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FIRST CENTURY 
 
 OF 
 
 NATIONAL EXISTENCE; 
 
 THE LTIsTiTED STATES 
 
 THEY WERE AND ARE: 
 
 Tee progressive devklopmext of MTXERAL WKALTH, ixclc:ding not oniy thk precious ant) the uskftl metals, B(n 
 
 Coal, Petroleum, and the various Alkalies and Karths in usk : The PUBLIC UVXDS, their sales in each ts^ar 
 
 Land Grants to Koads, Railroads, State, and Educational Purposes, their rapid settlement, the formation of 
 
 States and Territories, founding of Cities and Commercial Centers : IXTERXAL TRADE ; I>DIKJRATIOX. 
 
 ITS INCREASING TIDE AND TRE REGIONS MOSTLY SOUGHT BY IMMIGRANTS : BANKING, ITS SUCCESSIVE SYSTEM! 
 
 AND changes: Firk, Life, Accidknt, AND other INSURAN'CE, with statistics; LITERATURE and 
 
 ACTHOKS : HOOKS, PERIODICALS, and NEWSPAPERS ; The FINE ARTS, Painting, Sculpture, 
 
 ARCHiTErrciiE, AND ENGRAVING; DOMESTIC LIFE, Dwellings, Furniture, Food, Costumes, 
 
 &c". ; TELEGRAPH; EDUCATION, Higher and Elementary, Libraries, Museums, and 
 
 Scientific Collections : BENEVOLENT and HUMANITARIAN INSTITUTIONS, &c. 
 
 AN APPENDIX, 
 
 The progress of all the RELIGIOUS DENOMINATIONS and SECTS, their prftLUR Doctrines and Ordinances, 
 their Forms of Church Government, Mode of Worship. &c.. &c. 
 
 THE whole carefully PREPARED BY 
 
 %n ^mhtJiit Corps of Sc'itntrfic ;tnb |i^itetarn ^fii. 
 
 Superbly illustrated with over Two Hundred and Twenty-Five Engravings, executed by the most accomplished Artists in the Countcy, 
 carefully printed from Steel Electrotypes and in Chromo- 
 
 ISold lOiiJ.y T^j'- »«j.l^fc»«2jrii^tloxi. 
 
 ^i^hc 
 
 HARTFORD. CONN.: a ' 
 FRANWS DKWINr;* & CO., SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. 
 
 1874. 
 

 EiitenJ, accoi'diug to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, hj- 
 
 L. STEBBINS, 
 
 hi tlie Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washinirton. 
 
4$l 
 
SUBJECTS AND AUTHORS. 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OP THE UNITED STATES, 
 
 Including Gold, Silver, Copper, Lead, Zinc, Iron, Coal, Petroleum, &c., showing the 
 Localities, Richness of Ores, Methods of Mining, Smelting, and applying the different 
 Minerals to practical uses, with their values, &c., &c. 
 
 FUR TRADE, various kinds and values of Furs. 
 
 Of the late Pennsylvania, and other Geological Surveys; Contributor to Apple- 
 ton's " New American Cyclopadia " on the same Subjects. 
 
 LAND, SETTLEMENT, INTERNAL TRADE. 
 
 Western Settlement, Population, and Land Sales, Canals and Railroads, Expenditures, 
 Lake Cities, Reciprocity, Annual Sales of Land by the Government, River Cities, 
 Atlantic Cities, Date of Settlement, Population, Valuation, Manufactures, Exports, 
 Imports, Growth of New York, Express Business. 
 
 BANKS, UNITED STATES MINT, AND INSURANCE. 
 
 Bills of Credit, Government Issues, United Slates Bank, State Banks, Suffolk System. 
 Safety Fund, Banks, Free Banks, Number of Banks in Each State, Aggregate Capi- 
 tal, Clearing Houses, Private Banking, New National System, &c., Establishmeut 
 of Mint, Standard of Coins, Laws Regulating Coinage, Precious Metals in the Coun- 
 try, Insurance, — Fire, Marine, Life, Accident, &c. 
 
 EMIGRATION. 
 
 General Migrations. Colonies and United States, Number of Aliens arrived in the 
 United States from 1820 to 18i)G, and their Nationalities, Landing in New York, 
 Future Homes. 
 
 AUTHORS, BOOKS, NEWSPAPERS, BOOK-BINDING. 
 PRINTING PRESSES, TELEGRAPH. 
 
 Writers, — including Theologians, Statesmen, Novelists, Historians, — Short Sketches of 
 their Lives, their Literary Productions ; Newspapers, — Dailies, Weeklies, Periodicala, 
 Book Trade, Publishing, Jobbing, Retailing, Selling by Subscription, Book-Bind- 
 ing, Printing Presses, Telegraph. 
 
 By THOMAS P. KETTELL. 
 SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 Domestic Architecture, Furniture, Food, Dress, Social Culture, &c. 
 
 ByFREDERlCKB PERKINS. 
 
SUBJECTS AND AUTHORS. 
 
 ARTS OF DESIGN. 
 
 Painters, Sculptors, Engravers, &c. 
 
 By T. ADDISON RICHARDS, Artist, 
 Editor of Appleton's " Railway Guide,^' Correspondent of " Harper^» 
 
 Magazine." , 
 
 Progress of all the Religious Denominations, and Sects. 
 
 By Dr. L. P. BROCK ETT. 
 
 EDUCATION, 
 
 Including the History and Statistics of Free Schools, Common Schools, Grammar Schools, 
 Academies, Colleges, Professional Schools of Theology, Law, Medicine, War, Teacliing, 
 Engineering, Agriculture, Mechanics and Fine Arts ; with Special Schools for Deaf 
 Mutes, Blind, Idiots, Juvenile Criminals, and Orphans, and Supplementary Educational 
 Agencies and Libraries, Lyceums, Lectures, &c. 
 
 By HENRY BARNARD, LL. D., 
 
 Superintendent of Common Schools in Connecticut and Rhode Island ; Chan- 
 cellor of the Stale University of Wisconsin; and Editor of the 
 ^^^ American Journal of Education." 
 
 ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH, 
 
 Its Inventors, and Progress, 
 
 By GEORGE B. PRESCOTT. 
 Electrician of Western Union Telegraph Company. 
 
 FIRE INSURANCE, 
 
 Giving in a historical form the progress and growth of Fire Insurance in the United 
 States from the first organized Companies up to 1871, vv'ith valuable tables, showing 
 the magnitude of the business, rates, losses, profits, &c., 
 
 By D. A. HEALD, 
 
 Vice-President of the Home Fire Insurance Company of If. Y. 
 
 LIFE INSURANCE, 
 
 Showing the progress of the business under the Stock and Mutual principles, fi-om the 
 first organized Company up to 1871, with valuable tables allowing the irameusu 
 magnitude of the business, per centage, losses, profits, &c., 
 
 By JACOB L. GREENE, 
 
 Secretary Connecticut Mutual Life Insurance Company, Hartford, Cl. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY. 
 
 PAOE 
 
 Introductory Remarks 17 
 
 Iron Worka in Virginia previous to 1622 17 
 
 First Blast Furnace in 1702 17 
 
 Ikon 18 
 
 First Trial of Anthracite Coal for manufac- 
 
 facturing 18 
 
 Great Britian produces more than half of the 
 
 whole product of the world 19 
 
 Iron produced from 1828 to 1840 20 
 
 Materials employed in the Manufactube. . 20 
 Ore in Pennsylvania, llaryland, Tennessee, 
 
 New York, Canada, and Wisconsin 21 
 
 Consumption of Cliarcoal per Ton of Iron. . . 22 
 
 Quantities of Air used in Blast Furnaces 23 
 
 Furnaces in the Lehigh Valley 23 
 
 DlSTRIBLTION OF ORES 24 
 
 Ores in New Jersey 25 
 
 Ores in Pennsylvania 26 
 
 Great Chestnut Hill Ore-bed 27 
 
 Ores in Maryland 28 
 
 Ores in Southern States 28 
 
 Ores in Western States 29 
 
 Iron Mancfacture 32 
 
 Description of Blast Furnaces 32 
 
 ■Wrought Iron 36 
 
 puddlixq 31 
 
 List of RoUing MiUs in 1856 40 
 
 Mills making Railroad Iron in 1856 40 
 
 Boiler Plate and Sheet Iron Manufactories in 
 
 1856 41 
 
 Iron Wire 41 
 
 Nails 41 
 
 List of Nail Manufactories in 1856 42 
 
 Steel 43 
 
 Cast Steel 44 
 
 Table of Iron Works in operation ana aban- 
 doned in 1856 45 
 
 Production of Pig Iron 46 
 
 Distribution of Furnaces by States 46 
 
 Product of Wrought Iron 46 
 
 Value of the Iron product in 1856 47 
 
 Copper 48 
 
 New Jersey Mines 49 
 
 Tennessee Mines 50 
 
 Lake Superior Mines 51 
 
 Product of the Pittsburgh and Boston Com- 
 pany Mines from 1852 to 18G0 53 
 
 Minesota Company 55 
 
 Product of do from 1848 to 1860 56 
 
 Statistics of Lake Superior Mines 57 
 
 Copper Smelting 58 
 
 Useful Applications of Copper 60 
 
 Cost of Smelting Copper 60 
 
 Manufacture of Brass 62 
 
 Gold 63 
 
 Vermont Mines 64 
 
 Virginia do 64 
 
 North Carolina Mines 69 
 
 Georgia do 69 
 
 Pike's Peak do 10 
 
 California do 11 
 
 Australia do 71 
 
 Annual production of Gold in the World at 
 
 the time of its discovery in California. ... 11 
 Length and Cost of Artifieial Water-courses in 
 
 California V2 
 
 Quartz Mining 13 
 
 Table of annual productions of the Mines of 
 
 California from 1848 to 1851 13 
 
PAGE 
 
 Various Mach'nes for Mining purposes ... 74 
 Tables sliowing the amoimtof Gold coined by 
 
 the U.S. Government, and where produced 78-9 
 
 The uses of Gold 80 
 
 Lead , 81 
 
 Localilies of Mines 82 
 
 Iowa Mines 81 
 
 Table showing tlie shipments of Lead from 
 
 the Upper Mississippi from 1821 to 1841. 85 
 Table shoft-ing the prodnction and importa- 
 tion of Lead from 1832 to 1858 87 
 
 Lead Smelting 87 
 
 Useful Applications or Lead 91 
 
 Lead Pipe 91 
 
 Shot and Bnllets. 92 
 
 American process of making Shot, 93 
 
 ■White Lead 94 
 
 List of American White Lead Works 9ij 
 
 Zinc 90 
 
 New Jersey Mines 9G 
 
 Penn.sylvania do 97 
 
 Metallurgic Treat-ment and Uses 98 
 
 European Manufacture 10(1 
 
 List of the Silesian Company Works 102 
 
 Schedule of tlio cost of Zinc Ore ou ship- 
 board at Antwerp lO:! 
 
 Z;no Paint lO.T 
 
 Description of Manufacture 104 
 
 Platinum 107 
 
 Iridium and Osmium 110 
 
 Mercury 110 
 
 California Mines Ill 
 
 Almaden Mine in Spain Ill 
 
 Total annual production of various Mines. . Ill 
 
 Metallurgic Treatment lit 
 
 Useful Applications of Mercury 114 
 
 Silver 115 
 
 Cobalt 1 1 G 
 
 Nickel 117 
 
 Chrome or Ciiromicm. . . lis 
 
 Manganese 119 
 
 Tin 119 
 
 Coal 120 
 
 Varieties of Coal 121 
 
 Relative value of different kinds of Coal. . . 124 
 Geological and GEOORAPniCAL Distribution 
 
 OF Coal 124 
 
 Amount of Availadlb Coal 133 
 
 Extent of Coal Fields in different States 133 
 
 Relative amount of Coal Fields of Europe 
 
 and America 1 34 
 
 Table showing annual amount of Lead pro- 
 duced in Pennsylvania and Maryland from 
 
 1820tol8aO 134 
 
 pa(;h 
 
 Transportation of Coal to Market 135 
 
 Table of Railroads and Canals constructed 
 for Iransporling Coal 142 
 
 Useful Applications of Coal 146 
 
 Illuminating Gas 147 
 
 List of Gas Co.'s, with amount of Capital,4c. 148 
 Process of making Gas 152 
 
 Gas fob Steamboats and Railroad Caes. . . 156 
 
 Hydrocarbon or Coal Oils 156 
 
 Table of Coal Oil Works in the Uuiled States 157 
 History and method of manufacture 158 
 
 Petroleum or Sock Oil 163 
 
 Petroleum in the United States 164 
 
 Daily yield of seventy-four Oil Wells 165 
 
 List of Petroleum Refining works 170 
 
 Land Settlement, Internal Trade 169 
 
 Land Sales in Ohio 170 
 
 Canals in the West 172 
 
 First Locomotive built in this Country 174 
 
 Population (iI'Land States in 1830 and in 1860 175 
 Detroit and Chicago 177 
 
 River Cities, Atlantic Cities 180 
 
 Statistics of New Orleans 182 
 
 New York, Telegraph, Gold 185 
 
 Comparative E.xports of the Atlantic Cities 187 
 
 Harnden E xpress 188 
 
 Growth of New York 190 
 
 Bulls and Bears 195 
 
 Hotels in New York 197 
 
 BANKS IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Bills of Credit 198 
 
 Congress Issues, $358,465,000 199 
 
 Ten Thousand Dollars for a Cocked Hat . . . 19'9 
 
 First Bank of the United States 201 
 
 One Hundred and Twenty Banks go into ope- 
 ration in four years 201 
 
 Tahle of relative growth of Banks 203 
 
 Table of Number of Banks, and Capital. . . 204 
 
 Bauks Located in New York 204 
 
 Alabama with Carolina, do 208 
 
 Clearing House System 209 
 
 Tabic of Capital of all Banks 209 
 
 UNITED STATES MINT. 
 
 Establishment of the Mint, Standard of 
 
 Coin, kc 212 
 
 Value of the Dollar and the Pound Sterling 
 
 in Colonial Paper Money 213 
 
 Alloy of Gold Coin 214 
 
 United States Coinage 214 
 
 California Gold 215 
 
 Weight of Silver Coin 216 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 xni 
 
 Amount of New Silver Coin 216 
 
 Deposit of Domestic Gold at United States 
 
 Mint and Branches 216 
 
 Amount of Specie in 1821 217 
 
 INSURANCE. 
 
 Fire, Marine, and Life 219 
 
 Number and Capital of New York Companies 222 
 Capital, Premiums, and Risks of the Fire Com- 
 panies of the United States 223 
 
 Marine Insurance 224 
 
 Life Insurance 225 
 
 Comparative Rates of Domestic Life Insurance 22G 
 
 IMMIGRATION. 
 
 General Migration 228 
 
 Colonies of the United States 228 
 
 Early Immigration 229 
 
 Naturalization Laws 230 
 
 Number of Immigrants for the last forty 
 years, with their Birth-places 231 
 
 Europea.v Migration — French and German. 232 
 
 Decrease in Population of Ireland 235 
 
 Allowance on Passage 236 
 
 Saving part of the Passage Money 239 
 
 Landing in New York — Future Homes 240 
 
 Table of Immigration 240 
 
 Location of Immigrants in the United States 242 
 Amount of Money received in the United 
 
 States by Immigrants 243 
 
 Amount of Money remitted by Friends in 
 
 aid of Immigration 243 
 
 Number of Natives arriving from abroad . . . 244 
 
 SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 Introduction 245 
 
 Domestic Architecture 245 
 
 Description of Buildings 246 
 
 Houses South 247 
 
 Introduction of Anthracite Coal 248 
 
 Nott's Stoves 248 
 
 Furniture, Furnishing Goods, &c 249 
 
 China, Glass, Silver Forks, &c 251 
 
 Food, Cooking, &,c 252 
 
 Cooking Stoves 253 
 
 Dress 253 
 
 Social and Mental Culture 259 
 
 BOOKS. 
 
 Book Trade, Publishing, Ac 262 
 
 First Booksellers in .\merica 263 I 
 
 American Bible Society 264 j 
 
 rAQS 
 
 Harper and Brothers, Appletons 264 
 
 Number of Book Publishers in the United 
 
 States 265 
 
 Gift-Book Sales 265 
 
 Sale of Old Books 266 
 
 Subscription Sales 267 
 
 Circulation of Popular Works 267 
 
 School Book Trade 268 
 
 Reprints and American Books 269 
 
 Book Binding 269 
 
 Books of Wood and Metal 272 
 
 Description of Binding 273 
 
 Writers op America 274 
 
 Theologians, Statesmen, Novelists, Histo- 
 rians 274 
 
 Early Founders of the Colony Good Wri- 
 ters 274 
 
 Works of James Madison 275 
 
 Judge Marshall, Story, Wheaton, John Quincy 
 
 Adams, and others 276 
 
 Cooper, Hawthorne, Willis 279-280 
 
 Prescott and Bancroft 284 
 
 Lady Authors 285 
 
 Printing Press 286 
 
 Franklin's Press 286 
 
 Hoe and Adams Presses 297 
 
 Types 298 
 
 Machines for Casting Types 298 
 
 Stereotype, Electrotype 300 
 
 Newspapers 301 
 
 City Papers 303 
 
 Number of Papers in the United States. . . . 307 
 
 Telegraph — Origin 308 
 
 Morse, House, and Hughes Machines 311 
 
 First Lines 313 
 
 Various Lines and Companies 313 
 
 Penalty for refusing to transmit Messages. . 314 
 Comparison between Telegraphs and Couriers 315 
 
 THE ARTS OP DESIGN IN AMERICA. 
 
 Horace Walpole 316 
 
 American Art begins with Benjamin West.. 317 
 
 Stuart, Robert Fulton 318 
 
 Sketches of the Lives of Prominent Painters 
 
 318 to 325 
 
 Sculptors 326 to 328 
 
 Engraving 332 
 
 Dr. Anderson 332 
 
 Copper-Plate Engraving 333 
 
 Americin Bank Note Company 333 
 
 Descriptions of Engraving 334 
 
 Lithography, Daguerreotype, Academies of 
 Art, &c 335 
 
XIV 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 BDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITU- 
 TIONS. 
 
 Development in the Colonial Period 337 
 
 Early Efforts in Virginia 337 
 
 do do in New York 338 
 
 Early Efforts in Colonies of Massachusetts 
 
 and Connecticut 338 
 
 Town Action in belialf of Schools 339 
 
 Colonial Legislation and Action in the 
 
 order of their settlement 341 
 
 Virginia 34 1 
 
 Massachusetts 349 
 
 Rhode Island, Connecticut 344 
 
 New Hampshire 345 
 
 New York 34G 
 
 Maryland 347 
 
 New Jersey, Pennsylvania 348 
 
 Delaware, North Carolina 349 
 
 South Carolina, Georgia 350 
 
 BbsULTS AT THE CLOSE OF OUR COLONIAL HIS- 
 TORY 350 
 
 BSVOLtTTlONART AND TRANSITION PERIOD 351 
 
 Opinions and Efforts of Noah Webster, George 
 Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jeffer- 
 son 352 
 
 Opinions and Efforts of James Madison, John 
 Quincy Adams, Benjamin Rush, John Jay, 
 De Witt Clinton, Chancellor Kent, Daniel 
 
 Webster 353 
 
 Progress of Common or Elementary Schools 355 
 
 Letter from Noah Webster 355 
 
 do do Heman Humphrey 356 
 
 do do Joseph T. Buckingham 359 
 
 do do Dr. Nott 362 
 
 Recollections of Peter Parley 363 
 
 The Homespun Era of Common Schools, by 
 
 Horace Bushnell. D.D 369 
 
 Letter from William Darlington, M.D,, LL.D. 370 
 
 Schools in Philadelphia 37j 
 
 School Holiday in Georgia 373 
 
 Old Field School or Academy in Virginia. . . 377 
 Remarks 380 
 
 PAOB 
 
 What is Education ? 383 
 
 Remarks on the Common School System in 
 
 the United States 334 
 
 Academies, High Schools, &c 388 
 
 Letter of Josiah Quincy 389 
 
 Address of Hon. Edward Everett 391 
 
 Colleges 392 
 
 Professional, Scientific and Special Schools 393 
 
 Theological Schools 393 
 
 Law StuooLs 394 
 
 Medical Schools 394 
 
 Military and Naval Schools 395 
 
 XoRMAL Schools, &c 397 
 
 Schools of Science for Engineers, *c 400 
 
 The Lawrence School 401 
 
 Schools of Agriculture 402 
 
 Commercial Schools 403 
 
 Schools for Mechanics 403 
 
 Fine Arts — Female Education 404 
 
 School-Houses, Apparatus, and Text-Books 406 
 
 Tlie Horn-Book 413 
 
 New England Primer 414 
 
 Webster's Spelling Book 4ie 
 
 Scliool Apparatus 422 
 
 LlDRARIES 423 
 
 Astor Library, Boston City Library 424 
 
 New York Mercantile Library 425 
 
 Table of Libraries in the United States 429 
 
 Lyceums, tec 432 
 
 Institutions for the Instruction of Deaf 
 
 AND Dumb 434 
 
 Rev. Thomas H. Gallaudet 435 
 
 Institutions for the Blind 439 
 
 Institutions for Idiots 440 
 
 Institutions for Education of Orphans 445 
 
 Reformatory Institutions 446 
 
 PMucational Statistics of the United States. . 451 
 
 Table of American Colleges 452 
 
 do Theological Schools 454 
 
 do Law Schools, Medical Schools 455 
 
 do Deaf and Dumb In,stitutiou8 456 
 
 do Blind Institutions 457 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 1, Frontispiece, 
 
 2, AmericHn Iron Works, 22 
 
 3, Smcltins Pij; Iron 22 
 
 4, Forges ;it Chalons 22 
 
 5, Flattening Machine 22 
 
 6, Chestnut Hill Mine 27 
 
 7, Viewof Baltimore, (Steel Plate) 28 
 
 8, Puddling 32 
 
 9, Casting Pig Iron 32 
 
 10, Blast Furnace 32 
 
 11, Casting Steel Ingots 32 
 
 12, Steam Hammers 40 
 
 13, Forges and Trip Hammer 40 
 
 14, Stone Hammer 51 
 
 15, Hydraulic Mining. . . 65 
 
 16, Tunneling at Table Mountain, Cal 66 
 
 17, Large Rocker 07 
 
 18, Stamps tor Crushing Gold Ores 68 
 
 19, Burke Uocker 74 
 
 20, Yosemite Valley 74 
 
 21, Father of the Forest 74 
 
 22, Gold Mining 74 
 
 23, Prop ects in California 74 
 
 24, ( Ihinese in California 74 
 
 25, Crushing Mill, or Arrastre 75 
 
 26, Scotch Hearth Furnace 88 
 
 27, Apparatus for Working Platinum 108 
 
 28, Viewof New Almaden Quicksilver Mines 113 
 
 29, Map of the Anthricite region. Pa. Mines, 126 
 
 30, Map showing Uifi'erent Strata, in Coal 
 
 Ucgions. Pa 130 
 
 31, Map showing Different Strata in Coal 
 
 Keirjons, Pa 132 
 
 32, Jit. Pisgah Plane. Mauch Chunk, Pa 137 
 
 33, Great Open Quany of the Lehigh 138 
 
 34, Baltimore Company's Mine, Pa 139 
 
 35, Colliery Slope 139 
 
 36, View at Mauch Chunk 139 
 
 37, Descending the Shaft 140 
 
 38, Fire Damp Explosion 140 
 
 39, Inundations 140 
 
 40, Breaking of Props 140 
 
 41 , Undermining Coal 142 
 
 42, Breaking off and Landing 142 
 
 43, Drawing out Coal 142 
 
 44, Fire in the Oil Regions, (Chrorao) 161 
 
 45, Oil Wells 168 
 
 46, Indian Encampment 170 
 
 47, Saw Mills 172 
 
 48, Niagara Falls, (Steel Plate) 175 
 
 49, The Farm 176 
 
 50, Victoria Bridge, (Steel Plate) 178 
 
 51, City Hall, New York 182 
 
 52, New York Stock Exchange 182 
 
 53, Academy of Design, New York 182 
 
 54, Cooper Institute 183 
 
 55, Gov. Stay vesant Mansion 1 84 
 
 56, First-Class Dwelling 184 
 
 57, A. T. Stewart's Residence 184 
 
 58 
 
 59 
 
 60, 
 
 61 
 
 62 
 
 63 
 
 64, 
 
 65 
 
 66 
 
 67 
 
 68, 
 
 69, 
 
 7o, 
 
 71 
 
 72 
 
 73 
 
 74 
 
 75 
 
 "6, 
 
 77, 
 
 78 
 
 79 
 
 80, 
 
 81 
 
 82 
 
 83 
 
 84, 
 
 85, 
 
 86, 
 
 87 
 
 88, 
 
 89 
 
 90, 
 
 91 
 
 92, 
 
 93 
 
 94 
 
 95 
 
 9fi 
 
 97 
 
 98 
 
 99 
 
 100 
 
 101 
 
 102 
 
 103 
 
 104 
 
 105, 
 
 106 
 
 107 
 
 108, 
 
 109 
 
 110, 
 
 111 
 
 112 
 
 113 
 
 114 
 
 115, 
 
 116, 
 
 Paoh. 
 
 View of Broad Street 1 85 
 
 Interior Carpet House 1 90 
 
 Interior of a Dry Goods House 200 
 
 Capitol at Washington, (Steel Plate) .... 200 
 
 U. S. Bank, Pa., (Steel Plate) 206 
 
 Senate Chamber 211 
 
 Coining Room 216 
 
 Adjusting Room 216 
 
 Kire, ( Cliromo) 218 
 
 Buildings on Fire .'. 219 
 
 Amoskeag Fire Engine 224 
 
 Hand Engine without Suction 225 
 
 Hand Engme fore and aft Brakes 225 
 
 Hand Engine Side Brakes 225 
 
 Hook and Ladder 225 
 
 Hose Carriage 225 
 
 Life Insurance Illustrated, Mr. Jones 226 
 
 Mr. Smith 226 
 
 " Mr. Clark.... 226 
 
 City Hall and Park, N. Y., (oteel Plate) 232 
 
 Irish Emigrants 240 
 
 Irishmen in Common Council, NY 240 
 
 Japanese 244 
 
 Wood's Moulding Machine 247 
 
 Old Styles Kurniture 248 
 
 New Styles of Furniture 243 
 
 Kitchen of 1770 252 
 
 " 1(<70 252 
 
 Fashion, 1776 2.i5 
 
 Evening Dress, 1780 255 
 
 Fashion, 1 780 255 
 
 1785 2.55 
 
 Evening Dress, 1795 255 
 
 1797 255 
 
 Fashion, 1800 255 
 
 1805 255 
 
 Children, 1 805 255 
 
 Fashions, 1812 255 
 
 Boys, 1812 255 
 
 Men, 1812 255 
 
 Women l'<15 256 
 
 Men, 1818 256 
 
 Women, 1820 256 
 
 Men, 1825 256 
 
 " 1828 256 
 
 Winter Dress, 1 833 256 
 
 Boys and Giris, 1 833 256 
 
 Men, 1833 256 
 
 Women, 1833 256 
 
 1840 256 
 
 Men, 1844 256 
 
 Women, 18.50 256 
 
 Fashions from 1 850 to 1 860 256 
 
 " " 1868 to 1869 256 
 
 Pleasant Home, (Steel Plate) 260 
 
 Noah Webster, (Steel Plate) 266 
 
 Laying on Gold 272 
 
 Embossing Press 272 
 
 Sawing Machine 273 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Paqe. 
 
 117, Finishing Room 273 
 
 118, Gentlemen Authors 283 
 
 119, Liulr Authors 283 
 
 120, Franklin Statue 286 
 
 121, Franklin Press 289 
 
 122, Washinfrton Press 289 
 
 123, Hand Press, Steam Inking Machine 290 
 
 124, Improved Inking Apparatus 290 
 
 125, Patent Single Cylinder Machine 291 
 
 126, Eight Cylinder Machine 292 
 
 127, Ten Cylinder Machine 293 
 
 1 28, Four Color Machine 294 
 
 1 29, Bed and Platen Power Machine 295 
 
 130, Kailroail Ticket Machine 296 
 
 131 , The Bullock Printing Press 306 
 
 132, Editorial Room 306 
 
 133, Composing Room , 306 
 
 134, Press Room 307 
 
 135, Stereotyping Room 307 
 
 136, Telegraph Apparatus. 315 
 
 137, Gentlemen in Fine Arts 322 
 
 138, Women in Fine Arts 322 
 
 139, Fishing at Newport 330 
 
 140, Country View 330 
 
 14-1, Spring." 331 
 
 142, Summer 331 
 
 143, Fall 331 
 
 1 44, First Map Engraved 332 
 
 145, Map of the Present Day 332 
 
 146, School, Interior of, in 1770 372 
 
 147, " " " 1870 372 
 
 148, Contraband Schools 380 
 
 149, P'ounding of Dartmouth College 392 
 
 1 50, School Houses as they were 406 
 
 151, " " " 406 
 
 152, " " as they are 407 
 
 1 53, Village School House 407 
 
 154, Brown School House, Hartford 407 
 
 155, View of Girard College 408 
 
 156, Packer Collegiate Institute 409 
 
 157, " " " Garden Front.. 410 
 1.58, " " " Interior 410 
 
 159, Nonvich Free Academy 411 
 
 160, Chicago City University 412 
 
 161, Horn Book of the 18th Century 413 
 
 162, John Hancock 414 
 
 163, Burning of John Rogers at the Stake 414 
 
 164, In Adam's Fall we sinned all 415 
 
 165, Heaven to F^ind, the Bible Mind 4i5 
 
 166, Christ Crucified, for Sinners died 415 
 
 167, The Deluge Drowned, the Earth Around, 415 
 
 168, Elijah hid, Ijy Ravens fed 415 
 
 169, The Judgment made Felix afraid 415 
 
 170, As Runs the Glass 415 
 
 171, M v Book an d I leart must never part .... 415 
 
 172, Job Feels the Rod 415 
 
 173, Proud Korah's Troop was Swallowed up, 415 
 
 174, Lot flid to Zoar 415 
 
 175, Mo.ses was he who Israel's host led through 
 
 the Sea 415 
 
 176, Noah did view the Old World and New, 415 
 
 177, Young Obadias, David, Josias 415 
 
 178, Peter denied his Lord and cried 415 
 
 179, Queen Esther sues 415 
 
 180, Young Pious Ruth left all for Truth 415 
 
 181, Young Samuel dear, the Lord did fear. . . 415 
 
 182, Young Timothy learnt Sin to fly 415 
 
 183, Vasthi for Pride was set iiside 415 
 
 184, Whales in the Sea 415 
 
 185, Xerxes did die 415 
 
 186, While Youth doth cheer, &c 415 
 
 Page. 
 
 187, Zacheus he did climb the Tree 415 
 
 188, The Boy that Stole Apples 416 
 
 189, Country Maid 417 
 
 190, Cat and Rat 417 
 
 191, Fox and Swallow 418 
 
 192, Fox and Bramble 418 
 
 193, The Partial Judge 418 
 
 294, Bear .and Two Friends 419 
 
 195, Two Dogs 419 
 
 196, Eye, Nose, &c 420 
 
 197, Arm, Hand, &c 420 
 
 198, Eagle's Nest 420 
 
 199, Vertebriiles 420 
 
 200, Articulates 420 
 
 201, Mollusks 420 
 
 202, Radiates 420 
 
 203, Animals of the Seal Kind 420 
 
 204, Birds 421 
 
 205, Flowers 421 
 
 206, Geological Chart 421 
 
 207, School Apparatus as it was 422 
 
 208, School Apparatus as it is 422 
 
 209, Desk and Settee Combined 422 
 
 210, Platform Desk 422 
 
 211, Assistant Teacher's Desk 422 
 
 212, Tinsby 's Globe Time Piece 422 
 
 213, NnmeVal Frame 423 
 
 2 1 4, Eureka Wall Slate 423 
 
 215, School Globe 423 
 
 216, Black Board Support 423 
 
 217, Crayon Holder 423 
 
 218, Assembly School Desks and Settees 423 
 
 219, Boston City Library, pjxterior 425 
 
 220, " " Interior 426 
 
 221, Alphabet, Deaf and Dumb, A 436 
 
 222, " " " B 436 
 
 223, " " " C 436 
 
 224, " " " D 436 
 
 225, " " " E 436 
 
 226, " " " F 436 
 
 227, " " " G 436 
 
 228, " " " H 436 
 
 229, " " " 1 436 
 
 230, " " " J 436 
 
 231, " " " K 4.!6 
 
 232, " " " L 436 
 
 2.33, " " " M 436 
 
 234, " " " N 436 
 
 235, " " " 436 
 
 236, " " " P 436 
 
 236, " " " Q 436 
 
 237, " • " " R 436 
 
 238, " " " S 436 
 
 239, " " " T 436 
 
 240, " " " U 436 
 
 241, " " " V 436 
 
 242, " " " W 436 
 
 243, " •' '■ X 436 
 
 244, " " " Y 436 
 
 245, " " " Z 436 
 
 246, " " " & 436 
 
 247, American Asylum for Deaf and Dumb.. . 437 
 
 248, Pennsylvania Asylum for Blind 440 
 
 249, Asylum for Idiots, Syracuse, N. Y 444 
 
 250, Camp Meeting 
 
 251, Baptism by Immersion, (Steel Plate).. .. 
 
 252, Baptism by Sprinkling. " " .... 
 
 253, South Church, New Britain, Ct 
 
 2.i4, First Church built in Connecticut 
 
 255, Ancient Dutch Church in Albany 
 
 257, Ancient Swedish Church in Philadelphia, 
 
imiNG INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 
 
 The mineral wealth of the American 
 colonies does not appear to have been an 
 object of much interest to the early settlers. 
 Congregated near the coast, the}' were little 
 likely to become acquainted with many of 
 the mineral localities, most of which are in 
 the interior, in regions long occupied by the 
 Indian tribes. The settlers, moreover, prob- 
 ably possessed little knowledge of mining, 
 and certainly lacked capital which they could 
 appropriate in this direction. Some discov- 
 eries, however, were made by them very 
 soon after their settlement, the earliest of 
 which were on the James river, in Virginia. 
 Beverlj', in his " History of the Present 
 State of Virginia," published in London in 
 1705, makes mention of iron works which 
 were commenced on Falling Creek, and of 
 glass-houses which were about to be con- 
 structed at Jamestown just previous to the 
 great massacre by the Indians, in 1622. 
 This undertaking at Falling Creek is referred 
 to by other historians, as by Stith, in his 
 "History of Virginia" (1753), p. 279. A 
 Captain Nathaniel Butler, it appears, present- 
 ed to the king, in 1G23, a very disparaging 
 account of the condition of the colony, men- 
 tioning, among other matters, that " tlie Iron 
 Works were utterly wasted, and the People 
 dead ; the Glass Furnaces at a stand, and in 
 small Hopes of proceeding." The commit- 
 tee of the company, in their reply to this, 
 affirm that " great Sums had been expended, 
 and infinite Care and Diligence bestowed by 
 the Officers and Company for setting forward 
 various Commodities and Manufactures ; as 
 Iron Works," etc., etc. Salmon, in his 
 "Modern History" (1740), vol. iii, pp. 439 
 and 468, refers to the statement of Bever- 
 ly, mentioning that "an iron work was set 
 up on Falling Creek, in James River, where 
 they found the iron ore good, and had near 
 brought that work to perfection. The iron 
 proved reasonably good ; but before they got 
 into the body of the mine, the people were 
 Vol. II. 2 
 
 cut oflF in that fatal massacre (of March, 
 1622), and the project has never been set on 
 foot since, until of late ; but it has not had 
 its full trial." This author also refers to the 
 representations of the Board of Trade to 
 the House of Commons, in 1732, as contain- 
 ing notices of the iron works in operation in 
 New England. From various reports of the 
 governor of Massachusetts Bay and other 
 officials of this colon}', there appear to have 
 been, in 1731, as many as six furnaces and 
 nineteen forges for making iron in New Eng- 
 land, as also a slitting mill and nail factory- 
 connected with it. 
 
 The first blast furnace in the colonies ap- 
 pears to have been built in 1702, by Lambert 
 Despard, at the outlet of Mattakecset pond, 
 in Plymouth County, Massachusetts, and a 
 number more were afterward set in operation 
 to work the bog ores of that district. Their 
 operations are described in the " Collections 
 of the Massachusetts Historical Society" for 
 1804, by James Thacher, M. D., who was 
 himself engaged in the manufacture. In 
 Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, 
 the same kinds of ore were found and work- 
 ed at about the same period. Alexander 
 gives the year 1715 as the epoch of blast 
 furnaces in Maryland, Virginia, and Pennsyl- 
 vania. These enterprises were regarded 
 with great disfavor in the mother country. 
 In 1719 an act was brought forward in the 
 House of Lords, forbidding the erection of 
 rolling or slitting mills in the American col- 
 onies, and in 1750 this was made a law. 
 
 In Connecticut, Governor Winthrop was 
 much interested in investigating the charac- 
 ter of the minerals about Haddam and Mid- 
 dletown. In 1651 he obtained a license giv- 
 ing him almost unlimited privileges for 
 working any mines of "lead, copper, or tin, 
 or any minerals ; as antimony, vitriol, black 
 lead, alum, salt, salt springs, or any other 
 the like, * * * to enjoy forever said 
 mines, with the lands, woods, timber, and 
 water within two or three miles of said 
 mines." And in 1661, another special grant 
 
18 
 
 MINING INDISTRY OF THE UMTED STATES. 
 
 ■was made to him of any mines he might 
 discover in the neighborhood of Middletown. 
 It does not appear, however, that he derived 
 any special advantage from these privileges, 
 although he used to make frequent excur- 
 sions to the different localities of minerals, 
 especially to the Governor's Ring, a moun- 
 tain in the north-west corner of East Had- 
 dam, and spend three weeks at a time there 
 with his servant, engaged, as told by Gover- 
 nor Trumbull to President Styles, and record- 
 ed in his diary, in " roasting ores, assaying 
 metals, and casting gold rings." John Win- 
 throp, F.R.S., iirandson of Governor Win- 
 throp, was evidently well acquainted with 
 many localities of different ores in Connecti- 
 cut, and sent to the Royal Society a consid- 
 erable collection of specimens he had made. 
 It is supposed that among them Ilatchett 
 found the mineral colunibite, and detected 
 the new metal which he natned cohimbium. 
 At Middletown, an argentiferous lead mine 
 was worked, it is supposed, at this period, by 
 the Winthrops, and the men employed were 
 evidently skilful miners. When the mine 
 was reopened in 1852, shafts were found 
 well timbered and in good preservation, that 
 had been sunk to the depth of 120 feet, and, 
 with the other workings, amounted in all to 
 1,500 feet of excavation. The oldest Ameri- 
 can charter for a mining company was grant- 
 ed in 1709, for working the copper ores at 
 Simsbury, Connecticut. Operations were 
 carried on here for a number of years, the 
 ore raised being shipped to England, and a 
 similar mining enterprise was undertaken in 
 1719, at Belleville, in New Jersey, about six 
 miles from Jersey City. The products of 
 the so-called Schuyler mine at this place 
 amounted, before the year 1731, to 1,386 
 tons of ore, all of which were shipped to 
 England. At this period (1732) the Gap 
 mine, in Lancaster county, Pennsylvania, 
 was first opened and worked for copper, and 
 about the middle of the century various 
 other copper mines were opened in New 
 Jersey ; also, the lead mine at Southamp- 
 ton, Mass., and the cobalt mine at Chatham, 
 Conn. In 1754 a lead mine was success- 
 fully worked in Wythe county, in south- 
 western Virginia, and this is still productive. 
 It is probable that, by reason of the higher 
 value of copper at that period, and the lower 
 price paid for labor than at present, some of 
 the copper mines may have proved profit- 
 able to work, though it is certain this has 
 not been the case with them of late years. 
 
 The existence of copper in the region about 
 Lake Superior was known, from the reports 
 of the Jesuit missionaries, in 16G0, and one 
 or two unsuccessful attempts were made to 
 work it during the last century by parties of 
 Englishmen. The lead mines of the upper 
 Mississippi, discovered by Le Sueur in his ex- 
 ploring voyage up the river in 1700 and 
 1701, were first worked by Dubuque, a 
 French miner, in 1788, upon the tract of 
 land now occupied by the city in Iowa bear- 
 ing his name. 
 
 Such, in general, was the extent to which 
 this branch of industry had been carried up 
 to the close of the last century. The only 
 coal mines worked were some on the James 
 river, twelve miles above Richmond, and the 
 capacit}' of these for adding to the wealth 
 of the country was not by any means appre- 
 ciated. The gold mines were entirely un- 
 known, and the dependence of the country 
 upon Great Britain for the supply of iron 
 bad so checked the development of this 
 branch of manufacture, that comparatively 
 nothing was known of our own resources in 
 the mines of this metal. The most impor- 
 tant establishments for its manufacture were 
 small blast furnaces, working bog ores, and 
 the bloomaries of New York and New Jer- 
 sey, making bar iron direct from the rich 
 magnetic ores. 
 
 The progress of the United States in these 
 branches will be traced in the succeeding 
 chapters, one of which will be devoted to 
 each of the principal metals. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IRON. 
 
 The early history of the iron manufacture 
 in the American colonies has been noticed 
 in the introductory remarks which precede 
 this chapter. Since the year 1750 the re- 
 strictions imposed upon the business by the 
 mother country had limited tlie operations to 
 the production of pig iron and castings, and 
 a few blast furnaces were employed in New 
 England and the middle Atlantic states. A '^ 
 considerable portion of the pig iron was ex- ; 
 ported to Great Britain, where it was admit- 
 ted free of duty, and articles of wrought ; 
 iron and steel were returned from that coun- ! 
 try. In 1771 the shipment of pig iron from 
 the colonies amounted to 7,525 tons. By 
 the sudden cessation of eommercial relations 
 
19 
 
 on the breaking out of the war, the country 
 was thrown upon its own resources, but was 
 illy prepared to meet the now and extraor- 
 dinary demands for iron. The skill, experi- 
 ence, and capital for this business were all 
 alike wanting, and even the casting of can- 
 non was an undertaking that few of the fur- 
 nace masters were prepared to venture upon. 
 The bog ores found in Plymouth county, 
 Mass., together with supplies from New Jer- 
 sey, sustained ten furnaces ; and in Bridge- 
 water, cannon were successfully cast and bored 
 by lion. Hugh Orr, for the supply of the 
 army. They were also made at Westville, 
 Conn., by Mr. Elijah Bachus, who welded 
 together bars of iron for the purpose. The 
 Continental Congress, also, was forced to 
 establish and carry on works for furnishing 
 iron and steel, and in the northern part of 
 New Jersey, the highlands of New York, and 
 the valley of the Housatonic in Connecticut, 
 they found abundance of rich ores, and forests 
 of the best wood for the charcoal required 
 in the manufacture. At their armory at Car- 
 lisle, Pa., the first trials of anthracite for manu- 
 facturing purposes were made in 1775. But 
 the condition of the country was little favor- 
 able for the development of this branch of 
 industry, and after the war, without capital, 
 a currency, or facilities of transportation, the 
 iron business long continued of little more 
 than local importance. The chief supplies 
 were again furnished from the iron works of 
 Great Britain, the establishment of which 
 had in great part been owing to the restric- 
 tions placed upon the development of our 
 own resources; and while that country con- 
 tinued to protect their own interest by pro- 
 hibitor}' duties that for a long period exclu- 
 ded all foreign competition, the iron inter- 
 est of the United States languished under a 
 policy that fostered rather the carrying trade 
 between the two countries than the building 
 up of highly important manufactories, and 
 the establishment around them of perma- 
 nent agricultural settlements through the 
 home market they should secure. Hence it 
 was that the manufacture in Great Britain 
 was rapidly accelerated, improved by new 
 inventions, strengthened by accumulated 
 capital, and sustained by the use of mineral 
 coal for fuel, almost a century before we had 
 learned in the discouraging condition of the 
 art, that this cheap fuel, mines of which 
 were worked near Richmond in Virginia, 
 before 1790, could be advantageously em- 
 ployed in the manufacture. The natural ad- 
 
 vantages possessed by Great Britain power- 
 fully co-operated with her wise legislation ; 
 and as her rich deposits of iron ore and coal 
 were developed in close juxtaposition, and 
 in localities not far removed from the coast, 
 the iron interest became so firmly established 
 that no nation accessible to her ships could 
 successfully engage in the same pursuit, until, 
 by following the example set by Great Britain, 
 its own mines and resources might be in like 
 manner developed. Thus encouraged and 
 supported, the iron interest of Great Britain 
 has prospered at the expense of that of all 
 other nations, till her annual production 
 amounts to more than one-half of the seven 
 millions or eight millions of tons produced 
 throughout the world ; and the products of 
 her mines and furnaces have, until quite re- 
 cently, been better known, even in the ex- 
 treme western states, where the cost of 
 " Scotch pig iron " has been more than 
 doubled by the transportation, than has that 
 of the rich ores of these very states. And 
 thus it ij the annual production of the Uni- 
 ted States has only recently readied 2,000,- 
 000 tons, notwithstanding the abundance 
 and richness of her mines, both of iron ores 
 and of coal, and the immense demands of 
 iron for her own consumption. So great are 
 the advantages she possesses in the quality 
 of these essential materials in the production 
 of iron, that according to the statement of 
 an able writer upon this subject, who is him- 
 self largely engaged in the manufacture, less 
 than half the quantity of raw materials is 
 required in this country to the ton of iron, 
 that is required in Great Britain, " thus 
 economizing labor to an enormous extent. 
 In point of fact, the materials for making a 
 ton of iron can be laid down in the United 
 States at the furnace with less expenditure 
 of human labor than in any part of the 
 known world, with the possible exception of 
 Scotland." (''On the Statistics and Geog- 
 raphy of the Production of Iron," by Abram 
 S. Hewitt, N. Y., 1856, p. 20). The tables 
 presented by this writer, of the annual pro- 
 duction, show striking vicissitudes in the 
 trade, which is to be accounted for chiefly 
 by the fluctuations in prices in the English 
 m.arket depressing or encouraging our own 
 manufacture, and by the frequent changes in 
 our tariff. 
 
 "In 1810 the production of iron, en- 
 tirely charcoal, was 54,000 tons. In 1820, 
 in consequence of the commercial ruin which 
 swept over the country just before, the busi' 
 
20 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OP THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 ness was in a state of comparative ruin, and 
 not over 20,000 tons were produced. 
 
 In 1828 the product was 130,000 tons. 
 " 1829 " " " 142,000 " 
 
 " 1830 " '• " 165,000 " 
 
 " 1831 " " " 191,000 " 
 
 " 1832 " " " 200,000 " 
 
 " 1840 " " " 347,000 " 
 
 " 1842 " " " 2ir),000 " 
 
 " \?43 " " " 486,000 " 
 
 " I84G " " " 705,000 " 
 
 " 1847 " " " 800,000 " 
 
 " 1852 " " " 5G4,000 " 
 
 " 1854 " " " 7IG,C74 " 
 
 " 1855 " " " 754,178 " 
 
 '■ 185G " " " 874,423 " 
 
 " 1857 " " " 798,157 " 
 
 " 1858 " " " 705,094 " 
 
 " 1859 " " " 8<40,427 " 
 
 " 18C0 " " " 913,774 " 
 
 " 18G1 " " " 731,564 " 
 
 " 18G2 " " " 787,662 " 
 
 " 18C3 " " " 947,604 " 
 
 " 1864 " " "1,135,497 " 
 
 " 1805 " " " 931,532 " 
 
 " IS;;G " " "1,350,943 " 
 
 " 18fi7 " " "1,461,626 " 
 
 " 1808 " " "1,103,500 " 
 
 " 1SG9 ■' " "1,910,641 " 
 
 " 1870 " " " 2.000.000 " 
 
 There was a protective duty on iron from 
 1P2J to 1837, but none from 1837 to I8J3. 
 From 18-13 to 1848 there was protection, 
 but none from 1848 to 1803. The high 
 prot'Ctive duty was modified in 18G(), and 
 since that time the proteciion has been more 
 and more inoderiite as the |)reniium on gold 
 declined. The laritF of 1870 reduced the 
 duty from nine to seven dollars per ton on 
 pig iron, and from eight to six dollars per 
 ton on scrap iron. 
 
 Until the year 1840, charcoal had been the 
 only fuel used in the maiuifacture of iron ; 
 and wliilo it produced a metal far superior 
 in quality to that made with coke, the great 
 demands of the trade were for cheap irons, 
 and the market was chiefly supplied with 
 these from Great Britain. The introduction 
 of anthracite for smelting iron ores in 1840 
 marked a new era in the manufacture, though 
 its influence was not sensibly felt for several 
 years* 
 
 MATERIALS EMPLOYED IN THE MANUFACTURE. 
 
 Before attempting to exliibit the resources 
 of the United States for making iron, and 
 the methods of conducting the manufacture, 
 it is well to give some account of the mate- 
 rials employed, and explain the conditions 
 upon which this manufacture depends. Three 
 elements are essential in the great brancli of 
 the business — that of producing pig iron, 
 
 viz : ores, fuel to reduce tlicm, and a suit- 
 able flux to aid the process by melting with 
 and removing tlic eartliy impurities of the 
 ore in a freely flowing, glassy cinder. The 
 flux is usually limestone, and by a wise pro- 
 vision, evidently in view of the uses to 
 wliich this would be applied, limestone is 
 almost universally found conveniently near 
 to iron ores ; so also are stores of fuel com- 
 mensurate witli tlie abundance of the ores. 
 
 The principal ores are hematites, magnetic 
 and specular ores, the red oxides of the sec- 
 ondary rocks, and tlic carbonates. Probably 
 more than three-quarters of the iron made 
 in the United States is from the first three 
 varieties named, and a much larger propor- 
 tion of tlie English iron is from the last — 
 from tlie magnetic and specular ores none. 
 Hematites, wherever known, are favorite ores. 
 They are met with in great irregular-sliaped 
 deposits (apparently derived from other 
 forms in which the iron was distributed), in- 
 termixed with ochres, clays, and sands, some- 
 times in scattered lumps and blocks, and 
 sometimes in massive ledges ; they also 
 occur in beds inter.stiatificd among the mica 
 slates. Although the deposits arc regarded 
 as of limited capacity, they are often worked 
 to the depth of more than 100 feet; in one 
 instance in Berks county, Penn., to 105 feet; 
 and when abandoned, as they sometimes are, 
 it is questionable whctlier this is not ratlier 
 owing to the increased expenses incurred in 
 continuing tlie enormous excavations at such 
 depths, than from failure of the ore. Mines 
 of hematite have proved the most valuable 
 mines in the United States. At Salisbury, 
 in Connecticut, they have been worked 
 almost uninterruptedly for more than 100 
 years, supplying the means for supporting 
 an active industry in the country around, 
 and enriching generation after generation of 
 proprietors. The great group of mines at 
 Chestnut Hill, in Columbia county, Penn., 
 and others in Berks and Lehigh counties in 
 the same state, are of similar character. 
 
 The ore is a hydrated peroxide of iron, 
 consisting of from 1'2 to 85 percent, of per- 
 oxide of iron (which corresponds to about 
 50 to GO per cent, of iron), and from 10 to 
 14 per cent, of water. Silica and alumina, 
 phosphoric acid, and peroxide of manganese 
 are one or more present in very small quanti- 
 ties ; but the impurities are rarely such as to 
 interfere witli the production of very excel- 
 lent iron, either for foundry or forge pur- 
 poses — that is, for castings or bar iron. It is 
 
21 
 
 easily and cheaply mined, and works easily 
 in the blast furnace. On account of its de- 
 ficiency in silica it is necessary to use a lime- 
 stone containing this ingredient, that the 
 elements of a glassy cinder may be provided, 
 whicli is the first requisite in smelting iron ; 
 or the same end may be more advantageously 
 attained by adding a portion of magnetic 
 ore, which is almost always mixed with 
 silica in the form of quartz ; and these two 
 ores are consequently very generally worked 
 together — the hematites making two-thirds 
 or three-quarters of the charge, and the mag- 
 netic ores the remainder. 
 
 Magnetic ore is the richest possible com- 
 bination of iron, the proportion of which 
 cannot exceed '72.4 per cent., combined with 
 37.6 per cent of oxygen. It is a heavy, 
 black ore, compact or in coarse crystalline 
 grains, and commonly mixed with quartz 
 and other minerals. It atfects the magnetic 
 needle, and pieces of it often support small 
 bits of iron, as nails. Such ore is the load- 
 stone. It is obtained of various qualities ; 
 some sorts work with great difficulty in the 
 blast furnace, and others are more easily 
 managed and make excellent iron for any 
 use ; but all do better mixed with hematite. 
 The magnetic ores have been largely em- 
 ployed in the ancient processes of making 
 malleable iron direct from the ore in the 
 open forge, the Catalan forge, etc., and at 
 the present time they are so used in the 
 bloomary fires. They are found in inex- 
 haustible beds of all dimensions lying among 
 the micaceous slates and gneiss rocks. These 
 beds are sometimes so extensive that they 
 appear to make up the greater part of the 
 mountains in which they lie, and in common 
 language the mountains are said to be all 
 ore. 
 
 Specular ore, or specular iron, is so named 
 from the shining, mirror-like plates in which 
 it is often found. The common ore is some- 
 times red, steel gray, or iron black, and all 
 these varieties are distinguished by the 
 bright red color of the powder of the ore, 
 which is that of peroxide of iron. Mag- 
 netic ore gives a black powder, which is that 
 of a less oxidized combination. The specu- 
 lar ore thus contains less iron and more oxy- 
 gen than the magnetic ; the proportions of its 
 ingredients are 70 parts in 100 of iron, and 
 30 of oxygen. Though the difference seems 
 slight, the qualities of the two ores are quite 
 distinct. The peroxide makes iron fast, but 
 some sorts of it produce an inferior quality 
 
 of iron to that from the hematite and mag- 
 netic ores, and better adapted for castings 
 than for converting into malleable iron. The 
 pure, rich ores, however, are many of them 
 unsurpassed. It is found in beds of all di- 
 mensions, and though in the eastern part of 
 the United States they prove of limited ex- 
 tent, those of Missouri and Lake Superior 
 are inexhaustible. Magnetic and ."ipccular 
 ores arc associated together in the same dis- 
 trict, and sometimes are accompanied by 
 hematite beds ; and it is also the case, that 
 iron districts arc characterized by the preva- 
 lence of one kind only of these ores, to the 
 exclusion of the others. 
 
 The red oxides of the secondary rocks 
 consist, for the most part, of the red fossil- 
 iferous and oolitic ores that accompany the 
 so-called Clinton group of calcareous shales, 
 sandstones, and argillaceous limestones of 
 the upper silurian along their lines of outn 
 crop in Pennsylvania, Maryland, and east- 
 ern Tennessee, and from Oneida county, N. 
 Y., westward past Niagara Falls, and through 
 Canada even, to Wisconsin. The ore is found 
 in one or two bands, rarely more than one or 
 two feet thick, and the sandstone strata with 
 which they are associated are sometimes so 
 ferruginous as to be themselves workable 
 ores. The true ores arc sometimes entirely 
 made up of the forms of fossil marine shells, 
 the original material of which has been 
 gradually replaced by peroxide of iron. The 
 oolitic variety is composed of fine globular 
 particles, united together like the roe of a 
 fish. The ore is also found in compact 
 forms, and in Wisconsin it is in the condi- 
 tion of fine sand or seed. Its composition 
 is very variable, and its per-centagc of iron 
 ranges from 40 to 60. By reason of the 
 carbonate of lime dift'used through some of 
 the varieties, these work in the blast furnace 
 very freely, and serve extremely well to mix 
 with the silicious ores. 
 
 Of the varieties of carbonate of iron, the 
 only ones of practical importance in the 
 United States are the silicious and argilla- 
 ceous carbonates of the coal formation, and 
 the similar ores of purer character found 
 among the tertiary clays on the western 
 shores of Chesapeake Bay. The former va- 
 rieties are the chief dependence of the iron 
 furnaces of Great Britain, where they abun- 
 dantly occur in layers among the shales of 
 the coal formation, interstratified with the 
 beds of coal — the shafts that are sunk for 
 the exploration of one also penetrating beds 
 
22 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED 6TATKB. 
 
 of the Other. The la3'ers of ore are in flat- 
 tetieil blocks, balls, and kidney-shaped lumps, 
 which are picked out from the shales as the 
 beds of these are excavated. The ore is 
 lean, affording from 30 to 40 per cent, of 
 iron ; but it is of easy reduction, and makes, 
 when properly treated, iron of fair quality. 
 In Pennsylvania, Ohio, western Virginia, 
 Kentucky, and Tennessee, the ores occur 
 witli the same associations as in England ; 
 but the supply is, for the most part, very pre- 
 carious, and many furnaces that have de- 
 pended upon them arc now kept in opera- 
 tion only by drawing a considerable portion 
 of their supplies from the mines of Lake 
 Superior, more than one thousand miles off. 
 Among the horizontally stratified rocks west 
 of the Allcghanies, the same bauds of ore 
 are traced over extensive districts, and arc 
 even recognized in several of the dift'erent 
 states named. One of the most important 
 of these baiuls is the buhrstonc ore, so call- 
 ed from a cellular, flinty accompaniment 
 which usually underlies it, the whole con- 
 tained in a bed of peculiar fossiliferous lime- 
 stone. So much carbonate of lime is some- 
 times present in the ore, that it requires no 
 other flux in the blast furnace. Its pcr-cent- 
 agc of iron is from 25 to 35. Along the line 
 of outcrop of some of the carbonates are 
 found deposits of hematite ores, the result 
 of superficial changes in the former, due to 
 atmospheric agencies long continued. In 
 southern Ohio, at Hanging Rock particularly, 
 numerous furnaces liave been supported by 
 these ores, and have furnislied much of the 
 best iron produced at the west. 
 
 The carbonates of the tertiary are found 
 in blocks and lumps among the clays along 
 the shores of the ( hesapeake at Baltimore, 
 and its vicinity. The ores are of excellent 
 character, work easily in the furnace, make a 
 kind of iron highly esteemed — particularly 
 for the manufacture of nails— and are so 
 abundant that they have long sustained a 
 considerable number of furnaces. They lie 
 near the surface, and are collected by exca- 
 vating the clay beds and sorting out the 
 balls of ore. The excavations have been 
 carried out in some places on the shore be- 
 low the level of tide, the water being kept 
 back by coffer dams and steam pumps. 
 
 Bog ores, with which the earliest furnaces 
 in the country were supplied, are now little 
 used. They are rarely found in quantities 
 sufiicient for running the large furnaces of 
 the present day, and, moreover, make but an 
 
 inferior, brittle quality of cast iron. They 
 arc cliieiiy found near the coast, and being 
 easily dug, and also reduced to metal with 
 great facility, they proved very convenient 
 for temporary use before the great bodies of 
 ore in the interior were reached. Some fur- 
 naces are still running on these ores in the 
 south-west part of New Jersey, and at Snow- 
 hill, on the eastern shore of Maryland, and 
 the iron they make is used to advantage in 
 mixing at the great stove foundries in Albany 
 and Troy with otlier varieties of cast iron. 
 It increases the fluidity of these, and pro- 
 duces with them a mixture that will flow 
 into and take the forms of the minutest 
 markings of the mould. 
 
 Charcoal has been the only fuel employed 
 in the manufacture of iron until anthracite 
 was applied to this purpose, about the year 
 1840, and .still later — in the United States — 
 coke and bituminous coal. So long as wood 
 continued abundant in the iron districts, it 
 was preferred to the mineral fuel, as in the 
 early experience of the use of the latter the 
 quality of the iron it produced was inferior 
 to that made from the same ores with char- 
 coal, and even at the present time, most of 
 the highest-priced irons are made with char- 
 coal. The hard woods make the best coal, 
 and after these, the yellow pine. Hemlock 
 and chestnut are largely used, because of 
 their abundance and cheapness. The char- 
 coal furnaces are of small size compared 
 with those using the denser mineral coal, 
 and their capacity rarely exceeds a produc- 
 tion of ten or twelve tons of pig iron in 
 twenty-four hours. In 1840 they seldom 
 made more than four tons a day ; the differ- 
 ence is owing to larger furnaces, the use of 
 hot blast, and much more efficient blowing 
 machinery. The consumption of charcoal 
 to the ton of iron is one hundred bushels of 
 hard-wood coal at a minimum, and from this 
 running up to one hundred and fifty bushels 
 or more, according to the quality of the coal 
 and the skill of the manager. The economy 
 of the business depends, in great part, upoi. 
 the convenience of the supplies of fuel and 
 of ores, of each of which rather more than 
 two tons weight are consumed to every ton 
 of pig iron. As the woods are cut oft' in 
 the vicinity of the furnaces, the supplies are 
 gradually drawn from greater distances, till 
 at last they are sometimes hauled irofi. ten 
 to fourteen miles. The furnaces near Balti- 
 more have been supplied with pine wood dis- 
 charged from vessels at the coaling iiilns 
 
IRON. 
 
 23 
 
 close by the furnaces. Transportation of 
 the fuel in sucli cases is a matter of second- 
 ary importance. 
 
 The mineral coals are a more certain de- 
 pendence in this manufacture, and arc cheap- 
 ly conveyed from the mines on the great 
 lines of transportation, so that furnaces may 
 be placed anywhere upon these lines, with 
 reference more especially to proximity of 
 ores. Thus they can be grouped togeth- 
 er in greater numbers than is practicable 
 ■with charcoal furnaces. Their establishment, 
 however, involves the outlay of much capital, 
 for the anthracite furnaces are all built upon 
 a large scale, with a capacity of producing 
 from twenty to thirty tons of pig iron a day. 
 This requires machinery of great power to 
 furnish the immense quantities of air, 
 amounting in the large stacks to fifteen tons 
 or more every hour, and propel it through 
 the dense column, of fifty to sixty feet in 
 height, of heavy materials thatfiU the furnace. 
 The air actually exceeds in weight all the 
 other materials introduced into the furnace, 
 and its efficiency in promoting combustion 
 and generating intensity of heat is greatly 
 increased by the concentration to which it 
 is subjected when blown in under a pressure 
 of six or eight pounds to the square inch. 
 It is rendered still more efficient by being 
 heated to temperature sufiicient to melt lead 
 before it is introduced into the furnace; and 
 this demands the construction of heating 
 ovens, through which the blast is forced from 
 the blowing cylinders in a series of iron 
 pipes, arranged so as to absorb as much as 
 possible of the waste heat from the combust- 
 ible gases that issue from the top of the 
 stack, and are led through these ovens before 
 they are finally allowed to escape. The 
 ■weight of anthracite consumed is not fiir 
 from double that of the iron made, and the 
 ores usually exceed in weight the fuel. The 
 flux is a small .and cheap item, its weight 
 ranging from one-eighth to one-third that of 
 the ores. 
 
 The location of furnaces with reference to 
 the market for the iron is a consideration of 
 no small importance, for the advantages of 
 cheap material may be overbalanced by the 
 difference of a few dollars in the cost of 
 placing in market a product of so little value 
 to the Ion weight as pig iron. 
 
 The following statement gave the cost of 
 the different items which went to make up 
 the total e.xpense of production at the locali- 
 ties named in 1859. The advance in the 
 2* 
 
 value of ores, cost of transportation, labor, 
 and coal, have increased these items about 
 75 per cent, since 1863. 
 
 At different points on the Hudson river, 
 anthracite furnaces are in operation, which 
 are supplied with hematites from Columbia 
 and Dutchess counties, N. Y., and from the 
 neighboring counties in Massachusetts, at 
 prices varying from $2.25 to 83.00 per ton; 
 averaging about $2.50. They also use mag- 
 netic ores from Lake Champlain, and some 
 from the Highlands below West Point, the 
 latter costing S2.50, and the former §3.50 to, 
 $4.50 per ton ; the average being about 
 $!3.50. The quantities of these ores pur- 
 chased for the ton of iron produced are 
 about two tons of hematite and one of mag- 
 netic ore, making the cost for the ores $6.75. 
 Two tons of anthracite cost usually $9, and 
 the flux for fuel about 35 cents. Actual con- 
 tract prices for labor and superintendence 
 have been 14 per ton. Thus the total ex- 
 pense for the ton of pig iron is about |i:i0.10 ; 
 or, allowing for repairs and interest on 
 capital, full $21. 
 
 In the Lehigh valley, in Pennsylvania, 
 are numerous furnaces, which are supplied 
 with anthracite at the low rate of $3 per ton, 
 or $6 to the ton of iron. The ores are mixed 
 magnetic and hematites, averaging in the 
 proportions used about $3 per ton, or, at the 
 rate consumed of 2i tons, $7.50 to the ton 
 of iron. Allowing the same amount — $4.35 
 — for other items, as at the Hudson river 
 furnaces, the total cost is $17.85; or, with 
 interest and repairs, nearly $19 per ton. The 
 difference is in great part made up to the 
 furnaces on the Hudson by their convenience 
 to the great markets of New York, Troy, and 
 Albany. 
 
 The charcoal iron made near Baltimore 
 shows a higher cost of production than either 
 of the above, and it is also subject to greater 
 expenses of transportation to market, which 
 is chiefly at the rolling mills and nail fac- 
 tories of Massachusetts. Its superior quality 
 causes a demand for the product and 
 sustains the business. For this iron per ton 
 24 tons of ore are consumed, costing $3,624 
 per ton, or $9.06 ; fuel, 34 cords at $2.50, 
 $8.75; flux, oyster shells, 30 cts. ; labor (in- 
 cluding $1.50 for charring) $2.75 ; other e.x- 
 penses, $2 ; total, $22.86. 
 
 At many localities in the interior of 
 Pennsylvania and Ohio, iron is made at less 
 cost, but their advantages are often counter- 
 balanced by additional expenses incurred in 
 
24 
 
 MINING INDUSTKir OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 delivering the metal, and obtaining the pro- 
 ceeds of its sale. Increased facilities of 
 transportation, however, are rapidly remov- 
 ing these distinctions. At Danville, on the 
 Susquehanna river, Columbia county, Penn- 
 sylvania, the cost of production has been re- 
 duced to an unusually low amount, by reason 
 of large supplies of ore close at hand, the 
 cheapness of anthracite, and the very large 
 scale of the operations. Pig iron, as shown 
 by the books of the compan}', has been made 
 for $11 per ton. Its quality, however, was 
 inferior, so that, with the expenses of trans- 
 portation added, it could not be placed in 
 the eastern markets to compete with other 
 irons. Pig iron is produced more cheaply 
 on the Ohio river and some of its tributaries 
 than elsewhere, but there are no furnaces in 
 the United States which can make a good 
 article much less than S27 per ton. 
 
 DISTEIBUTION OF THE ORES. 
 
 The magnetic and specular ores of the 
 United States are found in the belt of 
 metamorphic rocks — the gneiss, quartz rock, 
 mica and talcose slates,and limestones — which 
 ranges along to the east of the AUeghanies, 
 and spreads over the principal part of the 
 New England states. It is only, however, 
 in certain districts, that this belt is produc- 
 tive in iron ores. The hematites belong to 
 the same group, and the important districts 
 of the three ores may be noticed in the or- 
 der in which they are met from Canada to 
 Alabama. Similar ores are also alnindant 
 in Missouri, and to the south of Lake 
 Superior. 
 
 New England States. — In New Ilamp- 
 sliire magnetic and specular ores are found 
 in largo quantities in a high granitic hill 
 called the Baldface Mountain, in the town 
 of Bartlctt. The locality is not conveniently 
 accessible, and its remoteness from coal 
 mines will probably long keep the ore, rich 
 and abundant as it is, of no practical value. 
 At Piermont, on the western border of the 
 state, specular ore, very rich and pure, is 
 also abundant, but not worked. At Fran- 
 conia a sni.all furnace, erected in 1811, was 
 run many years upon magnetic ores, obtain- 
 ed from a bed of moderate size, and which 
 in 1824 had been worked to tlie depth of 
 200 feet. In 1830 the iron estaljlisliments 
 of this place were still objects of considerable 
 interest, though from the accounts of them 
 published in the American Journal of Science 
 of that year, it appears that the annual pro- 
 
 duction of the blast furnace for the preceding 
 nine years had averaged only about "216 
 tons of cast iron in hollow ware, stoves, 
 machinerv, and pig iron" — a less quantity 
 than is now produced in a week by some of 
 the anthracite furnaces. One forge making 
 bar iron direct from the ore produced forty 
 tons annually, and another lUO tons, con- 
 suming 550 bushels of charcoal to the ton. 
 The cost of this, fortunately, was only from 
 $3.75 to S4.00 per hundred bushels. A 
 portion of the product was transported to 
 Boston, the freight alone costing $25 per ton. 
 
 In Vermont these ores are found in the 
 metamorphic slates of the Green Mountains, 
 and are worked to some extent for mixing 
 with the hematite ores, which are more 
 abundant, being found in many of the towns 
 through the central portion of the state, from 
 Canada to Massachusetts. In 1850 the 
 number of blast furnaces was ten, but their 
 production probably did not reach 4,000 
 tons per annum, and has since dwindled 
 away to a much less amount. At the same 
 time there were seven furnaces in Berkshire, 
 Mass., near the hematite beds that are found 
 in the towns along the western line of the 
 state. These had a working capacity of 
 about 12,000 tons of pig iron annually, and 
 this being made from excellent ores, with 
 charcoal for fuel, its reputation was high and 
 the prices remunerative; but as charcoal in- 
 creased in price, and the cheaper anthracite- 
 made iron improved in quality, the business 
 became unprofitable ; so that the extensive 
 hematite beds are now chiefly valuable for 
 furnishing ores to the furnaces upon the 
 Hudson river, where anthracite is deliv- 
 ered from the boats that have come through 
 the Delaware and Hudson canal, and magnetic 
 ores are brought by similar cheap conveyance 
 from the mines on the west side of Lake 
 Champlain. Through Connecticut, down the 
 Ilousatonic valley, very extensive beds of 
 hematite have supplied the sixteen furnaces 
 which were in operation ten years ago. The 
 great Salisbury bed has already been named. 
 In the first half of the present century it 
 produced from 250,000 to 300,000 tcms of 
 the very best ore ; the iron from which, when 
 made with cold blast, readily brought from 
 $6 to $10 per ton more than the ordi- 
 nary kinds of pig iron. The Kent ore bed was 
 of similar character, though not so extensive. 
 
 New York. — Across the New York state 
 line, a number of other very extensive de- 
 posits of hematite supported seven blast fur- 
 
IRON. . 
 
 25 
 
 naces in Columbia and Dntcliess counties, 
 and now furnish supplies to those along the 
 Hudson river. In Putnam count}-, magnetic 
 ores succeed the hematites, and are devel- 
 oped in considerable beds in Putnam Val- 
 ley, east from Cold Spring, where they were 
 worked for the supply of forges during the 
 last centur}'. These beds can again furnish 
 large quantities of rich ore. On the other 
 side of the river, very productive mines of 
 magnetic ore have been worked near Fort 
 Montgomery, six miles west fi'om the river. 
 At the Greenwood furnace, back from West 
 Point, was produced the strongest cast iron 
 ever tested, which, according to the report 
 of the officers of the ordnance department, 
 made to Congress in 1856, after being re- 
 melted several times to increase its densitv, 
 exhibited a tenacity of 45,9('0 lbs. to the 
 square inch. The beds at Monroe, near the 
 New Jersey line, are of vast extent; but a 
 small portion of the enormous quantities of 
 ore in sight, however, makes the best iron. 
 Mining was commenced here in 1750, and a 
 furnace was built in 1751, but operations 
 have never been carried on upon a scale 
 commensurate with the abundance of the 
 ores. In the northern counties of New 
 York, near Lake Charaplain, are numerous 
 mines of rich magnetic ores. Some of the 
 most extensive bloomary establishments in 
 the United States are suppoi-ted by them in 
 Clinton county, and many smaller forges are 
 scattered along the course of the Ausable 
 river, where water power near some of the 
 ore beds presents a favorable site. Bar iron 
 is made at these establishments direct from 
 the ores; and at Keeseville nail factories are 
 in operation, converting a portion of the 
 iron into nails. In Essex county there are 
 also many very productive mines of the same 
 kind of ore, and Port Henry and its vicinitv 
 has furnished large quantities, not only to 
 the blast furnaces that were formerly in 
 operation here, but to those on the Hudson, 
 and to puddling furnaces in different parts 
 of the country, particularly about Boston. 
 In the interior of Essex county, fort}- miles 
 back from the lake, are the extensive mines 
 of the Adirondac. The ores are rich as 
 well as inexhaustible, but the remoteness of 
 the locality, and the difficulty attending the 
 working of them, owing to their contamina- 
 tion with titanium, detract greatly from their 
 importance. On the other side nf the Adi- 
 rondac mountains, in St. Lawrence county, 
 near Lake Ontario, are found larjie beds of 
 
 specular ores, which have been worked to 
 some extent in several blast furnaces. They 
 occur along the line of junction of the gran- 
 ite and the Potsdam sandstone. The iron 
 they make is inferior — suitable only for cast- 
 ings. The only other ores of any importance 
 in the state are the fossiliferous ores of the 
 Clinton group, which are worked near Oneida 
 Lake, and at several points along a narrow 
 belt of country near the south shore of Lake 
 Ontario. They have sustained five blast 
 furnaces in this region, and are transported 
 in large quantities by canal to the anthra- 
 cite furnaces at Scranton, in Pennsylvania, 
 the boats returning with mineral coal for the 
 furnaces near Oneida Lake. 
 
 New Jersey. — From Orange county, in 
 New York, the range of gneiss and horn- 
 blende rocks, which contain the magnetic 
 and specular ores, passes into New Jersey, 
 and spreads over a large part of Passaic and 
 Morris, and the eastern parts of Sussex and 
 Warren counties. The beds of magnetic ore 
 are very large and numerous, and have been 
 worked to great extent, especially about 
 Ringwood, Dover, Rockaway, Boonton, and 
 other towns, both in blast furnaces and in 
 bloomaries. At Andover, in Sussex county, 
 a great body of specular ores furnished for a 
 number of years the chief supjjlies for the 
 furnaces of the Trenton Iron Company, situ- 
 ated at Philipsburg, opposite the mouth of 
 the Lehigh. On the range of this ore, a few 
 miles to the north-east, are extensive deposits 
 of Frankliniteiron ore accompanying the zinc 
 ore of this region. This unusual variety 
 of ore consists of peroxide of iron about 
 66 per cent., oxide of zinc 17, and oxide of 
 manganese 16. It is smelted at the works 
 of the New Jersey Zinc Company at New- 
 ark, producing annually about 2,000 tons of 
 pig iron. The metal is remarkable for its 
 large crystalline faces and hardness, and is 
 particularly adapted for the manufacture of 
 steel, as well as for producing bar iron of 
 great strength. 
 
 As the forests, which formerly supplied 
 abundant fuel for the iron works of this re- 
 gion, disappeared before the increasing de- 
 mands, attention was directed to the inex- 
 haustible sources of anthracite up the Lehigh 
 valley in Pennsylvania, with which this iron 
 region was connected by the Morris canal 
 and the Lehigh canal ; and almost the first 
 successful application of this fuel to the 
 smelting of iron ores upon a large scale was 
 made at Stanhope, by Mr. Edwin Post. A new 
 
26 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 era in tie iron manufacture was thus intro- 
 duced, and an immense increase in the pro- 
 duction soon followed, as the charcoal fur- 
 naces gave place to larger ones constructed 
 for antliracite. The Lehigh valle_v, lying on 
 the range of the iron ores toward the soutli- 
 wcst, also produced large quantities of ore, 
 which, however, was almost exclusively 
 hematite. Hence, an interchange of ores 
 has been largely carried on for furnishing 
 the best mixtures to the furnaces of the two 
 portions of tliis iron district ; and the oper- 
 ations of the two nuist necessarily be consid- 
 ered together. The annual production, in- 
 cluding that of the bloomaries of New Jer- 
 sey, has reached, within a few years, about 
 140,000 tons of iron. But in a prosperous 
 condition of the iron business this can be 
 largely increased without greatly adding to 
 the works already established, while the ca- 
 pacity of tlie iron mines and supplies of fuel 
 are unlimited. The proximity of this dis- 
 trict to the great cities. New York and Phil- 
 adelphia, adds greatly to its importance. 
 
 Pennsylvania. — Although about one- 
 third of all the iron manufactured in the 
 United States is the product of the mines of 
 Pennsylvania, and of the ores carried into 
 the state, the comparative importance of her 
 mines has been greatly overrated, and their 
 large development is rather owing to the 
 abundant supplies of mineral coal conveni- 
 ently at hand for working the ores, and, as 
 remarked by Mr. Lesley (" Iron Manufac- 
 turer's Guide," p. 433), " to the energetic, 
 persevering (ierman use for a century of 
 years of what ores d<i exist, than to any ex- 
 traordinary wealth of iron of which she can 
 boast. Her reputation for iron is certainly 
 not derived from any actual pre-eminence of 
 mineral over her sister states. New York, 
 New Jersey, Virginia, and North Carolina, 
 are far more liberally endowed by nature in 
 this respect than slic. The immense mag- 
 netic deposits of New York and New Jersey 
 almost disappear just after entering her lim- 
 its. The brown hematite beds of her great 
 valley will not seem extraordinary to one 
 ^vho lias become familiar with those of New 
 Y'ork, Massachusetts, Vermont, Virginia, and 
 Tennessee. Her fossil ores are lean and un- 
 certain compared with those of the south; 
 and the carbonate and hematized carbonate 
 outcrops in and under her coal measures 
 will hardly bear comparison with those of 
 the grander outspread of the same forma- 
 tions in Ohio, Kentucky, and western Vir- 
 
 ginia." The principal sources of iron in the 
 state are, first, the hematites of Lehigh and 
 Berks counties — the range continuing pro- 
 ductive through Lancaster, also on the other 
 side of the intervening district of the new 
 red sandstone formation. The ores are 
 found in large beds in the limestone valley, 
 between the South and the Kittatinny 
 mountains ; those nearest the Lehigh supply 
 the furnaces on that river, already amounting 
 to twenty-three in operation and four more in 
 course of construction, and those nearer the 
 Schuylkill supply the furnaces along this 
 river. The largest bed is the Moselem, in 
 Berks county, six miles west-south-west from 
 Kutztown. It has been very extensively 
 worked, partly in open excavation and partly 
 by underground mining, the workings reach- 
 ing to the depth of 165 feet. Over 20,000 
 tons a year of ore have been produced, at a 
 cost of from $1.30 to $1.50 per ton. 
 
 Magnetic ores are found upon the Lehigh, 
 or South mountain, the margin on the south 
 of the fertile limestone valley which con- 
 tains the hematite beds. These, how- 
 ever, are quite unimportant, the dependence 
 of the great iron furnaces of the Lehigh 
 for these ores being on the more extensive 
 mines of New Jersey; while the only sup- 
 plies of magnetic ores to the furnaces of the 
 Schuylkill and the Susquehanna are from the 
 great Cornwall mines, four miles south of Leb- 
 anon. An immense body of magnetic iron 
 ore, associated with copper ores, has been 
 worked for a long time at this place, at the 
 junction of the lower silui'ian limestones 
 and the red sandstone formation. The bed 
 lies between dikes of trap, and exhibits pe- 
 culiarities that distinguish it from the other 
 bodies of iron ore on this range. Tlic ^Var- 
 wick, or Jones' mine, in the south corner of 
 Berks county, resembles it in some particu- 
 lars. Its geological position is in the upper 
 slaty layers of the Potsdam sandstone, near 
 the meeting of this formation with the new 
 rod sandstone. Trap dikes penetrate the 
 ore and the slates, and the best ore is found 
 at l)Oth mines near the trap. Not far ivom 
 York, I'a , nii ore known as the Codorus Lon 
 Ore has been raised for some years, bul was 
 regarded as almost worthless, but recent ex- 
 periments have led to the discovery that it 
 contains the exact ingredients necessary to 
 make it the best of fluxes for reducing the 
 other ores of that region to steel of excellent 
 quality without any intermediate process. 
 Along the Maryland line, on both sides of the 
 
IROIf. 
 
 27 
 
 Susquehanna, chrome iron has been found in 
 considerable abundance in tlie serpentine 
 rocks, and has been largely and very profita- 
 bly mined forborne consumption and for ex- 
 portation. It furnishes the different chrome 
 pigment", and their preparation has been 
 carried on chiefly at Baltimore. 
 
 A portion of the hematites which supply 
 the furnaces on the Schuylkill, occur along a 
 narrow limestone belt of about a mile in 
 width, that crosses the Schuylkill at Spring 
 Mill, and extends north-east into Montgomery 
 county, and south-west into Chester county. 
 Their production has been very large, and 
 that of the furnaces of the Schuylkill valley 
 dependent upon these and the other mines 
 of this region has been rated at 100,000 
 tons of iron annually. 
 
 The great Chestnut hill hematite ore bed, 
 three and a half miles north-east of Columbia, 
 Lancaster county, covers about twelve acres 
 of surface, and has been worked in numer- 
 ous great open excavations to about 100 feet 
 in depth, the ore prevailing throughout 
 among the clays and sands from top to bot- 
 tom. "The floor of the mine is hard, white 
 Potsdam sandstone, or the gray slaty layers 
 over it. The walls show horizontal wavy 
 layers of blue, yellow, and white laminated, 
 unctuous clays, from forty to sixty feet deep, 
 containing ore, and under these an irregular 
 layer of hard concretionary, cellular, fibrous, 
 brown liematite from 
 ten to thirty feet 
 thick down to the 
 sandstone." (" Iron 
 M an uf act urer's 
 Guide, p. 562.") In 
 the accompanying 
 wood-cut, the dark- 
 ly shaded portions 
 represent the hema- 
 tites, while the light- 
 er portions above are 
 chiefly clays. Pro- 
 fessor Rogers sup- 
 poses that the ore 
 has leached down 
 from the upper slaty 
 beds through which 
 it was originally dif- 
 fused, and has col- 
 lected upon the im- 
 pervious sandstone, 
 
 which in this vicinity is the first water 
 bearing stratum for the wells. 
 
 The repeated occurrence of the lower 
 
 Silurian limestones and sandstones along the 
 valleys of central Pennsylvania, from the 
 Susquehanna to the base of the Alleghany 
 mountain, is accompanied through these val- 
 leys with numerous beds of hematite ; and 
 to the supplies of ore they have furnished 
 for great numbers of furnaces, is added the 
 fossiliferous ore of the Clinton group, the out- 
 crop of which is along the slopes of the ridges 
 and around their ends. Many furnaces have 
 depended upon this source of supply alone. 
 As stated by Lesley, there were, in 185 7, 
 14 anthracite furnaces that used no other, 
 and 1 1 anthracite furnaces which mixed it 
 either with magnetic ore or hematite, or with 
 both. Montour's ridge, at Danville, Colum- 
 bia county, referred to on page 2-1, is one of 
 the most remarkable localities of this ore. 
 Professor Rogers estimated, in 1847, that 
 there were 20 furnaces then dependent upon 
 the mines of this place, and producing<mnually 
 an average of 3,000 tons of iron each, with 
 a consumption of 9,000 tons of ore, or a 
 total annual consumption of 180,000 tons. 
 At this rate, he calculated that the availar 
 ble ore would bff exhausted in 20 years. 
 
 Between the Clinton group and the coal 
 measures are successive formations of lime- 
 stones, sandstones, shales, etc., which form a 
 portion of the geological column of many thou- 
 sand feet in thickness; and among these strata, 
 ores like the carbonates of the coal measures 
 
 CHESTNUT niLL UINS. 
 
 are occasionally developed, and these are 
 recognized and worked at many localities 
 along the outcrop of the formations to 
 
28 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 which they belong. Though of some local 
 hnportance, they do not add very largely to 
 the iron production of the state. Along the 
 summit of the Alleghany mountain the base 
 of the coal measures is reached, which 
 thence spread over the western portion of 
 the state, nearly to its northern line. The 
 ores which belong to this formation are 
 chiefly contained among its lower mem- 
 bers, and found in the outcrop of these 
 around the margin of the basin. At some 
 localities they have been obtained in consider- 
 able abundance, and many furnaces have run 
 upon them alone ; but for largo establish- 
 ments of several furnaces together, they 
 prove a very uncertain dependence. 
 
 Maryland. — The metamorphicbclt crosses 
 this state back of Baltimore, and is pro- 
 ductive in chromic iron and copper ores, 
 rather than in magnetic and specular ores. 
 Some of the former, highly titaniferous, have 
 been worked near the northern line of the 
 state, on the west side of the Susquelianna ; 
 and at Sykesville, on the Potomac, a furnace 
 has been supplied with specular ores from its 
 vicinity. Several hematite beds within 
 twenty miles of Baltimore have supplied 
 considerable quantities of ore for mixture 
 with the tertiary carbonates, upon which 
 the iron production of the state chiefly 
 depends. Beds of these occur near the bay 
 from Havre de Grace to the District of 
 Columbia. In the western part of the state 
 large furnaces were built at Mount Savage and 
 Lonaconing to work the ores of the coal 
 formation ; but the supply has proved in- 
 sufficient to sustain them. In 1853 the 
 capacity of the blast furnaces of the state 
 was equal to a production of over 70,000 
 tons of iron. This, however, has never been 
 realized. 
 
 Southern States. — South of Maryland 
 the same iron belt continues through Vir- 
 ginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia; and al- 
 though it is often as productive in immense 
 beds of the three varieties of ore — the 
 magnetic, specular, and hematite — as in the 
 other states along its range, those resources 
 add comparatively little to the material 
 wealth of the states to which they belong. 
 Through Virginia, east and west of the Blue 
 Ridge, hematite ores abound in the limestone 
 valleys, and magnetic ores are often in con- 
 venient proximity to them. Many small 
 furnaces have worked them at different 
 times, but their product was always small. 
 Three belts of magnetic ore, associated with 
 
 specular iron and hematites, are traced 
 across the midland counties of North Caro- 
 lina, and have furnished supplies for fur- 
 naces and forges in a number of counties — 
 as Lincoln, Cleveland, Rutherford, Stokes, 
 Surry, Yadkin, Catawba; and Chatham, 
 Wake, and Orange counties upon the east- 
 ern belt. The belt of ore from Lincoln 
 county passes into South Carolina, and 
 through York, Union, and Spartanburg 
 districts. It crosses the Broad River at the 
 Cherokee ford, and though the whole belt 
 is only half a mile wide, it presents numer- 
 ous localities of the three kinds of ore, and of 
 limestone also in close proximitv, and finely 
 situated for working. Several other locali- 
 ties are noticed in the " State Geological 
 Report," by M. Tuomey, who remarks, on 
 page 278, that "if iron is not manfactured 
 in the state as successfully as elsewhere, it is 
 certainly not due to any deficiency in 
 natural advantages." In northern Georgia 
 the ferruginous belt is productive in im- 
 mense bodies of hematite, associated with 
 magnetic and specular ores, in the Allatoona 
 hills, near the Etowah river, in Cherokee 
 and Cass counties. This, which appears to 
 be one of the great iron districts of the 
 United States, though bountifully provided 
 with all the materials required in the manu- 
 facture, and traversed by a railroad which 
 connects it with the bituminous coal mines 
 of eastern Tennessee, supports only six 
 small charcoal furnaces of average capacity, 
 not exceeding 600 or 700 tons per annum 
 each. In Alabama, hematites and specular 
 ores accompany the belt of silurian rocks 
 to its southern termination, and are worked 
 in a few bloomary fires and two or three 
 blast furnaces. The fossiliferous ore of 
 the Clinton group is also worked in this 
 state. 
 
 Tennessee in 1840 ranked as the third 
 iron-producing state in the Union. The 
 counties ranging along her eastern border 
 produced hematite ores, continuing the 
 range of the silurian belt of the great val- 
 ley of Virginia ; those bordering the Clinch 
 river produced the fossil ore of the Clinton 
 group, there known as the dyestone ore ; 
 and western Tennessee presented a very in- 
 teresting and important district of hematites 
 belonging to the subiiarboniferous limestone 
 in the region lying east of the Tennessee 
 and south of the Cumberland river.* The 
 
 * "It is remarkable that most of these deposits 
 
IRON. 
 
 29 
 
 furnaces of this district, which have num- 
 bered 42 in all, were the greater part of 
 them in Dickson, Montgomery, and Stewart 
 counties. They were all supplied with 
 charcoal for fuel, at a cost of S4 per hundred 
 busliels. In 1854 the product of pig iron 
 was 37,918 tons; but it gradually declined 
 to 27,050 tons in 1857; and iu August, 
 1858, only 15 furnaces were in operation. 
 The clo^e of the war gave a new impulse to 
 the production of iron in Tennessee, and 
 wilh her e.vcellent ores and her extensive 
 forests she is already taking the lead among 
 the southwestern Slates in the production 
 of a charcoal iron of superior quality, and 
 will soon produce, also, large quantities of 
 coke or bituminous cual iron. 
 
 Kentucky. — The western part of this 
 state contains, in the counties of Calloway, 
 Trigg, Lyon, Caldwell, Livingston, and 
 Crittenden, an important district of hema- 
 tite ores — the continuation northward of 
 that of Tennessee. In 1857 10 charcoal 
 furnaces produced 15,600 tons of iron. 
 Eastern Kentuck}', however, has a much 
 more productive district in the counties of 
 Carter and Greenup, which is an extension 
 south of the Ohio of the Hanging Rock 
 iron district of Ohio. The ores are car- 
 bonates and hematite outcrops of carbon- 
 ates, belonging to the coal measures and the 
 subcarboniferous limestone. They are in 
 great abundance ; a section of 740 feet of 
 strata terminating below with the limestone 
 named, presenting no less than 14 distinct 
 beds of ore, from three inches to four feet 
 each, and yielding from 25 to 60 per cent, 
 of iron. One bed of 32 per cent, iron con- 
 tains also 1 1 per cent, bitumen — a composi- 
 tion like that of the Scotch "black band" 
 ore. Others contain so much lime, that the 
 ores arc valuable for fluxing as well as for 
 producing iron. The furnaces use charcoal 
 
 are of what ia called pot ore, tliat is, lioUow balls of 
 ore, which, when broken open, look like broken 
 caldrons. One of them, preserved by Mr. Lewis, is 
 8 feel across the rim ! Another is six feet across. 
 Tlie niajoriiy are crossed within by purple diaphragms 
 or partitions of ore, and the interstitial spaces are 
 filled with yellow ochre. Some, like tlie great eiglit- 
 foot pot, are found to be full of water. Tlie inside sur- 
 face is maniinillary, irregular, sometimes botryoidal 
 or knobby, but the outside is pretty smooth and reg- 
 ular. All these pots were undoubtedly once bails 
 of carbonates of lime and iron segregated in tlie orig- 
 inal deposit. . . . Gypsum and pyrites are both 
 often found in these Teuuessee pots." — Iron Manu- 
 facturer's Guide, p. 603. 
 
 and coke. Their production, taken with 
 that of the same district in Ohio, places 
 this region, as will be seen in the tables to 
 follow, among the first iu importance in the 
 United States. 
 
 Ohio. — The ores of this state, like those 
 of Kentucky, belong almost exclusively to 
 the coal measures and the limestone forma- 
 tions beneath. In both states some of the 
 fo.ssiliferous ore also is found, but it is com- 
 paratively unimportant. The productive 
 beds are near the base of the coal formation, 
 ranging from the Hanging Rock district of 
 Scioto and Lawrence counties north-east 
 through Jackson, Hocking, Athens, Perry, 
 Muskinirum, Tuscarawas, Mahoning, and 
 Trumbull counties, to the line of Mercer 
 county in Pennsylvania. The uncertain 
 character of the ores, both as to supply and 
 quality, is strikingly shown by the fact that 
 many of the furnaces of the more northern 
 counties depend for a considerable portion 
 — one-fourth or more — of the ores they use 
 upon the rich varieties from Lake Superior 
 and Lake Champlain. Although the long 
 transportation makes these ores cost nearly 
 three times as much per ton as those of the 
 coal formation, some furnaces find it more 
 profitable to use the former, even in the pro- 
 portion of three-fourths, on account of the 
 much better iron produced, the greater num- 
 ber of tons per day, and the less consump- 
 tion of fuel to the ton. The fuel employed 
 is charcoal in many of the furnaces; some 
 have introduced raw bituminous coal to good 
 advantage. 
 
 Indiana, Illinois, and Iowa contain no 
 important bodies of iron ore. The coal 
 measures, which cover large portions of 
 these states, are productive in some small 
 quantities of the carbonates, in the two 
 former, which give support to a very few fur- 
 naces ; but in Iowa they contain no worka- 
 ble beds at all. 
 
 MiciiioAN. — The iron region of this state 
 is in the upper peninsula, between Green 
 Bay and Lake Superior. Magnetic and 
 specular ores arc found throughout a large 
 poilion of this wild territorv, in beds more 
 extensive than are seen in any other part of 
 the United States — perhaps than are any- 
 where known. The district approaches 
 within twelve miles of the coast of Lake 
 Superior, from which it is more conveniently 
 reached than from the south side of the 
 peninsula. The ores are found in a belt of 
 crystalline slates, of six to ten miles in 
 
30 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 width, that extends west from the lake shore, 
 and is bounded north and south by a 
 granitic district. They are developed in 
 connection with great dikes and ridges of 
 trap, whicli range east and west, and dip 
 with the slates at a high angle toward the 
 north. The ores also have the same direc- 
 tion and dip. Localities of them are of 
 frequent occurrence for eighteen miles in a 
 westerly direction from the point of their 
 nearest approach to Lake Superior. A second 
 range of the beds is found along the south- 
 ern margin of the slate district ; and about 
 thirty miles back from the lake, whore the 
 slates extend south into Wisconsin, similar 
 developments of ore accompany them to the 
 Menomonee river and toward Green Bay. 
 The quality of the ore found at different 
 places varies according to the amount of 
 quartz, jasper, hornblende, or feldspar that 
 may be mixed with it ; but enormous 
 bodies are nearly pure ore, yielding from 68 
 to 70 per cent, of iron, and free from a trace 
 even of manganese, sulphur, phosphorus, or 
 titanium. A single ridge, traced for about six 
 miles, rising to a maximum height o\ fifty 
 feet above its base, and spreading out to a 
 width of one thousand feet, has been found 
 to consist of great longitudinal bands of 
 ore, much of which is of this perfectly pure 
 character. Another ridge presents precipi- 
 tous walls fifty feet high, composed in part 
 of pure specular ore, fine grained, of imper- 
 fect slaty structure, and interspersed with 
 minute crystals of magnetic oxide ; and in 
 part of these minute crystals alone. Another 
 body of one thousand feet in width, and 
 more than a mile long, forms a hill one hun- 
 dred and eighty feet high, which is made up 
 of alternate bands of pure, fine grained, steel- 
 gray peroxide of iron, and deep red jaspory 
 ore — the laj'crs generally less than a fourth 
 of an inch in thickness, and curiously con- 
 torted. Their appearance is very beautiful 
 in the almost vertical walls. On one of the 
 head branches of the Esconaba is a cascade 
 of thirty-seven feet in height, the ledge over 
 which the water falls being a bed of peroxide 
 of iron, intermixed with silicious matter. 
 
 For the supply of the few furnaces and 
 bloomarv establishments already in operation 
 in this district, and for the larger demands 
 of distant localities, the ores are collected 
 from open quarries, and from the loose 
 masses lying around. A railroad afiords the 
 means of transporting them to Marquette, on 
 the lake shore, whence they are shipped by 
 
 vessels down the lake. The business already 
 amounts to more than 100,000 tons per 
 annum, and is increasing very rapidly. The 
 name Bay de Noquet and ALarquette railroad 
 suggests a southern terminus of this road on 
 Green Bay, and when an outlet is opened in 
 this direction, the production of iron ores 
 will no doubt exceed that of any other region 
 upon the globe. Large quantities will be 
 reduced with charcoal in blast furnaces and 
 blooniaries in the region itself; and when 
 the forests in the vicinity of the works are cut 
 off, the extensive timbered lands around 
 Lake Michigan and Lake Huron will furnish 
 inexhaustible supplies of fuel, which may be 
 brought in vessels to the furnaces, as the 
 pine wood from the forests around Chesa- 
 peake Bay has long been delivered to the 
 furnaces on its western shore. Anthracite 
 and bituminous coal will also be brought 
 back as return cargoes by the vessels that 
 carry the ores to the coal fields of Ohio and 
 Pennsylvania. With its vast inland naviga- 
 tion and wonderful resources of iron and 
 of copper also, the north-western portion of 
 our country promises to be the scene of a 
 more extended and active industry than 
 has ever grown out of the mines of any part 
 of the world. 
 
 Wisconsin. — Magnetic and specular ores 
 in bodies, somewhat resembling those of the 
 region just described, are found in the ex- 
 treme northern part of Wisconsin, upon 
 what is known as the Penokie range, distant 
 about 25 miles from Chegwomigon Bay, 
 Lake Superior. Bad River and Montreal 
 River drain this district. The ores, from 
 their remoteness, are not soon likely to be of 
 practical importance. Other immense bodies 
 of these ores, estimated to contain many 
 millions of tons, are found on Black River, 
 which empties into the Mississippi below St. 
 Croix river, on the line of the Land Grant 
 Branch railroad. A furnace has been built 
 by a German company to work these mines. 
 In the eastern part of Wisconsin the oolitic 
 ore of the Clinton group is met with in Dodge 
 and Washington counties,and again at Depere, 
 seven miles south-east of Green Bay. In the 
 town of Hubbard, Dodge count}', forty miles 
 west from Lake Michigan, is the largest de- 
 posit of this ore ever discovered. It spreads 
 in a layer ten feet thick over 500 acres, and 
 is estimated to contain 27,000,000 tons. It 
 is in grains, like sand, of glistening red 
 color, staining the hands. Each grain has a 
 minute nucleus of silex, around which the 
 
MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 31 
 
 oxide of iron collected. The per-centage of 
 metal is about fifty. This ore will probably 
 be worked near Milwaukee with Lake 
 Superior ores, the La Crosse railroad, which 
 passes by the locality, already aftbrding the 
 means of cheap transportatjion. 
 
 Missouri. — This state must be classed 
 among the first in the abundance of its iron 
 ores, though up to this time comparatively 
 little has been done in the development of 
 its mines. The ores are exclusively hema- 
 tites, and the magnetic and specular, and all 
 occur in the isolated district of silurian 
 rocks — formations which almost everywhere 
 else in the western middle states are con- 
 cealed beneath the more recent forma- 
 tions. In the counties along the line of the 
 Pacific railroad south-west branch, Prof. 
 Swallow, the state geologist, reports no less 
 than ninety localities of hematite. These 
 are in Jefterson, Franklin, Crawford, Phelps, 
 Pulaski, Marion, Green, and other counties. 
 The first attempts to melt iron in Missouri, 
 and probably in any state west of Ohio, were 
 made in Washington county, in 182.3 or 
 1824, and with the hematites of the localit}' 
 ■were mixed magnetic ores from the Iron 
 mountain. In Franklin county there is but 
 one furnace, though on both sides of the 
 Maramec are beds of hematite pipe ore, 
 which cover hundreds of acres. The Iron 
 mountain district is about sixty miles back 
 from the Mississippi river (the nearest point 
 on which is St. Genevieve), and extends from 
 the Iron mountain in the south-east part of 
 Washington county into Madison county. 
 It includes three important localities of 
 specular ore : the Iron Mountain, Pilot 
 Knob, and Shepherd mountain. The first is 
 a hill of gentle slopes, 228 feet high above 
 its base, and covering about 500 acres — a 
 spur of the porphyritic and syenitic range on 
 the cast side of Bellcvue valley. In its 
 original state, as seen by the writer in 1841, 
 it presented no appearance of rock in place, 
 its surface was covered with a forest of oak, 
 the trees thriving in a soil wholly composed 
 of fragments of peroxide of iron, comminuted 
 and coarse mixed together. Loose lumps 
 of the ore were scattered around on every 
 side but the north, and upon the top were 
 loose blocks of many tons weight each. 
 Mining operations, commenced in 1845, de- 
 veloped only loose ore closely packed with a 
 little red clay. An Artesian well was after- 
 ward sunk to the depth of 152 feet. It pass- 
 ed through the following strata in succession ; 
 
 iron ore and clay, 16 feet; sandstone, 34 
 feet; magnesian limestone, 74 inches; gray 
 sandstone, 74 inches; "hard blue rock," 37 
 feet ; " pure iron ore," 5 feet ; porphyritic 
 rock, 7 feet ; iron ore 50 feet to the bottom. 
 The ore appears to be interstratified with 
 the silicious rocks with which it is associated 
 in a similar manner to its occurrence at the 
 other localities, and data are yet wanting to 
 determine how much may exist in the hill 
 itself, as well as below it. Enough is seen to 
 justify any operations, however extensive, 
 that depend merely upon continued supplies 
 of ore. In quality the ore is a very pure 
 peroxide ; it melts easily in the furnace, 
 making a strong forge pig, well adapted for 
 bar iron and steel. Two charcoal furnaces 
 have been in operation for a number of 
 years, and up to the close of 1854 had pro- 
 duced 24,600 tons of iron. The flux is ob- 
 tained from the magnesian limestone, which 
 spreads over the adjoining valley in horizon- 
 tal strata. 
 
 Pilot Knob is a conical hill of 580 feet 
 height above its base, situated six miles south 
 of the Iron mountain. Its sides are steep, 
 and present bold ledges of hard, slaty, sili- 
 cious rock, which lie inclined at an angle of 
 25° to 30° toward the south-west. Near the 
 top the strata are more or less charged with 
 the red peroxide of iron, and loose blocks 
 of great size are seen scattered around, 
 some of them pure ore, and some ore and 
 rock mixed. At the height of 440 feet 
 above the base, w here the horizontal section 
 of the mountain is equal to an area of fifty- 
 three acres, a bed of ore is exposed to view 
 on the north side, which extends 273 feet 
 along its line of outcrop, and is from nineteen 
 to twenty-four feet in thickness. It is in- 
 cluded in the slaty rocks, and dips w'ith 
 them. Other similar beds are said to occur 
 lower down the hill ; and higher up others 
 are met with to the very summit. The 
 peak of the mountain is a craggy knob of 
 gray rocks of ore, rising sixty feet in lieight, 
 and forming so conspicuous an object as to 
 have suggested the name by which the hill 
 is called. The ore is generally of more slaty 
 structure than that of the Iron mountain, 
 and some of it has a micaceous appearance. 
 The quantity of very pure ore conveniently at 
 hand is inexhaustible. The production of iron 
 will be limited more for want of abundance 
 of fuel than of ore. Charcoal, however, may 
 be obtained in abundance for many years to 
 come, and bituminous coal may also be 
 
32 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 brought from the coal mines of Missouri and 
 Illinois, as the ores also can be carried to 
 the river to meet there the fuel. The local- 
 ity is already connected with St. Louis by a 
 railroad. A blast furnace was built here in 
 1846, and another in 1855. A bloomary 
 with six fires was started in 1850, and has 
 produced blooms at an estimated cost of 
 $30 per ton. 
 
 Sliephcrd mountain, about a mile distant 
 from the I'ilot Knob toward the south-west, 
 is composed of porphyritic rocks, which are 
 penetrated with veins or dikes of both map;- 
 netic and specular ores. These run in vari- 
 ous directions, and the ores they aftord are 
 of great purity. They are mined to work 
 together with those of the I'ilot Knob. The 
 mountain covers abi:>ut 800 acres, and 
 rises to the height of CGO feet above its base. 
 Other localities of these ores arc also known, 
 and the occurrence of specular ore is reported 
 by the state geologists in several other coun- 
 ties, as I'helps, Crawford, Pulaski, La Clede, 
 etc. 
 
 In muny parts of the United States and it* 
 territories iron is known to exist in great quan- 
 tities. In Nebraska and Wyoming territory, 
 near the line of the Union Pacific Railroad, 
 large beds of iron ore of good quality are found, 
 in proximity to extensive coal dei)osits, and 
 these will be utilized for making rails of iron 
 or steel for that great tiioroughfare. In 
 Kansas, Colorado, and New Mexico, are beds 
 of specular and olherores in great profusion. 
 The norihern territories, as well as the Pa- 
 cific States and lerritories, have abundant 
 ores of ihs richest qualities, and coal enough 
 and wood enough to melt them success- 
 fully. 
 
 IRON MANUFACTURE. 
 
 Iron is known in the arts chiefly in three 
 forms — cast iron, steel, and wrought iron. 
 The first is a combination of metallic iron, 
 with from 1,} to 5 or 5tV per cent, of carbon ; 
 the second is metallic iron combined with ^- 
 to 14 per cent, of carbon; and the third is 
 metallic iron, free as may be from foreign 
 substances. These dilferences of composi- 
 tion are accompanied with remarkable diftor- 
 ences in the qualities of the metal, by which 
 its usefulness is greatly multiplied. The 
 three sorts are producible as desired directly 
 from the ores, and they are also convertible 
 one into the other; so that the methods of 
 manufacture are numerous, and new processes 
 are continually introduced. The production 
 
 of wrought iron direct from the rich natural 
 oxides, was until modern times the only 
 method of obtaining the metal. Cast iron 
 was unknown until the 15th century. Rude 
 nations early learned the simple method of 
 separating the oxvgen from the ores by heat- 
 ing them in the midst of burning charcoal ; 
 the effect of which is to cause the oxygen to 
 unite with the carbon in the form of carbonic 
 acid or carbonic oxide gas, and escape, leav- 
 ing the iron free, and in a condition to be 
 hammered at once into bars. The heat they 
 could command in their small fires was in- 
 sufficient to eft'ect the combination of the 
 iron, too, with the carbon, and produce the 
 fusible compound known as cast iron. In 
 modern times the great branch of the busi- 
 ness is the production of pig metal or cast 
 iron in blast furnaces; and this is afterward 
 remelted and cast in moulds into the forms 
 required, or it is converted into wrought iron 
 to serve some of the innumerable uses of 
 this kind of iron, or to be changed again into 
 steel. In this order the principal branches 
 of the manufacture will be noticed. 
 
 The production of pig metal in Idnst fur- 
 naces is tlio most economical mode of separa- 
 ting iron from its ores, especially if these are 
 not extremely rich. The process requiring 
 little labor, except in charging the furnaces, 
 and this being done in great part by labor- 
 saving machines, it can be carried on upon 
 an immense scale with the employment of 
 few persons, and most of those ordinary la- 
 borers. The business, moreover, has been 
 greatly simplified and its scale enlarged by 
 the substitution of mineral coal for charcoal — • 
 the latter fuel, indeed, could never have been 
 supplied to meet the modern demands of the 
 manufacture. 
 
 Blastfurnaces are heavy structures of stone 
 work, usually in pyramidal form, built upon 
 a base of 30 to 45 feet square, and from 30 
 to CO feet in height. The outer walls, con- 
 structed with immense solidity and firmly 
 bound together, inclose a central cavity, 
 which extends from top to bottom and is 
 lined with large fire brick of the most refrac- 
 tory character, and specially adapted in their 
 shapes to the re(piired contour of the interior. 
 The form of this cavity is circular in its hori- 
 zontal section, and from the top goes on en- 
 larging to the lower portion, where it begins 
 to draw in by the walls changing their slope 
 toward the centre. This forms what are 
 called the boshes of the furnace — the part 
 which supports the great weight of the ores 
 
CASriNG PIU IKUN. 
 
 BLAST FURNACE. 
 
 CASTING STEEL INGOTS. 
 
IRON. 
 
 33 
 
 and fuel that fill the interior. For ores that 
 melt easily and fast they are made steeper 
 than for those which are slowly reduced. 
 The boshes open below into the hearth — the 
 central contracted space which the French 
 name the crucible of the furnace. The 
 walls of this arc constructed of the most re- 
 fractory stones of larsfe size, carefully selected 
 for their power to resist the action of fire, 
 and seasoned by exposure for a year or more 
 after being taken from the quarry. Beinc; 
 the first portion to give out, the stack is built 
 so that they can be replaced when necessary. 
 The hearth is reached on each side of the 
 stack by an arch, extending in from the out- 
 side. On three sides the blast is introduced 
 by iron pipes that pass through the hearth- 
 Btones, and terminate in a hollow tuyere, 
 which i-i kept from melting by a current of 
 waer brought by a lead or block-tin pipe. 
 and made to flow continually through and 
 around its hollow shell. The fourth side is 
 the front or working-arch of the furnace, atthe 
 bottom of which access is had to the melted 
 materials as they collect in the receptacle pro- 
 vided for them at the base of the hearth or 
 crucible. This arch opens out into the cast- 
 ing-house, upon the floor of which are the 
 beds in the sand for moulding the pigs into 
 which the iron is to be cast. Upon the top 
 of the stack around the central cavity arc 
 constructed, in first-class furnaces, large flues, 
 ■which open into this cavity for the purpose 
 of taking oft' a portion of the heated gaseous 
 mixtures, that they may be conveyed under 
 the boilers, to be there more efteetually con- 
 sumed, and furnish the heat for raising steam 
 for the engines. A portion of the gases is 
 also led into a large heating-oven, usually 
 built on the top of the stack, in which the 
 bhist (distributed through a series of cast iron 
 pipes) is heated by the combustion. These 
 pipes are then concentrated into one main, 
 which passes down the stack and delivers the 
 heated air to the tuyeres, thus returning to 
 the furnace a large portion of the heat 
 which would otherwise escape at the top, and 
 adding powerfully to the eSiciency of the 
 blast by its high temperature. The boilers, 
 also conveniently arranged on the top of the 
 furnace, especially when two furnaces are 
 constructed near together, are heated by the 
 escape gases without extra expense of fuel, 
 and they furnish steam to the engines, which 
 are usually placed below them. On account 
 of the enormous volume of air, and the 
 great pressure at which it is blown into the 
 
 furnace, the engines are of the most power- 
 ful kind, and the blowing cylinders are of 
 great dimensions and strength. Some of 
 the large anthracite furnaces employ cylin- 
 ders 7h feet diameter, and 9 feet stroke. One 
 of these running at the rate of 9 revolutions 
 per minute, and its piston acting in both di- 
 rections, should propel every minute 7,128 
 cubic feet of air (less the loss by leakage) 
 into the furnace — a much greater weight than 
 that of all the other materials introduced. 
 It is, moreover, driven in at a pressure (pro- 
 duced by the contracted aperture of the 
 nozzle of the tuyeres in relation to the great 
 volume of air) of 7 or 8 lbs. upon the square 
 inch. Two such cylinders answer for a pair 
 of the largest furnaces, and should be driven 
 by separate engines, so that in case of acci- 
 dent the available power may be extended to 
 either or both furnaces. It is apparent that 
 the engines, too, should be of the largest class 
 and most perfect construction ; for the blast 
 is designed to be continued with only tem- 
 porary interruptions that rarely exceed an 
 hour at a time, so long as the hcartli may 
 remain in running order — a period, it niaj' be, 
 of 18 months, or even 4 or 5 years. Fur- 
 naces were formerly built against a high bank, 
 upon the top of which the stock of ore and 
 coal was accumulated, and thence carried 
 across a bridge, to be delivered into the 
 tunnel-head or mouth of the furnace. Tlie 
 more common arrangement at present is to 
 construct, a little to one side, an elevator, 
 provided with two platforms of suflScient 
 size to receive several barrows. The moving 
 power is the weight of a body of water let 
 into a reservoir under the platform when it 
 is at the top. This being allowed to descend 
 with the empty barrows, draws up the other 
 platform with its load, and the water is dis- 
 charged by a self-regulating valve at the 
 bottom. The supply of water is furnished 
 to a tank in the top either by pumps con- 
 nected with the steam engine or by the head 
 of its source. 
 
 The furnaces of the United States, though 
 not congregated together in such large num- 
 bers as at some of the great establishments 
 in England and Scotland, are unsurpassed in 
 the perfection of their construction, apparatus, 
 and capacity ; and none of large size are prob- 
 ably worked in any part of Europe with such 
 economy of materials. The Sienien's regen- 
 erating furnace is adopted in those more 
 recently built, wherever an intense heat is 
 required for the reduction of the ores. 
 
34 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 WROUGHT IRON. 
 
 It ha'! been, in the pnst, a just p;rouud of 
 comiiLiiiit against the producers of wrouf ,it 
 iron and steel, that they could not reduce 
 either- directly from the ore — but must go 
 through the long and tedious processes of first 
 waking pig orcast iron, then eliminating the 
 carbon from the c:ist iron by a slill more 
 teilious process to produce the wrought iron, 
 and then restore a part of the carbon to make 
 steel. It was said with truth that the half 
 civilized Hindoo tribes and even the barbar- 
 ous Fans of West Africa, made tlieir native 
 wrought iron (the wootz of India) directly 
 from the ore of an excellent cpiality, and by 
 a much simpler process than was adopted 
 either in Europe or the United States. 
 
 There has been, until within the past fif- 
 teen or eighteen years, a spirit strongly ad- 
 verse to progress or improvement among 
 iron producers. By tlieir rude and wasteful 
 processes and their adherence to traditi<.)nal 
 methods and tesis, the}' succeeded in making 
 a fair though not very uniform quality of 
 wrought iron, at a pretty high cost, but they 
 deprecated any change even if it were for 
 the better. The philosophy and chemistry 
 of iron-making were not well understood, 
 and the time and way of its '• coming to na- 
 ture " a term which conveys the idea of a 
 mystery, was a secret which could only be 
 learned, it was thought, by some supernatural 
 inspiration or some extraordinarj' skill, only 
 to be acquired by long experience and care- 
 ful observation. 
 
 The Bessemer process, invented and put 
 in practice about 1 80 2, first disturbed this 
 popular idea; but in its earlier history this pro- 
 cess was not entirely free from guess-work and 
 the coming-to-nature theory by some sudden 
 and unex|)lieable change ; subsequent discov- 
 eries and experiments removed this mystery 
 entirely, and there is not, to-daj', in practical 
 chemistry and metallurgy a more thoroughly- 
 defined science than that of making iron 
 The iron master, who is fully educated foi 
 his business, having before him an accuratv 
 analysis of his ores, and knowing, as he can 
 if he will, that they are constant in their 
 com))osition. proceeds with the utmost cer- 
 tainty to add other ores, or to permeate the 
 molten ore with atmospheric air, or to force 
 additional oxygen through it by means of 
 nitrate of soda, nitrate of pot.assa, peroxide 
 of iron, or other oxygen-yielding compound, 
 or introduces a definite quantity of man- 
 
 ganese, powdered charcoal, or spiegeleisen, 
 or in some cases silica, to act as fiux and 
 remove the sulphur, phosphorus, or other im- 
 inn-ity, and to destroy the excess of carbon, 
 lie knows, too, just what heat is requisite, 
 and how long it must be continued to pro- 
 duce a certain result e^ery time. Here is 
 no guess-work, no " rule of thund)," no un- 
 certainty. If he requires the best steel for 
 rails, he can furnish it of jn'cci-ely standard 
 cpiality every time ; if he is producing steel 
 fiir the finest cutlerj' he can produce that; if 
 he desires a wrought iron which shall be so 
 tough and flexible that it can be bent double 
 cold without any sym]itoms of flaw or crack, 
 he knows just what percentage of the differ- 
 ent ores, what eliminating processes, and 
 what amount and duration of heat is neces- 
 sary to produce it. 
 
 Now, as in the past, there are different 
 grades and qualities of cast iron, wrought 
 iron, and steel, intended for diflx^rent pur- 
 ]ioses, made from difterent ores, and possess- 
 ing different degrees of tenacity, hardness, 
 and ductility ; but the iron-maker who can- 
 not produce from a given oi'e, or ores, that 
 description of iron which he desires, without 
 failure, does not understand his business. 
 
 Cast iron contains, accoiding to the pur- 
 pose for which it is intended, from five to 
 six and a half per cent of pure carbon, 
 either chemically or mechanically combined, 
 and except the combination of iron with hy- 
 drogen, which is its normal condition, it is 
 not the better for any admixture of other 
 metals or elements, though for some purposes 
 a small percentage of manganese, tungsten, 
 or even a little silicon, are not disadvantage- 
 ous. As a matter of practical fact, however, 
 both sulphur and phosjihorus are usually 
 present, though in good samples in very 
 small amount. By sulhcieiit care they can 
 be almost entirely elimiuntod, and are so in 
 the I o^t steel and wrought ii-oa. 
 
 ; teel, according to the purpose to which 
 
 •, is to be applied, contains, in chemical com- 
 
 I uination it is believed, from six-tenths to one 
 
 and six-tenths per cent, of carbon, and should 
 
 have no other ingredient. AV'rought iron, 
 
 ' apart from its ordinary combination with 
 
 ! hydrogen, should be entirely free from sul- 
 
 I phur, phosphorus, or silicon, and though for 
 
 I some purposes, a little manganese, tungsten, 
 
 and a very small percentage of carbon may 
 
 not prove dis.advantageous, yet practically a 
 
 pure iron is preferable to any alloy. Yet it 
 
 is seldom actually free from impurities. 
 
IRON. 
 
 35 
 
 AVhat is usually denominated pure iron, melts 
 ■with gieat ditli /ult v and only at a very mucli 
 greater heat than either steel or east iron. 
 Iiiat;tual prac:ice it is never melted, but when 
 the mass attains a pasty or semi-glutinous 
 conrlition, it is by one process or another, 
 either hammered, pressed, or squeezed till 
 the impurities are forced out of it. Abso- 
 lutely pure iron, i. e. iron free from hydrogen 
 as well as other impurities, is one of the 
 rarest mt-tals in the world, and was isolated 
 completely for the first time in 18G0. It is 
 a white metal very ductile, and tenacious and 
 so soft as to be easily cut with a knife. The 
 Bessemer proces-i for eliminating the car- 
 bon both for producing wrought iron and 
 steel, as now conducted, is as follows : A 
 quantity of pig iron of some grade whose 
 percentage of carbon is known, is melted in 
 one or more reverberating furnaces, accord- 
 ing to the size of the converting vessel to b^ 
 used, which varies in capacity from five to 
 twelve tons. When the metal becomes fluid, 
 it is run into tlie converting vessel, to which 
 is applied a strong lilast of air, which com- 
 bini's with the carbon at an intense white 
 heat. This is coutiiuied for about eight or 
 ten minutes, until the whole of the carbon is 
 consumed, when the b'ast is sti)|)i)ed. It is 
 now wrought iron, requiring unly to be 
 squeezed or hammered tofa-ce out whatever 
 impurities there may be in it. If, as is gen- 
 erally tlie case, it is deemed desirable to 
 make it into the Bessemer s'eel or homoge- 
 neous steel or iron, as it is called on the con- 
 tinent, a quannty of metal, usually a pure 
 pig iron, with a known quantity of carbon, 
 is melted and run into the converting vessel 
 to furnish carbon in the exact proportion to 
 make the quality of steel desired, and this 
 combining with t!ie refined iron gives to the 
 mass all the properties and cluiracteristics of 
 steel. This process, though practically a 
 very rapid one, is liable to the objection 
 N\'hieli held agiinst the old processes, that 
 th-re is a time in the process of eliminating 
 the carbon from the pig iron wlien the mass 
 of iron has just enough carbon to form good 
 steel ; and that by this process that point is 
 passed and the wliole of the carbon expelled, 
 the mass reduced to the condition of wrought 
 iron, and then brought up to the condition 
 of steel by the addition of a percentage of 
 cast iron. This elimination and restoration 
 of the carbon involves waste of time, of heat, 
 and of iron ; and hence efforts have been 
 
 made to convert pig iron and iron ore into 
 steel bj' a single process. 
 
 Most of the methods proposed and abid'ng 
 the test of actual manufacture are intended 
 for the reduction of pig iron or ore to steel, 
 and so come more properly under tiie head 
 of steel ; but a few of them are equally ap- 
 plicable to the production of wrought iron. 
 
 Amo.^g these were the ingenious sugges- 
 tions of a New York chemist. Prof A. K. 
 Eaton, at first applied to the malleable cast 
 iron to partially decarbonize it. lie pro- 
 posed the use of the native carbonate of zinc 
 as a flux to furni-h the oxygen to consume 
 the excess of carbon. The objection to this 
 process was two-fold — that the zinc com- 
 bined in a small proportion with the iron, — 
 and that the process was too expensive to be 
 successful. He afterward proposed to sub- 
 stitute crude soda-ash for the zinc — a sug- 
 gestion in the right direction ; for the sodium 
 will combine with the sulphur and phospho- 
 rus, and thus help to remove the impurities 
 from the iron ; but the crude soda ash is too 
 uncertain in its composition, too full of im- 
 purities, and does not yield its oxygen with 
 suHicirnt readiness to be practically the best 
 fiux f >r this purpose. 
 
 The process of Messrs. ^Vlielpley & Storer 
 seems one of the best of the numerous Ameri- 
 can processes. The oxide of carbon, t. e. 
 coal gas, half or imperfectl}' burned, is the 
 grand agent for making iron and steel from 
 all the German and English furnaces, but 
 the great difficulty has been to apply the 
 ])owerful agent in such a way as to reduce 
 directly from the ore without going through 
 the pig iron manufacture, the wrought or 
 bar iron, or steel, and free it from the impu- 
 rities which exist more or less in .all ores as 
 well as in much of the pig iron. Messrs. 
 Whelpley & Storer effect this by means of a 
 machi le of their own invention, which is 
 really nothing less than the chemist's blow 
 pipe on a grand scale. The oxide of carbon 
 is generated at the moment of using it upon 
 the mass of ore, by the injection of a column 
 of hot air carrying an excessively fine dust 
 of coal or charcoal. The ore spread out 
 upon the floor of a common reverberating 
 furnace receives the red hot blast, while it 
 is rajiidly stirred by the workman, and pura 
 iron in minute grains is produced in any 
 desired quantity, from 100 to 2,000 pounds 
 or more at a heat. If the mass is balled up, 
 squeezed, and passed through roller it ij 
 
36 
 
 MINING INDUSTEY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 bar iron of superior quality. If the time of 
 the process is extended one liour, or even 
 less, the iron absorbs carbon from the blast 
 and becomes a light sponge of steel, which 
 melts in the crucible or steel puddling fur- 
 nace, and is cast into ingots of sound and pure 
 metal. If continued still longer larger quan- 
 tities of carbon are absorbed and the mass is 
 converted into cast iron. The steel and cast 
 iron as well as the bar iron are of su[)erior 
 quality, and remarkable tenacity and strength. 
 Steel is made in this process in eight hours 
 from crude ore to finished bar ; and bar iron 
 in little more than half that time. It is re- 
 quisite to the success of the jM-ocess that the 
 carbon should be pulverized to an impalpa- 
 ble powder of the last degree of fineness, that 
 thus infinitely subdivided and blown upon 
 the mass it may carry condensed upon its 
 surface nearly oxygen enough to consume 
 it, and thus produce extreme rapidity, in- 
 tensity, and thoroughness of combustion. 
 This pulveriz.ation is effected, for the first 
 time, by an ingenious machine invented by 
 Messrs. AVhelpley & Storer. What Messrs. 
 Whelpley& Storer accomplish by their great 
 blow-pipe and minute pulverization of car- 
 bon, Mr. C. W. Siemens effects in an en- 
 tirely different way b}^ his regenerating fur- 
 nace ; an apparatus requiring, in the first 
 place, a somewhat more extensive .and costly 
 structure, but in the end accomplishing the 
 same result of producing a rapid and intense 
 heat and an atmos])here of oxide of carbon 
 with a comparatively small expenditure of 
 fuel. The necessity that tiie furnace linings 
 should be almost absolutely indestructible by 
 the intense heat generated makes the first 
 cost of a regenerating furnace very heav}'. 
 
 There are three distinct principles em- 
 bodied in the Siemens' furnace, viz: the 
 application of gaseous fuel ; the regeneration 
 of heat by means of piles of bricks alternately 
 passed over by the waste gases and by the 
 atmospheric air entering the furnace before 
 their combustion ; and the chemical action of 
 these gases in combining with the impurities 
 of the ore or the pig iron, and in modifying 
 the quantity of carbon in combination with 
 the iron, for the production of steel. 
 
 The gas [)roducer is a brick chamber of 
 convenient size, say six feet wide by twelve 
 long, with its front wall inclined at an angle 
 of 4,5'^ to 60'^, .according to the nature of the 
 fuel used. The inclined plane is solid about 
 half way down, and below this it is con- 
 structed as a grate with horizontal bars. It 
 
 is what is called a base-burner, the openings 
 for introducing the coal being on the top or 
 roof of this chamber, and the air which en- 
 ters through the grate effects the combustion 
 of the coal at the lowest points of the cham- 
 ber. The products of this combustion rise 
 and are decomposed by the superposed strata 
 of coal above them ; they are, moreover, 
 mixed with a quantity of steam which is 
 drawn in through the grate from a constant 
 supply of water maintained underneath the 
 latter. The steam in contact with the in- 
 candescent coal also decomposes and produ- 
 ces hydrogen and carbonic oxide gas, which 
 are mixed with the gases produced by the 
 coal direct. The whole volume of these 
 gases is then conducted to the furnace itself 
 by means of wrought iron pipes. The gases 
 enter one of the regenerators. The regen- 
 erators are chambers packed with fire-bricks, 
 which are built up in walls, with interstices 
 and air-spaces between them (cob-house fash- 
 ion as we sliould say) allowing of a free pas- 
 sage of gas around each brick. Each regen- 
 erator consists of two adjoining chambers of 
 this kind, with air-passages parallel to each 
 other, one passage destined for the gaseous 
 fuel, and the other for the supply of atmos- 
 pheric air required for combustion. Each 
 furnace has two such regeneratoi's, and a 
 set of valves is provided in the main passa- 
 ges or flues, which permit of directing the 
 gases from the producer to the bottom of 
 either of the two regenerators. The gases 
 after passing one regenerator arrive at the 
 furnace, where they are mixed with the air 
 di-awn in at the same time, and produce a 
 flame of great heat and intensity within the 
 body of the furnace itself. They then pass, 
 after combustion, into the second regenerator 
 which forms a set of down flues for the waste 
 gases, .and ultimately leads them off into a 
 common chimney. On their way from the 
 furnace to the cliimney the heated products 
 of combustion raise the temperature of the 
 fire-bricks, over which they pass, to a very 
 high degree, and the gases are so much 
 cooled that, at the base of the chimney, they 
 do not produce a temperature of much more 
 than 300" Fahrenheit. After a certain time 
 the fire-bricks close to the furnace obtain a 
 temperature almost equal to that of the fur- 
 nace itself, and a gr.adually diminishing tem- 
 perature exists in the bricks of the regenera- 
 tor proportionate to their distance from the 
 furnace. At this moment the .attendant, by 
 reversing the different valves of the furnace. 
 
IRON. 
 
 37 
 
 opens the heated regenerator for the entrance 
 of the gaseous fuel' and atmospheric air, at 
 the same time connecting the other regen- 
 erator with the chinniey for taking off tlie 
 products of combustion. The entire current 
 of gases through the furnace is thus reversed. 
 Tlie cold air from tiie atmosphere, and the 
 comparatively cold gases from the producer, 
 in passing over bricks of gradually increas- 
 ing temperature as they approach tlie furnace 
 become intensely heated, and when they are 
 mixed in the furnace itself, enter into com- 
 bustion under the most favorable circumstan- 
 ces for the production of an intense heat, often 
 rising to 4000° Fahreidieit in the furnace. 
 By changing the relative proportion of air 
 and gas admitted through the flues, the na- 
 ture of the flame may be altered at will. A 
 surplus of oxygen from the introduction of 
 more than half the volume of atmospheric 
 air will produce an oxidizing flame, suited to 
 the production of very pure bar iron. By 
 the admission of a surplus of gas, on the con- 
 trarj', the flame can be made of a reductive 
 character and used accordingly for deoxida- 
 tion. 
 
 Berard's process for making steel by gas, 
 directly from pig iron, or ore, requires the 
 Siemens furnace, which he constructs with 
 the bottom formed into two parts each hol- 
 lowed out like a dish, with a bridge between 
 them, upon which the pigs introduced into 
 the furnace receive a preliminary heating. 
 The flame is maintained with a surplus of 
 oxygen, and a quantity of pig iron is melted 
 in one of the chambers or dishes. The oxi- 
 dizing action of the flame decarbonizes and 
 refines the pig iron, and after a certain time 
 a second quantity of pigs is thrown into 
 the second dish and melted there. The flame 
 is now reversed in its direction ; the oxidiz- I 
 ing flame is made to enter at tlie side where 
 the fresh pig is placed. In passing over this, 
 and oxidizing the carbon, silicon, and other 
 impurities in the iron, the flame loses its sur- 
 plus oxygen, and becomes of a neutral, or at 
 least onl}' slightly oxidizing character. In 
 this state it passes over the other bath of 
 molten iron, now partly refined, and it con- 
 tinues to act upon the impurities without at- 
 tacking the iron itself. At a certain moment 
 this portion of iron is completely converted 
 into steel, and that part of the furnace is then 
 tapped, so as to make room for a fresh charge 
 of pigs in that place. After that, the current 
 of gases is again reversed, the second bath j 
 now entering into the position previously 
 
 taken by the first, and so the process is car- 
 ried on continuously with two portions of 
 iron — one freshly introduced and acted upon 
 by the oxidizing flame, the other partly con- 
 verted into steel and exposed to the neutral 
 flame passing away from the first. M. Be- 
 rard states that bj' protracting his process, 
 and by adding spiegeleisen he can remove 
 sulphur and phosphorus from the iron, and 
 make steel from inferior pigs. 
 
 The Messrs. Martin of SLreuil, France, 
 have, with a Siemens furnace, succeeded in 
 melting with pig iron, old iron rails, wrought 
 iron scrap, puddled steel, &c., in the propor- 
 tion of two-thirds old rails to one-third pig 
 iron, and have made from the compound an 
 excellent and low-priced steel for rails. 
 
 Mr. Siemens himself patented, in 1868, 
 and has since that time worked, a process for 
 making natural or " raw" steel directly from 
 the ore by means of a modification of his 
 furnace. This can onlj' be done successfully 
 it is said by the use of the purest and best 
 ores. Of other processes we may mention 
 that of Mr. James Henderson, an eminent 
 founder, of Brooklyn, N. Y., who, using the 
 Bessemer process, has improved it by charg- 
 ing the blast furnace with a mixture of iron 
 and Manganese ores, or any of the INIanga- 
 niferous iron ores, thus incorporating the 
 indispensable manganese, and causing it to 
 exert its beneficial influence in purifying and 
 refining the iron, at the beginning, instead 
 of the end of the pneumatic process. 
 
 Mr. John Ileaton of Nottingham, England, 
 has been successful in oxidizing and remov- 
 ing the carbon and other impurities with 
 great rapidity by the use of nitrate of soda 
 with the molten metal in the following way : 
 The '• converter " consists of a large wrought 
 iron pot, lined with fire clay ; into the bot- 
 tom of this a suitable quantity (about 6 per 
 cent, usually of the weight of the pig iron or 
 ore), of crude nitrate of soda combined with 
 silicious sand, is introduced, and the whole 
 covered with a cast-iron perforated plate. 
 The molten pig is then poured in and in 
 about two minutes the reaction commences ; 
 at first, brown nitrous flimes are evolved, 
 and after a lapse of five or six minutes, a 
 violent deflagration occurs attended with a 
 loud roaring noise, and a burst from the top 
 of the chimney of brilliant yellow flame, 
 which, in about a minute and a half subsides 
 as rapidly as it commenced. When all has 
 become tranquil the converter is detached 
 fi'om the cliimney and its contents emptied 
 
38 
 
 MINING INDUSTUY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 upon the iron pavement of the foundry. The 
 steel thus produced is pronounce<l by eminent 
 metallurgists of excellent quality and prac- 
 tically free from impurities (the sodium com- 
 bining with the sulphur and pliosphonis), 
 and it was satisfactorily demoustrated tliat 
 uniformity of quality was attainable. The 
 process is much more rapid than any other, 
 but -Mr. Bessemer asserts that the addition of 
 the nitrate of soda makes the cost of a ton of 
 steel about five dollars more than by liis 
 method. Mr. Ilargreaves has patented a 
 modification of this process, combining the 
 nitrate of soda willi hematite ore to form a 
 paste, and claims that lie thus obtains addi- 
 tional supply of oxygen. He states that he 
 can make refined iron for puddling by the 
 use of about 3 per cent, of nitraie of soda 
 and six per cent, of hematite ; steel by eight 
 to ten per cent, of nitrate of soda and an 
 equal weight of binoxide of manganese, and 
 the best quality of wrought iron. 
 
 JMr F. Kolin, an P^nglish steel manufac- 
 turer, had, in 1868, made use of the Siemens 
 regenerating furnace by a new process, melt- 
 ing a gi\en quantity of the best and finest 
 wrought iron in a bath of molten cast iron, 
 carried to the highest heat of that furnace 
 and thus making a pure steel at one heat 
 without ])uddling or cementation. By his 
 process old railroad iron, scrap iron, and ^crap 
 steel, can be converted at once into steel of 
 the best quality for rails. 
 
 A Mv. Wilson, of Stockton-on-Tees, Eng- 
 land, has patented a modification of the Sie- 
 mens furnace which attains the same object 
 with a still greater saving of fuel, by forcing 
 air into the flue-bridge by a steam-jet, and 
 causing it to pass into a conduit at the back 
 of the furnace, and thence into the flame- 
 bridge and up into a chamber from which, in 
 a red-liol condition, it passes into and on to 
 tjie iiieanilesceiit fuel. By this improvement 
 there is no necessity of grate-bars to the fur- 
 nace, most of the fettling is saved, the steam 
 from the heated water is at once decomposed 
 and adds its quota to tlie intensity of the heat 
 which burns up all tiie smoke an<l nearly all 
 the cinder and slag. The saving in fuel is 
 said to be about one-third over the Siemens 
 furnace, and the heat is all applied directly 
 to the removal of impurities and slag from 
 the ores and cast iron. 
 
 The Shoenberger Junta TTorks, at Pitts- 
 burgh, Pa., have patented a method of mak- 
 ing refined iron and steel by a new process 
 which is both simple and ingenious, melting 
 
 in a blast furnace a quantity of crude cast 
 iron of whatever quality they may have, they 
 run it into a large kettle of a capacity of five 
 tons and thence from it in a stream about a 
 foot wide into a circular revolving troogli, 
 twelve inches wide and ten inches deep and 
 let fall upon the molten inet.nl from a hopper, 
 pulverized iron ore. Lake Superior, Cham- 
 plain, or Iron mountain, in sufficient quantity 
 to cover the melted metal as fast as it is 
 poured in. When the trough is full, and 
 before the iron cools, it is broken up into 
 slabs of suitable size for a heating furnace, 
 when it is only necessary to heat it as blooms 
 are heated, and put it through the machinery 
 to produce the best qualitv of horse-shoe bars, 
 or by a slight variation of the process, ex- 
 cellent steel. 
 
 Mr. David Stewart, of Kittaniny, Pa., has 
 patented a method of freeing cast iron from 
 its carbon, sulphur, phosphorus, &c., by pour- 
 ing the molted metal at full heat from a 
 height of perliaps thirty feet in a thin stream 
 or shower upon the ground in such a way as 
 that it shall receive the action of atmospheric 
 air over its entire surface, or if preferred, 
 through a cylinder thirty feet or more in 
 height, and open at both ends, into which air 
 is constantly forced. He claims to have 
 tested this process very thoroughly and to be 
 capable of making pure iron or steel by it 
 without puddling and without retaining any 
 cinder or impurities. Messrs. J. U. Bradley 
 and M. D. Brown of Chicago, 111., patented 
 in 1868 eight recipes of ingredients to be 
 added to melted scrap or malleable iron 
 which they claimed would produce in each 
 case the precise kind of steel wanted, and of 
 the best quality. A Mr. J. Edwin Sherman, 
 formerly a blacksmiih of ]5ucksport. Me., but 
 more recently a Government clerk at Wa^h- 
 ington, D. C, is s.aid to have hit upon a 
 method of converting iron into steel of great 
 simplicity and chea.pness, and, in the autumn 
 of 1870, went by invitation lo England to hay 
 his process before the lords of the Admii ally. 
 
 Among the most remarkable discoveries 
 of the present day, in relation to the manu- 
 fticture of iron, we must count those by which 
 iron ores, hitherto regarded as worthless, have 
 proved either by new processes or by mix- 
 ture with other ores, or with cast iron, the 
 best of all factors for producing the purest 
 wrought iron and steel. Thus far there are 
 two of these instances worthy of special no- 
 tice. In the township of North Codorus, 
 York Co., Pa., there are extensive beds of a 
 
IRON. 
 
 39 
 
 peculiar micaceons iron ore ; some of which 
 were opened in 1854 or 1855, and attempts 
 were made to make iron from them, but tlie 
 ore contained but 41.5 per cent, of magnetic 
 iron, and its reduction, owing to its peculiar 
 combination, was attended with much laltor 
 and no protit ; the ore beds were therefore 
 abandoned. In 18G8, it was discovered by 
 accident that this unpromising ore, mixed 
 with cast or pig iron of ordinary quality in 
 the proportion of one to five or six in a re- 
 verberating furnace, produced by the ordin- 
 ary pu<ldling process, a pure steel of admira- 
 ble (piality ami remarkably uniform in char- 
 acter. Ila\ing tested this by a very great 
 number of experiments the discoverers pur- 
 chased the Codorus ore beds, and put up a 
 puddling furnace and rolling mill at York to 
 carry on the business of making steel for 
 railway rails, and other purposes. The an- 
 alysis of the Codorus ore, as made by the 
 eminent practical chemist, Otto Wurth, of 
 Pittsburg, is as follows : 
 
 Silica, 37.35 Potash, 1.87 
 
 Alumina, 3.21 Magnetic Iron, 41. .'57 
 
 Manganese, 4.45 Peroxide of Iron, 10.46 
 
 Lime, .74 Water and LoiS, .35 
 
 100.06 
 Further experiments, conducted under the 
 eye (f the veteran iron master, J. N. Wins- 
 low, satisfied the owners of the ore that they 
 could safely dispense with the puddling pro- 
 cess and [)roiluce directly from the ore and 
 cast iron the very best quality of steel. We 
 have ourselves examined the steel and the 
 wrought iron produced by this combination, 
 and in every test to wliich it can be subject- 
 ed, wliether of tenacity, tensile strength, 
 hardness, elasticity, or capacity of receiving 
 and retaining the highest temper, it is unsur- 
 passed by any steel or iron known to manu- 
 facturers. Whether wrought iron and steel 
 can be made without puddling from a com- 
 bination of this ore with other ores of good 
 quality has not yet been ascertained, but we 
 believe that it will. By the processes at 
 present employed, the best of steel can be 
 made with the use of fifteen or twenty per 
 cent, of this ore at a cost of not above $70 
 or S75 per ton, and possibly lower. 
 
 Of the other ore, found at Port Leyden, 
 Lewis Co., N. Y., still more remarkable 
 things are stated. The following account 
 of the ores and process of reduction, made in 
 the New York Tribune, is believed to be 
 fully authenticated. The steel is certainly 
 of excellent quality 
 *3 
 
 " The discovery of an inexhaustible bed 
 of iron ore at Port Leyden, Lewis County, 
 about 40 miles above Utica, a few years ago, 
 tempted citizens of the latter-named place to 
 invest about $500,000 in the efibrt to estab- 
 lish the manufacture of iron there. The 
 ' Port Leyden Iron Works ' were a sad ftiil- 
 ure, and the entire amount of money invested 
 in them was lost, as pig iron could not be 
 produced from the ore. From this impracti- 
 cable ore, steel is now produced, at one fus- 
 ion, by a process invented by Prof. E. L. 
 Seymour, a metallurgist and chemist, who 
 resides in this vicinity. The outlines of the 
 process are as follows : The ore is crushed, 
 in something like-an ordinary quartz-crusher, 
 until it is reduced to about the fineness of 
 rifle powder. It is then thrown into a re- 
 volving cylinder, in which are set numer- 
 ous magnets. The ore is of the kind known 
 as ' magnetic' By an arrangement oi small 
 brushes, the metallic particles are separated 
 from the refuse, which is principally stony 
 and earthy matter in the shape of fine dust. 
 The application of certain chemicals and 
 fusion by charcoal are the next steps in the 
 process, and the immediate product is pure 
 steel, ready for mokling into 'ingots. Speci- 
 mens of steel thus manufactured and con- 
 verted into finely-tempered table cutlery, 
 and other articles, and the certificate of a 
 well-known cutler of Brooklyn, who made 
 the articles, that it is as good steel as he ever 
 worked, and adapted to all cutlery purposes, 
 have been exhibited. The estimated cost of 
 this steel is less than four cents. By the 
 Seymour process, it is claimed that the aim 
 of iron-masters and chemists for the last 200 
 years is accomplished — viz : to rid iron of 
 its arch enemies, sulphur and pliosphorus — 
 the former rendering the metal what is tech- 
 nically called ' red-short,' so that it flies to 
 pieces under the hammer when at a red heat, 
 though it may be quite strong when cold ; 
 while the least quantity of phosphorus ren- 
 ders the metal ' cold-short,' making it weak 
 and brittle when cold, though quite strong 
 when hot. 
 
 " The Port Leyden AVorks are about one- 
 eighth of a mile from the railroad and the 
 canal. The buildings, fiu'naces, etc., were 
 erected several years ago at great expense ; 
 and for some time there have lain in the 
 forest near by nearly 100,000 bushels of 
 charcoal, the overplus of what was made be- 
 fore it was found that iron could not be pro- 
 duced from the ore by the old processes." 
 
40 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 It has recently been discovered that there 
 are extensive veins of a peculiar coal, called 
 block coal in Indiana, which is remarkably 
 adapted to the production of the best iron. 
 In its constituents and its working, it is very 
 nearly a pure charcoal and containing nei- 
 ther sulphur nor pliospiiorus, it does not im- 
 part to iron in tlie smelting process any in- 
 gredient which impairs its value. These 
 veins of block coal are of great thickness, 
 and extend widely over the central and 
 southern part of the state. It has not thus 
 far been discovered in any other state. In- 
 diana has no great variety of iron ores, but 
 her railroad facilities present, and prospec- 
 tive, for bringing the Missouri ores from 
 Pilot Knob and Iron Mountain and the rich 
 hematitic ores from tlie Lake Superior re- 
 gion in Mich'gan, are such that with this 
 excellent coal, her citizens can manufacture 
 the finest qualities of inm and steel at con- 
 siderably lower prices than they can be pro- 
 duced for, elsewhere. As a consequence 
 numerous furnaces have been erected in 
 1870 and 1871, along the line of the block 
 coal veins, and many more are now going 
 up. Tlie improved |)rocesses and new discov- 
 eries to which we jjave alluded, while they 
 will materially reduce the cost of making 
 tteel, do not, thus far, greatly lower the cost 
 of producing iion, exce]it in Indiana, .and 
 hence the reduction of ten per cent, on iron 
 and iron manufactures m the new tariff of 
 1.S72, may impede the progress of this de- 
 sirable manufacture, now fast attaining to 
 the first rank among our national produc- 
 tions. 
 
 rhough the total production of pig iron 
 each year is now very definitely ascertained, 
 there is more difficulty in learning the de- 
 tails of the oilier branches of iron manufac- 
 ture. The rolling mills are really unceasing 
 in numbers and in their aggregate production 
 of rails lioth iron and steel, but the re-roll- 
 ing of old r.ails is a large and yet very vari- 
 able item in their annual amount of work, 
 and it is difficult to a.'^certain with any con- 
 siderable exactness what number of tons of 
 new rails are producetl by each mill. The 
 aggregate product in 1871 was stated in 
 round numbers at about 275,000 tons of 
 iron and 180,000 tons of steel rails. This 
 latter item will, undoubtedly, be largely 
 increased during the present and coming 
 years. 
 
 Sheet Iron. — For making sheet iron the 
 
 bars are gradually spread out between smooth 
 rolls, which arc brought nearer together as 
 tlie metal grows thinner. The Russians have 
 a method of giving to sheet iron a beautifully 
 polished surf^ice, and a pliability and dura- 
 bility which no other people have been able 
 to imitate. All attempts that have been 
 made to learn the secret of this process have 
 entirely failed, and the business remains a 
 monopoly with the Russians. The nearest 
 imitation of this iron is produced at I'itts- 
 burg, Pennsylvania, and several eastern estab- 
 lishments, by what is called Wood's process. 
 This consists in rolling the common sheet at 
 a certain temperature while it is covered 
 with linseed oil. A very fine surface is thus 
 produced, but the pliability and toughness 
 of the Russian iron are wanting, even though 
 the sheets are often annealed in close vessels, 
 and the glaze and color are also inferior. 
 Sheet iron is now extensively prepared for 
 roofing, and other uses requiring exposure to 
 the weather, by protecting its surface with a 
 coating of zinc. This application is an 
 American invention, having been discovered 
 in 1827, by the late I'rof'john W. Revere, 
 of New York. In .March, 1859, he exhibited, 
 at a meeting of the Lyceum of Natural His- 
 tory, specimens of iron thus protected, which 
 had been exposed for two years to the action 
 of salt water without rusting. He recom- 
 mended it as a means of protecting the iron 
 fastenings of ships, and introduced the proc- 
 ess into Great Britain. Sheets thus coated 
 are known as galvanized iron, though the 
 iron is now coated with zinc by other means 
 as well as by the galvanic current. One 
 method, that of Mallet, is to place the 
 sheets, after they are well cleaned by acid 
 and scrubbed with emery and sand, in a satu- 
 rated solution of liydrochlorate of zinc and 
 sulphate of ammonia; and after this in a 
 bath composed of 202 parts of niercurv and 
 1,292 of zinc, to every ton weight of which 
 a pound of potassium or sodium is added. 
 The compound fuses at 680° Fahrenheit, 
 and the zinc is immediately deposited upon 
 the iron surface. Another method is to stir 
 the sheets in a bath of melted zinc, the sur- 
 face of which is covered with sal ammoniac. 
 The use of heavy sheets or plates for build- 
 ing purposes is also a recent application of 
 iron, that adds considerably to the demand 
 for the metal. The plates are stiffened by 
 the fluting, or corrugating, which they re- 
 ceive in a powerful machine, and may be 
 protected by a coating of zinc. Their prep- 
 
IRON. 
 
 41 
 
 aration is larijely carried on in Philadelphia ; 
 and in the same works a great variety of 
 other articles of malleable iron, for domestic 
 and other uses, arc similarly protected with 
 zinc, as window shutters, water and gas 
 pipes, coal scuttles, chains for pumps, bolts 
 for ships' use, hoop iron, and telegraph and 
 other wire. 
 
 Tlie production of the principal boiler-plate 
 and sheet iron establishments of the United 
 States is thus given for the year 1856 : — 
 
 Tens. 
 East of the Delaware there are but twoinills, 
 both of wliioh are in Jersey City. Product 
 
 in 1856 ." 550 
 
 In K. Peuusylvauia, on the ScliuylkiU and 
 
 lower w>usquehaun;i, '25 mills 21.218 
 
 Near Wiluiiii^ton, Delaware, 3 mills 1,374 
 
 Between Wilmington and Baltimore, 1 mills. 2,998 
 Pittsburg, Penn.. 14 mills. Sheet iron. 6,437; 
 boiler iron, 3,212; be.sides bars, rod.s, hoops, 
 
 and nails 9,649 
 
 Sheet iron atthe Sharon mill, MercerCo. Penn. 500 
 Bloom mill, Portsmouth, S. Ohio, and Globe 
 
 mill, Cincinnati, about 2,000 
 
 38,289 
 A mill for boiler plate has been erected at St. Louis. 
 
 Iron Wire. — The uses of iron wire have 
 greatly increased within a few years past. 
 The telegraph has created a large demand 
 for it ; and with the demand the manufac- 
 ture has been so much improved, especially 
 in this country, that the wire has been found 
 applicable to many purposes for which brass 
 or copper wire was before required. It is 
 prepared from small rods, which are passed 
 throufrh a succession of holes, of decreasing 
 sizes, made in steel plates, the wire being 
 annealed as often as may be necessary to 
 prevent its becoming brittle. In this branch 
 the American maimfacturers liave attained 
 the highest perfection. The iron prepared 
 from our magnetic and specular ore is un- 
 equalled in the combined qualities of strength 
 and flexibility, and is used almost exclusively 
 for purposes in which those qualities are es- 
 sential. But where stiffness combined with 
 strength is more important, Swedish and 
 Norwegian iron also are used. Much of the 
 iron wire now made is almost as pliable as 
 copper wire, while its strength is about 50 
 per cent, greater. In Worcester, Mass., a 
 large contract has been satisfactorily filled 
 for No. 10 wire, one of the conditions of 
 which was that the wire, when cold, might 
 be tightly wound around .another wire of the 
 same size without cracking or becoming 
 rouffh on the surface. Such wire is an ex- 
 
 cellent material for ropes, and considerable 
 American iron is already required for this 
 use, especially for suspension bridges. AVires 
 are also used for fences, and are ingeniously 
 woven into ornamental patterns. The so- 
 called " netting fence," thus made, can be 
 rolled up like a carpet. For heavier railing 
 and fences, as for the front yards of houses, 
 for balconies, window guards, etc., iron bars 
 and rods are now worked into ornamental 
 open designs, by powerfully crimping them 
 and weaving them together like wires. 
 
 Nails — Among the multitude of other 
 itnportant applications of malleable iron, that 
 of nail making is particularly worthy of no- 
 tice, as being in the machine branch of it — 
 the preparation of cut nails — entirely an 
 American process. Our advance in this de- 
 partment is ascribed to the great demand for 
 nails among ns in the construction of wooden 
 houses. In England, even into the present 
 century, nails were wrought only by hand, 
 employing a large population. In the vi- 
 cinitv of Birmingham it was estimated that 
 60,000 persons were occupied wholly in nail 
 making. Females and children, as well as 
 men, worked in the shop, forging the nails 
 upon anvils, from the "split iron rods" fur- 
 nished for the purpose from the neighboring 
 iron works. The contrast is very striking 
 between their operations and those of the 
 great establishments in Pennsylvania, con- 
 sisting of the blast furnaces, in which the 
 ores are converted into pig ; of the puddling 
 furnaces, in which this is made into wrought 
 iron ; of the rolling and slitting mills, by 
 which the malleable iron is made into nail- 
 plates ; and of the nail machines, which cut 
 up the plates and turn them into nails — all 
 going on consecutively under the same roof, 
 and not allowing time for the iron to cool 
 until it is in the finished state, and single 
 establishments producing more nails than the 
 greater part of the workshops of Birming- 
 ham fifty years ago. Public attention was 
 directed to machine-made nails as long ago 
 as 1810, by a report of the secretary of the 
 treasury, in which he referred to the success 
 already attained in their manufacture in Mas- 
 sachusetts. " Twenty years ago," he states, 
 " some men, now unknown, then in ob- 
 scurity, began by cutting slices out of old 
 hoops, and, by a common vice gripping these 
 pieces, headed them with several strokes of 
 the hammer. By progressive improvements, 
 slitting mills were built, and the shears and 
 the heading tools were perfected, yet much 
 
42 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 labor and expense were requisite to make 
 nails. In a little time, Jacob Perkins, Jona- 
 than Jlllis, and a few others, put into execu- 
 tion the thought of cutting and of heading 
 nails by water ; but being more intent upon 
 their macliinery than upon their pecuniar}' 
 affairs, they were unable to prosecute the 
 business. At different times other men have 
 epent fortunes in improvements, and it may 
 be said with truth that more than a million 
 of dollars have been expended ; but at length 
 these joint efforts are crowned with com- 
 plete success, and we are now able to manu- 
 facture, at about one-third of the expense 
 that wrought nails can be manufactured for, 
 nails which are superior to them for at least 
 three-fourths of the purposes to which nails 
 are applied, and for most of those purposes 
 they are full as good. The machines made 
 use of by Odiorne, those invented by Jona- 
 than Ellis, and a few others, present very 
 fine specimens of American genius." The 
 report then describes the peculiar character 
 of the cut nail — that it was used by northern 
 carpenters without their having to bore a 
 hole to prevent its splitting the wood ; that 
 it would penetrate harder wood than the 
 wrought nail, etc. At that time, it states, 
 there were twelve rolling and slitting mills 
 in Massachusetts, chietly employed in rolling 
 nail plates, making nail rods, hoops, tires, 
 sheet iron, and copj>er, and turning out about 
 3,500 tons, of which about 2,400 tons were 
 cut up into nails and brads. From that time 
 to the present the manufacture of nails by 
 machinery has been a profitable branch of 
 industry in the south-eastern part of Massa- 
 chusetts, the iron and the coal being fur- 
 nished from the middle Atlantic states, and 
 the nails, in great part, finding a market 
 at the south. The following table presents 
 the number of nail mills in operation in 
 1856. The smaller establishments are grad- 
 ually going out of the business, and tiiis is 
 becoming more concentrated in the coal and 
 iron regions, thus saving the cost of trans- 
 portation in these heavy articles. The man- 
 ufacturers of New England, however, ingeni- 
 ously divert a part of their operations to the 
 production of smaller articles, with which 
 the cost of transportation is a less item in 
 proportion to their value, such as tacks, riv- 
 ets, screws, butts, wire, and numerous fin- 
 ished articles, the value of wliich consists 
 more in the labor performed upon them and 
 in the use of ingenious machinery than in 
 the cost of the crude materials employed. 
 
 NAIL FACTORIES IN THE UNITED STATES, AND TBEIR PRO- 
 DLICTION IN IS.'jtJ. 
 
 Tons. 
 In south New England, 12 mills, nails prin- 
 cipally 25,000 
 
 Troy, New York 4,000 
 
 Rockaway, Boonton, New Jersey, nails and 
 
 spikes ' 8,250 
 
 Soulliern New Jersey 4,167 
 
 On llie Scliuylkill. 5 mills, about 9,000 
 
 On tlie lower Susqueliaima, 2 mills, about.. . 2,600 
 
 Middle Pennsylvania, 2 n;ills, about 2.000 
 
 Maryland, 2 mills 2,155 
 
 Richmond, 1 mill- 1,07 5 
 
 Piltslmrp, 14 mills, nails, spikes, rivets, tacks 14,195 
 
 Wheeling, 2 mills 6,465 
 
 Ironton, southern Ohio, 1 mill 775 
 
 Mahoning Co., N. K. Ohio, 1 mill 380 
 
 Buffalo 1,400 
 
 Total 81,462 
 
 The number of nail machines employed in these 
 mills was 2,645. 
 
 A great variety of machines have been 
 devised for nail making, very ingenious in 
 their designs, and all too complicated for 
 description. The iron is rolled out into bars 
 for this manufacture, of 10 or 12 feet in 
 length, and wide enough to make three or 
 more strips, each one of which is as wide as 
 the length of the nail it is to make. The 
 cutting of these strips from the wider bars 
 is the special work of the slitting mill, which 
 is, in fact, but a branch of the rolling opera- 
 tion, and carried on in conjunction witli it. 
 The slitting machine consists of a pair of 
 rolls, one above the other, each having 5 or 
 6 steel disks upon its axis, set as far apart as 
 the width required for the nail-rod. Those 
 upon one roll interlock with those upon the 
 other, so that when the wide bar is intro- 
 duced it is pressed into the grooves above 
 and below, and cut into as many strips as 
 there are spaces between the disks. This 
 work is done with wonderful iaj)idity, several 
 bars being passed through at once. In the 
 nail factory each nail-making machine works 
 upon one of these strips, or nail-rods, at a 
 time, first clipping ott' a piece from the end 
 presented to it, and ininicdiately another, as 
 the flat rod is turned over and the end is 
 again presented to the cutter. The reason 
 of turning it over for each succes.sive cut is 
 because the piece cut off for the nail is 
 tapering, in order to make it a little wider 
 at the end intended for the head than at the 
 other, and thus, making the wider cut on al- 
 ternate sides of the rod, this is regularly 
 worked up into pieces of the proper shape. 
 In the older operations a workman always 
 sat in front of each machine, holding the 
 
IRON. 
 
 43 
 
 rod and turning it over with every clip; but 
 by a modern improvement this work is alsii 
 done by mechanical contrivance. Eacli 
 piece, as fast as it is clipped oft", disappears 
 in the machine. There it is seized between 
 powerful jaws, and the bead is pressed up 
 from the large end by the short, powerful 
 motion imparted to the piece of apparatus 
 called the header. As it is released, it slides 
 down and di'ops upon the floor, or in a vessel 
 placed to receive the nails. 
 
 Machinery has been applied in the United 
 States to tlie manufacture of horse-shoe nails, 
 according to a number of patented plans. 
 Of these, tiie most successful is probably that 
 invented about the year 1848, by Mr. L. G. 
 Reynolds, of Providence ; also the inventor 
 of the solid-he.adod pin. The form of this 
 nail could not be given as in ordinary cut 
 nails by the cutter, but the sides required to 
 be pressed as well as the head. This in- 
 volved the use of movable plates of suitable 
 figure ; and as it was found that the nails 
 could not be shaped except when the metal 
 was softened by heat, the plates must neces- 
 sarily be of the hardest steel, and protected 
 as cll'octually as possible from the effects of 
 constant working of heated iron. These 
 difficulties were fully overcome, and tlie 
 nails, after being turned out, were toughened 
 bv annealing, givinn; them all the excellent 
 qualities of iiand-made nails, with the ad- 
 vantage of perfect uniformity of size, so that 
 one nail answers as well as another for the 
 holes in the horse-shoes. They are, more- 
 over, made with great rapidity, each machine 
 producing half a ton of nails in 12 hours. 
 The process has been taken to Europe, and 
 is there in successful operation. Spikes, also, 
 liave been made ami headed in similar ma- 
 chines ; and among all small articles in iron, 
 none, perhaps, has proved so profitable to 
 the inventor as the liook-headed spike, used 
 for holding down, by its projecting head, the 
 edge of the iron rails to the sill. This was 
 the invention of Mr. Henry liurden, of Troy, 
 whose machines for wrought-iron spikes and 
 fir horse-shoes have also proved very success- 
 ful. By the latter, perfect shoes are turned 
 out at the rate of 60 in a minute. This proc- 
 ess has been introduced in most of the 
 European countries. 
 
 As already remarked, steel differs in com- 
 position from metallic iron only by contain- 
 ing from i to li per cent, of carbon, and 
 
 from cast-iron by the latter containing a 
 larger proportion of carbon, which may 
 amount to 5.5 per cent. To readily convert 
 these varieties into each other is an object 
 of no small importance, for their properties 
 are so entirely distinct, that they really serve 
 the purposes of three difl'erent metals. Steel 
 is particularly valuable for its extreme hard- 
 ness, fine (Train, and compact texture, which 
 admits of its receiving a high polish. It is 
 the most elastic of metals, and mucli less 
 liable to rust than iron. It has the peculiar 
 property of assuming different degrees of 
 hardness, according to the rapidity with 
 which it is chilled when heated ; and it may 
 be melted and run into moulds like cast iron, 
 and the ingots thus prepared may be ham- 
 mered, rolled, and forged into shapes like 
 wrought iron ; and these may finally be tem- 
 pered to any degree of hardness desired. 
 Dift'ering so little in composition from me- 
 tallic iron and from cast iron, and being 
 so universally in demand for a multitude of 
 uses, it would seem that it ought to be pro- 
 duced as cheaply as one or the other of the 
 varieties, between which its composition 
 places it. But this is far from being the 
 case. While pig iron is worth only $20 to 
 $.')0 per ton, and bar iron $60 to $90, ca.st 
 steel in bars is worth from $250 to $300 per 
 ton. This is chiefly owing to the difficulty 
 of procuring in large quantities steel of uni- 
 form character, which the consumers of the 
 article can purchase with perfect confidence 
 that it is what they require and liave been 
 accustomed to use. The English boast, with 
 good reason, of the position they occupy in 
 this manufacture, which is almost a monopoly 
 of the steel trade of the whole world. Though 
 producing themselves little or no iron fit lor 
 making alone the best steel, they have im- 
 ported enough of the Swedish and Norwe- 
 gian bar iron to insure a good quality, and 
 have been especially cautious to render this 
 as uniform as possible. Their method of 
 manufacture is to introduce carbon into the 
 wrought iron by what is called the cementing 
 process. On the continent of Europe steel 
 is made to some extent, in Silesia and Styria, 
 by removing from cast iron enough of its 
 carbon to leave the proper proportion for 
 steel, and then melting the product and cast- 
 
 in<r it into in^ot moulds. But this cheaper 
 
 111 
 method does not appear to have been taken 
 
 up in Great Britain. In the United States 
 
 several processes are in operation, two of 
 
 which are peculiarly American. The ce- 
 
44 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 menting method, as conducted in England, 
 has been longest known, and will be first de- 
 scribed. The cementing furnace is a sort of 
 oven, furnished with troughs or shelves, upon 
 which cliarcoal dust is laid for receiving the 
 bars. These are placed edgewise in the 
 charcoal, half an inch apart, and the spaces 
 arc filled in with more sifted coal. Enough 
 is added to cover the bars, and upon this a 
 second tier is laid in the same way, and so 
 on till the trough is filled with several tons 
 of iron, all of whicli is perfectly excluded 
 from the air. The trough being secured 
 with others in the oven, a fire is started 
 under them. In about six days the bars 
 Lave absorbed enough carbon to acquire the 
 properties of the softer kinds of steel, such 
 a-s are used for saws and springs. In a day 
 or two longer it answers for cutting instru- 
 ments, and some time after this it gains in 
 hardness, so as to be fitted for cold chisels, 
 for drills such as miners use, etc. Its 
 character is ascertained at any time by 
 drawing out one of the bars. After the 
 change is ett'ected the fire is oxtinguislied, 
 and about a week is allowed for the furnace 
 and its contents to cool. When at last the 
 bars are obtained, their surface is found to be 
 covered with blisters, whence the steel is 
 called blistered steel. The fibrous texture 
 of the iron lias given place to a granular 
 structure, but is so irregular and uneven that 
 the metal requires further treatment to per- 
 fect it. To make the English sliear-steel, so 
 called from its being originally employed for 
 shears used in sheep-shearing, the bars are 
 cut into lengths of a foot and a half, and 
 a number of these are bound together to 
 make a faggot. This is brouglit to a weld- 
 ing heat, and drawn down first under a forge- 
 hammer, and then under the tilt-hammer. 
 This weighs from 150 to 200 pounds, and 
 strikes from 150 to 360 strokes a minute. 
 The rapidity of the work keeps the steel at 
 a glowing heat, and it is soon fashioned into 
 a dense bar of smooth surface, susceptible 
 of a polish, and suited for the manufacture 
 of cutting instruments. Soinetimos it is cut 
 into pieces to be refuggoted, and drawn down 
 again into bars, which are then called double- 
 shear. 
 
 Cast steel is a still more dense and perfect 
 variety. It is prepared by melting, in large 
 crucibles, blistered steel broken into small 
 pieces, and pouring the metal into moulds. 
 These are then worked into shapes by the 
 forge hammer and the rolls. 
 
 The American methods of making steel 
 were discovered by Prof. A. K. Eaton, of 
 New York, and the one now employed by the 
 Damascus Steel Company was practically 
 demonstrated by liim in liochester and its vi- 
 cinity in 1851 and 1852. This consists in car- 
 bonizing and melting malleable iron in cruci- 
 bles at one operation, by introducing into the 
 pot with the pieces of iron a carbonaceous salt, 
 such as the ferro-cyanide of potassium, either 
 ah>ne or in combination with charcoal powder. 
 At an intense heat this salt rapidly carbon- 
 izes the iron, wliich thus first becomes steel, 
 then fuses, and is poured into moulds. The 
 quantity of the salt employed is proportional 
 to the quantity of the iron and the quality 
 of the steel required. The operation is suc- 
 cessfully carried on in difl'erent establish- 
 ments in New Jersey, New York, and Penn- 
 sylvania, and cast steel of the very best 
 quality is produced at less expense than the 
 article has ever before cost in this country. 
 For bar steel, according to the prospectus of 
 the company, the best charcoal-made iron is 
 employed, costing |>86 per ton, and this, to- 
 gether with the coal used for fuel, the cliem- 
 ical materials, the melting, crucibles, and 
 hammering, make the whole cost about $142 
 per ton, while that of the imported article is 
 i>300 or more. The great difficulty in the 
 process is to obtain suitable crucibles for 
 withstanding the intense heat required to 
 melt the charge of 60 lbs. of malleable iron. 
 Those in use are blue-pots, costing $1.60 
 each. Though made of the best of plum- 
 bago, they stand only two or three meltings. 
 
 The other process, which is just now in- 
 troduced into practice, is based upon the prop- 
 erty of carbonate of soda to remove from cast 
 iron the carbon it contains, when the metal is 
 kept for a few hours in a bath of the melted 
 alkali. The decarbonizing ett'ect is in part due 
 to the action of the oxygon of the alkaline 
 base, which is given up to the carbon of highly 
 heated cast iron, but principally to the decom- 
 position of the combined carbonic acid, which 
 gives to the carbon one of its atoms of oxygen, 
 and is resolved into carbonic oxide. This prop- 
 erty of soda was discovero<l by Prof. Eaton in 
 1856, but the fact that the carbonated or bi- 
 carbonated alkalies act principally by virtue 
 of their carbonic acid, was only recently rec- 
 ognized and made practically available by 
 him. The action of soda or its carbonates is 
 not limited to the removal of the excess of 
 carbon in ca.st iron. It combines with and 
 removes those impurities which would prove 
 
45 
 
 fatal to the quality of the steel if remaining 
 in it, as sulphur, phosphorus, and silicon ; 
 and the method thus admits of the use of 
 crude irons, such as could never be applied 
 to this manufacture by an}- other mode. 
 The cast iron, in the form of thin plates, hav- 
 ing been kept at a bright red heat in the 
 bath of melted carbonate for a sufficient time, 
 ■which is determined by occasionally taking 
 out and testing some of the pieces, is trans- 
 ferred to the crucible, and is then melted 
 and poured into moulds, as in the ordinary 
 method of making cast steel. The crucibles, 
 not being subjected to greater heat than is 
 required for melting cast steel, endure much 
 longer than when employed for melting 
 wrought iron in the carbonizing process ; 
 tlms a great saving is etl'ected in the expense 
 of the conversion ; and this economy is still 
 further increased by the use of a crude ma- 
 terial, costing only from 5-20 to $30 per ton, 
 in place of the superior qualities of wrought 
 iron, worth |i85 per ton. So great, indeed, 
 is the saving, that tlie cost of the cast steel, 
 when obtained in ingots, is found not to ex- 
 
 ceed the cost of the malleable iron employed 
 in the other process. 
 
 Statistics. — The records of the produc- 
 tion of iron of the United States arc very in- 
 complete up to the year 1854. Even the cen- 
 sus returns are highly defective, as they often 
 make no distinction between iron made 
 from the ore and the products of the second- 
 ary operations of remelting and puddling. 
 The first systematic attempts to obtain com- 
 plete accounts of the business, as conducted 
 in Pennsylvania, were made in 1850 by the 
 Association of Iron Manufacturers, organized 
 in Philadelphia. Mr. Charles E. Smith col- 
 lected the returns, and published them in a 
 small volume, together with other papers re- 
 lating to the manufacture. In 1850 the as- 
 sociation, through their secretary, Mr. J. P. 
 Lesley, and their treasurer, Mr. C. E. Smith, 
 obtained full returns from 832 blast furnaces, 
 488 forges, and 225 rolling mills in the Unit- 
 ed States, besides others in Canada, exhibit- 
 ing their operations for the preceding three 
 years. Some of these results are presented 
 in the following tables : — 
 
 NO 1.— TABLE OF IRON WORKS IN OPERATION AND ABANDONED IN 1858. 
 
 ^^ .*'^'^"f ^ AbftDdoned Bloomary Abandoned Refinery Abandoned Rollins . t . . 
 nnd Loke r.„r_.„„. Pure,.,. Bloomaries. Forees. Kefln«i-iea. mj,," Abandoned. 
 
 Anthracite 
 Furnaces. 
 
 Maine 
 
 New Hampsliire 
 
 Vermon t 
 
 Massachusetts 3 
 
 Rhode Island 
 
 Connecticut 1 
 
 New York 14 
 
 New Jersey 4 
 
 Pennsylvania 93 
 
 Delaware 
 
 Maryland G 
 
 Virginia 
 
 North Carolina 
 
 South Carolina 
 
 Georgia 
 
 Alabama 
 
 Tennessee 
 
 Kentucky 
 
 Ohio 
 
 Indiana 
 
 Illinois 
 
 Michigan 
 
 Wisconsin 
 
 Missouri 
 
 Arkansas 
 
 Furnaces. 
 1 
 1 
 5 
 7 
 
 14 
 
 29 
 
 6 
 
 150 
 
 24 
 39 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 7 
 
 3 
 41 
 30 
 54 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 7 
 
 3 
 
 7 
 
 Furnaces. Forges. Biuomaries. Forges. Kefineries. 
 
 6 
 
 12 
 
 102 
 
 1 
 
 7 
 
 56 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 33 
 
 17 
 
 26 
 
 3 
 
 42 
 
 48 
 1 
 
 36 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 
 14 
 
 50 
 
 1 
 
 29 
 3 
 
 6 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 110 
 
 43 
 
 44 
 
 Mills. 
 1 
 
 1 
 19 
 
 2 
 
 5 
 11 
 10 
 91 
 
 4 
 13 
 12 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 15 
 1 
 1 
 2 
 
 Total 121 439 272 206 35 186 64 210 
 
 In working order, 560 Furnaces, 389 Forges, 210 Rolling Mills. Total, 1,159 
 Abandoned, 272 " 99 " 15 " " 386 
 
 16 
 
 In all, 832 " 488 
 
 The production of the blast furnaces in the 
 different iron districts for the years 1854, 
 1855, and 1856, is exhibited in Table No. 
 
 225 " " 1,545 
 
 2 ; their arrangement being according to tho 
 fuel employed and the quantities of iron 
 produced in each district in 1856 : — 
 
46 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Fuel. 
 
 TABLE NO. 2.— PRODUCTION OF PIG IRON. 
 District. 1854. 
 
 Anthracite Pcnnsylvftnia 209.603 
 
 ** Out orPcnniiylvania 99.007 
 
 Charcoal and Coke S. Oliin 56,lHl ) -n 
 
 K.Kentucky 22.929)"'' 
 
 " " " W. I'ennsylvania 78 9-'7 I 
 
 ' N Oliic. 11,2S9| 
 
 " " " E. I'ennsylvania 62,724 
 
 Charcoiil W Tciini-ssee 37,«18"| 
 
 W K.ntucliy 12,236 
 
 " S. Indiana 1,400 
 
 " 8. Illincris 1,500 
 
 Charcoal and Cdke 9. W. Pennsylvania 11.0.")2 
 
 N.W.Virginia 1,9,30 
 
 " '• " Maryland '80,6.' 
 
 Charcoal E. of the Hudson 30.420 
 
 N. and W. New York 19.197 
 
 " Missouri 7,591 
 
 " 8. New York and N. New Jersey 13,485 
 
 " K. and Middle Virginia ii,SSO 
 
 " North and South Carolina 1.820 
 
 " Oeorgia 2,8915- M56 
 
 " E Tennessee and Alabama. 
 
 " Micliipm 990 
 
 " Wisconsin 
 
 ,010 
 90.2 IS 
 
 53,054 
 
 ■ 12,952 
 
 47.9S2 
 Ifi.ISO 
 69.SSS 
 9,92G 
 
 1855. 
 
 .. 255,826 
 87,779 
 
 64,162 
 
 I 69,314 
 
 ... 60,596 
 33,6831 
 
 1^'"''' I 50 .347 
 
 1,600 j 
 
 36,309 
 
 .... 32,826 
 .... 19,736 
 .... 10,181 
 7,901 
 6,926 
 
 1856. 
 .... 806,972 
 .... 87,587 
 T".4''5 I „„ ,,5 
 
 59,597 
 
 17,056 
 
 76,653 
 52,775 
 
 • 50,664 
 
 1,820 ) 1,830 1 1,956 1 
 
 2,891 V 6,056 2.715 V 6,061 2.S07 I 
 
 1,845 ( 1,610 2.931 
 
 Total production of pig iron in the United States Tons 
 
 FOR 
 
 725,823 
 
 ,061 
 9.0 
 
 728,973 
 
 32,16:1 
 14,902 
 
 l.,-00 
 
 l.sooj 
 
 ^j^} 30.867 
 
 .'. . . .30.993 
 
 . . 29,937 
 
 .... IS,S47 
 
 10.138 
 
 5.6W 
 5,730 
 
 7,694 
 
 1,9,56 
 2. 
 
 2. 
 
 3,1 78 I 
 
 2,600 ( 
 
 6,178 
 
 812,799 
 
 TABLE NO. S.— DISTKIBUTION OP THE 
 NAChS BY .STATES. 
 
 I. ANTHRACITE FURNACES. 
 
 No. States. ^t!!Z^- 
 
 3 Massacluisetts 4,443 
 
 1 Conneclicut 
 
 14 New York 41,257 
 
 4 New Jersey 26, 117 
 
 93 Penn.sylvania 300,1)72 
 
 __G Maryland 10,720 
 
 121 394,609 
 
 II. COKE FURNACES. 
 
 Pennsylvania 39,953 
 
 Miirylaiid 4,528 
 
 44,481 
 
 RAW BITUMINOUS COAL FURNACES. 
 
 Pennsylvania 8,417 
 
 Ohio ie,C56 
 
 21 
 
 3 
 
 Ti 
 
 III. 
 6 
 
 19 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 5 
 
 7 
 
 14 
 
 29 
 
 6 
 
 143 
 
 21 
 
 39 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 ■J 
 
 3 
 
 41 
 
 30 
 
 41 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 7 
 
 3 
 
 7 
 
 416 
 
 25,073 
 
 IV. CHARCOAL FURNACES. 
 
 Maine 2,100 
 
 ^ew Hampsliire 
 
 Vermont 2,420 
 
 Massacliusetts 8,564 
 
 Connecticut 12,876 
 
 New Yorli 21,774 
 
 New Jersey 2,100 
 
 Pennsylvania 96,154 
 
 Maryland 26,470 
 
 Virginia 14,828 
 
 North Carolina 450 
 
 Sonlh Carolina 1,506 
 
 Georgia 2,807 
 
 Alabama 1,405 
 
 Tennessee 2.H,476 
 
 Kentucky .... 3G, 563 
 
 Ohio 70,355 
 
 Indiana 1,800 
 
 Illinois 1,900 
 
 Missouri 10,138 
 
 Wiscon.sin 2,500 
 
 Michigan 3,678 
 
 348,954 
 
 No. of Furnaces. Tons. 
 
 Antliracile, as above.. .... .121 394.509 
 
 Coke, " 24 44.481 
 
 Haw Coal, " 19 25.073 
 
 Charcoal, " 416 34S.954 
 
 Total pi? 580 813,017 
 
 Table No. 4.— PRODUCT OF WROUGHT IKON 
 DIRECT FROM THE ORE, ls;-,ii. 
 
 Bloomaries. 
 
 5 
 42 
 48 
 36 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 14 
 50 
 
 3 
 
 204 
 
 States. 
 
 Product. 
 Tons. 
 
 Vermont 1,650 
 
 New Y'ork 18,710 
 
 New Jersey 4,487 
 
 North Carolina 1,182 
 
 South Carolina 640 
 
 Georgia 40 
 
 Alabama 252 
 
 Tennessee 1,222 
 
 Michigan 450 
 
 28,633 
 
 Pig iron as above 812,917 
 
 Grand total production of iron from 
 
 the ore in 1856 841,550 
 
 In addition to this amount, the importa- 
 tions for the year 1856 of iron designed for 
 manufacture are estimated at 363,998 tons, 
 consisting of Scotch pig, 55,403 tons ; rolled 
 and hammered iron, 298,275 tons; and scraps, 
 10,320 tons; and if to this be added for old 
 rails reworked, 100,000 tons, and for scrap, 
 25,000 tons, the total amount of iron enter- 
 ing into domestic consumption was 1,330,548 
 tons. The importation of railroad iron not 
 included in the above was 167,400 tons. 
 The proportion of foreign iron introduced 
 into tiie general consumption, not including 
 rails, was about 30 per cent. 
 
 The value of the immediate products of 
 the manufacture of domestic iron is thus 
 given at the prices current in 1856 : — 
 
47 
 
 Foundry pip 302,154 tong a $27, $8,158,158 
 
 Foundry cold-blast ) 
 
 cliarawl irun for j- 35,000 " a 35, 1,225,000 
 
 car wlieels, etc. . . . ) 
 
 Eailg 142,555 " a G3, 8,980,905 
 
 Boiler and sheet.... 38,639 " a 120, 4,636,680 
 
 Nails 81.462 " a 84, 6,842,808 
 
 Bar, rod, hoop, and (235^25 " a 65,15,302,625 
 band ) ' ' ' ' 
 
 Hammered iron 21,000 " a 125, 2,625,000 
 
 Total $47,771,236 
 
 Mr. Smith presents the foUowino; conclu- 
 sion to the " Statistical Iteport of the Iron 
 Manufacture:" "The great facts demon- 
 strated are, that we have nearly 1,200 effi- 
 cient works in the Union ; that these pro- 
 duce annual!}' about 8C'0,000 tons of iron, 
 the value of which in an ordinary year is 
 $50,00.1,000; of this amount the portion 
 expended for labor alone is about $35,000,- 
 000." 
 
 The following table frives the different 
 kinds of pig metal and liie total amount pro- 
 duced in each year since 1856 : 
 
 Tons Tods raw Tons 
 
 Anlhnicite Bituiiiiunus Charcoal 
 
 YEAE. Pig Iron. Coal and Coke Pig Iron. Total. 
 
 Pig Iron. 
 
 1857, 390.385 7T.451 330.321 79S,157 
 
 li)53. 3111 410 58.:lol 285.313 70i.0»i 
 
 185», 471.745 84.811 M4.1M1 840,«J7 
 
 ISfiO, 61<.;U 122,228 278.331 919.770 
 
 1«)1. 409,229 127.0.17 1115.278 731.544 
 
 I8fi2, 470.315 130.fiS7 18fi.lj60 787.fiti2 
 
 1863, 577.638 157.9SI 212.005 947.li04 
 
 lS(il, 684.018 209.6.J6 241, 85;! 1,135.497 
 
 l-6», 479,.58a 189.6S2 . 262.342 8^11. '282 
 
 l-6o, 749.;lB7 286.996 332..280 1,350.943 
 
 1^17, 79^.638 318.617 344,311 l,4«l.6..6 
 
 186s, 893,000 340.0110 370.000 1.603.000 
 
 18i9, 971.150 5.53.341 392.150 1.91(i,iill 
 
 1.^70. 9J0.:«)0 5.50,0(10 360.000 l..S5i),tM)0 
 
 1871, 875,999 650,000 375,000 1.900,000 
 
 The manufacture of iron rails has existed 
 for nearly twenty-five years in the United 
 States, but has only assumed any great mag- 
 nitude since 18.i4. The annual production 
 of American rails since 18G1 has been : 18G1, 
 189,818 tons: 1802, 213.ill2; l.SGS, 275,- 
 768; 1864,835,369; 1865, 356,292 ; 1866, 
 430,778; 1867, 462,108; 1868, 506,711; 
 1869. 593,586 ; 1870, 62 i,0(»0 ; 1871, 722,- 
 000 tons. Ill the la>t named year, 572,386 
 ton-; were im[)orted from Great Britain. 
 
 The census of 1860 gives the following 
 statistics of the iron production and manu- 
 facture of that year. There had been very 
 little progress in the production of iron in 
 the country for several years previous, in 
 consequence of the very low rate of duty at 
 which foreign railroad and other iron was 
 admitted. 
 
 Iron blooms, valued at $2,623,178 
 
 Pig iron 20,870,120 
 
 Bar, sheet and railroad iron.. 31,888,705 
 
 Iron wire 1,643,857 
 
 Iron forgings 1,'.HI7,4G0 
 
 Car wheels 2,033^350 
 
 Iron castings of all kinds 36,132,033 
 
 $97,148,705 
 
 The opening of the war, in 1801, gave an 
 extraordinary impetus to iron production 
 and manufacture. The tariff and other 
 causes reduced the importation to a mini- 
 mum, while the demand for iron for the 
 fabrication of small arms and cannon ; for 
 the construction of the large fleet of iron- 
 clads, and for the other war vessels; for the 
 building of locomotives, the casting of car 
 wheels and furnishing the vast quantity of 
 railroad iron needed to repair the old tracks 
 destroyed by the contending armies, and to 
 lay the tracks of new roads, extended the 
 business vastly beyond all former precedeTit; 
 and the requirement that the Pacific railroad 
 and its branches shall be constructed solely 
 of American iron, as well as the increase in 
 its use for buildings, and for shipping, have 
 maintained it in a prosperous condition. 
 
 The manufacture of steel and the other 
 manufactures of iron, aside from those al- 
 ready enumerated, brought the aggregate 
 production and manufacture of iron and 
 steel, in 1860, up to $285,879,510. The 
 revenue tax paid on iron and steel manufac- 
 tures in 1864 indicates that the product of 
 the branches taxed amounted to about 
 812.3,000,000. This estimate was far below 
 the production, as many branches were not 
 taxed, and the returns of that year were im- 
 perfect. The production and manufacture of 
 1865 were not less than 400 millionsof dollars. 
 There is every reason to expect that the de- 
 velopment of the iron mines will be pushed 
 forward with con.stantly increasing energy, 
 and that the time is not far distant when 
 many of the great repositories of ores we 
 have described — now almost untouched — 
 will be the seats of an active industry and 
 centres of a thriving population, su]iported 
 by the home markets they will create. The 
 great valley of tlie west, when filled with 
 the population it is capable of supporting, 
 and intersected in every direction with the 
 vast system of railroads, of which the present 
 lines form but the mere outlines, will itself 
 require more iron than the world now pro- 
 duces, and the transportation of large por- 
 tions of this from the great iron regions of 
 northern Michigan and Wisconsin, and of 
 
48 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 coal back to the mines, will sustain larger 
 lines of transportation than have ever yet been 
 employed in conveying to their markets the 
 most important products of the country. 
 The importation of foreign iron — already 
 falling otl' in proportion to the increased con- 
 sumption — must, before many years, cease, 
 and be succeeded by exports for the supplies 
 of other nations less bountifully provided for 
 in this respect than the United States and 
 Great Britain. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 COPPER. 
 
 The early attempts to work copper mines 
 in the United States have already been al- 
 luded to in the introductory remarks to the 
 department of this work relating to mining 
 industry. The ores of this metal .ire widely 
 distributed throughout the country, and in 
 almost every one of the states have been 
 found in quantities that encouraged their ex- 
 ploration — in the great majority of cases to 
 the loss of those interested. The metal is 
 met witli in all the New England states, but 
 only those localities need be named which 
 have at times been looked upon as important. 
 
 Copper occurs in a native or metallic state, 
 and also in a variety of ores, or combi- 
 nations of the metal with other substances. 
 In these forms tlie metallic appearance is 
 lost, and the metal is obtained by different 
 metallurgical operations, an account of some 
 of which will be presented in the course of 
 this chapter. Until the discovery of the 
 Lake Superior mines, native copper, from its 
 scarcity, was regarded rather as a curiosity 
 than as an important source of supply. The 
 workable ores were chiefly pyritous copper, 
 vitreous copper, variegated copper, the red 
 oxide, the green carbonate or malachite, and 
 chrysocolla. The first named, though con- 
 taining the least proportion of copper, has 
 furnished more of the metal than all the 
 other ores together, and is the chief depen- 
 dence of most of the urines. It is a double 
 sulphuret of copper and iron, of bright yel- 
 low color, and consists, when pure, of about 
 34 per cent, of copper, 35 of sulphur, and 
 30 of iron. But the ore is always inter- 
 mixed with quartz or other earthy minerals, 
 bv which its richness is greatly reduced. As 
 brousiht out from the mine it m.iy not con- 
 tain more than 1 per cent, of copper, and 
 ■when freed as far as practicable from foreign 
 
 substances by the mechanical processes of 
 assorting, crushing, washing, jigging, etc., 
 and brought up to a percentage of 6 or 7 of 
 copper, it is in Cornwall a merchantable ore, 
 and the mine producing in large quantity the 
 poor material from which it is obtained may 
 be a profitable one. Vitreous coj)per, known J 
 also as copper glance, and sulphuret of cop- 1 
 per, is a lead gray ore, very soft, and con- 
 tains 79.8 per cent, of copper, united with 
 20.2 per cent, of sulphur. It is not often 
 fiiund in large quantity. Variegated or pur- 
 ple copper is distinguished by its various 
 shades of color and brittle texture. It yields, 
 when pure, from 56 to 63 per cent, of copper, 
 21 to 28 of sulphur, and 7 to 14 of iron. 
 The red oxide is a beautiful ore of ruby red 
 color, and consists of 88.8 per cent, of cop- 
 per and 11.2 per cent, of oxygen. It is 
 rarely found in sufficient quantity to add 
 nuieh to the products of the mines. Green 
 malachite is a highly ornamental stone, of 
 richly variegated shades of green, famous as 
 the material of costly vases, tables, etc., man- 
 ufactured in Siberia for the Russian govern- 
 ment. It is always met with in copper 
 mines, especially near the surface, but rarely 
 in large or handsome masses. It consists 
 of copper 57.5, oxygen 14.4, carbonic acid 
 19.9, and water 8.2 per cent. Chrysocolla 
 is a combination of oxide of copper and 
 silica, of greenish shades, and is met with as 
 an incrustation upon other copper ores. It 
 often closely resembles the malachite in ap- 
 pearance. It contains about 36 per cent, of 
 copper. 
 
 The first mines worked in the United 
 States were peculiar for the rich character 
 of their ores. These were, in great part, 
 vitreous and variegated copper, with some 
 malachite, and were found in beds, strings, 
 and bunches in the red sandstone formation, 
 especially along its line of contact with the 
 gneiss and granitic rocks in Connecticut, and 
 with the trap rocks in New Jersey. The 
 mine at Simsbury, in Connecticut, furnished 
 a considerable amount of such ores from the 
 year 1709 till it was purchased, about the 
 middle of the last century, by the stale, 
 from which time it was occupied for sixty 
 years as a prison, and worked by the con- 
 victs ; not, however, to much profit. In 
 1830 it came into possession of a company, 
 but was only worked for a short time after- 
 ward. On the same geological range, but 
 lying cliiefly in the gneiss rocks, the most 
 productive of these mines was opened in 
 
49 
 
 18:36, in Bristol, Conn. It was vigorously- 
 worked from 1847 to 1857, and produced 
 lar(;er amounts of rich vitreous and pyritous 
 ores than have been obtained from any other 
 mine in the United States. No expense was 
 spared in prosecuting the mining, and in 
 furnishing efficient machinery for dressing the 
 ores. Although 1800 tons of ore, producing 
 over $200,000, were sent to market, the ore 
 yielding from 18 to 5U per cent, of copper, 
 the mine proved a losing afl'air, and was 
 finally abandoned in 1857. 
 
 The New Jersey mines have all failed. 
 from insufficient supply of the ores. The 
 Sehuyler mine, at Belleville, produced rich 
 vitreous copper and chrysocoUa, disseminated 
 through a stratum of light brown sandstone, 
 of 20 to 30 feet in thickness, and dipping at 
 an angle of 12°. During the periods of its 
 being worked in the last century, the exca- 
 vations reached the depth of 200 feet, and 
 were carried to great distances on the course 
 of the metalliferous stratum. The mine was 
 then so hitvhly valued that an offer of £500,- 
 000, made for it by an English company, was 
 refused by the proprietor, Mr. Schuyler. In 
 1857-58 attempts were made by a New 
 York company to work the mine again, but 
 the enterprise soon failed. Among the other 
 mines which have been worked to consid- 
 erable extent in New Jersev are the Flem- 
 ington mine, which resembled in the char- 
 acter of its ore the Schuyler mine, and tJie 
 Bridgcwatcr mine, near Somerville, at which 
 native copper in some quantity was found in 
 the last century ; twopiecosmet with in 1754 
 weighing together, it was reported, 1,900 lbs. 
 A mine near New Brunswick also furnished 
 many lumps of native copper, and thin sheets 
 of the metal were found included in the sand- 
 stone. At diflerent times this mine has been 
 thoroughlv explored, to the loss of those en- 
 gaged in the enterprise. In Somerset county, 
 the Franklin mine, near Griggstown, has been 
 worked to the depth of 100 feet. Carbonate 
 and red oxide of copper were found in the 
 shales near the trap, but not in quantity suf- 
 ficient to pay expenses. In Pennsylvania, 
 near the Schuylkill river, in Montgomery and 
 Chester counties, many mines have been 
 worked for copper and lead at tlie junction 
 of the red sandstone and gneiss. Those 
 veins included wholly in the shales of the 
 red sandstone group were found to produce 
 copper chiefly, while those in the gneiss were 
 productive in lead ores. At the Ferkiomen 
 and Ecton mines — both upon the same lode 
 
 — extensive mining operations have been 
 carried on ; a shaft upon the latter having 
 reached in 1853 the depth of 396 feet. The 
 sales of copper ores during the three years 
 the mines were actively worked amounted 
 to over $40,500 ; but the product was not 
 sufficient to meet the expenditures. 
 
 The mines in Frederick county, Maryland, 
 in the neighborhood of Liberty, were near 
 the red sandstone formation, though included 
 in argillaceous and talcose slates. A num- 
 ber of them have been worked at difierent 
 times up to the year 1853, when they were 
 finally given up as unprofitable. 
 
 A more newly discovered and richer cop- 
 per district in Maryland is near Sykesvillo, 
 on the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, 32 miles 
 from Baltimore, in a region of micaceous, 
 talcose, and chloritic slates. A large bed of 
 specular iron ore lying between the slates 
 was found to contain, at some depth below 
 the surface, carbonates and silicates of cop- 
 per, and still further down copper pyrites. 
 In the twelve months preceding April 1, 
 1857, 300 tons had been mined and sent to 
 market, the value of which was §17,896.92, 
 and the mine was reported as improving. 
 The ore sent to the smelting works at Balti- 
 more, in December of that year, yielded 
 16.03 per cent, of copper. Witliin seven 
 miles of Baltimore the Bare Hill mine lias 
 produced considerable copper, associated 
 with the chromic iron of that region. 
 
 Like the last two named, all the otlier lo- 
 calities of copper ores of any importance 
 along the Appalachian chain and east of it 
 are remote from the range of the red sand- 
 stone, and belong to older rock formations. 
 In the granites of New Hampshire, pyritous 
 copper has been found in many places, but has 
 nowhere been mined to any extent. In Ver- 
 mont, mining operations were carried on for 
 several years upon a large lode of pyritous 
 copper, which was traced several miles 
 through Vershire and Corinth. At Straf- 
 ford, pyritous ores were worked in 1829 and 
 afterward, both for copperas and cop()er. In 
 New York, excellent pyritous ores were pro- 
 duced at the Ulster lead mine in 185.3. 
 Among other sales of similar qualities ofore, 
 one lot of 50 tons produced 24.3 per cent, of 
 copper. 
 
 In Virginia, rich ores of red oxide of cop- 
 per, associated with native copper and pyri- 
 tous copper, are found in the metamorphic 
 slates at Manasses Gap, and also in many 
 [ other places further south along the Blue 
 
50 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Ridge. The very promising appearance of 
 tlie ores, and their numerous localities, would 
 encourage one to believe that this will prove 
 to l:>e a copper region, were it not that, when 
 explored, the ores do not seem to lie in any 
 regular form of vein. In the southern part 
 of the state, in Carroll, Floyd, and Grayson 
 counties, copper was discovered in 1852, and 
 mines were soon after opened in a district 
 of metainorphic slates, near their junction 
 with the lower silurian limestones. The 
 copper was met with in the form of pyritous 
 ore, red oxide, and black copper, beneath 
 large outcropping masses of hematite iron 
 ore, or gossan. Some of the shipments are 
 said to have yielded over '20 per cent, of 
 copper. The amount of ores sent east, over 
 the Virginia and Tennessee railroad, in 1855, 
 was 1,931,40:! lbs. ; in 1850, 1,972,834 lbs.; 
 and in the nine months ending June 30, 
 1857, 1,085,997 lbs.; 1858, 088,418 lbs.; 
 1859, 1,151,132 lbs.; and 1800, 2,679,673 
 lbs. Copper ores are very generally met witli 
 in the gold mines of this state, and further 
 south, but the only one of them that has been 
 worked expressly for copper is that of the 
 North Carolina Copper Company, in Guilford 
 county. From this a considerable amount 
 of pyritous copper ores were sent to the 
 north in 1852 and 1853. 
 
 In Tennessee, an important copper region 
 lies along the southern line of I'olk couTity, 
 and extends into Gilmer county, Georgia. 
 The ore was first found in 1847, associated 
 with masses of hematite iron ores, which 
 formed great outcrop])ing ledges, traceable 
 for miles from south-west to north-east along 
 the range of the micaceous and talcose slates. 
 An examination of the ores, made to ascer- 
 tain the cause of their working badly in the 
 furnace, was the means of corroborating or 
 giving importance to the discovery of the 
 copper. In 1851 copper mining was com- 
 menced, and afterward prosecuted with great 
 activity by a number of companies. The 
 ore was found in seven or eight parallel lodes 
 of the ferruginous matters, all within a belt 
 of a mile in width. At the surface there 
 was no appearance of it, but as the explora- 
 tions reached the depth of seventy -five or 
 one Imndred feet below the surface of the 
 bills, it was met with in various forms, re- 
 sulting from the decomposition of pyritous 
 copper, and much mixed with the ochreous 
 matters derived from a similar source. In a 
 soft black mass, easily worked by the pick, 
 and of extraordinary dimensions, were found 
 
 intermixed ditferent oxides and other ores 
 of copper, yielding various proportions of 
 metal, and much of it producing 20 per cent, 
 and more, fit to be barrelled up at once for 
 transportation. This ore spread out in a 
 sheet, varying in width at the dift'erent 
 mines ; at the Eureka mine it was 50 feet 
 wide, and at the Iliwassee 45 feet, while at 
 the Isabella mine the excavations have been 
 extended between two walls 250 feet apart. 
 In depth this ore is limited to a few feet only, 
 except as it forms bunches running up into 
 the gossan or ochreous ores. Below the 
 black ore is the undecomposed lode, consist- 
 ing of quartz, more or less charged with 
 pyritous copper, red oxide, green carbonate, 
 and gray sulphuret of copper ; and it is upon 
 these the permanent success of the mines 
 must depend. About 14 mining companies 
 have been engaged in this district, and the 
 production of the most successful of them 
 was as follows, up to the year 1858: Isa- 
 bella, 2,500 tons; Calloway, 200; Mary's, 
 1,500 ; Polk county, 2,100 ; Tennessee, 
 2,200 ; Hiwassee, 2,500 ; Hancock, 2,000 — 
 making a total of 13,000 tons, yielding from 
 15 to 40 per cent, of copper, and worth ^100 
 per ton, or $1,300,000. In addition to this, 
 the products of the London mine, yielding 
 an average of 45 per cent, of copper, amount- 
 ed to over $200,000 in value ; and the prod- 
 ucts of the Eureka mine were rated for 
 1855 at $86,000; for 1856 at $123,000; 
 and for 1857 at $136,000. The value of the 
 ores remaining at the mines too poor to 
 transport, but valuable to smelt in furnaces 
 on the spot, was estimated at $200,000 more. 
 Furnaces for smelting, on the German plan, 
 were in operation in 1857, and produced 
 the next year 850 tons of matt, or regulus. 
 At the Eureka mine, in 1858, there were 4 
 reverbcratory furnaces, 2 blast, and 2 cal- 
 cining furnaces. The fuel employed is wood 
 and charcoal. By the introduction of smelt- 
 ing operations, ores of 5 to 6 per cent, are 
 now advantageously reduced. 
 
 In 1857 the mines of a large portion of 
 this district were incorporated into the so- 
 called Union Consolidated Mining Companv, 
 and most of the other mines were taken up 
 by the Burra Burra Company and the Polk 
 County Company. The principal interests 
 in the last two are held in New Orleans. 
 The first named own 1 1 mines, of which 
 they are working three only, with a monthly 
 production of 750 to SuO tons of 12 per cent, 
 copper, besides 5 or 6 tons of precipitate 
 
51 
 
 copper. This is metallic copper, precipitated 
 from the waters of the mine by means of 
 scrap iron thrown into tbe vats in which 
 these waters are collected. The iron being 
 taken up by the acids whicli hold the cop- 
 per in solution, tlie latter is set free, and de- 
 posited in line metallic powder. The ore is 
 smelted in furnaces constructed on the Ger- 
 man plan, and beinsj put through twice, pro- 
 duce a regulus of 55 per cent. As soon as 
 the proper furnaces and refineries can be 
 constructed, it is intended to make ingot 
 copper, and by working more of the mines 
 belonging to the company it is expected the 
 monthly production will soon be raised to 
 2,000 tons of 10 to 12 per cent. ore. 
 
 The two other companies have erected ex- 
 tensive smelting works ; and the mines of 
 the Burra Burra are producing 450 to 500 
 tons per month of 14 per cent, ore, and 
 those of the Polk County Company about 
 300 tons of 15 per cent. ore. Both com- 
 panies will soon be able to make ingot cop- 
 per. The report of the Union Consolidated 
 Company for the first year of their opera- 
 tions presents, against expenditures amount- 
 ing to S!307,182."77, receipts of 8457,803.73, 
 leaving a profit of §150,620.96. A large 
 portion of the regulus is shipped to England 
 for sale. 
 
 The profits of these mines were greatly 
 reduced the first few years of their operation 
 by the necessity of transporting the ores 40 
 miles to a railroad, and thence more than 
 1,000 miles by land and water to the north- 
 ern smelting works. The establishment of 
 furnaces at the mines not only reduces this 
 source of loss, but renders the great body 
 of poorer ores available, which they were not 
 before. A railroad is now in process of con- 
 struction to connect the mines with the 
 Georgia railroads. 
 
 West of the Alleghanies, the onl}- copper 
 mines, besides those of Lake Superior, are 
 in the lead region of Wisconsin, Iowa, and 
 Missouri. A considerable ntimber of them 
 have been worked to limited extent, and 
 small blast furnaces have been in operation 
 smelting tlie ores. These were found only 
 near the surface, in the crevices that con- 
 tained the lead ores ; and in Missouri, in 
 horizontal beds in the limestone, along the 
 line of contact of the granite. The ores 
 were mixed pyritous copper and carbonate, 
 always in very limited quantity. The amount 
 of copper produced has been unimportant, 
 and it is not likely that any considerable in- 
 
 crease in the supply of the metal will be de- 
 rived from this source. 
 
 The existence of native copper on ths 
 shores of Lake Superior, is noticed in the 
 reports of the Jesuit missionaries of 1659 
 and 1666. Pieces of the metal 10 to 20 lbs. 
 in weight were seen, which it is said the 
 Indians reverenced as sacred ; similar reports 
 were brought by Father Dablou in 1 670, and 
 by Charlevoix in 1744. An attempt was 
 made in 1771 by an Englishman, named 
 Alexander Henry, to open a mine near the 
 forks of the Ontonagon, on the baidc of the 
 river, where a large mass of the metal lay ex- 
 posed. He had visited the region in 1763, 
 and returned with a party prepared for more 
 thoroughly exploring its resources. They, 
 however, found no more copper besides the 
 loose mass, which they were unable to re- 
 move. They then went over to the north 
 shore of the lake, but met with no better 
 success there. General Cass and Mr. 11. R. 
 Schoolcraft visited the region in 1819, and 
 reported on the great mass upon the Onton- 
 agon. Major Long, also, in 1823, bore wit- 
 ness to the occurrence of the metal along 
 the shores of the take. The country, till 
 the ratification of the treaty with the Chip- 
 pewa Indians in 1842, was scarcely ever 
 visited except by hunters and fur-traders, 
 and was only accessible by a tedious voyage 
 in canoes from Mackinaw. The fur com- 
 panies discouraged, and could exclude from 
 the territorv, all explorers not going there 
 under their auspices. Dr. Douglass Hough- 
 ton, the state geologist of Michigan, in the 
 territory of which these Indian lands were 
 included, made the first scientific examina- 
 tion of the country in 1841, and his reports 
 first drew public attention to its great re- 
 sources in copper. His explorations were 
 continued both under the state and general 
 government until they were suddenly termi- 
 nated with his life bv the unfortunate swamp- 
 ing of his boat in the lake, near Eagle river, 
 October 13, 1845. 
 
 In 1844 adventurers from the eastern states 
 began to pour into the country, and mining 
 operations were commenced at various places 
 near the shore, on Keweenaw Point. The 
 companies t<Jok possession under permits 
 from the general land office, in anticipation 
 of the regular surveys, when the tracts could 
 be properly designated for sale. Nearly 
 one thousand tracts, of one mile square each, 
 were selected — the greater part of them at 
 random, and afterward explored and aban- 
 
52 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 doned. In 1846 a geological survey of the 
 region was authorized h}- Congress, which 
 was commenced under Dr. C. T. Jackson, 
 and completed by Messrs. Foster and Whit- 
 ney in 1850. At this time many mines were 
 in full operation, and titles to them had been 
 acquired at the government sales. 
 
 The copper region, as indicated by Dr. 
 Houghton, was found to be nearly limited to 
 the range of trap hills, which are traced from 
 the termination of Keweenaw Point toward 
 the south-west in a belt of not more than two 
 miles in width, gradually receding from the 
 lake shore. The upper portion of the hills 
 is of trap rock, lying in beds wliich dip to- 
 ward the lake, and pass in this direction 
 under others of sandstone, the outcrop of 
 which is along the northern flanks of the 
 hills. Isle Royale, near the north shore of 
 the lake, is made up of similar formations, 
 which dip toward the south. These rocks 
 thus appear to form the basin in wliich the 
 portion of Lake Superior lying between is 
 held. The trap hills are traced from Kewee- 
 naw Point in two or three parallel ridges of 
 600 to 1,000 feet elevation, crossing Portage 
 lake not far from the shore of Lake Superior, 
 and the Ontonagon river about 13 miles from 
 its mouth. They thence reach further back 
 into the country beyond Agogebic lake, full 
 120 miles from the north-eastern termina- 
 tion. Another group of trap hills, known as 
 the Porcupine mountains, comes out to the 
 lake shore some 20 miles above the mouth 
 of the Ontonagon, and this also contains 
 veins of copper, which have been little de- 
 veloped until tlie explorations commenced 
 near Carp lake in these mountains in 1S59. 
 These have resulted in a shipment of over 20 
 tons of rough copper in 1800, and give en- 
 couragement to this proving a copper-pro- 
 ducing district. The formations upon Isle 
 Royale, which is within the boundary of the 
 United States, although they are similar to 
 those of the south shore, and contain copper 
 veins upon which explorations were vigor- 
 ously prosecuted, have not proved of impor- 
 tance, and no mines are now worked there. 
 The productive mines are comprised in three 
 districts along the main range of the trap 
 hills. The first is on Keweenaw Point, the 
 second about Portage lake, and the third 
 near the Ontonagon river. All the veins 
 are remarkable for producing native copper 
 alone, the only ores of the metal being 
 chiefly of vitreous copper found in a range 
 of hills on the south side of Keweenaw Point, 
 
 and nowhere in quantities to justify the con- 
 tinuation of mining operations that were 
 commenced upon them. The veins on Ke- 
 weenaw Point cross the ridges nearly at right 
 angles, penetrating almost vertically through 
 the trap and the sandstones. Their produc- 
 tiveness is, for the most part, limited to cer- 
 tain amygdaloidal belts of the trap, which 
 alternate with other unproductive beds of 
 gray compact trap, and the mining explora- 
 tions follow the former down their slope of 
 40°, more or less, toward the north. The 
 thickness of the veins is very variable, and 
 also their richness, even in the amygdaloid. 
 The copper is found interspersed in pieces 
 of all sizes through the quartz vein stones 
 and among the calcareous spar, laumonite, 
 prehnite, and otlier minerals associated with 
 the quartz. These being extracted, piles are 
 made of the poorer sorts, in which the metal 
 is not sufficiently clear of stone for shipment, 
 and these are roasted by firing the wood in- 
 termixed through the heaps. By this proc- 
 ess the stone entangled among the copper 
 is more readily broken and removed. The 
 lumps that will go into barrels are called 
 " barrel work," and are packed in this way 
 for shipment. Larger ones, called " masses," 
 some of which arc huge, irregular-shaped 
 blocks of clean copper, are cut into pieces 
 that can be conveniently transported, as of 
 one to three tons weight each. This is done 
 by means of a long chisel with a bit three- 
 fourths of .an inch wide, which is held by one 
 man and struck in turns by two others with 
 a hammer weighing 7 or 8 lbs. A groove is 
 thus cut across the narrowest part of the 
 mass, turning out long chips of copper one- 
 fourth of an inch thick, and with each suc- 
 ceeding cut the groove is deepened to the 
 same extent until it reaches through the mass. 
 The process is slow and tedious, a single cut 
 sometimes occupying the continual labor of 
 three men for as many weeks, or even long- 
 er. This work is done in great part be- 
 fore the masses can be got out of the 
 mine. The masses are found in working the 
 vein, often occupying the whole space be- 
 tween the walls of trap rock, standing up- 
 on their edges, and shut in as solidly as if 
 all were one material. To remove one of the 
 very large masses is a work of many months. 
 It is first laid bare along one side by extend- 
 ing the level or drift of the mine through 
 the trap rock. The excavation is carried 
 high enough to expose its upper edge and 
 down to its lower line ; but on account of ir- 
 
53 
 
 regular shape and projecting arms of copper, 
 ■which often stretch forward, and up and down, 
 connecting with other masses, it requires long 
 and tedious mining operations to determine 
 its dimensions. When it is supposed to 
 be nearly freed along one side, very heavy 
 charges of powder are introduced in the rock 
 behind the mass, with the view of starting 
 it from its bed. When cracks are produced 
 by these, heavier charges are introduced in 
 the form of sand-blasts, and these are re- 
 peated until the mass is thrown partly over on 
 its side as well as the space excavated will 
 admit. In speaking further of the Minesota 
 mine, the enormous sizes of some of the 
 masses, and the amount of powder consumed 
 in loosening them, will be more particularly 
 noticed. 
 
 To separate the finer particles of copper 
 from the stones in which they are contained, 
 these, after being roasted, are crushed under 
 heavy stamps to the condition of fine sand, 
 and this is then washed after the usual 
 method of washing fine ores, until the earthy 
 matters are removed and the metallic par- 
 ticles are left behind. This is shovelled into 
 small casks for shipment, and is known as 
 stamp copper. The stamping and crushing 
 machinery, such as have long been used at 
 the mining establishments of other countries, 
 were found to be entirely too slow for the 
 requirements of these mines, and they have 
 been replaced by new apparatus of Amer- 
 ican contrivance, which is far more efficient 
 than an}' thing of the kind ever before ap- 
 plied to such operations. The stamps here- 
 tofore in use have been of 100 lbs. to 300 lbs. 
 weight, and at the California mines were first 
 introduced of 800 lbs. to 1,000 lbs. weight. 
 At Lake Superior they are in use on the plan 
 of the steam hammer, weighing, with the rod 
 or stamp-log, 2,500 lbs. and making 90 to 
 100 strokes in a minute. The capacity of 
 each stamp is to crush over one ton of hard 
 trap rock every hour. It falls upon a larojo 
 mortar that rests upon springs of vulcanized 
 rubber, and the force of its fall is increased 
 by the pressure of steam applied above the 
 piston to throw it more suddenlv down. The 
 stamp-head covers about one-fourth of the 
 face of the mortar, and with every succeed- 
 ing stroke it moves to the adjoining quarter, 
 covering the whole face in fi;>ur strokes. 
 
 The only other metal fiund with the cop- 
 per is silver, and this does not occur as an 
 alloy, but the two are as if welded together, 
 and neither, when assayed, gives more than 
 
 a trace of the other. It is evident from this 
 that they cannot have been in a fused state 
 in contact. The quantity of silver is small ; 
 the largest piece ever found weighing a little 
 more than S lbs. troy. This was met with 
 at the mines near the mouth of Eagle river, 
 where a considerable number of loose pieces, 
 together with loose masses of copper, were 
 obtained in e.xploring deep under the bed of 
 the stream an ancient deposit of rounded 
 boulders of sandstone and trap. The veins 
 of even the trap rocks themselves of this lo- 
 cality exhibited so much silver that in the 
 early operations of the mines a very high 
 value was set upon them on this account. 
 But at none of the Lake Superior mines has 
 the silver collected paid the proprietors for 
 the loss it lias occasioned by distracting the 
 attention of the miners, and leading them to 
 seek for it with the purpose of appropriating 
 it to their own use. Probably they have car- 
 ried away much the greater part of this 
 metal ; at least until the stamp mills were in 
 operation. 
 
 The principal mine of this district is the 
 Cliff mine of the Pittsburg and Boston Com- 
 pany, opened in 1 845, and steadily worked ever 
 since. In 1858 the extent of the horizontal 
 workings on the vein had amounted to 
 12,368 feet, besides 831 feet in cross-cuts. 
 Five shafts had been sunk, one of which was 
 817 feet deep, 587 feet being below the adit 
 level, and 230 feet being from this level to the 
 summit of the ridge. The shaft of least 
 depth was sunk 422 feet. 
 
 The production of the mine from the year 
 1853 is exhibited in the following table: — 
 
 Price per lb. 
 
 Mineral Refined Yield deducting Value 
 
 Tear. pnKiuced. copper, per cent, crjst of realized. 
 
 lbs. Ihs. smelting. 
 
 1853, 2.268,182 1,071,288 47..38 cts. 27.32 $292,647 05 
 
 ISM, 2..3.32,614 I,3I5..30S 56.33 ■-4,38 320,783 01 
 
 1S55, 2,995.837 1,874,197 62.36 25 33 475,911 26 
 
 IRSfi, 3,291.8.39 2,220,934 67,48 24.12 5.3."i.843 67 
 
 1857, 8,363,.5.i7 2.:;63.KoO 70.28 20.44 497,870 47 
 
 1858, 8,183,085 2,331.964 71.00 21.03 47.5,321 89 
 
 1859, 2.139,632 1,415,007 64.35 20.50 290,097 97 
 1860 2.805,442 
 
 22,.374,6,sS .. .. 
 
 '™u1a1eaTagr.": } "■^^O. -<"--« "' ^'"^^ 
 
 The quantities of the different sorts for 
 the year 1857 are as follows: — 
 
 941 masses 1.958.181 lbs. 
 
 869 bbls. of barrel work 613,731 " 
 
 1,020 '■ ofstainpings 791,645" 
 
 Total 3,368,557 " 
 
 The Portage lake mining district is from 
 twenty to twenty-five miles west from the 
 
54 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Cliff mine on the same range of hills. This 
 region is of more recent deTclopmcnt, tlie 
 explorations having been attended with little 
 success previous to 1854. The veins are 
 here found productive in a gray variety of 
 trap as well as the amygdaloidal, and instead 
 of lying across the ridgos, follow the same 
 course with them, and dip in general with 
 the slope of the strata. 8ome of the larger 
 veins consist in great part of cpidoto, and 
 the copper in tliese is mucli loss dense 
 than in the ijuartz veins, forming tangled 
 masses which are rarely of any considerable 
 size. On the eastern side of this lake are 
 worked, among other mines, the Quincy, 
 I'cwabic, and Franklin, and on the opposite 
 side the Isle Koyale, Portage, and Columbian 
 mines. The most successful of these has 
 been the I'ewabic. Operations were com- 
 menced here in 1855 upon an unimproved 
 tract, requiring the construction of roads and 
 buildings, clearing of land, etc. etc., all in- 
 volving for several years a continue(i heavy 
 outlay. The immediate and rapid produc- 
 tion of the mine re(piired the construction of 
 costly mills, without which a large propor- 
 tion of the copper would be unavailable for 
 the market. The first tliree years the as- 
 sessments were $50,000, and the shipments 
 of barrel and mass copper were in 1856 
 S^^VA tons; in 1857, 209JfP/j tons; in 
 
 1858, 402 tons; in 1859, SlSJJy^ tons. The 
 proceeds from the sales up to this time paid 
 off all the expenditures, and left besides a 
 considerable surplus. The Franklin Com- 
 pany, working the same lode upon the ad- 
 joining location, commenced operations in 
 July, 1857, and that year shipped 20 tons 
 of copper, the next year 110 tons, and in 
 
 1859, 218 tons; the total amount in capital 
 furnished bv assessments was 4(10,000. Tliese 
 two mines have been the most rajiidly de- 
 veloped of any of the Lake Superior mines. 
 
 The Ontonagon river crosses the trap hills 
 about forty miles south-west from Portage 
 lake, and the mines worked in tlie Onton- 
 agon district are scattered along the hills 
 north-east from the river for a distance of 
 nearly twenty miles. The outlet for the 
 gieater number of them is by aroa<l through 
 tlic woods to the village at the mouth of the 
 river. The veins o{ this district also lie 
 abitig the course of the ridges, and dip with 
 the trap rocks toward the lake. As they 
 are worked, however, they are found oica- 
 sionallv to cut across the strata, and neighbor- 
 ing veins to run into each other. In some 
 
 places copper occurs in masses scattered 
 thi'ough the trap rock with no sign of a 
 vein, not even a seam or crevice connecting 
 one mass with another. They appear, how- 
 ever, to be range<l on the general course of 
 the strata. At the Adventure mine they 
 were so abundant, that it has been found 
 profitable to collect them, and the cliff's of 
 the trap rock present a curious appearance, 
 studded over with numerous dark cavities in 
 apparently inaccessible places leading into 
 the solid face of the mountai:i. 
 
 The great mine of tiiis dislrict for fifteen 
 years was the Minnesota, two mi'es ca-tfiom 
 the Ontonagon river. The exi)loiers in this 
 region in the winter of 18-17-48, found par- 
 allel lines of trenches, extending along the 
 trap hills, evidently made by man at .«ome 
 distant period. They were so well mark- 
 ed, as to be noticed even under a cover of 
 three feet depth of snow. On examinaticjn 
 they proved to be on the cour.=e of veins 
 of cop;ier, and the excavations weie found 
 to extend down into the solid rock, por- 
 tions of which were sometimes left standing 
 incr tiie workings. \\ hen these pits were 
 afterward explored, there were found in 
 them large quantities of rude hammers, made 
 of the hardest kind of greenstone, from the 
 trap rocks of the neighborhood. These 
 were of all sizes, ranging from four to forty 
 pounds weight, and of the same general 
 shape — one end being rounded off for the 
 end of the hammer, and the other shaped 
 like a wedge. Around the middle was a 
 groove — the large hammers had two — evi- 
 dently intended for securing the handle by 
 
 STONE HAUMBK. 
 
 which they were wielded. In every instance 
 the hammers were more or less broken, evi- 
 
COPPER. 
 
 55 
 
 dently in service. One of them brought from 
 the mine by tlie writer, and now in the col- 
 lection of the Cooper Union of New York, 
 is represented in the accompanying sketch. 
 It measures 6i inches in length, the same in 
 breadth, and 2i inches in thickness. 
 
 The quantity of hammers found in these 
 old workings was so great that they were col- 
 lected by cart-loads. How they could have 
 been made with such tools as the ancient 
 miners had, is unaccountable, for the stone 
 itself is the hardest material thev could find. 
 And it is not .any more clear, how thev ap- 
 plied such clumsj' tools to excavating solid 
 rock nearly as hard as the hammers them- 
 selves. Every hammer is broken on the 
 edge, as if worn out in service. The only 
 tools found besides these were a copper gad 
 or wedge, a copper chisel with a socket head, 
 and a wooden bowl. The great extent of 
 the ancient mining operations indicates that 
 the country must have been lonsj occupied 
 by an industrious people, possessed of more 
 mechanical skill than the present race of In- 
 dians. They nuist also have spread over the 
 whole of the copper region, for similar evi- 
 dences of their occupancy are found about 
 all the copper mines, and even upon Isle 
 Royale. It is not improbable that they be- 
 longed to the race of the mound builders of 
 the western states, among the vestiges of 
 ■whom, found in the mounds, various utensils 
 of copper have been met with. But of the 
 period when they lived, the copper mines 
 afford no more evidence than the mounds. 
 Some of the trenches at the Minesota mine, 
 originally excavated to the depth of more 
 than twenty-five feet, have since filled up 
 with gravel and rubbish to within a few 
 feet of the surface, a work which in this 
 region would seem to require centuries; and 
 upon the surface of this material large trees 
 are now standing, and stumps of much older 
 ones are seen, that have long been rotting. 
 In clearing out the pits a mass of copper 
 •was discovered, buried in the gravel nearly 
 twenty feet below the surface, which the an- 
 cients had entirely separated from the vein. 
 They had supported it upon blocks of wood, 
 and, probably by means of fire and their 
 hammers, had removed from it all the adhering 
 stone and projecting points of copper. Under 
 it were quantities of ashes and charred wood. 
 The weight of the mass, after all their at- 
 tempts to reduce it, appears to have been 
 too great for them to raise ; and when it was 
 finally taken out in 1848, it was found to 
 4* 
 
 weigh over six tons. It was about ten feet 
 long, three feet wide, and nearly two feet 
 thick. Beneath this spot the vein after- 
 ward proved extremely rich, affording many 
 masses of great size. 
 
 The veins worked by the Minesota Com- 
 pany all lie along the southern slope of the 
 northern trap ridge, not far below the sum- 
 mit. Three veins have been discovered which 
 lie nearly parallel to each other. The lowest 
 one is along the contact of the gray trap of 
 the upper part of the hill and a stratum of 
 conglomerate which underlies this. It dips 
 with the slope of this rock toward the north- 
 north-west at an angle of about 46° with the 
 horizon. The next upper vein outcropping, 80 
 or 90 feet further up the hill, dips about Cl°, 
 and falls into the lower vein along a very 
 irregular line. Both veins are worked, and 
 the greatest yield of the mine has been near 
 their line of meeting. 
 
 The position of the veins along the range 
 of the rocks, instead of across them, gives to 
 the mines of this character a great advantage, 
 as their productiveness is not limited to the 
 thickness of any one belt which proves favor- 
 able for the occurrence of the metal ; and 
 the outcrop of the vein can be traced a great 
 distance along the surface, aftbrdinn conve- 
 nient opportunities for sinking directly upon 
 it at any point. 
 
 The Minnesota Company, liaving abund- 
 ant room, were soon able to sink a large 
 number of shafts along a line of outcrop 
 of 1,800 feet, and several of the levels be- 
 low extended considerably further than this 
 entire length. In 1 8.J8 nine shafts were 
 in operation, and ten levels were driven on 
 the vein, the deepest at 536 feet down the 
 slope. The ten fathom level at that time 
 vi-as 1,9G0 feet in length. This mine has 
 been remarkable for the large size and great 
 number of its masses. The largest one of 
 these, taken out during the year 1857, after 
 being uncovered along its side, refused to 
 give way, though 1,450 pounds of powder 
 had been exploded behind it in five succes- 
 sive sand-blasts. A charge of 625 pounds 
 being then fired beneath it, the mass was so 
 much loosened that by a succeeding blast of 
 750 pounds it was torn off from the masses 
 with which it connected, and thrown over 
 in one immense piece. It measured forty- 
 five feet in length, and its greatest thickness 
 was over eight feet. Its weight was estima- 
 ted at about 500 tons. What it proved to 
 be is not certain, as no account was preserved 
 
!56 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 of the pieces into which it was cut, but it is 
 known to have exceeded 400 tons. Other 
 masses have been taken out which presented 
 a thickness of over five feet solid copper. 
 The value of the silver picked out from 
 
 Years. 
 
 1848, 
 
 1849, 
 
 1850, 
 
 1851, 
 
 1852, 
 
 1853, 
 
 1854,' 
 
 1856,- 
 
 1856, 
 
 1857, 
 
 1858, 
 
 1859, 
 
 1860, 
 
 In consequence of recent discoveries of 
 masses of copper running into tlic sandstone 
 off from the vein itself, the product of the 
 year 1860 will considerably exceed that of 
 any other year ; the profits, however, are not 
 proportionally large, owing to the low price 
 of copper. To this the diminished prof- 
 its of 1858 and 1859 are partly to be attrib- 
 uted. The product for 1857, 1858, and 
 1859 was divided as follows : — 
 
 among the copper has amounted in one year 
 to about $1,000. 
 
 The reports of the company present the 
 following statistics of the mine from its 
 earliest operations: — 
 
 
 
 Mineral 
 
 
 
 
 
 No.of men 
 
 Expenditure. 
 
 product. Per 
 
 centage 
 
 Value of 
 
 Assessments 
 
 Dividends. 
 
 employed. 
 
 
 Tons. 
 
 
 Copper. 
 
 paid. 
 
 
 20 
 
 $14,000 
 
 6i 
 
 , . 
 
 $1,700 
 
 $10,500 
 
 
 60 
 
 28,000 
 
 52 
 
 
 14,000 
 
 16,500 
 
 
 ■ 90 
 
 58,000 
 
 103 
 
 
 29,000 
 
 36,000 
 
 
 115 
 
 88,000 
 
 307i 
 
 
 90,000 
 
 3,000 
 
 
 212 
 
 108,000 
 
 520 
 
 
 196,000 
 
 
 $30,000 
 
 280 
 
 168,000 
 
 623 
 
 
 210,000 
 
 
 60,000 
 
 392 
 
 218,000 
 
 763 
 
 
 290,000 
 
 
 90,000 
 
 471 
 
 280,933 
 
 1,434 
 
 71 
 
 549,876 
 
 
 200,000 
 
 537 
 
 356,541 
 
 1,859 
 
 72.5 
 
 701,906 
 
 
 300,000 
 
 615 
 
 402,538 
 
 2,058 
 
 74 
 
 736,000 
 
 
 300,000 
 
 713 
 
 384,827 
 
 1,833 
 
 70.1 
 
 595,000 
 
 
 180,000 
 
 718 
 
 384,394 
 
 1,626 
 
 71 
 
 515,786 
 
 
 120,000 
 
 8 montlis to Sept. 1 
 
 .. 1,431 
 
 
 
 
 
 Estimate, 
 
 for the year. 
 
 .. 2,250 
 
 
 
 
 
 Tears. 
 
 1857, 
 1858, 
 1859, 
 
 Masses, 
 lbs. 
 
 3,015,681 
 2,429,989 
 2,040,454 
 
 Barrel work, 
 lbs. 
 
 819,900 
 903,871 
 929,571 
 
 Stamp work, 
 lbs. 
 
 280,512 
 333,352 
 282,092 
 
 Besides the dividends named, the original 
 stockliolders have derived large profits from 
 the sale of portions of the extensive terri- 
 tory, three miles square, which belonged to 
 the company, and the organization upon 
 these tracts of new companies. 
 
 Before the completion of the St. Mary's 
 Canal, no exact records were preserved of 
 the amount of copper sent from Lake Su- 
 perior. But up to the close of navigation in 
 1854 it is supposed the total shipments from 
 the commencement of mining in 1845 had 
 been about 7642 tons of pure copper. 
 
 Since that time, the annual product of 
 rough copper has been as follows : — 
 
 Districts. )86S. 
 
 Keweenaw 2,245 
 
 Portajje 315 
 
 Ontonagon 1,984 
 
 Porcupine, Mo., etc 
 
 1856. 
 2,128 
 4G2 
 2,767 
 
 1S67. 
 
 2,200 
 
 704 
 
 3,190 
 
 IS58. 
 2,125 
 1,116 
 2,655 
 
 1S59. 
 1,910.3 
 1,533.1 
 2,597.6 
 
 1860. 
 
 1,910.8 
 
 3,064.8 
 
 3,588.7 
 
 28.1 
 
 Total 4,544 
 
 5,357 6,094 5,896 6,041.0 8,543.4 
 
 The condition of the Lake Superior mines 
 at the close of the year 1860 is well pre- 
 sented in the business circular of Messrs. 
 Dupce, Beck, & Saylcs, of Boston, received 
 since the preceding pages passed through 
 the hands of the printer and stereotyper. 
 From this we introduce the following ad- 
 ditional matter. The depreciation in the 
 price of copper from a maximum of 29i 
 cents a pound of the few preceding years to 
 a maximum of 24i cents and a miiiiinuni of 
 19 cents, had induced increased economy 
 and care in the administration of the mines, 
 the good eftects of which were already be- 
 ginning to be experienced : — 
 
 " Freights to and from tlio mines from 
 May to September were 25 per cent, less 
 than in 1859. The transportation of a ton 
 of copper from the lake shore to Boston, 
 cost, after the opening of St. Mary's Canal, 
 1855, $20; in 1860, to Boston, 111, and to 
 New York, ^9. The substitution of bitu- 
 minous coal for wood, which has been de- 
 livered during the past summer at the 
 wharves of Portage Lake for $3.25 per ton, 
 will save much money and leave the forests 
 of the country for building materials and 
 for timbering of the mines. With the wants 
 of a rapidly increasing population, new and 
 clieaper sources of supply are constantly 
 
57 
 
 opening in the region itself. Many agricul- 
 tural products, hitherto sent up at great cost 
 from Lower Michigan, are now raised in the 
 neighborhood of the mines, and at the new 
 settlements on the south-western shores of 
 the lake, cheaply and abundantly. At 
 Portage Lake, a machine shop, an iron 
 foundry, and a manufactory of doors, sash- 
 es, blinds, etc., have been put in operation 
 during 1860. The smelting works of the 
 I'ortage Lake Company are now success- 
 fully refining the products of that district. 
 These works consist of four reverberatory and 
 two cupola furnaces, capable of refining 6000 
 tons per annum. The buildings are of the 
 most thorough and substantial character, 
 and the location of the works accessible, at 
 a very small cost of transportation, to all the 
 mines now wrought, or likely to be wrought 
 for many years hence, in that neighbor- 
 hood. Hitherto, to save cost of transporta- 
 tion to the smelting companies in other 
 states, it has been necessary to dress the 
 rough copper to an average probably of 70 
 per cent. Now, by the proximity of the 
 furnaces to the mines, a dressing of 50 per 
 cent, will answer the same purpose, while 
 the refined copper, hitherto rarely ready for 
 the market before the 1st to 15th July, will 
 be sent directly from the lake to New- 
 York or Boston, arriving there in ordinary 
 seasons by the 1st of June. Further, there 
 will be added the new facility of obtaining 
 cash advances through the winter on the 
 warehouse receipts of the smelting company. 
 
 " The opening of the entry into Portage 
 Lake during the past season has been one of 
 the greatest improvements in the navigation 
 of the Lake Superior region since the com- 
 pletion of the ship canal around the falls of 
 St. Mary's river. At the comparatively 
 small cost of $50,000, steamers of the larg- 
 est class able to pass through the St. RLary's 
 Canal may now enter Portage Lake, and dis- 
 charge their cargoes at the docks of the sever- 
 al companies located on its shores. Besides 
 avoiding the loss of time and expense of tran- 
 shipment hitherto necessary, the opening of 
 Portage Lake has provided one of the most 
 capacious and safest harbors in the world. 
 
 " In the Ontonagon district, a plank road 
 has been completed recently, facilitating to 
 a very great extent the transportation to 
 and from the Minesota, National, Rock- 
 land, and Superior mines. 
 
 " The iron interests of Lake Superior are 
 rapidly attaining great importance. The 
 
 amount brought down to Marquette, the 
 port of shipment, in 1860, was : of iron ore 
 from the Jackson Company, 62,980 tons ; 
 Cleveland Company, 47,889; Lake Superior 
 Company, 39,394; total, 150,263. Of pig 
 iron, Pioneer Company, 3050 tons ; S. R. 
 Gay, ISUO; Northern Company, 650; total, 
 6500. Ore valued at $3 ; pig at $25 ; ag- 
 gregate value, $588,289." 
 
 The following statistics are presented of 
 the principal mines : — 
 
 COMPARATIVE TABLE OF SHIPMENTS OF ROUGH COPPER 
 FKOM LAKE SUPERIOR DURING THE SEASONS OF ISo'J 
 AND l^BO. 
 
 The weiirhts of the barrels have been deducted, and the 
 results are friven in tons (2'JOO lbs.) and tenths. 
 
 KEWEENAW DISTRICT. 
 
 1859. 1860. 
 
 Central 112.3 78.6 
 
 Clark 5.6 7.2 
 
 Connecticut 24. 5.3 
 
 Copper Falls 329.4 328. 
 
 Kasfle River 6. 
 
 Nortli American 8.7 
 
 Northwest 73.8 103.5 
 
 Plioenix 32. 31,2 
 
 Pittsburg and Boston 1,254.5 1,357. 
 
 Summit 4. 
 
 1,910.3 1,910.8 
 
 PORTAGE DISTRICT. 
 
 C. C. Douglass 24. 
 
 Isle Roy ate 241.3 458.6 
 
 Franklin 204.7 267. 
 
 Hancock 7.2 
 
 Huron 7.4 73. 
 
 Mesnard .6 
 
 Pewabic 734.4 1,363.8 
 
 Portage 8.7 
 
 Quincy 336. 866.2 
 
 1,533.1 3,064.8 
 
 ONTONAGON DISTRICT. 
 
 Adventure 139,4 29.7 
 
 Aztec 15.3 4.9- 
 
 Boliemian 3. 
 
 Evergreen Bluff 27. 41.9 
 
 Hamilton 7 7.9 
 
 Mass 12.3 
 
 Minesota 1.623 5 2,183.4 
 
 National 323.2 727.8 
 
 Nebraska 9.8 26.4 
 
 Norwich 22. 
 
 Ogiraa 35.4 
 
 Ridge 27.8 
 
 Rockland 347. 552.7 
 
 Superior 1.7 14. 
 
 Toltec 9.4 
 
 2,597.6 3,588 7 
 
 Keweenaw District 1,910.3 1,910.8 
 
 Portage 1,533.1 3,050 8 
 
 Ontonagon 2,597.6 3,563.7 
 
 Porcupine Mountain 20.5 
 
 Sundry mines 7.6 
 
 6,041.0 8,543.4 
 
58 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Franklin : the product for the year end- 
 ing November 30 has been 112 masses, 
 weighing 72,166 lbs. ; 721 barrels of barrel 
 work, 469,116 lbs.; and 67 barrels stamp 
 ■work, 63,816 lbs. Total, 6iJ5,098 lbs., 
 equal to ISOy'j tons refined copper. The 
 actual shipments were about 207 tons rough, 
 or 158 tons ingot copper. The stamps arc 
 Ball's, consisting of two pairs of two heads 
 each. They did not commence work till 
 November 19. 
 
 Huron : total shipments this year, 65y\ 
 tons of 641 per cent, barrel work, and 12,- 
 311 lbs. of refined copper, smelted at the 
 Portage Lake works. There is ready for 
 the stamps an amount equivalent, at a fair 
 estimate, to the quantity shipped this sea- 
 son. 
 
 Isle Royalc : total shipments this season 
 458Jj tons, averaging over 70 per cent. 
 Preparations have been made for opening a 
 largo amount of ground during the winter, 
 ■with a view to large shipments at the open- 
 ing of navigation. 
 
 Minesota: November returns, 150 tons. 
 The total shipments in 1860 were 1992 
 masses, and 2127 barrels of barrel and 
 stamp work. Net weight, 4,366,718 lbs. 
 This is the largest shipment made in one 
 year by any mine at the lake. The promise 
 for future production is as great, at least, as 
 the result for this year. 
 
 Pewabic : November product, 304/^^ tons. 
 Tlie actual shipments for the season have 
 been 2,727,632 lbs. The product for one 
 year to November 30 was as follows: 467 
 masses, weighing 348,658 lbs. ; 2294 bar- 
 rels kiln or barrel work, -weighing net, 
 1,450,778 lbs.; 342 barrels No" 1, stamp, 
 379,718 lbs.; 399 barrels No. 2, stamp, 
 389,973 lbs.; 401 barrels No. 3, stamp, 
 346,912 lbs.; add on tributcrs' account, 
 27,428. Total, 2,943,467 lbs. 
 
 The smelting returns are not yet all made, 
 but on an estimate based on past experience, 
 the result will not vary much from 2,03u,- 
 992 lbs., or about 1000 tons of ingot cop- 
 per. 
 
 During the year there have been shipped 
 1533 ounces of silver. 
 
 Pittsburg and Boston : November prod- 
 uct, 114 tons. Total shipments, 1357 tons. 
 Total product for the year, 1402 tons. The 
 annual report recently published gives the 
 result of the year ending December 1, 1859. 
 The product for that year was l,099Jj tons, 
 yielding 64yYo P*^'' cent., or 7o7/j tons in- 
 
 got copper. The receipts, including $2,- 
 405 17 from sales of silver, were $292,- 
 503 14. The expenditures were $272,- 
 175 75, leaving net profit, $20,327 39. 
 
 COPPER SMELTING 
 
 The ores of copper, unlike those of most 
 of the other metals, are not in general re- 
 duced at the mines; but after being concen- 
 trated by mechanical processes called dress- 
 ing — which consist in assorting the piles ac- 
 cording to their qualities, and crushing, jig- 
 ging, and otherwise washing the poorer sorts 
 — they are sold to the smelters, wlioseestab- 
 lishments may be at great distances off, even 
 on the other side of the globe. The richer 
 ores, worth per ton three or four times as 
 many dollars as the figures that represent 
 their percentage of metal, well repay the 
 cost of transportation, and are conveniently 
 reduced at smelting works situated on the 
 coast near the markets for copper, and where 
 the fuel required for their reduction is cheap. 
 At Swansea, in South Wales, there are eight 
 great smelting establishments, to which all 
 the ores from Cornwall and Devon are car- 
 ried, and which receive other ores from al- 
 most all parts of the world. It is stated that 
 in this district there are nearly 600 furnaces 
 emploj-cd, which consume about 500,000 
 tons of coal per annum, and give employ- 
 ment to about 4,000 persons besides colliers. 
 The amount of copper the^- supply is more 
 than half of that consumed by all nations. 
 The total product of fine copper produced 
 bv all the smelting establishments of Great 
 Britain for 1857 is stated to be 18,238 tons, 
 worth £2,079,323. 
 
 The copper smelting works of the United 
 States are those upon the coast, depending 
 chiefly upon foreign supplies of ores, and 
 those of the interior for melting and refining 
 the Lake Superior copper. There are also 
 the furnaces at the Tcimcssce mines, which 
 have been already noticed. The former are 
 situated at the following localities : At 
 Point Shirley, in Boston haibor, are the 
 furnaces of the Revere Copper Company, 
 which also has rolling mills and other -works 
 connected with the manufacture of copper 
 at Canton, on the Boston and Providence 
 railroad. At Taunton, Mass., a similar estab- 
 lishment to that at Canton is owned by the 
 Messrs. Crocker, of that town. There are 
 smelting furnaces at New Ilavcn, Conn. ; at 
 Bergen Point, in New York harbor ; and at 
 Baltimore, on a point in the outer harbor. 
 
COPPER. 
 
 59 
 
 The furnaces established for workinp; the 
 L;ike Superior copper are at Detroit, Cleve- 
 hiiid, and Pittsburg. At the last named 
 are two separate establishments, with each 
 of which is connected a rolling mill, at 
 which the ingot copper is converted into 
 sheets for home consumption and the eastern 
 market. A furnace was also built at Port- 
 age lake, Lake Superior, in 1860, of capacity 
 equal to melting 6U00 tons of copper annu- 
 ally. The details and extent of the opera- 
 tions carried on by the smelting works ap- 
 pear to have been carefully kept from publi- 
 cation. In a work on " Copper and Copper 
 Smelting," by A. Snowdon Piggott, M. D., 
 who had charge of the chemical assays, etc., 
 for the Baltimore Company, published in 
 1858, while the English processes are fully 
 described, no information is given as to the 
 methods adopted at the American works ; 
 and of their production all the information 
 is contained in the two closing sentences of 
 the appendix, as follows: "Of the copper- 
 smelting establishments of the United States 
 I have no statistics. Baltimore turns out 
 about 8,000,000 pounds of refined copper 
 annually." Applications which have been 
 made by the writer to the proprietors of 
 several of the establishments for information 
 as to the business, have been entirely unsuc- 
 cessful. The total production of copper in 
 1858 was supposed to be about 13,000 tons 
 per annum; and of this about 7o00 tons 
 were required by the rolling mills for mak- 
 ing sheet copper, sheet brass, and yellow 
 metal. 
 
 The French treatise on Metallurgy by 
 Professor Rivot contains the only published 
 description of the American method of 
 smelting copper. By the English process, 
 the separation of the metal from its ores is 
 a long and tedious series of alternate roast- 
 ings or calcinations, and fusions in rever- 
 beratory furnaces. The system is particu- 
 larly applicable to tlie treatment of poor, 
 sulphurous ores contaminated with other 
 metals, as iron, arsenic, etc., and can only be 
 conducted to advantage where fuel is very 
 cheap, the consumption of this being at the 
 rate of about 20 tons to the ton of copper 
 obtained. The process employed in Ger- 
 many is much more simple, and the methods 
 in use at the American smelting works are 
 more upon the plan of these. Blast or cu- 
 pola furnaces supply at some of them the 
 place of reverbcratories, and the separation 
 of the metal is completed in great part by 
 
 one or two smeltings. The treatment of the 
 Lake Superior copper is comparatively an 
 easy operation. For this large reverberatory 
 furnaces are employed, through the roof of 
 which is an opening large enough to admit 
 masses of 3 to 3 J tons weight, which are 
 raised by cranes and lowered into the fur- 
 nace. The barrels of barrel work arc intro- 
 duced in the same way, and left in the fur- 
 nace without unpacking. When the furnace 
 is charged, the opening in the top is secure- 
 ly closed by fire-proof masonry, and the fire 
 of bituminous coal is started, the flame from 
 which plays over the bridge, and, reflected 
 from the roof, strikes upon the copper, caus- 
 ing it gradually to sink down and at last 
 flow in a liquid mass. A small portion of 
 the copper by the oxidizing action of the 
 heated gases is converted into a suboxide, 
 which is partially reduced again, and in part 
 goes into the slags in the condition of a 
 silicate of copper, the metal of which is not 
 entirely recovered. The mixture of quartz, 
 calcareous spar, and epidote accompanying 
 the copper, is sometimes such as to melt 
 and form a good cinder without addition of 
 any other substance, but usually some lime- 
 stone or other suitable material is added as 
 a flux. Complete fusion is effected in 12 to 
 15 hours according to the size of the masses, 
 and this is kept up for about an hour in 
 order that the tine particles of copper may 
 find their way through the fluid slag, which 
 floats upon the metal. Working tools call- 
 ed rabbles are then introduced through the 
 side-doors of the furnace, and the charge is 
 stirred up and the slag is drawn out through 
 the door. It falls upon the ground, and is 
 taken when sufficiently cool to the cupola or 
 slag furnaces where it is chilled with water 
 to render it easy to break up. Those por- 
 tions which contain as much as one fourth 
 per cent, of copper are reserved to be pass- 
 ed through the slag furnace. The total 
 amount of slag is usually less than 20 per 
 cent, of the whole charge. In the melting 
 the copper absorbs carbon, which if allow- 
 ed to remain would render it brittle and 
 unfit for use. To remove it the fire is so 
 arranged that the gases pass through with 
 much unconsumed air ; this playing on the 
 surface of the copper produces a suboxide 
 of the metal, which in the course of half an 
 hour is quite taken up by the copper, and 
 coming in contact with the particles of car- 
 bon the oxygen combines with this, and re- 
 moves it in the form of carbonic acid gas. 
 
60 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 It now remains to remove tlie excess of 
 oxygen introduced, wiiich is eftected by the 
 ordinary method of refining. A large pro- 
 portion of fuel is employed on the grate for 
 the amount of air admitted through it, so 
 that the flames as they pass over the bridge 
 convey little free oxygen, and the surface of 
 the metal is covered with fine charcoal. 
 After a little time a pole of green wood is 
 thrust into the melted copper and stirred 
 about so long as gases escape from the sur- 
 face. It is then taken out, and if on testing 
 the copper some suboxide still remains, the 
 refining is cautiously continued with char- 
 coal, and just when, as appears by the tests, 
 all the oxide is reduced, the work of dipping 
 out the metal is commenced. This is done 
 by large iron ladles, the whole set of men 
 employed at two furnaces, to the number 
 of about 12, coming to this work and tak- 
 ing turns in the severe task. They protect 
 themselves from the intense heat by wet 
 cloths about their arms, and as quickly as 
 possible bale out a ladle full of copper and 
 empty it into one or more of the ingot 
 moulds, of which 36 are arranged in front 
 of the furnace-door upon three parallel bars 
 over a trough of water. As the metal be- 
 comes solid in each mould, this is upset, 
 letting the ingot fall into the water. The 
 weight of the ingot being 20 pounds, the 
 filling of them all removes 720 pounds of 
 copper from the furnace. The metal that 
 remains is then tested, and according to its 
 condition the discharging may be continued 
 or it may be necessary to oxidize the copper 
 again and repeat the refining, or merely to 
 throw more charcoal upon the surface and 
 increase the heat. The time required to 
 ladle out the whole charge is from four to 
 six hours. When this is completed the sole 
 of the furnace is repaired, by stopping the 
 cracks with sand and smoothing the surface 
 to get all ready for the next charge ; and at 
 the same time the second furnace has reach- 
 ed the refining stage of the process. One 
 charge to a furnace is made every evcniua;, 
 and as in the night it is necessary only to 
 keep up the fires, the groat labor of the proc- 
 ess comes wholly in the day time. 
 
 The following is the estimated cost at 
 Detroit of the smelting, on a basis of two 
 furnaces, each of which is charged with four 
 and a half to five tons of mass copper, con- 
 suming two and a half tons of coal, and pro- 
 ducing from three to three and a half tons 
 of ingots : — 
 
 Labor, 15 hands, at $1.50 $22.50 
 
 Bituminous coal, 5 tons, at $5 25.00 
 
 Wood and cliarcoal 1.25 
 
 Repairs to furnace, average for the season.. 2.00 
 
 $50.75 
 
 To this should be added, for superintend- 
 ence, ofiice, and general expenses, perhaps 
 ten dollars more, which would make the 
 cost for six or seven tons of ingot copper, 
 160.75, or $9 to $10 per ton. At Pitts- 
 burg the rate charged has been $11 per ton; 
 and fuel is there afibrded at about one third 
 the amount allowed in the above estimate. 
 
 The cupola furnaces for treating the slags 
 are of very simple plan and construction. 
 They are of cylindrical form, about ten feet 
 high, and three feet diameter inside. Their 
 walls, the thickness of a single length of 
 fire brick, are incased in boiler-plate iron, 
 and stand upon a cast-iron ring, which is 
 itself supported upon four cast-iron columns 
 about three feet above the ground. Trans- 
 verse iron bars support a circular plate, and 
 upon this the refractory sand for tlie sole of 
 the furnace is placed, and well beaten down 
 to tlie thickness of a foot, with a sharp slope 
 toward the tapping hole. A low chimney 
 conveys away the gaseous products of com- 
 bustion, and through the base of it the 
 workmen introduce the cliarges. The blast 
 is introduced by three tuyeres a foot above 
 the sole ; but before it enters the furnace it 
 is heated by passing through a channel around 
 the furnace. A steady current is obtained by 
 the use of three double acting blowing cylin- 
 ders, which give a pressure equal to about 
 three and a half inches of mercury. 
 
 The hands employed at the Detroit es- 
 tablishment, besides the superintendent and 
 liead smelter, are eighteen furnace men and 
 from five to ten workmen, according to the 
 arrivals of copper during the season of navi- 
 gation. After the stock thus received is 
 worked up, the furnaces remain idle during 
 the remainder of the winter. 
 
 USEFUL APPLICATIONS OP COPPER. 
 
 The uses of copper are so numerous and 
 important that the metal must rank next in 
 value to iron. In ancient times, indeed, it 
 was the more useful metal of the two, being 
 abundant among many nations to whom iron 
 was not known. In the ancient Scandina- 
 vian tumuli recently opqned in Denmark, 
 among the various implements of stone were 
 found swords, daggers, and knives, the blades 
 of which were, in some instances, of copper, 
 
61 
 
 and in some of gold, while the cutting edges 
 were formed of iron, showing that this was 
 more rare and valuable than either copper or 
 gold. It has been supposed that several of 
 the ancient nations, as the Egyptians, Greeks, 
 etc., possessed the art of hardening copper, 
 so as to make it serve the purposes of steel. 
 That they employed it for such uses as those 
 to which we now apply tools of steel is cer- 
 tain, and also that the specimens of some of 
 their copper tools are considerably harder 
 than any we make of the same metal. These 
 are found, on analysis, to contain about one 
 part in ten of tin, which, it is known, in- 
 creases, when added in small proportions, 
 the hardness of copper, and this was prob- 
 ably still further added to by hammering. 
 
 Among the most important uses of the metal 
 at present is that of sheathing the bottoms 
 of ships in order to protect the timbers from 
 the ravages of marine animals, and present a 
 smooth surface for the easy passage of the 
 vessel through the water. The metal is well 
 adapted, from its softness and tenacity, for 
 rolling into sheets, and these were first pre- 
 pared for this use for the Alarm frigate of 
 the royal navy, in 1761. Sheet lead had 
 been in use before this time, but was soon 
 after given up for copper. On account of 
 ihe rapid deterioration of the copper by the 
 action of the sea-water, the naval department 
 of the British government applied, in 1823, 
 to the Hoyal Society for some method of 
 preserving the metal. This was furnished 
 by Sir Humphry Davy, who recommend 
 ed applying strips of cast iron under the 
 copper sheets, which, by the galvanic cur- 
 rent excited, would be corroded instead 
 of the copper. The application answered 
 the purpose intended, but soon had to be 
 given up, for the copper, protected from 
 chemical action, it was found, became cov- 
 ered with barnacles and other shell-fish, so 
 as seriously to impair the sailing qualities of 
 the vessels, and for this reason it has been 
 found necessary to submit to the natural wast- 
 ing of the metal, and replace the sheets as fast 
 as they become corroded. 
 
 Various alloys have been proposed as sub- 
 stitutes for copper. That known as yellow 
 metal, or Muntz's, has been the most success- 
 ful and has been very generally introduced. 
 It consists of copper alloyed with about 40 
 per cent, of zinc, and is prepared by plung- 
 ing cakes of zinc into a bath of melted cop- 
 per contained in a reverberatory furnace. 
 The volatilization of the zinc and oxidation 
 
 of the metals is guarded against by a cover- 
 ing of fine charcoal kept upon the melted 
 surface. The bolts, nails, and other fasten- 
 ings for the sheathing, and for various other 
 parts of the ship, are made also of copper 
 and of yellow metal ; and to secure the great- 
 est strength, they should be cast at once in 
 the forms in which they are to be used. 
 The manufacture of all these articles is ex- 
 tensively carried on at the different copper 
 establishments in Massachusetts, Connecti- 
 cut, and Baltimore. 
 
 Sheet copper is also applied to many other 
 very important uses, as for copper boilers 
 and pipes, for large stills and condensers, 
 the vacuum pans of sugar refineries, and a 
 multitude of utensils for domestic purposes, 
 and for employment in the different arts. 
 For engraving upon it is prepared of the 
 purest quality and of different thicknesses, ac- 
 cording to the kind of engraving for which 
 it is to be used. The engraver cuts it to the 
 size he requires, planishes it,and gives to it the 
 dead smooth surface peculiar to engraving 
 plates. Thesmaller utensils of sheet copper, as 
 urns, vases, etc., are very ingeniously hammer- 
 ed out from a flat circular sheet. As the ham- 
 mering is first applied to the central portion, 
 this spreads and takes the form of a bowl. 
 As the metal becomes harder and brittle by 
 the operation, its softness and ductility are 
 restored by annealing, a process that must 
 often be repeated as the hammering is con- 
 tinued, and toward the last, when the metal 
 has become more susceptible to the change 
 induced by the application of the hammer, 
 the annealing must be very carefully attended 
 to, and tlie whole process be conducted with 
 much skill and judgment acquired by long 
 experience. 
 
 For larger and more common hollow ar- 
 ticles, the sheet copper is folded around, and 
 lapped by various sorts of joints, some of 
 which are secured by rivets, and some by a 
 double lap, the two edges locking into each 
 other, and made close by hammering. The 
 edges are also soldered either with soft 
 or hard solder. For the latter an alloy is 
 made for the purpose, by melting in a crucible 
 a quantity of brass, and then stirring in one- 
 half or one-third as much zinc, until the blue 
 flame disappears. The mixture is then turn- 
 ed out into a shallow pan, and when cold the 
 plate is heated nearly red hot, and beaten 
 on an anvil or in a mortar. This is the hard 
 solder of the braziers. 
 
 A still more important application of the 
 
62 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES 
 
 copper is in the manufacture of the alloy 
 known as brass ; and that called bronze also 
 serves many useful purposes. The former is 
 composed of copper and zinc, the latter of 
 copper and tin. It is a curious fact in met- 
 allurgy that brass was extensively manufac- 
 tured, and used more commonly than any 
 sinrrle metal or other alloy, many centuries 
 before the existence of such a metal as zinc 
 was known. It was prepared by melting 
 copper and introducing fragments of the 
 lapis calaminaris, an ore of zinc, in which 
 the oxide of the metal is combined with car- 
 bonic acid. Charcoal was also added to the 
 mixture, and by the reaction with this the 
 zinc ore was reduced to tlie metallic state, 
 and at once united with the copper, without 
 appearing as a distinct metal. This process 
 is still in use for making brass, but the more 
 common method is to introduce slips of 
 copper into melted zinc, or to plunge beneath 
 melted copper hnnps of zinc held in iron 
 tongs. The proportion of the two metals is 
 always uncertain, owing to the unknown 
 quantity of zinc that is consumed and es- 
 capes in fumes This is prevented as much 
 as possible by covering the melted metal 
 witli fine charcoal, and by throwing in pieces 
 of glass, which melt and cover the mixture 
 with a thin protecting layer. Old brass is 
 much used in making new, and the addition 
 of quantities of this to the pot containingtho 
 other ingredients, adds to the uncertainty of 
 the composition. The best proportion of 
 the two metals is believed to be two parts of 
 copper to one of zinc, which is expressed by 
 the term " eight-ounce brass," meaning eight 
 ounces of zinc to sixteen of copper. Sixteen- 
 ounce brass — the two metals being equal — 
 is a beautiful golden yellow alloy called 
 prince's metal. But all brass of more than 
 ten ounces of zinc to the pound of copper is 
 whitish, crystalline, hard, and brittle ; of less 
 than ten ounces it is malleable, soft, and 
 ductile. The alloys known as pinchbeck, 
 Manheim gold, bath metal, etc., formerly 
 much in use as imitations of gold, are about 
 three to four ounce brass. 
 
 Brass combines a number of excellent 
 qualities, which adapt it for many uses. Its 
 compactness, durability, strength, and soft- 
 ness, render it an excellent material for fine 
 work, and nothing, except tin, perhaps, is bet- 
 ter adapted for shapiig in the lathe. In use 
 it is not liable to rust by exposure, is easily 
 kept clean, and takes a polish almost as beau- 
 tiful as that of gold. It is hence a favorite 
 
 material for the works of watches and clocks, 
 almost all sorts of instruments in which great 
 hardness is not essential, and for various 
 houseliold utensils, and ornaments upon fur- 
 niture. In thin plates it is stamped and em- 
 bossed in figures, and is thus cheaply applied 
 to miiny useful and ornamental purposes. 
 Its ductility is such, that those sorts contain- 
 ing little zinc arc beaten out, as in Dutch 
 gilding, like gold-leaf itself, so as to be used 
 as a cheap substitute for this in gilding in 
 some cases. It is also drawn out into wire, 
 often of great fineness ; and of the suitalile 
 sizes of this there is a very large consumption 
 in the manufacture of pins, and hooks and 
 eyes. By ingenious machinery the brass 
 wires are clipped to their proper length for 
 pins, pointed, headed, and after being tinned, 
 are stuck in paper, with very little atten- 
 tion from the workmen. This manufacture 
 serves to exemplify the perfection of mncliin- 
 ery, and some of the most admirable of this, 
 particularly that by which the finished pins 
 are stuck in their papers, is a peculiarly 
 American invention, and worth, to the manu- 
 facturers at Waterbury alone, many tliousand 
 dollars annually. The solid-headed pin, 
 made somewhat after the manner in which 
 cut nails are headed, was invented by two cit- 
 izens of Rhode Island, Mr. Slocumand Mr.S. 
 G. Reynolds. This was before the year 1840. 
 The brass pins and hooks and eyes are cov- 
 ered with a coating of tin by placing them 
 in a barnd, togetlier with about twice their 
 weight of tin in grains, several ounces of 
 cream of tartar, and several gallons of warm 
 water. The barrel is then made to revolve 
 upon its axis, until the pins or other articles 
 are perfectly clean. After this they are 
 boiled in a similar mixture. 
 
 Muih of ihe br.'iss of the ancients was 
 properly bronze — that is, a compound of cop- 
 per and tin. Tiiis alloy, in difierent propor- 
 tions of its ingredients, is still of very great 
 service. Gun metal— the material of the so- 
 called brass cannon — is composed of copper 
 96 to 108 parts, and tin 11 parts. The com- 
 pound resists wear extremely well, but its 
 strength is only about one-half that of 
 wrought iron. iStatues, and lianl castings for 
 machinery, are formed of this alloy. Messrs. 
 Mitchell, Vance & Co., of New York, have 
 been very successful in casting bronze statu- 
 ettes and ornaments, clock cases, &e., which 
 rival the antique bronze in beauty. One 
 of the most noted foundries for the casting 
 ot caimon, statues, and bronze ornaments in 
 
63 
 
 ths United States is that of the Messrs. 
 Ames, at Chicopee, Mas.-:. The equestrian 
 statue of Washingion, in Union i-qiiare, New 
 York, is one of their most succes-fiil prodnc- 
 tio;is. The French l)njnze contains 2 jiarts 
 of tin, 1 of lead, 6 of zinc, and 01 of copper. 
 15ell-metal i-i a bronze usually consisting of 
 7 parts of copper and 22 of tin. The larg- 
 est bell in the country, that formerly on 
 the City Hall, in New York, weighs 23,000 
 pounds, and was cast in Boston. The 
 largest number of bells is probaljly pro- 
 duced at the foundry of the Me.-srs. ]\Ien- 
 eely, at Troy, N. Y. The Chinese gong is 
 now an American manufacture, composed of 
 bell-metal, which, after being cast, is forged 
 luider tlie hammer, between two di-ks ol' 
 irun. The casting is made malleable by 
 plunging, while hot, into cold water. 
 
 As with zinc, copper forms an alloy m;de 
 to imitate gold, so with tin and nickel it forms 
 a combination resembling silver, known as 
 (lerman silver. The proportions of the met- 
 als are 8 parts of copper to either 3 or 4 each 
 of tlie two other metals. This is used in the 
 manufacture of spoons, forks, and other uten- 
 sils, and instead of brass in various instru- 
 ments. It is plated with silver, and is as 
 beautiful as the genuine silver. 
 
 Another alloy of copper and tin is the 
 telescope or speculum metal, which consists 
 of about one-third tin and two-thirds copper. 
 It is of a steel-white color, very hard and 
 brittle, and susceptible of a high polish, 
 wiiich is not soon tarnished, qualities that 
 cause it to be used for the mirrors of tele- 
 scopes. 
 
 Copper is largely used in the coinage, pure 
 in the cent, combined with nickel in the 
 three and five cent pieces, and as an alloy in 
 the silver and gold pieces. ' Copper is also 
 in demand both for electro-plating purposes 
 and for electrotype plates, which have almost 
 superseded the old stereotype plates. 
 
 Among the later alloys of copper, is what 
 is called oroide of gold, which in its best 
 qualities consists of pure co]iper, 100 parts ; 
 zinc or tin. 17 parts ; magnesia, G parts ;' sal- 
 anmionia, 0.5 parts; quicklime, 0.125 parts ; 
 tartar of commerce, 9 parts. Aluminium 
 Bronze 90 parts copper and 10 of aluminium. 
 
 'I Iiere ai e several alloys closely imitating 
 silver in which copper is the largest constit- 
 uent. One consists of 70 parts copper, 20 
 nickel, 5,^ zinc, and 4^ cadnium. Minargent 
 consists of 100 parts copper, 70 nickel, 5 
 tungsten, and 1 aluminium. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 GOLD. 
 
 Although the discovery of gold mines 
 was tlie chief motive that led to the settle- 
 ment of the American continent, those of the 
 United States appear to have escaped notice 
 until the present century. The only excep- 
 tion to this may be in the discovery made 
 by some Europeans of the gold region of 
 northern Georgia at a period long antece- 
 dent to the occupation of this district by the 
 whites. Of this fact no written record is 
 preserved ; but in working the deposit mines 
 of the Nacoochoe valley, in Habersham coun- 
 ty, there were discovered, about the year 
 1842, various utensils and vestiges of huts, 
 which evidently had been constructed by 
 civilized men, and had been buried there 
 several centuries. It is supposed they be- 
 longed to De Soto's party, which passed 
 through this region in the sixteenth century 
 on their exploring expedition from Florida 
 to the Mississippi river. The earlier his- 
 torians hardly mention gold as even being 
 supposed to exist in the colonies. Salmon, 
 in the third volume of his "Modern His- 
 tory," 1746, merely alludes to a gold mine 
 in Virginia, which of late " had made much 
 noise," but does not even natne the locality, 
 and evidently attaches no importance to it. 
 In Joft'erson's " Notes on Virginia" mention 
 is made of the discovery of a piece of gold 
 of 17 dwts. near the Rappahannock. In 
 1799, as mentioned b}' Wheeler in his " His- 
 tory of North Carolina," a son of Conrad 
 Reed picked up a piece of gold as large as 
 a small smoothing iron from the bed of a 
 brook on his father's farm, in Cabarrus coun- 
 t}', and its value not being known it was 
 kept for several years in the house to hold 
 the door open, and was then sold to a silver- 
 smith for S3. 50. In Drayton's " View of 
 South Carolina," 1802, the metal is stated 
 to have been found on Paris Mountain, in 
 Greenville district. About this time it be- 
 gan to be met with in considerable lumps in 
 Cabarrus county, N. C, and not long after- 
 ward in Montgomer}' and Anson counties. 
 At Reed's mine, in Cabarrus, the discovery 
 by a negro of a lump weighing 28 lbs. avoir- 
 dupois, near the same stream already referred 
 to, led to increased activity in exploring the 
 gravelly deposits along the courses of the 
 brooks and rivers of this region, and numer- 
 ous new localities of the metal were rapidly- 
 discovered. A much larger proportion of 
 
64 
 
 MINING IXDISTBY OF THE TSITED STATES. 
 
 gold wEjs collected, during these earlier work- 
 inss, iu coarse lumps than in the operations 
 of later times — pieces of metal of one to 
 several pounds weight being often found. 
 Before the year 1S20, as stated in Bruce's 
 Mineralogknl Journnl (vol. i., p. 125), the 
 quantity of American gold received at the 
 mint at Philadelphia amounted to §43,689. 
 All of this was from Xorth Carolina. In 
 1827 there had been received from the same 
 source §110,000. But besides this amount, 
 a considerable proportion of the gold prod- 
 uct was consumed bv jewellers, who paid a 
 better price than was received from the mint, 
 and was retained by the banks, in which it 
 was deposited. It also circulated to some 
 extent as a medium of exchange in the min- 
 ing reirion, being carried about in quills, and 
 received bv the merchants usually at the rate 
 of ninety cents a dwt. The total product 
 of the mines must, therefore, have been 
 much larger than appeai-s from the mint re- 
 turns. In 1829, Virginia and South Caro- 
 lina began to appear as gold-producing states 
 — -there being deposited in the mint from 
 the former ajold to the value of 82,500, and 
 from the latter of -§3,500. The same year 
 the rich gold deposits of northern Georgia 
 were discovered, and suddenly became very 
 productive, so that the receipts at the mint 
 from this state for the year 18-30 amounted 
 to §212,000. Gold mining had now become 
 an established branch of the productive in- 
 dustry of the states, and as its importance 
 increased, the necessity was felt of the estab- 
 lishment of branch mints in the mining 
 region. One was constructed by act of Con- 
 gress at Dablonesca, Lumpkin ciiunty, Geor- 
 gia, and another at Charlotte, Mecklenburg 
 county, X. C. ; and both commenced coining 
 gold in 1838. From the irregular manner 
 in which the gold deposits were worked, and 
 their uncertain yield, the annual production 
 of the mines was very variable. In a single 
 year the mint at Dahlonega received and 
 coined gold to the value of §600,000 ; and 
 until the discovery of the California gold 
 mines, the American production was estim.a- 
 ted to average annually about §100,000. It 
 was, however, gradually declining in impor- 
 tance from the year 1845 ; and of late years 
 has dwindled away, so as not to amount to 
 enouijh for the support of the branch mints, 
 the abolition of which by act of Congress 
 was generally looked for in 1857 and 1858. 
 The late introduction at the mines of Xorth 
 Carolina aud Georgia of the hydraulic and 
 
 sluice washing, which has proved highly suc- 
 cessful in California, gives encouragement 
 th.it these mines may again soon became as 
 productive as before. 
 
 The rock formations of the United States, 
 in which gold mines are worked, follow the 
 ran(;e of the Appalachians, and are produc- 
 tive chiefly along their eastern side in a belt 
 of country sometimes attaining a width of 
 75 miles, as along the southern part of Xorth 
 Carolina, and in Georgia in two distinct belts 
 which are separated by a district of forma- 
 tions unproductive in gold. The extreme 
 northern gold mines on this range are in 
 Canada East, upon the Chaudiere river and 
 its tributaries, the Du Loup and the Toufle 
 des Pins. In 1851 and 1852, deposits were 
 worked upon these streams, and about 1,900 
 dwts. were collected — found among the 
 gravel which lay in the crevices formed by 
 the rajjsed edges of the upturned argillaceous 
 and talcose slates. The pieces were all small, 
 only one weighing as much as 4 ounces. The 
 returns were not sufficient to cover the out- 
 lays, and the working was consequently 
 abandoned. 
 
 The next localities on the range toward 
 the south which have furnished gold are in 
 ^'ermont, on the western border of AVind- 
 sor county, in the towns of Bridgewater and 
 Plymouth. At Xewfane, in Windham county, 
 a piece of gold was found in 1826, which 
 weighed 8i^ oz. ; but the only successful at- 
 tempts to work the deposits were com- 
 menced in 1859, in Windsor county, and 
 have since been prosecuted to limited ex- 
 tent. At Bridgewater, the gold has been 
 found in place, in a quartz vein, associated 
 with galena, and pyritous copper, and iron. 
 It has not proved sufficiently rich to work. 
 Through western Massachusetts and Connect- 
 icut, and the south-east part of Xew York, 
 and through Xew Jersey and Pennsylvania, 
 the talcose and argillaceous slates, and the 
 other rocks of the gold belt, appear to be 
 unproductive in this metal, a little gold only 
 having been met with in some of the ores 
 worked for lead and copper in Lancaster 
 county, near the borders of Maryland. 
 Specimens of quartz rich in gold have been 
 found in Montgomery county, in the last- 
 named state ; but no mine has been worked 
 there. 
 
 In Virginia the deposit mines of Louisa 
 
 county especially were very productive even 
 
 in 1833, and they had not been worked long 
 
 j before rich veins were found, and operationa 
 
t-^&#^l 
 
 <e i., 
 
 "} ^v;^i n, 
 
 
 nTDEAtlLIC MDTDfG. 
 
 By this operation, as described in the text, hills of loose materials or of decomposed slates and other 
 roclis containing gold, are washed down, and the earthy matters are swept away through the sluices 
 made either of wooden troughs or by excavating channels in the bed-rock. In these the coarse gold is 
 caught against the bars placed at intervals across the sluices. This is a purely Califomian method, and 
 has proved so effectual in collecting the little gold buried in large bodies of earth, that it is now generally 
 adopted in other gold regions in which the conditions are favorable for its practice. 
 
— s £ 
 
 TUNNELLING AT TABLE MOUNTAIN, CALIFOKNIA. 
 
 This represents a common method of reaching beds of rich ores tliat He at considerable depths 
 below the surface, by wliich tho labor of removing the superficial deposits is avoided. Veins of ores, 
 whether lying at a steep or gentle inclination, are often explored by such tunnels driven in upon their 
 course. Tho sides and roof may he protected or not, as the ground is soft or solid, by timbering. 
 
 At the outside of tho tunnel below the railroad track is the machine called the "long torn," a shallow 
 trough, ten to twenty feet long, and about sixteen inches wide. Tho lower end, which turns up gently 
 from the plane of the bottom, is shod with iron and perforated with holes. The water from the mine is 
 turned on the upper end, and flows up this slope and through the holes, carrying with it the finer mud 
 and sand which are continually thrown into the tom. One man at the lower end keeps the mud in motion 
 and removes the coarse lumps. Under the lower end of the tom is placed a "rifSo box," in which mer- 
 cury may be used to advantage if the gold is in fine particles. 
 
T7 ^ 
 
 r'yj ^ts^? 
 
 LAKGK ROCKKR USED IN CALIFORNIA WITH QUICKSILVER. 
 
 Tho above cut represents a rocker of unusual dimensions, wliich has been introduced in some places 
 in California, and is employed particularly for auriferous deposits in which the gold is in too line particles 
 to be caught in the long torn. It is slightly inclined, and is rocked by one man while the others collect 
 the gravel and throw it upon the perforated iron plate. Across the bottom of tho trough are placed 
 "riffle bars," and behind each one of these some mercury. The fine particles of gold coming in contacl 
 with this are caught and retained in the form of amalgam. The coarse gravel falls off the lower end of 
 the plate, while the fine mud and sand are washed by the water through the holes in the plate. 
 
sT,\5iPS Fou cursiiiNii ctu.ii ujm:s 
 
 This cut represents a common funii of stumps, sucli as are used for pulverizinif auriferous quartz 
 or otlier ores. They are A^ariously arranged at dirt'erent nulls ; sometimes four or five running in one 
 set, and several sets beini; jilaced on the same line, liut separate from each other. This arran>;ement is 
 more convenient for stopping a portion at a time as may be required for repairs or for collecting the very 
 coarse gold under the stamps which cannot pass through the grating or the plates, perforated with many 
 holes, that are usually employed in front of the stamps. 
 
GOLD. 
 
 69 
 
 upon these had been carried on to consider- 
 able extent previous to 1836, principall}' in 
 the counties of Spottsylvania, Orange, Louisa, 
 Fluvanna, and Buckingham. Some of the 
 mines produced at times very rich returns, but 
 their yield was, for the most part, exceedingly 
 irregular, the gold occurring in rich pockets 
 or nests, very unequally scattered in the vein. 
 The occasional richness of the veins caused 
 the attention of wealthy capitalists in this 
 country and in England to be directed to 
 this region, and large outlays were made, in 
 providing powerful engines and other suita- 
 ble machinery for working the ores, and in 
 opening the mines. But, although the oper- 
 ations have been directed by the best mining 
 skill, supported by abundant capital, the en- 
 terprise, on the whole, has not proved suc- 
 cessful, and since 1853 the business has 
 greatly declined in importance. 
 
 In North Carolina numerous quartz veins 
 have been worked during the last 30 years, 
 and operations arc still carried on with mod- 
 erate success at several mines in Guilford, 
 Davidson, Montgomery, Cabarrus, Itowan, 
 and Mecklenburg counties. Deposit mines 
 have been worked with great success, also, 
 iu Burke, Rutherford, and McDowell coun- 
 ties. At a single time, it is stated, there 
 might have been seen, from one point of 
 view in McDowell county, no less than 3,000 
 persons engaged in washing the deposits. 
 In this district sluice-washing has recently 
 been successfully introduced by Dr. Van 
 Dyke, who is also engaged in the same proc- 
 ess in Georgia. The most important group 
 of mines is at Gold Hill, on the southern 
 line of Kowan and Cabarrus counties. Mm- 
 ing operations were begun here in 1843, and 
 for 10 years the annual product averaged 
 about §100,000; the last four years of this 
 period more than one-third of all the gold 
 coined at the Charlotte mint was from Gold 
 Hill. In 1853 the property was purchased 
 by a New York company, by which it has 
 since been worked, but with greatly reduced 
 profits, althou(;h the mines have been fur- 
 nished with the most efficient machinery. 
 These are the deepest gold mines in the At- 
 lantic states, one of the shafts having now 
 reached the depth of 680 feet. The ore is pyr- 
 itous iron, containing gold in particles rarely 
 visible, and probably chcniically combined 
 with the iron and sulphur in the form of a 
 double sulphuret. It is separated with difficul- 
 ty, and very imperfectly, by the processes of 
 crushing and amalgamating ; and the immense 
 
 heaps of tailings collected below the mines, 
 amounting probably to over two million bush- 
 els, still retain quantities of gold worth from 
 fifty cents to two dollars the bushel. In Da- 
 vidson county amine was opened in 1839, 
 which produced in the three succeeding 
 years about $7,000 worth of gold, when the 
 ore was proved to be more valuable for sil- 
 ver than for gold. These metals were as- 
 sociated with a variety of metallic ores, 
 among which the sulphuret, carbonate, and 
 phosphate of lead were especially abundant. 
 I'^urnaces were constructed for reducing these, 
 and separating the silver obtained with the 
 lead. This is the only mine east of the 
 Rocky Mountains which has furnished any 
 considerable amount of silver to the mint. 
 It is now known as the Washington mine. 
 
 Although many gold mines have been 
 worked in South Carolina, the only one of 
 much note is the Dorn mine, in Abbeville 
 district. In 1850 this mine, then quite new, 
 produced gold to the value of §19,000, and 
 in 1852 the production rose to $202,216, al- 
 though the mine was provided with very im- 
 perfect machinery and worked in a very 
 rude manner. This large yield was, how- 
 ever, of short duration, the gold occurring 
 in great quantity only in streaks or pocket* 
 upon a short portion of the vein. 
 
 The Georgia gold mines, first worked in 
 the north-east part of the state in 1829, were 
 soon found to extend south-west into the 
 country beyond the Chestatee river, which 
 was then possessed by the Cherokee Indians. 
 In 1830 the borders of this territory were 
 overrun by a reckless set of adventurers, not- 
 withstanding the attempts made, tii'st by a 
 force of United States troops stationed for 
 the protection of the Indians, and afterward 
 by Georgia troops, when the state extended 
 her laws in 1830 over the Cherokee country. 
 On the removal of the Indians, their lands 
 were distributed in 40 acre lots, by lottery, 
 among the inhabitants of the state, and thus 
 titles were obtained to the gold mines. The 
 deposit mines yielded richly for a few years, 
 and the whole product of gold for the first 
 ten years of their working is supposed to 
 have amounted to $16,000,000, a large por- 
 tion of which never reached the United States 
 mints, but was distributed in barter through- 
 out the neighboring states and worked up in 
 jewelry. From 1839 to 1849 the produc- 
 tion did not probably exceed $4,000,000. A 
 number of quartz veins were opened in Hab- 
 ersham, Lumpkin, Cherokee, Carroll, Colum- 
 
10 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 bia, and other counties, and considerable 
 amounts of gold were obtained from these. 
 They were, however, generally abandoned 
 when the workings reached a depth at which 
 machinery would be required for draining 
 the mines. In Columbia county, about 20 
 miles from Augusta, the McCormack mine 
 has been worked without interruption for 
 about 20 years steadily, producing very fair 
 profits. The gold is found in small particles 
 in a lioney-combed quartz, wliich contains 
 but little pyrites and some galena. Nearly 
 all the gold was obtained within 70 feet of 
 the surface. 
 
 In Lumpkin county the gold is found in 
 immense beds of decomposed micaceous and 
 talcose slates, which, too poor to be worked 
 by the slow process of crushing the whole 
 material in mills and then washing away the 
 earthy matter, will probably well repay the 
 more tlxirough system of operations accord- 
 ing to the California hydraulic process. Af- 
 ter these beds had renuiiued neglected for 
 many years. Dr. II. M. Van Dyke, who had 
 gained experience in California, and already 
 applied it in introducing the system into 
 North California, found in Boston, Mass., 
 capitalists who agreed to furnish the money 
 required for securing the richest tracts in the 
 vicinity of Dahlonega, and conveying to 
 them the water for washing down the hills 
 on the plan, which will be more particularl}' 
 noticed in speaking of the California mines. 
 In 1858 he commenced operations, which 
 have since been actively conducted ; taking 
 the water of the Yahoola river at a point 
 about 13 miles above the spot where it will 
 be first used, and conveying it by a canal or 
 ditch over the more elevated portion of the 
 country, crossing the valleys by means of 
 sluices supported upon trestle-work, the 
 height of which gradually increases with the 
 descent of the streams, until at the crossing 
 of the Yahoola near Dahlonega tlie liigh 
 trestle now in construction is at the level of 
 24-0 feet above the bed of the river, with a 
 span between the hills of 1,400 feet. Be- 
 yond this crossing the canal is to be extended 
 two miles further, to reach the rich deposits 
 upon which the hose washing will be first 
 applied. It is expected that the arrange- 
 ments will bo completed early in 18iil, and 
 that from the numerous localities coytrolled 
 by the company, at which the water can be 
 used to advantage, the proceeds will revive 
 the reputation of the Georgia gold mines. 
 
 Another association was formed in Bostop 
 
 in 1857, called the Nacoochee Hydraulic 
 Mining Company, for the purpose of apply- 
 ing the same system to the high grounds in 
 White county, recently a part of Haber- 
 sham, in which are tlie mines of the Nacoo- 
 chee valley and its vicinity, at one period 
 highly productive, and where many deposits 
 exist at so great an elevation, that no water 
 has heretofore been brought to bear upon 
 them. By damming the Nacoochee river, 
 this company can carry water to these points ; 
 and their arrangements are already nearly 
 completed. In some experimental trials they 
 I have, by the use of a current of water that 
 would How through a six-inch pipe, obtained 
 several hundred dollars per week with the 
 labor of two miners. From one spot more 
 than 1,500 dwts. were washed out in small 
 1 nuggets, several of about 1 00 dwts. each, and 
 ■ one of 3s7 dwts. The value of these is $1 
 ' the dwt., and of the gold dust 97 cents. 
 The auriferous belt of rocks consists of al- 
 I ternating beds of micaceous, hornblende, and 
 talcose slates and gneiss, which stand nearly 
 vertically, and contain between their layers 
 bands of quartz. The gold is found in the 
 quartz and in the auriferous pyrites accom- 
 panying it, and to some extent in the slates 
 also. Detached or " free" gold is also met 
 with, derived, no doubt, from pyrites which 
 has decomposed and disappeared. From 
 the general disintegr.ation of the edges of 
 these strata, gold has been distributed in the 
 deposits around. 
 
 From Georgia, the gold-bearing rocks are 
 traced into eastern Tennessee, where tliey 
 have been worked along the range of the 
 Coweta and Smoky Mountains; and from 
 the south side of the Blue Ridge, in Georgia, 
 they have proved productive in a south-west 
 direction, through Carroll county, into Ala- 
 bama; but the formation is soon lost in the 
 last-named state. 
 
 The gold regions along both slopes of the 
 Rocky Mountains are, however, the most re- 
 markable yet discovered on this continent. 
 In CoLOR.\DO, "the whole range of moun- 
 tains seems crowded with veins of rich 
 mineral ore. They run into and through 
 the hill sides like the bars of a gridiron — 
 every hundred feet, every fiftj' feet, every 
 twenty feet." The first and largest develop- 
 ment of these mmos lies along and up the 
 Clear Creek and centres around its sources. 
 The principal mining villages of this section 
 are Central City, Black Hawk and Nevada. 
 Another centre of productive mining interests 
 
71 
 
 is ill the South Piirk. The gold in Colorado 
 is combined witli sul|iliiiv and forms a sort 
 of pyrites. Tliis renders its extraction more 
 dirtiiuilt; but processes have lately been de- 
 vised which, without increasing materially 
 the expense, will raise the prodnction of gold 
 per cord of ore to three or five-fold what it 
 has hitherto been. There are also large 
 deposits of gold in New Mexico and Utah, 
 which are not yet developed to any con- 
 siderable extent. 
 
 Idaho and Montana are also immensely 
 rich in gold mines and placers. The Boise 
 Basin, in Idaho, has yielded, and still yields 
 to the placer miner in many parts a fair re- 
 turn for his labor, and possesses, beside, 
 many valuablo gold-bearing quartz leads. 
 The South Boise has also many valuable 
 leads. The Owyhee mines, sixty miles south 
 of Boise City. They are almost entirely 
 silver-producing, though some gold is ex- 
 tracted from the silver. In Montana, the 
 placer diggings are yet paying largely, and 
 the quartz leads are richer in gold than in 
 any section yet discovered; and the two 
 localities which have been thus far princi- 
 pally worked, Alder Gulch, and the vicinity 
 of Helena, about one hundred and fifty 
 miles apart, are yielding both gold and sil- 
 ver in gi-eat profusion. 
 
 Still another region rich in gold, richer 
 perhaps than either of the others, though as 
 yet developed with difficulty, on account of 
 the hostile and treacherous Indians who 
 roam over it, is the Territory of Arizona. Its 
 gulches and canons abound in the precious 
 metal, and it cannot be long before they 
 yield in profusion their long liidden wealth. 
 The completion of the Pacific railroad will 
 soon make this wealth available. 
 
 The most important gold region of the 
 United States and of the world is that of 
 California. Its development has not only 
 largely multiplied the previous gold produc- 
 tion of the globe, but it has been the means 
 of rapidly bringing into the use of civilized 
 nations large territories of productive lands, 
 which before were an unprofitable wilderness, 
 founding new states, enlarging the commerce 
 of the world, and bringing into closer inter- 
 course nations which before were the most 
 "widely separated. At the period when the 
 wealth of the gold mines of California began 
 to be realized, the annual production of gold 
 throughiuit the world had gradually fallen to 
 about $20,000,000, and more than half of 
 this was furnished by Russia alone. In 1853, 
 
 only five years later, California produced an 
 amount estimated at §70,000,000, and the 
 total production, through the supplies, nearly 
 as large, funiislicd at the same time by 
 Australia, had increased to almost double 
 this amount. Little was known of California 
 previous to the discovery of gold at Sutter's 
 mill, on the American fork of the Sacramento, 
 in February, 1848; yet its being a country 
 containing gold was made known by Ilak- 
 luyt in his account of Drake's ex[)cd;tion of 
 1577-9, and by Cavello, a Jesuit priest of 
 San Jose, Bay of Francisco, who published a 
 work on the country in Spain in 1(590. Re- 
 ports from later travellers confirmed these 
 statements at various times, and in Hunfs 
 Merchants^ Mar/azine for April, 1 847, a report 
 is presented by Mr. Sloat, which speaks in 
 very decided terras of the richness of the 
 gold placers of the country, as noticed by 
 him during his observations of the two pre- 
 ceding years. The Rev. C. S. Lyman, in a 
 letter written to the editor of the American 
 Journal of Science from San Jose, in March 
 1848, notices the discovery of the preceding 
 month as very promising. In August of that 
 year it was reported that four thousand men 
 were engaged in working the deposits on the 
 American fork, and were taking out from 
 830,000 to $40,000 a day. This com- 
 prised a large portion of the population of 
 California. San Francisco was almost de- 
 serted, and people were pouring in from 
 distant regions. The next year the emigra- 
 tion commenced in the LTnited States, both 
 by sea around Cape Horn, and across the 
 plains and Rocky Mountains in large parties. 
 By the close of the year 1849 the number 
 of persons engaged in mining was estimated 
 at from 40,000 to 50,000 Americans, and 
 about 5,000 foreigners: the total product of 
 gold at about $40,000,000. The mining 
 district was traced up the valley of the 
 Sacramento toward the north, and the con- 
 tinuation of the .same formations up that of 
 the San Joaquin in the opposite direction was 
 also beginning to be understood. Along the 
 vallej's of the streams, which flowed into 
 these rivers from the Sierra Nevada range to 
 the east, gold was almost everywhere found, 
 and upon the hills and elevated plains it was 
 met with beneath the sands and clays which 
 covered tlie surface to the depth of fifteen to 
 thirty feet or more ; all the materials, earthy 
 and metallic, appearing either to have been 
 derived from the superficial disintegration of 
 the slaty formations, or to have been depos- 
 
V2 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 ited by ancient rivers, whlcli have since been 
 diverted in other directions. Deposits of 
 this character were called dry diggings, and, 
 except in the wet season, were worked to 
 great disadvantage for the want of water to 
 separate the earthy matters from the gold. 
 In the bottoms of the streams the deposits 
 contained much coarse gold, derived from 
 the wearing down of the slate formations 
 through which they had made their way in 
 their rapid descent from the Sierra Nevada 
 mountains. By the excavation of the vast 
 gulches or ravines of these streams, some of 
 which presented precipitous walls of about 
 3,000 feet in height, au immense amount of 
 gold must have been rem<)\cd from its orig- 
 inal beds, which, as tlie lighter earthy mat- 
 ters were swept down the rivers, remained 
 behind, forming the riches of the auriferous 
 deposits. The country of this peculiar 
 character ■w^s found to extend along the 
 western slopes of the Sierra Nevada for 400 
 or 500 miles, and the gold-bearing slates to 
 spread over a width of from forty to sixty 
 miles. 
 
 Whether or no the natural processes by 
 which the gold had been collected from its 
 original beds suggested to the California 
 miner an improved method of washing the 
 auriferous formations upon a gigantic scale, 
 it was soon found that the richness of the de- 
 posits would justify, especially in the dry 
 diggings, large outlays in conveying water 
 from great distances by canals or ditches, 
 and applying this, either under the pressure 
 of a great head, to tear up the material from 
 its bed and wash away the earthy portions, 
 or to wash the auriferous gravels as these 
 were carried to the water sluices and thrown 
 into them for this purpose. On this plan 
 hydraulic operations were soon laid out of 
 extraordinary extent. Currents were di- 
 verted well up the slope of the Sierra Nevada 
 mountains, and conveyed in canals along the 
 sides of the hills, and in sluices, supported 
 upon trestle-work, from one hill to another, 
 sometimes at a height of more than 200 feet 
 above the bottoms. On the hills where the 
 water was required for " hose washing," it 
 was taken fmm the canal or sluice in a large 
 and strong canvas liose, to the lower end of 
 which a nozzle, like that of a fire engine, was 
 attached. The least head for efficient ser- 
 vice was about 60 feet, and a head of 100 
 feet was used where it could be liad and the 
 hose would bear it. Large hose and nozzles 
 proved much more efficient than several 
 
 smaller ones of equal or even greater capac- 
 ity. As estimated by Mr. Wm. P. Blake, 
 with a pipe of an inch and a half or two inches 
 aperture, and a pressure of 90 feet head, 
 a boy can excavate and wash as much aurif- 
 erous earth as 1 or 1 5 men by the ordinary 
 methods. In suitable places, where the waste 
 water can flow rapidly away though the 
 sluices made for its channel and for catching 
 tlie gold, the jet of water is directed against 
 the side of a hill, which it rapidly excavates, 
 sweeping oft' the earthy portions, undermin- 
 ing the trees, and rolling down the loose 
 stones, and, where the ground is fiivorable 
 for the opei'ation, cutting every thing awa}', 
 it may be to a depth of 100 feet from the 
 top to the bottom of the excavation, leaving 
 behind barren acres of loose stone in un- 
 sightly piles — a perfect picture of desola- 
 tion. At the close of the year 1858 it was 
 estimated that the artificial water-courses al- 
 ready constructed for mining purposes in 
 California amounted to 5,726 miles in length, 
 and their cost to $13, 575, 400 ; and besides 
 these there were branches not enumerated, 
 and others in construction, to the extent of 
 about 1,000 miles more. Among the prin- 
 cipal of these canals are the Columbia and 
 Stanislaus, in Tuolumne count}', which is 
 80 miles long, and cost $600,(i00 ; the Butte, 
 in Amador county, 50 miles long, cost 
 $400,000 ; that of the Union Water Com- 
 pany, in Calaveras county, 78 miles long, 
 cost $320,000; and that of tlie Tuolumne 
 Hydraulic Companj', 60 miles long, cost 
 $300,000. Notwithstanding the cost of 
 tliese enterprises, they have proved in gen- 
 eral highly profitable, paying, after deducting 
 the expenses of keeping them up, from one to 
 more than five per cent, a montli. The water 
 is sold to the miners by the canal companies 
 at so much per inch of the discharge — this 
 being from a horizontal aperture, one inch 
 high, at the bottom of a box in which the 
 water is kept six inches deep. The length 
 of the aperture is i^gulated by a slide. The 
 price has fallen ffom $3.00 an inch per day 
 in 1851, to 50 cents in 1854, and is now 
 still less. 
 
 Sluice-washing, which is a necessary part, 
 of the hydraulic or hose process, is also 
 carried on independently of it, and by a 
 method which was first adopted in Califor- 
 nia. Channels are made sometimes upon 
 the surface of the slaty beds in place, the 
 ragged edges of which are very favorable for 
 catching the gold, or sometimes of boards, 
 
GOLD. 
 
 73 
 
 in the form of an open trough, a foot or 15 
 inches in width, and 8 or ten inches deep, 
 which are extended to several hundred feet 
 in length. These are set at a suitable slope, 
 usually about one in twelve, and " riffle " bars 
 are laid across to obstruct the flow of the 
 heavy metallic particles which sweep along 
 the bottom, while the muddy portions and 
 stones are carried over with a flow of the 
 water, and discharged at the lower end. 
 Fresh gravel is continually shoveled into 
 the sluices, and once a day, or oftener, these 
 are cleaned up to collect the gold from the 
 riffles and pools, which are sometimes used 
 at the head of one joitit of the sluice to re- 
 ceive the discharge from the next one above. 
 Where the descent is rapid enough to keep 
 the pool " in a boil," a considerable portion 
 of the gold may be caught in it, especially if 
 mercury be introduced. 
 
 In 1851, attention began to be turned to 
 the quartz veins, or "ledges," as they wore 
 called, and numerous companies were soon 
 established in the United States and in Eng- 
 land for carrying on regular mining opera- 
 tions upon these. Within five years after, 
 many deep shafts had been sunk upon veins 
 in different parts of the country, and mills 
 wire in operation, furnished with the most 
 efficient machinery for crushing and wash- 
 ing the ore. The imcerlain supply of wa- 
 ter, and the great expense attending the pro- 
 curing it by canals from a distance, operated 
 for a time strongly against the success of 
 these works. Upon the Mariposa estate, 
 once the property of Gen. J. C. Fremont, 
 one of the earliest and most extensive ex- 
 periments in quartz mining was made. The 
 quartz veins on that estate were not so rich 
 as some which have since been discovered 
 elsewhere, yielding by the old ISIexican pro- 
 cess with the arasteus only eight or nine 
 dollars to the ton. By a new and improved 
 method, known as the " Eureka Process," 
 the jiekl was increased to forty or fifty dol- 
 lars jier ton, and from the Princeton mine 
 alone over three million diillars were taken 
 out before 18G7. Had this noble property 
 been wisely or well managed, it would have 
 made the General the wealthiest of Ameri- 
 can millionaires ; but, unfortunatel}', prose- 
 cuting his great schemes too rapidly, he fell 
 into the hands of men who stripped him of 
 his grand estate and squandered its profits. 
 
 But whatever may be the ultimate fiite of 
 this great estate, the success of quartz mining 
 
 in California is assured; there were in the 
 State, in the spring of 1868, 472 quartz 
 mills carrying a total of 5,120 stamps, and 
 nearly all were doing a profitable business. 
 There is, of course, a great difference in the 
 yield of different veins ; some after a period 
 of great productiveness, coming upon a con- 
 siderable stretch of barren quartz, where the 
 yield is insufficient to pay expenses, and then 
 passing on to a gangue richer and more pro- 
 ductive than the portion of the vein first 
 opened. Others will have the precious 
 metal in " chutes " or " chimneys " scattered 
 here and there along the course of the vein, 
 which are enormously productive while the 
 intervening portions are entirely barren. 
 Others still will yield a steady and very uni- 
 form percentage, not large but fair. In 
 general it may be said that quartz mining 
 yields a more certain though more moderate 
 success than any other kind of gold mining. 
 The total production of the mines of Cali- 
 fornia, from the commencement of extensive 
 mining there to the year 18711, was as fol- 
 lows, according to the best authorities : 
 
 1848 $10,000,000 
 
 1849 40,000.000 
 
 1850, 50,000,000 
 
 1851, 55,000,000 
 
 1852 60,000,000 
 
 18.53 65,000,000 
 
 1854, 60,000,000 
 
 1855, 55,000,000 
 
 1856, 55,000,0(10 
 
 1857 55, ,100,000 
 
 1858 50,000,000 
 
 1859, 50.000,000 
 
 1860 £45.000,000 
 
 1861 40,000,000 
 
 1862 34,700,("00 
 
 1863, 30,000,000 
 
 1864 26,600,000 
 
 1865 28,500,000 
 
 1866, 26,500,000 
 
 1867, 25,000,000 
 
 1868 28,000,000 
 
 18C9, 27,800,000 
 
 1870, 28,500,000 
 
 ¥945,600,000 
 
 The deposits of gold at the mint, and its 
 branches, for the year ending June 30, 1870, 
 were $29,48o,'J(53.45. Of silver, for the 
 same time, $3,504,942.51. Total deposits 
 $32,990,210.96. 
 
 The coinage for the same period was — 
 gold coin, number of pieces, 1,156,087 ; val- 
 ue, $22,257,312.50; unparted and fine gold 
 bars, $87,846,052.25 ; silver coin, pieces, 
 4.649,398 ; value, $1,767,253.50 ; silver 
 bars, $9112,800.66 ; nickel, copper, and bronze 
 pieces, 18,154,000; value. $611,445; total 
 number of pieces struck, 23,961,'292 ; total 
 value of coinage, $33,384,863.91. 
 
 New localities are tested by trying the 
 earth in different places, by washing it in an 
 iron pan or upon a shovel, an experienced 
 hand readily throwing the heavy particles 
 by themselves, while the lighter are allowed 
 to flow away. This method is one of the 
 
74 
 
 MINIKQ INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES 
 
 means in use for collecting gold upon a 
 small scale, and the Mexicans of the gold 
 regions, by long practice, arc particularly 
 expert in it. If a vein is to be tested, the 
 quartz is finely crushed, and the powder is 
 then washed in the same manner. Gold 
 may be thus brought to view when none 
 was visible in the stones, however closely ex- 
 amined, liy placing a little mercury or 
 quicksilver in the pan, the gold will be more 
 perfectly secured, as, by coming in contact 
 with each other, these metals instantly unite 
 to f )riu a heavy amalgam, and the mercury 
 thus holds the linest particles of gold so that 
 they cannot escape. The mixture, separated 
 from the sand, is squeezed in a piece of thick 
 linen or deerskin, through which the excess 
 of mercury escapes, leaving the amalgam. 
 This may then be heated on a shovel, when 
 the mercury goes oft" in vapor, and the gold 
 is left in its original-shaped particles, coher- 
 ing together in a cake. If the quantity of 
 amalgam is considerable, it is distilled in a 
 retort, and the mercury is condensed to be 
 used again. This amalgamation fails entirely 
 if the slightest quantity of any greasy sub- 
 stance is present, as a film of the gi'case coats 
 every portion of the mercury, and eft'ectually 
 prevents its contact with the gold. These 
 processes contain the principles of nearly all 
 the methods in use for separating gold. A 
 great variety of machines liave been based 
 upon them, the sinqslost of which have proved 
 the most valuable. The Burke rocker has 
 always been a favorite machine in the south- 
 ern states, and has been largely used in Cali- 
 fornia by small companies of miners, and in 
 localities where operations were not carried 
 
 
 Nn\ .'ij'^V* >^-». 
 
 BUBKE ROCKIB. 
 
 on upon a very extensive scale. It is a cradle- 
 shaped trough, about six feet long, set on 
 two rockers, the upper end a few inches 
 higher than the lower, and placed so as to 
 receive at its head a current of water from 
 the end of a leading trough above. This 
 falls upon a perforated iron plate, set as a 
 shelf in the machine, and u])on this the 
 auriferous gravel is thrown. The finer par- 
 ticles fall through as the rocker is kept in 
 motion by hand, and the coarse gravel rolls 
 down to the lower end, and falls off upon 
 the ground. Across the bottom of the 
 rocker are placed, at intervals of G or 8 
 inches, low bars or partitions which catch 
 the heavy sands, and prevent their being 
 washed out of the lower end with the water 
 and mud. This lower portion is sometimes 
 arranged as a drijwer, which can be secured 
 by a lock, so that the gold which falls into 
 it is safe against robbery. The drawer is 
 called the " riftle box." Some rockers are 
 mere open troughs without a shelf. The 
 " tom" is often preferred to the rocker, which 
 it resembles, except in its being a trough 
 without rockers, on the plan of the sluices 
 alreadv described. I'oth it and the rocker 
 are of convenient size for moving about from 
 one place to another, as the working of the 
 deposit advances. 
 
 Vein mining requires more efficient ma- 
 chinery, and stamping mills are constructed 
 as near as may be to the mines, for reducing 
 the stony materials to powder, and the sands 
 from the stamps are passed through a variety 
 of machines designed to catch the gold. 
 Stamps arc solid blocks of the heaviest cast 
 iron attached to the end of a wooden or iron 
 rod called the leg, to which the lifting cam 
 is apiilied for raising them. They common- 
 ly weigh about 300 llis. each, though in 
 California they are made of twice and even 
 three times this weight. Several of tliera 
 are set ton-ether in a frame side by side, and 
 are lifted in succession by the cams upon a 
 horizontal shaft, which revolves in front of 
 them. The bed in which they stand, and 
 into which the ore to be crushed is thrown, 
 is sometimes a massive anvil, hollow in the 
 top, firmly imbedded in a heavy stick of 
 timber, or is formed of stones, beaten by the 
 stanqis themselves into a soli<t bed. Water 
 is usually supplied in small currents to the 
 stamps, and sometimes mercury also is pour- 
 ed into the bed. Tiie only exit for the 
 crushed materials is through .small holes 
 punched in a sheet of copper, of which the 
 
VOSEMITt VALLEY. 
 
FATIII l; Ml lllJi roKKM. 
 
PROSFECTER IX CALIFUKMA liul.ll Ml.NES. 
 
 CHINESE IN CALIFORNIA (.i il.li MINES, 
 
75 
 
 side of the boxing around the stamps is form- 
 ed, opposite to that at which the ore is fed. 
 Through these holes the mud and water 
 are projected with every blow into a capa- 
 cious box, the floor of which inclines gently 
 back toward the stamp, and contains along 
 this edge a quantity of mercury, in which a 
 considerable portion of the gold is caught. 
 From the box a spout leads the current into 
 the other machines, often through an inclined 
 trough, in the bottom of which baize or 
 blanket stuff is laid for the purpose of en- 
 tangling in its fibres the particles of gold 
 that are swept along. These are frequently 
 taken up and cleaned. Aftich of the gold, 
 however, alwavs escapes them, and the cur- 
 rent is variously treated before it is finally 
 allowed to flow away. The sands require to 
 be more finely pulverized, and the current 
 first flows into mills of some sort, as the 
 Chilian mill, arrastre, etc. The former con- 
 sists of a pair of heavy wheels of granite, from 
 four to six feet in diameter when new, set in 
 a horizontal frame, one on each side of an 
 upright shaft, and carried around with the 
 shaft as it revolves upon its axis. The stones 
 
 They revolve in a water-tight box or tub 
 upon a granite floor. Sometimes they are 
 used in the place of stamps for breaking up 
 the coarse ore ; and worked at the rate of 
 eight to twelve revolutions a minute, they 
 should crush to fine sand from one to two 
 tons of quartz in twelve hours. The water, 
 which flows in one side the tub, passes out 
 over the opposite edge with the light slime 
 and fine mud, while much of the gold re- 
 mains in the bottom, .caught by the mercury 
 placed there to secure it. The arrastre is 
 something like the Chilian mill, only instead 
 of revolving stones, heavy flat ones are drag- 
 ged round with the shaft by chains, secured 
 to the horizontal arms. These machines in 
 Mexico are worked by horses or mules, but 
 in this country by water or steam power. 
 The slowness of their operation is not regard- 
 ed as an objectionable feature, but on the 
 contrary is favorable for effectually securing 
 the gold. Among the simplest and best 
 cimtrivances employed below the Chilian 
 mill are the " shaking tables." These are 
 platforms seven or eight feet long, of plank 
 in a single piece, as wide as can be procured. 
 
 CRUSHING HILL, OR ARRASTRE, 
 
 being as close as possible to the shaft, have 
 a twisting motion which acts powerfully to 
 grind the particles crushed by their weight. 
 5* 
 
 The planks, of two inches thickness, aro 
 worked down from a line across the middle 
 to a thin edge at one end, and from the other 
 
76 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 end they are made to diminish to half an 
 inch thicliness at the line across the middle. 
 Each one is furnislied with sides, and a strip 
 acros-i the thin end of si.v inches in height, 
 the jiiining made perfectly tight, and is tlien 
 swung between four posts in a horizontal 
 position by four rods or chains, which sliould 
 be at least eight f'Ct long. Mercury is pour- 
 ed into the two divisions, until they are 
 more than half filled. The sands are made 
 to flow in upon the thin end, and are receiv- 
 ed upon the surface of the mercury ; and the 
 table is made to swing forward and back by 
 ihe revolution of a crank. By the motion 
 the sands are mixed in with the mercury, 
 and swept along in successive waves, and 
 falling over the middle ridge are treated in 
 the same manner in the succeeding division. 
 The mercury is retained by its weight in the 
 depressed portions of the table, and the wa- 
 ter and sands are discharged over the open 
 end. Of the numerous machines designed 
 for effecting the amalgamation of the gold 
 patented within the last few years ; few in- 
 volve any new principles, but are merely 
 modiKed forms of the old contrivances. Prof. 
 A. K. Eaton, of New York, found that amal- 
 gamated metallic surl'aces could be made to 
 collect most completely the very fine parti- 
 cles of gold, which by all other processes it 
 has been found impossible to secure. The 
 use of copper, brass, or zinc proved trouble- 
 f-ome and impracticable fmm the rapidity 
 with which they were dissolved in the mer- 
 cury, adulterating the amalgam. An amal- 
 gamated iron surface proved to be free from 
 this objection, and the following description 
 of apparatus was finally decided on as the 
 most elficient: A circular plate of wrought 
 iron is amalgamated over what is intended 
 to be its inferior surface, and an open tube 
 is fixed in its center, rising three or four feet 
 liigli, and furnished at the top with a bowd 
 or funnel. This tul)e and disk are supported 
 upon a surface of mercury contained in a 
 shallow tub of larger diameter than the disk, 
 a frame-woi-k being attached to the tub for 
 this purf)ose. A pulley is fixed upon the 
 hollow shaft, so that a belt may be attached 
 for causing the disk to rotate upon the mer- 
 cury. The sands are fed with water into 
 the funnel at the top of the tube, and the 
 pre>sure caused by the height of the column 
 carries them down upon tie mercurial sur- 
 face, and, by reason of this p-issure and the 
 centrifugal action of tiie re\olving disk, they 
 gradually work outward between this sur- 
 
 face and the amalgamated surface above, be- 
 ing pressed an J rubbed between them till 
 they escape round the circumference of the 
 disk, and flow over the edge of the tub. 
 Hot water, as in all other modes of amalga- 
 mating, is preferable to cold. l?y this pro- 
 cess all free gold, however fine the particles, 
 must come in contact with the amalgamated 
 surface, and be taken up by the mercury. 
 It perfectly separates the gold that in other 
 machrnes floats off in the fine slime. In gold 
 ores, especially those of sulphurous character, 
 much of the gold is so fine that it remains 
 suspended a long time in water, and is en- 
 tirely lost. Tilt! important feature of this 
 invention is the use of an inferior amalga- 
 mated surface, against which these floating 
 particles are pressed. The pressure is se- 
 cured by any desired depth of the mercury, 
 but in practice less than an inch above the 
 lower edge of the plate is found to be suffi- 
 cient. The efficiency of the machine was 
 fully tested in November, 1860, at the Gold 
 Hill mine, in North Carolina, where good 
 results were obtained with it. In the same 
 month it was tried at the U. S. assay office, 
 N. y ., upon the tailings of the sweeps from 
 which all the gold had been extracted that 
 could be removed by the amalgamating ma- 
 chines in use, and from these it readily sepa- 
 rated the remaining portion. 
 
 As remarked in the mention made of the 
 Gold Hill mines, when gold is associated 
 with iron and copper pyrites it is held verj' 
 tenaciously, as if combined itself with the 
 suli)hur, like the other metals. However 
 finely such ores are pulverized, every micro- 
 scopic particle of pyrites appears to retain a 
 portion of gold, .and prevent its uniting with 
 the mercury. This portion of the gold, con- 
 sequently, escapes in the tailings ; and if 
 these are kept in refuse heaps, exposed to 
 the weather, the pyrites slowly decompose, 
 and more gold is continually set free. Thus 
 it is the heaps may be washed over with 
 profit tor many successive years. Roasting 
 of the ores is recommended by high authori- 
 ties for freeing the gold at once, the effect 
 of it being to break up the sulphurets, caus- 
 ing the sulphur to escape in vapor, and tlie 
 iron to crumble down in the state of an oxide, 
 or an ochreous powder, from which the gold 
 is readily separated. This is objected to by 
 others, who assert that it involves a great 
 loss of gold, which is volatilized or carried 
 off mechanically in the sul])hur fumes. Two 
 other methods adopted, since 1857, for the 
 

 'immmwr/zfyy /«)| 
 
GOLD. 
 
 77 
 
 leiluction of those ores containing large pro- 
 portions of the sulphurets of iron and cop- 
 per, deserve notice — viz. .the " Sodium Amal- 
 gamating Process," and the " Plattner 
 Chlorination Process." 
 
 The use of the Sodium in mechanical com- 
 bination -with mercury to oxidize and thus 
 remove more readih' the impurities, sulphur, 
 arsenic, and antimon}', which interfere with 
 the reduction or extraction of gold from the 
 quartz, was suggested about 1861, and has 
 been made the subject of two jjatents, one 
 by Dr. Chas. Wurtz in New York, in 18G4, 
 the other by Mr. Crookes, of London, in 
 186.T. It has proved very successful in Col- 
 orado, Nova Scotia, and California, in those 
 mines where the gold was so difficult of ex- 
 traction, on account of the presence of a 
 large percentage of refractory p3'rites. The 
 yield of gold from these ores has been in- 
 creased from 20 to 30 per cent. The sodium 
 is however as yet so costly, that it is only 
 the richer ores in which it pays, commercial- 
 ly, to use it. Amalgams are now put up 
 according to the formula; of the patentees, 
 containing the requisite quantity of sodium 
 in combination with other metallic com- 
 pounds. These are to be used, according 
 to the amount of concentration, with from 
 20 to 150 times their weight of mercury. 
 The Amalgam varies from SI. 2.5 to !?1.75 
 per pound. Recently it has been announc- 
 ed that cyanide of potassium was to be 
 preferred for this purpose to sodium — 
 while it is much cheaper. The Plattner 
 chlorination j)rocess requires as a prelimin- 
 ary a double roasting of the ores, the fii-st 
 time at a low heat to oxidize the ore and 
 burn out, as far as possible, the sulphurets 
 and other impurities, and the second time, at 
 a higher heat, to decompose the metallic salts 
 f )rmed at the first roasting. If sulphates 
 of lime and magnesia are jiresent they are 
 removed by the addition of some common 
 salt to the roasting mass. When the roast- 
 ing is completed the ore is discharged from 
 the furna 'e and allowed to cool, and then 
 being damped is sifted into a large vat, lined 
 with bitumen, and having a false bottom on 
 which rests a filter composed of broken 
 quartz and sand. The vat is provided with 
 a close-fitting cover which can be luted on 
 and made air-tight. The chlorine is then 
 generated in a leaden vessel by means of 
 sulphuric acid, and conducted into the bot- 
 tom of the vat through a leaden jiipe. As 
 it passes up through the ore more ore is 
 
 sifted in and the vat is gradually thoroughly 
 charged with the gas, when the cover, having 
 been luted on and all escape prevented, and 
 the whole allowed to stand for twelve or 
 eighteen hours the gold is completely chlori- 
 dized. Water is then introduced which ab- 
 sorbs the chlorine and dissolves the chloride 
 of gold, and a stream of w-ater is permitted to 
 run in at the top of the vat till the lixiviation 
 is coinplete. The residue in the vat is then 
 thrown away, and the solution of chloride of 
 gold goes to the precipitating vat when a 
 solution of proto-sulphate of iron is added 
 to it, and it is permitted to stand for eight 
 or ten hours. The water is then carefully 
 drawn oft', the precipitated gold collected 
 upon a paper filter, dried, melted and run 
 into bars. This gold will be, if the process 
 is carefully conducted, 999 fine, or almost 
 absolutely pure gold. 
 
 In the " branch mining " of the southern 
 states, deposits worked by the rocker are 
 regarded as profitable which pay a penny- 
 weight or nearly one dollar per day to the 
 hand employed. The great Iseds of decom- 
 posed slates of Georgia can be worked to 
 profit when they yield from four to five cents 
 worth of gold to the bushel of stuff, or about 
 100 lbs. weight; but the mill for crushing 
 and washing it must then be close at hand. 
 The proportion of the gold, in this case, is 
 less than 2 parts in 1,000,000. The hard 
 quartz ores must contain nearly or quite 20 
 cents worth of gold in the bushel, especially 
 if they are pyritiferous. 
 
 Although the gold is obtained in a metal- 
 lic state, it difters very much in value in dif- 
 ferent localities. Deposit gold from the 
 vicinity of Dahlonega, in Georgia, is worth 
 93 cents the pennyweight ; that of Hart 
 county, in the same state, 98 cents ; of Car- 
 roll county, Georgia, and Chesterfield dis- 
 trict. South Carolina, $1.02 ; of Union coun- 
 ty, Georgia, or the Tennessee line, 72 cents ; 
 Charlotte, North Carolina $1.00; and that 
 of Burke county, North Carolina, only 50 
 cents. The average fineness of California 
 gold is found to be from 875 to 885 parts in 
 1,000, which is very near that of our gold 
 coin, viz, 900 in 1,000. The native gold 
 from Australia has from 960 to 966 parts La 
 1,000 pure gold, and some from the Chau- 
 diere, in Canada, 877.3 pure gold, and 122.3 
 silver ; another specimen 892.4, silver 107.6. 
 The specific gravity of the metal has been 
 increased by casting from 14.6 in the native 
 state to 17.48. 
 
78 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES, 
 
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80 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 The most important use of gold is as a 
 medium of exchange. For this purpose it 
 is converted into coin at the mints, and into 
 bars or bullion at the government assay of- 
 fice. In this form a large porticjn of the re- 
 ceipts from California is immediately ex- 
 ported from New York to make up the bal- 
 ance of foreign trade. Each bar is stamped 
 with marks, representing its fineness and 
 weight, and may continue to be thus used, 
 or when received at foreign mints, is convert- 
 ed into coin. A large amount of gold is 
 consumed in jewelry, trinkets, watches, and 
 plate, and still more in the form of gold- 
 leaf. This last being worn out in the using, 
 or being distributed in too small quantities 
 together to pay for recovering it, is altogether 
 lost to the community, after the articles have 
 served the purpose intended. This loss in 
 the time of James I. was considered so 
 serious, that a special act was passed, re- 
 stricting the use of gold and silver-leaf, ex- 
 cept for specified objects, which, singular!}' 
 enough, were chiefly for military accoutre- 
 ments. Gold employed in the recently in- 
 vented process of electrotyping, in which 
 large quantities are consumed, is similarly 
 lost in the using. 
 
 Besides the use of gold-leaf in gilding, it is 
 employed quite largely by dentists as the 
 best material for filHng teeth. They also 
 tise much gold plate and wire for securing 
 the artificial sets in the mouth. In book- 
 binding, gold is consumed to considerable 
 extent for lettering and ornamenting the 
 backs of the books. The manufacture of 
 gold-leaf is carried on in various places, both 
 in the cities and country. It is a simple 
 process, known in ancient times, but only of 
 late years carried to a high degree of per- 
 fection. The ingots, moulded for the pur- 
 pose, and annealed in hot ashes, are rolled 
 between rollers of polished steel, until the 
 sheet is reduced from its original thickness 
 of half an inch to a little more than ^i^ of 
 an inch, an ounce weight making a strip ten 
 feet long and H inches wide. This is an- 
 nealed and cut into pieces an inch square, 
 each weighing about six grains. A pile is 
 then made of 1 50 of these pieces, alteniiiting 
 with leaves of fine calf-skin vellum, each one 
 of which is four inches square, and a number 
 of extra leaves of the vellum are .added at 
 the top and bottom of the pile. The heap, 
 called a tool or kutch, is slipped into a 
 parchment case open at the two ends, and 
 this into a similar one, so that each side of 
 
 the pack is protected by one of the case. It 
 is placed upon a block of marble, and then 
 beaten with a hammer weighing sixteen 
 pounds, and furnished with a convex face, 
 the effect of which is to cause the gold to 
 spread more rapidly. The workman wields 
 this with great dexterity, shifting it from one 
 hand to the other, without interfering with 
 the regularity of the blow. The pack is oc- 
 casionally turned over, and is bent and rolled 
 in the hands to cause the gold to extend 
 freely between the leaves, as it is expanded. 
 The gold-leaves are also interchanged to ex- 
 pose them all equally to the beating. When 
 they have attained the full size of the vellum, 
 which is done in aliout twenty minutes, they 
 are taken apart, and cut each one into four 
 pieces, making 600 of the original 150. 
 These are packed in gold-beater's skin, and 
 the pack is beaten as before, but with a 
 lighter hammer, until they are extended 
 again to sixteen square inches. This oc- 
 cupies about two hours. The gold-leaves 
 are then taken out, and spread singly upon 
 a leather cushion, where they are cut into 
 four squares by two sharp edges of cane, ar- 
 ranged in the form of a cross. To any 
 other kind of a knife the gold would adhere. 
 These leaves are again packed, 800 together, 
 in the finest kind of gold-beater's skin, and 
 expanded till each leaf is from 3 to 3i 
 inches square. The aggregate surface is 
 about 192 times larger than that of the orig- 
 inal sheet, and the thickness is reduced to 
 .about the 75 ^V o o^ '^^ ^^ inch. The beating 
 is sometimes carried further than this, es- 
 pecially by the French, so that an ounce of 
 gold is extended over 160 square feet, and 
 its thickness is reduced to 5 34V n "^ <"i inch, 
 or even to ^jjViTo- When the pack is open- 
 ed, the leaves are carefully lifted by a pair 
 of wooden pliers, spread upon a leather 
 cushion by the aid of the breath, and cut 
 into four squ.ares of about 3i inches each, 
 which are immediately transferred one by 
 one between the leaves of a little book of 
 smooth paper, which are prevented from ad- 
 hering to the gold-leaves by an application 
 of red ochro or red ch.alk. Twenty-five 
 leaves are put into each book, and when fill- 
 ed, it is pressed hard, and all projecting edges 
 of the gold are wiped away with a bit of 
 linen. The books are then put up in pack- 
 iiges of a dozen together for sale. 
 
 An imitation gold-leaf, called Dutch gold- 
 leaf, is used to some extent. It is prepared 
 from sheets of brass, which are gilded, and 
 
LEAD. 
 
 81 
 
 beaten down in the manner already described. 
 When new it appears like genuine gold- 
 leaf, but soon becomes tarnished in use. 
 Party gold-leaf is formed of leaves of gold 
 and of silver, laid together and made to unite 
 by beating and hammering. It is then beaten 
 down like gold-leaf. 
 
 The gold-beater's skin used in this manu- 
 facture is a peculiar preparation made from 
 the .caecum of the ox. The membrane is 
 doubled together, the two mucous surfaces 
 face to face, in which state they unite firmly. 
 It is then treated with preparations of alum, 
 isinglass, whites of eggs, etc., sometimes 
 with creosote, and after being beaten be- 
 tween folds of paper to expel the grease, is 
 pressed and dried. In this way leaves are 
 obtained 5i inches square, of which moulds 
 are made up, containing each 850 leaves. 
 After being used for a considerable time, the 
 leaves become dry and stiff, so that the gold 
 cannot spread freely between them. To 
 remed}' this, they are moistened with wine 
 or with vinegar and water, laid between 
 parchment, and thoroughly beaten. They 
 are then dusted over with calcined selenitc 
 or gypsum, reduced to a line powder. The 
 vellum, which is used before the gold-beater's 
 skin, is selected from the finest varieties, 
 and this, too, after being well washed and 
 dried under a press, is brushed over with 
 pulverized gypsum. 
 
 In the great exhibition at London in 1851, 
 machines were exhibited from the United 
 States, and also from Paris, which were de- 
 signed for gold-be.ating, and it was supposed 
 they would take the place of the hand proc- 
 ess. They have been put into operation at 
 Hartford, in Connecticut, but after being 
 tried, they have been laid aside for the old 
 method. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 LEAD. 
 
 Lead is met with in a great number of 
 combinations, and has also been found in 
 small quantity, at a few localities in Europe, 
 in a native state. The common ore, from 
 which nearly all the lead of commerce is ob- 
 tained, is the sulphuret, called galena, a com- 
 bination of 86.55 per cent, of lead and 13.45 
 of sulphur. It is a steel gray mineral of bril- 
 liant metallic lustre when freshly broken, and 
 is often obtained in large cubical crystals : the 
 
 fragments of these are all in cubical forms. 
 The ore is also sometimes in masses of gran- 
 ular structure. Very frequently galena con- 
 tains silver in the form of sulphuret of that 
 metal, and gold, too, has often been detected 
 in it. The quantity of silver is estimated by 
 the number of ounces to the ton, and this 
 may amount to lOU or 200, or even more; 
 but when lead contains three ounces of silver 
 to the ton this may be profitably separated. 
 Ores of this ch.araoter are known as argentif- 
 erous galena ; if the silver is more valuable 
 than the lead they are more properly called 
 silver ores. In Mexico and Germany such 
 are worked, but not in the United States. 
 Galena is easily melted, and in contact with 
 charcoal the sulphur is expelled and the lead 
 obtained. The ore is found in veins in rocks 
 of difierent geological formations, as in the 
 metamorphic rocks of New England, the 
 lower Silurian rocks of Iowa, Wisconsin, 
 and Missouri, in limestones and sandstones 
 of later age in New York and the middle 
 states, belonging to higher groups of the Ap- 
 palachian system of rocks, and in the new red 
 sandstone of Pennsylvania at its contact with 
 the gneiss. 
 
 Carbonate of lead is another ore often as- 
 soci.ated with galena, though usually in small 
 quantit}'. It is of light color, whitish or 
 grayish, commonly crystallized, .and in an im- 
 pure form is sometimes obtained in an earthy 
 powder. At St. Lawrence county, New 
 York, barge quantities of it have been col- 
 lected for smelting, and were called lead 
 ashes. The ore may escape notice from its 
 unmetallic appearance, and at the Missouri 
 mines large quantities were formerly thrown 
 aside as worthless. It cont.ains 77.5 per 
 cent, of Ic.id combined with 6 per cent, of 
 oxygen, and this compound with 10.5 per 
 cent, of carbonic acid. Beautiful crystals of 
 the ore, some transparent, have been ob- 
 tained at the mines on the Schuylkill, near 
 Phoenixville, Pennsylvania ; the Washington 
 mine, Davidson county, North Carolina ; and 
 Mine La Motte, Missouri. 
 
 Another ore, the phosphate or pyromor- 
 phite, has been known only as a rare min- 
 eral until it was produced at the Phcenixville 
 mines so abundantly as to constitute much 
 the larger portion of the ores smelted. It is 
 obtained in masses of small crystals of a green 
 color, and sometimes of other shades, as 
 yellow, orange, brown, etc., derived from the 
 minute portions of chrome in combination. 
 With these a variety of other compounds of 
 
8S 
 
 MIKiyO IXDCSTRT OF THK rSITKD STATES. 
 
 lead are mixed, togrether with phosphate of 
 lime and fluoride of caleium. so that the pcr- 
 centaije of the metal is variable. The com- 
 pounds of lead met with at these mines are 
 the sulphurot, sulphate, carbonate, phosphate, 
 arseniate, niolybdate, chromate, chromo-mol- 
 ybdate, arsenio-phosphate, and antimonial 
 ai^entiferous. Besides all these, a single 
 vein contained native silver, native copper, 
 and native sulphur, three compounds of zinc, 
 four of copper, f.iur of iron, black oxide of 
 mansrane^c, sulphate of barvtes, and quartz. 
 
 The eastern portion of the United States 
 is supplied with lead almost exclusively from 
 Spain and Great Britain, but the western 
 states are furnished with this metal from 
 mine-s in Iowa, Wisconsin, and Missouri. 
 The lead veins of the eastern and southern 
 states are of little importance. In Maine the 
 ores are found in Cobscook B.iv, near Lubec 
 and Eastport, in limestone rocks near dikes 
 of trap. A mine was opened in 1 S3i}, and 
 a drift was carried in about 1 55 feet at the 
 base of a rockv cliff on the course of the 
 vein ; it was then abandoned, but operations 
 have recentlv been recommenced. In New 
 Hampshire arijentiferous galena is found in 
 numerous places, but always in too small 
 quantitv to pav the expenses of extraction. 
 At Shelbnme a l:\rje quartz vein was worked 
 from 1S46 to 1S49, and three shafts were 
 sunk, one of them 275 feet in depth. The 
 ore was found in bunches and narrow streaks, 
 but in small quantity. Some of it was 
 smelted on the spot, and five tons were 
 shipped to Encland. which sold for £16 per 
 ton. The richest yielded S-4 ounces of silver 
 to the ton. Another vein of argentiferous ga- 
 lena has been partiallv explored at Eaton, and 
 this is most likely of any to prove valuable. 
 
 Massachusetts, also, contains a number of 
 lead veins, none of which have proved prof- 
 itable., thouirh some of them have been 
 ■worked to considerable extent The most 
 noted are those of Southampton and East- 
 hampton. Operations were commenced at 
 the former place in 1765 upon a great lode 
 of quartz containing galena, blende, copper 
 pvrites, and sulphate of barytes. It is in a 
 coarse granitic rock near its contact with the 
 red sandstone of the Connecticut valley. 
 About the vear ISIO an adit level was 
 boldly laid out to be driven in from 1,100 to 
 1.200 feet, t-o intersect the vein at 140 feet 
 below the surface, A single miner is said to 
 have worked at it tiU his death, in ISiS, 
 Then it had reached the length of 900 feet. 
 
 At different times this adit has been pushed 
 on, and when last abandoned, in 1 854, it was 
 supposed to be within a few feet of the vein. 
 The rock was so excessively hard that the 
 cost of driving the adit was about 8-5 per 
 foot. Lead veins are found in Whately, Hat- 
 field, and other towns in Hampshire county. 
 In Connecticut, also, several veins have 
 been worked to some extent. That at Mid- 
 dletown, referred to in the introductory re- 
 marks as one of the earliest opened mines in 
 the United States, is the most noticeable. 
 It is unknown when this mine was first 
 worked. In 1S52 operations were renewed 
 upon it, and a shaft sunk 120 feet below the 
 old workings. The vein is among strata of 
 a silicious slate, in some places quite rich, 
 but on the whole it has proved too poor to 
 work. The ore contained silver to the value 
 of from $25 to $75 to the ton of lead. 
 
 Lead mines have been opened in Xew 
 York, in Dutchess, Columbia, "Washington, 
 Eensselaer, L Ister. and St, LawTence coun- 
 ties. In the first four of these the ore is 
 found in veins near the junction of the meta- 
 morphic slates and limestones. The Ancram 
 or Livingston mine, in Columbia countv, has 
 been worked at different times at consider- 
 able expense, but with no returns. A mine in 
 i Xortheast, Dutchess countv, was first opened 
 } by some German miners in 1740, and ore 
 from it was exported. The Committee of 
 Public Safety. durin<j the revolutionary war, 
 sought to obtain supplies of lead from it. 
 The lead veins of this part of New York have 
 attracted more interest, on account of their 
 hiffhlv arsrentiferous character, than the quan- 
 tity of ore they promise would justify ; but 
 it seems to be almost universallv the case 
 throughout the L'nited States that the galena 
 vieldint; much silver fails in quantitv. The 
 Ulster county mines are found on the west 
 side of the Shawangunk mountain in the 
 strata of hard grit rock which cover its west- 
 em slope. At different places along this 
 ridge veins have been fotmd cutting across 
 the strata in nearly vertical lines, and havs 
 produced some lead. zinc, and copper. The 
 Montgomery mine, near Wurtsboro, in Sul- 
 livan county, was chiefly productive ia zinc. 
 Xear Ellenville, Ulster county, several veins 
 have been followed into the mountain, and 
 ] one of these, which was worked in 1S53, 
 afforded for a short time considerable quan- 
 [ titles of rich lead and copper ore^. From 
 , the former there were smelted about 459.000 
 ' pounds of lead, and the sales of the latter 
 
lEAD. 
 
 83 
 
 amounted to from 60 to 70 tons, of which 50 
 tons yielded 24.3 per cent, of copper. Where 
 the vein was productive it contained the rich 
 ores unmixed with stony gangues, and some- 
 times presenting a thickness of five feet of 
 pure ore ; where it became poor it closed in 
 sometimes to a mere crack in the grit rock, 
 and then the expense of extending the work- 
 ings became very great from the extreme 
 hardness of this rock. Open fissures were 
 met with, one of which was more than 100 
 feet long and deep, and in places 12 feet or 
 more wide. It was partially filled with 
 tough yellow clay, through which were dis- 
 persed fragments of sandstone, magnificent 
 bunches of quartz crystals, and lumps of lead 
 and copper ores. The walls on the sides 
 also presented a lining in places of the same 
 ores. A drift was run into the base of the 
 mountain about 200 feet, and a shaft was 
 sunk at the foot of the slope about 100 feet. 
 The expense of working in the hard rock 
 proved to be too great for the amount of ore 
 obtained, and the mine was abandoned in 
 1854, although its production, for thcextent 
 of ground opened, has been exceeded by but 
 few other mines in the eastern states. The 
 most promising veins in the state are those 
 of St. Lawrence county in the vicinity of 
 Rossie. They occur in gneiss rock, which 
 they cut in nearly vertical lines. One of 
 these was opened along the summit of Coal 
 Hill, and was worked in 1837 and 1838 by 
 an open cut of 440 feet in length, to the 
 depth, in some places, of ISO feet. In 1839 
 the mine was abandoned, after the company 
 had realized about §241,000 by the sale of 
 some ] ,800 tons of lead they had extracted. 
 The galena was remarkably free from blende, 
 and from pyritous iron and copper, which 
 (especially the first-named) are so often asso- 
 ciated with the ore, rendering it diflncult to 
 smelt. Calcareous spar, often finely crystal- 
 lized, formed the gangue of the vein. A 
 nearly transparent crystal, weighing 1 65 lbs., 
 is preserved in the cabinet of Yale College. 
 Other attempts have been made to work the 
 mine ; and the cause of its being allowed to 
 lie idle appears to be the ditficulty of nego- 
 tiating a mining right with the proprietors. 
 In Pennsylvania the most productive lead 
 mines are those of Montgomery and Chester 
 counties, found in a small district of 5 or 6 
 miles in length by 2 or 3 in width, at the 
 line of contact of the gneiss, and red shale 
 and sandstone. About 12 parallel veins 
 have been discovered, extending north 32° 
 
 to 35° east, and dipping steeply south-ea-st. 
 In the gneiss they are productive in lead ores, 
 and in the red shale in copper. The gneiss 
 is decomposed, and the vein itself is in 
 considerable part ochreous and earthy, ow- 
 ing to decomposition of pj-ritous ores. In 
 this material, called by the miners gossan, 
 silver has been discovered amounting to 10 
 ounces to the ton. The two principal mines 
 of this group are the Wheatley and the Ches- 
 ter County. The former was opened in 1851, 
 and up to September, 1854, had produced 
 1,800 tons of ore, principally phosphate, esti- 
 mated to yield 60 per cent, of metal. In 
 this vein the great number of varieties of 
 lead and other ores enumerated above were 
 met with. The Chester County Mining Com- 
 pany commenced operations in 1850, and 
 up to November, 1851, had raised and smelted 
 190,400 lbs. of ore, almost exclusively phos- 
 phate, which produced about 47 per cent, of 
 lead. The silver in this ore amounted to 
 about 1.6 ounce in 2,000 lbs. ; in the galena 
 associated with it the silver was found in 
 quantities var}-ing from 11.9 to 16.2 ounces; 
 the coarser grained galena giving the most, 
 and the fine grained the least. In connec- 
 tion with the furnaces for smelting the ores, 
 was one for separating the silver by cupella- 
 tion, and a considerable amount of silver was 
 obtained before the mining operations were 
 abandoned, in 1854. 
 
 Lead ores are found along the Blue Ridge, 
 in Virginia, and at one point, near the cen- 
 tral portion of its range across the state, a 
 mine has been worked for a number of years. 
 They are also met with in several of the gold 
 mines, but not in workable quantities. In 
 south-west Virginia and east Tennessee the 
 ores are found in the silurian limestones, and 
 a considerable number of mines have been 
 worked to moderate extent in both states. 
 The most important one is the Wythe lead 
 mine, 16 miles from Wytheville, which was 
 worked in 1754. It is in a steep hill on the 
 border of New River, a fall upon which, near 
 the mine, affords power for raising the water 
 required in dressing the ores, and also for 
 producing the blast for the furnace. Several 
 shafts have been sunk, one of which extend- 
 ing down to the adit — a depth of 225 feet — 
 is used as a shot tower. The ores are ga- 
 lena, w ith more or less carbonates intermixed. 
 The product for 1855 is stated to have been 
 500 tons of lead. The transportation of 
 lead, in pigs, bars, and shot, from the south- 
 west part of Virginia toward the east, by the 
 
84 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Virginia and Tennessee railroad, for tlie years 
 named, has been as follows : — 
 
 1656. 1S57. I85S. 1859. 
 
 lbs. lbs. lbs. lbs. 
 
 Pi^Lead 409,649 514,879 168,405 854,695 
 
 Bar Ltad 234.037 5'2,230 ■;2,580 
 
 Bllot 364,660 120,142 104,623 21)4,910 
 
 Total 774,.309 869,057 320,258 1,182,24,5 
 
 In the other direction the transportation 
 of the same articles was comparatively unim- 
 portant. 
 
 South of Virijinia the only lead mine 
 of importance is the Washington mine, Da- 
 vidson countv, N. C This was opened in 
 1836, in the silicious and talcose slates of 
 the gold region, and was worked for the 
 carbonate of lead, which was found in a dull, 
 heavy ore of earthy appearance, with which 
 were intermixed glassy crystals of the same 
 mineral. Some galena and phosphate of 
 lead were also met with. After a time native 
 silver was detected, and the lead that had 
 T)een obtained was found to be rich in silver. 
 Till 184-i the mine continued to produce ores 
 containing much silver, and afforded the first 
 deposits of this metal in the mint from do- 
 mestic mines. The character of the ores 
 changed, however, below the depth of 125 
 feet, the silver almost disappearing. The 
 actual product of the mine is not known. 
 That of 1844 is said to have been 124,209 
 in value of silver, and $7,253 of gold, ob- 
 tained from 160,000 lbs. of lead — an average 
 of 240 oz. of auriferous silver to 2,000 lbs. 
 of metal. In 1851 the production was 56,896 
 lbs. of lead and 7,942.16 oz. of auriferous 
 silver — equal to 279 oz. to the ton of metal. 
 Zinc blende and galena bec.ime at last the 
 prevailing ores, the silver varying from 2.5 
 to 195 oz. to the ton; and the workings were 
 extended upon two parallel veins which lav 
 near each other in the slates. lu 1 852 min- 
 ing operations were abando'ned as unprofita- 
 ble, but were soon after renewed, and are 
 still continued. 
 
