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Cornell University 

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tine Cornell University Library. 

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the United States on the use of the text. 





FROM 1840 TO 1870. 


Publislied. by Subscription only. 








Entered according to act of CongresB, in the year 1869, hj 


In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Eastern Distnct 

of New York. 


Prefaces are not to my taste : — perhaps not to yours. • 
I have tried to tell in a simple way the story of a life which 
had within it much that seemed to me worth the telling ; and 
so this picture of my friend goes forth to his friends and 
mine. a. m. 

New York, December, 1869. 


No. ^»««- 

1. Portrait. 
■ 2. How Henry J. Eaymond studied his Lessons as a School 

Boy, ... . . 18 

3. The Genesee Wesleyan Seminary in Lima, - - 22 

4. The University of Vermont in Burlington, - - 26 

5. Tac Simile of the New York Tribune, April 10, 1841, 38 

6. The Pilot Boat Wm. J. Eomer in the Ice, - - 42 

7. Present Condition of the Raymond Homestead in Lima, 

New York, - - - 77 

8. Fac Simile of the New York Times, September 18, 1851, 88 

9. First Office of the New York Times, 113 Nassau St., 1851, 95 

10. Second Office of the New York Times, corner Nassau 

and Beekman Sts., 1854-7, - . 142 

11. The Building now occupied by the Times, - - 154 

12. Mr. Raymond's Sanctum in the present Times Building, 193 

13. Residence of Mr. Raymond, 12 Ninth St., New York, 205 

14. Pac Simile of Mr. Raymond's Editorial Copy, - - 225 

15. Pac Simile of an Autograph Letter from Mr. Raymond, 323 



THE B07. 

Western New York Fifty Tears ago — Birthplace and Parentage of Henry J. Baymond 

— The Raymond Family — The Old Homestead in Lima — Rev. Dr. Barnard's 
Churoh — Early Tears of Henry J. Raymond — Thirst for Knowledge — His 

Teachers — The District School — Raymond a Reader at Three Tears of Age 

A Speaker at Five — How he Studied — A Picturesque Attitude — The Favorite 
Cat — Raymond's Academic Course — Opening of the Genesee Wesleyan Seminary 
in Lima — His Schoolmate, Alexander Mann — Raymond Looking for Employ- 
ment — Brief Experienoe in a Country Store — He Forsakes Trade — In Charge 
of a District School — " Boarding Round " — Raymond a Poet at Sixteen — Ode 
Written for the Fourth of July Celebr&tion in Lima in 183£ — Raymond's De- 
parture for College ....13 



Raymond Prepared for College at Fifteen — His Father's Farm Mortgaged to Provide 
Means — Raymond as a Collegian — The University of Vermont — Incidents — 
Mr. E. A. Stansbury's Recollections — Henry Clay and Henry J.Raymond — 
Raymond's Graduation and Return to Lima 23 



Out of College and in Polities — " Tippecanoe and Tyler too " — Raymond as a Whig 
Campaigner — Political Speeches in the Genesee Valley — An Indignant Demo- 
cratic Schoolma^r — Raymond again in Search of Employment — Determines ta 



iry his Fortune in Now York — Calls upon Horace Greeley — Repulsed — Does 
not Give Up — Studies Law — Advertises for u School — Gets a Foothold in 
Greeley's New-Yorlcer — Greeley finally Engages Him' — Raymond Working for 
Bight Dollars a Week — Becomes a Writer of Pill Advertisements and a News- 
paper Correspondent — Establishment of the New York Tribune — Raymond Fast- 
Anchored in Journalism 



The New York Tribune — Horace Greeley's Tribute to Henry J. Raymond — A Mistake 
Corrected — Raymond's Work on the Tribune — Signal Successes — Dr. Dionysius 
Lardner's Lectures — Severe Illness of Raymond — Greeley Calls upon Him — 
Raymond's Wretched Pay — What he Said to Greeley — Results of an Interview 
in a Sick-room — Raymond as a Reporter — Thomas McElrath's Reminiscences — 
Raymond Secedes from the Tribune 32 



Easy -Going, Newspapers — The Old "Blanket-Sheets'' — Editorial Duels and Horse- 
whippings — Mr. W. C. Bryant's Reminiscences — The Courier and Enquirer — 
The Journal of Commerce — The Evening Post — The Commercial Advertiser — The 
Herald — How Bennett Startled the City of New York — The Stin — The Tribune 
as a Cheap and Respectable Paper — Fierce Rivalries — Old Methods of Getting 
News — Sharp Practice — Pony Expresses — Stealing Locomotive Engines — 
Carrier-Pigeous — Setting Type on Board of Steamboats — How Raymond Reported 
Webster's Speech — The Voyage of Monroe F. Gale across the Atlantic — The Pilot- 
Boat William J. Romer in the Ice — Personalities — James Watson Webb's Ridi- 
cule of Horace Greeley's Personal Appearance — Greeley's Reply — The TYibun^s 
"SUevegammon" Hoax — Burning of the TViiune Office — The Tide Changing . 36 



Periods in Journalism — The Expansion of the Press and the Progress of Civilization 
— The Pioneer followed by the Printer — Useless Papers Dead — Condition of the 


New York Press Twenty Tears Ago — How the Herald andilio Tribune fell into 
Disrepute — Henry J. Raymond Creating a New Era in Journalism — The Germ 
of his Future Success . . . . ~ 4j 



The Socialists Twenty-two Tears Ago — Horace Greeley and Albert Brisbane — The 
Tribune, the Future^ a.nd the Harbinger — Zealous Iconoclasts — The False Pre- 
tences of Fourierism — Socialistic Failures — The Tribune in Disrepute — Ray- 
mond's Attacks upon Socialism — The Celebrated Discussion between Greeley and 
Raymond — The Merits and Demerits of Socialism 51 



His Filial Derotion — Burning of the Homestead in Lima — Mr. Raymond's Letters 
to his Parents and his Brother Samuel — His Visit to Lima — His Solicitude for 
his Father and Mother — A Touching Tribute 77 



Election to the New Tork Legislature in 184:9 — A Good Beginning — Beturn to the 
Courier and Enquirer — Re-election to the Legislature in 1850 — Remarks on 
assuming the Speakership of the Assembly — Sudden End of the Session — An 
Incident in Raymond's Life — Quarrel between Webb and Raymond — Departure 
of Raymond for Europe — His First Impressions of the Old World — Letter from 
London • • • • SI 



Origin of the Times — Thurlow Weed's offer of the Albany Evening Journal to Raymond 
and Jones — Failure of a Negotiation — Project of a New Whig Paper in New 


York— The Winter of 1850-51 — A Walk upon the Ice on the Hudson River — A 
Banking Law which Produced a Newspaper — George Jones, B. B. Wesley, and 
Henry J. Eaymond — The Times Copartnership — Eight Stockholders — Raymond's 
Shares Presented to Him — The Times Announced — Commotion among New 
York Newspapers — Raymond's Visit to Europe — His Return to New York — 
The Prospectus' of the Times — A Building Selected— How the First Number of 
the Paper was Made Up — Mr. Raymond's Salutatory Address — "Only Sixpence 
a Week" — The Money Sunk in the First Year — Mr. Raymond's Statement of 
Results 88 



The Journalists who Joined Raymond — Alexander C.Wilson — James W. Simonton 
— The Times and its Charges of Corruption in Congress — A Page of History — 
The Times Triumphant — Nehemiah 0. Palmer — Caleb C. Norvell — Michael 
Hennessey 103 



Arrival of Louis Kossuth in New York in 1851 — Enthusiastic Reception — Mnnicipal 
Banquet in the Irving House — Raymond and James Watson Webb — A -Lively. 
Altercation — Webb Defiant — Police Restoring Order — Webb's Suppressed Speech 
Subsequently Printed — The Press Banquet to Kossuth in the Astor House — 
Admirable Speech by Mr. Raymond — His Advocacy of the Cause of Hungary . 108 



Mr. Raymond the Central Figure of an Exciting Scene — A Remarkable Episode in bis 
Life — How he Became a Member of the Convention — Northern Subserviency and 
Southern Arrogance— Attempt to Expel Mr. Raymond from the Convention— A 
Despatch to James Watson Webb, and what came of it — Mr. Raymond's Defence 
— His Final Triumph 2^20 




Raymond's Resolution to Devote his Life to Journalism — New Writers Engaged for 
the Times — Charles C. B. Seymour — Fitz James O'Brien — Dr. Tuthill — Charles 
Welden — Charles F.Briggs, Hurlbart, Godkin, Sewall, and DeCordova — Raymond 
again in. Politics — Elected Lieutenant-Governor — Address as President of the 
Senate — Declines the Nomination for Governor 142 



The Free-Soil Struggle — Causes of the Convention in Pittsburg in 1856 — Preliminary 
Action — The New Party — An Address to the People of the United States Sub- 
mitted by Mr. Raymond — Its Adoption — The Presidental Contest — Fremont 
Defeated — Raymond's Discussion with Lncien B. Chase 117 



The Old Brick Church Property in New York — Old Knickerbockers' Reminisoenceg 
and Regrets — A Large Purchase for the Times in the Panic Year — The Wonder 
of the Day in New York — Unheard-of Extravagance — How the Old Newspapers 
had been Housed — Dinginess and Decay — The New Order of Things — Visitors 
Thronging the Ti'mM Office — Full Description of the Building .... 151 



Raymond's Return from Europe and his Encounter with SocoSEJon in 1860 — His Un- 
waveriag Loyalty — Clear Foresight — Prophetic Utterances — Speech in Albany 
in 1860 — His Letters to William L. Yancey — War — Raymond's Patriotism — 
The Riot Week of 1863 and the Tmes — Raymond's Attitude . . . .160 




Raymond in 1862-G4 — Speech in 'Wilmington, Delaware — Election to Congress in 
November, 1864 — The Vote in his District — Opening of the Thirty-Ninth Con- 
gress—Andrew Johnson's Conflict with the Republican Party — Raymond in the 
Philadelphia Convention in 1866 — The Philadelphia Address — Raymond's Ex- 
planatory Speech at the Cooper Institute — A Nomination to the Fortieth Con- 
gress Declined — Letter from Mr. Raymond — His Opponents — Injustice . .168 



Mr, Raymond's ■W'ith4rawal from Public Life and his Return to Editorial Duty — 
Departure for Europe in 1867 — A Farewell Dinner — Letter from Rev. Henry 
Ward Beecher — Speeches by Mr. Dana and Mr. Roosevelt — A Jingle of Rhyme 
— Speech by Mr. Raymond — The Press Dinner to Charles Dickens — Mr. Ray- 
mond's Speech — Increased Value of the Times 193 



Sudden Death of Mr. Raymond — Tributes to his Memory — His Enemies Confessing 

their Error 205 


Funeral Ceremonies — Eloquent Address by Rev. Henry Ward Beeoher . . .215 



Mr. Raymond's Career- His Early Ambition — His Application — Newspaper Re- 
quirements — The Times — Raymond's Treatment of Subordinates His Hospi- 



tahty — Incidents — Raymond's Tact — Hia Habit of Discipline — His Idea of 
Journalism — His Errors — His Methods of Literary Labor — The Biography of 
Daniel Webster — A College Address — Religious Faith — " Gates Ajar " — 
Domestic Life 219 



Uow Bennett was Beaten at his own Game — The Loss of the Collins Steamer "Arctic" 
in 1854 — Mr. Barns's Narrative of the Disaster, and How the TTimes Secured it — 
A Ride in a Horse-Car — Adventures of a Night — The Italian Campaign of 1859 

— Mr Raymond's " Brilliant Run " — The Times and the " Elbows of the Mincio " 

— A Bohemian Trick — How the Times Caricatured Bennett — Incidents of the 
Cable Excitement in 1858 — The War Correspondents — Newspaper Reporters — 
" Jenkins" — George William Curtis on "Jenkins" — Precision in Jonrnalism — 
The iJuenins' Pos*"* "Index Expurgatorius" 230 



How Editors are Bored — The Different Classes of Bores — The Poets, and wbat Mr. 
Bryant said of Them — Political, Inquisitive, and Clerical Bores — The " Strong- 
Mlnded " Women — The Persons Afflicted by Bores 



Famous Deceptions — The " Moon Hoax " of 1835 — The Polk Campaign and the 
" Roorback " — The Lincoln Proclamation Hoax 273 



Papers Published in New York at the Close of 1869 — A Classified List — Peculiarities 
of Different Journals — Upwards of One Hundred and Fifty Dailies and Weeklies 
In Existence — What Was, Is, and Is to Be 323 













Fifty years ago, that part of Western New York which 
became the birthplace of Henry Jarvi§ Eaymond was remote 
and almost unknown. The great lines of land and water com- 
munication which now give it ready access to the centres of 
population, and to profitable markets, had not yet been opened. 
No telegraph existed ; cables under the ocean had not been 
conceived, even in dreams. The Erie Canal was still in pro- 
cess of construction, and De Witt Clinton, who watched its 
progress with keen attention, was Governor of the State. 

In the year 1820, the whole population of New York was 



but one million, three hundred and seventy-two thousand 
eight hundred and twelve, — or in the proportion of thirty 
inhabitants to the square mile, — and ten thousand and eighty- 
eight slaves remained in captivity within its borders. James 
Monroe was President of the United States ; Maine had just 
been admitted into the Union ; the people of the Territory of 
Missouri had been formally authorized to form a State consti- 
tution ; the country had lately emerged from the war with Eng- 
land, and the ravaged frontier of New York was relapsing into 
quiet after the long and violent shock of arms. 

Thirty miles from the frontier, sequestered even from the 
small business centres of that day, lay the little hamlet of 
Lima, now a part of Livingston County, — a county which had 
no existence fifty years ago, nor until it was born of the adja- 
cent counties of Ontario and Genesee in the early part of the 
year 1821. Lima is an old village, begun in 1789, and 
although its growth has been slow,* it has steadily held its 
own, and its people can boast that it has suflfered no material 
retrogression, — a boast which does not apply to many places 
in New York more celebrated and pretentious. Nature has 
been generous to this region. A fertile soil, rippling water- 
courses, crystal lakes, leafy woods, and distantviews of charm- 
ing landscapes, appeal alike to the artist's sense of the beauti- 
ful, and the farmer's love of the useful. The village of Lima, 
distant seven miles from the railroad station of Avon, on the 
Buffalo Division of the Erie route, now forms the north-eastern 
corner of the County of Livingston ; and as the traveller jogs 
slowly towards it, committed to the most uncomfortable bf old- 
fashioned stage-coaches, he is agreeably impressed by the 
signs of thrift and industry which meet the eye at every step 
of the well-kept country road. If not Arcadia, the place is 
])astoral, and undeniably attractive. 

One mile and a half from the centre of the little post-village 
of Lima, is the old homestead upon which Henry J. Raymond 
was born — January 24th, 1820. The dwelling was destroyed 

*Tlie present population (Jnnnary, 1870) is about fifteen hundred. The 
town was formed in January, 1789, under the name of Charleston. In 1808, 
the name was changed to Lima. 

THE EOT. , 15 

by fire twenty-eight years later, but the boundaries of the farm 
remain unaltered, and the fine grove of spreading locust-trees 
which shaded the old house remains to adorn the new. The 
farm passed into other hands upwards of twenty years ago, 
but ancient memories still cluster there. 

The progenitors of the Eaymond family, as the name implies, 
were of French extraction. The pedigree has not been pre- 
served, for pride of ancestry is not a characteristic of the 
Raymond blood ; and if some future Dryasdust should exhume 
the mouldy record of lines of crusading lords, it is certain he 
would get no aid from any researches undertaken by existing 
members of the family. Jarvis Eaymond, father of Henry 
Jarvis, was a farmer in Lima fifty years ago, — that is all the 
record his descendants want ; they see a perpetual halo about 
the father's head, and ask for no older, stronger, or purer 
ancestral line. 

Jarvis Raymond was married in the year 1819 to Lavinia, 
daughter of Clark Brockway, of Lima. The first child born 
to them was Henry Jarvis Eaymond, and five others followed. 
Of these but two survive, and the father himself is numbered 
with the departed. In the order of birth, the children were : — 

l._ Henry Jarvis Raymond. 

2. Eliza Raymond. 

3. Samuel Brockway Raymond. 

4. James Fitch Raymond. 

5 and 6. Two who died very young, and were never named. 

Samuel is now a prominent and prosperous citizen of Roch- 
ester, New York, — the senior member of the firm of Raymond 
& Huntington, bankers and insurance agents. James is a 
photographer in Detroit, Michigan, having removed to that 
city from Ypsilanti, to which latter place he emigrated on leav- 
ing Lima fifteen years ago. The mother's home is now with 
her son James, but she occasionally revisits Lima, her birth- 
place ; and when the writer had the pleasure of an interview 
with her in that village, a few months sinceLthe venerable and 
excellent lady dwelt with keen zest upon the memories of her 
youth. Heaven send all such good mothers length of days 
and full measure of prosperity ! 



The home life on the eighty-acre farm in Lima, half a cen- 
tury ago, was simple, honest, and kindly. The father and 
mother were both professing Christians, and moreover consis- 
tent in their Christian character : — all professing Christians 
are not entitled to this high praise. Mr. Raymond, who is 
described by old inhabitants of the place, still surviving, as a 
man of sterling integrity, possessed of a remarkably clear 
mind and a happy faculty of imparting ideas, long occupied 
positions of trust in the little rural community in which he 
dwelt. He was for many years a Justice of the Peace in 
Lima, and a Ruling Elder in the First Presbyterian Church, 
of which the Reverend John Barnard, D. D., was pastor,* and 
was also for a considerable time the Supermtendent of Dr. 
Bai-nard's Sabbath school. A plain, unlettered man, his 
sound sense, honesty of purpose, and decision of character 
gave him command, and to this day his name is never men- 
tioned save with honor. He died in Detroit in 1868, in the 
house purchased for him by his son Henry, after the removal 
of the family from the old homestead in Lima. 

The first-born, Henry Jarvis Raymond — the subject of this 
volum§ — inherited much of his parents' solid sense, quick 
apprehension, and strong purpose. True, he was born to an 
inheritance of poverty ; but he was not the worse for that. 
Very few men possessed of strong will are sufferers from the 
troubles of a cloudy youth ; they make their own sunshine 
later on in life, and the difficulties of their early days are to 
their maturer fame what shadows are to art, — points of con- 
trast and backgrounds for brilliant color. 

Henry J. Raymond, as an infant, differed in no material 
respect from thousands of other children; and when he 
began to run about in pinafores he was chiefly noteworthy 
for great natural quickness and indomitable nervous energy. 
The induction into his first pair of trowsers, however, 

- * Dr. Barnard is still living in Lima, at an advanced age. He retired ftom 
the pastorate of the Presbyterian Church in that village, in 1857, after an active 
and nseftil service of fifty years. To his courteous kindness and the vividness 
of his recollections, the writer is indebted for valuable assistance in the preo- 
aratlon of these pages. 

THE BOY. 17 

marked a peiiod in his young life. A thirst for the acquisition 
of knowledge came early to him, and grew in intensity until 
the day of his death. He never wearied of studying, examin- 
ing, analyzing. His active mind — too active at times — began 
to take form at the age of three, when he read simple lessons 
fluently, to the boundless delight of doting parents and admir- 
ing friends. He was not, perhaps, so precocious as Horace 
Greeley, who has uttered a moving lament over the stupidity of 
certain New Hampshire folk, who caused him to read print 
upside-down at the tender age of four; but Raymond's early 
skill in letters is to-day traditional in the place of his birth. 
■ His first teacher — Charlotte Leech, now dead — was proud 
of her little pupil, and he profited so well by her Careful tute- 
lage that at the age of three years and a half he was consid- 
ered eligible for admission to the privileges of the district 
school. Those privileges M^ere in no sense remarkable, for the 
district school of that day was an exceedingly inferior institu- 
tion : — reading, writing and arithmetic were the principal 
studies ; books of instruction were dear and poor ; and neither 
teachers nor pupils were noted for wisdom. But the lad 
throve upon such meat as was given him, and the loving eyes 
of kindred and friends still linger upon the site of the little old 
house, a stone's-throw across the turnpike from the home- 
stead, in which the future editor took his first degree in learn- 
ing. No relic is now left of the rusty, old-fashioned school ; 
in its place stands a trim white building, populous and noisy 
with the school-boy life of the latter half of the nineteenth 
century. Who knows but the editor of the future great news- 
paper of America, or he who was born to rule the destiny of 
this nation, is to-day a pupil in roundabout jacket in that 
unpretentious school-house ? 

Raymond was a reader at three. At the age of five he was 
a speaker, — a speaker in a very small way, but yet a speaker. 
For, in the winter of 1824-5, while under the teaching of 
Mr. Fosdick, he appeared in the public exhibition of the schol- 
ars as the reciter of two pieces ; one of which was a satire 
upon lawyers, couched in terms severe but simple, as befitted 
a. youth of such tender years. 


At the age of eight, the lad began to attend Mr. Button's 
classical school ia the yiUage of Lima, studying the elementary 
lessons during the summer, and remaining at home in the 
winter months. After the winter of 1829, he was in school 
constantly, living at home and learning rapidly. He mingled 
but little in the sports of his fellows, preferring his books 
rather than the company of the roystering coimtry boys. Chest- 
nutting had no charms for him ; bird's-nesting was a jo\- of 
which he never tasted ; even the exhilarating pastime of coast- 
ing was but seldom indulged in. He was eminently studious 
and sober. An omnivorous reader, he remembered and was 
able to use all he read. His remarkable power of memory and 
faculty of assimilation, which contributed in no smaU degi-ee 
to his success later in life, thus had an early development, and 
he was unwearied in application. 

His method of study at that early age was peculiar. Al- 
ways choosing the evening for committing his lessons, he as- 
sumed a position so picturesque that our artist has been dnected 
to make the accompanying sketch from the minute and vivid 
descriptions fiu-nished by survivhig members of the family. 
Picture the plain, old-fashioned room of a country-house, — a 
wood-stove roaring merrily while stormy blasts swept by un- 
heeded, — father and mother and brothers gathered around the 
table, at one corner of which Henry was engaged in study, — 
■ his knees upon a hard chair, his elbows upon the table, his 
hands supporting his head, his eyes fixed intently upon his 
book, and a favorite cat mounted upon his friendly back. 
This cat, according to the family tradition, was veiy fond of 
the studious lad, and as regularlj- as he assumed his favorite 
position, so regularly did the feline companion arrive to com- 
plete the winter evening's tableau. 

Meanwhile, projects had been in preparation to enlarge the 
educational facilities of Lima. In the year 1829, the Genesee 
Axmual Conference of the Methodist Episcopal- denomination 
of the State of New York, at its annual session, appointed a 
committee to take steps for establishing a seminaiy of learning 
within the territorial limits of the Conference ; and subscriptions 
of funds for that purpose were solicited in the towns of Perry, 


f t 



THE BOY. 19 

Brockport, Henrietta, Le Eoy, and Lima, which, places were 
competitors for the location of the seminary. The conditions 
of subscription were that the seminary should be erected in the 
place where the greatest amount of money should be subscribed. 
The sum of twelve thousand dollars was subscribed and paid by 
the citizens of Lima and its neighborhood. The subscribers 
were Saifluel Spencer and about one hundred and fifteen other 
citizens, and in pursuance of the terms and conditions of sub- 
cription the seminary was in the year 1830 located at Lima. 
As a further inducement to build the institution in Lima, the 
citizens of the town procured to be sold and conveyed to the 
seminary, for its site, abont seventy-four acres of land, situated 
within the limits of the village, at the nominal price of two 
thousand four hundred and twenty-six dollars and thirty cents, 
— much less than the actual value, — upon which the seminary 
erected its buildings, and went into operation in the year 1832. 
By an act of the Legislature of the State of New York, passed 
May 1, 1834, it was duly incorporated by the name of the 
Genesee Wesleyan Seminary. 

Henry J. Eaymond was among the first students who 
entered the new institution in 1832. His age was twelve, and 
he had profited so well by the instruction previously received 
in smaller schools that he was perfectly qualified to undertake 
a broader course of study. His raost intimate schoolmate in 
the seminary was Alexander Mann, through whose urgent 
solicitation Raymond subsequently went to college. They 
remained fast friends ; and it is an interesting fact, that, many 
years later, Mr. Mann was employed by Mr. Eaymond as an 
editorial writer japon the New York Times. Mr. Mann was 
in no sense brilliant, but he possessed a well-informed 
mind, and his uniform integrity and agreeable social qualities 
endeared him to all who knew him. Those who were associ- 
ated with him in the service of the Times cherish pleasant 
memories of the relation. 

Emerging from the seminary, Eaymond began to cast about 
for employment. His common-sense way of looking at the 
affairs of life suggested the reflection that it was his duty to 


contribute towards the expense of his own support ; and accord- 
ingly he obtained a place in a country store. The pay was at 
the rate of seventy-five dollars a year, — not an extravagant 
reward for the intelligent service performed, — but the lad did 
not like the business, and not long afterwards he and trade 
parted company forever. In his sixteenth year he began to 
teach, procuring the charge of a district school, -for three 
months, in Wheatland, Genesee County, iifteen miles north- 
west of Lima. In country phrase, he "boarded round" — 
taking such accommodations of food and lodging as the uni- 
versal custom of the day afforded to impecunious young teach- 
ers, but thriving under circumstances which were not alto- 
gether agreeable. The pay was small, and he was very young 
to hbld the place of pedagogue ; many of his scholars excelled 
him in size and weight as well as in age ; and his path was not 
strewed with roses. But he had a strong will, and his expe- 
rience in teaching was not a failure.. 

In the following summer, his school contract having expired, 
he returned to the homestead in Lima ; and on the Fourth of July 
made his first appearance as a poet. The celebration of the Na- 
tional Anniversary in Lima, that year, was exceptionally grand. 
The patriotic citizens, determining that " the Fourth " should be 
honored with all due observance, devoted much thought and 
time to the celebration ; and in response to a pressing invita- 
tion, young Baymond wrote the subjoined ode, which was 
sung by the village choir with immense spirit, to the accompani- 
ment of a swelling chorus : — 


Jtot 4, 1836. 

^ir— "Hail Columbia.'' 

Hail! holy Truth : Hail! Sacred Eight, 
Whom heav'n gave birth ere dawn'd the light ! 
That art with heav'n coeval — firm : 
That art with heav'n coeval — firm. 
Thus thundered forth Truth's Sov'reign God 
As high 'mid slsy and earth he trod. 

THE BOY. 21 

In heaven thou hast a during home, 
On earth thy name is scarcely known ; 
Her sons too base, too blindly low, 
Thy spirit's boldest, proudest foe. 

Hail Truth, Justice, Liberty! 

Heaven's sons are greatly free. 

Saints — 'tis not beneath your praise, 

Strike your harps to noble lays. 

Columbia heard his thundering voice. 
The despot's dread, the freeman's choice. 
Hail! holy Truth: Hail! sacred Right! 
Hail ! holy Truth : Hail ! sacred Right ! 
Through earth's domain the echo ran, 
And upward coursed the heaven's broad span. 
In this fair lafid doth Freedom live ; 
In this fair land her champions thrive : 
O'erwhelmed be Kings' united powers, 
That vainly strive to conquer ours. 
Hail! Truth, Justice, etc. 

Hail ! heavenly Science — glorious Ray 
Of bright effulgence — mental Day : 
Great pledge of lasting Liberty ! 
Great pledge of lasting Liberty ! 
The lordly tyrant's fiercest shock. 
The freeman's firm unshaken rock, 
Heaven's mighty orbs in ceaseless rounds 
Thy flat wheels — their limit bounds: 
Gloom shrouds the earth : thy brightest ray 
Pierces the shade —her night is day. 
Hail ! Truth, Justice, etc. 

Again the land of Patriots heard 

His mighty voice — the well-known word ; 
Hail ! heav'nly Science — glorious Ray ! 
Hail! heav'nly Science — glorious Ray I 

Welcome to Freedom's ' holy land ' ; 

Welcome to Justice' nura'rous band. 
Let Eastern climes content remain 
'Neath tyrants' slavish galling chain : 
Bat next our hearts let knowledge stay; 
Freedom's sure pledge — as light, of day. 

Hail ! Truth, Justice, etc. 

Hail Columbia I Freedom's land ! 
Hail her champions — mighty band I 

All hail her Institutions free ! 

All hail her Institutions free ! 


But when your hearts with glory rise, 
Forget not those who earned the prize; 

Forget not him, the proudest one, 

The great, the mighty Washington! 

Forget not those; who left their life ; 

Who met in War the last dark strife. 
Hail ! Truth, Justice, etc. 

Considered as a literary production, not much can be said in 
praise of this ode ; but when regarded as the work of a coun- 
try boy of sixteen, whose whole life had been passed in the 
seclusion of a rural hamlet, without access to the higher 
schools of instruction, or the privilege of studying the works 
of great authors, it becomes exceedingly interesting. The 
original raanuscript — written in a neat and flowing style ia 
which chirographic students might trace resemblances to the 
fac similes which appear elsewhere in this volume — is now in 
the posse'ssion of Mr. Samuel B. Raymond, of Rochester. 

With the writing of the Fourth of July Ode, in 1836, 
virtually ended Raymond's residence in Lima. In the follow- 
ing August he entered the Freshman Class of the UniTersity 
of Vermont, in Burlington, and his college life began. 









In a fragment of autobiogi-aphy found among Mr. Ray- 
mond's papers after his death,* he observes that at the age of 
fifteen he was better prepared for college than his father was 
to send him. But Jarvis Eaymond knew the value of a good 
education, and at any cost to himself wa;s always ready to 
give his children the advantages of the best instruction. When 
his son Henry had reached the age of sixteen, the father mort- 
gaged his farm for the sum of one thousand dollars, and with 
the provision thus obtained, the lad was sent to Burlington, f 
The money devoted to this • purpose was afterwards repaid to 
the father by the grateful son. 

* See Appendix A. This fragment is evidently but an unfinished and 
crude series of notes. It needs revision, to remove obscurities and inele- 
ganeies of expression ; but it is given in the Appendix to this volume, with- 
out alteration, as a pleasant memorial. 

t The University of Vermont, an old and prosperous institution, situated 
on a commanding eminence in the city of Burlington, on t,>e banks of Lake 
Champlain,'has recently been enriched by an endowment of eighty thousand 
dollars. The subjoined passages, taken from the Burlington Free Press of 
October, 1869, show the purposes of this endowment, and also illustrate the 
generous sympathy of the citizens of Burlington and the alumni of the Uni- 
versity in the good work it is performing : — 

" We are sure," observes the Free Press, " that our readers will share our 
pleasure at hearing that the attempt to obtain a subscription of at least 
eighty thousand dollars for the Treasury of the University of Vermont and 
State Agricultural College has been crowned with success. Never before by 
any one effort was so large a sum raised for the Institution. When the Uni- 
versity undertook, three years ago, to furnish education in the natural 


Four years in college were not devoid of incident. It is 
still a tradition in the University of Vermont that Eaymond 
was one of the best students of his class, and that metaphysi- 
cal lore was his favorite subject. He clung to his books with 
the invincible tenacity of his earlier years, determining to mas- 
ter the grave problems set before him, and coolly disregarding 
temptations and allurements. Among his classmates were 

sciences in their applications to agriculture and the mechanic arts, the Trus- 
tees saw the necessity of an important addition to the funds at their dis- 
posal. They therefore resolved to appeal to the public for the sura of one 
hundred thousand dollars. It was thought that the Alumni would be pleased 
to devote their subscriptions to tlie endowment of the Professorship of Moral 
and Intellectual Philosophy, which had been rendered so illustrious by the 
distinguished scholar who then filled it, Prof. Joseph Torrey, and by his van 
erated predecessor, President James Marsh. They were therefore invited to 
contribute at least twenty-five thousand dollars to the endowment of the 
Marsh Professorship. By the terms of that special subscription it was to be 
completed before Commencement, 1867. The sons of the University cheer 
fully responded to the cfill, filled the subscription within the allotted time, 
and have paid the larger portion of it into the treasury. 

" It was decided to ask the citizens of Burlington and vicinity to subscribe 
at least thirty thousand dollai's, and, if possible, to carry their subscriptions 
to forty thousand dollars. It was also thought wise to provide that none of 
the subscriptious, except those which should be made to the Alumui Fund, 
should be binding, unless the total amount of all the subscriptions, special 
and general, should be at least eighty thousand dollars. When a committee, 
consisting of Albert L. Catlin, John N. Pomeroy, and Peter T. Washburn, 
should declare that the sum of thirty thousand dollars had been subscribed 
in Burlington and vicinity, and that the total sum of eighty thousand dollars, 
in special and general subscriptions, had been subscribed, and that such sub- 
scriptions were, in their judgment, good and valid, then all such subscrip- 
tions were to be binding and payable according to the terms thereof. That 
declaration these three gentlemen have formally made. 

"The gentlemen charged with the labor of raising the subscription wisely 
took the ground that before applications could successfully be made abroad, 
Burlington must show that she had a fresh and vital interest in the Institu- 
tion, and confidence that under its new organization it had a career of prom- 
ise ijefore it. They therefore began their labors here. The citizens of Bur- 
lington promptly responded ; and in a, very short time the thirty thousand 
dollars asked of them were promised. But they did not stop at that. And 
to-day there stands against the names of the citizens of Burlington and 
vicinity (including Winooski and South Burlington), the sum of over forty 
thousand dollars (#iO,451), a considerable part of which has been paid be- 
fore it was due. We thiuk it may fairly be said that Burlington has shown 
her interest in the University. From New York city and Brooklyn subscrip- 
tions for twenty-one thousand seven hundred and ten dollars were received; 
ftom St. Johnsbury, six thousand two hundred and twenty-five dollars ; from 
St. Albans, two thousand four hundred and fifty dollars ; and from Rutland, 
one thousand four hundred and fifty dollars. Smaller sums were procured in 
various towns of Vermont." 

President Angell, who has been at the head of the University since the 
year 1866, has directed its affairs with great skill and marked success. His 
scholastic acquirements and his genial temper assure to him alike the respect 
of the learned and the affection of the student. 


James E. Spaulding,* of New York ; Dudley C. Denison, of 
Eoyalton, Vermont; J. S. D. Taylor, of St. Albans, Ver- 
mont; Daniel C. Houghton, and others with whom Mr. Ray-' 
mond always kept up the most cordial relations. Associated 
with him in college, but in other classes, were his old school- 
mate Alexander Mann, Professor W- G. T. Shedd, D. D., 
now a resident of New York ; J. Sullivan Adams, late Secre- 
tary of the Vermont Board of Education ; Rev. Calvin Pease, 
D. D. ; John Gregory Smith ; James Forsyth, of Troy, New 
York ; Rev. John Henry Hopkins, Jr. ; Charles P. Marsh, of 
Woodstock, Vermont; Torrey E. Wales, of Burlington, Ver- 
mont ; Robert S. Hale, of New York; Rev, Charles C. Parker, 
of Maine ; William Higby, of California ; John N. Baxter, and 
C. M. Davey, of Rutland, Vermont; and Rev. Wm. T. Her- 
rick, of Clarendon, Vermont. 

A writer, who has paid a pleasant tribute to the memory of 
Mr. Raymond, describes an incident which occurred "in the 
second year of his college course : — 

" Raymond was seventeen years old when he came to spend 
the long and dreary winter vacation with me in a temporarily 
deserted building of a Vermont college. He was 'full up' 
with his class, and there was no necessity for his devoting his 
time to Latin and Greek. There had just been received a 
splendid collection of the old English classics, and I was devot- 
ing my time to their careful study. Not so with Raymond. 
Boyish ambition to shine in his class determined his course and 
settled his character for life. The class had been reading the 
Odyssey of Homer. He had not read the Ihad in his prepara- 
tory course, and set about reading up. One book a day he 
assigned to himself as a task. But as these books were of un- 
equal length, some days he had to overtask nature ; and then 
began that system of overworking himself that at last ended in 

* It is an interesting incident in the career of Mr. Eaymond, that to three 
of the gentlemen with whom he was iutfrnately associated in early life, he 
afterwards gave employment in the service of the Times. Mr. Spaulding 
was for several years an editorial writer for the Times; Mr. Mann's 
connection with that journal has already been noted; and Mr. E. D. Mans- 
field, of Ohio, for whose journal Mr. Raymond had written correspondence 
from New York in 1840, became " The Veteran Observer." 


apoplexy. On one occasion he sat down to his task at four 
P. M. ; the book was a large one, and he read away through the 
entire night, and did not complete his task until four p. m. of 
the next day." 

Mr. E. A. Stansbury, formerly editor of the Burlington Free 
Press, and now Secretary of the Homoeopathic Life Insurance 
Company of the city of New York, also contributes a reminis- 
cence of Mr. Raymond. He writes : — 

"I knew him first as a young, delicate, intellectual-looking 
student at Burlington. . It was at the Junior Exhibition in the 
beginning of August, 1839. The great Kentuckian, every- 
where regarded as sure to be the nominee of the Presidential 
Convention to be held in the succeeding December, was making 
a sort of triumphal progress in advance through the Eastern 
States, to let his future supporters see the man they were to 
vote for. He happened to be at Burlington at Commence- 
ment, and, of. course, was sought by the authorities as the 
crowning attraction of the occasion. He occupied the central 
seat upon the stage in front of the pulpit, in the full gaze of an 
assemblage comprising all that Burlington and its neighbor- 
hood for n.\any miles around could boast of as charming and bril- 
liant. Crowds surrounded the church, unable to get admission, 
but patiently waiting to greet with tumultuous voices the idol 
of the State. 

" I remember the day of the Junior Exhibition well. It was 
oppressively hot. Mr. Clay, in black frock-coat, white vest 
and very wide brown drilling pantaloons, sat manfully contend- 
ing against the combined assaults of the stifling air, the monot- 
onous tones of the speakers, and the interminable length of the 
exercises — scarcely able, despite his best efforts, to keep se- 
curely awake for more than five minutes at a time ; and then, 
apparently, only by vigorously plying his large snuff-box, 
which had to do extra duty that day. 

"At length a slender, boyish figure stepped gracefully out 
upon the stage, made his bow to the President, to the Faculty 
iand Mr. Clay, and then to the vast audience. His reputation 
for ability was so well known that in an instant the buzz of con- 
versation ceased, and the first sentences of Eaymond's oration 

^ -N. 

f' 'i f ta i* 
^ -V 

i"*f si 


broke upon the ear, ahnost as clearly as if the church had been 
empty. I sat but fifteen or twenty feet from the front of the 
stage, so that the whole scene was like a picture to me. 

" In a moment Mr. Clay's manner changed. He was wid« 
awake. As the young speaker grew more animated, and recov- 
ered from the embarrassment, which he afterward confessed to 
me, almost overpowered him, at the thought of opening his, lips 
in the presence of that great master of oratory, the statesman 
leaned forward in his chair in an attitude of intense interest, 
and so remained to the close. When, in those measured and 
beautiful sentences for which Mr. Raymond was even then re- 
markable, he brought his theme to a graceful and appropriate 
termination, Mr. Clay turned to one sitting next him to ask 
who the speaker was. ' That young man,' said he, ' will make 
his mark. Depend upon it, you will hear from him hereafter.' 

" In the evening, at a reception in honor of Mr. Clay, the 
brilliant Junior was presented, and heard some words which, I 
doubt not, he treasured to the end of life." 

These incidents serve to illustrate some of the striking points 
of the young collegian's character. As a little child, he was 
obedient, staid, and eager for instruction ; as a well-grown boy, 
studious and industrious ; as a young man in college, decorous 
and diligent, making warm friendships and amassing stores of 
information, which yielded rich returns in the days of struggle 
and of triumph. In August, 1840, he was graduated at the 
University, and returned home for a visit to his parents — 
laden with the honors fairly won by four years of study and 







Emancipated from college, Raymond began to make politi- 
cal speeches. The autumn of 1840 was the time of the Harri- 
son campaign, and the familiar rallj'ing cry of " Tippecanoe and 
Tyler too " rang through the Genesee valley as loudly as in 
other parts of the country. Eaymond was too young to vote, 
but old enough to talk well. He had passed his twentieth 
birthday, and the experience he had had in four years of col- 
lege training and Society declamation, grafted upon a natural 
fluency of speech, gave him the confidence and ready flow of 
words which he never afterwards lost. Warmly espousing the 
Whig cause, he performed excellent service in the campaign, 
addressing large audiences in Lima, Geneseo and other places, 
and continually winning good opinions. A democratic school- 
master, named Loomis, however, became profoundly disgusted 
at the yoiuig collegian's success as an orator, as well as with the 
trenchant blows he dealt, and the story runs that he once inquired 
with much asperity " what that little Eaymond, with a face no 
bigger than a snuff-box, meant by coming round there to make 
political speeches ! " At this period, also, Eaymond took part 
in public discussions upon political questions, and acquitted 
himself honorablj^. The campaign ended, and Harrison was 
elected. But for that victory of the Whigs, Horace Greeley 
would probably not have established the Tribune; and had not 


the Tribune been established, Henr^' J. Raymond's career 
tnight have been different. 

At the close of the Presidential canvass, Eaymond songht 
for a select school in which to teach, and he has himself told us 
that it was only upon the downfall of all such hopes, and in 
despair of finding anything to do at home, that he determined 
to try his fortune in the city of New York. Arriving there in 
December, 1840, knowing but one person in the whole city, — 
a student in a lawyer's office, — he ventured to make application 
to Horace Greeley for the place of assistant on the JSTew- Yorker, 
the little weekly journal which was the immediate predecessor 
of the New York Tr-ibune. Eor five years Raymond had been 
a subscriber to the JSfew- Yorker, and had occasionally sent con- 
tribiitions to its columns : and on the strength of this relation 
he made timorous advances to Mr. Greeley. But the result of 
the first inteiwiew was chilling ; the services of another appli- 
cant had just been accJfepted ; Greeley was poor, and his paper, 
like all of its class at that day, was unable to bear the expense 
of a larger number of assistants. Raymond, however, ob- 
tained permission to be in the office whenever he chose, and 
in return promised to give his help on any occasion when his 
services should be of value. On this anomalous footing he 
made his way towards the first round of the ladder of New York 
journalism. • 

Again pushing out upon the current, he advertised, through 
the National Intelligencer of Washington, for a school in the 
South, and while awaiting replies, occupied his leisure hours in 
reading law in the office of Mr. Edward W. Marsh, a member 
of the New York Bar. A part of each day for three weeks 
was passed by Raymond in the office of the New- Yorker, where 
a considerable share of literary work gradually fell into his 
hands. He writes of his life at this period : "I added up elec- 
tion returns, read the exchanges for news, and discovered a 
good deal which others had overlooked ; made brief notices of 
new books, ' read proof, and made myself generally useful. 
At the end of about three weeks I received the first reply to 
my advertisement, offering me a school of thirty scholars in 
North Carolina. I told Mr. Greeley at once that I should leave 


the city the next morning. He asked me to walk with him to 
the post-office, whither he always went in person to get his 
letters and exchanges, and on the way inquired where I was 
going. I told him to North Carolina to teach a school. He 
asked me how much they would pay me. I said, four hundred 
dollars a year. ' Oh,' said he, ' stay here — I'll give you that.' 
And this was my first engagement on the Press, and decided 
the whole course of my life." 

Eight dollars a week was meagre pay for the literary labor 
performed . by Raymond in his twenty-first year : — quite as 
meagre, in comparison with the quality of the work, as the 
paltry pittance of seventy-five dollars a year paid him in the 
country store at the age of fifteen ; but he did not repine, nor 
did he refuse the slice because the whole loaf was not at com 
mand. It was, however, simply impossible to live comfortabty 
upon his pitiful salary. By extra work, he was enabled to 
increase his income, and he did not disdain to weight his lean 
purse by writing daily advertisements of a vegetable pill for a 
quack doctor, at the rate of fifty cents for each production. 
Subsequently he obtained the situation of teacher to a Latin 
class in a young ladies' seminary in New York ; and, still later, 
eked out his means of subsistence by writing correspondence 
for the Philadelphia Standard, edited by E. W. Griswold ; the 
Cincinnati Qhronide, edited by E. D. Mansfield, afterwards the 
" Veteran Observer " of the New York Times; the Bangor Wliig, 
. and the Buffalo Oommercidl Advertiser. 

Thus the tide ran, — Raymond always floating with it, never 
overwhelmed, — until the spring of 1841 , when Horace Greeley 
established the New York Tribune. The few months' service 
which had been rendered by Eaymond made him a necessity to 
Greeley, and with the foundation of the Tribune were also laid 
the foundations of Raymond's future position and prosperity. 
Less than three months over age when he took the post of first 
assistant upon the Tribune, he at once threw his whole force 
into the profession which he then definitely determined to fol- 
low ; and so began a career v^hich culminated a few years later 
in a new era for Journalism in America. 

Twenty-one years of Raymond's life had passed before he 


became fast-anchored. Thereafter he was identified with news- 
paper life ; in it he made his reputation ; by it he amassed a 
competency; through its agency he rose to political prefer- 
ment, — and he died in harness. 

To his peculiar experiences in the office of the Tribune, a sep- 
arate chapter must be given. 





Horace Greeley has written of Henry J. Eaymond:* "I 
had not much for him to do till the Tribune was started ; then 
I had enough ; and I never found another person, harely of age 
and just from his studies, who evinced so much and so versatile 
ability in journalism as he did. Abler and stronger men I may 
have met ; a cleverer, readier, more generally efficient journal- 
ist I never saw. He remained with me eight years, if my 
memory serves, and is the only assistant with whom I ever felt 
required to remonstrate for doing more work than any human 
brain and frame could be expected long to endure. His salary 
was of course gradually increased from time to time ; but his 
services were more valuable in proportion to their cost than 
those of any one else who ever worked on the Tribune." 

The praise here bestowed is just — but Mr. Greeley's mem- 
ory is at fault. Mr. Raymond served upon the Neio-Yorlcer and 
the Tribune less than three years in all, — from December, 1840 
to April, 1841, on the New-Yorker; and from 1841 to 1843 on 
the T'ribune; the latter year being the date of his secession 
from the Tribune to join General Webb in the Courier and 
Enquirer. But Mr. Greeley is entirely right in the tribute he 
pays to Mr. Raymond's qualities as an efficient worker. 

Raymond set out with a resolute purpose, not only to estab- 

* "Recollections of a Busy Life," pp. 138-9. 


lish his own reputation as a journalist, but also to gain for the 
Tribune the patronage and the confidence of the reading pub- 
lic. To these ends he bent all his energies, and to his untiring 
perseyerance and his marked capacity the new journal owed a 
very large share of its early success. He wrote editorial arti- 
cles, clipped paragraphs from the exchanges, made up the 
news, prepared reviews of new books, reported the proceed- 
ings of public meetings^ and did with all his might whatever 
his hand found to do ; receiving, as the reward of all this 
wearing labor upon a daily newspaper, which required his ser- 
vices half the night, the same salary of eight dollars per week 
which had been paid him for the lighter and pleasanter day's 
work of a weekly journal ! 

Among the signal successes achieved by Eaymond, in the early 
days of his service for the Tribune, was the reporting of the 
scientific lectures delivered in New York by Dr. Dionysius 
Larduer, — a popular lecturer, very much overrated, who was 
then at the height of his celebrity. The lectures were deliv- 
ered in that extraordinary old church in Broadway called the 
"Tabernacle," long since pulled down, in which Jennj'^ Lind 
declined to sing because it was " an old tub," — and so it was. 
Eaymond, always swift-handed, had a stenographic system of 
his own, a kind of long-short-hand, by the use of which he was 
able to follow an ordinary speaker very closely ; and his reports 
of Lardner's remarks proved to be so accurate that the doctor 
adopted them, and with slight revision they were afterwards 
published in two octavo volumes. But on the night when the 
last lecture of the course was delivered, Eaymond fell ill. 
Coming out from the heated church, he found a tempest raging, 
and reached the Tribune office only after a thorough drench- 
ing. Sitting for hours in wet clothes, he finished his report, — 
a very long and excellent one, — and went to his home in the 
small hours of the morning, to wake next day in a violent 
fever. His room was on the upper floor of a boarding-house 
on the corner of Vesey and Church streets ; his means were 
limited; the attendance was poor; fare was scanty; neither 
family nor friends were near him ; it was altogether an unpleas- 
ant predicament. But he pulled through bravely. He had 


sickened in the service of the Tribune; and, as has too often 
occurred in Mt. Greeley's establishment, hard service was in- 
adequately rewarded. Some time elapsed before Greeley went 
to inquire about his assistant, the loss of whose aid was begin- 
ning to tell upon the paper. Then a conversation occurred, 
something like this : — 

"When will you be well enough to come back?" said 

"Never, on the salary you paid me ! " replied Raymond. 

Greeley inquired how much Kajniiond wanted. " Twenty 
dollars a week ! " said Raymond. Greeley protested angrily 
that he could pay no such price ; but he finally yielded, and 
the previous relations were restored. 

