiter¬ 
 ates the principles and rules by which he suc¬ 
 cessfully trained and absolutely reformed the 
 most difficult of young subjects. 
 
THE HOUSE OF KEFUGE. 
 
 97 
 
 It is not necessary to insert tire whole doc¬ 
 ument, as it is in some measure anticipated in 
 the most satisfactory manner by the details in 
 the letters we have given. In them it has been 
 seen that the superintendent had few laws, that 
 they were so simply expressed that a child of 
 ten years could perfectly comprehend them, 
 and that to these laws he required implicit, un¬ 
 swerving obedience. But it is not by laws 
 that the corrupted can be reformed, the igno¬ 
 rant instructed, the degraded raised. u Our in¬ 
 stitution,” said Mr. Curtis, a can not be man¬ 
 aged like a manufactory: it is not to decide 
 how the sick shall be provided for; it is not to 
 say whether the subjects shall work at such or 
 such kinds of work, and how they shall be fed 
 and clothed; but it is to decide how shall the 
 poor, misguided, and neglected youth be taught 
 to wash his face, comb his hair, tie his shoe, sit 
 erect, keep out of the dirt, learn his book, bri¬ 
 dle his tongue, and do as he is told. These 
 are little things, it is true, but, small as they are, 
 they require a w r ork that no man, in my opin- 
 
 G 
 
98 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 ion, can give a theory for; nor, till he has an 
 opportunity (by actual observation) to see the 
 fruit produced by a particular course, either ap¬ 
 prove or condemn. It will be found from ex¬ 
 perience that what is expedient to-day may be 
 inexpedient to-morrow. Many things may be 
 done that to a casual observer may seem inad¬ 
 missible, but still, rightly managed, are product¬ 
 ive of good. To decide on all these is the work 
 of the superintendent.” 
 
 Mr. Curtis professes not to have had his faith 
 increased in the ball and chain and whip sys¬ 
 tem by his observation. They “ might effect 
 external obedience, but wrought no change of 
 thought or habit.” His first care was to make 
 the child feel that he had come to a home, not 
 to a prison; that it depended on himself wheth¬ 
 er he should stay there till he was twenty-one, 
 or whether, so soon as there was a good prospect 
 that he would make a useful and respectable 
 citizen, he should be sent to a good place. 
 “With one exception,” he says, “they did not 
 at first believe me.” They were accustomed to 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 99 
 
 threats rarely executed, and to promises seldom 
 fulfilled; and thus they believed Mr. Curtis’s 
 promises, like the rest, were merely bribes to 
 good behavior.* He imputed the degradation 
 of the children to the neglect, mismanagement, 
 and bad examples of their parents, “more es¬ 
 pecially the mothers.” If they could be thus 
 degraded by mismanagement, he argued they 
 could be raised by right training. “His first 
 object,” he says, “was to get their confidence 
 by reposing confidence in their professions, and 
 putting them upon their honor, thereby instill¬ 
 ing into their hearts sensations to which they 
 were strangers. Kind treatment alone can pro¬ 
 duce these sensations.” 
 
 “Itis now more than a year,” continues Mr. 
 Curtis, “ since we have been under the neces¬ 
 sity of keeping a day-guard as well as a night- 
 
 * Our readers will recall the declaration in one of the 
 letters of the Refuge writers : “Mr. Curtis was the only 
 man who, under all circumstances, never forgot his promise 
 to any boy or girl, to my knowledge, and I had a good 
 
 chance to know.” 
 
100 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 watcli. The advantage of this in saving ex¬ 
 pense to the institution, as well as in the many 
 moral impressions made on our boys, can be es¬ 
 timated by all who have witnessed the progress 
 of our labors, and who know the difficulties in¬ 
 volved in all new and untried undertakings. 
 
 “ I feel an assurance in saying that, so far 
 as my experience has gone, and so far as my 
 judgment is capable of suggesting, this liberty , 
 this confidence , this respect which we give to 
 the honor of the subjects, is the key to open 
 to the benighted mind a light which shows 
 the path to manhood and respectability. It is 
 not enough that I can give my guard the keys 
 of the gate, trust him on the walls to guard 
 others, or send him out of an errand; no, he 
 has a pride—and who shall say it is not laud¬ 
 able? in knowing, and showing to his mates 
 and relatives that he can be trusted to go to 
 town alone, and say to his mother in language 
 more expressive than words, ‘ I am a good boy, 
 and shall become a respectable man, and at 
 some future day I am in hopes to repay you 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 101 
 
 for the distress you have experienced in see¬ 
 ing your son arraigned as a criminal and sen¬ 
 tenced to the penitentiary.’ 
 
 “It is now about fourteen months since I 
 have been in the habit of giving this indulgence 
 to nine of my boys, to visit once a month their 
 friends for about three hours; in doing this 
 there has been but one instance of overstaying 
 the time allotted, and in that case no disrespect 
 to the orders was intended. About three 
 months since I learned from the acting com¬ 
 mittee that they expected the rules and regu¬ 
 lations would be respected by me. These for¬ 
 bade any boy leaving the premises without per¬ 
 mission from the acting committee. From that 
 time to this I have had no small difficulty in 
 keeping their minds at ease until a further de¬ 
 cision could be had by a reference to the Board.” 
 
 Mr. Curtis felt that this trust in the boys was 
 the mainspring of his work, and he reiterates 
 his argument, “ I can not too forcibly call their 
 attention” (that of the Board) u to the consid¬ 
 eration of this subject, for on that much de- 
 
102 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 pends. I know the minds of the boys on this 
 point, and it is not different from what our own 
 would be in their situation; this warrants me 
 in saying that, so long as they are impressed 
 with the idea that this institution is a prison, 
 and that they are to be confined until they are 
 of age (if they learn a trade here), you will be 
 disappointed in the finishing of your labors. 
 
 “ I do not believe that the mind of a human 
 being can be brought to that quiet and pro¬ 
 gressive state of respect for himself and others 
 while the body is suffering punishment; of this 
 I have had abundant proof in the many cases 
 of imprisonment—the ball and chain, and cor¬ 
 poral punishment which I have been under 
 the necessity of inflicting. Punishment can not 
 create that state of feeling which elevates the 
 mind, and brings into operation that spirit 
 which Grod has given to man alone. ‘Where 
 the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.’ 
 
 “ And the only method to bring about this 
 happy state of feeling is to inculcate the idea 
 that kind and affectionate feeling will always 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 108 
 
 follow good behavior; that, if they should re¬ 
 main here till of age, it is more from their own 
 choice than otherwise; and that this privilege 
 of visiting their friends at stated periods for a 
 few minutes, and other privileges, will be ex¬ 
 tended to them so soon as the superintendent 
 can be satisfied from their improved conduct 
 that they are worthy of confidence, and that 
 these favors will not be abused.” 
 
 It is not necessary, and therefore would now 
 be an ungracious task, to dwell on the partic- 
 
 V , 
 
 ulars of the superintendent’s controversy with 
 the committee. They were, for the most part, 
 men of routine (a term unfortunately well un¬ 
 derstood at the present time), men of dogmas, 
 of theories, of cast-iron systems; they might, 
 as Mr. Curtis hinted, organize a manufactory, 
 or arrange a work-house; they might, perhaps, 
 comprehend the bones and muscles of the hu¬ 
 man frame, but they could never understand 
 its susceptible nerves and delicate fibres; they 
 might beat a drum or blow a trumpet, but 
 they could not restore to musical harmonies the 
 
104 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 finest and most complicated instrument formed 
 by the Creator’s hand. This work was for such 
 a man as Joseph Curtis, with judgment ripened 
 by acute observation and experience, learned 
 in the dispositions of children, and learning 
 every day, himself ductile, full of sympathy, 
 and overflowing with love, and gifted by Heav- 
 en with that authority which gave to all his 
 other qualities force and effect; and, with all 
 this fitness, looking, as he modestly asserts, for 
 the aids of divine grace. 
 
 But with all these qualifications there was 
 but one alternative for the superintendent. 
 He must submit to personal injustice from the 
 committee, he must be impeded and frustrated 
 at every step by their “rules and regulations,” 
 he must sacrifice his parental care to their 
 stern, old-fashioned, inflexible, mischievous dis¬ 
 cipline, or—he must resign. “ After reviewing 
 and comparing my own feelings,” he says, 
 “ with the views and feelings of the acting 
 committee, I have necessarily come to the de¬ 
 termination that I can not, in justice to you or 
 
THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 
 
 105 
 
 to myself, consent to be any longer considered 
 as superintendent of this institution.” Accord¬ 
 ingly, on tlie 5th of May, 1826, his connection 
 as superintendent with the institution was dis¬ 
 solved ; but his interest in it never ceased. He 
 harbored no petty resentments; he was not the 
 less interested in his young subjects because 
 their progress could no longer reflect glory on 
 himself. 
 
 He maintained to the end of his life the habit 
 of visiting the institution and talking with the 
 children, and the last Sunday afternoon of his 
 life, thirty years after his official duties were 
 ended, he spent there. All who knew him in¬ 
 timately must have observed his frequent recur¬ 
 rence to “ the Refuge,” as he always termed it, 
 and the tender tone of voice and moistening of 
 his eye when he spoke of it. It was as the 
 mother speaks of her little dependents in the 
 nursery. One of his last requests to his family 
 was that his portrait might be hung at the 
 “ Refuge,” not certainly to preserve the memo¬ 
 rial of his services, but probably from a hope 
 
106 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 that it might link the hearts of these young 
 people to him whose heart had been so bound 
 to them. 
 
 We can not close this instructive chapter of 
 Joseph Curtis’s life without expressing our ear¬ 
 nest hope that it may impress the importance 
 of selecting the right individuals to administer 
 public charities. For want of this, they either 
 utterly fail or do but half the good they might. 
 No endowment, no laws, no organization can 
 be an equivalent for this requisite. 
 
SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. 107 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. 
 
 “All worldly joy to him was less 
 Than the one joy of doing kindness.” 
 
 After leaving the House of Refuge in 1826, 
 Mr. Curtis had to enter upon a new business. 
 He had no money capital; but mark this, my 
 young readers, a character for honesty, indus¬ 
 try, and ingenuity is a more certain capital, a 
 capital without risk, always finding some busi¬ 
 ness to enter upon, come what may, crisis, pan¬ 
 ic, or adversity of any kind. With this capi¬ 
 tal, and no other, he was admitted as an equal 
 partner in a jewel and pencil-case manufactory, 
 then a large, increasing, and very profitable es¬ 
 tablishment. On entering upon this lucrative 
 business, if Mr. Curtis had resembled many 
 men in our city, he would have been elated* by 
 his sudden increase of means and flattering 
 
108 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 prospects. He would have taken a “ genteel ” 
 house, furnished it “genteelly,” dressed his wife 
 and children “genteelly,” indulged himself in 
 an occasional bottle of Champagne and his dai¬ 
 ly cigars, and, in short, run into that purely 
 selfish, mean, and unproductive life too com¬ 
 mon, alas! in our great city of New York, and 
 which indicates a very low grade of mental and 
 moral education. But what did Mr. Curtis do ? 
 He found fourteen apprentices in the establish¬ 
 ment ; their number was afterward augmented 
 to thirty. His first consideration was for them 
 —his first consideration was always for young 
 people; they had the material that was to be 
 moulded and formed, and by training them he 
 could best secure their happiness, and benefit 
 his country by preparing for it good citizens. 
 He was a true patriot, and no politician. 
 
 He found these apprentices, some of them 
 living in the families of their employers, and 
 others boarding in cheap lodging-houses. He 
 collected them all in a house adjoining his own 
 home, and there entered upon a system of train- 
 
V 
 
 SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. 109 
 
 ing which he detailed in a letter to a friend, at 
 that friend’s request, who vainly hoped the 
 system might be diffused. 
 
 We shall transcribe a great portion of the 
 letter, which is modestly prefaced with a con¬ 
 fession of his “ deficient education.” 
 
 After their first breakfast he read the Scrip¬ 
 tures to them, and then told them that, as they 
 were henceforth to live together, they should 
 adopt some rule of life, and in the evening they 
 would again meet to consider what that rule 
 should be. 
 
 In the evening he began by stating that 
 great truth which lies at the foundation of our 
 country’s Declaration of Independence, that all 
 men are in the pursuit of happiness, and then 
 led them to consider what would most surely 
 promote their happiness here and hereafter. 
 
 4 
 
 lie told them the secret lay in a few words 
 taught by Christ, and proven by all observa¬ 
 tion and experience: “Do unto others as ye 
 would that others should do unto you.” He 
 then paraphrased this golden rule, and made it 
 
110 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 plain to tlie boys that, as eacb one loyecl to 
 have bis own way and will, it was best to come 
 to an understanding bow eacb should best se¬ 
 cure bis own rights, and prevent the infringe¬ 
 ment of the rights of others; that, as time was 
 their most precious possession, they should first 
 agree how that was to be disposed of. 
 
 “ I proposed, therefore,” writes Mr. Curtis, 
 “ that a committee should be appointed to take 
 the subject into consideration, and report at 
 their earliest convenience.” The following re¬ 
 port was duly presented: 
 
 “Mr. Curtis is our executive. Each boy is 
 a member of the republic, and all rules and 
 regulations, and the execution of the same, shall 
 be made and adjudged by the body. 
 