 The great lead mines of the United 
 States are the upper mines, in a district 
 near the Mississippi, in Iowa, the south-west 
 part of Wisconsin, and the north-west part 
 of Illinois ; and the lower mines, in Missouri. 
 The existence of lead ores in the upper dis- 
 trict was made known by Le Sueur, who dis- 
 covered them in his voyage up the Missis- 
 sippi in 1700 and I7ul. they attracted no 
 further attention, however, till a French miner, 
 Julien Dubuque, commenced to work them in 
 1788 ; and in this employment he continued, 
 
 on the spot wh^^re now stands the city in 
 Iowa bearing his name, until his death in 
 1809. When the United States acquired 
 possession of the country in 1S07, the min- 
 eral lands were reserved from the sales, and 
 leases of mining rights were authorized. 
 These were not, however, issued until 1822, 
 and little mining was done before 1826. 
 From that time the production of lead rap- 
 idly increased ; and the government for a 
 time received the regular rates for the leases. 
 But after 1 834 the miners and smelters refused 
 to pav tliem any longer, on account of so many 
 sales ha.ing been made and patents granted 
 of mineral lands in Wisconsin. In lts39 the 
 United States government authorized a geo- J 
 logical survey of the lead region, in order to 1 
 designate precisely the mineral tracts, and 
 this was accomplished the same year by Dr. 
 D. D. Owen, with the aid of 139 :issi.stants. 
 In 1844 it was decided to abandon the leas- 
 ing system, and throw all the lands into the 
 market. The lead region, according to the 
 report of Dr. Owen, extends over about 62 
 townships in Wisconsin, 10 in the north-west 
 corner of Illinois, and 8 in Iowa — a territory 
 altogether of about 2,880 square miles. Its 
 western limit is about 12 miles from the 
 Mississippi river ; to the north it extends 
 nearly to Wisconsin river; south to Apple 
 river, in Illinois ; and east to the east branch 
 of the Pekatonica. From east to west it is 
 87 miles across, and from north to south 54 
 miles. Much of the region is a rolling 
 prairie, with a few isolated hills, called 
 mounds, scattered upon its surface, the high- 
 est of them rising scarcely more than 200 
 feet above the general level. The prevailing 
 limestone formations give fertility to the soil, 
 and the country is well watered by numer- 
 ous small streams, which flow in valleys ex- 
 cavated from 100 to 150 feet below the 
 higher levels. The limestone, of gray and 
 vellowish gray colors, lies in nearly horizon- 
 tal strata, and the portion which contains 
 the lead veins hardly exceeds 50 feet in 
 thickness. Beneath it is a sandstone of the 
 age of the Potsdam sandstone, and above it 
 are strata of limestone recognized as belong- 
 ing to the Trenton limestone, so that it 
 proves to be a formation interposed between 
 these, quite western in character, as it is not 
 met with east of Wisconsin. The veins oc- 
 cupy straight vertical fissures, and several 
 near togetiier sometimes extend nearly a 
 mile in an east and west direction. They 
 never reach downward into the sandstone, 
 
85 
 
 but are lost in the lower strata of the lime- 
 stone, and where the upper strata of the for- 
 mation appear, these cover over the veins, 
 *nd are consequently known as the cap-rock. 
 In the fissures or crevices the jralena is found, 
 8ome<iines in loose sheets and lumps embed- 
 ded in clay and earthy oxide of iron, and 
 sometimes attached to one or both walls. 
 It is rarely so much as a foot thick. No 
 other ores are found with it, except some 
 zinc blende and calamine, and occasionally 
 pyritous iron and copper. The lead con- 
 tains but a trace of silver. The fissures, as 
 they are followed beneath the surface, some- 
 times expand in width till they form what 
 is called an " opening ;" and the hollow 
 space may go on enlarging till it becomes a 
 cave of several hundred feet in length and 
 30 or 40 in width. Their dimensions are, 
 however, usually within 40 or 50 feet in 
 length, 4 to 8 in width, and as many in 
 height. The walls of the openings often aftbrd 
 a thick incrustation of galena, besides more 
 or less loose mineral in the clay, among the 
 fragments of rock, with all of which the 
 caves are partially filled. Flat sheets of ore 
 often exten<l from the vertical fissures be- 
 tween the horizontal limestone strata; these 
 are more^apt to contain blende, and pyrites, 
 and calcareous spar than the ore of the verti- 
 cal crevices. Besides these modes of occur- 
 rence, galena is found in loose lumps in the 
 clayey loam of the prairies. This is called 
 float mineral, and is regarded as an evidence 
 of productive fissures in the vicinity. 
 
 The galena occurs under a variety of sin- 
 gular forms in the crevices. It lines curious 
 cavities which extend up in the cap-rock, ter- 
 minating above in a point, and which are 
 known as chimneys. Upon the roofs of the 
 openings it is found in large bunches of cu- 
 bical crystals, and the same are obtained lying 
 in the clays of the same openings. A flat 
 sheet of the ore was worked in Iowa that 
 was more than 20 feet across and from 2 to 
 3 feet thick, each side of which turned down 
 in a vertical sheet, gradually diminishing in 
 thickness. It yielded 1,200,000 lbs. of rich 
 galena, and more still remained behind in 
 sight. The crevices near Dubuque are the 
 most regular and productive of any in the 
 district. One called the Langworthy, on a 
 length of about three-fourths of a mile, has 
 produced 10,000,000 lbs. of ore. On the 
 main fissure there were usually three ranges 
 of crevices one above another, widening out 
 to 15 or 20 feet. 
 
 The smelters of this region form a distinct 
 class from the miners, of whom the former 
 buy the ores as these are raised, and convert 
 them into metal in the little smelting estab- 
 lishments scattered through the country. 
 The lead has been principally sent down the 
 Mississippi river to Saint Louis and New 
 Orleans ; but a portion has always been con- 
 sumed in the country, and some has been 
 wagoned across to Milwaukee before the con- 
 struction of railroads, which since 1853 have 
 aftbrded increased facilities for distributing 
 in difl'erent directions the product of the 
 mines. The only records of the amount of 
 lead obtained are those of the shipments 
 down the river. The following table present.^ 
 the number of pigs shipped from the earlier 
 workings to 1857; the figures for 184 1 to 
 1 850, inclusive, being furnished to Dr. Owen's 
 Report of 1852 by Mr. James Carter, of Ga- 
 lena. The pigs weigh about 70 lbs. each. 
 
 SHIPMENTS OF LEAD FROM 
 Years. Pigs. 
 
 1821 to 1823... 4,790 
 
 1824 2,503 
 
 1825 9,490 
 
 1826 i:!,700 
 
 1827 74,130 
 
 1828 158,655 
 
 1829 190,620 
 
 1S30 119,000 
 
 1831 91,170 
 
 1832 61,164 
 
 1833 113,440 
 
 1834 113,648 
 
 1835 158,330 
 
 1836 191,750 
 
 1837 219,360 
 
 1838 200,465 
 
 1839 357,785 
 
 1840 317,845 
 
 1841 452,814 
 
 THE UPPER MISSISSIPPI. 
 
 Years. Pie3. 
 
 1842 447";859 
 
 1843 561.321 
 
 1844 624,601 
 
 1845 778 460 
 
 1846 730,714 
 
 1847 771,679 
 
 1848 680,245 
 
 1849 628,934 
 
 1850 569,521 
 
 1851 474,115 
 
 1852 408,628 
 
 1853 425,814 
 
 1854 423,617 
 
 1855 430,305 
 
 1856 435,654 
 
 1857 485,475 
 
 1858 
 
 1859 
 
 The lead region of Missouri was first 
 brought into public notice by the explora- 
 tions of the F^ench adventurer, Renault, 
 who was sent out from Paris in 1720, with 
 a party of miners, to search for precious 
 metals in the territory of Louisiana, under 
 a patent granted by the French government 
 to the famous company of John Law. 
 Their investigations were carried on in the 
 region lying near the Mississippi and south 
 of the Missouri river; and here, though 
 they failed to find the precious metals they 
 were in search of, they discovered and 
 opened many mines of lead ore. A large 
 mining tract in the northern part of Madi- 
 son county is still called by the name of 
 their mineralogist, La Motte. Their opera- 
 
86 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 tioiis, ho\ve»'er, were altogether superficial, 
 and the lead they obtained was wholly by 
 the rude and wasteful process of smelting 
 the ores upon open log-heaps — a practice 
 which even of late years is followed to some 
 extent. Up to Renault's return to France, 
 in 1742, little progress had been made in 
 the development of this mining district. The 
 next step was made by one Moses Austin, 
 of Virginia, who obtained from the Spanish 
 government a grant of lard near Potosi, and 
 commenced in 1798 regular mining opera- 
 tions by sinking a shaft. lie also started 
 a reverberatory furnace and built a shot 
 tower. Schoolcraft states in his "View of 
 the Lead Mines of Missouri," that there 
 were in 1819 forty-five mines in operation, 
 giving employment to l.luO persons. Mine 
 a Burton and the Potosi diggings had pro- 
 duced from 1798 to 1816 an annual average 
 amount exceeding 500,0UU pounds ; and in 
 1811 the production of Mine Sliibboleth 
 was 3,125,000 pounds of lead from 5,000,- 
 000 pounds of ore. At a later period, from 
 1834 to 1837, the several mines of the La 
 Motte tract produced, it is estimated, 1,035,- 
 820 pounds of lead per annum. From 1840 
 to 1854 the total yield of all the mines is 
 stated by Dr. Litton in the state geological 
 report to amount to over 3,833,121 pounds 
 annually. At the close of this period it had, 
 however, greatly fallen oft", there being at 
 that time scarcely 200 persons engaged in 
 milling, besides those employed at the three 
 mines known as Perry's, Valle's, and Skew- 
 ers'. The principal mines have been in 
 Wasliington, St. Francis, and other neigh- 
 boring counties. The ores are found in 
 strata of magnesian limestone of an older 
 date than the galena limestone of Wiscon- 
 sin, and supposed to lie, with the sandstones 
 with which they alternate, on the same 
 geological horizon as the calciferous sand 
 rock, which is found in the eastern states 
 overlying the Potsdam sandstone. Some 
 of the mines are at the contact of the hori- 
 zontal limestone with granite rocks, but the 
 ores in this position are only in superficial 
 deposits or in layers included in the lime- 
 stone. In their general features the veins 
 do not diff'er greatly from those of the north- 
 ern mines. Some of them, however, con- 
 tain a larger proportion of other ores be- 
 sides galena, as well as a greater variety of 
 them. Carbonate of lead, called by the 
 Miners dry bone and white mineral, is 
 more abundant, and also blende, called by 
 
 them black jack, and the silicate of zinc. 
 Iron and copper pyrites are often seen, and 
 at Mine la Motte are found the black oxides 
 of cobalt and manganese associated with 
 the carbonates of lead and copper. Nearly 
 all the mining operations have been mere 
 superficial excavations in the clay, which 
 were soon exhausted of the loose ore and 
 abandoned. But to this there are some re- 
 markable exceptions of deeper and more 
 permanent mines than are known in the 
 northern lead regions. Such are Valle's 
 and Perry's mines, both situated on the 
 same group of veins, which form a network 
 of fissures and openings running in every 
 direction and spreading over an area of 
 about 1,500 feet in length by 500 in 
 breadth, the extension of which is from north- 
 west to south-east. These mines have been 
 steadily worked since 1 824, and 22 shafts 
 have been sunk upon the fissures, six of 
 which are over 110 feet deep, one is 1 70 
 feet deep, and only two are less than 50 
 feet. For the first 10 to 30 feet they pass 
 through gravel and clay, below this through a 
 silicious magnesian limestone of light color, 
 and then enter a very close-grained variety 
 of the same, called by the miners the cast 
 steel rock. A succession of openings are 
 encountered, which are distributed with 
 considerable regularity upon three different 
 levels. Those of the middle series have 
 been the most productive. Sometimes 
 chimneys connect them with the caves of 
 the tier above or below. The portion of 
 these mines on the Valle tract produced, 
 according to the state report, from 1824 to 
 1834 about 10,000,000 pounds of lead, and 
 in the succeeding 20 years about as much 
 more; and Perry's mine from 1839 to 1854 
 has produced about 1 8,000,000 pounds. 
 
 No accurate estimates have been pre- 
 served of the total production of the Mis- 
 souri mines. This has always fallen far 
 short of the yield of the northern mines. 
 From 1832 to 1843 it is reported as running 
 from 2,500 to 3,700 tons per annum, while 
 that of the northern mines in the same time 
 was from 5,500 to 14,000 tons, and ia 
 1845 it even exceeded 24,000 tons. In 1852 
 Mr. J. D. Whitney estimated that the pro- 
 duction in Missouri had fallen to 1,500 tons, 
 or less ; and from that period it has prob- 
 ably not advanced. As this decrease in 
 the supply has been going on while the 
 price of lead has risen to nearly three times 
 what it was in 1842, the cause is probably 
 
87 
 
 owing to the mines themselves being in 
 great part exhausted. The only sufficient 
 sources known from wliich the increasing 
 supplies required from 3ear to year can be 
 furnished, are the mines of Great Britain 
 and Spain, though should the argentiferous 
 lead mines of Mexico ever be worked for 
 the lead as well as the silver they contain, 
 they might furnish large quantities of the 
 
 Pig lend from 
 
 AiiKTicnn mines 
 
 receiveii at St. 
 
 Yeara. Luuis nnd New 
 
 Oili'.ins. 
 
 lbs. 
 
 1832 8,540,000 
 
 18.-)3 12,600,000 
 
 1834 1-1, 140.000 
 
 1835 16,000.000 
 
 1836 18,000,000 
 
 •1837 20,000,000 
 
 1838 20,860,000 
 
 1839 24.000,000 
 
 1840 27,000,000 
 
 1841 30,000,000 
 
 1842 33,110,000 
 
 1843 39,970,000 
 
 1844 44,730,000 
 
 1845 51,240,000 
 
 1846 54,950,000 
 
 1847 46.130,000 
 
 1848 42,420,000 
 
 1849 35,560,000 
 
 1850 40,313,910 
 
 1851 34.934,480 
 
 1852 28,593,180 
 
 1853 31,497,950 
 
 1854 21,472,990 
 
 1855 21,441,140 
 
 1856 15,347,880 
 
 1857 14,028,140 
 
 1858 21,210,420 
 
 1859 2,t,442,870 
 
 1860 22,68.-J,125 
 
 1861 21,5.)4,743 
 
 1862 20,370,188 
 
 1863 22,798,142 
 
 1S64 18,141,878 
 
 1865 18,266,.313 
 
 1866 23,393,4.50 
 
 1867 26,301,357 
 
 1868 30,014,759 
 
 1869 33,717,8.10 
 
 1870 37,1)6,742 
 
 For the year ending June 30, 1859, the 
 imports of lead are given at 64,000,000 
 pounds, worth nearly 1^2,700,000. Of this 
 about $57,000 worth were re-exported to 
 foreign countries, besides American lead to 
 the value of $30,000, and a small amount of 
 manufactured lead. 
 
 Lead Smelting. The lead mines of the 
 United States being scattered over wide ter- 
 ritories, and their products being nowhere 
 brought together in large quantities, the proc- 
 ess of reducing the ores has been conducted 
 in small establishments and by the most sim- 
 
 former metal. As the production of the 
 United States fell off that of Great Britain 
 increased from 04,000 tons in 1850 to 73,1 2'.> 
 tons in 1856, and 96,206 tons in 1857, thus 
 considerably exceeding one-half of the whole 
 production of the globe in this metal, which 
 in 1854 was rated at about 133,000 tons. 
 At that time the production of Spain was 
 rated at 30,000 tons, and of the United 
 States at 15,000 tons. 
 
 
 
 Average 
 
 
 Invoice 
 
 Pig, bar, and 
 
 Invoice value 
 
 rate of 
 
 White and 
 
 value of 
 
 sSeet lead 
 
 of yearly 
 
 duty per 
 
 red lead 
 
 yearly irn 
 
 imported. 
 
 iuiponatioDS. 
 
 100 lbs. 
 
 imported 
 
 portations 
 
 lbs. 
 
 
 
 lbs. 
 
 
 5,333,588 
 
 $124,311 
 
 $3.00 
 
 657,781 
 
 $30,791 
 
 2,282,068 
 
 60,660 
 
 3.00 
 
 625,069 
 
 36,049 
 
 4,997,293 
 
 168,811 
 
 2.77 
 
 1,024,663 
 
 57,572 
 
 1,006,472 
 
 35,663 
 
 2.77 
 
 832,215 
 
 50.225 
 
 919,087 
 
 35,283 
 
 2.55 
 
 908,105 
 
 62,237 
 
 335.772 
 
 13,871 
 
 2.57 
 
 599,980 
 
 47,316 
 
 165.844 
 
 6,573 
 
 2.34 
 
 522,681 
 
 38,683 
 
 528,922 
 
 18,631 
 
 2.31 
 
 720,408 
 
 50,;M)5 
 
 519,343 
 
 18,111 
 
 2.08 
 
 643,418 
 
 41,043 
 
 62,246 
 
 2,605 
 
 2.07 
 
 532,122 
 
 31,617 
 
 4,689 
 
 155 
 
 3.00 
 
 479,738 
 
 28,747 
 
 290 
 
 3 
 
 3.00 
 3.00 
 
 93,166 
 
 5,600 
 
 iV.eoD 
 
 '458 
 
 3.00 
 
 231,171 
 
 14,"7'44 
 
 214 
 
 6 
 
 3.00 
 
 215,434 
 
 15,685 
 
 224,905 
 
 6,288 
 
 0.56 
 
 298,387 
 
 15,228 
 
 2,684,700 
 
 85,387 
 
 0.64 
 
 318,781 
 
 19,703 
 
 36,997,751 
 
 1,182,597 
 
 0.'64 
 
 853,463 
 
 43,756 
 
 43,470,210 
 
 1,517,603 
 
 0.70 
 
 1,105,852 
 
 52,631 
 
 37,544,588 
 
 1,283,331 
 
 0.70 
 
 842,521 
 
 43,365 
 
 43,174,447 
 
 1,618,058 
 
 0.70 
 
 1,224,068 
 
 69,058 
 
 47,714,140 
 
 2,095,039 
 
 0.90 
 
 1,865,893 
 
 102,812 
 
 56,745,247 
 
 2,556,523 
 
 0.90 
 
 2,319,099 
 
 134,855 
 
 55,294,256 
 
 2,528,014 
 
 0.91 
 
 3,548,409 
 
 174,125 
 
 47,947.698 
 
 2.305,768 
 
 0.72 
 
 1,793,377 
 
 113,075 
 
 41,230,019 
 
 1,972,243 
 
 0.72 
 
 1,785,851 
 
 109,426 
 
 64.000,000 
 
 2,617,770 
 
 0.72 
 
 61,936 
 
 3,871 
 
 45,896,700 
 
 1,835,868 
 
 0.72 
 
 177,744 
 
 11,109 
 
 45,654,100 
 
 1,826,164 
 
 0.72 
 
 200,848 
 
 12,5.53 
 
 34,611,575 
 
 1,384,463 
 
 0.78 
 
 307,824 
 
 19,239 
 
 39,437,566 
 
 2,816,969 
 
 1.11 
 
 1,004,624 
 
 71,766 
 
 20.897,109 
 
 2,247,001 
 
 1.32 
 
 1,390,052 
 
 149,468 
 
 7,969,0S0 
 
 1,193,362 
 
 1.75 
 
 1,662,516 
 
 249,385 
 
 40.223,888 
 
 2,513,993 
 
 2.25 
 
 2,035,395 
 
 135,693 
 
 41,06),175 
 
 2,737,745 
 
 0.95 
 
 ■ 1,464,972 
 
 122,081 
 
 41,437,520 
 
 2,762,520 
 
 1.00 
 
 1,399,512 
 
 116,626 
 
 56,062,128 
 
 3,503,883 
 
 0.97 
 
 336,732 
 
 28,061 
 
 58,310,464 
 
 3,644,404 
 
 0.96 
 
 367,008 
 
 30,584 
 
 pie methods. The earlier operations were 
 limited to smelting the ores in log furnaces. 
 Upon a layer of logs placed in an inclosure 
 of logs or stones piled up, split wood was 
 set on end and covered with the ore, and 
 over this small wood again. The pile was 
 fired through an opening in front. The 
 combustion of the small wood removed from 
 the ore a portion of the sulphur, and the re. 
 duction was completed by the greater heat 
 arising from the burning of the logs. The 
 lead run down to the bottom and out in 
 front into a basin, whence it was ladled into 
 
S9 
 
 MINING tNnrSTUY OF THS rNITKD STATES. 
 
 till' inouMs. Tlio loss of luotal was of 
 rourso voi'v l;ir^o ; but ;i portion \v;»s i\>oov- 
 oroJ l>v tro.itiiisi the ivsiiluo ii\ what >v;is 
 o.illoil .-in :isl\ t'livnaoo. Tlio jiroooss is still 
 rosovtod to in pl:ioos whoro no l"urn;\oos ai\' 
 within ivai"h. Rut whorovor niiuos jtfo opon- 
 od that proiniso suttioiout supplios of oiv. 
 furnaoos arc soon oonstruotod ii\ thoir vicini- 
 ty. Thoso in uso arc of two sorts: tho 
 Soofoh hoarth an>l thon^'orhoratorv. Rosidos 
 thoso. anothor small fun\aoo is ot\on built 
 tor nioltiuij ovor tho sLipt. This is little 
 olso than a oruoihlo lM\ilt in hriok-work, aiul 
 arransTod tor tho Wast to ontor by an apor- 
 tviro in tho baok. ;ind for tho niot.al to tunv 
 out by anothor oponin^ in front, 
 
 Tho Sootoh hoarth is a small blast furnace, 
 but roson>blos tho open forjfi' or blooniary 
 liiv for ir>M\ oivs. It has long boon in uso in 
 luuvpo. and is tho invest ooninion furn.ioo at 
 vHir own uiinos. In this country it h;is boon 
 jjri\atly iniprvn-od by tho introduction of hot 
 blast ; and in its most perfect form is rop- 
 rv^sentod in tho acconijwnyinsj tiguros; tiguro 
 (I beiuji a vortical section frvMU front to back, 
 and ligure b a horiaontAl section. 
 
 SOOTV'H nK\RTn rVRSACS. 
 
 A is tho reserroir of lo*d of the fiiniace, 
 c^>nsistinij of « box, ojhmi at top. aK'>ut two 
 fi,H>t st^uare and one f»H>t deej\ fonned of 
 cast irvni 2 inches thick. Fri'>n» its upper 
 fr^nit e<lge a sloping he»rth. II, is fixovl so as 
 
 to rocoivo tho molted lead that ovortlinvs, 
 and conduct it by the groove into the basin, 
 H. In this it is kept in a ntelted state bv a 
 little tiri' beneath, anvl. as convenient, tho lead 
 is ladled out and poured into moulds. I>is 
 a hollow shell of cast iron J of an inch thick, 
 its inner and outer sides inclosing a space of 
 4 inches width. Into this .space the olast is 
 introduced at R, and becoming heated, 
 passes out at K. and thence through tho 
 curved pipe into a tuyere. T, c;»st in the air- 
 chest 'J inches above tho level of the lead 
 reservoir. Hefore eomnieneing operations 
 this n'sorvoir is to be tilled with lead, and is 
 thus kept so long as the furnace is in use ; 
 tho (process being conducted upon the sur- 
 foco of tho ntoltod metal. The furnace mav 
 bo kept in continn;»l operation by addintj 
 new charges of galena every ten or lit'toou 
 minutes, .and working them down attor thev 
 have become r<iasted at the surface. Tho 
 fuel employed is dry pine wood split into 
 small piooes. and billots of those are thr\>wu 
 in ;»gainst the tuyere jiist before each now 
 charge of ore. that already in the furnace 
 being raked forwar<l upon the he.arth to 
 make ri^om tor the fuel, and the blast boinji 
 temporarily turned oti". The old charsre is 
 then thrown, together with tWsh ore, upon 
 the wood, and the blast is let on, when tho 
 heat and tl.iino immediately spri\ad thr>Mi<;h 
 the materials. The sulphur in the ore serves 
 itself as fuel, accelerating tho prvicoss by its 
 combustion, and in a few minuter the 
 whole chanre is stirred up. spn^ad out on the 
 hoarth, auvi the luml, unre»luced fragments 
 ari> brvikon in pieces by blows of the sliovel. 
 Slaked lime is sometimes added in small 
 quantity when the jv»rti.-»lly reduiHvI ore be- 
 comes tiHi sot\ and p.asty by excess of heat^ 
 Its et^vt is to lessen this tendency rather bv 
 mochauical than chemical action. If any 
 tinx is used, it is tinor spar, blacksmith's 
 cinders, orbits of iron. Ihe latter h.'»steu 
 tho rciluction by the atlinity of tho ir\^n for 
 the sulphur of the ore. The c;ist irv^n of the 
 air-t>hest is prv>toctOiI fron\ tho action of tho 
 sulphur by tho cooling intluonco o{ the air 
 blown in ; and this is also advant;ia>H'>us bv 
 its keeping tho ftimaco frv^m becoming so 
 hvvt, that the galena would molt before losing 
 its sulphnr, and thus form combinations of 
 oxootHiingly ditlicnlt roiluction. A fan. run 
 by stoAm or water jv>wor, is commonly ora- 
 pioye<.I for raising tho bl.sst : but .is this gives 
 little pressure, it is roplacoil to great adran- 
 tAjTo bv blovrini: ovUnders, With an air- 
 
l.tAO. 
 
 m 
 
 Tttf.ttiv'iT for (giving regrikrity U> t\ifi <jurr<jnt ' «U1«» l/dng kept '/p'm at thh vianfi time t/> ak 
 t>( -At. With Mj';h afi ar/parat'i*, til/; (tffi'ilUrr low frw; a'wt** of air, Tiift o%iAMif>n t/f t\ie 
 can af>ply tJi/- b)a»t with great a/J vantage at Milphur ijs expedited by alrrxAt c/>ristarrt 
 tiro<^ t/-^ [i/:Ip 1/xxKm op the charge and ttirring of tf»« efiarge, whi/:h l/rir>g« fre*h 
 throw ttw: flarne thr'/tigh every part of it ! yitii'nut to ttwi «iirfe/'^;, f;a»i*irig an erolution 
 ITw: ore* are pTfijtAtfA for Kmefting by Wfp- i of white fam««. A* the»i hregin t^/ dimiu'uih, 
 arating from th«ra all the (st/^ny and clayey ' tlie fire U started on the grat*, and the heat 
 pirti<;l*«, arid a« mri/;b ais pontwible of th* is raijsed till tlie cl»arge itfifUioii and the piec^ 
 blende and other imptiritie« tfiat rnay afi- of ore a/lh<rre to tlie rake. The doors are 
 corn[/any tl»/;tf(. Tliw may require a *uc/yr»- [ then cl//«ed, and th* fire i« urgel t^r a 
 •ion of rnfc'rliar»i/;al pro';/r«^ai>, in whiA;h the quart/iT of an lioar, when the snuelterr opens 
 orc« are crushed to fine fragrfl«it« and dr'^is- the do'/r to *ee if the metal )>eparat«s and 
 *^ ^'X j'Jf^'f? an'i <!';reening under wat/;r. ^ flow* down tl»e ir««lined hearth. If the «ep- 
 \ot only ifc tl»/: labor and c/yrt of isnieltirig r':- aration d'/e* n//t go on well, it l* hastened 
 du/;/:d by the purity of tlie ore, an/i e«p<fj- by op^inirig one of the door», partially cool- 
 cialiy itK fr(:^;dom from blende and pyrites, ing the fumae';, arjd stirring the charge. The 
 but the quality also of the metal i* tl»/;reby fire bs tfi/;n a^^rain urged. If the »la^ which 
 improved. Lead that contain* iron i« n'/t form iscrm t/^ r^^jnire it, he treat* them with 
 a/lapt/jd for tlie manufacture of whiU^-lea/l. a ftjw Kh//velfuU of lime and fine c</al ; and 
 Tlie American m/:tal being generally free when, after having flowed down into the 
 from this bringis a higher price than .Sj/anijih lower portion '/f the hearth, they are 
 or EnglLith lea/1 With pure ore a cord of , brought into a doughy consistency, the 
 woo^i may l>e made to produce four tons of ' «melter pa»he« the islag to the opp'^te apper 
 lead ; and each fuma/^s 7,500 lb*, everj- 24 edge of the hearth, from whi/:b it is taken 
 houns ; a smelter and his a>Hti>ttant managing out through a d'Kjr on that side by hi* a»- 
 the operation for 12 hoars. At K/^ssie sLi-tant, wiiile he let* off the lead into th« 
 large quantities of lead have thus been receiver. 
 
 smelted at a daily c^/^t for lalK/r of |.5, and Tlie viparatif/n by this method is not so 
 for fuel of % 1 . 50, making % 1.75 per ton. In perfect a* by the Sc/tch hearth, and the 
 Wisconsin, before the aise of the hot bla^t, expenise of fuel us greater ; but the rerefbe- 
 ea<,-h fumace-iihift was continued from 8 to 10 rat/>rj- is worke/l without the necessitjr of 
 hours, until 30 pig* of lead were pro^lu^ed rteam or water [/ower, which is required to 
 of 2,100 lbs. weight, at an expense of about raise the blaftt for the other process. The 
 $4 for labor, and ^1.30 for fneL | slag's of the reverberatory contain so mach 
 
 The other tona of fumaee — the rerer- ' lead that they are always remelted ia the 
 beratory — resembles others of this class em- j slag furnace. Those of the Scotch hearth, 
 ployed in smelting copper ores. The sole, ' when pore ore« are employed, are sufficiently 
 or hearth, upon which the ores are spread, is . clear of metal without farther reduction. In 
 about 8 feet in length by 6 in breadth, and Europe other sorts of furnaces are in use, 
 is ma<ie to incline rapidly toward an aper- which are adapte/l paiticolarly for ores of 
 ture on one side, or at the end under the poorer quality than are ever emitted in the 
 chimney, and oat of which the lead is Unite/] States. 
 
 allowed at the end of each smelting to j In the Ilartz mountains, at Clansthal, 
 flow into a receiver outside. The charge is argentiferous silver or^ containing much 
 supplied either through a hf/pper in the \ silica are worked in close cupola furnaces, 
 arched roof, or through the holes in the , into which only enough mt is admitted to 
 sides, which also ser^-e for admitting the consume the fuel The object is not to 
 pokers use/l by the workmen to stir up the roast out the sulphur, bxit to cause this to 
 charge. Unless the galena has been jire- ' combine with the granulated cast iron or 
 viously calcined or roasted — a process neces- : with the quick-lime, either of which is mixed 
 sary for poor ores only — this is the first | with the ores to flux them and form a fiisible 
 thing to be attended to in all the smelting ' compound with the enlphnr, through which 
 operations. In the large charge of 30 cwt. the metallic lead cao easily find its way to 
 of ore this usually takes the first two hours the bottom. The production of a silicate of 
 of the process, and is efiected in great part lead is thus avoided, which is a difficult 
 by the heat remaining in the furnace from compound to reduce, and is always formed 
 the preceding operation, the doors at the 1 when much silica Is present. This process 
 
90 
 
 MIXING IXDISTRY OF THE IXITED STATES. 
 
 ■will probably be applied to some of the si- 
 licious ores of the United States, and may 
 be particularly suited to the Washoe ores of 
 California. 
 
 By all the methods of reducintj lead a 
 great loss is incurred by the volatilization of 
 a portion of the lead in white fumes, called 
 lead ashes. These are carried up through 
 the chimney of the furnace and fall upon 
 the ground in the neighborhood, poisoning 
 the vegetation and the water by the carbon- 
 ate of lead, which results from the fumes. 
 Trees even are killed, and the dogs die otf, 
 and also the cattle. In Scotland the lead 
 has been detected in chemical examinations 
 of the bodies of animals thus killed, and it 
 was particularly noticeable in the spleen. 
 For the injury thus occasioned at the fur- 
 naces of the United States no remedy has 
 been applied, but at many of the great es- 
 tablishments in Europe, where the loss of 
 lead and the damage to the neighborhood 
 is much more serious, attempts have been 
 made to arrest the fumes, by causing them 
 to pass through long flues in the chimney 
 stacks, in which the particles on cooling 
 ■would settle down; and their cooling has 
 been hastened bv showers of water falling 
 among the vapors. Flues have been extended 
 great distances beyond the works, and have 
 been found much more etficient than any 
 form of condensation by sudden cooling. 
 Some of the works constructed for this pur- 
 pose are very remarkable for their great 
 extent and the saving thev have effected, 
 and similar ones may perhaps be found well 
 worthy of construction at some of the smelt- 
 ing establishments in the United States. At 
 the works of Mr. Beaumont, in Northum- 
 berland, England, horizontal or slightly in- 
 clined g:>llerics have been completed in stone- 
 ■work, 8 feet high and 6 feet wide, for an 
 extent of 8, TS9 yards (nearly five miles). 
 This is from one mill alone. The s;ime pro- 
 prietor has connected with other mills in 
 the same district and in Durham four miles 
 of galleries for the same purpose. The 
 ■writer who gives the account of these in the 
 recent edition of Ure's Dictionary, by Rob-' 
 ert Hunt, remarks: "The value of the 
 lead thus saved from being tot^illy dissipated 
 and dispersed, and obtained from what in 
 common parlance might be called chimney | 
 sweepings, considerably exceeds £10.000 i 
 sterling annually, and tonus a striking illus- 
 tration of the importance of economizing j 
 our waste products." Not ooly is lead lost : 
 
 in the fumes, but in the working of argentif- 
 erous lead ores, a portion of the silver too 
 is carried otF and deposited with them. The 
 fumes collected at the works of the Duke 
 of Buccleuch yield one-third their weight of 
 lead, and five ounces of silver to the ton. The 
 loss of silver is of little importance in this 
 country, where this metal is not obtained at 
 the present time, unless it be at the Wash- 
 ington mine, in North Carolina, and at the 
 Washoe mines, in California; and conse- 
 quently methods of separating it from the 
 lead possess little more than scientific interest. 
 In the smelting of .argentiferous lead ores, 
 the silver goes with the lead, beins; com- 
 pletely dissolved and diffused throughout its 
 substance. The usual way of separatincj it is 
 founded on the principle of the lead being a 
 metal easily oxidized and converted into the 
 substance called litharge, in which condi- 
 tion it lets go the silver, which has no .aflinity 
 either for the new compound of oxygen and 
 lead, or for the oxygen alone. The change 
 is effected by melting the lead in the shallow 
 basins called cupels, formed of a porous 
 earthy material, as the pulverized ashes of 
 burned bones, kneaded with water, and 
 mixed in a framework of iron. W"hen dried, 
 these are set in a reverberatory furnace, and 
 the pigs of lead are melted upon their sur- 
 face. After being thoroughly heated, a cur- 
 rent of air is made to draw through an open- 
 ing in the side of the furnace directly upon 
 the face of the melted metal. This oxidizes 
 the lead, and the yellow litharge with more 
 or less red oxide, called minium, collects in 
 a thin film upon its surface, and floats otf to 
 the edge, sinking into and incrusting the 
 cupel and falliui; over its side into a recep- 
 tacle placed to receive it. This process goes 
 on, the lead gradually disappearinij as the 
 oxygen combines with it, till with the re- 
 moval of the last films of oxide the melted 
 silver suddenly presents its brilliant, perfectly 
 unsullied face. The oxide of lead may be 
 collected and sold for the purposes of 
 lithai^e, as for a pigment, for use in the 
 manufacture of glass, etc. ; or it may be 
 mixed with fine coal and converted hack 
 into lead, the carbon of the coal effecting 
 this change by the greater affinity it has at 
 a high heat for the oxygen, than the lead has 
 to retain it. By this process, known as 
 cupellation, lead is hardly worth treating for 
 silver, unless it contain about 10 ounces to 
 the ton of the precious metal ; and it was 
 therefore an important object to devise a 
 
LEAD. 
 
 91 
 
 method of saving with economy the silver 
 lost in the large quantities of the poorer 
 argentiferous leads. Such a method was 
 accidentally discovered in 1829 by Mr. 
 Pattinson, of Newcastle, and is now exten- 
 sively in use in Europe for the poorer silver- 
 leads, cupellation being preferred for the 
 richer. He observed that when the lead 
 containing silver forms crystals, as it is 
 stirred while in a melted state, the crystals 
 contain little or none of the silver, and may 
 be removed, thus concentratinsj the silver 
 in the portions left behind. This crystal- 
 lizing process is applied in the large way -as 
 follows : Cast iron pots are set in brick- 
 work side by side, capable of holding each 
 one 4 or 5 tons of lead. The middle one 
 is first charged, and when the lead is melted 
 and stirred, the fire is removed under the 
 next pot to the right ; and into this crystals 
 of lead as they form are ladled by means of 
 a sort of cullender, which lets the fluid lead 
 fall back. This instrument is kept hotter 
 than the lead by frequently dipping it in a 
 pot of lead over a separate fire. When four- 
 fifths of the lead have been transferred to 
 the pot to the right, the remainder, which 
 contains all the silver, is removed to the next 
 pot to the left, and the middle pot is then 
 charged with fresh lead, which is treated in 
 the same manner. The process is repeated 
 with each pot, as it becomes full, four-fifths 
 of its contents going to the next pot to the 
 right, and one-fifth to the next to the left, 
 and thus the lead is finally discharged into 
 moulds at one end, and the argentiferous 
 alloy, concentrated to the richness of 300 
 ounces of silver to the ton, is run into bars 
 about 2 inches square. From these the 
 silver is obtained by cupellation. At one 
 establishment in Englaud, that of Messrs. 
 Walker, Parker & Co., the weekly product 
 of silver is from 8,000 to 10,000 ounces. 
 Whenever the lead mines of the eastern 
 states are made to yield regular returns of 
 lead, the separation of its silver is likely to 
 be carried on in independent establishments, 
 supplied like the copper-smelting works with 
 material from various sources. Works hav- 
 ing these objects in view were established 
 in the fall of 1860, at Brooklyn, New York, 
 by Messrs. Bloodgood & Ambler, and will 
 commence operations with the smelting of 
 the Washoe silver-lead ores from California, 
 of which over sixty tons have been delivered 
 at the works for reduction. Their success- 
 ful treatment will no doubt be followed by 
 6* 
 
 the shipment of other ores of the difl^erent 
 metals from various sources ; and it is to be 
 hoped that it will hereafter be found more 
 advantageous to send ores to New York to 
 be reduced, than to the smelting establish- 
 ments on the other side of the Atlantic. 
 
 Useful Applications of Lead. — A con- 
 siderable part of the lead product of the world 
 is converted into the carbonate, known a^ 
 white lead, and used as a paint. The prin- 
 cipal articles of metallic lead are sheet lead, 
 lead pipe, and shot. Sheet lead is manu- 
 factured in two ways. The melted lead is 
 upset from a trough suspended over a per- 
 fectly level table, covered with fine sand, and 
 furnished with a raised margin ; and when 
 the metal has spread over this, a couple of 
 workmen, one on each side, carry along a 
 bar supported upon the margin, pushing 
 forward the excess of lead above that neces- 
 sary for the required thickness, till it falls 
 over the end of the table. By the other 
 method, called milling, the lead is cast in a 
 pl.ate, 6 or 7 feet square, and 6 inches thick, 
 and this being taken up by a crane, is placed 
 upon a line of wooden rollers, which form 
 a flooring for the length it may be of 70 or 
 80 feet and a width of 8 feet. Across the mid- 
 dle of this line are set the two heavy iron 
 rolls by which the lead plate is compressed, 
 as it is passed between them. The top of 
 the lower roll is on a level with the top of 
 the wooden rollers, and the upper roll is so 
 arranged that it can be set nearer to or further 
 from the lower one, as the thickness of the 
 plate requires. 
 
 Lead pipe was formerly made by turning 
 up sheet lead and soldering the edges ; and 
 is still prepared in this way for the large 
 sizes, as those over six inches diameter. Af- 
 ter this a method was contrived of casting 
 the lead in a hollow cylindrical plug, its 
 inner diameter of the bore required, and then 
 drawing this down through slightly conical 
 dies of decreasing diameter, a mandril or 
 steel rod being inserted to retain the uniform 
 diameter of the bore. Pipes made in this 
 way were limited to 15 to 18 feet in length, 
 and the metal was full of flaws. Many at- 
 tempts have been made to cast long lengths 
 of lead pipe, all of which have proved unsuc- 
 cessful. In 1820 Thomas Burr, of England, 
 first applied the hydraulic press to forcing 
 lead, when beginning to solidify in cooling, 
 through an annular space between a hollow 
 ring and a solid core secured in its centre. 
 He thus produced pipes of considerable 
 
MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 length. The method of forcing the Hquid 
 metal througli dies to form pipes was, how- 
 ever, fii-st p.'iteiited in 1797 by Bramah, who 
 used a pump foi- this purpose. The process 
 was introduced into this country in 1840-41 
 by Messrs. Tatliam & Brothers, now of New 
 York, who invented and patented an impor- 
 tant improvement in tlie method of secur- 
 ing the die and core. In this operation the 
 melted lead is made to flow from the furnace 
 into a cylindrical cavity in a block of cast 
 iron, which may be of 1 800 lbs. weight, and 
 from this, when cooled to the proper tem- 
 perature, it is forced out through the die by 
 a closel3'-fitting piston. By one process the 
 piston, starting from the bottom of the cylin- 
 drical cavity, moves upward, carrying with it 
 the slender core or rod which determines the 
 diameter of the bore of the pipe, and pushes 
 the melted lead before it through the die 
 fixed in the top of the cast iron block. The 
 pipe as it is formed passes out from the top 
 of the machine, and is coiled around a re- 
 ceiving drum. By the machine contrived by 
 Mr. Cornell of New York, the great iron 
 block containins the lead rises by the press- 
 ure of the hydraulic machine, and the piston 
 which is fixed above it enters the cavity. 
 The piston in this case is hollow and the die 
 is set in its lower end. The core is secured 
 in the bottom of the block, and is carried 
 upward as this rises. The pressure applied 
 in this operation amounts to 200 to 300 tons. 
 Dies are used of a great variety of sizes, accord- 
 ing to the kind of pipe required. Lead wire 
 is made in this way with a die of \-cry small 
 size without a core. It is used for securing 
 vines and attaching tags to fruit trees and 
 shrubs. The principal works in the United 
 States engaged in the manufacture of sheet 
 lead and lead pipe are in New York, Boston, 
 Philadelphia, Chicago, Cincinnati, and Saint 
 Louis. 
 
 Lead pipe is in general use as the most 
 convenient conduit for water for domestic 
 purposes. It is readily bent to any angle, 
 and is made to adapt itself to any position. 
 When water freezes within and bursts it, the 
 damage is easily repaired ; joints are also 
 made with little trouble. The lead is not 
 liable to become rusty like iron, and is 
 cheaper than tin or copper. These qualities 
 give to it a preference over other kinds of 
 pipe, notwithstanding the ver}- serious objec- 
 tion that the lead is often acted upon b)- the 
 water, and produces poisonous salts of a very 
 dantjerous character. Some waters more than 
 
 others have a tendency to promote the oxid- 
 ation of the lead. This is particularly likely 
 to occur with nearly all waters in pipes which 
 are alternately exposed to the action of air 
 and water, as when the water being drawn 
 out, the air enters and takes its place. The 
 oxide of lead is converted by carbonic acid 
 gas, which is present in almost all water, into 
 a carbonate of lead which is soluble to some 
 extent in an excess of the gas, and is carried 
 along, bearing no indication of its presence, 
 wdiile the lead pipe continues to be corroded 
 until it may be in places eaten nearly through. 
 The water used for drinking and for culinary 
 purposes is thus continually introducing an 
 insidious poison into the system, the effect 
 of which is at last experienced in the disease 
 known as the painters' colic, often followed 
 by paralysis. As this occurs without a sus- 
 picion being awakened of the real source of 
 the disease, and is produced by quantities so 
 small as from -Jj to J^ of a grain in the gal- 
 lon, the use of lead pipe is properly regard- 
 ed by scientific men as always unsafe ; and 
 some substitute for this metal in pipes and 
 in sheets used for lining water cisterns, is 
 highly desirable. It has been proposed to 
 coat the pipe with some insoluble lining; 
 but such an application necessarily increases 
 its cost, it may perhaps be removed by hot 
 water flowing through the pipe, and the pur- 
 chaser may have no confidence in the coating 
 being faithfully applied, or as certain to be 
 efficient during long-continued use. Block 
 tin is perfectly safe, but it is expensive, and 
 is moreover likely to be alloyed with the 
 cheaper metal lead, which in this condition 
 is thought to be equally dangerous as when 
 used alone. As no popular substitute for 
 lead is provided, it is a reasonable precaution 
 for those employing it to be always watchful 
 and on their gu<ard against its evil effects — 
 using as little of it as necessary, causing the 
 water to be occasionally tested, and, when- 
 ever opportunity offers, cutting open and ex- 
 amining pieces of the pipe to see whether iis 
 internal surface is corroded, and every morn- 
 ing before using the water that h.as stood in 
 the pipes, to cause this to flow away to- 
 gether with enough more to thoroughlj' wash 
 out the pipes and remove any salts of lead 
 that may have formed in them during the 
 night. 
 
 Large quantities of lead are consumed in 
 the L^nited States in the manufacture of shot 
 and bullets ; and one ingenious method of 
 producing shot is an American invention. 
 
93 
 
 The quality of the lead emplo\'e<:l for this 
 purpose is of little importance. The harder 
 and inferior sorts, which would not answer 
 for the white lead manufacture, are economi- 
 cally diverted to this object. If too brittle, 
 from the iron and antimony combined with 
 the lead, the metal is made to assume the right 
 quality by mixing with it a small proportion 
 of arsenic, which, for most kinds of lead, 
 may amount to one per cent. To introduce 
 this into the lead a large pot of the metal is 
 molted, and powdered charcoal or ashes is 
 laid around its edge. The arsenical com- 
 pound, either of white arsenic or of orpi- 
 ment (the sulphuret of arsenic), is then stir- 
 red into the centre of the mass, and a cover 
 is tightly luted over the pot. In the course 
 of a few hours, the mixture being kept hot, 
 the combination of the lead with the arsenic 
 is completed, and a portion of litharge floats 
 upon the surface. This is formed from the 
 oxygen of the white arsenic uniting with 
 some of the lead, and it retains a portion of 
 the arsenic. The alloy is now tried b}' let- 
 ting a small quantity of it fall from a mod- 
 erate height through a strainer into water. 
 From the appearance of the globules the 
 quality of the mixture is judged of. If 
 they are lens-shaped, too much arsenic has 
 been used ; but if they are flattened on the 
 side, or hollowed in the middle, or drag with 
 a tail behind them, the proportion of arsenic 
 is too small. When a proper mixture is ob- 
 tained it is run into bars, and these are taken 
 to the top of a tower, from 100 to 2uu feet 
 high, where the load is molted and poured 
 through cullenders, which are kept hot by 
 being placed in a sort of chafing-dish con- 
 taining burning charcoal. The lead is thus 
 divided into drops that fall to the bottom, 
 and are received in a vessel of water. Each 
 cullender has holes all of the same size, which 
 is considerably less than that of the shot 
 produced by them. This is owing to the 
 drop of melted lead first assuming an elon- 
 gated fonn, which is concentrated into tlie 
 globular by the air impinging equally upon 
 all sides in the course of its descent. When 
 it reaches the water, it is important that it 
 should have cooled throughout, so that no 
 solid crust be suddenly formed over a fluid 
 interior ; and hence, for large shot it is evi- 
 dent the height of the f;ill must be greater 
 than is required for small shot. The tem- 
 perature of the lead also, when it is dropped, 
 must vary according to the size of the shot; 
 for the largest size being so low that a straw 
 
 is hardly browned when thrust into it. A 
 portion of the lead becomes oxidized and is 
 cauglit in the cullender, the bottom of which 
 it coats, and serves a useful purpose by 
 checking the too rapid flow of the melted 
 lead through the holes. The holes vary 
 in size, from -^^ of an inch for shot larger 
 
 than No. 1, to 
 
 of an inch for No. 9. 
 
 The shot being taken out of the water and 
 dried upon the surface of a long steam chest, 
 are transferred to an iron cask suspended 
 upon an axis passing through its ends, and 
 a little plumbago being introduced with 
 them, the cask is made to revolve until the 
 shot are thoroughly cleaned and polished. 
 The next operation is to separate the imper- 
 fect ones from the good. This is done by 
 rolling them all together down a succession 
 of inclined platforms, separated by a narrow 
 space between each. The good shot clear 
 these spaces and are caught below, while the 
 bad ones fall through upon the floor. The 
 good are then introduced into the sifters for 
 assorting them according to their sizes. 
 Several sieves are arranged like drawers in a 
 case ; the coarsest above, and finer ones suc- 
 ceeding below'. The upper tier of sieves be- 
 inff chartred, the case is set rocking, and the 
 shot are soon assorted, and are then read}' for 
 packing in bags. Bullets and buck-shot are 
 moulded by hand from a large pot of the 
 metal into moulds with many receptacles. 
 
 The American process of shot-making was 
 invented in 1848 by David Smith, of the 
 firm of T. 0. Leroy & Co., of New York, 
 by whom it is exclusively used. Its object 
 is to dispense with the use of the costly high 
 towers, by substituting for them a lower fall 
 against an ascending current of air. This 
 current is produced by a fan-blower operat- 
 ing at the base of an upright hollow shaft 
 into which the shot are dropped from a 
 moderate height. The power required to 
 run tlie fan is not much more than that or- 
 dinaril}' expended in raising the lead to the 
 top of the high towers ; and it is found that 
 the load, in consequence of its being more 
 rapidly and equally cooled in the short de- 
 scent against the current of air, may be useil 
 at a higher temperature than is practicable 
 with that dropped from high towers ; and 
 thus it may not onl}- be poured more rapidly, 
 but it has not the tendency to burst in falling 
 and form imperfect shot, as is the case with 
 that dropped from high towers, to guard 
 against which the lead is kept at a low tem- 
 perature. 
 
94 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 There are in New York city, besides this 
 operation, which is carried on by Messrs. 
 Lcroy, in Water street, three shot towers, 
 and a fourth is nearly completed on Staten 
 Island. The ordinary capacity ot" these is 
 from 3000 to 4000 tons of shot per annum. 
 The annual shot production of St. Louis is 
 about the same as that of New York, though 
 there is now onl}' one shot tower in use. 
 There were formerly seven more on the river 
 bluffs below the city, but these have hardly 
 been used since 1847. In Baltimore is a 
 tower the height of which, includini; ten 
 feet constructed below the surface of the 
 ground, is 256 feet, which exceeds by one 
 foot the height of the famous tower in Vi- 
 enna, described by Dr. Ure as the highest 
 structure of the kind in the world, being 
 249 feet above the surface of the ground. 
 Its production is stated to be about 400 
 tons per annum. In Philadelphia there is 
 one tower wliich makes about 300 tons an- 
 nually ; in Wythe county, Virginia, is one 
 formed in one of the shafts of the mine, 
 making about 200 tons ; and on the Wis- 
 consin river, at Helena, is a small tower 
 probably making about as much inoie. The 
 actual production of the country in sliot and 
 bullets is supposed to be about 7000 tons, 
 and to have made but little advance for 
 many years past. 
 
 White LEAo.^Before the introduction 
 of the oxide of zinc as a paint, one of the 
 most important uses of lead was its conver- 
 sion into the carbonate or white lead. The 
 manufacture was originally carried on almost 
 exclusively in Holland ; and it was not until 
 near the close of the last century that it was 
 introduced into England. In the United 
 States it was unknown until alter the war of 
 1812, and being first undertaken in Pliiladel- 
 l)!iia, it was afterward cxiended to New York 
 and Brooklyn, and in the latter city has pros- 
 pered more than in any other part of the 
 country. Various attempts have been made 
 to introduce new metliods of manufacture, but 
 the old Dutch process has continued in gen- 
 eral use; the modifications of it which have 
 raised the manufacture in this country to a 
 higher state of perfection than in any other 
 part of the world being merely improve- 
 ments in the details, by which ingenious 
 machinery has been made to diminish the 
 labor expended in the process. 
 
 White lead is a combination of oxide of 
 lead with carbonic acid, and is obtained in 
 the form of a soft, very white, and heavy 
 
 powder. It mixes readily with oil, giving 
 to it a drying property, spreads well under 
 the brush, and perfectly covers the surfaces 
 to which it is applied. It is not only em- 
 ployed alone as the best sort of white paint, 
 but is the general material or body of a great 
 number of paints, the colors of which are 
 produced by mixing suitable coloring mat- 
 ters with the white lead. Besides its use as 
 a paint it is also in demand to a considerable 
 extent as an ingredient in the so-called vul- 
 canized india-rubber. To prepare it, the 
 purest pig lead, such as the refined foreign 
 lead and the metal from the upper mines of 
 the Mississippi, is almost exclusively used. 
 This was by the old methods made in thin 
 sheets, and these into small rolls, to be sub- 
 jected to the chemical treatment. But ac- 
 cording to the American method devised by 
 Mr. Augustus Graham of Brooklyn, and now 
 generally adopted, the lead is cast into cir- 
 cular gratings or "buckles," which closely 
 resemble in form the laige old-fashioned 
 shoe-buckles, from which they receive their 
 name. They are six or eight inches in di- 
 ameter, and the lead hardly exceeds one 
 sixth of an inch in thickness. Ingenious 
 methods of casting them are in use in the 
 American factories, by which the lead is run 
 upon moulds directly from the furnace, and 
 the buckles are separated from each other 
 and delivered without handling into the 
 vessels for receiving them. They are then 
 packed in earthen pots shaped like flower- 
 pots, each of which is provided with a 
 ledge or three projecting points in the in- 
 side, intended to keep the pieces above the 
 bottom, in which is placed some strong vine- 
 gar or acetic add. It is recommended th:it 
 on one side the pot should be partially open 
 above the ledge, and if made full all round, 
 it is well to knock out a piece in order to 
 admit a freer circulation of vapors through 
 the lead. In large establishments an im- 
 mense supply of these pots is kept on h.ind, 
 the number at the single manufactory of 
 Messrs. Battelle & Renwick, on the Iludioi, 
 being not less than 200,000. They con- 
 tinue constantly in use till accidentally 
 broken below the ledge. Being packed 
 close together in rows upon a bed of spent 
 tan, a foot to two feet thick, and thin sheets 
 of lead are laid among and over the pots in 
 several thicknesses, but always so as to leave 
 open spaces among them. An area is thus 
 covered, it may be twenty feet square or 
 of less dimensions, and is enclosed by board 
 
LEAD. 
 
 95 
 
 partitions, which, upon suitable framework, 
 can be carried up twenty-five feet high if 
 required. When the pots and the inter- 
 stices among them are well packed with 
 lead, a flooring of boards is laid over them, 
 and upon this is spread another layer of 
 tan ; and in the same manner eight or ten 
 •courses are built up, containing in all, it may 
 be, 12,000 pots and 50 or 60 tons of lead, 
 all of which are buried beneath an upper 
 layer of tan. As the process of conversion 
 requires from eight to twelve weeks, the 
 large factories have a succession of these 
 stacks which are charged one after another, 
 so that when the process is completed in 
 one, and the pots and lead have been re- 
 moved and the chamber is recharged, anoth- 
 er is ready for the same operation. 
 
 The conversion of metallic lead into car- 
 bonate is induced by the fermenting action, 
 Avhieh commences in the tan soon after the 
 pile is completed. The heat thus generated 
 evaporates the vinegar, and the vapors of 
 water and acetic acid rising among the lead 
 oxidize its surface and convert it externally 
 into a subacetate of lead; at the same time 
 carbonic acid evolved from the tan circulates 
 among the lead and transforms the acetate 
 into carbonate of the oxide, setting the 
 acetic acid free to renew its office upon 
 fresh surfaces of lead. When the tan ceases 
 to ferment the process is at an end, and the 
 stack may then be taken to pieces. The 
 lead is f mnd in its original forms, but of 
 increased bulk and weight, and more or less 
 completely converted into the white carbo- 
 nate. The thoroughness of the operation 
 depends upon a variety of circHmstances ; 
 even the weather and season of the year 
 having an influence upon it. The pieces 
 not entirely converted have a core of me- 
 tallic or " blue" lead beneath the white car- 
 bonate crust. The separation is made by 
 beating ofl' the white portion, and this being 
 done upon perforated copper shelves set in 
 large wooden tanks and covered with water, 
 the escape of the fine metallic dust is entire- 
 ly prevented and its noxious effect upon 
 the health of the workmen is avoided. In 
 Europe, rolling machines closely covered 
 are applied to the same purpose, but less 
 effectuall)-. The white lead thus collected 
 is next ground with water between mill- 
 stones to a thin paste, and by repeated 
 grindings and washings this is reduced to 
 an impalpable consistency. The water is 
 next to be removed, and, according to the 
 
 European plan, the creamy mixture is next 
 turned into earthen pots, and these are ex- 
 posed upon shelves to a temperature not ex- 
 ceeding 300° until perfectly dry. Instead 
 of this laborious method, the plan is adopted 
 in the American works of emploving shal- 
 low pans of sheet copper, provided with a 
 false bottom, beneath which steam from the 
 exhaust-pipe of the engine is admitted to 
 promote evaporation. These pans or " dry- 
 ing kilns" are sometimes 100 feet long and 
 6 feet broad, and seveial are set in the build- 
 ing one above another. The liquid lead 
 paste is pumped up into large tanks, and tho 
 heavier portion settling down, is drawn off 
 into the pans, while the thinner liquid from 
 the surface is returned to be mixed with 
 fresh portions of white lead. Beside pans, 
 tile tables heated by flues in the masonrv of 
 which they are built, are also employed. 
 From four to six days are required for thor- 
 oughly drying the wdiite lead. This is the 
 finishing process, after which the lead is 
 ready for packing in small casks for the 
 market. 
 
 The manufacture of white lead, which 
 was formerly an unhealthy and even dan- 
 gerous occupation, has been so much im- 
 proved by the expedients for keeping the 
 material wet and thus preventing the rising 
 of the fine dust, that the peculiar lead dis- 
 ease now rarely attacks the workmen. The 
 business is conducted altogether upon a large 
 scale, and gives employment to numerous 
 extensive factories in different parts of the 
 country. Some of these have arrangements 
 for converting-stacks that extend under cover 
 200 feet in length, and their facilities for 
 grinding and drying are proportionally ex- 
 tensive. These, and the time required for 
 fully completing the process and getting the 
 white lead ready for market — which is from 
 three to four months — involve the use of 
 large capital and tend to keep the business 
 in few hands. 
 
 There is a vastly increasing demand for 
 pure white lead, and the competition and 
 watchfulness of the trade insure the gen- 
 uineness of the article thus warranted by 
 the manufacturers. A large class of cus- 
 tomers are the grinders, who form a distinct 
 trade, and use and mix the pure article with 
 other substances and with coloring matters 
 to suit their purposes. The mineral, sul- 
 phate of barytes or heavy spar, is the chief 
 article used to adulterate white lead, and for 
 this purpose it is obtained from mines in 
 
96 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Connecticut and other places, and is exten- 
 sively ground in mills for this use alone. 
 When perfectly pure, the powder is abso- 
 lutely white ; it has about the same weight 
 as white lead, and is quite as indestructible ; 
 it is, indeed, less acted upon or discolored 
 by noxious vapors. It lacks, however, the 
 body of white lead, and is not so brilliant '■ 
 and v/lienever used in any proportion ma- 
 terially injures the paint in those good 
 fjiiallties. Oxide of zinc is also largely mix- 
 ed with white lead, as will be noticed more 
 particularly in the succeeding chapter. 
 
 The principal white lead works, together 
 with the probable amount of their annual 
 production, in the United States are as 
 follows : — 
 
 No. of Works. Tons. 
 
 Brooklyn, N. Y 4 8000 
 
 Statcn'Jslantl, N. V 1 1500 
 
 Hudson RiviT (Saugertics), N. Y.. 1 1500 
 
 Bumilo, N. Y 1 600 
 
 Philadelphia, Pa -B 3500 
 
 Pittsburg, Pa 5 4000 
 
 Baltimore, Md 1 600 
 
 Boston, Mass 1 1000 
 
 Salem, Mass 1 1500 
 
 Cineinnati, 2 1500 
 
 Louisville, Kv 1 700 
 
 Chirano, 111.." 2 1200 
 
 St. Louis, Mo 3 4000 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ZINC. 
 
 While the production of the lead mines 
 has been falling off in the United States, 
 that of the zinc mines has been steadily in- 
 creasing since they were first worked about 
 twenty years since ; and the metal is applied 
 to some purposes for which lead has heretofore 
 been almo-t exclusively used. The growing 
 importance of this product in the United 
 States will justify a reference to the zinc 
 manufacture of Europe. 
 
 The metal, as mentioned in the chapter 
 on Copper, very curiously escaped the no- 
 tice of the ancients, though they obtained it 
 from its ores in preparing brass, an alloy of 
 copper and zinc. In the metallurgical proc- 
 esses it is readily sublimed by heat, and 
 when its fumes come in contact with the air 
 they arc immediately oxidized, burning with 
 a greenish white flame, and are then con- 
 verted into the white oxide of zinc — a com- 
 pound of one equivalent of the metal = ,34, 
 and one of oxygen = 8 ; which correspond 
 
 respectively to 81 and 9 per cent. These 
 fumes when collected are found to be a 
 white flocculent powder, now known as the 
 white oxide of zinc, or zinc paint. If the 
 vapor of zinc be protected from contact 
 of air and passed through pipes into water, 
 it is condensed into metallic drops, and 
 these may be melted in close vessels and 
 poured into moulds. Cast zinc is a brittle 
 metal of bluish white color and greater lus- 
 tre than that of lead. By heating it to the 
 temperature of 212° to 300" F.lt entirely 
 loses its brittleness, and is made malleable 
 and ductile, so that it can be rolled out into 
 sheets. Its melting point is 680", while 
 that of lead is G08". 
 
 A variety of ores are worked for this 
 metal ; as the sulphuret, called blende ; the 
 carbonate, called smithsonite ; and the sil- 
 icate of zinc, or calamine. The last two 
 usually occur associated together. The red 
 oxide is an important ore, but found only in 
 New Jersey. Blende almost universally ac- 
 companies galena, and in some lead mines 
 is the prevailing ore. The miners call it 
 black jack. W^hen pure, it consists of zinc 
 67, sulphur 33. Being more difficult to re- 
 duce than the other ores, it has been com- 
 paratively little used, though the Chinese 
 are known to have been successful in their 
 management of it. In the United States it 
 lies valueless in immense quantities about 
 many of the lead mines; but it is not improb- 
 able the old refuse heaps will yet be turned to 
 profit. At the zinc works near Swansea, in 
 Wales, it has been worked for many years; 
 and in England it has for a few years past 
 come into use. In 1855, it is reported that 
 9620 tons of this ore from various mines 
 were sold ; while of the calamine ores, the 
 produce of the Alston Moor mines, sales of 
 only 182 tons were reported. More ores 
 of each sort were no doubt smelted, but the 
 proportion of each was probably not very 
 different from that stated. Dr. Ure, in his 
 Dictionary, speaks of this ore selling at 
 Holywell for £3 per ton. In France there 
 are now five establishments working blende; 
 while in 1840 all the zinc consumed in the 
 country was imported. Smithsonite resem- 
 bles some yellowish or whitish limestones, 
 and usually accompanies these rocks, being 
 irregularly bedded among their strata. In 
 its best condition it is obtained in large 
 blocks of botryoidal and reniform shapes, 
 sometimes crystallized. But usually it is in 
 porous crumbly masses, much mixed and 
 
ZINC. 
 
 97 
 
 stained with reddish oxide of iron. The 
 pure ore contains 65 per cent, of oxide of 
 zinc (which is equivalent to 52 of the 
 }nctal) and 35 of carbonic acid. The sili- 
 cate of zinc is found intermixed with the 
 carbonate, whicli it resembles in appearance. 
 It contains, when pure, silica '25.1, water 
 7.5, and oxide of zinc 67.4, corresponding 
 to 54 per cent, of the mot.al. The red ox- 
 ide is found only at Mine Hill and Stirling 
 Hill, near Franklin, in the extreme north- 
 ern county of New Jersey. The pure oxide, 
 of which it is almost exclusively cojnposed, 
 contains 80.26 jier cent, of zinc and 19.74 
 of oxygen. The bright red color is probably 
 derived from the small quantity of oxide of 
 manganese present. The ore is mixed with 
 franklinite iron ore, each being in distinct 
 grains, one red and the other black ; and 
 ■with these is associated a white crystalline 
 limestone, either in disseminated grains with 
 the ores, or forming the ground through 
 which they are dispersed. Two beds, con- 
 sisting of the zinc and iron ores, lie in con- 
 tact with each other along the south-eastern 
 slope of the Stirling Hill, between the lime- 
 stone of the valley and the gneiss of the 
 ridge, dipping with the slope of these rocks 
 about 40^ toward the valley, and ranging 
 north-east and south-west. The upper bed, 
 varying from 3 to 8 feet in thickness, con- 
 sists of more than 50 per cent, red oxide 
 of zinc; and the lower bed, whicli is 12 feet 
 thick and in some places more than this, is 
 chiefly franklinite, changing to limestone be- 
 low, inter-spersed with imperfect crystals of 
 franklinite. At Mine Hill, l.J miles north- 
 east from Stirling Hill, two distinct beds are 
 again found together, tliat containing the 
 most zinc in this case being the under one 
 of the two, lying next the gneiss. These 
 localities have been well explored ; the beds 
 have been traced considerable distances 
 along their line of outcrop ; and at Stirling 
 Hill the red oxide of zinc has been mined 
 for more than ten years by the New Jersey 
 Zinc Company. Their workings have reached 
 to a depth of about 250 feet, and have af- 
 forded the finest specimens of zinc ore ever 
 seen. A single mass of the red oxide was 
 sent in 1851 to the Great Exhibition in 
 London, which weighed 16,400 lbs., and at- 
 tracted no little attention, from the purity, 
 rarity, and extraordinary size of the speci- 
 men. The Passaic Mining and Manufactur- 
 ing Company also have opened two beds of 
 the same ore on their property at Stirling 
 
 Hill, adjoining that of the New Jersey Zinc 
 Company, and between 1854 and IS 60 took 
 out about 3",000 tons of rich and le:in ores. 
 At the depth of 178 feet, the principal bed 
 is 21 feet wide, of which about 2i feet is 
 rich ore, and the rest limestone sufficiently 
 interspersed with oxide of zinc to render it. 
 worth dressing. This company coniplett-d, 
 in the year 18o9, at the mines, very extens- 
 ive works for dressing the lean ores before 
 thev are shipped to their furnaces at Jersey 
 C tv. The principal supplies of their ores 
 hitherto have lieen of the smitlisonite and 
 calamine from the mines in the Saueon val- 
 lev, Lehigh county, Pennsylvania, of which 
 ihey mined about 5,000 tons in the first 
 year. These ores are extensively worked 
 "to the north of Friedensville, both by this 
 comp.any and the Pennsylvania and Le- 
 high Zinc Company, whose furnaces are at 
 Bethlehem, in Lehigh county. The mines 
 of the two companies, which are near to- 
 gether, are known as the Saueon mine and 
 the Lehigh Zinc Company's mine. They 
 were first opened in 1853. The two kinds 
 of ore are found together, as is common in 
 the European mines, and more or less blende 
 is interspersed among them. They form 
 very largo irregular beds in limestone of the 
 lower Silurian period, and are penetrated by 
 veins of quartz, which tr.averse both the ore 
 and limestone. Huge masses of limestone 
 lie interspersed among the ores. The deep- 
 est workings at the Saueon mine are about 
 100 feet below the surface; and from this 
 depth galleries have been run in every direc- 
 tion, exposing to view more than 50,000 
 tons of ore. The ores of best quality are 
 found in the lower workings. 
 
 About the same time that these mines 
 were opened in Lehigh county, another, pro- 
 ducing similar kinds of zinc ore, was dis- 
 covered near Lancaster, in Pennsylvania; 
 but after being exploited it was found to 
 contain so much blende and galena, that it 
 was abandoned as worthless. Large de- 
 posits of the same varieties of zinc ore are 
 known to exist in Tennessee ; one locality 
 at Mossy Creek, a few miles north-east of 
 Knoxville, and another at Powell's river, a 
 branch of the Clinch river, in Campbell 
 county, about 40 miles nortli of Knoxville. 
 These beds, examined by the writer in 1858, 
 unquestionably contain very large quantities 
 of excellent ore. The former, being close to 
 the East Tennessee and Virginia railroad, 
 is very conveniently situated ; and the other 
 
98 
 
 MININU INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATEa. 
 
 is within half a mile of a river navigable at 
 certain seasons by flat-boats. Below its 
 junction with the Clinch river are beds of 
 bituminous coal, and the river is thence nav- 
 igable by steamboats. At Kingston it is 
 crossed by a railroad. 
 
 Very pure ores of similar character have 
 been found in Arkansas. The localities are 
 in a lead mining region in Lawrence, Marion, 
 and Independence counties ; but chiefly in 
 the first named. The ores occur in a forma- 
 tion of magnesian limestone, imbedded in 
 red ferruginous clay. Tiiey are almost ex- 
 clusively smithsonite, containing very small 
 proportions of silicate of zinc. Crystals of 
 smithsonite and of blende are found upon 
 the lumps of pure, flesh-colored ore. The 
 district promises to become an important one 
 for the supply of zinc to the western states. 
 
 The following are analyses of ores from 
 the Saucon valley mines ; the first three by 
 Prof John Torrey, of the New York Assay 
 Office, being of specimens, and the last two 
 of samples of large shipments. No. 4 was 
 made at the Assay Office, Hatton Gardens, 
 London ; and No. 5 in Paris. 
 
 No. 1. 
 
 Oxide of zinc 48.90 
 
 Carbonic acid 26 40 
 
 Peroxide of iron 3.15 
 
 Carbonate of magnesia 62 
 
 Silica 18.50 
 
 Water 30 
 
 Loss 2.13 
 
 10000 
 
 Metallic zinc 39.30 
 
 No. 2. — Granular Sulphuret of Zinc. 
 
 Sulpliuret of zinc 73.27 
 
 Sulphuret of iron 1.49 
 
 Silica 25.50 
 
 100.26 
 
 Metallic zinc 49.09 
 
 No. 3. — Waxy Sulphuret of Zinc. 
 
 Sulphuret of zinc 97. G3 
 
 Sulphuret of iron 1.54 
 
 Silica 1.40 
 
 100.57 
 
 Met.allic zinc 65.41 
 
 No. 4. — Mixture of Blende and Carbonate of Zinc. 
 
 Zinc 61.70 
 
 Sulphur 19.82 
 
 Iron 4.76 
 
 Silica 1.00 
 
 Carbonic acid 9.90 
 
 Phosphate of lime 88 
 
 Oxygen, water, and loss 1.94 
 
 100.00 
 Contains of silver 4.15 ozs. to the ton of 20 cwt. 
 
 No. 5. 
 
 Zinc \ f 42 
 
 O.tygen .... V Carbonate of zinc, 75.1 •< 10.5 
 
 Carbonic acid I ( 22.6 
 
 Proto.xide of iron ) ri u <• ■ m o i 7.3 
 
 r, I ■ -J > Carb. of iron, 10,2 < 
 
 Cai oonic acid . . . ) ' ( 2.9 
 
 Silica 11.8 
 
 Moisture 2.9 
 
 100.0 
 METALLURGIC TREATMENT AND USES. 
 
 Zinc ores are ajiplied to practical pur- 
 poses, not only to produce the metal, but also 
 the white oxide of zinc, which is consider- 
 ably used as a paint. The ancients used an 
 ore they called lapis calaminaris, to make 
 brass, by melting it with copper in cruci- 
 bles, not knowing that another metal was 
 thus formed which produced an alloy with 
 the copper. Although the metal was dis- 
 covered in the IGth century, the nature of 
 its ores was little known before the middle 
 of the last century. It is now prepared 
 upon a large scale in Belgium and Silesia, 
 and small quantities are produced in Eng- 
 land, France, and difierent parts of Ger- 
 many. The simple method of obtaining 
 zinc from its ores, called distillation per de- 
 scensiim, was introduced into England about 
 the year 1740, and was derived from the 
 Chinese, who appear to have been acquainted 
 with the metal long before it was known to 
 the Europeans. As now practised in Great 
 Britain, the ores are first calcined, the effect 
 of which is to expel a portion of the water, 
 carbonic acid, and sulphur they contain. 
 They are then ground to powder, and mixed 
 with fine charcoal, or mineral coal, and in- 
 troduced into stationary earthen pots, or 
 crucibles. When set in the furnace, an iron 
 pipe, passing up through the bottom of the 
 hearth, enters the crucible, and connects 
 with an open vessel directly beneath. About 
 six pots are set together under a low dome J 
 of brick-work, through which apertures are M 
 left for filling them. Each one has a cover, 
 which is luted down with fire clay ; and the 
 iron tube in each is stopped with a wooden 
 plug,which, as the operation goes on, becomes 
 charred and porous, so as to admit through it 
 the passage of the zinc vapors. The tubes 
 are prevented from being clogged with de- 
 positions of the condensed zinc, by occa- 
 sionally running a rod through them from 
 the lower end. The zinc collects in the 
 dishes under the tubes, in the form of drops 
 and powder, a portion of which is oxidized. 
 The whole is transferred to melting-pots, 
 
ZINC. 
 
 99 
 
 and the oxide which swims upon the sur- 
 face of the melted metal is skimmed off and 
 returned to the reducing crucibles, while 
 the metal is run into moulds. The ingots 
 are known in commerce as spelter. 
 
 In the United States zinc was first made 
 by Mr. John Hitz, under the direction of 
 Mr. IJassler, who, by order of Congress, 
 was engaged about the year 1838 to manu- 
 facture standard weights and measures for 
 the cus!K>m-houses. The work was done at 
 the U. S. arsenal at Washington, the ores 
 used being the red oxide of New Jersc}'. The 
 expense exceeded the value of the metal ob- 
 tained, and it has generally been supposed 
 that we could not produce spelter so che.aply 
 as it can be imported from Europe. The 
 next experiments were made at the works of 
 the New Jersey Zinc Company, 1850, on the 
 Belgian plan. In these great difficulties were 
 experienced for want of retorts of suffi- 
 ciently refractory character to withstand the 
 high temperature and the chemical action of 
 the constituents of the ore. The franklin- 
 ite, which always accompanies the red ox- 
 ide ores, was particularly injurious by rea- 
 son of the oxide of iron forming a fusible 
 silicate with the substance of the retorts 
 These trials consequently failed after the 
 expenditure of large sums of mone}'. The 
 next important trial was made in 1856, by a 
 Mr. lloofstettcr, who built a Silesian furnace 
 of 20 muffles for the Pennsylvania and Le- 
 high Zinc Company at their mine near 
 Friedensville. This proved a total failure, 
 and seemed almost to establish the impracti- 
 cability of producing spelter with the Amer- 
 ican ores, clays, and anthracite. About this 
 time Mr. Joseph Wharton, the general man- 
 ager of the Pennsylvania and Lehigh Zinc 
 Company, and Mr. Samuel Wetherill, of 
 Bethlehem, both hit upon the same plan of 
 treating zinc ores in an open furnace, and 
 leading the volatile products through incan- 
 descent coal, in order to reduce the zinc ox- 
 ide so formed, and draw only metallic and 
 carbonaceous vapors into the condensing 
 apparatus. Mr. Wharton constructed his 
 furnace in Philadelphia, and Mr. Wetherill 
 his in Bethlehem. The former having com- 
 pleted his trials, filed a caveat for the proc- 
 ess, but soon after abandoned it as econom- 
 ically impracticable. The latter continued 
 his operations, patented the method, and 
 produced some zinc, eight or ten tons of 
 which were sold to the U. S. Assay Ofiice 
 in New York. The manufacture was not, 
 
 however, long continued. In 1858, Mr. 
 Wetherill recommenced the production of 
 zinc, adopting a plan of uprirrht retorts, 
 somewhat like that in use in Carinthia, in 
 Austria, and that of the English patent of 
 James Graham. Mr. Wetherill had suc- 
 ceeded in procuring good mixtures of fire 
 clays, and his retorts made of these and 
 holding each a charge of 400 lbs. of ore, 
 proved sufficiently refractory for the opera- 
 tion. The works now under his charge at 
 Bethlehem, erected in 1858-9, and belong- 
 ing to the owners of the Saucon mine, have 
 a cap.acity of about two tons of metal daily. 
 
 Mr. Wharton, after abandoning the 
 method of reduction by incandescent coals, 
 continued his experiments on different plans, 
 and finally decided on the Belgian furnace 
 as tlie best, after having actually made spel- 
 ter fi'om silicate of zinc, with anthracite, in 
 muffles of American clays, at a cost below 
 its market value. These trials were made in 
 the zinc oxide works of the Pennsylvania 
 and Lehigh Zinc Company. Their success 
 encouraged the company to construct a fac- 
 tory at Bethlehem for reducing zinc ores, 
 and this was done under the direction of 
 Mr. Wharton in 1860. The capacity of 
 the works is about 2000 tons per annum, 
 and their actual daily product in the winter 
 of 1860-1, is over three tons. Four stacks 
 or blocks are constructed, each containing 
 four furnaces. To each furnace there are 
 jG retorts, making in all 896, working two 
 charges in twenty-four hours. Their total 
 capacity is about five tons of metal. Be- 
 sides the ordinary spelter of this manufac- 
 ture, which, as will be seen by the remarks 
 that follow, is remarkable for its freedom from 
 injurious mixtures, and is the best commer- 
 cial zinc in the world, Mr. Wharton also 
 prepares from selected ores a pure zinc 
 for the use of chemists, and for purposes in 
 which a high degree of purity is essential. 
 This is cast in ingots of about nine pounds 
 each, and is sold at the price of ten cents 
 per pound. For the supply of chemists, and 
 for the batteries employed by the telegraph 
 companies, the American zinc of this manu- 
 facture is preferred to all others. The total 
 annual consumption of crude spelter in the 
 United States amounts to the value of about 
 $600,000 ; and the value of sheet zinc, nails, 
 etc., is about as much more. 
 
 The commercial zincs, it has long been 
 known, are contaminated by various foreign 
 substances, the existence of some of which 
 
 L ofC. 
 
100 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 is indicated in the finely divided Uadi. sub- 
 stance vvhicli remains floating or sinking in 
 the liquid, when the metal is dissolved in 
 dilute acids. The impurities have been 
 stated by different chemists to consist of a 
 great variety of substances, such as lead, 
 cadmium, arsenic, tin, iron, manganese, car- 
 bon, etc. The}' injuriously affect the quality 
 of the metal for many of its uses ; and the 
 presence of one of them, arsenic, is fatal to 
 the highly important use of zinc by chemists, 
 as a reagent in the detection of arsenic in 
 other substances. Arsenic in the form of a 
 sulphuret often accompanies tlie native sul- 
 phurets of zinc, and its oxide, being volatile, 
 is readily carried over with the zinc fumes 
 in the metallurgic treatment of blende, and 
 may thus bo introduced into the spelter. It is 
 evidently, therefore, a matter of consequence 
 to know the qualities of the different zincs 
 of commerce, and the e.xact nature of the 
 impurities they contain. Very thorough in- 
 vestigations having these objects in view 
 have recentlv been made in Cambridge, 
 Massachusetts, by Messrs. Charles W. Eliot 
 and Frank II. Storer of Boston, and tlie re- 
 sults of these, with a full description of their 
 methods of examination, were communicated, 
 May 29, 1860, to the American Academy 
 of Arts and Sciences, and published in the 
 eighth volume of the new series of their 
 Memoirs. Eleven varieties of zinc from dif- 
 ferent parts of Europe, and made from the 
 ores of New Jerse_v, and of the Saucon val- 
 ley, Pennsylvania, were experimented upon, 
 of all of which large samples were at hand. 
 These varieties were the following: 1, Sile- 
 sian zinc; 2, Vieille Montague zinc; 3, New 
 Jersey zinc ; 4, Pennsylvanian zinc, Beth- 
 lehem, Pennsylvania ; 5, Vieille Montague 
 zinc, employed at the Uniteil States mint, 
 Philadelphia; 6, zinc of MM. liousscau, 
 Freres, Paris, labelled and sold as zinc pur ; 
 7, sheet zinc obtained in Berlin, I'russia; 8, 
 zinc made near Wrexham, North Wales; 9, 
 zinc from the Mines Royal, Neath, S(juth 
 Wales ; 10, zinc from the works of Dillwyn 
 & Co., Swansea, South Wales; 11, zinc 
 from the works of Messrs. Vivian, Swansea. 
 All of these, except the Pennsylvania zinc, 
 furnished an insoluble residue, which was 
 found to consist chiefly of metallic lead, and 
 this proved to be the principal impurity of 
 all the samples examined; "the carbon, tin, 
 copper, iron, arsenic, and other impurities 
 found in the metal by previous observers, 
 occur either in very minute quantities, or 
 
 rarely, and doubtless accidentally." The 
 proportions of load present in 100 parts of 
 each of the varieties examined were respect- 
 ively as follows : in No. 1, 1.46 ; 2, 0.292 ; 
 3,0.079; 4,0.000; 5,0.494; 6,0.106; 7, 
 1.297; 8,1.192; 9,0.823; 10,1.661; 11, 
 1.516. The New Jersey zinc was found to 
 contain a sensible quantity of tin, copper 
 amounting to 0.1298 per cent., iron 0.2088 
 per cent., and an unusually large amount of 
 arsenic. Traces of this were also detected 
 in the wdiite oxide prepared from the ores 
 of the New Jer:3ey mines, and in the red 
 oxide ore itself; but the same ore aftbrded 
 no clue as to the source whence the copper 
 was derived, a metal of which not the slight- 
 est traces were discoverable in the other 
 zincs. None of the samples contained suf- 
 ficient arsenic to admit of its proportion be- 
 ing determined, and some were entirely free 
 from it, as some of the Belgian and Pennsyl- 
 vania spelter, but traces of it were mot with 
 in other samples from the same regions, in- 
 dicating that the occasional use of inferior 
 ores, such as blende, intermixed with the 
 carbonates and silicates, might introduce 
 this substance, or possibly it might come 
 over only in tlie first part of the distillation, 
 and the zinc collected in the latter part 
 might be quite free from it. The Silesian 
 zinc contained minute (luantities of sulphur 
 and arsenic ; and the English zinc more ar- 
 senic than any other, except perhaps the 
 New Jersey. The purest of all the samples 
 was that from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, 
 some of it yielding no impurity, except a 
 trace of cadmium. The source of a trace 
 of arsenic in another sample is supposed to 
 bo in the use of the crust of oxide of zinc 
 from the operations connected with the 
 manufacture of white oxide of zinc, no par- 
 ticular care being taken in that process to 
 reject inferior ores, and this crust being 
 taken to the other works where the metal is 
 prepared and mi.xcd with the selected ores 
 employed for this use, it has thus introduced 
 the arsenic. As the authors of the paper 
 remark, there seems to be no reason why 
 zinc of uniform purity should not bo ob- 
 tained from the excellent ores of the Saucoa 
 valley mines. 
 
 EUROPEAN MANUFACTURE. 
 
 A large portion of the zinc of commerce 
 is furnished by the works of the Vieille 
 Montague Company, established near the 
 frontier of Belgium and Prussia, chiefly in 
 
101 
 
 the province of Liege of the former country. 
 A large number of mines are worked in this 
 region, the most important of which is that 
 of the Vieille Montagne or Altcnberg, sit- 
 uated in the village of Moresnet, between 
 Aix-la-Chapelle and the town of Liege. It 
 is said that the great body of carbonate of 
 zinc found here was worked as long ago as 
 the year 1435, and that for four centuries it 
 was not known that the ore was of metallic 
 character, but it was used as a peculiar earth 
 adapted for converting copper into brass. 
 The ore lies in a basin-like depression in 
 strata of magnesian limestone, and is much 
 mixed with beds of clay intercalated among 
 its layers. The ore is chiefly carbonate 
 mixed with the silicate and oxide of zinc. 
 Some of it is red, from the oxide of iron in- 
 termixed, and this produces only about 3.3 
 per cent, of metal. The purer white ore 
 yields about 46 per cent., and is moreover 
 much preferred on account of its working 
 better in the retorts. The furnaces em- 
 ployed in the distillation of these ores are 
 constructed upon a very large scale, and on 
 a ditferent plan from those in use in Great 
 Britain. The general character of the oper- 
 ations, however, is the same. The ores are 
 first calcined, losing about one fifth of their 
 weight. They are then ground in mills, and 
 charges are made up of 1100 lbs. of the 
 powdered ore mixed with 550 lbs. of fine 
 coal. The mixture being well moistened 
 with water, is introduced into cylindrical re- 
 torts, which are three feet 8 inches long 
 and 6 inches diameter inside, set inclining 
 outward, to the number of 42 in a single 
 furnace, and 4 suoli furnaces are construrted 
 in one stack. The open end of each retort 
 connects, by means of an iron adapter 16 
 inches long, with a wrought-iron cone, the 
 little end of which, projecting out from the 
 furnace, is only an inch in diameter. After 
 the charges have been sufficiently heated, 
 the sublimed zinc condenses in tlie neck of 
 the retort and in the adapter and cone. The 
 last two are then removed, and the zinc and 
 oxide are collected from them, and the liq- 
 uid metal in the neck of the retorts is 
 drawn out and caught in a large ladle, from 
 which it is poured into moulds. The zinc 
 thus obtained is remelted before it is rolled. 
 Two charges are run through in twenty-four 
 hours, each furnace producing from 2200 lbs. 
 of ore about 620 lbs. of metal, which is 
 about 30 per cent. From a late report of 
 these operations it appears that there are 
 
 seven large smelting establishments belong- 
 ing to the Vieille Montagne Zinc Mining 
 Company, on the borders of Belgium and 
 Prussia, comprising 230 furnaces. The an- 
 nual product of these is 29,000 tons of spel- 
 ter, of which 23,000 tons are converted into 
 sheet zinc, and about 7000 tons are rolled at 
 mills not the property of the companv. They 
 also manufacture oxide of zinc in three es- 
 tablishments devoted to this operation, to 
 the amount of about 6000 tons annually. The 
 company also purchases spelter very larg-ely. 
 The metallurgy of zinc has, within a few 
 3'ears past, become an important branch of 
 industry in Upper Silesia on the borders of 
 Poland, and not far from Cracow. In 1 857 
 there were no less than 47 zinc works in this 
 part of Prussia, one of which, named Lydog- 
 niahiitte, at Konigshiitte, belonged to the 
 government, and the remainder were owned 
 by private companies and individuals. In 
 that year their total production was 31,480 
 tons of spelter, valued at about 17,660,000 
 francs. Many of the establishments belong 
 to the Silesian Company, which also owns 
 several coal mines near their works, and a 
 number of zinc mines. The government 
 works are supplied with ores from their own 
 mines, and also from all the others, being 
 entitled to one twentieth of their product. 
 From a description of the operations pub- 
 lished in the sixteentli volume of the Aiii,alis 
 dis Mines, fifth series, 1859, it appears that 
 the processes are the same which had been 
 emploved for full twenty years previouslv, 
 and each establishment presents little else 
 than a repetition of the works of the others. 
 The furnace in use is a double stack, fur- 
 nished along each side with horizontal ovens, 
 into each of which three muffles or retorts 
 are introduced. These are constructed of 
 refractory fire clays, and are charged, like 
 the retorts of gas furnaces, by conveying the 
 material upon a long charger or spoon into 
 the interior. Their dimensions are about 4 
 feet long, 22 inches high, and 84 inches wide, 
 and the weight of the charge introduced is 
 only about 55 pounds. The ovens on each 
 side of the stacks contain as many as 2U and 
 sometimes 30 retorts. The same stack con- 
 tains besides, 1st, an oven in which the ores 
 belonging to it are roasted for expelling the 
 water and a portion of the carbonic acid they 
 contain (a process in which they lose about 
 i their weight) ; 2d, an oven for baking the 
 retorts, each establishment making its own ; 
 and 3d, a furnace for remelting and purifying 
 
102 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 the zinc obtained from, tlie retorts. Several 
 stacks are arranged in a large building with 
 close walls and open along the top of the 
 roof to allow the smoke to escape. On one 
 side, ciinnectcd with it, are the workshops 
 in which the muffles are made and various 
 other operations are carried on. 
 
 The principal zinc mines are in the vicin- 
 ity of Licuthen, and are f lund in the magne- 
 sian limestones of tlie new red sandstone 
 f»rmation. They are connected with the 
 zinc works, which are principally near Ko- 
 nigshlittc, by branch railroads connecting 
 with the principal line of road between 
 Tarnowitz and Kattowitz. The ores are 
 chiefly carbonates, always mixed with much 
 oxide of iron, which is sometimes present to 
 the extent of 20 per cent., and with them is 
 also associated more or less silicate of zinc, 
 blende, galena, and cadmium. Their per- 
 centage of zinc is very variable, rarely reach- 
 ing 35, and probably averaging 21 or 22 per 
 cent. Much that is worked does not exceed 
 12 per cent. They lie in irregular deposits, 
 and it is found that their yield of zinc has 
 been gradually falling oil', so that it is now 
 only about two fifths of what it was formerly. 
 This low yield involves a large consumption 
 of fuel, which is 20 tons for one of zinc ob- 
 tained ; and if this deterioration continues, 
 the mines must some time hence be aban- 
 doned. The coal employed in working the 
 ores is of poor quality, burning without 
 flame ; but it leaves no cinder, and is pro- 
 cured from mines very near the works, and 
 at the extraordinary low price of 6 to 7 
 francs the lUOO kilogrammes (about one ton). 
 The retorts are charged every 24 hours with 
 roasted ore reduced to the size of nuts, and 
 
 mixed with oxide of zinc from previous op- 
 erations, with the dross from the crucible 
 employed in remelting, with the incrustations 
 from the muffles and their connections out- 
 side the furnaces, and in fine with cinders 
 that liave fallen through the grates, these last 
 making about J the bulk of the charge. 
 The workmen having discharged a muffle of 
 the liquid zinc and oxide remaining from the 
 previous operation by draw ing them forward, 
 so that they fall upon an iron shelf placed 
 below to catch them, and having repaired 
 any cracks and holes in the muffle, they in- 
 troduce the new charge in small portions at a 
 time, and immediately adjust the outer con- 
 nection, which is also of earthenware bent 
 down at a right angle, and close up the 
 openings in front. The zinc soon begins to 
 distil over, and drops down upon the iron 
 shelf, forming pieces of all shapes ; and it is 
 more or less mixed with oxide colored yel- 
 low by the oxide of cadmium. When re- 
 melted and run into moulds, the spelter is 
 ^tated to have about the following composi- 
 tion : zinc, 97.50, cadmium, 1.00, lead, 0.20, 
 arsenic, 0.84, sulphur, 0.05, together with 
 traces of tin, iron, and carbon ; but the char- 
 acter and proportion of the impurities are 
 probably very variable. The expenses of 
 the manufacture at the royal works amount- 
 ed for the year 1856 to 48.00 francs the 
 metrical quintal (220.4T lbs.), and in 1858 
 to 54.84 francs ; consisting in the latter 
 year of the following items : ore, 26.84 ; 
 fuel, 14.30; labor, 7.00; materials employ- 
 ed. 3.70 ; general expenses, 3.00. The oper- 
 ations of the Silesian Company at their 
 several works for the first half of the year 
 1858 are thus presented : — 
 
 COST OF THE SEVERAL ITEMS PER 
 
 Zinc 
 
 Name of Worlcs. Ores treated, obtained. 
 
 Met. quint. Met. quint. 
 
 Gabor Silesia 112,^99 19,703 
 
 PauLsliiitte 40,'iS4 4,928 
 
 Tliurzoliiitte 37,458 4,495 
 
 Frieaunsliiitte 15,345 2,346 
 
 Slanisla.sliutte 40.534 3,978 
 
 Carlsliiitte 45,918 5,723 
 
 292,438 41,173 
 
 The general consumption of spelter 
 throughout the world is estimated in the 
 report to which we have already referred, re- 
 lating to the Vieille Montague Company, 
 to be about 67,000 tons, of which about 
 44,000 tons are sheet zinc applied as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 METRICAL 
 
 QUINTAL 
 
 or, PRODUCT. 
 
 
 (n.^t of 
 
 
 
 Sundry 
 
 
 lalHir. 
 
 Fuel. 
 
 Ores. 
 
 expi-nsea. 
 
 Totjil cost. 
 
 Friines. 
 
 Fn\ncs. 
 
 Francs. 
 
 Frnnes. 
 
 Fianes. 
 
 4. IIS 
 
 10.35 
 
 11.40 
 
 4.27 
 
 31.00 
 
 7.10 
 
 14 69 
 
 14.24 
 
 4.77 
 
 40 80 
 
 7.57 
 
 12 08 
 
 12.92 
 
 4.90 
 
 37.47 
 
 5.9G 
 
 10.66 
 
 13.98 
 
 4.62 
 
 35.22 
 
 8.83 
 
 16.18 
 
 15.66 
 
 6.23 
 
 46.90 
 
 15.06 
 
 14.80 
 
 13.23 
 
 6.91 
 
 41.00 
 
 Tons. 
 
 For roofing and architectural purposes 23,000 
 
 " sheathing of ships 3,500 
 
 " lining packing cases 2,500 
 
 " domestic utensils 12,000 
 
 " stamped ornaments 1,500 
 
 " miscellaneous uses 1,500 
 
 44,000 
 
103 
 
 Tlie estimate of 67,000 tons as the total 
 annual production of zinc is probal)ly too 
 small for Europe alone. Taking the product 
 above given of the works of the Vieille Mon- 
 tague Company, viz., 1^9,000 ton?, and that 
 of the Silesian furnaces, 31,480 tons, there 
 remain only 6,520 tons to be divided among 
 the other zinc-producing countries. These 
 arc Poland, on the borders of Silesia, the 
 annual production of which is usually given 
 as 4000 tons ; England, whicli has rapidly 
 advanced from 1000 tons of spelter per an- 
 num to 6900 tons in 1 S5S ; Austria, which 
 produces 1500 tons; Sweden, 40tons; and the 
 Hartz 10 tons. Zinc, it is believed, is also 
 manufactured to some extent in Spain. The 
 European production would, therefore, seem 
 to exceed 73,000 tons, and for the total 
 production of the world, that of the United 
 States and of China should be added. Of 
 the extent of the manufacture of the latter 
 country we know nothing. The United 
 States p'-oduccs of oxide of zinc and spelter 
 over 7 'lOO ton'.nnd itnnort^l "2.000, annually. 
 
 The value of the ores at ditTerent costs of 
 the metal is given in the following recently 
 prepared table from one of the European 
 houses : — • 
 
 SCHEDULE OF THE COST OF ZINC ORE ON SHIPBOARD AT 
 
 ANTWEKP. 
 
 CARBONATE OF ZINC. 
 
 «, ♦„! „ ...I, KA f „ ,1 „ Met.nl wfirth Metal worth 60 
 
 Metal worth M fmncs the . , ,. ^ - . , ^^ 
 
 100 k,logra,„.nes. ki,„gr.anunes. kil...-.-,mimes. 
 
 Percentase V;ilne of 100 Value of 100 Value of 100 
 
 of zinc by kilniTatnines. kilosranimes. kilosrnnimes. 
 
 •calvsis. Francs. Francs. Francs. 
 
 ib SO 00 94.50 lli;i 00 
 
 45 lO'i.SO llO.aO IMU.oO 
 
 50 1-J5.00 144.50 10400 
 
 55 147.50 1G0.50 Ifll.oO 
 
 60 no.no 194, 50 210,00 
 
 65 192.50 219.50 24G.50 
 
 ■JO 215.00 244.50 '274.00 
 
 SILICATE OF ZINC. 
 
 40 45.00 57.00 69.00 
 
 45 67.50 82.00 9G.50 
 
 50 90.00 107.00 124,00 
 
 55 112.50 132.00 151.50 
 
 60 135.00 157.00 179.00 
 
 65 157 50 182.00 206.50 
 
 70 180.00 207.00 234 00 
 
 A kilogramme is equivalent to 2205 lbs 
 avoirdupois. 
 
 Twentv-live years ago the qiiiintity of zinc 
 used for rooting did not exceed 5,000 tons 
 per annum, and no zinc was employed for 
 sheathing ships, or lining packing cases. 
 The stamped ornaments in this metal only 
 came into use in 1852. In Germany zinc is 
 now very generally used for roofing ; and in 
 Paris it has been employed for nearly every 
 
 roof constructed during the last twenty-five 
 years. In laying the sheets great care is 
 taken that the metal has sufficient room to 
 expand and contract by change of tempera- 
 ture ; and especially ihat it is fastened with 
 zinc nails, and is allowed to come nowhere 
 in contact with iron— even with nail heads. 
 The purer the metal the longer it lasts. 
 
 Besides the uses named for this met.al, it 
 is em;iloyed for coating sheet iron, making 
 what is called galvanized iron ; for pipes for 
 conveying liquids: for baths, water-tanks, 
 mi'.k-pans and pails, plates for engraving ; 
 for galvanic batteries ; for nails, spikes, and 
 wire; for signs ; music printing; and for the 
 cornices of buildings. It has also been cast 
 into statues, in imitation of bronze. The 
 Vieille Montague Company sent to the Great 
 Exhib tiou in London a statue of Queen Vic- 
 toria, which with its pedestal of zinc was 
 twenty-one feel high. By a process some- 
 what like lithography, called Zincography, 
 drawings, old engravings, and autograph let- 
 ters are transferred to it, and afer treatment 
 with acids, printed from a raised surface. A 
 ui.diticationof this process called Photozinc- 
 o_n-ai)hy, accom|ilishes the difficult ta-k of 
 printing fVom a photograph. Zinc is also an 
 important reagent in chemic-d operations, 
 and is employed with sulphuric acid to de- 
 compose \vat«r for obtaining hydrogen gas. 
 
 ZIXC PAINT. 
 
 White oxide of zinc was first recom- 
 mended as a substitute for white lead by 
 the celebrated Guyton de Morveau about 
 the close of the last century, during his in- 
 vestigations on the subject of lead poison- 
 ing ; and to him it was suggested by Cour- 
 tois, a manufacturer at Dijon. The liigh 
 price of zinc at that time, and ignorance 
 respecting the proper manner of using the 
 oxide of zinc, prevented its introduction. 
 It was many years after this that methods of 
 producing it as cheaply as white lead were 
 devised by M. Leclaire, a house-painter of 
 Paris ; and he also first prepared to use with 
 it a scries of yellow and green unchangeable 
 colors, to replace those before in use having 
 noxious bases of lead, copper, or arsenic ; 
 and also a drying oil, prepared by boiling 
 linseed oil with about five per cent, of oxide 
 of manganese. His process, which is still 
 the one in general use in Europe, is based 
 
 I on the treatment of the metal instead of the 
 ore, as practised in this country, and scarcely 
 
 I any white oxide of zinc is there made by 
 
104 
 
 MINING IXOrSTRV OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 any other method. The furnaces employed 
 are similar to tliose for producing the metal, 
 or like those of the gas works. When the 
 retorts set in these furnaces have become 
 very hot, they are charged witli the ingots 
 of zinc. The metal soon melts, and its 
 vapor passes off through the outlets of the 
 retorts, where it meets a current of air, and 
 'both together are drawn on through the 
 condensing apparatus either by the drauglit 
 of a chimney, or by an exhausting fan at the 
 further extremity of the apparatus. The 
 metallic vapors become oxidized by mixing 
 with the air, and are converted into a light, 
 flaky, white powder, which is the oxide of 
 zinc. The arrangements for condensing 
 and collecting this are similar in principle 
 to those employed for the same ])urj)uses in 
 the American process. By making use of 
 the metal in retorts, instead of subliming it 
 from ores contaminated with their own im- 
 purities, and mixed with the coal required 
 for conducting the process, a much purer 
 oxide of zinc is obtained ; and by selecting 
 the purest sorts of spelter, the beautiful 
 article, called by the French blanc dc iieiije, 
 or " snow-white," is produced, which is 
 employed by painters in the place of the 
 " silver-white." With the use of other zinc, 
 the product is fit to be substituted for the 
 best white lead. JJut if the metal has been 
 made from ores containing cadmium or iron, 
 or if old zinc has been introduced to which 
 any solder adheres, according to the French 
 chemists oxides of other metals are pro- 
 duced, and are taken up in small quantities 
 with the zinc vapors, imparting to the oxide 
 a slightly yellow or greenisli tint, which if 
 not very decided may liowevcr disappear 
 when the paint is mixed ; but the expe 
 rience of American manufacturers does not 
 accord with tliis explanaticm. 
 
 The manufacture of white oxide of zinc 
 direct from the ore is a purely American 
 process, established by the experiments of 
 Mr. Richard Jones of rhiladelphia in the 
 year 1850. The great bodies of the rich 
 ores of northern New Jersey had at various 
 times, for the past two centuries, attracted 
 the attention of many persons interested in 
 metallurgical operations ; and of late years 
 numerous attempts had been made to devise 
 some method of converting them to useful 
 purposes. Zinc, however, was a metal not 
 much in demand, and nothing was known 
 of the useful qualities of the white oxide. 
 When tlie value of this had been demon- 
 
 strated in Europe, and the practicability of 
 producing it economically from the red 
 oxide was shown, a company was organized 
 in New York under the name of the New 
 Jersey Zinc Companj", for the purpose of 
 carrying on this manufacture up<in a large 
 scale. This association was incorporated by 
 the Legislature of New Jersey, February 
 15, 1849, and the report of their operations, 
 made December 31, 1853, by their presi- 
 dent, C. E. Detmold, Esq., showed a pro- 
 duction, for 1852, of 2,425,506 lbs. of oxide; 
 and for 1853, of 4,043,415 lbs.; and the 
 total production for 10 years, ending with 
 18(i0, has amounted to above 19,500 tons. 
 Their works were established at Newark, N. 
 J., to which place the ores are brought by 
 the Morris and Essex canal ; and the an- 
 thracite consumed in the manufacture is 
 also delivered by water transportation. The 
 company has forty furnaces, that may be 
 kept in constant operation. The character 
 of the process is like that which will be 
 given below, as conducted by the Passaic 
 Mining and Manufacturing Company. 
 
 The success of the enterprise of the New 
 Jersey Zinc Company, and the discovery in 
 1853 of the great beds of silicate and car- 
 bonate of zinc in the Saucon valley, Penn- 
 sylvania, led to the organization in that year 
 of the Pennsylvania and Lehigh Zinc Corn- 
 pan}', and the erection of furnaces for mak- 
 ing the oxide at Bethlehem, on the Leliigh 
 river. The operations were conducted by 
 Samuel Wetherill, Esq., b}' a patented piroc- 
 css of his own invention, and at a contract 
 price of $50 per ton ; the ore being deliv- 
 e.ed by the company at the works for Sl-oO 
 ])er ton. About four tons were consumed to 
 the ton of oxide. The company mined up 
 to January, 18C0, about 00,000 tons of ore, 
 and at that time, were manufacturing about 
 3"_'0,000 1I)S. of oxide of zinc per month. 
 
 A third company was established in 18.")5, 
 called the Passaic Mining and Manufactur- 
 ing Comp.any, and their works, constructed 
 at Connuunipaw, on tlie Morris canal mar 
 Jersey City, went into operation in June of 
 that year. They obtained their ores both 
 t'rom the mines of red oxide in Sussex 
 ct)unty, and from the Saucon valley mines in 
 Pennsylvania. They employed 24 furnaces, 
 built in 3 stacks, of 8 each, in which they 
 were arranged like ovens, half of them open- 
 ing on one side and half on the opposite 
 side. Each one was about 6 feet in depth 
 (from front to back), 4 feet in width, and 
 
ZINC. 
 
 105 
 
 about 3^ feet in height. The roof was arch- 
 ed, with an opening through it for the pipe 
 which conveyed away the vapor and products 
 of combustion. The sole was formed of cast- 
 iron plates, which were perforated full of small 
 holes for admitting the blast to penetrate 
 every portion of the charge, as the wind was 
 driven by two large fan-blowers into the re- 
 ceptacle under the furnace corresponding to 
 the ash-pit. The ores were prepared by lirst 
 crushing them to powder, wliicli was done by 
 passing them through two pairs of Cornish 
 rolls, and then mixing them thoroughly with 
 about half their weight of tiie dust of anthra- 
 cite. A Are was kindled upon the grate-bars 
 of 250 lbs. of pea coal, and when ignited to 
 full whiteness the charge of 600 lbs. of ore, 
 mixed with 300 of coal dust, was added, and 
 when exhausted the charge was withdrawn, 
 leaving only suiTicient coal to ignite the next 
 charge, thus working off 4 charges in every 
 24 hours. The proportion of oxide obtained 
 from the ore was variable, as the charge was 
 not of uniform quality ; but it was usually 
 between 30 and 40 per cent. As the coal 
 rapidly consumed from the effect of the blast, 
 the ores were decomposed, and metallic zinc 
 sublimed. The vapor rose with the gaseous 
 products of combustion, and all were carried 
 up the pipe, which just above the roof of 
 the stack terminate under an inverted fun- 
 nel, the base of which covered the lower pipe 
 like a hood, and the upper portion was a 
 pipe like tiiat below. A strong current of 
 air was created by two exhausting fan- 
 blowers, at the other extremity of the ap- 
 paratus, and the vapors were drawn up to- 
 gether with much air which flowed in around 
 the open base of the funnel, and caused at 
 this point a vivid combustion of the zinc 
 vapors, which burned with a j)ale blue flame, 
 and were thus converted into oxide. The 
 appearance presented by this combustion 
 actively going on in full view under each 
 hood was very striking, and was far from 
 suggesting to an observer unacquainted with 
 the process, the possibility tiiat from the 
 pale flames rushing up the pipes any valua- 
 ble product could be recovered. The pipes 
 connected above with a cylindrical sheet-iron 
 receiver that extended over the three stacks, 
 so as to secure the products of all the fur- 
 naces. It was a huge pijjc, C.| feet in diam- 
 eter, and 130 feet long, and passed along 
 under the roof, against a line of windows on 
 .each side, through which air was admitted 
 for hastening the cooling of the products. 
 
 The pipe discharged into a square tower in 
 masonry, and in this the particles were 
 washed and cooled by a continual falling 
 sheet of water. The light flocculent oxide 
 of zinc was not carried down bj* this to any 
 great extent, but was drawn on by the ex- 
 haust through 3 large pipes to a second tower 
 with three divisions, in which the fens were, 
 placed that created the draught. From this 
 the current, still propelled by the fans, moved 
 on through other pipes that connected with 
 the system of flannel bags, which in great 
 numbers, and of extraordinary sizes, were sus- 
 pended throughout the portion of the build- 
 ing devoted to the final cooling of the oxide, 
 and filtering it from the gaseous matters inter- 
 mixed. Some of the bags extended the whole 
 length of the rooms, which were 120 feet 
 long by 64 wide, and the diameter of the larg- 
 est of them was over 4 feet. They were ar- 
 ranged near together, and some were carried 
 vertically from the horizontal ones up to the 
 roof Through the pores of the flannel the 
 gases escaped, and the oxide of zinc remained 
 thoroughly purified. Nearly 200,000 square 
 feet of flannel were worked into these bags ; 
 and one person was almost constantly em- 
 ployed with a sewing machine, and two others 
 working by hand, in making and repairing 
 them. Along the under side of the horizontal 
 bags pipes of cotton cloth, ten or twelve inches 
 in diameter, reached down nearly to the floor, 
 and were kept tied around their lower ends. 
 These were called the teats ; and the oxide of 
 zinc was collected by lifting up the portions 
 of the bags where it had settled, and shaking 
 the.-e so as to make it fall into the teats. The 
 ends of these were then opened, and the 
 white zinc was received in strong bags, 
 which being tied up were laid upon a truck, 
 and this was run by steam power back and 
 forth under a compressing roller. The air 
 dispersed through it, rendering it so light 
 and bulky, was thus expelled, and the oxide 
 was converted into a dense, heavy powder. 
 The last process was to grind this with 
 bleached linseed oil, which was done in the 
 ordinary paint mills. The paint was then 
 transferred into small kegs for the market. 
 
 The residuum of the furnace charge, when 
 of red oxide, consisted of some unsublimed 
 zinc ore mixed with franklinite and more or 
 less unconsumed coal. It w'as raked out in 
 the form of slags, and accumulated in immense 
 piles about the works. In 1853, Mr. Detmold 
 succeeded in using this as an iron ore, and pro- 
 duced excellent iron which proved to be also 
 
106 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 well adapted for the manufacture of steel. 
 The iron manufacture has been continued, and 
 lias become a profitable branch of the opera- 
 tions of the United States Zinc Company, pro- 
 ducing about 20i'0 tons of zinc per annum. 
 The franklinite itself had been used a year ear- 
 lier for the same purposes by Mr. Edwin Post, 
 at i^tanhope, and from this he obtained both 
 iron and steel ; but when the manufacture 
 was undertaken upon a large scale by the 
 New Jersey Franklinite Company, at Frank- 
 lin, New Jersey, it proved unsuccessful in 
 practice. 
 
 The product of the zinc works of the Pas- 
 saic Company for the year 1856, was 2,327,- 
 9-0 lbs. of oxide of zinc; and the monthly 
 piotlu('ton for the year 18G0 was about 
 40(MH)U lbs. from IG furnaces. With the "^4 
 in blast their monthly capacity was from 2S0 
 to 300 tons of 2 000 lbs. to the ton. The 
 total annual product of the three establish- 
 ments was from GOdO to 7000 tons of oxide. 
 For a few years the zinc paints were jiopu- 
 lar, and made considerable inroads upon the 
 market for white lead ; but the general ver- 
 dict of intelligent and skilful painters i? that 
 they are inferior to the lead both in bo<ly 
 and permanency, and their sale has fallen oli' 
 at least nine-tenths since 186J. 
 
 The rale of the importations of zinc, spelter 
 and manufactures of zinc, wiih the re-exports 
 of the same from 1859 to 1»70, both in- 
 clusive, were : 
 
 Importeil. Re-exported. 
 
 18."i9 Sl,3.'!3,112 814,912 
 
 1860 80t,.353 2|->,.-)S3 
 
 ISGl .5911,280 19,100 
 
 1862 254,033 .'•63 
 
 1863 518,149 '',681 
 
 1864 675,931 3,973 
 
 1865 .'(51,876 47,790 
 
 1866 1,149,>-!I5 38,108 
 
 1867 56-J,902 3,174 
 
 1868 561,633 18,028 
 
 ls69 1,197,682 4,022 
 
 1870 1,003,432 833 
 
 The importance of the application of white 
 zinc to painting in the place of white lead 
 appears to have been much more fiillv appre- 
 ciated in France and the United States than in 
 Great Britain. Soon after the discoveries of 
 Lcclaire that white oxide of zinc could be 
 thus used, and produce, with the colored 
 bases he prepared of this and other iiniocu- 
 ous oxides, all the tints required, the French 
 gnvernment, recognizing the importance of 
 his inventions, conferred upon him the cross 
 of the Legion of Honor, and ailopted the 
 paints for the public building.s. By the year 
 
 1849, over 6000 public and private build- 
 ings had been painted with ids prepara- 
 tions, and the testimony was very strong in 
 their favor. Not one of his workmen had 
 been attacked by the painter's colic, though 
 previously a dozen or more suffered every 
 3'ear from it. The colors were pronounced 
 more solid and durable than the old, were 
 made brighter by washing, and were not tar- 
 nished by sulphuretted hydrogen, as occurs 
 to white lead. The best white paint was 
 moreover so pure and brilliant a white, that 
 it made the best white lead paint by its side 
 look disagreeably yellow and gray. No dif- 
 ficulty was experienced in making the new 
 colors, mixed with the prepared oil, dry 
 rapidly without the use of the ordinary dryers 
 of lead compound ; and used in equal weight 
 with le.ad, the zinc was found to cover bet- 
 ter, and was, consequently, more economical 
 at equal prices per lb. The English, how- 
 ever, fountl many objectionable qualities in 
 the new paint. Its transparency, which is 
 the cause of its brilliancy, by reflecting in- 
 stead of absorbing the light, was regarded as 
 a defect, and the painters complained that it 
 had not the body or covering properties of 
 the carbonate of lead. It would not dry 
 rapidly for the second coat without the use 
 of the p.atent dryers, which contain lead, and 
 therefore it was no better than the lead. 
 Messrs. Coates & Co., who now import into 
 Great Britain about 1000 tons of oxide of 
 zinc per annum, wrote to the editor of the 
 Lancet in March, 1 860, that the consumption 
 of white lead is still nearly 100 to 1 of white 
 zinc, and tliat in 1856 the importation of the 
 latter amounted to only 235 tons. They as- 
 cribe the real cause of tiie larger consumption 
 of white lead, to the almost entire exclusion of 
 zinc, to the fact, that white lead can be adul- 
 terated with b;irvtes and f)ther cheap ingre- 
 dients without the adulteration beingdetected 
 by the eye, thus securing large profits to the 
 manufacturer and contractor, which cannot 
 be realized in the use of zinc paint, for the 
 reason that it has little afiinity for foreign sub- 
 stances. The experience of the manufacturers 
 of the United States docs not substantiate 
 this statement as to the difficulty of using the 
 oxide of zinc in mixture with other substances. 
 It is etnploye<l not only alone, but mixed 
 with either barytes or white lead, or with 
 both of them; and large quantities are thus 
 sold and give satisfaction to consumer.s, who 
 would reject the paint, if they supposed it to 
 be any thing else than white lead. As to its 
 
PLATINUSt 
 
 101 
 
 covering quality, it is found that the oxide of 
 zinc varies according to the manner in which 
 it has been prepared. The light flocculent 
 oxide mixes readily with oil without grinding; 
 but though pressed, it covers much less sur- 
 face than the same oxide moulded when mois- 
 tened with water, and dried by artificial heat. 
 This preparation also causes any yellowish or 
 greenish tints to disappear, and the article 
 may be supplied to the consumer in cakes, 
 ■which when ground with oil will cover more 
 surface than the same weight of white lead. 
 The body of the white zinc may be still fur- 
 ther improved by calcination before grinding. 
 
 The inferior colored sorts of oxide of zinc, 
 such as are collected in the iron receivers 
 near the furnaces, and that made from the 
 pulverized ores of zinc, have been largely 
 employed for painting iron surfaces, espec- 
 ially on board of ships, the paint being found 
 to possess a peculiar quality of protecting 
 the iron it covers from rusting. 
 
 Besides its use as a paint, oxide of zinc is 
 applied to the preparation of the mastic for 
 rendering metallic joints tight ; and to that of 
 glazed papers and cards, for which white lead 
 and carbonate of barytes have heretofore 
 been used. The French use it in preparing 
 the paste for artificial crystals instead of 
 oxide of lead or other metallic oxides; and 
 they have also made with it some of the 
 finest sorts of cut glass and especially lenses. 
 In the Great Exhibition of 1851, an award 
 was made to specimens of zinc glass which 
 presented a very pleasing and white appear- 
 ance, and were regarded as especially suited 
 to achromatic purposes. It was remarkable 
 for its being purer and more pellucid than 
 lead glass, and also of greater specific gravity. 
 
 A patent has been granted in the United 
 States for the manufacture of flint glass with 
 oxide of zinc, and specimens of glass were 
 produced with it in 1800, which were re- 
 markable for tlieir brilliancy and beautiful 
 surface, or " skin," as it is called. The glass 
 is more infusible than that made with oxide 
 of lead, and there seems to be no good rea- 
 son to prevent it coming rapidly into use. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 PLATINUM. 
 
 ALTHOUon this metal is not obtained in 
 large quantity in the United States, it is 
 found associated with the gold in many lo- 
 
 7 * 
 
 calities in California and Oregon, and has 
 been detected in Rutlierford county, North 
 Carolina, and in traces in the lead and cop- 
 per ores of Lancaster county, I'ennsylvania. 
 From the states on the Pacific it has been 
 supposed that it would yet be afforded as a 
 commercial article. It is a metal of consid- 
 erable interest from the extent to which it is 
 used in the United States, and the success 
 that has attended the attempts to work it in 
 Pliiladelphia and New York. The metal is 
 supplied to commerce from no certain source, 
 and finds its way into the United States in 
 a great variety of forms, as in native grains 
 found in washing the gold deposits of Cauca 
 on the western coast of South America, of 
 Brazil, and Oregon, and in manufactured ar- 
 ticles imported from Europe and chiefly 
 from France. Russia produced between the 
 years 1824 and 1845 many times as much 
 platinum as all the rest of the world, and 
 introduced the metal into her coinage ; but 
 after 1845 it was no longer coined, and the 
 yield of the deposits in the Ural has dwin- 
 dled away to almost nothing. The supply 
 from Borneo has been very largo for some 
 years, the whole product of the island some- 
 times amounting to 600 lbs. a year. It is 
 found in small grains and lumps in the 
 sands that are washed for gold ; and pieces 
 of several pounds have been met with in Si- 
 beria, the largest weighing over 22 lbs. troy. 
 The properties wliich give to the metal its 
 great value, as its power of resisting the ef- 
 fects of heat and many of the most powerful 
 chemical agents, also render it exceedingly 
 difficult to work and to convert into useful 
 shapes. The crude grains are generally al- 
 loyed to the amount of about 20 per cent, of 
 their weight with the very refractory metal 
 iridium, with osmium, rhodium, iron, and 
 sometimes other metals also. It is separated 
 from the chief part of these and purified by 
 dissolving the grains in aqua rcr/ia, a mixture 
 of nitric and hydrochloric acid, and causing 
 the metal to be precipitated by sal-ammoniac. 
 It falls in a yellowish powder, which is a 
 compound of platinum, ammonia, and chlo- 
 rine. To decompose this the compound is 
 separated from the liquid, and being well 
 washed and dried, is heated red hot in a cast- 
 iron crucible. This drives off the ammonia 
 and chlorine, and the platinum remains in 
 the crucible in a spongy condition. This is 
 condensed into solid metal by repeated 
 heatings and hammerings. It has always 
 been a matter of great difficulty to raise 
 
PLATINUM. 
 
 109 
 
 sufBcient heat to soften the platinum, even in 
 quantities less than an ounce, so that it could 
 be worked under the hammer. It used for- 
 merly to be brought into a metallic cake by 
 making a fusible alloy of it with arsenic, and 
 then burning out the Latter as much as pos- 
 sible, and hammering or rolling the cake into 
 sheets, but the arsenic remaining in the 
 platinum always injures its quality. Dr. 
 Robert Ilare, of I'hiladelphia, was the first 
 to fuse the metal for any practical purpose, 
 and in May, 18:38, lie exhibited a cake of 
 about 23 ounces, which was run together 
 from grains and scraps by means of the in- 
 tense heat produced by bis oxy-hydrogen 
 blowpipe. From a reservoir of oxygen, and 
 from another of hydrogen, a gas-pipe con- 
 veyed the gases into one tube, in which tliey 
 were mixed just back of the igniting jets ; 
 and in this the explosive mixture was kept 
 cool by ice around the tube. Explosion was 
 moreover guarded against by the extreme 
 fineness of the apertures through which the 
 gases were made to pass. 
 
 This means of working platinum has been 
 applied very successfully by Dr. E. A. L. 
 Roberts, of Bond street, New York, in the 
 preparation of platinum plate and various 
 articles in this metal employed by dentists, 
 such as the plates and fastenings for sets of 
 artificial teeth, and the little pins which se- 
 cure each tooth in its setting. The annual 
 consumption of these last, it is estimated, 
 amounts throughout the United States to 
 about §60,000 in value, which is nearly i 
 of the annual supply of the metal. The ap- 
 paratus consists of two cylindrical copper 
 gas-holders, one for hydrogen, holding 220 
 gallons, and one for oxygen, holding 80 gal- 
 lons. The Croton water, with a pressure of 
 about 60 lbs. upon the square inch, is ad- 
 mitted into the bottom of these gas-receivers, 
 for propelling the gases as the}- are required. 
 The discharge pipes have each at their ex- 
 tremity a short brass tube, -which is full of 
 pieces of wire of nearly the same length as 
 the tulie, jammed in very tightly. These 
 unite in another brass tube which is packed 
 in a similar wa}', and connects by a metallic 
 pipe of only i inch bore, with the burner. 
 This is a little platinum box, one end of 
 which terminates in a disk of platinum or 
 copper i by i inch in size, perforated with 
 21 very minute holes in 3 rows. This box 
 is buried in plaster of Paris mixed up with 
 fibres of asbestus, forming a lump sufficiently 
 large to contain around the box a receptacle 
 
 into which, by means of flexible pipes, a cur- 
 rent of water is admitted and discharged on 
 the same principle that the water-tuyeres 
 of iron forges and furnaces are constructed 
 and kept cool while in use. The burner 
 points downward, so that the jet is directed 
 immediately upon the face of tlie metal held 
 up beneath it. The method of using the 
 apparatus is as follows : the platinum scraps 
 being first consolidated by pressure in 
 moulds into compact cakes of 10 to 20 
 ounces each, these are placed upon a plate 
 of fire-brick, and brought to a full white 
 heat in a powerful wind furnace. The plate 
 with the platinum is then removed from the 
 furnace and set in a large tin pan thickly 
 lined with asbestus and plaster of I'aris, and 
 is brought directly under the jet, which at 
 the same time is ignited. The platinum im- 
 mediately begins to melt upon the surface, 
 and the pieces gradually run together into 
 one mass as the dift'erent parts of the cakes 
 are brought successively under the jet. 
 Though the metal melts and flows upon 
 itself, it cools too rapidly to be cast in a 
 mould ; nor is this necessary or desirable 
 for the uses to which it is applied. These 
 require a soft and tough material, while the 
 fused metal is hard and sonorous, and of 
 crystalline texture, breaking like spelter. 
 It is made malleable and tough by repeated 
 heatings and hammerings. It is introduced 
 into the muffle of the assay furnace con- 
 structed by Dr. Roberts especially for pro- 
 ducing the high heat required in these and 
 similar operations, and is heated so intensely 
 that when the door of the furnace is opened 
 the cake of metal is too dazzlingly hot to be 
 visible. It is then taken out with tongs 
 plated with platimim, and hammered with a 
 perfectly clean hammer upon a clean anvil, 
 both of which should be as hot as possible 
 without drawing the temper of the steel. If 
 the process is one of welding, when the pla- 
 tinum has cooled so as to be distinctly visi- 
 ble, it should be heated again, for in this 
 condition every blow tends to shatter and 
 shake it to pieces. The lump is forged by 
 hammering it to a thickness of about i of an 
 inch, and then being again heated very hot, 
 is passed instantly through the rolls. It is 
 thus obtained in sheets, which are easily con- 
 verted into the various uses to which the 
 metal is applied. 
 
 Upon the opposite page, the apparatus 
 employed and manner of conducting the 
 operations are exhibited in the wood-cut; 
 
no 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 and the articles designated by the figures 
 are thus explained : — 
 
 1. Reservoir for oxygen. 
 
 2. " " hydrogen. 
 
 3. Hydrogen generator. 
 
 4. Oxygen " 
 6. Blowpipe. 
 
 G. Tuyere. 
 
 1. Rolls for converting the metal into sheets. 
 
 8. Gasometer. 
 
 9. Water pipes. 
 
 10. Pan. 
 
 11. Moulds in which the loose pieces of metal are 
 
 compressed. 
 
 Crucibles for chemical use are prepared by 
 the ingenious method called spinning. A 
 disk of the metal is securely tixed against the 
 end of the mandrel of a lathe, and, as it re- 
 volves rapidly, a blunt point is pressed upon 
 its surface, causing the plate to gradually 
 bend over and assume the desired form. 
 The large platinum retorts used in the man- 
 ufacture of sulphuric acid are imported from 
 Paris. The whole amount of platinum 
 brought to the United States for the year 
 1850 was 34,000 oz. troy, which, at the 
 custom-house valuation of $6.10 per oz., 
 amounts to $200,000. The importation 
 .since that time has been very irregtdar, but 
 never equal to this. The amount of scraps 
 remelted by Dr. Roberts is about 1000 oz. a 
 year. 
 
 IRIDIUM AND OSMIUM. 
 
 An alloy of these metals in fine grains of 
 excessive hardness is found very frequently 
 with platinum and with the gold which is 
 refined at the mints. It is of interest from 
 the use to which it is applied in forming the 
 nibs of gold pens ; and for this purpose the 
 small grains are purchased by the pen-makers 
 sometimes at the rate of $250 an ounce. 
 From this quantity they may select from 
 8000 to 12,000 points of suitable size and 
 shape for use. The alloy is known as iridos- 
 iniuin, and is also very generally called irid- 
 ium. At some seasons it has been quite 
 abundant in the gold presented at the New 
 York assay office ; but recently it is more 
 rare. As it does not fuse .and alloy with the 
 gold, it appears in specks upon the bars of 
 this metal. The method of separating it is 
 to melt the gold with a certain portion of 
 silver, as in the usual refining process. The 
 alloy thus obtained being less dense than the 
 melted gold, the particles of iridium settle in 
 the lower portions ; the upper is then ladled 
 oflf, and the metals are parted. More of the 
 
 impure gold is added, and the process thus 
 goes on till a considerable amount of iridium 
 is concentrated into the alio}' of gold and 
 silver, from which it is at last obtained by 
 dissolving these metals. According to the 
 statement of Dr. Thevenet published in the 
 A/inales des Mines (vol. xvi., 1859), irid- 
 ium is collected at the gold-washings along 
 the sea-coast of Oregon, and is sometimes 
 quite equal in quantity to the gold. Ho 
 describes it as white, glistening, very heav)', 
 its specific gravity being 20 to '21, very hard, 
 and resembling sand, its angles slightly flat- 
 tened and rounded by friction. It is accom- 
 panied by platinum .and rhodium. After 
 one of the storms that prevail along this 
 coast, the miners at low tide collect the 
 black sand and carry it to the washing and 
 amalgamating apparatus, in which it is stirred 
 with mercury and then treated upon the 
 shaking tables. Though by their rude proc- 
 esses they probably lose i of the precious 
 metals, they sometimes collect several ounces 
 a day of gold to the man. Near Fort Or- 
 ford, to the north of Rogue River, about 
 1 5 per cent, of iridium is found with the 
 gold. Still further north, between Cape 
 Blanco and Coquillo, the metals collected 
 consist of about 45 per cent, iridium and 5 
 per cent, platinum. Between Randolph and 
 Cape Arago the metallic grains are very 
 light and in extremely thin scales ; they con- 
 sist of 70 per cent, iridium and 6 per cent, 
 platinum. Further north, the iridium con- 
 tinues .almost as abundantly, but mostly in 
 very fine particles. One piece w.as shown to 
 Dr. Thevenet .as a great curiosity which was 
 as large as a grain of rice. In sifting more 
 than 50 lbs. of iridium, he states that he had 
 not seen a single specimen of one quarter 
 this size. 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 MERCURY. 
 
 Tins metal, which is exten.sively employed 
 in the arts, especially in the treatment of gold 
 and silver ores by amalgamation, in the com- 
 bination of amalgamsforcoating mirrors, etc., 
 in the construction of barometers and ther- 
 mometers, and other philosophical instru- 
 ments, in the manufacture of the paint called 
 vermilion, for several medicinal preparations, 
 and for a variety of other purposes, was not 
 classed .among the productions of the United 
 States until after the acquisition of Califor- 
 
MERCURT. 
 
 Ill 
 
 nia, when mines of its principal ore were 
 opened, wliich have been extensively worked, 
 as will be described below. Mercurj', which 
 is the only fluid metal, is found both in a 
 native state, dispersed in drops among the 
 slates that contain the veins of its ores, and 
 also occurs in combination with sulphur in the 
 ore called cinnabar, a compound of one atom 
 of mercury and one of sulphur, or of 86.2 
 per cent, of the former, and 13.8 per cent, 
 of the latter. Some other natural compounds 
 are known, which are not, however, of much 
 importance. Cinnabar is almost the exclu- 
 sive source of the metal. This is a very 
 heavy, brilliant ore of different shades of red; 
 is readily volatilized at a red heat, giving off 
 fumes, wlien exposed to the air, both mer- 
 curial and sulphurous ; but in tight vessels it 
 sublimes without decomposition, and if lime 
 or iron be introduced with the ore into re- 
 torts, the sulphur is retained in combination 
 with the new element, and the mercury es- 
 capes in vapor, which may be condensed 
 and recovered in the metallic state. On 
 this principle the process for collecting mer- 
 cury is based. The ores of mercury are 
 found in almost all the geological formations, 
 but the productive mines are only in the 
 metatnorphic or lowest stratified rocks, and in 
 the bituminous slates of the coal measures. 
 
 In order to appreciate the importance of 
 the mines of California, it is necessary to un- 
 derstand the extent of the demand for this 
 metal, and the sources which have supplied it. 
 From the time of the ancient Greeks and Ro- 
 mans, mercury has been held in high estima- 
 tion, and has been furnished from the same 
 mines, which h.ave ever since produced the 
 chief part of the product of the world. Pliny 
 states that the Greeks imported red cinnabar 
 from Almaden in Spain, 700 years before 
 the Christian era, and in his own time it was 
 broui^ht to Rome from the same mines to 
 the amount of 700,000 lbs. annually. In 
 modern times the production amounts to 
 2,700,000 to 3,456,000 lbs. per annum, and 
 is chiefly obtained from two veins, one 
 about 2 feet, and the other 14 feet thick, 
 which, meeting in a hill about 125 feet high, 
 spread out to a thickness of nearlj' 100 feet. 
 The ores are of small percentage, yielding 
 about ,-„ only of mercur}-. The greatest 
 depth of the workings was onl)' about 330 
 yards several years ago. After the metal has 
 been extracted from the ores, it is packed in 
 iron bottles or flasks holding 76i lbs. each, 
 and is taken to Cadiz for shipment. For 
 
 many years past, the lessees from the Span- 
 ish government, in whom the title is vested, 
 have been the Rothschilds and other bank- 
 ers of Europe ; but their contracts with the 
 government have varied from time to time, 
 thus aftecting the price at which the product 
 was held.* 
 
 The mines next in importance have been 
 those of Idria in Carniola, belonging to the 
 Austrian government. These, for some 
 years previous to 1847, had produced an 
 annual average of 358,281 lbs. of mercury, 
 and since that time, the production has va- 
 ried, sometimes reaching 600,000, and even 
 over 1,000,000 lbs. per annum. The other 
 mines of Europe do not probably produce 
 200,000 lbs. On the American continent 
 many localities of the ores have been worked 
 to some extent ; but although the consump- 
 tion is very great at the silver mines of 
 Mexico, amounting, as estimated by Hum- 
 boldt, to 16,000 quintals of 200 lbs. each, 
 three fourths of the supply was then derived 
 from the European mines. In 1782, mer- 
 cury was even brought to South America 
 from China, where it was formerly largely 
 extracted in the province of Yunnan. Yet 
 in the early years of the Spanish conquest 
 Peru was a large producer of the metal, its 
 most important mines being in the province 
 of Iluancavelica, where no loss than 41 dif- 
 ferent localities of the ore have been known ; 
 but at present the whole product of the 
 country is supposed not to exceed 200,000 
 lbs. A large portion of this product is from 
 the Santa Barbara, or the " Great Mine," 
 which has been worked since 1566. The 
 mines of Chili and the numerous localities at 
 which the ores have been found in Mexico 
 supply no metal of consequence. Dumas 
 estimated, not long since, the total annual 
 production as follows : — 
 
 lbs. avoirdupois. 
 
 Almaden, Spain 2,100,000 to .S, 456, 000 
 
 Idria 648,000 " 1,080,000 
 
 Hungary aud Transylvania.. 75,600" 97,200 
 
 Deu.x Fonts 42,200" 54,000 
 
 Palatinate 19,400" 21,600 
 
 Huancavelica . . 324,000 
 
 California 2,000,000 
 
 Total 7,032,800 
 
 * In 1839 tlie royalty demanded by the govern- 
 ment was $59 per quintal of lOG lbs., to wliich it 
 liad reached by successive advances from $51.25; 
 and in 1843 it had advanced to $82.50 per quintal. 
 The opening of the California mines soon caused this 
 to be considerably reduced. 
 
112 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 In California the existence of large quan- 
 tities of cinnabar was known long before the 
 real character of the ore was understood. It 
 was found along a range of hills on the 
 southern side of the valley of San Jose, 
 about 60 miles south-east from San Fran- 
 cisco. For an unknown period the Indians 
 had frequented the locality, coming to it 
 from distant places, even from the Columbia 
 river, to obtain the bright vermilion paint 
 with which to ornament their persons. With 
 rude implements, such as the stones they 
 picked from the streams, they extracted 
 the ore from the flinty slates and shales in 
 which it was found, and in their search for 
 it they excavated a passage into the moun- 
 tain of about sixty feet in length. In 
 1824 the attention of the whites began to 
 be directed to this curious ore, and some of 
 the Mexicans sought to extract from it gold 
 or silver. Other trials made of it in 1845 
 resulted in the discovery of its true charac- 
 ter, and operations were thereupon com- 
 menced to work it by one Andres Castil- 
 lero. Owing, however, to the disturbed 
 state of the country, little was done until 
 1850, when a company of Mexicans and 
 English engaged vigorously in the extraction 
 and metallurgical treatment of the ore, and 
 established the mine which they called the 
 Kew Almaden. In 185S a stop was put 
 upon their further proceedings by an injunc- 
 tion issued by the United States court on 
 the question of defective title. From the 
 testimony presented in the trial, it a])pearcd 
 that the company in the course of eight 
 years had produced full 20,000,000 Ibs.^of 
 metal, and realized a profit of more than 
 $1,000,000 annually. The Americans who 
 claimed the mine directed their attention to 
 the discovery of new localities of the ore, 
 and succeeded in finding it upon the same 
 range of hills within less than a mile of the 
 old workings. Here they opened a new 
 mine in December, 1858, which they named 
 the Enrequita, and in June, 1860, a com- 
 pany was formed in New York for working 
 it under the name of the " California Quick- 
 silver Mining Association." The following 
 are the returns of their operations to the 
 latest dates: in September, 1859, the prod- 
 uct of mercury was 14,400 lbs. ; October, 
 28,650; November, 27,525; December, 
 28,425; January, 1860, 27,000; February, 
 16,950; March, 25,500 ; April, 33,700; 
 May, 46,275 ; June, 48,750; July, 50,000; 
 August, 79,806 ; September, 66,096. The 
 
 increase of production, liereafter, will be 
 limited rather by the capacity of the re- 
 ducing apparatus than by that of the mine. 
 Twenty-four retorts for distilling the mer- 
 cur}' are now in operation, of which liave 
 been started since August, 18G0. From the 
 report of October 11, 1860, it appears that 
 a new vein has also been opened, in which 
 20 men are employed, working in solid cin- 
 nabar without having encountered the 
 boundary walls of the lode. The total ex- 
 penditure for mining, for machinery, etc., 
 up to October 15, 1800, had amounted to 
 §275,000, all of which has been paid out of 
 the proceeds of the mine, leaving a consid- 
 erable balance on hand. The company 
 owns another mine also, called the Provi- 
 dencia, which has produced some cinna- 
 bar. 
 
 The operations at the Enrequita mine are 
 carried on from the face of the hill, some 5 
 or 6 levels one above another being carried 
 into the mountain up and down its slope. 
 The most extensive of these is the adit level J 
 at the base, which is about GOO feet long. 1 
 Shafts arc sunk from this to the depth of 
 about 50 feet ; but the principal workings 
 are in the upper levels for 300 feet over the 
 adit. These are exceedingly irregular, ow- 
 ing to the unequal distribution of the ore 
 through the argillaceous slates. It lies in 
 beds included between the strata of these 
 lower silurian rocks, dipping with them at j 
 a very steep angle, and winding with the 1 
 contortions of the strata. The workings 
 follow the bunches of ore as they lead up or 
 down, and to the right or left. Shafts occa- 
 sionally penetrate from one level to another, 
 bnt no regular system of working appears to 
 have been adopted. With the cinnabar is 
 intermixed some arsenical iron and copper 
 pyrites, and the ore and slates are both trav- 
 ersed by veins of carbonate of lime, some 
 of which are retained in hand specimens of 
 the cinnabar. 
 
 On the same range of hills, at its western 
 extremity, the Santa Clara Mining Company, 
 of Baltimore, has opened a mine called the 
 Guadalupe, the product of which for the 
 year 1860 was about 200,000 lbs. 
 
 The total prwluction of the quicksilver 
 mines, from the beginning of 1853 to the 
 close of 1858, was about 177,578 flasks, or 
 13,318,350 lbs. In 1866, the California 
 mines produced 3,505,878 lbs, and in 1867, 
 3,810,957 lbs. Litigation has prevented 
 most of them from being fully worked. 
 
7- ' ~'' 
 
lU 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 METALLURGIC TREATMENT. 
 
 From cinnabar not contaminated with 
 strange metals, the method of obtaining the 
 fluid mercury is very simple. In the early 
 workings of the New Almaden mine, the 
 clean ores were placed in the common " try 
 pots," such as are used by the whalers, and 
 a cover being tightly luted on, a fire was 
 started under them, and the mercurial vapors 
 escaped through a tube inserted in the lid 
 and were condensed in cold vessels. After- 
 ward furnaces were constructed in brick-work 
 upon a large scale, each one provided with a 
 chaml)or or oven 7 feet long, 4 feet wide, and 
 5 feet high, corresponding to the chamber 
 of the revcrberatory furnaces ; and into this 
 was introduced a charge of 10,000 lbs. of 
 clean ore separated from tlie poorer portions 
 after the whole had been broken up. With 
 the ore was mixed a portion of lime to com- 
 bine with and retain the sulphur. A parti- 
 tion of hrick-work separated the oven from 
 the fire-room, and the bricks in this partition 
 were so laid as to leave open spaces for the 
 flame from the burning wood to pass 
 through. On the opposite side of the oven 
 another partition separated this from a 
 chamber of its own size, the only communi- 
 cation between them being by a square hole 
 in one of the corners close to the roof. 
 This chamber connected with another by an 
 opening in the opposite corner near the 
 floor, and this arrangenient was extended 
 through eight chambers. Between the last 
 one and the tall wooden flues through which 
 the smoke and vapors finally passed out into 
 the open air was placed a long wooden box 
 provided with a showering apparatus. As 
 the cinnabar was volatilized by the flame 
 playing over the charge, the vapors were 
 carried through tlie condensing chambers, 
 depositing in each a portion of mercury, and 
 in the showering box they underwent their 
 final condensation. From the bottom of 
 each chamber the met.al flowed in gutters to 
 the main conduit wlueh led to the great iron 
 reservoir sunk in the ground. From this it 
 was poured into flasks through brushes 
 which intercepted the scum of oxide of mer- 
 cury. The method proved very wasteful, 
 from the leakage of the vapors through the 
 brick-work ; and it has been abandoned for 
 an improved process,' in which the pulverized 
 ores mixed with quicklime are charged into 
 large cast-iron retorts very similar in their 
 form and setting to those employed at the 
 
 gas-works. Three arc sot together in a 
 bench of brick-work, and each one is fur- 
 nished with an eduction pipe inserted in 
 the end and leading down into water con- 
 tained in a large cylindrical condenser of 
 iron. This is placed along the front line of 
 the furnace, so as to receive the vapors from 
 all the retorts. The mercury, as it is con- 
 densed, falls down to the bottom, and is let 
 out through a pipe by a contrivance that pre- 
 vents the water flowing with it from the con- 
 denser. At the Enrequita mine each bench 
 of three retorts requires a little over a cord 
 of oak wood a day for heating. Four bench- 
 es, in operation from September, 1859, em- 
 ployed G men in charging and discharging, 
 working in 2 shifts of 3 men, besides 3 fire- 
 men, each working 8 hours. Two men be- 
 sides these were employed in mixing the ores 
 for the retorts. In June, 1860, the produc 
 tion of these furnaces, from 1000 carijas of 
 ore of 300 lbs. each, was about 50,000 lbs., 
 or about 17 per cent. 
 
 In conducting the furnaces, the workmen 
 are seriously affected by inhaling the mercu- 
 rial vapors. They are sometimes even sali- 
 vated, and are often obliged to abandon the 
 business for a time. The horses and mules 
 also suflfer from the noxious fumes, and many 
 are lost in consequence. But no injurious 
 effects are experienced among those em- 
 ployed in the mines, the cinnabar being al- 
 ways handled with impunity. 
 
 The view of the works presents their ap- 
 pearance in 1852, as sketched by J. R. Bart- 
 lett, Esq. It was first published in his " Per- 
 sonal Narrative" (New York, 1854). 
 
 USEFUL APPLICATIONS OF MERCURY. 
 
 The principal uses to which mercury is 
 applied have already been named. The 
 largest quantities are consumed in working 
 gold iind silver ores. The principle of the 
 amalgamating process is explained in the 
 account of the treatment of gold ores. In 
 the arts amalgams arc .applied to many use- 
 ful purposes, of which the most important is 
 coating the backs of looking-glass plates with 
 tin amalgam. Silver was originally em- 
 ployed instead of tin, and the process is still 
 called " silvering." It is conducted at sev- 
 eral establishments in the United States on 
 the old Venetian plan, which has been in 
 use for 300 years. The largest mirrors are 
 prepared by Messrs. Roosevelt & Sons, in 
 New York, from the French plates which 
 they import. The process is a simple one, 
 
SILVER — COBALT NICKEL — CHROME MANGANESE TIN. 
 
 115 
 
 but is attended with some difficulties arising 
 from the imperfections which will sometimes 
 appear upon the coating, notwithstanding 
 the particular care taken to avoid them. 
 The health of the workmen also suffers, so 
 that they cannot pursue the business more 
 than a few years. The only precaution 
 taken to protect them from the effects of 
 the mercury is thorough ventilation. Fre- 
 quent use of sulphur baths also is very ben- 
 eficial. The method of silvering is as fol- 
 lows : tables are prepared of stone made 
 perfectly smooth, with grooves sunk around 
 the edges. These are set horizontally, but 
 can be raised a little at one end by a screw. 
 Each table is covered with tinfoil carefully 
 spread out over a larger surface than the 
 plate will cover, and slips of glass being laid 
 around three of the sides, the mercury is 
 poured on till it covers the foil to the depth 
 of about i of an inch. Its affinity for the 
 tin, and the slips of glass, prevent its fl.iwing 
 off. The glass plate rendered perfectly 
 clean is then slidden along the open side, 
 the advancing edge being kept in the mer- 
 cury, so that no air nor oxide of the metal 
 can get between the plate and the amalgam. 
 The plate, when iu place, is secured and 
 pressed down by weights laid upon it, and 
 the table is raised a little to allow the excess 
 of mercur)' to trickle off by the grooves and 
 collect in a vessel placed on the floor to re- 
 ceive it. After remaining thus for several 
 hours, the plate is taken off and turned over 
 upon a fiame. After several weeks the 
 amalgam becomes hard, and the glass may 
 then be set on edge. 
 
 Amalgams of the precious metals are used 
 for what are called the water-gilding and 
 •water-silvering methods of gilding and silvor- 
 ingapplied to buttonsand various other metal- 
 lic articles. These, being made chemically 
 clean, are washed over with the amalgam 
 contained in a large excess of mercury, and 
 are then placed in a furnace artd heated till 
 the mercury is driven off by the heat, leaving 
 a thin film of the precious metal, which may 
 then be burnished. 
 
 Mercurial medicines, as calomel, (the chlo- 
 ride,) and blue mass, which is the metal re- 
 duced to fine particles by long-continued 
 trituration, and incorporated with twice its 
 weight of confection of roses and liquorice 
 TOot, are very largely prepared, especially 
 for the southern and western states and the 
 West India islands. The labor of triturating 
 the mercury for blue mass has led to the in- 
 
 troduction of ingenious machinery for the 
 purpose, invented by Mr. J. W. W. Gordon 
 of Baltimore, and by Dr. E. 11. Squibb of 
 Brooklyn, and worked by the latter at his 
 pharmaceutical laboratory by steam power. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 SILVER — COB.\LT— NICKEL — CHROME — 
 
 MANGANESE— TIN. 
 
 But few other ores of much importance 
 are found in the United States, besides those 
 of which accounts have been given ; and it 
 remains to describe the occurrence and ap- 
 plications of the ores of those metals only 
 which are comprised in the heading of this 
 chapter. 
 
 Tlie occurrence of this metal in the United 
 States is chiefly limited to some of the lead 
 ores ; and in very few of these, as noted in 
 the chapter upon lead, has it been found 
 in sufficient quantity to justify the working 
 of the mines and separation of the silver. 
 The Washington mine in Davidson co., N. 
 C, is still worked with moderate success 
 for both metals ; but the only promising 
 silver mines are those of Arizona, near 
 the Gila river in New Mexico, and the 
 Washoe mines on the extreme western 
 verge of the Utah territory. 
 
 In the territory of Arizona, especially in 
 that portion of it ceded to the United 
 States under the Gadsden treat}', are numer- 
 ous mines productive in silver, some of 
 which were worked when the territory be- 
 longed to old Spain. These are now at- 
 tracting the attention of Americans, and in 
 1859 and 1860, companies were organized 
 in Cincinnati, New York, and St. Louis, for 
 exploring and working them. The princi- 
 pal mine is that of the Sonora Company, 
 of Cincinnati. The locality is about 75 
 miles south of Tucson, and about 270 
 miles north of Guaymas, which is the chief 
 port of the Gulf of California. Several 
 mines in the vicinity were formerly worked 
 by the Mexicans for silver, and abandoned 
 in consequence of Indian depredations and 
 political troubles. The Sonora Company 
 commenced operations in 1858 upon a new 
 discovery, and have produced a considerable 
 amount of silver, reduced fr<mi the ores at 
 their works, at Arivaca, 7 miles from the 
 
116 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 mines. Seventy miles north of Tucson, 
 operations were commenced in 1860, in 
 another localit}', on the same mining range, 
 by a company organized in New York, called 
 the Maricopa Mining Company. Their mine 
 affords rich argentiferous copper ores, sam- 
 ples of which have been brought to New 
 York, and assayed by Prof John Torrey, 
 and other chemists. They proved to be 
 vitreous copper, associated with carbonates, 
 and yielded an average of over 50 per cent. 
 of copper. The metal contained variable 
 amounts of silver, worth from S40 to S80 
 per ton. Gold was also detected in it. The 
 outlet for this is also by (iuaymas, 420 miles 
 distant, tlirough a region easily traversed by 
 wagons, and upon long-established routes. 
 The cost of transportation, by contracts of 
 Mexicans, is at the rate of 5i cents per lb., 
 for the whole distance. In the vicinity of 
 the mines, on the Gila river, it is proposed 
 to reduce the ores. The region is on the 
 Pacific slope of the range of the silver min- 
 ing districts of Sonora and Durango, and its 
 rock formations are granitic and metainor- 
 pbic, traversed by dikes of trap, and con- 
 taining beds of quartz. 
 
 On the Rio Mimbres, 240 miles east of 
 Tucson, are the Santa liita del Cobre and 
 Mimbres mines, from which 333,000 lbs. 
 of copper are reported as having been de- 
 livered in New York in 1860. The metal 
 was smelted at the mines, transported through 
 Texas to Port Lavacca, and thence to New 
 Y'ork. Whether the ores contain silver or 
 not, is not known. Besides the operations 
 above named, others are in progress in Ari- 
 zona, of which we have no details. The 
 region is described in the " Personal Narra- 
 tive" of J. R. Bartlctt, Esq., and in the Con- 
 gressional Pacific Railroad reports. 
 
 The Washoe ores are argentiferous gale- 
 nas of richness varying between great ex- 
 tremes, some of the best sorts which have 
 been shipped to New York, and thence to 
 England, containing enough silver to give 
 them a value of §2000 per ton. The mines 
 are in the inferior range of hills along the 
 eastern base of the Sierra Nevada, and are 
 met with over an extensive territory in the 
 valle}- of the upper j)ortion of Carson's 
 River and many miles beyond this to the 
 north. Those of most importance are in 
 the vicinity of several new towns, called 
 Virginia City, Silver City, Carson City, etc., 
 about 16u miles north-east from Sacramento, i 
 From that point the crest of the Sierra Ne- [ 
 
 vada is reached in 100 miles, nearly due 
 east, and the remaining 60 miles is down 
 the valley of Carson's River. The discov- 
 eries of tlie silver ores were made the latter 
 part of the year 1S59, but it was known be- 
 fore this that gold existed in the valley, 
 and that the value of this metal was deteri- 
 orated by the silver with which it was usu- 
 ally alloyed. The opening of permanent veins 
 of silver ores produced a great excitement 
 throughout California, and led to an ex- 
 traordinary emigration to the new mining 
 district, and rapid development during the 
 year 1860 of its resources. The consid- 
 erable number of mines already in opera- 
 tion, upon veins of unquestionable perma- 
 nency, and the great richness of some of 
 the ores, together with the variety of those 
 already found, leave no room for doubting 
 that this is a mining region of great impor- 
 tance, and must largely add to the metallic 
 productions of the extreme western states. 
 
 The ores, on account of their complex 
 character, are difficult to reduce with econ- 
 omy, and the ordinary methods of obtain- 
 ing the lead fail, when applied to compounds 
 like these, which contain a large proportion 
 of silica, from which the galena cannot be 
 mechanically separated. The German method 
 of treating sucli ores, employed at Clausthal, 
 is to reduce them in small blast furnaces, 
 with a flux of granulated cast iron, or of iron 
 turnings, admitting only air enough to keep 
 up the combustion of the fuel. The lead 
 and silver are set free by the sulphur of the 
 ore combining with the iron, and the forma- 
 tion of infusible silicates of oxide of lead is 
 prevented by guarding against the oxidation 
 of lead, through too great access of air. The 
 separation is, however, very imperfect in a 
 single operation, and the rich slags obtained 
 are roasted in order to convert the sulphuret 
 of iron into oxide of iron, which, combining 
 with the silicates of the scoria^ forms very 
 fusible compounds, which are theji returned 
 to the furnace mixed with fresh charges of 
 ore. The silver goes with the lead, and is 
 separated by cupellation. 
 
 The ores of this metal are of rather rare 
 occurrence, and are applied to practical pur- 
 poses not to furnish the metal but its ox- 
 ide, which is of value for its property of 
 giving a beautiful blue color to glass with 
 which it is melted, and of producing other 
 fine colors when mixed with some other sub- 
 
SILVER COBALT NICKEL CHROME MANGANESE TIN. 
 
 117 
 
 stances. The ores are sought for all over 
 the world for the supply of the British man- 
 ufactories of porcelain, stained glass, etc. 
 They are chiefly combinations of cobalt 
 with arsenic, sulphur, and sometimes with 
 nickel and iron. The compound known as 
 sinaltine, or arsenical cobalt, was obtained 
 at Chatham, Conn., as far back as 1787, and 
 the mine has been worked for cobalt at dif- 
 ferent times in the present century. The co- 
 balt in the ore is associated with about an 
 equal amount of nickel, and its proportion 
 is said to have been less than two per cent. 
 Cobaltine, which is a compound of sulphur 
 19.3 per cent., arsenic 45.2, and cobalt 
 35.5, is the most productive ore of this 
 metal, but is not met with in this country. 
 Varieties of pyritous cobalt have been found 
 in Maryland in quantities too small for 
 working ; and also at Mine la Motte in Mis- 
 souri, associated with a black earthy oxide 
 of cobalt and black oxide of manganese. 
 In other places, also, oxide of cobalt, in 
 small quantity, is a frequent accompaniment 
 of manganese ores. Mine la Motto has fur- 
 nished a considerable amount of the cobalt 
 oxide, but the beds in which it is found are 
 not of permanent character, and are so far 
 exhausted as to be no longer worked with 
 profit. A similar ore, accompanied with 
 nickel, appears to be very abundantly dis- 
 tributed among the talcose and quartzose 
 slates in Gaston and Lincoln counties, North 
 Carolina. It is thrown out with a variety 
 of other ores, as galena, blende, titaniferous 
 iron, etc.. in working the gold mines of this 
 region ; and it is mixed among the great 
 beds of hematite, found in the same district, 
 which are the product of the decomposition 
 of beds of pyritous iron. In some places it 
 is so abundant that the strata containing it 
 are conspicuous where the roads pass over 
 them, bv the blackness of the gossan (de- 
 composed ore) or wad. Prof. H. Wurtz, 
 who describes these localities (see "American 
 Journal of Science," 2d series, vol. xxvii., p. 
 24), is of opinion that the earthy oxide of 
 cobalt is the gossan of the sulphuret of this 
 metal, existing unaltered in the rocks below. 
 Oxide of cobalt, obtained in a crude 
 state from the washed arsenical ores, is 
 known as zaflfre or saflor, and in this condi- 
 tion it is a commercial article. It is refined 
 by separating the arsenic, iron, and other for- 
 eign substances, by precipitating them from 
 the solution in hydrochloric acid ; and the ox- 
 ide is finally obtained by precipitating with 
 
 chloride of lime, and heating the product to 
 redness. Smalt is a preparation of cobalt 
 largely used in the ; rts as a coloring material, 
 and consists of silicate of potash and cobalt. 
 It is in fact a potash glass colored by silicate 
 of cobalt, and is prepared as follows : Zaf- 
 fre is melted in pots, with suitable propor- 
 tions of pure sand and potash and a little 
 saltpetre. The other metals combine to- 
 gether and sink in a metallic mass, which 
 is called speiss. The glass containing the 
 oxide of cobalt is ladled out and pour- 
 ed into water to granulate it, and is then 
 ground to powder. This being introduced 
 into vats of water, the colored glass sub- 
 sides in deposits, which gradually diminish 
 in their proportions of oxide of cobalt. 
 The first are of the deepest blue, and are 
 called azure ; but of this, and of the succeed- 
 ing fainter shades, there are many varieties, 
 distinguished b}' peculiar names. When 
 finely powdered, smalt is applied to col- 
 oring wall papers, and blueing linen, be- 
 sides being incorporated with porcelain to 
 impart to it permanent blue shades. The 
 great value of oxide of cobalt, amounting to 
 several dollars per lb., renders it an impor- 
 tant object to fully develop the resources of 
 the country in its ores, as well for export as 
 for domestic use. In 1856 there were im- 
 ported into Great Britain 428 tons of co- 
 balt ore, and 34 tons of oxide of cobalt. 
 
 Nickel is a metal of some commercial im- 
 portance, and is employed chiefly for pro- 
 ducing, with copper and zinc, the alloy 
 known as German silver. The proportions 
 of these metals are not constant, but the 
 most common in use are eight parts of copper 
 to three.each of nickel and zinc. The larger 
 the proportion of copper, the more easily the 
 plates are rolled ; but if more is used than 
 the relative amounts named, the copper soon 
 becomes apparent in use. The new cent 
 contains 12 parts of nickel to 88 of copper, 
 and the manufacture of this adds somewhat 
 to the demand. The metal has been mined 
 at Chatham, Conn., and is met with at Mine 
 la Motte and other localities where cobalt 
 is found. It occurs in greatest abundance at 
 an old mine in Lancaster county, Penn., 
 where it is associated with copper ores. The 
 mine was originally worked for copper, it is 
 said, more than one hundred and thirty years 
 ago, and was reopened for supplying nickel 
 for the U. S. Mint, on the introduction of 
 
118 
 
 MINING INDUSTRT OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 the new cent in 1857. The sulphuret of 
 nickel, containing, when pure, 64.9 per cent, 
 of nickel, and 35.1 per cent, of sulphur, is in 
 very largo quantity, in two veins of great size, 
 one of which has been traced over 600 feet, 
 and the other over 900 feet in length. In 
 1859 it was producing at the rate of 200 tons 
 of nickel ore and ten tons of copper ore per 
 month. A pyritous variety of nickel ore, 
 called siegenite, is found at Mine la Motte, 
 Missouri, and in Carroll county, Maryland. 
 In Gaston and Lincoln counties, North Car- 
 olina, similar ore was found by Prof. Wurtz, 
 as noticed in the remarks on cobalt, above. 
 
 CHROME OR CHROMIUM. 
 
 The ore of this metal, known as chromic 
 iron or chromate of iron, lias been mined 
 for many years in the United States, both 
 for exportation and domestic use. It is the 
 source whence the chrome colors are ob- 
 tained that are largely used in the arts, es- 
 pecially in dyeing and calico printing. The 
 name of the metal, from a Greek word 
 meaning color, was given in consequence of 
 the fine colors of its compounds. It usually 
 consists of the sesquioxide of cliromium in 
 proportion varying from 36 to GO per cent., 
 protoxide of iron from 20 to 37 per cent., 
 alumina sometimes exceeding 20 per cent., 
 and more or less silica, and sometimes mag- 
 nesia. Its value consists oidy in the first- 
 named inrfrodient. The localities of the ore 
 are in the serpentine rocks of different parts 
 of the United States, as in the Bare Hills, 
 near Baltimore, and near the Maryland state 
 line on the southern edge of Chester and 
 Lancaster counties, Pennsylvania. In small 
 quantities the ore is met with at Hobo- 
 ken, Staten Island, and other places near 
 New York city. It is found in several 
 towns in Vermont, but the largest veins of 
 it are in Jay, in the northern part of the 
 state. The composition of this ore was 
 found by Mr. T. S. Hunt to be 49.9 of 
 green oxide or sesquioxide of chromium, 
 48.96 of protoxide of iron, and 4.14 per 
 cent, of alumina, silica, and magnesia. 
 Though the quantity of the ore in this re- 
 gion is reported to be large, the principal 
 supplies of the country have been obtained 
 in Maryland, and from the mines just over 
 the state line in Pennsylvania. The ore, 
 as recently as 1854, was found in loose frag- 
 ments among the disintegrated materials of 
 the serpentine upon the tracts called the 
 barrens, and was gathered up from the val- 
 
 leys and ravines, and dug out in sinking 
 shallow pits and trenches over the surface. 
 The ore thus obtained was called " sand 
 chrome," and for a time it had been worth 
 §45 per ton, and thousands of tons had 
 been collected and shipped, principally to 
 Baltimore. At the period named these su- 
 perficial deposits were mostly exliausted, 
 and the value of the ore was only about 
 §25 per ton. This, however, was sufficient 
 to sustain regular mining operations, which 
 were then carried on upon the veins found 
 in the serpentine, a little west uf the east 
 branch of tlie Octorara Creek. Wood's 
 chrome mine, near the Horse-shoe Ford, 
 was at that time about 150 feet deep, and 
 the workings had been extended north-east 
 and south-west about 300 feet, upon an 
 irregular vein of chrome ore, which lay at 
 an inclination of about 45° with the hor- 
 izon toward the north-west. The ore, in 
 places, formed bunches, which attained a 
 width of 20 feet, and then thinned away 
 to nothing. Four men obtained from the 
 mine 7 or 8 tons of excellent ore a day, 
 the best of which was directly placed in 
 barrels for the foreign market, and the 
 poorer was dressed and washed for the Bal- 
 timore, and other home markets. The state 
 line mine, in the same vicinity, worked to 
 about the same depth, had produced several 
 thousand tons. Tlie supplies of this ore are 
 always of uncertain continuance. 
 
 Useful Applications. — Chromate of 
 iron is used chiefly in the production of 
 chromate of potash, and from this the 
 other useful chromatic salts are obtained. 
 The object in view in the chemical treat- 
 ment of the ore is to convert the sesqui- 
 oxide of chromium into the peroxide or 
 chromic acid, and cause this to combine 
 with potash. This may be effected by vari- 
 ous methods, as by exposi^ig a mixture of 
 the pulverized ore and of kiltpetre (nitrate 
 of potash) to a strong heat for some hours. 
 The chrome is peroxidized at the expense of 
 the oxygen of the nitric acid of the salt- 
 petre, and the chromic acid combines with 
 the potash ; or if the ore is mixed with car- 
 bonate of ])otash and calcined, the peroxida- 
 tion of the chrome is eflectcd by admission 
 of air into the furnace, and the same prod- 
 uct is obtained as in the employment of 
 saltpetre. The introduction of lime hastens 
 the operation. Other mixtures also are 
 used for the same purpose. Wlien the cal- 
 cined matter, having been drawn out from 
 
SILVER COBALT NICKEL — CHROME — MANGANESE TIN. 
 
 119 
 
 the furnace, is lixiviated with water, the 
 chromate of potash is dissolved and washed 
 out, and is afterward recovered in the form 
 of yellow crystals on evaporating the water. 
 From chromate of potash the other salts are 
 readilv produced. Chrome yellow, used as 
 a paint, is prepared by mixing chromate of 
 potash with a soluble salt of lead, and col- 
 lecting the yellow precipitate of chromate of 
 lead which falls. A bright red precipitate 
 is obtained by thus employing a salt of mer- 
 cury, and a deep red with salts of silver. 
 Chrome green is produced by mixing Prus- 
 sian blue with chrome yellow. Some new 
 and very interesting compounds of tlie ses- 
 quioxide of chromium with ditl'erent bases 
 have been recently obtained by Prof. A. K. 
 Eaton of New York, and in consequence 
 of their decided colors and the extraordi- 
 nary permanency of these against powerful 
 reagents applied to remove them, the salts 
 ■were employed for printing bank-notes. 
 Though they proved to be all that was re- 
 quired as to the colors themselves, the steel 
 plates were so rapidly cut by the excessively 
 sharp and hard powders, however finely they 
 were ground, that it was found necessary to 
 abandon their use. The new .salts were chro- 
 mitcs — that of iron having a dark purple col- 
 or ; of manganese, a lighter shade of the 
 same ; of copper, a rich blueish black ; of 
 zinc, a golden brown ; of alumina, a green, 
 somewhat paler than that of the sesquio.x- 
 ide. 
 
 MANGANESE. 
 
 Though this is a metal of no value of it- 
 self, one of its ores, called pyrolnsite, is a 
 mineral of some commercial importance, 
 chietly on account of the large proportion 
 of oxvgen it contains, part of which it 
 can be casil)' made to give up when simply 
 heated in an iron retort. The composition 
 of pyrolusite, or black oxide of manganese, 
 is 60.4 per cent, of manganese, and 36.6 
 per cent, of oxygen. It is a hard, steel- 
 gray ore, resembling some of the magnetic 
 iron ores, and is often found accompanying 
 iron ores, especially the hematites. In the 
 United States it is met with in various lo- 
 calities along the range of the hematites, 
 from Canada to Alabama, and has been 
 mined to considerable extent at Chittenden 
 and Bennington, Vermont; WestStockbridge 
 and Sheffield, Mass. ; on the Delaware river, 
 and near Kutztown, Berks co., Pcnn. ; and 
 abounds in different parts of the gold region, 
 
 as on Hard-labor Creek, Edgefield District, 
 S. C. Usually the ore is found in loose 
 pieces among the clays which fill the irregu- 
 lar cavities between the limestone strata ; 
 its quantity is of course very uncertain, 
 and its mines are far from being of a perma- 
 nent character. Oxide of iron is commonly 
 mixed with the manganese ore, reducing its 
 richness, and at the same time seriouslv in- 
 juring it for some of the purposes to which 
 it is applied. As obtained from the mines, 
 the assorted ore is packed in barrels and 
 sent to the chemical establishments, where 
 it is employed principally in the manufac- 
 ture of chloride of lime or bleaching pow- 
 der. For this purpose the pulverized black 
 oxide of manganese is introduced into hydro- 
 chloric acid, and this being heated a double 
 decomposition takes place, a portion of its 
 chlorine is expelled, and the hydrogen that 
 was combined with it unites with a part of 
 the oxygen of the pyrolusite. The chlo- 
 rine, which it was the object of the process 
 to obtain, is then brought in contact with 
 hydrate of lime, and uniting with the cal- 
 cium base, forms the bleaching powder. A 
 similar result is obtained by mixing the ox- 
 ide of manganese with chloride of sodium 
 (common salt), and adding sulphuric acid. 
 By these operations a weight of oxygen 
 equal to about one tliird that of the pure 
 ore may be obtained, and this may be ap- 
 plied to any of the purposes for which oxy- 
 gen not absolutely pure is required. Black 
 oxide of manganese is also used to decolor- 
 ize glass stained green by the presence of 
 the protoxide of iron. Its own amethystine 
 tint is supposed to neutralize the optical ef- 
 fect of the greenish hue of the iron. Pure 
 pyrolusite, free from iron, might be shipped 
 to profit to Liverpool, where it is worth S'So 
 to S40 per ton, but inferior ore would in- 
 volve bills of cost. The chemically prepared 
 permanganate of potassa has come into ex- 
 tensive use as an anti-septic, of lute years. 
 
 The very useful metal, tin, is not one of 
 the products of this country, and there is 
 no encouragement for hoping that its ores 
 will ever be found in workable quantity. Its 
 presence has been recognized in a few small 
 crystals of oxide of tin, found in Chester- 
 field and Goshen, Mass., and it has been de- 
 tected as a mere trace in the iron ores of 
 the Hudson, and iron and zinc ores of New 
 Jersey ; it is also associated with some of 
 
120 
 
 NISISG ISnrSTRY OF THE rNITKD STATES. 
 
 the gold ores of Virginia. In tlie town of 
 Jaokson, N. II., is .1 vein of arsenical iron, 
 containing tliin streaks of oxide of tin. There 
 have been diseovered. also, some of the tin 
 ores lliongli not as vet in hirge quantity in 
 JIaine. in Missonri. in Texas, and in Califor- 
 nia. The last named, it is thought, may yet 
 fxirnish considerable siipulies. Tin is impor- 
 ted ehietly fronj the mines of Cornwall. Kng- 
 land. and from l^anca, and other ishinds of 
 the Malay archipelago. The United States 
 is one of the largest consmners of tin, sheet 
 tin having been appliixl, through the inge- 
 nuity of the workers of this .nrtide in Coii- 
 neeticut, to the manufaeture of a variety of 
 useful ntensils. What is called ^heet tin is 
 really sheet iron coated with a very thin 
 layer of tin. The sheets are jirepared in 
 Kngland by dipping the brightened iron 
 sheets into a batli of melted tin. The jiro- 
 cess has been applied to txiaiing articles 
 made of iron, wjiiclt are thus jirotected 
 from rusting ; and zinc is also used for sim- 
 ilar purposes. Such are stirrtips, bridle-bits, 
 etc Ciist-iron pots and s;iuoepans are tin- 
 ned on the inside by inelted tin being poured 
 in and made to tlow over the surface, which 
 h;is been made chemically clean to receive 
 the metal. The surtace is then rubbed with 
 cloth or tow. Tin is importcil in blocks or 
 ingots, and the metal is applied to the prej)- 
 aration of \imous alloys, ;is bronze or bell- 
 met.-il, composed of copper and tin in vari- 
 able proportions, commonly of TS p.vts of 
 copper, and i!:? of tin ; gun-metal, copper 90, 
 and tin 10; pewter, of various proportions 
 of tin and lead, or when designed for pewter 
 plates, of tin 100, antimony 8, bismuth i, 
 and copper 2 ; :md soft solder, consisting of 
 tin and lead, usually of two parts of the 
 fi>rmer to one of the latter. Bismuth is 
 sometimes added to increase the fusibility 
 of the allov. 
 
 CH-VPTER IX. 
 
 WAL. 
 
 To the early settlers of the Americiin colo- 
 nies the beds of mineral coal they met with 
 wen? of no interest. In the abundance of the 
 forests aniund them, and with no manufac- 
 turinj operations that involved l.^rge con- 
 sumption of fuel, they attached no v:ilue to 
 the bliick stony coal, the real importance of 
 which w.as not in fact appreciated even in 
 
 Europe until after the invention of the steam 
 engine. The e.irliest use of niiner.d coal was 
 probably of the anthracite of the Lehigh re- 
 gion, though it may be that the James River 
 bituminous coal mines, 12 miles above Rich- 
 mond, were worked at an earlier period than 
 the Pennsylvania anthi-.icitcs. The region 
 containing the latter belonged to the tribes 
 of the Six Nations, until their title w.ts ex- 
 tinguished and the proprietary government 
 obtained possession, in 1 740, of a territory 
 of 3750 square miles, including the southern 
 and middle of the three anthracite coal-tields 
 In 1 76S possession was acquired of the north- 
 ern eoal-tield, and at the same time of the 
 great bituminous region west of the Alle- 
 ghany mountains. The existence of coal in 
 the anthracite region could not have escaped 
 the notice of the whites who had explored 
 the country, for its great beds were exposed 
 in many of the n.itural sections of the river 
 banks and precipitous hills, and down the 
 mountain streams pieces of co;il, washed out 
 from the beds, were .abundantly scattered. 
 The oldest maps now known, dating as far 
 back as 1770, and compiled from still older 
 ones, designate in this region localities of 
 " coal ;"' but these were probably not re- 
 garded as giving any additional value to the 
 territorv. The first recorded notice of its 
 use was in tlie northern basin by some black- 
 smiths in 1770, only two years after the 
 whites came in possession; and in 1775 a 
 boat load of it w.as sent down from "W'ilkes- 
 barre t.> the Continental .armory- at Car- 
 lisle. This was two years after the laying 
 out of the borough of Wilkesbarre by the 
 Susquehanna Land Company of Connecti- 
 cut, From this time the coal continued to 
 be used for mechanical operations by smiths, 
 distillers, etc.: and according to numerous 
 certificates from the-^. published in 1S15, 
 in a pamphlet by Mr. Z;iehariah Cist of 
 Wilkesbarre. they had found it very much 
 better for their purposes, and more econom- 
 ical to use than Virginia bituminous coal, 
 tliough at the enormous price of 90 cents 
 a bushel. Gunsmiths found it very conven- 
 ient for their small fires, and one of them, 
 diiting his certificate December 9, 1814, 
 stated that he had used it for 20 years, con- 
 sumin<r .tbout a pec"k a day to a fire, which 
 was sufficient for manufacturing S musket- 
 barrels, each barrel thus requiring a quart 
 of coal. Oliver Evans, the inventor of the 
 steam engine, certifies in the same pamphlet 
 to his having used it for raising steam, for 
 
COAL. 
 
 121 
 
 which it possessed properties superior to those 
 of any otlier fuel. Judge Foil of Wilkos- 
 barrc applii'd it to warmine; houses in 1808, 
 and contrived suitable ffrates for this use of 
 it ; but the cheapness of wood and the 
 greater convenience of a fuel which every 
 one understood how to use, long prevented 
 its general adoption. In the first volume 
 of the " Memoirs of the Historical Society 
 of Pennsylvania," T. C. James, M.D., gives 
 "a brief account of the discovery of anthra- 
 cite coal on the Lehigh," in which ho de- 
 scribes a visit he made to the Mauch Chutdv 
 mountain in 1804, where ho saw the immense 
 bod}' of anthracite, into which several small 
 pits had then been sunk, and which was 
 afterward worked, as it is still, as an open 
 qnarr}'. He states that he commenced to 
 burn the coal that year, and had continued 
 to use it to the time of making this commu- 
 nication in 182G. The discovery of this fa- 
 mous mass of coal was made in 1791, and 
 in 1793 the " Lohigh Coal Mine Company" 
 was forme<l to work it. But as there were 
 no facilities for transporting the coal down 
 the valley of the Lehigh, nothing was done 
 until 1814, when, at groat labor and expense, 
 20 tons were got down the river and were 
 delivered in Pliiladelphia. Two years be- 
 fore this a few wagon loads had been re- 
 ceived there from the Schuylkill mines; but 
 the regular trade can hardly be said to have 
 commenced until 1820, when the receipts in 
 Philadelphia amounted to 365 tons. Such 
 was the commencement of the great anthra- 
 cite trade of Pennsylvania, which in the 
 course of 45 years has been steadily in- 
 creasing, till it now reaches the enormous 
 amount of l.'J,.3r>8,437 tons for the year 1867, 
 and sustains numerous branches of metallur- 
 gical and mechanical industry, the possible 
 dependence of which upon this fuel and 
 source of power was hardly dreamed of 
 when its mines were tirst opened. 
 
 The existence of bituminous coal west of 
 the AUeghanies was probably known as early 
 as was that of anthracite in the eastern part 
 of Pennsylvania; and on the western rivers 
 it could not fail to have been noticed by the 
 early missionaries, voyageurs, and hunters. 
 In the old maps of 1770 and 1777 the oc- 
 currence of coal is noted at several points 
 on the Ohio. A tract of coal land was taken 
 up in 1785 near the present town of Clear- 
 field, on the head-waters of the west branch 
 of tlie Susquehanna, by Mr. S. Boyd, and in 
 1804 he sent an ark load of the coal down 
 
 the Susquehanna to Columbia, Lancaster 
 county, which, ho states, caused much sur- 
 prise to the inhabitants, that "an article with 
 wliich they were wholly unacquainted should 
 be thus brought to their own doors." This 
 was the commoncoraent of a trade which has 
 since boon prosecuted to some extent by 
 running rafts of timber loaded with coal, and 
 sometimes with pig iron also, from the head- 
 waters to the lower portion of the Susque- 
 hanna. The bituminous coal mines on the 
 James River, 12 miles above Richmond, in 
 Virginia, wore also worked during the last 
 century, but at how early a period we are 
 ignorant. In an account of them in the first 
 volume of the " American Journal of Sci- 
 ence," published in 1818, they are spoken 
 of as already having boon worked 30 years. 
 
 VARIETIES OF COAL. 
 
 The mineral coals are found of various 
 sorts, which are distinguished by peculiari- 
 ties of appearance, composition, and proper- 
 ties. Derived from vegetable matters, they 
 exhibit in their varieties the successive chang- 
 es which these have undergone from the 
 condition of peaty beds or deposits of lig- 
 neous materials — first into the variety known 
 as brown coal or lignite, in which the bitu- 
 minous property appears, while the fibre 
 and structure of the original woody masses 
 is fully retained ; next in beds of bituminous 
 coal comprised between strata of shales, fire- 
 clay, and sandstones ; and thence through 
 several gradations of diminishing proportions 
 of bitumen to the hard stony anthracite, the 
 composition of which is nearly pure carbon; 
 and last of all in this series of steps attend- 
 ing the conversion of wood into rock, the 
 vegetable carbon is locked up in the miner- 
 al graphite or plumbago. These steps are 
 clearly traceable in nature, and in all of them 
 the strata which include the carbonaceous 
 beds have undergone corresponding changes. 
 The clayey substratum that supports the 
 peat appears under the beds of mineral coal 
 in the stony material called firo-clay (used 
 when ground to make fire-brick) ; the 
 muddy sediments such as are found over 
 some of the groat modern peat deposits, ap- 
 pear in the form of black shales or slates, 
 which when pulverized return to their muddy 
 consistency ; the beds of sand, such as are 
 met with in some of the peat districts of 
 Europe interstratified with difi'erent peat 
 beds, are soon in the coal-measures in beds 
 of sandstones ; and the limestones which also 
 
122 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 occur in the same group of strata, represent 
 ancient beds of calcareous marls. The slow 
 progression of these changes is indicated by 
 the different ages of the geological formations 
 in which the several varieties occur. Beds 
 of peat are of recent formation, though 
 some of them are still so old, that they are 
 found at different depths, one below another, 
 separated by intervening layers of sand, 
 cla}', and earth. Brown coal, or lignite, is 
 commonlj' included among the strata of 
 the tertiary period ; the bituminous coals 
 are in the secondary formations; and the an- 
 thracites, though contained in the same ge- 
 ological group with the great bituminous 
 coal formation, are in localities where the 
 strata have all been subjected to the action 
 of powerful agents which have more or less 
 metamorphosed them and expelled the vola- 
 tile bitumen from the coal. The graphite or 
 plumbago is in still older groups, or in those 
 which liave been still more metamorphosed 
 by heat. 
 
 All these varieties of fossil fuel are found 
 in the United States. Peat beds of small 
 extent are common in the northern portion 
 of the country, and in some parts of New 
 England are nmch used for fuel, and the 
 muck, or decomposed peat, as a fertilizer to 
 the soil. In the great swamps of southern 
 Virginia, the (Jarolinas, and Georgia, vegeta- 
 ble depositsof similar nature are found upon 
 a scale more commensurate with the extent 
 of the ancient coal-beds. Lignite is not 
 found in workable beds, as in some parts of 
 Germany and England, but in scattered de- 
 posits of small extent among the tertiary 
 clays, chiefly near the coast of New Jersey, 
 Delaware, and Maryland, and in the west- 
 ern territories. The distribution of the true 
 coal formations will be pointed out after des- 
 ignating more particularly the characters of 
 tlic different coals All of these consist of 
 the elements carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, .and 
 nitrogen; the carbon being in part free, 
 and in part combined with the other ele- 
 ments to form the volatile compounds that 
 exist to some extent in all coals. Earthy 
 matters which form the ash of coals are al- 
 ways intermixed in some proportion with 
 the combustible ingredients, and water, also, 
 is present. When coals are analyzed for 
 the purpose of indicating their heating qual- 
 ity by their composition, it is enough to de- 
 termine the proportions of fixed carbon, of 
 Tolatile matter, and of ash which they con- 
 tain. How the combined carbon, hydrogen, 
 
 oxygen, and the little nitrogen in their com- 
 position, may be distributed in the forms of 
 carburetted hydrogen, ammonia, the bitu- 
 minous oils, etc., cannot be ascertained by 
 analysis, as the means employed to separate 
 most of these compounds cause their ele- 
 ments to form other combinations among 
 themselves: the determination of the ulti- 
 mate proportions of all the elements would 
 serve no pr.actical purpose. So, if it bo re- 
 quired to prove the fitness of any coal for 
 art'ording illuminating gas, or the coal oils, it 
 must be submitted to experiments having 
 such objects only in view ; and even their 
 capacity for generating heat is better deter- 
 mined by comparative experiments in evapo- 
 rating water, than by any other mode. The 
 bituminous coals are characterized by their 
 large proportion of volatile matter, which, 
 when they are heated, is expelled in various 
 inflammable compounds, that take fire and 
 burn, accompanied by a dense, black smoke 
 and a peculiar odor known as bituminous. 
 If the operation is conducted without access 
 of air, .as in a closed platinum crucible, the 
 fixed carbon remains behind in the form of 
 coke ; and by removing the cover to admit 
 air, this may next be consumed, and the re- 
 siduum of ash be obtained. By several J 
 weighings the proportions are indicated. ' 
 Coals containing IS per cent, or more of 
 volatile matter are classed among the bi- 
 tuminous varieties ; but as the proportion of 
 this may amount to 70 per cent, or more, 
 there is necessarily a considerable difference 
 in the characters of these coals, though their 
 most m.arked peculiarities are not always 
 owing to the difterent amounts of volatile 
 matter they contain. Thus, some sorts, called 
 the " fat I ituminous," and "caking coals," 
 that melt and run together in burning, and 
 are especiallv suit.able for making coke, con- 
 tain about the same proportion of volatile 
 matter with the "dry coals," as some of the 
 canni I and other varieties, which burn with- 
 out melting, and do not make good coke. 
 Other varieties are especially distinguished 
 for their largo proportion of volatile ingre- 
 dients; such are the best cannels, and those • 
 light coals which have sometimes been mis- 
 taken for asphaltum, as the Albert coal of 
 the province of New Brunswick. These va- 
 rieties are eminently qu.alified for producing 
 gas or the coal oils; but have little fixed car- 
 bon, and consequently can produce little 
 coke. Coals that contain from 11 to 1 8 per 
 cent, volatile matter, are known as semi-bi- 
 
123 
 
 tuminous, and partake both of the qualities 
 of the true bituminous coals, in igniting and 
 burning freely, and of the anthracite in the 
 condensed and long-continued heat they 
 produce. The Maryland coals, and the Ly- 
 kens valley coal of Pennsylvania, are of 
 this character. The true anthracites con- 
 tain from 2 to 6 per cent, of gaseous mat- 
 ters, which by heat are evolved in carbu- 
 retted hydrogen and water, even when the 
 coal has been first freed from the water me- 
 chanically held. Their greatest proportion 
 of solid carbon is about 95 per cent. There 
 remains a class which has been designated 
 as semi-anthracite, containing from 6 to 11 
 per cent, of combustible volatile matter. 
 These coals burn with a yellowish flame, un- 
 til the gas derived from the combination of 
 its elements is consumed. 
 
 The earthy ingredients in coals, forming 
 their ash, are derived from the original wood 
 and from foreign substances introduced 
 among the collections of ligneous matters 
 that make up the coal-beds. The ash 
 is unimportant, excepting as the material 
 which produces it takes tiie place of so much 
 combustible matter. In some coals, espec- 
 ially those of the Schuylkill region, it is red, 
 from the presence of oxide of iron, and in 
 
 others it is gray, as in the Lehigh coals. 
 This distinction is used to designate some 
 of the varieties of anthracite ; but the qual- 
 ity of these coals is more dependent on the 
 quantity of the ash, than on its co\i>t. From 
 numerous analyses of the Schuylkill red ash 
 coals an average of 7.29 per cent, of ash 
 was obtained, and of the white ash anthracite, 
 4.02 per cent. Coals producing red ash are 
 more likely to clinker in burning than those 
 containing an equal amount of white ash. 
 In some varieties of coal the proportion of 
 earthy matter is so great that the substance 
 approaches the character of the bituminous 
 shales, and may be called indifferently ei- 
 ther shale or coal. Though such materials 
 make but poor fuel, some of them have 
 proved very valuable from the large amount 
 of gas and of oily matters thev afford. The 
 most remarkable of this class is that known 
 as the Boghead cannel. This is largely 
 mined near Glasgow, in Scotland, and is im- 
 ported into New York to be used in the 
 manufacture of coal oil. It is a dull black, 
 stony-looking substance, having little resem- 
 blance to the ordinary kinds of coal. Its 
 composition is given for comparison with 
 that of other coals, in the following ta- 
 ble :— 
 
 g 
 
 < ^ 
 
 Localities. Authority. 8P''<^i«o 
 
 •' Gravity. 
 
 Shenowlth Vein, Penn H. D. Rogers 1.50 
 
 Peacii .Mountain, I'cnu. ; mean of 40 analyses W. K. Johnson 1.46 
 
 Lackawanna 
 
 Heaver Meadow 
 
 I Price's Mountain, Montgomery Co., Virglfiia.. 
 
 Portsmouth. Khode Island 
 
 Mansfield, Mass 
 
 Atkinson's and Templenian's, Maryland ; aver- ( 
 
 age of 2 specitiiens j 
 
 George's Creek. Maryland 
 
 'Pittsburg, Pennsylvania 
 
 i'annelton, Indiana 
 
 Black Heath, .lames River, Virginia 
 
 Monroe Co., S. Illinois 
 
 La Salle Co., N Illinois 
 
 Albert Coal, New Orunswick 
 
 Grayson (Ky.) cannel 
 
 Breckenridge (Ky.) cannel 
 
 Boghead, black cannel 
 
 _ Boghead, brown . , 
 
 .W. E. Johnson 1.43 
 
 1.66 
 
 .A. H. Everett 1.31 
 
 .Dr. C. T. Jackson... 1.85 
 1.69 
 
 W. E. Johnson I.SIS 
 
 1.3S 
 
 .B. Silliman, jr.... 
 . VV. R. Johnson.. 
 
 . 1.272 
 
 .J. O. Norwood 1.246 
 
 " 1.23T 
 
 .B.Sillimsn, Jr 1.129 
 
 1.8T1 
 
 " 1.150 
 
 .Dr. Penny 1.213 
 
 " 1.160 
 
 Carbon. 
 
 94.10 
 86.09 
 
 8S.9S 
 91.64 
 89.25 
 85.84 
 87.40 
 
 76.69 
 
 70.75 
 
 64.72 
 69.47 
 58.79 
 58.70 
 55.10 
 86.04 
 14.36 
 27.16 
 9.25 
 7.10 
 
 "Water and 
 
 other 
 
 Vol. Mat. 
 
 1.40 
 6.96 
 
 6 36 
 6.S9 
 2.44 
 10.50 
 6.20 
 
 16.03 
 
 82 95 
 36.59 
 82.57 
 36. '20 
 39.90 
 61.74 
 62.l.;3 
 64.30 
 62 70 
 71.06 
 
 Ashes. 
 
 4.50 
 6.9S 
 
 4.66 
 1.47 
 8.80 
 8.66 
 6.40 
 
 T.83 
 
 13.23 
 
 2.S1 
 3.94 
 8.64 
 4.50 
 3.00 
 2.22 
 23.62 
 8.43 
 26.50 
 26.20 
 
 A complete description of the coals, such 
 as may be found in the Report of Prof. 
 Walter R. Johnson (Senate Document, 28th 
 Congress, No. 386), and presented, in a 
 condensed form, in Johnson's Edition of 
 " Knapp's Chemical Technology," presents 
 many other features affecting the qualities 
 of the coals, and their adaptation to special 
 uses. Such are — 1, their capacity for raising 
 
 steam quickly ; 2, for raising it abundantly 
 for the quantity used; 3, freedom from 
 dense smoke in their combustion; 4, freedom 
 from tendency to crumble in handling ; 5, 
 capacity, by reason of their density, and the 
 shapes assumed by their fragments, of close 
 stowage ; and 6, freedom from sulphur. The 
 last is an important consideration, affecting 
 the value of coals proposed for use in th« 
 
124 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 iron manufacture, sulphur, wliich is often 
 present in coal in the form of sulphuret of 
 iron, having a ver}' injurious effect upon the 
 iron with which it is brought in contact 
 when heated. It is again to be cautiously 
 guarded against in selecting bituminous 
 coals to be employed in steam navigation ; 
 for by the heat generated by spontaneous 
 decomposition of the iron pyrites, the eas- 
 ily ignited bituminous coals may be readily 
 set on lire. This phenomenon is of frequent 
 occurrence in the waste heaps about coal 
 mines, and large bodies of coal stored in 
 
 yards and on board ships have been thus 
 inflamed, involving the most disastrous con- 
 sequences. In stowage capacity coals dif- 
 fer greatly, and this should be attended to 
 in selecting them fur use in long voyages. 
 Tendency to crumble involves Avaste. Dense 
 smoke in consuming is objectionable in coals 
 required for vessels-of-war iu actual service, 
 as it must expose their position when it may 
 be important to conceal it. The following 
 table was prepared by Prof Johnson to pre- 
 sent some of the general results in these 
 particulars of his experiments : — 
 
 GENERAL SCALE OF UELATIVE TALDES FORMED FROM THE AVERAGES OF EACH CLASS OF COAL 
 
 SUBJECTED TO TRIAL. 
 1. 
 
 Maryland free-burning coals 1000 
 
 Pennsylvania anthracite 977 
 
 Pennsylvania bitnniinons 951 
 
 Virginia (James River) bituminous 850 
 
 Foreign bituminous 801 
 
 2. 
 
 8. 
 
 4. 
 
 6. 
 
 1000 
 
 395 
 
 880 
 
 682 
 
 986 
 
 1000 
 
 893 
 
 319 
 
 938 
 
 390 
 
 1000 
 
 914 
 
 757 
 
 242 
 
 948 
 
 730 
 
 741 
 
 331 
 
 948 
 
 1000 
 
 Column 1 gives the relative evaporative 
 powers of equal weights of the coals ; 2, 
 the same of equal bulks ; 3, their relative 
 freedom from tendency to clinker ; 4, rapid- 
 ity of action in evaporating water ; 5, facil- 
 ity of ignition, or readiness with which 
 steam is gotten up. The general results of 
 experience in use, as well as of special trials 
 systematically conducted upon a large scale, 
 agree in these particulars — that while the 
 bituminous coals are valuable for the greater 
 variety of uses to which the}' are applica- 
 ble, and especially for ail purposes requiring 
 flame and a diffusive heat, as under large 
 boilers ; and while they are quickly brought 
 into a state of combustion, rendering the 
 heat they produce more readily available ; 
 the anthracites afford a more condensed and 
 lasting heat, and are to be preferred in many 
 metallurgical operations, especially where 
 great intensity of temperature is required. 
 And for many purposes, the free-burning, 
 semi-bituminous coals, which combine the 
 useful properties of both varieties, are found 
 most economical in use. 
 
 GEOLOGICAL AND GEOGRAPHICAL DISTRIBU- 
 TION. 
 
 The United States is supplied with coal 
 from a number of coal-fields belonging to 
 what are called the true coal-measures, or 
 the carboniferous group, a series of strata 
 sometimes amounting, in aggregate thick- 
 ness, to 2000 and even 300o" feet, and 
 whether found in this country or in Europe, 
 readily recognized by the resemblance in 
 
 the various members of its formation, its 
 fossil organic remains, its mineral accompa- 
 niments, and by its position relative to the 
 other groups of rock which overlie and un- 
 derlie it. The principal one of these fields 
 or basins is that known as the Appalachian, 
 which, commencing in the north-eastern 
 part of Pennsylvania, stretches over nearly 
 all the state west of the main Alleghany 
 ridge, and takes in the eastern portion of 
 Ohio, parts of Maryland, Virginia, Ken- 
 tucky, Tennessee, the north-west corner of 
 Georgia, and extends into Alabama as far as 
 Tuscaloosa. Its total area, including a num- 
 ber of neighboring basins, as those of the 
 anthracite region to the east of the Alle- 
 ghany ridge, which were originally a part of 
 the same great field, is estimated at about 
 70,000 square miles. A second great basin 
 is that which includes the larger part of Il- 
 linois, and the western portion of Indiana 
 and of Kentucky. Its area is estimated at 
 about 50,000 square miles ; the coal is bitu- 
 minous, and largely charged with oil. 
 
 The third coal field, now known as the 
 Rocky Mnuntain Coal Field, is the largest 
 in the world, embracing an area in .Noith 
 America of 1, '250,000 s(|uare miles of'w'hich 
 51.3,<i0o square miles is within the United 
 States. It covers large areas in Texas, the 
 Indian Territory, New Jlexico, Kansas, Ne- 
 braska, Iowa, Dakota, Montana, Wyoming, 
 and Colorado. The coal is semi-bituminous 
 and of good quality. The coal of the Pa- 
 cific Stales is mainly lignite, containing about 
 50 per cent, of carbon, but on Vancouver's 
 
BALTiaoRK COUPAKY'S MINB, WILKESBARKE, PA. 
 
MAP OF THE ANTHRACITE RBGIOIH 
 Copied by permission from Apr 
 
S C O A Z, 
 
 NNS 
 
 1 American Cyclopedia. 
 
THE GREAT OPEN QUARKY OF THE LEHIGH. 
 
 In working this great quarry of anthracite at tlie Summit niiiic, aljore Mauch Chunk, Mocks of coal 
 .\'ere occasionally left stantiing for a time, one of which, surmonuteil by the soil of the original surface and 
 he relics of the vegetation, is represented in the aliove cut. In this block arc discerned the lines of strali- 
 ication of the coal ; and an idea of its extraordinary thickness and extent is conveyed by the appearance of 
 he cliffs upon the further side of tlie excavated area. Upon the floor of the quarry are seen the mining 
 ivagona used for conveying away upon temporary tracks the coal and rulibish of the excavations. 
 
129 
 
 ■whole area of this field has been computed 
 at 57,000 square miles ; but its limits have 
 never been accurately defined. A fourth 
 coal-field occupies the central portion of 
 the southern peninsula of Michigan, its area 
 being about 13,350 square miles. Several 
 small beds of bituminous coal are worked in 
 this district, but they have only local impor- 
 tance. A fifth coal-field is that of Rhode Isl- 
 and and south-eastern Massachusetts. The 
 .strata of this district are considered as be- 
 longing to the true coal-measures, although, 
 from the nietamorphic action to which they 
 have been subjected, their true character is 
 very obscure. The)- contain a few beds of 
 anthracite, very irregular in their dimen- 
 sions, and much crushed. A number of 
 mines have been opened, but the only one 
 now worked is at Portsmouth, 8 miles 
 north of Newport. In south-eastern Vir- 
 ginia is a bituminous coal-field, lying on 
 both sides of the James River, a few miles 
 above Richmond. The strata which contain 
 the coal-beds of this district are recognized 
 as members of later formation than those of 
 the true coal-measures, being classed with 
 the geological group known as the oolite, 
 or lias ; and the coal-beds of central North 
 Carolina, on Deep River, probably belong to 
 the same position in the geological column. 
 Notwithstanding the limited area of this 
 coal-field in Virginia, which is only about 25 
 miles long and 8 to 10 miles wide, it has pro- 
 duced for more than sixty years past large 
 quantities of coal chiefly for the supply of iron 
 manufacturing establishments, and the gas- 
 works along the seaboard to the north. The 
 strata of these coal-measures occupy a deep 
 depression in the granitic rocks of this re- 
 gion, attaining in the centre of the basin a 
 thickness of nearly 2000 feet. They con- 
 sist in great part of a micaceous sand- 
 stone, and the two or three coal-beds are 
 contained in the lower 150 feet. A great 
 bed at the bottom, which in some places 
 exceeds 40 feet in thickness, and in others 
 dwindles away to 4 or 5 feet only, appears 
 to have been deposited upon the uneven 
 granitic floor, from which it is separated by 
 only a few inches of slate. Shafts have been 
 sunk near the east border of the coal-field to 
 the depth of nearly 900 feet. The amount 
 of coal obtained of late 3-ears does not prob- 
 ably exceed 130,000 tons per annum. A 
 singular phenomenon is observed at one 
 point in this district, where a coal-bed is 
 penetrated and overlaid by a body of trap- 
 
 rock. The coal near this rock is converted 
 into a mass of coke, resembling that artifi- 
 cially produced, except that it is more com- 
 pact and of a duller lustre. 
 
 A large amount of bituminous coal has 
 been brought to Boston and New York, for 
 many years past, from a coal -field belonging 
 to the true coal-measures, in Nova Scotia 
 and Cape Breton. The same formation ex- 
 tends into New Brunswick, and ranges along 
 the western part of Newfoundland, and has 
 been estimated as comprising in all an area 
 of 9000 square miles. The productive por- 
 tions, however, are limited to a few locali- 
 ties upon the coast of Nova Scotia and 
 Cape Breton, and at these, beds of great 
 thickness have been opened, and worked to 
 the depth of from 200 to 450 feet. At the 
 Pictou mines, opposite the southern point 
 of Prince Edward's Island, one bed is 29 
 feet thick. Another bed, at the Albion 
 mines, 84 miles from Pictou, aff"ords 24 feet 
 of good coal, and 12 more of inferior quali- 
 ty ; and in Sydney, Cape Breton, are beds of 
 11 feet, 9 feet, and 6 feet, besides at least 
 1 1 others of less thickness. At the South 
 Joggins clifts, in Nova Scotia, the total 
 thickness of all the strata of the coal-meas- 
 ures was found by Mr. Logan to amount to 
 14,571 feet, very much exceeding the thick- 
 ness of the formation as observed in other 
 places on the American continent. 
 
 The strata which make up the coal forma- 
 tion, the principal varieties of which have 
 already been named, are regularly laid one 
 upon another in no particular order, and 
 amount in aggregate thickness to several 
 thousand feet, rarely exceeding in the 
 United States 3000 feet. Their thickness 
 is ascertained by sections measured at dif- 
 ferent localities, some giving one part of the 
 column, and others other portions. In west- 
 ern Pennsylvania the nearly horizontal beds 
 of rock are often exposed in the sides of the 
 precipitous hills, so that sections of several 
 hundred feet may bo fully made up. Any 
 peculiar member of the pile, as a bed of 
 limestone, occurring near the top of the 
 section, may be recognized in other locali- 
 ties, where by the dip of the strata it is 
 brought to the lower levels, and the hills 
 above it then present the succession of the 
 higher members of the column ; or if the 
 layer taken as the starting point be in the 
 one case at the base, it will be found in the 
 direction of the rising of the strata, at higher 
 and hicrher elevations, and the lower mem- 
 
"^^TTr. 
 
 110 Gray »Dd buff 
 
 micaceoua 8 1 a t y 
 
 UodbtODe, 
 
 6 Dark calcnreoos aJata. 
 6 LiueetoDe. 
 
 \ 66 Blue, buff, and 
 i olivtt vbale*. 
 
 18 Dark pray masuva 
 Ban da tone. 
 
 44 Sandatonea and 
 
 Bhalti^ 
 
 Limestone, thin. 
 
 lis Y«llow shale. 
 Hl4 Slaty sandstone. 
 1 17 to 30 Buffshalea. 
 
 3.6 Limestone. 
 
 I Buff shale*. 
 
 ^^ 0.9 Coul 
 / ' •' 20 Sandslona, 
 • /■_/ : 4 Shale. 
 i 1 CoaL 
 
 56 Shales, asDd- 
 stones & limA- 
 
 BtODe^ 
 
 "'„-'- 2 Coal. 
 
 L^^^ 4 Blue friable shala. 
 
 ^^ 6 AVayneaburg coaL 
 Pg & Soft »hale. 
 
 3S Gray sandstone. 
 
 69 Variegated shale* 
 and aaDdatona. 
 
 0.4 Limestone. 
 
 3 Limestone. 
 
 15 Shale A aandstonfl. 
 
 'J LinteHtone. 
 
 18 Dark gruy shale. 
 1 (.Vu.1. 
 
 12 Shale A limestone. 
 15 to 25 Thin bedded 
 3 Limestone, [aandsln. 
 
 42 Blue shale and 
 aundstoutt. 
 
 .0.10 Coal. 
 Blue and buff shales 
 13 Flaggy sandittonea. 
 
 S Limestone. 
 10 Shale. 
 
 SO Flatly aandatoiNk 
 
 10 Shale. 
 
 18 Limestone. 
 
 5 Black slate. 
 
 18 Slaty sandatone. 
 
 8 Black calcareoQ* 
 
 alat«. 
 16 Limestone. 
 
 20 Shale. 
 
 25 Gray slaty sand- 
 ■toae. 
 
 35 Brown shale. 
 14 Pittsburg coal. 
 
 60 Shales, calcareoua 
 aod arenaceous. 
 
 f^^m 
 
 60 to 70 Calcareous and 
 abalv beds, slaty 
 aamiiituue, Ac 
 
 Green and olive ahklek 
 
 150 to 200 Greenlak 
 elate A sandstone. 
 
 /■-> - "ii l" to U Gray mica- ^=^ 
 
 '-'''■ - ''^i-l ceoua sandstone. ■ - • - 
 
 «en, pnrole, • 
 rown shale. 
 
 I to & Limeatona. 
 
 7^40 to 80 Sandstone A 
 ^ green shale. 
 
 ssm 
 
 70 to 1.10 Slates, shale^ 
 and sandstones. 
 
 3.6 Up'r Freeport coal. 
 4 to 7 Limestone. 
 
 W to 40 Slate and 
 slaty aauilstone. 
 
 3 Lower Freeport coat 
 often cannel. 
 
 60 to 60 Massive sand, 
 stone. 
 
 15 Slat«, shale, or sandi 
 stone. 
 
 3 to4 Kittanningcoal 
 
 30 Slate, shale, oi 
 
 siindatoiie. 
 0.4 to 6 Iron ore, 
 15 Ferriferous lime. 
 
 30 Slate and shale. 
 
 ^* 3 to 4 Clarion coaL 
 
 _, -^zi:""^ ;25 Slate and shale. 
 
 i=t^' ' I . - I 
 
 ■MKMSiaBMi to 2 Itrookvillacoal. 
 
 ■77^ 
 
 '^ih--- 
 
 Mercer or lioneata co«l. ^ 
 Coal 1.3 
 Coal 1 
 Cool 1.3 
 
 60 to 60 Massive sand- 
 elone. 
 
 S to 1h Brown A black 
 
 slxile. 
 1 to4 
 
 15 Shale and sand- 
 
 16 Shale and sand- 
 
 15 Shale and saiid- 
 8 lone. 
 
 15 Shale and sand- 
 stone. 
 
 100 Sandatone nnd 
 conglomerate. 
 
 20 Slaty sandstone. 
 1 to 4 Sharon eoaL 
 
131 
 
 bers of the column will then be brought 
 into view at the base of the hills. Thus, at 
 Pittsburg, the hills opposite the city afford 
 a section of 300 or 400 feet, and the marked 
 stratum is here the great coal-bed, which up 
 the Alleghany river toward the north rises 
 to higher and higher levels in the hills, and 
 toward the south, up the Monongahela, sinks 
 to lower levels, till it passes beneath the bed 
 of the stream. By extending these obser- 
 vations over the coal-field, it is found that 
 the whole series of strata maintain their 
 general arrangement, and the principal mem- 
 bers of the group, such as an important coal- 
 bed, a peculiar bed of limestone, etc., may be 
 identifitd over areas of thousands of square 
 miles. It is thus the sections have been pre- 
 pared at many localities to complete the 
 series, as presented on the opposite page, 
 of the bituminous coal-measures of the ex- 
 treme western part of Pennsylvania. The 
 coal-beds introduced are those which are 
 persistent over the greatest areas. Others 
 occasionally appear in different parts of the 
 column, and various other local difi'erences 
 may be detected, owing to the irregularities 
 in the stratification; thus sandstones and 
 slates often thin out, and even gradually 
 pass from one into the other. By their 
 thinning out beds of coal separated by them 
 in one locality may come together in another, 
 and form one large bed ; and again, large coal- 
 beds may be split by hardly perceptible di- 
 visional seams of slate or shale, which maj- 
 gradually increase, till they become thick 
 strata, separating what was one coal-bed 
 into two or more. The limestones, though 
 generally thin, maintain their peculiar char- 
 acters much better than the great beds of 
 sandstone or shale, and are consequently 
 the best guides for designating in the col- 
 umns the position of the strata which ac- 
 company them, above and below. The fire 
 clay is almost universally the underlying 
 stratum of the coal-beds. In the sections 
 it is not distinguished from the shale-beds. 
 The total thickness of all the measures, is 
 from 2000 to 2500 feet. 
 
 Such is the general system of the coal- 
 bearinjr formation west of the Alledhan- 
 ies. Every farm and every hill in the coal- 
 field is likely to contain one or more beds 
 of coal, of limestone, of good sandstone for 
 building purposes, of fire clay, and some 
 iron ore ; and below the surface, the series is 
 continued down to the group of conglom- 
 erates and sandstones, which come up 
 
 around the margins of the coal-fields and 
 define their limits. At Pittsburg this 
 group, it is found by boring, as well as by 
 the measurements of the strata in the hills 
 toward the north, is about 600 feet below 
 the level of the river. The coal-measures 
 in this portion of the country are the high- 
 est rock formation ; but in the western terri- 
 tories beyond the Mississippi they pa.ss 
 under later geological groups, as the creta- 
 ceous and the tertiary. All the coals are 
 bituminous, and the strata in which they are 
 found are little moved from the horizontal 
 position in which they were originally de- 
 posited. They have been uplifted with the 
 continent itself, and have not been subjected 
 to any local disturbences, such as in other 
 regions have disarranged and metamorphosed 
 the strata. 
 
 East of the AUeghanies, in the narrow, 
 elongated coal-fields of the anthracite re- 
 gion, a marked diflxjrence is perceived in the 
 position assumed by the strata, and also ia 
 the character of the individual beds. They 
 evidently belong to the same geological se- 
 ries as the bituminous coal-measures, and 
 the same succession of conglomerates, sand- 
 stones, and red shales, is recognized below 
 them ; but the strata have been tilted at va- 
 rious angles from their original horizontal 
 position, and the formation is broken up and 
 distributed in a number of basins, or canal- 
 shaped troughs, separated from each other 
 by the lower rocks, which, rising to the 
 surface, form long narrow ridges outside of 
 and around each coal-field. Those on each 
 side being composed of the same rocks, sim- 
 ilarly arranged, and all having been sub- 
 jected to similar denuding action, a striking 
 resemblance is observed, even on the map, 
 in their outlines ; and in the ridges them- 
 selves this is so remarkable that their shapes 
 alone correctly suggest at once to those fa 
 miliar with the geology of the country, the 
 rocks of which they are composed. Upon 
 the accompanying map, from the first vol. of 
 the "New American Cyclopaedia," these ba- 
 sins are represented by the shaded portions, 
 and the long, narrow ridges which surround 
 the basins, and meet in a sharp curve at their 
 ends, are indicated by the groups of four 
 parallel lines. Within the marginal hills 
 the strata of the coal-measures, and of the 
 underlying formations, while retaining their 
 arrangement in parallel sheets, are raised 
 upon their edges and thrown into undulat- 
 ing lines and sharp flexures ; and the extrac- 
 
132 
 
 MININO INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 tion of the coal, instead of being con- 
 ducted by levels driven into tbe side 
 of tbe hills, is effected by means of 
 inclined shafts following down the 
 course of the beds from the surface, 
 or by vertical slopes sunk so as to 
 cut them at considerable depths. The 
 arrangement of the strata in its gen- 
 eral features is represented in the ac- 
 companying wood cuts. Fig. 1 is a 
 section from Sharp Mountain, on the 
 south side of the Mauch Chunk sum- 
 mit mine, across this great body of 
 coal, and the higher coal-beds of the 
 formation repeatedly brought to the 
 surface by their changes of dip, to 
 Locust Mountain, which bounds the 
 basin on the north. Fig. 2 is a sec- 
 tion across the same basin at Ta- 
 maqua, six miles west from Mauch 
 Chunk mine. In this section it is 
 seen how the coal-measures are sepa- 
 rated into basins by the lower rocks 
 coming up to the surface and forming 
 anticlinal axes. Fig. 3 represents the 
 position of single beds, as they occur 
 among the slates and sandstones, and 
 the manner in which they are some- 
 times reached by means of a tunnel 
 driven in from the base of the hill. 
 The curved portion of the coal at 
 the top is formed by the coal-beds 
 at their outcrop becoming disinte- ' 
 grated, and their fragments and de- 
 composed smut being spread down 
 the slope of the hill. The Eoman 
 numerals, "IX," "X," "XI," "XII," 
 in fig. 2, designate the lower forma- 
 tions of rock, known respectively as 
 the red sandstones (corresponding to 
 the "Old Red Sandstone"); a series of 
 gray sandstones ; one of red shales ; and 
 lastly, the conglomerate. The dotted lines 
 above and below the section mark the con- 
 tinuity of the conglomerate beneath the base 
 of the section and its original course above 
 the present surface before this portion had 
 been removed by diluvial action. The other 
 
 «5| 
 
 
 SO 
 
 v^ 
 
 *! 
 tj 
 
 
 t 
 
 formations obviously accompany the con- 
 glomerate with sirail.ir flexures. 
 
 The same cause, that threw the strata into 
 their inclined and contorted positions, no 
 doubt changed the character of the coal by 
 dispelling its volatile portions, converting 
 it in fact into coke, while the pressure 
 of the superincumbent beds of rock pre- 
 
COAL. 
 
 133 
 
 vented the swelling up of the material, as 
 occurs in the ordinary process of producing 
 coke from bituminous coal, and caused it to 
 assume the dense and compact structure of 
 anthracite. As the anthracite basins are 
 traced westward, it is observed that the 
 coals in those districts which have been less 
 disturbed, retain somewhat of the bitumin- 
 ous character; and if the continuity were 
 uninterrupted between the anthracite and 
 the bituminous coal-fields, there is no doubt 
 that a gradual passage would be observed 
 from the one kind of coal to the other, and 
 that this would be accompanied by an amount 
 of disturbance in the strata corresponding 
 to the degree in which the coal is deficient 
 in bitumen. 
 
 AMOUNT OF AVAILABLE COAL. 
 
 In estimating the quantities of workable 
 coal in any district, several points are to be 
 taken into consideration besides the amount 
 of surface covered by the coal-measures and 
 the aggregate thickness of all the beds they 
 contain. Out of the total number of coal- 
 beds, there are more or less of them that 
 must be excluded from the estimate, on ac- 
 count of their being too thin to work. The 
 great depth at which the lower beds in the 
 central parts of the Appalachian coal-field 
 lie must probably prevent their ever being 
 worked ; but for this no allowance is ever 
 made in the estimates of quantities of coal. 
 
 The most careful and complete computa- 
 tions of this nature which have been made 
 are those of Professor H. D. Rogers, and of 
 Mr. Bannan in the Coal Statistical Register 
 for 1871. From these sources we obtain 
 the following estimates : 
 
 EXTENT OF COAL-FIELD IN THE SEVERAL STATES 
 POSSESSING THE COAL FORMATION. 
 
 Sq. miles. 
 
 Massachusetts and Rhode Island 100 
 
 Pennsylvania 12,656 
 
 Ohio 7,100 
 
 Maryland 550 
 
 Virginia 15,900 
 
 Kentucky 13,700 
 
 Tennessee 3,700 
 
 Alabama 6,130 
 
 Georgia 170 
 
 Indiana 6,700 
 
 Illinois 40,000 
 
 Michigan 13,350 
 
 Iowa 24,000 
 
 Missouri 21 ,329 
 
 Nebraska 84,000 
 
 Kansas 80,000 
 
 Arkansas 12,597 
 
 Indian Territory 40,000 
 
 Texas 30,000 
 
 New Mexico 20,000 
 
 Wyoming 20,000 
 
 Colorado 20,000 
 
 Montana 74,000 
 
 Dakota 100,000 
 
 Total 650,862 
 
 In the anthracite basins of Pennsylvania 
 the number of workable beds varies from 2 
 or 3 to 25, according to the depth of the 
 basin ; the average number is supposed to be 
 10 or 12. The maximum thickness of coal 
 is in the Pottsville basin, and amounts to 
 207 feet. Rejecting the thin seams, the 
 average thickness in the south anthracite 
 field is reckoned at 100 feet; in the middle 
 or north field at about 60 feet ; and the gen- 
 eral average of the whole, 70 feet. 
 
 The maximum thickness of the 15 or 16 
 coal-beds of the central part of the Appala- 
 chian coal-field is about 40 feet, but the 
 average of the whole basin is considered to 
 be 25 feet. 
 
 The basin extending over Illinois an^ 
 into Indiana and Kentucky, contains in the 
 last-named state 16 or 17 workable beds, 
 with a maximum thickness of about 50 feet 
 The average over the whole area is supposed 
 to be 20 or 25 feet. 
 
 The following estimates of the British. 
 coal-fields are introduced for comparison. 
 Extending these computations to Belgium 
 and France also, the result of calculations of 
 available coal supply, in 1870, are as follows : 
 
 RELATIVE AMOUNT OF COAL IN THE SEVERAL GREAT COAL-FIELDS OF EUROPE AND AMERICA. 
 
 Batio. 
 
 Belgium (assuming an average thickness of about 60 fbet of coal) contains 
 
 about 36,000,000,000 1 
 
 France (with same thickness) contains about 59,000,000,000 1.64 
 
 The British Islands (averaging 35 feet thickness) contain neariy 190,000,000,000 5.28 
 
 Pennsylvania (averaging 25 feet thickness) contains 316,400,000,000 8.8 
 
 The great Appalachian coalfield (including Pennsylvania, averaging 25 feet). 1,387,500,000,000 38.5 
 
 Coal-field of Indiana, Illinois, and western Kentucky (average thickness 25 ft). 1,277,500,000,000 35.5 
 
 The Rocky Mountain basin (averaging 30 feet) 3,739,000,000,000 10.29 
 
 All the productive coal-fields of North America (with an assumed thickness 
 
 of 20 feet of coal, and a productive area of 200,000 sq. miles) 6,720,400,000,000 186. 
 
 AH the coal-fields of Europe 8.75 
 
 The following table contains the yearly I States, from the commencement of the trtwie 
 returns of the coal product of the United I in 1820 : 
 
5?d 
 
 Total consumption of Anthracite and Bituminous Coal in the 
 United States. 
 
 Illlfl I 
 
 ililli § 
 
 
 Aggregate of Bituminous mined in otlier portions of the United gg|gg| g 
 States, not included in this table. .- - ' - - 
 
 KO O 
 
 ^11 
 
 SS 2 -OS 5 S3 3 "5 
 
 
 2T,298 
 88,110 
 136,278 
 6;i, 19;i 
 417,9,0 
 890,630 
 397.210 
 667,517 
 
 218,801 
 
 
 ^Z ^''"-•«-"'«-" 
 
 1 
 
 
 S5 
 
 "s'SBiiSil's 
 
 uMimm 
 
 i.gsp.p.p.si 
 
 si.=3sS3§ls.,3 
 
 21,109.575 
 
 5,477.025 
 5,y31,63h 
 
 7, 552,99(5 
 7,849,085 
 7.810,810 
 7.976, IMU 
 9,026,682 
 
 67.248,670 
 10.236, 17t. 
 9.S76,017 
 9,706,771. 
 11,883,36;". 
 1 2,599, 9tl 
 12.110,92;: 
 15,455,581 
 15,b«fi,77; 
 17.545,0»i 
 18,308,31t 
 
 ?:4 
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 S 
 
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 a « oo a> PI m r- -f M in r» c 
 
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 f5 "■• r|tJo V< M_?3 
 
 P5 CD to ?i ?f — sT -sT r;" 31 - 
 
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136 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATICS. 
 
 TRANSPORTATION OF COAL TO MARKET. 
 
 The first anthracite from the Schuylkill 
 mines was brought to Philadelphia in wag- 
 ons. The navigation of the river and canal 
 was hardly practicable for boats previous to 
 the year 1822; and though from that year 
 anthracite was conveyed to Philadelphia and 
 the trade continued to increase, it was not 
 until 1825 that a large amount of coal could 
 be transported by this route. The effect of 
 these improvements was experienced in the 
 transportation of 6,500 tons in 1825 ; in 1826 
 it increased to 16,763. As for successive 
 years the trade steadily and rapidly increased 
 in importance, the capacity of the canal 
 proved at last insufficient for it, and the 
 Reading railroad was laid out for its accom- 
 modation, and constructed with a uniform 
 descending grade from the mining region at 
 Pottsville to the Delaware river. It was 
 opened in 1841, and proved a formidable 
 competitor to the Schuylkill canal, but the 
 increasing trade has surpassed the capacity 
 of both these routes. Other lines have been 
 constructed, till now there are six or seven 
 railroads engaged almost exclusively in the 
 transportation of the anthracite and semi- 
 anthracite coals from the mines. 
 
 As seen by the table, the first shipments 
 of anthracite were from the Lehigh region, 
 two years before any were sent from the 
 Schuylkill. The transportation was effected 
 by arks or large boxes built of plank, and 
 run down the rapid and shoal river with no 
 little risk. To return with them was im- 
 practicable, nor was this desired, for the 
 arks themselves were constructed of the 
 product of the forests, which in this form 
 was most conveniently got to market. As 
 the coal trade increased in importance, the 
 Lehigh Coal and Navigation Company, to 
 insure greater facility in running the arks, 
 constructed dams across the shoaler places 
 in the river, by which the water was held 
 back, thus increasing the depth above. As 
 the arks coming down the river reached one 
 of these dams, the sluice gates were opened 
 and the boats descended to the next dam be- 
 low. At first two arks were connected to- 
 gether by hinges at the ends ; subsequently 
 more were tlms joined together, till they 
 reached nearly 200 feet in length. In 1831 
 the slack-water navigation of the Lehigh 
 was so far perfected, that it was used by 
 canal boats ascending and descending through 
 regular locks. 
 
 Up to the year 1827 the transportation 
 
 of anthracite to Mauch Chunk, nine mOes 
 from the mines, was by wagons. The Mauch 
 Chunk road, completed in May, 1827, was 
 made with a descending grade, averaging 
 about 100 feet to the mile, so tliat the loaded 
 cars ran down by gravity. Each train car- 
 ried down with it in cars appropriated to 
 this use the mules for drawing the empty 
 cars back ; and it is stated that after the 
 animals once became accustomed to the rou- 
 tine of their duties they could never be made 
 to travel down the road if accidentally left 
 behind. The trade before many years out- 
 grew these increased facilities of transport- 
 ing the coal, and it was found essential to 
 return the empty cars by some more econom- 
 ical method. On account of the heavy up- 
 grade, locomotives, it was concluded, could 
 not be advantageously employed, and hence 
 a system of inclined planes and gravity 
 roads was devised, by which the cars hoisted 
 by stationary power to the summit of the 
 planes and thence descending the gravity 
 roads might be returned to the mines. In 
 the accomjianying sketches a part of this ar- 
 rangement of roads is exhibited. 
 
 The high hill called Mount Pisgah, above 
 the village of Mauch Cluuik, is the terminat- 
 ing point at the Lehigh river of the long 
 ridge called Sharp Mountain. The lower 
 road seen in the sketch is called the loaded 
 track. The cars come by this from the 
 mines,and being letdown the inclined plane 
 at its terminus, their loads are discharged in- 
 to the great bins over the edge of the i iver. 
 They are then hauled a short distance to the 
 foot of the long plane that reaches to the 
 summit of Mount Pisgah, and by the sta- 
 tionary steam engine are drawn up in about 
 six minutes to an elevation 850 feet above 
 that at the foot. The length of this plane 
 is 2250 feet. From its summit the empty 
 cars run down the inclined road constructed 
 along the south side of the ridge, and at the 
 distance of six miles, having descended about 
 300 feet, they reach the foot of another in- 
 clined plane at Mount Jefferson. This plane 
 is 2070 feet long, rising 462 feet. The as- 
 cent is accomplished in three minutes, and 
 from the top another gravity road extends 
 about a mile, descending 44 feet to the Sum- 
 mit Hill village. From this point branch 
 roads lead to the different mines in Panther 
 Creek valley, and all meet again in the 
 loaded track road by which the cars return 
 to Mauch Chunk. 
 
 The transportation of coal from Mauch 
 Chunk was conduct id by the river and canal 
 
MOUNT PISGAH PLANE, MADCH CHUNK, Pa. 
 
COLLIERY SLOPE AND B. EAKER AT TUSCAROKA, PA. 
 
COAL. 
 
 139 
 
 MOUNT PISGAU PLANES AND THE GKAVITY RAILKOAD, MAUCH CHDSK. 
 
 exclusively until the partial construction of 
 the Lehiffh railroad in 1846. But it was 
 not until its completion in 1855, that this 
 began to be an important outlet of the coal 
 region and a powerful competitor for the 
 trade with the canal. 
 
 A considerable amount of anthracite finds 
 a market on the borders of Chesapeake Bay, 
 being transported from the mines near the 
 Susquehanna river by the Susquehanna tide- 
 water canal, and by the Northern Central 
 railroad. Its consumption is extending in 
 this region by its use in the blast furnaces 
 in the place of charcoal, for smelting iron 
 ores, and the receipts of this fuel in the city 
 of Baltimore are about one-si.xth of those of 
 the semi-bituminous coals of the Cumber- 
 land region, which are brought to the city 
 by the Baltimore and Ohio railroad and the 
 canal. The receipts during the years named 
 below were as follows : 
 
 1857. 
 Tons. 
 
 Bituminous 443,782 
 
 Anthracite 267,334 
 
 1860. 
 
 Tons. 
 897,684 
 325,129 
 
 18C9. 1870. 
 
 Tons Tons. 
 
 1,882,619 1,717,075 
 270,240 305,494 
 
 701,116 722,813 2,152,909 2.022,571 
 
 The principal outlet of the Northern coal- 
 field had been from 1829 to 1850 by the 
 Delaware and Hudson canal. Since 1847 
 there have been taken every year to the 
 Hudson river by this route from about 
 44",0U0 to 499,650 tons, except in 18.55, 
 when the quantity was 565,460 tons. A 
 number of railroads now connect this basin 
 with the central railroad across northern 
 New Jersey, and in other directions it is 
 connected both by railroad and canals with 
 the Erie railroad to the North and the Sus- 
 quehanna river to the South-west. As large 
 an amount of coal is now transported over 
 each one of three of these lines as by the 
 Delaware and Hudson canal. 
 
 The various railroads and canals which 
 have been constructed with especial refer- 
 ence to the transportation of anthracite, are 
 more than 48 in number, and have cost 
 over $260,000,000. Most of them are pre- 
 sented in the following table; of some of 
 them only those portions which may fairly 
 be counted as constructed for coal pur- 
 poses : — 
 
140 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OK THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Name.s of railroads and canals. 
 
 Canals. 
 No. miles. 
 
 Leliij^h Navigation , 87 
 
 L lii;;!! an i Susquehanna railroad and branches 
 
 M incli Cluiiik and Siunnii: railroads 
 
 Dijlaw.irv' division of the l\iiusylvania canal 43 
 
 B aver Meadow railroad and Ijranch 
 
 H.i/.leton railroad 
 
 Philadelphia and Krie railroad 
 
 Summit railroad 
 
 L'ihinli Valley railroad and branches 
 
 Dclaw irj aid Hudson canal lOS 
 
 Morris c mal 1 02 
 
 Tlu Schuylkill Navigation 108 
 
 II ading railroad and branches 
 
 Sliamiikin and Pottsville Valley railroad and branch 
 
 Little Scluiylkill railroad 
 
 Dniville and I'ottsville railroad (44^ miles unfinished) 
 
 Mine Hill and Schuylkill Haven railroad and branches 
 
 Mount Carbon railroad and branches 
 
 Port Carbon railroad and branches 
 
 Schuylkill Valley railroad and branches 
 
 Mill Creek railroad and branches 
 
 Lvkens Valley railroad , 
 
 Wieonisco canal 12 
 
 Swat ira railroad 
 
 North Branch canal 163 
 
 Union canal and Pine Grove branch 90 
 
 Schuylkill and Susquehanna railroad 
 
 Northern Central railroad 
 
 Pennsylvania railroad and branches 338 
 
 Sns(|uehanna tidewater canal 45 
 
 York and Cumberland railroad 
 
 Cumberland Valley railroad 
 
 Franklin railroad 
 
 Nesquchoning railroad 
 
 Room Run railway 
 
 Delaware, Lackawanna, and Western railroad 
 
 Lackawanna and Bloonisburg railroad 
 
 North Pennsvlvania 
 
 Catawissa, WiUiamsjiort, and Erie railroad 
 
 Elmira and Williamsport 
 
 Pennsylvania Coal Company's railro.id 
 
 New Jersey Central railroad 
 
 Railroads by individuals 
 
 Other coal railroads 
 
 Railroads. 
 No. miles, 
 
 193 
 36 
 
 38 
 20 
 
 288 
 
 2 
 
 238 
 
 153 
 34 
 32 
 34 
 
 143 
 13 
 14 
 30 
 32 
 
 215 
 
 55 
 142 
 
 44 
 
 81 
 
 45 
 
 28 
 
 6 
 
 116 
 
 82 
 
 66 
 
 68 
 
 78 
 
 63 
 
 1.34 
 
 120 
 
 1117 
 
 Total cost, 
 
 $4,455,000 
 13,570,595 
 831,684 
 1,734,958 
 360,000 
 253,000 
 20,000,000 
 60,000 
 20,000,000 
 3,2.50,000 
 4,000,000 
 5,785,000 
 29,822,729 
 1,569.450 
 1,466,187 
 1,895,000 
 3,775,000 
 203,260 
 282,350 
 576,0.50 
 323,375 
 975,868 
 370,000 
 41,780 
 3,790,310 
 1 ,000,000 
 1,300,000 
 12,400,000 
 29,761,5.33 
 1,000,000 
 3,300,000 
 1,692,111 
 1,643,128 
 500,000 
 40,000 
 13,988,876 
 3,753,130 
 6,669,991 
 3,745,096 
 2,692,000 
 2,745,500 
 18,034,675 
 1,180,000 
 37,500,000 
 
 Total L096 3,746 $261,435,646 
 
 COAL MINING. 
 
 Coal-beds are discovered and worked by 
 different methods, varying according to the 
 circumstances under which they occur. In 
 regions where they lie among the piles of 
 strata horizontally arranged, and passing 
 with the other members of the group upon 
 a level or nearly so through the hills, their 
 exact position is often detected by their ex- 
 posure in the precipitous walls of rock along 
 the livers ; or it is indicated by peculiar in- 
 dentations, known as "benches," around their 
 line of outcrop, caused by their crumbling 
 and wearing away more rapidly than the 
 harder strata above and below them ; and 
 again by the recurrence of springs of water 
 
 and wet places at the foot of the benches, 
 which point to an impervious stratum with- 
 in the hill that prevents the water percolat- 
 ing any further down ; and lastly, in the 
 little gorges worn by the " runs," the beds 
 are often uncovered, and loose pieces of coal 
 washed down lead to their original source 
 above. However discovered, the method of 
 working them is simple. A convenient place 
 is selected upon the side of a hill, and an ex- 
 cavation called a drift, usually about four 
 feet wide, is made into the coal-bed. The 
 height of the drift is governed by the thick- 
 ness of the coal-bed and the nature of the 
 overlying slate. Miners sometimes work in 
 drifts only 2^ feet high. Coal-beds three or 
 four feet thick are very common, and are 
 
COAL. 
 
 141 
 
 worked without the necessity of removing the 
 overhanging slate, unless it is too unsound 
 to serve as a roof. Beds of ten feet thick- 
 ness or more require much additional care 
 over those of smaller size, both in removing 
 the coal and supporting the roof; and in 
 many cases it is found expedient to leave a 
 portion of the bed, either at the top or bot- 
 tom, untouched, especially if the upper lay- 
 ers contain, as they often do, sound sheets of 
 slate. At the entrance of the mines, and in 
 general in all places where the cover is not 
 sound, the materials overhead are prevented 
 from falling by timbers across the top of the 
 drifts, rudely framed into posts set up against 
 the walls on each side ; and where the strata 
 are very loose, slabs are driven in over tlie 
 cross timbers and behind the posts. In such 
 ground the coal cannot be excavated over 
 large areas without leaving frequent pillars 
 of coal and introducing great numbers of 
 posts or props. But previous to abandon- 
 ing the mine the pillars may be removed, 
 commencing with those furthest in, and all 
 the strata above arc thus allowed to settle 
 gradually down. When drifts or gangways 
 have been extended into the coal-beds far 
 enough to be under good cover, branches 
 arc commenced at right angles, and a system 
 of chambers is laid fiut for excavation, leav- 
 ing sufficient blocks or pillars of coal to pro- 
 vide for the support of the overlying strata. 
 Thus the work is carried on, ventilation be- 
 ing secured by connections made within the 
 hill with gangways passing out in different 
 directions, and sometimes also by shafts 
 sunk from the surface above, or, when those 
 means are not practicable, by ventilating 
 fans worked by hand, and thus forcing air 
 through long wooden boxes which lead into 
 the interior of the mine. Drainage is often 
 a serious trouble, ami unless the strata slope 
 toward the outlet of the mine, it can be ef- 
 fected only by a channel cut to the required 
 depth for the water to flow out, or else by 
 the use of pumping machinery. When the 
 strata lie nearly upon a horizontal plane, it 
 is very common for a slight descent to be 
 found from the exterior of a hill toward its 
 centre, as if the beds of rock had been com- 
 pressed and settled by their greater weight 
 in the middle of the hill. In such positions 
 the coal is extracted with much expense for 
 drainage, and it is therefore an important 
 consideration in judging of the value of coal- 
 beds to ascertain whether or no the water 
 will flow freely out from the excavations. In 
 
 the bituminous coal-fields west of the Alle- 
 ghanies, owing to the general distribution of 
 the coal-beds above the level of the water- 
 courses, it has not yet been found worth 
 while to work any of the beds that are 
 known to lie below this level. Coal must 
 reach a much higher value before beds of 
 the moderate size of those in that region can 
 be profitably explored below water level. 
 
 It is rare that bituminous coal is obtained 
 by open quarrying. Where the beds lie 
 near the surface, so that they might be un- 
 covered, the coal is almost invariably in a 
 rotten condition and worthless. Conse- 
 quently one of the first points to be assured 
 of in judging of the value of a coal-bed is 
 that it has sufticient rock cover. After this 
 may be considered the quality of the coal, 
 its freedom from sulphur, etc., the sound- 
 ness of its roof, and the facilities oft'ered for 
 drainage and ventilation. The quality of a 
 coal bed undergoes little or no change after 
 it is once reached under good cover beyond 
 atmospheric influences ; and hence no en- 
 couragement can be given to continue to 
 work a poor bed in hopes of its improving. 
 
 Coal is excavated chiefly by light, slender 
 picks. With one of these a miner makes a 
 shallow, horizontal cut as far as he can reach 
 under the wall of coal before hira, stretching 
 himself out upon the floor to do this work, 
 and then he proceeds to make a vertical cut 
 extending from each end of that along the 
 floor up to the roof. By another horizontal 
 cut along the roof, a cubical block of coal is 
 thus entirely separated from the bed, except 
 on the back side which cannot be reached. 
 The separation is completed by wedges 
 driven into the upper crevice, or sometimes 
 by small charges of powder. By this means 
 blocks of coal are thrown down amounting 
 to 70 or 80 tons in weight, and with the 
 least possible loss by the reduction of por- 
 tions of it to dust and fine coal. 
 
 The cost of mining and delivering coal at 
 the mouth of the mines, varies with the size 
 and character of the beds. Under the most 
 favorable conditions the horizontal beds of 
 bituminous coal, as those in the hills oppo- 
 site Pittsburg, have been worked and the 
 coai delivered outside for H cents a bushel, 
 or 45 cents a ton ; but in general the total 
 expenses are nearly double this rate. In es- 
 timating the capacity of production of coal- 
 beds it is usual to allow a ton of coal to 
 every cubic yard, and a bed of coal a yard 
 thick should consequently contain a ton to 
 
142 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 every square yard, or 4840 tons to the acre : 
 but the actual product that can be depended 
 on, after the loss by fine coal, by pillars left 
 standing, etc., may not safely be reckoned at 
 more than 3000 tons, or for every foot thick- 
 ness of the bed 1000 tons. 
 
 In the anthracite region, and in other coal 
 districts where the beds are of large size and 
 lie at various degrees of inclination with the 
 horizon, the methods of mining differ more 
 or less from those described. The anthra- 
 cite beds frequently extend in parallel lay- 
 ers longitudinally through the long ridges, 
 dipping, it may be, nearly with the out- 
 er slope, and descending to great depths 
 below the surface. In such positions they 
 are conveniently reached at the ends of the 
 ridges and in the gaps across these, by a 
 level driven on the course of the bed, and 
 rising just enough for the water to drain 
 freely. A level or gangway of this sort is 
 the great road of the mine, by which all the 
 coal is to be brought out in case other sim- 
 ilar gangways are not driven into the same 
 bed at points further up or down its slope. 
 Unless the dip is very gentle, one at the 
 lowest point should be sufficient. At dif- 
 ferent points along its extension passage- 
 ways are cut in the coal, directed at right 
 angles up the slope of the bed, and as soon 
 as one of them can be brought tiirough to 
 the surface, a ventilating current of air is 
 established, which may afterward be divert- 
 ed through all the workings. The passage- 
 ways together with other levels above divide 
 the coal-bed into great blocks, and also serve 
 as shutcs by which the coal excavated above 
 is sent down to the main gangway. At the 
 bottom of each shute a bin is constructed 
 for arresting the coal and discharging it, as 
 required, into the wagons which are run in 
 beneath on the tracks laid for this purpose. 
 Coal-beds in this position are also worked 
 from the gangwaj' by broad excavations car- 
 ried up the " breast" or face of the bed, suf- 
 ficient pillars of coal from 12 to 25 feet long 
 being left in either case to support the roof. 
 These pillars usually occupy the most room 
 just above the gangways, and on passing up 
 between them, the chambers are made to 
 ■widen out till they attain a breadth of about 
 40 feet, and tlius the breast is extended up 
 to the next level. Props are introduced 
 wherever required to support the roof, and 
 the rubbish, slates, etc., are stacked up for 
 tlie same purpose, as well as to get them out 
 of the way. 
 
 It often occurs that coal beds within the 
 ridges can be reached only by a tunnel 
 driven in from the side of the mountain 
 across their line of bearing. Tunnels of this 
 kind are sometimes extended till they cut 
 two or more parallel coal-beds. Each one 
 may then be worked by gangways leaving 
 the tunnel at right angles and following the 
 coal-beds, and the tunnel continues to be 
 the main outlet of them all. 
 
 When it is desirable to obtain the coal 
 from the portion of the bed below the level 
 of the gangway, preparations must first be 
 made for raising the water, which may be 
 done for a time by bucket and windlass, and 
 as the slope is carried down and the flow of 
 water increases, then by mining pumps 
 worked by horse or steam power. The 
 slope may commence from the exterior sur- 
 face or from the lower gangway of a mine 
 already in operation, and is made large 
 enough to admit wagons, which ascend and 
 descend upon two tracks extending down its 
 floor. At the depth of 200 or 300 feet 
 a gangw'ay is driven at right angles with 
 the slope in each direction on the course of 
 the bed, and from this the workings are car- 
 ried up the breast as already described. 
 Other gangways are started at lower levels 
 of lOU feet or more each, dividing the 
 mine into so many stories or floors. The 
 coal above each gangway is sent down to 
 its level and is received into wagons. By 
 these it is conveyed to the slope, and here 
 running upon a turn-table, each wagon is 
 set upon the track in the slope and is imme- 
 diately taken by the steam engine to the sur- 
 face, another car at the same time coming 
 down on the other track. Reservoirs are 
 constructed upon the different levels to ar- 
 rest the water, that it ma_v not all have to 
 be raised up from the bottom, and the 
 pumps are constructed so as to lift the wa- 
 ter from the lower into the higlier reservoirs 
 and thence to tlie surface. Many mines of 
 this character are opened from the surface, 
 one of which is represented in the cut of the 
 " Colliery Slope and Breaker, at Tuscarora, 
 Pennsylvania." An empty wagon is seen in 
 this cut descending the track from the en- 
 gine house down into the mouth of the pit, 
 and through the end of the building pass- 
 es the pump rod which by means of a vi- 
 brating " bob" is turned down the pit and 
 works by the side of the track. The men 
 pass down into the mines of this character, 
 sometimes by the wagons, and sometimes by 
 
IMiElLMIMN 
 
 ISBEAKlXli UFF AND UlAlUXfl I'OAl,. 
 
 UliAUlMl llUl L.JAl. H IILUK lUKUl. I.S NUT hUFFIC'IEN 1 I>K1'1U of VEIN Hi ADMIX 
 
 ML'LE TEAMS. 
 
143 
 
 ladders or steps arranged for the purpose I 
 between the two tracks. Though the open- j 
 ing, as represented, appears insignificant for 
 an important mine, such a slope may extend 
 several hundred feet in depth, and many 
 gangways may branch off from it to the 
 right and left, extending several miles un- 
 der ground in nearly straight lines along the 
 course of the bed. These, however, to se- 
 cure ventilation, must have other slopes com- 
 ing out to the surface, and at these may be 
 other arrangements for discharging the coal 
 and water. In extensive mines the gang- 
 ways are made wide and capacious for the 
 continual passing back and forth of the wag- 
 ons drawn by mules. These animals once 
 lowered into the mine are kept constantly 
 under ground, where they arc provided with 
 convenient stables excavated from the coal 
 and rock. The men continue at work from 
 eight to ten hours, and in well-ventilated 
 mines the employment is neither very labo- 
 rious, hazardous, nor disagreeable. The pur- 
 suit has, however, little attraction for Ameri- 
 cans, and is mostly monopolized by Welsh, 
 English, Irish, and German miners. 
 
 In the anthracite region there have been 
 some remarkable instances of open quarries 
 of coal. That of the Summit mine of the 
 Lehigh is unsurpassed in the history of coal 
 mining, for the enormous body of coal ex- 
 posed to view. The great coal-bed, which 
 appears to have been formed by a num- 
 ber of bods coming together through the 
 thinning out of the slates that separated 
 them, arches over the ridge, forming the up- 
 permost layers of rock, and dipping down 
 the sides at a steeper angle than their in- 
 clination. It thus passes beneath the higher 
 strata. On the summit a thin soil, formed 
 chiefly of the decomposed coal itself, covered 
 the beds and supported a growth of forest 
 trees. For several feet down the coal was 
 loose and broken before the solid anthracite 
 was reached. As the excavations were com- 
 menced and carried on from this point, it 
 appeared as if the whole mountain was coal. 
 Shafts were sunk into it and penetrated re- 
 peated layers of anthracite, separated by thin 
 seams of slate, to the depth, in some places, 
 of more than 55 feet. The work of strip- 
 ping off and removing the covering of yellow 
 and greenish sandstones and refuse coal was 
 carried on, till the quarry had extended over 
 about 50 acres, and on the north side the 
 overlying sandstone, which had been steadily 
 increasing in thickness, presented a wall of 
 
 30 to 40 feet in height. Over this area rail 
 tracks were laid for removing the waste 
 northward to the slope of the hill toward 
 the Panther Creek valley ; and when the 
 piles thus formed had grown into large hills, 
 the rubbish was deposited in the spaces left 
 after the coal had been removed. During the 
 progress of this work the scenes presented 
 were of the most picturesque and novel char- 
 acter. The area laid bare was irregularly 
 excavated into steps, upon which temporary 
 rail tracks were laid in every direction. Up- 
 on these the wagons were kept busily run- 
 ning, some carrying off the coal, some load- 
 ed with slates and waste, and others return- 
 ing empty for their loads. Here and there 
 stood huge isolated masses of anthracite, 
 with their covering of sandstone, soil, and 
 the relics of the original forest growth, reach- 
 ing to the height of 50 or 60 feet, monu- 
 ments of the vast amount of excavation that 
 had been carried on, and presenting in their 
 naked, vertical walls, fine representations of 
 the extraordinary thickness of the bed and 
 of the alternating layers of slate and coal of 
 which it was composed. In the accompa- 
 nying cut of the great open quarry of the 
 Lehigh is represented one of these blocks. 
 Gradually these masses disappeared as the 
 miners continued their operations ; but in 
 the boundary walls of the quarry there are 
 still to be seen black cliffs of solid coal more 
 than 50 feet high, and overtopped by a wall 
 of vellow sandstone of nearly equal addi- 
 tional height. L'nder these walls opera- 
 tions have been carried on by the regular 
 system of underground mining. From ten 
 acres of the quarry it has been estimated 
 that 850,000 tons of coal have been sent 
 away, the value of which in the ground at 
 the usual rate of 30 cents per ton, would be 
 $255,000, or $25,500 per acre. Estimating 
 the average working thickness of the coal 
 in this part of the coal-field, from the Lit- 
 tle Schuylkill to Nesquehoning, at 40 feet, 
 which according to the report of the state 
 geologist is not exaggerated, every availa- 
 ble acre contains not less than 65,000 tons. 
 The expense of extracting and preparing 
 the coal from the great bed for market, is 
 stated b)' the same authority to be 37i 
 cents per ton for mining and delivering 
 ready for breaking and cleaning. For this 
 operation \2i cents; and for raising it to 
 the summit and running it to Mauch Chunk 
 25 cents. 
 
 Another locality where coal has been 
 
144 
 
 MINIXO IXDUSTBY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 worked by open quarrying is at the mines 
 of the Baltimore Company, near Wilkes- 
 barre. Here, too, an iinmonso bed of coal 
 was found so close to the surface that it was 
 easily uncovered over a considerable area. 
 As the overlying slates and sandstone in- 
 creased in thickness, it was found at last 
 more economical to follow the coal under 
 cover ; and it was then worked after the 
 manner of mining the bituminous coal-beds 
 west of the Alleghany Mountains. Horizon- 
 tal drifts 25 feet higli, which was the thick- 
 ness of the bed, were carried in from the 
 abrupt wall, several of them near together 
 and scpai'ated by great pillars of coal left to 
 support the roof The gangways were so 
 broad and spacious that a locomotive and 
 train of cars might have been run into the 
 mine. Within they were crossed by a suc- 
 cession of other levels, and through the wide 
 spaces thus left open, the light of day pene- 
 trated far into the interior of the hill, grad- 
 ually disappearing among the forest of black 
 pillars by which it was obstructed and ab- 
 sorbed. 
 
 In the anthracite region, several coal-beds 
 of workable dimensions are often found in 
 close proximity, so that when dipping at a 
 high angle they are penetrated in succession 
 by a tunnel driven across their line of bear- 
 ing. Larger quantities of coal are thus con- 
 centrated in the same area than are ever met 
 with in the bituminous coal-field. In tjie 
 northern coal-fields, lietween Scranton and 
 Carbondale, tracts have brought .^8u0 or 
 more per acre, and single tracts of 650 to 
 70U acres are reported upon by competent 
 mining engineers as containing five workable 
 beds, estimated to yield as follows — each 
 one over nearly the whole area: one bed 
 working 7 feet, ll,2(iO tons per acre; a sec- 
 ond, working 8 feet, 12,8L)U tons per acre ; 
 a third, 6 feet, 9600 tons per acre ; a fourth, 
 the same ; and a fifth, 3 feet, 4800 tons — 
 altogether equalling a production of 48,000 
 tons per acre, from which 20 per cent, should 
 be deducted for mine w.-iste, pillars, etc. 
 
 The anthracite as usually br(,)Ught out from 
 the mines is most!}' in large lumps t)f incon- 
 venient size to handle. In this shape it was 
 originally sent to market, and wlien sold to 
 consumers a man was sent with the coal to 
 break it up in small pieces with a hammer. 
 At present every miin; is supplied with an 
 apparatus called a coal-breaker, which is run 
 by steam power, and which crushes the large 
 pieces of coal in fragments. It consists of 
 
 two rollers of cast iron, one solid, with its 
 surface armed with powerful teeth, and the 
 other of open basket-work structure. Ihese 
 revolve near together, and the coal, fed from 
 a hopper above, is broken between them, and 
 the pieces discharged below into another hop- 
 per are delivered into the upper end of a re- 
 volving cylindrical screen, made of stout iron 
 wire, and set on a gentle incline. The meshes 
 of this screen are of four or more degrees of 
 coarseness. At the upper end the finer par- 
 ticles only drop through ; passing this por- 
 tion of the screen, the coarser meshes which 
 succeed let through the stove coal sizes, next 
 the " egg coal," and next the " broken coal," 
 while the coarsest pieces of all, called " lump 
 coal," are discharged through the lower end 
 of the screen. Under the screen are bins or 
 shutes, separated by partitions, so as to keep 
 each size b}' itself Their floor slopes down 
 to the railway track, and each bin at its lower 
 end is provided with a trap-door, through 
 which the coal is delivered as required into 
 the wagons. The general plan of this ar- 
 rangement is seen in the preceding wood-cut 
 of the Colliery Slope and Breaker at Tusca- 
 rora. The coal wagons are here run from 
 the mine up into the top of the engine house, 
 and thence through the building to the 
 breaker at the upper end of the slope over 
 the shutes. As the coal falls from the screen 
 into these, boys are employed, one in each 
 bin, to pick out and throw away the pieces 
 of slate and stone that may be mixed with 
 the coal. This they soon learn to do very 
 thoroughly and with great activity ; and up- 
 on the faithfulness with which their work is 
 done depends in no small measure the repu- 
 tation of the coal. 
 
 USEFUL APPLICATIONS. 
 
 While anthracite, by reason of its simple 
 composition, is fitted only for those uses in 
 which the combustion or oxidation of its 
 carbon is required to generate heat, or else 
 to extract oxygen from other substances, 
 the bituminous coals, containing a greater 
 variety of ingredients, serve to produce from 
 their volatile ingredients illuminating gas 
 and coal oils. These two subjects will be 
 treated in distinct chapters, an . that upon 
 the oils may properly include an account 
 of the petroleum wells which have come 
 within the past ten j'ears to furnish so large 
 and important an item of our exports and 
 Lome consumption. 
 
 1 
 
ILLUMINATING GAS. 
 
 145 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ILLUMIN-ATIKG GAS. 
 
 The supply of artificial light in abun- 
 dance and at little cost is one of the most 
 important benefits which science and me- 
 chanics can confer. It contributes not 
 merely to phy.sical comfort and luxurious 
 livinij, but supplies the means to multitudes 
 of obtaining instruction during those hours 
 after the cessation of their daily labors, 
 vhich are not required for sleep, and 
 which among the poor have in great 
 measure been spent in dar-lvuess, on ac- 
 count of the expense of artificial light. At 
 the present day it is not unusual, in the less 
 cultivated portions of the country, to see a 
 farmer's family at night gathered around a 
 blazing fire, and some among them seeking 
 by its fitful light to extract the news from 
 a public journal, or perhaps conning their 
 school tasks, and making some attempts at 
 writing or ciphering ; and when the hour to 
 retire has come, the younger members dis- 
 appear in the dark, and the more honored 
 are favored with a home-made tallow can- 
 dle, just sufficient for this use, and endura- 
 ble on!)' to those who are unaccustomed to 
 a more cleanlv and efficient method of il- 
 lumination. With the advance of cultivation 
 and learning, the demand for better light 
 has increased the more rapidi}' it has been 
 met. The sea has been almost exhaust- 
 ed of whales for furnishing supplies of oil. 
 The pork of the West has been largely con- 
 verted by new chemical processes into lard 
 oil and the hard stearine for candles ; and 
 numerous preparations of spirits of turpen- 
 tine, under the name of camphene and burn- 
 ing fluid, have been devised and largely in- 
 troduced with ingenious lamps contrived to 
 secure the excellent light they furnish, with 
 the least possible risk of the awful explo- 
 sions to which those fluids are liable when 
 their vapor comes in contact with fire. The 
 bituminous coals have been made to give up 
 the'r volatile portions — by one process to 
 afford an illuminating gas, and by another 
 to produce burning oils ; and the earth it- 
 self is bored by deep wells to exhaust the 
 newly-found supplies of oil gathered be- 
 neath the surface at unknown periods by 
 natural processes of distillation. The res- 
 inous products of the pine tree are applied 
 to the production of oil and gas for the 
 same purposes; and peat, wood, and other 
 9* 
 
 combustible bodies — even water itself — are 
 all resorted to as sources from which the cry 
 for " more light" shall be satisfied. 
 
 The distillation of carbonaceous and bi- 
 tuminous substances to obtain an illuminat- 
 ing gas is a process, the practical applica- 
 tion of which hardly dates back of the pres- 
 ent century. The escape of inflammable 
 gases from the earth, in different parts of 
 the world, had been observed, and the 
 phenomenon had been applied to supersti- 
 tious ceremonials, especially at Bakoo on 
 the shores of the Caspian. The Chinese 
 are said to have applied such natural jets 
 of gas to purposes of both illumination and 
 heating; but the first attempts to light build- 
 ings by gas distilled from bituminous coal 
 were made about the year 1798 by Mr. 
 Murdock in the manufactory of Messrs. 
 Boulton and Watt, at Soho, England, and 
 about the same time in France by a French- 
 man named Le Bow. The Lonilon and 
 Westminster Chartered Gas Light and Coke 
 Company was incorporated in 1810, and 
 Westminster bridge was lighted with gas, 
 Dec. 31, 1813. The process was introduced 
 into this country about the year 1821. Some 
 attempts had been made at an earlier date, 
 as in Baltimore according to some state- 
 ments in 1816, and in New York four years 
 before this. In the New York News of 
 August 15, 1859, is an account of the ef- 
 forts made by Mr. David Melville of that 
 city to establish the use of coal gas in 1812. 
 He lighted his own house with it, and then 
 a factory at Pawtucket. He also succeeded 
 in having it applied to one of the light- 
 houses on the coast of Rhode Island, and 
 for one year its use was continued with suc- 
 cess. But on account of the disturbed state 
 of the times and the prejudices against the 
 use of a new material, the enterprise fell 
 through. In 1822 the manufacture of gas 
 was undertaken in Boston ; and the next 
 year the New York Gas Light Company 
 was incorporated with a capital of 81,000,- 
 000. The works, however, were not com- 
 pleted and in operation until 1827. An- 
 other company, called the Manhattan Gas 
 Light Company, was incorporated in 1830 
 with a capital of S500,i;00, which has since 
 been increased to §4,000,000. Such were 
 the beginnings of this branch of manufac- 
 ture, which has of late rapidly extended 
 itself throughout all the cities and many of 
 the towns "of the United States, having 
 works in operation representing a capital of 
 
146 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATUS. 
 
 Within the last twenty ye:irs the use of g.is 
 has increased with great r^ipidity througliuut 
 the cities and towns of the United St:ites. 
 In 18G0, the number of companies miinufac- 
 turing g IS was, according to the stitements 
 of the American Gas Light Journal, -loo, 
 representing a capit<d of about $59,000,(100. 
 Ill 1870, the number of companies had in- 
 creased to somewhat more th:in 800, and tlie 
 capit d represented to over 1 12,000,000, tluis 
 ranking with tlie most important brandies 
 of industry in the country. The capital 
 of the gas companies of tlie State of New 
 York, is stated by Mr. Wells in his Report 
 on Local Taxation, to have been $20,000,000 
 iu 1870, and in this estimate many of the 
 smaller companies are overlooked. The 
 capitid of the gas companies of New York 
 ■ !ind Brooklyn in 1871 was over $14,000,000. 
 There are certainly five and ])robably six 
 companies whose annual production exceeds 
 1, 000,001 »,000 cubic feet, and several others 
 are approximating to that amount. The 
 jirice per thousand feet has varied greatly 
 in different sections, and has fluctuated in 
 all cases with the price of ths coal and in its 
 
 jiroduction. In New York city and JSrook- 
 lyn, it has ranged from $2.00 to $4.r)0, 
 standing at present at $3.25, but with a 
 j)roniise of reduction soon to $2.75. In 
 Philadelplua, where the city manufactures 
 for its citizens, it is now, we believe, $2,25, 
 and in Pittsburg has been as low as $1.5t). 
 In the smaller cities it ranges from $4.00 to 
 $8 00 per thousand feet. On the Pacific 
 coast, owing to the high price of gas pro- 
 ducing coals, it has been as high as from 
 S8.00 to $14.00 per thousand Ifeet. If the 
 Rocky Mountain coals prove to be of good 
 qu dity for the production of gas, the coet 
 will be materially lessened. Notwithstand- 
 ing the consumption of petroleum oils, tliere 
 has been an increase in the demand for illu- 
 minating gas, and the ])lans proposed for its 
 production from other hydrocarbons, or liy 
 new processes, have generally failed, so that 
 there seems to be a probabilitv of the contin- 
 ueil [iroduction of gas from coals What new 
 methods of illumination the next twenty 
 years may develop we cannot say ; but it is 
 certain that a cheaj), safe, and brilliant illu- 
 minator is still a tiling to be desired. 
 
 SOME OF THE PRINCIPAL GAS LIGHT COMPANIES IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Char- T tu:^„ Chartered 
 
 *„ „j Local ties. ■. , 
 
 tered. caintiil. 
 
 1830, Manhattan, N. T $4,000,000 
 
 1823, New York, N. Y 1,000,000 
 
 1825, Brooklyn, N. Y 2,000,000 
 
 1859, Cilizeiis' Co., Brooklyn 1,000,000 
 
 1841, Philadelphia 3,000,000 
 
 Northern Liberties 400,000 
 
 1822, Boston, Mass 1.000,000 
 
 1851, Cincinnati, Ohio 1,600,000 
 
 1849, Chicago, 111 1,300,000 
 
 1846, Charleston, S. C 723,800 
 
 1839, St. Loui.s, Mo 600,000 
 
 1835, Pittsburg, Penn 300,000 
 
 1848, Providence, R. 1 1,000,000 
 
 1845, Albanv, N. Y 250.000 
 
 1838, Louisville, Ky 600,000 
 
 1850, Williamsburg^ N. Y 500,000 
 
 1848, Troy, N. Y 200,000 
 
 1851, Richmond, Va 341, 9"5 
 
 1852, Rochester, N. Y 200,000 
 
 1849, Lowell, Mass 200,000 
 
 1848, Cleveland, Ohio 200,000 
 
 1849, Detroit. Mich 000,000 
 
 1853, Jersey City, N. J 300,000 
 
 Milwaukee, Wi.s 400,009 
 
 1849, Ilarttbrd, Conn 200,000 
 
 1849, Portland, Maine 250,000 
 
 1857, Columbia, California 50,000 
 
 1852, San Francisco, " 1,000,000 
 
 1858, Mary.sville, " 50,000 
 
 Stockton, " 50,000 
 
 1857, Sacramento, " 600,000 
 
 Approximate 
 
 Prices te 
 
 private 
 
 
 
 annual 
 
 CDDPUlners 
 
 Average cost of 
 
 proiliiclion. 
 
 per lOUO cubic 
 
 coal used 
 
 per ton. 
 
 Cubic feet. 
 
 feet. 
 
 
 
 725,321,000 
 
 $2 
 
 50 
 
 $6 50 to 
 
 $11 00 
 
 430,000,000 
 
 2 
 
 50 
 
 
 
 163,000,000 
 
 2 
 
 00 
 
 7 28 to 
 
 8 15 
 
 
 2 
 
 00 
 
 
 
 432,000,000 
 
 2 
 
 25 
 
 6 50 
 
 
 70,000,000 
 
 2 
 
 50 
 
 6 29 
 
 
 200,000.000 
 
 2 
 
 50 
 
 5 00 to 
 
 12 00 
 
 96.708,900 
 
 2 
 
 50 
 
 3 40 
 
 
 80,250,810 
 
 3 
 4 
 
 50 
 00 
 
 5 78 
 
 
 74,500,000 
 
 3 
 
 50 
 
 7 50 
 
 
 54,720,000 
 
 1 
 
 50 
 
 1 25 
 
 
 41,437,883 
 
 3 
 
 00 
 
 7 20 
 
 
 40,250,000 
 
 3 
 
 00 
 
 6 75 to 
 
 8 00 
 
 33,750.000 
 
 2 
 
 70 
 
 
 
 33,493,082 
 
 3 
 
 50 
 
 6 25 to 
 
 9 50 
 
 28,000,000 
 
 3 
 
 60 
 
 7 20 
 
 
 27,000,000 
 
 3 
 
 00 
 
 4 15 
 
 
 25,000,000 
 
 2 
 
 50 
 
 5 38 
 
 
 21,000,000 
 
 3 
 
 25 
 
 6 50 
 
 
 20,000,000 
 
 3 
 
 00 
 
 4 25 
 
 
 20,000,000 
 
 3 
 
 50 
 
 5 00 
 
 
 19,234,000 
 
 3 
 
 00 
 
 7 89 
 
 
 19,049,560 
 
 3 
 
 50 
 
 6 00 
 
 
 15,000,000 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 10 
 
 8 
 
 12 
 
 10 
 
 00 
 50 
 00 
 00 
 50 
 00 
 
 8 63 
 
 
 , , 
 
 10 
 
 00 
 
 • 
 
 
ILLUMINATING GAS. 
 
 UT 
 
 TOTAL OF GAS COMPANIES IN THE UNITED STATES 
 
 State. Companie; 
 
 Alabama , 3 
 
 Arkan.sas None. 
 
 California 9 
 
 Connecticut 14 
 
 Delaware 3 
 
 Di.stiict of Columbia 1 
 
 Florida 1 
 
 Georgia 6 
 
 Illinois 13 
 
 Indiana 7 
 
 Iowa 5 
 
 Kansas I 
 
 Kentncky 5 
 
 Louisiana 2 
 
 Maine 10 
 
 Marjland C 
 
 Massacliusetta 49 
 
 Michigan 8 
 
 Minnesota 1 
 
 Mississippi 4 
 
 Missouri 4 
 
 New Hanipsliire 9 
 
 New Jersey 19 
 
 New Tork 71 
 
 North Carolina 8 
 
 Ohio 30 
 
 Oregon 1 
 
 Pennsylvania 48 
 
 Rhode Island 7 
 
 South Carolina 2 
 
 Tennessee 4 
 
 Texas 3 
 
 Vermont 8 
 
 Virginia 11 
 
 Wisconsin 8 
 
 Not enumerated above. 
 
 ED STATES FROM RETURNS 
 
 OF JULY, 
 
 1860. 
 
 k Capital. 
 
 Coal 
 
 Average 
 
 Rosin 
 
 Average 
 
 
 gas. 
 
 
 gaa. 
 
 price. 
 
 $320,000 
 
 3 
 
 $5 16 
 
 
 
 1,790,000 
 
 9 
 
 10 05 
 
 
 
 953,000 
 
 14 
 
 3 83 
 
 
 
 244,300 
 
 3 
 
 3 50 
 
 
 
 500,000 
 
 1 
 
 3 25 
 
 
 
 30,000 
 
 1 
 
 7 00 
 
 
 
 559,160 
 
 4 
 
 4 68 
 
 2 
 
 $6 50 
 
 2,595,000 
 
 13 
 
 3 91 
 
 
 
 605,000 
 
 7 
 
 3 97 
 
 
 
 355,000 
 
 5 
 
 4 40 
 
 
 
 200,000 
 
 1 
 
 5 00 
 
 
 
 905,000 
 
 5 
 
 4 04 
 
 
 
 1,540,000 
 
 2 
 
 4 50 
 
 
 
 905,300 
 
 9 
 
 3 90 
 
 1 
 
 7 00 
 
 780,000 
 
 3 
 
 3 49 
 
 3 
 
 6 60 
 
 4,759,000 
 
 45 
 
 3 43 
 
 4 
 
 6 37 
 
 745,000 
 
 8 
 
 3 78 
 
 
 
 200,000 
 
 1 
 
 6 00 
 
 
 
 212,000 
 
 4 
 
 4 75 
 
 
 
 775,000 
 
 4 
 
 4 50 
 
 
 
 425,000 
 
 9 
 
 3 98 
 
 
 
 1,849,610 
 
 17 
 
 3 72 
 
 2 
 
 6 50 
 
 12,780,250 
 
 61 
 
 3 70 
 
 10 
 
 6 70 
 
 187,000 
 
 
 
 8 
 
 5 93 
 
 3,338,600 
 
 29 
 
 3 85 
 
 1 
 
 7 00 
 
 50,000 
 
 1 
 
 8 00 
 
 
 
 5,657,700 
 
 43 
 
 3 55 
 
 
 
 1,344,000 
 
 6 
 
 3 58 
 
 1 
 
 7 00 
 
 767,800 
 
 2 
 
 5 00 
 
 
 
 663,000 
 
 4 
 
 4 00 
 
 
 
 225,000 
 
 3 
 
 6 33 
 
 
 
 216,000 
 
 6 
 
 4 25 
 
 2 
 
 6 50 
 
 1,030,000 
 
 10 
 
 3 68 
 
 1 
 
 7 00 
 
 778,500 
 
 8 
 
 4 44 
 
 
 •■ 
 
 6,200,000 
 
 50 
 
 . .. 
 
 • • 
 
 .. 
 
 Grand total 431 S59,U 1,215 
 
 396 
 
 The preparation of illuminating gas from 
 bituminous coal, wood, rosin, and other 
 bodies of organic nature, is a chemical proc- 
 ess, too complicated to be very fully treated 
 in this place. When such bodies are intro- 
 duced into a retort and subjected to strong 
 heat, the elements of which thev consist, as 
 carbon, liydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen, re- 
 solve themselves into a great variety of com- 
 pounds, and escape (with tlie exception of 
 a fixed carbonaceous residue of charcoal or 
 of coke) through the neck of the retort in 
 the form of gas or vapors, some of the 
 latter of which condense on cooling into 
 liquids and solids. These compounds are 
 rendered more complicated by appropriating 
 the elements of air and moisture that may 
 be present in the retort or in the crude ma- 
 terial, and also of the foreign substances or 
 impurities contained in the latter. In proc- 
 esses of this kind, the products vary great- 
 ly in their character and relative proportions 
 according to the degree of heat employed, 
 
 and the rapidity with which the operation is 
 conducted. The object in this special dis- 
 tillation is to obtain the largest proportion 
 of the gases richest in carbon, particularly 
 that known as olefiant gas, which consists 
 of 86 parts by weight of carbon and 14 of 
 hydrogen, represented by the formula C4 
 Hj. This and some other gaseous liydro- 
 carbons of similar composition, or even con- 
 taining a much larger amount of carbon in 
 the same volume, and hence having a cor- 
 respondingly greater illuminating capacity, 
 it is found, are produced most freel}' from 
 carbonaceous substances which contain a 
 large proportion of hydrogen compared with 
 that of oxygen. Many of the common bi- 
 tuminous coals contain about 5'5 per cent, 
 each of hydrogen and ox3'gen, the rest be- 
 ing carbon. Boghead canncl of Scotland 
 contains 11 per cent, of hydrogen and 6 '7 
 of oxygen; rosin 10 per cent, hydrogen and 
 10-6 oxygen; wood 55 hydrogen and 44-5 
 oxygen. Of such compounds the cannel 
 
148 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 yields the richest gas and in largest quan- 
 tity. Still, as will be more fully explained 
 hereafter, the process may be so conducted 
 as to obtain chiefly liquid instead of gaseous 
 products. AVith the olefiant gas and tlie 
 others of similar composition, a number of 
 other gases also appear, some of which seem 
 to be essential for producing the effect re- 
 quired in illuminating gas, though they do 
 not themselves aft'ord light by their combus- 
 tion. Their part is rather like that of nitro- 
 gen in the atmosphere, to moderate the in- 
 tensity of the more active agent of the mix- 
 ture. Such are the light carburetted hydro- 
 gen, carbonic oxide, and hydrogen, all of 
 which are inflammable, but possess little or 
 no illuminating power. The first named 
 contains in an equal volume only half as 
 much carbon as olefiant gas, its composition 
 being represented by the formula Co IIj, 
 and if its proportion is too great for the 
 purpose it serves as a diluent, the quality of 
 the gas is impaired, and must be corrected 
 by the use of riclier material or increased 
 care in the process. 
 
 The light produced by the combustion 
 of gas is variable, not only according to the 
 quality of the gas, but also according to the 
 manner in which it is burned. If its ele- 
 ments undergo the chemical changes which 
 constitute combustion simultaneously, the 
 liydrogen combining with the oxygen of the 
 air to form aqueous vapor, and the carbon 
 with oxygen to produce carbonic acid, no 
 yellow flame .appears, but instead of this, a 
 pale blue flame like that of hydrogen alone. 
 Such an effect is produced when air is 
 thoroughly intermixed with the gas as it 
 passes through a tube to the jet wliere it is 
 ignited. Uut if the conditions of the com- 
 bustion are such that the hydrogen burns 
 first and appropriates the oxygen in contact 
 with the gas, the particles of carbon are 
 brouglit to an incandescent state and pro- 
 duce the yellow light before they reach the 
 oxygon with which they combine. The 
 particles may even be arrested while in trans- 
 itu and be deposited upon a cold surface in 
 the form of soot. The greatest heat is pro- 
 duced with the most thorough mode of 
 combustion and tlio appearance of the pale 
 blue flame ; and lamps designed to give 
 great heat are now in general use among 
 chemists, in which g.as is burned in this 
 manner. Wlien the air is impelled by a 
 bellows they even produce an intensity of 
 heat suflicient for many crucible operations. 
 
 If too much carbon be present a part of 
 it escapes unconsumed and produces a 
 smoky flame, hence the necessity of the di- 
 luents or gases deficient in carbon for neu- 
 tralizing the too large proportion of those 
 gases richest in carbon. The noxious com- 
 pounds in illuminating gas, and which 
 should be as far as possible extracted from 
 it before it is delivered for consumption, are 
 the sulphurous ingredients formed by the 
 combination of the sulphur of the ii'on 
 pyrites commonly present in bituminous 
 coals with the carbon, and with the hydro- 
 gen and the amraoniacal products. They 
 are the highly otfensive sulphurets of carbon, 
 the sulphuretted hydrogen, etc. Carbonic 
 acid, nitrogen, oxygen, carbonate of ammo- 
 nia and aqueous vapors are to be regarded 
 as foreign substances, though always present 
 to some extent in the gas. 
 
 The liquids generated by the distillation 
 mostly condense in two layers on cooling, 
 the upper an aqueous fluid, rendered strong- 
 ly alkaline by the ammoniacal compounds in 
 solution; and the lower a black tarry mix- 
 ture commonly known as coal tar, wliich is 
 composed of more than a dozen dift'erent 
 oily hydrocarbons, as benzole, tuluole, etc., 
 and contain in solution the solid oily com- 
 pounds of carbon and hydrogen, as naph- 
 thaline, para-naphthaline, and several others. 
 Many of these are likely to prove of con- 
 siderable practical importance. Benzoic is 
 a highly volatile fluid, a powerful solvent of 
 the resins, india-rubber, gutta percha, greasy 
 matters, etc. A most beautiful light is pro- 
 duced b)' the flame of benzole mixed with 
 due proportions of common air, and the 
 mixture is eftected by passing a current of 
 air through the fluid, the vapor of whicli it 
 takes up and carries along with it. The 
 difficulty attending this application is the 
 condensation of the benzole and its separa- 
 tion from the air at temperatures below 50°. 
 Above 70° too much vapor is taken up, 
 and the effect is a smoky flame. In Europe 
 much attention has been directed to the 
 separation of the more hidden products of 
 coal t.ar ; and among those the following are 
 enumerated in a statement exemplifying the 
 rapid increase in the value of these prod- 
 ucts as they are obtained by more extend- 
 ed researches. Benzoic worth about 25 
 cents a pound ; nitro-bonzolo, a substance 
 having the odor and taste of bitter almonds 
 and used as a flavoring, worth, crude, 70 
 cents, or refined, $1.50 per pound. The or- 
 
ILLUMINATING GAS. 
 
 149 
 
 dinary aniline dye for producing the mauve 
 color, $4.50 to $8 per pound, and the pure 
 aniline violet in powder $240 to $325 per 
 pound, or about its weight in gold. 
 
 Gas works established in cities and towns 
 are commonly built in places where the 
 property and buildings around are least like- 
 ly to be injured by the escape of the prod- 
 ucts, and rather upon a low than a high 
 level, for the reas<jn that the gas on account 
 of its lightness compared with the atmos- 
 pheric air ascends more freely than it de- 
 scends to its points of communication with 
 the external air. The works consist of the 
 apparatus for distilling the coal and receiv- 
 ing the products of the distillation, that for 
 purifying the gas, and that for conveying it 
 to the places where it is consumed, and 
 there measuring the quantities supplied to 
 each customer. The retorts in general use 
 are either of cast iron or of fire clay. The 
 latter are a late improvement highly recom- 
 mended, and introduced at the present time 
 into a few of the gas works. Various forms 
 have been tried ; the most approved are of 
 Q shape, 7 to 9 feet long, 1 or 2 feet wide, 
 and 12 or 15 inches high. They are set in 
 the furnace stacks, commonly two on the 
 same horizontal plane, two more over these, 
 and a fifth at the top. A single furnace fire 
 below is sufficient for heating them, and the 
 capacity of the works is increased by multi- 
 plying these fires along the length of the 
 stacks. Sometimes the stacks are made 
 double, so as to take two retorts set end to 
 end, each opening on opposite sides of the 
 stack. In place of two retorts a single long 
 one has been substituted, passing entirely 
 through and having at each end an opening 
 for charging and discharging. In large es- 
 tablishments as many as GOO or more retorts 
 mav be set, all of which may be kept em- 
 ploved in the winter season, when the con- 
 sumption of gas is largest. The outer end 
 of each retort projects a little way in front 
 of the wall of the furnace, and is provided 
 with a movable mouth-piece covering the 
 entire end, which may be readily removed 
 for admitting the charge of coal. Upon the 
 top of this projecting end or neck stands 
 the cast-iron pipe of about 4 inches in di- 
 ameter, called the stand pipe, through which 
 the volatile products pass from the retort. 
 It rises a few feet, then curves over back, and 
 passes down into a long horizontal pipe of 
 large diameter, which is laid upon the out- 
 er edge of the brick-work, and extends the 
 
 whole length of the furnace stacks. This 
 is called the hydraulic main, and into it all 
 the volatile products from the retorts be- 
 neath are discharged. It is kept about half 
 filled with water or the liquid tarry matters, 
 and the dip pipes terminate about three 
 inches below this fluid surface. By this ar- 
 rangement the retorts are kept entirely inde- 
 pendent of each other, while their products 
 all meet in one receptacle. 
 
 In manufacturing gas it is found neces- 
 sary to introduce the charge into the retorts 
 already at a full red heat, and bring it as 
 rapidly as possible to the high temperature 
 required for producing the richest gaseous 
 hydrocarbons. A low and slowly increas- 
 ing heat causes the ingredients of the charge 
 to form a larsje proportion of liquid and oily 
 substances, and little gas. It is only while 
 the coal is approaching a vivid red heat 
 that the best gaseous mixtures are obtained; 
 and even these are deteriorated by change 
 in the composition of the olefiant and other 
 rich gases of which they are in part com- 
 posed, if the mixture is exposed to too high 
 temperature, or remains in contact with red 
 hot surfaces of iron. The duration of the 
 charge used formerly to be from 8 to 10 
 hours ; but from the observations of the 
 qualities of the gases evolved at ditTerent 
 stashes of the process, it has gradually been 
 reduced to 4 to 6 hours, varying according 
 to the character of the coal employed. The 
 richest gases are obtained in the first hour, 
 and after this the proportional quantity per 
 hour steadily diminishes at the same time 
 that the quality gradually deteriorates. The 
 temptation, however, to obtain the largest 
 amount of a commodity which is sold only 
 by measure, and to consumers who have no 
 means of assuring themselves of its real 
 quality, no doubt often leads to extending 
 the operation to the separation of gaseous 
 mixtures having very little illuminating pow- 
 er. The manufacturers knowing their ma- 
 terials, and checking their operations by 
 regular photometrical tests, can control the 
 quality of the product as they see fit. 
 
 In order that the least loss may be incur- 
 red in bringing the charge up to the proper 
 temperature, the retorts are kept at a full red 
 heat ; and when ready for a new charge the 
 mouth-piece is partially removed, and the 
 gas that escapes is ignited. When the danger 
 of explosion by sudden admission of air has 
 passed the lid is removed, and the red hot 
 coke is raked out and quenched with water. 
 
150 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 The new charge is then introduced by means 
 of a long iron scoop bent up at the sides, 
 which is pushed into the retort, and being 
 turned over, discharges its contents. The 
 mouth-piece is then replaced, and tightly 
 secured with a luting of clay or lime. It is 
 obvious that the more perfectly the coal is 
 freed from moisture, the better must be the 
 gas ; and if it were also first somewhat 
 heated, the result would be still more satis- 
 factory. Tlie coals employed at the differ- 
 ent gas works of the United States arc gen- 
 erally mixtures of the caking coals of the 
 interior, or of those of Richmond, Virginia, 
 and of Nova Scotia, with cannel coal, which 
 for the cities near the coast is imported 
 from Great Britain, and for those in the in- 
 terior is obtained from the mines of this coal 
 in western Virginia and in Kentucky. The 
 larger the proportion of cannel, the better 
 should be the gas, under the same method 
 of manufacture. In the works in New- 
 York city, the proportion of cannel is gen- 
 erally from one third to one fourth of the 
 whole. Other establishments generally use 
 a less proportion of it. The amount of gas 
 it may produce varies with the kind of can- 
 nel from 9500 cubic feet to the ton to 
 15,000 cubic feet. The last is the yield of 
 the Boghead cannel. In general, the greater 
 the yield the better also is the quality of the 
 gas, as is indicated by its increased specific 
 gravity, that of the cannel last named being 
 .752, while the gas from other cannels yield- 
 ing about 10,000 cubic feet may not exceed 
 .500. The best Newcastle coals are not infe- 
 rior, either in the amount or quality of the gas 
 they aflord, to most of the cannels. They 
 produce about 12,000 cubic feet of gas to 
 the ton, and of specific gravity sometimes 
 exceeding .550 or even .600. The specific 
 gravity is not depended upon as a certain 
 test of the quality of the gas, the density 
 of which may be increased by presence of 
 impure heavy gases, or even of atmospheric 
 air ; but it is resorted to only as an indica- 
 tion in the absence of more exact tests. 
 
 The coke obtained from the retorts, 
 amounting to about 40 bushels to the ton 
 of coals, furnishes all the fuel required for 
 the fires beneath, and three times as much 
 more, which is sold for fuel. As the vola- 
 tile products pass through the hydraulic 
 main, the principal portions of the oily and 
 ammoniacal compounds arc deposited in it ; 
 but some of these pass on in vapors, and 
 would, if not separated, cause obstructions 
 
 in the pipes in which they might condense 
 in liquids and solids. They are consequent- 
 ly passed through a succession of tall iron 
 pipes standing in the open air, and some- 
 times kept cool by w.ater trickling down 
 their outside. A pipe from the bottom of 
 each pair convevs the condensed tar and 
 ammonia into a cistern in the ground. To 
 still further separate the condensable por- 
 tions, the gas at some works is next passed 
 into the bottom of a tower filled with bricks, 
 stones, etc., among the interstices of which 
 it finds its way up, at the same time that 
 water constantly sprinkled on the top is 
 working down and keeping the whole cool. 
 The water washes away the remaining am- 
 monia; but it is to be feared that it also re- 
 moves some of the richest hydrocarbons, 
 and the use of the wet scrubber, as it is 
 called, is already abandoned at some of the 
 gas works for similar methods of condens- 
 ing, except that the water is dispensed 
 with. The gas makes its exit from the top 
 of the scrubber ; and its passage being al- 
 ready somewhat impeded so as to throw 
 considerable pressure back into the retorts, 
 thus eft'ecting chemical changes in the gas, 
 which impair its quality, it is found neces- 
 sary to introduce a revolving exhauster, 
 which takes otf this pressure, and at the 
 same time propels the gas forward into the 
 succeeding apparatus. This is first a puri- 
 fier, the object of which is to arrest the car- 
 bonic acid and sulphurous gases. Diy 
 quicklime, and also the solution of this in 
 water, known as milk of lime, have the prop- 
 erty of absorbing these gases as they are 
 made to pass among the particles of the one 
 spread upon shelves, or interspersed among 
 a porous sulistance such as dry moss ; or to 
 bubble up through the aqueous solution. 
 The lime as it becomes saturated with the 
 impure gases is replaced with fresh portions. 
 The cleansing process is now complete, 
 and the gas is in proper condition to be de- 
 livered to the consumer. It must first, how- 
 ever, be measured, that a record may be kept 
 of the quantity produced, and it is next con- 
 ducted into the great gas-holders in which 
 it is stored. The measurement is effected 
 by means of a large station meter, construct- 
 ed on the principle of the small service- 
 meters, with one of which each consumer is 
 supplied. A revolving drum with four com- 
 partments of equal capacity is made to rotate 
 in a tight box by the gas entering and fill' 
 ing one of these compartments after another. 
 
ILLUMINATING GAS. 
 
 151 
 
 Tlieir capacity being known, and tlie number 
 of revolutions being recorded by a train of 
 wlieei-work outside the box, the quantity of 
 gas which passes through is exactly indica- 
 ted. The largest meters pass about 650 
 cubic feet by one revolution of the drum, or 
 about 7i),0U0 cubic feet in an hour. 
 
 The gas-holders are the large cylindrical 
 vessels of plate iron, the most conspicuous 
 objects at the gas works. Each one is set 
 witii its open end down, and immersed in a 
 cistern of water of diameter a little exceed- 
 ing its own. It is buoyed up by the water, 
 and also counterbalanced by weights passing 
 over pulleys. The gas admitted under the 
 inverted cylinder lifts this up, and fills all 
 the portion above the water. The weight 
 of the cylinder when the influx is shut otF, 
 aud the discharge pipes are opened presses 
 the gas out and through the mains to the 
 points where it is consumed. The gas-hold- 
 ers of the largest works are of immense 
 size. In Philadelphia, there is one 160 feet 
 in diameter and 05 feet high, holding 1,800,- 
 000 cubic feet of gas. Even this is exceeded 
 by one at the Imperial Gas Company's works, 
 London, which is 201 feet in diameter, 80 
 feet high, and of the capacity of 2,500,000 
 cubic feet. This cost upward of 8200,000 ; 
 and contains 1500 tons of iron, 5000 cubic 
 feet of stone work, and 2,000,000 bricks. 
 No advantage is gained in a single structure 
 of this immense size over several smaller 
 ones. On the contrary, this involves heavy 
 expenditures to protect them against the 
 force of the wind, and render them manage- 
 able. Those of great height are made in 
 sections, whicli shut one within another in 
 descending, like the parts of a telescope. 
 As each setition is lifted in turn out of the 
 water, its lower edge, which is turned up in 
 an outward direction, forming an annular 
 cup, includes a portion of water, into which 
 the upper edtce of the next lower section 
 eatclies, being turned over inward for this 
 purpose. A gas-tight joint between the two 
 sections is thus formed. 
 
 To insure uniformity of pressure, as the 
 gas enters the mains it is first made to pass 
 through the apparatus called a governor, in 
 ■which, accordinir to the force or slowness 
 with which it moves, it causes a valve to rise 
 and partially close an aperture within the 
 machine through which the gas flows, or to 
 descend and open this aperture. The in- 
 crease of pressure as the gas is carried to 
 higher levels, amounting to one fifth of an 
 
 inch of water in every 30 feet, renders it 
 important in hilly towns to have governors 
 upon difterent levels. In high buildings a 
 very sensible difterence is perceived in the 
 force with which the gas issues from the 
 burners on the ditfercut stories. This in- 
 volves a waste of gas where the pressure is 
 great, for under such conditions a consider- 
 able portion of that consumed adds little 
 to the illuminating effect. Various govern- 
 ors or regulators have been devised for the 
 use of consumers with a view of producing 
 an increase of light with reduced consump- 
 tion of gas ; and when judiciously applied, 
 some of them, as Kidder's and Stirling's, have 
 proved very successful. The latter lias been 
 introduced into some of the public buildings 
 of New York city, controlled by the Street 
 Department, and according to the report of 
 the Street Commissioner, the saving has 
 been in many instances very remarkable. 
 
 Each consumer of gas is supplied with a 
 meter, which is under the control of the 
 gas company ; and from its indications the 
 amount furnished is determined by inspec- 
 tion every month. 
 
 Tliough in the use of gas the consumer is 
 in a great measure dependent on the manu- 
 facturer as regards the economy of the light, 
 there are several points, by giving personal 
 attention to which, he may more fully real- 
 ize the saving it affords. In the first place, 
 he must be aware that every one emploving 
 this source of light uses it more freely than 
 that derived from lamps and candles. It is 
 enjoyed with so little trouble and apparent 
 cost, that much more light is soon regarded 
 essential, than was perfectly satisfactory un- 
 der the old methods of producing it. He 
 should next see that the area of the delivery 
 pipe bears such proportion to the quantity 
 usually required, that there is no undue pres- 
 sure upon the burners, as is evident when 
 the gas "blows" through them as it burns. 
 This should be cheeked by shutting off a 
 part of the supply by means of the stop-cock 
 at the meter ; and this should be looked to 
 after every visit of the gas man to the meter. 
 The regulator also is intended to remedy 
 this over supply, but it may still be neces- 
 sary to keep part of the gas turned off, and 
 by so doing the regulator may be dispensed 
 with. Attention should next be directed to 
 the burners, that those of largest size, such as 
 consume with the ordinary pressure six feet 
 or more of gas an hour, should be placed 
 only where the greatest quantity of light is 
 
152 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 required, and that burners of four feet, three 
 feet, two feet, or even one foot an hour, be 
 placed where the light they give will be suf- 
 ficient. The burners called Scotch tips, giv- 
 ing what is called the fish-tail flame, are in 
 common use, but a great variety of others 
 have been contrived, and some of them are 
 liighly recommended for affording more light 
 with the same amount of gas. All, however, 
 are liable to become foul after a time, and 
 should be occasionally cleaned or replaced. 
 The iron of which tliey are made is corrod- 
 ed by the ingredients of the gas, especially 
 when not in use, and air entering its ele- 
 ments form acid compounds with those of 
 the gas which remain in the open portion 
 of the pipe. The argand burner is recom- 
 mended for the powerful and steady light it 
 gives, but it is far from being economical, and 
 moreover produces great heat. For a steady 
 light Gleason's " American gas-burner" com- 
 bines the advantages of brilliant light, steadi- 
 ness of flame, and moderate consumption. 
 
 The quality of gas is determined either by 
 analysis, or more conveniently by testing 
 with the photometer its comparative capac- 
 ity of producing light. The standard adopt- 
 ed for comparison is spermaceti caudles, each 
 one burning 120 grains in an hour. An ar- 
 gand burner consuming five feet of gas an 
 hour (the quantity carefully proved by the 
 meter) is used in making the trial ; and the 
 number of candles required to produce an 
 equal amount of light indicates the quality 
 of the gas. At the points of consumption 
 this is sometimes inferior to that of the gas 
 at the works before it enters the gas-holders 
 and passes through the mains ; but in very 
 cold weather, by the condensation of the 
 richest hydrocarbon vapor in the pipes, the 
 gas that reaches the burners is poorer than 
 that which left the works. Consequently 
 these facts should be taken into consider- 
 ation in estimating the quality of gas fur- 
 nished by any establishment. Again, after 
 a period of excessive cold weather, when the 
 gas lias burned dimly by the condensation 
 of its best portions in the pipes — it may be 
 to the extent at times of obstructing the flow 
 throu;;h them — and with the return of milder 
 weather the vapors are released and mix with 
 tlie new gas, they sometimes so overburden 
 this with an undue proportion of the richest 
 compoupds, that with the ordinary burners 
 the gas cannot be consumed, and the result 
 is a smoky flame, of which the consumers 
 make great complaint, believing it to be 
 
 caused by inferior gas. Such are some of 
 the causes, over which the manufacturers 
 have no control, that involve more or less ir- 
 regularity in the quality of the gas supplied. 
 
 The gas produced at different works is of 
 various qualities. That of the Manhattan 
 Gas Liglit Company is rated at sixteen can- 
 dles, and is probably as good as any furnish- 
 ed in our cities. It is tested daily with the 
 photometer at their oflicc, at the corner of 
 Irving Place and Fifteenth street. New York. 
 In England, the gas of the London works va- 
 ries from eleven to eighteen candles. That 
 of Liverpool is much better, sometimes being 
 equal to twenty -two candles. 
 
 Other materials than coal have been ap- 
 plied to some extent in the United States 
 for producing gas, chiefly for small suf>plie3 
 for single buildings. The most successful of 
 these processes is that with rosin oil. The 
 apparatus is exceedingly simple, and is placed 
 in an apartment in an out-building. It con- 
 sists of a stove containing a chamber in the 
 top, into which the rosin oil is allowed to 
 drop slowly. It is decomposed by the heat 
 of the surface upon which it falls, and the 
 gaseous products pass immediately through 
 the pipes into the gas-holder, whence they are 
 distributed as at the large gas works. The 
 supply for a week may be made in less than 
 an hour with very little attention from the 
 person in charge. The gas is superior to 
 that from coal, and the expense, not reckon- 
 ing the cost of the gas-holder and the appa- 
 ratus, is less than the price ordinarily paid 
 for gas. 
 
 In Philadelphia wood has been success- 
 fully used at the Market street bridge works. 
 Six retorts have been kept in operation with 
 it for some time, and the yield and quality 
 of the gas have proved very satisfactory. As 
 in the use of coal, it is found necessary to 
 charge the material into retorts already at a 
 high heat, otherwise the gaseous products 
 have little illuminating power. Gas thus 
 made from pine wood has been found to 
 contain 10.57 per cent, of olefiant gas, and 
 that from oak 6.46 per cent. 
 
 Hydrocarbon Gas. — What is known as 
 the hydrocarbon or water gas manufacture 
 was introduced into Philadelphia in 1858, 
 and according to the published reports, its 
 application to lighting a portion of the Girard 
 House in that city, proved for several months 
 perfectly satisfactory. It was introduced 
 into the town of Aurora, Indiana, in January, 
 1861, and according to the statements puD- 
 
ILLUMINATING GAS. 
 
 153 
 
 lished in the Cincinnati Daily Commercial, 
 the operation had been very successful. 
 The light is described as very brilliant, and 
 the gas almost free from odor. The process 
 appears to be similar to that of Mr. White, 
 of Manchester, England, •which consists in 
 the generation of the non-illuminating gases 
 by the action of steam upon charcoal highly 
 heated in a retort, the aqueous vapor being 
 thereby decomposed, and various gaseous 
 compounds produced by its hydrogen and 
 oxygen combining with the carbon of the 
 charcoal. If the operation is properly con- 
 ducted these compounds should be almost 
 entirely carbonic oxide and free hydrogen ; 
 if carbonic acid is produced, as it may well 
 be, even to the extent of one per cent., it 
 may involve the expense of purification by 
 means of a lime purifier. These gases are 
 immediately passed througli another retort, 
 in which the illuminating gases are genera- 
 ted, and mixing with them the whole is im- 
 mediately swept forward out of the reach of 
 the high decomposing temperature. The 
 material employed for furnishing the illumi- 
 nating gas is either rosin or rosin oil gadual- 
 ly dropped into the heated retort ; and it is 
 stated that various other carbonaceous sub- 
 stances, as the tar fro.-n the gas works and 
 cheap greasy compounds, may bo economi- 
 cally applied. 
 
 Although this method of producing gas 
 has been highly recommended by eminent 
 English authorities, especially by Dr. Frank- 
 land, an account of whose experiments and 
 conclusions is given in the recent edition of 
 TJ re's Dictionary (London, 1860), vol. i., p. 
 "778, it has not been adopted by gas compa- 
 nies, whose first interest it would be to avail 
 themselves of such improvements, and it is 
 reasonable to suppose there are some insu- 
 perable objections to it. Indeed, in the last 
 edition of Clegg's "Treatise upon the Man- 
 ufacture and Use of Gas," the subject is 
 passed by with scarcely any notice, although 
 it had been in the previous edition treated 
 in detail and with commendation. In the 
 English Gas Journal, it is decidedly con- 
 denmcd. No analyses of the gas thus pro- 
 duced in tins country have ever been pub- 
 lished, nor any reports of photometrical ex- 
 periments that might establish its light-giv- 
 ing capacity. As the subject for some time 
 attracted much attention, and has given rise 
 to extravagant expectations of cheap pro- 
 duction of gas, it is very desirable that such 
 trials and reports should be made by some 
 
 competent chemist. In Philadelphia, the 
 subject has given rise to a newspaper con- 
 troversy, and the publications were embod- 
 ied, in 1800, in a pamphlet entitled "The 
 Water Gas Correspondence." They contain- 
 ed nothing, however, to determine the real 
 merits of the gas. 
 
 Gas for Steamboats and Railroad 
 Cars. — Several methods have recently been 
 put in practice of furnishing gas for the con- 
 venience of passengers in steam vessels, or 
 upon railroads. One plan is to place in the 
 boats or under the cars larcje cases of sheet 
 iron, each one provided with a diaphragm 
 or partition of india-rubber across its upper 
 portion. A connection being made between 
 the receptacle under the diaphragm and the 
 street main, the gas fills this portion of the 
 case and the connection is then shut off. 
 When required for use, the gas is forced out 
 by the pressure of air uniformly applied upon 
 the upper suiface of the india-rubber sheet 
 by means of a meter running by clock work. 
 This method has so far been successful ; but 
 danger is apprehended by some that atmos- 
 pheric air may find its way through the 
 flexible sheets, all of which are more or less 
 permeable when used to separate different 
 gaseous compounds, and that an explosive 
 mixture may thus be introduced. 15y an- 
 other plan of a New York company, the gas 
 by means of force pumps is compressed into 
 strong cylindrical gas-holders made like the 
 boilers of steam engines. The gas is thus 
 made to occupy a diminished space in pro- 
 portion to the pressure used, that of 20 at- 
 mospheres placing 1000 cubic feet of gas in 
 50 feet space. In Jersey City, where this 
 method has been applied to furnishing gas 
 for railroad cars, the pressure employed is 
 about 450 lbs. upon the square inch. Un- 
 der this pressure the gas is conveyed through 
 pipes to the points where the cars receive 
 from them their supplies. The gas by its 
 elasticity presses through the burners, and 
 uniformity of discharge while this force is 
 constantly diminishing is secured by a gov- 
 ernor or regulator constructed on the princi- 
 ple already described. 
 
 Gas for Fuel. — Besides its use for pro- 
 ducing light, gas has lately been applied to 
 other domestic purposes for the sake of the 
 heat it can be made to afford in burning. It 
 was thus first used bv chemists, and mechan- 
 ics, as bookbinders, then applied it in suit- 
 able stoves to the heating of such tools as 
 they required of a high temperature. After 
 
154 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 this stoves were contrived on different plans 
 in wliich various culinary operations miiiht 
 be conducted, and some also for warming 
 rooms. Though it would appear to be an 
 expensive fuel, it has been found for many 
 purposes, in which only a certain amount of 
 heal is required, and this for a short time, 
 not merely exceedingly convenient, but even 
 economical. No more need be consumed 
 than is required to effect the desired pur- 
 pose, and it is moreover applied directly to 
 the object to be heated with httlc dispersion 
 or waste of heat. But for warming rooms, it 
 is objectionable, not only on account of its 
 cost, but also from its vitiating the atmos- 
 phere by the large amount of the noxious 
 gases produced by its combustion. If these 
 are conveyed away by ventilating flues, they 
 carry with them a considerable portion of 
 the caloric set free. No doubt when gas is 
 afforded at lower rates, means will be devised 
 of applying it more advantageously to this 
 purpose. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 HYDROCARBON OR COAL OILS. 
 
 Notwithstanding the substitution in the 
 cities and most of the towns of considerable 
 size throughout the country of gas for oils, 
 the demand for the latter has increased much 
 faster than the supply, as is shown by the 
 price for sperm oil being now more than 
 three times what it was in 1843, when it 
 brought about fifty-five cents per gallon. 
 Besides its use for illuminating purposes, 
 the consumption of oil is enormous for 
 lubricating machinery. The railroads and 
 steamboats, and the increasing numbers of 
 large factories, demand such quantities of it 
 that all the ordinary sources of supply were 
 overtasked, and the whaling business former- 
 ly so prosperous in New England, has fallen 
 off in the face of advancing prices, or been 
 forced to gather itself in fewer centres, where 
 by concentration of its operations the busi- 
 ness could be conducted with the greatest 
 economy. From many seaports of New Eng- 
 land this business has quite disappeared, and 
 the following changes in others are reported 
 to have taken place between the years 1843 
 and 1859. In the former period New Bed- 
 ford had 214 whale ships, and in 1859 the 
 number had increased to 310. In New Lon- 
 don, Conn., the number had increased from 
 45 to 56, and m Mattapoiset from 11 to 19. 
 
 In other towns the number of ships had fallen 
 ofF as follows: Nantucket, to 33 from 85; Sag 
 Harbor, to 20 from 43 ; Warren, R. I., to 15 
 from 21, etc. At Fairhaven, 46 ships were 
 owned at both periods. The manufacture of 
 lard oil, which of late years has been exten- 
 sively carried on in the Western states, failed 
 to meet the increasing demands, when at last 
 attention beg.an to be directed to the extrac- 
 tion of oils from the bituminous coals and 
 shales, by processes of recent introduction in 
 France and England. The success attained 
 by Mr. James Young, of Glasgow, in his treat- 
 ment of the "Torbane II ill mineral," or Bog- 
 head cannel of Scotland, served more than 
 anything else to give encouragement to this 
 enterprise. In 1854, according to the testi- 
 mony of this practical chemist, in a lawsuit 
 in London, lie was producing about 8000 
 gallons a week of an oil he called paraffins 
 oil, which sold for 5s. a gallon, the sales 
 amounting in all to about $500,000 per an- 
 num, of which the greater portion was profit. 
 Operations of a similar character had for 
 some time previously been conducted upon 
 a largo scale at Autun, Department of the 
 Saone and Loire, in France ; the materials 
 employed being highly bituminous shales, 
 probably not essentially difl'ercnt from the 
 Torbane Hill mineral, except in producing 
 much less oil to the ton. 
 
 The first factory for making coal oil in the 
 United States was established on Newtown 
 Creek, Long Island, opposite New York city, 
 and commenced operations in June, 1854. 
 This was known as the Kerosene Oil Works, 
 and was designed to work the Boghead can- 
 nel, or coal of similar character from the 
 province of New Brunswick, or from the 
 AVest, by the patented process of Mr. Young. 
 In Kentucky, Ohio, Virginia, and Pennsyl- 
 vania cannel coals were found of suitable 
 qualities for this manufacture; and in 1856 
 the Breckenridge Coal Oil Works were in suc- 
 cessful operation at Clovcrport, on the Ohio 
 river, in Breckenridge county, Ky. The same 
 j'car a factory was built in Perry county, 
 Ohio, by Messrs. Dillie and Robinson, and 
 others rapidly sprung up in the vicinity of 
 Newark, wliich soon became an important 
 centre of this new business. In 1858, sev- 
 eral large factories were built in New Eng- 
 land, one in Boston, and one in Portland, 
 Maine. It is doublful whether Young was 
 the first inventor or discoverer of this, for 
 as we shall see, the late Baron von Reechen- 
 bach had many years before distilled some 
 
HYDEOCARBON OR COAL OILS. 
 
 155 
 
 TABLE OF THE COAL OIL WORKS OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 State. 
 
 Town or county. 
 
 Name of works- 
 
 No. of factories. 
 
 Maine, 
 Massachusetts, 
 
 Portland Portland Company 
 
 Boston Downer Kerosene Co. . . . 
 
 " Pape & Co 
 
 " Suflblk Company 
 
 " Pinkliam 
 
 " Peasley 
 
 East Cambridge E. Cambridge Company. . 
 
 New Bedford New Bedford Company. . 
 
 Harllord Hartford Company 
 
 Stamford Stamford Company 
 
 Newtown Creek, L. I Kerosene Oil Company. . 
 
 '' Hunter's Ponit, L. I Liitlier Atwood 
 
 " " Carbon Company 
 
 " Soutii Brooklyn. Empire State Company. . 
 
 " " Franklin Company 
 
 " Williamsburgh Long Island Company. . . 
 
 " " Knickerbocker Company. 
 
 " " Fountain Oil Co 
 
 " Harlem Beloni & Co 
 
 " " Excelsior Company 
 
 Pennsylvania, Darlington, Beaver Co Anderson & Co 
 
 Connecticut, 
 New York, 
 
 Ohio, 
 
 Virginia, 
 
 Kiskiminitas Aladdin Company 
 
 " Lucesco Company 
 
 Freeport, Armstrong Co North American Company. 
 
 New Galilee New Galilee 
 
 Euon Valley. ... Enon Valley Company. . . . 
 
 E. Palestine. Columbiana Co. . . .Palestine Company 
 
 Canlield, Mahoning Co Cornell & Company 
 
 " " Sherwood 
 
 " " Phcenix 
 
 " " Mystic 
 
 " " Canfield 
 
 Cleveland Dean 
 
 Zanesville Brooks 
 
 Cox 
 
 Newark, Licking Co Great Western 
 
 " " Three others 
 
 Steubenville, Jefferson Co 
 
 Coshocton Co 
 
 Columb\is, Franklin Co 
 
 Cincinnati Grasseli 
 
 " Western Company 
 
 " Phoenix Company 
 
 Perry Co Robinson & Co 
 
 Kanawha region Falling Rock Company. . . . 
 
 .Forest Hill Company 
 
 Kentucky, 
 Kentucky, 
 
 Missouri, 
 
 " " Greers. 
 
 " " Great Kanawha Company 
 
 " " Staimton Company 
 
 " " Atlantic Company 
 
 " " Union Company 
 
 " " K. C. C. M. and 0. M. Company... 
 
 Preston Co Preston Company 
 
 Monongalia Co White Bay Company 
 
 Rilcliie Co Ritchie Company 
 
 Wheeling New York and Wheeling Company. 
 
 Taylor Co Marion Company 
 
 Maysvillo, Mason Co Union Company 
 
 " " Ashland 
 
 Cloverport, Breckenridgc Co, 
 
 Covington and Newport, opposite Cincinnati 
 
 Owsley Co 
 
 St. Louis 
 
 Doily 
 
 oapacity 
 
 ill 1800. 
 
 Gallons. 
 
 4000 
 
 4000 
 
 600 
 
 300 
 
 800 
 300 
 200 
 
 4000 
 
 2000 
 
 300 
 
 300 
 
 500 
 
 400 
 50 
 
 2000 
 
 500 
 
 74 
 
156 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 ounces of a na|ihtha from pit coal, wliich was 
 substantially identical witii Young's; and 
 several other chemists claim to have arrived 
 at similar results ; but Young was certainly 
 the first to produce the oil on a commercial 
 scale. 
 
 So rapid was the increase in the deir.and 
 for this oil, that in 18G0 there were nearly 
 80 manufactories in the United States, em- 
 ploying over $3,000,000 capiial, and produc 
 ing oil naphthalin and |iaraHin to the amount 
 of five millions of dollars annually. The 
 coal oil manufacture had assumed at a bound, 
 an importance, which gave it the leading 
 place among the new manufactures of the 
 previous decade. The production of iliii 
 minating oils exceeded in that year ten mil- 
 lion gallons, and about five millions of gallons 
 of the heavy lubricating oils and paratline. 
 The man who had predicted that within the 
 next three years all this activity of produc- 
 tion would cease, and another article then 
 just coming into notice would supersede it, 
 and attain to ten times its extent, would have 
 been deemed litth' less than a mail-man. Yet 
 this was precisely what happened. 
 
 HISTORY AND METHOD OF THE MANUFACTURE. 
 
 The pnssibilitv of extracting oil from bitu- 
 minous minerals appears to have been known 
 since the year 1694, a patent having been 
 granted in January of that year to Martin 
 Eele, Thomas Hancock, and William Port- 
 lock, for "a way to extract and make great 
 quantities of pitch, tarr, and oyle out of a 
 sort of stone, of which there is a sufficient 
 found within our dominions of England and 
 Wales." This stone proved to be a bitumi 
 nous shale ; and in 1716 it was again applied 
 to similar use under another patent, gi-anted 
 to M. it T. Helton, of Shrewsbury. In the 
 course of the eighteenth centuiy the oily 
 product obtained was employed to some ex- 
 tent as a medicine, under the name of Brit- 
 ish or petroleum oil. Though from time to 
 time other patents were granted in England 
 for the same process, the business never be- 
 came of importance there until the success- 
 ful trials were made by Mr. James Yoimg, 
 of Glasgow, upon the Boghead caimel al- 
 ready referred to. On the continent the 
 subject was brought before the public by the 
 researches of Baron Von Reichenbach iii 
 
 1829, '30, and '31, when he discovered and 
 separated numerous new compounds from 
 the products of the slow distillation ot bitu- 
 minous substances. The compound he named 
 eupion is the same thing as the rectified oil 
 now known as coal oil, paraffine oil, kerosene, 
 photogenic, pyrogenic oil, and by other local 
 or commercial names. lie appreciated its 
 useful properties, and recommended the pros- 
 ecution of further trials with the object of 
 establishing the best mode of separating it. 
 In France its character was understood in 
 1824, when a patent was granted for its man- 
 ufacture; and in 1833 factories were in op- 
 eration for producing it. In 1S34 the meth- 
 od adopted by Selliguc was first published, 
 and in the specification of the patent granted 
 to him, March 19, 1845, is a full account of 
 tlie process as conducted in the works at 
 Autun. This is still the best treatise pub- 
 lished upon the manufacture, and notwith- 
 standing the numerous patents which have 
 since been issued, the improvements are lim- 
 ited to comparatively unimportant modifica- 
 tions of the apparatus. In the United States 
 the first patent granted in this maiuifacture 
 was in March, 1852, to James Young for his 
 process, which in tliis country was first intro- 
 duced at the kerosene oil works on Newtown 
 Creek. The next year two patents were grant- 
 ed, in 1854 and 1855 one each, in 1856 six, 
 in 1858 seven, and in 1859 twenty-two. 
 
 As mentioned in the preceding chapter, 
 the products obtained by the distillation of 
 bituminous substances vary according to the 
 amount of heat employed and the manner 
 ov its application, whether sudden or grad- 
 ual. Coals thrown into red hot retorts are 
 resolved into large quantities of gas, with 
 the ])rodnction of inconsiderable <piantities 
 of oily compounds heavier in the aggregate 
 than water, and called coal tar. They cim- 
 sist of a vai'iety of hydrocarbons, as the 
 fluids dosigiuited by the name of naphtha, 
 the white crystalline substance cjilled naph- 
 thaline, tlio very volatile fiuid benzole, be 
 sides carbolic acid and a great number of 
 other curious and interesting compounds of 
 hydrogen and carbon. In general they con- 
 tain a less proportional amount of hydrogen 
 than the pioducts obtained by .slow distilla 
 tion, the fluids are denser, and their boihng 
 points higher. 
 
HYDROCARBON OR COAL OILS. 
 
 157 
 
 When the bituminous substances are grad- 
 ually and moderately heated in retorts, the 
 production of gas is small, the carbon and 
 hydrogen separating chiefly in the form of 
 oily compounds of a greenish color, the spe- 
 cific gravity of which is less than water. 
 These compounds form what is called crude 
 coal oil, and arc similar in appearance and 
 composition to the natural petroleum, or rock 
 oil, obtained in some places from the earth, 
 as will be described in the next chapter. 
 Benzole and naphthaline, products of the 
 other method of distillation, are found, if at 
 all, as a result of the employment of too 
 high heat, and instead of the latter the waxy 
 or spermaceti-like substance called parafline 
 is generated and is held in solution in the 
 oil-!, from which it may be separated by re- 
 peated distillations, and draining ott" through 
 filters and pressing out the fluid portions of 
 the concentrated residues, at the lowest avail- 
 able temperatures. The oily products are 
 divisible into a great number of distinct 
 compounds by means of repeated distilla- 
 tions, each one being carefully conducted at 
 a certain degree of temperature, and the 
 product which comes over at this degree be- 
 ing kept by itself. But in the large way 
 they are separated into only three classes, 
 which an; distinguished as the light oils for 
 lamps, the heavy oils which are suitable for 
 lubricating purposes, and paraffine. Some- 
 times a mixture of the heaviest oils and par- 
 affine is made use of and sold for wagon 
 grease and such purposes; and the first prod- 
 ucts which come over in the distillation are 
 kept by themselves, and sold under the name 
 of naphtha (or incorrectly as benzole) to be 
 used as a solvent for the resins, caoutchouc, 
 etc., and for removing grease spots from fab- 
 rics. 
 
 The proportions obtained from a ton of 
 coal or shale are very variable. The Bog- 
 head cannol yields, in well-conducted opera- 
 tions, about 117 gallons of crude oil, from 
 which the product of refined oil is about 60 
 gallons. It can be made to ])roduce even 
 l:iO gallons of crude oil, containing a larger 
 proportion of refined oil than the 117 gal- 
 lons ordinarih' obtained. The Breckenridgc 
 coal yields from 90 to 100 gallons of crude 
 oil, and this 50 to GO of refined oil. The 
 Cannelton coal of Virginia is of similar 
 qnalit}- to the Breckenridgc cannel. The 
 coals of Ohio run from 55 to 87 gallons of 
 crude oils to the ton, and those of Darling- 
 ton, Penn., from 45 to 55 gallons. Besides 
 
 the oils there also come over from the re- 
 torts, as in the gas manufacture, a quantity 
 of water rendered alkaline by tlie ammonia 
 it holds. This collects at the bottom of the 
 reservoirs into which the products are re- 
 ceived, and the oil that floats upon the sur- 
 face being removed the ammoniacal liquors 
 are allowed to escape. 
 
 While the general plan of the operations 
 is the same in all the factories, the apparatus 
 is variously modified. By Mr. Young's proc- 
 ess the coal is distilled in cast-iron P -shaped 
 retorts, like those employed in making gas, 
 and the volatile products are passed by a 
 worm through a refrigerator kept at a tem- 
 perature of about 55° F. The oils as they 
 condense drop from the end of the worm 
 into a receiver. Many patents have been 
 granted in Europe and in this country for 
 different kinds of retorts. Some are made 
 of cylindrical form and set upright in the 
 furnace ; the charge is introduced at the top 
 and drawn out, when exhausted, at the bot- 
 tom ; the volatile products making their exit 
 either through pipes at the top or at differ- 
 ent heights. Some have been constructed 
 of fire clay instead of cast iron. In order 
 that the charge may be uniformly heated, 
 revolving cylindrical retorts have been con- 
 trived and patented, first in France many 
 years ago, and recently in the United States. 
 They are sometimes eight feet long and six 
 feet diameter, suspended upon an axle at each 
 end. They are charged through a manhole 
 in the front end like the common horizontal 
 retorts, and the vapors pass out through the 
 axle at the opposite end, which is made hol- 
 low for this purpose. Retorts of the size 
 named are charged with about a ton of can- 
 nel coal, and four such charges may be 
 worked off in twenty-four hours. They re- 
 volve slowly, about twice in a minute, thus 
 turning the charge over and causing it to be 
 uniformly exposed to the fire beneath. At 
 the Lucesco works, thirty miles above Pitts- 
 burg, on the Alleghany, ten large revolving 
 retorts are stated to be in operation, each 
 one of the capacity of two and a half tons. 
 Thev are recommended for the rapidity with 
 which the process is-conducted, and the large 
 amount of oil obtained to the ton of coal 
 while they continue in good order ; and on 
 the other hand it is objected to them that 
 the coal is apt to be ground to powder, and 
 the dust is carried along with the vapors, ob- 
 structing the condensing worm and adding 
 to the cost of purification. They are, more- 
 
158 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 over, expensive to construct and liable to get 
 out of order. 
 
 By all these arrangements the fire wliicli 
 causes tlie expulsion of the volatile matters 
 is outside of the retorts. But the same ob- 
 ject is also attained by the use of ovens and 
 pits similar to those used for producing 
 charcoal and coke, in which the material 
 operated upon is itself partially consumed, 
 to genei'ate the heat required to drive oft" so 
 much of its volatile constituents as may es- 
 cape combustion. Kilns thus designed for 
 extracting coal oils liave been in use in this 
 countrv and in Europe ; and in Yivgiuia, 
 near Wheeling, the plan has been adopted 
 of distilling the coal or shale in large pits 
 dug in the ground of capacity sufhcient to 
 contain 100 tons of the raw material. These 
 are covered with earth, and the fire being 
 started at one end, the heat spreads the vol- 
 atile products forward, and they are drawn 
 out at the opposite end by the exhausting 
 action caused bv a jet of steam, and received 
 into suitable condensing apparatus. Some 
 of the kilns are constructed to be fired at 
 the bottom, and the vapors then pass up- 
 ward through the charge, and are conveyed 
 in pipes from the top to the ci'udensers. 
 The kilns of tlie Kerosene Oil Company, 
 patented by Mr. Luther Atwood, are made 
 open at the top, and a downward draught 
 through the charge, which is fired on the 
 upper surface, is produced by a steam jet 
 thrown into the eduction pipe that jiasses 
 out from the bottom of the kiln. A partial 
 vacuum is thus produced, causing a current 
 of air to flow in from the kiln. At the 
 works of this company there are IS of these 
 kilns in shape like a circular lime kiln, built 
 of ordinary brick and lined with fire brick. 
 They are 20 feet high and 12 feet diameter 
 inside, each one having a capacity of over 
 25 tons of coal. When this amount of 
 Boghead cannel is introduced it is covered 
 with about four tons of Cumberland coal and 
 a quantitj' of pine wood. This is set on 
 fire, and at the same time the steam jet is 
 let on. The heated gases from the com- 
 bustibles above pass through the bituminous 
 materials below ; but little air reaches these 
 that is not already de))rived of its power of 
 sustaining further combustion. The volatile 
 products are gradually ex])clled before the 
 slowly increasing lieat, and the operation is 
 not completed till the expiration of four 
 days. It is hastened or checked, as may be 
 necessary, by means of the steam jet by 
 
 which the draught is controlled. What is 
 left in the kiln is unconsumed coal and ashes 
 — no good coke is produced. The condens- 
 ers at these works are tall cylinders of boil- 
 er-plate iron. Passing through a succession 
 of these the vapors collect and trickle down 
 tlieir sides, and the mixed oily and aqueous 
 products are received into iron vats placed 
 in the ground. The uncondensable gases 
 escape into the open air from the top of the 
 last of the cylinders. From the vats the oil 
 rising to the surface flows over into a con- 
 duit that leads to a large cistern in the 
 ground of the capacity of 40,000 gallons. 
 The water at the same time is discharged by 
 a pipe, one end of which is at the bottom 
 of the vat, and the other is bent over its up- 
 per edge, the flow being caused by the dif- 
 ference of an inch in the elevation of the 
 suiface of the two vats. Some oil ;s car- 
 ried over into the second vat, and this is 
 separated by a repetition of the same ar- 
 rangement, and so on through several vats, 
 till the ammoniacal waters are finally allowed 
 to escape after being first received into a 
 large cistern, where some oil still collects 
 upon the surface, and is removed by occa- 
 sional skimming. 
 
 Still another method of conducting the dry 
 distillation is by the introduction of highly 
 heated steam into the retorts, as patented 
 by Mr. William Brown, in 1853, in England 
 and in this country, though this seems also 
 to have been used in the original operations 
 of Selligue in Franco. The etlect of the 
 steam is to aid in heating the charge, while 
 at the same time the vapors are taken up 
 and carried along by it, and protected from 
 being burned or decomposed by remaining 
 in contact with the hot suifaces of the re- 
 tort. In the subsequent distillation of the 
 crude oil, high steam is similarly applied in 
 the stills. 
 
 Nearly the same process of refining is 
 practised at all the factories. The crude oil 
 is pumped up into large stills of cast or 
 boiler-plate iron, with cast-iron bottoms two 
 inches thick. The capacity of these at the 
 works above referred to is 1500 gallons 
 each, and the time required for distilling ofi' 
 this amount of oil is 24 hours. They arc 
 heated by fires of anthiacite and c<ike, the 
 latter being itself a product of the distilla- 
 tion and obtained from the inside of the stills 
 after each heat. It is deposited from the crude 
 oil and forms a solid and extremely hard in- 
 crustation which is sometimes nearly a foot 
 
HYDROCARBON OR COAL OILS. 
 
 159 
 
 thick upon the bottom of the stills. It 
 is a much superior coke to that obtained 
 from the gas retorts, and in its structure is 
 coarsely honey-combed in the upper or last 
 formed portions, gradually growing closer 
 and more compact toward the bottom 
 upon which it adlieres. The distillation 
 should be conducted at a temperature not 
 exceeding 800° F., and the process maj' be 
 rendered continuous by admitting a small 
 stream of oil into the stills. The vapors 
 passing through the goose-neck are con- 
 densed in a long worm kept in the water con- 
 denser, which should bo, in the latter part of 
 the distillation, at a temperature of 80° or 
 more. It is necessary to guard against so low 
 temperatui'c as might cause the paraffine to 
 solidify in the worm, wliich by st(ip|>ing the 
 flow of the products might result in blowing 
 up the still. The heat is carefully regulated 
 so that the oil comes over uniforndy, flowing 
 from the end of the worm in a steady stream. 
 It is still of a greenish color, wilh more or less 
 of its peculiar, disagreeable odor. Yet it is 
 evidently purified to a considerable extent 
 bv its separation fi-om the free carbon and 
 other impurities, usually amounting to 10 
 or 12 per cent., which are left behind in 
 the stills. The oils are next pumped into 
 hu-go cylindrical cisterns called agitators, to 
 imdergo the chemical treatment, which is 
 in general the same as that practised by 
 Sellifrue. An addition is nuide to them of a 
 quantity of sulphuric acid, it may be to the 
 amount of 5 per cent. The mixture is 
 then violently agitatecl or made to sweep 
 rapidly round by stiirers in the cisterns, 
 moved by machinery. The pure oil and 
 paraffine are unaffected by the chemical 
 agents, but the carbonaceous particles and 
 coloring matters are more or less charred and 
 oxidized, and their condition is so changed 
 that when the mixture is left for some hours 
 to repose, thev subside in great part togeth- 
 er with the acid, and these can then be 
 drawn off leaving the partially purified oil in 
 the upper portion of the cisterns. This is 
 ne\t washed with about one fifth its quantity 
 of water, which retnoves tlie soluble impu- 
 rities and a portion of the remaining acid. 
 These, after subsiding, being drawn off, a 
 strong Ive of potash or soda is introduced 
 into the oil, which neutralizes and fixes what 
 acid remains, and ca\ises the precipitation of 
 flirt her portions of the coloring and tarry 
 matters. The mixture is again agitated and 
 is then left six hours to repose, after which 
 
 the sediment being drawn off, it is again 
 washed with water, and this too, with the 
 matters it has taken up, are drawn off. In 
 some places chalk or lime has been employ- 
 ed instead of the alkaline lye to neutralize 
 and fix the acid, and the chemical treatment, 
 as it is called, is in other respects variously 
 modified. Thougli tliis has been designated 
 the "cold" treatment, the temperature should 
 not be allowed to fall below 90° during these 
 processes. 
 
 At last the oils freed from most of their 
 impurities are introduced into stills like 
 those of the first set. The product which 
 first comes over is a very light oil somewhat 
 discolored, which is soon followed by a clear 
 oil having little odor. This gradually in- 
 creases in density from 0.733 to 0.820, up 
 to which point the mixture of oils is class- 
 ed as illuminating, and is without further 
 preparation sufhciently pure to be at once 
 barrelled fm- the market. After this the in- 
 creasing depth of the color and the greater 
 density of the product indicate that the 
 light oils have been nearly exhausted, and 
 the remaining portions are hence kept by 
 themselves to afford the heavy lubricating 
 oils, and also it may be, by means of fiac- 
 tional distillation, the additional quantities 
 of light oils they still contain, and finally 
 the paiafRne which is chiefly concentrated 
 with the last portions. This substance when 
 sejiarated fnnn the oils by filtration and 
 pressiu'e at low temperatures, is of a dark 
 color and somewhat oflensive odor; and to 
 bleach and deodorize it have proved to be 
 somewhat troublesome and expensive opera- 
 tions. Exposure to the sunlight has a bleach- 
 ing eft'ect; but the jirocesses for this purpo.se 
 have not yet been made public. When ob- 
 tained perfectly pure and white, difficulties 
 have been encountered in running it into 
 candles, which are not common to other ma- 
 terials used for this purpose. When cooled 
 in ordinary moulds the paraffine would crack 
 in lines radiating from the wick, and the ex- 
 terior would present a clouded, mottled sur- 
 face. The method of obviating this difficul- 
 ty, as described in the French work, " Le 
 Technologist e," of 1859, is to use a mould 
 in. two parts, that part for the point of the 
 candle working in the other like a piston. 
 These moulds being brought to the temper- 
 ature of melted paraffine are filled and then 
 immediately plunged into water at nearly the 
 freezing point. Having remained 3 or 4 
 minutes, they are taken out and exposed to 
 
160 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 a current of cool air for 15 or 20 minutes. 
 The candles then come out, as the movable 
 part of the mould is pushed in, free from 
 defects. This method is successfulh' intro 
 diiced into the United States. Parafflnc 
 candles have been made at some of the coal 
 oil works, as at those of Xew York, New 
 Bedford, and Portland. They are of beauti- 
 ful appearance, resembling the best sperm 
 candles, and at the same time are more eco- 
 nomical for the amount of light they afford. 
 The oil that is pressed out from the paraffine 
 is useful chiefly as a lubricator, and from the 
 low tompei'ature at which it is obtained, if 
 for no other reason, it is insured against 
 chilling in cold weather. The residue in 
 the stills, is a mixture of the tarry matters 
 with the portion of the chemical ingredients 
 that was introduced with the oils. For this 
 no use is found. The heavy oils find their 
 principal application in lubricating machin- 
 ery, and large quantities are consumed for 
 this purpose upon the Western railroads. 
 The heavier natural oils of C)hio, when wash- 
 ed clean from the sand that comes up with 
 them, are also very well adapted for this 
 use ; but it is found advantageous to mix 
 either the crude or manufactured article 
 ■with an equal quantity of lard oil. The 
 petroleum corrects the tendency of this to 
 gum and chill, while it receives additional 
 body from the lard oil. Another use for 
 the heavy oils is for cleansing wool in the 
 M-oollen fectories, and where they have been 
 tried for this purpose, they have been pre- 
 ferred to other oils. In currying leather, 
 also, they are said to have proved a good 
 substitute for fish oil. Experiments have 
 been made with them in C)hio, for mixing 
 paints, and the crude heavier kinds, as those 
 of Mecca, treated in the same manner as 
 linseed oil, boiling them with dryers, etc., 
 formed a good body, covered the wood well, 
 di'ic<l rapid!}' and perfectly, and formed a 
 smooth, hard surface, retaining no od<ir. 
 The great abundance of the supply of petro- 
 leum .at the West induced some speculation 
 as to the probability of the hydrocarbon 
 oils being usuil for fiiel for steamboats, loco- 
 motives, and wherever a liighly concentrated, 
 portable, and manageable fuel is required. 
 For domestic uses, also, such as require a 
 fire onl}' a little while at a time, the coal 
 oils were conveniently used in suitable stoves 
 in the same manner that ga9 is applied to 
 the same purpose. But experiments are 
 wanting to establish the rate per gallon al 
 
 which it might enter into competition with 
 other fuels upon a larger scale. Besides tha 
 heavy and light oils, no other valuable pro- 
 ducts result from the distillation of the coal 
 oils. Benzole is sai<l not to be a product of 
 this process. It belongs, together with a 
 special class of hydrocarbons designated as 
 the benzole series, to the tar of the gas 
 works ; and if ever obtained in the coal oil 
 distillation, it was declared that it must be 
 by bad management and tiie use of excess 
 of heat. It was found, after the discovery 
 and practical adoption of the petroleum as 
 an illuminating fluid, that from this, by tha 
 refining and distilling processes, not only 
 benzine but naptha and other still more vol- 
 atile hydrocarbons were produced, and the 
 princi])al difficulty in reducing the petroleum 
 to a safe and non-explosive illuminator was 
 to rid it of these very volatile oils. It is 
 probable that they did exist in nearly the 
 same form in the coal oils but had not been 
 skilfully eliminated at first. 
 
 The lighter coal oils were superior in 
 many respects to most of the articles pre- 
 viously used for purposes of illumination. 
 Their odor, though not very agreeable, was 
 better than that of most of the sperm or lard 
 oils, and the spots made by spilling them on 
 articles of dress or furniture were removed 
 with less ditRculty than those of the fatty 
 oils. They were also far less liable to ex- 
 plosion than the so-called " burning fluids," 
 which were previously in very general use, 
 but were constantly proilucing terrible acci- 
 dents and loss of life. They were, if burned 
 in properly-constructed lamps, much less dis- 
 agreeable and liable to smoke than campliene. 
 
 But the reign of the coal oils for purposes 
 of illumination was destined to be of short 
 duration ; for petroleiun, or as it came to be 
 called when refined for illumhiating purposes, 
 "kerosene oil," became fo abundant in I8GI 
 and 1862, and received such an extensive 
 develoi)ment, that the distillation of oil from 
 coals, both for illuminating and lubricating 
 purposes almost ceased after 1 803. An effort 
 was, indeed, made in ISG.'J and 1864 to dis- 
 til these oils on a large scale from the bitu- 
 minous shales of Kentucky ; but though the 
 material could be had at tlie cost of breaking 
 it up, and the process of distillation was very 
 simple, the flowing wells of Western Penn- 
 sylvania, and West Virginia, fin-nished crude 
 petroleum so cheaply that this undertaking 
 proved unprofitable. 
 
PETROLEUM, OR ROCK Oil. 
 
 161 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 PETROLEUM, OR ROCK OIL. 
 
 The occwrrence of an oily fluid oozing in 
 some regions from the surface of the earth, 
 coming out with the springs of water, and 
 forming a layer upon its surface, has been 
 noticed from ancient times, and the oil has 
 been collected by excavating pits and canals, 
 and also by sinking deep wells. Bakoo, a 
 town on the west side of the Caspian Sea in 
 Georgia, has long been celebrated for its 
 s])ring.s of a very pure variety of petroleum 
 or naphtha, and the annual value of this 
 product, according to M. Abicli, is about 
 3,000,000 francs, and might easily be made 
 as large again. Over a tract about 25 miles 
 long and half a mile wide, the strata, which 
 are chiefly argillaceous sandstones of loose 
 texture, belonging to the medial tertiary 
 formation, are saturated with the oil, and 
 hold it like a sponge. To collect it large 
 open wells are sunk to the depth of 16 to 
 20 feet, and in these the oil gathers and is 
 occasionally taken out. That obtained near 
 the centre of the tract is clear, slightly yel- 
 low, like Sauteme wine, and as pure as dis- 
 tilled oil. Toward the margins of the tract 
 the oil is more colored, first a yellowish 
 green, then reddish brown. In the environs 
 of Bakoo arc! hills of volcanic rocks through 
 which bituminous springs flow out. Jets 
 of carburetted hydrogen are common in the 
 district, and salt, which is almost always 
 found with petroleum springs, abounds in 
 the neighborhood. 
 
 Another famous locality of natural oils is 
 in Burmah, on the banks of the Irrawaddy, 
 
 near Prome. Fifty years ago it was reported 
 there were about 520 wells in this region, 
 and the oil from them was used for the sup- 
 ply of the whole empire and many parts of 
 India. The town of Rainanghong is the 
 centre of the oil district, and its inhabitants 
 are chiefly employed in manufacturing earth- 
 en jars for the oil, immense numbers of 
 which are stacked in pyranjids outside the! 
 town, like shot in an arsenal. The forma- 
 tion containing the oil consists of sandy- 
 clays resting on sandstones and slates. The 
 lowest bed reached by the open wells, which 
 are sometimes 60 feet deep, is a pale blue 
 argillaceous slate. Under this is said to be 
 coal (tertiary ?) The oil diips from the 
 slates into the wells, and is collected as at 
 Bakoo. The annual product is variously 
 stated at 412,000 hogsheads, and at 8,000,- 
 000 pounds. 
 
 The Burmese petroleum has recently been 
 imported into Great Britain, and is employ- 
 ed at the great candle manufactory of 
 Messrs. Price & Co., at Belmont and Sher- 
 wood. It is described as a semi-fluid naph- 
 tha, about the consistence of goose grease, 
 of a greenish brown color, and a peculiar, 
 but not disagreeable odor. It is used by the 
 natives, in the condition in which they ob- 
 tain it, as a lamp-fuel, as a preservati\e of 
 timber against insects, and as a medicine. 
 It is imported in hermetically closed metal- 
 lic tanks, to prevent the loss of any of its 
 constituents by evaporation. At the works 
 it is distilled first with steam under ordinary 
 pressure, and then by steam at successively 
 increasing temperatures, with the following 
 results : — 
 
 Teinneraturo. 
 
 Fahr. 
 Below 212° 
 
 Troportional 
 
 product. 
 
 11 
 
 230" to 293° 
 
 10 
 
 293° to 320° 
 
 
 320° 10 612° 
 
 20 
 
 About 612° 
 
 31 
 
 
 (21 
 
 Above 612° 
 
 \ 3 
 
 
 i 
 
 Character of product. 
 Mixture of fluid hydrocarbons free from parafBne. 
 
 " " " containing a little paraffine. 
 
 Distillate very small in quantity. 
 Containing paraffine, but still fluid at 32°. 
 
 Product whicli solidifies on cooling, and may be submitted to pressure. 
 Fluids witli much paraffine. 
 Pitchy matters. 
 Besidue of coke, and a little earthy matter in the still. 
 
 Nearly all the paraffine may be separated 
 from the distillates by exposing these to 
 freezing mixtures ; and the total product of 
 this solid hydrocarbon is estimated at 10 or 
 11 per cent. 
 
 Many other localities might be named 
 which furnish the natural oils upon a less 
 extensive scale, as in Italy, France, and Switz- 
 erland. In Cuba impure varieties of bitu- 
 10* 
 
 men are met with flowing up through fissures 
 in the rocks and .spreading over the surface 
 in a tarry incrustation, which sometimes so- 
 lidifies on cooling. In the island of Trin- 
 idad, three fourths of a mile back from the 
 coast, is a lake called the Tar Lake, a mile 
 and a half in circumference, apparently filled 
 with impure petroleum and asphaltum. The 
 latter, more or less charged in its numerous 
 
162 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 cavities with liquid bitumen, forms a solid 
 crust around the margin of the lake, and in 
 the centre the materials appear to be in a 
 liquid boiling condition. The varieties 
 contain more or less oil, and methods have 
 been devised of extracting this ; but the 
 chief useful ap]ilication of the material seems 
 to be for coating the timbers of ships to 
 protect them from decay. By the patent- 
 ed process of Messrs. Atvvood of New York, 
 the crude tar of this locality having been 
 twice subjected to distillation, and treated 
 with sulphuric acid and afterward with an 
 alkali, as in the method of purifying the 
 coal oils, is then further purified by tlie use 
 of permanganite of soda or of potash. Be- 
 ing again distilled it yields an oil of specific 
 gravity 0.900, which'is fluid at 32° F., and 
 boils at GOO'^ F. 
 
 In the I'nited States the existence of pe- 
 troleum has long been known, and the arti- 
 cle lias been collected and sold for medicinal 
 purposes ; chiefly for an external application, 
 though sometimes administered internally. 
 It was formerly procured by the Seneca In- 
 dians in western New York and Pennsyl- 
 vania, and was hence known as Seneca or 
 Genesee oil. At various [ilaces it was rec- 
 ognized along a belt of country passing 
 from this portion of New York across the 
 nortli-west part of Pennsylvania into Ohio. 
 In the last-named state it was obtained in 
 such ([uantity in the year 1819, by means 
 of wells sunk for salt water, that it is a little 
 remarkable the value of the material was not 
 then appreciated, and the means perceived 
 of obtaining it to any amount. The follow- 
 ing description of the operations connected 
 with the salt boiings then in progress on 
 the Little Muskingum, in the south-western 
 part, of the state, written in 1819, was first 
 published in the American Journal of Sci- 
 ence in 1826: " They have sunk two wells 
 which are now more than 400 feet in depth; 
 one of them alTords a very strong and ptii'e 
 water, but not in great quantity. The other 
 discharges sm'h vast quantities of jietroleum, 
 or as it is vulgarly called, ' Seneka oil,' and 
 besides is subject to such tremendous explo- 
 sions of gas, as to force out all the water 
 and afl'ord nothing but gas for several days, 
 that they make but little or no salt. Never- 
 theless, the petroleimi affords considerable 
 profit, and is beginning to be in demand for 
 lamps in workshops and manufactones. It 
 art'ords a clear blight light, when burnt in 
 this w;a\', and will be a valuable article for 
 
 lighting the street lamps in the future cities 
 of Ohio." Several coal-beds were penetrated 
 in sinking these wells. 
 
 In north-western Pennsylvania the exist- 
 ence of oil in the soil along the valleys of 
 some of the streams was known to the early 
 settlers. One stream, in consequence of its 
 appearance in the banks, was called Oil 
 Creek. In other localities also it was no- 
 ticed, and similar occurrences of oil were 
 observed at some places in western Virginia 
 and eastern Kentucky. At Tarentum above 
 Pittsburg, oil was obtained by boring about 
 the year 1845. Two springs were opened 
 in boring for salt, and they have continued 
 to yield small quantities of oil, sometimes a 
 barrel a daj-. This has been used only for 
 medicinal purposes. On Oil Creek two lo- 
 calities were especially noted, one close to 
 the northern line of Venango conntv, half a 
 mile below the village of Titusville, and one 
 14 miles further down the stream, a mile 
 above its entrance into the Allegliany river. 
 All the way below the upper locality through 
 the narrow valley of the creek are ancient 
 pits covering acres of ground, once dug and 
 used for collecting oil after the method now 
 practised in Asia. Cleared from the mud 
 and rubbish with which they are- mostly fill- 
 ed, some of them are found to be supported 
 at the sides with logs notched at the ends as 
 if done by whites, and it has been supposed 
 by some that this is the work of the French 
 who occupied that region the first half of the 
 last century. Others think the Indians dug 
 the pits, and in proof of this they cite the 
 account given by Day, in his " History of 
 Pennsylvania," of the use of the oil by the 
 Seneca Indians as an unguent and in their 
 religious worship. They mixed with it their 
 paint with which they anointed themselves 
 for war ; and on occasions of their most im- 
 portant assemblages, as was graphically de- 
 scribed by the commandant of Fort Du- 
 quesne in a letter to General Montcalm, they 
 set fire to the scum of oil which had collect- 
 ed on the surface of the water, and at sight 
 of the flames gave forth triumphant shouts 
 which made the hills re-echo again. In this 
 ceremony the commandant thought he saw 
 revived the ancient fire worship, such as was 
 once practised in Bakoo, the sacred city of 
 the Guebres or Fire Worshippers. 
 
 The old maps of this portion of Pennsyl- 
 vania indicate several places in Venango and 
 Crawfor«l counties where oil sjMings had been 
 noted by the early .settlers. They made some 
 
PETROLEUM, OR ROCK OIL. 
 