Mr. Raymond, in' conversation with the writer of these 
pages, ten years later, alluded to this tilt with Mr. Greeley; 
and in speaking of the Times — then on the eve of publication 
— obsei*ved that he desired no man to perform services for his 
own paper for the inadequate remuneration he had himself 
received during his connection with the Tribune. When 
Raymond took his stand for pay equivalent to the value of the 
services rendered, Greeley j'ielded ; but so long as the sub- 
ordinate did not I'ebel, the chief did not relent. It is the mis- 
fortune of some men to be too patient; of others, to be -exact- 
ing and ungenerous. The relative positions of Henry J. 
Raymond and Horace Greeley at this period of their lives 
furnish striking illustrations of the result of such conditions. 

A pleasant reminiscence of Mr. Raymond's connection with 
the Tribune was given by Mr. Thomas McElrath, at a dinner 
given at Delmonico's, in New York, on the 10th of April, 1866, 
in commemoration of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the birth 
of that journal. Mr. McElrath, alluding to the gentlemen 
originally engaged upon the Tribune, said that Mr. Raymond 
had contributed greatly towards securing the recognition of the 
jounuil as a leading newspaper of the day. He spoke of Mr. 
Raymond as an able and graphic reporter, who f)Ossessed the 
faculty of presenting to his readers a pen-picture of events as 
they transpired, in a manner scarcely ever equalled by any 
journalist. Mr. McElrath " alluded particularly to the reports 


made by Mr. Raymond of the celebrated Colt murder case, 
which at the time occupied the attention of the whole country, 
and also to the equally celebrated Mackenzie trial. These 
cases were sketched at length in the columns of the Tribune by 
Mr. Raymond, in an elaborate and attractive manner. Mr. 
McElrath said that these reports added several thousand sub- 
scribers to their list during the pendency of the trials, and that 
nearly all who were thus induced to become patrons of that 
paper, continued until the journal became an established insti- 

In 1843, however, wearied by long and ill-paid service, — 
and somewhat disgusted withal, — Mr. Raymond accepted a 
good offer from the -proprietors of the Oourier and Enquirer, 
ahd turned his back forever upon Mr. Greeley and the Tribune. 
A new phase of his life had begun. 

Here let us pause, to undertake a passing review of the 
course of New York Journalism. In order to arrive at a correct 
understanding of the radical changes which Mr. Raymond was 
instrumental in introducing into the conduct- of great news- 
papers in New York, it is essential to remember the character- 
istics of the journals which had existed for many years before 
his appearance in the field of contest. 











WATSON Webb's eidicdle of horace geeelet's peesonal appearance — 
geeeley's eeply — the tribune's " slievegammon " hoax' — BUENisG of 

THE tribune office — THE TIDE CHANGING. 

The easy style of journalism prevailed in New York prior 
to 1840. The heavy, old-fashioned, "blanket sheet" news- 
paper, with which the steady merchant of pure Knickerbocker 
descent had been accustomed to season his morning cup of 
coffee, and the equally huge evening sheet which conduced to 
his post-prandial refpose, were the best he or his fathers had 
known. Those days were serious. No flippant flings disturbed 
the equable flow of journalistic inanity. When two editors 
differed, one shot the other, quietly, in a duel; or else there 
was a lively horsewhipping scene in the public streets, a full 
description of which appeared, on the following day, in the 
newspapers owned by the horsewhipped men.* There was no 
telegraph before the year 1843 ; there were no fast ocean 
steamers till a period still later ; no Associated Press organiza- 
tion simplified the processes of obtaining news. In fact, — 
and justice requires it to be said, — it was not until James 

* Seethe Commercial Advertiser, the Courier and Enquirer, and the Herald ot 
the period. 


Gordon Bennett set the example, in 1835, that the conductors 
of public journals cared to publish intelligence too freshly. 
Like epicures, they waited for the food to age. All the old 
and heavy-weighted journals, which lazily got themselves be- 
fore the New York public, day by day, thirty years ago, were 
undeniably sleepy. Their dulness and inaptness had become 
traditional by long custom ; and a remarkable illustration of 
this is afforded by a passage in Mr. William C. Bryant's "Eem- 
iniscences of the Evening Post," — a very readable review of 
the first half-century of that journal, — which was first pub- 
lished in its columns in November, 1851, and was subsequently 
reprinted in a shilling pamphlet, now out of print. Mr. Bry- 
ant wrote : — 

" In the Evening Post, during the first twentj'' years of its 
existence, there was much less discussion of public questions by 
the editors than is now common in all classes of newspapers. 
The editorial articles were mostly brief, with but occasional 
exceptions ; nor does it seem to have been regarded, as it now 
is, necessary for a daily paper to pronounce a prompt judgment 
on every question of a public nature the moment it arises. 
The annual message sent by Mr. Jefferson to Congress, in 1801, 
was published in the Evening Post of the 12th of December, 
without a word of remark. On the 17th, a writer, who takes 
the signature of Lucius Cassius, begins to examine it. The 
examination is continued through the whole winter ; and, 
finally, after havuig extended to eighteen Ambers, is concluded 
on the 8th of April. The resolutions of General Smith, for 
the abrogation of discriminating duties, laid before Congress 
in the same winter, were published without comment ; but a 
few days afterwards they were made the subject of a carefully 
written animadversion, continued through several numbers of 
that paper." 

The ruthless Bennett shocked the staid propriety of his time 
by introducing the rivalries and the spirit of enterprise which 
have ever since been distinguishing characteristics of New 
York newspaper life. The only cheap papers, in 1840, which 
pretended, with any show of reason, to publish all the news of 
the day, were the Herald, and Moses Y. Beach's Sun; and 


although the former of these was low and often scurrilous, and 
the latter silly, they attracted readers among the younger in- 
habitants of New York, who had begun to tire of the Dutch 

It was a shrewd movement of Horace Greeley to take ad- 
vantage of this change in popular sentiment. He says of the 
first number of the Tribune, issued April 10, 1841: "It 
was a small sheet, for it was to be retailed for a cent, and not 
much of a newspaper could be afibrded for that price, even in 
those specie-paying times. I had been incited to this enter- 
prise by several Whig friends, who deemed a cheap daily, ad- 
dressed more especially to the laboring class, eminently needed 
in our city, where the only two cheap journals then and still 
existing — the Sun and the Herald — were in decided, though 
imavowed, and therefore more eifective, sympathy and affilia^ 
tion with the Democratic party. Two or three had promised 
pecuniary aid if it should be needed; only one (Mr. James 
Coggeshall, long since deceased) ever made good that promise, 
by loaning me one thousand dollars, which was duly and grate- 
fully repaid, principal and interest." 

Cheap papers — three in number — having thus come into 
existence, the sixpenny mammoths began to gasp. Their day 
was done. From 1843 to 1850, indeed, Raymond made a 
strong effort to restore to Webb's Courier and Enquirer some 
measure of its departed glory, and hi& celebrated discussion with 
Greeley on the subject of Socialism gave it a temporary re- 
vival ; but he became discouraged with the effort, and finally 
established the Times. The Times lived, and the Courier and 
Enquire)' died. In the eternal fitness of things, hoary age thus 
gave place to lusty youth. The old Journal of Commerce, 
which still exists, lives because the older men died out of it, or 
left it, and the red blood came in ; and it is to-day one of the 
four papers* in New York which return enormous profits. 

Between the extremes of dull respectability and bold inde- 
cency, of portentous heaviness and unsubstantial froth, came 

* The Herald, the Times, the Journal of Commerce, and the Evening Post, — 
each of which made clear annual profits of from fifty thousand to one hundred 
and twenty-five thousand dollars, in 1868-9. 




TOI,. I. WO. I. J 




■ coBipuiy *uh IkiV I.. VartM, Vayor erf Iba cily of Now ! 
vcn: I., the hMi>.« of Mr. Pirrf. n p^r a^ctai fAnrdcitr*. , -■- ' 

III iLc ra»* (.rHpx TB. Dr. Pncrill, C> ^"^'il- 319,) ih" <^oan tiffaitr m , neJiaul. 
ole r(:r,u!nu; thr tHJok* oftbc c(ir]HFrK(^io (rf Ot/uri.'. in b« onnp for ! been *uppo>r(J hy 

r-to««,C»«R^',Orricr.Al(»«y.JBi«.rTlI,IM;. ■ "">•" r«.r» th,» for ». Gl^^iwonL . .uid h^ ihr.efur,- ,^r„^J u, ; «.- ,o K-ht , .ij„orr „« u. ru,..,.h i.-' , «... befcrotb^ court 

»W tfcr bmor U>.rkau«M(« (b« f«^ipl of r«*r E«- , ^^Jr'T,.,.^ l 'atornwl hUo ihai », m««Ulr«tr. •« en,^ .-„«. li. lfc<- ra.o of p.m v.. Div.-a .Jc^id^;^ Bura. 16.C.. .ubpo>u Ju- i If wy par!, J-*,r« to k** .- Mi, 

At-toime* GBmm^L's OrriCK. Albftsy, Jauuy 

*R — I kavp tkr b*sor u> •ckaowMgc (b« reuiipi of row r E 

ftrfj*r«:j-j *-c.Mi»uaie*Uo«. wg«thar wrtb a Mpf of U« f'fcwgn of I 

Robert H. Hum*, Em^. &«cordn- of tfa«> div of N*w York, to Om I 

Grind J*.f y of that County. dolt**rMl ia Nontub^r taiL 

My aH*-Dii<-Q I panickilarly iire'led to lito portiua of tlv» ehaif • 
wtorda tli« R^cordf^t drtaibi (hr aunnor ta which tbe (fwumony Ukkfc ; 
before (h« e.tatttain^ majfnirau on ■ <:karf« ■raiuKl Jaru^r If. Glcnl- j 
worU WM iB3tJp ()i»blk, uil kUo to (h*t portiuD lu wbirb ihn RccurJer | 
Mat»> the msonrr of bir Mixiuf e<^^taJB jiBpor* in tbo piMir^atoii cif ■ ; 
Mj. Pierc*. b«)«nguif (o tb^. mikI f>kiu<rorth ; nud lay opiniOD tf d'-- 1 
Mf«d, wb^tber tk« proetediftfa us ihoM orca&iooi arc jualiiod by ta« I "] 

kiiil lo pro- 

Ill an «li<-iuiuiainf 

- of ihr nfht of a 

jiua/ for riiber lo art 

r of any othrr judso 

Ibr cidai'nl'lralMD of jaalK*, (n unparnu ln« |iulic>-il froBi th*- 
ir-iil (luiica, .lad cmami' tbpiu to diatiDicl clariwj cf offlrera. \ 
* dirti « inl^r'-kanfratilr, ai»5 mora tban ari: lh_ ^ppro 

' ;T I V ^'^r'"^ .''■'''' ■*'*7''''''i'''''''''"* ■»■""" 'hall to ramprlbul .= . 

-fthnl'-e"!"*:*''. aod f^ »*• --xmuIi** drparlnieiil* of goArowrot. i a^ajii.t him-etf.- ia luwrl-d .o tb< 

I %f.r I- ibe ..f dou« accid^nUJ. or intiaawnaJ. i,r lotoaded 1 rran^i-tl >■> ih- r^-.k...-.™ „r ifa. 

•mall, au-l '-b'v-L*:J. uud bounik-d uo aJI <-itl«i b' 
.odep..od«l po,^, vhicU ar, devol.ed »{»» oih-r.. Ti,,- .. but aVal^Uii^D of tho iaaju^^r .rf ih< 

hich confrrr^ uyon hita tbn powar. to do al! lliin;a wb\ 

iioKm Ihn a^cuniy of liberty. 

Uw oftbeknd. 

Tbpfc i^ BO iloabt of tta« rif bt of the R»rordf: 
Ud cosmlhng «afiatrmte, uv mure Ihaa iti, 
jud(« oftbe Supreme CoiuT. atthoUKh il U u 
U tbal nqMcity ; and i« cu? of tbe K^cijr4fi 

who In to IT)- (^ ■r,?Mad IB ciMe h<i la indkind, ii w oot. p«rhap'>. fnr 
thfe adraaceBpnt of juattee Uul bi< Buad ihould b« prc-orrupiad w iib 
Ikeragoe aad U, «« H«teiu«Dta of a prduoiBarr cxiLnaJutiuo. On-; 
■Vfirtruc iHr, ali«, by ttalute, • rtfbt to bwmicuU anotber >iitb bim 
ia tb« examJOitioa— « pn viVg« wbieb a Jiuilcc of tfau p^ac*, not axp« 
ricar«d U crioiiiiBl lav, «ft«ii essrcistw, in diiSf utt «iul mportaal 
E«*w. »iib Mlrosta^e lo tb« pabUe. 

Tberfl i>, thrrefor«, oo froiiMJ la tki* rcap'ft fnr tbc rba-v« wbu-b I 
Uie B«C'jnlu aJlegea ha.> b««f] Mia/ls afminat bin, of D'uri'iu; ^<> k 
a«borily wbtcb dOM mt bc4uf lo b» officn. Bi»Z<M ike txo^t*aH^ ^ "■" P"""^"'*^ 
IM/ e««ti«ii«i V***" 1^ •«i»*i^ had kifm zir9u%%llt4 for triai. A* 
•ooD M tbe nuf iatraU u MiLafied thai (ufliri^Qt t.AU-tj •x.:«t4 for 6*- 
MioiOf Ibe a^ctwed, tbe objoct of lK« etamuuLion ix altuoed, aod alt 
trnmocy lakea »ftr*- Ou M«»il«tiii, u Likra witboui juri*JieiiOD. 
and la a ■wnifaat unrpation of ib« powors and duUer uf the p-aud 
idqu'-t of Um CoiiMy. 

Tba cb«rfa that ti« ajMrnaanoa «aj trniHu-iional. m ei^vally uo- 
fooodad, prwvidad il aaa coodtKted la food f-uth. If tbf irue inteBi 
waf lo avEcrtaiB wb«tber tbcre •rcro TKUoaaljle frovoJa to briix-s 

tbal file «t worth »«a ginllT of lb* erma inai'utftH lo bim, snd uoo« but i . ,- . - ^ -. . 

lo«limony pertiaeal and pr',?«r for ibo ourpo-c waj aJlovrd, lh» I !„ J"" 'I?; 'S' ■="!^"'-'^' •.tfic-n. provided by hr* 
nBeMlrat«didBaimiri>ttijci hiiidut). . ' '5 Howf.l . Slato TrLiL. I"-, -H. 

Buiif lurb wiyr nottb«rf5J iownl— if, und^eoIOTof iBt'stifraLoir ' _ "Tie roo-miorncps foxing from tlrn 'lortnoe that ih« acl of tb« 
a chwv" afamat UI*.«l*orth. irrelevant tr,i,inouy waa rer. iTed. and I .^<^'*1" i»., mit aa(bonz«d ' oOcUl • act, will 6* found iololerabla. 
porwio.- rtippoeed to be iffl|4ieat«d wdre called ii|mo a* tntmiitty in- i '"T "^ 'an' every Uouac tarthnctty mirbf mitrfd by tbii roafia- 
Fto;id of beina rhar«ed aa maaoaaZ*. aud rom[N-HBd to iMUfy nodcr K^^'-.'t "" I""'"'** - "''' *"*"' 'ommimn* mj^wimlej) br day or 
o«tb »« l(. ihflir own cooduri. raih^r than to tbnl of lileoHioflti. Ih«-ti [ °\ "'?»»-»"'' =ejrrhed without »arraoi an^i sKb imFuu.ty. aad 
wk- U.* invcaU^lOD ui clear riobUOB of th^ grr-al prin. ipi.- which i "IT™ "'"'* »« «. b« ■« c«u^ tfiP injurrd party ,k » ilhoul rrdr«^ 
dirt.nfui«he» a rnurt from no ,i».uintioii. thai ■■ no man 'Uil:! ' ■ b-ld ' , ^*"* '"'■"'"»''«*«• «'■•" not-lmoa ibc cmleoct of ihn ntbt. {wbirh 
to atc\ut tum-*lfr \ ''l^ '^' P'f-^"' ^J l»e«I./ but from (A« aidaaii in whirt, 

li bpptmn by ihe Recorder'^ •t;tl<-mrni, Ibal Iho l^^tiuiony t.ibeo 
brfora b«i, «> tbr cEaaiiniaf tqa|>>(tralo, wwi published b/i ii wo^ 
laitCB IVoM day lo day. la Um pvlilic jouroaU. cith hi^, know Wife bbJ 
coiuaaL, aBd id kout de^ m«, ander bii ■iip«riiilcBdMi''c 

Tbe commoa bur, is tt* hsmaBa and poliuc wa:rhfula4a« to fuard 
Iba tBBOCcal alaHMl froM the poMibiiiljr of buing cDDfouiMled witb tbo 
fuiilT, fi*e« to every ooe vbo ia accuaed of a 'J^oie, tba MlriaUifs of 
l»o triai-. 

Tbe 8ni i» beiur* tb* flraod Jury, and in merely a t^crti. n pmrit 
iBquiajtifiD. t» aaccrtaiD U tbrre be auScient efideace lo jiuufv tbair i 
MakiBj the chiiife public, aaif patliaf tbo Bceoaed upoo hit dnfc»e« 

Ltsd tbom to UK. I iafomnd falB that ai magUlratrn 
pelttrf la lakr ikmm, aad unlnaa they were airi 

reed W i^air't bU how* (or thrtil Mr. Pi-rr^ .ulcd if wb 'a^ not .. 
k^al r;fh( uj (As them, bn vouUl under no rirruButiacFi pi*,, [dm 
lo Uf. 1 Hifoim-d bin) ibnt »f ind only had th~ b^sl nybt, hul our daty tamptiUd as to uidta an efibii to r>bt«in ih>iu. And I 
no»f fUte, if Mr. PiPrta bud uenriA>^d lO bu refuni to git„ ,j, tbr. 
pinpctj, 1 kould hat' prifcc«ded and •rjnrbed bu^ouro for tbem." 

'■ \V<t wrrn there- ib oor p^cJ eJiaractcra." I esc liiuj no .tuiutc 
aad iio jiric'ipl,, o: ^•^□■■r^l law, wbu-.k BiakM il ih» duly nf ih<? Mayor 
nd Rftordw* ti* seorcb (he bouaea of cirixe**, under any pretpQcn 
Tb- ncbl of raarrb maj •tint, a* it c»rtajs1y dooi by 
-lalol-, in riff 1 of riolen ^d embeu^lod foodi ; bnC is ^ueb ra»t« i( 
19 made thi* duly of tbe inini»urtBl oCcera 4f cutirL'-'ibe irhcnif, tlia 
uarrh^ ali'i thA coBflabl'tJ. 

The mafi'lrate hat ao more r'jfhl te msku tho iear^h, this a eon- _ _. 

taldfl ba- t- make Ibn wnmti'. The Uw faaa dewoed i^t ftn.^ruoi to | pco'ai ^v.". Ibe ,l^Andani.. .-..« «, 

'"" ' ' ' th»ui[h hr .houlJ tioW it i.. hi- hfui'i- 

ao TKaJli tmpotuut ia Ibi- protr-^n deoniM that lb" deFlaralioD 

dy cfrvurclF.d with Ibt offrace charged, iM" | Bui (be writ OkusJly imm-.d ii 

lo br rvixaSte by th« ofBcnrr fnr (bBl rr^i^u. | faners! and pprpediaj n rit [i 

cc or neceadty itflvbe allowed, fci l uddcacribnd ao p« 'm. 

a luesiioa.lh'vca/e'gf a -cizuntof ! sol rr^uire^ (o Im rrlurued. 

prarid*d md pr'arnhed (he luan- | ftcorder tliau 'ika a wn; or ». 

cvideirri in ao) ci^il or ertminQl power, vhirh waji not etb^^'* 

or any liuisbpr ufcat**. 1 ^ 

If aay par!* d^^irei to v»r, »■• etidencc, papiTi la the po*«e>unoii of ' eomiauiimi, lo lufcr hi4 owa 

the other party, be nmri ii># notice to produce thrm. ja-i if boI pro- | traf^'k oaiy by ieipli 

- l.'oa>iiiu[ioB of ihn I ait-d ?l3lwi. 

:rpn:U»d in ihc CwB^uimutn of tha Ijtate, aud reiieratrd io >>ur "KB 


. .... ■ ^^ Recorder adroiL", or rather ia»tiJi<*» hinyelf, or. srouiid, ' ihal 

i d«.prTandiror6T,t«tp.iiwtplo. Al.-noii alti then. „ «, .„ran( kaowu to lb« Uw lo ^arch for tA.omoov V II* 

ab-"lute K^ennnu. •*..! ud m,* e,*r^|«-d placM the ri^bt upon what he c.lto ■ the -jrM .ud . oalr.rfUo^ pt»r.».H 

ii^^rr^■ hv .i.i ^ •^^r-:!';; .> ;^t; '^" ""* f '«^'«-'« ""» ' "f common law ,- wh^b he a««in. to be ■ tho rubl fofih^ itViwuta) 

(tVrry. by tbia mwuta and careftil d»tribulton loio ,b« de,,,rtm.Qt, , to do erer, ihio. nr«...rv lo protect the coLimu».ly at -arr- wainJ 

Ud ofofflco-, ,o thai i-ie power e-Hniurtled lo wy „ac mu j *., depredal.owVftlon.. V-iih Urt k..| |K.^,l.)^...;i,v t„ .VTig*.-- 

L- ih. -.r,r,^,ttd, but ! priTilT[o«andp«>;jany -rfiudividtial^-' 

dare tfarrn loucbiT', nbii:^ b=it been produred t»d i&aittod Ujioa lit , durod, be taay jeivfl piuv! r>idei)en of iti«ir content*, 
one Mr. P>>>cb. ib« Jpf-ndouC cl.-i-i, 'jd(o" a rae-ler la ebaac-r ; , and ^ Tkfl tc-e of Res tx. Wauon aad *L 'J T. R. IIIP. ara>> a 
tbia tiir.fMTtia K.ih ttlc dnc«* tr-cuiQ, wai id ordfr to fouai* a pro-e- u- for a eriininR) taforuuiou for a libet eonalKing is a ^erla 
(iOE by way of it>d:<-ti3cac mtoiO't Ct^rh, who hi»d prMtitxi ih"m 1 acd ordor e.ii-red in ror;,rrt^Uo(. book*, 
rouchf^ra hnfbro Ihc master, fur fttTfrry. .Mt. DUmi refui*.! lu o^- ' ^oti^r /.'>aid, "U bu bees totem aly dciermi&ed thai 
peur. On notiuii for :iB aiiacbmeoi. Lord MaK^Ci-M w«« r'rcjrly of I prnaeri.tioa you mny fire r^otie* to s drf<;odaat io DroJi 
upiDiun Cuti ' %r. DiicQ wa, ant FunficiluM'' lo Aidtvtt up tb^»e p«- ' ' ' 

hii rtl^ifi. asd ihl'I iiiKt>«d 0f produnof them apuiail hi> 
iiiul. be i)u;ht :nrc*diaiiHty upt>t. rt^^nip; tbe Kubp^xio du'-.r^ to- 
iffl. lo hare il-titrred lttf» up lo bi" 'JI>"jL' 

rto Jo ttji cik»e of llililrn aod K«y w. IlarTev, t Rur 5W9, T^rd 

iy», 'Ibnl w cinl fji/^rr, the ri,uri wiU force partie* lo pfi>- 

C" whurta may pro^e a^ais*! tb«n<'<lvM, or It^ve tbr- refd- 

■0^ ptrPUmfiiMMi to lh-> jury ; but la a erinliiiid or 

prodo-e aay e>idi.-ai:^, i fbe c^urt 'cy, "Thij. KMacdary eridnwe ra« properly re«Bi»ed, 
beraii** it waa tbe bar. eviacnre 'u th" pcf^fiMwa <rf (??• p«ie«jTitioa. 
I: IK 'h« fcm^ l''iin; i*!. e. :be poaa^anoo of tjia p.qH!rs, 07 tba »=««iae^i 
aa if th^^ntar^ ictdenii mo* aetuaii^ dtrtrvftd. "ttM pn^r^pie of 

•or.h eaao*, aiul ti^n praynrf f. 

WBB dirnrjrd to bo iior 
*c or pl-ci to *io i»a»--'.,*a snd C * '.< 
t «^ mo* e tike ina rtta-n-mnoa ^i^ 
rraat. I'. w«j iba murrr tif ■ 1 naiTB.T 
<^ bj beine e^octfi'd is »c.a w cav 
oiily diSarcnco U, Ibac-tte Rara<i«^ 
coDifiuci^m. ri^' hi» Uwp»«car 
•t ot iialinBtaor c/«M- 


I mii-iiuB of (ii« oujtouj-bvu*^ officer "ivea the tataf power by e 

applicuioa , vardf. 

I r'^loIutioD, . Tbo caose "(erted infose It 

I th^ wholf pexiple. Oridi-i', thi 

I a criminal I Icf ality. " It ia tnut," raiJ b«, ' __ 

i a paper ia are ukea away ia mii e:iM ; but erra their pn>ii^«* era aot ■:«.£ .« 

ib- poaa^Mioa, a.r]d if be ref;ja^« you may giVG otbi-r ei^.tlerjce of it.'' aae«of rrlm.i and tine. It u lit aece^rily of the caac. asd tke tt¥-% 

~ :aM:of tbf Suie, Tfl. Kiabbojgb, %l Dr^irnaui. •*■>. Or, Rep. of the rerenuw, that ju-ti6«l ihai wnl." 

• I caae of murder, and amice wv fireit Ifte p'-iv>aer to pro- I Tb' R/<ewrder will here c^ain reco^aixa; hia priBcipk af " patot 

ndry popen, «i-^ oa rcfiisal, parat Kvtdetfe o'' their 'rontenti : tncf^altj." 

ItwL Bui »o far wai the njht of te^cfa aaJ f^izarr of pa- | Mr. Thatcher. * Tery etaiseQt lawyer, wko waa ittlnd ^ tae ta w g 

I* eaaa froia beii^ admitted, ihU the rouaae) for (be pnaonnr 
ri-ouou>ly objected. evES to tbe adraicaiaa of aay evidenm of tlie 

•earch for ]>rncedeau. reifOrtwl that he fi/uad no eurh wni i 
■ncieat hook*. 

Jame« Otm, whoM iistme fro^a iti ideaiificatica with tklt CAjt**, ha 
beco;D«a part of ok.- MiRury *aiCAUMf >ipon aa ad<r(K<«ta-ftBenlkM 
vgnc Eh' cauae oa iIm itde uf th« Kiof. bu^ b* rvfaanl to 9*(^, •«- 
HTusd tt* o€ie«, aad itpposrcd ir Ltu> Uta.> 'a b^ha^d tbeciilMM«dr 
BmIod. Si^iie lntpcrfpcl frumeau 01 htf maaieh oa lata one ■■«% 
vtuck ti»] ti^ behiDd 11 a tradilionary faxMOf beinir ai>e of tar H^ 


. . . er>mpeUed to jiva _ . . , 

j itaiT^jit tunxelf, aaariioood by the bill of rij^hta, ^rrotecta the dcl'iLdAat **- (^"^EXiniu af h:^ eml patriotic '^laqaeece, 3n> repui 

! 10 ibi poTrQuion of lit* |>rinur> cvidaAca. Tie object of tie M>ttc- [ JTinefa history of the p^ir-.xt of Kil«>■r.h4ae{l^ (5d toL PL) A 

I ia Qoi (o tt-mprt ibe prod'jclk'ii of {be pcper, (for ac nei ^overit o^ 4irttact* will show the k^irit wh.'^ii urvra-iled at Ehti day. 
i —aae^ rUMrr dirrala or •mdvuti«,> hy plng^mf hLic uader adinaJiaa- i Ho ^&yt . " 1 vlO to av dyiiu liay, ofipoaa with all the f aaakj a 
' lajT' if !j« do^ ocl produce iL" ' which fJod baa^^nn B>a, ail «ncb uuam^nttiM uT .lancry oc th« oMt 

^bu irate of the Uait«d fluica t^. Bnttoa, (J lla>N>n. 4'M,) waa a cxae i bosd, aad rilUiay ins toe other, »• tbia whr af aiaiirf.u^t. u- k af» 
' of f<)Tjfi-4 Biit-u. reii!aiaiBjr in th«> psaaeoitfB oi tbe former. The dl»- [Wtars to me the woral inatrunKa: at artiilrary powe,-. the mvttafe- 
■ tj-irt aiioro'-v did .lot a^k Ja<itri.- 8lor* for a warrant 10 tearrh Acd tructi"-- of (i'-»»iv, md the ftindamenuO priceif.Iw of law. tea. esiw 
rucia, Lor did he aak the vcaer^bii: Jodife 10 d«-weod from the 1 *" found la nn En^iah law book. Evarr oAe ' 

Kntiek r*. ( arrmrinTt fht-mn^r trfrrr-A m \ •_. •k.i .k. . ..ij _ j ., . . " '. . 

EoiKk T». CarriDVioii rbeiesAer iffrrred lo.) waa Ihal the warrant 
Had by th- Serrttar) of ir^taie, tbtou^b bia priotc aerrnjjU, 
nick dutic-.— 

light r 

aMed that it »a» (bit diciatoriaJ powrra^-umcd uod'-r tb" iV.tuj of re- 
pabficaa liberty, that waa th- maia itutrumnoi 1.1 >wt^liBhiC7 .mpe. 
rut and (yraiiDic powei. It !■ rertWoly extiaordiiiJti ibut th<: firii 
imd cootrolUof prinrljilr of our fr^ecooiraon b*, •<■ careful of private 
riyhta aed ladiviitucl indepcBdence, tojeokiui ofdKcreii'intry power 
ew>o in the hipbert jad^f*. aliuukt eontVr upon an iof-:nor iijiBi^traT,?. 
a jOfticA nf the ^0mi:' or a police nfficar. ii power Ibo -•■no id lU nature 
a-, fta' which lh« KonMQ*. in [her ejirrinf •-inor^eiiTiea, croaicd for 
thi" pur^Hjse of ,-u'pendioc """ I"" ' T.ic propo-iliuo i' .;>t-.nli.i(o4e, 

'lUch i hrti'-h and fo and aeizc iheoi hiouelf: 
a rapial,' I (hn note* ;feti*rail> in the tn<l'.r:[iteat, and Ir 
icb in bia f Iba pr;jon5r, to pmuuc^ the onpioal-.. 10 f\< 
It n/^d i;ol be ; ooot<ut», which the court partnitted htai 

iteply dcaired to dcic/ibo 
p^mutled, afler BOlice 10 
e paj-oi e^idajce al their 

Tbe*e rare*, and hua'ireds of oiber* ibat otight be adduced, akott 
me-d clearly wivtt ta the fttfAlAiebed prsctice wLaa tbe paper* ^e la 
lb' idual pcwpaAiim nf tbe accu>i<>ii, 

Hul -BpiK»!>. an 13 thin cau... i:.e p^»err are ia Ae basda of a (bird 
pe;-.,ou, thfl pracliCR lo eiu^Ily weU evlabliabad, that the court will 
■jitiit: a fuhp/xan^ctt tectan if nicu peraon, orderiitf bim to come in- 
to court artd brinif tbe papen witn h:m ; aod Buch periran will, theo 
ciid EbCTF, in open cauii^ give bu rea^uILf fur uoi pr..Klu<;inf the pa- 

- , - -, , — , — , pflf, that they are Ihe pnraiepopora of the accBMQ, ee*ltd )ip hyku*., 

whaa II ia aiaencd by one of the judzMi of tbe Liod. It ba< been j aad d>.hre.-ed lo witnu^i for rafe fc»rtKO£4 Uid tbe rourt wttL :n pub- 
tbou^at tha: multilui^e ofla^i. defiuioe minaiel) the rifhu aad du- . li^ nad on 'oleaia arr-uninnl, dtcide whether ihey cab Icfally break 
ilrw of eitizena, aod Ivaviaf aothmg lu the di<«retiao of jutt^e^,, ,* the 1 (hat (<ul and •■Lit lach pa|>er; of the accua^ in cTideace agaioat bim- 
b«kl evidence uf a free pcupl'i. 1 «siC 

Il ka. pasHsI uun a ma.Tiin ih« (hat people i. in a miserable ••rvi- ' Ic (Be r:»»e of Ih'- (.'aited 8lito« v?. Aaros Burr, indicted for high 
ttule ^OBA laws ore Tagne sfd uorertnio ,' and what .-aore va^ne thaa I trraaon, Ch. J. MarahuU. jireBie.] a atibpi^i^a dwccr Itiam tu the Pie- 
tho dlacreiioQ of c/>urt« Kthcwr nmnber- srocbugin^ srerv day. a# tb ■ aideat wf tbe L'BiLeiT Btailci, (o produce ■ priraie letter, which oai 
what i» ' aecoaeary lo proli'ct the ptMihr <' 7>n vrty d»bffliti<M of a I averred by tnp d'-feuoaat 'obemalTiaJ to hiadefiSace. Indeed it caa- ; 

-■ -■hoao rif ht* and danoB arc pr*:-cribfld by the diserwtioD ' aot be pnrtcnded liiat there ia aay dilTcTeB<« io tbe mamncr of] ^owd^ tiudje 

brioit'iic eridfi.c. parol w ^nlten, before tha court, la cirtt aud ' •"" - - 

; if ibia commujioa Cm U^, a lyraat, la a l*;aj 1 
•ay iUo cooiroi, impriwn or niarder aay oac in (hf raalm. -Kisser- 
Ktaal ; (here 1/ ao retara. A nta U aecoamtabte to o* vera^ftr 
kiadaiair>' Eirgry man io«y reifn «e«im Lo hi* pettj (yraaafi "*' 
tpre^ (ftrror and Jewlatioa aruuod bta. uatil the trD«p of the ^A- 
■asel thai! etcitc AxStncl emouoca la hia taul. A peric« wilk Av 
wnt in ibe day iiDie ni4.y enter all boaaea, abi^ &c. at wii^ ^A 
eommaad all to uaixt bim." 

" A man'* ^OiUie hi« cattle ; and whUaHto ia quiet. h« ia aa <nM 
fuerded j* a prince m bw raaile. Thl^ -writ. If it ahoatd be julImJ 
fefdl, would ((rtalh auDibilaiT. ihia pnvtiece. Cu(tasi-bu«aeHfe*a* 
ti>y <nitcr our hou>ea wb«n i'avy ptoUc ; wn ere commesded ta f«r. 
■lit their •urry. Their meaia' e>rTast« may cater, ait'i t»reak lai^ 
inn, and every thlo; la their way ; and vbether ihay bnrak Ibra^h 
malicatrf- r^veni^re. ne-it.aii, ao court, eaa liKjuire. £«re au^iamw 

Tbe elder John Adatn*. thee a-yoiinf man. vie pr<>«eal at ikia ■»- 
Biorible dcii3t>-, aad loap after tbe ■tvrm of (ha -evolution '■■! iiJi 
•id'J. he diTlared. ' I do uv that Kr, i^tia'a orati-m afaiaM vrw aif 
Kuittam-e Lreatbed in!n thi* o:.tJon (he breath of life. Americakb- 
dxpeTb-'eiice wu theo euJ there born. Erary Maa of aa iMaa^Mi 
Appeared to ate to ^ away aa 1 did, ready I*«aaB 
of •lairtaoce. Tbea aod ttter« wk£ the MaK 

bo4bre the 

Tha aecoad u before ib« PaCit Ivrf. vhare the ariaODer ia called 
upon lo daay the chaise, aad u heard id hia deleaca. The firtl ia 
■atret ; the accoad le public. 

Euiaunatioiu l-cfore miriaLmuM are dm inala. T.he ovideoce la 
■M ^vn for the purpotc of eafajilMai'a; tkc gnxll or tutaccwcc of the 
•cataed, but merely lo enable the moii'traie to eiercUe a proper dia- 
arstioo ia diarbarginr, committiav, or hdlilinf him in bail Thia pre- 
Imiaary examination ia raadnred necexeary ouly becauec th* Graad 
Jury IS nat always id pe*tioB. Wban in >«s*ioa, tbo proof* ud 
charf e<i mav be acot direcU.v befofe it. 

But Ihe "tidcice, when 'jikeabefure tte Gra»d Jury, m r^urKd to 
b« kept necrei. fi it pmncr, Ihan, thai th" wifne taftitaouy ahottid 
Baaareei.anly be mn"** pufrfic by the commiltinK mA)(i»tra!< ) 

Th* Krand juror* err ■>Torn to aecrfiicy, aad oat allowed to diaeloaa 
Ike avidsoce piven before tiiroi, eaexpt in eertaia eaaea •oeeififcd ia 
Um alalutc, iK.H.-m (3). 

There is BO pOMiiive atotuta requirinf tha eKa»iiutiD-ia before the 
BBftatratav (O be eouductcd prirate); ; but their tiruat, 
the iaqann taken before lh« Graad Jury, lodicatea ve-y 
I^Taat itaproprieiy of nay unoaiuJ aad uaaecesMari- puHi 

Thee ■ . . -. ■ 

an be< 
lo aJI raRca of eearch authi/riy«d by ike ctatufc tba part? on »h'«' 
romulwtn It U made, d«., it ol hia ;«;nL f-ei re&AarraaLi for atolea 
cood« areprorided by.Utulr-i yet id B'wtock »j. Paundere. 3 WiL 
■t, 3J, UiA ("ouri n; . - Li cute of a-atch-wanaat* for aLoleu gooda, 
the iaformcr makt-." fuilU that a frl')ny ha- bftra committed and Ihe j alave, 
reafOBK he haa to auapecl lh» (ooali emiceaJed la ruch a pi. — I . 

etncution of warrant, dcpeada epeu- Ihe evoDt— lawful if the »oodi j T*e-e ii ao auch pri»*ipl« kniwD l« ihe commoa taw. U l» tbe | cumfJ irialV iBurr'a iHsd, 5)1 ' 1 •«» of »PP<wititiH to ttc arbilia.-y claim* of Great Bri 

are there, unla»ftil t! tbej arc not- , do«lrJB* o/ufurpera; two of the bert L.i.-er» and abb^t mei in £nt- t The Hecordei ilier^fore, ia learisg the ardioarv, e^tJvti^hed and i ^''^ "" '''* '*ff'«I »f the- lodiyaaooa (rf th* people of B««!m « 

me CO,* rrooi wkub iba citation i* mau«. waa an acliOD oftreapasa | land, in thn time of Mau£eM aod *f tbalbam. dntlare ■ the chapter 1 leg^ courw-wbith ha., auflScient for all Ihe eiidj of i,t-tice and ' *'* P"'P«'e "■"«np' ■!»" th?" nghta, tUt vm <jot. Heigh la w n, 
axaiQM ccrluin cuaiom-ttou'e olficcri, for Pft[«rui« an,l Marc>>iNf of e«pcdieuey i. the very wor*t wurce of adjudication, m io arja. w I tewrtinjf to oce qoI ■caurlicBcl bv uaart, and coadeoiaod b*- «v«rv i ^'^ ^' Cnief iuauce, ((he chcaca .nctruiMBt of ■ tyraat,) waRoaM* 
(h*>.riir» bou— for uaru'tomeil gooda, by vwUo of aa Kat;]ttii \ it lendli to tba M«!ia; aJtoax by Jecrne-. .the whole !•» «f the rwals, j pHacipto -f Uw. can nr.ther he jtit.tled aor psoi-^d. I P'"^ ■' '^■■' ^'"'' t" •kModon the pUn Ai tho cloaeof tkMcrKk* 

c 10, 4 1.1. .No yood, were foiaiKt. niid it wA | aod tho la w of dijcretioi. u ihr Uw of ivratil- ; 1 Ta.~ U'cord.-r .,iv-. mat " there ti no wa-Tint too* n to the law to | '•''"e™'* bi» opiaioii aa followa. 

aUo IhO lafbrmer) wa« liabla tor \ - lo our Uw tbe jodgea are bouod tr a Micred ontb. lo determine 1 reawh for to. 11 many. " la it i.t! aitraordinnry ihat H Iiadoo! occu«^ | "The court ha* cob tide red the inhjoct of wnia of «ia>M>MX,wa 
that tbo officer | aee-ifding to Iho known lawa un.l «oc„'urruilOHi. of the ta.\m. »i< I W> bim that wriu aad war.-aai" an-I cntrie- a.-c Ihe be.t oadaoret evi- t «" «« rwi foundation for Euoha wnL But »« the prr-c'. 
down IB judicial dmaiu^ia i>ad r«alu'ioJ».of loaraed, wi«i and vp- dcocoa oMbe taw T and tli,ii the ooa-eAwieiwe of lacii a warrant waa I '*'**^ ^•"'*''' " ^^ *^' """"f** '*"'"'"'""'•• *** 
nshtjuditn. opu.i • ranety of partrtular fjcia. aod cJmv. which »aen '. eoorl-kiv evidence o.-" Che noo-eiutTDcr of aoeh • rirht ' " If a 1 »*' t^™.^''»"' "> loc w^'o 't™= opi«>rtoaitJr «wy be 
tbev have b^o thua ia u-i ruid proctlHvl tnw «ui of mind. »Tt » part • wdrcL u legal,'' aaya t..oril Camden, "a w^irrant to auihori^ite that | ' * """ ' 
of tbe comm-ia law of thekiajdom' i^'-e letter od libela, warrant*, aearcb i< alao legaL" The term* MurcA vorrajit and r^kf a/w«xA, ! 
y lato I the aeixura of pannra, i.f . bv r'lunden and flu.iair^. p. ItM.) ! ia^-.ui the aeiBe thing'- The warraal ■* cntbiG;; ta-iuelC It > merely \ 

.'n and t " .NrctM^iiv — Stale nece»*iiv the pn'iefiion of tiie people," haa been , e\id«icc of the ri«ht- I peace and quietocw Uwoiu, fri;httn«l .nd .urvr«d hf the never ft».l;nj p|e>. for every b^ubukioo offower; exr^ laration Bat a. be J- prooibited b-/ law frotr. i-uinr the wii,.aol, !h' Recor- I 

'- .i^??."'*." .' ■'' <^'"'.*'?'"' to »o . o aod act a(ia.n-t the «il>- j of pruale nybu w|ij;b bad viicj :j»j .^.^.r-».ed mjokiad it^Il pB«t ' dcr infer- that he may maie the nearch and •cimro by hia.' mUreal ' 

atory. | autboriiy' aji a magiatnte. If aay «uc9 pa«rr aji .l,ite\i^r, howridieu- ' 

I The judfeaof Enftand wnie oare impriehed by Ibn ROMAsfCom- I louB wa< '.be celebialed diM-UM.on in Wilkeii' Ct*e on t^ie leitalilw of | 
thai thia ia one of moo.*, for aJb"rtinr cLii vary doctrin(% ntiicb Iht Recoroer ta^ i* the I geoeraj « arranli. vhhc^ agiiu^ L'l^gtand nod Amenaa in ITOjf How 
ct«trolltae priuriplo of mtnittnu Uw. They wcrp jedrrw who \a the | 'uiii tho Uiamph of Ihe frirsda of .-irit liberty here <ii- wf;1 iu> ta Eng- 
rei^n of Charlna I. 10 the case of ■ •iay m'tier,' i^rndtd that 'ijlalo | land ai tbcircoadrmnBiioo! It wa# aiwiil aubatilntiuga jOHtireof the v a- 

aace^ley' would ju-i.0 _Uo c...i.ey witboui ihe rt»>n.*ni of 'j peace for a c>aaUb!«. The iBAfi#ir»i« in bw " olficut cbtu.-ler" »aa , i^'I^^-^^^'J^^irflJl, .'r.^'w'""!! 

•lira boi 
atatuLe. 10 <;«>. 
held that the »(. 
doioajar. Thai ih* wai 
»ai H voiuriicer, nnd acted at hie perd. 

A rimitar ca>* under th- aaoin lOalute. i- reported, 3 WiL 61, Bruce | 
*|. lUwIin, et ai. in which the jory rave £100 damagea, althhwsb no 
damafe- .n '..1 i.ere priv»d, aiid a motion waa aiado tc ael aaide tho ' 
rerJ|,-_ rhl,-f Juxtice Wilmol aay 1, ■ Thin c an uolaufdl 
amaoa, which if bia caatJe ; aa mvcnca upon kia wife 1 

fondly -■ " - - ■ 


z »Ak 

chiheaara-. in both caaea: tbe )• 
, aad enablcji the fuiily *d SKape, If th^ pr»riice la a(lo»<?d, 
tka uapriaciplcd, the reteageful, tkfl ualicioua witj ne induced to uaa I 
tke laagiatraiea aa a aafr aad coBTCaient madiuia for ecoveyiag their ' 
•laaden lo th« pubhc. Ii ia amaiier of »w«ar«»ty itot ia th» rw. as ( 
wtnlly happcoa. leatiniotiy waa K.van nnly 'jB unc aid.'. Tbe acnae of j 
jiutice muit h< glimtncring indeed, lu luat magirtraln who can wan- , 
loaJy place thoae loo^c, nncTpUineJ, UBMfl'd, tz parU. and (for ] 
aaght ho knowO perjured ktaiemeBta before the world. | 

Thei Raeordar *ay» bt tbouftat bn dii-:oiored a cwospirtcy ii» , 
»olriBg amny wealihy ajul powCTfol men, ■ eonapiraey 10 carry aa I 
.alwtioa by frand, a crime of tho deepeal olhacQ kaowa to too lawa, i 
Ibr it i« ia effect ireaaon agaiaat iho •orrreigutt "f the peoule, a crim 
UrMiulrea all the powet B.'nd ingenuity and eocrgj- of the Lcgi.-U'ur 
aad the Touna to check. Under tbrae ciroumrtaacaa aad d>-eply in 
praa ae d (a- tke Recorder represeote hlia^lf lo have been) with thei _^^^ 
iaaporlai^^. it waa an act of unacoualabie unprod-nce lo publith (be ■ f^^^^ 

illegal nmoticr, and then come to lfii> coart aad 
too lorpc, we prey you reduc; them. 
" t or roy iTwn p*. ^ 1 am very ,:leariy of opmK 
tboni ra*^« In wbu:h the caurt will not interfere." 

Mnnv •imilar eaen^ miibl bo ciled, »herc juriea have givea ejtem- 

pWy doffijgn BgauMi the inferttwr, or asaiaal Ibe oBceTw mhea they 

-.. ».vi.. >-*»■* .« artod upon ibcir own iafbrmitioo ; aaJ lh,>" verdicta wrre aot only 

Ilea vc-v poinledfy tba I •"atained. bjt warraly approve* by the conn. The rupreme court of 

ari- publiritv ' ''"' ^'"" '• «»""^ll">l( to go aa Ihr an the.* Ea 

(hot un 

a wmit of probabU 
TLu rase evlaci 

a Eagbab caatvi^at dccWeu 

tbe caae iiU lie bv ibe injured party, tfUa caa ahow 
h Weed. M3. B-Il r-. Cta^ 
cuurta raccymzc Do >u(hori<y by rba eon- 
h the taoaae ufa ;itiaeo. niul : bat in the 
fioif,'- wtirrw aalhorliy 
I Xt*Ka l>t the italole. tlie.v d<. not eonrldcr i( »■ Lb', ' ofEcial duly' of 
oy ••fUcer or m^igirtrai'. but mere (Cat jtory pernjiMioa to be cxar- 
laid 11 the peril of Ihe ^ariy auing out the warrant. 
Nov. lu apply tbi* doctrine to Ihe preecni caae. The reorch and 
cixure were nnde withowi aa iuforiDer, niihout oath, without war- 
ant, and itic R re order prolrcta biiaaelf uadar bU ' official cbarucicr.' 

that howrvrr grouodi'-w Ihe aurpicion, ajd how much "icTcr Mr. 
'lerce may buie been ontru^, he is utterly aithout redrew if the 
•rincipled aaeutacd by the Recorder arc true. 

Tbi* objertiod to t^ maODor of Ibe aearrh aod trizure w pl«ced iu 

1 airnaf iifbt by the bilfuFrigbta of the Slate of Manarkuteiij , K*^- 
Vcd Stntuter, p. IG, art- 1 4 ■ Enory kubjcrl haa a nph: lo b" lecure 

iblr tearchea end aeiaor.w wf hic peraon, bjn bouaea. 