 “The hour for going to bed shall be ten 
 o’clock, when the lights shall be all extin¬ 
 guished.” 
 
 (“ This,” says Mr. Curtis, “ I did, and it gave 
 me an opportunity to observe and correct what 
 many mothers neglect, the maintenance of neat¬ 
 ness and comfort in their bed-rooms, and their 
 
SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. Ill 
 
 perfect ventilation.’ 7 One of liis family says, 
 “My father never omitted going every night 
 to the bed of each apprentice.” To a friend 
 he himself said, “ I always tucked in the littlest 
 fellows, and gave them a good-night kiss.”) 
 
 We proceed with the articles of this juvenile 
 Constitution. “Hot a word is to be spoken 
 unless addressed to the foreman of the room, 
 who is chosen by the inmates of the room, to 
 hold his appointment during pleasure. His 
 duty is to see that order, decency, and decorum 
 are observed, and that every garment is kept 
 in its place. 
 
 “ On Sabbath-days each member must at¬ 
 tend the stated meetings of the church his pa¬ 
 rents shall select, unless excused by the execu¬ 
 tive. 
 
 “Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday even¬ 
 ings shall be devoted to English studies; Tues¬ 
 day and Friday evenings to such amusements 
 as shall be agreed on for the time; Saturday 
 evening to gymnasium exercises, and to cleans¬ 
 ing the body with soap and water. 
 
112 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 “Every Monday evening a chairman must 
 be balloted for to take the chair of the execu¬ 
 tive during his absence. 
 
 “No member can attend a fire without the 
 permission of the executive. 
 
 “ The body can pardon or release from any 
 punishment.” 
 
 Thus far the Constitution, so called. It was 
 not very formally drafted, the boys not being 
 much more fit for that nice work than the au¬ 
 dacious politicians of the French Revolution, 
 who would make a Constitution one day and 
 abolish it the next. 
 
 It was drafted by the boys, but, as there 
 gleams through it the wisdom of more expe¬ 
 rience than theirs, they were probably docile 
 to their teacher’s suggestions. 
 
 The value of time, the necessity of order, de¬ 
 cency, decorum, and cleanliness, are made prom¬ 
 inent. If we had then enjoyed the facilities of 
 the Croton water, Mr. Curtis would have re- 
 
SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. 118 
 
 quired a daily bath. Gymnastic exercises were 
 then but just introduced into a few of our 
 highest schools, and this vigilant man, always 
 on the watch-tower, always looking out for ev¬ 
 ery kind of education in the life-school, pro¬ 
 vided gymnastics for these boys at a sedentary 
 trade. 
 
 Regular attendance at church was required. 
 Mr. Curtis was neither bigot nor sectarian. His 
 religion was not something apart from his 
 week-day life; it did not consist in “long 
 prayers” and solemn faces, and “bowing the 
 head down like a bulrush.” It was the relig¬ 
 ion of a cheerful, loving spirit; the religion 
 that “honors all men,” that looseth the bands 
 of the wicked, that “ undoeth heavy burdens;” 
 the religion from which “ the light breaks forth 
 as the morning.” He reverenced God, the 
 Father of all; he reverenced His Word, and 
 he reverenced His day of rest. He did not 
 give in to the notion of making it a day of 
 mere amusement. He wished his boys to make 
 it a day of worship, of peace, of holy medita- 
 
 II 
 
114 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 tion, of charitable deeds, and of cheerful social 
 enjoyment among dear friends. 
 
 Mr. Curtis had a horror of the tendency to 
 rowdyism among some of our boys, and from 
 that came the prohibition to attend fires. 
 
 The working of this little in-door republic is 
 better shown in what Mr. Curtis called “ Prac¬ 
 tice ” than in this informal instrument qf a Con¬ 
 stitution. 
 
 OUR PRACTICE. 
 
 u Breakfast at seven o’clock, dinner at one, 
 supper at seven o’clock the year round: do not 
 work after seven o’clock. After breakfast read 
 a portion of Scripture. After dinner select 
 reading for about ten minutes; then from fif¬ 
 teen to thirty minutes were occupied by com¬ 
 munications from the chair, or each one read¬ 
 ing his library-book from the 1 Mechanics’ So¬ 
 ciety Library.’ These, for convenience, were 
 placed on a shelf under the table. Reading 
 was permitted during the carving; each wait¬ 
 ed till all were served.” By these regulations 
 Mr. Curtis meant to secure quiet and good 
 
SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. 115 
 
 manners at table, and to avoid the hurry and 
 rush from eating to work so prevalent in our 
 working nation, so fatal to health and to good 
 manners, and so unfavorable to the innocent 
 and refining pleasures of our social existence. 
 
 After tea the little republic was resolved into 
 a court of inquiry and trial. “ The chair asks 
 if there is any business. This question em¬ 
 braces all that relates to our moral walk, all 
 social offenses, such as nicknaming, teasing, 
 twitting, provoking, ridiculing, etc., up to those 
 of striking, swearing, lying, stealing, etc. The 
 charge is made, the accused rises and names 
 five jurors. The facts are stated, and, if re¬ 
 quired, proven; the pleadings are had; the 
 charge is given from the chair, and the offense 
 commented on; the jurors retire, elect their 
 foreman, who, when they have agreed (which 
 is not always till our next sitting), reports the 
 verdict. The adjudged has the right of an ap¬ 
 peal to the body, or a rehearing by the same 
 jurors. Their verdicts are usually, for the first 
 offense, a reprimand from the chair; for the 
 
116 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 second, some light deprivation of their pleas¬ 
 ures, such as not eating at the table, exclusion 
 from the dining-room, and being condemned to 
 eat their meals at their work-bench and go 
 thence to bed, to confinement within the prem¬ 
 ises, and to be shut up in Coventry,* and, last 
 and worst, an expulsion from the body, and 
 restraint to the sole control of the executive. 
 The offender can only be restored by a vote of 
 two thirds of the body. New-comers some¬ 
 times proving intractable, the jurors, after sev¬ 
 eral trials, have recommended ‘that they be 
 returned to their parents.’ ” 
 
 Mr. Curtis proceeds to state the operation of 
 his system. He found there was no difficulty 
 in saving an hour every day from work for 
 mental improvement, nor in quickening the ob¬ 
 servation of his boys, and rousing their curios¬ 
 ity to understand the nature of the things be¬ 
 fore their eyes. He pursued a course not un¬ 
 common with intelligent parents, and turned 
 
 * A punishment which excludes the culprit from all 
 companionship and conversation. 
 
SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. 117 
 
 the meal-times, -which, with the lower animals 
 only, should be mere feeding-time, into seasons 
 of pleasant instruction. The boys were set to 
 inquire into the composition of their bread and 
 butter, the history of the potato, etc. Such as 
 could write (many could not when they first 
 came to the establishment) were to state the 
 result of their inquiries. These extended to 
 every country and clime, and to their history 
 in past ages. The boys ascertained the use and 
 relative value of vegetables, the relative con¬ 
 dition of different countries producing them; 
 they learned the processes of preparation from 
 the cooking of potatoes to the making of mo¬ 
 lasses and sugar. Well instructed in their na¬ 
 ture and effects, no difficulty was found, Mr. 
 Curtis says, in inducing his boys to reject un¬ 
 ripe fruit. They discriminated between whole¬ 
 some and unwholesome vegetables, would re¬ 
 joice in cole-slaw (cabbage-salad), and reject 
 the indigestible boiled cabbage. That knowl¬ 
 edge is power is a common maxim; knowledge 
 was health in this case, for Mr. Curtis says 
 
118 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 “the health, of our boys was much promoted 
 by these inquiries. During the epidemics that 
 have visited the city, we have enjoyed a state 
 of health that not only called forth the admi¬ 
 ration of the physicians, but the comments of 
 our neighbors. Not a death nor an indispo¬ 
 sition of three days occurred in our family. 
 We had but one case of cholera, and that yield¬ 
 ed easily. I can not admit that any of my fam¬ 
 ily became temperate in eating or select in 
 their food but under a full conviction that both 
 tended to the promotion of health. 
 
 “From vegetable our boys proceeded to an 
 investigation of animal food.” And here Mr. 
 Curtis wisely remarks that, though an honest 
 observation shows that animal food is not in¬ 
 dispensable to sedentary persons, yet, as wise 
 men have understood these matters better than 
 we (and wise men eat meat), it is not worth 
 while to depart from their usages. 
 
 He says he was not a little amused with the 
 confused notions of the boys in the beginning, 
 some putting the horse at the head of the ani- 
 
SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. 119 
 
 mals, others the hen, some being champions for 
 the goose, and many for the dog. But it ap¬ 
 pears they did not go very far in their investi¬ 
 gations without coming to a juster classification. 
 . If the boys had commanded the ark, they would 
 have rejected the Salique law, and have made 
 the cow the queen of the kingdom within it. 
 “ They found, in pursuing their inquiries,” says 
 Mr. Curtis, “ how much that animal contributes 
 to our comfort and convenience. Many of our 
 city children are reared to manhood, and 
 thought to be learned, and yet do not know 
 what our boys were now informed of, viz., how 
 butter and cheese are made. They were in¬ 
 structed in the art and mystery of the tanner, 
 the currier, the dyer, the comb, the button, 
 and the glove maker. They heard for the first 
 time a fact, of which I have known English 
 gold-beaters, that had worked ten years at their 
 trade, to be ignorant, viz., that the gold-beater’s 
 skin was from the cow, and that the gold leaf 
 so much used could not be made without it.” 
 Mr. Curtis goes on to detail their studies in the 
 
120 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 animal kingdom, and how their knowledge of 
 the beneficent uses of animals led his boys to 
 the conclusion that “ nothing was made in vain, 
 and that, though they could not perhaps see 
 the utility of the crow, the kingfisher, the rat, 
 musquito, flea, etc., they inferred it from what 
 they did know; and they learned to look rev¬ 
 erently upon the meanest of God’s creatures, 
 and never wantonly to kill or torment them.” 
 
 From animals he directed their attention to 
 metals. They were workmen in gold and sil¬ 
 ver, and it was easy to awaken their curiosity 
 about them. They began with the mining; 
 went through all the subtle processes of prep¬ 
 aration of the ore, and the manufacture of tools. 
 Thence they proceeded to chemistry, the laws 
 of heat, the nature of alkalies, salts, and all the 
 various agencies involved in their trade. 
 
 They were soon made to realize the necessi¬ 
 ty of a good English education, and readily ap¬ 
 plied themselves to learning reading, spelling, 
 writing, and arithmetic. In these branches Mr. 
 Curtis was himself their teacher, and “their 
 
SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. 121 
 
 proficiency,” lie says, “was as great as if they 
 had paid twenty or thirty dollars a quarter.” 
 For higher branches teachers were employed 
 and paid by the firm. Drawing was included 
 among these. Latin and French some learned, 
 says Mr. Curtis, but “outside the establish¬ 
 ment,” from which we infer that such of the 
 lads as pursued these studies (rather rare among 
 mechanics’ apprentices) themselves paid their 
 teachers. “Instruction in the nature of the 
 government of the country and its laws was 
 not neglected. They attended courses of lec¬ 
 tures on the sciences, and had season tickets to 
 Peale’s Museum.” They were paid for by the 
 liberal firm, and, we presume, were included 
 among the “limited amusements” of which, as 
 Mr. Curtis states, the firm defrayed the ex¬ 
 pense. 
 
 At the end of these details of his enlighten¬ 
 ed and benevolent labor, Mr. Curtis says, with 
 a modesty to be admired, “Perhaps I have fa¬ 
 tigued you with what was but a common-sense 
 practice, and you may rather hear how these 
 
122 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 lads got on with their trade. Each boy had a 
 book in the shop in which he entered his day’s 
 work, and extended its value as soon as he 
 could to the established price, one dollar and a 
 half per day; then, at his own election, he be¬ 
 gan task-work, and all that he could earn over 
 that sum was passed to his credit. It was not 
 unusual, before the first year expired, for him 
 to earn from twenty to twenty-five cents excess 
 each day, and before he was of age from fifty 
 cents to one dollar each day. Many, when of 
 age, had, either in the Bank of Savings or in 
 our hands, from three hundred to six hundred 
 dollars, and that after paying each our charge 
 of fifty dollars—our terms, including a supply 
 of their wants (board and clothing), amounting 
 to that sum. Some among them, either from 
 laziness or want of mechanical talent, ended 
 in our debt.” 
 
 It appears that the superior intellectual edu¬ 
 cation of the apprentices did not interfere with 
 their progress in their trade. Mr. Curtis says, 
 “We think some of our boys have shown 
 
SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. 123 
 
 themselves superior to any in this country. 
 More than one has done work in watch-cases 
 and dials that has not been equaled in En¬ 
 gland. 
 