 103 
 
 use of the uil, collecting it b\- spreading a 
 woollen cloth upon the pools of water below 
 the spi-ings, and when the cloth was satu- 
 rated with the oil wringing it out into vessels. 
 The two springs referred to on Oil Creek 
 furnished small quantities of oil as it was re- 
 quired, and from a third, twelve miles below 
 Titnsville in the middle of the creek, the own- 
 er lias procured 20 barrels or more of oil in 
 a year.* In 1854 Messrs Eveletli and Bissell 
 of New York purchased the upper spring, 
 and leased mineral rights o\-er a portion of 
 the \alk'y. They then obtained from Prof. 
 B. Silliman, jr., of New Haven a report upon 
 the qualities of the oil, and in 1855 organ- 
 ized a comjiany in New York called the 
 " Pennsylvania Rock Oil Company," to en- 
 gage in its exploration. The .same year a 
 new company under the same name, formed 
 in New Haven and organized under the laws 
 of Connecticut, succeeded to the riglits of 
 the old company ; but for two years they 
 made no progress in develo|)ing the re- 
 sources of the property they had acquired. 
 In December, 1857, thoj- concluded an agree- 
 ment with Messrs. Bowditch and Drake of 
 New Haven to undertake the search for oil. 
 To the enterprise of Col. E. L. Drake, who 
 removed to Titnsville and prosecuted the 
 business in the face of serious obstacles, the 
 region is indebted for the important results 
 which followed. After a well had been 
 sunk and curbed near the spring, ten feet 
 square and sixteen feet deep, boring was 
 commenced in the spring of 1850, and on 
 the i!6th of August, at the depth of seventy- 
 one feet, the diill suddenly sank four inches, 
 and when taken out the oil rose within five 
 inches of the surface. At first a small pump 
 threw up about 400 gallons daily. By in- 
 troducing a larger one the flow was increased 
 to 1000 gallons in the same time. Though 
 the pumping was continued by steam power 
 for months no diminution was experienced 
 in the flow. Tlie success of this enterprise 
 produced great excitement, and the lands up- 
 on the creek were soon leased to parties, who 
 undertook to bore for oil for a certain share 
 of the product, sometimes advancing besides 
 a moderate sum to the owner. 
 
 The country was overrun by explorers for 
 favorable sites for new wells, and borings 
 were undertaken along the valley of the Al- 
 
 * See a pamplilet by Thomas A. Gale, published 
 In Erie, Penn , 1860, entitled "Rock Oil in Pennsyl- 
 vania and elsewhere." 
 
 leghany river, and up the French Creek 
 above Franklin. The summer of 1860 wit- 
 nessed unwonted activity and enterprise in 
 this hitherto quiet portion of the state, whore 
 the population had before known no other 
 pursuits than farming and lumbeiing. Every 
 farm along the deep, narrow valleys, sudden- 
 ly acquired an extraordinary value, and in 
 the vicinity of the most successful wells vil- 
 lages sprung up as in California during the 
 gold excitement, and new branches of manu- 
 facture were all at once introduced for sup- 
 plying to the oil men the barrels required 
 for the oil and the tools employed in boring 
 the wells. From Titnsville to the mouth of 
 Oil Creek, about 1 5 miles, the derricks of the 
 well borers were everywhere seen. On the 
 Alleghany river the number below Tidioute 
 in Warren eountj-, south into Venango coun- 
 t}', showed that this portion of the district 
 was especially pi-oductive, and the same 
 might be said of the vicinity of the town 
 of Franklin, both up the Alleghany river and 
 French Creek. The wells had amounted to 
 several hundred, or according to one pub- 
 lished statement, to full 2000 in number be- 
 fore the close of the year, and from an esti- 
 mate published in the Venango Spectator, 
 (Franklin) 74 of these on the 21st of No- 
 vember were producing the following daily 
 yield : — 
 
 No. of wells. Prod. tbis. 
 
 On Oil Creek, 33 485 
 
 " Upper Alleghany river, 20 442 
 
 Franklin, 15 139 
 
 Two Mile Run, 3 64 
 
 French Creek, 3 35 
 
 Total, 1i 1165 
 
 The capacity of the barrel is 40 gallons, and 
 at the low estimate of only 20 cents tlie gal- 
 lon the total value of the daily product is 
 not far from $10,000. The depth of the 
 wells is in a few instances less than 100 feet. 
 The shallowest one reported, belonging to 
 the Tidioute Island Oil Company, was 67 
 feet deep, and its product was 30 barrels a 
 day. In general the depth is from 180 to 
 280 feet; one well in Fi'anklin is 502 feet in 
 depth, and one on Oil Creek 425 feet. Tlie 
 deepest wells are not the most productive, 
 and the fact of their being extended beyond 
 the ordinary depths may generally be con- 
 sidered an evidence of their failure to pro- 
 duce much oil. There are exceptions, how- 
 ever, to this, one of the deepest wells, that 
 of Hoover and Stewart, three miles below 
 Franklin, producing largely of excellent oil. 
 
164 
 
 MINING INDHSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 The selection of localities for boring is 
 verj' much a matter of chance. Proximity 
 to profhictive wells is the fii'st desideratum ; 
 but this, when attainable, is not always at- 
 tended with success. The oil does not ap- 
 pear to be spread out, as the rocks lie in 
 horizontal sheets, or if so there are many 
 places where it does not find its way iietweon 
 tlie strata, and wells near together from 
 which oil is pumped do not always draw 
 upon each other. No doubt the system of 
 crevices and pervious strata through which 
 the oil flows in its subterranean cui'rents, is 
 very irregular and interrupted. The valleys 
 to which the operations are limited are nar- 
 row, and are bounded on each side by hills, 
 the summits of which, from 2.50 to 400 feet 
 above the bottoms, are on the general level 
 of the country. The increased expense that 
 would be incurred in sinking from the upper 
 surftice and in afterward raising the oil to 
 this height, as also the uncertainty of find- 
 ing oil elsewhere than in the valleys, have so 
 far prevented the exploratioirs being extend- 
 ed beyond the creek and river bottoms ; but 
 it cannot be long before the capacity of the 
 broad districts between the streams to pro- 
 duce oil is thoroughly tested. At present 
 the most favorable sites are supposed to be 
 near a break in the hills that form the mar- 
 gin of the valley, as where a branch comes 
 into the main stream. An experiment is al- 
 ready undertaken to test the high grounds 
 west of Tidioute branch. 
 
 As the bituminous coals are known as a 
 source of hydrocarbon oils, it is natural to 
 suppose that the springs of oil found near 
 the coal region are fed from the coal beds or 
 bituminous shales of the coal formation. 
 But it happens that only a few oil springs 
 of western Pennsylvania have been struck 
 in the coal-measures themselves, and that 
 some of these are sunk into the underlying 
 groups of rock to reach the supplies of oil. 
 The oil districts are in general outside of the 
 coal-field and upon the outcrop of lower 
 formations which pass beneath the coal-meas- 
 ures, the whole having a general conformity 
 of dip. Uence the slope of the strata is 
 toward the coal, and an obstacle is thus pre- 
 sented to the flow of the oil fiom the coal- 
 field toward its margin ; and though under 
 some circumstances the elastic pressure of 
 the carburetted hydrogen gas might force 
 the oil considerable distances from its source, 
 it is hardly to be supposed that this should 
 first find its way down into lower formations 
 
 and then be carried many miles (;}0 to 50) 
 and find its outlet in another district, rather 
 than to the surfiice at some nearer point. 
 The strata of north-western Pennsvlvania 
 lie nearly horizontallv, their general inclina- 
 tion being toward the south. The highest 
 rock upon the summits of the hills of the 
 oil region is the conglomerate or pebbly 
 rock (the floor of the coal-measures). Be- 
 neath this are series of thin bedded sand- 
 stones, slates, and shales, alternating with 
 each other with frequent repetitions. The 
 shales, often of an olive green color, are read- 
 ily recognized as belonging to the Chemung 
 and Portage groups of the New York geol- 
 ogists — a formation which overspreads this 
 portion of the country, extending in New 
 York two thirds of the way toward Lake 
 Ontario and as far east as Binghamton. It 
 is also continued through Ohio, crossing the 
 C)hio river at Portsmouth, and in this state 
 is known as the AYaverley series. Under this 
 is a heavy bed of bituminous shale, 200 or 
 300 feet thick, called in Ohio the black slate 
 and in New York the Hamilton shales. This 
 group contains an immense amount of car- 
 bonaceous matter, and oil is often dissem- 
 inated through it. Sometimes it runs out 
 in springs and finds an outlet by the occa- 
 sional fissures in the beds. Dr. J. S. New- 
 berr)', who has given much attention to this 
 suliject, is of opinion that this formation 
 contaius sufficient carbonaceous material to 
 be the source of the oil, and that the more 
 porous and open shales and sandstones of 
 higher formations are its reservoii's. Such 
 is the geological formation of the Seneca oil 
 region and of the oil springs of Canada 
 West, which are the districts affording this 
 product most remote from the coal-field. 
 But from whatever source the oil may be 
 derived, its origin is at the best very ob- 
 scure, and little light can be thrown upon 
 the probability of the supply long enduring 
 the heavy drain made upon it by hundreds 
 of wells worked by powerful steam pumps. 
 But though actual experience alone must 
 determine the extent of the quantities of oil 
 stored up and the period they will last, there 
 is certainly encouragement to be drawn from 
 the never-failing yield of the oil districts of 
 Asia, which for centuries have poured forth 
 without stint their rivers of oil. 
 
 The sinking of wells is conducted after 
 the usual method of boring artesian wells. 
 After much uncertain consideration of the 
 chances, a particular spot is selected, more, 
 
PETROLEUM, OR ROCK OIL. 
 
 165 
 
 perliaps, from the hope of its being the right 
 one than from any very practical grounds 
 for tlie clioice ; but as the oil flows only in 
 ciovices among the strata, the location is 
 fre(|U<'ntly determined — other things being 
 etiiial — bv the prospect of reaching the rock 
 at a fc^w foet fi'om the surface, and thereby 
 avoiding the necessity of sinking an open well 
 or driving pipes through unknown obstacles 
 down to the rock. If the bed rock is found 
 within ten or fifteen feet, the boring is be- 
 gun at once. The derrick being raised, an 
 elm, hickory, hemlock, or other elastic tim- 
 ber is cut down, some 25 or ;?0 feet in length. 
 The larger end is fixed in a notch of a tree, or 
 heavy post planted in the ground, and another 
 post is set under it at a distance from the 
 but determined bv the elasticity of the tim- 
 ber. The .spring of the pole should be suf- 
 ficient to raise the drill quickly, with its 
 iron connecting rods, weighing often 800 
 pounds. The rods are suspended from the 
 free end of the pole by a swivel or simple 
 bolt-head, turning freely around. At the 
 commencement of the boring, the rods being 
 very short do not weigh more, including the 
 drill, than 70 or 80 pounds. Two men, 
 therefore, jerk them forcibly down, to in- 
 crease the momentum of the drill; the spring 
 of the pole immediately raises the drill f )r 
 the next stroke, while at each blow a man 
 gives it a slight iuin so that it may cut a 
 round hole. Several other methods are em- 
 ployed for making the pole spring; by one, 
 which is conveniently worked without em- 
 ploying steam or horse power, a sort of 
 double stirrup is suspended from the pole 
 into which two men place each a foot, and 
 pressing the stirrup suddenly down it imme- 
 diately springs up again with the drill. This 
 is much used, though some wells are sunk by 
 horse-power machinery, and some by steam 
 engines of four or five horse power. 
 
 As the well is constantly deepening, while 
 the stroke of the spring-pole (about 80 inch- 
 es) remains constant, a vertical adjusting 
 screw about 1 8 inches in length is attached 
 to the end of the spring-pole ; the rope is 
 clamped to the lower end or nut of this 
 screw, and then extended to the pulley above. 
 As the well deepens, a slight turn of the 
 screw lowers the rope with the rods attached 
 to it, and thus keeps the drill always free to 
 fall to the bottom with an equal stroke. The 
 work is continued, by a constant succession 
 of strokes, to a depth of about fifty feet, 
 successive lengths of iron rods being screw- 
 
 ed on as the hole deepens — increasing the 
 weight of the tools to about 300 pounds. 
 The u.se of any additional rods is then dis- 
 pensed with, and the upper rod is suspended 
 by a rope attached to the spring-pole, and 
 continued above the pole around a pulley 
 and windlass, used to raise the boring tools 
 when it is necessary to draw them out. 
 They are drawn up in this manner at inter- 
 vals of an hour or two, in order to sharpen 
 and temper the drill, and to make room for 
 the sand pump. This is a thin iron tube, a 
 little more than half the diameter of the hole, 
 with a simple valve at the bottom opening up- 
 ward. It is lowered by a cord to the bottom 
 of the well, then raised up with a jerk, and suf- 
 fered to drop again by its own weight. This is 
 repeated quickly eight or ten times ; a whirl 
 is thus produced in the water below which 
 stirs up the mud and small pieces of broken 
 stone; as the tube drops, the mud and small 
 stones enter the open valve and are retained 
 when the tube is drawn out. 
 
 The jarrers are employed to increase the 
 force of the spring-pole when the drill hap- 
 pens to be wedged in the hole b)' broken 
 pieces of stone or by other obstructions. 
 They are two rectangnlar links about 18 
 inches in length, formed of stout bars of 
 iron, and connecting the upper rods with the 
 lower. When the drill descends to the bot- 
 tom, the upper link, as it descends, slips 
 down eight or ten inches in the lower link, 
 and when the pole springs up the upper link 
 has the advantage of moving through this 
 space, and thereby giving a sudden upward 
 jerk to the drill rod. The force of this up- 
 ward jerk is greatly increased by a heavy rod 
 introduced above the upper link, and which, 
 as it moves up, lends its momentum to the 
 stroke. 
 
 The hole is carried down by three men 
 at dift'orent rates according to the nature 
 of the strata encountered, varying from a 
 foot or less to six feet in a day. In tlie 
 hard sandstones of quartz pebbles firmly uni- 
 ted together, two or three inches sinking in 
 li3 hours may be all the progress practicable. 
 The material brought up is carefully scanned 
 for any oily appearance indicating the prox- 
 imity of oil, and the well is watched to ob- 
 serve if any carburetted hydrogen gas escapes 
 from it, which is considered a favorable sign. 
 
 The process of drilling in the rock is con- 
 sidered by all concerned in boring for petro- 
 leum, a very simple and even welcome oper- 
 ation, especially when contrasted with the 
 
166 
 
 MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 uncertainties and appreliensions that sur- 
 round the driving of pipes. At the outset, 
 the cost of four iron pipes and bands long 
 enough to reach a depth of forty feet, is 
 equal to that of a complete set of boring 
 tools with the rods and ropes sufficient to 
 bore half a dozen wells of 300 feet each in 
 depth. There is often great uncertainty of 
 knowing how deep the pipes will have to be 
 driven, and it is impossible to foresee the 
 various obstacles through which they have 
 to go. When the work has gone down suc- 
 cessfully 70 or even 1 00 feet, the lowest pipe 
 is often suddenly broken or takes an oblique 
 direction. The pipes in the ground are then 
 abandoned, and a new set driven in another 
 place, although in several instances pipes 
 reaching CO feet in depth have been pulled 
 up by a lever and axle, with chains or rods 
 attached to a lewis wedge driven into the 
 bottom pipe. 
 
 ' The pipes are of cast iron, generally ten 
 or twelve feet long, about five inches bore, 
 and the shell full an inch thick. The lower 
 end of the first pipe is not sharpened, but 
 is driven down blunt as it comes from the 
 mould. The pipes are fastened together in 
 the simplest manner possible, by wrought- 
 iron bands, the ends being turned off, leav- 
 ing a neck somewhat larger than the interior 
 diameter of the bands, to receive them when 
 expanded by heat. 
 
 Through common earth or gravel the 
 pipes are forced down by the ordinary proc- 
 ess of pile-driving ; but when large stones 
 are encountered, or round boulders as large 
 as a man's head, there is great risk of break- 
 ing or turning the jiipes. As soon, there- 
 fore, as the pipes meet with any great resist- 
 ance the driving is suspended and the drill 
 is applied to break up the stone or to bore 
 a circular hole in it, which is afterward 
 reamed out as large as the interior diameter 
 of the pipes. The driving is then resumed, 
 and in soft shales the pipes are often forced 
 on, crushing down the sides of the hole, and 
 making their way through to the depth of 
 12 or 1.5 inches in the rocky stratum. 
 
 The cost of boring a well 200 feet deep 
 is generally estimated at from $1000 to 
 $1500. The latter sum includes the cost 
 of all the tools and materials, and also of a 
 small steam engine, a large tank of pine 
 plank, in which the product is collected for 
 the oil and water to separate, and it also al- 
 lows for such accidents and delays as are 
 common to these operations. 
 
 When the oil is struck it often rises up in 
 the well, sometimes flowing over the top, and 
 in several instances it has burst forth in a jet 
 and played like a fountain, throwing the oil 
 mixed with water high up into the air. Such 
 jets have rarely lasted long, and are usually 
 interrupted by discharges of gas, the elasticity 
 of which drives out with violence the fluids 
 mixed with it, as champagne wine is pro- 
 jected from a bottle on removing the cork. 
 Hundreds of barrels of oil have, however, 
 been wasted at some of the wells for want 
 of means to collect it or stop its flow in its 
 sudden first appearance. At Williams' well, 
 half a mile below Titusville, about 100 bar- 
 rels of oil were collected the first night the 
 oil was reached, and a large quantity besides 
 was lost. A similar event occurred near 
 Tidioute, the oil rushing up so violently as 
 t(5 knock over the laborer who held the drill 
 and to pass through the derrick and over 
 the trees around.. After a time the spouting 
 wells become quiet and the oil settles down, 
 so that it has to be raised by pumping. The 
 pumps are contrived to work at any depth, 
 and by men, or by horse power, or the steam 
 engine. For a time at some of the wells 
 the product has been water alone or water 
 mixed with a little oil ; and after pumping 
 several days this has given place to oil with 
 a moderate proportion of water. If the 
 pumping be suspended for a day water accu- 
 mulates, and it ma}' be several days before 
 this is drawn out and the former yield of oil 
 recovered. The water is generally salt. The 
 flow of oil has rarely if ever been known to 
 fail entirely except by reason of some ob- 
 struction in the wells, and in such cases it 
 has usually retunicd after the hole has been 
 bored out larger or made deeper. The sup- 
 ply is not, however, altogether regular in 
 any of the wells, even after the flow has set- 
 tled down to a moderate production of 10 
 or 15 barrels a day. The maximum yield 
 of a well for a considerable time is about 50 
 barrels a day, and from this the jiroduction 
 ranges down to 4 barrels, below which it is 
 considered insufficient to pay expenses. 
 
 The oil and water are conducted from the 
 pumps into the large receiving vats, and 
 after the water has subsided the oil is bar- 
 relled for the market. From the upper Oil 
 Creek it is mostly wagoned to the Union 
 Mills station in Erie county, on the Erie and 
 Sunbury railroad ; and from Tidioute to Ir- 
 vine, at the month of the Broken Straw, od 
 the same road. But most of the oil along 
 
PETROLEUM, OR ROCK OIL. 
 
 167 
 
 the Alleghany river and French Creek is 
 taken by steamboats down the river to I'itts- 
 biirtr. New York city is at present the prin- 
 cipal market, but the country refineries arc al- 
 ready taking a considerable share of the oil. 
 
 Tlie product of the diflei'ent ^yells varies 
 somewhat in quality and value. At Frank- 
 lin the oil for the most part is heavy, mark- 
 ing as low as 33^ Baume, which corresponds 
 to specific gravity 0.864. Some of the wells 
 furnidi oils' of 35° or 3C°— on Oil Creek the 
 range is from 38° to 46°, at Tidioute 43°. 
 The French Creek oils are heavy. It is not 
 unlikely that the depth of the wells may 
 have some ofi'cct upon the ijualit}' of the oil, 
 as from very shalli>w wells those of the light- 
 er varieties must be likely to escape by evap- 
 oration, leaving the heavier portions behind. 
 The oils obtained at Mecca, Trumlmll coun- 
 ty, Ohio, are heavy oils, being thick like 
 goose grease and marking 26° or 27°, which 
 is equivalent to specific gravity 0.900. At 
 Grafton, Lorain county, Ohio, the oil is even 
 darker and thicker than this, marking about 
 25° B. 
 
 With the exception of some light, clear 
 oils of reddish color, the petroleum is usu- 
 allv of a greenish hue, more or less deep and 
 opaque. It has an oflensive smell which is 
 not entirelv removed by the ordinary meth- 
 ods of deodorizing practised in the refineries. 
 The process of purification is similar to that 
 of the coal oil manufiicture, as already de- 
 scribed. The proportion of light oils sepa- 
 rated by distillation varies with the crude 
 petroleum employed. The largest product 
 is about 90 per cent., and from this less 
 amounts are obtained down to about 50 per 
 cent. The properties and uses of these prod- 
 ucts have already been considered in treat- 
 ing of coal oil. 
 
 To complete this account of the petroleum 
 of the United States more particular men- 
 tion should be made of the extension of the 
 district from north-western Pennsylvania in- 
 to New York on one side, and (_)luo on the 
 other. In Chautauqua, Cattaraugus, and Al- 
 legany counties, N. Y., are many places 
 where the appearace of small quantities of 
 oil upon the surface, and the escape of jets 
 of carbnretted hydrogen, indicate the exist- 
 ence of petroleum below; and the names of 
 Olean and another Oil creek, a branch of the 
 Genesee river, suggest the probabilitv of this 
 proving another oil district. About a mile 
 north-west from Cuba in Allegany county, 
 is a pool about 20 feet across and 10 feet 
 
 deep that has always been called an oil 
 spring, its surface being covered with a coat- 
 ing of oil from which supplies have been ob- 
 tained for medicinal pur]ioses. A pipe was 
 sunk into this, and on the 3d of January, 1861, 
 when it had been driven down 20 or 30 feet, 
 oil mixed with water suddenly gushed up 
 with great force. Oil also ap])eared on the 
 water drawn up from an artesian well sunk 
 to the depth of 130 feet in the same vicini- 
 ty. Arrangements arc now in pr(.)grcss for 
 thoroughly testing the capacity of this dis- 
 trict. 
 
 In Ohio the oil-producing counties are 
 Noble, Adams, Franklin, Medina, Lorain, 
 Cuyahoga, Trumbull, Mahoning, and some 
 others. Near Cleveland and in the valley 
 of the Cuyahoga oil appears in many places, 
 but it has not yet proved of much impor- 
 tance. The vicinity of Mecca, Trumbull 
 countv, is the most productive localitv. Op- 
 erations were commenced there in February, 
 1860, and in November it was stated that 
 between 600 and 700 wells had been sunk, 
 and 75 steam engines were in operation 
 pumping oil. Two of the wells were yield- 
 ing from 50 to 100 barrels a day each. This 
 statement is probably much exaggerated, and 
 while others report that several hundred wells 
 have l)ccn sunk, a dozen or moi'e are said to be 
 working profitably. These wells pass through 
 the same formati(jn as those near Titusville, 
 but for the most part they are shallow, rang- 
 ing in depth from 30 to 100 feet, and the most 
 of them not much exceeding 50 feet. About 
 30 miles south-east from Mecca, at Lowell- 
 ville, Mahoning county, a well was sunk 157 
 feet wliieh proved very successful, yielding 
 20 barrels of oil a day. This well was com- 
 menced in the conglomerate and ended in 
 the Chemung strata. Duck Creek, Noble 
 county, was formeily noted for the oil which 
 appeared with the brine of the salt wells. 
 
 In Ritchie and Wirt counties, Virginia, near 
 the Ohio river, some wells are producing oil, 
 and this promises to be an important oil dis- 
 trict. Canada West also contains an oil re- 
 gion, extending from London toward the St. 
 Clair river, from which petroleum has been 
 obtained the last twelve years. On the south- 
 ern coast of California petroleum is said to 
 be found in considerable quantities ; and 
 springs of it are described by C'aptain Stans- 
 bury in the report of his expedition, in 1849, 
 as occurring about 83 miles east from Salt 
 Lake City, Utah, in the vicinity of sulphur 
 springs and beds of bituminous coal. 
 
IGS 
 
 PETEOLEUM, ore ROCK OIL. 
 
 The fortunes made from these oil wells in 
 Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, and Can- 
 ada, in 18G(), 1861, and 18G2, gave ri-e to 
 the wildest speculation, and the petroleum 
 fever which set the whole country mad, for 
 three or four years, deserves to he classtd 
 with the Morns Midticaulis speculation of 
 1830-7, the Washoe Mining Mania of 1857, 
 or the Tulip-mania, and the South Sea Bub- 
 ble of John Law, in the last century. There 
 was, indeed, a more solid substratum of fait 
 on which to ba e the petroleum sjieculation, 
 the oil was fjund in great quantities and over 
 a wide extent of territory, and there was a 
 large demand for it, both at home and abroad ; 
 but only a small jjroportion of the eleven 
 hundred companies which were formed be- 
 twi^en 18G1 and 186"). with their six hundred 
 millions of dollars of nominal capital and 
 actual paid-up ca|iital of, perhaps, Ida mil 
 lions, either owned or leased lands or oil 
 wells. Tiie crafty seliemers who had raised 
 the commotion and ex<itement, preferred to 
 make their money by the sale of stocis, and 
 if the proposed wells were to be bond, to let 
 their succi'ssors undertake their development. 
 The whole community, meantime, had be- 
 come infatuated ; it was difficult to find a man 
 or woman in the city or country who had 
 not taken at least a small venture in what 
 seem da royal road to fortune, while in leai- 
 ity the chance of ever getting their money 
 back was not one in a hundred. Grave 
 clergymen, eminent lawyers, learned doctors, 
 shrewd hankers, literaiy and scientific men 
 of the highest ciiaracter, and with them mer- 
 chants, tradesmen, mechanics, farmers, and 
 day-laborers, all purcliased shares, and, in 
 many instances, invested tiie little savings 
 reserved for old ag>, or disaster in these very 
 attractive certificates of stock. Counting up 
 their pro-ipective wealth, as prophesied in 
 the glowing circulars of each new company, 
 men who had never been worth a thousand 
 dollars fancied themselves millionaires, and 
 looked forward to the time when they should 
 set up their carriage, and live in princely 
 style. It was much that the bursting of this 
 bubble did not involve the whole country in 
 financial disaster ; but it was really on so 
 sound a basis that the great losses which fol- 
 lowed, in 18GG and 1867, were borne with- 
 out any serious panic. 
 
 It was worthy of notice, that during the 
 height of this speculative fever, the produc- 
 tion of the oil so far from increasing as would 
 naturally have been expected actually dimin- I 
 
 i hed,and it was only after the oil had touch- 
 ed its lowest pr'ce that the increased and pro- 
 duction has continued to do so from that 
 time to the present. For several years the 
 heavy internal revenue tax greatly discour- 
 aged ])rocluclion, and the markets were glut- 
 led with the commodity so that prices ruled 
 low ; but the export demand has, for several 
 years jiast, steailily increased, while the home 
 markets have each year absorbed a larger 
 quantity. • 
 
 The following table shows the rapid growth 
 of the export trade in petroleum ; and reck- 
 oning on the assumption, which the most 
 extensive d(\aler-i assure is the true one, that 
 not more than forty-seven per cent, of the 
 annual production is exported, exhi!)its also 
 an a;iproximate estimate of the annual pro- 
 duct : 
 
 I'^xports and estimated production of pe- 
 troleum from 18C2 to 1871. 
 
 Year. 
 
 Gallons of 
 PL-li'ili;um 
 exporUHd. 
 
 Value of 
 export. 
 
 Estimated 
 galli^iij 
 produced. 
 
 Eetimated 
 v.iiue of 
 product. 
 
 1862 
 ISO! 
 1804 
 lSl!5 
 ISOG 
 
 10,337,701 
 
 28,250,721 
 31,87^,972 
 29,072,013 
 
 $1,. 539,027 
 6,227,839 
 10,782,6-9 
 16,5ia,413 
 24,830,887 
 24,407,042 
 21,819,6^6 
 31,025,446 
 32,101,485 
 
 21 ,.337 ,'33 
 00,C2G,0:!2 
 67,7."0,065 
 61,778,033 
 
 $3,270,402 
 11,139,15,- 
 22.913,214 
 
 3;,i:-7,c>2 
 
 52,7G5,C3c 
 51,Sj6,-3t 
 
 1867 
 
 
 
 1868 
 1869 
 1870 
 
 99,844,315 
 97,924,545 
 108,323,819 
 
 212,1':9,171 
 
 208,1189,1)53 
 230,192,335 
 
 4ii,317,CSf 
 65,079,07! 
 6S,21i,0oo 
 
 IP 
 
 ill 
 
 CO 
 
 90,942,343 
 
 23,811,812 
 
 206,002,473 
 
 60,600,100 
 
 Here, then, is an item of production, now 
 exported to the extent of nearly 3o millions 
 of dollars a year, and sold to the annual 
 amount of 70 millions, which was not ten 
 years ago, produced to the extent of SlOO,- 
 000; yet this extraordinary development has 
 only, to a very slight extent, supplanted the 
 trade in other means of illumination and 
 lubrication. The consumption of Olefiant 
 gas has, as we have seen, greatly increased 
 in the same decade ; whale oil, sperm oil, and 
 lard oil, havp somewhat declined. 
 
 It could not, of course, have been other- 
 wise than that a new business of such extent 
 should have prompted a great amount of 
 speculation. The aggregate losses by the 
 formation of petroleum companies probably 
 exceeded 125 millions of dollars. For sev- 
 eral years the fluctuations in the price of crude 
 and refined petroleum were very great and 
 very rapid ; but speculation having ceased 
 it has now settled down to a scale of prices 
 which pay a fair but not exorbitant profit on 
 
LA^^D SETTLEMENT-mXERNAL TRADE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "WESTERN SETTLEMENT AND TRADE. 
 
 PURCHASE OF LOUISIANA POPULATIOX AND 
 
 LAND SALES AVENUES TO THE VALLEY 
 
 CANAL AND RAILROAD EXPENDITURES 
 
 LAKE CITIES AND TRADE RECIPROCITY. 
 
 The original colonies, settled as the}' were 
 under different grants, circumstances, and 
 powers, had many and conflicting claims to 
 the then comparatively unknown land run- 
 ning back to the Mississippi river, bounded 
 on the north by the chain of lakes, and on 
 the south by the Spanish territories of Flori- 
 da and Louisiana, when there was a question 
 of union into a confederacy. These various 
 claims were a matter of dispute, which, from 
 being serious, was settled by a mutual ces- 
 sion of the lands to the federal government. 
 in trust, for the common benefit of all the 
 states then existing, or thereafter to be- 
 come members of the Union. The federal 
 government having thus become owner of 
 the lands, the constitution conferred upon 
 Congress the power "to dispose of and 
 make all needful rules and regulations re- 
 specting the territory and other property 
 belonging to the United States." The ob- 
 vious policy of the government, like that of 
 every other thrifty owner, was at once to 
 attract settlers to these lands, thereby mak- 
 ing them serviceable to the whole people as 
 fast as possible. To do so, the lands were 
 to be sold cheap, and as few formalities as 
 possible placed in the wav of the settlers. 
 The domain was organized under the control 
 of the Secretary of the Treasury, being ad- 
 ministered under him by a commissioner of 
 the land oflace. The whole domain is 
 divided into districts, for each of which 
 there is a surveyor general, under whom the 
 territory is subdivided for survey into dis- 
 tricts. For each district there is a land 
 office, occupied by a register and a receiver. 
 A plan is prepared of each district by the 
 surveyors, with the utmost care, showing 
 
 ranges, sections, and townships, with topo- 
 graphic characteristics. Of this plan there 
 are three copies; one is retained at the 
 land office, one by the surveyor, and the 
 third is sent to the general office at Wash- 
 ington, where it serves to regulate all tran- 
 sactions. The land being all surveyed into 
 sections of 640 acres each, is offered for 
 sale by the government at auction, at a 
 minimum price of $1.25 per acre. After 
 the land has been on sale two weeks, it may 
 be sold in 40 acre lots, at a less price. The 
 actual occupant of any land offered has the 
 pre-emption to it. The buyer of the land 
 pays the money to the receiver, and gets for 
 it a receipt, of which the register sends a 
 duplicate, with a certificate of the sale, to 
 Washington. On the verification of the 
 sale there, the deed of the land, called a 
 "patent," is made out, and sent to the local 
 land office register, who gives it to the pur- 
 chaser in exchange for the receipt he holds, 
 and his title is then complete. In addition 
 to the attractions of low prices and pre- 
 emption rights, long credits were originally 
 given, to enable the settler to pay for the 
 land out of its proceeds. But these speed- 
 ily led to abuses, and the cash plan was 
 finally adopted. There have been, however, 
 large grants of land for military purposes, 
 to schools and universities, to states for in- 
 ternal improvements, for seats of govern- 
 ment, public buildings, benefit of Indians, 
 salines, swamp lands, and lastly, in aid of 
 canals and railroads — the construction of 
 which aided the settlement of those lands at a 
 distance from large water courses, and there- 
 fore from markets. Some time elapsed be- 
 fore the organization of the department was 
 effected, and the first land office was opened 
 in 1800, at Chillicothe, Ohio. The first sales 
 of land, however, took place in New York 
 three years before, and in that year a tri- 
 angle on the lake was sold to Pennsylvania, 
 in order to give her a port on the lake. That 
 port is Erie, and is famous for the building 
 
170 
 
 LAND SETTLEMENT — INTERNAL TRADE. 
 
 of Perry's fleet there in 1812, in seventy 
 days fi'om the time the wood stood in the 
 forest until the stars and stripes floated to 
 tlie breeze of the lake from the mast-liead. 
 That fleet was fatal to British supremacy on 
 the lakes. Almost all the land sales took 
 place in Ohio, until 1807, when offices were 
 opened in Indiana and Mississippi. In 1809 
 an office was opened in Alabama, and in 
 1814 one in Illinois; in 1818 in Missouri, 
 Louisiana, and Michigan. The sales of the 
 lands proceeded with great activity in most 
 of these states up to 1821, particularly 
 after the embargo and war had turned 
 attention from commerce and navigation to 
 agriculture and manufacture. Nearly all 
 the lands of the government were then in 
 the great valley of the Mississippi. This is 
 a vast basin, the sides of which are the 
 eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains on 
 the west, and the western slopes of the Al- 
 leghany Mountains on the east. The chain 
 of great lakes stretches across the northern 
 end of the basin, and the Mississippi river 
 flows through its centre to the Gulf of Mexi- 
 co, receiving on its eastern side the Illinois, 
 the Ohio with its affluents, and other 
 large rivers which flow generally west from 
 the water-shed of the AUeghanies ; and on 
 its western side the Missouri and other large 
 rivers whose waters descend from the east- 
 ern slopes of the Rocky Mountains. The 
 only outlets to this vast basin were by the 
 St. Lawrence River (not then navigable, how- 
 ever) north to the ocean, and the Mississippi 
 river south to the gulf. Hardy pioneers 
 did penetrate across the mountains, by a 
 perilous seven weeks' journey, to the Ohio ; 
 but once there, intercourse was but limited 
 with the east. The fertile soil was, how- 
 ever, attractive, and the Indian trade profit- 
 able. In 1790 the whole population west 
 of the mountains was 108,808 souls, or 
 about 3 per cent of the whole population of 
 the Union. In ISOO that population had 
 increased to nearly 400,000, but the only 
 outlet for their produce was down the Mis- 
 sissippi through the Frencli territory of 
 Louisiana. That circumstance led to great 
 dissatisfaction, and being adroitly handled 
 by the political adventurers of that day, 
 threatened disunion, by dissolving the states 
 east and west — the latter to form a new 
 confederacy with the south-west and Mexico. 
 The remedy was to purchase Louisiana. 
 Fortunately, at the moment Napoleon had 
 relinquished his projects of forming French 
 
 colonies ; also being determined on war with 
 England, he feared the seizure of Louisiana 
 by that power, and determined to sell it to 
 the LTnited States for ^14,984,872. This 
 money, in 1803, gave him the sinews of war, 
 and also the hope that the transaction would 
 embroil the United States with his enemy. 
 England did at a later period attempt to 
 take the territories. But the troops who 
 had driven the French out of Spain, em- 
 barked from France for the enterprise only 
 to encounter the bloodiest defeat before 
 cotton bags and western rifles. Louisiana 
 was tlien possessed of a certain amount of 
 population and wealth, which, from being 
 French, by annexation became American. A 
 considerable commerce had grown up. The 
 amount of trade then existing between the 
 eastern and western states may be gathered 
 from the official returns of exports to New 
 Orleans, in the four years before it was an- 
 nexed, as follows : — 
 
 States. 1199. 1800. 1801. 1802. 
 Atlantic, 3,504,092 2,035.789 1,901,998 1,224,110 
 •Western, 1,124,842 1,596,640 
 
 Total, $3,504,092 2,035,789 3,032,840 2,821,350 
 
 The exports from the Atlantic States were 
 mostly foreign merchandise destined for ex- 
 port up the western rivers. The exports of 
 tlie western states were the produce sent 
 down for sale. Those exports were the 
 productions of hardy adventurers, whom 
 circumstances liad induced to seek their for- 
 tunes in the west. As long as the commerce 
 of the country was active, and the sales of 
 the farm products of the Atlantic states 
 profitable, there was less inducement to mi- 
 grate west than there was after the embargo 
 had wrought a change in that respect, and 
 the means of communication via New Or- 
 leans had improved. When tliat port be- 
 came an American city, and the mighty 
 river to its mouth an American stream, a 
 new attraction was added to the fair lands 
 of the valley, and in 1810 its population 
 had risen to 878,315. The impulse thus 
 given to western settlement was strength- 
 ened by the eft'ects of war upon the Atlantic 
 states. The interruption of commerce and 
 stagnation of exports threw out of employ- 
 ment large numbers, who now turned an 
 inquiring gaze beyond the mountains. The 
 capital of the east thrown out of commercial 
 employment by the same circumstances, 
 flowed eagerly into banking, in the hope of 
 
' ' '' i ii'''lllil 
 
 lilli' 
 
 iliilM^^^^^ 
 
 
 M 
 
 
 
 jiiii,'"'' •'"■'i>''y MM 
 
 -'«" 
 
 I 
 
 '■il' 
 
WESTERN SETTLEMENT AND TRADE. 
 
 IVI 
 
 deriving large profits from the growing re- 
 sources of the west; although inevitable 
 disaster followed the erroneous principles 
 on which that banking was conducted, the 
 capital, so lost to stockholders, really pro- 
 moted agriculture. Instead of confining 
 themselves to advances on produce shipped, 
 the institutions loaned money to make im- 
 provements and build houses that the farm 
 profits could not pay for. The result was 
 ruin to those accepting such advances, and 
 insolvency to the banks making them. 
 From 1810 to 1820 six states grew into the 
 Union, while in the fifteen years that fol- 
 lowed 1821 none were admitted. 
 
 This is an instructive fact, and it indicates 
 that western land speculation, so much over- 
 done at those periods, was a long time 
 in recovering itself The process of forming 
 new states is mostly a speculative one. The 
 shrewdest operators get possession of the 
 leading " sites " of future cities, and by 
 stimulating and guiding the tide of migra- 
 tion, become wealthy in the rise of prices that 
 tlie tide creates around them. As the wealth- 
 iest names of the eastern cities wera men 
 eminent in commercial enterprise, so were 
 those of the western cities the earliest and 
 most extensive land-holders. The political 
 influence which brings the government pat- 
 ronage upon the theatre of such locations, 
 is a part of the machinery to guide the pop- 
 ular movement. When in seasons of specu- 
 lation, these operators become possessed of 
 considerable tracts, a period of steady and 
 healthy migration is required to distribute 
 possession among settlers and clear the way 
 for a new excitement. Yearly the trade grows 
 by reason of the increasing surplus that the 
 settlers throw off" for market, and which 
 being sold increases their ability to buy 
 merchandise in return. 
 
 There are no data by which to measure the 
 growth of trade in those western states after 
 the admission of Louisiana, up to within 
 twenty 3'ears, since the accounts were kept 
 only for the foreign trade, and when Louisi- 
 ana became a state, reports were no longer 
 made. The sales of lands, and population 
 of the new states, progressed as follows, how- 
 ever : — 
 
 1790 to 1800 1800 to 1810 
 Piipulation, increase, 276,769 492,678 
 
 Sales ofland, acres, 1,536,152 3,008,982 
 
 1810 to 1820 Total 1820 
 
 Population, increase, 1,201, 24,8 2,079.563 
 
 Sales of land, acres, 8,499,673 13,044,807 
 
 So rapid had been the settlement from 
 1810 to 1820. The agricultural productions 
 of that region, as a matter of course, fol- 
 lowed this rapid settlement of lands, and the 
 exchange of those productions created a 
 large trade of which there is little record. 
 The mines and manufactures sprung up in 
 the several towns, following the wants of the 
 people. ' 
 
 The cession of Louisiana to the TJnited 
 States had produced a dispute in relation to 
 its boundaries between this country and 
 Spain, which then owned Florida. This dis- 
 pute became very warm in 1819, when it was 
 settled through the mediation of the French 
 minister, by a cession of east and west Flor- 
 ida by Spain to the United States, in con- 
 sideration of being released from claims for 
 spoliation of American propertv to the extent 
 of s4,9S5,599, which the United States gov- 
 ernment undertook to pay its own citizens. 
 The coast line of the United States thus 
 became complete. There were now large 
 interests west of the mountains, a population 
 of over 2,000.000 souls, occupying fertile 
 land, capable of any development, and great 
 numbers were interested in the rapid appre- 
 ciation of those lands by settlement. The 
 want of communication was a great obstacle. 
 It required seven weeks to reach the newly 
 settled cities of the west; and when during 
 the war it was necessary to send a gun from 
 New York city to Buffalo for defense, it cost 
 six weeks of time and §1,000 in money to 
 do it. There could be little trade under 
 such circumstances, and the question was 
 to open communication. A canal from the 
 lakes to tide water on the Hudson was 
 commenced in 1817, and completed in 1825. 
 This Erie canal cost ^7,143,789, and soon 
 paid for itself, being the most profitable, as it 
 was the greatest of modern improvements. 
 It opened the door for the great western val- 
 ley to tide water, and by doing so wrought an 
 immense change in the condition and pros- 
 pects of all that region. In October, 1823, 
 New York had also completed the Cham- 
 plain canal, running 63 miles, from Albany 
 to Lake Champlain, at a cost of §1,179,871. 
 I'ennsylvania, in 1825, passed an act for the 
 connection of Pittsburg, on the Ohio, with 
 Philadelphia, a distance of 394 miles. This 
 line was not completed until 1834. In 1828, 
 a company was chartered to connect the 
 Ohio with Georgetown, on the Potomac, by 
 the Chesapeake and Ohio canal. These 
 works gave three outlets from the great basin 
 
172 
 
 LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 
 
 to tide water. While yet they were in pro- 
 cess of construction, however, a new power 
 was being developed to supersede them for 
 trade and lio-ht freitrhts. In 1828, Massa- 
 chusetts had three miles of railroad ; from 
 that nest-effg, capital has since hatched 28,270 
 miles, which cover the country like a net- 
 work. The opening of the Erie canal was 
 attended with great results, since it placed 
 the produce of western lands cheaply in com- 
 petition with that of the valley of the Hud- 
 son, and of the less productive states of the 
 Atlantic c<5ast. Commerce and manufactures 
 increased, for the reason that agriculture paid 
 less. The supply of labor changed direction, 
 and the increasing numbers in manufacturing 
 employments drew their subsistence from the 
 west. The natural water courses that dis- 
 charged themselves into the lakes were lined 
 with settlers, and soon Ohio connected the 
 lakes with the Ohio river, by a canal from 
 Cleveland to Cincinnati, and also to Ports- 
 mouth. Indiana projected a canal from 
 Toledo, on the lakes, to the Ohio river, cut- 
 ting the state nearly longitudinally; and 
 Illinois projected one from Chicago to the 
 navigable waters of the Illinois river, thus 
 connecting the lakes with the Mississippi 
 river, nearly opposite the old French town 
 of St. Louis — across the state. These works 
 were not completed, some of them, until ten 
 or fifteen years alter tliey were undertaken. 
 Tliat of Ohio, however, gave a new impulse 
 to trade, not only by Cleveland, on the lakes, 
 but by wa}' of Cincinnati, down tlie river to 
 New Orleans. These circumstances gave a 
 new impulse to the sales of land and the 
 settlement of the west. The expenditure of 
 money for the construction of canals, and by 
 tiie iederal government for the construction 
 of the great national road running west from 
 the seat of government to the Mississippi, 
 inaugurated the speculative movement in 
 tliat direction. The bank fever then raged 
 once more in support of the land move- 
 ment, as it had done in the six years end- 
 ing with 1820, and with the same results. 
 $200,000,000 of money went from cast to 
 west, feeding the Hame, until all real capital 
 was nearly consumed, and the speculation 
 ran wild until it burst in 18.37. At that 
 time a large quantity of land had passed, 
 under the credit sales of the federal govern- 
 ment, into the liands of private speculators, 
 and the western fever lay dormant up to the 
 revival that it experienced in 1846-7, by 
 reason of the famine abroad, and the growing 
 
 strength of the migration. Attention was 
 then again turned to the lands, and the rail- 
 road expenditure began to exert the same 
 influence that canal and bank expenditure 
 had exercised in 1836, and the movement 
 was progressive until the revulsion of 1857. 
 
 The natural water courses of the country 
 had been followed by early migrations, and 
 the settlement of the land bordering them 
 had been stimulated by the bank paper 
 speculation of 1810 to 1820. Following the 
 excitement came the construction of the 
 artificial means of navigation, involving an 
 expenditure of some $50,000,000 for canals 
 through new lands opened up by their opera- 
 tion ; and these enterprises were again at- 
 tended with a great bank expansion, that, 
 although ending disastrously, nevertheless 
 had the eft'ect of drawing capital from Eng- 
 land and the wealthier Atlantic states to 
 spread it upon the fertile lands of the west. 
 The subsidence of that speculation left the 
 west in comparative quiet, although of gene- 
 ral progress, for some years, during which a 
 new and more powerful element of internal 
 development was coming into action. This 
 was the railroad system. 
 
 The first railroad of the country was three 
 miles, built in Quincy, Massachusetts, and in 
 operation in 1828, about the time the suc- 
 cess of the Manchester railroad in England 
 astonished the world with the new phenom- 
 ena of locomotion. The example was not 
 slow of imitation in this country; and the 
 Boston and Providence railroad, uniting those 
 cities by forty miles of rail, to connect with 
 the steamboats to New York, was soon in 
 operation. Its success caused other works to 
 be undertaken in New England, and when 
 the Western road was projected, to con- 
 nect Albany with Boston, it gave the city a 
 direct connection with the Hudson river and 
 the Erie canal. New York projected the Har- 
 lem railroad ; and from Albany several roads 
 extended west, connecting city after city, 
 until the united lengths of 380 miles made a 
 continuous route to Buftalo — afterward, in 
 1850, consolidated in the New York- Central 
 railroad. Another road — the Erie — to con- 
 nect New York with Lake Erie at Dunkirk 
 (459 miles), through the lower tier of coun- 
 ties, was commenced in 1842 and completed 
 in 1853. Baltimore projected the connection 
 with Wheeling, on the Ohio, 380 miles, by 
 rail, and Philadelphia connected Pittsburg, on 
 the Ohio, 329 miles, by a line of works which 
 became subsequently a continuous railway. 
 
>AU 5UL1.S 
 
WESTERN SETTLEMENT AND THADE. 
 
 173 
 
 The New York railroads were not allowed 
 by law to carry freiifht until 1850, except ou 
 pavinent of the canal tolls. These fnur routes 
 opened the western valley by rail to tide 
 water. Tlie Canada roads, connecting De- 
 troit and Buffalo, and Detroit and Portland, 
 make five routes, with distances as follows : — 
 
 N. York to Chicago, via Erie, Lake Shore, and 
 
 Mich. Southern, ----- 957 
 
 N. York to Cliieago, via Central, Canada, and 
 
 Mich. Ceutral, 957 
 
 Phihidelphia to Chicago, via Pittsburg and 
 
 Fort Wayne, - 823 
 
 Baltinjore to Chicago, ma Ohio Central, - 9-12 
 Portland to " " CanadaandMicIiigan 
 
 Central, 1,133 
 
 There had been, meanwhile, many western 
 roads built in important localities, which had 
 much favored the export of food in answer 
 to the foreign demand growing out of the 
 famine of 1846-7. In the year 1850, the 
 federal government made a grant of land of 
 about 2,500,000 acres to the state of Illinois, 
 in aid of the construction of the Central 
 railroad, which was to connect Galena, on 
 the Mississippi, and Chicago, on the lake, 
 with Cairo, at the junction of the Ohio and 
 Mississippi rivers. The two roads leaving 
 respectively Galena and Chicago, run south, 
 converging until they meet at a point 50 
 miles from Cairo, and thence proceed to- 
 gether. The state not being able to do ^his 
 herself, made over the lands to a company, 
 on condition that they should construct the 
 road. This was commenced in 1852, and 
 finished in 1857, at a cost of 835,000,000. 
 The tract given by the government was in 
 size equal to the whole state of Connecticut, 
 and was a part of 11,000,000 acres that had 
 been over fifteen vcars in the market without 
 finding buyers. The fact that tlie railroad was 
 to run through them, and spend $25, 000,000, 
 and employ 10,000 men in the building of 
 the road, made the lands attractive, and ex- 
 cited .speculation. At about the same time 
 the state of Michigan sold the Michigan Cen- 
 tral road and the Southern Michigan road to 
 two companies, on the condition of their 
 finishing them, which was done in 1852, 
 establishing a connection between Detroit 
 and Chicago. About the same time the Gale- 
 na and Chicago railroad was commenced and 
 finished in 1850, making a direct communi- 
 cation from the river at Galena to Chicago, 
 prolonged by tlie Michigan roads to Detroit, 
 and thence by the Lake Shore to New York, 
 by the Erie or the Central railroads, or via 
 
 the Canada route to Portland or to Boston. 
 Subsequent connections have been made with 
 the Pennsylvania and the Baltimore roads ; 
 and the western connections of Chicago and 
 Milwaukee liave been pushed under a vast ex- 
 penditure of money. The inauguration of 
 land grants by government, in the case of 
 the Illinois Central, has been followed by 
 grants to other states for the same object, 
 until all the grants amount to 25,403,993 
 acres. These grants have rapidly developed 
 southern connections, until the route is now 
 complete between Chicago and New Orleans, 
 shortening the river route by over 400 miles. 
 While these " trunk lines" were in process 
 of construction, cross roads were multiplied 
 to an immense extent, and the connections 
 of them form a continuous route from Bangor, 
 Maine, to New Orleans, 1,996 miles. This 
 vast chain of railways is composed of eigh- 
 teen independent roads, costing in the aggre- 
 gate, for 2,394 miles of road',^ $92,784^084, 
 or nearly one-tu-ent3'-fourth of the whole 
 railway system of the United States. 
 
 The progress of the construction by miles 
 in each locality lias been as follows, in 
 periods of ten years : — 
 
 East'ni. Middle. Soalh'rn. West'ni. Total Milet. Cnst. 
 
 1828.... 3 S 221,101 
 
 183(1 ... 3 S3 6 6 4.1 8,.Mn,10n 
 
 1840... 444 1,436 461 28 2,.3r.9 9S.17O,001 
 
 1850.... 2,391) 2,925 1,415 1,041 7,777 291,482,101 
 
 1860....3,.S24 8,176 6,552 10,7(8 58,270 $1,009,172,000 
 
 .870.... 4,274 10,791 11,132 22,(J64 43 661 2,212,412,719 
 
 A vast sum of money, amounting in all to 
 $1,203,240,719, has been expended in the last 
 ten years in the construction of 2i),59 1 miles of 
 roa(1, of wliich ratlur more than one-half has 
 been built at the west. Tht've are, in addi- 
 tion to these roads, some 28,000 miles of 
 road incomplete. A considerable amount 
 of this money was drawn from abroad. The 
 iron was got in exchange for bonds, which 
 have not in all cases been paid ; but if the 
 bonds were poor, the iron has not been of 
 good quality. The quantity of railroad iron 
 imported in ten years, to 1850, was 242,449 
 tons, at a cost of $9,(503,587. In the twenty 
 years ending with 1869, the quantity im- 
 ported was 3,519.896 tons, at a cost of 
 $281,591,680. This number of tons suffices 
 for about 30,000 miles of road, at 70 lbs. to the 
 yard. The money expended upon the roads 
 in the employment of men and in the manu- 
 facture of superstructure, rolling stock, etc., 
 of itself caused an immense activity and de- 
 mand for produce, which, as a matter of 
 course, became scarce and high upon the 
 theatre of such expenditure. The manufac- 
 
174 
 
 LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 
 
 ture of superstructure, cars, locomotives, sta- 
 tions, etc., were the means of employing 
 great numbers of men. The railroad iron, 
 of wliich the manufacture i-equires the in- 
 vestment of much capital, was alone import- 
 ed to any great extent. The remaining por- 
 tions of the railroads were manufactured at 
 home. The first locomotives in the United 
 States were imported from England in the 
 fall of 1829 or spring of 1830. The first 
 Stephenson locomotive ever imported was 
 the "Piobert Fulton," in 1831, for the Mo- 
 hawk and Hudson railroad. The first loco- 
 motive built in this country was constructed 
 at the West I'oint foundry in 1830, for the 
 South Carolina railroad. Since then the im- 
 provement and manufacture of railroads has 
 been so successful as to admit of the export 
 of manj' American machines. As the roads 
 were completed, and the hands, numbering 
 at least 200,000 men so employed, were dis- 
 charged, they naturally turned their atten- 
 tion to the agriculture of the neighborhood 
 where they had been employed, and produc- 
 tion thus succeeded to consumption. The 
 effect of the railroad expenditure upon the 
 grain crops is to some extent indicated in 
 the following table of miles of roads in oper- 
 ation in the western states at the periods 
 named, and the population and corn product 
 of those states : — 
 
 IWO. Miles r>„,i.ii™ Bushels 
 
 of u™d. PoPilo'lo"- „f Corn. 
 
 Ohio 299 1,980,329 59,078,695 
 
 Indiana 86 982,405 52,964,S63 
 
 IlUnoi-s 22 851,470 57,646,984 
 
 Iowa 192,214 8,656,799 
 
 Michigan 344 397,654 5,641,420 
 
 WisconsiQ 305,391 1,988,379 
 
 Missouri 682,044 36,214,537 
 
 751 5,391,507 222,191,177 
 1870. 
 
 Ohio 3,724 2,175,468 65,250 005 
 
 Indiana 2,977 1,668,169 7.'j,0i)n,iini) 
 
 Illinois 4,708 2,567,0,36 121,500,(1(1(1 
 
 Iowa 2,141 1,181,359 78,, 5(1(1, (loii 
 
 MichiKan . 1,200 1184,653 14,1(10 Odn 
 
 V\'isconsiu 1,491 1,055,501 9,500,000 
 
 Missouri 1,827 1,725,658 80,500,0(10 
 
 Total 18,068 12,051,844 445,350,005 
 
 Incruase 17,317 6,660,337 223,158,828 
 
 The corn crops had more than doubled, and 
 the wheat crop in the same states had risen 
 from 43,«40,C37 to 143,.'i()0,00() Imshels in 
 ] s7(l — an increaseof 100,000,000 ]ierannum, 
 worth as many dollars ; and estimating the 
 corn at tlu; same aggregate, there had been 
 a sum of $320,000,000 per annum, or a third 
 
 the cost of the railroads built, extracted each 
 year from the soil through their influence. 
 We may now observe what had been the 
 actual sales of the public lands by the govern- 
 ment in the forty years ending with 1860, 
 to June 30th, when the fiscal year ends, 
 divided into periods of ten years each ; the 
 first, being that of recovery from the specu- 
 lation that attended the close of the war; 
 the second, embracing the period of bank 
 and canal building excitement ; the third, 
 that of recovery from that excitement ; and 
 the fourth, that of the last great railroad 
 building excitement. The quantity sold 
 during the fifty years was, it appears, 160,- 
 588,(105 acres, besides about :;86,000,000 
 acres granted to agricultural colleges, rail- 
 roads, homesteads, military service, &c. 
 
 ANNU.VL SALES OP LAND BT TOE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT. 
 
 1S21, 
 1-22, 
 
 1823, 
 1821, 
 1825, 
 182 i, 
 1S27, 
 1R28, 
 ISL'O, 
 1830, 
 
 Acres. 
 822,185 
 763,811 
 63'<,749 
 723,033 
 871, HI 9 
 839,263 
 9(.lj,y37 
 94ii,ia0 
 1,236,445 
 1,8S0,U19 
 
 1831, 
 lS:e, 
 1833, 
 1834, 
 1835, 
 1S3G, 
 1837, 
 1839, 
 1839, 
 1840, 
 
 2,804,745 
 2,411,9.^2 
 3,8.-6,227 
 4,(158,218 
 12,584,478 
 20,074,870 
 5,001,103 
 3,414,907 
 4,97(i,382 
 2,23(3,889 
 
 1841, 
 1842, 
 1843, 
 1844, 
 1845, 
 1846, 
 ' 1847, 
 1848, 
 1849, 
 1850, 
 
 Acres. 
 1,164,796 
 1,129,217 
 l,(;0;j,264 
 1,764,763 
 1,843,527 
 2,2f:3,7.30 
 2,521,305 
 1,SS7,5J3 
 l,3L9,9ft2 
 
 769,364 
 
 Total 
 
 9,62 
 
 7,710 
 
 62,6i«,771 
 
 16,269,421 
 
 Pop . 
 
 .2,233,881) 
 
 3,707,299 
 
 10,454,245 
 
 1851, 
 
 
 1,846,847 
 
 1861,1 
 1862, 
 
 
 1,8,52, 
 
 
 1.5- 3,071 
 
 
 18,53, 
 
 
 1.0S3,495 
 
 1863, ■ 
 
 9,109,075 
 
 IS.i4, 
 
 
 7,035,735 
 
 1864, 
 
 
 18.55, 
 
 
 15,7:9,5"4 
 
 18^5, 
 
 
 18,56, 
 
 
 9,227,878 
 
 1766, 
 
 4,6:;9,313 
 
 18,57, 
 
 
 4,142,744 
 
 1S67, 
 
 7,041,114 
 
 1^*58, 
 
 
 3,804,908 
 
 18(53, 
 
 6,(i5:i,743 
 
 1859, 
 
 
 3,9')1,680 
 
 1869, 
 
 7,6C.ii,ir.2 
 
 186 J, 
 
 
 4,o00,0j0 
 
 1870, 
 
 8,095,413 
 
 Total 62,''85,782 
 
 rop'n 15,081,894 
 
 43,19'i,810 
 17,217,010 
 
 The total sales of land, from the opening 
 of the land offices to 187l>, including grants 
 under the homestead laws, were 176,488,736 
 acres. There Jiave been issued land warrants 
 to soldiers, which iiave taken up large jior- 
 tions of the land. These warrants are for 1 60 
 acres, 120 acres, 80 acres, and 40 acres, and 
 have been sold in the markets at $1 per acre 
 for the smaller lots, and about 80 cts. the 
 larger wairants, by which means the lands 
 come less to the buyer. In addition to (he 
 lands sold, the government has donated 6',),- 
 06(5,802 acres to schools ; 6,851,989 acres to 
 agricultural coUcges ; 44,971 to deaf and 
 dumb asylums ; 12,403,054 to internal im- 
 provements; 2,210,184 to individuals ; 146,- 
 860 to seats of government; 61,076.922 to 
 military services; 514,585 salines to states; 
 

 C 
 
 b-- 
 
 i 
 
 u-; 
 
 l4 
 
 b-i 
 
 b-i 
 
WESTERN SETTLEMENT AND TRADE. 
 
 115 
 
 1,1,980.700 Iiiflhin reserves; 17.64.5,244 pri- 
 vate claims; 47.87.5,240 swamp lands, granted 
 to states; 27,4.5.3,522 to railroads, etc. ; re- 
 served for individuals, companies, and corpor- 
 ations, 8,955,3',)4 acres; and there remain 
 unsold lands on hand, the trifle of 1,396,- 
 2S6,1G4 acres. 
 
 The population of the land states had in- 
 creased, it appears, from 2,233,881 > in 1830, 
 to 17,217,610 in 1870, during which period 
 of forty j'ears, 174,451,784 acres of land 
 were sold by the Government. These 
 land sales and population are the ground 
 work of the national trade, which grows with 
 the surplus produced by the land settlers. 
 Those people at first make few purchases of 
 goods, but increase them as their surplus 
 produce sells and enables them to do so. 
 
 The people who seek new Lands on which 
 to rear their future homes and fortunes, are, 
 for the most part, not possessed of much 
 capital, and under ordinary circumstances 
 much is required for a family to perform a 
 distant journey, locate and prepare land and 
 wait until the crops are grown. Neverthe- 
 less, pioneers have ceaselessly pushed for- 
 ward into tl\c wililerness and battled with 
 nature in the shape of forests, animals and 
 savages, until twenty new states and millions 
 of wealth have been added to the Union. 
 The great instrument of this progress, has, 
 under Providence, and in the hands of skil- 
 ful and determined men, been Indian corn. 
 That grain has been the poor man's capital, 
 enabling him to conquer the wilderness. It 
 needed on his locating his future homo but 
 to drop the seed in the fertile soil, and 
 while he busied himself with his new dwel- 
 ling, a sure crop grew up, which in a few 
 months became food for his family and his 
 animals. The husks furnish his bed and 
 the cobs his fuel. lie is thus by the gift of 
 nature furnished with capital for the coming 
 year, until his other crops and young ani- 
 mals have grown. Indian corn has thus 
 given the pioneer a hold upon the land and 
 made his footing fiiTa where otherwise he 
 might have been compelled to succumb to 
 hardships. With ever}' such remove on to new 
 land the circle of trade has increased. A 
 few months only suffice for the settler to 
 furnish a surplus of production in return for 
 comforts th.'it he desires. For this reason 
 chiefly corn figures so largely in the agricul- 
 ture of the west. The prolific soil throws 
 out quantities far beyond the wants of the 
 planter, and in a region where all are plantr 
 
 ers, the supply becomes superabundant and 
 must find distant markets only at rates so 
 low as to leave little to the grower. Two 
 local demands are created for it. The most 
 important of them is to feed hogs, and pork 
 becomes a leading staple export ; the other 
 is for distillation, and whiskey is largely 
 exported. The quantity of corn required 
 to make a certain quantity of pork becomes 
 accurately known, and the price of meat 
 rises and falls with that of the grain, as does 
 whiskey also. Thus out of the great staple 
 grain Indian-corn come directly the three 
 great articles of export, corn, pork and its 
 manufacture, and whiskey. Lumber in most 
 new countries is also an important export, 
 As the settlements progress, beef, wool, 
 wheat and other grains, soon follow, and 
 trade increases. While Indian corn has been 
 largely the instrument of settlement at the 
 West, the nature of the country and the 
 fertility of machine inventions have been no 
 less necessary in securing a surplus for sale. 
 If the corn grows readily it could not under 
 the old system be so readily harvested in a 
 region where land belonged to every man, 
 and every man's labor could be applied only to 
 his own service. At the same time no 
 man's labor more than suffices for the wants 
 of his own family. Here machinery steps 
 in, and favored by the level nature of the 
 soil operates to a charm. A man who could 
 with the scythe cut from one to one and a half 
 acres of grass per day, may ride round a 
 field and cut ten acres in a day without 
 fatigue. Instead of a gang to rake and turn 
 and cock, his horse and himself may with a 
 patent rake perform all that labor and more 
 effectually when driven by a shower of rain, 
 than any gang. His grain is cut by the 
 same means and light labor as his grass. It 
 is threshed out by a similar process ; his 
 corn is husked and shelled by machines ; 
 and when drawn to the railroad depots it is 
 elevated into vast receptacles to be trans- 
 ported rapidly and at small cost to the best 
 market. All these machine aids enable 
 the man whose own labor would scarcely 
 supply the deipands of his family to turn 
 out a vast surplus. This surplus seeks the 
 river and lake cities by rail, canal, and steam, 
 to be transported to the Atlantic markets 
 for consumption or export, or may now leave 
 Chicago and Milwaukee on the lakes, or St. 
 Louis and Cincinnati on the rivers for Liver- 
 pool direct without breaking bulk. The 
 table of land sales above gives a very good 
 
WESTERN SETTLEMENT AND TRADE. 
 
 177 
 
 Cleveland ; tliL-re are r.ow 49 steamers and 
 356 sail vessels, with an aggregate tonnage of 
 54,474 tons owneil there. The nuiltiplica- 
 tiou of railroads has, however, added of late 
 more to the city business than either canals 
 or tonnage. There are twelve roads running 
 into Cleveland, of an aggregate length of 
 1,623 miles, and their annual receipts are 
 more than 25 million dollars. These cross- 
 ing Oiiio in ever}' direction, connect the city 
 with Toledo, Columbus, Pittsburg, and Is'ew 
 York. With these advantages, and an active 
 commerce with Canada, a large foreign trade 
 sprung up. In 1S70 tlie imports and expoits 
 were as follows : 
 
 Vessels. Tons. Coastwise. Foreien. Total. 
 
 Exports... 1,060 302,170 $76,187,390 SS9n,203 S"6,782,593 
 Imports. . . 940 2SS,110 108,219,361 6U9,98-1 108,819,845 
 
 The trade between Cleveland and Lake 
 Superior has also become important witliin 
 fifteen years, in which time it has risen to 
 more than $20,0()(),(l()0, mostly in iron and 
 copper ore. In 1856-1S61, Cleveland had, in 
 common with several of the other hike ports, 
 a growing and flourishing direct trade with 
 Europe through the AVelland canal. Ten 
 vessels, of 300 or 400 tons, ran regularly for 
 some time between Cleveland and Liver|iool. 
 Owing to the war and tiie unprolitiibleness 
 of this trade, it has now very much declined, 
 but the city has become largely interested 
 manufactures, having over $16,01)0,000 cap- 
 ital invested in them, with an annual product 
 of nearly 550,000,000. The coal trade of 
 Cleveland has become large for the supply 
 of the steamers and factories on and around 
 the lakes; the supply is about Tni'.nOO tons 
 per annum. Population in 1870, 9M,918. 
 
 DETRjy.x,^— This is the oldest of the west- 
 ern cities having been early occupied by 
 the French, but its progress, like tiie others, 
 was slow until the opening of the Erie canal. 
 In 137 years, up to 1820, the population 
 had risen only to 1,442 souls. The greatest 
 impulse has been given to Detroit by 
 the formation, in the last ten years, of 
 the railroad system, which connects it with 
 the interior country. The G:eat Western 
 Railway of Canada, coming 299 miles, has 
 its terminus virtualh' in Detioit. From De- 
 troit west run the Michijian Central road, 
 228 miles, to Chicago, and connecting with 
 the whole western net-work of rails ; the 
 Detroit and Milwaukee railroad, crossing the 
 Peninsula, 185 miles, to Grand Haven; 
 the Michigan Southern road running also to 
 11* 
 
 Chicago, a road to Lansing, and other smaller 
 road-i, in all extending about 1,120 miles. 
 Population in 1870, 79,588. 
 
 Chicago is the most remarkable of the 
 western cities for its growth. Its location 
 was good, at the southern extremity of the 
 lake, but though it had a tine harbor sufficient 
 for any lake trade, it could not thrive until 
 tbe back country supplied it with produce to 
 sell, and required of it merchandise in ex- 
 change. . Though occupied as a garrison in 
 1812, and a trading port in 1823, it had le.'=s 
 than fifty inhabitants till 1832. , The Illinois 
 and Michigan canal, connecting the lake with 
 the navigable waters of the Illinois, was com- 
 menced in 1836, 100 miles in length. In aid 
 of this work tho federal government donated 
 alternate six mile sections of the public lands. 
 The state had also projected a large system 
 of railroad improvements on a scale far be- 
 yond its means, and it failed in 1840. Sub- 
 .sequently the means was raised to complete 
 the canid, which was effecled in 1850. The 
 yearly arrivals and clearances of vessels in 
 the port are little more than six million tons. 
 In 1870, there were 15 trunk and about 50 
 other railroads with an aggregate mileage of 
 over 9,000 miles radiating from Chicago as 
 their common centre. The expenditure of 
 about $450,000,000 in the construction cf 
 these roads, and the great development of 
 the country through which they pass has 
 made the growth of Chicago r.apid beyond 
 all precedent. The vast grain, live, stock, lum- 
 ber and mining producis poured into it have 
 made it a great commercial city, even bevond 
 what its population would indicate. Over 
 the 9,000 miles of railroad, most of it trav- 
 ersing the finest grain country in the world, 
 the cereals have come in such quantities as 
 to make Chicago the first primary grain port 
 in the world, slii]ipiiig as it does about 60 
 million bushels of grain per annum, import- 
 ing and exporting to the amount of S250,- 
 0(M),000. Chicago is only six or eight feet 
 above the level of the lake, but the harbor 
 has a depth of thirteen feet of water, and will 
 always be ample for the commerce of the 
 lakes. The number of vessels arriving here 
 in 1870 w-as 12,739. The new Canadian 
 rules in relation to navigation enable ChicaM 
 vessels to clear direct for Europe, and there 
 are a number in the trade by which produi e 
 and goods are shipped direct to Europe. 
 The total value of pro luce exported in 
 1870 was §5,034,336. Inasmuch as bread- 
 stuffs are the principal product of the 
 
178 
 
 LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 
 
 the commerce of the place, the following ta- 
 ble will best illustrate as well the development 
 of agriculture as the chief element of trade : 
 
 SHIPMENTS OF FLOUR (REDUCED TO WHEAT) AND GRAIN FROM 
 CHICAGO FOR THIRTV-THREE YEARS. 
 
 1833, 
 
 1839, 
 1840, 
 1841, 
 1842, 
 1843, 
 1844, 
 1845, 
 1846, 
 1S47, 
 1848, 
 
 Bushels. 
 
 78 
 
 3,678 
 
 10,1100 
 
 40,000 
 
 58S,9'.i7 
 
 681* ,907 
 
 923,491 
 
 l,0-i4,B20 
 
 1,599,819 
 
 2,243,201 
 
 3,001,740 
 
 18)9, 
 18.50, 
 l»ol, 
 1852, 
 1853, 
 1854, 
 1855, 
 1856, 
 1857, 
 1858, 
 1859, 
 
 Bu.shol.'i. 
 2,700,111 
 1,830,930 
 4,646,291 
 5,8;3,141 
 6,412,181 
 12,03:1,320 
 16,6.33,700 
 21,5^3,221 
 18,0.3.1,078 
 20,035,106 
 10,753,795 
 
 1860, 
 1861, 
 1S62, 
 1863, 
 1804, 
 1865, 
 1866, 
 1867, 
 1868, 
 1869, 
 1370, 
 
 liushpls. 
 31,1118,7.59 
 50,481,862 
 56,477,110 
 64,287,345 
 46,718,543 
 62,268,181 
 66,486,3:3 
 65,137,909 
 63,6.38,358 
 56,7.59,516 
 64,745,903 
 
 We may recapitulate these lake cities in 
 the following table, showing the date of set- 
 tlement, of incorporation, and population at 
 that date, with the population and valuation 
 in 1850 and 1860 : — 
 
 The following are the shipments of pork, 
 provision, and cut meats, lard, beef, wool, 
 and lumber, for ten years — 1861-1S70 : 
 
 Tear. 
 
 I8G1, 
 186j, 
 )8»!, 
 1«H, 
 lUfio, 
 
 ise;, 
 
 ]«fi8, 
 isi;;), 
 1S70, 
 
 19:1,'.) -O 
 
 44II,1.M 
 
 2fH,7:14 
 ^57,4711 
 17li.«l 
 141..'1-'1 
 
 ProvlsionB and 
 Cut M.>nle. 
 
 (in.748 3.S8 
 7l,'.i44.0tU 
 ■)5.»KI,«15 
 «),(l3j.:ti2 
 5o,0i(>,609 
 7.3,011 ,S« 
 8a,3i'i,.V>2 
 H.'i,l(l*i,10l 
 8(i,707.4ll6 
 112,4.33,108 
 
 Laril. 
 Poundj. 
 
 UurrclS. 
 
 lfi.400,».'2 BO.I.M 
 .14..'JI.'..12.1 isi.ivn 
 
 Wool. 
 Pouodj. 
 
 1.3Gll,f.l7 
 S.llll.VJl 
 
 2s,(,sr 4n; 
 2(',.7.-.s.;aw 
 
 27,211,225 
 23,627.K21 
 17,278,,V.'0 
 43,292,249 
 
 1(1 
 
 _..7(l: U',;ii,' 
 
 S4,liJ2 11.-"'. 
 
 7.5,424 l:;.i",,i 
 
 48. 1124 ."*.-." ■ 
 
 (J5,3»>9 lo,ti2tj,.* 
 
 Ifi9,.379,445 
 
 l.'^!l.277,079 
 
 'i,r"i.3:)0 
 
 Settled. 
 
 Buffalo 1801 
 
 OsweRO 1820 
 
 t:ievelRnd...l799 
 
 Detn.it 1681 
 
 i^liicaso.. . . 1823 
 Mihvauliee,,lS30 
 
 Incorporated. Population. 
 
 1833 
 1848 
 1836 
 1S02 
 1835 
 1840 
 
 8,653 
 10,305 
 
 4,000 
 700 
 800 
 
 9.C55 
 
 Total M.113 
 
 Popul.ation 
 
 in 1860. 
 
 Buffalo... 49,764 
 
 Oswego ... 12,206 
 
 Develand.. 17,ii34 
 
 Pctroit 21 067 
 
 CliieaBo , . . 29.963 
 Milwaukee 81,077 
 
 Total 
 
 Valuation. 
 
 $18,427,000 
 9,107,202 
 12.102,101 
 10,741,657 
 81,205.0110 
 18,421,000 
 
 Population Total 
 
 in 1860. Valuation. 
 
 117.715 $112,920,150 
 
 20,910 19,425,800 
 
 93,918 92,325,000 
 
 79,588 79,809,951 
 
 298,983 358,783,516 
 
 71,499 57,805,772 
 
 Milwaukee is one of the chief cities of 
 the western shore of Lake Michigan. It 
 was settled in 1834, and up to 1840 could 
 boast of but 1,700 inhabitiints. The popu- 
 lation ha<l grown to nearly 20,000 in 1850, 
 to 30,000 "ill 1853, and to 71,499 in 1870. 
 The growth has been most rapid under the 
 settlement of the country west of it, by 
 means of the large expenditures there made 
 in the last fourteen years for railroads. These 
 in the state of Wisconsin, have an aggregate 
 length of 2,779 miles, and have been con- 
 stritcted mostly in the last fifteen years at an 
 expense of $60,358,723. The expentliture 
 of this large sum of money, in addition to 
 that biid oiU, by speculators and emigrants, 
 imparted an impulse to the prosperity of the 
 city which is retlected in its population and 
 valuation. The circle of fertile country 
 poured into the city products which were 
 exported from it to the value of $35,890,288 
 in 1870, and in return $59,180,000 worth 
 of goods was imported. The manufactures 
 of the city were also valued at $23,100,000. 
 The quantity of grain shipped from Milwau- 
 kee in 1870 was 28,G45,()00 bushels, and 
 from other lake ports of Wi.-iconsin 1,5C)_I,881 
 bushels. The grain movement, which is the 
 basis of the city's commerce, indicates the 
 ratio of its growth, and is as follows : — 
 
 ,. . > n..cKi>lc Rii=hcl3. BuflhclB. 
 
 ,«! "vH« IW. r5U,6n 1857. » ?2?,..« 1SB2, IK.l.O.n,., 
 ml ;t7G;£8 \^. V20103 185», 6,.3a,0M 1870, 2:1,100,000 
 
 Tot.ll... 16 1, 100 $100,00.3,960 «S2.613 712,370,133 
 
 Thus these prominent cities have grown 
 up, so to speak, in 35 years, as points where 
 farm produce is received from the country 
 for sale and where goods are furnished in 
 exehann-e. The whole value of the lake 
 trade has been estimated at $1200,000,000 
 per annum, and the transaction of this busi- 
 ness has, it appears, created six cities, with 
 a population of G82.('.10 and a taxable valu- 
 ation of $712,330,198. The manufactures 
 have gradually increased in those cities in 
 order to produce a local supply instead of 
 importing, and new inventions in sewing 
 and other machines have promoted that 
 change, as machinery aided the development 
 of surplus produce." The aggregate trade 
 poured upon the lakes from all these sources 
 has been increasingly large. The aggregate 
 quantities of grain shipped from the grain 
 regions are seen in the following table, which 
 shows the routes taken to market : — 
 
 1857. 
 
 Tin Lake Ontario . ia,044..354 
 
 n./ Suspension Bridge . , 1,049,108 
 
 Via Lake Erie 22,031.164 
 
 From Ohio lliver eastward 4,3.52,036 
 
 1858. 
 11.872,995 
 
 1,900,000 
 S0.4.'f2,121 
 
 6,242,441 
 
 1859. 
 14,874,961 
 
 837,778 
 
 S4,73;I,6S2 
 
 ■1,446.281 
 
 Flour. 
 
 barrels. 
 ISSG, 3,879,189 
 1857, 3,412,904 
 18.58, 4,602,780 
 
 Wheat. 
 
 bushels. 
 19,956.025 
 17,362,161 
 20.794,515 
 
 Grand total 45,476,662 49,447,557 44,3-9,602 
 
 The totals were composed of these follow- 
 ing grains : — 
 
 Corn. Oth.Orain. Total in 
 
 busheis. busliels. bushels. 
 
 14 2'i2 6.32 4,634,909 68.269,671 
 
 8779.832 2,270,149 4.5.476.662 
 
 10,558,627 5,080,615 49,447,567 
 
 4 423,096 4,310,269 44,389,603 
 
 1,423.260 1,097,949 45,346,930 
 
 These fluctuations follow the course of 
 western business. In 1857 there was a 
 heavy decline under the influence of the 
 panic of that year. In 1858 the speculative 
 I consumption of the interior having ceased, 
 ' the quantities that sought market were less 
 
 1859, 3J60^285 16,804,812 
 1870, 3,315,;i09 36,246,176 
 
'«1 
 
 ;P'' 
 
WESTERN SETTLEMENT AND TRADE. 
 
 179 
 
 than in 1856. The railroads also delivered 
 considerable quantities. 
 
 The rapid settlement of the west attracted 
 the attention of tlie Canadians, and they be- 
 gan early with some energy to tal;e measures 
 that should give t'.iem their share of it. 
 The St. Lawrence river was for them the 
 only outlet, and to mate that ser\-iceable, ex- 
 tensive works were necessary to pass around 
 the rapids, and make navigation practicable 
 from the lakes to the sea. The Wclland 
 canal, passing around the Falls and connect- 
 ing Lakes Erie and Ontario, was constructed, 
 with other necessary works, completing, in 
 184G, a system, at a cost of §20,000^000. 
 The tolls on these works were considerable, 
 and duties on goods imported into Canada 
 from the United States were so high as to 
 check trade — the more so that similar duties 
 were imposed in the L'nited States on Cana- 
 dian goods. In 1850 the navigation laws 
 were repealed, opening the canals and rivers 
 to f ireiLrn vessels. The difficulties in the 
 way of navigating the St. Lawrence have 
 since that date been, to a great extent, re- 
 moved. Many light-houses liave been con- 
 structed, the system of pilotage has been 
 revised, a service of tug-boats, of great power, 
 and working at moderate rates, has been 
 organized, and the depth of water between 
 Quebec and !Montrc>al has been increased by 
 dredging, so as to permit the passage of 
 vessels drawing eighteen feet si.\ inches. 
 With these changes and improvements a 
 new element lias been introduced. The 
 construction of railways had begun to occupy 
 the attention of the public mind in Canada. 
 In 1849 an act of the Colonial Legislature 
 was passed guaranteeing C per cent, on half 
 the cost of all the railways seventy-five miles 
 in extent. Three years later the Grand 
 Trunk line, from Montreal to Toronto, and 
 from Quebec to lliviere-du-Loup, was incor- 
 porated as a part of the ilain Trunk line, 
 ami the line from Quebec to liichmond had 
 been commenced. In 185.3 the amalgama- 
 tion of all the companies firming the Main 
 Trui-k line was completed, under a I'arli.a- 
 mentary sanction with powers to construct 
 the Victoria Bridge across the St. Lawrence, 
 and thereby connect the lines west of Mon- 
 treal with those leading to Quebec and Port- 
 land. 
 
 By the aid of all these enterprises com- 
 bined, there is now in operation in Canada 
 2,093 miles of railway, including 1,112 miles 
 of the Grand Trunk, the whole connected 
 
 with the great winter harbor of Portland, in 
 the state of Maine. 
 
 To give effect to this great system of 
 communication, the wliole system of tolls 
 upon inland navigation lias been abandoned. 
 The whole line of navigation from Chicago 
 to the Atlantic is now free from tolls and 
 lake dues, the ports of Sault Ste. Marine 
 and Gaspe have been made free ports, and it 
 is probable many more will be thrown 
 open. A reciprocity treaty between Canada 
 and the United States was adopted in 18.54, 
 which continued in force till March ISCO, 
 when, as the two contracting parties could 
 not agree on terms for its renewal, it expired. 
 This treaty designated a number of articles 
 which were to be free from duty, and also 
 granted some concessions in regard to the 
 fisheries in return for some privileges which 
 Canadians received here. The treaty went 
 into operation in the latter part of 1854, and 
 the trade was affected by it as follows : 
 
 ISGO, 
 
 18 667,429 
 
 22,706,328 
 
 23,851,381 
 
 1861, 
 
 18,883,715 
 
 22,745,613 
 
 23,062,933 
 
 1862, 
 
 18.652,012 
 
 21,079,115 
 
 19,299,995 
 
 1863, 
 
 28,629,110 
 
 31,281,030 
 
 24,021,264 
 
 1864, 
 
 26,567,221 
 
 28,987,147 
 
 38,922,015 
 
 18G5, 
 
 30,455,989 
 
 32,553,841 
 
 3^,820,969 
 
 1866, 
 
 26,874,888 
 
 29,356,572 
 
 54,714,383 
 
 1867, 
 
 20,548,704 
 
 24,323,169 
 
 33,604,178 
 
 1868, 
 
 23,600,717 
 
 26,262,272 
 
 30,362,221 
 
 1869, 
 
 20,891,786 
 
 24,197,212 
 
 32,090,314 
 
 
 $362,900,937 
 
 $444,512,595 
 
 $435,443,751 
 
 1870, 
 
 
 25,118,604 
 
 37,367,076 
 
 The exports of United States produce to 
 Canada have been in this period of eigliteea 
 years nearly $73,000,000 less than the im- 
 ports from Canada. But there liave been 
 exported to Canada, in the same time, about 
 $82,000,000 of foreign goods first received 
 lit our own ports, so that the balance of the 
 trade was about $9,')00,000 in our favor. 
 1 he domestic exports are composed of the 
 produce shipped from the American lake 
 ports, and entered at the Canadian ports. 
 
 It will be noticed that on the expiration of 
 the treaty in March, 1866, there was a very 
 manifest effort to crowd Canadian goods into 
 our markets, the imports from Canada being 
 nearly $16,000,000 more than in any former 
 year, while the Canadians were not disposed 
 to take so many of our goods as usual. This 
 matter, however, speedily regidated itself, 
 and the trade is now very nearly wSat^ 
 was before the treaty was annulled. 
 
 The efforts of Canada to obtain the trade, 
 and cause it to pass down the St. Lawrence, 
 
ISO 
 
 LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 
 
 had to overcome, however, the climate, to be 
 successful ; for four montlis in tlie year that 
 outlet is ice-bound, while the ports of Lake 
 Ontario are never closed by the ice, and offer 
 railroad connection M'ith New York, Boston, 
 and I'hiladelphia, the former for export and 
 the latter for supplies of manufacture. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 RIVER CITIES— ATLANTIC CITIES. 
 
 The development given to the lake cities 
 by the canal and railroad construction, was 
 participated in to as great an extent by the 
 river cities, the course of whose trade flowed 
 downward toward New Orleans as an out- 
 let. 
 
 Pittsburg is situated at the point where 
 the junction of the Monongahola and Alle- 
 ghany forms the Ohio river, which tlienec 
 Hows to the Gulf of Mexico. The origin of 
 the place dates from its occupation by the 
 French as a post, and its growth is due to 
 its commanding position. It is .301 miles 
 east by north from Philadelphia, and is 130 
 miles from Lake Erie. Tlie traveller de- 
 scends the river 450 miles to Cincinnati ; 
 583 to Louisville, Kentucky; 977 to Cairo, 
 where the Ohio pours into the Mississippi ; 
 1,157 to St. Louis, and 2,004 miles to New 
 Orleans. That vast valley collects in its 
 course the produce coming right and left 
 by streams, canals, and railroads, to deliver 
 it at New Orleans, whence ascend the mer- 
 chandise, tropical products, and materials of 
 manufacture, to be distributed at the com- 
 mercial and manufacturing ports. The 
 position of Pittsburg was the most impor- 
 tant, commercially, until the opening of the 
 Eric canal. Its resources were highly 
 favorable to ship-building, and it su])plied 
 the iirst boats that descended the Ohio. Tlie 
 commerce and ship-building prospered 
 largely during the war of 1812, but after the 
 peace it declined. Since that period manu- 
 factures have taken the place of commerce, 
 and it ranks next to Pliiladelphia as a man- 
 / ufacturing town. The population in 1800 
 / was 1,565, and in 1816 it was incorporated 
 I as a city with .about 6,150 inhaliitants. 
 The population of Pittsburg in 1870 was 
 86,235, while Alleghany City, across the 
 river, had 53,181, and other suburbs really 
 forming part of the cjty, about 75,000 
 wore, making a total of about 210,000. 
 
 The progress of the city has been as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 ropul.ition. Value of mnnufitcturea. 
 
 1816, 6,182 $i,sut;,aue 
 
 1836, 15,481 ir>,575,440 
 
 1850, 46,G01 5,5. '^87, 000 
 
 1860. 49,220 70,000,nno 
 
 1870, 86,235 111,881,000 
 
 Cincinnati was located at the moulh of 
 the Licking river in 1788, in the centre of 
 an area whicli commanded the commerce of 
 the Miami, the AVab.i.sh, the Scioto, the 
 Muskingum, and the Kanawha rivers. These 
 streams delivered large qu.antities of produce 
 to foster the trade of Cincinnati, which grew 
 with great rapidity, corresponding mostly 
 with New Orleans, to which its merchants 
 sent the produce, and made purchases of 
 goods in the eastern states, which came up 
 the river from New Orleans by a long voy- 
 age, charged with heavy expenses for freight, 
 insurance, etc. The exchanges ran on New 
 Orleans against the produce sent down, and 
 these credits were the means of payments 
 for goods. The opening of the Ohio canal 
 to the lakes, to correspond with the Erie 
 canal to tide-water, gave a new outlet for 
 produce of the northern part of Ohio by way 
 of Cleveland, and also a better channel for 
 the receipt of goods. The net-work of niil- 
 roads h.as still further multiplied the means 
 of communication. Portland, I5o.ston, New 
 York, I'hiladelphia, and Baltimore, arc almost 
 enuidistant from Cincinnati, which by the 
 same means has its markets extended in a 
 broader circle west. The progress of the 
 city has been as follows : — 
 
 Population. Imports. M.iniifacturcs. Exports, 
 isnn, 7,,o 
 
 18 1 II. 2,5-40 
 
 1S20, 9,M4 Jl,619,n.^0 lll,059,4.'.9 J1,S34,nSO 
 
 1S.3II, M.ml 2.5'i>...">90 l.sJiO.IKHI l,ll( :i..',CO 
 
 1SSI1, .Tl.'iOI 8,'J7li,l!(IO Ii.','SS.2 S,10I,III0 
 
 IS4II, 4G,838 10.972,11110 17,7S0,li38 15.4Ml,liOII 
 
 ISO. 1I5.;86 41.236,199 5J,5Jll,134 S.3,;S4,SriC 
 
 18eil, 1 1.044 9(i."13.274 1 1 2.'.'54.Ol)0 01^.1107 707 
 
 is7fi, 213,000 312,978,665 127,459,021 193,517,690 
 
 These figures give the rapid growth of the 
 city since the railro.ads have opened a broader 
 field from which to draw the materials of 
 trade in exchange for merchandise demanded 
 by the growers. 
 
 Louisville, Kcntuckj-, was a port early 
 in 1781, and it made little progress as a 
 city. Its population grew but to 6U0 in 
 1800, and was only 4,012 in 1820. The 
 difficulties of navigation were a drawback 
 upon its commerce, until the Portland canal, 
 two miles long, which liad been authorized 
 in 1804, around the falls of the Ohio, was 
 opened in 1830. The cost of the work, 
 $600,000, was paid, one-third by the United 
 
RIVER CITIES ATLANTIC CITIES. 
 
 ISl 
 
 States, and tlic balance mostly in eastern 
 cities interested in gettintr goods up the 
 river. A bridge over the Ohio was built in 
 183G, at a cost" of $250,000. The city was 
 incorporated in 1828, and its population 
 was then 10,330. In 1836 the population 
 was 19,907, and the annual amount of busi- 
 ness transacted was 829,004,202. In 1840 
 the population was 21,210, and in 1850 it 
 had aj;ain doubled, reaching 43,194. 
 
 St. Louis was occupied as a French trad- 
 ing post in 1703, and tlic town was laid out 
 in the following year, with the name of St. 
 Louis, in honor of that Louis XV. who had 
 so little claim to saintship. The first im- 
 pulse to its growth was, however, the annex- 
 ation of Louisiana to the United States, 
 when emigrants poured into the new coun- 
 try, bringing with them a spirit of enterprise 
 wliich soon made visible efl'ects upon St. 
 Louis, the commerce of which struggled 
 
 against the difficulties inherent in barge 
 and keel boat navigation. In 1817 the 
 General Pike, the first steamboat, arrived at 
 St. Louis. That event marked a new era, 
 and in 1822, the population being 4,598, the 
 city was incorporated. It was not until the 
 settlement of the north-western states, under 
 the influence of the canals and railroads, that 
 the prosperity of St. Louis became marked. 
 In 1830 the sales of merchandise in St. 
 Louis were given at $0,335,000 ; in 1858 the 
 local insurance was §31,800,232. The popu- 
 lation of the city, which had been 03,491 in 
 1848, rose to 151,780 in 1860, and the city 
 valuation was ¥^78,403, 375. Tlie settlements 
 of the upper Mississippi, east and west, pour 
 naturally an increasing trade into the city, 
 and its railroad connections are now push- 
 ing out toward the Pacific. We may re- 
 capitulate the leading river cities as fol- 
 lows : — - 
 
 Settled. 
 Date. 
 
 Pittsburg 1784, 
 
 Cincinnati 1T8S, 
 
 Louisville 177.3, 
 
 St. Louis 17M, 
 
 Ineorpnr.nte<I. 
 
 Date. 
 ISin, 
 1802, 
 ISCS, 
 1822, 
 
 1S4(1. 
 
 rojiulafn Pnpulat'n. 
 21,115 
 4i',33S 
 21,510 
 16,469 
 
 6,160 
 MO 
 
 lo.nre 
 
 4,698 
 
 PMpiilatiu 
 4(1.(01 
 115,436 
 43,191 
 
 77,860 
 
 V.iluation. 
 
 $'.'7.'.'6i 1,600 
 .66,670.031 
 17,277.r,00 
 3« 9-.; 1,201 
 
 Population. 
 
 49.220 
 161,044 
 
 69,740 
 151,780 
 
 Valuation. 
 
 $40,866,600 
 91.801.978 
 30,IM2,800 
 78,463,375 
 
 Total 21,974 105,221 283,091 $139,630,032 431,784 $247,234,703 
 
 Tlie numbers and wealth of the river cities 
 have increased in a ratio, perhaps, larger than 
 the lake cities. They divide with the latter 
 the trade of countiy lying between the lakes 
 and the Ohio river, drawing produce and 
 shipping merchandise, while they have also a 
 strong hold upon southern trade. The busi- 
 ness of all those cities, as well lake as river, is 
 but a reflection of the growth of the great sea- 
 ports. The canals, streams, and railroads that 
 pour forth their products in a southerly di- 
 rection, and feed the river cities, combine 
 with the other business points of the region to 
 swell tlie trade of New Orleans, the common 
 correspondent of all ; the roads, rivers, and 
 streams that deliver their trade in a northerly 
 and easterly direction, glut the great trunk 
 lines with the merchandise which they pour 
 int') Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and 
 Baltimore. 
 
 The city of New Orleaxs, at the Delta 
 of the Mississippi, is commercially the second 
 city of the Union, and in respect to the ex- 
 ports of domestic produce, it ranks first. Its 
 position is very advantageous, and its growth 
 has been proportional to the development 
 of the country, the resources of which sup- 
 ply it with produce and depend upon it for 
 merchandise in return. Tlie city itself was 
 
 founded by the Frencli in I7l7, and passed 
 into the hands of the Spanish in 1702. By 
 them it was reconveyed to the French m 
 1800,and wassoldby Napoleon to the United 
 States in 1804. At that time its population, 
 mostly French, was 8,056, and it was rapidly 
 increased by the fact of annexation, which 
 not only carried enterprising men thither, but 
 settled the upper country, which was the 
 source of trade. The city was chartered in 
 1 805. In 1820 the population had increased 
 to 27,176 persons, but the exports of the 
 city still consisted mostly of the produce of 
 the upper country, which a population, in- 
 creased rapidly by the influence of war and 
 speculation, had greatly developed, although 
 the valley of the Mississippi had not yet 
 attracted cotton planters. In 1830 the trade 
 of the city marked a larger production of 
 farm produce. In the succeeding ten years 
 the migr.ttion from the Atlantic cotton states 
 to the new lands of the valley produced a 
 great change in the trade of New Orleans. 
 The cotton receipts rose from 300,000 bales 
 in 1830, to 954,000 in 1840, and tobacco 
 from twenty -four to forty-three thousand 
 hogsheads, and the sugar crop also had risen 
 to 85,000 hhds. The exports were now 
 swollen by the sales of cotton and tobacco, 
 
1R2 
 
 LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TKADE. 
 
 but, with the operation of the canals and been as follows. The figures for 1 860 are 
 railroads in the upper country, the supplies 1 notpublished, but thecotton is 30 per cent, 
 of home produce liad again become impor- 1 higher, and the amount will be about $200,- 
 tant. The progress of New Orleans lias , 000,000 received from the interior. 
 
 1804, 
 1810, 
 1820, 
 1830, 
 1840, 
 1850, 
 1851, 
 1852, 
 1863, 
 1854, 
 1855, 
 1856, 
 1857, 
 1858, 
 1859, 
 1870, 
 
 Population. 
 
 8,056 
 
 17,242 
 
 27,176 
 
 46,310 
 
 102,193 
 
 116,375 
 
 168,472 
 191,322 
 
 Imports. 
 
 $3,379,717 
 7,599,083 
 10,673,190 
 10,760,499 
 12,528,460 
 12,057,724 
 13,654,113 
 14,402,150 
 12,923,008 
 17,183,327 
 24,981,150 
 19,586,013 
 18,349,516 
 14,993,754 
 
 Export*. 
 $1,392 093 
 1,753,974 
 7,242,415 
 13,042,740 
 34.236.936 
 38,105,350 
 54,413,903 
 49,058,885 
 67,768,724 
 00,172,028 
 55,688,552 
 80,547,963 
 91,514,286 
 88,382,438 
 101,734,952 
 107,051,042 
 
 Receipts from 
 Interior. 
 
 $45,701,045 
 96,897,873 
 106,924,083 
 108,051,708 
 134,233,731 
 115,330,798 
 117,106,823 
 144,256,081 
 158,061,369 
 167,155,546 
 172,952,664 
 205,000,000 
 
 Eeceipts of 
 Specie. 
 
 $3,792,662 
 7,938,119 
 6,278,523 
 7,865,226 
 0,967,056 
 3,746,037 
 4,913,540 
 6,500,015 
 13,268,013 
 15,627,016 
 
 Valuntion of 
 Keal Estate. 
 
 $66,350,260 
 
 108,651,135 
 111,193,802 
 127,942,781 
 
 This table embraces the official figures for 
 population, trade, and valuation. The most 
 marked feature is the small amount of im- 
 ports as compared with exports. This we 
 shall find to bo the reverse with the trade of 
 New York ; the trade of the two cities for 
 the past year having been as follows : — 
 
 New York. New Orleana. 
 
 Imports $31.5,200,022 $14,993,744 
 
 Exports 254,137,208 107,657,042 
 
 The exports from New York, exclusive 
 of s]iecie and foreign goods re-exported, were 
 $I8o,740,(K5l, the imports exceeding this by 
 $129,459,961, while at New Orleans the ex- 
 cess of exports was $82,564,902. Tliese 
 (igures represent the course of trade. Tiie 
 receipts from the interior at New Orleans 
 rose from $96,897,873 in 1850, to $172,952,- 
 664 in 1859. The vicissitudes of the war 
 made great changes in the commerce of New 
 Orleans, yet these receipts in 1870 were about 
 $33,000,000 greater than in 1859. Sugar 
 and molasses were $9,945,245 ; cotton was 
 $120,000,000; rice, $869,340, while farm 
 produce, minerals, &c., made up, together, a 
 little more than $75,000,000. The lighter 
 merchandise which forms tlie sum of imports 
 into New York, instead of going round byway 
 of New Orleans, goes across the country on 
 railroads. It follows, that when the west 
 sends forty millions of produce to New Or- 
 leans for sale, and has purchased an equal 
 amount of goods in the east, that its money 
 is in New Orleans and its debts in New York. 
 It draws upon New Orleans then to pay 
 New York. New Orleans being so large an 
 
 exporter, has largo sums due it, for which it 
 draws to meet what it owes to the west for 
 produce. This state of aflairs is the basis of 
 bill operations. Firms being connected, one 
 at Liverpool, one at New Orleans, and one at 
 New York, the New Orleans house buys 
 cotton for shipment to England, and draws 
 for it at sixty days on the New York firm; 
 the bill being discounted, places him in funds 
 to pay for the cotton, which will arrive in 
 Liverpool in thirty da3's. The New York 
 firm draws a sterling bill against it at sixty 
 day.s, and, with the proceeds, meets the bill 
 drawn on it from New Orleans. The 
 sterling bill is then mot by the sales of cotton 
 four months after it was bought. In the 
 mean time, the bill on New York passes into 
 the hands of the western debtors of New 
 York, who send it thither in payment of 
 goods purchased. The sterling bill is sold 
 to the New York importer, who remits it 
 abroad in payment of goods imported. The 
 receipts of cotton and sugar have been very 
 large of late years, but the quantities of west- 
 ern pi'oduce restdtingfrom the more rapid set- 
 tlement of the land under the influence of 
 the railroads, have also greatly increased. In 
 1840, the value of cotton, sugar, and to- 
 bacco received was $36,124,275, leaving but 
 $9,591, 770 for western produce. In the 
 year of famine the aggregate receipts at 
 New Orleans rose to $90,033,251, of which 
 $42,599,361 was western produce. In 1857, 
 those articles were valued at $49,009,976 ; 
 flour and grain counting in that year for 
 nearly $1 5,000,000. I>y"mcans of time bills. 
 New Orleans thus furnishes a large capital to 
 dealers ; and in years of economy and re- 
 
ACADEMY OF DESIGN, N. V. 
 
 
 COOPER INSTITUTE. CuNTAININU SCHOOL OF IIESIGN, 
 (In which Young Ladie. are laughl Drawing and Engraving.) 
 

 JfBW ti. i 1..... 
 
 lUL M,H VulUv hlOCK EXCHANGE. 
 
RIVER CITIES ATLANTIC CITIES. 
 
 183 
 
 trenchment, when the purchases of goods are 
 diminished, it shows a large inward current 
 of specie. In 1851, California supplied a 
 good deal of gold at that point, but-changed 
 direction after the establishment of a mint 
 at San Francisco, and the receipts of specie 
 were small at New Orleans in 1855 — a specu- 
 lative year. They became large with the 
 panic year, and continued so till 1861, when 
 the city, jouiing in the Rebellion, the branch 
 mint was discontinued, and has not since 
 been re-established. 
 
 While New Orleans thus expanded its 
 trade, and grew in wealth under the influ- 
 ence of western production, the proportion 
 that it enjoyed was by no means the largest. 
 Each Atlantic city had made eftbrts to ob- 
 tain a share, and, with more or less success, 
 Canada sought to attract it down the St. 
 Lawrence. New York built two railroads to 
 aid the canals in connecting the lakes with 
 ti<lc water. Boston formed a connection 
 with the Hudson river, and another with the 
 lakes at Ogdensburgh. Philadelphia im- 
 proved its hold on Pittsburg. Baltimore 
 tlirust out its iron arm to Wheeling, and all 
 these oftered inducements to trade. The 
 number of tons moved one mile during given 
 years in each shows the progress of trade : 
 
 Tons. Tons, 
 
 Eriecanal, 1840 312,016,346 
 
 Nfw York canals, 1869 919,153,611 
 
 New York Central railroad, 1869, .2,179,419.726 
 
 New York and Erie, 1869 817,829,190 2.211 ,402,527 
 
 Increase in tonnage, 1,899,386,181 
 
 The valuation of this tonnage is nearly 
 1350,000,000 per annum, and this affords an 
 indication only of the wealth which has 
 passed eastward. Thus, in 1 840, the value of 
 western produce, that found market by New 
 Orleans and the Erie canal, was §51,000,000; 
 in 1858, it was nearly 8400,000,000, or an 
 increase ten-fold, and on this mainly has 
 the prosperity of the eastern cities depended. 
 The exports of the southern ports have 
 grown mostly with the direct export of cot- 
 ton, and those at the north have added grad- 
 ually food and manufactures thereto. The 
 general course of trade has been to cen- 
 tralize imports in New York. 
 
 Charleston owes its origin to a stock 
 sirailar to that of New England, since a 
 colony of French Huguenots, flying from 
 persecution, settled there in 1690. It was 
 not chartered as a city, however, until nearly 
 
 a century later, viz. : in 178.3, when its popu- 
 lation was nearly 16,000. The commerce of 
 Charleston is not extensive, but its facilities 
 for internal communications are large, and 
 enjoys the trade of the whole state, together 
 with much of that of North Carolina and 
 Georgia. A canal, twenty-two nules long, 
 connects the Cooper with the Santee river. 
 It has a fleet of steamboats that are running 
 to the neighboring cities, and several lines 
 of packets running to New York regularly. 
 Its mo.st important connection is, however, 
 the South Carolina railroad, running 136 
 miles to Hamburg, on the Savannah river, 
 opposite Augusta, Georgia. The population 
 and business have been as follows : — 
 
 Population. Imports. K.'^pnrts. 
 
 noo, lij..^59 $4,516,205 $i,U9H,268 
 
 182U, 24,480 3,007,113 8,882,940 
 
 1830, 30,289 1,054,619 1,627,031 
 
 1840, 29,261 2,318,791 11,042,070 
 
 1850, 42,985 1,933,785 11,447,800 
 
 1860, 51,210 2,070 249 16,888,262 
 
 1870, 48,956 617,094 11,184,208 
 
 The importfitions have decreased and the 
 export also, in consequence of the bu.-iness 
 (lejiression which followed the wiu-, and from 
 which the city is now slowly recovering. 
 
 Baltimore was laid out as a town, by 
 Roman Catholics, in 1729, and up to 1765 
 it contained but fifty houses. The persua- 
 sion of the founders still predominates. It 
 is situated on the Patapsco river, fourteen 
 miles from Chesapeake bay, and two hundred 
 miles from the ocean. The harbor is a very 
 fine one. The city enjoys great facilities for 
 commerce, and possesses the trade of Mary- 
 land and part of Pennsylvania, while it has 
 of late obtained a good share of that of the 
 western states. It w.as the great tobacco 
 market of tlie country, but Richmond now 
 rivals it in that respect. As a flour market, 
 it has few equals. The building of railroads 
 to connect with the interior has greatly pro- 
 moted the city trade, which has progressed 
 as follows : — 
 
 Exports. \ 
 
 $2,239,691 \ 
 
 Population. Imports. 
 
 1790, 13,503 $6,018,500 
 
 1800, 26,514 
 
 1810, 46,555 
 
 1820, 62,738 
 
 1830, 80,625 
 
 1840, 102,313 
 
 1850, 169,054 
 
 1860, 212,419 
 
 1870, 267,354 
 
 4,070,842 
 4,523,866 
 5,701,869 
 6,124,201 
 8,930,157 
 20,000,000 
 
 12,264,331 
 6,489,018 
 6,609,364 
 3,791,482 / 
 4,524,575 / 
 6,967,353 ,' 
 
 10,442,616 
 
 12,765,052 
 
 The importations have been usually fol- 
 lowed with increase ia exports, but 1870 
 
184 
 
 LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 
 
 was an exception in consequence of the 
 Franco-German war, which cut off the Eu- 
 ropean demand for tobacco. 
 
 PiiiLADKi.i'HiA. at the close of the last cen- 
 tury ,was the first city of America, and though 
 it has not ceased to expand since that time, 
 yet New York, by force of natural advanta- 
 ges, has come to exceed it as a commercial 
 city. Its resources for manufacturing are 
 such, however, as to have ^iven it a high 
 rank in the interior trade of the country. 
 The vvater-jiower of the neighborhood is very 
 important, and rails and canals give it com- 
 mand of limitless supplies of raw materials, 
 coal and iron in particular. The position of 
 the city was early improved by the construc- 
 tion of canals to the extent of y3G miles, at 
 a cost of $24,000,000; .and seven lines, com- 
 posed of 1 2 railroads, of 507 miles in length, 
 radiated to every point of the comjiass, hav- 
 ing cost $53,716,201. The canals and roads 
 have swollen ihe comI receiptsof Piiiladelpliia 
 from 3(3") tons in 1820, to more than ln.ddi).- 
 000 tons in 1870, valued at $;j5,0OI',OO<> 
 per annum. The population and ext<rnal 
 trade of Philadel]ihia have been as follows: — 
 
 Popiilafion. Imports. Exports. Tat.il vaIu,ition, 
 
 16S4, 
 
 ■^,5h(l 
 
 
 
 
 
 179 1, 
 
 42,5'>0 
 
 
 $3,436,893 
 
 V 
 
 
 18 JO, 
 
 10S,U6 
 
 SS,1. ',8,922 
 
 5,74.3,.'i49 
 
 $411,48- 
 
 ,239 
 
 1S40, 
 
 2iS,lW7 
 
 ll.i'Ml,! 11 
 
 3,841,509 
 
 99,32 
 
 ,S51 
 
 issn. 
 
 408.7112 
 
 lilllifi.irit 
 
 4,.')I)1.60G 
 
 
 
 I'-S'S. 
 
 .WD.IIIW 
 
 12>;l2,2i5 
 
 6,030,411 
 
 15.%C9" 
 
 ,C69 
 
 ]S70, 
 
 674,022 
 
 17,oj.j,SL5 
 
 16,049,823 
 
 607,y87 
 
 ,iWO 
 
 The city of Philadelphia was first settled 
 in 1627 by the Swedes, but was regulated 
 and laid out in 1G82 according to the views of 
 William I'cnn, and its population in 1684 w.as 
 2,500. The city is one hundred miles from 
 the ocean, eighty-seven miles from New York, 
 and 130 miles from Washington. It is five 
 miles from the junction of the Schuylkill and 
 Delaware rivers, extending from one to the 
 other, and its harbor is on tlioDelawarc,or east- 
 ern side. Vessels drawing more than twenty 
 feet water cannot reach Philadelphia, and the 
 navigation for large .ships below is a little 
 difficult. Pilots take inward bound ships at 
 sea. These circumstances have aided to give 
 Philadelphia, a moderate foreign commerce 
 as compared with the commanding harbor 
 of New York. 
 
 But if the foreign commerce of Philadel- 
 phia is moderate, owing to physical diffi- 
 culties, the internal commerce, from sales of 
 manufactures and goods imported at New 
 York, is very large — and the real growth 
 of the city is indicated by her external trade 
 less than that of, perhaps, any other city of 
 
 the Union. The census of 1870 showed a 
 population of G74,02"2. The manufacturing 
 industry of Philadelphia has increased in a 
 remarkable ratio. In 184.5 the capital em- 
 ployed in the city proper was $18,000,000, 
 the production $21,0(10,000, and of the 
 neigbborho(.d $33,000,000. 
 
 In 1870 the capital invested in the various 
 industries was given at $20.5,.5C4,238,employ- 
 ing 1 19,.532 hands, and producing $251,603,- 
 921 of annual value. In Ihe vicinity tlie amount 
 is $47,500,000 additional. These figures de- 
 note that Philadelphia is probably the great- 
 est manufacturing city of the Union, and 
 will continue to grow in that direction by 
 the force of the same iufiuencos which tend 
 to give New York the commercial prepon- 
 derance. The trade of the city is on a grand 
 scale, and second to none in the world for 
 m.agnitude of operations, or successful method 
 in conducting thein. A leading .store of that 
 city is a model of mercantile method. Each 
 department in the store is alphabetically 
 designated. The shelves and rows of goods 
 in each dep.artment are numbered, and upon 
 the tag attached to the goods is marked the 
 letter of the department, the number of the 
 shelf, and vow on that shelf to which such 
 piece of goods belongs. The cashier receives 
 a certain sum extra per week, and he is res- 
 ponsible for all worthless money received. 
 Books are kept, in which the sales of each 
 clerk are entered for the day, and the salary 
 of the clerk cast, as a per-centage on each 
 day, week, and year, and, at the foot of the 
 page, the aggregate of the sales appears, and 
 the per-centage that it has cost to effect 
 these sales is easily calculated for each day, 
 month, or year. The counters are desig- 
 nated by an imaginary color, as the blue, 
 green, brown, etc., counter. The yard-sticks 
 and counter-brush belonging to it are painted 
 to correspond with the imag'inary color of 
 the counter ; so by a very simple arrange- 
 ment, each of these necessaries is kept where 
 it belongs; and should any be missing, the 
 faulty clerks are easily known. 
 
 All wrapping paper coming into the store 
 is. immediately taken to a counter in the 
 basement, where a lad attends with a pair 
 of shears, whose duty it is to cut the paper 
 into pieces to correspond with the size of the 
 parcels sold at the different departments, to 
 which he sees that it is transferred. All 
 pieces too small for this, even to the smallest 
 scraps, are by hiin put into a sack, and what 
 is usually thrown away by our merchants, 
 
till oMeii time.] 
 
 L.VlIIA.Mj]:, I'LACL, IGJO. 
 
 A. T. STEWART'S RESIDENCE. FIFTH AVENUE, N. Y., FIRST CLASS DWELLING, 1870. 
 
NEW YORK TELEGRAPn EXPRESS GOLD. 
 
 185 
 
 yields to the sj-stcmatic man some S'20 per 
 year. In one part of the establishment is a 
 tool closet, with a work-bcncli attached ; the 
 closet occupies but little space, yet in it is 
 seen almost every useful tool, and this is 
 arranged with the hand-saw to form the cen- 
 tre, and the smaller tools radiating from it 
 in sun form ; behind each article is painted, 
 ■with black paint, the shape of the tool be- 
 longing in that place. 
 
 It is, consequently, impossible that any 
 thing should be out of place except through 
 design, and if any tool is missing, the wall 
 will show the shadow without the substance. 
 The proprietor's desk stands at the further 
 end of the store, raised on a platform facing 
 the ftxmt, from which he can see all the 
 operations in each section of the retail de- 
 partment. From this desk run tubes, con- 
 necting with each department of the store, 
 from the garret to the cellar, so that if a 
 person in any department, either porter, re- 
 tail, or wholesale clerk, wishes to communi- 
 cate with the employer, he can do so with- 
 out leaving his station. Pages are kept in 
 each department to take the bill of parcels, 
 together with the money paid, and return 
 the bill receipted, and change, if any, to the 
 customer. So that the salesman is never 
 obliged to leave the counter ; he is at all 
 times ready either to introduce a new article 
 or watch that no goods are taken from his 
 counter, excepting those accounted for. 
 
 By a peculiar method of casting the per- 
 centage of a clerk's salary on his sales, coup- 
 ling it with the clerk's general conduct, and 
 the stylo of goods he is selling, a just esti- 
 mate may be formed of the relative value of 
 the services of each, in proportion to his 
 salary. By the alphabetic arrangement of 
 departments, numbering of shehes, and form 
 of the tools, any clerk, no matter if lie has 
 not been in the store more tlian an hour, can 
 arrange every article in its proper place ; and 
 at any time, if inquired of respecting, or re- 
 ferred to by any clerk, the proprietor is able 
 to speak understandingl}' of the capabilities 
 and business qualities of any of his employees. 
 Population in 1800, fi7;^,022. 
 
 Boston was settled early in the seven- 
 teenth centnrv, and in 1681 was the most 
 populous of the Atlantic cities, having 6,300 
 inhabitants. It is 216 miles from New 
 York, and although possessed of one of the 
 finest harbors on the coast, it had no facilities 
 for reaching the back country, wdiicli was for 
 the most part rocky and mountainous, until 
 
 Population. Imports. 
 16S4, li..3«0 
 
 1790, 18,083 $6,519..'ill0 
 
 1S20, 43.-.93 l■i,^•2t).^32 
 
 1S30, 61,392 10,453,544 
 
 1S40, 9H.;-.;3 13,.'i00,9i5 
 
 1S50, 138,S»1 30,374.664 
 
 1S55, 163,6 9 45,113,774 
 
 1S."8, 170.000 40,432,710 
 
 railroads were constructed. Its early trade 
 was in navigation and the fisheries. Its first 
 adventure was in 1027, when a sloop, loaded 
 with corn, was sent to Narraganset to trade, 
 and made an encouraging voyage. Its in- 
 habitants soon became rich by doinf the 
 trade of others in their celebrated ships, un- 
 til manufacturing became possible. The 
 energy and intelligence of the race, when 
 turned in that direction, soon drew large 
 profits from their industry, and moi'c freight 
 for their coasting tonnage, which increased 
 as the numbers engaged in manufacture re- 
 quired more food and raw materials. The 
 greatest start was given to the trade of the 
 city when railroads had laid open even the 
 remotest regions of the interior to its enter- 
 prise. The general course of its population, 
 trade, and valuation lias been as follows : — \ 
 
 Exports. YaliL-ition. I 
 
 $2,.il7.6".l J6,09n.8!IO ; 
 
 li,iios.y'j2 ;i>>.2SS,'2oo 
 
 7,'2I3.I94 Cl,7,--0,210 
 
 9,104,s62 )ll..',IOI.201 
 
 10,681,763 180,0110.600 
 
 28,190.935 249.512,600 
 
 20,979,^63 262,014.500 
 
 1870, 250,&26 47,524,845 14,108,821 65t,U8S',4C« 
 
 Tlio exports of Boston have taken a great 
 start since 18.30, and since then tlicre liave 
 been constructed nine lines of railroad, which 
 radiate from Boston in every direction ; 
 placing every town in New England in con- 
 nection with it, and by continuous lines, every 
 city of the Union, from Bangor to New 
 Orleans, St. Louis, Chicago, and St. Paul. 
 The running of the line of Cunard steamers 
 gives it a European connection more prompt 
 and regular than any other. Its extensive 
 trade shows the eft'ect of these connections, 
 and its taxable valuation the wealth that 
 accumulates from its manufacturing industry. 
 That valuation was, for 1870, $.584,039,400, 
 and the population 250,526. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 NEW YORK— TELEGRAPH— EXPRESS- 
 GOLD. 
 
 The city of New York, at the close of the 
 revolution, was the second city of the new 
 world, taking rank after I'hiladelphia. Its in- 
 ternal trade was limited to the capacity of the 
 Hudson river, but its traders pushed across to 
 Lake Champlain, and even to Lake Ontario, 
 whence they drew skins and furs from the 
 Indians, and brought down some of the prod- 
 uce of Vermont and New Hampshire. At 
 this date there was little trade west of 
 Albany. The trade was mostly with the 
 
186 
 
 LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 
 
 towns on the east side of the river, and with 
 Rutland, BurUngton, and other Vermont 
 towns, as well as the western towns of Massa- 
 chusetts. Remittances were made from 
 these towns in ashes, wheat, etc., and during 
 the embargo and war, smuggling was very ex- 
 tensively carried on, taking pay in specie. 
 The goods went up the river in sloops. The 
 New England cities had equal commercial 
 advantages, and Philadelphia enjoyed many 
 others in addition. The valley of the Hud- 
 son furnished, however, large supplies of 
 farm produce during the wars of Europe, 
 which gave a preponderance to the New 
 York trade, and it began to gain strength. 
 In 1807 the passage of Fulton's steamer to 
 Albany gave a great impulse to the river 
 trade. Her statesmen, however, soon saw 
 the necessity of a more extended inland com- 
 munication, and the canal, which had been 
 projected before the peace, became a legal 
 reality in 1817, and a ph^-sical fact in 18:25. 
 The capital of the New York merchants be- 
 gan to be invested in enterprises which re- 
 sulted in centring trade in the city. The 
 canal connection opened the vast circle of 
 the lake trade to New York city, and poured 
 into its basin the western farm produce at 
 rates far below what the same articles could 
 be raised for at the east. As a necessity, 
 tliercfore. New York became the point of 
 supply, not only for the foreign trade, but 
 for the neighboring states. The growing 
 manufactures of I'liiladelphia and Boston 
 found cheaper food in New York than in 
 their own neighborhood, and North river 
 sloops and schooners continued the Erie 
 canal to the Delaware and the Charles river. 
 As new routes to the west, and more ex- 
 tended settlements in that region opened 
 new sources for the supply of produce, and 
 new markets for goods, the tendency was to 
 New York. The capital engaged in com- 
 merce at that point being the largest, prod- 
 uce found readier advances and more 
 prompt realization, while the large imports 
 and consignments of foreign goods made the 
 assortment larger and the average cost less 
 there than elsewhere. The same circum- 
 stance that drew produce into New York 
 bay, also drew eastern manufactures to the 
 same point, and this increased the assort- 
 ment which was to be found at the common 
 centre. The fact that produce tended gen- 
 erally to New York, as a matter of course 
 made it the centre of finance. The United 
 States government, and bank, and mint had 
 
 been established at Philadelphia. Those 
 circumstances could not, however, control 
 the currents of trade. The pork, and corn, 
 and wheat of the west, the manufactures of 
 the east, the tobacco, cotton, and rice of the 
 south, being sent to New York to obtain 
 advances, it followed that from all quarters 
 bills drawn against produce ran on New 
 York. Those bills found buyers amonf 
 the country dealers, who, in all directions, 
 wanted to remit to New York to pay for 
 goods there purchased. Capital could not 
 keep aloof from the focus of transactions, and 
 all loans to be made or financial operations 
 to bo conducted, sought New York. For 
 the same reason all funds seeking investments 
 went there to find them. Produce, goods, 
 raw material, capital, all operated in refer- 
 ence to New York, and tlie foreign trade 
 was the motor which kept up the circulation. 
 This tendency to a centre once commenced, 
 cannot be turned, but it strengthens with 
 the general increase of the country. The 
 other cities strive to turn a portion of the 
 current each in its own direction, but the 
 result of those efforts is only to increase the 
 aggregate trade of the whole. 
 
 If the amount of specie exported, and for 
 the most part tliat is but a transit trade from^ 
 California, is deducted from the New York 
 account. New Orleans will be found to come 
 witliin S8S.00l),0i'0 of it. The Unas of 
 communication witli tlie interior, and the 
 facilities for advancing on produce, drew to 
 New York a considerable portion of the 
 western produce, and operations are now 
 there carried on which partake of a specula- 
 tive character. Pork, flour, etc., are often sold 
 largely for future delivery on the New York 
 exchange ; and nmch of the cotton shipped 
 from southern ports direct to Europe, is 
 resold in New York many times before it 
 arrives out. When the cotton is put on 
 board ship for Liverpool, samples and bills 
 of lading are sent to New York, and the 
 cotton sold " in transitu " — that is, during 
 its passage to Europe. Should the ocean 
 telegraph come into operation, this system 
 could be carried to a much greater extent, 
 since news from the Liverpool market could 
 be received at least thirty days after a cargo 
 is shipped before its arrival out ; and in 
 speculative times, other articles will be sub- 
 ject to file same operations. The export J)f 
 corn first became a large business in the 
 famine years of 1847-8, and the sub- 
 divisions of qualities, round and flat, yellow, 
 
NE"W YORK TELEGRAPn EXPRESS GOLD. 
 
 187 
 
 white, etc., then manifested themselves. In 
 1859 the crops were greatly beyond any 
 former experience, and every available 
 means of transportation was taken up to 
 convey them to market. The realization of 
 them depends upon the quantities that Eu- 
 rope may require, and this depends upon the 
 events of a few weeks. The steamers now 
 give intelligence in eight or ten days, when 
 formerly thirty were required. Since the 
 
 ocean telegraphs have worked, the price of 
 corn in Liverpool is known simultaneously 
 in New York and Chicago, and water trans- 
 portation pressed to the utmost before the 
 frosts close it. 
 
 The proportion which each of the cities 
 named enjoys of the aggregate export trade 
 of the whole country, is seen in the following 
 table : — 
 
 EXPORTS OF THE LEADING ARTICLES OP DOMESTIC PRODUCE FROM THE CHIEF ATLANTIC CITIES IN 1870. 
 
 Boston. Plailadelphia. 
 
 Boef $92,631 $34',9ft7 
 
 Pork 4+l,G98 116,147 
 
 Luintjcr 223,755 92,556 
 
 Furniture 448,720 3,181 
 
 PctroluLim and coal oils. 586,130 11,662,120 
 
 Butter 37,875 13,128 
 
 Cheese 7,623 5,018 
 
 Hams, &e 255,511 39,272 
 
 Lard 139,694 234,626 
 
 Tallow 346,547 119,746 
 
 Cotton 148,179 
 
 Tobacco, manufactured. 151,345 6,218 
 
 leaf 478,226 26,757 
 
 Rice 7,922 85 
 
 Naval stores 58,321 10,687 
 
 Brass manufactures 2,764 1,095 
 
 Iron " 1,615,554 384,107 
 
 Cotton " 50.980 5,403 
 
 Wood " 767,770 894,773 
 
 Gold and silver coin 10,073 7,317 
 
 " bullion.. 
 
 Corn 80,519 190,164 
 
 Wheat 1,504,377 
 
 Flour 1,160,653 923,955 
 
 Spirits 652,952 280 
 
 Sewing machines 117,934 2,460 
 
 Total $7,784,376 $16,278.329 3 
 
 Baltimore. 
 
 New Orleans. 
 
 New York. 
 
 Total. 
 
 828,521 
 
 $9,237 
 
 $1,754,953 
 
 $1,920,299 
 
 110,710 
 
 25,914 
 
 2,098,345 
 
 2.792,814 
 
 108,029 
 
 30,691 
 
 729,692 
 
 1,194,723 
 
 2,060 
 
 2,122 
 
 600,520 
 
 1,056,603 
 
 452,120 
 
 6,920 
 
 19,815,159 
 
 32,522,449 
 
 30,694 
 
 7,785 
 
 415.1.36 
 
 .504,618 
 
 11,644 
 
 2,397 
 
 8,824.987 
 
 8,851,669 
 
 52,859 
 
 57,341 
 
 5,589,822 
 
 5,994,505 
 
 288,657 
 
 227,196 
 
 4,980,906 
 
 5,870,979 
 
 65,518 
 
 231,969 
 
 3,013,415 
 
 3,777,195 
 
 3,393,510 
 
 100,686,701 
 
 44 076,531 
 
 148,.304,921 
 
 35,247 
 
 4,657 
 
 1,246,669 
 
 1,434,176 
 
 3,553,418 
 
 3,047,593 
 
 12,373,804 
 
 19,479,798 
 
 18 
 
 500 
 
 55,157 
 
 63,682 
 
 607,787 
 
 27,484 
 
 1,446,218 
 
 2,150,497 
 
 2,372 
 
 143 
 
 150,438 
 
 156,792 
 
 1 1 ,832 
 
 16,297 
 
 8,015,365 
 
 10,043,155 
 
 112,203 
 
 12,=il9 
 
 2,354,747 
 
 3,135,910 
 
 771,105 
 
 334,125 
 
 3,083,275 
 
 5,851,048 
 
 19,740 
 
 270,.366 
 
 11,227,516 
 
 11,556,012 
 
 
 
 11,674,570 
 
 11,674,570 
 
 224,180 
 
 144,624 
 
 976,208 
 
 1,715,695 
 
 1,293,645 
 
 444,180 
 
 28,154,215 
 
 31,. 396,4 1 7 
 
 2,320,651 
 
 1,611,270 
 
 11,614,663 
 
 17,631,198 
 
 366 
 
 1,753 
 
 40,846 
 
 696,097 
 
 285 
 
 2,155 
 
 2,066,224 
 
 2,187,058 
 
 13,507,177 $107,237,091 $186,983,288 
 
 $331,903,180 
 
 The opening of the Erie canal in 1825, 
 gave the first decided impulse to the city 
 business, and produced a powerful effect 
 upon its prosperity. The impulse was pro- 
 longed under the bank excitement that ex- 
 ploded in 1837. Tlie effect of railroad ex- 
 tension at the West has, in the last twenty- 
 five years, had a still more powerful influence 
 upon its growth. Tiie following table gives 
 the population, imports, exports, and taxable 
 valuation, for a long period : — 
 
 
 Population 
 
 Imports. 
 
 Exports. 
 
 Valuation. 
 
 16 J4, 
 
 2,WI0 
 
 S4,.579 
 
 S10,093 
 
 
 ITiiO, 
 
 10,3-il 
 
 267.130 
 
 35,6.32 
 
 
 17W, 
 
 a3,131 
 
 10,739,250 
 
 2,505,415 
 
 
 IS 10, 
 
 60.489 
 
 20.201,000 
 
 14,045.079 
 
 $25,645,867 
 
 1S2I), 
 
 123,706 
 
 23,029,216 
 
 13,160,918 
 
 69,630,753 
 
 IVill, 
 
 203,007 
 
 30,624,070 
 
 19,097,983 
 
 125,288,518 
 
 ]^4>l, 
 
 312,710 
 
 60,440,7,50 
 
 34,2'i4,nR0 
 
 252,233,515 
 
 Is.Vi, 
 
 515,.547 
 
 111,123,.524 
 
 52,712,7S9 
 
 286,061,816 
 
 Km, 
 
 629,914 
 
 F>4, 770,511 
 
 113.731 ,S38 
 
 486,998,278 
 
 m;<i. 
 
 813,063 
 
 2.33,718,718 
 
 138,036,.550 
 
 577,2.30,056 
 
 1870, 
 
 912,310 
 
 315,200,022 
 
 254,131,205 
 
 965,283,464 
 
 Up to the year 1840, the business of the 
 West depended mostly on the canal, and by 
 
 way of New Orleans. The city held then a 
 kind of monopoly, but, like all monopolies, 
 it cramped the producers. The large ex- 
 penditure at the We^t for bank capital, in 
 the years 1836-37, Caused a great credit 
 demand for goods upon New York, which 
 was generally met. The facilities granted 
 in those years by the American bankers in" 
 London, for the purchase of goods on credit, 
 placed these within the reach of any dealer 
 who could make a fair show ; and the goods 
 obtained on credit required to be sold on 
 the same terms. The rivalry thus produced 
 among those who could command goods, was 
 very great, and the utmost efforts were made 
 to obtain paper in exchange for goods. The 
 banks showed the same eagerness to discount 
 the paper that the merchants did to obtain 
 it, and the mass grew in a rapid ratio, from 
 the small country dealers to city jolibers and 
 importers, and London bankers, until the 
 
183 
 
 LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 
 
 Bank of England, in August, 1836, issued a 
 warning to those houses to curtail their 
 credits. This was the " hand writing on the 
 wall" — settling day had come. The business 
 south and west had then been eagerly sought 
 after by the jobbing-houses, who employed 
 drummers to haunt the New York hotels 
 and beset every new-comer with tempta- 
 tions to bu}'. The drummers of the day had 
 usually no limit placed upon their expenses, 
 which were intended to cover the "atten- 
 tions " shown to the country dealer. These 
 revelled in the dissipations of the town at the 
 apparent expense of their entertainer, and 
 they could do no less than buy of such atten- 
 tive friends, when the bill, whether they dis- 
 covered it or not, would often cover their 
 own and other people's expenses. The 
 mode of business then in vogue, when banks 
 were multiplying so rapidly all over the 
 country, was to take tlie paper of the dealers, 
 payable at their own local bank. It was 
 supposed that the dealer would be sure to 
 keep his credit good at homo. The result 
 showed that the dealer, in order to pay the 
 New York bill, got an aeconnnodation note 
 done at his baidc, which thus became the 
 debtor of the New York collecting bank. 
 By this means, althougli the New York 
 merchant got his money, the west was still 
 in debt to the cast; and this continued as 
 long as capital was sent from the east to the 
 west to start banks. The whole system ex- 
 ploded in ISSV, and the bank capitals were 
 sunk in these credits. From that date there 
 was to be " no more credit," a threat which 
 has often been repeated without being put 
 in practice. The only permanent change 
 seemed to be to require notes payable in New 
 York. Those are given at dates longer or 
 Bliorter, but the system is an improvement 
 on the old mode. With 1840 also began 
 the railroad building, which brought stocks 
 and bonds to Now York for negotiation, and 
 the money being expended west promoted 
 consumption of goods, which caused a greater 
 demand in New York. The exports of prod- 
 uce increased at higher prices, and the 
 sales of these gave tlie producers the means 
 of buying more goods. In 1 S:1S, thirty-one 
 years after the first successful steamboat, ar- 
 rived the first ocean steamer, the Sirius, at 
 New York, marking a new era in foreign 
 trade, since communication with Eumpe 
 was now reduced to lialf the time, a circum- 
 stance which was e'|uivalent to an increase of 
 capital engaged in commerce, because it 
 
 could be turned oftoner. From that date 
 ocean steam navigation rapidly increased. 
 The electric telegraph of Morse began a few 
 years later to exert its influence in facili- 
 tating intercourse, and the express sys- 
 tem was also introduced. It is somewhat 
 singular, that with the breakdown of the old 
 credit system and the adoption of the plan 
 of making notes payable in New York, four 
 important elements, having the highest cen- 
 tralizing tendencies, began to operate. These 
 were, first, ocean navigation ; second, the 
 more extended construction of railroads ; 
 third, the invention and construction of tele- 
 graphs — there are now 125,000 miles of wires, 
 that liave cost over $2,000,000, consolidated 
 in one company, and New York is the centre 
 for the whole : and, fourth, the express system 
 of intercourse. All these, centring in New 
 York, came into active operation at the mo- 
 ment w hen gold was discovered in California, 
 to give them an extraordinary impetus. The 
 express business is peculiarly American, and 
 has grown with a vigor which places it among 
 the most important trading facilities of the 
 country. In the spring of 1839, a year after 
 the arrival of the Sirius at New York, W. 
 F. Ilarnden, then out of employ in Boston, 
 was advised by his friends to get a valiso and 
 take small packages and parcels from his 
 acquaintances in Boston to their correspond- 
 ents in New York, and return with what 
 they had to send, making a small charge for 
 his services. He did so, and discovered that 
 a groat public want was to be supplied. He 
 soon contracted with the railroad to send a 
 car through with his goods, and with busi- 
 ness tact he opened offices, cmploj-ed mes- 
 sengers, pushing the business with American 
 energy. In 1840 an opposition was started 
 b}' Adams. In 1841 new fields were explored 
 liy Ilarnden, who ran an express between 
 Albanv and Boston, and one between Albany 
 and New York. Route after route was then 
 opened to express agents, penetrating further 
 and further, and multiplying their lines in 
 the densely settled portions of the country; 
 not only between cities, but between difi'erent 
 portions of the same city. In 1845, Buffalo 
 was reached by "Wells & Co. In 1849, the 
 gold fever brought California within the 
 scope of express operations, and from San 
 Francisco as a centre, " pony " expresses ran 
 to the diggings with great success, placing 
 the solitary miners of the Sierra Nevada in 
 direct connection with the mint and with Wall 
 street. As these busy agents continued to 
 
NEW YOKK TELEGRAPH EXPRESS GOLD. 
 
 189 
 
 increase, and lessen the difBculty of commu- 
 nication, trade multiplied as a consequence. 
 The telegraph had also penetrated most 
 direct routes between cities, and that instru- 
 ment came in aid of the express, which 
 executed an order transmitted by telccraph. 
 Instead of waiting the slow course of the 
 post for a replay, the telegraph gave an in- 
 stantaneous order for goods that "the express 
 conveyed. Thus, the three months that 
 would once have been consumed in coming 
 from Cincinnati for goods and returnin"'-, was 
 reduced to tliree days. All the cities of the 
 union were brought within similar speaking 
 distance. In 1 850 it was estimated that the 
 expresses travelled twenty thousand miles 
 daily, in discharge of orders, and the service 
 has since doubled. Steam, the telegraph, 
 and the express, had thus greatly facihtated 
 trade, by making the long semi-annual ex- 
 peditions to the large cities, for the pur- 
 chase of goods, unnecessary. Tlie small 
 dealers could now buy frequently in small 
 parcels the goods they found most in demand, 
 instead of buying a six months' stock, and 
 taking the risk of the goods being well se- 
 lected for the market." This als*? brouu'ht 
 with it another change. It liad been the 
 case, that most of the goods sent to America 
 formerly were the surplus stock of the British 
 manufacturers. That is, where patterns liad 
 been got up for the home consumption and 
 the regular trade supplied, there would remain 
 a stock that lial become comparatively dead 
 by age. This dead stock was " good enouijli 
 for the American market," and 'was sent out 
 almost for what it wouhl brini;, and beini,' 
 transported into the interior for six months' 
 sales, became a sort of llobson's choice for 
 the consumers. When, however, frequent 
 arrivals of new goods came to be laid before 
 the customers, they immediately displayed 
 a taste and exercised a choice. Ill-assorted 
 goods would now not sell at all. English 
 refuse became of no value, because American 
 taste w;i3 developing itself with considerable 
 strength. The customer was no loncjer to 
 take what was laid before him; but inorder 
 to sell, the dealer was now to exercise his 
 sagacity as to what would please his taste 
 in selecting it, and his judgment in buying it. 
 The manufacturer of dry goods was obliged 
 to follow in the same diivciion, and the em- 
 ployment of designers became important. It 
 was now that llie saL.'acity and taste of the 
 factory agents were felt to be an indispensa- 
 ble element in the success of a concern. The 
 
 production of a design was promptly followed 
 by the judgment of the public, and manu- 
 facturing became, as it were, one of the fine 
 arts. 
 
 The joint operation of these new acrencios 
 manifested itself in 1850, when the west had 
 become enriched with the large sales it had 
 made of its produce during the famine years, 
 and the railroads and canals, then in opera- 
 tion, had profited largely by the higli froio-hts 
 and tolls paid by produce on its way to 
 market. The gold of California was now in 
 its turn adding a new stinmhis to the busi- 
 ness of the city. In 1852 the Miehi^-an 
 roads had opened tlirough to Cliicao-o, and 
 New York was now, by rail, within'thirty- 
 six hours of that eit}-. "The projection and 
 construction of railroads went on rapidly, 
 constantly adding to the business of New 
 York — the common centre, whence the 
 means to build were drawn, and to which 
 these means returned in the pureliase of 
 goods. The Crystal Palace, in 1853, drew 
 great numbers of persons to the city, and 
 gave a start to retail trade, which liad an 
 important eftect upon the value of real 
 estate and the location of business. In the 
 above table we find that the imports into 
 the city from abroad rose fifty per cent, 
 in the fiva years to 1855, and the total 
 valuation two hundred millions. This valu- 
 ation followed the changed location of busi- 
 ness. In the speculative times of 1830-7, 
 the old Pearl .street house, in Hanover square, 
 was the headcjuarters of country dealers, and 
 that squ.arc the centre of tlie dry goods trade, 
 around which all others agglomerated. The 
 great fire of December, 1835, by which the 
 lower part of the city and a value of §18, 000,- 
 000 was destroyed, broke up the location, 
 which, however, was speedily rebuilt, and, with 
 the rebuilding, the Merchants' Exchan^•e was 
 enlarged and reconstructed at an expense of 
 $1,800,000. The usual fate overtook occu- 
 piers in the inordinate demands of landlords, 
 and the leading firms pushed across Wall 
 street and made Pine and Cedar streets the 
 great centre. Gradually firm after firm ven- 
 tiired upon Broadway, which, in 1845, was 
 visited by a fire that caused the rebuilding of 
 the lower portion, no longer for dwellini-s, 
 but f>r substantial stores." One firm went 
 up to the corner of Rector street, one-quarter 
 of a mile from the Battery, and took the site, 
 long vacant, of the old Grace church, at a 
 I lease. "Too high up," said conservatism, 
 as the crowd rushed by, and the great retail 
 
190 
 
 LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 
 
 firm of Stewart & Co. took the old Wash- 
 ington hotel at the corner of Chambers, .and 
 occupied the block with a marble store which 
 then had no equal in any city. Here import- 
 ing and jobbing are carried on to the extent 
 ot $jO,OOU,OOa by one who, by his energy 
 and enterprise, has increased a capital of a 
 few hundreds to millions, and now employs 
 twelve hundred and iifty clerks and others. 
 There were handsome stores before this was 
 built, but this commenced the era of expen- 
 sive structures. The demands of luxury 
 have led to the erection, up town, of elegant 
 trade palaces of iron, marble, and freestone, 
 for the leading firms in the dry goods, jew- 
 elry, clothing, porcelain, and other branches 
 of trade ; while the wholesale dealers, invad- 
 ing the old college ground, have covered it 
 with stores of great size and beauty. The 
 centre of business which, thirty years since, 
 was within a fourth of a mile of the Battery, 
 is now two and a half miles distant, and the 
 value of real estate has followed like a 
 " ground swell," reaching incredible rates. 
 A marble store on Broadway was rented in 
 18G0 for $J0,000 per annum, and in 18()7 
 for $75,000. A lot on Broadway, near 
 Broome, sold in I8J9 at |)rivate sale for 
 $llO,Oi>0; it had been bought at auction in 
 1852 for $i5,(i0U. An elderly gentleman 
 present remarked, " This lot was part of 
 the old Colonel Bayard farm, and was given 
 by the colonel to his barber for a hair-dress- 
 ing bill. I have seen it sold four times, and 
 each time people decided the buyer crazy to 
 give such a price." The Society Liljrary 
 lot, corner of Leonard and Broadway, sold 
 with the budding in 1849 for $G0,0( 10 ; after 
 the costly stores erected on it were burned in 
 18G7, it was sold for S050,000, and a build- 
 ing costing about $1,IOO,OOU erected on it. 
 The " Central I'ark," to cover 843 acres, 
 \\as projected, and has since been prosecuted, 
 at a cost of over $12,1100,000, having em- 
 ployed in the fourteen years, over 50,0u0 
 men. 
 
 The city has spread toward the upper 
 wards through the agency of railroads, which 
 have enabled workmen and merchants to live 
 further from their [ilaces of occupation. The 
 importance of consuming as little time as 
 ])ossible iu co ning from and going to occu- 
 ])ation, made it requisite formerly, that per- 
 sons should live near iheir business. The 
 old cities of Europe are thus built with nar- 
 row streets and ^ery high houses, to accom- 
 
 modate many in a little space. Modern 
 cities are built on a broader scale. Omni- 
 busses first came into play to give a greater 
 breadth to the dwellings of the people, and 
 horse-railroads have still further expanded 
 the area. Manhattan island forming a point 
 at the Battery, runs northerly between the 
 North and East rivers. From the park the 
 city spreads in a fan-like form east and west, 
 and from that point radiate twelve railroads, 
 including the Harlem, which runs by the 
 Fourth avenue to Albany. The eleven other 
 roads run on as many routes, and carry their 
 passengers from three to eight miles, return- 
 ing with them to a common centre every 
 morning to business. These eleven railroads 
 cost about $12,500,000. In 1869 they 
 transported about 131,000,000 passengers. 
 There are in New York city thirteen other 
 raih'oads not having their terminus at the 
 Park, which cost somewhat more than the 
 eleven, and carry altogether nearly as many 
 passengers. In Brooklyn there are thirty 
 horse-railioads which have cost nearly $25,- 
 000,000, and carry about 150,000,000 pas- 
 sengers. The telegraph also comes to play 
 an important part in the city business. Many 
 large firms whose oliiccs are in the lower 
 part of the city, and warehouses and manu-. 
 fiictories in the upper part, connect the two 
 by telegraph, to transmit orders and for in- 
 formation. All the police stations connect 
 by telegraph to give alarms of robbery, and 
 fire alarms are also conveyed by the same 
 means. The ''time ball " also operates by 
 telegraph. On the top of the Custom House, 
 sixty feet high, is a mast on which slides a 
 black ball some twenty feet in diameter. 
 This can be seen from any )iart of the 
 bay. It is hoisted to the top of the pole, 
 and is so arranged that the moment the 
 sun reaches the zenith, by observation, at 
 Albany, it is released by electricity and fiills, 
 marking twelve o'clock, by which every 
 ship master in the port may set his chrono- 
 meter. 
 
 All the railroads, continually running 
 night and day, aided by six stage routes, 
 bring the business and working population 
 to their occupations, and back at night ; yet 
 all these routes are insufficient to transport 
 the hundreds of thousands who need convey- 
 ance, within a reasonable time, and new 
 routes, elevated and viaduct, have been prO' 
 jected, with cars drawn by steam power, to 
 facilitate rapid transit. 
 
IMERIUK Oi A CAUPEI HULSE 
 
 INTERIOR OF A DRV UUUUS KUCSE. 
 
NEW YORK TELEGRAPH EXrRESS GOLD. 
 
 191 
 
 Tlie aggregate of passengers conveyed 
 each year by tlie railroads and stages in New 
 York and Brooklyn, is about ten times the 
 population of the United States ; the greater 
 number going to and coming from their busi- 
 ness by these conveyances ever}' working 
 day. This facility of transit allows business 
 men to concentrate tiieir stores and ware- 
 houses around certain points, thus affording 
 better opportunities (or purchasers from dis- 
 tant cities and villages to purchase their 
 stocks without spending much time in going 
 from one warehouse to another to select the 
 great variety of goods which go to make up 
 a general assortment. The importers, job- 
 bers, and large dealers reside, of course, at a 
 distance from their warehouses, but they are 
 brought promptly and readily to them by 
 cars, stages, or steamers. Yet these centres 
 of trade change materially every four or 
 five years. The jobbiiig and importing trade 
 in all articles pertaining to a dry goods stock, 
 are none of thim below the Park, and are 
 rapidly concentrating above Canal street, 
 while the retailers of the first class are erect- 
 ing their magnificent stores in the neighbor- 
 hood of Union Park. Ten or twelve years 
 ago Lord & Taylor's fine store on the corner 
 of Grand street and Broadway, was regarded 
 as very far uptown tor a retail establish- 
 ment. That, as well as Arnold & Consta- 
 ble's on Canal street, and Stewart's on the 
 corner of Bro idway and Chambers street, 
 have now been for some time wholesale 
 stores exclusively. The change is a very 
 great one from the time when even large 
 dealers lived in the dwelling houses over 
 their stores and boarded their clerks. 
 
 Perhaps the greatest difference which 
 purchasers who come to the New York mar- 
 ket aie called to observe, is in the division 
 of the goods. Formerly a dry goods jobber 
 kept a tuU assortment of every thing in his 
 line, and it requiretl no little tact and exer- 
 cise of memory to keep each line full. Now, 
 one hou>e confines it-elf to woolens, another 
 to cottons, another to silk-, and yet another 
 to fancy articles ; and even these are sub- 
 divided, as in woolens one will keep tailors' 
 goods, another dress goods and women's 
 wear ; in cottons, one confines himself to 
 prints, another to the plain goods ; in silks, 
 we have establishments tor piece goods, and 
 others for ribbons and smaller articles. The 
 tendency is to a still more minute division, 
 and thus we have a dealer in hosiery, a 
 
 dealer in lace, a dealer in perfumery, a dealer 
 in pocket handkerchiefs, a dealer in shawls, 
 and one house keeps nothing Imt suspenders ! 
 Thirty years since the manufacture of cloth- 
 ing became a separate business, and it has 
 since subdivided into many branches. There 
 are now establishments exclusively for the 
 sale of spool cotton, and others for braids 
 and bindings, and others still for buttons, for 
 fringes, and for Berlin wool. We are not 
 prepared to say that the division of goods 
 here noticed may not be a positive conveni- 
 ence, although it certainly increases the la- 
 bor of the purchaser. It has led to greater 
 method in the purchase of goods, and buyers 
 are now provided with catalogues of goods in 
 each department, so arranged as to make 
 purchasing much easier. Buyers now make 
 a corresponding <livision also of their time, 
 and one day is set apart for woolens, another 
 for silks, and so on through the whole cata- 
 logue. Could some staid customer of the 
 last century, awaking from a Rip Van Win- 
 kle sleep, be set down at this day in some of 
 our thronged thoroughfares, he would get 
 sorely jostled and foot-weary before he liad 
 made a black cross against all the articles 
 upon his memorandum. 
 
 The sujjplies of goods for the country 
 dealers are derived from various sources ; 
 small wares from city manufacturers ; do- 
 mestics from the mills or agents ; foreign 
 goods from importers or agents of foreign 
 manufacturers. The local manufactures are 
 generally purchased by the jobbers to make 
 good their assortments, as is also the case 
 with hardware, and most articles of domestic 
 manufacture, except the productions of the 
 large mills, which have agents in the city for 
 their special sale. 
 
 It was formerly the custom for all parties, 
 manufacturers, importers, jobbers, and houses 
 jobl)ing in the small way, as well as retailers, 
 to give long credits, six, eight, and twelve 
 months, and the jobbers often sold for open 
 notes, which were frequently renewed wholly 
 or in part when they came due. The panic 
 of 1857, and the hard times of 1861, put an 
 end to most of this. Four months is now 
 generally the longest limit, and many of the 
 best houses sell only on thirty or sixty days 
 time, or for cash only. Custom is now 
 sought in the country by means of agents, 
 instead of by the old system of drummers. 
 Sellers depend largely upon the mercantile 
 agencies for information in relation to the 
 
192 
 
 LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TKADE. 
 
 liability of the buyer. These agencies have 
 r; mifications in every town of the country, 
 but their usefulness is not what was at one 
 time expected from them. The grocers 
 who sell sugar, etc., do so generally at from 
 ten to sixty days, and get their money before 
 tlu! dry goods people, who also come after 
 the hardware and earthenware deaif rs. The 
 supply of capital in the city, under tliese 
 circumstances, brings to it the largest assort- 
 ment of goods, and of course it is llie best 
 point at which to buy, the more so that at 
 times there is an over supply of goods, whidf 
 being wori<ed off at auction, reahzes a loss 
 sometiine-i of 25 to 30 per cent, to the im- 
 porler and ibreign owner, and of course to 
 the advantage of the country buyer. Tlie 
 
 general attractions offered to buyers make it 
 to the advantage of sellers elsewhere to send 
 their merchandise to New York to meet the 
 purchasers. Boston made, recently, an at- 
 tempt to break up this, by establishing .sales 
 of her manufactures there, instead of sending 
 them to New York. The force of centrali- 
 zation is, however, difficult to overcome, and 
 the imports at New York show an increas- 
 ing share of the arrivals into the whole 
 country. Thus, in 1870, New York im- 
 ported $315,200,022 out of an aggregate of 
 $402,377,587 ; in 1840, $00,0^0 000 out of 
 an aggregate of $121,000,000. The propor- 
 tionate imports at the Atlantic ports are as 
 follows : — 
 
 IMl-OItTS OF CEKT.VIN GOODS INTO TUE LEADING 
 
 THE u 
 Pliiladelpliia, 
 
 GoUl Bullion 
 
 *' coin 
 
 Silver bullion 
 
 " coin 
 
 Coffee 
 
 Tea 
 
 Linseed 
 
 Gnano 
 
 Wool , raw and fleece . . 
 
 Wo<j1, >hoddy, 
 
 AVatc-lies 
 
 Co il, Mtuminous 
 
 Woolens 
 
 Cotton hose, 
 
 *' floods 
 
 Steel, liar and inj;ot. . . 
 
 Silks 
 
 Linen 
 
 Gloves 
 
 Window glass 
 
 Gunny liags and cloth. 
 Iron, l>ar 
 
 " I'i^; 
 
 " railroad 
 
 Cutlery and tiles 
 
 Jute 
 
 Leather 
 
 Hides 
 
 Molasses 
 
 Sugar 
 
 Other articles 
 
 Boston. 
 
 S1.3,Oi6 
 
 20,876 
 
 l,-)02 
 
 5, .581 
 
 1,210,044 
 
 848.;369 
 
 1,140,0'Jl 
 
 2,303,687 
 
 ATLANTIC PORTS, AND ALSO THE TOTAL IMrORTS INTO 
 NION IN 1870. 
 
 Baltimore. New Orleans, 
 
 117,6.H 
 
 222,848 
 
 4,11.-!,1I7 
 
 31,547 
 
 775,6.-)l 
 
 5 7 2, .338 
 
 882,661 
 
 1,704,048 
 
 229,.580 
 
 ^32,938 
 
 133,288 
 
 1, 5.^)5,501 
 
 326,835 
 
 316,742 
 
 114,208 
 
 157,635 
 
 19.173 
 
 3,131,711 
 
 1,912,447 
 
 7,731,049 
 
 1,867,308 
 
 17,586 
 
 193,761 
 106 
 
 35,342 
 33,669 
 
 332 
 
 40,839 
 
 21,648 
 
 232,241 
 
 330 
 
 8,413 
 
 15,434 
 
 214,439 
 
 221,709 
 
 113,788 
 
 15,671 
 
 273 
 
 8,534 
 
 2,981,538 
 
 5,556,549 
 
 523,154 
 
 6,409,818 
 882 
 
 618,422 
 25,763 
 
 12,311 
 
 271,123 
 
 100,411 
 73,297 
 41,967 
 
 108,045 
 61,868 
 19,938 
 14,038 
 2,064 
 7,155 
 74,083 
 
 292,623 
 26,169 
 
 17,083 
 
 306,877 
 
 782,566 
 
 7,795,164 
 
 301,221 
 
 84,446 
 
 500 
 
 531,337 
 
 2,283,647 
 
 6,168 
 
 5,003 
 
 13,156 
 
 1,164 
 
 290,846 
 
 61,690 
 
 1,354,439 
 
 15 233 
 
 129,306 
 
 340,097 
 
 22,881 
 
 34,002 
 
 2,538 
 
 73,777 
 
 214,868 
 
 2,099,567 
 
 144,579 
 
 4,078 
 
 132,251 
 
 1,721 
 
 263,090 
 
 1,787,0.30 
 
 499,929 
 
 New York. Tot 
 
 92,159 
 
 9,514,749 
 
 40,636 
 
 3,293,649 
 
 12,578.223 
 
 12,206,109 
 
 2,886,860 
 
 734,726 
 
 3,497,254 
 
 53,412 
 
 2,8.30,692 
 
 276,230 
 
 28,569,889 
 
 4,388,551 
 
 15,849,392 
 
 1,322,492 
 
 22,168,766 
 
 14,316.599 
 
 3,059,987 
 
 1,575,949 
 
 133,961 
 
 855,099 
 
 874,267 
 
 4,858.971 
 
 1,824,016 
 
 1,537,422 
 
 5,458,624 
 
 9,999,971 
 
 4,635,966 
 
 30,301,742 
 
 9,041,854 
 
 1 into Union. 
 
 6^0,760 
 
 11,376.190 
 
 162.432 
 
 14.199,797 
 
 24,234,879 
 
 13,863.273 
 
 4,141,304 
 
 1,415,519 
 
 6,743,350 
 
 55,609 
 
 3,021,875 
 
 1,110316 
 
 34,435,059 
 
 4,734,475 
 
 18,645,578 
 
 2,342,408 
 
 23,904,04,8 
 
 16.859,124 
 
 3,405,9li6 
 
 2,322,504 
 
 291,218 
 
 3,156,236 
 
 2,509,280 
 
 9,669,571 
 
 2,248,819 
 
 1,799,928 
 
 5,728,028 
 
 14,402,339 
 
 12,888,250 
 
 56,939,034 
 
 15,583,831 
 
 Total $31,731, 152S10,235,356S17,195,890 $10,367,943 $208,778,188 $311,871,006 
 
 The aggregate imports at these five ports 
 of these items are $278,308,529, which 
 leaves $33,562,477 of these goods as the 
 
 imports of all the other ports. The im- 
 ports of coffee at New Orleans from Bra- 
 zil, to go up the river, are large ; and at 
 
KEW YORK TELEGRAPH EXPRESS GOLD. 
 
 193 
 
 Boston, coffee and hides, from the same 
 source, figure high. But botli Baltimore 
 and Phihidelpliia receive much ooli'ce direct ; 
 in fact, that is the largest item of import at 
 those two cities. Boston imports many ma- 
 terials for her manufocture — liiifced, wool, 
 jute, liides, etc. Philadelphia also imports 
 some of these. The great mass of the 
 goods, for the con-umption of the interior, 
 passes into the port of New York. It is to be 
 borne in mind, however, that many of the 
 importations at New York are really foi 
 Philadelphia, Albany, and other cities, even 
 western ones. They are entered at the 
 custom-house by a broker, who pays the duty 
 and forwards them by express to their desti- 
 nation, for a small commission. The express, 
 the rails, and the telegraph, facilitate such 
 operations. 
 
 The gold and silver imported at New York 
 are from various sources, but in the last few- 
 years have consisted mostly of doubloons and 
 Spanish gold from Europe, to re-export to 
 Havana for the purchase of the sugar crop. 
 In 1857, that movement was very large, early 
 in the year, to the island, and subsequently, 
 when the stock of sugar accumulated very 
 largely in New York, the gold came back from 
 Havana to prevent it from being sacrificed. 
 The bulk of the gold that forms the amount 
 exported, is direct from California, and has 
 been annually since the discover}-, in sums 
 of nearly fifty millions. 
 
 The gold extracted from the earth by the 
 miners of California has a considerable degree 
 of puritv, and before refining establishments 
 were set up in the state, sold at from $16 to 
 ^•20 per ounce. Much was used as a currency. 
 It was carried in little leather pouches, and 
 weighed out to shopmen in exchange for 
 goods. A large portion of it was carried to 
 New York, in the pockets of home-bound 
 adventurers, and sold in New York at such 
 rates as were possible. The buyers mostly 
 had it sent to Philadelphia, by express, at an 
 expense of 3-8 per cent. It was then assayed 
 and coined at the public mint, and the pro- 
 ceeds returned to the owner. This expensive 
 and round-about process led to the establish- 
 ment of a mint in San Francisco and an assay 
 office in New York, where the miners them- 
 selves could deposit the dust and get the full 
 value in return. When the dust is deposited, 
 a certificate of weight is given and the gold 
 in bars returned. There are a number of 
 private assaying houses in San Francisco, 
 where the dust is cast into bars of large size. 
 12 * 
 
 Most of these are connected with banking 
 houses, and the bars are the basis of ex- 
 change. The express companies deal in this 
 gold. The miner now having a lot of dust, 
 sells it to an express agent, or sends it down 
 to a banker in San Francisco, who has it 
 assayed and cast into bars. The value is 
 credited to the depositor, less the commis- 
 sions. The bars are mostly shipped to New 
 York, and the bankers draw bills against 
 them in favor of those who have remittances 
 to make to the bank. The competition 
 among the bankers reduces the rate at which 
 these bills can be sold to a point that leaves 
 apparently no profit, and it is charged in 
 some cases that they draw at a loss, in the 
 view of monopolizing the business. The re- 
 fining leaves a small profit. The cost of 
 shipping the gold to New York may be thus 
 stated: freight, etc.. Si 57; state stamp on 
 bill, 20 cents; insurance, $1 50 — making 
 ^3 2 7 on $100. But the insurer gets from 
 the Mutual companies scrip, worth on an 
 average 35 cts., which reduces the cost to 
 $2 92. The bars sometimes command a 
 higher price in New York than in San Fran- 
 cisco. Thus, a bar of 100 ounces, 880 fine, 
 is at this moment worth par in San Fran- 
 cisco, and 900 fine it is worth 87^ cts. pre- 
 mium in New York. This price has reference 
 to the gold only of the bar. There is some 
 silver in each. Thus, in the bar 880 fine 
 there is 88 ounces of gold, \\\ of silver, and 
 1-2 01. copper. In the other, 90 oz. gold, 9 
 1-2 silver, and a half copper. This makes 
 the gold worth 1 per cent, more in New York 
 than in San Francisco, and reduces the cost 
 of tlij bill to §1 92 per cent. It is evident 
 that he who sells his bills at 2 per cent, 
 makes but 8-10 of 1 per cent, or, including 
 other items, a small loss. If the house feels 
 strong enough to insure itself, it saves 
 the insurance ; but this must be more or less 
 a risk to those who take the bills. Thus 
 the operation is one of mere cost of ship- 
 ment of the gold ; but the control of so 
 much gold on paper issued is an object with 
 large firms. The higher value of gold at 
 New York arises from the fact that it is the 
 financial centre of the Union. The ex- 
 changes of the country with Europe and 
 with the interior of the states turn there. 
 The south ships its cotton, and tobacco, and 
 rice ; the west its produce ; and the At- 
 lantic states their manufactures. These, as 
 we have seen, give an aggregate value of over 
 $300,000,000 sent abroad "in a year. The 
 
194 
 
 LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 
 
 shippers of these goods draw bills against 
 them, and oft'cr tlicm for sale. The market 
 of sale nmst be ^vherc the greatest demand 
 for them for remittance exists. New York 
 imports two-thirds of all the goods received 
 into the country, consequently tlie demand 
 is there the greatest for the bills, and they are 
 sent there for sale. It happens that tlie great 
 majority of bill-drawers are unknown to the 
 buyers, hence there is hesitation in taking 
 their bills. To obviate this, a number of large 
 banking-houses connected abroad, and having 
 great capital, buy the bills that have " bills 
 lading" attached, and the goods are sent to 
 their correspondents abroad. In the seasons 
 of the year when shipments are most active, 
 these bills arc plenty and low. They are 
 then purchased and endorsed, and sold with 
 the endorsement at a higher rate when the 
 season advances and the cotton-bills run 
 short. If the demand is active, and the rate 
 of money higher here than abroad, the bank- 
 ers draw on their own resources, and lend 
 them the proceeds of the bills they sell on 
 stocks or other securities. They are also the 
 buyers of the gold bars as they arrive from 
 California, and pay such rates as the demand 
 for exchange, or the rate of money, or the 
 price of gold on the continent, present or 
 prospective, will warrant. A demand for 
 .silver to go to Asia, causes a demand for gold 
 with which to buy it on the continent, and 
 this demand draws upon New York, and in- 
 directly upon the whole country. It is ob- 
 vious that the bill business is thus mostly in 
 the hands of large bankers. This grows out 
 of the fact that there is abroad no market 
 for bills on New York. Thus, the New York 
 importer of goods, in order to pay for them, 
 buys a bill on ships' specie, instead of order- 
 ing his creditor abroad to draw upon him, 
 which would be done if a bill on New York 
 were saleable in the London market. It is 
 understood, that when such amounts of bills 
 from the south and elsewhere arc sent to 
 New York for sale, the proceeds of those 
 sales form a large fund due by New York to 
 those sections. These funds are deposited 
 in the New York banks, and by them cm- 
 ployed in loans upon stocks, or in such other 
 ways as will pay an interest. Thus the 
 whole country contributes to the supplj- of 
 capital at that comnmn centre. The New 
 York banks, some iiftoen years since, in 
 order to encourage that centralization, allow- 
 ed interest of 4 per cent, on the funds so 
 •deposited. This caused a greater sum to be 
 
 so employed, and imposed on the banks the 
 necessity of lending it, in order to make a 
 profit. The amount of funds lying in New 
 York varies from ^50,000,000 'to $90,000, 
 000, according to the season of the year. The 
 banks in all sections of the country that have 
 such funds in New York do not draw against 
 it directly in favor of those who want to re- 
 mit to New York, but they use the funds to 
 buy up their own or other paper cheap. 
 The effect is to swell the supply of funds in 
 New York, and at times foster speculation 
 there. 
 
 The funds that accumulate in New York, 
 make it also the mart for stock operations ; 
 and these are very large, as well for regular 
 investments, as for merely gambling opera- 
 tions. 
 
 With the creation of any commodity 
 whatever, there springs up almost simul- 
 taneously a class of persons to deal in it, and 
 to appropriate more or less capital to its 
 prosecution. Tliis capital is most generally 
 applied to the purchasing of it when it is 
 thought to be cheap, in order to hold it un- 
 til it can be disposed of to better advantage, 
 or in advancing money to the needy seller. 
 The persons so engaged, by devoting tlieir 
 time and attention to the subject of their 
 traffic, reduce it to science, and soon deter- 
 mine and classify the kinds and qualities 
 adapted to the markets and wants of the 
 public. The dealing in stocks is compara- 
 tively of modern origin, and commenced with 
 the credit system of the European govern- 
 ments, at the close of the seventeenth cen- 
 tury, when William of Orange avoided the 
 dangers that beset the throne of the Stuarts, 
 by borrowing money instead of extorting it 
 by illegal taxation like Charles I., or steal- 
 ing it like Charles II. The moment that 
 government stocks — or certificates of debt 
 issued to the government creditors — made 
 their appearance, they became subjects of 
 traffic, and with the certificates of stock in 
 corporate companies, formed the material for 
 speculation, and the excjjange markets, 
 where the surplus wealth of communities 
 seek investment, became the theatre for 
 operations in securities. The American 
 colonics had no stock debts or corporate 
 companies, since little surplus capital existed 
 for such investments. The paper money 
 that they issued, however, alforded by its 
 fluctuation many opportunities of jobbing at 
 the expense of the public. AVhen the revo- 
 lutionary war broke out, the continental 
 
NEW VORK TELEGRAPH EXPRESS GOLD. 
 
 190 
 
 iiioue\- of tlie foJcral ifovernment gave a 
 laro-er field fnr these operations, wlucli were 
 b;ised mostly on tlio rapid depreciation of 
 their vahie. Tluis, a person wouhl borrow a 
 sum, returnable in the same description in a 
 fixed time. Its value in that time having 
 fallen, he could return it at a profit. Sup- 
 posing the money to be par, a person would 
 pledge a bag of $1,000 for paper ; a fall of 
 eight or ten per cent, in sixty days wou'ld 
 enable him to redeem life dollars v>ith $100 
 profit. In the time of the revolution, a 
 stage driver, having a talent that wa}', made 
 money in the tratfic, and subsequently be- 
 came the head of the largest bank and stock 
 house of Ills time in New York, ending a 
 long and respected life by suicide. Tins 
 paper soon perished, and was succeeded by 
 the government stock, representing tlie pub- 
 lic debt. This was soon accompanied by 
 United States and other bank stock, insu- 
 rance, canal, mining, railroad, etc., to an 
 immense amount. Up to 1S25 the majority 
 of the stocks were banks and insurance, but 
 there was no regular stock market. There 
 were brokers who bought and sold stocks, 
 but there was no concentration of operations. 
 In that year the legislature of New York 
 authorized the New York stock board, which 
 has since continued to be the stock market. 
 "Within the last twenty years, boards of bro- 
 kers havi! been started in most of our large 
 cities. Their operations are, however, to 
 a very great extent, based upon those of 
 New York, with which they communicate b}- 
 telegraph. The board of brokers sits with 
 closed doors from 10 1-2 A. M.^to 12 M. ; 
 an irregular session is held about 2 1-2 P. M. 
 There is a president, a treasurer, and a 
 secretary ; the latter keeps a list of all the 
 stocks dealt in in the market ; the members 
 are admitted by ballot after notice of nomi- 
 nation by one of the board. He must have 
 been at least a j-ear a broker, and on his 
 admission pays a fee of 8450. ^Vhen the 
 members are assembled, the president pro- 
 ceeds to call the list, and as each stock is 
 named in succession, those who have orders 
 to buy or sell make their offers, and the 
 transactions are recorded, when they become 
 binding upon the members. If any of these 
 defaults he loses his seat until he can ])ay or 
 arrange the claim. The theorj' of the board 
 is that it is the reservoir where all stocks 
 held b}- the public are brought for sale, and 
 where all buyers come, through brokers, to 
 purchase. The number of brokers is some 
 
 850, and the commission charged is a quar- 
 ter of one per cent., that is to say $25 on 
 §10,000. The board requires each member 
 to charge not less than a quarter, but as 
 most of them sell again for their customers for 
 nothing, the charge is practically one-eighth. 
 The quantities of stocks to be dealt in 
 have rapidly increased of late years. A 
 late report of the Secretary of the Treasury 
 gives an approximation of the amount of 
 stocks now in the country ; to that return 
 we have prefixed the amount of the same at 
 a previous date : — 
 
 1840. 1871. 
 
 Tnitod Stntes stocks and bonds. $25,000,(100 §1,9.3.5,000,000 
 
 State stocks 174,906,897 425,1.32.425 
 
 113 dtifs'& towns' stk'a & b'ds. 13,107,000 312,000.0110 
 
 3.50 counties' stoi-ks and bonds.. 1,600,000 125,000.n()o 
 
 1715 national bank stocks 290,772,091 4.3li,478,.3n 
 
 State Banks 92,000 000 
 
 150 insurance stocks 40,101,000 100,000,000 
 
 liailroad stocks 45,102,208 1.100,000,000 
 
 " bonds 40.897.792 1,220.000,000 
 
 15 canal and naTii;.atioa stocks.. 31,219,911 48.000.1(00 
 
 " " lionds.. 19,'207.1IU 40,4Ofl,0ll0O 
 
 45 mining and other co's stocks, . 10,1(11.201 18.t.O00.('00 
 
 " " bonds.. 1,900,000 7,600,000 
 
 8692,915,301 86,032,810,736 
 
 This vast increase of stocks is manipulated 
 mostly upon the New York stock board, ami 
 the stocks are to a considerable exter.t 
 caused to float by the sums sent to brokers 
 by their correspondents in the country and 
 neighboring cities, with which to " operate." 
 The speculative transactions far exceed those 
 of other kinds. The actual investments of 
 capital are not large at the board. Those who 
 take stocks for income do so of the issuers 
 when tlie proposals are put out, and they 
 hold them like the United States and state 
 stocks, which rarely come on tlie stock ex- 
 change. The mass of the transactions then 
 are of non-dividend paying stocks, that are 
 the foot-ball of speculation, and so pay the 
 operators profits. The brokers are mostly 
 cliques of operators, who, when the market 
 is dull and prices are low, combine, as "bulls," 
 to purchase, producing a rapid rise, in the 
 hope, seldom disappointed, that the spec- 
 ulative community will be tempted by that 
 rise to come in and buy ; as they do so the 
 brokers unload themselves upon the buyers, 
 and then become " bears," combining to de- 
 press the market, and to com]iel a fall at least 
 equal to the rise, skinning the outsiders in 
 the process. The speculators generally buy 
 on time, that is, to pay for the stock at their 
 option, any day within thirty or sixty, as the 
 case may be. In this w.ay the buyer pajs 
 interest on the purchases. He may also sell 
 to deliver at any day he pleases within a 
 specified time, or " seller's option," or to 
 
190 
 
 LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 
 
 deliver at the " buj-er's option ;" lie may 
 borrow stock and sell it in the hope of buy- 
 ing it back cheaper on delivery ; he may 
 buy a privilege to deliver a stock at a certain 
 price at a specified time, or not, as it suits 
 Lim ; or he may sell or buy a privilege of 
 taking and paying for a stock or n?t as it 
 suits him ; he may buy ca*h stock and sell 
 on time. To produce a fall, cliques will sell 
 for cash all the stock they have or can bor- 
 row, and then oft'cr time contracts without 
 limit, until other holders are frightened and 
 sell. Confederates keeping up a clamor to 
 alarm the public at such times, all ofi'ers to 
 buy are smothered, and orders to purchase 
 are suppressed. On the other liand, a com- 
 bination for a rise is accompanied by the 
 most astonishing prophecies of a " good 
 time." Considerable quantities are bought on 
 time, the sellers hoping to get them cheaper. 
 Meanwhile the cash stock is bought up and 
 pledged for more money to repeat the opera- 
 tion ; the demand for the stock bought on 
 time runs up the rate, and the public are 
 expected to come in with sufficient strength 
 to let the clique all sell out at a profit, when 
 they will be ready for a bear operation. 
 There are numberless modes of varying and 
 combining speculative operations, which 
 would fill a volume. All those time operations 
 were illegal until 1859, when they were all 
 legalized, and a stock debt may now be col- 
 lected like any other. 
 
 The amount of the transactions is immense. 
 In 1840, the aggregate of sales for themonth 
 of June was $.3,684,460 ; of this one-half was 
 bank stock and one-half Delaware and Hud- 
 son canal. In June, 1857, previous to the 
 panic, the sales reached #250,000,000, mostly 
 railroad .'■tocks. In 1871 the sales for May 
 were considerably over $600,000,000. lii 
 a speculative year the stock transactions 
 will run twenty-eight or thirry-ciglit thou- 
 sand millions of dollars. Those trans- 
 actions require a great deal of money to con- 
 duct them, and those funds come to New 
 York to a considerable extent from neigh- 
 boring cities, as well as from the west. They 
 also employ a large portion of the funds of 
 the banks put out " at call," and also the 
 proceeds of bills sold by large exchange 
 Louses. Thus we may suppose a liouse soils 
 on the departure of a steam-packet $500,- 
 000 of sterling bills. This money is paid 
 into bank, and is loaned out on stock secu- 
 rities at 7 per cent, on call, until, by a suc- 
 ceeding packet, it may be called in and re- 
 
 mitted in gold to Europe. This operation, 
 on a large scale, will induce the banks to 
 call in their loans to protect their specie, 
 and the value of money will rise in the 
 market. The rule in stock speculation is 
 loss, and the experience of the most fortu- 
 nate dealers is that the interest and com- 
 missions absorb the whole average profits. 
 The funds sent to New York, therefore, for 
 stock-dealing, only contribute to the central 
 profits. • 
 
 If we were to throw into a tabular form 
 the new agencies of business centring in New 
 York, we should have results as follows: — 
 
 Coat. 
 
 Ocean n.ivis.ition, 1.^ lines, 1.3.') ships, S9G,0(lO,n00 
 
 Ti'lo<:r:i|ihs. 60,000 miles, 44,06.3,000 
 
 Kxjircss companies... 112,000 " 4."),000,0ni) 
 
 Riiilronds 30,000 " 1,128,00(1,000 
 
 City railroads 55 •' 23,000.000 
 
 Caiials 59,(100,000 
 
 $1,395,063,000 
 
 The number of strangers that are drawn 
 to the city in a year by ocean steamers is 
 nearly 300,000, and they fill the hotels that 
 have of late taken such s()lendi(l proportions, 
 and have been carried up to Thirty-first street 
 and Broadway, a distance of three and a half 
 miles from the old business centre. The 
 march of hotels up-town has been steady. 
 The Astor House was, in 1833, the up-town 
 house. From the Astor House to Chambers 
 street was a long remove, in 1840. In 1852 
 the St. Nicholas advanced a mile to Spring 
 street, and became not only the up-town, but 
 the "upper-crust" of all hotels. In 1854, 
 Niblo's Garden, on I'rincc street, was occu- 
 pied by the Metropolitan; and, soon fol- 
 lowing, the Everett House, taking ground a 
 mile higher, opened on Sixteenth street ; and 
 in 1859, superior in distance, size, majinifi- 
 eenee. and expense, the Fif.h Avenue Hotel 
 opened on 2'id street. The Southern, the 
 Grand Central, the IIoflTman, the St. James, 
 and a score of others have since been ailded, 
 besides the family hotel.s, like the New York, 
 St. Denis, Clarendon, St. Germain, Sping'er, 
 Sturtevant, Prescott, etc. Extravagance 
 is only an allurement. Indeed, the hotel- 
 keepers seem to have followed the advice of 
 Boyden, when he first gave popularity to 
 the Astor. His cracker-baker complained 
 that the waiters were inattentive: "Kill me 
 two of them, and put it in your bill," he 
 briskly replied. And to his partner, who 
 spoke of tlie exactions of guests, he replied, 
 " Furnish a gold-dust pudding, with diamond 
 
NEW TORK TELEGRAPH EXPRESS GOLD. 
 
 197 
 
 plums, if they require, but cliarrjc accord- 
 ingly." That is the secret of hotel-keep- 
 ing in New York — let nothing be wanting, 
 not even a sufficient charge. Immense waste, 
 no doubt, attends the system, but it attracts. 
 The splendid arrangements tempt many city 
 families to take up their abode in them; and 
 a small family, oven at 83.50 per day per head, 
 do better than to pay the extravagant rents 
 demanded for fashionable houses, w ith the at- 
 tendant expenses. That these things are not 
 done cheaply, the bill of $91,000, presented 
 to the city of New York by the Metropolitan 
 Hotel for the entertainment of the Japiuiese 
 ambassadors, is ample evidence. The nu- 
 merous visitors to New York from the south 
 and west, as well as the constant current of 
 trailers, better class of emigrants, and Cali- 
 forni.a passengers, till the hotels of the lower 
 parts of the city; and the whole mass, by 
 tlu'ir purchases for personal use, make an 
 important part of the city retail trade, of 
 wliirh Broadway is the main locality. The 
 rri-ords of arrivals show the average number 
 per day at all the hotels is not far from 
 3,000. or the immense number of 81,095,000 
 per annum. This, at an average of $3, cives 
 S3,285,000 for hotel bills alone, but nil the 
 expenses cannot be estimated under SI "2,000, 
 000. The facilities of railroads and ferries 
 also induce a great deal of trade from sur- 
 rounding cities and towns within a reason- 
 able distance. Within an area of fifty miles 
 there are few who do not do their shopping 
 in New York, and very many of the small 
 local shops send dail}' messages to the city 
 to complete orders they may have receiveil. 
 On the other liand, a large quantity of manu- 
 factures that were formerly confined to the 
 city arc now sent long distances into the 
 countr}-, particularly in the winter, where they 
 are done cheaply liy those who are not de- 
 pendent upon them for a living. The large 
 circle of country thus loses its rural charac- 
 ter, and partakes of the metropolitan nature. 
 It follows that, as city localities become 
 known for particular business, and visitors 
 seek them to trade, all of that class of deal- 
 ers seek business places there, and thus con- 
 centrate the business. The fixed population 
 of the city is given by the census at 942,338, 
 and, with the neighborhood more or less 
 connected, the wants of 3,000,000 require 
 to be met from the retail stores of the cities, 
 in addition to the crowds of visitors from 
 
 abroad. Tlie retail trade is therefore a very 
 important one, and its vigor, apart from the 
 purchases of visitors, depends in some degree 
 upon the cheapness of food. Where immi- 
 gration has reached over 1,000 souls per 
 day, composed of persons skilled in almost 
 all employments, and all eager to obtain 
 work, competing with those in the city who 
 live by their occupation, and with those in 
 the country, who are, so to speak, amateurs, 
 it is evident the wages cannot bo extravagant, 
 and the amount that can be spared from 
 them, after deducting liousc-rent and food, 
 is not much in the average. Food is, liow- 
 ever, the important item. When that is 
 cheap, trade is more active. An indication 
 may be aft'orded in flour. The quantity used 
 in New York is 2,400,000 bbls. per annum. 
 In some years the price has been as low as 84, 
 in others as high as 815. The ditfcrcnce be- 
 tween these sums is 826,400,000 in one year. 
 The tax, in years of dear food, thus thrown 
 upon the city is enormous. It fortunately 
 happens, that in years of dear food the food- 
 sellers make more purchases. The influence 
 of such times is very perceptible in the 
 operations of the pawnbroker, whose bu?:i- 
 ness it is to lend small sums on the pledge 
 of almost, an}' conceivable article that may 
 be oft'ered. They charge 24 per cent, per 
 annum, and the article, unredeemed at the 
 end of a 3-ear, becomes forfeit by sale at 
 auction. The amount of loans in one year 
 was given at 83,000,000, and the number of 
 pledges 4,875,000, which would give an 
 average of about C8 cents each loan. 
 
 While cheap food is an important item in 
 the ability to purchase, yet employment is 
 the main consideration, and this depends 
 upon the prosperity of those sources on 
 which the city depends for its business. 
 These in the long run are progressive, not- 
 withstanding the reactions that sometimes 
 take place, and the diffusion of employments 
 which machine inventions tend to bring 
 about. 
 
 The general prosperity of the whole country 
 does not, however, depend upon any locality : 
 all production and all business is constantly 
 seeking the conditions under which it can 
 best thrive. These cannot be dictated; but, 
 being found, the general welfare is as a con- 
 sequence the greater, and with the general 
 prosperity the common centre must only 
 become the more magnificent. 
 
BANKS m THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BILLS OF CREDIT— fiOVRRNMKNT ISSUKS— 
 UNITED STATES BANK. 
 
 The iise of paper money is a modern in- 
 vention, and may yet be considered Imt as 
 an experiment, since, from its first emission 
 in the colonies to the present day, paper 
 money has constantly chantfed its form and 
 the conditions of its eircnlation. It is not to 
 be inferred that paper money originated on 
 this continent, since it was used long before 
 in the countries of Europe. Its nature has, 
 however, been more developed here, and 
 every phase of it has had full scope of action. 
 iThe circulating paper is of many forms, such 
 as bills of exchange, promissory notes, gov- 
 ernment bonds bearing interest, government 
 bonds bearing no interest and not converti- 
 ble into coin, but receivable for taxes and 
 dues, and lastly, corporation or bank prom- 
 ises to pay coin on demand. There are many 
 other descriptions of circulating paper, but 
 these are the chief that are used. The last 
 two are those which have figured most as 
 money. The intention of paper money is to 
 supply the place of coin where that article is 
 not sutficiently abundant, as was eminently 
 the case with the early colonies. The colo- 
 nies were none of them rich, and had not 
 been able to import and keep as much of the 
 precious metals as would serve for a currcncv, 
 that being as much an instrument of com- 
 merce as a road or a ship. In substituting 
 paper for coin there is no difficulty as long 
 as the quantity emitted does not exceed the 
 demands of business for a currency. If there is 
 no trade — that is, if no one wants to exchange 
 Ilia commodities for others — there is no want 
 of currency. As the desire to trade increases, 
 a want of money to represent commodities 
 is experienced, and the want is proportioned 
 to the numbers, wealth, and activity of the 
 traders up to a certain point; because when 
 trade is very active, money itself changes 
 liands rapidly and performs more transfers 
 
 than when it is sluggish. There must be, 
 however, great confidence in the value of the 
 money, because doubt in that respect in- 
 stantly checks tratlic. The earlj' colonists 
 were in that position. They had commodi- 
 ties wiiich they had raised and made, but 
 they had no currency, or not enough. In 
 this position, in 1690, it became necessary for 
 Massachusetts to send a military expedition 
 to Quebec to drive the French out of Canada. 
 The expedition failed, and the troops came 
 back clamorous for pay. The colony had no 
 money to pay with, and it adopted the expe- 
 dient of issuing promises in convenient 
 amounts. The faith of the colony was 
 pledged for the payment of these, and they 
 would be received for taxes and dues. It 
 will bo observed, that these bore no interest, 
 and were not convertible into coin. Thcj 
 were, in fact, mere orders of the government 
 upon farmers and others for food, clothing, 
 etc., in favor of the soldiers, to be called in 
 by taxes, not to be paid in money. The 
 paper was worth nothing to export. Its only 
 value consisted in its being good to pay taxes 
 with. It is at once obvious that no man 
 wanted more than would suflice for that pur- 
 pose. Tlie aggregate amount that could be 
 issued was then measured by the sum of the 
 taxes. In order to increase the amount, the 
 colonial government made it a legal tender, 
 that is, compelled creditors to take it for pri- 
 vate debts. This was so palpablv unjust, and 
 was productive of so many evils, that the 
 home government suppressed it. Neverthe- 
 less, the same necessities produced similar 
 devices, and other colonies followed the ex- 
 ample of Miissachusetts with similar results. 
 In 1745, Massachusetts, to defray the ex- 
 pense of an expedition to Louisburg, again 
 issued bills of credit to the extent of 
 £3,000,000. This paper speedily deprecia- 
 ted to 11 for 1: that is, £1 in silver was 
 worth £11 in those bills. The English gov- 
 ernment then sent out £180,000 in silver, to 
 pay the cost of the expedition, and with this 
 
BILLS or CREDIT GOVERNMENT ISSUES UNITED STATES BANK. 
 
 199 
 
 the thrifty colon}- boiicfht up its o\vn paper 
 it 11 for 1. New York, during the period 
 17U9 to 178G, made thirty-four issues of bills 
 of credit, amounting in the aggregate to 
 £1,563,407, and the depreciation was about 
 2 to 1 ; in other colonies much more. The 
 e\ ils attending these issues were verj' great, 
 but the cause continued to operate, and when 
 the war broke out in 1775, the Congress of 
 the Confederation was forced upon the issue 
 of s:},000,000 worth of "continental money," 
 as distinguished from the state issues; and 
 to give these issues some firmness, they made 
 them a legal tender. This supply of paper, 
 in addition to the colonial emissions, in- 
 creased the difficulties, and some of the colo- 
 nies went a step further and made personal 
 property a legal tender, according to apprais- 
 als to be made for the puipose. Notwith- 
 standing the general discredit, Congress was 
 obliged to push the issues. In 1779 the 
 iamount outstanding was 8100,000,000, and 
 by 1780 it reached $200,000,000, when the 
 value fell so fast tliat before the end of the 
 year the bills ceased to circulate. There are 
 those still living who remember giving §100 
 for "a cake of gingerbread," or ^10,000 for 
 a hat cocked in the fashion of the day. 
 The whole amount issued by Congress was 
 $359,456,000, and on the formation of the 
 new government they were purchased at the 
 rate of 1 cent for $1. The state issues met 
 with similar fate. The entire absence of 
 money thus brought about, with the attend- 
 ant evils, mainly induced the adoption of the 
 federal constitution, which at once prohib- 
 ited the states from over again issuing "bills 
 of credit," or making "any thing but gold 
 and silver a tender for the payment of debts." 
 That is, those prohibitions are a record of 
 the experience derived from the colonial ex- 
 periments in paper money. 
 
 The condemnation of "bills of credit" was 
 a great good. The important question was, 
 however, what to do next ; and this engaged 
 all minds. Specie had vanished, and govern- 
 ment paper money was dead. Mercantile 
 sagacity liad, however, on the death of the 
 continental money, devised a partial remedy 
 in 1781. This consisted of the substitution 
 of private corporate credit in place of gov- 
 ernment credit, and took shape in the char- 
 tering of the Bank of North America, at 
 Philadelphia; the Bank of New York, in 
 the city of New York ; and the Bank of Mas- 
 sachusetts, in Boston. 
 
 It is an erroneous idea, that was enter- 
 
 tained for a long time, that banks, by the 
 issues of credit, create capital, and on this 
 idea many new banks were started, impart- 
 ing much activity to trade. The good 
 efl'ects of their operation were due, however, 
 rather to the concentration and application 
 of capital to mercantile uses, than to an in- 
 crease in the quantity of capital. Before the 
 establishment of banks, individuals kept the 
 money they received in their own houses, 
 tempting robberies, and subjecting them- 
 selves to loss of interest, and to risk and 
 trouble in seeking small investments. The 
 shopkeeper and merchant who received 
 money in the course of business in small 
 sums, kept it by him until ho made his 
 wholesale purchases, when ho paid it out 
 altogether. The aggregate sum thus lying 
 entirely idle was very large. On the estab- 
 lishment of a bank, the owners of money 
 deposited it in the vaults. The institution 
 thus became the common receptacle for all 
 idle funds. Inasmuch as that, although all 
 the depositors were entitled to draw their 
 money whenever they chose, yet but a small 
 proportion did so, the banks might safely 
 lend the money so deposited on notes at 
 short dates, sixty to ninety days, and still 
 have as much within their control as would 
 meet the probable demand of the depositors 
 for payment. It was necessary, however, 
 that the notes discounted should be prompt- 
 ly paid at maturity, in order that the bank, 
 itself subject to be called upon to pay on 
 demand, might have control of the means of 
 payment. The discount of mercantile notes 
 with two good endorsers then became the 
 business of lianks ; and wo may here remark 
 in passing, that this wrought a change in the 
 mode of borrowing money in the communi- 
 ty. Up to that period, good character, in- 
 dustrv, and sobriety were security for loans. 
 An illustration of this is afforded in a be- 
 quest of Dr. Franklin in trust to the city 
 (then town) of Boston, of a sum of money 
 from which young mechanics of the above 
 characteristics were to be loaned two hun- 
 dred dollars to start them in business. They 
 were -to repay the money with interest, and 
 the sum, with its accumulation, w»3 to con- 
 tinue a fund for the same purpose. The 
 fund still continues to exist, but without 
 accumulation. Under the newly established 
 banking system, character was no longer an 
 clement of credit. A note with two good 
 names became indispensable. The capitals 
 of the banks were seldom paid in loanable 
 
200 
 
 BANKS IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 money. They were notes of tlic subscriber, 
 or real estate, and were mostly designed to 
 inspire confidence. A portion of it was req- 
 uisite to be kept on hand in specie to meet 
 the calls of depositors and note-holders. 
 The banks, in order to increase their loan- 
 able funds, were permitted to issue their own 
 promises to pay specie on demand, these 
 promises to circulate as money. The old 
 colonial issues of credit bills did not pretend 
 to be payable on demand, and the applica- 
 tion of that principle, it was now supposed, 
 would obviate the evils that had grown out 
 of the old system. The bills were freely 
 taken and circulated. The institutions were 
 not limited in the amount that they luigh.t 
 issue, and they increased the currency al- 
 most at pleasure. It became obvious, how- 
 ever, that if one bank issued a larger quan- 
 tity in proportion than the other banks, its 
 notes, paid into the rival institutions, would 
 immediately be sent back to it for redemp- 
 tion, and it would have to pay in specie the 
 balance above what it held of their notes. 
 Hence the laws of trade compelled each 
 bank to keep its credits within a safe ratio 
 to those of other institutions. This, how- 
 ever, did not prevent all from increasing 
 their issues to any extent as long as their 
 mutual balances were adjusted. When, 
 however, the whol,c of them increased their 
 circulation, the mass of currency became 
 cheap, a fact which manifests itself in a rise in 
 prices of all commodities. The effect of this 
 is, that the produce of the country ceases to 
 be exported, because it is too high to pay a 
 profit to the merchant, while, on the other 
 hand, goods are imported to avail of the high 
 prices. This state of affairs involves an ex- 
 port of specie, which drains the banks, and 
 forces back upon them their bills for re- 
 demption. Hence, if the banks regulate 
 each other by their balances, the foreign 
 trade becomes the common regulator of all. 
 Kept within a certain limit, governed by 
 produce and business, the bank circulation 
 is useful. Although it does not in any de- 
 gree create capital, it supplies the place of 
 the precious metals as currency. If wo sup- 
 pose a miller wishes to purchase grain ; he 
 gets a note or acceptance at sixty days, on 
 New York, discounted at a local bank, 
 which pays out to him circulating notes. 
 With these he purchases wheat of the farmer, 
 flours it, and forwards it to New York for 
 sale, and tlie proceeds are applied to the 
 taking up of his draft that the bank had dis- 
 
 counted. In the mean time the farmer has 
 paid awa}' the notes he took for his wheat, 
 probably to the storekeeper in discharge of 
 his bill. The storekeeper has now to remit 
 to New York to pay a note that falls due for 
 merchandise previously purchased, and fur- 
 nished to the farmer. To do so he goes to 
 the bank, and buys of it the draft on New 
 York that the institution had discounted for 
 the miller. This he remits to his merchant, 
 who gets it paid from the proceeds of the 
 flour. The transaction is thus closed, and 
 by it farm produce has been got to market, 
 and merchandise, in return, has passed from 
 the manufacturer to the consumer, ctl'ecting 
 an exchange of commodities without the use 
 of any money at all. The notes that the 
 bank put out on a draft, after performing 
 the functions fif money, returned to it in ex- 
 change f.>r the draft, and all obligations 
 were cancelled. This is the operation of 
 paper when confined to actual business 
 ti'ansactions. The number and kinds of 
 these are almost infinite, but the principle is 
 the same when the paper is only issued on 
 actual commodities, the exchange of which 
 cancels the obligations that grow out of 
 them. There is, in this, no creation of capi- 
 tal, only the facilitating the exchange of that 
 already created. Under such circumstances, 
 the quantity of currency rises and falls with 
 the quantities of produce and merchandise. 
 The moment the bank lends its notes to 
 speculative operators, who seek to borrow 
 capital itself, rather than credits with which 
 to interchange capital, it becomes insolvent, 
 because it lends what it has not got to spare. 
 The early banks mostly confined themselves 
 to sound rules, and with the rapid increase 
 of business which followed the formation of 
 the new government, their business being 
 profitable, stimulated the increase of institu- 
 tions, mostly in New England, where com- 
 merce was concentrated. The three origi- 
 nal state banks were eminently success- 
 ful, and they suggested a resource to the 
 federal government. This was developed 
 in the celebrated report of Alexander Ham- 
 ilton, Secretary of the Treasury, in favor of 
 a National Bank. The proposition at once 
 called up the right of Congress to charter a 
 bank under the constitution. After a warm 
 congressional debate upon the subject, I'resi- 
 dent Washington demanded written opinions 
 of his four cabinet officers. The Attorney 
 General and the Secretary of State declared 
 the bank unconstitutional. The Secretary 
 
BILLS OF Cr.EDIT GOVERNMENT ISSUES UNITED STATES BANK. 
 
 201 
 
 of War and the Secretary of the Treasury 
 •were of a contrary opinion, and the celebra- 
 ted paper of the latter upon (he subject de- 
 cided Washington, who signed the bill, and 
 the bank went into operation -Hith a capital 
 of 810,000,000, of ^vhich $J,000,000 was sub- 
 scribed by the government, and §8,000,000 
 by individuals. Of this latter amount, 
 1:^,000,000 was to be paid in specie and 
 ?!0,000,000 in six per cent, stock of the 
 United States. The charter was to continue 
 until March 4, 1811. Immediately on the 
 organization of the bank, the shares rose 25 
 to 45 per cent, premium, and the institution 
 paid 8 1-2 per cent, dividend. The creation 
 of this bank was attended by the rapid mul- 
 tiplication of banks in the various states, be- 
 coming rivals to each other, and gradually 
 consolidating an interest which was strong 
 enough in 1811, with other interests, to defeat 
 the recharter of the Bank of the United 
 States. The recharter was opposed on the 
 grounds: 1st, that it was unconstitutional; 
 2d, that too much of its stock was owned by 
 foreigners ; 3d, that state hanks were better. 
 It is singular that at a time wlicn capital 
 was scarce in the country, objections should 
 have been made to its coming in from abroad. 
 Nevertheless, the bank was closed, and on 
 settlement paid $108 1-2 to each share of 
 $100. From that d.ate, gold and silver only 
 were by law receivable for government dues. 
 The winding up of the National Bank was the 
 signal for creating state banks to fill the 
 vacuum. The old bank and its business was 
 purchased by Stephen Girard, who conducted 
 with it a large private banking business w itli 
 great success on a capital of §1,000,000. In 
 four years, to 1815, 120 banks, with an ag- 
 gregate capital of §40,000,000, went into 
 operation. Pennsylvania alone, by act of 
 March 21, 1814, created 41 banks. The 
 amount of notes emitted by these institutions 
 was never known with certainty, but was es- 
 timated by Mr. Jefferson, in 1814, as high as 
 $200,000,000. A large portion of these, in 
 the middle states, were issued as loans to the 
 government ; and tlie war pressure became 
 such, that in September, 1814, all the banks 
 out of New England stopped payment. The 
 bills immediately depreciated 20 per cent, 
 in Baltimore, and 15 per cent, in New York. 
 The news of peace, in February 1815, caused 
 some improvement, but in 1816 the difficul- 
 ties were greater than ever. The discount 
 in Baltimore was 20 per cent., Philadelphia 
 17, New York 12 1-2. This kind of paper 
 
 being the only currency, the government was 
 compelled to take it for dues, in violation of 
 law. This caused the greatest injustice, since 
 the funds received in one place were more 
 depreciated than in another, and New Eng- 
 land, where the currency was sound, had 
 great cause of complaint. In such a state of 
 atlairs, although the state banks had multi- 
 plied to 24G, with $89,822,422 capital, anew 
 National Bank became inevitable, and Con- 
 gress, by act of April, 1816, again chartered 
 a National Bank, which went into operation 
 January 1817. Its charter was to last until 
 March 4, 183G; its capital was $35,000,000, 
 of which the United States subscribed 
 87,000,000 in a 5 per cent, stock, and the 
 remaining $28,000,000 was to be subscribed 
 by individuals — one-fourth in gold and silver 
 and three-fourths in the funded debt of the 
 United States. The debts of the bank, in 
 excess of its deposits, were not to exceed 
 $35,000,000. The bank was to pay a bonus 
 of $1,500,000, and perform the money busi- 
 ness of the government free of charge. In 
 return it received the public funds on deposit, 
 and nothing was to be taken for public dues 
 except specie, treasury notes, notes of specie 
 paying banks, and the National Bank notes. 
 When the bank went into operation it became 
 necessary for the state banks to resume or 
 wind up. Those of New York, Philadelphia, 
 Baltimore, and Virginia resumed, and those 
 which did not were gradually purged off. 
 From 1 81 1 to 1 830, 1 65 banks, with a cipital 
 of $30,000,000, closed business. The loss 
 of the trovernment by these was estimated at 
 $1,390,707, and the public lost much larger 
 sums. The bank, in the first few years of 
 its operation, encountered manv perils, grow- 
 ing out of the foreign trade. Imports poured 
 into the country in prodigious amounts, and 
 an active demand for silver sprung up for 
 Europe and Asia. The institution had, how- 
 ever, in the public .stock and in its own stock, 
 forming its capital, the means of drawing 
 specie from Europe, which it did to an ex- 
 tent that subjected it to a loss of over half a 
 million dollars. 
 
 The institution was of much service to 
 the government, and enjoyed great facilities 
 from the use of the public funds. The prin- 
 cipal bank was at I'hiladelphia, with branches 
 in most of the large cities. This organiza- 
 tion of the bank made it very powerful as a 
 means of exchange, and this power was likely 
 to grow with the increasing .wealth of the 
 country, up to the time when railroads and 
 
202 
 
 BANKS IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 telegraphs made communication more rapid. 
 The power of the bank was based upon the 
 federal finances, of whicli it was the agent, 
 and it operated through the growing busi- 
 ness of the country, which was conducted 
 largely upon the credit system. As the 
 country increased in prosperity, other banks, 
 under state charters, sprung up, and these 
 became the recipients of mercantile deposits, 
 or, in other words, of the money which each 
 merchant received in the course of his busi- 
 ness, and also of private funds. The mer- 
 chants who thus placed their funds with the 
 banks were constantly debtors of the govern- 
 ment for duties and taxes ; these they paid 
 by checks on their respective banks. The 
 I'nited States Bank, being the common re- 
 cipient of all these checks, was thus always 
 the creditor of the local banks, and could 
 always force them to contract their loans by 
 compelling them to pay, or could permit 
 them to increase their loans by being indul- 
 gent in regard to balances. The govern- 
 ment funds thus collected by the United 
 States Bank were paid out by it wherever 
 the government required. Tlius the Boston 
 and New York branches would collect the 
 largest amounts, but the branches in Rich- 
 mond and elsewhere, or the parent bank in 
 Philadelphia, would pay the drafts of the 
 government. In the first year of the old 
 bank it received $3,'652,000 of the pub- 
 lic money. As business prospered, the 
 amount rose annually, until it reached 
 $17,038,859 in 1808, before the embargo. 
 Thus the receipts and payments on govern- 
 ment account were thirty-four millions in a 
 year, when the wliole population was 
 5,200,000 souls. The new bank in 1817 re- 
 ceived ^32, 786,002 for accounts of the gov- 
 ernment. The sum declined year by j^cir 
 to $21,347,000 in the year of crisis, 1825, 
 and subsequently continued at about twenty- 
 four millions per annum, until 1833, when 
 the deposits were removed by the govern- 
 ment. These large sums annually flowed in 
 and flowed out of the bank on account of 
 the government, and a large proportion of 
 the payments were on account of the public 
 debt. This reached §127,334,934 in 1810, 
 and was by annual payments extinguished 
 in 1835, a period of nineteen years; the 
 average amount paid oft' annually by the 
 government was thus §0,700,000. The 
 government bank, being furnished with such 
 machinery, «as necessarily the best medium 
 of collecting bills ; thus the New York mer- 
 
 chants, as an instance, sold their goods to 
 the shopkeepers all over the Union, and 
 they took notes payable at the local banks. 
 The credits thus granted could be collected 
 by the United States Bank clicaper than by 
 any other bank. Hence, in New York, the 
 " branch" would be the receptacle for 
 accounts to be collected in all other cities ; 
 the bank would forward these to its appro- 
 priate branch, say Richmond ; the branch 
 there would notify the local merchants of 
 the notes it held against them ; these would 
 p.ay in checks upon the local banks wliere 
 they kept their deposits, and all these cliecks 
 Collected by the United States brancli would 
 make it the common creditor of all the local 
 banks, whose specie it thus controlled ; it 
 would notify the New York branch of what 
 collections liad been made, and these would 
 credit the mercantile owners with the 
 amounts. The power of the bank from this 
 source, operating through all its branches, 
 was much greater than from the use of the 
 government funds, and the state banks com- 
 plained loudly of the tyranny that they 
 alleged it exerted over them. A stormy 
 opposition was thus formed against it, while, 
 on the other hand, a generation of merchants 
 had grown up under its administration of the 
 exchanges, and they feared the results of a 
 change. Meanwhile, the question became 
 political, and a great party, as early as 1829, 
 gave indication that the rceharter in 1836 
 would not be granted. A struggle between 
 the bank and the government ensued, and 
 in 1833 the President removed the public 
 deposits from the bank and placed them 
 with numerous state bank.s. These ran a 
 race of expansion with the United States 
 Bank; the consequence was an immense spec- 
 ulation, which resulted in general bankruptcy 
 in 1837. The government, on removing the 
 deposits to the state banks, enjoined them 
 to be liberal to the merchants. This was 
 done in tlio view of counteracting the strin- 
 gency which the closing up of the United 
 States Bank was expected to cause. This 
 did not occur, however, since that institu- 
 tion also was liberal with its loans. A rapid 
 expansion resulted from this rivalry, and 
 specul.ation ran wild, paiticularly in public 
 lands. In the midst of this excitement, the 
 government issued the famous " specie cir- 
 cular," by wliich the lands were to he sold 
 for cash, gold and silver only. The efl'eet of 
 this would be cither to kill the speculation 
 or to drain all the specie into tlie land oflSccs; 
 
BILLS OF CREDIT GOVERNMENT ISSUES UNITED STATES BANK. 
 
 203 
 
 it did the former. This was followed by a 
 resolution of the Bank of England to cut 
 off credits to American merchants, and the 
 revulsion was precipitated. The charter of 
 the United States Bank was not renewed by 
 Congress, but the same institution obtained 
 a charter from the State of Pennsylvania, 
 February 18, 1836, under the name of the 
 United States Bank of Philadelphia. The 
 terms of this charter were very onerous, such 
 as no institution could pay from profits ; the 
 bank consequently failed, in common with 
 all others in the Union, in 1837. It resumed 
 its payments, following those of New York, 
 January, 1830, and struggled on until Octo- 
 ber 1839, when it finally failed. On 
 going into liquidation, it was found that 
 more than the whole of its large capital, 
 635,000,000, had been swallowed up, sub- 
 jecting the stockholders to a total loss. This 
 disaster was no doubt brought about by its 
 abandonment of sound principles in the vain 
 hope of compelling the government to re- 
 charter it. But the institution had outlived 
 its usefulness ; the country had outgrown 
 the circumstances for which such a bank 
 was fitted. We have thus sketched the 
 outline of that bank before glancing at the 
 progress of the state institutions, because, 
 up to 1840, that bank was the controlling 
 power. The progress of banking among the 
 states has been step by step with the grow- 
 ing wealth, population, and commerce of the 
 country. This growth was manifestly too 
 vigorous to permit of the continued existence 
 of any regulating power. 
 
 The relative growth of the state banks, 
 and the business of the country proportional 
 to the national bank, was as follows : — 
 
 No. 
 
 1791, 3 
 
 1811, 89 
 
 1817, 246 
 
 18.S7, 634 
 
 1860, 1,562 
 
 State bnnks. 
 
 I apitui, 
 
 2,000,000 
 
 52,601,001 
 
 89,822,422 
 
 290,772,091 
 
 421,880,095 
 
 Nation.ll b,ank. 
 C;tpital. 
 10,000,000 
 10,000,000 
 35,000,000 
 35,000,000 
 
 Thus the national bank, which began 
 with a capital five times as large as all the 
 state banks, was only one-fifth of their 
 aggregate in 1811. In 1817 the state capi- 
 tal was two and a half times the new Na- 
 tional Bank capital, and in 1836 it was eight 
 times that capital. Had it then been re- 
 chartered, with the same amount, it would 
 now have lieen but one-twelfth of the capital 
 of the state banks. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 STATE BANKS— SUFFOLK SYSTEM-SAFETY 
 FUNDS— FREE BANKS. 
 
 The growth of state banks has fluctuated 
 from time to time, under different circum- 
 stances of local trade, and the general nature 
 of banks has changed in obedience to similar 
 conditions. The nature of the banking sys- 
 tems of each locality has, however, under- 
 gone repeated modifications, and the general 
 tendency is to the circulation of less paper. 
 We .shall endeavor to give a sketch of each. 
 The first attempt at banking in New Ensiland 
 was the creation of a land bank in 1740. 
 At that time about eight hundred persons 
 subscribed a capital in real estate, and hav- 
 ing appointed ten directors, agreed to issue 
 one hundred and tifty thousand pounds in 
 paper, to circulate as money. Tiiis was dis- 
 solved by Parliament, and the stockholders 
 held individually liable for the bills. In 
 1784 a bank was chartered by the Massachu- 
 setts Legislature, and the other New England 
 states followed the example from time to 
 time. In 1805 there were in existence 
 forty-seven banks in the six New England 
 states, with an aggregate capital of §13,- 
 353,000. In 1815," at die close of the war, 
 these had risen to sixty-three banks, and 
 819,053,902 of capital, and the circulation 
 had become large. In 1860 the number of 
 banks in those states had risen to five hun- 
 dred and five, with a capital of S9ij,l 86,990. 
 In the course of tliis increase, the .system of 
 banking there had undergone less' chann-es 
 than in other states- 
 
 The paper currency of New Enifland was 
 generally of small denominations, and emit- 
 ted by a larger number of banks with small 
 capitals than that of most other sections. 
 These institutions were scattered over the 
 six New England states, and the bills of 
 each bank forming the currency of its neigh- 
 borhood, would, in the course "of trade, ulti- 
 mately find their way to Boston, the com- 
 mon centre of business. There being no 
 provision for their redemption, they cii'cu- 
 lated at a discount, and this discount was 
 increased in proportion to the issues of each 
 bank, inflicting lo.ss ufion the community. 
 To remedy this, the Sufl'olk Bank of Boston, 
 in 1825, undertook to receive all the bills 
 and send them home by an agent to the 
 issuing bank, requiring each to redeem in 
 
204 
 
 BANKS IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 specie at its own counter. Thi.s compelled 
 eacli banlc to keep a large amount of specie 
 on liand, at an expense which ate up the 
 profits of the circulation. They all agreed, 
 in consequence, to keep at the Suffolk about 
 three thousand dollars deposited, to redeem 
 any balance of notes that might be there 
 found against them. To keep down that 
 balance each was then compelled to restrict 
 its circulation to the actual business wants 
 of its locality, that there might be no surplus 
 currency ; in other words, tliat the course 
 of trade might carry to Boston no more of 
 its bills than would be paid by the produce 
 of the localit}' sent thither for sale, and also 
 to send promptly to the Suffolk any bills of 
 other banks that might come into its hands, 
 as an offset to its own balances. Thus all 
 the banks in New England were actively en- 
 gaged in running each other, and five hun- 
 dred streams ]ioured country money daily 
 into the Suffolk receptacle, to be assorted 
 and sent back to the issuers. This kept down 
 the volume of the currency in that section. 
 After the creation of railroads and tele- 
 graphs, the ditliculty of keeping out an excess 
 of circulation was greater. To be '' thrown 
 out of the Su'folk," or, in other words, not 
 be able to meet a balance there, was fatal 
 to the reputation of a bank. The system 
 worked well up to the civil war. It was 
 the case, however, that although those insti- 
 tutions could not put out an excessive cir- 
 culation in New England, many of them 
 lent their notes on securities, on condition 
 that the notes should be ]iaid out at the far 
 west, whence they would be very slow in re- 
 turning for redemption. The Suffolk mode 
 of regulation by the laws of trade was, upon 
 the whole, very successfiil. 
 
 In New York the same evils manifested them- 
 selves as in New England, and in 18-29 a rem- 
 edy was attempted in the shape of the " safety 
 fund." This did not undertake to restrain the 
 issues of the banks, but to protect the public 
 from loss by failure. Under it all the banks 
 doing business in the state were required to 
 contribute one-half of one per cent of their 
 aggregate circulation to a fund to be called 
 the " Safety Fund," out of which the notes 
 of a broken bank were to be paid in full. 
 This worked very well during a number of 
 years of prosperity, but in the revulsion of 
 1837 a number of banks failed under disas- 
 trous circumstances, and the fund was found 
 to be entirely insufticient — besides being 
 wrong in principle, since it called upon the 
 
 honest and well-conducted hanks to pay the 
 debts of the dishonest ones. It is hardly 
 worth while, in a short history like this, to 
 enumerate all the restrictions as to discounts, 
 specie on hand, and emission of bills, that 
 the various states have incorporated in bank 
 laws. It may suffice to say, that all are 
 powerless to prevent evil. On the failure of 
 the safety fund system of New York, how- 
 ever, a radical change took place in the policy 
 in regard to banks. The privilege of issuing 
 notes to circulate as money at their own will 
 and pleasure, had been found to be danger- 
 ous to the public, and the law of April, 1 838, 
 called the " free banking law," was passed, 
 by which the power to issue bills directly 
 was taken from the banks. Under that law, 
 the Comptroller of the state prepared the 
 plates, and delivered the bills to the banks, 
 upon their lodging with him such securities, 
 mostly state stocks, as amply secured the re- 
 demption of the bills. The name, " free 
 banking," was given to the law, because it re- 
 moved from the banks the restrictions rela- 
 tive to discounts, and the necessity for a char- 
 ter. This law was altered in some respects 
 almost every year of its existence, but its 
 main features remained the same, and it be- 
 came in New York the sole law to regulate 
 banking. All the old banks, as their charters 
 expired, reorganized under it, since the state 
 constitution provided that no new charters 
 could be granted or old ones renewed. The 
 VForking of this law was so efficient and pop- 
 ular, that it spread into most of the northern 
 and western states. The progress of bank- 
 ing in New York has been as follows : 
 
 NUMBER OF BANKS AND AGGREGATE CAPITAL. 
 
 
 No 
 
 Capita!. 
 
 
 ISOl, 
 
 5 
 
 4.720,000 
 
 
 1811, 
 
 8 
 
 7,522,760 
 
 Expiration of first tJ, S. bank. 
 
 1316, 
 
 27 
 
 18,706,756 
 
 Kecharter U. S. banlt. 
 
 1831), 
 
 86 
 
 31,281,461 
 
 Ciiarter U. S. Bk expired ; supp 
 
 1S.S8, 
 
 94 
 
 3i;,401,460 
 
 Free banking law ; resumption. 
 
 185;, 
 
 2^4 
 
 107,449,143 
 
 Suspenion. 
 
 I860, 
 
 3 '3 
 
 111,441,.370 
 
 Recovery - 
 
 1861, 
 
 302 
 
 109,982,324 
 
 AVar commenced. 
 
 1863. 
 
 809 
 
 109,258,147 
 
 Organization of Nat. banlu. 
 
 The New York law requires the banks to 
 issue the bills at the place of their location, 
 and to redeem them at not more than one- 
 half per cent, discount in the city of New 
 York. These institutions, liowever, have an 
 arrangement with the Metropolitan Bank, in 
 New York, by which they are redeemed at 
 a less rate. 
 
 Pennsylvania, in the early part of the cen- 
 tury, was slow to create banks, and it had 
 but three up to 1814, in which year 41 new 
 
STATE BANKS SUFFOLK SYSTEM SAFETY FUNDS FREE BANKS. 
 
 205 
 
 
 Jo 
 
 Capital. 
 
 1801, 
 
 ■A 
 
 5,i>X),0(XI 
 
 ISIl, 
 
 4 
 
 6,1.>3,0'») 
 
 1SI5, 
 
 4'J 
 
 l."i,0 -.-i.ooo 
 
 IS-iil, 
 
 Si 
 
 i»,i;si,i)i() 
 
 ISSii, 
 
 41) 
 
 23, 15 i,:S3S 
 
 l&ii), 
 
 4H 
 
 2.5,2.V,,,-S3 
 
 1S59, 
 
 S7 
 
 21,r)i.-,,SI|-j 
 
 ISlll, 
 
 «i) 
 
 2J,S4:i2l5 
 
 l8tJ3, 
 
 ai 
 
 2U,561,3J7 
 
 bunks were incorporated. Siibsequent'y, it 
 created numbers, and has probibly MiHered 
 more than any other state from its abused 
 bank credits. The progress of affairs there 
 was as foUaws, exchisive of the United States 
 Bank, which was situated at Pliiiadelphia: — 
 
 Expiration of U. S. bank. 
 Lo\vcr«dit ; 41 new banlts. 
 Twenty-two banl^s failed. 
 State oliarter U. S. bit ; susp. 
 Itesuniption. 
 
 Recovery from panic of 1867. 
 AVar commenced. 
 Orj^anizatiou Nat. banks. 
 
 1 Tliere was, up to 18.'50, a great number of 
 unauthorized l>anks iloing business in Penn- 
 sylvania, and I hey presented a constant suc- 
 cession ot bankruptcies. The authorized 
 icapilal down to the present time lias not kept 
 pace with that of other states, taking the 
 wealth and population of Pennsylvania into 
 consideration. 
 
 Mar^and chartered its first bank in 1790, 
 ithe Banlt of Maryland, capital $.JiiO,ii()0, and 
 continued to increase tliein moderately up to 
 the present time. The progress of capital 
 Ithere has been as follows : — 
 
 
 No. 
 
 Capit,al. 
 
 
 1801, 
 
 2 
 
 Sl.iioii.ono 
 
 
 ISII, 
 
 6 
 
 4,8-i."),402 
 
 U. S. Bank expired 
 
 1814, 
 
 17 
 
 7,8-2,000 
 
 Banks suspended. 
 
 18211, 
 
 14 
 
 6,708,180 
 
 
 1 8.! 7, 
 
 21 
 
 10.438,6.'>.'j 
 
 Suspension. 
 
 18.-.9, 
 
 32 
 
 12..')60,635 
 
 
 1862, 
 
 33 
 
 12,.'iO.),5.'>9 
 
 War in progress. 
 
 New Jersey has been influenced to some 
 exlentTii her b inking operations, by the slate 
 iif tilings in New York and Penn.sylvania, 
 and in 18.50 it adopted the general iianking 
 law of New York. Its progress has been as 
 follows : — 
 
 No. Capital. 
 
 180.1, 2 Sl.OOO.OOO 
 
 1811, 3 789,740 IT. S. B.ink expired. 
 
 1815, II 2,121.9.33 Suspension. 
 
 1-20, 14 2,1,!0,949 
 
 1837, 2.i 3.9711.090 Suspension. 
 
 1830, 24 3. .56.5 283 Free law. 
 
 185.5, 32 5,314, S85 
 
 1857, 48 7,494,ei2 Suspension. 
 
 1859, 45 7,331., 122 
 
 1802, 51 7,933, 9J3 War in progress. 
 
 The multiplication of banks in New Jersey 
 under the new law, was mostly for the benefit 
 of circulating their issues in New Y'ork at a 
 di.^count, and they were of but little service 
 to New Jersey. 
 
 Delaware has created banks in proportion 
 to its size, in the following ratio : — 
 
 
 No. 
 
 Capital. 
 
 
 1801, 
 
 1 
 
 5110,000 
 
 
 1815, 
 
 5 
 
 966,0(10 
 
 Suspension. 
 
 1819, 
 
 6 
 
 974,000 
 
 
 1837, 
 
 4 
 
 817,775 
 
 Suspension. 
 
 1849 
 
 2 
 
 210,000 
 
 Gold diseovery 
 
 1839' 
 
 12 
 
 1,638,185 
 
 
 1862, 
 
 14 
 
 1,915,010 
 
 War in prog re 
 
 Ohio has been, of all the states, the most 
 diversified in its policy in regard to banks. 
 Its first bank was chartered in 1803, but it 
 did not increase charters much until migra- 
 tion set thither after the war of 1812. when 
 the new United States Bank established two 
 branches, one in Cincinnati and one in Cliil- 
 licolhe. The progress of banks was then 
 rapid up to the explosion of 1837, when alont 
 36 of the banks of tliat state failid undi r 
 disastrous circumstances, leaving but few in 
 existence on the resumption of specie |'ay- 
 raents in 1840. In 1845, a new systtni of 
 banking 5vas introduced, designed to restore 
 that conlidence in banks which had been so 
 rudely shaken by the previous failures. It 
 was called the " safety fund system," being 
 compo.sed of thirty -six banks w hich, together, 
 form the State Bank, under a board of con- 
 trol, composed of delegates from each bank, 
 which furnishes the notes to all for circula- 
 tion. Each biink mu-t deposit with the board 
 10 per cent, of its circulation in securities. 
 Of 42 banks started under this law, 36 re- 
 mained with capital of $4,034,525. The same 
 law created the "independent system," by 
 which the banks doing business under it 
 must deposit Ohio or United States stock 
 with the State Treasurer to secure tlie circu- 
 lation. There were 7 of these banks. There 
 remained the old chartered banks, of which 
 the Ohio Life and Trust — whose explosion 
 in 1857 precipitated the panic which had 
 been prepared for the public mind — was 
 the last. In 1851, the free banking la5v of 
 New York was adopted ; under this 13 1 anks 
 were started. In ihe same year, by the new 
 constitution of the state, the legislature was 
 deprived of the right to grant banking powers 
 until the law for so doing should be approved 
 by the people. The general progress in Ohio 
 to 1862, was as follows : — 
 
 
 No. 
 
 Capital. 
 
 
 1805, 
 
 1 
 
 $200,000 
 
 
 1811, 
 
 4 
 
 895,000 
 
 
 1816, 
 
 21 
 
 2,061.927 
 
 New XJ. S. Bank 
 
 1837, 
 
 32 
 
 10,870,089 
 
 Suspension. 
 
 1845, 
 
 8 
 
 2,171,807 
 
 State bank law. 
 
 1831, 
 
 56 
 
 7,129,227 
 
 Free law. 
 
 1854, 
 
 66 
 
 7,166,581 
 
 Free law. 
 
 1859, 
 
 53 
 
 6,701,151 
 
 Recovery. 
 
 1862, 
 
 56 
 
 5,539,950 
 
 War in progress. 
 
206 
 
 BANKS IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Indiana became a state in 1816, and in 
 1819 there were two banks, with a capital 
 of S'202,857, and so continued until 1834, 
 when the State Bank of Indiana was created, 
 capital $1,600,000, and with ten branches, 
 which were mutually liable for each other's 
 debts, and notes under $5 were prohibited. 
 The bank stopped, partially, in 1837, and 
 resumed payment October, 1841, In 1852 
 the general banking law of New York was 
 adopted, and under it ninety-four banks were 
 speedily organized, and (ifty-one of them soon 
 failed. The charter of the State Bank of 
 Indiana having expired, the legislature char- 
 tered a new one, with capital of $6,000,000, 
 and twenty branches, which bouglit out the 
 state interest in the old bank, the charter 
 being paid up to January 1, 1857. The 
 progress of the state has been as follows • 
 
 No. Capital. 
 
 1819, 2 $202,857 
 
 18.35, 10 800,000 State bank. 
 
 18.37, 11 1,845,000 Suspension. 
 
 1839, 11 2,216,700 Resumption. 
 
 1841, 11 
 
 1 852, 44 5,554,552 Free banking law. 
 
 1854, 59 7,281,934 New state bank. 
 
 1859, 37 3.017,629 
 
 1862, 39 4,557,654 War in progress. 
 
 Eighteen of these free banks, capital 
 $1,203,454. 
 
 Illinois came into the Union in 1818, and 
 in 1819 there were two banks, capital 
 $140,910 — one of which had been chartered 
 in 1813, under the territory. It stopped in 
 1815 and rema'ned so until 1835, when the 
 legislature revived it and increased its capital 
 to $1,400,000. The constitution of the 
 state in 1818 forbade the creation of any 
 new banks except a st.ate bank, which 
 was cliartered in 1819, with a capital of 
 $4,000,000. This was repealed and a new 
 bank chartered, which speedily failed. In 
 1835 a new bank was chartered, capital 
 $1,500,000 to $2,500,000. These banks sus- 
 pended in 1837, going into liquidation in 
 
 1842, and no banks existed in the state until 
 the adoption of the free banking law in 1851. 
 The general progress to 1862, was as follows : 
 
 Nn. Capital. 
 
 1819, 2 .$140,910 
 
 1835, 2 278,739 State bank charter. 
 
 1838, 2 5,473,0.50 Failure. 
 
 1 843, Liquidation. 
 1854, 29 2,513,790 Free banking law. 
 1857, 45 4,679,325 Suspension. 
 1859, 103 8,900,000 Recovery. 
 
 1862, 18 712,.15l War produced a crisis. 
 
 Michigan was admitted as a state in Jan- 
 uary, 1837, but there had been already a 
 
 number of small banks authorized by the 
 territorial legislature. These rapidly multi- 
 plied under the state, during the speculative 
 year 1837. In the early part of that year 
 there existed 20 banks, with a capital of 
 $1,918,361. These were a total wreck, and 
 in March, 1838, a general banking law 
 was passed, in order, as was alleged, to throw 
 the Ijusiness open. In one year, 49 banks, 
 with a capital of $3,915,000, were projected. 
 Of these, 42 went into operation. Those 
 banks were not required to redeem their 
 issues on demand. The result was utter in- 
 solvency, inflicting a heavy loss upon the 
 public. In 1849, the " free banking law " 
 was adopted, with personal Uabilities to stock- 
 holders. The progress was as follows ; — 
 
 No. Capital. 
 
 1835, 8 $658,980 Territorial government. 
 
 1837, 9 1,400,000 State and general law. 
 
 1838, 43 2,317,765 Revulsion. 
 1844, 3 202,650 Liquidation. 
 1849, 5 392,530 Free law. 
 1859, 4 755,461 
 
 1862, 4 786,455 
 
 Iowa was admitted into the Union in 1846. 
 It had at Dubuque the Miners' Bank, char- 
 tered by Wisconsin before the erection of 
 Iowa territory, in operation since 1838. In 
 1858 it adopted the free banking law, and 
 authorized a State Bank, which, with its 
 branches, organized in 1859. In 1862, the 
 State Bank and its 15 branches had $720,- 
 890 capital. 
 
 Wisconsin was admittted into the Union 
 in 1848. It had, during some ten years, two 
 banks, that of Mineral Point and the Bank 
 of Wisconsin ; these failed, and in 1851 a 
 new bank was started at Milwaukee. In 1854 
 the free banking law was adopted ; since that 
 time the progress has been as follows : — 
 
 
 No. 
 
 Capital. 
 
 
 1837, 
 
 2 
 
 $119,625 
 
 
 1839, 
 
 2 
 
 139,125 
 
 Suspension. 
 
 1848, 
 
 
 
 State admitted. 
 
 1854, 
 
 10 
 
 600,000 
 
 Free law. 
 
 1857, 
 
 38 
 
 2,635,000 
 
 Suspension. 
 
 1859, 
 
 98 
 
 7,995,000 
 
 Expansion. 
 
 1860, 
 
 108 
 
 7,620,000 
 
 Exp.ansion. 
 
 1862, 
 
 70 
 
 4,397,000 
 
 I'anic. 
 
 The operation of the free law, by retarding 
 the convertibility of the bills ot the Wis- 
 consin banks, caused, when crops are short, 
 exchange on the east to rule high, in other 
 words depreciates the currency. The bank 
 circulation was about $4,600,000. 
 
 Minnesota has made, as yet, little prog- 
 ress in banking. It adopted the free bank- 
 ing law in 1858, and several banks were 
 

 
 
BTATK BANKS SUFFOLK SYSTEM SAFETY FUNDS FREE BANKS. 
 
 207 
 
 Started uiKler it. In 1800 there were 17, 
 but before May, 1862, 14 of these had failed 
 and 2 of the remaining three did no business 
 in the state. 
 
 Nebraska, before becoming a stale, had 
 a number of imnk^, chartered by the legisla- 
 ture, but these all went down, some in the 
 panic of 18;') 7 and some afterwards, and in 
 1862 she had not one left. 
 
 Kentucky was admitted into the Union in 
 1792, and in 1801 it authorized a bank, with 
 a capital of §150,000, under the guise of an 
 Insurance Company, authorized to issue 
 notes. In 1804 it chartered the Bank of 
 Kentucky, capital $1,000,000 ; this bank 
 failed in 1814, but resumed in 1815. In 
 1817abatch of forty banks, with $10,000,000 
 capital, was authorized to redeem their notes 
 by paying out Kentucky bank-notes for 
 them instead of specie. The result was a 
 flood of irredeemable paper, which stimu- 
 lated all kinds of speculation and jobbing, 
 and ended in a general explosion and dis- 
 tress within the year. To " relieve " the 
 people, the state chartered the Common- 
 wealth Bank, capital $3,000,000, pledging 
 lands south of the Tennessee river, in addi- 
 tion to the faith of the state, for the redemp- 
 tion of the bills, which creditors were re- 
 quired to take at par for their claims, or 
 wait two years for their pay. The bills fell 
 at once to fifty cents on the dollar, and 
 which proportion of their debts creditors 
 were thus required to lose. This gave rise 
 to party strife, which, at the end of five years, 
 resulted in the repeal of the law and the 
 suppression of the paper. The United States 
 Bank had two branches in the state, one at 
 Lexington and one at Louisville. When, in 
 1833, it became evident that that institution 
 would not be rechartered, throe new banks, 
 with branches, were authorized, capital 
 $7,030,000 ; subsequently another was start- 
 ed. These went into operation, but sus- 
 pended in 1837, resuming in 1839 with the 
 Lnited States Bank, and again .suspended on 
 the final failure of that concern. In 1842, 
 the banks again resumed, and since then the 
 number has gradually increased, as follows: 
 
 No. Capital. 
 
 $4307.431 Irredeemable. 
 792,427 New cli.irter. 
 4,10G,2G2 "n'itli ten branches. 
 8,499,09-t Suspension. 
 7,536,927 
 ]0,.')9R,''f"' 
 12,83,'j,670 
 15,305,.')00 
 
 1819, 
 
 18 
 
 1833, 
 
 9 
 
 1835, 
 
 4 
 
 1837, 
 
 4 
 
 1851, 
 
 26 
 
 1857, 
 
 35 
 
 1860, 
 
 45 
 
 l^b2, 
 
 57 
 
 Pnspension. 
 Recovery. 
 War time. 
 
 Tennessee commenced banking in 1807, 
 with the Bank of Nashville, which soon 
 failed with great loss. In 1811 it again 
 chartered ten banks, and a number of others 
 were from time to time started, but failed 
 disastrously. In 1852 the free banking law 
 was adopted, an<l the progress of affairs to 
 18G0 was as follows : — 
 
 No. 
 
 .819, 3 
 
 1820, 1 
 
 1835, 3 
 
 1837, 3 
 
 1852, 2.3 
 
 1857, 45 
 
 1860, 34 
 
 Cnpitol. 
 $1,545,867 
 737,817 
 2,890,381 
 5,293,079 
 6,881,568 
 9,083,693 
 8.067,037 
 
 Bisastrous failure. 
 State bank cliarter. 
 Four branches. 
 Suspeusion. 
 
 Suspension. 
 
 Arkansas had two banks that were startetj 
 upon state bonds. These the state issued 
 to the extent of $3,500,000 to the banks to 
 form their capitals. The bonds were sold 
 through the United States Bank, and the 
 money obtained for them was loaned out 
 pro rata to the stockholders, who became so 
 by filing mortgages on their plantations and 
 lands. Speedy ruin, of course, overtook 
 both banks. These went into liquidation, 
 owing the state some $3,000,000 on the 
 bonds' which were not paid. No banks were 
 started again in Arkansas till after the war. 
 
 Mississippi is a state in which banking 
 for a long time ran riot, but which lias liad 
 but little in the last ten years. When the 
 state came into the Union in 1817 it had 
 one bank, which continued with an increased 
 capital to 1830. In that year the state 
 chartered the Planters' Bank, with a capital 
 of $3,000,000, two-thirds to be subscribed 
 by the state in stock, which was issued, and 
 the bank went into operation. Other banks 
 were then chartered, and in 1837 there were 
 seventeen, with eighteen branches, and a 
 capital of $16,760,951. In that year the 
 Union Bank was chartered, with a capital of 
 $15,000,000 in state stock; of this amount 
 $5,000,000 was issued, and repudiated on 
 the ground of illegality of sale, and in 1852 
 the people refused, by a large vote, to pay 
 those bonds. All the banks of Mississippi 
 failed, and there has since been but little 
 movement, as follows : — 
 
 No. Cnpilnl. 
 
 1820, 1 $900,000 
 
 1830, 1 950,600 Capital increased. 
 
 1834, 1 2,666,805 
 
 1837, 17 16,700,951 18 br.anches. 
 
 1838, 
 1840, 
 1851, 
 1859, 
 1861, 
 
 U 
 
 18 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 19,231,123 
 
 30,379,403 
 
 118,460 
 
 1,100,000 
 
 suspension. 
 Failure. 
 
 All faUed. 
 
208 
 
 BANKS IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Missouri had one btiiik when it came into 
 the Union in 1821, but it failed disastrously. 
 The State Bank of Missouri and branches 
 continued to be ihe only institution up to 
 18J6, when a law was passed authorizing 
 others, and the progress to 18 02, was as 
 follows : — 
 
 No. Branches. Capital. 
 
 1819, 1 $250,000 
 
 l-.!7, 1 1 533,350 State bank. 
 
 18S9, 1 I 1,027,870 
 
 1857, 5 5 2,620,615 Suspension. 
 
 1859, 17 5 5.796,781 Expansion. 
 1861), 9 29 9,08-',951 
 
 1S62, 44 — 13,884,383 
 
 Louisiana came into the Union in 1812, 
 wiih one bank, having a capital of $.500,000. 
 Tills was increased to three banks in 181.5. 
 capital $1,4.'J2,000. The proj^ress subse- 
 quently was not great until alter 1830, when 
 the speculative spirit of those years was 
 largely developed in Louisiana, and thence 
 to 18(50, was as follows : — 
 
 No. Cranche.f. Capital. 
 
 1830, 3 $4,665,980 
 
 1817, 16 31 36,769,4.'.5 Suspension. 
 
 1810, 16 31 41,711,214 Faihire. 
 
 1843, 6 22 20,929,;i40 Lii|ui(l:ition. 
 
 1851, 6 22 12.370,390 Fni' bank law. 
 
 1857, 6 22,8(MP,830 Suspension. 
 
 1860, 13 — 24,496,866 
 
 The free banking law was adopted in 
 1853, and four banks were started under its 
 provisions, which required the banks to 
 keep one third of their liabilities in specie 
 on hand. 
 
 Alabama has had experience of a disas- 
 trous nature in state banking, and there has 
 been little enterprise in that direction since 
 the fa lure of the State Hank. When she 
 came into the Union in 1819 she had one 
 bank, with a capiial of $321,112. In 1830 
 slie had two banks. It was then supposed 
 that by embarking in banking, the state 
 might derive prolits enough to pay all the 
 state expenses and dispense with taxation. 
 Accordingly, state bonds were issued to form 
 the capital of the State Bank, which how- 
 ever, soon failed, and the state was saddled 
 with a debt of some $11,000,000. 
 
 The progress was as follows : — 
 
 No. CapiUl. 
 
 1819, 1 $321,112 
 
 18.30, 2 781,010 
 
 1837, 3 10,141,806 Suspension. 
 
 1840, 3 14 379,255 Liquidation. 
 
 1843, 1 1,. 500,000 Bank of Mobile. 
 
 1851, 1 1,.500,000 Free banking law. 
 
 1857, 4 2,297,800 Suspension. 
 
 1860, 8 4,901,000 
 
 Virginia chartered a bank as early as 1804 
 for 53 years, the Bank of Virginia, capital 
 Sl,.500",000, since enlarged. In 1830 there 
 were four banks, and the change w.as not great 
 down to 185 1 , when the free law was adopled, 
 but the charters, of the old banks were re- 
 newed as they expired. The course of 
 events was as follows : — 
 
 No. Branches. Capital. 
 
 $5,112,192 
 
 5,571,181 
 
 6.732,500 Suspension. 
 
 7,458,248 
 10,363,362 
 
 9,731,370 Free banking law. 
 14,651,600 Suspension. 
 16,005,156 
 
 1819, 3 
 
 1830, 4 18 
 
 1837, 5 18 
 
 1839, 5 20 
 
 1840, 6 
 1851, 6 20 
 1857, 22 40 
 18C0, 24 41 
 
 North Carolina began her tiank career in 
 1804, in granting u charter for $250,000 
 capital. From that time the number and 
 amount of capital steadily increased, with- 
 out any material deviation from a steady 
 course, until 18G0, as follows : — 
 
 Suspension. 
 
 South Carolina was more variable in its 
 banking movement. Its first institution 
 was the State Bank. In 1820 the capital 
 was pledged as security for the state debt, 
 and it became a regular bank. The progress 
 of the state to 1860 was as follows : — 
 
 
 No. 
 
 Branches. 
 
 Capital. 
 
 1810, 
 
 3 
 
 
 82,964,887 
 
 1830, 
 
 3 
 
 
 3,195,0ii0 
 
 1837, 
 
 3 
 
 7 
 
 2,880,590 
 
 1850, 
 
 3 
 
 42 
 
 3,789,250 
 
 1860, 
 
 12 
 
 • 18 
 
 6,526,488 
 
 1792, 
 1711, 
 1820, 
 1836, 
 1837, 
 1839, 
 1850, 
 1860, 
 
 No. 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 3 
 10 
 
 4 
 11 
 14 
 20 
 
 Capital. 
 $675,000 
 3,475,000 
 2,474,000 
 8,636,118 
 4,100,000 
 9,1.53,498 
 13,179,131 
 962,062 
 
 Suspension. 
 Eisht new charters 
 
 Georgia had a regular supply of banks 
 after the expiration of the first United States 
 Bank in 1811, when she chartered an insti- 
 tution with $215,000 capital. In 1820 this 
 had increased to four banks, with a capital 
 of $a,40I,510, and the progress to 1860, 
 was as follows : — 
 
 No. Capital. 
 
 1811, 1 $215,000 Old U. S. Bank expired. 
 
 1816, 3 1,502,000 New " chartered. 
 
 1820, 4 3,401,510 
 
 1833, 13 6,.534,691 Deposits removed. 
 
 1837, 16 11,438,828 Suspension. 
 
 1840, 39 15,098,694 
 
 1846, 22 8,970,789 
 
 1857, 30 16,015,256 Suspension. 
 
 1860, 20 16,689,560 
 
BANKS OF THE UNITED STATES CLEARING HOUSES PRIVATE BANKING. 
 
 209 
 
 I District of Columbia banks were estab- 
 ished as early as 171)2, in the district, and 
 ncreased pretty rapidly, as follows : — 
 
 
 No. 
 
 Capital. 
 
 1792, 
 
 1 
 
 $5(10,000 
 
 1802, 
 
 2 
 
 1,500,000 
 
 1811, 
 
 4 
 
 2,3 11,395 
 
 1815, 
 
 10 
 
 4,078,295 
 
 1820, 
 
 13 
 
 5,525,319 
 
 18:iO, 
 
 9 
 
 3,879,574 
 
 1837, 
 
 7 
 
 2,204,445 
 
 1844, 
 
 6 
 
 1,649,280 
 
 Most of the charters expired, and not 
 aeing renewed, the concerns gradually went 
 into liquidation. 
 
 1 Florida came into the Union in 1845, with 
 t load of five banks that had been chartered 
 iy the territory in 1838. with an aggregate 
 •a|iital of $2,113,000. These were mostly 
 used upon $3,500,000 territorial bonds, 
 ssued to the banks for capital, and sold in 
 London. The concerns filled almost as soon 
 lis they got the money, and went into liqui- 
 iation, when the state repudiated the bonds, 
 
 and there were no banks in Florida, until 
 1860, when two were started, with $300,000 
 capital. 
 
 From this sketch of banking in each state, 
 it is to be observed that the creation of banks 
 has been due more to the desire to borrow 
 money through their operation than to lend 
 it. The mistaken idea that they cnuld sup- 
 ply capital, was the temptation to their cre- 
 ation, and disastrous failure everywhere at- 
 tended the experiment. Gradually a prin- 
 ciple of sound banking vindicated itself amid 
 numerous disasters, and actual capital came 
 to be employed in the business. 
 
 791, 
 
 800, 
 811, 
 
 815, 
 816, 
 820, 
 830, 
 837, 
 1840, 
 843, 
 846, 
 i854, 
 '.S57, 
 .860, 
 J 863, 
 
 BANK! 
 
 No. 
 
 3 
 
 32 
 
 89 
 
 208 
 
 246 
 
 308 
 
 330 
 
 634 
 
 901 
 
 691 
 
 707 
 
 1,208 
 
 1,416 
 
 1,562 
 
 1,466 
 
 OF ALL THE 
 
 Capital. 
 
 $2,000,000 
 
 23,550,000 
 
 52,601,601 
 
 82,259,590 
 
 89,822,422 
 
 137,110,611 
 
 145,192.263 
 
 290,772,091 
 
 358,442.692 
 
 228,861,948 
 
 19B, 894,309 
 
 301,376,071 
 
 370,834,686 
 
 421,880,095 
 
 405,045,829 
 
 UNITED STATES — TOTAL 
 Loans. Circulatioa. 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 BANKS or THE UNITED STATES— CLEAR- 
 ING HOUSES— PRIVATE BANKING. 
 
 Having sketched the course of events in 
 each state, we may recapitulate the leading 
 features of all the state banks : — 
 
 OF rilPOKTS AND EXPORTS — POPULATION. 
 
 Specie. Deposits. Imports & Exports. Population. 
 
 200,451.214 
 525,115,702 
 462,896,523 
 254.544,937 
 312.114.404 
 557,397,779 
 684,456,889 
 691,945,580 
 648,601,863 
 
 $28,100,000 
 
 45,500,000 
 
 68,000,000 
 
 44,863,344 
 
 61,323,898 
 
 149,18.1,890 
 
 106,968,572 
 
 58,563,608 
 
 105,552,427 
 
 204,689,207 
 
 214,778,822 
 
 207,102,477 
 
 238,677,208 
 
 $15,400,000 
 17,000,000 
 19,000,000 
 19,820,240 
 22,114,917 
 37,915,340 
 33,105,155 
 33,515,805 
 42,012,095 
 59.410,353 
 58,349,838 
 83,594,537 
 
 101,227,367 
 
 $35,950,470 
 
 55,559,928 
 
 127,397,185 
 
 75,686,857 
 
 56,168,628 
 
 96,913.070 
 
 188,188,744 
 
 2.30,351,352 
 
 253,802,129 
 
 ■393,686,126 
 
 $48,212,041 
 162,224,548 
 144,716,833 
 165,599,027 
 229,024,452 
 144,141,669 
 144.726,428 
 258,408,593 
 2.19,227,465 
 149,100,279 
 235,180,313 
 582,803.445 
 723,850,821 
 854,500,000 
 594,097,040 
 
 3,929,827 
 
 5,305.925 
 
 7,449,960 
 
 8,353,338 
 
 8,595,806 
 
 9,638,131 
 
 12.866,020 
 
 15,681,467 
 
 17,069,453 
 
 18,713,479 
 
 20,51.5,871 
 
 26.051,890 
 
 28,406,974 
 
 31,443,321 
 
 34,478,633 
 
 j This table shows the number of banks, 
 kith their aggregate capital, at important 
 eras. As in 1701, when the national bank 
 ■ind mint went into operation ; 181 1, when 
 ihe bank charter expired; 1815, when the 
 tiumerous banks that had sprung into being 
 'sn the dissolution of the National Bank, were 
 |ill suspended; in 1816, when the peace, 
 bringing with it large imports of goods, and 
 i heavy drain of specie to Europe and Asia, 
 increased the confusion and aided the re- 
 3stablishment of a national bank ; 1820, 
 when that bank, in full operation, was stag- 
 herring under adverse exchanges and the ope- 
 ration of local banks ; 1830, when five years 
 jf successful working, after the revulsion of 
 1825, and under a high tariff, had given con- 
 Sdence to the public ; 1837, when the rivalry 
 between the state and the national banks 
 13 • 
 
 had, aided by the state of affairs in Europe, 
 stimulated speculation, which resulted in the 
 revulsion of that year; 1840, when the 
 number of banks had reached the highest 
 point, under efforts to restore prosperity 
 by paper credits ; 1843, the lowest point of 
 depression after the failure of those efforts, 
 and the liquidation of the unsound banks ; 
 1846, when the bank capital was at a low 
 point, but bank credits had begun to multiply 
 under the effects of the famine abroad ; 1 854, 
 when the gold discoveries had prompted the 
 creation of five hundred new banks ; the 
 panic period of 1857 ; the partial restora- 
 tion of 1860 ; and the contraction and gen- 
 eral upheaval in all financial operations pro- 
 duced by two years of war, in 1863. 
 
 The mere fisfures, showing the magnitude 
 of the bank movement, do not indicate the 
 
210 
 
 BANKS IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 changes in the manner of doing business, nor 
 do they indicate any unsafe expansion, except 
 as in connection with the business they 
 represent. Thus, in 1837, the bank loans 
 were $525,000,000, and their circuhition 
 $149,000,000. Events proved that those 
 loans were of the most speculative and un- 
 safe character. In 18G0, the loans were 
 $691,900,000, and the circulation $207,000,- 
 000. Yet these larger figures were very far 
 from being excessive. They represent but 
 $6 circulation per head of the people, while 
 that of 1837 was nearly SlO per head. The 
 imports and exports, were, in 1837, but half 
 the amount of bank loans. In 1860 ihey 
 exceeded the amount of bank loans, but 
 in 1803 were fifty-four million less. It is 
 thus evident, that the larger sum of bank 
 loans represents actual business, while those 
 of 1837 represented only speculative values. 
 This fact of the nature of loans made is the 
 key to sound banking. It is a matter which 
 depends upon the judgment and skill of the 
 banker, and it cannot be regulated by law. 
 Hence the futility of all tlie laws that have 
 been devised to prevent banks from breaking. 
 Jt is to be remembered, that the bank loans 
 form but a portion of the credits which are 
 the great purchasing jiowcr in trade. Almost 
 all the wholesale business of the country is 
 done with the notes of individuals, running 
 for a longer or less time. These are entirely 
 independent of law or banks. In a time of 
 great mercantile confidence and speculative 
 activity, business men are disposed to buy 
 on credit, and their competition for produce 
 and merchandise causes a rise in prices. This 
 rise stimulates greater activity, which reacts 
 upon prices until revulsion is brought about. 
 The agency which the banks have in this 
 matter is to discount a portion of the notes 
 which a dealer takes in exchange for the mer- 
 chandise he sells. The bank in discounting 
 does not actually lend any money. It 
 merely operates a canceling of credits by 
 book accounts. Thus, a merchant buys goods 
 and gives his note at six months. He then 
 deposits what money he receives in the 
 course of business to await the maturity of 
 the note. As the period approaches, ho finds 
 that he has not money enough, but he has in 
 his pocket-book a number of notes that he 
 has taken for goods. These he takes to the 
 bank and ofl'ers as collateral security for his 
 own note, that he offers fi>r discount. The 
 bank making the discount places the amount 
 to his credit. He draws a check against that 
 
 credit in favor of the note he has to pay, and 
 the two entries cancel each other. There 
 has been no money used, but one kind of 
 promise has supplanted another. As the 
 crops come forward from the country, the 
 drafts drawn against them pay the notes held 
 by the merchant and lodged as collateral. 
 Dcarness or scarcity of money in the market 
 depends mainly upon the disposition of the 
 banks to facilitate the canceling of credits, 
 and in this the institution affects to be gov- 
 erned by the state of the foreign trade. If 
 the disposition to buy goods has been very 
 active and prices are consequently so high as 
 to pay good profits on imports, the arrivals 
 of merchandise will be large and the exports 
 proportionablv small. This involves a demand 
 for specie which the banks avoid, by refusing 
 to come under new obligations. A competi- 
 tion in curtailment sets in. The bank that 
 curtails the most rapidly will have the 
 balances in its favor from the other banks, 
 and will command their specie. Each en- 
 deavors to attain such a position. The pres- 
 sure becomes great, the public alarmed, and 
 individual depositors draw their specie, which 
 exhausts the banks, and they stop. This was 
 the state of affairs in 1857. 
 
 The general tendency of the banks has 
 been, under the teachings of experience, to 
 equalize balances and to insist on prompt 
 payment. In the case of circulation this was 
 done in New England by the Suffolk system, 
 and in New York and most other states by 
 the free law. which required a deposit of state 
 stocks of dollar for dollar of the circulation. 
 It is obvious, however, that these regulations 
 in no degree affect discounts and those ope- 
 rations where circulation is not in question ; 
 as in the checks of individuals, by which a 
 large portion of credits are transferred. In 
 New York city there were about 60 banks, 
 each of wliich received checks on all the other 
 oaiiks, and had cheeks drawn u)ion it in favor 
 of all others. There were also drafts and bills 
 from abroa<l, constaidy coming to each 
 to be paid by others. Up to 1853, all 
 the banks emidoyed each a man to go round 
 and collect all these checks and drafts each 
 day. and each bank kept fifty accoimts open. 
 To obviate this and to enforce settlement, 
 the " clearing house " was devised. By this 
 system, each hank sends thither every day a 
 clerk, with all the demands it has against all 
 other banks. The fifty or sixty clerks as- 
 sembled make a mutual exchange of all 
 claims, and the balance, if any, is struck, and 
 
bANKS OF THE UNITED STATES CLEARING HOUSES — PRIVATE BANKING. 211 
 
 each bank pays iu cash the amount of that 
 balance. The amount of accounts depends 
 upon the activitj' of business. The clearing 
 house commenced in Oct, 1853, and its ope- 
 rations have been as follows : — 
 
 
 Amount Exchanged. 
 
 Balances Paid. 
 
 1854, 
 
 5,750,435,987 
 
 297.411,493 
 
 1856, 
 
 6,906,213.328 
 
 3.34,714,489 
 
 1858, 
 
 4,756,064,386 
 
 314,238,910 
 
 1800, 
 
 7,231,143,057 
 
 351,000,000 
 
 I'^Gi, 
 
 6,871,443,591 
 
 415,530,331 
 
 1864, 
 
 24,' 97,196,656 
 
 885,719,205 
 
 1866, 
 
 28,717,146,914 
 
 1,066,135,106 
 
 1868, 
 
 2.-i,4S4,288,037 
 
 1,125,455,237 
 
 H70, 
 
 27,804,539,406 
 
 1,036,484,822 
 
 The emergencies of the war required the 
 is>ne of demand notes by the Government, 
 of small denominations to serve for circula- 
 tion, as well as the putting forth of bonds, 
 treasury notes, and loans of various kinds. 
 At fii>t these demand notes were the equiva- 
 lent of gold and silver, and were receivable 
 in payment of customs duties, as well as all 
 other moneys due to the United States ; but 
 the gradual advance in the price of gold made 
 them so valual)le as to take them out of the 
 circulation, and cause them to be hoarded as 
 gold. Congress then authorized the issue 
 of legal-tender notes of small denomina- 
 tions, receivable for the p.ayment of all dues 
 to the Unites States except customs, which 
 must be paid in gold, the coin being needed 
 to pay the interest on that portion of the 
 national debt upon which interest in gold 
 was guaranteed. (Jf these legal tender notes, 
 or yrcenbacks, S4.0O,OOU,OOO were issued, and 
 on the 1st of December, 1871, there was 
 outstanding only $357,592,801. Beside 
 this. Congress authorized the issue of postal 
 and fractional currency to the extent of 
 $50,000,01)0, but the amount issued never 
 exceeded $45,000,000, and was, December 
 1, 1871, only $40,166,03(5. From our brief 
 review of the condition of the banks in the 
 various states, from 1860 to 1863, it will be 
 apparent that they were rapidly approach- 
 ing a crisis, their issues being very generally 
 distrusted and the discounts on them so per- 
 plexing and ruinous to the holders that every 
 one who could, fhunned them. The issue 
 of legal-tender notes and fractional currency, 
 while it was absolutely necessary to the ex- 
 istence and efficiency of the National Gov- 
 ernment, in the great war it was conducting, 
 was seen by the great financiers who were 
 managing the nation's finances, to be but a 
 temporary expedient, and liable to the seri- 
 ous objection, as a permanent currency, of 
 
 expanding most when it should be contract- 
 ed and least, when expansion was necessary. 
 But a national currency was needed ; for the 
 people would not go back to the old uncurr 
 rent money and the mysteries of the coun- 
 terfeit detectors and uncurrent money lists, 
 the banks of the country could not issue notes 
 which would inspire general confidence. The 
 national banking system devised by Mr. 
 Chase, then Secretary of the Treasury, and 
 based in its main features upon the New 
 York Free Banking law, though with addi- 
 tional safeguards for depositors and bill hold- 
 ers, satisfied this demand fully, and at the 
 same time furnished a home market for 
 $300,000,000 or more of the bonds and 
 Treasury notes the Government was then 
 issuing. The capital of the National Banks 
 consisted of these Bonds, Treasury Notes, 
 &c., and these being deposited in tlie U. S. 
 Treasury, the Controller of the currency is- 
 sued to the banks, National Bank notes of 
 different denominations (printed from the 
 same plates, but with the name and place of 
 the bank and the coat of arms of the state 
 to which it belonged inserted.) to the amount 
 of not more than ninety per cent, of the par 
 value of the bonds. The amount of circu- 
 lation was at first limited to $300,000,000, 
 but in July, 1870, an additional amount of 
 $50,000,000 was permitted. Minor modi- 
 fications of the original law have been madei 
 providing for rigid and frequent inspection 
 of the condition of each bank, redemption 
 in New York city, and avoiding all depreci- 
 ation of the notes. At first the development 
 of the National Banks was slow, as their 
 advantages were not appreciated, and the 
 state and local banks made a very bitteif 
 fight against them, but Congress passed in 
 1865, an amendment to the Internal Reve- 
 nue Law taxing the circulation of the st.ate 
 banks so heavily that they were glad to with- 
 draw it from the market and most of them 
 reorganized as Nation.al Banks, which from 
 this time had a ra])id growth. 
 
 The following Table shows the progress 
 of the National Banks : 
 
 Oct. 
 
 Tear. 
 , 1863, 
 1864, 
 1865, 
 1866, 
 1867, 
 1868, 
 1809, 
 1870, 
 1871, 
 
 No. of Banks. 
 66 
 507 
 1,513 
 1 ,643 
 1,643 
 1,645 
 1,617 
 1,615 
 1,784 
 
 Capital. 
 $7,188,393 
 86,782,802 
 393,157,206 
 415,278,969 
 420,073,415 
 420,634,511 
 426,399,151 
 430,399,301 
 462,518,602 
 
 Circulation. 
 
 45,260,504 
 171,321,903 
 280,129,559 
 293,887,941 
 295,769,489 
 293,593, 64^ 
 291,798,640 
 322,952,030 
 
212 
 
 BANKS. 
 
 The following Table, giving the condi- 
 tion in several particulars of the National 
 
 Banks, Sept. 30, 1871, is of interest in this 
 connection. It is official. 
 
 Statement showing the numhpr of Banks, amount of capital, amount of bonds deposited, and circulation, in each 
 Staie and Teriitory, on the 30th day of Hcptemher, 1871. 
 
 States and 
 
 Territories. In operation. Capital paid in. Bonds on deposit. Circulation issued. In actual circulation. 
 
 Maine, 61 $9,12.^,UU0 OJ It;8,:i99,i!r)0 $8,414,346 $7,538 6110.00 
 
 New Hampshire,... 42 4,889,U00.00 4,919,000 4,835,845 4,341,695.00 
 
 Vermont 41 7,910,012 50 7,271,400 7,191,350 6,468,720.00 
 
 Massachusetts, 207 88,072,000.00 6.-.,61 6,750 68,233,960 57,480,866.00 
 
 Rhode Island 62 20,364,800.00 14,851,400 15.081,565 13,236,805,00 
 
 Connecticut, 81 25,0.")6, 820.00 20,078,400 20,443,410 17,800,455.10 
 
 New York, 291 113,140,741.00 73,545,900 83,960,388 64,018,348.(0 
 
 New Jersey, 57 12,580,3.50.00 11,371,850 11,42.',575 10,032,52000 
 
 Pennsylvania, 198 51,7,-0,240 00 45,731,750 46,537,610 40,357,046.00 
 
 Maryland, 32 13,590,202.50 10,296,750 10,789,210 9,181,306.00 
 
 Delaware 11 1,528,185.00 1,4.53,200 1,477,875 1,303,47500 
 
 District of Columbia, 3 1,350,000 00 1,234,000 1,471,800 1,081,570.00 
 
 Virginia, 23 3,870,00000 3,711,.500 3,481,880 3,312,400.00 
 
 Weat Virginia, 17 2,621,000.00 2,504,750 2,452,540 2,175,54000 
 
 Ohio, 130 24,349,700.00 21,401,400 22,357,655 19,.138,976.00 
 
 Indiana 75 15,032000.00 14,.3.33,300 14,095,465 12,524,942.00 
 
 Illinois, 115 17,128,000.00 15,527,200 15,245,550 13,722,82500 
 
 Michigan 61 7,263,800.00 5,896,300 5,909,210 5,310,360.00 
 
 Wisconsin, 41 3,400,ii0000 3,314,550 3,359,650 3,083,257 00 
 
 Iowa 60 4,997,7.50.00 4,764,000 5,146,875 4,452,999 00 
 
 Minnesota, 23 2,432,025.00 2,413,000 2,325,500 2,104,600.00 
 
 Kansas 12 850,000.00 785,000 741,800 649,600.00 
 
 Missouri, 30 8,895,300.00 6,191,750 6,401,670 5,679,718.00 
 
 Kentucky 29 6.168,240.60 5,625 150 5,350,510 5,071,730.00 
 
 Tennessee 19 2,817,300.00 2.706,150 2,656,170 2,443,171.00. 
 
 Louisiana 6 3,500,000.00 2,858,000 2,813,020 2,555.489.00 
 
 Mississippi 1 100,000,00 80,000 66,000 33,776.00 
 
 Nebraska 5 650,000.00 640,000 581,100 561,50000 
 
 Colorado 4 400,000.00 404,000 383,490 358,990.00 
 
 Geor-'ia 10 2,384,400.00 2,156,400 2,041,300 1,942,743.00 
 
 North Carolina 9 1.560,000.00 1,515,100 1,385,300 1,362,300.00 
 
 South Carolina, 7 1,895,160 00 1,380,000 1,245,340 1,240,1.50 00 
 
 Alabama, 8 916,275 00 842,150 884,100 768,783.00 
 
 Nevada 1 2500110.00 100,000 146,200 72,486.00 
 
 Oregon 1 250,000 00 250,000 136,000 135,000.00 
 
 Texas 5 625,000.00 £25,000 648,300 557,500.00 
 
 Arkansas 2 200,000.00 200,000 192,500 180,000.00 
 
 Utah 1 250,000.00 150,000 176,520 132.281.00 
 
 Montana, 1 loo, 000.00 100,000 90,000 90,000.00 
 
 Id.iho 1 100,000.00 100,000 94,.300 89,500.00 
 
 Wyoming 1 75,000.00 30.000 27,000 27,000.00 
 
 New Mexico 1 150,000.00 150,000 135,000 135,000.00 
 
 Fractional redemption, . . 8 20 
 
 Total, 1,784 462,518,601.60 365,444,350 380,609,879 322,952,030.20 
 
 There are two National Gold Banks in existence, as follows : 
 
 Gold Banks. Capital. Gold on Deposit. Gold Notes Issued. Circulation. 
 
 Ma.ssachusetts 1 300,000.00 150,000 120,000 120,000.00 
 
 California, I l.(X)0,000.00 500,000 375,000 375,000.00 
 
 Total 2 1,300,000.00 650,000 495,000 495,000.00 
 
 There were in the United States in May, 
 1871, 3.J2 chartered banks (not National) 
 but working under special charters. None 
 of them were, of course, banks of circulation, 
 but only of discount and deposit. Their 
 aggregate capital was, at that date, about 
 
 $93,000,000. There has been also a great 
 increase of private banking houses, and 
 some of these having extensive foreign con- 
 nections and employing a larger capital than 
 any National bank, do an extensive busi- 
 ness. 
 
.--. ~^^-i;,¥:S-^"SSSSS; 1 Ills. -,>> ■ ^^^^-^-^ . 
 
 LVTERIOB VIEW OF THE MINT, I'lil-ADEH-UIA, ADJUSilNU UUUM, 
 
UiNlTED STATES MINT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ESTABLISHMENT OF MINT— STANDARD OF 
 COINS— LAWS REGULATING COINAGE- 
 PROGRESS OF COIXAGE— PRECIOUS MET- 
 ALS IN THE COUNTRY. 
 
 The currency, or circulating medium of 
 a country, is of itself a very simple matter, 
 althouijh complicated at times by the theo- 
 ries of financiers, and the efforts to make 
 promises of a thing pass for the thing it- 
 self. In the early stages of society the pro- 
 ducts of industry cou.stitute the wealth of 
 the people, after they have ceased to be 
 merely herdsmen. These products being 
 exdiangod against each other, the transac- 
 tions form barter trade. As wealth in- 
 creases and wants become more diversified, 
 as well as the products of industry, by being 
 subdivided, some common medium of value 
 becomes requisite to meet all the wants of 
 interchange. The precious metals have gen- 
 erally been adopted as this medium, because 
 the supply is the most steady, the equivalent 
 value most generally known, and the trans- 
 portation mt)st convenient. Hence all trade 
 comes to be represented by a weight of pure 
 gold or its equivalent of pure silver, and all 
 commodities come to be valued, or called 
 equivalent, to certain quantities of these 
 metals. To ascertain the purity and weight 
 of the metal offered in payment at each 
 transaction would, however, involve diflicul- 
 ties that would neutralize the value of the 
 metals as a common medium of exchange. 
 Every man would require to be an assayer, 
 and to be provided with scales. To obviate 
 this the government stops in, and by means 
 of a mint assays the metals, and weighs 
 them iuto convenient pieces, placing on each 
 a stamp, which soon becomes universally 
 known, and this is called "money." Every 
 nation makes the pieces of different weights, 
 and puts in more or less pure metal. To as- 
 certain the "par'of exchange" between two 
 
 countries, the coin of each is assayed, and 
 the quantity of pure metal in each being 
 ascertained, tlic par of exchange is known. 
 When this continent was discovered, its in- 
 liabitants were savages, who had no idea of 
 property, and no trade beyond the mere ex- 
 change of, perhaps, a skin for a bow or a 
 bunch of arrows. Money was unknown, 
 and the value of the precious metals was not 
 understood. The little gold and copper that 
 they had was twisted into rude ornaments; 
 but no man would work for a piece of these 
 metals. When the first emigrants landed, 
 they commenced the cultivation ot the earth 
 and the interchange of its products. The ac- 
 cumulation of industrial products formed 
 wealth. Their first exchanges were mere 
 barter. As late as 1652 the payment of 
 taxes and other dues was made in cattle, 
 skins, and other products in Massachusetts ; 
 and tobacco was a medium of trade in Vir- 
 ginia. Some money existed, but this was 
 mostly the coins brought by the immigrants 
 from the mother country, and did not suffice 
 for the daily wants. Massachusetts, there- 
 fore, established a mint for the coinage of 
 shillings, sixpences, and threepences of ster- 
 ling silver, which were " two pence in the 
 shilling of less valew than the English 
 coyne." This " pine tree shilling," so called 
 from a pine tree on the reverse, was worth 
 about twenty cents. This coinage gave 
 umbrage to the mother country, and when 
 Governor Winslow was introduced to 
 Charles H., that usually good-natured mon- 
 arch took him roughly to task for the pre- 
 sumption of the colony in assuming to coin 
 money, at the same time producing the coin 
 with the pine tree upon it. The ready wit 
 of the governor, however, turned the rebuke, 
 by assuring his Majesty that it was an evi- 
 dence of the devotion of the colony, which 
 struck these medals in commemoration of 
 the escape of his Majesty in the Royal Oak, 
 which was executed as well as the poor state 
 of the arts in the colony would permit. The 
 
214 
 
 UNITED STATES MINT. 
 
 coinage was ncvcrtlieless suppressed, and the 
 example of Massachusets was followed Ly 
 Maryland with the like results. Carolina 
 and Virginia struck some copper coins, hut 
 without much cftect. There being no mint, 
 therefore, in any of the colonies, foreign coins 
 were circulated freely as a legal tender. The 
 country produced none of tlie precious 
 metals, but as the trade of the colonies in- 
 creased, and tliey began to have a surplus of 
 fish, provisions, food, tobacco, etc., beyond 
 their own wants, to sell, they built vessels, 
 and carried these articles, mostly fish, to the 
 West Indies and the catholic countries of 
 Europe ; and as the mother country did not 
 allow the colonics to buy manufactures ex- 
 cept from herself, money was mostly had in 
 exchange for this produce. Guineas, joes, 
 half joes, doubloons, and pistoles of various 
 origin constituted the gold currency, while 
 the silver was mostly the Spanish American 
 dollar and its fractions : the half, quarter, 
 eighth, and sixteenth, with the pistareen and 
 half pistareen. This silver coin flowed into 
 the colonics from the Spanish West Indies, 
 in exchange for fish and food ; and the 
 Spanish dollar thus^ came to be the best 
 known and most generally adopted unit of 
 money. The coin had upon its reverse the 
 pillars of Hercules, and was known as the 
 pillar dollar ; hence the dollar mark (^), whicli 
 represents " S," for " Spanish," entwining the 
 pillars. Inasmuch as the " balance of 
 trade" was in favor of England, the largest 
 portion of tlie coin that flowed in from other 
 quarters was .sent thither, and this tendency 
 was increased by the pernicious issues of 
 paper money by the colonies. This paper 
 displaced the coin, and drove it all out of the 
 countr}'. The exigencies of the several 
 colonial governments caused them to make 
 excessive issues of this " paper" or " bills of 
 credit," and it fell to a lieavy discount as 
 compared with coin. Not being convertible 
 at the date of the Revolution the deprecia- 
 tion in the several colonies was nearly as 
 follows : — 
 
 VALUE OF TUB DOLLAR AND THK £ STERLING IN 
 COLONIAL PAPER MONET. 
 
 £ sterling:. Dollar. 
 
 £. 8. (1. s. d. 
 
 New England and Virpinia ... 1 G 8 GO 
 
 New York and North-eastern .115 6! 8 
 
 Middle states 1 13 4 7 6 
 
 South Carolina and Georgia. . . 1 8| 4 8 
 
 On the formation of the new government, 
 the terrible state of tlie currency first attract- 
 
 ed attention. The country had been flooded 
 with " continental money," which had been 
 issued to the extent of three hundred and 
 sixty millions for war expenses. The states 
 had issued " bills of credit," which were de- 
 preciated as in the table ; and the debased 
 and diversified foreign coins that circulated 
 were very few in number. Private credit 
 hardly existed. Frightful jobbing took 
 place in the government paper, and industry 
 could with difficulty get its proper reward. 
 The first efl'ort was to give the federal gov- 
 ernment alone the right to coin money, to 
 prohibit the states fn>m ife.suing any more 
 " bills of credit," and to get the continental 
 money out of circulation by providing for 
 its payment. Ilobert Morris had been di- 
 rected to report upon the mint and a system 
 of coin.agc, and he did so early in 1782. 
 Many plans were based upon his report, and 
 finally that of Mr. Jefl'erson was adopted. 
 It conformed to the decimal notation, with 
 the Spanish dollar as the unit : A gold piece 
 of ten dollars, to bo called the eagle, with 
 its half and quarter ; a dollar in silver ; a 
 tenth of a dollar in silver ; a hundredth of a 
 dollar in copper. 
 
 In accordance with the plan of Mr. Jeffer- 
 son, a law of April 2, 1792, enacted regula- 
 tions for a mint, located at riiiladelphia, and 
 the coinage proceeded. It was found that, 
 owing to the rise in the value of copper, the 
 cent had been made too heavy, and, Janu- 
 ary 14, 1790, it was reduced to two hundred 
 and eight grains, and January 26, 1790, it 
 was again reduced to one liundred and sixty- 
 eight grains, at which rate it remained until 
 the late intr'xlnctiun of nickle. Tlie mint 
 being established at Philadelphia, the work 
 of coinage went on slowly, for two principal 
 reasons. The first was that the material for 
 coin — that is, gold and silver, no matter in 
 what shape it may bo — was obtained only, by 
 the operation of trade, from abroad, and 
 nearly all of it arrived at New York, the 
 property of merchants. Now, although the 
 government charged nothing for coining, 
 yet, to send the metal from New York to 
 Philadelphia during the first forty years 
 of the government, when there was none but 
 wagon conveyance, was expensive, and ac- 
 companied with some risk. It was not, 
 therefore, to be expected that the merchants 
 would undertake this without any benefit ; 
 the more so, as the same law, in the second 
 place, still allowed the foreign coins to be 
 legal tender. The merchant who received, 
 
UNITED STATES MINT. 
 
 215 
 
 say ten thousand dollars in gold coin at 
 New York had only to lodge that coin in the 
 local bank, and use the paper money issued 
 by the bank. There was no necessity to 
 send the coin to Philadelphia merely to be 
 recoined without profit. It was also the 
 case that iu the course of the newly devel- 
 oped commerce between the United States 
 and the couutries of Europe, it was found 
 that silver had been valued too high at the 
 mint. It was coined in the ratio of fifteen 
 to one of gold, when its real value was near- 
 er sixteen to one. This relative value of the 
 two metals depends upon the respective de- 
 mand and supply ia the markets of the 
 world. At about the date of the discovery 
 of America it was ten to one ; that is, ten 
 ounces of pure silver were equal to one 
 ounce of pure gold. When Peru and Span- 
 ish America poured in their large supplies 
 of silver, the rate gradually fell to fifteen to 
 one. At the close of the eighteenth centu- 
 ry, and with the greater freedom of com- 
 merce in the first half of the nineteenth cen- 
 tury, it was found still to decline. The 
 reason of this is obvious, since, in any local- 
 ity, the relative value of the metals will be 
 proportioned to the local supply of either, 
 influenced by the expense of sending either 
 to other localities. Thus, silver may have 
 been really fourteen to one in one place, and 
 sixteen to one in another, and the ditHcul- 
 ties of transportation prevented an equaliza- 
 tion. As soon as communication became 
 prompt and cheap the equalization took 
 place, and the general relative value was 
 found to be somewhat changed. The effect 
 of this was tliat silver came here and gold 
 went away. Nearly all the coinage of the 
 mint was silver. Tins evil attracted the at- 
 tention of the government, and a remedy 
 was sought. This was finally found in 
 changing the relative value of the silver to 
 gold in the coinage by simply putting less 
 pure gold into the eagle, and letting the 
 silver remain as it was. The quantity of 
 pure gold in the eagle was, therefore, by the 
 law of June 28, 1834, reduced from 247.5 
 grains to 232 grains, or rather more than 
 six and five-eighths per cent, and the quan- 
 tity of alloy was slightly increased, so as to 
 make the fineness of the gold nine-tenths, 
 or nine grains of fine gold to one of alloy in 
 each piece. 
 
 This was found not to be exact, and in 
 1837 the pure gold was slightly increased, 
 and this regulation remains. Under all 
 
 the laws the gold coins have been as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 Fine- 
 ness. 
 
 ^",7 Alloy. Total Total 
 
 ,!;^L «"-- -^PP"- Alloy. ^^ 
 
 1192, 247.5 5.G2i 16.87^ 22.5 270 916.7 
 
 \SM, 232.0 6.50 ' 19.50 26.0 25S S99.2 
 
 1837, 232.2 6.45 19.35 25.8 258 900.0 
 
 These proportions remain now the same 
 for gold. In order to bring the silver to the 
 same standard, the law of 1837 reduced the 
 alloy in dollars three and a half grains, mak- 
 ing the dollar weigh 412 1-2 grains instead 
 of 41G. 
 
 In all this period, up to 1838, there had 
 been bat one mint, and that at rhiladclphia. 
 In 1831, under the desire of the government 
 to enlarge the metallic basis of the national 
 currency, three branches were authorized, 
 one at New Orleans, one at Charlotte, North 
 Carolina, and one at Dahlonega, Georgia. 
 These two latter were in mining districts, 
 where gold began to be produced to some 
 extent, and all three went into operation in 
 
 1838. The coinage progressed down to 
 1853, when, in consequence of the change 
 brought about by the gold discoveries in 
 California, a new law in relation to the silvef 
 currency was enacted. Before giving an 
 account of that change, we may take a table 
 of the coinage at the mint since its organiza- 
 tion for several periods. 
 
 1791 to 1820, 
 10:^1 10 ma4, 
 
 UNITED 
 
 OoM. 
 7.431,545 
 4,3J4 -.US 
 
 STATES COINAGE. 
 
 Copper 
 Silver. and Niokel 
 10,'.IS0.431 4il,7;i6 
 ■25.^:il.«47 23f..7a3 
 
 Total. 
 18.833.771 
 29.945,78T 
 
 Total to 1834, 
 !m:u u. 18:t7. 
 ih:w t.> 1«48, 
 \Hi9lo 1H52, 
 lH.->3 to 1H60. 
 
 18B1 to laio, 
 
 11.825.»!K) 
 11,41:4.450 
 53.. ■!■«(, 965 
 G0,2U.:U5 
 3JI.377.'.Ol 
 38:i.-i-10.()IO 
 
 S6.2»5.078 
 12.560,115 
 ■24.251.7fi9 
 6,014.503 
 4fi. 318.9.56 
 18.47fi.7tO 
 
 144,0I2,U7 
 
 658.590 
 l:t7.323 
 5i:i.33S 
 311,207 
 1,030.347 
 8,473.235 
 
 48.779.558 
 24.121.888 
 78.195.570 
 166,567.031 
 498.790,80* 
 410,180,985 
 
 Tot.-il. 
 
 $S71,lOi>,lGl 
 
 U,223.03S 
 
 1,226, Ui,8fiS 
 
 In the first twenty-seven years of the mint 
 operation, the gold coinage was about seven- 
 ty-five per cent, of the silver coinage. That 
 whole period embraced the European war, 
 and the first operations of the mint were to 
 coin as much of the metals already in the 
 country as came within their reach. In the 
 second period, from 1821 to 1834, the oiTect 
 of the change in the relative value of the 
 metals of which we have spoken, became 
 manifest, and the gold coinage was about 
 one-sixth only of the silver coinage. In 
 1834 the new gold bill produced a change, 
 and the gold coinage became nearly equal to 
 that of silver. Soon after the passage of 
 this law, the payment of the French indem- 
 
216 
 
 UNITED STATES MINT. 
 
 nity, enforced under the administration of : 
 General Jackson, took place, and it was paid 
 in the form of gold bars, of weiglit varying 
 from twenty-five to six hundred and fifty 
 ounces each. The first of them were received 
 at the United States mint Septeml>er, 1834, 
 and from that date to September, 1838, six 
 liundred of these bars were deposited at tlie 
 mint; the value was Ci3,500,(j(JO. In 1838 
 the branches came into operation, and the 
 coinage was increased by their operations 
 and l>y 13,705,250 of gold of domestic jiro- 
 duction, to the close of 1848. In 1840 
 California gold began to make its appear- 
 ance, and $'7,079,144 worth of it was coined 
 in tliat year. The great influx of gold bul- 
 lion upon tlic mint by far exceeded its capac- 
 ity to do the work, and Congress author- 
 ized, by the act of March 3d, 1849, the coin- 
 age of doulile eagles, or S^20 pieces, and 
 also one dollar pieces to supply the place of 
 the silver coin, which had been drained off 
 to California in exchange for the gold, whicli 
 sold as low as $15 and 8lG per ounce, 
 although worth $20 and 821. The law of 
 May, 1852, autliorized the coinage of S3 
 pieces. 
 
 In ten years, to flic close of 1848, the 
 gold coinage had amounted to double the sil- 
 ver coinage, and tlie new influx of gold excited 
 fears that the value of siher woulil rise rap- 
 idly as compared with gold. From 1848 
 to 1857 the coinage of silver was very small, 
 while the domantl for it was large. To avoid 
 inconvenience from this cause, a new bill 
 was passed, to take effect April 1st, 1853. 
 By this bill it was enacted that gold or sil- 
 ver deposited with the mint, miglit be cast 
 into bars or ingots of pure metal, or standard 
 fineness, at the option of the depositor, with 
 a stamp designating the weight and fineness; 
 no pieces less than ten ounces shall be other 
 than of standard fineness ; the charge for 
 this is one-half per cent. Inasmuch as most 
 of the gold arrives at New York, efforts were 
 made to procure the establishment of a mint 
 at that point. Instead, however, of a mint, 
 an assay office was established there, and a 
 branch mint at San Francisco, in 1854. The 
 law allows the depositor to draw either bars 
 or coin in return, the description desired to 
 be stated at the time of the deposit. The 
 production of bars and coins under all these 
 regulations has been large, for gold as well 
 as silver. 
 
 Until the law of 1834, the quantity of 
 gold coin in circulation was not large. The 
 
 banks supplied so largo a quantity of smaU 
 bills as to fill the channels of circulation for 
 sums above a dollar, and under that amount 
 the circulation was almost altogether small 
 Spanish coins, which, being much depreci- 
 ated l)y wear and tear, passed for more than 
 their intrinsic value, and consequently flood- 
 ed the country, greatly infiucncing retaU 
 prices. This was particularly the case with 
 the pistarcens, wliich, up to 1827, were 
 taken at twenty cents, or five to the dollar, 
 although they were really worth but eighteen 
 and a half cents, consequently there was lit- 
 tle other change to be had. In consequence 
 of a report of the Mint Director of that year, 
 they were refused at more than seventeen 
 cents, and they very speedily disappeared 
 from circulation, and liave not now been 
 seen for more than 35 years. The quar- 
 ters continued to circulate at twenty-five 
 cents, although the average value was twen- 
 ty-three and a half cents ; the eighths were 
 taken at twelve and a half, although they 
 were worth only eleven and one-eighth ; the 
 sixteenth was taken at six and a quarter, 
 although wortli but five cents. It resulted 
 that these coins became very abundant, driv- 
 ing out the dimes and lialf dimes, and in 
 1843 the post-ofnce and the banks refusing 
 them altogether, they were supplanted by 
 the American coin, until the gold discover- 
 ies of 1848. After that event, owing to the 
 increased production of gold, and the fact 
 that some of the European states changed 
 their monetary policy, making silver the 
 sole standard of value, the latter metal be- 
 came worth more in market than its nominal 
 value in United States coin, and was gradu- 
 ally withdrawn from the currency, until, in 
 1852, silver coin became very scarce, and 
 there was not sufficient left in circulation for 
 the purposes of change. A premium of four 
 per cent, was paid for dollars and half dol- 
 lars for export, and the smaller coins com- 
 manded, in many cases, a still higher price, 
 for use among shop-keepers and small traders. 
 It was easy to see that, unless the weight of 
 our silver coin was reduced, there would 
 soon be none left in the countr}'. Already 
 the eating-houses and drinking saloons had 
 issued their tickets, or shinplaster tokens, in 
 place of coin ; and the poor, who purchased 
 the necessaries of life in small amounts, 
 were put to great inconvenience, or obliged 
 to submit to ruinous shaves upon their paper 
 money. To remedy these evils, Congress 
 passed the act of February 21st, 1853 (to 
 
UNITED STATE3 MINT. 
 
 217 
 
 take cflr<'ct the 1st of April following), au- 
 thorizing the coinage of lialf doUars, qnarter 
 dollars, d mes, and half dimes, weighing 
 less than the old coin, as follows : 
 
 
 Old coin. 
 
 New coin. 
 
 II !f dollar, jjrains. 
 
 ...200^:^ 
 
 192 
 
 QiiatiTdolUr, do.. 
 
 ...U«l8 
 
 9C 
 
 i me, do. . 
 
 
 3S 2 5 
 
 Uoii dime, do.. 
 
 19 1-.^ 
 
 The dolhiT was not changed, and the 
 weight (if ihat ]Mcce i.-i 412 1-2 grains, the 
 weight which it has borne since 18oG; this 
 
 Philadelphia. New Orleans. 
 I'icccs. Pieces. 
 
 PoI]ars 1,621,000 87.').OO0 
 
 Half dollars 14,323,1,30 12,566,000 
 
 tiiiartei- dollars . . . 23,089,430 2,348,000 
 
 Dimes 7,236,380 2,350,000 
 
 Hair dimes 13,826,130 4,660 000 
 
 3 cent pieces 4,222,230 720,000 
 
 64,318,300 23,519,000 
 
 In addition to this ^mall silver coin, there 
 has been coined .since ly49, $18,9UO,000 in 
 one dollar gold pieces. Thtse were never, 
 however, a popular coin. 
 
 The main ^ource of supply of the precious 
 metals to the mint was, before 1849, from 
 al)road, through the operations of conjmerce, 
 though the Southern States furnished almost 
 fifteen millions. Since that time, the Pacilic 
 slope has been the leading .-ouree. The quan- 
 tity of domestic gold deposited at the mint 
 has been as follows : 
 
 DEPOSITS OF D0M:;STIC gold at SnST AND DRA.VCHES. 
 
 To 1851. 1851 to 1859. To 1870. 
 
 Virginia. 1,197,338 327,977 1,615,736 
 
 N. Carolina, 6,707,458 2,236,951 9,684,622 
 
 S.Carolina, 817,692 462,913 1,371,384 
 
 Georpa, 6,018.603 782,270 7,151,236 
 
 Tennessee, 76,574 4,337 81,530 
 
 Alabama, 186,627 10,131 206,041 
 
 New Mexico, 38,963 9,709 523,133 
 
 California, 31,838,079 419,472,761 630,575,666 
 
 Kansas, 4,172 5,008 
 
 Oregon, 69,272 10,738,134 
 
 Other places, 41,103 33,121 106596,699 
 
 Total, $46,922,437 $423,418,614 $768,019,189 
 
 Of this large amount, S721,09G,752 of gold 
 depo.-iited at the mint and its branches in the 
 20 years, 18.51-1870, about $236,000,000 
 was cast into bars, and exported, together 
 with the surplus of coin, to Europe, as mer- 
 chandise. The domestic silver supplied to 
 the mint and branches amounted in all to 
 SI 2,558,244 up to June 30, 1870. The 
 
 reduction of weight being fourteen and a 
 half grains in the half dollar, or nearly seven 
 per cent. The .silver currency was not 
 debased, in the ordinary sense of the word, 
 the same fineness (nine hindred parts pure 
 silver, and one hundred of alloy) being re- 
 tained, and the only change in the coin it.self 
 being in the weight. A very important pro- 
 vi>ion, however, was made in regard to it ; 
 it is not a legal tender i:i payment of debts 
 in sums exceeding five dollars. 
 
 The quantity of silver coined at the mint 
 and branches under the law of 1853, to 1870, 
 has been as follows : — 
 
 S. Francisco. 
 
 Pieces. 
 
 20,(100 
 
 11,163,450 
 
 l,5fJ9,40O 
 
 2,160,750 
 
 1,060,000 
 
 15,913,600 
 
 Total pieces. 
 
 2,516.200 
 3S.0.'i2,580 
 20,946.830 
 11,747,130 
 19,546,130 
 
 4,942,('00 
 
 Talue. 
 
 2,510,000 
 
 19,026,290 
 
 6,736,709 
 
 1,174,713 
 
 977,306 
 
 148,260 
 
 103,750,070 $30,579,273 
 
 largest amount, almost one-half, was parted 
 from domestic gold, and $707,448 was from 
 fine bars privately a-sayed. Kevada fur- 
 nished almost 85,000,000. 
 
 The amount of specie actually in the coun- 
 try cannot be ascertained wiih perfect ac- 
 curacy. Ihe amount in the country in 1821 
 was estimated at 837,000,000. The calcula- 
 tion, then, up to 1849, upon official figures, 
 would be as follows ; — 
 
 Specie in the country in 1821, 
 Product of U. S. mines to 1849, 
 
 $37,000,000 
 13,811,206 
 
 Imported 1821 to 1849, 
 Exported *' '* 
 
 242,239,061 50,811.206 
 180,590,004 01,042,397 
 
 Specie in the country in 1849, $112,453,603 
 
 Of Ihis amount, 843,619,000 was in the 
 banks and 85,700,925 in the ffederal treas- 
 ury ; $32,133,688 was probably in circula- 
 tion, and $31,000,(100 in plate and orna- 
 ments. From 1849 to 1859 the amount 
 was as follows : — 
 
 In the country in 1849, $112,453,603 
 
 Coinage, 1849 to 1859, 529,019,919 
 
 Supply to 1859, $642,073,522 
 
 Import of the metals, 1849 
 
 to 1859, 78,838,864 
 
 Export in the same time, 435,023,906 
 
 Excess export, 
 In the country in 1859, 
 
 356,185,042 
 
 $285,888,480 
 
218 
 
 UNITED STATES MINT ^ 
 
 This gives an increase of $173,434,877 of 
 specie in tlie country to 1860. The distri- 
 bution of this mono)' was nearly as follows : 
 
 Stock in the country, 8285,888,480 
 
 United Stuti'S treasury, S10,000,000 
 In all the banks, 101,537,818 
 
 In plate, ornaments, &c., 50,000,000 
 In general circulation 121,350,662 
 
 $285,888,480 
 
 Immigrants bring with them large sums of 
 coin and bullion whirli go cither to the mint 
 or the brokers for export. We may now 
 ascertain the amount of money that circula- 
 ted in the country m 1859, as follows : — 
 
 1849. 1859. 
 
 Less notes on hand 16,4:27,000 18 858,289 
 
 Bank notes in circulat'n, 112,079,OuO 174,448,529 
 Specie in circulation, 32,133,688 121,350,662 
 
 Total mixed circulat'n, $144,212,683 $295,799,191 
 From 1859 to 1870 some now elements 
 entered into the calculation. Tlie suspen- 
 sion of specie payments in 18G1, led to hoard- 
 ing and the disuse of specie in circulation, 
 but the amount of gold and silver in the 
 country was very nearly as follows : — 
 
 Specie in the country in 1859, §285,888,480 
 
 Accession from 1S59 to 1870, 836,452,754 
 
 $1,122,341,2-34 
 Less export 1 859 to 1 870 582,074,940 
 
 $546,266,294 
 Of this large amount, the United States 
 Treasury held — 
 
 At the end of 1870 $107,802,280 
 
 TheNational Banks held 26,307,251 
 
 State banks and private banks about 104,000,000 
 
 Giild brokers and speculators 25,O0(),O0J 
 
 I'latc, watches, ornaments, &c., 150,000,000 
 
 Hoarded, 127,140,01 
 
 $540,259,531 
 
 There was at this time, (Dec. 1870) of 
 course no specie in general circulation, ex- 
 ec ,it the nickel and silver five and three cent 
 )iie;'es, and the copper cents and two ct'ut 
 pieces, and these did not exceed $4,000,000 
 or $5,01)0,000 in value. The circulating me- 
 dium consisted of — 
 
 Les.al tender notes, (greenbacks) $356,1 01 ,086 
 
 Fractional currency 39,9!I5,089 
 
 Gold certificates of deposit 26,149,000 
 
 National Bank Notes, 296,205,446 
 
 $718,450,621 
 
 The mint operates upon the various forms 
 of the metals brought to it, and these are of 
 great variety, from the most delicate plates 
 
 and ornaments down to base alloys, and thesft 
 are all included under the general term bul- 
 lion, except United States coins. The bullion 
 is either unwrought or manufactured. The 
 first description embrac-'s gold dust, amalga- 
 mated cakes and balls, lamiiuiled gold, melted 
 bars and cakes. The " dust " is the shape in 
 which it is derived by washing in the |)lacer 
 mines. In South America, Kussia, and 
 elsewhere, amalgamated gold is that which 
 has been procured by the use of quicksilver, 
 forming a lump. Laminate<l gold is that 
 which is comhined with silver, and derived 
 mostly from Central America. IJoth these 
 kinds come to the mint in bars an<l cakes 
 three inches wide, and one and a half thick, 
 weighing 275 ounces, and are worth $5,'.)(iO. 
 The maiuifactured i-! mostly jewelry, plate, 
 and coin. Jeweliy is received at the mint 
 in every variety of article into the manufac- 
 ture of which gold enters. Its value depend? 
 upon the quantity of pure gold in it, ai.d this 
 requires to Ije extracted by assaying. The 
 range of fineness of the better kinds of jew- 
 elry is 300 to 6oO, or from 1 3 to 2-3 the 
 value of coin of the same weight, but the 
 cheaper kinds contain veiy little g dd. All 
 this mass of metal must be reducctl to a uni- 
 f )rm material, containing the j)roper propor- 
 tion of alloy, and cast in bars, 1 2 in. long, 
 i in. thick, and from 1 to 1 1 in breadth, ac- 
 cording to the size of the cijin to be struck. 
 Tlie-e are tested to see if they are of the legal 
 fineness. They are then annealed, and rolled 
 into long thin strips by means of a steam en- 
 gine. These strips are then drawn through 
 plates of the hardeststeel, to proper thickness, 
 and by a steam press cut into '-planchets" 
 or pieces of the exact size of the coin wanted, 
 at the rate of ICO per minute. These are 
 then cleaned, annealed, whitened, weighed, 
 and placed in a tulie, which slides them one 
 by one into a steel collar, in which they fit. 
 The |)iece is seized, stamped with perfect im- 
 pressions on both sides by the dies, and in- 
 stantly pushed away to be followed by ano- 
 ther piece. The devices on these dies are first 
 cut in soft steel. This " original die " is then 
 hardened, and is u.-ed to im|>ress a piece of 
 soft steel, which is ihen like a cohi with the 
 figures raised, and is called a " nub." This 
 being again hardened, is used to impress the 
 dies, with which the coining is done, and a 
 pair of them will do two weeks' work. The 
 coining presses are of sizes proportionate to 
 the work. 
 
INSURANCE-FIRE AND MARINE. 
 
 The history of Fire Insurance dates back 
 only to the year following the Great Fire in 
 London in 1606, if indeed it can be said to 
 ' have had any clearly defined existence be- 
 fore the year 1G96, when the first organized 
 association was formed, based upon the sim- 
 ple principle of contribution in tlie shape of 
 annual premiums proportionate to the 
 amount of projierty insured, to a common 
 fund, out of wliich the losses of its various 
 memljers were to be made good. This as- 
 j sociation was very appropriately styled the 
 I " Hand in Hand, or Amicable Contribution 
 ; Society," and was strictly mutual in cliarac- 
 j ter. A number of attempts had been made 
 j for some system of Fire Insurance as early 
 1 as 16G9, all of which proved abortive, as 
 did the attempt of the City of London in 
 1681 to settle lands and ground rents to the 
 ! value of £10",(iOO, together with the sums 
 : to be received for premiums, as a fund for 
 . the insurance of houses. About the year 
 1 670 a company was estalilished in Edinburgh 
 for friendly insurance against, fire, consi>ting 
 ' of a number of private contributors, who 
 ', agreed to insure each other. This insur- 
 ance, howevi-r, was not personal, like modern 
 fire insurance, but the interest, and stock, 
 and benefit were inseparably annexed to the 
 houses insured as long as the contribution 
 was continued. Little piogress was made 
 under any of these forms before the com- 
 mencement of the eighteenth century, when 
 the Sun Fire Office in London was estab- 
 lished in 1710, from which time Fire Insur- 
 ance may be said to date its progress under 
 the form of both mutual and stock compan- 
 ies. The limited experience obtained up to 
 that time, had given some general notions as 
 to hazards of diflFerent classes of property, 
 and by enabling a proper rate to be fixed 
 propoi tionate to the hazard, had so far re- 
 duced the rates charged as to render insur- 
 ance ea<ily obtainable and popular. From 
 this time companies multiplied in England, 
 and previous to the war of our revolution 
 had numerous agencies in the then Colonies. 
 In other countries of Europe the practice of 
 insuring against fire was not introduced until 
 a. much later period, about 1754, when the 
 
 marine companies in Paris obtained permis-. 
 sion from the government to make insurances 
 against fire. For a long time the practice 
 was by no means general. Owing to the 
 solid structure of their buildings and the ex- 
 traordinary caution on the part of the people 
 for the prevention of fires, few sought pro- 
 tection by means of insurance. It lias been 
 confidently asserted by persons well ac- 
 quainted with both the cities of London and 
 Amsterdam, that after making all fair allow- 
 ances there is upon an avei'age more pro- 
 perty destroyed by fire in the former in one 
 year than in the latter in twenty. Fire In- 
 surance has, however, now become very- 
 general, and some of the continental com- 
 jianies are the largest and strongest in the 
 world. 
 
 The first Fire Insurance Company organ- 
 ized in the United States was the " Philadel- 
 phia Contributionship for insuring houses 
 from loss by lire," in 17.32. This was pure- 
 ly a mutual company, requiting a depo-it 
 from the insured, the interest of which would 
 meet the losses of each year and yield some- 
 thing over for a dividend at the termination 
 of the risk, which was for seven years. The 
 plan was borrowed from the first English 
 company of similar name, and the company 
 numbered among its directors Dr. Franklin 
 and other men eminent in colonial and revo- 
 lutionary time<. For many years after the 
 peace of 1783, an insurance company, on 
 the principle of the ancient London " Hand 
 in Hand," existed in New York, and con- 
 tinued to do a moderate business until incor- 
 porated companies with capital stock became 
 common and superceded the mutual plan, 
 wliich was found to be too slow and cum- 
 brous for the growing business of that city. 
 The first stock company formed in the 
 United States was the Insurance Company 
 of North America in Philadelphia in 17'JJ. 
 Others followed in Providence, Boston, and 
 New York from that time until a few years 
 after the beginning of the present century, 
 when Fire Insurance in this coimtry may be 
 said to have been established on essentially 
 the same general principles as at present 
 conducted. The first quarter of this cen- 
 
220 
 
 INSURANCE FIRE AND MARINE. 
 
 tury witnessed a modernte giowth ; the 
 second quarter made some progress, not- 
 withstanding the two great fires, and ended 
 with a moderate increase in capital and 
 business. The extensive iin<l enormous de- 
 velopment of tire insurance in this country 
 Jias been the work of" the last twenty-five 
 years, during which lime a radical change 
 has been wrougiit in the mode of doing the 
 bui^iness by stock companies instead of mu- 
 tual, and by tiie present wide spread and 
 almost universal system of agencies. 
 
 In 18.'}."), previous to which we have no 
 reliable statistical information, there wi^re in 
 the City of New York some eighteen Fire 
 Insurance Omipanies, with an aggregate 
 capital of a little over f 6,(liiO,00(S one of 
 which had a c.ipital of Sl,OnO,0(iO, and three 
 others had $50(>,0(HI each, while the remain- 
 ing capitals langedfrom S^itKl.fKK) to $3,30,- 
 000. It would be interesting to know the 
 exact amount of premiums ainiually received 
 by these companies at that date, but having 
 no reliable statistics to refer to, an approxi- 
 mate estimate can only be formed, based 
 upon the recollection of parties who were 
 then connected with certain of those institu- 
 tions. Fi-oni the last data of this kind now 
 available it is ascert'.iined rpiite satisfactorily 
 tiiat ihc whole amount of premiums received 
 by all the companies in that and the two 
 following years respectively, was something 
 less than "ijl,(!00,000. At that time there 
 were no agencies of companies of other 
 states, or foreign companies, in the Slate of 
 New York, the English companies iiaving 
 been excluded by a law passed Marcli, 1814. 
 From 1833 to December, 1835, seven new 
 companies were organized, with an aggregate 
 ftipital of about SI, 700. 0011, making the en- 
 tire fire insurance cajiital at the time of the 
 great fire in December of the latter year a 
 little less than §8,000,000. The great fire 
 j)f 1835, which destroyed about six hundred 
 buildings, mostly stores and warehouses, and 
 property to tlie value of between $ 1 5,000,000 
 and $20,000,000, caused the insolvency of 
 all but seven of the companies tlien in exis- 
 tence in that city, thus reducing the actual 
 capital for lire insurance to about $1,000,000. 
 The insolvent companies paid variously from 
 40 to 90 per cent, on the claims for losses 
 under their policies. During the next ten 
 years many of the companies were revived 
 under favorable legislation and new com- 
 panies organized, so that the fire insurance 
 
 capital of Kew York and Brooklyn amount- 
 ed to about $6,000,000 ; to which should be 
 added a considerable number of mutual 
 companies and agencies of Hartford and 
 Bosion companies, which were then estab- 
 lished for tlic first time to any considerable 
 extent in that city. The great fire of July, 
 1845, swept most of these mutuals and again 
 sever.al of the stock companies into insolv- 
 ency, and left a large number with capitals 
 seriously impaired. Of the companies ren- 
 dered insolvent by this last calamity, none 
 ever revived. From this time there was 
 little increase in companies or capital until 
 the passage of the general insurance law by 
 the State of New York in 1849, under which, 
 and tlie law of 1853, which took its place, a 
 very large number of the comjianies were 
 organized in the City of New York, thus 
 bringing the aggregate fire insurance capital 
 of the state at the end of 1870 up to over 
 twenty-nine millions of dollars, again, how- 
 ever, reduced at the end of 1871 to a trifle 
 over twenly-two millions by the great fire 
 at Chicago. The progress of iire insurance 
 in the City of New Y ork may be taken as 
 a fair criterion by which to judge of its pro- 
 gress in other prominent cities of our coun- 
 try. Philadilphia and Boston have not ex- 
 perienced such sudden fluctuations in capital 
 as New York, having escaped fires of mag- 
 nitude like those of 1835 and 1845. The 
 older companies in both cities have been 
 noted for solidity and conservatism. To 
 Hartford belongs the credit of originating 
 and giving vitality to the agency system in 
 fire insurance. For a lime, indeed, that city 
 had almost a monopoly of the agency fire 
 business, and is now second to none in the 
 country in the character, position, and finan- 
 cial strength of its companies. The busi- 
 ness has proved a source of wealih to that 
 city, and it now has more insurance capital 
 in proportion to its size than any other city 
 in the country. Within the past fifteen 
 years a great number of companies have 
 been started in the prominent cities of the 
 west, with more or less success. Such as 
 have been organized with actual capital and 
 prudently managed have generally succeeded, 
 with the exception of the Chicago companies, 
 which were engulfed in the terrible disas- 
 ter of October, 1871. The past tliirfy years 
 have witnessed the rise and extinction of 
 hundreds of mutual and stock companies of 
 purely speculative character, which never 
 
INSURANCE— FIRE AND MARINE. 
 
 221 
 
 deserved public confidence, and soon met the 
 'fate which always a' tends corporations or- 
 ■ganized with fraudulent purpose or managed 
 •by incompetent men. To one of these 
 causes may be attributed the failure of near- 
 ly all the companies which have gone down 
 during that time, except such as have been 
 overwhelmed in one or the other of the 
 three great fires already referred to. Many 
 strong and well managed companies have 
 ;beeu swipt away before the great cyclones 
 of fire which have more than once marked 
 the history of tiie ]iast forty years, and in 
 yielding to inevitable and unavoidable ca- 
 lamity have secured the commendation rather 
 than C3nsure of tiie pulilic; while such cor- 
 ; porations, whether mutual or stock, as have 
 ibeen conceived in fraud and designed to prey 
 ' upon the credulity or ignorance of the as- 
 sured deserve only contempt and the sever- 
 i est punishment of the managers through 
 ! whom such vast injur}' has been doue to the 
 I insuring pub'ic. 
 
 Of this class of companies, those of a 
 ' mutual ciiaracter have bi en most noticeable 
 for the injury which has been inflicted on 
 1 the insured and the disrepute into which the 
 business of fire insurance was brought in 
 i the ten years following 18.'(0. Under the 
 general insurance law of 184'J a large num- 
 i ber of mutual companies were organized in 
 , the State of New York, and in 18.J3 num- 
 bered C2, with nominal assets in excess of 
 I eleven and a half millions of dollars. In 
 18G0 the number had fallen to 27, with as- 
 sets less than four and a quarter millions, 
 and in 1870 oidy eight companies were in 
 existence, with assets of about two and a 
 quarter millions. In the Stale of New York 
 the system of mutual insurance has proved 
 a signal failure. In Massachusetts, at the 
 close of 1849, sixty mutual companies were 
 in existence, and at the close of I8G8 the 
 number had been reduced to 54, with gross 
 assets of $3,9i)i ',307.06, and outstanding 
 risks to the amount of $307,003,988.05. 
 Most of these are located in the interior of 
 the state, and are so small as to make the 
 policies of comparatively little value, since, 
 to pay losses, assessments are required, and 
 these, if of any considerable magnitude, are 
 fatal to the standing of the companies. The 
 mutual system in JNIassachusetts is adapted 
 only to the immediate locality of the com- 
 panies, and seems to be gradually following 
 the fate of the system in New Y'ork, as will 
 
 be noticed in the fact that the entire premium 
 receipts of all the mutual fire insurance com- 
 panies in that state do not exceed one-third 
 of those of the ^tna of Hartford, or one- 
 half those of the Home of New York, while 
 the premiums of nearly a dozen stock com- 
 panies separately equal the entire aggregate. 
 In Vermont the system has been tried for 
 more than forty years by the Vermont Mu- 
 tual with better results, owing to the excel- 
 lent management of the company, and tho 
 fact that its business has ever been confined 
 exclusively to risks in that state. In other 
 states of the Union mutual companies have 
 shared the same fate as those of New York, 
 and it would seem that the system, as such, 
 is totally inadequate to the growing demands 
 of trade and the increasing value of property 
 to be insured. 
 
 It is a noticeable ftict that in 1837 tliere 
 were 43 joint stock companies in Massa- 
 chusetts, witli a combined capital of SO, 415,- 
 00i>, while in 1808 there were only 20 com- 
 panies, with a capital stock of $0,934,800. 
 Comparing, howe\er, the business of the 
 companies, it will be found that the 48 com- 
 panies in 1837 were insuring iire and marine 
 risks to the amount of only SI -IO,0(J(i.Oi)(), 
 while the 29 companies in 1808 had S330,- 
 000.000 at risk. The increase of risks as- 
 sumed in that state by companies from othrr 
 states for the 16 years previous to 1809, was 
 even more marked than that of the state 
 companies, having risen from $0,373,000 in 
 1852 to S-'50,OOn,00'i in 1868. The devel- 
 opment of the joint stock plan of fire in- 
 surance in the State of New York has been 
 equally remarkabh 
 20 companies, havi 
 
 of 55,710,000, with amount Insured $[l9,. 
 571,000, while in 1870 the number had in- 
 creased to 105, with an aggregate capital of 
 29,701,232, and amount insured $.',813,- 
 983,709. The number of companies in the 
 state at the end of 1 87 1 was reduced by the 
 great fire at Chicago to 84, with capital of 
 S22,307,"10. and amount of risks covered 
 $2,397,339.03. It may be proper to note 
 in this connection the increase of capital in 
 companies from other stales doing business 
 in the State of New York from $12,351,315 
 with $507,887,073 at risk in 1859, to $22,- 
 971,101 for capital in 1870, with risks $1,- 
 695,033,500. 
 
 The following table, compiled from offi- 
 I cial reports of comi^anies doing business in 
 
 equally remarkable. In 1844 there were 
 panics, having an aggregate capital 
 
222 
 
 INSURANCE FIRE AND MARINE. 
 
 the State of New York from 1859 to 1871 
 inclusive, shows the increase of capital in- 
 vested in the business of lire insurance (lur- 
 ing fliat time, and the amount of dividends 
 declared from year to year, with the yearly 
 percentage and the average percentage for 
 the whole period. 
 
 TEAR. 
 
 CAPITAL. 
 
 DIVIDENDS. 
 
 PERCENTAGE. 
 
 1859 
 
 §32.358,315 
 
 S4,.595,350 74 
 
 14.19 
 
 1860 
 
 19,998,760 
 
 3,83J,141.97 
 
 12.78 
 
 1831 
 
 29,384,260 
 
 3,2.50,749.76 
 
 lO.'ifi 
 
 1862 
 
 29,834,260 
 
 3,324,566.01 
 
 11. u 
 
 1853 
 
 3.';,24i),7i30 
 
 3,567,:J31.51 
 
 10.72 
 
 1864 
 
 41,iH9,9t5 
 
 4,141,374.42 
 
 9.94 
 
 1865 
 
 44,2S2,750 
 
 4,616,60, .11 
 
 10.42 
 
 18G3 
 
 44,410,350 
 
 3,3r;9,250 70 
 
 7.81 
 
 1867 
 
 45,611,232 
 
 3,774,326.96 
 
 8.27 
 
 1868 
 
 49 ..531, 134 
 
 5,051,796-38 
 
 10.24 
 
 1809 
 
 61,118,602 
 
 6.2.52,779.39 
 
 12.23 
 
 1870 
 
 62,7.32.333 
 
 6,609,998.68 
 
 12 34 
 
 1871 
 
 43,857,010 
 
 4,834,380.00 
 
 11.02 
 
 Aggregate, 
 
 §527,795,771 
 
 §57,125,153.63 
 
 10.82 
 
 This table embraces a very large propor- 
 tion of all the American companies, as near- 
 ly all fire companies seek to do business in 
 the State of Ne\'\' York, and in order to do 
 so have to make annual reports, whicli form 
 the basis of this table. As near as can be 
 ascertained the entire fire insurance capital 
 of the country at the close of 1<S70 amounted 
 to $65,000,fiU0. It will be noticed that the 
 average dividends on this enormous amount 
 of capital has been less than 1 1 per cent, 
 during the past thirteen years. If the loss 
 of capital itself during that time be taken 
 into account, it is doubtful if the average 
 dividends woidd amount to nine per cent., a 
 figure by no means unreasonable for income 
 on capital suVijected to such fearful hazards 
 as those of fire insurance. It is fair to as- 
 sume that the capital of all the companies 
 not reporting to tlie New York Department 
 has yielded aliout the same average divi- 
 dends, and as the capital would of itself earn 
 iit least seven per cent., there remains only 
 about two per cent, for the profits of the 
 business, as such, a figure quite insignificant 
 in view of the nature of the business aud 
 the risk assumed. 
 
 It may be interesting to note the increase 
 in the amount of premiums received, aud the 
 fluctuations in the amount of losses, with 
 tlie various j'early percentage of losses to 
 premiums, as will appear by the following 
 table, showing the .same for the past thir- 
 teen years, compiled from official sources 
 
 and embracing the same companies as the 
 foregoing table. 
 
 TEAR. 
 
 FIRE PREM. REC'D. 
 
 FIRE LOSSES PAID. 
 
 PER CENT. 
 
 1859 
 
 $14,413,458.56 
 
 §8,031,247.41 
 
 55.72 
 
 1860 
 
 11,866.648.45 
 
 6,993,630.90 
 
 68.93 
 
 1861 
 
 10,.527 ,327.76 
 
 6,249,689.79 
 
 69.36 
 
 1862 
 
 11,308.418.99 
 
 7,056.731.57 
 
 62.40 
 
 1863 
 
 14,019,6.58.13 
 
 5,666,976.64 
 
 40.35 
 
 1864 
 
 20,141,152.68 
 
 11 356,624.97 
 
 56..38 
 
 1865 
 
 25.419,589.55 
 
 17,264,618.33 
 
 67.91 
 
 1866 
 
 32,281,404.76 
 
 23.913,745.87 
 
 74.07 
 
 1867 
 
 36,162,138.45 
 
 20,818,269.87 
 
 57.66 
 
 1868 
 
 37,395,740.25 
 
 19,283.979.11 
 
 51.56 
 
 1S69 
 
 39,.3.53,578.57 
 
 20,0.54.341.80 
 
 50.95 
 
 1870 
 
 37.237.621.73 
 
 21,869,440.75 
 
 68.72 
 
 1871 
 
 36,984,570.00 
 
 31,604,180.00 
 
 85.18 
 
 Aggregate, 
 
 §327,111,207.88 
 
 §200,053,476.01 
 
 61.15 
 
 Thus it will be seen that the leading Ame- 
 rican fire companies lost over CI per cent, 
 of their premium receipts from 185'J to 1871 
 inclusive. 
 
 It is proper to remark that the New York 
 Report for 18C7, embracing the New York 
 Companies doing Fire, Inland, and Marine 
 business from 1848 to 186G inclusive, gives 
 o^'er C3 per cent, of losses to premiums for 
 thrit period ; while the strictly mutual state, 
 companies from 1858 to 1867 inclusive suf- 
 fered a loss of over 01 per cent. The fire 
 coni])anies in Massachusetts from 1858 to 
 1866 inclusive paid for losses (J7 per cent., 
 and companies from other states, doing fire 
 business in that state, over 59 per cent, for 
 the same period, or an aggregate loss on 
 both classes of companies of over 00 per 
 cent. The great fire at Chicago increased 
 the general average of the last thirteen years 
 at least one per cent, above the normal aver- 
 age. It will therefore be safe to assume 60 
 per cent, as the average for the last thirty 
 or forty years of fire losses in this country 
 to jireinium receipts. 
 
 Tlie expenses of management form an im- 
 jjortant item in the history ot fire insurance, 
 and have not oidy exercised a great hifiueiice 
 on the profitableness of the business but 
 also on the character of the business done. 
 The increase of the commission to brokers 
 and agents in 1805 from ten to fifteen per 
 cent., no doubt had a b.ad influence on the 
 general conduct of the business, aside Irom 
 the increased losses on risks influenced by 
 the increased commission. 
 
 The following table shows the cash pre- 
 miums received and expenses paid, with 
 average percentage for time named: 
 
INSURANCE FIRE AND MARINE. 
 
 223 
 
 1839 
 ISoO 
 1861 
 1S62 
 18G3 
 13i4 
 1885 
 1S66 
 1867 
 1868 
 1S69 
 1870 
 1871 
 
 aggregate 
 
 NET CASH PREM^S 
 
 RKCEiVED, IN- 
 CLUDIAG INLAND. 
 
 BXPENS'S, LESS 
 DIVD'S, LOSSES, AND 
 
 AMOUNT PAID IN 
 
 INTEREST ON SCRIP 
 
 AND REDEMPTION. 
 
 $14,»5.112.94 
 
 13,7.50,7ia.49 
 l'->,400,643.ri9 
 13,41)4,597.62 
 lrt,414 21:3.94 
 23,.*43,521.89 
 29,.319,092.28 
 a8,Si;7 ,492.27 
 42,23S,059.38 
 43,023,947 81 
 4.5,024,14.5..51 
 42,.593,083.68 
 40,818,312 00 
 
 8376.430,998.90 
 
 §4,004,567.39 
 3,741,323.86 
 3,484,593.73 
 3,569,905.98 
 4,.500.85O.i50 
 6,861,790.26 
 9,403,134.28 
 11,791,369.66 
 13,124,292.14 
 13,874,810.99 
 14,924,366.16 
 15,128,290.66 
 10,879,392.00 
 
 $115,288,677.60 
 
 27..55 
 27.20 
 28.10 
 26.63 
 27.42 
 28.77 
 31.85 
 30.33 
 31.07 
 32.24 
 33.14 
 33.51 
 26.65 
 
 30.62 
 
 ! From this table it appears that the aver- 
 ige expenses of American Companies is not 
 iess than 30 per cent, of the premiums re- 
 •eived. This figure, however, includes taxes 
 i)n capital, which in most of the states are 
 laid by the companies. The expenses of 
 Companies in England average about 31 per 
 ';eiit. ; those of France about the same, while 
 lliose of Germany average about thirty per 
 fent. If, therefore, we assume thirty per 
 ;ent., in round numbers, as the average ex- 
 )ense of conducting the business, we shall 
 lot be far from the absolute figure. Com- 
 
 bining the ratio of losses with that of ex- 
 penses, we find a margin of only one-tenth 
 of the premium received for profit, loss of 
 capital, sweeping conflagrations, and epidemic 
 periods. How far this can be trifled with 
 by ignorance or credulity the public mind 
 must judge for itself. To the intelligent and 
 prudent property-holder these figures are 
 full of meaning and admonition. 
 
 Thus far attention has been directed to 
 the profits of underwriting and only inferen- 
 tially to the adjustment of rates to hazards. 
 The comparison of losses and expenses with 
 premiums will go ftir towards enabling the 
 practical underwriter to form a correct judg- 
 ment, in view of past rates and experience, 
 on individual risks ; but to the political econ- 
 omist it is of first importance to know the 
 absolute relation between losses and amount 
 of property insured, the actual amount of 
 risks assumed to each dollar of loss, and the 
 average rate of premium on ri^ks w-ritten, 
 as affording some safe criterion of judgment 
 as to the aspect of the busine.^s as a whole. 
 "With this view the following table has been 
 prepared, embracing twelve years, from 1860 
 to 1871 inclusive : 
 
 
 
 HRE PREMIUMS 
 
 
 
 
 ° 8 
 
 Ui 
 
 TEAR. 
 
 PIRE RISES WRITTEN. 
 
 
 FIRE LOSSES PAU). 
 
 g" 2 
 
 £«»§ 
 
 Sis 
 
 
 
 RECEIVED. 
 
 
 
 s:.s~s 
 
 
 i^'^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Si.-.:; 
 
 |l? 
 
 K^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 P.V.2 
 
 e.^ c i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 I>^CO 
 
 $1,617,439,267 
 
 $11,866,548.45 
 
 $6,993,630.90 
 
 58.93 
 
 .4323 
 
 231.27 
 
 .7336 
 
 isiu 
 
 1. 5:10,019,235 
 
 10,527,327.76 
 
 6,249,089 79 
 
 59..36 
 
 .4084 
 
 244.81 
 
 .6880 
 
 18G2 
 
 1,729,988,571 
 
 11,308,418.99 
 
 7,056,731.57 
 
 62.40 
 
 .4079 
 
 245.15 
 
 .6536 
 
 1863 
 
 2,150,200,798 
 
 14,019,658.13 
 
 5,656,975.64 
 
 40.35 
 
 .2630 
 
 380.09 
 
 .6520 
 
 1864 
 
 3,166,532,904 
 
 20,141,152.68 
 
 11,356,024.97 
 
 56.38 
 
 .3586 
 
 278.82 
 
 .6360 
 
 1865 
 
 3,428,105.224 
 
 25,419,589.55 
 
 17.264,018..33 
 
 67.91 
 
 ..5036 
 
 198.56 
 
 .7415 
 
 1866 
 
 3,930,048,321 
 
 32,281,404.76 
 
 23,913,745.87 
 
 74.07 
 
 .6084 
 
 164. .34 
 
 .8213 
 
 1867 
 
 3,812,294.907 
 
 36,162,138.45 
 
 20,818,269.87 
 
 57.56 
 
 .5460 
 
 183.12 
 
 .9485 
 
 186S 
 
 4,169,495,474 
 
 37,395,740.25 
 
 19,283,979.11 
 
 51.56 
 
 .4625 
 
 216.21 
 
 .8968 
 
 1869 
 
 4,4.54,808.663 
 
 39,353,578.57 
 
 20,054,341.80 
 
 50.95 
 
 .4501 
 
 222.13 
 
 .8833 
 
 1870 
 
 4,509,617,329 
 
 37.237,621.73 
 
 21,869,440.75 
 
 58.72 
 
 .4849 
 
 206.20 
 
 .8257 
 
 1871 
 
 4,204.798,338 
 
 36,984,570.00 
 
 31,504,180.00 
 
 85.18 
 
 .7492 
 
 133.46 
 
 .8795 
 
 Aggregate, 
 
 $38,703,349,031 
 
 $312,697,749.32 
 
 $192,022,228.60 
 
 61.40 
 
 .4961 
 
 201.55 
 
 .8079 
 
 During these eventful twelve years the 
 imount insured has more than doubled, hav- 
 ng reached in 1S70 more than four thousand 
 ive hundred millions of dollars. The gross 
 ji-emiums have more than tripled, having 
 risen from less than twelve millions in 18G0 
 X) nearly thirty-seven millions in 1871. The 
 osses also increased from less than seven 
 nillions in 1S60 to more than twenty-one 
 aiillions in 1870, and more than thirty-one 
 millions in 1871, including losses paid at 
 
 Chicago. The most alarming feature is, 
 however, found in the enormous increase of 
 the percentage of losses to amount insured 
 from .4323 to .4819 in 1871), or .7492 in 
 1871, including the Chicago fire, or a general 
 average for the twelve ye'ars of .496ll. This 
 fact is full of meaning, and shows that the 
 losses by fire have more than doubled in 
 that time, a feet well calculated to call at- 
 tention to the causes which have produced, 
 in so short a time, so fearful an increase in 
 
224 
 
 INSURANCE FIRE AND MARINE. 
 
 tlie destruction of property in this country | 
 by fire. "When it is considend that every 
 loss ot property by fire, whether insured or 
 not, is a loss to the common weultli of the 
 country, the import of these figures will be 
 more fully appreciated. So greiit, indeed, 
 has become the destruction of properly by 
 fire, tliat it has been doubted even by wise 
 and intelligent persons whether, in a general 
 or national point of view, the benefits re- 
 sulting from insurance are not more than 
 counterbalanced by the mischief it occasion*. 
 The objections in that point of view which 
 have been urged are, carelessness and inat- 
 tention which security by insurance naturally 
 creates, and the temptation to arsfm engen- 
 dered by it. But though it must be admit- 
 ted that this species of insurance has been 
 oftentimes the cause of fires, the benefits 
 really outweigh the mischiefs ascribed to it, 
 and it would at this day be ditficult to con- 
 ceive iiow the vast movements of trade and 
 manufacture could be carried on without the 
 protection of fire insurance. The immense 
 accumulations of merchandise demand it, 
 and notwithstanding the serious objections 
 stated, it is essential to credit and the great 
 industrial interests of the country. The 
 general practice marks tie civilization of the 
 a"e in wiiich we live, and has now become 
 indispensible to the interests of trade and 
 progress. 
 
 With all the development made in this 
 im|)ortant branch of political economy there 
 yet remains much to be done before the 
 business of fire insurance will be reduced to 
 anything like the exactness its importance 
 demands. Many reforms must be intro- 
 duced, systematic statistics on fire insurance 
 must be obtained and classified so as to af- 
 ford a scientitic basis on which the business 
 should be conducted. The evils of over in- 
 surance, so productive of incendiarism ; loose 
 undrrwriting; hasty adjustment and pay- 
 ment of los-es, as an encourrigement to crim- 
 inal carelessness or positive fraud, with nu- 
 merous irregularities that have insidiously 
 crept in upon the business, must be corrected 
 before it can claim the high rank to which 
 it is entitled. 
 
 There is a great law of average governing 
 the business, ceitain and univer-al as the 
 law of gravitation, though it is as yet im- 
 perfectly understood, lis principles are even 
 now sufficiently well known to afford a safe 
 
 guide for the practical administration of the 
 business, and with a wise caution on the | art 
 of the public there is little danger that a 
 business like that of fire insvuance, com- 
 manding as it does its full share of skill, 
 talent, integrity, and honor, will be wantonly 
 thrown into the hands of men or- corpora- 
 tions devoid of all these qualities. It is a 
 matter of public concern that these gnat 
 interests, so intimately interwoven with nil 
 the industrial pursuits of tiie country, should 
 be so conducted as to lessen one of the bur- 
 dens that now presses so heavily upon them. 
 Such should be the aim ot those to whom 
 these interests are entrusted, to the end that 
 undoubted indemnity may be secured to 
 the insured and profit to the capital invest- 
 ed. 
 
 Marine Insurance is of, a much older 
 date than fire, and is supposed lo have ex- 
 isted under the early Roman Kmperois. 
 
 The Lombards from Italy introduced ma- 
 rine underwriiing into England about the 
 end of the 14th century. The first or;iimiz(d 
 Company in New York was the Mew Yoik 
 Insurance Company in ITllfi, with a capitnl 
 of $.il)0,0OO. The business has inert ascd 
 under Stock and Mutual Companies until 
 the total assets in IKIJO were $:>l,S('w,!'.iH, 
 and in 1871 §2.5,874,14(3. Total los^es for 
 same time were S138,6.o8,0Gl. 
 
 The "United States Lloyds," of Xcw 
 York, is composed of 100 individual under- 
 writers, who have each paid into the com- 
 mon fund or capit;d Sl.O'ld, and each of 
 whom is personally liable for at least an 
 hundredth part of each and every risk taken 
 by the attorneys of the association. 
 
 The Fire and Jlarine Companies of 
 Massachusetts in 1808 insured $104,6.)4.- 
 'JG6 — received $2,4.38,'2o6 jiremiums, and 
 sustained losses to the amountof $1.7<i9,872. 
 IMany of the fire companies assume also In- 
 land risks on our AVestern rivers and lake?, 
 and there are a large number of companies 
 scattered along the great rivers of the west 
 devoted exclusively to this class of business. 
 It is, however, impossible to obtain informa- 
 tion futficiently accurate to warrant any gen- 
 eial classification. 
 
 The business of marine insurance has 
 made rapid progress within the last fifty 
 years under the mutual plan, which seems 
 to be the only system adaptid to its success- 
 ful prosecution in this country. 
 
HOOK AND LADDER HOSE C VHRAIGE, AND MODERN HAND FIRE EXGIX& WITH SUCTION AND FORCE PUMPS. 
 
LIFE INSURANCE. 
 
 Life Insurance treats human-life as pro- 
 ductive capital, as having absolute and defi- 
 nite money value, and offers indemnity 
 against its loss. Every person engaged in 
 a productive industry, or whose income de- 
 pends in any degree upon his labor, skill, or 
 care, is worih in money to those dependent 
 upon him what he earns, and is to earn for 
 them during the ])eriod he may expect to 
 live according to the average duration of 
 life among men of liis age. If he die pre- 
 maturely, his dejiendents lose just so much 
 capital or money as would be earned by 
 him had he lived his full limit. Life insur- 
 ance brings together the men so situated, 
 and upon their contributing to a common 
 fund, according to their several chances of 
 dying, according to the law of mortality, 
 undertaives to replace to the surviving de- 
 pendents the capital lost by the death of 
 him wlio produced it for them. 
 
 As regards the individual, nothing is so 
 jncertain as the time of his death; as re- 
 gards the multitude, nothing is so uncertain 
 as what individuals will die first, or within 
 a given time ; but, on the other hand, notli- 
 ing is so certain as that the individual must 
 pie at some time : and that among the mul- 
 titude, the individuals will die at a certain 
 rate until all are gone. To ascertain the 
 pte of death or mortality, is tiierelore the 
 ponsideration of first importance to a Life 
 Insurance Company. This can be done 
 only by a long and careful observation of a 
 number of lives sufliL'iently large to give a 
 uniform operation of the law of average in 
 ieach year. Many tables of mortality, more 
 or less imperfect, according to the circum- 
 stances of their construction, have been pre- 
 pared and used. Tiiose in use in modern 
 offices are principally four, the Carlisle, the 
 Actuaries, Farr's Table No. 3, and the 
 American Experience. Any of these seem, 
 
 •14 
 
 by the experience of American companies 
 at least, to place the rate of mortality so 
 high as to make them safe guides for offices 
 which accept only sound lives, as is gener- 
 ally the case. Experience proves the rate 
 to be an increasing one ; that is, the pro- 
 portion of the dying to the living, increases 
 with each year of age ; in consequence of 
 which tlie contribution each person insured 
 would be called upon to make in payment 
 of policies of decedents would considera- 
 bly increase from year to year. For exam- 
 ple, suppose 10,000 persons mutually insur- 
 ing each other for $ 1 0,0(JO each, at the age 
 of 30; the first year each survivor would 
 have to contribute $84.71 to pay the losses 
 occurring during that j-ear. In the tenth 
 year he would have to pay $102.03 ; in the 
 "twentieth year, $152. G-t; in the thirtieth 
 year, $207.'J(), nearly a thousand dollars in 
 the forty-fifth year, over two thousand in 
 the fifty-fifth year, and so on. It was found 
 necessary to devise means whereby a com- 
 pany could provide the increasing sums 
 necessary to pay its increasing losses, and at 
 the same time demand from its members no 
 increase of their annual contribution or pre- 
 mium. This could only be done by charging 
 a premium in excess of the losses for the 
 first years of tiie contract, and reserving the 
 excess to meet the future rapid losses. This 
 accounts for the large accumulation of assets 
 by the life offices, as compared with the 
 fire. To take the example just given : 
 Suppose the company assumes that it can 
 earn four per cent, compound interest, on 
 any investments for the next seventy years, 
 and charges each of the ten thousand mem- 
 bers $fG'J.72 each, for life : it will receive 
 for the first year $I,G07,200, pay out $840,- 
 000 for losses, and have in reserve, from 
 the premiums and interest, $930,700 invest- 
 ed in some sort of proper assets ; the second 
 (225) 
 
226 
 
 LIFE INSURANCE. 
 
 year it will receive in premiums $1,682,942, 
 and pay for losses $S50,l)00, and have in 
 reserve, from premiums, interest, and former 
 reserve, SI, 875,512: the fifth year it will 
 receive in ])remiums $l,G3y,lo6, pay for 
 losses §880,000, and have in reserve, from 
 jireraiums, interest, and former reserves, $4,- 
 793,100; the tenth year it will receive in 
 premiums 51,502,782, pay for losses $930,- 
 000, and have in reserve, from premiums, 
 interest, and former reserves, $9,936,029 ■ 
 the twentieth year it will receive in premi- 
 ums $1,388,479, pay for losses $l,230,0(i0, 
 and have in reserve $20,721,981 : in the 
 thirtieth year it will receive in jiremiums 
 $1,101,14:^, pay for losses, $1,890,000, and 
 have in reserve $27,423,219: the highest 
 reserve will be in the thirty-third year, when 
 the premium receipts will be $990,590, 
 losses $2,140,00(1, and the reserve $27,913,- 
 843 : in the fortieth year the premium re- 
 ceipts will be $705,017, the losses, $2,650,- 
 000, and the reserve, $24,690,628; the 
 reserve is now being constantly drawn 
 upon to pay losses which have really ex- 
 ceeded the premium receipts since the 
 twenty-third year ; the fiftieth year the 
 premium receipts will be $261,538, loss- 
 es $2,300,000, and reserve, $10,428,088: 
 the sixtieth year the premium receipts 
 will be $25,797, losses $030,000, reserve 
 $1,310,591 : in the sixty seventh year the 
 premium receipts will be only $339, losses 
 $20,000, reserve $18,484, and only two 
 persons left alive, who will die within the 
 
 next three years, and the $18,484 reserve, 
 with the additional premiums to be paid by 
 them, and the four per cent, interest wiU 
 provide the $10,000 to be piid at the death 
 of each, and leave not a cent in the hands 
 of the company. E^very dollar of the vast 
 accumulation it once held was reserved 
 against a day of certain need, and went in 
 its appointed time to its appointed owner, 
 according to the law of mortality. 
 
 The constant additions of new lives, pro- 
 cured by the companies, pre\ents any such 
 extinction of assets as is above shown, by 
 replacing the reserves withdrawn by old 
 members, with those derived from the new. 
 Tliere is always in progress, the practical 
 substitution of a new company for an old 
 one. 
 
 No enterprise has had more rapid growth in 
 this country within the last ten years, than 
 Life Insurance. On the first of January, 
 1871, there were 113 companies incorpo- 
 rated by the several States ; these had in 
 force 834,498 policies, insuring the immense 
 sum of $2,203,438,213. The necessary 
 reserve to provide for the ultimate payment 
 of this sum was, at that date, about $250,- 
 000.000, and they held assets amounting to 
 $300,010,050. Over 620,000 of these poli- 
 cies were issued by only 24 companies, who 
 also held over $232,000,000 of the entire 
 amount of assets held by all the companies. 
 The following table shows the distribution 
 of this business by States: 
 
 state. 
 
 No. of Co's. 
 
 No. of Policies. 
 
 Amount insured. 
 
 Amount of Assets. 
 
 Average amount of 
 Assets to each Co. 
 
 Maine, - - - 
 
 1 
 
 15,852 
 
 $36,008,360 
 
 SS ,295,533 
 
 
 Vennnnt, - 
 
 2 
 
 3,494 
 
 6,-500,326 
 
 1.075,111 
 
 $537,56660 
 
 Massachusetts, - 
 
 6 
 
 52,137 
 
 la5, 189,840 
 
 17,724,629 
 
 2,954,104.66 
 
 Ktiode Island, - 
 
 1 
 
 2,743 
 
 6,359,718 
 
 H7,897 
 
 
 Connecticut, 
 
 9 
 
 177,676 
 
 447,207.836 
 
 65.373,407 
 
 7,268,600.00 
 
 New Yorlt, 
 
 41 
 
 377,744 
 
 1,048,SS9,779 
 
 133,546.120 
 
 3,257,222.43 
 
 Mew Jersey, 
 
 i 
 
 45,339 
 
 14S,793,S50 
 
 23 343,275 
 
 6,835.818,76 
 
 Pennsylvania, - 
 
 6 
 
 •23,778 
 
 64,493,461 
 
 16,619,647 
 
 2,763,27450 
 
 Maryland, - 
 
 2 
 
 1,425 
 
 4,296,772 
 
 623,332 
 
 311,666.00 
 
 Delaware, - 
 
 1 
 
 1,052 
 
 1,841,907 
 
 187,923 
 
 
 Virginia, 
 
 1 
 
 8,715 
 
 28,178,654 
 
 1,606,063 
 
 
 South Carolina, 
 
 1 
 
 320 
 
 1,099,040 
 
 47,375 
 
 
 Georgia, - 
 
 1 
 
 1,.592 
 
 6,675,425 
 
 562,607 
 
 
 Alabama, 
 
 1 
 
 790 
 
 1,808,500 
 
 331,235 
 
 
 Louisiana, 
 
 1 
 
 408 
 
 2,070,500 
 
 264,242 
 
 
 Tennessee, - 
 
 1 
 
 3,467 
 
 83,361709 
 
 2,045,169 
 
 1,022,680.00 
 
 Kentucky, 
 
 2 
 
 2 530 
 
 9,548,243 
 
 1,059,142 
 
 629,561 00 
 
 Missouri, 
 
 8 
 
 33,256 
 
 131,388,883 
 
 10,671,634 
 
 1,333,941,75 
 
 Ohio, 
 
 4 
 
 11,807 
 
 22,135.199 
 
 1,376,952 
 
 343,9,58,00 
 
 Illinois, 
 
 6 
 
 9,546 
 
 13,938,708 
 
 2, .564 ,404 
 
 890,734,00 
 
 Indiana, - 
 
 1 
 
 1,011 
 
 2,433,314 
 
 177,311 
 
 
 Michigan, - 
 
 1 
 
 1,674 
 
 3,021,065 
 
 219.842 
 
 
 Iowa, 
 
 1 
 
 4.52 
 
 796,622 
 
 166,687 
 
 
 Minnesota, - 
 
 1 
 
 326 
 
 703,700 
 
 1.37,460 
 
 
 Califonua, 
 
 2 
 
 2,568 
 
 8,357,745 
 
 1,361,683 
 
 
= « 3 2 o-*' -5"^= — 
 
 2 S ==s S S - ""= : =: 
 
 2^"s'^^3=;j'g;- 
 
 5 ft ;j ~ ? -iS'; „.T s-w 
 2 o-.o — a"^™ 
 
 •:=.>?= '822" 
 
 . 3- - ^^ f - „ 
 
 " 3* 
 
 p.miTd 
 
 ^S" 
 
 
 ™o 
 
 13 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 5=3iirsi5 
 
 2? 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 " 1 
 
 
 . 1 
 
 
 i 
 
 g S.n « S 3 2 o'" — 
 
 3 ™ 5 ^ » -,5"^ o -: 
 £ _- a."< o"^ o -» _ 
 
 
 :2 ".-.?= s;; 
 
 -■^ 3 ? 5-2 I =:::2.^ --^ 3 ? 3 o S :3-a 3-- js.sl 
 
 ' i,^ r.i a3jT 
 
 •=3-5o2=nS2'S|2.S3 _--, 
 
 
 3'E.-" IT— a " -1 ^^ — ' 2-m a*l ° ™ - '^ '^^S A 
 
 ^ - 2 ^2 - 
 
 ; = = ^-a 3 3 3 s r ^ CS-H - o = 2- "> «> " SB: 
 
 
 n' ~ .« C — 
 
 -^.z-B 2-S-:?o =-o 
 
 
 P3 
 
 ■-3 
 
 o 
 
 
 173 
 
LIFE INSURANCE. 
 
 227 
 
 The following fable shows the comparative 
 iiagiiitude of the business of Life Insurance 
 a the United States as compared wiih Great 
 Jritain, the English Colonies, and Germany : 
 
 ^nited States, 
 reat Britain, 
 nglish Colonies, 
 
 «riDany, 
 
 
 
 o- 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 z3 
 
 1- 
 
 113 
 
 834,498 
 
 Vh 
 
 1,225,308 
 
 4 
 
 12,741 
 
 36 
 
 424,922 
 
 S300,61i;,056 
 
 4&9,330,350 
 
 6,079,815 
 
 Thalers. 
 
 61,446,040 
 
 The largest foreign company is the 
 Gotha of Germany, which had in force 
 January 1st, 1871, 36,392 policies, with 
 assets amounting to 19,439,7:^8 thalers. 
 The ISIutual Life of New York, the Con- 
 necticut Mutual, and the iEtna of Hartford, 
 the Mutual Benefit of New Jersey, and the 
 New York Life, each had a larger number 
 of policies in force at that time, and jios- 
 sessed a larger amount of assets, some of 
 them several fold. 
 
IMMIGRATION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 GENERAL MIGRATION— COLONIES AND 
 UNITED STATES. 
 
 At the date of the recent national census, 
 (1870) nearly one-seventh of the inhabitants 
 of the United States, (5,566,546 out of 38,- 
 555,983) were of foreign birth, and since 
 that time (to Jan. 1, 1872) about 500,000 
 more aliens have arrived in this country. Of 
 those classed as " natives " in the census, 
 quite as many more are children, one or both 
 of whose parents were foreigners. It may, 
 then, be salely computed that two-sevenths 
 of our population are either of foreign birth 
 or parentage. This is irrespective of the 
 large negro element, most of which has been 
 in this country for more than one genera- 
 tion. 
 
 The term " native " has been used to dis- 
 tinguish the born citizen from the newly ar- 
 rived foreigner, as well as the former from tlie 
 " red man," who was also an emigrant in the 
 view of the lost races that preceded him, and 
 of which monumental traces alone remain in 
 evidence that they ever existed. Tlie history 
 of the human race is a history of migration. 
 Twice has the race comprised only a sin- 
 gle family, occupying a single point on the 
 earth's surface, and twice has it spread in all 
 directions, forming nations and founding em- 
 pires. The antediluvian world was swept 
 away by the deluge, and all traces of the 
 race of Adam had been washed away by the 
 obliterating waters from the earth's surface 
 when the ark gave up its freight. From its 
 door migration was resumed, and three con- 
 tinents owe their populations to the several 
 sons of the patriarch. Asia, Africa, and 
 Europe were settled by Shem, Ham, and 
 Japhet and their descendants, who have 
 stamped their characteristics upon each. 
 From that day to the present, the same re- 
 curring circumstances have from time to 
 time produced the same results. As each 
 locality became overcrowded by increase, the 
 most adventurous sallied forth in quest of 
 new homes, which, in their turn, filled, aad 
 
 overflowed into some more distant region. 
 These successive waters rolling on until the 
 remotest shores of each continent were occu- 
 pied, were succeeded by more formidable 
 hosts of armed invaders, who came, sword in 
 hand, to dispossess occupiers and seize accu- 
 mulated wealth. With the growth of mod- 
 ern civilization migration has no longer a 
 destructive character. It seeks to build up 
 by bringing industry and aid of natural re- 
 sources, rather than to destroy by seizing 
 what others have produced. It is more steady 
 and effective in its commercial character- 
 having industry for a means and prosperity 
 for an object — than in its old form of inva- 
 sion, plundering by force and leaving deso- 
 lation in its train. 
 