Parliament, and Ibui ibo King wu^ Ibr j'idgo of (bat 
il almOkt tdoDticBl oiih tb^ propnaittuii of tho Kocorder, Ibar ihe ac- 
coBeiiy oi prolMcting the p'lhlir will iv^tty Ihe •earcbuig a maa'i 
hot)** aad aeizing bir papnri, wiihml asy cipmse authonlv of law 
aad ttt! ifav magiatral'- .• Ihr ju'lgc of tbh'l uree<*itv. Bui tla^pdei 
aad h» liluitrioui mamci^ies ihongb) oiikerwre, and tbey LhougLi 
morcoror iliwt il -■■ tnatler of m^m. -uarat for iho judgee, who an ir. m4inirjrfr (ha l.<> ai n ... (.> iittra>t't lo MUhlink a pno^.pli 

loaa (he 

The warr 

ri.] a 

The light which wae thoe kiodlad hare waa seen aco t thn Alk^ 
:ir. THie nnst yner^urr (hnaecviid yearof (be reigii ur&H»;«l^ 
ike Diiaialen«f that kisf Crat ezhib.l<y] (he.r diaposiLioD Xa riMs^ 
aHirtrary pgwcr by iaaum; a warrant ie aelae Joha Lnlick wii^ ftw- 
pBpenr, le tbe Buth^r of a paper called 'The Monilt-r, or B'^fc 
l-rc^holder,' :5oob after, Dryden Leach wi* aelz-d aa lb* puh liM^ 
nod alfout i<ia vamd timo Jatia Wilkojs *» ^a aulb>^r ut Tio.-O, aTar 
paper called ' Tbe N'orth Briton.' Theae two lait (jerroa. were Mk 
rt.-trrl, and th«ir ]>«p7rs aeized uader a geaapsl woTraot. diradi^p 
lie Krrv^tl of the aulhor^, pHatcr/ aad pubtiahen nf No.45,sfa» 
N'Tih BntMi, Coifother witb ibelr papcra, Stfi, Leach brought aaa*- 
ofall.^ H*m!gh!do.o!i.,t.-ru i^r-oo mora ' ""■"^'•I-e iaii.n«nmeot, aad Wilkea an action of tmpa.^ agaaafl: 
royaiiat .ver.coaicoded be wt, aotbo^tscd by hU «i"' ?««»"- 'wt«ur ihe arreai. Tbe «a» obrca«a «rt .-» 

leatt^»ony M. th* fcwapaper. before iho cooapiraiora were all di^ ; [,*, po^.eK and nU bia poa«-«wtu ; .II warrant. lhe.Vrora,«rc contrary 
a^ered aad arrefl^, Ihu. giving then, an to <>« fr"- | totbtcri/',., .f.he r»in; A«^l^ ./li.- ic ia.f «-eei«ur, « 
J^tjce. 10 .upprea. leaiimoar «id tamper with the -"^T", '' ""? | p^rud 6/ o«** er «>«-tum.- *" » ~P 

well be that to thi. very «— i. ... owiar that the Grand Jury .ere . P ^^^^ /^ j^.l^.^.^lV^ ^^, a... deemed an .mportani ng bt of orary 
Mable to find an iBdirtnae at in tiu. caae f-r want -.f evirt-oce. Tba , ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ _ co-^mr.n Uw, -^ t j 

Recorder h.waeif deeUrta that it U" neither the nsual uor Iho ]i Jo-* not abaolui-ty prohiblt.c»rcha.. buldeclare. that it lie^a- 

jadKaoim cour^ to make kaowa tbe arideBce wbde anv uf the partie. | ^_^ ^ ^^^ ,.,„.r.:tion of prirato ngbw, that they -hould ia all raae. 
iisphcafjd are al large." _.,._.' ' be by "a.-raul eupported by oolh or affimatiou.' and that if oot to 

Tbo Recorder «,y, h* thought it n-^-p-tfT = "«=»'"' '^e "it- , „^„^ ^^ are /t tAolc-#« unr*..onabl«. 
«.-«.. »eparal* from each other. How idle w^ tbw aben j ^^ ,„ rJ,,.,/., „/ 3 Cruicb 4-t.', decidi.d under Ibe Coo.iitution 
the le^imooy of th* witaeea of to-day la read by Ibo-e -bo are to , ^^ ^^^^ ,._^.^^j ^^^^^ .^ ^^ declared that every warrant urued waa 
bf«con>e Ihc of to-morrow f . . _ ,, . iJlegcl unln-i it aiite rorao good cauac, eeriaia and aopporOid by oath. 

The «vert.s. t:on too waa an fV'^'".'"'"'/ ,«'''--,*^;'*'_^.""i'' t Tliere 1, another fact in the maimer of thi. Droccedlag. which do- 

of tbe bouae of tti. Pierce was made in 

I Bol iew." " To tcarch. •eize and carry away ^Ij ..ho pa* 

■ of tho aubject upon tbe ISret warrant Thai aueh a right xboidd , 

'o eiiMid from the lino wbercof Ihe memory of inan ruoai-tb not ' 

,»ie coBlrnry, and oovoi yei have found a piaco m aay book uf Uw. ' 

thcko gen- 

Wood, bL p. IISJ.) 
>>f Er.iick tiic wivraniwa' apeiriA], dire^cting \W ^a- 
reat of Jobs Catick, aad ihc *<. wee efkii h»uLt ^tApapcrt^ ^amAtn 

bruugbl h.a artioTi jf tro-,uaa -| ''' n "l - 1 " fP 1'^ 

the aeizare e^jxarially ou that cr^und. And tho main ;.nd laj^vtom* 
i>i>)ni di>ct>>>ad and .iccidcd in that eisC. waa tbe very wbc isriataA 
in lhi>< iiMjairy— l!ie legality of the actzara of priviic papers a^te 

■ry our, which would 

ttrmtWy prodi-ce eicllemeel and be eitribntcd i" pa.-iy moHica, 

aad which, therefore, n-riuired rj:1r«i'diaar> prudence and deliraey 
ta oonductipg iL The Ricorder »talee that h« ■»' rbargrd with aet- 
iag fro.n poliiicjil motikee. and that >t waa aa.d ibnt he iDlrod-d lo 
piibbab the lr»i«nKiny in order to affect the appniaching cUctioa. 
Caa .t be attributed (o a mere muttake in judgement, that with tbeao 
WamlAg* before him he proceeded to verify the« churrea and con- 
»Wl*V»picion into certainty, bj making (he vtry-puMicaiioo which 
he complahu hi' politi- al u.iponeali predici/'d 1 Nor u it wonderfal 
i^r this thai »« cxprcsaKma of contempt and durc»pect et the 
Oanrt, whkh (he- Rccordir compUina of, 'hould have been heard. 
Saaa^mala G«ar*e, calculated to injure the rhararrter of mnncpnl 
peraoo)', und prrjudice Ibe accuaed on hia trial, and auapecUd. per- 
bapa uajusllv, of a political motive, and having appareaiU apolitical 
Udriag, mua't menlaWy degrade (he Court in the c-timuiDn of the 
p«ople. and bring tbe lit^a into oooLempt. Even in iriuU U-fore the 
Jnry, which arc by Uw aad m their utitfe^utilic, wber the accuaed 
La preaeot with hi* cc,*.a*el and hia witBea»c» lo crorB-etemme and 
euikia and dlaprore, in ei"iling causca, and ^hcn other itiale f>r tbe 

a offence are p«ndiDg, the tert.mony .- oW allowed (o fc« pub- ■ f„| p^^^a. of the 
'■<--'' . — t been huld I . "^ . . . . 

There 11 another fari 
rcrrea aritiin — tbe invu 
Ibe nighl lime. 

Hale duubia the legality of grani 
is the oigbl. 3 tiale. P. C. IW. 

By the Knirli'b authontie* generally, lueh aa 
only in ccireoie rjrt* ; aurb as when there is porili 
ooy, and dauger that (he goodn will " 

Ttie ordiiitrv form of a acarrb warrant Ciprcaaea 
that It U to be eii rutod in (he day lime. 

The ouly caie in • uur lialuln autborir.ef a search aad aeiaoro 
ofpapen, ii « Ucn an 'ifficcr refu'ca tu ilchver to hU tucceaaor the 
bouka an-l papera of bia office ; aod ia thai ew.e, itvxpreeaiy roatrmn- 
tbe ciecuiiob uf the warr-ot tu the day tunc- I R. 8- 115, 4 M. 

.So IB ra*e of itolen ^ooda which ia tbo only other one allowed, Ibe 
(tatatr reatricla a nlglrl aworcb to the •log la caa^ in which there Lb po- 
■itivc proof thai property haa bean atokn or euibezzled and cunt enl- 
ed Id tbe paniruMr bouae or plana required to be aearcbed- 3 K. A. 
625, ^ T. 

~" venerable aotboniiea, the form of the warrant, and tbe care- 

a »«iucb warrant to be executed 

i juttided 
e proof of a frl- 
mo^ed. 4 Burn. 131. 

I tho fitce of it. 

^j^jjj Lnrao gcaEro) warrant*. aiJlLur.'.uLg the arrej^ -if per^uOa c«^ b^ww 

,nl u.u. d bv the •'errciary of Pia», under whi-h WiJke.' "^ ^^' •*'»"^ ^^'^^^ P"P«"' «■ ''^'" '■"''°" """^ " ""• *'*' 
I paper.»6rcM-iw;d. a«i<.i:tof*bicbgrc» LSe Jt»cu*;..naetothth-- a™;'*--"^ 1= Bo.ton. , , j. ^ ,■ =^ 

,J«v uf geo,3,al w.rranl... diircled the per.r.n- to wbo.ii it » aa m£. ^^ pnacipel po.nt '''r-^'rl."'^ ^ -id-d w,. the '^^j^. 
■.ATTM^A -to make -tn-t and d,lig-Bt «reii for tl>« author-, printer. 5*"™' '"'raat.. in which Uic»who!c court. u»cludmg r,^J Hn 
; aai p^liatrr. .,f a •cdinou. aM' i-eaaouahle p^-per enuiied The i *''^- '"•£'•• 'J *^ leaning towarda arbitrurr power. -wen ana 
( North Kr.l.,D, >■-, *i ie/mdinopprrheadandacie them and their ' "■""■ ^= --Bure (.f paper, waaonlj broughliDUaleraHr lataffin 
Tbe proportLola la out a no* one. I; haatytea rawirteJ to Uefure to I pape^, tc" Thu Wi-rant wa. dedded br L-^rd kfatia&eld and all ' "«"■'"?'' c^^demnej (ff»iror:g teim.- ivc-ena-l, wa. 
cover (lie «m"rVbi of -eapci f..f and -elzure of paper.. Aod Lurd I the judges 10 he ilkgal au-J void fora.ccerta.otv in Ihe .le.r.goation of I 2" ^ •T' ^'"fJt./ ,.- 't'"''' ' ' ' '~ ' 

Camdnj an-weta it by ia)ing. after dcacnbiug the power ctaimod, ' the pcraon to he urre-ted. Lcoch v*. Money et ol, UI Ilovell'^ State I ' . .t"' ,i._ , T*' 

■' Such !• Ihn power, tad tbcreforo one abnuld natsrally eipeel thai I Triula, p. lOifl, The aame point waa al'o derided hy Chief Ju'tice 
lae Uw to worraAt II. abould bo cleu- tn proportion aj (hepo^vr u ' i'ract, .6 Wilkea v.i Wood, p, UC*; and the Chtef Joriict JccUciM' in 
cj')rli;t.ii)U , thatraea, aprahing of the pow«r to March for paper., "If each a 

• Iftl If late, il imU &rjbaa^ tn <mr teak* ; ff tt m aal la htfa^td ' power it truly laieetcd id a Secretary of Sute, and h; can delegate 
id carry away ^11 '.ho pa* I ihia powr. il certainly may afflBCI the peeaon eml property of ev-ery 
onn in the kinrdom. aitd is iWally aubitraive of the liberty of the 

TK fric.J, ,J lit,,.? „,ry .btre »I.K..,rf lb. in^pb o.-.r «- . '^^ fJ" ,";^';j.",V'°^ 1^' lb- .bl«« »uu.| 

„ of i i=a,b impo,i.™ th.",.;,, p,.,d . ra^Mm, n iLr -tU .^^T^.TT' l' 1^™"?; Z'^ "" "^''l °' T 
Apnl. 176C. feU™, sc,..-.l ..„„,. .o be iUtjrO >bd ,„iA A.d "" '•'*,">' "'" »"• '«T~"«<' " ". -bM. bM.-i d«. 
,« «.ort,„ lo ,b, IUtnr<l.r-. d<«n„,, im rt„,„.«l .=d„- I '•—*«"""■•' C..,„, tt- r-' fb."|P»=o<'ci.,l l,k.n,. 

p,r,ob^ -,. boob, .., bo „,.rf .„d ,b. |,er.o».- pu.ubeJ b. I »» p.r».o ill- -Xol . >I|q«.'. or .n or .. .eoo^tiou'or .' .pJeJ i "»■ ' ' ''',°™": '»"''' " ""' H"" "^ f^ q™l A=Uo,t' T»c 
U.,-r»,., ■■ C„ lb, ,.ol!. joJ,„ ..,.. jX.,Jl7 U. . ibi4 ! O'^^Koo of ,.:^, ., . d..„ of p.r«,.. o, d.«npuoo of pi-.,. I bfe a™~ 'i.'^b fo^S.f'liJiliSrjiTo.'' ^H' ' 
U-. U. blbd Ibo kuldob, by . do'lumoo Ib.I .orb f. Ibci, opioioTl ! i" lb. Jorko... of oi,di,;bv .oH .o,,cb uv p;..-o or u; ^if,n , „'. f. ^ J J "zJ^^Z' i^„2^ '^ 
1 ..y oo. 11 u mui.r of «pcoet.«i for u,y jod,e lo .ibm, II." I or (o<ri. -bkb b. u ku d.^mfoo o„ibi ihiok " lb. prote.Uoo of ibe 1 J""'""""' fcobiiuooa-bre.ibio, lb« rorrn..r 

- - -P . . ri t .o,,y-.r..|o,red; No ,„.ol e.or i»or,l fiom Iio 3Ur Cbln.- i '"'""'^ ''"%'"' *'V' ^™.,'' 1"'"',.'^-'?'^ .'""JiJ"'" 

/Von, . S»r. ur, of Slole. jiv.o, » feor.ol .oj ,...,oc . ^I'?"'"' "='Tf?K ^"f'"^^ ^,'"t"^i "t iV" . . 

ilmefio. ihe,efo4. .b.eb ib. Reeo,d., .iiempi. .„ 1 ""t" "fi™ bo, lb. ..bjej, noy .,,11 b. illo«u«l by ^^ 

- . , i-.iu,.i. » , citrarta from that ni-Q m:ne of aBthbrity. " The mBascnger, k 

cnmtnandad to arize the pcrM>e dcacrlbed and to brin;; bu 

pj|>er« to be exarainad beiVir* the SAeretarv ofState. The 

.-(a. to a.ithor,^ ihf. .earth for and .-ei»ure ofor.valc .-aoera. a.-e ' - •'":'""^'' *•>' ^^ .S«<-«tary of Stale ^.a an eie,ut»n upo, ^ 

.<gaiu ibn <ame ;roat jodgr, in ro:aneBtl[^9 upon 1 rfiM>luUon Mid 
to bavK bc.-D mwde by the lacl.c jjJgoa oi Engi lad lo the timo of 
tbe mfamcua Cbiaf Juatico Kcrjggi, i " thai all pevonr that do write ot 
print, or *oll aey pemi.hlel that i* ritbcr •'acdalom to public or pri- ' turbed at thi 
fe bookt may ho aeiaad and the perfooi puntabed by ' go peraooallj 

inciple, 1 

t of the . 

if thu ' controlHrig principle of the f-.imm"a law' esi'l, which 
girea them the right to du what ihey ju'lgo Dcce>eary for Ihe protec- 
tion of lb'', public, ihey mUfl certainly havi, a nghl, and il ii their 
duly, to derlare tAaf js^iaacal by retotulina or Mberwiic. aa much 
aa it u tbo duty of (be LagiaUtare ii> naae ■ lew, 

la the foruulma of governmcnla Aoa th" c»lahUabi"''nt of lawa, the 
"ind legiidalor are bound ' to provide for the protertU 

---«.■ • ' ■--- ■ - - , r. _ . . "u , . I 'ui provwmii- wi t-ar riuuwi. all ahow how tmi>oriaDt ;biB roi,,....^.. 

U.bedi and(#doaoogBinHtthedirecuoQoflherourt. haa been huld I hB,^]*.^, t^cn held. 

a eonumpt and a misdemeanor. In the '/'»' "^">''»y'*™' *^ '"S'- j They -how aba that if tbl. act had been done m (be r^a<- mannei 

foc-bigl.UB*(«ti,ooeCleQJC»l wOa fined i>iW) for pindiahlnglh' pro- „„,,„,, anrrant, it would not have boca protected, but the officer ai 

c«odinga of the p-ial, contrary to the order of the Court. On appli- , ,„,| ag ,hc areurcr would have beea a mete ir«i.a>«-r. Aod la I 

eatloc, Ihc Coun refurrd lo remit tho due. f hoy aay the orcea- p„^,^i,. ,h,, ,n act done i«lA*«awarr<»w( ia entitl.-,! to more privilege 

aity of keeping the tct-timony of wttooae- coaeealod from partiea .i ... . . 
aad from each other U tuineiimea of the ulmoet conn^quence in I 
the admmi.icnlion <.f juitice. particulariy on auch triala aa ihe« 

,be comiBun.ty at large, -vilb the led*! pu>*il>lc ^orv to |he righti. ' at kuat eiiually damnatory .^ oil uagivtciial 
privilegtra bbiI proporiy of inJmdu.iU.' Tbf error of thnjlecurdor '; simdar c»*«i". Tbe ol.jcri.on !■• to thr^aircr B( 
conaUta io iraoafarring ibw priiici|i!<> frivn thu Lagi-Utwre Vi tho I power. We m»y, therefore, Kithnut ihe I'*" 
courii. — frooi the rwaclaaCBl a/'diM to their arfnuautrafuia. | 'ider ihc autboritiiM which we now proceed 

Tho niiraordinary d<>ctrine of tbn Recorder, tfciit aome portion- of ; jeci of rucb warranty, m uppli>able in i-U th< 
tbo common law kava nev^r beca reduced lo writing, ^nd ure iiot to 
bo found in any book, v equdJIv nuicl and uDicnaLl*. Laird CamdeD 
an)'. " Tile namei' and rightn of pubtic m V-^iratea, their power and 
formi of prorecdin-, a. th. v ar-i -culeiJ fy law. have been long aince 
written, and arc Io be found in bookt and rucorda." 

Tbo Recurder. ihcrefore, a bi ha» axerciaed thia pawar of roarch 
and BCizure of private papera, and declared bta uileBtJao to couitnoc 
to it. !■• Iiound to show aoiii-~ prec^d^nt ur authority ic taw for 
so dome : aod ibii he bnf alumpteJ >o do. 

lie ciieaievcralcosea, a*2Surk. Aep. 2S4: I Loach fi3S; Waraon'c 
caac, 2t<tark, 140, 137; Rubm-un'B rate for loCrder of Udeo Jewa^lt-. 
Toa Daend'* cose nf muimi.ig witfa vnnoi ; I ay.aruw" caae for forrery ; 
Phclie Ann Floor for murder : nnd he might have ciied Buny ii>orn, 
where papers or other arliclea touod nn tb< prriKio-^ or in- tbe po»r>^'b.ioa 
"'*'"■■ " ' fi been uaed nc ihex trial aa 

sa thia. The d 

nlBili' by virtue of a arar<A learro*! and I_- . .. 
ae atarfe hji a maj^iatralr « itb.iut warrant u ah^urd. I y 

All thedectiiona whach h.-ive been made ra^-pecting .he illegality of ' ^ 

itharize tb'^ (carrh fur and ."e.nore ofpr.vctc i-aoera, a.*e ! ._- ■ ,. , - v. ,_ ^ i , 

trthtv lujd -iJzijr n ^^ - pap"™ '« the first inatancc. Hi* house la r.flod ; hir ta«. 

-eiz ^" ' valuebtc iij^rcts are takcD out of hi» i>oa*e«iiHin. b'-tore tto paper bv 

' abich far la rjinrged U fuBnd f) bo criodaal by any compi-ieat jaiia 

durtioH, and Ifcfure he ia conr.cied either of wnluig. p-iMirhia[ •■• 

lieinp concerned in the 

" Tbia power fo claimod by the Sccretarr ofState, ii not a k p part- 

Lord Cob.. «v., ,J Ib.L m.l - For J„.„r„ 1„ a,.ke .orr.ou upoo i t. ''.k'"" "°'«''- '"••■"' '"y^ "/ "»" J^' "1^^' 'I^JTIS 

■'..'.. . , I tile harbt of criminit junicv, the lord chief juattce of tho 'luaat^ 

; King's ItoDch. chief ju^^tKO Sctoggi excepted, never Uaviag aaaiMWl 

' ibk- authority. 

" Ry the lavK of England, every lova'ioa of priaair fjroporty, te It 
- minute, ia a trevpa.u. No maa can ae^ bia foot ii 

londe, i* agaiaM Magna I 'iiaria. For though 
houar* and cotta;roa of p.itir and bai>e people ^ir by 
aparcbcd, y^t if it be lawful, the hou-ci of any Fubjcci, I 
great, may be :-earcbed upon ?a< h wuriiinl upon bure ou 

Lord Camden aay-. (IS State Trials irsTT.) " The cane of «-archi 


I taken before , 
pimoa th.ll" the 

I uf the •c^natd j 

when the •ume evidence mual awreaaanly be giccai in auch cos* 
almo^ ttrbuUm, and of which advaatage ■»> be taken either to Ibc 
andue favor or prejudice of the priaonrr," 4 B. and A, 'i\^ *'■>* 
much more forcible.ju-e theae raiaarka when appiieil lo the informal 
and erpcrlce^Aomloatiooa taken before Uie cnimiUing magutrateJ 
tadeed, a pi'olicaliifO of enrh watln.oirv haa been revercly animad- 
twt«) opoo hy tbe Court. In rt« caaf of Rca sa^Lee. (i. Eep. Hep. 
BK;, which wa. an iudicimcnt for publt.liin 
the commilting longi'tralea, the Court dvl. 
Bcre pubhcation of tr vMrU evidence bef.-re 

If the Recorder had not eipiaincd hia molivca fnr this novel pro- | 
•ecd^Bg. »c ebould be hnund m charity lo belie\e ibal aomo peculiar 
•ad nnpT«(*deiitrd bot aaaqrplaieed circumnanca 
derod ihe pablicaiiow necr»aary for the prwurction 

»oC •rfbicn>cl( or for the due adtamiiirauon of *ttr bw ,_ ,_ 

tuuiar et»t. and not in anv other caac to ahieh the n, cuaed waa a 
atralkaor: not that any conceivable tUie of fact* would juatify a»eh 
aa Ulegal proceeding, but that tb'y oight poaiihly mi.lcod an upnf hi 
judge ae to bir duty. Hot iJie Recorder hiaDcIf aaya that be- waa in- 
ducrd to do il bocawe he beard of compramla made agunai >im P.r 
m-tcvAmt aecrctlv, and betaa-e the^xibliemind waa eacitrd, and lo 
prevent ■tir^pteicatalioor, and logi^e an opfortumty for eaplaea- 
tfovf and dcnU>e. " EaplaaaLlon* and deniah." by whom! Gleat- 
worth Iho BCCBrcd. *rrf heftre him. aad bad aa opp^W ally aeeu red 
» Ud- by-law to make bw ezplaiialleaa aaJ (kcamla there. Tba ea- 
prw.ioD baa i-o mcoiog, unleva it be itat the pubr.eaium waa In- 
Ub4«I to iceeL ether peiaeaa than the accuaed, aad put tbcm «poB 
tkair trial before tee great tnhuaal of patilK opiaioa- and if thai waa 
dw tateet, .1 waa undoVbtedly a criBiaal act. and .ubj<Kted the 
sarlUrtta lo af ladtctmenu Another laaaoa amgnad la, thai eam- 
pWeia weTeaia.>of nia proceeding aecraily. Haa a jwdpe a right 
thaa la dcaLta fniaa tba acicaaUtaed aad profei 
adaaial^tntiPn la.^ra[ecl Mmtttf agaiptt a t*aBrler» 
•owardice of a j'jdge.' it haa beca »id» " »a bal aaotb. , .^ , , 

rwpfjaa." No jud|,- wba rcgarda ««ly "tta* p«,ulirivy whkh fol- 
k».i. aol Ihal wbKbi. taBafi#v,-w«aUlktf»irrf*»«htbengblaof 
ifco aecBi,«d, ted the eot.e ' dutwa . .f hia high office. Nuae of Ue 
ruaanaa pvea bv the R-iordtr w.U bear eaammalioa; .ill, oacept lb* 
•oMlar amy cwri ia every caae that aritat, aad aa (o th* 
•irtlcinent tJ-c putfication could not. Id the naiiare of (binga, hare 
aay «ib« affect than that ^rodBced la tbia caae. to fan Ihc c -aU lat* * 
aame, Tii^ publicaiioa of the *pr*ttn>i»*9' '""''^', 7 '** J**' 



The Rr«*Tdor alaa idbrwi the Graad hry-tbat aicepiMM bora 
beca takaa (a Ua folBC n the aifht ttaaa, accaaqiaaiwl by the Mayor, 

'n goodserept lotothe Ujr 
<v caK of tbe kind that ii to ht 

liiire ia tbr authorily of iwo-niisbty namirK. that the right of Fcareb 
yt unknown lo ibc conmnn law ic any ca.*( whatever. 
The Cr>t ri-cord i<f 'Cjrch warrant- for any ibing but iU^cd gooJa. 
igioated tu the Court uf Star Cluu-ber in u'le time <^ Eliaabeth. It 
firirt u.<itd to ■'arch fir libeh and unticenied hooka, aod con- 

eptible pract.ce. Il u the i d„„^^ i„ nothing; which i* pro>«J by every 

cd to be 'o uwd until Ihe eboli 
court. (19 'ii-ile Trial*, 1069.) 
act done mlAout tcarramt la entitl>-.l to more privilege j made 7 Not becauw no body e*er duuUlad nzbi :.i SKarcb fir and I Inatancej are fn^nd of the exercise of lot* power in tbe court of King's 
than the ram,- ari dnat uad«r aad by virtue of u wurarul duly loued | iieizc private papera, but bocauve no body ever d'jubled that if the ' BtnrU. in trials for bigb trc3M>n. in the tise of tbe ^tuarta. ladeed, 
nnd supported by ihe natb of the accuaer T evidence wai pcrtinrnl and legal ibo court aoold not and could not ' tnoat of the judicial oriardera perpetrated by Jeffnca -ad by Scrorgi, 

Admitting tbeo that the right uf aoarcb and acizare evitu in tkia i form a collaleral »«uc to aacerlajo bow it tnn obta'jicj. And cfen if j acre efTeclcl by mL-una of i^nvalo papery found on brcalLiog opeo 
case, I nm ci]mp<;lled in ibe coorlurian thai ibe saance ot it« eiereiao the illegal a;:^nAr of obt^oine it »cra odaiitl*d, it would fona no le- I diawcm and Irunliaio posMMio : of the vicliiOL Such waa thcca.'e of 
in Ibc aevcml partu uiara referred to, -^ not authorin-d by any law. | gal oltjectJoQ to (ha leedmouy ; and the court could not, » tiiat ae- | AlgerBoo Sidney, wbom Hialor-.-. /ecnrdiag tbe verdict of Tim-, baa 
Thai it eahibiu a dangeroua uturpulinn of p»wcr, of evil example, | couat, lujeet ii, Tbia pnoctplu wnt fullv recognised in the caaej of ' pronounced 'apnlriol, a pbilo*(.pher, and nehriatian.' Ue waa tried 
and that if taactioucd an a precedent a may lead lo a bouodlea* of- \ Jordan v». I.ewv, 14 Eaj.L3M, (notc.jaiiJ l.egget'.r. Totlrrvey, where \ b) thcetccrable Jcffrier, and c.ndrmncd aad eieculcd for high trca- 
iircMiou. I the papera *rrn not only illegally iThlsuir J, but ^aiort the e3pn»i I ■»>u i and the principal cvidencv arainat Ulii were certain pri rate pa- 

State aathoriclBg the | nrdirr of tbe court, .and were objected l« on that veoiinl-, ye( the ■ pe'a found io hi. cloaet. aod l,y j» arrant from the Secretary of 
court received them,' drcUring that 'they could not take cot tee in i t-tate, in which he a^icrtr the (rcoei?noAic doclnne that the pow 
what manngr they were obtaio.'d.' Preniely tbe lamc kiod of proce- < the King 

tboagi «m 
„. . - , ,' every J^rUratioa la kar- 

pass, where Ihe dHfeudant is cillcd upon to answer for bruisuq; ^ai 
graa^ and cvenAreadiog upno Ihc xoil. If he admits tbo fact, Imbb 
bound to show, by way of junufi'-ation, thai some paeidru Uv ha* 
empowered or eicoaed bim. 

" Paper* are tbe owner's good* and cbatieL , ih?y an 
properly, and are «o far from enduring a aeixure thalthev 

courae of Jedieial 
pa clamerl "The 

But it la denied (hat any law tiiata in thi 
teari.h for, and (be te'zure ofpriealtpterri 

Tbe rxBTcite »f atich a nrht i* utterly bicoii>iatenl with two of the 
iiniv>.-rvij and moat cberiohi-d pnncipldi of the commoB law. The 
firit if ' that the houre of the peaceable unoffcodtng citizen ia inviola- 
Idi-,' What offeace bad Mr. Pierce comoiitvwl I He waa neither ac- 
cured nor »a:pected. 'A man's hottae i» bu caitle, no one cau poi-a ii^ 
ihrobold Hilbout hia leave. He may defend il eiCD lo the Wkii<g of 
tfe. • The iioorttt man,' «*ya l.<ird Chatham. ' itta> in hi* collage bid 
defiancr; to all tbe forcea of the crowa— il way be f.'iiil— the cf>of way 
■bukc — 'he wind oiay binw through it — theftirrm may enter — the rata 
may eulei— but tbe King of tngland cannxl cali-r— .jl bn force* daro 
ant cross the Ibrcabold of the ruined teD'^t^eol.' 1> thta perronal ia- 
depeod'-nce \e*f dear to an Acnertcaa cinzea thaa to a Brilirh lubjcctT 
Are bis rigblr lua pruiecied or liit bona leM aacredl No njaltor 
whether Mr Pierce complaiOB of thn outri^gc, or humbly acquieacci in 
ihia ciidnight invaaion of hi* bouachcld il ' acatirapt-'On and eicr- 
cue of auch ■ power by a high juuicial otSccr and bia ttibaer ucnl pub- i ^ 
Ik vindicniion nf tbe nghi ia a praeodent fataJ to the (ccur.ty jf (he ^ f^r 
domeatic allar of every cii'Mn. uuIcm a mark L.rpLbl.c rcproh-itMB u , Several caaaa are referred to 

'l"ba^'iEci,r,le ia.ih- . 3 Wend. 350, Foator, 330 1 J HiJi 
for MtrOH, or proio (hat a private per.,«n may a 

a f«!oay aaa been ccooultcd, the feli 
ale howe, and the doon miQr bediruki 

deiUji were to>orted toby Ihe advoejlea of a.'bilniry power, in their ' State TriaU.) 

vindication of geaaral wnrraniB ; bi't Camden aiid Dunning reply the I ilwch was aUo tbe ca>e of Ednard Colruian, a Catholic priea L 
im of Uw, fit»dji:rt aow debet /arlsn enlct — ' aa unlawful maimer 

of iboi irr.on,nl .od oppre^ I „„ ,, i„,p.:e,i„„ ., ,,d ib.otb ib. iy. noooi, by ibe 

gUod, be cuilty of a trctpaa*. yel where private papen ari, ii laiuaff 
and carried away . 'ho i-eciet nature of tlkiae good^wiU U< aa a^i*- 
vatiOD uf thu tri 3pa>!:, and demand mote coBiiidqrjbie Jama^eia ia 
that reaper!. WTiere i« the written Uw thai jivea any m*Ki*traii:i«ek 
a power! lean aafely any there ii none; aad tbTefi^r- il ia trv, 
mack fur u*. wiiboul i-uch aulhorlly. to pronounce .i '.jrr.-ticc Ic^d 
which would bt- pubrcreive of all the comforta of aocii'iy." 

" Lastly. It IS urged a> an argvrucBt of utility, thit Kurh 3 M^rcA h 

a me&iia of detecting oIfi-ail.>r! l,y dincovcrio^ cv.4citce. I wiiih aaaaa 

caaaa had been afaovo, where the law lorceth the efideiiec oat«(tto 

{,"^1 owner'a cuatody by i-T-vfitn. There i> no uroccia agaiiut pauva h 

. a^icrtr the ,rcae,^«*(c,iocinnetnn.ine powe/of. civil cau«.. Il hV. been ofleo tried but never pc.aiuX M^ 

:dfcomil,cpeork'- (=*«'• ■"«! "f Algernon Sidney, 9 I ,here the adversary ba- by force or frauo, got pot«w.on -f yS 

■ home wa5 -carched, I 

were broken open, ■ 

of. omiBg by po|)er«, wilt aol prevent Iheir being evidence aheu pro- | bi* papers •ei'*.«d. by viriuc of a »«orch warranlfrom'JieKtBg'a council. 
" "" ■ ''^"" aats, iboeeiauroof pa- j "' 

I owa proper eviflc.^e there la ao way to get it"bacic but by acli 

I " In the criminal law f.uch n )-ruceediag was nt-vor b.-ard oCi 

I yet there oir aomo ctim,^. tui a .'or instance as murder, rape. t'>^ 

-...- ;■■„,. -■, - , L-L I I ""^ hou-e -breaking, lo my i.-olbu^ of forgery and perjjry, thail 

He waa irie^d before Chief Jo-Dce 5cro«ga for btgh treason, aad aen- | n^.^, ^rocWs tba? libeling. But our Uw hu Provided m » 

tenced ■ In be hanged by tbe u«k. aud be cut down alivtj hji bowoU | ^,,i, ;„ ^^ ^..^^ ,^ j^^, the convictjuo. 

(.urnl before b.a face, aD<k4iw luarter* .evcrco, aad his body diepoMrU [ .. Wtiather thu, preccdeth from Ihc gani:cnoM of tlie law law 

aa the King thinka lit,' .1 criminaU, or from a foaaider^cion that auch a power voitld be ■ 

periiiciuBf (o the inBi>eiat than tuafnl to tbe public, I will aatva 
'tain that tin lav oblifeih ao man to aoci 
of cooipellijig setf-accuaali 

duced.' (Sec a letter concerBiog tibeU, 

per:,dcc..wriileaby Caradcn and Duaaing, ITD, 7th ediL p. 155,) 

Again, in Entick and Carriagi,}!! "And if il fhnuld be sjdrd that 
these warranta (to ae:/e papers) Dugbt to ar'juire rome itrcagiii by 
the lilencn of Ihoae eouria which have beard itiem read lo often upon 

return-, without ceDsu re or anunAdvcraiifB, I an abla Io borrow my | misled (except that of (he no(orloiui|y perjured Titui Oslea,) m c-ri^n i "it u very 
anaaor to (hat itrTtcice f>om Lb* Court of Kuir'* BencA, which lately ' old Icltcra beann^ date several years before, violently taken from hU | hec^ute thi 

oKhi'A'ibu barbarni 

I tauBde<f, ( 

iqnaland notorious as the of r. 
cut an excfptiou. If a maa make* his boui 
a receptacle for the goods oi f-loni. il m oulla-'nj. bui luch 
Bot aa exception '.o the rule, ibai ih- houxe orn teapoclabl! 

Inecd • ith great uoanioiity, in the eiiae of general warrant' (bai ' poraeanoo, and whirb rcUled ctcloocly lo the idi 
a> no olijccijoa waa taken to tfcem upon the return*, aad the matter . Catholic religion in Kug].ind. (trial of Edward Caleiiiaa,78taieTnals.) 
cd#«/i«I(*fw. the prvo^dentiBcro of ao weight- The cla#« of I Soon after, Iielaod. Thomas':nQg and JobnGrove, Ca- 
», tbcrefore. refcrrrJ to by the Recorder, Soe* not, dir*rUy or mdi- , ihoUt pncia. were tnwl ut i lie Old BjiIo.-, bfrtbre th.e a«Be jndicUl 
bvoIto Ike pTiociple, and proves BOthinfl. • monater, Chief Justice Scrogga, and eoovicied and eieenled on the 

' '" " tl-'-'lawofarreiL Holiay ti. liik, I fame kitfl of evidence, obtained Inthe nm* rtoleat and l•«-k^Bam^- 
, 430 . 2 Hawk, eh- U, { 7 i which ' ner. 

felon witboui warrant, and { Many rimitar caaec night Ix refer; nd tain the reignt of Charles aad 

Ihui a 


may be pu.-^oad ' 

— ____ , _. 3pco to make tbo ] 

ibifiniCnL arrcot if admittance is rafu-e-l. Tte la* of thaat ea-'ca andajihoritic* | 
ililed by I i, njt doubtod ; bat what analogy or s^.ileation have iboy to the casn | 

'" '" of a *eiznre ofprio«(*^apccr .f Tb. ariutt orfelooe, Mlth or wit-j»«t 

a ariaBl, u eiprataly autfaonced by rommon aud by auiule law; but | 
, wbal 1, required ta tbiji case U a -ii^lar fxprert emSonlf. der- — -* 
n^Totrii from cilher, aulharizlDg the |- - - ' 

jndar thn prolectiou of the lawBc*na< 

The other ereat principle of (he eonunot; K« wh.cb 
excrciee of ihu power, .s that 'ao Kan ciin b& colrp';ll«d to testify 
agsinti Bim>rl£' If a maa'* ptiva-o pn'^«T' can be fuiL-ed from ti* 
poLteaiton. oe^oiatier frketfaer i»ith cr aiifauula warrant, ifkia hoi 
caa be icarctacd. hi* trunk* and hi* draarra open, 

evidence i.gat£>I bimaelr, on a bbI acej*t.t<un, why wot a^jply ] duced, and none whichVould not ditcr&^.l hi> eanif has becT foiiod- 
" ' • W by not rack hii fhuat,. vad ieai bis Bca h witV j If fcf 1,„ aearehed the recurJ- of ihs atarch.iab»r*he haa found prece- 

U, and bi« moitvaa, u>d th* , denU of warranu f*r aearehing for papera «i eaae of libel- ; bill th< 

Jamc:, and tnany in latter liaie* ; huIlQ aoaAhof them wa<< thcques- 
tiiiu of Ihe legality of the aelxure of the pep*ra made ordiscusiied, oi 
can any aurb case be found aBlO lh< great caaa ef Enlick W- Camog' 
(oa, decided in the King'* Bench la ITliJi, in whic'D the ^ei*"" of pri- 
poppra waa declared by all the jujg>a to be ill< gal. 

,,-r.?\< hi. 

• baa baen pro- i 

gccerally aupptnedttal the ctrlcbnted John WitkM first eOec' cteaiure taore vinleatly opposed, in and ant i-l PorliamaaL 
"''■'■'■ ' 'orj- menlMra w--re earned from ikt-ir sick bodt and called 

from foreign parvi to rota again «i this reaotutioaL 

c of usurped | lory menlMri 

ipoa the innoceat as'wejl as the guilty, would La both criud 
uajuatL and i>-'hou!d teem that aesrcb for ertden. 
apOB tbe pame piini:ip!o Thera, lou. the iaaoceal wovld h* aa^ 
founded wiLh the gaJtr." 

After rluj deci;toB, tho prmcipte of th* iavraUbilily of ,itirMB 
papers took deep root ij the hr^r-.. if the fi-ienda of civil liberty fea 
Ea^Ianil and ia Atnevic^ While iKf cause waa under diacawaaa ia 
the ca>urtr, the I'ricihls of ihe Coni'iitiiiioa la the tloaso of Camaaaa 
latro^ucfyd a reaoloilon decUria; the *elzure of private papers ta km 
Hlcg.iL For two sacdL-5?iive aca^ioaa onblv did they rally la anpfMA 
of thli aaaentinl bulvark of periooai Be<.ariiy ; but the power in aana 
pnvate papers waa emutdared a« a jewel cf the Crow n, and wnaiw 
""" di<l the King •tru^gle for iH prftaer-ra^ot 
"eatly oyposed, in ' - - . 

earned from ikci 

mfersiooa of hix 

e. I'liij. puniicatMia at ute pt^t<itmwKj «rr..-™-j ~, ..- r^ In the case ©r B 

ihinsejf |. coding the luveaiigatjoa, la MocUMwd by ao iaw ar . ^g^^^„(^„ ,^^^^ 
o. li r> hollered IO be without preeetUai la Ihe history of ja- ^^ '^^^ ^^^ 
il prwcedn^ acd lb* mtou fivta to- it only ago^vMa th* j ^^j^^, agnioat il 

alee idbrws the Grand 
1 ollif n the aifht thaa, 
icrea, aa4 procwrinf tn 

to the houtf ot Plena, aad procannf tnm kj^ by thraataaiag to 
.arch hU hoaaa.^*^ plprxa -kM bad hd*> t.A ky hte Or .aft 

and defiled arbitrary power 
to iciiie these oppr''Mivc wajraali. 

I to tbe honor or ibe couotry bt i'. aaio, thia great, an filil \ pfaaiienlly ■ itr-jgg)e batwcea tka People ami _tfca Crown— 
rf.nal bVty. v aa fir<t aC*.ickc J ^nd rioH4:i>ii Jrfeated in our ■ Perannal Liberty aad K«iyil DeapoUa^ 

•.I. -t. c . w 1 TV. „ i-i, rt.« ._« I. 1 ._ w.,.1. ,.._ ■ .- . - V — —i= -■ ' -'-:-. r— ' -— — .- I "-'- fteeltnd. It »a-the spaj-lr.wh:cb tcioijled our R«vid«:>ao. The excilemeat •« tW'dtcTmiaa of tbia raaotiHioa waa aa p aa e a 

thoughts of h-sa^ nepriDeip>.Tvttio.on«. I.laiaboihca,** ong.oated. a-, were suppoaed tohav died, with that J legal and-ln- InnSLone of 'be Cnrtcm-hoaMi oftecr- « Boetoa petrfiotwd the i dent-^ Oa one of the ocM.^oa*, a esatewportry thaa deacnhe. ifc 

/oecia, th-: 'cc^-eJ to n'« *"^" ■•«»'^« ^ «* '^'" 'I '• b' "PP''- quK-itorial tribunal. I <!np-^a-. Court .fJoic-ture lo r^t them mriU ./-ariT;-*:*, to a«l "Tae point was -o rreal, IhM^ .««- WelV^ eyas of maahMl 

caMot i^f Ihelorlarr. A rewooeawUt sttaw i</w earcridJy eourU But the arga meat of njcwaity. in order (o roovict Ihe forgor. tbo - thcntia the eirc lUaa of lh=ir dulv, aceotJmg ta the iMge of tko more fixed ason their reurto<eBlatlvea. ludeaA. I never saw ■*«• 

ha»eg ardedacaJn.iev-.iB '«^»»''o*^ robber, the burc»ar»nd the mnrderer, «fo«wVJ ta. It-aiould beeaav Cou.t of Firhequ.-r in great Brniin." ! ihr in the Iloa** ilaolf. over* body pre««U>f to* friead to stay ad 

In.hecas* or Rex va .>** ( WiL SHOrifce «««rt mv, '«l«/«»« to .ho* that the .«aurt» m mo,t of ihc caH« of tbU kind, «■* juu,- , The effect, of lie.e inC of twtsim^c waa to .uthori« a cuaom-f vc.^u The 3ecrt:i.ry of tbe'l^ury Jdllh^men >rf cob. ■ |I iial 
IB lAiacaaeto iMpfci.tte parwh book* oughl aot fied by pnaciple. which have noappliea*.oa totbt» ra*e. Thrpo««- | hou.-* officer to search any hooca or Place far Bocusiomad godds. I were remarkably active, and every thing wore cbe (Uca "f dmia— 
beca^ II wa. cibHeiog the deflfDdant. to produce awa of forged notes, and .1«. the plate, ftr eograYiaff tbem. is made . and to comjiaad the asaiaumee of ear 0^Hi.Mij«ny'» effic*^ .«»»- , di^ Many Bicmber. who had nat atteod-«I*W whole «usioa b«*s^ 
ikeaMrivaa, miLtb-^ au.i-.Pl that ao aian ■.haU tie an offence hraialalc, and Ihey ore. tUrcfUVvH aubjecl to i.-iurr. t>o ! teraor fub-eeiA. ISiur. Lch. 10, 13 and M ; C:«. 2, eh. IT, 4B2. ' came down, aome fron uck bed*, pihcra fhim feT««n parU; aa^ y*C 

bound 10 accuse "', baa aJa ays been to rehglautly adhered to, „ eommoo Uw the wnlL-r hf Ireai-oimWa mailer was i" ; if an <>i.ori \ Tbr ciljxens of Boston pr.,tejiod agaiwi tko legxlitv of th- court's 1 alter all. although tbo Ho.1.0 lai two days iu ihe ia:a|er, (ha »r«« 4*^ 
thai IB (he case of a witaeaa, if any ca.o Dc p-t W kiia which may | «-l of treaaoa. The fat.' weapon cf (he murderecrnwi "^■■(aiied to I uau-UT such a writ as -aa pravcd for. | fom Ihree m the afVrnoon, ibjoueS tba, whole alghi SU a«r abvm 

alTecl bim»eb^, he ahall not answer tbc.ei althoagh por.ibiy hi. an- } the Kiag,kad«.««ll*bep. vjle preperty, and war, i:.errrf.e, proper- ■ it % n* not dt:med on the arg'umaat. thai tb« e«»r« angM iMae, oa \hs next moroiu?. aud (ha olhar dav Idl half a» ho-ir -Ir- g,e in <te 
awermigbt do complete joalicebei*., the partjoa, m) that iha Uw | lye^ii^i go m a Urge eUu ^f caaaa where i:)e»rt:c^-iei»wfl.'ctned *,, and probable •uapieioa, epecia) wnta Oirttctad la tpacWoffiecr^ morsing, th: deciding reaaoMaCatast c*bum t» Ih* raaolabM 1W5 
wiUralbar suffer a parlieutarlB)u«tic.Ml,j,»raak.lhr*Bjl»lkia mu.- . a pwt (rf what th* Uwyera eaii ih» 'carpaa delfcti.'tbc-liDdy of (ha ! luid U^ »-.*«: h c.rtain I iffaaes apaciaUy *atfi>rth-ln tba writ, for so waa ' v.dh>d7n!y by a _ "*™- 

^ iAwUahwMiUiMgcoar>Il7UK0aiei»Ra. affMcaiMOan whyhareaetfonh ia*e4a41cLia9DLai-vlucbaraiia- 1 Uia*tamta.;fai ,_^ [ ■'Thaa^owdi 

f a majority afToa rt ta, 

rd aad BCiWiMjrf.lbl. y— f t»-afcW< ih* BeMa 1 

Facsimile of the FirstJVuraber o/tTieM^^^rk Tyiburhe.Ap^rJ/ 70^^184^- f One hal/^lAe Original StzcJ 


Greeley's Tnbune. It was the first of a long lino of cheap and 
good newspapers, some of which still live and prosper, but 
many more long since sank into utter oblivion ; even the dili- 
gent collector of curiosities has difficulty to-day in discover- 
ing stray copies of them. 

The next development in order was the fierce rivalry which 
is always born of opposition. Beach and Bennett, who had 
been tilting in their private lists, united to bear down Gree- 
ley. Horace, however, was a good fighter, and he had Eay- 
mond to help him, and McElrath* to manage the business 
afi'airs, and so the battle was waged without material injury to 
either party, for in reality there was room for all. The read-, 
ing public enjoyed the fun, and bought all the papers engaged 
in quarrel, in order to see which had won ; and this continued 
and growing demand was fuel to the fire of competitive activ-- 


On election nights, the rival journals ran pony expresses to 
convey early intelligence of results ; and in times of high polit- 
ical excitement, locomotive engines were raced on rival lines 
of railroad, in the interest of papers which had paid high prices 
for the "right of way." ,The writer has a vivid remembrance 
of one night in the office of the Tribune, when a special mes- 
senger, hot and dusty, came in from the east end of Long 
Island, with important election returns from Patchogue or 
Quogue, or some other queer place, brought by special engine 
at the rate of sixty-five miles an hour (on the Long Island Kailr 
road too!). The yell of joy which Greeley uttered when he 
saw the " returns " might have been heard a quarter of a mile. 
As goes Quogue, so goes the Union ; and the returns in ques- 
tion settled the fate of a district. 