 “ The advantages of our boys for variety of 
 work have been greater than in any other shop 
 in the city. Colored men were employed for 
 cleaning the shop and for the dirty work usual¬ 
 ly done by the youngest boys, so that they 
 went at once to their craft. It was the study 
 of their employers to elicit their thinking fac¬ 
 ulties, and if any one suggested an improve¬ 
 ment in a tool to facilitate his work, he was al¬ 
 lowed the benefit of it. This practice led the 
 boy, if he had a genius for invention, to discov¬ 
 er it. Some became tool-makers of masterly 
 workmanship, and executors of work that in 
 Europe embraces six or eight distinct branches.” 
 Mr. Curtis expresses his conviction that the re¬ 
 ceived opinion that it takes six or seven years 
 to perfect a workman is erroneous. “If,” he 
 says, “the boy is made a reflecting being, and 
 proper encouragement is given to him to as- 
 
124 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 certain what talent he may possess, he may 
 learn in the working of wood and metal all he 
 is capable of in one year.” 
 
 Mr. Curtis’s opinion on this subject is enti¬ 
 tled to our respect. He was not a “ fast ” man. 
 No man ever better loved completeness and 
 finish. 
 
 Mr. Curtis maintains that development of 
 talent and acquisition of knowledge, and not 
 tariffs and legislative enactments, are necessary 
 to make us, through our manufacturers, inde¬ 
 pendent of England. “Let,” he says, “our 
 mechanical arts be as free as our agriculture, 
 and they will be found to stand upon a founda¬ 
 tion that England (nor Europe) can not attain 
 until she changes her mode of treating her ap¬ 
 prentices. They are taught to do as they are 
 told, and not taught to think, and in this way 
 are made to serve capitalists. The great doc¬ 
 trine of division of labor, which makes a pin, 
 in its formation, pass through five or six hands, 
 will forever hold the operator in servitude.” 
 
 Mr. Curtis appeals to the fact: “Till within 
 
SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. 125 
 
 five or six years,” he says (we believe his let¬ 
 ter, which bears no date, was written about 
 1835), “it was believed that no American 
 workman could make a watch-case or dial. 
 About five years since we selected two of our 
 boys and began case-making. None of us had 
 ever made one or seen one made. Before two 
 years expired one of the boys was out of his 
 time, and during the six months thereafter he 
 earned by piece-work eight hundred and fifty 
 dollars. The other, whose field was more ex¬ 
 tended, executed, before two years expired, the 
 variety of work in watch-cases which, in En¬ 
 gland, required nine different workmen, each 
 of whom must have served his regular appren¬ 
 ticeship, and could not do a stroke of work be¬ 
 yond that which he had been taught. His 
 work was as well made as any done in En¬ 
 gland. As soon as he was out of his time we 
 offered him fifteen hundred dollars a year. He 
 declined our offer, and began business, having 
 no capital but his trade, his character, and four 
 hundred dollars. He has been two years in 
 
126 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 business, is making money, and his work takes 
 precedence of English work. 
 
 “We gave six dollars a day to the other 
 boy. He is now our successor in this branch; 
 has apprentices, who, after serving a year, are 
 working with him at journeymen’s wages from 
 two to three dollars per day. There are simi¬ 
 lar facts in relation to the pencil-making busi¬ 
 ness. "VYe could have sent them to England 
 and received a good profit any time these five 
 years but for this high tariff. This is not true 
 of our business only. I know no manufacture 
 yet attempted in this country at which we can 
 not work cheaper and better than they, unless 
 they have an advantage in the raw material 
 and in coal. 
 
 “One word,” Mr. Curtis says in conclusion, 
 “as to the acquirements made by my boys in 
 their schooling. They were all fair writers; 
 sufficiently acquainted with figures for our busi¬ 
 ness ; most of them understood book-keeping, 
 and all had some knowledge of geography and 
 history. Some among them understood the 
 
SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. 127 
 
 Latin and French grammar, and one (who could 
 earn from two and a half to three dollars per 
 day) wrote well. Many of his pieces appeared 
 in the Mirror and other periodicals. His taste, 
 unhappily, was for writing plays, some of which 
 our boys represented for their amusement be¬ 
 fore their friends on our premises. I found it 
 expedient to tolerate amusements that I could 
 have wished to dispense with; but we were 
 obliged to make our own society, as no visit¬ 
 ing, except on special occasions, was permitted, 
 unless with their parents.” 
 
 We have heard Mr. Curtis give a notable in¬ 
 stance of the benefit he derived from the de¬ 
 velopment of dramatic taste among his boys—a 
 taste so deeply implanted in nature that a wise 
 man, seeing it is bootless to attempt to eradi¬ 
 cate it, should study to give it a right direction. 
 This dramatic tendency is like some plants; if 
 left to prurient growth, they overrun and out- 
 root less beautiful but more nutritious plants, 
 and themselves run to useless excess, and, in¬ 
 stead of blossoming in sweet odorous flowers, 
 
128 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 throw out poisonous abortions. God set all the 
 plants in the garden, but he set man to tend 
 them; so he gave universally the love of dra¬ 
 matic entertainment. Man has perverted it 
 from use to abuse. In 1831, when for the first 
 time the cholera visited New York, there was 
 a general panic. The workshops were, for the 
 most part, abandoned, and much confusion and 
 distress ensued. It was then disputed whether 
 the disease was contagious. Mr. Curtis believed 
 that it was not, and that the disease might be 
 averted by scrupulous temperance, neatness, 
 and ventilation, if the courage and cheerfulness 
 of the boys were sustained. He consulted their 
 parents and his partners, and the result was 
 that their workshop was kept open. Mr. Cur¬ 
 tis’s wife and children of course remained in 
 the city. The children of others were not to 
 be exposed to a danger he feared for his own. 
 The boys had no recreation out of doors, and 
 their several talents were taxed for amuse¬ 
 ment. The playwright wrote a play; the lads 
 that had a taste for painting painted the scenes; 
 
SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. 129 
 
 those skilled in mechanics arranged them; they 
 all were, for the nonce, players, and a play was 
 got up that, if not quite as diverting as the Py- 
 ramus and Thisbe of Bottom the Weaver, 
 served the excellent purpose of keeping the 
 bright spirit of health among them. The work 
 by day, and the little home-theatre at evening, 
 kept off the demon. There was but one case 
 of cholera, and that yielded at once. Mr. Cur¬ 
 tis’s experiment was completely successful, and 
 should have been published from one end of 
 the land to the other; but he was a man of 
 deeds, not words, and so at the distance of 
 twenty-six years a fact is first recorded that de¬ 
 serves a place in every journal of health. We 
 hope it may make some impression on our 
 dear schoolboy and schoolgirl readers. For 
 them it was that Mr. Curtis lighted his candle 
 —that is, to them he mainly devoted his tal¬ 
 ents—and it is for them that we chiefly hope 
 to preserve the light of his example. They 
 
 see how he baffled that most frightful disease, 
 
 / 
 
 the cholera. Diseases will come; they will pre- 
 
 m 
 
 T 
 
130 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 vail in our cities, and they will find tlieir food 
 and ministers in filthy dens, in cellars, and gar¬ 
 rets, and among people whose blood is corrupt¬ 
 ed with bad food and strong drink. But God 
 helps those who help themselves. Let those 
 sprightly spirits, Activity and Cheerfulness, go 
 with you to your work; and those smiling 
 ones, Temperance, and Cleanliness, and Family 
 Kindness, dwell in your homes; and, depend 
 on it, when the Destroyer comes, he will pass 
 over you, seeing a mark upon your habitations 
 as plain as that upon “the door-posts and lin¬ 
 tels” of the Israelites. 
 
 We would rather Mr. Curtis’s merits should 
 be told by the beautiful facts of his life than 
 by any encomiums of ours; but we must en¬ 
 treat our readers to pause upon this work of 
 his for his apprentices. There may be others 
 who have done likewise, and who have never 
 been heard of, because their work was as noise¬ 
 less as his. What would New York now be— 
 to what a high mark in man’s moral progress 
 our country might now have risen, if there 
 
SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. 181 
 
 were many other mechanics fathers and bene¬ 
 factors to their apprentices, as Mr. Curtis was; 
 if the masters were so to their slaves; if the 
 manufacturer, in his great field of labor, spared 
 some of his zeal and vigilance from the money- 
 profits, and gave it to the perdurable profits in 
 human improvement; if even fathers were to 
 their children what Joseph Curtis was to his 
 apprentices! Truly God is patient with his 
 creatures! 
 
 But this beautiful work was destined to an 
 untimely end, and by the baleful influence of 
 that ever-recurring vice of our “fast” people, 
 the making haste to be rich. 
 
 This is the vice of our country, the mania of 
 our city. Mr. Curtis’s partners had caught it. 
 His sound mind resisted the contagion. The 
 fancy speculation of that time sprang from the 
 discovery of gold in Virginia and North Caro¬ 
 lina. Mr. Curtis’s partners were eager to em¬ 
 bark in it. He, with characteristic moderation, 
 remonstrated, repeating the old adage, “ Shoe¬ 
 makers, stick to your last.” “We are rich,” he 
 
132 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 said, “making more money than we or our 
 families shall ever need: let well enough 
 alone.” They insisted, and he, being a junior 
 partner, was obliged to yield. The conse¬ 
 quence was failure of the concern. 
 
 Mr. Curtis made a settlement of their affairs 
 through multiplied and perplexing difficulties. 
 All the debts, excepting those of the gold 
 mines, were paid by him as financier of the 
 concern, and he came out of these pecuniary 
 embarrassments as few men do, with untar¬ 
 nished honor, and a spotless good name. 
 
 There are many kind-hearted but weak peo¬ 
 ple in the world, who make themselves very 
 busy in supplying the wants of the poor, but 
 do not reflect how much better it is to teach 
 the poor how to supply their own wants. Mr. 
 Curtis’s object was to secure to the lads in his 
 charge the power of independence and progress, 
 and the ability to help others. His first duty, 
 for they were apprenticed to him for a trade, 
 was to teach them that trade, and that it ap¬ 
 pears he did completely. He was himself an 
 
SCHOOL FOB APPRENTICES. 133 
 
 ingenious and finished mechanic. He rejoiced 
 in good work faithfully done. He meant to 
 have his apprentices not only up to the mark, 
 but to excel other workmen. To accomplish 
 this, he well knew they must not be themselves 
 mere machines, but thinking beings; so he in¬ 
 formed and stimulated their minds. Hor did 
 he mean to make them merely first-rate me¬ 
 chanics, but, extending their instruction far be¬ 
 yond the bounds of the workshop, he turned 
 out intelligent men, quite fit to be agreeable 
 companions (perchance often instructors) to 
 men who are brought up in colleges, and law, 
 medical, and theological schools. 
 
 The best part of his training, the most deli¬ 
 cate and difficult, that on which he was most 
 intent, in which he never wearied, morning, 
 noon, or night, he was too modest to set down 
 in the communication to his friend from which 
 we have quoted. He labored to make his boys 
 good mechanics and intelligent men: this was 
 necessary to their success and good standing in 
 life; but he desired much more to make them 
 
134 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 good Christian men, for this he felt to be essen¬ 
 tial beyond this short and uncertain life; so 
 he cultivated their good affections, he watched 
 against their selfish propensities, he tried to put 
 in them the generous feeling that should make 
 them refuse any seeming good to themselves 
 that must involve others in loss. He never 
 wearied his boys with what boys very soon 
 weary of, and call, because it does weary them, 
 preaching; but his daily life spoke to their 
 hearts, and it flowered out from that text, 
 “Heal justly, love mercy, and walk humbly 
 with your God.” 
 
 Manners were a great point with Mr. Curtis. 
 He regarded them as the expression and dem¬ 
 onstration of the social virtues. He certain¬ 
 ly was not a polished man, but he never offend¬ 
 ed against any essential of good manners. Can 
 one imagine a good Christian without these es¬ 
 sentials—modesty, gentleness, reverence, un¬ 
 selfishness ? These Christian virtues strike the 
 root of good manners. 
 
 When Mr. Curtis’s connection with his ap- 
 
SCHOOL FOR APPRENTICES. 135 
 
 prentices was dissolved, “it was,” says Miss 
 Curtis, “ a grievous time to my father. Even 
 to this day we hear those who were his ap¬ 
 prentices say, ‘Those days in the “corner 
 house” were the happiest of our lives.’ ” 
 
136 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 CHAPTEK VII. 
 
 PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 
 
 “ Oh that I were an orange-tree, 
 
 That busie plant! 
 
 Then should I ever laden be, 
 
 And never want 
 
 Some fruit for him that dressed me.” 
 
 As Hugh. Miller has aptly entitled his auto¬ 
 biography “My Schools and Schoolmasters,” so 
 might this true story of Joseph Curtis’s life be 
 divided into periods of beneficence, and called 
 his Harvest-fields and Harvests. The broadest 
 and richest of these was in the Public Schools. 
 
 Teaching, as we have already had occasion 
 to quote from Mr. Curtis himself, was his vo¬ 
 cation—his vocation, we believe, in the strict 
 catholic sense. The divine call was in his fit¬ 
 ness for the work. He began, as has been told, 
 in the early days of his married life, with the 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 187 
 
 instruction of a class of young men in tlie even¬ 
 ings at his own house; then followed his care 
 of the schools of the Manumission Society; 
 then his sacred office at the House of Refuge ; 
 then his beautiful school for his apprentices; 
 and, finally, his indefatigable and unparalleled 
 work for the Public Schools, of which we are 
 now to give some particulars. He became a 
 member of the Public School Society in 1839, 
 and continued his membership till 1853, the 
 epoch of its dissolution, or, rather, the epoch 
 when the Public Schools and the Ward Schools 
 were amalgamated. He then went into the 
 Board of Education as one of its fifteen com¬ 
 missioners, and 11 worked diligently,” says 
 Greorge Trimble, his honored associate, “till 
 his term expired.” 
 