 The British Islands were the last subjects 
 of European incursions. The Britons, of 
 mythic origin, were plundered by Norse en- 
 terprise, and the Saxons alternated with the 
 Danes in dominating the nation on the with- 
 drawal of the Romans, to be in tlieir turn 
 subjected to the Normans. Sin e then 800 
 years have been spent in amalgamating the 
 races and in peopling the islands. Even at 
 that date the adventurous Norseman, in 
 search of the whale, had discovered the new 
 continent and formed a colony on what is 
 now known as Newfoundland. It required 
 long centuries, however, in that barbarous 
 age, for the people to struggle successfully 
 against the effects of feudal oppression, civil 
 wars, and their consequences, famine and 
 plague. Nevertheless, progress was made and 
 commerce a good deal developed, when, at 
 the close of the fifteenth century, the dis- 
 covery of the West Indies by Columbus was 
 followed by an influx of the precious metals 
 into Europe, giving a renewed impetus to 
 industry and enterprise. The Spanish were 
 attracted by gold, and the commercial Dutch 
 by the desire to found colonies, and their 
 example was followed by the English and 
 French. In both these cases, however, the 
 desire of civil and religious freedom was a 
 powerful incentive to the emigrants. These 
 motives were more strongly developed when 
 
GENERAL MIGRATION — COLONIES AND UNITED STATES. 
 
 229 
 
 the English revolution began to operate in 
 the first half of the 17th century. The new 
 world was then looked upon as the place of 
 refuge, and Cromwell himself, with his com- 
 panions, were only prevented from migra- 
 ting by the interposition of the government 
 which they afterward overthrew. Of the four 
 leading nations that planted colonies on this 
 continent, the English alone became perma- 
 inently successful. The Spaniards sought gold 
 only. The French settlement of the Missis- 
 sippi was more a financial bubble of Law than 
 a movement ot settlers. The Dutch had not 
 ; sufficient breadth at home to sustain the un- 
 Idertaking; and the English necessarily ab- 
 sorbed the whole, with tiieir steady industry 
 and abiding religious faith. 
 I The disposition to emigrate to America 
 I gradually gained ground as the eighteenth 
 i century a(l\anced, more partiiularly in the 
 I north of Ireland and Scotland, which already 
 ' enjoyed the advantage of some intercourse 
 I with friends in America. Just before the 
 Revolutionary war, this disposition to emi- 
 I grate showed itself strongly. The linen 
 weavers in the northern part of Ireland wore, 
 ^ by the decline in that trade, induced to mi- 
 ^ grate. For two years, 1771 and 1772, sixty- 
 i two vessels left with eighteen thousand pas- 
 • sengers for America, p.aying passages seven- 
 teen dollars each. Most of these were linen 
 i weavers and farmers, possessed of property, 
 and they carried with them so much money 
 ! as to attract the notice of the government. 
 ' The movement, however, continued in 1773 
 I and extended itself to the north of Scotland, 
 whence the highlanders migrated in great 
 numbers. Knox, in his view of the British 
 empire at that time, asserts that in tlie twelve 
 years ending in 1775, about thirty thousand 
 highlanders emigrated, exclusive of the low- 
 landers ; and it was computed that there 
 ! were sixty thousand highlanders citizens of 
 ' the United States in 1799. In the report 
 ' of the committee on the linen manufactures 
 ' in the Irish Parliament in 1774, it is stated 
 ' that the whole emigration from the province 
 of Ulster was estimated at thirty thousand 
 people, of whom ten thousand were weavers, 
 who, with their tools and money, departed 
 ; for America ; thus adding to the numbers 
 ' and wealth in the new world, in the propor- 
 I tion that the British Islands lost from the 
 ' same cause. 
 
 I The breaking out of the War of Inde- 
 ' pendence, naturally interrupted the commu- 
 
 nication between America and the old world ; 
 but with the return of peace, in 1783, the 
 migration revived, notwithstanding the in- 
 credible hardships which at that time at- 
 tended the transit. The shipping was little 
 adapted to the trade, and no special laws 
 protected the rights of the poor emigrant. 
 As an instance of this, it is related that in 
 September, 1784, a ship left Greenock with 
 a large number of passengers, who had paid 
 twenty-five dollars each for their passage. 
 They were robbed of their chests and pro- 
 visions by the master, and one himdred of 
 them turned ashore on the Island of Rathlin, 
 coast of Ireland. Another vessel rescued 
 seventy-six emigrants from a desert island, 
 where they had been turned adrift by the 
 master of a brig, who had engaged to carry 
 them from Dunleary, in Iceland, to Charles- 
 town. In the same year there were great 
 numbers landed at Baltimore, Philadelphia, 
 and elsewhere. Blodgett's Statistical Man- 
 ual, published in 1806, states that from 1784 
 to 1794, the arrivals were four thousand per 
 annum. In the year 1794, ten thousand 
 persons were estimated to have arrived in 
 the United States. Adam Seybert, a mem- 
 ber of the House of Representatives, in his 
 " Statistical Annals," admitting the number 
 for that year, states that so large a move- 
 ment did not again occur until 1817. 
 
 When the colonies separated from the 
 mother country, the population of the latter 
 was, for England and Wales, 7,225,ti00, and 
 about 2,000,000 for Ireland, making to- 
 gether 9,225,<i00 souls, or about one-fourth 
 the present inhabitants of the United States. 
 The population of the newly formed United 
 States in the year 1790 was 3,174,167 
 whites, or about one-third the numbers in 
 England and Wales. The founders of the 
 nation were then not unmindlul of the 
 fact that these three millions of people, 
 occupying 163,746,686 acres of land al- 
 though possessed of a vast territory, had 
 little else to depend upon. Cajiital was 
 scarce, and manufactures had not been per- 
 mitted under imperial rule, hence skilled 
 artisans were not to be found. While all 
 these things were indispensable to the new 
 country, crowds of poorly paid and oppres- 
 sed operatives on the other side of tlie At- 
 lantic were impatient to enjoy the |)rivileges 
 th.at our new form of government held out 
 to them. The French, German, and Eng- 
 lish troops, that returned home after the 
 
230 
 
 IMMIGRATION. 
 
 war, had not only left a portion of (heir 
 
 numbers here as settlers, but had carried 
 home favorable reports of the advantages to 
 be here enjoyed. It was manifestly to the 
 interest of the new government here to in- 
 vite and encourage these settlers, at the 
 same time to guard again~t possible political 
 abuse of the privilege. The new Constitu- 
 tion therefore required Congress to pass 
 uniform laws for n^ituralization. This was 
 not done until April 14th, 1802, when the 
 regulations that have since mainly continued 
 were enacted. By that law, those aliens 
 who were in the country prior to 1795 
 might be admitted to citizenship on proof 
 of two years' continuous residence in the 
 "United States, sustaining a good moral char- 
 acter, and .abjuring allegiance to foreign 
 nations. Any .alien arriving in the United 
 States after the passage of the .act was to 
 comply with the following conditions : 
 
 1. lie shall, before some compent court, 
 swear, at least tliree years before his admis- 
 sion, that it is his bona fide intention to re- 
 nounce forever all allegiance to any sove- 
 reign state to which he was a subject. 
 
 2. lie shall swear to support the Consti- 
 tution of the United States. 
 
 3. Piefore he can be admitted he must 
 show that he has resided within the United 
 States five years, and within the jurisdiction 
 of the court one year. He must also show 
 that he has been of good moral character, 
 and well disposed to the happiness of the 
 United States. 
 
 4. He must renounce all titles of nobility. 
 The law of March 3, 1813, required that the 
 residence of five years should have been con- 
 tinuous in the United States. This restric- 
 tion was repealed Jan. 26, 1848. The Law 
 of May 2G, 1824, reduced the term of notice 
 of intentions from three to two years. 
 These were the chief regulations of the fed- 
 eral government in relation to naturalization. 
 Many of the states have, however, from time 
 to time, passed laws relative to immigrants, 
 importation of paupers, convicts, lunatics, 
 etc. New York and many other states have 
 laws requiring of the owner, or master, or 
 consignee of the passenger ship, a well se- 
 cured bond to the people of the state .against 
 loss for the relief or support of such pas- 
 sengers. In lieu of this bond, commutation 
 money may be paid. 
 
 The federal government having smoothed 
 the way, the migration proceeded until 
 
 unfriendly relations between the United 
 States and Great Britain, growing out of the 
 wars of Europe, checked intercourse. The 
 claim enforced by Great Britain to the prin- 
 ciple, " Once a subject always a subject," 
 served to take from emigrants the security 
 they sought under the American fliig ; and 
 in 1806 Great Britain declared France in a 
 state of blockade, and France retorted upon 
 the British Isles. These proceedings being 
 succeeded by others, compelled the United 
 States, in 1 809, to prohibit intercoiu-se with 
 France and Great IJritain. In 1810 K;i o- 
 leon annulled his decree, but Gre.at Britain 
 continued her vexations, seizing American 
 seamen, and riding rough-shod over their 
 rights. The einbai'go was then succeeded 
 by the war of 1812, during which migration 
 was very limited. In February, 1815, peace 
 was concluded, and the stream of migration, 
 long pent up, resumed its flow with greater 
 force The accommodation was, of course, 
 limited, and the more restrained that a law 
 of Parliament restricted the number that 
 might be carried to the United States to one 
 for every five tons, although one for every 
 two tons might be carried to any other coun- 
 try. In the year 1H17, 22,240 persons ar- 
 rived in the United States, including Ameri- 
 cans who returned home. This large mi- 
 gration was attended with immense suffering. 
 The attention of Congress was called to it, 
 and a law was passed, March 2, 1819, to 
 regulate the transportation of passengers. 
 This act limited the number to two for every 
 five tons of measurement, and provided for 
 an ample allowance of food and fuel. AVhen 
 the famine of 1846-7 gave a new impulse 
 to the movement, more complete laws were 
 found requisite, and a number were passed. 
 March 3, 1857, the present passenger act 
 was enacted, repealing all former laws upon 
 the subject, which with some slight modifica- 
 tions since made, establishes the regulations 
 now in force. It regulates the space for 
 each passenger, the number of berths, ven- 
 tilation and w.arming, and the kind and 
 quantity of food to be furnislud by the ship 
 and how it is to be dealt out, and if any pas- 
 senger is put on short allowance, the mas- 
 ter or owner shall jiay him three dollars each 
 day of short allowance. 
 
 The first accounts of the numbers of im- 
 migrants commenced in 1820, under the law 
 of 1819. The following table shows the num- 
 ber of emigrants for fifty years. 
 
GENERAL MIGRATION COLONIES AND UNITED STATES. 
 
 231 
 
 The ndubek of Alibn Passengers arrived in the United States from Foreign Codntries, from 
 Government to the 31sr of I>ecember, 1870. The dates are incldsive 
 
 the commencemekt of the 
 
 COU.NTIES. 
 
 Prior to 1820. 
 
 1820 to 1830. 
 
 1831 to 1840. 1841 to 1850. 1851 to I860.' 1801 to 1869.1 Aggregate. 
 
 
 
 15,037 
 
 27,106 
 
 3,180 
 
 170 
 
 35 ,.534 
 
 7,611 
 
 29,188 
 
 2,667 
 
 185 
 
 243,540 
 
 32,092 
 
 162,332 
 
 3,712 
 
 1,261 
 
 848,366 
 
 247 1*^5 1 l.'^4 0.^ 
 
 466,704 
 
 1,360,061 
 
 72,803 
 
 11,763 
 
 1,805,440 
 
 
 
 748,740 
 
 38,331 
 
 6,319 
 
 297,678 
 
 392,685 
 
 24,913 
 
 3,828 
 
 389,422 
 
 
 
 Wales ,. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 81,827 
 
 7,683 
 146 
 
 283,191 
 
 148,204 
 4,260 
 
 1,067,763 
 
 422.477 
 12,149 
 
 1,338,093 
 
 907,780 
 43,887 
 
 956,887 
 
 690.2S8 
 
 39,949 
 
 4,114 
 
 93,434 
 
 14,844 
 
 8,609 
 
 34,162 
 
 21,365 
 
 6,-377 
 
 6,455 
 
 1,790 
 
 9,856 
 
 73 
 
 115 
 
 8 
 
 67 
 
 1,905 
 
 1,955 
 
 487 
 
 124 
 
 3,706,761 
 
 2,176.332 
 
 100,372 
 
 4,115 
 
 129,563 
 
 20,384 
 
 39,148 
 
 242,226 
 
 69,093 
 
 16,239 
 
 22,703 
 
 4,404 
 
 21,053 
 
 2,103 
 
 675 
 
 127 
 
 183 
 
 3,279 
 
 3,614 
 
 487 
 
 294 
 
 626 
 
 97.659 
 
 185 
 
 176 
 
 33 
 
 4 
 
 25 
 
 27 
 
 79 
 
 60 
 
 12 
 
 5 
 
 5 
 
 453 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 94 
 
 1S9 
 
 1,127 
 
 8,868 
 
 3,257 
 
 28 
 
 2,616 
 
 180 
 
 389 
 
 22 
 
 17 
 
 1 
 
 20 
 
 89 
 
 21 
 
 1,201 
 
 1,063 
 
 1,112 
 
 46,575 
 
 4,821 
 
 22 
 
 2,125 
 
 829 
 
 2,211 
 
 35 
 
 35 
 
 49 
 
 277 
 
 369 
 
 13,903 
 
 639 
 
 8,251 
 
 77,262 
 
 4,644 
 
 5,074 
 
 2,209 
 
 650 
 
 1,590 
 
 221 
 
 79 
 
 78 
 
 16 
 
 661 
 
 105 
 
 20 931 
 3,749 
 
 10,789 
 
 79,358 
 
 25,011 
 
 4,738 
 
 9,298 
 
 1.055 
 
 7,012 
 
 1,790 
 
 426 
 
 6 
 
 31 
 
 457 
 
 1,164 
 
 Denmark 
 
 
 Holland 
 
 
 France 
 
 
 
 
 Belgium 
 
 
 
 
 Portugal 
 
 
 
 
 S.anliuia 
 
 
 Sicily 
 
 
 Malta 
 
 
 Greece 
 
 
 Russia 
 
 
 Poland 
 
 
 
 
 Turkey 
 
 
 21 
 2 
 3 
 
 7 
 
 69 
 51 
 35 
 
 83 
 
 427 
 
 41,397 
 
 Europe, not specified 
 
 
 
 
 8 
 
 66,116 
 185 
 49 
 S3 
 4 
 3 
 
 
 
 
 
 9 
 
 39 
 
 36 
 
 43 
 
 Arabia 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Persia 
 
 
 
 
 
 7 
 4 
 
 15 
 19 
 
 Asia, not specified 
 
 
 3 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 Cape of Good llope 
 
 
 77 
 
 31 
 
 8 
 
 5 
 
 
 
 8 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 5 
 
 Egypt 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Morocco 
 
 
 
 4 
 36 
 
 1 
 
 47 
 
 2 
 
 41,723 
 
 3,271 
 
 363 
 
 
 
 
 10 
 
 186 
 
 179 
 
 Algiers 
 
 
 British America 
 
 
 2,486 
 
 4,818 
 
 107 
 
 13,624 
 
 6,599 
 
 44 
 
 69,309 
 
 3,078 
 
 449 
 
 114,009 
 
 1,923 
 
 71 
 
 43 
 
 38 
 
 36 
 
 26 
 
 40 
 
 7 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 1,163 
 
 3,693 
 
 84 
 
 80 
 
 42 
 
 4,787 
 
 129 
 
 75 
 
 20 
 
 2.31,151 
 
 19,691 
 
 1,039 
 
 43 
 
 38 
 
 36 
 
 26 
 
 40 
 
 7 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 7 364 
 
 
 
 
 
 Guiana 
 
 
 Venezuela 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Peru 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Cliili 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Brazil 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Buenos Ayres 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Bolivia 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 New Grenada 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Paraguay 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 543 
 
 856 
 
 3,679 
 
 1,224 
 
 Cuba 
 
 
 3,593 
 
 84 
 
 80 
 
 42 
 
 45,274 
 
 233 
 
 154 
 
 99 
 
 3 
 
 8 
 
 Jamaica 
 
 Hayti 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 A\est Indies, not specified... 
 
 
 3,998 
 2 
 1 
 79 
 
 12,301 
 3 
 6 
 
 13,528 
 
 10,660 
 104 
 44 
 
 
 
 Sandwich Islands 
 
 
 28 
 
 East India Islands 
 
 
 Isle of France 
 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 4 
 6 
 
 4 
 
 Society Islands 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 Islands of Pacific, not spec'd 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 3,083 
 
 63 
 
 42 
 
 9 
 
 9 
 
 4 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 34,754 
 
 2 
 
 Azores 
 
 
 13 
 
 29 
 
 327 
 
 2,873 
 
 6,325 
 
 68 
 
 71 
 
 323 
 
 26 
 
 290 
 
 3 
 
 11 
 
 462,603 
 
 9 
 
 4 
 
 Bermudas 
 
 
 Cape de Verdes 
 
 
 4 
 
 70 
 
 15 
 52 
 1 
 6 
 
 3 
 3 
 3 
 1 
 
 189 
 
 13 
 
 8 
 
 Madeira 
 
 
 St. Helena 
 
 
 
 271 
 
 Miquelon 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 10 
 25,438 
 
 Countries not specified 
 
 Corsica 
 
 260,000 
 
 32,892 
 2 
 4 
 
 69,799' 
 
 6 
 
 52,725 
 2 
 
 Barbary States ] 
 
 
 
 Aggregate 
 
 Add emigration to I)e< . 31 , 70 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 250,000 
 
 151,824 
 
 599,125 
 
 1,713,225 
 
 2,698,214 
 
 2,112,655 
 339,046 
 
 7,425,069 
 339,046 
 
 Total from the beginning of 
 the government to Dec. 31. 
 1870 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 2,451,701 
 
 7,766,511 
 
232 
 
 IMMIGRATION. 
 
 The returns gave the number from Great 
 Britain in many cases without distinguishing 
 the particular divisions where all the passen- 
 gers were horn. A very large portion of the 
 whole, however, came from Ireland. The 
 return shows, then, that Irebind and Germany 
 furnish the largest proportion of tlic emi- 
 grants. Other nations liave supplied a 
 greater or less number, but irregularly. 
 8ince 1850, or the era of gold discovery, 
 Asia — mainly China and Ja]ian — have sent 
 about 80 000 emigrants to California. Those 
 do not, however, as a general thing, intend 
 remaining. They are for the most part fitted 
 out with small sums borrowed of friends and 
 neighbors, wiio share in the profits of the 
 adventurer on his return. Numbers of those 
 ■who come from other countries, as France, 
 West Indies, and Southern Europe, as well 
 as to some extent from England, are mer- 
 chants and traveleis, who are not to be em- 
 braced in the aggregate of settlers in new 
 homes. The great sources of migration are, 
 then. British and Ciorman, and the latter are 
 confined mostly to the valley of the Rhine. 
 The people of the north of Europe except 
 the Norse folk seem to have lost the noma- 
 dic character of their ancestors. It is true 
 that then they were led by chiefs and tempt- 
 ed by plunder to overrun the richer countries 
 of tlie west, while at the present day migra- 
 tion has no object but to seek an honest liv- 
 ing ill countries where labor is in demand, 
 and where hospitality and protection await 
 the worker. The Kussian peasants while 
 surfs were not allowed to leave their country, 
 and the Russians in the table are mostly 
 merchants and travelers. The Swede and 
 the Norwegian are more fi-ee in their choice, 
 and since 1800, have emigrated to this coun- 
 try in large numbers, settling mainly in Iowa, 
 Wisconsin, Minnesota, Kansas, and Nebras- 
 ka. Many of them also enter into domestic 
 service in our large cities. The Swiss are to 
 a considerable extent free and thrifty in their 
 mountain homes, but great division-* exist in 
 respect of r.-ligion as well as politics, and 
 there is among them a want of nationality. 
 The cantons of Vaud and Geneva are mostly 
 French, and threaten to become quite so. On 
 the side of the Tyrol the Swiss become Ital- 
 ians. The German Swiss are mostly con- 
 nected with Baden, and are embraced in the 
 German movement. The Hollanders mi- 
 grate to some extent, and often from motives 
 of religion. The Moravian Brethren thus 
 
 founded colonies in Pennsylvania. Go1g| 
 seems, since its discovery m (Jalifornia. toi 
 have stimulated Dutch enterprise. The ital-' 
 ians and Spanish do not migrate in the true 
 sense of the word ; they leave their homesi 
 to some extent for the countries that border! 
 the Mediterranean, but they do not, unless' 
 under the ban of exile, cro-s the Atlantic.^! 
 The Sardinians and Basque Spaniards go to j 
 some extent to the La I-'lata in South Amer-i, 
 ica ; they do not frankly abandon their coun-i' 
 try to adopt a new one. Tl;e French axta' 
 more markedly attached to their native soil 
 and national character, and colonize little; 
 they migrate but moderately. Even Algiers 
 has grown but very slowly under thirty years 
 of governmental fostering care, and there are 
 now but 60,000 French in the colony. Of 
 those French who arrived in the United 
 States up to 1870, about 40 per cent re- 
 mained in the country according to the cen- 
 sus. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 EUROPEAN MIGRATION— FRENCH AND 
 GERMAN— NEW TRADE. 
 
 The peace of 1815, in re-establishing the 
 liberty of the seas, so long suppressed, 
 opened new countries to European com- 
 merce. On the other hand, many interests 
 underwent adverse changes ; numerous ar- 
 mies were newly disbanded, and great num- 
 bers of men were forced to leave home in 
 search of a useful application of their talents 
 and energies. America was to them the chief 
 point of attraction ; those who knew only the 
 trade of arms, offered their swords to the 
 Spanish colonies then fighting for emancipa- 
 tion. Of these a majority found early graves 
 from excess, fatigue, and misery ; many turn- 
 ed their attention to agriculture, and the 
 wi-est sought refuge in the United States, 
 where services were well requited, and the 
 broad territories offered a limitless field for 
 activity. At first the emigrants were iso- 
 lated individuals ; soon entire families went 
 in quest of new homes, and their success was 
 a tempting example to other families, each 
 of whom drew others in their train, until a 
 continuous movement was established from 
 the valley of the Rhine to America. 
 
 This developed a new era in the inter- 
 national commerce. The cotton of the south- 
 ern states had up to that time found a limited 
 
EUROPEAN MIORATIOK. 
 
 233 
 
 market in Havre, but being carried thither 
 in American ships, there being little return 
 freight for those vessels, the cotton was 
 charged with freight both ways, out and 
 home. The moment that considerable num- 
 bers of passengers offered themselves for the 
 return, that trade of itself became an object, 
 affording a profitable home freight. It was 
 then apparent that the light and elegant 
 models of the American ships, which had so 
 well answered the purpo&e of speed and 
 efficiency during the war, were not adapted 
 ito the transportation of passengers. A difier- 
 ;ent style of construction was needed.allowing 
 ;of greater stowage of cotton out, and better 
 accommodation to piissengers, in accordance 
 with the provisions of the law prescribing the 
 room to be allowed to each passenger. This 
 change causing greater attractions to the 
 American ships, drew increasing crowds from 
 the valley of the Rhine across France to 
 Havre. Many of these poor people could 
 raise only the sum needful for the passage, 
 uid depended upon begging their way 
 i.n>ss France to the port. These crowds 
 jf beggars alarmed the government, and it 
 look measures to stop them. It was ordered 
 hat no one should be admitted to cross 
 Prance unless he had previously paid his 
 passage in the ship, was possessed of §150 
 lor every member of the family over eigh- 
 teen years of age, and had his passport 
 tigned by the French embassador at Frank- 
 fort. The effect of these absurd regulations 
 jvas to destroy the trade of Havre, and turn 
 he migration down the Ithine to Antwerp, 
 Jrcmen, and ilamlnirg. The Havre mer- 
 chants made great efforts to remedy the evil 
 i>y sending agents to aid the emigrants, 
 ;ending them the money to pass the frontier, 
 md to be returned immediately after. A 
 Vreat rivalry was thus engendered between 
 he northern ports and Havre, which still 
 iad great advantages in respect of the num- 
 ,»er of American vessels that arrived with 
 fotton, and finally the obstacles interposed 
 iy the government were removed. The 
 dty of Bremen was prompt to take advan- 
 aiitage of the error of the French govern- 
 nent, and used every effort to attract the 
 anigrants to that port, by granting facilities 
 .nd protecting thcra from imposition. A 
 aw was passed regulating in the most min- 
 ite particular the accommodations to be 
 jiven to emigrants on shipboard. They are 
 lot to be taken on board until the moment 
 if departure. To accommodate them prior 
 
 to shipment, an immense building was con- 
 structed to hold 2,000 people ; it has a front 
 of 200 feet, and is 100 in depth. It has 
 public rooms, sleeping apartments, kitchens, 
 baggage-rooms, etc., and is warmed by steam 
 throughout. There are also chapels for cath- 
 olic and protestant worship, and a hospital, 
 with thirty-three beds. The price charged 
 with board is fourteen cents per day. By 
 these and other means Bremen has acquired 
 a large share of the emigrant business. 
 Hamburg did not make the same efforts ; and 
 it is only recently that societies for the pro- 
 tection of emigrants have been there formed. 
 
 The Germans formerly preferred to cm- 
 bark at Havre, Southampton, or Liverpool, 
 and on American ^hips, to sailing ii-om Ger- 
 man German ports and on German ships ; 
 but a change has t;\ken place in this respect 
 of late years. The German steamers, of 
 which there are now three or four lines, are 
 much better than formerly, and liaving good 
 steerage accoinmodaiions, make the passage 
 in KJor 14 days. The French steamships 
 do not carry emigrants, and as u result of the 
 hue war, there are few American steamers 
 running regularly to Europe. Emigration 
 liy sailing vessels is seldom attempted now, 
 and only by the lowest class of emigrants. 
 There are numbers who go from Rotterdam, 
 Ostend, or Hamburg, to England, and depart 
 thence to their final destination. From Bre- 
 men the emigrant ships go to a greater va- 
 riety of pons than from Havre. Tiie United 
 States is, liowever, the ultimate destination 
 of nearly all. 
 
 The motives that impel German migration 
 arc variously understood. The reports of the 
 inimerous emigration societies give evidence 
 of the highest traits of character. The Ger- 
 man is described as a persevering worker, 
 seeking to ameliorate his condition. He is 
 always ready to go where his services will be 
 the best paid, and certain professions have 
 long been pursued by him in all countries. 
 If his feeling of nativity is strong, his love 
 of family is still stronger. And, moreover, the 
 Teutonic race may now be said to be at 
 home on half the entire globe. There are, 
 however, other motives, and these are evi- 
 dently the desire to find civil, political, and 
 religious libert}', of which they have not the 
 perfect enjoyment at home. The Gennans 
 have never succeeded in founding colonies 
 of their own under good government, but 
 they are a valuable acquisition where others 
 have established liberty and order. They 
 
234 
 
 IMMIGRATION. 
 
 seek exemption from military service. Tliey 
 wish to contribute in just proportion to the 
 public expenses, of which they enjoy the 
 benefits, as equal citizens. They seek to 
 escape the trammels of corporations. They 
 wish also freely to dispose of the fruits of 
 their own industry, and by so doing to avoid 
 the misery of destitution. All this that they 
 seek is evidently that which they have not 
 got, or at least very imperfectly, at home. 
 
 AVliile Germany was divided into many 
 petty states, their division, which materially 
 checked industry and increased the taxa 
 tion, was itself an exceedingly strong incen- 
 tive to emigration ; and before their confed- 
 eration into one government was fully accom- 
 plished, almost every family had its repre- 
 sentatives here, and the tendency had become 
 so strong for a home in the '• land of prom- 
 ise," that no political changes could greatly 
 affect it. 
 
 The German governments have all, more 
 or less, occupied themselves with the ques- 
 tion of migration, and in some cases have 
 sought to check it. Among those attempts 
 was that by Prus^sia to found agricultural 
 colonies. The king oftered lands in the 
 duchy of Posen, and agents were sent among 
 the emigrants from the valle}' of the Rhine. 
 The conditions were, that the settlers should 
 not leave the country without permission, 
 and never without having performed military 
 service. 
 
 These, it may be supposed, were without 
 success. Emigrant agents are, by some 
 governments, required to submit to regula- 
 tions; sometimes the number is limited, and 
 sometimes they must give security. In Ba- 
 varia only two houses are authorized to treat 
 with emigrants for their passages across 
 France, and the contracts must be inspected 
 by the consul at Havre. There results a 
 large clandestine emigration to avoid these 
 restrictions, and at the frontiers numerous 
 agents are ready to assist — a sort of under- 
 ground railroad. The governments of Wur- 
 temberg, Baden, and the two Ilesses, are less 
 rigorous, but nowhere can passports be ob- 
 tained until every effort has been made to 
 dissuade the emigrant. In case he persists, 
 he must renounce all rights of citizenship 
 and nationalitj'. On the other hand, meas- 
 ures arc taken to aid the emigrant. When 
 the cause of departure is destitution, the 
 communes and the government subscribe, 
 while stipulating that the emigrant shall 
 renounce all right to ufterior aid. All the 
 
 persons so aided go from one canton together. 
 When the emigrants pay their own expenses 
 and have a small capital, bands of numerous 
 families from divers points assemble and de- 
 part together. Political exiles are very few, 
 but these have generally consideraljle means. 
 It is melancholy, however, to reflect in 
 how great a degree destitution becomes the 
 cause of migration. Singularly enougli, the 
 valley of the Rhine, of which the German 
 poets sing the beaut}' and the fertility, is 
 precisely the spot, of all Europe, where the 
 misery of Ireland is most nearly reproduced. 
 From the Lake of Constance to the frontiers 
 of Holland, that famous valley has so long 
 felt the oppression of feudalism and been 
 the battle-field of contending powers, as to 
 have become completely impoverished. In 
 the duchy of Baden the day's wages of a 
 skilled workman is twent3'-eight cents — a sum 
 which may sustain life in a year of good har- 
 vest, but which is utterly insufficient in time 
 of dearth, as in 1846, when potatoes became 
 diseased. The insurrection of 1849 added 
 to the calamities, and in 1852, of a popula- 
 tion of 1,. 350,943 souls, 14,400 emigrated, 
 or one per cent in one year. The thrift and 
 endurance of the Germans are well devel- 
 oped in a land of such hardships, and on 
 their arrival in the United States they are 
 not slow in turning their persevering indus- 
 try to account. It is singular that the dis- 
 tress and destitution which centuries of 
 misrule have produced in Ireland, so famed 
 for its natural advantages, should be repro- 
 duced in Europe only in the Rhino valley, 
 the garden of Europe. Tlie two localities 
 best endowed by nature are precisely those 
 where man is most anxious to escape by mi- 
 gration from an accumulation of miseries. 
 The highest nngration from Gernumy, 1'}' 
 the four ports of ILunburg, Havre, Antwerp, 
 and Bremen, rose to 203,537 in 1854. The 
 movement has since declined, fluctuating 
 with the harvests. There are, however, con- 
 siderable numbers who go, by other convey- 
 ance from those ports than the emigrant 
 ships, to Liverpool, and embark thence for 
 Americiu This aggregate German move- 
 ment has come of late years to rival, and in 
 some cases to exceed the broad stream ot 
 British migration. Tlie migration from 
 Great Britain has alw.ays been largest in tin' 
 years of dear food, and it has again subsided 
 when good har\'ests have diminished tlic 
 prices of bread. Tlie number that went 
 abroad in 1843 was 57,212, and it continued 
 
EUROPEAN MIGRATION. 
 
 235 
 
 to augment year by year until it reached 
 '368,764 in the year 1852. Several causes 
 concurred to produce this increase. The 
 first was the famine of 1845-46-47, and the 
 'consequent means adopted by the British 
 Igovernment for the relief of Ireland ; the 
 second was the gold fever, which carried off 
 thousands; and the third was the prosperity 
 of the emigrants in the United States, where 
 ■railroad building and other employments 
 gave the means to send for friends in unu- 
 'sual numbers. The most important cause 
 ■was, probably, the condition of Ireland. 
 'The conquest of that country, which was 
 Icommenced seven centuries since, is but now 
 'being completed. We now see the insub- 
 missive Celts quitting, with the aid of their 
 iconquerors, the disputed country, to seek 
 ;new homes beyond the seas. They cannot 
 lassimilate to the conquering race, and not 
 being able to defend tliemselves, they aban- 
 don the country rather tlian submit. Du- 
 ring all the time of religious persecution, 
 jfrom the reign of Henry VIII. to George III., 
 |the economical condition of Ireland was de- 
 'plorable, and misery made incessant prog- 
 'ress. The landed population became in- 
 Ivolved in debt, and a fatal subdivision of 
 Ithe land was introduced in the mode of cul- 
 Iture. Farms were subdivided as fast as the 
 I people multiplied, which was fully equal to 
 'the proverbial fecundity of a state of ex- 
 treme poverty, and the potato came to be the 
 sole dependence of all for food. The sud- 
 den destruction of that dependence by rot 
 was an overwhelming calamitv, that broutiht 
 matters to a crisis. It was felt that migra- 
 tion could not remedy the evil, but that a 
 radical change in a wrong system was be- 
 come indispensable. The system pursued 
 had been for the landlords, mostly in debt, 
 to absent themselves altogether. The land 
 was then taken by " middle men," at a rate 
 ! which hardly met the interest on incum- 
 ■ brances. This land was then parcelled out to 
 the poor cotters in lots down to one-fi lurth acre 
 ' or less, mere patches, at rates which gave a 
 ! large aggregate rent to the " middle man." 
 ' Those patches were planted with potatoes, 
 ; which were the sole dependence of the 
 family for food in the year. They were 
 ' gathered, when ripe, into a pile, and that 
 ' pile diminished by daily consumption until 
 ' an approaching new crop found it exhausted. 
 The supply of food for the year depended 
 ' entirely upon the amount of the crop. Its 
 ' yield was the sole dependence of the family 
 
 to sustain life. The cotter had no property 
 or capital of any kind to be made available 
 in case of emergency. His only means of 
 paying rent was an annual migration to 
 England in harvest time to earn the necessa- 
 ry sum. That done, the balance of the year 
 was idly spent in watching the sinking pile 
 of potatoes. It may well be imagined how 
 great was the horror that seized such a peo- 
 ple when the sole barrier between themselves 
 and starvation was found rotten, suddenly 
 perishing under their eyes. The scenes that 
 followed were awful to contemplate. All 
 that could, fled, and these were mostly the 
 robust males, leaving the infirm, the old, and 
 the young to encounter the slow death that 
 was gradually approaching, and which over- 
 took multitudes. The greatest efforts were 
 made by the British government to purchase 
 and distribute food, and to employ hands 
 upon roads. At one time over 500,000 
 were so emploj'ed. The introduction of the 
 Indian corn was attempted as a substitute ; 
 but it was nearly impossible amid a people 
 entirely ignorant of its use. Hand-mills 
 were furnished to grind it, and the priests 
 and others used great exertions to teach 
 them to cook it. It was frequently the case, 
 however, that the grain did not agree with 
 the people, but exhibited poisonous effects 
 on being eaten. The body swelled, and se- 
 vere illness ensued. Migration and famine 
 did its work in spite of all efforts of human- 
 ity, and the census of 1851 showed how 
 awful had been the havoc. 
 
 The population of Ireland has been as 
 follows, per official reports : — 
 
 1821, 6,801,827 
 1831, 7,707,401 
 1841, 8,222,604 
 
 D«crease from 1841- 
 
 1851, 6.623,984 
 1861, 5,850,309 
 1871, 5,402,759 
 
 -30 years, 2,819,905 
 
 In the ten years ending with 1831, the 
 increase was one and a half per cent, per 
 annum. From that date to 1841 it was 
 nine-tenths of one per cent, and that was a 
 period of much comparative prosperity. The 
 crops were still good, and the failure of the 
 English wheat crops in 1837 raised the prices 
 of Irish grain, and gave much employment to 
 its agriculturists. If it had continued the same 
 rate up to 1847, the famine year, the popula- 
 tion would then have been 8,616,680 souls, 
 when the migration took place in large num- 
 bers, and continued the succeeding thirteen 
 \-ears down to 1859. The same increase in 
 that thirteen years would have made the 
 
236 
 
 IMMIGRATION. 
 
 population 9,651,678 persons, or as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 Population i-,1 1841 8,175,124 
 
 Ten yeai-s' increase at 9 per ceut 735,761 
 
 The population slionld have been in 1851 8,910,885 
 Actual population 0,553,^91 
 
 Loss by famine and migration 2,3r)7,594 
 
 Nnmbcr cmijjjrated. 1,422,000 
 
 l'o|inlation in 1851 C,623,982 
 
 Ten years' increase at 9 per cent 595,501) 
 
 The population should have been in 1861 7,148,791 
 Actual population 5,850,309 
 
 Loss by niigration, etc 1 ,298 482 
 
 Number eniiynited 1 ,972,499 
 
 In tlie famine j'ears, up to 1851, 935,594 
 persons di.sa|i|X':ired more than were account- 
 ed for liy m gration. From 1.S51 to 18G1, 
 there migi-ated 074.017 more persons than 
 .should have been lost by the census. The 
 numbers who have returned were for a time, 
 it is known, upwards of twenty thousand 
 per annum, anil tlie.-e carried back much 
 larger sums than they bronglit with them. 
 
 In this view the emigration reacted upon 
 the northern states, the emigrants carrying 
 oif all that they have created. The whole 
 operation above was as follows fur lifteen 
 years : — 
 
 Topnlation in 1847 8,616,680 
 
 1861 5,850, yoit 
 
 Decreased 2,766,.-!71 
 
 Eniijjrrated 3,393,499 
 
 Excess 372,872 
 
 Carr^'iiif; forward the estimate, the 
 
 poiiulation in 1861 was 5,850,309 
 
 Ten years' increase at 9 per cent. . . 526,527 
 
 The jiopulation should have been in 
 
 1871 6,376.836 
 
 Actual population 5,402,759 
 
 A loss by nii;;ration, etc., of 974,077 
 
 The first reformatorv eflForts of the English 
 government were to thrnw the support of the 
 Irish poor upon the parishes, and as the tax 
 became onerous the forced sale of the encum- 
 bered estates was authorized. The two mea- 
 sures liave succeeded. The land has passed 
 into thrifty hands ; the hankru])t landlord is 
 dispossessed, and the extortionate " middle 
 man" is abolished ; and the excessively poor 
 population has been purged oft" by migra- 
 tion. The " clearing of the lands" was in 
 many cases conducted with nnich barbarity. 
 The little huts of the peasants were pulled 
 
 or burned down, and the hapless people 
 driven forth to seek homes beyond the seas 
 as they best could. In other cases the land- 
 lords, the government, or societies furnished 
 the means of shipments. The government 
 soon found the necessity of interposing by 
 law, as the United States had done, to pro- 
 tect them from the rapacity of shippers and 
 their ageubs. The law of 1849 was passed 
 with that object. By its provisions no ship 
 shall carry more than one person for every 
 two registered tons; nor shall there be more 
 than one person fur every twelve superficial 
 feet on the main deck and below it. The 
 size, number, and construction of the berths 
 are regulated, and the captain is required to 
 issue food as follows to each person twice a 
 week : — 
 
 Bread 2^ lbs. 
 
 Wheat Flour 1 " 
 
 Oatmeal 5 " 
 
 liiee 2 " 
 
 Tea 2 oz. 
 
 Sugar i lb. 
 
 Molasses i " 
 
 A surgeon must be carried where there 
 arc one hundred or more passengers, and 
 many other regulations that experience lias 
 pointed out as necessary, are enforced upon 
 the carriers. The food is to be furnished 
 entirely irrespective of the price of the pas- 
 sage, which fiui'tnatcs almost daily between 
 $10 and 1^24 each adult, and half price for 
 children. The starving and destitute race 
 each vcar sends forth crowds from all parts 
 of Ireland to embark at Liverpool. The 
 means arc mostly furnished by Irish in 
 America, who consider it their duty to 
 appropriate their first earnings in their new 
 homes to the rescue of their relatives, and 
 small remittances, aggregating millions in a 
 year, find the way into every cabin and 
 Workhouse as messengers of life to the des- 
 pairing. Those poor people, once started 
 on their travels, encounter numerous perils 
 before reaching their destination. As soon 
 as a j)artv of emigrants arrives in Liverpool, 
 they are beset by a tribe of people, both 
 male and female, who are known by the 
 name of " man-catchers" and " runners." 
 The business of these people is, in common 
 parlance, to " fleece" the emigrant, and to 
 draw from his pocket, by fair means or by 
 foul, as nuich of his cash as he can be per- 
 suaded, inveigled, or bullied into parting 
 with. The first division of the man-catching 
 fraternity are those w ho trade in commissiona 
 
EUROPEAN MIGRATION. 
 
 237 
 
 on the passage money, and call themselves 
 the " runners" or agents of the passenger 
 brokers. The business of the passenger 
 broker is a legitimate and necessary one. 
 Under the passenger act of the 12th and 
 13th Victoria cap. 3, the licenses of all the 
 passenger brokers expired on the 1st of 
 February, 1850, subject to renewal after 
 their being approved of by the government 
 emigration agent, and to their entering into 
 bonds, with two sureties, in the sum of 
 $1,000, for the due fulfilment of all the re- 
 quirements of the act of Parliament relating 
 to the comfort and security of emigrants. 
 The passenger brokers at Liverpool, in com- 
 mon with the unwary and unsuspecting emi- 
 grants, have suffered greatly from the mal- 
 practices of the " runners," who pretend to 
 be their agents. These man-catchers pro- 
 cure whatever sums they can from emigrants 
 as passage money — perhaps $25 or $30, or 
 even more — and pay as little as they can to 
 the passenger broker, whose business they 
 thus assume — often as little as £3, or £3 5s. 
 In addition to these large and knavish prof- 
 its, they demand a commission of seven and 
 a half per cent, from the passenger broker, 
 and they have been often known to obtain 
 and enforce this eonmiission, although their 
 whole concern in the matter may have been 
 to watch the number of emigrants going 
 into or coming out of the brokery otflce, 
 and to put in a claim for having brought or 
 " caught" them. 
 
 To form an idea of the sums paid in any 
 one year as commission to the man-catchers, 
 in the item of passage money, we have but 
 to take the total steerage emigi-ation of that 
 year and multiply it by £3 10s., or seven- 
 teen dollars — the average amount of passage 
 money — and calculate what a per-centage of 
 seven and a half per cent, would amount to. 
 The total steerage emigration of 1859 was 
 one hundred and forty-six thousand one 
 hundred and sixty-two souls, which, at seven- 
 teen dollars a head, would amount to no 
 less than two million fmrhundred and eighty- 
 four thousand seven hundred and fifty-four 
 dollars, on which, taking the commission at 
 the low rate of six per cent., they draw one 
 hundred and forty-nine thousand and forty 
 dollars, which is generally stated to be about 
 the sum actually paid to this particular class 
 of people, on the average of the last three 
 years, by the passengec-brokers of Liverpool. 
 But these are not the only class of the man- 
 catching fraternity, nor do they confine their 
 
 operations to an exorbitant profit upon pas" 
 sage money. The man-catchers keep lodging- 
 houses for emigrants — wretched cellars and 
 rooms, destitute of comfort and convenience, 
 in which they cram them as thickly as the 
 place can hold. The extra profits they draw 
 iVum this source cannot be inferior in amount 
 to their previouslv mentioned gains, and the 
 cherished hoards of the poor pay a large per- 
 centage to their unscrupulous rapacity. 
 
 In addition to this trade, some of them 
 deal in the various articles composing the 
 outfit of emigrants, such as bedding, clothes, 
 food, cooking utensils, and the nick-nacks 
 of all kinds which they can persuade them 
 to purchase. Some of the store-keepers in 
 this line of business pay their "runners" or 
 " man-catchers " as much as ten per cent, com- 
 mission on the purchases ett'ected by the 
 emigrants, from whicli the reader may form 
 some estimate of the enormous plunder that 
 must be drained from the poor ignorant peo- 
 ple. As every emigrant must provide his 
 own bedding, the sale of mattresses, blankets, 
 and counterpanes, enters largely into this 
 trade. After the bedding is provided, the 
 man-catchers, who are principally Irishmen 
 themselves, and know both the strength and 
 weakness of the Irish character, fasten upon 
 their countrymen — many of whom, poor and 
 miserable as they look, have sovereigns se- 
 curely stitched amid the patches of their 
 tattered garments — and persuade them into 
 the purchase of various articles, both useful 
 and useless. Among these may be mentioned 
 clothes of all kinds — shirts, trowsers, waist- 
 coats, shawls, petticoats, south-westers, caps, 
 boots and slioes, slippers, cooking utensils, 
 cans for the daily allowance of water, and 
 tins to hold their meal, rice, and sugar. Pro- 
 visions, such as bacon, herrings, salt beef, and 
 other articles not found them on board, and 
 luxuries, in which whiskey and tobacco are 
 generally included, come next on the list, 
 after reiterated assurances from the man- 
 catchers that no emigrant will bo taken on 
 board without them. These being provided, 
 and an Irishman being easily squeezeable 
 when a friend and a countryman is the man- 
 catcher who has him in hand, and when he 
 fears that his passage-money will be lost for 
 non-compliance with the regulations, his 
 attention is next directed to such articles as 
 pocket-mirrors, razors, bowie-knives, pistols, 
 telescopes, etc. 
 
 The stranger in Liverpool, who takes a 
 walk in the immediate vicinity of the Water- 
 
238 
 
 IMMIGRATION. 
 
 loo Dock, whence the greater number of 
 emigrant vessels take their departure, will 
 see a profuse display of the various articles 
 upon which the man-catcher makes his 
 gains — articles generally of the most inferior 
 quality, and sold at the most extravagant and 
 ridiculous prices. The man-catching busi- 
 ness, in all its various departments, has been 
 reduced to a regular system, and no London 
 sharper can be more sharp than the Liverpool 
 runners. Perhaps the most complicated and 
 ingenious trick is the following : When a 
 steam-vessel laden with emigrants leaves an 
 Irish port for Liverpool, one of the Liverpool 
 fraternity, dressed up as a raw Irishman, with 
 the usual long-tailed, ragged, and patched 
 gray frieze coat, tlie battered and napless hat, 
 the dirty unbuttoned knee-breeches, the black 
 stockings, the shillelah, and the short pipe, 
 takes his place among them, and pretends to 
 be an emigrant. Before the vessel arrives at 
 Liverpool he manages to make acquaintance 
 with the greater portion of them, learns the 
 parish they came from and the names of the 
 relatives whom they have left behind, not 
 forgetting those of the parish priest and the 
 principal people of the neighborhood, lie 
 also ascertains the names of the friends in 
 America whom they arc going to join. He 
 tells them of the roguery of Liverpool, and 
 warns them against thieves and man-catchers, 
 bidding them take especial care of their 
 money. On arriving at the quay, in Liver- 
 pool, he jumps ashore among the first, where 
 a gang of his co-partners are waiting to re- 
 ceive liim. He speedily communicates to 
 them all the information he has gained, and 
 tlie poor people on stepping ashore are beset 
 by atl'ectionate inquiries about their friends 
 in Ireland, and that good old man the parish 
 priest. They imagine that they liave fortu- 
 nately dropped among old acquaintances, 
 and their friend of the steamboat takes care 
 to infcirni them that he is not going to be 
 "done" by the man-catchers, but will lodge 
 while at Liverpool at su<di and such a place, 
 which he recommends. Thcv cannot imagine 
 that men who know all about the priest and 
 their friends and relatives can mean them 
 any harm, and numbers of them are usually 
 led off in triunijih to the most wretched but 
 most expensive lodging-houses. Once in the 
 power of the man-catchers, a regular siege 
 of their pockets is made, and the poor emi- 
 grant is victimized in a thousand ways for 
 his passage money, for his clothes and uten- 
 sils, and for his food. Even after they have 
 
 drained him as dry as they can, they are loth 
 to part with him entirely, and they write out 
 per next steamer a full, true, and particular 
 account of him — his parish, his relations, his 
 priest, and his estimated stock of money — to 
 a similar gang in New York. Paddy — simple 
 fellow — arrives in New York in due time, 
 and is greeted on landing by the same affec- 
 tionate inquiries. If his eyes have not been 
 opened by woeful experience, he thinks once 
 more that he has fallen among friends, and 
 is led oft' by the " smart" man-catchers of the 
 New York gang, to be robbed of the last 
 farthing that he can be persuaded to part 
 with ; and he is possibly induced to spend 
 tlie savings of years in the purchase of land, 
 supposed to be in the far west, but having 
 no other existence but such as paper and lies 
 can give it. 
 
 It must not be supposed, from the state- 
 ments in reference to the rogueries practised 
 by runners and man-catchers upon the 
 .simple, emigrants themselves do not occa- 
 sionally endeavor to commit frauds, both 
 upon each other and upon the owners and 
 captains of ships. The Irish emigrant, with 
 the passion for hoarding which is so common 
 among liis countrymen, often hides money 
 in his rags, and tells a piteous tale of utter 
 destitution, in order to get a passage at a 
 cheaper rate. The shameless beggary, which 
 is perhaps the greatest vice of the lower 
 classes of Irish, does not always forsake them, 
 even when thev have determined to bid fare- 
 well to the old country ; and I have several 
 times been accosted by men and women, on 
 board emigrant ships in dock, and asked for 
 contributions to help them when they got to 
 New York. " Sure, yer honor, and may the 
 Lord spare you to a long life ; I've paid my 
 last farden for my passage," said a sturdy 
 Irish woman, with a eliild in her arms, when 
 accosted on the qnarter-deck of a fine ship, 
 in the Waterloo I>ock, "and when I get to 
 New York I shall have to beg in the strates, 
 unless yer honor will take pity on me." On 
 being asked to show me her ticket, she said 
 her husband had it ; and her husband — a 
 wretched-loidcing old man — making his ap- 
 pearance and repeating the same story, was 
 pressed to show the document. He did so 
 at last, when it was apparent that he had 
 paid upwards of seventeen pounds — eighty- 
 two dollars and twenty-live cents — for the 
 passage of himself and wife and liis family of 
 five children. "And do you mean to say 
 that you have no money left V was inquired 
 
EUROPEAN MIGRATION. 
 
 239 
 
 of him. " Not one blessed penny," said the 
 man. " No, uor a faidin," said the woman, 
 " and God knows what'll become of us." 
 " Do you know nobody in New York ?" " Not 
 a living sowle, yer honor." " Have you no 
 luggage ?" " Not a stick or a stitch, but the 
 clothes we wear." As the good ship was 
 detained two days beyond her advertised 
 time of sailing, all the emigrants, as usual. 
 Lad liberty to pass to and from the ship to 
 the streets, as caprice or convenience dicta- 
 ted. On the folh.iwing day, this sturdy 
 woman and her husband were seen entering 
 the Waterloo Dock gates with a donkey-cart, 
 tolerably well piled with boxes, bedding, and 
 cooking utensils. When they were dcjwn in 
 the steerage, and she was asked whether that 
 was her luggage, she replied it was. " You said 
 yesterday, however, when you were begging, 
 that you had no luggage." " Sure, it's a hard 
 world, yer honor, and we're poor people — 
 God help us." 
 
 An incident of a kind not very dissimilar 
 occurred on board of another American liner. 
 When the passenger roll was called over, 
 it was found that one man, from the county 
 of Tipperary, had only paid an instalment 
 upon his passage money, and that the sum 
 of $6 each for three persons, or |1S, was 
 still due from him. On being called upon 
 to pay the difference, ho asserted vehemently 
 that he had been told in the broker's otiice 
 that there was no more to pay, and that to 
 ask him for more was to attempt a robbery. 
 The clerk insisted upon the money, and 
 showed him the tickets of other passengers 
 to proxe the correctness of the charge. The 
 man then changed his tone, and declared 
 that he had not a single farthing left in the 
 world, and that it was quite impossible he 
 could pay any more. " Then you and your 
 family will be put on shore," said the clerk, 
 " and lose the money you have already paid." 
 The intending emigrant swore lustily at the 
 injustice, and declared that if put on shore 
 lie would "get an act of Parliament" to put 
 an end to such a system of robbery. The 
 clerk, however, was obdurate, and the man 
 disappeared, muttering as be went that he 
 would have his "act of Parliament to pun- 
 ish the broker, the clerk, and the captain." 
 He returned in a few minutes from below, 
 and, without saying a word of what had 
 happened, and looking as unconcerned as a 
 stranger, coolly presented a £5 note, or 
 $24 25, and asked for his change. Such is 
 a specimen of the rogueries attempted by 
 
 those who have money. Those w ho really have 
 none at all, or who possibly have not suffi- 
 cient to pay their passage, resort to other 
 schemes for crossing the Atlantic at a re- 
 duced rate, or free of charge altogether, and 
 "stow away." This is a practice which is 
 carried on to a great and increasing extent. 
 
 After encountering these perils of poverty 
 and cheating, the crowd becomes finally 
 located on board of ship, and assigned their 
 quarters for the voyage. It is a strange 
 place for the new-comers, and their admiration 
 of the new life they have entered upon be- 
 gins with the first day's issue of regulation 
 food. The experience of most of them in 
 the edible way, has hitherto been confined 
 to "murphys" or, at most, Indian meal, 
 which they heartily detest as " starvation 
 porridge." They now come to the allow- 
 ances, as above, handed them by law. The 
 meal, the tea, the rice, the sugar, and molas- 
 ses prove frequently a puzzler — tea in par- 
 ticular — and it is not unfrequcntly the case 
 that a brawny Pat, who could do a good 
 turn at Donnybrook fair, but whose knowl- 
 edge of drinkables is confined to whisky, 
 will, after gravelv survevint; the tea for a 
 while, deliberately fill his pipe with a por- 
 tion, and smoke it with much satisfac- 
 tion. Others, with more expansive ideas, 
 will at times mix the whole in a mass, and 
 boil it into a thick soup or pudding, well 
 specked with the expanded tea leaves. In- 
 formation comes with experience, however, 
 and the first serious experience is sea-sick- 
 ness, which utterly prostrates them, mind 
 and body, aggra\ating every dirty habit 
 they may have formed. Then is ex- 
 erted the utmost power of the captain to 
 enforce cleanliness ; he usually selects a 
 dozen or two of the more intelligent, and 
 investing them with authority, a general 
 turn-out, and a thorough cleaning every 
 morning, and in all weathers, is compelled. 
 
 By the rigid observance of this rule, much 
 of the former sickness and mortality has 
 been avoided. A voyage of some thirty 
 days usually brings the human freight with- 
 in sight of New York harbor. It almost in- 
 variably occurs that in the first delight of 
 arrival every utensil and article of bedding 
 is pitched overboard. No matter how poor 
 are the people, or how hardly the things 
 may have been come by, over they go ; and 
 cleaning for the landing takes place, llo-vv 
 full of anxieties is that landing ! 
 
240 
 
 IMMIGRATION. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 LANDING IN NKW-YORK— FUTURE HOMES. 
 The Castle Garden, at New York, is allot- 
 ted for the reception of the passen<;crs under 
 the Commission of Emigration, which was 
 organized by law in 1847, and which 
 charges a tax of two dollars per head on 
 each immigrant, applying the proceeds to 
 the support of the needy and destitute 
 among them. The operations of this com- 
 mission have become very extensive. It has 
 charge of the Quarantine. Since its organ- 
 ization it has raised large hospitals on 
 Ward's Island, where the sick are eared for. 
 They are also sent to the Marine Hospital 
 and the New York Hospital, and they re- 
 imburse the towns and counties of the state 
 for the charges they incur for support of 
 poor aliens, and advance money to immigrants 
 on pledge of baggage, without interest. In 
 the year 1S59 82,180 was so advanced to 1G2 
 families, and §2,031 was paid back. The 
 operations of the commission in 1 859 were : — 
 
 Receipis for comnnitation $159,112 
 
 OlIicm' receipts 2a, 454 
 
 Tcitnl receipts 182. 56G 
 
 BalaDce in liaiid, Januarj', 1859 5,C5G 
 
 Office $16,486 
 
 Hospitals 6,380 
 
 Comities for support 23,555 
 
 Castle Garden 34,721 
 
 Agent at Rochester 1,087 
 
 " Albany 2,160 
 
 " Buffalo 2,601 
 
 $188,2 
 
 Ward's Island 54,890 
 
 Marine Hospital 18,360 
 
 Floatin>r •• 4,647 
 
 Forwarding Immigrants, &c.. Sic. 32,130 
 
 Incidental 721 
 
 NUMBER OF PASSENGERS THAT ARRIVED IN EACH YEAR IS THE CNITED STATES FROM EXOLAND, 
 SCOTLAND, GREAT BRITAIN, AND GERMANY, WITH THE TOTAL FROM ALL COUNTRIES. 
 
 
 Eiifilarnl. 
 
 Ireland. 
 
 Scotland. 
 
 Gt. Britain. 
 
 Germany. 
 
 Switzerland 
 
 Prussia. 
 
 Total. 
 
 1820, 
 
 1,782 
 
 1,725 
 
 268 
 
 2,249 
 
 948 
 
 31 
 
 20 
 
 8,385 
 
 1821, 
 
 1,036 
 
 1,518 
 
 293 
 
 1,881 
 
 365 
 
 93 
 
 18 
 
 9,127 
 
 1822, 
 
 856 
 
 1,346 
 
 198 
 
 1,088 
 
 139 
 
 110 
 
 9 
 
 6,911 
 
 1823, 
 
 851 
 
 1,051 
 
 180 
 
 926 
 
 179 
 
 47 
 
 4 
 
 6,354 
 
 1824, 
 
 713 
 
 1,575 
 
 257 
 
 1,064 
 
 224 
 
 253 
 
 6 
 
 7,912 
 
 1825, 
 
 1,002 
 
 4,157 
 
 113 
 
 1,711 
 
 448 
 
 166 
 
 2 
 
 10,199 
 
 1826, 
 
 1,459 
 
 3,333 
 
 230 
 
 2,705 
 
 495 
 
 245 
 
 16 
 
 10,837 
 
 1827, 
 
 2,521 
 
 3,282 
 
 460 
 
 7,689 
 
 435 
 
 297 
 
 7 
 
 18,875 
 
 1828, 
 
 2,735 
 
 5,266 
 
 1,041 
 
 8,798 
 
 1,806 
 
 1,692 
 
 45 
 
 27,382 
 
 1829, 
 
 2,149 
 
 3,106 
 
 111 
 
 6,228 
 
 582 
 
 314 
 
 15 
 
 22,520 
 
 1830, 
 
 733 
 
 747 
 
 29 
 
 2,365 
 
 1,972 
 
 109 
 
 4 
 
 23,322 
 
 1831, 
 
 251 
 
 1,647 
 
 226 
 
 6,123 
 
 2,395 
 
 63 
 
 18 
 
 22,633 
 
 1832, 
 
 944 
 
 5,120 
 
 158 
 
 11.545 
 
 10,168 
 
 129 
 
 26 
 
 53,179 
 
 1833, 
 
 2,96G 
 
 4,511 
 
 1,921 
 
 4,166 
 
 6,823 
 
 634 
 
 lbs 
 
 58,640 
 
 1834, 
 
 1,129 
 
 6,772 
 
 110 
 
 2G,953 
 
 17,654 
 
 1,389 
 
 32 
 
 65,365 
 
 1835, 
 
 4G8 
 
 5,148 
 
 63 
 
 24,218 
 
 8,245 
 
 548 
 
 66 
 
 45,374 
 
 1836, 
 
 420 
 
 2,152 
 
 106 
 
 41,006 
 
 20,139 
 
 445 
 
 668 
 
 16,2*1 
 
 1837, 
 
 896 
 
 737 
 
 14 
 
 39,079 
 
 23036 
 
 383 
 
 704 
 
 79,3<i0 
 
 1838, 
 
 157 
 
 1,225 
 
 48 
 
 16,G35 
 
 11,369 
 
 123 
 
 314 
 
 38,714 
 
 1839, 
 
 62 
 
 1,199 
 
 
 32,973 
 
 19,794 
 
 607 
 
 1,234 
 
 68,069 
 
 1840, 
 
 318 
 
 677 
 
 21 
 
 41,027 
 
 88,581 
 
 500 
 
 1,123 
 
 84,066 
 
 1841, 
 
 147 
 
 3,291 
 
 35 
 
 50,487 
 
 13,727 
 
 751 
 
 1,564 
 
 80,289 
 
 $19T,744 
 
 This account gives a general idea of the 1 
 operations of the commission. The whole 
 amount disbursed by the commission. May i 
 5, 1847, to Jan. 1, 1860, was $834,786. The I 
 jtroportion who go into hospital appears to 
 be about six per cent, of the arrivals. 
 
 A large majority of those who licrc land 
 have their friends awaiting them to guide 
 them to their future homes. Numbers have 
 to seek their way amid numberless perils. But 
 nearly all these have come provided with in- 
 structions more or less minute, derived from i 
 the numerous agents in Europe of the Ameri- 
 can land companies, who hold out induce- 
 ments to settlers. The Germans are mostly 
 inclined to agriculture, and they soon find 
 their way, by the emigrant trains of the great .i 
 trunk lines of railroads. Those lines liave all i 
 exerted themselves to profit by the movement. ' 
 
 The following table, from official sources, 
 gives the number of Germans and British 
 under each head, and also the aggregate of 
 all the aliens arrived since the returns have 
 been regularly kept. Some of the passengers 
 report themselves from Great Britain, with- 
 out stating which portion. These are under 
 the head "Great Britain." Thus, the total 
 from Great Britain to 1859, is 2,670,059, of 
 which, 1,415.399 arc reported from Great 
 Britain, 289,654 from England, 918,729from 
 Ireland, 46,277 from Scotland. 
 
 IRELAKO, 
 
IRISIIMKV IN THE COMMON' mrSCIL, XEW YORK. 
 
LANDING IN NEW YORK FUTURE HOMES. 
 
 241 
 
 
 England. 
 
 Ireland. 
 
 Scotland. 
 
 Gt. Britain. 
 
 Germany. Switzerlan 
 
 3. Prussia. 
 
 Total. 
 
 1842, 
 
 1,743 
 
 4,844 
 
 24 
 
 66,736 
 
 18.287 
 
 483 
 
 2,083 
 
 104,565 
 
 •1843, 
 
 3,517 
 
 1,173 
 
 41 
 
 23,369 
 
 11,432 
 
 553 
 
 3,009 
 
 52,496 
 
 1844, 
 
 1,357 
 
 5,491 
 
 23 
 
 40,972 
 
 19,226 
 
 839 
 
 1,505 
 
 78,615 
 
 1845, 
 
 1,710 
 
 8,041 
 
 368 
 
 53,312 
 
 33,138 
 
 471 
 
 1,217 
 
 114,371 
 
 1846, 
 
 2,854 
 
 12,949 
 
 305 
 
 57,824 
 
 57,010 
 
 698 
 
 651 
 
 154,416 
 
 1847, 
 
 3,470 
 
 29,640 
 
 337 
 
 95,385 
 
 73,444 
 
 192 
 
 837 
 
 234,968 
 
 1848, 
 
 4,445 
 
 24,802 
 
 659 
 
 118,277 
 
 58,014 
 
 319 
 
 451 
 
 226,527 
 
 1849, 
 
 0,036 
 
 31,321 
 
 1,060 ■ 
 
 175,841 
 
 60,062 
 
 13 
 
 173 
 
 297,024 
 
 1850, 
 
 6,797 
 
 40,180 
 
 860 
 
 167,242 
 
 78,137 
 
 375 
 
 759 
 
 369,980 
 
 1851, 
 
 5,300 
 
 55,874 
 
 966 
 
 210,594 
 
 71,322 
 
 427 
 
 1,160 
 
 379,466 
 
 1852, 
 
 30,007 
 
 159,548 
 
 8,143 
 
 2,544 
 
 143,575 
 
 2,788 
 
 2,343 
 
 371,603 
 
 1853, 
 
 28,867 
 
 102,649 
 
 6,006 
 
 2,703 
 
 140,653 
 
 2,748 
 
 1,293 
 
 368.645 
 
 1854, 
 
 48,901 
 
 101,606 
 
 4,605 
 
 5,141 
 
 206,054 
 
 2,953 
 
 8,955 
 
 427,883 
 
 1855, 
 
 38,871 
 
 49,G27 
 
 5,275 
 
 1,176 
 
 66,219 
 
 4,433 
 
 5,699 
 
 200,877 
 
 1856, 
 
 25,904 
 
 54,349 
 
 3,297 
 
 15,457 
 
 63,807 
 
 1,780 
 
 7.221 
 
 200,436 
 
 1857, 
 
 27,804 
 
 54,361 
 
 4,182 
 
 26,493 
 
 83,798 
 
 2,080 
 
 7,983 
 
 251,306 
 
 1858, 
 
 14,638 
 
 26,873 
 
 1,940 
 
 12,372 
 
 42,291 
 
 1,056 
 
 3,019 
 
 123,126 
 
 1859, 
 
 13,820 
 
 35,216 
 
 2,293 
 
 10,045 
 
 39,315 
 
 833 
 
 2,469 
 
 121,282 
 
 1860, 
 
 13001 
 
 48,637 
 
 1,613 
 
 15,123 
 
 50,746 
 
 913 
 
 3,745 
 
 153,640 
 
 1861, 
 
 8,970 
 
 23,797 
 
 "67 
 
 9,938 
 
 30,189 
 
 1,007 
 
 1,472 
 
 91,920 
 
 1862, 
 
 10,947 
 
 23,351 
 
 657 
 
 13,035 
 
 24,985 
 
 643 
 
 2,544 
 
 91,987 
 
 1863, 
 
 24,065 
 
 55,916 
 
 1,940 
 
 40,878 
 
 31,989 
 
 690 
 
 1,173 
 
 176,282 
 
 1 864, 
 
 26,096 
 
 63.523 
 
 3,476 
 
 23,856 
 
 54,379 
 
 1,896 
 
 2,897 
 
 193,416 
 
 1865, 
 
 15,038 
 
 29,772 
 
 3,037 
 
 64,390 
 
 80,797 
 
 2,859 
 
 2.627 
 
 249,061 
 
 1866, 
 
 2,770 
 
 32312 
 
 672 
 
 95,866 
 
 110,440 
 
 3. 823 
 
 5,452 
 
 318,494 
 
 1867, 
 
 
 69,977 
 
 
 55,543 
 
 121,240 
 
 1.168 
 
 12.186 
 
 298,358 
 
 1868, 
 
 11,107 
 
 42,747 
 
 1,949 
 
 51,779 
 
 1 1 1 ,503 
 
 3 261 
 
 11,567 
 
 297,215 
 
 1869, 
 
 55,046 
 
 51.290 
 
 12,415 
 
 28,965 
 
 124,766 
 
 3,488 
 
 22 
 
 395,922 
 
 1870, 
 
 59,488 
 
 56,628 
 
 1 1 .820 
 
 23,153 
 
 91,168 
 
 2,474 
 
 111 
 
 376.314 
 
 792,846 
 
 2,288,198 
 
 128,900 
 
 3,230,880 
 
 3,723,493 
 
 92,609 
 
 155,191 
 
 7,551,383 
 
 We give tlie following table, compiled 
 from the immigration returns and the c( nsus 
 of 1860, because the ceii.-^us bureau has not 
 yet (Jan. 1872) tabulated its returns of this 
 character for tlie cen.'ius of 1870. It will be 
 understood that the net difference, 'J2o,329, 
 between the arrivals for forty years, and the 
 residents represents those who have died 
 and those who have returned to their native 
 countries. It is evident that there must have 
 been a very considerable number wiio came 
 into the country across tlie lines fiom British 
 America and Mexico without being reported 
 to the Bureau of Emigration, since the dates 
 of emigrants in forty years should alone 
 araoinit to more than two-elevenths of the 
 whole number, and it has been ascertained 
 that in those forty years, full 300,000 return- 
 ed to Europe. We may then witli confidence 
 state the entire immigration into this coun- 
 try from 18-20 to the close of 187<i, as not 
 ii., II 8,000,(100. The deficiency colimin 
 !'• tab!e below, is |)artly due to the im- 
 jieriuction of the census returns, and partly 
 to the unwillingness of m:iny emigrants to 
 d ou their first arrival their native 
 III V. It is noticeable that about one 
 li of the whole number of arrivals re- 
 , ited in the table, were from Great Britain 
 and Ireland. 
 
 15* 
 
 ST.KTEM'^NT OF THE NUMBER OF ALIENS ARRIVET) IN THE tTNITED 
 FROM 1820 TO IStiO, BOTH INCLUSIVE, AND THE NDMBER OF 
 EACH NATION RESIDENT IN THE UNION BV THE CENSUS OF 1860. 
 
 Countries, 
 
 England 3n2,r>&'-, 
 
 Ireland 967,.366 
 
 Sroland 47,990 
 
 Wales 7,935 
 
 Ut. Britain & Ireland- .1,426,018 
 
 ISL'O Res't ,lfi60, Excess o/ Dcfcifncy 
 In IKfiO. Ceitstis. ISItO. ai-rivatg, of arrirala. 
 
 Total. 
 
 France. 
 
 I*ortugaI 
 
 lU'lgium 
 
 Prussia 
 
 (iermany 1 
 
 Holland 
 
 Penmark 
 
 Norw.ay and Sweden 
 
 I'oland 
 
 Russia 
 
 Turkey 
 
 Switzerland '. 
 
 Italy 
 
 Greece 
 
 .Sardinia 
 
 Kurope 
 
 British America . . . 
 
 South America 
 
 Central .\merica. . . , 
 
 ,760,874 
 208.0113 
 16,248 
 2,614 
 9,862 
 60.4.32 
 ,4815,044 
 21,.i79 
 6,.'')40 
 36.129 
 1,659 
 1,.374 
 170 
 37,733 
 11,202 
 116 
 2,030 
 
 AVest Indies 
 
 Chiua 
 
 .\sia 
 
 Africa 
 
 Azores 
 
 Canary Islands 
 
 Sandwich Islands 
 
 Australia 
 
 South Sea Islands 
 
 18 nations not specified, 
 Not stated 
 
 117,142 
 0,201 
 
 17, TOG 
 4 ,4S7 
 41,4,3 
 
 289 
 
 3,C42 
 
 2S1 
 
 79 
 
 109 
 
 79 
 
 1,266 
 
 180,854 
 
 l,fill,304 
 
 
 
 108,518 
 
 
 
 45,703 
 
 
 
 1,802 
 
 
 
 2.199,079 
 109,870 
 
 561,795 
 
 
 98,193 
 
 
 4,244 
 
 12,004 
 
 
 4,116 
 
 
 1,.502 
 
 9,072 
 
 790 
 
 
 227,661 
 
 
 167,229 
 
 1,074,475 
 
 411,669 
 
 
 28,281 
 
 
 6,702 
 
 9 962 
 
 
 4,452 
 
 62,620 
 
 
 26,491 
 
 7,298 
 
 
 6,689 
 
 3,160 
 
 
 1,786 
 
 128 
 
 42 
 
 
 B3 sn 
 
 
 16,f94 
 
 10,.'il8 
 
 684 
 
 
 3-28 
 
 
 2i2 
 
 1,1-59 
 
 1,659 
 
 
 1.403 
 
 
 877 
 
 249.970 
 
 
 132,828 
 
 S.2'-3 
 
 2.938 
 
 
 223 
 
 735 
 
 
 27 466 
 
 
 9,700 
 
 7.363 
 
 33.1.34 
 
 
 as.-iia 
 
 5,878 
 
 
 1,2-31 
 
 
 l.o.->2 
 
 626 
 
 
 1S4 
 
 "i'3li 
 
 2,610 
 
 
 4a5 
 
 
 .'19 
 
 1,419 
 
 
 1,310 
 
 286 
 
 
 203 
 
 1,.366 
 
 179 488 
 
 
 Total aliens 6,062,414 
 
 Excess of arrivals 
 
 4,136,175 1,301,419 376,090 
 926,329 
 
242 
 
 IMMinRATION. 
 
 Let us next see where these emigrants 
 make their homes on this side the ocean. 
 Here again we must take the census of ISGO 
 for the details, sis the Census Bureau is not 
 likely to furnish those of 1870 for a year 
 or two to come. Tlie larger part of the Irish 
 it will be seen, settled in tiie New England 
 and Middle States, over ], 100,000 of the 
 
 1,600,000 remaining in these States. Of the 
 Germans a large proportion migrated west- 
 ward and have establishei] themselves in the 
 Mississippi and Missouri valleys, and con- 
 siderable numbers have gone to the Pacific 
 coast. The Scandinavians have settled Isiri;!-. 
 ly in the northwest. The "total" column 
 includes emigrants of all nationalities: — 
 
 states and Territorie.f. Englnnd. 
 
 Alabama 1 , 1 74 
 
 Arkansas 375 
 
 California 12,227 
 
 Connecticut 8,875 
 
 Delaware 1,581 
 
 riorlda .^20 
 
 Geor<iia 1,122 
 
 Illinois 41,745 
 
 Indiana 9,3U4 
 
 Iowa 11 ,522 
 
 Kansas 1,400 
 
 Kentucky 4,503 
 
 Louisiana 3,989 
 
 Maine 2 677 
 
 Maryland 4,235 
 
 Ma.ssachnsetts 23,848 
 
 Michigan 25,743 
 
 Minnesota 3,462 
 
 Mississippi 844 
 
 Missouri 10,009 
 
 New Hampshire 2,291 
 
 New Jer-sey 1 5,852 
 
 New York 106,01 1 
 
 'North Carolina 729 
 
 Ohio 32,700 
 
 Oregon 690 
 
 Pennsylvania 46,546 
 
 Rhode Island 6,:i56 
 
 South Carolina 757 
 
 Tennessee 2,001 
 
 Texas 1 ,695 
 
 Vemiont 1 ,632 
 
 Virginia 4,104 
 
 Wisconsin 30,543 
 
 Colorado Territory 352 
 
 Dakota Territory 35 
 
 District of Columbia 1 ,0.30 
 
 Nebraska Territory 1 ,47 1 
 
 Nevada Territm-y 294 
 
 New Mexico Territory. . , , 145 
 
 Utah Territory 7,084 
 
 Washini;ton Territory.... 419 
 
 Total 431,692 
 
 
 Great Britain 
 
 
 
 Sweden & 
 
 Totll 
 
 Ireland. 
 
 not speci 
 
 Sed. Germany. 
 
 Prus.sia. 
 
 Switzerland- Norway. 
 
 Foreign. 
 
 5,664 
 
 5 
 
 2,209 
 
 392 
 
 138 
 
 206 
 
 12,352 
 
 1,312 
 
 8 
 
 989 
 
 1.54 
 
 42 
 
 30 
 
 3,741 
 
 33,147 
 
 103 
 
 17,002 
 
 4,644 
 
 1,714 
 
 2,120 
 
 146,528 
 
 55,445 
 
 50 
 
 7,311 
 
 1,214 
 
 275 
 
 64 
 
 80.C9I) 
 
 5,832 
 
 .... 
 
 997 
 
 266 
 
 34 
 
 8 
 
 9,16.5 
 
 827 
 
 3 
 
 404 
 
 74 
 
 13 
 
 42 
 
 3,309 
 
 6 586 
 
 • • . . 
 
 2,017 
 
 455 
 
 62 
 
 50 
 
 11,671 
 
 87,573 
 
 669 
 
 106,257 
 
 24.. 54 7 
 
 5,748 
 
 11,361 
 
 324 64.! 
 
 24,495 
 
 21 
 
 54,638 
 
 12007 
 
 3,813 
 
 367 
 
 118,184 
 
 28,072 
 
 23 
 
 30,758 
 
 7,797 
 
 2,519 
 
 7,153 
 
 106.0s; 
 
 3,888 
 
 7 
 
 3,788 
 
 5.30 
 
 260 
 
 345 
 
 12,691 
 
 22,2J9 
 
 2 
 
 24,263 
 
 2,964 
 
 7.53 
 
 53 
 
 59.799 
 
 28,207 
 
 1 
 
 21,875 
 
 2,7.-;9 
 
 878 
 
 2.-.6 
 
 81,029 
 
 15,290 
 
 37 
 
 307 
 
 77 
 
 13 
 
 101 
 
 37,45.3 
 
 24,872 
 
 .... 
 
 41,057 
 
 2,827 
 
 177 
 
 55 
 
 77,.536 
 
 185,434 
 
 294 
 
 8,479 
 
 1 ,482 
 
 .335 
 
 856 
 
 260,114 
 
 30,049 
 
 11 
 
 29,152 
 
 9,635 
 
 1,269 
 
 706 
 
 149,092 
 
 12,831 
 
 4 
 
 12,423 
 
 5,977 
 
 1,085 
 
 11,603 
 
 58,7i8 
 
 3,893 
 
 1 
 
 1,691 
 
 317 
 
 138 
 
 36 
 
 8,5.'i8 
 
 43,464 
 
 114 
 
 64,795 
 
 23,692 
 
 4,585 
 
 385 
 
 160,541 
 
 12,737 
 
 2 
 
 322 
 
 90 
 
 12 
 
 25 
 
 20,9.18 
 
 62.006 
 
 1 
 
 .30,881 
 
 2,891 
 
 1,144 
 
 1,53 
 
 122,790 
 
 498,072 
 
 131 
 
 227,226 
 
 29,036 
 
 6,166 
 
 2,217 
 
 998,640 
 
 889 
 
 .... 
 
 696 
 
 69 
 
 10 
 
 13 
 
 ,3,299 
 
 76,826 
 
 148 
 
 151,093 
 
 17,117 
 
 11,078 
 
 136 
 
 328,2.')4 
 
 1,266 
 
 5 
 
 856 
 
 222 
 
 71 
 
 99 
 
 5,122 
 
 201,939 
 
 14 
 
 123,801 
 
 14,443 
 
 4,404 
 
 533 
 
 430,505 
 
 25,285 
 
 • • . . 
 
 728 
 
 87 
 
 37 
 
 71 
 
 37, .394 
 
 4,906 
 
 1 
 
 2,595 
 
 352 
 
 33 
 
 42 
 
 9,986 
 
 12,498 
 
 3 
 
 3,515 
 
 354 
 
 566 
 
 46 
 
 21,226 
 
 3,480 
 
 27 
 
 14,318 
 
 6,235 
 
 453 
 
 479 
 
 43,422 
 
 13,480 
 
 42 
 
 205 
 
 14 
 
 4 
 
 1 
 
 32,743 
 
 16,501 
 
 32 
 
 9,561 
 
 564 
 
 267 
 
 65 
 
 35,058 
 
 49,961 
 
 24 
 
 70,896 
 
 52,983 
 
 4,722 
 
 22,115 
 
 276,927 
 
 624 
 
 1 
 
 522 
 
 54 
 
 25 
 
 39 
 
 2,666 
 
 42 
 
 
 22 
 
 
 1 
 
 129 
 
 1,774 
 
 7,258 
 
 .... 
 
 3,025 
 
 229 
 
 97 
 
 17 
 
 12,484 
 
 1,431 
 
 2 
 
 1,.346 
 
 396 
 
 228 
 
 173 
 
 6,3.')l 
 
 651 
 
 • • * . 
 
 388 
 
 66 
 
 19 
 
 57 
 
 2,064 
 
 827 
 
 1 
 
 445 
 
 124 
 
 27 
 
 5 
 
 6,723 
 
 278 
 
 5 
 
 139 
 
 19 
 
 78 
 
 355 
 
 12,754 
 
 1,217 
 
 10 
 
 483 
 
 89 
 
 34 
 
 55 
 
 3,144 
 
 1,611,304 1,802 1,073,475 227,661 53,327 62,620 4,136,175 
 
 The census of 1870 makes the whole num- 
 ber of persons of foreign birth in the United 
 States in June, 1870, 5,.'566,.'J46, being an 
 increase of 1,427,849, in the ten years, while 
 the actual immigration of that ten years was 
 about 2,350,000. 
 
 The statement of the number of persons 
 of foreign birth in the dirtereut states and 
 territories in 1870, reveals some interesting 
 facts. Of the territories Idaho has the larg- 
 
 est population of foreigners, over one-half, 
 while Montana and Utah have each about 
 two-fifths ; of the states, Nevada has three- 
 sevenths, Minnesota four-elevenths. Califor- 
 nia five-fourteenths, Wisconsin a little mors 
 than a third, and New York about three- 
 elevenths. Several other states range be- 
 tween one-fourth and one-fifth foreignsR. 
 The Southern states, though increasing 'heir 
 foreign population, have not a large sbare. 
 
LANDING IN NEW YORK — FUTURE HOMES. 
 
 2^3 
 
 The amount ®f money or capital drawn 
 rora Euro|)e by the emigrants is a question 
 )i' much importance. Tlie cost of prepara- 
 ion for the voyage in Europe, the cot of 
 lie passage, and tiie expenses incurred atler 
 irriving until the new home is finally reach- 
 Id, cannot, together, fall short of one hundred 
 iollars each ; and many have a small capital 
 1 addition, with whicii to begin the world, 
 'he sums transported are often much larger. 
 n 1854 the migration from the Palatinate, 
 s stated in a IJremen report, was 8,908, and 
 ley carried $1,02-1:.00(). The reports of the 
 Jew York commissioners of emigration as 
 le result of their investigation, show that the 
 verage of money brought is very near one 
 undied dollars per head — an amount which 
 ecome-i formidable when taken in connec- 
 on vi'ith the aggregate numbers arriving, 
 'his is exhibited ia the following summary 
 f arrivals : — 
 
 Whole Number Sums at 
 
 No. of of SlOO 
 
 Arriyala. Aliens. per he:id, 
 
 m years to Sept. 30, 1829, 151,1533 ]2.S,o02 1^,S.J0,2IX) 
 
 ^ ' " 1S3.I, 572,710 ,')33,3S1 53,S3-i,100 
 
 ' " ISW 1.479,478 1,427,337 142,733,71X1 
 
 ' Dee. 31, 1859; 3,1)7.5,900 2,614,.=>54 231,455.400 
 
 lovcn y'rs to Dec. 31, 1870, 2,856,341 2,451,701 245,170,100 
 
 Total. 
 
 , 3,130,071 7,360,475 733,047,500 
 
 This is an immense sum, anil poured forth 
 I'en in small streams, has had an important 
 feet upon tlie prosperity of the country at 
 ,rge, independent of the larger sums invested 
 I land, stock, and utensils. On the otlier 
 and, very considerable sums are sent out of 
 le country in aid of the emigrants, by their 
 ■lends here, who liave earned the money at 
 jrvice and olherwise. Qn this point, iii- 
 irmation has from time to time been gath- 
 ■ed, ol the houses through which remittances 
 [■e made. These remittances are mostly 
 jnall drafts, purcha-ed in New York, for 
 jims varying from five to one hundred dol- 
 irs. The latter sum is sehloin reached, 
 owever. The remittances of five of these 
 puses, in one year, were as follows : — 
 
 ouse A, number of drafts, 1,934 
 
 • B, " " 6,193 
 
 C, ' " 13,425 
 
 D, " " 13,175 
 
 E, " " 40,542 
 
 Arerage 
 amount. 
 
 $.32,125 S16 5-8 
 123,291) 19 7-8 
 
 286,395 19 7-8 
 
 363,140 19 9-10 
 
 810,835 20 
 
 Total 5 houses 1 year, 80,274 $1,595,785 
 
 These do not include the large banking- 
 'ouses, of which there are no returns, but it 
 i said the Baring Brothers alone send 
 
 $2,500,000. The British emigrant commis- 
 sioners reported in thirteen years endino- 
 witli 1860, «f5G,I91,733 sent to the United 
 Kingdom .alone, and this increasing amount 
 continued till 1857. 
 
 With the renewal, on a large scale, of em- 
 igration after the war, the amounts sent 
 largely increased, and amounted to more 
 than S20,0!K:),000 per annum. This is not 
 now returned to this country as passage 
 money, for nearly all the emigrant ships are 
 owned in Great Britain or in Germany. 
 The United States gold coin exported to 
 England and Germany is bought up to some 
 extent by emigrants, but not as much as for- 
 merly. The aggregate amount of money 
 brought here by immigrants in the fifty-one 
 years ending Dec. 31, 1870, was, as we have 
 seen, S736,000,000. Deducting at least 
 $230,000,000 for remittances made from 
 this side to the families of emigi-ants, there 
 still remains the large sum of $500,000,000 
 brought here by immigrants, besides their 
 productive labor after their arrival. 
 
 The legal rights of the emigrants, after 
 they become naturalized, are the same in 
 all respects as tiiose of the native born citi- 
 zens, with the single exception that they are 
 not eligible to the office of president or 
 vice-president of the United States. No 
 law can be passed to abridge the freedom of 
 their speech, or the free exercise of their re- 
 ligion, whatever they may be — even the en- 
 joyment of Mormonism has been an attrac- 
 tion to some. Tiieir right to liold real es- 
 tate is perfect, as is the security afforded to 
 persons, property, and papers, and they may 
 be elected, or may elect to any office except 
 those named. 
 
 Another very interesting feature of the 
 passenger movement, although not strictly 
 embraced within the emigration, is the num- 
 ber of United States citizens who annually 
 arrive from abroad. It is not until within 
 a few years that a record has been kept of 
 the number of citizens who go abroad each 
 year, but the arrivals of passengers, not im- 
 migrants, is an interesting item. 
 
 NUJIBEn OF NATIVE CITIZENS AND FOREIGN VIS- 
 ITORS (not im.migkants) arriving 
 
 FROM ABROAD. 
 
 Males. 
 
 1820-1830, 19,542 
 
 1830-1840, 2.).036 
 
 1840-1850, 38,952 
 
 1850-1860, 224,410 
 
 1869-1871, 99,373 
 
 Females. Not stated. Total. 
 
 3,529 62 «3,134 
 
 7,288 31 34,345 
 
 12,999 190 52.141 
 
 36,924 ... 261,348 
 
 52,030 ... 151,403 
 
244 
 
 IMMIGRATION. 
 
 The number of departures for Europe is, 
 Iiowever, much greater than tlie arrivals of 
 passensers not emigrants. For the year 
 ending June 30, 187(i, it w.is : Males, 60,50.5, 
 Females, 21,408, Total, 8 1,9 13. This was 
 about an average year — the departures in 
 
 1869 being somewhat fewer, and those of 
 1871 considerably larger. It would be a 
 very moderate estimate of the amount ex- 
 pended or carried with these outgoing pas- 
 sengers to fix it at $1,"200 per head, and yet 
 this would give $98,295,600 as the amount 
 of money taken out of the country in a sin- 
 gle year by European voyagers. 
 
 The numbers of former emigrants who 
 returned home with accumulated means, ad- 
 ded to the sum-! expended abroad by Amer- 
 icans, will probably at least cancel the 
 amounts actually brought into the country 
 by emigrants. But the vast amount of pro- 
 ductive skill and labor that is brought into 
 the country, .and applied to the vast waste of 
 land, develops more capital in a ratio which 
 astonishes the observer. The number of 
 persons who arrive in the United States in a 
 single year, equals the population of a whole 
 state. Thus the number that arrived in 
 
 1870 were 436,496 : the total white popula- 
 tion of the state of Minnesota was, in 1870, 
 
 439,706, and there were nine states which 
 contained a smaller number of population. 
 From 1859, the tide of immigration, which 
 for two or three years previous had ebbed, 
 began to flow again in something like its old 
 abundance, and, though checked in 1861 and 
 1862 by the war and the presence of rebel 
 privateers in the Atlantic, it soon increased 
 again, and from 1863 to 1871 has been very 
 large. In 1860, the whole number of alien 
 emigr.ants was 153,640. In 1861, it was 
 only 91,920; in 1862, 91,987; in 1863, 
 176,282; in 1864, 193,416; in 1865, 249,- 
 061; in 1866, 318,494; in 1867, 298,358; 
 in 1868, 297.215; in 1869, 395,922; in 
 1870, 436,496; in 1871, 386,271. It is a 
 noteworthy fact that the later immigrants, 
 those of the last six or seven years, are, 
 socially and 4)ecuniarily, of a much higher 
 class than those of former years. A very 
 large iirojjortion of them are well, or at least 
 tolerably educated, and many of them pos- 
 sess sutncient means to enable them to go 
 to the West and procure farms, or engage 
 in other employments. Of the immigrants 
 in 1871, 82,554 werefi'om Germ.any, 57,439 
 from Ireland, 56,530 from England, 28,925 
 from Great Britain, not specified, and 160,823 
 from other countries. 
 
SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 Three quarters of a century ago, there 
 were in the whole United States only about 
 as many people as there are now in the state 
 of Now York ; and now we have grown from 
 less than four millions to thirty millions — 
 having increased nearly eight-fold. 
 
 Those large numbers will indistinctly rep- 
 resent the general progress of the nation ; 
 and the average social prosperity of each 
 citizen has increased in a ratio materially 
 larger. The actual amount of this increase 
 in intelligence, wealth, and comfort, cannot 
 be set down in figures, but will be under- 
 stood as well as the case will permit, from 
 an enumeration of details of improvements 
 in social and domestic life. 
 
 There were sufiicient reasons for a some- 
 what uncommonly low average of comfort 
 at the end of the Revolution. The seven 
 years* war had, of course, almost destroyed 
 all industry, except farming and a few indis- 
 pensable manufactures and trades. It had 
 also drained all the specie out of the country, 
 or frightened it into secret hoards ; in con- 
 sequence of which the currency was entirely 
 disorganized. Government credit was at 
 such a low ebb, that the bills of the Unit- 
 ed States (known as " continental money") 
 would not purchase even such articles of 
 comfort or luxury as existed, except at enor- 
 mous nominal rates ; nor was the paper 
 money of the separate states in much bettor 
 reputation. Thus, a hundreil dollars in these 
 depreciated bills was paid for a nmg of ci- 
 der; five hundred dollars for a bowl of 
 punch ; a thousand dollars for a pair of 
 shoes ; twenty-seven thousand dollars for an 
 ordin.iry horse ; and " part of an old shirt" 
 was set in an inventory at fifteen dollars. 
 The worthlessness of this money rendered 
 it necessary to niake payments, to a great 
 extent, in barter — a mode of trading which 
 always keeps the average of comfort and 
 luxury down at a standard little above that 
 of the better class of savages. 
 
 But even if this paper currency had been 
 worth its face, or if specie had been plenty, 
 it would have been possible to buy only a 
 small share of comforts or luxuries compared 
 with those now attainable, for the plain rea- 
 son that they did not exist. 
 
 Beginning at this low period of average 
 prosperity, we shall now rapidly sketch the 
 progress of the country, up to the present 
 time, under the general heads of 
 
 1. Domestic Architecture. 
 
 2. Furniture. 
 
 3. Food. 
 
 4. Dress. 
 
 5. Mental culture, intercourse, etc. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 Eighty years ago, houses were much more 
 evenly distributed over the country than is 
 now the case. There has ever since been a 
 continual tendency to draw together into 
 towns ; and this tendency has been much 
 assisted by the increased ease of travelling 
 and transportation. At that time, therefore, 
 there was much less difference between a 
 country house and a city house than at 
 present. 
 
 In the older parts of the northern states, 
 the houses then built were often of the .style 
 called "lean-to," or "linter;" that is, with 
 one side of the roof carried down so far as 
 to cover an additional tier of rooms on the 
 ground floor, or a wide shed. Another com- 
 mon style, rather later in use, was the "gam- 
 bril roofed," where the roof rose at a very 
 steep pitch from the eaves, about half the 
 length of the rafters, and then fell in to the 
 ridge-pole at a much flatter angle. This 
 gave a very roomy garret. Dormer win- 
 dows were very common, to light rooms fin- 
 ished ofl" in the garrets. 
 
 Timber was plenty, and houses were built 
 
246 
 
 SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 almost exclusively of wood, and often with 
 beams and rafters of dimensions that would 
 now seem truly enormous. Brick was com- 
 paratively little used, until lumber grew 
 scarcer in the older parts of the country, 
 and "brick machines," first invented by 
 Kinsley a little before 1 800, had rendered 
 the production of brick more rapid and 
 cheaper than could be afforded by hand la- 
 bor. Stone was scarcely used at all, except 
 by a very few wealthy persons. Sometimes 
 the spaces between the timbers of a frame 
 house were filled in with brick, so as to 
 make a sort of brick body to the house, with 
 wooden bones, and with the clapboards put 
 on over these. 
 
 A beam was very often left running across 
 the ceiling of a room, six or eight inches be- 
 low the plaster, and was a convenient place 
 for driving nails or pegs on which to hang 
 dried apples, seed-corn, peppers, hams, bas- 
 kets, rope, etc., etc. In like manner the 
 uprights often projected into the corner of 
 the room, giving it a kind of coarse cornice. 
 The centre of the house was usually occu- 
 pied by the chimney stack — an immense 
 pile of brick or stone, sometimes occupying 
 almost a quarter of the ground plan. In the 
 different sides of this huge mass opened the 
 great old-fashioned fire-places, in many of 
 which one could sit in the corner while the 
 fire burned, and see the sky through the 
 chimney-top. Half a cord of wood might 
 burn at once in some of these great fire- 
 places, and yet, in the bitter cold of a north- 
 ern winter, water would freeze at the other 
 side of the room. This was by reason of 
 the thinness of the walls, the imperfect fit- 
 ting of doors and windows, and above all, 
 the great proportion of heat that went otf 
 up chimney, and of cold that came down. 
 Hinged to staples at the chimney-back was 
 a crane, witii its pot-hooks and hangers, or 
 trammels, to accommodate the machinery 
 of the cook. At one side of the fire-place 
 was the oven — a cave in the masonry of the 
 chimney-stack — and, usually, with an ash- 
 hole underneath it. A great shovel, or 
 "slice," with a handle five or six feet long, 
 and a big pair of tongs to match, were for 
 oven use ; and to heat this affair thoroughly 
 enough to bake bread, usually occupied an 
 hour or an hour and a half, and consumed 
 two or three good armfuls of dry wood. 
 
 Houses were commonly low " between 
 joints," to economize heat. Roofs were 
 shingled, with split shingles ; the sawed 
 
 shingles being little used until a little after 
 18(10, from which time many patents for 
 shingle sawing were taken out. A machine 
 for getting out shingles was patented, how- 
 ever, as early as 1797. Slate roofs were not 
 much used, and tiles scarcely at all. Cy- 
 press wood is H.-ed for shingles at the south, 
 instead of pine ; exposure to the weather 
 turns it to a distinct, but disaL'reeable Mack. 
 Sheet tin has been extensively used for roof- 
 ing, but very often leaks badly from tiie 
 rusting, expansion, and contraction of the 
 tin. Since 1840, oiled or tarred canvas^ 
 asphalt, asbestos, mineral paint, tarred felt 
 or paper, heavily coateil wiih gravel, etc., 
 have been used in place of shingles, or tin, 
 and some of them with good success. Since 
 the introduction of the Mansard or French 
 roofs, ^late is more used, and recently enam- 
 eled sheet iron, imitating slate, has become 
 quite common. 
 
 A modern invention in domestic anliifec- 
 ture is the plan of building what are called 
 " gravel walls," by moulding gravel and 
 loose stone with mortar, into a kind of con- 
 crete wall on the spot, lifting up the mould- 
 ing eases v~hen the contents are firmly set, 
 and moulding another section. This results 
 in a house which may be said to be of one 
 stone, for if the materials are good, and 
 well ]iut together, they harden into an arti- 
 ficial breccia. This ])lan has not, however, 
 been sufficiently proved ; and a wrong choice 
 of sand, gravel, or lime lias often caused 
 the crumbling and ruin of the whole fabric. 
 
 Walls were usually finished inside with 
 whitewash, paper, or paint ; thi; use of stucco, 
 or "hard finish," being rare until within the 
 past thirty years. All house iron-work and 
 trimmings of a better kind were imported 
 from England, until within the present cen- 
 tury. Wrought nails were u-ed.; cut nails 
 having been invented, and their manufacture 
 variously perfected by several Americans, 
 from about 1791, when the earliest jtatent 
 on the subject was issued, down to the pres- 
 ent time. Jacob Perkins, of Newburyport, 
 and Byington, of Connecticut, were two of 
 the most prominent inventors in this line. 
 Such latches, hinges, etc., as were then 
 made in this country, were wrought iron, 
 and clumsy and inconvenient. All these 
 trimmings are, bowever, now manufactured 
 to great perfection in our ow-n workshops. 
 Among the improvements of the last forty 
 years in house trimmings, a convenient one 
 is the introduction of weights running over 
 
DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 247 
 
 allies, to facilitate opening and shutting 
 nndows. Before these were used, the prac- 
 ice was to use various kinds of catches, ail 
 if which made it necessary to lift the whole 
 ifeight of the sash ; and instead of which 
 fere often found merely a wooden button 
 turn under, and hold the sash open, or 
 ven nothing but a stick to hold it up. 
 
 Tlie invention of the planing machine, 
 irst successfully introduced by William 
 iVoodworth in 1837, though many patents 
 lad preceded his, and of the circular saw, 
 irst patented by Cox, of Georgia, in 1795, 
 vere important improvements in dressing 
 umber, and cutting it ; as the former could 
 urn out boards smoothed, tongued and 
 rrooved, and fit for flooring, and the latter 
 bould cut thin work much more cheaply 
 than a common saw movement. Another 
 pachine has been introduced since the year 
 1840, for boring auger holes, and others 
 "or cutting wooden mouldings, which save 
 ueh time and labor in liainiug and in 
 nishing respectively. During the last 
 .wenty-five yeais, also, various new paints 
 lave been introduced, none of which, how- 
 jever, have entirely superseded the old-fash- 
 ioned oil vehicle and ordinary mineral 
 colors. Of these, the principal are prepara- 
 tions of zinc, to be used instead of lead, and 
 also for a variety of browns and grays ; and 
 several "mineral paints," usually finely 
 pulverized stone, which are recommended as 
 good defences against fire. 
 
 The improvement of the last twenty years 
 in architectural designs has been great. Up 
 to that time, dwelling houses were built in 
 the north most frequently on a plain paral- 
 lelogram plan with the common ridge-pole 
 roof. A style at that time quite frequently 
 adopted for houses of a somewhat preten- 
 tious character was that of a Greek temple, 
 usually with a row of pillars across one end. 
 This absurd misapplication did not flourish 
 long, and was succeeded by the Gothic 
 cottage style ; and this again, and with ex- 
 tensive and well deserved success, by the 
 various modifications of the Italian villa style. 
 In cities where land is very expensive, two 
 styles largely prevail ; the English basement 
 house in which the ground floor is occupied 
 by a library or reception room, and a dining 
 room ; the kitchen, storeroom, and cellar, be- 
 ing in the basement, and the parlors and bed 
 rooms on tlie second and ihird floors ; and the 
 " high stoop basement," almost wholly above 
 ground, containing the dining room, kitchen, 
 
 &c., with cellar beneath. The first floor is 
 occui)ied with the parlors and lioudoir, and 
 the bedrooms are above. The latter is 
 the better of the two, but both require as- 
 cending at:d descending too many flights of 
 stairs, unless Bridget is allowed to reign 
 supreme in all parts of the house. Vesti- 
 bules or recessed entrances are almost uni- 
 versal in these houses. 
 
 A very common arrangement of old-fash- 
 ioned houses was to set the house with the 
 side toward the street, with the front door 
 in the middle, opening into a little vestibule. 
 From this tlie stairs passed up, often turning 
 round three sides of the vestibule ; and at 
 each side a door led to two front rooms. 
 These, often occupying all the ground floor 
 of the two-story part, were parlors, or a par- 
 lor and a bed-room. Behind these, under 
 the " lean-to" roof, was very probably one 
 long room, used as kitchen, nursery, and 
 sitting-room ; for the parlor was used only 
 for great occasions. The second floor was 
 laid ott" as might be convenient. 
 
 The l)etter houses of the southern states 
 were Imilt to suit the dififerent demands of 
 the climate — more airily, and usually with 
 much piazza room, and not much provision 
 for warmth. Early settlers in the south and 
 west invariably put up log houses, whose 
 chimneys were built outside against one end, 
 of sticks laid in clay. A mode often used 
 was to build two separate square rooms of 
 logs, and then to throw one roof over both 
 and the space between, thus securing an out- 
 door shelter. These log houses were floored 
 with " puncheons," that is, small logs split 
 once and hewed even. A standing table of 
 puncheons, some three-legged stools, a rude 
 bedstead, with a bed o*" leaves or corn- 
 husks covered with buft'alodiide or bear-skins 
 instead of sheet, blanket, and coverlet ; a 
 shelf, and a variety of pegs driven into the 
 wall, completed almost the entire outside 
 and inside of these rugged, but comfort- 
 able liomes, the nurseries of so many brave 
 and great men. In such houses were born 
 and brought up Andrew Jackson, Henry 
 Clay, and the numberless heroic Indian 
 fighters and mighty hunters of the west. 
 And such houses are still the liomes of 
 thousands of the bold pioneers who are ad- 
 vancing westward, carrying forward the 
 limits of civilized society toward the Pacific 
 ocean. As the newer states increase in 
 population and wealth, the domestic architec- 
 ture of the older ones is copied, and dwell- 
 
248 
 
 SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 ing houses of the same general character are 
 now commonly used in city and country. 
 
 Among the chief improvements in domes- 
 tic architecture are those which have been 
 applied to modes of warming houses. The 
 earliest improvement on the ancient fire- 
 place was the Franklin stove, invented by 
 the great philosopher whose name it bears, 
 and which was in use before the revolution- 
 ary war. These were only shallow iron fire- 
 places, with a draft which could be modified 
 by a sort of valve, and were used only for 
 wood. Large box-stoves, also for wood, 
 ■were the first means used for warming 
 churches. Even these were not introduced 
 until within the memory of many persons 
 now living, and, as is well known, were vio- 
 lently resisted by the conservatives, who 
 fought hard to retain the privilege of morti- 
 fying the flesh by freezing fingers and toes 
 all day Sunday. 
 
 The introduction of anthracite coal was 
 the next step in this department. This had 
 been known for years to the hunters and 
 trappers of the wild interior of Pennsylva- 
 nia, as a black stone sometimes found on the 
 mountains, but was not thought combustible, 
 any more than granite. 
 
 Some successful attempts had, however, 
 been made to burn anthracite ; one by Dr. 
 C. T. James, in 1804 ; and one by Judge 
 Jesse Fell, of WilkesbatTc, who burned it in 
 a grate, in 1808. This brought it gradually 
 into use in that vicinity. In" 1814, White 
 & Hazard, iron-masters in Carbon county, 
 bituminous coal becoming scarce, resolved 
 to try anthracite in their rolling mill. They 
 got a cart-load, at a dollar a bushel, and 
 wasted it all in vain endeavors to kindle it. 
 Procuring another load, they tried again ; 
 but after fruitless endeavors for a whole 
 night, the hands shut the furnace door in 
 despair and left the mill. Half an hour 
 afterward, one of them came back after his 
 jacket, and to his surprise found the fur- 
 nace door red-hot, and the inside at a strong 
 white heat. The discovery was made ; and 
 with the use of a similar let-alone policy in 
 kindling, anthracite was afterward used in 
 furnaces with entire success, an improve- 
 ment in quality of product, and a large 
 saving of expense. 
 
 Thus introduced, the use of the new fuel 
 gradually spread, although so slowly that in 
 1820, three hundred and sixty-five tons com- 
 pletely stocked the Philadelphia market 
 for a year. Many patents were now taken 
 
 out for grates, blowers, cooking-stoves, par- 
 lor and hall stoves, ranges, and hot-air fur- 
 naces. R. Trexler, of Berks county, manu- 
 fiictured stoves for anthracite in 1815 ; and 
 the earliest patent for furnaces seems to have 
 been that of Thomas Gregg, of Connells- 
 ville. Pa., in 1814. Three or four years 
 now brought the new fuel into extensive 
 use, and from the three hundred and sixty- 
 five tons, which was all that was mined in 
 1820, the amount had risen in 1849, in 
 thirty years, to 3,2."jO,000 tons, and to 12,- 
 211,313 tons in 1870, together with nearly 
 an equal quantity of bituminous coal. 
 
 Nott's stoves were early much used for 
 warming houses with anthracite ; Olmsted's 
 stove and Bushnell's were in fashion next; 
 the first invented by a college president, the 
 second by a college professor, and the third 
 by an eminent clergyman. These have 
 been superseded by the base-burning stoves 
 and furnaces, of which there is a variety. 
 About the year 183G, Isaac Orr, a man of 
 jjreat inventive talent, patented the air-tight 
 stove for wood, which was for a time so 
 extensively used as to cause a sort of inte^ 
 regnum in the reign of anthracite, and 
 which is yet frequently seen. Grates, long 
 used in England to burn the bituminous 
 coal there, were early adapted to anthracite, 
 and their cheerful open appearance has kept 
 them to some extent in vogue. Hot-air 
 furnaces were also invented, as early, at 
 least, as 1813; but various faults, from the 
 too great fierceness and dryness of the heat, 
 imperfect defence against fire, etc., rendered 
 them on the whole quite unsatisfactory, un- 
 til about 1840, when great improvements 
 began to be made ; and many of the fur- 
 naces now employed aft'ord a bountiful sup- 
 ply of air, almost fresh from out-doors, and 
 not too warm and dry for health. 
 
 Apparatuses have also been devised for 
 heating buildings by systems of hot-water 
 pipes, and by systems of steam pipes ; of 
 which the latter, especially in manufacturing 
 establishments, offices, public rooms, etc., 
 succeed very well, though the heat would 
 sometimes be somewhat too slowly difi'used 
 for private residences. 
 
 Until within twenty years, scarcely any 
 care had been given to the ventilation of any 
 buildings, whether public or private. At 
 earlier periods, an abundant circulation of 
 air was secured by the open chimney, 
 through which a strong current of warm air 
 continually rushed up, taking, as has been 
 
MOrJERX STYLES OF FURXITDEE. 
 
FURNITURE FURNISHING GOODS, ETC. 
 
 249 
 
 computed, at least nine-tenths of all the heat 
 with it. With the introduction of stoves 
 and furnaces, this ventilator .was closed, and 
 the air of warm rooms became unhealthily 
 dry and hot, or vitiated by use, especially in 
 schools, ball-rooms, court-rooms, public as- 
 semblies, etc. Many disorders were aggra- 
 vated or made more common by this state 
 of things ; such as headaches, nervous affec- 
 tions, and lung complaints. Various plans 
 of ventilation have been adopted to remedy 
 these evils, but the principles of the science 
 of pneumatics are even yet so imperfectly 
 understood that no entirely satisfactory sys- 
 tem of ventilation has yet been devised. 
 The modes formerly used for large public 
 buildings, such as churches : an opening at 
 the ceiling, with a device outside ibr form- 
 ing an upward current by the help of the 
 wind ; in private houses, openings at the 
 si<les of rooms, communicating indirectly 
 with the external air ; and wdiere hot-air 
 furnaces were used, a pipe supplying air 
 from without, which is warmed by the 
 furnace, and passed on into the apart- 
 ments, are now to a considerable extent 
 giving place to a forced and downward ven- 
 tilation, which more eflectually removes the 
 foul air, and avoids a cun;ent of cold air 
 near the floor. 
 
 Tlie use of gas for lighting streets and 
 hou>e-i was first invented by an Englishman 
 named Murdoch, and tried at Redruth, in 
 Cornwall, in 1793. It was first introduced 
 in the city of New York by the old New 
 York Gas Company, chartered in 1823. It 
 is now used iii most of our cities, and its 
 deprivation would be thought a very serious 
 misfortune. 
 
 All cquall\% and indeed much more labor- 
 saving and convenient improvement in our 
 modern domestic architectural arrangements, 
 is the introduction of water from water 
 works. Water works were commenced in 
 New York before the Revolution, in 1774 ; 
 but none were erected there until 1797, 
 « hen the Manhattan Company put up a res- 
 ervoir on what is now Chambers street. 
 These small works were superseded by the 
 Croton acjueduct, opened in 1842. Phila- 
 delphia was first supplied by a steam engine 
 in 1799; and this was replaced by the 
 celebrated Fairmount works, commenced in 
 1811. Almost all our larger or more enter- 
 prising cities are now provided with aque- 
 ducts. 
 
 The fountains thus set flowins; in our 
 
 houses save all water-carrying, for bathing 
 or cleaning purposes, either up or down 
 stairs ; for a proper connection with a sew- 
 erage system will admit of a sink as well as 
 a water pipe in every story. The burden- 
 some daily details of housework arc thus 
 very greatly lightened, and health, and time, 
 and exertion very much economized by the 
 various appliances of the modern city bath- 
 room. 
 
 Within fifteen years, there have been in- 
 troduced into many of the more luxurious 
 city houses, hoistways, somewhat like those 
 used in stores, but upholstered, and, in f:ict, 
 fitted up like little rooms ; these are raised 
 and lowered so as to save the exertion of 
 using the stairs, and are exceedingly con- 
 venient for the old and feeble. 
 
 This brief enumeration oF improvements 
 in domestic architecture could not properly 
 include what may, however, in conclusion, 
 be merely mentioned ; that is, those large 
 and splendidly finished houses which are 
 erected by the great millionaires of the pres- 
 ent day. The costly frescoes, the statues, 
 the extravagant splendor of their fitting, 
 the picture-galleries, conservatories, libra- 
 ries, etc., etc., though good and beautiful 
 in themselves, are exceptions, but have been 
 greatly multiplied within the past fifteen or 
 twenty years. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FURNITURE— FURNISHING GOODS, ETC. 
 
 The furniture of country dwellings during 
 the latter part of the last century was scantier 
 than now, and, on the whole, of nnich 
 cheaper quality and poorer make, although 
 that of the wealthy was often handsomely 
 designed, well and massively made, and 
 heavily and tastefully ornamented. Little 
 machinery was used in manufacturing fur- 
 niture, which had, therefore, to be made 
 by hand labor. This made patterns moio 
 numerous, as one design usually served lor a 
 single side-board, set of chairs, etc., and for 
 those made by one workman only ; while 
 now, one pattern may serve for thousands of 
 sets. There was, therefore, greater variety, 
 and often remarkably fine workmanship, and 
 even artistic skill. The greater cheapness 
 of wood, and the little use made of veneer- 
 ing, occasioned much furniture to be made 
 of solid wood. Many pieces of this ancient, 
 
250 
 
 SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 solid furniture now bring extravagant prices 
 at auction, or from a second hand slore, 
 where chance supplies a bu3'er with tasle 
 and means. As nuich as forty, or even six- 
 ty doll irs each have been given for old- 
 fashioned, carved, mahogany chairs ; from 
 twenty-five to fifty dollars for a tall clock, 
 etc.. etc. 
 
 The increase in the supply of nionc}-, the 
 decrease of any distinction between classes 
 of society, and the general dilfusion of 
 wealth and comfort, render the diti'erence 
 between the furniture of the rich, and that 
 of the poor, much less at the present day 
 than formerly. Comparatively few luxuries 
 of any kind are now accessible to the rich, 
 which are not so to the farmer and the me- 
 chanic. This is not, of course, to be under- 
 stood of the very poor, nor the very rich ; 
 nor of the most e.\pensive luxuries; for 
 Uobelin carpets an inch thick, marble stat- 
 ues, and |)ictures by great artists, Johannis- 
 beig wine, Strasbuig pies, and the like, can 
 never be possessed except by ver}' few. 
 
 The bedsteads of our grandparents and 
 great-grandparents were very commonly 
 "four-posters;" that is, they consisted of 
 four tall posts, into which were framed the 
 side and end pieces. These posts often sup- 
 ported a wooden frame covered with cloth, 
 somewhat like a roof, and called a "tester," 
 from whose four sides hung down the cur- 
 tains. Feather beds were universally used. 
 Sheets were of linen ; and coverlets of patch- 
 work, raarseilles, chintz, etc. 
 
 Carpets were comparatively little used ; 
 most people contenting themselves with a 
 floor, washed clean, sanded, or, at most, 
 painted. The carpets used eighty years ago 
 were mostly linglish or Scotch ingrain, though 
 a good many home-ma<le rag-carpets were 
 also used ; and the price per yard was, per- 
 haps, S1.5IJ to I>1.'75; not varying very much 
 from the present price of a fair article, though 
 the same sum represented more value then. 
 There is a well-known anecdote of an honest 
 old farmer who was one day introduced, for 
 the first time, to a carpeted room. The car- 
 pet, as was usual in those days, was a sort 
 of patch in the middle of the room, sur- 
 rounded with a wide margin of bare floor. 
 The visitor skirted cautiously along the sides 
 of the room, and when invited by the lady 
 of the house to walk across, excused himself 
 with rustic politeness, because, he said, "his 
 boots were too dirty to walk on the " kiver- 
 
 lidr 
 
 Chairs were of hard wood — maple, oak, 
 cherry, or mahogany — with seats of wood, 
 basket-work, or cushion, covered with cloth, 
 haircloth, or leather. Much skill and taste 
 was expended on many of the costly solid 
 mahogany parlor chairs, and they are even 
 now much more stately than most of their 
 modern successors. The rocking-chair — a 
 truly American invention — dates back to a 
 point not ascertained, but certainly not less 
 than seventy or eighty years ago. No rock- 
 ing-chairs of so antique a pattern as common 
 chairs can, however, be found. An early 
 improvement upon the old-fashioned wooden 
 or wicker chair-seat was the straw-seat, of 
 straw or rushes, woven together in four com- 
 partments, which converged to the middle 
 of the seat. The cane-seat, woven like fine 
 basket-work of slender strips of ratan, came 
 afterward, and is still much used ; it is 
 strong, neat, light, and convenient. Many 
 business and study chaii'S are now made 
 with the seat pivoted on a stout iron pin — a 
 very convenient invention, rendering it very 
 easy to turn round from writing desk to cus- 
 tomer or client. 
 
 Tables were made of oak, pine, cher- 
 ry, black walnut, and mahogany. In old- 
 fashioned houses may sometimes still be 
 seen a small table hinged to the wall at one 
 side, so as to turn up flat against it, secured, 
 when not in use, by a button. A leg hinged 
 on beneath hung flat to the table wdicn thus 
 raised, and swung to its right place when 
 lowered. Some old tables were enormously 
 heavy, framed almost as strongly as a house, 
 and with curiously complicated swinging legs 
 to hold up the leaves. Such tables were of- 
 ten heirlooms, as was much household furni- 
 ture. The substantial strength and solid 
 materials used rendered it much more fit to 
 serve generation after generation than the 
 lighter and cheaper articles now made. The 
 present "extension tables," which are fre- 
 quently used in dining-rooms, were first 
 patented in 1843; they draw out within 
 certain limits to any length, when additional 
 boards supply the top. Thus the same ta- 
 ble accommodates either a large party or a 
 small one. 
 
 The sideboard was an indispensable arti- 
 cle in dining-rooms where it could be afford- 
 ed, being used instead of a closet, to hold 
 plate, wine, table-linen, cake, etc. 
 
 Bureaus, or chests of drawers, were made 
 on a larger scale than now, sometimes tow- 
 ering far toward the ceiling, containing a 
 
FURNITURE FURNISHING GOODS, ETC. 
 
 251 
 
 great number of drawers, large and small, 
 and often ornamented in a peculiar and 
 striking manner at the handles and keyholes, 
 with brass escutcheons elaborately and fanci- 
 fully pierced or carved. 
 
 'i he movable wash-stands, thongh still in 
 use, have been replaced in many city houses, 
 where aqueduct water in pipes is used, by 
 ii.xed stands, usually titted with elegant niai- 
 ble tops, having fixed basins sunk in them, 
 faucets for water, and connecting by waste 
 water pipes with sewer. A '■ water-back," 
 or boiler, attached to thy kitchen range or 
 sto^'e, is so arranged as to supply hot water 
 throush jiipes, from which another faucet 
 supplies hot water as desired — a most com- 
 fortable provision in cold weather. 
 
 China and gla-s ware were much more 
 costly than at present; pressed glass, now 
 so extensively used, having been introduced 
 only within the present century. I'ewter 
 platters and plates were frequently the only 
 dishes on a country table. Table crockery 
 was of white stoneware, usually blue-edged, 
 or of the " willow pattern," though some 
 heavy china was imported. There was lit- 
 tle silver ware, but what there was, was 
 more solidlj' manufactured than that now in 
 use. Block tin was much used until linally 
 superseded by llritannia metal, which came 
 into use al)out forty years since ; " albata," 
 a sort of white metal, introduced within 
 about twenty-live )"ears, and German silver, 
 an invention dating back, in this country, 
 about twice as far. A still later substitute 
 for the precious metals is " oreide," a sort 
 of brass, very closely resembling gold ; and 
 another, discovered wi:liin the last lifteen 
 years by a French chemist, is aluminum, a 
 light, strong metal, resembling silver in ap- 
 pearance, which can be extracted from com- 
 mon clay, and other aluminous earths. 
 This last metal, with its alloys, has already 
 come into very extensive use, for household 
 as well as other purposes. 
 
 Silver forks were first brought into gen- 
 eral use about thirty-five or forty years 
 since. Those previously used were the 
 common three-pronged steel forks, or two- 
 pronged ones, either of them sufficiently 
 inconvenient for carrying loose food to the 
 mouth. Another improvement, about as 
 old, in table furniture, is the invention of 
 balance<l knife handles, the weight in the 
 handle keeping the blade off the table cloth 
 when laid down ; a little thing, but very 
 promotive of cleanliness. 
 
 Instead of the modern Yankee clock, the 
 first patent for which was taken out by Eli 
 Terry, of Plymouth, Conn., in 1797, were 
 used either small Dutch clocks, stuck up on 
 the wall, like a swallow's nest, or the old- 
 fiishioned tall clocks, in cases seven feet 
 high, which were sometimes very hand- 
 somely ornamented with carving, brass dec- 
 orations, and richly painted dials. On the 
 broad ftices of these old clocks were some- 
 times given, besides the hour and the min- 
 ute, a whole almanac of indications : the 
 time of high tide, moon's age, day of the 
 week and month, name of month, year, 
 etc., etc. Occasionally, a wooden bird 
 came out and was supposed to sing, or a 
 tune w.as played when the hour struck. 
 A considerable number of these old clocks, 
 most of the best of which were made during 
 the first quarter of this century, are still in 
 use, and they are often excellent time-keep- 
 ers. 
 
 These observations do not include the 
 Mississippi valley, which was just beginning 
 to be settled by Anglo-American pioneers 
 at the close of the revolutionary war. In 
 all that extensive region, the rudest substi- 
 tutes for all the supposed indispensable in- 
 struments of civilized life were used. Fur- 
 niture, indeed, scarcely existed. A bedstead 
 and a table, rudely hewn out by the sharp 
 axe of the master of the house, some stools 
 of the same manufacture, a shelf, a row of 
 pegs in the log wall, an iron kettle, which 
 often served in its own proper person the 
 various purposes of wash-basin, cooking- 
 kettle, soup-turcen, slop-dish, dish-pan, 
 swill-pail, and hog-trough ; a few tins, or a 
 little crockery, a chest or two, a stump hol- 
 lowed at the top for a mortar to pound corn, 
 and a stick for a pestle — such was the 
 scanty furnishing of that day in that region. 
 As the population has increased, it has 
 brought with it from tlie older states all 
 their improvements, and now no distinc- 
 tion can be found between the two sections — 
 at least, so far as concerns those of moderate 
 or liberal means. 
 
 Lamps, for oil, or candles of tallow, 
 sperm, or wax, were the only means of 
 lighting either rooms or streets, eighty j-ears 
 ago. A great amount of ingenuity has been 
 expended on lamjis ; a bundled and thirty- 
 seven patents for them having been is-ued 
 from 1798 to 1847, and quite as many more 
 since that date. The variety of these, and 
 of the substances to the use of which they 
 
252 
 
 SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 are adapted, is remarkable. There are yet 
 some families which make their own mould 
 or dip tallow candles ; but only a few. 
 'I'liose who still use candles, mostly, either 
 indulge in the costly luxury of wax or 
 sperm, or use some of the various lately 
 invented substitutes, introduced within twen- 
 ty or thirty years, such as the so-called 
 " margarine," " stearine," etc.. made from 
 lard, or the more r'jcent " paratfine " can- 
 dles, of a material extracted from coal or 
 petroleum. The first innovation upon the 
 olil-fashi(Mied custom of using oil lamps — 
 not, however, including in this term the 
 Argand and similar modifications of it — was 
 the intriiduction of lamps for the use of 
 buniinii-tluid and of camphene, which were 
 preparations of oil of turpentine and alco- 
 hol, and though neat and convenient to use, 
 and giving a pleasant liglit, were, in careless 
 hands, the occasion of a terrible number of 
 deaths and maimings by burning. These 
 fluids were in general use during more than 
 twenty years. Not long after the introduction 
 of cam))heMe, a large nnmlier of lamps were 
 invented for burning lard oil, tlnn just be- 
 ginning to be manufactured, and also lard, 
 tallow, and other gross animal fats. About 
 thirty patents were issued for lard lamps 
 alone, during 1842 and 1843, including 
 lamps of the common standard style, argand 
 and solar patterns, etc. These lamps, in 
 some cases, gave a very good light, but it 
 proved troublesome to light them during 
 cold weather, and tiny required much greasy 
 work in cleaninjr, etc. 
 
 During the last twenty years, another 
 class of illuminators has come into use. and 
 are now almost universally used whei-e there 
 is no gas. These are the various oils known 
 as coal oil, kerosene, astral oil, etc., etc., 
 distilled or purified from the crude petrole- 
 um of Western Pennsylvania, West Vir- 
 ginia, Ohio, and Cana(ia ; the heavy oil- 
 fVom these wells, and from the sh.ales and 
 fatty coals being used for lubricating pur- 
 poses. They require a chimney for burn- 
 ing, and are apt to smoke. The odor of 
 the oil wheVi exposed to the air is unpleas- 
 ant, bat when burning is not generally ofl^en- 
 sive; but many of them are explosive, not 
 being properly prepared, and thousands of 
 deaths have been caused by their careless 
 use. 
 
 Improvements in furniture are gradually 
 introduced, and in a manner which renders 
 it peculiarly difficult to fix precise dates. It 
 
 may be said in general, that the uniform 
 tendency has been toward lightness and con- 
 venience of form. The artistic beauty of 
 the designs has also of late years greatly 
 improved. 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 FOOD— COOKING, ETC. 
 
 The general character of the food, drink, 
 and cooking of three quarters of a century 
 ago, was not very difl'erent from that of 
 to-day. Meats were the same, but less fresh 
 meat was eaten ; halt beef, salt pork, and 
 bacon being the ordinary meat, and the beef 
 and pork barrel being almost as uni\er=al 
 and necessary in the household as the flour 
 barrel. 'J he common vegetables were pota- 
 toes, turnips, cabbages, and onions, with a 
 few beets and paisuips. Carrots were 
 scarcely used at all. At the south, sweet 
 potatoes were, as at present, used in place of 
 Irish potatoes, and okra, rice, etc., were also 
 cultivated as at present. Tomatoes were 
 scarcely known at the north, until about 
 1830 or 183.5, when they were occasionally 
 brought from the south, and gradually began 
 to be cultivated, under the name of "love- 
 apples." The egg-plant, spinach, cauliflower, 
 broccoli, and other kitchen-garden phmts, 
 have also been introduced since the begin- 
 ning of the century, from abroad. 
 
 Bread of rye, " lye-and-Indian," or In- 
 dian meal alone, and Indian puddings, 
 johnny-cake, and the like, were more used 
 than at present; for most grinding was done 
 at the small country mills ; transportation 
 was slow, difficult, and costly ; neither the 
 great wheat fields of the east, nor the great- 
 er ones of the west, wore yielding their in- 
 crease ; and the great figuring mills that are 
 supported by them had not grown up. 
 Every farmer's family, therefore, commonly 
 used breailstutf of its own raisuig ; and but 
 a very small share of that used in the towns 
 was brought from any other than the imme- 
 diate neighborhood. 
 
 All the labor of preparing the raw mate- 
 rial for food w.as performed in the family. 
 All the coffee had to be burnt and ground, 
 spices pulverized, salt powdered, yeast made, 
 soap manufactured, meat pickled, etc., etc., 
 by each housekeeper for herself, or under 
 her immediate supervision. 
 
 Throughout the extensive western forest 
 frontier, a large proportion of the inhabi- 
 
KITCME.V IIF 177 
 
 KII(]IE\ IN 1,S7(|. 
 
177G. 
 
 EVENING DRESS. 1780. 
 
 1780. 
 
 1785. 
 
 BVEfilNU DlttSS. 1790. EVENIKO DRESa 1797. 
 
 180U. 
 
 1806. 
 
 1803. 
 
 1812. 
 
 1812. 
 
 1812. 
 
1815. 
 
 1818. 
 
 1S20. 
 
 1825. 
 
 :s2s. 
 
 WIXTEU DKESS. 1833. 
 
 1833. 
 
 1833. 
 
 1833. 
 
 1840. 
 
 1844. 
 
 1850. 
 
FASHIONS FROM lS5n TO IStiO. 
 
 n.AIN DUKSS OF VAIUOI'S I'KKIOUS. KXTIiKMK FASMIOXS OF 18()S-9. 
 
253 
 
 tants lived in great part upon game ; but 
 this was, from the difficulty of transportation, 
 even less accessible in the older settlements 
 than now, when it must be brought from 
 the distant lakes, and streams, and woods of 
 Canada or Maine. 
 
 The use of spirituous and malt liquors was 
 universal. It was thought no impropriety 
 for distinguished clergymen to own a shai'e 
 in a distillery ; and the meetings of ministers 
 on religious business were made occasions of 
 jollity, often even to such an extent that the 
 reverend companions went home quite tipsy. 
 Cider was drank in the country, and cider, 
 rum, brandy, or wine in town, at every 
 meal. Spirits were expected to be offered 
 to every visitor, and if not, the host was 
 thought mean and sting}'. 
 
 Cooking was performed over an open 
 wood fire ; a mode in many respects more 
 laborious and less convenient than the pres- 
 ent use of stoves and ranges ; but which, if 
 skilfully conducted, gives the food a flavor 
 more perfect and delicate than can be attain- 
 ed in any other manner. 
 
 As has been implied, the changes in food 
 have thus been more in the treatment than 
 in the materials of it. The chief of these 
 changes, like those in warming houses, have 
 arisen from the introduction of anthracite 
 coal into use, which has caused the employ- 
 ment of cooking-stoves and ranges, instead 
 of the open fire. Nearly four hundred 
 ]iatents for cooking-stoves and ranges were 
 issued from 1812 to 1S47, and a much great- 
 er mimber have been granted since ; the 
 total number of such patents may safely be 
 estimated at more than twelve hundred. 
 
 An early style of cooking-stove, and quite 
 a favorite one in its day, was the rotary, 
 whose top could be swivelled round by a 
 crank and cog-wheel geared to a ratchet 
 underneath its edge, so as to bring any 
 sauce pan or kettle forward to the cook. 
 This variety is, however, now nearly obso- 
 lete, and innumerable later inventions have 
 succeeded, each enjoying a brief reputation, 
 usually conferred rather by diligent adver- 
 tisement than by any real peculiar merits in 
 the stove itself. 
 
 The cooking range may be described as a 
 modified stove bricked into a fireplace, in- 
 stead of standing out in the room. Its oven, 
 instead of being back of the fireplace, as in 
 a stove, is above it, or at the sides. Some- 
 times there are two, besides a plate warmer, 
 and generally they are much more capacious 
 
 than a stove oven. They are now, where- 
 ever there are water works, usually con- 
 structed with a water back and boiler of 
 copper, or galvanized iron. The use of stoves 
 and ranges has rendered cooking more con- 
 venient, but lias, ill a great measure, substi- 
 tuted the baking of meats in the oven for 
 the old fashion of roasting. They are far 
 cheaper and easier in management than an 
 open fire ; and in all the older portions of 
 the country are necessary, because wood 
 could not be furnished to supply the kitch- 
 ens. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 DRESS. 
 
 In discussing the changes of costume since 
 the revolutionary war, it will be more con- 
 venient to divide it with reference to female 
 than to male costume. On this principle, 
 the period from 17S3 or thereabouts may be 
 divided into five, thus :— 
 
 1. 1783 to French Revolution. 
 
 2. French Revolution to 1815. 
 
 3. 1815 to 1830. 
 
 4. 1830 to 1845. 
 
 5. 1845 to present time. 
 
 Speaking generally, the changes thus suc- 
 ceeding each other have been improvements; 
 although almost all of them have been suffi- 
 ciently absurd in themselves. These fash- 
 ions have always come from England or 
 France; since about 1815, almost entirely 
 from France. 
 
 1. Period first, 1783 to French Revolu- 
 tion. At the close of the Revolution in 1783, 
 the costume of gentlemen was in the Eng- 
 lish style of the day, viz. : a single-breasted 
 low-collared coat of broadcloth, commonly 
 of some gay color, often scarlet, bright blue, 
 claret color, peach-blossom, with full skirts, 
 and ample pocket-flaps, sleeves, and cuffs ; 
 a waistcoat, with long flaps; knee-breeches, 
 often also of gay colors, fastened at the outer 
 side of the knee with a buckle ; long stock- 
 ings, black, white, or colored ; shoes with 
 the well-known showy buckles, or boots with 
 a broad piece of white or unstained leather 
 turned down around the tops, and therefore 
 called top-boots ; a ruffled shirt, a lace cra- 
 vat, powdered hair, a queue, not unfrequent- 
 ly a wig, and a three-cornered cocked hat. 
 A very few aged men still wear or have worn 
 this costume within the last ten years, even 
 to the queue and the shirt-frill. The cocked 
 
254 
 
 SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 hat did not maintain its place so long, 
 though quite often to be seen during the 
 first quarter of the present century. 
 
 The formal stateliness of this old costume 
 suited well the more careful manners and 
 stiff politeness of the day ; for even in ourre- 
 publieau country, the distinctions of social 
 rank and station prevailed to an extent which 
 few people now realize. Old persons now 
 living can reuieniber when " Mr." was a title 
 considered exclusively proper for the "gen- 
 try;" when a "gentleman's" son would have 
 been reproved by his father for calling a far- 
 mer " Mr." A farmer or mechanic was call- 
 ed "goodman," and liis wife not "Mrs." or 
 "mistress," but "goody." 
 
 Female costume was on the whole, per- 
 haps, le*s strikingly diti'erent from that now 
 in vogue, except in head-dress. Its other 
 most distinguishing characteristics were 
 high-heeled slioes, often of bright red or 
 other strong colors ; sleeves to the elbows, 
 ■with heavy lace ruffles ; a tight, close, long 
 waist, and a skirt stiti'ened out by lioops 
 very nearly as nuuh as by the "skeleton 
 skirts " recently iu use. 
 
 The head-dressc-^, then fashionable, ivere 
 however, most monstrous, and furnished an 
 endless theme for satire and jest. The hair 
 was greased, and powdered, and "craped," as 
 it was called — that is, combed up over artitirial 
 hair, a mass of tow, or a cushion ; artiticial 
 flowers were worked into it, br(jad ribbons 
 hung around it, feathers three feet high 
 stuck into it, all soits of vegetable-looking 
 leaves and even fruit and vegetables them- 
 selves (imitated) were piled on, and a mass 
 constructed which it seemed totally impossi- 
 ble for a lady's neck to uphold or endure ; 
 which was often, literally and truly, quite as 
 large as a bushel basket. A caricature of 
 those days represents a lady sitting in a chair 
 during her head-dressing, while one barber, 
 mounted on a tall pair of steps, is frizzling a 
 curl, and another stan<ls off at one side, tak- 
 ing the altitude of the edifice he has hel])ed 
 to build, with a quadrant. Calashes, whose 
 gig-top appearance almost every one may 
 remember to have seen, were invented long 
 before this time, as early as 1765, as the 
 only contrivauee in the nature of a bonnet 
 which would cover these vast machines. 
 Such head-dresses required great skill in 
 preparation and adjustment, and could, of 
 course, not be made up by the owner herself. 
 It was the business of the barber, and often 
 occupied two or three tedious hours. The 
 
 idea of going through such an operation 
 dailv was out of the question, and these 
 "heads," as they were called, were made to 
 last sometimes for weeks together. Indeed, 
 they were continually corrupting, even so 
 that worms bred iu them, among the flour 
 used for h.air-powder and the pomatum ; and 
 numerous recipes were in use for poisons to 
 prevent vermin from breeding in them. 
 Sleeping in the natural posture was, of 
 course, impossible ; ladies slept sitting up or 
 with a carefully arranged support for the 
 neck and head, adapted to the precious mass 
 of absurdities that crowned it. 
 
 Period second, French Revolution to 
 1815. The French Revolution may be 
 called the conclusion of the era of those 
 strange fashions. The freedom of that period, 
 so licentious in politics, was equally so in 
 dress, and in this department, as in the other, 
 caused many and great changes both at 
 home and abroad. In this country, which 
 had before that time followed the English 
 fashions almost exclusively, those of France 
 now began to take the lead, and the ancient 
 caprices of dress to be replaced by others 
 more modern, but not less absurd. 
 
 From about 1780, down to about 1800, 
 women's skirts grew more and more scanty 
 in circumference, until they were "gored," 
 and cut so close as to almost impede walk- 
 ing. The waist was also carried up some- 
 times to one inch below the arm-pit, and the 
 neck at the same time cut indecently low. 
 The skirt was fitted closely to the figure, no 
 wrinkles being admissible, and the fewest 
 possible underclothes were worn; a fashion 
 both abominably ugly and very unhealthy. 
 These un<jainly waists excited much deserved 
 ridicule. A well-known song beginuinsj — 
 
 " Sliephords, I have lost niy love — 
 Have you seeu my Auua ?" 
 
 was parodied so as to apply to them, com- 
 mencing with — 
 
 " Sliepherds. I have lost my waist — 
 Have you seeu my body?" 
 
 The variations in bonnets and head- 
 dresses (hiring this same period were many 
 and wonderful. In 1786, women wore their 
 hair frizzed and powdered ; and for riding 
 costume, a man's jacket with broad lapels, 
 and a broad-brimmed hat. In 1789, the 
 hair was frizzled out into an enormous bush, 
 sometimes with a quantity of dangling curls 
 besides ; and bonnets, to hold this affair, 
 
^51 
 
 were made like an upriifht hag stiffened out. 
 In 179+ a fashion came in of tinishing np 
 the liead-dross with feathers half a yard high. 
 About 1795 these st3'les of expansive head- 
 dress disappeared, and small bonnets came 
 into use all at once, like a helmet or a straw 
 cap, with a vizor, very much like those now 
 worn. 
 
 From 1805 to 1810, bare arms were much 
 in fashion with women, and a singular mode 
 of wearing gloves prevailed. The glove 
 was worn with a long armlet attached, 
 which was drawn on smoothly up to the 
 elbow, and then pushed down again so as to 
 lie in irregular wrinkles on the arm, which 
 was reckoned remarkably pretty. These 
 were termed " rucked gloves." About 1808 
 was introduced the "gunboat" style of 
 bonnet, which consisted of a moderate-sized 
 crown, and a wiile expanse of brim, spread- 
 ing out around the face, in a form fancied to 
 resemble the peculiar shape of a gunboat, 
 which is very wide toward the bows. 
 
 About 1810 appeared the plaid cloaks, 
 used both by men and women, which may 
 still sometimes be found hung up in an old 
 closet ; very wide and long, and for women 
 having a great clumsy hood hanging at the 
 back of the neck. In 1814 the bonnets all 
 at once spread out into an immense crown, 
 leaving very little brim. 
 
 Men's costume varied during this time no 
 less. The reign of powder and pigtails may 
 be said to have ended about 1793, inline- 
 diatelv after the French Revolution ; and 
 about the same time the round hat took the 
 place of the three-cornered cocked hat. A 
 little later, perhaps about 1800, people began 
 to leave off wearing wigs when they had 
 hair of their own. It is hard to comprehend 
 how people could submit so long to a cus- 
 tom so disfiguring, inconvenient, and cum- 
 brous — for every wig-wearer had to have his 
 whole head shaved every few days, and 
 lived in constant peril of making a fantastic 
 appearance if his clumsy and unsafe head- 
 gear should be knocked off. Yet the mode 
 prevailed for two hundred years ; nearly from 
 1600 to 1800. 
 
 One of the eai'ly costumes which replaced 
 the ante-revolutionary fashions for men, and 
 which was the height of the ton in 1''86, 
 consisted of a very broad-brimmed hat ; a 
 powdered wig with a pig-tail ; a coat with a 
 very short waist, broad lapels, and tremen- 
 dous swallov^-tails ; buckskin breeches, and 
 top-boots. 
 
 During this period, and, indeed, down to 
 about 1830, gentlemen's necks were often 
 swathed with an enormous thickness of 
 cravat ; a fashion said to have been intro- 
 duced by George IV., while a leader of 
 fashion, to hide the scrofulous swelling of 
 his neck. Two or three handkerchiefs, 
 each a full yard square, were thus worn ; 
 giving the neck an appearance which now 
 seems excessively dowdy and uncomfortable. 
 
 During the closing years of the last cen- 
 tury, knee-breeches began to vield to the 
 pantaloon, wliich came from Franco ; and 
 shoe-buckles disappeared to give place to a 
 mere string or ribbon. The prince-regent 
 of England, afterward George IV., first led 
 this fashion, although he resumed buckles 
 at the petition of the buckle-makers, who 
 represented that the ruin of their trade 
 would starve them. It was ruined, however, 
 in spite of them and him, and notwithstand- 
 ing that he was the inventor of a shoe-buckle. 
 
 This introduction of the pantaloon and 
 the shoe-string, and the disuse of wigs, marks 
 the era of the modern costume. The dress- 
 coat, however, or a garment much like it, 
 was worn at intervals, as early as 1750; 
 although it did not definitely occupy the 
 place of the old-fashioned broad skirts until 
 about 1800. It should bo observed that 
 " pantaloon" means, in its first strict sense, 
 a garment fitting quite tightly to the shape 
 of the leg, and buttoning close around the 
 ankles, as if a prolongation of the knee- 
 breeches. The present pantaloons are in 
 strictness " trowsers," having been intro- 
 duced as such, and by that name, under the 
 auspices of the Duke of Wellington, after 
 the battle of Waterloo. 
 
 High-heeled shoes, for women, went out 
 of use about 1789, and were replaced by 
 something very like the present graceful, 
 low-quartered shoe. Round toes, for men's 
 shoes and boots, came in about the same 
 time, and prevailed until about 1804 or 
 1 806, when the first beginnings appeared of 
 square toes. 
 
 Period third, 1815 to 1830. The last 
 period may be characterized as that of tight, 
 scant dresses. The present one may be de- 
 scribed as that of big bonnets, pufi'ed hair, 
 and leg-of-mutton sleeves, which last, how- 
 ever, appeared only toward its end. 
 I Knee breeches, which had continued to be 
 "full dress," were now quite out of date. 
 I Frock-coats had been introduced by the 
 I Duke of Wellintrton and his officers after the 
 
258 
 
 SOCIAL ASD DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 peninsular war, together with the boot called 
 after him. In 1815 trowscrs began to be 
 Avorn, being also introduced under his aus- 
 pices ; although the original pantaloon, with 
 its tight, close fit and ankle-buttons, main- 
 tained itself for ten years or more before 
 quite disappearing. In 1815, also, bonnets 
 underwent a great revolution, shrinking to 
 small dimensions in the crown, and spread- 
 ing into a portentous brim. 
 
 Not fiir from 1820 began what may be 
 called the modern era of tight lacing, which 
 was adopted as the short waists began to be 
 replaced by longer ones, and the recent 
 type of female dress, viz., a long waist, 
 bulging with a sudden angle into a volumi- 
 nous skirt, became established. About 1825 
 was adopted a method of wearing the hair 
 in great puft's at the sides and on the top of 
 ■ the head, dressed, also, with large bows of 
 ribbon. To hold this array, an enormous 
 bonnet was required, and was used. Skirts 
 now began to be a very little fuller ; two or 
 three plaits at the waist being all that were 
 at first admitted, and more being introduced 
 from time to time. About 1828 began the 
 "leg-of-mutton sleeves," which grew at once 
 to enormous proportions. These ridiculous 
 and most inconvenient appendages were 
 stufled out with down, or held out with reed, 
 millinet, or whalebone ; but they were con- 
 tinually becoming crushed, and were very 
 troublesome. They hail a certain absurd 
 harmony with the big bonnets and puffed 
 hair of the day, as well as with the broad- 
 shouldered, stiffly-cut capes that were worn 
 with them. 
 
 Period fourth, 1830 to 1845. The be- 
 ginning of this period is marked by the 
 introduction of the costume of the days 
 of Jackson — the bell-crowned hat, long, 
 swallow-tailed coat, with high collar and 
 " bishop" sleeves, and loose trowscrs. The 
 bishop sleeves were distinguished by rising 
 into a ridge where they were set in at 
 tlie shoulder, as do the sleeves of the 
 episcopal vestments; this ridge being in 
 1830-35, stuffed with cotton to hold them 
 up. The big bonnefs and pufled hair, 
 wide capes and leg-of-muttons still prevailed. 
 Boots and shoes were worn with very broad, 
 square toes until about 1840, when narrow 
 toes took their place ; and the calash, invent- 
 ed almost a hundred years before, was still 
 employed to cover the elaborate head-dress. 
 The decrease in the size of women's sleeves 
 is the chief feature of this period ; the minor 
 
 details of the successive changes of style 
 were innumerable, as usu.al. 
 
 Period fifth, 184.5 to 1872. This period, 
 also, may be dismissed with brief considera- 
 tion. Its first years were marked by the 
 introduction of the sack coat, or, as it is 
 called in France, the j^^letut. This easy, 
 commodious, and cheap garment is infinitely 
 more becoming than a di-ess-coat, and very 
 much more convenient tlian either that or a 
 frock coat. Though introduced in the pres- 
 ent century later than either the dress or 
 frock coat, the paletot may be traced to a faj- 
 greater antiquity ; a very similar garment 
 having been worn at the courts of France 
 and England about the year 1450. At 
 about the same time was introduced that 
 most preposterous of all feminine fashions, 
 the bustle, which was a sort of pad tied 
 on behind to make the skirts stand out 
 with the desirable degree of fulness. This 
 was made of various materials : cloth stuifed 
 with bran, hair, cotton, rags, old newspapers, 
 etc., and sometimes of India-rubber, inflated 
 with air. The bustle marked the beginning 
 of the recent fashion of expanded skirts. As 
 this machine did not sufficiently spread out 
 these garments, various other means were re- 
 sorted to ; the use of an enormous number ot 
 skirts — a habit most pernicious to health — 
 and skirts fewer in number, of stiffly-starched 
 cloth with cords sown on, or of grass cloth, 
 or hair cloth, or stiffViued out with many 
 cords of new manilla rope or common 
 clothes-line, or with whalebone or coils of 
 brass wire. All these having been tried 
 and foiled, the next invention came up, of 
 ' " skeleton-skirts," made of strips of iron 
 somewhat similar to a watch-spring. These 
 were pronounced (piite adequate to their 
 purpose ; although what the real reason of 
 that purpose was, it would be impossible to 
 say. Why women's skirts should consti- 
 tute a great stiff, hollow cone about their 
 lower limbs, wilh'u which they must wear 
 an entire second suit of clothes for warmth 
 and protection, was .an unanswerable riddle. 
 After an absolute reign of sixteen years, the 
 " hoop skirt" fell into disgrace, and scantier, 
 gored skirts, with pannier, and bouffant 
 over-skirts have taken its place. 
 
 Another fashion introduced during this 
 period was that of wearing soft felt hats, in- 
 stead of the round hats, which last are so 
 often described as " hard-shells," or " stove- 
 pipe" hats; nick-names well applied, but 
 which did not succeed in driving out this un- 
 
WHAT OUR GRANDMOTHERS LEARNED WHILE YOUNG. 
 
 WHAT Oni SISTERS AND DACOHTERS NOW LEARN. 
 
SOCIAL AND MENTAL CULTURE INTEUCOURSE — HEALTH ART, ETC. 
 
 2J9 
 
 comfortable and unreasonable flishion. The 
 felt hat was not often seen among us until 
 the enthusiasm which attended Kossuth's 
 visit to the United Slates in 1851 and 
 18.52 ; after which it was brought out, at 
 first with a feather, in close imitation of the 
 national hat of the liiiugarian hero, and 
 called a " Kossuth hat." The feather was 
 soon left otF, but the soft hat being found 
 both CO nfortable and graceful, was letained. 
 
 Tlie mast remarkable of the m;iny changes 
 of the last twenty live j'ears in the style of 
 woman's dress, and certainly one of the 
 most unwise, has been in the mode of dress- 
 ing the hair. In 184'), and for perhaps ten 
 years later the natural hair was worn almo-t 
 exclusively, with som 3 artilicial puffings, and 
 ringlets, perhaps, but generally without 
 other foreign additions ; but toward 1860, 
 there came in first the fashion of the " wa- 
 terfall," a considerable mass of padding, 
 over which the natural back hair was spread, 
 the ends passed up underneath, and the 
 whole confined in a depending and not wholly 
 ungraceful net. But tiiis soon gave place 
 to coils and large masses or wads of false, 
 or artificial hair, attached to the posterior 
 portion of the crown, frequently almost as 
 large as the head itself, forming a hideous 
 protuberance on the back of the head, and 
 giving the la;ly the appearance of being 
 two headed. This shocking style has been 
 modified so as to be a degree less ungrace- 
 ful ; but with all its accessories of curls, 
 love-locks, and pendants, the chignon is not 
 only a violation of all the laws of beauty 
 and good taste, but exceedingly injurious to 
 health, having increased more than ten fold 
 diseases of the brain, sp'ne, and scalp. This 
 fashion of wearing the hair necessitated a 
 material ch iiige in the bonnet, reducing its 
 size, (till it became almost infinitesim \\ at 
 one time) abolishing the cape and perching 
 it on the top of the head, and on the fore- 
 head, inste-id of on the back of the head, as 
 before. Within the past twelve or fifteen 
 years, the round hat in some form (and 
 there has been an almost infinite variety), has 
 largely superseded the bonnet, not only with 
 young ladies, but with those of middle age. 
 
 In reviewing the whole series of fashions 
 as thus briefly presented, it will appear that, 
 on the whole, there has been a decided im- 
 provement. There are, doubtless, a suffi- 
 cient number of not very wise fashions in 
 dress now prevailing ; but the preposterous, 
 filthy head dress of 1783, the indecent, 
 16* 
 
 scanty costume of 1800, the laukling-like 
 cravat of the same period, tlie bi oad shadow 
 of the gunboat bonnet, the balloon-like 
 appendage of the leg-of mutton sleeve, have 
 each, in turn, been super>eded by somethin"^, 
 on the whole, less foolish ; and it may be 
 claimed with safety, that at this present 
 writing, the fashions, both for men and 
 women, are in general based upon more 
 like common-sense principlis, and admit 
 more freedom in adaptr.tion, and, therefore, 
 greater convenience and grace, than has 
 ever before been the cafe It is matter of con- 
 gratidation, however, that an American taste 
 is being developed, and our ladies becoming 
 less dependent on fashions from abroad ; 
 and every year is yielding a larger liberty to 
 our female population, in adopting such 
 forms and colors as suit the peculiarities of 
 each individual, and this is stdl more the 
 case with men. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SOCIAL AISD MENTAL CULTUKE — IN- 
 TERCOURSE— HEALTH— ART, ETC. 
 
 Nearly all the increase in comfort and 
 happiness which is the pride of modern 
 civilization is traceable to scientific discov- 
 ery and to mechanical in\cntion. These 
 causes have supplied the means of the labor- 
 saving machines and processes of the last 
 tbree-qunrters of a centuiy. The use of 
 these machines and processes has brought 
 it to pass that men can earn their living by 
 the labor of a less proportion of their time 
 than formerly. And this power enables 
 them to devote a correspondingly larger 
 share of eflbrt to the task of gaining knowl- 
 edge, and of pressing forward in the path 
 of moral and mental improvement. The 
 amount of mental activity which has been 
 devoted to these material processes is aston- 
 ishing. The inventive genius of the Ameri- 
 can people, is without parallel in the world. 
 More than one hundred thcu-and patents 
 have been issued during the present century, 
 and every year now adds thirteen thousand 
 or fourteen thousand to the number. 
 
 The readiest way to sketch ihe general 
 progress of society at present sought to be 
 described, will be to set forth briefly, iu 
 chronological succession, the periods oi 
 occurrences which have marked the com- 
 mencement or maturity of any important 
 influence upon the prosperity of the com- 
 
260 
 
 SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 munity, without attempting to classify them 
 particularly. 
 
 In 1796 was taken out the first American 
 patent for a pianoforte, by J. S. McLean, 
 of New Jersey. The manufacture of these 
 instruments lias become very extensive ; the 
 larger manufactories sometimes turning out 
 thousands a year. So great and important 
 have been the improvements, bolh in these 
 and in reed iiistruments (cabinet organs and 
 the like), that in both, we have the highest 
 reputation in the world. 
 
 In 1799 Dr. Waterhouse, of Harvard Uni- 
 versity, first introduced Jenner's discovery of 
 vaccine inoculation ; a measure which has 
 substantially freed our community from the 
 fear, the pain, and the disfigurement of the 
 small-pox. This single discovery has had 
 no inconsiderable influence in lengthening 
 life, and increasing its happiness by dispelling 
 the apprehensions, always felt before, of suf- 
 fering and death. 
 
 The importance of regular, rapid, and 
 cheap modes of travel and transportation, to 
 the general improvement of society in wealth 
 and intelligence, is exceedingly groat. Dis- 
 tance of residence, difliculty of travelling, 
 diiHculty of carrying, has, through all the 
 history of the world, been a chief means of 
 keeping nations poor, because thus they 
 could not exchange what they had for what 
 they had not ; and thus, however much they 
 possessed of one thing, they were poor. For 
 wealth does not consist in mass of posses- 
 sions. Not mountains, even of gold, if un- 
 exchangeable, are wealth. Wealth is mass 
 and variefy of possessions together, and 
 must theretbro be produced by exchange, 
 that is, travel and transportation. The sea- 
 coast nations, commanding water-carriage, 
 have in the past, been tlie rich ones ; but 
 the introduction of steam railways, dating 
 from about 18;J0, has made our inland States 
 lich. There were in 1S72, over sixty thous- 
 and miles of railways in operation in the 
 United States. 
 
 Tills also tends to promote exchange of 
 mental wealth, by correspondence, visiting, 
 e^c.; maintains a sense of nationality, and 
 keeps up acciuaintance and good feeling. 
 AV'erc it not for ease of travel, there would 
 but slight hopes of keeping IMaine and 
 Georgia in the same re])ublic with Califor- 
 nia and Oregon. As it is they will remain. 
 
 In 1811, commenced a movement of a 
 very different character from that of the 
 inventor Fulton, but which has exerted an 
 
 influence upon the health and morals of our 
 nation, even more important than the bene- 
 fits of cheap and rapid locomotion. This 
 was the temperance reform. 
 
 The laxity of manners and morals which 
 must attend war, had greatly increased the 
 use of intoxicating liquor during the Revolu- 
 tion, and it continued to spread after the 
 peace. Dr. Rush had published his " In- 
 quiry into the Effects of Ardent Spirits," in 
 1 80-t ; but no decided movement against 
 their use was made until 1811, when the 
 Presbyterian General Assembly appointed 
 a committee on the subject. That and other 
 ecclesiastical bodies, at various times, passed 
 different resolutions and recommendations 
 intended to limit the use of liquor, but with 
 no very great success. The first total absti- 
 nence society was formed in Boston in 1826, 
 and during the following ten years, others 
 niultiplied with great rapidity, liquor-selling 
 became disreputable, and the common use 
 of ardent spirits was to a very great extent 
 broken up. Like most great reforms, how- 
 ever, the tem]ierance movement has had its 
 seasons of advance and retrogression, and 
 while taking the half century together since 
 its inauguration, it has made wonderful pro- 
 gress it has been rather by repeateil leaps 
 forward, than by a steady march. In 1839, 
 the Washingtonian movement, originating 
 among intemperate men, was a great ad- 
 vance ; the attempts at legislation on the 
 subject from 1H42 to the present time, have 
 done some good, and probably some evil ; 
 the absolute necessity for an enlightened 
 jmblic opinion to enforce them, not being 
 always understood. The great prevalence 
 of beer drinking, and the appetite for in- 
 toxicating liquors, stimulated by the late 
 war, have been .serious obstac'es to its suc- 
 cess. The organization of Temperance 
 orders, and the Father Slatlhew and other 
 class movements lia\e done much to make 
 liquor selling obnoxious, and tippling dis- 
 reputable. 
 
 In 18.32 the study of phrenology was in- 
 troduced into this country by Spurzheim. 
 This system, whatever the correctness of its 
 doctrines as to indications by the shape and 
 size of the head, which are certainly believ- 
 ed b\' many intelligent persons, is at any rate 
 entitled to the merit of having furnished a 
 new and very clear classification of the men- 
 tal faculties, which has become the means of 
 a great improvement in mental philosophy. 
 
 Two years later, viz., in 1834, the homoeo- 
 
SOCIAL AND MENTAL CULTURE INTERCOURSE HEALTH ART, ETC. 
 
 261 
 
 pathic systfm of medicine was introduced, 
 which has since become verj- extensively be- 
 lieved. As in regard to phrenology, it may 
 be said of this system, that whether all its 
 peculiar doctrines are true or false, it has at 
 least done good indirectly, by operating to 
 reduce the quantit}' of medicines given by 
 the old-fashioned practitioners, and to direct 
 their attention more than before to the very 
 important points of regimen, ventilation, 
 and the other collateral departments of gen- 
 eral livgiene. 
 
 Aliout 1840 was introduced into this 
 country the greatest improvement in picto- 
 rial art since the discovery of painting in 
 oils by John Van Eyck in the fifteenth cen- 
 tury ; the greatest discovery ever made in 
 that department of human knowledge ; viz., 
 the art of taking pictures by the chemical 
 action of light, named, from its discoverer, 
 daguerreotyping ; and various modifications 
 of which are known as the talhotype, am- 
 brolype, crystalotype, photograph, etc. Tliese 
 methods render it both easy and cheap to 
 procure an absolutely and necessarily per- 
 fect representation of a person or a thing. 
 Besides the pleasure of thus being enabled, 
 ' at a trifling cost, to possess a who e galleiy 
 of perfect portraits of friends, this art has 
 already been made useful in securing dia- 
 grams of lunar and other astronomical jihe- 
 nomena, and in taking pictures of buililings, 
 Uind>capes, etc. ; it has been applied to pur- 
 poses of scientific and medical discovery ; 
 and is now the basis of several processes of 
 printing, and is largely used in the illustra- 
 tion of books, etc., etc. 
 
 Not far from the same time, other sys- 
 tems of medical treatment were introduced 
 — the " water-cure," or " hydro])athic " sys- 
 tem, which has proved very useful in certain 
 classes of diseases ; the " Swe<lisli move- 
 ment " cure ; the use of electricity and 
 magnetism, and later the " Lifting cure," 
 and " The Oxygen treatment." '1 he first 
 named, besides a very simjile mode of life, 
 consists only in the application of water, at 
 various temperatures and in various ways ; 
 and it is successfully practised in many es- 
 tablishments devoted to it. All these new 
 systems, though incomplete as modes of 
 treatment for all classes of diseases, have 
 exerted a modifying influence upon the 
 regular practice. 
 
 In 1.S45 the principle of cheap postage 
 was established in this country by a law of 
 
 Congress, and another step thus taken to- 
 ward the entire release from tax or encum- 
 brance of the intercourse of one mind with 
 another. Cheap postage is one of the latest 
 signs of a high civilization ; it is one of the 
 most promising indications of our own 
 future. 
 
 Still one year later was discovered the 
 medical process, since termed " anassthesia," 
 which consists in rendering persons insensi- 
 ble by the inhalation of certain gases (ni- 
 trous oxide, ether, or chloroform), thus af- 
 fording an opportunity of perf irming surgi- 
 cal operations quite without the knowledge 
 of the patient. The agonies suffered in the 
 dentist's chair, or under the hands of the 
 surgeon, and the not less tormenting pain 
 of many nervous diseases, have thus been 
 much alleviated, and even entirely relieved. 
 
 In the same year was issued the first pat>- 
 ent for sewing machines, to Elias Ilowe, jr. 
 It is only necessary to allude to the very 
 great saving of time, and strength, and 
 health which these machines have effected ; 
 their effects are before the eyes of alL They 
 are performing in a day the work of weeks, 
 and doing very much to relieve women of a 
 species of labor which was principally con- 
 fined to them, but which consumed, in the 
 merest pettv drudgery, a wretchedly great 
 proportion of their time, and often ruined 
 health and destroyed life. 
 
 An important outgrowth of one of the 
 departments of improvement which have 
 been described, is the modern hotel. The 
 American first-class hotel is an institution 
 quite peculiar to this country, and in- 
 cludes within itself many of the various 
 inventions which have just been cata- 
 logued : splendid furniture, elaborate food, 
 economical and yet liberal housekeeping, 
 labor-saving machinery ; in short, an unri- 
 valled combination of the applications of 
 human ingenuity to the improvement of do- 
 mestic life. 
 
 To recapitulate : It has thus been 
 shown, though briefly and with many im- 
 perfections, that the course of our nation 
 during the ninety-seven years since the 
 Revolution, has been one of steadfast, es- 
 sential, and constant improvement in things 
 material and immaterial, physical and men- 
 tal, practical and ornamental ; in business, 
 travel, dress, homes and home comforts, 
 wealth, morals, intellect — in short, in every 
 department of human activity. 
 
BOOKS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BOOK TRADE — PUBLISHING — JOBBING- 
 RETAILING. 
 " Yankee curiosity" is frequently a sub- 
 ject of remark with the flippant writers and 
 travellers of the old world, and if not always 
 urged as a reproach, it is not seldom re- 
 ferred to in a deprecatin£; sense by those who 
 do not appreciate the immense activity of 
 intellect of which it is one manifestation. 
 There is no doubt either of the existence of 
 the alleged curiosity, or that it sometimes 
 exhibits itself in a ludicrous light ; but it 
 also manifests itself in the indefatigable in- 
 vestigations to which nature and art are con- 
 tinually subjected by the ever inquiring 
 Vmerican mind. There result from those 
 investigations, not the dreary metaphysical 
 theories that are evolved from German con- 
 templation, but those countless inventions, 
 improvements, and applications of mechani- 
 cal principles that are every year recorded in 
 the patent office, and the effects of which are 
 seen in every department of industry. The 
 religious and political assemblies ; the amu- 
 sing, instructive, and scientific addresses of 
 the lecture-room ; and the marvellous circu- 
 lation of the public press, all reflect that thirst 
 for knowledge which is a part of Yankee cu- 
 riosity. This, however, gives a still stronger 
 evidence of its vigor in the book trade, which, 
 in the United States, shows an extent of 
 sales that no other country can hope to ap- 
 proach. It is based on the universal ability 
 of the people to read, and on that " curi- 
 osity," or thirst for knowledge, which induces 
 them to do so, accompanied by means to 
 purchase books. The word "means" compre- 
 hends not only greater wealth on the part 
 of the purchaser, but reduced prices for the 
 books. The existence of 30,000,000 of 
 people who can all read, supposes an im- 
 mense market for books, that must be sup- 
 plied ; and happily busy intellects have writ- 
 ten, while (he mechanical processes of -pub 
 lishing have been developed in a marnne 
 
 to supply the demand. In order to compare 
 the book market of the United States with 
 that of Europe, we may refer to the census re- 
 turns of 1870. That informs us that in that 
 year there were 33,58G.'.I!S1I white persons in 
 he country. Of these, I (i.O0li,0ii<i were over 
 .'0 years of age, and of these, 1 ,< i3r),0< lO could 
 neither read nor write, of whom 42.),' 00 
 were aliens. We now turn to France, and 
 we find that there were lt>,000,00() persons 
 over 20 years of age ; and of these, o,700,- 
 iiOO only could read and write, and tlie re- 
 mainder, 13,300,000, could not. In other 
 words, there were, in the United States, 
 14,6r)0,0(IO readers of books, against 5,7('0,- 
 000 in France. But there were, also, in the 
 United States, 0,977. 1)',I3 person-; between 10 
 and 20. Of these, nearly G,OtiU,OL/0 were -+11 
 school, and, as a conseqiience, bought and 
 read school-books. The ratio of these scholars 
 to the whole number who can read ahd 
 write must be the same in France. Hence 
 there are, in fact, three times as many read- 
 ers in the United States as in France. 
 
 The making of books has kept pace with 
 the increasing demand for them. If we 
 look back to the library of King Alfred, we 
 find that he gave 8 hydes of land for a book 
 on cosmography, brought from Italy by 
 Bishop Biscop. At such rates, none but a 
 king could att'ord to buy a book ; but, on the 
 other hand, there were few, even among 
 nobles, who could read if they had them ! 
 There was no market, and no manufacture. 
 As the art of reading became so far progres- 
 sive that the old barons could sign their 
 names, instead of punching the seals of in- 
 struments with their sword pummels, some 
 little demand for books sprung up, but at 
 enormous rates. The state of the book 
 market, when literature began to dawn in 
 those iron ages, Scott makes old Douglas de- 
 scribe in terse phrase : — 
 
 " Thanks be to God ! no son of mine, 
 Save Gawain, e'er could pen a line." 
 
 A modern canvasser would not have gotten 
 
BOOK TRADE PUBLISHING JOBBING RETAILING. 
 
 263 
 
 his name in advance for numbers to be left. 
 Louis XL, of Franco, in 1471, was obliged 
 to give security and a responsible endorser 
 to the Paris faculty cf medicine, in order to 
 obtain the loan of the works of an Arabian 
 physician. The art of printing, which was 
 introduced into England in 1474, had an 
 important influence upon the production of 
 books, and this, probably, was the cause of 
 a greater spread of learning, that reacted upon 
 the demand. The Bible was the most com- 
 monly used, and these, in noble houses, with 
 heavy covers and clasps, were chained to 
 shelves and reading-desks. In the sixteenth 
 and seventeenth centuries, books were mostly 
 folio and quarto. But the dimensions of 
 books decreased as they became popularized, 
 and this was in proportion to the spread of 
 learning among ihc people. This went on 
 gradually, until both the market and supply 
 were considerable, up to the eighteenth cen- 
 tury. With the colonies of America — 
 among whom both religious and political 
 views were based upon general education — 
 schools became an institution, and in New 
 England the use of them an obligation. 
 From that time the market for books in- 
 creased with the numbers of the people. 
 The first bookseller mentioned is Hezekiah 
 Usher, of Boston, in 1G52 ; and his son, 
 John Usher, is mentioned by a writer in 
 1686, as very rich, and as having "got his 
 estate by bookselling." That books, in the 
 early part of the century, were by no means 
 abundant, or easy to be got at, is evident 
 from what Franklin tells us of the difficulties 
 he encountered, and the great advantage he 
 enjoyed, in having access to the library of a 
 merchant. The most of them were imported 
 at, no doubt, such expense as confined their 
 general use to the better classes. Some 
 years after, viz., in 1732, at the time Franklin 
 commenced the publication of " Poor Rich- 
 ard's Almanac," in Philadelphia, a Boston 
 bookseller advertised as follows : — 
 
 "Whereas it has been the common method 
 of the most curious merchants of Boston to 
 procure their books from London, this is to 
 acquaint those gentlemen that I, the said Fry, 
 will sell all sorts of account books, done after 
 the most acute manner, for 20 per cent, 
 cheaper than they can have them from 
 London. 
 
 " For the pleasing entertainment of the 
 polite parts of mankind, I have printed the 
 most beautiful poems of Mr. Stephen Duck, 
 the famous Wiltshire poet. It is a full 
 
 demonstration to me that the people of New 
 England have a fine taste for sjood sense and 
 polite learning, having already sold 1,200 of 
 those poems." 
 
 This was pretty well for Piichard Fry, and 
 we hope he had not then introduced the art 
 of magnifying his sales on paper. That 
 there were a number of booksellers then 
 doing well, is evident from the fact that Mr. 
 John Usher had made his fortune at it 50 
 years before; and in 1724 there was held a 
 convention cf Boston booksellers, to regulate 
 the trade, and raise the price of some de- 
 scriptions of books. The publication and 
 sale of books increased slowly, until the 
 events of the war began to excite the minds 
 of the public, and works on those subjects 
 were eagerl}' taken up. The practice was, to 
 some extent, to sell books in sheets, to be 
 bound as the purchaser might fancy — per- 
 haps to be uniform with his library. This 
 is now done only wliere the work is sold in 
 numbers by subscription. There was then 
 less capital in the trade, and few were dis- 
 posed to risk the amount required to get 
 out large works of a standard character. 
 The cost was then more than it now is, and 
 the time required much longer to complete 
 and dispose of it. There was then formed, 
 in ISO], the American company of booksell- 
 ers, and these generally subscribed together 
 in the publication of a work, to guarantee 
 the outlav. There was a sort of union, that 
 regulated the principles of publication, and 
 those who did not conform to these regula- 
 tions were repudiated. School-books were, 
 as a matter of course, as having the largest 
 and steadiest market, the first that were ex- 
 tensively published. A type of this class of 
 books is Webster's Spelling-Book, which has 
 grown with the country in a remarkable 
 manner. In 1783, with the advent of the 
 peace, Mr. Noah Webster published his 
 American spelling-book. The work became 
 a manual for all schools, and its influence 
 has been immense, in giving uniformity to 
 the language throughout the whole country. 
 The " Yankee schoolmaster," who was raised 
 upon that book, has gone forth into every 
 section of the Union, spreading the fruits of 
 that seed of knowledge, as writes Fitz-Greene 
 Halleck :— 
 
 '' Wanderinpc througl\ tlie southern countries, teaching 
 The A, B, C, from Webster's spelling-book." 
 
 When it was first published, there were 
 3,000,000 people in the United States ; there 
 
2G4 
 
 BOOKS. 
 
 are now 39,000,000, and there have been 
 sold 54,000,000 copies of the work, or five 
 for every four souls in the Union. The 
 Bpelling-booli was enlarged into a dictionary 
 in I806, and immediately Dr. Webster went 
 on with preparations for a still larger work. 
 This occupied him 20 years of unremitting 
 research, during which the sales of his spell- 
 ing-book su])ported his family; in 1828 the 
 dictionary appeared in two quarto volumes. 
 Twelve years after, viz., in 1840, a new edi- 
 tion made its appearance, greatly improved ; 
 and since Dr. Webster's death, there have 
 been two complete revisions of his great 
 dictionary, now known as Webster's Un- 
 abridged, viz., in 1847 and 1864, beside sev- 
 eral partial revisions, (jf this Unabridged 
 Dictionary, now a ponderous quarto of 1,840 
 pages, about 3.')0,0u0 copies have been sold, 
 and a va-tly greater number of the smaller 
 dictionaries, ot which there are seven of dif- 
 ferent sizes. The sales of the spelling-book 
 are now about 1,500,000 copies annually. 
 These works have exerted a powerful in- 
 fluence in giving uniformity and precision 
 to the use of the language in all parts of the 
 country, and as a re ult, there are fewer 
 dialects here than in I'^ngland. 
 
 The publication of religious works was 
 greatly promoted by the societies formed, 
 particularly the Amcricmi Bible Society, 
 which was formed in 181(5; the Bible So- 
 ciety of Philadelphia in 18U8; one in Con- 
 necticut in 1809; and also one in Massachu- 
 setts. The American Society in New York 
 published, in its first year, 6,410 volumes, 
 mostly Bibles and Testaments. In 1871, 
 the issues were 1,19(3,797, and the whole 
 . number during 56 years, was 28,601,489 vol- 
 umes of the r>il)le. A good copy of the Bi- 
 ble is sold for 60 cents, and a cheaper edition 
 at 35 cents ; Testaments as low as 10 cents. 
 Contrast this with the Bible copied in 22 
 years by Alcuin for Cliarlemagne about 800, 
 and which was sold in modern times to the 
 British Museum for §3,750, and the prog- 
 ress we have made ajipears great. 
 
 The American Bible Union was organized 
 to 1850, and it has since issued 259,748,804 
 pages ol matter, including Bibles. The pub- 
 lications by other societies have been con- 
 siderable. 
 
 These societies were not a portion of the 
 regular book trade, which continued to be 
 mostly under the association, until the ap- 
 pearance of the Waverly Novels in 1820 to 
 
 1»30. 'Ihe competition to which the large 
 demand for these works gave rise, broke 
 d(jwn old arrangements of the trade. The 
 publishers thenceforth acted independently. 
 At the same time, the supply of desirable 
 books from abroad, upon which there was no 
 charge for copyright, was mucli increased ; 
 and as all the j)ublishers were upon the same 
 footing in respect to those books, the com- 
 petition extended only to the mechanical 
 ]iroeess, reducing its cost to the lowest rates. 
 The capitals of the publishing houses grad- 
 ually increased, but there was still great diffi- 
 culty in getting an American book printed. 
 Coojjer tells us, in the preface to his Pilot, 
 that so great was the difficulty he encoun- 
 tered in getting a printer to undertake it, that 
 he was obliged to write the last [lage of the 
 story first, and have it set up and paged, to 
 insure the extent to which the matter would 
 run. 
 
 The publication of books is a business 
 which has undergone many changes within 
 the pa?t hundred years. There has at all 
 times been a limited amount of publishing 
 of woks by American authors, partly be- 
 cause it was so much more jjrofitable to re- 
 print f jreign works on which there was no 
 co]iyrigbt, and which ha<l already S3me repu- 
 tation ; and partly because in the early 
 struggle for national existence among a new 
 and not homogeneous people there was not 
 the opportunity for that profound culture 
 ;uid leisurely study which could alone make 
 American works popular and successful to 
 the publisher. There were, of course, ex- 
 ceptions to this general rule; but for a long 
 period, publishers were shy of undertaking 
 a work whose author had not already at- 
 tained a reputation abroad. The great bulk 
 of publishing was therefore limited to the 
 reprinting of foreign works, sometimes with 
 introductions, appendices or notes added here, 
 but the reputation of the forei'jn aulbor was 
 the inducement to the pnljlication. Jlatlers 
 have changed in this respect, and American 
 copyright works now largely predominate 
 auKtng the publishers' issues. The reprints 
 in 1871 were nominally less than one-fifth, 
 though really probably al)out one-fourth of 
 the whole number of books published that 
 year. 
 
 For the first fifty or sixty years of our 
 national existence very few important origi- 
 nal works were published except by " sub- 
 scription;" the author or publisher issuing 
 
BOOKS. 
 
 2(!5 
 
 a prospectus describing the work and by so- 
 licitation in person or by letter, obtaining 
 a sufficient number of subscribers to war- 
 rant its publication. Usually a subscription 
 of from 1,200 to 2,000 was deemed sufficient 
 to guaranty the success of the work, and if 
 a larger number were printed tliey were dis- 
 posed of at auction or to chance purchasers. 
 There was, during the period of which we 
 are sp>'aking, no stereotyping ; that process 
 was then unknown, and all copies were 
 printed direct from the types, while in books 
 which required to be often reprinted, such 
 as I5il)les, Prayer and Psalm books, &c., the 
 type was kept standing, involving a very 
 heavy expense for the puldisher. Under 
 these circumstances there was little encour- 
 agement for the publisher to take any doubt- 
 ful risks, and it is not surprising that so late 
 as 1820 the whole number of books manu- 
 factured and published in a single year 
 throughout the whole country sliould not 
 have exceeded the value of $-.500,000, of 
 which school books formed nearly one-third. 
 Stereotyping, clectrotyping, and wood en- 
 graving have effi^'cted great changes in these 
 particulars, in the jniblishing trade. Jlon; 
 than S40,Oi)0,Oi)0 worth of books are now 
 issued in a single year. The large publish- 
 ing liouses employ a " reader " and some- 
 times more than one, whose business it is to 
 decide upon the merits of manuscripts of 
 fered for publication, as well as to exauiine 
 any foreign works which it may be thought 
 desirable to reprint. These " readers " of 
 course reject four or five manuscripts, and 
 sometimes more, for every one tbey recom- 
 mend ; sometimes deciding unwisely, as 
 when five or six of the ablest of thera de- 
 clinecl the manuscript of " Uncle Tom's 
 Cabin," in the belief that it would not sell ; 
 but generally with a judicious regard to the 
 interests of their employers. 
 
 If the book is accepted, the terms on 
 wliich it shall be published are next to be 
 considered. The publishing house may re- 
 quire the author to share tlie risk with them, 
 by furnishing tlie cost of stereotyping, or 
 possibly of mmuficturing a first edition, to 
 be reimbursed in whole or in part liy a ])er- 
 centage on the sales ; — a |)lan wliicli though 
 safe for the publisher, hardly leaves much 
 margin of profit for the author ; — they may 
 require the autlior to make over to tliem all 
 copyright till tiie cost of stereotyping is 
 made up, and thereafter, allow them five, 
 seven and one-half or ten per cent, on the 
 
 wholesale or retail price of the book, as 
 they can agree ; or if they are confident of 
 the success of the work they may ]iay ten 
 per cent., or in the case of a popular author 
 even more on the selling price of all copies 
 sold. There is the greatest possible diver- 
 sity in these copyriglit contracts. In some 
 instances the publisher pays a fixed sum, 
 and then holds the copyright, taking his 
 risk of reimbursement from the sales. This 
 is generally the method pur-ued by the sub- 
 scription-book publishers, of whom we shall 
 say more by and by. If they pay copy- 
 right at all, they usually pay not more than 
 from three to five per cent, on tiie retail price, 
 though from the greater extent of tlieir sales, 
 this pa3's the author much better tlian the 
 large percentage of the "regular trade." 
 Sometimes, again, a publisher has a work 
 prepared, employing several writers and pay- 
 ing them so much a page for their labor. 
 
 Whichever of these plans may be adopted, 
 the manuscri^ji is handed over to the printer 
 to be set up. The '' composition," or netting 
 up th3 types, is conducted with more or less 
 expedition according to the character of the 
 matter. Wlien sot up, proofs are taken — 
 usually called "galley proofs," because they 
 are imiiressions from the matter which is 
 set up the width of the page or coluum, and 
 of indefinite length, technically called " gal- 
 leys." The proofs are carefully read by 
 a professional proof-reader, and usually also 
 by the author, after a first revision, and 
 when corrected, tlie matter is made up into 
 pages with the requisite running titles and 
 liaging, and if any large sale is expected, the 
 pages are either stereotyped or electrotyped. 
 The plates, as these stereotypes or electrotypes 
 are called, are next sent to the press-room, 
 where ])aper of the proper size having been 
 provided and prepared, the book is printed 
 and goes to the binder, who, having folded, 
 stitched, covered, stamped, and gilded it, de- 
 livers it at the publisher's warehouse, ready 
 for market. If it is illustrated, the engra- 
 vings are generally made while the work is 
 going through the press. They considerably 
 enhance the cost, but add also to the sala- 
 bleness of the work. At the time of put- 
 ting the book on the market from one hun- 
 dred to three hundred and fifty cojiies are 
 sent to the members of the ]iress, and two 
 copies are sent to the Librarian of Congress, 
 wlio is ex-njficio the Register of copyrights. 
 A considerable, often a large, sum is expen- 
 ded in advertising the book. Most of the 
 
2G6 
 
 BOOKS. 
 
 larger publishers have one or more periodi- 
 cals of their own, of large circulation, iu 
 which a part of their advertising is done, 
 but all pay heavy tribute to the great dai- 
 lies and weeklies also. The leading publi- 
 cations have what are called " standing or- 
 ders" from tlieir correspondents all over the 
 Union, fur so many copies of every ICmo 
 or I'Imo book, or a smaller quantity of 
 every 8vo volume which they publish, im- 
 mediately on its publication. These stand- 
 ing orders are, in many cases, sulficient to 
 insure them against loss in whatever they 
 publish, and thus make all further sales 
 largely profitable. A few years ago books 
 were sent out on commission, to be returned 
 if not sold, but this was attended with so 
 much loss, that it has now been given up ex- 
 cept in a few instances, in school books. 
 
 The school book trade, though sometimes 
 carried on by publishei's who are also iu the 
 general trade, is becoming more and more 
 distinctive in its character every j-ear. The 
 method of publication and of putting the 
 books on the market differs materially fi-om 
 that of miscellaneous books. Tliey are 
 usually published in series, of Headers, Arith- 
 metics, Geographies, and other text-books, 
 the authors receiving but a small percentage 
 on each book, but their immense sales mak- 
 ing this very proiitable. They are intro- 
 duced into schools, or ajiproved and ordered 
 by Boards of Kducation, or School Superin- 
 tendents, on the urgent solicitation of agents, 
 and often a'ter a long and exciting contest, 
 and are furnished usually at first at a very 
 low price for introduction. The sales arc 
 enormous, constituting fully one-half the ag- 
 gregate sales of books in the United States. 
 Another distinct branch of the publishing 
 trade is the " subscription book business." 
 Books are not now subscribed for, to insure 
 the publisher against loss in their manufac- 
 ture, as they were fifty or sixty _years ago, 
 but the business of publishing books, to be 
 sold only by subscription, has attained a 
 great magnitude. A book published for sale 
 by booksellers, is duly announced, advertisid 
 and exposed upon the counters of the book- 
 sellers, usually has its run of six months or 
 80, sells to the extent of 2,000, 3,000, or 
 5,000 copies, rarely more, and sometimes not 
 over 1,000 or l,.iOO, .and then usually be- 
 comes an old book not often incjuired for. 
 The subscription book, on the other hand, 
 is not intended for the book stores, and is 
 
 not usually found there. It is generally an 
 octavo volume, largely illustrated and selling 
 at from two and a half to five or six dollars, 
 cheaper books not proving so successful. It 
 is well known by those familiar with the 
 business, that this is the only way by which 
 large and expensively illustrated books can 
 be made to pay. 'I'he most valuable works 
 in this country and England are sold in this 
 way ; while the expense of selling is greater, 
 the sales are so much larger, that not more 
 than a tenth part as much for original out- 
 lay lias to be added to the price — tlie pub- 
 lisher selling so many more, roceives a much 
 Ics-! percentage. This explains why books 
 can be, and are delivered at the In nies of 
 the piircliasers, all over the country, cheapeh 
 than over the counters of book stores. The 
 net profit per volume to subscription pub- 
 lishers is very small. On most books a sale 
 of 10,0'J0 copies would not pay for the 
 trouble and expense, — the cost of engrav- 
 ing being enormous — one of 50,000 even 
 is but moderate, while sales of a hundred 
 thousand or more, which are not uncommon, 
 })ay very handsomely. We might give many 
 instances of enormous sales of these books. 
 (iocMlrich's Univer.-al Traveller, one of the 
 eailicst of this class, sold largely. The Cot- 
 tage Bible iii two volumes, over 200,000 
 sets. Of the histories of the late war, four 
 considerably exceeded one hundred thousand 
 copies each — one reaching 175,0(i0 — Kitto's 
 History of the Bible, 200,iiOO ; Iiich.ardson's 
 "Field, Dungeon and Escape," 80,000, 
 :ind his " Beyond the Mississippi," 100,000 ; 
 Stephens' " War Between the States, " 
 62,1)00 ; " Life and Death in Rebel Pris- 
 ons," 95,000 ; "Smith's Bible Dictionary," 
 1 vol.. Royal 8vo, 150,000 ; Matthew Hale 
 Smith's " Sunshine and Shadow," 100,000; 
 Raymond's Life of Lincoln, 70,000 ; Rev. 
 Dr. ]\Iarch"s " Night Scenes of the Bible," 
 over 10<),000 ; one edition of Fleetwood's 
 " Life of Christ," (ihere are five or six in 
 the market) 150,000 ; " Bunyan's Pilgrim's 
 Proijress," one edition, 110,000; JMark 
 Twain's "Innocents Abroad," 100,000; 
 "Roughing It," 100,000. 
 
 Subscription book publishers have been 
 accused of foisting worthless books upon 
 the market, but a fair examination will show 
 that, in proportion to the number of differ- 
 ent books piddished, the percentage of 
 worthless ones is far less than of those ])ub- 
 lished by the regular trade ; and very many 
 
BOOKS. 
 
 267 
 
 of their books are reaily of the highest 
 character. 
 
 The practice of sellins; subscription books 
 by numbers, once greatly in vogue, is now 
 confinoil to a few liouses, mostly English. 
 Some of these have been very successful, 
 but the gre Iter part have .abandoned it in 
 consequence of the dissatisfacti jn wliicli it 
 occasioned. The numbers will sometimes 
 far exceed what was auiiouuced, to complete 
 the work ; they are delivered at uncertain 
 times, and when completed the cost is usu- 
 ally mich greati'r than the subscriber had 
 expeesed. If tiiey are all preserved they 
 have still to be bound at a heavy expense. It 
 not uiitVeiiuently iiappens that the subscribers 
 drop off so fast from disappointment and 
 dissatisfaction that the publisher is compelled 
 to abandon the work unfinished. 
 
 There are other subdivisions of the book- 
 trade, such as publishers of Medical books, 
 Law books, Military and Scientific books, 
 Masonic books, and Religious books, which 
 are again divided into Sunday Scliool books, 
 and Theological works. 
 
 About 1 ^oO, a system of semi-annual 
 trade sales was inaugurated, for the purpo e 
 of dillusiiig more widely the publications of 
 the publishing houses and bringing buyers 
 and sellers into more frerjU'-nt contact. 
 These sales, though greatly modified from 
 their first pl:in, are still maintained, but 
 with the abundant facilities for transporta- 
 tion and transmitting orders, have mostly 
 outlived their usefulness, and many of the 
 leading pul)lishers do not now contribute to 
 tliem. The number of publishers in the 
 United States is nearly four hundred, but of 
 those extensively engaged in the business 
 the number is less than one hundred. 
 
 Tlie sale of old or secoiid-h:ind books is 
 also a very extensive branch of business in 
 the great cities. It is obvious, that where 
 book-buying and book-reading are so preva- 
 lent, as is the case among almost all classes 
 of the people in the United States, there 
 must exist a larije number both of public and 
 private libraries, and that these, through 
 death, and the continual vicissitudes tliat 
 attend families, are being constantly broken 
 up. If eveiy family has a library of greater 
 or less magnitude, sooner or later th<re is a 
 sale, and it generally comes to the hammer 
 in one or more of the large book auctions 
 that are held almost nightly. These auctions 
 are attended by the public, but mostly by 
 
 the second-hand booksellers. Of these there 
 are numbers in those parts of the city fre- 
 quented most by strangers. They are the 
 same as the "bookstalls," so familiar a 
 feature in the literature of England and the 
 countries of western Europe, as they are ia 
 fact a necessity everywhere. In New York, 
 the stall-keeper generally procures, for a 
 rent of $oO to $150 per annum, according 
 to circumstances, the privilege of putting np 
 a set of shelves against the outside of some 
 store corner. These shelves shut up at 
 night, like a large window, and the shutters 
 are fastened by iron bars that have padlocks. 
 These shelves contain a small stock, from 
 $300 to $400 value, of the most saleable 
 books that can be picked up chea]) at the 
 auctions of books, or of household furniture 
 of fiiniilies breaking up, or purchased of 
 needy persons who offer them. It follows 
 that the stalls, or stands, become the re- 
 ceptacles of all old books, and somi'times 
 very rare and valuable ones that have gone 
 out of print, and can be found nowhere else. 
 A great many valuable foreign books are 
 found here, having been disposed of by 
 inunigrants who become necessitous. A 
 large number of books are sold from these 
 stiills, which also keep much of the current 
 new literature. The keepers — some of them 
 — soon become possessed of sufficient cap- 
 ital to open whole stores ; and tln-re are 
 now in New York, and most cit es some 
 very large stores that have rare collections 
 of old books. This business has al-o ex- 
 tended across the water, so that persons of 
 more scholarly tastes have, through these 
 agencies, access to the reservoirs of old 
 books to be found in the cities of Europe. 
 
 In the period from 1848 to 18o7, works of 
 fiction, both from known and unknown au- 
 thors, had an immense sale. Mrs. H. B. 
 Stowe led the way in this matter, her "Uncle 
 Tom's Cabin " selling to tlie extent of 
 310,000 copies here, and nearly a million and 
 a half copies in England ; of " The Lamp- 
 lighter," by Miss Cummings, 90,000 copies 
 were sold ; of " Fern Leaves," 70,(.lO0 ; 
 "Alone," by " Marion Harland," over 51 ',000 ; 
 " Fashion and Famine," bv Mrs. Ann S. Ste- 
 phens, 30,000 ; " Wide, Wide World," and 
 " Queecliy," by Miss AVarner, nearly 100,000 
 each, etc., etc. 
 
 The circulation attained at times by ster- 
 ling and standard works is very large, as 
 follows : — 
 
2G8 
 
 BOOKS. 
 
 Irving's Works 1,100,001) copies. 
 
 Irvine's Sketch Book 98,u00 " 
 
 Longtellow's liiawatba, 43,000 " 
 
 Hugh Miller's Works, 50,000 " 
 
 Grace Aguilar's >\'orks, 157,^00 " 
 
 New Ant. Cyclopaedia, Dana & Ripley, Iti vols., 45,000 sets. 
 Benton^s Thirty Years' View, 2 vols., 8vo, 9S ,.000 copies. 
 
 Kane's Arctic Voyages, 2 vols., 8vo 65,000 " 
 
 Hariier's I'ictoriiii bible. §20, 25,000 " 
 
 Goodrich's History of all Nations, S7 30,000 " 
 
 Dana's IlousehoU Book of I'ootry, 75,000 " 
 
 Kane's Voyages paid $G5,000 copyright. 
 The sale of Prescott's Histories was very 
 large, giving, it is said, 50 cts. copyright. 
 Tlio sales of school books surpasses in quan- 
 tity those of all other books. 
 
 We have referred to the very large sales 
 of AVebster's Spelliug-Books and Dictiona- 
 ries. The aggregate of these to the clo,-e 
 of 1871 exceeds sixty millions of volumes. 
 For several years before Messrs. Cooledge 
 & Brother relinquished the business (in 
 ]8o7), their sales of Webster's Speller were 
 very nearly one million copies per annum. 
 Messrs. Appleton became the publishers in 
 1857, and thougli for several reasons their 
 sales have, a portion of the time, been smaller 
 than Cooledge's, yet their aggregate sales, to 
 the close of 1871, were 13,o'J0,0U0 cojiies, 
 and their present rate of issue is about 
 l.OSO.OOO per annum. This house have also 
 sold about two and a half millions of Cor- 
 nell's Geographies, and more than 1,000,000 
 copies of Quackenbos' Series of Text books. 
 They are also the publishers of the " New 
 Amerii-an," and the "Annual Cyclopaedia " 
 of which about 1.200,000 Super Royal 8vo 
 Volumes have been sold. They jiublish five 
 or six ]ieri()dicals, most of them of very large 
 circulation, and a Miscellaneous list second 
 in extent only to JMessrs. Harper & Bros. 
 
 Messr.-;. E. II. Butler & Co., of Pliila- 
 delphia, the present publishers of Mitchell's 
 Geographies, sell about 350,000 cojries an- 
 nually, and the aggregate sale in the thirty- 
 two years since their iiist publication has 
 been about 9,500,0ii0 copies. Smith's Gram- 
 mar, also ]iublished by this hou.se, sells at 
 the rate of 100,000 copies a year. Over 
 three milliinis of copies of it have been sold. 
 
 Messrs. Ivi-on, Pliiiiiiey, Blakeman & Co., 
 one of the largest houses in the .school-book 
 trade, sell annually of their Sanders' Read- 
 ers and Spellers over 1,000,000 copies, and 
 of their other textbooks aliout 4,0(l0.OU0 
 more. The Sanders' Spellers and Readers 
 had been sold up to the close of 1871 to the 
 extent of more than 2(i,000,0(»0 of copies ; 
 Robinson's Mathematics, 4,000,000 of copies; 
 Fasquelle's French, and Woodbury's Ger- 
 
 man Series, 500,000 copies ; Spencerian 
 Penmanship, 1,750,000 ; Swintou's History, 
 30,000 copies in six months. 
 
 Messrs. A. S. Barnes & Co , also largely 
 engaged in the school-book trade, have sold 
 in the agu;regato of Davies' Malhematical 
 works about 7,000,000 volumes, and are now 
 selling about 350,000 of them per annum. 
 Of Mrs. AVil'ard's Histories their total sale 
 has been about 350,01)0 ; of Clark's Gram- 
 mars, 800,000 ; of Parker & Watson's Se- 
 ries of Readers (completed 1S59) a total of 
 about 7,500,000, and an annual sale of about 
 700,000; Monteiih & McNally's Geogra- 
 phies, tot.al about 4,750,000 ; annua! sales 
 about 400,000. Steele's Fourteen Weeks 
 Series in Sciences, annual .sale of about 
 50,000. Of Cleveland's Compendiums and 
 Wood's Botanies, each a total sale of about 
 150,000. Their Teachers Library has sold 
 about 100,000 volumes. Their total annual 
 sales of the " National Scries " of text books 
 are about 4,000,000 volumes. 
 
 Messrs. Sargent, Wilson & Hinkle, of Cin- 
 cinnati, the publi-hers of MeGutt'ey's Read- 
 ers and the Eclectic Educational Series, sell 
 annually about 3,500,000 volumes of these 
 books. 
 
 Messrs. Sheldon & Co., publish Stoddard's 
 IMathematical series of which over 6,OoO,OoO 
 copies have been sold; Collon's Geogra- 
 ]ihies, over '2,000,000; Comstock's text-books 
 in Philosophy, Clicmistry, etc, 2,0oO,000 ; 
 Bullion's Series of Gramma s and Cla-sics, 
 whose sale has been very large, and Loss- 
 ing's School Histories, also very popular. 
 
 ftlessrs. Harper & Brothers have combined 
 with the largest list of Miscellaneous pub- 
 lications in the country a very extensive issue 
 of school textbooks, of all kinds, to which 
 they are constantly making .additions. They 
 also publish three of the most widely-circu- 
 lating periodicals in the United States. 
 They employ an active capital of about two 
 million dollars in stock and machinery, ex- 
 pending more than S8oO,000 |]er annum for 
 paper alone. They run over fifty power 
 presses, tliirty -five of them Adams' presses, 
 and many of them night and day. They 
 have published 2,000 works, in over thirty- 
 live hundred volumes, about equally divided 
 between original works and reprints. Their 
 is-ui's of bouiitl books amount to more than 
 three and a half millions of volumes per an- 
 num. 
 
 Messrs. Lippincott & Co., of Philadelphia, 
 
BOOKS. 
 
 269 
 
 publish a large list of books, but their most 
 importaut business is the jobbing of books 
 to booksellers throughout the country. Their 
 business in favorable years amounts to from 
 five to nine millions of dollars. 
 
 Messrs. Cowperthwait & Co., and Messrs. 
 Claxton, Remscn & HafTelfinger are also 
 leading houses in the school-book and job- 
 bing trade. 
 
 The sale of music books is very large. 
 Sonic of the smaller music books for schools 
 and Sunday-Schools have sold to the extent 
 of moie than two millions of copies, and the 
 " Carmina Sacra," a popular collection of 
 church music, has had a sale of over 500,- 
 000 copies. JNIessrs. O. Ditson & Co., of 
 Boston, and C. II. Ditson & Co., Bigelow 
 & Main, T. E. Perkins, F. J. Huntington 
 & Co., Philip Phillips, A. S. Barnes & Co.. 
 Horace Waters, and W. A. Pond & Co , of 
 New York, Root & Cady of Chicago, E. H. 
 Butler & Co., and Lee & Walker of Phila- 
 delpliia are the largest music book publish- 
 ers. 
 
 The publication of agricultural books has 
 been made a specialty by one or two houses, 
 and one of these, Slessrs. Orange Judd & 
 Co., who are also the publishers of the agri- 
 
 1S20. 1830. 
 
 School Books, S75l),000 l,lilu,090 
 
 Classicil Text- Books 250,000 350,00) 
 
 Theological and Religious 1 V),OjO 250,mOO 
 
 Law, 200,000 300,000 
 
 Medical 150.000 200,000 
 
 AUothers, l,O:W,00D 1.3)0,000 
 
 2,o.-U,000 3,500,000 
 
 A i>art of this great increase from 1860 1 
 to 1870 is due to the enhanced price of 
 books since the war, but the greater part is 
 the result of the new impulse given to edu- 
 cation and intelligence in the nation. More 
 than thirty millions of our people are read- 
 ers and require books as regularly as they 
 require food. It is computed that nearly 
 two millions of the Freedmen have learned 
 to read since 1803. The establishment of 
 an efficient public school system in nearly 
 
 seU 
 
 cultural paper of largest circulation, 
 very large quantities. 
 
 Tlie following table gives the number of 
 works of the ditfereut classes specilied, pub- 
 lished in each year or period mentioned : 
 
 Jan.,15-G, 
 to Mar., 
 
 1855. 1853. 1365. 1S71. 
 
 Works. Works. Works. Works. 
 
 Educational, 133 748 C7 288 
 
 Natural History, Agricul- 
 ture and Science, C5 160 189 327 
 
 Kiograph.v, 121 213 150 lU 
 
 Kssavs, I'oetrv, and Fiction, 776 1,007 4j5 629 
 
 Theology and Iteliglon, 031 642 12D 383 
 
 History 70 231 llll 93 
 
 Juveniles, 92 117 312 803 
 
 Music and Fine Arts, 42 I'A 37 145 
 
 Vovaires and Travels, 3 157 25 117 
 
 Medicine and Law, 29 133 65 312 
 
 Drama, 29 23 .. 13 
 
 'lassies, 13 61 10 67 
 
 Mechanical Sciences, 23 80 42 48 
 
 Miscellaneous, 94 290 113 
 
 2,102 4,8Sii 1,812 3,'-".i7 
 
 Of which were; Reprints,.. 049 1,492 276 622 
 
 Mr. S. G. Goodrich (Peter Parley), in his 
 '■ Recollections of a Life-time," gave a table 
 of the value of books manufactured and sold 
 at ditfereut periods in the United States. 
 ^Ve adtl to that table an estimate of the 
 values of each class of books sold in 1870, 
 based upon the census returns for tliat year : 
 
 1340. IS.jO. IS.-.S. 1S-.0. 1870. 
 
 2,1100,000 5,5OO,0.')0 7fl)'>,'.m 10,ljj,000 20.3)i,ij00 
 
 55'1,000 1,000,000 1,000,000 2,000,000 3,100,0(X) 
 
 300.000 500.000 OJIi.OUO 1,0011,11110 4,13 1,0 '0 
 
 400.001 700,010 800,000 9011,1)110 l,200,ii00 
 250,000 400,1100 5.50,000 700,000 050,000 
 
 2,0011,000 4.400,000 4,900,010 6,o'i0,000 10.700,000 
 
 5,500,000 12,500,000 16,000.000 21,200,000 40,700,000 
 
 every State in the Union, the organization 
 of a Nalional Bureau of education, the Pea- 
 body Educational Fund, the establishment 
 of schools of all grades for the Freedmen 
 and their children, and the liberal endow- 
 ment of so many instituiious of higher edu- 
 cation have all tended to make the decade 
 from 186l) to 1870 one remarkable for in- 
 tellectual progress, and hence of necessity 
 an era favorable to the wide diffusion of 
 literature. 
 
 PENS. 
 
 The use of some implement for writing 
 was a necessity immediately on the reduc- 
 tion of the first language to writing, and 
 very various are the instruments which have 
 baea used for this purpose as, indeed, it was 
 
 necessary they should be, from the great v.i- 
 riety of materials on which the writing wa-s 
 to be inscribed. The rock inscrijitions found 
 in the Caucasus, in Arabia, in Petra. in Egypt, 
 in India, Burmah, Siam, and China and else- 
 
270 
 
 PliNS. 
 
 where, must have been engraved by pointed 
 iustruineuts of the hardest steel ; the iuscrip- 
 tiuiis on the suiter limestones, steatites or 
 taleose slates of Assyria and Babylon were 
 obviously made witii a sharp cutting instru- 
 ment, and tlie arrow-headed writing on their 
 bricks was impressed with a punch or die. 
 The tablets of lead, copper, or soft brass, 
 required a steel pointed stylus. The waxen 
 tablets required a stylus of ivory or bone, 
 with a flat blade for making necessary era- 
 sures, and when parchment and paper was 
 used fur writing purposes, the sharp pointed 
 stick, or later the reud pen was emiiloyed to 
 inscribe upon these surftices the matters 
 which needed to be written. The Chinese 
 used and still use, a Camel's hair pencil 
 charged witli the semi-liquid paste, known 
 as India Ink. for the same purpose. The 
 leaves of various species of palm are still 
 used in the East for writing, and a pointed 
 stick and the juice of some berries serve for 
 pen and ink. With the introduction of pa- 
 per into Eastern Europe in the seventh and 
 eighth centuries, came the employment of 
 the gray goose quill which for a thousand 
 years and more, was the implement for wri- 
 ters and scribblers of all sorts. Yet there 
 were serious objections to the quill pen. Its 
 point was only hard before it had been long 
 soaked in ink, and it was far from being 
 pei'uianent. It is said, indeed, that Dr. John 
 Gill, the famous commenlator and theologian, 
 wrote all his thirly or turty ponderous folios 
 with one quill pen, anil that an old one when 
 he began ; but it does not surprise us to be 
 told by the same authority, that the printer 
 of his works complained that he had been 
 made blind by the effort to decipher Dr. 
 Gill's manuscript. It resulted from this in- 
 equality and rapid deterioration of quill 
 pens that when the inventive genius of mod- 
 ern nations was aroused, one of the first 
 thing-! in which improvement was sought 
 was the implement of the ready writer. 
 The points required for a good pen were a 
 firm, indestructible |)oint, great flexibility, 
 nou-coiTosion of either pen or point, capacity 
 to retain a sufficient quantity of ink to pre- 
 vent the neces-iity of constant repleni.shing, 
 and adaptability to the various tastes of wri- 
 ters. Jletals .seemed to possess most of these 
 qualities, but the early experiments with 
 them proved failures. 
 
 As early as 1803, attempts were made in 
 Great Britain to make pens of steel. They 
 had but a single slit, and were poor afTairs, 
 
 though quite costly. Silver was tried with 
 a little better success, but the points were 
 too soft and the pen bent very easily. It 
 was, moreover, too costly for general use. 
 The improvements in steel pens made by 
 jMason, Gillott, Perry, Levy, and other man- 
 ufacturers between 1820 and 1830 and since 
 that time, have rendered these useful little 
 articles of great service to the world. By 
 the use of machinery and the division of 
 labor, their jiroduction was so greatly cheap- 
 ened that they were put within the reach of 
 all. In Fiirmingham, England alone, nearly 
 1.500 millions of steel jjeus are annually 
 made. Large numbers are also manufactured 
 on the continent of Europe. Many attempts 
 have been made to manufacture sieel pens 
 in the United States, but without great suc- 
 cess. One or two manufacturers have, how- 
 ever, per.-evered in spite of all opposition 
 and discouragements, and have succeeded in 
 producing by the aid of machinery, a good 
 pen at a fair price. The Washington Me- 
 dallion pen has attained such a reputation 
 as to be largely counterfeited in Germany 
 and England. But the steel pen, po.pular 
 and cheap as it has been and still is, does 
 not answer all the requirements of a good 
 pen. It is in its best estate wanting some- 
 what in the pliancy of the quill ; it deterior- 
 ates rapidly on use. .so that the handwriting 
 can never be preci.-ely the s.ame on two suc- 
 cessive days, and it soon corrodes and be- 
 comes entirely worthless. Permaucmy and 
 uniformity in execution are the indispensa- 
 ble requisites for a perfect pen. 
 
 It is not surprising then that attention 
 sliould early have been turned to gold as 
 most likely to fulfil these requisites. The 
 first attempts were like those in steel, fail- 
 ures. The first gold pens were made by 
 John Isaac Hawkins, an American residing 
 in England, about 1825. Mordan, the Eng- 
 lish pencil case maker, also attempted to 
 make them not long afti r, liut his jjcns were 
 inelastic and poorer than Hawkins'. The 
 use of iridium and osmium points to these 
 pens is due to Mr. Hawkins, who soldered 
 them on to the points of the petis he made. 
 Rev. Mr. C'leveland, an American clergy- 
 man, visiting Enghiiul, purchased of Haw- 
 kins his right to make gold pens in 1835, 
 and on his return induced Levi Brown, a 
 watehm.aker in Detroit, to undertake their 
 manufacture. At first Brown met with lit- 
 tle success, but in 1840, he removed to New 
 York and there the business grew in im- 
 
BOOK-BINDING. 
 
 271 
 
 portaiice. The pens made were, however, 
 very unsatisfactory, and would be now con- 
 sidered worthless except for old gold. About 
 18 U, Mr. John liendell, an employe of 
 Brown, commenced makin:; miehinery for 
 the mmufaLiture of peas, which up to that 
 time had been made almost entirely by 
 hand. A. G. Bagley and a Ms. Barney, Mr. 
 Leroy W. Fairchild, Mr. Spencer and Mr. 
 Dixon, both of whom were subsequntly asso- 
 ciated with M;. lljnlall, engage! in the 
 manufacture between this periol and 185 >, 
 and soon after several otherj commenced 
 operations in a smill way. Very many in- 
 ferior pens were thrown upon ths market, 
 but thoie mide by the machinery of Ren- 
 dell, improved by Fairchild, had a very good 
 reputation. One of Fairchild's improve- 
 ments consisted in bedding ths iridium points 
 in the g)ld instead of soldering them a? had 
 been done at first. In ISofl, there were in 
 the Unite 1 Si vtes thirteen gold pel factories, 
 eight of which were in New York, and one 
 in Brooklyn. There were also two in Con 
 necticiit, one in Massachusetts and one in 
 Cincinnati. Five or six of these made pens 
 of very fair quality, the rest produced only 
 inferior good?, and most of them wortliless 
 trash. 
 
 In 18.51, Alexander Mort in, who had pre- 
 viously been in the employ of Mr. Bagli'y, 
 commenced the iminufacture of gold pens 
 on his own account in New York City, and 
 very soon by his inventions for tempering 
 and finishing them wiih perfect uniformity, 
 took the position which he and his successors 
 have maintained to this day. For the first 
 time in the history of the munufacnire, gold 
 
 pen making was reduced to an exact science. 
 Previously even the best makers could not 
 duplicate a pen. Its exact temper and elas- 
 ticity, and its perfect writing qualities were 
 beyond their control, and hence theseleciion 
 of a pen was a matter which must be at- 
 tended to in person. Mr. Morton brought 
 his machinery to such perfection, and was 
 so exact and thorough in every department 
 of the manufacture, that he could at once 
 decide by a glance at the handwritiii j; of a 
 customer what grade of pen would best suit 
 him, and introduced the practice of filling 
 individual orders by mail, and in the tea 
 years, 1860-1870, forwarded some milliona 
 of pens in that way. There arc now a .Ciy 
 considerable number of manufacturers of 
 gold pens in this country, some of them for- 
 merly em|)loye3 of Mr. Morton, but while 
 some of them make very gooil pens, there is 
 lio uniformity about their manufacture, and 
 most of them lack that permtment tem|ier 
 and elasticity which are the result of Mr. 
 Morton's processes. This peculiar excellence 
 of Morton's pens has been recognizeil by 
 English bankers and clerks, atnong whom 
 these pens have the hicrliest reputation. AVe 
 desire to be understood in re.rard to this 
 matter. The oth -r pen manufacturers may, 
 and we presume do, make occasiotiallj-, j)eiis 
 as good as those made by the Morton pro- 
 cess, but they cannot do it uniformly by any 
 other niithod. We have no means of know- 
 ing what has been the comparative success 
 of the different manufacturers, nor is it a 
 matter of any consequence in this work. It 
 is only the perfection of the product which 
 concerns us. 
 
 BOOK-BINDING. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 B00K-BINDIN(5. 
 
 The binding of books is an art probably 
 older than the art of book printing itself, 
 since there existed a necessity for confining 
 the manuscripts and scrolls that were the 
 medium of preserving thought in ancient 
 days. Even that was a progress, however ; 
 since the slabs of stone that bore the divine 
 
 commandments could not Lave needed bind- 
 ing, nor could the rocks and bricks, on which 
 the Babylonians traced their ideas, have well 
 been bound. The different modes of con- 
 veying and preserving ideas, that were adopt- 
 ed in different .nges and nations, caused re- 
 course to be had to almost all materials ac- 
 cording to exigencies, and these were pre- 
 served according to the exigency. 
 
 The books of wood, or metal, were bound 
 
2V-2 
 
 BOOK-BINDING. 
 
 by fiistening tlie sheets of whicli they were 
 composed at the backs by hinges. When 
 parcliment and paper succeeded, the backs 
 of the sheets were sewed together, and the 
 covcrhig varied as tlie arts progressed and 
 materials were adopted. The art itself has 
 made material progress only of recent years. 
 It came to be a separate art only when the 
 discovery of printing, by multiplying books, 
 made the binding of them too laborious fur 
 those who did it when years were sjiont in 
 copying one book. In 778, Alcuin, a monk, 
 native of England, commenced to copy the 
 Bible, and finished it 800, for the Emperor 
 Charlemagne. When twenty-two years was 
 required to make one copy, there was not 
 much business for the binder, whose labors 
 commenced with those of the printing press. 
 Wliile books were still comparatively dear, 
 the binding bore a small proportion to tlie 
 cost. Of late years, the tendency has been 
 toward neatness and durability. The req- 
 uisites of a well-bound book are solidity, 
 elasticity, and elegance. Among the nations 
 of Europe, the French take tlic lead in ar- 
 tistic taste, but the English excel in the ex- 
 pensive finish of the more costlv editions. 
 In the United States, machinery is employed, 
 more than elsewhere, to attain the desirable 
 result at less cost. 
 
 Books are printed upon paper of various 
 sizes, which formerly were three, called royal, 
 demy, and crown. The book took the size 
 indicated by the paper used. The demy 
 size was mostly used, and the sheets were 
 folded a greater or less number of times. 
 Thus, folded once in the middle, gives two 
 leaves, or four pages, and is called folio. 
 When the sheet is again filded, it gives four 
 leaves, or eight pages, and is called (juarto ; 
 folded again, the result is eight leaves, or 
 sixteen pagei, and is octavo. By folding 
 into twelve leaves, or twenty-four pages, we 
 make a duodecimo ; and if into eighteen 
 ]eaves, or thirty-six pages, it forms octo- 
 decimo. Of a size less than this, the books 
 arc pocket editions. The sizes of books thus 
 formed are generally designated as 4to, 8vo, 
 12nio, 18mo, 24nio, 32mo, 48mo, etc. The 
 size of the pritited page corresponds with the 
 size of this fold. Thus, the size of this 
 volume is royal octavo, being printed on 
 paper a size larger than demy, or ordinary 
 octavo. Each sheet of paper contains eight 
 leaves, or sixteen pages; and there are fifty 
 of these sheets in the book. Thus, the type 
 is composed of sixteen pages in one " form," 
 
 and one side of a double sheet receives the 
 impression of those sixteen pages by one 
 movement of the press, and then, being re- 
 versed, receives an impression on the other 
 side from the same tvpe. As the sheets leave 
 the press they are hung up to dry, when they 
 are placed under a hydraulic press of great 
 power. They are then counted out into 
 quires of twenty-four sheets each, and sent to 
 the binders. There, in the folding room, the 
 sheets are folded by girls. The object is to 
 fold down the pages, so as to fall one upon 
 the other with perfect accuracy, since upon 
 this the proper binding of the book depends. 
 The whole edition of sheets is folded with 
 great rapidity by one girl. Some of these 
 will fold 400 in an hour, but the average 
 may be 300. A folding machine has lately 
 been introduced, by which, it is said, two 
 girls will do as much as eighteen by hand. 
 Each sheet folded is a signature, and gen- 
 erally these are designated by some figure 
 at the bottom of the first page of each sheet. 
 The fohled sheets are laid in piles, in the 
 order of these signatures. The "gatherer" 
 then, with the right hand, takes them, one 
 by one, and places them in the left, until a 
 complete set, or full book, is collected. This 
 is performed so rapidly, that it is said an 
 active girl will gather 25,000 in a day. 
 After this, the sheets are " knocked up" 
 evenlj', and pressed in a hydraulic press; 
 but recentl}-, a machine has been introduced, 
 by which time is economized. The en- 
 graving, on another page, shows the figure 
 of that by lloe <fc Company, which is the 
 favorite for embossing, as well as compress- 
 ing. The machine runs slower for smashing. 
 The size, 15 by 17, weighs half a ton, and is 
 sold at 8400. The book is now examined 
 by the collector, in order to detect any error 
 of arrangement in the signatures. The books 
 then go to the sawing machine, where, being 
 properly arranged, fine circular saws cut fine 
 indentations in the books, to admit as many 
 pieces of twine, to each of which each sheet 
 is sewed. This is performed by girls, at a 
 table appropriated for that purpose. When 
 the sewing is complete, the "endpapers" 
 are pasted on the book. 
 
 The books next are trimmed by having 
 the edges cut by a machine. To eft'ect this 
 they are piled upon a platform, under a large 
 knife, which, being worked by a crank, 
 descends, like a guillotine, cutting a larg 
 number at once. The figure of the trimming 
 machine is given on another page. The 
 
PROCESS OF BOOK-BI\DING. 
 
 LAYIXO OX llnl.D LEAF. 
 
 emdos-jIxg press. 
 
sawim: machine. 
 
 lIMfelll.XL. iiOU.M. 
 
BOOK-BINDING. 
 
 273 
 
 knife used in this machine is 21 inches long, 
 and has a short, vibratory movement ; thus 
 combining the advantages of the long sta- 
 tionary knife with those of the ordinary 
 plough. The work to be trimmed is placed 
 against the adjustable guide on the bed of 
 the press, in front of the knife, and is com- 
 pressed by the wheel and screw. The table, 
 on which the press stands, is adjustable in 
 all directions, and is also self-acting, so that, 
 when thrown into gear, it rises to the re- 
 quired height and disengages itself — thus 
 preventing injury to the knife — and then 
 drops down to its original position. Three 
 sides of the work can be successively pre- 
 sented to the action of the knife, by simply 
 turning the press to the quarter and half- 
 turn stops. The machine can be worked 
 either b}- hand or steam power, and can be 
 easily adjusted to cut any size from 3 to 18 
 inches long, and from 1 to 16 inches wide. 
 This machine has been in operation some 
 twenty-five years. Tlie backs now receive 
 a coat of glue, to impart firmness. They 
 are then, by the "backing machine" — which 
 is an improvement of some ten years' stand- 
 ing — rounded on the back, and receive a 
 groove for the boards. Tliey are then cut 
 on the ends. A piece of muslin, nearly as 
 long as the book, and extending an inch 
 over the sides, is then pasted on, and the 
 book is ready to receive the boards, or cases. 
 These consist of mill-boards cut a little larger 
 than the book, and cloth cut large enough 
 to turn over all. The cloth is glued, and 
 one board is placed upon it. The corners 
 of the cloth are then cut, and the edges 
 turned down and rolled smooth. It is then 
 dressed, when it goes into the hands of the 
 stamper. The stamping, or embossing, is 
 done in a press, from dies previouslv pre- 
 pared. When the sides are lettered, the 
 letters are engraved in metal, and impressed 
 upon the cloth. Gold leaf is placed upon 
 the cloth, and the heat of the stamp causes 
 it to adhere in the desired places. The 
 book is then pasted on the sides, placed in 
 the covers, and pressed, when it is a book 
 bound in cloth. The stamping, or, as it is 
 sometimes called, the arming press, will per- 
 form, almost instantaneously, what formerly 
 would have required a week. This has been 
 brought about by a combination of the arts 
 — designing, die-sinking, and application of 
 machinery. When a particular design is 
 required upon a book, the artist draws it 
 
 upon paper ; it is then cut in brass, or .steel, 
 and this block in the press embosses a great 
 many covers at a blow. 
 
 With books bound in leather, the process 
 is not so expeditious. In order to insure 
 solidit}', the books were formerly beaten 
 upon a stone with a broad-faced hammer. 
 Thcj- are now squeezed between steel rollers, 
 to effect the same object. The engraving 
 of the rolling machine, in another column, 
 will give a good idea of the one that is now 
 used by bookbinders, in place of screw and 
 hydraulic presses, for pressing folded sheets. 
 The work is placed on an iron table in front 
 of the rollers, between plates of iron, paste- 
 board, or leather, and passed through the 
 machine as often as necessary. The adjust- 
 ing screws are geared together, so that the 
 rollers are always parallel to each other. It 
 is strongly geared, and may be run by cither 
 hand or steam power. The sewing is done 
 in a more substantial manner. The volume, 
 placed in the laying press, has its back liam- 
 mered very carefully, so as to spread the 
 sheets on each side of the boards without 
 wrinkling the inside, and the work proceeds 
 until it leaves the hands of the finisher a 
 perfect model. It opens easily, and lies flat 
 out without any strain, and its hino-es are 
 without crease. 
 
 In gilding the edges of a book, they are 
 scraped smooth and covered with a prepara- 
 tion of red chalk, as a groundwork for the 
 size, which is formed of one egg to half a 
 pint of water. The gold is laid on the size, 
 and then burnished with a bloodstone. 
 
 The embellishment of book covers is called 
 "tooling," and, when plain, blind tooling. 
 By this latter, sometimes glossy black in- 
 dentations are made to contrast tastefully 
 with the rich color of the morocco. This 
 is performed by wetting the morocco, and 
 applying the tool in a heated state. 
 
 There has been a method invented by 
 which the leaves of a book are fixed together 
 with India-rubber instead of sewing. The 
 sheets being cut evenly, receive a solution 
 of the material ; as each leaf is held only 
 by the rubber, the book is made to lie very 
 flat. This docs not appear to have come 
 into much favor. The fashion of imitating 
 antique styles of binding has led to the use 
 of wood instead of pasteboard, in some fancy 
 styles of costly books. It is only a passing 
 caprice, since wood cannot supplant the 
 pasteboard. 
 
WRITERS OF AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THEOLOGIANS— ST ATRSMEX— NOVELISTS 
 —HISTORIANS. 
 
 With the settlement of the coloTiies, there 
 were necessarily hut few attempts at literary 
 productions. The PiJLjrim Fathers hrouL(ht 
 with them many books from their native 
 land, but these were mostly bibles and theo- 
 logical works. They were persons whose 
 minds bore the stronc;est rclig'ioiis impres- 
 sions. In them the sentiment of piety ap- 
 proached austerity ; and they were not un- 
 frecjuently charged with fanaticism. The 
 time they had to devote to literature was 
 wholly absorbed in the perusal of those de- 
 votional works that sustained and ilhistrated 
 that faith wdiich they had made their rule 
 of action under all circumstances, and which 
 they lived up to with all the sternness of 
 their bold and decided characters. They 
 had encountered the perils of the wilder- 
 ness to rear free homes ; and they were de- 
 termined, also, to make them temples to the 
 Lord. It is not to be inferred that literature 
 and the finer arts of life were, even at that 
 remote period, f ireign to the people of the 
 country. The founders of all the colonies 
 were among tlie most elegant writers and 
 accomplished scholars of the time. Such 
 men as Raleigh, Baltimore, Penn, Ogle- 
 thorpe, Smith, Winthrop, and a crowd of 
 others, would have been ornaments to the 
 most brilliant circles of any country : with 
 them and tlieir successors, education and re- 
 ligion were the foremost objects of atten- 
 tion. But among men so busy with the 
 work in hand, as to declare "that the laws 
 of God should govern until they had time to 
 make others," much general literature could 
 not find cidtivation. Theological works were 
 the staple, and these were produced with an 
 independence of tliouglit and a vigor of ar- 
 gument which encliained their adherents and 
 astonished the opponents they had left at 
 home. As the laws of God were the models 
 
 of government, so were the inspired writers 
 the only guides for the faith of that stead- 
 fast people. Those original and strong 
 thinkers were also powerful and prolific 
 writers; and some of them won the first 
 place, in the estimation of the learned, as 
 theologians. Cotton Mather, who had no 
 equal as a scholar, wrote 382 works, of one 
 of which, " Essays to do Good," Dr. Frank- 
 lin remarks : " It perhaps gave me a tone of 
 thinking that had an influence upon some 
 of the principal future events of my life." 
 Thus was one of the most powerful minds 
 of the eighteenth, or, indeed, any century, 
 impressed with the vigorous style of a colo- 
 nial author. The simple missionary, Jona- 
 than Edwards, a large portii;>n of whose use- 
 ful life was spent on the confines of civiliza- 
 tion, produced works which, according to 
 Dr. Chalmers, a centurj' .afterward, stamped 
 him as " the greatest of theologians," and 
 called from Sir James Jilackintosh tlie remark 
 that, '" in power of subtle reasoning he w'as, 
 perhaps, unmatched among men." Mr. Ed- 
 wards succeeded to the presidency of the 
 New Jersey College, and died in 1758. He 
 was the type of the theological age of the 
 country. His work became the standard 
 of orthodoxy for enlightened Protestant Eu- 
 rope. That voice, w liich was indeed " one 
 crying in the wilderness," became tlie text- 
 book of the most learned divines of the old 
 world. 
 
 As the colonies advanced in wealth and 
 numbers, more diversified views naturally 
 sprung up, but tlie books of amusement and 
 instruction were mostly imported from Eng- 
 land. There was little in the rude struggle 
 with the wilderness to foster an independent 
 school of literature, which flourished much 
 better in England, wdiere existed all the re- 
 sources of libraries and information. That 
 bold and strong natural intellects, like that 
 of Dr. Fianklin, should grow up, was almost 
 a necessity of the vigorous race that pro- 
 duced him ; and his works were at once ap- 
 
THEOLOGIANS STATESMEN NOVELISTS HISTORIANS. 
 
 2l5 
 
 preciatcd, because they reflected the genius 
 of the people. The clear, strong sense of 
 " Poor Richard "struck a responsive chord 
 in ever}' heart, and there was little reason to 
 be surprised that the almanac reached a cir- 
 culation of 10,000 in 1705. The school 
 system that had been early established by 
 the colonists, laid a broad foundation for 
 future literature. To make all classes of 
 persons readers, was to create a demand for 
 books that must sooner or later be gratified ; 
 and writers and speakers were sure to find 
 the avenue to the public mind when the oc- 
 casion ottered. This presented itself when 
 the disputes with the mother country began 
 to take a serious form. Those events stirred 
 the depths of feeling in all ranks and classes, 
 and an army of orators rose into public 
 view at once, to fan the flames of discontent 
 into a conflagration that ultimateh' consumed 
 the loyalty of the colonists, and loft their 
 original sturdy independence of character to 
 assert itself in political separation. The 
 eloquence of Otis, of John Adams, Patrick 
 Henry, Sanmel Adams, of Pinckney, of Piut- 
 ledge, and others, live for us only in the ef- 
 fects they produced, and of which our insti- 
 tutions are the m.inifostati6n. Unhappily 
 there were then no means of reporting by 
 ■which those soul-stirring speeches could be 
 preserved, and we have but a few sketches 
 of Fisher Ames and Patrick Henry. While 
 those illustrious men roused the nation with 
 their voices, numbers aided with their pens; 
 among these, Thomas Paine's pamphlet, 
 " Common Sense," and his series of tracts 
 entitled "The Crisis," produced a marvellous 
 effect. The papers in themselves, at the pres- 
 ent da}', give no evidence of great ability, but 
 they were fitted to the epoch with extraordi- 
 nary aptness ; and tradition assures us that 
 each, on its appearance, produced a furore 
 difficult to conceive. The epoch was one of 
 intense excitement ; and those papers held up 
 clearly the dark side of kingcraft to a people 
 in whose minds republicanism was making 
 rapid growth. The pamphlets and papers 
 that circulated at that period were, some of 
 them, marked with great learning and power. 
 The correspondence then carried on among 
 public men, and which has since been col- 
 lected and given to the public, surpasses in 
 learning, political sagacity, grace of diction, 
 vigor of thought, and power of expression, 
 any thing of the kind that ever before ap- 
 peared in any country. We, that read those 
 papers by the light of seventy years of sub- 
 17* 
 
 sequent history, are better able to appreciate 
 j the extraordinary ability they evince. The 
 letters of Franklin, Jefferson, Jay, Adams, 
 Washington, Morris, and others, will, while 
 the nation lasts, be preserved as models of 
 literary excellence. The publication of the 
 " Federalist " was an era in political writing ; 
 the work was the joint production of Alexan- 
 der Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay. 
 The papers were signed " I'ublius," and their 
 object was to urge the importance of union 
 in the adoption of the constitution. The 
 statesmen of Europe regarded the work with 
 admiration ; and the Edinburgh Review re- 
 marked : " It exhibits an extent and pre- 
 cision of information, a profundity of re- 
 search, and an acuteness of understanding 
 which would have done honor to the most 
 illustrious statesmen of ancient or modern 
 times." In his work on "Democracy in 
 America," De Tocqueville remarks that " it 
 ought to be familiar to the statesmen of 
 every nation." If the reader of the present 
 day is struck with the clear-sighted sagacity 
 that the papers evince, how much greater 
 is our admiration when we reflect that those 
 statesmen were reared in our colonial state, 
 without any of that experience which has 
 shed its light upon us. The wisdom they 
 displayed was the result of their own pro- 
 found deliberation. The writings were an 
 interchange of views between a race of in- 
 tellectual giants who were giving birth to a 
 nation. The works of James Madison com- 
 prise fifteen octavo volumes of 600 pages 
 each, and are distinguished for sound- 
 ness of reasoning, and great sagacity. The 
 report of Hamilton, as secretary of the 
 treasury, on banks and manufactures, was of 
 great celebrity ; and, as far as it described 
 the existing state of affairs, was valuable. 
 It is to be borne in mind that he was one of 
 a race of Titans who were orjranizinff a na- 
 tion of a kind that never before existed ; and 
 if the views he advocated have not been 
 justified by the experience that the nation 
 has wrought out in the last seventy years, it 
 is not surprising ; nor can his great wisdom 
 be taxed on that account any more than the 
 vast ability of Patrick Henry be questioned 
 because he opposed the new constitution. 
 The writings of Jefferson, the statesman and 
 patriot, were of a nature more durable and 
 statesmanlike than the efl'usions of Hamilton, 
 which were more the products of a subor- 
 dinate executive officer than a directing 
 head. The pen which wrote the Declaration 
 
2V6 
 
 WRITERS OF AMERICA. 
 
 of Independence and the state papers, wrote, 
 also, the " Notes on Virginia," the autobiog- 
 raphy, correspondence, and Anas, included 
 in the four volumes of his works published 
 after his death by Mr. Randolph. Of the same 
 age as these eminent statesmen, was John Mar- 
 shall, the celebrated chief justice of the Uni- 
 ted States. Judge Marshall appeared as an 
 ''author in 180.5, when he published his "Life 
 of Washington." The introductory volume, 
 being a " History of the Colonies planted by 
 the English on the ( 'ontinent of North Amer- 
 ica," was published separately in 1824. In 
 1832 an abridgment of his " Life of Wash- 
 ington" appeared. Jlr. Marshall occupied the 
 posts of minister to France and secretary of 
 state, and his state papers commanded admi- 
 ration as of the very highest order. His ap- 
 pointment and career as chief justice seems to 
 have been one of those special providences 
 tliat have so often manifested themselves on 
 behalf of the United States as a nation. Tlie 
 powers of the Supreme Court are such as 
 were never before, by any people, confided to 
 a judicial tribunal. It determines, without 
 appeal, its own jurisdiction, and that of the 
 legislature and the executive. It is not mere- 
 ly the highest court in the whole country, but 
 the constitution of the country is in its hands. 
 This tribunal was to decide upon every 
 question that should arise under the new 
 constitution, in relation to all the rights and 
 powers of each department of government, 
 and also those of all the states. A want of 
 ability or of integrity upon the part of the 
 court, possessed of such power, might, 
 by vicious interpretation, have destroyed 
 the whole fair faliric that had been raised 
 with so nmch care and wisdom. This im- 
 mense responsibility devolved upon John 
 Marshall, and nolily did his great capacity 
 and sterling integrity meet the occasion. 
 During thirty -four years, that great man de- 
 cided every <|uestion that arose; and, so to 
 speak, fairly launched the constitution and 
 government upon the stream of time. 
 
 Cotemporary with Judge Marshall, upon 
 the supreme bench, was Joseph Story, who, 
 born in Massachusetts in 1779, was appoint- 
 ed in 1811, and held the office until his death 
 in 1845, a period of thirty-four years, during 
 twenty-four of which he was associated with 
 Judge Marshall, and displayed talents worthy 
 of such a colleague. His literary writinfs 
 were published in 1835, comprising sketches 
 of eminent men, and other papers. 
 
 The eminent statesmen >\ho have adorned 
 
 the literature of their country, have been 
 many. Henry A\ heaton, Esq., who was bom 
 in 1785, served the country in many capacities. 
 He published the most complete work on 
 international law, in 1835. John Quincy 
 Adams, one of the most remarkable men of 
 the country, was born in Braintree, July, 
 1 767, while his great-grandfather, who was 
 born in the reign of Charles II, yet lived. Mr. 
 Adams graduated at Harvard College in 
 1787, just 100 years after the birth of his 
 great-grandfather. He chose the law as a 
 profession, and began to write for publication 
 over the signature of " Publicola." He re- 
 plied to some portions of Paine's "Rights of 
 Man." Washington appointed him minister 
 to the Netherlands from 1794 to 1801. He 
 had, also, appointed him to Portugal, but 
 while on his way, his destination was 
 changed to Berlin by the accession of his 
 father to the presidential chair. While in 
 Berlin, Jlr. Adams became acquainted with 
 German literature. A scries of letters at 
 this period to his brother in Philadelphia, 
 was afterward published. They were of 
 high interest. Subsequently, he was a 
 member of the Massachusetts legislature, 
 and professor of oratory at Harvard P^niver- 
 sity. He was appointed minister to Russia 
 by President Madison. From thence he was 
 transferred to Ghent, to negotiate peace in 
 company with Messrs. Bayard, Clay, and 
 Gallatin. Afterward, he was appointed min- 
 ister to St. James. He was eight years in 
 the cabinet, and four years president. In 
 1831, he was sent to the House of Repre- 
 sentatives, where he remained until his 
 death, in 1848. He filled more of the high 
 offices of government, than any other man 
 in the country. The largest portion of his 
 published writings consists of orations and 
 miscellaneous discourses of a high charac- 
 ter. He gave to the world some essays 
 upon Shakspeare ; also, translations from 
 the German of Wieland. In 1832 he pub- 
 lished " Dermot Mac Morrogh ; ATale of the 
 Twelfth Century," with some shorter poems, 
 chiefly lyrical. All the writings of Mr. 
 Adams display the most mature scholarship, 
 but the statesman seems to have oversliad^ 
 owed the man, since it is probable that from 
 a less eminent person the}' would have been 
 more highly considered. 
 
 W^illiam Wirt was born in 1772, at P>la- 
 dcnsburg, Maryland, and became a lawyer 
 in 1792, in which profession he was emi- 
 nently successfuk in 1802, he wrote the 
 
THEOLOGIANS STATESMEN NOVELISTS HISTORIANS. 
 
 277 
 
 "British Spy," which had a great success. In 
 1807, he earned a great reputation by his 
 famous speech in favor of Blennerhasset. 
 lie produced many works before he gave to 
 the world his extraordinary "Life of Patrick 
 Henry" in 1817. That work lias an endur- 
 ing reputation. 
 
 Daniel Webster, that type of New England 
 intellect, was born in 178:3, in the same year 
 with Audubon, the great American naturalist, 
 lie was a New England farmer's son, of 
 Salisbury, N. 11., and pursued learning with 
 the indomitable energy of his race — teach- 
 ing school as he himself acquired learning — 
 forcing his way to notice, until he acquired 
 a world-wide reputation. His earliest liter- 
 ary performance was in 180C, wlien 24 years 
 of age, being a Fourth of July oration. He 
 was a contributor to the North American 
 Jicvicw, and his orations on different occa- 
 sions were eagerly read in every section of 
 the country. No speeches were more 
 fraught with wisdom and eloquence, or had 
 greater influence upon the public mind, 
 since, being models of their kind, many are 
 daily read in the public schools. He is so 
 thoroughly American, and so in earnest in his 
 expositions of the constitution, that his name, 
 to use his own expression, must ever have an 
 " odor of nationality." He speaks always to 
 the understanding, and always with effect. 
 
 In the same year in which Webster 
 was born. South Carolina gave birth to her 
 great statesman, John C. Calhoun. He was 
 born in Abbeville district, in March, 17S2. 
 He graduated at Yale College in 1804, 
 and began the study of law, in which he 
 attained great success. In 1809, he was 
 elected to the state legislature. In 1811, 
 he was elected to the House of Representa- 
 tives, immediately taking a foremost post, 
 until 1817, when lie became secretary of 
 war under Mr. Madison, and so continued 
 eiglit years. Subsequently, he was twice 
 elected vice-president, the last time in 
 1828. He soon resigned for the Senate, 
 where he continued until his death, in 1850. 
 Mr. Calhoun was one of the most extraor- 
 dinary men of the country, and one of 
 those whose works will live far into poster- 
 ity. His eloquence was of a most refined 
 cast, and distinguished for its compact rea- 
 soning. He was possessed of that quick- 
 ness of perception and subtleness of argu- 
 ment, wliich made Jonathan Edwards the 
 first of theologians. His works liave been 
 collected since his death, in six volumes. 
 
 Cotemporary with Webster and Calhoun, 
 were the great orators. Clay, Mangum, and 
 others, whose speeches belong to the stand- 
 ard literature of the country, but who have 
 not contributed to it directly by writing. 
 Thomas II. Benton, the great Missouri sena- 
 tor, was born in North Carolina in 1782, and 
 pursued the study of law. In his " Thirty 
 Years' View" of the American government, 
 he has contributed a work of great value to 
 the historical literature of the country. That 
 great work is not only a faithful record of 
 the political history of the country for the 
 thirty years, but the clear Saxon style in 
 which it is composed, gives it a charm sel- 
 dom found in similar productions. When 
 this work was completed, he commenced the 
 task of condensing, reviewing, and abridg- 
 ing the debates of Congress, from the foun- 
 dation of the government, which he lived to 
 bring down to the compromise measures of 
 1850. With a strong intellect and bold 
 character. Col. Benton was well calculated to 
 dominate in the w^estern states. In Mis- 
 souri, at one time, his power was boundless. 
 
 The brothers Everett have deservedly oc- 
 cupied a high place among the literary men 
 of the country. The elder, Alexander, was 
 born in 1790, in Boston. He graduated at 
 Harvard in 1806, and pursued the profes- 
 sion of law, but filled many offices of public 
 trust, being minister to China at the time of 
 his death, in 1847. During his life, his at- 
 tention was never long diverted from litera- 
 ture, and his writings were numerous in the 
 North American. Reviviv, of which his 
 brother, Edward, was editor, and elsewhere. 
 Edward Everett was born in 1794, and grad- 
 uated at Harvard in 1811. He began the 
 study of law, but adopted theology, and at 
 19 years was called to the Brattle street 
 church, Boston, to fill the vacancy caused 
 by the death of jMr. Buckminster, one of 
 the most remarkable orators of modern 
 times. He was soon after elected Greek 
 professor at Harvard. While filling that 
 office, he published some school books. 
 In 1820, he became the editor of the 
 North American Revietr, to which he large- 
 ly contributed. He became member of 
 Congress, and afterward governor of Massa- 
 chusetts. He was minister to England, 
 president of Harvard College, and United 
 States senator. Like his brother of opposite 
 politics, he has enjoyed a succession of offices, 
 and was, in 1860, the candidate of a large 
 party for the vice-presidency. When Lord 
 
278 
 
 WRITERS OF AMERICA. 
 
 Macaulay, from over occupation, declined to 
 add a memoir of Washinjfton to the many 
 brilliant biographical papers ho prepared for 
 the new edition of the "Encyclop:wlia Brit- 
 annica," he suggested to the publishers of 
 that work, that his friend Edward Everett 
 would be the very man to execute the task. 
 He prepared the paper, which was subse- 
 quently republished here. Mr. Everett died 
 in 186.5, ill the height of liis fame. 
 
 John P. Kennedy, was born in Balti- 
 more, Md., Oct. 25, 1795. He pursued the 
 law as a |irofcssion ; was a member of Con- 
 gress 1837-1), and 1841-5, and Secretary of 
 the Navy in 185"2. He was one of the most 
 genial and jjopular of writers. lie was, 
 perhaps, best known as the author of the 
 " Memoirs of William Wirt," iiubrshcd in 
 1819, a " Defence of the Whigs" 1841, 
 '•Horse Shoe Robinson," 1835, and " Rob of 
 the Bowl," published in 183H, followed by 
 "Annals of Quodlibet," in 18 10. His de- 
 lineations of nature were truthful, and his 
 character-drawing marked with great del- 
 icacy and freedom. He died in 1870. 
 
 Hugh S. Legare was born in South Cor- 
 olina, in 1797, and graduated at the South 
 Carolina College, following the law as a pro- 
 fession. He died in 1843. In 1820, he was 
 sent to the state legislature, and subsequently 
 was appointed attorney-general of the state, 
 was made charge d'affaires at Brussels, and 
 chosen to Congress in 1836. His contribu- 
 tions to the Ni'w York Jicniezv gave him a 
 high literary reputation. In 1846, a collec- 
 tion of his writings was published in 
 Charleston, establishing his high reputation 
 as of the first class of intellects. 
 
 There are a number of others of our states- 
 men and political men, who have contribu- 
 ted by their writings to the literary capital 
 of the country, but we have here selected 
 only the most prominent of them. 
 
 Of those who have m.ado literature a pro- 
 fession, Charles B. Brown seems to have 
 been the first. He was born in 1771, in 
 Philadelphia, and was of very early promise. 
 In New York, in 179.3, he was introduced to 
 a literary society, which numbered among its 
 members James Kent, afterward chancellor. 
 Dr. Mitchill, Dunlap, Bleecker, and others. 
 In 1797, he published a work on the rights 
 of women, which then found less favor than 
 some writers on the same subject have more 
 recently experienced. lie published, subse- 
 quently, a number of works that met with 
 no very great success. 
 
 A year younger than Daniel Webster 
 was Washington Irving, born in N. Y. City, 
 April 3, 1 78.'], die<l in 1 «.")9. Mr. Irving, " the 
 prince of story tellers," is the admitted leader 
 of American literature. 1 lis first publicaiions 
 were in 1802, over the signature of Jona- 
 than Oldstyle, Gent., in the Monihir/ Clironi- 
 clr, of which his brother was editor. In 
 1806, in connection with James K. Paul- 
 ding, ho began writing "Salmagundi." This 
 created a great sensation. It attacked, with 
 amusing ridicule, the ignorance, presumption, 
 and vulgarity of the British tourists, and sat- 
 irized pretenders at home and abroad in a 
 most effective manner. He soon after com- 
 menced the "History of New York, by Died- 
 rich Knickerbocker," which must ever remain 
 the finest monument of liis genius. He 
 was connected in business with his brothers, 
 and upon the failure of the firm, he was, 
 happily for the public, forced to depend up- 
 on literature for support. His next produc- 
 tion was the " Sketch Book," published in 
 New York and in London, in 1819-20. Its 
 success was great at home and abroad, fully 
 establishing the fame of the author. From 
 that date, his works appeared at pretty reg- 
 ular intervals, although he was absent from 
 the country seventeen years, up to 1832. 
 Soon after, he purchased the old mansion of 
 the Van Tassels, on the Hudson, near 
 "Sleepy Hollow." He then resumed his lit- 
 erary labors until his appointment as minis- 
 ter to Spain, in 1841. He returned, in 
 1846, to his residence, and remained there 
 until his death, still continuing, at times, to 
 add to the list of his productions, the last 
 of which was the "Life of Washington," 
 which has had a sale probably as extensive 
 as all the rest of his works, ;uid the aggre- 
 gate of which will exceed half a million vol- 
 umes. It may be said that he has been one 
 of the most successful of authors. 
 
 James K. Paulding, the colleague of Ir- 
 ving in " Salmagundi," was four years his sen- 
 ior, having been born in 1779, in the town 
 of Pawling, on the Hudson. Notwith- 
 standing the great success of " Salmaguntli," 
 the publisher refused to remunerate the 
 writers, and it was brought suddenly to a 
 close. In 1813, Jlr. Paulding published a 
 satirical poem, called " The Lay of a Scotch 
 Fiddle," and in 1816 the most humorous of 
 his satires, "The Diverting History of John 
 Bull and Brother Jonathan," was published. 
 His works were numerous up to 1831, when 
 the "Dutchman's Fireside" appeared, meeting 
 
THEOLOGIANS STATESMEN NOVELISTS HISTORIANS. 
 
 279 
 
 with great success. It is called the best of 
 his novels. This was followed by " West- 
 ward, IIo!" in which his characters are 
 drawn with great truth and vigor. His 
 sketch of the Kentucky hunter in his com- 
 edy of "Nimrod Wildfire," has met with great 
 popularit}-. In 1837, Mr. Paulding became 
 secretary of the na\'y under Mr. Van Bu- 
 ron. On his retirement he resumed his pen, 
 and some of his later productions were con- 
 tributions to the iJeiiiocratic Jicview. All 
 the works of Mr. Paulding would probably 
 reach some thirty volumes. His works 
 evince great descriptive power, skill in ciiar- 
 acter drawing, with much humor and a 
 strong natural feeling running through them 
 all. Mr. Paulding died in I'lSGO. 
 
 James Fenimoro Cooper, the most'widely 
 known of American novelists, as well as the 
 most distinguished, was born in 17S9, at 
 Burlington, New Jersey. He became a stu- 
 dent in Yale College in 1802, in the same 
 year with John C. Calhoun. On quitting 
 college, in 1805, he entered the navy as a 
 midshipman, for which position his daring 
 and open-hearted nature seemed to fit him. 
 He was very popular in the service, and a 
 most promising officer, when, after six years 
 of sea service — more than many old otlicers 
 see in a whole life-time — he resigned, mar- 
 ried, and finally retired to Cooperstown, N. Y. 
 His first work was " Precaution," which had 
 success, but not that eminent success that 
 attended his subsequent works. His next 
 work was the " Spy." This was decidedly 
 the best historical romance ever written by 
 an American, and its success was immense. 
 Notwithstanding many attempts of the press 
 to speak slightly of it, it created a furore in 
 the public mind, and imparted an immense 
 impulse to literature. The work was imme- 
 diately republished in all parts of Europe, 
 and it demonstrated the fact that everybody 
 read " an American book," since even in 
 England it rivalled the Waverley Novels in 
 pojiularity. A few years before his death, 
 Mr. Cooper received information that it had 
 been translated into the Persian, Arabic, 
 and some other oriental languages. ^Vhen 
 it is remembered that this story was a life 
 picture of the struggle for independence, the 
 ertcct of such a wide-spread circulation 
 among readers under every form of govern- 
 ment, may be estimated. 
 
 In 1823, the "Pioneers" made its appear- 
 ance, commencing that series of Leather- 
 stocking tales that w ill last while the coun- 
 
 try stands. The next work of Mr. Coop- 
 er's opened the series of his sea talcs, in 
 which he stands confessedly without a 
 rival. Those two lines of romance, the 
 American forest and the domain of Nep- 
 tune, Mr. Cooper made peculiarly his own, 
 and they both illustrate scenes peculiarly 
 American. The "Pilot," it is said, originated 
 in the fact that the " Pirate" of Sir Walter 
 Scott having recentl}' appeared, the conver- 
 sation turned upon the faultiness of the sea 
 delineation, and Cooper undertook to write 
 a sea story in which the seamansliip could 
 not be criticised, and the " Pilot" resulted. 
 Its success was unbounded. The next work 
 was "Lionel Lincoln," a story of the war dur- 
 ing the British occupation of Boston, and 
 although it was quite equal to the "Spy," yet 
 for some reason did not take with the f)ublic 
 m so great a degree. In 1820, the "Last of 
 the Mohicans" was produced, and it had a 
 success from the first, greater tlian any novel 
 had c\cr before had. It was purely orig- 
 inal, introducing for the first time upon the 
 field of literature, that race of men of whom 
 but a few jears will leave only the tradi- 
 tion. In the "Pilot,"a real seaman for the 
 first time came upon the stage, in the person 
 of Paul Jones ; and in the "Mohicans," the 
 red man made his di'hut in the person of 
 Uncas. Mr. Cooper immediately took rank 
 in England as one of the first romance writ- 
 ers of this, or any other age. Like the 
 "Spy," it was reproduced in everj- language of 
 Europe. The "Prairie" appeared next, while 
 Mr. Cooper was in Europe, and it carried 
 the reputation of the writer to a still higher 
 point. That work was succeeded by the 
 " Red Rover," which was followed by the 
 " Water Witch." The labors of Mr. Coop- 
 er continued up to 1 839, when his " History 
 of the American Navy" appeared. It had a 
 great and deserved success. It is a noble 
 monument to the gallant service which, 
 springing from the bosom of a newly formed 
 country, successfully grappled with the ty- 
 rant of the seas, and demonstrated to the 
 world that a new power had arisen to re- 
 dress the balance of the old upon the ocean. 
 There followed this work a continuation of 
 the Leather-stocking talcs, in the "Pathfinder" 
 and the "Deerslayer," both of which sustained 
 the high reputation of the series. The com- 
 plete works of Mr. Cooper embrace a great 
 number of volumes. Not all of them are 
 of the high grade of those which have given 
 him a world-wide character. There is not 
 
280 
 
 WBITi KS OF AMEIilCA. 
 
 a language in Europe into wliich they were 
 not all translated as soon as they appeared 
 in London. The readers of books in South 
 America, in India, thi-oughout England, and 
 in Russia, are fomihar with the name of 
 Coo])er, even where America is only known 
 as his home. 
 
 James Hall, born in Philadelphia in 1793, 
 died in 1868, made many contributions to 
 our literature. He was the author of " Le- 
 gends of tlie West," ''A History of the Li- 
 (liau Tribes of North America," "The Wil- 
 derne^s and the War Path." 
 
 Tlie years 1801 to 1810 were prolific in 
 the production of authors. Not less than ten 
 distinguished writers were born in those 
 years : Theodore S. Fay, Geo. li. Cheever, 
 Clias. F. Hoffman, C. M. Kirkhind, Nathan- 
 iel llawtliorne, N. P. Willis, II. W. Long- 
 fellow, W. G. Simras, Joseph C. Neal, S. M. 
 Fuller. ]Mr. Fay was educated for the 
 New York bar, and published first, in 18.32, 
 " Dreams and Reveries of a Quiet Man," 
 and essays written for the New York Mirror, 
 in which he was associated with Willis, Gen. 
 Morris, Rufus Dawes, etc. His novel of 
 "Norman Leslie" is better known. In 1837 
 he produi'ed tlie " Countess Ida ;" subse- 
 quently, " Hoboken ; a Tale of New York." 
 He has spent nio<t of his life abroad, under 
 goverumi'nt appointments. 
 
 Rev. Dr. Clieever was born in Maine, in 
 1807, educated at Bowdoin College anil Au- 
 dover Semiu;u'y. He preached first at Sa- 
 lem and afterwards in N. Y. City, but has 
 for some time past been without a charge. 
 He travelled extensively in Europe and has 
 written several interesting volumes of trav- 
 els, and a number of religious and controver- 
 sial works. He now resides in New Jersej'. 
 
 Charles F. Holfman was born in New 
 York in 180t), graduated at Columbia Col 
 lege, and commenced the study of the law. 
 He began his literary career as editor of the 
 Nw York American, associated with Charles 
 King, Esq., since president of Columbia 
 College; and in 1835 published "A Win 
 ter in the West," which met with great suc- 
 cess both in London and in New York. This 
 was followeil by " Wild Scenes in the For- 
 est and the Prairie," and subsequently by 
 " Greyslaer." Mr. Hoffman estabhshed the 
 Knickerbocker Magazine in 183S. In 1843 
 he published "The Vigil of Faith;" and 
 later several songs and essays. Since 1850 
 ho has been hopelessly insane. 
 
 Nathaniel llawthoiue was Lorn in .S.ufui 
 in 180-t, and graduated from Bowdoin Col- 
 lege, in Maine, in IiS25. In 1837 he pub- 
 lished " Twice Told Tales," that hail previ- 
 ously appeared in periodicals, in book Ibrm. 
 In 1846 a new collection of his magazine 
 papers was published, under the name of 
 " Mosses from an Old Manse." He had a 
 custom-house appointment in Boston, under 
 Collector Bancroft, and subsequently joined 
 the Fourierite community at " Brook Farm," 
 lloxburj-. Afterward appeared " The Scar- 
 let Letter," and "The House of Seven Ga- 
 bles," which confirmed his rank as one of 
 the great masters of romance. He was one 
 of the most distinguished of American wri- 
 ters ; and was appointed consul to Liverpool 
 Ijy President Pie:ce. In 1851 he published 
 " True Stories from History and Biogi aphy ; " 
 in 185-2, "The Snow Image;" in 1853, 
 "The Wonder Book;" in 1851), "The Mar- 
 ble Faun." Mr. Hawthorne died in 1864. 
 
 N. P. Willis was a native of Poriland, but 
 went early to Boston ; whence he entered 
 Yale College, where he graduated in 1827. 
 He was then engaged by S. G. Goodrich, 
 since known as " Peter Parley," to edit 
 "The Token." About the jear 1830 he 
 was appointed attache of the American le- 
 gation at Paris ; iu which capacity he col- 
 lected the materia's for " Pencillings by the 
 Way," which was first published iu the New 
 York Mirror. In 183'J he was one of tlie 
 editors of the Corsair, which was short- 
 lived. In 1840 an illustrated edition of his 
 poems was puUli-hed, and his "Letters from 
 under a Bridge." In 1843, in connection 
 with Geo. P. Morris, he revived the Mirror, 
 which lived but a few months. In 184C, the 
 two authors commenced the Home Journal, 
 which continues to fiourish. Mr. Willis had 
 a wide reputation at Lome and abroad. 
 While he won the admiration of the most 
 refined taste, he enjoyed a wide popularity 
 as a writer of light literature. Sir. Willis 
 died in 18G7 at Idlewild on the Hudson. 
 
 Henry W. Longfellow was born in Port- 
 land, Me., in 1807. He graduated at Bow- 
 doin College, and commenced the study of the 
 law; but abandoned it for a professorship of 
 modern languages in Bowdoin College, 
 which office he assumed in 1829. He 
 speedily won the reputation of a most grace- 
 ful poet, as well as of an accomplished 
 scholar. In 1836 he was called to the pro- 
 fessorship of modern languages at Harvard 
 
THEOLOGIANS STATESMEN NOVELISTS HISTORIANS. 
 
 281 
 
 College, which he has since retained. In 
 1833 he published his translation from the 
 Spanish of the Coplas of Don Jortre Man- 
 riquc. In 1835 he published " Outre-Mer," 
 and in 1838 " Hyperion ; a Romance," fol- 
 lowed by other poems. The merits of Mr. 
 Longfellow as a poet arc of the highest order. 
 Some of his poems have liad an unnsual suc- 
 cess. " Iliaw.atha" circulated to the extent 
 of 45,000 copies, and the " Courtship of 
 Miles Standish " acquired great popularity. 
 
 W. Gilmore Sinims was a native of 
 Charleston, South Carolina, ami became a 
 lawyer in that city. When only eighteen 
 years of age, he published his tii'st poems, 
 lyrical and others. Tliese were followed, 
 successively, by '• Early Lays," " The Vision 
 of Cortes," and, in 1830, by the " Tri color." 
 In 1832, while traveling at the north, he 
 wrote, at Hingham, Alass., his cliief poem — 
 '■Ataliintis ; a Story of the Sea " This was 
 followed by the stories of "Martin Faber;" 
 " Guy Rivers : A Tale of Georgia ;" " The 
 Yemassee : A Tale of South Carolina; " and 
 these by a great number of poems, historical 
 romances, revolutiouary storie:^, histories and 
 biographies, essays, and reviews — making in 
 all iifty volumes. Mr. Simms died in 1870. 
 
 John Grccnlcaf Whittier was born in 
 Haverhill, Mass., in 1807. His parents were 
 members of the Society of Friends. Re- 
 ceiving a very thorough English education, 
 at the age of twenty-two he became editor 
 of the American Manufacturer at Boston, 
 and in L830 succeeded George D. Prentice 
 in the Hew En'/land Wcehlij Review at 
 Hartford. In 1831 he published "Legends 
 of New England," and in 1 833 returned to 
 his early home, where ho published an essay 
 entitled "Justice and Expediency; or, Sla- 
 very Considered with a View to its Abt)li- 
 tion." In 1836, he became secretary of the 
 American Anti-Slavery Society, and soon 
 after removed to Philadelphia, where ho 
 edited for some years the Pcnnsi/lvania 
 Freeman. Meantime ho had been writing 
 some stirring poems, afterward collected 
 under the title of " Voices of Freedom." In 
 1840 lie settled at Amesbury, Mass., and 
 since that time has been a prolific writer 
 of lioth prose and poetry. His poems have 
 been collected in several forms, and entitle 
 him to rank among the foremost of American 
 poets. 
 
 Joseph C. Neal, born in Greenl.and, N. H., 
 in 1807, became editor of the Philadelphia 
 Pennsylvanian in 1831, and, after ten years' 
 
 conection with it, started the Saturday Ga- 
 zette. He is best known by a humorous vol- 
 ume — " Charcoal Sketches." He died in 
 1848. 
 
 Fitz-Greene Halleck (born 1785) be- 
 longed rather to the period of Cooper and 
 Irving than to the more recent cla~s of po- 
 etical writers. He wrote sparingly, but his 
 "Marco Bozzaris" and "Alnwick Castle" 
 will live. He died in 18G7. 
 
 Edgar A. Poe (born 1811 — died 1849) 
 was both a poet and prose writer, a man of 
 extraordinary genius. 
 
 James Russell Lowell (born 1819), editor 
 of Atlantic Monthly, and later of the North 
 American licview, is, perhaps, the ablest of 
 our younger poets, ))osse;sing both humor 
 and pathos. His " Biglow Papers" and his 
 more serious poems have great merit. His 
 I)rose writings are admirable. 
 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes (born 1809) has 
 distinguished himself both in prose and po- 
 etry. His humor is both delicate and pun- 
 gent, and his ])athetic pieces full of feeling. 
 J. G. Saxe (born 181G) has a high reputa- 
 tion as a humorous poet. Alfred B. Street 
 (born 1811) is a poet of great descriptive 
 power. Of the younger literary men, 15ay- 
 ard Taylor, as traveler, poet, and novelist, 
 occupies a very high rank. R. 11. Stoddard, 
 T. B. Aldricli,.!. R. Thomp.son. G. II. Roker, 
 T. B. Reed, AV. Allen Butler, and E. C. 
 Stedman, have all won a high reputation. 
 
 Among the clerical contributors to general 
 literature. Rev. Timothy Dwight, D. D. (born 
 1753 — died 1817), deserves the first place. 
 In 1774 he published an epic poem, "The 
 Conquest of Canaan," which was followed by 
 numerous lyric pieces. After his accession 
 to the presidency of Yale College in 1795, 
 he published " Travels in New England and 
 New York " in four volumes, the best picture 
 of the life and manners of those times now 
 extant. 
 
 Timothy Flint was born in Reading, Mass., 
 in 1780, and graduated nt Harvard College, 
 after which he was settled as a minister, but 
 soon departed for the west, whore he col- 
 lected the materials for his " Recollections 
 of Ten Years in the Valley of the Missis- 
 sippi," which wore published in 1826. The 
 success of this work was so great as to in- 
 duce him to make literature his profession. 
 His next work was " Francis Bcrrian ; or. The 
 Mexican Patriot," followed by the " Geo- 
 graphy and History of the Mississippi," in 
 1827. These works were followed by many 
 
282 
 
 WRITERS OF AMERICA. 
 
 others, and, in 1833, Mr. Flint had charge of 
 the Knickerbocker Ma(jazine fur some time, 
 after which he removed to Cincinnati, and 
 continued tliere until his death. 
 
 William E. Channincj was born at New- 
 port in 1780. He graduated at Harvard in 
 1798, Judge Story being his classmate. 
 On leaving college, he became a tutor in a 
 family of Virginia. lie was ordained pastor 
 of the Federal street churcli in Boston in 
 1803, and he continued there until his death 
 in 1 842. His earliest publications were 
 theological, particularly one on the " Uni- 
 tarian Belief," in 1819, which excited gre.-it 
 attention. In 1823, he published an essay 
 upon " National Literature." This was fol- 
 lowed by " lieniarks on the Life and Charac- 
 ter of Napoleon IJonajiarte." The address de- 
 livered in Boston, on "Self- Culture," in 18;J8, 
 was regarded as one of his best efforls. His 
 later work< were religious and reformatory. 
 
 Joseph S. Buelvminsler was lioni at Ports- 
 moulhtn 1784, graduated from Harvard Col- 
 lege in 1800, became pastor of Brattle street 
 church in 1805, and died in 1812, with a 
 great rejiutation for eloquence and literary 
 genius, though he had pulilished but little. 
 
 Andrews Norton was born in Ilingham in 
 178(j, graduated from Harvard in 1804, and 
 was prof ssor of sacred literature, &c. there 
 from 1813 to 18.'30. He wrote many valu- 
 able works, chiefly controversial, and some 
 poems of gr(>at beauty. 
 
 Hoi'ace Bushnell was born in Connecticut 
 in 1802, and graduated at Yale College in 
 1824. At one time, he was literary editor 
 of the N. T. Journal of Commerce ; from 
 1833 to 185G he was pastor of a Congrega- 
 tional church in Hartford. His first theologi- 
 cal work was published in 1847, and he has 
 since written largely on various topics. 
 
 Orville Dewey was born in 17!) I, in Shef- 
 field, Mass. He graduated at Williams Col- 
 lege in 1814. He supplied the pulpit of Dr. 
 Cliaiming when that gentleman went to Eng- 
 land. After being settled ten years in New 
 Bedford, lie became i)astor of the Church of 
 the Messiah in New York, but IVom 1858 to 
 11^02 was again pastor in Bo-ton. lie has 
 published many volumes at difierent times on 
 various sulijicts ; among others, in 1836, 
 "The Old \Vorld and the New;" in 1838, 
 " Moral Views of Commerce, Society, and 
 Politics." He has been one of the most 
 popular pulpit orators that the couutry has 
 produced. 
 
 Among the other clergymen who have at- 
 
 tained a high reputation fir scholarship and 
 literary ability, wc should name George 
 Bush, a critical Hebrew scholar, Moses Stu- 
 art, Thomas J. Conaiit, Horatio B. Ilackctt, 
 all eminent Hebraists; Bennet Tyler, Na- 
 thaniel W. Taylor, Lyman Beccher, Edward 
 Beecher, Mark Hopkins, Leonard Woods, 
 George P. Fisher, theological writers ; T. C. 
 Upham, J. Torrey, W. G. T. Shedil, Leonard 
 Bacon, Henry B. Siuith, Bishop C. P. 
 McHvaine, W. B. Spraguc, J. W. and J. A. 
 Alexander, G. W. Bethune, S. H. Tyng, Francis 
 Wayland and Barnas Sears as religious 
 and ecclesiastical wiiters ; and Nehemiah 
 and Wm. Adams, Richard S. Storrs, Jr , 
 Geo. B. Cheever, Joseph P. Thompson, R. 
 D. Ilitchco k, H. W. Beecher, A. L. Stone, 
 Bishops Potter, Burgess, Coxe, Doane, and 
 Kip, Richard Fuller," William R. Williams, 
 Will am Hague, Robert Turnbull, Abel 
 Stevens, J. P. Durbin. W. P. Strickland, 
 Daniel Curry, Stephen Oliu, and Jaines Floy, 
 as eloquent preachers and writers. The two 
 Roman Catholic Archbishops Kenrick, Arch- 
 bishop Hughes, Archbishop Spalding, and 
 Bishops Fitzpatrick and Kosecians, have all 
 acquired distinction as preachers and authors, 
 mostly on controversial topics. 
 
 Francis Wayland was born in the city of 
 New York in 179G, and graduated at Union 
 College. He was first settled over a Baptist 
 church in Boston, but ultimately succeeded 
 to the presidency of Brown Universit)', in 
 1827. His publications have been mimerous 
 on moral and scientific subjects, and ho has 
 conti'ibuted largely to the periodical press. 
 The editions of some of his works have been 
 very large : 12,000 were sold of his " Politi- 
 cal Economy," and nearly 30,000 of his 
 " Moral Science." 
 
 William Ware was born in 1797, at Iling- 
 ham, Mass., and graduated at Harvard in 
 1816. He was soon after settled in a Uni- 
 tarian church in New York. He commenced, 
 in the Knickerbocker 3fa;/azine, in 1836, a 
 scries of papers, which were subsequently 
 published together, as "Zenobia; or, The 
 Fall of Palmyra : an historical romance." 
 Then followed " Probus ; or, Rome in the 
 Third Century ;" "Julian ; or, Scenes in 
 Judea," appeared in 1S41. The writings of 
 Mr. Ware are graceful, pure, and brilliant m 
 st^'le. 
 
 Herman Hooker was born in Poultney, Vt., 
 in 1 807. Graduating at Middlebury College, 
 he took orders in the Episcopal church, but, 
 having the pulpit soon, removed to Phila- 
 
GENTLEMEN AUTHORS. 
 
 LADY AUTHORS. 
 
THEOLOGIANS STATESMEN NOVELISTS HISTORIANS. 
 
 283 
 
 phia, wliere he died in 1865. His books which 
 were all religion-:, po-sessed great merit. 
 
 Orestes A. Browusoii was born in Ver- 
 mont in 1802. The early life of Mr. Brown- 
 son was ob-scure. He seems, however, to 
 have been very erralie, but published several 
 works, until, in 1838, he began the Boston 
 Quarlerly, and in 1840 published a meta- 
 physical novel called " Charles Ellwood." 
 He continued to write for many reviews, 
 until, in 1844, he beg m Brownson's Qua ferly 
 Reciew, after hiving- united with the Uuinan 
 Catholic ciiurch. Since then he has achieved 
 a li'gh reputation as a controversialist. 
 
 John James Audubon, the great ornitholo- 
 gist, was born in Louisiana in 1782. Ue 
 was educated in Paris. On his return he 
 immediately commenced the series of draw- 
 ings, which, with the lapse of time, grew 
 into " The Birds of America" — of which 
 work Baron Cuvier remarked : " If ever it be 
 completed it will have to be confessed that, in 
 magnificence of execution, the old world is 
 surpassed by the new." After encountering 
 many vexations and disappointments, ho suc- 
 ceeded in publishing, in 1830, his first vol- 
 ume, containing one hundred plates, repre- 
 senting ninety-nine species of birds ; every 
 figure of the size and color of life. The 
 kings of France and England headed the 
 subscription list ; he was made a ineinl>er of 
 the lioyal Societies of London, Edinburgh, 
 and Taris, and the scientific world were en- 
 thusiastic in his praise. The second volume 
 was published in 1S34; in 1840 tlic fourth 
 and last volume was completed. The whole 
 comprises 435 plates, containing 1065 figures, 
 from the bird of Washington to the hum- 
 ming-bird, of the size of life, and a great va- 
 riety of land and marine views, carefully 
 drawn and colored from nature. He had 
 spent half a century in completing this mar- 
 vellous work, and well might he say : " I 
 look up with gratitude to the Supreme 
 Being, and feel that I am happy." 
 
 After the completion of this work, he be- 
 gan the "Quadrupeds of America," which 
 was also a marvellous production. His draw- 
 ings exhibit a perfection never before at- 
 tempted, and his pen is scarcely inferior to 
 his pencil. When Butfon had completed 
 tlie ornithological portion of his history, he 
 supposed that he had described all the birds in 
 the world, and remarked that the list "would 
 admit of no material augmentation !" Yet his 
 list comprised but one-six'teenth of those now 
 known to exist. Mr. Audubon died in 1851. 
 
 Gulian C. Verplanck was born in 1 7 85, in 
 New York — a true representative of the 
 Knickerbocker race. He graduated at Co- 
 lumbia College, and soon after obtained ad- 
 mission to tlie bar. In 1818 he came before 
 the public in a literary character, in an ad- 
 dress before the New York Historical So- 
 ciety. He became professor of the evi- 
 dences of Christianity in the theological 
 seminary of the Episcopal church, in 1820. 
 Subsequently Mr. Verplanck, in connection 
 with Mr. r>ryant and others, formed a liter- 
 ary confederacy, contributing to the literary 
 magazines and daily journals. At this time 
 was published " The Talisman," mostly by 
 Mr. Verplanck. He was a member of Con- 
 gress 1825-18."3. In 1844-40. he" edited 
 a fine edition of Shakspeare, which has a 
 iiigh reputation. IMr. W^iplanck died in 1870. 
 
 Henry R. Schoolcraft was born in 1793, 
 near Albany, and was early distinguished for 
 his literary and scientific acquirements. He 
 contributed largely to the preservation of 
 the history of tlie red races of the continent, 
 and was a high authurity on all that concerns 
 their customs. He died in 18G4. 
 
 In the range of history, American writers 
 have won the foremost po-ition among his- 
 torians of the present century ; and Euro- 
 pean critic-i admit the high reputation of 
 American hislories. 
 
 Jared Sjiarks (1 789-1 8C6) was born in 
 Willington, Conn., graduated from Harvard 
 University in 1815, was a tutor there and 
 subsequently pastor of a L'nitarian Church 
 in Baltimore, editor and pro])rietor of the 
 North American Review, 1823 to 1830, 
 and already distingui^-hed for his historical 
 researches. He published a 1 fe of " John 
 Ledyard, the American Traveler," " Diplo- 
 matic Correspondence of the American Rev- 
 olution" in 12 volumes, "Lifeof Gouverneur 
 Morris," '• Life and Writings of Wasjiinglon" 
 in twelve 8vo volumes, the '• Conii li te 'Works 
 of Franklin " in ten volumes, two i-eries of 
 Historical Biographies, one in ten, the other 
 in fifte<-n volumes, and " Corres|'ond( nee of 
 the American Revolution" in four volumes. 
 He was very careful, painstaking, and accu- 
 rate as a historian. He was Piesidcnt of 
 Harvard University from 1849 to 1853. 
 
 John Gorhani Palfrey, born in Bo-ton in 
 179(5 a classmate of Sparks, graduating from 
 Harvard University in 1815, w^is a Unita- 
 rian minister in Boston from 1818 to 1830. 
 professor of sacred literature in Harvard, 
 from 1831 to 1839 ; editor North American 
 
284 
 
 ■WRITERS OF AMERICA. 
 
 Jiei-f'cia 1835 to 1843; Secretary of State 
 of Massachu.^etts 1844 to 1848; member of 
 Coiifrress 1847 to 1849; lecturer at the 
 LowiU Institute 1830 and 1842 ; and be- 
 side numerous theological and reformatory 
 w&rks ]iublished " Pi'ogress of the Slave 
 Power," " History of iirattle St. Chuich," 
 "Life of Col. AVi'lliam Palfrey," "Review 
 of Lord Mahon's History of England," and 
 a " History of New England to 1C88," in 
 three volumes, a work of great research. 
 
 AVilliam H. Pre CHtt was born in 1796, at 
 Salem. He was grand ou of Gen. Prescott 
 who command d at ISunker Hill. In 1814, 
 he graduated at Harvard College, and entered 
 upon the study of the law. At college, by 
 an accident, one of his eyes was destroyed, 
 and the sight of the other mucli injured. 
 He po-scssed a handsome income, Sl-,l'liO 
 per aiuium, and devoted himself to tiic 
 study of the lan'.'uages and literature of 
 Europe, and contri dited largely to the 
 Nortii American Hcview. Ten years thus 
 passed i:i a kind of preparation for historical 
 studies; ten years more were occupied witli 
 investigation, and then his " Ferdinand and 
 Isabella" was published. The matei'ials for 
 this h id been sent him by Alexander Everett, 
 when minster to Spain. The work of accjuir- 
 ing the contents of books and writing with 
 out the use of eyes was a severe labor, b\it 
 was overcome by ingenuity and patience. 
 The work was everywhere hailed with enthu- 
 siasm. ]Mr. Pi-oscott wa-i made a member of 
 the Royal Academy of JMadrid, and its rich 
 collections, wi h those of the archives of 
 Seville, placed at his disposal, and every res- 
 ervoir of .Spanish history laid open to liim. 
 The " History of the Conquest of Mexico " 
 followed, and was succeeded by the " Con- 
 quest of Peru," and tlie " History of Philip 
 the Second," which added to the fame of Mi'. 
 Prescott. He died in 1S59. 
 
 George Haiicroft was born in "Worcester in 
 180;i, and graduated at Harvard in 1817. 
 Ho commenced the study of divinity, but 
 adopted literature as a ]irofession. In 1834, 
 he pu'ilished tlie first volume of the " History 
 of Colonization in the liiiite<l States. He 
 was subsequently appointed collector of Bos- 
 ton, and in 1814 secretary of the navy, 
 which post he resigned lo represent this 
 country at the Court of .St. James. During 
 more than thirty years his great '• History 
 of the United States" has been in progress, 
 reaching its tenth volume in 18(57. He has 
 been U. S. Minister at Berlin since 18G9. 
 
 William C. Bryant was born in ISIassa- 
 chusetts in 1794. He contributed lines to 
 the county Gazet'e when ten years old, and 
 four years later ]iublislied two poems ; at 19 
 he wrote hi> " I hanatopsis. He was for 
 two years in Williams College,and afterwards 
 studied law. In 1825 he edited the New 
 York Review, and in 1826 became editor of 
 the Evening Post, with which he is still con- 
 nected. He has written much both in poetry 
 and prose. His prose is remarkable for its 
 purity and elegance. 
 
 John Lothrop iMotley, who at once took 
 rank with Prescott and P>ancroft as a histo- 
 rian, was born in Dorchester, Mass., in 1814, 
 educated at Harvard University, and subse- 
 quently at Gottingen and Berlin, studied 
 l.iw, and was admitted to the bar in 1836, 
 but did not practice. He wrote two histori- 
 cal novels, publi>hed in 1839 and 1849. was 
 secretary of legation to Russia in 1840, be- 
 came interested in the history of Holland in 
 1845, and after collecting material for a his- 
 tory here, went to Europe in 1851, and spent 
 live years at Berlin, Dresden, a'ld the Hague 
 in the composition of his "Rise of the Dutch 
 Republic," ]iubli~hcil in 185(). This was fol- 
 lowed, in l^Gl), l)v three volumes of a history 
 of "The United Netherlands," and in 1866, 
 he published two more volumes of this his-' 
 tory ; minister to Austria in 1 '■ 6 1 , recalled 
 1867 ; minister to England 1869, 1870. 
 
 Richard Ilildreth (1807-1805) was an 
 .able politieal writer, novelist and historian. 
 He will be longest remembered for his val- 
 uable " Histoj-y of the United States," in 
 six volumes. He was also author of a work 
 on Japan. He was, at the time of liis death, 
 U. S. Consul at Trieste. 
 
 Benson J. Lossing ( born in Beckman, N. 
 Y., in 1813) has attained a high reputation 
 as a historian and historical biographer. His 
 " Pictorial Field Book of tlie Revolution," 
 his works on Washington and Mount Ver- 
 non, Life of '• Philip S<'huvler," "Histories 
 of the Uniieil States" " War of 1 8 1 2," an.l 
 " Pictorial History of the Rebellion," are all 
 works of interest and value, and their illus- 
 trations arc from his own skillful pencil. 
 
 flames T. Headley. Jacob and John S. C. 
 Abbott, John Foster Kirk, Francis Parkman, 
 J. Romeyn l^roadhead, E. B. O'Callaglian, 
 Parke Godwin, Charles Gayarre, Francis L. 
 Hawks, and Amos Dean have all published 
 historical works of some reputation. 
 
 Many of the female writers of America 
 have achieved distinction. JMrs. I'2mma Wil- 
 
THEOLOGIANS STATESMEN' XOVELISTS HISTORIANS. 
 
 285 
 
 lard wrote extensively on history and educa- 
 tional topics, and her sister, Mrs. Almira H. 
 Phelps, has not only contributed several 
 text-books to physical science, but has a fair 
 reputation, as a novelist. Hannah Adams, 
 the pioneer of female writers in Americi, 
 born 17Ji5, wrote a " History of New Eng- 
 land," " Vienna," &c. Mrs. Eliza Leslie 
 (1787-18.57) wrote several excellent novels, 
 and some works of great value, in the do- 
 main of the cu!ina:y at. Mrs. Lydia II 
 Sigoiu-ney (1791-1805) was alike remark 
 hie for licr poetical and her prose works ; 
 nitmy of the latter were prepared for the 
 young. Miss Catharine M. Sedgwick (1789- 
 i8()7) was the author of " Tlie Linwoods," 
 '• Redwood," " Hope Leslie," &c., novels of 
 great merit. Mrs. Harriet Heecher Stowe 
 (born in 1812) has been the most successful 
 of novelists. Her " Uncle Tom's Cabin " 
 sold to the extent of about 3.ji»,()0() copies 
 in the United States, and over 1, 500,00! i 
 in Great Britain, and her subsequent nov- 
 els, " Dred," " The Minister's Wooing," 
 '•Agnes of Sorrento," " The Pearl of Orr's 
 Island," "Old Town Folks," "Old Town 
 Stories," " Pink an 1 White Tyrany," 
 ?' Harry Henderson's History," etc., etc., 
 have had a large sale. She has also written 
 descriptive, biographical, and other works, 
 and occasional poems of great merit. Her 
 sifter, Miss Catharine E. Becher, has written 
 numerous works, educational .and controver- 
 sial. Miss Susan Warner has acliieved a 
 high reputation ('under her nom de plume 
 of Elizabeth Wetherell) by her novels, 
 "The Wide, Wide World," " Qiieechy," 
 " The Hills of the Shatemuc," and " Say 
 and Seal," etc. Mrs. S. P. W. Parton 
 (Fanny Fern) h.as been very successful, not 
 only as a novelist, in her " Ruth Hall," but 
 as a light essayist, in .her " Fern Leaves," 
 &c. Miss M. •). ^Mackintosh, the author of 
 " Charms and Counter-Cliarms," and numer- 
 ous other novels, hai a high reputation. 
 Mrs. E. D. E. N. South worth "(born in 181S) 
 commenced her career as an author in 1843, 
 and since that time has published over one 
 hundred novels, all of them of considerable 
 merit. Mrs. Ann S. Stephens (born in 1813) 
 has attiiined distinction as a novelist, as a 
 writer of historical and practical works, and 
 as editor of a ladies' magazine. Mrs. E. 
 Oakes Smith has written largely and well 
 on the most diverse subjects — metaphysic-,, 
 literature, houseliold matters, criticism, the 
 drama, poetry, and fiction. 
 
 Mrs. Lydia Maria Ch'.ld (born 1802) has 
 been a very popular writer, Her " Ilobo- 
 mok " and " The Rebeh " were her earlier 
 efforts, and brouglit her reputation which 
 was increased by her subsequent works. 
 Mrs. Caroline M. Kirkland (1801-1864) 
 was a graceful and elegant wi'iter. Her 
 "New Home — Who'll Foil iw ?" first intro- 
 duced her to the public, and her subs-quent 
 works enlianced her reputation. Mrs Alice 
 B. (Neal) Haven (1828-18G3) edited the 
 Saturda;/ Gazette after the deadi of her hus- 
 band, (Juseph C. Neal) and subsequently 
 published a volume of poems and a number 
 of admirable juvenile books. 
 
 Mrs. Mary .1. Holmes, ilrs. M. Virginia 
 Terhune (Marion Ilarland), 5Irs. Anna 0. 
 (Mowatt) Ritchie, Mi-s A. J. Evans, Mis-e» 
 Alice and Plirebc C.ary, Mrs. E. F. EUet, 
 Mrs. E. C. Embury, Miss Maria Cummins, 
 Miss Caroline Chesebro, Mrs. H. Prescott 
 Spofford, Blrs. E. Robinson (Talvi), Mrs. 
 Catharine A. Warfield, Mrs. Harriet Stuart 
 Phelp-, and her daughter. Miss E. Stinxrt 
 Phelps, Mrs. Eliz.abeth Stoddard, IMrs. IMary 
 A. Deni^on, Mrs. M. A. S.adlier. Mrs. Mar- 
 garet C. Lawrence, Mrs. Madeline Leslie, 
 Miss Caroline Kelly, Mrs. M. E. Hewitt, 
 Mi-s Virginia F. Town-end, Mrs. L. C. 
 Tuthill, Mrs. Emily C. Ju.Uon (Fanny For- 
 rester, 18 i 7-185 1), Mrs. Helen C. Knight, 
 Mrs. (I. Prentiss, IMrs. A. D. T. 'Whitney, 
 iMi-s Helen C. Weeks, Jlrs. J. 1). Chaplin, 
 Mrs. Mary D. Chellis, have all written poi)U- 
 lar works of fiction, or light literature, which 
 have had a very large sale. 
 
 Mrs. S. Margaret Fuller, afterwards Coun- 
 tess D'Ossoli, one of the most vigorou; and 
 thoughtful writers of any age, (1810-1850) 
 was for some years in charge of the literary 
 depiLrtment of the N. Y. Tribune, and pub- 
 lished beside some trans'ation* and many 
 essays, and a work entitled " Woman in tlie 
 Nineteenth Century." 
 
 Several of the ladies named above have 
 distinguished themselves as poots, particu- 
 larly Mrs. Sigourney, whose religious and 
 elegiac poems have given her a high repu- 
 tation ; Mrs. Stowe, Mrs. E. Oakes Smith, 
 Mrs. Alice B. Haven, Mrs. Emily C. Judson, 
 Miss Alice Cary, and her sister, Miss Phoebe 
 Cary. But tiiere are other American female 
 writers, whose poetry alone has won them 
 high distinction. Among t'.iese we may 
 name Mrs. Maria Brooks (Slaria del Occi- 
 dent, 1795-1815), whose principal poem, 
 " Zophiel," attracted attention in Europe 
 
286 
 
 PRITING-PRESS. 
 
 from its remarkable curative power ; the 
 Davidson sisters, remarkable instances of 
 precocious talent ; Mrs. Frances Sargent Os- 
 good ( l'^12-18.J0), remarkable for her play- 
 f ilness of fancy and felicity of expression ; 
 Jliss Hannah F. Gould, (I TSO-lHOo) a poet 
 of rare ability and vigor ; Mrs. Julia Waid 
 Howe, pei'haps the most gifted of our living 
 female po'ts ; Mrs. Frances Anne Kemble 
 ( 18 11-1 .S7 1 ) ; Mrs. Caroline Gilman ; Mrs. 
 Sarah J. Lippiucott, (Grace Greenwood), 
 whose ''Aiiadue a Na.xas " attracted great 
 
 attention from its intensity of passion ; Mrs. 
 Amelia B. Welby, remarkable for the exquis- 
 ite rhythm of her poetry ; Mrs. Sarah Helen 
 Whitman, airs. Anne C. (Lynch) Botta,Mps. 
 Estelle Anna Lewis, Mrs. >arali d. Hide, 
 Miss Caroline May, jNIrs. Maria Lowell, Mrs! 
 MiiT-y H. C. IJootli, Miss Edna Dean Proctor, 
 Blrs. Rosa V. Jolinson, Miss Kuse Terry, Mrs. 
 M. S. B. Dana, and Miss Anna li. inker 
 ( Kdilh May*. Tliere are others perhaps who 
 deserve a place in this record, but these have 
 all gained a prominent position as poets. 
 
 PllINTING-PPiESS. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 PRINTING PRESS— TIANDPOWER— 
 
 LIGHTNING. 
 
 If a middle-aged man now visits the press- 
 room of a " crack " daily, and observes a 
 huge machine, some twenty feet high, driven 
 by a steam engine, delivering seven largo 
 newspapers, nicely printed, at every tick of a 
 clock, and watches the piles of paper grow- 
 ing at tlie rate of 420 per minute, or at 
 that of '2), 200 per liour, weighing over one 
 ton, and reflects that the utmost power of 
 the best machines of his youth would rcipiire 
 an active man and a boy two long liours 
 to do what this wliizzing monster does in 
 a minute, he will form some idea of the pro- 
 gress made in paper printing, and also of 
 what is required to meet a daily demand. 
 In the days of Franklin, the press-work of a 
 paper was a very laborious affair. The ma- 
 chines of that day were very imperfect, and, 
 if reference is had to the illustration on an- 
 other page, contrasting the actual maciiine 
 which Franklin used, and which is still pre- 
 served in the patent oflice at Washington, 
 with the fast press now in use, a good idea 
 will be formed of tiie progress in press- 
 building. In that press, it will be observed, 
 the bed is a platform about three feet high, 
 between two upriglits. In the cross-piece at 
 the top is a female screw in which works 
 the screw attached to the wooden platen. 
 This screw being turned by the pressman, 
 causes the platen to ascend and descend. 
 
 There is, in front, a table, which slides over 
 the platform at the will of the operator, who, 
 to effect this, turns a crank. On this table 
 was laid the type. Over the type was a 
 frame, which encircled the type, or form, and 
 crossed it in those places where the white 
 margin appears in a printed paper. On this 
 frame the paper of proper size was laid, after 
 being " wet down ;" another fold of the 
 frame confined the paper ; the whole was 
 then slid on to the platform. The screw 
 being turned, caused the platen to descend, 
 and the i'mpression was made. The screw 
 was then raised, the form slid back, the frame 
 raised, and the paper lifted and examined by 
 the pressman to see if his impression was 
 "good." If it satisfied him, lie proceeded 
 to ink his types for a new impression. The 
 ink employed in printing is very different 
 from that employed for writing, and much 
 skill is required in the manufacture. It 
 must be soft, adhesive, and easily trans- 
 ferred ; it must dry quickly, and be durable, 
 and not liable to spread. The usual mate- 
 rials are linseed oil, rosin, and coloring mat- 
 ters, lamp-black being used for black inL 
 The peculiar mode of the best makers is 
 somewhat of a secret. The old mode of ap- 
 plying it was by two ink balls, about the 
 size of a man's hat, made of soft leather, and 
 stuffed with cotton, the leather being nailed 
 round a wooden handle. The pressman, 
 taking one in each hand, daubed them with 
 ink, and worked them together until he had 
 spread the ink. He then applied them to 
 
MATLi: 01' HKN.JA.MIN Kl: ^\\l.l\ iX I'KIMISi; IKH > K SCilAlli:. NKW YORK. 
 
PRINTING-PRESS HAND POWER LIGHTNING. 
 
 287 
 
 the types as evenly as possible; then, laying 
 them aside, ho proceeded, as before, to lay 
 his paper evenly upon the frames, slide it 
 up, work the screw, etc. By this process, 
 an active man could work fifty sheets in an 
 hour ; by ten liours steady industry, he 
 could get off an edition of 500 copies for 
 the carriers in the morning;. There was lit- 
 tle room for much expansion under such a 
 state of printing. The first great advance in 
 the direction of speed, was when the lever 
 was substituted for the screw in making the 
 impression. This was introduced by Mr. John 
 Clymer, and called the Columbian, or Clymer 
 press, in which there was no screw, but the 
 head itself was a large and powerful lever, 
 acted on by proportionate levers, thus bring- 
 ing to perfection, f >r presses of a l;n'ge size, 
 certain principles of leverage which had pre- 
 viously been patented in England, and used 
 in presses of a small size, such as foolscap. 
 The platen was, in fact, a falo-um for the 
 head, or great lever. Thus the fulcrum and 
 lever superseded the inclined plane, or screw. 
 Mr. Clymer went to England in 1S17, and, 
 at that tim.e, the famous " Cobbett's llegis- 
 ter" was printed on an " American press," a 
 circumstance that was regarded as a great 
 joke at the time. By this invention, two 
 levers, one aflixed at the cross-piece above, 
 and one to the platen, were brought together 
 by a joint, like the bent knee of a man's 
 leg. At tliis joint was applied a lever, by 
 which the pressman, with one pull, brought 
 the joint into a perpendicular line, bj- so do- 
 ing giving an instantaneous and powerful 
 impression. The platen being suspended 
 by spiral springs, instantly rose when the 
 lever was released. The saving in time was 
 immense, one pull of the workman being 
 sufficient for all the old screwing and un- 
 screwing. Improvements in the Clymer 
 press were made by I'eter Smith and Sam- 
 uel Ilust, and these improvements are com- 
 bined in Iloe's Washington press, of wliich 
 a cut will be found on another page. Inven- 
 tions of a similar character were made by 
 Mr. John Wells, of Connecticut. The prin- 
 ciple of the lever has been applied in various 
 ways, and contains the chief feature in press 
 power. The form of lever now generally 
 used, will be seen in the engraving of Hoe 
 and Smith's printing press, which is the fa- 
 vorite for all work where power presses are 
 not recpiired. Next to the introduction of 
 the lever, was the substitution of the inking 
 machine for the old ink balls. This was 
 
 constructed of a cylinder which revolved, by 
 hand, against an ink trough, and, by so do- 
 ing, received evenly over its surface the ink. 
 The smaller rollers Avere constructed on a 
 light frame, to which a handle was attached. 
 These, laid upon the ink roller, received from 
 it the ink, and then being pushed forward 
 over the type, imparted it to them with one 
 movement of the hand. This, worked by a 
 boy, is seen in the engraving. The pressman 
 was now relieved of the inking, and, work- 
 ing with a lever, he could print, with active 
 industry, 200 sheets in an hour. The next 
 movement was to make this inking machine 
 self-acting, by attaching it to the press in 
 sucli a manner that lifting the paper frame 
 would cau-e it to act. 
 
 The liuggles Job press, introduced in 1S,T9, 
 and llie Combinatiou press patented in 1.S41, 
 both enio3ed a large measure of poi)ularity, 
 but have been of late superceded by other 
 styles, especially those manufactured by 
 R. Hoe & Co., who have been in>trumental 
 in making most of the early improvements 
 of late years upon the printing press. 
 
 The next important improvement in the 
 machines, was the introduction of the cylin- 
 der, or Napier press. In this machine, of 
 which an engraving is presented in another 
 column, the form of typo is locked upon a 
 strong iron table, which moves forward and 
 backward, passing in its course under a cyl- 
 inder, which, made of iron, is covered with 
 a soft blanket, and provided with a set of 
 fingers to seize the sheet as it is presented. 
 Against this is inclined the feeding bench, on 
 which is laid the paper. On the bench is a 
 small brass peg", or pointer, against which 
 the feeder brings the paper accurately, in or- 
 der that the sheets may " register" — that is, 
 each receive the type at the same distance 
 from the margin. When the cylinder re- 
 volves, it raises with its fingers the edge 
 of the paper, draws it round itself, and 
 presses it against the type, which, at the 
 same instant, passes under it. The paper 
 then released by the cylinder, is carried by 
 ribbons to the rear, while the tvpe vibrates 
 back, to return as soon as the cylinder has 
 again drawn forward a sheet of paper. At 
 first, a boy was required to fly the papers, or 
 catch them as thev were thrown back from 
 the cylinder, and pile them up. This, by the 
 self-acting liyer, as seen in tiie engraving, is 
 now dispensed with. This machine raised 
 the number' that might be printed to be- 
 tween 2,000 and 3,UU0 per li.mr. The bed 
 
288 
 
 PRINTING-PRESS. 
 
 is made of a size to take a paper fiom 25x33 
 inches, to one 40x60 inches, Very soon an 
 improvement suggested itself to the ingenious 
 and thoughtful inventor. As at first con- 
 structed, the type, in moving forward and 
 backward, made only one impression. It 
 was easy to introduce anotlicr cylinder, in 
 order to take an impression from the type 
 on its leturn. This was the double cylinder, 
 which delivers a paper at each end. The 
 cost of these i-^, for the large size, $6,850 ; 
 increased capacity, 3,500 to 6,400 impressions 
 per hour. In this operation, the vibration 
 of the type bed was the great difficulty. 
 The type and bed will weigh over 1,000 lbs. 
 This mass, moving backward and forward 
 with groat momentum, produced a great 
 concussion, although it was met by strong 
 springs which stopped its progress and aided 
 its return. Many improvements were made 
 in these springs. The noise and annoyance 
 occasioned by the concussion of the bed 
 against the springs, which are placed at each 
 end of the machine to overcome the momen- 
 tum of the bed, was removed by means of 
 adjustable India-rubber buft'ers placed at the 
 points of contact, which in no way interfere 
 with the lively and certain action of the spi- 
 ral springs. The same object is also efl'ectcd 
 by air springs, by which the head of the 
 bed, plunging into a receiver, condenses the 
 air, causing it to act as a spring. 
 
 It was ob^'ious, however, that the weight 
 and concussion of this bed were a bar to 
 further progress in this direction, and it was 
 felt that greater speed could be attained only 
 by causing the type itself to revolve. This 
 was no new idea. It had been patented in 
 England in 1790, but the inventor could 
 not succeed in holding the types, since the 
 rapid revolution of such a weiglit gives a 
 powerful centrifugal motion. What they 
 could not do in England, Richard M. Iloe 
 did in New York, in 1847, after many at- 
 tempts had been made to accomplish the de- 
 sired result. In this Tuachine, as will be 
 seen in the illustration, the form of type is 
 placed on the surface of a horizontal revolv- 
 ing cylinder of about four and a half feet in 
 diameter. The form occupies a segment of 
 only about one-fourth of the surface of the 
 cylinder, and the remainder is used as an 
 ink-distributing surface. Around this main 
 cylinder, and parallel with it, arc placed 
 smaller impression cylinders, varying in num- 
 ber from four to ten, according to the size 
 of the machine. The engraving represents 
 
 three. The large cylinder being put in mo- 
 tion, the form of types is caiTied successively 
 to all the impression cylinders, at each of 
 which a sheet is introduced, and receives the 
 impression of the types as the form passes. 
 Thus, as many sheets are printed at each rev- 
 olutii^n of the main cylinder, as there are 
 impression cylinders around it. One person 
 is required at each impression cylinder to 
 supply the sheets of paper, which are taken 
 at the proper moment by fingers or grippers, 
 and, after being printed, are conveyed out by 
 tapes and laid in heaps by means of self-act- 
 ing flyers, thereby dispensing with the 
 hands required in ordinary machines to re- 
 ceive and pile the sheets. The grippers 
 hold the sheet securely, so that the thinnest 
 newspaper may be printed without waste. 
 
 The ink is contained in a fountain placed 
 beneath the main cylinder, and is conveyed 
 by means of distributing rollers to the dis- 
 tributing surface on the main cylinder. This 
 surface being lower, or less in diameter than 
 the form of types, passes by the impression 
 cylinder without touching. For each im- 
 pression, there are two inking rollers, which 
 receive their supply of ink from the distrib- 
 uting surface of the main cylinder, which 
 rise and ink the form as it passes under 
 them, after which, they again fall to the dis- 
 tributing surface. 
 
 Each page of the paper is locked up on a 
 detached segment of the large cylinder which 
 constitutes its bed and chase. The column 
 rules run parallel with the shaft of the cylin- 
 der, and arc, consequent!}-, straight, while 
 the head, advertising, and dash rules, 
 are in the form of segments of a circle. 
 The column rules are in the form of a 
 wedge, with the thin part directed toward 
 the axis of the cylinder, so as to bind the 
 types securely. These wedge-shaped column 
 rules are held down to the bed by tongues 
 projecting at intervals along their length, 
 which slide in rebated grooves cut crosswise 
 in the face of the bed. The spaces in the 
 grooves between the column rules are accu- 
 rately fitted with sliding blocks of metal 
 even with the sur&ce of the bed, the ends 
 of which blocks are cut away underneath to 
 receive a projection on the siilcs of the 
 tongues of the colunm rules. The form of 
 type is locked up in the bod b}' moans of 
 screws at the foot and sides, by which the 
 type is held as securely as in the ordinary 
 manner upon a flat bed— if not even more 
 so. The speed of these machines is limited 
 
PRINTING-PRESS HAND POWER LIGHTNING. 
 
 297 
 
 only by tlie ability of the feeders to supply 
 the sheets. The four-cylinder machine is 
 run at a speed of over 10,000 per hour; the 
 six-cylinder machine, 15,000 an hour; the 
 eight-cylinder machine, 20,000 ; and the ten- 
 cylinder m.achine, 25,000. This system com- 
 bines the greatest speed in printing, durabil- 
 ity of the machinery, and economy of labor. 
 As we have said, this great machine deliv- 
 ers seven sheets per second, or 420 per min- 
 ute. It does in one minute what Franklin 
 required ten hours to do, and the papers 
 contain ten times as much matter, and are 
 eight times as large. Thus, to print as much 
 reading would have required 100 hours in 
 the last century, against one minute now. 
 In other words, 6,000 men with 6,000 press- 
 es, would have done very badly what this 
 machine does very well. 
 
 The next attempted improvement in the 
 speed of machines has been, to do for the re- 
 volving cylinder what was done before with 
 the Napier press. In the case of the latter, 
 another cylinder was introduced to take the 
 type on its return vibration, thus getting two 
 impressions from one movement. In the 
 case of the revolving type, something simi- 
 lar has been attempted. It has been stated 
 that the form of type occupies but a seg- 
 ment of the cylinder. It was conceived 
 that by placing the other form on the va- 
 cant space of the cylinder, tliat both would 
 be printed with one revolution, thus doub- 
 ling the amount of work done by the same 
 number of revolutions. The mechanical 
 part the Messrs. lloe succeeded in perfecting, 
 but the ditticulty encountered was in the pa- 
 per. It will be conceived that when the pa- 
 per is printed with such inconceivable rapid- 
 ity, that the ink has no time to " set," and 
 to impress it on the other side in almost the 
 same instant of time is more tlu n tlio nature 
 of the operation will permit, and the type 
 " takes off," so to speak, or \vill not pro- 
 duce a perfect impression. Some other per- 
 sons made the same attempt, with similar re- 
 sults. I'rogress in that direction has, there- 
 fore, been suspended, b..t the ellbrts of gen- 
 ins are being directed anew, and the expe- 
 rience of the past has warned us not to be 
 surprised at wliat may yet be done. There 
 have been attempts made to simplify the 
 process by fitting stereotype plates to cylin- 
 ders, and with some success ; but under the 
 old plaster process too long a time was re- 
 quired for drying and tinishing to permit their 
 use by the daily press. The introduction of 
 
 the paper process, (making the dies or mat- 
 rices in which liie stereotype plates arc cast, 
 of paper pulp) has effected a complete revo- 
 lution, and all the dailies of large circulation 
 stereotype their forms. 
 
 The weeklies of large circulation, are usu- 
 ally printed on IIoe"s large single cylinder 
 pres';. In these cases, where time is not so 
 much an object, the forms are multiplied by 
 the electrotypes and worked on a large num- 
 ber of presses. In some cases, the circula- 
 tion running up to 400,000 weekly, a press 
 running 1.5uO per hour, or 20,000 in a day, 
 will rc(juire ten presses four dajs to perfect 
 the edition on both sides, and for this pur- 
 pose, ten separate forms will be required. 
 These machines will take a form 19x23^ 
 inches, and up to 40x57 inches. The cost 
 of the ibrmer is : 1,800, and of the latter 
 size, 5f3,'.Xl0. 
 
 The jiress most u^ed for book work differs 
 in principle from either the Napier or the 
 revolving type. It was the invention of 
 Isaac Adams, of Massachusetts, and it bears 
 his name. The type in the press has no 
 movement except slightly up and down. It 
 receives the ink from a self-acting machine, 
 and the paper is fed to it from an inclined 
 plane, when, the impression being made, it 
 is lifted off by the fly and deposited in the 
 rear. It is one of the most perfect of presses. 
 The prices of these vary from $1,050 to $6,- 
 250 according to size. The engraving on 
 another page will give a good idea of this 
 machine, of which the patent is secured by 
 the Messrs. Hoe. 
 
 For the best qualities of book, wood-cut, 
 and color printing, where the wood cuts are 
 printed in the same page with letter-press, 
 the IMessrs. Iloe (to whom all the most im- 
 portant of the late improvements in printing 
 presses are due) have produced a " stop-cyl- 
 inder wood-cut press," which by its numer- 
 ous rollers and its perfect adjustment, secures 
 the finest possible impressions of the best 
 wood engravings. It has from two to ten 
 form rollers, and from three to twelve dis- 
 '.ributors, according to size, and by an at- 
 taehm nt the rollers may be made to pass 
 over the form two or four times between 
 each impression. There is no jarring of the 
 bed, and by an ingenious device a perfect 
 register is obtained. A " T3'pe Revolving 
 Book Perfi.'cting Pre?s " of their construc- 
 tion is also an admirable machine for the 
 finest book work, but is very expensive. 
 Among other book and newspaper presses of 
 
298 
 
 TYPES. 
 
 considerable merit, introduced within the 
 past ten year^, are the Cottrell and Babcock, 
 the A. B. Taylor, the A. Campbell, and the 
 C. Potter, Jr. & Co. presses. Messrs. Van- 
 deburgh & Wells, dealers in printing presses 
 
 and printers' materials, express a preference 
 lor the first two, but all have their good qual- 
 ities. There are also several new jobbing 
 presses, including two of Hoe's, Gordon's, 
 the Universal, and the Globe. 
 
 TYPES. 
 
 CHAPTER T. 
 
 TYPE FOUNDING— STKRKOTYPING — ELEC- 
 TROTYPING. 
 
 There has been little change in the gene- 
 ral form of metal types used in printing, but 
 much improvement in the quality of the 
 metal used, in the style of the letters, and in 
 the process of casting. There are many 
 sizes of type used, but the ten following arc 
 those most used in books and newspapers. 
 They arc mcntiiine<l in the order of the sizes, 
 the smallest being first : — Diamond ; Pearl ; 
 Agate; Nonpareil; Minion; Brevier; Bour- 
 geois; Long I'rimer; Small Pica; Pica. 
 The size of the type employed in this page 
 is Long Primer. 
 
 There arc some combinations of these 
 sizes ; but these arc the leading ones mo^t 
 in use. These have not vai'ied iimch for a 
 long period of time, although the compe- 
 tition among the type founders has led to 
 the introduction of many styles. 
 
 In 1812, on the publication of "The Co- 
 lumbiad," by Joel Barlow, a size of type, 
 known as Columbian, «as cut for the work, 
 which was designed to be very perfect. It 
 wan embellished by Robert Fulton ; and it 
 was the first ever printed upon Clymer's 
 newly invented press, which press took the 
 nam 3 of the Columbian in consequence. 
 
 The casting of the tvpo was, until within 
 fifteen years, done by liand for each separate 
 letter. The matrix of the type is of cop- 
 per, 1} inches long, -^ of an inch deep, and 
 of the breadth of the type to bo cast. The 
 form of tlie letter is made in the end of the 
 copper matrix by a steel die. The copper 
 matrix is then inclosed in a wooden box, 
 which has a hopper to admit the melted 
 metal. There is a spring attached, by which 
 the matrix may be opened to release the let- 
 ter when cast. The castor, holding this in 
 his left hand, takes from the furnace, with a 
 very small iron ladle or spoon, about as 
 
 much of the metal as will form one letter. 
 This he pours in, and at the same time gives 
 the matrix a smart upward jerk, which set- 
 tles the metal into the finest cuts of the let- 
 ter. He then presses the spring, hooks out 
 the letter, closes the matrix, and proceeds as 
 before. A skilful man will in this way cast 
 500 types in an hour. In 1811, Mr. David 
 Bruce received a patent for an improvement 
 in the mould, by which 25 per cent, more 
 work was done. This system has changed 
 since the introduction of machinery. 
 
 About 15 years since, Mr. Geo. Bruce, Jr., 
 of New York, invented a very beautiful ma- 
 chine for casting type, and it is the best in 
 the woi'ld. The patent has been renewed at 
 the last session of Congress for seven years, 
 and the right, title, and interest, have been 
 purchased by Messrs. J. Conner & Sons. By 
 this machine a man can cast three times as 
 much in a day as by the old plan. The 
 wages are less than half, per thousand, what 
 they were before, but the caster, neverthe- 
 less, earns more. In these machines the 
 type metal — which is a mixture of lead, tin, 
 and antimony — is contained in a state of 
 fusion in a small iron reservoir, about 5 
 inches square, and into which it is forced 
 with great power. This is tapped by a 
 nipple, which holds as much melted metal 
 as will cast a type. The mould is of steel, in 
 a small machine which is worked by a crank. 
 It is simply for the body of the type, and is 
 so placed that the lower end, by a move- 
 ment of the machine, will fit exactly over the 
 orifice of the nipple. Against the other end 
 is apjilied a copper matrix of the letter, and 
 firmly held by a spring. The operator then 
 causes the metal to jet into the mould. Then, 
 as soon as it is " set," he releases it, opens 
 the mould, and allows the type to drop into 
 a box. In this process, the matrix of the 
 letter is separated from the body of the 
 type. It is formed on a steel die, and im- 
 pressed into the copper previously prepared, 
 
FRANKLIN I'Kt&h 
 
 PATENT WASHINQTON PRINTINQ PRESS- 
 
PATENT HAN-D-PEESS STEAM INKING MAOHOrE. 
 
 niPEOTED INKINO APPARATUS FOR THE HAND-PRESS 
 
S 
 
 3. 
 
 ■^^illlRBlJii?' 
 
PATENT RAILROAD TICKET MACHINE. 
 
 In this machine the fonns tire placed on a cyUnder wliidi enables it to run with a continuous rotary 
 movement. The tickets are worked from a roll of paper, and are printed, numbered, cut, and deposited 
 in a receptacle in numerical order iu a single operation. The numbering apparatus prints the number in 
 a different color from the body of the ticket, and can be set at or any required number with great 
 facility. The machine will print from 10,000 to 12,000 tickets per hour, and occupies a space of about 
 two feet square. 
 
TVPE-FOUNDING STEREOTVPING ELECTKOTYPING. 
 
 299 
 
 with great force. The adjustment of tliis 
 matrix to the mould is a work of great care 
 and nicety. After the type is cast, by 
 whatever process — whether by machinery or 
 the ancient spoon method — it has to under- 
 go a smoothing operation. This is performed 
 by young people, principally girls ; three 
 or four sitting around tables surmounted 
 with properly prepared stone slabs, and 
 by the fingers rubbing the roughness oft" 
 each individual type. At this work tliey 
 earn from $5 to $7 per week. The type 
 goes tlien into the hands of the dresser. He 
 cuts out what is called the jet end, by which 
 process all the types are made of the exact 
 height. On tlic nicety of this operation de- 
 pends the ability to use the type. It may 
 be liere remarked that American type conies 
 nearly always perfect into the hands of the 
 dresser, while in England nearly one-fourth 
 is rejected as imperfect. 
 
 The types liavc upon one side a " nick." 
 As the types are perfected, a boy sets them 
 on a "galley," with all the nicks out. They 
 are then assorted into small "fonts," and 
 are then ready for the printer. The propor- 
 tions in which the different letters are cast 
 to a font of type, and in which they occur 
 in print, arc as follows : Letter e, 1 500 ; 
 t, 900 ; a, 850 ; n, o, s, i, 800 ; h, 640 ; r, 620 ; 
 d, 440; 1, 400; u, 340; c, m, 300; f, 250; 
 w, y, 200; g, p, 170 ; b, 160 ; v, 120 ; k, 80 ; 
 q, 60 ; j, X, 40 ; z, 20. Besides these, are 
 the combined letters : fi, 50 ; ff, 40 ; fl, 20 ; 
 ffi, 15; fH, 10; SB, 10; oe, 5. The propor- 
 tion for capitals and small capitals differs 
 from the small letters. In tliosc, I takes the 
 first place, then T, then A and E, etc. The 
 " cases" in which the types arc put for use, are 
 arranged in the manner seen in the engraving 
 on another page. The little square boxes 
 in which the typo is laid are not arranged in 
 the regular order of the alphabet, but in the 
 order which experience has shown is tlie 
 most convenient for the compositor. Those 
 letters which occur the oftenest — as e, for 
 instance- — occupy the largest scjuarcs nearest 
 his hand, and the others in the order of their 
 relative importance ; the capitals, small 
 capitals, and marks, each in its proper place, 
 in the upper case. The workman does not 
 look at the type. He reads his copy only, 
 and that frequently tasks his ingenuity to 
 make out. lie knows the tvpes from the 
 boxes they occupy, and the " nick" enables 
 him to place them right side up by sense of 
 feeling only. He is paid by the thousand 
 18* 
 
 ems when working by the piece. An em is 
 about the space of a letter M, and 2,200 
 ems go to one of the pages of this book. A 
 good workman will set 5,000 to 0,000 ems 
 in a day. Sometimes they arc paid by the 
 week, §12 per week, which is about the 
 amount that an expert workman will earn 
 by the thousand. The type ho places in a 
 small iron frame, held in his left liand, and 
 called a " stick," which is adjusted to the 
 breadth of the column or page. When this 
 is full, it is deposited on a "galley," in a 
 long column. From this galley a pi-oof im- 
 prcsbicm is taken to be read by the author 
 and proof-reader. The inaccuracies are' 
 marked on this, and when corrected in the 
 type, the foreman " makes up his fonn." If 
 for a daily paper, this is done by screwing 
 the columns into the " turtle," w liich is fas- 
 tened upon the revolving cylinder of the 
 press. When the type has been printed 
 from or worked off', it is immediately washed 
 in a strong alkali, to clear it from the ink. 
 If this is not done thoroughlv, it will not 
 print clear. Formerly this washing was 
 done with urine, but of late an alkali is 
 substituted. The clean typo has now to be 
 " distributed," or put back into the cases. 
 For this purpose the compositor takes the 
 " matter" in his left hand, reads a line, and 
 drops each letter into its appropriate place. 
 This occupies a good deal of time. 
 
 Most of this type setting and distributing 
 is still (lone by hand up to the present time, 
 although the greatest efforts have been 
 made to introduce machinery. A number of 
 type-setting machines have been invented, 
 and many of them work well in the setting of 
 the type — the operator working upon keys, 
 like those of a piano, with the copy before 
 him. The arrangement is such that, by 
 touching the proper kc}-, the appropriate 
 letter falls into lino, and the work goes on 
 rapidly and well, even to the punctuation. 
 The difficulty not yet overcome, and which 
 is an obstacle to its usefulness, is that no 
 means of "justifying" have been discov- 
 ered — that is, of breaking the linos into 
 the suitable length, and " spacing" them out 
 so that each line shall have the exact length 
 of all the rest. This is done by the hand 
 compositor, with great nicety, in his iron 
 stick, as his work progresses. As this must 
 still be done by hand, after the machine has 
 set up the type, no great advantage is de- 
 rived from its action. In type distributing 
 more success has been obtained. The ma- 
 
300 
 
 chine is so constructed that it will distribute 
 12,000 cms per hour with unerring accuracy, 
 and one man may tend three macliincs ; 
 hence he will distribute, by its aid, 30,000 
 ems per hour, while a p;ood workman by 
 hand will only distribute 3,000 ems. This 
 seems very desirable, but a new difficulty 
 presents itself. The machine cannot read, 
 so as to distinjTuish one letter from another, 
 and it is guided in its selection by the 
 "nicks." It follows, that no two of the 
 twenty-four letters of the alphabet should 
 have the same " nicks ;" consequently, a 
 special kind of type must be cast for the 
 macliine. They are then put into it in 
 a mass, and present themselves alternately 
 until the proper " nick" i^oes through. The 
 advantages of the machine do not overcome 
 its disadvantages. 
 
 In book work the type is not hurried from 
 the compositor to the pressman, as in the 
 case of the daily papers. There is more time, 
 and the type itself is, therefore, not usually 
 printed from, but it is stereotyped. This 
 was introduced in America about the j'ear 
 1817, by Mr. G. Bruce, the father of the in- 
 ventor of the type-casting machine. 
 
 In this process, the type being locked 
 up in the form, which usually contains i) to 6 
 paces, and carefully revised and corrected, is 
 sent to the stereotyper. 
 
 Stcrc'ityping is the mode of casting per- 
 fect fac-siniiles, in metal, of the face of 
 movable types. The plan is simple. After 
 arranging the typo in pages, and getting it 
 perfectly smooth and clean, it is placed in a 
 frame, the surface being thoroughl)' oiled, 
 to prevent the mould from adhering, when 
 liquid gypsum, or plaster-of-Paris, is poured 
 over the page. The mould, thus taken, if 
 found peifect, is dressed with a sharp in- 
 strument, and is then ready to receive the 
 metal. It is then put into an iron cast- 
 ing-box, and the \\hiilc immersed in liipiid 
 tvpe metal. Twenty to thirty minutes usu- 
 ally suffice for casting. The box is then 
 swung out of the molten mass into a cool 
 ing-trough, in which the under side is ex- 
 posed to the water. When hard, the caster 
 breaks off the superfluous metal, and sepa- 
 rates the plaster mould from the plate. It is 
 then picked, the edges trimmed, the back 
 fihaveil to a proper thickness, and made 
 ready for the press. 
 
 The process of electrotyping lias, of late, 
 become an important element, and is in many 
 cases pi'cferred to the old .system of stereo- 
 
 typing. It results from the disposition of 
 copper, held in solution, to deposit itself on 
 a metal surface, when under the influence of 
 magnetism. 
 
 htere.. typing by the Electrotype process 
 is conducted as follows : An impression ia 
 taken from the corrected forms or engraved 
 block upon a plate of wax, and finely pul- 
 verized iilumbago is then dusted thiidy over 
 the surface of the wax. The excess is blown 
 away in a machine contrived for this pur- 
 pose, and the fine dust remains uniformly in 
 contact with the wax in every little depres- 
 sion and line, without filling these up. The 
 object of the plumbago is to act as the con- 
 ducting medium for the galvanic current, 
 until a film of copper is deposited. But by 
 a recent modification of the process, this 
 film is also produced before the article is 
 put into the trough, by the application of 
 a wash of sulphate of copper, (solution of 
 blue viljiol,) and dusting over it fine iron 
 filings. The solution is decomposed by the 
 iron, and metallic copper is immediai.ely 
 precipitated, forming a delicate film which 
 uniformly covers the whole surface. The 
 wa.x plate rela!ning this film is well washed, 
 and is then ready for the galvanic trough. 
 In this it is left over night under the influ- 
 ence of the electric current, and in the 
 moriung when taken out, the coating of cop- 
 per is foimd to be sullicientl}' thick for hand- 
 ling. The wax is removed, and the copper 
 sheet, fii'st tinned on the back, is placed fiice 
 down in an apparatus in which it is covered 
 with melted type metal. Thus backed a 
 plate i- obtained, which, after being dressed 
 by planing and squaring, is screwed down 
 upon a ni.aliogany block, the height of the 
 whole being the same as that of type. 
 
 Plata's for use upon the cylinders of print- 
 ing machines are made with the curve of the 
 cylinders, the forms themselves in which the 
 tvpe are paged having a convex surface, 
 which gives them the name of " turtles." 
 
 In making copper faced type, ordinary 
 types are set in a fiame so arranged as to 
 let only the letter end in the copper solution 
 of the battery. The deposit of copper ad- 
 heres to this end, which it conqiletely covers. 
 .Such tvpe are now extensively used in large 
 establishment-!, and are very durable. 
 
 Within the past twelve years, several pro- 
 cesses have been invented, for copying ])rint- 
 ed books, steel and wood engravings, maps, 
 etc., by photography upon stone or hardened 
 wax or metallic surfaces and by etching, or 
 
NEWSrAPEUS — DAILIES — WEEKLIES— PERIODICALS. 
 
 301 
 
 the use of acids, transforming these copies 
 into matrices from wliich plates could be 
 ca -t analogous to stereotype or electrotype 
 plates. These processes, of which Osborne's 
 Photolithographic, the Heliotype, the Alber- 
 type, anil jewctt's and Mor>e's Cerographic 
 processes are those best known, have reached 
 various stages of perfection, but are undoubt- 
 
 I edly destined to be of great service in some 
 
 departments of the printing art. One of 
 1 the finest specimens of this kind of work, 
 ' was the fac-simile edition of Albert Durer's 
 
 " Little Passion," copied from William C. 
 
 Prime. Esq., by Mr. Julius Bien, a New 
 
 York Ai'tist." 
 
 l^EWSPAPERS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 KEWSPAPERS— DAILIE.S— WEEKLIES- 
 EIODIOALS. 
 
 -PE- 
 
 The power and circulation of the daily 
 press are among the marvels of the present 
 day, and they are features peculiarly Ameri- 
 can. No country presents such a number 
 of news publications, and none such a uni- 
 versal popular demand for them. This re- 
 sult has been obtained mostly in the last 
 twenty-five years, by a combination of 
 causes. The two leading ones, are the intro- 
 duction of the cheap press and the inven- 
 tion of the means of so multiplying num- 
 bers, that much interesting matter can be 
 sold for a little money. Take a leading 
 mcirning daily. This is equal to a book of 
 more than ino solid octavo pages, sold to 
 the retailer for one and a half cents every 
 morning, no profit being derived from the 
 sale. This has become possible only through 
 the ability to produce a \ast number on 
 one hand, and through the immense re- 
 ceipts for advertising on the other. By the 
 introduction of a cheap press, is not to be 
 understood the mere printing of a mass of 
 matter for a small price, Init the introduction 
 of such matter as attracts the attention of 
 persons not previously habitual readers, and 
 exciting in them so strong an interest as to 
 make papers for the future a necessity. It is 
 this which has been done by the cheap press. 
 
 The first newspapers of tlio country were 
 hardly worth the name. In the colonies 
 there was little of interest to draw public 
 attention, and sucli papers as the Spectator 
 and Tattler came across the water to meet 
 the literary taste of the more wealthy, while 
 the jealous care of the mother country 
 watched over the colonial papers, lest they 
 
 should breed sedition. Dr. Franklin informs 
 us that the first start he got in life was 
 through the misfortune of his brother, who 
 owned the paper on wliicli he was an appren- 
 tice, in incurring the displeasure of the gov- 
 ernment for disrespectful remarks. The pa- 
 per was suspended, as Paris papers are at the 
 present day, and Benjamin's indentures were 
 cancelled in order that he might become the 
 nominal owner. The editor of the Boston 
 Cotirant, in 1732, made his valedictory to 
 the public, because he found it too vexatious 
 to be running with his proof in his pocket 
 to the government house, and the new editor 
 promised to do the best he could under the 
 circumstances. There were few subjects 
 then to interest the general reader, and the 
 restricted state of industry allowed but little 
 range for advertising. The paper was poor, 
 and mostly imported at a liigli price from 
 England, while the laborious work of a man 
 through the live-long night on the presses of 
 the day, gave but a few liundred to circulate 
 in the morning, and these few were to be 
 sold at a rate that must cover all the expen- 
 ses — that is to say, for more than they were 
 worth. 
 
 The first daily paper published in the 
 United States, was the Pennsylvania Packet 
 or General Advertiser, started as a weekly, by 
 John Dunlap, in 1771, and merged into a 
 daily in 1784, at the peace. To one of the 
 conductors of the paper. Washington gave 
 the manuscript of his " Farewell Address," 
 and which, at a sale made in lis.Jo, was pur- 
 chased by Mr. Lennox, of New York, for 
 82,000. The first form in which printed 
 news appeared in England was that of dog- 
 gerel ballads, which were issued as early as 
 the reign of Queen Mary. These were fol- 
 lowed by occasional sheets, or pamphlets, of 
 
302 
 
 NEWSPAPERS. 
 
 news; but the first appioacli to a regular 
 newspaper was the Weekly Neivesfruin Italy, 
 Germanie, rfr., May 23, 1(1'.'2, which was con- 
 tinued, with some variations of title and oc- 
 casional intermissions, until 1640. The ear- 
 liest specimen of parliamentary reportiiifr is 
 entitled, The Diurnal Occurrences or Daily 
 Proceedings of Both Houses in this Great 
 and Happy Parliament, from Zd November, 
 1640, to 'Ad November,' KjH. More than 
 one hundred newspapers, with different 
 titles, appear to have been published between 
 this date and tlie death of Charles!., and up- 
 ward of eiijhty others bL'twcen that event 
 and the Itestoration. Occasional papers 
 were issued after the civil war began, limited 
 to local or special occurrences, as News from 
 Hull, Truths from York, Tidings frojti Ire- 
 land. The more rcLjuIar newspapers were 
 published weekly at first, then twice or tlirieu 
 in a week. The impatience of the people 
 soon led to the publii\ition of daily papers ; 
 and Spalding, the Aberdeen annalist, men- 
 tions that in December, 1642, dailv papers 
 came from London, called Diurnal Occur- 
 rences, declaiing what was done in Parliament. 
 In the Scottish campaign of 1650, the army 
 of Charles and that of Oliver Cromwell each 
 carried its printer along with it to report 
 progress, and, of course, to exaggerate suc- 
 cesses. It is from this circumstance that the 
 first introduction of newspapers into Scotland 
 has been attributed to r)liver Cromwell. 
 
 The stirring events of the American Revo- 
 lution in like manner gave a great impulse to 
 printing; but that took the form of pamph- 
 lets and circulars more than that of the peri- 
 odical press. The event made the press free, 
 and it began a now career; but the habits of 
 the people had not been overcome, nor were 
 the means of popularizing the press yet in 
 existence. Nevertheless, politics became the 
 staple of newspapers, which were started in 
 most sections as the organs of parties and to 
 support candidates for office ; as a matter of 
 course these were re.ad mostly by those who 
 were of the same way of tliinking. The cir- 
 culation could never reacli a point that would 
 make it profitable of itself, because the limit 
 was the power of the press to work the papers. 
 In the great cities the chief support of the 
 press was the advertising patronai;-e, bestow- 
 ed in some degree in the linht of political 
 support. The foreign news and domestic 
 items of intelligence maile up the general 
 interests, with ship news, that began after the 
 war of 1812 to have a more extended char- 
 
 acter. These papers, published at $10 per 
 annum, did not much interest the mass of 
 people, beyond whose reach the price for the 
 most part placed them ; advertising patron- 
 age and government "pap" were therefore 
 the sources looked to for profit. These pa- 
 pers were seldom left in families, but were 
 caiTied home by those who took ihem at 
 their places of business. The papers of the 
 early part of the century were very meagre 
 The oldest existing papers of New York are 
 the Commercial Advertiser, founded in 1797, 
 and the Evening Post, in 1801. The rival- 
 ry among the papers of the day was not so 
 much to interest the general reading public, 
 as to conciliate those commercial interests on 
 the patronage of which the means of the paper 
 mostly depended. The Commcixial Gazette, 
 of New York, became a leading journal 
 through the enterprise of its editor in col- 
 lecting ship news. He himself rowed a boat, 
 boarding vessels coming up the bay, to col- 
 lect reports with which he enriched his col- 
 umns. Other ])apers soon followed his ex- 
 ample. In 1827, the New York Journal oj 
 Commerce was started, chiefiy by Arthur 
 Tappan, Esq., of Boston, and David Hale, 
 then an auctioneer in Boston, was made joint 
 editor with Mr. Halloek, of New Haven. 
 About the same time, two papers were uni- 
 ted in the Neio York Courier find Enquirer, 
 under James Watson Webb. These two 
 papers employed news schooners to furnish 
 ship news at great expense. 'J'his enterprise 
 was jiroraotod by the introduction of a Na- 
 pier press, w hich allowed of an increased cir- 
 culation of larger sized papers, and these 
 became filled with advertising as the specu- 
 lative years that exploded with ]8-i7 came 
 on. The success of these two rival papers, 
 was fatal to the odier old papers. The Mer- 
 cantile Advertiser, by Butler ; the Daily Ad- 
 vertiser, by Dwight and Townsend, and the 
 Commercicd Gazette, hy Lang, which had long 
 flourished, died out. Several other papers 
 followed, among wliich was the New York 
 American, an evening paper, edited by Chas. 
 King, E?q. At that period cheap news- 
 papers, fast presses, telegraph and express 
 comp.anies made their appearance a 1 to- 
 getiier, to work out by mutual aid the mar- 
 vels that we have since witnessed. The 
 first penny pajier was published by Benja- 
 min H. Day, in 1833. It was about ten 
 inches square, and sold for one cent, or to 
 newsboys for sixty-two and a half cents per 
 hundred. It was without editoriids, but was 
 
NliWSPAlMCRS DAILIES WEEKLIES PERIODICALS. 
 
 303 
 
 filled with news items. It grew rapidly to 
 a largo circulation, and aaiulring adveriise- 
 moat<, swelled into a largtT sheet, wiiicli got 
 into the hands of I\Ii-. l5e:ich. Mr. M. Y. 
 lieacli and his son, M-. M. S. Pieaeh, con- 
 dueied it almost entirely as a local paper, 
 with no particular political cliaractcr, but 
 with a very large circulation (fi' 1,(00 to 
 7(),0i)0) up to 18G7. Mr. M. Y. Bi'ach was 
 famous for having " many irons in the fire " 
 at the same time, and besides the Sii/i, had 
 a manufactory, two banks, and sundry otlier 
 enterprises on foot. During and after the 
 war, the circulation of the Snii had decreased, 
 (its price being advanced to two cents u- 
 that of the other morning papers hid been 
 to four) and in 18G7 it had only aboit 48,()0a 
 purchasers. A compaay of capitalists and 
 literary men, among whom were Jlr. Cha>. 
 A. Dana, previoudy of (he Nl'i9 York Tii- 
 biiii? and the Ciiicujo Ji'pub'.ican, Mr. M. 
 S. Beach. Mr. Hitclifock, fui-nierly of the 
 New J.'Tusidi'.m Messenger, ]Mi\ I. \V. Eng- 
 land, and others, in 1 807 purchased the Sun 
 and til '. olil Tanim any ILi:e!, an 1 fitting up 
 the latter in fine s yle, removed tlie pajjer 
 to its new quarter-, and very greatly chang- 
 ed its character. Its circulation fell off to 35,- 
 OJ I, a id thei began to ri-e till it exceeded 
 one hundred thou and, and h is maintained 
 itself at about that point for more than a 
 year past. It lias now a large editorial 
 corps, an 1 in all its apiointmnnts is perhaps 
 th ■ ino-t complete newspaper office in the 
 world. In our illustrations we have pre- 
 sented some of the appliances by means of 
 which the edition of a hundred thousand 
 copies, admirably printed, are flung off, in 
 the space of a little more than three hours 
 each morning. 
 
 But to return to our history of newspapers. 
 In 1835, .lames Gordon Heniiett, previously 
 one of the editorial staff of the Cunrier and 
 Enquirer, started the Neto York Herald, on 
 a capital of SoOO, but with a most indom- 
 itable energy. His first weeks expenses 
 were $.')6. At the end of thirty seven years 
 they are from $20,000 to $3ii,iioO per week. 
 The price of the paper at first was one cent 
 per copy. It was advanced soon to two 
 cents, and during the war to four, at which , 
 pri -e it has since remained. The circulation • 
 of the paper increased rapidly but steiulily, 
 till it reached 70,000 to 80,000 co|)ies, oc- 
 casionally going even higher tiian this. The 
 sheet has been repeatedly enlarged, and is 
 
 now a very large double sheet with frequent 
 sujiidements, making it triple or quadruple. 
 It has never had any great political influ- 
 ence, its aim being to keep on the popular 
 side, whichever that might l)e, and its edito- 
 rial columns have not indicated any remarkar 
 ble ability ; but it has been very enterpris- 
 ing' its market and financial reports, its vast 
 and varied correspondence from all parts of 
 the world, and its very full and generally 
 ai'curate reports of public meetings of all 
 sorts, speeches, lectures, addresses, and ser- 
 mons, have been features wliirh have ensured 
 it a great circulation. It would have been 
 impo-silde, however, for it to have attained 
 this, had not tlie improvements in printing 
 machines made it possible to niultijily copies 
 at the rate of 2.j,l)()0 to 30,000 per hour. 
 Soon after the war commenced, the Herald, 
 followed speedily by the oth -r morning p.a- 
 pers, resorted to the plan of stereotyping the 
 pages of its daily issue, in order to multiply 
 them more easi y. This could not have been 
 done by the old stereotyping process with 
 sufficient rapidity to be of any service, but 
 a method of siereotyping by means of papier 
 mache, or a material analagous to it, then 
 just invented, was rapid enough to answer 
 all purposes, and with this and Hoe's ten 
 cylinder printing machine, the proprietor of 
 the //e'ttW could piint fast enough for his 
 daily edition. Mr. Bennett died June 1,1872. 
 The New York Tribune was issued for 
 the first time in 1841. Horace Greeley, its 
 editor and fir-t proprietor had come to New 
 York in 1 831 as a printer, and had developed 
 remarkable talent as an editor, and political 
 writer He had projected several papers, 
 .some of them campaign papers of very large 
 circnlation ; for three or four j'ears previous 
 hi had been editing the Neio Yorker, a very 
 good but not a prolitable paper. He started 
 the Tribune with $1,000, mostly borrowed 
 money. In the thirty-one years since that 
 time, the paper has become a great power 
 in the nation. It has always been edited 
 with ability, and has been for about half 
 that time owned by a joint stock association, 
 but Mr. Greeley has been its chief editor 
 and master spirit. Always an active politi- 
 ci.an, first a Whig and afterwards a Republi- 
 can, he has made it from first to last a po- 
 litical paper ; and though at times differing 
 decidedly in opinion from his associates in 
 the party, its editor has always been rec- 
 ognized as one of its most valued leaders. 
 
soi 
 
 NEWSPAPERS DAILIES — W:!EKLIES- 
 
 "•ERIODICALS. 
 
 He has recently (in May, 1872) been noin- 
 inatiid for the Presidency by a convention 
 held at Cincinnati, and the nomination ad- 
 vocated by promiiient men of both political 
 parties, and has in consequence withdrawn 
 for the present from the editorial manage- 
 ment of his paper. The circulation of the 
 Daily Tribune is not so large as that of the 
 Sun or the Herald, though greater than that 
 of any other morning paper ; but the cir- 
 culation of the Weel-li/ Tribune is vastly 
 greater than that of any other political 
 weekly in the United States — -reaching in 
 some years li25,O00 copies weelily. A semi- 
 weekly edition is also printed. 
 
 The New York Times was founded in 
 1850, by Henry J. Raymond, who had pre- 
 viously been a writer on tlie staff of the 
 Tribune and the Courier and Enquirer. It 
 was some time in attaining to a jjrofitable 
 success, but for eighteen or nineteen years 
 past lias been one of the leading dailies of 
 ^'^ew York City. During Mr. Raymond's 
 life time it was edited with marked ability, 
 but since his deatli in 18G0, has hardly main- 
 tained its old reputation. 
 
 The World, (bunded in 18G0, by an Asso- 
 ciation with a large capital, as a IJepublican 
 and religious daily paper, met with several 
 changes in the course of the next two years, 
 and in 18G2 became a Democratic paper, in 
 which faith it has since continued. It is 
 very ably edited and has a circulation nearly 
 as large as that of the limes — about i!5,IJU0 
 of its daily edition. 
 
 Of the later ventures in the way of morn- 
 ing papers, in New York City, only the 
 Star has achieved any considerable success. 
 It has taken rank with the older dailies, 
 though it would be diliiculi to say why it 
 should have done so. 
 
 Several of the low priced evening papers 
 have been successfid. The Telegram, owned 
 and controlled by the son of the proprietor 
 of the Herald; tlie News, the Witness, a daily 
 religious ]iaper of decided ability, the Express, 
 and the Evening Mail have each a circu- 
 lation ranging from 10,nOit to 25,000. 
 
 Of course none of these papers are sup- 
 ported by their ,'-ul)scription lists or their 
 circulation. In the case of the larger sheets 
 this would hardly sullico to pay for the pa- 
 per on which they are printed, but these 
 extended circulations make them very valu- 
 able as advertising mediums, and they de- 
 rive so princely a revenue from their adver- 
 
 tiscmeiits, llhit in favorable years the net 
 income from the Herald and the Tribune has 
 reached $200,000 or $250,000 per annum, 
 and that of the Times and the World has 
 exceeded SliX),000 each. The Staats Zei- 
 tunfj, {State Gazette) a German daily paper, 
 has a circulation inferior proliably only to 
 those of the Herald and Sun. The Erening 
 Post, Commercial Advertiser, etc, though 
 printed as folios, and nut as quarto sheets, 
 have a very large advertising patronage, 
 mostly from the shipping and wholesale nier- 
 chant-i, book publishers, etc. The adver- 
 tisements in the morning papers are, to a 
 large extent, fresh advertisements daily, re- 
 ceived and paid f^ir the previous da}'. Those 
 of the evening papers are, many of them, 
 les-i frequen:ly changed. Tlio advertisements 
 of the morning papers belong to the day on 
 which thi'y appear, and conipo-e a part of 
 the life and the news thereof, like any 
 other matter in the paper — to many peo|)le 
 mcjre interesting and more imponant. No 
 portion of a great metropolitan journal, then, 
 is dead matter; even the advertising col- 
 umns, which many suppose to be dull and 
 tedious, are full of life and interest, and fresh 
 every day. It is amusing to contrast such 
 a ]iaper with the Philadelpkia Gazette of 
 1750, then conducted by Benjamin Frank- 
 lin. \ii dimensions are about eiglit by ten. 
 The news an 1 reading matter which it con- 
 tains, could all be put into one of the pages 
 of this b<jok. It /his not a single line of edi- 
 torial. Its latest foreign news was about 
 three or four months old. Its domestic news 
 principally relate<l to the Indians. Among 
 its advertisements were several notices of 
 the sale of negroes in Pennsylvania. The 
 progress of the newspaper art is well illus- 
 trated by comparing this sheet with those 
 issued in our large cities at the present day. 
 At first the extension of this circulation 
 of the city newspapers was greatly facilita- 
 ted by the expresses which received the 
 packagi's as they came from the press for 
 the larger to\s'ns and cities, and hurried them 
 out to the dealers, liut very soon there was 
 found a necessity of an intermediate agency 
 which could make for itself a vast bu-iness 
 while at the same time it saved expense to 
 the dealers in other cities, towns and villages, 
 and the news companies came into existence. 
 There bad been several houses each with its 
 considerable circle of customers, which dis- 
 patched to their several customers a dailyi 
 
NEWSPAPERS DAILIES WEEKLIES PEHIODICALS. 
 
 SOS 
 
 tri-week!y, or semi-weekly package of tlie 
 literary papers and periodicals, together with 
 such Looks and stationery as might be sent 
 in to them to pack. Most of these dealers 
 in New York City united and formed the 
 Anieiican News Company, which soon sup- 
 plied its customers with all that they required 
 from its own vast stock, and giving its or- 
 ders daily for such cpuintities of tlie daily 
 papers as it required for its customers, hur- 
 ried these to its bioad shelves, packed them 
 with the other goods ordered, and sent them 
 in quantities of.en of many tons by tlie morn- 
 ing trains and cxpres-es, with all of which 
 it had arrangiments, to its thousands of ciis- 
 tomei-s in all direi-lions. Its business grew 
 till it took from 2.JO,000 to SdO.OOO copies 
 of Honner's Ledrjer and half as many of 
 some of the other popular literary and illus- 
 trated papers, oOjOuO or -in,!,!!!!) copies of 
 t!ie Independent, and enormous quantities of 
 tlie Sunday papers, whole editions of popn- 
 lar books and pamphlet-^, 'JO,iiOO or 100,000 
 of Harper's Monthhj, etc., etc. In process 
 of time, other news companies were organ- 
 ized in New York, and a gigantic one at 
 Cliicago, and tlie business was divided to 
 some extent, but tlie American News Co. 
 has still a vast business. An attempt was 
 ra.ade a few years ago to furnish the New 
 York morning papers at the breakfast hour 
 to all customers on railroad routes within a 
 radius of two humlred miles or more around 
 the city. This was accomplished by arrang- 
 ing a special express train to start out on 
 each road at about two o'clock each morn- 
 ing, taking all the papers which were printed 
 up to that time, driving with ail speed to 
 the ra Iroad, throwing them on the train and 
 mailing up the packages on board, throwing 
 them out at each point to an agent as the 
 train sliot by, till the farthest limit of morn- 
 ing disirihutiou was reached. The plan 
 proved practicable, but loo expensive to pay 
 at first, and it was dropped. 
 
 The sale of papers at the steamboats and 
 in the cars has become a large business, and 
 the privilege of doing so is now farmed out 
 by the companies. The privilege is paid 
 for at rates sometimes as high as S-',000 per 
 annum on good routes, say some of the best 
 tra\eled in New York. The dealer employs 
 boys wiio start with the out trains in tlie 
 mornhig, supplying all who go. These trains 
 meet others, in an hour's ride, coming in, 
 filled not only with passengers from a dis- 
 
 tance, but with persons who, doing business 
 in the city, commute on the road, and come 
 in every day ; all of them are anxious for the 
 pa])ei's, and they are sold at a large advance 
 on the cost ; the four cent papers usually at 
 from five to ten cents; the >even cent pa- 
 pers at ten or twelve, and the two cent pa- 
 pers at three to five cents, thus yielding the 
 veiKlor a liandsome profit. 
 