Instances of sharp practice, too, were not wanting. On one 
occasion, a messenger for the Tribune quietly gathered %p the 

* In an unpublished letter, written in 1845, Mr. Greeley paid this striking 
tribute to Mr. McElrath: "In the fall of 18^, a kind Providence im- 
pelled Mr. Thomas McElrath, formerly a bookseller, then a lawyer and 
master in chancery, to call on me and suggest the idea of a partnership. I 
gladly closed with him on any terms» and from that day to this not another 
hair has been worn off my head by the aching puzzle of studying out the 
means of paying to-morrow's note." 


details of some important news, in a distant part of the country, 
and then ran away with it to New York on an engine which was 
in waiting, under a full head of steam, for the use of the repre- 
sentative of the Herald. Of course, the Tribune had the news 
exclusively ; and Bennett, very naturally, uttered blasphemies. 
Such occurrences gave zest to the pursuit of intelligence, and 
sometimes provoked acrimonious discussions between the rival 

Nor was the competition confined to enterprises like these. 
For want of the boundless facilities now afforded by the organ- 
ized enterprise of the newspaper offices, there were curious 
experiments in unexpected directions. Type was set on board 
of Noi'th Eiver steamboats by corps of printers, who had a 
speech ready for the press in New York eight hours after its 
delivery in Albany.* Carrier-pigeons, carefully trained, flew 
from Halifax or Boston with the latest news from Europe 
tucked under their wings, and delivered their charge to their 
trainer in his room near Wall Street ; and an excellent gentle- 
man, Mr. Monroe F. Gale, who has. been the foreman of the 

* This feat was once performed under Henry J. Raymond's direction, and 
tlie story was told after liis death, with substantial correctness, in one of the 
current biographical sketches, from which we copy : — 

" Before the days of the telegraph' [1843], Raymond was sent to Boston to 
report a speech of Daniel Webster, then in the height of his popularity. 
Rival city journals also despatched their reporters, each selecting for the pur- 
pose two of their best short-hand writers to work against Mr. Raymond. 
The speech was delivered, and proved to be one of Mr. Webster's greatest 
achievements. The several New York reporters took the night-boat to return 
to New York, and all, save Mr. Raymond, gave themselves up to such enjoy- 
ment during the evening as the boat afforded. Mr. Raymond sat quietly in 
the back cabin, and was observed to be writing furiously. Presently one of 
the reporters had his suspicions aroused, and setting out on an exploring 
expedition, found that Mr. Raymond had on board a small printing-ofiBce, fully 
equipped. His manuscript was taken page by page to the compositors, set 
up immfdiately, and on the arrival of the boat in New York, at five o'clock in 
the morning, Mr. Raymond's report, making several columns of the Tribune, 
was all in type. These columns were put into the forms at once, and the 
readers of that journal we^, at six a. m., served with a full report of Daniel 
Webster's speech delivered in Boston on the previous afternoon. This, at 
that time, was one of the greatest journalistic feats on record, and so com- 
pletely astonished and astounded the Tribune's rivals that they never pub- 
lished the reports furnished by their short-hand writers, but acknc wledged 
themselves fairly beaten." 


Times' composing-room since the foundation of that paper, was 
sent sailing over the Atlantic, in a little pilot-boat, in quest of 
improved methods of news-getting. 

The episode of this madcap voyage across the ocean dates 
back to the year 1846, and is interesting enough to be recorded 
among the reminiscences of the older journalism of New 

In the early part of the year 1846 there were no fast steam- 
ers ; seven-day voyages across the Atlantic were supposed to 
be wild vagaries, — even, indeed, if the idea of attaining such 
a degree of reckless speed had ever entered the brain of any 
sane m'an. Nevertheless; the spirit had been awakened which 
was to produce this and all other wonders. The eager quest 
for fresh news had begun to mark the conduct of the public 
journals of New York as a distinguishing characteristic ; and 
the adventurous voyage of the pilot-boat William J. Eomer was 
but a natural expression of the prevalent feeling of the day. 
The immediate purpose of her despatch to Europe was the 
prompt conveyance of the Oregon Treaty to England ; but an 
incidental point was a test of the speed of light-built boats. 

A contemporaneous narrative* gives a full account of the 
voyage of the Eomer, together with a copy of the log kept by 
her captain, the comments of the press of the day upon the 
probable purpose of the expedition, and five wood-engravings, 
illustrating some of the perils through which the little craft 
safely passed. One of these illustrations we reproduce ; it 
represents the boat in mid-ocean, environed by fields of bro- 
ken ice. 

The William J. Eomer belonged to the fleet of New York 
pilot-boats. Her burden was about fifty tons. The equipment 
for the long and perilous winter voyage across three thousand 
miles of sea was made as perfect as the circumstances per- 
mitted ; but the discomforts endured by her courageous crew, 
and the passengers she carried, were sufficiently disagreeable. 
She left New York on Tuesday, February 10, 1846, and on the 

♦Greeley's revived tfew-Yorker, of Saturday, April 18, 1846,— a weekly 
paper then issued as an adjunct to the Tribune. 


7th of March she was anchored in the harbor of Cork, Ireland ; 
having thus occupied nearly twenty-five days in making the 
trip. She was beaten in the race by the sailing packet Pat- 
rick Henry, which had also left New York on the 10th of Feb- 
ruary. Fa^-sailing yachts have since made better time across 
the ocean ; but the voyage of the Eomer is an important part 
of the history of early journalism in New York ; and if the ex- 
periment failed, it was through no want of daring or of skill on 
the part of those who handled her.* 

An incident of this period of New York journalism should 
here be cited, in illustration of the animosities and personal 
abuse which too often found public expression. The Courier 
and Enquirer, having been worsted in an argument with the 
Tribune, took its revenge in unmannerly and wholly unjusti- 
fiable abuse of Greeley. The blackguardism of which Webb 
was guilty in 1844 might have been forgotten, but for the dig- 
nified and caustic rejoinder it drew forth from Greeley. 
Greeley was so merciless, and Webb so completely quelled, 
that the brief controversy attracted general attention. Twen- 
ty-six years have since gone by, but the articles are still worth 

In the Courier and Enquirer of January 27, 1844, appeared 
the following : — 

"The editor of the Tribune is an Abolitionist; we precisely the reverse. 
He is' a philosopher ; we are a Christian. He is a pupil of Graham, and 
would have all the world live upon bran-bread and sawdust; we are in favor 
of living as our fathers did, and of enjoying in moderation the good things 
which Providence has bestowed upon us. He is the advocate of the Fourier- 
ism, Socialism, and all the tomfooleries which have given birth to the debas- 
ing and disgusting spectacles of vice and immorality which Fanny Wright, 
Collins, and others exhibit He seeks for notoriety by pretend- 
ing to great eccentricity of character and habits, and by the strangeness of 
his theories and practices ; we, on the contrary, are content with following in 
the beaten path, and accomplishing the good we can, in the old-fashioned 
way. He lays claim to greatness by wandering through the streets with a 
hat double the size of his head, a. coat after the fashion of Jacob's of old, 
with one leg of his pantaloons inside and the other outside of his boot, and 
with boots all bespattered with mud, or, possibly, a shoe on one foot and a 
boot on the other, and glorying in an unwashed and unshaven person. We, 
on" the contrary, eschew all such affectation as weak and silly ; we think 

* For a detailed account of the voyage, see Appendix F. 


there is a difference between notoriety and distinction; we recognize the 
social obligation to act and dress according to our station in life; and we 
look upon cleanliness of person as inseparable from purity of thought and 
benevolence of heart. In short, there is not the slightest resemblance be- 
tween the editor of the Tribune and ourself, politically, morally, or socially; 
and it is only when his affectation and impudence are unbearable, that we 
condescend to notice him or his press." 

In the Tribune of the following day appeared this reply : — 

" It is true that the Editor of The Tribune chooses mainly (not entirely) 
vegetable food; but he never troubles his readers on the subject; it does not 

worry them; why should it concern the Colonel? It is hard 

for philosophy that so humMe a man shall be made to stand as its exemplar, 
while Christianity is personified by the hero of the Sunday duel with Hon. 
Tom Marshall ; but such luck will happen. As to our personal appearance, 

it does seem time that we should say something Some donkey, 

a while ago, apparently anxious to assail or annoy the Editor of this paper, 
and not well knowing with what, originated the story of his carelessness of 
personal appearance ; and since then, every blockhead of the same disposi- 
tion, and distressed by a similar lack of ideas, has repeated and exaggerated 
the foolery, until, from its origin in the Albany Microscope, it has sunk down 
at last to the columns of the Courier and Enquirer, growing more absurd 
at every landing. Yet, all this time, the object of this silly i-aillery has 
doubtless worn better clothes than two-thirds of those who thus assailed 
him, — better than any of them could honestly wear, if they paid their debts 
otherwise than by bankruptcy ; while, if they are indeed more cleanly than he, 
they must bathe very thoroughly not less than twice each day. The Editor 
of the Tribune is the son of a poor and humble farmer; came to New York a 
minoi', without a friend within two hundred miles, less than ten dollars in 
his pocket, and precious little besides; he has never had a dollar fi'om a 

relative, and has, for years, labored under a load of debt 

Henceforth he may be able to make a better show, if deemed essential by 
his friends ; for himself he has not much time or thought to bestow on the 
matter. That he ever affected eccentricity is most untrue; and certainly no 
costume he ever appeared in, would create such a sensation in Broadway, as 
that James Watson Webb would have worn, but for the clemency of Gov. 
Seward. Heaven grant our assailant may never hang with such weight on 
another whig executive ! — We drop him." 

Colonel "Webb made no reply. Mr. Greeley had flattened 

* The personalities of this period were not confined to attacks by news- 
paper editors upon their rivals. Bennett, who had been for five years the 
leader in the "personal" department, was very fond of talking about himself; 
and the columns of the Herald were devoted, at intervals, to accounts of his 
private affairs. The most curious specimen is given below, as an illustrative 
incident. It is the announcement of the intended marriage of the Editor of 


Four 3^ears later, Greeley's paper became notorious, through 
the " Slievegammon " hoax, which in itself is a curious bit of 

the Herald, and it appeared in the leading column of that journal, on the 1st 
of June, 1810, under a flaming caption : — 


"I am going to be married in a few days. The weather is so beautiful ; 
times are getting so good ; tne prospects of political and moral reform so 
auspiciims, that I cannot resist the divine instinct of honest nature any 
longer; so I am going to be married to one of the most splendid women in 
intellect, in heart, in soul, in property, in person, in manner, that I have yet 
seen in the course of my interesting pilgrimage through human life. 

. . . " I cannot stop in my career. I must fulfil that awful destiny which 
the Almighty Father has written against my name, in the broad letters of life, 
against the wall of heaven. I must give the world a pattern of happy 
wedded life, with all the charities that spring from a nuptial love. In a few 
days i shall be married according to the holy rites of the most holy Christian 
church, to one of the most remarliable, accomplished, and beautiful young 
women of tlie age. She possesses a fortune. Isouglit and found a fortune — a 
large fortune. She has no Stonington shares or Manhattan stocls, but in 
purity and uprightness she is worth half a million of pure coin. Can any 
swindling baulc show as much? In good sense and elegance another half a 
million; in soul, mind and beauty, millions on millions, equal to the whole 
specie of all the rotten banks in €he world. Happily, the patronage of the 
public to the Herald is nearly twenty-five thousand dollars per annum, al- 
most equal to a President's salary. But property in the world's goods was 
never my object. Fame, public good, usefulness in my day and generation; 
the religious associations of female excellence ; the progress of true industry, 
— these have been my dreams by night, and my desires by day. 

" In the new and holy condition into which I am about to enter, and to 
enter with the same reverential feelings as I would heaven itself, I anticipate 
some signal changes in my feelings, in my views, in my purposes, in ray pur- 
suits. What they may be I know not — time alone can tell. My ardent de- 
sire has been through life, to reach the highest order of human excellence, by 
the shortest possible cut. Associated, night and day, in sickness and in 
health, in war and in peace, with a woman of this highest order of excellence, 
must produce -some curious results in my heart and feelings, and these re- 
sults the future will develop in due time in the columns of the Herald. 

" Meantime, I I'eturn my heartfelt thanks for the enthusiastic patronage of 
the public, both of Europe and of America. The holy estate of wedlock will 
only increase my desire to be still more useful. God Almighty bless you all. 

" James Gordon Bennett." 

In the postscript to this announcement, Bennett gives notice that he shall 
have no time to waste upon the editers who attacked him, " until after mar- 
riage and the honeymoon." 

On the 8th of June, 1840, the marriage was announced at the head of the 
editorial columns of the Herald, as follows : — 

" On Saturday afternoon, the 6th instant, by the Rev. Doctor Power, at 
St. Peter's Catholic Church, in Barclay street, James Gordon Bennett, the pro- 
prietor and editor of the New York Herald, to Henrietta Agnes Crean. 
What may be the effect of this event on the great newspaper contest now 
waging in New York, time alone can show." 


newspaper history. The troubled summer of 1848, when 
thrones went down, and blood flowed like water, and men 
strove breast to breast with pitiless energy, gave rise to many 
false rumors of successes and defeats. But none became so 
notable- as the Tribune's exclusive intelligence of the Irish bat- 
tle of Slievenamon. On the morning of March 28, 1848, the 
readers of the morning journals of New York were startled by 
a flourish of large type, which announced "The Abdication of 
Louis' Philippe " — "A Republic Proclaimed " — " Assault on 
the Palais Eoyal" — "Great Loss of Life." It was a time to 
stir the blood. Crowns cracked — in two senses; the people 
came uppermost, and then, not knowing how to stay up, went 
down again. The general purgation was salutary ; but the 
medicine was the bayonet, and the remedy was cruel, and, in 
the sequel, ineffective. However, the train had been touched, 
and the flame of revolt leaped over the Channel, and fell upon 
the bundle of inflammable tow called Ireland. In August, 
news came that Ireland was "up." the days of the Eap- 
parees, bog and mountain bristled with pike and gun. Some 
bloody fights occurred, but the disciplined valor of the English 
bore down the ragged Celt. Then the Irish element in Amer- 
ica rushed to the rescue ; a " Directory of the Friends of Ire- 
land" was organized in New York, and Horace Greeley 
accepted a leading position in it. It was natural, therefore, 
that his journal should become the centre of intelligence for 
all that related to the Irish struggle. 

One day in August the despatches received at the Tribune 
oflSce contained letters from Dublin, dated August 3,' announc- 
ing the battle of Slievenamon in the following terms : — 

" No newspaper here [Dublin] dare tell the truth concerning the battle 
of Slievenamon ; but, from all we can learn, the people have had a great vic- 
tory. General Macdonald, the commander of the British forces, is killed, and 
six thousand troops are killed and wounded. The road for three miles is cov- 
ered with the dead. We also have the inspiring intelligence that Kilkenny 
and Limerick have been taken by the people. The people of Dublin have 
gone in thousands to assist in the country. Mr. John B. Dillon was wounded 
in both legs. Mr. Meagher was also wounded in both arms. It is generally 
expected that Dublin will rise and attack the jails on Sunday night (August 


There was not a word of truth in this. The mountain of 
Slievenamon remained unstained by blood ; General Macdonald 
and his six thousand veterans still possessed unpunctured skins ; 
Thomas Francis Meagher lived, — to break his parole and then 
challenge Henry J. Raymond to fight a duel, because he charged 
him with it ; and Horace Greeley was innocent of the hoax, 
because he was at the time exploring the shores of Lake Supe- 
rior. But the deception did its work, and money came rapidly 
into the treasury of the "Directory." 

As a matter of course, Bennett pooh-pooh'd the story, and 
travestied the name of the hard-won battle into " Slievegam- 
mon," by which title it has since been generally known. Had 
the Herald received the news exclusively, instead of the Trib- 
une, the complexion of the afiair would have been changed, 
and that sheet would have preserved a decorous silence as soon 
as the hoax became apparent. 

And this was the end of the battle of Slievenamon. 

The dingy building, in which the early years of the Tribune 
were passed, was burned in February, 1845, and the reappear- 
ance of the paper on the following morning, although at the 
time the proprietors did not know but they were irretrievably 
ruined, was regarded by its admirers and opponents alike as 
an example of enterprise deserving the warmest praise. It 
was a profitable fire for the Tribune. Mr. Greeley and Mr. 
MoElrath stood musing upon the ruins only for a brief period, 
and then turned to their work as naturally as if nothing had 
happened. The paper appeared on the following morning, only 
an hour behind its usual time ; and its patrons vied with the 
conductors of the opposition journals, in extending a helping 

* Mr. Greeley's "Reflections over the Fire," which appeared in the columns 
of the Tribune on the morning after the catastrophe, deserve to be re- 
corded. He wrote in this good-humored strain : — 

" We would not indulge in unnecessary sentiment, but even the old desk 
at which we sat, the ponderous inkstand, the familiar faces of files of corre- 
spondence, the choice collection of pamphlets, the unfinished essay, the charts 
by which we steered, — can they all have vanished, never more to be seen? 
Truly, yonr Are makes clean work, and is, of all executive ofllcers, super- 


Upon the site of the old building rose the present one, — 
Slamui's Plebeian disappearing from the little gore of land 
upon the corner which it had occupied, — and in the ensuing 
autumn, the TiHbune was fully reinstated, having added strength 
to its editorial force, and improved its facilities for conducting 
business. A year or two later it passed from the sole proprie- 
torship of Greeley & McElrath, into the management of a joint- 
stock company, which has since controlled its fortunes. 

In the period of ten years from 1840 to 1850, therefore, four 
important events in New York journalism had occurred. 
First, the heavy old papers had been startled, and their power 
shaken, by the advent of the Herald; secondly, a spirit of 
eager rivalry had been awakened, which ensured the prompt 
collection of the news of the day ; thirdly, the Tribune had 
become the established organ of the respectable part of the 
comnaunity, appealing directly to, and receiving ample support 
from, a large class Avhich had long forsaken Bennett, on account 
of his indecency ; and, foiu'thly, it had been proved that a 
cheap paper could exist in New YoTk without pandering to the 
criminal, or attempting to please the, vulgar. To Bennett 
must be given the credit of effecting a revolution in the meth- 

eminent. Perhaps that last choice batch of letters may be somewhere on 
file ; we are almost tempted to cry, ' Devil ! find It up ! ' Poh ! it is a mere 
cinder now ; some 

." ' Fathoms deep my letter lies ; 
Of its lines is tinder made.' 

" No Arabian tale can cradle a wilder fiction, or show better how altogether 
illusory life is. Those solid walls of brick; those five decent stories; those 
steep and difficult stairs; the swing doors; the sanctum, scene of many a 
deep political drama, of many a pathetic tale, — utterly whiflfed out, as one 
summarily snuffs out a spermaceti on retiring for the night. And all per- 
fectly true. 

" One always has some private satisfaction in his own particular misery. 
Consider what a night it was that burnt us out, that we were conquered by 
the elements, went up in flames heroically on the wildest, windiest, stormiest 
night these dozen years, not by any fault of humaji enterprise, but fairly 
conquered by stress of weather; there was a great flourish of trumpets, at 
all events. 

"And consider, above all, that salamander safe; how, after all, the flre, 
assisted by the elements, only came off second best, not being able to reduce 
that safe into ashes. That is the streak of sunshine through the dun wreaths 
of smoke ; the combat of human ingenuity against the desperate encounter 
of the seething heat. But those boots, and Webster's Dictionary — well ! 
we were handsomely whipped there, we acknowledge.^' 


ods of news-getting ; but to Greeley the higher praise of im- 
proving upon Bennett's invention. James Gordon Bennett 
and Horace Greeley were, in fact, the John Fitch and Robert 
Fulton of New York journalism. 

When the tide began to change, the stream of journalistic 
life began to broaden, and from this point onward the record 
covers a larger field. 





There are periods in Journalism, as in art, science, trade, 
commerce, and the whole range of literature. The rapid 
growth of knowledge, and the continual increase of the facili- 
ties of travel and intercommunication, are followed in regular 
order by the expansion of the Press and by the enlargement of 
its legitimate power. Two centuries ago the world's pace was 
moderate, and its wants were few ; ships spread their canvas 
only to favoring winds ; stage-coaches rumbled slowly over 
ill-made roads ; mail-bags conveyed to distant places tidings 
of events which had occurred three months, six months, or a 
year before ; kings were acknowledged to rule by a right called 
divine ; discoveries were rare, inventions rarer, and the great 
mass of the population of the world sodden. Newspapers es- 
pecially were stupid, for the excellent reason that there were 
few readers who cared to receive them ; or, receiving, were 
able to understand them. Macaulay has written of the English 
Press at the close of the seventeenth century, — and the Eng- 
lish Press then was the best in the world, — that the leading 
papers were wretchedly printed, and that " what is now called 
a leading article seldom appeared, except when there was a 
scarcity of intelligence, when the Dutch mails were detained by 
the west wind, when the Eapparees were quiet in the Bog of 
Allen, when no stage-coach had been stopped by highwaymen, 


when no non-juring congregation had been dispersed by consta- 
bles, when no ambassador had made his entry with a long train 
of coaches and six, when no lord or poet had been buried in 
the Abbey, and when consequently it was difficult to fill up 
four ■ scanty pages." The progress of civilization, however, 
producing gradual changes in all the relations of life, has given 
greater breadth to the world's Diary, which we call the News- 
paper ; and so marked is this eflfect that Mr. Buckle records it 
among the proofs of human development. In a meddling 
spirit, and with mistaken notions of protection, "great Chris- 
tian governments," he observes, " have made strenuous and re- 
peated efforts to destroy the liberty of the press, and prevent 
men from expressing their sentiments on the most important 
questions in politics and religion." * Such eflforts always faU. 

The history of the American Press, properly arranged and 
conscientiously elaborated, is yet to be written. The whole 
period to be covered by such a record would scarcely exceed 
a century ; for the newspapers printed in colonial times were 
chiefly weak and indigent, and it is not extravagant to aver 
that seven decades include all the days in which our Press has 
been recognized as a power. The history of the rise and growth 
of this power would be an important contribution to the his- 
tory of the United States ; for but a moment's thought is required, 
to trace the steps by which the general progress of our Press 
has kept pace with the development of the nation. The Pi- 
oneer has been closely followed by the Printer ; the influential 
editor, who began to be recognized as a political leader when 
the present century came in, has become the peer of states- 
men and scholars in the higher stages of civilization ; the 
public journal is the object of daily consideration in the coun- 
cils of government. 

Free Americans read continually; and in regard to news- 
papers they are omnivorous. There is a clientage for every 
class of journal ; and while our population undergoes its an- 
nual changes by natural accretion, or through the agencies of 
immigration, the supply keeps pace with the growing demand. 

* History of CivUization, i., 208. 


Every calling has its mouth-pieee, every political party its or- 
gan, every sect its weekly journal or its monthly magazine. 
The numbers multiply in the ratio of the growth of the in- 
terests represented ; and each publication finds a support more 
or less ample, according to the wealth, position, or influence 
of the class upon whose patronage it depends. As each class 
increases in numbers, weight, or power, a demand arises for a 
journal to represent it. And thus new papers continually ap- 
pear, devoted to specialties, or baited to please the taste prev- 
alent at the moment. 

The American newspapers whiish failed to interpret obvious 
signs died, as they should have died, when they became un- 
represehtative, useless, dull, and bankrupt ; and out of the 
long list of newspapers familiar to our grandfathers, barely 
half a dozen still survive, — so transformed that only the old 
names suggest what they were half a century ago.* But the 
new are constantly springing up, for the American habit of 
establishing newspapers is wholly ineradicable. The uneasy 
American mind must find expression in type. When our sol- 
diers went to Mexico to fight, they started a paper. When 
our army captured a southern city, in the recent war, a cor- 
poral's guard of printers stepped out of the ranks to edit and 
print a journal. If a quack desire notoriety, he buys a news- 
paper and has it all to himself; and one man in New England 
finds relief for a surcharged mind in writing out a weekly 
sheet, four inches by six, every letter in which he prints by 
hand, and every word. of which is ^is own composition. This 
latter is the only instance on record of a man being his own 
editor, printer, publisher, and reader. _ He is hap^jy in his 
conceit, and as the copies cannot conveniently be multiplied, 
the public are happy in their release from at least one paper 
which uselessly insists upon living. 
A thousand miles of new country on the Great Plains now 

*' The Journal of Commerce, established in New York by Arthur Tappan, in 
the year 1827, is the only survivor of the morning papers then in existence 
in the city. The oldest existing evening paper in New York is the Commer- 
cial Advertiser, which was founded in 1794, and the next in chronological 
order is the Evening Post, which dates from 1801 


lie open to travel, and trade, and civilization, by the comple- 
tion of th,e Pacific Railway. Has it occurred to the reader 
how many thousands of newspapers that region will produce ? 
The prospect would be appalling, but for the consoling reflec- 
tion that the habit of shooting newspaper editors at sight still 
prevails to a considerable extent in the far West ! 

So long as the world moves, however, human interest in hu- 
man affairs will remain a human sentiment, and as this interest 
crystallizes in the solid substance we call the Press, we must 
be content to take all that comes, bearing patiently with bush- 
els of wretched and innutritious chaff, in the hope of discover- 
ing plump and comely kernels. 

But this is a digression from the subject in hand. 

Twenty years ago the reading public of New York began to 
hunger. Their daily newspapers had become insufScient and 
unsatisfactory. The Courier and Enquirer, despite the mag- 
netism of Raymond add his assistants, who did their best to 
galvanize it, was dull. The Journal of Commerce was eminently 
respectable, but its contents consisted of market reports, the 
news of the Stock Board, and personal quarrels with James 
Watson Webb. The Express was a morning paper, quite be- 
hind the times. The Sun — not then, as now, saucy, brilliant, 
fully alive to the wants of the day — was read chiefly by 
domestics in quest of employment, and by cartmen dozing at 
street-corners in waiting for a job. The Evening Post pub- 
lished one edition only, — at half-past two in the afternoon, — 
and was notable chiefly for its vigorous espousal of the doctrine 
of Free Trade and its higli literary tone. The Commercial 
Advertiser was the bitter rival of the Evening Post, — a condi- 
tion which long since ceased, for the latter has gone to the 
head-rank of the afternoon journals of New York. The Herald 
was filled, day by day, with printed filth. The Tribune had 
got into bad ways, — mainly through its editor's enthusiastic 
advocacy of the theories of Charles Fourier. The day for a 
new paper had arrived ; and as the vacuum had been gradually 
created, so, too, natural forces had been in operation to pro- 
duce the means of filling it. 

The choice left to newspaper readers in New York in 


1850, was Hobson's : either the sixpenny journals of Wall 
street, with meagre supplies of news, — or the cheaper Trib- 
une and Herald, with all the intelligence of the day overlaid 
and almost extinguished by the Socialistic heresies of the one 
and the abominable nastiness of the other. Heads of families 
feared to take the Tribune to their homes, because its teach- 
ings were the apotheosis of vice. They could get their tidings 
of the news of the world through Bennett's Herald only at the 
cost of wading through heaps of rubbish. The predicament 
was unpleasant ; and the man who saw it clearly, and deter- 
mined to apply the remedj^ was Henry Jarvis Raymond. 
His remedy was the Times. It was eflfective ; and the history 
of its operation is the history of a new era in the Journalism 
of New York, — an era of decency, of grace, of enterprise, and 
of success. 

Mr. Eaymond was mainly the instrument of eflfecting the 
radical change of which he was swift to take advantage. His 
early and merciless attacks upon the doctrines of Socialism 
were the direct cause of bringing the Tribune into disrepute, 
and putting into the field a rival to the Herald; and in his cel- 
ebrated discussion with Mr. Greeley, in the columns of the 
Courier and Enquirer, lay the germ of his own subsequent vic- 
tory as a journalist. Although the period upon which he was 
to leave the impress of his hand was virtually of his own cre- 
ation, he was himself really unconscious of the vigor of the 
blows he struck ; yet the eflFects of his fierce encounter with the 
eneiny of Virtue and Eeligion were visible long after the tour- 
nament had ended. 

— It is now time to trace the rise and progress of the Social- 
istic element in J^ew York Journalism. 





" The propagation in this country of Fourier's ideas of Indus- 
trial Association " — observes Horace Greeley, in his volume 
of autobiography * — " was wholly pioneered by Mr. A. Bris- 
bane, who presented them in a series of articles in the Tribune, 
beginning in 1841, and running through two or three years. 
The Future — a weekly entirely devoted to the subject — was 
issued for a few weeks, but received no considerable support, 
and was therefore discontinued. The Harbinger, a smaller 
weekly, was afterwards issued from the Brook Farm Associa- 
tion, and sustained — not without loss — for two or three 
years. Meantime, several treatises, explaining and commend- 
ing the system, were published, — the best of them being 
"Democracy, Pacific and Constructive," by Mr. Parke Godwm, 
of the Evening Post. The problem was further discussed in a 
series of controversial letters between Mr. Henry J. Eaymoud 
and myself. Thus, by persevering effort, the subject was 
thrust, as it were, on public attention." 

Mr. Greeley further tells us that his own observations of ex- 
treme destitution, in the wretched corners of the sixth ward in 
the city of New York, had inspired him with a desire to solve 
the problems of labor ; and that accordingly he published a 
series of articles in the New-Yorker in 1839-40, under the 

* " Eecollections of a Busy Life," p. 151. 


title, "What shall he done for the Laborer?" — in which the 
social question was discussed. These papers attracted the at- 
tention of Mr. Brisbane, who was at that time a resident of 
Batavia, in the State of New York, having just returned from 
Paris. In the course of widely extended travels abroad, 
Mr. Brisbane had made the acquaintance of the social reformers 
known as the St. Simonians, after their leader, and had become 
a disciple of Charles Fourier. In 1840, Mr. Brisbane published 
in the United States the first of his long series of writings in 
defence of Socialism : — it was an exposition of Fourier's in- 
dustrial system. Mr. Greeley's outburst of philanthropy in 
the New-Yorker, at the same period, drew the two men together 
in a bond of sympathy ; and for many years thereafter they 
labored in unison, with a degree of zeal which might have pro- 
duced tangible results had it been accompanied by discretion. 
The zealous man who shows himself to be nothing but an icon- 
oclast usually fails, — and this was what befell Greeley. The 
whole Socialist heresy, which created a tempest twenty-five 
years ago, and which struggled along a very thorny path until 
the year 1855, when it died a natural death, and passed into a 
tradition, after having crazed some, ruined others, and disor- 
ganized whole communities, was kept alive in its earlier days 
by the influence, the arguments, the persistency of the Tribune. 
The truth of history requires this record, and the proof is at 

Fourierism means license. Under the guise of philanthropy, 
of the reform of social abuses, of a desire for the elevation of 
labor, of a demand for equal and exact justice to all men, its 
advocates seek to disrupt the ties which make the family rela- 
tion sacred, and communities happy and prosperous. The re- 
formers who assume the lofty title of "social architects" too 
often forget in their own lives to establish their theory of an 
exalted moral sense ; for 

..." the difference is too nice 

Where ends the virtue or begins the vice ; " 

and the conspicuous failures of the Socialistic companies, which 
have from time to time associated themselves together for pracr 


tical experiment, point unerringly to inherent causes of weak- 
ness and decay. The Brook Farm Community, in Massachusetts, 
— one of the earliest and certainly the best of all these curious 
experiments in social life, for it counted in the member- 
ship brilliant men and women who have since become famous in 
literature, — lived five years, struggling fitfully in its later 
days, and dying bankrupt. The North American Phalanx, in 
New Jersey, which endured for thirteen years many vicissitudes 
of fortime, has degenerated into a market-garden, and its hun- 
dred members have become scattered, or have died. The Onei- 
da Community, which has its principal farm to-day in Central 
New York, with a branch establishment in Wallingford, Con- 
necticut, is the most prosperous experiment of this kind that 
has yet existed ; but its prosperity is chiefly derived from 
the co-operative system of well-directed industry, and in no 
appreciable degree from its practice of the Socialistic theories.* 

* An unpublished work, by a Socialist named A. J. McDonald, contains a 
list of the Communistic experiments tried at various times In the United 
States. This list is here appended. It shows that the duration of the Com- 
munities was for very limited periods, and that there was a prevalent ten- 
dency to get into debt : — 


Blue Spring Community; Indiana; no particulars, except that it lasted 
"but a short time." 

Co-operative Society; Pennsylvania; no particulars. 

Coxsackie Community ; New York ; capital " small ; " " very much in debt ; " 
lasted between one and two years. 

Porestville Community ; Indiana; "over sixty members ;" three hunclred 
and twenty-five acres of land, duration, more than a year. 

Franklin Community ; New York ; no particulars. 

Haverstraw Community ; New York ; about eighty members ; one hundred 
and twenty acres ; debt, twelve thousand dollars ; lasted five months. 

Kendall Community ; Ohio ; two hundred members ; two hundred acres ; 
duration, about two years. 

Macluria; Indiana; one thousand two hundred acres; duration, about two 

New Harmony; Indiana; nine hundred members ; thirty thousand acres, 
worth one hundred and ninety thousand dollars ; duration, nearly three years. 

Nashoba ; Tennessee ; fifteen members ; two thousand acres : duration, 
about three years. 

Yellow Springs Community ; Ohio ; seventy-five to one hundred and ninety 
families ; lasted three months. 


Alphadelphia Phalanx; Michigan; four or five hundred members ; five or 
six hundred acres ; lasted one or two years. 


This, however, is not the place to discuss the question of 
Socialism, nor to describe in detail the sorry failures which the 
disciples of the " New Philosophy " have suffered. The point 

Brook Farm ; Massachusetts ^ oue hundred and fifteen members ; two hun- 
dred acres ; duration, five years. 

Brookes' Experiment ; Ohio ; few members ; no farther particulars. 

Bureau Co. Phalanx ; Illinois ; small ; no particulars. 

Clarkson Industrial Association; New York; four hundred and twenty 
members ; two thousand ucres ; lasted from six to nine months. 

Columbian Phalanx; Ohio; no particulars. 

Garden Grove; Ohio; no particulars. 

Goose Pond Community; Pennsylvania; sixty members; lasted a few 

Grand Prairie Community; Ohio; no particulars. 

Hopedale ; Massachusetts ; two hundred members ; six hundred acres ; dura- 
tion, not stated, but commonly reported to be seventeen or eighteen years. 

Integral Phalanx ; Illinois ; fourteen families ; five hundred and eight acres ; 
lasted seventeen months. 

Jefferson County Industrial Association; New York; four hundred mem- 
bers; three hundred or four hundred acres of land (whicli was heavily mort- 
gaged and finally sold to pay debts) ; lasted a few months. 

Lagrange Phalanx; Indiana; oue thousand acres; no further particulars. 

Leraysville Phalanx; Pennsylvania; forty members ; three hundred acres ; 
lasted eight months. 

Marlboro Association ; Ohio ; twenty-four members ; had " a load of debts ; " 
lasted nearly four years. 

McKean County Association; Pennsylvania; thirty thousand acres; no 
further particulars. 

Moorhouse Union; New York; one hundred and twenty acres; lasted "a 
few months." 

North American Phalanx ; New Jersey ; one hundred and twelve members ; 
six hundred and seventy-three acres; debt, seventeen thousand dollars; 
duration, thirteen years. 

Northampton Association; Massachusetts; one hundred and thirty mem- 
bers; five hundred acres; detit, forty thousand dollars; duration, four years. 

Ohio Phalanx ; one hundred members ; two thousand two hundred acres ; 
deeply in debt ; lasted two months. 

Clermont Phalanx; Ohio; eighty members; nine hundred acres; debt, 
nineteen thousand dollars ; lasted two years or more. 

One-mention (meaning probably one mind) Community; Pennsylvania; 
eight hundred acres ; lasted one year. 

Ontario Phalanx; New York; brief duration. 

Prairie Home Community ; Ohio ; five hundred acres ; debt broke it up ; 
lasted one year. 

Raritan Bay Union ; New Jersey ; few members ; two hundred and sixty- 
eight acres. 

Sangamon Phalanx ; Illinois ; no particulars. 

Skaneateles Community ; New York ; one hundred and fifty members ; three 
hundred and fifty-four acres ; debt, ten thousand dollars ; duration, three or 
four years. 

Social Reform Unity ; Pennsylvania ; twenty members ; two thousand acres ; 
debt, one thousand dollars; lasted about ten months. 

Sodus Bay Phalanx; New York; three hundred members; one thousand 
four hundred acres; lasted a " short time." 

Spring Farm Association ; Wisconsin ; ten families ; lasted three years. 

Sylvania Association; Pennsylvania; one hundred and forty-five members; 


to be considered here is the effect of the bold advocacy of the 
Fourierite doctrines by the Tribune, the Harbinger, and other 
journals in the United States, a quarter of a century ago. 
This alone has relation to the history of Journalism, which it is 
the main purpose of this volume to exhibit. 

But for Mr. Greeley's favoritism to Mr. Brisbane, the Trib- 
une would not have fallen into the disrepute which threw it 
into the background in the year 1851. The Socialist tenden- 
cies of that journal, leading it into excesses, produced a natu- 
ral result in awakening a feeling of repulsion among a very 
large proportion of its early readers and old friends ; and 
when, swift to see the drift of the popular current, Henry J. 
Raymond attacked Horace Greeley in the memorable discus- 
sion of 1846-7, he attracted attention to himself, made a new 
reputation for the Courier and Enquirer, and threw out the 
first shovelfuls of earth for the track upon which the New 
YorJc Times, in later years, was to run smoothly and safely. 

" Association Discussed ; or, The Socialism of the Tribune 
Examined," was the title given by Mr. Raymond to the 
pamphlet edition* of the controversial articles which appeared 
in the columns of the Courier and Enquirer and the Tribune, 
in the winter of 1846-7. The discussion originated in a letter 
from Mr. Albert Brisbane, — published in the Tribune on the 

three thousand acres ; debt, seven thousand nine hundred dollars ; lasted 
nearly two years. 

Trumbull Plialanx; Ohio; four hundred acres; lasted eighteen months. 

"Washtenaw Phalanx ; Michigan ; no particulars. 

Wisconsin Phalanx; twenty families ; one thousand eight hundred acres j 
duration, six years. 


The Owen group were distributed among the States as follows : in Indi- 
ana, four; in New York, three; in Ohio, two; in Pennsylvania, one; in Ten- 
nessee, one. 

The Fourier group were located as follows : in Ohio, nine ; in New 
York, six; in Pennsylvania, six; in Massacliusetts, three; in Illinois, three; 
in New Jersey, two; in Michigan, two; in Wisconsin, two; in Indiana, one. 

Indiana had the greatest number in the first group, and the least in the 

New England was not represented in the Owen group ; and only by three 
associations in the Pourier group, and these three were all in Massa- 

* Published in New York, by Harper and Brothers, in 1847, and long since 
out of print. 


19th of August, 1846, and addressed to the editor of the 
Courier and Enquirer, — proposing sundry inquiries, to which 
specific answers were requested, concerning the scheme of 
social reform of which Brisbane was the acknowledged advo- 
cate. On the 25th of August, Mr. Eaymond answered these 
inquiries, through the columns of the Conner and Enquirer. 
On the following day, the Tribune published an editorial re- 
joinder, to which Mr. Raymond replied on the 28th. On the 
1st of September, the Tribune responded editorially ; and this 
was followed on the 5th by a rejoinder from the Courier and 
Enquirer. On the 7th of September, the Courier and En- 
quirer announced the receipt of a long reply from Mr. Bris- 
bane ; but, while disavowing any obligation to publish it, 
offered to do so if the Tribune would <give place to the Courier 
and Enquirer's reply. On the 8th, Mr. Greeley met this offer 
with . a formal proposition to open a discussion on the whole 
subject involved ; the Tribune and the Courier and Enquirer 
each to publish twelve articles in defence of its own position, 
and each contestant to republish the articles written by his 
antagonist. The Courier and Enquirer accepted the chal- 
lenge ; and at the close of the State political canvass the discus- 
sion was begun. 

The TnSMne led off, on the 20th of November, with a state- 
ment of rudimental propositions, intended to show that justice 
to the poor and wretched demands of the more fortunate 
classes a radical social reform. The article, bearing the sis^na- 
ture of " H. G. ," began with a quotation from the Bible, — " In 
the beginning God created the heaven and the earth," — from 
which was deduced the proposition that earth, air, water, and 
sunshine, with their natural products, were divinely intended 
and appointed for the use and sustenance of the whole human 
family — not for a part only ; hence, that the civilized society 
of our day, in divesting the larger portion of mankind of the 
unimpeded enjoyment of these natural rights, has assumed a 
power detrimental to the public good, and contrary to divine 
law. Mr. Greeley further contended that the landless have an 
inherent right to their due share of land, and that all men 
have the right to labor, and to the rewards of labor ; but that 


under existing conditions these rights are denied. " The right 
to constant employment, with a just and full recompense," he 
said, "cannot be guaranteed to all without a radical change in 
our Social Economy." "We must devise a remedy," he added. 
His remedy was Association. 

Mr. Eaymond replied in the Courier and Enquirer of No- 
vember 23. After reciting the points of Mr. Greeley's essay, 
he met the first issue squarely, by charging the Tribune with 
agrarianism. " The position that those who own no land are 
wronged and robbed of what is justly theirs," said Mr. Eay- 
mond, " is equivalent to a denial of the right of property in 
land. . . . Inclusively, this is a denial of the right of prop- 
erty in anything whatever." Eaymond then assailed .Greeley's 
proposition that society creates property ; showing that in re- 
ality society is the creature of property. "Property is the 
root of the tree of which society is the trunk; and society, 
in turn, as it is the product, becomes guardian of the right of 
individual property. Property has always originated every- 
thing like order, civilization and refinement in the world. It 
has always been the mainspring of energy, enterprise, and all 
the refinements of life. Evils are of course developed in con- 
nection with it ; but they are accidental, and comparatively 
trifling. Without it, civilization, would be unknown — the 
face of the earth would be a desert." Eaymond enlarged upon 
this point, said a passing word of contempt about the notori- 
ous Fanny Wright, whose adherents had become noisy, and 
ended with a rebuke of the Tribune for espousing theories 
whose tendency was to undermine, and gradually to destroy, 
sound and important doctrines, of which that journal itself 
had hitherto been the advocate. 

Mr. Greeley's second essay appeared in the Tribune of No- 
vember 26. He denied the charge of agrarianism point-blank, 
and accused Mr. Eaymond of misrepresenting his position. 
What he had contended for was the right of all men to an op- 
portunity to labor, and to a just recompense of such labor; 
not a general distribution of lands, but " a limitation of the 
area thereof which any man may hereafter acquire and hold, 
whether directly or at second-hand." He gave an indio-nant 


fling at Raymond for coupling the names of Horace Greeley and 
Fanny "Wright ; and then passed to a consideration of the 
wants of the laboring class, and defined the operation of such 
a "Phalanx or Social Structure" as would, in his judgment, pro- 
vide cheap and good homes for the poor.. In short, Greeley 
set forth an outline of the system of co-operation. 

Mr. Raymond's second reply (November 30) denied any 
misstatement of Mr. Greeley's position on the land question. 
"The charge of misstatement is so absurd," said. Raymond, 
"that it becomes simply ludicrous. We copied the very lan- 
guage of the Tribune Itself. We gave to it precisely the 
meaning which common sense required. We drew from it 
simply the deductions which were unavoidable." . . We 
said in our first article that the Tribune would undoubt- 
edly disavow any denial of the right of property in land, or in 
anything else ; and so it attempts to do. But how can it do so 
in the face of its fundamental principle ? While it persists in 
urging that the landless have a claim upon the owners of land 
for a recompense ; while it insists that society is bound to 
guarantee to them an equivalent for the land of which they 
have been deprived, how can it possibly disown the funda- 
mental principle upon which this claim is founded ? The two 
must stand or fall together." Raymond dwelt upon this point, 
and in reply to Greeley's personalities concerning Fanny 
Wright, and the disciples of her school, sent this hot shot into 
the Tribune: — "We think it not at all unlikely that we shall 
insist, in the course of this discussion, that the Tribune is an 
" exceedingly mischievous and dangerous paper ; ' but it will be 
only by way of inference from the principles which it promul- 
gates ; and for those principles, as well as for all just infer- 
ences from them, the Tribune, and not we, must be held 

Mr. Greeley's third number (December 1) resumed the 
labor question, repeating the argument concerning opportunity 
and recompense, and again denying the charge of agrarianism. 
Mr. Greeley also complained that Mr. Raymond had exceeded 
the space originally agreed upon as the limit of the articles on 
either side, and added : " If you think this fair play, go on ! " 


Then he began to unfold his plan of Association ; setting forth 
substantially the theory of Fourier in regard to common prop- 
erty, remuneration of labor, inducements to workers, and the 
punishment of moral offences. 

Mr. Eaymond responded, December 8, within the limits of 
a column . He -again insisted upon the charge of agrarianism , — 
and proved it by citations from Mr. Greeley's articles. He 
then advanced to an inquiry into the practical organization of 
Socialism, and showed that the men of capital must necessarily 
become the owners of the land in the proposed " Associations ; " 
and, therefore, that Communism was simply a new phase of the 
relation of landlord and tenant, despite all the reasoning to the 
contrary. Eaymond pressed this point with great logical 

Mr. Greeley denied it roundly, in letter No. IV. — pub- 
lished immediately after the appearance of Mr; Eaymond's 
reply. "Let me say, once for all," observed Mr. Greeley, 
" that Association proposes to divest no man of any property 
which the law says is his. Its grand aim is to effect a recon- 
ciliation of the interests of capital and labor, by restoring the 
natural rights of the latter without trenching on the acquired 
rights or interests of the other." Then, by way of illustration, 
he drew a contrast between 'the ordinary method of settling a 
new township, and that which would be followed by the believ- 
ers in Association. In the first, the early settlers would be 
rudely -housed and I'udely served; in the latter, all the appli- 
ances of civilization, by means of combined effort, would be at 
hand immediately. 

Mr. Eaymond admitted (December 14) the imperfection of 
theexisting social system ; but contended that Association would 
only increase and perpetuate its worst features. Its inevitable 
tendency would be to render the relation of landlord and ten- 
ant universal and perpetual. 

From this point the discussion broadened, until the essays 
on either side became long and wearisome, embracing questions 
of social life, the relations of the sexes, political economy, and 
religion. After the lapse of twenty-two years, it is unprofita- 
ble to recall all the details of controversy concerning a theory 


which was so soon to be rejected as impracticable and mis- 
chievous ; neither would any useful purpose be served by analyz- 
ing the arguments put forth by the skilful antagonists. Mr. 
Greeley was thoroughly honest, exceedingly personal, a.nd 
somewhat illogical in the conduct of his side of the controversy ; 
Mr. Eaymond was cool, sarcastic, eai-nest, sometimes sophis- 
tical. The discussion fairly exhibited the characteristics of the 
men; and, from this point of view, it is alike valuable and 

The arguments for and against Socialism , were compactly 
summed up in the concluding papers of the series. To this 
part of the discussion we give place : — r, 

MR. GEEELEY'S convictions. 

"Let me barely restate, in order, the positions which I have 
endeavored to maintain, and I will calmly await the judgment 
to be pronounced upon the whole matter. I know well that 
nineteen-twentieths of those whose utterances create and mould 
public opinion, had prejudged the case before reading a page 
with regard to it ; that they had promptly decided that no 
social reconstruction is necessary or desirable, since they do 
not perceive that any is likely to promote the ends, for which 
they live and strive. Of these, very few will have read our 
articles, — they felt no need of your arguments, no appetite 
for mine. Yet there is a. class, even in this modern Babel of 
selfishness and envious striving, still more in our broad land, 
who are earnestly seeking, inquiring for, the means whereby 
error and evil may be diminished, the realm of justfbe and of 
happiness extended. These will have generally followed us 
with more or less interest throughout ; their collective judg- 
ment will award the palm of manly dealing and of beneficent 
endeavor to one or the other. For their consideration, I reit- 
erate the positions I have endeavored to maintain in this dis- 
cussion, and cheerfully abide their verdict that I have sustained, 
or you have overthrown, them. I have endeavored to show, 
then, — 

" 1. That man has a natural, God-given right to labor for his 
own subsistence and the good of others, and to a needful por- 


tion of the earth from which his physical sustenance is to be 
drawn. If this be a natural, essential right, it cannot be justly 
suspended, as to any, upon the interest or caprice of others ; 
and that society in which a part of mankind are permitted or 
forbidden to labor, according to the need felt or fancied by 
others for their labor, is unjustly constituted, and ought to be 

" 2. That, in a true social state, the right of every individual 
to such labor as he is able to perform, and to the fair and equal 
recompense of his labor, will be guaranteed and provided for ; 
and the thorough education of each child, physical, moral, and 
intellectual, be regarded as the dictate of universal interest and 
imperative duty. 

" 3. That such education for all, such opportunity to labor, 
such security to each of a just and fair recompense, are mani- 
festly practicable only through the association of some two or 
three hundred families on the basis of united interests and 
efforts (after the similitude of a bank, railroad, or whale-ship, 
though with far more perfect arrangements for securing to each 
what is justly his) ; inhabiting a common edifice, though with 
distinct and exclusive as well as common apartments, cultivat- 
ing one common domain, and pursuing thereon various branches 
of mechanical and manufacturing as well as agricultural indus- 
try, and uniting in the support of education, in defraying the 
cost of chemical and philosophical apparatus, of frequent lec- 
tures, etc., etc. 