 Some of our young friends still in the Pub¬ 
 lic Schools must remember him—a man about 
 five feet eight inches in height; not too high 
 to stoop to all their little wants. A very mod¬ 
 est, quiet-looking old gentleman he was, so 
 neat and simple in his apparel that one might 
 
138 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 liave mistaken him for a member of tbe Socie¬ 
 ty of Friends; but be was tbe friend of all hu¬ 
 manity, restricted to no society. Tbe children’s 
 loving memory will recall bis large, soft, dark 
 gray eye; bis dark hair, silvered by time, and 
 curling round bis temples and neck; bis smile, 
 that was like sunshine to them, all combining 
 to give him an expression of benignity that 
 made them look up to him with love more 
 than fear, even when be rebuked them; and 
 sure were they, when be walked with noiseless 
 steps up and down tbe long school-room, and 
 in and out among tbe benches, that no misde¬ 
 meanor would escape that watchful gray eye, 
 no slovenly habit with pen or sponge, no dirty 
 face, soiled bands, dirty nails, unbrushed hair, 
 or even unbrusbed shoes, would pass unnoticed. 
 A boy soiling tbe upper leather of one shoe 
 with tbe sole of another, or lounging over bis 
 desk, or a girl stooping over her task, never es¬ 
 caped bis rebuking but gentle tap. He would 
 stop to right an awry collar, or to adjust a little 
 girl’s apron slovenly put on, giving her, at tbe 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 139 
 
 same time, some pithy maxim, expressing the 
 value of neatness and order, and with it such a 
 loving pat on her cheek as would make it dim¬ 
 ple with a smile; and so, as sunshine causes 
 the plants to grow, his love made the counsel 
 thrive. The dreadful solemnity of his dis¬ 
 pleasure at any violence, or vulgarity, or false¬ 
 hood these children can never forget; nor how 
 difficult it was to hide vice or foible from his 
 eye. His right of guardianship was demon- 
 strated to them in modes that left them no de¬ 
 sire to question it. How many acts of parental 
 care are remembered by the successive genera¬ 
 tions that have passed under his supervision! 
 Mothers who now know what it is to watch 
 over helpless little children, recount that when 
 they were such, and belonged to the Primary 
 School in Crosby Street, there was a cold day, 
 when it had been snowing from early morning. 
 The snows were drifted in the streets, the wind 
 was howling, and the short winter’s day was 
 drawing to a close, and their hearts were full 
 of dread of encountering the driving, blinding 
 
140 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 snow in their way to their obscure homes. Mr. 
 Curtis came (some of them “knew he would,” 
 as the poor frozen sailors said to Dr. Kane) with 
 three large, roomy sleighs (got at his own ex¬ 
 pense), packed all the little ones in, took the 
 least into his own care, and did not leave them 
 till they were all safe with their mothers. 
 
 Many such touching acts of kindness might 
 be recorded; but, though they impress us like 
 the delicious showers in a drought, they bear 
 no comparison to that steady work and care, 
 that, like the providential succession of seed¬ 
 time and harvest, day and night, marked Mr. 
 Curtis’s devotion to the schools. “ He discov¬ 
 ered at an early period the deceptive manner 
 in which examinations were carried on, and 
 changed the whole policy to such a degree that 
 the very teachers who for years had been deem¬ 
 ed most successful were proved most unfaith¬ 
 ful, and those who had been most blamed turn¬ 
 ed out most worthy. He made a close scien¬ 
 tific investigation of the laws of ventilation, and 
 procured them to be applied to the Public 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YOKK. 141 
 
 / 
 
 Schools. He studied the anatomy of the hu¬ 
 man form to find out just what kind of sup¬ 
 port the spine of youth required in its seden¬ 
 tary attitude, and invented school-chairs and 
 other furniture since universally adopted.”* 
 
 “ He taught the children,” says his friend, 
 George Trimble, “how they should sit, stand, 
 and walk; how to hold and use their books; 
 how to sweep; doing his best for them for 
 whom his love was unbounded. ”f 
 
 He also taught them how to hold their books, 
 and how to turn over the leaves. Some of our 
 eminent preachers and lecturers, who still ad¬ 
 here to the old practice of the wetted thumb, 
 might have profited by his lessons. Mr. Cur¬ 
 tis’s labors were not sinecures. He had some 
 difficulty in overcoming the opposition to the 
 
 * Dr. Bellows. 
 
 f To the few of our readers who do not know the worth 
 of George Trimble’s testimony, we may be permitted to say 
 that he is, according to the strictest sect of his religion, a 
 “Friend”—one of those who allow themselves no more 
 decoration or extravagance in words than in dress. 
 
 / 
 
142 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 introduction of slate-sponges into the schools. 
 The conservatives contended for the old usage, 
 for dependence on personal resources, the sali¬ 
 va and the palm of the hand. But the sponges 
 carried it over their heads, and helped to form 
 a habit of cleanliness in thousands of children. 
 Joseph Curtis was a strict economist, but in his 
 estimation it was a miserable economy that 
 would sacrifice the cultivation of the important 
 habit of cleanliness to the sordid saving of a 
 few hundred dollars. 
 
 His teaching was after the good old manner 
 of parable and maxim. When his maxims 
 were communicated, he expounded them by a 
 pithy exhortation. He distributed rules of 
 manners, printed on a small bit of paper. We 
 have before us the following examples: 
 
 “ My son, never sit while a lady is standing, 
 nor a man, if he is older than yourself. 
 
 “Hever accept a seat without giving an ex¬ 
 pression of thanks by word or sign.” 
 
 “ Order is Heaven’s first lawso said the 
 poet, and to Joseph Curtis the world was very 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 143 
 
 unheavenly without it. He continually ex¬ 
 horted the children on this point. He thought 
 nothing too trifling to be noticed: children 
 meeting children were always to pass to the 
 right. t: The right, as in all military and civil 
 organizations, was the head.” He introduced 
 many mechanical contrivances to facilitate or¬ 
 der in the schools. He provided “ a place for 
 every thing f and insisted that every thing should 
 be kept in its place; and this rule was held up 
 to the children as next to the golden one. 
 This was of incalculable benefit to children 
 who, for the most part, came from homes where 
 they had not received the first idea of order. 
 He was fond of telling them anecdotes to illus¬ 
 trate the worth of this virtue by the want of it, 
 and there was one which some of our young 
 friends may still remember. It was an occur¬ 
 rence in the life of an acquaintance of Mr. Cur¬ 
 tis, and at his request it was written down 
 (somewhat amplified) by the writer of this me¬ 
 moir. We feel sure it will give pleasure to 
 those of our young friends who heard it from 
 
144 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 the lips of Mr. Curtis to recall it; we therefore 
 give it at length. 
 
 John Leake and the Pail of Water. 
 
 John Leake lived in the neighborhood of 
 Mr. Curtis’s Connecticut home. Order was not 
 Leake’s first law, nor his last. Though he was 
 a good-natured, easy-tempered, obliging man, 
 there was no one whom his neighbors so much 
 dreaded seeing approach their homes. “ There 
 comes Leake to borrow something,” they would 
 say, and hoe, hammer, or rake were grudgingly 
 lent, for they were certain that Leake would 
 lose or forget the article, or, at best, return it 
 minus a handle. A story went the rounds that 
 Leake’s next neighbor, out of patience, said to 
 him, “Yes, take the hoe; but you must use it 
 only in my corn-field.” Time went on, and 
 Leake’s affairs ran down, as slack men’s will, 
 and he decided to pull up stakes and move to 
 Vermont, then a tract of unsettled and produc¬ 
 tive land, and called the “ new state.” Leake’s 
 Connecticut friends gathered about the great 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 145 
 
 wagon in winch, his battered household goods, 
 and his wife and children were packed, and 
 sorry they were, at the last, to part with him; 
 they now forgot his teasing faults, and felt only 
 that he was a cheerful, kind-hearted fellow. 
 
 Rustic tokens of good-will were offered at 
 parting. The best of these was a bright new 
 axe, with a strong helve, on which the giver’s 
 name and John’s were both carved and painted, 
 and tied together with a true-lover’s knot—an 
 odd flourish for an axe-helve. u Take care of 
 this, John,” said Uncle Ben, the giver, “ and it 
 will be better than gold to you in the new 
 state.” The axe fulfilled its mission; it did 
 prove of more value to Leake than a world 
 full of gold. 
 
 “No offense, John,” said another neighbor, 
 taking a card from his pocket; u here is some¬ 
 thing that, if you will tack it up over your fire¬ 
 place and take heed to it, will be sure to make 
 you a forehanded man in the new state.” 
 Leake looked at the writing on the card. It 
 was the good old household rule: 11 A time for 
 
 K 
 
146 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 every thing, and every thing in its time; a 
 place for every thing, and every thing in its 
 place.” Leake read it aloud, and then the 
 good-natured fellow said, chuckling, “ Thank’e, 
 neighbor; it’s a pretty smart rod, but it sha’n’t 
 fall on a fool’s back. I’ll take care of itand 
 he deposited it in the crown of his hat, his 
 usual place of safe-keeping. “There it goes,” 
 said the giver to one of the by-standers; “ that’s 
 the last of it. Poor Leake! You can’t teach 
 an old dog new tricks.” When the movers 
 halted that day for their nooning, the very 
 first time John took his hat off he dropped 
 out Uncle Ben’s card without perceiving it. 
 His son, Lyman Leake, did see it. Lyman, a 
 lad of ten or eleven, was the very opposite of 
 his father, made so, probably, by the same influ¬ 
 ence that makes the “ light-heeled daughter of 
 the heavy-heeled mother.” Some parents are 
 examples; some, alas! are beacons. Lyman 
 picked up the card, and probably thinking, 
 “ Father will never miss it, and never, never 
 take care of it,” he slipped it into his own little 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 147 
 
 leathern purse, which had also been given him 
 for a parting token. 
 
 Lyman was to learn, by a hard experience, 
 the worth of the words written on that card. 
 A due observance of them through a life-time 
 would give a large figure in money results, be¬ 
 sides a world of comfort. 
 
 The little family arrived, after some mishaps 
 (to be expected), such as losing their whip, 
 leaving their halters and their water-pail at a 
 brook, etc., at their lodge in a vast wilderness. 
 But in two years they got well ahead, in spite 
 of Leake’s destructive and obstructive habits, 
 for he was a hard-working fellow. Fields were 
 cleared and tilled around him ; he had built a 
 small framed house adjoining the log hut; 
 neighbors had come in at no great distance, 
 and a village was growing up not far from 
 him. 
 
 In spite of good advice, he had connected a 
 wood-house and stable with his house. “ Take 
 care, Leake,” said a friend to him; “it needs a 
 careful man to build so. A fire in winter up 
 
148 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 in this cold country is something dreadful: it’s 
 like gunpowder—a flash, and all is gone.” 
 
 “Oh, never fear,” said Leake; “I have had 
 my portion of ill fortune in this world; my 
 luck has turned.” (Mr. Curtis often impressed 
 on the children that what shiftless people call 
 ill fortune and bad luck is but the inevitable 
 consequence of their own imprudence or care¬ 
 lessness.) 
 
 It was during the third winter of the Leakes’ 
 residence in.their new home that, just at the 
 close of a short winter’s day, the merry tink¬ 
 ling of sleigh-bells was heard, and the creak¬ 
 ing of the runners on the hard-frozen snow, 
 and a little cutter (a single sleigh) stopped at 
 Leake’s. It was expected; the door opened, 
 and shouts of joy followed, and glad greetings 
 of “uncle,” and “aunt,” and “cousins.” “Un¬ 
 cle Ben” and his family had come from Con¬ 
 necticut to make a long-promised visit. When 
 supper was ended, the card bearing the domes¬ 
 tic axiom caught Uncle Ben’s eye. It was 
 nailed to the wall over the mantle-piece. “I 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 149 
 
 declare!” he exclaimed; “well, I never ex¬ 
 pected to see that bit of pasteboard again. I 
 give yon a credit-mark for preserving that, 
 John.” “ You must give that credit-mark to 
 Lyman, brother; he preserved the card; but 
 you may give me one for teaching him care.” 
 Uncle Ben smiled. “ Yes,” he said, “ you have 
 taught him, John, but wrong end foremost— 
 wrong end foremost.” 
 
 The evening passed off delightfully. The 
 unstinted fire of a new country burned bright¬ 
 ly. A basket of fine apples from the old 
 “home-orchard in Connecticut” was unpack¬ 
 ed, and nuts were cracked and eaten. The 
 elders talked about old times. Leake gave the 
 history of his toils on his new farm, and his 
 successes. He told (he had some right to boast, 
 for he had worked diligently) how much land 
 he had cleared, what crops he had raised, and 
 concluded with, “ My barn is full; I have plen¬ 
 ty of wheat, and corn, and oats in the loft over 
 my wood-house; and pork in my cellar; and 
 my wife has taken care of the trinkets—butter, 
 
150 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 and apple-sauce, and pickles, and the like;” 
 and he ended his boast of rural riches with 
 saying, “I guess, Ben, my old neighbors could 
 not twit me now.” 
 