 The Sundav press has become a feature in 
 New York within twenty years. The first 
 Sunday paper was the Siindny Morning 
 News, pulilished in 1835, by Samuel Jeuks 
 Smith. It had a considerable success, but 
 stop|ied on the death of Mr. Smith. In 
 1840, the Atlas was started liy Ilerrick, 
 Ropes & West. The last-named had been a 
 reporter on the Herald. The paper had a 
 great success, and is still flourish ng. Tho 
 Sunday Mercury was next started, and re- 
 ceived a great impulse from the '■ Patent 
 Sermims " of Dow, jr. Then followed the 
 Sundcy Times, the Dispatch, and others, 
 which have attained much success. 
 
 The circulation of the New York dailies 
 is now (1872) more than 500,iiiiO copies, 
 against 10,000 in 1835. In 18G5, there 
 were o07 newspapers and periodicals pub- 
 lished in the city of New York (073 in the 
 state) of wliich -21 were dailies, with an ag- 
 gregate circulation of 425,000 copies daily, 
 8 femi-weekly with a reported circulation of 
 about 75,itOO; 223 weekly of which 42 had 
 an aggregate circulation of 1,587,5(J0; 11 
 semi-monthly and 1 18 monthly; 11 of tho 
 monthlies reported a circulation in the ag- 
 gregate of 337,0»0. These returns are so 
 incomplete as to be of very little value, and 
 those of the census of 1870 which give the 
 aggregate of the newspapers published in 
 the state at 4'J2.770,8t>8 for the year are 
 very far below the truth. It is certain that 
 more than 375,000,000 newspapers are 
 printed in New York City every year, aside 
 from magazines, reviews, and quarterly pe- 
 riodicals. 
 
 The weekly papers are of several classes. 
 Those devoted to light literature have the 
 largest circulation. Bonner's New York 
 Ledger leads in this class, maintaining a 
 weekly circulation (mainly through the 
 American News Co., and a large subscription 
 list) of about 400,000 copies. Street tf 
 Smith's Weekly boasts of a circulation of 
 about 300,000 ; Harpers' Illustrated Weeicly 
 from 130,000 to 150,000, and Harpai 
 
3^6 
 
 NEWSPAPERS DAILIES WEEKLIES PERIODICALS. 
 
 Bazar nearly 100,000 ; the Mercury, Frank 
 Leslie's 1 liistral' d Paper, the Fireside Com- 
 panion, tlie Cliimncij Corner, and Moore's 
 Jiural Neio Yorker, range from 75,000 to 
 100,000, and the numbor of papers of this 
 class, ranging from 40,000 to 70,000 is large. 
 
 The religious papers have also attained a 
 large circulation within a few years past. 
 The Clirislian Union now takes the lead 
 with a circulation of about 100,000 ; (he - 
 Independinl comes next with nearly 75,000 ; 
 while the Observer, Examiner and Clironiclc, 
 Franr/c/ist, Advocate, Metropolitan liccord, 
 and Methodist, range between 25,0u0 and 
 50,000 each. 
 
 There arc also several scientific and ni's- 
 cellaneous journals, such as the Scientific 
 American, Hearth and Home, Railroad Jour- 
 nal, etc., elc., which have a large clientage 
 ranging from 25,000 to 50,000. 
 
 In other cities there are also some in- 
 stances of great success. The Ledyer of 
 Philadelphia has a daily circulat'on as large 
 or larger than that of the Smi, but no other 
 daily in that city exceeds 30,000. 'I he Sat- 
 urday Niyld, a weekly literary paper, has a 
 circulation of over 200,000, but none of the 
 other literary papers of that city exceed 
 100,000. 
 
 Of daily papers in other cities, the Tri- 
 bune and the Times, both of Chicago, the 
 Journal, the Traveller and the Transcript of 
 Boston, the Commercial, the Gazette, the 
 Chronicle, and the Enquirer of Cincinnati, 
 the Republican and the Democrat of St. 
 Louis, the American a'ld the Gazette of Bal- 
 timore, the Courier-Journal of Louisville, 
 and the Republican of Springfield, Mass., 
 are those of largest circulation. Some of 
 the political weeklies of other cities have a 
 very large circulation. The Toledo Blade, 
 Toledo, Ohio, has a circulation i-auging from 
 80,000 to 100,000, and Pommy's Democrat. 
 before its removal to New York, had about 
 100,000. All the papers of large circulation 
 which depend to any extent upon their sub- 
 scription lists, use folding machines and di- 
 recting machines which save a vast amount 
 of hand labor. 
 
 The following statistics of American Jour- 
 nalism, drawn irom the census of 1870, will 
 interest all our readers. The whole number 
 of newspapers and jieriodicals in the United 
 States, is 5,8 15, to which are to be added 
 73 for the Territories, 35-} more are printed 
 in the Dominion of Canada, and 2'J in the 
 
 other Briti-h Colonies, making a total for 
 the L^nited States and British America of 
 6,30' • periodicals. Of those published in 
 the United States, there are : 
 
 Daily, 574 
 
 Triweekly lOT 
 
 Semi-weekly llo 
 
 Weekly, 4,'J70 
 
 Semi-monthly, 9fS 
 
 Monthly, 621 
 
 IJi-monhily, 13 
 
 Quarterly, 49 
 
 Total, 5,845 
 
 Of this immen-e aggregate, 79 papers, 
 ranging from weekly to quaiterly, aie [)nb- 
 lished only lor advertisin;; purposes. Sub- 
 tracting these as not fairly to be counted 
 among the publications which illustrate the 
 journalistic enierprise of the n.ation, we have 
 5,7G6 newspapers and jieriodicals in the 
 counirj' — an average of one to about (),500 
 of the population. The whole number is 
 distributed among various interests as fol- 
 lows ; 
 
 Political, 4,328 
 
 Afrriculture and Horticulture, 93 
 
 renevoient and Secret Societie.'', 81 
 
 Commercial and Financial. 122 
 
 Illustrated. Literary, and Miscellaneous, 502 
 
 Specially devoted to Nationality, 30 
 
 1 echnical and Professional, 207 
 
 Keligious, 407 
 
 Sporting, 6 
 
 The political papers are divided into 
 C,5G0 weekly, 552 daily, 101 tri-wcekly, 100 
 semi-weekly, 8 semi-monthly, and C monthly. 
 The religious papers are di\ideil as follows : 
 Weekly, 208 ; semi-monthly, 40 ; monthly, 
 141 ; bi-monthly, 1 ; quarterly, 17. There 
 are three daily scientific or professional 
 newspajHrs ; the remainder, 204, range from 
 weekly to quarterly, there being 130 month- 
 ly. 'Ihe literary and illustrated papers run 
 the entiie g.'imiit, from 8 daily to 7 quarterly, 
 with 303 weekly and 157 monthly. There 
 are 8 daily commercial or financial papers, 
 5G weekly and 40 monthly. Agricultural 
 papers : weekly, 35 ; semi-monthly, 2 ; 
 monthly, 56. Of the "sporting" papers, 5 
 are weekly and 1 monthly. 
 
 Turning to the vital question of circulation, 
 we iind the facts of special intere-t, and can 
 best exhibit them, perhaps, by the following 
 table, in which we give the number of ei'.ch 
 class with the aggregate and average circula- 
 tion : 
 
 Political, 4,3;iS 
 
 A-jricullural, 
 
 Societies, 
 
 Financial, 
 
 Literary, 
 
 National, 
 
 Scientific or Professional, 
 
 Uclijcious, 
 
 I Sporting 
 
 No. 
 
 Circulation. 
 
 Average. 
 
 S'.i.S 
 
 8,778.320 
 
 2,0-28 
 
 93 
 
 710,752 
 
 8,072 
 
 Bl 
 
 257,080 
 
 3,173 
 
 122 
 
 690.200 
 
 5,657 
 
 502 
 
 4,421.935 
 
 8,808 
 
 '.() 
 
 45,150 
 
 2.157 
 
 20- 
 
 741,531 
 
 3, .596 
 
 4117 
 
 4,704,rS3 
 
 11,706 
 
 6 
 
 73,600 
 
 12,250 
 
INTERIOR VIEW OF THE N. T. StJN PRINTING ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 EDITORIAL ROOM. 
 
 tuJH0^1.\'j I.CIUM — htlllMJ Ul' TVI'E. 
 
PRESS HUUM. 
 
 STEHEOTYPING ROOM. 
 
NUWSrArKUS dailies WKEKLIES PERIODICALS. 
 
 307 
 
 Tlie aggregate circulalion of daily jia- 
 pers in the United States is 2,606,-')47 ; 
 averas^e circulation. 4.;)41. The weekly 
 paptTs circulate 111,591,743 copies, with an 
 average of "2, i80. 
 
 The total annual circulation of newspapers 
 printed in the State of New York is 4'J2,- 
 770,«G8 copies, being more than twice tlie 
 niimbL-r issued in any o;lier State. The next 
 greatest niuiiber of is-ues is in Pennsylva- 
 nia, where •2i3,3.S0,a32 copies are animally 
 printed. Mass. chusetts prints l()7,(!iil.",).J2 
 copies, Illinois 102,G8G,-2U4, Ohio, 93,.j'J2,- 
 
 448. Next comes California, with 45,8G9,- 
 408 newspaper sheets per annum. 
 
 The following table shows the average 
 circulation of newspapers and periodicals in 
 eacii S ate and Territory, and the Colonies 
 of British America ; the total annual circula- 
 tion, and the average niinil)er of copies 
 printed yearly for each inhabitant. This 
 is not a sure indication of the relative num- 
 l)er of readers in each State, as i he leading 
 papers in large cities arc largely circulated 
 outside the State where piinted: 
 
 states, Territories, &c. ATcrajo Circulation. 
 
 AlaKima 1 ,i>;^) 
 
 Arkansas 6:>0 
 
 Caliloriiia 1 ,S46 
 
 Comuvticut 3,000 
 
 Delaware 1 .-'47 
 
 District of Columbia, 4,323 
 
 yioriila 616 
 
 Georgia 1 .270 
 
 Illinois 2 907 
 
 Indiana, 1,490 
 
 Iowa I,ni3 
 
 Kansas 1 ,S28 
 
 Kentucky, 1 ,9U3 
 
 Louisiana 1 ,220 
 
 Maine, 2,2.<7 
 
 Maryland 2,077 
 
 Massaehnsetts 5.709 
 
 Michigan 1 ,ri54 
 
 Minnesota 1,121 
 
 Mississippi 753 
 
 Missonn 2,104 
 
 Nebraska 913 
 
 Nevada 51 S 
 
 New Hampshire, 2,194 
 
 New .Icr.--cy, 1 ,475 
 
 New York 7,411 
 
 North Carolina, 814 
 
 Ohio 3,154 
 
 Ore-on 1 ,3:.2 
 
 Pennsylvania 3,704 
 
 Kho;le" Island 2,489 
 
 South Carolina, 1 ,354 
 
 Tennessee, 1 ,747 
 
 Texas 701 
 
 Vermont, 2,528 
 
 Virginia 1,107 
 
 West Virginia, 842 
 
 Wisconsin 1,317 
 
 Territories 858 
 
 New Hrnnswick, Dominion of Canada, 1,750 
 
 Nova Scotia, Dmninion of Canada, 1,.334 
 
 Ontario, Dominion of Canada, 1,897 
 
 Quebec, Dominion ot Canada, 1 ,409 
 
 British Colonies, 640 
 
 Total Averasre 1 ,842 
 
 
 Averace No. of 
 
 Total Annual 
 
 copies printed Yearly 
 
 Circulation. 
 
 for each lahubitaat. 
 
 8,891,432 
 
 9 
 
 2,438,716 
 
 5 
 
 45,869,408 
 
 82 
 
 15,697,320 
 
 29 
 
 1,596 4sO 
 
 13 
 
 11,637,400 
 
 89 
 
 841,880 
 
 5 
 
 14,447,388 
 
 12 
 
 102,686,204 
 
 41 
 
 28,515,862 
 
 17 
 
 19,344,636 
 
 16 
 
 12,465,768 
 
 35 
 
 17,392,044 
 
 13 
 
 14,628,028 
 
 20 
 
 9,082,596 
 
 14 
 
 19,461,660 
 
 25 
 
 107,691,952 
 
 74 
 
 17 513.120 
 
 15 
 
 2,811,120 
 
 7 
 
 4,403,460 
 
 5 
 
 37,737,564 
 
 22 
 
 3,147,1:0 
 
 27 
 
 1,714,960 
 
 40 
 
 5,711,720 
 
 18 
 
 19,766,104 
 
 22 
 
 492,770,868 
 
 113 
 
 4,220,675 
 
 4 
 
 93,592,443 
 
 35 
 
 3,658,304 
 
 40 
 
 233,380,532 
 
 67 
 
 10,048,048 
 
 46 
 
 5,804.135 
 
 8 
 
 15,712.236 
 
 13 
 
 5,813,4'i2 
 
 7 
 
 4,486 9:4 
 
 14 
 
 13,790,788 
 
 12 
 
 3,372,668 
 
 8 
 
 20,577,.396 
 
 20 
 
 S,8.'9,121 
 
 13 
 
 8,961,808 
 
 12 
 
 3,818,784 
 
 10 
 
 33,757,528 
 
 17 
 
 21,812,560 
 
 15 
 
 1,499,922,219 
 
 35 
 
TELEGRAPHS-THEIR ORIGIN AND PROGRESS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 TELEGRAPHS— THEIK ORIGIN AND PROGRESS. 
 
 " Canst thou send Iifthtnin{;s that they may go, and say 
 unto thee, ' Here we are ".' " — Job. 
 
 The invention and use of electric tele- 
 graphs are among the most important of 
 modern improvements ; and it is somewhat 
 remarkable tliat the invention justifies the 
 trite observation, that great inventions are 
 made always at the moment they are wanted. 
 Telegrajjhs have been used from the re- 
 motest antiquity, by signals of various kinds ; 
 and one by flags, to signal the arrival of 
 vessels below, has been used during the )ires- 
 ent century in Boston ; and, in New York, 
 one operaling by arms has been used for 
 the same purjiose from the Narrows to the 
 roof of the Merchants' Exchange in New 
 York. The electric telegraph applied light- 
 ning to intelligence as steam was applied to 
 motion, and came into being to e.vceed, by 
 its rapidity of intelligence, the means just 
 invented to convey more rapidly by rail. 
 Indeed its action is necessary to the latter, 
 since it would be very difficult to operate 
 long lines of railroad, like the New York 
 Erie, and Central, without the aid of the 
 electric telegraph. 'Ihe patent of Morse, 
 who invented the first practical recording 
 telegraph, was taken out in the year 1840 ; 
 since then, numerous modes of recording have 
 been invented, and improvements adopted, 
 and there are now many systems in use, 
 although the Morse telegraph in its various 
 modifications, is generally emjiloyed in all 
 parts of the world for the general business 
 of telegraphing. 
 
 It is curious that just ninety years after 
 Dr. Franklin identifii'il lightning with elec- 
 tricity, by means of his kite, Morse should 
 have schooled electricity to send messages 
 instantaneously over wire at great distances. 
 We say instantaneously, because the ascer- 
 tained speed of electricity over wires with- 
 out resistance is 288,01)0 miles per second, 
 which is scarcely perceptible, although at that 
 
 rate it would take six minutes to send a 
 despatch to the sun. 
 
 This all-pervading element manifests it- 
 self in countless ways — in the sparkling of 
 animal hair ; in the rustling of silk, which 
 " betrays your poor heart to woman ;" in 
 the aurora that illumines the North ; in the 
 meteor that startles the astonished observer ; 
 it flashes in the lightning bolt that rives the 
 oak, without, while it gently penetrates into 
 the lady's ])arlor and fills her form, as she 
 glides over her warm, thick carpet, until the 
 metal tube of the gas burner will attract 
 enough from her fingers to ignite the gas, or 
 from her lips to startle a newly-entered 
 friend. It will also convey to her the thoughts 
 of <listant minds with more than the assiduity 
 of Puck, by means of the invention of 
 Morse. 
 
 Professor Morse was not the discoverer of 
 the analogy between magnetism and elec- 
 tricity, but he was the first who made prac- 
 ticable all former discoveries and improve- 
 ments in the production of a recording 
 telegraph. Tlio three leading properties of 
 electricity that make telegraphs possible, are, 
 first, its constant desire to seek an equilib- 
 rium, always going where there is less; 
 second, that the production of electricity is 
 always in two fluids, called positive and 
 negative, wliich possess a mutual attraction 
 for each other : third, that difi'erent substan- 
 ces have very different conducting ])owers — ■ 
 over some it passes with the utmost freedom, 
 while over others it will scarcely pass at all. 
 On this depends the possibility of telegraph- 
 ing, since by it the current of electricity may 
 1)0 arrested or conveyed at the will of the 
 operator. Mr. William Sturgeon of Lon- 
 don, discovered in 1S2.') that when a bar 
 of soft iron was ])lace<l wiihin a coil of con- 
 ducting wires it was rendered magnetic, and 
 and would so remain as long as the current 
 of electricity passed through the wires. The 
 telegraph consists in connecting two of these 
 magnets by a wire of any number of miloa 
 
k '.«^ 
 
 ^-v. 
 
 
 r 
 
 'a^-^^y /. ^^j. y72c'rj^ 
 
TELEGRAPHS THEin OIUGIN AND PR0GKES3. 
 
 S09 
 
 in leiigtli, and directing through it a current 
 from ;ui electric battery. By cutting oft' 
 tlie current, llie iron becomes alternately 
 charged and at rest with great rapidity, 'lo 
 form the current, it is necessary that the 
 wire should form a circuit, or that eacli end 
 of tlie wire should communicate with tlie 
 ground. The interruption is caused by 
 stopping this communication. The first 
 telegrapii invented by Professor Morse con- 
 sisted of an electro-magnet, formed by bend- 
 ing a small rod of iron in the form of a 
 horse-shi'e, upon which was wound a few 
 yards of copper wire insulated with cotton 
 thread. This magnet was then placed upon 
 the middle of a painter's sretching frame 
 for canvass, the bottom of whicli was nailed 
 to the edge of a common table. Across the 
 lower part of the frame was constructed a 
 narrow trough to hold three narrow cylin- 
 der of wood. A wooden clock was placed 
 at one end of this trough. The cylinder 
 next to the clock had a small pulley-wheel 
 fixed upon its prolonged axis, outside the 
 trough ; a smiilar pulley-wheel was fixed 
 upon the prolonged axis of one of tlie slower 
 wheels of the train of wlieels outside the 
 clock ; these two pulleywheels were con- 
 nected b"v' an endless cord or band. Upon 
 the cylinder fjirthest from the clock was 
 wound a ribbon of jjaper, which, when the 
 clock train was put in motion was gradually 
 unrolled and passing over the middle cylin- 
 der was rolled up upon the cylinder nearest 
 the clock by means of the cord and pulleys. 
 An A shaped pendulum was suspended 
 by its apex from the centre of the top of 
 the frame, directly above the centre of the 
 middle cylinder in the trough below. This 
 lever was made of two thin rules of woo<l 
 meeting at the top but opening downwards 
 about one inch apart and joined at the bot- 
 tom by a transverse bar (which was close to 
 the paper as it moved over the middle cylin- 
 der,) and another about one inch above it. 
 Through the centre of these two bars a 
 sm;dl tube was fixed through which a pencil 
 loosely played. The pencil had a small 
 weight upon its top to keep the [wint in con- 
 stant contact with the paper ribbon. Upon 
 the lever directly opposite to the poles of 
 the electro-m'agnet was fastened the arma- 
 ture of the magnet or a small bar of soft 
 iron. The movement of the lever was 
 guided by stops on the frame at the sides 
 of the lever, permitting it only a movement 
 forward to and back from the magnet ; the 
 
 pencil at the bottom of the lever was thus 
 allowed to advance when the magnet was 
 charged and to re reat when discharo-ed, 
 about one eighth of an inch. '1 he levcr^ad- 
 vanced by the attraction of the magnet and 
 was retracted by a weight or spring. 
 
 Tlie voltaic battery or generator (f elec- 
 tricity was connected by one of its poles to 
 one of the helices of the magnet while the 
 other pole was connected with a mercurj 
 cup; and a conjunctive wire ronnccied a 
 second mercury cup to the other helix of 
 the magnet. The circuit was closed I y dip- 
 ping a forked wire into the two cups of mer- 
 cury, when the magnet became charged, the 
 armature was attracted, and the lever <lrawn 
 toward the magnet. AVhen the forked wire 
 was removed the m.ignet was discharged 
 and the spring brought back the lever to its 
 normal position. When the clock work 
 was put in motion the ribbon of paper was 
 drawn over the middle cylinder and the 
 pencil attached to the lever being in con- 
 stant contact with the ribbon of pajier traced 
 a continuous line lengthwise with the ribbon. 
 
 The pathway of the pencil point, when 
 the lever was attracted towards and held by 
 the magnet for a longer or shorter time, 
 contains the three elements of points, sjiaces 
 and lines, forming by their various comlu- 
 nations, the various conventional characters 
 for numerals and letters. 
 
 Professor Morse subsequently modified 
 the form of his telegraph, although the [irin- 
 ciple upon which its action depended re- 
 mained substantially the same. In place of 
 the wooden cylinders operated by a wooden 
 clock for carrying the paper band at a regu- 
 lar rate, he employed small brass rollers 
 moved by means of mechanism analagous to 
 clock-work ; and instead of the armature 
 being attached to a wooden pendulum 
 which vibrated over the pa])er, he attached 
 it to one end of a brass lever sustained in a 
 horizontal position by two pivots, the other 
 end of the lever being armed with a 
 steel point. Under the soft iron armature 
 at one end of the lever was placed an 
 electro-magnet, while the steel point at 
 the other end of the lever, was beneath the 
 roller which carried the band of paper. 
 Now when the circuit is closed — that is 
 completed — the armature of the electro- 
 magnet is attracted through the magnetism 
 created in the helix by the jiassage of the 
 electric current, and this attraction causes 
 the point of the pen to touch the paper and 
 
310 
 
 TELEGRAPHS — THEIE ORIGIN AND PROGRESS. 
 
 to trace upon it a line the length of which 
 depends upon the duration of time in which 
 the circuit remains whole. If the circuit is 
 opencil the current ceases to flow, tlie mag- 
 netism disappears instantly and a spring at- 
 taclied to the lever draws it away from the 
 papsr and the line ceases. By opening and 
 closing the. circuit rapidly dots are produced 
 upon the paper the number of wliicli de- 
 pends upon the number of times that the 
 circuit is broken and closed. If the circuit 
 is closel for a longer time a dash or a short 
 line is mide upon the paper. We liave thus 
 the combinations of au alphabet of dots and 
 lines. Thus a is a dot and a dash, b a dash 
 and three dots, &c. The alphabet is so ar- 
 ranged that those letters occurring most fre- 
 quently are more easily transmitted; thus e 
 is one d^t; t one dash. An expert operator 
 can transmit from thirty to forty words a 
 minute by this instrument on a land line of 
 200 or 'i'M miles in length. 
 
 Tiie transmitting apparatus is very simple, 
 being designed only for the opening and 
 closing of the circuit in a manner more easy 
 than by holding the ends of the wire in the 
 hands, as is done where there is no appara- 
 tus. The two ends of wire are separated 
 by two pieces of metal, one of wliich is a 
 brass lever surmounted by an ivory button, 
 and the other is a brass anvil tipped with 
 platinim. The brass lever is mounted upon 
 pivots, in front of the axis of wliieh is sol- 
 dered a nipple of platinum, which by the 
 depression of the lever comes in contact 
 with the platinum tipped anvil, and thus 
 closes the circuit. 
 
 To the Morse system at a later period, 
 was added the '' sounder," a simple contri- 
 vance, by which signals are conveyed by 
 sound. Up to 18.50 the operator reail the dis- 
 patch from slips of paper to the copyist, who 
 wrote it down. It was soon found, however, 
 that the despatch could be read by the 
 '' click " of the instruments, and the ojiera- 
 tor now copies, himself, from sound. 
 
 Several modifications of the Morse tele- 
 graph have been maile, the principal of 
 which is to substitute ink marking for em- 
 bossing. The Morse telegraph in its various 
 modifications is now used almost exclusively 
 throughout the world. 
 
 The number of inventions connected with 
 the electric telegraph is almost endless, and 
 would engross a long series of volumes for 
 their description ; but the only system at 
 present in use for general telegrapliic com- 
 
 munication in the United States, besides the 
 Morse, is the letter printing telegraph, in- 
 vented by jMr. G. Jil. Phelps, and this in- 
 strument is only used in four out of the six 
 tliousand telegraphic stations in the United 
 States. 
 
 Professor INIorse had no sooner shown 
 that a telegraph could be constructed through 
 tlie aid of electricity than his attention was 
 turned to the discovery of some insulating 
 substance by means of which the wires 
 could be enveloped and buried in the earth, 
 it not being deemed practicable to place 
 them in the open air. Tarred yarn satu- 
 rated v.ith a pi'eparation of asphaltum, was 
 among the first insulating materials u.sed for 
 this purpose, and the lines constructed in 
 18-13 were covered witli this substance, and 
 buried in tlie earth. This insulation proved 
 so faulty, however, that it was at once aban- 
 doned, and the wires were insulated with 
 glass upon poles in the open air. Still if 
 it was decided to relinquish the idea of 
 building subterrivnean lines, the fact was 
 apparent that some good insulating material 
 must be found which would permit the sub- 
 mergence of the wires across straits or navi- 
 gable rivers. Various substances were tried 
 to accomplish this result, but nothing satis- 
 factory was obtained until the discovery of 
 gutta percha, which proved to be one of the 
 most perfect insulators known, and admirably 
 adapted by its plastic and flexible qualities 
 for the insulation of sulmiarine wires. 
 
 In 18.50 the first electric cable was laid 
 in the open sea between England and France. 
 This cable consisted of a solid copper wire, 
 covered with gutta percha. The landing 
 place in France was Cape Grissiez, from which 
 place a few messages passed sufficient to test 
 the accuracy of the principle. The commu- 
 nication thus established between the conti- 
 nent and England was, after a few hours, 
 abruptly stopped. A diligent fisherman, ply- 
 ing his vocation, took up part of the cable in 
 his trawl and cutoff apiece which he brought 
 in triumph to Boulogne, where he exhibited 
 it as a specimen of rare sea-weed, with its 
 centre filled with gold. It is believed that 
 this piscator ignnhilis returned again and 
 again to search for further specimens of this 
 treasure of the deep. It is, at all event% 
 perfectly certain that he succeeded in de- 
 stroying the submarine cable. 
 
 This accident caused the attention of 
 scientific men to be directed to the discovery 
 of some mode of preserving submarine cables 
 
TELUGRAPHS — TUEIK OKIGIN AND PROGRESS. 
 
 311 
 
 from similar casual ies, and it was decided, 
 that tlie wire insulated by gutta percha 
 should form a core or centre to a wire rope, 
 so as to give protection to it during the pro- 
 cess of paj'ing out and laying down, as well 
 as to guard it from rocks and the anchors 
 of vessels. 
 
 In 1 Mo 1 a cable protected in this manner 
 was laid between Dover and Calais, where 
 
 Amongst the most important submarine 
 lines are those which were laid across the 
 Atlantic Ocean in 18(!5 and 1»GG. 
 
 The conductor of these cables consists of 
 a copper strand of seven wires, six laid round 
 one, and weighing 300 lbs. per mile. 
 
 'J he in>u!ation consists of four layers of 
 gutta percha laid in alternately with four 
 thin layers of Cliattertou's compound. 
 
 E 
 
 Fy:2. 
 
 g. 1 is a side elevation of the instrument, showing a section thronfrh the galvanometer coils, and 
 Fig. 2 a cross section sliowing the magnetic needle. The same letters refer to like parts in both fig- 
 ures. A is the magnetic neeille attached to tliecircular mirror of silvered glass a, which is suspended 
 by a thread of cuioon silk in the brass frame /i,'and adjusted by the screw 6, The frame slides into 
 a vertical groove in the center of the coil which di\ ides it into two parts. The coil and mirror are 
 enclosed in a glass case D, in order to prevent the disturbtince of the needle by cnrrents of air. The 
 rays from the l:imp E pass through the opening /', which is adjustable by the slide G^ and passing 
 through the lens .1/ in the tube jV are retlected by the mirror back through the lens ujion an ivory 
 scale at / as shown by the dotted lines. 'J'he scale is liorizontal, extending to the right and left of 
 the center of the instrument, the zero point being exactly opposite the lens. The luminous rays of 
 light are brought to a sharp focus upon the scale by a sHiling adjustment of the lens. 
 
 The operator reads the signals from a ]ioint just in the rear of the magnet and coils, the light of 
 the lamp being cut off by the screen 1' so that he only sees the small luminous slit throrgh which 
 the light enters the instrument, and a brilliantly defined image of the slit upon the white ivory scale 
 iust aliove, which is kept in deep shadow by the screen Y. A very minute displacement of the magnet 
 gives a verv larire movement of the ray of light on the scale /, the angular displacement of the 
 r,iy of light being double that of the needle. 
 
 it has ever since remained in perfect order, 
 constituting the great channel of electrical 
 communication between England and the 
 continent. The success of that form of 
 cable having been thus completely estab- 
 lished, lines of a similar character were sub- 
 sequently laid in all quarters of the world. 
 
 Tlie external protection consists of ten 
 steel wires, each wire surrounded separately 
 with five strands of tarred Manilla hemp 
 and the whole laid spirally round the core, 
 which latter is padded with tanned jute 
 yarn. Each cable would bear eleven knots 
 of itself in water without breaking. 
 
312 
 
 TELEGRAPHS THEIR ORIGIN AND PROGRESS. 
 
 The deepest water encountered was 2,400 
 fathoms, and the distance between Valen- 
 tia and Hearts Content 1G70 knots. The 
 len<;th of the cables of 18G5— 1S9G knots; 
 1860 — 1858 knots. 
 
 The battery employed upon the Atlantic 
 cables is a modification of Daniell's. 12 
 cells are sufficient for signaling. The re- 
 ceiving instrument is Thomson's Reflecting 
 Galvanometer. This consists of a needle 
 formed of a piece of watch spring three- 
 eighths of an inch in length. The needle is 
 suspended by a thread of cocoon-silk without 
 torsion. The needle lies in the centre of 
 an exceedingly delicate galvanometer coil. 
 A circular mirror of silvered glass is fixed 
 to the needle, and reflects at right angles to 
 it in the plane of its motion. It is so curved 
 that when the light of a lamp is thrown 
 through a fine slit on it, the image of the 
 slit is reflected on a scale about three feet 
 off, placed a little above the front of the 
 flame. Deflections to the extent of half an 
 inch along any part of the scale are sufficient 
 for one signal. In so delicate an instru- 
 ment, the sluggish swing of the needle in 
 finally settling into any position would de- 
 stroy it susefulness. To rectify this, a strong 
 magnet, about eight inches long, and bent 
 concave to the instrument, is made to slide 
 up and down a rod jilaced in the line of the 
 suspending thread above the instrument. 
 This magnet can be easily shifted as neces- 
 sity may require. The oscillations of the 
 needle due to itself are, by the aid of the 
 strong magnet, made so sudden and short as 
 only to broaden the spot of light. The 
 delicacy of even this exceedingly delicate 
 galvanometer can be immensely increased 
 by using an astatic needle. 
 
 The alphabet is made by opposite move- 
 ments produced by one or other of two 
 Morse keys. The signals need not be made 
 from zero as a starting point. The eye 
 can easily distinguish, at any point in the 
 scale to which the spot of light may be de- 
 flected, the beginning and the end of a sig- 
 nal, and when its motion is caused by the 
 proper action of the needle or by currents. 
 It is thus that the mirror galvanometer is 
 adapted to cable signaling, not only by its 
 extreme delicacy, but also l)y its quickness. 
 The deflections of the spot of light have 
 been ajitly comjiared to a handwriting no 
 one letter of which is distinctly formed, but 
 yet is quite intelligible to the practised eye. 
 Signals in this way follow each other with 
 
 wonderful rapidity. A low speed — some 
 eight words a minute — is adopted for public 
 messages ; but when the clerks communicate 
 with each other, as high a speed as eighteen 
 or twenty words is attained. In fact, it is 
 said, that the only limit is the power of 
 reading, not transmitting signals. As it is 
 the speed of signaling is equal to, if not 
 greater than, that attained on any land line 
 of the same length, an achievement indica- 
 tive of the skill and genius that have been 
 directed to Atlantic telegraphy. 
 
 Telegraphic stations must be united by 
 one insulated wire, either carried overland, 
 or under the sea. The insulation of land 
 lines is insured by attaching the wires to in- 
 sulators fixed on posts some twenty feet 
 high. The posts are placed at distances of 
 about sixty yards apart. Insulators are of 
 all shapes and many materials. The insu- 
 lator most generally used in the United 
 States is made of glass, and is supported by 
 a wooden pin. The leakage in a long line, 
 notwithstanding the best insulation, is con- 
 siderable. The loss at each post is insignifi- 
 cant, but when hundreds or thousands are 
 taken into account it becomes decided ; so 
 that in extremely wet weather in some cases 
 merely a fraction of the total current that 
 sets out reaches the earth at the distant 
 station. 
 
 The wire most employed for land lines in 
 the United States is No. 9 galvanized iron 
 wire, although there is considerable of No. 
 8, and a few thousand miles of No. 7 and 
 6 in use. 
 
 But a little more than a quarter of a cen- 
 tury has elapsed since the electric telegraph 
 was introduced to the public as a practical 
 means of communicating intelligence. The 
 first line constructed in the United States 
 was put in operation in the month of June, 
 1844, between Washington and Baltimore. 
 Up to this time the electric telegraph had 
 been regarded only as a curious theoretical 
 science without practical application. 
 
 As far back as 1834, Messrs. Gauss and 
 Weber constructed a line of telegraph over 
 the houses and steeples of Gottingen, using 
 galvanic electricity and the phenomenon of 
 magnetic induction as a motor. The slow 
 oscillations of magnetic bars, caused by the 
 passage of electric currents, and observed 
 through a telescope furnished the signals for 
 corresponding, but the operation was com- 
 plicated, slow and inefficient. In 1837, M. 
 Steinheil established a line of telegraph be- 
 
TELEGRAPHS — THEIR ORIGIN AND PROGRESS. 
 
 313 
 
 tween Munich and Bogenhausen, a distance 
 of twelve miles; and in 1838, Professor 
 Wheatstone constructed a line between 
 London and Birmingham, but the apparatus 
 employed by each was crude and unsatisfac- 
 tory, and it was not until Professor Morse 
 perfected his simple and reliable system, 
 that the electric telegraph became of practi- 
 cal utility. 
 
 make them a present of a hundred dollars, 
 l)ut that he would not have his name asso- 
 ciated as a stockholder in so wild and chime- 
 rical a scheme. After the line was com- 
 pleted, this incorrigible skeptic was amongst 
 the first and best patrons of the company. 
 
 As a natural consequence of the distrust 
 of capitalists, and the great difficulty of rais- 
 ing funds for properly building the lines. 
 
 STOCK REPOnXING A^•D PRIVATE LINE TELEGRAPH 
 
 During the first few years after the intro- 
 duction of the electric telegraph its progress 
 was very slow. Capitalists were afraid to 
 invest in an undertaking so novel and pre- 
 carious. When one of the most distin- 
 guished financiers of New York was asked 
 by the projectors to subscribe towards the 
 construction of the first line from Baltimore 
 to New York, he replied that he would 
 
 they were constructed in a very unreliable 
 manner and breaks and interruptions was 
 rather the normal condition of the wires 
 than the exception. 
 
 At the commencement of 1848, the length 
 of telegraph wire in operation in this coun- 
 try was about 3,000 miles. At the present 
 time there are not less than 150,000 miles 
 in successftd operation within the limits of 
 
314 
 
 TELEGRAPHS THEIR ORIGIN AND PROGRESS. 
 
 the United States, having over 5,0<M) sta- 
 tions and employing upwards of 10,000 
 operators and clerks. The gross receipts 
 of the various telegraph companies in this 
 country amounts to upwards of $'j,00(),()00 
 per annum, while the aggregate capital em- 
 ployed is more than $60,000,000. 
 
 The various uses to which the telegra])h 
 has been applied is almost innumerable. 
 Amongst the most important of them may 
 be mentioned its application to the running 
 of trains on railroa(}s ; the giving of alarms 
 of fire in our principal cities ; its employ- 
 ment in scientific and astronomical observa- 
 tions, and the transmission of weather re- 
 ports. Within the jiast few years a new 
 field of usefulness has been ©|)ened and ])ar- 
 tially developed in the application of the 
 telegraph to stock reporting and private line 
 purposes, and in whicli it has already achieved 
 a marked success, with ]iromise of becoming 
 in the future a still more important br.anch 
 of the business. The instruments used for 
 this purpose print the dispatches in plain 
 Roman letters without the aid of an operator 
 at the receiving station. Through the aid 
 of this apparatus stock and market quota- 
 tions are recei\ed at the Exchanges, Bank- 
 ing-houses and other places of public resort 
 in the chief commercial cities of the United 
 States at all hours of the day. This new 
 enterprise, which was inaugurated in 186s, 
 has become one of the most important fea- 
 tures of the telegraphic business. 
 
 In December, 1870, a general system of 
 telegraphic money orders or transt\>rs was 
 jnit into oj)eration in the Pacific States. 
 The public demand for the use of facilities 
 for telegraphic exchange had long been ap- 
 parent, and had induced the authorization 
 of a limited amount of business which was 
 conducted with success and profit ; but the 
 need was felt of a system which could be 
 adopted generally, without bringing in at 
 the same time new and serious risks. This 
 object has now been attained, and arrange- 
 ments have been made for opening money- 
 order oflices in all parts of the country. 
 
 Congress having, by joint resolution, au- 
 thorized the Secretary of War to provide 
 for taking Meteorological observations at 
 various points in the United States and Ter- 
 ritories, and for their transmission by tele- 
 graph to stations on the Northern Lakes 
 and Eastern .Seaboard, arrangements were 
 made with the Western ITnion Telegraph 
 Company for the performance of the tele- 
 
 graphic service commencing on the first of 
 November, 1870. Sixteen circuits are oc- 
 cupied, embracing fifty-five stations, from 
 which three daily reports are transmitted to 
 A\"ashington, copies being also dropped at 
 intermediate stations on each circuit, mak- 
 ing an aggregate daily transmission of 20, OUO 
 words. 
 
 The synchronous transmission, three times 
 per day, of meteorological observations from 
 fifty-five stations embracing a territory cover- 
 ing 2o degrees of Latitude and 55 degrees 
 of Longitude is unparalleled in the history 
 of the telegraph ; and the eminently suc- 
 cessful manner in which this great under- 
 taking has been performed, afibrds good 
 evidence of the superior condition and o]iera- 
 tion of the telegra])h lines in this country. 
 
 On the first of October, I860, the West- 
 ern Union Telegraph Com]5any, which 
 operates lines in every State and Territory 
 in the Union, adopted a new Air Line 
 Tariff' for the transmission of message?, caus- 
 ing an average reduction of about lo per 
 cent, and on the first of January, 1870, in- 
 augurated a new feature in telegraphy 
 whereby messages could be received at and 
 for all stations in the United States for 
 transmission during the night and delivery 
 the next d.ay at one half the usual tariff 
 rates. 
 
 In Eiu'ope the telegraphs, with the ex- 
 ception of the submarine lines, are nearly all 
 owned and controlled by the Governments, 
 and in England, Belgium, and Switzerland, 
 they are connected with the postal service. 
 In continental Eurojie the annual expendi- 
 tures for the telegraphic service exceed the 
 receipts by about two millions of dtllars. 
 In England the telegraphs were purchased 
 by the Govei-nment in January, 1870. 
 Since then the Government has expended 
 about three million of dollars in excess of the 
 receipts, but, as a portion of this expenditure 
 is for new construction, it is uncertain how 
 great the annual discrepancy will be. 
 
 The progress of the electric telegraph 
 within the past six years has been very great 
 in every quarter of the globe. Uponthiscon- 
 tinent the electric wire extends from the Gulf 
 of the St. Lawrence to the Gulf of Mexico, 
 and from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. 
 Three cables span the Atlantic Oceai , con- 
 necting America with Europe, and another 
 submerged in the Gulf Stream, unites us 
 with the queen of the Antilles. Unbroken 
 telegraphic communication exists between all 
 
TELEGRAPHS THEIE ORIGIN AND PROGRESS. 
 
 315 
 
 jiliices in America and all parts of Europe; 
 ■vvitli Tripoli and AJgeirs in Africa ; Cairo 
 in pjgj'jit ; Teheran in Persia ; Jerusalem 
 in Syria ; Bagdad and Nineveh, in Asiatic 
 Turkey ; Bombay, Calcutta, and other im- 
 portant cities in India; Hong-Kong and 
 i"~haiighai in China; Irkoutsk, the capital 
 (if Eastern Siberia ; Kiakhta on the borders 
 of Oiina; Nagasaki in Japan; Havana and 
 all important towns in Cuba, and to New 
 AVestminster in British Columbia. But, 
 liowe\er rapid the extension of the tele- 
 grajih has been in the past, it is destined to 
 ghow still greater advancement in the fu- 
 ture. Neither the American nor the Euro- 
 pean system has yet attained to its ultimate 
 development. Submarine cables will shortly 
 be laid connecting the United States with 
 all the West Lidia Islands and with Mexico 
 nnd South America. The telegraph is al- 
 ready established in various parts of the lat- 
 ter country, and in Brazil and Peru arrange- 
 ments are now makin^ for largely extenduig 
 them. The project of connecting Vera Cruz 
 and New Orleans by a submarine cable is 
 likely to be soon realized, while a line is 
 now completed between New Orleans and 
 the city of IVFexico. 
 
 A direct line of telegraph under one con- 
 trol and management has recently been es- 
 tablished between London and India with 
 extensions to Singapore and China, which 
 will soon be continued to Australia. 
 
 Europe possesses 450,000 miles of tele- 
 grapliic wire and 13,000 stations ; America 
 1 St i,()00 miles of wire and 6,000 stations ; 
 India 1 4,000 miles of wire and 200 stations ; 
 and Australia 10,000 miles of wire and 270 
 stations ; and the extension throughout the 
 world is now at the rate of 100,000 miles of 
 wire per annum. There are in addition 
 3U.00O miles of submarine telegraph wire 
 
 now in successful operation, extending be- 
 neath the Atlantic and German Oceans ; 
 the Baltic, North, Mediterranean, Red, 
 Arabian, Japan and China Seas ; the Per- 
 sian Gulf; the Bay of Biscay, the Strait of 
 Gibralter, and the Gulfs of Mexico and St. 
 Lawrence. 
 
 More than twenty thousand cities and 
 ^•illages are now linked in one continuous 
 chain of telegraphic stations. The mysteri- 
 ous wire with its subtle and invisible influ- 
 ence traverses all civilized lands, and passes 
 beneath oceans, seas, and rivers, bearing 
 messages of business, friendship, and love, 
 and constantly, silently, but powerfully con- 
 tributing to the peace, happiness, and pros- 
 perity of all mankind. 
 
 Professor Morse, who was already past 
 middle age when he conceived the idea of 
 the electric telegraph on board of the packet 
 ship Sully on her ever memorable passage 
 ti-om Havre to New York, in 1832, and 
 who was nearly three-score years of age 
 when his first line was built, is still living 
 with mind and bodj' unimpaired, and enjoy- 
 ing at the age of four score the rich fruits of 
 a harvest more abundant than than has ever 
 fallen to the lot of any other man. The in- 
 vention of Professor Morse, which although 
 yet in its infancy, has already conferred in- 
 estimable benefits upon the people of more 
 than half the globe without having occa- 
 sioned a pang of sorrow to a single human 
 being. If he is to be entitled to be esteemed 
 a benefactor who makes two blades of grass 
 to grow where but one grew before, with 
 what honors should we regard him through 
 whom wars have been postponed and short- 
 ened, peace promoted and extended, time 
 annihilated and distance abolished, and all 
 the highest and noblest faculties of man 
 multiplied, extended, and enlarged. 
 
 19* 
 
THE ARTS OF DESIGN IN AMERICA, 
 
 FROM 1780 TO THE PRESENT TIME. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENGRAVING. 
 
 Horace Walpole says, in his " Anec- 
 dotes of Painting in England" (writing in 
 1762): " As our disputes and politics have 
 travelled to America, is it not probable that 
 poetry and painting, too, will revive amidst 
 those extensive tracts, as they increase in 
 opulence and empire, and where the stores 
 of nature are so various, so magnificent, and 
 so new?" 
 
 These lines were penned, perchance, in 
 grave prophetic faith, but it may be that 
 they were only idle speculations— a play of 
 fancy, meaning nothing. Certain it is, that 
 were the critic ever so much in earnest, verv 
 httle could he have expected the full and 
 noble response which so short a period would 
 make to his query. 
 
 Little could he or any one have foreseen 
 the rapid growth of these " extensive tracts" 
 in population and in every phase of material 
 life ; still less the wonderful strides which 
 they have made in all branches of mechani- 
 cal and industrial art ; and least of all, their 
 achievements in the higher and .'esthetic arts 
 of design. Little could he have dreamed 
 that within a period seemingly insufficient 
 for the construction even of the rude foun- 
 dations of empire, our country would have 
 reached that point of refinement and intellect- 
 ual development which gives it, in ample store, 
 its own literature and its own arts — both 
 with a strong and peculiar individuality of 
 character and life. 
 
 The only artists in America in Walpole's 
 time were a few strangers — Englishmen for 
 the most part — who had wandered hither in 
 quest of a fortune which their very humble 
 talents had failed to win at home. They did 
 little or nothing toward the development of 
 the public taste, and left no works to honor 
 the future ; though they may, perhaps, have 
 served, in some measure, to open the path 
 for the distinguished group of native paint- 
 
 ers who, quickly succeeding them, fairly and 
 surely lighted the lamp of art which now 
 burns with such pure and ever-growing 
 brightness. 
 
 The earliest of these pioneers, whose name 
 has been preserved, was John Watson, a 
 native of Scotland. He crossed the seas 
 and sot up his easel in Perth Amboy, in New 
 Jersey, in the year 1715. In this little port, 
 which was then thought destined to be what 
 the city of New York is now — the commer- 
 cial emporium of the country — Watson 
 painted portraits, such as they were, through 
 a long life. He appears to have had plenty 
 of " sitters," and to have grown rich upon 
 the fruits of well-employed industry ; but 
 we can gather no intimations of the state of 
 the popular taste at that time through the 
 medium of his works, inasmuch as none of 
 them now remain for our inspection. Wat- 
 son was buried about the 22d of August, 
 1768, in the old church-yard of his adopted 
 village, at the venerable age of eighty-three 
 years. 
 
 Our next pioneer was John Smybert, a 
 stronger man, much, than Watson, and one 
 who, though he painted no pictures to be 
 treasured in our galleries, yet left foot- 
 prints of good incentive and example, 
 which we may clearly trace beneath the sub- 
 sequent march of greater gifts. Copley, 
 though but thirteen years of age at the 
 time of Smybert's death, confesses indebted- 
 ness to him and his works. So also does 
 Trumbull, who at one time painted in the 
 apartments he had occupied, and in which 
 many of his pictures still remained ; while 
 Allston is thankful for the advantage he en- 
 joyed in the permission to copy a head 
 which Sm3'bert had executed after Vandyke. 
 Smybert accompanied Bishop Berkeley to 
 America in the year 1728, at the age of 
 forty-two. Like Watson, he w.as a Scotch- 
 man, and like him, again, he pursued his 
 craft in the colonies with gratifying financial 
 success. He lived in Boston in high public 
 
PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENGRAVING. 
 
 317 
 
 favor until 1751, leaving behind him many 
 portraits of the distinguished characters of 
 his time. 
 
 Nathaniel Smybert, a son of John Smybert, 
 followed his father's profession worthily in 
 Boston for a short time, and, according to 
 the opinion of cotemporary critics, gave 
 promise of more than ordinary talents. No 
 record of him remains beyond the meagre 
 facts here mentioned, and the additional one 
 that he died early. 
 
 While the Smyberts were planting the 
 seeds of art in Boston, there was in Phila- 
 delphia a Mr. Williams, an Englishman, re- 
 membered gratefully by West as the man 
 who awakened his love of pictures by lend- 
 ing him books and by showing him the first 
 works in oil which he had ever looked upon. 
 During the same period, Woolaston and 
 Taylor were also in Philadelphia ; a ilr. 
 Hesselius was at Annapolis in Maryland ; a 
 Mr. Thcus in Charleston, and other laborers 
 were in Virginia. 
 
 Besides the foreign adventurers here 
 spoken of, there were a few native artists 
 scattered over the country during the ante- 
 revolutionary period of our history. It is 
 hardly desirable to recall even their names, 
 or to add to our list of the yet earlier 
 strangers ; since, despite the service their 
 little light may have done, in the then deep 
 darkness, not one of them all possessed 
 more than the most moderate talent, and 
 not one will bo remembered excepting in the 
 way in which they are now so briefly re- 
 ferred to — that is, in consideration of the 
 initial times in which they chanced to live. 
 
 The birth of American art was not in any 
 portion of our colonial epoch, but singularly 
 and felicitously enough, was in that day of 
 happy augury when our country itself sprang 
 into life, and started upon its conquering 
 course of national development and power ; 
 and with equal strangeness and equal felicity, 
 the very beginning of our individual exis- 
 tence as a people produced, on a sudden, full- 
 grown artists of first-rate genius, as it did 
 Minerva-born statesmen, soldiers, and phil- 
 osophers. 
 
 During the progress of our great revo- 
 lutionary struggle with the mother land, and 
 at the time of our successful emergence from 
 that trial, Benjamin West, born in the forests 
 of Pennsylvania, was reaching the highest 
 honors in the art world of London, sur- 
 passing all native competitors, becoming the 
 successor of Reynolds in the presidental 
 
 chair of the English Academy, and enjoy- 
 ing the most distinguished consideration, 
 the patronage, and the personal friendship of 
 the very monarch against whom his country- 
 men were waging angry war. 
 
 It is, then, with Benjamin West, and with 
 the birth of our country as an independent 
 nation — about a hundred years since, ia 
 1772 — that our story of American art prop- 
 erly and prosperously begins. We shall, 
 however, say but little of West, since the 
 space that has been allotted to this subject 
 does not afford room for an extended notice 
 of any one. Though we maj- rightfully honor 
 him as the father of American painters, and 
 may write his name first on the long cata- 
 logue of eminent laborers in the noble field 
 of art which we now possess, yet, the fact 
 that the greater part of his professional life 
 was spent in England, and that his chief 
 success was won there, places him, in one 
 sense, among the painters of that country, 
 rather than of this ; just as the life-long 
 residence among us of a foreign-born artist 
 may make him ours, instead of his own 
 countrymen's. 
 
 West was born in 1738, in Pennsylvania, 
 as we have already said, near Springfield, 
 Chester county. His parents were Quakers, 
 and their habits of life, together with all 
 surrounding circumstances, were such as to 
 discourage rather than foster a predisposi- 
 tion toward the study of art. The bent of 
 the boy's mind was, nevertheless, earl}' and 
 powerfully manifested. The sight of Wil- 
 liams' pictures inflamed his youthful pre- 
 dilections to such a degree that, in want of 
 better pencils, he manufactured a supply 
 from the stolen fur of his mother's favorite 
 cat ; in waut of subjects, he, while yet a 
 child, seized upon his infant sister sleeping, 
 all unconscious, in her cradle ; and in want 
 of pigments, he borrowed ochres of the Del- 
 aware and Mohawk Indians, and indigo 
 from the maternal laundry ! He studied 
 after a while in Philadelphia, and subse- 
 quently painted portraits in New York. At 
 the age of twenty-one he went abroad, and 
 after a tour through the art cities of the 
 continent, he established himself in London, 
 where he afterward chiefly resided, rising 
 rapidly into popular favor, until, upon the 
 death of Sir Joshua Reynolds, the first 
 president of the Royal Academy, his posi- 
 tion as the head of the English school was 
 affirmed by the high honor of his election to 
 the vacant chair. This distinguished position 
 
318 
 
 THE ARTS OF DESIGN IN AMERICA. 
 
 he filled with great dignity until his death, 
 on the 11th of March, 18:^0, at the advanced 
 age of nearly eighty-two years. 
 
 West's fame was won chiefly in the noble 
 field of historical painting — a department 
 which his brother artists of America have 
 not continued fittingly to cultivate ; though 
 one in which they cannot, in due time, yet 
 fail to distinguish themselves no less honor- 
 ably than they have already done in land- 
 scape and portraiture ; so rich and bound- 
 less are the themes at their command, and 
 growing with every passing year yet more 
 beautiful and noble in aspect. 
 
 Among the chief productions of his skil- 
 ful and most industrious pencil, we may men- 
 tion the Battles of the Hague and the 
 Boyne ; the Death of General Wolfe ; the 
 Return of Regulus to Carthage ; Agrippina 
 Bearing the Ashes of Germanieus; the Young 
 Hannibal Swearing Eternal Enmity to the 
 Romans ; the Death of Epamiuondas ; the 
 Death of Chevalier Bayard ; Penn's Treaty 
 with the Indians ; Death on the Pale Horse ; 
 and Christ Healing the Sick. Many of his 
 works are now in America; among others, 
 Death on the Pale Horse, wliich is in the 
 galleries of the Pennsylvania Academy of 
 Fine Arts in Philadelphia; and Christ Heal- 
 ing the Sick, also in Philadelphia, in the 
 Pennsylvania Hospital, to which it was given 
 with noble generosity by the artist himself. 
 
 In the same year in which West was born 
 in Pennsylvania, John Singleton Copley, an- 
 other distinguished man in the earlier days 
 of American art, appeared in the city of 
 Boston. The one, like the other, after follow- 
 ing his profession at home for some time, 
 went to London, and there continued to live 
 and labor for the rest of liis days. The simul- 
 taneous appearance of these two gifted men, 
 at this early period of our country's progress, 
 and in sections of the Union then so far sep- 
 arated, was, as Cunningham says, when al- 
 luding to the circumstance— most " note- 
 worthy." Copley was occupied for the most 
 part with portraits, though he made success- 
 ful incursions at intervals into the domains 
 of history. One of his best works in this 
 department of the art, and that to which he 
 first owed his fame, was the large canvas 
 representing the Death of the Earl of Chat- 
 ham. Copley died in 1815, five years earlier 
 than his confrere, Benjamin West. Many 
 of his pictures are now treasured in the gal- 
 leries and in the private collections of Boston, 
 and in other parts of the Union. Lord 
 
 Lyndhurst, of England, was a son of this 
 artist. 
 
 In 1754, just sixteen years after the birth 
 of West and Copley, Gilbert Stuart, of 
 Rhode Island, came upon the stage, the ear- 
 liest of that gifted line of portrait painters 
 whose works have placed tliis branch of the 
 art as high in America as in any part of the 
 old world. Stuart, with Trumbull as a 
 companion, studied under West in London, 
 wlicre he afterward painted successfully, and 
 in due time rose to great eminence. Unlike 
 his distinguished predecessors, West and 
 Copley, lie returned after a time, to his na- 
 tive land, and after some years practice of 
 his art in Philadelphia, Washington, and 
 Boston, he died in the latter city in July, 
 1828, in his seventy-fifth year. His name is 
 f;miiliar to the public at large, through his 
 great picture of Washington, which he re- 
 peated for various societies and state legisla- 
 tures, and which is spread over our land in 
 every style of the graver's art. lie painted 
 noble portraits of many other of the distin- 
 guished people of his time — from presidents 
 to private gentlemen. His works are cher- 
 ished among us as master-pieces and models, 
 exerting still, as they have ever done, a mark- 
 ed influence upon the character of American 
 portraiture. The especial characteristics of 
 his style were a marvellous freedom and bold- 
 ness of touch, a wonderful freshness and ful- 
 ness of color, and a truth of character which 
 placed the very soul of his sitter before you 
 in the most striking individuality. " He 
 seemed," says a cotemporary writer, " to 
 dive into the thoughts of men — for they are 
 made to rise and speak on the surface ;" 
 and Sully is reported to have remarked of 
 one of his portraits : " It is a living man 
 looking directly at you /" 
 
 Stuart was a man of eminent social dis- 
 position and abilities, a famous wag and hu- 
 morist, fond of a jest, and overflowing with 
 anecdote. Innumerable amusing illustra- 
 tions of this trait in liis character, sprinkle 
 and enliven the recorded and remembered 
 records of his life. 
 
 Another pupil of West's, at this period, 
 was Robert Fulton, who was born in Little 
 Britain, in the county of Lancaster, Pa., in 
 1765. Fulton commenced the practice of 
 art in 1782, at the age of seventeen, but 
 continued it only a few years, being more 
 powerfully led toward those scientific studies 
 to which his genius was, as the end proved, 
 better adapted ; and from which sprang that 
 
PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENGRAVING. 
 
 319 
 
 glory of our time, the practical and perma- 
 nent application of steam to navij;ation. 
 Fulton's sliort career as an artist left no 
 k'tjible mark ; what might have been liis 
 achievements had he continued in the guild, 
 we cannot sa_v, and are, indeed, careless 
 to inquire, in view of his immortal labors 
 otherwise. American art is willing to spare 
 him, as it has since spared the illustrious 
 Morse, to its graver sister. Science ; and is 
 no less proud of the practical blessings he 
 has bestowed upon his country, than it 
 would be of the highest aesthetic success. 
 Fulton died upon the 24th of February, 
 1815. 
 
 Next among the men of service and intluenee 
 in the cause of art in America was William 
 Punlap, who was born in Perth Amboy, N.J., 
 February 19th, 1TC6, and who commenced 
 the profession of portrait painter about 1782. 
 Dunlap will be remembered as an artist more 
 for his long life of reverent and persistent de- 
 votion to the craft, and for the respect and 
 estimation which his character gained for it, 
 than for his success at the easel ; though he 
 both attempted and achieved works which 
 ■were commended at a less brilliant period 
 than the present. Ue was also an author of 
 considerable ability. Among his works is a 
 "History of the American Theatre," publish- 
 ed in 1832, and another of the New Nether- 
 lands, which appeared in 1840; a memoir 
 of Charles Brockden Brown, and various 
 plays of considerable interest. But the 
 most important of his literary labors is the 
 only record we possess of the early story of 
 American art, an invaluable work under the 
 circumstances, and one for which he will be 
 ever remembered, although clumsily con- 
 structed and injured by a most wearisome 
 medley of irrelevant matter. In this " His- 
 tory of the Arts of Design," Dunlap gives us 
 his own biograpliy with great discursiveness 
 and fulness, though with humble and char- 
 acteristic reverence, exhibiting his own career 
 as one to be shunned rather than followed. 
 ' I look back," he says in mournful reflec- 
 tion, " upon a long life, with the persuasion 
 that what is called misfortune in common 
 parlance is caused generally by our own 
 folly, ignorance, mistakes, or vices." To read 
 his story as recorded in his " History of the 
 Arts of Design," is to read a sad record of 
 untoward circumstances, varied eti'ort, and 
 ever-following failure ; but, withal, a praise- 
 worthy and even exalted longing to be of use 
 to his fellows and his country. His pictures 
 
 were generally of a very ambitious character, 
 scriptural themes on canvas twenty feet long. 
 Among these productions of high art were 
 Christ Rejected ; Bearing the Cross ; Cal- 
 vary ; and Death on the Pale Horse ; the 
 first of which was made up in part, and the 
 last wholl)', from West's pictures of the same 
 names. 
 
 Besides thus remembering Dunlap for the 
 art records which he has preserved with so 
 much honesty and industry, and for what he 
 would have done, and sought to lead others 
 to do at the easel, he must be honored as 
 one of the founders and the first vice-presi- 
 dent of our leading art society, the National 
 Academy of Design in New York. Dunlap 
 died on the 28th of September, 1839. 
 
 To the life and works of Colonel John 
 Trumbull our early art owes great obliga- 
 tions, though it is much the fashion at this 
 day to disparage and deny his genius. Trum- 
 bull's name is familiar to the people through 
 his grand pictures of revolutionary story 
 which decorate the walls of the national 
 capitol. He was the son of the first gov- 
 ernor Trumbull of Connecticut, and was 
 born at Lebanon on the 6th of June, 1756. 
 To high birth he added, through life, high 
 character and learning, and great culture 
 and dignity of manners. His early studies 
 were, as was the case with all the artists 
 of his time, pursued abroad and under Ben- 
 jamin W^est. He entered the American 
 amiy at the commencement of the Revolu- 
 tion, and was an eye-witness of, and partici- 
 pant in, some of its most stirring scenes, of 
 which the subseijuent delineation won for 
 him his fiime as a painter. The four large 
 works executed for the government, are : 
 the Declaration of Independence; the Sur- 
 render of Cornwallis ; the Surrender of 
 Burgoyne ; and Washington's Resignation. 
 An appropriation of thirty-two thousand 
 dollars was made for these pictures, be- 
 sides which, the artist received considerable 
 emolument from their public exhibition 
 through the country. Among his other his- 
 torical works may be mentioned the Battle 
 of Bunker Hill ; the Death of General Mont- 
 gomery ; Capture of the Hessians at Trenton ; 
 and the Death of General Mercer at the 
 Battle of Princeton. In addition, he exe- 
 cuted various scriptural subjects, and many 
 portraits, among which was a full-length of 
 Washington, painted in 1792, in the artist's 
 best days. A few years before his death, 
 he presented his collected works to Yale 
 
320 
 
 THE ARTS OF DESIGN IN AMERICA. 
 
 College, upon the condition that they should 
 be suitably housed, and that he should re- 
 ceive an annuity of one thousand dollars. 
 The college erected a gallery on its grounds 
 in New Haven, where tlic pictures were 
 placed, and where they now may be seen. 
 
 Colonel Trumbull was president of the 
 American Academy of Fine Arts, in New 
 York, until that effete organization was su- 
 perseded in 1826 by the establishment of 
 the National Academy of Design. Trum- 
 bull did not, at any period of his life, pos- 
 sess much of that genial fellowship and social 
 habit so characteristic of artists, and so es- 
 sential to personal popularity in the profes- 
 sion. He died in 1843, at the venerable age 
 of eighty-seven years, leaving behind him a 
 name unspotted, and a claim to distinguished 
 remembrance in the history of art m America, 
 despite all the faults of liis works, and how- 
 ever much they have since been or yet may 
 be surpassed. 
 
 Charles W.Peale, born at Chesterton, on the 
 eastern shore of Maryland, April ICth, 1741, 
 was an active eolaborer with Trumbull and 
 his fellows, but was not eminently successful 
 at the easel. He was a man of versatile 
 Ijifts, and at various times dabbled in all 
 sorts of crafts. He made his brothers, sis- 
 ters, sons, and daughters all artists. lie died 
 in 1827, at the age of eighty-five years. 
 
 John Vanderlyn was born in Kingston, in 
 the state of New York, in October, 1776, 
 where he died at the age of sevent3'-six 
 years, in 1852. Aaron Burr was struck 
 with liis boyish performances in art while 
 he was a blacksmith's apprentice in liis na- 
 tive village, and befriended him at the com- 
 mencement of his career. At the age of 
 twenty he made the foreign tour, so custom- 
 ary at the time, studying in Paris and other 
 cities of the continent of Europe. In the 
 year 1817, the corporation of New York 
 having given him the lease of the ground, 
 he erected the building in the north-east cor- 
 ner of the City Hall park in New York, 
 afterward used as the Post Office, and always 
 known as the Uotunda. Here he exhibited 
 in succession a series of panoramas, the first 
 seen in this country, of Paris, Athens, Mex- 
 ico, and Versailles, with his own pictures — 
 Marius, Ariadne, and other subjects. The 
 unex]>ected cost of the building, and the 
 resumption of the lease by the city before 
 the artist had fairly tried his speculation, 
 made it a matter of serious pecuniary loss 
 to him. Among his chief pictures are the 
 
 Landing of Columbus, which fills one of the 
 panels of the rotunda of the Capitol in 
 Washington — one of the pendants of those 
 already mentioned by Trumbull ; his fine 
 picture of Marius Musing over the Ruins of 
 Carthage, painted in 1808; and his superb 
 full-length figure of Ariadne, so beautifully 
 engraved by L)urand ; portraits of Presidents 
 Madison, Monroe, and Jackson ; of Calhoun, 
 De Witt Clinton, and other distinguished 
 men. He exerted a most healthy infiuence 
 upon his fellow artists, and his works remain 
 as models for future study. 
 
 Edward G. Malbone was born in New- 
 port, Rhode Island, in 1777, and died in 
 Savannah, in May, 1807, in his thirty-second 
 year. During his short life he won high 
 reputation as a miniature painter ; and his 
 works in this department are still preserved 
 in various parts of the country as master- 
 pieces of art. One of his most successful 
 productions — a picture of three half-length fe- 
 male figures, called The Hours — is now in the 
 possession of the Athenteum in Providence. 
 
 Rembrandt Peale, whose history belongs 
 to this jieriod, though more recently deceased, 
 was born of a family of artists in Penn- 
 .sylvania, on the 22d of February, 1778. 
 He was an active, earnest man in his time, 
 and did much in the service of art, by his 
 own works, and the incentive which his ex- 
 ample gave to others. His [licture of Wash- 
 ington, painted in the artist's boyhood, and 
 afterward often repeated by him, is well 
 known ; as also his grand work called the Court 
 of Death. His long and honored career, 
 whirh embraced nearly the whole pieriodof 
 our art history, was closed on the 3d of Oc- 
 tober, 1860. 
 
 John Wesley Jar\'is, one of the most dis- 
 tinguished portrait painters of this era, was 
 born in England in 1780, and brought to 
 America at the age of five years. He 
 painted innumerable pictures, many of them 
 of great merit ; and did good service as the 
 instructor of Henry Inman, and other dis- 
 tinguished artists. He was a man of emi- 
 nently social disposition, with a great turn 
 for Imnior — traits of character pleasant 
 enough when well employed, but which he 
 unhappily permitted to lead him into low and 
 ruinous dissipation, which impaired his ar- 
 tistic powers, and brought a life begun under 
 the happiest promise to the dreariest end. 
 
 Charles B. King, born in Newport, Rhode 
 Island, 1785; Alvan Fisher, born in Need- 
 ham, Massachusetts, 1792 ; AVilliam E. West, 
 
TAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENGRAVING. 
 
 321 
 
 aiiJ V.'illiam James Bennet, born in London, 
 ITST, may be mentioned in tins part of our 
 story as men of mark and influence in their 
 day tliougU lliey k-t't no works behind them 
 of great excellence. Mr. King, passed away, 
 March 18. IStJl', in Washington, the National 
 Capital, where he for many years virtually 
 filled the fashionable position of court paint- 
 er, preserving to posterity the likene-ses of 
 presidents, ministers, statesmen, and the 
 chiefs of tiie Indian deputations who came to 
 see their great white father at the cajjital. 
 
 The life of Thomas >Sully fills a delightful 
 page in the liistory of American art. Born 
 in England in June, 178o, he came hither 
 at the age of nine years, struggled bravely 
 through an indigent youth and a laborious 
 manhood to a position of high honor and 
 nsefu'.ness. He is still pursuing, at the age 
 of 89, in Philadelphia, the profession which 
 he has through many years so etl'cctually 
 contributed to advance. His pictures are 
 characterized by grace and beauty of feeling, 
 and a daintiness and freshness of color well 
 deserving of most careful study. He has 
 painted many full-length pictures of dis- 
 tinguished personages, among them one of 
 Queen Victoria, which was exhibited with 
 great success in all the Atlantic cities, and 
 numerous fancy heads of great poetic beautv. 
 
 Charles Fraser, born in Charleston. South 
 Carolina, Aug. 20, 1782, and died there Oct. 
 5, 18G0. was an esteemed a>sociate of the 
 best men of the days of which we write. 
 His works Lave materially advanced the 
 standard of public taste in his native state. 
 After obtaining a competency by the indus- 
 trious pursuit of legal studies, ho beLjan the 
 profession of artist in earnest at the age of 
 tliirtj'-six. Following the successful lead of 
 his friend Malbone, he turned his attention 
 especially to miniature painting, in which 
 style he executed a picture of Lafayette, 
 and of nearly all of the prominent men of 
 las region. An exhibition of his collected 
 works in 1857, included 313 miniatures, 139 
 landscapes, and other works in oil. 
 
 Chester Harding, who passed away, April 
 1, ISOti, was born in Conway, Mass., Sept. 
 1st, 1792. His humble parentage sent 
 him at first to farm work and chair-making. 
 After the war of 1812, in which he served, 
 be engaged in cabinet-making in Caledonia, 
 New York. He subsequently went to the 
 head waters of the Alleghany, and thence 
 on a raft to Pittsburg, where he worked at 
 house-painting; he returned homo through 
 
 the forest, two hundred miles, on foot, with 
 no guide but blazed trees. Again visiting 
 tlio west with his family, he worked from 
 sign painting into portraiture ; thenceforth 
 gradually rising in his profession, until he 
 numbered among his sitters such men as 
 Madison, Monroe, Marshall, Wirt, Clay, 
 Webster, Calhoun, and Allston, in America; 
 and the dukes of Norfolk, Hamilton, and 
 Sussex, Lord Aberdeen, and Samuel Rogers, 
 in England. 
 
 Washington Allston, one of the most il- 
 lustrious of our artists, was a native of South 
 Carolina, having been born on his father's 
 plantation at Waccamaw, in that state, on the 
 5th of November, 1779. He was a liigh- 
 toned man, of poetic temperament and schol- 
 arly tastes, and was eminent as a poet as 
 well as an artist. He was a student of the 
 Koyal Acadeni}- in London in 1801, and an 
 exhibitor on the walls of that institution the 
 following year. At this early period of his 
 life he became an intimate friend of Cole- 
 ridge and Thorwaldsen, West and Fuseli, 
 and other distinguished men. In a second 
 visit to Europe, about 1810, he exhibited 
 his famous fiicture of the Dead Man Ke- 
 vived, which is now in the Pennsylvania 
 Academy at Philadelphia. F<jr this work a 
 prize of 200 guineas was awarded to liim by 
 the British Institution. His next consider- 
 able works were: St. Peter Liberated by 
 the Angel ; Uriel in the Sun, which was 
 painted for the duke of Sutherland ; and 
 Jacob's Dream. In 1818 he returned 
 home, with his ])icture of Elijah in the 
 Wilderness, which afterward went back to 
 England. Within the next twelve years lie 
 produced his Proiihet Jeremiah, recently pre- 
 sented by Prof. Morse to the Art Museum of 
 Yale College ; Saul and the Witch of Eudor ; 
 Miriam Singing the Song of Triumph, and 
 other justly celebrated works. Among his 
 smaller pictures, the Valentine and Be- 
 atrice, female ideal lieads, are remarkable 
 for their power of expression and strength 
 of color. In the studio in which he finally 
 settled himself at Cambridge, he painted 
 Spalatro's Vision of the Bloody Hand ; 
 Rosalie ; and his grand unfinislied subject, 
 Bclshazzar's Feast. In his early life he was 
 an intimate friend of Washington Irving, 
 whom he almost won over to his own studies, 
 as the author's profession may have attracted 
 him, for during his life he made frequent in- 
 cursions into the literary arena, publishing 
 in London, in 1813, a poem entitled "The 
 
322 
 
 THE ARTS OF DESIGN IN AMERICA. 
 
 Sylphs of the Season," and afterward the 
 metrical satire entitled, " The Two Painters," 
 the weird story of the " Paint Kinjj," " Mo- 
 naldi, a Tale of Passion in Ital_y," followed 
 after his death b}' a volume of "Lectures on 
 Art." He was twice married, first in 1809 
 to a sister of Dr. Clianninj;, and arjain in 
 1830. He died at Cambrid'o-e on the 9th of 
 July, 1843. 
 
 Thomas Birch, a marine painter, born in 
 London 1779, died in Philadelphia Jan. 1851, 
 and Joshua Shaw, a land.-^cape painter, born 
 
 in England in 177G, died . Both 
 
 became residents of the United States in 
 childhood, and gained a reputation in their 
 respective departments. 
 
 Among the popular painters of this time 
 were Samuel L. AValdo (1783-18G1), and 
 "William Jewett, 179.3. Mr. Jewett was a 
 l)uj>il and afterwards a partner of Mr. AValdo, 
 and the two painted many portraits together, 
 of great merit. 
 
 Our narrative now passes the line, as nearly 
 as such a line may be drawn, between the 
 artists of the revolutionary and iminediatoly 
 following years, and the earlier part of the 
 present century. Already have we seen the 
 arts firmly rooted in the love of the people 
 and tlic genius of their professors ; seen na- 
 tive artists grow up, and by their labors re- 
 flect high and imperishable honor on their 
 countr}'. In the continuation and the sequel 
 of our history it will be our pleasure to see 
 this glory ever brightening, and the public 
 taste and artistic skill still more rapidly ad- 
 vancing hand in hand. This progress can- 
 not, hiiwever, be better understood than by 
 following, step by step, the lives of those 
 from whose genius and works it alone springs. 
 We therefore continue as we liave begun, 
 the chronological mention of the men to 
 whom we are the most indebted for it. 
 
 We have already seen how our country 
 had no sooner come of age than its early in- 
 debtedness to the mother-land for the hum- 
 ble aid of her Smybert and others, was 
 promptly and nobly repaid by the fame 
 which we sent her of a West and a Copley. 
 Not content with this ample acknowledg- 
 ment, we added to these high names at a 
 later day those of Leslie and Newton, which 
 she has inscribed upon the brightest tablet 
 of her art achievement. Both these emi- 
 nent artists were Americans by their parent- 
 age, though, through the chances of the mo- 
 ment, the former first saw the light in Lon- 
 don. The latter was born in Halifax, in 
 
 No^•a Scotia, during a temporary visit of liis 
 parents thither from Boston. They estab- 
 lished themselves in London, where they 
 passed their lives in such successful labors 
 as to lea\c a name and lame cherished zeal- 
 ously both by their native and their adopted 
 homes. 
 
 Some of the men most distinguished and 
 the most serviceable m the cause of art in 
 America who came upon the stage at or near 
 the beginning of the jiresent century, are 
 yet living to see the happy fruits of their 
 toil, in the general diffusion of an ap])recia- 
 tive and enduring love of art throughout the 
 land, in the growing up of a community of 
 artists, large and influential enough to have 
 become an acknowledged and re\ei'ed power 
 in society, and in the firm foundation of a 
 strongly individualized and healthful national 
 school. 
 
 Among these great men, we should, per- 
 haps, mention the la'e Samuel Findley 
 Breese Morse, to whom (though he was drawn 
 out of the profession as Fulton was before 
 him, by the allurements of science) we owe 
 much for the excellent labors of his pencil 
 and the yet more excellent eft'ects of his 
 earnest sympathy with his art brethren 
 throughout his long and illustrious life. It 
 is to this strong and indefatigable love that 
 wo are, more than to any other agency, in- 
 debted for the foundation and success of our 
 chief art society, the National Academy of 
 Design. Morse was the leading spirit in 
 this great enterprise. He was its first'presi- 
 dcnt ; an oiiico which he continued to fill 
 with high honor for a score of years, and 
 which, only that other duties required him 
 to resign, he would have filled to tiiis dav. 
 I'rof. Morse was born in Charlestown, Mass., 
 April 29th, 1791. His father was the fa- 
 mous geographer, the Rev. Jedidiah Morse. 
 He was educateil at Yale College under Dr. 
 Dwight. In his twentieth year he went to 
 England, and yet two years later successfully 
 exhibited a largo picture of the Dying 
 Hercules at the Royal Academy. He liad 
 previously executed a plaster model of the 
 Hercules, wdiich he also displa3'ed, and for 
 which, greatly to his own surprise, he re- 
 ceived the riohl medal fmm the Soc'iet}' of 
 Arts. Prom this happy commencement of 
 his life as an artist, and from the portraits 
 and other works which he subsequently pro- 
 duced, until other studies drew his mind 
 away from the easel, we may fairly suppose 
 that he would ha\'C reached the highest posi' 
 
GENTI-EMB.V ENRAGED IN" THE FINE ARTS. 
 
 WOXIES LN'GAGED IN THE Fl'S^ AUTi. 
 
PAIXTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENGRAVING. 
 
 323 
 
 tion as a painter had ho continued to seek 
 it, and some rejrret at his loss to the arts 
 may be permitted, even in view of what tlic 
 world at large owes to his scientific studies 
 in the priceless gift of the JIagnetic Tele- 
 graph. Professor Morse died in New York, 
 April 2, 1872. 
 
 Charles C. Ingham, an eminent portrait 
 painter, born in Dublin, 1797, died in New 
 York, Dec. 10, 18G3. He was an earnest 
 co-laborer with IMorse in the establishment 
 of our National Academy, which has always 
 owed and still owes much in its exhibitions 
 to the productions of his easel — his exquis- 
 ite pictures of fair women and brave men. 
 He filled for some years the office of vice- 
 president of the academy. 
 
 Robert W. Weir, who has been for many 
 years, as now, professor of drawing at the 
 Military Academy at West Point, holds a 
 distinguished place among the older of our 
 living ai'tists. He was born on the 18tli of 
 January. 1803, at New Kochelle, in the state 
 of New York. It is to his pencil that we 
 owe that best of the pictures in the Capitol 
 at Washington, the Embarkation of the 
 Pilgrims, a work eminently illustrative of 
 the thoughtfulncss and conscientiousness of 
 his genius. He has painted numerous liis- 
 torical compositions, (/(ure subjects, laud- 
 scapes, and portraits of great excellence. 
 
 Thomas S. Ciunuiings, another of the 
 founders of the Academy, and always one 
 of its officers, held high rank at this period 
 in the department of miniature painting. 
 Mr. Cummirigs was born in Bath, England, 
 in 1804, and became a resident of the United 
 States in early childhood. 
 
 John G. Chapman, born in Alexandria, 
 Virginia, on the 11th of August, 1808, now 
 residing in Italy, is well known as the paint- 
 er of the Baptism of Pocahontas, in the 
 Capitol at Washington, and as the author of 
 innumerable designs in our illustrated books. 
 
 AVilliara S. Mount, born in Setauket, 
 L. I., Nov. 1807, died there, Nov.19, 18(;8, 
 was the first American artist who achieved 
 success in subjects of a purely national 
 character, in a series of pictures of the hum- 
 bler features of our country life. His Bar- 
 gaining for a Horse, Haymaker's Dance, tlie 
 Power of Music, and other light themes, 
 have been often engraved, and are familiar 
 to everybody. 
 
 Francis W. Edmonds, born 1806, died 
 1860, produced many pleasant j)ictures in the 
 same vein of quiet humor with Mount. 
 
 Wiliam Page, born in Albany, Jan. 23, 
 1811, has distinguished himself, at home and 
 abroad, in the field of portraiture. He 
 painted, also, many excellent classic themes, 
 among them two Venuses, which were great- 
 ly admired. JNIr. Page has been President 
 of the Academy since Ma}', 1871. 
 
 Henry Inman, born in Utica, N. Y., Oct. 
 20, 1801, died Jan. 17, 1846, was one of the 
 most eminent of American artists. He was 
 a pu]iil of Jarvis, whom he soon surpassed, 
 excellent as Jarvis was. He was a man of 
 remarkalile versatility, and worked with 
 equal focdity in portraiture, landscape, and 
 history. He was a guest of Wordsworth, 
 during a visit to England in 1844, at whii h 
 lime he painted a characteristic picture of 
 the great poet, and that charming illustra- 
 tion of the scenery of his region, the Kydal 
 Water. While in England, he ]iainted, also, 
 portraits of Dr. Chalmers, Maeaulay, and 
 other eminent people. The exhibition which 
 was made, after his death, of his works, was 
 one of the most interesting and varied ever 
 seen in New York. 
 
 With the advent of Aslicr Brown Durnnd 
 as a landscajie painter, about 1828, begins 
 the development of high art in the depart- 
 ment of landscape ])ainting in this country. 
 The few artists who had attenqiti.'d land- 
 scapes before him, had drawn, not from na- 
 ture so much as from those conventional 
 rules which, both in Europe and America, 
 had supplanted nature. IMr. Durand, already 
 a skilful artist, had from the beginning gone 
 to the forest, the mountain, the lake, and the 
 glen, for his inspiration, and liis one thought 
 was to I'eproduce in all its beauty of form, 
 position, variety, and color, nature as its per- 
 fection gladdened his eyes. Mr. Durand 
 was born in Jetferson, N. J., Aug. 21, 1796. 
 His father was a watchmaker and in a small 
 way an engraver of cyphers, coats of arms, 
 and designs upon silver and gold. The son 
 had from early childhood an insatiable taste 
 for the arts ot design, and when a mere lad, 
 was remarkable for the felicity of his designs 
 for the iilate, &c., of his father's customers, 
 and for his deftness and skill in transferring 
 them to the metal. He had also trieil his 
 hand at engraving and printing watch pa- 
 pers and other little sketches which he traced 
 on thin sheets of copjier hammered out from 
 spare pennies. He acquired a very thorough 
 knowledgeof every branch of the engraver's 
 art under Mr. Maverick, whose partner he 
 afterwards became, and attained the reputa- 
 
324 
 
 THE ARTS OF DESIGN IS A.iIERICA. 
 
 tion of being the finest enjrraver of the New 
 "World, and the peer of the best in Europe, 
 by his engraving of Vanderlyn's '"Ariadne," 
 before he had gained any considerable repu 
 tation as a painter. He had been, however, 
 for years secretly trying his powers as a 
 painter, before he had the courage to show 
 his pictures to any one. He was thirty 
 years old when he exhibited his first paint- 
 ing — a portrait of his cliild — at the Academy, 
 bat from that time forward, the exhibition of 
 each year always contained one or two of 
 them, and his truthfiilness to nature, the 
 care and fidelity of his drawing, and his ex- 
 quisite taste in color, have made his pictures 
 a perpetual delight. In 1844, he was chosen 
 vice-president, and in 1845 president of the 
 National Academy, and was reelected each 
 year till 1861, when he declined in order to 
 bring about the reelection of Prof, ilorse. 
 Though now (1872) in his 76th year. Air. 
 Durand is still active as ever, and paints as 
 well as he did thirty years ago. His land 
 scapes are widely known and highly prized. 
 
 Thomas Cole, bom in England, Feb. 1. 
 1801, died in CatskOl. N. Y., Feb. 11, 1848. 
 was the associate and intimate friend of 
 Dorand, till his death, a'l too soon, severed 
 the ties that bound them together. He came 
 to this country at the age of eighteen, and 
 though for some years of his early profes- 
 sional career he had to struggle with poverty 
 and hardships, yet he soon received from 
 Durand, Trumbull, and Dunlap that cordial 
 recognition and encouragement which ena- 
 bled him to triumph over all diiiiculties. His 
 tastes in landscape, though equally true to 
 nature with Durand 's, were attracted to a 
 diiferent phase of her manv-sided glories. 
 Durand was essentially a painter of nature 
 in repose and quiet. The gentle grass cov- 
 ered slopes, the drowsy forests at noon tide, 
 the calm lake whose placid bosom reflects 
 the foliage of the Mils, the gently flowing 
 river, the meadows covered with klne. were 
 the suhjecta in which Durand has always 
 deUghted. Cole, on the contrary, preferred 
 to depict the mountains riven bv earth- 
 quakes, the varied hues of the storm cloud, 
 the fierce torrent and cataract, and the 
 waters lashed into fury by the mighty wind. 
 If he painted the forest, it must be when the 
 Frost Kinjt had decked it in its gorgeous 
 parti-colored hues. 
 
 "Without losing at any time his fondness 
 for nattire, his poetic temperament led him 
 
 to embody it in those grand allegorical pic. 
 tures, in which he has combined perfect 
 fidehty to the great truths of nature with a 
 higher and sublimer significance, as in his 
 series of the " Rise, Progress, and Fall of 
 Empire," his beautiful epic of the " Voyage 
 of Life," and his not quite finished group, 
 - The Cross and the "\\'orid." 
 
 Though cut off in his prime. Cole has left 
 a reputation which in some respects has 
 never been surpassed in this comitry. Thos. 
 Doughty, the third of the tno of our found- 
 ers of the American School of landscape 
 art, (bom in Philadelphia July 19, 1793, and 
 died in New York, July 24, 1856) was not 
 the peer of either Durand or Cole. The 
 influence of tlie old anventional school 
 which thought nature needed to be unproved 
 before she was presentable, and perhaps, too, 
 the lack of that lofiy genius which enabh d 
 the others to overleap conventional ruks, 
 kept him in bondage throughout his career. 
 Still his landscapes possess a large measure 
 of poetic beauty. He did not enter on his 
 profession till he was nearly twenty-eight 
 years of age^ 
 
 Daniel Huntington, bom in New York, 
 Oct. 14, 1816, a pupil of Morse, and Elliott, 
 IS one of the most versatile and accomplL-hed 
 of American artists. He has painted, and 
 witli eminent success in every case, portraits, 
 historical, allegorical, and genre pieces, and 
 landscapes of wonderful beauty. His "Mer- 
 cv's Dream."' '• Christiana and her Children," 
 ""The Shepherd's Boy." " The Marys at the 
 Sepulchre," " The Good Samaritan." " Icha- 
 bod Crane and Katrina Van Tassel," " The 
 Republican Court." Chocnrua Peak," " Sow- 
 ing the Word." and his numerous portraits 
 of the highest style of art, all give evidence 
 of the great scope of his powers. Mr. 
 Huntington was President of the National 
 Academy fi-om 1862 to 1870. 
 
 Charles Loring Elliott, bom in Scipio, N. 
 Y.. in Dee. I8l2, died at Albany, Aug. 2.i. 
 1868, was for more than twenty years be- 
 fore his death regarded as the most eminent 
 portrait painter in this coimtry, succeeding 
 almost without any interval to the grtat 
 reputation of Inman. Some of his male 
 heads have never been surpassed in vigor 
 and thorough souhuluess. 
 
 George A. Baker, of New York, is eqtially 
 distinguished for his heads of women and 
 children. Henry Peters Gray, bom in New 
 York in 1819, holds a high position as a 
 
PAIXTISG, SCULPTUllE, AND ESGRAVIXG. 
 
 325 
 
 painter of portraits, and of small pictures 
 oi genre and history. His ''Pride of the 
 Village," " Building of the Sliip," " Venus 
 and Paris," etc., are admiraWe. Jlr. Gray 
 was President of the Academy 1870-1871. 
 Thomas P. Rossiter, bom in Sept. 1818, 
 died in 1871, was a man of rare gifts in art, 
 and had painted many large historical and 
 scriptural pieces of great merit. Arthur F. 
 Tait is particularly happy in pictures of 
 game and sporting life, a branch successfully 
 
 ' followed by the late William Ranney. Thos. 
 Hicks, born Oct 18, 1823, is among the 
 most po|.ular of the present group of por- 
 trait painters in New York. He completed 
 in 18G5, a large picture of the authors of the 
 United States. Edwin White's great pic- 
 ture of" Washington Resigning his Commiss- 
 ion," painted for the legislature of ^Maryland, | 
 is a fair example of this artist's style and I 
 
 i class of subjects. 
 
 Emanuel Leutze, bom in Wurtemburs, 
 
 ] May 24, 1816, died in Washington, D. C., 
 July 18. 18tj8, was, perhaps, the best of our 
 
 I historical painters. From his loth to his [ 
 28th year, he resided in Philadelphia, but 
 then went abroad to study art, and remained i 
 eighteen years. He returned to the Uni:ed | 
 States in 1859, and painted many pictures 
 on topics connected with American Revolu- 
 tionary and later history. 
 
 P. F. Rothermel, born July 8, 1817, of 
 Philadelphia, is eminent in historical sub- 
 jects. The Lanibdins, of Philadelphia, father 
 and son, hold a distinguished place in the 
 art, the elder as portrait painter, the latter 
 as painter of poetical and dramatic scenes. 
 
 F. O. C Darley has achieved a world- 
 wiile fame, by his designs and book Ulustra- ' 
 lions. Nothing can surpass, in beauty of 
 conception, his charming outline drawings ' 
 from Irviug's '• Rip \'an Winkle " and 
 '• Sleepy Hollow," or his compositions from 
 Judd's novel, '• Margaret." He has Ulus- ! 
 trated a fine edition of Cooper's works in | 
 thirty-two volumes, and Dickens' works in , 
 fifty-six volumes, as well as numerous minor | 
 works. John W. Ehninger has been most 
 successful in the same walk with Darley, be- j 
 sides which he has made many happy genre 
 pictures in oil. E. D. E. Green is justly \ 
 famous for the classic beauty of his female i 
 heads ; J. T. Peele for his dainty pictures 
 of childhood ; Rowse and Colyer for their 
 charming heads in crayon ; W. J. Hays for 
 his animal subjects ; Eastman Johnson for 1 
 
 his domestii- passages of negro ai:d other 
 humblt iife ; Healy and Lang for brilliant 
 portraiture ; James Hamilton for marine 
 views ; Wenzler and Stone for their female 
 heads, and May in historical subjects. 
 
 Among the eminent artists of a somewhat 
 younger class, the first place as a landscape 
 painter must, we think, be given to Frederic 
 E. Church, horn at Hartford. May. 1826. 
 A pupil of Tiiomas Cole, he has all his mas- 
 ter's genius, with an equally careful industry 
 in thoroughly finishing his work. Ilis " Ni- 
 agara Falls " achieved for him the highest 
 reputation, and his " Heart of the j\n(les," 
 " Cotopaxi," •' Tlie Icebergs," and '' Rainy 
 Season in the Tropics," have maintiiined it. 
 
 J. F. Cropsey, bom in Staten Island, 
 Feb. 1 8. 1 823, has also an excellent reputa- 
 tion, both in Europe and America, as a land- 
 scape artist. He resided in England from 
 1856 to 1863. J. F. Kensett is a little old- 
 er, having been bom in 1818. He was at 
 first a bank note engraver. His first scenes 
 and mountain views are greatly admired. 
 L. R. 3Iignot, whose tropical atmospheres 
 and vegetation are wonderfiiUy faithful, now 
 resides abroad, as does F. R. Gignoux, a 
 native of France, but resident for nearly 
 thirty years in the United States, and first 
 President of the Brooklyn Art Academy. 
 His " Niagara by Moonlight," and '• Niaga- 
 ra in Winter," are both very beautifid. 'Ihe 
 Hart brothers, William and James JI., of 
 Scotch birth, have won high fame by their 
 landscapes. Albert Bierstadt has iirmortal- 
 ized himself by his large paintings of Rocky 
 Mountain Scenery, his views in the Yo- 
 Semite, etc. He has a very high reputation 
 abroad. Our list would be incomplete with- 
 out the names of Gifibrd, Casilear, Hub- 
 bard, Webber. Gay, Brown. Shattuck.Inness, 
 Colman, and the lamented T. Buchanan Read. 
 
 We pass now to a brief glance at the re- 
 markable performance of our young land in 
 the noble art of Sculpture, a peribrmance 
 confessedly surpassed by no modern school. 
 
 Sculpture, as the more costly art, and as 
 the less intelligible to the popular eye, of 
 course followed painting in its progress 
 among us as elsewhere. The surprise is 
 that it should have followed so speedily and 
 with such grand strides. It is possible that 
 this happy result may have sprung in a meas- 
 ure from the circumstance that our first for- 
 eign visitors and instructors in marble art 
 were men of the highest genius, instead of 
 
326 
 
 THE ARTS OF DESIGN IS AMERICA. 
 
 tlic tliird-rate talent only whicli our early 
 pa/ntcis brought to us. It is seldom amiss 
 to make a good start, and nmch is saved 
 where there is nothing left to be ?<»lcarned. 
 
 One of our first heralds of the chisel ap- 
 peared in 1791, when Ceracchi, an eminent 
 Italian sculptor, arrived at I'hiladelpliia. lie 
 was scarcely less celebrated as a revolution- 
 ist than as an artist, and leaving France when 
 the dangers there grew too thick around 
 him, he marched over to the New World, 
 with a scheme for building us a grand mar- 
 ble monument to Libert}'. His project was 
 submitted to Congress, which was then in 
 session, but that body supposed that the 
 public funds cimld be emph.iyed, at the mo- 
 ment, more advantageously in tlie cause of 
 Liberty, than in honoring lier with sculptured 
 shrines. Wasliington, ho\ve\er, gave his 
 personal assent to the idea, and headed a 
 private subscription, by means of which it 
 was hoped the required thirty thousand dol- 
 lars could be procured. Not an inch, thougli, 
 of the proposed hundred feet of stone ever 
 rose from the ground. Instead of the mon- 
 ument, the sculptor employed his chisel upon 
 busts ; and, among others, executed fine por- 
 traits of the commander-in-chief, of Alex- 
 ander Hamilton, of Thomas Jefferson, Geo. 
 Clinton, John Jav, and I'aul Jones. 
 
 On retui'iiing to France, Ceracclii's red 
 republicanism reappeared in a madder form 
 than evei-, and ho plotted to take the hated 
 life of Napoleon, then first consul, even in 
 the sanctitv of his own studio, and while ho 
 should be sitting for his bust. Ue was after- 
 ward guillotined on a charge of complicity 
 in the famous scheme of the " infernal ma- 
 chine." 
 
 Yet earlier than the time of Ceracchi's 
 residence in the United States, Iloudon, a 
 celebrated French sculptor, was invited to 
 visit this country for the express purpose of 
 perpetuating in marble the form and features 
 of Washington. The result of his visit was 
 the full-length statue which now adorns the 
 vestibule of the Capitol at riichmond, in 
 Virginia. The sculptor's leger.d on this 
 work reads thus : " J^^uit par Houdon, Cito- 
 yen Fran^ais, 1788." The Father of his 
 country is here represented of life size, and 
 in the military style of the Revolution. Tlic 
 figure stands, resting on the right foot, hav- 
 ing the left somewhat advanced, with the 
 knee bent. The left hand rests on a bundle 
 of fasecs, on which hang a military cloak and 
 & small sword, a jjlough leaning near. 
 
 Another noble statue of Washington, by 
 Canova, adorned the Capitol of North Car- 
 olina, at Raleigh, until that edifice was un- 
 happily destroyed, and the statue with it, 
 by fire, in 1831. 
 
 Of our native sculptors, perhaps the first 
 who gave indications of talent above the 
 humblest mediocrity, was John Frasee, bom 
 in Rockaway, in New Jersey, July 1 8th, 1 790. 
 A bust which ho executed in 1824 of John 
 Wells, now in Grace Church, in New York, 
 was, says Dunlap in his " Arts of Design," 
 the first portrait in marble ever attempted in 
 the United States. Ceracchi's works were 
 probably only modelled here, and were after- 
 ward put into stone at home. Frasee made 
 excellent busts of Chief Justice Marshall, of 
 Daniel Webster, and others. "He had ad- 
 vanced," adds Dunlap in 1834, "to a per- 
 fection which leaves him without a rival at 
 present in this country." To those who 
 know any thing of our sculptors of this day 
 we liardly need say, that Dunlap lived too 
 long ago to witness the real beginning of its 
 brilliant history, and that the talent of Frasee, 
 excellent as it was,. did not even indicate the 
 high r;mk the art now holds. 
 
 Shol)al Vail Clevenger, who was born at 
 Middleton, Ohio, in 1812, and died at sea in 
 1843, left behind him admirable busts of 
 Webster, Clay, Allston, Van Buren, and oth- 
 ers. His carl}' death interrupted a progress 
 which miu'lit have extended tiir toward the 
 point whirh mir sculptors have since reached. 
 
 In the year 1805, on the Cth of September, 
 Iluratio Greenough was born in Boston, to 
 fill a distinguished place in the annals of 
 American sculpture. He received his earliest 
 instruction fnun a resident French artist 
 named Einon, and at the age of twenty went 
 abroad. After modelling busts of John 
 Quincy Adams, Chief Justice Marshall, and 
 many others, he executed, at the order of 
 Feuimore Cooper, the novelist, liis Chant- 
 ing Cherubs, which was the first original 
 group from the chisel of an American artist. 
 This work was made in Florence, where he 
 had permanently established his studio at 
 this time. In 1831 he went to Paris to 
 model the bust of Lafayette, and thencefor- 
 ward received liberal commissions, especially 
 from his countrymen abroad. 
 
 Through the influence of his generous 
 friend. Cooper, he received a commission 
 fi-om Congress for the colossal statue of 
 Washington, which now stands so grandly 
 on the great lawn opposite the east front of 
 
PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENGRAVING. 
 
 327 
 
 the national Capitol. This work was com- 
 pleted in 1843, after many j-ears of indus- 
 trious toil. Amontj others of (j-reenougli's 
 works at this period, were the Medora, 
 commissioned hy Mi'. Robert Gilnior, of 
 Baltnnore ; the Venus Victrix, in the Boston 
 Athenajum ; and the Angel Abdiel. In 1856 
 lie returned to the United States to superin- 
 tend the placing at Washington of his group 
 of the Eescue, symbolizing the triumph of 
 civilization, which he had executed in fulfil- 
 ment of an order from Congress. It is sup- 
 posed that the vexatious delays in the arri- 
 val of this work from Italy, together with 
 the hurl^'-burly of American life, to which 
 his long residence abroad liad unaccustomed 
 him, contributed to induce the attack of 
 brain fever, from the effects of which he 
 died, December 18th, 1852. 
 
 Greenough was educated at Harvard, and 
 was a man of elegant attainments and accom- 
 plished manners. lie was engaged in the 
 delivery of a course of art lectures in Boston 
 at the time of his last illness. An interest- 
 ing memorial of Greenough was published 
 by the poet Tuckerman in 1853. 
 
 The first general and popular acknowledg- 
 ment, at home and abroad, of our success in 
 sculpture, was won for us by the genius of 
 Hiram Powers, and dated from the time 
 of the exhibition of his Greek Slave. Not 
 that this is by any means the best per- 
 formance our artists have reached — for other 
 men have followed with yet greater works; 
 and among these others, one, of whom wc 
 shall speak, who has cast ott' the convention- 
 alities of old art, and has, upon his own 
 native soil, not that of Europe, gone beyond 
 mere classic beauty, to the higher attainment 
 of individual and national character and 
 truth. Yet, as wc liave said, it was from 
 the popular success of this statue of the 
 Greek Slave that the world picked up and 
 recognized the fact of the genius of Ameri- 
 can sculptors. 
 
 Powers is a native of Vermont; but, like 
 most of our men of marble, resides and 
 works abroad. He established himself long 
 years ago in Florence, since which time wc 
 do not know that he ha.s even visited his 
 native land. He is an industrious worker, 
 and has made innumerable busts, in additicin 
 to his more ambitious ventures into the field 
 of poetry and the imagination. It is, in- 
 deed, in portraiture that his strength lies — 
 with a temperament more practical than 
 fanciful, and with a sympathy more with 
 
 the real than with the ideal. His colossal 
 figure of Eve, and his full-length statue 
 of Calhoun, are preserved in South Carolina. 
 In the lamented Crawford, who was bom 
 in New York, March 22d, 1814, and who 
 died in London, October 10th, 1857, we pos- 
 sessed a man of stronger and nobler grasp 
 than any of his predecessors; a man, who 
 not only could have done great tilings had he 
 lived, but who did tliem even without living 
 to the full years of ripe experience. Craw- 
 ford was a poor boy, and began his art life 
 in the humble occupati(m of a wood-carver. 
 At the age of nineteen lie was promoted to 
 a place in the studio of Frasee and Launitz, 
 in New York ; and, when about twenty-one, 
 he went to Rome, and became a pupil of the 
 Danish sculptor Thorwaldsen. Here he 
 toiled so uureniittingly that he is said to 
 have modelled no fewer than seventeen busts 
 in the space of ten weeks, besides copying, in 
 marble, the figure of Demosthenes in the 
 Vatican. In 1839, when in his twenty-fifth 
 year, he exhibited his Orpheus, with the 
 warm congratulations of his master, Thor- 
 waldsen, and other sculptors, and with the 
 hearty approval of the public. From that 
 period his fame continued to increase up to 
 the hour of his untimely death. The Or- 
 pheus — which is now in the Athenanim in 
 Boston — was followed by numerous admira- 
 ble subjects from classical and scriptural 
 history. Among his greater and later works, 
 was the remarkable statue, in bronze, of 
 Beethoven, executed for the Boston Music 
 Ilall ; and the completion of which, at the 
 foundry in Munich, was celebrated by a mu- 
 sical festival, at which the royal family of 
 Bavaria, and a grand concourse of people, 
 assisted. Afterward came the equestrian 
 statue of Washington, which now adorns 
 the Capitol hill at Richmond ; where it was 
 placed by the patriotism and liberality of 
 the people of Virginia. This great work 
 was cast in bronze in Munich, and sent home 
 in 1857. Its pedestal rests upon a star- 
 shaped elevation, with six points, upon 
 which statues of Jeft'erson, Henry, Lee, and 
 other illustrious sons of Virginia are to be 
 placed. He executed orders from Congress 
 for various works for the new Capitol, some 
 of the most successful of which were his 
 designs for the pediment and the great 
 bronze doors. His grandest effort is, per- 
 haps, the model for the colossal statue of the 
 Genius of America, which is to be cast in 
 bronze, and placed upon the pinnacle of the 
 
328 
 
 THE ARTS OF DESIGN IN AMERICA. 
 
 Capitol dome. This statue represents a fe- 
 male figure, fully draped, and posed with 
 marvellous grace and dignity. During his 
 brief career, Crawford finished more than 
 sixty works, many of them of the grand size ; 
 besides which, he left nearly as many 
 sketches in plaster, and numerous designs, 
 which liis assistants are to complete. In 
 1844, he married Miss Louisa Ward, daugh- 
 ter of the late Samuel Ward, of New York. 
 Soon after his return from his last visit to 
 his native land, in 1856, he was afflicted with 
 a cancerous tumor on the brain, from the ef- 
 fects of which he died, after ninny months 
 of acute suffering, borne with heroic pa- 
 tience. 
 
 Uenry Kirke Brown, another of the most 
 eminent of our American sculptors, was born 
 at Leyden, ilassachusotts, in 1'814. lie 
 began the study of portrait painting in 
 Boston, when eighteen j'ears of age ; and 
 afterward he became a railroad engineer in 
 Illinois, much to the injury of his health, 
 and at length repaired to Italy to pursue the 
 grave art of the statuarj'. Among his more 
 famous works, are the well-known marbles 
 of Hope; the Pleiades; the Four Seasons; 
 the bronze statue of De Witt Clinton 
 at Greenwood Cemetery, and the noble 
 equestrian stdtue of Washington, which 
 stands in Union square in the city of New 
 York. Most, if not all of these works, were 
 executed in Brooklyn, New York ; though, 
 of late years, the artist has established him- 
 self in a pleasant cottage af Newburgh, on 
 the Hudson. Brown's Washington was the 
 first statue ever cast in bronze in this 
 country. 
 
 Palmer, who is, perhaps, the most popu- 
 lar of American sculptors at the present 
 day, was born in the interior of the state of 
 New York. His noble character — no less 
 personal than professional — is seen in all the 
 interesting incidents of his career, from the 
 humblest boyhood to his present high po- 
 sition, social and artistic. In his younger 
 days he toiled hard at the carpenter's craft ; 
 afterward he rose to the dignity of a carver 
 in wood, of models and moulds for stove 
 and other iron castings ; and at length he 
 became a cutter of cameos. He was a mar- 
 ried man, with a young family growing up 
 around liim, before he finally made that ven- 
 ture in marble which has brought such 
 high honor to himself and his country. 
 His works are marked with singular sim- 
 plicity, truth, and naturalness of treatment. 
 
 and with a finish and delicacy of execution 
 rarely obtained in obdurate stone. Among 
 liis chief and best known productions, are 
 the full-length, life-like figures of the In- 
 dian Girl, and the White Captive ; the 
 Moses, and many beautiful bas-reliefs and 
 female heads, both portrait and ideal. An 
 exhibition of his collected works was made 
 a few j-cars ago, with great advantage to his 
 own fame and fortune, and to the public 
 pleasure and profit. 
 
 Launt Thompson, a young pupil of the 
 eminent sculptor above named, is pursuing 
 his art in New York with a success which 
 promises the most enviable results. 
 
 Clark Mills, a sclf-cducatcd man, in the 
 proper sense of the phrase, is known by his 
 popular equestrian statues of Jackson and 
 Washington, executed b}' the order of 
 Congress, for the embellishment of the na- 
 tional Capitol. 
 
 Harriet llosmer, of Watertown, Mass., 
 has achieved a fair fame in this ditlicult field 
 of art. The approval which followed her 
 first original work — a bust of Hesper — in- 
 duced her father to send her to Rome, where 
 she. has resided most of the time since 1852. 
 She began her studies in the eternal city, 
 as a pupil of Gibson, in 1852. Her first 
 works abroad were the busts of Da|ihne and 
 iledu-a, and a statue of OEnone. Afterward 
 came the well-known reclining figure of 
 Beatrice Cenci ; and, in 18.3o, tLe charming 
 statue of Puck, and a pendant thereto, en- 
 titled Will-o"lhc-Wisp. In 1859, she com- 
 pleteil her statue of Zenobia in Chains. 
 
 Of our other sculptors of great promise, 
 four have passed away within a few years .• 
 Benjainin Paul Akers who died May 21, 
 1801 ; E. 8. Bartholomew, at Naples, 
 Jlay 2, 1 858 ; and more recently Robert 
 Ball Hughes, an Englishman by birth, 
 wlio died in Boston, March 5, 18C8, and 
 Robert E. Launitz, who died Dec. 2, 1870. 
 Those most prominent beside those already 
 named, are Randolpli Rogers, John Q. A. 
 AVard, now vice-president of the National 
 Academy, William \V. Story, Thomas Ball, 
 John Rogers, whose groups have done so 
 much to popularize sculpture, Ives, Stone, 
 Mosier, Albert de Groot, and Gould, a young 
 countryman of ours now occupying a studio 
 in Florence. Mr. Gould has recently sent to 
 this country .an ideal statue " The West 
 Wind," which for its perfect embodiment 
 of a poetic conception has no su|)erior 
 in modern sculpture. Among others, a 
 

 enpravinp:?, representing the Seasons, are from the Farmer's Almancu:, showing the An. 
 engraving; tlie opposite page, engraved from sketches about Newport, R. I. by A. K 
 
 The above 
 derson style of engravi 
 Jocelyn, illustrates the improvement in the art. 
 
332 
 
 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENGRAVING. 
 
 young woman of color, Edmonia Lewis, are 
 still climliing the heights that lead to fome. 
 
 The love of pictures, so general among our 
 people of all grades, has been greatly fos- 
 tered and cultivated, of late years, by the 
 universal ditfusion of engravings. Besides 
 the best of this class of works, more acces- 
 sible examples, in the form of book illustra- 
 tions, and especially in illustrated inhgazines 
 .and newspapers, have been scattered, through 
 a cheap press, broadcast over the land, .and 
 have penetrated its remotest corners, doing 
 the labors of the missionary in the great 
 cause of art. It is true that those heralds — 
 the pictorial papers, at least — are not always 
 the best possible teachers ; yet have they 
 cleared the way for greater things to fol- 
 low, and it is gratifying to know that they 
 are themsehes every day reaching toward a 
 higher standard. It would, indeed, be quite 
 beyond the power of our mathematics, to 
 cipher out the good effect upon the art 
 progress of the nation, of even one of our 
 best pictori.al ni.ag.azines, with the immense 
 audience which they are wont to address; 
 such a magazine, for example, as that of the 
 Harpers — read, or at least seen, every month, 
 by millions of people. 
 
 This grand aggregate of the good influ- 
 ence of the graver, is gained througli the 
 agency, not of the ambitious steel-plate, bnt 
 the humble wood-cut. Tlie art of work- 
 ing on wood — which has thus of late be- 
 come the chief medium of the engraver, and 
 has almost superseded .all other mediums — 
 has, though .an old art, so greatly improved 
 during the eighty years life of our republic, 
 that it nia}- fairly be said to have grown up 
 with it, and in a great degree /ro;« it. 
 
 The general demand among us for cheap 
 ■ art, and the general ability to buj', at least, 
 such cheap art, obviously required the wood- 
 cut ; and so the wood-cut — which had kept 
 its humble place from a period even far 
 beyond the invention of types — was brought 
 from its obscurity, and made — in our own 
 hands, as much as in those of any people — 
 to fill its present exalted office. 
 
 The art w.as, really, almost reinvented in 
 America, and soon after the great Revolu- 
 tion, when Dr. Anderson, in 1794, loft his 
 materia medica, and set up in New York as 
 a wood-engra\er. Anderson's first consider- 
 able performance w.as the repetition, in a 
 work called the " Looking-Glass," of some 
 cuts by Bewick. Some of these pictures lie 
 executed on type metal, and only a portion 
 
 of them on the wood-block. For these he 
 had to invent his own tools, and then manu- 
 facture them. He continued to improve, 
 and all through his professional career he 
 contributed greatl}- to develop the resour- 
 ces of the art, and to put it upon the track 
 of its present mature power. In 1812, the 
 art was introduced and successfully prac- 
 tised in Boston by Abel Brown, and in 
 Philadelphia by William Mason. 
 
 About the year 1826, Mr. Adams entered 
 the profession, and by his industry and 
 skill gave it a great impetus toward the per- 
 fection to which it has since been brought. 
 The innumerable illustrations which he pro- 
 duced in his superb pictorial edition of the 
 Bible, published by the Harpers, called 
 forth all the talent which the country pos- 
 sessed in this direction, and exercised it to 
 yet greater excellence. This great work 
 served, .also, no doubt, to promote the popu- 
 lar appreciation of the art, now so univer- 
 sally m.anifested in the demand for illus- 
 tr.ated books and pictorial papers of all 
 kinds. From the time of Mr. Adams, the 
 number of our engravers on wood has 
 steadily and rapidly increased ; and so, too, 
 has the quality of their work, until the 
 present day shows us pictures on wood 
 which are, in many respects — as in delicacy 
 of finish, softness of te.xture, and vigor of 
 expression — quite equal, if not superior to 
 the best ex.amples of work on copper or steel. 
 The greater cheapness of the wood-block ; 
 its capacity of use, in printing with the 
 type (which metal plates do not possess) ; 
 and the case with which it may be dupli- 
 cated by stereotyping or by electrotypiiig — 
 have caused it to supersede copper and steel- 
 plates in a great measure, except for very 
 large and costly subjects, and for bank note 
 engraving. The invention, in recent times, 
 of Lowry's " ruling machine ;" of improv- 
 ed methods of printing, as in the process 
 called " overlaying," by means of which the 
 nearer parts of the picture are made to re- 
 ceive a stronger pressure than the more dis- 
 tant portions ; and v.arious mech.anical aids — 
 have contributed to the present wonderful 
 perfection of the art among us. The coun- 
 try now possesses a host of excellent wood 
 engravers, who find full and remunerative 
 employment. 
 
 For the finer class of wood-engravings, 
 box-wood (imported chiefly from Germany) 
 is used ; while, for coarser and larger work, 
 that of the pear-tree will answer, and some- 
 
FIUST M\P EXGR.WEIi IX THE UNITED STATES IX IIAISKD LETTERS. 
 
 MM' <IF THE h'KESKNT TIME IN RAISED LETTERS. 
 
T?:^ 
 
THE ARTS OF DESIGN IN AMERICA. 
 
 333 
 
 times even tliat of the apple-tree, beech, and 
 even mahogany and pine. The wood is cut 
 across the ends of tlie fibre, of tlie thiclcncss 
 of type ; and after being smoothly planed, 
 a thin covering of white is rubbed over the 
 surface ; after which the drawing to be en- 
 gi'aved is made upon it with a lead pen- 
 cil, or with India-ink, or both combined. 
 The block is then cut away with the graver, 
 in such manner as to leave the lines of the 
 drawing all in rcUef, like type. On copper 
 or steel, on the contrary, the drawing is stink 
 into the plate, and is necessarily printed with 
 greater slowness and care, and at a greater 
 cost. In engravings printed in colors, a 
 separate block is made for each tint. 
 
 Copper-plate engraving is an art as old, 
 almost, as xylography or wood-cutting. A 
 picture upon this metal is preserved in Ger- 
 many of as ancient a date as 14G1. Instead of 
 the simple wooden blocks of other days, our 
 cotton manufacturers now print their calicoes 
 front copper plates of cylindrical form, by 
 which improvement the fabrics are made in- 
 finitely more beautiful and greatly cheaper. 
 Most of the larger print-works employ skil- 
 ful artists and engravers to produce their de- 
 signs, paying them large salaries for their 
 labors. In some establishments thousands 
 of dollars are thus profitably expended each 
 year. Copper-plate engraving, after reaching 
 the highest degree of excellence, both at 
 home and abroad, has, within the present 
 century, given way in a great measure to 
 the superior capacity of the steel plate, a 
 capacity revealed to the world and developed 
 in the highest degree by Jacob Perkins, of 
 Newburyport, in Massaclinsetts. Wr. Per- 
 kins, who began his experiments about 1805, 
 may, indeed, almost be said to have invented 
 steel engraving, since the metal had been 
 used only once before his time, in an English 
 print in Smith's "Topographical Illustrations 
 of ^A'cstminster." Mr. I'erkins discovered 
 the present invaluable processes by which 
 the steel plate is so hardened after being 
 engraved, that by the pressure upon it of 
 other soft plates, the picture can be trans- 
 ferred in relief and again repeated so as to 
 duplicate the work to any extent. The first 
 impression in relief, from which duplicates 
 of the original engraving are made, is taken 
 upon a soft steel cylinder by repeated roll- 
 ings over the hardened plate. By this pro- 
 cess any bank note vignettes can be trans- 
 ferred, in combination, at will, from the sep- 
 arate original plates to the steel cylinder, and 
 20 * 
 
 from that to other plates for the printer. 
 The product is thus greatly cheapened, inas- 
 much as all the pictures, the central vignette, 
 the end scene or portrait, and the bottom or 
 tail piece, usually put upon a bank note, can 
 bo furnished for the cost of a special engrav- 
 ing of one of them. Mr. Perkins' system 
 is employed throughout England and the 
 continent of Europe, no less than all over 
 the United States. By it the art of bank 
 note engraving has been so perfected among 
 us that only the highest skill and the costliest 
 machinery can now produce successful coun- 
 terfeits. Nothing remained but to insure the 
 hank note against the wonderful power of 
 the art of photography, and this security our 
 engravers and paper makejs have provided. 
 In 1858-9 the principal bank note engravers 
 of the country formed themselves into two 
 associations, the American and the National 
 Bank Note Companies, and in the early 
 years of the National Banks, they prepared 
 for the government the elaborate engravings 
 of the National Bank Notes, as well as the 
 simpler plates of tlie Legal Tender Notes. 
 These notes and National Bank notes hav- 
 ing now become the only bank circulation 
 of the country, they are prepared liy the 
 government. Among the succestful Ameri- 
 can steel engravers of bank notes and other 
 works, are Durand, Smillie, Cheney, Sar- 
 tain, Danforth, Dick, Casilear, and Alfred 
 Jones. Engraving on copper or steel is 
 practiced in its most simple form, called 
 line engraving, by covering the face of the 
 polished metal with a thin surface of melted 
 white wax ; on this the sketch is transferred by 
 laying, face down, a tracing of the design in 
 black lead pencil upon the wax, and subject- 
 ing it to a heavy pressure ; the lines arc 
 then seen distinctly upon the wax when the 
 paper is removed. The workman then with 
 a tine graver makes thelines through upon the 
 metal ; after which the wax is melted oft' and 
 the engraver proceeds to complete the work 
 by cutting the lines to the proper depth and 
 shade. The graver, when in use, is pressed 
 forward, cutting a furrow and raising burrs 
 on oacli side. The burr, pushed up by the 
 graver in its progress, is removed by the 
 scraper. Lines are softened by rubbing over 
 with a smoothly pointed burnisher. In 
 some instances the burrs made by the finest 
 etching needles being allowed to remain, 
 produce a pleasing ett'ect, seen in some of 
 Rembrandt's engravings. The parallel lines 
 that are sometimes required in series are 
 
334 
 
 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENGRAVING. 
 
 cut by a ruling macliine. The fainter shades, 
 too delicate for the graver, are scratched 
 in with a needle. 
 
 In the stippling or dotted st3de, the effect 
 is produced by dots made in curved lines, 
 with the graver. The more cIosel_v the dots 
 arc grouped together, the darker the shade, 
 and the whole effect is more like painting 
 than the lino engraving. In the shadows of 
 the limbs of the human figure it is much 
 used, and sometimes in portraits the line and 
 stipple are combined with good effort. 
 
 The stj'Ie called etching is practised upon 
 other metals, also upon glass. By this pro- 
 cess the coating of wax is formed of white 
 wax, Burgundy pitch, and asphaltum, and is 
 applied in silk bags, through which the com- 
 position oozes. Whonthe plate is covered it is 
 held over a smokinglamp untilthe wax iscov- 
 ered with lamp-blaok. The lead pencil design 
 is then laid upon this lamp-black and pressed. 
 The lines are then drawn through the wax, 
 and nitric acid with four parts water 
 is poured upon the plate. This remains 
 until the fainter portions of the sketch 
 are corroded. The acid is then poured off 
 and the plate washed with water. An appli- 
 cation of lamp-black and turpentine, calletl 
 stopping, is applied with a camel's hair 
 brush to those pjortions sufficiently corroded ; 
 a reapplieation of the acid eats deeper into 
 those parts that require deeper lines. This 
 process of stopping is repeated until the 
 work is complete. Being then cleaned of 
 the wax, those portions of the plate that re- 
 quire it are gone over with the graver, and 
 not unfrequently the shades are stippled. 
 
 Aquatinta is a French invention of 1662, 
 and takes its name from tlie resemblance it 
 lias to water colors on India-ink drawings. 
 After the design is etched in outline and the 
 wax removed, a solution of Burgundy pitch 
 in alcohol is poured over the plate as it lies in 
 an inclined position. The alcohol evaporat- 
 ing, the pitch remains. The design is then 
 draw'n with a gummy syrup called the burst- 
 ing-ground, which is applied only wherever a 
 shade is wanted. The whole is then covered 
 with a turpentine varnish ; water being left 
 on it for fifteen minutes, the bursting-ground 
 cracks open and exposes the copper. The 
 etching process is then pursued. Sometimes 
 colors are applied .and printed from the plate ; 
 but when there arc dift'ercnt tints, it is cus- 
 tomary to use a distinct plate for each one. 
 
 The mezzotinto, or lialf-paintcd styl-e, was 
 introduced into England by I'rince liupert. 
 
 The invention Las been ascribed to Sir Chris- 
 topher Wren. The plate is roughed up by 
 running over its surface little toothed wheels 
 of different degrees of fineness, called cradles, 
 which by a I'ocking motion arc caused to 
 raise little burrs, pointing in different direc- 
 tions. The whole plate being thus made 
 rough, the burrs are rubbed off with scrapers, 
 wherever light shades are required, and the 
 shades are deepened by increasing the burrs. 
 The effect is tine where dark grounds are 
 desired. This method combined with etching, 
 produces an improved style. Some mezzo- 
 tints are now prepared for the trade by a 
 machine. The prints wear much better on 
 steel than on copper. 
 
 Admirable examples of these branches of 
 the art may be seen in the superb landscape 
 works of Sinillie, especially those from the 
 four pictures of Cole's Voyage of Life, in 
 Durand's works after Vanderlyn's, in our 
 many beautiful illustrated books, in the pub- 
 lications of the late American Art Union, and, 
 as alre;idy intimated, in the dainty vignettes 
 which embellish our bank notes. 
 
 In the art of die sinking — a process con- 
 ducted in a similar manner to that already 
 described of the transfer in relief of the im- 
 pression from a hardened plate or plug of 
 steel to a soft plate, and from that again, 
 when hardened, to yet another — many admi- 
 rable works have been produced. Excellent 
 examples may be seen in the medals of AU- 
 ston, Stuart, and other subjects executed for 
 the American Art Union by the late C. C. 
 Wright. 
 
 By the assistance of the electrotype pro- 
 cess, the work of the engraver is now rc])eat- 
 cd, iu as many copies as may be desired, 
 each of the copper transcripts thus produced 
 being an absolute duplicate of the original 
 plate or block. It is these eleetrotyped cop- 
 ies which are now used by the printer, the 
 same picture sometimes on several presses at 
 once, while the original wood block is pre- 
 served untouched, except to form the mould 
 for other copies in metal when they may be 
 required. The effect of tliis power of per- 
 fect and inexpensive repetition of engraved 
 blocks has been to reduce the cost of picto- 
 rial illustrations to a point within the com- 
 pass of the most unpretending purse, and 
 thus to send good examples of the engraver's 
 art to the remotest and humblest corners of 
 the land. 
 
 What may be the consequences of the 
 many processes, now more or less perfected, 
 
THE ARTS OF DESIGN 1,V AMERICA. 
 
 335 
 
 for the ineclianical production of engraving 
 by the aid of photography, it is hardly pos- 
 sible to imiigine : not other than advantage- 
 ous, however, even to the engravers them- 
 selves, since their field of labor will be high- 
 er, if not broader, when their pictures shall 
 be, as they promise to be, not. only drawn 
 for them on their plates and blocks by pho- 
 tography, but even etched and engraved be- 
 sides. 
 
 In the art of lithography, or drawing upon 
 stone, a steady advance may be witnessed ; 
 though our works of this class cannot yet 
 claim comparison with those of the conti- 
 nent of Europe. 
 
 The introduction of the daguerreotype, the 
 perfection to which the art has been brought 
 in the skilful hands of American operators, 
 and the immense extent to which it is used 
 among us, (apart from its share in the work 
 of other arts), have had, no iloubt, a most 
 wonderful influence upon our art progress. 
 Furnishing pictures which are, through their 
 cheapness, accessible to all classes, it has 
 worked, like the engraving, as an elementary 
 instructor, while its truthfulness has been a 
 constant lesson to the artist himself Better 
 pictures have, iniquestionably, been painted 
 through the hints of the daguerreotj'pe and 
 photogra]ih ; and many people who, but for 
 them would never have dreamed of pictures, 
 have become intelligent lovers and liberal 
 jiatrons of the arts. 
 
 The art of color printing is not very new, 
 but it is only within a few years past that it 
 has been brought to such perfection by the 
 processes of chromo-lithography as to be 
 able to reproduce paintings, within certain 
 limitations of size and color, so exactly as to 
 make it difficult to distinguish the copies from 
 the original painting. The process has other 
 limitations even than these ; it requires slow 
 and careful, almost painful manipulation 
 sometimes for months, and the printer mu-t 
 be himself an artist, at least in his taste and 
 his knowledge and skill in the blending of 
 colors. He will even, at the best, meet with 
 frequent failures ; but notwithstanding all 
 these limiUitions, chromo-lithography, as 
 now practiced by the best artists, is a boon 
 to the woi'ld second only to the sun pictures. 
 It has made it possiljle for persons of small 
 means and but just develojiing taste for art, 
 to obtain gems of art, every flay superior to 
 the average copies of celebrated pictures, 
 and thus awaken a love for the really beau- 
 
 tiful which will grow until it makes the hum- 
 ble purciiaser in time, a muuiticent patron 
 of art. The process as now practised by 
 Messrs.Colton, Zahm and Roberts, L. Prang 
 & Co., E. Ketterlinus & Co., and others, re- 
 quires a very searching and accurate analy- 
 sis of the colors and combinations of color 
 which will produce the required effect of the 
 picture selected for copying, and then an 
 accurate copy of the picture in outline hav- 
 ing been made on stone it is printed first 
 with a single uniform tint. Then by suc- 
 cessive printings each time from a different 
 stone, the colors and combinations are laid, 
 on, the utmost care being taken to make the 
 register perfect each time so as to give the 
 perfect copy of the original without blurring 
 or commingling the colors unduly. Between 
 each printing ample time must be given for 
 the pigments to dry and harden. After all 
 the printings are done, the picture is var- 
 nished and then embossed or subjected to 
 pressure on a grained surface of stone or 
 metal, by whicii process the glossy liglits are 
 broken, the hard outlines softened, and the 
 appearance of canvas is given to it. If all 
 these steps have been properly taken, and 
 guided by real artistic taste and knowledge, 
 the picture once mounted and framed will 
 have all the effect of the original. The cost 
 of production, which is very considerable, is 
 greatly reduced on each copy, from the fact 
 that five hundred, one thousand, or more, 
 can be printed from the same plates, and 
 though there will be some defective copies, 
 yet with proper care, the greater part will 
 be perfect. 
 
 We must not, in ever so cursory a glance 
 at the history of the arts, forget the service 
 of our academies and schools of painting, 
 little as some affect to think of art academies 
 — so far, at least, as their honorary charac- 
 ter is concerned. 
 
 The first attempt to found an institution 
 of this natui-e in the United States, was 
 made in Philadelphia, in 1791, by Charles 
 Wilson Peale, the father of the painter, 
 Rembrandt Peale. The elder Peale was a 
 very energetic laborer in the cause of art, all 
 through his long life. This first attempt of 
 his to found an academy, was seconded by 
 the Italian sculptor Ceracchi, who was in the 
 country at the time. The attempt fiiiled, 
 however, from some cause or other, and a 
 second and rather more fortunate venture 
 was made in 1704, when the Columbianum 
 
336 
 
 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENGRAVING. 
 
 was established. This society lived a year, 
 held one exhibition, and was forgotten. 
 
 In 1802, some art-loving citizens of New 
 York, headed by Edward Livingston, found- 
 ed the New York, afterward the American 
 Academy of Fine Arts. There were so few 
 artists in this society, and the governing in- 
 fluence was so little of a jn'ofessional charac- 
 ter, that it was an academy of art only in 
 name, and quite failed in its office of an acad- 
 emy. The necessary result was an inefficient 
 life, until it was, in due time, superseded by 
 a better organized establishment. This re- 
 sult followed in 1826, in the institution of 
 the present National Academy of Design. 
 
 The National Academy, thus founded by 
 Morse, and his brother artists of the period, 
 has steadily advanced to this day in position 
 and usefulness, and now numbers among its 
 academicians and associates nearly all the 
 leading painters of the land. Its annual ex- 
 hibitions have been prepared, without inter- 
 ruption, from 1826 until now, with a cata- 
 logue of works extended gi'adually from less 
 than two hundred, to over eight hundred, 
 and with an aggregate of receipts from less 
 than nothing up to six or seven thousand 
 dollars annually. The academy has always 
 supported free (evening) schools for the study 
 of the antique statuary, and the living models ; 
 schools, to which any student has access, 
 when coming with the required preparatory 
 knowledge of the use of the crayon. Mem- 
 bership in the academy, except in the grade 
 of " student," is awarded only to professional 
 artists, and then by ballot, as a mark of hon- 
 orary distinction. The progress of art in 
 America during the last forty or fifty years 
 cannot be better seen than in the continued 
 growth of the National Academy, and in its 
 present large and varied exhibitions as com- 
 pared with those of days gone by. An art 
 academy was founded in Brooklyn, N. Y., in 
 1867, which is in a very flourishing condition. 
 
 The Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts 
 in Philadelphia is doing a good work, though 
 it is not so fully an association of artists only 
 as is the National Academy at New York. 
 
 Conducted in part by laymen, it labors under 
 some of the disadvantages of the old super- 
 seded American Academy. It was founded 
 as early as 1807, and is now a flourishing 
 and most useful institution, keeping a valu- 
 able permanent gallery always open to the 
 puljlic view, and providing besides an annual 
 display of the current jiroductions of our 
 artists. It possesses also a fine collection of 
 casts from the antique, gratuitously accessi- 
 ble to all students. 
 
 The art gallery of the Athenannn in Bos- 
 ton, serves, in a measure, the purposes of an 
 academy in that city. Of late years Acad- 
 emies of Art have sprung up in some form, 
 and with more or less success, in many other 
 of our chief cities, as in Baltimore, Charles- 
 ton, Brooklyn, Chicago, St. Louis, Cincin- 
 nati, and elsewhere, giving us a fair prom- 
 ise of picture galleries anil facilities for art 
 study, as general and as liberal as our wants 
 demand. 
 
 Besides these institutions for the use of the 
 profession itself, there is happily a rapid ex- 
 tension throughout the Union of drawuig 
 schools for all classes of the population. 
 Professorships of drawing are being intro- 
 duced into our universities and colleges, and 
 a higher standard is being everywhere set 
 up in our seminaries of all grades. Schools 
 of Design for women are springing up in our 
 larger cities, and such an institution has 
 been in successful operation in connection 
 with the Cooper Union of New York for 
 thirteen or fourteen years past, under the 
 highest promise of successful result. When 
 the principles of art become universally 
 known to us, as we have good cause to be- 
 lieve they soon will be, we shall realize the 
 fact not only in the increased excellence and 
 fame of our pictures and our sculptures, but 
 in the higher beauty, utility, and value of 
 our manufactures and fabrics of all kinds, 
 from the rarest luxury to the simplest article 
 of necessary use. In another and less ma- 
 terial sense wo shall feel it and enjoy it, in 
 breathing the air of a more refined and more 
 beautiful social and national life. 
 
^C£-)^i<i^ /^aAy?^ayi^/iLP' 
 
EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL mSTITUTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE 
 COLONIAL PERIOD. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 , The origin, nomenclature, and early pe- 
 culiarities of the systems, institutions, and 
 metliods of instruction adopted in tlio origi- 
 nal colonies, which now constitute a portion 
 of the United States of America, will be 
 found in the educational institutions and 
 practices of the countries from which these 
 colonies were settled — modified b}' the edu- 
 cation, character, motives of emigration, and 
 necessities of the settlers themselves. 
 
 The earliest eftbrt to establish an education- 
 al institution in the English dominions in 
 America, was made under the auspices of 
 King James I, and by contributions of mem- 
 bers of the Church of England from 1618 to 
 16-23. In a letter addressed to the Arch- 
 bishops, he authorizes them to invite the 
 members of the Church throughout the king- 
 dom to assist "those undertakers of that 
 Plantation [Virginia], with the erecting of 
 some churches and schools for the education 
 of the children of those barbarians" [the 
 Aborigines] and of the colonists. Under 
 these instructions, a sum of £1500 was col- 
 lected for the erection of a building for a col- 
 lege at Henrico — a town whose foundations, 
 or site even, cannot now be certainly deter- 
 mined, but which according to the best author- 
 ities was situated near Varina on Cox's Island, 
 about fifty miles above Jamestown. Author- 
 ity was given by the Company to the Gov- 
 ernor to set apart 10,000 acres of land for 
 the support of the college, and one hun- 
 dred colonists were sent from England to 
 occupy and cultivate the same, who were to 
 receive a moiety of the produce as the profit 
 of their labor, and to pay the other moiety 
 toward the maintenance of the college. In 
 1620, George Thorpe was sent out as super- 
 intendent, and 300 acres of land was set 
 apart for his sustenance. Other donations 
 
 and legacies were made for the endowment 
 of this institution of learning. 
 
 In 1619, the Governor for the time be- 
 ing was instructed by the company to see 
 ■' that each town, borough, and hundred 
 procured by just means a certain number 
 of their children to be brought up in the 
 first elements of literature ; that the most 
 towardly of them should be fitted for college, 
 in the building which they purposed to pro- 
 ceed as soon as any profit arose from the 
 estate appropriated to that use ; and they 
 earnestly required their help in that pious 
 and important work." In 1621,. Rev. Mr. 
 Copeland, chaplain of the Royal James, on 
 her arrival from the East Indies, prevailed 
 on the ship's comjiany to subscribe £100 
 toward a " free sohoole" in the colony of 
 Virginia, and collected other donations in 
 mouey and books for the same purpose. 
 The school was located in Charles City, as 
 being most central for the colony, and was 
 called the " East India School." The com- 
 pany allotted one thousand acres of land, with 
 five servants and an overseer, for the mainten- 
 ance of the master anil usher. The inhabitants 
 made a contribution of £1 500 to build a house, 
 for which workmen were sent out in 1622. 
 
 The "college" and "free school" thus 
 projected and partially endowed were in the 
 style of the " college" and " free school" and 
 the " free grammar school" of England, and 
 were intended to be of the same character as 
 the college afterward established at Cam- 
 bridge, and the institution for which " the 
 richer inhabitants" of Boston in 1G36 sub- 
 scribed toward " the maintenance of a free 
 schoolmaster," and the same as, according to 
 Governor Winthrop, in his journal, was erect- 
 ed in Roxbury in 1645, and other towns, and 
 for which every inhabitant bound some 
 house or land for a yearly allowance for- 
 ever, and many benevolently disposed per- 
 sons left legacies in their last wills, and the 
 towns made " an allowance out of the com- 
 mon stock," or set apart a portion of land 
 
338 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 "to be improved forever, for the maiuten" 
 ance of a free schoole forever." 
 
 The same leading idea can be traced in 
 the educational policy of the Dutch West 
 India Company — which bound itself, in re- 
 ceiving its charter of colonization, "to main- 
 tain good and fit preachers, schoolmasters, 
 and comforters of the sick." The company 
 recognized the authority of the established 
 Church of Holland, and the establishment 
 of schools and the appointment of school- 
 masters rested conjointly with the company 
 and the classis (ecclesiastical authorities) of 
 Amsterdam. When the company granted 
 a special " Charter of Freedom and Exemp- 
 tions" to the " Patroons," for the purpose 
 of agricultural colonization, they were not 
 only to satisfy the Indians for the lands 
 upon which they should settle, but were to 
 make prompt provision for the support of 
 a minister and schoolmaster, that thus the 
 service of God and zeal for religion might not 
 grow cold, and be neglected among them. 
 In 1633, in the enumeration of the compa- 
 ny's oflicials at Manhattan, Adam Koeland- 
 sen is mentioned as the schoolmaster, and 
 that school, it is claimed, is still in existence 
 in connection with the Reformed Dutch 
 Church of New York. In the projected 
 settlement at New Amstel on the Delaware, 
 the first settlers were encouraged to proceed 
 by certain conditions, one of which was that 
 the city of Amsterdam should send thither 
 "a proper person for a schoolmaster;" and 
 we find among the colonists who embarked, 
 " Evert Pietersen, who had been approved, 
 after examination before the classis, as school- 
 master." In these early eflorts to establish 
 schools, we trace the educational policy of 
 the Reformed Church of Holland as indi- 
 cated by the synod of Wesel in 1568, and 
 matured at the synod of Dort in 1G18, by 
 which the training of Christian youth w'as 
 to be provided for — " I. Jn the house, by 
 parents. II. In the schools, hy schoolmas- 
 ters. III. In the churches, by ministers, 
 elders, and the cateckists esjjccially ajjpoint- 
 ed for this purpose.'''' Owing in part to the 
 commercial purposes entertained by the 
 companies having charge of the coloniza- 
 tion of New York, Virginia, and some other 
 portions of the country, and to the edu- 
 cational and religious institutions of the 
 colonists being not so much a matter of do- 
 mestic as of foreign policy, these institu- 
 tions never commanded the regular and 
 
 constant attention of the local authorities, 
 or of the settlers themselves. 
 
 The outline and most of the essential feat- 
 ures of the system of common schools now 
 in operation in the New England states, and 
 the states which have since avowedly adopt- 
 ed the same policy, will be found in the 
 practice of the first settlers of the several 
 towns which composed the original colonies 
 of Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Now Ha- 
 ven. The first law on the subject did but 
 little more than declare tlie motive, and make 
 more widcl)' obligatory the practice which 
 already existed in the several neighborhoods 
 and towns, which had grown up out of the ed- 
 ucation of these colonists at home, and the cir- 
 cumstances in which they were placed. They 
 did not come here as isolated individuals, 
 drawn together from widely separated homes,' 
 entertaining broad dift'erences of opinion on 
 all matters of civil and religious concernment, 
 and kept together by the necessity of self- 
 defence in the eager prosecution of some tem- 
 porary but profitable adventure. They came 
 after God had set them in tamilies, and they 
 brought with tliem the best pledges of good 
 behavior, in the relations which father and 
 mother, husband and wife, parents and chil- 
 dren, neighbors and friends, establish. They 
 came with a foregone conclusion of perma- 
 nence, and with all the elements of the social 
 state combined in vigorous activity — every 
 man expecting to find or make occupation 
 in the way in which he had been already 
 trained. They came with earnest religious 
 convictions, made more earnest by the trials 
 of persecution ; and the enjoyment of these 
 convictions was a leading motive in their 
 emigration hither. The fundamental articles 
 of their religious creed, that the Bible was 
 the only authoritative expression of the di- 
 vine will, and that ever}' man was able to 
 judge for himself in its interpretation, made 
 schools necessary, to bring all persons "to a 
 knowledge of the Scriptures," and an under- 
 standing " of the main grounds and princi- 
 ples of the Christian religion necessary to 
 salvation." The constitution of civil gov- 
 ernment adopted by them from the_ out- 
 .sct, which declared all civil officers elective, 
 and gave to e^■ery inhabitant who would take 
 the oath of allegiance the right to vote and 
 to be voted for, and which practically con- 
 verted political society into a partnership, in 
 which each member liad the right to bind 
 the whole firm, made universal education 
 
EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT -IN THE COLONIAL PERIOD. 
 
 339 
 
 identical with self-preservation. But aside 
 from these considerations, the natural and 
 acknowledged leaders in this enterprise — 
 the men who, hy their religious character, 
 wealth, social position, and previous expe- 
 rience in conducting large business oper- 
 ations, commanded puhllc confidence in 
 church and commonwealth, were educated 
 men — as highly and thoroughlv educated 
 as they could be at the best endowed free 
 and grammar schools in England at that 
 period; and not a few of them had en- 
 joyed the advantages of her great univer- 
 sities. These men would naturall}' seek for 
 their own children the best opportunities 
 of education which could be provided ; and 
 it is the crowning glory of these men, that, 
 instead of sending their own children back 
 to England to be educated in grammar 
 schools and colleges, these institutions were 
 established here amid the stumps of the pri- 
 meval forests ; that, instead of setting up 
 " famil)' schools" and " select schools" for 
 the ministers' sons and magistrates' sons, tlie 
 ministers and magistrates were found, not 
 only in town meeting, pleading for an allow- 
 ance out of the common treasury for the 
 support of a public or common school, and 
 in some instances for a " free school," hut 
 among the families, entreating parents of all 
 classes to send their children to the same 
 school with their own. All this was done 
 in advance of any legislation on the subject, 
 as will be seen from the following facts 
 gleaned from the early records of several of 
 the towns first planted. 
 
 TOWN ACTION IN DEIIALF OF SCHOOLS. 
 
 The earliest records of most of the towns 
 of New England are either obliterated or 
 lost, but among the oldest entries which 
 can now be recovered, the school is men- 
 tioned not as a new thing, but as one of the 
 established interests of socictv, to be looked 
 after and provided for as much as roads 
 and bridges and protection from the Indians. 
 In the first book of records of the town of 
 Boston, under date of April 13, 1634, after 
 providing by ordinance for the keeping of 
 the cattle by " brother Cheesbrough," " it 
 was then generally agreed upon that our 
 brother Philemon Purinont shall be entreat- 
 ed to become schoolmaster for the teaching 
 and nurturing of children with us." This 
 was doubtless an elementary school, for in 
 1636 we find a subscription entered on 
 the records of the town " by the richer 
 
 inhabitants," " for the maintenance of a free 
 schoolmaster, for the youtli with us — Mr. 
 Daniel Maude being now also chosen there- 
 unto." Mr. Maude was a clergyman, a title 
 at that day and in that community which 
 was evidence of his being an educated man. 
 This "free school" was, in the opinion of the 
 writer, not necessarily a school of gratuitous 
 instruction for all, but an endowed school 
 of a higher grade, of the class of the Eng- 
 lish grammar school, in which many of the 
 first settlers of New England had received 
 their own education at home. Toward the 
 maintenance of this school, the town, in 
 1G42, in advance of any legislation by the 
 General Court, ordered " Deer Island to be 
 improved," and several persons made be- 
 quests in their last wills. Similar provision 
 can be cited from the early records of Salem, 
 Cambridge, Dorchester, and other towns of 
 ilassachusetts Bay. 
 
 The early records of the town of Hartford 
 are obliterated, but within seven years after 
 the first log-house was erected, thirty pounds 
 are appropriated to the schools, and in April, 
 1643, it is ordered "that Mr. Andrews shall 
 teach the children in the school one year," 
 and "he shall have for his pains £1G, and 
 therefore the townsmen shall go and inquire 
 who will engage themselves to send their 
 children ; and all that do so, shall pay for one 
 quarter, at the least, and for more if they do 
 send them, after the proportion of twenty 
 shillings the year; and if they go any week 
 more than one quarter, they shall pay six- 
 pence a week ; and if any would send their 
 children and are not able to pay for their 
 teaching, they shall give notice of it to the 
 townsmen, and they shall pay it at the town's 
 charge." Mention is also made of one " Goody 
 Betts," who kept a " Dame School" after the 
 fashion of Shenstone's " schoolmistress" at 
 Lcasower, in England. Similar entries are 
 found in the town records of Windsor and 
 Wethersfield in advance of any school code 
 by the colony of Connecticut. 
 
 The records of the town of New Haven are 
 full of .evidence of the interest taken by the 
 leading spirits of the colon}', particular!}- by 
 Governor Theophilus Eaton and Rev. John 
 Davenport, in behalf of schools of every grade, 
 and of the education of every class, from the 
 apprentice boy to those who filled the high 
 places in church and state. The first settle- 
 ment of the colony was in 1638, and within a 
 year a transaction is recorded, which, while 
 it proves the existence of a school at that 
 
340 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 early period, also proclaims the protection 
 which the first settlers extended to the indi- 
 gent, and their desire to make elementary ed- 
 ucation universal. In 1639, Thomas Fugill 
 is required by the court to keep Charles 
 Higiuson, an indentured apprentice, " at 
 school one year ;" or else to advantage him 
 as much in his education as a year's learning 
 comes to. In 1641, the town orders "that 
 a Free School be set up," and " our pastor, 
 Mr. Davenport, together with the magistrates, 
 shall consider what yearly allowance is meet 
 to be given to it out of the common stock 
 of the town, and also what rules and orders 
 are meet to be observed in and about the 
 same." To this school " that famous school- 
 master," Ezekiel Cheever,* "was appoint- 
 ed," " for the better training up of youth in 
 this town, that, through God's blessing, they 
 ma}' be fitted for public service hereafter, 
 in church or commonwealth." Not con- 
 tent w'itli a Grammar School, provision was 
 early made for " the relief of poor scholars 
 at the college at Cambridge," and in 164.5 
 forty bushels of wheat were sent forward for 
 this purpose, and this was followed by other 
 donations, and by a richer consignment of 
 young men to enjoy the advantages of the 
 institution. In 1647, in the distribution of 
 home lots, it was ordered in town meeting, 
 that the magistrates " consider and reserve 
 what lot they shall see meet, and most com- 
 modious for a college, which they desire may 
 be set up so soon as their ability will reach 
 thereunto." Among the active promoters 
 of education and schools, the name of Gov- 
 ernor Eaton, in connection with Mr. Daven- 
 port, is particularly prominent. In 1652, 
 he calls a meeting of tlie magistrates and 
 elders " to let tliem know what he has done 
 for a schoolmaster ;" that he had written a 
 letter to one Mr. Bower, a schoolmaster of 
 Plymouth, and another to Ilev. Mr. Lan- 
 dron, a scholar; and many of the town 
 thought tliere would be need of two school- 
 masters — " one to teach boys to read and 
 write," as well as the "Latin schoolmaster." 
 At another time he reports his correspond- 
 ence with a teacher in Wethersficld, then 
 with one at old Plymouth, and again with 
 one at Norwalk, " so that the town might 
 never be without a sufficient schoolmaster." 
 He seems to have been considerate of the 
 health of the teachers, and proposes to ex- 
 
 *See Barnard's American Teachers and JSJucatvrs, 
 vol i., art. "Ezekiel Cheever." 
 
 cuse one " whose health would not allow 
 him to go on with the work of teachintr," 
 which he seems to regard as more laborious 
 than that of the ministry. On another oc- 
 casion he introduces to the committee a 
 schoolmaster who has come to treat about 
 the school. lie is allowed £20 a year, and 
 .30 shillings for his expenses in travel, besides 
 his board and lodgings. He wished to have 
 liberty to visit his friends, " which he pro- 
 posed to be in harvest time, and that his 
 pay be such as wherewith he may buy 
 books." These particulars show the consid- 
 erate interest taken by men in local authori- 
 ty in the school and the teacher, in advance 
 of any directory or compulsory legislation 
 of the colony of New Haven. It was owing, 
 in part, to the timely suggestions of Re\'. 
 Mr. Davenport, that Gov. Edward Hopkins, 
 of Connecticut, by liis will, dated London, 
 March 7, 1657, bequeathed the residue of his 
 estate (after disposing of much of his estate 
 in New England) to trustees residing in New 
 Haven and Harttord, "in full assurance of 
 their trust and faithfulness" in disposing of 
 it, " to give some encouragement in those 
 foreign plantations for the breeding up of 
 hopeful youths both at the grammar school 
 and college, for the public service of the 
 country in future times." By the final dis- 
 position and distribution of this estate three 
 grammar schools were established at New 
 Haven, Hartford, and Iladley, which are in 
 existence at this day, among the oldest insti- 
 tutions of this class in America. 
 
 The early records of the several towns 
 which subsequently constituted a portion of 
 the colony of New Hampshire, exhibit evi- 
 dence of a difiercnt character and spirit in 
 the first settlers. The plantations on the 
 Piscataqua river were made by proprietors 
 from mere commercial motives, and the set- 
 tlers were selected in reference to immediate 
 success in that direction ; and in these settle- 
 ments we find no trace of any individual or 
 town action in behalf of education until 
 after their union with the colony of Massa- 
 chusetts, whose laws made the establishment 
 of schools obligatory. 
 
 In the early records of the Rhode Island 
 and Providence Plantations, we find traces 
 of the same educational policy which mark- 
 ed the early history of towns in M;issachu- 
 setts and Connecticut. According to Cal- 
 lender, in Newport, "so early as 1640, Mr. 
 Lenthal was by vote called to keep a public 
 school for the learning of youth, and for 
 
EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE COLONIAL PERIOD. 
 
 341 
 
 liis encouragement there were granted to 
 him and his heirs, one liiindred acres of land, 
 and four more for a house lot. It was also 
 voted that one hundred acres should be ap- 
 propriated for a school for encouragement 
 of the poorer sort to train up their youth in 
 learning. And Mr. Robert Lenthal, while 
 he continues to keep school, is to have the 
 benefit thereof." The proprietors of other 
 plantations reserved a portion of land for 
 the maintenance of schools, and generally 
 of a " free schoole ;" and " Mr. Schoolmas- 
 ter Turpin," petitions the town of Provi- 
 dence, that he and his heirs, so long as an}- 
 of them should maintain the worthy art of 
 learning, may be invested in the lands set 
 apart for a school. 
 
 These citations show the action of the 
 towns independent of an}' general legislation 
 by the several colonies of New England — 
 action prompted by their own consciousness 
 of the advantages of education in " Dame 
 Schools," in "Free Schools," in "Grammar 
 Schools" and in "Colleges" at home — aided 
 by the presence among them of "masters" 
 and "ushers," and also of "schoolmasters" 
 and '■ schoolma'ams" willing to engage in 
 the same vocations in the new townships and 
 villages — stimulated by magistrates and min- 
 isters, who had themselves received the best 
 education that such schools could give in 
 England, who inculcated the reading of the 
 Scriptures as of daiU' obligation, and who 
 believed that the foundations of the state 
 should be laid in the virtue and intelligence 
 of the whole people. 
 
 COLONIAL LEGISLATION AND ACTION. 
 
 We shall now notice briefly the legislation 
 respecting children and schools of each of 
 the colonies, in the order of their settlement. 
 
 Virginia. — Although several attempts 
 were made to establish " Free Schools" and 
 a " College" in Virginia, b}' the Virginia 
 Company and benevolent individuals, at an 
 earlier day, the first general legislation re- 
 specting the education of children by the 
 Colonial Assembly was in 1631, when it was 
 enacted: "It is also thought fit, that upon 
 everv Sunday the myidster* shall, halfc an 
 hour or more before evening praver, examine, 
 catechise, and instruct the youths and igno- 
 rant persons of his parish in the ten com- 
 
 * In this and some other quotations we liavu 
 followed the ortliography of the original. 
 
 mandments, the articles of the beliefe, and in 
 the Lord's prayer ; and' shall diligentlie heere, 
 instruct, and teach the catechisme, sett forth 
 in the book of Common Prayer. And all 
 fathers, mothers, maysters, and mistrisses, 
 shall cause their children, servants, or ap- 
 prentices, which have not learned their cate- 
 chisme, to come to church at the time ap- 
 povnted, obedientlie to heare, and to be 
 ordered by the mynister untill they have 
 learned the same. And yf any of sayd 
 fathers, mothers, maysters & mistresses, 
 children, servants, or apprentices, shall neg- 
 lect their duties, as the one sorte in not 
 causinge them to come, and the other in 
 refusinge to learne as aforesayd, they shall 
 be censured by the corts in these places 
 holden." To secure the execution of this 
 last clause, it is provided in the oath of the 
 warden, taken before " the justices for the 
 luonthlie c<irts" — "they shall present such 
 mastyrs and mistresses as shall be delinquent 
 in the catechisinge the youth and ignorant 
 persons. So help you God." 
 
 In 1660 an attempt was made to found a 
 college for the supply of educated clergy lucn. 
 " Whereas the want of able and faithful 
 ministers in this country deprives us of those 
 great blessings and mercies that always at- 
 tend upon the service of God ; which want, 
 by reason of the great distance from our 
 native country, cannot in all probability be 
 always supplied from thence : Be it enacted, 
 that fur the advance of learning, education 
 of youth, supply of the ministiy, and pro- 
 motion of piety, there be land taken for a 
 college and free school with as much speed as 
 may be conveiuent, houses erected thereon 
 for entertainment of students and scholars." 
 In the same year it was ordered that a peti- 
 tion be drawn up b}' the General Assembly 
 to tlie king for a college and free school ; and 
 that there be his letters patent " to collect 
 the charity of well disposed persons in Eng- 
 land, fur the erecting of colledges it schools 
 in this countryc," and also to bestow univer- 
 sities "to furnish the church here with min- 
 isters for the present." And this petition was 
 recommended to the right honorable Gov- 
 ernor, Sir William Berkeley. Sir William 
 does not appear, in his reply to tlie Lords 
 Commissioners of Foreign Plantations, dated 
 1670, to have been very kindly disposed to 
 public schools of high or low degree. 
 
 "Question 23. What course is taken 
 about the instructing the people within 
 your govermueut in the Christian religion ; 
 
342 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 and what provision is there made for the pay- 
 ment of your ministry ?" 
 
 " Answer. The same course that is taken 
 in England out of towns; every man accord- 
 ing to his ability instructing his children. 
 We have fort3'-eight parishes, and our min- 
 isters are well paid, and by my consent should 
 be better if they would pray oftener and 
 preach less. But of all other commodities, 
 so of this, the worst are sent us, and we had 
 few that we could boast of, since the perse- 
 cution in Cromwell's tyranny drove divers 
 worthy men hither. But 1 thank God there 
 are no free schools, nor printing, and I hope 
 ■we shall not have these hundred years ; for 
 learning has brought disobedience and heresy 
 and sects into the world, and printing has di- 
 vulged them, and libels against the best gov- 
 ernment. God keep us from both !" 
 
 In 1691, "the good design of building a 
 free school and college for the encourage- 
 ment of learning," was recognized, but it was 
 not till 1693 that an act was passed locat- 
 ing the college, for which a royal chai'ter liad 
 been obtained April 8, 1692, witli the title 
 of William and Mary, at Middle I'lantation, 
 afterward Williamsburgh. Toward its en- 
 dowment the royal founders granted £2000 
 in money, land, and a revenue duty on to- 
 bacco ; and the Assembly enacted an ex- 
 port duty on skins and furs. The money 
 grant of £2000 did not meet with much 
 encouragement from the English Attorney 
 General (Seymour) who was instructed to 
 prepare the charter, who remarked to the 
 liev. James Blair, the agent of the colony 
 for this purpose, that the money was wanted 
 for other purposes, and that ho did not see 
 the slightest occasion for a college in Vir- 
 ginia. The agent represented that the in- 
 tention of the colony was to educate and 
 qualify young men to be ministers of the 
 Gospel, and begged Mr. Attorney would 
 consider that the people of Virginia had 
 souls to be saved as well as the people of 
 England. " Souls !" said he ; " damn your 
 souls ! make tobacco." The plan of the 
 building was designed by Sir Christopher 
 Wren. The first commencement was held 
 in 1700, at which, accordinjr to Oldmixon, 
 "there was a great concourse of people; 
 several planters came thither in their coaches, 
 and several sloops from New York, Pennsyl- 
 vania and Maryland ; it being a new thing 
 in America to hear graduates perform their 
 academical exercises. The Indians them- 
 selves had the curiosity to come to Wil- 
 
 liamsburgh on this occasion ; and the whole 
 country rejoiced as if they had some relish 
 of learning." After the English fashion, the 
 college had a representative in the General 
 Assembly. As a quitrent for the land grant- 
 ed by the Crown, the students and professors 
 every year marched to the residence of the 
 royal Governor, and presented, and some- 
 times recited, some Latin verses. On the 
 breaking out of the Revolution the endow- 
 ments of the college were cut off, and its 
 constitution was somewhat changed. 
 
 No general school law was established in 
 Virginia until 1796, although a plan was 
 proposed by Mr. Jefferson in 1779, which 
 recognized three degrees of public instruc- 
 tion, viz. : 1 . Elementary schools for all chil- 
 dren. 2. Colleges for an extension of in- 
 struction suitable for the common purposes 
 of life. 3. A university, an extension of the 
 means of higher culture on the basis of the 
 college at Williamsburgh. 
 
 Scattered through the colony were schools 
 in connection with churches, both Episcopal 
 and Presbyterian, and in many families 
 private teachers were employed, and in some 
 cases sons were sent out to England to com- 
 plete their education. 
 
 Massachusetts. — In 1636, six years.after 
 the first settlement of Boston, the General 
 Court of the colony of Massachusetts Bay, 
 which met in Boston on the 8th of Septem- 
 ber, passed an act appropriating £400 to- 
 ward the establishment of a college. The 
 sum thus appropriated was more than the 
 whole tax levied on the colony at that time 
 in a single year, and tlie population scattered 
 through ten or twelve villages did not ex- 
 ceed five thousand persons ; but among them 
 were eminent graduates of the university of 
 Cambridge, in England, and all were here 
 for purposes of permanent settlemqnt. In 
 1638, John Harvard left by will the sum of 
 £779 in money, and a library of over three 
 hundred books. In 1640 the General Court 
 granted to the college the income of the 
 Charlestown ferry; and in 1642 the Gov- 
 ernor, with the magistrates and teachers and 
 elders, were empowered to establish statutes 
 and constitutions for the infant institution, 
 and in 1650 granted a charter which still 
 remains the fundamental law of the oldest 
 literary institution in this countr}'. 
 
 In 1642 the attention of the General 
 Court was turned to the subject of family 
 instruction in the following enactment: — ■ 
 
EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE COLONIAL PERIOD. 
 
 343 
 
 " Forasmuch as tlie good education of 
 children is of singular behoof and benefit to 
 any commonwealth ; and whereas many 
 parents and masters are too indulgent and 
 negligent of their duty in this kind : 
 
 ''' It is therefore ordered by this Court and 
 the authority thireof, That the selectmen of 
 every town, in the several precincts and 
 quarters where they dwell, shall have a vigi- 
 I lant eye over their brethren and neighbors, 
 1 to see, first, that none of them shall sufi'er so 
 i much barbarism in any of their families, as 
 j not to endeavor to teach, by themselves or 
 others, their children and apprentices so 
 much learning as may enable them perfectly 
 to read the English tongue, and knowledge 
 of the capital laws, upon penalty of twenty 
 shillings for each neglect therein ; also, that 
 all masters of families do, once a week, at 
 least, catechise their children and servants 
 in the grounds and principles of religion, and 
 if any be unable to do so much, that then, 
 at the least, they procure such children or 
 apprentices to learn some short orthodox 
 catechism, without book, that they may be 
 able to answer to the questions that shall be 
 propounded to them out of such catechisms 
 by their parents or masters, or any of the 
 selectmen, where they shall call them to a 
 trial of what they have learned in this kind ; 
 and further, that all parents and masters do 
 breed and bring up their children and ap- 
 prentices in some honest lawful calling, labor 
 or employment, either in husbandry or some 
 other trade profitable for themselves and the 
 commonwealth, if they will not nor cannot 
 train them up in learning to fit them for 
 higher employments; and if any of the select- 
 men, after admonition by them given to such 
 masters of families, shall find them still neg- 
 ligent of their duty in the particulars afore- 
 mentioned, whereby children and servants 
 become rude, stubborn and unruly, the said 
 selectmen, with the help of two magistrates, 
 shall take such children or apprentices from 
 them, and place them with some masters for 
 years, boys till they come to twenty-one, 
 and girls eighteen years of age complete, 
 which will more strictly look unto and force 
 thera to submit unto government, according 
 to the rules of this order, if by fixir means 
 and former instructions they will not be 
 drawn unto it." 
 
 In the same year the following general 
 school law was enacted: — "It being one 
 chief project of that old deluder, Satan, to 
 keep men from the knowledge of the Scrip- 
 
 tures, as in former times, keeping them in 
 an unknown tongue, so in these latter times, 
 by persuading from the use of tongues, so 
 that at least the true sense and meaning of 
 the original might be clouded and corrupted 
 with false glosses of deceivers ; and to the end 
 that learning may not be buried in the grave 
 of our forefathers, in church and common- 
 wealth, the Lord assisting our endeavors : 
 
 "It is therefore ordered by this Court and 
 authority thereof That every township with- 
 in this jurisdiction, after the Lord hath in- 
 creased them to the number of fifty honse^ 
 holders, shall thenforthwith appoint one with- 
 in their town to teach all such children, as 
 shall resort to him, to write and read, whose 
 wages shall ho paid, either by the parents or 
 masters of such children, or by the inhabi- 
 tants in general, by way of supply, as the 
 major part of those who order the pruden- 
 tials of the town shall appoint ; provided, 
 that those who send their children be not 
 oppressed by paying much more than they 
 can have them taught for in other towns. 
 
 "And it is further ordered, That where 
 any town shall increase to the number of 
 one hundred families or householders, they 
 shall set up a grammar school, the masters 
 thereof being able to instruct youths so far 
 as they may be fitted for the university, and 
 if any other town neglect the performance 
 hereof above one year, then every such 
 town shall pay five pounds per annum to 
 the next such school, till they shall perform 
 this order." 
 
 With various modifications as to details, but 
 with the same objects steadily in view, viz., the 
 exclusion of " barbarism" from every family, 
 by preventing its having even one untauglit 
 and idle child or apprentice, the maintenance 
 of an elementary school in every neighbor- 
 hood where there were children enough to 
 constitute a school, and of a Latin school in 
 every large town, and of a college for higher 
 culture for the whole colony, the colonial 
 legislature, and the people in the several 
 towns of Massachusetts, maintained an edu- 
 cational system, which, although not as early 
 or as thorough as the school code of Saxony 
 and Wirtcmberg, has expanded with the 
 growth cf the community in population, 
 wealth, and industrial development, and 
 stimulated and shaped the legislation and ef- 
 forts of other states in behalf of universal edu- 
 cation. 
 
 The early records of the colony of Ply- 
 mouth contain no trace of the zeal for 
 
344 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 schools whicli characterized the colonies of 
 Massachusetts Bay, Connecticut, and New- 
 Haven. In 1662 the profits of the codfish- 
 ery were appropriated to the maintenance 
 of grammar schools in such towns as would 
 make arrangements for the same ; and in 
 1669 towns having fifty families were au- 
 thorized to raise by rate on all tlie inhabi- 
 tants the sum of twelve pounds for this 
 class of schools, " for as mnoli as the mainte- 
 nance of good literature doth much tend to 
 the advancement of the weal and flourishing 
 state of societies and republics." After the 
 union of the two colonies under one charter, 
 several towns in the old colony were fined 
 for not complying with the provisions of the 
 law of 1647 respecting children and schools. 
 In addition to the grammar school which 
 each town having one hundred families was 
 obliged by law to maintain, to enable young 
 men to fit for college, in several counties 
 endowed schools were set up ; and in 1763 
 the first of that class of institutions, known 
 and incorporated as academies, was estab- 
 lished in the parish of Byfield in the town 
 of Newbury, on a legacy left by Gov. Wil- 
 liam Dummer. Its objects were the same as 
 those of the town grammar school, but its 
 benefits were not confined to one town, nor 
 was it supported in any degree by taxation. 
 
 Rhode Island. — Tn this colony education 
 was left to individual and parental care, no 
 trace of any legislation on the subject being 
 found in the proceedings of the General 
 Assembly, except to incorporate in 1747 the 
 " Society for the Promotion of Knowledge 
 and Virtue," which was established in New- 
 port in 1730 by the name of the "Company 
 of the Redwood Library ;" and in 1764 to 
 grant the charter to the College of Rhode 
 Island, which was first located in Warren, 
 and in 1770 removed to Providence, and in 
 1804 called, after its most liberal benefactor. 
 Brown University. 
 
 Connecticut. — In 1646, Mr. Roger Lud- 
 low was requested to compile " a body of 
 laws for the governmeut u{ this common- 
 wealth," which was not completed till May, 
 1650, and is known as the code of 1650. 
 The jM'ovisions for the family instruction 
 of children and the maintenance of schools 
 are identically the same as in Massachu- 
 setts, and remained on the statute-book, 
 ■with but slight modifications to give them 
 more efficiency, for one hundred and fifty 
 
 years. In the chapter on " capital" of- 
 fences, it is enacted that if any child above 
 sixteen years of age, and of sufficient under- 
 standing, shall curse or smite his father or 
 mother, he shall be put to death, " unless it 
 can be sufficiently testified that the parents 
 have been unchristianly negligent in the ed- 
 ucation of such children." In the chapter 
 respecting schools, the proposition made by 
 the "Commissioners of the United Colonies," 
 that it be commended to every famil}' which 
 " is able and willing to give yearly but the 
 fourth part of a bushel of corn, or something 
 equivalent thereto," " for the advancement 
 of learning," was approved, and two men 
 were appointed in every town to receive and 
 forward the contributions. This was done 
 in the larger towns of the colonies of Con- 
 necticut and New Haven, from time to time, 
 until ten of the principial ministers, in 1700, 
 at Branford, brought each a number of books, 
 and as they laid them on the table, declared — 
 "■I give these hooks for foxmdinri a Coller/e in 
 Connecticut;" and on that foundation rose 
 Yale College. To fit young men for tlic 
 college at C'ambridge, and subsequently for 
 Yaie, in 1672 it was ordered by the Gen- 
 eral Court, " that in every county there shall 
 be set up a grammar school for tlie use of 
 the county, the master thereof being able to 
 instruct youths so far as they may be fitted 
 for college ;" and to aid the county towns in 
 maintaining their schools, six hundred acres 
 of land were appropriated by the General 
 Court to each, " to be imjjroved in the best 
 manner that may be for the benefit of a 
 grammar school in said towns, and to no 
 other use or end whatsoever;" and in 1677 
 a fine of ten pounds annually is imposed on 
 any county town neglecting to keep the 
 Latin school. In 1690, the county Latin 
 schools of Hartford and New Haven are de- 
 nominated '' Free Schools," probably in ref- 
 erence to the partial endowment of schools 
 of this class by the trustees of the legacy 
 of Governor Hopkins. 
 
 As early as 1700, the system of public 
 instruction in Connecticut embraced the fol- 
 lowing particulars : 
 
 1. An obligation on every parent and 
 guardian of children, " not to suft'er so much 
 barbarism in any of their families as to have 
 a single child or apprentice unable to read 
 the holy word of God, and the good laws of 
 the colony;" and also, "to bring them up to 
 some lawful calling or employment," under 
 a penalty for each otfencei 
 
EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE COLONIAL PERIOD. 
 
 345 
 
 2. A tax of forty sliillino-s on every thou- 
 sand pounds of tlie lists of estates, was col- 
 lected in every town with the annual state 
 tax, and payable proportionably to those 
 towns only which should keep their schools 
 according to law. 
 
 3. A common school in every town hav- 
 ing over seventy families, kept for at least 
 six months in the year. 
 
 4. A grammar school in each of the four 
 head county towns to fit youth for college, 
 two of which grammar schools were free or 
 endowed. 
 
 5. A collegiate school, toward which the 
 General Court made an annual appropriation 
 of £120. 
 
 (). Provision for the religious instruction 
 of the Indians. 
 
 The s}'stem, therefore, embraced every 
 family and town, all classes of children and 
 youth, and all the then recognized grades of 
 schools. There were no select or sectarian 
 schools to classify society at the roots, but 
 all children were regarded with equal favor, 
 and all brought under the assimilating influ- 
 ence of early associations and similar school 
 privileges. Here was the foundation laid, 
 not only for universal education, but for a 
 practical, political, and social equality, which 
 has never been surpassed in the history of 
 any other community. 
 
 New Hampshire. — From 1023 to 1G41, 
 the early records of the first settlements 
 ■within the present limits of New Hampshire 
 exhibit no trace of educational enactments ; 
 from 1641 to 1680, the school laws of Mas- 
 sachusetts prevailed, and the presence of 
 such men as Philemon Purmont and Daniel 
 Maude, who were the first schoolmasters of 
 that colony, must have contributed to inauiiu- 
 rate the policy of local and endowed schools. 
 AVhen the necessities of the eoUecje at Cam- 
 bridge were made known, the people of 
 Portsmouth, in town meeting;, made a col- 
 lection of sixty pounds, with a pledge to con- 
 tinue the same amount for seven vears, " for 
 the perpetuating of knowledge both religious 
 and civil among us and our posterity after 
 us." In the original grants for towns one 
 lot was reserved for the support of schools. 
 
 In 1680 New Hampshire became a sepa- 
 rate colony, and in 1693 the Colonial As- 
 sembly enacted " that for the building and 
 repairing of meeting houses, ministers' 
 houses, and allowing a salary to a school- 
 master in each town within this province, 
 
 the selectmen shall raise by an equal rate 
 an assessment upon the inhabitants ;" and 
 in I7l9 it was ordained that every town 
 having fifty householders should be con- 
 stantly provided with a schoolmaster to 
 teach children to read and ^Yrite ; and those 
 having one hundred should maintain a gram- 
 mar school, to be kept by some decent 
 person, of good conversation, well instructed 
 in the tongues. In 1721 it was ordered that 
 not only each town but each parish of one 
 hundred families should be constantly pro- 
 videil with a grammar school, or forfeit the 
 sum of twenty pounds to the treasury of the 
 province. This system of elementary and 
 secondary instruction continued substantially 
 until the adoption of the state constitution 
 in 1792. 
 
 In 1770 Dr. Wheelock removed a school 
 which he had established in Lebanon, Con- 
 necticut, under the name of " Moor's Indian 
 Charity School," to the depths of the forests 
 in the western part of New Hampshire. 
 Here, side by side with the school for 
 Indians, he organized another institution, 
 termed a college in the charter granted by 
 Governor Wentworth in 1769, and which 
 held its first commencement in 1771, with 
 four graduates, one of whom was John 
 Wheelock, the second president of the in- 
 stitution, which was called Dartmouth Col- 
 lege after Lord Dartmouth, one of the larg- 
 est benefactors of the Charity School. 
 
 At the close of the colonial period of our 
 history, according to Noah Webster, the 
 condition of the educational system in Con- 
 necticut and New England was as follows: 
 
 "The law of Connecticut ordains that 
 every town or parish containing seventy 
 householders, shall keep an English school, 
 at least eleven months in the year; and 
 towns containing a less number, at least six 
 months in the year. Every town keeping 
 a public school is entitled to draw from the 
 treasury of the state a certain sum of money, 
 proportioned to its census in the list of prop- 
 erty which furnishes the rule of taxation. 
 This sum might have been originally suf- 
 ficient to support one school in each town 
 or parish, but in modern times is divided 
 among a number, and the deficiency of 
 money to support the schools is raised upon 
 the estates of the people, in the manner the 
 public taxes are assessed. To extend the 
 benefits of this establishment to all the in- 
 habitants, large towns and parishes are di- 
 
346 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 vided into districts, each of wliich is sup- 
 posed able to furnish a competent number 
 of scholars for one school. In each district 
 a house is erected fur the purpose by the 
 inliabitants of that district, who hire a mas- 
 ter, furnish wood, and tax themselves to pay 
 all expenses not provided for by the public 
 money. The school is kept during the win- 
 ter months, when every fanner can spare liis 
 sons. In this manner, every child in the 
 state has access to a school. In the sum- 
 mer, a woman is hired to teach small chil- 
 dren, who are not fit for any kind of labor. 
 lu the large towns, schools, either public or 
 private, are kept the whole year; and in 
 every county town, a grammar school is 
 established bv law. 
 
 " The beneficial etfects of these institutions 
 will be experienced for ages. Next to the 
 establishments in favor of religion, they have 
 been the nurseries of well-informed citizens, 
 brave soldiers and wise legislators. A peo- 
 ple thus informed are capable of understand- 
 ing their rights and of discovering the means 
 to secure them. In the next place, our fore- 
 fathers took measures to preserve the repu- 
 tation of schools and the morals of youth, 
 by making the teaching them an honor- 
 able employment. Every town or district 
 has a committee, whose duty is to procure a 
 master of talents and character ; and the 
 practice is to procure a man of the best 
 character in the town or neighborhood. The 
 wealthy towns apply to young men of lib- 
 eral education, who, after taking the bache- 
 lor's degree, usually keep school a year or 
 two before they enter upon a profession. 
 One of the most unfortunate circumstances 
 to education in the Middle and Southern 
 -, states, is an opinion that school-keeping is 
 a mean employment, fit only for persons of 
 low character. The wretches who keep the 
 schools in those states very frequently de- 
 grade the employment; but the misfortune 
 is, public opinion supposes the employment 
 degrades the man : of course no gentleman 
 will undertake to teach children while in 
 popular estimation he must forfeit his rank 
 and character by the employment. Until 
 public opinion is corrected by some great 
 examples, the common schools, what few 
 there are in those states, must continue in 
 the hands of such vagabonds as wander 
 about the country." 
 
 "Nearly connected with the establishment 
 of schools is the circulation of newspapers 
 in New England. This is both a conse- 
 
 quence and a cause of a general diffusion of 
 letters. In Connecticut, almost every man 
 reads a paper every week. In the year 
 1785, I took some pains to ascertain the 
 number of papers printed weekly in Con- 
 necticut and in the .Southern states. I found 
 the number in Connecticut to be nearly eight 
 thousand ; which was equal to that published 
 in the whole territory south of Pennsylvania. 
 By means, of this general circulation of pub- 
 lic papers, the people are informed of all 
 political affairs ; and their representatives 
 are often prepared to deliberate on proposi- 
 tions made to the legislature. 
 
 "Another institution favorable to knowl- 
 edge is the establishment of parish libraries. 
 These arc procured by subscription, but they 
 are numerous, the expense not being con- 
 siderable, and the desire of reading universal. 
 One hundred volumes of books, selected 
 from the best writers, on ethics, divinity, 
 and histor\', and read bj' the principal in- 
 habitants of a town or village, will have an 
 amazing influence in spreading knowledge, 
 correcting the morals, and softening the 
 manners of a nation. I am acquainted with 
 parishes where almost every householder has 
 read the works of Addison, Sherlock, Atter- 
 bury. Watts, Young, and other similar 
 writings ; and will converse well on the 
 subjects of which they treat." 
 
 New York. — In the early history of the 
 settlements of the New Netherlands, the 
 school was regarded as an appendage of the 
 church, and the sclioolmaster was paid in 
 part out of the funds of the government. 
 Down to its organization as a royal province 
 of England, a parochial school existed in 
 every parish. In 1658 a petition of the 
 burgomasters and schepens of New Amster- 
 dam was forwarded to the West India Com- 
 panj', in which " it is represented that the 
 }-outh of this place and the neighliorhood 
 are increasing in number gradually, and 
 that most of them can read and write, but 
 that some of the citizens and inhabitants 
 would like to send their children to a school 
 the principal of which underst.ands Latin, 
 but are not able to do so without sending 
 them to New England ; furthermore, they 
 have not the means to hire a Latin school- 
 master, expressly for themselves, from New 
 England, and therefore they ask that the 
 West India Company will send out a fit 
 person as Latin schoolmaster, not doubting 
 that the number of persons who will send 
 
EDUCATIOKAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE COLONIAL PERIOD. 
 
 347 
 
 their cliildrcn to suda teacher will from year 
 to year increase, until an academy shall be 
 formed whereby this place to great splendor 
 will have attained, for which, next to God, 
 the honorable company which shall have 
 sent such teacher here shall have laud and 
 praise." In compliance with this petition, 
 Dr. Alexander Carolus Curtius, a Latin 
 master of Lithuania, was sent out by the 
 company. The burgomasters proposed to 
 give him five hundred guilders annually out 
 of the city treasury, with the use of a house 
 and garden, and the privilege of collecting 
 a tuition of six guilders per quarter of each 
 scholar. Dr. Curtius proved not to be a 
 good disciplinarian, and parents complained 
 to the authorities that " his pupils beat 
 each other, and tore the clothes from each 
 other's backs." The doctor retorted that 
 he could not interfere, " as liis hands were 
 tied, as some of the parents forbade him 
 punishing their children." lie accordingly 
 gave up his place and returned to Holland, 
 and was succeeded in the mastership by 
 Rev. ^Egidius Luyck in 1062. His school 
 had a high reputation, and was resorted to 
 by pupils from Virginia, Fort Orange, and 
 the Delaware. 
 
 After the establishment of the English 
 authority, the governor claimed the privilege 
 of licensing teachers even for the church 
 schools, but no general school policy was 
 established. In 17o2 a free grammar school 
 was founded and built on the King's Farm, 
 and in 1T32 a "Free School," f.ir teaching 
 the Latin and Greek and practical branches 
 of mathematics, was incorporated by law. 
 The preamble of the act of incorporation 
 opens as follows : " Whereas the youth of 
 this colony are found by manifold experience 
 to be not inferior in their natural genius to 
 the youth of any other country in the 
 ■world, therefore be it enacted," etc. In 
 17 10, the Society for the Propagation of the 
 Gospel in Foreign Parts established a 
 charity school in connection with the Epis- 
 copal churcli, which is still in existence, and 
 is now known as the Trinity School. In 
 1750, Charles Dutens announced to the 
 public " that he tautrht a school for the use 
 of young ladies and gentlemen, whose love 
 of learning might incline them to take 
 lessons from him in French, at his house on 
 Broad street, near the Long Bridge, where 
 he also makes and vends finger and car rings, 
 solitaii-es, stay-hooks and lockets, and sets 
 diamonds, rubies, and other stones. Science 
 
 and virtue are two sisters, which the most 
 part of the New York ladies possess," etc. 
 
 Judge Smith, in his " History of the Prov- 
 ince of New York," when speaking of the 
 action of the legislature for founding a col- 
 lege in 1746, says : " To the disgrace of our 
 first planters, who beyond comparison sur- 
 passed their eastern neighbors in opulence, 
 Mr. Dolanc}', a graduate of the University 
 of Cambridge (England), and Mr. Smith, 
 were for many years the only academics in 
 this province, except such as were in holy 
 orders; and so late as the period we are now 
 examining (1750), the author did not recol- 
 lect above thirteen men, the youngest of 
 whom had his bachelor's degree at the age 
 of seventeen, but two months before the pass- 
 ing of the above law, the first toward erecting 
 a college in this colony, though at a distance 
 of above one hundred and twenty years after 
 its discovery and settlement of the capital by 
 Dutch progenitors from Amsterdam." 
 
 In 1754 a royal charter was obtained for 
 a college in New York, with the style of 
 King's College, which came into possession 
 of a fund raised by a lottery authorized for 
 this purpose by the Assembly in 1746, and 
 of a grant of land conveyed to its governors 
 by Trinity Church in l755. Out of this 
 grant, Columbia College is now (1860) re- 
 alizing an income of ^60,000 a year. The 
 first commencement was celebrated in 1758. 
 
 " For the advantage of our new intended 
 college" (King's), " and the use and orna- 
 ment of the city," a number of eminent citi- 
 zens of New York, in 1754, united in an 
 association to form a libnary, which in 1772 
 was incorporated with the title of the "New 
 York Society Library." 
 
 Maryland. — The first settlement was 
 eS"ected within the present limits of Mary- 
 land in 1634; and in the years immediately 
 following, we find no record of any marked 
 individual or legislative eflfort to establish 
 institutions of learning. The first act of the 
 colonial Assembly is entitled a "Supplicatory 
 Act to their sacred majesties for erecting of 
 schools," which was passed in 1694, and re- 
 pealed or superseded by an act entitled a 
 " I'etitionarj- Act'' for the same purpose. 
 Appealing to the royal liberality, which had 
 been extended to the neighboring colony of 
 Virginia in the institution of the college, " a 
 place of universal study," the Assembly ask, 
 " that for the propagation of the Gospel, and 
 the education of the youth of this province 
 
348 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 in good letters and manners, that a certain 
 place or places for a free school or schools, or 
 place of study of Latin, Greek, writing and 
 the like, consisting of one master, one usher, 
 and one writing-master or scribe to a school, 
 and 100 scholars," be established in Arundel 
 Count}', of which the Archbishop of Canter- 
 bury should be chancellor, and to be called 
 " King William's School;" and a similar free 
 school is asked for in each county, to be 
 established from time to time as the re- 
 sources of the several counties may suffice. 
 To increase the educational resources of the 
 counties, in 1 7 1 7 it was enacted that an ad- 
 ditional duty of twenty shillings current money 
 per poll should be levied on all Irish servants, 
 being papists, to prevent the growth of popery 
 by the importation of too great a number of 
 them into this province, and also an addi- 
 tional duty of twenty shillings current 
 money per poll on all negroes, for raising 
 a fund for the use of public schools. In 
 1723, "an act for the encouragement of 
 learning, and erecting schools in the several 
 counties," was passed, with a preamble set- 
 ting forth that preceding Assemblies have 
 had it much at heart, "to provide for the 
 liberal and pious education of the youth 
 of the province, and improving their natural 
 abilities and acutencss (which seem not to 
 be inferior to any), so as to be fitted for the 
 discharge of their duties in the several sta- 
 tions and employments in it, either in re- 
 gard to church or state." By this act seven 
 visitors are appointed in each county, with 
 corporate powers to receive and hold estate 
 to the value of £100 per annum; and they 
 are authorized witTi all convenient speed to 
 purchase, out of funds realized from revenues 
 already set apart for this purpose, one hun- 
 dred acres more or less, one moiety of which 
 is to serve for making corn, grain, and pas- 
 turage for the benefit and use of the master, 
 who is prohibited growing tobacco, or ]ier- 
 mitting it by others on said farm. The 
 visitors are directed to employ good school- 
 masters, members of the Church of England, 
 and of pious and exemplary lives and con- 
 versation, and capable of teaching well the 
 grammar, good writing, and the mathemat- 
 ics, if such can be conveniently got, on 
 a salary of £20 per annum, and the use of 
 the plantation. In 1728 the master of each 
 public school is directed "to teach as many 
 poor children gratis as the majority of the 
 visitors should order." 
 
 Up to the establishment of the state gov- 
 
 ernment in 1777, there was no system of 
 common schools for elementary instruction 
 in operation in Maryland. " A free school," 
 like the free endowed grammar school of 
 England, was established in a majority of 
 counties, two of which were subsequently 
 converted into colleges, that of Charlestown 
 in Kent county, into Washington College in 
 1782, and the second at Annapolis into St. 
 John's College in 1784 — the former "in 
 honorable and perpetual memory of his 
 excellency General Washington, the illus- 
 trious and virtuous commander-in-chief of 
 the armies of the United States." 
 
 In 1696, Rev. Thomas Bray, then residing 
 in the parisli of Sheldon, England, was made 
 commissary of Maryland, to establish the 
 Church of England in the colony. His first 
 act was to inaugurate a plan of parochial 
 libraries for the use of ministers in each 
 parish. Through his influence, Princess 
 Anne made a benetjiction for this purpose, 
 and in acknowledgment of the honor of 
 having the capital of the province called 
 after her name (Annapolis), donated books 
 to the value of four hundred pounds to the 
 parish library, which he called "the An- 
 napolitan Library." By his influence in 
 England a plan of "lending-libraries" was 
 projected in every deanery throughout the 
 kingdom, and carried out. 
 
 New Jersey. — In the history of New 
 Jersey as a colony we find no trace of any 
 general legislation or governmental action in 
 behalf of schools. Scattered at wide in- 
 tervals over the state were schools kept 
 by clergymen in connection with their 
 churches. 
 
 In 1748 a charter of incorporation for the 
 College of New Jersey was obtained from 
 George II., during the administration of 
 Governor Belcher, " for the instruction of 
 youth in the learned languages and liberal 
 arts and sciences." During the adminis- 
 tration of Governor Franklin in 1770, a 
 second college was chartered, with the name 
 of Queen's (now Kutger's) College, as a 
 school of theology for the Reformed Dutch 
 Church. Neither of the institutions receiv- 
 ed any aid from the government. 
 
 Pennsylvania. — The frame of govern- 
 ment of the province of Pennsylvania, dated 
 April 25th, 1682, drawn up by William 
 Penn before leaving England, contains the 
 following provision : " The governor and 
 
EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE COLONIAL PERIOD. 
 
 349 
 
 Iproviiicial council shall erect and order all 
 , public schools and reward the authors of 
 useful sciences and laudable inventions in 
 said province." In the laws agreed upon 
 a few months later in the same year by the 
 '(jovernor and divers freemen of the province 
 J in England, it is provided "that all children 
 •within this prosdnce of the age of twelve 
 years shall be taught some useful trade, or 
 skill, to the end that none be idle, but that 
 the poor may work to live, and the rich, if 
 they become poor, may not want." In 1683 
 the governor and council in Philadelphia, 
 " having taken into their serious considera- 
 tion the great necessity there is of a school- 
 master in the town of Philadelphia, sent for 
 Enoch Flower, an inhabitant of said town, 
 who for twenty years past hath been exer- 
 cised in that care and employment in Eng- 
 land, to whom having communicated their 
 minds, he embraced it upon the following 
 terms : to learn to read English, 4s. by the 
 quarter ;" to learn to read and write, 6s. ; 
 read, write and cast accounts, 8s. ; for board- 
 ing a scholar, £lO per year. In 1689 the 
 Society of Friends established a Latin school 
 of which George Keith was the first teacher. 
 In 1725 Rev. Francis Alison, a native of 
 Ireland, but educated at Glasgow, became 
 pastor of the Presbyterian church in New 
 London, in Chester county, and opened a 
 school there, which had great reputation. 
 He at one time resided at Thunder Hill, in 
 Maryland, where he educated many young 
 men who were afterward distinguished in 
 the Revolutionary struggle. He was subse- 
 quently Provost of the college at Philadel- 
 phia. 
 
 In 1749 Benjamin Franklin published his 
 " Proposals relating to the Education of 
 Youth in Pennsylvania" out of which ori- 
 gioutcd subsequently an academy and char- 
 ity school, and ultimately the University of 
 Pennsylvania. At the head of the English 
 department of the academy in 1751 was Mr. 
 Dove, who was then engaged in giving pub- 
 lic lectures in experimental philosophy with 
 apparatus — an early lyceum or popular lec- 
 turer. 
 
 In 1743 the American Philosophical So- 
 ciety originated in a " Proposal for Promot- 
 ing Useful Knowledge," published by Ben- 
 jamin Franklin, which, after various forms 
 of organization, took its present name and 
 shape on the 2d of January, 1769. 
 
 In 1765 the Medical School originated 
 with the appointment of Dr. Morgan to the 
 21 * 
 
 professorship of the theory and practice of 
 physic; in 1767 it was fully organized, and 
 in 1768 degrees in medicine were for the 
 first time conferred. 
 
 Among the denominational schools which 
 grew up in the absence of any general 
 legislation on the subject, was a Moravian 
 school for boys at Nazareth in 1747, and for 
 girls at Bethlehem 1749, both of which are 
 still in existence, and the latter, especially, 
 since 1789, has been one of the most flour- 
 ishing female seminaries in this country. 
 
 Delaware. — In the early settlements of 
 the Swedes and Dutch in Delaware, the 
 policy of connecting a school with the 
 church was probably imperfectly carried 
 out, but there is no historical trace of its 
 existence. The only school legislation of 
 the colony extant, is an act incorporating 
 " the Trustees of the Grammar School in the 
 borough of Wilmington, and county of New 
 Castle/' dated April 10, 1773. 
 
 North Carolina. — In North Carolina for 
 fifty years, the policy of the provincial au- 
 thorities was to discourage all forms of re- 
 ligious and educational activity outside of 
 the Church of England, to the extent of for- 
 bidding expressly the establishment of print- 
 ing presses. The first act on record relat- 
 ing to schools, in 1764, was "for the build- 
 ing of a house for a school, and the residence 
 of a schoolmaster in the town of Newbern" 
 — appropriating the lialf of two lots, before 
 set ajiart for a church, for this purpose. In 
 1766 another act was passed incorporating 
 trustees for this school, with the preamble 
 " that a number of well-disposed persons, 
 taking into consideration the great necessity 
 of having a proper school, or public seminary 
 of learning established, whereby the present 
 generation may be brought up and instructed 
 in the principles of the Christian religion, 
 and fitted for the several oiBces and purposes 
 of life, have at great expense erected a 
 school-house for this purpose ;" and provid- 
 ing that the master of the school shall be 
 "of the established Church of England, and 
 licensed br the governor." Similar acts were 
 passed inl770and 17 79 for schools at Edenton 
 and Hillsborough. In 1770 an act, reciting 
 that a very promising experiment had been 
 made in the town of Charlotte in the county 
 of Mecklenburg, with a seminary of learning 
 "a number of youths there taught making 
 great advancement in the knowledge of the 
 
350 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 learned languages, and in the rudiments of 
 the arts and sciences, having gone to various 
 colleges in distant parts of America," incor- 
 porates the same with the name of Queen's 
 College. This act was repealed by procla- 
 mation in the next year, but in 1777 it was 
 reincorporated by name of "Liberty Hall." 
 AVith the downfall of the royal auth(3rity, 
 and the religious party which had swayed 
 the colony, a new educational policy was 
 inaugurated. 
 
 South Carolina. — In the early history 
 of the colony of South Carolina, as of several 
 other colonies, the first efforts to establish 
 schools were in connection with the predom- 
 inant church of the settlers, i. e., of the 
 Church of England, through the aid of the 
 " Venerable Society for Propagating the 
 Gospel in Foreign Parts." By the mission- 
 aries of that society charity schools were 
 established in several parishes, some of which 
 were afterward endowed by individuals, and 
 incorporated by act of the legislature, and 
 called "Free Schools." In 1710 a free 
 school of this character was established at 
 Goosecreek, and in 17 12 in Charleston; and 
 by the general act of February 22, 1722, the 
 justices of the county courts were author- 
 ized to erect a free school in each county 
 and precinct, to be supported by assessment 
 on land and negroes. These .schools were 
 bound to teach ten poor children each, if 
 sent by said justices. In 1724, a memorial 
 to the " Venerable Society" from the parish 
 of Dorchester sets forth — " The chief source 
 of irreligion here is the want of schools ; 
 and we may justly be apprehensive, that if 
 our children continue longer to be deprived 
 of opportunities of being instructed, Chris- 
 tianity will of course decay insensibly, and 
 we shall have a generation of our own as 
 ignorant as the native Indians." The so- 
 ciety sent out schoolmasters to this and 
 other p.-irishes, and about 2000 volumes of 
 bound books. In 1721 Mr. Richard Beres- 
 ford becjueathed to the parish of vSt. Thomas 
 and St. Dennis, in trust, for the purpose of 
 educating the poor, £6500; and in 1732 
 Mr. Richard Harris, for the same object, 
 £1000. In 1728 Rev. Richard Ludlam be- 
 queathed his whole estate to the parish of 
 St. James, which in 1778 amounted to 
 £15,272. Other bequests for the same 
 objects were made at different times before 
 the Revolution. In 174.3 Rev. Alexander 
 Garden wrote to the society that the negro 
 
 school consisted of thirty children, and in 
 1750 that it was going on with all desirable 
 success. In 1748 a library was founded in 
 Charleston by an association of seventeen 
 young men, whose first object was to collect 
 new pamphlets and magazines published in 
 Great Britain, but in the course of a year 
 embraced the purchase of books. After 
 many delay's and refusals, an act of incor- 
 poration was obtained in 1754. There is 
 but one older library in this country. 
 
 Georgia. — The earliest effort to establish 
 schools in Georgia was made by the Rev. 
 George Whitefield. Before leaving England 
 in 1737, he had projected an Orphan House, 
 after the plan of that of Dr. Franke, at Halle, 
 of which an account about that time ap- 
 peared in English. His first visit to Savan- 
 nah in 1738 satisfied him of the necessity 
 of a charity school for poor and neglected 
 children, and in the course of that year he 
 returned to England to obtain his ordination 
 as priest and collect funds for his educational 
 enterprise. The trustees of the colony gave 
 him five hundred acres of land upon which 
 to erect his buildings. These were selected 
 about ten miles out of Savannah, and on the 
 25th of March, 1740, he laid the first brick 
 of the house, which he called Bethesda, or 
 House of Mercy, and opened his school in 
 temporary shelters with forty children. In 
 the fall of the same year he made a collec- 
 tion and preaching tour in New England, 
 during which he collected over £800 for his 
 charity. After disasters by fire, etc., the 
 Orphan House property was bequeathed to 
 Selina, Countess of Huntingdon, in trust for 
 the purposes originally designed, and subse- 
 quently incorporated for this purpose. On 
 her death, and after the Revolution, the legis- 
 lature transferred the property to thirteen 
 trustees, to manage the estate and make reg- 
 ulations for an academy in the county of 
 Chatham. Schools were estalilished by the 
 missionaries sent out by the Society for the 
 Propagation of the Gospel at Savannah, Au- 
 gusta, and Frederica, and by the Moravians 
 and Huguenots in their respective settle- 
 ments. 
 
 RESULTS AT THE CLOSE OF OUR COLONIAL 
 HISTORY. 
 
 The educational sy.sfems and provisions 
 of the colonial period of the United States 
 were, especially in its earlier portion, closely 
 connected with the ecclesiastical systems of 
 
REVOLUTIONART AND TRANSITIOKAL PERIOD. 
 
 351 
 
 the colonies. Schools were maintained by 
 indiviJual youth trained up in very many 
 cases, because it was a duty to prepare use- 
 ful future members of the church, which in 
 some of the colonies was also the state. 
 
 In throe states, Massachusetts, Connecti- 
 cut, and New Hampshire, it was very early 
 made the legal duty of parents and towns 
 to make provision for the education of youth. 
 Elsewhere, such efforts as were made, aside 
 from the natural desire of parents to afford 
 their children such an education as was suit- 
 able to their rank in life, or such as would 
 aiil their subsequent progress and prosperit}', 
 were, generally speaking, ])ut forth by clergy- 
 men, ecclesiastical bodies, or pious laymen, 
 for colonial institutions for secondary edu- 
 cation were not very numerous, including 
 the town grammar schools of New England, 
 and a small number of endowed or free 
 schools. In these two classes of institutions, 
 a small number of pupils were prepared to 
 eiiter college. A far greater number of col- 
 lege students, more especially in the middle 
 and southern states, were prepared by clergy- 
 men, who received each a small number of 
 pupils into his family, as a means of secur- 
 ing some additional income. There were 
 al.-o a few private schools of considerable 
 reputation and value. 
 
 In connection with these educational agen- 
 cies, the small parochial and social libraries, 
 and the two or three associations for the 
 increase and dissemination of science, should 
 also be referred to. 
 
 The institutions of superior education, 
 established during the colonial period, were 
 seven in number; namely, Harvard, Wil- 
 liam and Mary, Yale, Nassau Hall, Rutgers, 
 Brown, and Columbia. From these came 
 forth nearly all the liberally educated men 
 of that day, though it was a custom of a few 
 of the wealthiest families of the day to grad 
 uate their sons at a European university, 
 Oxford or Cambridge being commonly se- 
 lected. The colonial colleges, like the 
 schools preparatory to them, were substan- 
 tially church institutions, their pupils being 
 the stock from which the clerical body was 
 reinforced. 
 
 It was not until the very close of the co- 
 lonial period that a few special or profes- 
 sional schools were established. A school 
 of medicine, sufficiently entitled to the name, 
 gave degrees in New York in 1769; a sort 
 of theological seminary was founded in Penn- 
 sylvania in 1778; while the first law school 
 
 only arose the year after the peace of 1783. 
 Professorships, however, in these depart- 
 ments, had atlbrdcd a certain amount of in- 
 struction in all of them as part of the college 
 course, long before ; indeed, from the foun- 
 dation of the earliest colleges. 
 
 Female education was comparatively neg- 
 lected in the colonial period. Girls were 
 taught housewifely duties far more assidu- 
 ously than learning, and often depended 
 upon home instruction for whatever educa- 
 tion they received ; neither the common 
 schools nor those for secondary education 
 affording or being "designed to afford accom- 
 modation for them. 
 
 That special supplementary training which 
 at the present day does so much to alleviate 
 the misfortunes of the blind, the deaf and 
 dumb, and the feeble minded, was quite un- 
 known, nor was the idea entertained that 
 such a training was practicable. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND TRANSITIONAL 
 PERIOD. 
 
 The immediate effects of the war of the 
 Revolution were adverse, and, in certain as- 
 pects, disastrous to the interests of education. 
 Dangers so great and imminent almost en- 
 grossed all thought and absorbed all exertion 
 and resources. Children, indeed, were not 
 left without the instruction of the family and 
 the local elementary school, and they were, 
 thank God, everywhere surrounded with the 
 most Stirling exhibitions of heroic patriotism 
 and the self-sacrificing virtues. But too gen- 
 erally the elementary school and the teacher, 
 never propei'ly appreciated, gave way to ' 
 more pressing and universally-felt necessities. 
 Higher education for a time experienced a 
 severe shock. The calls of patriotism with- 
 drew many young men from the colleges and 
 the preparatory schools, and prevented many 
 more from resorting thither. The impover- 
 ishment of the country, and the demand for 
 immediate action, compelled others to relin- 
 quish an extended course of professional 
 study. In some cases the presence of armies 
 caused a suspension of college instruction and 
 the dispersion of faculty and students, and 
 even converted the college buildings into 
 barracks. But the action and influence of 
 this period were not wholly adverse or dis- 
 astrous to schools and higher education. The 
 
352 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 public mind was stimulated into greatly in- 
 creased activity — now, for the first time, as- 
 'suming a collective existence and national 
 characteristics. The heart of the people was 
 thoroughly penetrated by the spirit of self- 
 sacrifice, in cheerfully bearing the burdens of 
 society with diminished resources, and in re- 
 pairing the waste and destruction of the war. 
 The examples of wisdom and eloquence in 
 council, and courage and heroism in the 
 field, and of patient endurance of privation 
 and hardship, and towering above all and 
 outshining all, the colossal greatness and 
 transparent parity of the character of Wash- 
 ington — these were lessons for the liead and 
 the heart of a young nation, wdiich amply 
 compensated for the partial and temporary 
 suspension of schools. In the discussion and 
 reconstruction of political society, in framing 
 constitutions and organic legislation, and in 
 the disposition of unsettled territory, the im- 
 portance of the elementary school, the acad- 
 emy, and the college, was recognized and pro- 
 vided for. 
 
 Among the earliest to do justice to this 
 great subject was Noah Webster, who, in a 
 series of essays, first published in a New 
 York paper, and copied extensively by the 
 press in other parts of the country, and after- 
 ward embodied in a volume with other fu- 
 gitive pieces, advocated a lilieral policy by 
 the national and local governments in favor 
 of a broad system of education. " Here every 
 class of people should know and love the 
 laws. This knowledge should be diffused by 
 means of schools and newspapers ; and an at- 
 tachment to the laws may be formed by early 
 impression upon the mind. Two regulations 
 are essential to the continuance of republican 
 governments : 1. Such a distribution of lands 
 and such principles of descent and alienation 
 as shall give every citizen a power of acquir- 
 ing what his industry merits. 2. Such a sys- 
 tem of education as shall give every citizen 
 an opportunity of acquiring knowledge, and 
 fitting himself for places of trust." "Edu- 
 cation should be the first care of a legisla- 
 ture ; not merely the institution of schools, 
 but the furnishing them with the best men 
 for teachers. A good system of schools 
 should be the first article in a code of politi- 
 cal regulations ; for it is much easier to in- 
 troduce and establish an effectual system for 
 preserving morals, than to correct by penal 
 statutes the ill effects of a bad system. I am 
 so fully persuaded of this, that I should al- 
 most adore that great man who shall change 
 
 our practice and opinions, and make it re- 
 spectable for the first and best men to super- 
 intend the education of youth." As speci- 
 mens of the utterances of eminent public 
 men on this subject, we cite the following: 
 
 " Promote, as an object of primary import- 
 ance, institutions for the general diffusion of 
 knowledge. In proportion as the structure 
 of a government gives force to public opin- 
 ion, it is essential that public opinion should 
 be enlightened." George Washington. 
 
 " The wisdom and generosity of the legis- 
 lature in making liberal a])propriations in 
 money for the benefit of schools, academics 
 and colleges, is an equal honor to them and 
 their constituents, a proof of their veneration 
 for letters and science, and a portent of great 
 and lasting good to North and South Amer- 
 ica, and to the world. Great is truth — great 
 is liberty — great is humanity — and they must 
 and will prevail." John Adams. 
 
 " I look to the diffusion of light and edu- 
 cation as the resources most to be relied on 
 for ameliorating the condition, promoting 
 the virtue, and advancing the happiness of 
 man. And I do hope, in the present spirit 
 of extending to the great mass of mankind 
 the blessings of instruction, I see a prospect 
 of great advancement in the happiness of the 
 human race, and this may proceed to an in- 
 definite, although not an infinite, degree. A 
 system of general instruction, which shall 
 reach every description of our citizens, from 
 the richest to the pooi-est, as it was the ear- 
 liest, so shall it be the latest of all the public 
 concerns in which I .shall permit mj'self to 
 take an interest. Give it to us, in any shape, 
 and receive for the inestimable boon the 
 thanks of tlie young, and the blessings of 
 the old, who are past all other ser\ices but 
 prayers for the prosperity of their country, 
 and blessings to those who promote it." 
 Thomas Jefferson. 
 
 " Learned institutions ought to be the fa- 
 vorite objects with every free people ; they 
 throw that light over the public mind \x.hich 
 is the best security against crafty and dan- 
 gerous encroachments on the ])ublic liberty. 
 They multiply the educated individuals, from 
 among whom the people may elect a due 
 portion of their public agents of every de- 
 scription, more especially of those who are 
 to frame the laws : by the perspicuity, the 
 
REVOLUTIONARY AND TRANSITIONAL PERIOD. 
 
 353 
 
 consistency, and the stability, as well as by 
 the justice and equal spirit of whicli, the great 
 social purposes are to be answered." 
 
 James Madison. 
 
 " Moral, political and intellectual improve- 
 ment, are duties assigned by the Author of 
 our existence to social, no less than to indi- 
 vidual man. For the fulfilment of these du- 
 ties, governments are invested with power, 
 and to the attainment of these ends, the ex- 
 ercise of this power is a duty sacred and in- 
 dispensable." John Quincy Ad.\ms. 
 
 " For the purpose of promoting the happi- 
 ress of the State, it is absolutely necessary 
 that our government, which unites into one 
 all the minds of the State, should possess in 
 an eminent degree not only the understand- 
 ing, the passions, and the will, but above all, 
 the moral faculty and the conscience of an 
 individual. Nothing can be politically right 
 that is morally wrong ; and no necessity can 
 ever sanctify a law that is contrary to equity. 
 Virtue is the soul of a Republic. To pro- 
 mote tliis, laws for the suppression of vice 
 and immorality will be as ineffectual as the 
 increase and enlargement of jails. There is 
 but one method of preventing crime and of 
 rendering a republican form of government 
 durable ; and that is, by disseminating the 
 seeds of virtue and Icnowledge through every 
 part of the State, by means of proper modes 
 and places of education ; and this can be 
 done etfectuallv only by the interference and 
 aid of the legislature. I am so deeply im- 
 pressed with this oi)inion, that were this the 
 last evening of my life, I would not only say to 
 tlio asylum of my ancestors and my beloved 
 native country, with the patriot of Venice, 
 ^ Esto perpetual but I would add, as the best 
 proof of my afi'ection for her, my parting ad- 
 vice to the guardians of her liberties, establish 
 and support public schools in every part of 
 the State." Benjamin Rush. 
 
 " There is one object which I earnestly re- 
 commend to your notice and patronage — I 
 mean our institutions for the education of 
 , youth. The importance of common schools 
 is best estimated by the good effects of them 
 where they most abound and are best regu- 
 lated. Our ancestors have transmitted to us 
 many excellent institutions, matured by the 
 wisdom and experience of ages. Let them 
 descend to posterity, accompanied with oth- 
 ers, which, by promoting useful knowledge, 
 
 and multiplying the blessings of social order, 
 diffusing the influence of moral obligations, 
 may be reputable to us, and beneficial to 
 
 them." 
 
 John Jay. 
 
 " The first duty of government, and the 
 surest evidence of good government, is the 
 encouragement of education. A general dif- 
 fusion of knowledge is the precursor and pro- 
 tector of republican institutions, and in it we 
 must confide as the conservative power that 
 will watch over our liberties and guard them 
 against fraud, intrigue, corruption and vio- 
 lence. I consider the system of our Com- 
 mon Schools as the palladium of our freedom, 
 for no reasonable apprehension can be enter- 
 tained of its subversion, as long as the great 
 body of the people are enlightened by educa- 
 tion. To increase the funds, to extend the 
 benefits, and to remedy the defects of this 
 excellent system, is worthy of your most de- 
 lil.ierate attention. I can not recommend in 
 terms too strong and impressive, as munifi- 
 cent appropriations as the faculties of the 
 State will authorize for all establishments 
 connected with the interests of education, 
 the exaltation of literature and science, and 
 the improvement of the human mind." 
 
 De Witt Clinton. 
 
 " Tlie parent who sends his son into the 
 world uneducated, defrauds the community 
 of a lawful citizen, and bequeaths to it a 
 nuisance." Chancellor Kent. 
 
 In the discussions which have taken place 
 in the press and in the halls of legislation 
 on the subject, the experience of the New 
 England States is constantly cited as an irre- 
 futable argument in favor of public schools 
 and universal education. The character and 
 value of this example are admirably set forth 
 by Daniel Webster: 
 
 " In this particular. New England may be 
 allowed to claim, I think, a merit of a pecu- 
 liar character. She early adopted and has 
 constantly maintained the principle, that it 
 is the undoubted right, and the bounden 
 duty of government, to provide for the in- 
 struction of all youth. That which is else- 
 where left to chance, or to charity, we secure 
 by law. For the purpose of public instruc- 
 tion, we hold everv man subject to taxation 
 in proportion to his property, and we look 
 not to the question, whether he himself have, 
 or have not, children to be benefited by the 
 education for which he pays. We regard it 
 
354 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 as a wise and liberal system of police, by 
 ■which property, and life, and the peace of 
 society are secured. We seek to prevent in 
 some measure the extension of the penal 
 code, by inspiring a salutary and conserva- 
 tive principle of virtue and of knowledge in 
 an early age. We hope to ex'cite a feeling 
 of respectability, and a sense of character, by 
 enlarging the capacity, and increasing the 
 sphere of intellectual enjoyment. By gen- 
 eral instruction, we seek, as far as possible, 
 to purify the whole moral atmosphere ; to 
 keep good sentiments uppermost, and to turn 
 the strong current of feeling and opinion, as 
 well as the censures of the law, and the de- 
 nunciations of religion, against immorality 
 and crime. We liope for a security, beyond 
 the law, and above the law, in the prevalence 
 of enlightened and well-principled moral sen- 
 timent. We hope to continue and prolong 
 the time when, in (he villages and farm- 
 houses of New England, there may be undis- 
 turbed sleep within unbarred doors. And 
 knowing that our government rests directly 
 on the public will, tliat we may preserve it, 
 we endeavor to give a safe and proper direc- 
 tion to that public will. We do not, indeed, 
 expect all men to be philosophers or states- 
 men ; but we confidently trust, and our ex- 
 pectation of the duration of our system of 
 government rests on that trust, that by the 
 diffusion of general knowledge and good and 
 virtuous sentiments, the political fabric may 
 be secure, as well against open violence and 
 overthrow, as against the slow but sure un- 
 dermining of licentiousness." 
 
 The action of Congress, and of the early 
 constitutional conventions of the several 
 states, shows how nobly the public mind 
 responded to these appeals. 
 
 On the 17th of May, 1784, Mr. Jefferson, 
 as chairman of a committee for that purpose, 
 introduced into the old Congress an ordin- 
 ance respecting the disposition of the public 
 lands; but tins contained no reference to 
 schools or education. On the 4th of March, 
 1785, another ordinance was introduced — by 
 whom does not appear on the journal — and 
 on the 16th of the same month was recom- 
 mitted to a committee consisting of Pierce 
 Long of New Hampshire, Rufus King of 
 Massachusetts, David Howell of Rhode Is- 
 land, Wm. S. Johnson of Connecticut, R. R. 
 Livingston of New York, Chai'les Stewart of 
 New Jersey, Joseph Gardner of Pennsyl- 
 vania, John Henry of Maryland, William 
 Grayson of Virginia, Hugh Williamson of 
 
 North Carolina, John Bull of South Caro- 
 lina, and William Houston of Georgia. On 
 the 14th of April following, this committee 
 reported the ordinance — by whom drawn up 
 no clue is given — which, after being perfect- 
 ed, was passed the 20th of May folbswing, 
 and became the foundation of the existing 
 land system of the United States. 
 
 By one of its provisions, the sixteenth sec- 
 tion of every township was reserved ^'■for the 
 maintenance of jiublic .schools ;" or, in other 
 words, one section out of the thirty-six 
 composing each township. The same pro- 
 vision was incorporated in the large land 
 sale, in 17S6, to the Ohio Company, and the 
 f dlowing year in Judge Symmes' purchase. 
 The celebrated ordinance of 1 787, for the gov- 
 ernment of the territory north-west of the 
 Ri\'er Ohio, and which confirmed the pro- 
 visions of the land ordinance of 1785, pro- 
 vides further, that, " Religion, Morality 
 and Knowledge being necessary to good 
 government and the happiness of mankind, 
 Schools, and the means of Education, 
 shall be forever encouraged." froul 
 that day to the present, this noble policy 
 has -been confirmed and extended, till its 
 blessings now reach even the distant shores 
 iof the Pacific, and fiftv millions of acres 
 of the public domain have been set apart and 
 consecrated to the high and ennobling pur- 
 poses of education, together with five per 
 cent, of the net proceeds of the sales of all 
 pul)lic lands in each of the states and terri- 
 tories in which they are situated. 
 
 During this period individual beneficence 
 and associated enterprise began to be direct- 
 ed to the building up, furnishing, and main- 
 taining libraries, colleges, academies, and 
 scientific institutions. Societies for the pro- 
 motion of science and literature, and schools 
 f)r professif>n.'il training, were fi)unded and 
 incorporated, and men of even moderate 
 fortune began to feel the luxury of doing 
 good, and to see that a wise endowment 
 f)r the i-elief of suffering, the diffnsion of 
 knowledge, the discovery of the laws of 
 nature, the application of the principles of 
 science to the useful arts, the conservation 
 of good morals, and the spread of religious 
 truth, is, in the best sense of the term, 
 a good investment — an investment produc- 
 tive of the greatest amount of the highest 
 good both to the donor and his posterity, 
 and which makes the residue of the prop- 
 erty from which it is taken both more se- 
 cure and more valuable. 
 
PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 
 
 355 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 PROGRESS OF COMMON' OR ELEMENTARY 
 SCHOOLS. 
 
 To nnderstand the real progress wliicli has 
 been made in the organization, administra- 
 tion, and instruction of institutions of learn- 
 ing in this country, and at the same time to 
 appreciate the importance of many agencies 
 and means of popular education besides 
 schools, books and teachers, we must, as far 
 as \vc can, look into the schools themselves, 
 as they were fiftv and sixty years ago, and 
 realize the circumstances under which some 
 of the noblest characters of our history have 
 been developed. As a contribution to our 
 knowleilge of the early history of education 
 in the United States, we bring together the 
 testimony of several eminent men who were 
 pupils or teachers in these schools, and who 
 assisted in various ways in achieving their 
 improvement. 
 
 I 
 
 LETTER FROM NOAH WEBSTER, LL.D. 
 \ 
 
 "New Haven, March 10th, 1840. 
 
 " Mr. Barnard : Dear Sir — You desire 
 me to give you some information as to, the 
 mode of instruction in common schools when' 
 I was young, or before the Revolution. I be- 
 lieve you to be better atxiuainted with the 
 methods of managing common schools, at 
 the present time, than I am ; and I am not 
 able to institute a very exact comparison 
 between the old modes and the present. 
 From what I know of the present schools in 
 the country, I believe the principal dift'erence 
 between the schools of former times and at 
 present consists in the books and instruments 
 used in the modern schools. 
 
 " When I was young, the books used were 
 chiefly or wholly Dihvorth's Spelling Books, 
 the Psalter, Testament and Bible. No ge- 
 ographv was studied before the publication 
 of Dr. Morse's small books on that subject, 
 about the year 1786 or 1787. No history 
 was read, as far as ray knowledge extends, 
 for there was no abridged history of the 
 United States. Except the books above 
 mentioned, no book for reading was used 
 before the publication of the Thii-d Part of 
 my Institute, in 1785. In some of the early 
 editions of that book, I introduced short 
 notices of the geography and history of the 
 United States, and these led to more en- 
 larged descriptions of the country. In 1788, 
 at the request of Dr. Morse, I wrote an ac- 
 
 count of the transactions in the United 
 States, after the Revolution ; which account 
 fills nearly twenty pages in the tirst volume 
 of his octavo editions. 
 
 " Before the Revolution, and for some 
 years after, no slates were used in common 
 schools ; all writing and the o]ierations in 
 arithmetic were on paper. The teacher 
 wrote the copies and gave the sums in 
 arithmetic ; few or none of the pupils having 
 anv books as a guide. Such was the cimdi- 
 tion of the schools in which I received my 
 early education. 
 
 •' The introduction of 1113' Spelling Book, 
 first published in 1783, produced a great 
 change in the department of spelling ; and 
 from the information 1 can gain, spelling was 
 taught with more care and accuracy for 
 twenty years or more after that period, tlian 
 it has been since tlie introduction of multi- 
 plied books and studies.* 
 
 " No English grammar was generally 
 taught in common schools when I was 
 voung, except that in Dilworth, and that to 
 no good purpose. In short, the instruction 
 in schools was verv imperfect, in e\ery 
 branch ; and if I am not misinformed, it is 
 so to this day, in many branches. Indeed 
 there is danger of running from one extreme 
 to another, and instead of having too few 
 books in our schools, we shall have too 
 many. 
 
 " I am, sir, with much respect, your friend 
 and obedient servant, N. Webster." 
 
 Dr. Webster, in an essay published in a 
 New York paper in 1788, "On the Educa- 
 tion of Youth in America," and in another 
 essay published in Hartford, Ct., in 1790, 
 " On Property, Government, Education, Re- 
 ligion, Agriculture, etc., in the United 
 States,"! while setting forth some of the 
 cardinal doctrines of American education as 
 now held, throws light on the condition of 
 schools and colleges in different parts of the 
 country at that date. 
 
 " The first error that I would mention is a 
 
 * " The general use of my Spelling Book in the 
 United States has had a most extensive eQect in 
 correcting the pronunciation of words, and giving 
 uniformity to the language. Of this change, the 
 present generation can have a very imperfect idea." 
 
 f These essays were afterwards collected with 
 others in a volume entitled "A Collection of Ks- 
 says and Fugitive Writings, etc." By Noali Webster, 
 Jr. iJoston: 1790. 
 
356 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 too general attention to the dead languasces, 
 witli a neo;lcct of our own. . . . This 
 neglect is so general that there is scarcely an 
 institution to be found iu the country wliere 
 the English tongue is taught regularly from 
 its elements to its pure and reguhir construc- 
 tion in prose and verse. Perhaps in most 
 schools boys are taught the detinition of the 
 parts of speech, and a few hard names which 
 they do not understand, and which the 
 teaclier seldom attempts to explain ; this is 
 called learning grammar. . . . The prin- 
 ciples of any science afford pleasure to the 
 student who comprehends them. In order to 
 render the study of language agreeable, the 
 distinctions between words should be illus- 
 trated by the diflerence in visible objects. 
 Examples should be presented to the sen- 
 ses which are the inlets of all our knowledge. 
 " Another error which is frequent in 
 America, is that a master undeitakes to 
 teach man\' different branches in the same 
 school. In new settlements, where the 
 people are poor, and live in scattered situa- 
 tions, the practice is often unavoidable. But 
 in populous towns it must be considered as a 
 defective plan of education. For suppose 
 the teacher to be equally master of all the 
 branches which ho attempts to teach, which 
 seldom happens, yet his attention must be 
 distracted with a multiplicity of objects, and 
 consequently painful t<i himself, and not use- 
 ful to his pupils. Add to this the continual 
 interruptions which the students of one 
 branch suffer from those of another, which 
 must retard the progress of the whole school. 
 It is a much more eligible plan to appropri- 
 ate an apartment to each branch of educa- 
 tion, with a teacher who makes that branch 
 bis sole employment. . . . In<leed what 
 is now called a liberal education disqualifies 
 a man for business. Habits are formed in 
 youth and by practice ; and as business is- 
 in some measure mechanical, every person 
 should be exercised in his employment in an 
 early period of life, that his habits may be 
 formed by the time his apprenticeship ex- 
 pires. An education in a university inter- 
 ■feres with the forming of these habits, and 
 perhaps forms opposite habits ; the mind 
 may contract a fondness for ease, for plea- 
 sure, or for books, which no efforts can over- 
 come. An academic education, which should 
 furnish the youth with some ideas of men 
 and things, and leave time for an apprentice- 
 ship before the age of tweuty-oue years. 
 
 would be the most eligible for young men 
 
 who are designed for active employments. 
 * * * * * " * 
 
 "But the principal defect in our plan of 
 education in America is the want of good 
 teachers in the academies and common 
 schools. By goi>d teachers I mean men of 
 unblemished reputation, and possessed of 
 abilities competent to their station. That a 
 man should be master of what he undertakes 
 to teach is a point that will not be disputed ; 
 and yet it is certain that abilities are often 
 dispensed with, either through inattention 
 or fear of expense. To those who em- 
 ploy ignorant men to instruct their children, 
 let me say, it is better for youth to have no 
 education than to have a bad one ; for it is 
 more difficult to eradicate habits than to im- 
 press now ideas. The tender shrub is easily 
 bent to any figure ; but the tree which has 
 acquired its full growth resists all impres- 
 sions. Yet abilities arc not the sole requi- 
 sites. The instructors of youth ought, of all 
 men, to be the most prudent, accomplished, 
 agreeable, anil respectable. What avail a 
 man's parts, if, while lie is 'the Aviscst and 
 brightest,' he is the ' meanest of mankind !' 
 The pernicious oftects of bad example on the 
 minds of youth will probably be acknowl- 
 edged ; but, with a view to improvement, it 
 is indispensably necessary that tlie teachers 
 should possess good breeding and agreeable 
 manners. In order to give full elfcct to in- 
 structions it is requisite that they should pro- 
 ceed from a man who is loved and respected. 
 But a low-bred clown or morose tyrant can 
 command neither love nor respect ; and that 
 pupil who has no motive for application to 
 books but the fear of the rod, will not make 
 a scholar." 
 
 LETTER FROM REV. IIKMAN HUMPHREY, D.D. 
 
 ^•s^ '■ PlTTSFIELD, Deo. 12th, 1860. 
 
 " Hon. Henry Barnard : Dear Sir — I 
 am glad to hear from you, still engaged in 
 the educational cause, and that you are in- 
 tending to 'give a picturesque survey of the 
 progress of our common schools, their equip- 
 ment, studies and character.' If my early 
 reciillections and experience will give you 
 any little aid, 1 shall esteem myself hajip)' 
 in affording it. 
 
 " The first school I remember was kept a 
 few weeks bv a maiden lady, called j\Iiss 
 Faithy, in a barn. I was very young, as 
 were most of the children. "\\'hat I learned 
 
PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 
 
 357 
 
 then, if any thing, I have forgotten. Tliis 
 was in the summer, of course. Tlie next was 
 a scliool, so called, kept a month or two by 
 a neiglibor of ours, wh<j was the best trout 
 fisher, witli liis horse-hair line, in all those 
 parts. He wrote a fiiir hand, as I remem- 
 ber, on birch bark. What he taught us, but to 
 say tue and due, has escaped my recollection. 
 We had no school-house then in our dis- 
 trict, and we met as much for play as any- 
 thing, where w-e could find shelter. The 
 next winter, another neighbor took us a few- 
 weeks into one of the rooms of his own 
 house, w here every thing but learning was go- 
 ing on. Ilis speech bewrayed him of Rhode 
 Island origin, and whatever he knew, he cer- 
 tainly could never have had much if any 
 chance of being whipped in school wlien he 
 was a boy. 1 Vemember his tremendous 
 stamp when we got noisy in school-time, and 
 that is all. This, however, is not a fair 
 sample of school accommodations in my 
 boyhood ; and I had a better chance for two 
 or three winters afterward. 
 
 " School Houses. — Most of the other 
 districts in the town had school-houses, but 
 not all. The first winter that I kept school 
 myself, was in a room next to the kitchen in 
 a small private house. Some of the school- 
 houses were better than others ; but none of 
 them in that or the adjoining towns were 
 convenient or even comfortable. The\- were 
 rather juvenile p' nit. ntiaries, than attractive 
 accotumodations fir stud\-. They were too 
 small, and low from the ceiling to the floor, 
 and the calculation of the builders seemed 
 to have been, to decide into how small a 
 space the children could be crowded, from 
 the fire-]ilace till the room was well jiacked. 
 Not unirequently sixty or seventy scholars 
 were daily shut up six hours, w-here there 
 was hardly room for thirty. The school- 
 houses were square, w-ith a very narrow en- 
 try, and a large fire-place on the side near 
 the door. There were no stoves then. They 
 were generally roughly clapboarded, but 
 never painted. They had writing-desks, or 
 rather, long boards for writing, on two or 
 three sides, next to the wall. The benches 
 w-ere all loose ; some fif them boards, with 
 slabs from the saw-mill, standing on four 
 legs, two at each end. Some were a little 
 lower than the rest, but many of the smaller 
 children had to sit all day with their legs 
 dangling between the bench and the floor. 
 Poor little things! nodding and trying to 
 keep their balance on the slabs, without any 
 
 backs to lean against, how I pity them to 
 this day. In the coldest weather, it was 
 hard to tell which was the most difficult, to 
 keep from roasting or freezing. For thcise 
 nearest to the fire it was sweltering hot, 
 while the ink was freezing in the pens on 
 the back side of the room. ' Master, I am 
 too hot' — ' Master, may I go to the fire V 
 That was the style of address in those days, 
 and we did our best to be masters, anyhow. 
 
 " All the school-houses that I remember 
 stood close by the travelled road, without 
 any play-grounds or enclosures whatever. 
 If there were any shade trees planted, or left 
 of spontaneous growth, I have forgotten 
 them. And in most cases, there were no 
 outside acconnnodations, even the most 
 necessary for a moment's occasion. I now 
 marvel at it, but so it was. In that respect, 
 certainly, the days of the children are better 
 than the days of their fathers were. 
 
 " For the most part, the winter schools 
 w-ere miserably supplied with wood. I kept 
 school myself in three towns, and in but one 
 of the schools was there any wood-shed w hat- 
 ever ; and no wood was got up and seasoned 
 in summer against winter. Most of what 
 we used was standing in the forests A\hen 
 the school began, and was cut and brought 
 sled length by the fanners in proportion to 
 the number of scholars which they sent. 
 Not exactly that, either; for sometimes, 
 when we went to the school-house in a cold 
 morning, there w-as no wiocl there. Some- 
 body had neglected to bring his load, and 
 we were obliged to adjourn over to the 
 next day. In many cases, the understand- 
 ing was, that the larger boys must cut the 
 wood as it was wanted. It always lay in 
 the snow, and sometimes the bo3's were sent 
 to dig it out in school-time, and bring it in, 
 all wet and green as it was, to keep us from 
 freezing. That was the fuel to make fires 
 with in the morning, when the thermometer 
 was below zero, and how the little children 
 cried with the cold, when the}' came almost 
 frozen, and found no fire burning; nothing 
 but one or two boys blowing and keeping 
 themselves warm as well as they could, by 
 exercise, in trying to kindle it. Such were 
 our school-houses and their disacconnnoda- 
 tions. 
 
 " Branches Taught in the Schools. — ■ 
 They were reading, spelling, and wilting, 
 besides the A Ij C's to children scarcely four 
 years old, who ought to have been at home 
 with their mothers. They were called up 
 
358 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 twice a day by tlie master pointing witli his 
 penknife ' Wiiat's that ?' 'A.' 'What's that?' 
 'D; 'No, it's B; 'What's that?' 'N.' 'No, 
 you careless boy, it's C ;' and so down to 
 ezand. 'Go to your seat, you will never learn 
 your lesson in the world, at this rate.' Our 
 school-books were the Bible, ' Webster's 
 Spelling Book,' and ' Third Part,' mainly. 
 One or two others were found in some 
 schools for the reading classes. CTrammar 
 was hardly taught at all in any of them, and 
 that little was confined almost entirely to 
 C(Mnmitting and reciting the rules. Parsing 
 was one of the occult sciences in my day. 
 We had some few lessons in geography, by 
 qtiestions and answers, but no maps, no 
 globes ; and as for black-boards, such a 
 thing was never thought of till long after. 
 Cliildren's reading and picture books, we 
 Lad none ; the fables in Webster's Spelling 
 Book came nearest to it. Arithmetic was 
 hardly taught at all in the day schools. As a 
 substitute, there were some evening schools 
 in most of the districts. Spelling was one 
 of the leading daily exercises in all the 
 classes, and it was better, a good deal, I 
 think, than it is now. 
 
 "The winter schools w-ere commonly kept 
 about three months ; in some favored dis- 
 tricts four, but rai'ely as long. As none of 
 what are now called the higher branches 
 were taught beyond the merest elements, 
 parents generally thonght that three or four 
 months was enough. There were no winter 
 select schools for the young above the age of 
 sixteen or seventeen, as I remember, till af- 
 ter I retired from the profession, such as it 
 then was. There may have been liere and 
 there an academy, in some parts of the 
 state ; but not one within the range of my 
 acquaintance. 
 
 "Our Spring Exiiiritions. — At the close 
 of the winter schools we had what we used 
 to call our Quarter-days, when the schools 
 carae together in the meeting-house, with a 
 large congregation of parents and friends. 
 The public exercises were reading, spelling, 
 and speaking single pieces, and dialogues. 
 Some of the dialogues we wrote ourselves, 
 for our own scliools. Most of them were 
 certainly very flat ; but they brought down 
 the house, and answered the purpose as well 
 as any we could pick up. We thought 
 then, as I think now, that those quarter- 
 days were of great advantage to the scho(3ls. 
 The anticipation of them kept up an interest 
 all winter, and stimulated both teachers and 
 
 scholars to do their best in the way of prep- 
 aration. As the time approached, we had 
 evening schools for reading and rehearsing 
 the dialogues, so as t<i be sure not to fall be- 
 hind in the exhibitions. None of our col- 
 lege commencements are now looked forward 
 to with gi'eater interest than were those ver- 
 nal annivei'saries. 
 
 "Another thing that helped us a good deal 
 was the occasional afternoon visits of the 
 parents and other friends of the schools. 
 They came in by invitation, or whenever 
 they chose, and their visits always did us 
 good. 
 
 " Still another practice we found to be quite 
 stimulating and useful. We had a mutual 
 understanding that, without giving anv no- 
 tice, any teacher might dismiss his own 
 school fcir an afternoon, and, taking along 
 with him some of the older boys, call in to 
 see how his brother teacher got along in the 
 next or some other district. The ariange- 
 ment worked well. We made speeches, 
 complimented one another as politely as cir- 
 cumstances W(juld allow, and went home re- 
 solved not to fall behind the best of them. 
 
 "In the school, we made up our minds to 
 be masters, in fact as well as in name. 
 Though of late years I have not had \ery 
 good advantages for making the comparison, 
 I believe the schools were quite as well gov- 
 erned sixty years ago as they are now. 
 Among other things which we did to main- 
 tain our authority, was to go out now and 
 then and have a snowball skirmish with the 
 boys, and though we commonly got beat, 
 nothing we could do was more effectual. 
 
 " Corporal punishments, I believe, were 
 sparingly resorted to in most of our schools. 
 Though I myself believed in Solomon fully, 
 I never flogged but one scholar in my life, 
 though I shook the mischief out of a great 
 many. I think Sam was of the opinion, in 
 the premises, that the rod was laid on rather 
 smartly, for I understood he promised, 
 some day, to pay me in kind, which, how- 
 ever, I suppose he never found it quite con- 
 venient to undertake. 
 
 "We schoolmasters within convenient dis- 
 tances used to meet in the winter evenings 
 for mutual improvement, which, to own the 
 truth, we needed a good deal. Our regular 
 exercises were reading for criticisms, report- 
 ing how we were getting along, and con- 
 versing upon the best method of managing 
 our schools. This was very profitable, as 
 we thought, to us all. 
 
PllOGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 
 
 359 
 
 " In those ancient times, it was an almost 
 universal custom in the rural towns of Con- 
 necticut, for the teachers to board round, 
 and upon the whole I liked it. It was a 
 good school for us. By goinc; into all the 
 families wo learned a great deal. We were 
 looked upon as having more in our heads 
 than we could fairly claim, and they always 
 kept us on the best they had. It is true, 
 the cooking was not always the best, nor 
 sheets always so clean as to guard against 
 infection ; and if, perchance, it sometimes 
 broke out, we knew how to cure it. 
 
 " Our wages were generally screwed down 
 to the lowest notch by the school commit- 
 tees, under the instruction of the districts. 
 For my first campaign I received seven dol- 
 lars a month and board ; for the next, nine ; 
 for the third, ten; and I think I ne\'er went 
 above thirteen till quite the last of my teach- 
 ing before I went to collerje. As I had 
 some reputation iu that line, I suppose I was 
 as well paid as ni}' brethren. 
 
 " With regard to the summer schools of 
 that period, 1 have very little to say. They 
 were kept by females upon very low wages, 
 about as much a week as they could earn in 
 families by spinning or wea\ing. Thej- took 
 good care of the little children, and taught 
 them as well as they could. 
 
 "As we had no grammar schools in which 
 the languages were taught, we most of us 
 fitted for college with our ministers, who, 
 though not very fresh fi'ora their classics, 
 did what they could to help us. 
 
 " Finally, you ask me whether thei-o were 
 any schools for young ladies in those old 
 times ? There may possibly ha\e been in 
 two or three of the largest towns, but the 
 only one of which I had any knowledge was 
 in Litchfield, kept by Miss Pierce, and I am 
 not quite sure that her school was estab- 
 lished as early as your question contem- 
 plates. 
 
 " These, dear sir, are some of my oU re- 
 membrances, which 3'ou may make such use 
 of as you please. 
 
 " Itcspectfully yours, 
 
 " II. Humphrey." 
 
 LETTEIl FROM HON. JOSEPH T. BUCKINGH.IM. 
 
 "Cambridge, Dec. 10th, 1S60. 
 
 " Henry Barnard, Esq. : My Bear Sir 
 — I cheerfully comply with your request to 
 give you some account of the schools and 
 the educational books that were in use about 
 
 the close of the last century. I never had 
 the privilege of attending any higher insti- 
 tution of learning than the common district 
 schools of Connecticut, in the towai of Wind- 
 ham ; but I have no doubt that those of that 
 town were a fair type of many others, prob- 
 ably most of them, except such as woi-e kept 
 in the larger towns or thickly populated vil- 
 lages. 
 
 "According to the best of mv remem- 
 brance, my school-days began in the sprino- 
 of 1783. The school to which I was admit- 
 ted was kept by a lady, and, like most of the 
 district schools, was kept only for the younger 
 pupils, and was open for two months during 
 the summer season. The upper class in the 
 school was formed entirely of females — such 
 as could read in the Bible. The lower classes 
 read in spelling books and the New England 
 rrimer. The spelling books, of which there 
 were not, probably, more than three or four 
 in the school, I believe were all by Dilworth, 
 and were much worn and defaced, having 
 been a sort of heir-loom in the flunilies of 
 the pupils. The teacher of this school was 
 the daughter of the minister of tlie parish. 
 She kept a rod hanging on the wall behind 
 her chair and a ferule on the table by her 
 side ; but I do not recollect that she used 
 either of them. The girls wdio constituted 
 the first class were required, every Monday 
 morning, to repeat the text or texts of the 
 preceding day's discourse, stating the book, 
 chapter, and verse whence it was taken. The 
 next summer, 1784, the same lady, or one of 
 her sisters, kept school in the same district. 
 The same books were in use, and there was 
 the same routine of exercises. It was kept 
 on the first tloor of the steeple. The lower 
 end of the bell-rope lay in a coil in the centre 
 of the floor. The discipline was so strict, 
 that no one, however mischievously disposed, 
 I believu ever thought of taking hold of it, 
 though it was something of an incumlirance. 
 I was then four years and a half old, and had 
 learned b;/ heart nearly all the reading lessons 
 in the I'rimer, and much of the Westminster 
 Catechism, which was taught as the closing 
 exercise every Saturday. But justice to one 
 of the best of mothers requires that I should 
 say that much the greater part of the im- 
 provement I had made was acquired from 
 her careful instruction. 
 
 "In December, 1784, the month in which 
 T was five years old, I attended, for a few 
 days, the school kept by a master — I do not 
 remember his name. When asked up for 
 
360 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 examination, he asked me if I could read 
 without spelling ? I said I could read in the 
 Bible. He hesitated a moment, and then 
 placed me on one of the benches, opened a 
 Bible at the fifth chapter of Acts, and asked 
 me to read. I read ten or a dozen verses — 
 being the account of Ananias and his wife 
 falling dead before Peter for telling a lie. 
 Whether he had any suspicion that I had 
 told a falsehood, and took this method to 
 reprove me, I know not; but he dismissed 
 me with approbation. lie used his ferule on 
 the hands of some of the elder boys ; but 
 the severest punishment that he inflicted for 
 any violation of order, was compelling a boy 
 who had brought into the school the breast- 
 bone of a chicken, (commonly called the 
 xoislmig-hone,) and with which he had excited 
 some noise among the pupils, to stand on 
 one of the benches and wear the bone on 
 his nose till the school was dismissed. I 
 am strongly impressed with the belief that 
 Webster's spelling book made its first ap- 
 pearance in the schools during this winter. 
 The following summer I attended, but very 
 irregularly, a school kept as before in the 
 steeple of the meeting-house,* and had a 
 copy of Webster. Whether there were any 
 other copies in the school or not I am not 
 able to say. The next two winters, circum- 
 stances winch I have no desire to recall, and 
 which 3'ou would not care to be acquainted 
 with, prevented my attending any school. 
 In the summer of 1786, these same circum- 
 stances caused me to be removed to another 
 district three miles distant from the central 
 village. The farmer with whom I lived 
 thought I could read well enough, and as 
 the district sohool-housc was a mile or more 
 distant, he considered it unnecessary to send 
 me that distance in the winter, merely to 
 read; and consequently for two or tlircc 
 winters I went to school not more tlian eight 
 or ten days in each. At length, in 1790 or 
 1791, it was thought I was old enough to 
 learn to cipher, and accordingly was per- 
 mitted to go to school more constantly. I 
 told the master I wanted to learu to cipher. 
 He set me a sum in simple addition — five 
 cohimns of figures, and six figures in each 
 column. All the instruction ho gave me 
 was — add the figures in the first column, 
 carry one for every ten, and set the overplus 
 down under the column. I supposed he 
 meant by the first column the left hand 
 
 * Tills was the last time I went to a summer school. 
 
 column ; but what he meant by carrying one 
 for every ten ^^■as as much a mystery as 
 Samson's riddle was to the Philistines. 
 1 worried my brains an hour or two, and 
 showed the master the figures I had made. 
 You may judge what the amount was, when 
 the columns were added from left to riglit. 
 The master frowned and repeated his former 
 instruction — add up the column on the right, 
 carry one for every ten, and set down the 
 remainder. Two or three afternoons (I did 
 not go to school in the morning) were spent 
 in this way, when I begged to be excused 
 from learning to cipher, and the old gentle- 
 man with whom I lived tln^ught it was time 
 wasted ; and if I attended the school any 
 further at that time, reading and spelling, 
 and a little writing were all that was taught. 
 The next winter there was a teacher more 
 communicative and better fitted for his place, 
 and under him some progress was made in 
 arithmetic, and I made a tolerable acquisi- 
 tion in the first four rules, according to Dil- 
 worth's Schoolmaster's Assistant, of which 
 the teacher and one of the eldest boys had 
 each a copy. The two following winters, 
 1794 and 1795, I mastered all the rules and 
 examples in the first part of Dilworth ; that 
 is, through the various cliapters of Rule of 
 Three, Practice, Fellowship, Interest, etc. 
 etc., to Geometrical Progression and Per- 
 mutation. 
 
 " In our district, the books were of rather 
 a miscellaneous character, such .is had been 
 in families perhaps half a century or more. 
 My belief is that Webster's Spelling Book 
 was not in general use before 1790 or 1791, 
 The Bible was read by the first class in the 
 morning, always, and generally in the after- 
 noon before the closing exercise, which was 
 always a lesson in spelling, and this was per- 
 formed by all the pupils who were sufficient- 
 ly advanced to pronounce distinctly words 
 of more than one syllabic. It was the cus- 
 tom for all such pupils to stand together as 
 one class, and with one voice to read a column 
 or two of the tables for spelling. The mas- 
 ter gave the signal to begin, and nil united 
 to read, letter by letter, pronouncing each 
 syllable by itself, and adding it to the pre- 
 ceding one till the word was complete. Thus, 
 a-d ad, m-i ini, admi, r-a ra, adinira, t-i-o-n 
 shun, admiration. This mode of reading 
 was exceedingly exciting, and, in my humble 
 judgment, exceedingly useful ; as it required 
 and taught deliberate and distinct articula- 
 tion, and inspired the j'oungest with a desire 
 
PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 
 
 361 
 
 to equal the older ones. It is true the voices 
 ■would not all be in perfect unison ; but after 
 a little practice they began to assimilate. I 
 have heard a class of thirty or more read 
 column after column in tliis manner, Avith 
 scarcely a perceptible variation from the 
 proper pitch of voice. When the lesson had 
 been thus read, the books were closed, and 
 the words given out for spelling. If one was 
 misspelt, it passed on to the next, and the 
 next pupil in order, and so on till it was 
 spelt correctl}-. Then the pupil who liad 
 spelt correctly went up in the class above tiie 
 one who had misspelt. It was also a prac- 
 tice, when one was absent from tliis exercise 
 in spelling, that he should stand .at the foot 
 of the class when he returned. Another of 
 our customs was to choose sides to spell once 
 or twice a weelc. The words to be spelt went 
 from side to side ; and at the conclusion, the 
 side which beat (spelt the most words) were 
 permitted to leave the schoolroom, preceding 
 the other side, who had to sweep the room 
 and build the fires the next morning. These 
 customs prevalent sixty and seventy years 
 ago excited enmlation, and emulation pro- 
 duced improvement. A revival of them, I 
 have no doubt, would be advantageous in 
 the common schools, especially where pupils 
 are required to spell words given out indis- 
 criminately from a reading book or diction- 
 ary. There was not, to my knowledge, any 
 reading book proper, except the Bible, till 
 Webster's Third I5ook, so called, came out 
 about 1793 or 1791. A new edition of his 
 spelling book furnished some new matter for 
 reading — selections from the New Testament, 
 a chapter of Proverbs, and a set of Tables, 
 etc.; but none of these operated to the exclu- 
 sion of the Bible. 
 
 " In the family in which I lived there were 
 three or four old spelling books, which I 
 presume had been used in schools before the 
 period of my remembrance. One of these 
 was a book of less than a hundred pages, 
 printed in London, I think in 1690. Tlie 
 words were arranged in tables according to 
 syllables. The terminations tion, sion, cial, 
 tial, etc., were all divided and printed as two 
 distinct syllables. (And I believe this mode 
 of printing is still continued in England. It 
 was in the time of Lindley ilurray, as may 
 be seen in liis spelling bool;, printed about 
 forty years ago.) This spelling book con- 
 tained a numeration table wliich, from a sin- 
 gular feature, early attracted my attention. 
 
 Every figure was 9, and the whole formed a 
 curious triangle. Thus : 
 
 9 
 99 
 999 and so on to 
 the last, 999,999,999 
 
 " Another spelling book in our farmer's 
 library was by Daniel Penning, printed in 
 London. It contained a short treatise on 
 grammar, on which I sometimes exercised 
 my memory, but understood not one of its 
 principles. We had also a Dilworth, con- 
 taining certain fables — such as Jupiter and 
 the Frogs, the Romish Priest and the Jester, 
 Hercules and the Wagoner, etc., etc. An- 
 other still we had, the autlior of which I 
 never knew, as several pages had been lost 
 from the beginning. It had a p.age of prov- 
 erbs, one of which — ' a cat ni.av look upon a 
 king' — occasioned me much thoughtful ex- 
 ercise. It also had an appropriate collection 
 of couplets for writing-copies, of which the 
 only one I recollect was this : 
 
 " ' X things a penman should have near at hand — 
 Pajjer, pounce, pen, ink, linife, hone, rule, plum- 
 met, wax, sand.' 
 
 But that which rendered the book so mem- 
 orable as never to be forgotten, was the as- 
 tonishing, if not terrific, word of fourteen 
 syllables — ' Ho-no-ri-fi-ca-bi-li-tu-di-ni-tu-ti- 
 bus-que' — asserted to be the longest word in 
 the English language. 
 
 ■'In the winter of 1793-4, we had for a 
 teacher ERASTtis Ripley, who was an un- 
 der-graduate of Yale College. I mention his 
 name, because I cannot look back upon the 
 time when I had the advantage of his in- 
 struction without a feeling of reverence for 
 the man and respect for the teacher. I 
 learned more from him than all the school- 
 masters I had been under. He took more 
 pains to instruct us in reading than all his 
 predecessors within my knowledge. He 
 opened the school every morning with pray- 
 er — which had not been practised in our 
 district. lie was preparing for the ministry, 
 and was afterwards settled at Canterbury, I 
 think. He was highly esteemed by all the 
 people of the district, and gave such an im- 
 petus to the ambition of the pupils, that a 
 subscription was made to employ him an ex- 
 tra month after the usual term of the school 
 had expired. 
 
 " Mr. Ripley was succeeded in the winter 
 of 1794-5 by a young man from Lebanon 
 by the name of Tisdale, under whom my 
 
362 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 school days were finislicd ; and here I may 
 bring this long and, I fear, very uninterestinix 
 letter to a close. Hoping this may serve the 
 purpose for which you suggested the writ 
 ing of it, and wishing you all the success 
 you can desire in the noble cause in which 
 you arc engaged, 
 
 " I am, very respectfully 
 "And truly yours, 
 
 "Joseph T. Buckingham." 
 
 letter from rev. eliphalet nott, d.d., 
 dated jan., 1861. 
 
 " When I was a boy, seventy-five or eighty 
 years ago, in good old Puritan Connecticut, 
 it was felt as a practical maxim ' that to 
 spare the rod was to spoil the child ;' and 
 on this maxim the pedagogue acted in the 
 school-room, and ajiplied it for every offence, 
 real or imaginary ; and for having been 
 whipped at school by the relentless master, 
 the unforttmate tyro was often whipped at 
 home by his no less relentless father; so 
 that between the two relentless executors of 
 justice among the Ptnitan fathers, few 
 children, I believe, were spoiled by the with- 
 holding of this orthodox discipline. For 
 myself, I can say (and I do not think I was 
 wayward beyond the average of district 
 school-boys) that, in addition to warnings, 
 and admonitions daily, if I was not whipped 
 more than three times a week, I considered 
 myself for the time peculiarly fortunate. 
 
 " Being of a contemplative and forbearing 
 disposition, this discipline of the rod became 
 peculiarly irksome to me, and, as I thought, 
 unjustifiable; and I formed a resolution, if I 
 lived to be a man, I would not be like other 
 men in regard to their treatment of children. 
 
 " Through the mercy of God I did live to 
 be a man, and when at the age of eighteen 
 I became installed as master of a district 
 school in the eastern part of Franklin, Con- 
 necticut — a school where rebellious spirits 
 had previously asserted their rights, and 
 been subdued or driven from the school 
 by the use of the rod — nothing daunted, 
 I made up my mind to substitute in my 
 school moial motives in the place of the 
 rod; and I frankly toM my assembled pu- 
 pils so, and that if they would have the 
 generosity to second my etlorts, thev would 
 secure to themselves and furnish me and 
 their parents the happiness which is the 
 heaven-appointed reward of well-doing. 
 
 " The school responded to my ajtpeal, and 
 
 thereafter, though we played and gambolled 
 together as equals in play-hours, and on 
 Saturday afternoons, wliicli were also de- 
 voted to play, the moment we entered the 
 school-room, a subordination and application 
 to study was obser\able, that became matter 
 of remark and admiration among the in- 
 habitants of the district, the fame of which 
 success extended to other districts, and even 
 to adjoining towns, so that the examination 
 and exhibition with which the school closed 
 the ensuing spring, called together clergymen 
 and other officials from places quite lemote. 
 
 " This success brought me to the knowl- 
 edge of the trustees of the Plainfield Acad- 
 emy, one of the most important, if not at 
 the time the most important academy in the 
 state, and I was by a unanimous \'ote ap- 
 pointed pi-ineijial of said academy — an in- 
 stitution in which several hundred children 
 of both sexes were in the same building 
 successfully taught and governed, for years, 
 without the use of the rod, it being at that 
 time the prevailing usage, both in district 
 schools and academies, for the two sexes to 
 be taught in the same room, and subjected 
 to the same form of government. 
 
 " This successful experiment in the use of 
 moral suasion, and other kindred and kindly 
 influences, in place of the rod, led to other 
 and kindred experiments, until, wdiether for 
 the better or the worse, the rod at length 
 came to occupy a very subordinate place in 
 the system of sclwol education. 
 
 " In those days, education in common 
 schools was not so diffusive as at the present 
 day ; but quite as thorough, if not more so. 
 The same remark may be .applied to the 
 higher .schools or academies — the whole field 
 of natural science being at that time, for the 
 most part, unexplored ; but mathematics and 
 classics were zealously taught. In evidence 
 of this, though inferior in attainments to 
 some of my classmates, I published success- 
 fully myself an almanac when about twenty- 
 one years of age. 
 
 " As the rod in those days was the prin- 
 cipal instrument in common school edu- 
 cation, so when I was afterward called to 
 Union College, fines, suspensions, and ex- 
 pulsions were the principal instruments of 
 collegiate government. The faculty sat in 
 their robes as a court, caused t)flenders to be 
 brought before them, examined witnesses, 
 heard defences, and pronounced sentences 
 with the solemnity of other courts of justice ; 
 and thouii;!! Union Collecje had on its cata- 
 
PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 
 
 363 
 
 logue but a ver}' dimimiti\e number of stu- 
 dents, the sitting of the faculty as a court 
 occupied no inconsiderable part of the time 
 of its president and professors. 
 
 " Soon after I became connected with 
 the college as its president, a case of disci- 
 pline occurred which led to the trial and is- 
 sued in the expulsion of a student belong- 
 ing to a very respectable family in the city 
 of Albany. According to the charter of 
 Union College, the sentence of the faculty is 
 not final. An appeal can be taken to the 
 board of trustees, and in the case in ques- 
 tion an appeal was taken, and, after keeping 
 college in confusion for months, by the dif- 
 ferent hearings of the case, the board re- 
 versed the decision of the faculty, and re- 
 stored the young man. On the event of this 
 restoration, I informed them that they should 
 never, during my administration, have occa- 
 sion to review another case of discipline by 
 the faculty ; and during the fifty-six years 
 which have since passed away, I have kept 
 my word ; and though we have been less 
 successful in oiu' system of parental govern- 
 ment than could be wished, we have had no 
 rebellions, and it is conceded, I believe gen- 
 erall}', that (juite as large a proportion of 
 our young men have succeeded in after life 
 as of any other collegiate institution in the 
 Union." 
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF PETER PARLEY. 
 
 The following picture of the District 
 School as it was a few years later, in the 
 town of Ridgetield,* one of the most ad- 
 vanced agricultural communities of Connec- 
 
 * " Nearly all tlio iDhabitants of Ridgcfleld were 
 farmers, with the few mechanics that were neces- 
 sary to carry on society in a somewhat primeval 
 state. Even the persons not professionally devoted 
 to agriculture, had each his farm, or at least his gar- 
 den and homo lot, with his pigs, poultry, and cattle. 
 The population might ha\c been 1200, comprising 
 200 families. All could read and write, but in jioint 
 of fact, beyond the Almanac and ■V\'atts' Psalms and 
 Hymns, their literary acquirements had little scope. 
 There were, I think", four newspapers, all weekly, 
 publislied in the state: one at Hartford, one at New 
 London, one at New Ilavcn, and one at Litchfield. 
 There were, however, not more than throe sub- 
 scribers to all these in our village, "rt'e had, liow- 
 evor, a public library of some 200 volumes, and 
 what was of equal consequence — the town was on 
 the road which was then the great thoroughfare, 
 connecting Boston with New York, and hence it 
 had mean's of intelligence from travellers constantly 
 passing through the place, which kept it up with 
 the march of events." 
 
 ticut, is from the pen of Peter Parley, in his 
 " Recollections of a Lifetime^ 
 
 " About three fourths of a mile from my 
 father's house, on the winding road to Lower 
 Salem, which bore the name of West Lane, 
 was the school-house where I took my first 
 lessons, and received the foundations of my 
 very slender education. I have since been 
 sometimes asked where I graduated : my 
 reply has always been, ' At West Lane.' Gen- 
 erally speaking, this has ended the inquiry, 
 whether because my interlocutors have con- 
 founded this venerable institution with ' Lane 
 Seminary,' or have not thought it worth while 
 to risk an exposure of their ignorance as to 
 the college in which I was educated, I am 
 unable to say. 
 
 " The site of the school-house was a trian- 
 gular piece of land, measuring perliaps a 
 rood in extent, and lying, accordiug to the 
 custom of those days, at the meeting of four 
 roads. The ground hereabouts — as every- 
 where else in Pvidgelield — was exceedingly 
 stony, and in making the pathway the stones 
 had been thrown out right and loft, and 
 there remained in heaps on either side, from 
 generation to generation. All round was 
 bleak and desolate. Loose, squat stone 
 walls, with iimumerable breaches, inclosed 
 adjacent fields. A few tufts of elder, with 
 here and there a patch of briers and poke- 
 weed, flourished in the gravelly soil. Not a 
 tree, liowever, remained, save an aged chest' 
 nut, at the western angle of the space. This 
 certainly had not been spared for shade or 
 ornament, but probably because it wotdd 
 have cost too much labor to cut it down, for 
 it was of ample girth. At all events it was 
 the oasis in our desert during summer ; and 
 in autumn, as the burrs disclosed its fruit, 
 it resembled a besieged city. The boys, 
 like so many catapults, hurled at it stones 
 and sticks, until every nut liad capitulated. 
 
 " Two houses only were at liand : one, sur- 
 rounded by an ample barn, a teeming or- 
 chard, and an enoraious wood-pile, belonged 
 to Granthcr Baldwin ; the other was the 
 property of 'Old Chich-cs-ter,' an uncouth, 
 unsocial being, whom everybody for some 
 reason or other seemed to despise and shun. 
 His house was of stone and of one story. 
 He had a cow, which every year had a calf. 
 He had a wife — filthy, uncombed, and vague- 
 ly reported to have been brouglit from the 
 old country. This is about the whole his- 
 tory of the man, so far as it is written in 
 the authentic traditions of the parish. His 
 
364 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 premises, an acre in extent, consisted of a 
 tongue of land lietween two of the converg- 
 ing roads. No boy, that I ever heard of, 
 ventured to cast a stone or to make an in- 
 cursion into this territory, though it lay 
 close to the school-house. I liave often, in 
 passing, peeped timidly over the walls, and 
 caught glimpses of a stout man with a drab 
 coat, drab breeches, and drab gaiters, glazed 
 with ancient grease and long abrasion, prowl- 
 ing about the house ; but never did I dis- 
 cover him outside of his own dominion. I 
 know it was darkly intimated that he had 
 been a tory, and was tarred and feathered in 
 the revolutionary war, but as to the rest he 
 was a perfect myth. Granther Baldwin was 
 a character no less marked, but I must re- 
 serve [lis picture for a subsequent letter. 
 
 "The school-house itself consisted of rough, 
 unpainted clapboards, upon a wooden frame. 
 It was plastered within, and contained two 
 apartments — a little entr}-, taken out of a 
 corner for a wardrobe, and the school-room 
 proper. The chinmey was of stone, and 
 pointed with mortar, which, by the way, 
 had been dug into a honeycomb by uneasy 
 and enterprising penknives. The fireplace 
 was six feet wide and four feet deep. The 
 flue was so ample and so perpendicular, that 
 the rain, sleet, and snow fell direct to the 
 hearth. In winter, the battle for life with 
 green fizzling fuel, which was brought in 
 sled lengths and cut up by the scholars, was 
 a stern one. Not unfrequently, the wood, 
 gushing with sap as it was, chanced to be 
 out, and as there was no living without fire, 
 the thermometer being ten or twenty degrees 
 below zero, the school was dismissed, where- 
 at all the scholars rejoiced aloud, not having 
 the fear of the schoolmaster before their 
 eyes. 
 
 " It was the custom at this place to have a 
 woman's school in the summer months, and 
 this was attended only by young children. 
 It was, in fact, what we now call a primary 
 or infant school. In winter, a man was 
 employed as teacher, and then the girls and 
 boys of the neighborhood, up to the ago of 
 eighteen, or even twenty, were among the 
 pupils. It was not uncommon, at this sea- 
 son, to have forty scholars crowded into this 
 little building. 
 
 " I was about six years old when I first 
 went to school. My teacher was Aunt De- 
 light, that is. Delight Benedict, a maiden 
 lady of fifty, short and bent, of sallow com- 
 plexion and solemn aspect. I remember the 
 
 first day with perfect distinctness. I went 
 alone — for I was familiar with the road, it 
 being that which passed by our old house. 
 I carried a little basket, with bread and 
 butter within, for my dinner, the same being 
 covered over with a white cloth. When I 
 had proceeded about half way, I lifted the 
 cover, and debated whether I would not eat 
 my dinner then. I believe it was a sense 
 of duty only that prevented my doing so, 
 for in those happy days I always had a 
 keen appetite. Bread and butter were tlien 
 infinitely superior to imtc de foie r/ras now; 
 but still, thanks to my training, I had also a 
 conscience. As my mother had given me 
 the food for dinner, I did not think it right 
 to convert it into lunch, even though I was 
 strongly tempted. 
 
 " I think we had seventeen scholars — boys 
 and girls — mostly of my own age. Among 
 them were some of my after companions. I 
 have since met several of them — one at 
 Savannah, and two at Mobile, respectably 
 established, and with families around them. 
 Some remain, and are now among the gray 
 old men of the town ; the names of others I 
 have seen inscribed on the tombstones of 
 tlicir native village. And the rest^where 
 arc they ? 
 
 " The school being organized, we were all 
 seated upon benches, made of what were 
 called slabs — that is, boards having the ex- 
 terior or rounded part of the log on one 
 side : as they were useless for other purposes, 
 those were converted into school-benches, 
 the rounded part down. They had each 
 four supports, consisting of straddling wood- 
 en legs, set into auger holes. Our own legs 
 swayed in 'the air, for they were too short to 
 touch the floor. Oh, what an awe fell over 
 me, when we were all seated and silence 
 reigned around ! 
 
 " The children were called up, one by one, 
 to Aunt Delight, who sat on a low chair, 
 and required each, as a preliminary, to make 
 his manners, consisting of a small sudden 
 nod or jerk of the head. She then placed 
 the spelling-book — which was Dilworth's — 
 before the pupil, and with a buck-handled 
 penknife pointed, one by one, to the letters 
 of the alphabet, saying, ' What's that ?' If 
 the child knew liis "letters the ' What's that ?' 
 very soon ran on thus : 
 
 '"What's that?' 
 
 " ' A.' 
 
 " ' 'Stha-a-t ?' 
 
 " ' B.' 
 
PROGRESS or COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 
 
 365 
 
 " ' Sna-a-a-t f 
 
 '"C 
 
 " ' Sna-a-a-t V 
 
 " ' Sna-a-a-t V 
 
 " ' e; &c. 
 
 " I looked upon these operations witli in- 
 tense curiosity and no small respect, until 
 my own turn came. I went up to the scliool- 
 imistress with some emotion, and when she 
 s:iid, rather spitefully, as I thought, ' ilake 
 yiiur obeisance!' my little intellects all fled 
 a way, and I did nothing. Haying \vaited a 
 second, gazing at me with indignation, she 
 laid her hand on the top of my head, and 
 gave it a jerk which made my teeth clash. 
 1 belicyc I bit my tongue a little; at all 
 (■vents, my sense of dignity was offended, 
 :ind when she pointed to A, and asked what 
 it was, it swam before me dim and hazy, 
 and as big as a full moon. She repeated the 
 question, but I was doggedly silent. Again, 
 a third time, she said, ' What's that ?' I 
 replied: 'Why don't you tell me what it 
 is? I didn't come here to learn you your 
 letters !' I liaye not the slightest remem- 
 brance of this, for my brains were all a-wool- 
 gathering ; but as Aunt Delight aflirmed it 
 to be a fact, and it passed into tradition, I 
 put it in. I may have told this story some 
 years ago in one of my books, imputing it 
 to a fictitious hero, yet this is its true origin, 
 according to my recollection. 
 
 "What immediately followed I do not 
 clearly remember, but one result is distinct- 
 ly traced in my memory. In the evening 
 of this eventful day, the school-mistress paid 
 my parents a visit, and recounted to their 
 astonished ears this, my awful contempt of 
 authority. My father, after hearing the 
 story, got up and went away; but my 
 mother, who was a careful disciplinarian, 
 told mc not to do so again 1 I always had 
 a suspicion that both of them smiled on one 
 side of their faces, even while they seemed 
 to sj-mpathizc with the old petticoat and 
 penknife pedagogue, on the other; still I 
 do not aflirm it, for I am bound to say, of 
 both my parents, that I never knew them, 
 even in trifles, say one thing while they 
 meant another. 
 
 "I believe I achieved the alphabet that 
 summer, but my after progress, for a long 
 time, I do not remember. Two years later 
 I went to the winter-school at the same place, 
 kept by Lewis Olmstead — a man who had a 
 call for plowing, mowing, carting manure, 
 22 * 
 
 etc., in summc^and for teaching school in the 
 winter, with a talent for music at all seasons, 
 wherefore he became chorister upon occa- 
 sion, when, peradventure. Deacon Kawley 
 could not officiate. He was a celebrity in 
 ciphering, and 'Squire Seymour declared 
 that he was the greatest ' arithmeticker' in 
 Fairfield county. All I remember of his 
 person is his bund, which seemed to me as 
 big as Goliah's, judging by the claps of 
 thunder it made in my ears on one or two 
 occasions. 
 
 " The next step of my progress which is 
 marked in my memory, is the spelling of 
 words of two syllables. I did nut go very 
 regularly to school, but by the time I was 
 ten years old I had learned to write, and 
 had made a little progress in arithmetic. 
 There was not a grammar, a geography, or 
 a history of any kind in the school. Read- 
 ing, writing, and arithmetic were the only 
 things taught, and these very indifterently — 
 not wholly from the stupidity of the teacher, 
 but because he had furty scholars, and the 
 standards of the age required no more than 
 he performed. I "did as well as the other 
 scholars, certainly no better. I had excel- 
 lent health and joyous spirits; in leaping, 
 running, and wrestling, I had but one su- 
 perior of my age, and that was Stephen 
 Olmstead, a snug-built fellow, smaller than 
 myself, and who, despite our rivalry, was 
 my chosen friend and companion. I seemed 
 to live for play: alas! how the world has 
 changed since I have discovered that we live 
 to agonize over study, work, care, ambition, 
 
 disappointment, and then ? 
 
 " As I shall not have occasion again, for- 
 mally, to introduce this seminary into my 
 narrative, I may as well close my account 
 of it now. After I had left my native town 
 for some twenty years, I returned and paid 
 it a visit. Among the monuments that 
 stood liigh in my memory was the West 
 Lane school-house. Unconsciously carrying 
 with me the measures of childhood, I had 
 supposed it to be at least thirty feet square ; 
 how had it dwindled when I came to esti- 
 mate it by the new standards I had form- 
 ed ! It was in all things the same, yet 
 wholly changed to me. What I had deem- 
 ed a respectable edifice, as it now stood be- 
 fore me was only a weather-beaten little 
 shed, which, upon being measured, I found 
 to be less than twenty feet square. It hap- 
 pened to be a warm, summer day, and I 
 ventured to enter the place. I found a girl, 
 
366 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 some eighteen years old, keeping ' a ma'am 
 school' for about twenty scholars, some of 
 ■whom were studying Parley's Geography. 
 The mistress was the daughter of one of my 
 schoolmates, and some of the hoys and girls 
 were grandchildren of the little brood which 
 gathered under tlie wing of Aunt Delight, 
 when I was an a-b-c-darian. None of tliem, 
 not even the school-mistress, liad ever heard 
 of me. The name of my father, as having 
 ministered unto the people of Ilidgefield in 
 some bvgone age, was fiiintly traced in their 
 recollection. As to Peter Parley, whose 
 Geography they were learning — they sup- 
 posed him some decrepit old gentleman 
 hobbling about on a crutch, a long way off, 
 for whom, nevertheless, they had a certain 
 afi'ection, inasmuch as he had made geogra- 
 phy into a story-book. The frontispiece- 
 picture of the old fellow, with his gouty foot 
 in a chair, threatening the boys that if they 
 touched his tender toe, he would toll thorn 
 no more stories, secured their respect, and 
 placed him among the saints in the calendar 
 of their young hearts. Well, thought I, if 
 this goes on I may yet rival Mother Goose ! 
 
 " At the age of ten years I was sent to the 
 up-town school, the leading seminary of the 
 village, for at this period it had not ar- 
 rived at the honor of an academy, the in- 
 stitution being then, and many years after, 
 under the charge of Master Stebbius. He 
 was a man with a conciliating stoop in the 
 shoulders, a long body, short legs, and a 
 swaying walk, lie was, at this period, some 
 fifty years old, his hair being thin and sil- 
 ver)', and always falling in well-combed rolls 
 over his coat-collar. Ills eye was blue, 
 and his dress invariably of the same color. 
 Breeches and knee-buckles, blue-mixed stock- 
 ings, and shoes with bright buckles, seemed 
 as much a part of the man as his head and 
 shoulders. On the whole, his appearance 
 was that of the middle-class gentleman of 
 the olden time, and he was in fact what he 
 seemed. 
 
 " This seminary of learning for the rising 
 aristocracy of llidgetield was a wooden edi- 
 fice, thirty by twenty feet, covered with 
 brown clapboards, and, except an entry, con- 
 sisted of a single room. Around and against 
 the walls ran a continuous line of seats, front- 
 ed by a continuous writing-desk. Beneath, 
 were depositories for books and writing mate- 
 rials. The centre was occupied by slab seats, 
 similar to those of West Lane. The larger 
 scholars were rantfed on the outer sides, at 
 
 the desks; the smaller fry of a-b-c-darians 
 were seated in the centre. The master was 
 enshrined on the east side of the room, con- 
 trary, be it remembered, to the law of the 
 French savans, which places dominion in- 
 variably in the west. Regular as the sun, 
 Master Stebbins was in his seat at nine 
 o'clock, and the performances of the school 
 began. 
 
 " According to the Catechism — which, by 
 the way, we learned and recited on Saturday 
 — the chief end of man was to glorify God 
 and keep his commandments : according to 
 the routine of this school, one would have 
 thought it to be reading, writing, and arith- 
 metic, to which we may add spelling. From 
 morning to night, in all weathers, through 
 every season of the year, these exercises 
 wore carried on with the energy, patience, 
 and perseverance of a manufactory. 
 
 "Master Stebbins respected his calling: 
 his heart was in his work ; and so, what he 
 pretended to teach, he taught well. When 
 I entered the school, I found that a huge 
 stride had been achieved in the march of 
 mind since I had left West Lane. Webster's 
 Spelling Book had taken the place of Dil- 
 worth, which was a great improvement. 
 The drill in spelling was very thorough, and 
 applied every day to the whole school. I 
 imagine that the exercises might have 
 been amusing to a stranger, especially as 
 one scholar would sometimes go off in a 
 voice as grum as that of a bull-frog, while 
 another would follow in tones as fine and 
 piping as a peet-weet. The blunders, too, 
 were often ineflfably ludicrous; even we 
 children would sometimes have tittered, had 
 not .such an enormity been certain to have 
 brought o>it the birch. As to rewards and 
 punishments, the system was this : who- 
 ever missed went down ; so that perfection 
 mounted to the top. Here was the begin- 
 ning of the up and down of life. 
 
 " Reading was performed in classes, which 
 generally plodded on without a hint from 
 the master. Nevertheless, when Zeek San- 
 ford — who was said to have a streak of 
 lightning in him — in his haste to be smart, 
 read the 37th verse of the 2d chapter of the 
 Acts — ' Now w hen they heard this, they 
 were pick/ed in their heart' — the birch stick 
 on Master Stcbbins's table seemed to quiver 
 and peel at the little end, as if to give warn- 
 ing of the wrath to come. When Orry 
 Keeler — Orry was a girl, you know, and not 
 a boy — drawled out in spelling : k — o — n, 
 
PROGRESS OF COMMON OK ELEMENTARV SCHOOLS. 
 
 367 
 
 hoii, s — li — u — n — t — s, shunts, konshunts 
 — the bristles in the master's eyebrows fiJg- 
 cti'J like Aunt Delight's knitting-needles. 
 Occasionally, when the reading was insup- 
 portably bad, he took a book and read him- 
 self, as an example. 
 
 " We were taught arithmetic in Daboll, 
 then a new book, and which, being adapted 
 to our measures of length, weight, and cur- 
 rency, was a prodigious leap over the head 
 of poor old Dilworth, whose rules and ex- 
 amples were modelled upon English customs. 
 In consequence of the general use of Dil- 
 worth in our schools, for perhaps a century 
 — pounds, shillings, and pence were classi- 
 cal, and dollars and cents vulgar, for several 
 succeeding generations. ' I would not give 
 a penny for it,' was genteel ; ' I would not 
 give a cent for it,' was plebeian. We have 
 not yet got over this : we sometimes say red 
 cent in familiar parlance, but' it can hardly 
 be put in print without offence. 
 
 " Master Stebbins was a great man with a 
 slate and pencil, and I liave an idea that we 
 were a generation after his own heart. We 
 certainly achieved wonders according to our 
 own conceptions, some of us going even be- 
 yond the Rule of Three, and making forays 
 into the mysterious region of Vulgar Frac- 
 tions. Several daring geniuses actually en- 
 tered and took possession. 
 
 " But after all, penmanship was Master 
 Stebbins's great accomplishment. Uc had 
 no mai;niloquent system ; no pompous les- 
 sons upon single lines and bitid lines, and 
 the like. The revelations of inspired copy- 
 book makers Lad not then been vouchsafed 
 to man. He could not cut an American 
 eagle with a single flourish of a goose-quill. 
 He was guided by good taste and native 
 instinct, and wrote a smooth round hand, 
 like copper-plate. His lessons from A to &, 
 all written by himself, consisted of pithy 
 proverbs and useful moral lessons. On every 
 page of our writing-books he wrote the first 
 line liimself. The effect was what might 
 have been expected — with such models, pa- 
 tiently enforced, nearly all became good 
 writers. 
 
 " Beyond these simple elements, the Up- 
 town school made few pretensions. When 
 I was there, two W^ebster's Grammars and 
 one or two Dwight's Geographies were in 
 use. The latter was without maps or illus- 
 trations, and was in fact little more than an 
 expanded table of contents, taken from 
 Morse's Universal Geography — the mam- 
 
 moth monument of American learning and 
 genius of that age and generation. The 
 grammar was a clever book ; but I have an 
 idea that neither Master Stebbins nor his 
 pupils ever fathomed its depths. They floun- 
 dered about in it, as if in a quagmire, and 
 after some time came out pretty nearly where 
 they went in, though perhaps a little obfus- 
 cated by the dim and dusky atmosphere of 
 these labyrinths. 
 
 " The fact undoubtedly is, that the art of 
 teaching, as now understood, beyond the 
 simplest elements, was neither known nor 
 deemed necessary in our country schools in 
 their day of small things. Repetition, drill- 
 ing, line upon line, and precept upon pre- 
 cept, with here and there a little of the birch 
 — constituted the entire system. 
 
 " Let me here repeat an anecdote, which 
 I have indeed told before, but which I had 
 from the lips of its hero, G . . . H . . ., a 
 clergyman of some note thirty years ago, 
 and which well illustrates this part of my 
 story. At a village school, not many miles 
 from Ridgefield, he was put into Webster's 
 Grammar. Here he read, ' A noun is the 
 name of a thing — as horse, hair, justice.'' 
 Now in his innocence, he read it thus : ' A 
 noun is the name of a thing — as horse-hair 
 justice.'' 
 
 " ' What then,' said he, ruminating deeply, 
 ' is a noun ? But first I must find out what 
 a horse-hair justice is.' 
 
 " Upon this he meditated for some days, 
 but still he was as far as ever from the solu- 
 tion. Now his father was a man of authority 
 in those parts, and moreover he was a justice 
 of the peace. Withal, he was of respectable 
 ancestry, and so there had descended to him 
 a somewhat stately high-backed settee, cov- 
 ered with horse-hair. One day, as the youth 
 came from school, pondering upon the great 
 grammatical problem, he entered the fnmt 
 door of the house, and there he saw before 
 him, his fatlier, officiating in his legal capa- 
 city, and seated upon the old horse-hair set- 
 tee. ' I have found it !' said the boy to 
 himself, as greatly delighted as was Archim- 
 edes when he exclaimed Eureka — 'my fa- 
 ther is a horse-hair justice, and therefore a 
 noun !' 
 
 " Nevertheless, it must be admitted that 
 the world got on remarkably well in spite 
 of this narrowness of the country schools. 
 The elements of an English education were 
 pretty well taught throughout the village 
 seminaries of Connecticut, and I may add, 
 
36S 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 of New England. The teacliers were lieart- 
 ily devoted to their profession : they re- 
 spected tlieir calling, and were respected 
 and encour.aged by the community. They 
 had this merit, that while they attempted 
 but little, that, at least, was thoroughly per- 
 formed. 
 
 "■ As to the country at large, it was a day 
 of quiet, though earnest action : Franklin's 
 spirit was the great ' schoolmaster abroad' — 
 teaching industry, perseverance, frugality, 
 and thrift, as the end and aim of ambition. 
 The education of youth was suited to what was 
 expected of them. With the simple lessons 
 of the country schools, they moved the 
 world immediately around them. Though 
 I can recollect only a single case — that al- 
 ready alluded to of Ezekiel Sanford — in which 
 one of Master Stebbins's scholars attained 
 any degree of literary distinction, still, quite 
 a number of them, with no school learning 
 beyond what he gave them, rose to a certain 
 deajree of eminence. His throe sons obtain- 
 ed situations in New York as accountants, 
 and became distinguished in their career. 
 At one period there were three graduates 
 of his school, wlio were cashiers of banks in 
 that city. My mind adverts now with great 
 satisfaction to several names among the 
 wealthy, honorable, and still active mer- 
 chants of the great metropolis, who were 
 my fellow-students of the Up-town school, 
 and who there began and completed their 
 education." 
 
 To the advantages, such as they were, of 
 the district school, Mr. Goodrich adds an 
 account of his experience on the farm, and 
 his juvenile sports, as well as his early at- 
 tempts at whiltlinrf and other mechanical 
 arts, and adds the following reflections : — 
 
 " Now all these things may seem trifles, 
 yet in a review pf my life, I deem them of 
 some significance. This homely familiarity 
 with tlie more mechanical arts was a mate- 
 rial part of my education ; this communion 
 with nature gave me instructive and impor- 
 tant lessons from nature's open book of 
 knowledge. My technical education, as will 
 be seen hereafter, was extremely narrow and 
 irregular. This defect was at last partially 
 supplied b}^ the commonplace incidents I 
 have mentioned. The teaching, or rather 
 the training of the senses, in the country — 
 ear and eye, foot and hand, by running, leap- 
 ing, climbing over hill and mountain, by oc- 
 casional labor in the garden and on the farm, 
 and by the use of tools — and all this in youth, 
 
 is sowing seed which is repaid largely and 
 readily to the haml of after cultivation, how- 
 ever unskilful it may be. This is not so 
 much because of the amount of knowledge 
 available in after-life, which is thus obtained 
 — though this is not to be despised — as it 
 is that healthful, vigorous, manly habits and 
 associations — physical, moral, and intellec- 
 tual — are thus established and developed. 
 
 " It is a riddle to many people that tlie , 
 emigrants from the country into the city, in 
 all ages, outstrip the natives, and become 
 their masters. The reason is obvious : coun- 
 try education and country life are practical, 
 and invigorating to body and mind, and 
 hence those who arc thus qualified triumph 
 in the race of life. It has always been, it 
 will always be so ; the rustic Goths and 
 Vandals will march in and conquer Rome, 
 in the future, as they have done in the past. 
 I say this, by no means insisting that my 
 own life furnishes any very striking proof 
 of the truth of my remarks; still, I may say 
 that but for the country training and experi- 
 ence I have alluded to, and which served as 
 a foothold for subsequent progress, I should 
 have lingered in my career far behind the 
 humble advances I have actually made. 
 
 " Let me illustrate and verify my meaning 
 by specific examples. In my youth I be- 
 came familiar with every bird common to 
 the country : I knew his call, his song, his 
 hue, his food, his habits ; in short, his natu- 
 ral history. I could detect him by his flight, 
 as far as the eye could reach. I knew all 
 the quadrupeds — wild as well as tame. I 
 was acquainted with almost every tree, shrub, 
 bush, and flower, indigenous to the country ; 
 not botanical!}', but according to popular 
 ideas. I recognized them instanti}-, where- 
 ever I saw them ; I know their forms, 
 hues, leaves, blossoms, and fruit. I could 
 tell their characteristics, their uses, the 
 legends and traditions that belonged to 
 them. All this I learned by familiarity with 
 these objects ; meeting with them in all my 
 walks and rambles, and taking note of them 
 with the emphasis and vigor of early experi- 
 ence and observation. In after days, I have 
 never had time to make natural history a 
 S3'stematic study; yet my knowledge as to 
 these things has constantly accumulated, 
 and that without special effort. When I 
 have travelled in other countries, the birds, 
 the animals, the vegetation, have interested 
 me as well by their resemblances as their 
 difterences, when compared with our own. 
 
PROGRESS or COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 
 
 369 
 
 In looking over the pages of scientific works 
 on natnral liistorj', I have always read with 
 eagerness and intelligence of preparation ; 
 indeed, of vivid and pleasing associations. 
 Every idea I had touching these matters 
 was living and syuipathetio, and beckoned 
 other ideas to it, and these again originated 
 still others. Thus it is that in the race of a 
 busy life, by means of a homely, hearty start 
 at the becjinning, I have, as to these subjects, 
 cosily and naturally supplied, in some hum- 
 ble degree, the defects of my irregular edu- 
 cation, and that too, not by a process of re- 
 pulsive toil, but with a relish superior to all 
 the seductions of romance. I am therefore a 
 believer in the benefits accruing from simple 
 country life and simple country habits, as here 
 illustrated, and am, therefore, on all occasions 
 anxious to recommend them to my friends and 
 countrymen. To city people, I would say, 
 educate your children, at least partially, in the 
 country, so as to imbue them with the love 
 of nature, and that knowledge and training 
 which spring from simple rustic sports, ex- 
 ercises, and employments. To country peo- 
 ple, I would remark, be not envious of the 
 city, for in the general balance of good and 
 evil, you have your full portion of the first, 
 with a diminished share of the last." 
 
 THE IIOMESPlV ERA OF COMMON SCHOOLS. 
 BY HORACE BUSHNELL, D.D. 
 
 " But the schools — we must not pass by 
 these, if we are to form a truthful and suffi- 
 cient picture of the homespun da3's. The 
 schoolmaster did not exactly go round the 
 district to fit out the children's minds with 
 learning, as the shoemaker often did to fit 
 their feet with shoes, or the tailor to mea- 
 sure and cut for their bodies ; but, to come 
 as near it as possible, he boarded round, (a 
 custom not yet gone by,) and the wood for 
 the common fire was supplied in a way 
 equally primitive, viz., by a contribution of 
 loads from the several families, according to 
 their several quantities of childhood. The 
 children were all clothed alike in home- 
 spun ; and the only signs of aristocracy 
 were, that some were clean and some a de- 
 gree less so, some in fine white and striped 
 linen, some in brown tow crash ; and, in 
 particular, as I remember, with a certain 
 feeling of quality I do not like to express, 
 the good fathers of some testified the opin- 
 ion they had of their children, b}' bringing 
 fine round loads of hickor}^ wood to warm 
 them, while some others, I regret to say. 
 
 brought onl_r scanty, scraggy, ill-looking 
 heaps of green oak, white birch, and hem- 
 lock. Indeed, about all the bickerings of 
 quality among the children, centered in the 
 quality of the wood pile. There was no 
 complaint, in those days, of the want of 
 ventilation ; for the large open fire-place 
 held a considerable fraction of a cord of 
 wood, and the windows took in just enough 
 air to supply the combustion. Besides, the 
 bigger lads were occasionally ventilated, by 
 being sent out to cut wood enough to keep 
 the fire in action. The seats were made of 
 the outer slabs from the saw-njill, supported 
 by slant legs driven into and a proper dis- 
 tance through auger holes, and planed 
 smooth on the top by the rather tardy 
 process of friction. But the spelling went 
 on bravely, and we ciphered away again 
 and again, always till we got through Loss 
 and Gain. The more advanced of us, too, 
 made light work of Lindlev JIurrav, and 
 went on to the parsing, finally, tif extracts 
 from Shakspeare and Milton, till some of us 
 began to think we had mastered their tough 
 sentences in a more consequential sense of 
 the term than was exactly true. 0, I re- 
 member (about the remotest thing I can 
 remember) that low seat, too high, never- 
 theless, to allow the feet to touch the floor, 
 and that friendly teacher who had the ad- 
 dress to start a first feeling of enthusiasm 
 and awaken the first sense of power. lie is 
 living still, and whenever I think of him, he 
 rises up to me in the far background of 
 memory, as bright as if he had worn the 
 seven stars in his hair. (I said he is livint; ; 
 yes, he is here to-day, God bless him I) 
 IIow many others of you that are here as- 
 sembled, recall these little primitive univer- 
 sities of homespun, where your mind was 
 born, with a similar feeling of reverence 
 and homely satisfaction. Perhaps you re- 
 member, too, with a pleasure not less genu- 
 ine, that you received the classic discipline 
 of the university proper, under a dress of 
 homespun, to be graduated, at the close, 
 in the joint honors of broadcloth and the 
 parchment." 
 
 We might add other lights and shades to 
 the picture of school life as it was down to a 
 very recent period in New England and New 
 York, but we must refer our readers to that 
 amusing and instructive volume of Rev. AVar- 
 ren Burton, " The District School as it was." 
 We must pass to the clementarv schools of 
 Pennsylvania and the Southern States. 
 
370 
 
 EDUCATIOK AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 LETTER FROM WILLIAM DARLINGTON, M.D., 
 LL.D. 
 
 " At your request, I propose to attempt a 
 brief and hasty sketcli of my acquaintance 
 with, and reminiscences of the Country 
 Schools, and their condition, some sixty-five 
 or sevent}' years since, in the south-eastern 
 corner of the state of Pennsylvania ; more 
 particularly the school at Birmingham, Ches- 
 ter county, where the limited instruction of 
 my youthful days was chiefly acquired. 
 
 " My earliest recollections of the school to 
 which I was sent go back to that trying pe- 
 riod of loose government, rusticity, and 
 scarcity experienced in the interval between 
 the War of Independence and the adoption 
 of the Federal Constit\ition; and if it were 
 given me to wield the pen of Tom Broivn 
 of Riif/by, I might peradventure furnish some 
 graphic details of our rural seminaries of 
 leaniing in those davs of general destitution. 
 But, under present circumstances, I can only 
 offer the imperfect narrative of incidents and 
 observations, as retained in an almost octo- 
 genarian memory. 
 
 "At the time when I was first sent to 
 school — say in 1787-8 — school-houses were 
 rare; and there was little or no organization 
 for their maintenance. The country round, 
 having been recently ravaged by a hostile 
 army, was scantily supplied with teachers, 
 who occasionally obtained schools by going 
 among the priueipnl families of the vicinage, 
 and procuring subscribers for a quarter's tui- 
 tion of the children on hand. Those who 
 were too young to be serviceable on the 
 farm were allowed to go to school in the 
 summer season ; but the larger ones (^cxper- 
 tits loquor) could only be spared for that 
 purpose during winter. The extent of rural 
 instruction was then considered to be prop- 
 erly limited to what a worthy London alder- 
 man designated as the three Ji's, viz., 'Read- 
 ing, Riting, and Rithmetic' To cipher 
 beyond the Rule of Three was deemed a 
 notable achievement and mere surplusage 
 among the average of country scholars. 
 The business of teaching, at that day, was 
 disdainfully regarded as among the hum- 
 blest and most unprofitable of callings ; and 
 the teachers — often low-bred, intemperate 
 adventurers from the old woi'ld — were gen- 
 erally about on a par with the prevalent es- 
 timate of the profession. Whenever a thrift- 
 less vagabond was found to be good for 
 nothing else, he would resort to school-lceep- 
 
 ing, and teaching young American ideas 
 how to shoot ! It was my good fortune, 
 however, to have a teacher who was a dis- 
 tinguished exception to the sorry rule re- 
 ferred to. John Forsvthe was a native of 
 the Emerald Isle, born in 1754, received a 
 good English education at home, and wliile 
 yet a young man, migrated to the county of 
 Chester, in the land of Penn, where he be- 
 came an excellent schoolmaster. When he 
 arrived in our quakerly settlement, lie was a 
 gay young Presbyterian, dressed in the fash- 
 ionable ajiparel of the world's people ; and 
 being withal musical in his taste, was an ex- 
 pert performer on the violin. He soon, how- 
 ever, adopted the views and principles of the 
 ' Friends,' among whom he remained, mar- 
 ried one of the society, and was ever recog- 
 nized as an exemplary and valuable member. 
 
 " As the head and master-spirit of the 
 school, at Birmingham meeting-house, es- 
 tablished under the auspices of the Quaker 
 society, he taught for a number of years, 
 and always applied himself con amore to his 
 arduous duties. lie accomplished more in 
 exciting a taste for knowledge and develop- 
 ing young intellects, than any teacher who 
 had theretofore laboi'ed in that hopeful vine- 
 yard, lie eflectually routed the lingering 
 old superstitions, prejudices, and benighted 
 notions of preceding generations, and over 
 took delight in introducing youthful genius 
 to the bright fields of literatui'c and science. 
 The young men of his day, who have since 
 figured in the world, were deeply iudebted 
 to John Forsytlie for the aid which he af- 
 forded them in their studies, as well as for 
 the sound doctrines which he inculcated ; 
 and some few of them yet sur\ive to make 
 the gratefid acknowledgment. 
 
 " When the noble Quaker institution at 
 West-town was erected, near the close of the 
 last century, the skill and experience of John 
 Forsytlie were put in requisition, until it was 
 fairly inaugurated ; after which he retii-ed to 
 his comfortable farm, in East Bradford, 
 where he passed a venerable old age, until 
 his 87th year, in superintending agricultural 
 employments and in manifesting a lively in- 
 terest in the progress of education among 
 our people. No instructor has labored in 
 this community more faithfully, nor with 
 better eft'ect. None has left a memory more 
 worthy to be kindly cherished. 
 
 " Tlie old school-house at Birmingham was 
 a one story stone building, erected by men 
 who did not understand the subject; and 
 
PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 
 
 371 
 
 was badly lijrlitL'J and ventilated. The dis- 
 cipline of tliat day (adopted from tlie mother 
 country-) was pretty severe. The real birch 
 of the botanists not being indigenous in tlie 
 immediate vieinity of the school, an (^fHeient 
 substitute was found in y^oung apple tree 
 sprouts, as unruly boys were abundantly 
 able to testify. 
 
 "The school books of my earliest recollection 
 •were a cheap English spelling book, the Bi- 
 ble for the reading classes, and when we got 
 to ciphering, the 'Schoolmasters' Assistant.' 
 The '.Spelling Book' and ' Assistant' were 
 by Thnmas l)iKvorth, an Engli>h school- 
 master at Wapping. The 'Assistant' was a 
 useful work, but has long since disappeared. 
 The 'counterfeit presentment' of tlie worthy 
 author faced the title-page, and was famil- 
 iarly known to every schoolboy of my time. 
 The Spelling Book contained a little ele- 
 mentary grammar, in which the English sub- 
 stantives were declined through all the cases 
 (genitive, dative, etc.) of the Latin. But 
 gramma/' was then an unknown study among 
 us. Dilworth's 'Spelling Book,' however, 
 was soon superseded by a greatly improved 
 one, compiled bv John Pierce, a respect- 
 able teacher of Delaware county, Pennsyl- 
 vania. This comprised a tolerable English 
 grammar, for that period, and John Forsytho 
 introduced the stud}- into his school with 
 ranch zeal and earnestness. Intelligent em- 
 ployers were made to comprehend its advan- 
 tages, and weic pleased with the prospect 
 of a hopeful advance in that direction ; but 
 dull boys and illiterate parents could not ap- 
 preciate the benefit. Great boobies often 
 got permission, at home, to evade the study, 
 but they could not get round John Forsythe 
 in that way. They would come into school 
 ■with this promised indulgence, and loudly 
 announce, 'Daddy says I needn't lam r/ram- 
 mar ; it's no use :' when the energetic re- 
 sponse from the desk was, ' I don't care 
 what daddy says. lie knows nothing about 
 it ; and 1 sav thou shalt learn it !' and so 
 some general notion of the subject was im- 
 pressed upon the minds even of the stupid; 
 while many of the brighter youths became 
 excellent grammarians. 
 
 " In this Friendly seminary we were all re- 
 quired to use the plain language in conver- 
 sation, being assured that it was wrong, both 
 morallv and grammatically, to say you to 
 one person. Our teacher contrived a meth- 
 od of his own for mending our cacology, 
 even while at our noonday sports. He pre- 
 
 pared a small piece of board or shingle, 
 which he termed s. paddle ; and whenever a 
 boy was heard uttering bad grannnar, lie 
 had to take the paddle, step a-ide, and re- 
 frain from play, until he detected some other 
 unlucky urchin trespassing upon syntax ; 
 when he was authorized to transfer the 
 badge of interdiction to the last offender, 
 and resume his amusements. It was really 
 curious to observe how critical wo soon be- 
 came, and how mucli improvement was ef- 
 fected b}' this whimsical and simple device. 
 
 "Pierce's 'Spelling Book' kept its position 
 in our school for several years, but was at 
 length superseded, in the grammatical de- 
 partment, by a useful little volume, ])repared 
 by John Comly, of Bucks county, Pennsyl- 
 vania. Lindley Murray And. o\\\iiVi prepared 
 elaborate grammars, which were successively 
 introduced, as our schools improved or cre- 
 ated a demand ; and so rapidly have the 
 bookmaking competitors in that department 
 multiplied that their name is now legion, 
 and the respective value of their woi-ks is 
 know-n only to experts in the art of teach- 
 ing- 
 
 " Excellent works in Reading and Elocution 
 are now so abundant and well known in all 
 our respectable seminaries, that they need 
 not to be here enumerated. One of the best 
 and most popular of those works, some half 
 century or more since, was a volume entitled 
 ' The Art of Speaking,' compiled, I think, 
 by a Mr. Rice, in England. 
 
 " But, as we have now reached the age of 
 academies, normal institutes, and schools for 
 the people, I presume you will gladly forego 
 a further extension of this prosj' narrative, 
 so little calculated to interest a veteran in 
 the great cause of education. I have ever 
 been a sincere friend and advocate of the 
 blessing; but, unfortunately, my acquaint- 
 ance with it has been mainly limited to a 
 humbling consciousness of my deficiencies 
 in the ennobling attainment. 
 
 " Very respectfully, 
 
 " Wm. Darlixgton. 
 "West Chester, Pa., Dec. 21, 1860." 
 
 SCHOOLS IN PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 The following picture of the internal econ- 
 omy of one of the best schools of Phila- 
 delphia, is taken from Watson's " Annals 
 of Philadelphia and Pennsylvania." 
 
 "My fiicetious friend, Lang Syne, has pre- 
 sented a lively picture of the ' schoolmas- 
 
372 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 tcTs' in those days, wlicn ' preceptors,' and 
 ' principals,' and ' professors' were yet un- 
 named. What is now known as ' Friends' 
 Academy,' in Fourth street, was at that time 
 occupied liy four ditferent masters. Tlie 
 best room down-stairs by Robert Proud, 
 Latin master; the one above liim, by Wil- 
 liam Waring, teaclier of astronomy and math- 
 ematics ; the east room, up-stairs, by Jere- 
 miah Paul, and the one below, ' last not 
 least" in our remembrance, by J. l\)dd, and 
 severe he was. The State House clock, be- 
 ing at the time visible from the school pave- 
 ment, gave to the eye full notice when to 
 break off marble and plug top, hastily col- 
 lect the ' stakes,' and bundle in, pell-mell, 
 to the school-room, wdiere, until the arrival 
 of the ' master of scholars,' John Todd, 
 they were busily emploj'ed, every one in 
 finding his place, under the control for the 
 time of a short Irishman, usher, named Jim- 
 my M'Cue. On the enti'anoe of the master, 
 all shuffling of the feet, ' scrouging,' hit- 
 ting of elbows, and whispering disputes, 
 were hastily adjusted, leaving a silence 
 which might be felt, ' not a mouse stir- 
 ring.' He, Todd, dressed after the plainest 
 manner of Friends, but of the richest ma- 
 terial, with looped cocked hat, was at all 
 times remarkably clean and nice in his per- 
 son, a man of about sixty years, square 
 built, and well sustained by bone and mus- 
 cle. 
 
 " After an hour, maybe, of quiet time, 
 every thing going smoothly on — no sound, 
 but from the master's voice, while hearing 
 the one standing near him, a dead calm, 
 when suddenly a brisk slap on the car or 
 face, for something or for nothing, gave 
 ' dreadful note' that an eruption of the 
 lava was now about to take place. Next 
 thing to be seen was ' strap in full play 
 over the head and shoulders of Pilgarlic' 
 The passion of the master ' growing by 
 what it fed on,' and wanting elbow room, 
 the chair would be quickly thrust on one 
 side, wdien, with sudden gripe, he was to be 
 seen dragging his struggling suppliant to 
 the flogging ground, in the centre of the 
 room ; having placed his left foot upon the 
 end of a bench, lie then, w ith a patent jerk, 
 peculiar to himself, would have the boy com- 
 pletely horsed across his knee, with his left 
 elbow on the back of his neck, to keep him 
 securely on. In the hurry of the moment 
 he would bring his long pen with him, 
 griped between his strong teeth (visible the 
 
 while), causing both ends to descend to 
 a parallel with his chin, and adding nuicU 
 to the terror of the scene. His face Wdu'd 
 assume a deep claret color — his little bob of 
 hair would disengage itself, and stand out, 
 each ' particular hair' as it were, ' up ia 
 arms and eager for the fray.' Having his 
 victim thus completely at command, and all 
 useless drapery drawn up to a bunch above 
 the waistband, and the rotundity and the 
 nankeen in the closest affinity possible for 
 them to be, then once more to the ' staring 
 crew' would be exhibited the dextcritv of 
 master and strap. By long practice he had 
 arrived at such pei'fection in the exercise, 
 that, moving in quick time, the fifteen inches 
 of bridle rein [alias strap) would be seen 
 after every cut, elevated to a perpendicular 
 above his head ; from whence it descended 
 like a flail on the stretched nankeen, leav- 
 ing ' on the place beneath' a fiery red 
 streak, at every slash. It was customary 
 with him to address the sufferer at intervals, 
 
 yes, 
 
 as follows: 'Does it hurt?' 'Oh! 
 master ; oh ! don't, master.' ' Then I'll 
 make it hurt thee more. I'll make thy flesh 
 creep — thou shan't want a warming pan to- 
 night. Intolerable being ! Nothing in na- 
 ture is able to prevail upon thee but my 
 strap.' He had one boy named George 
 Fudge, who usually wore leather breeches, 
 with wliich he put strap and its master at 
 defiance. He would never acknowledge 
 pain — he would not 'sing out.' Todd seiz- 
 ed him one day, and having gone through 
 the evolutions of strapping (as useless, in 
 eftect, as if he had been thrashing a flour- 
 bag), almost breathless with rage, lie once 
 more appealed to the feelings of the ' repro- 
 bate,' by saying : ' Does it not hurt T The 
 astonishment of the school and the mas- 
 ter was completed, on hearing him sing 
 out, ' No ! Hurray for leather crackers I' 
 He was thrown off immediately, sprawling 
 on the floor, with the benediction as follows: 
 ' Intolerable being 1 Get out <if my school. 
 Nothing in nature is able to prevail upon 
 thee — not even my strap !' 
 
 "'Twas not 'his love of learning was in 
 fault,' so much as the old British system of 
 introducing learning and discipline into the 
 brains of boys and soldiers by dint of pun- 
 ishment. The system of flogojiiig on all 
 occasions in schools, for something or for 
 nothing, being protected by law, gives free 
 play to the passions of the master, which 
 he, for one, exercksed with great severity. 
 
PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 
 
 373 
 
 The writer has, at this moment, in his mem- 
 ory, a schoohuaster then of this cit}', who, a 
 few years ago, went deliberately out of his 
 school to purchase a cow-skin, with which, 
 on his return, he extinguished his bitter re- 
 venge on a boy who had oftended him. 
 The age of chivalry preferred ignorance in 
 its sons, to having them subjected to the 
 fear of a pedagogue — believing that a boy 
 who had quailed under the eye of the 
 schoolmaster, would never face the enemy 
 with boldness on the field of battle ; which 
 it must be allowed is ' a swing of the pen- 
 dulum' too far the other way. A good 
 writer says : ' We do not harden the wax 
 to receive the impression — wherefore, the 
 teacher seems himself most in need of cor- 
 rection — fur he, unfit to teach, is making 
 them unfit to be taught !' 
 
 " I have been told b}' an aged gentleman, 
 that in the days of his boyhood, sixty-five 
 years ago, when boys and girls were to- 
 gether, it was a common practice to make 
 the boys strip off their jackets, and loose 
 their trowsers' band, preparatory to hoisting 
 them upon a boy's back so as to get his 
 whipping, with only the linen between the 
 flesh and the strap. The girls too — wc 
 pity them — were obliged to take oft" their 
 stays to receive their floggings with equal 
 sensibility. He named one distinguished 
 lady, since, who was so treated among oth- 
 ers, in his school. All the teachers then 
 were from England and Ireland, and brought 
 with tliem the rigorous principles which 
 had before been whipped into themselves at 
 home." 
 
 Robert Corani, in a pamphlet devoted in 
 part to a " Plan for the General Establish- 
 ment of Schools throughout the United 
 States," printed in Wilmington, Delaware, 
 In 1791, characterizes the state of education 
 as follows : " The country schools, through 
 most of the United States, whether we con- 
 sider the buildings, the teachers, or the reg- 
 ulations, arc in every respect completely des- 
 picable, wretched, and contemptible. The 
 buddings are in general sorrv hovels, neither 
 wind-tight nor water-tight ; a few stools 
 serving in the double capacity of bencli and 
 desk, and the old leaves of copy books ma- 
 king a miserable substitute for glass win- 
 dows. The teachers are generally foreign- 
 ers, shamefully deficient in every qualifica- 
 tion necessary to convey instruction to 
 youth, and not seldom addicted to gross 
 
 vices Absolute in his own opinion, and 
 proud of introducing what he calls his Euro- 
 pean method, one calls the first letter of tlie 
 alpliabet, aw. The school is modified upon 
 this plan, and the children who are advanced 
 are beat and cufted to forget the former 
 mode they have been taught, which irritates 
 their minds and retards their progress. The 
 quarter being finished, the children lie idle 
 until another master off'ers, few remaining in 
 one place more than a quarter. AVlien the 
 next schoolmaster is introduced, he calls the 
 first letter «, as in mat; the school under- 
 goes another reform, and is equallv vexed 
 and retarded. At his removal a third is in- 
 troduced, who calls the first letter liay. All 
 these blockheads are equally absolute in 
 their own notions, and will by no means 
 suffer the children to pronounce the letter 
 as they were first taught ; but every three 
 months the school goes through a reform — 
 error succeeds error, and dunce the second 
 reigns like dunce the first. I will venture 
 to pronounce, that however seaport towns, 
 from local circumstances, may have good 
 schools, the country schools will remain in 
 their present state of despicable wretched- 
 ness, unless incorporated with government. 
 * * * The necessity of a reformation in 
 the country schools is too obvious to be in- 
 sisted on ; and the first step to such a re- 
 formation will be by turning private schools 
 into public ones. The schools should be 
 public, for several reasons — 1st. Because, as 
 has been before said, every citizen lias an 
 equal right to subsistence, and ought to have 
 an equal opportunity of acquiring knowl- 
 edge. 2d. Because public schools are 
 easiest maintained, as the burthen falls upon 
 all the citizens. The man who is too 
 squeamish or lazy to get married, contrib- 
 utes to the support of public schools, as 
 well as the man who is burthened with a 
 large family. But private schools are sup- 
 ported only by heads of families, and by those 
 only while they are interested ; for as soon 
 as the children are grown up, their support 
 is withdrawn ; which makes the enqjloy- 
 ment so precarious, that men of ability and 
 merit will not submit to the trifling salaries 
 allowed in most country schools, and which, 
 by their partial support, cannot afford a bet- 
 ter." 
 
 SCHOOL HOLIDAY IN GEORGIA. 
 
 AVe have not been verv successful in gath- 
 ering the printed testimony of the dead, or 
 
374 
 
 EDUCATIOy AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 tlie vivid reminiscences of the living, rcspoct- 
 iuff tlie internal economy of schools, public 
 or family, in any of the Southern states prior 
 to 1800. The following graphic sketch of 
 " the turn out" of the schoolmaster, from 
 Judge Longstreet's " Georgia Scones," is 
 said to be " hterally true :" 
 
 " In the good old days of/esciies, abisself- 
 as and anpersants,* terms which used to be 
 familiar in this country during the Revolu- 
 tionary war, and which lingered in some of 
 our countr}' schools for a few years after- 
 ward, I visited my friend Captain Gritfen, 
 who resided about seven miles to the east- 
 ward of Wrightsborough, then in Richmond, 
 but now in Columbia county. I reached the 
 captain's hospitable home on Easter, and 
 ■was received by him and his good lady with 
 a Georr/ia ivelcomc of 1790. 
 
 " The da}' was consumed in the inter- 
 change of news between the captain and 
 , myself (though, I confess, it might have 
 been better employed), and the night found 
 us seated round a temporal'}- lire, which the 
 captain's sons had kindled up for the pur- 
 pose of dyeing eggs. It was a common cus- 
 tom of those days with boys to dye and 
 peck eggs on Easter Sunday, and for a few 
 days afterward. They were colored accord- 
 inrr to the fancy of the dyer ; some yellow, 
 some green, some purple, and some with a 
 variety of colors, borrowed from a piece of 
 calico. They were not unfrequently beauti- 
 fied with a taste and skill which would have 
 extorted a compliment from Ilezekiah Niles, 
 if ho had seen them a year ago, in the hands 
 of the ' younri operatives,^ in some of the 
 northern manufactories. No sooner was the 
 work of dyeing finished, than our ' young 
 operatives' sallied forth to stake the whole 
 proceeds of their ' domestic industri/ upon 
 a peck. Egg was struck against egg, point 
 to point, and the egg that was broken was 
 
 * TiiQ feicuewa.?, a sharpened wire or other histru- 
 ment nseil by the preceptor to point out tlie letters 
 to the children. 
 
 Abisselfa is a contraction of the words " a by it- 
 self, a." It was usual, when either of the vowels 
 constituted a syllaljle of a word, to pronounce it, 
 and denote its independent character by the words 
 just mentioned, thus : " a by itself, a, c-o-r-n corn, 
 acorn;" "e by itself, e, v-i-l, evit," etc. 
 
 The character which stands for the word " and " 
 (A) was probably prononnced with the same accem- 
 paniment, but in terms borrowed from the L.atin lan- 
 puagc, thus: "Averse" (by itself) and Hence, "an- 
 persant." 
 
 given up as lost to the owner of the one 
 which came whole from the shock. 
 
 " While the boys were busily employed 
 in the manner just mentioned, the captain's 
 youngest son, George, gave us an anecdote 
 highly descriptive of the Yankee and Geor- 
 gia character, oven in their buddings, and 
 at this early date. ' AVhat you think, pa,' 
 said ho, ' Zcph Pottibone went and got his 
 uncle Zach to turn him a wooden egg ; and 
 lie won a whole hatful o' eggs from all us 
 boys 'fore wo found it out ; but, when we 
 found it out, maybe John Brown didn't 
 smoke him for it, and took away all his 
 eggs, and give 'em back to us boys ; and 
 you think lie didn't go then and git a guinea 
 egg, and win most as many more, and John 
 Brown would o' give it to him agin if all we 
 boys hadn't said we thought it was fair. I 
 never see such a boy as that Zcph Pottibone 
 in all my life. He don't mind whipping no 
 more 'an nothing at all, if he can win eggs.' 
 
 " This anecdote, however, only fell in by 
 accident, for there was an all-absorbing sub- 
 ject which occupied the minds of the boys 
 during the whole evening, of which I could 
 occasionally catch distant hints, in under 
 tones and wdiispors, but of which I could 
 make nothing, until they were afterward ex- 
 plained by the captain liimself. Such as 
 'I'll be bound Pete Jones and Bill Smith 
 stretches him.' ' By Jockey, soon as they 
 seize him, you'll see mo down upon him like 
 a duck upon a June-bug.' ' By the time he 
 tijuchcs the ground, he'll think he's got into 
 a hornet's nest,' etc. 
 
 " ' The boys,' said the captain, as they re- 
 tired, ' are going to turn out the schoolmas- 
 ter to-morrow, and you can perceive they 
 think of nothing else. We must go over to 
 the schoolhouso and witness the contest, in 
 order to prevent injury to preceptor or pu- 
 pils ; for, though the master is always, upon 
 such occasions, glad to be turned out, and 
 only struggles long enougli to present his 
 patrons a fair apology for giving the child- 
 ren a holiday, which he desires as much as 
 they do, the boys always conceive a holiday 
 gained by a ' turn out' as tlie sole achieve- 
 ment of their valor ; and in their zeal to dis- 
 tinguish themselves u])on such memorable 
 occasions, they sometimes become too rough, 
 provoke the master to wrath, and a very se- 
 rious conflict ensues. To prevent these con- 
 sequences, to bear witness that the master 
 was forced to yield before he would with- 
 hold a day of his promised labor from his 
 

 PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 
 
 375 
 
 ■inplovcTs, and to act as a mediator between 
 liiii and the boys in settling the articles of 
 jeace, I always attend ; and you must ac- 
 company me to-morrow.' I cheerfully pro- 
 nised to do so. 
 
 " The captain and I rose before the sun, 
 out the boys liad risen and were oft' to the 
 Ichool-house before the dawn. After an ear- 
 ly breakfast, hurried by Mrs. G. for our ac- 
 tomniodation, my host and m)'self took up 
 pur line of march toward the school-house. 
 \Ve reached it about lialf an hour before the 
 11 ister arrived, but not before the boys had 
 . .mplctcd its fortifications. It was a simple 
 '"X pen, about twenty feet square, with a 
 liiorway cut out of the logs, to which was 
 tittcd a rude door, made of clapboards, and 
 wunij on wooden hinges. The roof was 
 ivcreil with clapboards also, and retained 
 n their places by heavy logs placed on them. 
 riic chimney was built of logs, diminishing 
 n size from the ground to the top, and over- 
 ipread inside and out with red clay mortar. 
 The classic hut occupied a lovel}' spot, over- 
 shadowed by majestic hickories, towering 
 Doplars, and strong-armed oaks. The little 
 Dlain on which it stood was terminated, at 
 ;he distance of aliout fifty paces from its 
 loor, by the brow of a hill, which descended 
 •ather abruptly to a noble spring that gush- 
 ':'d jovously forth among the roots of a state- 
 y beech at its foot. 
 
 '• Tlie boys had strongly fortified the school- 
 louse, of which they had taken possession. 
 riie door was barricaded with logs, which I 
 should have supposed w'ould have defied the 
 combined powers of tlie whole school. The 
 shimney, too, was nearly filled with logs of 
 joodlv size ; and these were the only pass- 
 ways to the interior. I concluded, if a turn 
 out was all that was necessary to decide the 
 contest in favor of the boys, they had al- 
 readv gained the victory. They had, how- 
 ever, not as much confidence in their out- 
 works as I had, and therefore had armed 
 ithemselves with long sticks, not for the pur- 
 pose of using them upon the master if the 
 ibattle should come to close quarters, for this 
 was considered unlawful warfare, but for the 
 purpose of guarding their M'orfc from his ap- 
 : preaches, which it was considered perfectly 
 .lawful to protect bv all manner of jabs and 
 punches through the cracks. From the ear- 
 ly assemliling of the girls, it was very ob- 
 vious that they had been let into the con- 
 spiracy, though they took no part in the 
 active operations. They would, however, 
 
 occasionally drop a word of encouragement 
 to the boys, such as ' I wouldn't turn out 
 the master; but if I did turn him out, I'd 
 die before I'd give up.' 
 
 " At length" Mr. Michael St. John, the 
 schoolmaster made his appearance. Though 
 some of the girls liad met him a quarter of 
 a mile from the school-house, and told him 
 all that had happened, he gave signs of sud- 
 den astonishment and indignation when he 
 advanced to the door, and was assailed by a 
 whole platoon of sticks from the cracks : 
 ' Why, what does all this mean ?' said he, 
 as he approaclicd the captain and myself, 
 witli a countenance of two or three varying 
 expressions. 
 
 " ' VVliy,' said the captain, ' the boys have 
 turned you out, Itecause you have refused to 
 give them an Easter holiday.' 
 
 " 'Oh,' returned Michael, 'that's it, is it? 
 Well, Til see whether their parents are to 
 pay me for letting their children play when 
 the)' please.' So saying, he advanced to 
 the school-house, and demanded, in a lofty 
 tone, of its inmates, an unconditional sur- 
 render. 
 
 " ' Well, give us a holiday, then,' said 
 twenty little urchins within, ' and we'll let 
 you in.' 
 
 " ' Open the door of the acadcmi/ — ■ 
 (Michael would allow nobody to call it a 
 school-house) — 'Open the door of the acad- 
 emy this instant,' said Michael, 'or I'll break 
 it down.' 
 
 " ' Break it down,' said Pete Jones and 
 Bill Smith, ' and we'll break you down.' 
 
 " During this colloquy I took a peep into 
 the fortress, to see how the garrison were 
 aft'ected by the parley. The little ones were 
 obviously panic-struck at the first words of 
 command ; but their fears wore all chased 
 away by the bold determined reply of Pete 
 Jones and Bill Smith, and they raised a 
 whoop of defiance. 
 
 " Michael now walked round the academy 
 three times, examining all its weak points 
 with great care. He then paused, reflected 
 for a moment, and wheeled oft' suddenly to- 
 ward the woods, as though a bright thought 
 had just struck him. He passed twenty 
 things which I supposed he might be in 
 quest of, such as huge stones, fence rails, 
 portable logs, and the like, without bestow- 
 ing the least attention upon them. He 
 went to one old log, searched it thoroughly, 
 then to another, tlien to a hollow stump, 
 peeped into it with great care, then to a 
 
376 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 hollow log, into whicli lie looked with equal 
 caution, and so on. 
 
 " ' What is he after ?' inquired I. . 
 
 " ' I'm sure I don't know,' said the cap- 
 tain, ' but the boys do. Don't you notice 
 the breathless silence which prevails in the 
 school-house, and the intense anxiety with 
 which they are eyeing him through the 
 cracks ?' 
 
 " At this moment Michael had reached a 
 little excavation at the root of a dogwood, 
 and was in the act of putting his hand into 
 it, when a voice from the garrison exclaimed, 
 with most touching pathos, ' Lo'd o' messy, 
 he's found my eggs ! boys, let's give up.' 
 
 " ' I won't give up,' was the reply from 
 many voices at once. 
 
 " ' Rot your cowardly skin, Zeph Petti- 
 bone, you wouldn't give a wooden egg for 
 all the holydays in the world.' 
 
 " If these replies did not reconcile Zeph- 
 aniah to his apprehended loss, it at least si- 
 lenced his complaints. In the mean time 
 Michael was enqjloycd in relieving Zeph's 
 storehouse of its provisions ; and, truly, its 
 contents told well for Zeph's skill in egg- 
 pecking. However, Michael took out the 
 efftrs with o-reat care, and brought them 
 within a few paces of the schoolhouse, and 
 laid them down with equal care in full view 
 of the besieged. He revisited the places 
 which he had searched, and to which he 
 seemed to have been led by intuition ; for 
 from nearly all of them did he draw egn's, 
 in greater or less numbers. Tliese he treated 
 as he had done Zeph's, keeping each pile 
 separate. Having arranged the eggs in 
 double files before the door, he marched be- 
 tween them with an air of triumph, and 
 once more demanded a surrender, under 
 pain of an entire destruction of the garri- 
 son's provisions. 
 
 " ' Break 'em just as quick as you please,' 
 said George Griffin ; ' our mothers '11 give 
 us a plenty more, won't thej', pa?' 
 
 " ' I can ans« er for yours, my son,' said 
 the captain ; ' she would rather give up 
 every egg upon the farm than to sec you 
 plav the coward ur traitor to save your prop- 
 erty.' 
 
 " Michael, finding that he could make no im- 
 pression upon the fears tu' the avarice of the 
 boys, determined to carry their fortifications 
 b)' storm. Accordingly he procured a heavy 
 fence-rail, and commenced the assault upon 
 the door. It soon came to pieces, and the 
 upper logs fell out, leaving a space of about 
 
 three feet at the top. Michael boldly en- 
 tered the breach, when, by the articles of 
 war, sticks were thrown aside as no longer 
 lawful weapons. He was resolutely met on 
 the half-demolished rampart by Peter Jones 
 and William Smith, supported by James 
 Griffin. These were the three largest boys 
 in the school ; the first al>out sixteen years 
 of age, the second about fifteen, and the 
 third just eleven. Twice was Michael re- 
 pulsed by these young champions ; but the 
 third eft'ort carried him fairly into the fortr 
 rcss. Hostilities now ceased for a while, 
 and the captain and I, having levelled the 
 remaining logs at the door, followed Michael 
 into the house. A large three inch plank 
 (if it deserve that name, for it was wrought 
 from the half of a tree's trunk entirely with 
 the axe), attached to the logs by means of 
 wooden pins, served the whole school for a 
 writing desk. At a convenient di.stanec be- 
 low it, and on a line with it, stretched a 
 smooth log, resting upon the logs of the 
 house, which answered for the writers' scat. 
 Michael took his seat upon the desk, placed 
 his feet on the scat, and was sitting very 
 composedly, when with a simultaneous move- 
 ment, Pete and Bill seized each a leg, and 
 marched oft" with it in quick time. The 
 consequence is obvious; Michael's head first 
 took the desk, then the seat, and finally the 
 grountl (for the house was not floored), with 
 three sonorous thumps of most doleful por- 
 tent. No sooner did he touch the ground 
 than he was completely buried with boys. 
 The three elder laid themselves across liis 
 head, neck and breast, the rest arranging 
 themselves ad libitum. Michael's equanim- 
 ity was considerably disturbed by the first 
 thump, became restive with the second, and 
 took flight with the third. His first ett'ort 
 was to disengage his legs, for without them 
 he could not rise, and to lie in his pres- 
 ent position was extremely inconvenient and 
 undignified. Accordingly he drew up his 
 right, and kicked at random. This move- 
 ment laid out about six in various direc- 
 tions upon the floor. Two rose crying: 
 'Ding his old red-headed skin,' said one 
 of them, ' to go and kick me right in 
 mv sore belly, where I fell down and raked 
 it, running after that fellow that cried "school 
 butter." '* 
 
 * " I have never been able to satisfy myseir clearly 
 as to the literal meauing of these terms. They were 
 
PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 
 
 37r 
 
 " ' Drot his old snaggle-tooth picture,' said 
 ;he other, 'to go and hurt my sore toe, where 
 I knocked the nail otF going to the spring to 
 Fetch a gourd of tvarter for him, and not for 
 toysclf n'other.' 
 
 " ' Hut !' said Captain Griffin, ' young 
 Washingtons mind these trifles ! At him 
 igain.' 
 
 " The name of Washington cured their 
 wounds and dried up their tears in an in- 
 stant, and they legged him de novo. The 
 lleft leg treated six more as unceremoniously 
 las the right had those just mentioned ; but 
 ithe talisnianic name had just fallen upon 
 jtheir ears before the kick, so they were in- 
 jvulnerable. They therefore returne<l to the 
 :attack without loss of time. The struggle 
 seemed to wax hotter and hotter for some 
 time after Michael came to the ground, and 
 he threw the children about in all directions 
 and postures, giving some of them thrusts 
 ; which would have placed the rufflc-shirtcd 
 j little darlings of the present day under the 
 I discipline of paregoric and opodeldoc for a 
 week ; but these hardy sons of the south 
 seemed not to feel them. As Michael's head 
 grew easy, his limbs, by a natural sympathy, 
 became more quiet, and he offered one day's 
 holiday as the price. The boys demanded 
 a week ; but here the captain interposed, and 
 after the common but often unjust custom 
 of arbitrators, split the difference. In this 
 instance the tei'ins were equitable enough, 
 and were immodiatcly acceded to by both 
 parties. Michael rose in a good humor, and 
 the boys were of course. Loud was their 
 talking of their deeds of valor as they re- 
 tired. One little fellow about seven years 
 old, and about three feet and a half high, 
 jumped up, cracked his feet together, and 
 exclaimed, 'By jingo, Pete Jones, Bill 
 Smith and me can hold any Sinjin [St. John] 
 that ever trod Georgy-grit.' " 
 
 considered an unpardonable insult to a country 
 scliool, and always justified an attack by the whole 
 fraternity upon the person who used them in their 
 hearing. I have known the scholars pursue a trav- 
 eller two miles to be revenged of the insult. Prob- 
 ably they are a corruption of ' The school's better.' 
 ' &Uer' was the term commonly used of old to de- 
 note a superior, as it sometimes is in our day: 
 'Wait till your betters are served,' for example. I 
 conjecture, therefore, the expression just alluded to 
 was one of challenge, contempt, and defiance, by 
 whicli the person who used it avowed himself the 
 superior in all respects of the whole school, from the 
 preceptor down. If any one can give a better ac- 
 count of it, I shall be pleased to receive it." 
 
 AN OLD FIELD SCHOOL, OR ACADEMY, IN 
 VIRGINIA. 
 
 The experience of one of that class of 
 teachers, who found temporary occupation 
 in teaching the children of one or more fam- 
 ilies of planters in Virginia and other .south- 
 ern states, will be found in the " Travels of 
 Four Years and a Half in the United States 
 (in 1798, 1799, 1800, 1801 and 1802), by 
 John Davis." Mr. Davis was an English- 
 man of more than ordinary education and 
 of social address, and while in this country 
 numbered among his friends such men as 
 Aaron Burr, President Jefferson, and other 
 men of high political standing. Ho was a 
 pri\-ate tutor in New York, South Carolina 
 and Virginia, and his graphic sketches of 
 men and manners show some of the defi- 
 ciencies iu the means of educaticm which 
 even wealthy planters in the southern states 
 experienced. With letters of introduction 
 from President Jefferson he proceeds to the 
 plantation of a Mr. Ball, and is engaged to 
 teach his and his neighbors' children : 
 
 " The following day every farmer came 
 from the neighborhood to the house, who 
 had any children to send to my Academy, 
 for such they did me the honor to term the 
 log-hut in which I was to teach. Each man 
 iu'ought his son, or his daughter, and re- 
 joiced that the day was arrived wlicn their 
 little ones could light their tapers at the 
 torch of knowledge ! I was confounded at 
 the encomiums they heaped upon a man 
 whom they had never seen before, and was 
 at a loss what construction to put upon 
 their speech. No price was too great for 
 the services I was to render their children ; 
 and they all expressed an eagerness to ex- 
 change perishable coin for lasting knowl- 
 edge. If I would continue with them seven 
 years ! only seven years ! they would ereet 
 for me a brick seminary on a hill not far off; 
 but for the present I was to occupy a log- 
 house, which, however homely, would soon 
 vie with the sublime college of William and 
 Mary, and consign to oblivion the renowned 
 acaclemy in the vicinity of Fauquier Court- 
 House. I thought Englishmen sanguine ; 
 but these Virginians were infatuated. 
 
 " I now opened what some called an acad- 
 emy,* and others an Old Field School ; 
 
 * " It is worth the while to describe the academy 
 I occupied on Mr. Ball's plantation. It had one 
 room and a half. It stood on blocks about two feet 
 
SIS' 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 and, however it may be thought that con- 
 tent was never felt within the walls of a 
 seminary, I, for my part, experienced an ex- 
 empti(.)n from care, and was not such a focjl 
 as to measure the happiness of my condition 
 by what others thouirht of it. 
 
 " It was pleas\irablc to behold ni}' pupils 
 enter the school over which I presided ; for 
 they were not composed only of truant boys, 
 but some of the tiiirest damsels in the coun- 
 try. Two sisters generally rode on one 
 horse to the school-door, and I was not so 
 great a pedagogue as to refuse them my as- 
 sistance to dismount from their steeds. A 
 running-footman of the negro tribe, who 
 followed with their food in a basket, took 
 care of tlie beast ; and after being saluted 
 by the young ladies with the courtesies of 
 the morning, I proceeded to instruct them, 
 with gentle exhortations to diligence of 
 study. 
 
 " Common books were only designed for 
 common minds. The unconnected lessons 
 of Scot, the tasteless selections nf Bingham, 
 the florid liarangues of Noah Webster, and 
 the somniferous compilation of Alexander, 
 were either thrown aside, or suffered to 
 gather dust on the shelf; while the charm- 
 ing essays of Goldsmith, and his not less 
 delectable Novel, together with the impres- 
 sive work of Defoe, and the mild produc- 
 tions of Addison, conspired to enchant the 
 fancy, and kindle a love of reading. The 
 thoughts of these writers became engrafted 
 on the minds, and the combiuations of their 
 diction on the languao'c of the pupils. 
 
 " Of the boys I cannot speak in very en- 
 comiastic terms; but they were perhaps like 
 all other school-boys, that is, more disposed 
 to play truant than enlighten their minds. 
 
 and a half above tlie ground, where there was free 
 access to the hogs, the dogs, and the poultry. It 
 had no ceiling, nor was the roof lathed or plaster- 
 ed, but covered with sliiugles. Hence, when it 
 rained, like tlie nephew of old Elwes, I moved my 
 bed (for I slept in my academy) to the most com- 
 fortable corner. It had one window, but no glass, 
 nor shutter. In the night, to remedy this, the mu- 
 latto wench who waited on me, contrived very in- 
 geniously to i>lace a square board against tlie win- 
 dow with one hand, and fix the rail of a broken 
 down fence .against it with the other In the morn- 
 ing, when I returned from breakfasting in tlio 
 'great big house,' (my scholars being oolleetod,) I 
 gave the rail a forcible kick with my foot, and down 
 tumliled the lioard witli an awful roar. 'Is not my 
 window,' said I to Virginia, ' of a very curious con- 
 struction?' 'Indeed, indeed, .sir,' replied my fair 
 disciple, 'I think it is a mighty noisy one.' " 
 
 The most important knowledge to an Amer- 
 ican, after that of himself, is the geography 
 of his country. I, therefore, put into the 
 hands of my boys a proper book, and ini- 
 tiated them by an attentive reading of the 
 discoveries of the Genoese ; I was even so 
 minute as to impress on their minds the 
 man who first descried land on board the 
 ship of Columbus. That man was Roderic 
 Triana, and on my exercising the nu'niory 
 of a boy by asking him the name, he very 
 gravely made answer, Roderic Random. 
 
 " Among my male students was a New 
 Jersey gentleman of thirty, whose object 
 was to be initiated in tlie language of Cicero 
 and Virgil. He had before studied the 
 Latin grammar at an academy school (I use 
 his own words) in his native state ; but the 
 academy school being burnt down, his gram- 
 mar, alas ! was lost in the conflagration, 
 and he had neglected the pursuit of litera- 
 ture since the destruction of his book. 
 When I asked him if he did not think it 
 was some <T<ith who had set tire to his acad- 
 emy school, he made answer, ' So, it is like 
 enough.' 
 
 " iMr. Dye did not study Latin to refine 
 his taste, direct liis judgment, or enlarge his 
 imagination ; but merely that he might bo 
 enabled to teach it when he opened school, 
 which was his serious design. He had been 
 bred a carpenter, but he panted for the hon- 
 ors of literature.'' 
 
 Mr. Davis accounts for his fidelity in 
 teaching more houi's than he was rccpured 
 to do by his contract, by his interest in the 
 lessons of one of his female pupils : 
 
 " Hence I fi-cipiently protracted the stud- 
 ies of the children till one, or half past one 
 o'clock ; a practice that did not fail to call 
 forth the exclamations both of the white 
 and the black people. LTpon my word, Mr. 
 Ball would s.ay, this gentleman is diligent ; 
 and Aunt Patty the negro cook would re- 
 mark, ' He good cool-mossa that ; he not 
 like old Ilodgkiuson and old Harris, who 
 let the boys out before twelve. He deserve 
 good wages i" 
 
 " Having sent the 3'oung ladies to the 
 family mansion, I told the boys to break 
 up, and in a few minutes they who had 
 even breathed with circumspection, now 
 gave loose to the most riotous Tucriinicnt, 
 and betook themselves to the woods, follow- 
 ed by all the dogs on the plantation." 
 
 " There w.as a carpenter on the planta- 
 tion, wdiom Mr. Ball had hired by the year. 
 
PROGRESS OF COMMON OR KLKMENTART SCHOOLS. 
 
 379 
 
 He bad tools of all kinds, and the recreation 
 of Mr. l>ye, after the labor of study, was to 
 get under the shade of au oak, and make 
 tables, or benches, or stools for the acade- 
 my. So true is the assertion of Horace, 
 that the cask will always retain the flavor 
 of the liquor with which it is first impreg- 
 nated. 
 
 " ' Well, Mr. Dye, what are you doing ?' 
 
 " ' I am making a table for the academy 
 school.' 
 
 '" What wood is that?' 
 
 " ' It is white oak, sir.' 
 
 " ' What, then you are skilled in trees, yon 
 can tell oak from hickory, and ash from tir V 
 
 " ' Like enough, sir. (A broad grin.) I 
 ought to know those things ; I served my 
 time to it.' 
 
 " ' Carpenter. — I find, sir, Mr. Dye lias done 
 with his old trade ; he is above employing 
 his hands ; he wants work for the brain. 
 Well ! larning is a fine thing ; there's noth- 
 ing like larning. I have a son only five 
 years old, that, with proper larning, I should 
 not despair of seeing a member of Congress. 
 He is a boy of genus ; he could play on the 
 .lews-harp from only seeing Sambo tune it 
 once.' 
 
 " * Mr. Dije. — I guess that's Billy ; he is a 
 right clever child.' 
 
 " ' Carpenter. — How long, sir, will it take 
 you to learn Mr. Dye Latin V 
 
 " ' Sclioolmnster. — How long, sir, would it 
 take me to ride from Jlr. Ball's jjlantation 
 to the plantation of Mr. Wormley Carter?' 
 
 " ' Carpenter. — Why that, sir, I suppose, 
 would depend upon your horse.' 
 
 " ' Schoolmaster. — Well, then, sir, 3'ou 
 solve your own interrogation. But here 
 comes Dick. What has he got in his hand?' 
 
 " ' Mr. Dye. — A mole like enough. Who 
 are you bringing that to, Dick V 
 
 " ' Dick. — Not to you. You never gave 
 me the taste of a dram since I first know'd 
 you. Worse luck to me; you New Jorsc}' 
 men are close sha\-ers ; I believe you would 
 skin a louse. This is a mole. I have 
 brought it for the gentleman who came from 
 beyond sea. He never refuses Dick a dram; 
 I would walk through the wilderness of Ken- 
 tucky to serve him. Lord! how quiet he 
 keeps his school. It is not now as it was ; 
 the boys don't go clack, clack, clack, like 
 'Squire Pendleton's mill upon Catharpin 
 Run !' 
 
 " ' Schoolmaster. — You have brought that 
 mole, Dick, for me.' 
 
 " ' Dick. — Yes, master, but first let me tell 
 you the history of it. This mole was once 
 a man ; see, master (Dick exhibits the mole), 
 it has got hands and feet just like you and 
 me. It was once a man, but so proud, so 
 lofty, so pufl'ed-up, that God, to punish his 
 insolence, condemned him to crawl under 
 the earth.' 
 
 " ' Schoolmaster. — A good fable, and not 
 unhap])ily moralized. Did you ever hear or 
 read of this before, Mr. Dye ?' 
 
 " ' Mr. Dye. — Nay (a broad grin), I am 
 riglit certain it does not belong to ..Esop. 
 I am certain snre Dick did not find it there.' 
 
 "'j9/cX\ — Find it where? I would not 
 w-rong a man of the value of a gram of corn. 
 I came across the mole as I was hoeing the 
 potato-patch. Master, shall I take it to the 
 school-house ? If you are fond of birds, I 
 know now for a mocking-bird's nest ; I am 
 only afeared those young rogues, the school- 
 boys, will find out the tree. They j)lay the 
 mischief with every thing, they be full of 
 devilment. I saw Jack Lockliart throw a 
 stone at the old bird, as she was returning 
 to feed her young; and if I had not coaxed 
 him away to look at my young puppies, he 
 would have found out the nest.' 
 
 " I had been three months invested in 
 the first executive office of pedagogue, 
 when a cunning old fox of a New Jersey 
 planter (a Mr. Lee) discovered that his eld- 
 est boy wrote a better hand than I. Fame 
 is swift-footed ; vires acquirit (undo ; the 
 discoveiy spread far and wide ; and whither- 
 soever I went, I was an object for the hand 
 of scorn to point his slow unmoving finger 
 at, as a schoolmaster that could not write. 
 Virginia gave me for the persecutions I 
 underwent a world of sighs, her swelling 
 heavens rose and fell with indignation at old 
 Lee and his abettors. But the boys caught 
 spirit from the discovery. I could perceive 
 a mutiny breaking out among them ; and 
 had I not in time broke down a few branches 
 from an apple tree before my door, it is 
 probable they would have displayed their 
 gratitude for my instructions by throwing 
 me out of raj- school-window. But by argu- 
 ing with one over the shoulders, and another 
 over the back, I maintained with dignity the 
 first executive office of pedagogue. 
 
 " I revenged myself amply on old Lee. 
 It was the custom of his son (a lengthy fel- 
 low of about twenty) to come to the acade- 
 my with a couple of huge mastift's at his 
 heels. Attached to their master [par nobile 
 
380 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATION U, INSTITUTION'S. 
 
 fratrum) they entered without ccfcmony 
 Polioke Aoademy, bringing with them inyr- 
 iad-i of fleas, wood-hoe, and ticks. Xay, 
 they would often annoy Virginia, by throw- 
 ing themselves at her feet, and inflaming the 
 choler of a little lap-dog, which I had bought 
 because of his diminutive size, and which 
 Virginia delighted to nurse for me. I could 
 perceive the eye of Virginia rebuke me for 
 suffering the dogs to annoy her; and there 
 lay more peril in her eye than in the jaws 
 of all the mastiffs in Prince William (!ounty. 
 
 " ' jMr. Lee,' said I, ' this is the third time 
 I have told you not to convert the academy 
 into a kennel, and bring your dogs to school.' 
 Lee was mending liis pen 'judgmatically.' 
 He made no reply, but smiled. 
 
 " I knew old Dick the negro had a bitch, 
 and that his bitch was proud. I walked 
 down to Dick's log-house. Dick was beat- 
 ing flax. 
 
 " ' Dick,' said I, ' old Farmer Lee has 
 done me much evil — (I don't like the old 
 man myself, master, said Dick) — and Lis 
 son, repugnant to my express commands, 
 has brought his father's two plantation dogs 
 to the academv. Revenge is sweet — ' 
 
 " ' Right, master,' said Dick. ' I never 
 felt so happy as when I bit oft' Cuft'ey's 
 great toe and swallowed it — 
 
 " ' Do you, Dick,' said I, ' walk past the 
 school-house with your bitch. Lee's dogs 
 will come out after her. Go round with 
 them to your log-house; and when you have 
 once secured them, hang both of them up by 
 the neck.' 
 
 " ' Leave it to me, master,' said Dick. 
 'I'll fix the business for you in a few min- 
 utes. I have a few fadoms of rope in my 
 house — that will do it.' 
 
 " I returned to the academy. The dogs 
 ■were stretched at their ease on the floor. 
 ' Oh ! I am glad you are come,' exclaimed 
 Virginia ; ' those great big dogs have quite 
 scared me.' 
 
 " In a few minutes Dick passed the door 
 with his slut. Quick from the floor rose 
 Mr. Lee's two dogs, and followed the female. 
 The rest may be supplied by the imagina- 
 tion of the reader. Dick hung up both 
 the dogs to the branch of a pine-tree ; old 
 Lee lost the guards to his plantation ; the 
 negroes broke open his barn, pilfered his 
 sacks of Indian corn, rode his horses in the 
 night — and thus was I revenged on Alexan- 
 der the coppersmith. 
 
 " Three months had now clajised, and I 
 
 was commanded officially to re-ign mv mi\(>- 
 reign authority to Mr. Dye. who was in 
 every respect better ijualilied to di-ii-h;iii;y 
 its sacred functions. He understood t;uo 
 and tret, wrote a copper-plate hand, and, 
 balancing himself upon one leg, could flour- 
 ish angels and corkscrews. I, therefore, 
 gave up the ' academy school' to Mr. Dye, 
 to the joy of the boys, but the sorrow of 
 Virginia." 
 
 Whilst schools were thus poorly equipped 
 and the instruction given was thus defective 
 in its methods and meagre in its extent, it 
 becomes of interest to inq\iire whence such 
 a measure of general intelligence and so 
 many individual cases of attaining to an emi- 
 nent position in society. This was the re- 
 sult of no single cause alone, but of a variety 
 in combination. 
 