" 4. That among the advantages of this organization would 
be immenSte economies in land, food, cooking, fuel, buildings, 
teams, implements, merchandise, litigation, account-keeping, 
etc., etc.; while, on the other hand, a vastly increased effi- 
ciency would be given to the labor of each by concentration 
of effort, and the devotion to jproductive industry of the great 
numbers now employed in unproductive avocations, or who are 
deemed too young, too unskilled, or too inefficient, to be set at 
work under our present industrial mechanism. 

" 5. That, thus associated and blended in interests, in daily 
intercourse, in early impressions, in cares, joys, and aspira- 
tions, the rich and poor would become the brethren and mutual 


helpers for which their Creator designed them, — that labor 
would be rendered attractive by well-planned, lighted, warmed, 
and ventilated work-shops, by frequent alternations from the 
field to the shop, as urgency, convenience, weariness or weather 
should suggest ; and that all being workers, all sharers in the 
same cares and recreations, none doomed to endure existence 
in a cellar or hovel, the antagonism and envious discontent now 
prevalent would be banished, and general content, good will, 
and happiness prevail, while famine, homelessness, unwilling 
idleness, the horrors of bankruptcy, etc., would be unknown. 

"These, hastily and imperfectly condensed, are my positions, 
my convictions. I believe that Christianity, social justice, in- 
tellectual and moral progress, universal well-being, impera- 
tively require the adoption of such a reform as is here roughly 
sketched. I do not expect that it will be immediately effected, 
nor that the approaches to it will not be signalized by failures, 
mistakes, disappointments. But the principle of Association 
•is one which has already done much for the improvement of the 
condition of our race ; we see it now actively making its way 
into general adoption, through odd-fellowship, protective 
unions, mutual fire, marine, and life insurance, and other forms 
of guaranteeism. Already commodious edifices for the poor 
of cities are planned by benevolence, unsuspicious of the end 
to which it points ; already the removal of the paupers from 
localities where they are a grievous burden to those where they 
can substantially support themselves, is the theme of general 
discussion. In all these and many like them, I see the portents 
of,' a good time coming,' not for the destitute and hopeless 
only, but for the great mass of our fellow-men. In this faith I 
labor and live : share it or scout it as you will. 


«H. G." 


" We are not aware of a single position taken by the Tribune 

upon this subject that we have left unnoticed. We have given 

to every argument it has urged in defence of the system all 

the attention it seemed to merit. We began by, discussing its 



fimdameutal theory of natural rights, — ^its primary denial of 
the right of property in land ; and we have followed, through- 
out, the line of argument which it adopted. The Tribune 
ascribed all existing evil to the false arrangements of society; 
we contended that even those false arrangements grow out of 
the selfishness of the human heart. The Tribune demanded a 
new social form which should abolish the cause of existing evil ; 
we insisted that, as evil did not spring from social forms, so no 
change of those forms could destroy it. The Tribune con- 
demned the present system of isolated households and individ- 
ual effort, and demanded the substitution for them of a com- 
munity of interests and of life ; we sought to prove that such a 
community would be impossible so long as human nature 
remains unchanged. The Tribune urged Association as the 
means of effecting that change in human character which alone 
would render Association possible ; we proved that this con- 
fouuded cause and effect, and that the personal reform of indi- 
vidual men must precede such a social reform as the Tribune 
seeks. The Tribune contended that, in Association, labor would 
receive, as its reward, a fixed proportion of its product, and 
that this would Ise greater than under the present system ; we 
proved that the reward of labor is regulated by certain princi- 
ples of permanent force, which Association could not change, 
and that then, as now, when labor was abundant and laborers 
scarce, the wages of labor would be high; and that, when 
laborers increased more rapidly than the work to be done, their 
reward would diminish. And so we proceeded step by step, 
meeting every claim urged by the Tribune in defence of the 
system; refuting its pretensions to exclusive philanthropy; 
pointing out obstacles for which it made no adequate provision ; 
and discussing fully and fairly the whole system, in all its 
details, as presented in its columns. We met the Tribune, 
throughout, upon its own ground ; yet, in nearly every instance, 
our objections were denounced as 'cavils;' our arguments re- 
mained untouched ; and now, in its closing article, the Tribune 
repeats all its original positions, and charges us with having 
failed to meet them. We are quite content to submit this point 
to the judgment of our readers. 


"... We have proved, in preceding articles of this discus- 
sion, that the whole system op association is founded upon, 
and grows out of, the fundamental principle known as the law 
of passional attraction. The argument by which this position 
is established remains untouched ; and we shall not therefore 
repeat ft. In our last article we proved that, in this system, 
the law of marCs nature is made the supreme rule of his conduct 
and character ; that it recognizes no higher law than that of in- 
clination, no authority above that of passion, and of course no 
essential distinction between right and wrong, — no standard 
of duty except that of impulse. Of course the idea of human 
responsibility is utterly destroyed; and all the sanctions of 
moral and religious truth, as derived from the Word of God, 
are abrogated and cast aside. These deductions flow inevitably 
from the law of passional attraction ; and that law we have 
proved to be fundamental in Association. 

"... We have still to advert to one point of great practical 
importance, which has hitherto been but slightlj'- touched ; we 
mean the influence upon society op the peinciples of 
association, as they are presented and urged in the columns 
of the Tribune. Its advocacy of this social system is regarded 
by many as wholly unaccountable, — as the result of some 
strange whim, for which no reason can be found in its general 
tone and teaching. This, in our judgment, is a mistaken 
notion. The fundamental principles of Association — its essen- 
tial doctrines, as we have set them forth in this discussion — 
are far more earnestly cherished by the editor of that paper, 
than any of the party measures, or temporary expedients, which 
he advocates. The principles which lie at the bottom of this 
new social system, in our view, shape the entire policy of the 
Tribune. They dictate all its sentiments ; prompt all its com- 
ments upon men and measures ; pervade its most trifling notices 
of the most common events ; govern its estimate of all schemes 
of public concern ; and create the very atmosphere in which it 
has its being. 

"... Here we close the discussion of Association, to which 
we were challenged by the Tribune. We have not given the 
system that methodical and complete examination, which can 


alone do justice to its principles and pretensions. Our remarks 
have been desultory and discursive, because the form of con- 
troversy compelled us to follow in the path which our opponent 
chose to take. Very many points of more or less interest we 
are thus enforced to leave untouched. The provisions of the 
system for civil government ; its ' sacred legion ' for the per- 
formance of the 'filthy functions' of society; its asserted power 
to reclaim deserts, to redeem alike the torrid and the frigid 
zones from their excessive heat and cold, — these claims, like 
many others which the system presents, must remain unno- 
ticed. Its practical aspects and essential principles have 
formed the only topic of this discussion ; and with regard to 
them, we think the following leading positions have been estab- 
lished by evidence and argument which the Tribune has failed 
to shake : — 

"I. Association ascribes all existing evil to what it terms 
the ' FALSE ORGANIZATION of society,' and it seeks to cure it, 
therefore, by giving to society a new and widely diiferent or- 
ganization from that which now prevails. 

" II. This reorganization of society is to be universal, and 
embrace all departments of social life. All social forms and 
institutions, it is alleged, are radically wi'ong; all, therefore, 
must be radically and completely changed. 

"in. Labor is the first thing to be reformed. Existing 
society authorizes the 'monopoly of land,' and thus excludes a 
part of its members from sharing this God-given element, and 
from working upon it, and enjoying the fruits of their labor. 
Association proposes, therefore, to abolish private property in 
land ; to make the soil ihe joint property of masses of men, all 
of whom can work upon it and share its fruits, but none of 
whom can have in it any private and exclusive ownership ; and 
by this means to increase and render fixed the reward of mere 
labor, without making it, in any degree, dependent upon cap- 
ital. We have proved (1.) that capitalists never can be induced 
to enter into this arrangement : (2.) that the denial of the. right 
of private property in land involves the denial of the right to 
own anything: (3.) that the very root and foundation of all 
civilization and progress "are thus destroyed : (4.) that such a 


community of property and labor, if it were feasible, would 
beget discontent and strife, and so involve the elements of its 
own destruction : (5.) that the reward of labor cannot be made 
fixed, because it must always, ex necessitate rei, depend upon 
the fluctuating ratio of the supply to the demand : and (6.) that 
the effect of this system of owning the soil, if carried out, 
would render capitalists the sole owners of all the land, and 
laborers everywhere their tenants and serfs. Its only effect 
would be, therefore, vastly to increase the evils which it seeks 
to remedy. 

" IV. The ISOLATED HOUSEHOLD is the next false institution 
of the present society to be reformed. As a general thing, 
each family now inhabits a separate house. Association pro- 
poses that this shall be abandoned, as expensive, selfish, and 
inconvenient; and that all shall live in one common house, hav- 
ing thSir cooking, washing, and all other domestic service per- 
formed in common; eating, as a general rule, at a common 
table, and leading in all essential respects a common life. Such 
an arrangement, we have contended : (1.) would destroy that 
most potent spur to human effort, the desire of creating and 
enjoying an independent and separate home: (2.) that it would 
bring together persons of habits, tastes, convictions, prejudices, 
motives, and general characters utterly incompatible with each 
other: (3.) that it would fail to bring such discordant mate- 
rials into the harmony of feeling, faith, and conduct essential 
to success : and (4.) that it would, so far as it should prove 
successful, destroy all individuality of character, and bring all 
men to a dead level of uniformity. It would be, therefore, in 
the first place, impossible; and, if not so, injurious to the best 
interests of all concerned. 

"V. The EDUCATION OF CHILDREN is the next thing to be 
reformed. Now, infants are taken care of by their parents, or 
by hired nurses : they are subjected to their absolute control ; 
they inherit their tastes and dispositions ; there is no uniformity 
in their education, and therefore none in their belief or characters, 
— and thus are perpetuated, from one generation to another, all 
the evils of the existing social state. Association proposes to 
commit all the infants to '-.ommon nurses ; to educate young chil- 


dreu upon a common plan, and under the direction of an elective 
council ; to release them from all constraint, leaving them to 
obey none but 'superiors of their own choice; ' relieving the 
parents from all care of them, and the children from all obliga- 
tion to obey their parents ; and so forming their characters, 
and guiding their conduct, in a way precisely opposite to that 
which now prevails. This system we have shown, (1.) neg- 
lects entirely to take into account the strong instincts of paren- 
tal and filial affection : (2.) that it, therefore, would prove 
impracticable : (3.) that it aims, avowedly, to annul the dutt 
of filial obedience : (4.) that it denies explicitly the eight of 
parental authority : and (5.) that it thus strikes a deadly blow 
at the very heart of the parental eelation, as its nature is 
set forth, and its duties defined in the Word of God. 

" VI. The relation of husband and wife is now a fixed and 
permanent one : yet it often unites parties who have for each 
other no mutual love, and keeps asunder those whom mutual 
passion impels to union. Public sentiment, legal enactments, 
the pecuniary dependence of woman, the embarrassing care of 
children, and all existing social usages combine to perpetuate 
and enforce this unnatural and unjust constraint. Association 
proposes to reorganize the marriage relation ; to remove all the 
obstacles to the free sway of natural impulse ; and to commit 
the intercourse of the sexes to the laws of human nature and 
individual passion, freed from all the restraints and checks thej^ 
now encounter. In order to effect this, it imposes on society 
the care of the children ; repeals all legal disabilities ; confers 
upon women perfect liberty in person, property, and affection ; 
enlightens public sentiment ; and so renders easy and unob- 
structed the full and free gratification of inconstant, as well as 
of constant, passions. "\Ve have demonstrated, (1.) that this 
is the aim and final purpose of this system of social reform : 
(2.) that, in not regarding marriage as a permanent institution 
of divine origin and sanctions, it rejects the teachings of Christ : 
and, (3.) that its result would be the complete destruction of the 
MAEEiAGE EELATION, and the Substitution for it of a systema- 
tized polygamy, less regulated, less restrained, and therefore 


far ii'orse than has ever been witnessed in any nation or in any 
age of the world. 

" VII. The PAMiLT, under the present social system, is an 
institution narrow in its scope, selfish in its spirit, and injurious 
to social and human progress. It rests upon, and is sustained 
by, the isolated household, the parental relation, and the rela- 
tion of husband and wife. So long as these exist, it will exist 
also. But Association proposes, as we have already seen, to 
reorganize, and, in effect, destroy all these relations. When 
that has been accomplished, the family relation must, of 
course, fall to the ground, and the family sj)irit will be absorbed 
by the spirit of the Association. In all this we have insisted, 
(1.) that the system seeks the destruction of an institution of 
divine origin ; one that lies at the basis of all human improve- 
ment, that nourishes and develops all the best affections and 
sympathies of the human heart, and that does more for the 
preservation of order, of purity, and of civilization than all 
hum'kn institutions put together : (2.) that its purposes are 
therefore hostile to the well-being of society: and (3.) that, if 
carried out, they would sweep away the best and surest safe- 
guards of the public good, and break down one of the strong- 
est barriers ever erected against the destructive torrent of vice 
and misery. 

" VIII. TTuder the existing system, the eesteaint or human 
passions is made the great end of all social institutions. Edu- 
cation, law, the church, the family, all formal provisions for the 
public good, enforce the dnty and necessity of repressing the 
passions and impulses of human nature. Association denounces 
this as a false and fruitless method. The natural impulses of 
man, it asserts, are good: evil results only from their repres- 
sion. A true society, therefore, should provide for their per- 
fect and complete development. This is accordingly proposed 
as the great and controlling object of the new society which the 
system seeks to introduce. The impulses of every human being, 
in the language of Association, point out exactly his real functions 
and his true position in society. This law, therefore, is to control, 
in every respect, the proposed reorganization of all social forms. 
Labor, education, the family, all modes of life and of work, are 


to be brought under its complete command. (1.) In labor, 
men are to work, not under the guidance of necessity, but ac- 
cording to their likings ; not separately, as their personal inter- 
ests may dictate, but in groups and series, according to the law 
of passional attraction. (2.) In education, children are to 
learn, not what they are directed, but Avhat they like ; they are 
to obey, not their parents, but only 'superiors of their own 
choice ; ' and in all things, their path is to be indicated, not by 
the judgment of older and wiser persons, but by their own 
'passional attractions.' (3.) In the conjugal relation, accord- 
ing to this fundamental law, those persons are to be united 
whose impulses prompt a union ; if those impulses are constant, 
the .union may be constant also ; if they die, the union may be 
dissolved ; if they change to other objects, they may still be 
gi-atified ; and all the obstacles which public sentiment, the care 
of children, and the fear of consequences now oppose to such an 
arrangement will be removed ; and, in the language of ITourier 
himself, the author of the system : — 

" 'A wife may have at the same time a husband of whom she may have two 
children : (2.) a genitor of whom she has but one child : (3.) a favorite, who 
has lived with her and preserved the title ; and further, simple possessors, who 
are nothing before the law. This gradation of the title establishes a great 
courteousness and great fidelity to the engagement. Men do the same to their 
divers xoives. This method prevents completely the hypocrisy of which mar- 
riage is the source. Misses would by no means be degraded for having had 
" gallants," because they had waited before they took them to the age of 
eighteen. They would be married without scruple. . . . Our ideas of the 
honor and virtue of women are hut prejudices which vary loith our legislation.' " * 

" * It has been repeatedly asserted, by some of the advocates of Association, 
that in after life Pourier changed his views upon this subject, and disclaimed 
the opinions set forth in this extract, the authenticity of which is conceded. 
They were challenged to produce any evidence of this assertion. The only 
paragraph which has ever been cited in its support is the following, — which 
we give at length, in order to preclude any charge of partial or unfair deal- 
ing : — 

" ' In 1807, my progress in the theory of harmony extended only to the 
relations of material love, which, being the easiest to calculate, became natu- 
rally the object of the first studies. 

" ' It was only in 1817 that I discovered theJ;heory of spiritual love, in its 
simpler and higher degrees.' 

" ' No one ought to be astonished, if in a statement written only eight years 


" (4.) All the forms, and all the relations of society, are to 
be adapted to the wants of human nature ; to be shaped in 
exact accordance with the requirements of the law of passional 
attraction ; so that, instead of restraint, the complete satis- 
faction of all the passions shall be the controlling object of 
all social forms. It has been our aim, in this discussion, to 
prove that these results are actually involved in the principles, 
and contemplated in the practice, of the system. It has not 
been necessary to do more than this ; as the Tribune has not 
seen fit to follow the inquiry into this branch of the subject. 

"IX. In all its principles and all its arrangements, the sys- 
tem of Association recognizes no higher rule of human conduct, 
no other standard of right and wrong, than that of the laws of 
HUMAN NATURE. Thcsc laws, in its whole reorganization of 
society, are final and imperative. In this respect, we contend, 
it is essentially, and at bottom, a system of infidelity, inas- 
much as it discards the vital and absolute distinction between 
right and wrong ; recognizes no such thing as conscience ; in- 
volves a denial of God as a moral being, — the governor of the 
universe ; and is directly hostile, in its essence, to the most 
vital doctrines of the Christian faith. 

" That this is the true outline and character of the system 

after the first discovery, I considered love only in its material relations, the 
theory of which was still exceedingly incomplete. 

" ' A new science can attain its free development only by degrees, and 
for a long time is subjected to the influence of the tendencies prevailing 
around it. Situated as I was in the midst of civilizers, who are all sensual- 
ists, or nearly so, it was almost inevitable that in my first studies of love, as 
it will exist in the combined order, I should stop at the material part of the 
subject, which alone opens a vast field for scientific calculations. After- 
wards, I came to the spiritual part of the theory, which is much more difii- 
cult to unfold ; I could not carry on both these branches together, and was 
obliged in 1807 to treat the relations of material love into-the system of which 
I had at that time an insight.' 

" It will be seen here, that Fourier, instead of disclaiming his former views, 
and asserting that he had changed them, simply remarks that his scheme was 
then ' incomplete,' and explicitly declares that in 1807 he had ' an insight ' into 
the scientific principles of the ' system of material love.' Nor have the Amer- 
ican Associations ever repudiated, so far as we are aware, or disavowed these 
opinions. So far as they go, they are held to be just: the only complaint is 
that of Fourier, that the system is incomplete." 


OF ASSOCIATION, first promulgated by Fourier, and now urged 
upon the adoption of the American people by the Tribune,^ we 
claim to have prored in the foregoing articles of this discussion. 
We do not assert, nor do we believe, that the editor of the 
Tribune aims at these results. On the contrary, if he believed 
that they were involved in the system, we have no doubt he 
would promptly discard it. But in our judgment, they flow 
necessarily from the fundamental principle of the system; and 
every step taken towards its supremacy, is a step towards their 
establishment. The Tribune, whether consciously or not, 
advocates the system in which they are involved ; and it is 
justly, therefore, held responsible for its principles and^ their 
inevitable results. The system of Association, if. fully carried 
out, would effect the most complete overthrow of existing insti- 
tutions the world has ever seen. A universal deluge would 
not more thoroughly change the face of the earth, than would 
this social revolution change the face of human society. Law, 
labor, education, social forms, religion, domestic life, everything 
in the world as it now exists, the best institutions as well as 
the worst, would be swept into a common vortex, and all society 
would be thrown back into a worse than primeval chaos. 
Churches, courts of law, halls of legislation, the homes of men, 
all private rights, and all the forms of social life, would be ban- 
ished from the earth, and the whole work of social creation 
must be performed anew. So momentous a change as this 
the world has never seen, — one so radicdl, so sweeping in its 
nature, so overwhelming in its results. And the principles 
which, if fully carried out, would involve these tremendous 
conseqiiences, when partially carried out, produce, of course, 
corresponding injury. They are subtle, plausible, and to many 
minds attractive ; and, in our judgment, by adroitly and zeal- 
ously pressing them upon public favor, the Tribune is weaken- 
ing the foundations and pillars of the social fabric ; is silently 
poisoning the public mind with false notions of natural rights 
and of personal obligation ; and is sowuig broadcast the seeds 
of discontent and hate, of which future generations will reap 
the fruits, if not in the bloody field of carnage and terror, in 


the anarchy and social disorder which are equally fatal to all 
human advancement and all social good. 

" Throughout this discussion the Tribune has charged us with 
being hostile to all reform, and especially to every attempt to 
meliorate the hard lot of the degraded poor. The charge is as 
unfounded as it is ungenerous. We labor willingly and zeal- 
ously, as our columns will testify, within our sphere, in aid of 
everything which seems to us teue eefoem, — founded upon 
just principles, seeking worthy ends by worthy means, and 
promising actual and good results. We regard it as our duty 
to do all in our power to benefit our fellow-men ; but we are 
not of those who ' feel personally responsible for the turning of 
the earth upon its axis,' nor do we deem it our special ' mission ' 
to reorganize society. We believe much good may be done by 
improving the circumstances which surround the vicious and 
the wretched ; but the essential evil lies behind that, and must 
be reached by other means. We should not differ from the 
Tribune as to the Christian duty of the rich towards the poor ; 
but we cannot denounce them as the tyi'auts and robbers of 
those who have been less industrious and less fortunate. We 
would gladly see society free from suffering, and all its mem- 
bers virtuous and happy ; but we believe social equality to be 
as undesirable, as it is impossible, — holding, rather, with Plato 
and Aristotle, that a true society requires a union of unequal 
interests, mutually sustaining and aiding each other, and not 
an aggregation of identical elements, which could give nothing 
like coherence or strength to the fabric. We believe it human 
improvemeht, but not in a progress which will have nothing 
fixed; which consists in leaving behind it everything like es- 
tablished principles, and which measures its rate by the extent 
of its departure from all the pillars which wisdom and experi- 
ence have erected. We cannot regard with favor any princi- 
ple or any scheme, no matter how plausible its pretensions, 
which involves the destruction of the family eelation, or sub- 
jects the MAREiAGE uuiou to the caprice of individual passion ; 
for not only the dictates of wisdom and experience, but the 
explicit injunctions of God himself, are thus rejected and disa- 
. vowed. We would not venture upon the tremendous experi- 


ment of taking off from human passions all the restraints which 
society, law, and religion have hitherto imposed, however plau- 
sible the plea that the law of passional attraction will again 
bring them into more complete harmony, and with ' pacific and 
constructive' power, bwild up, as by enchantment, a new and 
more perfect social form. As soon would we unchain and turn 
loose upon unprotected women and children a thousand un- 
tamed tigers, or lead mankind, in search of its lost paradise, 
into the very heart of hell, — in the hope that some Orphean 
lute might charm wild beasts from their nature, and convert 
even the furies qf the infernal world into angels and ministers 
of grace. The walls of Thebes may have risen to the sound of 
Amphion's harp ; but he himself was a son of the Highest, and 
received his lyre and acquired his skill in such creative melody, 
from the direct teachings of its Sovereign God. So, in these 
latter days, must the principles of all true KEroKM come down 
from heaven. We have no faith in any system that does not 
aim at the extirpation of moral evil from the heart of man ; 
or that sets aside, in this endeavor, the teachings of Revelation ; 
the eternal principlfes of spiritual truth therein proclaimed ; and 
the method of redemption therein set forth. The Christian 
religion, in its spiritual, life-giving, heart-redeeming princi 
pies, is the only power that can reform society ; and it can 
accomplish this work only by first reforming the individuals of 
whom society is composed. Without God, and the plan of 
redemption which he has revealed, the world is also without 

'< « tlUE. 













Vr - ^^#^r B& 







On the last day of September, 1848, while Mr. Eaymond 
was diligently performing the onerous duties which fell to his 
lot in the office of the Courier and Enquirer, the house which 
had been the shelter of his early years was destroyed by fire, 
and his father and mother were suddenly thrown upon the 
world without a home, and with but small means of support. 
.By this time, fortune had smiled graciously upon the son ; and 
the disaster to the old homestead gave him the opportunity of 
repaying a part of the debt of gratitude he owed to loving and 
self-denying parents. 

A telegraphic despatch announced to Mr. Eaymond the fact 
of the destruction of the homestead, but gave no particulars!. 
He immediately sent to his father the following letter of condo- 
lence, written very hastily in the pressure of business : — 

" New York, Saturday p. m. 
[Sept. 30, 1848.] 

" My dear !Father : — I have just heard by telegraph from Samuel of your 
misfortune. So the old house has gone! — Well, I little thought when we 
were all there so snugly this summer that it would be for the last time, from 
such a cause. I trust and suppose that it was Insured, so that the actual 
loss will be but little, if anything. And if this is so, although it will put you 
to a great deal of inconvenience, still it will not be without its advantages, 
— as you can now build ong more to your liking. 

" I suppose I could be of no service even if I was there, so that I regret less 
than I should do otherwise the impossibility of my going. If you want any 
assistance that I can give, yon have only to let me know what it is. I hope 
-■other will not let it trouble her much. It's bad, to be sure — but it can't 


be helped. I presume the old house made a fine blaze. I shall expect to 
hear very soon, from some of you, all the particulars. . . . 

■"Your affectionate son, 


Two days later, he wrote a longer letter, addressed to his 
" dear parents," in which he said many cheery words of com- 
fort, and gave them a pressing invitation to make their home 
at his house in New York ; at the same time offering pecuniary 
assistance to enable them to retrieve the misfortune which had 
overtaken them. This letter, filled with expressions of tender 
filial devotion, is here given entire : — - 

" New York, Oct. 2, 1848. 

" My dear Parents : — I wrote a very short and hasty letter on Saturday, 
as soon as I heard of your misfortune. I hope to hear to-day or to-morrow 
more particulars of the matter, as we are still entirely in the dark as to the 
amount of loss, etc., etc. We have speculated about It till we are tired, — 
wondering how the fire caught, whether this thing was saved, or that one 
burned, etc., etc. But it's all useless, and we must wait patiently until we 
hear something direct and explicit. I hope yon are not much dejected or 
discouraged about it, — and indeed I am not at all afraid that it has so far 
depressed your spirits as to prevent your considering what's to be done. I'm 
most anxious to know whether it was insured, and whether yon saved any 
considerable portion of the furniture, your papers, etc., etc. If, when yon 
get this, yon shall not already have fully written upon all these points, I hope 
you will do so without delay. 

" And now let's see what's to be done. I suppose of course you will not 
think of building again this fall. Why not, then, as soon as you put things 
straight, pick up the pieces, etc., etc., and come down here and stay with us? 
At all events, we have made up our minds that you must come, — to stay a 
while at any rate. We have plenty of room, and will do everything we can 
to make it pleasant. 

" What do you intend to do about rebuilding? Why would it not be well 
to buy the east part of Hopkins' farm, and live in his house, —not building 
again upon the old spot? I think it very likely this would be the cheapest 
way, and would be best for the farm in the long run. It wouldn't seem so 
much like home for a few years ; but it would after a while, and then it would 
make a splendid farm. If you conclude to build again, I suppose it would 
not be worth while to do more than clear away the rubbish and get material 
ready before spring. You can undoubtedly build a much more convenient 
and in every way a better house than the old one was, and that probably at 
no very great expense. 

'• It makes me sad to think that the old homestead has gone ; but it can't 
be helped, — so there's no use in feeling bad about it. I wish I could go out 
there, to see how things stand, and to help you, if I could be of any service. 
But it is impossible for me to leave just now. If you want anything of me, 


let me know it. I can let yon have some money, if you have need of it. You 
may rely upon me for everything you want that it is in my power to give or 
do. I hope to see you here before long, so that we may talk the whole thing 
over. Of course it will cause you a great deal of trouble and confusion, but 
even that will prevent you from getting dull and having nothing to engage 
your attention ; and beyond that I hope it will cause you no serious inconven- 
ience. " Come down and stay with us, and we'll try and make you glad the , 
old house was burned. . . . Little Henry is well, — though the mosquitoes 
have almost eaten him up. 

" Hoping to hear from you very soon, and writing myself in great haste, I 
am as ever 

" Your affectionate son, 


Not content with words, Mr. Raymond, a week later, pro- 
ceeded to deeds. DifBcult as it was for him to leave the 
responsible place he occupied, even for a few days, he went to 
Lima, to supervise the task of gathering up the shattered 
household gods, and to assume the responsibilities which 
rightly belonged to him as the eldest son of the family. Arriv- 
ing in Lima on Sunday, he occupied that day and Monday in 
making temporary arrangements for the comfort of his parents, 
and in rescuing, from the wreck of the old homestead,* all 
that was worth preserving ; and on Monday afternoon was on 
his way back to New York, having first despatched from Lima 
the following letter to his brother Samuel : — 

" Lima, Monday p. M. 
[October 9, 1848.] 

" My DEAR Brother : — I have been a good deal disappointed in not seeing 
you here, though, come to think it over, I suppose it would have been difficult 
for you to get away. I sent you word by telegraph on Friday afternoon that 
I should be here on Sunday morning. We were detained first by a fog on 
the river, and then by running off the track, so that I did not get to Canan- 
daigiia until nine o'clock Sunday morning ; and it was after twelve when I 
got home, though the ' home ' I found then was very different from the old 
one I used to come to. The folks had all gone to church, and were astounded 
enough when they found me on their return. It was with a good deal of 
difficulty that I got away from New York even for a few days, but I thought 
our folks would be glad to see me, even if it were but for a little while. I go 
back to-night, — and shall start in an lour or two, — father going to Canan- 

• The Raymond fai-m was subsequently sold, and is now in the occupation 
of Mr. Longyour. The present house occupies the site of the one in which 
Henry J. Raymond was born ; and the locust-grove shown in the Illustration 
Is the same that existed fifty years ago. 


daigua with me. I thought they would probably be a good deal discouraged 
by their misfortunes, and that I might perhaps help them some. I'm glad to 
find them less disheartened than I feared they would be. 

..." How desolate the old place looks ! It seems scarcely possible that 
the blackened ruin we see now ciin be all that is left of our old and happy 
home ; and indeed it is not ; for the memory of the old place, and of the 
many happy hours we have spent there, — of the kind care of parents that 
has ma^e it so blessed a place for us, — still lives, and fire cannot destroy it. 
I cannot conceive how the fire could have taken ; it seems perfectly unac- 
countable. How fortunate it was that James came home that night! And 
how admirably everything f.eems to have been managed, after the fire was 
discovered! If the house was to burn, it could scarcely have burned under 
better auspices. Most of the most valuable things seem to have been saved ; 
and the kindness of friends has in good part made up for the rest. I have 
been talking matters over with father, and told him I wauted him to decide 
on doing just what would suit him and mother best, and not be deterred by 
any consideration of expense, for I would pay all deficiencies. He has about 
concluded to use his insurance money to pay off all his debts the first thing, 
— except the State loan, — and then take the rest to build a house in the 
spring ; and whatever is lacking I will supply. This wiU give him a snug 
house, his farm, and all clear of debt; and he can snap his fingers at all the 
world. Mother will come to New York, by and by, and stay I hope some 
time, rather will probably come with her, though he may not be able to 
stay till she returns. On the whole, I think they have a prospect of having 
things comfortable again, though they cannot have a house of their own this 
winter. It would not be easy to build properly this fall. 

" But it is time for me to be getting ready to be off. I have been well 
repaid for coming, by the feeling that my visit has made them happier. And 
nothing gives me more pleasure than the thought that I can now be of some 
service to them, in return for the inestimable services they have rendered 
me. I hope to hear from you soon. Good-by. 

" Your affectionate brother, 

" Henkt." 

Such glimpses of the inner lives of men are useful and inter- 
esting. To casual observers, Mr. Raymond appeared impas- 
sive, perhaps selfish. But those ■who knew him best, and 
especially the parents and brothers who had known him long- 
est, knew how deep and warm were his natural feelings of 
affection, and how generous his hand. The closing passage of 
the last letter quoted above is a well-deserved tribute to his 
parents ; and the sentiment expressed throughout is noble, 
tender, and touching. 

katmond's enteance into political life. 81 








The political life of Henry J. Eaymond began in 1849. In 
the autumn of that year, as the candidate of the Whig party, 
he was elected to the State Legislature, as the representative 
in the Assembly of the Ninth Ward district of the city of New 
York ; obtaining a large majority over his Democratic compet- 
itor, Mr. Potter. As a parliamentarian, and a political lead- 
er, Mr. Raymond immediately took a commanding position. 
His ability as a debater, his thorough knowledge of the rules 
of legislative action, and his sympathy with the Free Soil 
movement of the day, at once elevated him to a prominent 
place in the ranks of the opponents of slavery extension. In 
the sreneral business of the session he was also active and 
efficient. Having been appointed Chairman of the Committee 
on the petition for the improvement of Rackett River, he made 
an elaborate report upon the history and the undeveloped ca- 
pacities of that comparatively unknown part of the State, 
which brought him into notice as a careful investigator in a 
new field of research. 

This was Mr. Raymond's first experience in the political 
arena. He intended it should be his last ; for, on returning, 
at the close of the. session, to his duties in. the office of the 
Courier and Enquirer, he again became engrossed in journal- 
ism, and long resisted the eflforts made by his constituents and 


friends, to induce him to continue in public life. Moreover, 
the whole responsibility of conducting the Courier and En- 
quirer had fallen upon him, on th* departure of General Webb 
for Europe ; and the gradual accumulation of his means had 
enabled him to purchase a share in that journal. Prudent re- 
gard for his own welfare, therefore, required absolute devotion 
to the demands of his profession. It was only when the 
Whigs beset him with solicitations, that he yielded his own de- 
sires to those of his party, "and again consented to become a 
candidate for the Assembly. For the second time he was tri- 
umphantly elected (November, 1850), and at the opening 'of 
the session in January, 1851, he was chosen Speaker. His 
Whig competitor for that position was Mr. J. B. Vamum of 
New York. The Democratic candidate was Mr. N. S. Elder- 
kin ; but in that Legislature the Democrats were in the mi- 

Messrs'rVarnum and Elderkiu conducted Mr. Raymond to the 
Speaker's chair, and he opened the session with a wise little 
speech, in which he gave good counsel in pithy words, thus : — •' 

" Gextlemen git the Assembly : — I tender you my thanks for tlie honor 
you have been pleased to confer on me. I shall endeavor to discharge the 
duties, and to meet the responsibilities which that honor brings with it, by a 
careful attention to the progress of public business, and under a due sense of 
the importance of the trust which you have devolved upon me. 

"You will soon adopt rules for your guidance and government in the delib- 
erations of the present session. I shall seek to give such vigorous, practical 
efifect to such rules as shall best attain the design they are intended to secure. 
I shall often need, gentlemen, and I do not doubt I shall always have, your 
most charitable indulgence in this endeavor. 

"Nothing, permit me to remind you, can more effectually promote the easy 
and beneficial discharge of public duty than a pervading sense of the magni- 
tude of the Interests committed to your care. Let us bear always in mind 
that we are making laws for the greatest, the richest, the luost powerful, of 
tlie American States; that the topics which will demand our attention are 
those which touch most nearly the dearest interests of those millions of peo-. 
pie ; and that In regard-to our sister States, and the Federal Union, we have 
rights, relations, and duties, which demand our care; and that our action 
here may shape the character, guide the growth, and control the destinies of 
this great State long after we shall have ceased to take any part in its affairs. 
Under such a sense of the greatness and importance of our task, and with 
proper dependence upon the wisdom that cometh fi:om above, let us address 
ourselves to the duties that lie before us." 

Raymond's enteancb into political life. 

Mr. Raymond filled the place of Speaker with much honor to 
himself and with satisfaction to both parties. His selection of 
committees — always a delicate and difficult task — was accom- 
plished without offence. His thorough knowledge of parlia- 
mentary rules made his decisions prompt and accurate. His 
self-possession was unaonquerable ; his manners urbane ; his 
treatment of the minority just and considerate. 

In the course of the winter he frequently left the chair to 
take part in the debates. The session was stormy. The elec- 
tion of a United States Senator in place of Daniel S. Dickin- 
son — rthe question of Slavery — the Canal Policy of the State 
— the Common School System, were the topics which excited 
bitter party feeling, and gave rise to acrimonious discussions. 
Mr. Eaymond was committed to the policy of enlarging the 
canals ; he was an ardent advocate of free schools ; he advised 
the adoption of the resolutions, which were finally passed by 
the JiCgislature, in regard to the Compromise measures ; and he 
produced a marked impression by a written decision in refer- 
ence to the Sodus Bay question. 

The session came to an untimely end, through the conduct 
of a refractory Senate. Thirteen members of that body, 
opposed to the canal enlargement, resigned their seats in order 
to prevent the passage of the measure, and the session was 
terminated by the lack of a quorum.* The Appropriation and 
Supply bills had not yet been passed, and an extra session of 
the Legislature became an imperative necessity. 

The history of these disturbing events j and the reasons for 
calling an extra session, were set forth in an " Address to the 
People of the State," which was drawn up by Mr. Eaymond, 
at the request of the Whig members, and published in their 

* The Assembly had passed an act known as the " Nine Million bill," author- 
izing a State loan of nine million dollars, for the enlargement of the canals. 
The constitutionality of the measure was doubted ; but Daniel Webster and 
Eufus Choate both gave opinions in its favor, and Mr. Raymond and his 
friends carried it through the Assembly. The Democratic senators, finding 
that it was sure to pass the Senate, resigned their seats, so that a quorum 
could not be obtained. A special election was called by Governor Hunt, and 
a "Whig preponderance was obtained. The bill was passed, and afterward 
declared unconstitutional by the Court of Appeals by a party vote. 


name. The whole body Was then dissolved, and the members 
returned to their homes. The extra session had been called for 
the following June ; but before that time arrived, Mr. Ray- 
mond was on his way to Europe, for the benefit of his health. 

A comical incident, which occurred in the course of this ses- 
sion of the Legislature, has hitherto been known only to a few 
of Mr. Raymond's friends. It furnished a good illustration of 
the character of the Albany lobby, and of the peculiarities of 
some of the lower class of Democratic politicians, who found 
their way to the Capitol ; and it affected Mr. Raymond in a 
manner more ludicrous than agreeable. An eye-witness of the 
scene, — Mr. Alden J. Spooner, of Brooklyn, — who was for- 
tunately able to rescue Mr. Raymond from an unpleasant pre- 
dicament, has kindly acceded to a request by the writer of 
these pages, in sending him the racy letter which is here sub- 
joined : — 

Brooklyn, November, 18^9. 

In the winter of 1851, when, after a great struggle, the Whig party had suc- 
ceeded in electing a Senator, that peculiar band which always hovers around 
the Legislature, ready to join in -any triumph which offers a chance for a high 
carouse, were approaching Congress Hall, after a circuit of all the drinking- 
places in Albany. As fate would have it, in their boisterous march up State 
Street, they encountered and surrounded Mr. Raymond, who then filled 'the 
place of Speaker of the House. He was quite out of health, but had been 
delivering an address before the Normal School. 

Him they took in their midst, and hurried into Congress Hall, in spite of 
his protestations ; and, having fixed him in a corner, proceeded to compel 
him to libations of wine, which, under the circumstances, seemed neither to 
admit of limit nor respite. Bottle after bottle was called for, and glass after 
glass was pushed up to the Speaker, who was compelled to drink " super- 
naculum," under the fearful penalties of refusal which gleamed from the 
fiery eyes around him. 

The Speaker did his best, but that was nothing. He endeavored to remon- 
strate with his persecutors, on the score of his ill health; but this only 
added fuel to their ferocity. They insisted that the wine would do him good, 
and continued to ply him ad nauseam. 

Happening to be at Congress Hall, In an upper room, and hearing the 
shouts of laughter, I imprudently proceeded to the scene of merriment, all 
xinconscious of its features or chai-acter. The Speaker, with those drinking 
daggers constantly placed at his throat, was the perfect image of despair. 
His persecutors were inexorable, and he could only gain occasional delay by 
a little by-play, or some attempted joke; but it ended in his being compelled 
to drink it down, with the sharpest inspection to see that not a single drop 
was lost. 

eatmond's enteance into political life. 85 

As I put my unlucky head within the room, my hat was forthwith snatched 
away. It was tossed about from one' to another, till ultimately some per- 
son gave it a violent kick, sending it through the door iuto the reading-room, 
where some attendant minister upon these infernal orgies seized it, and 
placed it upon the glowing anthracite fire, where it was at once consumed. 

" Who is that fellow ? " cried a voice. 

" That," replied another," is Senator Schoonmaker," — whom perhaps I re- 
sembled to the extent of the pair of gold spectacles which bridged my nose. 

"No ! " said the Hon. Mike Walsh, by whom I was very slightly known : 
" he is a fellow who has a bill to pass ; but by G— d it shMl not pass ! " 

This diversion was lucky for Mr. Eaymond, who made the best of it by turn- 
ing all the attention upon me, and being a fresh comer in the drinking game, 
I had largely the advantage. 

I met the banter of the Hon. Mike, by admitting that I had a little bill of 
my own, and insisting that it would pass, and I could prove it. 

"I'll bet it won't !" said Mike; and bets were made, — to what amount I 
will not say. 

I immediately handed over a bank bill to " the Commodore," who kept the 
bar, for wine for the company, declaring it was the only bill I had to pass, 
asking him loudly if it would not pass, and receiving his loud affirmative 

The Hon. Mike, with considerable objurgation, admitted that he was 
" sold ; " and forthwith the attention of the whole company was concen- 
trated upon me. 

The Speaker took advantage of the opportunity, and, crouching behind 
us, made good his retreat. 

It was then made manifest by certain of the rollicking crowd, that a new 
party had been instituted, denominated the "hat-burning party," wherein 
the burning of a hat was the token of membership. Of this I was already a 
member. In the course of the evening, as numerous others came in, they 
were added to the new-born party, through a like burnt-offering, till a start 
was made with highly respectable numbers. 

So long as the fun was fast and furious, the Speaker was forgotten. He 
had been rapidly admonished not to go to his own room, but to that then oc- 
cupied by the Hon. Willis Hall, Elijah Ward, and a large party of friends. 
To this he proceeded, and the door was barricaded. 

The precaution was timely. A cry was raised : "Where is the Speaker?" 
and the wolves became aware that he had eluded them. Forthwith a rush 
was made to his bedroom, and, in common parlance, it was gutted. A rapid 
search was then made for him in other rooms. Through all the corridors 
the uproar weut on, and reached at last the chamber where he was ensconced; 
but, without opening it, the pack was driven off by diplomatic lies. At 
length, worn down by its orgies, and persuaded by the remonstrances of the 
Commodore and other friends to leave the house, the pack passed again into 
the streets, and left the Speaker to a troubled and apprehensive sleep. 

It is not probable that, in all his experience, he ever passed through a crisis 
more daflgerous than this ; when, from every pore of his skin, and in the pal- 
lor of his face, he was evidently saying, with Stephano, " I would fain die a 
dry death ! " 


While General Webb remained abroad, Mr. Raymond had 
infused life into the Courier and Enquirer, making it an 
attractive and trustworthy sheet, and devoting to its columns a 
large share of his time, even when most actively engaged in 
the excitements of a political canvass and in official duties at 
Albany. But the stand he took in reference to the Slavery 
question — particularly in its connection with the choice of a 
new United States Senator from this State — failed to meet the 
approval of his superior. General Webb had a strong de- 
sire to occupy the seat then held in the Senate by Mr. Dick- 
inson ; the Whigs declined, with many thanks, to accept him as 
a candidate. Then Webb appealed to Raymond, but Ray- 
mond flatly refused to use his political influence in behalf of 
one whom his party had peremptorily rejected. General Webb 
was politely bowed out. Personal difficulties ensued between 
Raymond and Webb ; and when the former, broken in health 
by excitement and overwork, announced his intention of going 
to Europe, he was warned that his departure Avould be con- 
sidered by Webb as a formal withdrawal from the paper.* 

This was in the spring of 1851. New events were about to 
occur. A fresh field was opening for the display of Mr. Ray- 
mond's ability, energy and ambition. His days with General 
Webb were already numbered ; his long struggle for a place in 
the world had been crowned with success ; thenceforth he was 
to occupy an independent, influential and honorable position. 

More than two-thirds of the span of life allotted to him had 
passed, before Mr. Raymond was able to break away from the 
routine of daily duty and labor, for a brief run through the 
Old World. His temporary release from care gave him the 
most intense enjoyment ; and although his sojourn abroad was 
necessarily limited, he derived from it the measure of health 
and the enlargement of observation and experience which sub- 
sequently contributed to the success of the Times. A private 

* It Is pleasant to know that these differences became healed before the 
death of Mr. Raymond. After several brisk wars of words, at different peri- 
ods, friendly relations were restored. Yet no account of Mr. Raymond's life 
would be complete without an accurate record of his conflicts as well as his 

eaymond's entrance into political life. 87 

letter, "writtei} upon his arrival in London, in June, 1851, gives 
us a glimpse of the impressions conveyed to his mind by the 
scenes which were novel to him, and also conveys the earliest 
information of the impending change in his business relations. 
The subjoined copy of this interesting letter is furnished by his 
brother, Mr. Samuel B. Kaymond.* 

" LONDOS, June, 1851. 
" My DBAB Brother: — I suppose you will have heard of my departure 
for the Old World, and probably also from father of my safe arrival. AVe had 
a long voyage, so that, although I have been away from home since the 8th 
of May, I have only been in England a fortnight. I spent a week on the way 
from Liverpool to London, visiting the most interesting places on the way, 
I went to the famous Tubular Bridge over the Menai Straits, — the largest 
bridge in the world, — and visited the Duke of Devonshire's magnificent couu- 
try-seatat Chatsworth. He has a house as large as the Seminary in Lima, in the 
midst of a park containing two thousand acres, and presenting the most beau- 
tiful variety of surface you ever saw. The Duke is well off, having a yearly 
income from his estates of one million five hundred thousand dollars. 

" Here in London I have visited all the principal places ; bnt any descrip- 
tion of them which I could give in a letter would amount to little. I went up 
to the Crystal Palace this morning. It Is an immense affair, — one of which 
descriptions can give no idea. The building itself is enormous, and the arti- 
cles exhibited surpass, in elegance and splendor, anything I ever dreamed of. 
I like my visit here tolerably well, though it is not always pleasant to think 
that I am three thousand miles from home, in this vast city, and with scarcely 
an acquaintance in it. I have fallen in with three or four Americans, and 
have travelled with them. My health is better than it was last winter, but I 
do not gain strength as rapidly as I hoped. I presume I shall never be as 
celebrated as Samson was for strength' ... I have nearly finished my 
visit here, and intend to leave for Paris early next week. How long I shall 
stay I am not yet determined, but I hope to be at home early in August, and 
shall then try to make a short visit at least to Lima and Rochester. 

" You will probably have seen that I am no longer in the Courier and En- 
quirer. Two gentlemen in Albany propose to start a new paper in New 
York early in September, and I shall probably edit it.f 

" This is the mail day for to-morrow's steamer, and I have had just time to 
write this, — intending not to give you any description of my travels, but 
simply to let you know where and how I am. . . . 

" Your affectionate brother, 


"' To whom the writer is indebted for many courtesies and much, assistance, 
— especially for free access to family records and correspondence, which ap- 
pear in print for the first time in these pages, 

t This passage conveyed the first hint of the intended establishment of thee 
Times. The circumstances which led to the birth of that psapecare set forth, 
in the ensuing chapter. 









An interesting history is connected with the origin of the 
New York Times, — a history hitherto unwritten, but in many 
particulars interesting and Significant. 

A peculiar combination of political events in the year 1848 
led Mr. Thurlow Weed to contemplate a final retirement from 
the Albany Evening Jownal, which paper he had elevated to 
the rank of a controlling power in the State of New York. 
The Journal was offered to Henry J. Raymond, who was then 
engaged upon the Courier and Enquirer in New York, and 
who had not yet begun his political career. Raymond was 
but twenty-eight years old ; Weed was already a veteran in 
politics and journalism, and had established his reputation, 
and buill up a prosperous business. But Weed had enemies, 
who began to scheme against him. He Avas willing to rest 
upon his laurels, and give place to younger men ; and his first 
choice was Mr. Raymond. The offer to transfer the proprie- 
torship of the Journal was formally made to Raymond, in 
1848, through Mr. George Jones, a banker in Albany, who 
afterwards became the partner of Mr. Raymond in the Times, 


lK« 'tc». N». 1(4 ."tAWAll-'rt'RSCT, bntw*on BfM- 

tmi Qljt tor au .cnM a wrrfc , of, wbe« th.7.^*f»r, Ihcy ■ 

Cwy^BavttMw-M itwl>a*l(ar «iM months or m rou- u 
S^cralr S.r^lr '-up^. ONf- 'JEMT. Mwl -ntwh- 

rne-^KW-YOKli*EVE?fI?<G TIME* 


y\h'i 1 AlKlF. >'t\VPV*PrKFOitTHP,<'nrNTK7 

ru'jL«b«lYTac:i Halmr^t M»r»am, kl-ttta km (uvc of si 
n «rn. in Ten* t.w SIJ «r kwmly i ■mtri Tu( SJfl. 

in l-i J"-!' !■> i>r.r =.'tlr>-»-.. ctk! ihe pui' r lu ni i-asct-mtm- 
■ <t )' 'i^l^Ib* \■i■.^■v )>:i >>> lu-'Jt-paiyTJiebt.B mailo. 

|fj-ii'.#ni 111 all <■!>»»-* wmibfc psM-m 4itraj3rp 

V1AV,«'HJ^V-Ji>NES* Co.. Pabtohrni 

oik Paito ®mt^. 