 “ Your old neighbors, John, always knew 
 you for an honest, hard-working man; it was 
 only your careless ways, your want of order, 
 that troubled us. You know I used to tell 
 you that if you put ever so much meal into 
 a bag with a hole in it, it would run away.” 
 
 “ Yes, yes, I know; and just so Lyman talks 
 now. Among you, you put an old head on his 
 young shoulders.” And thus the elders talk¬ 
 ed, and the youngsters had their pleasure; the 
 visitors telling the wonders of jugglers, and 
 wax-work shows, and delights incident to their 
 down country advanced civilization; and the 
 “new state” children relating adventures with 
 bears and wild-cats, and their own personal 
 concerns with taming squirrels and catching 
 rabbits; and, finally, the evening closed with 
 a game of “forfeits,” in which Lyman, having 
 been sentenced to the common penalty of 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF HEW YORK. 151 
 
 “bowing to the prettiest, kneeling to the wit¬ 
 tiest, and kissing the one he loved best,” de¬ 
 clared that all these dues were to his Cousin 
 Sally. His Cousin Sally protested and resist¬ 
 ed ; the girls all joined her, and, after a laugh¬ 
 ing scramble together, Lyman’s oldest sister 
 caught up a candle, called “ Cousin Sally” to 
 follow her, and they made good their escape to 
 the bed-room, and bolted Lyman out. Lyman 
 retreated; the evening was far advanced, and 
 the Leakes and their guests separated for the 
 night, but not till after Lyman performed a 
 duty that had been postponed by his uncle’s 
 arrival. While his mother, “ on hospitable 
 thoughts intent,” was preparing her little af¬ 
 fairs for the morning’s breakfast, Lyman went 
 to the wood-house to split kindlings for the 
 morning’s fires; and, having finished, he could 
 not resist the temptation of showing his well- 
 preserved axe to his Uncle Ben. “ The boy 
 is a fool about that axe,” said his father; “if 
 it was made of a wedge of gold he could not 
 be more choice of it; he even hides it away 
 
152 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 from me that gave it to him.” Lyman looked 
 at his uncle with a quiet smile. “ Come, come, 
 Lyman,” said his father, “ there’s reason in the 
 roasting of eggs: throw your axe in here for 
 to-night.” He opened the door of a little clos¬ 
 et next the fire-place. “ Don’t go clear back 
 to the wood-house this cold night.” u A place 
 for every thing, and every thing in its jDlace,” 
 replied Lyman, and the axe was returned to 
 the wood-house. “ How that’s what I call su¬ 
 perstitious,” said the father, while he took from 
 the open closet a splinter-broom to sweep up 
 the widespread coals of the fire he had just 
 raked. Jast as he was finishing his wife call¬ 
 ed to him from the kitchen, and, hastily throw¬ 
 ing the broom into the closet , he went to her. 
 “John,” she said, “there’s no water in the 
 house.” 
 
 “Well, what of that?” 
 
 “ Why, you know, I never like to go to bed 
 without a pail of water at hand.” 
 
 “I know that is one of your superstitions.” 
 (John Leake, in spite of all his experience, per- 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YOKK. 153 
 
 sisted in looking upon the provisions of fore¬ 
 sight as “superstitions.”) “Let it go, just for 
 this one night, wife; it’s dark, and biting cold, 
 and the way up to the well all shod with glare 
 
 * ) 7 
 
 ice. 
 
 “ ’Tis bad,” said his wife, meekly, and urged 
 no more; but, as she looked wistfully at the 
 empty pail, she thought, if they should chance 
 to want water in the night, it would not be any 
 better getting it, and an anxious sigh escaped 
 her. “ Coming events” do sometimes seem “ to 
 
 cast their shadows before.” 
 
 * 
 
 The family were soon all in bed, and in their 
 first sleep, the profoundest of the night; but 
 there is no sleep from which a mother can not 
 be awakened by a restless child, and about 
 one o’clock Mrs. Leake was roused from hers 
 by the nestling of her baby. She instantly 
 wakened her husband with, “John, do get up, 
 and see where this smoke comes from; the room 
 is full of it.” Their bed-room was off the sit¬ 
 ting-room ; the door was open into it, and the 
 moment Leake raised his head he saw a bright 
 
154 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 light shining through the crevices of the closet- 
 door into which he had thrown the splinter- 
 broom. Some small coals had adhered to the 
 broom when John swept the hearth, but, shut in 
 the closet with very little air, they had been 
 slow in kindling; but now they had kindled 
 thoroughly, and when Leake sprang to the 
 closet-door and opened it the broom was in a 
 lighted blaze, and the heated partition had 
 taken fire. John seized the broom and threw 
 it in the fire-place, and at that moment the fire 
 had made so little progress that a single pail 
 of water at hand would have extinguished it. 
 
 “ Oh, the pail of water!” shrieked Mrs. Leake. 
 Leake thought with anguish of the empty pail, 
 rushed to the kitchen for it, and rushed to the 
 well. The ground was descending to the house, 
 and, as he had said, “slippery as glass,” and 
 Leake fell. Again he let the bucket down to 
 the deep well and filled his pail, and reached 
 the house with it, but the air had rushed in 
 through the open door and blown up the fire 
 like a furnace bellows. It would not now have 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 155 
 
 felt twenty pails of water. The smoke filled 
 the whole house, and the crackling of the fire 
 and the outcries of John and his wife had 
 awakened the whole family, who now came 
 out—all excepting the two girls, who had bolt¬ 
 ed themselves into the little bed-room, had 
 talked together late into the night, and were 
 now sleeping on in spite of all the mischief, 
 danger, and misery about them. Lyman rush¬ 
 ed through an outer room filled to suffocation 
 with smoke, and shrieked, “Anne! Sally! fire! 
 fire!” There was no answer. In vain he 
 banged against the door: it was too securely 
 bolted. Quick as thought, he sprang to a win¬ 
 dow communicating with the wood-house, pass¬ 
 ed through it, and in a moment returned with 
 his axe. The smoke had become fire—the 
 room was blazing. But, with Heaven’s help 
 and blessing (he said he could not—he could 
 not possibly have done it alone), in a breath 
 the door was battered down, and in another 
 breath the girls jumped from the window un¬ 
 harmed, followed by Lyman. 
 
156 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 The rapid consumption of a wooden house 
 in the country, in a cold, gusty night, can 
 scarcely be conceived of by those who have not 
 witnessed it. There was but just time to ex¬ 
 tricate the horses and cattle from the stable 
 when that, as well as the house and wood- 
 house, was enveloped in flames. All, as Leake’s 
 neighbor had forewarned him, went together, 
 and in one mass of ashes lay the labor of many 
 months—the dear old furniture of the Connec¬ 
 ticut home, all the children’s pretty things, 
 fond memorials and precious keepsakes that no 
 toil, no art, no kindness could make good to 
 them. “And all this dreadful loss,” as Mr. 
 Curtis would repeat to his listeners in the 
 school, “ for the want of a pail of water in the 
 right place. And life saved by the axe being 
 in the ‘right place,’ instead of having been 
 thrown into the closet, as Leake proposed, be¬ 
 side the broom, by the careless use of which all 
 the harm was done,” 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 157 
 
 Mr. Curtis first suggested the fundamental 
 ideas of that excellent little book which has 
 been of such service in the Public Schools, 
 u Conversations on Common Things,” and we 
 believe it was written at his request. 
 
 He has left a sort of manual, which illustrates, 
 in his simple, practical style, his ideas of the 
 best mode of teaching in the Primary Schools. 
 He did not receive his notions from theories in 
 books; they were the result of his own wis¬ 
 dom and observation. 
 
 Some of the children still in the schools will 
 remember how often, while they were in the 
 Primary Schools, and yet in ignorance of the 
 rudiments instilled there, they have stood in a 
 semicircle before the black-board, and, with 
 their eyes turning eagerly from that to the 
 dear teacher, they have received a lesson simi¬ 
 lar to the following, which we transfer from 
 Mr. Curtis’s manuscript: 
 
 11 After the word Cat has been given out by 
 the teacher, and the class have each written it, 
 he asks, 1 What word is this?’ The class an- 
 
158 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 swer, ‘ Cat.’ Teaclier. ‘ Now spell it.’ They 
 spell it. ‘Yes, this is the way to spell cat. 
 Now you can spell cat, and write it too. A 
 cat, you know, is an animal, and it is called a 
 domestic animal because it stays in the house 
 with people. It has four legs. All four-leg¬ 
 ged animals are quadrupeds. It catches mice 
 and rats, and eats them. Most little girls like 
 to have a kitten to play with. A kitten, you 
 know, is a young cat. Little boys are some¬ 
 times pleased with kittens; they like to see 
 them play. I have known some boys that 
 tease and hurt cats; now this is not right. I 
 have heard of a little boy who had been sick, 
 and when he w:as getting better he wanted to 
 play with a cat, and he whipped and abused 
 the cat, and made it cry; and then it would 
 run away from the boy; and then he would 
 cry because the cat would not stay with him, 
 and let him do as he had a mind to. His 
 mother would go and get the cat, and bring it 
 to him in the bed, and make it lie still; and he 
 would then pull the cat’s ears, and hair, and 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 159 
 
 tail. One day, when the boy’s mother was out 
 of the room, and nobody was in the room but 
 the boy and the cat, and he was hurting the 
 cat very much, she bit the boy, and scratched 
 him in his face and eyes till the boy was very 
 bloody. He cried and halloed as loud as he 
 could till his mother came. She saw the cat 
 tearing the boy dreadfully, and as soon as the 
 cat saw the mother she jumped off the bed and 
 ran out of the house, and never returned. (Sen¬ 
 sible cat!) The mother said she would have 
 the cat killed; but the father, when he came 
 and saw how fearfully the poor boy was scratch¬ 
 ed, said he hoped the cat would not come back 
 again, but if she did he would not have her 
 killed, for if his boy had let the cat alone she 
 would not have hurt him.” Here was a lesson 
 in morals appended to the idea the pupil had 
 acquired of cat —justice and mercy both incul¬ 
 cated. 
 
 Another example of the word not is given, 
 and concludes with this illustration: “You use 
 this word when your mother sends you of an 
 
160 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 errand, and you tell lier you will not stop by 
 the way; or when you promise that you will 
 not tell a falsehood—a story.” 
 
 The word snow being spelled and defined in 
 the usual way, he says, “ Now for the forma¬ 
 tion of snow, which comes from the clouds— 
 but what are clouds made of? (so here we 
 must stop to talk about clouds); and when we 
 find that clouds are made of a material that 
 will make snow, we shall more readily under¬ 
 stand how snow is formed; so let us inquire 
 and see if we can understand how clouds are 
 formed. You may remember that last Mon¬ 
 day morning when you came to school it was 
 very foggy. You could not see a church stee¬ 
 ple any farther than one square; and if you 
 were on the wharf, you could not see more than 
 half across the river. The fog was so thick 
 that the man that steered the ferry-boat could 
 not see the land, and he was afraid the boat 
 would run against the wharf and break to 
 pieces. Now, you know, fog is damp—some¬ 
 times so damp that your clothes are wet with 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 161 
 
 it. This fog is a cloud that you have been in; 
 all clouds are nothing more nor less than fog. 
 This fog is floating in the air, and sometimes 
 rises very high—high enough to make ice; so 
 the fog freezes into fine ice—fine ice crystals. 
 These crystals are heavier than what is not 
 frozen, and they descend toward the earth and 
 unite with other crystals, and two are heavier 
 than one, and as they descend they unite with 
 others; and by the time they have passed 
 through the cloud, they have come to the size 
 we see them when they light on the earth. 
 
 “You have all seen, and felt, and handled 
 snow. Do you not think the falling snow one of 
 the most beautiful sights you ever looked at— 
 these light flakes, pure white, gently descend¬ 
 ing ? And when the storm is over, and the sun 
 is shining on the ground and houses with this 
 light covering of pure white, is it not beautiful ? 
 Yery beautiful.” Thus Mr. Curtis formed in 
 the children the habit of the observation of the 
 phenomena of Nature, and gently insinuated 
 into their minds a feeling of their beauty—an 
 
 L 
 
162 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 inestimable blessing. God gives alike to tbe 
 poor and rich, the ever-vaying spectacle of Na¬ 
 ture. Each day the world is adorned with pic¬ 
 tures from which the changing light brings out, 
 at every moment, a new form and a new beau¬ 
 ty. What a boon is conferred by educating 
 the eye to observe, and thus to minister to the 
 delicate sense of beauty! 
 