 The first of these that may be named, both 
 in its influence upon childhood and upon 
 manhood, was the necessity of a hard fought 
 battle for existence, but relieved by the as- 
 surance that victory would be the reward of 
 persistent exertion. Its results were robust- 
 ness, patience of toil, resoluteness and per- 
 severance in encountering difliculties, and 
 fertility of resources. The rustic lad, — and 
 making the necessary variations, we include 
 the female sex with the representative male, 
 — the rustic lad who had been trained to 
 help his parents from the moment he had 
 acquired .strength to steady his steps, to toil 
 on all the same whether the bright sun 
 cheered him or the chill air benumbed his 
 limbs ; whether his tasks were varied, pleas- 
 ant aiid light, or, on the contrary, he had 
 learned patience, inarching beside the jiaticnt 
 ox all the long hours of a long s]M'ing day, 
 the animals only alternating with othci's 
 which served as relays ; and had been no 
 stranger to such discipline as picking stones 
 in the stubble whilst the sad heavens distil- 
 led a drizzly rain, they condensing all their 
 gloom in his soul, but withheld those large 
 and frequent drops wdiich would have been 
 the sign.al of his release ; and among the 
 least severe of whose lessons in acquiring 
 hardihood had been, in gathering the fruits 
 of autumn, to face its frosts without mittens 
 or .shoos ; this lad f)und nothing in tlie difli- 
 culties of the school-room to appall him, and 
 storms and deep drifts rather added zest to 
 his dailv walks. Xo unintelligible jargon of 
 the spelling book, no abstruse section in his 
 reader, was an overmatch for his industry. 
 
NTERIOR VIEW OF A SCHOOL-HOfSK I.V 1S70. 
 
1 
 
 [ 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 ■ •.,■ V: 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 
 
 381 
 
 ;True, he did not understand all he studied, 
 but he learned to spell and to read and to 
 cotiiinit to memory what was assigned him. 
 lAnd when he took his arithmetic, which con- 
 tained only definitions, rules and examples, 
 lalthoiigh his teacher vouchsafed him little 
 jexplaiiation, he had perseverance enough to 
 iponder every dark process till light broke 
 through. And there were instances of boys 
 who worked for consecutive hours and days 
 at problems confessedly some of the most 
 knotty that could be found, till at last their 
 unaided exertions were rewarded with suc- 
 cess, which brought more exquisite joy than 
 ever thrilled the finder of a rare gem. These 
 exceptional cases stimulated the more dull, 
 and most became possessed of at least the 
 rudiments of the science, quite sufficient for 
 practical life, or which under the stimulus of 
 necessity became subsequently enlarged to 
 that extent. In manhood no blind adherence 
 to traditional methods was or could be ob- 
 served. Emergencies were constantly arising 
 which taxed ingenuity to the utmost in de- 
 vising the fitting expedients to meet them. 
 It was a daily study to make the narrowest 
 means serve the same ends as the amplest. 
 Hard thought was expended without stint 
 upon labor-saving processes, improvements 
 and inventions. Thus was gained a disci- 
 pline of mind beyond what the higher col- 
 lege mathematics usually imparts, and oft- 
 times a readiness in applying mechani- 
 cal principles, of which many an engineer 
 trained in tlie schools is utterly devoid, how- 
 ever prompt he may be in the routine to 
 which he is accustomed. 
 
 The family training, aside from the inuring 
 of children to patient industry, contributed 
 greatly to their profiting from their school 
 privileges. To do or not to do was not then 
 left so generally to the child's pleasure. He 
 was made to obey before he had experienced 
 the delight of carrying into effect his own 
 will in opposition to that of others; and 
 thus was formed the habit of unquestioning 
 compliance with the requirements of parents. 
 When the child could understand the sub- 
 ject, he was tauglit that however irksome at 
 times were the tasks imposed upon him, it 
 was only in virtue of the allotment that man 
 was to cat bread by the sweat of his brow, 
 and that only by a cheerful performance of 
 what was within his power could he make a 
 return for the care he was continually re- 
 ceiving. Thus from a sense of religious and 
 filial obligation the rigor of their early disci- 
 23* 
 
 pline was the more easily sustained. Self- 
 control and a certain measure of self-reliance 
 were results of the discipline of infancy 
 even ; and in advancing childhood it was in- 
 culcated in the house and in the field, that 
 each must depend upon himself for what- 
 ever he was to lie and to possess in life. 
 And knowledge, knowledge that was not the 
 mere blind recipient of instruction, intelli- 
 gent knowledge which perceived relations, 
 and reasoning knowledge which could make 
 the practical application as opportunity 
 served, was set forth as the condition indis- 
 pensable to render exertion successful. Hence 
 it was a prized privilege to go to school, as 
 well as a pleasant exchange for physical toil 
 for a brief period, an exchange of work at 
 home for another \'ariety of work in the 
 school-room, not of one manner of busy idle- 
 ness and mischief for another. Also in many 
 cases the home was itself a school, and either 
 that knowledge was thei'e gained which oth- 
 ers acquired at school, or study was further 
 pursued under the guidance of parent, or 
 brother or sister, who by some happy gift 
 of Providence had required little tuition. 
 Often also, winter evenings or other hours, 
 when the labor of one pair of hands might 
 be spared, were passed in the social reading 
 of instructive books. 
 
 The listening every seventh day to two 
 di^courses, wherein were discussed the deep- 
 est theories which can be proposed to man, 
 may be named as an additional item in the 
 answer to our inquir3'. The clei'gymen of 
 that day liad received the best education 
 that the country afforded, and were daily 
 cultivating intimacy with the profoundest 
 theologians. Thus they had ever thoughts 
 which they had originated or had made their 
 own to present. And these thoughts were 
 inwardly digested by a goodly number of 
 their hearers, and becoming a part of their 
 being, they too 
 
 "reasoned high 
 Of Providence, foreknowledge, will and fate, 
 Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute;" 
 
 and if they " found no end," they were not 
 " in wandering mazes lost," for, unlike the 
 lost angels, they ruled their discussions by 
 the inftillible word of inspiration. It cannot 
 be said that sericjus thought then bored, or 
 that the sparkle of the unsubstantial poem 
 chiefly drew, or tliat triviality was the char- 
 acteristic of the multitude. 
 
 The study of one book, and that the Bible, 
 simple enough in parts to meet the under- 
 
382 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 standing of the little child, and of interest 
 enough to absorb his attention, and in other 
 parts of depths which no finite intellect can 
 sound, and everywliere vise above the wis- 
 dom of men, and witliout any alloy of error, 
 was one of the most efficacious means of 
 raising tlie mass of the people in intelligence, 
 and in educating a few, who made it their 
 constant meditation, to a nicety of discrimi- 
 nation and a profundity of thought truly 
 wonderful. Take as an example one silvery 
 haired man whoso memory is cherished with 
 veneration. His school privileges had been 
 less even than the scanty amount of most 
 of his contemporaries, hardly amounting to 
 thiee winter schools in all. Moreover, weak- 
 ness of the eyes almost cut him off from 
 reading books and papers throughout his 
 life. But he was able to read daily a few 
 verses, sometimes several chapters, in his 
 large quarto Bible, and when he read aloud, 
 all untaught as he was, he read with a natu- 
 ralness and gave the sense, so that the hearer 
 marvelled. Comparing scripture with scrip- 
 ture, he had attained to a skill in interpret- 
 ing which seldom erred. Ilis quickness in 
 detecting a fallacy or in observing a doc- 
 trine which harmonized not with the living 
 oracles was surpassed by very few of even 
 the most highly educated of schoolmen, lie 
 was cxceedinglv retiring, but to the few who 
 knew him, his life and his language seemed 
 as correct as the words of that book on 
 which both, with perfect naturalness, with- 
 out any tinge of formality or quaintness, were 
 modeled. Who will venture to say that this 
 man's education was not incomparably supe- 
 rior to that of him who has delved a whole 
 life in conflicting systems, who has sought 
 to know the thoughts of all reported as 
 great, but who has settled nothing for him- 
 self? 
 
 The political principles which found their 
 expression in the declaration of independ- 
 ence, and which were a cherished inheri- 
 tance from the fathers, loading to a general 
 participation in the government of the coun- 
 try, and producing the habit of earnestly 
 debating every question of public concern, 
 had no small share of influence in exciting 
 intensity and energy of mental action. By 
 the fireside, in the field, at the corners of the 
 streets, in the shops and stores, those pow- 
 ers were developed which had further exer- 
 cise in the town meeting, and carried their 
 possessor to some humble position of trust 
 or authority ; and when here trained and 
 
 shown to be capable of sustaining higher 
 responsibilities, advanced him again, so that 
 he who had forged iron chains, was chosen 
 to fashion the more eflicacious restraints of 
 laws; he who had occupied the cobbler's 
 seat, was promoted to the bench of justice; 
 and he who had been wont to rule oxen was 
 thought worthy to govern men. 
 
 The newspaper, and the family, and the 
 village library contributed largely to the 
 general intelligence. The weekly paper fur- 
 nished no small part of the topics of conver- 
 sation in the family and among neighbors, 
 and, in particular, supplied the pabulum for 
 political discussions. The few books owned 
 or borrowed were carefully read again and 
 again. The small proprietary libraries fur- 
 nislied some of the most valuable histories 
 and the choicest works in belles-lettres. It 
 was not of rare occurrence to find persons 
 who showed familiarity with Rollin, Fergu- 
 son, Gibbon, Robertson, and Hume ; and 
 sometimes one might oven be met, who 
 could give an orderly account of an entire 
 work of these authors ; and there wore many 
 who could repeat favorite ]>oems, perad ven- 
 ture even the entire Night Thoughls of Dr. 
 Young, if that was the chosen vade niecum. 
 Even some children of twelve or fifteen years 
 of age, — barefoot boys who had only " noon- 
 ings" and the time they might gain by man- 
 ual dexterity in accomplishing their " stents," 
 — had perused several of the voluminous 
 historians named above. How will such 
 lads compare in mental strength and \igor 
 with children who willingly read nothing but 
 the most exciting tales or the most intellec- 
 tual pap made toothsome ? 
 
 The obsorvaticm of men and of nature, 
 pursued to good advantage where no un- 
 bending usages restrained free development 
 of character, no wrappings of conventionali- 
 ties gave a unifonn semblance to all, where 
 the woods and the waters and the inhabi- 
 tants thereof had only begun to recognize 
 the dominion of man, quickened too by 
 the necessity of turning to account every 
 item of knowledge that could be gained, was 
 an ample equivalent for the more compre- 
 hensive speculations of mental philosophy 
 and the scientific nomenclatures and descrip- 
 tions of natural history to be learned from 
 the mouth of the lecturer. 
 
 Finally, those defective schools of the past 
 generatiim did place the key of knowledge 
 in the hands of the inquisitive ; which is 
 nearly all that the schools of the present day 
 
PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 
 
 383 
 
 accomplish, or at least is their most \'ahiable 
 result. With reading, writing, and the ele- 
 ments of arithmetic, and the stimulus of 
 necessity and emulation, and perhaps reli- 
 gious principle added, he who felt any of the 
 inspiration of genius, or who became con- 
 scious of a talent that had been improved, 
 might advance with a speedier flight or a 
 slower and more toilsome step up the steep 
 ascent to the temple of knowledge, and sit 
 a crowned king on one of her numberless 
 thrones. Books procured and mastered one 
 at a time, moments of leisure seized and im- 
 proved, oneness of aim and unfaltering per- 
 severance, wrought the result. 
 
 It is a plain inference that school educa- 
 tion, as the correlate of the professional 
 teacher's labors, usually receives credit to 
 which it is not entitled. As we have else- 
 where remarked, with all the agencies for 
 the education and improvement of teachers, 
 the public schools of Europe, with their in- 
 stitutions of government and society, do 
 not turn out such practical and eflScient 
 men as our own common schools, acting in 
 concert with our religious, social and politi- 
 cal institutions. A boy educated in a dis- 
 trict school of New England, taught for a 
 few months in the winter, by a rough, half- 
 educated, but live teacher, who is earning 
 his way by his winter's work in the school- 
 room out of the profession into something 
 which will pay better, and in the summer 
 by a young female, just out of the eldest 
 class of the winter school, and with no other 
 knowledge of teaching than what she may 
 have gathered by observation of the diverse 
 practices of some ten or twelve instructors 
 who must have taught the school under the 
 intermittent and itinerating system which 
 prevails universally in the country districts 
 of New England — a boy thus taught through 
 his school-life, but subjected at home and 
 abroad to the stirring influences of a free 
 press, of town and school district meetings, 
 of constant intercourse with those who are 
 mingling in the world, and in the affairs of 
 public life, and beyond all these influences, 
 subjected early to the wholesome discipline, 
 both moral and intellectual, of taking care 
 of himself, and the aflfairs of the house and 
 the farm, will have more capacity for busi- 
 ness, and exhibit more intellectual activity 
 and versatility than the best scholar who 
 ever graduated from a Prussian school, but 
 whose school-life, and especially the years 
 which immediately follow, are subjected to 
 
 the depressing and repressing influences of 
 a despotic government, and to a state of 
 society in which e\ery thing is fixed both 
 by law and the iron rule of custom. But 
 this superiority is not due to the school, 
 but is gained in spite of the school. 
 
 Now when the causes which conduced to 
 this superiority are less operative and less 
 general, the improvement of schools becomes 
 doubly important. This can be etfected only 
 as the moulders of educational institutions 
 intelligently apprehend their proper aim, or, 
 in other words, the due relation of school 
 education to education in its enlarged sense, 
 and as they succeed in leading teachers to a 
 judicious direction of their efforts, and to 
 the employment of methods adapted to the 
 end in view. Omitting the consideration 
 of the last topic suggested as not embraced 
 in the design of this article, we shall have 
 before us a practical aim, in addition to sup- 
 plying the criterion for estimating the ex- 
 cellences and the defects of the education of 
 the past and the present, if we consider as 
 well as we may the question, 
 
 WHAT IS EDUCATION? 
 
 To facilitate the attainment of definiteness 
 and accuracy of the conception, we shall 
 attempt to distinguish the related ideas. 
 And, 
 
 1. Formation of character, which is the 
 most comprehensive of these related ideas, 
 represents the combined result of human, 
 natural and supernatural agencies in fashion- 
 ing every lineament of the man in every de- 
 partment of his inner being. The human 
 agency embraces parent, brother, sister, 
 nurse, playmate, teacher, chosen companion, 
 casual acquaintance, in short, all of his kind, 
 contemporaries or predecessors, who have 
 directly or indirectly contributed to the 
 moulding of the man. The natural agency 
 is the external world or physical universe, 
 which in its influence upon persons similarly 
 situated varies with their susceptibility. The 
 supernatural agency comprehends that exer- 
 cise of the sovereign power of the great 
 First Cause, which places the individual in 
 the special condition and relations that at- 
 tend him on his introduction into existence 
 and throughout his life, with whatever of 
 direct operations there may be upon the 
 mind,experienced consciously or unconscious- 
 ly, of divine, angelic or demoniacal origin. 
 The estimate of this last influence will de- 
 
384 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 pend upon the theological views entertained. 
 Character is raised to its highest elevation 
 when the prevailing motive in the conduct 
 of life is regard tor the perfect will of God ; 
 and it is then called piety. Education view- 
 ed actively is not the correlative of forma- 
 tion of character, neither, viewed as a result, 
 is it identical therewith. However we may 
 employ sensible objects or those only con- 
 ceived of, it proceeds by human agency 
 alone. Whilst the disorganization of the 
 human constitution has proved beyond the 
 ability of mere education to rectify, on the 
 supposition that perfection of character was 
 attained, education might go on indefinitely. 
 Formation of character gives a certain com- 
 bination of features or qualities ; education 
 presents cultivated susceptibilities and stores 
 of gathered treasures. Strictly, education 
 is always immediate. We may employ an- 
 other, or assist in preparing him, to edu- 
 cate a third person ; but if this is all, we are 
 not ourselves with him educators of that 
 person. 
 
 2. The development of the faculties is the 
 second related idea. Development is the un- 
 folding of something which had existed only 
 in embryo, by exciting its dormant vital 
 energy or inherent force to activity. The 
 result of the development of the mental fac- 
 ulties is power, power, intellectual, moral, and 
 voluntary; power of instigating and power of 
 controlling action. When the moral faculty 
 or conscience controls action in all the rela- 
 tions of a man to his fellow-men, rectitude 
 or uprightness is the result. It is the func- 
 tion of education to superintend the devel- 
 opment of the faculties, accelerating that of 
 some, circumscribing or restraining that of 
 others, and to regulate them in their exer- 
 cise. Development, even when regulated by 
 education, must fail to give to man perfec- 
 tion of character, for it neither gives nor 
 takes away, and hence original imperfection 
 must remain, though it may be partially con- 
 cealed. In an unregulated but stimulated 
 development the proportions of what is fair 
 would be outgrown and obscured by all 
 forms of ugliness. 
 
 3. Training, of which the third related 
 idea is the conception, is directed specifi- 
 cally to the forming of habits. Thus from 
 the earliest mental training tliere may pro- 
 ceed the habits of obedience, order, neat- 
 ness, trust, gentleness, kindness, self-denial, 
 &c. ; from corporeal training habits of mo- 
 tion, and physical action in general. Educa- 
 
 tion is not, like training, directed exclusively 
 to the forming of habits. This is rather its 
 preliminary work. 
 
 4. Instruction is the communication of 
 knowledge which may be of value to the re- 
 cipient, either in itself or as a means to a re- 
 moter end. Education gives the discipline 
 which turns knowledge to account. Instruc- 
 tion calls into exercise a sort of passive ac- 
 tivity, a reception of facts and a perception 
 of relations as presented. Education trains 
 the pupil to discover relations, and to make 
 deductions from facts, and thus excites an 
 independent activity. Teachers and books 
 instruct when they convey thoughts and ex- 
 plain processes ; they educate in so far as 
 they lead the pupil or reader to think for 
 himself and to institute new processes. In- 
 struct a man, and he will become well in- 
 formed in regard to the subject of the in- 
 struction ; educate a man, and his mind will 
 be not only furnished, but also disciplined 
 and cultivated in proportion to its capacity 
 and the extent of the process. Precisely the 
 same process may be instruction in one re- 
 spect and education in another. Often, how- 
 ever, their methods are essentially different, 
 for instruction may simply labor to facili- 
 tate to the utmost the acquisition of know- 
 ledge, but education, whilst careful to adapt 
 its requirements to the strength of the 
 learner, introducing its severer methods 
 gradually, and never prematurely assigning 
 the abstruser branches of study, only directs 
 the learner how to encounter the difficulties 
 of his path, and leaves him to take every 
 step for himself, aiming to bring him as soon 
 as possible to the condition where he may 
 dispense with all aid. Tims, although in- 
 struction and education are inseparable, there 
 may be much instruction where there is very 
 little education, and very little instruction 
 where there is much education. Instruction 
 is limited to what the teacher does ; educa- 
 tion is measured by what the pupil is ren- 
 dered competent to perform. 
 
 5. Tuition, distinctively regarded, has for 
 its end simply advancement in specific 
 branches of study. It is related to educa- 
 tion in its restricted sense as a part to a 
 whole. Also, it is objective only. 
 
 Educatioti, in its enlarged sense, is the dis- 
 ciplining, ctiltivating, and furnishing of the 
 mind of man, as a man, and for the particu- 
 lar position which he is to hold. It is thus 
 general and special ; general, so far as it 
 seeks to advance man towards the perfection 
 
PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 
 
 385 
 
 'of his being; special, so far as it is directed 
 jto preparation for a particular spliere of ac- 
 tivity. Discipline gives trained strength, 
 I the ability to exercise developed power at 
 I will. Culture brings the mind into the con- 
 jdition, relative to its capacity, to produce 
 what is useful and beautiful and good and 
 true. The furniture of the mind is its 
 general stores. Incidental to the principal 
 objects of education is physical culture. Edu- 
 cation regards the body as a casket which 
 must be guarded well, that the contents re- 
 ceive no injury ; as a servant to be kept in 
 good condition for the master's benefit. 
 
 Education in its restricted sense is that 
 extent of mental discipline, culture and fur- 
 niture, to be systematically gained under the 
 direction of a teacher, which is requisite to 
 the indefinite improvement of the pupil by 
 himself, or to his independent completion 
 of his preparation for his business in life. 
 It is thus, like education in its enlarged 
 sense, general and special. 
 
 This last definition determines the sphere 
 to which the teacher is limited, and which 
 he must occupy as completely as possible. 
 It dictates no uniform course or method. 
 These must be varied to suit the character 
 and circumstances of pupils. It prescribes 
 for each simply the text that is practicable, 
 not every thing which is desirable. Beyond 
 the mere fundamental branches of knowl- 
 edge it makes the furnishing of the mind a 
 secondary end. It utterly forbids the stri- 
 ving to make every pupil the recipient of 
 all the sciences. In the most extended course 
 of study it marks out the pupil's becoming 
 an adequate self-educator as the limit of the 
 teacher's duties, and the aim for the attain- 
 ment of which he must strive. It counten- 
 ances no forcing processes, which generate 
 mei'e hot-bed developments, and pre\ent all 
 possibility of the solid growth requisite to 
 convert the tender plant into the majes- 
 tic tree ; and least of all, no measure tending 
 to blunt the sensibilities or sour the dispo- 
 sition. It admits that the most valuable 
 part of education is what is superadded to 
 the labors of the teacher, or goes on inde- 
 pendently of him, but it requires of him un- 
 ceasing watchfulness over his pupils, and 
 consummate wisdom and skill in direct- 
 ing their studies and guiding their efi'orts. 
 Finally, if it permits time and effort to be 
 devoted chiefly to literary attainments, it 
 implies that all intellectual acquisitions must 
 be made subordinate to moral culture. 
 
 We will close this chapter by marking 
 some of the successive steps, agencies, and 
 results, in the development of our present 
 system of public elementary education. 
 
 1. As has been already remarked, in the 
 reconstruction of civil society which follow- 
 ed the change from colonies to independ- 
 ent states in confederated and afterward na- 
 tional union, the necessity and wisdom of 
 making some provision for the education of 
 children was generally recognized, aud in 
 some instances thoroughly and liberallv pro- 
 vided for in the fundamental laws. 
 
 The constitution of Massachusetts adopts 
 cd in 1780 has this provision: "Wisdom 
 and knowledge as well as virtue ditfused 
 generally among the body of the people, 
 being necessary for the preservation of their 
 rights and liberties, and as these depend on 
 spreading the opportunities and advantages 
 of education in the various parts of the 
 country, and among the difi'erent orders of 
 the people, it shall be the duty of legisla- 
 tures and magistrates in all future periods 
 of this commonwealth, to cherish the in- 
 terests of literature and the sciences, and 
 all seminaries, especially the University of 
 Cambridge, public schools, and grammar 
 schools in the towns ; to encourage private 
 societies and public institutions, rewards and 
 immunities for the promotion of agriculture, 
 arts, sciences, commerce, trades, manufac- 
 tures, and a natural history of the country ; 
 to countenance and inculcate the principles 
 of humanity and general benevolence, public 
 and private charity, industry and frugality, 
 honesty and punctuality in their dealings ; 
 sincerity, good humor, and all social aft'ec- 
 tions and generous sentiments among the 
 people." In the revision of the school laws 
 in 1789, it is provided that "towns of fifty 
 families are required to sustain schools 
 wherein children are taught to read and 
 write, and instructed in the English lan- 
 guage, arithmetic, orthography, and decent 
 behavior, for a term equal to one school of 
 six months in each 3'ear ; every town of one 
 hundred families, twelve months ; ever}' town 
 of one hundred and fifty families, eighteen 
 months ; and every town of two hundred 
 families twelve months, and in addition 
 thereto sustain a school wherein is taught 
 the Latin, Greek and English languages for 
 twelve months in each year." It is also 
 " made the duty of the president, professors 
 and tutors of the University at Cambridge, 
 preceptors and teachers of academies, and 
 
386 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 all Other instructors of youth, to take dili- 
 gent care, and to exert their best endeavors 
 to impress on the minds of children and 
 youth committed to tlieir care and instruc- 
 tion the principles of piety, justice and a 
 sacred regard to truth, love to their country, 
 humanity and universal benevolence, sobrie- 
 ty, industry and frugality, chastitv, modera- 
 tion and temperance, and those "other vir- 
 tues which are the ornament of human so- 
 ciety, and the basis npon which the republi- 
 can constitution is structured; and it shall 
 be the duty of such instructors to endeavor 
 to lead those under their care into a particu- 
 lar understanding of the tendency of the 
 before-mentioned virtues to preserve and 
 perfect a republican constitution, and to se- 
 cure the blessings of liberty as well as to 
 promote their future hajjpiness, and the ten- 
 dency of the opposite vices to slavery and 
 ruin." 
 
 ^Vermont in the constitution adopted in 
 179:! ordains "that a C(Uiipetent number of 
 schools shall be maintained in each town for 
 the convenient instruction of youth, and one 
 or more grammar schools to be incorporated 
 and propeily siippoiied in each connty," and 
 by subsequent legislation imposed the neces- 
 sary tax for their support. 
 
 New Hampshire in 1789 empowers and 
 requires the selectmen of the several towns I 
 to assess an annual tax upon the inhabitants 
 for the support of a school or schools for 
 teaching, reading, writing and arithmetic, 
 and in each county town a grammar school 
 for the purpose of teaching"" the Greek and 
 Latin languages in addition to the other 
 studies. 
 
 Connecticut in 1795, in addition to a 
 special tax for the support of common 
 schools, collectable with the other public 
 taxes, aijpropriated the avails of the .sales 
 of three millions of acres of land belono-in<r 
 to the state and situated in Ohio— since 
 Jvnown as the Western Preserve — as a perpe- 
 tual fund for the same object. 
 
 New York in 1795 appropriated $50,000 
 annually for the purpose of encouraging 
 and maintaining common schools in ''the 
 several cities and towns, which were required 
 to raise by tax for the same purpose a sum 
 equal to one-half the amount received from 
 the state. 
 
 Penn.sylvania in the constitution adopted 
 in 1790 ordains "that the legislature shall 
 provide by law for the establishment of 
 schi>ols throughout the state in such manner 
 
 that the poor may be taught gratis ;" " and 
 that the arts and sciences shair be promoted 
 in one or more seminaries of learning." The 
 peculiar feature in the constitution and laws 
 ot Pennsylvania providing for the free edu- 
 cation of the poor instead of common .schools 
 was unfortunately adopted by New Jersey,' 
 Delaware, Maryland, and most of the south- 
 ern states which had not enjoyed from tlieir 
 first beginnings the inestimable advanta<res 
 of public schools "g.iod enough for the rfeh 
 and cheap enough for the poor." Owing to 
 the sparseness of tlieir population, their '" pe- 
 culiar institution," and difiiculty of establish- 
 ing good school habits in any community, 
 public schools have never flourished in the 
 southern and south-western states. 
 
 Virginia in 179G passed a general school 
 law, a portion of the preambled which is as 
 follows : " Whereas, upon a review of the 
 history of mankind, it seemeth that, however 
 favorable a republican government founded 
 on the principles of equal liberty, justice and 
 order_ may be to human happiness, no real 
 stability or lasting permanency thereof can 
 be rationally hoped for, if the minds of the 
 citizens be not rendered liberal and humane, 
 and be not fully impressed with the im- 
 portance of those principles from whence 
 these blessings proceed ; with a view, there- 
 fore, to lay the first foundations of a sys- 
 tem of education which may tend to pro- 
 duce those desirable purposes," etc. Georgia, 
 Kentucky and Tennessee passed school laws 
 with aims as generous as those of the above 
 preamble; but the institutions established 
 were for higher learning and the few, and 
 not for the great masses of the community. 
 
 Ohio, Indiana, and all of the states fornied 
 out of the north-western and Louisiana 
 territories, as they were admitted into the 
 Union, adopted in their organic and early 
 laws provi>ions f,)r the appropriation of the 
 funds created out of the educational land 
 grants of Congress, before spoken of, to the 
 support of common schools and colleges, on 
 the ]ilan of the eastern states. But It was 
 soon found that it was not sufticient to pass 
 laws, or even appropriate money liberally for 
 the support of .schools; those laws must be 
 efhciently and uniformly administered, and 
 the condition of the schools be brought con- 
 stantly to the attention of the legislature and 
 the people. 
 
 2. New York was the first state to create 
 an officer to look after the operations of the 
 school law, and to advise and assist local 
 
PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMEXTARY SCHOOLS. 
 
 387 
 
 sclmol officers in its administration. The 
 a[>piiintiiieiit bv the legislature in 1813 of 
 Gideon Ilawley as superintendent of com- 
 mon schools, an<l his annual reports to the 
 legislature on the working of the system, 
 constitute an important era in the history 
 of public instruction in the United States. 
 Other states created the oflice, but devolved 
 its administration on some other department 
 already burdened with other and dissimilar 
 duties. In 1S"20 Massachusetts required re- 
 turns to be made of the condition of the 
 public schools of each town, and in 18:^0 in- 
 stituted a state board of education, with a 
 salaried secretary whose business it was made 
 " to collect information of the actual condi- 
 tion and efficiency of the common schools 
 and other means of popular education, and 
 diffuse as widely as possible throughout 
 every part of the state information of the 
 most approved methods of conducting the 
 education of the young, that they may have 
 the best education that common schools can 
 be made to impiart." Tliis example was fd- 
 lowed by Connecticut in 1838, and in less 
 than ten j'cars this great interest of public 
 instruction, so far as covered by elementary 
 schools, was recognized as a legitimate de- 
 partment of the government, in all the 
 northern and western states. 
 
 Under the able and enthusiastic leadership 
 of Horace Mann, the first secretary of the 
 board of education in Massachusetts, the va- 
 rious plans and suggestions which had been 
 proposed for ten or fifteen years previous, for 
 the improvement of common schools, were 
 matured and applied in the most efficient 
 manner. Conventions of teachers, parents 
 and fiiends of popular education were held 
 for addresses and discussions, in every state, 
 and in almost every county in every state 
 which had appointed either a single officer, 
 or a board with a paid secretary, to look 
 after this interest. The regular and punctual 
 attendance of all the children of a suitable 
 age at school, the advantages of a gradation 
 of schools, of piarental visits to the schools, 
 of an association of the teachers for mutual 
 improvement, and the visiting of each other's 
 schools; the evils arising from an improper 
 kication, construction and furniture of school 
 houses, from a diversity of text books in the 
 same study, from a multiplicity of studies in 
 the same school, from the neglect of the 
 young pupils and the primary studies, from 
 a constant change of teachers, from the em- 
 ployment of teachers not properly qualified, 
 
 from severe and unnatural punishments, 
 from the want of suitable apparatus, f[Mm 
 the mechanical processes of teaching read- 
 ing, arithmetic, and other studies, from the 
 neglect of moral education, these and other 
 subjects were discussed in official reports, in 
 the public press, and in professional school 
 journals. Out of the more enlightened and 
 interested public ojiiuion of the country, 
 in neighborhoods, villages, and cities, have 
 resulted wise legislation, efficient organiza- 
 tion, vigorous administration, and liberal ap- 
 propriations, in respect to the material outfit 
 of schools; and with these, but not as rapidly 
 or as widely, have grown up better school at- 
 tendance, more philosophical arrangement of 
 studies, and improved methods of instruction 
 and discipline. 
 
 o. Since 1840 the most marked improve- 
 ment in the organization, administration and 
 instruction of public schools, has been made 
 in the larger cities of the several states, 
 sometimes under the general school law of 
 the state, but generally under special legisla- 
 tion. With the exception of Boston and a 
 few of the other large cities of New Eng- 
 land, the system of public schools was alto- 
 gether inadequate to the educational wants 
 of large communities. Expensive private 
 schools were the main reliance for the edu- 
 cation of the children of professicinab and 
 wealthy famines, while a large number of 
 those whose means were inadequate, were 
 left without provision for their instruction. 
 The establishment of schools of difi'erent 
 grades for children of difl^erent ages and 
 studies, and especially of primary schools for 
 young children under female teachers, and 
 of a high school for the older boys and girls 
 in studies heretofore pursued only in expen- 
 .sive private schools, hasgreatlv increased the 
 attendance and ele\ ated the character of the 
 public schools of our cities. By means of 
 evening schools which have been established 
 in many of our cities, the defective educa- 
 tion of many young men has been remedied, 
 and their various employments have been 
 converted into more efficient instruments of 
 selfculture. 
 
 4. With the improvement of schools in 
 cities and large villages, the establishment 
 of normal schools, teachers' associations, 
 teachers" institutes, and educational jour- 
 nals, and state and local supervision, the 
 country schools throughout the northern and 
 westei'n states are now in a good and lioj)eful 
 condition. 
 
388 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ACADEMIES, HIGH SCHOOLS, AND OTHER 
 INSTITUTIONS OF SECONDARY EDUCA- 
 TION. 
 
 The first puLlic scliools of the American 
 colonies were tlie free endowed grammar 
 scliools and subscription grammar schools ; 
 schools for secondary education. Public pri- 
 mary or elementary common schools were 
 of later date, both in chronological order, 
 and as being a logical result of their prede- 
 cessors of higher grade. 
 
 The first school laws, those of Connecti- 
 cut and Massachusetts, which were subse- 
 quent to the establishment by individuals or 
 towns of the classes of schools they referred 
 to, recognized all three grades of education- 
 al institutions, both what are at present 
 termed common or elementary, and also 
 secondary or superior ; that is to say, com- 
 mon or neighborhood schools, grammar 
 schools, and colleges. 
 
 The class of secondary schools, since the 
 very earliest period of their estalilishment, 
 has been far less cherished and supported, 
 either by public opinion or by legal provis- 
 ions, than either of the other two classes. 
 Almost universally, the academy, the en- 
 dowed school, the grammar school, has been 
 wholly left to the support of those wealthier 
 or more learned classes who have been ta- 
 citly assumed to have the only use for them; 
 and where any state assistance has been ex- 
 tended to them, it has usually been in the ex- 
 ceptional form of individual acts of incorpo- 
 ration or individual grants of money or land. 
 
 It may be observed that such a co-equal 
 public recognition, if extended to the class 
 of secondary schools, would at once produce 
 a definite and important result, in throwing 
 probably half of what may be termed the 
 present secondary course of stud}' back with- 
 in the course of the elementary grade of 
 schools, and also in bringing back a large 
 number of what are termed colleges into 
 their appropriate grade of secondary institu- 
 tions. 
 
 The noticeable and important fact is more- 
 over thus brought out, that public opinion 
 in the United States has never, up to the 
 present time, demanded or recognized any 
 universal privilege of education beyond that 
 in the merest rudiments of it. 
 
 This neglect has of course caused the ex- 
 isting almost entire deficiency of recorded 
 statistics of schools of this class. Such sta- 
 
 tistics are not accessible at all, except in the 
 single state of New York, and even there, 
 only from such secondary institutions as are 
 obliged to furnish them as a condition of 
 their receipt of a portion of the literature 
 fund. This remark is not aj)plicable to iLe 
 grade of schools known as public hiijh 
 schools, for boys or girls, or both, in several 
 of our larger cities ; but these schools, 
 few in number and of modern origin, are 
 not so much the outgrowth of popular feel- 
 ling, as the creations of a few intelligent 
 friends of public education, in advance of 
 any general demand for this class of institu- 
 tions. Although not recognized generally 
 as part of our systems of public instruction, 
 schools of the former class have increased 
 rapidly, and now exist in almost every village 
 in the land, and their aggregate number in 
 1850, according to the census of that year, 
 will be seen in the table on page 451. 
 
 The progress of this class of schools, in 
 respect to studies, books, and equipment 
 generally, and methods of instruction and 
 discipline, can be readily measured by any 
 one who will look into the best academy or 
 public high school in his neighborhood, and 
 then read the following communications — 
 the first by the lion. Josiali Quincv, respect- 
 ing one of the earliest institutions of the class 
 known as academies ; and the other two 
 by eminent public men, respecting the pub 
 lie schoiils, and particularly the Latin school 
 of Boston, as it was prior to or about the 
 beginning of the present century, and at 
 that time pronounced " the best on the 
 American continent." 
 
 " Mr. Barnard : Dear Sir — You ask brief- 
 ly the position of Phillips Academy as to 
 studies, text-books, methods, and discipline. 
 That academy was founded in the year 1 778, 
 in the midst of the war of the Revolution, 
 by the united contributions of three broth- 
 ers — Samuel, John, and William Phillips — 
 all of them men of property according to 
 the scale of that day, and all of a liberal s])irit 
 toward e\'oi'y object, religious, moral, or ed- 
 ucational. l>ut the real author and instiga- 
 tor of that foundation was the only son of 
 the first of the above-named, who was known 
 during the early period of his life by the 
 name of Samuel ] 'hi Hips, Junior. He wa.s, 
 during his whole life, one of the most dis- 
 tinguished, exemplary, and popular men in 
 Massachusetts; active, spiiited, influential, 
 and ready, and a leader in everj' good work,* 
 
ACADEMIES, HIGH SCHOOLS, ETC. 
 
 380 
 
 and he had the contrul of the hearts of his 
 father and two uncles, and was undoubtedly 
 the influential spirit giving vitality to the 
 plan of that institution. There was only 
 ,one academy in the state at that time — Dum- 
 jner Academy at Newbury — which, although 
 it had sent forth many good scholars, was 
 thou going to decay ; and the beautiful and 
 comniamling site in the south parish of An- 
 dover which that institution now occupies, 
 was unquestionably one of the causes of the 
 idea of the institution as well as of its lo- 
 jcality. Eliphalet Pearson had been eduea- 
 [ted at Dummer Academy, was distinguished 
 jfor his scholarship and zeal in the cause of 
 felassical learning; Samuel Phillips, jr., had 
 formedanintimacy with him at college, though 
 |in difterent classes, and entertained a high 
 opinion both of his literary attainments and 
 spirit of discipline. Phillips Academy was 
 projected with reference to his becoming its 
 first master; and his aid was joined with 
 that of his friend Phillips in forming the con- 
 stitution of the academy. 
 j "The time of its foundation was unques- 
 Itionably most inauspicious to its success, 
 but young Phillips was of a spirit that 
 ; quailed before no obstacles. It was designed 
 I to be a model institution of the kind, and 
 no pains were omitted to secure its success; 
 and notwithstanding the uncertainties of the 
 ; political aspect of the time and the perpetu- 
 ally increasing depreciation of paper- money, 
 : it was sustained in great usefulness and ])ros- 
 i perity. I was sent to that academy within 
 la month after its opening, in M.ay, 1778, 
 I being the seventh admis^inn on its catalogue. 
 . I had just then entered upon my seventh 
 year, and was thrust at once into my Latin 
 at a period of life when noun, pronoun, and 
 participle were terms of mysterious mean- 
 ing which all the explanati<uis of my gram- 
 mars and my masters for a long time vainly 
 attempted to make me comprehend. But the 
 laws of the school were imperious. They 
 had no regard for my age, and I was for 
 years submitted to the studios and discipline 
 of the seminary, which, though I could re- 
 peat the former, through want of compre- 
 hension of their meaning, I could not possi- 
 bly understand. I was sent to the academy 
 two years at least before I ought to have 
 been. But William Phillips was my grand- 
 father ; it was deemed desirable that the 
 founders of the academy should show confi- 
 dence in its advantages; I was, therefore, 
 sent at once, upon its first opening, and I 
 
 have always regarded the severe discipline 
 to which I was subjected, in consequence of 
 the inadeqiuicy of my 3-ears to my studies, 
 as a humble contribution toward the success 
 of the academy. 
 
 "The course of .studies and text-books I do 
 not believe I can from memory exactly re- 
 capitulate ; I cannot, however, be far out 
 of the way in stating that ' Cheever's Ac- 
 cidence' was our first book ; the second, 
 ' Oorderius ;' the third, ' Nepos ;' then, if 
 I mistake not, came ' Virgil.' There may 
 have been some intermediate author which 
 has escaped my memory, but besides Virgil 
 I have no recollection of any higher author. 
 
 " Our grammar was ' Ward's,' in which all 
 the rules and expLinations are in Latin, and 
 we were drilled sedulously in writing this 
 language far enough to get into the univer- 
 sity. Our studies in Greek were verj' slight 
 and superficial. Gloucester's Greek Gram- 
 mar was our guide in that language, and a 
 thorough ability to construe the four Gos- 
 pels was all re<juired of us to enter the col- 
 lege. 
 
 " These are the best answers I can give to 
 your inquiries on the subject of ' studies 
 and text-books,' but I am not confident that 
 my memory serves me with exactness. Our 
 prepai-ation was limited enough, but suffi- 
 cient for the poverty and distracted state of 
 the period. 
 
 " Of ' methods and discipline,' fir which 
 you inquire, I can only say that the former 
 was strict and exact, and the latter severe. 
 Pearson was a convert to thorough disci- 
 pline ; monitors kept an account of all of a 
 student's failures, idleness, inattention, whis- 
 pering, and like deviations from order, and 
 at the end of the week were best<5wed sub- 
 stantial rewards for such self-indulgences, 
 distributed upon the head and hand with no 
 lack of strength or fidelity. 
 
 " In that day arithmetic was begun at the 
 university. The degree of preparation for col- 
 lege and the amount of the studies within it 
 are not worthy of remembrance when com- 
 pared with the means of acquirement now 
 presented to the aspiring student. 
 
 " Your other inquiries I should be happy 
 to make the subject of reply, but long ces- 
 sation of familiarity with the objects to which 
 they relate makes me dubious of my power 
 to add any thing important to their history. 
 My knowledge of the common schools of 
 Boston was obtained only during the vaca- 
 tions of the academy, and had chief refer- 
 
390 
 
 KDUCATIO>f AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 ence to improvement in my writing. Their 
 adviuitiigcs were few enough and humWo 
 enough ; the education of females very slight, 
 and limited to reading, writing, and tlie ear- 
 lier branches of arithmetic. 
 
 "The interests of schools and of education 
 were, thirty years ago, subjects of my tliought 
 and writing ; but the lapse of time and the 
 interposition of other objects and new du- 
 ties deprive rrie of tlie power of aiding your 
 researches on these subjects, which are, how- 
 ever, easily and far better satisfied by the 
 active men of the day. Wishing you all 
 success in these wise and noble pursuits, 
 " I am, very truly, 
 
 " Your friend and servant, 
 
 "JosiAH Ql'incv." 
 
 "Boston, Deo. 1st, 1860." 
 
 The following "Memorandum of an emi- 
 nent clergyman, who was educated in the 
 best schools of Boston just before the Ilevo- 
 lution," we copy from a volume of the 
 " Massachusetts Common School Journal," 
 vol. xii., pp. 311, 31ii. The notes are by 
 the editor of the Journal, Wm. B. Fowlc : 
 
 " At the age of six and a half years, I 
 •was sent to Master John Lovcll's Latin 
 school. The only requirement was reading 
 well ; but, though fully qualified, I was sent 
 away to Master Griffith, a private teacher, 
 to learn to read, write and spell. I learned 
 the English Grammar in l)ilworth's Spelling 
 Book by heart. Griffith traced letters with 
 a pencil, and the pupils inked them. 
 
 " Entered Lovell's school at seven years. 
 Lovell was a tyrant, and his system one of 
 terror. Trouncini;* was common in the 
 
 * " Trouncing was performed by stripping the boy, 
 mounting him on anotlier's baclc, and whipping hiiu 
 witli birch rods, before tlie wliole school, .lames 
 Lovell, the grandson of John, once related to us the 
 following anecdote, which shows the utiUl)j of cor- 
 poral punishment! It seems that a boy had played 
 truant, and Master John had publicly declared that 
 tho oft'ender should be trounced. When such a sen- 
 tence was pronounced, it was understood that the 
 other boys might seize the criminal, and take him 
 to school by force. Tlie culprit was soon seized Vjy 
 one party, and liurriod to tlie master, who inflicted 
 the punishment without delay. On his way home, 
 the cul[)rit met another party, who cried out, 'Ah, 
 John Brown,' or whatever his name was, 'you'll 
 get it when you go to school!' 'No, I shan't,' 
 said the victorious boy, who felt that he had got the 
 start of them, 'No, I shan't, for Pve got it,' and, as 
 he said this, he slapped his h.and upon the part that 
 luid paid tlio penalty, thus, as tho poet says, ' suit- 
 ing tho action to the word.' " 
 
 school. Dr. Cooper was one of his earlv 
 .scholars, and he told Dr. Jackson, the min- 
 ister of Brookline, that he had dreams of 
 school till he died. The boys were so afraid 
 they could not study. Sam. Bradford, after- 
 ward sheriff', pronounced the P in Ptolemy, 
 and the younger Lovell rapped him over the 
 head with a heavy ferule.* 
 
 "We studied Latin from 8 o'clock till 
 11, and from 1 till dark. After one or two 
 years, I went to the town school, to Master 
 Holbrook, .it the corner of West street, to 
 learn to write ; and to Master Proctor, on 
 Pemberton's Hill, in the south-east part of 
 Scoliay's Building. My second, third, and 
 fourth year, I wrote there, and did nothing 
 else. The English boys alone were tauijlit 
 to make pens. Griffith was gentle, but his 
 being a private teacher accounts for it. 
 
 "The course of study was, grammar; 
 Esop, with a translation ; Clarke's Introduc- 
 tion to writing Latin ; Eutropius, with a 
 translation ; Corderius ; Ovid's Metamor- 
 phoses ; Virgil's Georgics ; iEneid ; Ca-sar; 
 Cicero. Li the sixth year I began Greek, 
 and for the first time attempted English 
 composition, by translating Ca?sar's Com- 
 mentaries. The master allowed us to read 
 poetical translations, such as Trappe's and 
 Dryden's Virgil. I was half way through 
 Virgil when I began Greek with Ward's 
 Greek Grammar. 
 
 " After Choever's Latm Accidence, we 
 took Ward's Lily's Latin Grammer. After 
 the Greek Grammar, we read the Greek 
 Testament, and were allowed to use Beza's 
 Latin translation. Then came Homer's 
 Iliad, five or six books, using Clarke's 
 translation with notes, and this was all my 
 Greek education at school. Then we took 
 Horace, and composed Latin verses, using 
 the Gradus ad I'arnassum. Daniel Jones 
 was the first Latin scholar in 1771 or 1772, 
 
 * "We saw this done by another Boston teacher, 
 about thirty years ago, and when we remonstrated 
 Avith him upon the danger of inflicting such a blow, 
 upon such a spot, '0, the caitifls, ' said he, 'it is 
 good for them I' About the same time, another 
 teacher, who used to strike his pujiils upon the 
 hand so that tlie marks and bruises were visiHe, 
 was waited upon b_v a committee of mothers, who 
 lived near tho school, and had been annoyed by the 
 outcries of tho suflerers. The teacher promised not 
 to strike the boys any more on tlie lumil, and the 
 women went away satisfied. But, instead of in- 
 flicting blows upon the hand, lie inflicted them upon 
 the soles of the feet, and made the punishment more 
 severe." 
 
ACADEMIES, HIGH SCHOOLS, ETC. 
 
 391 
 
 iiiid he was brother to Thomas Kilby Jones, 
 fvho was no scholar, though a distinguished 
 jnerchant afterward. 
 
 I '• I entered college at the age of fourteen 
 years and three months, and was equal in 
 (jatia and Greek to the best in the senior 
 class. Xenophon and Salliist were the only 
 books used in college that I had not stud- 
 ied. I went to tlie private school from 1 1 
 ito 12 A. M., and to the public from 3 to 5 
 
 JP. M. 
 
 I " The last two years of my school life, 
 Jiobody taught English Grammar or Geog- 
 raphy, but Col. Joseph Ward (son of Dea- 
 con J oseph Ward, of Newton, West Parish, 
 jblacksmith,) who was self-taught, and set 
 |Up a school in Boston. lie became aid to 
 General W^ard when tlie war commenced, 
 land did not teach after the war. 
 I " I never saw a map, except in Cassar's 
 jCommentaries, and did not know what that 
 ]meant. Our class studied Lowth's English 
 Grammar at college. At Master Proctor's 
 jschool, reading and writing were taught in 
 jthe same room, to girls and boys, from 7 to 
 1 14 years of age, and the Bible was the only 
 jreading book. Dilworth's Spelling Book 
 jwas used, and the New England J'rimcr. 
 jThe master set sums in our MSS. but did not 
 Igo farther than the Rule of Three. 
 
 '"Master Griffith was a tliin man, and 
 Iwore a wig, as did blasters Lovell and 
 (Proctor, but they wore a cap when not in 
 full dress. James Lovell was so beaten by 
 his grandfather John, that James the father 
 rose and said, * Sir, you have flogged that 
 boy enough.' The boy went off determined 
 I to leave school, and go to Master Proctor's ; 
 but he met one of Master Proctor's boys, 
 who a.sked whither he was going, and when 
 informed, warned him not to go, for he 
 would fare worse." 
 
 Hon. Edward Everett, in an address at the 
 Annual School Festival in Fanouil Hall in 
 1852, gives the following account of the 
 educational advantages he enjoyed in early 
 life :— 
 
 " It was fifty-two 3'ears last April since I 
 began, at the age of nine years, to attend 
 the readinsj and writino; schools in North 
 Bennett street. The reading school was 
 under Master Little, (for ' Young America' 
 had not yet repudiated that title,) and the 
 writing school was kept by Master Tileston. 
 Master Little, in spite of his name, was a 
 giant in stature — six feet four, at least — and 
 
 somewhat wedded to the past. He strugsjled 
 earnestly against the change then taking 
 place in the pronunciation of u, and insisted 
 on saying monoomcnt and natur. But I ac- 
 quired, under his tuition, what was thought 
 in those days a very tolerable knowledge of 
 Lindley Murray's abridgment of English 
 grammar, and at the end of the 3'car could 
 parse almost any sentence in the ' American 
 Preceptor.' Master Tileston was a writing 
 master of the old school. He set the copies 
 himself, and taught that beautiful old Boston 
 handwriting, which, if I do not mistake, has, 
 in the march of innovation, (which is not 
 always the same thing as improvement,) 
 been changed very little for the better. 
 Master Tileston was ailvanced in years, and 
 had found a quallfic.ition for his calling as a 
 writing master, in what might have seemed 
 at first to threaten to be an obstruction. 
 The fingers of his right hand had been con- 
 tracted and stiffened in early life, by a burn, 
 but were fixed in just the position to hold a 
 pen and a penknife — and nothing else. As 
 they were also considerably indurated, they 
 served as a convenient instrument of disci- 
 pline. A copy badly written, or a blotted 
 page, was sometimes visited with an inflic- 
 tion which would have done no discredit to 
 the beak of a bald eagle. His long, deep 
 desk was a perfect curiosity-shop of confis- 
 cated balls, tops, penknives, marbles and 
 Jews-harps — the accumulation of forty years. 
 I desire, however, to speak of him with 
 gratitude, for he put mc on the track of an 
 acquisition which has been extremely useful 
 to me in after life— that of a plain, legible 
 hand. I remained at these schools about 
 sixteen months, and liad the good fortune in 
 1804 to receive the Franklin medal in the 
 English department. After an interval of 
 about a year, during which I attended a 
 private school kept by Mr. Ezekicl Webster, 
 of New Hampshire, and on ap occasion of 
 his absence, by his ever memorable brother, 
 Daniel Webster, at tliat time a student of 
 law in Boston, 1 went to the Latin school, 
 then slowly emerging from a state of extreme 
 depression. It was kept in School street, 
 where the Horticultural Hall now stands. 
 The standard of scholastic attainment was 
 certainly not higher than that of material 
 comfort in those days. AVe read pretty 
 much the same books — or of the same class 
 — in Latin and Greek, as are read now, but 
 in a very cursory and superficial manner. 
 There was no attention paid to the philoso- 
 
392 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 pliy of the languages — to the deduction of 
 words from their radical elements — to the 
 niceties of construction — still less to prosody. 
 I never made a hexameter or pentameter 
 verse, till, years afterward, I had a son at 
 school in London, who occasionally required 
 a little aid in that way. The subsidiary and 
 illustrative branches were wholly unknown 
 in the Latin school in 1805. Such a thing 
 as a school library, a book of reference, a 
 critical edition of a classic, a map, a black- 
 board, an engraving of an ancient building, 
 or a copy of a work of ancient art, such as 
 now adorn the walls of our schools, was as 
 little known as the electric telegraph. If 
 our children, who possess all these appliances 
 and aids to learning, do not greatly excel 
 their parents, they will be much to blame." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 COLLEGES. 
 
 The colleges of the United States were, at 
 the close of the lievohitionary war, seven in 
 number. They had been founded with the 
 design of providing for the new common- 
 wealths the means of a training for the 
 young men, substantially similar to that af- 
 forded by the univeisities at home. Their 
 course of studv was four A'ears in length, and 
 was at first decidedly theological in charac- 
 ter, and stibsequently more and more secu- 
 larized. The average age of those entering 
 was somewhat less than now ; and they con- 
 ferred, as at present, degrees in arts in course, 
 and honorary ones in arts, law, and divinity. 
 
 With the growth of the United States tliey 
 have rapidly increased in number, being sup- 
 ported, beyond the receipts for tuition, either 
 by endowments laised for each among the de- 
 nomination to which it belongs, or by the 
 proceeds of state gifts of hin<ls or money. The 
 number of tins ela>s of institutions incorpo- 
 rated with power to confer academic honors, 
 exceeds two hundred. The length of their 
 course of stud}- remains the same, and in- 
 deed this is the case in all their essential 
 characteristics. Although there lias been a 
 gradual elevation of the !,tandard of acquire- 
 ments made requiMte for entrance, this pic- 
 liminary examination has not been suffi- 
 ciently exacting and uniform. As their funds 
 and the number of their students have en- 
 larged, they have shown a tendency, not to 
 increase the length and completeness of their 
 
 course of study, but rather to multiply the 
 number of studies attempted to be taught, 
 by adding them to the undergraduate course; 
 and in a few instances also to annex special 
 schools in one or another department, such 
 as law, medicine, theology, and the appli- 
 cation of science to industrial occupations. 
 
 Mr. Everett gives the following picture ef 
 college life at Uarvard as it was fifty years 
 ago:— 
 
 " But short as the time is since I entered 
 college (only half as long as that which ha.s 
 elapsed since the close of the seven years' 
 war), it has made me the witness of wonder- 
 ful changes, both materially and intellec- 
 tually, in all that concerns our Alma Maler. 
 Let me sketch you the outlines of the pic- 
 ture, fresh to my mind's eye as the image in 
 the camera, which the precincts of the col- 
 lege exhibited in 1807. The Common was ' 
 then uninclosed. It was not so much trav- 
 ersed by roads in all directions ; it was at 
 once all road and no road at all, — a wa«te 
 of mud and of dust, according to the season, 
 without grass, trees, or fences. As to the 
 streets in those days, the 'Appian ^Vay' 
 existed then as now; and I must allow that 
 it bore the same resemblance then as now to 
 the Regina Viartim, by which the consuls 
 and proconsuls of Rome went forth to the 
 concpiest of Epirus, Macedonia, and the East, 
 " As to public buildings in the neighbor- 
 hood of the university, with the exception 
 of the Episcopal church, no one of the 
 churches now standing was then in exist- 
 ence. The (Ad parish church has disap- 
 peared, with its scpuu-e pews, and galleries 
 from wdiich you might almost jump into the 
 pnl])it. It occupied a portion of the space 
 between I)ane Hall imd the old Tresidential 
 House. I planted a row of elm and oak 
 trees a few years ago on the spot where it 
 stood, for which, if for nothing else, I hope 
 to be kindly remembered by posterity. The 
 wooden building now used as a gymnasiuni, 
 and, I believe, for some other purposes, then 
 stood where Lyceum Hall now stands. It 
 was the county court-house; and there I 
 often heard the voice of the venerable Cliict 
 Justice Parsons. Graduates' Hall did not 
 exist; but on a part of the site, and behiial 
 the beautiful linden trees still flourishing, 
 was an old black wooden house, the residence 
 of the professor of mathematics. A little fur- 
 ther to the north, and just at the corner of 
 Church street, which was not then opened, 
 stood what was dimiified in the annual col- 
 
—\ 
 
 FOL'N'DIXG OF DARTMOUTH COLLEGE, IN 1TG9. E'lliJlVVed in 1839. 
 
PEOFESSIOSAL SCHOOLS, ZTC. 
 
 39.3 
 
 lege catalogue (which was printed on one 
 side of a sheet of paper, and was a novelty) 
 a« ' The College House.' The cellar is 
 still visible. By the students this edifice 
 was disrespectfully called • Wiswall's Den,' 
 or, for brevity, ' the Den.' I lived in it in 
 mv freshman vear. Whence the name of 
 • "Wiswall's Den' was derived, I hardly dare 
 sav ; there was something worse than ' old 
 f.>gv' about it. There was a dismal tradi- 
 tion that, at some former period, it had been 
 the scene of a murder. A bnital husband 
 had dragged his wife bv the hair np and 
 down the stairs, and then killed her. On 
 theanniversaryof the murder — and what day 
 that was no one knew — there were sightsand 
 sounds — flitting garments draggled in blood, 
 plaintive screams, stridor ft rri traetceque 
 catencB — enough to appall the stoutest sopho- 
 more. But, for myself^ I can truly say, that 
 I got through my freshman year without 
 having seen the ghost of Mr. Wiswall or his 
 lamented lady. I was not, however, sorry 
 when the twelvemonth was up, and I was 
 tran>ferred to the light, airy, well-ventilated 
 room, N'o. 20 HoUis; being the inner room, 
 ground-floor, north entry of that ancient and 
 respectable edifice." 
 
 The tables on pages 451-3 exhibit the num- 
 ber, date of foundation, and statistics of our 
 American colleges in several important par- 
 ticulars. 
 
 cleiwyman, lawyer, or physician, acting as 
 his assistant and receivin-i his instructions. 
 Then, when they considered themselves St, 
 or an invitation came, they took their place 
 in the ranks of their profession. Gradually 
 the necessity of special opportunities of in- 
 struction in the principles, and their diverse 
 and complicated applications, led to the es- 
 tablishment of schools of theology, medicine, 
 and law ; and still later, of special courses 
 of instruction, and finally, of special schools 
 for the practical chemist, geologist, ci\-il and 
 military engineer, agriculturist and teacher. 
 This department of education is not yet 
 aided systematically in any state, and is hard- 
 Iv recognized by a majority of the states in 
 their systems of public instruction. Most 
 of this class of institutions have been estab- 
 lished by denominational or professional as- 
 sociations, or by the liberality of indi\'iduals 
 in advance of or as the inducement to legis- 
 lative aid. 
 
 CHAPTEPw YI. 
 
 PROFESSIONAL, SCIEXTIFIC. ASD SPECIAL 
 SCHOOLS. 
 
 As the body of human knowledge in- 
 creased in extent, and filled out in detail, it 
 subdivided by a natural process into a great- 
 er and greater number of sciences, as did 
 the industrial side of life into a greater and 
 greater number of employments. A sub- 
 division and increase in the number of 
 schools, preparatory to the business of life, 
 naturally accompanied this process. 
 
 The colleges of the United States, accord- 
 ing to this law of development, were in their 
 early day designed primarily to train future 
 clergymen, and secondarily to train those in- 
 tending to enter the public service. For a 
 long time college graduates had no means of 
 enjoying further instructicvn in either of the 
 then recognized learned professions, but by 
 residing near or in the family of some eminent 
 
 CHAPTER Yll. 
 THEOLOGICAL SCHOOLS. 
 
 The future clergyman, in the American 
 colonies, had already studied theology in his 
 college course. It was probably common for 
 graduates to serve what may be well enough 
 termed an apprenticeship imder some emi- 
 nent clergyman, after leaving college. During 
 the first half of the eighteenth century, the 
 custom grew up of subjecting the candidate 
 for the ministry to examination by a number 
 of ministers, and licensing him to preach as 
 candidate. Dr. Bellamy first introduced at 
 his house at Bethlem, Connecticut, the plan 
 of giving something like a regular course of 
 instruction to students in theology. A little 
 later the practice became quite general, 
 and was confirmed bv the gradual elimina- 
 tion of its theological character from the 
 course of study in the colleges. 
 
 The first separate theological school in the 
 TTnited States was that at Andover, founded 
 and opened in 1807. The thorough three 
 years' course of study here established soon 
 did away with the comparatively inefiicient 
 and superficial apprenticeship scheme, which 
 afforded a professional training of twelve, sis, 
 or even only three months. 
 
 Of previous departmental or imperfect 
 provisions for specific ministerial training, 
 should be mentioned the academy known as 
 " Log College," of Rev. William Tennent, at 
 
394 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 Neshaminy, Bucks country, Pa., opened about 
 1728 ; the preparatory school opened by Rev. 
 John Smith in the west of Pennsylvania in 
 lV78, afterward under Rev. J. Anderson, 
 D. D. ; William and Mary Collesj;e, which 
 included a professorship of divinity in ]693 ; 
 the foundation of the llollis professorship of 
 divinity at Harvard College in 1721; and 
 that of the Livingston professorship of di- 
 vinity at Yale College in 1746. 
 
 The table, altered into clironological succes- 
 sion from the American Almanac, 18G1, gives 
 the growth of this class of special schools. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 LAW SCHOOLS. 
 
 The professional education of colonial law- 
 yers was equally unscientific, with the excep- 
 tion of the few who obtained a legal educa- 
 tion at the Middle or Inner Temple in Lon- 
 don, those inns of court being the favorite 
 resorts of American students. Law, indeed, 
 was then scarcely considered a liberal science 
 in this country, and the profession was in 
 more than one instance discouraged or actu- 
 ally forbidden by colonial constitutions or 
 laws. Thus, in 1660, Virginia, by lier house 
 of burgesses, voted for " the total ejection 
 of mercenary attorneys ;" Massachusetts, in 
 1663, prohibited "usual and common attor- 
 neys in any inferior court," from being mem- 
 bers of the legislature ; and Locke's consti- 
 tution for Carolina permitted "no one to 
 plead another man's cause." The only pro- 
 fessional training between the college course 
 and actual practice was in the office of some 
 practitioner already established, where the 
 aspirant served for an indefinite period as 
 an attorney's clerk, usually learning to draw 
 instruments, and obtaining a desultory knowl- 
 edge of forms, technics and special pleading, 
 but very seldom pursuing any regulated 
 course of study or systematically mastenng 
 his subject. 
 
 The first separate institution for legal in- 
 struction was the celebrated law school at 
 Litchfield, Connecticut, established by Judge 
 Reeve in 1784, taught by him alone until 
 1798, then together with Judge Gould until 
 a little before Judge Reeve's death in 1823, 
 and afterward by Judge Gould alone until 
 1827. Seven hundred and fifty students in 
 all studied law in this school ; who, scattered 
 over the whole country, carried with them 
 
 and instilled into the profession at large the 
 idea of a special and sj'stematic training for 
 the practice of law. 
 
 We append a table, altered from the 
 American Almanac for 1861, of the existing 
 law schools or collegiate departments in tlie 
 United States, in the order of their founda- 
 tion. It should, however, be observed that 
 some legal .studies were included in the orig- 
 inal scheme of William and Mary College, 
 founded 1693, and the law course became 
 of some positive value by improvements 
 about 173U. Also, that a law professorship 
 was founded in the College of Philadelphia 
 in 1790; a professor of law appointed at 
 Yale College m 1801; and the Royall Pro- 
 fessorship of Law at Harvard, founded iu 
 1815, 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MEDICAL SCHOOLS. 
 
 Medical schools are of quite recent date ; 
 
 and the training of the young physician was 
 of a very irregular character during the 
 colonial period. Degrees of Doctor of Medi- 
 cine were possessed by a very few practising 
 physicians, who had studied at Edinburgh, 
 Leyden, or other European schools. The 
 few eminent physicians who were trained 
 exclusively in the colonies, were to a great 
 extent followers of a natural gift and ten- 
 dency, which went far to supply their lack 
 of school learning. Young men proposing 
 to become phj'sicians, practised in the offi- 
 ces and under the instruction of established 
 physicians. Down to the middle of the 18th 
 century, it was the frequent practice, in Con- 
 necticut, at least, to obtain a formal license 
 from the general court, which was conunonly 
 granted on petition of the aspirant, reinforced 
 by testimonials from the freemen of his town, 
 the town officers, or practising physicians. 
 Sometimes the only credentials of the begin- 
 ner, were the certificate of the physician with 
 whom he had studied. After college courses 
 of medical lectures were established, a license 
 from the faculty was given, which served in- 
 stead of the subsequent diploma. 
 
 The earliest collegiate medical department 
 in the United States was that of the Univer- 
 sity of Pennsylvania in 1765. Dr. Shippen 
 had lectured on anatomy in 1762. 
 
 We add a chronological table, altered from 
 the American Almanac for 1 861, of the medi- 
 cal schools of the United States. 
 
MILITARY AND NAVAL SCHOOLS. 
 
 395 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 MILITARY AND NAVAL SCHOOLS. 
 
 The experience of the Revolutionary war 
 occasioned a very general conviction among 
 the officers of the American army, of the 
 necessity for such a provision for the military 
 education of native officers as would relieve 
 the United States from a dependence upon 
 prof(!ssionally trained soldiers of foreign 
 birth. The idea of a military school of 
 some kind, to be connected with each United 
 States arsenal, was entertained at the close 
 of the war among the officers. 
 j In the spring of 1783, General Washing- 
 ion requested from a number of leading offi- 
 'cers, statements of their views on all subjects 
 connected with the peace establishment of 
 tlie United States army. In reply to this 
 request, Colonel Timothy Pickering, then 
 .quartermaster-general, drew up an able and 
 interesting memoir, which contains, it is be- 
 li.!veil, the first suggestion of a single central 
 [g )vernment military academy, and he also 
 suggested West I'oint as a proper location 
 for it. 
 
 President Washington's annual address to 
 ICongress of Decembers, ITOS, asks "wheth- 
 er a material feature in the improvement of a 
 system of national defence ought not to be 
 to afford an opportunity for the study of 
 those branches of the military art, which can 
 scarcely ever be attained by practice alone." 
 
 An act of Congress of May 9, 179-t, au- 
 thorized a corps of four battalions of artil- 
 lerists and engineers, to each of which were 
 to be attached eight cadets. This was the 
 first introduction into the military service of 
 the United States of this term, which may 
 be defined to signify a grade of officers be- 
 tween the highest non-commissioned officer, 
 a sergeant, and the lowest commissioned one, 
 an ensign. For the use of this corps and 
 calets, the secretary of war, Colonel I'icker- 
 I ing, was authorized to procure the necessary 
 books and apparatus. The secretary, in 
 ,1796, reports that this organization is im- 
 portant, and should be as stationary as prac- 
 ticable, with a view to instruction. 
 I President Washington's last annual speech 
 I to Congress, December, 179G, again urged 
 strongly the establishment of a military 
 academy. In April, 179S, the corps of artil- 
 lerists and engineers was increased by an 
 alditional regiment, and the number of 
 cadets enlarged to fifty-six. In July follow- 
 ing, four teachers were by Congress author- 
 
 ized to be employed in that regiment for in- 
 struction in science and art. Some officers 
 and men were collected at West Point, and 
 a sort of military school opened, which, how- 
 ever, acted with little efficiency, owing to 
 the want of preparatory training, and of or- 
 ganization. 
 
 Secretary of War McIIenry, in a report on 
 the organization of the army, made during 
 the expectation of a war with France, dated 
 December 24, 1798, lamented the want of 
 engineers and artillerists trained at home. 
 In January, 1800, the same officer laid be- 
 fore the President, who transmitted it to 
 Congress, a plan for establishing a military 
 academy. After referring to the imperfect 
 steps already taken in this direction, he pro- 
 ceeds to suggest that the proposed academy 
 shall consist of a " fundamental school," to 
 instruct in such departments of science as 
 are necessary in common in all the arms of 
 the military force ; and three special schools, 
 one of engineers and artillerists, one of 
 cavalry and infantry, and one of the navy. 
 The institution was to be in charge of a direc- 
 tor-general, four directors, twelve professors, 
 and nine other instructors. This school, so 
 far as Secretary McHenry recommended its 
 immediate establishment, was to accommo- 
 date annual classes of one hundred pupils 
 each, for courses of four and five years. 
 
 The Military Academy at West Point, ac- 
 cording to Colonel Williams' report in 1808, 
 was first opened in 1801, as a " mathemati- 
 cal school for the few cadets that were then 
 in service," and under a private citizen. In 
 1 802, an act of Congress separated the artil- 
 lerists and engineers, distributing the cadets 
 of the former class among the twenty com- 
 panies of that arm, and constituted the en- 
 gineers the Military Academy, making it 
 consist of seven officers and ten cadets. 
 
 The operations of the school continued to 
 be deficient in order and efficiency for some 
 years, still for want of proper and energetic 
 administration, and a well adjusted course 
 of stud}'. In 1812, it was much enlarged, 
 and its organization quite changed. The 
 period from 1817 to 1824, however, during 
 which a thorough course of theoretical and 
 practical studies, properly adapted to the 
 military profession, was for the first time in- 
 troduced, marks the establishment of the 
 academy as a military and scientific school 
 of high grade and value. 
 
 The academy, in 1860, was organized under 
 a superintendent, who is commandant of the 
 
398 
 
 KDUCATIOJ* AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 sociation of persons engaged and interested 
 in the business of instruction ;" and, in pur- 
 suance of its votes, an adjourned mectinj; 
 was held at Boston in August followintf, at 
 which its constitution and name were adopt- 
 ed, and its first course of lectures delivered. 
 It was incorporated in 1831 by the legislature 
 of Massachusetts, and has received an annual 
 grant from that state. Its series of annual 
 meetings is still continued, and its accom- 
 panying series of annual volumes of lectures 
 has now reached the .31st, and includes a 
 valuable mass of useful theoretical and 
 practical discussions. 
 
 During the period of educational interest 
 which produced the American Institute of 
 Instruction, many conventions and meetings 
 of teachers and friends of education assem- 
 bled in difterent p.arts of the country, to con- 
 sult and debate upon means of improvement 
 for schools and teachers. Among the more 
 earnest and efficient of these may be named 
 the Windham County (Conn.) Convention, 
 which met in 1S26; the Hartford Society 
 for the Improvement of Common Schools, 
 formed in \S21, and among whose members 
 were .Messrs. Hooker, Gallaudet,W. C. Wood- 
 bridge, and others ; the Pennsylvania Society 
 for the Promotion of Public Schools, formed 
 in 1828 ; and the Convention of the Teach- 
 ers of New York, which met at Utica in 
 1832. These bodies frequently possessed 
 scarcely more than an annual existence, meet- 
 mg from year to year in pursuance of a new 
 call. Their efforts, however, and the evident 
 capacities of such organizations for useful- 
 ness, led directly to the subsequent forma- 
 tion of that class of educational societies 
 known as " State Teachers' Associations." 
 Of these, the Massachusetts State Teachers' 
 Association, and the Rhode Island Institute 
 of Instruction, were organized in 1845 ; the 
 Ohio State Teachers' Association in 1847 ; 
 and others have followed, until at present 
 there are no less than twenty-seven State 
 Teachers' Associations, some of them acting 
 with remarkable efficiency for the profession- 
 al improvement of teachers. In connection 
 with these state bodies, county associations 
 exist in several states, some of them cnjoyino- 
 state aid, and many of them useful co-laborers 
 in the educational field with the state asso- 
 ciations with which they are affiliated. 
 
 The first proposition in this country for a 
 periodical to be devoted to education was 
 made by Rev. Samuel Bacon, a native of 
 Sturbridge, Massachusetts, who, in 1812, is-_ 
 
 sued the prospectus of a periodical, to be 
 known as The Academical Herald and Jour- 
 nal of JSducation. Mr. Bacon subsequent- 
 ly resumed this idea, but gave it up again 
 upon the appearance of the fir.st actual 
 American educational periodical, The Aca- 
 demician. This was a large octavo, issued 
 semi-monthly, at'^few York, durin<r the years 
 1818-19, and edited by Albert Picket and 
 John W. Picket, afterward the well-known 
 early influential members of the "Western 
 College of Teachers." 
 
 This field of labor now remained unoccu- 
 pied until the appearance of the Anurican 
 Jonriinl of Educalion, commenced January 
 1st, 1825, at Boston, Mr. T. B. Wait publish- 
 er, and edited by Professor William Russell. 
 With its continuation, the American Annals 
 of Education, this w ell-known and valuable 
 journal appeared until the end of 18.19, 
 completing an entire series of fourteen oc- 
 tavo volumes. 
 
 In January, 1836, appeared the first num- 
 ber of the Common School Assistant, a 
 quarto monthly, edited by J. Orville Taylor, 
 and which was published at Albany, and 
 afterward at New York, during four years 
 and four volumes, and part of a fifth, ending 
 in 1840. This periodical was energetically 
 and usefully edited, was taken and read 
 throughout the country, and did a good 
 work in its day and generation for the cause 
 of common schools. 
 
 Mr. Taylor also did much for the cause of 
 education by publishing a Common School 
 Almanac, and by delivering forcible and apt 
 addresses on educational subjects in many 
 states of the Union. 
 ^ In August, 1838, appeared at Hartford, 
 Connecticut, the first number of the quarto 
 Connecticut Common School Journal, edit- 
 ed by Henry Barnard, Secretary of the 
 Board of Commissioners of Common Schools. 
 This periodical was published during four 
 years, ending in consequence of the sn-ani,'e 
 reactionary rally which abolished the board 
 in 1842. It contained the state public edu- 
 cational documents of its day, beside a great 
 quantity of valuable selectitms and original 
 articles. A second series in octavo form was 
 commenced by Mr. Barnard in 1850, cover- 
 ing substantially the same ground, and con- 
 tinued by him until January, 1854, when he 
 surrendered its care to the Connecticut State 
 Teachers' Association, which still publishes 
 it. The interval between 1843 and 1860 
 was covered by the publication of the Jour- 
 
NORMAL SCHOOLS, ETC. 
 
 399 
 
 tmI of the Rhode Island Institute of Instruc- 
 tion, embodying tlie official documents and 
 action of Mr. Barnard in that state as com- 
 missioner of public achools. 
 
 In August, 1855, Mr. Barnard issued the 
 first number of his American Journal of 
 Jidncation, published at Hartford, quarterly, 
 in octavo. The plan contemplated a series 
 of at least ten volumes, of about 800 pages, 
 to constitute an encyclopaedia of educational 
 materials of permanent value, illustrative of 
 the history, biography, theory, and practice 
 of all departments of education, both in this 
 country and in other parts of the world, as 
 well as a record of cotemporary educational 
 facts and progress. In the progress of this 
 plan hitherto, the ten volumes already com- 
 pleted have included over 300 cuts on school 
 architecture, more than forty singularly fine 
 portraits of eminent American teachers and 
 educators, a still larger number of memoirs, 
 and over 1600 pages on the comparatively 
 new and most important department of 
 methodology. 
 
 The earliest suggestion of institutional 
 provision for the specific professional train- 
 ing of teachers seems to have been that of 
 Elisha Ticknor, in an article in the Massachu- 
 setts Magazine for June, 1789, for county 
 schools under able masters, to teach English 
 grammar, Latin, Greek, rhetoric, geography, 
 mathematics, etc., " in order to fit young 
 gentlemen for college and school keeping." 
 
 The first proposition for a separate and 
 exclusive teachers' seminary was, however, 
 set forth by the late Professor Denison Olm- 
 sted, in an oration at receiving bis master's 
 degree, at commencement, 1816, on the 
 " State of Education in Connecticut." This 
 was to be a state institution, to train teachers 
 for the state public schools. Professor Olm- 
 sted's prosecution of his plan was prevented 
 by his accepting a professorship in North 
 Carolina. 
 
 Seven years afterward, in March, 1823, 
 Rev. Samuel Read Hall opened at Concord, 
 Vermont, the first teachers' seminary in the 
 United States ; an unpretending little school, 
 planned in consequence of his own observa- 
 tions upon the wants of teachers, intended 
 for the improvement of teachers in and near 
 his own town, and including a model class 
 of juvenile pupils. 
 
 During the years 1824-5, Messrs. Thomas 
 H.Gallaudet of Hartford, Connecticut; James 
 G. Carter of Lancaster, Massachusetts; and 
 Walter R. Johnson of Germantown, Penn- 
 
 sylvania, issued various pamphlets and news- 
 paper articles, ably urging the necessity, 
 practicability, and advantages of institutions 
 for the professional training of teachers. 
 
 In February, 1826, a committee was ap- 
 pointed by the legislature of Massachusetts 
 to report a plan for an institution to instruct 
 in practical arts and sciences. This com- 
 mittee included in the plan recommended by 
 them a department for the professional train- 
 ing of teachers. This scheme was not, how- 
 ever, carried into operation. 
 
 In the next year, 182 7, Governor Clinton 
 recommended to the legislature of the state 
 of New York the establishment of a normal 
 school, and an act was passed for that pur- 
 pose. It was, however, strongly opposed by 
 Hon. John C. Spencer, who succeeded in 
 preventing it from going into operation, and 
 in causing the adoption instead of tlie plan 
 of teachers' departments in academies. 
 
 The earliest instance of a teachers' insti- 
 tute in this country, though not then so 
 named, was the experimental one gathered 
 at Hartford, Connecticut, in October, 1839, 
 by the means and at the expense of the then 
 superintendent of common schools in Con- 
 necticut, in order to prove the practicability 
 and usefulness of the plan. The result was 
 entirely satisfactory. A similar class, or 
 " temporary normal school," was successful- 
 ly conducted during eight weeks by Mr. 
 Stephen R. Sweet, at Kingsboro, Fulton 
 county. New York, commencing on the 6th 
 of September, 1842. J. S. Denman, Esq., 
 school superintendent of Tompkins county, 
 New York, urged a similar class upon the 
 attention of the Tompkins County Teachers' 
 Association in October, 1842, and a teach- 
 ers' institute, supposed bv him to be the 
 first in the state and in the world — and prob- 
 ably the first expressly so called — was open- 
 ed under his direction in that county in 
 April, 1843, and profitably conducted during 
 two weeks. 
 
 Institutes were held in many places in 
 New York during the following five years, 
 under the auspices of school officers and 
 teachers ; and at the end of that time, in 
 November, 1847, an act of the legislature 
 made them part of the legal school sys- 
 tem, and provided a trifling annual appro- 
 priation to aid in holding them in each 
 county. 
 
 Under the influence of earnest efforts by 
 teachers and educators during 1846, the 
 legislature of Connecticut, in May, 1847, 
 
398 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 sociation of persons engaged and interested 
 in the business of instruction ;" and, in pur- 
 suance of its votes, an adjourned meeting 
 was held at Boston in August following, at 
 which its constitution and name were adopt- 
 ed, and its first course of lectures delivered. 
 It was incorporated in 1831 by the legislature 
 of Massachusetts, and has received an annual 
 grant from that state. Its series of annual 
 meetings is still continued, and its accom- 
 panying series of annual volumes of lectures 
 has now reached the 31st, and includes a 
 valuable mass of useful theoretical and 
 practical discussions. 
 
 I'uring the period of educational interest 
 which produced the American Institute of 
 Instruction, many conventions and meetings 
 of teachers and friends of education assem- 
 bled in difi'ercnt parts of the country, to con- 
 sult and debate upon means of improvement 
 for schools and teachers. Among the more 
 earnest and efficient of these may be named 
 the Windham County (Conn.) Convention, 
 which met in 1826; the Hartford Society' 
 for the Improvement of Common Schools, 
 formed in 1827, and among whose members 
 were Messrs. Hooker, Gallaudet,W. C. Wood- 
 bridge, and others ; the Pennsylvania Society 
 for the Promotion of Public Schools, formed 
 in 1828 ; and the Convention of the Teach- 
 ers of New York, which met at Utica in 
 1832. These bodies frequently possessed 
 scarcely more than an annual existence, meet- 
 ing from year to year in pursuance of a new 
 call. Their efforts, however, and the evident 
 capacities of such organizations for useful- 
 ness, led directly to the subsequent forma- 
 tion of that class of educational societies 
 known as " State Teachers' Associations." 
 Of these, the Massachusetts State Teachers' 
 Association, and the Rhode Island Institute 
 of Instruction, were organized in 1845; the 
 Ohio State Teachers' Association in 1847 ; 
 and others have followed, until at present 
 there are no less than twenty-seven State 
 Teachers' Associations, some of them acting 
 with remarkable efficiency for the profession- 
 al improvement of teachers. In connection 
 with these state bodies, county associations 
 exist in several states, some of them enjoying 
 state aid, and many of them useful co-laborers 
 in the educational field with the state asso- 
 ciations with which they are affiliated. 
 
 The first proposition in this country for a 
 periodical to be devoted to education was 
 made by Rev. Samuel Bacon, a native of 
 Sturbridge, Massachusetts, who, in 1812, is- 
 
 sued the prospectus of a periodical, to be 
 known as The Academical Herald and Jour- 
 nal of Education. Mr. Bacon subsequent- 
 ly resumed this idea, but gave it up again 
 upon the appearance of the first actual 
 American educational periodical, The Aca- 
 demician. This was a large octavo, issued 
 semi-monthly, at Tfew York, during the years 
 1818-19, and edited by Albert Picket and 
 John W. Picket, afterward the well-known 
 early influential members of the " Western 
 College of Teachers." 
 
 This field of labor now remained unoccu- 
 pied until the appearance of the American 
 Journal of Education, commenced January 
 1st, 1825, at Boston, Mr. T. B. Wait publish- 
 er, and edited by Professor William Russell. 
 With its continuation, the American Annals 
 of Education, this well-known and valuable 
 journal appeared until the end of 1839, 
 completing an entire series of fourteen oc- 
 tavo volumes. 
 
 In January, 1836, appeared the first num- 
 ber of the Common School Assistant, a 
 quarto monthly, edited by J. Orville Taylor, 
 and which was published at Albany, and 
 afterward at New York, during four years 
 and four volumes, and part of a fifth, ending 
 in 1840. This periodical was energetically 
 and usefully edited, was taken and read 
 throughout the country, and did a good 
 work in its day and generation for the cause 
 of common schools. 
 
 Mr. Taylor also did much for the cause of 
 education by publishing a Common School 
 Almanac, and by delivering forcible and apt 
 addresses on educational subjects in many 
 states of the Union. 
 
 In August, 1838, appeared at Hartford, 
 Connecticut, the first number of the quarto 
 Connecticut Common School Journal, edit- 
 ed by Henry Barnard, Secretary of the 
 Board of Commissioners of Common Schools. 
 This periodical was published during four 
 years, ending in consequence of the strange 
 reactionary rally which abolished the board 
 in 1842. It contained the state public edu- 
 cational documents of its day, beside a great 
 quantity of valuable selections and original 
 articles. A second series in octavo form was 
 commenced by Mr. Barnard in 1850, cover- 
 ing substantially the same ground, and con- 
 tinued by him until January, 1854, when he 
 surrendered its care to the Connecticut State 
 Teachers' Association, which still publishes 
 it. The interval between 1843 and 1850 
 was covered by the publication of the Jour- 
 
NORMAL SCHOOLS, ETC. 
 
 399 
 
 {aZ of the Rhode Island Institute of Instruc- 
 lon, embodying tlie official documents and 
 etion of Mr. Barnard in that state as com- 
 lissioner of public achools. 
 
 In August, 1855, Mr. Barnard issued the 
 rst number of his American Journal of 
 Education, published at Hartford, quarterly, 
 1 octavo. The plan contemplated a series 
 f at least ten volumes, of about 800 pages, 
 o constitute an cncyclopa;dia of educational 
 aaterials of permanent value, illustrative of 
 (he history, biography, theory, and practice 
 'f all departments of education, both in this 
 ountry and in other parts of the world, as 
 ell as a record of cotemporary educational 
 acts and progress. In the progress of this 
 )lan hitherto, the ten volumes already com- 
 )leted have included over 3 00 cuts on school 
 irchitecture, more than forty singularly fine 
 jortraits of eminent American teachers and 
 ;ducators, a still larger number of memoirs, 
 md over ICOO pages on the comparatively 
 lew and most important department of 
 knethodology. 
 
 The earliest suggestion of institutional 
 provision for the specific professional train- 
 ing of teachers seems to have been that of 
 !Elisha Ticknor, in an article in the Massachu- 
 'setts Magazine for June, 1789, for county 
 'schools under able masters, to teach English 
 'grammar, Latin, Greek, rhetoric, geograph}', 
 •mathematics, etc., " in order to fit young 
 gentlemen for college and school keeping." 
 
 The first proposition for a separate and 
 exclusive teachers' seminary was, however, 
 set forth by the late Professor Denison Olm- 
 sted, in an oration at receiving his master's 
 degree, at commencement, 1816, on the 
 I" State of Education in Connecticut." This 
 Iwas to be a state institution, to train teachers 
 'for the state public schools. Professor Olm- 
 sted's prosecution of his plan was prevented 
 by his accepting a prol'essorship in North 
 I Carolina. 
 
 ' Seven years afterward, in March, ISS.*?, 
 Rev. Samuel Read Hall opened at Concord, 
 Vermont, the first teachers' seminary in the 
 United States ; an unpretending little school, 
 planned in consequence of his own observa 
 tions upon the wants of teachers, intended 
 for the improvement of teachers in and near 
 his own town, and including a model class 
 of juvenile pupils. 
 
 During the years 1824-5, Messrs. Thomas 
 
 H.Gallaudet of Hartford, Connecticut; James 
 
 G. Carter of Lancaster, Massachusetts ; and 
 
 I Walter R. Johnson of Germantown, Penn- 
 
 sylvania, issued various pamphlets and news- 
 paper articles, ably urging the necessity, 
 practicabilitv, and advantages of institutions 
 for the professional training of teachers. 
 
 In February, 1826, a committee was ap- 
 pointed by the legislature of Massachusetts 
 to report a plan for an institution to instruct 
 in practical arts and sciences. This com- 
 mittee included in the plan recommended by 
 them a department for the professional train- 
 ing of teachers. This scheme was not, how- 
 ever, carried into operation. 
 
 In the next year, 182 7, Governor Clinton 
 recommended to the legislature of the state 
 of New York the establishment of a normal 
 school, and an act was passed for that pur- 
 pose. It was, however, strongly opposed by 
 Hon. John C. Spencer, who succeeded in 
 preventing it from going into operation, and 
 in causing the adoption instead of the plan 
 of teachers' departments in academies. 
 
 The earliest instance of a teachers' insti- 
 tute in this country, though not then so 
 named, was the experimental one gathered 
 at Hartford, Connecticut, in October, 1839, 
 by the means and at the expense of the then 
 superintendent of common schools in Con- 
 necticut, in order to prove the practicability 
 and usefulness of the plan. Tlie result was 
 entirely satisfactory. A similar class, or 
 " temporary normal school," was successful- 
 ly conducted during eight weeks by Mr. 
 .Stephen R. Sweet, at Kingsboro, Fulton 
 county, New York, commencing on the 6th 
 of September, 1842. J. S. Denman, Esq., 
 school superintendent of Tompkins county. 
 New York, urged a similar class upon the 
 attention of the Tompkins County Teachers' 
 Association in October, 1842, and a teach- 
 ers' institute, supposed by him to be the 
 first in the state and in the world — and prob- 
 ably the first expressly so called — was open- 
 ed under his direction in that county in 
 April, 1843, and profitably conducted during 
 two weeks. 
 
 Institutes were held in man}' places in 
 New York during the following five years, 
 under the auspices of school officers and 
 teachers ; and at the end of that time, in 
 November, 1847, an act of the legislature 
 made them part of the legal school sys- 
 tem, and provided a trifling annual appro- 
 priation to aid in holding them in each 
 county. 
 
 Under the influence of earnest efforts by 
 teachers and educators during 1846, the 
 legislature of Connecticut, in May, 1847, 
 
400 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 made an appropriation wliich enabled the 
 superintendent, IJon. S. P. Beers, to provide 
 for the holding of institutes in each county 
 of the state in the following autumn ; and 
 they have since formed part of the state sys- 
 tem for training teachers. 
 
 Institutes were introduced into Massachu- 
 setts in the autumn of 1846, as part of the 
 comprehensive school reform which spread 
 through that state under Horace Mann's 
 secretaryship of the Board of Education. 
 Those of 1846 were held in consequence of 
 Hon. Edmund Dwight's gift of $1000 for 
 the purpose. In the next year the legisla- 
 ture appropriated a sum to continue the 
 plan, and they were thus incorporated into 
 the public school system of the state of 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 The economy and efficiency of this agency 
 in training teachers were so great asd mani- 
 fest, that they quickly spread into the other 
 eastern states, and into many of the middle 
 and western ones ; and at present may be 
 considered a fixed feature of the American 
 system of special training for teachers. In 
 1859, it was estimated that upward of 
 20,000 teachers were assembled under this 
 plan of organization for instruction in their 
 professional duties. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 SCHOOLS OF SCIEN'CE FOR ENGINEERS, 
 GEOLOGISTS, ETC. 
 
 For many years the government school 
 for training army officers, founded in 1802, 
 and known as the United States Military 
 Academy at West Point, stood alone as a 
 seminary for advanced education, in which 
 classical instruction yielded its pre-eminence 
 to mathematical and scientific culture. In 
 1824, the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute 
 was founded at Troy, N. Y., and furnished 
 civilians with the means of education in 
 some measure corresponding to but yet much 
 lower than the military school at West Point. 
 More than twenty years afterward, in 1840, 
 the corporation of Yale College established 
 two professorships, which soon formed the 
 nucleus of the Yale Scientific School ; and 
 about the same time a gift of $50,000, sub- 
 sequently increased to double that amount, 
 by Abbott Lawrence, enabled the corpora- 
 tion of Harvard University to establish in 
 1847 the Lawrence Scientific School. With- 
 
 in a short time Dartmouth College was en- 
 abled to go forward in the same direction, hy 
 a bequest of $50,000 received from Abiel 
 Chandler, at his decease in 1851, endowing 
 the Chandler Scientific School. As these 
 three institutions naturally form a group by 
 themselves, providing instruction of an ad- 
 vanced character in several diflerent branches 
 of science, a brief sketch will be given of i 
 each one ; but there are a variety of less ad- 
 vanced schools, and of schools devoted to a 
 single practical object, like the agricultural 
 schools at Lansing, Mich., and Ovid, N. Y, 
 which will be noticed under their appropri- 
 ate head. 
 
 In August, 1 846, the corporation of Yale 
 College established two professorships, one 
 of agricultural chemistry, the otlier of chem- 
 istry applied to the arts ; to the first of winch 
 was appointed John Pitkin Norton ; to the 
 latter Benjamin Silliman, Jr. At the same 
 time a committee was appointed to consider 
 the expediency of forming a " Department 
 of Philosophy and the Arts" in connection 
 with the university. In August, 1847, this 
 committee reported that it was expedient to 
 form such a department, for the instruction 
 of other than undergraduate students. Ac- 
 cordingly, the department was organized for 
 the purpose of providing instruction in philos- 
 ophy, philology, history and natural science, 
 etc. The branches of chemistry and engi- 
 neering were embraced in one section, under 
 the title of the Yale Scientific School. The 
 professors, before appointed, entered on their 
 duties in the autumn of 1847. In 1852, the 
 corporation established in this department 
 the degree of Bachelor of Philosophy, to be 
 conferred after a two years' connection with 
 the school, and a satisfactory examination m 
 at least three branches of study. In Septem- 
 ber, 1852, the school suffered a severe loss in 
 the death of its devoted friend. Professor J. 
 P. Norton, who bequeathed to it his collec- 
 tion of books and apparatus. New professor- 
 ships have from time to time been establish- 
 ed, and additional instructors appointed, but 
 the school has lacked until 1S6U suflicient 
 accommodations and the pecuniary means 
 necessary for expansion. By the liberality 
 of Joseph E. Sheffield, Esq., of New Haven, it 
 is now provided with a spacious building, 
 especially adapted to its purposes, and a 
 fund of $100,000 for sustaining its courses 
 of instruction. To the latter fund other gen- 
 tlemen have contributed. This building 
 (first opened in September, 1800) contains, 
 
SCIENTIFIC SCHOOLS. 
 
 401 
 
 besides the usual lecture rooms, extensive 
 analytical and niotallurgical laboratories, aiul 
 balls for agricultural and technological niusc- 
 lums. Opportunity is afforded in the school 
 ffor pursuing a general scientific course, ex- 
 itending through three years, or special 
 icourses in physics, cheinistiy, industrial me- 
 ichanics, and engineering, which occupy two 
 years each. 
 
 i The degree of Bachelor of Philosophy is 
 Inow conferred on those who have completed 
 'either the general course or one of the spe- 
 !cial courses in the scientific school, and have 
 I passed a satisfactory examination. The de- 
 'gree of Civil Engineer is conferred on thosr 
 iwho have completed, besides the special 
 ! course in engineering, a higher course of one 
 I year. It is also proposed to confer a higher 
 ': degree, that of Doctor of Philosophy, on 
 i those who in their residence and their schol- 
 I arship conform to the requirements of the 
 I department. In February, 1860, a course 
 1 of agricultural lectures was given under the 
 ' patronage of the school. The faculty of the 
 I school now consists of the president of' the 
 I college, a professor of civil engineering, a 
 I professor of natural history, a professor of 
 [ general and applied chemistry, a professor 
 of industrial mechanics and physics, a pro- 
 fessor of organic chemistry, a professor of 
 modern languages, a professor of metallurgy, 
 and a professor of analytical and agricultural 
 chemistry, besides certain assistants. 
 
 In 1846, the project of a Scientific School, 
 to be connected witli Harvard University, 
 was first publicly announced, and the plans 
 laid before Hon. Abbott Lawrence of Bos- 
 ton, a distinguished merchant of wealth and 
 public spirit. In June, 1847, he offered to 
 the college the munificent sum of $50,- 
 000, " for the purpose of teaching the prac- 
 tical sciences." This gift was to be ap- 
 plied for the erection of suitable buildings, 
 and the purchase of apparatus, the residue 
 to form a fund for the support of profes- 
 sors. 
 
 Oi\ this foundation the school was com- 
 menced the same year ; Professor Horsford, 
 already connected with the university, filling 
 the chair of chemistry ; Professor Agassiz, 
 of Switzerland, being called to that of zoology 
 and geology, and Lieut. Eustis, of the army, 
 to that of engineering. In 1849, a labora- 
 tory, then unsurpassed even in Europe in its 
 conveniences for practical instruction, was 
 erected and furnished ; and in 1850 a build- 
 ing was constructed for the temporary accom- 
 
 modation of the departments of zoology, 
 geology, and engineering. Besides the pro- 
 fessors already mentioned, instruction is given 
 by the college professors in mathematics, 
 physics, bofan3% comparative anatomy and 
 physiology, and mineralogy. The school is 
 essentially a combination of independent de- 
 partments, each having exclusive control of 
 its own internal arrangements, and sustain- 
 ing a complete course of instruction for it- 
 self. At the death of Mr. Lawrence, August 
 18, 1855, the school received by bequest, as 
 a second gift, the sum of $50,000, to increase 
 its facilities for instruction and research. 
 Connection with the school for at least a 
 single year, in attendance on the prescribed 
 course of studies, in one or more depart- 
 ments, and a satisfactory public examination, 
 are essential to takinir the degree of Bachelor 
 of Science. 
 
 An estate valued at $.350,000 was be- 
 queathed to Harvard College in 1842 by 
 Mr. Benjamin Bussey, of Roxbury, Mass. (to 
 be received after the death of certain rela- 
 tives), one half of which, including his man- 
 sion and farm, was to be appropriated to the 
 establishment of an agricultural school under 
 the direction of the college. 
 
 The Chandler Scientific School, connected 
 with Dartmouth College, at Hanover, N. II., 
 was established in 1851, in acceptance of a 
 gift of $50,000, bequeathed to the trustees, 
 for this purpose, by Abiel Chandler. He 
 was a wealthy merchant of Boston, Mass., 
 who was born in 1778 in Concord, N. II, 
 and died in Walpolo, N. H., March 22d, 
 1851. By the will of the founder, instruc- 
 tion is to be given in " mechanics and civil 
 engineering, the invention and manufacture 
 of machinery, carpentry, masonry, archi- 
 tecture, and drawing, the investigation of 
 properties and uses of materials employed 
 in the arts, the modern languages, and 
 English literature, together with bookkeep- 
 ing!" The school was opened in 1852, 
 and the course of study occupies four j-ears ; 
 for the general course in the fourth year, 
 may be substituted a civil engineering course 
 or a commercial course. 
 
 Those completing the regular course of 
 four years, and passing a satisfactory exam- 
 ination, are entitled to the degree of Bach- 
 elor of Science. 
 
 Resident graduates will be instructed in 
 the following advanced subjects, through an 
 additional course of one or two years : An- 
 alytical chemistry, analytical and celestial 
 
402 
 
 EDUCATIOtf AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 mechanics, application of raeclianics to car- 
 pentry and masonry, mechanical agents, 
 geodesy, practical astronomy, the arts of 
 design with reference to the useful arts. 
 
 The demand for instruction in chemistry 
 beyond the requirements of the general col- 
 lege course, has led to a modification of the 
 requirements of many of our colleges and 
 universities. Among the schools included 
 in the University of Virginia, is one of 
 chemistry, in which department a systemat- 
 ic course of practical instruction is given in 
 qualitative and quantitative analysis. The 
 laboratory is open, and an instructor gives 
 his personal attention to the students there- 
 in, for eight hours daily, five days in the 
 week 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SCHOOLS OF AGRICULTURE. 
 
 The first plan of an agricultural school or 
 college ill the English language, which we 
 have met with, was published in 1651 by 
 "Master Samuel Hartlib," to whom Milton 
 addressed his Tractate on Education, and to 
 whom the Parliament of England gave a 
 pension for his disinterested efforts to ad- 
 vance the agricultural and educational inter- 
 ests of the commonwealth. It was nearly 
 two hundred years before an institution of 
 this character was established by individual 
 enterprise, without the aid of any public 
 grant, in the British dominions. 
 
 The Agricultural College of the State of 
 Michigan was established in 1855, in accord- 
 ance with a provision of the revised consti- 
 tution of the state, adopted in 1850. The 
 legislature in 1855, and again in 1857, pro- 
 vided for the purchase of land and the en- 
 dowment and management of the institution. 
 A tract of 676 acres, lying three and a half 
 miles east from Lansing, the state capital, 
 was purchased, and a building with accom- 
 modations for 80 pupils was erected and 
 dedicated May 13th, 1857. The faculty in- 
 cludes a president, and professors of mathe- 
 matics, chemistry, physiology and entomol- 
 ogy, natural science, English literature, and 
 farm economy and horticulture. The tui- 
 tion is free (except a matriculation fee of 
 $5), and the students are required to labor 
 three hours a day on the farm, for which 
 they receive a compensation which is allow- 
 ed in payment of board. The course of 
 professional instruction embraces two years. 
 
 and includes — I. Theory and Practice of 
 Agriculture — II. Agricultural Chemistry — 
 III. Civil and Rural Engineering — IV. Bot- 
 any and Vegetable Physiology — V. Zoology 
 and Animal Physiology. There is a pre- 
 paratory course of one year, designed for 
 candidates who have not pursued elsewhere 
 the preliminary studies required in English 
 language, geography and arithmetic, for 
 entrance. 
 
 The State University of Michigan at Ann 
 Arbor provides a scientific course, occupy- 
 ing four years, and embracing mathematics, 
 astronomy, geology, zoology, botany, chem- 
 istry, mineralogy, philosophy, rhetoric, his- 
 tory and Tnodern languages. The School of 
 Engineering, connected with the institution, 
 receives students who have completed the 
 second and third years of the scientific 
 course, and devotes two years to their in- 
 struction in engineering. The only charge 
 to the student, from whatever part of the 
 country he may come, is an admission fee 
 of ten dollars. 
 
 The Maryland Agricultural College was 
 established and endowed by the state legis- 
 lature in 1856. The college farm is about 
 two and a half miles north of Bladensburg, 
 in Prince George's count)'. The faculty in- 
 cludes a president, and five professors, viz.: 
 one of the science of agriculture, includ- 
 ing chemistry, geology, etc. ; one of the ex- 
 act sciences, one of languages, one of phi- 
 losophy, history, etc., and one of natural 
 history, botany, etc. The student, in cou- 
 nection with his course, is obliged to labor 
 on the farm. 
 
 The agricultural college now established 
 near Ovid, Seneca Co., N. Y., took its rise 
 from plans started as early as 1837. No- 
 thing definite was accomplished until, in 
 1 844, a charter for an agricultural collegft 
 was obtained from the legislature ; after fur- 
 ther delays, in 1856, the sum of 140,00? 
 was appropriated to the college by the legis- 
 lature, on condition that a like sum be raised 
 by private subscription. ' This was speedily 
 accomplished, and a tract of some 4U0 acres 
 purchased. Preparation is making for the 
 accommodation of a large number of pupils. 
 
 The Farmers' High Schocil of Pennsyl- 
 vania was founded by the agricultural society 
 of the state, with a fund of $10,000, accu- 
 mulated from its annual exhibitions up to 
 the autumn of 1854. The legislature passed 
 an act of incorporation, and a board of trus- 
 tees was organized ; after vai ious private 
 
COMMERCIAL SCHOOLS — SCHOOLS FOR MECHANICS. 
 
 403 
 
 sbscriptions, the legislature appropriated in 
 J!58 the sum of $50,000 to the school, 
 lilt' of which sum being dopemlent on the 
 fising of a like amount by individual con- 
 ribution. In 1856, the suitable farm-build- 
 jgs were erected on lands given to the 
 pool. 
 
 CHArTER XIV. 
 
 COMMEHCIAL SCHOODB. 
 
 "Commercial schools," which supply an 
 lucation adapted to future business life, and 
 1 make up in some measure for previous dc- 
 
 iencies in the studies of youths early de- 
 )ted to trade, are a class of schools of quite 
 
 cent date; none of them, it is believed, 
 eing of a greater age than fifteen or twenty 
 ears. They are naturally established in the 
 irger and busier mercantile cities, and their 
 ourse of study, of course a comparatively 
 Irief and confined one, usually includes but 
 Ittle if any of classics and literature, con- 
 isting principally of writing, book-keeping, 
 pmmorcial arithmetic, business proceedings, 
 |nd sometimes mercantile law. Their ex- 
 ttence seems to indicate a deficiency in their 
 lepartment, in the higher public schools, 
 llthough those schools could not afford a 
 imilar course of equal extent and thorough- 
 less. But there is no doubt that a compe- 
 3nt course of studies preparatory to com- 
 jcrcial life, should form part of the course 
 f the high schools of our cities and large 
 usiness towns. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 SCHOOLS FOR MECHANICS. 
 
 During nearly half a century, many in- 
 lications may be traced of a more or less 
 listinct feeling of the need of some systcm- 
 itic instruction in mechanic arts, although 
 ^.his feeling has not been so extensive and 
 iecided as to result in any permanent iusti- 
 -utional provision for the purpose. 
 
 The Lyceum movement, in which Josiah 
 [lolbrook was so active a laborer, commenc- 
 ing about 1823, was accompanied by the 
 mstitution of many courses of lectures and 
 :lasses upon subjects connected with me- 
 chanics and trades. The Mechanics' School 
 of New York City, an institution still exist- 
 
 ing, was originally intended to afford instruc- 
 tion, among other things, in mechanical pro- 
 cesses and the application of mechanical 
 principles. 
 
 A movement was made in the legislature 
 of Massachusetts, in 1825, for the establish- 
 ment of a state institution for the professional 
 training of youth intending to follow " mer- 
 cantile, manufacturing, and mechanical pur- 
 suits."' Though advocated with some earn- 
 estness during several sessions, this plan 
 never reached a practical development. 
 
 The " manual lalior schools," of which a 
 considerable number were established a few 
 years later, frequently provided for the prac- 
 tice of some mechanical trade, usually car- 
 pentr}-. Such was the ciise at Lane Semi- 
 nary and at the Oneida Institute, both found- 
 ed in 1829, and elsewhere. 
 
 Somewhat more extensive w.as the plan of 
 the Franklin Institute of Philadelphia, which 
 established in 1826 a high school, of which 
 it was a special object to " afi'ord the indus- 
 trial classes cheap instruction in sciences and 
 arts." This institution flourished under the 
 energetic management of Professor W. R. 
 Johnson, and until superseded by the intro- 
 duction of the present school system of 
 Philadelphia, with its high school, which 
 has not, however, retained this practical de- 
 partment. 
 
 Brief courses of lectures, to apprentices, 
 or to mechanics, were organized at various 
 points, as a consequence of the Lyceum 
 movement. Where these have been main- 
 tained as an annual institution, however, 
 their distinctive, practically useful character 
 has invariably disappeared in the merely 
 amusing dissipation which is the only object 
 of the present " lecture system." 
 
 There exist at present in Philadelphia and 
 Brooklyn schools known as " Polytechnic 
 Schools ;" but this name seems to have been 
 chosen as well adapted to catch the ear, 
 rather than as descriptive of any thing pecu- 
 liar in their course of study. 
 
 Some provision for systematic instruction 
 in the mechanic arts, of a higher grade than 
 the pure realism of the shop, is certainly 
 needed. Departments of this character at- 
 tached to the higher public schools of our 
 larger towns would unquestionably serve a 
 very useful purpose, and would command a 
 certain number of pupils. At the same 
 time it must be confessed that this number 
 would not immediately be great ; a fact 
 readily accounted for by the two considera- 
 
404 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 tions, that the peculiar conditions of life in 
 the' United States strongly disincline the 
 young to apply themselves long or closely to 
 the acquirement of a finished mastery of any 
 occupation, and that it would be extremely 
 difficult to supply instructors qualified to ex- 
 plain and teach the actual practical applica- 
 tion to wood, stone, metal, and other mate- 
 rials, of true scientific princijiles in the most 
 economical way. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 FINE ARTS. 
 
 In modern civilization, culture in fine arts 
 (music, painting, sculpture, architecture) is 
 the attribute and privilege of an advanced 
 stage of social organization. The people of 
 the United States, hitherto intensely oc- 
 cupied in subduing a new countr}', and in a 
 vigorous and prosperous pursuit of material 
 wealth, have at the present day but just be- 
 gun those vast accretions of capital, which 
 must form the basis of any culture in fine 
 arts worthy of the name. To none of these 
 arts has great attention been given, and for 
 teaching them nothing like a general public 
 provision has been made. 
 
 During the last thirty years, the practice 
 has slowly gained ground among the public 
 schools, both in city and country, of afford- 
 ing the pupils some instruction and training 
 in the rudiments of singing. In a far small- 
 er number of schools, similar rudimentarv 
 instruction has been given in drawing; and 
 in one or two secondary schnols of the high- 
 er city class, pupils have been aftbrded the 
 means of pursuing that stnd\' further, by 
 means of collections of casts and models. 
 
 Generally speaking, however, the aspirant 
 after a profound or even competent knowl- 
 edge of an J' fine art, has been left to acquire 
 it either by his own unassisted and solitary 
 labor, by the aid of some older practitioner, 
 or by study in foreign schools of art. 
 
 The progress of the study of music in our 
 schools, is coincident with the career of the 
 distinguished teacher, Lowell Mason, who 
 was the first to introduce into the school 
 system an efficient mode of teaching singing, 
 about 18:W. Of musical schools oxciusi\elv. 
 it is believed that there have not been more 
 than two, both of which are in Connecticut. 
 Private schools for gitls usually afford their 
 pupils more or less training in executing 
 
 music upon the piano-forte, but without 
 communicating any scientific knowledge of 
 music. 
 
 Within a recent period, several schools 
 have been opened in a few of the larjjer 
 cities, for instruction in drawing; always 
 having the pi'actical side most prominent, 
 and leading their pupils as ra]iidlv as possi- 
 ble toward the production of salable designs 
 for manuf^acturing purposes, or of wood en- 
 gravings for the use of publishers. A super- 
 ficial practice in drawing, usually by the 
 senseless method of exclusively copying 
 other drawings or engravings, is commonly 
 afi'oi'ded at private schools for girls. Some 
 small advantages for those desiring more ad- 
 vanced acquirements, are aftbrded by tlie 
 various public galleries iind collections acces- 
 sible in some large cities. The painter or 
 sculptor, as well as the architect, must how- 
 ever learn his art from such sources as his 
 individual opportunities allow him to com- 
 mand. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 FEMALE EDUCATION. -^ 
 
 The education of girls is of course not 
 properly a special department any more than 
 that of boys. Still, the history and the 
 present condition of this department of edu- 
 cation present many facts which will suffi- 
 ciently justify its separate treatment, aside 
 from the intrinsic diftereuces which must also 
 characterize it. 
 
 Until a comparatively recent period, but 
 trifling provision was made for the education 
 of girls. Down to the close of the Revolu- 
 tion, although girls might attend the public 
 schools, but a small share of time or labor 
 was devoted to them ; and their attention 
 was supjiosed to be more suitably directed to 
 needle-work and housewiFery than to intel- 
 lectual training. 
 
 The first school of eminence exclusively 
 for girls was the Moravian Seminary at Beih- 
 lehem, Pennsylvania. This was established as 
 early as 1 749, but was not opened .ms a board- 
 ing-school until 178j. It enjoyed a national 
 reputation ; and its catalogue includes such 
 names as Lansing, Livingston, Bayard, Sum- 
 ter, and many others from the whole range 
 of states. It was never more flourishuig 
 than ill ISGO. 
 
 It has been claimed that President Dwight, \ 
 in his school at Greenfield, opened in 1783, 1 
 
FKMALB KDUCATION. 
 
 405 
 
 was the first in the country to admit pupils 
 of both sexes to an entire equality of intel- 
 lectual training. In any event, both this 
 school end his previous one at Northampton 
 afforded to both boys and girls an education 
 of uncommon value for the period. 
 
 When that famous teacher, Caleb Bingham, 
 removed to Boston, in 1784, he did so with 
 the design of opening there a school for girls, 
 who were, singularly enough, at that time ex- 
 cluded from the public schools. Jlr. Bing- 
 ham's enterprise was successful, and was also 
 the means of revolutionizing the unfair school 
 syst:>m of the city, and of introducing a plan 
 which, though variously imperfect, at least 
 provided some public instruction for girls. 
 
 In 1792, Miss Pierce opened a school for 
 girls at Litchfield, Connecticut, which con- 
 tinued in operation for forty years, and edu- 
 cated largo numbers of young ladies from all 
 parts of the country. In the same year, at 
 Philadelphia, was incorporated one of the 
 first, if not the first, female academies in this 
 country. 
 
 From about 1797 to 1800, Rev. William 
 Woodbridge, father of the well-known au- 
 thor and educator W. C. Woodbridge, taught 
 a young ladies' school, at first at Norwich, 
 and afterward at Middletown, Conn. 
 
 In 1816, Mrs. Emma Willard commenced 
 her endeavors to secure for women the op- 
 portunity of acquiring a grade of education 
 corresponding to that which colleges furnish 
 to the other sex. The eminent success and 
 excellence of her celebrated school at Troy 
 are well known; and an important conse- 
 quence of her labors was, that female semi- 
 naries were admitted to receive aid from the 
 literature fund of the state of New York, 
 on the same terms with the academies. 
 
 From 1818 to 1830, Picv. Joseph Emerson 
 conducted a young ladies' school of high rep- 
 utation and efficiency, successively at Byfield 
 and Saun-us, Mass., and Wethersfield, Conn. 
 In 1823, George B. Emerson, Esq., opened 
 a young ladies' school at Boston, probably 
 with a more complete and efficient outfit and 
 apparatus than any which had preceded it. 
 
 The well-known school of John Kingsbury, 
 Esq., an institution of similar grade and ex- 
 cellence, was opened at Providence, K. I., in 
 18-28. 
 
 In 1822, Miss Catherine E. Beecher open- 
 ed a school for young ladies at Hartford, 
 Conn., which she conducted with eminent 
 success for ten years. She afterward taught 
 for a short period at Cincinnati, but her la- 
 
 bors for female education have subsequently 
 consisted in various publications, and in the 
 management of an extended scheme for a 
 system of Christian female education, inclu- 
 ding a national board, high schools, and nor- 
 mal schools ; which has resulted in the es- 
 tablishment of several valuable institutions. 
 
 In 1825, at Wilbraham, Mass., was open- 
 ed the first of the Methodist Conference 
 seminaries ; institutions whose plan has sub- 
 stantially followed that of the Wilbraham 
 Seminary, which was drawn up bj- Rev. Wil- 
 bur Fiske, its first principal. 
 
 Miss Z. P. Grant and Miss Mary Lyon, 
 both pupils of Rev. Joseph Emerson, were 
 associated in the conduct of an excellent 
 school for young ladies at Ipswich, Mass. 
 The energetic and persevering labors of Miss 
 Lyon, with the purpose of establishing a per- 
 manent Protestant school of high grade for 
 young ladies, resulted in the establishment 
 of the celebrated seminary at South Iladley, 
 which was opened in 1837. 
 
 The present era in the history of female edu- 
 cation in the United States is perhaps most 
 strikingly characterized by the number of 
 large and largely endowed institutions of a 
 high grade, which have been established in 
 various parts of the country. One -of them is 
 the Mount Uolyoke Female Seminary, at 
 South Iladley, just mentioned. The Packer 
 Collegiate Institute at Brooklyn, N. Y., an- 
 other of them, had previously existed as the 
 B:'ooklyn Institute ; and received its present 
 n.amc in consequence of the munificent gift 
 of 88.5,000 by Mrs. Harriet L. Packer of tliat 
 city. The whole property represents a value 
 of §1.50,000. A still more magnificent en- 
 dowment is that of the Vassar Female Col- 
 lege at Poughkeepsie, N. Y., for which the 
 vast sum of $408,000 has been given by 
 Matthew Vassar, Esq., of that city. 
 
 A characteristic of the female education 
 of the present period is the practice of ad- 
 mitting pupils of both sexes to institutions 
 for secondary and superior education; to the 
 high schools of cities, to academies, to the 
 normal schools, and even in one or two in- 
 stitutions of the collegiate grade. Another 
 one is the increasing regard which is paid to 
 the employment of female teachers, and to 
 their thorough preparatory training f ir that 
 duty, in institutiiins partly or wholly for that 
 purpose. On the whole, the department of 
 foinale education is, at present, attracting as 
 much attention, a:id improving as rapidly, 
 as any other. 
 
406 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAl, INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 SCHOOL-HOUSES, APPARATUS, AND TEXT- 
 BOOKS. 
 
 In no department of instruction has the 
 work of improvement been so general, so 
 rapid, or so thorough as in the material 
 outfit of the school. Within a quarter of 
 
 a century a revolution has been wrought 
 in public opinion and action in respect 
 to the location, construction, ventilation, 
 warming, furniture, and equipment gener- 
 ally, of school-houses, and more than thir- 
 ty-five millions of dollars have been ex- 
 pended for these objects withiu this short 
 period. 
 
 SCHOOL-HOUSES AS THET WERE. 
 
SCHOOL-HOUSES, APPARATUS, AND TEXT-BOOKS. 
 
 407 
 
 SCHOOL HOUSES AS THEY ARE. 
 
 COUNTRY DISTRICT SCUOOL-IIOUSE. 
 
 TILLAGE SCHOOL-HOUSa 
 
^ 
 
111 't ' 'F — F'^v Ks. "^-ir^ 
 
 |i '" 
 
PACKER FEMALE COLLEGIATE INSTITUTE. 
 
 Fig- 3. Interior of Chapku 
 
SCHOOL-HOUSES, APPARATUS, AND TEXT-BOOKS. 
 
 413 
 
 I SCHOOL-BOOKS. 
 
 The improvement in the authorsliip and manufacture of text-books, from the Primer 
 to the Manuals of our colleges and scientific schools, within the last half centurv is im- 
 mense. We will refresh the memory of some of our readers by reproducing a few 
 of the tough subjects and illustrations with which they or their fathers were painfully 
 familiar. 
 
 The Horn-hook. 
 
 Few of us have had the satisfaction of learning our letters after the manner de- 
 scribed by Prior :— 
 
 "To master John the Enprlish maid 
 A Horn-book gives of giii}j;erbreaij; 
 And that the child may learn tlie better, 
 As he can name, he eats the letter." 
 
 To many, even a picture of the old-fashioned Horn-book — the Primer of onr ancestors, 
 consisting of a single leaf pasted on a board, and covered in some instances with thin 
 
 nOKN-BOOK OF THE ElUUTEBNTH CEXTURT. 
 
 tr.insparent horn to preserve it from being torn or soiled — will be new. The following 
 description and the accompanying cut we copy from Barnard's American Journal of 
 Educitiort. for March, 1860:^ 
 
 Shcnstone, who was taught to read at a dame school near Halesowen, in Shropshire, in 
 
414 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 his dcliu'litfully quaint poem of the Schoolmistress, commemorating his venerable precep- 
 tress, thus records the use of the Horn-book : — 
 
 " Lo I now witli state slie utters lier command ; 
 Kftsoons tlie urcliins to their tasks repair; 
 Tlieir books of stature small tliey take iu hand, 
 Wliich with pellucid liorn secured are 
 To save from finger wet the letters fair." 
 
 Cowper thus describes the Ilorn-book of his time : — 
 
 " Neatly secured from being soiled or torn 
 Beneath a pane of thin translucent horn, ~ ~ 
 
 A book (to please us at a tender age 
 'Tis called a book, though but a single page). 
 Presents the prayer the Saviour deigned to teach, 
 Which children use, and parsons — when they preach." 
 
 Tirocinium, or a Review of Schools, 1784. 
 
 In " Specimens of West Coiuitnj Dialect," the use of the Horn-book is thus shown; — 
 " Commether Billy Chubb, an breng the liorncn boolc. Gee nia the vester in tha 
 ■n'indor, yor Pal came! — What! be a sleepid — I'll wake ye. Now, Billy, there's a good 
 bway ! Ston still there, and mind what I da za to ye, an whaur I da point. Now ; criss- 
 cross, girt a, little a — b — c — d. That's right, Billy; you'll zoon lorn the criss-cross- 
 lain ; you'll zoon auvergit Bobby Jiffry — you'll zoon be a scholanl. A's a pirty chubby 
 bway — Lord lov'n !" 
 
 ^cw England Primer. 
 
 Of the New England Primer we can give 
 no earlier specimen than the edition of \111; 
 embellished with a portrait of John Han- 
 cock, Esq., who was at that time President 
 of the Continental Congress. 
 
 The Honorable JOHN HANCOCK, Efq; 
 Prefident of the American Congress. 
 
 We must not omit the painfully interest- 
 ing group of John Rogers in the burning 
 faffffots, with his wife and nine or ten chil- 
 dren — including the one at the breast — a 
 problem which has puzzled many a school- 
 boy's brain : 
 
 'R. JohnRooers, minifter of the 
 gofpel in London, was the firtl mar- 
 tyr in Queen Mary's reign, and was 
 burnt at Smithfield, February 14, 1554.— His 
 wife with nine small children, and one at 
 her breast following him to the Itake ; with 
 which forrowful fijjhi he w:-s not in the 
 leart daunted, but with woinUrful patience 
 died coun-.guoufly for the gofpel o!" J E s u » 
 
 C H K I S T . 
 
SCHOOL-HOUSES, APPARATUS, AND TEXT-BOOKS. 
 
 415 
 
 Wc are fortunate in being able to present our readers witb an exact transcript of the 
 >iir paijes of the first illustrated alphabet printed in this countr}'. Some of our readers 
 uav recognize their old friends of the later editions of the Primer, in which " Young 
 fimothy" and ''Zaccheus he" were drawn to nature less severely true. The whole 
 belongs to that department of literature which " he who runs may read, and he who reads 
 Will run." 
 
 In Adam's Fall 
 We fmned all. 
 
 Heaven to find, 
 Th.e Bible Mind. 
 
 Chrifl crucify'd 
 For finners dy'd. 
 
 The Deluge drown'd 
 The Earth around. 
 
 Elijah hid 
 By Ravens fed. 
 
 The judgment made 
 Felix afraid. 
 
 C 
 
 Q 
 
 i; 
 
 X o A H did view 
 The old world & new 
 
 Young O B A D I A s, 
 David, Jo. s IAS 
 All wore pious. 
 
 P F T E R deny'd 
 His Lord and cry'd. 
 
 Queen E s i h e r fues 
 And faves the Jews. 
 
 Young pious Ruth, 
 Lelt all lor Truth. 
 
 Young S A M ' l dear 
 The Lord did fear. 
 
 As runs the Glass, 
 Our Life doth pass. 
 
 My Book and Heart 
 Must never part. 
 
 Job feels the Rod, — 
 Yet bleffes GOD. 
 
 Proud Korah's troop 
 Was fwallowed up 
 
 Lot fled to Zoar, 
 Saw fiery Shower 
 On Sodom pour. 
 
 Moses was he 
 Who IsraePs Hoft 
 Led thro' the Sea. 
 
 vV 
 
 X 
 
 Y 
 
 Young Timothy 
 Learnt fin to fly. 
 
 V A s T H I for Pride, 
 Was fet afide. 
 
 Whales in the Sea, 
 GOD's Voice obey. 
 
 Xerxes did die. 
 And fo mufl I. 
 
 While youth do chcar 
 Death may be near. 
 
 ZACcnEiisha 
 Did climb the Tree 
 Our Lord to fee. 
 
416 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 WEBSTER'S SPELLING BOOK. 
 
 Few books liave done more to give uniformity to the orthography of the language or 
 to fill the memory of successive generations with wholesome truths than Webster's Spell- 
 ing Book. Who can forget his first introduction to those four-and-twenty cliaractcrs, 
 standing in stiff upright columns, in their roman and italic dress, beginning with Utile a, 
 and ending with that nondescript ^^ and per se ;" or his first lesson in combining letters, 
 
 bu 
 
 by 
 
 ba be bi bo 
 
 Or his joy in reaching words of two syllables, 
 
 ba ker bri er ci der 
 
 Or his exultation in learning to "know his duty" in those " Lessons of Easy Words" be- 
 ginning, 
 
 No man may put off the law of God : 
 Or the more advanced steps, both in length of words and stubborn morality, in pursuit of 
 
 The wicked flee 
 And closing his spelling career with 
 
 And 
 
 Om 
 
 Mich 
 
 Ail 
 Ale 
 
 pom 
 il 
 
 pa noo 
 11 mack 
 
 sue 
 a nack 
 
 to be troubled 
 malt liquor 
 
 In this hasty glance at this famous text book, we have designedly passed over the fa^ 
 bles commencing with the Rude Boy and ending with Poor Tray, that we might intro- 
 duce them all unabridged with their unique illustrations. 
 
 Of the Boy thatJioU Apples. 
 
 AN old man found a rude boy upon 
 one of his trees ftealing Apples, and de- 
 fired him to come down; but the young 
 Sauce-box told him plainly he would 
 not. Won't you .? faid the old Man, 
 then I will fetch you down ; fo he pulled 
 up fome tufts of Grafs, and threw at 
 him ; but this only made the Youngfter 
 laugh, to think the old Man (hould pre- 
 tend to beat him down from the tree 
 with grafs only. 
 
 Well, well, faid the old Man, if nei- 
 ther words nor grafs will do, I muft try 
 what virtue there is in Stones ; fo the 
 old Man pelted him heartily with ftones; 
 
 which foon made the young Chap haften down from the tree and beg the old Man's pardon. 
 
 MORAL. 
 
 If good words and gentle means will not reclaim the wicked, they muft be dealt with in a 
 more fevere manner. 
 
WEBSTER 8 SPELLING BOOK. 
 
 417 
 
 The Country Maid and her Milk Pail. 
 
 WHEN men fufFer their imagination 
 to amufe them, with the profpeit of dif- 
 tant and uncertain improvements of their 
 condition, they frequently fuftain real 
 lofles, by their inattention to thofe affairs 
 in which they are immediately concern- 
 ed. 
 
 A country Maid was walking very de- 
 liberately with a pail of milk upon her 
 head, when fhe fell into the following 
 train of refleftions : The money for 
 which I fhall fell this milk will enable 
 me to increafe my Hock of eggs to three 
 hundred. Thefe eggs, allowmg for what 
 may prove addle, and what may be de- 
 ftroyed by vermin, will produce at leaft 
 two hundred and fifty chickens. The 
 hickens will oe fit to carry to market about Chriftmas, when poultry always bears a good 
 jrice ; fo that by May Day I cannot fail of having money enough to purchafe a new Gown. 
 JGreen — let me confider — yes, green becomes my complexion beft, and green it (hall be. In 
 this drefs I will go to the fair, where all the young fellows will ftrive to have me for a part- 
 ner; but I (hall perhaps refufe every one of them, and with an air of difdain, tofs from 
 •them. Tranfported with this triumphant thought, (he could not forbear afting with her head 
 what thus paffed in her imagination, when down came the pail of milk, and with it all her 
 imaginary happinefs. 
 
 I The Cat and the Rat. 
 
 A CERTAIN Cat had made fuch 
 unmerciful havoc among the vermin of 
 her neighbourhood, that not a fingle Rat 
 or Moufe ventured to appear abroad. 
 Pufs was foon convinced, that if affairs 
 remained in their prefent fituation, fhe 
 mull be totally unfupplied with provif- 
 ions. After mature deliberation, there- 
 fore, {he refolved to have recourfe to 
 ftratagem. For this purpofe fhe fuf- 
 pended herfelf to a hook with her head 
 downwards, pretending to be dead. 
 The Rats and Mice, as they peeped 
 from their holes, obferving her in this 
 dangling attitude, concluded fhe was 
 hanging for fome mifdemeanour ; and 
 with great joy immediately fallied forth in queft of their prey. Pufs, as foon as a fufficient 
 number were collefted together, quitting her hold, dropped into the midft of them; and 
 very few had the fortune to make good their retreat. This artifice having fucceeded fo well, 
 file was encouraged to try the event of a fecond. Accordingly (he whitened her coat all 
 over, by rolling herfelf in a heap of flour, and in this difguifc lay concealed in the bottom of 
 a meal tub. This ftratagem was executed in general with the same effeft as the former. But 
 an old experienced Rat, altogether as cunning as his adverfary, was not fo eafily enfnared. I 
 don't much like, faid he, that white heap yonder : Something whifpers me there is mifchief 
 concealed under it. 'Tis true it may be meal ; but it may likewife be fomething that I (hould 
 not reli(h quite fo well. There can be no harm at leaft in keeping at a proper diftance ; for 
 caution, I am fure, is the parent of fafety. 
 
418 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 The Fox and the Swallow. 
 
 ARISTOTLE informs us, that the 
 following Fable was spoken by Etop to 
 the Samians, on a debate upon chang- 
 ing their minifters, who were acculed 
 of plundering the commonwealth. 
 
 A Fox fwimming acrofs a river, 
 happened to be entangled '" fome 
 weeds that grew near the bank, from 
 which he was unable to extricate him- 
 felf. As he lay thus cxpofed to whole 
 fwarms of flies, which were galling him 
 and fucking his blood, a fwallow, ob- 
 fcrving his diftrefs, kindly offered to 
 drive them away. By no means, faid 
 the Fox ; for if thefe ftiould be chafed 
 away, which are already fufficiently 
 more hungry fwarm would fucceed, and I fhould be robbed of every re- 
 blood in my veins. 
 
 gorged, 
 maining 
 
 another 
 drop of 
 
 The 
 
 each 
 from 
 
 bitter has 
 danger. 
 
 Fox and the Bramble. 
 
 A FOX, clofely purfued by a pack 
 of Dogs, took ihelter under the covert 
 of a Bramble. He rejoiced in this 
 afylum ; and for a while, was very 
 happy ; but foon found that it he at- 
 tempted to ftir, he was wounded by 
 thorns and prickles on every fide. 
 However, making a virtue of ncceffity, 
 he f)rbore to complain; and com- 
 forted himfelf with rcflefting that no 
 blifs is perfefl ; that good and evil are 
 mixed, and flow from the fame foun- 
 tain. Thefe Briers, indeed, faid he, 
 will tear my (kin a little, yet they keep 
 off the dogs. For the fake of the good 
 then let me bear the evil with patience ; 
 its fweet; and thefe Brambles, though they wound my flcfli, preferve my life 
 
 The Partial Judge. 
 
 A FARMER came to a neighbour- 
 ing Lawyer, exprefling great concern 
 for an accident which he faid had jufl: 
 happened. One of your Oxen, con- 
 tinued he, has been gored by an un- 
 lucky Bull of mine, and I fhould be 
 glad to know how I am to make you 
 reparation. Thou art a very honeft 
 fellow, replied the lawyer, and wilt 
 not think it unreafonable that I ex- 
 pert one of thy Oxen in return. It 
 is no more than juftice, quoth the Far- 
 mer, to be fure ; but what did I fay ? 
 — I miftake — It is your Bull that has 
 killed one of my Oxen. Indeed ! fays 
 the Lawyer, that alters the cafe ; I 
 
WEBSTER 8 SPELLING BOOK. 
 
 419 
 
 mull inquire into the affair ; and if — And if ! faid the Farmer — the bufinefs I find would 
 have been concluded without an if, had you been as ready to do juftice to others, as to exail 
 it from them. 
 
 The Bear and the two Friends. 
 
 TWO Friends, fetting out togeth- 
 er upon a journey, which led through 
 a dangerous foreft, mutually promifed 
 to affill each other if they Ihould hap- 
 pen to be aflaulted. They had not 
 proceeded far, before they perceived 
 a Bear making towards them with 
 great rage. 
 
 There were no hopes in flight; but 
 one of them, being very aftive, fprung 
 up into a tree; upon which the other, 
 throwing himfelf flat on the ground, 
 held his breath and pretended to be 
 dead ; remembering to have heard it 
 aflerted, that this creature will not 
 prey upon a dead carcafs. The bear 
 came up, and after fmelling to him fome time, left him and went on. When he was fairly 
 out of fight and hearing, the hero from the tree called out— Well, my friend, what faid the 
 bear 1 he feemed to whifper you very clofely. He did fo, replied the other, and gave me this 
 good piece of advice, never to alTociate with a wretch, who in the hour of danger, will defert 
 his friend. 
 
 The Tiuo Dogs. 
 
 HASTY and inconfiderate con- 
 nections are generally attended with 
 great difadvantages ; and much of 
 every man's good or ill fortune, de- 
 pends upon the choice he makes of 
 his friends. 
 
 A good-natured Spaniel overtook a 
 furly Maftiff, as he was travelling up- 
 on the high road. Tray, although 
 an entire ftranger to Tiger, very civ- 
 illy accofted him ; and if it would be 
 no interruption, he faid, he Ihould be 
 glad to bear him company on his way. 
 Tiger, who happened not to be alto- 
 gether in fo growling a mood as ufual, 
 accepted the propofal; and they very 
 amicably purfued their journey together. In the midlt of their converfation, they arrived at 
 the next village, where Tiger began to difplay his malignant difpofition, by an unprovoked 
 attack upon every dog he met. The villagers immediately fallied forth with great mdig- 
 nation, to refcue their refpeftive favourites ; and falling upon our two friends, without dif- 
 tinaion or mercy, poor Tray was moft cruelly treated, for no other reafon, but his being 
 found in bad company. 
 
420 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 The following cuts, sketched from Willson's Scries of " School and Family Readers," w'th the ac- 
 companvinj? explanations, show the ^reat dej^ree of advancement made, not only in the arti-tic beauty 
 of the Illustrations contained in tlie latest piil)lished of our Readinjz-Hooks, but, more especially, in the 
 successful attempt to combine instruction in reading with advancement in useful knowledye. 
 
 From the First Reader. 
 
 Eye, Nose, Ear, Mouth, Face. 
 
 Arm, 11, 
 
 it, Foot, Shue. 
 
 The Fagle's Nest. 
 
 The leiding principle developed in the Second Reahfh Part I,, "Storiea from the Bibln," beaiitifiilly sin'l hnunHfiilly 
 
 (but uliich iilso Tun^ through'jut the entire S-ri'-s) \a the eu\y 
 cuUiviition of the /'. re p'ive F.iniWm hy !e.Ti:?ons drawn from 
 a great vaii.-ty of object:* and scenes which are represented lo 
 the eye of the pupil. 
 
 The Tiiiui> RfiAi>ER of the Seiies, after a brief =>yn p h of 
 the "Kleiu nts of Mlo.-uijon," U divided intu 1 ur I a t — 
 
 tsrated.— Part li., "Moial lywon^^."— P;trt Ii;., "■lirst 
 IMvision of Animal Lift','" enibrafing ihe Manim!iU;i; and 
 Part IV., *^ .Mi-cellaneoiis." The followiiif:; forir illu^tra ions 
 give the pupil a gi neral idea of the four gi eat divioiona of the 
 \niinal KiugJum. 
 
 " \ mm 
 
 ^tMALB 
 
 nina. 
 
 OF THT, Srai, Kind. — 1. Coninion Sci), PJinrn rUii'in'y. 2. Sen-Bear, Phocaur- 
 3. :jca-LioD, Phocajubata. 4. WuliUd, or Sea-llorae, Trkhechus roetiiaTUS. 
 
 The snhj:ct of thp }fimma- 
 Jia, in the Thirp Kfaper, is 
 illQ-trat(d ly more than two 
 hnndi-i'd figuns of Animali", 
 many of thi m i i groups, with 
 Scah'K o/ Ain.Hit"mL'ne show- 
 ing thdr romp:irj tive tizt3, ua 
 in the Animnls of the Seal kind 
 in the anm xed cngiaviag. 
 This we believe to be u new 
 feature, even in zoological 
 works-, and it ia one that b em- 
 inently useful. 
 
 An attempt has been made— 
 and, it ia believed, f-ucee-isfiilly 
 —to invest the fiiibj<ct of ani- 
 mal life with a gnat dcgi-e- of 
 hiferest for rbildnn; to pojiv- 
 hrize it to the r capucities; to 
 give all d >i altl variety to the 
 lessons, asi xerciee-= inTi'iidin^; 
 and to convey as mu "h pot^iiive 
 iiif'irviat on as would h- com- 
 paiib'ewith ih sl- requi.-ite3for 
 a good Keading-B >ok. Numei^ 
 oils intere;4iDgincidenia of ani- 
 mal life; ilhi.-^trating tnita of 
 character, hahiis, &c , tmtl both 
 piietical and prose sclectionf, 
 I ffectually relieve the deacri))* 
 tiuns of that stm- nrsx of style 
 and matter which U found in 
 moat zoulo^icul worka. 
 
ACADEMIES, HIGH SCHOOLS, ETC. 
 
 421 
 
 The FO0RTH Readeb, in ati- 
 dition to Mi.si-elhxnfoua Sek-c- 
 tiontJ, h'ls divi^ione* dF '■'• Fiirty" 
 ftppropiiated to " 1 1 iim:in Fliy>- 
 ioKi^y and Health," "Orni- 
 tholo-jy^or BinK" " Vigutahle 
 Phy9iolo.:y< or Botany," " Nai- 
 iiral Phiio-ophy," i.nd *■' Sncivd 
 UMovy," in nil which lliert i^ 
 groiit liter, ry variety, well 
 ad ipted for reiidiiig k-s^on-^ ; 
 and, moreover, the l)eauiit'ul 
 illustrationa te:xh iLff/nl .farts. 
 Oneof theciil9 f oni "Umithol- 
 rgy," showing the f>>rm!=, r lii- 
 tive sizes, «&(■., of tlie "Climb- 
 ing Birds," is hire jiivm. 
 
 The FiFTii KEAnr.r^ which is 
 the highest in the ^\tv\G^ thiia 
 fir publislied, h:is, in addition 
 to the Mi^celhineou? l>iv^^ion3 
 embracing a variety ot the l-est 
 literjiry seh ctions, the eleven 
 following "P;:rt3." 
 
 1. ''Elocutionary ;" 2. "Tler- 
 petolocry, orHeptilep;" 3 "Sec- 
 ond liivigion of Human I'liy-l- 
 ologvandllealth;" -lih, "S c- 
 ond JDivi^imiof Yig 'iiibh- I'hy^^- 
 iology, or Botany; 5. '" Ichthy- 
 ology, or 1-ishes;" fi. * I'ivil 
 Arrhiteclure;" 7. "Second Di- 
 vLinn of Natural Philosophy; 
 8. ^--Pliysical Gicgrnphy;" 9. 
 ^*Ch':mi.-try;" 10. ''Geology:" 
 11. "Ancient lll-toiy." We 
 liave room to iniroduc::' only 
 one illustration from each of 
 two of these divi^^ions. 
 
 The Botanical Illustration 
 here given repre?cnts the 
 Trumpet -Flower and Lalii)ite 
 Families; anothtr cut shows 
 the features which specially 
 characteiize these familie.'-, but 
 for which we linvf no. room 
 hire. The Cla^pification of 
 itB, in accordance wiili tiie 
 yit ual ^\y.s■^'7n, is shown 
 cliiitly by such intire^ting il- 
 lu.-t litions as these, which cer- 
 tainly accomplish fai' mon- than 
 pngea of descrip.ion. More- 
 over, the economical uses of 
 plants are not ovirlooked, and 
 the entire treatmi-nt of the pub- 
 jpct U well calcuhited to culti- 
 vate, in early life, a ta^te for 
 the Buccessful study of Nmu e. 
 In the dt partment of Ichihyol- 
 ogy, 1-5 species of fi^^h are fig- 
 ured. Physical Geogr.iphy. 
 Architecture, Geology, &c., 
 have their app!0]iriate illustra- 
 tions, all teaching us ful facts 
 in ecience, hut without the- dry- 
 n!'pg which iieually accomjianits 
 tci.'utific detail. 
 
 Of the viry succ ssfnl man- 
 ner in which the iihov. sul.jecls 
 have been made to comhin. the 
 Hf'rnnf variet'i n quired in 
 R.ading-Books fcr youth, witli 
 iiistu Hon in n.-<i\ ul knon-l- 
 frh'i\ wc have not room to spe; k 
 hc-e; but we commenr] a crit- 
 ic tl rxnminiition of ihe books 
 rhemsRlv. s— in thf ir dctii^-n, 
 pi in, and ox cuiiou — to evt ry 
 on* interppte'l in tin- subject of 
 Kduc itional Progregp. 
 
 What a c ntr;;pt between 
 these and -ur earlier R. ailing- 
 Books I The sim])Ie fact that 
 publishers can now aford to il- 
 lustrate, 80 elaborately, books 
 designed fur u-ie in our ComTmm. 
 Schoolx^ speaks volumes for the 
 cause of PopuUir Education. 
 
422 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL ISSTITCTIONS. 
 
 SCHOOL APPARATUS. 
 
 ,,f«!iiiilii,4li,|«,j 
 
 
 APPARATUS AND EQUIPMENT OF THE DISTRICT SCHOOL AS IT WAS. 
 
 o'lbrdok sc[iOoiJapparAtIjs' 
 
 _ t:lil!fii'iiif;:ta*l:ll:il:!l;:i,: i„i -i I • ii 
 
 BPECIMENS OF APPAEATU8 OF THE SCUOOL AS IT IS, 
 
TiiK Eureka \\'aijl-Slate3. 
 
 TllK N?:\V Si-H'ioL (il.oHK. 
 
 Hajimond Blackboard Scpport. 
 
 The New C'RAYnN-Hin.nKU. (full size.) 
 
 The •■ Assembly" School Dej^kj* and Settees. 
 
DE6K AND SKTTEB, COMBINED. 
 
 DESK AND SETTEE, INDEPENDENT. 
 
 Thk Nbv Autbrtcan Desks, with Allen's Opera Seat8 
 
 Principal's Platform DEsit. (rear vibw.) 
 
 AeE>iBTANT Teacher's Dksk, 
 
 TlMBY B Globr Timk-Pikoe. 
 
LIBRARIES. 
 
 423 
 
 CBArTER XIX. 
 
 LIBRARIES. 
 
 At the close of the Revolution, there 
 were very few public libraries in the couu- 
 try ; hardly any, indeed, away from the col- 
 let;es and large towns, and even these, few 
 and small as they were, were not generall}' 
 accessible. The oldest of.them all was that 
 of Harvard University, which commenced 
 with the bequest of Harvard's books in 1G38, 
 but had been completely destroyed by fire 
 in 1 7(34. Great efforts were made to restore 
 it, and before the commencement of the 
 Revolution about $20,000 and considerable 
 quantities of hooks had been contributed 
 for that purpose. It could, however, hardly 
 have liad more than 10,000 or 12,U00 vol- 
 umes at that period. The only other col- 
 lege libraries then in existence (all of them 
 small, but two or three of. them containing 
 many valuable works,) were the librarv of 
 Yale College, founded in 1 700, which had 
 received important additions from Bishop 
 Berkeley and other P]ngli^h gentlemen ; the 
 very small library of William and Maiy, at 
 Williamsburg, Va., founded, perhaps, two 
 or three years earlier; tliat of the Univer- 
 sity of Pennsylvania, founded in 17-19, also 
 small, but valuable ; that of New Jersc}^ Col- 
 lege, at Princeton, founded in 174G; that 
 of King's, now Columbia, College, founded 
 in 17.57, and containing at the close of the 
 Revolution not more than 2000 volumes ; 
 and the few hundred volumes which had 
 been collected, as nuclei of libraries, in 
 Brown University from, and after 1768, 
 Dartmouth College from 1769, and Rutgers 
 Coller;'e from 1770 to the close of the war. 
 Of proprietary libraries, the oldest and 
 best was the Philadelphia Library Company 
 and Loganian Collection, founded by Ben- 
 jamin Franklin in 1731, which in 1783 con- 
 tamed about 5000 volumes. The Redwood 
 Library at Newport, R. I., incorporated in 
 1747, though not a large collection, possessed 
 considerable value to the classical and theo- 
 logical student. The New York Society Li- 
 brary, founded in 1754, had attained to con- 
 siderable size prior to the war, but suffered 
 much from the vandalism of the British sol- 
 diers, its books being carried ofl' by the 
 knapsackful and bartered for grog. In 1795 
 it had only 5000 volumes. The Charleston 
 Library Society was founded a year or two 
 earlier than the New York Society, and at 
 the commencement of the war had between 
 
 five and six thousand volumes, aside from 
 the library of Mr. Mackenzie, bequeathed to 
 it about the same time. In 1778, however, 
 this fine collection was almost entirely de- 
 stroyed by fire, a small portion of the books 
 only being rescued from the flames, and of 
 these many being broken sets. The Provi- 
 dence Athena-um, founded in 1753, the 
 Salem Athenaeum in 1760, and the Port- 
 land Athenaeum in 1765, .small collections, 
 but well selected, the special library of the 
 American Philosophical Society at Philadel- 
 phia, and a state library of three or four 
 hundred vijlumes, at Concord, New Hamp- 
 shire, complete the catalogue of public li- 
 braries of any considerable importance at 
 the close of the war of the Revolution. 
 
 The period immediately subsequent to the 
 war was not favorable to the multiplication 
 or growth of libraries ; for, being among 
 the outgrowths of an opulent and luxurious 
 civilization, we could hardly look for their 
 increase amid the poverty and financial re- 
 vulsions which continued till nearly the 
 close of the last century. Between 1783 
 and 1800, ten colleges and one theological 
 seminary were founded, and some of them 
 — as, for instance, Bowdoin, Georgetown, 
 D. C, Williams, Dickinson, Transylvania, 
 and the University of North Carolina — now 
 possess respectable libraries, but they luive 
 been mainly accumulated within the last 
 forty years. Of other libraries, we can find 
 no record of even one, of any importance, 
 founded in this period. 
 
 In the period between 1800 and the close 
 of the war of 1812, there were five colleges 
 and two theological seminaries organized, all 
 of which now have libraries of considerable 
 importance. To this period also belong the 
 beginnings of the Boston Athonffium, nowthe 
 fourth library in the country in the number 
 of its volumes, the first library of Congress, 
 which was destroyed by the British in 1814, 
 the noble collection of the New York His- 
 torical Society, and the commencement of 
 the special libraries of the American An- 
 tiquarian Society at Worcester, and the 
 American Academy of Natural Sciences at 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 The war of 181 2 was followed by a period 
 of severe financial distress, and it was not 
 till about 1818 that an}' considerable efforts 
 were made for the establishment of libraries. 
 Between 1818 and the present time, not 
 only have more than one hundred colleges 
 been organized, each of which has a library 
 
4-24 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 of some size, and many of tbem from 10,- 
 000 to i;5,000 volumes, but there have also 
 been established more than twenty theo- 
 logical seminaries, with considerable collec- 
 tions of books ; most of the state libraries, 
 beginning with the valuable State Library at 
 Albany, of over 50,000 volumes, the Con- 
 gressional, Astor, Smithsonian, Boston Pub- 
 lic Librar}', and other free libraries; most 
 of the libraries of the learned societies, and 
 the extensive collections of the historical 
 societies, three or four proprietary libraries 
 of some note, all of the subscription libra- 
 ries, known as mercantile, institute, mechan- 
 ics', or apprentices' libraries, and those con- 
 nected with young men's Christian associa- 
 tions and with churches. Within the same 
 period also, and mainly within twenty years 
 past, great numbers of special libraries — 
 scientific, commercial, agricultural, mining, 
 humanitarian, or devoted to the promotion 
 of particular departments of art or literature 
 — have been founded, while in all the states 
 Sunday School libraries, and in many of 
 them school-district, town, and academical 
 libraries have been formed. Prior to 1840, 
 there were many instances in which writers 
 who desired to investigate certain periods 
 of history, or certain sciences or arts, were 
 compelled to visit Eumpe in order to pro- 
 cure from the great libraries of England or 
 the continent the necessary facts. The ne- 
 cessity for this is now nearly obviated. The 
 great libraries of Cambridge, Boston, New 
 York, Philadelphia, and Washington, though 
 neither of them so complete as they should 
 be, yet together furnish material for the prep- 
 aration of works in most departments of sci- 
 ence, literature, or art, and they are every 
 year becoming more and more full in the 
 topics heretofore deficient. 
 
 The best free library in this country, and 
 the largest, is the Astor Library of New 
 York. It was founded by the bequest of 
 $400,000 by John Jacob Astor, of which 
 $75,000 was to be appropriated for the build- 
 ing, $120,000 for the tirst purchase of Ixioks, 
 and the remainder invested, and the interest 
 applied to the management and increase of 
 the library. The original building, with its 
 furniture and shelving, opened in 1854, cost 
 about 1120,000, the excess over $75,000 be- 
 ing friim accrued interest. The $120,000 
 ex])ended fur books purchased about 80,000 
 volumes. The shelf-room (13,000 feet) be- 
 ing likely to prove insufficient for the wants 
 of the library, William B. Astor, Esq., the son 
 
 of the founder of the library, purchased a 
 lot adjoining the north side of the library, 
 80 by 120 feet, and erected an additional 
 building, somewhat larger than the original 
 one, which he presented to the trustees. 
 Mr. Astor has also, at different times, made 
 considerable donations for the purchase of 
 books. The present number of volumes 
 in tlie library is somewhat more than 120,- 
 000, nearly all acquired by purchase. In 
 his long and careful bibliographical prepara- 
 tion for purchasing .this library, in liis judi- 
 cious selections, and careful expenditures. Dr. 
 Cogswell, the librarian-in-chief, has establish- 
 ed a claim to the gratitude of all scholars. 
 
 The library of Harvard LTniversity has 
 grown up since 17C4, when the original li- 
 brary was destroyed by fire, by numerous 
 donations of books, and, in quite a number 
 of instances, of entire libraries, as well as by 
 donations and bequests of money from friends. 
 These donations and bequests cannot fall 
 much short of $150,000, and it lias now a 
 fund of $26,000, the interest of which is ap- 
 plicable to the purchase of books, and the 
 sum of $5000 per year, for five years from 
 1859, pledged by "William Cray, Esq., to be 
 applied to the same purpose. The various 
 collections of books in Gore Hall (the libra- 
 ry building) include not only the college li- 
 brary proper, but also the society libraries, 
 and the libraries of the divinity, law, and 
 medical schools. The whole number of vol- 
 umes is about 125,000, but the library is 
 very miscellaneous in character, and incom- 
 plete in certain departments. The consid- 
 erable sums it now has at command for pur- 
 chases are applied to make good its deficien- 
 cies as far and as fast as possible. 
 
 The Boston City Library, a free public li- 
 brary, now ranks third in this country. It 
 was founded in 1848, in accordance with 3 
 law of Massachusetts providing for the es- 
 tablishment of town libraries. Hon. Josiah 
 Quincy, jr., then mayor of the cit}', gave 
 $50(10 toward it; Mr. Bigelow gave $luOO; 
 Mr. Everett and Mr. Winthrop, large dona- 
 tions of books ; Mr. Joshua Bates, of Lon- 
 don, $50,000, besides several thousand vol- 
 umes ; Mr. Jonathan Phillips, $10,000 ; and 
 others, smaller sums. The building, erected 
 at a cost of $363,000 by the city of Boston, 
 is one of the finest library rooms in the 
 world. The present number of volumes is a 
 little more than 100,000, and is increasing 
 at the rate of 8000 volumes per annum. 
 During the present year (1861) also, it will 
 
BOSTON CITV LIBKAKV. INTKKlult. 
 
LIBRARIES. 
 
 427 
 
 receive the fine library bequeathed to it by 
 the late Tlieodore Parker, consisting of near- 
 ly 18,000 volumes. 
 
 The Boston Athenaeum ranks fourth in 
 the number of its volumes, is peculiarly rich 
 in the tran.sactions of learned societies, and 
 has a considerable portion of General Wash- 
 infjton's library. It has now about 75,000 
 volumes, and has cost for its building and 
 books full $300,000. Though a proprietary 
 library, it is practically free to the public for 
 consultation. It was founded in 1806, but 
 its principal growth has been within the last 
 'twenty-five years. 
 
 ' The library of Congress, which was nearly 
 destroyed by fire in 1851, has since been re- 
 stored and largely increased. The purchases 
 being made under the direction of a com- 
 mittee of the two Houses, comprising their 
 most eminent scholars, are judicious, and the 
 library, which contains about 65,000 vol- 
 umes, is one of the best for reference and 
 consultation in the eountrv. The library of 
 .the House of Representatives, also in the 
 Capitol, contains about 40,000 volumes. 
 
 The Pliiladelphia Library Company and 
 'Loganian (Jollection is another of the pro- 
 prietary libraries which are accessible to the 
 public for consulting purposes free of charge. 
 Though founded 130 years ago, its growth 
 ^has been mainly achieved during the present 
 century. In 1800, it contained only 7000 
 'or 8000 volumes, while its present number is 
 'about 70,000. 
 
 The New York Mercantile Library is the 
 largest of the subscription and lending libra- 
 ries which are found in most of the eonsid- 
 I erablc towns of the United States. It pos- 
 . sesses a fine edifice in Astor Place, which cost 
 nearly §240,000, and the rent of that portion 
 of the building not occupied for library pur- 
 poses and reading-rooms, will give it, ivhen 
 its debt is liquidated, a considerable annual 
 fund in addition to its receipts for member- 
 ship. Its reading-room is the largest in the 
 country, though the free reading-room of the 
 Cooper Institute very nearly approaches it. 
 Its library, though intended mainly for popu- 
 lar readers rather than scholars, contains a 
 very considerable collection of valuable works 
 of reference. Its present number of volumes 
 is about 60,000. 
 
 The New York State Library at Albany 
 is by far the largest of all the state libraries, 
 and is especially valuable for its fine collec- 
 tion of works on American history and on 
 the natural sciences. It was founded in 
 
 1818, but its principal increase has been 
 since 1845, at which time the Warden col- 
 lection of works on America was purchased 
 and incorporated in the library. The late Dr. 
 T. Romeyn Beck superintended it for many 
 years, and to his judicious purchases it is in- 
 debted for much of its value. Its present 
 number of volumes is not far from 55,000. 
 
 The library of the Smithsonian Institution 
 at Washington, though not so large as some 
 others, numbering little more than 35,000 
 volumes, is a very valuable collection. The 
 aim of Dr. Henry, the secretary of the in- 
 stitution, has been to make it particularly 
 full in those departments in which other li- 
 braries are deficient. Its books are loaned 
 to eminent scholars at a distance, when 
 needed for the preparation of works of im- 
 portance. For some years it received a copy 
 of all copyriii'ht books in the country. 
 
 The American Antiquarian Society at 
 Worcester has an exceedingly valuable col- 
 lection on American antiquities. Founded in 
 1812, l>y the late Isaiah Thomas, who was for 
 twenty years its president, and who gave it 
 about 9000 volumes, it has now about 20,000 
 volumes, manv of them unique in this country. 
 
 The New York Historical Society, found- 
 ed in 1 804, has a very valuable library of 
 about 30,000 volumes, mainly confined to 
 American history and literature ; a museum 
 of American relics and antiquities ; a large 
 picture gallery ; and has recently purchased 
 the fine collection of Egyptian antiquities 
 procured by the late Dr. Abbott. 
 
 The American Academy of Natural Sci- 
 ences at Philadelphia has a museum of nat- 
 ural liistory of nearly 30,000 specimens, and 
 a library of about 27,000 volumes, more 
 complete in natural history than any other, 
 and also containing a very full collection of 
 the revolutionary literature of France, pre- 
 sented them by Mr. William Maclure. 
 
 Two other foundations for libraries are de- 
 serving of notice; that of George Peabody, 
 Esq., for the Peabody Institute at Baltimore, 
 which contemplates a library in connection 
 with a gallery of the fine arts, a musical 
 conservatory, etc., the entire endowment 
 amounting to $600,000 ; and that of the late 
 David Watkinson, of Hartford, Connecticut, 
 who left, in 1857, the sum of $100,000 to 
 found a library of reference in connection 
 with the Connecticut Historical Society, and 
 also made that library his residuary legatee. 
 These are the most remarkable public li- 
 braries of the country. There are, according 
 
428 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 to the latest returns, 3 libraries containing 
 over 1 00,000 voliiracs each ; 9 containing over 
 50,000 volumes each; 19 containing 30,000 
 volumes or more; 20 containing 25,000 vol- 
 umes or more ; 41 containing over 20,000; 
 and 120 containing 10,000 or more. 
 
 The total aggregate of volumes in college, 
 state, national, proprietary, subscription, free, 
 and town libraries, is not far from 3,800,000, 
 and is increasing with great rapidity. 
 
 There are, besides these, in many of the 
 states, school-district and academic libraries, 
 containing a very large aggregate amount of 
 l)ooks. In the state of Now York, the num- 
 ber of volumes in the academic libraries re- 
 porting to the Board of Regents exceeds 
 125,000 ; and the number of volumes in the 
 cornmon-school libraries exceeds 1,500,000. 
 Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Connecti- 
 cut, Ohio, Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Wis- 
 consin, and Iowa, also make provision for 
 such libraries, and have large numbers of 
 them. The latest school returns indicate 
 that the number of volumes in this class of 
 libraries is not fi;r from 4,000,000. 
 
 Another class of libraries, containing in 
 the aggregate a vast number of volumes, and 
 in many cases works of considerable size and 
 value, are the Sunday School libraries. Few 
 of these contain less than 200 volumes, and 
 many of them have 1000 or more. More 
 than 4000 different works have been pub- 
 lished for these libraries within a few years 
 past by the publishing societies and private 
 publishers, and large drafts are also made by 
 the larger schools on English publications 
 and those intended for adults. Estimating 
 the number of these schools at 35,0U0, or 
 about two thirds the number of churches (an 
 estimate considerably below the truth), and 
 the volumes in each library at 200, we have 
 an aggregate of 7,000,U()U \ohiiurs cdllected 
 in these hundile libraries. 
 
 As might be expected, the rapid growth 
 of public libraries has stimulated gentlemen 
 of wealth and intellectual tastes to collect 
 private libraries of considerable extent, and 
 in many cases devoted to some specialty-. 
 Perhaps the largest of these private collec- 
 tions, is that of James Lenox, Esq., of New 
 York, which is especially rich iu early works 
 and in Bibles. 
 
 One of the most singular is that of John 
 Allan, Esq., of the same city, which con- 
 tains a very considerable collection of books 
 which have been interleaved and illustrated 
 by the collector, with choice engravings of 
 
 the persons or events described, often to the 
 number of some hundreds in each volume. 
 
 There are in the city of New York alone not 
 less than 25 private libraries containing more 
 than 10,000 volumes each, and in Boston a 
 still larger number. I'hiladelphia has also 
 many very choice private libraries. 
 
 Some of these private collections are very 
 complete on American local history. No- 
 ticeable among these are the libraries of 
 Peter Force, Esq., of Washington, D. C. ; 
 George Brinley, Esq., of Hartford, Connec- 
 ticut ; George W. Greene, of Providence, R. 
 I. ; and Jlessrs. George Bancroft, J. C. Bre- 
 voort, W. J. Davis, II. C. Murphy, William 
 Menzies, and J. R. Brodhead, of New York. 
 The library of Hon. Henry Barnard, at 
 Hartford, Connecticut, is more complete on 
 tl>e subject of education than any other in 
 the country ; that of W. Parker Foulke, 
 Esq., of Philadelphia, is very full on prisons 
 and prison discipline, and that of S. Austin 
 Allibone, Esq., of the same city, on English 
 literature and criticism ; that of David N. 
 Lord, of New York, on ecclesiastical and 
 polemic literature; that of Profe-ssor Charles 
 Anthon, of the same city, contains a fine col- 
 lection of classics and works on classical liter- 
 ature; that of G. W. Pratt, also of New York, 
 on Oriental languages and literature; that of 
 C. L. Bushnell, on numismatics; that of J. A. 
 Stevens, jr., on the literature of the Middle 
 Ages ; those of Messrs. W. P. Chapman and 
 R. G. White, on dramatic and especially 
 Shakspearian literature; that of D. W. Fiske, 
 on Scandinavian literature ; that of George 
 . Folsom, on history and geography ; that of 
 R. M. Hunt, on architecture ; and those of 
 xVrchbishop Hughes, Rev. Dr. Forbes, Rev. 
 Dr. Hatfield, and Rev. Dr. Bethune, on 
 theology, ecclesiastical biography, and pa- 
 tristic literature. 
 
 There are in connection with many of our 
 benevolent and humane institutions special 
 libraries containing a few hundred or thou- 
 sand volumes devoted to the particular work 
 of those institutions. Thus, the American 
 Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb, at Hart- 
 ford, and the New York Institution for the 
 Deaf and Dumb, have each a very consider- 
 able collection of works on deaf mute in- 
 struction ; the American Bible Society has a 
 fine collection of Bibles in all languages ; 
 and the American Bible Union, a valuable 
 collection of works on biblical criticism and 
 exegesis, procured for the use of its U'ausla- 
 tors. , 
 
LIBUAKIES. , 429 
 
 LIBEABLBS OF COLLEGES, THEOLOGICAL SEMINARIES, &c. 
 When COLLEGES., 
 
 founded. _ _ _ Na„.e. Location. ,f,°-,l. 
 
 Hiryard College Cambridge, Mass ... ?! iSThM 
 
 W illwm and Mary William.>ihurg, Va 4 SU 
 
 \ale College New Uaven. Conn .''.'; o-.wS 
 
 I(ji)8, 
 1092, 
 
 JS'!' lale college New Uaven, Conn q- i 
 
 l(4b. College of New Jersey Princeton, N. J oin il 
 
 1^49, University of Pennsylvania Philadelphia, Penn i'i^ 
 
 I,D,, Columbia College New Yorlc City, N. Y '.'.■..■.■■.'.'.: oYm 
 
 }'4l' J^"'™ ^'"'■•"»"'y Providence,! I oo'XXX 
 
 Irb9, Dartmouth College Hanover, ff. H o5v,,«V 
 
 ?-=.V "^""ng'"" "fJ Lee College Le.'iiDgton, Va. 2'™ 
 
 1,8.3, Diekinson College Carlisfe, pinn Se'oOO 
 
 l.bl, S.John's College Annapolis,Ma . ^s'oOO 
 
 ,^0, Charleston CWlege.. ^'barlLon, S. C. ...•;.■.• i.' g'So 
 
 i-Q„'' University of Georgia Athens, Ga is'™ 
 
 i-Qo' JJ™P''?'> Sidney College Prince Edward's Co., Va '.". ?ao 
 
 1.39, University of North Carolina...- Ch.'ipel Hill. N. C. . aVilm 
 
 1,9 , University of Vermont liurlington, Vt. . ?f' m 
 
 ?-«' G™":g«'''™,V"'''-g<' Georgetown, B. C . 3S'm 
 
 1,9.3, J\illia,nsCollege Williamsto™, Mass o„ K,0 
 
 ],9_t, Bowdoin Cjllege Brunswick, Me . 5o'!,,„) 
 
 l,9o, Union colcge Schenectady, N. Y iSDOJ 
 
 ^i'f!' '"ntucky University Lexington,Kv s'lllXl 
 
 IS , M.dllebnry College Middlebur}, Vt 14U)0 
 
 if.,' University of South Carolina Columbia, S. C i^nfl 
 
 VJ-Ti' Washington and Jefferson College Cannonsburg, Penn fs'lliio 
 
 lm*' 0'»» Uh'^-J'Jy Athens, OhiS.. .• g'sUlJ 
 
 }t^i' Uoj'ers'ty of East Tennessee Knoxville, Tenn s'™ 
 
 1806, University of Nashville ^ashville, Tenn . llfX 
 
 }tl' Mounts'. Mary's College Near Kinmettsburg, Md.. ..■.■:•.■.::•.■.::■.:: TmO 
 
 1809, Miimi University O.xford. Ohio qfj) 
 
 101-' Hjmilton College Clinton, N. Y iVrKin 
 
 181,, Alleghany College Mead ville, Penn. .... ;::.' •••.• 1,? ,,0 
 
 IRI^' University of Virginia , Charlottesville, Va . ::::::::::: »; Oi 
 
 M20' St 'loseph s College Bardstown, Ky Ill, W 
 
 io,V' Co by University Waterville, Me Jh'.Jm 
 
 18}, Columbian College Washington, E.G...:..:.:.:;;. . l ! i;;::;; i;;; ••.•;: ' solg 
 
 1S-n' An'^erst College Amherst, Mass SS.'u.O 
 
 }lB Centre College Danville, Ky Iqm 
 
 1S9-' I'TK i°""«fv, Hartford, Conn '. ! U'uoO 
 
 182,, Hobart Free College Geneva, N. Y . . um 
 
 llw' lvT°S?"''"'--r;V, G,ai,ibier, Ohio . ! Is'oOO 
 
 i«a' JVestern Keserve College Hiulson, Ohio ilOfW 
 
 1323, Indiana Univer.sity Bloomington, Ind ! . ... ! ! 'i ! ! i! i! ! 6,6llo 
 
 !«?' »P':'nS JWI College Spring Uill (near MobUe), Ala 8.500 
 
 iW:< University of .Mabama Tuscaloosa, .Ua vutM 
 
 ill' University of New York New York City, N. Y ■.::'.'.:: a'oOO 
 
 J3 Wesleyan University Middletown, Conn ' ' 2.5 (XIO 
 
 IW' Pennsylvania College Gettysburg. Penn ] l8(joO 
 
 ilii' genison University Granville, Ohio U(m 
 
 1832, Randolph-Macon College Uoydton,'va ..■.:::: Io500 
 
 li-f "^T" ';""?=''■ ■•; South Hanover, lud ...... ,5 WKl 
 
 i5?o' St. Louis University St. LouU, Mo 22 ftua 
 
 lb.32, Lafayette College Easton Pa ^'^I> 
 
 isi' ^f'^''' '^?."^p •'•••'• crawfo^dsviiie'.ind.':.'.";.'.'.";;.".'::.".".':;:::::;:;.'; nm 
 
 ]IB Delaware College Newark. Del.. ! 1(,«0 
 
 ?iS?' Havorford College West ILaverford, Pa ^^^m 
 
 Jo?-' Oberlin College Oberlin, Ohio 10,™ 
 
 K?2' Marietta College Mariett.4, Ohio kS^ 
 
 li«' M-^Kendree College Lebanon III .....:. efS 
 
 Joo„' Franklin and Marshall College Lancaster, Penn iq mn 
 
 1838, Alfred University Alfred NY V^i 
 
 ■Jo?-' University ofMichigan Ann .\rbor, Mich'.'.' .'.■.■.■.■.■.■.■ .'.'.'.■.■.'.■■.■ iSflm 
 
 Jo„^' Indiana Asbnry University Greencastle, Ind In'lim 
 
 1833, Wake Forest College Forestville, N. C V s'(m 
 
 }o?I' Emory College Oxford, Ga Yg,^ 
 
 ?o m' l;""^ and_ Henry College '.'.'.'.'.'.'. Washington Co'.i Va 9^000 
 
 6,'0OI) 
 
 i34o; Mercer universiiy: ! ! !; i::! i::::;;; "i; ii; i! :! ] ; ] pe;;Serd;'Ga:.:;;;:;:;:;;;;; ^t-^ 
 
 i9in' Sf i'^r° •^p'lt^" '.'.'.'.v.'.'.'.'.'. Mecklenburg Co., n'.c.'; i.".". i:.': ! [.'i i:." .':::;: ! e.ooo 
 
 134ft- «!■ vfvW'.P " Georgetown. Ky lft.,»,0 
 
 islo I' Xavier s Co lege Cincinnati, Ohio ly'ooo 
 
 ist^' nhAr''i^°"fP-----. Wa,shington, Co.. Md . ll kJiO 
 
 Jito' OhioWosleyan University Delaware Co., Ohio 140,10 
 
 i^ii' Cumberland University Lebanon, Tenn s'™ 
 
 }f,V UnjveKity of Notre Daine du Lac Notre Dame, Ind '.'. 7'-,(l^ 
 
 Jsl-' «"V^J'"'i; ■.■■■•: Worcester. .Ma..s KftftO 
 
 islfi' ^V'.'^nb"!! University Springfield, Ohio :.■;.■:.■;;.•;.•.• Ts « 
 
 lS4b, Ma.lison University Hamilton, N. Y . 8 5(10 
 
 Jofi' 5 ,, "■ ■'' College Wilmington, Del . fi ftOO 
 
 Jtti' Co ege of St. Francis Xavier New York Citv " 
 
 1S48 
 
 1860, 
 
 ih.ono 
 
 16,,500 
 
 isja- College of the City of New York New York, City jo ,^,„ 
 
 1348, University of Mississippi Oxford, Miss... . 6500 
 
 J^' If'™n" University Appleton, Wis .;:; ?'cioO 
 
 }l^,' Rofl!f%r University Rocheste;, N. Y ....■:::.■ s'sOO 
 
 Tnmty College. Randolph Co., N 
 
 * Those containing less than 5,000 volumes are not noticed. 
 
 ,5110 
 ,8U0 
 
430 . EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 "wten^ ' ~ No. of 
 foUDded. Name. location. wlumes 
 
 1851, Mount St. Mary's of the West Near Cincinnati, Ollio 10 .'UJO 
 
 1851, College of Christian Brothers i^t. Louis, Mo S'SOO 
 
 1852, Lombard University Galesburg, 111 ....".'.....'.'... s'oOO 
 
 18.J3, Koanoke College Salem, Itoanoke Co., Va t'siK) 
 
 1553, Westminster College Fulton, Mo j'jOO 
 
 1554, Tufts College Medford, Mass .".' '.' lo'& 
 
 1854, Knox College Gale.sbnrgh, 111 '.'..."... 6,6(10 
 
 1855, Northwestern University Evanston, 111 .*.*.'.'.'.". S5 5C0 
 
 1856, St. Lav?rence University Canton, N. Y "(iVyiO 
 
 1856, Seaton Uall College South Orange, N. J ....\ .\'\.]l] .[[.'.'.[.'.'.'. .".'.['. g'oOO 
 
 1857, Loyola College Baltimore, Md Z'lSiOO 
 
 1857, Washington University St. Louis, Mo 6 tOll 
 
 Santa Clara College Santa Clara, Cal .'.'.'.'..'.'.'.' II .'(JOO 
 
 Iowa College Grinncll, Iowa 6.410 
 
 College of the Immaculate Conception New (trlf:iiis La 6 £00 
 
 Louisiana State University Itattm Ki.iii;e, La '.'..*'.'.!'.'.*.!'.',! '.'.".*.*. 8'4'0 
 
 Wolford College Spiuterislnu'-h.'S. C. ..'.'.!...",".!.'.'. !.".'.'!.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.' 56(i0 
 
 1859, Griswold College Davenport, .Iowa ". . 5!40O 
 
 1859, St. Benedict's College Atchison, Kansas 12 000 
 
 1860, Augustana College Genesee, III 7*500 
 
 1861, Vassar College I'ouglikcepsie, N. Y ....."........!'!! ....... I'fM 
 
 1862, St. Joseph's College Philadelphia, I'a 61250 
 
 1863, Boston College Boston, Ma.ss 6.500 
 
 1863, Manhattan College New York City .' ' 6200 
 
 1864, Bates College Lewiston, Me 7300 
 
 1865, Cornell University Ith.aca, N. Y 5o'.(lfl0 
 
 1807, Howard University Washington, D. C 6,500 
 
 THEOLOGICAL SEMIN.iRIES. 
 
 J7S4, Theological Seminary Reformed Dutch Church New Urunswick, N. J 10 000 
 
 1791, St. Mary's Theological Seminary Baltimore, Md '. !'.!.!'.!.'!'.!."'.!."..!!!! lo'llOO 
 
 1808, Andover Theological Seminary Andover, .Mass ] .'.*'.*.'.'!"'"..',. 3l'000 
 
 1812, Trinceton Theological Seminiry Princeton, N. J 21 000 
 
 1816, Divinity School Cambridge, Mass \..\ ...[.. .[.[..\. .. I'iVlOO 
 
 1816, Bangor Theological Seminary Bangor, .Me ".."...'.".'.'....'.*... 12000 
 
 1817, Episcopal General Theological Seminary New York I. .^^l'.'.'.'.]'. .'.'..'.'.'.'.'...'.'.'.'.['.]'.'. .]'. 14500 
 
 18'iO, Hamilton Theological Seminary Hamilton, N. Y .'.'.'.'.".."."..!!!!!.!."!!!!"!.' 10 000 
 
 1S21, Auburn Theological Seminary Auburn, N. Y .".."...'....".'.'.'.'.'.".'.".'.'.'.'.'.*.'."".".' 6 OOO 
 
 1821, South- VVestern Theological Seminary Marvsville, Tenn.. ...... .".".'.'.'.".".'.*.'.*'".'..".".' ".".'.." c'oOO 
 
 1822, Episcopal Theological School Fairfax Co., A'a '.'. .'.'.'.'.'.'..'.".'.'.'...".'.'.'..'. 9tt00 
 
 18'24, U nion Theological Seminary Hampden , Sidney , 'i'a ...... . . . . . . . . ..... . ....... o'oOO 
 
 Gettysburg Theological Seminary Gettysburg, Penn ' ... 12 500 
 
 1825, Newton Theological Institution Newton, Mass ftVo 
 
 1825, Wittemburg Thi-oh.giral Seminary Gettysburg. Penn ................... 12500 
 
 1825, German Rcforiiied Tlic'ijogical Seminary Mercersburg, Penn .' 8*500 
 
 18'27, Theological Department Kenyon College Gambler, Ohio .....'. .......... 7*500 
 
 1828, Western Theological Seminary Alleghany, Penn lo'uOO 
 
 1828, Theological Seminary ,» . . . Columbia, S. C ISoOO 
 
 1829, Lane Seminary Cincinnati, Ohio 13500 
 
 18.32, ShurtlelT College Theological Department Upper Alton, HI ... 5*200 
 
 1834, Theological Institute Hartford, Conn 7*500 
 
 1836, Union Theological Seminary New York SlJ'OO 
 
 1833, St. ('harles Brunning Theological Seminary. . . . Philadelphia, Penn ! 10,000 
 
 1840, Concordia Seminary *St. Louis, Mo 5,200 
 
 1844, Western Theological School Meadville, I'enn 9*500 
 
 1844, St. Vincent's College Theological Department Cape Girardeau, Mo 7,000 
 
 1844, Ohio Weslevan Semin.ary Delaware, Ohio 8,100 
 
 1844, Seminary of St. Mary of the Lake Chicago, III 6,000 
 
 1846, St. Vincent's College Theological Department St. \iiicent. Pa 12,i 00 
 
 18.50, Rochester Theological Seminary Rochester, N. Y .' 13,000 
 
 1851. Mount St. Marv's of the \Vest Near Cincinnati, Ohio 10,000 
 
 18.S3, Danville Theological Seminary Danville, Ky 8.500 
 
 1859, Southern Baptist Theological Seminary (ireenville, S. C 5,.500 
 
 1859, Theological Seminary of the N. W. College Chicagorlll 8,C0O 
 
 IS.'iO, Griswold College Theological Dep.artment Davenport. Iowa 5,-100 
 
 1862, Episcop.al Divinity School PJliladelphia. Penn 6,500 
 
 1865, Oberlin t^ollc^e fheologiffil Department Oberlin, Ohio 10,500 
 
 1867, Drew Theological Seminary Madison, N. J 11,000 
 
 MEDICAL SCHOOLS .AND HOSPITAL. 
 
 1755, Pennsylvania Hospital Lihrars" Philadelphia, Penn 11,000 
 
 1765, Medical Department Pennsylvania- University Philadelphia, Penn 5,0(10 
 
 1791, New York Hospital T.ilirarv New York 8,0110 
 
 1807, New York College of I'hvsicians and Surgeons New York 2,000 
 
 1831, University Medical School New York 4.500 
 
 University of Virginia Medical Department 35,000 
 
 LAW SCHOOLS AND LIDRARIES. 
 
 1817, Dane Law School Cambridge, Mass 14,000 
 
 1846, New York I'tate and National Law School Poughki-ep-sie, N. Y : 3,000 
 
 New York Ijiw Library New York Oj.lOO 
 
 Social Ijtw Library Boston. 6,000 
 
 J29?'] I** Associations Philadelphia, Penn 6,010 
 
 1841, J 
 
 1859, Michigan University Law Department Ann .\rber, Mich 3,000 
 
LIBRARIES. 431 
 
 PRINCIPAL LIBRARIES OF TUB UNITED STATES, EXCLUSIVE OF TUOSE CONNECTED WITH COLLEGES, &C. 
 
 When No. of 
 
 founded. Name. Location. volumes. 
 
 1853, San Francisco Mercantile Library San Francisco, Cal 25,* HO 
 
 1838, Hartford Young Men's Institute Hartford, (Jonn i2'p35 
 
 1839, Connecticut Historical Society do 12*0; '0 
 
 1854, Connecticut Stiite Library do 3,'-00 
 
 1826, New Haven Youn(^ Men's Institute New Haven, Conn 11,0(0 
 
 1788, Wilmington Young Men's Association \\'ilmiugton, Del 6,189 
 
 1839, Savannah Historical Society. Savannah, Ga : 7,9nO 
 
 1831, Indiana State Library Indianapolis, Ind 26.000 
 
 183t, Catholic Diocesan Library Vineennes, ]nd 12,( 00 
 
 1836, Keokuk Librar>' Association Keokuk, Iowa 6,6t!0 
 
 Dubuque Library Dubuque, Iowa 8.OI1OO 
 
 Lexington City Library Lexington, Ky - 14,600 
 
 18.3', Lnusiana State Library Baton Rouge, La 14,' 00 
 
 1844, Lyceum "Library New Orleans, La 12,00^) 
 
 Mechanics' Librarv do 15,000 
 
 1P39, Maine State Library Augusta. Me 31,6f»3 
 
 1S67, Skowhegan Librarv Skowhegan, Me 2.315 
 
 18-7, Maryland St-itc Librarv Annapolis, Md 25,000 
 
 1862, Baltimore Pcaliodv Institute Baltimore, Md 42,588 
 
 1839, Baltimore Mercantile Library do 24,975 
 
 1843, Maryland Historical Society do 17.010 
 
 1847, Maryland Institute Library do 18,000 
 
 1840, Odd Fellows' Library do 13,000 
 
 1858, Arlington Public Library Arlington, Mass 2,105 
 
 1867, Barnstable Sturgis Library Barnstable. Mass 1,845 
 
 1855, Beverly Public Library Beverly, Mass 4,810 
 
 18:9, Bolton Public Library Bolton, M.is8- 1,300 
 
 1853, American Congregational Library Boston, Mass 10,000 
 
 1807, Boston Athcnajum do 105,000 
 
 1794, Boston Library do 19,800 
 
 1791, Massachusetts Historical Society do 18,500 
 
 1848, Mattapan Literary Association do 3,CO0 
 
 1848, Boston Public City Library do 160,000 
 
 I8.1O, Mercantile Library do il.OCO 
 
 1831, Natural Hi.-torv Society do 13,000 
 
 1864, New Church Library • do ),.3C0 
 
 1826, Massachusetts State Library do 31,.;C0 
 
 1857, Y'oung Men's Christian Association do. 6,610 
 
 18'J7, North Bridgewater. North Bridgcyvatcr, Mass 2,667 
 
 1S64, Brighton ilolton Ubrary Brighton, .Mass 6,108 
 
 1SG7, Brookfield .Merrick Public Library Brookfield, Mass 2,247 
 
 1857, Brookliue Pubhc Library Brooklitie, Mass 12.000 
 
 1857, D.ana Library Cambridge, Mass 4.800 
 
 1800, Charlestown Public Library Charlestown, Mass 10.955 
 
 1869, Chelsea Public Library Chelsea, Mass 2,315 
 
 Chicopee Public Library Chicopee, Mass 2,800 
 
 Ligelovv Librarv Clinton, Mass 
 
 I'Sl, Concord Public Library Concord, .Mass 5,984 
 
 IS1J6, Peabody Institute Danvers, Mass 
 
 IGIO, Deerficfd Librarv Association Deerfield, .Mass .... 2,100 
 
 ISOl, Fall Iciver Public Libra>y Fall Kiver, Mass 6,6c3 
 
 1859, Fitchburg Public Library ,. Fitchburg, .Mass 8,500 
 
 1855, Framingliam Public Library Fr 'miugham. Mass 
 
 1854, Lyceum Library Gloucester, Mass 3,000 
 
 1855, Public Library Groton. Mass 1,665 
 
 Public Library HarvanI, Mass 1,400 
 
 1863, Public Library Hinsdale, Mass 2,1)00 
 
 1862, Public Librarv Lancaster, Mass 4,500 
 
 1861, Public Library Leicester, Mass 2,9.53 
 
 Franklin Library Lawrence, Mass 5,400 
 
 18.54, Pa'ilic Mills Library do. 5,600 
 
 1S64, Public Library Leominster, Mass 4,il56 
 
 1867, Y'nung .Men's Christian Association Lowell, Mass 
 
 Lowell City Library do 15,121 
 
 1850, Public Library Lunenburg. Mass 1.360 
 
 1862, Public Library Lynn, Mass 12,812 
 
 1866, Public Library Millbury . Mass 1,265 
 
 1857, Public Library Natick,-Mas3 2,540 
 
 1862, Public Library New Bedford, Mass 23,030 
 
 1854, Free Library Ncwburyport, Mass 13 600 
 
 1819, Public Library Newton,' Mass 1,800 
 
 1860, Public Librarv Northampton, Mass 5 400 
 
 1854, Pe.abody Institute Peabodv, Mass 14,300 
 
 1862, Phillips' Free Public Library Phillipston, Mass 2.2;9 
 
 1850, Pittsficld Mercantile Library Pittsfleld, Mass 3 500 
 
 1.869, Public Library South Heading, Mass 3,300 
 
 1857, Roxbury .athenaeum Library Roxbury, Mass 8,.50O 
 
 1810, Salem Atbeneeum Library Salem, Mass 13 755 
 
 18.54, Arms Librarv Shelburne Falls 3,4.37 
 
 I8<!0, Public Library. Shelborn. Mass 1,500 
 
 1857, Public Librarv ' Springfield, Mass 30,488 
 
 1862, Jackson Library StockbriJge, Mass 4,000 
 
 1858, Public Library Stoneham, Mass 3,400 
 
 18.52, Public Librarv Saultborough, Mass 2,611 
 
 1863, Goodenow Libraij South Sudbury, Mass 4,284 
 
432 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 When 
 
 founded. 
 
 19(56, 
 
 1865, 
 
 18'«, 
 
 18MI, 
 
 1 ^:",r. 
 
 1813, 
 
 is5a, 
 
 1857, 
 IS.!", 
 
 n;9, 
 
 1V,6, 
 IS 0, 
 
 m2, 
 
 1865, 
 1832, 
 1^28, 
 1^59, 
 1S49, 
 1835, 
 1816, 
 1S55, 
 l-<54, 
 PIT, 
 l-'47, 
 18 .8, 
 1818, 
 
 P:i3, 
 1857, 
 1835, 
 
 l'i'20, 
 1818, 
 185!), 
 18:;! I, 
 1«3U, 
 IS 14, 
 1 411, 
 ]S3», 
 18,8, 
 H17, 
 1 'Ha, 
 1 563, 
 
 18 0, 
 1S4), 
 l'^6^, 
 1817, 
 
 1861, 
 1777, 
 1812, 
 1814, 
 ]8-il, 
 1821, 
 1731, 
 1750, 
 ]8-,4, 
 1821, 
 1742, 
 1847, 
 1SII7, 
 1730, 
 1753, 
 1S14, 
 1748 
 1854, 
 J83II, 
 1823, 
 1S47, 
 1815, 
 
 1837, 
 1789, 
 
 ]8U, 
 18B2, 
 
 No. of 
 Toluinei'. 
 . . 4,395 
 . . 5,9U0 
 
 Name. Location. 
 
 Public Library Taunton, Mass 
 
 Public Library AValtham, Mass 
 
 Public Library \\ atertown. Mass 
 
 Public Librury Way laud. Mass 4,056 
 
 public Library Westboro, Mass 1,642 
 
 Wcstlicld .\tlicn8eum Library Westfield, Mass 2,200 
 
 Public l.ilinry Wcstford, Mass 1,644 
 
 Public l.lluary »cston, Mas.s , 8,180 
 
 Public Library Wiucliendon, Mass 1,295 
 
 Pull lie Library AVincbester, Mass 2,2110 
 
 Pulilic Library Wobum, Mass 3,!'44 
 
 Public Library - Worcester, Mass 24,bll0 
 
 American Antiquarian Society do 52,bb0 
 
 I'ublic Library Detroit, Mich 21.510 
 
 Young Men's Society do 11, .500 
 
 Micbii::in State Library Lansing, Mich 32.1100 
 
 MiMUc:ipnlH Athonieum Minneapolis, 3Iinn 2,363 
 
 Minncsiitii Historical Society St. Paul, Minn 6,100 
 
 St. Louis Public Library St. Louis, Mo 13,800 
 
 St. Louis Mercantile Library Association do 34.238 
 
 Public City Library Concord, N. II S.ljSl 
 
 City Library Blanchester, N. II 14,200 
 
 Port.smouth .\thewnum Library Portsmouth, N. II 10,4110 
 
 Newark Library Association Newark, N. J 17,500 
 
 Public Library Newton, N. J 
 
 New York State Library Albany, N. Y 90.500 
 
 Youns Men's Association do 12,121 
 
 Brnciklyn Mercantile Librar? Brooklyn, N. Y 40,000 
 
 Bult.ilo Young Men's Association Buffalo, N. Y 18.000 
 
 Grovenor Library do 1 ,000 
 
 Aiiprentices' Library New Y'ork City, N. Y 46,740 
 
 Astor Library do ., 168,11 
 
 Cooper Union do ; In,u00 
 
 Mercantile Library do 1.54,513 
 
 Society Library do 3'_',uM} 
 
 New Y'ork Histoncal Society Library do 2s,nuO 
 
 Rnehestcr Athenaeum Library Rochester, N. Y' 21,'KIO 
 
 Trov Younn .Men's Association Troy, N. Y 18,678 
 
 Pulilic Libr"ivry Syracuse, N. Y 9,370 
 
 Cincinnati Public Library Cincinnati, Ohio 33,688 
 
 Mercantile Library do 35,206 
 
 Theological and lieligious Library do 4.500 
 
 Ohio .School Library do 26,4' '0 
 
 Cleveland Lilirary Association Cleveland, Ohio 11, -100 
 
 Public Library do 2,600 
 
 Oliio State Library Columbus, Ohio 34,000 
 
 D.ivton Pulilic School Library Dayton , Ohio 12,000 
 
 Portland Library Association Portland, Oreg 3,500 
 
 Peuusylvauia State Library Ilarrisbnrg, Pa 41,0il0 
 
 Academy of Natural Sciences Philadelphia, Pa 2*.!,.580 
 
 Philadelphia Atheneeum do 14,51 
 
 Mechanics' Library, do 25,IH)0 
 
 Mercantile Library do •. 89,n(J0 
 
 Philadelphia Library Company do 85,006 
 
 Lot^anian Library do 
 
 Young Men's Christian Association do 3,800 
 
 Apprentice's Library do 22,029 
 
 American Philosophical Society do 18,000 
 
 Pittsburg Mercantile Library Pittsburg, Pa 10,200 
 
 Newport Public Libriiry Newport, R. 1 6,2'.:5 
 
 Redwood Library and Athenfeum do 18,460 
 
 Providence Athenfeum Providence, R.I 32,444 
 
 Sciulh c'arolina State Library Columbia, S. 13,1100 
 
 Charleston Library Society Charleston, S C 21 ,000 
 
 Tennessee State Library Nashville, Tenn 13,1X10 
 
 ■Vermont St.ate Library Montpelier, Vt 12.265 
 
 ■Virginia State Library Richmond, 'Va 21,000 
 
 Milwaukee Young Men's Association Milwaukee, Wis : 12,566 
 
 Libr.iry of Congress Washington, D. C 266,0' 10 
 
 Library of House of Representatives do 28,(100 
 
 Patent ( Ifflcc Library do 23,.598 
 
 Library of State Department do 20,000 
 
 Library of Treasury Department do 3,410 
 
 Washington Library do 12,lXK) 
 
 Library of Agricultural Department do.... ; 9,500 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 LYCEUMS, MECHANICS' INSTITUTES, TOUNG 
 MEN'S INSTITUTES, ART UNIONS, ETC. 
 
 The name of Lyceum is one of ancient 
 oria;in, liavinrr been first bestowed on tlie 
 place where Aristotle gave liis instructions, 
 from its connection with the temple of 
 Apollo Lycius. In more modern times it 
 
 has been applied to schools where tlie phi- 
 losophy of Aristotle was taught, and to in- 
 stitutions in which the instruction was given 
 mainly by lectures. In 1786 it was given, 
 in France, to an institution of the nature of 
 a luuseuin, at which daily lectures were de- 
 livered b^\' La Ilarpe. This was discontinued 
 in 1794, in consequence of the French Rev- 
 olution. During the present century the 
 
LYCEUMS, MECHAKICS' INSTITUTES, YOUNG MEn's INSTITUTES, ART UNIONS, ETC. 433 
 
 name has been applied in France to collegi- 
 ate schools answering very nearly to our col- 
 leges or public high schools. 
 
 The Conservatory of Arts and Trades at 
 Paris, organized in 1T96, by Vaucanson, is 
 an example of the higher class of lyceum in 
 its more extended sense. It has thirteen 
 galleries of materials and machines, and 
 courses of lectures, scientific and practical, 
 which are largely attended during the win- 
 ter by the working classes. 
 
 The origination of the lyceum as a means 
 of mutual instruction in this country is due, 
 in the first instance, to Benjamin Franklin. 
 His " club for mutual improvement" was 
 founded in Philadelphia in 1727, and after 
 forty years' existence became the basis of 
 the American Philosophical Society, one of 
 the highest scientific societies on this conti- 
 nent. There may have been, and probably 
 were, other societies for mutual improve- 
 ment organized in different towns and cities 
 of the country, during the hundred years 
 that followed the organization of Franklin's 
 club ; but there are no records of any such 
 in the possession of the public, previous to 
 1824, when Timothy Claxton, an Englisli 
 mechanic, succeeded in founding one, or 
 rather in modifying a reading society, whicli 
 had been in existence for five years, into 
 what was really a lyceum, in the village of 
 Metlmen, Mass. Its exercises were weekly, 
 and in the following order : the first week, 
 reading by all the members ; the second 
 week, reading by one member selected for 
 the purpose ; the tliird week, an original 
 lecture; the fourth week, discussion. In 
 1826, Mr. Josiah llolbrook, then of Derby, 
 Ccmn., communicated to the American Jour- 
 nal of Education, then conducted by Mr. 
 ^^'illiam Russell, his views on the subject of 
 " Associations of Adults for the Purpose of 
 Mutual Education" in which were contain- 
 ed the germs of the plan of the Lijceum, as 
 subsequently developed by him in his lect- 
 ures and publications. From the first, his 
 views were of wider scope than the organiza- 
 tion of a mere local association ; they com- 
 prehended the establishment of such associ- 
 ations in every town and village, and their 
 union, by representation, in county, state, 
 and national organizations. They contem- 
 plated also, not only mutual instruction in 
 the sciences, but the establijhment of insti- 
 tutions for the education of youth in science, 
 art, and morals; the collection of libraries, 
 and of cabinets of minerals and other arti- 
 26 * 
 
 cles of natural or artificial production, to be 
 increased and enlarged by mutual exchanges, 
 by the different associations. Lectures and 
 practical agricultural occupation, the results 
 of which, it was supposed, would materially 
 diminish the cost of instruction, also formed 
 a part of his programme. 
 
 The first association formed in accordance 
 with this plan was organized at Millbury, 
 Mass., by Mr. llolbrook himself, in Novem- 
 ber of the same year, and was called " Mill- 
 bury Lyceum, No. 1, Branch of the Amer- 
 ican Lyceum." Other towns soon after or- 
 ganized lyceums, and these were combined a 
 few months later iiito the Worcester County 
 Lyceum. Not long after, the Windham 
 County, Conn., Lyceum, with its constituent 
 town lyceums, was established ; Rev. Samuel 
 J. May, then of Brooklyn, Conn., rendering 
 valuable assistance in the work. 
 
 From this time onward to his death in 
 1854, Mr. llolbrook devoted his whole ener- 
 gies in one way and another to the promo- 
 tion of these institutions, and to such meas- 
 ures in coimection with the cause of educa- 
 tion as should promote mutual instruction 
 in children as well as adults. Bv scientific 
 tracts, by newspapers and other publications, 
 by the manufacture of school apparatus, and 
 by the collection of small cabinets of miner- 
 als, to serve as nuclei for larger cabinets, by 
 scholars' fairs, by lectures, and long journeys, 
 and by appeals to the members of Congress 
 and of the state legislatures, he succeeded in 
 rousing a powerful and continued interest in 
 the suliject of nmtual instruction, which, if 
 it did not accomplish all his own plans, at 
 least gave a wonderful impulse to the general 
 intellectual culture of the nation. The ly- 
 ceums he fV)unded have passed, away, at least 
 in their original form, but in their places, and 
 in a great measure as an indirect result of his 
 labors, we have in every considerable town 
 or village debating societies, young men's in- 
 stitutes, mechanics' institutes, library associ- 
 ations — the three latter often with circulat- 
 ing libraries, courses of lectures, and classes 
 for instruction in science, art, and languages, 
 and often with schools attached for the in- 
 struction of the children of the members. 
 We have also lecture foundations, either 
 connected with our colleges or professional 
 schools, or independent, in which courses of 
 instruction in physical science, history, liter- 
 ature, or the laws of language, are communi- 
 cated to popular audiences. 
 
 In rendering the scientific lecture a popu- 
 
434 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 lar institution, our country is greatly indebt- 
 ed to the late John Griscom, LL.D., Prof. B. 
 Silliman, Sr., and Rev. Henry Wilbur. Dr. 
 Griscom delivered his first course of popular 
 lectures on chemistry in New York city in 
 the winter of 1808; they were largely at- 
 tended, and were continued for a long scries 
 of years. Prof. Silliman commenced popu- 
 lar lecturing on the same subject in New 
 Haven about the same time, in connection 
 with his professional courses. He subse- 
 quently delivered popular courses of lectures 
 on chemistry and on geology in most of the 
 large cities of the country. Within the last 
 fifteen or twenty years. Prof. Edward Hitch- 
 cock, of Amherst College, and several other 
 eminent geologists, have given courses on 
 geology to popular audiences. Prof. Guyot 
 has lectured on physical geography; Messrs. 
 Mann, Barnard, Page and others, on educa- 
 tional topics; Hon. George P. Marsh on 
 language ; Professor Lieber and others on 
 commerce, and other prominent scholars 
 on other subjects. The Lowell Institute at 
 Boston, founded by the munificence of the 
 Hon. J. A. Lowell, gives annually free courses 
 of lectures to large audiences on the most 
 important branches of moral, intellectual, and 
 physical science, and from the liberality of 
 its compensation to the lecturers, induces 
 elaborate and conscientious preparation on 
 their part, and the benefit of this preparation 
 inures also to other audiences, to which these 
 lectures arc repeated. It has unfortunatel}' 
 been the custom for a few years past of the 
 young men's institutes, mercantile library 
 associations, and other institutions giving 
 courses of lectures through the winter sea- 
 son, to select lecturers who would amuse 
 rather than instruct their audiences, and 
 hence this mode of public instruction has 
 become gradually less and less efficient, and 
 the chief advantages resulting from these in- 
 stitutions have been the use of their circu- 
 lating libraries, and their classes of instruc- 
 tion and debate. A revolution, however, is 
 now gradually taking place in this respect; 
 lectures on physical science are more fre- 
 quently incorporated in the courses, and the 
 highest talent is employed in the illustration 
 of these sciences. The lectures of Profes- 
 sors Doremus, Draper, and Silliman, jr., on 
 chemistry; of Mitchel, Youmans, and Loom- 
 is on astronomy, and of Agassiz, Ilenr)-, and 
 others on geology, have uniformly attracted 
 large audiences, and have led to the study 
 of these sciences. 
 
 The Smithsonian Institution, which com- 
 bines some of the features of the lyceum, in 
 its public lectures, classes, and museum, with 
 its other objects, will be spoken of at length 
 in another place. Its influence in promoting 
 scientific research has been widely felt. 
 
 One of the noblest enterprises connected 
 with this class of institutions is the Cooper 
 LTnion of New York city. The founder with 
 princely liberality has erected an immense 
 building, occupying an entire block, of the 
 most substantial character. A portion of 
 this building is rented, and the proceeds of 
 the rental go to sustain a free reading-room 
 as extensive as any in the country, a picture 
 gallery, a library, schools of design for male 
 and female pupils, and classes for instruction 
 in sciences, the mechanic arts, and languages, 
 all of which have rooms and instruction free, 
 under the most competent teachers. Courses 
 of lectures on scientific subjects for the work- 
 ing classes also form a part of the plan of Mr. 
 Cooper. 
 
 Mr. George Pealiody has also made a most 
 liberal endowment, amounting in all to about 
 1600,000, for an institution at Baltimore, to 
 include a public library, courses of lectures 
 on science, art, and literature, prizes for schol- 
 arship in the high schools, an academy of 
 music, and a gallery of art. 
 
 The number of institutions coming under 
 the general head of lycenras in the United 
 States, is very great ; throughout the North- 
 ern states every city and every considerable 
 town has some organization of the kind, all 
 of them having their courses of lectures, and 
 most of them debates, essa3's, readings, or 
 classes of instructiim. To them is attribu- 
 table in no inconsiderable degree the very 
 general prevalence of oratorical talent in our 
 countiy, and that ability for impromptu argu- 
 ment and discussion, the foculty of " thinking 
 on our legs," as an English writer not inapt- 
 ly terms it. While much of the instruction 
 communicated by lectures must necessarily 
 be superficial, and is often wanting in accu- 
 racj', it cannot be denied that they have con- 
 tributed much to the diffusion of general in- 
 formation and culture. 
 
 CHAPTER XXi, 
 
 INSTITUTIONS FOR THE INSTRUCTION OP 
 THE DEAF AND DUMB. 
 
 The capacity of the deaf-mute to receive 
 instruction was not generally acknowledged 
 
INSTITUTIONS FOR THE INSTRUCTION OF THE DEAF AND DUMB. 
 
 435 
 
 anywhere till the latter part of the last cen- 
 tur}'. Individual instances of education of 
 those laboring under this infirmity had in- 
 deed occurred as early as the middle of the 
 16th century, and perhaps even at a still 
 earlier date, but no considerable attempts 
 had been made to instruct them previous 
 to the efforts of Pereira, Heinicke, De 
 I'Epee, and Braidwood, all of whom taught 
 deaf and dumb pupils, between 1742 and 
 1760. Of these, Heinicke and De I'Epee 
 alone are deserving of the honor of being 
 reckoned the founders of a great philan- 
 thropic movement. The former attempted 
 the instruction of deaf-mutes by teaching 
 them to articulate ; the latter by the manual 
 alphabet, and a development of the natural 
 language of signs. De I'Epee' s processes 
 were greatly improved by the Abbe Sicard, 
 and Bebian, a pupil of Sicard. 
 
 Deaf-mute instruction was not attempted 
 in this country till about the year 1S16. 
 In a few instances children of wealthy 
 parents, suffering under this infirmit}', had 
 been sent to England for instruction by the 
 Braidwoods, father and sons, who held in 
 their own family the monopoly of deaf- 
 mute teaching, though adopting substan- 
 tially the processes of Heinicke, and who 
 charged a very high price for the education 
 of each pupil. The father of one of these 
 American pupils, in a work entitled " Vox 
 oeulis suhjecta" published in 1783, lauded 
 in high terms the instruction of the Messrs. 
 Braidwood. 
 
 In 1814, Rev. Thomas H. Gallaudet, a 
 young clergyman of Hartford, Conn., be- 
 came deeply interested in the case of Alice 
 Cogswell, the little daughter of Dr. M. F. 
 Cogswell, a neighbor of his, who had lost 
 her hearing in infancy, and having devoted 
 much thought and investigation to the sub- 
 ject of the number and condition of the 
 deaf-mutes of that state, was desirous of 
 doing something for their education. Dr. 
 Cogswell and other benevolent gentlemen 
 in Hartford furnished the means of send- 
 ing him to England, to learn the art of 
 teaching deaf-mutes, and he sailed from 
 New York for Liverpool, May 25, 1815. 
 Arrived in England he found the elder 
 Braidwood dead, and the mother, sons, and 
 other relatives, who had now established 
 three schools, unwilling to enlighten him as 
 to their processes, unless he would pay 
 1500 dollars, remain a year as an assistant 
 in one of their schools, and take the grand- 
 
 son of the first Braidwood, a drunken vaga- 
 bond, as a partner in the institution to be 
 established in America. Rejecting these 
 terms, as unworthy of the pioneers in a 
 great benevolent enterprise, Mr. Gallaudet 
 had almost determined to return home, 
 when he met the Abbe Sicard in London, 
 and was most cordially invited by him to 
 come to Paris and acquire his methods of 
 teaching, receiving from him the necessary 
 private instructions to enable him to accom- 
 plish this object more- rapidly. This gen- 
 erous oftcr was promjjtly accepted by Mr. 
 Gallaudet, and after three months of close 
 application he returned to America, bring- 
 ing with him M. Laurent Clerc, an educated 
 deaf-mute, and one of Sicard's most success- 
 ful teachers. It was now determined to es- 
 tablish a school for deaf-mute instruction, as 
 soon as the necessary funds could be obtain- 
 ed. For this purpose, Messrs. Gallaudet and 
 Clerc travelled extensively through the East- 
 ern and Middle states, everywhere receiving a 
 warm welcome. In the spring of 1817, about 
 $12,000 had been contributed and pledged, 
 to which the Connecticut legislature subse- 
 quently added §5000 more.* 
 
 The school was opened in reuted buildings, 
 April 15, 1817, having been chartered in 
 May, 1810, by the legislature under the name 
 of " The Connecticut Asylum for the Deaf 
 and Diunb." An application was made to 
 Congress for a grant, as it was supposed, in 
 the general ignorance concerning the num- 
 ber of deaf-mutes, that one asylum would be 
 sufficient fur the whole country, and that 
 body donated a township of land in Ala- 
 bama, which, under wise and careful man- 
 agement, has produced a fund of over $300,- 
 000, the interest of which is applied to the 
 reduction of the annual expenses of the in- 
 stitution, and enables the directors to fur- 
 nish board and tuition to their pupils at the 
 low price of $100 per annum. After the 
 reception of this grant, the name of the in- 
 stitution was changed to " The American 
 Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb." 
 
 Thomas Braidwood, the grandson of the 
 founder of the first English school for deaf- 
 mutes, to whom we have already referred, 
 had come to Virginia as early as 1811, and 
 had attempted to establish there a school 
 for the deaf and dumb, but his habits were 
 
 * This sum was a few years later expended by 
 the Asylum in tlie education of indigent deaf-mutea 
 natives of Connecticut. 
 
436 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 sucli that all the assistance offered him was 
 of no avail, and after a time he returned to 
 England ; Mr. Gallaudet's efforts incited the 
 family to make another trial, but he was so 
 thoroughly a vagabond, that it again proved 
 unsuccessful. M. Gard, a teacher of deaf- 
 mutes at Bordeaux, and himself a deaf-mute, 
 also offered to come to New York, in 1816, 
 and establish an institution there, on the 
 plan of Sicard, but the project fell through. 
 
 Meantime, philanthropic persons in New 
 York city were desirous of establishing an 
 institution for the benefit of the deaf-umtes 
 of the city and state, and an act of incor- 
 poration for such an institution was passed 
 on the 15th of April, 1817, the same day 
 that the school at Hartford was opened. 
 Among the most active promoters of this 
 enterprise were Dr. Samuel Akerly, Dr. 
 Samuel L. Mitchill, De Witt Clinton, Sil- 
 vanus Miller, Peter Sharpe, and Rev. James 
 Milnor, D.D. 
 
 The course of the American Asylum at 
 Hartford was prosperous from the first. Mr. 
 Gallaudet was a man of genius, and pos- 
 sessed the ability t(3 originate and carry into 
 effect new methods of instruction, and to 
 modify the processes in use in the French 
 schools. In these measures lie was efficient- 
 ly seconded by M. Clerc, and by a corps of 
 young but able teachers whom he had gath- 
 ered around him, and imbued with his spirit. 
 Prominent among these teachers were Messrs. 
 William C. Woodbridge, Lewis Weld, Har- 
 voy P. Pcct, Isaac Orr, and William W. 
 Turner 
 
 The New York Asylum had adverse for- 
 tunes to contend with at first. It was open- 
 ed in May, 1818. Its first principal was 
 Rev. A. O. Stansbury, who had been for a 
 few months previous the steward of the 
 American Asylum, and was but imperfectly 
 qualified for his duties ; the greater part of 
 the pupils were day scholars, and attended 
 irregulai'ly ; the assistant teachers were half- 
 educated deaf-mutes ; an attempt was made 
 to teach articulation, but it proved a failure. 
 Mr. Loofborrow, wdio succeeded Mr. Stans- 
 bury in 1821, possessed intelligence and en- 
 ergy, but he had few competent assistants, 
 and the state legislature which had made ap- 
 propriations for the support of deaf-mute 
 pujiiis, was becoming dissatisfied with the 
 condition of the institution, as compared 
 with those at Hartford and Philadelphia. 
 In 1830, an entire change was effected. The 
 asylum was located on Fiftieth street, where 
 
 buildings were erected for it ; day scholars 
 were no longer admitted ; the inefficient 
 teachers were dismissed, and Mr. Harvey P. 
 Peet, then one of the ablest of the teachers 
 in the American Asylum, elected principal. 
 Mr. Peet entered upon his duties in Febru- 
 ary, 1831, and though at first compelled to 
 perform all classes of duties, his genius, 
 tact, and indefatigable labor soon brought 
 order out of chaos, and enabled him to 
 place the institution in the very first rank. 
 In 1853, the property of the institution on 
 Fiftieth street was sold, the buildings being 
 too small f )r the accommodation of their 
 pupils, and being subject to encroachment 
 from the rapid increase of population in 
 their vicinity. A new location, comprising 
 37 acres, was purchased on Washington 
 Heights, about nine miles from the City 
 Hall, and overlooking the Hudson river. 
 On this site a magnificent building has been 
 erected, much the finest and most perfect in 
 its arrangements of any asylum for deaf- 
 mutes in the world. It has cost, including 
 the grounds, nearly $600,000, and will ac- 
 commodate about 500 pupils. Mr. (now 
 Dr.) Peet is still at the head of it, and his 
 eldest son, Mr. Isaac Lewis Peet, is the effi- 
 cient vice principal. 
 
 The Pennsylvania Institution was fonnded 
 at Philadelphia in 1820, by David Seixas 
 and Mr. Lewis Weld, one of the teachers at 
 the American Asylum, became its principal 
 in 1822. In 1830, Mr. Gallaudet resigned 
 the charge of the American Asylum, and Mr. 
 Weld was elected his successor, and was fol- 
 lowed at Philadelphia by Mr. Abraham B. 
 Button, who had been one of the teachers of 
 the institution. This school has enjoyed 
 continuous prosperity. The Kentucky School 
 is located at Danville, and was fonnded in 
 1823. Mr. J. A. Jacobs, who is still at its 
 head, was its first, and has been its only prin- 
 cipal. He, too, had previously been a 
 teacher at the American Asylum. It has 
 a moderate endowment arising from the sale 
 of lands granted to it by Congress. The 
 Ohio Institution was established in 1829, 
 and has had three principals — Messrs. Hub- 
 bell, Cary, and Stone. The first and last 
 were from Hartford, the second from the 
 New York Institution. The Virginia Insti- 
 tution, organized at Staunton, was the first 
 in this country which combined the instruc- 
 tion of deaf-mutes and the blind in one in- 
 stitution. Such a combination is not un- 
 common in Europe, and five other asylums 
 
ALPHABET OF THE DEAF AND DUMB. 
 
 bed e 
 
 1 m 
 
 u V 
 
 & 
 
INSTITUTIONS FOR THE INSTRUCTION OF THE DEAF AND DUMB. 
 
 437 
 
 AMERICAN ASTLDM FOB DEAF AND DOITE, HARTFOED, CONN. 
 
 have followed tlie example in tliis country. 
 Tlie best authorities, however, regard the 
 plan as objectionable in many respects. 
 
 The other institutions for the instruction 
 of deaf-mutes (there are in all twenty -three) 
 have been organized since 1844. Most of 
 them are state institutions, and though gen- 
 erally well managed, partisan politics have, 
 in some instances, materially impaired their 
 efficiency and usefulness. 
 
 Provision has been made, in nearly all the 
 states, for the education of the indigent deaf 
 and dumb, so that no person of suitable 
 age, suffering from this infirmity, need go 
 uninstructed, if they, or their friends, will 
 apply to the state authorities ; yet of the 
 nearly 3000 deaf-mutes of school age in the 
 United States, but about 2000 are under 
 instruction. The greatest deficiency, how- 
 ever, is in the new states, and will be reme- 
 died in the course of a few years. 
 
 The term of instruction varies from six to 
 ten years. Seven years is the usual term in 
 most of the states; but in the American 
 Asylum, the New York Institution, and, we 
 believe, the Pennsylvania Institution, a high 
 class has been established, into which those 
 who give evidence of superior abilities, and 
 desire for higher scholarship, are admitted 
 by examination, and pursue an additional 
 course of three years. The course of study, 
 including this period of three years, em- 
 
 braces the topics of a very thorough Eng- 
 lish and mathematical education. Other lan- 
 guages than English are not usually taught. 
 From these classes most of the deaf-mute 
 teachers are now drawn. 
 
 The intellectual and moral condition of 
 uninstructed deaf-mutes is one of extreme, 
 almost rayless ignorance. Careful inquiry in 
 some thousands of cases has demonstrated 
 that, unless communicated by friends versed 
 to some extent in the language of signs, 
 they have no idea of a Supreme Being, of 
 the origin of the objects of nature, of their 
 own possession of a soul, of death, or a 
 future existence. The mind is almost a 
 blank, and the few thoughts they 'possess 
 are merely such as concern their food, drink, 
 and rest, and the objects with which they 
 are constantly brought in contact. It is ob- 
 vious, then, that the mental condition of a 
 child of ten or twelve years of age, deaf from 
 birth, and consequently dumb, is below that 
 of a child of three years who can hear and 
 speak. The child who possesses all its fac- 
 ulties has, before entering school, acquired 
 a very considerable fund of ideas, and the 
 words for their intelligent expression ; so 
 that the teacher has comparatively little oc- 
 casion to communicate ideas to him, except 
 on topics connected with his studies, and 
 these he can clothe in words which the child 
 already understands. 
 
438 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 Ill the case of tile deaf-mute, on tlie other 
 Land ideas, even on many common and 
 simple subjects, must be first communicated 
 to him, and that not in words, for as yet 
 these are entirely incomprehensible, but in 
 the language of pantomime and gesture. 
 He is next to be made to comprehend the 
 laws of construction and connect words, 
 either written, or spelled by the manual al- 
 phabet, with the ideas already acquired (a 
 long and painful process,) and then, through 
 the two media of words and signs, to be 
 taui^ht the elements of science. 
 
 The system of Heinicke and the Braid- 
 woods, a system still, with some modifica- 
 tions, taught in Germany and some other 
 European countries, had for its basis the 
 dogma that ideas could only be expressed 
 or communicated by means of words; and 
 hence with great difficulty and pains, even 
 in the flexible German tongue, the deaf-mute 
 was taught to articulate words, whose mean- 
 ings he did not understand, and then, as step 
 by step he connected ideas with the simplest 
 of them, these were made the means of con- 
 veying to him the meaning of those more 
 abstract and difficult. In this way three or 
 four years were consumed before the pupil 
 was prepared to acquire the facts of sci- 
 ence, or the knowledge of his moral' obli- 
 gations. 
 
 The plan of De I'Ept^e, modified by Si- 
 card and Bebian, had little in common with 
 that of Heinicke. Their fundamental prin- 
 ciple was, that "words have no natural or 
 necessary connection with the ideas of which 
 they are the signs, and that in the natural 
 language of signs or pantomime, improved 
 and enlarged as it can be, there is a com- 
 plete substitute for them." No attempt was 
 made at teaching articulation, but words 
 were taught by means of signs, and these 
 once acquired, were made the medium of 
 further instruction by ordinary text-books. 
 In order to teach words more re;idily, M. 
 Sicard introduced what he denominated 
 methodical sit/ns, that is, a peculiar gesture 
 for each word, which the pupil was taught. 
 It is obvious that if the vocabulary of the 
 deaf-mute was to be as large as that of ordi- 
 nary intelligent speaking persons, the num- 
 ber of these arbitrary signs (for it is to be un- 
 derstood that these diflered almost as much 
 from the ordinary signs as the latter from 
 words, the natural signs representing ideas, 
 and the methodical signs single words) must 
 be very great, some thousands at least, and 
 
 to retain them in memory was a very fa- 
 tiguing task for both pupil and teacher. 
 
 The American system of instruction of 
 deaf-mutes differs materially from both the 
 preceding, and this difference originated 
 partly with Mr. Gallaudet and the teachers 
 trained up under him, and is partly the re- 
 sult of the experience and observation of the 
 eminent teachers who have been, and still 
 are, engaged in deaf-mute instruction. 
 
 In establishing the American Asylum, 
 Mr. Gallaudet combined the principle of 
 Heinicke, of the connection of ideas with 
 words, with that of De I'Epee, that the nat- 
 ural language of signs must be elevated to as 
 high a degree of excellence as possible in or- 
 der to serve as the medium for giving the 
 ideas clearly and explaining them accurately; 
 but he added to these another which had nev- 
 er before been applied to deaf-mute instruc- 
 tion, viz., that the process of learning words 
 might be greatly facilitated by leading the 
 pupils to reflect on their own sensations, 
 ideas, and mental processes. With the earli- 
 est lessons he imparted in the names of sensi- 
 ble objects, he was accustomed to endeavor to 
 open communication with them, by means of 
 the sign-language, in regard to the feelings and 
 emotions excited by these objects, and, if 
 possible, to connect them with something in 
 the pupil's past experience. From this, the 
 deaf-mute was naturally led on to think of 
 the feelings and emotions of others, thence, 
 by a natural transition, to the idea of God as 
 a Creator and benefactor, and finally to a 
 knowledge of his law, and the final destiny 
 of man. The result of this has been that 
 pupils in this country (for this plan has been 
 generally adopted in our American institu- 
 tions) are made acquainted with the simple 
 truths of religion and morality in one year, a 
 period in which, in the European institutions, 
 they have scarcely advanced beyond the 
 knowledge of sounds and the names of sen- 
 sible objects, qualities, and actions, or the 
 most common phrases. Apart from the high 
 religious importance of this process, it brings 
 moral motives to bear earlier, and renders 
 the government of the pu])ils easier, while it 
 aids them in the formation of correct habits. 
 The conducting of the daily and weekly de- 
 votional exercises in the sign-language was 
 another peculiarity introduced by Mr. Gallau- 
 det. 
 
 Methodical signs were used to a consider- 
 able extent by Mr. Gallaudet and the earlier 
 instrnctors of American institutions, but were 
 
INSTITUTIONS FOR THE INSTra'CTION OF THE BLIND. 
 
 439 
 
 not regarded as so indispensable by them as 
 by the French teachers. Of late years they 
 arc less employed than formerly, and arc 
 made to indicate phrases rather than words, 
 while the manual alphabet is regarded as of 
 more value in teaching than it was thirty 
 years ago. An advance has also been made, 
 of great importance, by the introduction, 
 by Mr. I. Lewis Peet, of the New York 
 Institution, of manual and written symbols 
 for those ultimate constituents of the sen- 
 tence which form so considerable a portion 
 of spoken and written language. By this 
 means written language is taught with much 
 greater facility than formerly. The establish- 
 ment of high classes has also been an impor- 
 tant step in the progress of deaf-mute educa- 
 tion, furnishing, as it does, the deaf and dumb 
 llif opportunity of attaining to as high intel- 
 lirtual culture as those enjoy who are in the 
 ]>c>ssossion of all their faculties. 
 
 In 1850, the number of deaf-mutes in the 
 iUnited States was 9803, or one in 2345. 
 
 Some of the educated deaf and dumb in 
 this country have attained to considerable 
 distinction. Laurent Clerc, the companion 
 of Gallaudet, belongs by his birth and educa- 
 tion rather to France than America, yet he 
 has passed more than forty years in this 
 country, and though now retired in a health- 
 ful and happy old age, from active duty, is 
 deservedly esteemed and honored. Thomas 
 Brown, the President of the American Asso- 
 ciation of Deaf-Mutes, is a vigorous and able 
 writer, as are also John T. Burnett and James 
 Nark. The latter has distinguished himself 
 as a poet of no mean ability, and the former 
 has lieen a frequent and welcome contributor 
 to several of our ablest reviews. Mrs. ftLiry 
 Toles Peet, the wife of the accomplished 
 vice principal of the New York Listitution, 
 though young, is entitled to a very high rank 
 among the most gifted of our female poets. 
 Colonel David M. I'hiliips, of New Orleans, 
 in spite of his infirmity, was for many years 
 one of the most accomplished military otHcers 
 of the South. John Carlin, as an artist, and 
 Albert Newsam, as an engraver, have few su- 
 periors in their respective professions. The 
 monument to Mr. Gallaudet, designed by the 
 former and engraved by the latter, is one of 
 the most admirable and appropriate monu- 
 mental structures. Mr. Levi S. Backus was 
 for several years the able and successful man- 
 ager of a periodical in central New York. 
 
 We present a table of the deaf and dumb 
 institutions of the country, with their statis- 
 
 tics to the present year (1860). There is 
 also a deaf-mute institution in California, 
 and one erectintj at Faribault, Minnesota. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIL 
 
 INSTITUTIONS FOR THE INSTRUCTION OP 
 THE BLIND. 
 
 The instruction of the blind had never 
 been attempted on any considerable scale, in 
 anv part of the world, till Valentin Haii}', in 
 1 784, commenced in Paris, France, his school 
 for blind pupils. Individuals who were blind 
 had indeed educated themselves bj' the as- 
 sistance of friends; but the great majority of 
 those who suffered from this afHiction were 
 left to a life of dependence and depression, 
 and often became beggars. The efforts of 
 Ilaii}', and his invention of an embossed al- 
 phabet, to enable the blind to read, led to 
 the foundation of a school for the blind, sup- 
 ported by the French government, in 1791, 
 and to the organization of similar schools in 
 England, Prussia, Austria, and Russia about 
 the same period. In these schools, reading 
 and music, and some of the simpler mechanic 
 arts, such as knitting, mat-weaving, basket- 
 making, etc., were taught. 
 
 The first attempts to establish schools for 
 the blind in this country were made about 
 1830. Dr. J. D. Fisher, in 1829, obtained 
 an act of incorporation for an institution for 
 the instruction of the blind from the Massa- 
 chusetts legislature, and in 1831 Dr. Samuel 
 Akerley and Mr. Sanmel Wood, a benevo- 
 lent merchant in New York, in conjunction 
 with some other gentlemen, made an appli- 
 cation to the New York legislature for a sim- 
 ilar act, which was granted. Soon after this 
 movement was made, Dr. John D. Russ, who 
 had just returned from a mission to Greece, 
 whither he had borne the contributions of 
 American citizens to the suffering Greeks, 
 and who on his way home had visited some 
 of the European blind institutions, identified, 
 himself with it, and eventually became the 
 ])rincipal of the school for the blind in New 
 York city, which was established in 1832, 
 under the charter already named. 
 
 In Boston, Dr. Samuel G. Howe, who had 
 also been actively engaged in the cause of 
 the Greeks, and who, like Dr. Russ, had 
 visited the European institutions for the 
 blind, entered with great zeal upon the work 
 of establishing a school for their instruction, 
 
440 
 
 EOrCATIOS AN'D EDUCATIONAL INSTITUT'ONS. 
 
 
 
 ■Cfr- 
 
 ^■R- 4lr^ 
 
 'W?f^i^:m^ 
 
 PENNSYLVANIA ASYLUM FOK THE BLIND. 
 
 and made a beginning, we believe, under Dr. 
 Fisher's charter, in 1832. The liberal gift, 
 by Colonel T. H. Perkins, of his valuable 
 mansion house in Pearl street, Boston, to 
 this school, on condition of the raising of 
 S50,00u by the public, soon secured to the 
 institution a liberal endowment. 
 
 The year succeeding, an institution for the 
 blind was established in Philadelphia through 
 the efforts of Messrs. Roberts, Vaux, and 
 others, at the head of which was placed an 
 intelligent and philanthropic Prussian, Mr. 
 Julius Friedlander, who had been engaged 
 in teaching the blind at Berlin, under the 
 celebrated Zeune. 
 
 The first efforts of the American instruct- 
 ors of the blind were devoted to the improve- 
 ment of the alphabet of raised letters, used in 
 printing for the blind, with a view to the prep- 
 aration of books for them. There were con- 
 siderable difficulties to be overcome in the 
 accomplishment of this work ; the letters 
 must have salient angles ; each letter must 
 differ sufficiently from every other to be 
 easilv recognized by the touch ; yet the size 
 of the letters must be small, or the books 
 printed for the blind would be too cumbrous 
 and expensi\e. The forms of letters used in 
 Europe did not answer these re(inirements 
 satisfactorily. Ilaiiy's type, if well embossed, 
 cpuld be read with tolerable facility, but it 
 
 was much too largo, and its si.-e conld not 
 be reduced without impairing its legibility; 
 Guillie's was not legible at all ; Gall's varied 
 too much from the ordinary form of letter to 
 be desirable, and the other attem]its at nnit- 
 ing the requisite qualities failed. Each of the 
 three American superintendents devoted his 
 leisure to the work. Mr. Frieillander devised 
 an al]_ihabet, known in England as the AUston 
 or Sans-serif Alphabet, neat in form and eas- 
 ily read, but somewhat too large. Dr. Russ 
 invented one combining the advantages of 
 Gall's triangular alphabet with the Illjrian 
 letter, and with characters to make it pho- 
 netic, but it was somewhat defective in legi- 
 bility; and Dr. Howe, after repeated trials, 
 constructed what is now known as the Bos- 
 ton letter, which in size, distinctness, and leg- 
 ibility so far surpassed every previous effort, 
 that it has now come into general use in Eu- 
 rope and America. Two other subjects in- 
 terested these American pioneers in the work 
 of instructing the blind : the recognition by 
 the state legislatures of the right t>f blind 
 youth to the advantages of an educatiiin, and 
 the extension of the course of study so far as 
 to rrive their pupils a good English education, 
 instructing them, at the same time, in such 
 mechanic arts as might enable them to sup- 
 port themselves after leaving the institution. 
 At the time of the organization of these- 
 
INSTITUTIONS FOR THE INSTRUCTION OF THE BLIND. 
 
 441 
 
 schools, the institutions for the blind in 
 Great Britain, and most of those on the con- 
 tinent of Europe, taught nothing but reading 
 and the mechanic arts, except in the case of 
 th(jse who possessed musical talents, who re- 
 ceived such instructions in music as would 
 enable them to play upon the piano or organ, 
 and to sing ; but the ordinary branches of 
 elementary education were entirely neglected. 
 The American superintendents determined 
 that their pu|nls should receive a good com- 
 mon-school education, and if possible some- 
 thing beyond this, and they have succeeded. 
 The period of instruction varies in the insti- 
 tutions for the blind in the United States 
 from five to eight years. In the larger and 
 ohlor institutions it is usually eight years, 
 and includes a course of mathematics and 
 belles-lettres as extensive as that in most of 
 the colleges in the country, and a thorough 
 course of musical traiiung, both vocal and 
 instrumental. The languages are not usual- 
 ly taught. There are now twenty-four of 
 these institutions in the United States. The 
 Ohio Institution at Columbus was founded 
 in ls:H7, and tliat of Virginia at Staunton in 
 18:19 ; the others have all been organized since 
 184-2. To all these establishments there are 
 attached work-rooms, in which the pupils are 
 employed in the manufacture of mattresses, 
 mats, baskets, paper boxes, brooms, brushes, 
 or the simpler articles of cabinet work. 
 
 To many of the blind, music furnishes 
 not only a recreation but a means of sup- 
 port. Their ear, long trained to the dis- 
 crimination of sounds, and their touch, ren- 
 dered delicate by the acquisition of the art 
 of reading, give them peculiar facilities for 
 the attainment of musical skill ; and the con- 
 centration of their minds upon it, undis- 
 turbed by observation of what is passing 
 around them, adds to their advantages. It 
 is not, therefore, remarkable, that many of 
 them should have attained to great eminence 
 in musical science. The Pennsylvania In- 
 stitution has been specially remarkable for 
 the musical attainments of its pupils. Its 
 weekly concerts are attended by from 1200 
 to 1500 of the music-loving inhabitants of 
 that city, and the receipts from these con- 
 certs furnish a liberal fund to aid the poorer 
 graduates in commencing an independent 
 life. Many of these pupils find speedy and 
 remunerative employment as organists, choir 
 singers, members of orchestras or bands, or 
 piano-teachers and tuners. 
 
 The great cost of printing books for the 
 
 blind has rendered the supply scanty and 
 the number of books small. The American 
 Bible Society has printed an edition of the 
 Scriptures in the Boston letter, and grants 
 are made from time to time to institutions 
 for the blind. The American Tract Society 
 has also printed a few of its smaller books 
 in the same letter. Aside from these, there 
 are not more than fifty works printed for 
 the blind in England and America, except a 
 few in arbitrary characters, which of course 
 are of no general value. Among these fifty 
 is a cyclopedia to be completed in twenty 
 volumes, but of which only eight or nine 
 have yet been issued. Repeated applica- 
 tions have been made to the general gcnern- 
 ment to make an appropriation either of 
 money or lands, to furnish a fund for the es- 
 tablishment of a press for the blind, but the 
 bills reported have always been defeated. 
 Within the past year a " Printing Ilouse for 
 the Blind" has been established at Louis- 
 ville, Kentucky, endowed iu part by pri- 
 vate benefactions, and in part by appropria- 
 tions from the several states. Its managers 
 propose to go on in the manufacture of 
 books for the blind, using the Boston letter, 
 and making grants to the blind of each state 
 in a r.atio corresponding to the amount con- 
 tributed by that state. 
 
 Owing in part to this paucity of books 
 the educated blind seldom use the books 
 in the raised letter subsequent to their grad- 
 uation, except the Scriptures, but depend 
 mostly upon the reading aloud of others for 
 their information and instruction. 
 
 Writing has always been a difiicult and 
 irksome task to the blind; and various de- 
 vices have been proposed to facilitate this 
 labor, but hardly any of them have proved 
 satisfactory. The plan adopted by the late 
 William II. Prescott of using a frame of 
 wires over the paper, enabled them to 
 write in straight lines, but no corrections 
 could be made, nor could the scribe read 
 what he had written. The use of inks 
 which would leave an elevated surface has 
 been tried, but without much satisfaction ; 
 small printing machines have also been used, 
 but are not convenient. 
 
 Within a few years past another process 
 has been introduced, which, despite the ap- 
 parent objections to it, proves far more 
 serviceable and convenient than any other 
 yet devised. By this invention, known 
 as "Braille's system," from its inventor, M. 
 Louis Braille, a French teacher of the blind, 
 
442 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 they are soon enabled to read and write 
 •witli great facility, and by the addition of a 
 single character, music can be printed or 
 copied by the blind far more readily than a 
 seeing person can do it in the ordinary way. 
 The plan is based upon a series of funda- 
 mental signs, comprising the first ten letters 
 of tlie alphabet ; none of these consist of 
 less than two nor more than four dots. A 
 second series is formed by placing one dot 
 at tlie left of each fundamental sign ; a third 
 by jilacing two dots under each sign ; a fourtli 
 by placing one dot under the right of each. 
 These signs designate, besides the alphabet, 
 the double vowels, peculiar compound sounds 
 like th, and the marks of punctuation. By 
 prefixing a sign consisting of three dots, the 
 fundamental signs are used as numerals ; by 
 prefixiTig another the last seven rejiresent 
 musical characters, and by a sign peculiar to 
 each octave the necessity of designating the 
 key to each musical sentence is avoided. 
 
 The apparatus consists of a board, in a 
 frame like that of a double slate, the surface 
 of which is grooved lioriziintaliy and verti- 
 cally by lines one eighth of an inch a[iart ; on 
 this the paper is fastened by shutting down 
 the upper half of the frame, and the points 
 are made with an awl or bodkin, through a 
 piece of tin perforated with six holes, an 
 eighth of an inch apart. The perfm'ations 
 are made from right to left, in order that the 
 writing when re\'ersed may read from left to 
 right. Books and music are now printed for 
 the blind on this system. Five or six of our 
 larger institutions have adojited it. 
 
 Some of the blind institutions in tliis coun- 
 try have attached to them workshops for 
 the adult blind, especially those who have 
 graduated at tliese institutions, where certain 
 advantages of shop-rent, machinery, matei'ial 
 at wholesale prices, and in some instances 
 board at a reduced rate, or a moderate pen- 
 sion, are allowed, by way of equalizing the 
 difference between them and the working 
 classes who possess all their feculties. In 
 one instance, in I'hiladelphia, an asylum has 
 been provided for the aged and infirm blind, 
 where, beguiling the weariness of the passing 
 hours bv such light toil as they can readily 
 accomplish, they may pass the evening of 
 life in comfort and happiness. 
 
 The ratio of the blind to the entire popu- 
 lation was, according to the last census, 1 to 
 23:28, which would give not far from 13,000 
 as the present number in the country. Es- 
 timating one fifth of these as of school age, 
 
 there should be 2600 in the different insti- 
 tutions. The number actually connected 
 with them does not exceed 1300. As most 
 of the states liave made provision for sup- 
 porting poor blind children at these institu- 
 tions, a provision available on application to 
 the governor or secretaiy of state, this num- 
 ber shouW be largely increased. 
 
 We have the testimony of some of the 
 most eminent European teachers of the blind, 
 that our larger institutions are superior to 
 any of those in Europe in the thoroughness 
 and extent of their teaching, and in the 
 .spirit of self-dependence with which they in- 
 spire their pupils. We insert a table giv- 
 ing a view of the present condition of the 
 blind institutions in this country so far as 
 can be ascertained. There is also an insti- 
 tution for the blind incorporated in California. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 INSTITUTIONS FOR THE TRAINING OF 
 IDIOTS. 
 
 These belong to the class of humanitarian 
 efforts which ha\'e become so numerous dur- 
 ing the past hundred years, and which have 
 embraced in their scope the infirm, the or- 
 phan, the unfortunate, the vicious, and those 
 who, from deprivation of one or more of their 
 faculties, or feebleness of all of them, have 
 become dc])endent upon others. 
 
 An effort is said to have been made by 
 Vincent de I'aul, one of the noblest and 
 purest men in the Roman Catholic Church, 
 more than two hundred years ago, to instruct 
 a few adult imbeciles at the priory of St. 
 Lazarus, in Pai'is, but with very slight suc- 
 cess. The attempt was not repeated till 
 1818, when an idiot child, dmnb from idiocy, 
 was admitted as a pujiil at the American 
 Asylum for the I)eaf and Dumb at Hartford, 
 lie was considerably improved during a res- 
 idence of a year there ; but not being prop- 
 erly a deaf-mute, and not being capable of 
 going on with their classes, he was dismissed. 
 He had, however, learned the sign-language 
 sufficiently to be able to communicate his 
 wants by it. Other imbeciles were subse- 
 quently, at various times, admitted to that 
 and some other institutions f )r the blind and 
 for deaf-mutes in this country prior to 1840. 
 Most of these received some benefit from in- 
 cidental instruction and intercourse with the 
 pupils of these institutions. In Great Brit- 
 
INSTITUTIONS FOR THE TRAINING OF IDIOTS. 
 
 443 
 
 ain, as early as 1819, Dr. Richard Poole, of 
 Edinburgh, published an Essay on Educa- 
 tion, in which he urged the importance of 
 attempting to educate and improve idiot 
 children, and called for the organization of 
 an institution for imbeciles. Efforts were 
 made in France, from 1824 to 1838, by sev- 
 eral eminent men, to instruct a few of these 
 unfortunates, but with compai'ati\ely slight 
 success. They were taught to imitate others 
 in a few motions, and to repeat a few words 
 by rote, but, left to themsehes, soon relapsed 
 into their previous hopeless condition. In 
 18:^8, Dr. Edward Seguin, a friend and pupil 
 of the celebi-ated surgeon Itard, who had 
 liimself long contemplated the possibility of 
 idiot instruction, commenced teaching a few- 
 idiot children in Paris. Unlike those who 
 preceded him in this work, he had studied 
 carefully, in all its bearings and relations, the 
 subject of idiiicy ; and having become satis- 
 fied that it was only a prolonged infanc}-, in 
 which the infantile grace and intellio-ence 
 having passed away, there remained only 
 the feeble muscular development and mental 
 weakness of that stage of growth, he sought 
 to follow nature in his processes for the de- 
 velopment of the enfeebled body and mind. 
 In these eflorts he was far more successful 
 than his predecessors. In 1846, he publish- 
 ed his treatise on the Treatment of Idiocy, 
 which is stiE the text-book of all teachers of 
 imbeciles. 
 
 About the same time that Dr. Seguin com- 
 menced his school in Paris, a young Swiss 
 physician of Zurich, Dr. Louis Guggenbiihl, 
 attempted with success the training of some 
 Cretin* children, on the Abendberg, above 
 Interlachen. The success of these two phi- 
 lanthropists led others in Prussia, Austria, 
 the smaller German states, Sardinia, and 
 England, to establish similar schools for the 
 training of these hitherto neglected children. 
 
 The first movements for idiot training in 
 tliis CDuntry were made almost simultaneous- 
 ly in New York and Massachusetts ; that in 
 New York having slightly the precedence, 
 though the first schools were organized in 
 Massachusetts. Dr. F. F. Backus of Roch- 
 ester, elected to the state Senate of New 
 York in the autumn of 1845, had become 
 
 * Tlie Cretin is an imbecile whose pliysical de- 
 generation is greater, tliough his mental coudition is 
 more hopeful, tlian that of the idiot. Tlie disease, 
 Cretinism, is supposed to be caused by the impreg- 
 nation of the springs with magnesian salts, and is 
 very common in mountainous districts. 
 
 interested in the accounts of the schools of 
 Seguin ami Guggenbiihl, and informing him- 
 self as fully as possible in regard to them, 
 made a report to the Senate, in the session 
 of 1840, accompanving it with resolutions 
 providing for the establishment of a train- 
 ing school. These passed the two Houses, 
 but were reconsidered and lost in the low- 
 er House. During the same winter, on the 
 motion of Judge Byington, in the Massa- 
 chusetts legislature, a commission was ap- 
 pointed, consisting of the mover, and Dr. S. 
 G. Howe and Gilman Kimball. Esq., to in- 
 vestigate the condition of the idiots and im- 
 beciles of the state. In 1848, as a result of 
 the reports of this commission, the Massa- 
 chusetts School for Imbecile and Feeble- 
 minded Youth was chartered, but was not 
 organized till October of that year. It is 
 under the general superintendence of Dr. S. 
 G. Howe. Meantime, in July, 1848, Dr. H. 
 B. Wilbur, a young physician of Barrc, Mass., 
 had opened a private school for imbecile and 
 backward children in that town. In 1851 an 
 experimental Asvlum for Idiots was estab- 
 lished at Albany, N. Y., and Dr. Wilbur was 
 appointed its superintendent. Three years 
 later, this gave place to the New York State 
 Asylum for Idiots at Syracuse, for which the 
 state erected a noble edifice, and provided 
 for the training of the indigent imbecile chil- 
 dren of the state. In 1852, the Pennsylva- 
 nia Training School for Idiots and Imbeciles 
 was organized at Germantown, Penn. ; but in 
 1859 it was removed to Media, Penn., where 
 a large and well-provided asylum has been 
 erected for it. It is under the care of Dr. 
 Joseph Parish. In 1857, the Ohio State 
 School for Idiots was established at Colum- 
 bus, and I>r. R. J. Patterson took charge of 
 it. The original school at Ban-e passed into 
 the hands of Dr. George Brown when Dr. 
 Wilbur removed to Albany, and still main- 
 tains its early efficiency. Besides this, there 
 are two other private scho(.)ls for imbeciles : 
 one in New York, under the charge of Mr. 
 J. B. Richards, who was f )rmerly connected 
 with the Massachusetts and Pennsylvania in- 
 stitutions, and one in Lakeville, Litchfield 
 county. Conn., under the care of Dr. H. M. 
 Knight, established in 1858. 
 
 Sevei'al of the other state legislatures have 
 agitated the subject, and will, probably, 
 eventually establish schools. 
 
 Of those already in existence, the asylum 
 in Syracuse, of the state institutions, and that 
 at Barre, of the private ones, have been the 
 
444 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 ASYLUM FUB IDluTd, 8VKACLSK. 
 
 most successful, and, in tlio opinion of com- 
 petent and unprejudiced judges, are superior 
 to any of the European institutions. Dr. 
 Seguin, the founder of the Paris school, has 
 been in this country much of the time for 
 twelve years past, and has rendered efficient 
 service in the introduction of the best meth- 
 ods of instruction. 
 
 The processes employed in the traininc; 
 of idiots in our American institutions all 
 grew out of Seguin's fuudauieiital theory, 
 " th.at idiocy is a prolonged infancy;" and 
 the course pursued by nature in developing 
 the infent into the healthy, robust, intelli- 
 gent child, is closely fdlowed. In many 
 cases, the muscular system is feeble, and un- 
 equally and imperfectly developed ; this is 
 carefully invigorated by attention to diet, 
 frequent bathing, and such exercise as shall 
 strengthen the muscles, while subordinating 
 them to the control of the will. Tlie atten- 
 tion is fixed, and taught to distinguish form, 
 size, and color by the presentation of objects 
 of bright colors, and of varied form and bulk. 
 The irregular muscular movements, often the 
 result of habit, are controlled by gymnastic 
 
 exercises with dumb-l>ells, ladders, etc., and 
 by military exercises, which exact the atten- 
 tion and careful action of the hands, feet, 
 head, and eye. Numbers are taught by the 
 object method, and reading bv tlie word sys- 
 tem and the use of pictures. As in deaf-mute 
 instruction, the effort is made, at the earliest 
 possible moment, to direct the thoughts in- 
 ward, to lead the child to watch and express 
 his own feelings and emotions, and then to 
 guide him to observe the emotions of others, 
 and soon to learn something of his Creator, 
 and his own moral nature and destiny. It 
 is remarkable with what facility the simple 
 truths of morality and religion are perceived, 
 even by very weak intellects. Their progress 
 in these is much more rapid than in intellect- 
 ual studies ; yet many of the pupils in the 
 best institutions learn to read passably well, 
 to write a good hand, and generally to spell 
 correctly ; become familiar with the jirincipal 
 facts of geography, with the elements of gram- 
 mar, and arithmetic as far, perhajis, as com- 
 pound numbers. A few make still greater 
 progress, but these are the exceptions, not 
 the rule. 
 
INSTITUTIONS FOR THE EDUCATION AND TRAINING OF ORPHANS. 
 
 445 
 
 It is, perhaps, too soon to decide very con- 
 fidently what will be the results of idiot in- 
 struction ; but this much is tolerably certain, 
 that a proportion not exceeding one fourth, 
 and these often apparently the worst cases 
 when admitted, will become so far ini]>roved 
 AS to perfonn the ordinary duties of life and 
 citizenship nearly as well as the masses gen- 
 erally ; another fourth will improve so much 
 as to be capable of working intelligently, un- 
 der the supervision of others, but not of any 
 considerable independent action — these will, 
 under favorable circumstances, nearly or quite 
 support themselves ; another fourth will be 
 greatly improved in their habits, and will re- 
 quire but little attention, though unable to 
 do much toward their own support; while 
 the remainder, though often, perhaps, as 
 promising as any at first, will be little, if at 
 all, improved. 
 
 Tlie number of idiots and imbeciles in the 
 country has never been satisfactorily ascer- 
 tained, and in the nature of the case cannot 
 be, from the reluctance of friends, in many 
 cases, to admit their condition. Careful in- 
 vestigations made in some of the states, and 
 in single counties in others, would indicate 
 that here, as in Europe, the number is but 
 little less than that of the insane, or, in 
 round numbers,^ one in 600. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 INSTITUTIONS FOR THE EDUCATION AND 
 TRAINING OF ORPHANS. 
 
 Some of the Eoman emperors and many 
 of the bishops and pastors of the early Chris- 
 tian Church interested themselves in the care 
 of orphans, but during the dark ages this as 
 well as other charities was neglected and for- 
 gotten, and it was not till the sixteenth cen- 
 tury that any attempts were made to estab- 
 lish orphan asylums. During the seventeenth 
 century they became quite numerous both 
 among Protestants and Roman Catholics, 
 and few large towns were without one or 
 more orphan houses. The Moravians in par- 
 ticular were specially tender of the father- 
 less, and in all their settlements of consider- 
 able size established houses for tliem. In the 
 last years of the seventeenth century, August 
 Hermann Franke established his orphan house 
 at Ilalle, which still exists, and is one of the 
 largest orphan asylums in the world. 
 
 In this country orphan houses were estab- 
 
 lished by the Moravians in Pennsvlvania and 
 Georgia, early in the eighteenth century. In 
 1740 the celebrated George Whitefield laid 
 the foundation of his orphan house at Be- 
 thesda, about ten miles from Savannah, Geor- 
 gia. After many pecuniary difficulties it 
 finally attained to a prosperous condition 
 during his life, and he added to it an acade- 
 my, and purposed, could a charter have been 
 obtained, to establish a college iu connection 
 with it. 
 
 The number of orphan asylums established 
 previous to the commencement of the pres- 
 ent century was, however, very small. There 
 were no very large cities, and it was onl_y in 
 the large cities that orphans unfriended were 
 so numerous as to require consitlerable build- 
 ings for their shelter and domicile. In New 
 York city the first orphan asylum grew out 
 of the " Society for the Relief of Widows 
 with Small Children," and owes its orisrin to 
 the zeal and energy of'the late Mrs. Joanna 
 Bethune. It was founded in 1806, and at 
 first it was attempted to place the children 
 in families, but their number soon rendered 
 this difficult, and after renting premises for 
 a time they erected an asylum in Bank street, 
 and in 1840 removed to their new edifice on 
 the banks of the Hudson, between Seventy- 
 third and Seventy-fourth streets. It is large- 
 ly endowed. 
 
 Subsequently other institutions for orphans 
 have been established in that city, some of 
 them amply endowed either by legacies, or by 
 the increased value of the property on which 
 they were originally erected, while othcre 
 are dependent, in part, on annual contribu- 
 tions, or on grants from the city treasury or 
 Board of Education. There are now ten of 
 these institutions in New York city aiid four 
 in the adjacent city of Brooklyn, aside from 
 the Home for the Friendless and other pre- 
 ventive and reformatory institutions, a large 
 part of whose inmates are orphans ; and 
 aside, also, from the Randall's Island Nurs- 
 ery, where the last year about 1200 children 
 — orphans, half orjjhans, or children of in- 
 temperate and criminal parents — were cared 
 for. In all these institutions in the city of 
 New York not less than 4000 children are 
 domiciled. 
 
 There arc now asylums for orphans in 
 nearly every town of 10,000 inhabitants in 
 the country, and in the larger cities there are 
 usually several. Thus there are nine or ten 
 in Philadelphia, three in Baltimore, and five 
 in Boston. One of the most remarkable of 
 
446 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 these, both on account of the magTiificence 
 of its edifice and the lai-geness of its endow- 
 ment, is the Girard College for orphans at 
 Philadelphia. It was founded by the be- 
 quest of a tract of land and two millions of 
 dollars by Stephen Girard, a weaUhy banker 
 of that city. Mr. Girard left minute direc- 
 tions in his will in regard to the building 
 and management of the charity. It is lo- 
 cated on a lot comjirising fortj'-one acres of 
 land, surrounded by a wall ten feet in height. 
 The grounds are laid out as play-grounds, 
 gardens, grass-plots, etc. The buildings are 
 all of marble. The principal one is in the 
 form of a Corinthian temple, 169 feet long, 
 111 wide, and 97 high, and has a portico of 
 thirty-four marble columns each 55 feet high. 
 One of tlie smaller buildings is used as a 
 laboratory, bakery, etc. The other four are 
 each 125 feet long, 52 feet wide, and two 
 stories in height. The whole cost of the 
 buildings was 81,930,000. The officers are 
 a president, secretary, two professoi's, five 
 male and twelve female teachers, a physician, 
 matron, assistant mati'on, and steward. The 
 college was opened in January, 1S48. As 
 many poor white male or|)hans as the cn- 
 dijwmont can support arc admitted, between 
 the ages of six and ton years, fed, clothed, 
 and educated, and between the ages of f nir- 
 teen and eighteen bound out to mechanical, 
 agricultural, or commercial occupations. No 
 ecclesiastic, missionary, or minister of any 
 sect whatever, is to hold any connection 
 with the college or be admitted to the prem- 
 ises even as a visitor. The number of pupils 
 on the foundation is a little over 350, and 
 the annual expenditure about $60,000. 
 
 This is but one of several munificent 
 foundations for orphans in that city. The 
 Burd Crphan Asylum recently founded there 
 for orphans between four and eight years of 
 age, and primarily those of Episcopal parent- 
 age, has an endowment of about half a mill- 
 ion dollars. 
 
 At Zelienople, Butler county, in western 
 Pennsyhania, a farm school for orphans from 
 Lutheran families, was established in 1854, 
 and is under the charge of a stiperintend- 
 ent trained to his work in the Institute of 
 Brothers connected with the Rough House, 
 Dr. Wichem's reformatory at Horn, near 
 Ilamburg. This is, so far as we .are a\vare, 
 the first distinct ettbrt in this country to 
 train orphan children distinctively to agri- 
 cultural or horticultural pursuits. 
 
 The ordinary course of instruction in most 
 
 of these institutions embraces the common 
 branches of English education, and in many 
 of them some mechanical pursuit is taught 
 and practised for four or five hours each day. 
 There is reason to believe that, in many 
 cases, the mode of life and the regularity and 
 formality of the course of training, has too 
 much tendency to render the children autom- 
 ata, and unfit them to some extent fi>r the 
 hardships, the frequent changes, and the 
 sudden temptations to which they are ex- 
 posed after leaving the institutions. Where 
 they are placed in private families while yet 
 quite young, this evil is not so likely to follow 
 as where they are retained, as they are in 
 some asylums, to the age of sixteen. 
 
 No estimate, either of the amount perma- 
 nently invested or of the annual current ex- 
 penses of these institutions in this country, 
 can be given, nor even any near approxima- 
 tion to an estimate. The permanent invest- 
 ment is to be reckoned by millions, and 
 possibly by tens of millions ; the annual 
 expenditure in New York city alone, reaches 
 nearly or (piite half a million of dollars. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 PRETENTITE AND REFORMATORY INSTI- 
 TUTIONS. 
 
 Although there are occasional. indications 
 that individual philanthropists, like the b«- 
 nevolent Cardinal C)descalchi at Rome, and 
 Sir Matthew Ilale in England, had clear per- 
 ceptions of the evil of leaving vagrant and 
 morally endangered children as well as ju- 
 venile delinquents, exposed to the tempta- 
 tions to a vicious life, yet apart from a school 
 established partially for them by the foi'raer 
 in 1586, there seems to have been no serious 
 movement in their behalf pi'ior to the estab- 
 lishment of the school and home for vagrant 
 and vicious boj-s at Rome, by Giovanni 
 Boi-gi, (better known as Tata Giovanni, or 
 Papa John,) in 1786 or 1787, and the organ- 
 ization of the " Philanthropic Society for the 
 Prevention of Crime" at London in 1788. 
 This last, originally established on the fami- 
 ly plan, soon became a large establishment, 
 in which a great number of bo3'8 were con- 
 gregated and employed in different branches 
 of manufacture, having also a probationary 
 school of reform for the more vicious and 
 criminal of its inmates. In 1846, the loca- 
 tion was changed and the whole system 
 
PREVENTIVE AND REFORMATORY INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 447 
 
 modified. A laige fann was purchased at 
 Red Hill, near Keigate, Suire}', agriculture 
 and horticulture substituted for mechanical 
 and manufacturing pursuits, and the family 
 system for the congregated. Since that pe- 
 riod tlic number of family reformatoi-ies, as 
 they are called, has greatly increased in 
 Great Britain. On the continent the emi- 
 nent success of the agricultural and horticul- 
 tural reformatories of Mettray, Horn, Ruysse- 
 lede, and many others of more recent origin, 
 has attracted general attention. 
 
 In this country the first institution in- 
 tended for the reformation of vicious and 
 criminal children, ■was the "New York House 
 of Refuge for Juvenile Delinquents," incor- 
 porated in 1824 and opened January 1, 1825. 
 Its founders were John Griscom, Isaac Col- 
 lins, James W. Gerard, and Hugh Maxwell, 
 all at the time members of a " Society for 
 the Prevention of Pauperism and Crime," 
 which had been formed in 1818. These 
 gentlemen were aided and encouraged by 
 others whose names appear on the list of 
 corporators, and who were through life note- 
 worthy fortlieir hearty participation in works 
 of philanthropy. The institution thus found- 
 ed has had a steady growth, as the rapid in- 
 crease of population in the city has been 
 attended by a more than corresponding aug- 
 mentation of the number of juvenile delin- 
 quents. At the end of thirty-six years from 
 its first opening it occupies a tract of be- 
 tween thi;ty and forty acres on the southern 
 end of Randall's Island, in the East River, 
 and its colossal buildings, erected at an ex- 
 pense of not far from ^4.50,000, furnish am- 
 ple aec<unmodations for school-rooms, lodg- 
 ing-rooms, dining-rooms, and workshops for 
 7.50 children, and actually hold in durance 
 nearly 700. 
 
 In 1826 a "House of Reformation," on a 
 similar plan, was establislied in Boston, and, 
 in 1828, a " House of Refuge" in Philadel- 
 phia. iSimilar institutions have since been 
 organized in New Orleans, Rochester, N. Y., 
 Westboro', Mass., Cincinnati, Providence, 
 Pittsburg, West Meriden, Corn., St. Louis, 
 Baltimore, and perhaps some other cities. 
 
 The distinguishing cliaracteiistics of these 
 institutioHs are, that those committed to 
 them have generally been arrested for crime, 
 and have either been sentenced to the House 
 of Refuge, in lieu of a sentence to jail or 
 state prison, or have been sent to these in- 
 stitutions without sentence, iu the hope of 
 their reformation. They are supported, di- 
 
 rectly or indirectly, from the public treasury 
 (the New York house, besides an appropiia- 
 tion of ^40 per head from the state comp- 
 troller, recei\'ed last year $8000 from the 
 city treasury, over $5000 from the Board 
 of Education for its schools, and about 
 $7500 from theatre licenses). In most, or 
 all of them, the children are employed in 
 some branch of manufacture, or some me- 
 chanic art, for from five to eight hours per 
 day, and receive from three to five hours' in- 
 struction in school. In all there is more or 
 less religious and moral instruction imparted, 
 having in view their permanent reformation 
 from evil habits and practices. In all, or 
 nearly all, they are confined at night in cell- 
 like dormit<u-ies, into which thev are secure- 
 ly looked, and their labor, during the day, 
 is under strict supervision, and is generally 
 farmed out to contractors. High walls and 
 a strict police are mainly relied on to pre- 
 vent escape, and the attempt to do so, or 
 any act of insubordination, is usually pun- 
 ished with considerable though not perhaps 
 unmerited se\erity. The managers generally 
 possess and exercise the power of indentur- 
 ing those children who, after a longer or 
 shorter stay, seem to be reformed, even 
 thougli the period of their sentence has not 
 been completed. A considerable number 
 who have been sent to the House of Refuge 
 on comiilaiut of their parents are, after a 
 time, delivered to them on application ; but 
 a large proportion of these do not do well. 
 Of the others, it is believed that from fifty 
 to seventy-five per cent, reform, at least so far 
 as to become quiet and law-abiding citizens. 
 Of those who do not reform, some, after dis- 
 chai'ge at the end of their term, are soon re- 
 committed ; others are sent to sea, and per- 
 haps amid the hardships of a sailor's life 
 become reformed ; others return to the vi- 
 cious associations from which they were orig- 
 inally taken, and after a few months or j'ears 
 of crime, find their place among the inmates 
 of the county or convict prisons, meet a 
 violent death, or fill a drunkard's grave. 
 
 These institutions necessarily combine 
 something of the character of a prison with 
 that of the school, and while their main ob- 
 ject is the reformation rather than the pun- 
 ishment of the young offender, they retain 
 so many penal features tliat they are objects 
 of dread and dislike to many parents and 
 guardians wliose children or wards would be 
 materially benefited by their discipline. 
 
 This feature of their management has led 
 
448 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 to the establishment of another class of re- 
 formatories which, though sometimes assum- 
 ing similar names, are essentially different 
 both in the character of their inmates and 
 in the methods adopted for their reforma- 
 tion. These methods are indeed quite di- 
 verse in the institutions coming under this 
 general head, and are to some extent the 
 reflection of the differing views of those who 
 have charge of them. 
 
 The subjects taken in charge by these re- 
 formatories are somewhat younger on the 
 average than those of the houses of refuge ; 
 they are for the most part only guilty of 
 vagrancy and the vicious habits of a street 
 life, or at the worst, of petty pilferings and 
 thefts ; they have not been, in most in- 
 stances, tried for any crime against the laws, 
 or if they have, their tender age has justified 
 the magistrate in withholding a sentence. 
 
 When admitted to the reformatory, which 
 is usually dune on a magistrate's warrant, 
 they undergo a thorough ablution, and are 
 cli)thod in jilain, neat garments having no 
 distinguishing mark, are well fed, and care- 
 fully taught and watched over, and the ut- 
 most pains are taken to eradicate their evil 
 habits, and to make them feel that their 
 teachers and those who have them in charge 
 are their best friends and seek their good. 
 Their past history is never alluded to, and is 
 generally known only to the superintendent. 
 In these establishments there are no dormi- 
 tory cells, and severe punishment is seMom 
 found necessary. The labor of the pupils is 
 seldom regarded as a matter of mucli im- 
 portance, though in some instances three, 
 four, or five hours a da}' are spent in some 
 hght emj)lo3'ment. From these institutions 
 escapes are unfrequent, and in mcjst cases 
 the childi'en fjrm a strong attachment for 
 their teachers. In some instances they are 
 broken up into groups or families of twenty 
 or thirty persons, each having its " house 
 father" and mother, and its " elder brother," 
 if the pupils are boys, and its matron or 
 " mother," and elder sister or aunt, if they 
 are girls. These officers teach them and per- 
 form the duties indicated by their titles in 
 such a way as to supply, as far as possible, 
 the ])lace of those natural relations of whose 
 judicious influence they are deprived. One 
 of these reformatories is a ship, and the 
 pupils are taught all the dnties required of 
 an able-bodied seaman, and the order and 
 discipline are similar to those of the naval 
 school sliips. The}' are taught, in addition 
 
 to ordinary common-school studies, naviga- 
 tion, and after a few months' instruction are 
 in demand for the mercantile marine, where 
 they not unfreq\iently are ra|iidly promoted. 
 
 In most of these institutions the pupils 
 remain in the reformatory a shorter a\-crage 
 period than those who are inmates of the 
 houses of refnge. In the New York Juve- 
 nile Asylum, one of the most successful of 
 these reformatories, they arc usually inden- 
 tured or discliarged in six or twelve months. 
 In the State Industrial School for Girls at 
 Lancaster, Mass., comparatively few remain 
 over a year. These institutions are usually 
 supported by the large cities, though in a 
 few instances they are state institutions. 
 The labor of the children being of but little 
 account, the expense per head per annum is 
 somewhat greater than in the houses of 
 refnge, but the number of refoi-mations is 
 also greater, and may with considerable cer- 
 tainty be estimated at from seventy-five to 
 eighty -five per cent. Among these institu- 
 tions we may name the " New York Juvenile 
 Asylum," the " State Industrial School for 
 Girls" at Lancaster, Mass., the " Massachu- 
 setts School Ship," the "Asylum and Farm 
 School" at Thompson's Island, Boston, the 
 " State Reform School" at Cape Elizabeth, 
 Maine, the " Ret'irm School" at Chicago, 
 and the " State Reform Farm" at Lancaster, 
 Ohio. In the last, which is the first attempt 
 at the introduction of the family or group 
 system for boys in this country, fruit culture 
 is to be the principal employment of the in- 
 mates, and the term of residence will be 
 longer than at most of the others. 
 
 In our large cities there is still another 
 class of children for whom a preventive edu- 
 cation is necessary ; they are not criminal, 
 they have not generally acquired vicious 
 habits, but they are morallij endangered. 
 They arc often orphans or half orphans, and 
 frequently homeless ; many of them are chil- 
 dren of foreign parents (if the lower classes, 
 and have had no opportunities of education ; 
 some are the oftspring of vicious or intemper- 
 ate parents. The greater part of them obtain 
 a precarious livelihood by begging, sweeping 
 crossings, boot blacking, selling newspapers, 
 statuettes, frnit, or small wares, or oi'gan- 
 grinding. They are all exposed to strong 
 temptations to evil, and have acquired a 
 kind of defiant independence from being 
 diiven so earlv to take care of themselves. 
 
 For these children it has been felt that 
 some provision must be made to prevent 
 
PREVEXTIVE AN'U REFORMATOllY IXSTITUTIONS. 
 
 449 
 
 tliem from falling into vicious and criminal 
 courses, and becoming depredators upon 
 society, and to give tliera the opportunity 
 of becoming good and intelligent citizens. 
 The measures necessary to accomplisli these 
 results have been the subject of much dis- 
 cussion ; and amid the experimenting which 
 has been the result of this discussion, much 
 good and some evil have been done. Indus- 
 trial schools have been established, mainly 
 for girls, in which reading and the elements 
 of geography and arithmetic, vocal music, 
 and the use of the needle in plain work, are 
 tanght ; and the furnishing of one or two 
 meals a day and plain clothing when need- 
 ed, arc made the inducements to attendance. 
 For the newsboys and other young vendors 
 of petty wares, a lodging house has been 
 opened in New York city, and evening in- 
 struction given, the boys paying six cents 
 each for their lodging. On the Sabbath a 
 free dinner is provided for those who will 
 attend and receive religious instructions ; 
 evening schools are also established, where 
 those who are engaged in their little em- 
 ployments during the day, may receive in- 
 tellectual and moral training. 
 
 In the worst quarters of New York and 
 Philadelphia, missions and houses of indus- 
 try have been founded, in which schools are 
 kept thi'ough the week, much after the plan 
 of the industrial schools already described, 
 and where homeless forsaken children, and 
 those whose parents are vicious and degrad- 
 ed, are clothed, boarded, instructed, and 
 made to know the comforts of a home. It 
 is obvious, however, that the greatest kind- 
 ness which can be done to these children is 
 to remove them from the influence of the 
 temptations to which they have been ex- 
 posed, and hence, most of these institutions 
 send their children to homes in the country, 
 after more or less preparatory training, as 
 fiist as good places can be found for them. 
 In many cases, they are adopted by those in 
 whose charge they are placed, and find in 
 their foster parents more tender affection 
 and care than they have ever known before. 
 In other cases, they meet with less sympathy 
 and love, and return to the great city and its 
 temptations again. 
 
 In 1853, a " Children's Aid Society" was 
 organized in New York city, mainly through 
 the efforts of Mr. Charles L. Brace, one of 
 ■whose principal objects is the location of 
 this class of children in good homes at the 
 West and elsewhere. Several of these so- 
 27* 
 
 cieties have since been formed in other large 
 cities. The original society at New York 
 has the oversight of industrial schools, boys' 
 meetings, the newsboys' lodging house, etc., 
 and gathers from all quarters these morally 
 endangered children, and sends them into 
 the country in companies of forty or fifty ; 
 its agents having secured situations for 
 them. About 800 are thus sent out an- 
 nually. 
 
 Still another class of organizations intend- 
 ed for the benefit of these hapless children, 
 though devoting its attention mainly to two 
 classes of them, the very young children, 
 infants and children under ten years, and 
 girls of thirteen years and over, who are 
 homeless and out of employment, are the 
 Homes for the Friendless, of which there 
 are now twelve in the United States. The 
 first of these originated with the American 
 Female Guardian Society, in New York, 
 and was the result of the efforts of the di- 
 rectors of that society to rescue these class- 
 es from ruin. It assumed its present form 
 in 1847, and has had nearly 10,000 in- 
 mates ; 683 were received as members of its 
 schools and workrooms in 1859, and 674 
 were employed in the home workrooms, 
 and furnished with situations ; 640 girls 
 were taught in its industrial schools, and 
 560 f-miilies aided. 
 
 These institutions arc all of them main- 
 tained principally by private contributions, 
 though most of them, in the large cities, re- 
 ceive school moneys, to aid in sustaining 
 their schools, from the city or state, and 
 some of them receive occasional grants from 
 the state or city treasuries. 
 
 It is impossible to ascertain, w-ith any con- 
 siderable certainty, the exact percentage of 
 children from these institutions, who event- 
 ually turn out well. In most of them, the 
 failures are the exceptions, and the number 
 of these is not large. The Home for the 
 Friendless in New York city keeps up a 
 correspondence relative to each child sent 
 out, until their majority, unless they die be- 
 fore that time. This correspondence dem- 
 onstrates that full 90 per cent, grow up 
 virtuous and well behaved. This percent- 
 age is larger than can safely be predicated of 
 the other institutions, inasmuch as the chil- 
 dren are for the most part received into the 
 home at a very earlv age, and have not ac- 
 quired the evil habits of those who are 
 older, before coming under the influence of 
 these charities. In the Children's Aid So- 
 
450 
 
 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 cieties, Houses of Industry, etc., the per- 
 centage reformed is large, but not definitely 
 ascertainable. 
 
 There is still another class of refonnatory 
 institutions not intended for children, but 
 for that unfortunate class of women who, 
 having led lives of unchastity, have become 
 ])enitent for their sins and desire to return 
 to the jiaths of virtue. This department of 
 I'cform has been less actively promoted here 
 than in Europe, and especially in Great Brit- 
 ain, but there are in most of our large cities 
 Magdalen Asylums, or institutions otherwise 
 designated, but intended for this class. New 
 York has one of these asylums, Boston two, 
 and Philadelphia three, one of which, the Ro- 
 sine Asylum, founded in 1847, is a very act- 
 ive and useful organization. 
 
 The number of Houses of Refuge, or in- 
 stitutions of that class, is fourteen. The 
 cost .of their buildings and grounds is about 
 .^2,050,000, and the amnial cost of their 
 iijidntenance not far from $340,000. 
 
 Of the Juvenile Asyhims, &c., there are 
 seven , the cost of buildings and grounds is 
 not far from $450,000, and the annual ex- 
 penses of maintenance about $130,000. 
 
 The number of institutions of the third 
 class cannot be definitely ascertained. Few 
 or none of them are established or entirely 
 maintained by the state or city governments, 
 and some are altogether private enterprises. 
 
 There are fifteen of them in the city of New 
 York alone, and two or three in Brooklyn, 
 five or six in Philadelphia, and a consider- 
 able number in smaller cities and towns. 
 Some of these occupy leased biiildings, oth- 
 ers own their edifices. 
 
 The buildings and grounds of the New 
 York Home for the Friendless cost nearly 
 $60,000, and of the Five Points House of 
 Industry, about $40,000. The annual ex- 
 penses of seven of the more important of 
 the preventive and reformatory institutions 
 in New York city, were about $114,000. It 
 would probably be safe to estimate the total 
 pei-manent investment of all these organi- 
 zations at not less than three millions of 
 dollars, which we are satisfied is below the 
 reality, and the current annual expenditure 
 at not less than $750,000. 
 
 That these institutions have not yet at- 
 tained to their highest degree of efticiency, 
 and that they are not fully adequate to the 
 reformation and preventive education of the 
 \ast number of morally endangered, vagrant, 
 and criminal children of the country, is un- 
 doubtedls' true; but among the evidences of 
 national progress in our country since the 
 commencement of its independent existence, 
 tliere is none which reflects greater credit 
 upon its philanthropy than the establishment 
 and maintenance of so many institutions of 
 reformation and preventive education. 
 
EDUCATIONAL STATISTICS. 
 
 461 
 
 
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452 
 
 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 
 
 STATISTICS OF COLLEGES AND COLLEGIATE DEPAETilENTS IN THE UNITED 
 
 CENT INFOEMATION IN THE POSSESSION OF 
 
 NoTK 1. — Institutions not fuUy reported are to bo understood as not bein.s in recent correspondence 
 
 NoTio 2.— For statistics of the protcssional scliools or departments connected witli any of these instita 
 
 cultural, &.C., in this report. 
 
 Note 3. — In the columns of " Cost of tuition per term," and " Board per month," statistics marked 
 
 Note 4. — In this table the abbreviations in the column of " Denominations " are as follows: R, C, 
 
 copal; Conj., Congregational ; Pres., Presbyterian ; Clir., Christian; U. P., United Presbyterian; C. P., 
 
 tists; Univ.,Universalist; Unit., Unitarian; Mor., Moravian; N. Ch.. New Church; G. K., German 
 
 pal; E. A., Evangelical Associations ; M. P., Methodist Protestant; C. and P., Congregational and Prcs 
 
 ' Note 5. — The existence of those colleges marked with an interrogation point (?) is considered doubt 
 
 Name. 
 
 Location. 
 
 President. 
 
 East Alabama, Male College 
 
 Florence University (?) 
 
 AVesleyan College (?) 
 
 Southern University 
 
 La Gr.ango College (?) 
 
 Howard College 
 
 Spring HiU College 
 
 Talladega College 
 
 University of Alabama. . 
 
 Cane HiUCollege 
 
 St. John's College 
 
 College of St. Augustine. 
 
 St. Vincent's College 
 
 Marvsville College 
 
 Odd 'Follows' College (?) 
 
 University of California 
 
 Petaluma'CoUege 
 
 St. Ignatius College 
 
 St. Mary's College 
 
 Union ('''^llc"'^ 
 
 Univer.'^ity (Jollege 
 
 San Kafae'l College 
 
 Franciscan College 
 
 College of our Lady of Guada- 
 lupe. 
 
 Santa Clara College 
 
 UniviTsitv of the Pacific 
 
 Pacilic JMil lic.dist College 
 
 Sonoma ('ullri^r 
 
 Pacitic Methodist College 
 
 Cahfornia College 
 
 Hesperian College 
 
 Color.ado College (!) 
 
 Trinity College 
 
 "Wesleyan University 
 
 Tale College , 
 
 Br.indywine College 
 
 Delaware College 
 
 University of Georgia. 
 
 Atlanta Univoi'sity 
 
 IJowdon College 
 
 Oglethorpe College . . . , 
 
 fiercer University 
 
 tUirist's College 
 
 I^Iontjielier College 
 
 Emory College , 
 
 ■(!) 
 
 Abingdon College 
 
 Illinois AVesloyan University. 
 
 St. Viatvir's r'ollogo 
 
 rdackliuiii University 
 
 Chicago University 
 
 St. Ignatius ( 'ollege 
 
 St. Aloysius College . 
 
 531 Eureka College 
 
 Auburn, Ala 
 
 Florence, Ala 
 
 , do 
 
 Greensborougb, Ala 
 
 La Grange, AJa 
 
 Marion, Ala 
 
 (Spring Hill,) near Mobile, 
 Ala. 
 
 Talladega, Ala 
 
 Tuscaloosa, Ala 
 
 Cane Hill, Ark 
 
 Little Rock, Ark 
 
 Benicia, Cal 
 
 J. T. Dunklin . 
 
 1830 
 1841 
 1835 
 
 A. S. Andrews, D. D. 
 
 J. F. Mnrfco 
 
 Rev. J. Montillot, S. J . 
 
 Los Angeles, Cal 
 
 Marysvillo, Cal 
 
 Napa City, Cal 
 
 Oakland.'Cal 
 
 Petaluma, Cal 
 
 San Francisco, Cal . 
 
 do 
 
 , do 
 
 do 
 
 San Rafael, Cal , 
 
 Santa Barbara, Cal. 
 do , 
 
 1832 
 1852 
 185' 
 1868 
 
 1867 
 
 N. T. Lnpton, A. M 
 
 Rev. F. R. Earle, A.M.... 
 
 Col. O. C. Gray, A. M 
 
 Rev. W. P. Tucker, A. M . 
 
 Rev. J. McGill, C. M. 
 
 1855 
 1866 
 1855 
 1863 
 
 H. Durant, A. M . 
 
 Rov. J. Bayma, S. J. 
 Brother Justin 
 
 1859 
 1869 
 1868 
 
 Rev. "Wm. Alexander 
 
 Alfred Bates , 
 
 Rev. J. J. O'Keefe, O. S. F. 
 
 Santa Clara, Cal 
 
 do 
 
 Santa Rosa, Cal 
 
 Sonoma. Cal 
 
 Vaeaville, Cal , 
 
 do 
 
 Woodland, Cal 
 
 Golden City, Col. Ter. 
 
 Hartford. Conn 
 
 Middletown, Conn 
 
 1851 
 1851 
 1861 
 1859 
 1851 
 1871 
 1869 
 
 Rev. A. Tarsi, S.J 
 
 Rev. T. H. Sinex, D.D 
 
 A.L.Fitzgerald 
 
 Rev. W. N. (.'unninghara 
 
 Rov. J. R. Thomas, D. D., LL. D. . 
 
 M.Bailev, A. M 
 
 J.M. M.-irtin, A. M 
 
 New Haven, Conn . 
 Brandy wine, Del... 
 
 Newark, Del 
 
 Athens, Ga 
 
 Atlanta, Ga 
 
 Bowdon, Ga 
 
 Atlanta, Ga 
 
 Macon, Ga 
 
 Montpelier, Ga 
 
 Oxford, Ga" !!...'.! 
 
 1823 
 1831 
 
 1701 
 
 Rev. Abner Jackson. D. D., LL.D 
 Rev. Joseph Cummings, D. D., 
 
 LL.D. 
 Rev. Noah Porter, D. D., LL. D. , 
 
 1869 
 1801 
 1867 
 1856 
 1835 
 1838 
 
 "W. H. Purncll, A. M , 
 
 A. A. Lipscomb, D. D 
 
 E. A. AVare, A. M 
 
 Kev. F. H. M. Henderson, A. B. 
 
 Rev. D. Wills, D. D 
 
 Rev. A. J. B.attlo 
 
 Abingdon, 111 
 
 Bloomington, Dl 
 
 Bourbonnais Grove, HI. 
 
 C.arlinville, HI 
 
 Chicago, 111 
 
 do 
 
 East St. Louis, m , 
 
 £ttreka, BJ 
 
 1837 
 
 1853 
 1852 
 1866 
 
 Rev. L. M. Smith, D. D . 
 
 1859 
 1870 
 1868 
 1653 
 
 J. W. Bntler, A. M 
 
 Rev. O. S. Munsell, D. D 
 
 Very Rev. P. Eeandoin 
 
 Ee%-. J. W. Bailey. D. D 
 
 Rev. J. C. Burroughs, D. D, LL.D 
 
 Rev. A. Damen 
 
 Rev. F. H Zabel, D. D., D. C. L 
 H. W, Everest, A. M 
 
STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 453 
 
 STATES AUTHOEIZED TO COXFEK DEGREES IN AETS, COMPILED FEOM THE MOST EE. 
 THE UNITED STATES BUREAU OF EDUCATION. 
 
 with tho offico. 
 
 tions, rofcroDce is made to the appropriate tables, theological, le^jal, medical, normal, commercial, agri- 
 
 *' n " mean the given amount per annnm ; " 6 " signifies board and tuition per annum. 
 
 Eoman Catholic; Bupt., Baptist; Mas., Masonic; M. E., Methodist Episcopal; P. E., Protestant Epis* 
 
 Cumberlanil riesbvterian ; Liith., Lutheran; Fr., Friends; U. B., United Brethren; F. B., Free Bap- 
 
 Eeformod; Ref., Uelbrmcd, (Dutch;) L. D. S., Latter-Day Saints; A. M. E., African Methodist Episco- 
 
 bvteriau ; M. E. S., Methodist Episcopal, South. 
 
 fiil. 
 
 
 1 
 
 a 
 
 o 
 n 
 
 o 
 o 
 
 5 
 
 a 
 
 o 
 
 i 
 
 Students. 
 
 Cost of— 
 
 .g 
 s 
 
 1 
 
 •3 
 
 
 
 a 
 
 a 
 I 
 
 « 
 
 1 
 
 n 
 P. 
 
 1 
 
 d 
 a 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 s 
 
 o 
 
 P4 
 
 i 
 
 5 
 
 a 
 
 1^ 
 o 
 
 '3 
 
 ! 
 li 
 
 o o 
 
 s 
 
 u 
 
 « 
 
 o 
 
 
 a 
 
 o 
 H 
 
 s, 
 
 a 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 Time of commencement. 
 
 I 
 
 M. E. S. 
 
 7 
 
 15 
 
 ... 
 
 
 28 
 
 55 
 
 
 98 
 
 
 98 
 
 O$70 
 
 $18 
 
 
 Last 'Wednesday in June. 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 M.E... 
 
 S 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ... 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ,■) 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 (i 
 
 It::: 
 
 5 
 
 18 
 
 8 
 11 
 3 
 
 G 
 
 7 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 142 
 52 
 
 
 142 
 
 52 
 
 386 
 64 
 
 104 
 07 
 90 
 
 50 
 
 50 
 6328 
 
 
 2,500 
 8,000 
 
 Last Thursday in Juno. 
 4th Tuesday in August. 
 
 7 
 
 40 
 
 6 
 
 6 
 
 
 
 
 
 8 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 64 
 104 
 67 
 90 
 
 50 
 
 
 050 
 
 a50 
 
 050 
 
 20-50 
 
 O250 
 
 oiso 
 
 13 
 
 18 
 25 
 
 25 
 
 3,000 
 
 'i,'i66 
 
 1,000 
 
 Last TVednesday in Jane. 
 
 in 
 
 
 77 
 
 
 
 
 
 27 
 
 n 
 
 Ma.s ... 
 P.E ... 
 
 E.C ... 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 12 
 11 
 
 49 
 
 10 
 
 14 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 .... 
 
 Thursdayafter 1st Wednes- 
 day of June. 
 August 16. 
 
 U 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ITi 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 IG 
 
 n 
 
 Stato .. 
 
 18 
 
 174 
 
 32 
 
 13 
 
 2 
 
 5 
 
 26 
 
 247 
 
 
 252 
 
 Free . . . 
 
 0200-320 
 
 
 3d "Wednesday in July. 
 
 if= 
 
 R.a... 
 
 E.C ... 
 
 19 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 559 
 
 ... 
 
 559 
 
 36 
 
 
 
 June 5. 
 
 10 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 "O 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 "1 
 
 
 7 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 O.T 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 "1 
 
 EC ... 
 
 6 
 
 30 
 
 
 
 30 
 
 30 
 
 2 
 
 92 
 
 
 92 
 
 0150 
 
 
 8,000 
 
 March 2. 
 
 ?4 
 
 
 
 TO 
 
 EC ... 
 M.E... 
 M.E... 
 
 17 
 G 
 6 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 225 
 55 
 
 78 
 
 
 nnn 
 
 1350 
 a30-C0 
 030-70 
 
 '""20^25 
 20 
 
 12, 000 
 
 2,000 
 
 500 
 
 1st Tuesday in Juno. 
 May 30. 
 Middle of May. 
 
 2G 
 2T 
 
 "8 
 
 86 
 115 
 
 2 
 
 20 
 
 2 
 10 
 
 2 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 20 
 
 coiis 
 
 72|150 
 
 2D 
 
 M.E... 
 B.ipt... 
 Chr.... 
 
 7 
 4 
 7 
 
 66 
 32 
 
 87 
 
 23 
 8 
 11 
 
 6 
 
 8 
 2 
 14 
 
 6 
 
 96 
 
 119 
 25 
 
 82 
 
 88 
 17 
 71 
 
 11 
 
 153 
 
 O30-80 
 
 25-40 
 
 15i-34J 
 
 20 
 20 
 
 300 
 
 150 
 
 May 18. 
 
 3d Wednesday in May 
 
 2d Friday in May. 
 
 31 
 
 i 
 
 37 
 
 33 
 34 
 
 35 
 
 in 
 
 P.E... 
 M.E... 
 
 Cong . . 
 
 16 
 10 
 
 2o 
 
 ... 
 
 49 
 49 
 
 130 
 
 42 
 42 
 
 134 
 
 42 
 
 42 
 
 135 
 
 30 
 30 
 
 128 
 
 
 163 
 163 
 
 527 
 
 
 103 
 163 
 
 527 
 
 oOO 
 033 
 
 30 
 
 IS 
 
 18 
 
 22 
 
 15, 000 
 
 20, 000 
 
 90,000 
 
 2d Thursday in July. 
 3d Thursday in July. 
 
 Last Thurs. but two in July. 
 
 37 
 
 State.. 
 State .. 
 
 G 
 12 
 7 
 5 
 6 
 5 
 
 44 
 
 28 
 14 
 
 
 
 
 
 72 
 231 
 111 
 102 
 150 
 
 82 
 
 
 72 
 231 
 170 
 102 
 150 
 
 62 
 
 060 
 6300 
 
 16 
 
 "26,' 666 
 
 1st Wednesday in July. 
 Ist Wednesday in August. 
 
 3S 
 
 59 
 
 
 33 
 
 125 
 
 11 
 
 
 40 
 
 
 51 
 
 75 
 
 25 
 
 12 
 
 8 
 
 G 
 
 75 
 
 054 
 
 75 
 
 olOO 
 
 ol50 
 
 18-25 
 
 18 
 
 '5,' 666 
 5,000 
 
 1st Wednesday in July. 
 1st Wednesday in .Jidy. 
 2d Wednesday in July. 
 
 41 
 
 Pres... 
 Bapt... 
 
 4-2 
 41 
 
 14 
 
 24 
 
 24 
 
 20 
 
 4o 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 M. E. S. 
 Chr ... 
 
 7 
 
 34 
 
 28 
 
 47 
 
 41 
 
 23 
 
 13 
 
 186 
 
 
 186 
 
 35 
 
 18 
 
 7,000 
 
 Wednesday aft /i 3d Mon 
 day in July. 
 
 M.E... 
 E.C... 
 
 6 
 9 
 8 
 14 
 G 
 4 
 
 132 
 
 G 
 
 4 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 56 
 
 200 
 
 
 200 
 
 o33 
 6207 
 6150 
 O50 
 aCO 
 a40 
 
 19 
 
 1,500 
 
 June 20. 
 
 40 
 
 Pros . . . 
 Bapt . . . 
 E.C.... 
 E.C.... 
 Chr.... 
 
 28 
 186 
 64 
 
 C 
 26 
 43 
 
 5 
 16 
 
 2 
 15 
 
 2 
 10 
 
 231 
 84 
 
 181 
 277 
 107 
 50 
 lOU 
 
 3.^ 
 
 107 
 50 
 135 
 
 
 
 
 50 
 51 
 
 10 
 
 4,000 
 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 
 5-? 
 
 
 
 
 
 16 
 
 300 
 
 1st Monday in September. 
 1st Wednesday in June. J 
 
 Kl 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
454 E£PORT OP THE COMMISSIONER OP EDUCATION. 
 
 STATISTICS OF COLLEGES AITO COLLEGIATB 
 
 Ifame. 
 
 54 
 55 
 5G 
 57 
 58 
 59 
 60 
 61 
 62 
 63 
 64 
 65 
 66 
 67 
 6« 
 69 
 70 
 71 
 72 
 73 
 
 Location. 
 
 Northwestern University. .. 
 
 Lombard University 
 
 Knox College 
 
 Marsbiill College W 
 
 Illinois College 
 
 McKeiulree College 
 
 Liuciiln X'liivrisity 
 
 Meudutacai.-.i (!) 
 
 MouiiKiuth Ci'llcge 
 
 Northwestern College 
 
 Aviguytau.i College 
 
 Quincy College 
 
 Jubil.V Cull. -.■ 
 
 St. I'atri.ksC.. liege (1) 
 
 Sburtl.tl r,ill,-,> 
 
 Westli.ld C.ill.-u'« 
 
 Wbiatiiii(.'oll.^<. 
 
 Ulinoi.'* ludustiial University 
 
 Unuliard c :ollego (?) 
 
 Indiana University 
 
 BrooUviUe Cfilloge 
 
 Walwsl, (■oUru,. 
 
 Franklin Colli-gi' 
 
 Fort Wayne College 
 
 Concordia College 
 
 Indiana Asbury University. . . 
 
 HanuverC.llrKo 
 
 llaitsviUe University 
 
 Nortbwcsteru Cbristian Uni- 
 versity. 
 
 Union Christian College 
 
 Moore's Hill College 
 
 Salem College 
 
 tjb University of Notre Dame . . . 
 
 87 Earllnuu College 
 
 88 St M.'inrad's Collego 
 
 89 Valparaiso Colb-go 
 
 90 Sniillisoii Cnllogo 
 
 91 Howard C.aiige 
 
 9i i;uilini:toii University 
 
 93 UriswoldCollrge 
 
 94 Norwiuian Lntlier College 
 
 95 Parson s ( 'oll.'go (?) 
 
 96 Fairlield College 
 
 97 Uiijier li iwa University 
 
 98 Iowa College 
 
 99 Siniiison Centenary College 
 
 100 Iowa State T) niversity 
 
 101 Iowa Wesleyan University 
 
 103 Cornell College 
 
 103 ('[ iitnil University of Iowa 
 
 lU) Wliittiir College (!) 
 
 lO.'i llnmboldt College 
 
 100 Tabor College 
 
 107 St. Bonediet's College 
 
 lUR liaker University 
 
 109 Highland University 
 
 110 State University 
 
 1 1 1 Ottawa University 
 
 113 AVasbbnm College 
 
 114 Lane University 
 
 ll.'i Beroa College 
 
 lie Ccciliali Colligo 
 
 117 Cent re ( :(dlege 
 
 118 Kentucky Military Institute . 
 
 Evanston, 111 
 
 Galesburgh, 111 
 
 do 
 
 Henry, HI 
 
 Jaeksouville, 111 ... 
 
 Lebanon, 111 
 
 Lincoln, III 
 
 Meudot.a, 111 
 
 Monmouth, III 
 
 Naiierville, HI 
 
 Paxton, 111 
 
 Quiuev, III 
 
 liobin's Nest, HI . . . 
 
 liuma, 111 
 
 Upper Alton, 111 ... 
 
 Westfleld, 111 
 
 Wheaton, 111 
 
 Urbana, 111 
 
 Bourbon, Ind 
 
 Bloomington, Ind . . 
 
 Brookville, Ind 
 
 Crawl'ordsville, Ind . 
 
 Franklin, Ind 
 
 Fort Wayne, Ind 
 
 do 
 
 Greeneastle, Ind 
 
 Hanover, Ind 
 
 Hartsville, Ind 
 
 Indianapolis, Ind . . . 
 
 President. 
 
 1855 
 
 18: 
 
 1841 
 185. 
 1830 
 
 lax: 
 
 1865 
 
 iesc 
 
 1805 
 18()0 
 1854 
 1847 
 
 E. 0. Haven, D. D., LL. D. 
 Eev. J. P. Weston, D. D . . 
 Kev. J. P. GnUiver, D. D . . 
 
 1833 
 18C1 
 
 Meroni, Ind 
 
 Moore's Hill, Ind 
 
 Bourbon, Ind 
 
 Notre Dame, Ind 
 
 lUcbinond, Ind 
 
 St. Meinrad, Ind 
 
 Valparaiso, Ind 
 
 , Ind 
 
 Koknmo, Ind 
 
 Burlington, Iowa 
 
 Davenjiort, Iowa 
 
 Uecorah, Iowa 
 
 I)es Moines, Iowa 
 
 Fairfield, Iowa 
 
 Fayette, Iowa 
 
 Grinnell, Iowa 
 
 Indianola, Iowa 
 
 Iowa City, Iowa 
 
 Mount rieasaut, Iowa . . . 
 
 Mount Vernon, Iowa 
 
 Pella, Iowa 
 
 Salem, Iowa 
 
 Springvale, Iowa 
 
 T.abor, Iowa 
 
 Atchison, Kana 
 
 Baldwin City, Kans 
 
 Highland, Kans 
 
 Lawrence, Kans 
 
 Ottawa, Kans 
 
 Topeka, Kans 
 
 Leeomptou, Kans 
 
 Berea, Kv 
 
 Cecilian I'ost Office, Ky. 
 
 Danville, Ky 
 
 Near Frauk'lort, Ky 
 
 1828 
 
 1851 
 1834 
 1843 
 1846 
 1850 
 1837 
 1833 
 IS.'iO 
 1855 
 
 1859 
 1853 
 1370 
 1843 
 1860 
 1860 
 
 P.e V. J. M. Sturtcvant, D. D 
 
 Eev. K. AUvn, D. D 
 
 J. C. Bowdo'n, D. D 
 
 Eev. J. W. Corbet, A. M 
 
 D. A. 'W allace, D. D., LL. D 
 
 Itev. A. A. Smith, A. M 
 
 Eev. T. N. Hasselquist 
 
 G. W. Gray, A. M 
 
 Et. Eev. U' J. WMtehouao, D. D, 
 
 J. Eulkley, D. D 
 
 Eev. S. B'. Allen, A. M .... 
 Eev. J. Bl.anchard, A. M. 
 J. M. Gregory, LL. D 
 
 1854 
 1859 
 1861 
 
 1858 
 
 isG' 
 
 ISGO 
 
 1851 
 
 185 
 
 1854 
 
 186' 
 
 185)9 
 1858 
 1859 
 1864 
 
 1805 
 1865 
 1858 
 1860 
 1823 
 1846 
 
 Eev. C. Nutt, D. D 
 
 Eev. J. P. D. John, A.M.. 
 
 Eev. J. F. Tuttle, D. D 
 
 H. L. Wayland, D. D 
 
 Eev. L. Beers, A. B 
 
 Eev. W. Sibler, Ph. D 
 
 Eev. T. Bowman, D. D 
 
 Eev. G. C. Heekman, D.D . 
 
 J. 'W. Scribner, A. M 
 
 ■W.F.Elaek, A. M 
 
 Eev. T. Holmes, D.D... 
 Eev. .1. U. Martin, A. M . 
 
 O. W. Miller, A. il 
 
 Very Eev. AV. Corby 
 
 J. iioore, A. M 
 
 Eev. J. Uobie, 0. S. B... 
 
 Eev. T. B. Wood 
 
 Eev. P. E. Kendall 
 
 J.Henderson 
 
 Eev. E. Lounebery, A. M . 
 Prof. L. Larsen 
 
 Eev. A. Axlino, A. M 
 
 B. W. McLaiu, A. M 
 
 Eev. G. F. Magoun, D. D . 
 
 Eev. A. Burns, D. D 
 
 Eev. G. Tbacber, D. D . . . . 
 
 John Wheeler, D. D 
 
 Eev. W.F.King, D.D .... 
 
 Eev. L. A. Dunn 
 
 .T. H. Pickering 
 
 Eev.S.H.Taft 
 
 Eev. W. M. Brooks, A. M. 
 Very Eev. G. Cbristoph . . 
 Eev. J. A. Simpson, A.M. 
 
 Eev. J. A. McAfee 
 
 John Eraser, A. M 
 
 Eev.P.McVie.ar, D.D 
 
 N.B.Bartlett 
 
 Eev. E. U. Fairchild 
 
 H. A.Cecil 
 
 O. Beatty, LL. D 
 
 CoL E. T. P. Allen, A. M., C. E . 
 
STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 DEPAETinjNTS IN THE TTXITED STATES, <tc.— Continued. 
 
 45.5 
 
 
 d 
 .2 
 
 d 
 
 a 
 
 a 
 
 o 
 
 g 
 p 
 
 s 
 
 o 
 m 
 
 •S 
 
 <•- 
 
 O 
 u 
 
 •2 
 
 30 
 9 
 15 
 
 Students. 
 
 Cost of - 
 
 0} 
 
 a 
 
 3 
 > 
 
 i 
 
 
 Si 
 
 a 
 
 oT 
 
 >i 
 
 o 
 
 rt 
 
 a 
 p, 
 
 185 
 107 
 127 
 
 d 
 
 a 
 .a 
 
 1 
 
 40 
 
 18 
 26 
 
 u 
 
 i 
 1 
 
 2** 
 IC 
 9 
 
 _3 
 
 i 
 
 a 
 
 9, 
 
 6 
 
 u 
 Pi 
 
 O 
 
 .a « 
 
 u 
 
 1 
 
 o 
 
 t 
 rt 
 
 to 
 
 rt 
 
 a 
 
 1 
 
 u 
 
 a 
 -2 
 
 a 
 
 
 a 
 p< 
 
 Time of commencement 
 
 54 
 55 
 5G 
 
 M. E... 
 Univ... 
 Cong... 
 
 20 
 4 
 13 
 
 15 
 11 
 13 
 
 20 
 
 "78 
 
 289 
 l,->6 
 156 
 
 18307 
 ...156 
 110 206 
 
 $7 
 33 
 
 030 
 
 $20 
 
 18 
 18 
 
 27, 000 
 3,500 
 0,200 
 
 4 th Tuesday in June. 
 3d Wfdne8d.ay in June. 
 4th Thursday in Juno. 
 
 *!« 
 
 Cons;... 
 M. K... 
 C.P ... 
 Luth 
 
 12 
 7 
 6 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ip.\ 
 
 ... 324 
 43 261 
 
 60j206 
 
 
 
 
 
 59 
 
 CO 
 
 39 
 
 98 
 
 14 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 8 
 
 10 
 
 18 
 
 6 
 11 
 
 178 
 50 
 
 218 
 140 
 
 8 
 a2G-40 
 
 18 
 lC-18 
 
 8,500 
 
 3d Thursday in June. 
 2d Thursday in June. 
 
 02 
 63 
 
 U.P... 
 E.A .. 
 Lnth .. 
 M. E... 
 
 13 
 10 
 3 
 
 147 
 21 
 31 
 
 19 
 10 
 7 
 
 13 
 
 C 
 
 5 
 
 ~8 
 
 18 
 4 
 
 117 
 
 195 
 
 218 
 1C4 
 
 58 
 
 123 
 60 
 
 341 
 244 
 58 
 
 (l30 
 6-8 
 
 17 
 12-16 
 
 1,500 
 
 COO 
 
 7,000 
 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 Last "Wednesday in June. 
 
 fi'i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 «r 
 
 P. E 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 67 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 (iR 
 
 Bant 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 GO 
 
 7n 
 
 TJ.S .. 
 
 Con"- 
 
 7 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 160 
 
 128 
 
 41 
 
 169 
 
 o24 
 
 14 
 
 
 2d "Wednesday in June. 
 
 71 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 79 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 73 
 74 
 
 State .. 
 
 M.E... 
 Pros . . . 
 Bapt... 
 
 13 
 
 6 
 
 ID 
 
 50 
 
 46 
 
 26 
 
 27 
 
 23 
 
 136 
 
 277 
 
 80 
 226 
 
 31 
 70 
 
 308 
 
 150 
 220 
 
 Free . . . 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 16 
 
 IG 
 14 
 
 5,000 
 
 2,000 
 12, 000 
 
 Thursday preceding 4th of 
 
 July. 
 June '7. 
 
 75 
 7fi 
 
 138 
 
 33 
 
 27 
 
 10 
 
 18 
 
 
 3d Thursday in June. 
 
 77 
 78 
 7il 
 80 
 81 
 82 
 
 83 
 
 84 
 
 ileth .. 
 Luth .. 
 M.E... 
 Pros . . . 
 TT.B... 
 Chr ... 
 
 Cbr ... 
 Meth.. 
 Bapt... 
 E.C ... 
 
 Pr 
 
 R.C ... 
 
 7 
 
 '5 
 
 7 
 7 
 22 
 
 5 
 C 
 9 
 
 Ol) 
 
 29 
 CO 
 77 
 47 
 17 
 113 
 
 16 
 
 84 
 41 
 
 C8 
 23 
 
 13 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 
 15 
 
 39 
 
 9 
 
 1 
 
 5 
 
 2 
 
 6 
 10 
 
 32 
 16 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 13 
 33 
 
 2 
 9 
 
 34 
 
 '"84 
 
 53 
 
 201 
 
 15C 
 
 129 
 
 105 
 
 148 
 298 
 157 
 149 
 219 
 
 100 
 195 
 
 56 
 
 35 
 
 '74 
 80 
 
 51 
 115 
 
 161 
 
 143 
 333 
 
 ir.7 
 
 223 
 
 209 
 
 1.51 
 310 
 
 4-15 
 
 o24 
 
 10 
 
 Free . . . 
 
 18 
 14 
 
 6-10 
 
 15 
 
 a60 
 
 14-20 
 
 al44 
 
 072-117 
 
 18 
 
 16 
 
 "3,000 
 10, 000 
 G,400 
 
 300 
 
 Juno 21. 
 
 Septenlber 1. 
 
 June' 21. 
 
 4th Thursd.ay in .Tuno. 
 
 2d Tuesday in June. 
 
 Juno 24. 
 
 2d "Wednesday in Juno. 
 
 8i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 7-15 
 
 iiiriO 
 
 MOO 
 
 15 
 
 14 
 
 'ii,'6oo 
 
 3,300 
 4,000 
 
 
 8(i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 421 
 131 
 56 
 
 77 
 
 421 
 
 208 
 
 50 
 
 Last "Wednesday in June. 
 Juno 26. 
 
 87 
 
 S 
 
 n-i 
 
 7 
 7 
 
 10 
 
 8 
 
 4 
 15 
 
 1 
 
 7 
 
 51 
 
 
 88 
 80 
 
 7 
 
 19 
 
 15 
 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 
 >m 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 , 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 11 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 0" 
 
 Bant . . . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 93 
 94 
 
 95 
 
 P.fe ... 
 Luth... 
 
 7 
 C 
 
 103 
 
 86 
 
 4 
 
 28 
 
 3 
 12 
 
 5 
 5 
 
 2 
 5 
 
 
 117 
 136 
 
 
 117 
 136 
 
 16 
 
 Free... 
 
 14 
 
 7 
 
 4,000 
 1,000 
 
 3d "Wednesday in June. 
 About June 15. 
 
 16 
 
 Luth... 
 M.E... 
 Cong... 
 M.E... 
 State... 
 M.E... 
 M.E... 
 Bapt. . . 
 Fr 
 
 2 
 10 
 12 
 13 
 30 
 16 
 9 
 7 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 53 
 
 86 
 174 
 
 80 
 229 
 159 
 233 
 
 63 
 
 84 
 108 
 
 ll^ 
 100 
 111 
 
 118 
 170 
 232 
 159 
 345 
 268 
 304 
 
 
 
 
 
 fl- 
 
 141 
 
 48 
 122 
 136 
 118 
 102 
 
 17 
 13 
 
 4 
 52 
 15 
 31 
 
 7 
 13 
 
 3 
 42 
 14 
 
 6 
 
 5 
 G 
 
 28 
 G 
 C 
 
 
 
 9 
 
 20 
 
 9 
 
 5 
 
 Free . . . 
 
 7 
 
 13 
 
 8-lG 
 10-16 
 12-20 
 12-16 
 12-16 
 
 4,000 
 7, Olio 
 200 
 5,000 
 1, 500 
 4, 000 
 
 4th Tuesday in June. 
 2d Arodnesday in July. 
 2d "Wednesday in Juno. 
 Last AVeduesday in June, 
 3d Wednesday in June. 
 3d Tuesday in June. 
 
 og 
 
 99 
 100 
 ini 
 102 
 
 im 
 
 9 
 o 
 
 9 
 11 
 
 5 
 
 193 
 26 
 78 
 104 
 214 
 
 104 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 105 
 
 Unit . . . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 101) 
 10" 
 
 Con"... 
 !:.C ... 
 M.E... 
 
 G 
 
 8 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 4 
 
 2 
 
 
 176 
 
 114 
 51 
 
 85 
 
 199 
 51 
 
 7 
 6200 
 
 16 
 
 2,500 
 1,200 
 
 2d "Wednesday in June. 
 
 lOR 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 109 
 110 
 
 Pres... 
 State .. 
 Bapt . . . 
 
 6 
 9 
 
 77 
 
 10 
 
 G 
 
 
 3 
 
 
 55 
 97 
 
 45 
 116 
 
 100 
 213 
 
 7-12 
 
 3-4 
 
 4,000 
 
 June 20. 
 
 111 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 113 
 114 
 
 Con;;. .. 
 U.B... 
 
 iiVc"." 
 
 Pros... 
 State... 
 
 8 
 3 
 12 
 9 
 
 25 
 
 6 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 35 
 
 53 
 
 15 
 
 68 
 
 no 
 
 O30 
 
 O30 
 
 3 
 
 6200 
 o40 
 
 alOO 
 
 16-80 
 
 2,000 
 
 3d "Wednesday in Juno. 
 
 115 
 
 22 
 
 9 
 
 5 
 
 
 
 259 iRRi07 
 
 .10^ 
 
 7-10 
 
 600 
 
 2d "Wednesday in July. 
 2d Friday in June. 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 Ist Monday in September, 
 
 Ilfi 
 
 
 
 
 162 
 165 
 112 
 
 
 162 
 165 
 112 
 
 117 
 118 
 
 7 
 7 
 
 95 
 15 
 
 17 
 43 
 
 20 
 34 
 
 8 
 11 
 
 7 
 9 
 
 18 
 
 16-20 
 O250 
 
 5,500 
 
 41 C E 
 
450 KEPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OP EDUCATION. 
 
 STATISTICS OF COLLEGES AND COLLEGIATE 
 
 ^^ame. 
 
 Location. 
 
 President 
 
 110 
 120 
 121 
 
 122 
 
 1S3| 
 
 124' 
 
 125! 
 
 126 
 
 1' 
 
 128 
 
 120 
 
 130 
 131 
 132 
 133 
 134 
 
 13; 
 
 136 
 137 
 138 
 139 
 140 
 141 
 142 
 143 
 144 
 14;. 
 14: 
 
 14; 
 
 148 
 
 149 
 150 
 151 
 152 
 153 
 154 
 155 
 15C 
 15 
 158 
 159 
 160 
 
 161 
 162 
 1G3 
 104 
 103 
 160 
 107 
 109 
 1C9 
 170 
 171 
 172 
 173 
 174 
 175 
 170 
 177 
 178 
 179 
 laO 
 181 
 182 
 183 
 18+ 
 185 
 
 Georjrctown CoUoge 
 
 Kelituckv University 
 
 St. M.arv's College 
 
 I'.itlii 1 I'lilloffe 
 
 Thniiip.snn University 
 
 Loni.si;ui.i State University. . . 
 
 Baton Kinicre College 
 
 St. Cliarl.s ('., liege 
 
 Centenary College 
 
 Mount Lebanon University 
 
 College of tlie ImmaculatoCon- 
 ceptiou. 
 
 Lehiinl University , 
 
 Strai;;lit University 
 
 ,Ii flVr.s, ,11 College 
 
 Jjowdoiu College 
 
 Bates ('ollege 
 
 Colby University 
 
 St. John's College 
 
 Loyola College 
 
 Washington Ccpllege 
 
 Kock Hill College 
 
 St. Cli;irlesColl,-ge 
 
 Monnt St. ilary'.s College 
 
 Mount St. Clement's College ,. 
 
 Calv.Tt College 
 
 Borronieo College 
 
 Frederick College 
 
 Western Maryland College 
 
 Amher.'^t College 
 
 Bo.ston <'rdlege 
 
 I larvnrd College 
 
 Tufts College 
 
 Williams College 
 
 College of the Holy Cross 
 
 Adrian College 
 
 Albion CuUege 
 
 M iebiL'an University 
 
 St. rliilip's College 
 
 Hillsdale College 
 
 Hope College 
 
 K.alamazoo College 
 
 Olivet College 
 
 St. John's College 
 
 Carleton College 
 
 University of Minnesota. 
 Siinple-Broaddns College . 
 
 Mississippi College 
 
 Khaw Ifniversity 
 
 Alcorn T^niversity 
 
 Oakland College.'. 
 
 University ot Mississippi- 
 Pass ( 'liristian College 
 
 Madi.s.iii Colleg,. 
 
 Tongaloo I'iii\'ersity 
 
 Jefferson CoHcl'o 
 
 St, Vine.nt's College 
 
 University of Missouri . . . 
 
 Central College 
 
 "W"estiuinster College 
 
 Lewis College _ 
 
 Jefferson City College. . .. 
 William Jewell College. . . 
 
 Palm\'ra Co' ege 
 
 St. Cliarles College 
 
 Grand Kiver College 
 
 Woodland College 
 
 Lincoln College 
 
 Georgetown. Ky 
 
 Lexington. Ky' 
 
 Marion County, Ky 
 
 lUissellville, liy 
 
 Baldwin, La 
 
 Baton Rouge, La 
 
 do 
 
 Grand Coteau, La 
 
 Jackson, La 
 
 Mount Lebanon, La 
 
 New Orleans, La 
 
 do 
 
 , do 
 
 St. Michael, La 
 
 Brunswick, Me 
 
 Lewiston. Me 
 
 .WaterviUe, Me 
 
 Annapolis, Md 
 
 Baltimore, Aid 
 
 Chestertown, Md 
 
 Ellicott City, Md 
 
 do...-:. 
 
 Emmittsburgb, Md... 
 
 Ilchester, Md 
 
 New Windsor, Md. .. 
 
 Pikesville, Md 
 
 Frederick City, Md. . . 
 Westminster, Md . . . . 
 
 Amherst. Mass 
 
 Boston, Mass 
 
 Cambridge, Mass 
 
 College Hill. Mass . . . 
 Williamstown, Mass . 
 
 Worcester. Mass 
 
 Adrian, Mich 
 
 Albion, Mich 
 
 Ann Arbor, Mich 
 
 Detroit, Mich 
 
 Hillsdale, Mich 
 
 Holland, Mich 
 
 K.alama7.oo, Mich 
 
 Olivet, Mich 
 
 Clinton, Minn 
 
 Northiield, Minn 
 
 St. Anthony, Minn . . . 
 
 Centre Hill. Miss 
 
 Clinton, Miss , 
 
 Holly Springs, Miss. . 
 
 Jaclison. Miss 
 
 Oakland. Miss 
 
 Oxford. Miss 
 
 Pass Christian, Misa. 
 
 Sharon, Miss 
 
 Near Tongaloo, Miss . 
 Washington. Miss ... 
 Cape Girardeau, Mo. . . 
 
 Columbia. Mo 
 
 Favette, Slo 
 
 Furton, Mo 
 
 Glasgow, Mo 
 
 Jefferson (^ity, Mo 
 
 Liberty, Slo .' 
 
 Palmvra, Mo 
 
 St. Charles, Mo 
 
 Edinburgh, Mo 
 
 Independence, Mo 
 
 Greenwood, Mo 
 
 183S 
 1859 
 1820 
 1650 
 1807 
 1800 
 1838 
 18.'->! 
 184! 
 1853 
 1848 
 
 Basil Manly, jr., D. D 
 
 J. B. Bowman, A. M., regent . 
 Pvcv. L. Eleud. C. E., LL. D.. 
 
 N.K.D.avis, LL. D 
 
 W.S. Wilson 
 
 D.F.Boyd 
 
 1869 
 
 PlOV.J. Eoduit, S.J... 
 W. n. W.atkin.s, D. D. 
 S. C. McCormicklo . . . 
 Ecv. J. Gautrelet 
 
 E. E.S. Taylor, D.D. 
 
 1802 
 1803 
 1820 
 1784 
 1852 
 1782 
 185- 
 1848 
 1830 
 1808 
 1852 
 1800 
 1796 
 186' 
 1821 
 1803 
 1638 
 18.55 
 1793 
 1843 
 1858 
 1860 
 1841 
 
 J. L. Chamberlain, LL. D 
 
 liev. O. B. Cheney, D. D 
 
 J. T.Ch.amplin, 'D. D 
 
 J.M. Garnett, M.A 
 
 liev. S A. Kelly, S.J 
 
 i;. C. Berkelev,' A. M 
 
 Brother EetteUn 
 
 Rev. S. F6rt6, D.D 
 
 Very Rev. J. McCaffrey, D. D. . 
 Eev. F. Van de Eraak, C. S., S. E 
 
 A. H. Baker, A. M 
 
 Eev. E. Q. S. Waldron 
 
 J. S. Bonsall, A. M 
 
 J. T.Ward, D.D 
 
 W. A. Stearns, D. D., LL. D . . .. 
 
 Eev. E. Fulton, .S. J 
 
 C. W. Eliot, LL. D 
 
 A.A.Miner, D.D 
 
 Eev. M. Hopkins, D. D., LL. D. . . 
 
 Eev. A. F. Ciampi 
 
 A. H. Lowrie, A. M 
 
 G. B. .Tocelvn, D. D 
 
 J.B. Angeil, LL. D 
 
 1855 
 1855 
 
 D.M.Graham, D. D 
 
 Philip Phelps, D. D 
 
 Eev. K. Brooks, D. D 
 
 Eev. N. J. Morrison, D. D. 
 
 1860 
 
 1808 
 
 185- 
 
 1851 
 
 1871 
 
 1871 
 
 1830 
 
 1848 
 
 Ir'On 
 
 18.511 
 
 18711 
 
 1813 
 
 1843 
 
 1843 
 
 1854 
 
 1853 
 
 186' 
 
 186' 
 
 1848 
 
 1848 
 
 1850 
 
 18; 
 
 1869 
 
 1869 
 
 Eev. .1. W. Strong, D. D 
 
 W. W. Folwell, M. A 
 
 W. W. Hawkins, A. M 
 
 Eev. W. Hillman, A. M 
 
 Ecv. A. C. McDonald, A. M 
 
 Kev. H. E. Eevels 
 
 W. L. Breckenridgc, D. D 
 
 J. N. Waddell. D. D 
 
 lirotber Isaiah 
 
 l:.v. .1. M. Pilgh, A.M 
 
 K. Tucker, A.lkl 
 
 Prof Hamilton 
 
 Eev. J. Alizeri 
 
 Daniel Eeail, LL. D 
 
 Rev. J. C. Will.s, A.M 
 
 Eev. N. L. Eiee, D. D 
 
 Eev. T. A. Parkei , A. M., M. D. .. 
 
 Eev. W. H. D. Ilatton 
 
 Rev. T. Ranihaut, LL. D., S. T. P 
 
 Rev. J. A. Waiuwright, A. M 
 
 J. J. Potts, A. M 
 
 J. E. Vetrees 
 
 W. A.Bnckner 
 
 G. S. Bryaut .... 
 
STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 457 
 
 DEPAETMENXS Hf THE TJNITED STATES, &C.— Continned. 
 
 
 f 
 
 < 
 ! 
 
 i " 
 
 a j 
 § I 
 
 R i 
 
 Students. 
 
 Cost of— 
 
 t4 
 
 3 
 2 
 
 a 
 
 "3 
 > 
 
 o 
 
 a 
 
 
 1 
 
 5 1 
 
 il 
 
 " >> 
 
 3 S 
 
 i £■ 
 
 § 
 
 a 
 
 .a 
 1 
 43 
 
 1 
 
 o 
 
 2 
 
 o 
 
 '3 
 
 2 
 
 O 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 p. 
 
 o 
 
 .| 
 
 II 
 
 s 
 
 a 
 
 t 
 
 a 
 
 H 
 
 1 
 
 ■3 
 
 H 
 
 .a 
 
 a 
 o 
 
 a 
 
 P4 
 (-1 
 
 Time of commencement. 
 
 
 Bapt... 
 
 State 2 
 
 7 47 
 
 R 
 
 3G 
 
 11 
 
 8 
 
 .... 
 
 145 
 
 216 
 
 58 
 
 
 145 
 
 216 
 58 
 60 
 55 
 
 184 
 
 a$45 
 a3U 
 6200 
 
 $18-20 
 20 
 
 5,500 
 10, 000 
 
 2(1 Thursday in June. 
 2d Tlinrsday in June. 
 1st Tlinrsday in September. 
 
 121 
 Vii 
 123 
 124 
 
 1 It C . . . . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ' Bant 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 69 
 
 
 
 m'e.:;- 
 
 state... 1 
 
 a 55 
 
 8 28 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 30 
 184 
 
 25 
 
 
 
 1,000 
 7,000 
 
 
 10 
 
 e 
 
 5 
 
 5 
 
 128 
 
 alOO 
 
 0200 
 
 Last "Wednesday in June, 
 
 v>r 
 
 R.C....1 
 
 Metli 
 
 T 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 85 
 
 ... 
 
 85 
 
 KOO 
 
 
 
 2d "Wednesday in Augnet 
 
 1"" 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 l*'fl 
 
 Bapt 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 loq 
 
 K. C 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 nn 
 
 Bapt 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 131 
 
 
 n 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1054 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 133 
 134 
 
 135 
 13G 
 137 
 
 Cong ..2 
 
 r. B... 
 
 Bapt... 
 State .. 1 
 I!.C....l 
 State .. 
 K.C....2 
 u.r, 1 
 
 6... 
 J ... 
 
 0| 7C 
 31.38 
 2 10 
 
 
 60 
 24 
 20 
 24 
 8 
 9 
 
 38 
 23 
 K 
 
 5 
 
 37 
 27 
 11 
 IC 
 
 1 
 
 20 
 14 
 8 
 6 
 3 
 
 .... 
 
 161 
 
 87 
 51 
 138 
 18 
 33 
 lOG 
 100 
 129 
 
 "l 
 
 1 
 
 101 
 
 83 
 52 
 138 
 158 
 33 
 ICG 
 ICO 
 129 
 
 oGO 
 o30 
 10 
 6250 
 a75 
 40-60 
 6260 
 6180 
 6310 
 
 10-16 
 
 a7C-114 
 
 12 
 
 34, 150 
 7,100 
 
 12, 000 
 3,001 
 
 21, 500 
 1,000 
 
 2d Wednesday in .July. 
 Last "Wednesday in J une. 
 Last Thursday in July. 
 Last Wednesday in July. 
 
 138 
 
 16 
 
 2d Wednesday in July. 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 July. 
 
 140 
 
 •i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 4, or.o 
 5,000 
 1,200 
 
 i4il li.r;- -11 
 
 1 92 
 
 18 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 5 
 
 
 Las't Wednesday in Jime. 
 
 ^4.-, 
 
 K.C 
 
 
 143 
 
 R.C.... 
 R.C.... 
 
 R 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 59 
 
 
 59 
 
 6240 
 
 
 Last Tuesday in June. 
 
 144 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 145 
 
 State .. 
 M. P...1 
 Cong... 2 
 E. C .. 1 
 
 . . 7 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 103 
 84 
 261 
 140 
 043 
 74 
 141 
 140 
 99 
 108 
 458 
 
 43 
 
 oi 
 
 09 
 25 
 
 103 
 127 
 201 
 140 
 643 
 74 
 141 
 140 
 ICO 
 177 
 483 
 
 a30 
 
 020-110 
 
 25 
 
 
 1,200 
 2, (00 
 35, COO 
 
 
 146 
 147 
 
 14H 
 
 74 
 
 ... 
 U118 
 6... 
 4 ... 
 
 1 ... 
 3 96 
 ) 80 
 5137 
 3 ... 
 
 30 
 71 
 9 
 189 
 14 
 32 
 20 
 
 11 
 160 
 
 13 
 
 70 
 o 
 
 139 
 15 
 26 
 11 
 5 
 7 
 93 
 
 6 
 
 49 
 
 9 
 
 4 
 65 
 
 ■-2 
 35 
 
 20 
 
 "fiO 
 69 
 
 18 
 14-24 
 
 3d Thursday in Juno 
 
 2a Thursday in July. 
 
 140 
 
 122 '.'^8 
 
 al5o' «l-'>"'^ 304 
 
 187 000 
 
 
 150 
 151 
 
 TTniv .. 1 
 Cong .. 1 
 R.C ... 1 
 M. P.. 
 
 M. E .. 
 State . . 3 
 
 17 
 40 
 U 
 3 
 9 
 77 
 
 8 
 43 
 
 5 
 13 
 
 84 
 
 O60 
 
 25 
 
 6250 
 
 also 
 14-24 
 
 12, 000 
 12, 000 
 
 3d Wednesday in July. 
 Last Thursda'y in June. 
 
 153 
 154 
 155 
 
 IW 
 
 a20 
 Free . . . 
 Free . . . 
 
 12 
 
 12 
 
 8-20 
 
 ■"i,'66o 
 
 25, 000 
 
 3d Thursday in June. 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 Last Wednesday in June. 
 
 157 
 
 1W 
 
 F. w. ii i 
 
 1313 
 
 19 
 
 15 
 
 9 
 
 9 
 
 220 
 
 305 
 
 -'20 
 
 565 
 
 alOO 
 
 8-12 
 
 3,000 
 
 2d Thursday in Juno. 
 
 ^^1 
 
 Bapt... 1 
 Cong . . 1 
 
 2175 
 27 
 
 8 
 14 
 
 4 
 17 
 
 4 
 6 
 
 11 
 3 
 
 7 
 160 
 
 138 
 134 
 
 71 
 99 
 
 209 
 233 
 
 6 
 7 
 
 
 2, Olio 
 4,000 
 
 3d Wednesday in June. 
 Last Thursday but one in 
 June. 
 
 ICO 
 
 ini 
 
 14-20 
 
 KW 
 
 Cong... ; 
 State .. £ 
 Bapt. . 
 
 5'^ 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 41 
 342 
 
 15 
 93 
 
 50 
 335 
 
 8 
 
 11 
 
 IC 
 
 9G8 
 3,558 
 
 
 1(i3 
 
 
 
 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 
 in4 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 165 
 166 
 
 Bapt — ■ 
 M.E... . 
 
 120 
 
 12 
 
 11 
 
 7 
 
 3 
 
 .... 
 
 153 
 
 
 153 
 
 a50 
 
 15-17 
 
 
 Last Tuesday in June. 
 
 167 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 168 
 
 Pres .... 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 169 
 
 no 
 
 State . . 10 
 E.C ...14 
 2 
 
 11 
 
 15 
 
 20 
 
 13 
 
 18 
 
 34 
 
 111 
 142 
 47 
 
 
 111 
 142 
 47 
 
 Free . . . 
 
 6330 
 
 O30-50 
 
 18 
 
 
 Last Thursday in Juno. 
 
 171 
 
 40 
 
 5 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 ft.. 
 
 50-20 
 10 
 
 540 
 
 3d Thur.sday in July. 
 
 179 
 
 e 
 
 173 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 174 
 
 R.C 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 175 
 
 176 
 
 State .. 12 
 M.E.S. 6 
 Pres... 6 
 M.E... 4 
 P.E 
 
 118 
 13 
 
 48 
 
 20 
 
 22 
 
 9 
 
 'gi 
 
 177 
 
 104 
 90 
 
 58 
 
 40 
 34 
 
 217 
 104 
 90 
 92 
 
 o40 
 
 25 
 
 o50 
 
 a40 
 
 12-20 
 16 
 13 
 
 al50 
 
 5,000 
 "2,060 
 
 Last "Wednesday in Jnn& 
 Opens Scptemlicr 21. 
 3d Thursi'.ay in .luue. 
 4th Thursday m June. 
 1st Wednesday iu J uno. 
 
 177 
 
 178 
 171 
 
 ... 
 
 
 ... 
 
 
 180 
 
 Bapt... 1 
 P.E ... a 
 M.E.S. 2 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 152 
 
 
 152 
 CO 
 
 aOO 
 
 12-16 
 
 4,000 
 800 
 
 181 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 182 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 183 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 100 
 93 
 40 
 
 
 
 
 
 184 
 
 6 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 185 
 
 3 
 
 ... 
 
 
 
 ... 
 
 
 .... 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
458 EEPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 
 
 • STATISTICS OF COLLEGES AND COLLEGIATE 
 
 Xame, 
 
 186 
 187 
 168 
 189 
 100 
 101 
 192 
 193 
 194 
 195 
 ISC 
 197 
 198 
 199 
 200 
 SOI 
 203 
 203 
 204 
 205 
 
 20G 
 207 
 208 
 209 
 210 
 211 
 
 212 
 213 
 214 
 215 
 216 
 217 
 218 
 219 
 
 2sa 
 
 221 
 
 222 
 
 223 
 224 
 225 
 22C 
 
 227 
 
 223 
 229 
 230 
 231 
 232 
 233 
 234 
 233 
 230 
 237 
 238 
 239 
 240 
 241 
 242' 
 24:"i| 
 244 
 245 
 S40 
 247 
 84^ 
 
 St, Paul's College 
 
 Bethel Collese 
 
 Hannibal College 
 
 McGee College 
 
 Jolinaon College 
 
 St. Joseph's College 
 
 St. Louis TTiiiveisity 
 
 \\';tsl]i[ii;Ion I'iii\"eisity .... 
 Collri^iot tlieCliiist'u brothers 
 
 Cougieuatiniial College 
 
 Nebra.^'iia College 
 
 Dartmouth College 
 
 Burlington College 
 
 Rutgers College 
 
 College of Now Jersey 
 
 Seton Hall College 
 
 Alircd University 
 
 Franeiscan College 
 
 St. Stephen's College 
 
 Brooklyn Collegiate and Poly- 
 technic Institute. 
 
 St. John B.aptiat's College 
 
 Canisius College 
 
 St. Joseph's College 
 
 Martin Luther College 
 
 St. Lawrence University 
 
 Ilamilton College 
 
 St. John'.H College 
 
 Uobart College 
 
 Mailison University 
 
 Cornell University 
 
 Genesee College 
 
 College of the City of New York 
 
 College of St. Francis Xavier. . 
 
 Columbia College 
 
 Slanhattan College 
 
 University of the City of New- 
 York. 
 
 St. Joseph's College 
 
 University of Kochester 
 
 Union College 
 
 Syracuse University 
 
 liensselaer Polytechnic Insti- 
 tute. 
 
 University of North Carolina.. 
 
 Wake Forest College 
 
 Kutherforil College 
 
 OlinColh-go 
 
 Davidson College 
 
 North Carolina College 
 
 Trinity College 
 
 IJuchtel College 
 
 Ohio University 
 
 Baldwin University 
 
 German W.allaco College 
 
 St. Xavier College 
 
 Mount St. M:irv'.s of the West 
 
 Fannrrs- C"1N ge 
 
 Capitol rnivei.sity 
 
 Ken von College - 
 
 Denison University 
 
 Uarlcin Sprin'i.s College 
 
 We.stini Itc servo College 
 
 St. Louis College 
 
 Marietta College 
 
 Mount Union College 
 
 Location. 
 
 P.tlmyra, Mo 
 
 Palmyra, Mo 
 
 Hannibal. Mo 
 
 College Mound. Mo. 
 
 Macon City, Mo 
 
 St. Joseph, Mo 
 
 St. Louis, Mo 
 
 do. 
 
 St. Louis, Mo 
 
 Fontenelle, Nebr 
 
 Nebraska City, Nobr. . 
 
 Hanover, N. li 
 
 Bui'lington, N. J 
 
 New Brunswick, N. J . 
 
 Princeton, N. J 
 
 South Or.ango, N. J ... 
 
 Alfred, N. Y 
 
 Allegheny, N. Y 
 
 Anuandale, N. Y 
 
 Brooklyn, N.Y 
 
 do 
 
 Buflfalo, N. Y . 
 
 do 
 
 do 
 
 Canton, N. Y . 
 Clinton, N. Y . 
 
 Fordham, N. Y 
 
 Geneva, N.Y 
 
 Hamilton, N.Y 
 
 Ithaca, N.Y 
 
 Lim.a, N. Y 
 
 New York City, N. Y. 
 
 do '. 
 
 do , 
 
 .do . 
 -do. 
 
 Rhineelitr, N. Y.... 
 Eochestcr, N. Y . . . 
 Schenectady, N. Y. 
 
 Syracuse, N. Y 
 
 Troy,N.Y 
 
 1869 
 1848 
 1863 
 1834 
 18C8 
 1867 
 1832 
 1857 
 1857 
 
 1808 
 1709 
 1846 
 1770 
 1740 
 1850 
 1830 
 
 Chapel Hill, N. C 
 
 Forestville, N. C 
 
 Happy Home P. O., N. C 
 
 Iredeill'ountv, N. C 
 
 Meeklrnburgh County,N.C 
 Mount Pleasant, N. 0.-- 
 Randolph Count.y, N. 0. . 
 
 Akron, Ohio 
 
 Athens, Ohio 
 
 Bere.a, Ohio 
 
 Cincinnati, Ohio 
 
 do 
 
 do 
 
 College Hill, Ohio 
 
 Columbus, Ohio 
 
 Gambier, Ohio 
 
 Granville, Ohio......... 
 
 ITailem Springs, Ohio 
 
 Hudson. tHiio 
 
 Loui.s\ ille, Ohio 
 
 Marietta, Ohio 
 
 Mount Union, Ohio 
 
 1800 
 I8D4 
 
 1870 
 1870 
 180; 
 1853 
 1850 
 1812 
 
 1840 
 
 la 
 
 1819 
 1803 
 1849 
 18.->4 
 184' 
 1754 
 1663 
 1831 
 
 1850 
 1795 
 1870 
 
 1795 
 1834 
 1870 
 1853 
 183' 
 18.59 
 1850 
 
 1804 
 1856 
 1803 
 1842 
 
 leni 
 
 1846 
 
 ie: 
 
 1831 
 
 186- 
 1820 
 1860 
 1835 
 1846 
 
 President. 
 
 Eev. E. Hose, A. M 
 
 Eev. W. B. Corbin 
 
 J. F. Hamilton 
 
 J.B.Mitchell 
 
 E. W.Hall 
 
 Brother Agatho 
 
 Eev. J. a. Zealand, S. J. 
 
 W. G. Eliot, D. D 
 
 Brother Edward 
 
 Eev. J. McNamara, D, D 
 
 Eev. A. D. Smith, D. D., LL, D. . . 
 Et. Eev.W. H. Odenheimer, D. D. 
 Eev. W.H.Campbell, D. D., LL. D. 
 Eev. J. McCosh, D. D., LL. D . .. 
 Very Rev. M. A. Corrigan, D. D. 
 Rev. J. Allen 
 
 Eev. E. B. Fairb.iirn, D. D 
 
 D. H. Cochran, Ph. D., LL. D . . 
 
 Eev. J. T. Landry, C. M 
 
 Rev. W. Becker, S. J 
 
 Brother Frank 
 
 Eev. J. F. Winkler 
 
 E. Fisk, ir., D. D 
 
 Eev. S. G. Brown, D. D., LL. D. 
 
 Eev. J. Shea, S. J 
 
 Eev. J. Eankino, D. D . . 
 E. Dodge, D. D., LL. D . 
 A. D. White, LL.D 
 
 A.S. Webh.LL. D 
 
 Eev. H. Hudon, S. J 
 
 F. A. P. Barnard, S. T. D., LL. D. 
 
 Brother Patrick 
 
 Howard Crosby, D. D 
 
 Eev. M. J. Scully 
 
 M. B. Anilerson.'LL. D. 
 Rev. E. N. Potter, D. D. 
 D. Steele, D. D, (acting) . 
 
 S. Pool 
 
 W. M. Winsate, D. D 
 
 Eev. E. L. Aberuethy, A. M . . . . 
 
 J. Southinite 
 
 Eo f . G. W. McPhaU, D. D., LL. D 
 
 Eev. L. A. Bikle. A. M 
 
 Eev. B. Craven, D. D 
 
 Eev. H. F. Miller, Sec 
 
 Rev, S. Howard, D. D., LL. D. . .. 
 
 W. D. GoduKin, D. D 
 
 W.Nast,D.D. 
 
 Eev. T. O'Neil 
 
 F. J. Pabi.sh, D. D., LL. D., D.C.L 
 
 CD. Curtis . 
 
 Eev. W. F. Lehm.an 
 
 E. T. Tapp.an 
 
 Eev. S. Talbot, D. D 
 
 C. Cutler A. 51 
 
 F. Hours 
 
 L W. Andrews, D. D 
 
 Eev. 0. N. Hartshorn, LL. D. 
 
STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 459 
 
 DEPAKTMENTS IN THE UNITED STATES, &c.— Continued. 
 
 
 1 
 
 z 
 
 .1 - 
 1 1 
 
 a s 
 S 1 
 
 Students. 
 
 Cost of— 
 
 s 
 
 a 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 B 
 a 
 'A 
 
 a 
 
 a 
 S. 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 rt 
 
 1 
 1^ 
 
 i 
 a 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 s 
 
 1 
 
 
 en 
 
 
 '5 
 s 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 'a 
 
 1 
 c . 
 
 5 
 
 
 a 
 
 ■a 
 1 
 
 § 
 1 
 
 a 
 
 Time of commencement. 
 
 iRn 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 70 
 80 
 80 
 213 
 80 
 
 
 
 
 
 1R7 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 .1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 IPO 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 101 
 
 n c 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 19"^ 
 
 II. c... 2 
 
 2 
 
 2124 
 7104 
 
 21 
 10 
 
 6 
 6 
 
 7 
 5 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 'ish 
 
 ICl 
 314 
 
 
 161 
 314 
 
 6380 
 o43 
 
 
 10, 000 
 6,000 
 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 3d Thursday in June. 
 
 lOT 
 
 
 
 It c 
 
 
 10"i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 mo 
 
 197 
 198 
 199 
 200 
 "01 
 
 r.E"... 
 
 Coni;. .. 3 
 P.E ... 
 Itef....l 
 Prc-s...l 
 K.C ...1 
 Bapt...3 
 
 5 9 
 3... 
 5 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 20 
 3C0 
 
 
 29 
 360 
 
 6S280 
 
 
 1,500 
 44, 900 
 
 
 CO 
 
 75 
 
 78 
 
 69 
 
 78 
 
 ?10-16 
 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 
 3195 
 
 8..- 
 
 5S 
 
 1 9li 
 
 54 
 87 
 14 
 33 
 
 47 
 
 100 
 
 8 
 
 "' 
 
 56 
 
 87 
 
 8 
 
 15 
 
 33 
 95 
 12 
 5 
 
 328 
 
 383 
 380 
 130 
 130 
 
 233 
 
 385 
 380 
 130 
 408 
 
 a75 
 
 a140 
 
 6400 
 
 10 
 
 16-24 
 16-24 
 
 '30,' 01)0 
 8,000 
 6,000 
 
 3d Wednesday in June. 
 Last Wednesday iu -Tune. 
 
 203 
 "03 
 
 G-13 
 
 1st Wednesday in July. 
 
 204 
 "Ol 
 
 P.E... 
 
 2 
 
 8 27 
 6 438 
 
 14 
 
 10 
 
 15 
 
 8 
 
 134 
 
 71 
 562 
 
 
 74 
 562 
 
 Free . . 
 al20 
 
 a225 
 
 1,800 
 3,000 
 
 1st Thursday in July. 
 3d Wednesday in Juno, 
 
 •mn 
 
 K C 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 P^C ... 
 
 n.c ...1 
 
 liUth 
 
 n 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 C2 
 291 
 
 ... 
 
 C2 
 291 
 
 aSO 
 6220 
 
 
 
 
 "0^ 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 2,000 
 
 July 2. 
 
 "no 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 210 
 211 
 
 0]0 
 
 Univ ..1 
 Pies . . . 1 
 
 Pv.C ...2 
 P.E ... 
 Uapt 1 
 
 Citv ... 3 
 K. b 2 
 P.E ...1 
 K.t! ...4 
 
 ; 
 
 3... 
 
 3... 
 
 1 
 
 11 
 4j 
 
 14 
 
 39 
 
 G 
 39 
 
 10 
 41 
 
 6 
 
 27 
 1G4 
 
 265 
 39 
 1G5 
 4B0 
 48 
 723 
 477 
 117 
 631 
 107 
 
 20 
 
 "s 
 
 47 
 164 
 
 265 
 .39 
 105 
 490 
 50 
 723 
 477 
 117 
 031 
 107 
 
 a25 
 20 
 
 6300 
 
 15 
 
 030 
 
 a45 
 
 12 
 0114-190 
 
 ""iij^ib 
 
 12 
 
 o330 
 
 6, 066 
 12, COO 
 
 "is," 660 
 
 10, 434 
 30,000 
 5,300 
 2fl, 000 
 14, 000 
 2,000 
 6, 500 
 3,000 
 
 Last "Wcdncsclny in June. 
 Tlinrstlay after last Tues- 
 day in'JiiDe. 
 
 213 
 
 214 
 215 
 
 "in 
 
 9... 
 
 2 51 
 
 8... 
 4 .. 
 410 
 5371 
 2 
 
 3 448 
 
 14 
 34 
 
 10 
 8 
 1.03 
 37 
 31 
 
 27 
 
 3 
 
 24 
 
 "0 
 72 
 29 
 33 
 29 
 31 
 
 15 
 
 40 
 4 
 10 
 49 
 17 
 33 
 15 
 21 
 
 7 
 10 
 5 
 7 
 39 
 10 
 39 
 11 
 28 
 
 '449 
 25 
 
 107 
 
 ioi 
 
 2(1 Thurstlny aftcr41hJuly. 
 3(1 Wednesday in Juuo. 
 4tb Thursday iu Juno. 
 2d Thursday in July. 
 
 "n 
 
 Free 
 
 
 "H 
 
 aOO 
 
 
 Last. Monday in Juno. 
 
 910 
 
 
 Last Wednesday in June. 
 
 Juno 30. 
 
 2d Thui'sday before July 4. 
 
 230 
 
 a50 
 
 30 
 
 0.70 
 
 Pv. C ... . 
 
 
 
 223 
 224 
 225 
 ""fi 
 
 Bapt. . . 
 Prc3...l 
 M.E... 
 1 
 
 9... 
 G... 
 7... 
 
 9 
 
 23 
 20 
 29 
 
 23 
 25 
 
 8 
 
 IB 
 
 25 
 
 G 
 
 24 
 19 
 17 
 
 33 
 
 131 
 89 
 51 
 
 "9 
 
 131 
 81 
 GO 
 
 20 
 15 
 20 
 
 14-20 
 13-20 
 18-20 
 
 'iii.'coo 
 1,395 
 
 Last Wednesday in Juno. 
 Wednesday belore 4th July, 
 4th Thursday in Juno. 
 
 237 
 
 StatB . . 
 Eapt... 
 Moth .. 
 
 «... 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 55 
 100 
 95 
 
 38 
 
 55 
 100 
 123 
 
 (j40 
 o70 
 a30 
 
 12 
 10-12 
 7-10 
 
 21, 700 
 
 8,000 
 
 200 
 
 2d Thursday in June. 
 4th Thursday in Juno. 
 1st Wedntsday in Auyrist. 
 
 n.i(i 
 
 7 14 
 
 
 
 
 
 109 
 
 "30 
 
 
 
 
 
 231 
 232 
 233 
 
 "34 
 
 Pres... 
 Luth .. 
 M.E.S. 
 
 7... 
 
 5 70 
 
 6 23 
 
 "0 
 34 
 
 30 
 
 C 
 
 21 
 
 IG 
 
 'ie 
 
 32 
 
 2 
 10 
 
 
 
 "54 
 
 '11 
 165 
 
 
 113 
 165 
 
 a45 
 
 020-40 
 
 aC3 
 
 14 
 
 8-10 
 10-13 
 
 3,000 
 1,200 
 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 Last Thursday in May. 
 3d Thursday in June. 
 
 "31 
 
 State .. 
 M.E...1 
 M.E... 
 R.C ...1 
 U.C ...1 
 Moth 
 
 5 67 
 1 20 
 
 5... 
 7188 
 6... 
 