VOL. 1.....NO. 1. 

5(£W-YORJt, THIJRSDAY, SEPy^iBliK 18, ISJl. 


Ijr, w&leli 

lh«»rTeni,tlK! Very art oTibr wat«r ift ^b< " sopflT PMtdrst »alltT««bly tM Mt ■» Ikr .hamm 

1 ih« .J1i«pl)ii-,tin«it vouW aid iHe lmprta« ou ih< body of Ip iK)t*y a»j ffiMas wrtl-dtopctie*. t»in"M*»'- 

I lAci-Tswl'^ U.f f^iprhmfnt (> ii'tr-1 lojntl'fvthu ^ipfrt- PiMliX-rt 

^ «»n. Tiic mahf •( ilie Amwne*, we uniirrfliaail, i" J . Tk« nombw »tfljoii'-ii»-f«nrn»i,-wBlot> op>«*W fr^'»- 

■ qulli; the rrvorHc of that juji) dr^Krlbed tur tK>w« are fpt tjme'ha>t n-'rord^ r-jmUfi f f t ynii bvnr AM Htu- 

Blwrp, niul the l.r*T*dthraf Warn, v.'M-ii Is i-murta-ra !'!'•, ton onUnf CduwiHUhni aii.««iiia U ttma v\iy- ^OOL-ol 

• ta fTr%taM tbout paniM ut l*i>: smIqoiam ; *u far <-oin- itnn iiamkcr kbom f ilcrn )•>■*(• IbHarc^ IVrn*^«» in 

! cKiiBjwitrnliP oihiT niwWl But ihc Uraa([hl of w jut , favoj of ttie pHiloiiciii.on rflhf Punirt orOi? pM.»Jn.lV," 

I ai thPhrrWRialriflliif-iNmi ihiw feel ; audit dcejn iu< . Tli- '•ounnl of v-y oi Mar-eOK-i has jUjt prj;.^>iia-i<» 

to ihre*.iiir,ca %n murh iuward tb««pni ! Judeiiictrt on fiv-e nwu tii'lon^dfUKW 11 lb raipnjnt ff 

Thi' luHke ta lm Mutluttvr to pnat flmgliia^'-aaiti-L- dranxx.a, wtt» mot i/ittf^r taatiit felled (IMr aora- 



The Election in Tranoe—An-esta, &o. 

Tlic Htfrnl Mail Steamer L'uro/M Mrrised at 
Boston j^HTTtiaj' »9rt*n«, 41I "Aimii o w'rfoidu ' U-r 
—Ha 1 lfe *Ktil 'OT. tvtM*^n« n«ve:i R'aiiroq^ iraln, 

Llch lAV ^M*«fti.-l, afiA r»<CTWil ^a ei1> ai an earl}- 

By tbU nnvwi w« bavc r^cmd onr rCpilar EscUA 
Uftd FYeaf h flica. vrilh eorrcnj^ondonrc, eirculira, 4ec., to 
Saturdaj , 61I1— Ih* Ei-roya't Jaj afitailtng. 

The frewa ^ this arfivvl baa conaldifrablc iBtcreat, 
•bonib H 1* luK. oTBunling loisorUnE*. 

te Ek^ '^NO) po\tiii:(l afftira are fuiqt. Toe i/un- 
koMt amyoi at Sontbampinn on- Tbundayj^Cbf 4tli, wicb 
Aa Mwkl)!^1h« e>ecutton at Ravaiu oC ttM fin>- men 
VDdcj C«A.' (Mlienden'a iwsbikiiiL "^ deialla of the 
■ewB ara 0vHtxt Icngtii in \hf. Londan-papmt. 

Ib Fbmicx sncntioB i» ctaJeflj afcB ortwB with Fpccato. 
tMtu on ihc aijmiichiiie rrmldenial c^cHos. The 
Fruiee da JolnvlUe la clcirlr to be a candidaie, and wiU 
dpobUetir he a MbnIbTiiitdaMe opponent or Lotua Napoto- 
« than tv ottarUet nraU'bc sclertcd. 

AJW(b«r " G<RMpura(7 " haa been dM«ovei>pd in PvM ; 
toty-'even arreatH have been made by -the Ptriioc 

In'AuKYmiA htntlliy I9 the foverDmenl aUU Bmoiildem 
•B4er th« aaatea wUk WeaMonal oubteakB. An afltar 
wok pUtsLWcw Oe^e-Wmri'lii^ betveHi »-rvaLe wad-- 
«at parv*^ ac.Vsral ^ntlumM, af (|v knit-tr*«ul 

In PuBrroi.L attAiuoa n a»nol*cd liy aa.'^cmaatlaii 
•fa Cabtai«l MiDlaterof tTrOwTjr. He baa 'i.nfiieil vmH 
•one tefbre ihe eiiirtn of taw. 

Tbe ncwa ffi Roe^DTH'sjoUa'-^ t« ^nflrmed, hut the 
tiBM t> Eow aaid to bftv*.*'rfMn tbe Uth of Sepumher. 11- 
la aMd tlHt hOTor-.isea to yo fltvt to Sitftanj and pro- 
vUa tkcrt tot t*-^ «da««tloD &r bis chiMnu lAd ibcn pro- 
Mad «• iha I jnUiU Sums. 

Tta m^jtjtf naikct K'acnta so ItetorC of niar)L«d !•• 
•"•^ _^ 


' Tbe Qu«pn wMf olwent on hr^ Vint to Scot* 

iMd •mhen %tK WdliQeH vtf? vDChutaMMaay recimet!. 

Tta EOitWilarnintirMaa tie Mtnet BQnwnw* Tlatten. 

Tka ^tUMLcBOBaad T«e«t|aa ware . 

WeiDeitdey, .- 41^17 prrsona-. 2,l)a,,12«. 

TharMar, 44,S09 pnaono— 3^3T,18ii. 

Tbe i»e«ao«i^f*T«4BclBg prlcm W aovKKfy urgcil. 
la DuuUa U ka »*M«d ibai the Gorcmnenl bnteitd 10 
wmA roar MdiUviMtMgirDidita AT liiCulr>' rrom BoiClBiid, 

tv 1 ) ct irs firt^n ks '-onLmerelsl. Amert^an ahipprrs hivft 
ireliocd latHy to prefrr itpMil lu large capacity ; as tb'-j 
fiud ibai r«i»Wiiy, b? Tai lititiuK certaUny of MoTemeiii- 
■st\<\ a tuutt/filicilyfrt' voyages wabiii a given tltaer returns 
a lnn!(rlprt>fh 'li'an slufc^r end more iinceiuin vnyagiiiic 
wtlli ireaur MUc. The model of tbe AoKrica ia the r- 

ied8ui»»t;huHherc i" no room <riiherf(ir cfta^n i.rd)ft- 
niay. sbip-buiMing m thiu <:otuiU7 ia not aijuiiiBuLi a 
f^Hudrrnhtu number of KbjpH arc made winually. And 
there can be do doubt that tuiy wcU-teated modd wHl 
MiKWi liiMl.iln way ui our ili^kn. "*•'*•, itball not t hirrrrurt*, 
bemacb t)ebiiiil mfltF itiac'tcal prozrcMof stup-builkliug. 
Nor li* it to bi- BSBumCfl, that bcrnQ^*; enipiniMMn bin 
b^tcn acietice, tbai ttn' litf? la loj tejd n dcvpair. (m 
the contrary, cmpirirlnn haa always been ih.- Jacha) to 
ihioretic »ficn<!c. auil cvtrry duii-overy by the v arkliig 
Rittpwnglit ouh bnDi;:i tm ncanrr to itie deaideraiuni— a 
•mtnu/ic nil». ' ^Vv liivp brar^ an AmeiiCAU \:%^T'-vt iHf- 
iMMibai Ki.riaaJ, by toaiina Atn<rlr»^ uonid r-^* the 
(Atpolse tbf a i>*» riTwt, wfiicli nhouW igafti givi hi« 
C"m>tr>' >* fcwtnmnifc. &ach fnandlj f0Riiatloint *W 
rt»8lr> It ]s bnlthe pndc of li-m, who fur the moiofcirt | It 
g«ca jitrepiosl in the Mfarrh for tbe common good. Anore I tbia oecajiion 
iQvidioaa feaJPlBK «nuU have kept the America at a dio- Ihomie* that 
tancc froin our wairr« : o> it in, our fnend-i ta.:ti-n ovtr, 
wilta na'.uni! pride, t'l niak« iik a psrlj in the new idea. 
From 'kr Zioadon fli^artiinrr, A<af. ^. 
The AmPiican rhailvjige litzpulaiing for at 
)«aa^a Hiv-knot breev, prove* chat tba Amrnca niiix< be 
iiwboteaonie a^ well. an a faict craft." A six-khot breeze 
wlib ^ dieaa Icat in a head aea woald be 100 mui-b fur 
uany of oorerv^i yacliif,_w)ii-li, ifritey arc broiiehl to 
reducing liail, are overwhelmed by tbe cicfsa of (beir 
maafli and apum tti a aea way. 

Tbe uutli i». iDey^re baM B>r ih* imide ofthe Isle of 

Wicht,M«dluT nw[i«n whoukeioinebiingEor fa-iiiioiro 

aahe, kaowliig iio<1ihii( iilnjut .iLe Diaifcr, Udvlog no real 

UBtc, f<i>r -the a>«i, NUt>}«et to Richne<>>(, ana eonflriing thtir 

Irrpa to Uurvt C^oolt to the ^mti, Ryde lod Porutmooih 

10 Qtc eaal, and |>re(crniic l" ibein ttic SoutbampioQ 

water if a v*e<iilier-tuJc Yai«(e« a iwpple oA the geaUe 

SoUflt. ,Tbe ^eal pleasure of tat-oc s«uQe<nen ■•':_ 

■wa^tM' about lu ■fa-iuiatrr'. .'*'A''l•J^"l*^' ooaU'-crewa 

In wmart eqoinj-^vM. daitgliag after tliem. Many a 

ywlK im^fiy «tlni frcin ii« ruoarinp at Cowba In a 

w||ol« aesdoo ^ b« ici waXe «f tm tbaC loacUoo, there 

ta "jfenljof ljoal-worU^io-*tng.hachwi«da aod towardu, 

hahutg vod •IgnalliuR- 1%ere arc eUepttooB , tlii-re 

are aoinc aeore of iIk iwo hundred 'oiwnbefB of the 

Rof d Siiuadron Club wtao axe good aaaawn, ay, andc«a- 

f rtegt navlf;Btoi« to boot ; baU the grcul majority ara 

urMuDc^L Tbestber Cltdiaetuitain a raucb lar^r pro- 

ponlon of neaateii amoDi: their menibcrv, tv-cause with 

ihcio iL ta JM( a maner at fasbton .ao mtich as it w with 

the acHrtOerBtjc !^«adron. Soma yeon ago a member 

of ibc "Qm^f* <-'l^l> undertook to man iua yach^ fbe- 

(VoeoWandTO toua) whli gentlenifD, irwJuhcrs of tbo 

Club, eichiHivejy, not em]ilo7iii|! a wnf»e wnrLinit-maD, 

and to aail brr M^'Sat any eeuel of (he ^qnaKlmi, oiaa- 

ned in llht inann'-r bot the cboilen^c tell to the grifund. 

Aad m-fJI .t Rii^t. fiar ibomft tb'.re are aome f<-w niem- 

bera of ibe Royal Variit S^Madron wlio know wneJhrr a 

gaff-topaaii la properly aat ne aw, yre have oar doabta 

whether there le one who roMld go ai^ft and \\<t it. t» 

Ike topmat. Hut no diitii r haw tibaUeTC ibi- lane vi. ot 

hoar mnrrb iM m^ra faabioo, ti« taie.-r.n iH«yood one, 

aii4 b» eiicr.llriii >;oo'hiu- n- is kuv< ^-411110 ol forther 

improvcrwni, w»iirh we ir-isi ih r-'*^">t Icaaon rf tbe 

Amenea will MUriOlHlt. 

The vnienn yarbter, the Mar^nM of AQftaMa, ofiaa 
aeeinxlhf Ametka, ik reiwrtrd to t.ii-<- rem^rLcd, ■'If 
Bh* ^ rigWi, v>c v<i all wiomt" 

It le r« he borna in Runil, bo»c-'cr, that ■oaathlag^ be- 
ffidea fpecO tf to be .oriide>tcd iulbi- yacht. A yHcbuauat 
have McrM'3*:'' aiid ncCMrMDilaiuift, nnd tmiti thCHe jMMita 
are ii< ')ir Attterrea HarnliCTd to^pevd S'lli «« llirvr no 
douhi lUai HOHHlhiDK ii'iy be kanu rrom a eraft wliieh 
[iiireii a Nti-uot b'rr«s(- aiKTbeatii oui chpoeM ; and it 

rule's tn iitM:bordln>t(.on an4 revvti, toJUae M«, at Or- . 
angv. Four of there ha^e baem roMemoed to Amh-and 
i1<e filth' a«iiiit',f(i. 

P, S. 6i o-rfcci.— For «*rCT«t !U^ -ragw rnHars 
of n plirf, Oiaeovered ip Nria, ^ta^-pwrnilol. La^ 
nlclit a TiHmtieT of arrMla'inrB nafc, m retation to 
WUch I have joat heard lhe-«ll*«lii|*ceaBift. H baa 
foranme lime b^n known ti> tb|upiUnc ttat l*a^u R*L'tr) 
andWa^'lrl'a r-ntrfl Etiropemvamiahtee were m sor- 
(e^poudence, thriMlgh tbe Cemrai i€t m wk i^ttatjfaet jf 
I^ndon. wiib : GciwaApMWime^BMliK V> ^ttt- -^ 
man naine<l Meir w'ae the dabqcai* emptov'.y) tV ffjnamit 
iiiMrueiiiniH (0 the Parta nownbtie* from ilte two eaot- 
mittecfl in I^ndOu. Bwitea ihia. ^t-Xtvocau, ahmlS 
Mpillard. formerly siecreiary ii» Urim Ro!)in, waa ip-jl ^ ^., 
rtnirii:d bv thc'lotteT to atfuti": n in#urf»e!ii»waj coii- 
hiitlec lb yiia', teadv to tako anaaaC a aigaal lo be sr 

yen ft<UvceU. wiM ms4c a apueh >a bia MfVltT «f 1 Ua aevetreat penalty M iha law^fyaaaylvaiiU. I nm 
rvyej rtAmb-iont'V. cSnil Ahiim BoMtenlxij, yar- efry ffc.u.l that *L* lir^^aiq* •» <*•« ■od •'t** 
nhaltK laOiit, ai<4 ekiaf oT tlw farty af tbe <mrear Ibeae ofrendax have fcccn^ea»t^»aawtv«ni»olBc«ra, 
r c* ill tV -*.-6d4 ctaaiber rf Pnwsia, replied 10 M. -L ffjmii me. f-nnamtn, baviag Umb kbvtoI «U jo* 
\.-»K'i«*»ti. . j cameof Aii»itiyjrcf!.y.*ar jiiB*, napeatfaUylo sojt- 
V :'-**rftom Borito •fine Mtb olt.; »tate« that tJp ( e«*' Oiaribe ll'Sof rtbi-Uioa or *um^^ectklna|ral;>';.- 
I.lrt■l.■u-« ^icie,V>aThai, w<UTigerou*'y -IL TJ'cl>iBt ' Bern" la the romtty of LaneaM*^ » aafwhaiaalae in 
>if lil- xf-'*ncr 01' L>rtiiMia will nk.e: 8n |bf ll:b in-O.' { (bl coptnwiiweali h, b^ no real AondcUm, and m b'i 
-•- — . f oStedvc imi^Qt^tion on a bnie M% of tnt UMeiw cifi- 
ri'ALY 'cTAa. Til-re u no .Qaurreaci<«af|rn«*eBaBtuiLBac2a- 

li>^^^S2*^i':f^"'?h *"i'?L!r'*'*^iL*'"K\'^H«" tS.pofern,mdloanyaart-«N^e.„ierat«n. Itio 
be^i,e<H^«( «1i!.o« the -'iKhtei r^-«ls*Ke, Imt 'liai a , „„ ^.J^j^j or^tkr^n of TJ VnTTio ihXthat. iiianv 

\ pax of tbw Sijte, reaiaibBc* 10 tl* law goea andatrct^ 
or uDpnniHbtd, or that thMVCZiMlaucb « avflnoat aa 

efliqt«il «1i!)i>« the hHcUte 1 r^-^lsAW' . 

rk^iinhir oecurret) in the nurilt of lli- IbIsh'I 
[cara fncntb'M ac-eodnt ibu .Major de Saat Elia. oAa i>f 1 
[be n^A'Htitg romrnia«ariea, while co litN^qj 10 .S'ulvl, 
wttlfatreWeon ef twelve dra«oon% wai aiurkert by' a 
I'artu ol-tWidiUi, v«boJ1red lour abuta4i btaa; hta lf»r-ie 
wisAvfJndetl, and Lira flap itf bin coat pKre«d -xah n 
baJl.' T^res if hi* f^^irt wer^aiao wosade'l Thebsml- 
itH ba>n|KM been arrcai*d. 

Tili; Ntog -f ".ephTf, ^nja Tie fiqtfscU ladeptndmC, 
iia« JDHi ippolntfd t eo<Ttini«KKin for tt« reform of the 
pHKoa^ p klH kinadom. Urn Majesty, la order (hat tho 
inilhaM*'.be kiio"[>, liJ*r^iiOe«i'»l »-i:veral ntemi^r* M 
-^ - -ft iivtor.. niidu, tAUiiiow iht taooi^i of thiK rom- 
. 'C|ltea to ^ Mil. ^nih iia iiMrinbera, Um diffiirciil 
priBMis In. the cny of Naplrv- 

I tkia aa aluplr t aa po» ii 4.iu i M . 

. _ e .byntni annoaacea the Aeaih *( om of 

Mv^btiOaref the itonnorable year IH», natnaly, the 
itft. ThB»aa T«a»ne>,.*iwf ttaa-iwaclCT g yi um Igfludcd 
« iha iuoiHlMta<lcti|K«t of ntathca ADOaap Qaoarai, 
dr. A. B. C. Ssttth. Vp w 194 he na on* aT (ke moa^ 
nt»a anNa't^" <* '"' Kepeal rrioreaent lAa<e4 by 
I Duai,t|(j,S«. ^.--The weiffbcr has bcoi eiMeaMtf 
Aa d»taf lo«. pnaent -vfttA- <ui^ iha agnfniltarat re* 

poru iraaa afl pattB of i-- — 1-.— u... 

jhvarablr. I4 the uouth. 
wamlctrd, aitd tbe yield 

uperatioiix an: nearly 
rtid to b* nood, both aa tf- 

rieuK of a fnriHj (hel ba4 p<n luvtf m conmaoii^ioti 
with ibe^|fajiD»«wu. (Ml* haA hi«^ kikS proarrM as 
TO tfo a/tJ^t to neiid to r*iiuj'»t witjui ihH laai fcw ibtya to 
!akel^>mi-Ttu!nfT'«* iiiwirBnioi-. 

on tbe retBDi (" Parts m tui ammaart aent bn 
tlu Pf^iert <u PiIifKinlitnned tb* du^l, 
litit; hud --Kiiie Dm -uttin^ aNiop ^9 .^U, 
tha« procaedaivi. -w.t e tt M tt weik j aa' d mraotiaraamls: 
ly. to arru»t pcr^tana deel(M<«)l at Kt' Aa w u M, Portyt 
■cvf^n arrcbiH hB^4 been n)a4e All the priaonetv ha*o 
boeii aeril to tbe txi.-<.'n of Masaa. oad thin eipl:ti!ia t'.k.' 
reason wby tl» Prpftet of Poller hx wilh»a the«e frw 
daye aent awayaevvrul nnaonera vtm w^ra ibera, la 
orrt^r to hiTe vbcant cells it tun diavwitioo 

The msNt pr^jm^m amotnt <ha rcrwmn nreatcd ar« 
M Da'i'-au. tie direnutr of r*e V-. J» Pnnar*;. and M. 
MiMaiil. tti»' advocate The reM ire ihocure mAviduala^ 
pnnnpBilv joarrrvmen, iratfe«ni<t. and liifjebaatra,^ 
Oar of 'kem mtrnnMJ. J, f.hCTval, alllWr^phar, \k do- 
aeribed bp en " Irieli aobje^." Z-i-t -ilshl. « *wjt J 
o'etoak, 60 "Serceim It Ville" marc^^ to the ^ aft da [a 
Ilatiia-Sa«c^ Hue CkiwHl 81. flin-rr where they ar- 
rei^d a dcn«B prrwoa. :5«veral ttfita^ej of pobec Wv-ra 
6ent in the nigjit to 'liflereiil ^ aancn ol Paoa^ wieh in- 
Mroetiwwi (^ete^te vramftta of are*. *a tnatij as 
^0 praoarre ha^e •■ready baaa teat t» the Mnaa 

]| IB Bflfd at the Falal* de Jnatice ihal mnat jiipanaiM 

eapcra, caianaiiBg tna the tmtim CanMUiaea, have 
rati aeil/.ed. 

f arlH le alMOiuteiv qu)«4, and ao aana or evta mnte- 
niem hBB iMta ^odbcad in fho poKfc ousd. 


VirwsA, An^. 37 — Tbe JecBM ofthe Empe- 
ror on the re<tpoB«iUllliy of iLc ■aiatera, and ou tbe 
revtslbn of the ccmatiiuiMn. •cfragie In Marrli, i-^U, 
amooat to a ttaf^mm letragreaatut « abaotaUaiB. 
Ia Italy, Hadtiiaiu tk^rn an outbrak, ..od tbe avny la 
.aaidtotc rcHnforcBrf for the third time— i^n iluM.'iaud 
men are to march to the Picdmonteai fionlicr. Thm ii 
a report th&l tbe diMennoiiabotwcrBUw Croat audHua- 
gsriBii wiUiera -mn daily increaBiitg,m(l that tb&y >ed la 
a bloody eoDllict in fbe oalxhborMad of Verona. The 
papfTa .'ciuBui aiient oh BtKh eveKta>ui th» letura from 
Italy mention 11 aa a fort. In Uupiy iA« (endamkerte 
bad bad ravenU cooJIIcib with tbapaaanta, ami a 51a- j 

{edy which tu I'-a iiuiutk of Jaaa kap^oaad ai 9tem ' 
lar.a, nvar Gzoa* Waradin, ta ttt jtirring. Uke vi 
I epieodie «r a Fvanch Do^ et I rctaae t a* 1 bxi: vi fhwa an 
lllin<ariBc eentieinali uf tha Sdiar auiiy , who happened 
lobe at Vienna. 

A' a peaaanfa weaamc. when fm proeeaaftta of tha 
bctr^died waa moving t>nrard tbe tHreh, the gvaAjxra* 
q.j>TO)c IhhI tbe hfiiteand aaauaB—lkti iwirniBiiilr to 
divert herae'f of tbe red, white and geaa ribbnu wnieh 
abc haH in her trcaara, arcordiag Mihe curtooi m' the 
rnnniry ; trla, aajtng that rfeene coiaa w.jre revolii'-ioa- 
arv. The twidruroa^ objetied. Hing that alter tha 
crremaoy the bndc would .■oiiij>Jy w h i.'ir Otftin; of tha 

roalUctisg, but, making every doe allowance 1 
lior Ike toaa by the fatal cMemlc, there aopcare lo iit, na , 
ratMOal do^ tbat enough wUi be BAVtrO 10 auppty the ) 
wanla of a neatly din.tptsbed population. InChc mean- > 
wbM tke tUb^of omigration KtiU rollgon. 

a Bcw iWara in connexion with cmlirmdon baH jan 
aiaiiHaWrf HaafiT'" <be deoanure, by Lna eirJgrani nhip 
C«laai«, air^liiebec, of a number of comlbrtable fbmiliea, 
af tte Ikraitag daaa, from ibe neighborhood of Park, neat 
this elty. "Sa ftnlle aDd r an n m e r a tiag were the laiida of 
Paik eonaiaeT«d Ibr the laat SO yeara. that they were de- 1 
a^enated "tJ>«gaMer> gaTden9oriheciiy,"yieldin];CMtliey I 
did ancTeBnl« roiation crops (ehJeHy vef «taMoaana prim^ ' 
fcedlRg foiinllch coweI ibrpuchoin ihe year. Tbe neene { 
ta cbannd, and 'he ""i,K r.f.w ie, that the greater por- 
t^m of Hie people of I'ark, a aiost indnatriooB and cxiMft 
cUbb of apTtcolrnra'isiB, are ddmnincd to endorc no 
loTifer (^e harttsbJria to which they iverc of lute ycaTH 
vobjeetul to meet aolaiy the demands of " lax gatbcrcra, 
poor rxie rotlec tore, and landlord«.^ without beinj! able 
la provii..- ordlDBiy comiort for their thmUiCB. 

Tbe rr^Onnaneoa of .tha Ameneau yacht contmaeto 
Wtract atianlUfi. Several wtKotb In 77te Tmui and 
oCboT papcaa are drav^g aUentioo'to (be peculiar It iea of 
har coaatmetioD and recotnrceDdiiig the tinltaiuin of her 
to EngllBh buDdera. 

TbeAoMriDoin ajid Euffliah Tncht*. 
To the £*U»r 0/ TJm Tenet ; 

Sn— It la nlwaja regarded in blxtory aa preuliiu' to 
Ite ■«* diat)B(0tBhed genealB, that they have beat 
ka«WD bmrto ntrrvdlrMmen wprofltablu uw, and have 
frequently eoaverti^ the rtilns in .defeat into foundaiioiia 
of victory. W'e itrc now in etrcun.^tlaiitxs which give 
foUBCCiieto the display of such quali'aea, if wy posnen 
thetrt. Wt h^yfi been beaten— sign ally defisatcd — on our 
own Yemeni. Otir yacht squadron, ao lonfi maatera of 
ike Solent, hilberto viciorioajs in all aea Re'^''<- ^^ coni- 

ectely routed — 1 had almost aaid, pal to flight For a 
ng time, cot ore of the 5<olci>i £ea Kiu|:ii conld be 
AKind to tace th* eoemy or accept tna challenge, and the 
AiDericnn woold have retnmcd mthom hid gage being 
taken up, bad not the litue Titanla, of only half the ton- 
nage, and therefore no ad«qiisle match, l)ccn couraecou.t 
enoagb to ttstanl a defeat. Even the Alarm, which had 
bc«« ao long Ibe ehampkm of the English waters, de- 
rtiaed battle, ma victory of tbe America la complete. 

[The wrliar tbea goea^o at conalderable length to ppc- 
cUy the pecoliarraea ofthe iAmcKKii soil eoacladcs tboe .] 

I have enlerad tbua inlnualy into all these points, he- 
caoae t eodcelve it to be of grfcat lltiiHirtaocl; ibal wt; 
ahould wiaely and In time prcpara WhttivtB for the 
probable conf^at of neit yoar. W); brri fi&ri liKilf to 
tall next year by a blundering Imltdtion bf ibr ancsaen- 
Hata of OUT victor than by any oih«r cnurae. It is uost 
imdaairable that we Sbtrald ht> driven bf a madden dofcat 
to abandnn any of tha eaeellent points which onr ov.-n 
bmf experlenre may havt: tauehi ua to be nnqaeMlooably 
eaeelleai. The roormnees, ih" comfort, tha eseelloal 
aea-goiSir<;oaliiie», tbe r&B« of motion lo bad weather, 
are poicta m our own yacht -budding whlch^we ina.5t on 
no BccouDt abandon It Is otir duy, tbcrdfere. to aee 
what we muat do to win next veax. 

1. We aiOBt boild >acb(e of'hc n e wast const ractlon, 
of a« Urge a hIzk an ma> he likely to roiz» agBinal on — 
i. e- Botnewbal larger than the Amenca : and not allow 
oursetvca 10 t>e caught, aa thiayrar, wtih a v«£«d ol' 
half the lonaafc only fit t\rQ to ncccpt the chaUencc. 

4. We ijinai oikipt tbe beat ecientific priBciplefl si con- 
atniction tor the tiuild oT our new yacbtn, inaleadof al- 
'lowing old maKims of routine to govern a^. Tha Amen- 
cans have boldly adopted the wave synirm. and appllod 
U to rbc America in aa anmitl^teii form ; wc ranst aa 
beUTy adoni tt, and ^vc njined to oii.- vesaels by oOering 
o.ihe Water (hat liirm wbirh Bhalf produce (he tea-Mt 
iivtVrbancc ta It, uid receive from 11 tlit Icaft rcsiat- 

3. We uniat noi abandsn such 'fonnn of ini4«btp •«- 
I ^n as have been found to giv« caifv motioa tnl goAi «e« 

r-aTiliim I" our t»*ftt » d'-^l" 
jf. Vctuiurt iborvHhIv rcMlt our nvutcm of Tlgginc 

Tljl 1 liHiiiM BMai TW> tnu tt>v<>r> if wild In «*ist ftiex 

ai^Rat bonr**. ^ ItterbinicBl mean^ mu*i be adopted 
•0 tivc them (Mt Virm, and make them htcp it, Thi ao- 
^-. .ororttrf Aatancan bbiIh ban lonK beeu mailer r^ 
tAXoriilv to aeamen. Sail-cuttera have long resMcdthki 
ab^olliDenl of cbeHahrd prejudicea on tblshead. Tbey 
BtSat naw at.otice adopt .Ixt trtiaaall-thcDrj-or plana aur- 
Iheea, and carry it out— vhetber with tkf lue of booma 
or a n*a cat, or bolii, they must well ronsldcr. 

6. J^ae rtgglDg, the ainiplffr the ri^grlng, tbeftwer the 
tapeaBAekettar. Tbe Aoieneans hare lOna been dls- 
tt&guiabcd m thla m^wct for simplioiy and efBclency . 
MwiplicKy of ropoa ahd blocka laanoId-fauhlonodeiTor, 
oQt ot which we ara ra>Mly eaeaf4iig,-«nd the America 
merely gives na a iWab tnpolae in this dlFcctlon. 

In concluaion, I ha*a tmly to expresx a hope— «ae 
vMch baa promrMed Ihia lMtat^-(h»t va shall at* de- 
^ener^ite into volgv tmitattaa of otir victor, a eoarsa tfl 
which wa abaU ar**y« ha baUnd hlai-, bat rooaa otn^ 
■elrea to apply OMva^kdapandaetty than Uiberto tha ro< 
acnrcea of oar aetcaaa aqd aklU to the atuunmenl afiltat 
anpcriority la yacht i bnltdlntt ^wUeb wo hava httberto 
ftaatdad v.v ptMsaaad. I ktve the honor Mi be yoar obe- 
«i<iu aervaui; A Mnaih or SBvkaiL Yacht CLtss. 
From T*t iMttmi Sptilaioy, Jvj M. 
Oft one of our great naToJ porUr 'the nVipr 
bnUdiitf of En^kiMl has brtn challenged by nn'alini 
Taaad, and defeated iMaDy. U is arCniarkablc lncldeat| 
nod not aotialaetory in the aatlooal pride, 

W« may And aoi'.<-e in tba *rt« that it is due t« " adW^ 
'icA." Sir«ngc aa it mnct appear, U has only been in 
comparatively recent ttm«b tnat alieiupta Iuto bf?h 
made to reduce the water -dravlD:; power of the ahip to 
adtntifto-rtUc ; nnd hSthmo acieatie bJ- nu been b.-ippy 
jD lis elToni. Th^ vivtory orihc .Antcrica. if-we are itot 
■ilMa^ta«. pmDtlea0y refti(e"*thr tu-wi* hypothesis In 
CheM^rrb Ibr the piiiJOff<^tii;r'iiK;oon -in the icieni-o rf 
•UytoHdiBg. 'flMprlnciple of Mr. S«oit iln^acU'c plan,' 
Kv betitvFr ^^^* bawd un the fact that water diaplaeci 
by a M>dy wbii h is rvmoVtd ffTIs 'tbe vacuity, iitH un 
iknt-b Ly lalliug la at iIm mdea ti3 ty nain- tram below ; 
ftecro K wsa calculated that If a vessel was bnilt ahar)) 
4fU dacy toward tho boifa, hrmd a.aA shoUOw lonnrd 


This U tlip day on which the S«km promisctl 
to liberate KoHatilb, Prread, Bat&yaai, and tbe illustri- 
one pHaODrrs of Kotahia Since tbclket war firrt tin- 
obuneed, oMilwaii by us "onie wci.ksbaek, a rrgulBr Ort 
or mriracc lw« bei-a kept up h. all ike orfati", ot wau|d- 
!»«. or^ami- of (Ue frfirt loH i.y govVniui'Mf. -Thfy 
would break wnb ibc Porte, i'.'~ ambaMBailora bUouJ 1 Ix: 
uKlalr«<Ml, rc.aiiaiieii taken M rev\eiling Ihe Qoanian 
Ntsnmcttrin i.AJ)i1 IIm miiulu EatH wa« %e ke convuU(.-d 
beesone Koistiib ^vas sUewc^ 10 rv-crtve vlaits 81 Baya- 
w nter ini-texd of planting cabba^ea and dclbuding hiro- 
eclf Kfaiaai ansavamii at Kutahia. 

Tbe qncBiion ia. la troth, one «f mov Bcntiment and 
bumbiui.y ; tor iw one hepen or thinks to wortt barm to 
tbe EmpircK of AuKtria and Ruaaie. or 10 dtainrb llicir 
peace br HVrating Kon&ittL. Admirati'in for ilic past, 
ni»t intrfgui; fur Ute ruinie, in the aole lOotivc wttb our 
llunsarian ayTitpathizern- Hal the aoteoui poliilclana of 
i)L P'eteraburg and Vienna cannot tuiderstand that tbe 
moei pnictica) of eartbh raceH, ifie Angl'j-SanoD, ahoulJ 
KiimittaQeoualy , in Kn};isnd and m Ameriea, have been 
token with nucti enthuHiBNiic ejmpalby for the Huoga- 
nan catiBC, and for iti* cbiefa, tnk*a bOine d«ep poliry 
iB) at iLe bottom ol iL We need not say to English 
TfaArrs thill neither BriioBS nor AmcaBann have the 
the kaai RdmiAtiire of |*«licy in th^^ir lovn of Hungary 
hiid Knamlh. Il in from Meaiuneiit, ibe uRmingl«^bom- 
aiRT pnrfto bravo mm einifgling iu a rifftileous cau*e. 

TUc fuiH/c hi*- 111 Iluiifijry and itBdefluiiiveconueUon 
Willi Axwna. arc ilmie-. weU-lieve. verj much in A«o- 
rria'B ovi n power. Adfrilie complete eonqueat It has 
efleeteil, great wiadum, moderation, Bad lib-jrality on her 
paiimgbl, we tia\e co doubt, Bccure nungsry to tbe 
IfAr>Brnc!i and lu thi; Amirian po«er 100 (Irmly for 
Kosarra ami all hie inJlucticc to shake. Dul there la no 
wlHdvn, Biodernlion, or Uftnliiy in Ibe eonduat of Aua- 

Nai only m baie&sed t>raimy the adopted nrioelpie of 
gorrruw^X, bnc it la the avowed one. Until now ihe 
Aostrliu) rmnisttra were (fuppo«*ed to be responsible to 
the nation, or to mjioc lm:gilnary Stutex. IJopea of a 
coiipRtwntoiial cyhirm, at lM:it for the fnturc, were not at 
an einJ.' Tbe Onion ofjuimttenal rmpouaihility dul not 
tbe leaat-deov from the ai>Eoltite powtr of the eovem- 
mmt. But the young Emperor would not tcler&ta tbo 
deronnis (Ictloh. An'J ht L;j))pub1ujlicd a "clenin decree, 
declarins fhiU hia lalntflirrv are ool>i reapLm>;Lile to bim- 
«-!f, V.ti^ one well knew nni-tt 'i. be tho fact. Why 
iken lidrlare It T In order to promujgai-^ divine rcbi in 
theory as ^vcD aa pTBclice, nnd to ik.-' k >o mtalllab it as 
a philottepliic truth, >vhat was alrvadv (•itabliabed ia the 
only «ra4 it could be c»4abliahed, by lbrr.e. 

SiiHi ifoctTinairfg u( despotlHm, doch puerile poliii- 
cians. monarcha whose aovereignty la anboonded by the 
horiion of ihoir Ktoff, and lOaiannen who have takeix a 
per^nnal pitiuBtticoumituliops—aucb aicii oatbeaecan' 
not fouud au einplre, re-Biiach defteilve provinces, or 
give ihet C'.infnleiiec aiK) fW-edom, without which indua- 
trj cannot hrenthe, nor prosperity be dev^oped, Tbe 
hope of coiitolMaimg nurb on empire as thai of Germt- 
r) , b> dinylaff hi roval and Imperial edicts, t'ae grun- 
drechl or natiogal ng'btB, voted by national asaetnhheav 
and promiU^iiug inaienii the law of mlntstere, being 
.oiilj'iefipoi'iilileto aovencignit, aad sovereigns to GoD i 
this is tbe (.urrmt miatake of eeeking to pacify tbe nine- 
leenih century h^ reducing 1( to Uk IfBonuUtsn and aer- 
t iiiiy of the flftaeBrii. 

Tbe big children, who n.SB<!rt ibat political Msdom is 
the gin of IIcBvrn, and who prove themselvea pos- 
atnarJ of 1: by covcrnini; to this way, may well dread 
Koaautli, as they moat ilread every inaepeodcnt manihat 
wlelda.a tf^*ard or a pen. Well jnny tbey tremble al 
etory nhadow. And >ci they arc wrong to dread indi- 
viduals, sod maaaUi mot->: Heaven dnd earth to ft.-tler 
down one poliucal Promcthetia Uke Kooaoih. For ihelf 
ayciiefn of government saon converts a whole people in(0 
• lacjf ^and of r«iiBp:ratiWa, biding Ibetr time to bb ifl- 
BUrgenta, and-^Hy biding that opportunity from tbe ceF: 
lainty, ihai a faiuitoos govvnneni cannoe &il to af 
fonl It. 

However, we may (oref-ee aI1 this lu ike inevitable 
course of ihiBgw, wc have no wish to interfere, lu fo- 
ment roiiepiracten, or kevp aitve a war orjealooay With 
s great Eoropcan pouvr, wbaio^a tbe folly of iia mls- 
jovemmmt. bm-h Aoscs aJwiTB tare themselves 
wHboiit foreign intervention; ana if we -should ball 
with pure wetecmie and delight the coming of Kossuth 
to oitr sbores it is wiih no desire to prompt or aid bim 
ro B renewgl of that conlest, whjcb for tbe prcscnl 
rj^ch has bccQ dceUsd in Ihe fidd. 


FaKia. Wodi.cada) Evealng,_S<>p(. 3. 

Tho-jiriTioiirKreoMmt of the Priacc de JoiovjUe 
as caitilidale Mr tba Pretidync] of ilil R^oMie baa 
crwBtetf ft RTtflt ifensaiion btre, uii '. ailurda llic Paria pa- 
pfrB Iii)|>le food tat co um ie ni . I: would appekr that a 
eonsidcnble portion «f (he Ortoaolau Are dlas«IlsA«d 
wKh Ibe appearanea of .tbe Pnncc de Joinvitle aa a esn- 
didatc. 8oRut 1^ tbem tear that be will be bruLan, and 
that (be dcft'Bt w&l have aa inJurluDs sflect m (he ooabI- 
deration ofthe Orleans laii:>ly witta Ehe country. Others 
louk oa tbe candidkteship with cotdn^.'becauK K was 
8»aned by TAe Oniw.llie oriran ofM.Thlera An Bitlele 
appears in TJie AnemMte XaZwiaU of to4ty. which baa 
excm-d great surprlae. That pa^v^ wb;cb la the organ 
of M. Cuitoi and of the rusioaixts, declares that If 
the PritKe de JbintiUe ahouU be «o Ui-adviaod as 
rtaBy to throw himself iota itt* revoluUonary cOo- 
Btei^m. ie«, "il would not bsaitatc to cotobat 
with all Its forco a. caoAdHttdUp which -wauid 
be a aerious injury u the I««n«ix:hical rrind- 
ple, ana would throw tbe la a nd y Into an ocean of 
dUttrnlties dnd dangefd." I^mq the wbolo, tbe Impros- 
aiofl created oQiDiig lbaOrfiBanla(a,b>'ttaeaaaottBaeinent, 
anpesTO to be tb«l the policy of ukrwing a Pitnce ofthe 
; • Hoosc of Orteana to appear'** a eandldata tor Ab Preal- 
drncyoflbeRr^nlBIle, ia extremely dunbtftii i» llsell, aad 
that, at all evi>Bii^tbe Bnnounr.«mcut Is prvmaltire. As 
regards the Lairttiiniala, ibey iti^clare their detemnnad 
iiiwiiiity to the "adventure;^ and treat tbe whole aOhlr 
with ridlcale. Tfir Ifnrrer; the organ of M. de Mootftr 
lembcrl and Ihe rli-rgy, alaa t^poses the Prince ae jiaa- 
viUc, and foreisUs th>it tb« rwUi >Ditsi be *' the sbaaa- 
ment, nird probably tho ruin, ofitbc Orleana Ikmily, 
tvblrh has ao lonf, so terribly, and ao perBuveo'injfiy 

11 nnut be Bdmiuad thai rbe eri»e«4s JulilTiIl«L is de- 
cidedly the moM fvDtilt'.jble oiyoDont that. LouU Napo- 
leon baa )ei had ro ctpiiend' with. Tbe fHoub of the 
President arr ttiWy ah^T ta (no danger, aod *n using ev* 
cry cfforl to n.eei it. None of Louib Napole«n*H (Vtcnds 
wtTH to iluiV that tVin PrjncB ile Jowv-iue wiU liave a 
a. majority of ^r- ., ai lue election, but thay know tbal 
aJMhorotCH^itcn -1 tba Prince de^Joisville wJHheta- 
ktn Crofn Lviiv Napcieon, so |I)« tbe fiuxl ciMtCf Of 8 

aNvii to rrect the city of Hamburg into a 

Tur^ii ;inimunos miliisry evolnuoni 
irpif Nt iiiinC t'.tr. battle ol Mogitiooi'i , 
ope>ir<i lial} c« tbe invaaton of the 
i^ral La MantMrs laeutrwod witb >bo ro- 
of lOe-cvDiuiioas. 


Tb-ltHtilay, Galeae- of the 28th ult. aii- 
ne.UM:< . Mat '".IE brigadier of carahinaerB, iMw>, in IMd, 
ftT-Ai-il ttf' Ba^ni, {the priret who ai.led as chaplain to 
Oanba)ii% Tfonpa, and was abot by Ifaa AdMrlana.> tna 
becnaBrnMBioaied at Lommacbio. 

'tile ^ecan MdnUvre pnbli-ibn' ft' scrieti of 

regobi'iMMi issued by the nniiiaterof worship at Florence 
on lb* 'iT% nil , concerning the right of censomlup re- 
M.rvcJ ^^4tl• bichcpn b> tbo new concordat. By iLeaa 
regUai.'^ti twi-ry tii»lioi> lia.i (he right of uaumm'i'pover 
<^i'lHMe 3aal worb> to he pubtlahcd within hia dioirmc ; 
dvtork ^c!ed by one btabop cannot baapprgved by 
anotber, akd ib'Tre 10 no appeal f)-oia tbe dccimor. of a 
blalK^ nrlrtch matwiw. 

A dUttlbtion ofthe Ministry has taken place, 
we tyark, A Nwlea, and anotbsr Cabiaet been formed. 

AcooMj|i^ to letters Itoq Reme of the VMi 
ntt.. the ^magcaeaniMd in (be eaalon by recen( Inim* 
dClR)nHai.Valuedai3.4OO,000n-.,oraboai£96,000, Sab- 
BcrlpUa^^«v opcB all over Swluerland to^cover tbe 
loaaon of -e-e inundutiaii. The citj of Berne hBf already 
aobacnbrd \ 2,l»WV-. 

The fVet of Ireland was opened on the 5th , 
July u R>m<iav]k. Amongat the bDU pr«sgni«d was one 
cna>.nuig 'Ita (Tom the ISth Jane, IMS. forcieu vcssds 
Bbatl be ajtowrd to enter tbe pon of Keiklavik wltbout 
pas^wrtt af tikf anhoritica of tbo island, ana shall b« 
treated ualwilsL veaaeltl 

The elkged roBrderera of Mr. __ _, 

la deep entnigh without eia^gcfatfai M. have basa ar- 
reaied and Will be lr:ed,'and tiny M Iknlr abattoira will 
be viulc ip answar Ibc what ttey bKvc dane la eanin- 
venllon cf ibc law Biil i- the naioiime, let tat lnviF« 
jourrOopeTation, aii cmxens oa'^iBt:-'Tinia, not o.tly 
to see thai the law is euAircd, tv :u auJ lo liic cond- 
der.ce which we all feci in (bejMii-tal iriaunalR ot ibe 
land, by ab^dlniBg frwi) tindne vi^Btee of liagnage, and 
U'LUiig iht: law tike (IS i-ounie tfe^slld Vfoa U, gentle 
mcr., there le 10 Lancrxier rconiy laeaas af dwy.lo tbe 
lawa of tile luail, maiufeMod id tb| eaan tad pm^c ar- 
rest oltheae uffcudcTB, "luch wdllB all nnwBliinaaliiiw 
itaelf-tn practical otedierre 

Tbe pi;OT>'e of lb. It fODfiiv are nw of peofa and good 
orJe.- ana m-l ca-^iij kd aaide %n (de guft M dtuy 
wbtch Uie eonsumtioB paaarrttis. nej aiu bv^ Puaa- 
nyli^si.iBn loi'c tbe cniMnranon lU th^ Vnlon. Tbey 
vrill delect, an tbey have dmsia tHaeaM, and arreal and 
pn^ii>fi all who VK-iaietbelawaofHt land. Tbarsis no 
warrant, depend on it, for reprraciaaf the men of Laik- 
ccatcr cocniy as ir«iti>rt) and j> uil^aais la an "insar- 
rectlonary movcmrnt " Yoa dffibai, aniateatloUDy, I 
have no doubt, ^en iriust:ve 

I am dceplv indebtt^J'ta voq for ^grdlUf ute tbe op- 
portunity of ejtpre*Blng my views. SolJar yooi soro- 
munipltrn, 1 might ajt have bee* able to de so- Too, 
at>d Tny fellow cillzeiis at large. M be aaeured of lay 
niTh deunmnaiion .1: all hatards £| ander BO etrrOm- 
stances, to malnum the avpramaryaf (be eonaUttiUonj 
and mUnie obedience to the Uw.aHbe af (be Vottc^ 
St Bid and ofthla connnanwealth. 

In order thai 1 may be ave that ng matfrtt nay reach 
Hn desiuiatioD Cioor leuor having M aMUeaia^ coma 
to my banda,) I have mjuriitcd His WbKe la ■« it 

the handa of Mr. John f^adwalladi^ -^ ' — 

obaerra, Is first. I am, with grt4 
yoOT ooe^M 

W«. F- JoavETOK. 

lift An/rmore Swi of yesiarday. learns from tprivaU 
aourea, thai the Exacmivdaf Marytod, Gov. LowKtWID 
.take immediate aettoa apon tbe eOcklUlbrBaMB which 
lie has received restive to the rtoL , A ipirlal aHsacD- 
gerbas already been deapatehed tette Praai4sa« witb a 
•omnumlcauon en the eutitjset. 

A mulattfl «an, snppeaad la b( lbs slave Plakaey, 
owned by Mr. Garauob, waa tccp ivaaiday oa tbe bUla 
near Lancaster, nod several eH tans bad goaa la pur- 
suit of him. 

atort pro«e«ded to tbe ctuircU, bus 
bride was klM«)tng 11 i<^ xtcpa of 1 1 t altar to rwecivr ibo 
benedictum, the gendbni' iiahed irward and cat her 
ir>-M)oe anil nbboiia wuu sciaaoi' from ker liesJ. In 
Hungary 11 ib conaldern creit .irult 10 a fnn^^ls to 
rut her bair ; it cootry" iBz otnton t mfamy Nsiur^ly 
sn eBVay look plaat iiie ;ri nrfanne vao SAtail'd by ths 
brWegrooin, other grmlBrmca arnrct in aid af ibeir fcl- 
lowHdBcial. 'be psefit&, tbfugk wflHiii antt<r. raub^-'Kp- 
oB ibcui. Slid tile TV.-iHTt ^vni< lIic alaiftaer d s'^en men, 
three gendarmes and lour peasnnlSt amengin tbesi (be 
bridegroom aivd l>ie brotal a«B.:ilanl iClbe bride. 