 After one day’s lesson, Mr. Curtis says to his * 
 class, gently condescending to their stage of 
 knowledge, “ Now have we not learned some¬ 
 thing to-day? What an easy matter it is to 
 learn! Yes, and an easy matter to forget what 
 we have learned; and that you may not forget, 
 you must talk about what you have learned 
 out of school. When you go home you must 
 tell your mother or some one else about it, and 
 if you have forgotten, come to me and I will 
 tell you over again. About a year ago Dr. 
 Samuel Mitchill, a very learned man, lived in 
 White Stre.et. He was a very remarkable man. 
 He read a great many books, and observed a 
 great many things; and he often said to his 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF HEW YORK. 163 
 
 friends that his much reading and thinking 
 would have done him little good if he had 
 not talked about them. ‘After I have told a 
 story,’ he said, ‘ I do not forget it.’ ” 
 
 It has been seen in the example of the “ cat” 
 how Mr. Curtis moulded a moral into his in¬ 
 struction. This he considered its leaven, and 
 it was truly a leaven, for it imparted vitality to 
 the whole lesson, and could not be dissociated 
 from it. It gave him the most serious concern 
 to observe how much, in all our schools, the 
 
 intellectual instruction was in advance of the 
 
 * 
 
 moral. “ These children understand thorough¬ 
 ly the rules of arithmetic,” he has been heard 
 to say when they were demonstrating their at¬ 
 tainments; “if their hearts were as well im¬ 
 pressed with the golden rule, what might they 
 not do for their generation!” 
 
 As on the teachers mainly depended the 
 prosperity of the schools, Mr. Curtis was a close 
 observer of them, and one who knew him well 
 
164 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 could pretty accurately graduate their deserts 
 by the grave demeanor or kindly smile with 
 which he greeted them. He reverenced the 
 office of a teacher as it deserves to be rever¬ 
 enced, and for no human dignity did he feel an 
 equal respect, whether the teacher were in the 
 pulpit or the school. Ho excellence in the 
 teachers of our Public Schools escaped his 
 watchful eye, nor a tribute from his grateful 
 heart; no error of commission or omission 
 passed unobserved. 
 
 It was a pleasure to accompany him in his 
 visits to the schools; there he was at home. 
 His greeting of the bright young women at the 
 desk was like the blessing of a father, ne had 
 the freedom of their recesses, and with a smile, 
 understood by all parties, he would open their 
 drawers, take out their record-books, and ex¬ 
 amine them. Hothing escaped him, and noth¬ 
 ing called forth such grave questions as the in¬ 
 fliction of corporal punishment. He surely had 
 a right to question its efficacy who had success¬ 
 fully governed the hardened subjects of the 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 165 
 
 House of Kefuge with rare and slight recourse 
 to it. It was permitted in the schools, but no 
 instance of its use that came under Mr. Curtis’s 
 cognizance passed without investigation and 
 comment. It was, he thought, the “short and 
 easy mode” for the teacher, but effected no per¬ 
 manent good to the pupil. It might produce 
 external obedience, but no amendment of the 
 heart. It was like cutting off the inconvenient 
 sprouts of a noxious weed without eradicating 
 its roots. 
 
 In Mr. Curtis’s opinion, female teachers were 
 to be preferred, without exception, for the Pri¬ 
 mary Schools for both sexes, and for all the 
 schools so soon as their education reached the 
 point of qualification for teaching the higher 
 classes. He believed their natural mental abil¬ 
 ity equal to that of the males, and their influ- 
 fluence on the morals and manners of the pu¬ 
 pils far superior. 
 
 “Women know the way to rear up children; 
 
 They know a simple, merry, tender knack; ” 
 
 a “knack” of softening with their gentler ele- 
 
166 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 ment the masculine roughness; a 11 knack” at 
 detecting and developing the feelings, at mould¬ 
 ing the temper, and anticipating the wants of 
 children. This knack springs from the in¬ 
 stinct of maternal love, the quickening princi¬ 
 ple, the all-embracing force. 
 
 In support of Mr. Curtis’s opinion on this 
 important subject, it must be remembered that 
 the children of our Public Schools come, for 
 the most part, from coarse homes and vulgar 
 associates, from fireside disputes and street- 
 fights, and such need the example of female 
 refinement, and the patience of female detail to 
 tame and civilize them. They demand a far 
 different training from the unchristian fagging 
 and ring-fights that seem to be deemed essen¬ 
 tial to make men of the English aristocracy. 
 
 Mr. Curtis considered the disparity between 
 the salaries of male and female teachers an ob¬ 
 vious injustice. 
 
 We quote his opinions on these points as de¬ 
 serving the profoundest respect. No man had 
 a more acute observation or so much experience. 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 167 
 
 • 
 
 He was a wise man, and of the soundest judg¬ 
 ment. The following extracts from a letter 
 written by a gentleman (Mr. Seton) officially 
 connected with the Public Schools, for a long 
 series of years their superintendent, we insert, 
 as, besides its great interest, it more than sub¬ 
 stantiates all we claim for Mr. Curtis. u Seeing 
 is believing.” Mr. Seton has recorded, in the 
 generous spirit of friendship, what he saw and 
 knew. 
 
 “We miss,” says Mr. Seton, “his careful 
 hand, his useful counsels, and his cheerful 
 spirits. His activity was surprising, always 
 planning and effecting the comfort and wel¬ 
 fare of his fellow-men. Through life’s war¬ 
 fare I always saw him calm and tranquil; when 
 the least otherwise, it flowed from his earnest¬ 
 ness of spirit and zeal in the cause of educa¬ 
 tion. His humility would sometimes lead him 
 to deem himself ‘ deficient ,’ but he had peculiar 
 and fitting requisites to promote the progress 
 of primary education. His stores of knowl¬ 
 edge of little things, and treasury of common 
 
168 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 sense, and practical experience of tlie affairs of 
 life, gotten by liabits of close observation, with 
 a retentive memory, made him feel ready for 
 the work to which he gave so many years of 
 love and care. I forward you a single docu¬ 
 ment, one of many his diligent hand has vol¬ 
 untarily prepared. It is a report on the use 
 of the libraries of the Public Schools. It con¬ 
 tains more than ten thousand figures. The ex¬ 
 amination of the numerous papers from which 
 the items are obtained of course give great in¬ 
 crease of labor to the preparation of so com¬ 
 plete a statistic table. Such was prepared ev¬ 
 ery six months by the same hand, with patient 
 and untiring zeal.”* 
 
 * In addition to this laborious document, there were oth¬ 
 ers “prepared,” Mr. Seton says, “for many years by our 
 friend : accounts of fuel and of other supplies; of the com¬ 
 parative state of the schools at examination. These papers 
 were vastly beneficial as guides to future operations. He 
 had these papers of twelve years pasted together for a com¬ 
 parative view. A printed copy of all would have covered 
 ten feet by eight. The memorandums, the labor of his own 
 hand, were twice that size. It is a monster product of gen- 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 169 
 
 (This u statistic” was made from records kept 
 —at Mr. Curtis’s suggestion—-by each Public 
 School of the number of times each book was 
 drawn out and read during the term. This 
 was not only to test the acceptance of the books 
 by the young readers, and their preferences, 
 but the vigilance of the teachers over this im¬ 
 portant department of instruction.) “ His punc¬ 
 tuality was proverbial. No committee ever 
 waited for Aim, and he was always ready to 
 take the heaviest portion of the work. I have 
 known him to attend successive meetings for 
 twelve consecutive hours, from nine A.M. to 
 nine P. M., with no other refreshment than 
 bread and cheese. His humane endeavors to 
 lessen the amount of human suffering were con¬ 
 spicuous. He was ever contriving mechanical 
 improvements in furniture, etc., to promote 
 health, convenience, and comfort. We are in¬ 
 debted to him for many improvements in ven- 
 
 tle patience, of voluntary labor—a brave testimony of phi¬ 
 lanthropy.” And let it be always remembered that this 
 was, as Mr. Seton says, “voluntary” and unpaid labor. 
 
170 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 tilation and school furniture, always haying in 
 view the better physical training of the pupils. 
 He was ever thoughtful for the comfort and 
 safety of the little ones, seeing that fixtures 
 were well secured, and that there were balus¬ 
 ters every where to the stairways.* By his 
 advocacy and influence he greatly lessened the 
 amount of corporal punishment in the schools, 
 and succeeded in abolishing it for years in some 
 of them. That maternal , sympathies might be 
 with the children, and corporal punishment 
 lessened, he advocated and strongly urged, and 
 successfully, the introduction of female teach¬ 
 ers into the boys’ schools. 
 
 “In our Public Schools he was a member 
 of the Board and of the Executive Committee, 
 
 * Some years since a terrible accident occurred in one of 
 the Public Schools. There was a cry of fire and a panic in 
 a school-room. The children rushed out pellmell to the 
 stairway. A crazed rack of a banister, about which Mr. 
 Curtis had repeatedly remonstrated, gave way, and the 
 children were precipitated into the area below. Seventy 
 were killed, and many others mutilated. This was to Mr. 
 Curtis like a tragedy in his own family. 
 
/ 
 
 PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 171 
 
 and constantly serving on special committees, 
 and always kept faithfully in mind the ap¬ 
 pointed seasons requiring special attention in 
 the operations of the schools. His personal at¬ 
 tention was great, and his visits were numerous, 
 amounting, probably, to from ten to twelve 
 hundred a year. 
 
 “In the winter season he visited at early 
 hours, before school-opening, to detect any neg¬ 
 lect of duty in preparing for the reception of 
 the pupils by proper warmth, ventilation, and 
 cleanliness. His care and diligence amounted 
 to drudgery; want of fuel, a broken lock or 
 pane of glass, or clearing off of snow, were 
 promptly and personally directed and attended 
 to. He entered into the service with heart and 
 mind, always watchful for the personal welfare 
 and moral interests of pupils and teachers. 
 
 “In his little talks and addresses to the 
 schools he promoted good manners, kind feel¬ 
 ings, and every good habit. The influence of 
 his useful maxims and precepts will be long 
 traced among us.” 
 
/ 
 
 172 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 We can not fear wearying onr readers by re¬ 
 iterating the testimony to Mr. Curtis’s thorough 
 work. “There were each year,” says Miss 
 Curtis, “semiannual examinations of the Pub¬ 
 lic Schools, requiring from five to six weeks 
 each, occupying from four to five days each 
 week, and no less than six hours each day. 
 My father scrupulously arranged his business 
 so as to attend every school examination. He 
 was chairman of Primary Schools, and of the 
 stove and fuel committee.” 
 
 In order to secure as much economy as could 
 be attained in the consumption of fuel, he re¬ 
 quired returns from each teacher of the amount 
 used, and from these graduated the quantity re¬ 
 quired. “My father,” says Miss Curtis, “was 
 always busy about some school matter, and 
 never tired. The day his name is not register¬ 
 ed in some one of the trustees’ visiting-books 
 would be worthy of note. Every Evening 
 School was visited in order and addressed by 
 him. He performed this duty up to the even¬ 
 ing preceding his last illness” (six days before 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 173 
 
 his death). “I sometimes remonstrated. He 
 would answer, 1 1 feel equal to it now; I may 
 not another time.’ He always worked, lest the 
 night should find him with duties unperform¬ 
 ed. His services (she continues, in answer to 
 an inquiry in that regard) were not only gra¬ 
 tuitous, but cost him many dollars. He never 
 had even his stationery from the society. I 
 am glad he used his money liberally among 
 schools and teachers. I have found several 
 memorandums of five, ten, twenty dollars ‘ loan¬ 
 ed to Miss So-and-so, because salary this year 
 is small.’ Some were never repaid.” 
 
 It was well said by one who did not speak 
 without reckoning, “ More than a million chil¬ 
 dren have known and loved Joseph Curtis. 
 What a crowd of witnesses to the worth of 
 any man!” 
 
 The services he rendered to the city of New 
 York are inestimable, and illimitable in their 
 consequences, and yet how few among our 
 richest, and greatest, and “first citizens” (so 
 styled) thanked him for them, or were even 
 
174 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 aware of them. “Was he so long time with 
 you. (we say it without irreverence), and yet ye 
 have not known him?” This old man, nobler 
 in his purposes, and more successful in their 
 execution than the general who leads an army 
 to victory, or the eloquent statesman who com¬ 
 mands, for his brief hour, the eye and ear of 
 thousands, issued daily from the vineyards of 
 his Lord, and quietly passed along the crowded 
 street unheralded, unnoticed, except perhaps 
 by some luckless child, whom he would take 
 up in his arms and comfort, or some little 
 brawlers whom he reconciled. 
 
 But he neither sought nor desired notoriety 
 or glorification. If a crown were decreed to 
 him, he would have hidden it under an impen¬ 
 etrable veil of modesty. His place of recom¬ 
 pense is with the Howards and the Oberlyns, 
 and his reward shall be from Him who knows 
 “ his works, and charity, and service, and faith, 
 and patience.” 
 
 We have made but a frail and simple record 
 of Joseph Curtis’s worth. The parents of our 
 
PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF NEW YORK. 175 
 
 city should erect an enduring memorial to him 
 —a statue in marble or bronze—to which the 
 grateful children of his care should point, and, 
 reiterating their own words, say, u Do you Jcnow 
 him t I do” 
 
176 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CLOSE OF LIFE. 
 
 “And the end thereof is peace.” 
 
 Mr. Curtis’s diligence and skill in his busi¬ 
 ness affairs, and the system and order with 
 which he arranged all his life, saved a great 
 amount of time, and allowed him to indulge in 
 his favorite pleasures. First and foremost of 
 these was his devotion to the Public Schools. 
 In this luxury he indulged: this was the fill¬ 
 ing up of his life—of all that was not of neces¬ 
 sity devoted to gaining the grosser elements by 
 which the mortal nature is sustained. 
 