 9 
 5 
 
 '34 
 
 C 
 3 
 
 '21 
 
 5 
 3 
 
 'i- 
 
 5 
 6 
 
 "9 
 
 29 
 1C9 
 
 121 
 110 
 
 74 
 269 
 
 80 
 
 '96 
 19 
 
 ... 
 
 131 
 306 
 
 93 
 2119 
 
 80 
 
 10 
 021 
 4-9 
 aOO 
 
 
 5,000 
 
 1,000 
 
 600 
 
 12,000 
 
 10, 000 
 
 Last Friday in June. 
 
 930 
 
 
 "37 
 
 
 Second Thursday iu Juno. 
 Last Wednesday in Juno, 
 Juno 24. 
 
 "3S 
 
 
 230 
 "40 
 
 IC 
 
 241 
 
 Liith... . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 243 
 243 
 944 
 
 P.E...1 
 Bapt . . . 
 
 2 47 
 8 49 
 
 13 
 
 22 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 9 
 
 13 
 
 10 
 
 7 
 
 "97 
 
 92 
 202 
 
 
 93 
 202 
 
 043 
 o34 
 
 12-16 
 12 
 
 18, 330 
 10, 500 
 
 Last TJuirsday in June. 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 
 V4'i 
 
 
 1 42 
 
 10 
 
 17 
 
 20 
 
 14 
 
 .... 
 
 lOD 
 
 
 109 
 
 030 
 
 10-16 
 
 10, 000 
 
 Last Wednesday in June. 
 
 '>At 
 
 R.C .. 
 
 247 
 243 
 
 C.& P. 
 M. E...1 
 
 9 92 
 9 30 
 
 35 
 172 
 
 26 
 93 
 
 13 
 
 40 
 
 17 
 
 54 
 
 '375 
 
 183 
 
 418 
 
 246 
 
 183 
 664 
 
 o38 
 13 
 
 10-16 
 
 0108 
 
 23, 350 
 3,400 
 
 Wednesday before July 4. 
 Last Thursday in July. 
 
4C0 REPORT OP THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 
 
 STATISTICS OF COLLEGES AND COLLEGIATK 
 
 249 
 
 230 
 
 2.'il 
 
 252 
 
 253 
 
 254 
 
 251 
 
 250 
 
 257 
 
 258 
 
 25a 
 
 260 
 
 261 
 
 262 
 
 263 
 
 264 
 
 265 
 
 2li6 
 
 268 
 
 269 
 
 270 
 
 271 
 
 272 
 
 273 
 
 274 
 
 2- 
 
 270 
 
 27' 
 
 276 
 279 
 
 2B0 
 281 
 282 
 283 
 284 
 285 
 2SG 
 287 
 2Si 
 289 
 290 
 291 
 
 292 
 293 
 294 
 295 
 290 
 297 
 
 298 
 299 
 30O 
 301 
 S02 
 303 
 304 
 305 
 306 
 3.17 
 308 
 309 
 
 '.310 
 
 ^ame. 
 
 Franlilin CoUejio 
 
 Musliin^nni CoUego 
 
 Oberlin College 
 
 Miami TTniversity 
 
 Kicbmond College 
 
 Wittenberg College 
 
 Heidelberg College 
 
 Urbaiia University 
 
 Otterbein University 
 
 Willoughby College 
 
 University of Wooster 
 
 Antioeh College 
 
 Wilberforco University 
 
 Senia College 
 
 Ohio Wesleyan University 
 
 Kcw Market College 
 
 Ohio Central College 
 
 Hiram College 
 
 Pacific University 
 
 Oregon College 
 
 Willamette University 
 
 Hulv Angels College 
 
 Pbiloniath College 
 
 Avery College 
 
 Muhlenberg College 
 
 Andalusia College 
 
 Lebanon Valley College 
 
 Moravian College 
 
 Dicliinson College 
 
 Augustinian College of Villa- 
 nova. 
 
 Lafayette College 
 
 Penlisvlvania College 
 
 Franldin and Marshall College 
 
 Lcwisburgh University 
 
 St. Francis College 
 
 Allegheny College 
 
 Mereersburgh College 
 
 Palatinate College 
 
 Westminster College 
 
 Lincoln University 
 
 Maimonides College 
 
 Department of Arts, University 
 of rrnnsvlvania. 
 
 La Salle ( -olle^'P 
 
 St..Josri,li\sC(,llege , 
 
 Western l.'niver.sity 
 
 Lehiirh University 
 
 Swartlimore College , 
 
 Washington and Jefferson Col- 
 lege. 
 
 Wayiiesbnrgh College 
 
 Uaverford College 
 
 St. Vincent's t'ollego 
 
 Ursinus College 
 
 IJrnvt'u University 
 
 College of ('liarle.ston ... 
 
 University of South Carolina. 
 
 Furnian University 
 
 Clafiin University 
 
 Woflbrd College 
 
 Newberry College 
 
 East Tclmessee Wesleyap 
 University. 
 
 King College 
 
 Location. 
 
 New Athens. Ohio — 
 New Concord, Ohio — 
 
 Oberlin, Ohio 
 
 Orford.Ohio 
 
 Richmond, Ohio 
 
 Springfield, Ohio 
 
 TilBn.Ohio 
 
 Urbana, Ohio 
 
 Westerville, Ohio 
 
 Willoughby, Ohio 
 
 Wooster. Ohio 
 
 Yellow Springs, Ohio. 
 
 Near Xenia, Ohio 
 
 Senia, Ohio 
 
 Delaware, Ohio 
 
 Scio P. O.. Ohio 
 
 Iberia, Ohio 
 
 Hiram, Ohio -.. 
 
 Forest Grove, Oreg. . . 
 
 Oregon City, Oreg 
 
 S-alem, Oreg 
 
 Vancouver, Oreg 
 
 Philomath, Oreg 
 
 AlleghenyCity, Pa. .. 
 
 AUentow'n, Pa 
 
 And.alusia, Pa 
 
 Annvillo, Pa 
 
 Bethlehem, Pa 
 
 Carlisle, Pa 
 
 Delaware County, Pa. 
 
 Easton, Pa 
 
 Gcttysburgh, Pa 
 
 Lancaster. Pa 
 
 Lcwisburgh, Pa 
 
 Loretto, Pa 
 
 Meadville. Pa 
 
 Mercer.sbirriih, Pa 
 
 MyerstowD, Pa 
 
 New Wilmington, Pa... 
 
 Oxford, Pa 
 
 Philadelphia, Pa 
 
 do 
 
 do 
 
 .. ..do 
 
 Pittsburgh, Pa 
 
 Soutli l;ethlilirm, Pa.. 
 
 Swart huiore, Pa 
 
 Washington, Pa 
 
 Wayneahurgh, Pa 
 
 West Oaverford, Pa 
 
 Westmoreland County, Pa 
 
 Freeland, Pa 
 
 Providence, R. I 
 
 Charleston, S. C 
 
 Columbia, S. C 
 
 Greenville, S, C 
 
 Orangeburgh, S. C 
 
 Spartanburgh C. H., S. C. . . 
 
 W.alhalla. S. C 
 
 Athens, Tenn 
 
 Bristol, Tenn 1869 Kev. J. D. Tadlock 
 
 182: 
 1837 
 1834 
 1809 
 1833 
 18(4 
 185(1 
 1852 
 1837 
 1855 
 1870 
 1854 
 1863 
 1850 
 1842 
 1859 
 1854 
 1867 
 1859 
 1830 
 1853 
 
 1807 
 1801 
 1866 
 
 1807 
 1783 
 1848 
 
 1820 
 
 1832 
 
 1853 
 
 184' 
 
 1850 
 
 181 
 
 1805 
 
 iwa 
 
 1854 
 
 1733 
 
 1802 
 18.52 
 1819 
 1866 
 1809 
 1802 
 
 1830 
 1833 
 1840 
 1869 
 1764 
 1787 
 1801 
 1851 
 1869 
 1851 
 1859 
 1807 
 
 President. 
 
 A. F. P^ss, LL. D 
 
 Rev. D. Paul, A. M 
 
 Rev. J. II. Fairchild, D. D . . 
 
 Rev. A. D. Hepburn 
 
 L. W.Ong.A.M 
 
 Rev. S. Sprecher, D. D 
 
 Rev. G. W. Willard, D. D . . . 
 
 Rev. F. Sewall, A. M , 
 
 Rev. L. Davis, D. D 
 
 L.O.Lee 
 
 Eev. W. Lord, D. D 
 
 G. W. Eosmcr, D. D 
 
 Rt. Rev. D. A. Payne, D. D . 
 
 Wm. Smith, A. M 
 
 Rev. F. Merrick, D. D 
 
 A.D.Lee.A.M 
 
 E.F.Reed 
 
 B. A. Hinsdale, A. M 
 
 Rev. S. U. Marsh, D. D 
 
 G. C. Chandler, D. D 
 
 T. M. Gatch, A. M 
 
 Prof Biddle . 
 
 Rev. F. A. Muhlenberg, D. D . 
 
 Rev. H. T. Wells, LL. D 
 
 L. n. n-ammond, A. M 
 
 Rt. Rev. E. de Schweinitz, D. D.. 
 
 Rev. R. L. D.ishiell, D. D 
 
 Very Rev. P. A. Stanton, 0. S. A 
 
 Rev. W. C. Cattell, D. D . . 
 
 M.Valentine, D.D 
 
 Rev. J. W. Nevin, D. D . . . 
 Rev. J. R. Loomis, LL. D . 
 
 Rev. A. J. Brownam 
 
 Uev. G. Loomis, D. D 
 
 Rev. E. E. Higby, D.D.. 
 Rev. n. R.Nicks, A.M... 
 
 R. A. Brown, D. I) 
 
 Rev. L N. RendaU, D. D . . 
 
 C.J.Still<i,LL.D. 
 
 Brother Oliver 
 
 Rev. P. A. Jordan, S.J. 
 
 G. Woods. LL.D 
 
 n. Coppee, LL. D 
 
 E. U. McGill 
 
 Rev. G. P. Hays, D. D . 
 
 A. B. Miller, D. D 
 
 S. J. Gummere, A.M 
 
 Rev. A. Heimler, O. S. B 
 
 J. H. A. Bomberger, D. D 
 
 Rev. A. Caswell, D. D., LL. D. . 
 
 N. R. Middleton 
 
 Hon. R. W. Barnwell, LL. D... 
 
 J.C.Furraan. D.D 
 
 A. Webster, D. D 
 
 Rev. A. M. Shipp, A. M., D. D . 
 
 Rev. J. P. Smeltzer, A. M 
 
 Rev. N. E. Cobleigh, D. D 
 
STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 DEPAETMEKTS IS TITE TOUTED STATES, &c.— Continned. 
 
 461 
 
 
 § 1 
 
 ! 1 
 
 Students. 
 
 Coat of-^ 
 
 (-1 
 
 a 
 
 1 
 
 ■8 
 
 125 
 
 
 1 
 
 a 
 
 a 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 B 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 i 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 a 
 
 02 
 
 i 
 
 £ 
 
 p. 
 
 
 
 u 
 
 a 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 ZJ 
 "n 
 ^ 
 
 s 
 
 ■?. 
 
 a 
 
 
 i 
 
 ■1 
 
 i 
 
 "3 
 
 
 a 
 
 u 
 
 04 
 
 Time of commencement. 
 
 
 U.P... 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 58 
 
 13 
 
 71 
 
 iiS30 
 
 ei3-i6 
 
 
 Last Thursday in Juno. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 251 
 25J 
 
 Cons .. ". 
 state .. 
 
 0G78 
 8 45 
 4 20 
 7 90 
 9120 
 
 61 
 17 
 31 
 
 24 
 18 
 
 30 
 18 
 14 
 19 
 
 18 
 
 30 
 17 
 
 7 
 19 
 
 5 
 
 40 
 19 
 4 
 17 
 16 
 
 328 056 
 23,139 
 25 55 
 
 517 
 '52 
 '30 
 
 1173 
 139 
 107 
 1T7 
 177 
 
 3 
 
 o45 
 
 10 
 
 a30 
 
 o26 
 
 10 
 
 18-20 
 12 
 10 
 10 
 
 10, 000 
 9,000 
 
 "6,066 
 4,800 
 
 First 'Wednesday in Aug. 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 Third Wednesday in Jun& 
 
 254 
 255 
 
 "nil 
 
 Luth... 
 IJcf ... 
 N Ch 
 
 8 
 
 177 
 147 
 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 June 21. 
 
 257 
 
 U.B... 
 
 7 20 
 
 8 37 
 
 
 14 
 33 
 
 10 
 
 18 
 
 12 
 11 
 
 10 
 4 
 
 70 
 
 18 
 
 87 
 49 
 
 49 
 03 
 
 136 
 111 
 
 72 
 215 
 100 
 176 
 417 
 155 
 
 92 
 169 
 
 98 
 
 olO 
 
 8 
 
 15 
 
 n38 
 
 5-7 
 
 12 
 
 a34 
 
 13 
 
 6130-200 
 
 6200-300 
 
 a33 
 
 12 
 
 
 1st Wednesd'y after May 2S. 
 June 23. 
 
 12-16 
 
 10 
 
 0I33 
 
 6-13 
 
 16 
 
 14-18 
 
 16 
 
 3,000 
 
 2,500 
 
 4,700 
 
 3,500 
 
 350 
 
 13,036 
 
 500 
 
 500 
 
 2,000 
 
 5,000 
 
 
 Pres . . . 
 Unit...l 
 A.iI.E. 
 MotU .. 
 M.E... 
 
 
 260 
 2C1 
 
 Cj 
 
 8 88 
 7 27 
 
 9 74 
 
 . ao 
 
 4 
 
 12 
 2 
 
 6 
 
 4 
 4 
 
 3 
 4 
 
 125 
 
 
 
 149 
 151 
 
 110 
 02 
 39 
 
 417 
 
 103 
 63 
 
 123 
 64 
 
 99 
 38 
 137 
 
 '56 
 29 
 44 
 34 
 
 Last "Wednesday in June. 
 June 21. 
 
 2C3 
 
 64 
 100 
 
 40 
 21 
 
 37 
 14 
 
 45 
 
 Last Thursday in June, 
 
 265 
 
 U.P... 
 Chr....l 
 
 
 
 June 22. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 "fifl 
 
 7 33 
 
 4 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 
 57 
 
 0180 
 
 First Wednesday in Juno. 
 
 269 
 
 Bapt 
 
 
 270 
 
 M.E...i 
 
 3 188 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 45 
 
 129 
 
 127 
 
 256 
 
 15 
 
 16-2 
 
 650 
 
 Tliird Thursday in June. 
 
 07.) 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 70 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 274 
 
 Lath... 
 P. E...1 
 U.B... 
 
 Mor 
 
 9 16 
 1 35 
 7 20 
 
 18 
 "6 
 
 18 
 13 
 5 
 
 13 
 5 
 5 
 
 14 
 4 
 
 63 
 
 "si 
 
 142 
 
 77 
 93 
 
 24 
 
 142 
 77 
 117 
 
 a45 
 6300 
 047 
 
 Ol50 
 
 2,800 
 400 
 
 Last Thursday in Jnne. 
 
 276 
 077 
 
 16 
 
 Last Thursday but one in 
 June. 
 
 278 
 279 
 
 M.E... 
 E. C...1 
 
 Pres...'. 
 LutU .. 1 
 G.R... 
 Bapt... 
 E.C .. 
 
 8... 
 5 
 
 26 
 
 31 
 
 20 
 
 18 
 
 30 
 
 125 
 110 
 
 231 
 177 
 124 
 150 
 
 io 
 
 125 
 110 
 
 231 
 177 
 134 
 
 156 
 
 OlO 
 6250 
 
 15 
 
 13 
 
 13 
 
 a3C 
 
 io^ie 
 
 23, 503 
 4,000 
 
 8,000 
 17, 800 
 8,000 
 5,000 
 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 Last Wednesday in Jiuie^ 
 
 3d "Wednesday in June. 
 Last Thursday in Juno. 
 Last Thur.sday in Juno. 
 Last Tuesday in Jiinei 
 
 280 
 881 
 282 
 
 293 
 
 W-1 
 
 5 .. 
 
 1 63 
 7 59 
 
 6 3G 
 
 83 
 34 
 17 
 
 29 
 
 67 
 20 
 10 
 15 
 
 32 
 31 
 
 a? 
 
 16 
 
 38 
 23 
 14 
 20 
 
 11 
 
 "46 
 
 20-24 
 0I37 
 14-18 
 ia-16 
 
 283 
 
 M.E... 
 G.E... 
 G.E... 
 U.P... 
 Prea... 
 
 C 25 
 6 63 
 C.. 
 6 ,52 
 8 71 
 
 21 
 19 
 
 '35 
 34 
 
 15 
 10 
 
 32 
 23 
 
 11 
 
 8 
 
 io 
 
 18 
 
 20 
 2 
 
 '31 
 15 
 
 "a 
 
 "64 
 
 83 
 90 
 233 
 ICb 
 158 
 
 7 
 14 
 50 
 64 
 
 192 
 2iO 
 2S3 
 130 
 158 
 
 ""6200 
 
 03-3 
 
 a23 
 
 10 
 
 16 
 
 12, 000 
 
 June 20. 
 
 2d "Wednesday in Juna. 
 2d Tlmrsday in June. 
 Last Thursday in June, 
 3(1 "Wednesday in Juno. 
 
 2rfT 
 28S 
 289 
 
 0154 
 
 8-16 
 
 10 
 
 600 
 
 1,500 
 
 28,000 
 
 "11 
 
 State . . 
 
 E.C... 
 R.C ... 
 
 P.E... 
 
 Fr 
 
 Pres . . . 
 
 C.P ... 
 
 Ft 
 
 K. C . . . 
 Eef.... 
 Bapt. . 
 
 iC... 
 5 
 
 31 
 
 30 
 
 38 
 
 20 
 
 62 
 
 187 
 
 212 
 340 
 217 
 UC 
 134 
 116 
 
 94 
 
 187 
 
 212 
 340 
 217 
 110 
 
 238 
 
 lie 
 
 275 
 
 51 
 
 22" 
 
 120 
 225 
 50 
 7C 
 5C 
 
 lo: 
 
 13( 
 
 8e 
 14; 
 
 m 
 
 
 
 
 
 O0-1 
 
 06O-8O 
 
 "ie^25 
 
 Free . 
 6350 
 8 
 
 oia 
 
 
 3,000 
 7,500 
 2,600 
 2,000 
 
 End of June. 
 
 «*n 
 
 B 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 10-15 
 10-24 
 
 20 
 
 Ist Monday in July, 
 
 204 
 
 295 
 
 10... 
 
 15 48 
 
 173 
 
 10 39 
 
 n 
 
 11 
 
 38 
 30 
 30 
 
 27 
 13 
 
 18 
 14 
 
 17 
 9 
 
 7 
 16 
 
 9 
 
 8 
 
 153 
 
 Last Tuesilay in Jime. 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 
 297 
 
 19 
 
 
 9-16 
 12-14 
 
 "'7,' 837 
 6,000 
 
 "38,' 666 
 8, 000 
 
 27, 000 
 
 Wednesday before July 3, 
 
 2d Thursday in Soptembei. 
 July 12. 
 
 •"Kl 
 
 5... 
 
 K 2; 
 6 96 
 13 .. 
 
 5 
 
 e 
 
 10 
 
 20 
 
 13 
 
 '264 
 
 51 
 
 S2- 
 
 I2C 
 
 22c 
 
 "5( 
 
 71 
 
 5( 
 
 7: 
 
 13( 
 
 8( 
 
 10( 
 
 16! 
 
 ... 
 ... 
 
 30 
 — 
 .. 
 
 43 
 
 !.. 
 
 ino 
 
 ic 
 
 a4f 
 a7f 
 a4C 
 o4: 
 
 1(1 
 
 15 
 
 13-3S 
 
 Last Wednesday in Jun& 
 
 *ini 
 
 la 
 
 56 
 
 ; 
 7t 
 
 41 
 
 
 Last Thur.tday in Jnne. 
 Last Wednesday in Jun& 
 
 302 
 
 SO 
 
 
 
 1(1' 
 
 State .. 
 
 M.E... 
 M.E.S- 
 
 14 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 14 
 
 
 10^ 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 •Iflf 
 
 6 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 200 
 2,000 
 
 360 
 
 
 
 
 30- 
 10' 
 
 7 4; 
 4 7£ 
 9 3; 
 
 14 
 
 2; 
 11 
 
 2J 
 
 It 
 
 11 
 
 
 
 3? 
 o4, 
 
 a4( 
 
 1; 
 IS 
 IS 
 
 Last Wednesday in June. 
 
 3o; 
 
 31( 
 
 M.E... 
 >l 
 
 t 
 
 7a 
 
 2d Wednesday in June. 
 Last Wedneedaybatonelll 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 May, 
 
462 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIOJ^ER OF EDUCATION. 
 
 STATISTICS OF COLLEGES AND COLLEGIATE 
 
 'Same. 
 
 Location. 
 
 Fresidenfv 
 
 313 
 314 
 31: 
 310 
 317 
 318 
 
 319 
 320 
 321 
 322 
 323 
 
 324 
 
 325 
 320 
 327 
 323 
 320 
 330 
 331 
 332 
 333 
 334 
 33, 
 330 
 
 337 
 
 338 
 330 
 340 
 341 
 
 342 
 
 343 
 
 344 
 
 34 
 
 340 
 
 34' 
 
 348 
 
 350 
 
 351 
 
 352 
 
 353 
 
 334 
 
 35.- 
 
 35G 
 
 s: 
 
 358 
 
 330 
 3G0 
 3«1 
 302 
 303 
 ■ 304 
 303 
 300 
 307 
 308 
 309 
 370 
 371 
 372 
 
 Greenville and Tasculum Col- 
 lege. 
 
 "West Tennessee TJniveraity . . 
 
 .Tonesborougb College 
 
 East Tennessee University. . . 
 
 Presbyterian Syiiodical Collegi 
 
 Cumberland Uiiiversity 
 
 Looliont Mountain Educational 
 Institution. 
 
 Hiawassce College 
 
 Mary^'iUo CoUego 
 
 Uuinn University 
 
 Central Tennessee College 
 
 College of Arts, University of 
 Nashville. 
 
 Eisk University 
 
 Franklin College 
 
 University of the South 
 
 St. Joseph's College 
 
 Colorado College 
 
 University of St. Mary 
 
 Aranania College 
 
 Ilenderson College 
 
 E.aylor Univer.sity 
 
 St. Mary's College 
 
 Waco University 
 
 University of Vermont 
 
 Middlebury CoUogo 
 
 Greenville, Tenn. 
 
 Norwich University 
 
 llandolph M.acon College 
 
 University of "Virginia 
 
 Emory and Henry College- . . . 
 Washington and Loo Univer- 
 sity. 
 
 Uani'pden Sidney College 
 
 I;i(biii(.ndC(.ncg6 
 
 lloanc.ko ('..Urge 
 
 i_'(.ll('g.^ of William and Mary. 
 
 Virginia Military Institute 
 
 St. John's College 
 
 liethaii V CoUego 
 
 West A'irgiiiia University 
 
 St. Viiirrnt 's Ciillcgo 
 
 West \'irgiuia College 
 
 Lawrence University 
 
 Wavland University 
 
 Biloit College ; 
 
 r,alcH\ ilbi University 
 
 .laius\illc (Jnlb'20 
 
 University of Wisconsin 
 
 Pio Nono College 
 
 Milton < 'oUego 
 
 liacine College 
 
 Ripon College 
 
 St. John's College 
 
 Northwestern University . 
 
 Carroll College 
 
 Georgetown College 
 
 Columbian College 
 
 Gonraga College 
 
 Howard University 
 
 Santa F6 University 
 
 University of Deseret 
 
 'Woshin^tbQ Uoiveraity . . , 
 
 Jackson, Tenn 
 
 Jonesborough, Tenn 
 
 Knoxville, Tenn 
 
 Lagrange, Tenn 
 
 Lebanon, Tenn 
 
 Lookout Mountain, Ten.. 
 
 Madisonville, Tenn 
 
 Mary ville, Tenn 
 
 Muffreesborough, Tenn.. 
 
 Nashville, Tenn 
 
 , do 
 
 .do. 
 
 Near Nashville, Tenn. 
 
 Sewanee, Tenn 
 
 Brownsville, Texas . . . 
 
 Columbus, Texas 
 
 Galveston, Texas 
 
 Goli.ad, Texas 
 
 Henderson, Texas 
 
 Independence, Texas . 
 San Antonio. Texas ... 
 
 Waco, Texas 
 
 Burlington, Vt 
 
 Middlebury, Vt 
 
 Northfield, Vt.... 
 
 Ashland, Va 
 
 Univ. of Va. P. 0. 
 
 Emory, Va 
 
 Lexington, Va 
 
 1805 
 1807 
 1830 
 1842 
 1800 
 
 1810 
 
 1848 
 1800 
 1800 
 
 1807 
 1844 
 1808 
 
 Eov. W. S. Doak, A. M 
 
 Itev. E. L. Fatten, A. M 
 
 H. Presnell, A. M 
 
 Eov. T. W. Humes, S. T. D . 
 
 IS. W. McDonnald, D.1).,LL.D 
 Eev. C. F. P. Bancroft, A. M 
 
 J.B.Greiner, A.M 
 
 Eev. P. M. Bartlett, A. M. 
 
 G. W. Jarman. A.M 
 
 Eov. J. Braden, A. M 
 
 E. K. Smith 
 
 A. K. Spenee, A. M. 
 
 A.J. Fanning 
 
 Gen. Gorgas 
 
 1857 
 1850 
 183: 
 1871 
 1843 
 
 Rev. J. J. Schorer, A. M. - 
 Brother Boniface, S. S. C . 
 J. E. C. Doremus, D. D . .. 
 
 G.n. Gould 
 
 W. C. Crane, D. D 
 
 -H 
 
 Prince Edward County, Va. 
 
 liichmond, Va 
 
 Salem, Va 
 
 Williamsburgh, Va 
 
 Lexington, Va 
 
 Norfolk, Va 
 
 Beth.any, W. Va 
 
 Morgantown. W. Va... 
 
 Wheeling, W. Va 
 
 Flemington, W. Va 
 
 Appleton, Wis 
 
 Beaver D.Tm, Wis 
 
 Beloit, Wig 
 
 G.ileavllle, Wis 
 
 J.ane8ville, AVis 
 
 Madison, Wis 
 
 18C1 
 
 1797 
 
 1831 
 1831 
 1625 
 1838 
 1782 
 
 1770 
 1844 
 
 I6:.;i 
 ico:i 
 
 1830 
 
 Rev. R. C. Burleson, D. D. 
 
 M.H.Buckham 
 
 Rev. H. D. Kitchel, D. D . 
 
 Rev. R. S. Howard, D. D . . 
 Rev. J. A. Duncan, A. M., 
 
 C. S. Ven.able, LL. D 
 
 Rev. E. E. Wiley, D. D... 
 Gen.G.W.C.Loe , 
 
 D.D. 
 
 1841 
 1808 
 18C5 
 
 1847 
 1854 
 1847 
 1839 
 
 St. Francis, Wis 
 
 Milton, Wis 
 
 Racine, Wis 
 
 Ripon, Wis 
 
 Prairie du Chicn, Wis 
 
 Watertown, Wis 
 
 Waukesha, Wis 
 
 Georgetown, D.O 
 
 "Washington, D. C 
 
 do 
 
 .... do 
 
 Santa F6, N. M 
 
 Salt Lake City, Utah Ter 
 Seattle, Wash. Ter 
 
 1848 
 
 1871 
 1844 
 185; 
 1803 
 1805 
 1804 
 1840 
 17U2 
 182; 
 1848 
 1807 
 1870 
 1808 
 
 laui 
 
 B. Puryear, A. M 
 
 II. I'urvear, A. M 
 
 l;.v. 1 1. F. Bittle, D.D. 
 
 l'..S. Kwell 
 
 Gen. F. H. Smith 
 
 W. K. Pendleton 
 
 Rev. A. Martin, D.D 
 
 Rev. A. Louage 
 
 Rev. W. Colegrove, A. M . 
 Rev. G. M. Steele, D. D . . 
 
 A. S. Hutchens 
 
 Rev. A. L. Chapin, D. D . . 
 Rev. H. Gilliland, A.M... 
 
 A. L. Reed 
 
 J. U. Twombly, D. D 
 
 Rev. J. Salzmann, D. D 
 
 Rev. W. C. Whitford, A. M . . . 
 
 Rev. J. Do Koven, D. U 
 
 Rev. W. E. Merriman, A. M. . 
 
 Brother Benedict 
 
 Rev. A. F. Ernest, A. M 
 
 Rev. W. D. F. Lummis A. M . 
 
 Rev. J. E.irly, S. J 
 
 J. C. Welling, LL.D 
 
 Rev. J. Clark 
 
 Gen. O. O. Howard. LL. D . . . . 
 
 Rev. D. F. McFarland 
 
 J.R.Park, M.D 
 
 J.H.HiUl 
 
STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 463 
 
 DEPAETMENTS XN THE UNITED STATES, &c.— Continnci 
 
 
 •1 
 
 C 
 
 a 
 P 
 
 a 
 
 a 
 
 s 
 5 
 
 Students. 
 
 Cost of— 
 
 1 
 
 a 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 "3 
 1 
 
 
 ■1 
 
 a 
 a 
 
 a 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 t 
 
 a 
 
 c 
 1 
 ■Ji 
 
 * 
 
 3 
 '5 
 
 .2 
 "5 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 0) 
 
 1 
 
 •a 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 § 
 
 1 
 
 a 
 
 u 
 
 1 
 
 Time of commencement 
 
 312 
 
 313 
 314 
 
 Pres ... 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 65 
 
 ... 
 
 65 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 M. E . . . 
 
 3 
 12 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 5 
 167 
 
 60 
 
 65 
 167 
 
 
 
 
 
 113 
 
 2f 
 
 15 
 
 9 
 
 4 
 
 
 aS30 
 
 S8 
 
 1,000 
 
 3(1 Wednesday in Jnne. 
 
 316 
 317 
 
 318 
 
 319 
 320 
 321 
 323 
 3-23 
 
 324 
 
 Pros 
 
 C.P.... 
 
 9 
 6 
 
 100 
 44 
 
 33 
 C 
 
 29 
 2 
 
 25 
 
 22 
 
 30 230 
 53 79 
 
 '26 
 
 239 
 105 
 
 O00-70 
 WOO 
 
 14-20 
 
 
 2d Thursday in June. 
 3d Tuesday in Jane. 
 
 
 
 
 Pres . . . 
 
 e 
 
 24 
 
 6 
 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 59 71 
 
 29 
 
 100 
 
 o20 
 
 8-12 
 
 2,000 
 
 Last Thursday in May. 
 
 stat«;;! 
 
 Cong .. 
 
 f 
 10 
 
 7 
 
 9 
 
 
 
 
 
 211 lis 
 239 271 
 
 105*220 
 
 o9 
 6150-175 
 
 10-12 
 
 450 
 10, 000 
 
 Mav 17 
 
 15 
 
 10 
 
 5 
 
 2 
 
 
 271 
 524 
 
 2d Tuesday in June. 
 
 
 .■i24 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 32C 
 
 P.E... 
 
 8 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 180 
 
 
 180 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Luth 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 :;:::::::...;::: 
 
 
 329 
 
 E.C.... 
 
 9 
 
 78 
 
 
 
 
 
 84 
 
 102 
 
 
 102 
 
 3-6 
 
 c30 
 
 500 
 
 Last Thursday in Jtmo. 
 
 
 
 
 
 831 
 
 
 7 
 6 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 173 
 113 
 
 i42 315 
 ... 113 
 
 Ol30 
 a30-00 
 
 
 
 September 4. 
 
 2d Wednesday in Jnne. 
 
 332 
 
 Bapt... 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 12-50 
 
 2,500 
 
 334 
 335 
 
 330 
 
 337 
 
 Bapt... 
 State . . 
 Cong . . 
 
 P.E... 
 
 M.E.S. 
 State.. . 
 M.E.S. 
 
 11 
 
 15 
 7 
 
 10 
 7 
 
 19 
 5 
 
 22 
 
 5 
 11 
 11 
 12 
 
 ... 
 '83 
 
 ii 
 
 14 
 12 
 
 '27 
 
 "7 
 10 
 
 24 
 '25 
 
 "w 
 
 18 
 
 30 
 
 ... 
 
 25 
 
 9 
 
 13 
 10 
 
 8 
 
 is 
 
 230 
 24 
 
 140 
 09 
 
 58 
 
 74 
 142 
 317 
 180 
 305 
 
 81 
 144 
 
 151 
 76 
 380 
 
 ios 
 
 245 
 
 09 
 
 58 
 
 74 
 142 
 317 
 160 
 305 
 
 81 
 144 
 151 
 
 70 
 330 
 
 15-25 
 a45 
 a45 
 
 6350 
 
 a40-75 
 
 70 
 
 aOO 
 
 aOO 
 
 o50 
 
 (t70 
 
 o50 
 
 50 
 
 Free . . 
 
 12-15 
 14-10 
 al42 
 
 ' 'is,' 600 
 
 11,000 
 
 4,000 
 10, 000 
 37, 000 
 13,580 
 
 6,000 
 
 3,500 
 
 '"6,'(i6o 
 
 5,000 
 
 Last Weclc in June. 
 1st Thursday in August. 
 Thursday "foJlowing 2d 
 
 Wednesday in August. 
 2d Thursday in July, 
 Last Thursday in -June. 
 Thursday before July 4. 
 1st Wodiiesday in -June. 
 4th Thursday m June. 
 
 2d Thursday in Jane. 
 July 1. 
 
 3d AVednesday in Juno. 
 3d Mouday in June. 
 July 4. 
 
 338 
 339 
 340 
 341 
 
 10-18 
 
 10-20 
 
 13 
 
 16 
 
 al60 
 
 10 
 
 al40-205 
 
 10 
 
 15 
 
 342 
 843 
 344 
 345 
 
 Pres . . . 
 Bapt . . 
 LiUU... 
 P.E ... 
 
 69 
 
 18 
 
 ii 
 
 16 
 i4 
 
 21 
 
 ... 
 10 
 
 10 
 "'7 
 
 16 
 "34 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 330 
 
 347 
 
 K.C 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 348 
 350 
 351 
 
 Chr.... 
 .State. . . 
 ILC... 
 
 9 
 13 
 
 10 
 
 9 
 5 
 9 
 5 
 1 
 
 '99 
 
 22 
 25 
 
 10 
 
 8 
 
 IJ 
 
 15 
 2 
 
 43 
 
 107 
 146 
 120 
 
 4t< 
 185 
 
 28 
 
 87 
 
 107 
 
 i20 
 
 70 
 
 272 
 
 o30 
 5-8 
 030 
 6-8 
 &-7 
 o25 
 030 
 021-30 
 
 20 
 16 
 
 0200 
 12 
 
 8-11 
 
 "'i,'56o 
 
 3,500 
 
 '"e.'ooo 
 
 3d Thursday in June. 
 3d Wednesday in June. 
 1st IXouday in September. 
 July 12 
 
 35-T 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 353 
 'til 
 
 lI.E... 
 Bapt . . . 
 Cong... 
 M.E... 
 
 57 
 
 29 
 
 24 
 
 11 
 
 13 
 
 138 
 
 Las't Thursday in June. 
 
 355 
 
 133 
 
 14 
 
 20 
 
 14 
 
 11 
 
 5 
 
 197 
 02 
 101 
 338 
 
 90 
 
 44 
 
 197 
 100 
 1ST 
 
 080-160 
 
 7,200 
 4,500 
 
 2d Wednesday in July. 
 
 357 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 358 
 359 
 
 State... 
 
 K.C.... 
 Baiit ... 
 P.E.... 
 
 27 
 
 5 
 7 
 IC 
 12 
 
 15 
 
 7 
 
 131 
 
 i63 
 131 
 54 
 
 7 
 
 32 
 13 
 6 
 
 5 
 
 26 
 
 21 
 
 5 
 
 10 
 
 io 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 C 
 
 7 
 7 
 
 303 
 
 124 402 
 .. 20 
 
 6 
 
 fll60 
 S-11 
 
 6400 
 8 
 
 16 
 
 12 
 
 5,000 
 
 7,200 
 1,310 
 
 Wednesday preceding laat 
 
 Tuesday in June. 
 July 1. 
 
 3C0 
 3U1 
 
 .... 141 
 
 9 185 
 
 244 174 
 
 96 
 
 i47 
 
 4 
 
 237 
 185 
 321 
 130 
 132 
 
 13 
 
 Last Wednesday in June. 
 2d Wednesday in July. 
 Last Wednesday in Juno. 
 
 302 
 
 10 
 
 "oiicCiso 
 
 1,500 
 
 ""i,'5u6 
 
 303 
 
 K.C.... 
 Lutli... 
 Pres . . . 
 
 
 130 
 
 128 
 
 ?(i4 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 July 4. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 300 
 307 
 
 308 
 
 P..C.... 
 Bapt . . . 
 R.C.... 
 
 16 
 9 
 
 8 
 
 139 
 70 
 
 30 
 13 
 
 15 
 
 8 
 
 11 
 
 8 
 
 11 
 10 
 
 
 212 
 I'JD 
 143 
 
 
 212 
 109 
 143 
 
 6325 
 oOO 
 o44 
 
 16 
 
 33, COO 
 
 8,000 
 
 400 
 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 Last Wednesday in June. 
 1st Monday in July. 
 
 V,'l 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ?7n 
 
 Pres . . . 
 L.D. S 
 
 4 
 
 13 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 34 
 
 n 
 
 51 
 
 580 
 193 
 
 40-60 
 
 060 
 
 14 
 
 o225 
 
 20-32 
 
 14 
 
 40 
 400 
 
 September IL 
 
 171 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 280 294 
 llOJ PR 
 
 17^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
4G4 
 
 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 
 
 STATISTICS OF TKEOLOGICAl 
 [Compiled from the most recent roporta seni 
 
 4 
 
 Name. 
 
 Location. 
 
 Denomination. 
 
 23 
 
 24 
 
 25 
 2G 
 
 27 
 28 
 29 
 
 30 
 31 
 32 
 33 
 34 
 35 
 3G 
 
 37 
 
 ab 
 
 39 
 40 
 41 
 42 
 43 
 44 
 45 
 4G 
 47 
 48 
 
 49 
 
 r>o 
 
 51 
 52 
 S3 
 54 
 
 Theological department of Howard CoHogo. 
 Ecclesiastical Seminary of Diocese of Mo- 
 bile. 
 
 Saint Ancnistinc College 
 
 TInM.lnL'iral Si-iiiiiKiry 
 
 Tat.' ilk- Thinluuical Seminary 
 
 Tlieulut^icul liihtituto of Connecticut 
 
 Theological department of Yale College.. 
 Berkeley Divinity School 
 
 Theological department of Mercer Uni- 
 versity. 
 St. Joseph's Ecclesiastical College 
 
 Theological Seminary of the Northwest. . . 
 
 Theological school of lilackburu Univer- 
 sity. 
 
 Gan'ott Biblical Institute 
 
 Chicago Theological Si_'Oiinary 
 
 Theological Si'ininary of the Northwest. . - 
 
 Baptist'Theologieal Scniiiiary 
 
 Bible department of Eureka College 
 
 Theological department of Shurtlctf Col- 
 lege. 
 
 Theological department of Augustana 
 College. 
 
 Theological School of Hartsville Univer- 
 sity. 
 
 Wart burg Seminary 
 
 Theological department of Griswold Col- 
 lege. 
 
 German Theological Seminary 
 
 Theological Department of Iowa Wes- 
 leyaii University. 
 
 Norwegian Theological Seminary 
 
 Theological department of Georgetown 
 College. 
 
 "Western Baptist Theological Institute . . . 
 
 St. Joseph's Ecclesiastical Seminary 
 
 College of the Bible, of Kentucky Univer- 
 sity. 
 
 Danville Theological Seminary 
 
 IMniisaii TIicii]n;xi'";il Si-ininary 
 
 Tlirnlo-i<';il.srl,u..I ..1" I'.rt licl Collcge 
 
 TliiiTiisiiu I'.ibiital Institute 
 
 11n■^l]u^i^■;ll Seminary 
 
 Tlifulogiriil Srniinary , 
 
 Tlu-dlugieal school of* Bates College 
 
 Theological Seminary of St. Sulpico 
 
 Theological department of Mt. St. Mary's 
 College. 
 
 Theological Seminary 
 
 Divinity school of Tufts College 
 
 Divinity .selionl of Harvard University.. 
 
 Boston TliroIoLiiical Si 'miliary 
 
 Anilovcr TlHitlo^ieal Sriniuary 
 
 Episropal T]i.olo-i<;il School , 
 
 Ni'wton 'riifolo;:i(al Institution 
 
 Nfw -Icnisalrm Tlu'ologital School 
 
 Theological department of Adrian College 
 
 Theological department of II illadalo Col- 
 lege. 
 
 Scandinavian Theological Seminary 
 
 (,'oneordia Seiuiuary 
 
 Vandcrnian Seho(»l of Theology 
 
 Thi'ological school of WrstniinsterCollego 
 
 St. VincL'Ut's Theological Seniiiiary 
 
 Theological Seminary of the Ilofonued 
 Church. 
 
 Marion. Ala 
 
 South Orange, Ala . 
 
 Benicia, Cal 
 
 San Francisco, Cal . . . 
 
 Oakland. Cal 
 
 Ilartford, Conn 
 
 New Uaveu, Conn 
 
 Middletown, Conn 
 
 Macon, Ga 
 
 Toutopolis, HI . 
 
 Monmouth, 111 . 
 Carlinvillo, 111 . 
 
 Evanston.ni 
 
 Chicago, 111 
 
 do 
 
 do 
 
 Eureka, Dl 
 
 Upper Alton, 111 . 
 
 Genesee, HI 
 
 nartsville, Ind. 
 
 St. Sebald.Iowa... 
 Davenport, Iowa.. 
 
 Dnbnque.Iowa 
 
 Mt. Pleasant, Iowa. . 
 
 Decorah, Iowa . . . 
 Georgetown, Ky . 
 
 do 
 
 Bardstown, Ky. 
 Lexington, Ky . 
 
 Danville. Ky 
 
 Shelby villo, Ky 
 
 Ilussellville, K!y 
 
 New Orleans, La 
 
 do 
 
 Bangor, Me 
 
 Lewiston, Me 
 
 Baltimore, Md 
 
 Near Emmittsburgh, 
 Md. 
 
 Woodstock. Md 
 
 College Dill. Mass... 
 
 Cambridge, Mass 
 
 Boston, Mass 
 
 Andover, Mass 
 
 Caiobriilge, Mass 
 
 Ken toll ( 'ciitre. Mass 
 
 Waltham, Mass 
 
 Adi iau, Mich 
 
 Hillsdale, Mich 
 
 Chicaso, Dl 
 
 St. Louis. Mo 
 
 Liberty, Mo 
 
 Fulton, Mo 
 
 Capo Girardeau, Mo- . 
 Now Brunswick, N. J 
 
 1841 
 
 lecs 
 
 1B71 
 
 18GG 
 1834 
 1823 
 1854 
 
 1833 
 
 1861 
 
 1839 
 1857 
 
 1854 
 1855 
 1650 
 ISGG 
 1852 
 1832 
 
 1857 
 1859 
 
 1858 
 
 1840 
 1820 
 18G5 
 
 1853 
 18G5 
 1858 
 18G5 
 
 1816 
 1830 
 
 1791 
 
 1800 
 
 lf-G8 
 1811 
 
 1847 
 1808 
 1807 
 1826 
 180G 
 
 Baptist 
 
 Eoman Catholic. 
 
 Protestant Episcopal. 
 
 Presbyterian 
 
 Congregational 
 
 do 
 
 do 
 
 Protestant Episcopal. 
 
 Baptist 
 
 Eoman Catholic. 
 
 United Presbyterian . , 
 Presbyterian , 
 
 Methodist Episcopal . . 
 
 Congregational 
 
 Presbyterian 
 
 Baptist 
 
 Christian 
 
 Baptist 
 
 Lutheran . 
 
 United Brethren.. 
 
 Lutheran 
 
 Protestant Episcopal. . 
 
 Presbyterian 
 
 Methodist Episcopal . 
 
 Lutheran. 
 Baptist . . . 
 
 do 
 
 Koman Catholic. 
 Christian 
 
 Presbyterian 
 
 Protestant Episcopal. . 
 
 Baptist 
 
 Methodist Episcopal 
 
 Koman Catholic 
 
 Congregational 
 
 Free Baptist 
 
 Koman Catholic. 
 , do 
 
 .... do 
 
 Universahst 
 
 No tests 
 
 Methodist Episcopal. 
 
 Congregational 
 
 Protestant Episcopal. 
 
 Baptist 
 
 Now Jerusalem Church 
 
 1840 
 18G8 
 
 Free Baptist.. 
 
 Lutheran . 
 
 do... 
 
 Baptist . . . 
 
 1844 
 1785 
 
 Koman Catholic.. 
 Kcformed 
 
STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 465 
 
 SEMETAKtES IX THE TJXITED STATES. 
 to tho TJnitetl States Bureau of Education.] 
 
 1 
 
 a 
 
 'A 
 
 PresiJeut or senior professor. 
 
 i 
 
 u. 
 
 ■3 
 
 6 
 
 to 
 
 6 
 "A 
 
 '5 
 .2 
 
 i 
 
 a 
 
 3 
 
 
 a 
 
 a 
 
 It 
 
 a 
 •a 
 
 = so 
 
 §•3 
 
 ll 
 
 Time of commencement. 
 
 1 
 
 Kev. S. E. Freeman, D. B 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 2,500 
 
 S105 
 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 Et. Eev. 'Wm. I. Kip, D. D 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 5 
 C 
 7 
 
 Rev. .lames A. Benton, D.D . .. 
 
 VTilliam Tbonipsoii, U. 1) 
 
 No.-ib Porter, D. T)., LL. D 
 
 Et. liev. .Toliu Williams, D. D., 
 LL. D. 
 
 2 
 3 
 
 7 
 10 
 
 7 
 
 53 
 38 
 
 290 
 805 
 149 
 
 $30,000 
 
 '303,' 666 
 
 40, 000 
 
 1,500 
 7,000 
 
 1,50 
 80 
 
 3d Thursday of An.iust. 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 3d Thursflay i'u M.iy. 
 
 
 
 
 9 
 
 
 
 
 10 
 11 
 
 la 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 lv» 
 
 Very Eev. V. Maurice Kloster- 
 
 nian, 0. S. F. 
 Rer. Alexaniler Yonncr, D. D... 
 Eev. John W. Bailey, 1). D 
 
 H. Bannister, D.D 
 
 Rev. S. C. Bartlett, D. D 
 
 7 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 G 
 
 IOC 
 
 15 
 20 
 
 90 
 55 
 
 527 
 208 
 
 250 
 125 
 171 
 
 n, 000 
 
 10, 000 
 
 ,300, 000 
 100, 000 
 100, 000 
 112, 000 
 
 700 
 
 2,030 
 700 
 
 3,300 
 
 3, 700 
 8,000 
 10, 000 
 
 ISO 
 150-175 
 
 ito 
 
 150 
 
 150 
 
 125-150 
 
 150 
 
 Last Thursday in March, 
 
 Last Thursday in Jnnc. 
 Last Thursday in ApriL 
 1st Thursday iu April. 
 
 
 
 
 
 17 
 
 
 
 
 
 2d Thursday in June. 
 Do. 
 
 18 
 
 Rev .T Bulklev D D 
 
 3 
 2 
 1 
 
 
 
 65, 000 
 
 
 150 
 
 '\'\ 
 
 
 18 
 7 
 
 
 
 20 
 
 Eev. J. Woodbury Scribuer, A. 
 M. 
 
 
 
 
 93-150 
 
 230 
 
 150 
 
 2d Tuesday in June. 
 
 21 
 
 07 
 15 
 
 73 
 
 3,400 
 40,000 
 
 10, 000 
 
 1,045 
 5,000 
 
 5,000 
 
 1^ 
 
 Rt. Eev. Henry W. Lee, D. D., 
 
 LL. D. 
 Eev. J. Conzet 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 7 
 
 10 
 
 3d week in June. 
 June lat. 
 
 n\ 
 
 Jobn Wheeler D D 
 
 
 "i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 "(5 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 200-250 
 
 2d Thursday in June. 
 
 07 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 S3 
 "1 
 
 Eev P tie Fraino 
 
 7 
 2 
 
 08 
 122 
 
 
 
 3,000 
 
 1.50 
 125 
 
 Last Tuesday in June, 
 
 Eev. Robert ililli-^an 
 
 110 
 194 
 
 
 2d Friday in' June. 
 
 in 
 
 
 218,000 
 
 8,000 
 
 11 
 
 
 
 
 2d Thiu-sday in June. 
 
 "V 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 31 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 11 
 
 
 2 
 4 
 4 
 
 6 
 3 
 
 7 
 3 
 5 
 14 
 U 
 
 30 
 24 
 21 
 
 70 
 29 
 
 75 
 20 
 37 
 90 
 
 es 
 11 
 
 50 
 
 B 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 3.-. 
 
 3fi 
 
 Eev. Enoch Pond, D. D 
 
 Eev. Oren B. Cheney, D. D 
 
 040 
 
 120, 000 
 
 13, 000 
 2,000 
 
 150 
 
 1st Thursday iu June. 
 Tuesday before the last 
 
 "Wednesday in June. 
 July 1st. 
 3d Monday in Juno. 
 
 37 
 
 
 
 33 
 V) 
 
 Very Eev. Jno. McCaffrey, D. D 
 
 320 
 
 
 15, 000 
 
 150 
 
 ■tn 
 
 Rev. Alonzo A. Miner. D. D 
 
 Cliarle.s W. Eliot, LL. D 
 
 Eev. William F. Warren. D. D. . 
 Eev. Echvarils A. Park. D.D. ... 
 
 Eev. Jobn S. Stone, D. D 
 
 Eev. A Ivah Ilovcy, D. D 
 
 Eev. Thomas Worcester 
 
 Eev. A. Maban, D. D 
 
 
 
 12, 000 
 
 10, 000 
 
 4,000 
 
 30, 000 
 
 '"i,'266 
 
 500 
 
 250 
 300 
 140 
 150 
 350 
 200 
 175 
 
 
 41 
 
 4J 
 43 
 44 
 45 
 
 4li 
 47 
 
 432 
 
 0(35 
 
 2,000 
 
 "536' 
 9 
 
 240,000 
 230, 000 
 
 125,066 
 
 335,000 
 
 37,000 
 
 Last Tuesday in June. 
 2d Wednesday in June. 
 1st Thursday in August. 
 1st Wedues('lay in -July. 
 2d Wednesday in June. 
 Not iiied. 
 
 4^ 
 
 Eev. James Calder, D. D 
 
 
 32 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 40 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 '.0 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 5,000 
 3,000 
 
 3i6 
 
 1st September. 
 
 Ist Wednesday iu June. 
 
 51 
 
 Eev. T. Ramliaiit. D. D 
 
 52 
 C 
 
 
 00,666 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 54 
 
 
 
 22 
 
 770 
 
 173,666 
 
 16,000 
 
 300 
 
 September 20. 
 
 28* 
 
466 KEPORT OP THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 
 
 STATISTICS OP TnEOXOGICAL SEM 
 
 ITame. 
 
 Location. 
 
 Denomination. 
 
 55 
 56 
 57 
 
 58 
 59 
 
 60 
 61 
 Gii 
 
 03 
 
 64 
 65 
 66 
 67 
 68 
 
 69 
 70 
 71 
 
 72 
 
 73 
 
 74 
 
 89 
 90 
 91 
 92 
 
 03 
 
 94 
 
 95 
 90 
 97 
 98 
 99 
 l:0 
 101 
 102 
 103 
 
 lOG 
 107 
 
 Tlieolo0cal Seminary 
 
 Drew Tlieolo^cal Seminary . . . 
 Auburn Tlieological Seminary. 
 
 Kochester TIieoIop:ical Seminary. 
 Union Tlieological Seminary 
 
 Princeton, N.J. 
 Madison, N. J . . 
 Auburn, N. Y . . 
 
 Hartwicli Theological Seminary 
 
 Theological seminary of MadisonUniversity 
 
 Theological school of St. Lawrence Uni- 
 versity. 
 
 Martin Luther (theological) College 
 
 Xowburgh Theological Seminary 
 
 St. Joseph's P^o^'incial Seminary 
 
 Theological Seminary 
 
 Do Lancy Divinity School 
 
 Theological Seminary of Our Lady of 
 Angels. 
 
 Theological school of Trinity College 
 
 Biblical department of Baldwin University 
 
 Theological Seminary 
 
 Itochester, N. T 
 
 Now York City, M'.T. 
 
 nartwick, K. Y . 
 Hamilton, N. Y . 
 Canton, N. Y 
 
 Theological school of Ohio 'Wesleyan Uni- 
 versity. 
 
 Theological department of "Wilberforce 
 University. 
 
 Theological'departmentofOberliuCoUego. 
 
 Ucidelberg Theological Seminary 
 
 Theological seminary of St. Charles Dor- 
 romoo. 
 
 Wittenberg College 
 
 Mount Saint Mary's of the 'West 
 
 Lane Theological Seminary 
 
 Theological department of Capital Univer- 
 sity. 
 
 Theological Seminary 
 
 St. Mary's Ecclesiastical Seminary 
 
 Crozer Theological Seminary 
 
 Meadvillc Theological School 
 
 Theological Semiiiary 
 
 Divinity School 
 
 Lutheran Theological Seminary . 
 Mission.ary Institute 
 
 "Western Theolo.gicaft Seminary 
 
 Thc(il(>L:ieal Seminary 
 
 r.ilrlical department of Allegheny College 
 
 Tlitulo;iical department of "Lincoln Uni- 
 versity. 
 
 Chair of Biblical language and literature, 
 Dickinson College. 
 
 Theological Seminary 
 
 St. Michael's Theological Seminary 
 
 "rheolouical .'>emiuary 
 
 Protestant Episcopal Mission House 
 
 St. Cluuhs Borrumeo Seminary 
 
 Theological Seminary of Ursinus College. 
 
 "Theological Seminary 
 
 Theological Seminary 
 
 Southern Baptist Theological Seminary . 
 
 "Theological department "of Cumberland 
 University. 
 
 Theologic.ir department of Central Uni- 
 versity. 
 
 Theological department of Baylor Uni- 
 versity. 
 
 Colver Institute 
 
 Union Theological Seminary 
 
 Buiralo,N.T 
 
 Ncwburgh, N. Y 
 
 Troy.N.Y 
 
 New York City, N. Y. . 
 
 Geneva, N. Y 
 
 SuspensionEridgo.N.Y 
 
 Trinity College, N. C . 
 
 Berea.'Ohio 
 
 Gambler, Ohio 
 
 Delaware, Ohio . . . 
 Near Senla, Ohio . 
 
 Obrrlin, Ohio 
 
 Tiffin, Ohio 
 
 Carthagena, Ohio. 
 
 Springfield, Ohio . 
 Cincinnati, Ohio. . 
 
 do 
 
 Columbus, Ohio . 
 
 Xenia, Ohio 
 
 Cleveland, Ohio 
 
 Upland, Pa 
 
 Meadville, Pa 
 
 Lancaster, Pa 
 
 Philadelphia, Pa . . . 
 
 do 
 
 Sclin'a Grove, Pa. 
 
 Allegheny City, Pa . . - 
 
 do 
 
 Meadville, Pa 
 
 Oxford, Pa 
 
 Carlisle, Pa ... - 
 Bethlehem, Pa . 
 
 Pittsburgh, Pa 
 
 Cettv.-i'.nii'xh, Pa 
 
 West Philadelphia, Pa, 
 
 l'liil;;di-lpliia, Pa 
 
 prceland. Pa 
 
 Columbia, S.C 
 
 do 
 
 Greenville, S. C 
 
 Lebanon, Tcun 
 
 1810 
 1807 
 1821 
 
 1630 
 183G 
 
 1810 
 1820 
 
 1858 
 
 1834 
 1803 
 18G4 
 1817 
 1801 
 1850 
 
 Pres'byterian 
 
 Methodist Episcopal. 
 Presbyterian 
 
 Baptist 
 
 Presbyterian 
 
 Lutheran 
 
 Baptist 
 
 Univorsalist 
 
 Lutheran 
 
 United Presbyterian. 
 
 Poman Catholic 
 
 Protestant Episcopal. 
 
 do 
 
 Poman Catholic 
 
 182S 
 
 1835 
 
 leso 
 
 1SG9 
 
 1843 
 1849 
 
 1794 
 
 iics' 
 
 1844 
 1825 
 1802 
 
 1804 
 
 1858 
 
 1823 
 
 1803 
 
 Nashville, Tonn 
 
 Independence, Tex . . . 
 
 Kichmond, "Va 
 
 llampdeu Sidney, "Va. . 
 
 1807 
 
 1847 
 1825 
 1804 
 1858 
 1870 
 1831 
 1839 
 18.39 
 1842 
 
 1800 
 
 1804 
 
 1S07 
 1824 
 
 Methodist Episcopal.. 
 do 
 
 Protestant Episcopal . 
 
 Methodist Episcopal-. 
 
 African Methodist 
 Episcopal. 
 
 Congri!gational 
 
 Pcl'crmed 
 
 Poman Catholic 
 
 Lutheran 
 
 llomau Catholic. 
 
 Presbyterian 
 Luthe'rau 
 
 United P^csb^'torian. 
 
 Komaii Catholic 
 
 B.aptist 
 
 Unitarian 
 
 Peformcd 
 
 Protestant Episcopal. 
 
 Lutheran 
 
 .do. 
 
 Presbyterian 
 
 United Presbyterian . 
 
 Presbyterian 
 
 Methodist Episcopal. 
 Moravian 
 
 Roman Catholic 
 
 Lutheran 
 
 Protestant Episcopal. 
 Koman CathoUc 
 
 Presbyterian- 
 Lutheran 
 
 Baptist 
 
 Presbyterian. 
 
 Methodist Episcopal . 
 Baptist 
 
 do 
 
 Presbyterian. 
 
STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 DTAT-IES IN THE tTNITED STATES— Continued. 
 
 4G7 
 
 o 
 
 a 
 
 Presklcnt or senior professor. 
 
 o 
 
 o 
 
 a 
 
 M 
 
 a 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 rs 
 V 
 
 a 
 
 B| 
 
 S 
 o 
 
 -a 
 
 g 
 
 a 
 o 
 
 4 
 
 a 
 
 CI 
 
 a 
 
 3 . 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 |2i 
 
 og 
 rt 3 
 
 p-3 
 
 * rt 
 
 .11 
 
 Time of commencemcnti 
 
 35 
 
 Kov.Cl:ui-!csUocl-e, D.D., LL.D 
 E:in(li-li)li S. Fester, D.D., LL.D 
 
 c 
 
 5 
 5 
 
 5 
 G 
 
 1 
 4 
 3 
 
 5 
 o 
 
 7 
 6 
 5 
 4 
 
 1 
 
 152 
 97 
 40 
 
 2, 527 
 1S9 
 
 $5S0, 000 
 500, 000 
 
 21, 804 
 10, 000 
 8,500 
 
 8, COO 
 30, 000 
 
 2,000 
 10, 000 
 6,000 
 
 $173 
 150 
 250 
 
 175 
 
 250 
 
 175 
 200 
 240 
 
 Last Wednesday in ApriL 
 
 3d Thursday in May. 
 
 Thursday ai'ter 1st tiunday 
 in May. 
 
 3d week in May. 
 
 Monday before 2d Thurs- 
 day in May. 
 
 4th Wednesday in June. 
 
 3d Tuesday in June. 
 
 1st Thursday in July, 
 
 53 
 5D 
 
 rn 
 
 Eov. E. G. Koljinson, D.D 
 
 Ecv. llenrv B. Smith, D. D., 
 
 LL. U. " 
 Ecv. T T. Titus, A. M 
 
 71 
 
 117 
 
 476 
 935 
 
 100 
 
 2G7, 000 
 375,000 
 
 15, 000 
 
 leo, coo 
 
 00, 000 
 
 
 Ecv. Geo. W.Eaton, D.D., LL.D 
 Ecv. Eljenezer Fisher, D. D ... 
 
 22 
 27 
 
 12 
 '12 
 190 
 
 800 
 143 
 
 Hi 
 
 A bo.ird of Rupcrintcndents . . . 
 Ycry Ecv. 11. Gabriels 
 
 2C0 
 
 30,000 
 
 3,400 
 
 ICO 
 
 225 
 
 400-500 
 
 Last Wednesday in March. 
 Last Thursday in Jtme. 
 
 cr. 
 
 
 812 
 
 200,000 
 20, 000 
 
 13, 845 
 
 (17 
 
 Eov. James Eanldne, D. D 
 
 Very Eov. Evobert E. V.Eico.. 
 
 Eov. B. Craven, D. D 
 
 
 cs 
 
 CO 
 
 70 
 
 50 
 
 28 
 
 150 
 20 
 
 
 3,500 
 400 
 
 302 
 125 
 
 Last Wednesday in June. 
 Last Thnrsday in June. 
 
 71 
 78 
 
 Et. Eev. C. P. McUvaiuo, D.D., 
 
 D. C. L., LL. D. 
 Eov. FreLlericli Morrick 
 
 Et. Eev. Daniel A. Payne, D. D. 
 
 Eev. James H. Faircliild, D. D. 
 Ecv. J. II. Good D. D 
 
 4 
 3 
 
 o 
 
 5 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 3 
 
 5 
 
 15 
 
 161 
 
 100, 000 
 
 7,000 
 
 300 
 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 
 7n 
 
 IS 
 
 47 
 18 
 27 
 
 6 
 33 
 
 40 
 
 4 
 
 2S8 
 130 
 
 
 
 150 
 
 130-225 
 
 175 
 
 Free.. 
 
 150 
 225 
 
 150 
 
 Third Wednesday in June. 
 1st Wednesday in August 
 
 74 
 
 60, 000 
 21, 000 
 
 10, 000 
 2,400 
 3,500 
 
 7(i 
 
 Eev. Henry Drees, U. D 
 
 Rev. S. Sprecber, D. D 
 
 4th week in June. 
 
 77 
 
 109 
 533 
 
 
 June 30. 
 
 73 
 79 
 
 Ecv. F.J. Pabisch,D.D.,LL.D., 
 
 D. C.L. 
 Eov. Henry Smith, D. D 
 
 160,000 
 200, 000 
 
 10, 000 
 12,000 
 
 June 24. 
 
 2d Thnrsday in May. 
 
 Pt 
 
 Eev. S. Wilson, D. D 
 
 3 
 
 15 
 
 37G 
 
 50, COO 
 
 2,000 
 
 100-150 
 
 1st Thursday in October. 
 
 R 
 
 
 r:i 
 
 Eov. Henrv G. Weston, D. D . . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1^4 
 
 
 G 
 3 
 5 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 7 
 
 21 
 20 
 45 
 
 38 
 
 17 
 
 75 
 
 ICG 
 270 
 133 
 
 52 
 
 52 
 
 1,005 
 
 140, 003 
 CO, 000 
 
 88,000 
 184,000 
 
 11, 000 
 8,000 
 6,100 
 
 1,800 
 
 2,000 
 
 225 
 
 200 
 
 250-300 
 
 340 
 300 
 
 3d Thnrsday in June. 
 
 Last Wednesday in May. 
 
 Thursday after 3d Tues- 
 day in '.June. 
 
 Week before Trinity Sun- 
 day. 
 
 Week before Trinity Sun- 
 day. 
 
 Last Wednesday in April 
 
 65 
 
 £C 
 
 87 
 
 P8 
 
 Ecv. E. Y. Gerbart, D. D 
 
 Ecv.D.E.Goodwin. D. D.,LL.D 
 
 Eov. Charles F. Schaeffer, D. D. 
 
 H. Zeiglcr 
 
 89 
 
 Eev. M.W. Jacobus, D.D.,LL.D 
 
 91 
 qo 
 
 Eev. Gcorpe Loomis, D. D 
 
 Ecv.LN.llcn4ill,D.D 
 
 Eev. Eobert L. Dasbicll, D. D . . 
 
 Sebweinitz, D.D. 
 
 Eov.S.Wall 
 
 Eev. J. A. Drown, D. D 
 
 Eov. Washington Eodman 
 
 5 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 5 
 3 
 
 "g 
 
 11 
 
 20 
 
 60 
 
 28 
 9 
 
 
 
 
 gs^iis 
 
 3d Wednesday in June. 
 
 O-l 
 
 
 
 
 91 
 
 95 
 9G 
 97 
 
 233 
 
 130 
 
 4-:g 
 
 30 
 
 42, 000 
 
 'i66,"666 
 
 4,100 
 
 4,000 
 
 12,000 
 
 COO 
 
 10, 000 
 
 300 
 
 200 
 130 
 300 
 300 
 300 
 150 
 150 
 110 
 100 
 
 100 
 
 100 
 
 60 
 350-300 
 
 1st Wednesd.iy in Sept. 
 
 Last of June. 
 
 4tb Thursday in June. 
 
 3d Thursday in Sept ember, 
 
 1st Monday in September. 
 
 Last Thursday in Juno. 
 
 2d week in May. 
 
 1st Thursday iii October. 
 
 Last Saturday in ApriL 
 
 1st Thursd.ay in June. 
 
 3d week in May. 
 
 3d Thursday in June. 
 
 ni 
 
 Eov. J. H. A. Eombergcr 
 
 Eev. George Howe, D. D 
 
 Ecv. A. E. Elide 
 
 3 
 
 7 
 
 5 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 o 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 100 
 101 
 
 41 
 
 374 
 
 145, 715 
 29, 000 
 50, COO 
 35, 000 
 
 is, 340 
 4,000 
 
 10, 000 
 5,000 
 
 400 
 
 400 
 
 1,000 
 8,000 
 
 lOSi 
 103 
 
 104 
 
 Ecv. James P. Eovce, D. D 
 
 Eev. B. W. lleDonnold, D.D., 
 
 LL.D. 
 Eov. J. Braden, A. M 
 
 51 
 
 8 
 
 G 
 21 
 71 
 
 185 
 40 
 
 lori 
 
 Eev. Wm. Carey Crane, D. D. . 
 
 Eov. Charles H. Corey, A. M. . . 
 Kev. E. L. Dabney, D. D 
 
 
 
 loi; 
 
 
 
 107 
 
 59 
 
 400 
 
 196,666 
 
 3d Tuesday in May. 
 
468 EEPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 
 
 STATISTICS OF THEOLOGICAX SEM 
 
 Name. 
 
 Location. 
 
 Denomination. 
 
 103 
 109 
 110 
 111 
 11-2 
 113 
 114 
 115 
 116 
 
 117 
 
 Theological Seminary 
 
 St. Jolin's Theological Seminary 
 
 New Hampton Theological Seminary 
 
 St. Vincent's College 
 
 Nashotah Theological Seminary 
 
 Mission House 
 
 The Salesianum 
 
 Augsburg Seminary 
 
 Theological department of Howard Uni- 
 versity. 
 Way lanil Theological Seminary 
 
 Fairfax County, Va . . . 
 
 Norfolk, Va , 
 
 Fairfax, Va 
 
 Wheeling, W. Va 
 
 Nashotah Lakes, Wis 
 Howard's Grove, Wis. 
 St. Fiancis.Wis. ..'.... 
 
 -Marshall, Wis 
 
 Washington, D. C 
 
 .do. 
 
 1823 
 1609 
 1825 
 I £05 
 1847 
 18C4 
 1850 
 18C9 
 18T0 
 
 18C5 
 
 Protestant Episcopal 
 
 Koman Catholic 
 
 Baptist 
 
 Koman Catholic 
 
 Protestant Episcopal 
 
 KefornuMl 
 
 Koman Catholic 
 
 Lutheran 
 
 Union Evangelical... 
 
 Baptist 
 
STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 rNAEIES n; the TTNITED states— Continnea. 
 
 469 
 
 President or senior professor. 
 
 SI 
 
 o s 
 
 =1 
 
 SB 
 
 HP, 
 
 Time of commencoment* 
 
 108 
 109 
 110 
 111 
 119 
 113 
 114 
 IIS 
 116 
 
 117 
 
 Et. Eev. John Johns,D.D., LL. D 
 Eev. M. O'Keefe 
 
 Rev. A. Lonaze 
 
 Eev.A.D.CoIo,D.D 
 
 Eev. H. A. Mnehlmeyer 
 
 Eev. Joseph Salzmann, D. D . . . 
 
 Eev. A. Weeuaag, A. il 
 
 Gen. 0. 0. Howard -..:-.■. 
 
 Eev. G. M. P. King .-s.t. si»-. . . 
 
 599 
 3 
 
 9,500 
 3,000 
 
 S200 
 150-250 
 
 56 
 216 
 
 35 
 
 416 
 
 6 
 
 $100 
 
 1,500 
 5,000 
 1,400 
 7,900 
 1,000 
 
 45 
 
 250 
 
 50 
 
 150-180 
 
 100 
 
 150 
 
 'J5 
 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 Second Thorsday in July. 
 
 Jane 99. 
 
 First Monday in Sept. 
 
 Julyl. 
 
 Last Tuesday in June. 
 
 Last Wednesday in May. 
 

 
 IS 
 
 3 
 
 ^_JC^^ SrUlML ^ AtTlimb ■ 1i'^* ^^^iT ^ 
 
STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 SCHOOLS EJ THE XTSTIED SPATES. 
 
 471 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 il 
 
 ^1 
 
 President or senior professor. 
 
 ■5 j 
 11 
 
 CM 
 
 . 
 
 - t- 
 
 III 
 
 Time of commencement. 
 
 1 
 2 
 3 
 
 4 
 S 
 A 
 
 1W3 
 1S67 
 1S39 
 1S«0 
 1S43 
 1S70 
 
 """is65 
 
 isn 
 
 1S83 
 1546 
 1S17 
 1S54 
 1S9 
 1SS7 
 1S51 
 
 "iS59' 
 1833 
 
 1S36 
 
 Xoah Porter. D. D., LL. D 
 
 A. A. IJpscomb, D. D 
 
 J. C. Biu-rouchs, D. D.. LL. D . . 
 
 Henrv H.nomer.A.iI 
 
 D-lTiii McDonald, LL. D 
 
 Horatii> C. Xewcomb, LL. D. . . 
 Eev. W. Corliv, S. S. C 
 
 4 
 3 
 
 4 
 1 
 2 
 2 
 6 
 3 
 4 
 3 
 4 
 7 
 2 
 4 
 9 
 3 
 4 
 6 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 23 
 19 
 52 
 5 
 S3 
 11 
 
 "201' 
 
 23 
 
 !S9 
 
 2,150 
 731 
 
 "■■'sso' 
 
 1,099 
 
 Last Thursday but two in Jnly. 
 August 2d. 
 
 Last Thursday in June. 
 First Thursday in June. 
 
 27thdayofiIarch. 
 
 
 
 
 B 
 
 
 SO 
 
 "23" 
 54 
 154 
 7 
 321 
 53 
 86 
 
 91 
 12 
 
 "'853' 
 1,639 
 
 1,030" 
 33 
 
 2,000 
 
 "i.coo" 
 
 3,0:0 
 15,000 
 500 
 3,100 
 2,000 
 
 Last Thursday in Juno. 
 June 18. 
 
 9 
 
 in 
 
 John'Wtcclcr.D.D 
 
 u 
 
 12 
 13 
 14 
 13 
 1A 
 
 Chrislian Eoscliu."!. LL. D 
 
 Charles 1^-. EUot, LL. D 
 
 John X.WaJdcLD.D 
 
 James B. Angell, LL.D 
 
 Henry Hitchcock, A. M 
 
 First Monday in April 
 Last "Wednesday in June> 
 
 Second Monday in May. 
 
 17 
 
 Henrr E. Daries, LL. D 
 
 F. A. P. Bamarti, D. D., LL. D . 
 & G. Brown, D. D., LL. D 
 
 KichmondFisk,jr.,D.D 
 
 E-Craven D.D 
 
 
 
 
 18 
 19 
 
 ao 
 
 91 
 
 59 
 14 
 
 11 
 
 690 
 63 
 
 15 
 
 "5,066' 
 600 
 
 Thursday ailer last Tuesday 
 in June. 
 
 ?» 
 
 1532 
 1556 
 1559 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 "? 
 
 John Croivell. LL. D 
 
 ? 
 
 2 
 3 
 9 
 1 
 1 
 3 
 2 
 4 
 2 
 2 
 2 
 6 
 5 
 3 
 3 
 3 
 
 S8 
 
 
 2,500 
 
 
 °A 
 
 ■R F Hntrnr.1 A. ^r B. T. 
 
 
 ?T 
 
 1550 ; T^ Sn^ncpr Arillpr 4. "ST . ,.. 
 
 es 
 
 
 
 
 "6 
 
 1571 
 1534 
 
 
 
 
 
 07 
 
 L X."Ean.lall D. D 
 
 3 
 12 
 3 
 
 
 
 
 S»' 
 
 .TaiTiM TT. arnhrim T.T,_ T> 
 
 
 
 First Thursday in SeptemDcr, 
 
 ">» 
 
 1S4T I K. ■VT. Bamwcll, LL. D 
 
 1 Nathaniel EaxtCT, LL. D 
 
 1542 B. ■«". ircDonnoId, D. D 
 
 1543 ■Willi.ir.i Tawv Cranp T). n_ .. 
 
 
 
 Tl 
 
 
 
 ' 
 
 :<l 
 
 86 
 10 
 13 
 31 
 
 117 
 23 
 
 167 
 53 
 25 
 87 
 
 
 
 
 JR 
 
 
 
 First "Wednesday in June. 
 First "Wednesday in July. 
 
 rt 
 
 ISTO 
 
 1565 
 1556 
 1565 
 1570 
 1S70 
 
 B. Purrear. Al M 
 
 8 
 
 
 S4 
 
 J. W. Brockenbronch, LL. D - 
 John B. Minor LLTD . . 
 
 It 
 
 
 
 Thursday before 4th of July. 
 
 3fi 
 
 
 
 
 TT 
 
 J. C. ^ellinf LL. D .. 
 
 
 
 
 38 
 
 John M. Lansston. A. M 
 
 Eev. .John Earlv. S. ./ . 
 
 13 
 
 
 
 40 
 
 "W.B. Wedgwood, LL.D 
 
 
 
 Laat Thursday in May. 
 
 
 
 
472 EEPOKT OP THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 
 
 STATISTICS OF MEDICAL, DENTAL, AND 
 
 Uamo. 
 
 Location. 
 
 10 
 H 
 
 12 
 ];) 
 
 14 
 15 
 
 in 
 
 17 
 
 18 
 VJ 
 20 
 21 
 2S 
 23 
 24 
 25 
 2G 
 27 
 28 
 29 
 30 
 31 
 32 
 33 
 34 
 35 
 3G 
 
 37 
 38 
 
 39 
 40 
 41 
 42 
 43 
 44 
 45 
 4G 
 47 
 43 
 43 
 50 
 
 I. 5IEDICAL AKD SURGICAL. 
 
 1. " Jieijular.'* 
 
 Mcdicnl College of Alab.ama 
 
 Toland Medical College 
 
 Medical departmeut of University of the Paciiic 
 
 Medical depart iinnf of Yale College 
 
 Medi.alCdllcciei.f Cc.irsiia 
 
 Sav.aiiiiali Mi diral College 
 
 Atlauta Jlcilical College 
 
 Ullsl, Medi. al Coll.-.' 
 
 Chicago Jlccliial Cnlligo, (medical department of 
 
 tlKiNorthwcstciii Uiiiwrsity.) 
 
 ■Woman's Hospital ^Irdical College * 
 
 Indiana Medical C"lligc, (medical department of 
 
 the State University.) 
 
 College of Phyniciaiia and Surgeons 
 
 Medical depaitnicnt of Iowa State University 
 
 Medical department (it the University of Louisville 
 
 Louisvilln Medical College 
 
 Medical department of the (Jnivcrsity of Louisiana. . 
 Medical S. hrpid of Maine, (medical departjuont of 
 
 Eowdnin Cidli-ge.) 
 
 Medical department of Washington Univer.sity 
 
 School of medicine of the University of Maryland .. 
 
 Medical scliool of Harvard Uinvcrsity 
 
 New England Fiiuale Medical College* 
 
 Medical department of Michigan Univei'sityt 
 
 Detroit Meilical Cidlcgo 
 
 Missouri MeiU'alC.iUcgo 
 
 St. Louis Medical Cidlcgo 
 
 Medical Ciillcge id Kansas City 
 
 Kansas City College of Physicians and Surgeons . . . 
 
 Medical department of Dartmouth College 
 
 College of Physicians and Surgeons 
 
 Albany Medic.al Collce 
 
 Mcuicld d:p..vtineu^ of iho University of New York 
 ■Woman's Medical CoUegeof the New "York Infirmary* 
 
 Medical department of (ho University of Buffalo 
 
 Long Island C.dlege llospit.ol 
 
 Bellovne Ilosjotal Medical College 
 
 Geneva Medical College, (medical department of 
 
 Hobart College.) 
 
 Medical College of Ohio 
 
 Cleveland Medical t.'ollege, (medical department of 
 
 University ef Wnoster.) 
 
 St.arling Medical Coll. go 
 
 Cinciniiati College of Medicine and Surgery 
 
 Miaiai Medical (JoUcge 
 
 iSledical department of Willamette University 
 
 ;Me<lical departmeut of University of Pennsylvania. . 
 
 Jefferson Medical (.'ollege 
 
 Woman's Medical Co. lego of Pennsylvania'' 
 
 Medical department of Lincoln Univer.sity 
 
 Medical Cfdli-ge (.f the State of S.iulh Carolina: ■-■■ 
 Medical department of University (tf Soul li Carolina 
 Medical dcp.n tiiient of the University of Nashville 
 Memphis Mrdii.il Cidlege, (medical department of 
 Cumberland I'niyersity.) § 
 
 Galveston Medical CollcTO 
 
 Medical department of "Vermont University 
 
 Medical department of the University of Virginia.. 
 
 Medical College of Virgini.a 
 
 Medical department of Georgetown College 
 
 N.itional Medical College, (medical department of 
 
 Columbian College.) 
 Medical department of Howard University t 
 
 Mobile, Ala 
 
 San Francisco, Cal. 
 
 do 
 
 New U.avcn, Conn . 
 
 Augusta, Ga 
 
 Savannah, Ga 
 
 Atlanta, Ga 
 
 Chicago, 111 
 
 do 
 
 do 
 
 Indianapolis, Ind . 
 
 Keoknlv, Iowa ... 
 Iowa City, Iowa . 
 
 Louisville, Ky 
 
 do ..... .. 
 
 Kcw Orleans, La. 
 Brunswick, Me... 
 
 1856 
 18n4 
 1859 
 1813 
 1833 
 1830 
 1835 
 1842 
 1839 
 
 1870 
 ItiiJO 
 
 lS-19 
 1870 
 1837 
 
 Baltimore, Md 
 
 do 
 
 Boston, Mass 
 
 do 
 
 Ann Arbor, Mich 
 
 Detroit, Mich 
 
 St. Louis, Mo 
 
 do 
 
 Kansas City, Mo 
 
 Hanover. N. H 
 
 New York City, N.Y... 
 
 Albany, N. Y 
 
 Now "i'ork City, ]Sr. Y... 
 
 do 
 
 Buffalo, N. Y 
 
 Brooklyn, N. Y 
 
 Now "^ork City, N. Y . . . 
 Geneva, N. Y 
 
 Cincinnati, Ohio 
 
 Cleveland, Ohio 
 
 Columbus, Ohio 
 
 (Cincinnati, Ohio 
 
 do 
 
 Salem, Oreg 
 
 Philadelphia, Pa 
 
 do 
 
 do 
 
 Oxford, Pa 
 
 Cliarlcston, S. C 
 
 Columbi.a, S. C 
 
 Nashville, Tenn 
 
 Memphis, Tenn 
 
 Galveston, Tex 
 
 Burliugton. Vt 
 
 Cliarlottisvmo,Va.... 
 
 Kichmond, Ya 
 
 Washington, D. C 
 
 do 
 
 .do. 
 
 18.'iC 
 18;;0 
 
 1807 
 lf07 
 1783 
 1843 
 1850 
 1868 
 18-10 
 1843 
 1870 
 1808 
 1796 
 1807 
 1838 
 1841 
 1865 
 1816 
 ■1600 
 1801 
 1834 
 
 1819 
 1813 
 
 1847 
 1831 
 1852 
 
 1763 
 1826 
 1850 
 
 1850 
 1847 
 
 1868 
 
 1838 
 1850 
 1821 
 
 1867 
 
 * For female students only. 
 
 tCoUege not yet opened, (November 10, 1871,) on aooonnt of prevailing yoUow fever and the snspen- 
 
 l After the war, reorganized in 1868 ; in 1871 becamo medical department of Cumberland University, 
 
STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 473 
 
 PRiP-MACEUTICAL INSTITUTIONS IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 President or dean. 
 
 'U'illmm H. Anderson, M. D. . . 
 U. Berorly Cole, II. D., dc;m . 
 IleTirv Gibljons, jr., M. D., do;in.. 
 Clia.'?.' A. Lindslcv, il. U., dc.in .. 
 L. A. Dujas. il.l)., LL. U., dean.. 
 
 "W. Dum-an, M. D.. deau 
 
 J. G. 'Westmoreland, il. D., dean 
 Joseph W. Freer, M. D., president 
 N, S. Davis, A. M., M. D., dean . , 
 
 ■W. n. I5.vford, A. M., II. D., pros 
 J. A. Coniingor, M. D., secrctary. 
 
 J. C. Hii'ihes. M. D., dean 
 
 ■W. F. reel;, M. D.. dean 
 
 J. M. Eoiline, il. D., dean 
 
 E. S. Gaillard, M. 1)., dean 
 
 T. G. ];icliardson, M. D„ dean. .- 
 C. F. Eraekett, II. D., secretary. 
 
 Chas. W. Chancellor, II. D., dean 
 Jnlian J. Chisolm, II. D., dean. .. 
 
 C.ilviu Ellis, M. D., dean 
 
 Stephen Tracy, M. D., dean... 
 Abram Sajjer," M. A., M. D., dean. 
 Theo're A. ilcGraw. M. D., secr'y 
 
 John S. iloore, M. I)., dean 
 
 J. T. Hodsson.il. D., dean ... 
 
 Joseph Cliew. M. D., dean .' . 
 
 S. S. Todd, II. D., president 
 
 A. D. Smith, D. D., LL. D 
 
 Ja.s. ^V. McLaiie, il. D., secretary 
 
 J. V. Lausinir. M. U 
 
 J. TV'. Draper: II. D., LL. D., pres't 
 Emily Blacliwell, il. D., secretary, 
 
 J nliiis F. iliner, il. D., dean 
 
 S. G. Aiinior, il, D., dean 
 
 Austin Flint, .jr., M. D., secretary 
 John Towler, il. D., dean 
 
 James Graham, 11. D., dean. . . 
 J. LangCascels.il. D.,LL. D.,dean 
 
 FrancisCarter, !M. D., dean 
 
 B. S. Lawsou, il. D., dean 
 
 George Mentlcuhall, M D., dean. 
 
 Daniel Payton, M. D 
 
 K. E. ICogers. M. D., dean 
 
 IJ. Howard Itand, M. D., dean 
 
 Ann Preston, M. D., dean 
 
 I. N. Itendall, D. D., president . . . 
 George E. Trescot, M. D., dean . . 
 
 33 
 103 
 
 44 
 1, 100 
 
 213 
 
 107 
 
 19 
 100 
 
 .57 
 212 
 
 230 
 07 
 
 170 
 
 172 
 
 301 
 
 26 
 
 315 
 
 CI 
 
 40 
 
 1C2 
 
 18 
 
 22 
 
 44 
 
 330 
 
 231 
 30 
 101 
 
 '426 
 20 
 
 42 
 100 
 ISO 
 
 14 
 310 
 411 
 
 CO 
 3 
 
 1,483 
 320 
 
 577 
 2, 042 
 
 1,453 
 
 83 
 
 Free . . 
 
 6130 00 
 
 130 00 
 
 100 00 
 
 105 00 
 
 105 00 
 
 120 00 
 
 55 00 
 
 50 00 
 
 50 00 
 Free . . 
 
 .9 
 
 40 CO 
 20 00 
 50 00 
 
 140 00 
 70 00 
 
 120 00 
 
 120 00 
 
 120 00 
 
 75 00 
 
 07 
 
 :20 
 
 1,03D 
 
 1,040 
 5G0 
 
 138 
 
 :,o 00 
 1C5 00 
 
 1L3 00 
 50 00 
 
 105 00 
 77 CO 
 
 140 00 
 
 110 00 
 105 CO 
 
 75 00 
 100 00 
 140 00 
 
 72 00 
 
 40 CO 
 40 00 
 
 CO 00 
 25 00 
 40 CO 
 110 CO 
 140 00 
 140 CO 
 105 00 
 
 2,000 
 5,000 
 4,000 
 
 1,000 
 
 4,000 
 
 Commencement of lecture 
 course. 
 
 July 
 
 1st Monday in Jnno 
 
 2d Thursday in September. 
 1st Monda.y in Kovcmber. . 
 1st Wednesday in Nov'ber. 
 1st Mondaj' in Alay 
 
 1st Monday in October. 
 
 October 17 
 
 2,000 
 4,000 
 
 1,100 
 1,200 
 4,500 
 
 800 
 1,500 
 
 120 00 
 
 November 1 . . 
 October 11.... 
 
 October 3 
 
 October 3 
 
 November 13 . 
 February 15.. 
 
 October 1 
 
 October 2 
 
 September 28 
 
 1st "Wednesday in Nov'ber. 
 
 October 2 
 
 March 1 
 
 1st Monday in October 
 
 2d Monday in October 
 
 2d day of October 
 
 2d day of October 
 
 1st Thursday in August. : . 
 
 October 1 
 
 1st Tuesday in September . 
 
 October 12 
 
 1st Tuesday in October 
 
 1st "Wednesday in Nov'ber. 
 
 5th day of March 
 
 September 13 
 
 Ist "Wednesday in October. 
 
 1st week in October 
 
 Ist "Wednesday in October. 
 
 October 5 
 
 October 5 
 
 1st Tuesday in October . . . 
 
 1st Friday in November 
 
 September 4 
 
 2d Monday in September . . 
 1st Thursday in October 
 
 lr,t Monday in November... 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 3 
 4 
 5 
 6 
 7 
 8 
 9 
 
 10 
 U 
 
 12 
 13 
 14 
 15 
 16 
 17 
 
 18 
 19 
 20 
 21 
 22 
 23 
 24 
 25 
 26 
 27 
 28 
 29 
 30 
 31 
 32 
 33 
 34 
 35 
 36 
 
 37 
 38 
 
 39 
 40 
 41 
 42 
 43 
 44 
 45 
 46 
 47 
 48 
 49 
 50 
 
 51 
 
 52 
 53 
 54 
 55 
 50 
 
 5T 
 
 T. B. Buchanan, M. D., secretary 
 A. ErsTvine, M. D., dean 
 
 203 
 23 
 
 50 00 
 CO 00 
 
 October 3.. 
 October 16. 
 
 G. Dowell, M. D., dean 
 
 Peter Collier, Ph. D., M. D. . . . . 
 
 S. M.iujdn, A. M., M. D 
 
 James B. McCaw, M. D., dean . 
 
 Jolmsnn Eliot, M. D., dean 
 
 John C. Pvilcy, M. D., dean 
 
 G. S. Palmer, M. D., dean . 
 
 830 
 
 .1. 
 
 70 CO 
 100 00 
 120 00 
 135 00 
 133 CO 
 
 100 00 
 
 33, 000 
 1,200 
 
 1st Thursday in March. 
 
 October 1 
 
 Oetober2 
 
 October2 
 
 1st Monday in October. . 
 
 October 11 
 
 tUoth sexes admitted. 
 Bion of the habeas corpus iu a portion of the State. [Note by Dr. Trescot.] 
 Lebanon, Tenn., still at Memphis. [Note by Dr. Erakino.] 
 
474 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 
 
 STATISTICS OF MEDICAL, DENTAL, AT^D PIIARIIA 
 
 Name. 
 
 Location. 
 
 2. ^^Eclectic.'^ 
 
 Bennett Colleao of Eclectic Medicine and Surgery. 
 
 Eclectic iledicil Institute 
 
 Eclectic Medical College 
 
 Electic Medical College 
 
 3. "Jjotanic' 
 
 Physio-Medical Institute . 
 Pliysio-Mcdical College*. .. 
 
 4. " Homccopathic/ 
 
 nalineniann Mndical College , 
 
 Ilomteopatiii'- Medical ('nllego 
 
 Homfnopiitliic- Mrdi<-;il ( 'ullL-go 
 
 New Yfii-k ^Mcdiial Colic;:;!? lor Womenf. 
 
 no:na}0]iatbic UospitalCollegel 
 
 HaUuemaun Medical College 
 
 IT. — DENTAL. 
 
 Baltimore College of Dental Surgery 
 
 Dental school of Harvard University 
 
 Bosti.ii Dental Ci.Ue^'e , 
 
 Missouri iH'iiIuU'ollego , 
 
 New York Colb-ge <it' Dentistry , 
 
 Ohio College of l)ental Surgery , 
 
 Pennsylvania College of Deutal Surgery. 
 Philaiielphia Dental College '. .. 
 
 New Orleans Deutal College . 
 
 III.— PIIAUMACEUTICAL. 
 
 Chicago College of Pharmacy 
 
 Departmentof Pharmacy, Io\Va WcsloyanUniver'y. 
 
 Kansaa College of Pharinacy 
 
 Louisville College of Pharmacy 
 
 Maryland Collegoof Ph:irmacy 
 
 School of Pharmacy, Uuiversity of Michigan 
 
 Massachusetts College of Pharmacy 
 
 Mississippi College of Pharmacy 
 
 St. Louis Colloge of Pharmacy 
 
 College of Pharmacy of (ho City of New York 
 
 CoUoLioof Pli;;rmacy of Baldwin University 
 
 CinciMiinfi (.'ollecjo of Pharmacy 
 
 Philadelphia College of Pharmacy 
 
 School of Pharmacy of Colanibiau College 
 
 School of Pharmacy of Gcorgeto^vn College 
 
 New Orleaus College of Pharmacy 
 
 Chirago, m 
 
 Ciueinuati, Ohio 
 
 New Yorit City, N. Y. 
 Philadelphia, Pa 
 
 Cincinnati, Ohio . 
 do 
 
 Chicago, m , 
 
 St. Louis. Mo 
 
 New York City, N. Y. , 
 
 do .: 
 
 Cleveland, Ohio 
 
 Philadelphia, Pa 
 
 Baltimore, Md 
 
 Boston, Mass 
 
 do 
 
 St. Louis, Mo 
 
 New York City, N. T... 
 
 Cincinnati, Ohio 
 
 Philadelphia, Pa 
 
 , do 
 
 IBGS 
 1814 
 
 ISCG 
 16-13 
 
 1859 
 1651 
 
 1S50 
 
 1853 
 1850 
 1803 
 18-1 D 
 
 16-17 
 
 1839 
 1803 
 
 New Orleans, La. 
 
 Chicago, HI 
 
 Mount Pleasant, Iowa. 
 
 Leavenworth, Kans 
 
 Louisville, Ky 
 
 Baltimore, Md 
 
 Ann Arhor, Mich , 
 
 Boston, Mass 
 
 Jackson, Miss 
 
 St. Louis. Mo 
 
 New York City, N. Y. 
 
 Eerea, Ohio , 
 
 Cincinnati, Ohio 
 
 Philadelphia, Pa , 
 
 Washington, D. C 
 
 do . 
 
 1806 
 1805 
 1615 
 1856 
 1863 
 
 1SC7 
 
 1859 
 1871 
 
 1809 
 
 1811 
 
 1803 
 1807 
 
 1829 
 1865 
 
 1821 
 
 New Orleans, La. 
 
 1870 
 
 1S65 
 
 $25 
 25 
 
 30 
 
 30 
 
 10 
 20-35 
 
 •At present in aheyance ; formerly (1851-58) devoted to the medical education of both eexea; tbia 
 open the college diiriug the present session, 1671-'72. [Note by Dr Curtis.) 
 I Both soxea admitted. 
 
STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 CEUTICAL INSTITUTIONS IN THE UNITED STATES— ContiDned. 
 
 475 
 
 President or dean. 
 
 « 1 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 O 
 U 
 
 O 
 
 o 
 .=1 
 
 a 
 
 3 
 
 ■s 
 
 s 
 
 S 
 
 
 
 
 "0 
 
 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 
 U 
 
 S 
 
 a 
 
 It 
 
 a 
 
 Commencement of lecture 
 course. 
 
 'A 
 
 Miltfln Jay, M. D., dean 
 
 14 
 
 7 
 7 
 
 103 
 
 213 
 
 70 
 
 "'is'i' 
 
 $30 00 
 70 00 
 105 00 
 
 
 October 3 ... . 
 
 1 
 
 
 October IG 
 
 
 EobcrtS. Kewtou, M. D., pri-s't.. 
 
 500 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 4 
 
 Win H Conlv A. il H D doan 
 
 G 
 
 
 
 75 CO 
 
 
 October 10 
 
 ■\ 
 
 A. Curtis A. il. il. B., dean 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 F. A. Lord M. T)., rp"i.slrar 
 
 15 
 
 113 
 
 
 85 00 
 
 
 2d Thursday in October 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Ifi 
 
 94 
 
 47 
 
 80 
 
 134 
 
 "'27' 
 
 341 
 
 "too' 
 
 CC4 
 
 100 00 
 105 CO 
 Oil CO 
 100 00 
 
 100 00 
 110 00 
 
 
 2d Tuesday in October 
 
 
 
 
 
 n. F. Eiii^ar, M. D., rcjristrar 
 
 H- K. Gucrnsej, U. D., dean 
 
 F. J. S. Gorfcas, M. P., dean 
 
 N. C. Kei'n, M. D., dt- an 
 
 17 
 U 
 
 10 
 
 8 
 
 2, 
 
 000 
 
 Last Wednesday in Sept 
 
 2d Monday in October 
 
 5 
 
 
 
 
 First ^V"ednesdayiuNov'be^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 lIomcrJndd.]\I.D.,D.D.S..deaii.. 
 
 9 
 
 8 
 7 
 7 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 3 
 3 
 
 20 
 30 
 30 
 74 
 73 
 
 23 
 43 
 
 37 
 
 47 
 210 
 
 iao 
 
 23 
 3 
 
 100 no 
 ir.o 00 
 100 00 
 100 00 
 100 00 
 
 100 00 
 
 30 00 
 35 00 
 
 
 
 
 Frank Abbott, M. I)., dcau 
 
 
 October 15 - 
 
 5 
 
 J. Talt, D. D. S.. dean 
 
 ICO 
 
 
 
 E. Wildmar, il. D.. D. D. fi.. doan 
 
 
 7 
 
 J. H. ilcQuillcu, M. D., D. D. S., 
 
 
 
 
 dean. 
 Jas. S. Knapp, D. D. S., doan 
 
 
 November 27 
 
 r\ 
 
 A. E. Elicrt, dean 
 
 eoo 
 
 Fi rst Mon day in October 
 
 \ 
 
 John "WhfoUT, P. D., president.. 
 
 •2 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 F. C. Mdlcr, secretary 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 J. Urown Uaxlev, president 
 
 3 
 3 
 3 
 
 45 
 
 30 
 
 110 
 
 30 00 
 
 
 October 10 
 
 5 
 
 A. B. Presc;)tt, M. I) 
 
 
 
 
 George T. II. llarkoo, dean 
 
 
 30 00 
 
 
 
 7 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 "W. n. CrawI'or<l, piesident. 
 
 3 
 3 
 3 
 3 
 3 
 •J 
 3 
 
 
 
 10 CO 
 30 CO 
 43 CO 
 30 00 
 30 CO 
 4) 00 
 40 00 
 
 
 
 9 
 
 U. A. Cafssobecr. Jr. enei-etary . . . 
 
 90 
 
 157 
 22 
 
 5o0 
 
 September 25 
 
 10 
 
 E. S. Wayne, dean , 
 
 
 
 10 
 
 Kobert Bridges. M.D., dean 
 
 242 
 12 
 
 20 
 
 821 
 
 *-, 
 
 500 
 
 October 1 - . 
 
 13 
 
 John C. Rilev, M. D 
 
 lat Monday in October 
 
 October 2 
 
 14 
 
 Johnson EHot, il. B.. dean 
 
 
 15 
 
 S. Logan, M. D-, duan 
 
 
 October 15 
 
 IG 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 gave rise to the preccdin;; Xo. 1 ' 
 (For fcmalo students only. 
 
 Eotanic ;" charter baa not been surrendered, and it is propoaed to 
 
476 
 
 REPORT OP THE COSEVIISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 
 
 •.C.injq I 
 r^ ni eomn 
 
 ■ejaop 
 •Tus joa.iqranj^ 
 
 CI t-^ c3 
 
 ■RJtll.lll.IJS 
 
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 H 
 m 
 
 P 
 
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STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 477 
 
 
 
 
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 i : 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 C( 
 
 
 CI . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 f-O 
 
 00 c» 
 
 CI 
 
 1-. n 
 
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 53 
 
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 ■ CDGO CO CD • 1 OJ 
 
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 £ *« > a 9 .9 
 
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478 
 
 REPORT OP THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 
 
 n 
 
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 H 
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STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 479 
 
 ■ o o 
 
 oo 
 o ^ 
 
 ^7. ;a 
 
 00 
 fiat 
 
 Oct 
 
 a so 
 
 000 
 
 PL- 00 -coo- 
 
 1 ■mT o o L-: ^ - 
 
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480" 
 
 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 
 
 
 LT r; CD 
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STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 431 
 
 S2 
 
 r^ O C- O O O — Q 'H 
 
 e e « « o e « 
 
 S c; t3 r- 1.-1 r- J- P; •— LT o 
 
 ^ ij. -r ■v Tj> 
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 ^^'i 
 
 
 29* 
 
482 
 
 REPORT OP THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 
 
 SUMMAET OF EXAMINATIONS FOE ADMISSION TO THE UNITED STATES 
 MILITAKT ACADEMY FOR FIFTEEN TEAES, FEOM 1650 TO 1870, INCLUSIVE. 
 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 Eejected. 
 
 
 CI 
 
 1 
 
 On what account. 
 
 
 
 Literary incompetency. 
 
 Appointed from— 
 
 In the year— 
 
 a 
 ■S 
 
 tJD 
 B 
 
 d 
 
 Deficient In— 
 
 
 
 
 X) 
 
 6 
 "A 
 
 ^ 
 
 CO 
 
 3 
 
 X) 
 
 d 
 2i 
 
 
 1 
 
 6 
 ■A 
 
 it 
 
 6 c 
 
 ; d 
 
 <-A 
 
 % 
 C 
 
 3 
 X 
 
 d 
 >5 
 
 •as 
 ^•^' 
 
 d 
 
 n 
 5 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 ■< 
 6 
 
 •a 
 
 4 
 
 1 
 2 
 4 
 4 
 
 "7' 
 1 
 9 
 3 
 1 
 9 
 3 
 2 
 3 
 
 •a 
 
 1 
 
 
 d 
 % 
 
 7 
 1 
 3 
 1 
 3 
 
 '4 
 
 3 
 
 '2 
 
 \ 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 d 
 
 7 
 2 
 2 
 
 
 3 
 
 '3 
 4 
 
 3 
 
 i 
 
 6 
 
 1 
 1 
 1 
 1 
 
 2 
 '5 
 ? 
 
 1 
 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 6 
 
 i 
 
 d 
 
 ■a 
 
 d 
 
 d 
 
 Z( 
 
 
 did 
 
 i 
 
 
 32 
 10 
 15 
 22 
 11 
 
 4 
 32 
 55 
 67 
 24 
 
 6 
 60 
 18 
 26 
 32 
 43 
 29 
 11 
 24 
 48 
 
 5 
 
 7 
 14 
 27 
 157 
 32 
 
 "J 
 127 
 
 7 
 oo 
 
 i 
 
 13 
 
 46 
 
 10 
 
 27 
 
 6 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 192 
 
 20 
 
 7 
 
 12 
 
 14 
 
 6 
 
 4 
 
 23 
 
 47 
 
 46 
 
 19 
 
 3 
 
 43 
 
 14 
 
 2-J 
 
 25 
 
 42 
 
 20 
 
 9 
 
 16 
 
 32 
 
 4 
 
 1 
 
 12 
 
 25 
 
 128 
 
 26 
 
 80 
 
 3 
 
 101 
 
 7 
 
 17 
 
 33 
 
 5 
 
 12 
 
 34 
 
 
 
 20 
 
 5 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 ...... 
 
 1 
 170 
 
 12 
 3 
 3 
 
 8 
 5 
 
 '""9' 
 8 
 
 21 
 5 
 3 
 
 17 
 4 
 4 
 7 
 1 
 9 
 2 
 8 
 
 16 
 1 
 6 
 2 
 2 
 
 29 
 6 
 
 31 
 1 
 
 26 
 
 '"'5' 
 
 15 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 12 
 4 
 
 7 
 1 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 ■"■"4" 
 
 "22 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 "2' 
 
 .... 
 
 
 1 
 .. 
 
 '2 
 
 
 1 
 
 '2 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 '2 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 '2 
 1 
 
 '2 
 i 
 
 i 
 
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 3 
 
 '2 
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 2 
 
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 i 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
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 2 
 
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 2 
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 i 
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 2 
 
 '2 
 3 
 '2 
 
 i 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 1 
 1 
 
 '2 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 2 
 2 
 
 '2 
 
 
 
 . 3 
 . 1 
 
 . 2 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 1 
 
 '3 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 11 
 
 3 
 6 
 5 
 
 9 
 
 19 
 4 
 3 
 
 17 
 3 
 4 
 5 
 1 
 8 
 2 
 7 
 
 15 
 1 
 6 
 1 
 1 
 
 25 
 6 
 
 27 
 1 
 
 20 
 
 ■4" 
 12 
 3 
 1 
 11 
 3 
 5 
 1 
 2 
 1 
 
 .... 
 
 W 
 
 5 
 1 
 
 T 
 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 "i ! 
 1 
 
 i '. 
 
 2 
 
 1. 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 
 2 
 2 
 
 "f 
 
 5 
 17 
 4 
 2 
 8 
 
 
 3 
 3 
 
 "2 
 
 2 
 1 
 8 
 3 
 
 '5 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ; '4 
 . 3 
 2 1 
 
 
 4 
 
 Florida 
 
 
 
 5 
 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 
 '. 3 
 
 
 5 
 1 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 Kentucky 
 
 Louisiana 
 
 .... 
 
 "2" 
 
 "i 
 
 "'i' 
 1 
 
 .... 
 
 1 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 h' 
 .... 
 
 3 
 
 ... 
 
 1 
 2 
 
 "3' 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 1 
 
 2 
 1 
 3 
 
 i 
 
 '3 
 i 
 
 6 
 1 
 
 !1 
 
 Maryland 
 
 
 
 i! 
 
 '. "3 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 6 
 2 
 
 12 
 
 '4 
 6 
 
 3 
 1 
 4 
 
 7 
 
 h 
 
 1 
 
 » 
 
 
 
 Mississippi 
 
 '2! 
 
 "2 
 i 
 
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 i' 
 
 ! '2 
 . 1 
 
 . i 
 
 i '4 
 . 1 
 
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 1 3 
 
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 6 
 4 
 
 '2 
 
 i 
 
 7 
 5 
 6 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 s 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 New nampshire . . 
 
 New Jersey 
 
 New York 
 
 North Carolina . . . 
 Ohio 
 
 1.. 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 6 
 4 
 9 
 1 
 10 
 
 "'3' 
 3 
 3 
 
 "'e' 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 15 
 2 
 18 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 13 
 
 
 
 1 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 i 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 '3 
 1 
 
 10 
 
 .. 
 6 
 
 '5 
 
 1 
 
 '3 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 6 
 1 
 4 
 
 
 
 Pennsylvania 
 
 Rhode Island 
 
 Sonth Carolina 
 
 Tennessee 
 
 Texiis 
 
 13 
 
 2 
 10 
 1 
 1 
 8 
 2 
 3 
 1 
 1 
 1 
 
 "i' 
 "7' 
 
 6 
 
 "4 
 
 '4 
 1 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 3 
 2 
 
 I 
 
 Vermont 
 
 
 
 % 
 
 West Virginia 
 
 Wisconsin 
 
 
 Colorado Ter 
 
 New Mexico 
 
 "Utah Ter 
 
 2'i 
 
 '3 
 
 2 
 
 i 
 '7 
 
 1 
 '7 
 
 1 
 
 "3' 
 
 "i 
 
 1 
 2 
 
 6 
 
 80 
 
 1 
 
 '■ 
 3 
 
 '9 
 
 98 
 
 - 
 
 Washington Ter . . 
 
 Dakota Ter 
 
 Arizona Ter 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 Wyoming Ter .... 
 
 '« 
 
 
 
 Grand totals . . 
 
 1,459 
 
 1,133 
 
 326 
 
 41 
 
 16 
 
 10 
 
 14 
 
 16 
 
 9 
 
 u 
 
 11 
 
 8 
 
 13 
 
 ,3 
 
 151 
 
 4 36 
 
 23 
 
 70 
 
 285 
 
 173 
 
 76 
 
 133 
 
 81 
 
STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 483 
 
 Continned.— SFMIIAET OF EXAMINATIONS FOE ADMISSIOIT TO THE TJNTTED 
 STATES lUHTAJlY AND NAVAL ACADEMIES DDEING THE YEAR 1871. 
 
 
 TJ. S. MILITAKT ACADEMY. 
 
 U. S. NAVAL ACADEMY. 
 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 a 
 Q 
 d 
 
 •a 
 
 ■i 
 
 S 
 & 
 g 
 
 i 
 
 REJECTED. 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 •3 
 
 g 
 
 <) 
 
 REJECTED. 
 
 
 1 
 
 On what acconnt. 
 
 1 
 
 On what acconnt. 
 
 STATES 
 AND 
 
 i 
 •a 
 
 J 
 
 For deficiency in — 
 
 
 For deficiency in— 
 
 TEEPJTOKIES. 
 
 ti 
 
 a 
 ■■3 
 
 A 
 1 
 
 P c 
 
 6 
 
 .2 
 
 1 
 
 o 
 a; 
 
 o 
 
 6 
 
 ;^ 
 
 3 
 
 a 
 
 1 
 
 o 
 
 6 
 
 S 
 1 
 
 pi. 
 
 c 
 
 a 
 
 d 
 
 3 
 1 
 
 tic 
 
 2 
 K 
 
 1^. 
 
 1^ 
 
 5 
 * 
 
 6 t 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 d 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 ^ 
 
 i 
 
 d 
 
 1 
 
 d 
 S5 
 
 d c 
 
 il 
 
 
 4 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 ' i 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 
 4 
 1 
 1 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 2 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 i 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 "i 
 
 3 
 5 
 6 
 
 3 
 3 
 4 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Uliiiois 
 
 3 S 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 2 
 2 
 
 2 
 2 
 
 2 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 4 
 4 
 1 
 7 
 2 
 1 
 
 3 
 2 
 1 
 4 
 3 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Keutucky 
 
 3 
 
 .... 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 a 
 
 2 
 1 
 1 
 
 4 
 2 
 
 1 
 3 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 1 
 2 
 2 
 
 "i 
 s 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1. 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 3 
 4 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 2 
 11 
 
 5 
 
 1 
 2 
 9 
 1 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 "i 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 15 
 
 1 
 10 
 
 1 
 5 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 2 
 
 
 
 2 
 1 
 1 
 
 2 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 9 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 9 
 1 
 13 
 
 2 
 
 8 
 1 
 8 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 .... 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 5 
 1 
 
 2 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 5 
 1 
 
 5 
 
 4 
 1 
 
 1 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 o 
 
 Ilhode*I<?lancl 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 4 
 o 
 
 1 
 5 
 
 1 
 2 
 
 3 
 o 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 1 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 Texas 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Idaho Tcr 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 "Waaliin^ion Ter 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ♦1 
 17 
 
 1 
 
 15 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 13 
 
 10 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 21 
 
 1 
 111 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Total 
 
 110 
 
 77 
 
 42 
 
 11 
 
 3 
 
 ID 
 
 Vh4 
 
 24 
 
 2S 
 
 97 
 
 7] 
 
 26 
 
 3 
 
 
 15 
 
 0.. 
 
 
 
 
 
 *A Japanese student. 
 
484 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 
 
 STATISTICS OF NOBIIAL 
 
 Name. 
 
 Location. 
 
 ■a 
 
 Principal. 
 
 1 State Normal School 
 
 2 Arkadelpbia Normal School 
 
 3 Girls' Normal School 
 
 4 State Normal School 
 
 5 State Normal School 
 
 i6 Normal IJDi versity 
 
 '7 East Florida Seminary 
 
 i8 West Florida Seminary 
 
 9 Normal dep't Atlanta "University — 
 
 10 State Normal University 
 
 11 Cook County Normal School 
 
 12 Normal class of WestfleUl College... 
 
 13 Normal dep't of Eureka College 
 
 14 Addison Teachers' Seminary 
 
 15 Connty Normal School 
 
 16 Southern Illinois Normal University 
 
 17 Connty Normal Schools 
 
 18 City Normal School 
 
 19 Northwestern German-English Nor- 
 
 mal SchooL 
 
 20 State Normal School 
 
 21 City Training School 
 
 22 City Training School 
 
 23 Normal dep't of Iowa Collece 
 
 24 Teachers' dep't of Tabor College 
 
 25 Normal dep't ot Iowa University. . . 
 
 26 City Training School 
 
 27 State NormalSchool 
 
 23 Ely Normal School 
 
 2i) Normal course of Georgetown Coll . 
 
 30 Normal department Berea College. . . 
 
 31 New Orleans Normal School 
 
 32 Normal dep't Straight University 
 
 33 Eastern State Normal School 
 
 34 Western State Normal School 
 
 35 State Normal School 
 
 36 County Normal School 
 
 37 State Normal School 
 
 38 State Normal School 
 
 39 State Normal School 
 
 40 State Normal School 
 
 41 City Normal School 
 
 42 City Normal School 
 
 43 Girls' lligh and Normal School 
 
 44 State Normal School 
 
 45 First State Normal School -■ 
 
 40 Second State Normal School 
 
 47 Third State Normal School 
 
 48 State Normal 
 
 49 Normal and Manual Labor School. . . 
 
 50 North Missouri State Normal School 
 
 51 Fruitland NormalSchool 
 
 52 State Normal School 
 
 53 Coil.of NormalInstruct'n,Univ.of Mo. 
 
 54 Central Normal School 
 
 55 City Normal School 
 
 56 State Normal School 
 
 57 State Normal School 
 
 58 Farnum Preparatory School 
 
 59 State Normal School 
 
 60 State Normal School 
 
 61 State Normal School 
 
 62 Liberty Normal Institute 
 
 63 State Normal School 
 
 64 State Normifl School 
 
 65 State Normal School 
 
 66 State Normal School 
 
 C7 State Normal School 
 
 68 State Normal School 
 
 6!) Normal CoUegeof City of New York. 
 
 70 Normal departm't Ingham University. 
 
 71 Normal College, University of N. C. - 
 
 72 St. Augustine Normal School 
 
 73 Central Normal School 
 
 74 Western Keserve Normal School 
 
 75 Northwestern Normal School 
 
 Talladega, Ala 
 
 Arkadelphia, Ark . . 
 San Francisco, Cal . 
 
 San Jo86, Cal 
 
 New Britain, Conn . 
 Wilmington, Del ... 
 
 Gainsviile, Fla 
 
 Fla 
 
 1869 
 1869 
 1862 
 1849 
 1867 
 
 Bov. John Jordan ... 
 
 Ellis E. Holmes 
 
 W.T. Lucky, A. M. , D.D 
 Isaac N. CaVlctou, A. M. 
 John C. Harkness . . . 
 
 Atlanta, Ga . 
 
 Normal, 111 
 
 Englewood, 111 
 
 Westfield.IU , 
 
 Eureka, 111 
 
 Addison, HI 
 
 Peoria, 111 
 
 Carbondale, 111 
 
 Bureau County, HI. 
 
 Chicago, III 
 
 Galena, III 
 
 Terre Ilaute, Tnd 
 
 Fort Wayne, Ind 
 
 Indianapolis, Ind 
 
 Grinnell, Iowa 
 
 Tabor, Iowa 
 
 Iowa City, Iowa 
 
 Davenport, Iowa 
 
 Emporia, Kans 
 
 Louisville, Ky 
 
 Georgetown, Ky 
 
 BeMa, Ky 
 
 New Orleans, La 
 
 New Orleans, La 
 
 Castine, Me , 
 
 Farmington, Me 
 
 Baltimore, Md 
 
 Alleghany County, Md. 
 
 WestlieUi, Mass 
 
 Framingham, Mass 
 
 Salem. Mass 
 
 Bridgewater, Mass 
 
 Boston, Mass 
 
 Worcester, Mass 
 
 Boston, Mass 
 
 Ypsilanti, Mich 
 
 Winona. Minn 
 
 Maukatn, Minn 
 
 St. Cloud, Minn 
 
 Holly Sprinf^s, Miss 
 
 Tngaloo. Miss 
 
 Kirksville, Mo 
 
 Fruitland, Mo 
 
 Warrensburgh, Mo 
 
 Columbia, Mo 
 
 Sedalia, Mo 
 
 St. Lonis. Mo 
 
 Peru, Nebr 
 
 Trenton, N.J 
 
 Beverly, N.J 
 
 Plymouth, N. H 
 
 Albany, N.T 
 
 Oswego, N. Y 
 
 Libertv.N.Y 
 
 Brockport. N.T 
 
 Cortland, N.Y 
 
 Fredonia, N. Y 
 
 Potsdam.N.Y 
 
 Buffalo, N.Y 
 
 Gencsoo, N. T 
 
 New York, N.Y 
 
 LeKov.N.Y 
 
 Chapel Dill, N.C 
 
 Raleiffh.N.C 
 
 Wortuington, Ohio 
 
 Milan, Ohio 
 
 Ada^ Ohio 
 
 E. A. Ware, A. M .. . 
 i>. S. Wentwortii .... 
 H. W." Everest,' A. M. . . . 
 
 1868 
 1869 
 
 1860 
 
 1867 
 1867 
 
 1867 
 
 1866 
 1863 
 1864 
 
 1858 
 1869 
 
 1807 
 1H63 
 1665 
 
 1839 
 1839 
 
 1854 
 1840 
 
 A. Etbridgo . 
 j.WeVnii .!. 
 
 W. A. Jones, AM... 
 
 Mary H. Swann 
 
 Amanda F. Funnell . 
 George F. Magoun, D. D 
 
 S.N.Fellows 
 
 Mrs. M. A. Mcgonegal. 
 George W. Hoss, A. M. , 
 
 N. M. Crawford, D. D ... 
 E.H.Fairchild.D.D... 
 
 Mrs. K. Shaw 
 
 J. W.Hcaley 
 
 J.T.Fletcher, A.M... 
 
 C. C. Ivounds. M. S 
 
 M. A. Newell 
 
 1852 
 1847 
 
 J. W, Dickinson, A.M.. 
 
 Annie E. Johnson 
 
 D. B. Hagar, A. M 
 
 A. J.Boyden.A.M.... 
 
 1867 
 1869 
 1871 
 1867 
 
 1857 
 1867 
 
 1870 
 184 i 
 1861 
 
 1866' 
 1866 
 1867 
 1860 
 1867 
 1867 
 
 Ephraim Hunt 
 
 D. P. Mavhe w 
 
 Wm. F. Phelps, A. M 
 
 Geo. M.Gage 
 
 Ira Moore 
 
 S. W. Garmen 
 
 J. Baldwin 
 
 J.H.Kerr 
 
 Geo. P. Beard, A. M. 
 D.Kead,LL.D 
 
 Anna C. Erackett . - . 
 U.H. Straight, A.B., 
 Lewis M. Johnson, A.M. 
 Lewis M. Johnson, A.M. 
 Prof. S. U. Pearl, A M 
 J. Alden, D.D., LL.D. . 
 
 E.A.Sheldon ■ 
 
 M.B.HaU 
 
 Henry S. Randall 
 
 Jno.W. Armstrong, D.D. 
 M.Mc Vicar, Ph.D.,LL.D 
 
 1857 
 
 T. Hunter, A.M 
 
 S.D.Burcbard, D.D.. 
 
 S.Pool 
 
 Rev.J. B.Smith, D.D 
 W. Mitchell & J. Ogden. 
 
 H. S.Lehr., 
 
STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 SCHOOLS IS THE T7NITED STATES. 
 
 485 
 
 
 .3 
 
 "Si 
 
 il 
 
 NUMBER OF STU- 
 DENTS. 
 
 1! 
 
 1 
 
 (S 
 
 
 ■si" 
 
 |i 
 
 ill 
 
 H 
 
 •A 
 
 
 1 
 
 6 
 1 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 Time of anniversary. 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 3 
 
 9 
 3 
 5 
 
 
 83 
 
 "32" 
 10 
 59 
 
 102 
 250 
 132 
 114 
 
 27 
 
 185 
 250 
 104 
 li4 
 
 80 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 September 25. 
 July. 
 
 May. 
 
 3 
 
 "253' 
 
 24 
 10 
 
 3 years.. 
 2 years.. 
 
 400 
 1,500 
 
 
 
 
 $8,000 00 
 
 
 .5 
 
 
 6 
 
 3 years 
 
 
 
 
 Last week in May. 
 
 "1 
 
 
 
 
 
 8 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 6 
 
 108 
 
 59 
 
 167 
 
 
 2 years. . 
 
 
 
 
 
 10 
 
 3 years. - 
 
 3,000 
 
 12,50000 
 
 8100 to 200 
 
 Third Thnrsday in Jnn& 
 
 11 
 
 2 
 
 13 
 
 70 
 
 83 
 
 
 12 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 13 
 
 3 
 
 "'93' 
 
 13 
 
 40 
 93 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 14 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 15 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 16 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 17 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 18 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 19 
 
 6 
 
 8 
 
 203 
 61 
 
 118 
 74 
 
 321 
 135 
 
 
 3 years.. 
 2to4yT8 
 
 250 
 
 
 
 First Monday of Sept. 
 
 20 
 
 
 
 91 
 
 
 
 
 
 22 
 
 1 
 3 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 91 
 
 66 
 
 
 66 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 24 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 9i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 9(i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 27 
 
 4 
 
 81 
 
 106 
 
 187 
 
 
 3 years. . 
 
 
 
 
 
 98 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 29 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 sn 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Jnne 26. 
 
 31 
 
 16 
 3 
 7 
 
 7 
 6 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Ttiird Saturday in Jnne. 
 
 33 
 
 
 
 
 
 3 years 
 
 
 
 
 
 33 
 34 
 
 44 
 93 
 
 24 
 
 96 
 
 49 
 
 139 
 
 140 
 142 
 163 
 
 
 2year3.. 
 
 1,200 
 
 2, 000 00 
 
 4, 400 00 
 8,000 00 
 
 180 00 
 
 Third Thursday in March. 
 
 a'i 
 
 2 years.. 
 
 500 
 
 
 Last Thursday in May. 
 
 3(i 
 
 
 
 37 
 
 3fl 
 
 7 
 9 
 9 
 7 
 
 17 
 
 118 
 98 
 
 152 
 96 
 
 135 
 98 
 152 
 134 
 
 
 2to4yra 
 
 1,300 
 
 900 
 
 8,000 
 
 5,000 
 
 8,500 00 
 8, 600 00 
 8, 500 00 
 8, 500 00 
 
 160 00 
 103 00 
 175 00 
 200 00 
 
 Third Thursday in Jnly. 
 
 39 
 
 
 
 L,ast of Jan., &. Ist July. 
 
 40 
 
 
 
 
 41 
 
 
 
 
 4" 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 43 
 
 33 
 10 
 
 8 
 8 
 4 
 
 1 
 
 "m 
 57 
 43 
 
 15 
 32 
 
 630 
 10 
 159 
 111 
 
 67 
 
 1« 
 
 630 
 129 
 216 
 154 
 82 
 50 
 
 
 3 to 4 yrs 
 
 
 
 
 September. 
 
 44 
 
 
 10,000 00 
 5, 000 00 
 
 
 
 45 
 46 
 
 2 years.. 
 
 3,000 
 
 160 00 
 
 Fourth week in Jnne. 
 
 47 
 
 2 years . . 
 
 
 
 
 
 48 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 4<t 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 50 
 
 13 
 2 
 5 
 5 
 
 193 
 
 128 
 
 321 
 
 52 
 87 
 30 
 
 "ii' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 51 
 
 6 years . . 
 
 
 
 
 
 n" 
 
 42 
 20 
 
 45 
 10 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 53 
 
 
 3,000 
 
 
 140 to 200 
 
 Last Thursday in July. 
 
 54 
 
 
 
 
 
 55 
 
 6 
 4 
 
 7 
 6 
 8 
 14 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 91 
 
 50 
 3,000 
 1,000 
 
 3, 531 95 
 
 75 14 
 
 150 no 
 
 150 00 
 ICO 00 
 24 00 
 
 leo 00 
 
 100 00 
 
 
 "iB 
 
 41 
 36 
 24 
 
 51 
 
 256 
 101 
 
 92 
 292 
 125 
 
 
 3 years.. 
 
 
 fi7 
 
 10, 000 00 
 2, 400 00 
 
 Last Thursday Jan.&Jtme 
 
 53 
 
 
 
 51 
 
 
 
 
 60 
 
 "'ss' 
 
 275 
 344 
 
 275 
 
 432 
 
 77 
 
 1,879 
 314 
 
 
 1,200 
 241 
 
 16, 000 00 
 16,000 00 
 
 
 61 
 
 
 Jnly 8 and Febmary 4. 
 
 Julys. 
 
 62 
 
 
 63 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 750 
 
 12,000 00 
 
 
 64 
 
 is' 
 
 13 
 
 60 
 
 75 
 
 135 
 
 
 
 
 
 65 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 66 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 67 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 68 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 60 
 
 27 
 
 
 804 
 
 804 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 70 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 71 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 72 
 
 o 
 
 39 
 
 34 
 
 73 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 September 87. 
 
 73 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 74 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 75 
 
 3 
 
 80 
 
 51 
 
 131 
 
 
 4 years.. 
 
 
 
 
 
486 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION 
 
 STATISTICS OP NORMAl 
 
 Kame. 
 
 Location. 
 
 6t ■ 
 b P 
 O O 
 
 O °3 
 
 n 
 
 Principal. 
 
 76 
 77 
 78 
 79 
 80 
 81 
 82 
 83 
 84 
 85 
 86 
 87 
 88 
 89 
 90 
 91 
 92 
 93 
 94 
 95 
 96 
 97 
 98 
 99 
 100 
 101 
 102 
 103 
 104 
 105 
 106 
 107 
 108 
 109 
 110 
 111 
 112 
 113 
 114 
 
 Orvrell Normal Institnte 
 
 National Normal School 
 
 McNeely Normal School 
 
 Teachers' Institute of Oherlin College. 
 Normal dep't Wilberforce University. 
 Normal dep't Mount Union College. . . 
 Normal dep't Willamette University. 
 
 Normal course Pacific University 
 
 State Normal School 
 
 State Normal School 
 
 State Normal School 
 
 State Normal School 
 
 State Normal School 
 
 Girls' Normal School 
 
 Normal departm't Lincoln University. 
 
 Normal course Palatinate College 
 
 State Normal School 
 
 Normal class Avery Institnte 
 
 Normal class Fish University 
 
 Normal dep't Central Tenn. College. . 
 
 Normal Department 
 
 Normal dep't East Tenn.WesleyanUn. 
 
 State Normal School 
 
 State Normal School 
 
 State Normal School 
 
 Hampton Normal Institute 
 
 Kichmond Normal School 
 
 State Normal School 
 
 Normal department Storer College . . . 
 Normal dop't West Virginia College . 
 
 State Normal School 
 
 State Normal School 
 
 State Normal School 
 
 Normal department Ripon College . . . 
 
 State Normal School 
 
 St.ate Normal School 
 
 Stnto Normal School 
 
 Normal dop't Howard University 
 
 Normal dep't University of Deseret. 
 
 Orwell, Ohio 
 
 Lebanon, Ohio .. 
 
 Hopedale, Ohio 
 
 Oherlin, Ohio 
 
 Near Xenia, Ohio. . . 
 
 Mount Union, Ohio 
 
 Salem, Oreg 
 
 Forest Grove, Oreg 
 
 Millorsvillo, Pa 
 
 Edinborough, Pa 
 
 liloomsburgh, Pa 
 
 Mansiield, Pa 
 
 Kutztown, Pa 
 
 Philadelphia, Pa 
 
 Oxford, Pa 
 
 Myerstown, Pa 
 
 Bristol. E. I 
 
 Charleston, S. C 
 
 NashviIle,Tenn 
 
 Nashville. Tenn 
 
 Lookout Mountain, Tenn. 
 
 Athens, Tenn 
 
 Johnson, Vt 
 
 Eandolph,Vt 
 
 C.astlcton, Vt 
 
 Hampton, Va. . 
 Kichmond, Va. 
 
 18GS 
 i852 
 
 1859 
 1861 
 1869 
 1862 
 1866 
 1848 
 1854 
 
 1852 
 
 H. U. Johnson 
 
 A. Holbrook 
 
 W. Brinkerhoof „ 
 
 Jas. H. Fairchild, D. D . 
 
 D. A. Payne, D.D 
 
 O. N. Hartshorne, LL.D. 
 
 L. J. PoweU, A. M 
 
 S. H. Marsh, D. D 
 
 E. Brooks, A.M 
 
 J. A.Cooper 
 
 H. Carver, A.M 
 
 C. U. VcrriU, A. M 
 
 J. S. Enneutraut 
 
 G.W. Fetter 
 
 LN.EendaU,D.D 
 
 H. E. Nicks, A.M 
 
 1666 
 1866 
 
 West Liberty, W. Va 
 
 H.arper'8 Ferry, W. Va 
 
 Flomington, W. Va 
 
 Marshall Coll. P. O., W. Va. 
 
 Fairmont, W. Va 
 
 Whitew.ater, Wis 
 
 Ripon, Wis 
 
 I'lattevUle, Wis 
 
 Madison, Wis 
 
 O.shkosh, Wis 
 
 Washington, D. C 
 
 Salt Lake City, Vtah 
 
 1867 
 1867 
 1868 
 1868 
 1867 
 1870 
 
 1868 
 1869 
 1866 
 
 1866 
 1862 
 1867 
 
 Prof. Spence 
 
 J. Braden.A.M 
 
 C. F. P. Bancroft, A. M 
 N. E.Cobleigh,D.D.... 
 S.H.Pe.arl 
 
 E. Conant 
 
 E.G. Williams 
 
 S. C.Armstrong 
 
 Andrew Washburn 
 
 F. H.Crago 
 
 N.C.Brackett,A.M.... 
 Eev.A.D. William8,A.M 
 
 S. E. Thompson 
 
 J.BI.air 
 
 Oliver Aroy, A.M 
 
 W. E. Merfiman, A. M.. 
 E. A.Charl6ton 
 
 Qen.O.O.IIoword, LL.D. 
 John R Patk, U. D 
 
STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 SCHOOLS IN THE UNITED STATES— Continned. 
 
 487 
 
 
 .a 
 
 |s 
 
 •A 
 
 KUMBER OP STU- 
 DENTS, 
 
 h 
 
 .2 t3 
 to 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 "ok 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 •i 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 Time of anniyeraary. 
 
 Tfi 
 
 4 
 4 
 6 
 
 120 
 
 239 
 110 
 
 120 
 145 
 165 
 
 240 
 384 
 175 
 
 8 
 
 
 
 
 $150 00 
 
 June 22. 
 
 77 
 
 
 
 
 
 78 
 
 43 
 
 
 
 
 150 00 
 
 Jane 231 
 
 70 
 
 
 
 
 
 CO 
 
 "4 
 
 "2' 
 
 8 
 
 8 
 10 
 11 
 
 16 
 
 15 
 
 31 
 
 242 
 
 31 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 n 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 f^ 
 
 
 
 31 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 P4 
 
 460 
 173 
 210 
 112 
 
 267 
 110 
 151 
 110 
 
 747 
 2S5 
 361 
 222 
 
 
 
 3,900 
 
 1,662 
 
 630 
 
 2,000 
 
 $5,00000 
 5, 000 00 
 5, 000 00 
 5, 000 00 
 
 200 00 
 170 00 
 184 00 
 178 00 
 
 Third Thursday in July. 
 
 m 
 
 
 
 Rfi 
 
 
 
 Third Thursday in June. 
 
 R7 
 
 
 
 
 RR 
 
 
 
 
 Rl 
 
 11 
 2 
 
 
 
 
 1,019 
 
 
 500 
 
 11, 925 24 
 
 2 75 
 
 February and July. 
 
 •to 
 
 9 
 
 
 9 
 
 
 
 11 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 q.i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 q? 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 <)4 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 15 
 
 2 
 1 
 
 32 
 21 
 
 20 
 12 
 
 52 
 33 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ")fi 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 17 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 OR 
 
 
 
 
 98 
 346 
 19 
 86 
 40 
 82 
 167 
 39 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 00 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 3 
 3 
 7 
 1 
 2 
 2 
 
 9 
 
 
 
 
 
 500 
 500 
 
 
 150 00 
 160 00 
 
 
 inn 
 
 3 
 S4 
 
 "■■46' 
 
 00 
 30 
 
 16 
 32 
 
 40 
 36 
 77 
 9 
 
 
 
 
 Third ■Wednesday in Feb. 
 
 ini 
 
 
 
 
 
 in" 
 
 3 years.. 
 2 to 4 yrs. 
 
 400 
 
 
 
 October 1. 
 
 im 
 
 
 
 
 104 
 
 
 
 
 
 105 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 inn 
 
 
 2 to 4 yra. 
 2 to 4 JTS. 
 
 
 
 
 
 inv 
 
 20 
 80 
 
 "iio' 
 
 20 
 190 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 lOR 
 
 
 
 
 
 mo 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 iin 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 3 years.. 
 
 600 
 
 8,000-10,000 
 
 50 00 
 
 Last week &> Joda 
 
 111 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 11" 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 
 2 years. . 
 
 
 
 
 
 114 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 S9 OB 
 
488 
 
 STATISTICAL TABLES. 
 
 
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EEPOET OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 489 
 
 Estimated tme 
 value of real 
 and personal 
 property iu 
 tho State. 
 
 
 
 
 g 
 1 
 
 
 
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 its" 
 
 
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 o 
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 g 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Assessed valua- 
 tion of real 
 and personal 
 
 pro 1 erty in 
 tho State. 
 
 
 
 
 § 
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 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 
 
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 ?l 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 THE DEVELOPMENT OF RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS IN THE UNITED STATES, 
 
 UNDER THE VOLUNTARY SYSTEM OF EQUAL RELIGIOUS RIGHTS 
 
 TO ALL, WITHOUT STATE PREFERENCES OR STATE 
 
 SUPPORT TO ANY FORM OF FAITH. 
 
 A condensed summary of the origin, rise, progress, growth, doctrines, and 
 present condition of each reHgious sect and denomination in the United 
 States, explaining, from the writinga of each, the points in which they 
 differ from the others, and giving the localities in which they are most 
 numerous. To which is added the progress and present condition of each 
 denomination in the education of the ministry, in denominational or 
 sectarian schools, in Sunday schools, in the number and elegance of their 
 houses of worship, and in the support of Home and Foreign Missions, 
 Bible, Tract, and Publication Societies, and other benevolent and charitable 
 institutions, entirely devoid of sectarianism. 
 
The Gro^wtli and Progress of Eeligions Denominations 
 in the United States for the past Hundred Years. 
 
 The religious character of the Colonies in 
 1770, was substantially that vvhicli liad been 
 imposed on thera at the time of their lirst 
 settlement, and was of necessity very tliverse 
 in ditl'erent sections. Massachusetts and 
 Connecticut, (or rather the ditf'erent colonies 
 which iiad united under these names) had been 
 founded liy the Puritans or Indejiendents, 
 Beceders fiom tlie Ciuirch of England, wlio 
 had organized sometimes as independent 
 cliurclies during the reigns of .James I. and 
 Charles I. Tliese were, in 1770, the pre- 
 dominant churches — '■ the standing order," 
 as they were termed, and the e,-tabiished re- 
 ligious body of the colonies, though Episco- 
 palians, Baptists, a few Metliodists, a' d a 
 considerable number of " Sef)aratrs " were 
 tolerated, and by " signing otr'" or avowing 
 themselves adherents to one or tlie otlier of 
 these denominations, and pledging them- 
 pelves to sustain it, their ecclesiastical taxes 
 could be, in part, remitted. The '' Sepa- 
 rates" were mainly converts under the 
 preaching of Whitfield and his followers in 
 174ii-5(», who were opposed to an estab- 
 lished church, and believed in the voluntary 
 sysiem. Maine was largely set' led from 
 Massachusetts, and followed its lead in re- 
 ligious matters. New Hampshire had two 
 distinct religious elements in its early set- 
 tlement — the Puritan or Con^jregational — 
 and the Presbyterian, represented by the 
 Protestant Irish settlers of several of its 
 towns. At the period we sjieak of there was 
 a larger measure of toleration of other de- 
 nominations there than in Massachusetts. 
 Khoile Island iiad been settled by Baptists 
 driven from Massachusetts a hundred and 
 forty y ars before, on account of their avow- 
 al of their religious belief. It was the only 
 one of the New England colonies in winch, 
 even at that time (1770.) there was complete 
 liberty of conscience, and is population were 
 of all denominations. Baptists, Quakers, Sep- 
 ar.it(!s. Independents, Presbyterians, Epi~(-o- 
 palians. Koman Catholics, Filth Monarchy 
 Men, etc., etc Vermont, or " New Hamp- 
 
 shire Grants," was not an independent State 
 till after the Revolution, and its few inhab- 
 itants were of all shades of religious belief, 
 or of none, at this time. New York, origi- 
 nally settled by the Dutch, liad had the Re- 
 formed Dutch or Holland Church for iis es- 
 tablished church till 1G84, but after its con- 
 quest by the English the church of England 
 had in turn become the established religion, 
 and under some of the colonial governors, 
 Presbyterians, Baptists, and Quakers were 
 persecuted and imprisoned. Ihis persecu- 
 tion had, however, cea'^ed some years before 
 this period, and though the Episcopal church 
 was still the state church, its prestige waned 
 subsequently during the years of the revolu- 
 tion, from the fact that, in that co!ony, the 
 greater part of its members were tories, and 
 sympathizers with the British. The Pres- 
 byterians were considerably numerous in 
 New York, the Baptists and Methodists le s 
 so, and there were a few Roman Catholics. 
 
 Pennsylvania had been settled by the 
 Quaker Penn, for a refuge for the sorely 
 persecuted Quakers of England and Amer- 
 ica, but it was open to all denominations, and 
 to those who had no religious beliefs. The 
 Quakers or Friends were predominant in 
 numbers, but Episcopalians, Presbyti'rians, 
 Baptists, Methodists, Lutherans, and Roman 
 Catholics, w( re all received cordially. 
 
 New Jersey and Delaware had a moder- 
 ate S\vedi,~h and Danish (Lutheran) ele- 
 ment, but the former had a much larger con- 
 stituency of Iri-h Presbyterians, and was, 
 before the Revolution, probably the most 
 thoroughly Presljyieriiui colony of the whole 
 thirteen. There was not, however, at this 
 time, so far as we can learn, anything like 
 an esiablished church in the colony. 
 
 Mar^'land wiis founded and settled by 
 Lord Bahimore and his kinsmen, tlie Cal- 
 verts and Carrolls, all of them Roman Cath- 
 olics; but to their honor, be it said, there 
 was comiilete religious toleration from the 
 fir~t, and in 1770 the Catholics had but a 
 slight majoJ'ity among the inhabitants ; stUI 
 
RULIOIOL3 DliSUMINATIO.NS. 
 
 493 
 
 it was the predominant faitli of the people of 
 the colony. 
 
 Virginia, settled by the younger sons of 
 the English nobility and their friends at fir.-t, 
 and its popnlation subsequently largely in- 
 creased by tlie great number of" redeniption- 
 ers," (paupers, convicts, etc., sent over and 
 sold for a term oi years to pay for their pass- 
 age.) had up to the commencement of the 
 Revolution, recognized the church of Eng- 
 land as the established church of the colony, 
 and at times had persecuted sharply other 
 denominations. Through the iuHuence of 
 such men as Patrick Henry, Thomas Jeffer- 
 son, and others, who, though not religious 
 men themselves, yet saw the necessity for re- 
 ligious liberty, that principle was incorpo- 
 rated in its first constitution as a State. 
 
 North Carolina and South Carolina were 
 settled largely by Protestant Irish (Presby- 
 terians,) Huguenots (Protestant Reformed 
 Church,) Mora\ians, and other Germans, 
 mostly Protestant ; their constitutions and 
 charters were favorable to religious liberty. 
 
 Georgia, the youngest of the colonies, was 
 largely settled by the followers of Whitfield 
 and Wesley, and was, moreover, a refuge for 
 persecuted Protestant.s from the states of 
 continental P^urope. The largest religious 
 liberty existed here from the fii'st. 
 
 Such was the religious, or rather denomi- 
 national history of the thirteen colonies when 
 they came together by their representatives 
 in the Continental Congress. Every form 
 of christian belief then known, had its ad- 
 herents in one colony or another. Most of 
 them assimilated to a considerable extent 
 by their years of intercourse during the war, 
 abolished all restrictions on complete relig- 
 ious liberty (where any existed) before the 
 adoption of the constitution, but Massachu- 
 setts and Connecticut retaiued theirs till the 
 adoption of new and revised constitutions in 
 the early part of the present century. It is 
 to be said in their favor, however, that these 
 restrictions were not, after the revolution, so 
 sevi're or onerous as those under which the 
 dissenters in England groan to-day. 
 
 Meanwhile there had grown up a second 
 t'er of States beyond the AUeghanies, which 
 were now knocking for admission to the Union. 
 What were the religious denominations to 
 be found in tliese ? In general, we may an- 
 swer, that they were the same with those of 
 the States from which most of their inhabit- 
 ants had come. Thus Ohio, settled largely 
 
 from New England, especially in its north- 
 ern half, had a predominance of Congrega- 
 tionalists, with some Methodists and Bap- 
 tists in that section, and in the southern por- 
 tion which was peopled from Peimsylvania 
 and Virginia, a large proportion of Presby- 
 terians, Lutherans, Quakers, and many Ger- 
 man Methodists, with some Episcopalians 
 and Baptists. Kentucky and Tennessee had 
 at this time more of the Presbyterian ele- 
 ment, modified by the great awakening of 
 1801-2 to the Cumberland Presbyterian 
 creed, while Baptists and Methodists alike 
 were gaining the affections of large numbers 
 of the people. A few years later otiiei- forms 
 of faith made great inroads into the ranks 
 of the older denominations. Alabama, set- 
 tled mostly from Georgia and Tennessee, 
 though with some admixture of northern 
 men, drawn thither by its commercial fixcili- 
 ties, had many representatives of most of the 
 older denominations, but did not in its early 
 hi-tory give much heed to the apostles of new 
 faiths. The purchase of Louisiana in 1803, 
 added a considerable Catholic element to the 
 religious population of the country, not only 
 in Louisiana proper, but in Mississippi, and in 
 the states and territories subsequently organ- 
 ized west of the Mississippi. In fact there 
 were scattered Catholic churches in all the 
 French and Spanish forts and trading sta- 
 tions throughout the northwest, and these, 
 though very feeble and widely scattered, 
 served as nucki for moie extensive establish- 
 ments as the country was settled. Detroit, 
 Michigan ; Vincennes, Indiana ; Vandalia, 
 Kaskaskia, and Joliet, Illinois ; two or three 
 points in Wisconsin, and as many in Illinois, 
 St. Louis, and some other points in Missouri, 
 Bardstown, Kentucky, and missions in Ar- 
 kansas and Kansas, indicate how zealously 
 the French Catholic priests had planted their 
 outposts throughout the Mississippi valley. As 
 yet, however, the Catholics were not strong 
 anywhere in the United States, and it was not 
 until immigration commenced on a large scale 
 from Ireland and Germany that they attain- 
 ed to a prominent position among the religious 
 denominations of the country. The German 
 immigration, as well as that at a later date from 
 Sweden and Norway, also largely increased 
 the number of Lutheran and German Reform- 
 ed churches, and that from England, Scotland, 
 and the north of Ireland, enured mainly to 
 the benefit of the Presbyterians, and Meth' 
 odists, though a minority were Baptists. 
 
494 
 
 RELIGIOUS DKNOMINATIONS. 
 
 Several denominations, some ot them now 
 among the larger religions bodies of the 
 country, have either originated here or 
 had their principal development in the 
 United States. The first of these in the 
 order of time was the Shakers, or followers 
 of Mother Ann Lee. This noted religious 
 leader was born and lived for many years in 
 England, and claimed to have received her 
 first and principal revelations there ; but she 
 had not a score of adherents when she came 
 to the United States in 1774, and it was not 
 till about 1780 that >he had any considerable 
 number of disciples, and it was not till 1805 
 that the societie-; of the Shakers were estab- 
 lished at any great distance from their first 
 center, Watervliet. The disciples, or fol- 
 lowers of Alexander Campbell, were first 
 organized as a distinct body of christians 
 about 1810, luit did not increase very rapid- 
 ly till aliout IS.'jI. Tliey are now about in 
 the fifth or sixth r:\nk among the religious 
 denominations of the country. 
 
 The United Brethren in Christ, (not Mo- 
 ravians, but German iMethodists.) date back 
 to 17GU, wlien Ouerbein and Bochm com- 
 menced their missionary labors ; but their 
 principal de\'elopment has taken place during 
 the present century. 
 
 Tlie ]\Iormons organized their first com- 
 munity or church hi 1831, though the pro- 
 fessed revelations of Joseph Smith date some 
 years earlier. Various methods of classifi- 
 cation of religious and irreligious societies 
 have been altem|)ted, but all of them are 
 liable to some objection. The most com- 
 mon classification is tliat of Roman Catholics, 
 Protestants, Infidels or Unbelievers in Chris- 
 tianity, and I'agans. This answers well 
 enough for a generic division, but when we 
 come to a minute clas ification we find a 
 diificuky. The Roman Catholics, though 
 divided into several orders or societies which 
 are more or less hostile to eacii other, such 
 as Jesuits, Dominicans, Franciscans, Bene- 
 dictines, Paulists, Lazari-ts. etc., have yet 
 this common bond of union that they all ac- 
 knowledge allegiance to the I'ope, while 
 Protestants, however we may classify them, 
 will haidly come under any strict rule of 
 division. One clas ilication is into Trinita- 
 rians and Anti-Trinitai ians ; but to this it 
 may be objected that neither party are whol- 
 ly Protestant, the Roman Catholics being 
 'I'rinilariaus as well as most of the Protest- 
 ants, and a part of the Ba;itists, and a por- 
 
 tion of the Anglican churches, denying that 
 they are Protestants, as do likewise some of 
 the Anti-Trinitarians. This division is Uable 
 to the furtlier olijection that it arrays a very 
 large body of religionists on one side against 
 a comp.arative handful on the other. 
 
 The division into Orthodox and Heterodox, 
 is liable to the objection that there is no uni- 
 versally recognized standard of Orthodoxy, 
 and to call a man Heterodox because his 
 belief on all points was not the same with 
 that of some other man would be invidious. 
 The division into Evangelical and Unevan- 
 gelical is equally objectionable on the ground 
 of its indefinitenes*, with the added difficulty 
 that it would divide two denominations, the 
 Anglican churches and the Unitarians, a 
 part of each claiming and receivuig the title 
 of Evangelical, and the other part rejecting 
 it. The division of the denominations into 
 Calvinisls and Arminians is perhaps as fair 
 as any, though several denominalions have 
 both classes in their membership. That into 
 Baptists and Paedobaptists is faulty lecau e, 
 though no Baptist, i. e. Immersionist, is a 
 Paedobaptist, that is, an advocate for the bap- 
 tism of infants, yet many Paedobaptists 
 occasionally practice immersion, as tor exam- 
 ple, the INlethudists, the Congregationalists, 
 iind the Episcopalians. It is liable to another 
 ditlieulty, viz., that some of the organizations 
 not reputed Christian, such as the Mormons, 
 practice immersion. 
 
 In the attempted subdivision of the Infidel 
 or unbelieving class, we are met with still 
 greater diflicullies. The Deist, especially, if 
 an Israelite, and a believer in the Old Tes- 
 tament scriptures, will object strenuously to 
 be ranked with the scejitic whose only God 
 is nature, ai;d whose highest hope for the 
 future is in annihilation, or with the Comtist 
 who recognizes no divinity of greater knowl- 
 edge or power than himself, or the Atlieist, 
 who believes that all things are the result of 
 chance. Between these extremes there are 
 an infinitude of opinions, no two of winch 
 can be reconciled with each other, even to 
 the extent of a common classification. Of 
 Paganism there are but comparatively few 
 representatives — the Indian tribes in the 
 West, the Chinese, who seem to be in about 
 equal proportions, Buddhists, Sintuists, and 
 followers of Confucius, the Alaskan Inilians, 
 and Esquimaux, whose religion seems akin 
 to Shamanism, the small colonies of Japanese, 
 (Buddhists) and the traces of Fetictism found 
 
RELIGIOUS DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 495 
 
 in the more ignorant and supertitious of the 
 Southern negroes. 
 
 Tlie following table exhibits as accurately 
 as they can be obtained from official and 
 other sources, the statistics of the various 
 religious and irreligious sects in the United 
 States, as reported at or near the close of 
 
 1870. The denominations have been taken 
 generally in the order of their membership ; 
 but the smaller churches which affiliate with 
 the larger ones in their doctrines and ordi- 
 nances, have been considered in the sam& 
 connection, in preference to a rigid classifica- 
 tion on the basis of number of members. 
 
 ■aoijBUitnonaQ aqj 
 
 JO Sf-UJipo 
 
 coo?! MM COCOt^ 
 
 NiOCOiOrH CI COt^ »OiOO 
 
 ■uotjuairaon^Q aq^ 
 
 JO Hoijuuimsj,' pat 
 
 ■So[ooqj, pau 60iJa[iO3 
 
 •uoijBoiuTOnapjo 
 ]oj;aoo Jdpnn sau'en 
 -mag puB saiinapEov 
 
 ■jBa.C aqj 3aunp diqs 
 -jaqraan O} suoiiippv 
 
 Ol i-HiOCO t-'* 
 
 DJOO O^t^ »0 t-l'-OOiOiO kO 
 
 11 g'l'^" 
 
 t-H ClMt~ r- ■-' I- 
 
 f-H t— o: CO r- 1 C t- 
 
 00 l- O I- (M = 
 
 <MMr-« i-l 
 
 ■SJ'BlOqDg 
 
 jooqog jCBpimg 
 
 
 
 COM 1-1 
 
 •siooqog X^pang 
 
 CO -^ 
 
 s a 
 
 ■sasodjnj qojnqQ 
 
 puB 
 
 spafqQ ^naioAauaa 
 
 o^ sao!jnqu)uo3 
 
 JO oni^x 
 
 rH CD 
 
 C-1 o 
 
 i-*CO 
 
 •^OO 
 
 l^ I- --c 
 
 CO — 
 
 T-Tio" 
 
 CIQC CO 
 M I' i-O 
 
 SSI 
 
 
 Ol COOXM 
 
 M l-tl- 
 
 sss 
 
 -= - 3 a 
 
 ;J;S 
 
 
 O O OOC: O 
 
 S g?.= S3 
 
 CO CJOW 
 
 •saqsuBfl JO 
 
 'saot4i^3j3ao3 
 
 saqojnq,"! JO sjaqmaj^ 
 
 co"t-I" 
 
 ri t- od «:«3 
 
 CO Cl-*^ 
 
 ^»o 
 
 CO o 
 
 3 CO i-H ■*•-'—■ 
 
 ji:iS5 
 
 •saDgipa H^Jnqo 
 
 M 
 
 COM -^ 
 
 I- OD -r> lO ff! O "* 
 
 rH C-1 1— cv -r lO r— 
 
 l-T ci" iM^COrn" i-T 
 
 
 •saqsuBj JO 
 
 'saoijB3 
 
 -aoSao.") 'saqojnqo 
 
 M — C lO CO 'X- x> 
 I- lO -J :-i -^ ac I- 
 
 Of'-' L- -r ^ 
 
 C^ -O -I)* O ■+ I- 
 
 cf ei" c-fco^r-T 
 
 ■o:^ 'suopnpossy 
 sauoj.fqsaj^ 'epoa^S 
 sajuajojuo ' soso^otg 
 
 ^ a 
 
 ir; O — O 1- 
 
 I— cr » 
 
 oco 
 
 oxo 
 
 fZ -^ ic 
 
 
 
 
 
 w-*--- 
 
 l-OiO 
 
 CO :r- C'l o 
 CO coo 
 
 C5M rH 
 
 ■edoqsiai IgS^S 
 
 '^(Tnu^IiinUV' ' 
 
 
 E^ 
 
 ; o S3 ii i: 
 
 
 . 3 (S S 
 
 |a£.| 
 
 
 
 .2 H aj 
 
 », a. 14 P -^ ei 
 
 
 fc d ^ "5 — c '5 ^ -r .i 'K S 
 CP P pp;^aS K 
 
 ; fe c a 
 
CHAPTER 11. 
 
 mSTORT AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 I. ROMAN CATHOLICS. The adher- 
 ents of the Roman Church in the United States 
 were, as we have already seen, just before 
 the American Revohition, except in Mary- 
 land, but a very small proportion of the pop- 
 ulation. They had small congregations in 
 New York, Philadeljjhia, and perhaps, two 
 or three other large towns. In Baltimore, 
 they were the leading denomination, and in 
 several towns of Maryland they had congre- 
 gations. In sections which soon alter came 
 into the Union as states or organized terri- 
 tories, their congregations were scattered 
 somewhat widely. In North Eastern Maine, 
 the Arcadian settlers, mostly French or of 
 French extraction, were generally devout 
 Catholics ; and a few priests with their flocks 
 were found along the northern line of New 
 England and New York. Detroit had a 
 very considerable Catholic element in its 
 population from the first ; and farther west, 
 at several points in Illmois, Wisconsin, Iowa, 
 and especially in Missouri and below in the 
 Mississippi Valley, among the French and 
 Creole population of Louisiana Territory, 
 churches and cathedrals were comparatively 
 numerous. Farther west, in Texas and 
 California, as well as in Mexico, New Mex- 
 ico, and Arizona, all at this time under the 
 control of Spain, and subsequently of the 
 Mexican Repulilic, Catholicism had been for 
 two centuries the established religion of the 
 state, and Indians, Mexicans, and Spaniards 
 of the pure blood were alike, nominally at 
 least, enrolled among its numbers. The 
 missions, churches and cathedrals, many of 
 them in ruins, which dot the prairies and 
 oases of the vast territory acipiired by the 
 war of 1846, show that in former times, a 
 very considerable, though mainly a native 
 population was subservient to this faith. It 
 was not, however, till after 1820, when the 
 vast tide of immigration from Ireland and 
 from Catholic Germany, with its occasional 
 additions from France, Italy, and Spain, 
 
 began to flow in upon us, that the Roman 
 Catholic church assumed anything like its 
 present proportional magnitude. Its out- 
 posts were indeed already planted, and it 
 had its centers of influence, its mmc/c/ around 
 which it could gather its incoming hosts. 
 But prior to 1820, it proliably rankeil in the 
 number of its communicants not higher than 
 fourth or fifth among the religious denomi- 
 nations of the country. It is stated on good 
 authority (that of a Roman Catholic arch- 
 bishop), that more than five millions of Cath- 
 olic emigrants have landed ujwn our shores 
 since 1820. Of course many of them have 
 apostatized ; many more have died, and their 
 children have been reared in other faiths, or 
 in no faith at all. In these ways only can 
 we account for the fact attested by the high- 
 est Roman Catholic authority, that their 
 communicants do not to-day numljer o\er 
 3,500,1)00. Their clergy have not been want- 
 ing in zeal or fidelity to their faith ; and no 
 denomination in the country has provided so 
 well or so promijtly for the maintenance of 
 religious worship as they. They have not 
 been persecuted for their faith, or their num- 
 bers would be larger; but there has been 
 on the part of immigrants a strong disposi- 
 tion, on coming to this country, to throw off 
 all religious restraints under the impression 
 that this was one of the requisites of national 
 freedom. 
 
 Wit!) this brief sketch of its history, we 
 proceed to give the leading doctrines of the 
 Koman Catholic Church, stating them in 
 this case, as we shall in that of all the other 
 denominations, in the exact language of their 
 own ablest and most representative writers, 
 as the only course which will render strict jus- 
 tice to each denominaiion. The late Arch- 
 bishop Kenrick of Baltimore.one of the ablest 
 writers and most accomplished scholars of 
 the Roman Church, thus states its doctrines : 
 "The chief doctrines of the Church regard 
 the unity of the divine nature iu thiee dis- 
 (49G) 
 
UISTllltV AND PROGRESS OF TtlE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 497 
 
 tiiict divine persons, and the incarnation of 
 the second divine person, through the m3's- 
 terious o|)eratioiis of the Holy Spirit in the 
 Virgin Mary, and his death on the cross for 
 the expiation of tlie sins of manliind. The 
 helivf of thf. incarnation is the ground and 
 inutive of tlu higli veneration wliicli is enter- 
 tained for the Virgin, who is styled Motlier of 
 God, because Clirist her son is God incarn- 
 ate." (Since tlie death of Ab'p Kenrick, the 
 dogma of the Immaculate Conception of the 
 Virgin Mary, regarding her as born as free 
 from sin as Chri-t himself, has been pro- 
 claimed by the Pope as a fundamental doc- 
 trine of the church.) " To her is ascribed 
 all sanctity and perfection which can be 
 bestowed on a mere creature, and she is held 
 to have been free from all stain of sin by a 
 .special iirivilege granted her, tiiat she might 
 be worthy of the dignity for which she was 
 (.livinely t'hoseii. The mystery of the re- 
 dcni[)tion is prominent in the teaching and 
 worsliii) of ilie church. Christ suffered and 
 died, as man, to atone for the sins of our first 
 parents, and the sins of all mankind. His 
 death fully expiated the guilt of sin, and 
 ])re<euted an atonement in every respect per- 
 fect. Yet all men are not justified and 
 saved, but those only to whom the redemp- 
 tion is applied l)y means divinely prescribed. 
 IJaptism is believed to be a remedy for orig- 
 inal sin, applicable even to infants. Adulis 
 having the use of reason must believe in } 
 Christ and repent of sin, in order to receive 
 the benetit of the atonement. From those 
 who iiave forfeited baptismal grace, frui;s of 
 penance are required as evidences of their 
 sincere conversion to God, and as conthtions 
 to entitle them to the application of the mer- 
 iis of Christ. Nothing that man can do, can 
 take away the guilt of siu, or prove an ade- 
 quate satisfaction for it; but God requires 
 the humiliation of the sinner, and accepts his 
 penitential works, wliich derive value from 
 the random offered by Christ. They add 
 nothing to it, but they become acceptable 
 through it. Christ is the spiritual Mediator 
 through whose blood we must sue for par- 
 don and salvation. The worship of the 
 church is given to God only — the one Eter- 
 nal Being in the three divine persons — and 
 the incarnate Word, God consubstantial to 
 the Father. Inferior religious honor, which 
 may be called worsiiip in a qualified sense, 
 is given to the Virgin Mary, on account of 
 the gifts and graces with which God has 
 endowed her, and her exalted dignity as 
 30* 
 
 The angels, 
 reigning with 
 
 i Mother of God incarnate, 
 namely, incorporeal spirits 
 I God, are honored as his creatures, in whom 
 his perfections are reflected, and his messen- 
 gers through whom he has manifested liis 
 wiU. Saints, those who have proved faith- 
 I ful in the divine service to the end, and are 
 ' already crowned with glory in the kingdom 
 of God, are venerated likewise for their tri- 
 umphant virtue ; the martyrs especially, who 
 died amid torments rather than deny Christ, 
 and the virgins, who throughout life pre- 
 served the purity of their affections, are 
 deemed worthy of high honor. But there is 
 an essential difference between the honor 
 given to the creatures of God, and that 
 which belongs to God alone. He receives 
 the submission of tlie understanding and the 
 will, the homage of the affoctious. He is 
 acknowledged to be the essential Being, the 
 supreme Lord, the beginning and the end of 
 all things. Sacrifice is gi\en to him only. 
 Prayer, in its strict accept;)tion, can be offer- 
 ed to him only, the Giver of every good gifl. 
 Grace and salvation depend upon his bounty 
 and mercy. Litanies and prayers to the 
 saiiits are only appeals to them to intercede 
 with God for us through Jesus Christ. They 
 are not supposed to be omniscient or omni- 
 present ; but they know, in God, the pious 
 desires as well as the penitential sighs of the 
 fai.h.ul. Respect is paid to the crucifix, 
 which rec;ills to our mind the sufferings of 
 Christ for our redemption, but it does not ter- 
 minate in the symbol or material object. The 
 kissing of the image, the liending of the knee, 
 the prostration of the body in the ceremonial of 
 Good Friday, are all directed to Christ, our 
 Redeemer. So the images of the saints 
 awake the remembrance of their virtues. 
 The bowing of the head to a statue, or the 
 burning of incense before a shrine, is refer- 
 red to the saint whose memory is honored 
 for ills love of God and his zeal for the 
 divine glory. Relics, that is objects used by 
 the saints, or particles of their remains, are 
 venerated for the relation they bear to them. 
 The fall of the first parents of the human 
 race is the fundamental doctrine on wiiich ihe 
 belief of the mystery of redemption depends. 
 . . . . Orisrinal sin is that transgression 
 which is common to the whole human fam- 
 ily, each one being estranged from God, and 
 liable to his wrath, in consequence of the act 
 of the heads of the r:»ce. The natural pow- 
 ers have been weakened by the fall. The 
 freedom of the human will remains, but it is 
 
498 
 
 HISTORr AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFPERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 less vigorous than in our first parents. Our 
 nature is not vitiated and dejiendent, but it 
 i^ prone to evil and exposed to violent temp- 
 tation A Redeemer was given 
 
 us, in the person of Christ, who, being God- 
 man, atoned by his sufferings for the sin of 
 our first parents, and merited for us all grace 
 by wiiich temptation may be overcome. 
 Actual sin is-the willful transgression of the 
 divine law by individuals having the use of 
 r'-ason. Mortal sin is any act, speech, desire, 
 or tliought grievously opposed to the natural 
 or divine law. Sins which imply no direct 
 or grievous opposition to the law of God, are 
 styled venial, because their pardon is easily 
 obtained, since they do not separate the soul 
 from God. Sliglit impatience, rash words, 
 vain self-comiilaeeney, may be venial. De- 
 liberate hatred, gioss cahimny, acts of vio- 
 lence, not to speak of drunkeiniess. lust, and 
 murder, are mortal sins. The distinction of 
 sins is not derived from the individual who 
 commits .them, although they may be aggra- 
 vated by his pcrsoiuxl obligations. Forgive- 
 ness of sins, even the most heinous, is prom- 
 ised to the penitent. Sorrow for having com- 
 mitted them is a necessary disposition in order 
 to obtain it. Perfect sorrow, wiiich is called 
 contrition, springs from divine love, and 
 leads us to detest sin as opposed to the good- 
 ness of God and to his eternal perfection. 
 Attrition, is sorrow of a less perfect kind, 
 arising from an experiiMice of the evil conse- 
 quences of sin, and the dread of tlie punish- 
 ments winch await it hereafter. If it wean 
 the heart from sin, and inspire an effectual 
 detestation of it, so as to be accompanied 
 with a firm resolution of amendment, it is 
 iield to be useful and sahitary, and such as 
 may disjiose for pardon in the sacrament of 
 
 ])enance The forgiveness of 
 
 .sin projierly belongs to God, who is offended. 
 Christ, as God-man, forgave sin, and author- 
 ized the apostles to impart forgiveness or 
 withhold it. The power is judicial, since 
 they may bind or loose, retain or forgive ; 
 on which account a confession of sin is re- 
 quired from every applicant for its exercise. 
 When this is made witli sincerity, humility, 
 sorrow, a willingness to repair the wrong 
 committed, and a <letermination to shun the 
 occasions of sin, the priest absolves tiie pen- 
 itent. This absolution is a judicial sentence, 
 deriving its force from the divine institution. 
 The sacraments (seven in iuiml)er) are rites 
 instituted by Christ our Lord, as instru- 
 ments and means of grace to apply to our 
 
 souls the merits of his sufTerings and death. 
 They are said to contain and confer grace, 
 technically ex opere operate, because they are 
 effi'ctual means divinely chosen to impart it, 
 where no obstacle is presented by the re- 
 ceiver. Certain dispositions, however, are 
 required on the part of adults who desire to 
 partake of them. Faith and compunction 
 are necessary on the part of the applicant 
 for baptism. Sorrow, with a firm purpose of 
 amendment, is required from the professed 
 penitent, in the sacrament o( penance. The 
 strengthening grace of the Holy Spirit is 
 granted, by the laying on of hands with 
 prayer, to the baptized believer, whose heart 
 is free from willful sin. Sin is forgiven to 
 the dying man who with penitence and hope 
 receives the mystic unction, and for whom 
 the pra)'er of faith is oflTered up. The impo- 
 sition of hands is available for the communi- 
 cation of sacerdotal power, even to the 
 unworthy candidate, but grace is given to 
 him who is called by God, and who with 
 humility corresponds to the divine vocation. 
 Marriage is a great mystery, the image of 
 the union of Christ and the Church, to be 
 celebrated with purity ot affection. The 
 Eucharist, the chief sacrament, is to be ap- 
 proached with hearts cleansed from sin, 
 under penalty of becoming guilty of the body 
 and blood of the Lord, and incurring con- 
 demnation 
 
 It is not easy to reconcile the exercise of 
 free will with the divine foresight. We can- 
 not understand how it is possible for us to 
 act independently, and of our own determin- 
 ation, when God has foreseen our action. 
 It is sufficient to know and feel our freedom, 
 without sounding the depths of divine knowl- 
 e<lge. It suffices then to admit that without 
 the grace of Christ we can do nothing, and 
 to hold that we can do all things in Ilim 
 who strengthens us. Everlasting lieatitude, 
 consisting in the contemplation and enjoy- 
 ment of God, is the reward promised by 
 Iliin on condition of the fulfilment of Ilis 
 commandments, and bestowed gratuitously on 
 baptized infants or others incapable of per- 
 sonal acts. The punishment of grievous sin 
 is eternal. Impenitent sinners are forever 
 separated from God, and suflfer torments. 
 Those who die guilty of slight faults or debt- 
 ors to divine justice, are withiield for a time 
 from tlie enjoyment of Heaven (and suff^er 
 the pains of purgatory). The glory of 
 heaven is immediately attained by baptized 
 infants dying before the use of reason, by 
 
HISTOUT AND PROGRESS OP THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 adults dying immediately after baptism, by 
 niai-tyrs, and by all who die with perfect 
 love of God, and free from sin or debt of 
 j)iuiisliment. The soul onlj' is admitted to 
 happiness. The body is subject to dissolu- 
 tion, but is to be raised at the end of time, 
 in order to be reunited to the soul, and made 
 partaker of her glory. 
 
 The teaching of Christ our Lord, becomes 
 known to us especially by the preaching of 
 the ministry, tracing back their commission 
 to the apostles. Solemn definitions of faith 
 are the most authoritative forms of this 
 preaching. They are declarations not mere- 
 ly of doctrines contained in the written 
 word, but of revealed truths, whether writ- 
 ten or unwritten. Christ himself left noth- 
 ing in writing ; several of his apostles wrote 
 much, and two other sacred writers com- 
 posed narratives of his life and teaching ; 
 but many things belong to the deposit of doc- 
 trine which were not explicitly placed on 
 record. The body of bishops feel themselves 
 authorized to propose as revealed (ruth 
 whatever has come down from the beginning 
 in the church, and been generall}' acknowl- 
 edged to appertain to doctrine. Li cases of 
 difficulty, when (loubts have been raised with 
 regard to some tenet, they feel themselves 
 competent to examine the evidence, and 
 decide whether the doctrine has been re- 
 vealed. After a definition, it is no longer 
 allowed to question a truth sealed with their 
 approval. Infallibility in judgment is claim- 
 ed for the body of bishops with their head, 
 the bishop (pope) of Rome. (The infallibil- 
 ity of the pope was declared one of the car- 
 dinal doctrines of the Roman Catholic 
 Ciuu-ch by the Council of Rome in 1870 — 
 71.) By the infallibility in judgment of the 
 bishops, is meant the providential guidance 
 of the Holy Spirit, by which they are direc- 
 ted and enlightened in doctrinal decisions, 
 that they may not mistake error for truth or 
 propose as divinely revealed what wants the 
 seal of divine authority. The tribunal of 
 the pope is universally acknowledged (in the 
 Roman Catholic church) as competent to 
 pronounce judgment in controversies which 
 regard faith, and its decrees, directed to the 
 body of bishops or to the church at large, 
 proposing doctrines under penalty of excom- 
 munication, when acquiesced in by the bish- 
 ops, are final and irreversible. 
 
 The Church accepts the Divine Scriptures 
 is the word of inspiration, written under the 
 impulse of the Spirit of God, and to be re- 
 
 ceived with all faith and veneration. 1 
 the books of the Old Testament, accordu 
 to the Jewish Canon, she adds certain othi 
 books (usually known as the Apocrypha) < 
 ancient testimony, usage, and tradition d 
 rived from the apostles. The books of tl 
 New Testament included in the Canon, ai 
 those adot)ted as inspired by the Council 
 Trent. Tlie Church claims the supren 
 authority of determining the meaning of tl 
 Scriptures, in conformity with the gener: 
 teaching of the fathers, that is, the anciei 
 Christian writers. Faith, according to ll 
 Roman Catholic view, is the assent of tl 
 human mind to divine truth as it is propose 
 and attested by the church of God. Tl 
 truth must be revealed, and it must be pr( 
 pounded by the church. Faith is necessar 
 to salvation, so that without it, it is imposs 
 ble to please God. The wanton and prou 
 rejection of a single point of revealed doi 
 trine involves shipwreck of faith. Henci 
 the plea of invincible ignorance is the onl 
 one which Roman Catholic divines admit f 
 of any avail in behalf of those who rejec 
 any of the doctrines which the Church hs 
 propounded as revealed, and only God ca 
 determine with certainty the individual fc 
 whom such plea may be available. All baj 
 tized children are claimed by the church i 
 her o^vn, since baptism is the sacrament ( 
 regeneration, and they continue such unt 
 by their willful profession of condemne 
 error they forfeit their birthright. The prii 
 ciples of the Catholic Church with regard t 
 civil duties, are highly conservative. Sh 
 feels bound to respect established authority 
 and enforce, by moral suasion, obedience t 
 those in high station, and she uses every f 
 occasion to insinuate the axiom, that religio 
 is the only sure basis and strong bond of secui 
 it}-. The duties of her members are deper 
 dent on the providential position in whic 
 they find themselves. They are to suppoi 
 law and order, and fiilfil faithfully ever 
 obligation to society. 
 
 By discipline, Catholics understand a] 
 that appertains to the government of th 
 Church, the administration of the sacrament 
 and the observance and practice of religion 
 The essential worship consists in the sacri 
 fice of the mass, which, although mystica 
 and commemorative, is real and propitiatory 
 beinff a continuation of the sacrifice of thi 
 cross. Vespers, or evenmg prayers, are sol 
 emnly sung, the psalms of Uavid, the sonj 
 of the Virgin Mary, and pious hymns ant 
 
500 
 
 niSTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 prayers being used. In the cathedral 
 churches, other portions of the diviiie office 
 are sung at various hours of each day, by 
 clergymen, called canons, devoted to this 
 duty. Numerous festivals are also cele- 
 brated to honor the divine mysteries and 
 present them to the devout contemplation of 
 the faithful. Many are solemnized in honor 
 of the Virgin Mary, the apostles, martyrs, 
 confessors, virgins, and saints of every class, 
 whose virtues are thus set before the faith- 
 ful for their imitation. Fasting is also a 
 part of church discipline. Forty days before 
 Easter (the Lenten Fast) are devoted to 
 this exercise. Ember days, viz., Wednes- 
 day, Friday, and Saturday, in each of the 
 four seasons, are observed as fasts to obtain 
 the divine blessing, and worthy ministers for 
 the church, ordinations being held at those 
 times. The eve of great solemnities is 
 observed by fasting, in order to prepare by 
 penance for their celebration. Abstinence 
 (from meat) is observed on each Friday of the 
 year, and in some dioceses, on Saturday also. 
 All these penitential observances are mat- 
 ters of church law, which admits of dispen- 
 sation. The rites of the mass, and the cere- 
 monies used in the administration of the sac- 
 raments, appertain to discipline, which ad- 
 mits of variety and change, although great 
 deference is shown for ancient usage. For 
 this reason, the Latin liturgy, used from 
 early times in the Roman church, is still 
 emploj'ed by liie celebrant, although instruc- 
 tions are given in the vernacular language, 
 and facilities are offered to the faithful for 
 praying in a manner suited to their capacity. 
 The changes which have been made are in 
 the manner of administering baptism, and 
 the Eucharist, and penitential discipline. 
 The solemn mode of baptism was originally 
 by immersion. The candidate used to 
 descend into fonts, or streams, or rivers, and 
 sink beneath the waters under the pressure 
 of the hands of the sacred minister. In cases 
 of necessity and danger, less solemn modes 
 were used, which, from being frequent at 
 length, after the lapse of ages, became uni 
 versal. In like maimer, the Eucharist, hav- 
 ing been instituted by our Lord under the 
 forms of bread and wine, was generally ad- 
 ministered under both kinds for many ages. 
 Exceptional cases were always admitted, 
 which at length proved so numerous as to 
 supersede altogether the ancient usage. The 
 church claims the right to regulate, at her 
 just discretion, whatever regards the manner 
 
 of ndministei'ing the sacraments, while she 
 holds their substance to be inviolable. The 
 change in regard to penance, has reference 
 mainly to the issue of indulgences, i. e. par- 
 dons for oSences justly liable to penitential 
 discipline. These, which were generally 
 plenary, were not directed to the forgiveness 
 of sin which needed the sacramental remedy, 
 but to the remission of the temporal punish- 
 ment, which was often exacted by divine jus- 
 tice from those whose sins had been par- 
 doned. They served as incentives to works 
 of piety, such as almsgiving, fasting, and 
 prayers. 
 
 The organization of the church consists in 
 its government by bishops, each in charge of 
 a special flock, with subordination oue to 
 another, and the dependence of all on the 
 bishoj) of Rome (the pope), as shepherd of 
 the whole fold of Christ. The Episcopal 
 character is the same in all bishops, but gov- 
 erning authority, which is called jurisdiction, 
 is possessed in various degrees — in its ful- 
 ness, by the pope, who is the fountain, the 
 streams of which flow to all others. He 
 alone has apostolic authority, wliich may be 
 everywhere exercised, with due regard to 
 the local prelate, and which is suited to every 
 emergency. Next to him, in governing 
 authority, are the cardinals, in whom, during 
 the vacancy of the Roman see, this plenitude 
 of jurisdiction is believed to reside. Each 
 bishop governs his own diocese, not as papal 
 vicar, but as ordinary or proper ruler, al- 
 though in some tilings his authority is en- 
 larged as delegate apostolic. Several dio- 
 ceses form a province which is governed by 
 an archbishop. Many ecclesiastical provin- 
 ces are sometimes united as a nation, under 
 a primate who ranks above other prelates. 
 The vicar apostolic is, in some sense, a mis- 
 sionary bishop. The general government of 
 the church is carried on at Rome, where the 
 pope is assisted by the body of cardinals, 
 several of whom compose standing commit- 
 tees to examine and prepare the matters for 
 final action. Nearly thirty belong to the 
 College of Propaganda, which is charged 
 with a general superintendence of missionary 
 countries. The appointment of bishops is 
 made on the recommendation of the local 
 prelates, with the advice of the cardinals. 
 
 The religious orders in the church are 
 like corporations in a civil government, hav- 
 ing special exemptions and privileges to 
 enable them successfully to pursue the objects 
 of their respective institutes. They derive 
 
HISTORY AXD PROGRESS OF THE DFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 501 
 
 these from the pope, who, in vu-tue of liis 
 apostolicnl .authority, exempts the members 
 fro:n the jurisdietion of tlie bishops in what 
 rcijiuxls their domestic discipline, but leaves 
 tliem dependent on them for faculties to be 
 exercised in behalf of the faithful. The 
 older religious orders of Europe all have 
 their houses here; the Benedictines, Domin- 
 icans, Franciscans, Carmelites, Augu-tini- 
 ans, Lazarits, and the followers of Loj-ola, 
 or, as they are often called, Jesuits. A new 
 religious order, that of St. Paul the apostle, 
 or as they are usually called, Pauli-ts, was 
 founded a few years since in New York, and 
 has been very eHicient in missionary labors. 
 There are also teaching orders, like the 
 Brothers of the Christian School-, and char- 
 itable orders of both sexes, like the Sisters 
 of Charity, Brothers and Sisters of the Sa- 
 cred Heart of .Jesus, Sisters of Mercy, Little 
 Sisters of the Poor. &c., &c. These charit- 
 able orders h ive effected much good in the 
 founding and management of schools, in vis- 
 iting the sick and prisoners, in managing 
 hospitals, reformatories, &c. Of late years, 
 the Roman Catholics have not only largely 
 increased their colleges, but have multiplied 
 their schools, claiming that their children 
 should be iusiructed in religions as well as in 
 secular knowledge. They have also estab- 
 lished many orphan asylums, reformatories, 
 and Magdalen asylums. 
 
 11. BAPTISTS. 
 
 I. Eegui-ar Baptists. The Baptist 
 churches of tiie Unittd States rank among 
 the most numerous and influential of the 
 evangelical religious denominations in the 
 country, and while generally either moderate 
 or strict, (but not high,) Calvinists in their 
 theology, and strictly congregational in their 
 church government, are di-tinguished from 
 other denominations holding to (Jalvinistic 
 doctrines and a congregational polity, by their 
 views on the mode and subjects of baptism. 
 They hold that immersion is the only true 
 mode of baptism, and a personal profession 
 of faith in Christ the necessary prerequisite 
 for every subject of that ordinance. 
 
 It is usually stated th.at Roger Williams, 
 the founder of the colony of Rhode Island, 
 was also the Ibunder of the Baptist denomi- 
 nation in the United Stat s. The statement 
 is hut partially true. Four years before 
 Williams's baptism, in 1635, Hansard Kuol- 
 
 lys, an English or rather Welsh. Baptis' 
 preacher, had emigrated to New England 
 with a portion of his flock and settled as a 
 pastor at Dover, New Hampshire, and though 
 he afterward returned to England, ins church 
 remained. Baptist sentiments were propa- 
 gated in the Rhode Island colony, liut much 
 more by John Clarke, a friend and associate 
 of Williams, than by Williams him-elf ; in- 
 deed, the latter, whose raemoi-y is de.-erving 
 of all honor for his noble defence and main- 
 tenance of complete libert}' of conscience, 
 held certain views in the latter part of his 
 life, which caused him to stand aloof, so far 
 as communion went, from tlie Baptist as well 
 as from other churches. There were, how- 
 e^■er, a considerable number of Baptists who 
 emigrated from England, Holland, and Ger- 
 many within the next hundred and thirty 
 years, and Baptist churches existed in most 
 of the thirteen colonies at the commencement 
 of the Revolution ; yet their membership 
 was small. In 17C2 there were but 56 
 churches with less than fi.OOO members in 
 the denomination. In 1776 they reckoned 
 nearly 1.50 churches with a membersiiip of 
 about 13,000. From the time of the revo- 
 lution, their growth was very rapid, exceeded 
 only by that of the Methodist churches. 
 
 Every cliurch among the Baptists is com- 
 pletely independent of every other and fully 
 competent to establish its own doctrinal 
 views, its own course of polity and discipline, 
 and to elect, license, and ordain its own offi- 
 cers whether they are deacons, licensed 
 preachers, ordained ministers or pastors. The 
 Baptists acknowledge no church couits, no 
 hierarchy, presbytery, synod, directory, 
 classis, general assembly, annual or general 
 conference, de.an or bishop as having any 
 power over the individual church, which they ' 
 regard as the iiiud arbiter in all matters of 
 discipline, polity, and doctrine. In these 
 matters they are the most absolutely pure 
 and simple cougregationalists, the completest 
 democracy in tlie world. Tiiey have, it is 
 true, their associations and conventions, and 
 their church councils, but these are only for 
 devotional, charitable, and advisory purposes ; 
 they possess no disciplinary powers. It fol- 
 lows as a necessary corollary from this, that 
 though all the Baptist churches acknowledfje 
 and receive " the Scriptures of the Old and 
 New Testaments as their only and all suffi- 
 cient rule of f lith and practice" they have 
 no articles of faith or creed which are univer- 
 sally received. Many of the oldest and 
 
502 
 
 HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 most influential churches have never had 
 articles of faith. Where they are used, each 
 church prepares its own or adopts one al- 
 ready prepared as it pleases, yet most of 
 them agree in the principal points of doctrine. 
 The Kejiular Baptists are in general Mode- 
 rate Caivinists. accepting " for substance of 
 doctrine" the view of the general sufficiency 
 but particular application ol the Atonement 
 enunciated by Rev. Andrew Fuller, in his 
 theological works. A confession of faith, 
 embodying these doctrines and known as the 
 New Hampshire Confession of Faith, was 
 prepared more than forty years ago and has 
 perliaps been adopted by more churches 
 than any other ; yet while it represents f lirly 
 the views of the great body of regular Bap- 
 tists, it cannot be considered an aulhoritative 
 document. We give below the articles of 
 this confession. 
 
 I. Of the Scriptures. We believe that 
 the Holy Bible was written by men divinely 
 inspiiid, and is a perfect treasure of heav- 
 enly in-truction, that it has God for its au- 
 thor, salvation for its end, and truth without 
 any mixture of error for its matter ; that it 
 reveals the principles by which God will 
 judge us; and therefore is, and shall remain 
 to the end of the world, the true centre of 
 Christian union, and the supreme standard 
 by wliich all human conduct, creeds, and opin 
 ions should be tried. 
 
 II. Of the True God. We believe that 
 there is one, and only one, living and true 
 God, an infinite, intelligent Spirit, whose 
 name is Jehovah, the Maker and Supreme 
 Ruler of Heaven and Earth ; inexpressibly 
 glorious in holiness, and worthy of all possi- 
 ble honor, confidence, and love ; that in the 
 unity of the Godhead there are three per- 
 sons, the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
 Ghost ; equal in every divine perfection, and 
 executing distinct but harmonious offices in 
 the great work of redemption. 
 
 HI. Of the Fall of Man. We believe 
 that Blan was created in holiness, imder the 
 law cf his Maker ; but by voluntary trans- 
 gression fell from that holy and happy strife; 
 in consequence of which all mankind are 
 now sinners, not by constraint but choice, 
 being by nature utterly void of that holiness 
 required by the law of God, positively in- 
 clined to evil ; and therefore under just con- 
 demnation to eternal ruin, without defence 
 or excuse. 
 
 IV. Of the Way of Salvation. We be- 
 lieve that the salvation of sinners is wholly 
 
 of grace ; through the Mediatorial ollices of 
 the Son of God ; who by the appointment oi 
 the Father, freely took upon Him our na- 
 ture, yet without sin ; honored the Divine 
 law by his personal obedience, and by his 
 death made a full atonement for our sins ; 
 that having risen from the dead. He is now 
 enthroned in Heaven, and xmiting in His 
 wonderful person the tenderest symjjathies 
 with divine perfections. He is every way 
 qualified to be a suitable, a compassionate, 
 and an all-sufficient Saviour. 
 
 V. Of Justijication. We believe that 
 the great Gospel blessing which Christ se- 
 cures to such as believe in Him is Justifica- 
 tion , that Justification includes the pardon 
 of sin, and the promise of eternal life on 
 principles of righteousness ; that it is be- 
 stowed, not in consideration of any works 
 of righteousness which we have done, but 
 solely through faith in the Redeemer's blood, 
 by virtue of wlucli faith His perfect right- 
 eousness is freely imputed to us of God, that 
 it brings us into a state of most blessed 
 peace and favor with God, and secures every 
 other blessing needful for time and eternity. 
 
 VI. Of the Freeness of Salvation. We 
 believe that the blessings of salvation are 
 made free to all by the Gospel ; that it is the 
 innnediate duty of all to accept them by a 
 cordial, penitent, and obedient faith ; and that 
 nothing prevents the salvation of the great- 
 est sinner on earth, but his own inherent 
 depravity and voluntary rejection of the 
 Gospel, which rejection involves him in an 
 aggravated condemnation. 
 
 VII. Of Grace in Regeneration. We 
 believe that in order to be saved, sinners 
 must be regenerated, or born again, that re- 
 generation consists in giving a holy disjiosi- 
 tion to the mind ; that it is effected in a man- 
 ner above our comprehension by the power 
 of the Holy Spirit, in connection with Divine 
 truth, so as to secure our voluntary obedience 
 to the Gospel ; and that its proper evidence 
 appears in the holy fruits of repentance, and 
 faith, and newness of life. 
 
 VIII. Of Repentance and Faith. We 
 believe that Repentance and Faith are sa- 
 cred duties, and also inseparable graces, 
 wrought in our souls by the regenerating 
 Spirit of God, whereby being deeply con- 
 vinced of our guilt, danger, and helplessness, 
 and of the way of salvation by Christ, we 
 turn to God with unfeigned contrition, con- 
 fession, and supplication for mercy ; at the 
 same time heartily receiving the Lord Jesus 
 
HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERRNT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 503 
 
 Chn-t as our Prophet, Priest, niid King, and 
 relying on Him aluiie as the only and all- 
 EulHcient Saviour. 
 
 IX. Of God's Purpose of Grace. AVe 
 believe that Ellectiou is the eternal purpose 
 of God, according to wliieh He graciously 
 regenerates, sanctities, and saves sinners ; 
 t!iat being perfectly consistent with the I'ree 
 agency of man. it comprehends a'l the means 
 in connection with the end ; that it is a most 
 glorious display of God's sovereign goodness, 
 beiuginfinitely free, wise, holy, and unchange- 
 able ; tliat it utterly excludes boastmg, and 
 |)ro:notes luunility, love, prayer, praise, trust 
 in God, and aclive imitation of his free mer- 
 cy, that it encourages the use of means in 
 the highest degree ; that it may be ascer 
 tained by its eH'ects in all who truly believe 
 the G(5spel ; that it is the foundation of 
 Christian assnrafice, and that to ascertain it 
 with regard to ourselves demands and de- 
 serves the utmost diligence. 
 
 X. Of Sancti/icdtioii. We believe that 
 Sanctification is the process by which, accord- 
 ing to the will of God, we are made partak- 
 ers of his holiness ; that it is a progressive 
 work ; that it is begun in regeneration ; and 
 that it is carried on in the hearts of believers 
 liy tlie pre- en ^e and power of the Holy 
 Spirit, the fc'eale.' and Comforter, in the con- 
 tinuil use oi the appointed means — espe- 
 cially, tlie word of God, selJ'-exarainatiou, 
 self-denial, watchfulness, and praver. 
 
 XI. Of tlif Perseverance of Suiiiis. "VVe 
 believe tliat such only are real believers as 
 endure unto the end; that their persevering 
 attachment to Christ is the grand mark which 
 disting.iishes themfrom superficial professors ; 
 that a special Providence watches over their 
 welfare ; ami they are kept by the power of 
 God through faitlt unto salvation. 
 
 XII. Of the Harmony of the Law and 
 Gospel. We believe that tlie Law of Goii 
 is the eternal and unchange ible rule of His 
 moral government ; that it is iiolv, just, and 
 good ; and that the inability which the Scrip- 
 lures ascribe to fallen men to fulfil iU pre- 
 cepts, arises entirely from their love of sin ; 
 to deliver th -in from which, and to restore 
 them through a Mediator to unfeigned obedi- 
 ence to the holy Law, is one great end of the 
 Gospel, and of the Means of Grace connected 
 with the establishment of the visible church. 
 
 XIII. Of a Gospel Church. We believe 
 that a visible cliurch of Christ is a conwrega- 
 tion of baptized believers, associated by cov- 
 enant in the faith and fellowship of the Gos- 
 
 pel ; observing the ordinances of Christ ; 
 governed by his laws ; and exercising the 
 gifts, rights, and privdeges invested in them 
 by His word; that its only scriptural officers 
 are Bishops or Pastors, and Deacons, whose 
 fiualificalions, claims, and duties are defined 
 in tlie Epistles to Timothy and Titus. 
 
 XI V^. Of Baptism and the Lord's Sup- 
 per. We believe that Christian Baptism is 
 the immersion in water of a believer, into 
 the name of the Father, and Son, and Holy 
 Ghost ; to show forth in a solemn and beau- 
 tiful emblem, our faith in the crucified, 
 buried, and risen Saviour, with its eftcct, in 
 our death to sin and resurrection to a new 
 life ; that it is pre-requisite to the privileges 
 of a church relation ; and to the Lord's Sup- 
 per, in which the members of the church by 
 the sacred use of bread and wine, are to 
 commemorate together the dying love of 
 Christ; preceded always by solemn self-ex- 
 amination. 
 
 XV. Of the Christian Sabbath. We be- 
 lieve that the first day of the week is the 
 Lord's Day, or Christian Sabbath ; and is to 
 be kept sacred to religious purposes, by ab- 
 staining from all secular labor and sinful 
 recreations, by the devout observance of all 
 the means of grace, both private and public, 
 and by preparation for that rest thiit remain- 
 eth for the people of God. 
 
 XVI. Of Civil Government. We be- 
 lieve that Civil Government is of Divine 
 appointment, for the interests and good order 
 of human society ; and that magistrates are 
 to be prayed for, conscientiously honored, 
 and obeyed ; except only in things opposed 
 to the will of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is 
 the only Lord of the conscience, and the 
 Prince of the kings of the earth. 
 
 XVII. Of the Righteous and the Wicked. 
 We believe that there is a radical and essen- 
 tial difference between the righteous and the 
 wicked ; that such only as through faith are 
 justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and 
 sanctified by the Spirit ot our God, are truly 
 righteous in His esteem ; while all such as 
 continue in impenitence and unbelief are in 
 His sight wicked, and under the curse ; and 
 this distinction holds among men both in and 
 after death. 
 
 It is usual also in Baptist churches to 
 have a Church Covenant, to which the mem- 
 bers, when received, give their assent, as it 
 is read by the pastor. This covenant pledges 
 them to the duties of the Christian life, to 
 the observance of the worship, ordinances, 
 
504 
 
 IIISTORV AND rROGUr.SS OF THE DIFFKREXT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 discipline, and floftrinos of the church, and 
 to a strict avoidance of all temptations to 
 evil, and of all habits which may brinfi; dis- 
 honor or reproach upon their profession, and 
 to live in harmony and peace and in chris- 
 tian fidelity with the members of the church. 
 In ca^e of discipline, the usual charge against 
 the offender is the violation of his covenant 
 vows. With rare exceptions the Baptist 
 chui ches are associated ; that is, the churches 
 of each convenient district unite in an asso- 
 ciation of churches, varying in numbers from 
 four or five to fifty or sixty. Each church 
 is represented at the annual meetings of 
 these associations by the pastor and a num- 
 ber of lay delegates. Tlie functions of these 
 associations are wholly advisory, except that 
 sometimes there is formed from them a So- 
 ciety or Board for missionary work, which 
 maj' or may not be incorporated, but which, 
 while responsible to the association which 
 created it, takes upon itself, with their sanc- 
 tion, the raising of the necessary monies for 
 its work, and the management of that work 
 in all its details. The Baptist churches have 
 also in most of the states and territories, 
 state conventions, composed in the .-mailer 
 states of the pastor and two or three lay 
 delegates from each chunh ; in the larger 
 states, of clerical and lay delegates appointed 
 by the a-sociations. These couventions are 
 gener.ally occupied with the domestic mis- 
 sionary work of the states, aiding feeble 
 churches, establishing new ones, assisting in 
 the cause of ministerial and denominational 
 education, &c. In these bodies, as in the 
 associatiiins, the strictly democratic principle 
 of having all power inhere in and proceed 
 from the membership of the churcii is fully 
 observed. 
 
 The Baptist denomination in the United 
 States maintains general organizations for 
 Foreign jMissionary purposes, for Home 
 Missions, Church Exten-ion, and the educa- 
 tion of Freedmen for the ministry, for the 
 translation, publication, and circulation of 
 the scriptures in our own country and in 
 foreign lauds ; for the publication of tracts, 
 sunda)' scliool, and denoniinaiional works; 
 for the promotion of theological, collegiate, 
 and academical educittion. and a consolidated 
 American Baptist Missionary Convention 
 for missionary and educational work, mainly 
 among the freedmen. 
 
 The ten societies of the denominat'on re- 
 ceived in 1870 the following sums : for For- 
 eign Missions, $229,7G».44 ; for Home Mis- 
 
 sions, Church Extension, &e., $2.'37,G4.').:)0 ; 
 Bible, Sunday school, and denominational 
 publications and circulation, S384,324.17 
 making a total of S8ol,73><.ll for missionary 
 and educational purposes. The contribu- 
 tions for church purposes, and church exten- 
 sion, education, &c., not passing through 
 these channels, the same year was about 
 $8.1 O0,(J0O more. 
 
 The statistics of the denomination for 
 1870 were as follows: 799 associations, 17,- 
 745 churches, 10,818 ordained ministers; 
 whole number of members 1,419,492. a net 
 gain of 198,144 during the year. There 
 were connected with these churches 5.251 
 Sunday Schools reported with 5C.515 teach- 
 ers, and 473,li64 scholars. Tiie number of 
 volumes in the Sunday School liliraries re- 
 ported was G47,1<I2, and the benevolent con- 
 tributions of the schools $122,143. There 
 were the same year 38 colleges and theo- 
 logical seminaries belonging to the denomi- 
 nations, besides 18 or 20 others, mostly for 
 female education, founded by Baptists and 
 mainly under their control. These institu- 
 tions had about 350 instructors and professors 
 and over 0,000 students. The college prop- 
 erty of these institutions is somewhat moi'e 
 than $f),500,000. 
 
 They supported in 1870, 24 weekly, 3 
 semi-monthly, 12 monthly, and 3 quarterly 
 periodicals devoted to the interests of the 
 denomination, its Sunday Schools, and Mis- 
 sion enterprises. 
 
 II. FKEE\yiLL Baptists. This denomi- 
 nation originated in 1780, in which year 
 Benjamin Kandall, a native of Newcastle, N. 
 H., born in 1749, and in 1771 converted 
 under the preaching of George Whitfi:'ld, 
 organized the first Freewill Bajitist chin-ch, 
 at New Durham, N. H. Kandall was a man 
 of but moderate education, but he possessed 
 a strong and brilliant intellect, and having 
 become convinced, in 177(3, that the views of 
 the Baptists were correct in regard to the 
 mode and subjects of baptism, he joined 
 them, and very soon after commenced preach- 
 ing. He wits a diligent student, and the 
 C dvinistic doctrines of the Baptist churches 
 being distasteful to him, he adopted after 
 careful examination the views of Arminius, 
 substantially as held by the New Connec- 
 tion of General Ba|)tists in England, and the 
 INIethodists in this country. Mr. Randall 
 prearhed these doctrines with great success, 
 and in 1780 established his first church hold- 
 ing these doctrines. He also adopted the 
 
I Jii 1 3ni|_^£iii *r "3]- 
 
HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMIXATIONS. 
 
 505 
 
 priiR-i|ile of free? or open communion. The 
 jri-owth of the denomination has been consid- 
 eralily rapid, though it has been, from tlieir 
 stronji; anli-slaverj' principles, confined en- 
 tirei)' to tlie northern state-;, and its churches 
 have been multiplied rather in the country 
 than in the large cities. Almost two thirds 
 of its m-mbership reside in New England 
 and New York. Their views of doctrine 
 correspond with the liegular Baptists on all 
 points exce|it the following, which we give 
 from their Confession of Faith : 
 
 '• The Atonement. As sin cannot be pardon- 
 ed without a sacrifice, and the blood of beasts 
 could never actually wash away sin, Christ 
 gave himself a sacrifice for the sins of the 
 world, and thus made salvation possible for 
 all men. Through the redemption of Christ, 
 man is placed on a second state of trial ; 
 this second state so far diftering from the 
 first that now men are naturally inclined to 
 transgress, the commands of God, and will 
 not regain the image of God in holiness but 
 through the atonement, by the operation of 
 the Holy Spirit. All who die short of the 
 age of accoiuiiability are rendered sure of 
 eternal life. Through the provisions of the 
 atonement, all are abilitated to repent of 
 their sins, and yield to (jlod ; the Gospel call 
 is to all, the Spirit enlightens all, and men 
 lire agents capable of choosing or refnsing," 
 
 " Regfneratinn is an instantaneous renova- 
 tion of the soul, l)y the .Spirit of God, where- 
 by the penitent sinner, believing in. and giv- 
 ing up all for Christ, receives new life, and 
 becomes a child of God. This change is 
 preceded by true conviclion, repentance of, 
 and penitent snrrow for sin ; it is called in 
 Scripture, "being born again," "born of the 
 Spirit," " passing from death unto life." The 
 soul is then jiistijied with God." 
 
 " Santijicatioyi is a setting apart the soul 
 and body for holy service, an entire con- 
 secration of all our redeemed powers to 
 God ; believers are to strive for this with all 
 diligence." 
 
 ^'■Perseverance. As the regenerate are plac- 
 ed in a state of trial during life, their future 
 obedience and final salvation are neither 
 determined, nor certain ; it is, however, their 
 duty and privilege to be steadfast in the 
 truth, to grow in grace, persevere in holi- 
 ness, and make their election sure." 
 
 " Communion. Communion is a solemn par- 
 taking of bread and wine, in commemoration 
 of the death and sufferings of Christ." 
 
 The custom or ordinance of " washing the 
 
 ] saints' feet," once practised to a considerable 
 extent by this denomination, is still optional 
 with them, but has generally been aban- 
 doned. In their church polity the Freewill 
 Baptists are not so independent or demo- 
 cratic as the Regular Baptists, having adop- 
 teil, with their doctrines, some of the views 
 of the Methodists on church government. 
 They have but two classes of otiicers in the 
 church, — elders and deacons. Each church 
 elects its own pastor, and exercises discipline 
 over its own members ; but as a church is 
 accountable to the yearly meeting, which 
 has, also, the power of receiving appeals and 
 trying them. The ecclesiastical organiza- 
 tions of the denomination are the church, the 
 quarterly meeting or conference, the annual 
 meeting, and the general conference, which 
 meets triennially. The quarterly conference 
 consist of the ministers of its territory, and 
 such lay members as the churches may 
 select. A council from the quarterly confer- 
 ence organizes churches, and ordains minis- 
 ters, and the ministers are accountable to it 
 and not to their churches. The annual con- 
 ferences are composed of delegates appointed 
 by the quarterly conferences, and the gen- 
 eral conference delegates are chosen from the 
 annual conferences. The statistics of the 
 denomination for 1870, are as follows; One 
 general conference ; thirty yearly meetings ; 
 155 quarterly meetings ; 138(1 churches ; 1 145 
 ordained ministers, and 66,0119 communi- 
 cants. We have no report of their Sunday 
 Schools, and no recent one of their benevo- 
 lent contributions. Their donations to the 
 foreign missionary cause in 1866, were 
 S 1 2, 1 60, but have since been considerably in- 
 creased. They have al-o a Home Mission 
 Society, and an Education Society. They 
 have four colleges : Bates College, Lewiston, 
 Me., wdiich is liberally endowed, .and has 12 
 instructors and 103 students; Hillsdale Col- 
 lege, at Hillsdale, IMich. ; West Virginia 
 College, at Flemington, W. Va., and Ridge- 
 ville College, Ridgeville, Ind. They have 
 also a Theological Seminary at New Hamp- 
 ton, N. H , and a Theological Department 
 of Bates College, Me. There are also thir- 
 teen academies, seminaries, &c., and a soci- 
 ety for the promotion of Eilucation in the 
 South They have a printing establi-hment, 
 the property of the denomination, at Dover, 
 N. H., and issue a weekly paper, the "Mor- 
 ning Star," a monthly juvenile pa])er, and 
 an annual, the " Freewill Baptist Register." 
 The Free Communion Baptists or Free 
 
506 
 
 niSTonr and progress op the different denominations. 
 
 Baptists, a separate denomination until 1841, 
 united with them in that j'ear ; but the 
 Freewill Baptist General Conference with- 
 drew subsequently from 4000 of their own 
 members in North Carolina, on the question 
 of slavery, and refused to receive about 12,- 
 OllO more from Kentucky, who applied, on 
 the same ijrounds. 
 
 III. The Seventh Day Baptists, dif- 
 fer from Itegular Baptists only in the obser- 
 vance of the seventh, instead of the first day 
 of the week for religious worship. Their 
 first church in the United States was organ- 
 ized in 1G71. They ))ractice restricted com- 
 munion, are Calvini^tic in doctrine, and 
 independent in church polity. They had in 
 1870, seventy-five churches, eighty-two min- 
 isters, and 7,336 members. They sustain 
 missions in China and Palestine, and have a 
 Home INIissionary organization, an Educa- 
 tion Society, and a tract and publishing 
 house. They issue a weekly, a moulhl_y, 
 and a (|uarterly religious periodical. Tliey 
 have a flourishing co'lege, Alfred University, 
 at Alfred, Alleghany Co., N. Y., with 16 
 teaciiers and 3G4 students, and a good acad- 
 emy, the " De Iluyter Institute," at Da lluy- 
 ter, I\Iadison Co., N. Y. There are also a 
 few churches of Gei::\ian Sevkntii Day 
 Baptists, seceders from the Tunkers or 
 G^^rman Baptists, in Franklin, Bedford, and 
 Y'^ork comities. Pa. They are inclined to 
 monasticism, or the community life, and num- 
 ber but a few hundreds. 
 
 IV. The Si.x; Pki.nciple Baptists are 
 a small body, mostly confined to Khode Isl- 
 and, but having a few congregations in Bias- 
 sachusetts, New York, and Pennsylvania. 
 They are Armiiiian in doctrine. Their six 
 principles arc those stated in Hebrews, vi:I, 
 2. Tlieir rite of "lading on of hands" is 
 analogous to Episco|ial coiiiirmation, and is 
 their principal distinguishing jMiint. 'J'heir 
 ministers are not generally well educated, 
 and receive no stated support. They are 
 generally opjwsed to missions and to most of 
 the reforms of the day. The denomination 
 originated in ICiO, but has not grown rap- 
 idly. It now numbers about 20 eluirches, 
 18 ordained ministers, and 3,300 members. 
 Tliey have no periodical, and no schools or 
 colle'ies. 
 
 The Old School or Anti- Mission 
 Baptists, are diminishing every year in 
 numbers, but have their churches scattered 
 through most of the states of the Union, 
 except New England. They are generally 
 
 hyper-calvinistic or anti-nomians, in doc- 
 trine, and o[)pose strongly missions, Sunday 
 schools, temperance societies, and all agen- 
 cies not mentioned in the Scriptures. 1 heir 
 ministers are not generally educated, and 
 seldom or never receive any salary. Fifty 
 years ago the number of these churches was 
 very large, but they have dwindled to a few 
 hundreds, and their membershii) to perhaps, 
 4,5,000. They have no schools or colleges, 
 but have several periodicals, one of tlem, 
 "The Signs of the Times," being published 
 semi-monthly, at Middletown, Orange Ca, 
 N. Y. 
 
 VI. The Disciples of Christ, or 
 Church of Christ, or, as they are often 
 called, though they do not acknowledge the 
 name, Campbellites, are a body of Baptists, 
 who owe their origin, as a distinct denomina- 
 tion, mainly to the labors of Thomas and Al- 
 exander Cami>bell, two Presbyterian clergy- 
 men, father and son, who settled in Western 
 Pennsylvania, in 1808. They originally 
 belonged to the " Seceders," one of the 
 denominations which had come oflf from the 
 Scottish Kirk. The first effort of Mr. 
 Thomas Campbell, iu which his son joined 
 him veiy heartily, was to effect a union of 
 the different Protestant denominat'ons of 
 that region, by an agreement to reject all 
 creeds and confessions of faith, and take the 
 Scriptures only as the rule of faith and prac- 
 tice, seeking to come at their meaning by 
 earnest prayer, and careful study. A con- 
 siderable number joining in this work, a 
 small congregation was formed in Washing- 
 ton Co.. Penn , known as the " Brush Run 
 Church," Sept. 10, 1810. Of this church 
 Thomas Cam}>bell was the elder or pastor, 
 and by i(, his son, Alexander, was ordained 
 to tlie ministi'y. Careful and prayerful study 
 of the Bible for nearly two years, brought 
 the Campbi-lls and several of tlieir followers 
 to the conclusion that the Scriptures taught 
 " the immersion of believers," and they with 
 five others, were accordingly baptized in 
 June, 1812, by a Baptist minister. Within 
 the next three years, their adherents had 
 increased to five or six considerable congre- 
 gations, and they united with the Redstone 
 Baj)tist Association, stipulating, however, in 
 writing " that no terms of uni(jn or commun- 
 ion, otiier than tlie Holy Scriptures, should 
 be required." Some difficulty arising iu the 
 Association in consequence of their meas- 
 ures, they withdrew and joined the Mahon- 
 ing (Ohio) Association, which soon became 
 
IIISTOUT AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 507 
 
 fully identified witli the movement. In 1823 I 
 Ali-Xiuuler Ciunpbell, a man of extensive 
 scliolaivliip, anil remarkal)le logical and dia- 
 lectic jiowers, commenced the pnblication of 
 " The Christian Bapti.-^t." This periodical 
 was edited with j;reat ability, and through its 
 very large circulation, aided by his extensive 
 tours, and his public discussions with the 
 leading men of different denominations, his 
 peculiar views spread widely among the 
 Baptists and other denominations, through- 
 out the Middle and Korthwestern States. 
 Though aeknowledgi-ng no creed or confes- 
 sion of faith, and making his motto " Faith 
 in the Testimony of God, and obedience to 
 the commandments of Christ, the only bond 
 of unidii," Mr. Campbell did use a phraseol- 
 ogy in the enunciation of his doctrines which 
 was liable to perversion, and was, in fact, 
 often perverted. He insisted that the Scrip- 
 tures commiviiled "baptism for the remis- 
 sion of sins," and as Peter replied in Acts, 
 ii : 38, to those who asked wliat they should 
 do: "Repent and be baptized, every one of 
 you, in the name of J(!su3 Christ, for the 
 remission of sins, and ye shall receive the 
 gifts of the Holy Gliost," so he would have 
 the Christian minister now baptize all who 
 professed to be penitt-nt, for the remission of 
 their sins, and the assurance of pardon, and 
 the gifts of the Holy Spirit. His own views 
 were decided that penitence and faith were 
 necessary to salvation, but that the assur- 
 ance of this pardon ami salvation was to be i 
 attained through submission to this initiatory. 
 rite. To many of the Baptist churches, it 
 seemed that this was opening the dijor to a 
 belief in baptismal regeneration, a doctrine 
 abhorrent to them as to most Protestants, 
 and in 18"i7 the excision of Mr. Campbell's 
 followers commenced, and was carried on 
 inisparingly for many years after. Their 
 exclusion from the regular Baptist churches 
 led to their forming churches and associa- 
 tions ofiheir own, and their numbers were 
 largely augmented by the accession of a 
 body known as Reformers, who, liy an in- 
 dependent process, had reached substantial- 
 ly the same conclusions with them. The 
 '' Disciples," owing to their somewhat pecu- 
 liar and vague phraseoUigy in avowing their 
 faith, have been charged with Unitarianism, 
 as well as some other heresies ; but it is now 
 very generally conceded that they are Trini- 
 tarians, and that they do not differ in the 
 cardinal doctrines of the Bible from other 
 Evangelical Christians. That their formula 
 
 on the subject of baptism has led some astray 
 and ]irejudiced tlie minds of others, is prob- 
 ably true; but judged by the tests of Christ- 
 ian activity and evangelical labor, they are 
 perhaps little, if at all, behind otherdenomina- 
 tions. Tlieir oidy distinctive practice, aside 
 from the baptismal tbrmula. is the observance 
 of the ordinance of the Lord's Sup|)er weekly. 
 They recognize three orders of church offi- 
 cers, viz : 1 . Elders, presbyters, or bisho))s, 
 terras which they regard as synonymous; 2. 
 Deacons; 3. Evangelists. The last are their 
 itinerant ministry or missionaries, and are 
 supported by voluntary contributions. They 
 are very earnest in their support of education- 
 al institutions, and of organizations for the 
 distribution of the Scriptures. Their disting- 
 uished leader died in IStiG. at the age of 77, af- 
 ter performing an amount of intellectual labor 
 greater than falls to the lot of one educated 
 man in a thousand. He had written largely 
 on theological subjects, edited for more than 
 forty years a very able religious periodical, 
 conducted successfully five or six protracted 
 public discussions, founded, and taught large 
 classes in a college of good repute, and 
 preached manj' thousand sermons. 
 
 The " Disciples " at the time of his death 
 had 1,642 preachers (elders or bishops) a 
 large number of evangelists, and 424,250 
 members. Their present number of preach- 
 ers of both classes is estimated at about 
 3,000, their congregations at nearly .5,000, 
 and their membershi]) at about 612,000. 
 Tl;e educational institutions, organized and 
 supported by the " Disciples," are Ken- 
 tucky University at Lexington, Ky.; Bethany 
 College, Bethany, West Virginia; a College 
 at Indianopolis, Lid. ; Eureka College and 
 Abingdon College, at Eureka .and Abingdon, 
 III. ; Oskaloosa College, Liwa ; Wilmington 
 College, Wilmington, Ohio ; Franklin Col- 
 lege, near Nashville, Tenn. ; Woo<lland Col- 
 lege, California ; Jeffersontown and Emin- 
 ence, Kentucky ; female colleges at Colum- 
 bia, Missouri, Versailles, and Harrodsburg, 
 Ky., and Bloomington, 111. ; and 12 Acade- 
 mies and Seminaries. They have twenty- 
 three periodicals, of which 9 are weekly, 13 
 monthly, and one quarterly. The " Millen- 
 nial Hdrbinger" a monthly, succeeded the 
 " Christian Baptist" Dr. Campliell's first 
 periodical, and was edited by him till his 
 death. 
 
 VII. The Christian Connection, often 
 but unproperly called Christ-ians, are a 
 body of religionists who claim a threefold 
 
508 
 
 HISTORY ASD PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 origin. In North Carolina, in 1793, a con- 
 siderable number of churches seceded from 
 the Methodist Episcopal Church under the 
 leadership of Rev. J. O. Keller, and others, 
 and first took the name of Republican Meth- 
 odists, but afterward making the Bible their 
 sole standard of foith, and having become 
 convinced of the necessiiy of imraereion on 
 the profession of faith, tbey adopted the 
 name of '• Christians." In 1 800, Dr. Abner 
 Jones, Elias Smith, and other membei-s of a 
 Baptist church in Hartland, Vermont, know- 
 ing nothing of the action of these North 
 Carolina churches, separated from the church 
 with which they were connected and organ- 
 ized a chm-ch at Lyndon, Vermont, on the 
 principle of '• making the Bible alone their 
 confession of faith." This soon grew in 
 numbers and other churches were consti- 
 tuted on the .^ame principle. In 1801, after 
 the great revival in Kentucky and Teimes- 
 see, which led to the organization of the 
 Cumberland Presbyterian Church, Rev. B. 
 W. Stone, and four other Presbyterian min- 
 isters of Kentucky, withdrew, and adopting 
 soon after the name of " Christians," organ- 
 ized churches and IbiTually proclaimed their 
 principles in ISO-t. These three bodies 
 originating in as many denominations, came 
 together in a general convention two or three 
 years later and became one body. They 
 have two Quadrennial Conferences, the 
 United States and the Southern. Their 
 first weekly periodical, " T/ie Herald of Gos- 
 pel Liberty." was one of the first if not the 
 first of the religious newspapers pulilished in 
 the United States, and is still maintained. 
 
 Admitting no creed or confession- of faith, 
 and allowing all its adherents to interpret 
 the Scriptures for themselves, the Ciiristiau 
 Connection necessarily allows a wide range 
 of doctrinal belief and it is somewhat difn- 
 cult to determine wiiat are their doctrinal 
 views. A considerable portion, especially 
 in the Western and Centra! States, are not 
 Trinitarians. They iiold that there is one 
 God, the God of tlie Bible; that Christ is a 
 divine Ijeing. pre-existent. and the mediator 
 between God and man ; that Christ's sufiTer- 
 ings and death atone tor the sins of all men. 
 who, bv rep.entance and faith, maybe saved. 
 They believe immersion the only proper 
 mode, and believers the only proper subjects 
 of baptism. Comininiion at the Lord's table 
 is open to believers of all denominations. In 
 regard to church government and polity, 
 each church is theoretically and practically 
 
 independent. They have annual State Con- 
 ferences, composed of ministerial and lay 
 delegates from the churches which receive 
 and ordain pastors, but can pass no laws 
 binding the several churches. Their Gen- 
 eral Convention or Conference has Mission- 
 ary, Educational, Publishing, and Sabbath 
 School departments, each of which are in a 
 prosperous condition. They have a publish- 
 ing establishment at Dayton, Ohio, from 
 which are issued, the Gospel Herald, a week- 
 ly, the Sunday School Herald, a monthly 
 I periodical, a Quarterly Review, and a Chris- 
 tian Register, annually, and the books and 
 tracts of the denomination. The '• Herald 
 of Gospel Liberty," now (1871) in its sixty- 
 third year, is still published at Newburyport. 
 Mass. There was also, previous to the war. 
 a publishing establishment of the denomina- 
 tion at Suftblk, Va , and " The Christian 
 Sun," the organ of the Southern churches, 
 was published there. The printing estab- 
 lishment was destroyed and its ftmds lost 
 during the war, but the paper, though dis- 
 conthmed for the time, was revived in 1867. 
 There is great difficulty in ascertaining ac- 
 curately the statistics of the " Christian Con- 
 nection." At the West they are often con- 
 founded with '• The Disciples," with whom 
 many of thnm fraternize. They have about 
 70 Conferences, and it is estimated 3.000 
 ministers, 5.0(10 churches, and about 300.000 
 members. Their educational institutions are 
 Antioib College. Ohio, which has been aided 
 largely by the Unitarians, Union Christian 
 College, Indiana. Le Grand Institute. Iowa, 
 Wolfsborongh Seminary. New Hampshire, 
 and htarkey Seminary, New York. We 
 can obtain no statistics of their Sabbath 
 Schools. 
 
 VI 11. The ?.If.nsoxites. a denomination 
 of Baptist-, first known in Holland as the 
 followers of Simonis Menno in the sixteenth 
 centtny. They settled in and about Ger- 
 m.intown, Penn., in 1683, and in Lancaster 
 County, Penn., in 1709. They have since 
 spread over a great portion of Pennsylvania, 
 and have churches also in Maryland, Vir- 
 ginia, Ohio. Indiana, New York, and Cana- 
 da. Their doctrines are, in general, similar 
 to those of the rcgidar Baptist churches, ex- 
 cept that some of them adnift the validity of 
 sprinkling as bapti-m. They observe the 
 ordinance of '-Washing the Saints' feet," and 
 forbid their members to marry any except 
 those who are members of the church. They 
 resemble the Friends in their aversion to 
 
IIISTOUY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFEREN'T DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 509 
 
 legal oallis, to war, and to capital punish- 
 ment. Tlioy are diviJud into three parties, 
 or sub-sects : the Old INIennonites, the He- 
 lormed Mennonitcs, who came off in 1811 ; 
 and the Aniish Church or Hooker Men- 
 nonitcs. All profess to agree to the stand- 
 ard or confession of faith adopted at Dort. 
 Holland in 1632. The sLiti.stics of the de- 
 nomination, as well as its history, are very 
 imperfectly known. According to their 
 journals they had, in 1859, 128,000 mem- 
 bers in Americii ; but later statistics (in 
 1SG9) which do not, however, include Can- 
 ada, where they are considerably numerous, 
 put their number in the United States at 
 60,000, with about 400 churches, and per- 
 haps 450 ministers. In 18Go, the eighth 
 census reported their church edifices as hav- 
 ing only sittings for 37,1 lOO, but these returns 
 were so fallacious that little dependence 
 could be placed upon them. The denomina- 
 tion are not apparently increasing with any 
 great rapidity. They have one English, and 
 two German newspapers, and a German and 
 an English Almanac, all published at Elk- 
 hart. Ind., except one of the German papers, 
 which is issued from Milford Square, Penn., 
 There are no colleges, we believe, under 
 their special care or patronage. 
 
 IX. Brethren, German Baptists, 
 TuxKERS OR Dcnkers. A Small body of 
 Bapti-ts, who originated at Schwartzenau, 
 Germany, in 1708, but were driven to Amer- 
 ica by persecution in 1719. They are found 
 mostlv in Pennsylvania, Oiiio, and Virginia, 
 Maryland, and Indiana. In doctrine they 
 incline to Arminianisra, believing in a gene- 
 ral redemption, thou-jh in other doctrines, 
 they refer to the confession of Dort, wliich 
 is Calvini-tic. They have been charged 
 with believing in the final restoration of the 
 wicked to heaven and happiness, but the doc- 
 trine is not a part of their public teaching, 
 and is not perhaps generally held by them. 
 They practice trine immer-ion, and in bap- 
 tism incline the body forward instead of 
 backward as other Baptists do. They also 
 j)ractice laying on of hands and prayer, while 
 the person baptized is still in the water. 
 The Lord's Supper is celebrated with its ac- 
 companying usages of love feasts, the wash- 
 ing of feet, the kiss of charity, and the right 
 hand of fellowsliip. They also anoint the 
 sick with oil for their recovery. In other 
 matters they resemble the Friends, usmg 
 great plainness of dress and speech, refusing 
 to take legal oaths, and to engage in war. 
 
 They will not go to law, and generally will 
 not take interest on money lent. They have 
 bishops or ministers, elders or teachers, dea- 
 cons, and deaconesses, the latter being aged 
 women set apart for this special work. The 
 ministers or bishops alone receive ordination. 
 Until recently, questions were decided by lot 
 instead of by voting. Their statistics in 
 1866 were 200 churches, 150 ministers or 
 bishops, about 500 elders, and 20,000 mem- 
 bers. They have recently established Sab- 
 bath Schools, though a branch of them, (the 
 Seventh Day Dunkers,) maintained a Sunday 
 School at Ephratah, Penn., from 1740 to 
 1770. 
 
 X. Chdroh of God or Winebrenne- 
 RIANS, a denomination of Baptists, organiz- 
 ed in 1830, by Rev. John Winebrenner, for- 
 merly a minister of the German Reformed 
 Church at Harrisburg, Pa., where he was 
 settled in 1821. He was very successful in 
 bis pastorate, and great revivals took place 
 in his congregations, but he was charged 
 with deviating from the doctrines and prac- 
 tice of the German Reformed Church. In 
 1830 he withdrew from the church, and held 
 a meeting with some other preachers, in 
 which it was resolved that the only scriptural 
 name for the one true Church was " The 
 Church of God," and that they would hence- 
 forth belong to that church only. At the 
 same time Mr. Winebrenner avowed the 
 change of views to which he had been led, 
 which was accepted by the others. 
 
 The doctrines then advanced are substan- 
 tially those of " The Church of God" to-day. 
 The general tone of her doctrines is thor- 
 oughly evangelical though inclined rather to 
 the Arminian than the Calvinistic view. So 
 far as baptism, m mode and subjects, is con- 
 cerned they are in unison with the regular 
 Baptists. Their peculiar views of doctrine 
 and polity are thus expressed by themselves : 
 — She (-'The Church of God") believes in 
 three positive ordin.ances of perpetual stand- 
 ing in the church, viz.. Baptism, Feet- Wash- 
 ing, and the Lord's Supper. — She believes 
 that the ordinance of feet-washing, that is, 
 the literal washing of the saints' feet, accord- 
 ing to the words and example of Christ, is 
 obligatory on all Christians, and ought to be 
 observed by all the churches of God. 
 
 She believes that the Lord's Supper should 
 be often administered, and to be consistent, 
 to Christians only, in a sitting posture and 
 always in the evening. 
 
 She believes in the propriety and utility 
 
510 
 
 HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 of lioliling fast days, experience meetings, 
 anxious meetings, camp meetings, and other 
 special meetings of united and protracted 
 efforts for the ediiication of the church, and 
 the conversion of sinners. 
 
 She believes in the personal coming and 
 reign of Jesus Ciirist. Tiiere are also arti- 
 cles in her confession of faiih against the 
 manufacture, tratfic, and use of ardent spir- 
 its as a beverage, against slavery as impolitic, 
 and unchristian, and against civil wars as 
 niiholy and sinful and that the saints of the 
 Most High ought never to participate in 
 them. 
 
 Her church government is somewhat pe- 
 culiar. She claims to be independent and 
 Congregational, yet each church has its coun- 
 cil, composed of the preachers in ciiarge, 
 and the elders and deacons, whicii has all 
 the powers of the session of a Presbyterian, 
 or the consistory of a Reformed church. 
 
 She has also her annual Elderships, con- 
 sisting of all the pastor-, and an equal num- 
 ber of ruling elders within a given district, 
 and her Triennial General Eldership, con- 
 sisting of delegates from the Annual Elder- 
 ships, who, if preachers, must have been at 
 least five years in the ministry. This Gen- 
 eral Eldership owns and controls all the 
 common property of the church. Her offi- 
 cers are ministers, who may be either sta- 
 tioned pastors, itinerants on circuits, or mis- 
 sionaries at large ; ruling elders, and deacons. 
 The church has a domestic and a foreign 
 missionary society, and a printing establish- 
 ment. They issue a weekly jiaper " The 
 Church Advocate" a Sunday School paper, 
 and a German weekly paper. They have 
 two colleges, one at Centralia, Kansas, and 
 another as yet only partly oi'ganizcd. Their 
 numbers were estima'ed in 1870, at 400 
 churches, STiO ordained ministers, and yO.OOO 
 members. They are found mostly in Penn- 
 svlvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Mich 
 igau, and Kansas. 
 
 IV. PRESBYTERIANS. 
 
 I. The Presbyterian Church in the 
 U. S. America. (North.) This large and 
 respectable body of Christians, trace their 
 origin as a denomination in this country to 
 the Scottish Kirk, or Establisheii Church of 
 Scotland, to which most of the early Pres- 
 byterians in this country had belonged pre 
 vious to their emigration hither. The (irst 
 
 Presbyterian church in the Colonies is be- 
 lieved to have been the Rehoboth church in 
 Maryland, organized in 1690; that on Eliz- 
 abeth River, Virginia, was formed about the 
 same time, and those of Freeliolil, and 
 Woodbridge, N. J., not later than 1 G'J2. The 
 first presljytery, (that of Thiladelphia,) was 
 formed in 1706, and a synod of four presby- 
 teries in 1716. A division took place be- 
 tween the "Old Side" and the " New Side" 
 or " New Lights," in the synod (the synod 
 of Philadelphia) in 1741 ; the "Old side in- 
 sisting upon a thoroughly educated ministry, 
 and the strict observance of Presbyterial 
 order in accordance with the rules of the 
 Scottish Kirk, while the " New Side" or "New 
 Lights," who had been to some extent under 
 the influence of AVhitfield and his followers, 
 required conclusive evidence of experimental 
 religion in the candidates for the ministry, 
 and a good, but not necessarily a collegiate ed- 
 ucation, and were le-s strenuous on the minu- 
 tiaj of Presbyterial order. This division 
 contiimed for 17 years, when the two parties 
 came together and the two synods were 
 united under the name of the '' Synod of 
 New York, and Philadelphia." At the close 
 of the Revolutionary war, there were about 
 170 Presbyterian ministers, and rather more 
 than that number of churches, with an en- 
 tire membership of less than 20,000. In 
 1788 a committee of the Synod had com- 
 pleted the revision of the standards of doc- 
 trine and polity of the church, and recom- 
 mended its reorganization into four synods, 
 and a General Assembly over the whole. 
 This recommendation was adopted, and tak- 
 ing a new de]iarture from the great revivals 
 of 1800, 180 1,, and 1802, the church began 
 to grow with considerable ra|)idity. In 1801 
 a " plan of Union" was arranged between 
 the Presbyterians and Congregationalists in 
 the new settlements to prevent disagreement 
 between the two denomiiiaiions, and to facil- 
 itate their cooperation in missionary enter- 
 prises. This continued 36 years. There 
 had been evidently two parties in the Pres- 
 byterian church prior to 1830, but there had 
 been no decided collision between them until 
 about 183"), when some test cases led to a 
 division, and the excision of four synods 
 from the General Assembly in 1837. At 
 this time the New School General Assembly 
 was formed, and for thirty-three years there 
 were two General Assemblies, both calling 
 themstdves the General Assembly of the 
 l^resbyterian Church in the United States of 
 
HISTOKY AND PKOGllKSS OP THE DIFPKUENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 511 
 
 America ; both holding professedly to the 
 same standards and alike in churcii polity as 
 well as in doctrine. They were distinguished 
 as the Old School and the New School Gen- 
 eral Assemblies. Each iiad their missionary, 
 and publication organizations, tiiough the 
 New Scliool body cooperated for many years 
 with the American Board of Commissioners 
 for Foreign Missions, and the American 
 Home Mis-ionary Society. In 1870, after 
 a discussion and balloting for nearly two 
 years on the details, the two General Assem- 
 blies, with thi'ir entire constituency reunited, 
 and now form one body. The Southern 
 synods, the larger portion of them belonging 
 to the Old School branch, seceded from the 
 General Assemlily, tliose heretofore belong- 
 ing to the New Scliool in 18.J7, and those of 
 the Old School in 1861, and eventually coa- 
 lesced in the General Assembly of the Pres- 
 byterian Church, south. Overtures have 
 since been made to them for reunion with 
 the now United church in the Northern 
 states, but they have been thus far repelled. 
 
 The Presbyterian cluu'cli recognizes and 
 avows the necessity of doctrinal stan lards of 
 faith, and adopts as its standard, The West- 
 minster Assi'mbly's Confession of Faith, and 
 Exposition of doctrine, as contained in the 
 shorter and larger cat(?chisms of that body. 
 We have not space to give the whole of 
 these, but in-ert below, those which are dis 
 tiuctive in their character, giving only the 
 answers to the que-itions of the shorter cate- 
 chism, as these eoitain the declarative por 
 tion of the confession. It is hardly necessary 
 to say that this confession is always in ac- 
 cordance with the principles, and often uses 
 the veiy phraseology (translated) of Calvin 
 in his celebrated Institutes, and is sustained 
 by abundant references to scripture on each 
 point. 
 
 " 1. Asian's chief end is to glorify God, and 
 to enjoy Illm forever. 
 
 2. The Word of God, which is contained 
 in the Scriptures of the Old and New Tes- 
 taments, is the onlv rule to direct us how we 
 may glorify and enjoy him forever. 
 
 3. The Scriptures principally teach what 
 man is to believe concerning God, and what 
 'uty God requires of man. 
 
 4. God is a spirit, infinite, eternal and un- 
 changeable, in his being, wisdom, power, ho- 
 liness, justice, goodness, and truth. 
 
 5. There is but one only, the living and 
 true God. 
 
 6. There are three persons iii the God- 
 
 head, the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
 Ghost, and these three are one God, the 
 same in substance, equal in power and glory. 
 
 7. The decrees of God are his eternal 
 purpose, according to the counsel of his will, 
 whereby for his own glory, he hath fore-or- 
 dained whatsoever comes to pass. 
 
 8. God executes his decrees in the works 
 of creation and providence. 
 
 9. The work of creation is, God's making 
 all things of nothing, by the word of his 
 power, in the space of six days, and all very 
 good. 
 
 10. God created man, male and female, 
 after his own image, in knowledge, right- 
 eousness, and holiness, with dominion over 
 his creatures. 
 
 11. God's works of providence are, his 
 most holy, wise, and powerful preserving 
 and governing all his creatures, and all their 
 actions. 
 
 12. When God had created man, he en- 
 tered into a covenant of life with him, upon 
 condition of perfect obedience ; forbidding 
 him to cat of the tree of knowledse of ffood 
 and evil, upon the pain of death. 
 
 13. Our first parents being left to the 
 freedom of their own will, fell from the 
 estate in which they were created, l)y sin- 
 ning against God. 
 
 14. Sin is any want of conformity unto, 
 or tran-gression of, the law of God. 
 
 15. The sin whereby our first parents fell 
 from the estate wherein they were created 
 was their eating the forbidden fruit. 
 
 IG. The covenant being made with Adam, 
 not only for himself, but for his posterity ; 
 all mankind descending from him by ordin- 
 ary generation, sinned in him, and fell with 
 him, in his first transgression. 
 
 17. The fall brought mankind into an es- 
 tate of sin and misery. 
 
 18. The sinfulness of that estate where- 
 into man fell, consists in the guilt of Adam's 
 first sin, the want of original righteousness, 
 and the corruption of his whole nature, 
 which is commonly called original sin, to- 
 gether with all actual transgressions which 
 proceed from it. 
 
 19. All mankind by their foil lost com- 
 munion with God, are under his wrath and 
 curse, and so made liable to all the miseries 
 of this life, to death itself, and to the pains 
 of hell forever. 
 
 20. God having out of his mere good 
 pleasure, from all eternity, elected some to 
 everlasting life, did enter into a covenant of 
 
512 
 
 niSTORV AND PHOaiJESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 grace to deliver them out of the estate of sin 
 and misery, and to bring them into an estate 
 of salvation by a Redeemer. 
 
 21. The only Redeemer of God's elect is 
 tlie Lord Jesus Christ, wlio, being the Eter- 
 nal Sou of God, became man, and so was and 
 continues to be God and man, in two dis- 
 tinct natures and one person, forever. 
 
 22. Christ, tlie Son of God, became man, 
 by taliing to himself a true body and a rea- 
 sonable soul, being conceived by the power 
 of the Holy CJliost, in the womb of the Vir- 
 gin Mary, and born of her, yet without siu. 
 
 23. Christ, as our Redeemer, executes the 
 offices of a prophet, of a priest, and of a 
 king, both in his estate of humiliation and 
 exaltation. 
 
 24. He executes the office of a Prophet in 
 revealing to us, by his Word and Spirit, the 
 will of God for our salvation. 
 
 25. He executes the office of a Priest, in 
 his once otti^ring up himself a sacrifice, to sat- 
 isfy divine justice, and reconcile us to God; 
 and in making continual intercession for us. 
 
 2(5. He executes the oilice of a King, in 
 subduing us to himself, in ruling and defend- 
 ing us, and in restraining and conquering all 
 his and our enemies. 
 
 27. Christ's humiliation consisted in his 
 being born, and that in a low condition, made 
 under the law, undergoing the miseries of 
 this life, the wrath of God, and the accursed 
 death of the cross ; in being buried, and con- 
 tinuing under the power of death for a time. 
 
 28. His exaltation consists in his rising 
 again from the dead on the third day, in his 
 ascending up into Heaven, in his sitting on 
 the right hand of God the Father, and in his 
 coming to judge the world at the last day. 
 
 2',). We are made partakers of the re- 
 demption jnirchased by Christ, by the effect- 
 ual apjilication of it to us by his Holy Spirit. 
 
 30. The Spirit applies to us the redemp- 
 tion purchased by Christ, by working faith 
 in us, and thereby uniting us to Christ, in 
 our effectual calling. 
 
 31. Effectual calling is the work of Grod's 
 Spirit, whereby convincing us of our- sin and 
 misery, enlightening our minds in the knowl- 
 edge of Christ, and renewing our wills, he 
 dolh persuade and enable us to embrace 
 Jesus Christ, freely offered to us in the gos- 
 pel. 
 
 ."52. They that are effectually called, do, 
 in this life, partake of justification, adoption, 
 sauctification, and the several benefits, which; 
 
 in this life, do either accompany or flow from 
 them. 
 
 33. Justification is an act of God's free 
 grace, wherein he pardons all our sins, and 
 accepts us as righteous in his sight, only for 
 the righteousness of Christ, imputed to us, 
 and received by faith alone. 
 
 34. Adoption is an act of God's free grace, 
 whereby we are received mto the number, 
 and have a right to all the privileges of, the 
 sons of God. 
 
 35. Sanetification is the work of God's free 
 grace, whereby we are renewed in the whole 
 man, after the image of God, and are ena- 
 bled more and more to die unto sin, and live 
 unto righteousness. 
 
 3C. The benefits which, in this life, do 
 accompany or flow from justification, adop- 
 tion and sanetification, are, assurance of God's 
 love, peace of conscience, joy in the Holy 
 Ghost, increase of grace, and perseverance 
 therein to the end. 
 
 37. The souls of believers are, at their 
 death, made ]ierfect in holiness, and do im- 
 mediately pass into glory ; and their bodies 
 being still united to Christ, do rest in their 
 graves till the resurrection. 
 
 38. At the resurrection, believers being 
 raised up in g'ory, shall be openly acknowl- 
 edged and acquitted in the day of judgment, 
 and made perfectly blessed in the full enjoy- 
 ment of God to all eternity. 
 
 39. The duty which God requires of man 
 is obedience to his revealed will. 
 
 40. The rule which God at first revealed 
 to man for his obedience, was the moral law. 
 
 41. The moral law is snnniiarily compre- 
 hended in the ten commandments. 
 
 42. The sum of the ten commandments is, 
 to love the Lord our God, with all our heart, 
 with all our soul, with all our strength, and 
 with all our mind ; and our neighbor as our- 
 selves." 
 
 (Then follow in the Catechism, forty 
 questions and answers, comprising the words 
 of the ten commandments and expositions of 
 their teaching, not necessary to be inserted 
 here, and the Catechism then proceeds with 
 answer.) 
 
 " 82. No mere man, since ttie fall, is able, 
 in this life, jierfectly to keep the command- 
 ments of God, but doth daily break them, in 
 thought, word, and deed. 
 
 83. All transgressions of the law are not 
 equally heinous, some sins in themselves 
 and by reason of several aggravations, 
 
IIISTOKY AND mOGRKSS OK THE DIFrKKENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 il3 
 
 being more henious in the sight of God than 
 otli rs. 
 
 84. Every sin deserves God's wrath and 
 nirse, both iu this life, and that which is to 
 come. 
 
 85. To escape the wrath and curse of 
 God, due to us for sin, God requireth of us 
 faith iu .Tesus Christ, repentance unto life, 
 witli the diligent use of all the outward 
 jnciuis whereby Christ communicateth to us 
 the heiietits of redemption. 
 
 80. Faith in Jesus Christ is a saving 
 grace, vv'hereby we receive and rest upon 
 hi a alone for salvation, as he is offered to 
 us iu the gospel. 
 
 87. Repentance unto life is a saving grace 
 whereby a sinner, out of a true sense of his 
 sill, and apprehension of the mercy of God 
 in Christ, doth with grief and hatred of his 
 sin tiu-n from it unto God, with full purpose 
 of, and endeavor after, new obedience. 
 
 88. The outward and ordinary means 
 whereby Christ communicateth to us the 
 b 'ncfits of redemption, are his ordinances, 
 especially the word, sacraments, and prayer ; 
 all which are made effectual to the elect for 
 salvation. 
 
 83. The Spirit of God maketh the read- 
 ing, but especially the preaching of the word, 
 an effectual means of convincing and con- 
 verting sinners, and of building tliem up in 
 holiness and comfort, through faith, unto sal- 
 vatiou. ' 
 
 90. That the word may become effectual 
 to salvation, we must attend thereunto with 
 diligence, preparation, and prayer ; receive it 
 with faith and love ; lay it up in our hearts, 
 and i)rictise it iu our lives. 
 
 81. The sacraments become effectual 
 means of salvation, not from any virtue in 
 tliem, or in him tiiat doth administer them ; 
 liut only by the blessing of Christ, and the 
 working of His Spirit, in them that by faith 
 receive them. 
 
 92. A sacrament is a holy ordinance insti- 
 tuted by Christ wherein by sensible signs, 
 Christ and the benefits of the new covenant 
 are represented, sealed, and applied to be- 
 lievers. 
 
 93. The sacraments ctf the New Testa- 
 ment are Baptism and the Lord's Supper. 
 
 94. IJaptism is a sacrament wherein the 
 washing with water, iu the name of the 
 Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 
 Ghost, doth signify and seal our engrafting 
 into Christ, and partaking of the covenant of 
 grace, and our engagement to be the Lord's. 
 
 31* 
 
 95. Baptism is not to be administered to 
 any that are out of the visible church till they 
 profess their faith in Christ and obedience to 
 him ; but the infants of such as are members 
 of the visible church are to be baptized. 
 
 86. The Lord's Supper is a sacrament 
 wherein by giving and receiving bread and 
 wine, according to Christ's appointment, his 
 death is showed forth ; and the worthy re- 
 ceivers are, not after a corporeal and carnal 
 manner, but by faith, made partakers of his 
 body and blood, with all his benefits, to their 
 spiritual nourishment and growth in grace. 
 
 97. It is required of them that would 
 worthily partake of the Lord's Supper, that 
 they examine themselves of their knowledge 
 to discern the Lord's body, of their faith to 
 ft-ed upon him, of their repentance, love and 
 new obedience, lest, coming unworthily, they 
 eat and drink judgment to themselves. 
 
 98. Prayer is an offering up of our desires 
 to God for things agreeable to his will, in the 
 name of Christ, with confession of our sins, 
 and thankful acknowledgment of his mercies. 
 
 99. Tiie wliole word of God is of use to 
 direct us in prayer, but the special rule of 
 direction is that form of praver which Christ 
 taught his disciples, commonly called the 
 Lord's Prayer. 
 
 lOU. The preface of the Lord's Prayer 
 (0«r Father wliicli art in Heareii) teaclieth 
 us to draw near to God with all holy rever- 
 <'nce and confidence, as children to a Father, 
 uble and ready to help us ; and that we 
 should pray with and for others. 
 
 lOJ. In the first petition (Hallowed he thy 
 name), we pray that God would enable us, 
 and others, to glorify him in all that whereby 
 he maketh himself known, and that he would 
 dispose all things to his own glory. 
 
 102. In the second petition {Thy kingdom 
 come), we pray that Satan's kingdom may 
 lie destroyed, and that the kingdom of grace 
 may be advanced, ourselves and others 
 brought into it, and kept in it, and that the 
 kingdom of glory may be hastened. 
 
 103. In the third petition (Thy will he 
 done on earth as it is in Heaven), we pray, 
 that God, by his grace, would make us both 
 able and willing to know, obey, and submit 
 to his will in all things, as the angels do in 
 Heaven. 
 
 104. In the fourth petition ( Give us this 
 day 07tr daily bread), we pray that of God's 
 free gift, we may receive a competent por- 
 tion of the goo 1 things of this life, and enjoy 
 his blessing vit'.i them. 
 
514 
 
 HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 105. In the fifth petition {Forgive us our 
 debts, as we forgive oitr debtors), we pray, 
 that God, for Christ's sake, would freely 
 pardon our sins ; which we are the rather 
 encouraged to ask, because by his grace, we 
 are enalikd from the heart to forgive others. 
 
 106. In the sixth petition {A /id lead us not 
 info temptation, but deliver us from evil), we 
 pray that God would either keep us from be- 
 ing tempted to sin, or support and deliver us 
 when we are temi)ted. 
 
 107. The conclusion of the Lord's Prayer 
 (For thine is the kingdom, and the power and 
 the glory, forever, Amen.) teacheth us to take 
 our encouragement to prayer from God only, 
 and in our prayers to praise Him, ascribing 
 kingdom, power, and glory to Him. And in 
 testimony of our desire and assurance to be 
 heard, we say, amkn. 
 
 It will be seen from the 95th article, that 
 the Presbyterian Church, as well as some of 
 the denominations which follow in this vol 
 ume, is Pado-baptisl or holds to the doctrine 
 of infant baptism, in distinction from the 
 churches of the Baptist group which admin- 
 ister baptism only to believers. It also dif- 
 fers from all the churches which we have 
 previously de^:cribed, in its church govern- 
 ment and polity. The Presbyterial form 
 of church government characterizes (under 
 somewhat difft'rent names, but with the same 
 meaning) all the churches which are affiliat 
 ed with the Presbyterian, and it may there- 
 fore be described here once for all. Their 
 govermnent is representative rather than 
 democratic. They recognize two classes of 
 elders (presbyters); the teaching elder or 
 minister of the word, and the ruling elder, 
 a representative of the people, and their 
 agent and ruler iu matters pertaining to the 
 church. While they have but one teaching 
 elder or preacher, generally a pastor, to the 
 church, they liave two, four, or more, ruling 
 elders, vvlio, with the teaching elder and dea 
 cons, constitute the church session, which 
 governs the church in all matters of doctrine 
 and discipline, and being elected for that 
 purjwse also, has charge of the temporalities 
 of the church The church court next above 
 the church, and, in ordinary cases, the lead- 
 ing judicatory, is the presbytery, composed 
 of the teaching elders or preaciiers, and one 
 ruling elder in each church within its bounds. 
 The ordaining, recoguition, and dismissal of 
 pastors are conducted by the presbytery, on 
 the application of the minister and the church 
 
 with which he is, or is to be, otiicially con- 
 nected. (It is noteworth that very often 
 the minister is not a member of the church 
 to which he ministers.) Difficult cases ot^ 
 discipline, or those in which there are two 
 parties in a church, come before the presby- 
 tery for adjudication ; and all charges of her 
 esy, or misconduct against any of its minis-, 
 ters, is brought before it for trial and inves~ 
 tigation. Above the presbytery in the gra- 
 dation of church courts, is the synod, compos- 
 ed of a certain number of presbyteries, and 
 when in session consisting of delegates from 
 each presbytery, lay and clerical. It is a 
 court of appeal from the presbytery, and its| 
 wider range of territory and larger number 
 of able ministers and elders gives it some 
 advantages. The final court of resort in all 
 church matters is, however, the General 
 Assembly or General Synod, composed of 
 commissioners, clerical and lay, from the 
 Synods. This General Assembly possesses 
 entire control over the church action, the 
 doctrinal soundness, and the educational and 
 benevolent institutions of the denomination, 
 and is, in its assembled capacity, the embod- 
 iment of the Presbyterian Church in Amer- 
 ica, or of the other organizations which it 
 represents. Its sessions are annual, and usu- 
 ally continue for two or three weeks, and 
 sometimes even longer. The Presbyterian 
 Churches seem to have for their specialty 
 the discussion of the doctrines of their con- 
 fession of faith, and the detection of any and 
 every form of heresy. Months and years of 
 their history have been devoted to these dis- 
 cussions, and, while these are certainly im- 
 portant, there is danger that in these dialec- 
 tic strug<;les their strength will be so far 
 expended that they will h.ardly keep pace 
 with the other denominations in growth and 
 progress. Still they are one of the strongest 
 and most efficient of the evangelical denomi- 
 nations in the United States, and are likely 
 to do more efficient work in the future 
 than they have in the past. They have 
 shown a most commendable liberality recent- 
 ly. During the year ending in May, 1871, 
 the new reunited Presbyterian Church had 
 contributed to a memorial fund for building 
 and paying the debts on church edifices, en- 
 dowing colleges and theological seminaries, 
 jilantiug new missions, etc., etc., the magnifi- 
 cent sum of $8,600,000, aside from their 
 regular contributions to missionary, publica- 
 tion, educational, and other objects, and the 
 
HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 515 
 
 expenditure for current church expenses, sal- 
 aries, etc., which amounted to about $8,000,- 
 OOO more. 
 
 Tlie statistics of the " Presbyterian Church 
 in the U. S. A.," for 1870, were as follows : 
 
 There were 5 1 synods ; 259 presbyteries ; 
 4.2o8 ordained ministers ; 338 licentiates and 
 541 candidates for licensure ; 4,526 churches; 
 440,501 communicants ; 32,003 were added 
 on examination, and 21,447 on certificate; 
 10,122 adults and 16,476 infants baptized; 
 448,857 members of the Sabbath Schools. 
 The benevolent contributions (not including 
 any [jart of tlie memorial fund mentioned 
 above) $8,440,121. The net gain in the 
 numl)er of communicants in the year 1870-1 
 was 8,817, and the whole number of mem- 
 bers reported May, 1871, 455,378. 
 
 II. Pkesbyteiiian Church, in the 
 United .States (South) — This body is com- 
 posed of the seceders, who came off from the 
 New Scliool Presbyterian Cimrch in 1857, 
 and wlio joined the Southern General Assem- 
 bly in 1863, and the seceders from the Old 
 Soiiool Presbyterian Churcli, who left it in 
 1861, and immediately formed the Southern 
 General Assembly. The secession, Ln both 
 instances, was based mainly on the position 
 of the two Northern General Assemblies on 
 the question of Slavery, and in the latter 
 case also bi'cause that in the war then just 
 commenced, the Old School General Assem- 
 bly avowed its loyalty and adherence to the 
 Union. During the war there were hasty, 
 and, perhaps, injudicious resolutions passed 
 on both sides, and to the overtures which have 
 since been made by the re-united Presbyte- 
 rian Church for their return, the Southern 
 General Assembly has replied " that they 
 do not approve of a union with the Northern 
 Church because it is a total surrender of all 
 fundamental doctrines, and embraces all 
 shades of belief." " The Southern Church," 
 tliey say, " is the only surviving heir of true, 
 unfailing testimonies, and there are impassa- 
 ble barriers to official intercourse between 
 the two churches." 
 
 Their doctrinal standards, and their church 
 government and polity, are identical with 
 that of the Northern church. 
 
 Their statistics in 1870 were as follows : 
 There were 11 synods, 55 presbyteries, 840 
 ordained ministers, 52 licentiates, and 161 
 candidates, for licensure; 1,469 churches, 
 82,014 members reported (206 churches did 
 not report the number of members) ; 5,048 
 members added on examination, and 2,851 
 
 on certificate ; 1,529 adults, and 3,555 chil- 
 dren baptized ; 47,317 Sunday School schol- 
 ars, $"^72,335 contributed to benevolent ob- 
 jects and church expenses. 
 
 III. United Presbyterian Church 
 OP North America. The body bearing 
 this name iu the United States is entirely 
 difterent in its origin from the United Pres- 
 byterian Church of Scotland and Canada, 
 though holding nearly the same views of 
 doctrine and polity. The Scottish United 
 Presbyterian Church is composed of the 
 United Secession Church (itself a coalition 
 of the Burgher and Anti- Burgher Synods) 
 and the Relief church, both secessions from 
 the established Kirk of Scotland on the 
 ground of its corruption in doctrine and prac- 
 tice, and its enforcement of the settlement 
 of ministers named by the heritors or aris- 
 tocracy, against the will of the people. These 
 two organizations came together and formed 
 the Scottish United Presbyterian Church 
 (which has a large and efficient branch in 
 Cauaila) in 1847. The United Presbyte- 
 rian Church, in the United States, was con- 
 stituted in 1858 by the union of the Asso- 
 ciate Reformed, and the Associate Presby- 
 lerian churches. Of these two bodies, the 
 fornKir was an agglomeration of small bodies 
 of Covenanters, Associates, Reformed, and 
 Burgher Presbyterians, which came together 
 in 1 782 and formed a synod composed of three 
 presbyteries at Philadelphia. In 1803 they 
 had increased so as to form four provincial 
 synods. New York, Pennsylvania, Scioto, and 
 the Carolinas, under one representative gen- 
 eral synod. Two of these provincial synods 
 (Scioto and the Carolinas) afterward became 
 independent. The "Associate Presbyterian 
 Church" had a somewhat similar history 
 though it retained its allegiance to the Scot- 
 tish synod of the church of the same name 
 until 1818. It had had several small seces- 
 sions from its ranks, which have since formed 
 small presbyterian bodies. At the time of 
 the union of these two churches in the United 
 Presbyterian Church, in 1858, a few churches 
 and ministers protested against the union, 
 and have since connected themselves with 
 some of the smaller organizations. The 
 United Presbyterian Church has two col- 
 leges, two academies and theological semin- 
 aries at Alleghany, Penn., Xenia, Ohio, Mon- 
 mouth, Illinois, and Newburgh, New York. 
 Its statistics in 1870 were: 8 synods, 56 
 presbyteries, 553 ordained rauiisters, 43 li- 
 centiates, 55 students for the ministry, 729 
 
516 
 
 HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 congregation?, 00,807 members, of whom 
 4,182 were receiveil on profession, and 3,935 
 on certificate ; 609 Sabbatli Scliools were 
 reported witli 6,761 officers and teachers, 
 and 42,907 scholars. The total contribu- 
 tions to benevolent and church purposes 
 were $827,126. The denomination have 
 5 foreign missions, 19 forei<rn mission sta- 
 tions, 12 mission churches, 26 missionaries 
 and helpers, and contributed, in 1870, $03,- 
 500 for foreign missionary purposes. They 
 have also successful Home Mission and 
 Freedraen's Mission Boards, and expended 
 on them $49,481, in 1870. The net increase 
 of members in 1870, over the previous year, 
 was 4,183, but the number of ministers had 
 decreased by 12. The contributions were 
 about $43,300 more than the previous year. 
 IV. General Stnod op the Reform- 
 ed Presbyterian Church. This body 
 in its present organization, originated in 
 1782 from the ministers of the Reformed 
 Presbyterian church who refused to consent 
 to tlie union with the Associate Church and 
 mainta'ned theiroriginal organization. These 
 were subsequent]}' strengtliened by the ar- 
 rival of several ministers of the Reformed 
 Presbyterian Church of Scotland in 1793, 
 and subsequently. They were organized 
 into a synod of three presbyteries in 1808, 
 and in 1825 constituted a general synod. 
 Their doctrines are those of the Westminster 
 Assembly's Confession of Faith and Cate- 
 chisms, with tiie addition of the Declaration 
 and Testimony, in which they express their 
 hostility to the interference of civil govern- 
 ment with the affairs of the church, and their 
 unwillingness to be bound by it in matters 
 of conscience. On this point there has been 
 a division among them, and a secession has 
 resulted. The Reformed Presbyterian Church 
 are the lineal and spiritual successors of the 
 Covenanters or Cameronians, and like them 
 have protested earnestly and steadily against 
 a State chm-ch and the interference of the 
 State with their ministry and their religious 
 privileges. Even in the last century they 
 were persecuted for these views in Scotland, 
 and it was natural that they should adhere 
 to them with the greater tenacity, but in this 
 country where the Slate did not interfere 
 with religious worship, and there was no 
 established church, many of the ministers of 
 the Reformed Presbyterian Church felt that 
 there was no necessity for maintaining that 
 hostility or non-intercourse with the civil 
 government wliich, imder the circumstances, 
 
 in Scotland, was right and proper ; and they 
 accordingly participated, as citizens, in voting 
 and in sucii civil duties as they deemed right, 
 while protesting against all interference of 
 the civil powerin mattersof'conscience. They, 
 like all the Reformed Presbj'terians, were 
 strongly opposed to slaverj', and would have 
 no communion with slaveholders or those who 
 defended slavery. A part of their ministers, 
 whose feelings on the subjects of the civil 
 power were intense, and v ho regarded our 
 national constitution and government as in- 
 fidel and Godless, withdrew from the Gen- 
 eral Synod on these grounds in 1833 and 
 formed a separate organization which is now 
 somewhat more numerous tlian the General 
 Synod. All the Reformed Presbyterians 
 refuse to use any other than inspired hymns 
 and psalms in their worship, and for the 
 want of any more literal metrical translation 
 of the Psalms of David sing from Rouse's 
 version of the Psalms, which, thousrh rough 
 and often uncouth in its translation, has the 
 merit of following very closely the inspired 
 original. The number of ministers of the 
 General Synod in 1870 was 31, of churches 
 43, and of members about 4,000. 
 
 V. The Synod of the Reformed Pres- 
 byterian Church, referred to above, which 
 seceded in 1833, is now much larger than 
 the General Synod, having, in 1870, 87 
 churches, 86 ministers, 8,577 members, re- 
 ceived 435 by profession and 288 by certifi- 
 cate, and expended for benevolent purposes 
 and church expenses about $144,000. 
 
 VI. The Associate Reformed Synod 
 OF the South, is the original Associate Re- 
 formed Synod of the Carolinas, which, in 
 1821, became an independent synod and re- 
 fusing to follow the other associate reformed 
 churches in their union with the Associate 
 Presbyterians to form the United Presby- 
 terian church, has existed as a distinct body. 
 It is small in numbers. It does not differ in 
 doctrine from the Associate Reformed Church 
 or the Reformed Presbyterians, except on 
 the subject of slavery, which it tolerated in 
 its membership. Its growth was very slight 
 for some years, but from 1842 to 1852 it 
 increased quite rapidly; since 1863 there has 
 been a decided falling off"; twenty-six of its 
 ministers, and some of the churches, having 
 joined other Presbyterian bodies. In 1870, 
 its statistics were : ordained ministers, 57 ; 
 probationers, 7 ; theological students, 6 ; 
 churches, 66 ; members, about 6,.'jOO. They 
 have a small theological school at Due West, 
 
HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 517 
 
 S. C, and the organ of the church, Tlie As- 
 sociate Reformed Presbyterian, is published 
 at the same phice. 
 
 VII. The Cumberland Presbyterian 
 CuuRCii. This bod)' is Presbyterian in its 
 church government and pohty but ditfers 
 from the other Presbj'terian churches iu its 
 doctrines. It liad its origin in the great re- 
 vival in Kentucky and Tennessee m 179'J 
 to 1803. That revival was mostly among a 
 jieople nominally attached to the Presby- 
 terian Church, and in the camp meetings 
 which the scattered population rendered 
 ntcessarj', there was a pressing demand for 
 a greater number of ordained ministers to 
 preach and to administer the ordinanc s. 
 Under tliis demand some of the memliers of 
 the newly organized Cumberland Presbytery, 
 felt that it would be desirable to select n\:\\ 
 of piety, promise, and a fair education, from 
 the laity, and license and ordain them for 
 tlie work of the mini~try. 'Ihis was accord- 
 ingly done in a few instances with good re- 
 sults. The Synod of Kentucky, however, 
 regarded this proceeding as irregular and 
 passed a resolution requiring the presbytery 
 to present them for ex.iminalion to a com- 
 mission of the synod, and directing the young 
 men to appear. Both the presbytery and 
 tiie young men refused to submit to this ex- 
 amination, and the Synod, in 18(J5, in con- 
 sequence prohibited them from exercising 
 the functions of the ministry. The proscrib- 
 ed ministers, however, continued in the ex- 
 ercise of their ministerial duties, and after in 
 vain appealing to the Synod for a repeal of 
 their action, there was organized, in 1810, 
 in Dickson County, Tennessee, a Cumber- 
 land Presbytery entirely independent of the 
 Synod, and of the Presbyterian Church. 
 Tlie special ditference betwe'.Mi them and the 
 Kentucky Synod is tims set forth in the 
 record of their constitution : "All candidates 
 for the ministry who may hereafter be licens- 
 ed by this presbytery, and all the licentiates 
 or probationers who may hereafter be or- 
 dained by this presbytery, shall be required 
 before such licensure and ordination, to re 
 ceiveand accept the Confession of Faith and 
 Discipline of the Presbyterian Church, ex- 
 cept the idea of fatality that seems to be 
 taugiit under the mysterious doctrine of pre- 
 destination. It is to be understood, however, 
 that such as can clearly receive the Confes- 
 sion of Faith without an exception, will not 
 be required to make any. Moreover, all 
 hcentiatcs, before they are set apart to the 
 
 whole work of the ministry, or ordained, 
 shall be required to undergo an examination 
 in English grammar, geography, astronomy, 
 natural and moral jihilosophy, and church 
 history. It will not be understood that ex- 
 aminations in experimental religion and 
 theology will be omitted. The presbytery 
 may also require an examination on any 
 part or all of the above branches of knowl- 
 edge before licensure, if they deem it expe- 
 dient." 
 
 The growth of this new organization was 
 rapid; in 1813 they Imd three large presby- 
 teries, and a synod was formed in October 
 of that year. A committee was appointed 
 immediately by this Synod to prepare a Con- 
 fession of Faith, Catechism, and form of 
 Church Government. These, when reported, 
 were adopted at a subsequent session, and 
 remain unchanged to the present time. As 
 would be inferred from the constitution of 
 the Presbytery just quoted, their doctrines 
 are less strongly Calvinistic than those of 
 the Presbyterians generally. Rev. Dr. 
 Heard, formerly President of Cumberland 
 College, Princeton, Ky., thus summarizes 
 their doctiines: "That the Scriptures <tte 
 the only infallible rule of faith and practice ; 
 that God is an infinite, ctern;d, and un- 
 changeable Spirit, existing mysteriously in 
 t'.iree persons, the three being equal in power 
 and glory ; that God is the creator and pre- 
 server of all things ; that the decrees of God 
 extend only to what is for His glory ; that 
 He has not decreed the existence of sin, be- 
 cause it is neither for His glory nor for the 
 good of His creatures ; that man was created 
 uiH'ight in the image of God ; but that, by 
 the transgression of the federal head, he has 
 become totally depraved, so much so that he 
 can do no good thmg without the aid of di- 
 vine grace. That Jesus Christ is the medi- 
 ator between God and man ; and that he is 
 both God and man in one person ; that he 
 obeyed the law perfectly, and died on the 
 cross to make satisfaction for sin ; and that 
 in the expressive language of the apostle. He 
 tasted death for every man. That the Holy 
 Spirit is the efficient agent in our conviction, 
 regeneration, and sanctification ; that repent- 
 ance and faith are necessary in order to ac- 
 ceptance, and that both are inseparable from 
 a change of he.art; that justification is by 
 faith alone ; that sanctification is a progress- 
 ive work and not completed till death; tliat 
 those who believe in Christ, and are regen- 
 erated by His spirit will never fall away and 
 
518 
 
 HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 be lost ; that there will be a general resur- 
 rection and judgment ; and that the righte- 
 ous will be received to everlasting happiness, 
 and the wicked consigned to everlasting 
 misery." 
 
 Tlie church polity of the Cumberland 
 Presbyterian church does not differ from 
 that of the Presbyterian church ; it has its 
 teaching and ruling elders, its sessions, 
 presbyteries, synods, and since 1829 a Gen- 
 eral Assembly ; but as a matter of conven- 
 ience, they have adopted the itinerant system 
 of the Methodists, and Iiave many of their 
 churches arranged in circuits. They practice 
 infant baptism, and in the baptism of adults, 
 immerse, sprinkle, or pour as the candidate 
 prefers. They have a university, and two 
 colleges, two theological seminaries, and a 
 number of academies of high grade. Their 
 Boaid of Publication has a small capital, 
 about $7,000, but is very efficient. They 
 publish three or four periodicals. Their 
 Statistics in 1870 were estimated by their own 
 organs as follows: 2.5 synods, 100 presbyte- 
 ries, 1674 ordained ministers, 280 licentiates, 
 320 candidates for the ministry, about 2,000 
 churches, and over 80,000 members. Nearly 
 10,000 communicants were added to the 
 church in 1870. 
 
 VIII. The Ri!formed (late Dutch) 
 Church. This is the oldest, tiiough by no 
 means the largest of the Protestant churches 
 in the United States, being an offshoot of 
 the Reformed Church of Holland, and first 
 planted in New Amsterdam, now New York 
 City, in 1014, though no church was fully 
 organized before 1 628. Its growth was slow 
 for 150 years, being confined almost exclu- 
 sively to the Dutch speaking portion of the 
 citizens, and its pulpit exercises being entirely 
 in Dutch until near the commencement of 
 the present century. It was dependent upon 
 the church in Holland for the education and 
 ordination of its ministry until 1771, when 
 through the efforts of Rev. Dr. Livingston, 
 the Classis of Amsterdam, with which all 
 the churches Iiere were connected, recom- 
 mended them to organize as an independent 
 church and make provision for the education 
 of their ministry. Queen's (afterward Rut- 
 ger's) College, at New Brunswick, was 
 founded about 1770, and a professorship of 
 theology (at first separate from the college) 
 established in New York, with Dr. Livings- 
 ton as professor, in 1781. After the general 
 substitution of English for Dutch in the 
 preaching of its ministers, the church began 
 
 to grow and has maintained a prominent 
 position in New York, New Jersey, and 
 Eastern Pennsylvania, where alone they 
 have any considerable membership. They 
 have outside of these states 52 churches, 
 mostly in Michigan, Illinois, and Wisconsin, 
 and fifteen on missionary ground in India. 
 
 The doctrines of the Reformed church, as 
 laid down in the Belgic confession, the Hei- 
 delberg catechism, and the Canons of the 
 synod of Dort, do not vary in any important 
 point from those of the Westminster confes- 
 sion of faith and catechisms, and are properly 
 reckoned among the Calvinistic confessions 
 of faith. The polity of the church is also 
 Presbyterian, though with different names 
 for the same things. The Consistory, which 
 answers to the church session in the Presby- 
 terian church, is composed of the dominie or 
 pastor, the elders, and the deacons. The 
 elders are chosen for two years, and after an 
 interval of a year may be again elected. 
 The classis answers to the presbytery, and 
 the particular synods to the synods of the 
 Presbyterian church, whUe they ha^e a 
 General Synod instead of a General Assem- 
 bly. They are active in their missionary 
 enterprises, having missions in Amoy, China, 
 and its vicinity, and in Arcot, India. Until 
 1857 they were connected in these mission- 
 ary enterprises with the American Board of 
 Commissioners for Foreign Missions, but in 
 that year they withdrew amicably and have 
 since conducted them successfully alone, and 
 have added a mission in .Japan. They have 
 an old and flourishing college (Rutger's) at 
 New Brunswick, and a Theological seminary 
 at the same place. They have a publish'ng 
 establishment which issues four periodicals, 
 and the denominational Psalmody and other 
 books. 
 
 Their statistics for 1870 were, one Gene- 
 ral Sjiiod, eight particular synods, 33 classes, 
 464 churches, 493 ministers, and 5 candidates, 
 38,552 families, 61,444 members, 3421 in- 
 fants and 974 adults baptized, 3,628 received 
 on confession, and 2,294 by certificate, 48,- 
 411 Sunday School scholars. Benevolent 
 contributions, $1,187,681.03, including those 
 for congregational purposes. In 1868 the 
 different classes voted to drop the word 
 Dutch from their title, and be henceforth 
 known as The Reformed Church. 
 
 IX. The True Reformed Dutch 
 Church. In 1822 Rev. Solomon Froeligh, 
 D. D., of Hackensack, and a few other min- 
 isters seceded, with their congregations, from 
 
HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENG IINATIONS. 
 
 519 
 
 the Reformed (Dutch) Church on the al eged 
 j;rouiKl of the prevailing laxiiess in doctrine 
 and discipline, and organized a church with 
 tlie above title. It has made very little prog- 
 ress, but had in 1862 less than 20 congrega- 
 tions, and about 1500 members. 
 
 X. The Reformed Church in the 
 Unitkd States, (late Gkrman). This, the 
 last though by no means the least of the Amer- 
 ican churches which conform to the Presby- 
 terian polity though ihey do not bear the 
 Presb3'leiian name, is a descendant, though 
 witli some modilications of doctrine, of the 
 Reformed churches of Holland, Germany, 
 France, and Switzerland. Rev. Dr. E. V. 
 Gcrhart, tiie President of its General Synod, 
 and its principal historiographer, states that 
 the fust members of the Reformed Church 
 of Germany, who came to the United States 
 in an}' considerable numbers, were a body 
 of Palatines, who tempted by William Penn's 
 offer of lands, migrated to Pennsylvania and 
 the adjacent colonies, in the early part of 
 the eighteenth century, and many of whom 
 settled east of the Susquehanna. It was 
 among a colony of about 40O of these Pala- 
 tines who settled in Montgomery county, 
 Penn., about 1727, that Rev. Miciiael Weiss, 
 one of their number, organized the first Ger- 
 man Reformed Church. In the twenty yeats 
 which followed, they were without ministers, 
 teachers, or church organizations except this 
 parent church, and though they had nearly 
 thirty thousand of their people, mostly speak- 
 ing Geinian only, within a moderate circuit, 
 they were like sheep without a shepherd. 
 Rev. Michael Schlatter, a German lieformed 
 minister from St. Gall, Switzerland, came 
 over in 1 740 as a missionary from the syn- 
 ods of North and South Holland, to look 
 after their welfare. A man of great energy, 
 skill, and judgment, hesuceeeded, aftera time, 
 in evoking order from this chaos. He or- 
 ganized churches, administered the sacra- 
 ments, located pastors, established schools, 
 and at the end of a year and a half, in Sep- 
 tember, 1747, was able to form the first 
 synod or coetus of the German Reformed 
 Church, consisting of five ministers, and 
 twenty-six elders, who represented forty-six 
 churches, and a population of thirty thou- 
 sand. He then returned to Europe and 
 succeeded in creating a large fund, the inter- 
 est of which was devoted to sustaining min- 
 isters and school teachers among these peo- 
 ple, and brought back with him to America 
 five young ministers, and the promise of a 
 
 number more. This first coetus or synod 
 was, like the Reformed Dutch church, subor- 
 dinate to the classis of Amsterdam, until 
 1793, when it resolved to become independ- 
 ent, the number of churches having increased 
 to one hundred and fifty, thougii there were 
 yet but twenty-two ordained ministers. On 
 becoming independent, the coetus became 
 the synod, and the cimrch took the name of 
 The Higii German Reformed Church in dis- 
 tinction from the Low German or Dutch 
 Reformed Church. There was yet a great 
 scarcity of ministers, and as they had no 
 college or theological seminary, it was found 
 impossible to educate their ministry thor- 
 oughly, and many eirors and irregularities 
 crept into the church. The standard of 
 faith in the Reformed German church was 
 like that of its Holland sister, the Heidel- 
 berg catechism, but unlike the Dutch church, 
 it did not adopt the Belgic confession or the 
 canons of the synod of Dort, as defining the 
 sense in which the postulates of the cate- 
 chism should be held. The rationalism 
 which during the years 1700-1830 was per- 
 vading so many of the German churches, 
 was not without its effect here ; and this 
 effect was produced more readily because 
 the services of the church were conducted 
 wholly in German until 1825. After a long 
 struggle, a theological seminary was estab- 
 lished in 1824, and after two or three re- 
 movals, finally located at Mercersburg, Pa., 
 in 1835. A religious periodical in English 
 was established in 1828, and one in German 
 in 1836. In 1830 a high school was estab- 
 lished at York, which was removed to 
 Mercersburg in 1835, and in 1836 became 
 Marshall College. Seventeen years later 
 (1853) it was consolidated with Franklin 
 College at Lancaster, and removed to that 
 city. The influence of the theological school, 
 under the hands of its able professors Nevin, 
 Ranch, Schaffi and Gerhart, was felt in crys- 
 talizing the church into a unity of doctrine 
 and fiiith which was greatly in contrast with 
 its previous history. Not that there were 
 no dissidents ; in their own ranks there were 
 two parties who opposed the Mercersbin-g phi- 
 losophy and theology, as it began to be called ; 
 those whose sympathies were with the Meth- 
 odist church, and for whom it was too Cal- 
 vinistic, and those who adhered to the Belgic 
 confession and the canons of the synod of 
 Dort, or rather went beyond them in their 
 higher Calvinistic leanings. There was also 
 strong oppositioa manifested to the avowal 
 
520 
 
 IIISTOUY AND PROGRESS OF THE PirFEREXT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 boldly made by the Mercersburg theologians 
 that the Church of Rome, despite its many 
 errors, was a part of the Church of Christ, 
 and that Protestantism was a historical con- 
 tinuation of the Church Catholic ; opposition 
 also came from without to the>e views ; but 
 (Ml the whole they may be safely asserted to 
 111' the views to-day of the great majority of 
 that church. It is a cardinal ]ioiut in this 
 theology that the Apostle's Creed gives form 
 and vitalit}' to the doctrines of the Heidel- 
 berg catechism ; and that any explanation of 
 the catechism which leaves this out of the 
 account is defective, and unsound. Rev. Dr. 
 Gerhart thus summarizes the views held by 
 the JSIi-Tcersburg theologians as thus deduced 
 from the catechism : 
 
 '■1. Adam, created in the image of God, 
 was endowed with capacity to resist tempta- 
 tion and abide in his original state of litie — 
 communion with God ; but he transgressed 
 the command of God by a free act of his 
 own will through the instigation of the devil, 
 the head of the kingdom of darkness. 
 
 2. The fall of Adam was not that of an 
 individual only, but the fall of the human 
 race. 
 
 3. All men are born with the fiillen 
 nature of Adam, and are thus under the 
 power of the kingdom of darkne-s, inclined 
 to all evil, and unapt to any good ; and are 
 subject to tiie wrath of God, who is terribly 
 displeased with their inborn as well as actual 
 Bins, and will punish them in just judgment 
 in time and in eternity. 
 
 4. The Eternal Law of God, incarnate 
 by the Holy Ghost of the Virgin Mary, true 
 God and true man in one person, is the prin- 
 ciple and substance of the new creation. 
 
 5. In tlie mystery of the Word made 
 flesh, the humanity which the Son of God 
 assumed into organic and eternal union witii 
 Himself, is the most perfect of supernatural 
 rerelation, and the only medium of Divine 
 grace. 
 
 6. All the acts of Christ are not those of 
 God or of man separately taken, but the 
 acts of the God-man. 
 
 7. His baptism, fasting, and temptation ; 
 His miracles and His word ; His agony, 
 passion, and death ; His descent into Hades ; 
 His resurrection from the dead, ascension to 
 heaven, and session at the right hand of 
 God ; the coming of the Holy Ghost, and 
 His second advent — all derive their signifi- 
 cance and saving virtue from the mysterious 
 coustitution of his person. 
 
 8. * The atonement for tiie sin of man is 
 the reconciliatioa of God and fallen humanity 
 in the person and work of Jesus Christ. It 
 is not simply tlie ottering of himself on the 
 cross, but the whole |irocess of resuming hu 
 man nature into life. Communion with God, 
 and includes bolh j)erfect satisfaction to the 
 law by suttering the penalty .and all the con- 
 sequences of sill, anil complete victory ov r 
 the devil. The full benelit of the atonement 
 inures to the believer, because by faith he is 
 a member of Christ, and a partaker of his 
 anointing, and thus stands before God in the 
 life and righteousness of Christ. 
 
 9. The Church constituted by the coming 
 of the Holy Ghost, is the mystical body of 
 Cliri>t, a new, real, and objective order of 
 existence, and is both supernatural and nat- 
 ural, divine and human, heavenly and earthly 
 the fulness of him that lilleth all in all ; in 
 who>e communion alone there is redemption 
 fiom sin, and all its consequences, fellowship 
 with God in Christ, and the hope of com- 
 plete victory over death and hell, and of 
 eternal glory. The relation which the new 
 regenerated humanity. His mystical body, 
 bears to Christ the head, the second Adam, 
 is analogous to the organic relation which 
 the old, fallen, accursed humanity bears to 
 the first Adam. 
 
 10. Tiie sacraments are visible, holy 
 signs and seals, wherein God by an objective 
 transaction, confirms to sinners the promise 
 of the Gospel. They are the means, whereby 
 men through the power of the Holy Ghost 
 are made partakers of the substance of di- 
 vine grace, that is of Christ and all his ben- 
 efits. 
 
 1 1 . Holy baptism is a divine transaction, 
 wherein the subject is washed with the 
 blood and spirit of Christ from all the pollu- 
 tion of his sins as certainly as he is washed 
 outwardly with water ; that is, he is renewed 
 by the Holy Ghost, and sanctified to be a 
 member of Christ, that so he may more and 
 more die unto sin, and lead a holy and un- 
 blamable life. 
 
 12. Baptized persons do not attain unto 
 the resurrection of the dead and eternal life 
 in virtue simply of iioly baptism, but only 
 on the condition that, improving the grace 
 of baptism, they believe from the heart on 
 Christ, die unto sin daily, and lead a holy 
 life, and thus realize the full virtue of the 
 incarnation and atonement. 
 
 13. Tiie sacrament of the holy supper is 
 the abiding memorial of the sacrifice of our 
 
HISTORY AND PROGRESS OP TIIE< DIFFKRENT DENOJflNATIONS. 
 
 521 
 
 blt'ssed Saviour, Jesus Christ, for qui* sins, | 
 upon the cross; tlie seal of iiis perpetuiil 
 presence in tlie chinch by the Holy Gho-t 
 the mystical exhibition of his one otieiing of 
 himself made once, but ot force always to 
 put away sin ; the pledge of his undying 
 love to his people, and the bond of his living 
 union and i'ellowship with them to the end 
 of time. In the use of this sacrament, be- 
 lieving coiiiiiiunicants do not onh' commem- 
 orate his piecious death as the one all-suHi- 
 cient, vicarious sacrilici^ for their sins, but 
 Christ himself also, with his crucified body 
 aud shed blood, feeds and nourishes their 
 souls to everlasting lite ; that is, by this visi- 
 ble sign and pledge he assures them that 
 they are really pai takers of his true body 
 and blood, through the woikingof the llolv 
 Ghost, as they receive, by the mouth of the 
 bod}-, these holy tokens in remembrance of 
 him. 
 
 14. The bread and wine of the holy 
 supper are not transmuted into the very body 
 and very blood of Christ, but continue to be 
 natural bread aud wuie ; uor i~ tlie body and 
 blood ol' Car isl consul)stanti:d. that is, in, vvitli. 
 and under the natunil liiead and wne. 1 ut 
 the sacr.imental transact on is a lioly mystery. 
 in wiiioh the full life giving and s:iv.ng virtue 
 of Christ, mediated througli his humanity, is 
 really present by the supernatural power ot 
 the Holy Ghost, and communiented to them 
 who, by true taith, eat and drink worthily, 
 discerning the Lord's body. 
 
 15. At death the righteous pass into a 
 state of joy and felicity and abide in rest aud 
 peace until tliey reach their consummation 
 of redemption and bliss, in the glorious res- 
 urrection of the last da}'. 
 
 IG. The second advent of Christ to judge 
 the woild in righteousness, will complete the 
 objective order of redemption, and also the 
 subjec ive process of life and salvation in 
 his body, the chui-ch ; when the lust enemy. 
 which is death, shall be destroyed ; whi n 
 the saints shall come forth from the dead in 
 the full image of their ri?en Lord, and with 
 Him pass into heaven, the state of perfect 
 blessedness, and the wicked shall ri-e to the 
 resurrection of eternal damnation." 
 
 On points of doctrine not directly connected 
 with the foregoing statements, Dr. Geriiart 
 gives the following summary of the belief 
 of the Reformed Church. 
 
 " Tbe church affirms that the person of 
 Christ is the true principle of sound tlieol- 
 ogy ; that Christianity is a new life, that the 
 
 humanity of Christ is an es-ential constituent 
 of Chrsiianity ; tbat the Christian church is 
 an organic continuation in time and space of 
 the lif» powei-s of the new creation in Christ 
 Jesus; that the covenant is an order or in- 
 stitution of grace, spiritual and real ; that 
 tlie Bible was written by members of the 
 church under plenary inspiration of the Holy 
 Ghost; that private judgment is subordinate 
 to the general judgment of the church as 
 expressed particidarly in the I-^cumenical 
 creeds ; that the Word of God is the only 
 form of faith and practice, and is superior 
 to all creeds and confessions ; that the indi- 
 vidual comes to a right apprehension of the 
 contents of the Bible throuc;h the teachinsr 
 of the church; that the election of grace 
 unto life is effectual in and by the established 
 economy of grace ; that justilication is by 
 an act of faitli in the person and work of 
 Christ; and consists both in the imputation 
 and impartation of Christ and his righteous- 
 ness ; that holy baptism is the sacrament of 
 regeneration, regeneration being the transi- 
 tion from the state of nature to the state of 
 grace, as natural birih is the transition to the 
 natural world ; that regeneration succeeded 
 by conveivion and sanctification completes 
 itself in the resurrection from the dead, in- 
 asmuch as regeneration and salvation pertain 
 to tlie en:ire man, the body no less than the 
 soul ; that believers only hold communion 
 with Christ in the Lord's Supper; that the 
 ordinary, divinely ordained menus of grace 
 are adequate to all the neids of the church 
 and the world, and it faithfully used do not 
 fail to promote a steady and vigorous growth 
 of the chiu-ch ; that although the church of 
 Rome holds many articles of faith, and ap- 
 proves and perpetuates many customs which 
 are not warranted by the Scriptures and are 
 wrong, she is nevertheless a part of the 
 church of Christ ; and that Protestantism is 
 a historical continuation of the Church Cath- 
 olic, in a new and higher form of faith, or- 
 ganization, and practice." 
 
 As to its luorship the Reformed Churdi 
 was originally liturgical and though extem- 
 poraneous prayer has prevailed cluring tl e 
 most of the present century in the regular 
 services of the Lord's Dav, there is now a 
 strong tendency to revert to its tbrnier litur- 
 gical service. After repeated trials and the 
 most careful revision and modifications the 
 ;uces ive liturgical commiitccs of the Gen- 
 eral and the Eastern Synods iiave perfected 
 an "Order of worship (including a liturgy) 
 
522 
 
 HISTORY AND PROGRESS O^ THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 for the Reformed Chuich" which was pub- 
 lished in 18G6, and lias been adopted in most 
 of the churclies of the Eastern synod, and 
 in some of those of the Western synods. It 
 is gaining ground and will probably be event- 
 ually the established book of worship for the 
 entire cluirch. 
 
 The government of the church is strictly 
 Presbyteiian. The consistory, answering to 
 the church session, is composed of tlie pas- 
 tor, eklers and deacons. Both elders and 
 deacons are chosen by the communicant 
 members, for a term of two, three, or four 
 years, generally two years, and ordained by 
 "laying on of hands and installed. When 
 the term expires, the administrative power 
 ceases, but not the office. If reelected, in- 
 stallation is repeated, but not ordination. 
 The classis is the first church court above 
 the church, and consists of the ministers 
 and an elder from each parish within a given 
 distriit. The classes are subject to the 
 synod, which is composed of a given number 
 of ministers and elders, cho-ien by four or 
 more adjacent classes. 'I'he synods are sub- 
 ject to the General Synod, which consists of 
 ministers and elders chosen by all the classes 
 of the church. Appeals to the General 
 Synod may be taken fiom any of the lower 
 church courts. Infant baptism is faithfully 
 and universally obsei'ved. All the childien 
 and youth are carefully catechised by the 
 pastor once in two weeks or oftener, for a. 
 period of from three to nine months in the 
 year. Catechumens possessing the requisite 
 qualifications are, afier examination in pres- 
 ence of the elders, received inlo the fall com- 
 munion of the church by the rite of confiim- 
 ation. The holy eonununion is commonly 
 administered twice a year, and in many of 
 the chui-ehes four times. The comnmnicants 
 receive the sacred emblems liy companies, 
 standing around the altar. They observe 
 the (e-tiva!s, Christmas, Good Friday, Ki.s.ei', 
 and Whit-Sunday with much solemnity. 
 
 The statistics of the Refoimed (German) 
 Chuich lor 1870, are as follows: one Gen 
 eral Synod ; four particular synods, viz : the 
 Eastern, or as it is olHcially called, "'The 
 Synod of the Reformed Church in the United 
 States"; "The Synod of Ohio, and adjacent 
 States" ; " The Synod of the Reformed 
 Church in the Northwest," and the " Pitts- 
 burg Synod of the Reformed Church" ; 
 thirty one classes, 526 ministers, 1170 con- 
 gregations, 217,910 members, of whom, how- 
 ever, only 90,728 are communicants, the 
 
 remainder being baptized children and uncon- 
 fiimed members; l"i,776 were baptized, 
 7,068 confirmed, and 3,59'2 received on cer- 
 tificate. The number of Sunday Schools 
 reported is 1,019, and of Sunday School 
 scholars 49,960. The amount of benevolent 
 contributions, exclusive of those for congre- 
 gatioual purposes, was $76,453. There are 
 2 theological seminaries, one at Jlercersburg, 
 Pa., with 4 prof(3Ssors, and 28 students ; the 
 other at Tiflin, Ohio, with two professors, 
 and 20 students ; a mission house at She- 
 boygan, Wisconsin, with 3 professors, and 22 
 students. There are. two fully organized 
 colleges, Franklin and Marshall, at Lancas- 
 ter, Pa., and Heidelberg College at Tiffin, 
 Ohio. There are also seven classical insti- 
 tut ons, most of them called colleges, five of 
 them in Pa., one in North Carolina, and one 
 in Ohio ; and two female seminaries, one at 
 Allentown, Pa., the other at Tyrconnell, 
 Maiyland. They have eleven periodicals, 
 two quarterly (reviews), four weekly, and 
 one semi niiiiithiy newspapers; a monthly 
 magazine, and three monthly Sunday School 
 papers. Tliere are two printing esUiblish- 
 ments, one at Philadelphia, the other at 
 Cleveland, Ohio. 
 
 V. METHODISTS. 
 
 I. The Methodist Episcopal Church. 
 
 No denomination, in modern times, has 
 had so rapid a growth as the Methodists. 
 Numbering in its various divisions over two 
 million of connnunicants, and having an ad- 
 herent population of nearly eight millions, it 
 seems almost incredible that the first Meth- 
 odist society was organized in New York 
 City in 1766, and that they had no existence 
 as a distinct church until 1784, when- their 
 connection with the Church of England, and 
 with the Protestant Ei)iscopal Church in 
 this country, was formally dissolved, and 
 Thomas Coke, who had received ordination 
 as a Superintendent over the Methodist so- 
 cieties in the United States at the hand of 
 •lohn Wesley ; and Francis Asbury, whom 
 he had in turn ordained for the same office, 
 met a conference of the Methodist Societies 
 at Baltimore, and there assumed the title and 
 position of " Bishops of the Methodist E|ns- 
 copal Church ni America." Tiiis act was 
 displeasing to Mr. Wesley, who ]>rotegted 
 against It in strong terms, and Dr. Coke, 
 
niSTOKY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 523 
 
 wlio subsequently returned to England, never 
 attempted to exercise Episcopal functions 
 there. Still the act was a ju<licious one. and 
 led to the more rapid de\elopnient of the 
 great denomination which sprung from such 
 small beginnings. 
 
 The history of the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church has been one of almost constant suc- 
 cess. There have been, indeed, secessions 
 in considerable numbers from its raidts, as 
 there have from the Wesleyan Methodists of 
 Great Britain, and some of these seceding 
 bodies have themselves attained subseiiuently 
 a large membership, ijut the seceders have 
 not left the church on doctrinal grounds but 
 on diilei-ent views of church polity and dis- 
 cipline. Tims the "African Methodist Epis- 
 copal Church" withdrew, in 1787, on account 
 of the prevailing prejudice against persons 
 of color, and the " Zion African IMethodist 
 Episcopal Chiu'ch," in 1820, for the same 
 reason. The " Methodist Protestant Church" 
 withdrew in 1830, on account of ditlerences 
 in regard to tlie episcopate and lay repre- 
 sentation. '• The Wesleyan Methodist Con- 
 nection of America" seceded in 1843, in 
 consequence of a dilference of views on slav- 
 ery, temperance, and church government. 
 '•The Methodist Episcopal Church, South," 
 by far the largest of the separating bodies, 
 came off in 1844, from dissatisfaction with 
 tlie action of the genend Conference of tiint 
 year, requiring Rev. J. O. Andrew, D. D., 
 one of tlie bishops, to desist from the exer- 
 cise of his episcopal functions on account of 
 his being a slaveholder. vSince 1844 there 
 have been several secessions of small num- 
 bers of churches which have generally be- 
 come extinct or have returned to the church 
 in a few years. The Free Methodists still 
 remain separate, basing their withdrawal on 
 their desire to return to the simplicity, plain- 
 ness, and avoidance of display, either in dress 
 or in the adorimient of their churches, into 
 which, as they allege, the great botly of 
 Methodists have fallen. The marvelous 
 growth of the IMethoilist Episcopal Church 
 is not due to any very great extent, like that 
 of the Roman Catholic Cliurch. to immigra- 
 tion ; considerable numbers of Methodists 
 have, indeed, come here from Great Britain. 
 Ireland, and latterly from Germany and 
 Swedc'i ; but many of thvse have fone into 
 other though kindred denou i atiwis. Its 
 great iiicrcase has been due to the earnest 
 and constant labors of its ministers, local 
 preachers, and class leaders, to its strong 
 
 spirit of propagandism, and to its remarkable 
 adaptation as a religious system, to pioneer 
 life, and to the necessities of a new and only 
 partially settled country. Its triumidis in 
 the western states have been very great ; in 
 several of the slates, and especially in Indiana 
 and Iowa, its adherent population are said to 
 constitute nearly or quite one-half of the peo- 
 ple of the state. Its organization for the jn-o- 
 motion of its objects is very efficient. It main- 
 tains in most of the large cities, and within 
 convenient distance of each other, its denom- 
 inational journals, owned by the General 
 Conference, and advocating its measures. It 
 has a l)ook concern, which, after paving over 
 one-third of its capital to the Methodist Epis- 
 copal Church, South, and dividing its surplus 
 prolits aniong the annual conferences for 
 the support of enfeebled and superannuated 
 preachers, and the widows and children of 
 those who have died in the ministry, is still 
 the largest publishing house in America, 
 having a net capital of $1,458,575, and as- 
 sets to the amount of $2,049,549 in 1870. 
 Every itinerant minister is, by virtue of his 
 position, a colporteur and propagandist for 
 the sale and distribution of its publications. 
 It has largely engaged in the Sunday School 
 work, and througli this means has greatly 
 increased its membership. Its camp meet- 
 ings, love feasts, classes, and other means of 
 appealing to the emotional element in the 
 nature of men, attract many to its worship 
 and to its communion. The gradations in 
 its ministerial service are admirably adapted 
 to promote efficiency in its ministry. The 
 class-leader in charge of a small section of a 
 church, for wlio<e spiritual growth and wel- 
 fare he is in some sense responsible, may, if 
 he develops superior gifts become an ex- 
 horter ; the exhorter in turn may develop 
 into a local preacher, or into an itinerant or 
 circuit preacher, passing through his proba- 
 tion of the diaconate ; the itinerant can look 
 forward to becoming a presiding elder over 
 the churches of a District ; and from the 
 ranks of these come the editors of the de- 
 nominational journals, the managers or 
 agents of the book concern and its branches, 
 and the Bishops. Tliese last have varied 
 and arduous labors to perform, and are liable 
 to bi'eak down from over-work. They have 
 no dioceses like the bishops of the Roman 
 Catholic, Episcopal, and ftloravian churches, 
 but are, in the true sense of the word, bish- 
 ops, — episcopoi, — overseers, of the vrhole 
 church. They visit and preside over tha 
 
524 
 
 niSTOKT AND PROGRESS OF THE I'lFFEBENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 annual conferences, assign, in council with 
 the presiding elders, to the itinerants their 
 charges, visit the missionary fields, superin- 
 tend and manage, in connection with the 
 other officers, the Mi-sionary, Sunday School, 
 and publishing institutions of the church, and 
 constitute, either singly or together, a high 
 court of appeal — in th(; interim of the ses- 
 sions of the Quadrennial Conference — in 
 matters of church polity and discipline, and 
 in those appertaining to the property or 
 finances of the church. 
 
 The college of bishops, when full, has now 
 ten members ; but since the t^uadrennial 
 Conference of 18G8, three, Bishops Thom- 
 son, Kingsley, and Clark, have died, and two 
 others are in such feeble health as to be ca- 
 pable of very little labor. 
 
 The following statement of the doctrines 
 of the Methodist Episcopal Church is slightly 
 abridged from a declaration of their doc- 
 trines, made by Rev. Abel Stevens, D. D., 
 LL. D., the historian of Methodism, and one 
 of their ablest writers. 
 
 The doctrines of the INIethodist Episcopal 
 Church are contained in twenty-five articles, 
 and are a< follows : 1. There is but one 
 living and true Gol, everlasting, without 
 body or parts, of infinite power, wisdom and 
 goodness, the maker of all things visible and 
 invisible. And in unity of this Godhead, 
 there are three persons, of one substance, 
 power and eternity — the Father, the Son, 
 and the Holy Ghost. 2. The Son, who is 
 the Word of the Father, the very and eter- 
 nal God, of one substance with tlie Father, 
 took man's nature in tlie womb of the blessed 
 Virgin ; so that two whole and perfect na- 
 tures, that is to say, tlie Godliead and man- 
 hood, were joined together in one peivon, 
 never to be divided, whereof is one Christ, 
 very God and very man, who ti'uly suffered, 
 was crucified, dead and buried, to reconcile 
 his Father to us, and to be a sacrifice, not 
 only for original guilt but also for the actual 
 sins of men. 3. Christ did truly rise again 
 from the dead, and took again hi-; body, with 
 all things appertaining to llie perfection of 
 man's nature, wherewith he ascended to 
 heaven, and there sitteth until he return to 
 judge all men at the last day. 4. Tlie Holy 
 Ghost, proceeding fi'oin the Father and the 
 Son, is of one substance, majesty, and glory, 
 with the Fatlier and tiie Son, very and eter- 
 nal God. 5. The holy Scriptures contain 
 all things necessary t ) salvation ; so that 
 ■whatsoever U not read therein, nor may be 
 
 proved thereby, is not required of any man, 
 that it should be believed as an article of 
 faith, or be thought requisite or necessary to 
 salvation. By the Holy Scriptures we do 
 understand those canonical books of the Old 
 and New Testaments of whose authority T\as 
 never any doubt in the church. 9. The Old 
 Testament is not contraiy to the New, for 
 both in the Old and New Testament ever- 
 lasting life is offered to mankind by Christ, 
 who is the only mediator between God and 
 man, being bolli God and man. Wherefore 
 they are not to be heard who feign that the 
 old fathers did look oidy for transitory prom- 
 ises. Although the law given from God by 
 ]\Ioses, as touching ceremonies and rites, doth 
 not bind Ciiristians, nor ought the civil pre- 
 cepts thereof of necessity to be received in 
 any commonwealth, yet notwithstanding, no 
 Christian whatever is free from the obedience 
 of the commandments which are called moral. 
 7. Original sin standeth not in the following 
 of Adam, as the Pelagians do vainly talk, but 
 it is the corruption of the nature of every 
 man that is naturall}' engendered of the oft- 
 spring of Adam, wherebj' man is very far 
 gone from original righteousness, and of his 
 own nature inclined to evil, and that contin- 
 uallv. 8. The condition of man alter the 
 fall' of Adam is such, that he cannot turn and 
 prepare himself by his own natural strength 
 and works, to faith and calling upon God ; 
 ^vherefore we have no power to do good 
 works, pleasant and acceptable to God, with- 
 out the grace of God by Christ jire venting 
 us, that we may have a good will, and work- 
 ing with us when we have that good will. 
 1). We are accounted riiihteous before God, 
 oidy for the merit of our Lord and Saviour 
 .lesus Christ by fa th, and not for our own 
 works or deservings ; wherefore, that we are 
 justified by fiiih only, is a most wholesome 
 diiclriue and very full of comfort. 10. Al- 
 tliouglt good works which are the fruits of 
 faith, and follow after justification, cannot 
 put aflay our sins, and endure the severity 
 of God's judgments, jet are they pleasing 
 and acceptable to God in Christ, and spring 
 out of a true and liveh' faith, insomuch that 
 by them a lively faith may be as evidently 
 known as a tree is discerned by its fruit. 
 11. Voluntary works, beside, over and above 
 God's commandments, cannot be taught with- 
 out arrogance and impiety. For by them 
 men do declare that they do not only render 
 to God as much as they are bound to do, but 
 they do n.o.-c lor his sake ihau of bounden 
 
HISTORr AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 525 
 
 duty is re(iuire(l ; whereas Christ saith plain- 
 ly : When ye have done all that is com- 
 manded you, say, We are unprotitable serv- 
 ants. 1 2. Not every sin willingly committed 
 after justification is the sin against the Holy 
 Ghost and unpardonable. Wherefore the 
 grant of repentance is not to be denied to 
 such as fall into sin after justification ; after 
 we have received the Holy Ghost we may 
 fall into sin, and by the grace of God rise 
 again and amend ourselves. And therefore 
 they are to be condemned who say they can 
 no more sin as long as they live here, or deny 
 the place of forgiveness to such as tndy re- 
 pent. 
 
 13. The visible Church of Christ is a con- 
 gregation of faithful men, in which the pure 
 Word of God is preached, and the sacra- 
 ments duly administered according to Christ's 
 ordinance in all those things that of necessity 
 are requisite to the same. 
 
 14. The Romish doctrine concerning pur 
 gatory, pardon, worshipping and adoration as 
 well of images as of relics, and also invoca- 
 tion of saints, is a fond thing vainly invented 
 and grounded upon no warrant of Scripture, 
 but repugnant to the Word of God. 
 
 15. It is a thing plainly repugnant to the 
 Word of God, and the custom of the primitive 
 church, to have public prayers in the church, 
 or to administer the sacraments, in a tongue 
 not understood by the people. 
 
 16. Sacraments ordained of Christ are 
 not only badges or tokens of Christian men's 
 profession, but, rather, they are certain signs 
 of grace, and God's good will toward us, by 
 the which he doth work invisibly in us, and 
 doth not only quicken, but also strengthen 
 and confirm our faith in him. Tiiere are 
 two sacraments ordained of Christ our Lord 
 in the gosjiel ; that is to say, baptism and 
 the supper of the Lord. Those five com- 
 monly called sacraments : that is to say, con- 
 firmation, penance, orders, matrimony, and 
 extreme unction, cannot be counted for sac- 
 raments of the gospel, being such as have 
 partly grown out of the corrupt following of 
 the apostles, and partly are states of life al- 
 lowed in the Scriptures, but yet have not 
 the like nature of baptism and the Lord's 
 supper, because they have not any visible 
 sign or ceremony ordained of God. The 
 sacraments were not ordained of Christ to be 
 gazed upon, or to be carried about ; but that 
 we should duly use them. And in such only 
 as worthily receive the same, they have a 
 wholesome elTect or operation ; but they that 
 
 receive them unworthily, purchase to them- 
 selves condemnation, as St. Paul saith, 1 
 Cor. xi : 29. 
 
 17. Baptism is not only a sign of profes- 
 sion, and mark of difference, whereby Chris- 
 tians are distinguished from others that are 
 not baptized, but it is also a sign of regen- 
 eration, or the new birth. The baptism of 
 young children is to be retained in the Church. 
 
 18. The supper of the Lord is not only 
 a sign of the love that Christians ought to 
 have among themselves one to the other, but 
 rather is a sacrament of our redemption by 
 Christ's death ; insomuch that to such as 
 rightly, worthily, and with faith receive the 
 same, the broad which we break is the par- 
 taking of the body of Christ, and the wine 
 which we drink is a partaking of the blood 
 of Christ. Transubstantiation, or the change 
 of the substance of the bread and wine in the 
 supper of the Lord cannot be proved by Holy 
 Writ, but is repugnant to the plain words 
 of Scripture, overthroweth the nature of a 
 sacrament, and hath given occasion to many 
 superstitions. The bod}' of Christ is given 
 and taken in the supper, cnly after a heavenly 
 and spiritual manner ; and the means where- 
 by the body of Christ is received and taken 
 in the supper, is faith. The sacrament of 
 the Lord's supper was not by Christ's ordin- 
 ance reserved, carried about, lifted up, or 
 worshipped. 
 
 19. The cup of the Lord is not to be de- 
 nied to the lay people, for both the parts of 
 the Lord's supper, by Christ's ordinance and 
 commandment, ought to be administered to 
 all Christians ahke. 
 
 20. The offering of Christ, once made, is 
 that perfect redemption, propitiation and sat- 
 isfaction for all the sins of the whole world, 
 both original and actual, and there is none 
 other satisfaction for sin but that alone. 
 Wherefore the sacrifice of masses, in the 
 which it is commonly said that the priest doth 
 offer Christ for the cjuick and the dead, to 
 have remission of pain or guilt, is a blasphe- 
 mous fable and dangerous deceit. 
 
 21. The ministers of Christ are not com- 
 manded by God's law either to vow the state 
 of single life, or to abstain from marriage ; 
 therefore it is lawful for them, as for all other 
 Christians, to marry at their own discretion, 
 as they shall judge the same to serve best 
 to godliness. 
 
 22. It is not necessary that rites and cere- 
 monies should in all places be the same, or 
 exactly alike, for they have been always dif- 
 
52G 
 
 HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 ferent, and may be changed according to the 
 diversity of countries, times, and men's man- 
 ners, so that nothing be ordained against 
 God's Word. Whosoever, through his pri- 
 vate judgment, wilhngly and purposely doth 
 openly break the rites and ceremonies of the 
 church to which he belongs wliicli are not 
 repugnant to the Word of God, and are or- 
 dained and approved by common authority, 
 ought to be rebuked openly, that others may 
 fear to do the like, as one that otfendeth 
 against the common order of the church, and 
 woundeth the consciences of weak brethren. 
 Every particular church may ordain, change 
 or abolish rites and ceremonies, so that all 
 things may be done to edification. 
 
 23. The president, tlie Congress, the Gen- 
 eral Assemblies, the Governor, the Councils 
 of State, as the delegates of the people, are 
 the rulers of the United States of America, 
 according to the division of power made to 
 them by the Constitution of the United States, 
 and by the constitutions of their respective 
 states. And the said states are a sovereign 
 and independent nation and ought not to be 
 subject to any foreign jurisdiction. 
 
 24. The riches and goods of Christians 
 are not common, as touching the right, title, 
 and possession of the same, as some do falsely 
 boast. Notwithstanding, every man ought, 
 of such things as he possesseth, liberally to 
 give alms to the poor, according to his ability. 
 
 25. As we confess that vain and rash 
 swearing is forbidden Christian men, by 
 our Lord Jesus Christ, and James his apos- 
 tle, so we judge that the Christian religion 
 doth not prohibit, but that a man may swear 
 wlien the magistrate requircth, in a cause of 
 faith and cliarit)', so it be done according to 
 the prophet's teaching, ' in justice, judgment, 
 and truth.' " 
 
 It is proper to notice that as the Metho- 
 dist church, founded by Wesley, was really 
 an offshoot from the Church of England, 
 much of the })hraseology of these articles is 
 taken from the doctrinal standards of that 
 Church. 
 
 The legislative power of the church resides 
 in its General Conference, which meets every 
 four years, and to which the 72 annual con- 
 ferences are subject. This General Confer- 
 ence has hitherto been composed of clerical 
 delegates appointed by the several Annual 
 Conferences. The General Conference of 
 1872 will, however, have a proportion of lay 
 delegates, as do now the Annual Conferences ; 
 lay representation having been approved by 
 
 a two-thirds vote of the membership in 1869, 
 after having agitated the church more or less 
 for forty years, and having been the basis of 
 one or two secessions. The General Con- 
 ference governs and controls the entire 
 Church, but is restricted by its constitution 
 on certain points relative to its doctrines, 
 polity, and distribution of its funds. 
 
 Thu Annual Conferences consist of all the 
 traveling preachers, deacons, and presiding 
 elders of a certain portion of country, usually 
 comprising several districts, each under the 
 charge of a presiding elder. There are now 
 also admitted to these conferences delega- 
 tions of the laity equal in number to the 
 clerical representation. Each conference is 
 presided over by a bishop. The main busi- 
 ness transacted at these conferences is the 
 admission and ordination of preachers ; an 
 examination of the character and official ad- 
 ministration of the ministers belonging to 
 the Conference ; a review of the missionary, 
 educational, and publishing interests ; the 
 apportionment of the Conference funds to 
 inlirm and superannuated preachers, and to 
 the widows and orphans of such within the 
 Conference ; and the assignment of the min- 
 isters to their several stations and circuits 
 for the year ensuing. In each district there, 
 is held a (piarterly conference, composed of 
 the traveling and local ministers, the exhort- 
 ers, stewards, class-leaders, and superintend- 
 ants of Sunday Schools. These conferences 
 are presided over by the presiding elder of 
 the district, and manage the details of local 
 interests connected with the stations or cir- 
 cuits ; serve as courts of appeal in the trial 
 of church members ; grant licenses to preach, 
 and recommend suitable candidates for ad- 
 mission into the Annual Conference. The 
 theory of the itinerancy in the Methodist 
 church as defined by Wesley, was, that it 
 incited the preachers to a greater measure 
 of zeal and enthusiasm as they addressed 
 new congregations so often ; that it made 
 the congregations or churches more attentive 
 to the gospel and less attached to the j)er- 
 sons of those who proclaimed it; that by 
 this method of distributing the various classes 
 of gifts the smaller and poorer locations were 
 sure of receiving a share of the best gifts of 
 which they would otherwise be deprived ; 
 and that, not being influenced by local at- 
 tachments, the preachers would be better 
 fitted to act as pioneers on the frontiers, 
 where, otherwise, they might be less willing 
 (o go. In its practical working other ad van- 
 
HISTORY AND PROGKESS OF TOE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 527 
 
 tages and disadvantages have been developed; 
 and while in a new section of country, it 
 proves successful and has accomplished great 
 good, it is every jear becoming more dis- 
 tasteful to the clergymen and churches in 
 the more densely populated portions of the 
 country. In the cities and larger towns the 
 circuit feature has almost entirely disap 
 peai-ed ; the ministers are pastors of single 
 churches, the only difference being that their 
 stay is limited with a smgle church. This 
 limit was formerly two years, but the Con- 
 ference of 18G8 made it three years. The 
 more eloquent and popular preachers, how- 
 ever, often manage to evade this limit by 
 securing an appointment in the same city in 
 some different capacity, which will allow 
 them to remain as practical pastors of the 
 churches to which they are attached. With 
 indolent and half educated ministers it is 
 alleged that the itinerancj' encourages idle 
 ness, as it renders any considerable study, be- 
 yond the preparation of plans of sermons fur 
 the lirst year or two years, unnecessary ; but 
 the Jlelhodist ministry has buta small jiropor- 
 tion of drones. To be eligible to full con- 
 neittion in an annual Conference and the 
 offi ■& of deacon, a preacher must have trav- 
 eleil two years as a probationer and stood 
 suitable examinations. He is eligible to 
 elders' or ministers' orders after two years 
 further service and another examination. 
 Preachers — i. e., licensed exhorters and dea- 
 cons — are not authorized to baptize or ad- 
 minister the Lord's supper. Elders or min- 
 isters are ordained by the bisho|)s, and ni;iy 
 administer all the ordinances. Stewards are 
 persons chosen by the Quarterly Conferences 
 to take cliarge of and d.sburse all funds col- 
 lected for the poor, the support of the minis- 
 try, and sacranientid purposes. Cla- s-leaders 
 are appointed by the ministers; their duty 
 is to see all the members of their respective 
 classes once a week, to learii their spiritual 
 condition, and to receive their contributions 
 for church purposes. Clashes usually con- 
 sist of twelve or more persons. 
 
 The statistics of the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church, in 1870, were as follows: Bishops 
 8; travelling preachers, 9,19 J; local preach- 
 ers, 11,404; total preachers, 21,234; mem- 
 b'rs in full connection, 1,173,099; members 
 on proliatioii, 194,035; total lay members, 
 1,307,134; adult baptisms, 60,481; infont 
 baptisms, 50,453; toial baptisms, 116,934; 
 number of churches, 13 373; number of par- 
 sonage ,4,179 ; value of church ediiices, S52,- 
 
 614,591; value of parsonages, $7,293,513; 
 number of Sunday schools, 16.912; number 
 of Sunday school teachers, 189,412; number 
 of Sunday school scholars, 1,221,393 ; amount 
 of benevolent collections, (aside from church 
 expenses,) $967,862. 
 
 II. The Methodist Episcopal Chukcr, 
 South. This body seceded from the " Meth- 
 odist Episcopal Church" in 1844, on the 
 following grounds : It was well known that 
 John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, 
 was opposed to slavery, declaring it to be 
 '• the sum of all villauies ;" but the Metho- 
 dist Episcopal Church having a large mem- 
 bership in the Southern states, had gl•o^\^l 
 lax on the subject, and as for many years 
 there was very little agitation on the ques- 
 tion, many slaveholders became members 
 and a considerable number ministers of the 
 church. In 1»28, one of these latter, known 
 to be a slaveholder, was sent as the repre- 
 sentative of the Methodist Episcopal Church 
 to the British Wesleyan Conference. In 
 1810, the General Conference declared by 
 formal resolution, that " the mere ownership 
 of slave property, in states or territories 
 where the laws do not admit of emancipa- 
 tion, and permit the liberated slave to enjoy 
 freedom, constitutes no legal barrier to the 
 election or ordination of ministers to the 
 various grades of office known in the ministry 
 of the " Methodist Episcopal Church." In 
 1841, however, the feeling of opposition to 
 slavery began to be renewed in the General 
 Conference, which was. held in New York 
 City, and proceedings not assuming judicial 
 form, and unaccompanied with any regular 
 impeachment, were instituted against Rev. 
 •James O. Andrew, D. D., who had been one 
 of the bishops since 1832, a titizen of Geor- 
 gia, who had married a lady possessing many 
 slaves. These proceedings, after a protracted 
 debate, were terminated by an act passed by 
 a majority of the Conference requiring the 
 bishop to desist from his functions, on ac- 
 count of this connection with slavery. There- 
 upon the representatives of thirteen of tho 
 thirty-three annual conferences of which the 
 church was then composed, (being those em- 
 braced in the slaveholding states,) presented 
 a declaration which set forth their solemn 
 conviction that a continuance of the juris- 
 diction of the General Conference over the 
 annual conferences thus represented, would 
 be inconsistent with the success of the 
 Methodist ministry in the slaveholding states, 
 The declaration was accompanied by a for. 
 
528 
 
 JIISTOUT AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 mal protest against the action of the major- 
 ity in Bishop Andrew's case, and thus led to 
 thw adoption by tlio General Cont'erenee of 
 a plan of separation, according to which 
 there was contemplated an amicable adjust- 
 ment of boundary lines, and a fair division 
 of property, should the annual cojiferences 
 in the slaveholding states find it necessary 
 to unite in an ecclesiastical connection dis- 
 tinct from that of the North. The church 
 in the South and South-west, in primarj' as- 
 semblies, and in quarterly and annual con- 
 ferences, sustained the declaration of the 
 delegates, and measures were immediately 
 adopted for the assembling of a convention. 
 This was held in May, 1845, at Louisville, 
 Ky. Acting under the provisions of the 
 plan of sei)aration, and in pursuance of the 
 formal instructions of the annual conferences, 
 the convention dissolved the jurisdiction of 
 the General Conference over the conferences 
 there represented, and created a separate 
 ecclesiastical connection under the title of 
 " The ftlethodist- Episcopal Church, South." 
 The first General Conference of this organ- 
 ization was held at Petersburg, Va., in l84(5. 
 There was some difficulty in arranging all 
 the details for the separation, and owing to 
 the repudiation of the plan of separation 
 by the General Conference of the '• Metho- 
 dist Episcopal Church" in 1848, the division 
 of the property of the Book concern, pro 
 rata, was only accomplished after a lawsuit 
 in 1853. In 1845 the statistics of the 
 Jlethodist Episcopal Church, South, were : 5 
 bishops, 13 annual conferences, 1,384 trav- 
 eling preachers, 90 superannuated jircachers, 
 2,550 local preachers, 330,710 white mem- 
 bers, 124,811 colored members, 2,978 In- 
 dians ; total 402,428. This was almost one- 
 half of the whole membership of the Meth- 
 odist Episcopal Ciuirch before the division. 
 In 1859, there were six bishops, 24 annual 
 preachers, 1,661 traveling preachers, 5,177 
 local preachers, 511,601 white members, 
 197,348 colored members, 4,236 Indians; 
 total, 721,023. They continued to increase 
 until the war, when they lost a large number 
 of their colored members, who preferred 
 the African organizations, and after the 
 emancipation proclamation, and the ratifica- 
 tion of the XlVth and XVth amendments 
 to the constitution of the United States, the 
 basis on which the}- had made their separa- 
 tion was removed. The twenty-seven years 
 of separate organization have however, made 
 them indisposed for a reunion, and they 
 
 repel all overtures looking to such a measure, 
 with considerable bitterness. Their doctrinal 
 views are identical with those of the '■ Meth- 
 odist Episcopal Church," and there is no 
 difference in their polity or discipline. They 
 have now when the board of bishops is full, 
 nine, but 15ishop Andrew having recently 
 deceased, there are but eight now acting; 
 there are 30 conferences, 2,646 traveling 
 and 187 superannuated preachers, 4,753 
 local preachers, 540,820 white members, 
 19,616 colored members, (only one tenth of 
 what they had in 1829,) 3,149 Indians ; a 
 total of 571,241. 
 
 Ill, and IV. The two African Meth- 
 odist Episcopal Churches. The A. M. 
 E. Church proper, and the Zion A. M. E. 
 Church may perhaps with propriety be con- 
 sidered together, inasmuch as overtures are 
 now pending for their consolidation. Both 
 profess to be identical in tlieir doctrinal 
 views with the Methodist Episcopal Church, 
 and their polity and government difl^er but 
 slightly. The first has bishops, but permits 
 lay representation to a limited extent in its 
 General Conference from the ranks of the 
 local preachers, and gives in its annual con- 
 ferences equal privileges to the traveling and 
 local preachers. The Zion Church has no 
 bishops, but general superintendents in their 
 place, elected every four years. Its Genei'al 
 Conference is composed of all the traveling 
 ministers in the connection, but no lay dele- 
 gation is allowed. An African church se- 
 ceded in 1787, under the name of the Bethel 
 African M. E. Church, but this was subse- 
 quently absorbed into the Methodist Episco- 
 pal Church. In 1816, however, some of the 
 more eminent of the colored Methodist 
 ministers believng that they could be fieer 
 and more useftd in a separate communion, 
 called a convention in Philadelphia, and 
 organized the ''African Methodist Episcopal 
 Church. Its growth has been moderate 
 but steady until the emancipation proclama- 
 tion in 1863, which has led to a great in- 
 crease in its membership. It has now ten 
 conferences, seven bishops, over 600 travel- 
 ing and 1200 local preachers, 586 churches, 
 200,000 communicants, over 500 Sunday 
 Schools, and more than 1 200 day schools. 
 Its adherent population is not less than 600,- 
 000. The property of the Church, in schools, 
 colleges, and church edifices, exceeds four 
 million dollars, It owns Wilberforce Uni- 
 versity, near Xenia, Green Co., Ohio, and 
 four seminaries of a high class at Baltimore, 
 
HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 r,-2c 
 
 J\lil. ; Columbus, Ohio ; Alleghany, and Pitts- 
 burgli, Pa. Tiiey have a Book concern at 
 Philadelphia, and issue a weekly and a month- 
 ly religious periodical. 
 
 The '■'African Methodist Episcopal Zion 
 Church" seceded from the Methodist Episco- 
 )ial Church in 1820, and held its first annual 
 conference in New York, in 1821. Its se- 
 cession was in consequence of some differ- 
 ences of opinion in regard to church govern- 
 ment. Its growth was slow until the war, 
 when it shared with the African M. E. 
 Church, in the large influx of colored Meth- 
 odi-ts previously connected with the church 
 soutli. and in a very large accession of new 
 converts. Being very much straitened for 
 means for the support of their schools and 
 churches just after the war, they appealed to 
 Congregationalists, to Unitarians, and to 
 Friends for assistance, and received a consid- 
 erable amount from each. They had ex- 
 pected to consummate a union with the 
 African M. E. Church in 1868, but from 
 some cause the union has been delayed, but 
 will probably be completed in 1872. They 
 have six general superintendents (answering 
 to bishops, but elected for four years), 694 
 traveling and about 1300 local preachers, 
 nearly 700 churches, and about 164,000 
 members. 
 
 V. The Evangelical Association, 
 called also Albright Methodists, from the 
 n ime of their founder, is an ecclesiastical 
 body of great energy and activity, which 
 took its rise in Eastern Pennsylvania, about 
 ] T'.tO, from the labors of Rev. Jacob Albright, 
 a German Methodist minister, who sought 
 to jiromote a religious reform among the 
 Germans of that region. It was not organ- 
 ized as a chui-ch till about 1800, when Mr. 
 Albright was unanimously elected and or- 
 dained as their pastor and bishop. 
 
 Sixteen years later they had become so 
 numerous as to organize a general confer- 
 ence. For the first thirty years of their 
 existence, the Evangelical Association met 
 with violent opposition, but since 1830 it has 
 made rapid progress. In doctrines and 
 tlieology the association is substantially one 
 with the Methodist Episcopal Church ; and 
 its mode of worship and usages are essen- 
 tially methodistic; in its church government 
 it has a General Conference meeting every 
 lour years, and constituting its highest legis- 
 lative and judicial authority. The General 
 Conference elects its bishops for four years ; 
 they may be re-elected, but if not, hold no 
 32* 
 
 higher rank or privilege than an elder after 
 their term of service is expired. The annual 
 conferences elect their presiding elders for 
 the same term, and these return to the itin- 
 erancy at the expiration of their term of 
 service. There are also quarterly confer- 
 ences, in which a lay delegation is allowed, 
 but not in the Annual or General Confer- 
 ences. The statistics of the " Evangelical 
 Association" in 1869 were as follows: Two 
 bishops, fourteen annual conferences, 798 
 churches, 500 itinerant, and 377 local preach- 
 ers, 65,691 members, 863 Sunday Schools, 
 with 45,175 scholars, 153 mission stations 
 in America, and Europe ; a full complement 
 of Missionary, Sunday School, Tract, and 
 Charitable societies, a publishing house at 
 Cleveland ; four periodicals, a college, an 
 oi-phan institution, several seminaries, 207 
 parsonages, and church property to the value 
 of about $2,000,000. 
 
 VI. The " Methodist Protestant 
 Church," an organization which was form- 
 ed of seceders from the " Methodist Episco- 
 pal Church" in 1830, the secession being 
 based on the grounds of dissatisfaction with 
 the Episcopate, and the refusal of lay repre- 
 sentation. In doctrinal ^iews, they accejjt 
 the standards of the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church, but have no bishops. Their gene- 
 ral conference, which meets once in seven 
 3-cars, and is composed of one ministerial and 
 one lay delegate for every thousand commu- 
 nicants, is the governing body ; and in the 
 interim of its sessions, its president and the 
 officers of the diiferent committees and soci- 
 eties created by it, exercise administrative 
 authority to a limited extent. The annual 
 conferences, composed of ministers only, 
 elect their own presidents, and possess au- 
 thority within their own bounds. Its quar- 
 terly conferences, exhorters, class-leaders, 
 stewards, etc., are copied after the Methodist 
 Episcopal pattern. The church had in 1870 
 423 itinerant, and about 860 local preachers, 
 nearly 900 churches, and about 72,000 com- 
 municants. It does not seem to be growing, 
 for its statistics in 1858 were considerably 
 larger than these figures. It has seven col- 
 legiate institutions, three of them for females; 
 two other literary institutions ; small book 
 concerns at Baltimore, Md., and Springfield, 
 Ohio, and four periotlicals. 
 
 VII. "The Methodist Chukch," is an- 
 other branch of the Methodist family, of 
 which we only know that it reported in 1870 
 624 preachers, and 49,030 members. Its 
 
530 
 
 HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 doctrines are probably not different from 
 those of the other Methodist bodies ; it has, 
 we believe, no bishops. 
 
 VIII. "The Wkslf.tan Methodist 
 Connection of America," was organized 
 ill 1843, and composed mainly of seceders 
 from the " Methodist Episcopal Church." 
 The seceders were strongly opposed to slav- 
 ery, and desirous of having the church purg- 
 ed from it; they were also ardent temper- 
 ance men, and hostile to all traffic in intoxi- 
 cating liquors as a beverage. The " Metho- 
 dist Episcopal Church," which subsequently 
 took advanced grounds on both these sub- 
 jects, was not at this time willing to do so, 
 and disciplined its members who urged it. 
 The consequence was the organization of the 
 Wesleyan Methodist Connection of Amer- 
 ica, at Utica, May 31, 1843. Their doc- 
 trines are the same with those of the Metho- 
 dist Episcopal Church, except two rules of 
 morality, one excluding from church mem- 
 bership and Christian fellowship all who 
 buy or sell men, women, or children, with 
 intent to enslave, or hold them as slaves, or 
 claim that it is right to do so ; and the other, 
 excluding from memliership or fellowship 
 all who manufacture, buy, sell, or use intox- 
 icating liquors, or in any way, intentionally 
 and knowingly, aid others so to do, except 
 for mechanical, chemical, or medicinal pur- 
 poses. In its church government, the Wes- 
 leyan Connection is democratic, holding to 
 complete ministerial equality and the power 
 of each church to act for itself. They lia\e 
 an equal representation of ministers and lay- 
 men in their general conference, and these 
 are elected by the annual conferences which 
 are composed of all the ministers and an 
 equal number of laymen in their several 
 geographical bounds. They do not seem to 
 have increased since the war, numbering 
 onlv 2.'iO ministers, and about 20,(100 com- 
 municants in 1870, against 300 ministers, 
 and 2(t,0(iO members in 1858. They have 
 two collegiate institutions, one at St. Louis, 
 Jackson Co., Mich., the other — the Illinois 
 Institute — at AVheaton, Du Page Co., Illin- 
 ois. They have also one newspaper, "77ie 
 True Wrsleyan." 
 
 IX. The Free JIetiiodists .are the lat- 
 est seceders from the Methoilist Episcopal 
 Church. They profess to have left it on the 
 ground of its increasing formalism and con- 
 formity to worldly customs and fashions in 
 dress, .and in the construction, adornment, 
 and music of the churches. Tliev advocate 
 
 a return to the early plainness of costume, 
 the avoidance of all ornaments and jewelry^, 
 and the simplicity and bareness of architect- 
 ure which characterized the early Metho- 
 dists and their houses of worship. With 
 this they also desire to restore the ancient 
 zeal, fervor, and earnestness of the immedi- 
 ate followers of Wesley and his successors. 
 They number about one hundred ministers, 
 and perhaps 7,000 communicants, and have a 
 newspaper — 77te Free Methodist — edited 
 with a good deal of zeal and spirit. 
 
 X. The Primitive Methodist Church 
 is a branch of the church of the same name 
 in Great Britain, but has not attained to any 
 very considerable numbers here ; its mem- 
 bers being mostly immigrants who had been 
 connected with it before migrating to this 
 country. In England it originated in 1807, 
 in a secession from the Wesleyans, on 
 grounds of polity ; the seceders desiring to 
 maintain camp meetings, house to house vis- 
 itation and religious outdoor services, and 
 the employment of female preachers to some 
 extent, with a view to reach the lower and 
 more depraved classes, and the Wesleyans 
 declining to sanction any such movements. 
 The Primitive Methodists, like the Free 
 IMethodists, are very zealous and earnest. 
 Their doctrines do not differ from those of 
 Wesley ; but in church government they are 
 democratic, having no bishops, and in their 
 conferences, have two lay delegates for every 
 minister. They number in the United States 
 about 20 itinerant, and 35 or 40 local 
 preachers, nearly 40 churches, and a mem- 
 bership of .about 2,200. 
 
 XI. The Welsh Calvinistic Method- 
 ists are not a numerous body in the United 
 States, and are only Methodists in their 
 church }H)lity and government, their doc- 
 trinal views being more Calvinistic than 
 Anninian, and assimilating in this respect to 
 the Congregationalists, or to the Calvinistic 
 portion of the clerg}' of the Church of Eng- 
 land. They were in England an outgrowth 
 of the labors of Whitfield and his successors. 
 Indirectly, they were also a result of the 
 organization of Lady Huntingdon's Connex- 
 ion, with which their dt)ctrinal views fully 
 corresponded. In the United States they 
 are found principallj' among the Welsh, and 
 some efforts to organize other churches, as 
 Congregational Methodists, i. e., with Cal- 
 vinistic doctrines, and Methodist polity and 
 government, have ]iroved failures, tha 
 churches either becoming wholly Congrega- 
 
HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF TBE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 531 
 
 tioiuil, or joining some of the Methodist 
 sects. The Welsh Calvinistic Methodists 
 munber probably not more than 3,000 com- 
 miaiicants. 
 
 XII. United Brethren in Christ, or 
 Gi'.KMAN Mkthodists. This denomination, 
 though not properly Methodists in name, are 
 yet so far in unison with them in doctrines 
 and polity, that they come more appropri- 
 ately under the classification of Methodists 
 than any other. The '• United Brethren in 
 Christ" owe their origin to the labors of 
 Philip James Otterbein, a native of Dillen- 
 burg, Germany, born June 4, 1726, and or- 
 dained to the ministry of the German Re- 
 form 'd Church, at Ilerborn, Germany, in 
 17-iy. He was sent to America as a mis- 
 sionary by the Synod of Holland in 17J2, 
 and settled at Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Not 
 long after his arrival he became convinced 
 that he was a stranger to vital godliness, and 
 ere long experienced, as he believed, a 
 change of heart. He very soon began to 
 niaiiife>t his zeal by instituting meetings dur- 
 ing the week for prayer and religious con- 
 ference, and finding that the region round 
 about was in a condition of great spiritual 
 destitution he made long preaching tours, 
 and held what were called "great meetings " 
 in barns and groyes throughout that region, 
 liis labors being attended with great success. 
 Persons who had experienced a change of 
 lieart, whatever their ecclesiastical relations, 
 were invited to take a part in these meet- 
 ings, and among those who accepted the in- 
 vitation was Martin Boehm, a Mennonite 
 preacher of great zeal and earnestness. At 
 llie close of one of Boehm's most effective 
 sermons Otterbein rose, and embracing him 
 exclaimed : " We are brethren !" The name 
 (if United Brethren in Christ was adopted 
 by their followers from this time. Otterbein 
 and Boehm labored together for more than 
 fifty years ; and what at first seemed a revival 
 in the different churches gradually became 
 agglomerated into a distinct denomination, 
 with its hundreds of preachers, called for the 
 most part from the working classes, and ex 
 ereising their gifts at first as lay preachers 
 and subsequently licensed and ordained by 
 the leaders or by some of those whom they 
 liad set ajiart for the ministry. At Otter- 
 bein's death, in 1813, the "Brethren" were 
 already a large and infiuential body ; they 
 have since increased with considerable rapid- 
 ity, and ado])ting the Methodist polity of 
 (juarterly, annual, and general Conferences, 
 
 itinerants, bishops, and presiding elders, they 
 have come to be a well organized and effi- 
 cient body. Their first organization as dis- 
 tinct churches date<, we believe, from 1774. 
 In their theological views they are Armi- 
 nians, agreeing very nearly with the Wes- 
 leyan Methodists, in England, and the Meth- 
 oilist Episcopal Church in the United States. 
 On a few points only are they peculiar. In 
 common with most of the evangelical churches 
 they require evidence of a change of heart 
 as indispensable to membership, but they 
 ]irohibit membership to slaveholders, to ad- 
 hering members of any secret society or or- 
 ganization, and to those who manufacture, 
 sell, or drink intoxicating liquors. Baptism 
 is administered either by pouring, sprinkling, 
 or immersion, as the candidate may prefer ; 
 infants are baptized when desired. Open 
 communion is practised and the ordinance 
 of foot-washing, as observed by several of 
 the minor German sects, is optional, some of 
 the churches observing it, while others do 
 not. For the first fifty years of their history 
 their ministers confined their labors almost 
 exclusively to the German-speaking popida- 
 tion, but now they have as many English as 
 German churches. Their statistics in 1870 
 were as follows : thirty-eight annual confer- 
 ences, one general conference, four bishops 
 who are elected for four years, and may be 
 re-elected, about 900 itinerant and over 800 
 local preachers ; 3,924 organized societies ; 
 1,473 church edifices, with 483,099 settings; 
 118,055 members; 2,420 Sunday schools, 
 with 10,417 teachers and 112,426 scholars; 
 collections for church purposes, 580,288 ; 
 value of church property, $2,506,600. They 
 have at Dayton, Ohio, an extensive publish- 
 ing establishment which issues numerous 
 books, and beside an annual almanac or year 
 book, five periodicals ; a German and an 
 English weekly religious newspaper, a month- 
 ly German, and a semi-monthly English, 
 child's paper, and a missionary periodical iu 
 English, semi-monthly. They have six col- 
 leges; Otterbein University at Westville, 
 Ohio ; Hartsville University, at Hartsville, 
 Ind. ; "SVestfield College, at Westfield, 111. ; 
 Lebanon Valley College, Annville, Pa. ; 
 Lane University, Lecompton, Kan. ; and 
 Western College, Western Iowa. Sublimity 
 College, Oregon, has passed out of their 
 hands for want of adequate funds for build- 
 ings and endowment. They have also three 
 or four female seminaries and collegiate 
 schools 
 
532 
 
 HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 V. CONGKEGATIONALISTS. 
 
 In its broadest sense tlie name CoN- 
 GREGATiONAl.isT IS applicable to all the de- 
 nominations which hold to tlie independence 
 of each chuiuii and to the democratic form 
 of church g(jverniuent and polity. In this 
 sense the Regular Baptists, and, indeed, al- 
 most all the denominations which we have 
 ranged under the general head of " Baptists" 
 as well as the Friends, the Unitarians, and 
 tJie Universalists, are as truly Congregation- 
 alists as the churches distinctively known by 
 that name. In common usage, however, the 
 name is applied almost exclusively to those 
 churches which are Augustinian and Cal- 
 vinistic in doctrine, Trinitarian in belief, and 
 Pa;do-baptist in practice ; and who holding 
 these views unite with them a democratic 
 church polity, the independence of each 
 church, and a fellowship and inter-communion 
 with all churches holding like views. 
 
 Wliile there were undoubtedly isolated 
 congregations in England in the sixteenth 
 century, which maintained substantially con- 
 gregational views and organization. Rev. 
 John Robinson, first of Scrooby, Nottingham- 
 shire, England, and afterwards of Leyden, 
 Holland, is generally regarded as the father 
 of Congregationalism. His church was or- 
 ganized in 1606, and removed almost bodily 
 to Holland in 1 008 in consequence of perse- 
 cution- After a pastorate of about twelve 
 years in Amsterdam and Leyden, a majority 
 of the church, under Ekler William Brews- 
 ter, determined to emigrate to America, and 
 after many j^erils and troubles, landed at 
 Plymouth, Massachusetts, Dec. 21, 1620, 
 having previously organized as an independ- 
 ent clr. h and as a civil community. Others 
 followed soon after, and Robinson liiraself 
 intended to come, but died just as he was 
 about to sail. The colonists of Massachu- 
 setts Bay were at first Non-conformists, but 
 they presently adopted the Congregational 
 Order. In JIassachusetts and Connecticut, 
 as well as in the then province of Maine, and 
 the colonies of New Hampshire and Ver- 
 mont, at a later period, the Congregational- 
 ists were the dominant sect or denomination, 
 and in the two former colonies and subse- 
 quent states, retained a somewhat peculiar 
 connection with the state, which, though mod- 
 ified, was not wiioUy abrogated in Connecti- 
 cut till 1818, and in Massachusetts in 1833. 
 Every householder, or person liable to pay 
 taxes, was regarded as primarily subject to 
 a tax for the support of religious worship in 
 
 the Congregational church, or, as it was 
 tisually called " the standing order ;" and 
 this liability, if he possessed property, could 
 oidy be avoided by his " signing off," or 
 avowing himself a tax-payer for the support 
 of some other of the tolerated denominations. 
 At first even this was not permitted, except 
 in the case of members of the Church of 
 England, but gradually more liberal views 
 prevailed. This compulsory taxation was 
 abrogated in Connecticut by the constitution 
 of 1818, and in Massachusetts by a constitu- 
 tional amendment, in 1833. In 1770, the 
 number of communicants in the Congrega- 
 tional churches of the thirteen colonies was 
 about 112,000, almost all of whom were in 
 New England, though two or three churches 
 were planted about that time in Georgia and 
 South Carolina. In 1801, a Plan of Union 
 was agreeil upon between the Presbyterian 
 Church and the General Association (of 
 Congregationalists) of Connecticut, which, at 
 that time was an active missionary body. 
 This plan of Union provided that in any new 
 place where there were members of Congre- 
 gational and Presbyterian cluirches, to avoid 
 the establishment of weak and feeble church- 
 es, the members of the two denominations 
 should unite to form a church which should 
 be either Presbyterian or Congregational as 
 the majority of^ its members might decide, 
 and if Congregational, that it should still 
 have a qualified right of representation in 
 the Presbytery. Under this arrangement, 
 which continued in full force till 1837, and 
 was not completely abrogated tjH 1852, the 
 greater part of the advantages enured to the 
 Presbyterians, very feW Congregational 
 churches being organized in the middle and 
 western states, and a considerable portion 
 even of these, under the arrangement for 
 representation in the Presbyteries, gradually 
 becoming Presbyterian. It resulted from 
 this liberality, that while there were nearly 
 a hundred thousand former members of Con- 
 gregational churches who had contributed to 
 swell the numbers of the Presbyterian and 
 Reformed churches, the actual munber of 
 communicants in Congregational churches in 
 the entire country, in 1850, at the expiration 
 of eighty years from 1770, did not much ex- 
 ceed 200,000. There had been in this inter- 
 val, it is true, a very considerable loss in 
 Massachusetts (mostly from 1810 to 1830) 
 by the fiilling away of the Unitarians. This 
 had probably caused a diminution of fifteen 
 to ciKhteeu thousand members. But soon 
 
Ea 
 
HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 533 
 
 afttr 1.S4I) tliere was a spirit of greater ac- 
 tivity and aixgie^sive action roused in the 
 Congregational churches. This found ex- 
 pression, in 1852, in the National Congrega- 
 tional Convention, a sort of General Synod 
 or Council, which met at Albany. This 
 Convention initiated measures for greater 
 denominational missionary activity, advised 
 the raising of a fund of SIOO.OOO to aid in the 
 erection of Congregational churches in the 
 new states and territories, and largely in- 
 creased efforts for the extension of Congre- 
 gationalism as a denominational organization. 
 As a result of this Convention and the spirit 
 which prompted it, the growth of the denom- 
 ination has been rapid and healthy in the 
 western states and territories, and during 
 the recent war and since, it has proved itself 
 possessed of great energy and ability in pro- 
 pagating Christianity iu its simpler forms 
 throughout the country. The Presbyterians 
 and the Reformed (Dutch) Church had for- 
 merly been associated with the Congrega- 
 tionalists in both Home and Foreign Mis- 
 sionary enterprises, but the Old School 
 branch of the Presbyterians withdrew from 
 both about 1837; the Keformed, in 1857; 
 and the New School branch of the Presby- 
 terians partially from the Home Missionary 
 Society in 1853 or 1854, and wholly in 1865, 
 and from the American Missionary Associa- 
 tion about the same time ; and at the re- 
 union of the two branches of the Presbyte- 
 rian church in 1870, the New School mem- 
 bers withdrew a'so from the American Board 
 of Commissioners of Foreign Missions, tak- 
 ing with them three or four of the Missions. 
 The Congregationalists have, however, man- 
 fully taken the entire burden on their own 
 shoulders, and are maintaining these organ- 
 izations ill their full vigor. In 1865, an- 
 other General Synod, or National Council, 
 was held in Boston, which has resulted in a 
 further development of denominational as 
 well as of Christian activity. This CouncU 
 adopted a Declaration of Faith, the first au- 
 thoritative exposition of their views of doc- 
 trine and liolity, which had had the full sanc- 
 tion of the denomination ; though earlier 
 General Synods — those of Cambridge in 
 1637 and 1046 — and the partial one of Say- 
 brook in 1708, had adopted in general terms, 
 and for substance of doctrine, the Westmins- 
 ter and Savoy Confessions of Faith, and the 
 " Cambridge Platform," and the " Saybrook 
 Platform " of polity and discipline. 
 