Tilt I'rnmftskr 7.'\tiaifvty%, tk« Aastria has Jual 
obtiunr-d b< iiv^tiatiua a mtliiary r«fat it way thTougti 
Bavaria for the pai»Hcr af troofM tatiw fodoral tetnaa 
of Msyence. 

r«aUrc >l&va RUi Im I^«c«aUr Co., Pa. 

Our n kd«ra wi]l be already advised of the oc- 

ritm-iv^ til a lamcaUblir not aaJ loss of life at 
Chnbtiaiwj.L«i>casler Co., Pa., op ibc !)lb mat., — 
gTDwiag a-H.of (he aUempted capUn« of iwo fogitiTc 
siavw hy dfcetf owner. j 

In OT'li ' ta give the ronclunion oi this affair in an ' 
. . iMcUicil''" sba^. a Imcf ruminary of tbe etrcuA* j 
i!i'i.'"'^JJ'S^il?^.^^. i^ ^'.'1:52 \ '• '**'• '""• m"V be nerwavY. I 

A party Mcbt^oaad of Rdward Gofaaeh, of Balti- 
Buirc cofiLiy, ltd., hia two sons, DiakeiacPB Gor^tirh 
and ioshnr Gojduch, Dr. Tbonaa Piarn, Hanry C, 
JUiaet a ivputy Marshal, aad-two police eflieai^ 
froiB Pb^«4«tfhia, started from Philadelphia, wlib' 
a uair:' '-a4F ii^d Irr £dw&rd D- lE^TBUain, Cuiti i^ . 
Suiii-s^tV j- "'"*■'">'«''- 10 artert two (u.iuve slaves 
belOBgjnf to fdward Gonucb, ivho w< 'c supposed 
lolibiB tl»e Bctghtwrbood of Chiistiana, m Lan- 
caster cwinty. Aft^T spending a day in Cheater 
county, ther arrived at biraa ofthe next day, at the 
place m whichJV*'" supposcd^tlieifuptives were har- 
bured This waa x two-story atone lAtildinf, on the 
Ikna of LcM FuwuaU, alxtot '.lircenule8.froui Chris- 
tiana. Ab tbe party i>pproacht'(^ the bouse, one of 
the fogttifc slavra was identi6ed, but took ah rite i 
in the honae, and wns folhiwcd ly Mr. Coraucb and 
kia part}'. Whileiia tbe bouae, an axe was thrown 
at the Depviy listshal, and he fired. The negroes 
relomeJ the fire, ae^ Ibe whiles ietreid.ed outside 
of ibe houi^e, nhei-« thry'wvrelagain fired upon. — 
Netlher patty l-cin^iyet injarcd, a parley enBucI, and 
the Hvpatf hiaisltal read blond hu warrant for the 
approhenaioiv of the ncgrocti. 

Id the midbCAii this parly, a bom waa blown by 
some one ia the bousi;, when sixty or eighty armod 
bUeks rashed tii<on1heparty|(iroffl the adjacent waoJr 
ana camfiek!)), and after a few words discharged a 
roUe>'. Ai ibis fire, the elder Ml. GoRsocH fell 
dead, and hia son I^iriiKSON was ehot in tiic breast 
ssd lusga. dx. Pigktk vna also shot in 'several 
places, hut succrrdcd in "'^1- in^ his escape, together 
with the Mvslial. 

T'tic mattcj- (replied, irojn 'some ovcietghl, till Fri- 
day moming, when lufomuitlbaof tbennhappyevent 
waa eKen lo ihe aiilborilica of Lanrasic-r Co<inty, 
nnJ. legai steps were taken for the arrest of the 
Unck>. " Ainc of them werr? at once nrrested. On 
Haturday isoroing, titc rnitcd States Coiomiasioner 
.-md the Uoiltd Suics District Attome^prooeeded le 
LaiiCMter County for the pu ipoa c of investigating 
the affair. Twciily-fiv© arrests w«re made in the 
course of the day. and a large amount of ama was 
caplumd. Tl.srlcen wimc^scs were examined, who 
testified lhat1hef]nngwas.pnDripatly from the blacks. 
On Si'nday. Ihr party of U. S. anthorities returned 
to Fhiiadelf^a, and U n priMiDcrs, found guilty of 
partiririatin in the no), were confined in Moyamcn- 
t<ing prison. Their names arc as {^olWws : Joseph 
f^carlel, (while) W». Brown, Esekiei Thompson, 
Ifihiab Carkfon, Daniel Caulsbciry, ^esjuoin Pcn- 
di>rgra?», Elyah Clai\i, George W. H. BtJOtt, Miller 
Thompson, v-d Samml Haasop. all colored. The 
ihree Iiigl-naiiU'J, wire placed in the dehtore' de- 
pariniLHi, a^fl 'hr ollifns m the criminar dcpart- 
nif'Bt Ol,^priH0B, lo await their trial on llie charge 
(^^ trcawif and lei)ing war again*! the Uailcd 

The mwniiiiofi was resumed before United 
Stales CcaaiisKioner Infrabam, at Phiiad^phia, on 
Munda)- las. A number of pdditiooaj arreettf were 
made, had Hmry Green, "Williaia VilUnos, John 
UaUida}', Wj^j. BroMT, Geo. Read, John Jackaon, 
I'hoa. huilM, and Benjamin Jdaaan, were fully 

IIopcv are '-nil rtuidcd of ihe |re&o\'CTy of jotUf 

Ob Mund^, a proeloiaation iras issued by Gov. 
Johnston, aAring a rewaid of ' $1000, for the ureal 
of tfar palV partief. The proclamation ia jtioi^ly 
c^pifMBire of iho encreetic chanctar«^ lh« £xccu- 

proUHtg hia stav 'n ihai wnuriag inceandl thcSCi iost- 
S'orbmg baa IrKiiapirviJ rriimii^t to flC Interview *»"Wtca 
him and ihe King of Prwaaik: 


Maoris, Aug. S9.— Tha prtaeiptf topic o«' the provin- 
cial joomals ia still tba aaneos cAets prednead by the 
long drought and oitraordinsry kiai. At Madnd we 
have 110^ been fo«ir tooniha withoV rain. The country 
in burnt Dp, aiid lirea, eKtcitdnig s sooae eaae^ over 
■oaoy !c«inife, axe no dtwbi ihf reaill of ibis eiato o( 
ihinr^. Great Brari-iiy jl" wm,-; wa ("^1: ai Stra;o«a, 
and ihron^tcDUl Aragofi, ••14 tbe tiioat r>t;armii mca- 
saro* hud be«n dc-rcH bs ttw amCiriiies lo p r a ucr vc a 
MBppb for (he mofit rndtspenaable tgrpUM*. 

A Cijon letter of tho tMi «y« {■« five leagoBK jf the 
railvny there would sbortly be ofmlta pBMtcirafllc.aad 
spesks of tbe great oaiitml diReabta overe«ipe in cotT- 
Bfruning it. _ 

Cox^T.•.^-TJ^■opLE, Auv I& — The liheralion 
led — -- 
In spne of cU the ibitats 

pone mood her (Eruiind, and wbea pin^aded by the £n- 
cbsh (:oT^iiiiieiil of its piomow. iMDi^-an replied, " Wc 
keep it." Kofimth is. Iberefcre lo ba releaaed on tbe 
13lh ^plember. Hia mtenion. BS'br as I eooid aseer- 
tatn, is lo proceed ItrFl to Engldialto leave iticni tats 
children, !iikI to prttvide fiv their ifacauon, and aller a 
stay of a fiinnidhl, to MBil toibe If^ed Stares, thereto 
exprem hl<i tliDnka to Ibe ( ongresaand the Prwident. — 
Cuiibe Caplamof the itr«m irigsa Miuioaippi. which 
baa wailed for Kostiutb amcc ilie stnth oi'JniK, otijeris 
to this arrangcmniT ; be wiantH tacarr) KaiiJfan WI4J)- 
out delay to New-York 1 du |s( know, therefore, 
whether >od will hj*e tbe pleaeur^vr seeing the mlgbiy 
raan— who. e>e& wiicu in prtaoii in \m« Miner, A-igbt- 
tvn the and ihp Kaiaor—MfiMi l>«a«mber. 

Thediamisnai uf tbe aersakict, Mehem^i All Ptuths, 
mBde here, lor a mMneat a palnfiJ topreaaion, fbr e^erv- 
body knew ibal be, (be tewner-la-IVk o Ibe Sajlan, was 
the greatest enemy lo Ruaaia In ikHcelntieL But it Hoon 
t-ocameobiiu'isUiul lUs sHf taadwpahiicsi imporiaace 
Mbaiever. _ ^ 


LisBOK, Aug. T29 — Public iltnBlMni is chiefly 
directed towards tke accusatwa tf b r tb aiy pirt^rred 
sgainst Senhor Ferrao, whiA ceev^led him lo retire 
(rr<m ibe Mlniairy . The nrrnsHisaln of ao aenoQii and 
grave a nature that tbe Min istr y hal a meetiag upon (be 
aobjcct (5^Dhor Kerrao nu baviag ke«a present at it|, 
when, li IS xaid, it va!<i determined that be ahould be in- 
vited to reeigYi and cairj iha acrwation bi4brc the tri- 
bunals, be bfinR ecvuacd of harlitf reemved (eoin ibe 
contract of tooaccu 2,(Kl9#iO rtia This Seabor Ferrao 
Las done. 

Tbe beat and ihe drooffbt this jHSt Is without «KsrR- 
ple. AccouBiB from tbe eonniry asf ibs snail riveraaro 
dh-ing op. 

Itie Fotts of Ceai-B in )be ftnnfli are demand Infect- 
la with the yellow Ifevcr, and ibaae of M«b«co with 

The Government has advartiaed Ar proposala to eom- 
p'eie Che roads and forra new oam a iba Hiabo. The 
lomiT ,-oniractoni, eoncelvlu itaaMhacemeat Dl,iheir 
rigtua, provcht SJ^airiKt it, aal aaf -be]*- ^alt have pe- 
Cbvrac tv the tribunal*. There isloba a aewTohd &oi« 
Opovie 10 Braga, and ano(ber (Hv^Opofto 10 Gutnta- 

It a(ipear« that several 90Mn sflhc lltb, « Vuea, 
endeavored to make tbair eaeapa,biii wara prcveuled 
andjtitfeiKn armt. AfnandoAbr la Mqilleated ia 
lb*: attempted inmrreertod. 

Another senoit^ conspicaey, ihatwas ta have broken 
out at v<7eu, and bad cxteaaln rastteatlBaa, hfa fiaea 
rendered sbcrtl;c 

Tt- e)e.-!!o-f 5f t!i? e tegl ara! CltariS=«wa Si ift tUv 
grosa in favor of GovcmaisBt and SaiMnlHuNas. 


Tlie trca-'^urer 0/ tfae haai corfioatKm school 
of Bremen, wjio IjcU tarfc auM af nsnay in tmai (br 
(bit edtabliahmeat, aa well as ferscber iawlbaJitui, baa 
hSCt) arrexted, charged with enibaMag"^wBrda of IID,- 
.009 thalat*. The arreat «f tbia aaa, wheae Baine la 
U»»4*: who waa an aldenMa arib taty, aaii a moM ee- 
tC^feod member of tbe •BvparailaMressa* fane a aenaa- 


Aro S9 —The aah of ta^Orf wd attifiety 
heroes has suddenly boan at a|wad,«ad new Mrrtiasus 
are lo be made by order of tta HUii« af War. Wc are 

told that Ibc liih; m n rf a m arnooff waatn ceaaaaaoaoe 
of sorac poaslMc evealnatty to F r m e. Biit the Munich 
correapondeni of a HmaaBls paper, wbo is ^iparaaUy 
well tstbrmed, aaya tbe miUla.-y I — 1 imsala bia BDthin{ 
morettan the ordinary garrtaea aUnfee, ceoSMnenl 
■pon Ibe rnaanuvrrs whieb Uke phae la Ibe a^nmn of 
every yftsr. 


The Frankfort Diet has taken iu firal resolu- 
tion, a»» a ne Ait^«lmrgk O^settt, h vtmaneiai alTalrs. 
h has adopfefl a» the basis of dcBfeaiMiM is theae mat- 
ters, (he n-Foli]t|'>n-< of Ihe Dfeadaa raaHiiaua'^. The 
Jug.'lfurg GuziUt Kays ibt Uic fti« bM Mate called 
apeeial men logeibi-r, tsjtveii sfKial tnlbmiMuin on 
the SDbjecl. 

TTie «*«nf jtmnial ailtana ibat lb* »»•— ■ ^— -—'■ >-■ 
the fbrwial rotuiluiiar., thai tt ha« nalt 
cfmimoH pTinrlfde on wUcbSo a«i >■' 
stilKUouB 4f tho divers sMi*. ■ 


The proviiiciiJ diets an; bcpuniiig to Tuoel. 
That of hrandeiibiirg and Laaasia niet «>« ihs }lst ult., 


^T The weather iva« the theme apon whiefa 
VK hinged an Ite -a lor our mMniBgedttioii, bat wc have 
been forced to fbrgo ihs taAtettOB d it upoa tbe faUic, 
by the procaedisp of (bs BoeiOB JWtlsc, which ear epa- 
aial eorre ep opdent has twwvrdad in. Never mtnd, tbe 
Prealdeni e«ntm always b« liooistag ibroagb the coaa- 
try, and as aouo as he rctiims bona, we shall endeavor 
to do Una imponani Bubjec( full JiUiae. 

Death 07 aB/ptisT Misaioaar. Weiegretto 
annannec the destt ef Rev. W». T BiAsls, ofihia eliy, 
who departed this life yesterday iMraioe. at tbe honae of 
Itcv. John Itawling, D. D., where ««• w-i* making a (em- 
. porwy home. Lu antieiipadoo of ba ^l.A-^ deputurc ft>r 
hlh flf-M of labor iB BaraiBb, at or Ita- tike eiatu> a. lately 
oceanied b> Rev. Dr Judaon. tko iatBUiceBCe of Mr 
MaSMB^ ilirBi** wiu oe rcce^veu wiiiatfS|^r9^atay a wiAa 
ein:!* «r Mend*, who ware leekin^ hia ftitare career 
viib large hope*, warranted by tbehonor with which be 
acquitted buis^ at Uumlion L'niMaity, wbere be has 
just graduated. He wm inarT;cd U a few weeks buic*, 
and in a few Java wis la bave saitf Tor hialiuarc h<« 
tn bidp. Tlir fchici^aJ e^iciac* ho: Uc Ld- at lli' kJerean 
Bapi^at Cti.rcli, zns. of Iledli>r4aii^wniiig aiTcrn^. and 
were attended by a large and detofy aAeted aadieaae. 
Tbe body i» to be lakco, tbia nffaing, \f* DreefcAeid, 
Cone, (be residonc^ of bia Iktber, fcv. M. Biddle, wbera 
clonag exerciaea will beheld prevas (o mtenBaat. 

t^ TW Boud af ASMUatt AUHrmrA dosed 
(beii itBslii fmr 8ep«eir>ber, lasf'evenlTie. n^r -fteteh 
of tbe proecedlngs is dnven «n by ibr Kivi."! Vew<; 
im wc aft *orsalad by^'tha r^dllwr iWt e<:r rsaders 
wHlliDdaftR rceucd of (kir doln^ ta n.- 'iwiiJag 
Twm, wbtch viu be pu'JIisU^l at J avtorS' ibn -after- 

X:^" The TiKmtam ta W^shmgtoa •*^<ptu.rf ^aCa 

hn (iT«-asdBYompte:ioo witb pio-ler-iie nvei-J. f: :> M he a 
^'CJ7 lane elrc^v baato, wUb a caaual j^ bM nt-««nl 
side >eta. The nravitiaD is mad*, lbs wi.:! ar>-<«d dv 
border of the )>aaiB l*. ^etnv.Aii)f^e|l^ahe.--«rtmAa 
werayeaterday layiag a, tMcomof hard p';^*^. Tba 
foQsixni will be a very ta.i: oaa, aad w ill tacrea .c icrcd- 
-)y (he tftiiaeuoaaf 4«kbaaMm^art- 

Nrv rfiraiaM-i? LiNK^Tho flMmrii Hi^ 

j-teamer, the t!*. Diiru-.i. >ui<i ben placed ob %tt 
East Kiver, to rap l-ctvci-a this etQr i>iid Ftasht*^ 
louehiaf- «t Asisrih-uid.- Stz& E9 Mr Pb** 
mcr, the ^enterprising proprtttaf^dT'DietUIcr Ttll»^. 
The (aae'fia* been redni^ lo ''qie ^jbiltm^, and the' 
boat is to make Iwo trips &«^ •ii»t a day, and ia to 
be a permanenf arrangenKitt.-" Wr *WKh-whh'pleh- 
snre every matt enteipnae ibai %ilt UdBI tbcMeti*-. 
poiis and the qoiei and beoitifBi ntnl didi net* ia A* 
closer Cootaet. _ 

T)batr in k CkCl.-^AI * ^bte '^Mfr M 
Toesday night, policeman Co-tltsr, af TbaT^hitl: 9^t^ 
Distnci, leund an ooknewrn t«maie, and U jf&r^^)(tn£ 
m MadisoD-st , Uboring uoder.tbe efT-cls' c; deieriaa 
iremfttS; and apparcndy ll'dea?' A dray waa \'mxsnr 
and the poor woman wSii coiiveyed to the feKi|0»h:«a^ 
where she Mcnied to. bomewbai revive, -bM' via yat 
mder the Inflnenee ef strong dflnk, and ws« *;o4niiB£ly 
placed to a cell in (be*isale der-art»ieat,''(ii« wa* 
fooad a corps* tn about two hour* sKxt Veairrlay 
■BomiBf tbe Coroner bcM sn laqocM tm tfic r^^tdaias, 
and the jury rendered a vwdiet of "Ocatb iiy as s?e- 
pleerir fit. ' 

Death fbok- Coii^utsKWa. — T^ ■Gowmif'- 
held an Inqoeat yesterday, at the a«ii»-i>* fi(^9Ml, 
Upon Ike body of a- young woman aamad Saimb Cair, 
bom ta New-'york, and ajed 31 yeajs, wboL'f ap- 
^pears, waa sdMited Into the above inflKltntton oa^tbt 
Uth iBst-.ia a It of coavalatoDfl, saji hfi^r Sncarlac a 
ftw boura, di«l fnim tba eflects of the aama. \ vwriiH 
was reidsTw) in accordance with tbe^brvgauig lb-:; a. 

I7*A Koomer CostDme nade its appCL^jaacft 
In SlJrth-avenu* day before yeeMrJaj^. A craird af 
" Conservatives" manifested (hetf-haatil»y to (hie pra- 
>rc«Biva movement by dension: " Now Ideaa'' are coaa- 
palled to wage fterce battle in tbb woiU belbre ttie^ eb 
tain rveognltlon aadfavor. Two Hlaomcra af^earcdfa 
Sraadwsy andf^ro in Washington afpan yaaMfday. 

GT" It has beeir stated that SaMtmr Dooglna 
was too illja fulfil hia engagement, to d^llMy the' 
oimtion at tha Sute Fair. We understrnd thai ha 
has so far recirraed from his indiapDsitioh Atf ~ha 
IcEt for Rficheatcr last eveninf. 

Fal«b Alabh. — The HaD hell^rsng as «Rqp 
at t e'doek last areniflig for the Sixth rnetrtct, M att 
iuak gythcnr Ukd to diaeover (be first spark et uth, 

ArothkB.— About S o'clock there wasan siamin t^ 
Jr^d ZHatnet^bW tbe flr« waa not visible. 

'WoMAjf PoiaowEn. — CoroLer Gcer wa^ ealM 
yesttfday to baU an inqusst ea the body ef a macriai 
womsB by the urns of Mra. EUra Itnecht. lying deSCW 
ber late reaidcBCa, No. JM Beventh-eiTW t_ A jvy «■» 



G<^' ioBvrtoy bos replied, in the following excel- 
lent letKT.lo • memorial addressed to him by a niina- 
W oLoitiaensof Peonsyhaiua, reiqaenting htm, as 
the Chi<i' E^arutivc, to " vindicate the laws snd tip- 
hold the clifiHtT " of the Commonwc^th. The com- 
mon-*en-r> view- of the subject which cbaracteriaca 
thii<pnduotiaawilicommertdit to the candid reader. 
lit Iter /Vera Gov- /otastsn. 

PlilL.anEi.rtUA, Sept. U, 1891- 
To Uart. /#*« Ca-htaBadtT, A. /. Roitm/ort, Jtik. 

■ Pagt. «Hd ilkfrr ; 

T:f:KLy%zv : Ydnr letter, witfaoat date, waa thla 
sflenMeu ont into my bands by one of the servants of 
Ihi' bauL The boui'!) which you mimftrpt to nuintain 
the lavs o< the l^'iid aiid ili<- public pi:Bee|4» fkdty ap- 
prei-iaied. and 1 have great pleasure in lofonriuig you 
tbui tMfeiiiantv'nt; -four boon before the recsiptoi'voor 
lcii£r the I'Ttlee impltcated had b'-cn, throogh tlie vigi- 
luBfC and iirklalon of (he loaal aui:.>^ntics, arrested, and 
arr now m pnwm, lualting Ml In^iury into their iiB- 
pntedfOlli. Tee Lh-uict Attorney and .'ihcriff of Lsn- 
ciister Ooi'nty, aiiins in concert wiib fhc .\uorney Gen- 
eral of tb« state, aeserve eapaeial thanks fbr tbetr 
prompt aiMl caergeiic coBdoot- TTiia was all drtno early 
oil SaTuTd-i) BKiniiug, and duly rcpartod 10 ne bviii* 
loral oftlci-r>i. 

ni«ft«i;n»oni l.Avn by the Vniicd Stataa C;ouimia- 
SM-nct, who 8TTi\-CiI ! t a iHter period o%t)ic ffouo^ a 
s iTimed ."jnof -libiih haa arcidintnllv rt^ched nethla 
ai;--.-noeii, nw In the b(.4ief iliai tbe ^ts aa- 
iljontlesh,i^Mndituit-d ihe law, and te a Inrg* «x.iboi 
rrvatadUic serpotratori) of (Iw criiues. I 

TtaCTtielmuid-rcr a chiMii of a.n«i)ftibrtri»B'Staia, 
accowMnicd by a grovs outrage on Ute law* of tbe 
Unlied aniee, in ihe roniatance rf ha proce».t, has been 
commilisd : god yAn mey be BHiund that so aoama the 
piiJiy a|epi<* are asocrtaitf^i "x* wiii be pgnl-hcd Iti 


, _ of Ibe atmc bcnae, wba de- 

poaed thai deeeaaed badbaen marrtad aboai rnne meaOs. 
and thai the baebabd oifly IWed wiib brr tbe bl faar 
weeks after tbey were ttnitod. a'ace which time '*£''^ 
been alMent umB Sunday -aftcneoa !■«, at 4 o4lack,- 
whcnbe called apoe tuit wife and remained wRh her 
dunag Ibe night ; be ih9n atatee that ebe wrt e^daa^ 
with vMeni paine and cfsapa at II o'rtacfc ibsi »S»a^ * 
day) nlcbt. and waa ta ^eat distreaa ; her kartani r«- 
Buined with ber till Taeaday awtning a*d tbsM laR, « 
1 srbich time abs was apparmly bnsed aU bo9M«J^ 
eovery, and eestianed te iabor ander atvMe > PaenW* a ,. 
Dr imptmnelxurttk^iai No.« Avenaefc,w»JneM 

; laAuaaed ibM ate vraa ea tbe ava ef eonaaament, b«t 
anon axanfnatioa, ftnnd tiwi no aytnntaBe eT thai aa- 
tve cxhtktta«- Ihamaslvas, bat diaeevered tb« As 
waa labartag -mder- severe and ropaated esmvlataH, 

I and all elTorle to aate ber Ufe proved of no avalL 
ad ebe died at &| o'clock ao Tuesday evcnlBK. I 

tbua aiade a port-morfm uaounatHM and fimM th^ 
eiomaeb In a bi^ noxr oT ii-ll^msuitioL, and allb— 
ir'^rtal on^ns'eihi'jttiog Bignw of poiBou, Tbie i ' 


geDUetnan then cloaed Of* lectuaory, oy sajtnfi 
ii^ai il waa dia opinion, that deecaacif entue to ber death 
by taking sofDC c«rroaive pmeoo in a fuid stale, and 
ibne being no fonber e^-ldcace adduced, tbe jury rmt-> 
dercd a verdict, " That the deceased-came m ber Baaa 

—^ by the admuuBiratioD oi- bMW caDOaive powon^grcm Ift 

EmuTIOll or THKTWO CtSiWWKKD McROtR- ber by some permw. W Iliis jory antnown." The d»- 

ceased waa a native of Germanv, twenty-nii%B raata of 
I sgr, and had eoe lived a month longer, ahi' would bav* 
j uadoabtrdly been Ihe motbT of an olKpnnj;, Aa the 
caae now Kiaada, a strong auapioon rcatu aiivn tbe b^ 
I band of deceased, ami we tru.M our worthy cv>ronar-^D. 
{ cause a diiiperu seartb lo b: made liir him or aay eoK^- 
I pervon who any bs suspected f ^tkag in any way e4»- 
j neetsd wttb tbe horrible amiir. 

saa.— Belweto the botira of IC aidll o'clock te-mr>rTOw 
Bioroing, Aaron Stookiy and iftnut CariuU. the Frencta- 
mau, are toaodcrss (!m penalty a^aiA, (or <he nrurdcT 
of two fenow beings. Yaaterday tetnaon, each culprit 
seemed grcetly troubled in mmd, ind tbey sppeared 10 
dread iLe swCoI (kte tbai awaiia Uan. The gallowawdl 
be creeled le tbe City Pnsoa yaid ihis ademoeti, by di- 
reciion of Sheriff Camley, who, weuderatand, will hang 
tbe colpma einmltaieonriy. TbMvideor« of giuft was 
dearly proved agautal ibeae mokren, at tbe time of 
tbev trialf. and. If any, very bri* coaXoB^iona wiii be 
made respecting iheir perpetratiagtbe bof.'\Mo deeds far 

I Accident to an OMHiBrs-Daiviii — Vester- 

I day morning the driver of a Broailw«y omnibw, Dams^ 

I John Asbbary. was tievereJy injured by lUbng fV«n tt* 

I tcp of bis vehicle aiid eirfUng bis hehd U|Wb a ew^ 

I nlone, tanaing a dangerous fraaure of the aku^l and atb- 

... ^ ^ r-r - — .' er ittnoua iniunea to his limbo. He wsaexutveyod ka 

which they are :< sniffer ihc axiieM peaalt* oC the law. ' the S. V, Hoapitsl, by a ciUxen, and placed andar the 

' ears sf a skiUuii sgrgaon. 

ly The Boferd of >(QpcrviK)rs met yesterday, ] 
Mr. DsfcAitATEli, ofthe KVItb Vsrd, la tbe Cbair — ! 
Et^en mcmbf re were present, ta* ookber (be .Mayor 
nor the Recorder. The mmntaaeNhefesiBBeaetngwtre I 
read and approved. Several petilaaa tor tbe c«rrp<-tioa 
of tases were referred, but no oib« bssiness transacted. 
Tbo Board BAjo«mi>d to Wcdu'-iMliy uCAt. 

FiBK ;k Hucson-Strket.— Al an early hour 
on Tuesday evenmg, a fire was discovered ia tbe upper 
part of a dweUtoj b-iuse at No IH|l«daoD-«t.,Ovc(^ied 
by SiaartT. Eandolpb, Eaq., ntu* erigieated from (be 
aoot in (he chimney taking Ore, t»d L-furc A caolJ be 
put om, (be chimr>ey j bii<*(, and aM Are to the wf»d 
worit of the attic roonM. Uc-* Con^Mny P)o. 21 aad 
otber cnmpasiea of the £re depanneal, wm promptly 
on the ground, but befbre (hey coBld aneat the pr-^ess 
of lbs daftiwrl^ building waa iiundated witb wdier, 
which damated the lurnitura ab^ $9M. | 

FiBB IN SPRlNC-STUHiT. *.t half-pMt 12 o'- j 

clock yesterday aflerooon, a Arc vaa diacevsveJ In iQe I 
Cabinet abap of Mr. Ceorgs Ba}<, at No. ]5t Spriog- 
Btrect, whlcb origmatcd ftnm a vanilty of aparka that 
were blown from an a4joiniag Urkamnb's 4fe»p. The 
firemen were promptly on (be jrrotmd and the ire 
was speedily extinguiabad, beforeeny , material damage 
was bastei&cd. 

itrN OTEi BY AN IcE Cabx — Yestcntay after- 
noon, abom 4 o'clock, a ^yoniif Bian by (be name of 
George Poller vav (brown tTom S) lee cart. In Spriag- 
wi,, the wbeela ofwtilcb' passed »ver his body and ite- 
vcnly Injnrod bim. Capl. Toridall. of tbe Bifa patrot 
disinci, had (he injaredataa coawyed to1lksI4. V. Uos- 
phal, where be received medical dd. 

Bistukbance betwekn Btval Blacksiutus 
—per eome wteks part, a (roling of jealousy has existed 
between a somber of «0(tm» nnployed lu tbe amlth 
sht^ of McssTT. Marshdl * Towwe nd. Stage Prt^irietirrB 
and oUien in (he en^toy et iba ab-Bveaue Imuibfu tine, 
whom the former panlea cbargsl with waylaying tlieni 
in the nigbt tune tor ne good )Ai(peee. On Tuesday 
Bigb.t several of these nval meetemee met at tbe comer 
orTib-av.|BBdSSd-Bi , i«4 acgrr woida paaeed, which, 
no doubt would -have reaaned ia a deepcrate and fbar- 
ful eoitCtct, had not a poaae ef (be 14(^ ward Ptriicg 
nech^ Ihe ■eene of diaturbaaee. o a Aw aunntr« after 
the gaa£9 bad sEaenhM. Three of tbe w»klDen (e;n- 
ployed by Heaars. U. * T.Jtumel JAn Greaa, Bematd 
Haiy, and Jobn Davie, BadejEowfaiiita ageinal seven of 
tAeir upponvnta, by tts a^nsai f Bwiiiid Matibewa, 
Henry HalUiy, Martin Kebaaf IkrlA McCenn, John 
Maib9we,ll3gb MatibewB, and Anda badanck, all ef 
whom were immedisi^ ari asi ai l ceawnd belbre ia» 
uce Bl^cly, and coDimMSed ta fnaoa n^sa ebargee of 
aocatuta w-nli intenl to UO. Tbe btter irlawr was ^na- 
ed with two large knivse, and a toadl: wespaa, known 
as a " alBBg abot," and be arns icoordinriv egmnbue 
liff "ftloay." 

STBAHcav. — Tlie Jf«n«N, C«pt. Bbbbt, ar- 
rived tnm Charteatna, yealerday namtcg. Sks has ex- 
pBTteneed faeavy Dortbaaadarty gaiv dirting tbs paasa^, 
and canauciw! all ber Itael whan ftirtccn dsya from tba 
Ddaware Breakwater, at which phee sbe was obliged to 
put in for E supply. Tbe Jlferiaa bfia#i t3p,000 tn Bpaoe. 

The A/otawic, Csft. LcOT-ow-.l-am Sa>-innah, arrived 
oq Tuesday oveninif 

Tbe Wenfffid ScoU, Capt. Loi'LIiild, esiW fot New 
Orleans aLl o'eioek yeei«dhy aftarnoaa. 

'■Thu' GoHL." — Si A vest r!' unrod at'this 
port en Teesday, bnnniug aa aMitMlea < H (IW to^ar 

Ship Rajab. from Livt^patl . . 17 

Ship jyuchei» dOrlcaaa. frviA Ilswrv 3/0 

Ship Pliilaueh'bii', (Vom Ltvcrpoot 5** 

BsiU Jayin. m«n Bmnen 184 

Bulk S-oiland, fronr RanrpoA, Walaa " M 

Bng l.ulaa, t>oo) Gotldabiirg . .. ~ S3 

Total 1^ 

t2^ The poefcrt-diip vf wrntwi CV'j>->re9«, sail- 
ed ttam fbb pott, for Loudon, ypticrday. She took out 
#100,000 in specie. 

A Sad aM* Fatal Accidkft— Ab<(«H 4 
o'cl'rck ycalerda> ladrnmg, a brick layer named Patrtek 
lieJligan, ramdtng st Nu. £7Weat 17ih-aL,mcl wttb a 
aad and fatal accident, while at work opoo tbe towrtll 
alory trfa new brieb hnUiiing, m (be course of er«etlaa 
in 14ih-8i. near the 6*o-av. H appears thai the unfbRV- 
oaic man was encsged in plai-jng a row of bneka on t4)B 
outiside wall, and in coD.-<«|uence of luissing his (ootiat. 
he was prceq>iive£ to the £rouad anH ianr.tly kfflat.-^ 
His body was removed to the residence nf bis f^ml^ta 
await a coroner's laqtiC Bi- 

.\biikst or A-v Escaped Pbisoser.— On llw 
29ihof July law, a manbv the name ofWdli.i.'n tnailt 
made hia encape from a c*il in Ibe City Pri«m, wbere be 
wM confined upon a charge of Grand Lwceay. tn stesl- 
ing a gold watcb and strveral nhaina froln a te%^^clrf store 
at No. 4 Maiden-itujc, for wii-cb he wa3 aubtciLueoity in- 
dicted. Noibing TV^i beerO^or the accHMrd uniil yeMcr* 
Jay, when a lele^raphic diBraSak was received tt'un Ibe 
( Chief of Polioe at New-OrlcaiM, La., by Mr. W'dluun 
Edmomts, tbe cfiirieni Keerer of ;be Prison in Center. 
t St., which conveyed the intAiUgmce of Clark's arfiisi in 
I thai City. Mr. Edmondit immcdialely tel<:graf bed to tbe 
' atnheriiiea of New-Orieans, requertiitg tbcm to detain 
Clark in robtody, until euch tune as a reqositios conM 
be obtained trom Governor fiimt and forwarded to ijwm 
by out of (nr Piklice oflcera. wbo vriQ tiring him back to 
Ibis City. 

CoOKT CaLEkdaB. — Thuradtti/. — V. S- Ci»- 
cBiT Cocbt— Noa '- leto 36. Ctacuir Covrt— Naa. 
in, 57B, &63 (0 58S, teS lo 5P1, 350, 403. 2», 'jK. Coit- 
MOs Pleas— Kos-ia, UC, W3, 575, 5ffl. S», »4. 5*.- 
fiOI, 603, «(», 611,089, £40. 

Bbjcaqe I?JsprrTi:>v *nd Hevirw- — The an- 
nual parade and review ofthe Fifth Brigade. Gen. H. B. 
Puryea, comprisiBg the tUineenih regiment, -Cd. 
Abel Smiih. and fburuenib rvsinwot, Col. Philip S. 
Crook, located in Kli^p County , will taks placa at Brort- 
lyn OB Monday, 'be 99tb inst. The sr dlery and cavalry. 
will parade on the east side of Henry-ai, right on Pine- 
api^e-st. , tbe tnbntry er(be 13tb refimeni on Oraofe- 
at., nght on Hlcks^. -, the ia!bairy ofrhe I4(h refiaeai 
on Cranbcrry-Bl., nght on Ificks-«- The rrgunnntawftl 
be loimed at Si o'clock, A. M.. pn«'isrtj ; acd punctnali^ 
will be strictly required, so that the mar^h may b# taken 
iq> at the hour of o'dcck, A. M., preri'fh Major Gen- 
eral Aaron W'ard and muff will be pre«"«i.i >■ this par- 
ade. The light aittllery eompanles of C-aflAia Olnar, 
i Broukly n t.iiy Gaard,) Graham. (Ringgold Uerw Guard,) 
and Taft, (Wiiliameburg Artillery,} nil! f-^ade with 
ibMrBattorica. Capt. 'N«ly*i Dragoona (Waabiagten 
norse Griard) silll act aa an encon to the DrigadierGei- 
eral. Tbe cisnpanlea of Capt. John 'WilUa aad Ucnrf 
Willss WiU do dsty aa Light lafkntry and foot Rifles. t4 
addilioB to (he ccrapsBlea above namad, there are ay 
tscbcd to (bis brigade ihe Picrson Light Guard, C«pt. K. 
B. Clark ; Putnm CentlMwab, Capt. J. H. Mergan-. 
Washington Lite Guard, Capt, £harpe ; 1st, Conrin^ 
wis, Capl. B. F. HoajUiid ; Ist J&vafleld Guard. Calf. 

, Sd Suvdetd Goard, Cspt. ; Union Blaca, 

Cap.^BnrTiett; Kntlon'al Guard, Capt, Spragac ; Trank- 
Un Gutfd, Capt. Batdwin ; Stevben Guard, Capt, Sctht- 
for : £mvet Guard, Capt. Dodge ; Shialds Guard, CMfF. 
Smith : Kings County Tro«^, Capt. Soydam , and ai«s 
three or four colnpanieefrom WmiBrosburgh. It is an 
tlcipated ifaat OOk will >« the finest parade eves wit- 
nf*aed in nrooklyn, and preparsCtsBS «r* Taakiag ta give 
much tilAt to the occasion. Tbls «a^ ta be the beet 
dlac^ilihed bticade in the (ii^tc- 

P««FJlElHCroEM*JMW— ^KirlM' IHlLtS-— 
Onr gallant mUltia men an bruBhiag «p right saaitir 
for trainurg. We aes that oidera have beta iaaned )# 
j tbo ofih-ei- and non-commiaaioned oiHcer^ ol the Mb 
' Brigade to aeaerribfe In Faiigno dr«ea, white irowaers, 
{ armed and cquij^xil for Battalion drill anu praciie*, at' 
j I'M Ciiy Armorr, in Henry-street, so yaaierday, i»e 
] ITtli inM , ncd Wedcthdiiy, (he 94th mat., Jt » oelack, 
I A.M.. on foot. Ceo. Easca, the worthy DMikl A(- 
' urney of flings couniy, ta the commander of Ihi'* 

I Brigade. 

i LoMO iBiAim Ve etables.— The Stat 'A 
' Long Island is some on toroaaea. 'Wa'w-*™ Bhewn -be 
I tther day, a tcmalo rei^ ti '•'y Mr. Pried«i-ii 
I Bempstead, ona of mose vcoeUhiM vr;- 
! inches an>nn>; 
T^'heeanlK-; .. 

L Rowland o' 

v.eigheu '. 

Facsimile oftJieMrstNu/nbej^ oftheJVewy^r^ Times. SeptM^165h (Orve. holf^iht On(j^i7ialSt\e.J 


aud is now the chief proprietor of that paper. Mr. Weed 
revealed his purpose to Mr. Jones without reserve ; declared 
his determination to retire from editorial life, and expressed an 
earnest desire that Raymond and Jones should assume the con- 
trol of the Evening Journal. A letter from Mr. Jones apprised 
Mr. Raymond of this proposition ; and the latter immediately 
went to Albany to consult with Jones and Weed. The nego- 
tiation fell through, in consequence of the refusal of one of 
Mr. Weed's partners (William White) to sell his own inter- 
est in the paper. Another partner, Andrew White, was will- 
ing to sell ; but his own desire and that of Mr. Weed were 
alike unavailing. William White remained inexorable, and 
after long parley, the Journal was left as before, and Raymond 
returned to New York to resume his duties in the office of the 
Courier and Enquirer. 

But this was not to be the end. The joroject of establishing 
a new Whig paper in New York was soon broached in a cor- 
respondence between Jones and Raymond, and out of innu- 
merable letters on this subject gradually grew the plan of 
starting the Times. In 1849, the year after the fruitless ne- 
gotiation at Albany, Raymond took his seat in the Legislature 
for the first time, and the inchoate newspaper plan became the 
topic of frequent conversations with his future partner. Still 
another year passed, but no definite result was reached. At 
the beginning of 1850, however, Raymond had again been 
elected to the State Assembly, and the choice for the Speaker- 
ship had fallen upon him. Events were at last hurrying to a 
conclusion ; and a walk upon the ice of the Hudson River was 
destined to be the turning-point of Raymond's career. 

The winter of 1850-51 was severe. The Hudson was com- 
pletely frozen over at Albany, and the only method of access 
to the railroad station, on the opposite shore, was by the natural 
bridge of ice. Mr. Raymond's father was on his way to Al- 
bany, on one of the sharpest days of the winter, and the young 
Speaker, going to meet the incoming train at Greenbush, 
stopped at Jones' banking-house to solicit the favor of his 
company. They set out together to cross the river ; aud when 
half way over, Mr. Jones casually observed that he had beard 


" the Tribune had made a profit of sixty thousand dollars the 
past year. " This remark at once revived the topic which had 
already been the burden of long correspondence between the 
two friends ; and the question of newspaper enterprises, and 
risks, and rewards, was again discussed with animation. The 
information concerning the Tribune seems to have been regard- 
ed With a feeling akin to awe, — for a clear profit of sixty 
thousand dollars for a single newspaper in one year was con- 
sidered an immense success nineteen years ago. In these later 
days it is not an occurrence so unusual that the announce 
ment takes one's breath away. 

After further conversation, Mr. Raymond expressed his de 
cided conviction that a new paper could be started in New 
York, which would make as much money as the Tribune; and, 
declaring his willingness to share the risks of such an enter- 
prise, urged Mr. Jones to revive the project which had already 
given rise to negotiation and correspondence. 

Mr. Jones hesitated, but explained that his own business as 
a banker was at that time prosperous, and was likely to con- 
tinue so, unless the Legislature should pass an act then pend- 
ing, the practical operation of which would inflict serious loss 
upon all the bankers in the State. This act provided for a 
reduction of the rate of redemption of country money ; an.d, in 
common with those who then conducted the basking business 
under the Free Banking Law of the State, Mr. Jones was natu- 
rally apprehensive of its damaging efiiect. 

Mr. Raymond replied, laughing, that he should himself make 
a strong effort to procure the passage of the objectionable act, 
having now a strong personal motive ; but added, more gravely, 
an expression of his opinion that it would be passed. He was 
right. The act became a law ; audits effect justified the appre- 
hension. The bankers began to close up a business which, had 
become perilous instead of profitable ; and among the earliest to 
retire were Mr. Jones and his partner, Mr. E. B. Wesley. 

At this moment the Times became, in fact, an established 
institution, for the money and the men were ready. Before 
the session of the Legislature was broken up that winter, through 
causes described in the preceding chapter, the plan of the 


forthcoming daily journal had been substantially agreed upon. 
Kaymond's health had failed ; he was to go to Europe for the 
summer, and to return in the fall to assume the editorship. 
Jones was to remain at home, to prepare the details of the 
organization. Seven gentlemen contributed the capital ; and 
all were confident of the ultimate success of the venture. 

The nominal capital of the hundred thousand dol- 
lars ; but all this sum was not required at the start. The sub- 
scribers to the stock, and the proportions held by each, were 
as follows : — 

Henry J. Uayraond, 20 shares. 

George Jones, 25 " 

E. B. Wesley, 25 " 

J. B. Plumb, Albany 6 " 

Daniel B. St. John, Albany, ..... 5 " 

, Francis B. Buggies, Albany, 6 " 

E. B. Morgan, Aurora 2 " 

Christopher Morgan, Auburn 2 " 

Total number of owners, 8 

Total number of shares, first subscription, ... 89 

Mr. Kaymond selected for the new paper the name of The 
New York Daily Times; and the name of the business firm was 
Raymond, Jones & Co. It was unanimously agreed that Mr. 
Jones should become the publisher and the responsible financial 
manager. It is due to Mr. Jones, and to the gentlemen who 
were associated with him at the outset, to record the fact that 
the twenty shares of stock assigned to Mr. Raymond were pre- 
sented to him, all paid up. This was a practical and gener- 
ous recognition of Raymond's abilities and of the value of his 

The preliminaries having been thus satisfactorily adjusted, 
the formal announcement of the forthcoming sheet was the 
next step in order. Then came a tempest. 

The first intimation of the intended appearance of a rival to 
the Tribune and the Herald produced a flutter in the offices of 
those journals.* The flutter increased to a tremor ; the tremor 

* It was characteristic of the management of the Tribune that as soon as 
Mr. Kaymond made public announcement of his Intention to start the Times, 


to a spasm. Efforts were made in insidious ways to create a 
prejudice against Raymond. He was an Abolitionist ; he was a 
Radical ; he was a man reckless of constitutions, of laws, and 
of the public good ; he was a tool for the furtherance of party 
schemes. All this, and more, found expression in the news- 
papers, in letters from correspondents, in political clubs, and 
in the current gossip of the day. But the subject of this ani- 
madyersion was all the time enjoying a quiet rest, three thou- 
sand miles away, recruiting, among the scenes of the Old 
World, the wasted health which needed thorough restoration 
before he could turn to give battle. The whole summer of 
1851 he gave to this work of recuperation ; but for the whole 
of the same summer he and his newspaper were, at intervals, 
the subjects of the town talk and of curious speculation. 

The Times, therefore, was very well advertised without 
much expenditure of money ; but when Ra3Tnoud returned in 
August, and called about him the assistants who had been en- 
gaged in the service of the Tirnes* the time had arrived to 
offer the challenge and begin the fight. In an earlier chapter 
of this volume, certain reasons have been given, to account for 
the immediate and continued success of the Times. The 
harvest was ready. The tares had long grown together ^dth 
the wheat in New York journalism, and the day for the reap- 
ing had come. The Tribune and the Herald were to lose, and 

a bitter feeling found official expression in the following entry upon the car- 
riers' book : — 


" A new daily paper is to be issued in a few days, and any carrier of the 
Tribune who interests himself in said paper, in getting up routes, etc., preju- 
dicial to the interests of the Tribune, will forfeit his right of property in the 
Tribune route. We give this notice now, that all who do so may kuow that 
they do it at the peril of losing their route on the THbune." 

This was not exactly fraternal, but it was the Tribune's way. Of course 
the mandate fell flat, for the carriers did help the Times, and, moreover, 
presently carried more copies of the Times than of the Tribune, and continue 
to do so to this day. Nor was this all ; for Raymond's banner, unknown to 
himself, became the standard of revolt iu the Tribune ranks. Three editors, 
a dozen good printers, the assistant foreman of the composing-room, and the 
assistant foreman of the press-room of the Tribune establishment resigned 
their positions to accept better places under Raymond. 

* But who had kept their own counsel for six months. 


the Times was to gain ; for thousands of newspaper readers in 
New York had been for, years prepared to welcome a journal 
which should be pure in tone, reasonable in price, and prompt 
in the collection of news. These conditions Raymond sought 
to fulfil ; and he succeeded. 

Printer's ink was freely impressed into the service of the 
Times, in the months of August and September ; and the sub- 
joined Prospectus, which had already been largely circulated 
through various channels, was advertised simultaneously in all 
the leading journals of the city — none of which journals, it 
might be added, gave it gratuitous publicity : — 





" On Tuesday, the 16th otSepteraber next,* the subscribers will commence 
the publication, in the city of New York, of a Daily Morning and Evening 
Newspaper, to be called The New Yorlc Daily Times, printed upon a folio 
sheet of twenty-four columns, and sold at one cknt per copy, served in the 
cities of New York, Brooklyn, and Williamsburgh, at six and a quarter 
CENTS per week; sold by agents in all the principal cities of the United 
States, and mailed to subscribers iu the country at four dollars per annum. 
The Times will present, daily : — 

" The news of the day, in all departments and from all quarters, special 
attention being given to reports of legal, criminal, commercial, and financial 
transactions in the city of New York, to political and personal movements in 
all parts of the United States, and to the early publication of reliable intelli- 
gence from both continents. 

"Correspondence from all parts of Europe, from California, Mexico, and 
South America, and from all sections of the United States, written expressly 
for the Times by intelligent gentlemen, permanently enlisted iu its support : — 

"Full reports of Congressional and Legislative proceedings; of public meet- 
ings, political and religious; transactions of agricultural, scientific, and me- 
chanical associations; and generally of whatever may have interest or 
importance for any coflsiderable portion of the community: — 

"Literary reviews and intelligence, prepared by competent persons, and 
giving a clear, impartial, and satisfactory view of the current literature of the 
day: — 

" Criticisms of music, the drama, painting, and of whatever in any depart- 
ment of art may merit or engage attention : — 

"Editorial articles upon everything of interest or importance that may oc- 
cur in any department,— political, social, religious, literary, scientific, or per- 

* The day .of actual publication was the 18th of September. 


sonal, written with all the abilitj', care, and knowledge which the abundant 
means at the disposal of the subscribers will enable them to command. 