 After the dissolution of the house in John 
 Street, he was employed for two or three years 
 in building “Avery’s Rotary Steam-engines,” 
 ^ind introducing them into use. 
 
 After this he held a respectable station in 
 
CLOSE OF LIFE. 
 
 177 
 
 the Custom House.* His last business, in the 
 common acceptation of that term, was as “In¬ 
 spector of Steam-boats and Boilers.” 
 
 Mr. Curtis’s natural taste for mechanics (we 
 quote from Dr. Bellows’s sermon), and the 
 knowledge of steam he had perfected in the 
 Allaire Works, made him a natural candidate 
 for this office, created by an act of 1847. This 
 office he filled with fidelity and success. His 
 knowledge, and his interest in every thing con¬ 
 nected with the progress, safety, comfort, and 
 pride of steam navigation, made him the com¬ 
 panion, friend, and adviser of all persons in the 
 neighborhood connected with that business. 
 
 The labor and discomforts of this business 
 required all Mr. Curtis’s elasticity and perse- 
 
 * In this connection we are happy to note a rare excep¬ 
 tion to the common course of politicians and office-holders. 
 The late Edward Curtis, Esq. (not a relative or even an 
 acquaintance of Joseph Curtis), then collector, appointed 
 him to this office upon the statement of a mutual friend of 
 his qualifications and desert, accompanied with the confes¬ 
 sion that he had no political claim, and was never a partisan 
 of any party. 
 
 M 
 
178 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 verance, and would have daunted, fit the age of 
 sixty-seven, a spirit less brave and patient than 
 his. He retained it for six years, and thorough¬ 
 ly performed its duties. He might be seen, at 
 given hours of every day, invested in his In¬ 
 dia-rubber dress, equipped for the work, enter¬ 
 ing the interior of boilers. But this was not the 
 hardest part of his work. In the beginning he 
 had to contend with the jealousies and mean 
 cavils of steam-boat proprietors and command¬ 
 ers. They had been too long accustomed to 
 using steam without a scrupulous regard to the 
 capacity of their vessels to brook interference 
 and control, even though authorized by legis¬ 
 lative enactment; and at first, insults and in¬ 
 juries were heaped upon our patient friend, 
 but his inflexible justice, his firmness and gen¬ 
 tleness, obtained for him the complete mastery. 
 His good overcame their evil; and we have 
 heard him say, “They are all friendly to me 
 now that they know I mean only to do my 
 duty, and that I will do that .” 
 
 Though he never complained of this disa- 
 
CLOSE OF LIFE. 
 
 179 
 
 \ 
 
 greeable labor, and, so far from shrinking from 
 it, performed it with alacrity, always doing 
 more than was required of him, yet, when he 
 was released from it in 1853, he enjoyed his 
 emancipation. The last three years of his life 
 were a holiday, filled with occupation for his 
 darling object, the schools. But this occupa¬ 
 tion, though we believe it laid up much treas- v 
 ure for him in Heaven, gave no money return. 
 
 Mr. Curtis’s only son had just returned from 
 California with a large fortune, acquired by his 
 intelligent industry in the important business 
 of assaying. His well-known liberality in all 
 the relations of life was, toward his father, stim¬ 
 ulated by filial fidelity, love, and reverence, 
 and he wished at once to make pecuniary ar¬ 
 rangements that would place him beyond the 
 casualties of life; but the old man was a 
 Spartan in his simplicity and in his love of in¬ 
 dependence, and he insisted upon such an ar¬ 
 rangement of his small means as to ultimately 
 secure to his son a complete indemnification 
 for all the advances made for him; and we 
 
180 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 know that it was a pleasant thought to him on 
 his death-bed that he owed no man, not even 
 the dear son who would have delighted to 
 share his prosperity with him. 
 
 The succeeding years were a beautiful twi¬ 
 light to his long serene day; and as in the nat¬ 
 ural twilight the flowers exhale delicious odors, 
 so was his passing day made sweet by the fruits 
 of his life; and as for the future, his hopes 
 were anchored on the sure promises of God. 
 
 He was quite free from the repinings and 
 petulance of old age: they arise partly from 
 the uncomfortable consciousness of decaying 
 powers, but more from well-grounded self-dis¬ 
 satisfactions. 
 
 Joseph Curtis never boasted, never even ex¬ 
 pressed self-approval, but he enjoyed the peace 
 of the faithful man. If he had any qualities 
 conspicuous above his other virtues, they were 
 his modesty and humility. They were the 
 more striking, not being, par excellence , the 
 graces of philanthropists. They live in the 
 world’s eye, and are pampered by its praise, 
 
CLOSE OF LIFE. 
 
 181 
 
 and their weakness is at the point of vanity 
 and vainglory. After a long and intimate in¬ 
 tercourse with him, we can say that we never 
 heard him boast of any thing he had done, or 
 even advert to his sacrifices for the Manumis¬ 
 sion Society, to his great work at the House 
 of Refuge, to his care of his apprentices, to his 
 devotion to the schools, or to any one or all 
 of his good deeds as reflecting any merit on 
 himself, and no man recognized with a more 
 generous appreciation the well-doing of oth¬ 
 ers. He not only did not seek renown, but 
 he avoided notoriety. He was quiet in all his 
 ways. His good works were as silently per¬ 
 formed as the underground processes of Na¬ 
 ture, and as beneficent as the dews of heaven. 
 We believe there are few of his fellow-citi¬ 
 zens that are aware how much they owe to 
 him of the improvements in their sewerage, 
 their fire department,* and the ventilation of 
 
 * “He invented the trap that is the plumbers’ great 
 agent in keeping nauseous fumes from our domestic waste- 
 pipes and public sewers. He invented and carried the first 
 
182 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 their public buildings. And who shall reckon 
 the value of his services for the young? and 
 where is its limit? 
 
 Among his most intimate and dearest friends, 
 the friend of many years, was the benefactor of 
 our city, Peter Cooper. In a letter in relation 
 to Joseph Curtis he says, u I wish it was in my 
 power to give you a description of his untiring 
 devotion to all the great interests of humanity. 
 To do this, it would be necessary to follow him 
 through a life of efforts to aid almost every be¬ 
 nevolent enterprise calculated to elevate and 
 better the condition of the present, but more 
 particularly the rising generation. I regard 
 him as the best and truest pattern of a perfect 
 man that it has ever fallen to my lot to know.” 
 This is a fit concurrent testimony to the brief 
 history of his life. 
 
 torch that lighted firemen on their perilous way to the suc¬ 
 cor of burning homes. He was engaged almost to the last 
 hour of his life in devising a method, which bids fair to be 
 successful, for curing the inhuman slipperiness of our Russ 
 pavement, whose cruelty to beasts had moved his tender 
 heart.”— Dr. Bellows’s Sermon. 
 
CLOSE OF LIFE. 
 
 183 
 
 Soon after his release from business, Mr. Cur¬ 
 tis celebrated his “golden wedding,” the fifti¬ 
 eth anniversary of his marriage. This ob¬ 
 servance, which has now become common 
 among us, was first introduced by a passage in 
 one of Miss Bremer’s popular novels describing 
 this celebration, which is a sort of institution in 
 Germany. Never was it observed under more 
 fitting auspices than in Mr. Curtis’s house. 
 Both he and his bride of fifty years were in the 
 very excellence and beauty of old age. The 
 unstinted vows of their bridal-day had been 
 faithfully kept. Their children and grand¬ 
 children “arose up and called them blessed;” 
 brothers and sisters were still alive to greet 
 them; grateful nephews and nieces, to the 
 number of forty, and unnumbered friends, 
 were gathered around them, with wreaths and 
 bouquets of white, spotless flowers, the fitting 
 emblems of their lives; and their beloved pas¬ 
 tor was with them to offer his prayers and 
 thanksgiving. The rays of Divine acceptance 
 seemed falling on* human lives. 
 
184 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 The following lines were found with Mr. 
 Curtis’s will. Miss Curtis says her father had 
 no habit of versification, and probably adopted 
 them from their consonance to his state of 
 mind. They are artless lines, and, we are in¬ 
 clined to believe, were composed by himself. 
 
 i 
 
 They not only express his views of life’s work, 
 but all who have read our memoir will see 
 that his life was a verification of their prayer. 
 
 “Let me not die before I’ve done for Thee 
 
 My earthly work, whatever it may be ; 
 
 Call me not hence with mission unfulfilled; 
 
 Let me not leave my space of ground untilled. 
 
 Impress this truth upon me, that not one 
 
 Can do my portion that I leave undone; 
 
 For each one in Thy vineyards hath a spot 
 
 To labor in for life, and weary not. 
 
 Then give me strength all faithfully to toil, 
 
 Converting barren earth to fruitful soil. 
 
 Yet most I want a spirit of content , 
 
 To work where’er thou’lt wish my labor spent. 
 
 I want a spirit passive, to be still, 
 
 And by Thy power to do Thy holy will. 
 
 Oh, make me useful in this world of thine, 
 
 _ • 
 
 In ways according to Thy will, not mine.” 
 
CLOSE OF LIFE. 
 
 185 
 
 The prayer granted and the work done, it 
 was time for the faithful servant to pass on to 
 a higher service. 
 
 On Monday morning, April 6th, 1856, the 
 last time Mr. Curtis left his house, he went to 
 see the launch of the Adriatic. It is pleasant 
 to remember, as a proof of the continued en¬ 
 joyment of his life to its latest period, how 
 cheerfully and gratefully he spoke to the writer 
 of this memoir (whom he visited on his way to 
 the launch) of his perfect health. I may be 
 permitted, also, without wounding the modesty 
 of the living, to record here the last expression 
 I heard from him. It is the due of filial piety. 
 He turned after he got to the door, and said, 
 
 “ I want to tell you what a blessing-(his 
 
 single daughter) is to me;” his face was all 
 aglow. “She is every thing I could ask— 
 more, every thing I could desire.” No daugh¬ 
 ter can be much pitied for what she misses 
 who thus remains “the angel of her father’s 
 house.”* 
 
 * Let no one imagine that if this daughter was “loved 
 
186 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS, 
 
 Mr. Curtis had an enjoyment in the success 
 of steam navigation akin to personal gratifica¬ 
 tion. He was an early friend of Robert Ful¬ 
 ton, and had adhered to him, and steadily be¬ 
 lieved in his success, when his projects were 
 derided as schemes by those who believe only 
 in what has been—the loyal adherents to the 
 past. The launch of a fine steamer was a ju¬ 
 bilee to him—like going to the wedding of a 
 friend. The launch of the Adriatic was his 
 last jubilee in this world. 
 
 He returned from it severely ill with what 
 seemed an acute disease, from which he might 
 be soon relieved by medical skill. On Tues¬ 
 day he was partially relieved, and on Wednes¬ 
 day he alone of all his family knew the disease 
 was not removed. That night he talked inces¬ 
 santly in his dreams. His imaginings were 
 characteristic. He was in the schools address¬ 
 ing the teachers and talking to the children. 
 Occasionally awaking, and looking up benignly 
 
 more,” the others were “loved less.” Hers was an undi¬ 
 vided duty. 
 
CLOSE OF LIFE. 
 
 187 
 
 to the faithful child who was watching every 
 breath he drew, he would say, “Well, I have 
 been dreaming very pleasantly. Do go to bed, 
 my daughter.” On Thursday, though he seem¬ 
 ed better, he detected on the faces of his friends 
 their continued anxiety. “Daughter,” he said 
 to Miss Curtis, “you are anxious.” She tried 
 to evade the truth. “ I know you are,” he per¬ 
 sisted; “now, my child, be quiet. If God calls 
 me, I am ready. You will take care of moth¬ 
 er ; we shall all soon meet again.” 
 
 After this he was delirious at intervals, but 
 even in his delirium he was himself—reasona¬ 
 ble, dignified, and gentle. . Once his daughter 
 found it necessary to restrain him. “You 
 must not , father,” she said. He fixed his eye 
 on her with an expression of calm rebuke, and 
 said, “Do you know to whom you are speak¬ 
 ing? Are you not ashamed, my daughter?” 
 Miss Curtis, in relating this, said, “ I was 
 ashamed;” so stringent was the love by which 
 he governed, so spontaneous her submission to 
 his authority, so instinctive her reverence for 
 
188 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 him. Even in his wanderings, during the two 
 last days of his illness, he manifested his char¬ 
 acteristic candor and self-control. The fixtures 
 in his room appeared to him disturbed and in 
 violent motion; and when told they did not 
 move, he said, u Put a pin below that picture, 
 and see if it does not push it down.” The pin 
 was placed. He watched it, saw it did not 
 move, and said at once, “ I give it up; I see 
 something is wrong here,” putting his hand to 
 his head. A powerful narcotic, on Thursday 
 night, procured for him a long sleep, and he 
 awoke on Friday morning with his head clear 
 and his spirit calm. He looked around him 
 
 » 
 
 with a smile. A faithful servant could not 
 ask for other or happier circumstances in which 
 to close the day of his earthly labor, and pass 
 the threshold into his Father’s house. He was 
 in his own home, a home sanctified by domes¬ 
 tic love and peace, and the heart’s daily wor¬ 
 ship of the true God. The wife of his youth, 
 the loved and honored companion of his life¬ 
 time, was beside him. nis only son, his son’s 
 
CLOSE OF LIFE. 
 