 This '• Declaration of Faith" adopted in 
 
 18G5, on Burial Hill, Plymouth, Mass., is as 
 follows : 
 
 " Standing by the rock where the Pilgrims 
 set foot upon these shores, upon the spot 
 where they worshipped God, and aniong the 
 graves of the early generations, we, elders 
 and messengers of the Congregational church- 
 es of the United States in National Council 
 assembled, like them acknowledging no rule 
 of faitK but the Word of God, do now declare 
 our adherence to the faith and order of the 
 apostolic and primitive churches held by our 
 fathers, and substantially as embodied in the 
 confessions and platforms which our synods 
 of 1648 and 1680 set forth or re-affirmed. 
 We declare that the experience of the nearly 
 two and a half centuries which have elapsed 
 since the memorable day when our sires 
 fomided here a Christian commonwealth, with 
 all the development of new forms of error 
 since their times, has only deepened our con- 
 fidence in the faith and polity of those fathers. 
 W^e bless God for the inheritance of these 
 doctrines. We invoke the help of the Divine 
 Redeemer, that through the presence of the 
 promised Comforter he will enable us to 
 transmit them in jiurity to our children. 
 
 " In the times that are before us as a na- 
 tion, times at once of duty and danger, we 
 rest all our hope in the Gospel of the Sun 
 of God. It was the grand peculiarity of our 
 Puritan fathers, that they held this Gospel, 
 not merely as the ground of their personal 
 salvation, but as declaring the worth of man 
 by the incarnation and sacrifice of the Son 
 of God ; and therefore applied its principles 
 to elevate society, to regulate education, to 
 civilize humanity, to purify law, to reform 
 the church and the state, and to assert and de- 
 fend liberty ; in short, to mould and redeem, 
 by its all-transforming energy, everything 
 which belongs to man in his individual and 
 social relations. 
 
 " It was the faith of our fathers that gave 
 us this free land in which we dwell. It is 
 by this faith only that we can transmit to our 
 children a free and happy, because a Chris- 
 tian, commonwealth. 
 
 " We hold it to be a distinctive excellence 
 of our Congregational system, that it exalts 
 that which is more, above that which is less 
 important, and by the simplicity of its organ- 
 ization facilities, in communities where the 
 population is limited, the union of all true 
 believers in one Christian church ; and that 
 the division of such communities into several 
 weak and jealous societies, holding the same 
 
534 
 
 HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 common faith, is a sin asrainst llie unity of 
 the body of Christ, and at once the shame 
 and scandal of Ciiristendom. 
 
 "We rejoice tliat tiirounii the influence of 
 our free system of apostolic order, we can 
 hold fellowshi|) with all who acknowledge 
 Christ and act efficiently in tiie work of re- 
 stcrina; unity to the divided church, and 
 bringing back harmony and peace among all 
 who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. 
 
 " Tlius recognizing the unity of the Church 
 of Cliri t in the vvorlil, and knowing that we 
 are bm one branch of Christ's people, whib' 
 adhering to our peculiar faith and order, we 
 extend to all believers the hand of Christian 
 fellowsh p upon the basis of tiiose great fun- 
 damental truths in which all Christian-; should 
 agree. With tln-m we cimfess our faith in 
 God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
 Ghost, the only living and true God; in 
 Jesus Christ, the incarnate Word, who is ex- 
 alted to be our Redeemer and King; and in 
 the Holy Comforter, who is present in the 
 Church to regenerate and sanctify the soul. 
 
 " With the whole Church, we confess the 
 common sinfulness an<l ruin of our race, and 
 acknowledge tiiat it is only through tiie work 
 accomplished by the life and expiatory death 
 c. Cinist, that believers in him are jusiified 
 before God, receive the remission of sms, 
 and through the pre-ence and grace of the 
 Holy Comforter, are delivered from the jiow- 
 er of sin .and {)erfected in iRillness. 
 
 " We believe, also, in tlie organized and 
 visible Church, in the mini-try of the Word, 
 m the sacraments of Ba|itisni and the Lord's 
 Supper, in the resurrection of the body, and 
 in tlie final judgment, the issues of which are 
 eternal life, and everlasting jiunishment. 
 
 "We receive these truths on tlie testi- 
 mony of God, given through prophets and 
 apostles, and in the life, the miracles, the 
 death, the resurrection of II is Son, our Di- 
 vine Hedeemer, — a testimony prest'rved for 
 the Ciunch in the Scriptures of the Old and 
 New Testaments, which were composed by 
 holy men as they were moved by the Holy 
 Ghost. 
 
 "Affirming now our belief that those who 
 thus hold ' one faith, one Lord, one baptism,' 
 together constitute the one Catholic Church, 
 fne several households of which, though call 
 ed by different names, are the one body of 
 Christ, and that these members of His body 
 are sacredly bound to keep ' the unity of the 
 Spirit in the bonds of peace,' we declare that 
 we Viill cooperate with all who hold these 
 
 truths. With them we will carry the Gos- 
 pel into every part of this land, and with 
 them we will go into all the world and 
 'preach the Gospel to every creature.' Muy 
 He to whom 'all power is given in Heaven 
 and earth,' fulfil the promise which is all our 
 hope : ' Lo, I am with you alway, even to 
 the end of the world.' Amen." 
 
 As we have already said, the Congrega- 
 tionalists are Pwdobaptists, though infant 
 baptism is far from being as universal with 
 them as it w.is formerly. Baptized children 
 are not admitted to full membership in the 
 church, except on evidence of conversion, 
 and a profession of their faith in Christ. 
 The u-ual mode of baptism is by affusion or 
 sprinkling, but most of their clergymen ad- 
 minister the ordinance by pouring, or by im- 
 mersion, if the candidate has a distinct pref- 
 erence for either of those modes. They rec- 
 ognize the minister, elder, presbyter, or bish- 
 op ( holding these titles as synonymous) as 
 the only clerical officer of the church. The 
 deacons, though set apart by ordination in 
 some of the churches, have no more author- 
 ity than any other layman. An executire, 
 or prudential, or standing committee (tiiey 
 are called by these different names in difl'er- 
 ent churches) assist the jiastur in examining 
 candidates for membership, and those recom- 
 mended by them are propounded for mem., 
 bersliip, and if no exception is taken they arc 
 received after a delay of one or two weeks. 
 Pastors are called by the churches which de- 
 sire their services, and usually also by the 
 ecclesiastical society, the corporation known 
 in law as holding and controlling the church 
 property, and which is usually composed of 
 members of the church ; but the pastor is 
 not considered as in the fellowship of the 
 Congregational churches adjacent, until he 
 has been examined, and ordained or installed 
 by a council composed of the pastors and 
 lay delegates from other churches. A church 
 may be organized by a band of believers 
 
 ! coming together voluntarily and agreeing to 
 form themselves into a church, but in order 
 to its recognition as in fellowship with other 
 churches of the same faith, a council must be 
 called to examine into the need of it, its ma- 
 terial, and its doctrines. 
 
 Candidates for the ministry are examined 
 
 [ carefully in regard- to their religious experi- 
 ence, doctrinal views, knowledge of Scrip- 
 
 : tural learning, and general fitness. Usually 
 a collegiate education, or its equivalent, is 
 
 I required. The church is practically the 
 
HISTORY AND PROGUHSS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 535 
 
 hi;;lie^t autliority in regard to matters of dis- 
 cipl ne, but in important cases at the request 
 of the party under disciphne, a mutual, or if 
 the <-iuirch refuse, an ex-parte council of pas- 
 tors and delegates of nein;hboring churclies, 
 is called, whch investigates the ca-e, and 
 communicates the '-results" at which it 
 arrive-i, to the parties. These councils pos- 
 sess, however, only advisory powers, but 
 their advice is usually accepted. 
 
 The Congregation ilists have now churches 
 in 37 of the states and territorie-i, and w'lile 
 their large--t membership is still in New 
 England, in most of the states of that section 
 it benig ihe largest denomination, yet they 
 have very considerable streng h in Illinois, 
 Michigan, Iowa, \Yi=eousin, Ohio, and iSew 
 York. 
 
 Their statistics at the close of 1870, were: 
 Churches 3,121 ; Ministers 3,194 ; Members 
 3itG.olS; teachers and pupils in Sabbath 
 Schools 361,463; gain over the previous 
 year, ehnrches 78; members 6,156; mem- 
 bers of Sabbath Schools 4.963; ministers 
 exclusive of foreign missionaries 30. Of the 
 ministers, U28 are reported as not engaged in 
 pastoral work, ©f their contributions to ben- 
 evolent purposes, it is impossible to s[)e:ik def- 
 initely, as ihey are in the Bi^ile Society, the 
 American Tract Societies, and have been, un- 
 til the present year, in the American Board, 
 and the American and Foreign Christian 
 Union, associated with other denominations. 
 Their contributions to the several benevolent 
 objects, aside from contributions for home 
 clinrch pui'poses, and from endowments 
 made to collegiate or Theological institutions 
 or asylums, &c., must have exceeded S2,- 
 OOO.OvjU. For home piu'poses they were not 
 less than $1,500,0(10 more. 
 
 The denomination have six theological 
 seminaries, which had, in 1870, twenty-eight 
 professors, and 30.5 students. These were 
 located at Bangor, Maine; .\ndover, Mass. ; 
 Hartford, and New Haven, Conn.; Oberlin, 
 Ohio ; and Chicago, 111. There were also 
 eighteen colleges, having an aggregate of 
 more than 5.000 students, in which, though 
 not exclusively denominational, the Congre- 
 gaiionalists have a controlling influence. 
 Aside from these, there are eighteen incorp- 
 orated and endowed academies, and female 
 seminaries, besides numerous private semin- 
 aries and academies, directly imder the con- 
 trol of the denomination. 
 
 There are seventeen periodicals, weekly, 
 semi-monthly, monthly, and quarterly, which 
 
 are recognized as distinctively Congregation- 
 alist. 
 
 The only other denominations not already 
 noticed, which are Congregational in their 
 polity, but not in their doctrine, are the Uni- 
 tarians, and UNivEiiSA LISTS, both of which 
 will be treated under their respective titles. 
 
 VI. THE PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL . 
 
 CHURCH I>J THE UNITED STATES, 
 sometimes called by a section of its mem- 
 bers, the Anglican or Anglo-Catholic 
 CnuiiCH. 
 
 This denomination was, in its origin in the 
 United States, a part of the Church of Eng- 
 land, and its clergymen received ordination 
 at the hands of the Bishop of London until 
 1784, and indeed mo-t of them until 1788 or 
 1789. Virginia had established the Church 
 of England as the religion of the colony, as 
 early as 1650, and Maryland, though settled 
 at lirst by Romau Catholics, had done the 
 same thing in 1692. Attempts were made 
 by some of the colonial governors of New 
 York to make it the established religion of 
 that colony, but without great success. The 
 adherents to the Church of England were, 
 however, considerably numerous in New 
 York, Pennsylvania, Jlaryland, and Vir- 
 ginia, before the Revolutionary War, and 
 they had ten or twelve cliurches in Connec- 
 ticut. In the other colonies they were very 
 few. ElTorts had been made to obtain one 
 or two bishops for these colonies almost from 
 the beginning of the eighteenth centnry, but 
 they had failed, both from the unfriendly 
 feeling of the English government, and from 
 the jealousy against Episcopacy in the colon- 
 ies, growing out of the poliiical complications 
 in which the bishops in Great Britain were 
 involved. In November, 1784, Rev. Sam- 
 uel Seabury, D. D., a Connecticut clergy- 
 man, having sought ordination as a bishop 
 of the diocese of Connecticut, from the Eng- 
 lish bishops, and being refused on account of 
 some political obstacles, went to Scotland 
 and was consecrated at Aberdeen, by three 
 of the bishops of the Scottish Episcopal 
 Church. In 1787, William White. D. D., 
 was consecrated Bishop of the Uiocese of 
 Pennsylvania, and Samuel Provost, D. D., 
 Bishop of the diocese of New York, by the 
 Ai-chbishop of Canterbury, at Lambeth Pal- 
 ace chapel, and three and a half years later, 
 James Madison, D. D., of Virginia, was con- 
 secrated at the same place as Bishop of the 
 
536 
 
 HISTORY AND PnOGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIOXS. 
 
 Diocese of Virginia. Tlii^se four bishops 
 were all who reteived coiif^ecralion in Great 
 Britain and tlmnigh them, according to the 
 views of the High Church ]iarty, the Apos- 
 tolical succes-^ion in the bishops and clergy 
 was transmitted to the American cliurch. 
 Tlie growth of tlie Protestant Kpiscopal 
 Cliurch has not been rapid, but lias been to 
 a great extent in the large cities and princi- 
 pal towns of the country, and only to a lim- 
 ited extent in the rural parishes. The beau- 
 tiful liturgy and imposing ritual of the Epis- 
 copal Church, as well as the wealth and 
 fashion of some of its adlierents, and the gor- 
 geous architecture of many of its church edi- 
 fices, have (.Irawn to its worship, in the great 
 cities, large numbers of the fashionable and 
 worldly, attracted by externals ; but within 
 its communion are also very many earnest 
 and devout souls, to wdioni its order and cer- 
 emonies are exceedingly precious. Within 
 its conniiunion, as in that of the Church of 
 England, there are three distinct parties, 
 often more diverse in their views than either 
 is from other denominations ; yet all profess- 
 ing to hold by the same standards, to which, 
 however, they give very difierent interpreta- 
 tions. The doctrinal standards of the Pro- 
 testant Episcopal Church, are the Apostles' 
 and Nicene creeds (for though many of them 
 agree to the Athanasian Creed, it is not an 
 acknowledged standard as it is with the 
 Church of England) ; the XXXIX articles 
 of the Church of England, except the XXIst 
 and XXXVIIth. and a slight moditication of 
 the Vlllth, XXXVth, and XXXVIth ; the 
 Book of Connnon Prayer, as revised by the 
 American Bishojis, and the Homilies in gen- 
 eral. The Hifili Cliurch party (with which 
 are generally included the Ritualists, and the 
 Puseyites or Tractarians, though liolh go far- 
 ther than most of the High Cliurchmen) take 
 their stand upon the Episcopal Constitution, 
 the theory of A|iostolical succession, and 
 more than all on the Book of Common 
 Prayer, and give to these standards a signili- 
 . cation which seems strained and my.-ticid, 
 and insist that they are to be interpreted 
 with due reference to the practices and cus 
 foms of the early Catholic Cliurch. They 
 have brought into the worship of the Protest- 
 ant Episcopal Church many customs, cere- 
 monies, and practices which are certainlv 
 borrowed from the Roman Catholic cliurch, 
 and a considcralile number of them have 
 demonstrated this, by taking still another 
 Btep and going entirely over to the Church 
 
 of Rome. This branch of the Protestant 
 Episcopal Church, or rather this party in it, 
 have been extremely intolerant of other 
 religious denominations, denouncing them as 
 dissenters, and as having i o part in the cov- 
 enant, assuming to themselves even a higher 
 ]iosition than that claimed by the Roman 
 Catho'ic Church. At the same time, it is 
 due to them to say, that in active Christian 
 work within the bounds of their own denom- 
 ination, exclusivelj-, they aie not suqiassed 
 by any other denomination in the country, 
 according to their numbers. Their intoler- 
 ance and bigotry has possibly led another 
 division of the church, the Low Church part}', 
 to an extreme in the other direction. The 
 Low Church take their jiosition on the 
 " Thirty nine articles " which are Calvinistic 
 on the doctrine of election, and Zuinglian in 
 the doctrine of the Sacraments. They are 
 Evangelical in their doctrinal views, and in- 
 terpret their standards as permitting, and 
 indeed enjoining, on them free and hearty 
 Christian intercourse with other Evangelical 
 deiii niinations. They interchange pulpits 
 with them, and engage very cordially in as- 
 sociations for the promotion of objects of 
 general Christian benevolence. That in 
 these measures they occasionally oversti p 
 the strict letter of their standards, may be, 
 and ]irobably is, due to a too great narrow- 
 ness in the standards themselves. 
 
 The third, or "Broad C'hurch party," ha\e 
 not so much inclination either to a narrow 
 and straight-laced interpreiation of their 
 standard-^, and a bigotry towaiil other denom- 
 inations, or to a thoroughly evangelical coop- 
 eration with them, as to loose and broad views 
 in regard to the in-piration and authenticity 
 of the Scriptures, and a strongly rationalistic 
 tendency. This party, which we believe 
 includes in this country none of the bishops, 
 subscribe to the XXXIX articles, with many 
 mental reservations, and some of them boldly 
 avow that Protestantism is a failure. 
 
 The condition of aflairs in the Protestant 
 Episcopal Church, resulting from these great 
 ditlerenccs of sentiment and opinion, have 
 more than once threatened that cliuri h with 
 division, if not dissolution, and at the present 
 time seem more likely to rend it than ever. 
 A few churches have already withdrawn 
 from its coramuniou, and others of the Low 
 Church party are only awaiting the result of 
 a last appeal to the Triennial CTCueral Con- 
 vention to deiide upon their future course. 
 
 Under the article on the Methodist Epis- 
 
HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 537 
 
 corAL Church, we have given twenty-five 
 of the thirty-seven articles retained by the 
 Protestant Epi-copal Church, in every case 
 but one using their exact language. (This 
 one is in regard to the " Rulers of the United 
 States of America," and, of course, difiers 
 from the English article on the subject of 
 rulers.) It is hardly necessary for us to 
 repeat these, and the others which are omit- 
 ted by the Methodist Church, but retained 
 by the Protestant Episcopal; they relate, as 
 will appear from their titles, rather to ab- 
 stract topics and beliefs, and to matters of 
 polity, than to the fundamental doctrines of 
 the Church. The titles of the omitted arti- 
 cles are : " Art. 3. Of the going down of 
 Christ into Hell." "Art. 13. Of works before 
 justilication." "Art. 15. Of Christ alone 
 without sin." "Art. 17. Of Predestination 
 and Election "(the most decidedly Calvinistic 
 article in the whole XXXIX, and singularly 
 at variance with some other portions of the 
 standard). "Art. 18. Of obtaining salvation 
 only by the name of Christ." "Art. 20. Of 
 the authority of the Church." "Art. 23. Of 
 ministering in the congregation." "Art. 26. 
 Of tlio I 111 worthiness of the ministers, which 
 hinders nut the effect of the sacrament." 
 "Art. 20 Of the wicked which eat not the 
 body of Christ in the use of the Lord's Sup- 
 per." "Art. 33. Of excommimicated per- 
 sons ; how they are to be avoided." "Art. 
 34. Of the traditions of the Church." "Art. 
 36. Of tlie consecration of Bishops .and min- 
 isters." This last is modified to adapt it to 
 the peculiarities of the American church. 
 To the doctrinal discrepancies growing out 
 of the interpretations of the XXXIX arti- 
 cles, and the Book of Common Prayer, 
 which it is very difficult to make accord fully 
 with each other, is due mudi of the division 
 in the Protestant Episcopal Church. 
 
 In matters of polity, the Episcopal Church 
 recognizes three orders of clergy : Bishops, 
 priests, and deacons. The Bishops, like 
 those of the Roman Catholic, Greek, Armen- 
 ian, and some other churches, are diocesan, 
 i. e., have charge of the churches of a partic- 
 ular territory or diocese, in distinction from 
 those of the Methodist Church, which are 
 general and itinerant, and those of a part of 
 the Lutheran churches, which are more 
 nearly Presbyterian, the Bishop being of no 
 higher authority nor dignity than the other 
 clergy, but simply performing duties of a dif- 
 ferent class. Such is substantially also the 
 theory of Episcopacy in the Moravian church. 
 
 The High Church theory is, that the Bish- 
 ops are the successors of the Apostles, that 
 the consecration has come to them in regular 
 order through the hands of a succession of 
 holy men, the bishops of the Roman Church 
 before the Reformation, and that they are 
 thus Bishops by direct transmission from 
 Jesus Christ and his Apostles, and so by 
 divine right. They regard them as superior 
 to priests and deacons. The Low Church 
 party deny all this, and reject the theory of 
 the "exclusive validity of Episcopal orders." 
 The priests, called also in the United States, 
 genenilly rectors, and, where not in full 
 charge of a parish, assistant ministers, have 
 received at the hands of the bishop the sec- 
 ond ordination which confers upon them the 
 ]iower of administering the sacraments. Tlie 
 third, or lowest grade of the ministry, is the 
 deacon, which in this church is usually but 
 temporary, the candidate when invested with 
 this office, is allowed to baptize, to read in 
 the church, and to assist in the Eucharist, 
 but only in the administration of the wine. 
 His office is wholly distinct from that of the 
 deacon in Presbyterian, Congregational, or 
 Baptist churches, being more analogous to 
 that of the licentiate in those churches. It is 
 usually a mere preliminary or stepping stone 
 to the reception of priests' orders, and both 
 ordinations are, in some instances, effected in 
 the same day. The temporaliiies of the 
 Episcopal churches are administered by the 
 concurrence of the rector and the vestry, 
 composed of wardens and vestrymen elected 
 by the members of the parish. The Episco- 
 pal Chin-ch usually administers baptism by 
 making the sign of the cross on the forehead 
 of the person baptized, requiring a profession 
 of faith (in the case of infants, this is made 
 for them by their sponsors, or god-father and 
 god-mother). Immersion either in the case 
 of children or adults, though formerly prac- 
 tised by the Church of England, is not now 
 considered necessary. The formula for the 
 baptism of infants, in the prayer book, con- 
 tains the words, " since this child is now re- 
 generate" and a very exciting discussion has 
 sprung up in regard to these words, some 
 clergymen contending that they inculcated 
 the doctrine of baptismal regeneration, and 
 refusing to use them on this account. At 
 the Triennial General Convention, held in 
 Baliimore, in Oct. 1871, though no general 
 canon defining this passage was passed, yet 
 nearly all the bishops signed a paper giving 
 it as their private opinion that the term as 
 
538 
 
 HISTOUY AND PROGIIUSS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 thus used was not intended to imply that doc- 
 trine. 
 
 The statistics of tlie Protestant Episcopal 
 Church in 1 .S70 were as follows : Dioceses 39 ; 
 Missionary do. 11 ; Bishops 39; Assistant do. 
 5; Mis'iii'naiy do. 8; Priests and Deacons 2,- 
 710; Parishes •2,.5r2; communicants, not fully 
 reported, but believed to be not cjuite 220,- 
 000; Baptisms of infants, 20,749; of adults, 
 .5,030; not specified, 3,760; Contirinations 
 20,793; Sunday School Teachers 18,664; 
 Scholars 185,079; Contributions (incom- 
 plete), »4,205,029. 
 
 The Episcopal Church has been very ac- 
 tive in the promotion of educational institu- 
 tions. It has 1 4 theological seminaries, with 
 57 professors and 366 students; l.T colleges, 
 with 1,380 students, and 20 academies and 
 diocesan schools, under the control of its 
 Bishops. It has 22 periodicals, weekly, semi- 
 weekly, monthly, and quarterly, devoted to 
 its interests, and within a few years past has 
 manifested a zeal and energy in propagating 
 its views, and establishing churches, e?peci- 
 ally in the new states and territories, which 
 contrasts very favorably with the apathy of 
 its early history. 
 
 VII. THE EVANGELICAL LUTHERAN 
 CHURCH. 
 
 The Lutheran Church in the United 
 States, is one, in the sense of holding with 
 greater or less tenacity to the same stand- 
 ards or Confessions of Faith ; but it has 
 some elements of discord in it, mainly in 
 matters of minor importance, which have 
 led to violent controversies, and to so great 
 bitterness between some of its synods that 
 they not only refuse fellowship and commun- 
 ion wiih each other, but have excommuni 
 cated each other. These discordant elements 
 are, however, confined for tiie most part to 
 the smaller independent synods, and do not 
 so much affect tiie larger bodies. The de- 
 nomination is growing in the United States 
 with great rapidity, especially in the West, 
 and mainly, thougli not exclusively, by immi- 
 gration, the very large numbers of Germans, 
 Swedes, Norwegians, and Danes, arriving 
 here every year being, a in.ajorily of them — 
 nominally at least — attached to the Lutiieran 
 faith. The first Lutherans came to Penn- 
 sylvania between 1680 and 1700, attracted 
 by the offers of William Penii. In 1710, 
 about 3,000 German Lutherans who had 
 taken refuge in England from the persecu- 
 
 tions of the Romanists, were sent over to 
 Pennsylvania by the British government. 
 In 1727, another large colony came over 
 from the Palatinate, Wurtemburg, Darm- 
 stadt, and otiier jjarts of Germany. For 
 nearly twenty years, these poor people had 
 no ministers of their own ; but in 1748, Dr. 
 Henry Jlelchior Muhlenburg, a missionary 
 of the Halle Orphan Housw, brought up under 
 the training of Franckc and Spencer, came 
 to Pennsylvania and labored mo?t zealously 
 for half a century among them, organizing 
 churches, consistories, and synods, and being 
 entitled to be considered the father of the 
 German Lutheran Church in America. At 
 the time he arrived here, there were only 
 eleven Lutheran ministers in the Colonies. 
 Three years later there were forty, and a 
 Lutheran population of about 60,000. No 
 one of the Protestant churches suffered more 
 severely by the Revolutionary "War than did 
 the Lutheran, and ihey were long in recov- 
 ering from the depression thus caused. Many 
 of their churches were abandoned, and it 
 seemed for years as if their religious vitality 
 had departed. Their churches were scatter- 
 ed, and belonged to di.-tant and separate 
 synods, having little communication with 
 each other and no common band of union, 
 and being in manj' instances composed of 
 Lutherans from ditterent countries of Europe, 
 they were inclined to look upon each other 
 with jealousy. This was, to some extent, 
 remedied, and a better state of affairs inaug- 
 urated by the formation of the General .Syn- 
 od of the Lutheran Church, in 1820. From 
 that time, a steady and constantly increasing 
 lido of emigration began to fiow in to the 
 country, and much of the German and .Scan- 
 dinavian part of it was composed of Luther- 
 ans, or those who had been brought up under 
 Lutheran influences. Many of these, coming 
 from countries where Lutheranism was the 
 religion of the state, and the sovereign the 
 head of the church, had been accustomed to 
 great laxity in religious matters. At the 
 suitable age they were confirmed and became 
 members of the church, however irregular 
 their mode of life, and no evidence of conver- 
 sion was required for membership. These 
 la.x views, aiid a general tendency to ration- 
 alism, they desired to graft upon the Ameri- 
 can Lutheran Church, and in some of the 
 newer synods their views prevailed. These 
 synods refused, on these and other accounts, 
 to join the Gener.al Synod. There were 
 other grounds of difference, also, relating to 
 
HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 539 
 
 the sUinilards of the church, the clerical o(!ice, 
 the adoption or rejection of -ynibulical rites 
 and cerenioaies, and a lituigical service, and 
 the making use of what have been known as 
 revival measures. These differences were 
 increased by the emigration of a consideraljle 
 number of the " Old Lutheran " party to the 
 United States in 1837 and 1838. llie 
 Lutherans all agree in receiving the "Augs- 
 burg Confession," (drawn up by Melanch- 
 thon, and sanctioned liy Lutlier, in 1530) as 
 their principal standard of doctrine ; though 
 the New Lutherans regard even this as only 
 an expression, " in a manner substantially 
 correct," of the cardinal doctrines of the 
 Bdile, which they regard as the only infalli- 
 ble rule of faith and practice. The Old 
 Lutherans on the contrary, while avowing 
 the Bible as the ultimate rule of faith and 
 practice, adhere very strenuously to the 
 entire " Book of Concord," so called, as the 
 standard of their doctrinal beliefs. This 
 Book of Concord contains the three creeds, 
 viz., the Apostles', Athana^ian, and Niceue 
 Creeds, the Augsburg Confession of 1830, 
 and the Apology of the Confession (written 
 by Melanchthon, 1510), the Schmalkald 
 Articles (drawn up by Luther in lo37), and 
 the two Catechisms of Luther (prepared be- 
 fore 1530). The Old Lutherans are in- 
 clined, to some extent, to retain also, those 
 rites, ceremonies, and observances, wh cli 
 Melanchthon regarded as things indifferent, 
 sucli as the wearing of clerical vestments, 
 exorcism, private confessions, lax vimvs of 
 the Sabbath, and the oM Lutheran doctrine 
 of baptism, in its relation to regeneration 
 and the Lord's Supper. 
 
 '• Tlie book of Concord," and, indeed, the 
 "Augsburg Confession," and its '•Apologjs" 
 are too long to be inserted in this brief his- 
 tory of denominations, but we give below a 
 summary of their principal doctrines, as 
 stated by an eminent Lutheran clergyman. * 
 '• The fundamental doctrine of the Lutheran 
 Church is that we are justified before God, 
 not through any merit of our own, but by his 
 tender mercy, through faith in his Son. The 
 depravity of man is total in its extent, and 
 his will has no positive ability in the work of 
 salvation, but has the negative ability of 
 ceasing its resistance. Jesus Christ otl'ered 
 a proper and vicarious sacrifice. Faith in 
 Christ presupposes a true penitence. The 
 renewed man co-works with the Spirit of 
 
 • New American Cyclopedia, Vol. X, pp. 739, "40. 
 
 God. Sanctificat'on is progressive and nev- 
 er reaches absolute perfection in this life. 
 The Holy Spirit works through the Word 
 and the Sacraments, which alone, in the 
 proper sense, are means of grace. Both the 
 Word and the Sacraments bring a positive 
 grace which is oft'ered to all who leceive 
 them outwardly, and wliich is actually im- 
 parted to all «ho have faith to embrace it. . 
 . . . . The Evangelical Lutheran Church 
 regards the "Word of God, the Canonical 
 Scriptures, as the aljsolute and only law of 
 faith, and of life. AVhatever is undefined by 
 its letter or its spirit, is the subject of Chris- 
 tian liberty, and ])erlains not to the sphere of 
 conscience, but to that of order ; no power 
 may enjoin upon the church, as necessary, 
 what God has forbidden, or has passed by in 
 silence, as none may forbid her to hold what 
 God has enjoined upon her, or to practise 
 what, by His silence, he has left to her free- 
 dom. Just as firmly as she holds upon the 
 one hand that the Bible is the rule of faith 
 and not a confession of it, she holds on the 
 other that the creed is a confession of faith 
 and not the rule of it. The creeds are sim- 
 ply the testimony of the Church to the truths 
 she holds ; but as it is the truth they confess, 
 she of necessity regards those who reject 
 the truth confessed in the creed, as rejecting 
 the truth set forth in the Word. While, 
 therefore, it is as true of the Lutheran 
 Church as of any other, th.at when she lays 
 her hand upon the I>il)le, she gives the com- 
 mand, ' Believe ! ' and when she lays it on 
 the Confession, she puts the question, 'Do 
 you believe ?' it is also true that when a man 
 replies, ' No,' to the question, she considers 
 him as thereby giving evidence that he has 
 
 not obeyed the command Baptism. 
 
 The Lutheran Church holds that it is neces- 
 sary to salvation to be born again of water, 
 and the S|)irit ; but she holds that this neces- 
 sity is ordinaiy, not absolute, or without ex- 
 ception ; that the contempt of the sacrament, 
 not the want of it, condemns, and that though 
 God binds us to the means. He does not bind 
 His own mercy liy them. From the time of 
 Luther to the present hour the Lutheran the- 
 ologians have maintained the salvability and 
 .actual salvation of infants dying unbaptized. 
 The rest of the doctrine of the Lutheran 
 Church as a whole, is involved in her confes- 
 sion, with the Nicene Creed, " one baptism 
 for the remission of sin," and that through 
 it the grace of God is oft'ered ; that chil- 
 dren are to be baptized, and that being 
 
540 
 
 H STORT AND PROGR! S3 OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 thus committed to God they are graciously 
 received by him. At the same time she 
 rejects tlie theory of the Anabaptists, that 
 infants unbaptized have salvation because of 
 their personal innocence, and maintains that 
 the nature with wliich we are born requires a 
 change, whicli must be wrought before we 
 can enter heaven, and tliat infants are sa\ed 
 by the application of Christ's redemptory 
 work." It has been charged for more tlian 
 three centuries that the Lutlierans held to 
 the doctrine of Consubstantiation, that is, the 
 local or corporeal presence in, with, or under 
 the bread in the Lord's Supper ; tln'y deny 
 tliis most strenuously, but admit that tliey 
 hold to a sacramental, spiritual, or supernat- 
 ural presence of the Divine Redeemer in the 
 sacrament, and tliat those who partake, do in 
 reality feed upon him spiritually, though if 
 unworthy, to their own condemnation. On 
 the subject of the Lord's Day, while it is 
 acknowledged that the general practice 
 among Protestants on the continent of 
 Europe, in regard to its observance, is much 
 more lax tlian that whicli prevails in Eng- 
 land and the United States, yet the Ameri- 
 can Lutheran Cimrch profess to hold that 
 the Sabbatli was instituted at tlie creation of 
 man ; that tlie generic idea of devoting one 
 day of the week to rest from labor, and to 
 religious duties, pertains to the entire race 
 thi'ough all time ; and that the law of the 
 Sabbath, so far as it is not determinative and 
 typical, is binding on Christians. 
 
 "Divine Worship. The Lutheran Cliurch 
 regards preaching as an indispensable part 
 of divine service. All worsliip is to be in 
 the vernacular ; the wants of the heart as 
 well as of the reason are to be met. Wliat- 
 ever of the past is spiritual, beautiful, and 
 appropriate, is to be retained. The Church 
 year, with its great festivals, is kept. With 
 various national diversities, there is a sub- 
 stantial agreement in the liliu'gical services 
 of the Lutheran Ciiurch, throughout almost 
 all tiie world. The hymns are sung bj' all 
 the people, with the organ accompaniment." 
 The hymnolog}' of the Lutheran Church sur- 
 passes that of all other churches in the world 
 in sweetnes-', richness, power, and unction. 
 Even in tlieir Engli-h dress there are few 
 hymns more b(;autiful or soul-inspiring than 
 Luther's " A strong fortress is our God," or 
 " O ! Head, so bruised and wounded," or 
 " Jerusalem, the Golden." 
 
 " The clergymen in their official functions, 
 wear a distinctive dress, usually a black robe, 
 
 with the bands. A preparatory service pre- 
 cedes communion. The doctrine and prac- 
 tice of auricular confession were rejected in 
 the beginning. The " private confession," 
 which was established in some parts of the 
 Church, involves no enumeration or confes- 
 sion of particular sins whatever, unless the 
 communicant desires to speak of them ; and 
 the " private absolution " is simply tlie an- 
 nunciation of the gospel promise, with the 
 gospel conditions to the individual penitent. 
 But even in this form, private confession has 
 ceased in most parts of the church. The 
 practice of exorcism in baptism, simply as a 
 rite long established, and which might be 
 tolerated if regarded merely as a symbolical 
 representation of the doctrine that our nature 
 is under the dominion of sin, was practised 
 in parts of the church, but has fallen almost 
 everywhere into oblivion. 
 
 Constitution or Polity of the Church. 
 "Many embarrassing circumstances prevent- 
 ed the Lutheran Church from developing her 
 life as perfectl}' in her church constitution, 
 as in her doctrines and worship. Tlie idea 
 of tlie universal priesthood of all believers, 
 at once overthrew the doctrine of a distinc- 
 tion of essence between clergy and laity. 
 (This doctrine is, nevertheless, maintained 
 in one or two of the American synods. — 
 Editor.) The ministry is not an order, but 
 it is a divinely appointed office, to viliich 
 men must be rightly called. No imparity 
 exists by divine right ; a hierarchical organi- 
 zation is unchristi:ni, but a gradation (bish- 
 ops, superintendents, provost*.) ma}' be ob- 
 served, as a thing of human right only. (In 
 the United States, the Lutheran Church has 
 no bishojis, superintendents, or provosts. — 
 Editor.) The government by consistories 
 has been very general. In Denmark, Evan- 
 gelical bishojjs took the place of Roman 
 Catholic prelates who were deposed. In 
 Sweden, the bishops embraced the Reforma- 
 tion, and thus secured in that country an 
 " apostolic succession," in the High Church 
 sense ; though, on the principles of the Luth- 
 eran Church,. alike where she has, as where 
 she has not such a succession, it is not re- 
 garded as essential even to the order of tha 
 church. The ultimate source of power is in 
 the congregation, that is, in the pastor and 
 other officers of the church, and the people 
 of the single communions. The right to 
 choose a pastor belongs to the people, who 
 may exercise it by direct vote, or delegate it 
 to their representatives. Synods possess 
 
HISTORT AND PROGRESS OF THE IUFFEKENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 541 
 
 such power as the congregations delegate to 
 tlieni. " Ministers are related to congreffa- 
 tions, not as their servants, but as the serv- 
 ants of the church, and in the United States 
 where the Congregational priuciiile has been 
 more radically developed than anywhere 
 else in the Lutheran Church, "the Synod to 
 which pastors belong has the entire jurisdic- 
 tion over them." (See Formula of the 
 Lutheran Church, Chap, iii, 3.) Absolute 
 ministerial parity is maintained, and lay rep- 
 resentation is universal ; but many vital 
 points of church organizations are entirely 
 unsettled, and the doctrine that synods are 
 merely advisory bodies," is often pressed in 
 a way that tends to anarchy. 
 
 The Lutheran Church in the LTnited States 
 ■ is divided into the following organizations : 
 1st, The General Synod, founded in 1820, 
 and comprising in 1870, twenty Synods, viz- 
 the Synods of Maryland, West Pennsylvania, 
 Hartwick, East Ohio, Frankean, Alleghany, 
 East Pennsylvania, Miami, Wittenberg, 
 Olive, Northern Illinois, Southern Illinois. 
 Central Pennsylvania, English Synod of 
 Iowa, Northern Indiana, New Jersey, Cen- 
 tral Illinois, New York, Susquehanna, Pitts- 
 burgh, and Kansas. The General Synod 
 recognizes the Augsburg Confession, but al- 
 lows considerable liberty of doctrinal views 
 in its interpretation. It formerly had more 
 synods connected with it, but six southern 
 synod<, subsequently increased to seven, se- 
 ceded during the war and formed the South 
 EPN General Synod. Their action was 
 based on the resolutions of loj"alty to the 
 Government expressed by the General Syn 
 od, but they are said to have adhered more 
 closely to the standards, and to have been 
 more strict in regard to the qualifications of 
 membership than the Old Synod. The 
 Northern General Synod had, in 1870, G27 
 ministers, 1,UG7 churches, and 103,042 com- 
 municants. The Southern General Synod, 
 organized in 1862, had at the same time: 
 126 ministers, 225 churches, and 2U,796 com 
 municants. 
 
 A much younger body, and yet having a 
 larger membership, is the General Coun- 
 cil, organized in 1867. The General Coun- 
 cil adheres to the entire body of standards 
 contained in the " Book of Concord," which 
 tliey declare to be accepted by them as be- 
 ing in full accord with the Scriptures. It 
 comprises twelve Synods, viz : The New 
 York Ministerium, the Synod of Pennsylva- 
 nia, a Pittsburgh Synod, the English District 
 
 Synod of Ohio, the English Synod of Ohio, 
 the Synod of Illinois, the Synod of Michigan, 
 the German Synod of Iowa, the Synod of 
 Minnesota, the Scandin.avian Augustana 
 Synod, the Synod of Texas, and the Synod 
 of Canada. These Synods had in 1870,535 
 ministers, 986 churches, and 131,632 mem- 
 bers. 
 
 Six other Synods, viz : Missouri, Ohio, 
 Wirconsin, the Norwegian, Grabaii's-BufFalo 
 Synod, and the German Synod of New 
 York, agree very fully in doctrines with each 
 other, except that the last two named have 
 some peculiar views in regard to the status of 
 the Christian ministry. They differ from 
 the General Council in these four points : 
 they desire to prohibit an interchange of pul- 
 pits with all other denominations, and admis- 
 sion to the Lord's Supper ; they condemn 
 Jlillenarianism, and excommunicate from 
 their fellowship all members of secret socie- 
 ties. Their numbers, in 1870, were as fol- 
 lows : ministers, 650 ; churches, 965 ; com- 
 municants, 150,925. These synods will prob- 
 ably soon be united in one organization. 
 
 The following synods, all small, are still 
 independent, but will probably soon be con- 
 nected with some one of the larger bodies : 
 The Tennessee, Von Rohr's Buffalo Synod, 
 the Concordia, Eielson's Scandinavian Synod, 
 and the Norwegian Danish Conference. 
 These synods had in 1870, 70 ministers, 218 
 churches, 18,327 members. There were, 
 besides, 30 ministers whose synodal connec- 
 tion was unascertained. There were, there- 
 fore, in 1870, connected with the different 
 councils, synods, and conferences of the 
 Lutheran Church in the United States, 53 
 synods, 2,086 ministers, 3,544 churches, and 
 425,577 communicants. The other statistics 
 of the Church are partial, and not later than 
 1869. The General Synod had in that year, 
 81,445 teachers and scholars in its Sabbath 
 Schools, and contributed to benevolent ob- 
 jects $340,133. The contributions of the 
 other branches of the church are not report- 
 ed. 
 
 Thirty-two Lutheran newspapers were 
 published in 1870, viz : Eight English, six- 
 teen German, two Swedish, and six Norwe- 
 gian and Danish. There are two Lutheran 
 Church Almanacs published annually, one at 
 Baltimore, the other at Allentown, Pa. 
 There are 15 Theological seminaries for 
 Lutheran students, with about 60 professors, 
 and 450 students, and 17 colleges with more 
 than 2,000 students. There are also 18 sem- 
 
542 
 
 HISTOKV ANU PKOGRESS Of THE WIKKKKKNT DKNOMrNATIONS. 
 
 inarie-i or academies ol high grade under 
 their control. 
 
 VIII THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS OR 
 QUAKEKS. 
 
 I. The Original or Outiiodox 
 Frirnds. The Society of Friends originated 
 in the earlv part of the seventeenih centnry, in 
 Great Britain, as one of those protests against 
 formalism and Chi-istianity from which the 
 heart and life had died out, which have in all 
 ages demonstrated the power of religious 
 principle to react from the deadness of state 
 churches. George Fox, its founder, com- 
 menced proclaiming the doctrines of the 
 jwwer of Christ to save men from sin, and 
 the influence of the Holy Spirit in changing 
 and transforming the evil nature, wlien he 
 was but twenty tliree years of age, and con- 
 tinned it for forty years, until his death. Ilis 
 followers were not very numerous, but they 
 were excee<lingly earnest, stern in their 
 adherence to what they believed to be the 
 monitions of the Holy Spirit, and when per- 
 secuted, took joyfully the spoiling of their 
 goods, and went to prison, to the stake, or to 
 the gallows with a calm fearlessness which 
 convinced many of the truth of their doc- 
 trines. It was not in England alone that 
 they were thus persecuted. In July, 1G5G. 
 two female members of the Society of 
 Friends reached the port of Boston, but 
 were compelled by the colonial government 
 to return in the same ship. Others, however, 
 followed soon after, and while their conscien- 
 tious protest against the prevalent customs 
 and manners may have savored of fanaticism, 
 the colonial authorities were certainly in the 
 wrong in persecuiing them so bitterly. They 
 were whipped, imprisoned, and banished from 
 the Massaehn-etts Colony, and four out of 
 five who ventui-ed to return from banish- 
 ment, one of 'hem a woman of remarkable 
 gifts a)id devotion, were hanged for their 
 contempt of the colonial law.s. The last 
 niartvr of the Society ot Friends in America 
 was executed in IGIJI, but subsequent to that 
 date some were whijiped, banished, and im- 
 prisoned, in the colonies of Massachusetts 
 and Connecticut. In 1G82, a considerable 
 number of Friends came over to Pennsyl- 
 vania with William Penn, himself a mem- 
 ber of the Society. Fox had himself visited 
 America in KiG'J, and remained till IGiJJ, 
 and had established meetings of Friends in 
 North Carolina and elsewhere, some of which 
 
 are still in existence. The Society of 
 Friends in America adheres, to this day, to 
 the organization devised for it by Fox. 
 Their meetings, as they call their congrega- 
 tions, are presided over by Elders, and these 
 the most prudent and judicious men ot these 
 congregations, exercise a quiet, but effective, 
 supervision over those who believe them- 
 selves called of God to proclaim his truth. 
 The utterances of this truth made as the re- 
 sult ot a special impulse or call of the Spirit 
 then and there to spenk. are made bj- both 
 sexes, the doctrine of^ the Friends on this sub- 
 ject being, that God calls both men and women 
 to utter his truths. The meetings are sub- 
 ject to monthly meetings of the diflferent 
 congregations of a neighborhood or district, 
 and these to the '* Yearly Sleetings," which 
 are diocesan in their character, and have a 
 controlling and disciplinary power. These 
 Yearly Jleetings, of which there are ten or 
 more, are equal in their authority, and there 
 is no appeal from their decisions. 
 
 At the time of the commencement of the 
 Revolutionary War, there were almut 4.5,0U0 
 Friends in the thirteen colonies, and as they 
 were opposed to bearing arms, .and utterly 
 refused to take part in the War, there was at 
 first some apprehension that they were hos- 
 tile to the patriot side. This impression was 
 soon dissipated; for though, with some few 
 exceptions, the members of the society did 
 not bear arms, they rendered great and con., 
 spicuous service to the national cause, and 
 this service was rendered with such sacrifices 
 and with so much liberality as to show that 
 their hearts were in the cause, though they 
 were con^icientiously opposed to fighting- For 
 two or three decades after the war, they con- 
 tiiuied to increase, though not very rapidly. 
 Tiien came a season of stagnation. Thej', 
 who, in the beginning of their history, had 
 been the most radical of radicals, were now 
 intensely conservative ; and while as holy 
 men and women as ever walked the earth 
 shaded their brows beneath broad brinnned 
 hats and Quaker bonnets, and .adhered strictly 
 to the Quaker dress, there had come over the 
 society a spirit of formalism, which occupied 
 itself too much in the petty details of dress 
 and language, and neglected, to some extent, 
 the weightier matters of law, judgment, and 
 faith. Their services had become distasteful 
 to many of their young people, and these 
 were abandoning the faith of their fathers 
 and going to the opposite extreme of Ritual- 
 istic observance in the Episcopal Church, ofj 
 
niSTCRT AND Pl:OGUE&S OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 US 
 
 in still stronger protest against its stringent 
 rules of life, became the most worldly of 
 workllings, till it became a byeword in re- 
 gard to tlie fastest of fast young men, " They 
 were brought up as Quakers ! Meanwhile, 
 tliere was in the meetings ihemsclves a grad- 
 ual drawing away from llio soundness of 
 their pristine failh. There were not, as of 
 old, those fervent, earnest testimonies; the 
 Spirit's power of impressing men and women 
 to utter the word of exhortation came to be 
 less frequently and h.'ss decide<lly manifested 
 than of old, and ever and anon there were 
 those mute, but protracted, assemblies which 
 bore witness moi'e powerfully than any pro- 
 phetic utterance could have done, that it was 
 not with them as in days past, wlii'n the can- 
 dle of the Lord shined around about them. 
 In 1827 came the great secession, when al- 
 most one-third of their number repudiated 
 the claims of Cliri-t, as "the God-man, the 
 Divine lledeemor, and, while still claiming 
 to be " Friends," withilrew with their leader 
 and formed a new organization. For more 
 than twenty years thai followed, the 'Friends' 
 of the Orthodox faith still walked in the wil- 
 derness, amid clouds ami <larkncss ; still their 
 sons and daughters fell away to the worhl, 
 and their numbers deereascJ or remained 
 stationary. 
 
 But at length the time of refreshing came, 
 and as the tesiiinonies to God's goodness and 
 grace multiplied, and their meetings were no 
 longer silent and dreary as of old, they be- 
 gin to extend their intluenee, and to find in 
 active work for Christ, in the First Day 
 Schools, in the distribution of the Word of 
 God, in labors for the poor, oppressed, and 
 down trodden, the true secret of success. 
 Since 18")U, their numbers have nearly 
 doul)led, and in the work of religious instruc- 
 tion, and vigorous eftbrc~ for the conversion 
 of men, they have found su<'li blessings that 
 they have liecome an aggressive, earnest, and 
 ellieieiit body of Christian men ami women. 
 
 "The Society of Friends," says Mr. Wil- 
 liam .J. Allinson, editor of The Friends' Re- 
 i-iew, '• is not, at issue with other Orthodox 
 churches on the general points of Christian 
 doctrine. Avoiding the use of the word 
 Trinity, they reverently believe in the Holy 
 Three: tlie Fa! her, the Lord .Tesus Christ, 
 the only begotten of the Father, by whom 
 are all things, who is the Mediator between 
 God and man, and in the Holy Spirit, who 
 proseedeth from the Father and Son — One 
 God, blessed forever. They accept, in its 
 
 fullness, the testimony of Holy Scripture 
 with regard to the nature and offices of Christ, 
 as the [iromised Messiah, the Word made 
 flesh, the atonement for sin, the Saviour and 
 Redeemer of the world. They have no re- 
 liance upon any other name, no hope of sal- 
 vation that is not based upon his meritorious 
 death on the cross. As fully do they admit 
 his humanity, and that he was truly man, 
 " sin only excepted." They so fully believe 
 in the Holy Spirit of Christ, that without the 
 inward revelation thereof they feel that they 
 can do nothing to God's glory, or to further 
 the salvation of their own souls. Without 
 the influence thereof they know not how to 
 approach the Father, through the Son, nor 
 what to pray for as they ought. Their 
 whole code of belief calls for the entire sur- 
 render of the natural will to the guidance of 
 the pure, unerring Spirit, through whose 
 renewed assistance they are enabled to bring 
 forth fruits unto holiness, and to stand per- 
 fect in their present work. As it was the 
 design of Christ in going to the Father, to 
 send, as a Comforter, his Sjiirit to his disci- 
 ples, so it is with his Spirit that he baptized 
 and doth baptize them, it being impossible, 
 in the estimation of the Friends, that an out- 
 ward ablution should wash from the spirit of 
 man the stains of sin. Hence they attach 
 imixirtance to " the baptism which now 
 saveth," and which John the Baptist pre- 
 dicted should be administered by Christ. 
 And it is by his Spirit, also, that liis follow-- 
 ers are enabled to partake of the true vSup- 
 per of the Lord : " Behold I stand at the 
 door and knock: if any man hear my voice, 
 and open unto me, I will come in and sup 
 with him, and he shall sup with me." Thus 
 they hold that the coming of the Lord .Jesus 
 Christ in the flesh was the grand epoch and 
 central fact of time, and that types and shad- 
 ows, and all ceremonial observances, which 
 had their place before, as shadows of good 
 things to come, now that they have been ful- 
 filled in Him, are only shadows of those 
 shadows. The type properly precedes the 
 reality, and truly this was worthy of being 
 foreshadowed ; " but," says Paul, " w hen that 
 which is perfect is come, that which is iu 
 part shall be done away." 
 
 In regard to their views of the resurrec- 
 tion, Thomas Evans, another of their lead- 
 ing writers, says : " The Society of Friends, 
 believes that there will be a resurrection 
 both of the righteous and the wicked ; the 
 one to ^eternal life and blessedness, and 
 
bU 
 
 mSrOltV AND PUOGRESS OP THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 the otliei to everlasting misery and torment, 
 aijreeahlv to Matt. XXV, 31-45; John V, 
 2:)-.)0 : i Cor. XV, 1 2-o8. That God will 
 juilge the world hy that man whom he hath 
 oidained, even Christ Jesus the Lord, who 
 will render unto every man according to his 
 works ; to them who by patient continuing 
 in well doing during this life, seek for glory 
 and honor, immortality and eternal life; but 
 unto the contentious and disobedient, who 
 obey not the truth, but obey unrighteousness, 
 indignation and wrath, tribulation and an- 
 guish, upon every soul of man that siuueth, 
 for God is no respecter of persons." 
 
 The Friends have ever regarded war as 
 inconsistent with Christianity. For this they 
 refer to the teachings of Christ and his apos- 
 tles, the example of the early Christians, and 
 to the witness lor truth in their own con- 
 sciences, tested and confirmed by the sacred 
 writings. They find that all the emotions 
 which are exercised In wars and fightings are 
 traced to evil lusts, and are inconsistent with 
 love which is thu substauco ol the first, tlie 
 second, and the new commanttment, wliich 
 " worketh no ill to his neighbor," and on 
 which " hang all tlie law and the prophets." 
 They consiiler oaths to be inadmissible, as 
 being positively forbidden by our Lord in 
 language not to be mistaken, and this testi- 
 mony was made the occasion of inflicling se- 
 vere penalties upon the first Friends. Wlien 
 their persecutors failed to convict them upon 
 false charges, it was customary to administer 
 the test oaths to them, on refusing to take 
 which, they were cast into prison. 
 
 They decline to use the conijilimentary 
 and false language of the world, .and to apply 
 to the months and davs, the names given in 
 lioiior of pagan gods, preferring the numeri- 
 cal nomenclature adopted in the Scriptures. 
 In dress, they aim at plainness and simplicity, 
 avoiding the tyranny of an ever changing 
 fashion. As a naturaJ result, a degree of 
 uniformity ot dress prevails among them, 
 liefiring much resemblance to the style in 
 vogue at the rise of the Society. This ap- 
 juoach to uniformity, which at first was unin- 
 ti niional, came to lie cherished as a hedge of 
 defense against worldly and ensnaring asso- 
 ciations, and a means by which they recog- 
 nized each other. The principle at stake is 
 not in the liishion of a garb, but in simplicity 
 and ihe avoidance of changes of fashion. 
 AVhil.-t Frit'iids, as good citizens, have cheer- 
 fully paid all leg.al assessments for the sup- 
 Dort of public schools, and of the poor, and 
 
 have contributed abundantly to the various 
 charities, and general claims of benevoience, 
 they have always been characterized by their 
 scrupulous care in relieving their own poor, 
 so that none of their members come upon 
 the public for maintenance or gratuitous 
 education. 
 
 The Friends had, in 1870, including one 
 in Canada, ten Yearly Meetings in North 
 America, namely, those of Canada, New 
 England, New York, Philadelphia, Balti- 
 more, North Carolina, Ohio, Indiana, West- 
 ern Indiana, and Iowa. The increase of 
 membership in the Western States has been 
 veiy rapid of late years. The membership 
 of the Society is estimated at 80,000. In all 
 the Yearly Jleetings, First Day Schools are 
 conducted with ze.al and efficiency. The 
 number of teachers ^nd scholars in these 
 First Day Schools is about 6.5,000. The 
 North Carolina Yearly Meeting has estab- 
 lished a Normal Firs^ Day School, for the 
 training of teachers of^ these Schools. They 
 have three colleges, all of them of high char- 
 acter for their thorough scholarship, viz. : 
 Haverford College, in Philadelphia county, 
 Penn. ; Earlhain College, Richmond, Indiana, 
 and Whittior College, Salem, Iowa. They 
 have, also, large and admirably conducted 
 boarding schools, under the care of their 
 Yearly Meetings, at West Town, Pa., Prov- 
 idence, R. I., Union Springs, N. Y., and New 
 Garden, N. C. They have two or three 
 peiiodicals of marked ability, 77ic Friends' 
 Revieio, conducted by Mr. AUinson, being in 
 li(,erary merit not inferior to any religious 
 review in this country. 
 
 II. The Society op Friends (Seced- 
 ERS OR HiCKSiTEs). We have already re- 
 ferred to the schism or secession which took 
 place from the Society of Friends, beginning 
 with the Philadelphia Yearly Meeting, in 
 1827. This secession was led by a preacher 
 among the Friends, named Ellas Hicks, and 
 hence those who have followed his leading 
 are commonly called Hicksites, though they 
 repudiate the name and insist that they 
 should be known solely as the Society of 
 Friends. The points of difference between 
 them and the Orthodox Friends seem to have 
 been these : Hicks and his followers, while 
 maintaining a belief in the authenticity and 
 divine authority of the Scriptures, yet do not 
 regard them with the same degree of rever- 
 ence and faith as the Orthodox. In their 
 authorized summaries of Christian doctrine 
 and the " advices of their Yearly Meetings," 
 
niSTOKY AND rnOGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 545 
 
 tiny >ay : '-We acknowledge them to be the 
 Oil y lit ou'ward test of Cliristiau doctrines. 
 \\ e do not call ihein the Word of God, be- 
 cau e tliis appellation is applied by the writ- 
 e s o' the iSeri])tures to that Eternal Powei' 
 
 bv which the worlds were made 
 
 We as ign to the Scriptures all the authority 
 
 tliey claim tor tlieniselves In 
 
 tlii'se invaluable wiitings we find the only 
 autlientic record of the early history of onr 
 race, the purest strains of devotional poetry, 
 aiid ihe sublime discourses of the Sun ot God. 
 Their frequent peru-al was therefore especi- 
 ally urged upon our younger members, who 
 Were encouraged to seek lor the guidance of 
 divine grace, by which alone we realize in 
 our experience the saving truths they con- 
 tain We believe it not the 
 
 ]'art of true wisdom to dwell upon defects, 
 whetlier real or imaginary, in the sacred rec- 
 ords, but rather to use them as they were 
 intended, > for reproof, for correction, for in- 
 struction in righteousness,' remembering that 
 it is only through the operations of the Spir- 
 it, of Faith upon our hearts, that they can be 
 made availing to us in the promotion of our 
 salvation." 
 
 In regard to the original and present state 
 of man, they differ somewhat from the Ortho- 
 dox, as the following extracts show : " It is 
 a scriptui-al doctrine that neither righteous- 
 lies- nor unrighteousness can be transmitted 
 by inheritance, but every man shall be judged 
 according to his deeds Ani- 
 mal propensities may be transmitted from 
 parents to children, but the Scriptures do not 
 teach that we inherit any guilt from Adam, 
 or from any of our ancestors ; nor do we feel 
 any compiniction fur their sins. The lan- 
 guage of our Saviour clearly implies that lit- 
 tle children are innocent: "for of such," he 
 say-, "is the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 The followers of Hicks are generally con- 
 sidered Unitarians or Socinians, and yet, 
 while they apparently do not regard Christ 
 as the Second Terson in the Divine Trinity, 
 nor attribute a saving efficacy to his death 
 and sufferings, we are inclined to the belief 
 that there is a considerable variety in the 
 views of the individual members of the Soci- 
 ety, and, perhaps, even among their leading 
 or representative men on this point. Their 
 '•summaries," and "advices" are exceeding- 
 ly vague, and sometimes conflicting, on these 
 points. The Rules of Discipline of the Phil- 
 adelphia Yearly Meeting, say: "If any in 
 membership with us shall blaspheme, or 
 33* 
 
 speak profanely of Almighty God, Christ 
 Jesus or the Holy Spirit, he or she ought 
 early to be tenderly treated with, for their iji- 
 sti'uction, and the announcement of their un- 
 derstanding, that they may experience repent- 
 ance and forgiveness ; but should any, not- 
 withstanding this brotherly labor, persist ;n 
 their error, or deny the divinity of our Lord 
 and Saviour, Jesus Christ, the immediate 
 revelation of the Holy Spirit, or the authen- 
 ticity of the Scriptures, as it is manifest they 
 are not one in the fiiith with us, the monthly 
 meeting where the party belongs, having ex- 
 tended due care for the help and benefit of 
 the individual without effect, ought to declare 
 the same, and issue their testmiony accord- 
 ingly." Samuel M Janney, author of the 
 " History of Friends," and one of the leading 
 writers of the Seceding party, thus defines 
 their views in regard to Christ: "The most 
 full and glorious manifestation of the divine 
 Word, or Logos, was in Jesus Christ, the 
 immaculate Son of God, who was miracu- 
 lously conceived and born of a Virgin. In 
 him, the manhood, or Son of Man was cn- 
 tirtly subject to the divinity, 'ihe Word 
 toolv riesh, or was manifested in the flesh. . 
 
 The holy manhood of Christ, 
 
 that is, the soul of him m whom the Holy 
 Spirit dwelt witliout measure, is now, and 
 a ways will be, the head or chief member of 
 that spiritual body w hich is made up of the 
 faithful seravnts of God, of all ages and 
 nations. 'There is one God, and one Medi- 
 ator between God and man, the man Christ 
 Jesus.' As Moses was a mediator to ordain 
 the legal dis^iensation, so Jesus Christ was, 
 and is, the Mediator of the New Covenant ; 
 first, to proclaim and exemplify it in the day 
 of his outward advent, and secondly, through 
 all time, in the ministrations of his Spirit. 
 . . . . The great object of the Messiah's 
 advent, is thus declared by himself: "To this 
 end was I born, and for this cause came I 
 into the world, that I should bear witness 
 unto the truth. Every one that is of ihe 
 truili, heareth my voice.' He could not bear 
 witness to the truth, among that corrupt and 
 perverse people, without suffering for it. He 
 foresaw that they wouhl put him to death, 
 and he went forward calmly doing his Fath- 
 er's will, hading a life of self sacrifice, 
 wounded for the transgressions of the peo- 
 ple, baptized spiritually in suH'ering for them, 
 and then finally enduiing, on the cross, the 
 agonies of a lingering death, thus sealing his 
 testimony with Ids blood. His obedience in 
 
546 
 
 HISTOKT AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMIXATIONS. 
 
 dnnkiiig the cup of suffering was acceptable 
 to God, for ' he hath loved us, and hath given 
 himself for us, an otlering and a sacritice to 
 God, for a sweet smelling savor." It was to 
 reconcile man to God, by removing the en- 
 mity fiom man's heart, that Je^us Christ 
 lived, and taught, and suffered, and for this 
 purpose the Spirit of Christ is still manifest- 
 ed as a Uedeemer from the bondage of cor- 
 ruption It is the life of God, 
 
 or spirit of Truth revealed in the soul, which 
 purities and saves from sin. This life is 
 sometime-; spoken of as the blood: for accord- 
 ing to the Mosaic law, '■die bhod is the life.' 
 And when .Jesus told the people, ' except ye 
 eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink 
 his blood ye have no life in you,' he alluded 
 to the life and power of God that dwelt in 
 him, and spake through him." How fiir the 
 views thus stated agree with those generally 
 held by the followers of Ellas Hicks, we can- 
 not say. They would seem to stamp Mr. Jan- 
 ney and his fellow believers as sympathizing 
 with what is sometimes called the Evangelical 
 wing of the Unitarians. In their other views, 
 the Seceders do not differ materially from 
 the Orthodox Friends. They have been, for 
 some years past, quite active in humanitarian 
 enterprises, being strongly anti-slavery, and 
 h iving been active in the promotion of asy- 
 lums and hospitals for the insane, the inebri- 
 ate, the idiot, and foi- orphans, blind persons, 
 and the aged and infirm. They had in 1>S7I), 
 six Yearly Meeiings, and an estimated mem- 
 bership of betweeir3.i,00l) and 40,000. Tliey 
 have not done mui-h iu the way of establish- 
 ing First Day Schools, but their boarding 
 and high schools in New York, Philadelphia, 
 Baltimore, and Richmond, Indiana, as well 
 as their smaller scliools, are of very high 
 character. Swarthmore College, 8 miles S. 
 AV. of Philadelphia, is a well endowed and 
 admirably managed institution, designed for 
 300 pupils, ot' bolh sexes. They have two 
 or three well conducted periodicals. 
 
 III. Pi!Oiiiii:ssivE FiiinNDS. This is a 
 religious society, organised in 18.53, at Ches- 
 ter, Penn., in part as a result of a division in 
 the Kennett Monthly Meeting, of (Hicksite) 
 Friends. The division was caused by a dif- 
 ference of opinion among the members of 
 that meeting, in regard to the propriety of 
 activity in measures of reform. It was or- 
 ganized as the Pennsylvania Yearly Meeting 
 of Progressive Friends, and not long aftei' 
 other organizations in New York and Ohio, 
 having similar objects in view, as well as 
 
 individuals from Now England, New York' 
 and the AVestern States, who sympathized 
 with it, gradually drifted into a similar 
 organization so far as to attend its Yearly 
 Meetings. Mr. Oliver Johnson, formerly of 
 the National Anti-Slavery Standard, and the 
 Independent, who has been long identified 
 with this movement, thus defines its charac- 
 ter and principles : " The nevv Society open- 
 ed its doors to all who recognize the equal 
 brotherhood of the human family, without 
 regard to sex, color, or condition, and who 
 acknowledged the duty of defining and illus- 
 trating their faith in God, not by assent to a 
 creed, but by lives of personal purity, and 
 works of beneficence and charity. It disa- 
 vowed any intention or expectation of bind- 
 ing its members together by agreement as to 
 theological opinions, and declared that it 
 would seek its bond of union in ' identity of 
 object, oneness of spirit iu respect to the 
 practical duties of life, the communion of soul 
 with soul in a common love of the beautiful 
 and true, and a common aspiration after 
 moral excellence.' It disclaimed all discip- 
 linary authority, whether over individual 
 members or local associations ; it set forth no 
 forms or ceremonies, and made no provision 
 for the ministry, as an order distinguished 
 from the laity ; it set its face against every 
 form of ecclesiasticisra, and denounced as the 
 acme of superstitious imposture, the claim of 
 churches to hold an organic relation to 
 God, and to speak by his authority, maintain- 
 ing that such bodies are purely human, the 
 repositories of no power save that rightly 
 conferred upon them by the individuals of 
 whom they are composed." AVith fo radical 
 a platfoini, it is not a matter of surprise that 
 the yearly gatherings of this Society have 
 drawn together ultraists of all shades, the 
 " come outers " of thirty years ago, Spiritual- 
 ists, the advocates of female suflr.agc, and of 
 all manner of jiracticable and impracticable 
 reforms, and that while, in the company, were, 
 many men of lofty purpose and the true mar- 
 tyr spirit, there were others whose whole 
 lives Imd been devoted to wild and fanatical 
 theories m religions, politics, and social life. 
 Generally these gatherings have been largely 
 attended, but except a single local association 
 at Longwood, near Hamorton, Penn., which 
 have kept up for several years, a meeting on 
 every First Day, and a First Day School for 
 chihlrcn, and discuss freely questions of ethics, 
 political economy, and religion at their meet- 
 ings, but have never employed any religious 
 
HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DF.NOMINATIONS. 
 
 547 
 
 teiiclier. It is obviously impossible to give 
 any estimate of the number of Progressive 
 Friends, as their meetings are open to all 
 wlio choose to come, and there is no enroll- 
 ment of member-hip. 
 
 IV. AVe arc inclined to place under this 
 general liead, also, the SHAKERS, or as 
 til' y style themselves, the Unitf.d Society 
 OF Helievehs IV Christ's Second Ap- 
 pearing, not because there is much in com- 
 mon to them and the Societij of Friends now, 
 but because in their origin they were mem- 
 bers of that Society, and because their views 
 of the influence, and inward teachings of the 
 Holy Spirit, though carried to excess, have 
 the same original basis. Attempts have 
 been made to trace tlieir principles back to 
 the Camisards or French prophets, and to 
 the schoid of the prophets in Dauphiny 
 (1C8S-170.'J), but these are so evidently an 
 afterthought, as to be unworthj' of notice. 
 About 1747, some members of the Society 
 of Friends in the vicinity of JManchester, 
 England, formed themselves into a distinct 
 organization, of which James Wardley and 
 Jane, his wife, were the leaders, and a Mr. 
 and iSIrs. Lee were members. Ann Lee, a 
 daugliter of the last named couple, born in 
 17SG, and always seriously inclined, had 
 married, in 17r)G, Aljraham Stanley, and in 
 1758, she, with her husband, joined the asso- 
 ciation. The religious exercises of this little 
 coterie diflered but slightly from those of the 
 other associations of Friends at that time. 
 Tiiey were noticeable for greater and more 
 decided physical manifestations than most, 
 such as dancing, shouting, trembling, speak- 
 ing with tongues, but these were common in 
 that day, and it was oidy when the excite- 
 ment was so great as to lead the magistrates 
 and others to charge them with breaking the 
 Sabbath, that the Wardlej-s, and Ann Lee 
 and her family were fined and imprisoned. 
 In 1770, Ann Lee, then 34 years of age, and 
 to all appearance a womau of no exti aordin- 
 ary talents or education, professed to have 
 received, by a special manifestation of divine 
 light, those revelations which made her the 
 foundi'r of a new faith, and liave caused her 
 followers ever since to regard her as an in- 
 spired being, and to give her the name of 
 Mother Ann. 
 
 In 1774, Mother Ann, and nine of the 
 more prominent members of the Society, un- 
 der autiiority of a special revelation, emi- 
 grated to America, and 8 of the number pro- 
 ceeding up the Hudson, settled at Niskayuna 
 
 (now Watervliet), seven miles from Albany, 
 N. Y., a region then a wilderness. Here 
 they remained for three or four years with- 
 out any excitement, or considerable increase 
 of their numbers. In 1770, a religious revi- 
 val occurred at Xew Lebanon, Columbia Co., 
 some thirty miles from Niskayuna, and was 
 accompanied by those extraorduiary physical 
 manifestations which a little later character- 
 ized the great revivals in Kentucky and 
 Tennessee. In the spring of 1780, some of 
 those who had been most affected by these 
 manifestations, visited Mother Ann at Water- 
 vliet, and found in her revelations, as they 
 believed, the explanation of their experiences. 
 Led by their statements, others visited her, 
 and the number of alherents to her doctrines 
 began to increase rapidly, and continued to 
 do so until some time after her death, which 
 occurred in 1784. Among the revelations 
 which she professed to have received was 
 one directing that there should be a commu- 
 nity of goods among her adherents, and an- 
 other requiring their organization into one or 
 more unitary households. In 1787, Joseph 
 Jleacham, who had formerly been a Baptist 
 preacher, and who was one of her earliest 
 converts at Niskayuna, gathered her adher- 
 ents into a settlement at New Lebanon, and 
 established there the first unitary household 
 on a large scale, and with com])lete conunu- 
 nit_v of goods. He was an able administrator, 
 and in five years he had organized 1 1 Shaker 
 settlements, in New York, Massachusetts, 
 Connecticut, New Hampshire, and Maine. 
 No others were established until 180.5, when, 
 after some years effort, four were established 
 in Ohio, and 2 in Kentucky. All are on the 
 same moilel as that of tlie New Lebanon 
 Community, regarded from tlie first as the 
 mother liou-e. Each settlement consists of 
 from two to eight families or households. 
 Each family occupies a large dwelling-house, 
 divided through the center by wide halls, and 
 capable of containing from 30 to 150 in- 
 mates, the men occupying one end and the 
 women the other. Beside these, there are 
 storehou-es, workshops, dairy houses, a 
 school house for the children they adopt, and 
 a meeting-house or hall. Considerables tracts 
 of land are attached to each settlement, rang- 
 ing from seven to ten acres to each member. 
 They believe idleness to be sinful, and 
 hence every member who is able to work is 
 em])loyed in some useful labor. They culti- 
 vate flowers, medicinal herbs and roots, 
 fruits, vegetables, and collect garden and 
 
548 
 
 HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 flower seeds, dry and pre-erve fruits, put up 
 dried herbs and roots, and make medicinal 
 extracts. They have also extensive manu- 
 factories connected with their settlements. 
 Brooms, wooden and willow ware, some de- 
 scriptions of cloths, flannels, etc., etc., are pro- 
 duced by them. Their schools are of high 
 grade and abundantly supplied with the best 
 text books, and apparatus. Their doctrines 
 as stated by their chief elder, F. W. Evans, 
 are these : " God is dual, there being an 
 Eternal Father and Mother in the Deity, 
 the heavenly parents of all angelical and 
 human beings. The revelation of God is 
 progressive ; in the first or antediluvian pe- 
 riod of human history, God was only known 
 as a Great Spirit ; in ihe second or Jewish 
 period, he was revealed as the " I am that I 
 am," or Jehovah ; in the third cycle, Jesus 
 made him known as a Father; and in the 
 last cycle, commencing with 1770, God is re- 
 vealed in the character of Mother, an Eter- 
 nal Wolher, the bearing spirit of all the ere 
 ation of God. This last is regarded by them 
 as a revelation of God's affectional nature, a 
 manifestation of the divine love and tender- 
 ness. They believe Christ to be also dual, 
 male and female, a supra-numdane being, 
 and, at his first appearing, the cumniuuicator 
 of the new revelation to Je-us, who, in their 
 system, was a divinely instructed, pure, and 
 perfect man, and who, in consequence of his 
 divine anointing, became .Jesus Christ. In 
 the new revelation maue to Jesus, these 
 truths were first brought to light ; the im- 
 mortality of the soul, and the resurrection of 
 the soul, whiili \\vy define a-! the quickening 
 of the germ of a new life, after the death of 
 the first, Adamic, or generative life. 
 
 All who marry or are given in marriage, 
 or who indidge in the earthly prncreative 
 relation, they call ''the children of this 
 world," and followers of the first Adam ; 
 they do not condemn them for living in the 
 marital relation so long as they confine its 
 use simply to tlie purpose of procreation, the 
 production of offspring being, in their view, 
 the only justification of sexual intercourse. 
 But Shakers, as Christians, hold that they 
 are called to lead a spiritual and holy life, 
 not only free from all lust and carnal sexual 
 indulgrnce, but even to rise above the order 
 o. natural and innocent human reproduction, 
 being themselves the "children of the resur- 
 rection," and as such daily dying to the gen- 
 erative nature, as .Jesus and the apostles 
 died to it, and thus becoming new creatures, 
 
 who are able to comprehend the " nivsterit s 
 of God." Among the other doctrines in 
 which, as they believe, '• Chri>t instructs 
 Jesus," were, human brother hood, and its de- 
 velopment in a eomnuuiily of goods ; non- 
 resistance ; non-participation in any earthly 
 government, and the necessity of a life of 
 celibacy and virgin pin-ity to a perfect (. hris- 
 tianity. 
 
 The second appea ing of the Christ "with- 
 out sin unio salvation," they believe took place 
 through jMother Ann I.ee, in 177(1. She, "by 
 strictly obeying the light revealed in her, be- 
 came righteous, even as .Jesus was righteous. 
 She acknowledged Jesus Christ as ht r Head 
 and I>ord, and fbi med the same character as a 
 spiritual woman, that he did as a spiritual 
 man." The necessity for a second appear- 
 ing of Christ in the female form, rchu'led 
 from the dual nature of Christ, and of the 
 Deity. " Still it was not Jesus, nor Ann, 
 but the principles already stated, v\hich were 
 the foundation of ihe Second Chiistian 
 Church. Their importance is deiived fiom 
 the fact of their lieiiig the fii'st man and the 
 first woman perfectly ide'ntif.ed vith the 
 principles and spirit of Chrisi." Tlis sec- 
 ond appearing of Christ they believe to be 
 the true resurrection state, and re] uiiiate a 
 [ihysical resurrection as rc|iugnant to science, 
 reason, and Scripture. AVe have iiolieed 
 their four cycles of human religious prigress; 
 they also believe that there are four heavens 
 and four hells, the first three of which are 
 still places of probation. The first heaven 
 and hell were for the good and wicked i f 
 the antediluvians, and the "spirits in pris- 
 on," to whom Christ preached in the inter- 
 val between his death and resurrection, wi re 
 the wicked of that cycle. Gehenna is the 
 name they give to the second bell, to which 
 are consigned wicked Jews and heathen v\ho 
 died before the coming of Jesus ; and the 
 second heaven is paradise, where the thief 
 on the cross had the promise of going. The 
 third heaven is that of the church of the fii st 
 appearing of Christ, to which Paul was 
 caught up. Higher and moie glorious than 
 tho.se which ];receded it. it is still not tl e 
 home of perfect souls. The hell of the thiid 
 cycle is a place of loiment for tlose who did 
 not believe iu. nor fobow Christ, according 
 to tiie light of tlio-e days. The fourtli hea- 
 ven is now forming ; in it .Jesus and Mother 
 Ann reside, and to it will all flu se go who 
 have resisted teniptat'on until their evil lusts 
 and propensities are all desti'oyed, and the 
 
niSTORr AND PROGRESS OP THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 549 
 
 life of the generative, natural man is dead in 
 I them, for such are boin of God, and cannot 
 sill. No one but Jesus had ever attained to 
 thi-! previous to the second appearing of 
 Christ in Ann Lee. It is the Iieaven of hea- 
 v.^iis, and to it will be gathered not only all 
 wlio aci'ept the doctrines of the Shakers in 
 this world, and attaiu to the new birth, but 
 all those in the lower heavens and hells who 
 shall yet accept them ; and when tlieir deci- 
 sion is finally made, the lower heavens and 
 hells, and the earth will be destroyed, and 
 only the fourth heaven for the true believers, 
 and the fourth hell for the finally impenitent, 
 wid remain. P^ach cycle has had its own 
 Holy Spirit, the spirilual efllux from the 
 Church in the heaven of that cycle to the in- 
 habitants of earth at the time. They hold 
 to oral confession of sins to God in the )ires- 
 ence of one or two witnesses, as essential to 
 the reception of the power to forsake sin. 
 They believe that the second dispensation 
 (ihat of J\Ioses) was intended to teach by 
 revelation, God's truth pertaining to the 
 earth life chiefly, and they regard the princi- 
 jiles of the Levitical laws, in regard to food 
 and agriculture, etc., as binding to-day as 
 when they were given. All physical disease 
 they say, is the result of some physiological 
 sin against the teachings of Moses, either di- 
 rectly or indirectly. They believe in the 
 j)Ower of their members to heal ph3'sical dis- 
 eases, by means of prayer and the regulation 
 of the diet. 
 
 The liible they regard as a record of 
 divine angelic ministrations to man, and as a 
 more or less imperfect account of the reli- 
 gious experience and history of the Jews. 
 They believe that the mental and spiritual 
 condition of the seers and projihets whose 
 prophecies are i herein recorde<l, has mateii- 
 ally modified the revelation, and that it has 
 been still farther weakened and impaired by 
 the imperfections of the translators ; the book 
 of Revelations having suffered less than any 
 other from these causes, inasmuch as it is 
 utterly incomprehensible to the generative 
 man, and could not be comprehended even 
 by the spiritual until the second appearing of 
 Christ (through Mother Ann Lee), as that 
 was the only key to unlock its mysteries. 
 The revelations of Ann Lee and of others of 
 their elders who have been inspired to speak 
 the wo]<ls of God, they regard as important 
 and bind ng on them. 
 
 Their mode of worship is peculiar. The 
 two sexes are usually ranged in ranks facing 
 
 each other, the front ranks being from six to 
 ten feet apart. First there is usually an ad- 
 dress by one of the elders, " who is moved to 
 speak" on some doctrinal subject, or some 
 practical virtue, usually closing with a recital 
 of the exalted privileges which they enjoy 
 over the " world's people ; " after this they sing 
 a hymn, and then form in circles around a band 
 of male and female singers, and commence 
 marching or dancing, and when, as is some- 
 times the case, the excitement and fervor 
 reaches its height, their motions, though 
 retaining the order and rhythm of the dance, 
 become inconceivahly rapid. At these sea- 
 sons they believe themselves to be under the 
 influence of spirit agencies, both of angels, 
 and the departed members of their own 
 brotherhood, who have attained in the other 
 life to a greater freedom from the generati\e 
 nature and order, and a more complete res- 
 urrection of the soul, than those who are still 
 in the body can reach. Their ministry are 
 very few in nundjers. Two of their most 
 judicious and experienced brethren and the 
 same numl)er of sisters are chosen to have 
 the oversight of from one to three or four 
 vSocieties ; so that there are only twenty or 
 twenty-four of these ministers in all. P^ach 
 family in every Society has also four elders, 
 viz., two brethren, and two sisters, who ha\e 
 charge of it, and the temporalities are cared 
 for by two deacons, and two deaconesses. 
 
 There are three classes of members: 1. 
 The novitiates, who unite with the Society in 
 religious faith and principle, but do not enter 
 into the temporal connection with it. Believ- 
 ers of this class are not controlled by the 
 Society as to their property, children, or 
 families. 
 
 2. The Juniors, who join one of the families 
 of the Society, and unite in its labors and re- 
 ligious exercises, but who have not relin- 
 quished their propert}- to the Society, or if 
 they have given the Society the improve- 
 ment of it, may resume it at any time, 
 though w'ithout interest; and 3d, the Senior 
 class, who, after a full and complete experi- 
 ence of the Shaker S3'stem and failh, have 
 deliberately consecrated themselves, their ser- 
 vices, and all their property to the Society 
 never to be reclaimed by themselves or their 
 legal heirs. All who retain their connection 
 with the Shaker Communities are amply 
 provided for in health, in sickness, and in old 
 age. The Shaker Communities are all thrifty 
 and have acquired by their industry, consid. 
 erable, and some of them very large amount^ 
 
550 
 
 HISTOKT AND PROGRESS OP THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 of property. They had. at tlic late-t reports, 
 18 societies, about (5, >0() full members (Sen- 
 iors), and, |)erlmps, 1,000 more juniors and 
 noviliates, besides a considerable number 
 (nearly three thousand, it is said) of children, 
 orphans, and others, whom they have adopt- 
 ed, and whom ihey carefully educate. They 
 are thrifty, industrious citizens, and in all 
 the relations of life very exemplary. 
 
 IX. UNITAS FRATRUM, OR MORAVIANS. 
 The Moravians, ok Unity op the 
 Brethren ( Unitas Fratrum ), as they style 
 their religious body, originated with the Bo- 
 hemian and Moravian churches of the 9th 
 century, but did not assume their present 
 organization till 14")7, although they identify 
 themselves with the followers of John Huss 
 more than half a century earlier. They were 
 almost crushed out by the persecutions of 
 Ferdinand II, in 1G21 and the following 
 years, but through the fostering influence of 
 the writings and teachings of Amos Comen- 
 ius, one of their bishops, they were enabled 
 to maintain a secret existence. About 1720 
 a Moravian exile. Christian David, began to 
 address them earnestly, and a revival ensued. 
 In 1722. two families, subsequently followed 
 by others, made their escape from IMoravia, 
 and, after a journey of eleven days, reached 
 the estate of Count Zinzendorf, a young Sax- 
 on nobleman, and were cordially received. 
 The Count became thencefortli their leader, 
 and in five years had 300 Moravians on his 
 estate. They had built a village on the 
 Hutberg, called Ilerrnhut. In 17o5, tliey 
 had obtained the Episcopal succession of the. 
 Unitas Fratrum, and in 174',) they were ac- 
 knowledged by the British Parliament as an 
 Episcopal Church, ami encouraged to settle 
 in North America. They accordingly foun- 
 ded several settlements in the American Col- 
 onies, and engaged with great zeal in mission- 
 ary labors among the Indians, in which they 
 were very succesful. They also founded 
 missions in Greenland and elsewhere, many 
 years before the other Protestant denomina- 
 tions had engaged in missionary eHbrt. 
 Their plan of " settlements " or villages in 
 which no person could be a j)ermanent 
 householder unless he or she was a member 
 of the Church, as well as their unitary house- 
 hold of single men and youths, of single sis- 
 ters and young maidens, and of widows, each 
 presided over by elders of their own sex, 
 their very rigid rules in regard to marriage, 
 
 and their exclusive and earnest devotion to 
 the missionary work, while it kept their num- 
 bers small, greatly contributed to their pu- 
 rity of faith and doctrine. At the period of 
 the Revolution, tlicy probably did not num- 
 ber, of full communicants, m the United 
 State.s, more than o,0U0 souls, and, perhaps, 
 not so many. They had, beside, their sev-- 
 eral thousand converts among the Indians, 
 who remained faithful to their religious prin- 
 ciples, and a considerable number of whom 
 were martyrs to their fa'th. The distinctive 
 settlements, and the brethren's, sisters', and 
 widows' houses are now entirely given up in 
 the United States. They have two prov- 
 inces, a Northern, and a Southern, the head- 
 quarters of the northern being at Bethlehem, 
 Penn., and of the soulhern, at Salem, N. C. 
 They have also large boarding schools, and 
 are predominant in the population at Beth- 
 lehem, Nazareth, and Litiz, Penn., and at 
 Salem, N. C. 
 
 The Moravians are thoroughly Evangelical 
 in their doctrines, and while they sympathize 
 most heartily and fully with the Evangelical 
 churches in all the great cardinal doctrines 
 of scriptural Christianity, they regard it as 
 their special mission to make the principal 
 theme of their j)reaching and teaching, the 
 life, merits, acts, words, sufferings, and death 
 of the Saviour ; considering the revelation of 
 God in Christ as intended to be the most 
 beneficent revelation of the Deity to the 
 human race. In thus preaching and teach- 
 ing, they carefully avoid entering into any 
 theoretical disquisition on the mysterious es- 
 sence of the Godhead, simply adhering to the 
 words of Scripture. Admitting the Sacred 
 Scriptures as the only source of Divine Rev- 
 elation, they nevertheless believe that the 
 Spirit of God continues to lead those who 
 believe in Christ, into all truth ; not by re- 
 vealing new doctrines, but by teaching those 
 who sincerely desire to learn, daily better to 
 understand and apply the truths which the 
 Scriptures contain. They believe that to 
 live conformably to the gospel, it is essential 
 to aim in all things to fulfil the will of God. 
 Even in their temporal concerns, they en- 
 deavor to ascertain the will of the Lord. 
 They do not, indeed, expect any miraculous 
 manifestation of his will, but only endeavor 
 to test the purity of their purposes by the 
 light of the Divine Word. Nothing of con- 
 sequence is done by them, as a Society, until 
 such an examination has taken place : and 
 in cases of dilliculty, the question is decided 
 
HISTORir AXD PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 551 
 
 by 101, lO avoid the undue preponderance ot 
 intiueutial men. ai.d in the liuniljle hope that 
 God will guide them rightly by its decision, 
 where their limited understanding fails them. 
 In regard to their general, doctr.nal belief, 
 the following summary, revised and put foitli 
 b}' tlieir General >Synod in ISGi), is their 
 most authoritative statement: 
 
 " We regard every truth revealed to us in 
 the Word of God as an invaluable treaMire, 
 and sincereh' believe that the loss of life it- 
 self would be a trifling evil corajiared with 
 ihe denial of any one of them. But most 
 especially is this the ease with that truth 
 which the Renewed Church of the Brethren 
 has ever regarded as her chief doctrine, an 
 inestimable jewel, which, by God's grace, she 
 still holds fast : 
 'That whosoe'er believeth in Christ's redemption, 
 May fiiiil free <:race and a complete exemption 
 From serving sin.* 
 
 From this great truth, we deduce the fol- 
 lowing points of' doctrine most essential to 
 salvation : 
 
 a. The doctrine of the total deprai-iti/ of Inr 
 tnan nature, — that there is no health in us — 
 and that, since the fall, we have no power to 
 help ourselves out of the bondage of sin. 
 
 h. The doctrine of the love of God the 
 Father, who 'has chosen us in Christ, before 
 the foundation of the world,' and who ' so 
 loved the world that he gave his oidy begot- 
 ten Son, that whosoever believeih on Him 
 should not perish, but have everlasting life." 
 
 c. The doctrine of the real Godhead, and 
 the real manhood of Jesus Christ ; that God, 
 the Creator of all things, was manliest in the 
 flesh, and has reconciled the world unto him- 
 self — that ' He is before all things, and by 
 Ilim all things exist.' 
 
 d. The doctrine of tite atoj^ement and satis- 
 faction of Jcsvs Christ for us ; that he 'was 
 delivered for our offences, and was raised 
 again for our justification,' and tliat in liis 
 merits alone we find forgiveness of sins and 
 peace with God. 
 
 e. The doctrine of the Holy Ghost and his 
 gracious operations ; that it is he who works 
 in us the knowledge of sin, faith in Jesus, 
 and the witness that we are the children of 
 God, and that without him we cannot know 
 the truth. 
 
 /. The doctrine of the fruits of faith; that 
 it must show itself as an active principle, by 
 a willing obedience to God's commandments, 
 flowing from love and gratitude, and that 
 
 genuine taith will ever be thus distinguisha- 
 ble." 
 
 In their church polity, the Moravians have 
 points of similarity to several other denomi- 
 nations ; they have bishops, presbyters, and 
 deacons like the Protestant Episcopal Church, 
 but their bishops are not diocesan, but are 
 aj>pointed for the whole church ; they hold 
 to Episcopal succession, which they derive 
 through the Bohemian and Moravian 
 churches, and which, if apostolical, comes 
 through Paul in^tead of Peter ; but their 
 bishops possess no governing power by vir- 
 tue of their bishopiic; it is the General Sy- 
 nod and its boards that govern, and the bish- 
 ops derive their power, if they have any, 
 from their connection with some of these 
 boards; their presbjters or elders are preach- 
 ers and pastors; their deacons are young 
 ministers and mi-sionaries, who can adminis- 
 ter the sacraments after receiving their first 
 ordination. They have a liturgy consisting 
 of a litany, forms for infant and adult bap- 
 tism (they are Pa:do-baptisls), the sacrament 
 of the Lord's Supper, the rites of confirma- 
 tion and ordination, the burial of the dead, 
 and marriage. Love-feasts, the apostolical 
 offopec, are celebrated, and once a year, or 
 oftener, there is the rite of " washing the 
 saints' feet." Their General Synod, always 
 held at Bethelsdorf, in Saxony, meets only 
 once in ten or twelve years. It has cogniz- 
 ance of the whole aflairs of the " Unity of the 
 Brethren ; " but in most matters, local 
 Boards of Elders of the several provinces, 
 have control in the interim of the sessions of 
 the Synod. Each province has its synod, 
 and its Provhicial Elders' Conference, and 
 these, and not the Bishops, manage all mat- 
 ters connected with the Church in their ])ro- 
 vince. The American province is divided 
 into two districts, a northern and a southern. 
 They are still very active in the missionary 
 work, and have, in addition to their mission- 
 aries among the heathen, nearly a hundred 
 of their ministers who are serving in Luth- 
 eran and Reformed churches. In these 
 churches, there are many thousands who are 
 almost as closely affiliated to them as their 
 own members. Every church is divided 
 into three cl.asses : the Catechumens, compris- 
 ing the children of the brethren, and adult 
 converts ; the Communicants, who are admit- 
 ted to the Lord's Supper, and are regarded 
 as members of the church ; and TIte ferfect, 
 consisting of those who have pertevered for 
 
552 
 
 HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DCNOMIXATIONS. 
 
 a long time in a (.'ourse of true piety. From 
 tliis last class are chosen in eveiy church by 
 a |)lu -ality of votes, the elders, who are from 
 three to e\'j:ht in luimlier. These elders are 
 of lioth sexes, and are assistants to the i)as- 
 tors, in the fjeneral church woik. 
 
 The latest statistics we have cf the Mora- 
 ' v'au Church are only to the close of IbOS. 
 Th-y had then live bishops, one of whom has 
 since deceased ; CO ministers ; 54 co.igrega 
 tions; 0,7G8 commiiuicaiits ; 11.855 mem- 
 bers, incliidinj; baptized children, etc. ; 623 
 Sunday School teachers, and 5.1)59 Sunday 
 School scholars. Tiii'ir boarding schools 
 have increased to six by the addition of one 
 at Cha-ka, JNIinn., aiid one in Bartholomew 
 Co., Ind. Tliey have a theological school at 
 Bethlehem, Penn. Their only periodical in 
 the United States, T/ie Moravian., is publish- 
 ed at Bethlehem. There is no statement of 
 the portion of the missionary work, or the 
 missionary contributions from the American 
 Moravian churches, the mission work being 
 conducted from the headquarters in Saxony. 
 Tlie entire contributions of the whole church 
 for missionary purposes, (which had 15,170 
 communicants in 1808) was about $125,000. 
 
 X. UyiTAKIANS AND UNIVERSALISTS. 
 
 I. UNITARIANS. The rejection of the 
 doctrine of the Trinity, and the subordina- 
 tion of the Son to the Father, with the af- 
 ceptance of the otiier docti-ines which have 
 Ireen aHiiiatc<l with it, has existed in one 
 firm or another since the second or third 
 century. At first it was Ariaiiism. contend- 
 ing that the expression, " on y begotten Son 
 of the Father," implies a beginning and a 
 subordination of the Son ; this view, thougii 
 maintained even to the ear'y part of the pres- 
 ent century in some quarters, gave place g' n- 
 erally, to the slightly modified theories of 
 Fau-tu< and Laelius Socinus, in the lOtli cen- 
 tury, and these, tiiough still prevalent on the 
 roiuinent of Europe, and largely held in the 
 last century in England, by Priestley and his 
 followers, have in their turn been succeeded 
 by the Uni'arianism of Channing and his 
 suocessors. Priestley's views, founded on the 
 priiici|)les of the sensational pluloso|)hv, and 
 acci'ptinj; religious truths on llu; evidence of 
 miracle, but limiting the number of those 
 t"u lis to the canlinal docirines, the unity of 
 God, and the general re>urrection, found 
 some credence in the American Colonies 
 about the middle of the List century. Priest- 
 
 ley himself visited Philadelphia, in 1770. 
 Emlyn's ' Inquiry into the Scripture Ac- 
 count of Jesus Chri t," was published in 
 Bo-ton, in 1750, and there was a gradual 
 lapsing of veiy many of the clergy of ,Ma-i- 
 sachusets mto Ari:ni views in the latter part 
 of the eigliteenth century, the result in jiart, 
 doubtless, of ihat loo-eness of doctrine which 
 grew out of the adoption of the Half way 
 Covenan'. Toward the close of the century, 
 the tone of religious society in Boston was 
 very generally Unitarian, repudiating the 
 Divinity of Christ, and the necessity of an 
 atoning sacrifice, but declining to enter into 
 ]iarticulars in regard to the exact stains of 
 Chrir-t in their re igious system. In 180.5, a 
 Unitarian was elected professor of divinity in 
 Harvard University. But as yet, there was 
 no separaiion, and no lines were drawn, 
 among the Congregationalists of Massachu- 
 setts, liotween Orth' dox and Unitarian. The 
 separation came in 1815 and the following 
 years, when the eloquent Channing avowed 
 liis Unitarian views, and led oftSfrora 15,t)()0 
 to '2<i,OiiO members of the Congregational 
 churches of Massachusetts, or nearly 200 
 congregations. Channing was not an ultra- 
 ist in Ills views, and his plan of h itlulrawing 
 interest from points of controversial divinity, 
 subordinating v- ligious theories to the reli- 
 gious life, and bringing into marked promi- 
 nence the spiritual eleiuenls of luinian nature, 
 and in this way initiating the practice of try- 
 ing religious systems by the instincts and 
 sentiments of the soul, was exceedingly at- 
 tiactive to those restless spirits who had so 
 long been in search of some taith which could 
 satisfy their aesthetic nature, and quiet their 
 perturbed spirits. But Channing's success- 
 ors went farther than he, and many of them 
 in a ditt'ereut direction. 
 
 It is hard to define the Unitarian bidief, 
 because it is not, in any sense, a unity. 
 Wh le its adherents have some |)o>!tive 
 l>o:nls of belief, in which, however, they 
 widely disagree, tln-ir tenets are better ex- 
 pressed by a series of negatives, than by pos- 
 itive declarations, confessidus, or creeds. 
 Tliey agree in holding to the Unity of God, 
 .•md the subordiiiatidu of the Son of God; 
 but while some of them do not attempt to 
 define his real jiosition in their religious sys- 
 tem, others hold to e\ery phase of beliftf 
 from those who accept the Trinity in a phil- 
 oso| Ideal sense, but reject the deity of Christ, 
 !o iho: e who hold him to have been mere 
 man, a v>eal- and peacetible man, or a myth. 
 
HISTORY AND P )GK!:SS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 553 
 
 A CDiisiik'ralile numlier. though not a m;ijor- 
 ity, believe him to be a super-angelic being, 
 divinely eeniniissioned to l)e the mediator be- 
 tween <ji)(l and man ; others hold that he 
 was a teacher, the projJiet and founder of a 
 new religious system ; the major part regard 
 him iis sinless and pure in his teachings and 
 life, while .1 not inconsiderable minority class 
 him with Moses, Zartusht, Gotama, Moham- 
 med, and Swedenbcirg, as a reformer, but by 
 no means an inliidible one. They generally 
 regard the Holy Spirit as an intiuence, while 
 some agree in rejecting,' in whole or in jiart, 
 the doctrines of man's depravity and moral 
 inability, but in regard to the atonement, 
 they range all the way from a modified con- 
 ception of Christ's otlice as a Redeemer and 
 Saviour, to the opinion that his whole func- 
 tion was d scharged in his cilice of teacher, 
 exemplar, or refoi'mer. A'ery few Unitari 
 ans hold to the doctrine of eternal punish- 
 ment of the wicked, but here again their 
 views vary from those who believe in a pro- 
 tracted period of retribution, to those who 
 hold to a speedy restoration, or tlio?e who 
 entertain the dogma that the only retribu- 
 t'on ibr sin is in this life. In regaid to the 
 inspiration of the Scriptures, there is a simi- 
 lar diversity of belief Chamiing, Andrews, 
 Korton, and the early American Unitarian-;, 
 like their English and Polish brethren, held 
 to the |)lenary inspiration of the Scriptures, 
 and some of them wi'ote ably and eloquentlj^ 
 in d<d'ence of the doctrine ; but the ''Ad- 
 vanced Unitarians" of the present day, "do 
 nol appeal to the .Scriptmcs as inspired and 
 infallible oracles, but discuss religious ques 
 tions on grounds of piiilo ophy alone. Re- 
 garding the Hible as the nio-t interesting and 
 valual>le part of the world's literature, they 
 seek in it illustrations of spiritual laws, but 
 not tinal statements of moral and religious 
 truth. To soine, the Vedas and Shastas of 
 the Hindoos, the Zendavesta, the Koran, 
 and the revelations of Swedenborg, are of 
 nearly equal authenticity and inspiration with 
 the Bible, 
 
 Unitarianism can hardly be said to have 
 any distinctive ordinances or sacraments. 
 Tlie churches which tirst separated from 
 Trinitarian Congregationalism, recjuiied bap- 
 tism both of infants and adidts, and especi- 
 ally of the latter, but it had lost its signifi- 
 cance with their clianged views of the atone- 
 ment, and now infant baptism is wliolly aban- 
 doned, and adult baptism only maintained in 
 a few churches on sentimental groui.ds. The 
 
 same may be said of the sacrament of the 
 Lord's Supper. \\ here practiced, it is only 
 as a means of cultivatii g the religious life, 
 and not as a sacrament at all. In iheir 
 clunxh ])olity, they are Congregationalists, 
 with, perhaps, s<'mewliat more indepeudi ncy 
 than the Orthodox Congregalionalists. Some 
 of their churches have adoiited a sort of lit- 
 urgy, and maintain a vesper ser\ice of a 
 musical and devotional character. They 
 have, within the past filteen or twenty jears, 
 maniliested an increased spirit of propagand- 
 ism, disseminating t hanning's woiks, ai;d 
 other Unitarian works ]iublished bj' the 
 American Unitai'ian Association, and con- 
 ducting some Home and Foreign missionarj- 
 operations through their denominational or- 
 ganizations, '1 hey have given increased at- 
 tention to the (iromolion of education, and 
 have maintained among their clergymen that 
 high reputation for elegant belles-lettres at- 
 taiimients, and rhetorical ability, which have 
 characterized them from the first. They 
 liave planted Unitarian Societies in most of 
 the large cities tiiroughout the countrj', and 
 though their congregations are neither nu- 
 merous nor large, they have collected in them 
 a considerable lumiber of men of line culture 
 and a'Sthetic tastes. Still Unitarianism 
 proper cnn hardly be said to floinish out of 
 New England, haidly, indeed, out of Massa- 
 chusetts. Its adherents there and elsewhere 
 deserve credit for their active himianitarian 
 etTorts. In rescuing vagrant and vicious 
 children from the evil uifiuence to which 
 they are exposed, in caring for the aged and 
 infirm, the sick and homeless, and especially 
 for their efforts in behalf of the sick and 
 wounded soldiers of our late war, in connec- 
 tion with the United States Sanitary Com- 
 mission, and their earnest loyalty, the Uni- 
 tarians are deserv ng of all honor. 
 
 The Unitarians have under their control 
 three colleges, viz : Harvard University, 
 Cambridge, Mass. ; Antioch College, Yellow 
 Springs, Ohio, and Huiuboldt College, Hum- 
 boldt, Iowa. They have also three theologi- 
 cal or Divinity Schools; viz: the Cambridge 
 Divinity School, wiih 5 professors, and SO 
 students; the Hoston School for the j\linis- 
 try, Boston, with 12 instruc ors, and 23 stu- 
 dents; and the Meadville Theological School, 
 with 8 professors and 29 students. They had 
 also one nearly organized at Chicago, previ- 
 ous to the great fire. 
 
 They had. in 1870, five periodicals : two 
 monthlies, '•Oldaitd Xcii;" and the Monthly 
 
554 
 
 HISTORY AND PROGRESS OP THE DIFFERENT DFNOMINATIONS. 
 
 Seliffious Ma'iazlne ; one semi-moutlil_y, the 
 Suiidaii School Gazette, and two weelilies. 
 The Christian Reyisler, and The Liberal 
 Christian. Theii. statistics in 1870, were : 
 one National Conference, 347 societies, 39(3 
 ministers, of wliom 148 were not in the. pas- 
 torate. These societies represent it is be- 
 lieved, from 30,000 to 40,000 members, and 
 an aillii-rent popnlation of 60,000 to iS;i.000. 
 Tlie American Unitarian Association, wliich 
 publishes denominational books and aids 
 Unitarian edu.'ational institutions, has an 
 annual income of $100,000 or over. They 
 have four or five mission stations in India, 
 also aided by this Association. There are 
 Sunday Schools attiiched to many of the 
 societies, but no general statistics of tliem 
 are published. In most of the cities there 
 are Young Men's Christian Unions, with 
 libraries and reailing rooms attached. 
 
 II. UNI VERS ALISTS. Though entirely 
 distinct in their origin, and giving special 
 prominence to a dogma which the Unitari- 
 ans keep partially iu the background, there 
 is really very little ditference in the doctrinal 
 belief of Unitarians and Universalists. At 
 first they appealed to diiferent •classes of so- 
 ciety ; the Unitarians liaving among their 
 adherents, espeii.dly in Massarhusetts, a large 
 proportion of the relined and s<diolarly class, 
 and their discourses being models of graceful 
 rhetoric, while the Universalists gathered 
 intD their congregations very considerable 
 numbers of working men, sharp aud ready 
 reasoners, but with no great amount of cul- 
 ture or refinement, and their preachers i ulii- 
 vated the power of rough and ready declara- 
 tion rather than the graces of oratory. There 
 had been very few, if any, acknowledged 
 Universalists in the American Colonies pri- 
 or to 1770, though undoubtedly some (U'omi- 
 nent theologians iiad rather iioped than be- 
 lieved in the final restoration of tbo,se who 
 had die 1 unpenitent. In that year, however. 
 John Murray, who had been an English 
 ^Vesleyau preacher, but had become a con- 
 vert to Universalist doctrines, as taught by 
 one James Uelly, came over to America, and 
 lauded in New Jersey. He soon went to 
 Mas-achnsetts .and commenced a .series of 
 it neiant journeys tiirough the states, preach- 
 ing his views. At first, he did not make 
 raauy converts, and it was not until 1779 
 that the first Universalist Society was organ- 
 ized, in Glouce-iter, Mass. In 17H1, Rev. 
 Elhaiian Winchester, a Baptist clergyman of 
 Philadelphia, avowed his belief ia the final 
 
 I restoration of the wicked to h.appiness and 
 heaven, and oi-ganized a church of Kestoia- 
 tionists, in that city. From that time the 
 Univer-alists began to increase, their growth 
 being promoted by the very strong o])position 
 manifested towards them. In 1791, Rev. 
 Ilosea Ballon, who had also been a Baptist 
 minister, espoused the views of Murray, and 
 advocate<l them with great vigor and earnest- 
 ness. The growth of the denomirjation has 
 been steady and considerably rapid during 
 the present century. The most full and sat- 
 isfactory exposition of the doctrines of the 
 Universalists we have ever seen is that given 
 hy Rev. T. B. 'Ihayer, one of their clergy- 
 men, in the New American Cyclnpajdia. Vol. 
 XV, pp. 834, 835. It is as follows : I. They 
 believe that God is infinite in all his porfec- 
 lions, creating man with the fixed purpcse 
 that the existence he was about to bestow 
 should prove a final and everlasting blessing; 
 that foreseeing all the temptations, trans- 
 gressions, and stru.igles of man, he shaped 
 his govermnent, laws, and penalties witli ex- 
 press reference to these emergencies, and 
 adapted the spiritual forces to the overcom- 
 ing of all evil ; that, being almighty, he can 
 convert and save a world of sinners as easily 
 as he convi'rted and saved Saul of Tarsus, 
 or Matthew the jjublican, and without any 
 more violation of free agency in one case 
 than in the other. They also believe in the 
 perfection of divine justice, and affirm, on 
 this ground, that God would- not impose on 
 finite beings a law inlinite iu its demands ^nd 
 penaltie- ; but that Ix ing perfec ly just, he 
 will deal with ail men according to their works, 
 whether good or bad. 
 
 II. They uniformly reject the doctrine of 
 the Trinitv, giving to Christ the second i)lace, 
 and making him subordinate to the Father. 
 They believe that he is gifted with spirit 
 and i>ower above all other intelligences ; that 
 he is " God manifest in the fiesh," i. e. that 
 God has displayed in him the biightness of 
 his glory, and the express image of his per- 
 son, as in no other being tabernacled in 
 flesh ; that he was sent of God to be the 
 Saviour of the world and that lie will actu- 
 ally save it, because God woidd not ofli'r, 
 nor would Christ acccjit, a missicni which 
 both knew wouhl end in failure ; therefore, 
 they say, the work of redemption will be 
 thorongii and universal. 
 
 III. They believe that man was and is cre- 
 ated upright, but liable to sin ; that trans- 
 gression comes not out of any original cor- 
 
HISTORY AND PROGRESS OP Tilt: DIKFIiliKNT UENOMINATIUNS. 
 
 555 
 
 ruplion of lieart, tniu-mittetl Irom Adam; 
 but out of iiiiiorance ami unbelief': that all 
 men are formed, as Adam was, in the moral 
 imaire i.f God ; and that this ima"ft tiiounh 
 it may be disfigured liy sm, can never be 
 wholly Lst. Faith and lepeneration remove 
 the stains and defilements of sin, and renew 
 or reform the soul in the divine lilieness. 
 
 IV. They believe the new birth to be that 
 thorough change of iieart whieh takes place 
 when a man, wrought upon b)' divine grace, 
 forsakes his sins, or turns from his foimer 
 life of wickedness and indifference, toward 
 God and the Saviour, and is drawn into fel- 
 lowship with the IIol_v Spirit, and thus quick- 
 ened into new spiritual vitality, consecrates 
 himself into a life of active goodness and 
 piety. Tlie new birth is not supernatural, 
 but the result of appointed means suitably 
 improved. The Holy Spirit blesses the use 
 of these means, and moves upon the heart of 
 the siiuier, enconr.iging, comforting, assisting, 
 sanctifying. They do not believe in instan- 
 taneous regeneration, though tljey allow that 
 there may be a turning point in the life of 
 every man when his attention is specially 
 direc;ed to religion. Conversion is only the 
 commencement of religious eflbrt. 
 
 V. Tliey teach that salvation is no., shel- 
 ter nor safety, nor escape from present or 
 future punishment, it is inward and spirit- 
 ual, and not from an_y outward evil, but de- 
 liverance from error, unbehef, sin, the tyr- 
 anny of the flesh and its hurtful lusts, info 
 the liberty and blessedness of a holy life, and 
 supreme love to God :ind man. This is an 
 important doctrinal and practical point with 
 Uuiver.-alists, and is con^tantly enforced in 
 their preaching and writings. They urge 
 on all to seek salvation, not from lite tor- 
 ments of a future hell, but from the present 
 captivity of sin. In reply to the objection 
 that millions die in sin, in pagan ignorance, 
 and unbehef, they answer that no one is 
 wholly saved in this life, but that all men are 
 saved, in a greater or less degree, after deatli, 
 and assert that the power of L'hri^t over the 
 soul docs not cease with the death of the 
 body, but that he continues the work of en- 
 lightenment and redemption, till he surrend- 
 ers the kingdom to the Father, which does 
 not tnka place till after the resurrection is 
 comj)lete. 
 
 VI. The resurrection is not merely a 
 physical, but a moral and spiritual change. 
 It is not only clothing the soul with an in- 
 corruptible body, but it is an anastasis, a 
 
 raising up, an exaltation of the whole being 
 into the power and glory of the heavenly; 
 for 'as we have borne the image of t:.e earthy 
 we shall also bear the image of the heavenly.' 
 It is a change, they say, by which we be- 
 come as the angils, and are 'children of 
 God, being (or because we are) children of 
 the resuriection.' It must therefore be 
 something more than clo'.hing the soul in a 
 spiritual body. It is, beside this, growth in 
 spiritual strength and power, in knowledge, 
 in holiness, in all the elements and fbrces of 
 the divine life, umil we reach a ))oint of per- 
 fectness and blessedness described in the 
 term heaven. This resurrection or lifting up 
 of the soul into the glorilied life of the 
 angels, is the work of the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 The end of his mediatorial reign, the com- 
 pletion of his saving work, and the final sur- 
 render of his kingdom back to God, does not 
 take place till after this anastasis, this uplift- 
 ing of all the dead and living into the 'image 
 of the heavenly,' is completed. 
 
 VII. On tin; subject of rew.ards and pun- 
 ishments, the Universarist belief is substanti- 
 ally, that holiness, p'iety, love of God and 
 man, are their own reward, make their own 
 heaven here and hereafter ; and that in the 
 nature of things no oilier reward is possible. 
 If men love God with all their heart, and 
 trust in him, they find, and are satisfied with, 
 the present heaven which love and faith 
 bring with them. They hold the same doc- 
 trine respecting puuishinents ; that it is con- 
 sequential, and not arbitrary — the natural 
 fruits of sin ; that it is for restraint, correc- 
 tion, and discipline ; and that God loves as 
 truly when ho punishes as when he blesses, 
 never inflicting jiain in anger, but only be- 
 cause he sees that it is needed, as medicine 
 is, to prevent a greater evil. They affirm 
 that the law is made for the good of man, 
 and, of course, that the penalty cannot be 
 such as to defeat the object of the law. 
 Transgression brings misery, or jnmishment, 
 which is designed to correct and restore to 
 obedience, because obedience is happiness. 
 They maintain that pain, ordained for its 
 own sake, and pcrpetua:ed to all eternity, is 
 proof of infinite malignity ; but God, they 
 say, is infinitely beneficent, and therefbre all 
 suffering must have a beneficent element in 
 it, all punishments must be temporary, and. 
 end in,good." 
 
 The Universalists are very generally be- 
 lievers in the doctrine of Restoration. They 
 do not deny tha punishment of sin beyond 
 
HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFEBENT DENOMINATION'S. 
 
 this life, but believe tli.at it will be tempo- 
 rary, uiid end iu a restoration of tlie entire 
 race to lioline.ss, happiness, anil heaven. 
 
 Tlie Universalists are paying much atten- 
 tion to tiieir educational institutions. They 
 have now five colleges, viz : Tufts College, 
 Jledford, Mass., with 1.5 professors, and 
 l)roperty valued at $80.5,UHO ; Lombard Uni 
 versity, Galesburg, 111., with G professors. 
 and property vaHied at $205,000; St. Law- 
 rence University, at Canton, N. Y., with i) 
 professors, an i property worth .about $-40,- 
 000 ; Buclitei College, Akron, Oaio, founded 
 in 1870, wi'h $G0,000 eudownient ; and 
 Smithson College, Logansport, Lid., al^o 
 founded in 1870. They have two divinity 
 schools, both well endowed, one in connec- 
 tion with Tufts College, the other with the 
 St. Lawrence Uiuversity. They have, also, 
 eight academies, or institutes of high grade, 
 most of them Lioeivdly endowed. They have 
 13 periodicals. Their statistics, in 1870, 
 were: 83 associations, 911 societies, 620 
 ministers, and a ]irobab!e membership of 
 their societies of from 9(1,00 J to 10(),00(». 
 with an adherent po]Hdalion of over 200,000. 
 They have a considerable number of Sunday 
 Schools, but do not give the statistics of 
 them. Li 1.S70-71, they raised a centenary 
 fund in commemoration of Mr. Murray's 
 work in founding Universalist societies, of 
 $200,000, to be' called the Murray Fund, 
 and to be devoted to ihe aid of theological 
 students, the distribution of Universalist lit 
 eralure, church extension, and the mission- 
 ary caiis(;. 
 
 III. TnK IIicKsrTF. OR Sf.cedino Socr- 
 ETV OF FiuENDS IN Amf.rica. are Unitari- 
 ans, in their view of the divinity of Christ. 
 (See V^IIJ, ii.) 
 
 IV. ''The Christian Connixtion," at 
 the West, have aftiliat<'d with the Unitarians 
 iind a larg3 per. ion of them aie believed to 
 iiold Unitarian views in regard to the divin- 
 ity of Christ. In the Eastern and Middle 
 States, they are generally T. initarians. (See 
 
 n, vii.) 
 
 XI. THE \E\V .ir,I!r'*.\T,EA[ CEirRCII, 
 ^E\V CUUKClI. OK SWKDENBORUI.VN. 
 
 This denomination refuse to be called a 
 sect of the Christian church, claiming to be 
 entirely distinct from any branch of the 
 Christian church and to belong to a new 
 dispensation as fully and as far removed 
 from the Christian disj)ensation as that was 
 
 from the Jewish. They insist, indeed, that 
 the Christian dispensation passed away and 
 came to an end in 1757, and that they are 
 the new dispensation, the New Jerusalem, 
 which has come down from God out of heav- 
 en to take the place. The first congregation 
 of the New Jerusalem Church was tbrnially 
 organized in London in 1788, by Robert 
 Ilindmarsh, a printer in Cierkenwell, who 
 was chosen by lot, to baptize and ordain his 
 comrades in the ministry. Few if any so- 
 cieties were organized iu the United States 
 before 1820, altliough there weie undoubt- 
 edly some believers iu fl'.e New Church doc- 
 trines at an earlier date. Their doctrines 
 are those put forth by Emanuel Sweden- 
 borg, a Swedish nobleman, statesman and 
 philosopher (1688-1772), amanof extensive 
 attainmeuts in science and of most pure and 
 exemplary life, who, after publishing many 
 .scientific and philosophical works, beiievei) 
 that he was favored with visions and reve- 
 lations from the spiritual world, and in 174.j 
 at the age of .57 relin(|uished all ollice and 
 gave himself to communion with the invisi- 
 ble world and to recording his visions and 
 the doctrines he had been therein tauglit, for 
 the benefit of those who should come af:er 
 him. No one believes Swedenborg to have 
 been an imposler. Everything in his cir- 
 cumstance- and character relutes such a sup- 
 position ; but there are many who regard 
 him as suilering under hallncinalions and as 
 being of unisound mmd. He lived to be 
 nearly 8o years of age, and in the last twen- 
 ty-seven years of his life wrote many books, 
 all on topics connected with his supposed 
 revelation. Some of these books (all writ- 
 ten origiiialy in Latin.) contain passages of 
 great beauty and interest; but the greater 
 part have a my lical character, and are not 
 specially attractive except to those who pro- 
 fess 10 comprehend them by a spiritual in- 
 sig!it. We have not the spai'c for anything 
 like a full analysis of the doctrines put forth 
 in these numerous volumes. His doctrines 
 seem to be based on a theory or science of 
 corre-pondences, which he believed himself 
 to have rediscovered after it had been lot 
 for ages. The law of correspondence is uni- 
 versal ; the natural world is a repetition of 
 the spiritual world, and the spiritual world 
 of the invisible mental worhl. Unseen evil 
 is manifested in things hurtful and ugly, un- 
 seen good in things useful and Ijcautiful. 
 Man is a microcosm, or little Avorld ; nature 
 is man in diffusion ; all things iu nature — fire, 
 
HI3T0KT a::d pnoGRi'.ss OP THE diffeuen't denominations. 
 
 557 
 
 air, earth, and water, every beast, bird, fi-li, 
 insect, and reptile, every tree, herb, fruit, and 
 flower — represent and express unseen things 
 ill the mind of man. The scriptures are 
 v/ritten according to correspondences, and 
 by aid of the Sfience their mysteries are un- 
 locked. This mystical interpretation gives 
 us to understand that tlie early chapters of 
 Genesis are iiot to be received in any his- 
 toric sense. Adam signifies the most ancient 
 church, and the flood its dissolution ; Nodi 
 an ancient church which, falling into idolatry, 
 was superseded by the Jewili. The spirit- 
 ual sense pervades the scriptures with the 
 exception of Ruth, I. and II. Chronicles, 
 Kzra, Neliem'ali, Esther, ,Iob, Proverbs, Ec- 
 clesiastes, the Song of Solomon, the Acts of 
 the Apostles, and the Epistles. These are 
 all gooJ books but not possessing tlie inter- 
 n,al or spiritual sense. They are not in- 
 spired and consequently not the Word. By 
 reason of its symbolism of the inward sense 
 the letter of scripture (with the above excep- 
 tion) is holy in every jot and tittle, and ha^ 
 been preserved in immaculate jierfection, 
 since the hour of its divine dictation. By 
 this doctrine of correspondences also the con- 
 stitution of heaven and hell is revealed. 
 There are three heavens, consisting of three 
 orders of angels, severally distinguished for 
 love, wisdom, and obedience. All angels 
 have lived on earth ; none « ere created such. 
 They are men and women in every respect, 
 the spiritual life corresponding to the natu- 
 ral ; they marry and live in societies in cities 
 anil countries just as in the world but in 
 happirie-3 and glory ineftable. To the un- 
 married will be given the honor of caring 
 for the little ones, and tiieir pe.formance of 
 this duty will crown them with glory. All 
 in wiioni lave to God and man is the ruling 
 principle, go to heaven at death. As there 
 are three heavens tiiere are three lieds, and 
 every angelic society has an infernal coun- 
 terpart. Hell, as a whole, is called the 
 Devil and Satan ; (here is no individual 
 bearing that name. All in whom self love is 
 the ruling motive go to hell. There is no 
 resurrection of the earthly liody. Eveiy 
 one passes to the final lot at death, some 
 making a short sojourn in an intermediate 
 state, designated the World of S|(irits, where 
 the good are cured of their superficial infir- 
 mities and intellectual mistakes, and where 
 the evil reject all their pretences to good. 
 The grand and distinctive principle of Swe- 
 denborgian theology is, however, the doc- 
 
 trine of life. God, it is maintained, alone 
 lives. Creation is dead. Man is dead and 
 then apparent life is the Divine presence. 
 God is eveiywhere the same. It appears 
 as if He were difterent in one man and in 
 another ; but this is a fallacy. The differ- 
 ence is in the recipients ; by one lie is not 
 received in the same degree as another. A 
 man more adequately manifests God than a 
 tree ; that is tlie only di>tiuction. The life 
 of devils is God's presenc e perverted in dis- 
 orderly forms. " All things and each of 
 them to the very uttermost, exert and sub- 
 sist instantly from God. If the connection 
 of anything with Ilim were broken for a 
 moment it would instantly vanish ; for exist- 
 ence is perpetual subsistence, and preserva- 
 tion perpetual creation." By ibis law of life 
 is explained man's self-consciousness, free- 
 dom, and personalit}-. All the.-e sensations 
 are communicated from God to man. He 
 ilwells in man so cordially, that He gives 
 him to feel that he lives of himiclf, even as 
 He lives. 
 
 The Swedenborgian doctrine of the Trinity 
 and the Divinity of Christ is thus enunciated 
 by his followers, in language derived from 
 his writings: "That Jehovah God, the 
 creator, and preserver of heaven and earth is 
 love itself, and wisdom itself, or good itself, 
 and truth itself ; that He is one both in essence 
 and in person, in whom nevertheless is the 
 divine trinity of Father, Son, and Holy 
 Spirit, which are the essential divinity, the 
 divine humanity, and the divine proceeding, 
 answering to the soul, the bod}', and the 
 operative energy in man ; and that the Lord 
 and Saviour Jesus Christ is that God. That 
 Jehovah, God Himself, descended from 
 Heaven as divine truth, which is the word, 
 and took upon him human nature, for the 
 purpose of removing from man the powers 
 of hell, and restoring to order all things in 
 the spiritual world, and all things in the 
 church, that he removed from men the pow- 
 ers of hell, by combats again^t and victories 
 over them, in which consisted the great work 
 of redemption ; that by the same acts which 
 were his temjitations, the last of which was 
 the passion of the cross, he united in his 
 humanity, divine truth to divine good, or 
 divine wisdom to divine love, and so re- 
 turned into his divinity in which he was 
 from eternity together with and in his glori- 
 fied humanity, whence he forever keeps the 
 infernal powers in subjection to himself, and 
 that all who believe in him with the under- 
 
558 
 
 niSTORY AND PROGRESS OP THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 standing from the heart and live accordingly 
 will be >aved. The New Church observes 
 tlie ordinances of baptism and the Lord's 
 supper, but gives them a mystical signifi- 
 cance. The Christian cliu: ch, as establisiied 
 by Jesm himself, came to an end, Sweden- 
 bor"- says, in the middle of tlie last century, 
 and in one of his visions he rtdates having 
 witnessi-d the last judgment effected upon it 
 in the world of spirits in 17.'i7. Theu com- 
 menced the new dispensation, signified by 
 tlie New Jerusalem in the Revelation of 
 which he was to bo the precursor and re- 
 vealer. He made no claim to be a leader 
 or divinely inspired person, but only a seer. 
 He did not himself attempt to establish a 
 church, though it was his early expectation 
 that such acliurcli would be raised up among 
 some of ihi; gentile or heathen nations. But 
 his followers have been active propagandists, 
 and though they may have believed, as he 
 did, that the Christian cliurch was dead and 
 at an end, they have to a large extent re- 
 mained in its communions, and have propa- 
 gated their views among iis members, while 
 retaining their connection with it. A por- 
 tion have, it is true, co:ne out and organized 
 separate societies or churches, but the New 
 Cliurch has been far more conspicuous for 
 intellectual ability, both among its secret ad- 
 herents and its avowed members, than for 
 members. After fifty years of really zeal- 
 ous etfort, they report only 65 ministers, 78 
 societies and at the utmost not more than 
 4,0;)0 avowed members, with an adherent 
 population of perhaps ti,00(t. They have an 
 etficient publisiiing association, with a capi- 
 tal of about Sl.i,<>00; a tract society which 
 publishes 30,000 or 40,000 tracts per year; 
 three periodicals, a weekly, a monthly, and 
 a child's paper, a theological school at Wal- 
 tliam, iSIass ; three church schools — one of 
 them liberally endowed, a missionary society, 
 and several Sunday School Unions. It has 
 also a " New Cliurch Union " with a free 
 library having heaihpiarters in Boston. 
 
 XII. MORMONS, OR CHURCH OF JESUS 
 CHRIST OF LATTER DAY SAINTS. 
 I. The Mormons under the control of 
 Brigham Young. We have neither time nor 
 space to go into the Idslurrj of this imposture, 
 the most conspicuous one of mo<leru times ; 
 nor is it needful ; for the story of the golden 
 plates, and of Solomon Spalding's manu- 
 script, of the successive efforts at organiza- 
 
 tion in JManchester, N. Y.; Kirtlund, Ohio ; 
 Jackson and Clay counties, Missouri ; Kau- 
 voo, Illinois; the impositions, threats, and 
 swindles of the Mormon leaders, thi ir expul- 
 sion from Missouri, their death at the hands 
 of a mob at Carthage, Illinois, the pilgrim- 
 age westward, the wintering in Iowa, the 
 liiial arrival in 1847 and 1848, at Salt Lake, 
 the founding of Great Salt Lake City, the 
 building of the Tabernacle, the open prac- 
 tice and boast of polj'gamy, their collisions 
 with the United States government, their 
 Danite band, their murders and outrages, 
 and their present condition, have all been 
 told so many times as to be familiar to all. 
 We will therefore only state their doctrines 
 and practices according to their own author- 
 ized manuals. They believe that there are 
 many gods and that eminent saints may in 
 ti.nie become gods, and rise one above another 
 in power and glory to infinity. Joseph 
 Smith is the God of this generation. Above 
 him in power and glory is Jesus Christ, who 
 was the offsjiring of the material union on 
 the jilains of Palestine of a God with the 
 Virgin Mary, the latter being duly married 
 after betrothal by the angel Gabriel. Ytt 
 Christ had had a previous existence and had 
 made the universe out of unformed chaotic 
 matter as old as God. The God whom they 
 describe as the father of Jesus Christ, had 
 once been a man and still retains a human 
 form, though he is so advanced in intelligence 
 and power that he may now be called, ccm- 
 jiaratively speaking, perfect, iniinife, &c. 
 The Holy Spirit they believe to be also a 
 material being and once human. Above 
 tliHse is an older trinity composed of Jehovah 
 Elohim, and Michael or Adam, the latter 
 being described as the god or superior of 
 Christ, and below, beneath, and associated 
 with these are gods many and lords many. 
 Their whole Theogony seems to be a most 
 unintelligible jumble, mingling Brahminism, 
 Buddhism, and every other form of belief. 
 The second article of their creed affirms that 
 men will be punished for their own sins and 
 not for Adam's transgressions. The tliird 
 artide states that through the atonement of 
 Christ all mankind may be saved by obedi- 
 ence to the laws and ordinances of the gos- 
 pel. The fourth defines their ordinances to 
 be : Faith in the Lord Jesus, which is ex- 
 pounded as including obedience to the ten 
 commandments, and to the Word of Wisdom 
 revealed to Joseph Smith in 1833; 2. Re- 
 pentance ; 3. Baptism, which is administered 
 
HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 559 
 
 by immersion, only to children at eight years 
 of age, and also to adults who had not been 
 previously baptized. They also ba|itize for 
 tlie dead, asserting that at the resurrection 
 all the persons fur whuni a man has been 
 liaptized will be added to his family ; 4. Im- 
 ]iosition of hands to confer the gift of the 
 Holy Spirit ; 5. The Loi-d's Supjier, admin- 
 istered to the recipients kneeling; they use 
 water instead of wine, being averse to the 
 use of the latter, and receive the sacrament 
 every week. Tlie ffth article declares that 
 men must be called to the work of God by 
 inspiration. The sixth that the same or- 
 ganization must now exist that existed in the 
 ])riiuiiive church. The seventh, that miracu- 
 lous gifts — discerning of spirit:^, prophecv, 
 revelations visions, healing, speaking with 
 tongues, &c., — have not ceased. Among 
 Smith's and Hrigham Young's speculations 
 in the way of discerning of spirits, one was 
 that the soul of man was not created but had 
 existed from all eternity, equal in duration 
 to God. Another of these revelations was 
 that of the transmigration of souls, that re- 
 bellious spirits (of men) would descend into 
 brute tabernacles, till they yielded to the 
 law of the cerlasting gospel. The eighth 
 article atfirms that the. Word of God is re- 
 corded not only in the Bible and the ]?ook 
 of Mormo 1, but in all other good books. 
 The coniradictions which exist in the Bible 
 and other books can be very easily removed 
 by revelations to any of the Mormon leaders 
 or anv other inspired prophets. Joseph 
 Smith, it is said, left an " inspired transla- 
 tion " of the whole Bildc in manuscript, but 
 none of the leaders since have thought it 
 worth their while to ])u;)lish it. The ninth 
 article expresses a belief in all that God has 
 revealed, is revealing, or will jet reveal. 
 The tenth affirms the literal gathering of 
 Israel, the restoration of the Ten Tribes 
 (whom they believe to be the American 
 Ind ans), the establ'shinent, of the New Zion 
 on the Western Continent fthey generally 
 insist that this will be in Jackson county, 
 Missouri), the miUenial reign of Christ on 
 earth, with all his holy prophets and demi- 
 gods (of whom .loseph Smith will be most 
 con-picuous), and the transformation of 
 earth into a parailise. The eleventh article 
 maintains " the literal resurrection of the 
 bjdy, — to fli-sh and bone, but not blood — 
 blood b;'ing the principle of mortalitv." The 
 twelfth article asserts the absolute liberty of 
 private judgment ia matters of religion. The 
 
 thirteenth declares it to be the duty of the 
 saints and all others to be subject to the pow- 
 ers that be, whether monarchical or ri-publi- 
 can ; and the fourteenth and last is as follows : 
 " We believe in being honest, true, chaste, 
 temperate, benevolent, virtuous, and ujiright ; 
 and in doing good to all men ; also that an 
 idle or lazy person cannot be a Christian, 
 neither have salvation." The leaders, how- 
 ever, by virtue of the revelations they receive, 
 can, at will, exempt themselves from the ob- 
 ligation of any of these rules or obligations, 
 and most of them are notoriously profane, 
 unchaste, and accessories to the grossest 
 frauds and murders, if they do not commit 
 them in person. 
 
 Their most remarkable social peculiarity 
 is the practice of polygamy. Among the 
 early revelations publi-hed by Smitli, one 
 was the strict enforcement of both monogamy 
 and chastity ; but about 1838 he became no- 
 toriousl}' licentious and as alter a time his 
 wife began to complain of his amours, he 
 had in 1843 a special revelation directing the 
 practice of polygamy not only in his own case, 
 but in that of the other saints. This was 
 denied by the leaders for some years, but in 
 18o2 they openly avowed polj'gamy as one 
 of their doctrines and referred to this reve- 
 lation as their authority. It is now very 
 generally practised in Utah ; Young himself 
 having, it is said, sixt}' or more wives. For 
 many years the Jlormon leaders have dclied 
 the United States government and have 
 ruled the teriitory of Utah according to their 
 own views, driving out and often murdering 
 United States ollicers and citizens who at- 
 tempted to enforce national laws ; but the 
 opening of the territory by the passage of 
 the Union Pacitic and other railways through 
 it, and the development of the large mining 
 inter(>sts there, have brought in so large a 
 population, who are not Mormons, that there 
 is a prospect that the laws may be enforced 
 there without serious difficulty. By the 
 laws of the United States, as well as by com- 
 mon law, polygamy is a crime, and actions 
 have recently been commenced against 
 Brigham Young, Daniel C. "Wells, and other 
 of the Mormon leaders for adultery, and for 
 being accessories to the murder of some 
 men whom they had caused to be put out of 
 the way. Young has left Salt Lake Citj', 
 and it is generally believed, has fled from 
 the territory, and some of the others have 
 given bail, while one or two have been con- 
 victed of the minor offense. 
 
560 
 
 mSTOTlY AND PnOOUESS OF THE DltFEUKNT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 '1 he ilonnons have liabitiially greatly 
 overi-ai.eil iheir numbers. They ehiiineil 
 early in 1870 a Mormon |iopuhition in Utah 
 of 110,000, while the United States census 
 of 1.S70 gave the entire population of the 
 territory as only 8G,786, of whom not less 
 than 17,000 are known not to he Jloi-mons, 
 aside from a considerable number of seced 
 ers from the authority of Young. Else- 
 where in the United States there may be 
 (including the seceding Mormons) seven or 
 eight thousand ; and in foreign countries 
 perhaps 50,000 to Gi i,000. They claim 1 00,- 
 000 on the eastern continent ; but they 
 have no such following. Their hierarchy is 
 of two kinds, the Melchizedec and the Aar- 
 ouic priesthood. To the former belong the 
 First Presidency of three, of which Young 
 is the chief; the twelve apostles, the seven- 
 ties, the patriarchs, the high priests and the 
 elders. To the Aaronic priesthood belong 
 the bi-ihops, of whom in all there are 240, 
 the ]ir'ests, teachers, and deacons. Tithes are 
 rigi lly exacted from the Mormon believers 
 t'j be applied to the support of worship, &c., 
 but no inconsiderable portion finds its wa}' 
 i.ito the capacious purse of Brigham Young, 
 who by adroit management; has become very 
 wealthy, his pro|ierty amounting to many 
 millions, and being largely invested abroad. 
 
 There have been for the past twenty-five 
 years a body of Mormons who did not go with 
 the others to Utah, who did not recignize 
 Brigham Young as tlie"ir chief, nor practice 
 ])olygamy. They have had a colony and set- 
 tlement for some years in northwestern Iowa, 
 on the borders of Dakota, and have had as 
 their spiritual chiefs, Emma Smith, the widow 
 of Joseph Smith, and of late years Joseph 
 Smith, Jr. They have about 5,000 ad- 
 herents, and tiie Slormons of Utah are very 
 hostile to them. Of late Joseph .Smith, Jr. 
 has visited Utah, and a considerable numlier 
 of IMormons who were disaffected toward 
 Yoiuig, have recognized him as their leader. 
 Others of the disaffected, who repudiate 
 Young's authority and teachings though not 
 y<'t willing to abandon polygamy, have fol- 
 lowed a man named Godbe, and are known 
 as Godbeitcs. Both these seceding organi- 
 zations are bitterly denounced by Young and 
 the Mormon hierarchy. 
 
 XIII. ISR.VKLITES OR JEWS. 
 
 I. The OitrnoDox Iskaelites, or Jews. 
 This is no place for a history of the ancient 
 
 people of God in all their dispersions, wan- 
 derings, and persecu;ions ; we can only give 
 very briefly, their history as a religious de- 
 nomination in the United States. The first 
 Jews who emigrated to North America, it is 
 believed, came to the then Dutch colony of 
 New Amsterdam, in Hi GO. Although, from 
 the first, they have always enjoyed comj)lete 
 religious liberty here, and have often been 
 called to positions of high honor in society 
 and under our government, yet the number 
 of Jewish emigrants to the United States 
 was, for a hundred and fifty years from their 
 - rst coming, very small, and in 1820 they 
 certainly did not exceed 15,000 in our entire 
 territory. Since that time they have come 
 in somewhat larger numbers, attracted by 
 the opportunities ofTered them for succesful 
 trade and financial operations. After the 
 revolutions of 1848, on the continent of Eu- 
 rope, many of those, who had participated in 
 those uprisings, came here and have since 
 been some of our most valued citizens. It 
 is difficult to ascertain definitely how many 
 are now residents in the United States ; the 
 Board of Delegate-i of American Israelites, 
 in 1868 reported 200 congregations in the 
 countrj^ If these averaged li)0 male mem- 
 bers (;i large estimate), the adherent popu- 
 lation could not much have exceeded 40,0f)0; 
 but there are besides these, the Re- 
 formed Jews, a considerable number who 
 have embraced Christianity, and many who 
 in this country do not conneit themselves 
 with anj' religious organization. We are 
 inclined to believe that 75,000 is a large es- 
 timate of the actual Jewish population of 
 the United States, though it has been reck- 
 oned as high as 200,000. They have wor- 
 ship in their synagogues on the Jewish Sab- 
 bath (Saturday), with reading .and expound- 
 ing of tlie law, chanting of psalms, etc. The 
 reading is usually in Hebrew or Aramaic, 
 although many Jews do not understand the 
 Hebrew well, but the explanations and dis- 
 courses are m English, or in the vernacular 
 of the country from which they have come. 
 Many of their rabbis are men of extensive 
 learning, and specially versed in Oriental and 
 linguistic science. It is, of course, under- 
 stood that the Jew does not recognize Christ 
 in any religious sense, and is a Deist, rather 
 th.an a Socinian or Unitarian. The follow- 
 ing abstract of their doctrinal creed, com- 
 piled from the Thirteen Articles of iNIaimon- 
 ides exhibits, briefly, their views on religio!;s 
 subjects: "1. They believe that God is the 
 
HISTORY AND PUOGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 561 
 
 Creator and Governor of all creatures, and 
 that he alone has made, does make, and will 
 make all things. 2. They believe that He 
 is only one, in unity to which there is no 
 resemblance, and that he alone has been, is, 
 and will be their God. 3. They believe that 
 the Creator is not corporeal, not to be com- 
 prehended by an understanding capable of 
 comprehending only what is corporeal ; and 
 that there is nothing like him in the universe 
 4. They believe that He is the First and 
 the Last. 5. They believe that He is the 
 onl}' object of adoration, and that no other 
 being whatever, ought to be worshiped. 6. 
 Tliey believe that all the words of the proph- 
 ets are true. 7. They believe that all the 
 prophecies of Moses, their master, are true, 
 and that he was the father of all the wise men, 
 as well of those who went before him, as of 
 those who succeeded him. 8. They believe 
 that the whole law which they have in their 
 hand at this day, was delivered by Moses. 
 9. They believe that this law will never be 
 changed, and that no other law will ever be 
 given by the Creator. 10. They believe that 
 God knows all the actions of men, and all their 
 thouglits ; as it is said : ' He fashioneth all 
 the hearts of men, and understandeth all 
 their works.' 11. They believe that God 
 rewards those who observe his commands, 
 and punishes those who transgress them. 
 1 2. They believe that the IMessiah will come, 
 and, though he delays, they will always ex- 
 pect him till He comes. 13. They believe 
 that the dead will be restored to life when it 
 shall be ordained by the decree of the Crea- 
 tor. 
 
 The Jews have not been very active in 
 educational matters, but have several free 
 schools of high grade, and, at Philadelphia, 
 jNlaimonides College, founded in 1867, which 
 though having a full course, and able in- 
 structors, is not well endowed. In matters 
 of public charity, the founding of hospitals, 
 asylums for orphans, the aged, and the wid- 
 ow, and the establishment of public libraries, 
 and museums of art, they deserve very high 
 praise. These institutions, and their gifts to 
 them have not, in any case, been confined to 
 their own people, but have been opened 
 freely to all, and some of their liberal givers 
 have won for themselves undying feme by 
 their large handed charity. It is worthy of 
 note that they provide always for their own 
 poor. They "have three or four well con- 
 ducted periodicals. 
 
 11. The Reformed or Progressive 
 34* 
 
 Israelites. This organization, which has a 
 Rabbinical Conference, which meets annually, 
 and has synagogues in the principal cities, 
 while not disposed to relinquish their Jewish 
 birthright and privileges, yet deem some 
 changes necessitated, by the progress of the 
 world, in their ancient faith. They do not 
 look for the coming of a temporal Messiah, 
 or a return to Palestine ; they believe in 
 having their exercises in the synagogues 
 in the vernacular. They hold to the immor- 
 tality of the soul, but not to the resurrection 
 of the body ; to God's grace and justice to 
 ])ardon and bless the being created in his 
 image, and not to expiatory rites and sacri- 
 fices. We have no means of estimating their 
 numbers. 
 
 Eftbrts have been made, and with consid- 
 erable success, by several of the Protestant 
 denominations for the conversion of the 
 .Jews to Christianity. There are several 
 congregations of these converted Israelites, 
 and a still larger number who have connect- 
 ed themselves, as individu.als, with other 
 Christian churches. A considerable number 
 of Jews said to be mainly from Germany, 
 Poland, and Portugal, have, on coming to 
 the United States, abandoned all religious 
 worship and faith, and given themselves up 
 wholly to the worship of mammon. 
 
 XIV. SPIRITUALISTS. 
 
 "We can hardly call the Spiritualists a 
 religious denomination, since its professed 
 adherents belong to almost all denomina- 
 tions, and many of them to none, and their 
 single bond of union is in their belief that 
 somehow, and in some way, they hold inter- 
 course with the spirits of the departed. That 
 this belief is a delusion seems to be demon- 
 strated by the most incontestable evidence ; 
 yet very many cling to it with the utmost 
 tenacity. The Spiritualists, and especially 
 the so-called " spiritual mediums," may be 
 divided into several classes. Among these 
 are: 1. Charlatans and impostors, who de- 
 liberately profess to hold communication with 
 the spirit world, knowing that they are guilty 
 of a gross and fraudulent deception, but doing 
 so for the sake of gain. This class is nu- 
 merous ; to it belong most of the fortune- 
 tellers and necromancers, the greater part 
 (perhaps we should say all) of the healing 
 mediums, clairvoyant doctors, and the like, 
 the exhibiting niediunis, rappers, table-tip- 
 pers, &c., &c. 2. The self-deluded, who, 
 
562 
 
 HISTORT AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DKNOMINATIONS. 
 
 possessing a certain amount of magnetic, 
 odyllic or reflex-nervous power, really sup- 
 pose themselves to be in communication with 
 the spirits, when they are only reproducing 
 their own thoughts and conjectures or those 
 of persons about them and with whom tliey 
 are en rapport. 3. Genuine clairvoyants, 
 very few in number, but really endowed 
 with a greater or less degree of the clairvoy- 
 ant or seer faculty, but mistaken in imputing 
 tiieir visions to a dift'erent source from that 
 from which they really come. The supposed 
 conversations held by these persons with an- 
 gelic intelligence, or the spirits of the depart- 
 ed who were eminent for intellectual or moral 
 power in this life, all give evidence, which 
 whoso runs may read, that they are "of the 
 earth, earthy." Not one of these messages 
 professedly from the spiritworld, however 
 exalted in intellect in this life were the per- 
 sons from whom they purjiort to have come, 
 has ever risen above the dead level of bald 
 common place, and could the persons to 
 whom they were attributed have come back 
 to earth and read them, they would have re- 
 pudiated them most indignantly. Much the 
 same may be said of the professed revela- 
 tions of the spiritual world by these professed 
 seers. We have read many of them and 
 have found them invariably sensuous in their 
 descriptions, and giving ample evidence of 
 having been borrowed without being im- 
 proved from the Koran, the oriental fables, 
 or the word painting of Moore, Byron, 
 Southey, IJeckford, or Johnson, and some- 
 times, perhajis, from the hallucinations of 
 P>nianuel Swedenborg. Too much of the 
 flesh clings to the seer to make these visions 
 in any respect representative of that glorious 
 spiritual state which the natural eye hath 
 not seen, nor can see ; of those experiences, 
 which are only discerned by the spiritual 
 man when unrobed from the garments of 
 flesh, and made pure even .as God is pure. 
 
 Still this great delusion has its thousands 
 of votaries. Beginning in this countiy about 
 1843 with some manifestations of power as 
 a healing medium on the part of a lad of 
 seventeen, named Andrew Jackson Davis, 
 at Poughkeepsie ; they were graiiually de- 
 veloped into a high degree of clairvoyance 
 on his part, which resulted in his dictating 
 from 1846 to the present time numerous 
 ■fcooks professing to give revelations of the 
 'condition of the various spheres which he al- 
 teged envelope our earth, and communica- 
 'uons with the spirits which inhabia-d them ; 
 
 descriptions of the climate, scenery and peo- 
 ple of the various planetary bod es of the 
 solar system, and eventually a Uieological 
 system, with its pantheon of heroes and demi- 
 gods which he professed to have received 
 from the highest spiritual intelligences. That 
 some portions of this system were rather the 
 results of earthly study, than of heavenly in- 
 spiration, was evident to those who knew 
 Mr. Davis's habits of study and preparation 
 for his books. These numerous volumes 
 have, however, had a very considerable sale, 
 and though it would be difficult to say how 
 many Spiritualists believed them either 
 wholly or in part, yet they have unquestion- 
 ably exerted considerable influence in form- 
 ing the Spiritualist theology. Many Spirit- 
 ualists repudiate them, wholly ; others go far 
 beyond them, to a gross and blasphemous infi- 
 delity. While Mr. Davis was begiiming to 
 dictate his revelations, another development of 
 the Spiritualist mania appeared in Rochester, 
 where a Mrs. Fox and her two young daugh- 
 ter's first made spirit-rapping piofitable. 
 This and table-tipping and table dancing 
 soon became popular and lucrative exercises, 
 and presently it was found that the s])irits 
 could spell (not always correctly) by the aid 
 of an alphabet card. As time passed, their 
 education improved till by the hand of a 
 medium (their unconscious instrument, it 
 was said) they wrote all manner of plati- 
 tudes in prose and rhyme, though quite as 
 often without sense as with it. Still lati r, 
 they practised a species of phonographic 
 writing which expedited matters for them, 
 though not always for the unhappy mediums, 
 who found great difficulty in puttiig it into 
 readable English. Gymnastic and leger- 
 demain feats followed, and though most of 
 these were exposed, yet they made tl eir im- 
 pression on the minds of the gaping multi- 
 tude. An adventurer named 1). D. Home 
 or Hume was the most adroit performer of 
 these alleged Spiritualistic feats in Europe, 
 and succeeded in deceiving many eminent 
 though unphilosophic minds. The delusion 
 reached its culminating point in 1858 or 
 1859. .-.Ill 'iiis .^... that time been gradually 
 wani] g. Doth the Shakers and the followers 
 of Swedenborg had at one time great expec- 
 tations from it, of large iucreaSi; to tlieir 
 nurabi is; but both have bein greatly di-ap- 
 pointtil. ^^ely many who were once de- 
 luded by' it have long since abandoned it and 
 row winder that 'ley could have been so 
 grievo- ly deceived; others not fairly <eou- 
 
HISTOKV AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 563 
 
 viaceJ of ihe dclu ioa still entertain doubts, 
 anJ w.U eventually shake it off; while of 
 tho-e whj holJ tirmly to it still, some have 
 b^cim; insane, somj profess to derive com- 
 fort fio.n their commiinicaiion in hours of 
 sorroNV with the d 'ar departed, and others 
 have plunged into the abyss of infidelity or 
 are on the hig!i road thither. 
 
 T.ie Spiritualists in 1.-558 and 1859 made 
 the rajst extravagant statements in regard 
 to tlieir numbers ; statements which must at 
 that tira3 have been conspicuously inexact, 
 and are now too absurd fjr any one to be- 
 lieve. In the '• Spiritual Register" for 1859 
 it is state 1 that the number of actual Spirit- 
 ualists in America is 1,500,000; of those 
 who have more or less faith in the doctrine, 
 but do not openly espouse it, 4,000,000 ; pub- 
 lic advoeates 1,000 ; mediums, public and 
 private, 40,000; places for public meeting-!, 
 1,000 ; boo'is and pamphlets, 500 ; periodi- 
 cals, 30. If mMt of these figures had been 
 divided by ten the quotients would have been 
 nearer the truth at that time. At present, 
 the niimb.-r of periodicals (of which only 
 two or three have a large circulation) is ten, 
 the number of public advocales of Spiritual- 
 ism n:)t over 5;), and the meetings mentioned 
 about the same or possibly 75. The number 
 of mediums of all sorts, we could not under- 
 take to estimate ; there must be several 
 thousands ; though some have unfortunately 
 been sent to State Prison recently, and 
 some others, who have been using their art, 
 to aid them in their nefarious business as 
 procuresses ought to be. It would be diffi- 
 cult to find 150,000 persons who would avow 
 themselvi's, to-day. Spiritualists ; and equally 
 diffieult to find 200,000 more who would 
 acknowledge any leanings in that direction. 
 The number of books and pamphlets pub- 
 lished pro and con may reach 500, indeed, 
 considering the great number issued by Mr. 
 A. J. Davis and Mr. S. B. Brittan, we think 
 they probably will ; but the sale of Mr. 
 Davis's books, the most popular of all this 
 class of literature, has not averaged over 
 20,000 copies of each. 
 
 XV. jfRKE THINKERS, OR ATHEISTS, 
 DEISTS, RATIONALISTS, &o. 
 
 The various forms of unbelief cannot 
 fairly be called religious since they are rather 
 the negative of all religion ; nor can they 
 be classified or numbered, since they are 
 found under so many different names and 
 
 forms and commingled with so many other 
 doctrines and notions ; yet it is true that 
 they include many thousands mostly from 
 three classes: 1. Speculative philosophers, 
 whose learning is rather superficial than 
 profound, and who from the desire to throw 
 off control, which is natural to the depraved 
 heart, seek to find arguments against the 
 authenticity and inspiration of the scriptures, 
 against a ruling and controlling Providence, 
 and against any plan of salvation which 
 admits tiie depravity of human nature. They 
 draw their arguments from any and every 
 source which they deem available ; at one 
 time they deride mira.les as inconsistent 
 with reason ; at another they parade geolo- 
 gical discoveries as proving the falsity of the 
 Sacred Record ; then they are very sure 
 that they have discovered that man has lived 
 upon the earth 800,000 or a million of yeais, 
 and that he was developed from a monad or 
 a monkey ; if driven from these positions, 
 they find fault with the numbers of the Bible, 
 its genealogical records, its narratives of 
 events ; the slightest apparent discrepancy 
 is magnified, and they either conclude the 
 sacred book a tissue of fables, a book of rid- 
 dles, metaphors, and conundrums, or a series 
 of myths. Rout them from one class of ar- 
 guments, and they fiy to another, often in 
 exact contradiction of what they had previ- 
 ously maintained ; and in default of any 
 ground of argument they will fall to abusing 
 and cursing the life, ministry, and work of 
 the Divine Redeemer, using the coarsest ri- 
 baldry,though previously given to only dainty 
 phrases ; thus demonstrating that it is the 
 enmity of the heart against God which is at 
 the bottom of all their unbelief. 2. A larger 
 class than the preceding is composed of 
 working men, mechanics, who in a crude and 
 rough way do a good deal of thinking, but 
 being soured by the neglect of their intel- 
 lectual tastes and abilities, which thoy believe 
 the educated class manifest, and having the 
 idea that they are displaying a great deal of 
 intellectual independence by avowing them- 
 selves free thinkers, plunge boldly into the 
 discussion of questions which they are dis- 
 qualified, for the want of both early training 
 and positive knowledge, from handling. 
 Without being conscious of it they are mere- 
 ly the echoes and mouth pieces of abler but 
 worse men, uttering the falsehood, which 
 their leaders know to be such, but which 
 these poor men believe merely on their as- 
 sertion. With them, too, the desire that 
 
564 
 
 HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 these views may be true, tliat they may be 
 thereby freed from responsibility and the 
 goadings of conscience, has much to do wiih 
 their earnestness in endeavoring to believe 
 them. 3. AnotRer and still larger class of 
 unbelievers, we can hardly call them free 
 thinkers, for they do very little thinking of 
 any sort, are the men and women utterly 
 brutalized by a vicious life, who are witliout 
 hope and without God in the world, and 
 who stolidly conclude that no other life, if 
 there is another, can be worse than the 
 present ; and that somehow they will be 
 better off after death, since, as they express 
 it, they have had no show or chance here. 
 These need almost a new creation to bring 
 tliem up to the plane of morally accounta- 
 ble beings. They constitute the dangerous 
 classes of our large cities, the material of 
 mobs, the gangs of thieves, dead rabbits, 
 shoulder hitters, prize fighters, burglars, and 
 if women, the shop lifters, prostitutes, and 
 degraded women of the slums and back 
 alleys of the great cities. We might name 
 as recruits in this army of unbelief, those 
 who under the influence of the worst phases 
 of spiritualism have lost all faith in humanity, 
 and those in higher circles of society who 
 departing from their early training in sound 
 doctrine have wandered and fioundered 
 through the mazes of German rationalism, 
 transcendentalism, and at last merged in 
 Pantheism or utter unbelief. 
 
 A very considcraljle portion of the edu- 
 cated German emigrants, and the English 
 workingmen who migrate to this country 
 are Freethinkers or infidels, and in many of 
 our large cities as well as in the newer 
 towns and settletnents at the West they have 
 organized Infidel or Liberal clubs, and seek 
 to bring others into their way of thinking. 
 They have united and brought out their lull 
 strength on several occasions in the effort to 
 have all Sabbalh laws abrogated in several 
 of the AVestern cities. In some of the new 
 .settlements of the West they have been so 
 largely in the majority that they have pro- 
 hibited all effort for religious worship or 
 Sal)bath observance. Their periodicals 
 yary in character according to the class 
 whom they address. Some are decorous in 
 tone but aim at subverting Christianity by 
 appeals to reason and philosophy ; others 
 are ribald and blasphemous, and denounce 
 ince-^santly all Christian organizations, and 
 Christian men. Those conducted by foreign- 
 ers and in German or French, are generally 
 
 revolutionary in their character, and have 
 much to say of priestcraft and restrictions 
 upon the rights of the people. There are 
 in all fifteen or twenty of these papers, but 
 they give no indications of the number of 
 the Freethinking class, since many of them 
 do not read anything. There are no means 
 of estimating with any apjiroximation to ac- 
 curacy their actual numbers. Men who 
 have made rdigious statistics a study, and 
 with equal opportunities of observations 
 differ as widely as between 250,000 and 
 1 ,000,000 ; and the larger number is quite as 
 likely to be correct as the smaller. 
 
 There are a number of small and minor 
 sects which did not properly come under the 
 classification we have adopted. With a 
 brief notice of them we close this sketch 
 of Religious Denominations in the 
 UNiTed States. 
 
 I. Adventists, a recent sect of Millina- 
 rians, owing its origin to William Miller of 
 Vermont, from whom they are often called 
 Millerites. He commenced his public teach- 
 ings in 1833 and jiredicted the second ad- 
 vent of Christ in 1843. Among his 
 disciples was one Joshua V. Ilimes who had 
 been a Campbellite preacher and who sur- 
 passed Miller in earnestness and energy. 
 After the failure of their first prediction in 
 1843, others were made but the adherents 
 of the sect fell off. llimes however con- 
 tinued to advocate his doctrine in the 
 Advent Herald and from the pulpit, and suc- 
 ceded in drawing around him a considera- 
 ble number of followers, of whom, since 
 Miller's death, he has been the leader and 
 apostle. lie is said to be inclined to 
 Unitarian views in regard to the divinity of 
 Christ, and with most of his followers to 
 hold that the wicked will be annihilated at 
 the second coming of Christ. There are no 
 definite statistics of the numbers of the Ad- 
 ventists, but they are estimated at about 
 20,000. Their other views are generally 
 those of the Evangelical churches, though 
 inclining somewhat to Metliodism ; but they 
 have no regular creed or form of discipline. 
 II. Anniiiii.ationists. The doctrine of 
 the Annihilation of the Wicked is not con- 
 fined to Adventists. Nearly forty years 
 ago it was defended by Rev. Henry Grew, 
 and since that time Dr. McCulloh of Baltic 
 more, George Storrs (an Adventist) and 
 Rev. C. F. Hudson have published works 
 advocating the doctrine. They have not a 
 
HISTORI AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 565 
 
 large following aside from the Adventists, 
 and most, of those who believe in the 
 doctrine remain members of Evangelical 
 churches. 
 
 III. Catholic Apostolic Church or 
 Irving ITES, a small denomiuaticwi which 
 originated with tlie teachings of Rev. Ed- 
 ward Irving in London about 1830, but 
 afterwards considerably modilicd through 
 the influence of Mr. Henry Drunimond, a 
 member of Mr. Irving's congregation. They 
 hold to the present existence in the Chris- 
 tian Church of the Charisms or gifts men- 
 tioned by Paul in Cor. xii. 27-31, Eph. iv. 
 1 1-13, 1 Thess. v. 19, 20, viz. healing, speak- 
 ing with tongue=, prophesying, &c. In 
 their other doctrines they agree generally 
 with the Evangelical churches though they 
 make confirmation or sealing by the laying 
 on of hands of the apostles a third sacrament 
 or ordinance. In organization and polity, 
 however, they differ from most of the 
 churches in having four orders of the min- 
 istry, apostle-, prophets, evangelists, and 
 angels or chief pastors, and under the latter, 
 a fourfold ser\ice of elders and deacons, to- 
 gether with under deacons and deaconesses. 
 The deacons, under deacons, and deacon- 
 esses are ordained by the angel or chief pas- 
 tor, all the superior ministers or servants by 
 the apostles who are not themselves ordained 
 but called of the Holy Spirit to their work. 
 In their worship they use incense-lights on 
 the altar, the ftdl catalogue of priestly vest- 
 ments, and a very imposing and impressive 
 ritual. They celebrate the Eucharist, every 
 Lord's day, as well as on other occasions, 
 and receive tithes during the service. They 
 also have auricular confession of sin with 
 absolutions and prayers in fourfold form. 
 At their meetings for extemporaneous pray- 
 er and confession they encourage the speak- 
 ing with tongues and prophesying. The 
 number of congregations of the Catholic 
 Apostolic Church in the United States is 
 small, not more than eight or ten in all. 
 
 IV. Brethren or Plysiouth Breth- 
 ren, a denomination which originated about 
 1830 under the leader.-hip of Rev. John 
 Darby, an English barrister of high social 
 position, who became a clergyman of the 
 Church of England and devoted himself to 
 missionary labors in Ireland for several 
 years, but being conscientiously opposed to 
 the doctrine of Apostolical Succession he 
 left that church and proceeded to found one 
 which recognized no distinctive ministry 
 
 and no formal organization. Mr. Darby 
 was a Millenarian and thought it the duty 
 of all true Christians to gather in small 
 bands and pray, labor, and wait for the 
 speedy second coming of Christ. The Ply- 
 mouth Brethren recognize no other tit-le 
 except that of Brethren or Christians ; they 
 are Calvinistic (thoroughly so) in doctrinal 
 belief; but believe that all the Lord's chil- 
 dren are priests and kings in his service and 
 that any one of them who feels that he is 
 called to the work lias a right to preach or 
 to administer ordinances. They permit no 
 licensure or ordination, and all preaching 
 is voluntary and without salary or compen- 
 sation. They baptize adults on a profession 
 of faith (usually immersing them) though 
 they do not consider this indispensable to 
 membership. They do not allow infant 
 baptism. They exclude persons from par- 
 ticipating in the Lord's Supper, who have 
 been guilty of gross sins. 'Ihe Lord's Sup- 
 per is celebrated every Sabbath morning. 
 In the afternoon or evening of the Lord's 
 day they preach to and pray for such as are 
 not converted. They believe in the efficacy 
 ofprayer for special blessings temporal as 
 well as spiritual, and one of the Brethren, 
 George Miiller has maintained an extensive 
 Orphan Asylum and large missionary enter- 
 prises at Bristol for many years, solely by 
 praying for the needed funds, which as they 
 came in were most judiciously exjiended. 
 The denomination has had a rapid growth 
 in England and on the continent, and num- 
 bers many eminent men among its adher- 
 ents. In this country they have a consider- 
 able number of congregations, but are very 
 reticent concerning their increase and 
 growth. 
 
 V. Sandemanians or Glassites. This 
 denomination, which a hundred years ago 
 was quite numerous is now nearly extinct. 
 It derives its name from Rev. Robert San- 
 deman, who was not, however, its real found- 
 er, his father-in-law. Rev. John Glass of 
 Dundee, having originated the sect. Mr. 
 Sandeman, after preaching their doctrines for 
 twenty years or more in Scotland, emi- 
 grated to the United States in 1764, and 
 settled at Danbury, Connecticut, where he 
 died in 1771, having established several 
 Sandemanian churches in Connecticut and 
 Massachusetts. Their distinguishing doc- 
 trines are : That faith is a simple intellect- 
 ual assent to the teachings and divinity of 
 Christ ; that all mystical or double inter- 
 
506 
 
 HISTORY AND PUOGKESS OF THE DIFFERKNT DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 pretation of the scriptures is to be rejected ; 
 that none of their members must take part 
 in any games of cl'.ance ; that they are to 
 abstain strictly from all blootl and " things 
 strangled ;" that all collegiate training for 
 the ministry is wrong ; that no prayers 
 should be made at funerals ; that weekly 
 love feasts in which all the members of the 
 Church should dine together should be ob- 
 served every Sabbath day ; and the kiss of 
 brotherhood should pass between all their 
 members, male and female, at their solemn 
 meetings ; and that a plurality of elders is 
 necessary in the church, two at least being 
 required for all acts of discipline and the 
 administration of ordinances and ritual. 
 The ordinance of feet-washing originally 
 practised by the sect has been discontinued. 
 There are not more than two or three con- 
 gregations of Sandemanians now existing 
 in the United States. 
 
 VI. Church of the Mf.ssiah, a sect 
 founded in Maine in 1803 by a person named 
 Adams, who had previously been a Mormon 
 elder. He claimed to have visions and spe- 
 cial inspirations. Among the points of the 
 new faith was, that its members were of the 
 tribe of Ephraim and that the time had 
 come for them to return to the land of their 
 fathers, where the Messiah was to set up the 
 throne of David. In 1800, 150 of the mem- 
 bers of the sect sailed from Maine for Pal- 
 estine under the leadership of Adams and 
 landed at Jaffa, where through the efforts of 
 the American Vice-Consul, land had been 
 procured for them and where they erected 
 houses and a hotel. Dissatisfaction soon 
 occurred. Adams was accused of misman- 
 agement, and through the kind oflices of 
 the United States government a considera- 
 ble number returned in 1867, and the re- 
 mainder in 1868. The sect is probably 
 extinct. 
 
 VII. Perfectionists. I. Free Lov- 
 ers, Bible Communists or Perfection- 
 ists, a small American sect founded about 
 1840 by John H Noyes, in Putney. Ver- 
 mont, but removed subsequently to Oneida, 
 New York, where it is now known as the 
 Oneida Community. Branches of it are 
 also established under the same regulations 
 at Wallingford and Brooklyn, Connecticut. 
 This organization is a singular medley of 
 Biblical doctrine and unholy practice. They 
 profess to believe that a reconciliation to 
 God is necessary for salvation, that this is 
 accomplished through faith which is simj)ly 
 
 an intellectual belief, and that confessing 
 this belief the man's sins are immediately 
 washed away, and thenceforth he is above 
 and beyond all law, being a law unto himself; 
 though in practice he surrenders a portion of 
 til is liberty to the family or Community in 
 which he lives. The}' hold to a community of 
 goods, community of women, or as they term 
 it, a complex marriage ; no legal marriage 
 being considered binding and the parties to 
 it in the community being at liberty to make 
 new selections at will, their liberty, however, 
 being somewhat abridged by the necessity 
 of m;dving their proposals through a third 
 party and their being subject to the approv- 
 al of the family and in accordance with 
 what they pronounce physiological laws. 
 The Community or Communities now num- 
 ber in all about 000 members, that at 
 Oneida having 300. They have prospered 
 financially, having attained large wealth by 
 their mamifactures and .agricultural produc- 
 tions. They are saiil to be harmonious and 
 contented. The men dress like the citizens 
 of the adjacent towns, but the women have 
 adopted a sort of Bloomer costume and 
 wear their hair short. The influence of 
 these Communities can only be evil on the 
 society around them. There are several 
 other communities in various parts of the 
 United States, practising a community of 
 jOods but not of wives. We have already 
 described the Shaker Communities, which 
 have all prospered ; but there are others 
 which do not find a new theology neces- 
 sary to their success, such as the German 
 Socialist Village of Economy, Pennsylvania, 
 the Seventh Day German Baptist C'ornmu- 
 nity at ILphrata, Pennsjdvania ; the more 
 recently organized one, near Broctim in 
 Western New York, which from the past 
 history of Rev. T. L. Harris, one of its 
 founders, we suppose to be .Spiritualistic, 
 and one in Iowa, which admits only male 
 members. 
 
 II. Another and more numerous sect of 
 Perfectionists, though, perhaps, we should 
 hardly call them a sect since they have very 
 generally retained their connection with the 
 denominations to which they had previously 
 belonged, are those persons, who in con- 
 nection with Methodist, Congregationalist, 
 Baptist, and Adventist Churches, hold to 
 the doctrine that it is not only possible 
 to attain, but that they have actually 
 attained to a condition of sinless perfection, 
 complete freedom not only from sinful acts 
 
Q 
 
 
 g 
 
 
 id 
 
 a.1 
 
CHURCH ARCHITECTURE, PAST AND PRESENT. 
 
 5G7 
 
 and deeds but from all sinful thoughts or 
 ■^ords and from uny ])romptings to sin. This 
 dueti-ine, sometimes called the doctrine of 
 Perfect Holiness, sometimes Oberlinism. 
 since it was strongly advocated at Oberlin, 
 Ohio, has a considerable following ; and 
 under the names of " I'he Higher Christian 
 I>ife," or " Complete Sanctitication," has 
 been largely preached and written about 
 within a few yeiirs past. We cannot say 
 that in our experience, those who professed 
 it have generally given evidence of greater 
 purity or real holiness than others who 
 made no such exalted profession ; but while 
 conformity to the Divine model is a thing to 
 be sought after and labored for, we do not 
 believe it is often attained in this life. 
 
 With our notice of these believers in Per- 
 fection we close our sketch of Religious De- 
 nominations in America. We may have 
 omitted some small sects, but if so, it has not 
 been for want of careful search for them. 
 AVe have not deemed it necessary to say 
 anything of Mohammedans, Buddhists, or 
 
 Sintauists, though we believe there are two 
 or three congregations of each in California, 
 and perhaps one or two in New York. The 
 Ilusso-Greek Church has a chapel in New 
 York City, one in San Francisco, and one 
 or two in Alaska, but its adherents are 
 probably less than 500 in all. The religious 
 rites and ceremonies of the Indian tribes of 
 the West, vary too much to be described 
 within our limits. The Pueblo Indians of 
 New Mexico, and the small remains of the 
 Toltec tribes still found in New Mexico and 
 Arizona, yet maintain some forms of that 
 Sun and Fire Worship which so clearly 
 fixes their origin in the plains of Mesopo- 
 tamia. In some sections of the South, the 
 Negroes, and especially those who were na- 
 tives of Western Africa, stOl maintain in 
 secret the Fetich or 0-be-ah Worship. In 
 considering the nearly one hundred and fifty 
 denominations here enumerated with their 
 widely varying creeds, we find it as true 
 now as in olden times, that " God made man 
 upright, but he sought out many inventions." 
 
 CHURCH ARCHITECTURE, PAST AND PRESENT, IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 In connection with the preceding history 
 of religious denominations in the United 
 States, it seems appropriate that we should 
 touch briefly on the edifices devoted to reli- 
 gious worship. During the Colonial period, 
 and indeed till about fSJO, the church edi- 
 fices making any pretension to architectu- 
 ral beauty, were very few. One or two in 
 Pxiston, two or three in New Y'ork, per- 
 haps two in Pliiladelphia, one or two 
 beside the Roman Catholic cathedral in 
 Baltimore, one in Charleston, and one in 
 Providence were so far beyond the ordinary 
 churches in style and ornamentation that 
 they were regarded as marvels. In the 
 ciiuiitry, especially in the newer settlements, 
 the church edifice, like the rude dwellings, 
 was of logs, and the seats of hewed slabs, 
 thrust between the logs at one end and sus- 
 tained at the other by a block or some rough 
 wooden legs. The pulpit was a section of 
 the butt of a tree dug out and sometimes 
 had a hewn slab pinned on it with wooden 
 pins. The floor was oftenest of hard beaten 
 
 earth, but sometimes of split planks; the 
 roof of bark or thatch and in rare cases of 
 half-hewn logs with clay cement for the 
 chinks. Glass in the windows was a rarity ; 
 oftener they were mere wooden shutters, ad- 
 mitting the light when thrown open but ad- 
 mitting, in their season, the wintry breezes 
 also. There were no means of warming the 
 house of God even when it was of better 
 architecture than this, for two reasons: one 
 that at this period stoves and furnaces 
 were not in existence on this side of the 
 Atlantic ; the other that it was incom- 
 patible with the ideas of the fathers, that 
 people should be allowed to take comfort 
 in the house of Gtod, except in the 
 preaching of the Word. Was not the 
 promise made on this very condition "K 
 thou refrain thy foot from the Sabbath, from 
 doing thine own pleasure on my holy day," 
 &c., and did not that evidently mean that 
 people should not go to a good comfortable 
 church, nicely warmed and ventilated lest it 
 should be a doing of their own pleasure? 
 
J'\rst Church m ConnecciciU. 
 
 Ancient Dutch Church in Albany. 
 
 Ancient Swedes' Church, Philadelphia. 
 
 It is impossible to give anything like a general variety in modern styles of church 
 edifices in our illustrations, they are so numerous ; but the specimens of the old and new 
 we here introduce, will give a good general idea of the improvements which have been 
 made. 
 
SOUTH CHURCH, NEW BKITAIN, CONX. 
 
 [^CuityiCjUtiunal.) 
 
570 
 
 CnrUCH AECHITECTCRE, PAST AND PKESEyT. 
 
 Thev might get asleep if they were so com- 
 fortable. In the older settlements, the log 
 cabin churches and school houses had given 
 place to hu2e barn-like structures, lofty and 
 bare and cold, with great square pews as 
 lariie as the bed chambers of a modem 
 dwelling, with high partitions, where each 
 family sat by itself like the witnesses in a 
 court, the jury in the jury-box, or, in many 
 cases, like the criminal in his pen, when the 
 judge is about to pronounce sentence on him. 
 The mother or grandmother, in respect for 
 their age aud dignity, were allowed to bring 
 their footstoves, little square boxes of perfo- 
 rated tin, having a little iron dish of live 
 coals within them, and with these, while in- 
 haling the charcoal ftimes, they were fain 
 to keep their feet from freezing in the win- 
 ter: but the father, and the sons, and the 
 little children were allowed no such foolish 
 indulgence. After tramping through the 
 snow perhaps for mUes, they took their 
 seats in their pews with the temperature 
 anywhere from 32^ to zero, and listened as 
 well as they could, while the preacher read 
 his discourse, going on often to seventeenthly 
 or eighteenthly, while the children either 
 played with the house dog, who was a regu- 
 lar attendant upon the church and had his 
 place in the pew, or amuse 1 themselves with 
 some of the few objects in which they could 
 find occupation for their mental and physical 
 activity. The number of panes of glass in 
 the great windows were counted over and 
 over again ; the calculation was made 
 with an elaboration of the doctrine of chan- 
 ces, wor;hy of a Babbage or De Morgan, 
 how manv weeks, months, or years woidd 
 elapse before the huge sounding board over 
 the pulpit would fell, and whether it would 
 come down on the minister's head like an 
 extinguisher on a candle, and whether the 
 little tub perched on a post in which he 
 preached would be crushed in the downfall. 
 Occasionally a child of uncommonly quick 
 perception would find some gratification, as 
 the minister announced his " tifteenthly " 
 and •• sixteent'dy " in computing how much 
 time he woidd be likely to consume in the 
 heads yet to come ; but such an idea as a 
 child's being able to understand what the 
 minister was preaching about, never entered 
 the heads of parent or minister. How should 
 it? The sermons were mostly doctrinal, 
 masterly expositions and logical arguments 
 on the great points of the Cahinistic theolo- 
 gy, but it required the matured minds of 
 
 ] the sturdy thinkers of those days to com- 
 prehend their force and pertinence. Uhe 
 sermons of that time were long : not merely 
 an hour, but often two and three hours in 
 duration. We read of one of the worthies 
 of that time, a shming ligiit in the Massa- 
 chusetts ministry, that " Le was a most god- 
 ly and /)ai'n/W preacher " (don't laugh, read- 
 er, painful in those days meant painstakirg) ; 
 and that on one occasion he preached to his 
 people a good three hours, in the niomiEg 
 of a very wintry day: and after tl ey had 
 taken food, he belabored them for their sins 
 and shortcomings, in the afternoon, by the 
 space of four hours more." In the cities, 
 the churches were mostly frame buildings, 
 though a few brick and stone were put up. 
 One or two of the Dutch churches in Ntw 
 York were built of small red and black 
 brick imported fi-om Amsterdam, but very 
 few had any architectural beauty. The Old 
 Brick Church in !New York, (Rev. Dr. 
 Spring's) on Park Row, was in its day con- 
 sidered one of the finest churches in the 
 city ; if standing now it would hardly be 
 considered a respectable stable (the use to 
 which abandoned churches are generally 
 put in that city). Indeed as late as 183(i, 
 forty-two years ago, there were not in the 
 whole country twenty churches which could 
 be considered specimens of graceful arclii- 
 
 j tecture. The great fire of 1635. which de- 
 stroyed the second church edifice whith the 
 corporation of Trinity church had erected, 
 
 ! as well as several other churches in that 
 
 I part of the city, was incidentally the impulse 
 to great improvements in church architec- 
 ture. The present Trinity church, " a jot ra 
 in stone," was erected on the ruins of its 
 predecessor, and Grace church soon after. 
 
 . From that time New York began to be 
 noted for the beauty of its • church edi- 
 fices, many of them erected at enormous 
 cost. Other cities followed the example ; 
 some, indeed, had already commenced the 
 erection of beautifiil churches. The Gothic 
 styles, Early, Norman, Spanish, Mediaval, 
 and English, were the favorites for many 
 years, and even now have their advocates. 
 Of late years, however, there has been a 
 greater independence of the forms of Ancient 
 and Medieval art on the part of our archi- 
 tects, and while the styles of the Renais- 
 sance, and the ancient classical, are foimd 
 more fi-equently than formerly, there is a de- 
 sire which now and then finds expression in 
 stone, iron, or bricks and mortar, to origin- 
 
CHURCH ARCHITECTCRE, PAST AND PRESENT. 
 
 571 
 
 ate designs more appropriate to our own time, 
 our climate and the new materials for build- 
 ing which we have. Sometimes this leads 
 to very singular structures, experiments, it 
 would seem upon public taste and endurance. 
 Under the name of Italian Renaissance we 
 have particolored buildings of red and cream- 
 colored stone, or black and white marbles, 
 with a profusion of spires, turrets, and finials, 
 and crowned with a massive dome ; in one 
 of the so-called American styles we have 
 broad, squat iron buildings, low, but crowned 
 in the center with a high, towering dome, 
 reminding one of a huge foundry. Another ' 
 American style studiously plain, and un- 
 doubtedly capacious and comfortable for 
 accommodating an audience, seems intended j 
 for two towers, whereof one is cut short at 
 the height of the ridge-pole of the church, 
 and the other forgetting its original intent 
 presently shoots up into a lofty spire (usual- 
 ly of wood, but covered with slate) so slen- 
 der and fragile, that it seems most like a 
 monster darning-needle, set up on end. But 
 these partial failures only serve as waymarks 
 to a more perfect architecture which shall in 
 the end attract the attention of the world by ] 
 its grace and adaptation to the purposes for ' 
 which it is intended. City churches are not ' 
 as yet all models of beauty, but they are 
 improving in these respects very rapidly. In 
 their interior arrangement there has been a 
 great advance. The old-fashioned pew has 
 been banished and the modem slip or cush- ' 
 ioned seat, low, easy, readily accessible and 
 attractive has taken its place. The pulpit I 
 
 is not now a perch or eyrie from which the 
 preacher can get a bird's eye view of his 
 congregation, but a simple reader's desk on 
 a raised platform. PiUars are either entirely 
 dispensed with or are so small as not to in- 
 terfere with the view of the pulpit. Warm- 
 ing and ventilation have been the subject of 
 anxious and protracted thought, and though 
 we can hardly say as yet that either is per- 
 fect, yet we are so rapidly approximating to 
 perfection in these particulars, that the pres- 
 ent generation will probably be able to 
 realize it. The Sunday School and Bible 
 Classes have come to be such important 
 agencies in religious progress, that special 
 accommodations are required and provided 
 for them, usually in a separate buUding, but 
 attached to the church. And so strong are 
 the demands for social life in connection 
 with the church, that most of the newer 
 church edifices have their parlors, retiring 
 rooms, ante-rooms, committee rooms, and 
 many of them pastor's studies and church 
 libraries in connection with the church edi- 
 fices. 
 
 The churches in the country come up 
 slowly to these improvements, and those of 
 the Southern and Western States more 
 slowly than those of the Eastern or Middle 
 States ; but the progress in all is encourag- 
 ing. Still great as has been the advance of 
 the last forty years, we are, as a nation, far 
 behind most foreign nations in the number, 
 the splendor, or the costliness of our temples 
 for religious worship. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Accident insnrance companies, 227. 
 
 "Academician,"" the first educational ptriodical,S93. 
 
 Academies and hiEjh aclioots, 8S8. 
 
 "Academy," an, in Virginia. 377. 
 
 Adams, Hannah, works of, 2So. 
 
 Adams, Mr., designer and wood engraver, 332. 
 
 Adams, Juhn, extract from, upon education, 352. 
 
 Adams, John Quincy, wnrks and career o£^ 376; extract 
 from, upon education. 353. 
 
 Adams press, the, 2!)7 ; illustration oi, 295. 
 
 Adirondac iron mines. 25. 
 
 Adventure copper mine, the, 54. 
 
 Advertising, newspaper, 304. 
 
 jEtna Insurance Company. 222, 
 
 Agricultural macliines, use of, at the "West, 176. 
 
 Agriculture, schools of. 402. 
 
 Alabama, iron mines and furnaces of, 2S; banks and banking 
 in, 203. 
 
 Albany, iron foundries of, 36. 
 
 Albion coal mines, Nova Scotia, 129. 
 
 Alcuin, Bible copied by, in 22 years, 26t. 272. 
 
 Alfred, King, price foi- a book paid by, 2G2, 
 
 Alison, liev. Francis, 349, 
 
 Alleghany mctuntain, iron ores of the, 28. 
 
 Allston, Washington, e-irecr of, as a painter and author, 321. 
 
 Almaden quicksilver mines, Spain, 111. 
 
 Alphabets for the blin<i,440. 
 
 Aluminum, discovery and uses of, 251. 
 
 Amalgamation for extraction of gold, 74 ; Eaton's Improve- 
 ment in, 76. 
 
 AmaUams, uses of, 114. 115. 
 
 America, discovery of, 22S; colonization of, 229, 234. 
 
 American Academy of Fine Arts, 320, 335. 
 
 American Academy of Natural Sciences, museum and library 
 of the, 427. 
 
 "American Annals of Eilucation," 39S. 
 
 American Asylum for the Ueaf and Dumb, 435, 436 ; view o£ 
 4:37. 
 
 American Bible Society, formation and issues of the, 2fit. 
 
 American Biblo Union, organization and imblieations of the, 
 264. 
 
 American Institute of Instruction. 397. 
 
 "American Journal of Educatitm.' 39-5. 399. 
 
 American Female Guardian Society. 449. 
 
 Am.'rican Philosophical Society, origin of the, 349. 
 
 American Telegraph Company, 313. 
 
 Ames, Messrs., foundry of, GS. 
 
 Ancram lead mine, New York. 82. 
 
 Anifisthesia, discovery and use of. 261, 
 
 Anderson. Dr., early engraving hy, 332. 
 
 Andover Theological School, 393. 
 
 Aniline, origin and value of. 149. 
 
 Annapolis, Md., Naval Aeademy at, 396. 
 
 Anthracite coal, use of, in iron-making, 23; first successful 
 application of, 25-6; tirst knowledge and use of. 120; 
 ecological position of. 122; composition and varieties o^ 
 123; strata oC illustrated, 131-2; mining of. 142; open 
 quarries of. 14:i; c<mcentr.ation of bc-ds of, 144; breaking 
 and screening of, 147; employment of, in house-warm- 
 ing, 24S. 
 
 Appalachian coal-basin, IW. 
 
 Appalaehian mountains, gold mines of the. 64. 
 
 Apidet(m. D.. Al Co., sales of Wobator's Spelling-book, Jcc, 
 by, 2U, iOS. 
 
 Aquaregia, 107. 
 
 Aquatint engraving. 334. 
 
 Architecture, domestic, 245; modern improvements In, 247, 
 
 Argentiferous lead ores, methods of working, 90. 
 
 Arizona, ricti gold deposits of, 71 : silver mines of, 115, 
 
 Arkansas, magnetic iron in, 32; zinc in, 98; banks in, 207. 
 
 Arks, transportation of coal by, 136. 
 
 Arrastre, the. description and illustration of^ 75. 
 
 Arsenic associated with zinc. 100. 
 
 Arts of <Iesign in America, 816. 
 
 Assay office. New York, gold deposits at the, 79 ; establish- 
 ment of the, 215. 
 
 Associated Press, the, 303 ; use of the telegraph by, 313. 
 
 Astor Library, 424. 
 
 Atlantic cities, account of the, 181 ; table of exports of the, 
 187; of imports, 192. 
 
 Atlantic Mutual Marine Insurance Company, 223. 
 
 Atlantic Telejraph, history of the, 314. 
 
 Atwood. Luther, patent coal-oil kiln of, 153. 
 
 Audubon. John James, career and works of, 283. 
 
 Austin, Moses, mining operations of, 86. 
 
 Authors, American, 274; younger, list of, 231. 
 
 Bachus, Elijah. manuf:ictnre of cannon by, 19. 
 
 Backus, Li-vi S., deaf-mute editor. 4;i9. 
 
 Backus. Senator F. F., report of, upon the instruction of 
 idiots, 443. 
 
 Bacon. Uov. Samuel, proposal of, for an educational journal, 
 393. 
 
 Bain's electro-chemical telegr.aph, 310 (lllustratitm), 812. 
 
 ilaldface Mountain. N. H,, iron ort'S of, 24. 
 
 Baltimore, ir*on mines U'-ar. 22; the charcoal iron of, 23; 
 copper smelting at. 59 ; chrome at US; recei[>ts of coal 
 at, 139; oriirin, growth, and commerce of, 183; orphan 
 asylums in. 445. 
 
 Baltimore Gotnpiiiy's open coal mines. Wilkesbarre, Pa., 
 pieture of. opposite 137; account ol^ 144. 
 
 Baker. (Jeorgo A., painter, 325. 
 
 Bakoo. thi- petroleum of, IGl. 
 
 Bancroft. George. 284. 
 
 Bank note engraving. 3:33. 
 
 Bank of the United States, the, charter of, 200-201 ; winding 
 up and rccharter of. 201; ojK^rations of. 201-2; removal 
 of the deposits from, '.J02 ; State charter and failuro of, 
 203. 
 
 Banking, method of, in New York, 193; Suffolk system of, 
 203; safety-fund and free, 2W; National and private, 
 2U. 
 
 Banks, disastrous speculations of, 170, 172; State, establish- 
 ment anil operations of. 199; over-issues of. 200; oppo- 
 sition of, to the United States Bank. 201 ; suspension of, 
 in 1^14,201; increase and expansion of, 202; failure o^ 
 in ls;J7. 203; history of, 203-9 ; table of, 1791-1860,209; 
 method of transacting business bv, 210* settling of bal- 
 anci'S by, 210-11. (See National banks.) 
 
 Bare Hill copper mine. Maryland. 49; chromium at. US. 
 
 Barnard. Henrv, educational journals edited by, 398-9. 
 
 Barm-s, A. S„ Ji Co.. sates of school books by, 268. 
 
 Bars, iron, how made, 39. 
 
 Bartlett J. R.. illustration of the New Almaden quicksilver 
 mine bv. 1 14. 
 
 Barytes, Bu'lphate of. used In adulterating white lead, 95. 
 
 Beaumont's method of arresting lead fumes, 90. 
 
 Bedsteads and bedding formerly used, 250. 
 
573 
 
 Beecher, Miss Catharine E^ 2S5 ; efforts of, for female educa- 
 tion, 405. 
 
 Bel;;iuin. zinc manufacture in, 101. 
 
 Bc-lieville. N. J., cupper mine at, 49. 
 
 Beil-meial, composition and use of, 6:3, 120. 
 
 Bells, production of, GS. 
 
 Bonnet, William James, painter, 820. 
 
 Bc-nnett, James Gordon, 303. 
 
 Benton, Thomas IL, works of, 277. 
 
 Benzole, character and use of, 14S. 
 
 Berkeley, Sir William, report of, upon education In Virtjinia, 
 341. 
 
 Berk'i county, Pa., iron mines of, 26. 
 
 Bi-rkshire, Mass., iron mines and furnaces of, 24. 
 
 BethK'liem, Pa., manufacture of zinc at, 99, lU4 ; MoraviaD 
 female seminary at, 349, 404, 
 
 Beuthen, Silesia, zinc mines at. 103. 
 
 Bible, the. early printing of, SGi ; issues and Ion- price of, by 
 the Bible Society, 254; Charlemagne's, 264, *2t'i ; vhe. 
 educational influences of, 3S1-2. 
 
 Bible Societies, formation of, 264. 
 
 Bills t>f credit. State, constitutional prohibition of. 199, 
 
 Binjrham, Caleb, girls' school of. 405. 
 
 Birch, Thomas, marine painter. 322. 
 
 Birmingham, Eng., manufacture of nails at, 41. 
 
 Bishop sleeves, 258. 
 
 Bituminous coal, first trade in, 121 : geological position of, 
 122; character and kinds of, 122; spontaneous combus- 
 tion of, 124; beds of, 129 ; mining of, 141. (See Gas, and 
 Coal oils.) 
 
 Blackjack, 96. 
 
 Black river. Wis., iron mines of, 30. 
 
 Blanc de neige, 104. 
 
 Blast furnaces in the colonies, 17 ; construction and working 
 of, 32; American, superior economy of. 3;i ; illustrations 
 of. 34, 35; tables of production and distribution of. 46. 
 
 Bleaching powder, manufacture of, from manganese, 119. 
 
 Blende, zinc ore, 96. 
 
 Blind, the, institutions for the instruction of, 439; alphabets 
 for, 440; course of instruction of, 441 ; printing for, and 
 writing by, 441 ; statistics of, 457. 
 
 Block-tin lining of lead pipe. 92. 
 
 BlomU'ood &. Ambler, silver-lead smeltinsr works of. 9i. 
 
 Blooinaries, description and working of, 36; localities of, 37. 
 
 Blooms, iron, how made, 39. 
 
 Blue mass, preparation of, 115. 
 
 Blue Ridge, the, copper ores of, 49-50; lead mines of, S3. 
 
 Botfhead canncl coal, 123; composition of, 14T. 
 
 BoiT ores, iron, 22. 
 
 Boiler-plate iron, production of, 41. 
 
 Boise Basin gold mines. Idnho, 71. 
 
 Bonnets, fashions of, 254, 257, 25S. 259. 
 
 Book-binding, 269; illustrations of machines for, 270, 271; 
 origin of, 272; processes of, 272. 
 
 Books, ancient cost of, 262; effect of the discovery of print- 
 ing upon, 263; early market for. in New England. 2&i ; 
 religious, cheapening of. 264 ; pr<»cess of the manufacture 
 of, 264; methods of the sale of. 265; old. the trade in. 261); 
 subscription, publication of, 267; sreat sab's ot^ 267; sta- 
 tistics of, 209 ; increased cost and use of, 269; sizes of, 
 272. 
 
 Booksellers, American Company of^ 263, 264; number and 
 clas.ses of, 265. 
 
 Book stalls, the business of, 266. 
 
 Book trade, the, 262; competition in, 264 ; number engaged 
 in, and operations of, 265; the st4iListics of, 269. 
 
 Book trade sales. 265. 
 
 Borneo, platinum from, 107. 
 
 Boston, origin, growth, and ci^mmerce of. 1S5; b.anking sys- 
 tem ot^ 203--4; early bookselling at. 26:3; early town pro- 
 vision for schools in. 3:39; past experiences in the high 
 schools of. 390, 391 ; orphan asylums in. 445. 
 
 Boston AtheniBum, art gallery of the, 335 ; library of the, 423, 
 427. 
 
 Boston City Library, 424, 425-6 (illustrations). 
 
 " Boston Courant," the, 301. 
 
 Bniidwood, Thomas, in Vii-ginia. 435. 
 
 Bniidwoiids, the. deaf-mute in^tructors, 435, 439. 
 
 Braille's system of writing and printing for the blind, 441. 
 
 BramaVs pump for making lead pipe, 92. 
 
 Eniss, mimufacture and uses of. 62. 
 
 Bray, Ilev. Thomas, libraries in Maryland established by, S4S. 
 
 Bread, kinds of, formerly most used, 252. 
 
 Breckenridge Coal Oil Works, Kentucky, 154. 
 
 Bremen, regulations for emigrants at, 233. 
 
 Bnck, invention of machines for, 244. 
 
 Bridir** water, Vt.. gold at. 64, 
 
 Bridijewater copper mine. New Jersey, 49. 
 
 Bristol, Conn., copper mine at, 49. 
 
 British coal-fields, the, 133. 
 
 British immigration into the United States, 234-5. 
 
 Brokers, board of. New Tork. 195. 
 Bronze, composition ot, 62, 63 "i20, 
 Brooklyn, manufacture oi white lea(' in, 940; orphan asylums 
 
 in, 445. « 1 / 
 
 Brooks, Mrs. Maria, 2S5. 
 Brown, Charles B^ works of, 27>t. 
 Brown, Henry Kirk^, sculptcir, works o.', 325. 
 Brown, Thomas, deaf-mute. 439. 
 
 Brown. William, process of, for dry distillation of coal oil, 158. 
 Brown coal, beds of, 122. 
 Brown University, origin of, .344. 
 Brownson, Orestes A,, writines of. 2S2. 
 Bruce, George, Jr., type-cnsting machine invented by, 298. 
 Bruce, Ge<»rge, Sr.. stereotyping introduced by, 300. 
 Bryant, Wilii;:m C, 2&4, 
 Buckingham, Joseph T., letter of, upon his early school ex* 
 
 perience, 359. 
 Buckminster, Joseph -S., 2S2. 
 Buffalo, origin, growth, and trade of, 1T6. 
 Biihrstone iron ore, 22. 
 Building associations, fallacy of, 225. 
 Buildings, ventilation of, 249. (See Houses.) 
 Bulls and bears, in stock operations, 196. 
 Burden, Henry, rotary squeezer invented by, 39 ; machinea 
 
 of, for spikes and horse-shoes, 43. 
 Bureaus, former style of. 250. 
 
 Burke rocker, the, ilhistration and description of, 74. 
 Burrnah, the petroleum of, 161. 
 Burnett, John T., deaf-mute writer, 439. 
 BurninET-tiuid, use of, for light, 253. 
 Burr, Thomas, process of, for makinc: lead pipe, 91. 
 Buna Bnrra Mining Company, 50, 51. 
 iiushnell, Horace, 2S2 ; extract from, upon the homespun era 
 
 of common schools, 369. 
 Bushnell s anthracite stove. 24S. 
 
 Bussey, Benjamin, bequest of, to Harv.ard College, 401. 
 Bustle, use and construction of the. 258, 
 Butler, E. H., & Co., sales of school books by, 268. 
 Butler, W. Allen, 281, 
 
 Calamine, silicate of zinc, 96, 97. 
 
 (;;ilash, the. for the head, 254. 253. 
 
 Calhoun, John C, career and works of. 277. 
 
 California, history, methods, and yield of gold-mining in, 71-3 ; 
 quicksilver mines of,lU-12; silver mines of, 116; petro- 
 leum in, 167. 
 
 California Quicksilver MiningjAssociatton, 112. 
 
 Camphene, introduction and use of. 25:3. 
 
 Canada, railroads of, 173; public improvements and trade of^ 
 179; effect of the reciprocity treaty with, 179. 
 
 Canada East, gold mines of, 64. 
 
 (_'anada West, oil region of, 167. 
 
 Canals, in California, for gold-minin;:, 72 ; built for coal trans- 
 portiition, 139, 140(tal)le); opening of, 171,172; effect of, 
 upon Western trade and settlement, 172. 
 
 Candles, paraffine, manufacture of, 159 ; use and varieties of, 
 253. 
 
 Cannel coals, use of, in manufacturing gas, 150. 
 
 Cannon, manufacture of, in the revolution, 19. 
 
 Cape Breton, coal-field of, 129. . 
 
 Carbonate of iron, ores and mines of. 21. 
 
 Carlin, John, deaf-mute artist, 439. 
 
 Carlisle tables, the, of average duration of life, 224; inaccura- 
 cy of, 226. 
 
 Carpets, early use of, 250. 
 
 Casiillero, Andres, working of cinnabar by, 112. 
 
 Cast iron, manufacture of. 32 ; uses of, 30; decarbonizing o!^ 
 36; manufacture of steel from, 44, 
 
 Castle Garden. New York, emicrant depot, 240. 
 
 Central Park, the, of New York. 190, 
 
 Ceracchi, sculptor, career of, 326. 
 
 Chairs, old and new varieties of. 250. 
 
 Champlain canal, opening of, 171. 
 
 Chandler, Abiel, 401. 
 
 (.-handler Scientific School. 400. 
 
 Channing, William E., writings of, 291. 
 
 Chapman, John G.. painter and designer, 328^ 
 
 Character, formation of, 3S3. 
 
 Charcoal, use of, in iron-making, 22. 
 
 Chariemagne's Bible, 204, 272. 
 
 Charleston, origin, growth, and commerce of, 1S3. 
 
 (Charleston Library Society, 423. 
 
 Charlotte, N. C, branch mint at, 64; gold deposits at, 19, 
 
 t'hatham, Conn., cobalt mine at, IS; nickel at, 117. 
 
 Chaudiere river, gold mines of. 64. 
 
 Cheever, Kev. George B.. D. D., 280. 
 
 Cheever, Ezekiel. schoolmaster, 340. 
 
 Cherokee lands, the, of Georcia, 69. 
 
 Chesapeake, iron mines on the, 22. 
 
 Chesapeake and Ohio canal, charter for, 171. 
 
 Chester coonty, Pa., lead mines ot\ 83. 
 
574 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Chestnut Hill iron mine. Pa., 20; account of, 27. 
 
 Chica^u. tradt; and railroad system of, 177; shipments of flour 
 and iri'iiiii Iroiii, Hi. 
 
 Chicago City University, view of, 412. 
 
 Clii!d, Mrs. Lydia Maria, worlts of, 265. 
 
 Children's Aid S<»ciety, New York, 449. 
 
 Chilian mill, the, 75. 
 
 Chillicothe. Ohio, first land office opened at, 169. 
 
 Chin.i, qnifksilver mines of. 111. 
 
 Chinese immigration into California, 282. 
 
 Chlorine, mannfaetiire of. from mrinffanese, 119. 
 
 Chromi'. ccimposition and sources uf, 118; uses and treatment 
 of, 118. 
 
 Chrome Iron In Maryland, 27, 23. 
 
 Chrysncolla, 4S. 
 
 Church, landscape paintinss of, 325. 
 
 Cinnabar, 111; early knowledgo of, in California, 112; metal- 
 lui'gic treatment of, 114. 
 
 Cincinnati, orisin, prowth. and trade of, 180. 
 
 Circular s iw, invention ot the, 247. 
 
 Cities, lake, account of, 176; recapitulation, 178; river, ISO; 
 recapitulation, ISl ; Atlantic, 181. 
 
 Clausthal, lead-melting at, 69; treatment of argentiferous 
 ores at, 116. 
 
 Clay, Henry, 277. 
 
 Clay^B plan fur making wrought Iron, 87. 
 
 Clearing house system, the, 2ln. 
 
 Clerc, Laurent, deaf-mute, 435, 439. 
 
 Clergymen, distinguished, list of, 282. 
 
 Cleveland, origin and trade of, 176J; direct trade of, with Eu- 
 rope, 177. 
 
 Clevenger, Shobal Vail, sculptor, 826. 
 
 Cliff cn[)per mine, the, 5=}. 
 
 Clinton, I>i^ ll\'itt, extract from, upon education, 353. 
 
 Clinton county, New York, iron works of, 25; bloomsrios 
 in, 87. 
 
 Clocks, tormer styles of, 251. 
 
 Clymer ]»res9, the, 2S7. 
 
 Coal, early neglect and first use of, 120; varieties ct 121 ; the 
 ash of, 123; composition of dirt'erent kinds of, 122, 123 
 (table); qualities of, 123; relative values of, 124 (table); 
 geological and geograpUiail distribution of, 124; strata 
 of, illustrated, 121», 13U; amount of, available, I^iS; rela- 
 tive amount of, in Europe and America, 134 (tabic); pro- 
 duction of, in eastern Pennsylvania and Maryland, 
 1820-18GO, 134-5 (table); transportation of, to market, 
 135; Uible of public works for, 140; mining, general 
 account of, 140; useful aiiplications of, 144. (See An- 
 thracite, Bituminous, &c.) 
 
 Coal Hill lead mine. New Y<.rk. 83. 
 
 Coal mining, early, on James river, 18. (See Coal.) 
 
 Coal oils, manufacture of, 105; table of American factories of, 
 155; history and method of the manufacture of, 156; 
 coals used for, 157; retorts for, 157; kilns and pits for, 
 158; process of refining, 153; uses of, 160; use of, lor 
 light, 160, 252. (See Petroleum.) 
 
 Coal tiir, nr(»duction and composition of, 143. 
 
 Coats, fas^iioiis of, 25;^. 257, 258. 
 
 Cobalt, mine of, at Cliatham. Conn., 18; useof,116; ores and 
 mines of, 1 17 ; treatment of, 1 17. 
 
 Coinagi", colonial, 212-13; adoptiim of Jefferson's plan of, 
 213; modifications of, 214. 215; table of, 1T93-1SG0, 214; 
 of silver, number of pieces, 216; process of, 217 ; of pla- 
 tinum, 107. 
 
 Coins, fori-'ign. in the colonics, 213. 
 
 Coke, production of, 150; from coal-oil works, 159. 
 
 Cole, Thonuis, career and paintings of, 324. 
 
 College of New Jersey, charter (if, 348. 
 
 Colleges in the XTnite'd States, 392; table of. 452-8. 
 
 Colliery slope and breaker at Tuscarora, I'a., picture, oppo- 
 site 139; description of, 142, 144. 
 
 Colonies, ttie, is^uo of paper monev bv, 193; coinage in, 
 212-13; literature in, 274; education'in, 337. 
 
 Colorado, gold mines of, 71. 
 
 Cnilumbia (.'ollese. New York, origin of, 347. 
 
 Columbian or Clymer press, the, 2^7. 
 
 Colu[ubite and columbium, discovery of, 13. 
 
 Combination press, the, 287. 
 
 •^ ComrntTeial Advertiser," New Yorli, 302. 
 
 Commercial schools, 403. 
 
 ** Common School Almanac," 393. 
 
 "Commttn Schocd Assistant," 393. 
 
 Common pchools, act^ounts of the early state of, 855-80 ; State 
 provisions for the maintenance of, 385-6; present condi- 
 tion of, 387. 
 
 "Common Sense," Paine's, 275. 
 
 Communipaw, N. J., zino manufacture at, 104. 
 
 Congress, school laws of, 354 ; library of, 42;}, 427. 
 
 Conneolirut, early mining in, 17 ; iron mines and furnaces of, 
 24; copper mines of, 48 ; lead minrs of, 82; manulactiire 
 •f tin in, 120; town action for scboole Id, 339; colonial 
 
 legislation of, upon education, 844; provisions of, for the 
 
 support of schools, 8s6. 
 "Connecticut Common School Journal," 898. 
 C(|ntinental money, issues and depreciation of, 199, 245. 
 Cooking, former method of, 253, 
 Cooking ranse, the, 253. 
 Cooper, James Fenimore, difficulty experienced by, in getting 
 
 a book printed, 264; works of, 279. 
 Cooper Union, New York, 434. 
 Copley, John Singleton. 318. 
 Copper, ores of, 43; mines vf.i^etaeg.; process of mining, 
 
 on Lake Superior, 52 ; statistics of, 5G-8 ; ancient uses o^ 
 
 60; ni'idern uses of, 61 ; sheet, manufacture of, 61 ; alloys 
 
 of, 61, 62-3; mines of, 116. 
 Copper mining in the colonies, 18. 
 Copper-plate engraving, 333. 
 ('opper-snudtinp^ 53; processes of, 59. 
 
 Coram, Itobert, account of country schools by, in 1791, 878. 
 Cornell's lead-pii>e machine. 92. 
 Cornwall, Pa., iron iiiiuis of, 26. 
 Ctistume, chani^'es in, illustrated. 2.%3. 
 "Courier and Enquirer," New York, 302. 
 Crawford, sculptor, career and works of; 82T, 
 Credit syst.-m, of New York. 191-2. 
 Cretins, Dr. Guugenbubrs school for, 443. 
 Crockery, former style of, 251. 
 Croton aqueduct, the. 249. 
 Crucibles for steel-making, 44, 45. 
 Cuba, the bitumen of, 161. 
 
 CummiuL's, Thomns S., miniature painter, 323. 
 Cupellation of arsentiferous lead, 90. 
 Cupcda furnaces for copper sines, 60. 
 
 Currency, national issues of. 211. (See Banks, Paper money.) 
 Curtius, Dr. Alexander Carolus, 347. 
 Cut nails, invention of, 41, 246. 
 
 Dagnerreotyping, intmduction of, 261 ; American use and 
 improvement of, 835. 
 
 Dahlonega, Ga., branch mint at, 64; gold-mining at, 70; gold 
 deposits at, 79. 
 
 Damascus Steel Company, 44. 
 
 Danville. Pa., iron furnaces at, 24. 
 
 Darley, F. O. C, desiirner, 325. 
 
 Darliiiirttm, William, letter of, upon country schools, 370. 
 
 T)artmouth College, origin of, 345. 
 
 Davenport, Itev. John, 8:19, 340. 
 
 Davidson county, N. C. gold in, 69 ; lead In, 84. 
 
 Davidson sisters, the, 286. 
 
 Davis, John, account of an old field school in Virginia by, 877. 
 
 Davy, Sir Humphry, improvement in copper sheathing by, 61. 
 
 Day, Benjamin H.. "first penny paper published by, 30.1 
 
 Deaf and dumb, the in-titntions for the instruction of, 434; 
 natural cmdition of. 437; methods of instructing, 438; 
 distinguished individuals among, 439; statistics of, 456 
 (table). 
 
 Deep Kiver co.il-beds. North Carolina, 129. 
 
 Delaware, banks in, 205; colonial school legislation of, 849. 
 
 Delaware and Hudson canal, coal transportation of, 139. 
 
 I)e rE|»ee's method of deaf-mute instruction, 435, 43S. 
 
 Demand notes issued by Government, 211. 
 
 Dentistry, use of platinum in, 109. 
 
 Detmold, C. E., report of, 104. 
 
 Detroit, copper-smelting at, 60 ; origin and railroad connec- 
 tions (.f, 177. 
 
 De%vey, Orville, works of, 282. 
 
 Die sinking, 334. 
 
 Discounts bv banks, 109, 200. 
 
 District of Columbia, banks in, 209. 
 
 Dollar, the Sp.nnish, 213. 
 
 Dorn gold mine. South Carolina, 69. 
 
 Doughty, Thomas, painter, 324. 
 
 Drake, Col. E. L., petroleum production developed by, 168L 
 
 Dress, styles of. by periods, 25;i; illustrations of, 256-6. 
 
 Drummers fttr New York jobbing houses, 183, 
 
 Dry digirinirs, gold, 73. 
 
 Dubuque, discovery of lead mines at, 18. 
 
 Dubuque, Julien. lead mines worked by, 84. 
 
 Dummer, Gov. William, educati<mal legacy of, 844. 
 
 Dunlap, William, ]iainti'r and author, 319. 
 
 Durand, Asher B., landscape and portrait painter, 323. 
 
 Dutch colonization in America, 229. 
 
 Dutch ;:<dd-lcaf, 60. 
 
 Dutch West India Company, educational policy of the, 883. 
 
 Dutchess countv. N. Y., lead mines of, 82, 
 
 Dwight, Hon Edmund. 4iK). 
 
 Dwight, Timothv, D. D., works of, 281 ; school of, at Green- 
 field, 40.\ 
 
 Dyestone iron ore in Tennessee, 23. 
 
 East India School, the, at Charles City, Va., 337. 
 
 Eaton, A. K., inventions of, for decarbonizing caet iroa^Stf ; 
 
575 
 
 for makinfT Steel, 44; improvement of, in amalgamatioD, 
 
 76; C'lmiiounds of chromium obtained by, 119. 
 Eaton, Governor, of Kew Haven, promotion of education by, 
 
 840. 
 Eaton, N. II., lead mine at, 82. 
 Eaton copper mine, Pennsylvania, 49. 
 Edmonds, Francis W,, painter, 323. 
 Education in thi* colonies. 83T ; revolutionary and transitional 
 
 period of, S^A ; extracts upon the benefits of, 352 ; action 
 
 of Conaress upon, 8M ; social influences favorable to, 3S0 ; 
 
 considerations upon the nature of, 383; upon the pn-sent 
 
 system of, 385; w<»rk3 on the principles and methods of, 
 
 897 ; journals of, S9S. 
 Edwards, Jonathan, 274. 
 
 Ehniny:er, .lohn W., painter and designer, 325. 
 Electrotypin^, process of. 300. 
 Eliot and Storer, analysis of zinc by, 100. 
 Ellenville. N. Y., lend and copper mines at, 82. 
 Elliott, Charles L., portrait jminter. 320. 
 Emancipatinn proclamation, effect of the, upon the book 
 
 trade, SCO. 
 Emb'issinir machine, for books, 271 (illustration), 272. 
 Emerson, George B., voung ladies' school of, 405. 
 Emers'»n, Rev. Joseph, young ladies' school of, 405. 
 Emiprati'm, early, to America, 2"29; from German v. 232; from 
 
 Great Britain, 234; from Ireland. 235; English law for 
 
 the regulation of. 23G; Commission o(^ at New York, 
 
 operations of, 240 ; statistics of, 240. 
 Emlfrrants, treatment of. at Liverpool, 236; cjire of, at New 
 
 York, 240; table of location of, 242 ; expenses and capitid 
 
 of, '14^; remittances of. 243. 
 England, introduction of illuminating gas into, 145; origin of 
 
 newspapers in, 801-2. 
 English, the, cnlonizatron of America by, 229. 
 English basement houses, 247. 
 Engraving in the United States, present and past state of, 
 
 illustrated, 329, 831 ; wood, improvements in, 332; cop- 
 perplate and steel, 833. 
 Enreqiiita quicksilver mine. California, 112. 
 Einiitable Life Insurance Company, London, 225. 
 Erie canal, construction of, 171 ; effect; of, upon western trade 
 
 and settlement, 172. 
 Erie, Pa., building of Perry's fleet at, 169-70. 
 Erie railroad. 172. 
 
 " Essays lo do Good," by Cotton Mather. 274. 
 Essex county, N. Y., iron mines of, 25 ; bloomaries in, 3T. 
 Etching, jfrocess of, 334. 
 Eureka copper mine, Tennessee. 50. 
 Eveleth and Bissell. petrcdeum operations of, 162. 
 "Eveninir Post," New Y< irk. 302. 
 Everett, Alexander, career of. 277. 
 Everett, Edw:ird, career of. 2T7; account of former school life 
 
 in Bost<in by. Sftl ; ;tt Harvard College, 392. 
 Exchange, course of, at New York, 193-4 ; par of, how ascer- 
 
 Liined, 212. 
 Exports of the Atlantic citi.*s, table of, 187. 
 Express, transmission of newspapers by, 306. 
 Expresses, origin and extension of, 1S3. 
 Extension tables, inveniion of, 250, 
 
 Faculties, development of the, 3S4. 
 
 Fairm<umt Water Works, 249. 
 
 Falling Creek, Va., iron woiks at, 17. 
 
 Family instruction. coloni:(l law for, in Massachusetts, 343. 
 
 Family training, educatiunal influence of, SSI. 
 
 Fanny Fern, 2S5. 
 
 Farmers' Hiirh t^chool of Pennsylvania, 402. 
 
 Fashions, changes in, illustrated, 253. 
 
 Fay, Theodore S.. works of, 2S0. 
 
 "Federalist," the, 275. 
 
 Felt hats, introduction of, 253. 
 
 Female education. 404. 
 
 Female writers, list of. 2S5. 
 
 Fiction, ereat sales of books of, 267 ; writers of, 27S. 
 
 Field, Cyrus W., est.iblishment of the Atlantic telegraph by 
 
 the efforts of. 314. 
 Fine arts, instruction in the, 404. (See Arts of design.) 
 Fire, losses by, 223. 
 
 Fire insurance companies, 220; statistics of, 222, 22;! 
 Fire-places, old-fashioned, 246. 
 Fisher, Alvan, painter, 320. 
 Fiske, l:ev. Wilbur, 405. 
 Fletninston copper mine. New Jersey, 49. 
 Flint, Timothy, works of, 2S1. 
 Flint fflass made with oxide of zinc. 107. 
 Florida, csslon of, 171 ; banks in, 2(»9. 
 Folding machine, the, for books, 272; for newspapers, 306. 
 Food, f'irmer kinds and preparation of, 252. 
 Foreigners in the United States, 22S. 
 Forks, kinds of. 251. 
 Foundries, iron, 86. 
 
 Four-color printing press, the, 297; illustration of, 294. 
 
 Fowie, William B., account of the early ISoston schools br. 
 390. ■" 
 
 Fractional currency, national, 211. 
 
 Fninconia, N. U., iron mines and works of, 24. 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, bequest of, t». the city of Boston, 199; 
 works of, 275; the press used by, 2S6, 2S9 (illustnition); 
 first editorial experience of, 301"; the " Phila-lclphia Ga- 
 zette" of, 305; educational proposals of, 349; lyceuma 
 oritrinated by, 433. 
 
 Franklin, Pa., jietroleum at, 103. 
 
 Franklin co[i[ier mine. New Jersey, 49. 
 
 Franklin copper mine, the, of MichigMo, 54; production of, 58. 
 
 Franklin Institute, the, 403. 
 
 Fninklinite iron ore, 25. 
 
 Fninklinite, manufacture of, from zinc ores, 105-6. 
 
 Frasee, John, sculptor, 326. 
 
 Fraser, Charles, miniature painter. 321. 
 
 Fremont, Col., the mining operations of, 73. 
 
 French indemnity, payment of the, 215. 
 
 French Revolution, fashions during the, 254. 
 
 Friedlunder's alphabet for the blind, 440. 
 
 Frock coat, introduction of the. 257. 
 
 Fry, Richard, bookseller, advertisement of^ 263. 
 
 Fuel, use of gas for, 153. 
 
 Fuels used in iron-smelting, 20 ; for puddling, 38. 
 
 Fuller, S. Margaret, 2S5. 
 
 Fulton, Robert, as an artist, 318. 
 
 Furnaces, iron, construction of, for nnthracite, 23; location 
 and working of, 23; for copper-smeltine. 58, 59; for lead- 
 smrlting, S8; for zinc, 99, 104 ; for quicksilver, 114; hot- 
 air for beatinc, 248. (See Blast furnaces.) 
 
 Furniture, manufacture and varieties of, 249. 
 
 Galena, lend ore. 81. 
 
 Gah'ua and (. liicago railroad, 173. 
 
 Gallaudet. Rev. Thomas H., labors of, for the instruction of 
 the deaf and dumb. 435; system of, 43S. 
 
 Galvanized iron, invention, manulacture, and uses of, 40. 
 
 Game, former use of, for food, 252-3. 
 
 Gap copper mine, the. IS. 
 
 Gas, illiiminatin2. history of, 145; cost of, 146; table of com- 
 panies for, 146; table of works for, by states, 147; con- 
 stituents of, 147; combustion of, 148; construction of 
 works for, and process of manufacturing, 149; coals used 
 for, 150; the measurement of, 150; economy in the use 
 of, 151 ; mnde of testing the quality of, 152 ; from other 
 materials than coal, 152; for steamboats and ruilroad 
 cars, l&J ; use of, for fuel, 153 ; introduction o^ for light- 
 ing streets and houses, 2-19. 
 
 Gas-holders, construction of, 151. 
 
 George IV., fashions introduced by, 257. 
 
 Georgia, iron mines and fnrnaces of, 28 ; copper mines of, 50 ; 
 gold mines of, 63, 69 ; banks in, 208; early schools of, 350 ; 
 school holiday in. 373. 
 
 German inimi-^raiion into the United States, 232; motives of^ 
 233; home etlorts t-. check, 234; causes of, 234. 
 
 German silver, composition of, 63, 117. 
 
 Gitl-book system, the. 266. 
 
 Girard, Stephen, purchase of the United States Bank by, 201, 
 
 Girard College, view of, 40S ; organization of, 446. 
 
 Gisborne, F.^N., ttle<:raph engineer, 814. 
 
 Glass made with oxide of zinc, 107. 
 
 Gleason's " American gas-burner," 152. 
 
 Gold, imitations of. 62: localities and mining of, in the Ap- 
 palachian r.inge, C3-T0; in the Rocky Mountains, 70 ; in 
 California, 71 ; production of. 1S4S-1S52. 73 ; natural dis- 
 tribution of, 73; v.iriation in the value of native, 77; mint 
 deposits of, 77-79 (tables); uses made of, SO; platinum 
 associated with, 107; iridium, 110; course of the trade in, 
 193; coinage of, 214; coins of, 215; mint deposits oi^ 216. 
 
 Gold Hill, N. C, gold-mining at, 69. 
 
 Gold-leaf, manufacture and uses of. SO. 
 
 Gold-mining, iIlu:?trations of. 65-8; processes of, 72-77. 
 
 Gong, Chinese, American manufacture of the, 63. 
 
 Gordon, J. W. W.. 115. 
 
 Gotha Life Insurance Company, Germany, 225. 
 
 Gonl.l, Miss Hannah F., 2S6. 
 
 Grafton, Ohio, the petroleum of, 167. 
 
 Graham, Augustus, process of, for making white lead, 94. 
 
 Grain, tibles of Western shipments of, ITS. 
 
 Grand Trunk railway, the, of Canada, 179, 
 
 Graphite, gerdogical position of, 122. 
 
 Grates, use of, for anthracite, 24S. 
 
 Gravel walls, 246. 
 
 Gray, Henrv Peters, painter, 325. 
 
 Great Brita"in, development of the iron manufacture of, 19; 
 lead mines of, 67 process of zinc manufacture in, 99; 
 thickness of the coal-beds of, 133 ; succession of races in, 
 228; emisrration from. 229. 
 
 Qre«a Mountains, the, iron mines ot^ 24 
 
676 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Greenbacks, 211. 
 
 Greene, E. L). E., painter, 825. 
 
 Greenough, Horatio, sculptor, career of, 826. 
 
 Greenwood furnace, the, 25. 
 
 Grii'-'Stown, N. J., copper mine near, 49. 
 
 Guadalupe quicksilver mine, California, 112. 
 
 GuKSenbuhl, Dr. Louis, institution of, for cretins, 443. 
 
 Gun"metal, composiiion and uses of, 62-3, 120. 
 
 Guyton de Morveau, zinc paint first recommended by, 1U3. 
 
 Habersham county, Ga., eold mines of, 63. 
 
 Hall, James, works of, 280. , , . j k„ 
 
 Hall, Key. Samuel Read, first teachers' seminary opened by, 
 
 899. 
 Halleck, Fitz-Greenc. poems of, 281. 
 Hamilton's report, 27.'). 
 Hangin<; Kock iron district, the, 29. 
 Hardins, Chester, portrait painter, 821. 
 Hare, Robert, fusion of platinum by, 109. 
 Harnden W F., e-vpress business originated by. !»«. 
 Harper & Brothers, publishers, 264, 265; the operations of, 
 
 268. 
 " Harper's 'Weekly," 307. o >, i. 
 
 Hartford Society for the Improvement of Common Schools, 
 
 S93. 
 Harvard, John, bequest of, to Harvard College, 342. 
 Harvard College, foundation of, 342; Everett's account ot life 
 
 at, fifty years ago, 392. 
 Harvard University, Scientific School of, 401 ; library of, 424. 
 Harvey's or Salter's plan for making wrought iron, 37. 
 Hats, fashions of, S.M, 257, 258. 
 Hauy, Valenlin. labors of, for the blind, 439. 
 Havre, Gennin emigration by w.ay of, 233. 
 Hawthorne, Natlianiel, career and works of, 280. 
 Hays, W. J., animal painter, 32.5. 
 Head-dresses, old styles of, 2.54. 2.58. ^ 
 Heinicke's method of deaf-mute instruction, 43.5, 438 
 Hematite iron ores and mines, 20; distribution of, 24. 
 Henry, Alexander, copper mining by, 61. 
 Henry, Patrick, 27.5, 
 
 Hewitt, Abrara S., on iron production, 19. 
 Hicks, Thomas, portrait painter. 32.5. 
 Hi-hlanders, emigration of, to the Lnited States, zaP. 
 HiFdretli, Richard, 284. 
 Historians, minor, list of, 284. 
 Hitz, John, first American maker of zinc, 99. 
 Hoe, Richard M., inventor of the type-revolving press, 2S8. 
 Hoirman, Charles F., works of. 280. 
 Holbrook Josiah, labors ot; in founding lyceums, 4-33. 
 Holmes. Oliver Wendell, 281. 
 Homes for the Friendless. 449. 
 Homoeopathy, introduction of. 260-61. 
 Hoofstetter, attempts of, to manufacture zinc, 99. 
 Hooker, Herman. 2S2. 
 
 Hoop skirts, use and construction of, 258. , .v 
 
 Hopkins, Gov. Edward, grammar schools founded under the 
 
 will of, 340. 
 Horn-book, the, 41.8. , ,o 
 
 Horse-shoe nails and horse-shoes, machines for, 4.i. 
 Hose-washing in California, 72. 
 Hosmer, Harriet, sculptress, works of, 328. 
 Hotel, the modern American, 261. 
 Hotels of New York. 196. 
 Houdon, statue of Washington by. 826. 
 Houghton, Dr. Douglass, exploration of the Michigan copper 
 
 mines by, 61. 
 Houses, early style of building. 245 ; improvements in, 246-7 , 
 in the Soutliern States, 247; Improvements in warming, 
 243; lighling of, 249, 251. 
 House's printing telegraph, 310 (illustration), 811. 
 Howe, Mrs. Julia Ward, 286. 
 Howe, Dr. Samuel O., 439, 443. 
 Huancavelica quicksilver mines, Peru, 111. 
 Hubbard, Wis., immense iron bed of, 30. 
 Hudson river, iron furnaces on the, 28 ; early trade of the, 
 
 186. 
 Hughes's system of telegraphing, 311. 
 Humphrey, lleman, D. D., letter of, upon the early state of 
 
 common schools, 856. 
 Hnntington, Daniel, painter. 825. 
 Iluron coplier mine, production of, 58. 
 Hydraulic gold-mining, 65. 
 Hydraulic works of California, 73. 
 Hydrocarbon gas. manufacture and character of, 152. 
 Hydrocarbon or coal oils, l.'vl. (See Coal oils.) 
 Hydropathy, introduction of, 261. 
 
 Idiots, Institutions for the training of the, 442 ; modes of 
 
 teaching. 444. 
 Idria quicksilver mines. Carniola, 111. 
 Illluois, lead mines of, 84 ; coal in, 124 ; banks In, 206. 
 
 Illinois Central railroad, 1 18. 
 " Illustrated News," the. 307. 
 
 Immiffiation inlo the United States. 230; laws regulating, 
 231- table of, 1820-1856, 231; sources of, 232 et seq. ; 
 statistics of. 241. 
 Imports and exi.orts of Canada, 179; of Cincinnati, 180; of 
 New Orleans, 183; of Charleston, 183; of Baltimore, 1S8; 
 orl'hiladel|ihia, 184; of Boston, lai ; of New York, 187. 
 Indiana, binks and banking system of, 20,5. 
 Indian corn. Western crops of, 174 ; importance of. 175. 
 Industrial schools. 449. 
 Ingham, Charles <.'., painter. 322. 
 
 Inkballs. use of, in printing, 2S7. , ,. , . »v j 
 
 Inking machine, hanil, 287, 290 (illustration); patent hand- 
 press steam. 290 (illustration). 
 Inman, Henry, painter. 823. 
 Inoculation, vaccine, introduction of. 260. 
 Insurance, principles of. 219; cr.mpanles, classes of, 220, 221. 
 
 (Sec Accident, Fire, Life, Marine.) 
 Intelligence, general, causes of, 380. 
 Intercourse, social, importance of means of, 260. 
 Interest, fallacious idea of. 226. 
 Iowa, lead mines of S4; banks in. 206. 
 Ireland emigration from. 235; effects of misgOTemmcnt and 
 
 the" famine in, 235; reformatory measures in, 286. 
 Iridium and osmium, use and sources of, 110. 
 Iridosniium, 110. ♦.j^v- 
 
 Irish emigrants, impositions upon, at Liverpool, 236; tricks 
 
 of, 238 ; the passage of. 239. 
 Irish emigration to the colonies^ 229. r 10,0 lain 
 
 Iron early exportation ot pig, 18; production of, 1828-1850, 
 20- principal ores of, 20; comparative cost of the pro- 
 duction of, 23; distribution of the ores of. 24; kinds of; 
 82; production and importations of, 46; domestic, amount 
 aiid value of, 47 ; chromate of, 118. 
 Iron manufacture, hi.Uorical sketch of, 18; advantages of the 
 United States for, 19; materials employed in, 20; fuels 
 useil ill 22; furnaces for, 23; processes of, 82 (see Cast 
 Iron. Wrought iron. Sheet iron. Puddling, &c.); statistics 
 of, 45 ; effect of the war upon, and prospects of, 47. 
 Iron Manufacturers. Association of, 45. 
 Iron mines, distribution of, 24 et seq. 
 Iron mountain. Mo.. 31. 
 
 Iron works, early, in the colonies, 17; table of, in IboS, 40. 
 Irving. Washington, works of. 278. 
 
 Isle Royale. copper mines of. 52, 58. . v , v 
 
 Ivison. Phinney, Blakeman & Co., sales of school books by, 
 268. 
 
 Jackson, N. H., oside of tin nt, 120. 
 
 James River coal mines, first working of. 18, 121. 
 
 Japanese ambassadors, bill for the entertainment of the, 
 
 197. 
 Jarvis, John Wesley, painter. 320. 
 Jay, John, extract from, upon education, 353. 
 Jay, Vt, chrome mines in, 118. , „,, . 
 
 Jefferson, Thomas, plan of coinage by, 218; w-.-itincs of, 275 , 
 plan of a school law by, 342; extract from, upon educa- 
 tion, 352. 
 Jewelry used in gift-book sales, quality of, 266. 
 Johnson. Eastman, painter, 325. . . , , 
 
 Jones, Rich.ard, process of, for making white oxide of zinc 
 
 from the ore, 104. 
 " Journal of Commerce," New York, 803. 
 " Journal of the I'.hode Island Institute of Instruction, 89S. 
 Juvenile Asylums, 449, 450. 
 
 Kansas, coal-beds of, 124. 
 
 Keeseville, N. Y'., nail factories of, 2.5. 
 
 Kenible. Mrs. Frances Anne, 2S6. 
 
 Kennedy, John P., works of, 2T8. 
 
 Kent, Chancellor, extract from, upon education, SSi. 
 
 Kent ore bed. Conn., 24. .„..,., <• »v., 
 
 Kentucky, iron mines and furnaces of, 29 ; thickness of th» 
 
 coal-beds of, 133; banks in, 207. 
 Kerosene Oil Works, Newtown, L. I., 154, 153. 
 Keweenaw Point copper mines, 51, 62 ; production of, 57. 
 Kidder's gas-regulator, 151. 
 King. Chas. B.. painter. 320. 
 King's College, New York, fonndation of, 347. 
 Kirklanil, Mrs. Caroline M.. 285. 
 Knife-handles, balanced, 251. 
 K5nigshutte, Silesia, zinc works at, 101, 102. 
 Kossuth hat, introduction of the, 258. 
 
 Lakes, cities of the. 176 ; aggregate trade of the, 178. 
 
 Lambdins, the. painters, 82.5. 
 
 La Motte lead mines, Missouri, 85, 86. 
 
 Lamps, varieties of, 251-2. 
 
 Lancaster. Pa., zinc mine near, 97. 
 
 Lancaster county, Pa., nickel mine In, 117. 
 
577 
 
 Land, railroad grants of, 1T3; sales of, 1821-1S60. 1T4; war- 
 liiuis and dun;itioiis of, 114 ; amount of, unsold, 176. 
 
 Land olliees, opening of, 1G9. 170. 
 
 Laud sales, government system of. 169 ; amount of. 17!>'>-1S20, 
 171 ; increase of, from hpeculntion and public works, 172. 
 
 Land speculation, evil etfects of. 171. 172. 
 
 Land States, increase of population in, 175. 
 
 Landscape painters, S'25. 
 
 Lapis i-alaminaris, 9S. 
 
 Lard oil, 154. 
 
 Lawn-nce, Abbott. 400, 401. 
 
 Lawrence Scientific School, 400. 
 
 Law schools, 894 ; table of, 455. 
 
 Lead, ores of, SI; localities of. S2-6; shipments of, from S. 
 W.Virginia, 84; from the upper Mississippi, So; dimin- 
 ished production of, 86; table of production and imports 
 of, 1832-1S5S, ST; smeltin:;. methods of, 87; fumes of, 
 methods of arresting. 90 ; manufactures of, 91 ; separa- 
 tion of silver from, 116. 
 
 Lead mining in the colonies, IS. 
 
 Lead pipo, manufacture of. 91 ; use and danger of, 92. 
 
 Leclaire, process of, for making zinc paint, 103; 
 
 Lectures and lecturers, 433^. 
 
 Legai-tender notes, national issue of. 211. 
 
 Legare, Hutrh S.. career and writings of, 278, 
 
 Lfg-of mutton sleeves, 258. 
 
 Lehigh Coal and Navigation Company, 136, 
 
 Lehigh Coal Mine Company, 121. 
 
 Lehigh cnimty, Pa., zinc mines of, 97. 
 
 Lehigh region, the, coal produced in, 1820-1860, 135. 
 
 Lehigh river, slack-water navigation of, 186; railroad. 139. 
 
 Lehii^h vallev, iron furnaces in the, 23 ; iron ores of, 26. 
 
 Leslie, Mrs. Eliza, 2&5. 
 
 Leslie's "■ Illustrated Newspaper," 807. 
 
 Le Sueur, discovery of load mines by, 18, 84. 
 
 Letter-writers of the llevolution, '275. 
 
 Leutze. Emanuel, historical painter, 325. 
 
 Liberty, Md., copper mines near, 49. 
 
 Librai-ies in the United States, 423; principal, table of, 
 429^52. 
 
 Life insurance, statistics and principles of, 224 ; in different 
 countries, 225; table of comparative rates of, 226; ten 
 years' non-forfeitablo plan of, 227. 
 
 Liglit, materials used fur, 249. 2.il-2. (See Gas, Coal oils.) 
 
 Lignite, formation and beds of, 122. 
 
 Limestone as a flux for iron ores, 20. 
 
 Line eni^raving, process of, 333. 
 
 Lippincott, Mrs. Sarah J., 2S6. 
 
 Lippincott & Co.. publishers, transactions of^ 263, 
 
 Liquors, former universal use of, 253. 
 
 Litchfield, Conn., girls' school at, 405. 
 
 Literature, American, 274. 
 
 Lithography, 835. 
 
 Liverpool, fleecing of Irish emigrants at, 236. 
 
 Live-stock insurance companies, 227. 
 
 Lloyd's, marine insurance, 223. 
 
 Loadstone, the, 21. 
 
 Locust Mountain coal-measure, section of, 182. 
 
 Log houses, construction of. 247. 
 
 Looking-glass plates, preparation of, 114. 
 
 London, marine insurance at. 223. 
 
 Longfellow, Henry W., works of. 2S0. 
 
 Longstreefs "■ Georgia Scenes," extract from, 874. 
 
 Lossing, Benson J., works of, 2S4. 
 
 Louisa county, Vn., gold mines of, 64. 
 
 Louisiana, purchase of, 170; banks in, 203. 
 
 Louisville, origin and growth of, ISO. 
 
 Lovell's Latin School, Boston, account of, 390. 
 
 Lowell, .Tames Kussell. 2S1. 
 
 Lowell Institute. Boston. 434. 
 
 Luhricuting oils from coal, 161. 
 
 Lucesco oil works, 157. 
 
 Lumpkin county, Ga., gold mines of, 70. 
 
 Luyck, Kev. Dr. ^gidius. 347. 
 
 Lyceum movement, the, 403. 
 
 Lyceums, 4^52 ; for mutual instruction, history of, 433. 
 
 Lyon. Miss Marv, Mount Holyoke Female Seminary estab- 
 lished by, 405. 
 
 Mackintosh, Miss M. J., 235. 
 McCormack gold mine. Georgia. 70. 
 McDowell county, N. C, gold-mining in, 69. 
 McLean, J. S.. first American pianoforte patentee, 260. 
 Madison, James, works of, 275; extract from, upon education, 
 
 353. 
 Magdalen Asylums, 450. 
 Magnetic iron ores, 21; localities of, 24. 
 Magnetic Telegraph Company, 313. 
 Maine, lead mines of, 82. 
 Maine law, the. 260. 
 Ualno Telegraph Company, 313, 
 
 35* 
 
 Malachite, green, 43. 
 
 Maibone, Edward G., miniature painter, 820. 
 
 Mallet's method of making galvanized iron, 40. 
 
 Manassas Gap, Va.. copjter ores at, 49. 
 
 Man-catchers of Liverpool, 236-7 ; tricks of, 233. 
 
 Manijanese. use, sources, and treatment of, 119. 
 
 Manhattan Gas Light Company, 145. 
 
 Mann, Horace, 387.' 
 
 Manual labor schools. 403. 
 
 Mnrieopa Mining Company (silver), 116. 
 
 Marine inMirance,223 ; t:ible of, in New York, 224. 
 
 Mari|iosa county, Cal., quartz-mining in, 73. 
 
 Marshall, John, works and character of, 276. 
 
 Maryland, iron mines and furnaces of, 28; copper mines o^ 
 49 ; eold in, 64 ; cobalt in. 117 ; chromium in, IIS ; coal- 
 field of, 124, 185; banks in, 205; colonial legislation of, 
 upon educixtion, 347. 
 
 Maryland Agricultural College, 402. 
 
 Massachusetts, early iron works in, 17; lead mines of, 82; 
 manganese in, 119 ; coal in, 129 ; colonial issues of paper 
 money in, 19S; colonial coinage of. 212; marine in- 
 surance in, 224; life insurance in, 225: colonial legisla- 
 tion of, upon education, 842; the constitution and laws 
 of, upon education. 3S5. 
 
 Massachusetts Ilospit.tl and Life Insurance Company, 224 
 
 Massachusetts School for Imbecile and Feeble-mindea Youth, 
 443. 
 
 Mather, Cotton, works of, 274. 
 
 Mauch Cliunk railroad and coal business, 136. 
 
 Mauch ("hunk Summit mine, section of, 132. 
 
 Mecca, Ohio, the petroleum of, 1G7. 
 
 Mechanics, schools for, 403. 
 
 Medical schools, 394 ; table of. 455. 
 
 Melville, David, efforts of, to establish the use or gas, 145. 
 
 Mentely, Messrs., bell foundry of, 63. 
 
 Mercurial metlicines. preparation of, 115. 
 
 Mercury, use of, in gold-mining, 74, 76; uses of. 110; ores of, 
 111 ; mines and yield of. 111; mining of, in California, 
 112; total production of, 112; metaliurgio treatment oi 
 114; useful applications of, 114. 
 
 Mezzotint engraving, S;J4. 
 
 Michigan, iron mines and furnaces of, 29 ; copper mines of, 
 61; coal-field of. 120; banks in, 206; Agricultural Col- 
 lege of, 402; Univer.'^ity of. scientific course of, 402. 
 
 Middletown, Cunn., argentiferous lead mine at, 18, 82. 
 
 Mitrration, universality of, 22S. 
 
 Milit^u-y Academy, the. 395. 
 
 MiliUiry schools in Virginia, South Carolina, &c., SdG. 
 
 Mills, Chirk, sculptor, 82S. 
 
 Milsuii, Mr. Call isle tables constructed by, 234. 
 
 Milwaukee, origin, growth, and trade of, 173. 
 
 Mimbi'es copper mines, 116. 
 
 Mine Hill, N. J., zinc mines at, 97, 
 
 Mine la Motte lead mine, Stj; cobalt at, 117; nickel at, 117. 
 
 lis. 
 
 Mineral paints, 247. 
 
 Minesota co])per mine, the, ancient and modern working of, 
 
 54; production of, 5(5. 
 Mining, the earliest American charter for, IS. 
 Mining industry of the United States, history of, 17. 
 Minnesota, banks in, 206. 
 Mint, the United States, establishment o(^ 218 ; operations of, 
 
 214 et seq. (See Coinage.) 
 Mini* table of gold deposits at the, 7S~9. 
 Mirwrs, silvering of, 114. 
 Mississippi, banks and banking in, 207. 
 Mississippi basin, settlement of the, 170. 
 Mississippi valley, the, early style of house furniture tn, 25T. 
 Missouri, iron mines of, 31; lead mines of, S5; cobalt and 
 
 nickel in, 117, llS; hanks in, 208. 
 Money, oriijin and nature of, 212. 
 Monroe, N. V., iron beds of, 25. 
 Mont^ina, iri'M and silver mines of, 71. 
 Mrmtoni s riiK'e, Pa., iron mines of^ 27. 
 Moor's Indian Charity School, 345. 
 Moravian schools in Pennsylvania, 849, 404. 
 Moresnet, Belgium, zinc mine at. 101. 
 Morse, S. F. B., career of, as a painter, 822. 
 Morse's telegraph appar.atus, 303, 309 (illustration). 
 Morris, liohert, repi.rt of, ui)on coinage, 213. 
 Moselem iron hrd, the, 26. 
 Motley, John Lothrop. works of, 284. 
 Mount, "William S., paintiuirs of, 323. 
 Mtuint Pi>u'ah coal mini-p.iyU; railroad plane, description and 
 
 illiisti-.itions of, 136. 137, 139. 
 Muntz"s yellow metal, 61. 
 Music books, sales of, 263. 
 
 Nack, James, deaf-mute poet, 439. 
 
 N.icoochee valiey gold mines, Georgia, 63, 70. 
 
 Nails, manulacturo of, and American Improvements In, 41; 
 
578 
 
 table of factories and production o^ 42 ; process of making, 
 42; horee-shoe, 4:3. 
 
 Napier press, the, description of, 287; improvements in, 288, 
 297. 
 
 National Academy of Design, establishment of the, 319, 323; 
 origin and pm-rress of the, 335. 
 
 National Bunk. See Bank of the United States. 
 
 National banks, system of. 211. 
 
 Naturalization laws, the, 230. 
 
 Naval Acadeinv, the. 396. 
 
 Nazareth, Pa., Moravian school at. 349. 
 
 Nickel, uses and mines of, 117 ; ores of, 113. 
 
 Neal, Joseph C, writings of, 281. 
 
 Neal, Mrs. Alice B. (Haven), 235. 
 
 Nebraska, banks in, 207. 
 
 New Aluiaden quicksilver mine, California, 112: picture of, 
 113. 
 
 Newark, N. J., luannfactnre of zinc at. 104. 
 
 Newberry. Dr. J. S., opinion of, upon the source of petro- 
 leum", 1G4. 
 
 New Brunswick, N. J., copper mine at, 49. 
 
 New England, early iron works in, 17; iron mines and fur- 
 naces of, 24; use of peat in, T22; decline of the whaling 
 business of, 154; banks in, 203; fire insurance in, 222; 
 origin and progress of the book trade in, 268; colonial 
 school system of, 33S. 
 
 New England Primer, specimen of the, 414. 
 
 Newfane, Vt., gold found at, 64. 
 
 Newfoundland, ancient Norse colony in, 228. 
 
 New Hampshire, iron mines of, 24; copper in, 49; leadin,82; 
 tin mine in, 120; colonial legislation of, upon education, 
 345; State law for education in, 8S6. 
 
 New Haven, early town action for schools in, 338. 
 
 New Jersey, early copper mining in, 18; iron mines and fur- 
 naces of, 25; copper mines of, 49; zinc mines of, 97; 
 banks in, 205; early schools in, 348. 
 
 New Jersey Franklinite ('ompany, 106. 
 
 New Jersey Zinc Company, 104. 
 
 New Orleans, gold deposits at the branch mint of, 78; acqui- 
 Bition and early commerce of, 170; origin, growth, and 
 commerce of, 181 ; trade and valuation of, lft04-1859, 182; 
 course of trade and exchange at, 182; competition of 
 other places with, 183. 
 
 Newsam, Albert, deaf-mute sculptor, 439. 
 
 Newspapers, establishment of, in England, 801 ; in the United 
 States, 302; in New York, statistics of, 8iU; advertising 
 in, 304; daily, former and present business management 
 of, 305; other classes of, 807; aggregate number and cir- 
 culation of, 307. 
 
 New York, iron mines and furnaces of, 24; copper in. 49; lead 
 mines of, 82; petroleum in, 167; the canals of, 171; tho 
 railroads of, 172; issues of paper money by, 199 ; banks 
 and banking systems of, 204; fire insurance in, 221 ; ma- 
 rine insurance in, 223; life insurance in, 224; number of 
 foreigners in, 242 ; Dutch colonial school system in, 33S ; 
 colonial legislation of, upon education, 346; State school 
 law of, in 1795, 3S6; school superintendent appointed in, 
 386-7; State Library of, 427. 
 
 New York Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb, 436. 
 
 Nl'W Yuik Central railroad, 172. 
 
 New York Children's Aid Society, 449. 
 
 New York city, shot towers in, 94 ; introduction of gas into, 
 145; extentof gas pipes in, 146; early trade of, 1^ trade 
 and finance centred at, 186; course of trade at, IW; pop- 
 ulation, commerce, and valuation of, 1684-1860, 1S7; 
 speculation at, 187; mode of business in, 188; etfects of 
 discovL-ries an<l public improvements upon, 188; move- 
 ment of business and population in, 190; railroads and 
 telegra[)hs in, 190; subdivisions and methotte of business 
 in, 191; exports and imports of, 187, 192; trade in gold 
 at, 193 ; exchange, banking, and stock operations at, 194 ; 
 hotels in, 196; the retail trade of. 197; assay office at, 
 215: insurance in, 222-4; newspapers of, 3(t2; eireulation 
 of the, 803; Sunday press of, 807; Mechanics' School of, 
 403 ; or[ihan asylums in, 445. 
 
 »'New York Express," the, 805. 
 
 New York Gas Light Company, 145. 
 
 *^New York Heniid." the, 803. 
 
 New York Home for the Friendless, 449, 450, 
 
 *' New York Hhistrated News," the, 807. 
 
 ''New York Journal," the, 307. 
 
 New York Juvenile Asylum. 448. 
 
 *'New York Ledger." the, 807. 
 
 New York Society Library, foundation of, 347, 
 
 New York Life ajid Trust Company, 224. 
 
 New York Mercantile Library, 427. 
 
 New York Society Library. 423. 
 
 New York State Asylum for Idiots, 448; view of, 444. 
 
 "New York Times." the. 804. 
 
 • New York Tribune." the, 304 
 
 Normal schools, 397, 399. 
 
 Norsemen, discovery of America by, 22S. 
 
 North Carolina, iron mines and furnaces of, 23 ; copper mines 
 
 of, 50; gold mines of, 63, 69; lead in. 84; cobalt in, 117, 
 
 nickel in, 118; coal-beds of, 129; banks in, 208; colonial 
 
 legislation of, upon education, 349. 
 Northeast, N. Y., lead mine at, 82. 
 Norton, Andrews. 282. 
 
 Norwich Free Academy, Conn., view of^ 411. 
 "Notes on Virginia," Jefferson's, 276. 
 Nott, Elipbalet, D. D., letter of, upon school- teaching, 362; 
 
 the anthracite stove of, 248. 
 Nova Scotia, coal-field of, 129. 
 
 Ohio, iron mines and furnaces of, 29 ; petroleum in. 162, 167; 
 
 government land sales in, 169, 170; banks and banking 
 
 system of, 205. 
 Ohio Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, 436. 
 Ohio State School for Idiots, 443. 
 Oil, whale, diminished production of. 154; lubricating, from 
 
 coal, 160. (See Coal oil. Petroleum.) 
 Oil Creek, Pennsylvania, petroleum on, 162. 
 Old field school in Virginia, account of an, 377, 
 Olefiant gas, composition of, 147. 
 Olmsted, Prof. Denison. 399. 
 Olmsted's anthracite stove, 24S, 
 Oneida Lake, iron mines near, 25. 
 Ontona:ion copper mines. 52, 54; production of, 57. 
 Orators, celebrated American, 275. 
 Oregon, platinum in, 107; iridium in, 110. 
 Oreide, discovery of, 251. 
 
 Orphans, institutions for the education and training of, 445. 
 Orr, Hugh, manufacture of ciinnon by, 19. 
 Orr, Isaac, inventor of the air-tight wood stove, 243. 
 Osgooii, Mrs. Frances, 286. 
 Osmium, 110. 
 
 Oswego, oritrin, growth, and trade of, 176. 
 Ovens, construction of, in <dd-f:ishioned houses, 246. 
 Ovid, N. Y., agricultural college at. 402. 
 Oxide of cobalt, 117; of manganese, 119; of zinc, see Zino 
 
 paint. 
 Osy-hydrogen blowpipe, fusion of platinum by the, 109. 
 Owen, D. D., survey of the lead region by, 84. 
 Owyhee gold and silver mines, Idaho, 71. 
 
 Packer C-ollegiate Institute, the, 405, 409-10 (illustrationsX 
 
 Page, William, painter, 323. 
 
 Paine, Thomas, revolutionary writings o^ 275. 
 
 Painting, academies and schools of, 335. 
 
 Painting and painters in the United States, 316. 
 
 Paints, new kinds of, 247. (See White lead, Zinc paint.) 
 
 Paletot, introduction of the, 258. 
 
 Palmer, sculptor, works of. 828. 
 
 Pantaloon, definition of, 257. 
 
 Paper, printing, sizes of. 272. 
 
 Paper money, origin, kinds, and use of, 193; comparative de- 
 preciation of, in the colonies, 213. 
 
 Paratfine, preparation and use of, 159. 
 
 Parley, Peter, school recollections of, 863, 
 
 Parton, Mrs. 8. P. W. (Fanny Fern), 285. 
 
 Partridge. Captain Alden, military schools or, 89(5. 
 
 Passaic Mining and Manufacturing Companv, 104.106. 
 
 Passengers, arrivals of foreign, 18:J0-1859, 240 ; of native, from 
 abroad, 244. 
 
 Patents, number of, issued. 259. 
 
 Pattinson's method of treating argentiferous lead, 90. 
 
 Paulding, James K., works of. 278. 
 
 Pawnbrokers, the business of, 197. 
 
 Peabody, George, 427. 434. 
 
 Peabody Institute, Baltimore, 427. 
 
 Peale, Charles Wilsr)n. 820; art academy foimded by, 335, 
 
 Peale. Rembrandt, career and pamtings of, S20. 
 
 Peat, formation and beds of, 122, 
 
 Peelo, J. T., painter, 325. 
 
 Peet, Harvey P., 436. 
 
 Peet, Mrs. Mary Toles. deaf-mute poetess, 439. 
 
 Pennsylvania, iron mines and works of, 26; copper mines of, 
 49; lead mines of, 83 ; zinc mines of. 97; chromium in, 
 118; manganesein,119 ; first use of thccoal of. 120; chart 
 of the anthracite region of. 126-7; coal strata of, 129; 
 thickness of the coal-beds of, 135; production of coal in, 
 1820-1860, 134-5; public improvements of, for coal tnins- 
 portiition, 135; history and pr<>diicti<tn of petroleum in, 
 162-3; banks in, 205; early educational laws and institu- 
 tions of, 349. 
 
 Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts. 335. 
 
 Pennsylvania and Lehigh Zinc Com[iany, 104. 
 
 Pennsylvania Asylum for the Blind, view of, 441. 
 
 Pennsylvania canal, opening of, 171. 
 
 Penn-^ylvania Institution for the Denf and Dumb, 436, 
 
 '•Pennsylvania Packet," the, first American daily newspaper, 
 301. 
 
INDEX 
 
 579 
 
 Pennsylvania Rock Oil Company. 163. 
 
 Pennsylvania Society for the promotion of public schools, 393. 
 
 Pennsylviiuia Training Sehuol for Idiots, 443. 
 
 PenokiL^ range, "Wis., iroo mines of. 30. 
 
 Perkinmen copper mine, Pennsylvania, 49. 
 
 Perkins, Jacob, invention of, in'stcel engraving, 833. 
 
 Perry's Ica<l mine, Missouri. S6. 
 
 Peru, quicksilver mines of, 111. 
 
 Petroleum, foreign sources of, 161 ; Burmese, products of the 
 distillation of. 161 ; in the United States, localities and 
 history of. 162. 167; the question of the source of, 164; 
 boring wells for, 164-5; tlow of, 1G6; qualities of, 167; 
 work." for refining, 168 (table). 
 
 Pewabic copjier mine, the. 54 ; production of, 58. 
 
 Pewter, composition of, 120. 
 
 Phelps. Mrs. Almira H., 2S5. 
 
 Phelps's electro-magnetic governor, 312. 
 
 Philadelphia, resources, origin, and business of,lS4 ; manage- 
 ment of a model store at, 1S4; account of early school- 
 tenching in, 371 ; orphan asylums in, 445, 446. 
 
 "Philadelphia Gazette," Franklin's, 305. 
 
 *' Philadelphia Ledger," the, 304. 
 
 Philadelphia Library Companv, 423. 427. 
 
 Phillips, Cul. David M.. de.af-mute. 439. 
 
 Phillips Academy, account of, by Josiah Quincy, 8S8, 
 
 Pha?nixville lead mines, Pennsylvani;i. SI. 
 
 Photography, introduction and use of, 261. 
 
 Photometer, the, 152. 
 
 Phrenology, introduction of the study of. 260. 
 
 Pianofortes, American manufacture of, 260. 
 
 Pictou coal mines. Nova Scotia, 129. 
 
 Pierraont, N. H., iron ore of^ 24. 
 
 Pi^golt, A. Snowden, on copper-smelting, 59. 
 
 Pig iron, manufacture of, 32; classificiition of, 86; table of 
 production of, -iG. 
 
 Pilot Knob, Mo., iron at. 81; works at, 82. 
 
 Pine-tree shilling, the, 212. 
 
 Pins, manufacture of, 62. 
 
 Pittsburg, copper-smelting at, 59, 60; coal mires at, 181 ; cost 
 of mining at, 141 ; origin, growth, and business of, 180. 
 
 Pittsburg and Boston copper mine, production of, 58. 
 
 Planing machine, invention of the. 247. 
 
 Platinum, localities, character, and working of, 107; appara- 
 tus for working, illustration and description ol^ lOB, 109; 
 American consumption of, 110. 
 
 Plumbago, geologrical position of. 122. 
 
 Plymouth colony, appropriation for schools in, 343-4. 
 
 Poe. Edgar A., 281. 
 
 Politics, educational influence of, 3S2. 
 
 Polk county, Tenn.. copper mines of. 50. 
 
 Polk County Mining Company, 50, 51. 
 
 Polytechnic schools. 403. 
 
 Pony expresses in California, 188. 
 
 "Puor Kichard," 275. 
 
 Population, progress of, in the 'Western States, 171,174; de- 
 crease of. in Ireland, 235. 
 
 Porcupine mountains, copper mines of, 52. 
 
 Portage lake copper mines, 52,53-4; smelting works, and 
 production of, 57. 
 
 P<)rt Henry, N, T., iron mines of, 25. 
 
 Portland canal, the, around the falls of the Ohio, ISO. 
 
 Portsmouth, R. L, coal mine at, 129. 
 
 Post, Edwin, first successful use of anthracite by, 25. 
 
 Postage, cheap, establishment of. 261. 
 
 Potato crop, the, dependence of Ireland upon, 285. 
 
 Pot ore, iron, 2S-9 (note). 
 
 Powers, Hiram, sculptor, career and works ol^ 827. 
 
 Preaching, educational effects of, 3S1. 
 
 Prescott, William H., works of, 2S4. 
 
 Press, the, of Franklin (Ramage press), mode of working, 2S6; 
 picture of, 289. (8ee Printing press.) 
 
 Preventive and reformatory institutions, 446. 
 
 Printing, introduction of, in England, 263; processes of, 299; 
 for the blind, 441. 
 
 Printing ink, qualities and composition of, 2S6. 
 
 Printing-press, the, 286; improvements in, 287; illustrati(kis 
 of, 2S9-97. 
 
 Professional schools. 893; tables of. 454, 455. 
 
 Providencia quicksilver mine, California, 112. 
 
 Prussia, attempts of, to check emigration, 234. 
 
 Publishers, book, number and classes of, 265, (See Book 
 trade.) 
 
 Puddling, the process of, 37. 
 
 Putnam county, N. Y.. iron mines oC, 25. 
 
 Pyrites, freeing of gold from, 76. 
 
 Pyritous copper ore. 48. 
 
 Pyrolnsite, ore of manganese, 119, 
 
 Pyromorphite lead ore, 81. 
 
 Quartz mining. 73. 
 
 Queen's College, New ■I'lrsey, foundation of, 348. 
 
 Quicksilver. See Mercury, 
 
 Quincy, Josiah, account of Phillips Academy by, 88S. 
 
 Railroad iron, table of production of, 40, imports of, 178. 
 
 Railroads for coal transportation, 139, 140 (table); American, 
 historical sketch of, 172; extent and cost of, 173; stimu- 
 lating effects of, 173-4; Canadian, 179; street, in New 
 York, 190. 
 
 Railroad ticket machine, illustration and operation of, 296. 
 
 Rainanghong, Burmah, [letroleum at, 161. 
 
 Randall's Island Nursery, 445. 
 
 Readers, large proportion of, in the United States, 262; In- 
 crease of, 2G9. 
 
 Reading railroad, construction and operation of the, 135. 
 
 Reciprocity treaty, trade under the, 179. 
 
 Redwood Library, the, 423. 
 
 Reed's gold mine. North Carolina. 63. 
 
 Reformatory institutions, management of, 447. 
 
 Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, 400. 
 
 Renton's plan for making wTought iron, 87. 
 
 Retorts in gas works, 149 ; in coal-oil works, 157. 
 
 Reverberatory fui'naces. 38; for lead-melting, 89. 
 
 Revere, John W., invention of galvanized iron by, 40. 
 
 Revere Copper Company, the, 58. 
 
 Revolution, orators and writers of the, 275; influence of the, 
 upon education, 351. 
 
 Reynolds, L. G., inventor of horse-shoe nail machine, 48. 
 
 Rhine, valley of the. emigration from, to the United States, 
 232; destitution in, 234. 
 
 Rhode Island, coal-field of. 129; early town action for schools 
 in, 340 ; colonial legislation of, upon education, 344. 
 
 Roberts, Dr. E. A. L., apparatus and process of, for manufac- 
 turing platinum plate, 108, 109. 
 
 Rocker, gold-washing, picture and description of, 67. 
 
 Rockera, use of, in gold-mining, 74. 
 
 Rocky Mountains, gold mines of the, 70. 
 
 Rogers, Prof. H. I>., estimate of the extent of American coal- 
 fields by, 133; of the amount of coal in Europe and 
 America, 134. 
 
 Rolling machine, the, for books, 271 (illustration), 278. 
 
 Rtdling mills in the United States, table of, 40. 
 
 Roofing, use of zinc for, 103. 
 
 Roosevelt & Sons, manufacture of mirrors by, 114. 
 
 Rosin oil, manufacture of cas from, 152. 
 
 Rossie lead mines. New York, 83. 
 
 Rossiter, Thomas P., paintings of, 325. 
 
 Rothermel, P. F., historical painter, 825. 
 
 Ruirgles job press, the, 287. 
 
 Rush, Benjamin, extract from, upon education, 353; on ardent 
 spirits, 260. 
 
 Russ, Dr. John D.. 43. 
 
 Russia, platinum found in, 107. 
 
 Russian-American telegraph, the, 815. 
 
 Russian sheet iron, 40. 
 
 Rust, Samuel, press invented by, 287. 
 
 Rutgers College, New Jersey, origin of, 348. 
 
 Sack coat, introduction of the, 258. , 
 
 Safety Fund banks, 204. 
 
 Sailor, ore of cobalt, 117. 
 
 St. John's C^olleg-e, Annapolis, origin of, 349. 
 
 St. Lawrence county, N. Y., iron mines of, 25; lead mines 
 ot, 83. 
 
 St Lawrence river, navigation of the, 179. 
 
 St. Louis, origin, growth, and trade of, 181. 
 
 Salisbury, Conn., iron mines of, 20, 24. 
 
 San Francisco, gold deposits at the branch mint of, 78; pold- 
 dealing at, 193; branch mint at, 215. 
 
 S.ans-serif alphabet, the, for the blind, 440. 
 
 Santa Barbara quicksilver mine, Pern. 111. 
 
 Santa Clara Mining Company (quicksilver), 112. 
 
 Santa F6, New Mexico, iron at, 32. 
 
 Santa Rita del Cobre mines (copper), 116. 
 
 Sargent, Wilson &. Hinkle, sales of school bf«ks by, 268. 
 
 Saucon zinc mines, Pennsylvania, 97 ; analyses of ores from, 
 98. 
 
 Sawing machine, the, for books, 272. 
 
 Saxe, J. G., 281. 
 
 School apparatus, past and present, illustrated, 422. 
 
 School-books, early manufacture of. 263; mode of introducing, 
 266 ; great sales of, 268; improvements in, illustrated by 
 specimens, 418-21. 
 
 School holidav in Georgia, 373. 
 
 School-houses', early, character of, 357 ; past and present, illus- 
 trated, 406-7. 
 
 Schoolcraft, Henry R., 283. 
 
 Schools, town action in behalf of, in the New England colo- 
 nies, 339 ; C(»lonial legislation for, 341 ; effect of the Rev- 
 olution upon, 351 ; laws of Congress upon, 354; true nso 
 of, 382-3; secondary or higher, leeislativo neglect of,3S8; 
 professional, scientific, and special, 892. 
 
580 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Schools of (leslErn for women, 336. 
 
 Schuylor copper mine, New Jersey, IS, 49. 
 
 Schuylkill, Iron uiiuea ami furnaces on the. 2fi, 27. 
 
 Schuylkill region, coal produced in the, 1820-1&60, lai. 
 
 Scientiftc scliools, 400. 
 
 Scotch eniiirratiun to the colonies, 229. 
 
 Scotch hearth, tlie, description and iUustration of, S3. 
 
 Sculpture anil sculptors in the United States, 325. 
 
 Sedjrwick, Miss Catharine M., works of, 2S5. 
 
 Seguin, Dr. Kdward, labors of, for the instruction of idiots, 
 
 443, 444. 
 Selli^ue, manufacture of coal oil by, l-'G. 
 Seneca Indians, use of petroleum hy, 102. 
 Seneca oil, 102. 
 
 Sewini; machines, introduction and benefits of, 201. 
 Shaking' tal>U'S, in gold mining, 75. 
 Sharp Mountain, section of the coal-measure of, 132. 
 Shawangunk Mount,iin, lead mines of, 83. 
 Shaw, Joshua, landscape painter, 322. 
 Shoar-steel, manufacture of, 44. 
 Sheathing, use of copper for, 61. 
 
 Sheet iron, manufacture and uses of, 40; production of, 41. 
 Sheet leail, manufacture of, 91. 
 Shelhurne, N. H., lead mine at, S2. 
 Shepherd mountain. Mo., iron at, 32. 
 Shingles, use of, 246. 
 Shoes, fashions of, 253, 254, 257. 
 Shot, manufacture of, 92-3; towers for, 94. 
 Siberia, platinum in, 107. 
 
 Sicard, Abb6, 435; method of, for deaf-mute instruction, 433, 
 Siilel.oanl, useofthe, 250. 
 Sii.-u'''nite, nickel ore, 118. 
 Sierra Xevaiia, the, gold mines of, 71, 72. 
 Sigourney, Mrs. Lydia H., 265. 
 
 Silesia, I'pper, zinc works of, 101 ; their production, 102. 
 Silver, in tlie Lake Superior copper mines, 53 ; in Idah<i, 71 ; 
 
 in lead ores, SI; methods of separating from lead, 90; 
 
 American mines of, 115; ores of, and their treatment, 
 
 116; coin ago of, 214; circulation of foreign, 215; pieces 
 
 of, 216. 
 Silvering of mirrors, 114-15. 
 Silver-ware and forks, 251. 
 Sini^bmv, Conn., copper mine at, IS, 43. 
 Siinms, William G.. works of, 2S0. 
 Skirts, fAshions of, 251. 25S. 
 Sl.-eves, fashions of, 25S. 
 SIiiicL-washing for gold, 72. 
 Suiatt, preparation and use of, 117. 
 Smi-lting. See Copper, Iron, Lead, Ac 
 Smith, David, shot-making process of, 93. 
 Smith, Mrs. E. Oakes, 2S5.'" 
 Smith, Peter, 2S7. 
 Smithsonian Institute, library of tlie, 4^7; lectures, &e., of 
 
 (the, 434. 
 Sniithscuute, zinc ore, 9G. 
 
 S;tu hurt, John, portrait painter, 316; Kathaniel, 817. 
 Suowhill, Md., bog iron of, 22. 
 Social and domestic life, 245. 
 Social distinctions, former, 254. 
 Society, treneral progress of, 259. 
 Sd'Ia aud its carbonates, use of, in making steel, 44. 
 Soliier, soft, composition of, 120. 
 Scnirrville, N. J., copper mine near, 49. 
 Soiii-ra fouipany's silver mine, Arizona, 115. 
 S('titli;un|.fnn, Mass., lead mine at, S2. 
 South Can. lina, iron mines of, 28; gold mines of, C3, 64, G9 ; 
 
 manL.'anose in, 119 ; banks in, 203; colonial legislation of, 
 
 upon education, 350. 
 Southern States, the, iron mines and furnaces of, 2S; domcs- 
 
 llG architecture of, 247. 
 South JoL,'u'ins cliffs, coal-measures at, 129. 
 Southworth, Mrs. K. D. E. N., 2S5. 
 Spain, quicksilver mines of. 111. 
 Spanish colonization in America, 229. 
 Sparks, Jared, works of, 233. 
 Specie, amount of, 217. 
 Specie circular, the, 202. 
 
 Sjiecular iron ore and mines, 21 ; localities of, 24. 
 Si»eculum metal, composition of, 63. 
 Spelter. See Zinc. 
 
 Spikes, wrought-iron, machines for, 43. 
 Spurzhcim, plirenology introduced by, 260, 
 Squibb, Dr. E. It., preparation of blue mass by, 115. 
 Stamping mills for quartz-mining, 74. 
 
 S tamps l< >r copper mini nc, 53 ; for gold -crushing, picture of, 68. 
 Statesmen, American, 276. 
 State Teachers'' Associations, 393. 
 States, new, etfcct of land Bpeculatlon upon the increase of, 
 
 171. 
 Steam, use of, in coal-oil making, 158; house-warming by, 
 243 ; social importance of, 260. 
 
 j^tcamers, ocean, introduction of, 1S3. 
 
 Steduian, E. C. 2sl. 
 
 Steel, qualities and manufacture of, 43; American methods of 
 
 making, 44. 
 Steel engraving and engravers, 833. 
 Stephens. Mrs. Ann S.. 285. 
 Stereotyping, process of, 300. 
 Stewart & Co., New York, the business of, 190. 
 Stippling, process of, 334. 
 Stirling Hill, N. J., zinc mine at, 97. 
 Stirling's gas-regulator, 151. 
 Stocks, origin of the trade in, 194; method and amount o^ 
 
 195, 196. 
 Stores in New York, 190. 
 Story, Joseph, works of, 276. 
 Stoves, m.anufacture of, at Albany, 36; use and kinds of, 243; 
 
 for cooking, 2513. 
 Stowe, ilrs. Harriet Eeecher, works of, 285. 
 Street, Alfred B., 281. 
 Street railroads in New York. 100. 
 Stuart, Gilbert, prirtrait painter, 318. 
 Subscription books, publication and sale of, 267. 
 Suffolk Bank system. 203. 
 Sully, Thr)mas, career and paintings of, 321, 
 Summit coal mine, open quarry, picture of, 133; account oi^ 
 
 1413. 
 Sunday press, the, of New York. 307. 
 Superior, Lake, iron mines of, 29; copper mines of, history, 
 
 extent, working, aud production ol the, 51-58; shipmenta 
 
 of iron from, 57. 
 Susquehanna, iron mines on the, 26. 
 Sutter's mill, discovery of gold at, 71, 
 Swansea, copper-smelting at, 53; zinc works at, 96. 
 Sydney coal-mines, Cape Breton, 129. 
 Sykesville, Md., iron aud copper mine at, 23,49. 
 
 Table furniture, varieties of, 251. 
 
 Tables, o!<l and new styles of, 250. 
 
 Tait. Arthur F., painter, 325. 
 
 Tar Lake, Trinidad, 161. 
 
 Tarentum, Pa., petroleum wells at, 162. 
 
 Taylor, Bavard, 2S1. 
 
 Taylor, Orville J., 898. 
 
 Teachers, training of, 897; associations of, 897; conventions 
 
 of, 393. 
 Teachers' institutes, 899. 
 Teaching, works on, 397. 
 
 Telegraph, the, introduction and extension of, 133; use of. by 
 newspapers, 803; principles of, and apparatus for, 308 et 
 seq. ; lines of, 313 ; the Atlantic, history of, 314. 
 Telegraphing, charges for, 314. 
 Temperance reform, the, 260. 
 Tennessee, iron mines and furnaces of, 28; copper mines of, 
 
 50; gold mines of, 70; zinc in. 97; banks in, 207. 
 Territories, the, surveys and sales of land in, 169. 
 Theologians, colonial, 274. 
 Theological schools, 893 ; table of, 454. 
 Thevenet, Dr., account of iridium gathering by, 110. 
 Thomas Iron Company, description of the furnaces of, 84. 
 Thompson, Laimt, sculptor, 828. 
 Ticknor, Elisha, 899. 
 Tidioute Island Oil Company, 163. 
 Tight-lacing, 258. 
 Tin, alloys of, with copper, 63; sources and uses of, 119-20; 
 
 alloys with, 120; sheet, preparation of, 120. 
 Titusville, Pennsylvania, petroleum at, 162; operations at, 
 
 163. 
 Tomatoes, introduction of, 252. 
 
 Torrey, Prof. John, analysis of zinc ores by, 93. 
 
 ToUd abstinence si>cieties, origin of, 260. 
 
 Trade, progress of, between the East and "West, 170 ; con- 
 struction of lines of communication for, 171 ; course oi^ 
 175; of the lakes, 178. 
 
 Trade sales of books. 265. 
 
 Training, mental and corporeal, 334. 
 
 Travel, importance of facilities for, 260. 
 
 Travelers' Insurance Company of Hartford, 227. 
 
 Trexler, B., anthracite stoves made by. 248. 
 
 Trimming nuichine, book and pai)er, 270 (illustration), 272. 
 
 Trinidad, petroleum and as|>haltum in, 161. 
 
 Trinity School, New York, origin of the, 847, 
 
 Trouncing in school, how performed, 390. 
 
 Trowsers, introduction of, by the Duke of "Wellington, 257. 
 
 Troy, iron foundries of, 86. 
 
 Trumbull, Colonel John, career and paintings of, 319. 
 
 Tuomey, M.. on iron ore in South ('arolina, 28. 
 
 Tuscarora, Pa., cidliery slope and breaker at, picture of, oppo- 
 site 139; account of, l42, 144. 
 
 Type-founding, process of, 293; machine for. 293. 
 
 Type-revolvini: press, the, construction and operation ot, 
 233 ; illustrations of, 29^-3. 
 
INDEX 
 
 581 
 
 Types, sizes of. 29S; prnportions of. in fonts, 299; cases fur, 
 
 and setting of, 2S9 ; copper-facing of, 301. 
 Type-setting luachines, 299. 
 
 T'lster lead mine, copper from the, 49. 
 
 rister count}', is'. Y., lead mines of, S'2. 
 
 Union Consolidated Mining Company. 50, 51. 
 
 United States, tiie,odvantai:es of, fur iron manufacture. 19; 
 coal-fields of, 124; table of gasworks in, 14"; table uf 
 coal-oil works in, ir>l; total imports of, 192; ininiiLrra- 
 tion into, 230; comparative number of readers in, 202. 
 
 Tnited States Bank. See Bank. 
 
 I'nitfd States Military Academy, 460, 
 
 Uiiitrd States Zinc Ci)niiiaiiy. ll)(j. 
 
 Universal Life Insurance Company. 227. 
 
 University of Pennsylvania, origin of, 349. 
 
 U^her, Ilezekiah and John, early booksellers of Costnn, 203. 
 
 Tulle's lead mine, Missouri, 86. 
 
 Vunderlyn, John, career and paintings of, 820. 
 
 Van Dyke, Dr. U. M., guld-mming of, in Georgia, 70, 
 
 Vassar Female College. 4itr). 
 
 Venango county, I'a., petrideura in, 1G2. 
 
 Ventilation of bnildinj^s, 24S-9. 
 
 Vermont, iron mint's and furnaces of, 24; copper mines of, 
 49; gold mines of, 04; chrDminiu in, US; manganese in, 
 119 ; constitutioniil provision of, for education, 3S6. 
 
 V(.'rp!anck, Gulian C. 2b3. 
 
 Vietiniii, Queen, zinc statue of, 103. 
 
 Aii-ille Montague zinc mines and works. 100. 
 
 Vinci-nt de Paul, instructiun of idiots by, 4-13. 
 
 Virginia, early mining industry in. 17 ; irun ores and furnaces 
 of, 28; copper mines of, 49 ; shipments of ores from, 5U ; 
 gold mines of, 03, 04; lead mines of, 8=3: bituminous coal- 
 lield of, 129; petroleum in, 167; banks in, 20S; early 
 schools in, 337; colonial legislation of, upon schools, ;^1 ; 
 ' first general school law in, 342 ; account of an old field 
 schod in, 377. 
 
 Virginia Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, 436. 
 
 Vitreous copper ore, 4S. 
 
 "Waldo & Jewett, portrait painters, 822. 
 
 AA'alker, Parker & Co.^s product of silver from lead, 91. 
 
 "U'ar b«>oks. trreat sales of, 267. 
 
 "V\'are, William, works of. 2S2. 
 
 "Warner. Miss Emily, works of, 2?5. 
 
 Warwick or Jont-s* iron mine, the, 26. 
 
 W^ishiui^ton, iloudon's statue of, 320; extract from, upon ed- 
 ucation, 352. 
 
 Washington Cullege, Maryland, origin of, 34S. 
 
 Washington countv. Mo,, iron-smelting in, 31. 
 
 Wa^hinL'ton gold mine, North <'arolina, 69, 84,115. 
 
 Washin-ton itr^.'^.s. the, 2s7; jtieture of. 2S9. 
 
 Washiuglon's FaiL-urll Address, manuscript of, 301. 
 
 Washoe silver mines, 115, 116. 
 
 Washstinds, movable and fixed. 251. 
 
 Waterbury, Conn., brass manufacture at, 62. 
 
 Wat(-r-cure, introduction of the, 201. 
 
 Water gas, manufactur.i and introduction of, 152. 
 
 Wuli-rhouse, Dr., vaccine inoculation introduced by, 2G0. 
 
 Water-works in cities, introduction of, 249. 
 
 Watkinson, David, library founded by, 427. 
 
 "Watson, John, portrait painter. 316. 
 
 Waverlcy n<jvels, effect of the. upon the book trade, 264. 
 
 Waviand, Francis, works of, 2S2. 
 
 Weitlth, what constitutes, 200. 
 
 AVebster, Daniel, Speeches of, 277; extract from, upon educa- 
 tion in New England, 853. 
 
 Webster. Noah, account of schools and educatitm in New 
 England by, 845; observations of, upon a liberal policy 
 of education, 352 ; upon the early state of common schools 
 (letter), 355; upon errors in education. 355-6. 
 
 "Webster's Elementary Spelling-book aud Dictionary, publi- 
 
 cation and. influence of. 203, 264; aggregate sale of, 267; 
 Spelling Hook, specimens of, 4=16-19. 
 
 Weir, Kohert W., painter. 823. 
 
 Welby, Mrs. Amelia B., 286. 
 
 Welland canal, construction of the, 179; and railway, effect 
 of. upon the trade of Iluffalo, Oswego, and Cleveland. 176. 
 
 Wellington, Duke of, trowsers, frock-coats, and boots intro- 
 duced by, 257- S, 
 
 Wells, petroleimi, the bonng of, 164-5; pipes for, 166. 
 
 Wells, John, printing-press inventor, 287. 
 
 West, the. coal-fields of, 124, 133; surveys and sales of land 
 in, 169; early trade and settlement of, 170; effects of 
 speculation in, 172; can.als in, 172; railroads in. 173; 
 railroads, population, and corn crop of, 1850 and 1857, 174 
 (table); importance of corn to, 175; use of agriculturai 
 machinery in, 175. 
 
 West, Benjamin, career of, 317; chief pictures of, 81S. 
 
 West, William E., painter. 820. 
 
 West Point, Military Academy at, 395. 
 
 Whalinu' business, di-ciine of the, 154. 
 
 Wttherill, Sanuu.-!, manufacture of zinc by, 99, 104. 
 
 White, Edwin, painter, 325. 
 
 Whitefiehi, George, Oi"i)han Ilouse in Georgia founded by, 
 350, 445. 
 
 Wharton. .Tuse[ih, manufacture of zinc by, 99. 
 
 Wlu^atU-y lead mine, Pennsylvania, S3. 
 
 Wheaton, Ilenrv, work of. on international law. 276. 
 
 Wheelock. Dr., "first jiresident of Dartmouth College, 845. 
 
 White lead, manufacture and uses of, 94 ;adulteration of, 95; 
 works, table of, 96. 
 
 Whittier, John Greenleaf, career and works of, 281. 
 
 Wisrs, former use of. 257. 
 
 Wiibraham, Mass., Methodist Conference Seminary at, 405. 
 
 Wilbur, Dr. H. B., 443. 
 
 Wilkcsharre, open coal-mines at, picture, opposite 137; ac- 
 count of, 144. 
 
 Willard, Mrs. Eumia,works of, 2S4 ; the female seminary of, 405. 
 
 William and Mary t'ollege, foundation of, 342. 
 
 Williams, Mr., painter, 817. 
 
 Willis, N. P., career and works of, 2S0. 
 
 Willson's "School and I-'amily Readers," specimens of, 420-21. 
 
 Windham County Teachers' Convention, S9S. 
 
 Windows, weights and catches for, 247. 
 
 Winthrop, Governor, mining grant to, 17. 
 
 Winthrop, John, mineral specimens collected by, IS. 
 
 Wire, iron, manufacture and uses of, 41; brass, 62. 
 
 Wirt, William, works of, 270. 
 
 Wisconsin, iron mines and furnaces of, 30; lead mines of, 84; 
 banks in, 206. ' 
 
 Wood, manufacture of pas from, 152 ; for engraving, 332. 
 
 Wood's chrome mine, 118. 
 
 Woodworth, William, planing machine introduced by, 247. 
 
 Worcester, Mass., wire made at, 41. 
 
 Writers, American, 274; female, list of, 2S5. 
 
 Wrought iron, mauufactur'e of, 36; plans for the direct pi>o- 
 duction of, 37. ■ 
 
 Wyoming region, the coal produced in, 1829-1800, 134. 
 
 Wythe lead mine, Virginia, S3. 
 
 Tale College, foundation of, 344; Scientific School of, 400. 
 
 Yankee curiosity, useful results of, 262. 
 
 "Yankee Notions," the, 307. 
 
 Yellow metal, Muntz's, 61. 
 
 Y'oung, James, manufacture of coal oil by, 154. 
 
 Zaffre, ore of cobalt, 117. 
 
 Zinc, use of, in coating iron, 40; in br.aes-making, 62; ores of, 
 96; mines of, 97; metallurgical treatment of, 99; impu- 
 rities of, 99-100 ; Eurojiean manufacture of, 101 ; total 
 production and consumption of, 102 ; uses of^ 108; manu- 
 facture of white oxide of. 108. 
 
 Zinc paint, manufacture of. 103; American process of mak- 
 ing, 104-5 ; cost of, 100 ; importance of, 106. 
 
EXTRACTS FROM COMMENDATIONS. 
 
 The following Testimonials must convince 
 the most sceptical person of the merits of 
 this work. We do not remember of ever 
 seeing a list of names attached to any pub- 
 lication in this country whose opinions are 
 entitletl to more confidence. They were 
 not given hastily, without examination, as 
 it required about one year to obtain them. 
 
 PUBLISHERS. 
 
 No. 1. 
 
 From A. Jackson, D. D., President Hobart College, OeneTa. 
 I have examined, as far as time would allow, 
 your new work. I think it a very convenient book 
 of reference, and a valualile addition to our statis- 
 tical knowledge. I have .already found it a very 
 useful work to consult, and I gladly add it to our 
 College Library, where it well desenes a place. 
 
 Kg. 2. 
 
 From C. Nott, B. D., President of the Indiana State Uni- 
 versity, Bloomingtou, Ind. 
 
 I htive examined your recently published work 
 and from the examination I have been able to give 
 it, I believe that it merits richly the highest com- 
 mendation. The great variety and importance of 
 the subjects, the felicitous style in whicb they are 
 clothed, and tbcir numerou.s and beautiful illustra- 
 tions, render this work peculiarly attractive. They 
 embrace subjects of great and universal utility, and 
 deeply interesting to all classes of community. 
 Every profession and calling in life is here exhib- 
 ited, with the latest improvements in every dcpart- 
 mect of industry and art. 
 
 No. 3. 
 
 From the President of the Wesleyan University, Middletown, 
 Conn. 
 
 I have exatnined with much pleasure and profit 
 your new work. It contains a great amount and 
 variety of information, |U'intcd in an attractive 
 style on subjects of the highest importance. It is 
 eminently a practical work, and brings within the 
 reach of all, stores of knowledge heretofore inac- 
 cessible to most readers. The novelty of the title, 
 the great truths illustrated and established, give it 
 increased attractiveness and usefulness. 
 
 No. 4. 
 From President of Girard College, Philadelphia, Pa. 
 Dear Sir, — I have been interested and instructed 
 by the perusal of your national work, for a copy of 
 which I am indebted to your courtesy. 
 
 An illustrated history of the various branches of 
 industry and art in the United States, jjrepared 
 with the ability and truthfulness which character- 
 
 izes this work, will he highly acceptable to all 
 classes of readers. In its artistic and mechanical 
 execution, nothing has been left to be desired. 1 
 am not acquainted with any work in which so 
 much reliable information on so great variety of 
 subjects may be found in so small a compass. It is 
 emphatically a book for the people. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 William H. Allen. 
 
 No. 5. 
 
 From the President of Genesee College. 
 Lima, November 6, 
 With as much care as my time would allow, I 
 have examined the work published by Mr. Stebbins. 
 It contains a large amount of valuable information, 
 in jtist the form to be circulated widely among „ha 
 )ieople. It is in fact a brief and interesting history 
 of our progress as a nation, in both science and tha 
 arts. I am willing that my name and influenca 
 should aid in its circulation. 
 
 J. MOKRISON BeED. 
 I fully concur in the above. 
 
 James L. Alvison, 
 Professor in Genesee College. 
 
 No. G. 
 From the President of Marietta College, Ohio. 
 
 Dear Sir, — The work on the " Development of the 
 United States " was received by mail a few days 
 since. I have given what attention I could to it, 
 and write you now, as I am expecting to be absent 
 from home for some days. 
 
 The examination of this work has given me 
 much pleasure. The idea of furnishing this most 
 valuable knowledge in a comparatively small com- 
 pass, was a most happy one. As a people we want 
 information — reliable intbrmation. We need to 
 know our own history, in art and science, as well as 
 in government. The people of one section should 
 know how tliose of others live — the progress of one 
 should lie made known to all. 
 
 The idea of the work you have undertaken seems 
 to have been well carried out, as well aji ha])i)ily 
 conceived. On a great variety of topics, in which 
 all the ])eople are interested, you have furnished a 
 Large amount of valuable information. All, except 
 those of the lowest grade of intelligence, will avail 
 themselves of the 0])portinuty to secure this work, 
 and, unlike many books, the more it is exam- 
 ined the more valuable will it seem. I anticipate 
 for it a wide circulation. 
 
 No. 7. 
 
 From the President of the University of Rochester, N. T. 
 
 I have looked over, somewhat hastily, your new 
 
 work. The plan seems to me excellent, the idea of 
 
 presenting in a short compilation the present state 
 
COMMENDATIONS. 
 
 583 
 
 and rate of progress of the various iiuiustvia! arts 
 is one which can not fail to be thought worthy. In 
 general, the work seems to be successfully and cor- 
 rectly done. 
 
 No. 8. 
 From Preaident Read, University of 'U'iseonsia. 
 I h.'ivc examined, with a pleasure I can hardly 
 express in too strong terms, your new work on the 
 United States. During the few days the work luis 
 been on my table it has saved me, in the examina- 
 tion of facts, labor worth many times tlie cost of 
 tlie volume. For the school library, the business 
 man, tlie scholar, or the intelligent family, it will be 
 found a cyelopiedia presenting, in a most interest- 
 ing form, the progress of the various arts of civi- 
 lized life during the period of our national exist- 
 ence. I most heartily recommend the work. 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 Daniel Read. 
 
 describe, but one who, like myself, can recognize 
 tlie history of half the period, can testify to the 
 faithfulness and fullness of your exhibition of the 
 growth and power of this great country. 
 Very I'espectfully yours, 
 
 0. r. HUBBAED. 
 
 No. 9. 
 
 From the President of Columbia College, N. Y. 
 
 Sir, — I thank you for the copy of your work 
 on the " Progress of the United States," published 
 by you. 
 
 ft seems to me of great value as containing 
 inlijriiiation of interest, more or less, to all, and 
 not easily accessible, except to varied labor and 
 research. 
 
 The idea, too, of illustrating national progress, 
 not by war, nor annexation, nor diplomatic legerde- 
 main" but by the advance in the institutions of 
 learning, in useful iriveutions, in the growth of 
 manufactures, agriculture, and commerce, in all the 
 arts of peace, m morals and civilization, in the 
 inner life, so to speak, of the people themselves, 
 seems to me both original and founded in the true 
 notion of jirogress. 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 C'H. King, 
 Pres. of Columbia College. 
 
 Mr. Stebbins. 
 
 No. 12. 
 
 From the President of "Williams* College. 
 Dear Sir, — I have no hesitation in saying that 
 the work proposed to be done has been well done. 
 For those who wish a book of the kind, yours can- 
 not fail to be Ihe book. 
 
 Respectfully yours, 
 
 Makk Hopkins. 
 Mr. L. Stebbins. 
 
 No. 1.3. 
 From Pres. Woolset, Yale College, New Hayen, Conn. 
 
 Yale College, Nov. 1."), 
 Mr. L. Stebbins ; Dear Sir, — Your book is a 
 good and useful one, but it is not my practice to 
 recommend books. 
 
 Y'our obedient serv.ant, 
 
 T. D. Woolset. 
 
 No. 14. 
 College of New Jersey, ) 
 Princeton, Jan. 28, ) 
 
 Dear Sir : — Your work I regard as a valuable 
 publication, richly meriting the attention of the 
 general reader, as well as the more careful examin- 
 ation of the student interested in observing the 
 advancement of our country in the useful arts and 
 learning. Very respectfully yours, 
 
 John McLean. 
 L. Stebbins, Esq. 
 
 No. 10. 
 
 From the President of Tvifts College. 
 Jamtart/ 27, 
 Mr. Stebbins : Dear Sir, — I was led to expect 
 much from the title of your work, and resolved to 
 give it a careful examination. I have been richly 
 repaid for the time thus spent, in the great pleas- 
 ure and profit I have derived from its perusal. 
 Heartily thanking you for this generous contribu- 
 tion to generous knowledge, I trust you may reap a 
 rich reward for your ciforts. 
 
 John P. AIaeshall. 
 
 No. 11. 
 
 From the President of Dartmouth College. 
 January 20, 
 
 L. Stebbins, Esq. : Dear Sir,-^\ received some 
 davs ago your very handsome work, but have found 
 leisure onlv within a day or two to examine its 
 contents. Those persons who have been longest 
 on the stage can best appreciate the amazing con- 
 trasts in the state of the country which you 
 
 No. 15. 
 From Rev. Dr. Smith, Lane Theological Seminary, Ohio. 
 Mit. L. Stebbins : Mi/ Dear Sir, — I have run 
 my eves with great interest over your beautiful 
 work" It contains, in a condensed yet attractive 
 Ibrm, a mass of information touching the progress 
 and present condition of our country. It is, more- 
 over, inlbrmation, of which every man, at some 
 lime, feels the need ; and it would be a grand con- 
 tribution both to the intelligence and patriotism of 
 our whole population, if you could succeed in 
 ])laeing a copy of it in every family of the land. I 
 shall place your book on my table for constant ref- 
 erence. 
 
 Wishing you all success in your enterprise, 
 I am very truly yours, 
 Henry Smith, 
 Prof. Ch., Hist, and Sac. Rhetoric. 
 
 No. 16. 
 
 From Profeipor Fom.™, of Amherst College. Editor of the 
 Vniversity Edition of Webster's Dictionary, Series of Clas- 
 sical Books, etc. 
 
 The work which vou placed in my hands I h.ive 
 taken time to examine, in order that I might learn 
 its intrinsic value. I find that the subjects selected 
 are such, and the manner of treatment such, as to 
 sui.nlv a felt want in the public mind, winch, in its 
 own pro<'rcss, was demanding higher and better 
 
584 
 
 COMMENDATIONS. 
 
 help than it ciijovetl before the puMieation of j-our 
 work. Tills niijrlit be inferred from the liare men- 
 tion of the subjeets and the authors. These sub- 
 jects are treated by tliese writers with that correct- 
 ness of the statement of the general principles, and 
 with that fulness of detail which make the work 
 just what it ought to be as a guide to the people. 
 Every young man who wishes to elevate his mind 
 by self-culture, ought to read this work carefully. 
 Yours resijeetfuUy, 
 
 William C. Powlek. 
 
 No. 17. 
 
 From Profes.sor B. SrLLl.M.\N, Yale College, New IlaTen, Ct. 
 I have carefully looked through your rich and 
 foithfid work, observing the co])ious tal>lcsof con 
 tents, glaiicing at every page of the work, and at 
 all the numerous illustrations, with occasional 
 reading of paragraphs. A more thorough c.xamin 
 ation it has not been hitherto in my pcjwer to make ; 
 but even this general survey has left on my mind 
 the decided conviction that you have performed an 
 important service to j'our country in thus mapping 
 out and condensing and explaining the wonderful 
 progress made in this country, in all the most impor- 
 tant arts of life. B. Sillman. 
 
 No. 18. 
 From the Secretary of Boanl of Traile, Philadelpliia. 
 L. Stebbins, Esq. : Dear Sir, — I examined with 
 interest the volume published by you, and found it 
 particularly valuable. The design struck me very 
 favoraiily, and the execution of the several parts 
 could not have been intrusti'd to more competent 
 hands. The last one hundred years of the history of 
 the United States has been one of unexampled prog- 
 ress, and it is now more than ever inijjortant to 
 bring in review before the i)eople of every section 
 the leading facts of this marvelous progress. 
 Very respectfully yours, 
 
 LoRix Blodget. 
 
 No. 19. 
 From the Secretary of the Board of Trade, Boston. 
 
 My Dear Sir, — I h.ave found time to acquaint 
 myself with the general topics and objects of the 
 work, and do not hesitate to declare that I have not 
 read nnn-e intei'csting pages for years. Indeed, the 
 best intbrracd among us, cannot, as it seems tome, 
 foil to find much that is new, while to the young 
 and to those who lack the means of research, so 
 authentic and well-digested arcount of our coun- 
 try's " Progress," will be of immense service. We 
 all boast of our wonderful march in commerce, in 
 manufactures, in mechanics, and in the arts ; and 
 here we have it, step by step, in " facts and figui'es," 
 and in brief and pithy narrative. 
 
 With all my he.irt I hope that the sale will be 
 extensive, and that you mav be well rewarded for 
 your outlay of time and capital. 
 
 Very truly, your friend, 
 
 IjORKSZO S.IBINE. 
 
 L. Stebbins, Esq., Hartford, Cona. 
 
 No. 20. 
 
 From Wm. W. Turver, Prinrip:il of the American Asylum 
 
 for Deaf aod Dumb, Hartford, Coun. 
 
 I have examined your new national work on the 
 "United States," and find that the iuformatioa it 
 
 contains on the wide range of sidijects treated of 
 must make it cxce^'dingly valuable as a standard 
 hook of refcircnce. The names of the writers of 
 the dirt'erent articles afford a sulHclent guaranty 
 that the facts and statements may be relied on a's 
 correct. I consider the work a very important 
 accession to this deiiartment (vf literature, and have 
 no doubt that it will tind its way into the liljrary of 
 every private gentleman and every public institu- 
 tion. Very truly yours, 
 
 Wm. W. TnKNER. 
 
 No. 21. 
 
 From John D. Philbricic, Superintendent; Common Schools, 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 I have examined your work with great satisfac- 
 tion. I consider it a work of great value, and it is 
 one which I should lie very unwilling to spare from 
 my library. It is not only such a Ijook as the liter- 
 ary or professional man woidd like to possess, but 
 it is a liook for every household, and for every 
 school library. Very truly yours, 
 
 John D. Piiilbkick. 
 
 No. 22. 
 From the Secretary of Board of Kduc.ation. 
 Boston, Mass., Sc/>t. 6, 
 
 Dear Sir, — I beg leave to thank you for your 
 noble work. 
 
 After such an ex.amination as I h.ave been able to 
 give, I do not hesitate to pronounce it a work of 
 unusital interest and value. 
 
 As a depository of facts illustrative of the prog- 
 ress of our country in tbcdeiiartmeiits of industry, 
 it is invaluable. 
 
 Its wide circulation, at tills eventful period, can. 
 not fail to arou.se and deepen that piatriotic love of 
 our institutions which is the jiressing demand of 
 the hour. KcspeetfuUy yours, 
 
 J. WllITE. 
 
 L. Stebbins, Esq. 
 
 No. 23. 
 
 From S. S. Easdall, City Superintendent Public Schools, 
 New Vorlc. 
 
 Mr. L. Stebbins : Dear Sir, — The great press 
 of official engagements has hitherto prevented my 
 acknowledgment of the reeeijit of the very In-anti- 
 ful and interesting work published by you. I have 
 not had time to peruse them thoroughly, but take 
 great pleasm-e in stating that, so far as I have 
 looked into them, tlie ]dan aiul general execution 
 of the work seem to me to 1« admirable, and well 
 adapted to the wants, as well of the rising genera- 
 tion, as of our fellow-citizens generally. I cheer- 
 fully recommend it to the favorable regard of school 
 officers, parents, teachers, and others, as a very val- 
 uable compend of scientific and historical knowl- 
 ilge, and as a work well worthy of a place in every 
 school or private library. 
 
 No. 24. 
 From R. G.Dana, Mercantile .\gency. New Yorft. 
 From a cursory glance at its contents I feci war- 
 ranted in saving It possesses information of much 
 value and usefulness to all classes. 
 
 Very respectfully, R. G. Dana. 
 
COMMENDATIONS. 
 
 585 
 
 No. 2.'). 
 From B. J. T os>:ng, tlio Historian. 
 
 Sir, — I Iiave cxaniincil, witli great satisfaction 
 your work. It is a wovlc of inestimable value to 
 those who desire to know, in minute detail, some- 
 thing more of the history of tlie country than the 
 events of its political and industrial lite as exhib- 
 ited in the politician's manual, and the bold state- 
 ments of the census; especially at this time, when 
 the civilized world is eagerly asking what we are 
 and what we have been, that the old governments 
 may attempt to solve the more imixjrtant ciuestion, 
 to them, what we will lie. Your work, in fact and 
 logical prophecy, furnishes an answer of which any 
 people may be justly proud. Surely, no nation of 
 tlie earth has ever experienced such bounding 
 progress as this. No American can peruse your 
 pages without feeling grateful for the privilege of 
 being an American citizen. 
 
 I will use a very trite phrase and say, with all 
 sincerity, I wish your work could go "into everj' 
 family in our land," to increase their knowlege and 
 to strengthen their patriotism. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 BliNSON J. Lossixo. 
 
 agriculture, commerce, and trade ; very little that 
 develops the material prosperity of a country, and 
 marks its growth, has escaped their industrious 
 research. Undoubtedly, minute criticism might 
 detect slight errors, but in a work of so compre- 
 hensive a character, strict accuracy would seem 
 almost nnattainalilc. The statistics given arc full 
 and clearly arranged ; the grouping of the subjects, 
 and the evident method which the authors have 
 observed in the accomi)Iishment of their not incon- 
 siderable task, are worthy of all praise. The work 
 is one whicli wo particularly need, as it is a 
 lamentable fact that few people are so deficient in 
 general knowledge of facts relative to growth and 
 development of their native country, as ours. The 
 Englishman generally has an arsenal of statistics 
 at his 5ngers' ends; he can tell you when the first 
 shaft was sunk in the first mine; when the first 
 loom was erected in Manchester. The panojdv of 
 facts in which he is arrayed makes him rather a 
 ponderous and far from s])rightly comijanion, at 
 times ; but tlien he always proves formidable as an 
 adversary. Germans, too, have nearly evervthiug 
 by rote that relates to their own country. 
 
 No. 26. 
 Office of Superiatendent of t'ul>lic Schools, Chicago. 
 The work which you have ])repared with so much 
 care and labor, presenting the p.-ogress of our 
 country, is peculiarly adapted to gratifv and instruct 
 all classes of citizens. No work could be offered to 
 the public at the present time m(tre worthy of a 
 place in family libraries, and school libraries, than 
 the one which you now present. 
 
 Yours truly, TV. H. Wklls, 
 
 Sup. of Public Schools. 
 
 No. 27. 
 
 From Isaac Ferris, D. D., Chancellor of the University in 
 
 New York. 
 
 I have looked into the work and am happy to 
 
 unite with the worthy men who have examined it, 
 
 in commending it to my friends. 
 
 New York. Isaac Ferris. 
 
 No. 2S. 
 From J. M. Mathews, D. D., Ex-Chancellor of the Univer- 
 sity in New York. 
 The object of the work is highly commendable ; 
 and, so far as I have been able to examine it, has 
 been executed with ability aiul fidelity. I freely 
 commetid it to public patronage. 
 
 New York. J. JI- JIatiiews. 
 
 No. 29. 
 From Prof. E. W, Hosford, of Cambridge University. 
 It is a work of very great value for popular ref- 
 erence. The articles having been prepared by 
 writers who have made specialties of the subjects 
 U]X)n which they have written, are, as a consequence, 
 eminently attractive. I find them an unfailing 
 source of valuable information and important sug- 
 gestion. 
 
 No. 30. 
 From the New Y'ork Times. 
 If at all inclined to doubt that a great deal of 
 u.seful information may l)e hound u]i in a compara- 
 tively small compass "by a judicious comiiiler, in 
 the very handsome work before us, we should find 
 sufficient logic to make us devout believers. The 
 writers have ranged through the wild fields of 
 
 No. 31. 
 From the New Englander, New Haven, Conn. 
 In this very large octavo work there is presented 
 in a compact and easily accessible form an amount 
 of valualile information with regard to the progress 
 which the people of the United States have made 
 in all the various channels of industry since the 
 days wlicn they were British colonists, whicli is not 
 to be found in any other single work witli which 
 we are acijuainted. Each one of these subjects 
 is amjily illustrated with engravings. The ditfcr- 
 ent chapters have been prepared by well-known 
 literaiT men who have each mailo the subjects 
 about which they have written the study of years. 
 We have examined the work repeatedly and with 
 much care during the past three months, and each 
 time have been impressed anew with its value. 
 There is not an intelligent fomily in the nation who 
 would not be interested and instructed by it, and 
 find it a most convenient book of reference with 
 regard to everything pertaining to the industrial 
 interests of the country. 
 
 No. 32. 
 
 From the Eo.iton Transcript. 
 This work is the result of much careful research, 
 exercised by many minds on a variety of imjiort- 
 ant subjects. They show the industrial and educa- 
 tional steps by which the people of the United 
 States have risen from their colonial comlition to 
 to their present position among the nations of the 
 world. They give, in a historical form, the ])rog- 
 ress of the country in agriculture, conimi rce, 
 trade, banking, manufactures, machinery, modes 
 of travel and transportation, and the work is 
 intended to he sold by subscription, and will 
 doubtless have a large circulation. It ought to be 
 in every house in the land. It is more important 
 than ordinary histories of the country, as it exhib- 
 its all the triumphs of the practical mind and 
 energy of the nation, in every department of sci- 
 ence, art, and benevolence. It is a storehouse of 
 important and stimulating facts, and its interest 
 can hardly be exhausted by the most persistent 
 reader. 
 
TABLES OF POPULATION. 
 
 TABLE OF THE POPULATIOX, 
 VALUATION OF REAL AND PERSONAL ESTATE, CAPITAL INVESTED IN MANUFACTURES, TRADE, AND COMMERCE IN EACH OF THE 
 
 STATES OP THE UNION. 
 
 r^^*^M., manufacturing capital ; T., capital employed in trade ; C, capital employed in commerce by land and sea. 
 The valuations' are generally actual, and not assessment valuation. K not correct, they are from the best data and au- 
 thority available. 
 
 Maine 
 
 New Hampshire 
 
 Yermoat 
 
 Massachusetts 
 
 Khode Island 
 
 ('onnecticut 
 
 New York 
 
 New Jersey 
 
 Pennsylvania 
 
 Delaware 
 
 Maryland 
 
 Virginia 
 
 "n'est Virginia 
 
 North Carolina 
 
 .South Caroliua 
 
 Georgia 
 
 Florida 
 
 Alabama 
 
 Rlississippi 
 
 Louisiana 
 
 Texas 
 
 Arkansas 
 
 Tennessee 
 
 Kentucky 
 
 Ohio 
 
 Indiana 
 
 Illinois 
 
 Miji.snuri 
 
 Kans:is 
 
 Nebraska 
 
 Iowa 
 
 Michigan 
 
 Wisconsin 
 
 Minnesota 
 
 Nevada 
 
 California 
 
 Oregon 
 
 District of Columbia. 
 Territories 
 
 Population by 
 census of 
 1870. 
 
 Valuation of real 
 estate in 1870. 
 
 620,423 
 317,710 
 3-30,582 
 ,457,351 
 217,3.50 
 637,886 
 ,730,840 
 903,044 
 ,.511,543 
 175,015 
 790,095 
 ,211,442 
 441,943 
 ,016,954 
 705,789 
 ,174 836 
 183.995 
 996,175 
 843,056 
 731,420 
 795,501 
 486,103 
 ,2.58,326 
 ,323,264 
 ,675,468 
 ,668469 
 ,567,036 
 ,725,658 
 379,49 
 116,888 
 ,181,359 
 ,184,653 
 ,0.55,.5Ol 
 424,543 
 
 44,686 
 656,208 
 
 90,878 
 131,701: 
 298,3J7 
 
 38,881,231 
 
 L 
 
 V^aluation of per- Capital invested in manufac- 
 sonal estate in tures, trade, or commerce, in 
 1870. 1870. 
 
 $219,666,.504 
 160,315,680 
 138,627,143 
 
 1,038,083,415 
 2.33,758,000 
 312,574 408 
 
 2,632,720,907 
 573,000,000 
 
 1,046,732,062 
 
 47 ,.385,614 
 
 308,.891,449 
 
 885,000,000 
 
 98,730,000 
 
 293,837,993 
 
 358,785,191 
 
 386,129,231 
 
 li; 329 10''. 
 
 327..-,i"i.iii"i 
 
 107, (I'll 1. 1 lull 
 
 317,612,583 
 
 298,163,231 
 
 86,297,123 
 
 276,163,137 
 
 329,213,742 
 
 1,607,418,203 
 937,201,283 
 
 1,346,587,734 
 805,893,166 
 69,125,000 
 24,160,000 
 322 ,.561,061 
 387,246,129 
 
 3:o,(Xio,ooi) 
 
 171,1.55.000 
 19,360,000 
 
 217,8.55,933 
 29,830,117 
 83,127,841 
 79,184,S:i 
 
 $169,0.37,423 
 123,711,143 
 
 85,744,027 
 803,0S5,9,S8 
 
 55,433.713 
 
 135,380,760 
 
 2,434,270,278 
 
 278,000,01)0 
 
 346,891,498 
 
 20,185,693 
 327,937,008 
 
 85,000,000 
 
 41,000,000 
 188,931,290 
 219,681,837 
 267,825,641 
 
 15,447,630 
 125..'ii II 1,1 11)11 
 
 4;i, 3^0.11110 
 294,861,247 
 159,328,216 
 127 ,'^61 ,326 
 168,237,191 
 271.864 165 
 9.59.702,262 
 307,130,625 
 342,407,041 
 497,487,635 
 
 31,285,000 
 
 30,.S95,796! 
 171971,191: 
 183,284,721 
 138,000,000 
 
 29,387,000! 
 
 14,287,0001 
 128,725,471 
 
 19,187,323 
 
 49,287,6061 
 
 52,829,613 
 
 M, 
 
 §48,000,000 
 
 M, 
 
 63,.500,tl00 
 
 M, 
 
 37,823,000 
 
 M, 
 
 25O,lX)0,0i.)0 
 
 M, 
 
 45,000,0;)0 
 
 M, 
 
 166.800,(11 10 
 
 C&M, 
 
 3,2(10,000.1100 
 
 ■^I, 
 
 135,00(),O(j0 
 
 C & M, 
 
 1,320,000,000 
 
 M. 
 
 16,550,0u0 
 
 .M & C, 
 
 117,600,000 
 
 M & T, 
 
 80.230,000 
 
 C, 
 
 28,000,000 
 
 M, 
 
 15,000 000 
 
 M&T, 
 
 35,500,000 
 
 M & T, 
 
 61,325,0IM 
 
 M & C, 
 
 13,0011,000 
 
 .M & C, 
 
 45,000,000 
 
 M & T, 
 
 21,30il,IX)0 
 
 '', 
 
 48,000,000 
 
 M & T, 
 
 27,480,000 
 
 M & T, 
 
 13,287,010 
 
 M & T, 
 
 79,500.000 
 
 T, 
 
 256,000,000 
 
 *'» 
 
 2,.300,000,000 
 
 U, 
 
 l,4ll(i,li(li),(iiiO 
 
 0, 
 
 2,1)1111. iHiii.MIO 
 
 C &5I, 
 
 l,72;i."(lii.n(0 
 
 T, 
 
 114.000,000 
 
 M, 
 
 (>,60'i,0l.)0 
 
 M&fi, 
 
 325,000,01)0 
 
 C & M, 
 
 387 ,6 12,0 JO 
 
 M, 
 
 32,000,01)) 
 
 M, 
 
 14,831,000 
 
 iM. 
 
 3,925,0 lO 
 
 C & M, 
 
 160 100,000 
 
 M, 
 
 ll,360,0iiO 
 
 M&T 
 
 19,270,000 
 
 M, 
 
 21,362,000 
 
 TABLE OF PRINCIPAL CITIES OF TITS UNITED STATES, 
 
 SHO^^TNG POPIT^-VTION IN ISjO, ISC^, AND 1S70, CAPITAL INVE.STED IX MANUFACTURES, AND AMOUNT OF ANNTJAL PRODUCT IN 
 
 OR NEAR 1870. 
 
 CITIES. 
 
 State. 
 
 Population 
 in 1350. 
 
 Population 
 in 1860, 
 
 Population 
 iu 1870. 
 
 Capit.al invest- 
 ed in manu- 
 f.ictures in or 
 near 1870. 
 
 Annual pro 
 duct. 
 
 
 Maine. 
 Nil. 
 
 Vt. 
 
 Mass. 
 
 20,815 
 
 14,432 
 
 3,.-84 
 
 6,095 
 
 8,225 
 
 13,9.32 
 
 6,820 
 
 9,738 
 
 8,576 
 
 8,196 
 
 6,110 
 
 136,881 
 
 33,333 
 
 17.049 
 
 20,2ii4 
 
 15,215 
 
 16,443 
 
 11 ,.524 
 
 11,760 
 
 17,216 
 
 9,572 
 
 10,441 
 
 14,257 
 
 7,7,86 
 
 26,341 
 16,407 
 
 ' 7,6(i9 
 20,109 
 10,065 
 9,33 . 
 10,896 
 8..302 
 7,713 
 177,812 
 36,827 
 24,960 
 22,262 
 26,060 
 22,300 
 14.026 
 16,199 
 25,063 
 13.401 
 16.376 
 19,083 
 10,904 
 
 30,877 
 18,296 
 13,600 
 10,285 
 
 7,811 
 23,5.36 
 10,643 
 
 9,.305 
 12,241 
 
 9,294 
 14,387 
 250,.52i 
 40,923 
 41,105 
 24.117 
 39,a34 
 21,321 
 26,78; 
 26.70 t 
 28,323 
 13,,595 
 18,629 
 28,233 
 15.389 
 
 §',.500,000 
 
 6,800.000 
 
 0,3 lO.Oi.lu 
 
 3,000,000 
 
 6,000,Ol.K) 
 
 9,640,000 
 
 6,lllO,oOO 
 
 1,500,000 
 
 6,700,000 
 
 3,200,000 
 
 1,725.00(1 
 
 42,000,000 
 
 30,000,1)00 
 
 8,800,000 
 
 3,500,000 
 
 6,000,000 
 
 24,000,000 
 
 13,400,01X1 
 
 8,350,1(00 
 
 7,100.000 
 
 2,750.0IX) 
 
 8,9.50,000 
 
 10,2.50,000 
 
 1,750,0(10 
 
 §13,310,000 
 
 
 12,OiKI.000 
 
 
 11.5Oii,0lH) 
 
 
 7.1100(100 
 
 
 10.5(l0.'lil0 
 
 
 19.9711,000 
 
 
 12,350,01.0 
 
 
 3,100,1 100 
 
 
 10.500,000 
 
 
 6,800.1)1 
 
 
 4,869,000 
 
 
 105.000,000 
 
 
 89.000,0r0 
 
 
 26.000,0110 
 
 
 9, 875, OIK) 
 
 
 14,000,000 
 
 
 37,000.0110 
 
 
 29,600,000 
 
 
 17.284,000 
 
 
 15.250,000 
 
 
 6,01W),000 
 
 
 19.675,0'i0 
 
 Lynn 
 
 Gloucester 
 
 15,1S7,.350 
 4,225.000 
 
TABLES OF POPULATION. ~ 
 
 TAELi: OF PniNCIPAL CITIES OP THE UNITED STATES.— Cost ixued. 
 
 Holyoke 
 
 Lawrrnce. , 
 
 I'roviOt'Uce 
 
 Newport 
 
 NfW Haven. . . . 
 
 Hartford 
 
 Itrid^oport 
 
 Norwich 
 
 Jliiiiiletown 
 
 Nl*w London. . . 
 
 ■\\'aterbury 
 
 Meriden 
 
 N'i'W York 
 
 Brooklyn 
 
 Buffalo 
 
 Albany 
 
 llochester 
 
 Syracuse 
 
 Troy 
 
 Yonkers , 
 
 Oswego 
 
 Hudson 
 
 Utica 
 
 Biuphamton . . . 
 
 Morrisania 
 
 PouglikcL'psie .. 
 
 Cohoes 
 
 IVcwburgh 
 
 Klmira 
 
 Lockport 
 
 Schenectady. . . 
 
 Auburn 
 
 Ogdensburg. . . . 
 
 Newark 
 
 Jersey City. . .. 
 
 Elizabeth 
 
 Paterson 
 
 Uoboken 
 
 Ilahway , 
 
 Trenton 
 
 Kew Brunswick, 
 
 tannleii 
 
 Hudson City. . . 
 Philadelpliia. . . 
 
 Pittsburgh 
 
 Alleghany City. 
 
 Ecranton 
 
 Beading 
 
 Harrisburg 
 
 Erie 
 
 Lancaster 
 
 Wilmington.. . . 
 
 Baltimore 
 
 Cumberland . . . 
 
 Frederick 
 
 Washington.. .. 
 Georgetown. . . . 
 
 Kichmond 
 
 Alexandria . . . . , 
 
 Isorfolk 
 
 Portsmouth . . . 
 
 Petersburg 
 
 Lynchburg 
 
 "Wheeling 
 
 Wilmington.. . , 
 
 Kaleigh 
 
 Jsew-Berne 
 
 Charleston 
 
 Columbia 
 
 Savannah 
 
 Atlanta 
 
 Augusta 
 
 Kev West 
 
 Mobile 
 
 Blontgomery. . . 
 
 Natchez 
 
 Vicksburg 
 
 New Orleans. . . 
 OaWe:?ton . . . .. 
 
 Little Rock 
 
 ^leniphis 
 
 Noshviile 
 
 lInoT\-iUe 
 
 State. 
 
 Population 
 in I860. 
 
 Population 
 io ISliO. 
 
 Population 
 in 1870. 
 
 capital invest- 
 ed in manu- 
 facturesinor 
 near 1870. 
 
 Annual pro- 
 duct. 
 
 Mass. 
 
 3,245 
 
 
 11,000 
 
 $7,186,000 
 
 ?13,267,000 
 
 " 
 
 8.28:i 
 
 
 28,921 
 
 20,000,000 
 
 35,000.001) 
 
 R. I 
 
 41,513 
 
 i)O,0G6 
 
 68,906 
 
 11,837,645 
 
 33,090,994 
 
 
 9,5G3 
 
 10,508 
 
 12,521 
 
 1,500,000 
 
 3,275,000 
 
 Conn. 
 
 20,345 
 
 39,267 
 
 60,840 
 
 12,715,00C 
 
 32,000,000 
 
 " 
 
 13,555 
 
 29,154 
 
 37,180 
 
 13,500,000 
 
 31,300,000 
 
 
 7,0C0 
 
 13,555 
 
 10,876 
 
 6,125.000 
 
 17,500,000 
 
 " 
 
 10,265 
 
 14,048 
 
 10,653 
 
 7,076,000 
 
 18.250,000 
 
 " 
 
 4,211 
 
 
 11,143 
 
 1,77.5,000 
 
 4,000,000 
 
 " 
 
 8,991 
 
 ib,ii5 
 
 9.576 
 
 2,500,000 
 
 4,866.000 
 
 
 6,137 
 
 
 10 826 
 
 8.125,000 
 
 19,385,000 
 
 " 
 
 3,559 
 
 
 10,521 
 
 2,734,000 
 
 8,600,000 
 
 N. Y'. 
 
 515,547 
 
 805,651 
 
 942,310 
 
 179.525,000 
 
 486.125,000 
 
 " 
 
 9(],S3S 
 
 206,601 
 
 S00.300 
 
 65,.5OO,(X)0 
 
 140,225,000 
 
 '* 
 
 42,261 
 
 81,129 
 
 117,715 
 
 27,905,000 
 
 62,836,000 
 
 *• 
 
 60,7G3 
 
 02 .307 
 
 69,412 
 
 18,250,001] 
 
 41.375,000 
 
 u 
 
 36,403 
 
 48,204 
 
 62,3S5 
 
 15,000,000 
 
 28,000 000 
 
 
 22,271 
 
 2^,119 
 
 43,058 
 
 11,871,50C 
 
 29,627,000 
 
 " 
 
 28,785 
 
 39,232 
 
 46,471 
 
 9,000,OOC 
 
 20,000,000 
 
 " 
 
 4,l!j0 
 
 11,843 
 
 18,.318 
 
 1,250,00C 
 
 3,100,000 
 
 " 
 
 12,2.35 
 
 16,817 
 
 20,910 
 
 5,108,OOC 
 
 13,137,000 
 
 " 
 
 6,286 
 
 9,283 
 
 14,1.35 
 
 ],125,fJ0C 
 
 2,760,000 
 
 *' 
 
 17,5135 
 
 22,529 
 
 28,804 
 
 6,225,00r 
 
 14,801,000 
 
 *' 
 
 5,000 
 
 8, .325 
 
 12,862 
 
 2,726,00C 
 
 5,895,000 
 
 " 
 
 , 
 
 9,245 
 
 19,637 
 
 3,184,00C 
 
 7,196,000 
 
 " 
 
 13,9M 
 
 11,723 
 
 20,030 
 
 4,9.32,00C 
 
 10,287,000 
 
 " 
 
 4.223 
 
 7,020 
 
 15,357 
 
 6,560,000 
 
 11,250,000 
 
 " 
 
 11,415 
 
 15,198 
 
 17,014 
 
 3,725,000 
 
 7,810,000 
 
 " 
 
 8,1G3 
 
 8,882 
 
 15,863 
 
 6,817,00C 
 
 14,271,000 
 
 *' 
 
 10,327 
 
 13,533 
 
 li,463 
 
 2,105,00C 
 
 5,125,000 
 
 " 
 
 8,021 
 
 9,579 
 
 11,026 
 
 l,126,OfX 
 
 2,789,000 
 
 " 
 
 9,D48 
 
 10,986 
 
 17,225 
 
 5,075,00C 
 
 12,173,000 
 
 " 
 
 6,500 
 
 7,409 
 
 10,076 
 
 3,187,500 
 
 7,785,000 
 
 N. J. 
 
 38,891 
 
 71,914 
 
 105,078 
 
 25,600,000 
 
 63,623,000 
 
 *' 
 
 C,35S 
 
 29,226 
 
 82,102 
 
 18,650,000 
 
 35,760,000 
 
 " 
 
 6,583 
 
 10,000 
 
 20,383 
 
 1,725,000 
 
 2,850,000 
 
 *' 
 
 11,334 
 
 19,583 
 
 33,512 
 
 17,150,000 
 
 38,.525,000 
 
 " 
 
 2,638 
 
 9,662 
 
 20,234 
 
 3,360,fKXl 
 
 8,200,000 
 
 " 
 
 3,306 
 
 4,785 
 
 6,016 
 
 550,000 
 
 1,050.0IX) 
 
 " 
 
 6,461 
 
 17,228 
 
 22,115 
 
 V,180,0(K1 
 
 15,125.000 
 
 IC 
 
 10,019 
 
 12,1.W 
 
 15,059 
 
 2,785,000 
 
 6,S75,aH) 
 
 " 
 
 9,479 
 
 11,207 
 
 20,046 
 
 6,660,000 
 
 12,175,000 
 
 ** 
 
 
 
 
 18,000 
 
 460,000 
 
 1,750,000 
 
 Pa. 
 
 340,045 
 
 502,529 
 
 674,022 
 
 178.000,000 
 
 495,000,000 
 
 '' 
 
 46,001 
 
 49.217 
 
 86,235 
 
 69,250,000 
 
 141,500,000 
 
 " 
 
 21,201 
 
 28,702 
 
 63.181 
 
 21.300,000 
 
 64,380,000 
 
 « 
 
 
 9,223 
 
 85,093 
 
 2,917,000 
 
 6,285,000 
 
 " 
 
 15,743 
 
 23,101 
 
 a3,932 
 
 9,755,000 
 
 33,124,000 
 
 " 
 
 7,83t 
 
 13,405 
 
 2/3,109 
 
 6,125,000 
 
 13,250,000 
 
 " 
 
 6,858 
 
 9,419 
 
 20,600 
 
 1,. 500 ,000 
 
 4,fMI,000 
 
 " 
 
 12,309 
 
 17,603 
 
 20,233 
 
 3,900,000 
 
 9,728,000 
 
 Del. 
 
 13,979 
 
 25,508 
 
 30,841 
 
 11,500,000 
 
 13,000,000 
 
 Md. 
 
 169,054 
 
 212,418 
 
 267,354 
 
 27,480,000 
 
 79,169,000 
 
 •' 
 
 6,073 
 
 
 11,600 
 
 400,0OC 
 
 2,.500,000 
 
 " 
 
 6,028 
 
 8,143 
 
 10,130 
 
 875,000 
 
 2,100,1X10 
 
 D. C. 
 
 40,001 
 
 61,122 
 
 109,294 
 
 3,150,000 
 
 10,287,000 
 
 " 
 
 8,306 
 
 8,733 
 
 12,412 
 
 1,000,OOC 
 
 2,650,000 
 
 Ya. 
 
 27,570 
 
 87,910 
 
 61,038 
 
 2,100,000 
 
 6,183,000 
 
 " 
 
 8,734 
 
 12,052 
 
 13,670 
 
 S,125,00C 
 
 8,749,500 
 
 " 
 
 14,326 
 
 15,611 
 
 19,256 
 
 2,087,500 
 
 6,964,260 
 
 ** 
 
 8,122 
 
 9,502 
 
 12,678 
 
 1,499.35C 
 
 3,748,140 
 
 " 
 
 14,010 
 
 18,206 
 
 14,128 
 
 600,000 
 
 l,150,n00 
 
 " 
 
 8,071 
 
 6,853 
 
 7, .519 
 
 350,0OC 
 
 976,600 
 
 W. Ya. 
 
 11,43.5 
 
 14,0.S3 
 
 ]9,';82 
 
 6,150,28C 
 
 14,297,340 
 
 N. C. 
 
 7,264 
 
 9,.W2 
 
 13,405 
 
 975,00C 
 
 2,500,000 
 
 «' 
 
 4,.518 
 
 4,780 
 
 10,146 
 
 400,00C 
 
 1,100,000 
 
 " 
 
 4,681 
 
 6,4.32 
 
 4,990 
 
 250,000 
 
 725,000 
 
 S. C. 
 
 42,985 
 
 40,.522 
 
 4'^,956 
 
 1,3.50,000 
 
 8,950,000 
 
 " 
 
 6,060 
 
 8,059 
 
 10.139 
 
 1,015,260 
 
 2,416,980 
 
 Ga. 
 
 15,312 
 
 22,292 
 
 20,233 
 
 600,000 
 
 1,100,000 
 
 " 
 
 2,572 
 
 9,.5&4 
 
 16,988 
 
 1,326,000 
 
 3,146,000 
 
 " 
 
 11,75.3 
 
 12,493 
 
 14,197 
 
 675,00C 
 
 1,497,500 
 
 Fla. 
 
 1,943 
 
 2,832 
 
 6,510 
 
 850,00{ 
 
 1,328,500 
 
 Ala. 
 
 20,.515 
 
 29,2.58 
 
 32,084 
 
 3,618,00( 
 
 9,145,320 
 
 
 4,935 
 
 8,84a 
 
 13,065 
 
 .500,000 
 
 3,000,000 
 
 Misa. 
 
 4,431 
 
 6,612 
 
 9,123 
 
 275,000 
 
 785,300 
 
 " 
 
 3,676 
 
 4,.59] 
 
 8,953 
 
 729.00( 
 
 1,541,870 
 
 La. 
 
 116,375 
 
 168,675 
 
 191,322 
 
 19,7oO,00( 
 
 68,.560,000 
 
 Texas. 
 
 4,177 
 
 7,307 
 
 13,818 
 
 860,00( 
 
 2,100,000 
 
 Ark. 
 
 2,107 
 
 3,727 
 
 13,380 
 
 mo,m 
 
 850,000 
 
 Tenn. 
 
 8,83£ 
 
 22,62; 
 
 40,226 
 
 1,639 ,00( 
 
 3,741,600 
 
 
 10,47f 
 
 1(!,98S 
 
 26.872 
 
 1,171,45( 
 
 2,703,621 
 
 ti 
 
 3,600 
 
 6,000 
 
 9,000 
 
 600,000 
 
 9.80,000 
 
TABLES OF rOrUL.VTION. 
 
 T^VBLE OF TKINCIPAL CITIES OF THE UNITED STATES.— Coxtinded. 
 
 Louisville 
 
 Coviugtan 
 
 Lexiuf^ton 
 
 St. Louia. 
 
 Kansas City.. . 
 St. Josepli. . . . 
 
 Hannibal 
 
 Leavenworth. . 
 
 Topeka 
 
 Omaha 
 
 Davenport .... 
 
 Dubuque 
 
 Des Moines.. . . 
 
 Keokuk 
 
 Jluscatine 
 
 Council Bluffs. 
 Burliuf^tou . . . . 
 
 Chicago 
 
 Peoria 
 
 Quincy 
 
 Sprinj^field. . . . 
 
 Alton 
 
 Galena 
 
 Pekin 
 
 Rock Island.. . 
 
 Cairo 
 
 Indianapolis . . 
 
 Evansville 
 
 Terre Haute.. . . 
 Fort Wayne.. . 
 New Albany. . . 
 
 Lafayette 
 
 Madison 
 
 Richmond .... 
 
 Logansport 
 
 Cincinnati 
 
 Cleveland 
 
 Toledo 
 
 Columbus 
 
 Dayton 
 
 Sandusky 
 
 Springfield 
 
 Hamilton 
 
 Portsmouth. . . . 
 Steubi-nv'lie . . . 
 
 Zanesville 
 
 Akron 
 
 Detroit 
 
 (Jrand KapiJs. . 
 
 Jackson 
 
 Kalam izoo . . , . 
 Ea^f .Saginaw.. . 
 
 Ailriau 
 
 MilwauUie 
 
 JIadisnn 
 
 Oshkosli 
 
 Superior City. . 
 Fond du Lac. . . 
 
 (ireen liay 
 
 Jtacine 
 
 Janesville 
 
 St. P.ml 
 
 ^Vinona 
 
 St. .\ntbony . . . 
 ^Minneapolis. . . . 
 
 Denver 
 
 Cheyenne 
 
 Salt" Lake City.. 
 Carson City ... . 
 Virginia City. . . 
 San Fr.ancisco. . 
 S.ieramento .. . . 
 
 Stockton 
 
 Oikl.and 
 
 Portland 
 
 Stcilacoom 
 
 Olympia 
 
 Santa Fe 
 
 Tucson 
 
 Boise City 
 
 Helena 
 
 A"irginia City. . . 
 Yanckton 
 
 State. 
 
 Ky. 
 Mo. 
 
 Kan. 
 
 Neb. 
 Iowa. 
 
 \l 
 111. 
 
 Chi 
 
 Minn. 
 
 Col. 
 
 Wvouiing. 
 
 I'tah. 
 
 Nov. 
 
 Cal. 
 
 Oregon . 
 Wasli. T. 
 
 New Mcx. 
 -Vrizona T. 
 
 Idaho. 
 Montana. 
 
 Dakota. 
 
 Population 
 in ISM. 
 
 43,104 
 
 a, 41 13 
 
 9,130 
 77,StiO 
 600 
 6,000 
 2,020 
 
 1.848 
 3,108 
 986 
 2,478 
 2..540 
 2,000 
 4,082 
 
 29,903 
 5,095 
 6,902 
 
 11,706 
 S,5S5 
 6.004 
 1,678 
 1,711 
 242 
 8,034 
 a,2.3.j 
 4,0.'.l 
 4,282 
 
 1,215 
 
 8,012 
 
 1.+13 
 
 3.500 
 
 11.5,431 
 
 17,034 
 
 3.823 
 
 17,S.s2 
 
 10,970 
 
 10,000 
 
 7,314 
 
 3.210 
 
 4,011 
 
 6,144 
 
 7,029 
 
 21^010 
 3,1! 
 4,1! 
 S,2S4 
 600 
 S.nK 
 
 2ll,0:;l 
 3,400 
 2,600 
 
 Population 
 in ISoO. 
 
 2,01-; 
 1,923 
 5,107 
 3.4,-1 
 1,338 
 
 656 
 
 34,776 
 12,000 
 3.000 
 
 4,846 
 
 68,0,33 
 10,471 
 9,r,21 
 
 160,7" 
 4.418 
 8,932 
 6,505 
 7,429 
 759 
 1,SS3 
 
 11,2a' 
 
 13,000 
 
 3,936 
 
 8,136 
 
 6, 
 
 2,011 
 
 6,708 
 
 109,260 
 
 14,045 
 
 13,682 
 
 16.199 
 
 7,.3a8 
 
 8,193 
 
 3,46" 
 
 5,130 
 
 2,188 
 
 18.611 
 
 11,484 
 
 8 601 
 
 10,388 
 
 12,134 
 
 9,38 
 
 9,068 
 
 6,603 
 
 2,979 
 
 161,044 
 
 43,41" 
 
 13,790 
 
 18,092 
 
 20,081 
 
 0.316 
 
 7,00' 
 
 7,22- 
 
 6,27; 
 
 C.16 
 
 9;232 
 
 3, .520 
 
 46,619 
 
 8,0:i6 
 
 4, TOO 
 
 6,070 
 
 3.i»l 
 
 6,213 
 
 45,24a 
 
 6,611 
 
 6,086 
 
 f.34 
 
 P.4-,0 
 
 2.2 ,^ 
 
 7.s:2 
 
 7-7C3 
 
 iii,.;oi 
 
 2,464 
 3,258 
 2,664 
 4,749 
 
 Population 
 in 1870. 
 
 8,236 
 714 
 2,345 
 56,802 
 13,785 
 3,679 
 1,543 
 2,874 
 
 4.6,36 
 1,034 
 
 458 1 
 
 100,754 
 24,506 
 10.121 
 312,903 
 32,302 
 19 692 
 10,120 
 17,.349 
 8,700 
 16.033 
 20,042 
 18,084 
 12,379 
 12,764 
 10.178 
 10.974 
 12,0.34 
 298,983 
 25,787 
 24,053 
 17,366 
 10.:353 
 10,030 
 9,310 
 7,896 
 8,207 
 41.603 
 21,830 
 17,105 
 17 756 
 16.20; 
 14.312 
 10,7tl9 
 9,4-13 
 8.950 
 218,900 
 93,918 
 31,692 
 31,336 
 3' I, .86: 
 14..523 
 12:655 
 11.105 
 10,522 
 10,207 
 10,013 
 
 10.010 
 
 79,683 
 
 16,50; 
 
 11,448 
 
 9.1,^0 
 
 11,319 
 
 8,448 
 
 V1,K9 
 
 lo.iW 
 
 1'-, 
 
 1.100 
 
 12. 
 
 4.660 
 
 9,S.S0 
 
 8,701 
 
 20,645 
 
 10.000 
 
 0,000 
 
 15,000 
 
 9,.500 
 
 4,500 
 
 24 ,,500 
 
 4,875 
 
 7,008 
 
 158,361 
 
 16.434 
 
 3,825 
 
 6,740 
 
 8,293 
 
 3,800 
 
 1,.500 
 
 6,600 
 
 8,000 
 
 4,800 
 
 8,900 
 
 3,700 
 
 5,800 
 
 Capital invest 
 
 
 ed in macu 
 
 Annual pro- 
 
 factures in or 
 
 duct. 
 
 near 1870: 
 
 
 §16,313.000 
 
 S40,o:n.745 
 
 4,296,.5« 
 
 10 ^_",.;";a 
 
 600,001 
 
 l.Vj:..n(iO 
 
 48,387.151 
 
 10'.i,513.Sj5() 
 
 3,174,125 
 
 8 125.460 
 
 1,676,323 
 
 4,1 '75,425 
 
 1,000.000 
 
 2.3 T.nliO 
 
 1,800,000 
 
 S.27i.i.Oi,0 
 
 400,000 
 
 9uO,Uua 
 
 1,300,000 
 
 3.600,000 
 
 2,425,0{R 
 
 3. V 9 1.000 
 
 1,470.UO{ 
 
 3.]nMlo(l 
 
 925.00( 
 
 Or.- ; n,i) 
 
 850,00( 
 
 l.'.'7'.i"0 
 
 1.126,00( 
 
 2.,>-.-'l 
 
 1,050,001 
 
 2 ;i .". :l ) 
 
 60,000,000 
 
 176.^' ■-. '> 
 
 4,105,000 
 
 ll,1:'i;.;j-5 
 
 3.072,50C 
 
 8.7411,-110 
 
 1,OS0..300 
 
 3.018,501) 
 
 l,147.Glf 
 
 2,.'*3I,450 
 
 2,261,419 
 
 4,sl,3,2-'3 
 
 1,743.20C 
 
 3.s;7.250 
 
 1,864,325 
 
 3.9S7,420 
 
 l.-10o,(i(t(. 
 
 2,903,2:0 
 
 4,1.50.601 
 
 11 205.350 
 
 2,745,20( 
 
 7,189,150 
 
 1,993,551. 
 
 4,185,240 
 
 1,871.00[ 
 
 4.6'22,1;0 
 
 2,343,751 
 
 4.91'i.2L5 
 
 820,001: 
 
 2,0O:;,150 
 
 l,361,O0C 
 
 3,108,270 
 
 2,628.133 
 
 5.^15,281 
 
 1,931,822 
 
 3.904,lf-'j 
 
 58,340,6.86 
 
 1,59,270,049 
 
 44,000,001 
 
 127,375,600 
 
 6.260,00C 
 
 14,128.609 
 
 8,326,000 
 
 19 ,.375.000 
 
 6,240,325 
 
 14,371,223 
 
 2,116,687 
 
 4.962,180 
 
 3,000,000 
 
 6,200,000 
 
 4,128,575 
 
 12,O0i;,155 
 
 1,817,340 
 
 43U.285 
 
 2,106,1.50 
 
 5,2lo,'.'C5 
 
 2,819,325 
 
 6,173,121 
 
 2.587,640 
 
 6,031.240 
 
 18.360,000 
 
 62,185,000 
 
 2.725,000 
 
 5,918.0W 
 
 l,976,.5:«i 
 
 4,128.000 
 
 1.752,01)0 
 
 3,710,500 
 
 2,568,090 
 
 7o01,(in0 
 
 l,843,.50O 
 
 4,103,000 
 
 11,275,000 
 
 28,645,000 
 
 2,193,780 
 
 4,285,000 
 
 650,000 
 
 1,384,000 
 
 425,000 
 
 894,000 
 
 879,000 
 
 2.185.000 
 
 1,312,2.50 
 
 3,l.^ii,iii<) 
 
 250,000 
 
 722,(1(10 
 
 575,600 
 
 1. '07.833 
 
 1,625,000 
 
 S.V^Ojm 
 
 850,000 
 
 l,795,(i(.iO 
 
 550,000 
 
 1,600,000 
 
 1,600,000 
 
 4,2.80,000 
 
 200,000 
 
 450,000 
 
 450,000 
 
 b()O.()00 
 
 28,600.000 
 
 71. 450,1 no 
 
 1,246,000 
 
 3,7SO,(i(lO 
 
 250,000 
 
 7(10,(1":) 
 
 270,000 
 
 800,(1(10 
 
 1,293,000 
 
 2,752,(lfK3 
 
 121,500 
 
 306,000 
 
 60.000 
 
 150,000 
 
 110,000 
 
 28(J,(li(0 
 
 160.000 
 
 470,000 
 
 185,000 
 
 600.000 
 
 370,000 
 
 809.000 
 
 926,000 
 
 2,.500,0fl0 
 
 225,000 
 
 660,000 
 
 in.,k'Q4 
 
TABLES OF POPULATIOX. 
 
 1--OCO CI C^O 1-" o^w 
 
 «. C3 ..J o a. 1 - !-• o. CO i-H 
 
 |NCO<CCOlOi»» ;5J NTt«OiO«>OCO P3 
 
 i-J.^Old 1-1 CO I- OJ I— CO m Oi 
 ^ «: f-; to rr ■■5' (.N 2 }- CC !^ O U3 f-1 i-l r-i -^ W O CI c: .-• C^ Oi 1- cs 
 
 d CO rt 1-i. 
 
 r-f »0 OS <M I- Ol (M 'J? 1 - "* 
 --)« CO O •"! C-l 3S O C2 O O 
 COCO"-" to a -H CI '^rW'^ 
 
 eg tg tM O ;-; CO C» r^ <N r^:-:'M!Z''-'Ol-01~0J lO OOC-. ,.^r- 
 
 i:'?3^'5r-' 93 oi c-f !-■ t-^iif co'cTo cf cT co'crrT-TaTcoiccr 
 
 CI to 
 
 CCCl 
 
 kOCOrM r-i CO-^ ■«*" 
 I— t CO CO CO ex O CO 
 
 oc L-ci CO or i~ w 
 
 cooo 
 
 iCCVO 
 
 CTj CO — CO ^H u3 "O 
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 orji-cixT-cai-u-T 
 
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 C3C0r-«Cl i-<rii-l Cl NOc5(NrH,-i^cJr-i i-H CJ^ 
 
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 ■^ ,-t i~ I ~ CO CO O O O CI 
 
 rH CO CO-fCl O I-COCIO 
 
 CO m" i-Tl--^ cp" t-cTc^frH" 
 
 Tf<cii- N ooooi-i--goo 
 
 S ci o 
 
 l-O lO 
 
 CI CI 
 i-t-rtH 
 
 oo 
 
 CI t* 
 
 <X>Cfl 
 
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 -O r- I- 1- lO 
 
 cT ci" o'oco 
 
 CICOCO 
 
 C'OQ 
 
 -^coo 
 
 rt< CO CO OO lO 
 I- COC^jOW 
 CO 1- O ., J^l— 
 
 l~Cl_ 
 
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 CO CI 
 CI 00 
 CI CI 
 
 CO O ^ O I- 
 
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 e5« 
 
 OCfl 
 
 CO to 
 
 i-H I - 1- O O •-" (D 
 OS CI CI <31 OO CO lO 
 CO CO n- r-J^Sl^CO O 
 
 CJ O CO CI m £30 t- 
 CO OO CO <E> CO CO Ol 
 
 s s 
 
 ^ >H >H >, >- >4 >H 
 
 ^ ?^ :« ?: Z z S^ 
 
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 |sis g yllEg-lill^|:S|||||g||s|fc|-l ^ 
 
 '='3 
 
 Note.— The year 1845 and the periods earlier than 1790 are taken from State enumerations, and from other sources 
 of informiition. 
 
 • Population of the settlement. 
 
 t .=tate census of 18.52. , ,...,,.. 
 
 t Errors were m.idc in Boston and Now Orlcnns in 1840, undcrestiraatinor the population in the first city, as proved 
 bv Mr. Shaltuck, to the extent of about 8,000 ; and overestiiaating it in New Orleans, as proved by Dr. Barton, by at least 
 10 300 or 15,000. 
 
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 rV7^ N MANCHESTER. 
 
 ~=5^<^ INDIANA J; p.'