 189 
 
 wife, all his daughters, were gathered about 
 him, banded together bj filial and mutual love. 
 He looked around with a radiant smile. “ Dear 
 mother, you here?” he said; “and you? and 
 you?” he continued, tenderly pronouncing the 
 name of each. “ This is a blessing; and in my 
 own room, too. God is good. Why, my be¬ 
 loved, are you weeping?” They replied by 
 expressing their joy that he was better. “Yes, 
 children, I feel well,” he said; “but what mat¬ 
 ters it if I go home soon, surrounded by so 
 many dear ones?” They were alarmed by his 
 weakness, and begged him to be quiet. He 
 knew that his time was nearly out, and replied, 
 “ Let me talk, and tell you Heaven is love; and 
 here is love; if I go, will you not love one 
 another?” 
 
 “Yes, dear father,” was the reply; “ but will 
 you not stay with us?” 
 
 “Perhaps so, children; but I am ready, if 
 God wills.”. 
 
 One of his dear friends, a child of his heart’s 
 
 • • 
 
 adoption, watched with him the following night 
 
190 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 —the last night. Mr. Curtis said to him, “If 
 I should never rise from this bed, remember 
 that I loved you. I know you will have a 
 care for those I leave. I feel no sorrow in 
 dying but the grief it will give my children. 
 I believe in Grod; His promise is sure.” 
 
 After this his mind occasionally wandered, 
 but his mental eye was fixed on the light that 
 beamed from his Father’s house. He repeated 
 texts fraught with promise and love, such as, 
 “In my Father’s house are many mansions,” 
 etc.; “ Feed my sheep“ Little children, love 
 one another.” 
 
 On Saturday he recognized each member of 
 his family. To his physician he said, “You 
 have done all you can; I am satisfiedand to 
 his children he reiterated the simple declara¬ 
 tions of his love, and his last tender care for 
 them. “ My children, will you love one anoth¬ 
 er ? I leave you only love. 
 
 “You may be asked, my children,” he said, 
 “ what sect your father was of. Tell them I 
 was of no sect, and that my religion may be 
 
CLOSE OF LIFE. 
 
 191 
 
 found in the eighth verse of the sixth chapter 
 of Micah.” He then repeated the words in a 
 low but unfaltering tone: “ ‘ He hath - shown 
 thee, 0 man, what is good; and what doth the 
 Lord require of thee but to do justly, and to 
 love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy 
 God?’ I have fallen short,” he added, “but 
 I have faith to hope all will be forgiven.” At 
 nine o’clock on the evening of that Saturday 
 his spirit passed on. 
 
 “I heard a voice saying, ‘Well done, good 
 and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of 
 thy Lord.’ ” 
 
 As this memoir of Joseph Curtis has been 
 written mainly to preserve him in the grateful 
 remembrance of the children he loved and 
 taught, and to impress his example upon them, 
 we wish specially to call their attention to those 
 qualities that formed the broad foundation of 
 his useful life. They are attainable by all. 
 
 He was docile, obedient, and reverent in his 
 
192 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 childhood; modest and diligent in his youth; 
 self-denying; always frugal in his expenses; 
 at every period of his worldly prosperity living 
 in a simply-furnished house, and dressing with 
 strict economy; both house and person adorned, 
 and adorned only with neatness. His habits 
 were temperate in eating and drinking, strictly 
 adjusted to the laws of health. 
 
 Strict truth requires that we make one ex¬ 
 ception to this statement. In Mr. Curtis’s youth 
 chewing tobacco was almost without exception 
 the habit of his cotemporaries, and he acquired 
 it; and, though he used it with extreme mod¬ 
 eration, he all his life bitterly lamented its mas¬ 
 tery over him. His own experience made him 
 more earnestly protest against it. He never 
 justified, or in any way excused it. He look¬ 
 ed upon tobacco in all its shapes as an expen¬ 
 sive superfluity, and as an “unclean thing.” 
 He warned the schoolboys against it as stimu¬ 
 lating the appetite for strong drink, and he la¬ 
 mented, as a misfortune, the countenance given 
 to it by the example of some of the teachers. 
 
CLOSE OF LIFE. 
 
 193 
 
 All characters have some peculiarities. Mr. 
 Curtis’s young friends may ask, “What were 
 his?” “His most striking peculiarity,” his 
 pastor well said, “ was, that his religious charac¬ 
 ter was his whole character. He had no views 
 which he called religious views, no duties he 
 called his religious duties, no opinions he call¬ 
 ed his religious opinions. All his views, du¬ 
 ties, and opinions were religious. His whole 
 character was devout — God-fearing, God-lov- 
 mg. 
 
 Joseph Curtis never, in the technical sense, 
 “ belonged to a church.” It is probable, from 
 his long attendance with his wife upon the 
 worship of the Friends, and his attachment to 
 Elias Hicks, that he imbibed their belief in re¬ 
 gard to the sacraments. We can not other¬ 
 wise account for his non-observance of the last 
 request of the Master, an omission exceptional 
 to his whole character. On the last Sunday 
 of his life he attended church, as was his uni¬ 
 form custom. There was a communion service, 
 
 N 
 
¥ 
 
 194 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 and as lie rose to leave tlie church, his daugh¬ 
 ter, oppressed with the unfitness of his going 
 away while she remained to participate the 
 privilege, said imploringly, “ Why not stay, fa¬ 
 ther ?” “ It is not for me,” he replied; “ I do 
 
 not require it. To my understanding, I shall 
 eat with Him in my Father’s kingdom.” 
 
 Mr. Curtis worshiped with the Friends till 
 he became acquainted with Dr. Dewey’s preach¬ 
 ing. That met his wants, and was his Sunday’s 
 feast; and from the first time he heard him till 
 Dr. Dewey left his pulpit in New York, we 
 believe he never failed to be in his place in the 
 church of his pastor and friend, for Dr. Dewey 
 soon became his friend, and their friendship, as 
 all true friendships do, grew by what it fed on 
 —mutual respect and affection. In confirma¬ 
 tion of this, I am permitted to quote some pas¬ 
 sages in a letter I received from my friend Dr. 
 Dewey after Mr. Curtis’s death. 
 
 “ Is there not,” he says, “ something in a 
 man’s chosen pursuits, his surroundings, the 
 beings he loves and lives among, that is reflect' 
 
CLOSE OF LIFE. 
 
 195 
 
 ed in his countenance? for it seems as if the 
 very guilelessness, innocence, and modesty of 
 childhood were reflected in the face of our 
 friend; and it seems, too, as if his unobtrusive¬ 
 ness naturally sought that sphere. Down 
 among the schools, among the children, he 
 could work, and the public need not know or 
 praise it. ‘ Public!’ the word was out of his 
 vocabulary; and yet, if it was down, he knew 
 that it was down qjnong the foundations. His 
 penetrating, practical understanding of things 
 saw that the hope of society lay in the care 
 and training of its children. 
 
 “ There he took hold. For many years he 
 spent half of his time in unpaid and unofficial 
 labors among the common schools. It was 
 very interesting to visit them in his company, 
 not on ‘examination day,’ but any day. He 
 was quite as much at home in them as the 
 teachers. He knew every child, I think, and 
 every child seemed to know him. If each 
 school had been his own family, he could hard¬ 
 ly have taken more pride or pleasure in it. 
 
196 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 He used to ask me to go and see one of them 
 as another man would a gallery of pictures. 
 Well might he take pride and delight in them. 
 During those years the common schools of 
 New York made unexampled progress, coming 
 up with, if not going beyond, Boston itself. 
 
 “I would point to this part of Mr. Curtis’s 
 life because of its very unobtrusiveness. It is 
 well that society should be reminded of how 
 much is done for it that .lies out of sight. 
 There is an immense deal of labor to be done 
 by somebody, and that in more than one de¬ 
 partment, as you are well aware, of which the 
 world knows little or nothing; but, though the 
 true philanthropist does not care to have his 
 work known, yet the world should know and 
 honor it. Philanthropist, I say, and yet I hes¬ 
 itate to apply the title to him. Certainly no 
 man ever had less the air about him of pro¬ 
 fessional philanthropy, or less of a too common 
 extravagance and one-sidedness. 
 
 “ I remember meeting him one morning in 
 company, and of the party was a gentleman 
 
197 
 
 * 
 
 CLOSE OF LIFE. 
 
 professing something of this character, perhaps, 
 and who made the observation that the most 
 of the distress of the poor and suffering classes 
 was owing to the injustice and neglect of those 
 above them. I said in reply, ‘ Here is Mr. Jo¬ 
 seph Curtis, who has walked the streets of 
 New York on errands—well, he will not let 
 me say on good errands—for twenty years be¬ 
 fore ever you or I stepped upon them: let us 
 hear what he says.’ It was amid considerable 
 philanthropic impatience on the other side that 
 I contrived by a series of questions to extract 
 from Mr. Curtis the opinions, successively, 
 
 ‘ That the distress of the poor was not owing 
 to the rich—that it was owing mainly to them¬ 
 selves ; that forty-nine fiftieths of all the poor 
 distressed families in the city might, with due 
 exertion and care on the part of all their mem¬ 
 bers, have been free from debt and want, and 
 might always be so.’ 
 
 “What these annual rushes of charity for the 
 relief of the poor are doing to wear away the 
 very foundations of character in the lower 
 
198 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 strata of society deserves to be more carefully 
 considered than it bas been. 
 
 u ‘How do you get along ? 7 said a kind man . 
 to an idle banger-on upon tbe care of others. 
 
 “ ‘ Why, we finds it pretty bard now, when 
 winter is just beginning; but pretty soon, when 
 it gets colder, bless you! tbe trotters comes 
 along, and then we contrives to do very well . 7 
 I suppose tbe £ trotters 1 must come along till 
 society learns to walk in ways more conse¬ 
 crated to tbe welfare of all. But their well- 
 meant and perhaps necessary, but sadly imper¬ 
 fect mission, would be ended if all men of tbe 
 higher classes were like Joseph Curtis . 77 
 
 This suggestion of Dr. Dewey might be fol¬ 
 lowed out and supported if it were possible to 
 ascertain how many human beings have been 
 saved from destructive habits and final pover¬ 
 ty, and made self-depending and independent 
 men by the patient inculcations of Joseph Cur¬ 
 tis—“rule upon rule, and precept upon pre¬ 
 cept . 77 
 
 After Dr. Dewey’s removal, Mr. Curtis be¬ 
 came a member of Dr. Bellows’s congregation, 
 
CLOSE OF LIFE. 
 
 199 
 
 and how lie esteemed him his eloquent sermon 
 has told. 
 
 Though thus worshiping with Unitarians, 
 proud as we might be to claim him, our pride 
 would be our shame after his own profession 
 of faith. In the words of Micah, “What doth 
 the Lord require of thee but to do justly, to 
 love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy 
 God.” This was the text to this great and 
 good man’s whole life, and one might as well 
 expect the sunshine and rain of the universal 
 providence to fall on one little garden-spot as 
 to pen in the fold of any particular sect this 
 disciple of Christ, whom all sects must write 
 Christian. 
 
 We fitly close our memoir with the closing- 
 passage of Dr. Bellows’s sermon, to which an¬ 
 swered the moistened eyes of an immense con¬ 
 gregation, gathered to offer their tribute, not to 
 a political leader, not to a statesman, not to a 
 man of literary renown, but to “ one who loved 
 his fellow-men,” and showed his love by his 
 works. 
 
 “ Ah ! beloved and revered friend,” said Dr. 
 
200 MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. 
 
 Bellows, bending from bis desk oyer the coffin 
 tbat contained the remains of tbat friend, 
 “what have we to do but lay tby sacred dust 
 to rest? No more can we welcome tbee to 
 these seats of worship. Tby benignant face 
 can no more turn its sympathetic eyes up to 
 this altar. Tby white locks wave no longer 
 about tby bent shoulders. Tby pleasant voice 
 is bushed; tby friendly band is cold; but tby 
 heart beats still in the better world. Thou art 
 joined to tby Master, to the early companions 
 of tby usefulness, to the children thou bast led 
 in the way of duty and truth, and who in thou¬ 
 sands have gone before tbee to welcome tbee 
 to tby reward. Farewell! These lips have 
 committed no purer soul than thine to the 
 grave; and''told the story of no life more 
 worthy the imitation and respect of men, or 
 whose acceptance in Heaven is more fully se¬ 
 cured by Him who ‘went about doing good,’ 
 and who said, * Blessed are the pure in heart, 
 for they shall see God.’ ” 
 
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 delineation of manners decidedly the best that have appeared .—Prose 
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 EMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. A Model 
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 ) 
 
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 Nero. 
 
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 Henry the Fourth, 
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GAYLORD 
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 PRINTED IN U S A 
 
HV28 
 
 .C87S4 
 
 Sedgwick, G. M. 
 
 Boston College Library 
 
 Chestnut Hill, Mass. 02167 
 
 Books may be kept for two weeks unless a 
 shorter period is specified.