"For the principles which the Times will advocate, and for the manner in 
which it will discuss them, the subscribers would refer to its columns, rather 
than to any preliminary professions which they might make. It Is sufficient 
to say tliat, as it is not established for the advancement of any party, sect, or 
person, — it will discuss all questions of Interest and importance, political, 
social, and religious, to which the stirring events of the time may give rise. 
It will canvass freely the character and pretensions of public men, the merits 
and demerits of all administrations of government, national. State, and mu- 
nicipal, and the worth of all institutions, principles, habits, and professions. 
It will be under the editorial management and control of Henry J. Ray- 
mond ; and while it will maintain firmly and zealously those principles which 
he may deem essential to the public good, and which are held by the great 
Whig party of the United States more nearly than by any other political or- 
ganization, its columns will be free from bigoted devotion to narrow in- 
terests, and will be open, within necessary limitations, to communications 
upon every subject of public importance. 

" In its political and social discussions, the Times will seek to be coxsbrv- 
ATivB, in such a way as shall best promote needful reform. It will endeavor 
to perpetuate the good, and to avoid the evil, which the past has developed. 
While it will strive to check all rash innovation, and to defeat all schemes 
for destroying established and beneficent Institutions, its best sympathies and 
co-operation will be given to every just eff'ort to reform society, to infase 
higher elements of well-being into our political and social organizations,, and 
to improve the condition and the character of our fellow-men. Its main re- 
liance for all improvement, personal, social, and political, will be upon Chris- 
tianity and Republicanism ; it will seek, therefore, at all times, the advance- 
ment of the one and the preservation of the other. It will inculcate devotion 
to the Union and the Constitution, obedience to law, and a jealous love of 
that personal and civil liberty which constitutions and laws are made to pre- 
serve. While it will assert and exercise the right freely to discuss every 
subject of public interest, it will not countenance any improper interference,, 
on the part of the people of one locality with the institutions, or even the 
prejudices of any other. It will seek to allay, rather than excite, agitation, — 
to extend industry, temperance, and virtue, — to encourage and advance edu- 
cation; to promote economy, concord, and justice in every section of our 
country; to elevate and enlighten public sentiment; and to substitute reason 
for prejudice, a cool and intelligent judgment for passion, in all public action 
and in all discussions of public affairs. 

" The subscribers Intend to make the Times at once the best and the cheapest 
daily family newspaper in the United States. They have abundant means at 
their command, and are disposed to use them for the attainment of that end. 
Tlie degree of success which may attend their efi'orts will be left to the 
public judgment. 

" Voluntary correspondence, communicating news, is respectfully solicited 
from all parts of the world ; all letters, so received, beiug accompanied by 
the writers' real names, if used, will be liberally paid for. 

"Advertisements will be conspicuously published at favorable rates. Ad- 


I;uckw(KKl, I'h>,icc 



Yertisements for servants and others wanting employment, and notices of 
all meetings, political and religious, will be inserted at half the regular price. 
No advertisement will be charged for less than five lines. 

"All payments for subscription or advertising must be matle in advance; 
and postage on all letters must be prepaid. 

" Communications for the editorial department must be addressed to Henry 
J. Eaymond, editor of the New York Times; letters upon business or en- 
closing money, to Eaymond, Jo>'es & Co., publishers. 


will be issued from the same office, and mailed to subscribers on Thursday 
of each week. It will be printed upon a large quarto sheet, and will contain 
tales, poetry, biography, the news of the day, editorials upon all subjects of 
interest, and a variety of interesting and valuable matter. No effort will be 
spared to make it superior, as a family newspaper, to any published hitherto. 
It will be mailed to subscribers in any part of the United States and Europe 
at the following prices : — 

Single copies, $2 per annum. 

Ten copies 15 " 

Twenty copies, 20 " 

" Subscriptions and advertisements, left at the office, No. 118 Nassau Street, 
or sent by mail, are respectfully solicited. 

" New Yonk, August 30, 1851." 

The proprietors of the Times found difficulty in procuring a 
suitable building, iu a central situation, but finally selected the 
brown stone house No. 113 Nassau Street, between Ann and 
Beekman Streets, which was then in process of construction. 
The owner of this building intended it for a store ; but his 
means had suddenly become exhausted, and work upon it had 
nearly ceased, when Eaymond, Jones & Co. made him a favor- 
able offer, and took possession. In great haste, the upper iloprs 
were roughly finished, fonts of type were " laid ; " and one of 
Hoe's steam cylinder presses — purchased at a cost of twenty 
thousand dollars — was set up in the basement of the building, 
with no more than the usual delay; but on the 18th of the 
month the ground floor was still unfit for occupancy. The pub- 
lication office of the Times was opened in temporary quarters 
in a little shop on the opposite side of the street (No. 118), 
whence it was transferred to its proper place after the lapse of 
a few weeks. 


On the night of the 17th of September, the first number of 
the Times was "made up," in open lofts, destitute of windows, 
gas, speaking-tubes, dumb-waiters, and general conveniences. 
All was raw and dismal. The writer remembers sitting by the open 
window at midnight, looking through the dim distanjce at Kay- 
mond's first lieutenant, who was diligently writing "brevier" 
at a rickety table at the end of the barren garret ; his. only 
light a flaring candle, held upright by three nails in a block of 
wood ; at the city editor, and the news-men, and the reporters, 
all eagerly scratching pens over paper, their countenances ' 
lialf-lighted, half-shaded by other guttering, candles; at Eay- 
mond, wi-iting rapidly and calmly, as he always wrote, but 
imder similar disadvantages ; and all the night the soft summery 
air blew where it listed, and sometimes blew out the feeble 
lights ; and grimy little " devils " came down at intervals from 
the printing-room, and cried for " copy ; " and every man in 
the company, from the chief to the police reporter, gave his 
whole mind to the preparation of the initial sheet. The price 
of the paper, which, on the next day, promptly redeemed its 
promise of appearance, was only one cent ; but it contained all 
the news of the day, and it was good, lively, and sensible. 

Mr. Raymond's salutatory address to the readers of the Times 
was a characteristic production, — clearly cut, manly, and 
temperate. We reproduce it here entire : — 


" We publish to-day the first number of the New York Daily Times, and we 
intend to Issue it every morning (Sundays excepted) for an indefinite number 
of yftars to come. 

"We Lave not entered upon the task of establishing a nev? daily paper in 
this city, without due consideration of its difllculties as well as its encourage- 
ments. AVe understand perfectly tliat great capital, great industry, great 
patience are indispensable to its success, and that even with all these, failure 
is not impossible. But we know, also, that within the last five years the 
reading population of this city has nearly doubled, while the number of daily 
newspapers is no greater nove than it was then; that many of those now 
publislied are really class journals, made up for particular classes of readers ; 
that others are objectionable upon grounds of morality; and that no news- 
paper, which was really fit to live, ever yet expired for lack of readers. 

" As a Newspaper, presenting all the news of the day from all parts of the 
world, we intend to make the Times as good as the best of those now issued 


in the city of New York ; and in all the higher utilities of the press, — as a 
public instructor in all departments of action and of thought, we hope to 
make it decidedly superior to existing journals of the same class. Of course, 
all this cannot be done at once ; some little time is necessary to get the ma- 
chinery in easy working order — to arrange for correspondence, to receive 
exchanges for various quarters of the world, and to enable assistants to find 
just the places in which they can work most efficiently. We hope, however, 
at the very outset, to show that we are disposed, and in course of time that 
we are able, to made as good a newspaper in all respects, and in many a much 
better one, than those hitherto offered to the New York public. 

" We have fixed the price of the Times at one cent each copy, or six and a quar- 
ter cents a week, delivered to subscribers. Carriers, of course, make their profit 
upon this ; so that the amount which we receive barely covers the cost of the 
paper upon which it is printed, the deficiency being made up by advertise- 
ments. We have chosen this price, however, deliberately, and for the sake 
of obtaining for the paper a large circulation and corresponding influence. 
That influence shall always be upon the side of Morality, of Industry, of 
Education and Eeligion. We shall seek, in all our discussions and inculca- 
tions, to promote the best interests of the society in which we live — to aid 
the advancement of all beneficent undertakings, and to promote, in every 
way, and to the utmost of our ability, the welfare of our fellow-men. 

" During the past summer, the public press throughout the country has 
speculated and predicted, to a very considerable extent, and in all possible 
ways, upon the character and purposes of this journal. It has been praised 
and denpunced in advance, for principles to which it was supposed to be de- 
voted, and for purposes which it was said to entertain. Some have said it was to 
be an abolitionist paper — a, free-soil paper — devoted to the work of anti- 
slavery agitation — radical in everything, reckless of constitutions, laws, and 
the public good. Others have ascribed its establishment to a design to push 
individual interests or party schemes ; one announces that it is to sustain Mr. 
Webster, another General Scott, and another Mr. Clay for the pjresidency. 
In fact, almost every possible variety of sentiment and of purpose has been 
ascribed to it in one quarter or another. 

" We have not the least fault to find with all this. Some of it proceeded 
from a malicious desire to prejudice the public mind against it, while much 
of it sprung doubtless from that propensity to gossip which governs tea- 
tables and newspapers, and which readers of all classes are suspected of 
not disliking overmuch. None of it is likely in the long run to prove injuri- 
ous;. on the contrary, it has contributed greatly towards making our project 
known, and has stimulated public curiosity concerning it, to a degree which 
our own exertions might have striven for much longer in vain. We are, 
therefore, rather thankful for it than otherwise; while to those numerous 
journals throughout the country, whose love of fair play as well as personal 
kindness has led them to interpose on our behalf, any expression we might 
make would fall far short of the gratitude we feel. 

"Upon all topics, —Political, Social, Moral, and Eeligious, — we intend 
that the paper shall speak for itself; and we only ask that it may be judged 
accordingly. We shall be Conservative, in all cases where we think Conserv- 
atism essential to the public good ; and we shall be Sadioal In everything 


which may seem to us to require radical treatment, and radical reform. We 
do not believe that everything in society is either exactly right, or exactly 
wrong ; what is good we desire to preserve and improve ; what is evil, to ex- 
terminate, or reform. 

" We shall endeavor so to conduct all our discussions of public affairs, as 
to leave no one in doubt as to the principles we espouse, or the measures we ad- 
vocate. And while we design to be decided and explicit in all our positions, 
we shall at the same time seels; to be temperate and measured in all our lau; 
guage. We do not mean to write as if we were in a passion, unless that shall 
really be the case ; and we shall make it a point to get into a passion as rarely 
as possible. There are very few things in this world which it is worth while 
to get angry about ; and they are just the things that anger will not improve. 
In controversies with other journals, with individuals, or with parties, we 
shall engage only when, in our opinion, some important public interest can 
be promoted thereby : — and even then, we shall endeavor to rely more upon 
fair argument than upon misrepresentation or abusive language. 

" We hope to make the Daily Times acceptable to the great mass of our 
people, and shall spare no effort to do so. We have an abundance of means, — 
plenty of able and experienced assistance, and every facility for making at 
once the best and the cheapest newspaper in the United States. We know 
how much easier it is to say this than it is to do it ; but we hope to show, in 
due course of time, that we have not faUed in our promise, or disappointed 
any just expectation. 

" We shall seldom trouble our readers with our personal affairs; but these 
few words, at the outset, seemed to be required." 

The opening declaration in this addi'ess, announcing the in- 
tention of the proprietors of the Times to publish it " for an 
indefinite number of years to come," was like the crack of a 
whip. It sounded dismally to the opposition journals, but it 
pleased the readers of the new paper, for it showed confidence and 
vigor ; and the promise to make the Times a good newspaper, 
as well as a cheap one, was redeemed at the beginning, and has 
ever since been kept. Subscriptions came in rapidly after the 
appearance of the first number, and ^advertisements followed. 
The Times was a success ; and in the new adjustment which 
occurred in the field of New York journalism it was found there 
was room enough for all. It was true that "Raj^mond attracted 
to the Times readers who had become discontented with the 
Tribune and the Herald; but the partisans of Greeley and of 
Bennett still clung to their favorites, for whom the Times was 
apparently unsuited. In short, the display of ill-temper which 
was elicited by the venture of Eaymond, Jones & Co., proved 
to have been wholly unnecessary. 


One of the leading editorial articles in the first number of the 
Times discussed the aflPairs of Cuba. Then, as now, the ques- 
tion of the independence of that island was a topic of the day ; 
and, in view of the passing events of 1869, it is interesting to 
remember what was said by the Times in 1851. The following 
is the material part of the article in question : — 

"Whether it be right or wrong; whether it be in accordance with, or 
agaiast, the principles of international law; whether it be any of their 
business or not, — the Americans xoill always sympathize with any people strug- 
gling, or supposed to he struggling, against oppression. There may be some 
among us who can look coolly upon such contests, and regulate their senti- 
ments concerning them by their intellectual notions of law and national 
duty; but the great mass of the people of the United States, acting solely 
from the impulses of free hearts and quick sympathies, will always sympa- 
thize with, and stand ready to aid, so far as they can, every nation, or col- 
ony, which may desire and endeavor to throw off hurtful and injurious 
restraint, and to secure for themselves the same proud position and the same 
independence of political action which we enjoy. It would be strange, in- 
deed, if it were otherwise, — prizing freedom, as we do, and believing as we 
profess to believe that freedom is the natural right of every people, brought 
into national existence, as we were, under the influence of this belief, and 
through the aid of sympathizing allies, — it would be strange, indeed, if we 
could look with cold indifference upon the efforts of others to throw off unjust 
oppression, and to regulate their political conduct by laws of their own enact- 

Encouraged by their success, the proprietors of the Times 
were prompt to seize every advantage, and the new sheet was 
pushed in all directions. Simultaneously with the appearance 
of its fourth number, a little handbill, nine inches long and six 
inches Avide, was thrust under the doors of thousands of dwell- 
ings in New York. It set forth in short compass the low price 
and the peculiar character of the Times. The paper was "only 
sixpence a week," and it contained "an immense amount of 
reading matter for that price," and more to the same effect. 
As a curiosity, the following exact copy of this production is 
appended : — 


" The carrier of the New York Daily Times proposes to leave it at this 
house every morning for a week, for the perusal of the family, and to enable 
them, if they desire jt, to receive it regularly. 

" The Times is a very cheap paper, costing the subscriber only sixpence a 
week, and contains an immense amount of reading matter for that price. 


The proprietors have abundant capital, able assistants, and every facility for 
making it as good a paper as there is in the city of Nev? York. It will con- 
tain regularly all the news of the day, full telegraphic reports from all quar- 
ters of the country, full city news, correspondence, editorials, etc., etc. 

" At the end of the week the carrier will call for his pay ; and a continuance 
of subscription is very respectfully solicited. 
" New Yokk, Sept. 21st, 1851." 

Through legitimate channels, the Times was thus brought to 
the notice of all classes of readers, and while those engaged in 
its service were adequately rewarded for heavy labor, money 
was also freely spent in procuring early news, and in providing 
correspondence and contributions. In the first twelve months, 
thirteen thousand dollars vere paid to the editors of the paper, — 
a sum considered enormous in those days, although a mere 
trifle now, — twenty-five thousand dollars were expended in the 
mechanical department ; forty thousand dollars were j)aid for 
the white paper upon which the Times was printed. The Hoe 
press and the general outfit of the office cost nearly fifty thou- 
sand dollars. In all, one hundred thousand dollars were sunk 
before a profit was made. The gradual increase of advertising 
patronage of course helped to pay expenses ; but the outlay 
was for a long time heavy and constant. The capitalists in the 
firm drew no money out, having courage to wait, and sufficient 
means for their own support while they waited. Mr. Ray- 
mond, embarrassed in the adjustment of his aflFairs with Gen- 
eral Webb, was content to draw a salary of fifty dollars a week, 
upon which he lived. 

The general results of the first year were described by Mr. 
Raymond in an article entitled "The Year One," which appeared 
in the leading column of the Times on the 17th of September, 
1852. This article is an important part of the history of the 
Times, and we reproduce it entire : — 


" This day's issue closes the first volume of the New York Daily Times. 
"Hie year's experience has disappointed alike the expectations of its friends, 
and the predictions of its foes. At the outset, owing mainly to personal 
causes, it was compelled to eucounter as fierce hostility as any new enterprise 
ever met. Advantage was taken, by men whose personal resentments uni- 
formly overbear all considerations of justice and fair play, of the absence 


fl'om the country of the principal editor, to defame his character, belie his 
motives, misrepresent in the most shameful manner the objects and scope of 
the enterprise, and to prejudice, by all the arts of unscrupulous cunning, the 
public mind against the Daily Times. These efforts were continued, with re- 
lentless and unrebulfed mendacity, for some months previous to the com- 
mencement of the paper ; and were seconded in various quarters by those who 
became innocently their dupes, as well as by those whom "selfish fear of ri- 
valry prompted to a similar course, 

"Our readers will bear us witness that we have troubled them but little 
hitherto with reference to matters of this kind. We have allowed this tide 
of interested hostility to take its own course, feeling quite certain that it 
must in the end exhaust itself, or be turned back by public justice and the 
sober judgment of the reading community. We have reached a point now at 
which we are entirely willing to abide by the verdict of the tribunal to whicli 
our only appeal was made. We have left the Times to speak for itself, day 
by day ; and we have left its habitual readers to judge for themselves of its 
character, of the justice of the hostility it has encountered, and of the truth 
or falsehood of tlie widespread rumors by which it has been assailed. The 
favorite shape in which the interested enemies of the paper and its editor 
have clothed their hostility has been the charge of Abolitionism. Day after 
day, week after week, and month after month, — from a period antecedent by 
some months to its publication, down to the present time, — a certain portion 
of the public press, both in this city and out of it, has denounced the Times 
as an abolitionist organ, — as devoted to the interests of the anti-slavery cru- 
sade, — as animated by this sentiment and controlled by this leading and pre- 
dominant purpose. We have never stopped to contradict or correct this cal- 
umny, partly because we are never disposed to 'give reasons upon 
compulsion,' but mainly because we felt sure the public would not credit 
it unless the contents of the Times should show it to be true. And now, at 
the close of its first volume, after one year's trial, with three hundred and 
twelve daily issues from which to select the evidence, we are quite willing to 
allow its twenty-five thousand subscribers, and its hundred thousand readers, 
in every section of the Union, and comprising all shades of opinion, to say 
for themselves whether the allegation is true or false. We do not suppose 
that, upon that or upon any other subject, the Times has always expressed 
opinions to which everybody would at once assent ; but we do assert that its 

leading aim, the guiding purpose traceable throughout its whole career, — 

the principles it has maintained, the tone it has preserved, and the spirit and 
scope of all its discussions, have been in the most direct and palpable hostil- 
ity to the slanderous allegations by which it has been assailed. 

"The strono'est possible proof that the public confidence in the Times has 
not been in the least degree touched by these assaults, is found in the success 
by wliich it has been crowned. It has been immeasurably more successful, 
in all respects, than any new paper of a similar character ever before pub- 
lished in the United States. There is not one of the established and power- 
ful journals by which it is now surrounded, in this or in any other city, which 
closed the first year of its existence with an experience at all comparable to 
that of the Daihj Times. In circulation, in income, in influence, in every- 
thing which goes to make up the aggregate of a successful journal. It chal- 


lenges a comparison with any other paper ever published. "We have printed 
daring the year, as shown by the self-adjusting register upon our Mammoth 
Press, seven million five hundred and fifty thousand copies; which gives an 
average daily circulation of twenty-four thousand one hundred and ninety- 
eight, from the very day it started. That circulation has fluctuated, more or 
less, of course, as does that of all cheap papers, with the season, the demands 
of business, etc., etc. ; but commencing with no subscribers at all it has steadily 
advanced, and is now increasing as rapidly as at any time since it was three 
mouths old. Its readers are among the best portion of our citizens, — those 
who read it because they like it, and not because it panders to any special 
taste, and least of all to any low or degrading appetite. It is made up for all 
classes, and it is designed to cover all departments. Whatever has interest 
or importanz-fi f"*" "" y rr»ngiripvnh]p p ortion of the community has lonnd . a 
place, according to its limits, within its columns. We feel that we can 
safBly appeal tb our readers for prool ot the Iktt, that we have neither spared 
labor nor expense in the endeavor to make the Times in all respects as good 
a newspaper, as interesting and useful for family perusal, as complete in its 
summary of news, as reliable in Its statements, as able and candid in its dis- 
cussions, and as perfect in every way, as any newspaper in the city, without 
regard to its price. We have expended during the j^ar not less than one 
hundred thousand dollars upon its various departments. Of this amount 
over tliirteen thousand dollars have been paid to editors, correspondents, and 
contributors ; about twenty-five thousand dollars have been paid to composi- 
tors, pressmen, and others employed in the mechanical departments of the 
paper ; we have paid very nearly forty thousand dollars for the v^hite paper 
alone upon which it has been printed ; and upon every other department, 
whether in obtaining news, correspondence from distant points, articles 
of ability, and written with care, upon engrossing topics, or in improving the 
typographical and general appearance of the paper, the same liberal, and 
even lavish, expenditure has been bestowed. 

" We commenced the publication of the Times with the determination to 
make it the best family daily newspaper in the city of New York. After one 
year's experience, encouraged by the abundant support of the public we have 
received, we are resolved to go forward with all possible speed to the full at- 
tainment of that object. We have thus far liad obstacles to encounter — 
some of which the lapse of time has removed, while others will be made to 
yield to the energy and resources we shall bring to the task. We have suf- 
fered most of all from lack of room; as, owing to the limited size of the sheet, 
we could neither give as much I'eading matter daily as we desired, nor afford 
to take advertisements at so low a price as other papers. We shall endeavor, 
during the coming year, to obviate these difiiculties, so far as possible. 

" So much for the year that is past. To-morrow we shall enter upon our 
Second year and the Second Volume of the Daily Times; and we will then 
hold some further conference with our readers upon these matters of direct 
Interest to them, as .well as to ourselves." 







When Raymond announced his pui-pose of establishing the 
Times, he had no difficulty in securing competent assistants. 
Known as a trained journalist, an accomplished scholar, a pol- 
ished gentleman, and an indefatigable worker, he attracted to 
his paper men who had previously slaved for pittances, under 
masters who were neither courteous nor noble. Niunberless 
applications were made for places in the service of the new 
paper; and from the whole number he chose half a dozen. 
The gentlemen engaged were experienced journalists, who, 
from humble beginnings, had steadily worked their way up- 
wards, until they had achieved reputations for talent, skill, in- 
dustry, and trustworthiness. Many years later, Mr. Eaymond 
frankly attributed to this early company of his assistants a great 
measure of the success which had attended his independent 

The first assistant in the Times, on the 18th of September, 
1851, and for several years afterwards, was Mr. Alexander C. 
Wilson, a native of New Jersey, whose -previous experience as 
the conductor of a local journal in that State had made him 
familiar with the general requirements of journalism. Aside 
from this professional qualification, Mr. Wilson's services to 
the new paper were extremely valuable in another direction. 
His mind, encyclopaedic and precise, had been carefully trained 
by a long course of reading and study. His early years had 


been passed under the care of a father* whose culture was 
large, whose associations were with the foremost men of his 
time, and whose tenderest care was always bestowed upon his 
children. The son, storing in a retentive memory the treasures 
he had amassed, was able, in later life, to turn them to useful 
account. Mr. Wilson finally left the Times to assume the Pres- 
idency of a Bank Note Engraving Company in New York ; was 
afterwards editor of the New York Commercial Advertiser for a 
few months ; and in the winter of 1866 accepted the position of 
Ao-ent of the New York Associated Press in London, in which 
city he is now living. 

Mr. James "W. Simonton, who left the Courier and Erv- 
quirer, in 1851, to join the editorial staff of the Times, is now 
the General Agent of the Associated Press in New York. 
His personal history is interestmg. For twentj^-five years he 
has been actively engaged in newspaper life, and is widely 
known as one of the most successful men in the ranks of 
American journalism. Beginning at the age of twenty-one, as 
a law-court reporter for the American Republican, — a " Native 
American " paper then published in New York by Leavitt & 
Trow, — he was content, like Raymond, to work for small pay, 
in order to learn the routine of the profession he had deter- 
mined to follow. His salary was five dollars a week ; and the 
proprietors of the American Republican declared themselves 
" well satisfied " with his services ! Through the kindly aid of 
Mr. Charles Burdett, — of whom there are many cheery recollec- 
tions among the older newspaper men in New York, — Mr. 
Simonton soon made material additions to his income by extra 
work for other papers ; and within a year he went to Washing- 
ton as a member of the staff of Senate reporters, — the semi- 
oiBBicial corps who reported the debates for Ritchie's Union under 
Mr. Polk's administration. Later, he wrote sketches of the 
proceedings and debates in both Houses of Congress, for the 
New York Courier and Enquirer. In November, 1850, he 
went to California to start a W^hig paper at the seat of govern- 
ment ; but while he was on the way thither another person 

* The late General Wilson, U. S. Senator from New Jersey. 


stepped into the field. Mr. Simonton then entered into an 
engagement with the proprietors of the San Francisco Courier, 
the leading Whig paper of the State ; but after conducting that 
journal for three months, he returned to New York to take 
service in the Courier and Enquirer, as night editor under 
Mr. Eaymond. He continued to hold this place under Mr. 
Spaulding after Mr. Raymond's departure for Europe in the 
spring of 1851 ; but in the fall of that year resigned, to assume 
a similar position on the Times. His experience in Washington, 
however, soon fnade his presence in that city essential to the 
Times, and for several years he was in constant attendance upon 
the sessions of Congress as the correspondent of the paper. 
In this service he displayed great energy and sagacity ; and 
he often procured for the Times important intelligence in ad- 
vance of other correspondents. He is naturally quick, and he 
has always cherished a profound conviction that it is the first 
duty of a good newspaper man to " beat " all his rivals in the 
collection of early news. 

One incident in the life of Mr. Simonton possesses historical 
interest. In January, 1857, while he occupied the position of 
Washington correspondent of the Times, he wrote a letter to 
that paper, exposing a scheme of land robbery which had been 
devised by the Congressional lobby. Under the guise of grant- 
ing to the Territory of Minnesota certain public lands for the 
purpose of aiding in the construction of railroads, a bill had 
been prepared which gave away nearly the whole domain of 
that territory. It was, in fact, what the Times of January 6th 
called it, — "a magnificent land-stealing scheme." Mr. Simon- - 
ton fearlessly exposed the con-uption of the lobby, and of the 
members of Congress who were notoriously the tools of the 
lobby ; and, while acquitting the House Committee on Public 
Lands of any complicity in the fraud, insisted that the mem- 
bers of that committee had been " overborne by outside influ- 
ences." He added : " If the committee will take the pains to 
inquire, they will find the baser strata of the lobby awaiting 
the advent of this bill with greedy hands, ready to shame all 
decency in the influences to be us.^d for its success when once 
before the House. As a guide to their investigations let me 


tell them, to begin with, that this bill is the special pet of that 
corrupt organization of insiders and oaitsiders whose evil influ- 
ence upon the legislation of the present Congress has become 
almost as notorious as the Congress itself. The proportion of 
honest men who have anything to do with it would have been 
scarcely sufficient to save Sodom and Gomorrah from destruc- 
tion, while there is hardly an individual hanging about the cap- 
ital, living upon ill-gotten gains, and whose hands reek with the 
slime of congressional corruption, who does not look to this 
Minnesota land-bill as the present Mecca of his hopes, — the 
scheme through which esiDecially he expects to secure the chief 
reward of his winter's humiliation and non-indictable crime." 
When the Times containing this letter reached Washington, 
there was a stir in Congress, — besides great rage in the lobby. 
The House of Representatives ordered a Committee of Investi- 
gation. Before this committee Mr. Simonton was summoned, 
and named witnesses who established the fact of corruption in 
the House; but he declined to give the 'names of certain 
other members, in regard to whom his suspicions had been 
aroused in the course of confidential conversations with 
them in his professional capacity. He had been satisfied 
corruption existed ; it was his duty to expose it. He 
had done so, and had acted with a pure motive. More, he 
would not say. For this contumacy, he was summoned to the 
bar of the House, and there, in his own defence, delivered a 
temperate and logical address, adhering to his first declarations, 
and arguing the whole question upon its merits. The result 
was, that on the 19th of February, the committee made its 
report to the House, declaring the charges of corruption 
proved, and recommending the summary expulsion from the 
House of four members of the body. The Times and its corre- 
spondent were, therefore, fully vindicated ; and once more a 
Free Press had performed useful service for the public good. . 

In the spring of 1857, when a Mormon war was expected, Mr. 
Simonton Avent to Utah as the representative of the Times; but 
neither correspondents nor troops had anything to do, for the 
Mormons refused to fight. ]\Ir. Simonton then went to Cali- 
fornia, where he bought one-half of the San Francisco Bulletin; 
varying his journey by a trip to the newly discovered gold 


mines on Fi-aser Eiver, full accounts of which he sent to the 
Times. In 1858, he took up his residence in San Francisco, 
to edit the Bulletin, and remained in that city until the winter 
of 1859-60, when he again went to Washington, and subse- 
quently resumed his connection with the Times. For several 
years past, he has held stock in the Times, and he is still a 
partner in the San Francisco bulletin Company ; but the duties 
of the Associated Press Agency now occupy the greater part 
of his time. 

Mr. Nehemiah C. Palmer, City Editor of the Times,, joined 
the editorial foi'ce of that paper early in 1852, and died in the 
service on the 7th of June, 1853. He was a man of exceeding 
modesty, but very earnest, conscientious, and painstaking, — 
a facile, agreeable, and forcible writer, and a genial and amiable 
companion. His first experience in journalism was as an 
editor and piiblisher of the Bnffalonian, at BuflFalo, New Yotk, 
when he was only eighteen years of age. He was afterwards 
engaged upon the Herald in New York. His predecessor in 
the City Editorship of the Times, for a few months, was Mr. 
James B. Swain, afterwards the Albany correspondent of that 

Mr. Caleb C. Norvell, long and favorably known as the 
commercial editor of the Times, was one of the earliest and 
most valuable accessions to its staff. His service has been 
faithful and unremitting for eighteen years ; and he is now the 
veteran of the editorial department of the Times. He is a 
native of Tennessee ; but the greater part of his life has been 
passed in the North, chiefly in the conduct of monetary affairs. 
His experience is large, and his knowledge of the principles 
and laws of trade and finance exceptionally profound. 

Mr. Michael Hennessey, a brother of the artist William J. 
Hennessey, was also an early worker on the Times, acting as 
assistant to Mr. Norvell. 

The whole number of printers required to put into type the 
first number of the Times was only eighteen. The number of 
printers employed in the same office to-day is sixty ! 

In its second year, the Times gave employment to a larger 
number of editors, contributors, and reporters; for the size and 


the price of the paper had both been doubled, and more 
space was afforded for the display of its resources. But before 
this period of its history is traced, it is proper to pause, for the 
purpose of considering two notable events which conduced 
largely to the popularity and the influence of its Editor. 







ING OEDEK — Webb's suppkessed speech subsequently printed — the 


LoTJis Kossuth arrived in the United States in 1851, land- 
ing first at Staten Island, in the harbor of New York, on 
Friday, the 5th of December.* He came with the flavor of a 
hero. At the head of the race of the Magyars, he had made a 
gallant stand against the tyranny of a despotic ruler. The 
representative of liberal ideas, he had been sustained by the 
moral sjonpathy of the enlightened, both in Europe and Amer- 
ica ; but, defeated in the field, powerless in councils which had 
been suddenly undermined by treachery or cowardice, he fled. 
The sympathy evoked by his bravery, and the admiration ex- 
. cited by the brilliancy of his genius, had been but unsubstan- 
tial rewards for his efforts, as well as insufficient props for the 
edifice of Liberty he. had endeavored to erect. He came to 
the United States, by his own admission, in search of the 
sinews of war, which he designated by the phrase " material 

* The steamer Humboldt, from Havre and Cowes, arrived off Staten Island at 
two o'clock in tlie morning, having on board Governor Kossuth and his 
family. In expectation of his coming, Dr. A. Sidney Doane, Health Oflacer 
of the port, had kept ceaseless vigil ; and when the steamer was first de- 
scried, at midnight, a discharge of rockets announced the event. A large 
tent had been erected on the shore of Staten Island, to which, early on the 
following morning, Kossutli was conveyed, to undergo the ceremonies of a 
formal reception, and Eichard Adams Locke was the orator of the occasion. 
Kossuth was then permitted to go on to New York, whiere he became the sub- 
ject of continued attentions. 


aid." — a phrase which soon passed into a proverb. His re- 
ception was gushingly enthusiastic. The period was long 
ailteriorto the War, and the hospitable, excitable population of 
New York had not yet become wearied with shoutings and 
dinner-giving, and the other accompaniments of a grand wel- 
come to a distinguished guest. Moreover, Kossuth was a rep- 
resentative man, and he had undertaken a work which appealed 
directly to the heart of the American citizen. True, he had 
failed, but not, at that time, irremediably; and his very 
misfortunes served the double purpose of intensifying the pop- 
ular demonstrations in his favor, and of replenishing his ex- 
hausted treasury with the voluntary contributions of his 

Mr. Raymond, whose sympathy always went freely out to- 
wards the oppressed, had warmly espoused the cause of Hun- 
gary, from the outbreak of the insurrection ; and he was one 
of the earliest to welcome the Magyar chief. It was shrewdly 
suspected, however, that the exceedingly conspicuous part 
taken by the Times, in recording the movements of the guest 
of tbe day, was due, in part, to the desire of its conductor to 
eclipse his contemporaries in the fulness and accuracy of its 
detail. Mr. Raymond was. unquestionably sincere in the sen- 
timents he expressed in relation to the struggle led by Kos- 
suth : but the newspaper instinct was strong within him ; and 
the Times was less than three months old when Kcjssnth land^ 
ed. His arrival was the first notable event of the kind which- 
had occurred since the foundation of the new journal ; the op- 
portunity was favorable for the display of enterprise. Mr. 
Raymond was quick to sec his advantage, — the part he took 
was that of a skilful editor, a polished orator, and a pugua- 
cious controversialist, all in one. For himself he obtained 
reputation ; for his paper he earned credit. The Kossuth 
fever was an excellent advertisement for the Times. 

The municipal banquet to Kossuth Avas given at the Irving 
House, then situated at the corner of Broadway and Chambers 
streets, on Thursday evening, December 11, 1851. Mayor 
Kingsland presided. The banqueting hall was elaborately dec- 
orated, and among the guests were Robert Rantoul, of Massa- 


chusetts ; Chauncey Cleveland, GoTernor of Connecticut; Hugh 
Maxwell, Collector of the Port of New York; William V. 
Brady, Postmaster of the city ; Kecorder F. A. Tallmadge ; 
John Young, United States Treasurer ; the members of the 
Common Council, the Commissioners of Emigration ; United 
States District Attorney J. Prescott, Hall ; John Van Buren ; 
Ogden Hoffman ; General James Watson Webb ; Major-Gen- 
eral Sandford and the members of his Staff; Colonel Gardner, 
of the regular army; C.V.Anderson, Eegistrar; Alexander. 
W. Bradford, Surrogate ; Simeon Draper ; Moses H. Grinnell ; 
James S. Thayer, Public Administrator ; Charles O'Connor ; E. 
K. Collins ; Marshall O. Roberts , and many others distinguished 
in political, commercial, and literary life. 

Letters of regret were received from Daniel Webster, Henry 
Clay, Lewis Cass, William H. Seward, Hamilton Fish, Robert 
C. Winthrop, Governor Washington Hunt, Christopher Morgan, 
and J. H. Hobart Haws. After a brief introductory speech 
by Mayor Kingsland, Kossuth was Introduced and spoke for 
upwards of an hour. Then occurred a curious scene, in which 
Raymond figured conspicuously. 

The Mayor announced the sixth regular toast, as follows : — 

" The Press — The organized Voice of Freedora —It whispers hope to the 
oppressed, and thunders defiance at the tyrant." 

Mr. Raymond rose to respond to this toast, and General James 
Watson Webb, of the Courier and Enquirer, filsorose to per- 
form the same office. This circumstance gave rise to much 
confusion. Then were loud cries for " Raymond " and other 
cries for " Webb," from different parts of the house ; and con- 
siderable time elapsed before order could be restored. Mr. 
Raymond then proceeded to say that he had risen simply to per- 
form a duty assigned to him by the managers of the banquet. 
He was interrupted at this point by Gen. Webb, when the cries 
were renewed , and great confusion followed . After a protracted 
altercation, in the course of which the police came forward and 
interposed, General Webb sat down, and Mr. Raymond re- 
sumed. Repeating that he had risen simply to perform a duty 
which had been assigned to him, he added that he had persisted 


in its performance from a habit he had of finishingwhatever 
he undertook! He had merely, on behalf of the profession to 
Tvhioh he had the honor to belong, — he continued, — to return 
thanks for the complitoent which had just been paid it. He 
continued at some length, frequently interrupted by applause, 
closing with this sentiment : — 

" The First Minister Plenipotentiary from the Independent Bepublic of Sun- 
gary — May he hasten to receive the welcome which awaits him on these 
' shores." 

This toast was received with applause ; and then General 
Webb again took the floor. He was greeted with loud cries : 
"Sit down!" "Hear him!" "JSTo, no!" "Order!" "Order!" 
Silence having finally been restored, the Mayor said it was the 
desire of the distinguished guest of the evening that the gentle- 
man should be heard. The confusion continuing, Mr. Ray- 
mond obtained the attention of the assembly, and said it was 
his wish, and he believed the wish of all the members of the 
Press at least who were present, that the gentleman, against 
whom such signs of disapprobation had been expressed, should 
be allowed to speak. This was magnanimous. 

General Webb again rose, tCnd read some remarks from a 
printed slip, in which he declared it to be the frequent duty of 
the Press to resist public opinion, etc. ; but, after he had been 
once or twice interrupted, he was at last forced to desist by the 
cries, hisses, ai^d noises of all binds, that were made around him. 

The Times' report of this dinner, on the following day, 
after describing this scene, said, "We intended to publish the 
remarks of General Webb, in full, this morning, but their great 
length and the pressure upon our columns forbid." On the 
following day, the Times surrendered several columns of space 
to descriptions of the movements of Kossuth and his suite, as 
well as to reports of speeches made at the banquet, which had 
been crowded out of its report on the previous day, including 
that of General Webb. Webb's speech was copied from the 
Courier and Enquirer, and made two columns of solid minion 
type in the Times. The following are one or two passages 
from it : -^ 



" For twenty-four years, Mr. President, — nearly a quarter of a century, — I 
have been the sole responsible editor of the Courier and Enquirer. And this 
long period embraces so much of the time usually allotted to man here on 
earth, that I feel it my right to speak of the Press as one who is looking back 
upon the past ; and who may, therefore, speak in its praise without being 
liable to the charge of self-laudation. 

. . . . " Sir, when the abolitionism which has so recently shaken to Its 
centre the whole fabric of our government first determined to make itself 
felt ill our political contests, it selected tliis city for the arena wherein to 
plant itself, and from whence to disseminate its pestiferous sentiments. 
Then, as now, sir, the conservative Press proclaimed abolition doctrines 
treasonable to the union, and aided in driving their advocates from our city. 
Tor this act it was burned by the infatuated fanatics, and its editor compli- 
mented with groans 1 More recently, anti-rentism raised its hideous head in 
this State ; and putting at defiance the law and the very basis of social order 
upon which society rests, has not hesitated to resort to murder itself, in sup- 
port of its deliberate robberies. Controlling many thousand voters, political 
demagogues have been base enough to tamper with the many-headed mon- 
ster, baptized, as it is, in the blood of the officers of the law. But the Press 
generally, mindful of its duties to the country and to itself, boldly denounced, 
as they merited, this band of robbers and murderers ; and, for so doing, one 
of its editors was burnt in efligy, with his own paper as a winding-sheet, 
amid the fiendish groans of men far more reckless in their character than .the 
savages they disgraced and dishonored by assuming their garb as a cloak to 
their lawlessness. And only three months ago, some exiles from the land of 
Cuba, claiming to be republicans and martyrs to liberty, demanded of the 
people of America intervention in the affairs of a nation with which we are 
at peace, and asked of our people ' material aid ' in addition to our ' friendly 
sympathy.' The Press of this city, and of the United States generally, 
pointed to our laws of neutrality and to the great fundamental principles of 
our government which regulate our intercourse with foreign nations, as an 
insuperable objection to a compliance with the demand. We quoted the 
Farew'ell Address of the immortal Washington as a barrier to any change in 
our foreign policy ; while we freely expressed our sympathy with the cause 
of freedom throughout the world. But this did not suit the fugitive and exile 
from Cuba, — the self-styled martyr in the cause of Republican Liberty, who 
was so utterly ignorant of its first principles, that he would have controlled 
the liberty of the press, as he controlled his own down-trodden slaves ; and 
he appealed from the doctrines of Washington, the laws of the land, and the 
government itself, to the ' Sovereign People ! ' And in yonder park, under 
your own eyes, Mr. Mayor and President, while your two houses were in 
session, gentlemen of the Common Council, he then and there asked for and 
received three groans for the Conservative Press from the excited populace 
whom his eloquence had roused to frenzy, and who were persuaded to look 
upon him as the Apostle of Liberty." 


If General Webb's conduct and observations were regarded 
with disfavor by the guests assembled to do honor to Louis 
Kossuth, what wonder? 

A few days later, Mr. Eaymond appeared in a stronger light. 
As the speaker assigned to represent the Press in another dem- 
onstration in honor of Kossuth, he spoke very eloquently, and 
encountered no opposition. The services of the police were 
not again called into requisition ; and the ill-mannered rivalry 
which had covered Webb with disgrace at the previous dinner 
had slunk, abashed, into the background. 

On Monday evening, December 15, 1851, the Press of New 
York gave a banquet to Kossuth at the Astor House. It was 
a splendid affair, and was attended by hundreds of persons 
distinguished in literary and journalistic life. William CuUen 
Bryant presided, assisted by Horace Greeley, George B. Butler, 
and Julius Froebel. Among the guests were George Ban- 
croft, Governor Anthony, of Ehode Island, Mayor Kingslaud, 
Moses H. Grinnell, Charles King, President of Columbia Col- 
lege ; Simeon Draper, President of the Board of Ten Govern- 
ors ; Parke Godwin, Charles L. Brace, James Harper, John A. 
King, and Rev. E. H. Chapin. Among those who sent letters 
of regret were Daniel Webster, Alexander H. H. Stuart, John 
I. Crittenden, Washington Hunt, Geneval Avezzana, and 
others. Speeches were made by Mr. Bryant, Mr. Bancroft, 
Kossuth, Charles King, Parke Godwin, Henry Ward Beecher, 
and Charles L. Brace. 

Mr. Eaymond made the principal speech of the evening, in 
response to the fourth toast : — 

" National Independence — Secured by international love, and not left to the 
mercy of the strongest." 

Mr. Raymond said : — 

" Mr. President and Gentlejien : — While I am ready at all times to dis- 
charge any duty that may be laid upon me, I must ask permission of yon, sir, 
and of the honorable Committee of Arrangements, to say that, after the full, 
the luxurious, and the satisfiictory banquet at which and under which we 
have just sat down, the toast you have assigned me is altogether dry. 
[Laughter.] The principle which it asserts seems better fitted for Sena- 
torial discussion, or for Executive enforcement, than for this occasion. But 


yet, sir, it should be rememberecl that this is not simply a convivial occasion. 
We are not met here merely for enjoyment or for hospitality. We come here 
for a practical business purpose. We are assembled here to-night for the 
purpose of extending practical sympathy and effective aid to the cause of 
Hungarian independence. [Applause.] Moreover, sir, the Press in this age, 
and especially in this country, claims and exercises jurisdiction over every pos- 
sible subject of Interest or importance to the world. Therefore it is that 
even so grave a topic as this should receive consideration even here. 

" But certainly, sir, the principle asserted cannot need debate. The very 
idea of national existence implies the idea of national sovereignty; It Cannot 
for a moment be doubted that a crime is committed against public law, when 
the constitution ov liberty of any nation shall be trodden under foot by des- 
potic power. Every one will admit this as an abstract principle. It is only 
when we come to a practical application of it that doubts arise and hesita- 
tion is feigned. To apply it to tliis very practical case, — this case which 
gives it the only practical importance which it has for us to-night, — does 
anybody doubt that Russia committed a crime against public law when she 
trod the independence of Hungary to the earth beneath her feet ? " [Responses 
of "No!" "No!"] "Why, sir, consider what Hungary was. No nation on the 
face of the earth ever held an independent existence by higher and holier 
sanctions than those which guaranteed hor rights to Hungary. The Consti- 
tution of the United States does not stand upon a iirmer basis, so far as riglit 
and justice are concerned, than did the Constitution and the riglits of Hun- 
gary. She held them against Austria, not only by immemorial usage — not 
only by the solemn compact of treatise — not only by all the sanctions which 
eight hundred years of acquiescence could give them ; but she held them 
by what we Republicans must regard as a still higher sanction, — that of 
the will of the people, up to the time when Austria claimed the absolute 
subjugation of Hungary, with the right of the people of Hungary to exercise 
over their own dominions . exclusive and sovereign legislation, they had gone 
on exercising the sovereign power which they had thus enjoyed ; they made 
laws for their own domestic concerns; they eraalncipatod tlie great mass of 
the people from the burdens put upon them ; and though the nobles held the 
supreme control of the diet, they admitted the serfs to an absolute equality 
of political power. That, I venture to say, is an act which stands alone in 
the history of nations. It was this very act of extending the political pow- 
er, which belonged to them by sovereign right, to the great mass of the peo- 
ple, — it was this very act of making their Constitution and legislation demo- 
cratic in all its essential features, that brought Austria down upon Hungary, 
with all the force of her myriad troops. But that force was not sufficient. 
The free spirit of a free people, determined to maintain and assert their 
rights, was then, as it always will be, too powerful for the hired minions of 
an Imperial despot. Hungary had asserted her independent rights against 
Austria. She maintained that assertion. She drove the Austrian armies 
from her border. She crushed the Bon Jellachich lilte a flower beneath her 
feet; and she would have stood to-day a republic by the side of the United 
States but for the gigantic crime against which thi_s toast, to wliioh I stand 
here to answer, is meant to protest. Russia, a foreign power having no con- 
nection with Hungary, having no claim upon her, having nothing more to do 


With her, so far as right is concerned, than we have with the Khan of Tar- 
tary, -Eussia sent her troops into Hungary, and, by mere brute force, trod 
her liberties in the dust. And is that no crime ? Is there a heart here to- 
night that has one breath to utter in vindication of that act of the Russian 
despot ? If there is, then I will argue with him ; if there is not, I shall pro- 
ceed to speak of the practical point, -the most important point which can 
come up before the people of the United States." [" Hear ! Hear ! "] 

" Is it any part of the duty of the United States to take any concern In the 
matter? " [Cries of "Yes ! " " Yes ! "]. " Well, sir, that depends entirely upon 
the position of the United States, and upon her relations to international law, 
and to human rights. If the United States were a despotic power, if they 
were thousands of leagues away, and beyond all reach of intelligence from the 
scene where these transactions are going on, then they might claim exemp- 
tion from the common duty which falls upon them. America is one of the 
nations of the earth. To her, as to all other nations, is the guardianship of 
international law committed. She cannot suffer that law to be violated, and 
to be trampled in the dust, any more than any other nation on the face of the 
earth, without weakening her position and her power. She is bound to pro- 
test, as a nation can protest, and with all the power of the nation at the back 
of that protest, against this violation of international law, — this violation of 
international law in Hungary, which may at some time be extended to France, 
which has already been extended to Rome, which may be extended to Cuba, 
and which, for aught we know, may be extended to the United States. She 
is bound to protest, because she has set the examples to Europe, of freedom 
and independence. A nation is responsible for its example as well as its 
acts.; because that example is among its acts. And now that the down-trod- 
den people of Europe are taking an example and drawing confidencefrom 
our success, when they are looking to the heights of political power to which 
we have attained, and are sighing for some share of the political freedom 
and prosperity which we enjoy, is it for us to say, ' We have nothing to do 
with you ; no sympathy with you ; fight your own battles ; we cannot even 
think of you ; we are busy with our own concerns' ? " [Cries of " No ! " " No !"] 
" Sir, if selfishness or cowardice to that extent has usurped the fountains of 
onr life, then we are doomed to lose all self-respect, if not to lose all the more 
material, but not more important, qualities of national greatness and glory. 
" Mr. President, although the occasion invites it, it cannot be necessary, 
and I am not sure it will be tolerated for me to enter into an examination of 
the reasons which have been offered against obeying this iustinctlve dictate 
of the republican heart of the American people. 'We are bound to neutral- 
ity, it is said ; it is our duty to be neutral. We have nothing to do with 
the movements of Europe!' Do we never hear of Europe? Have we no 
connection with that continent? Has Europe no influence upon ns, nor we 
upon it? Then why this movement among the people of Europe? Why do 
they struggle to attain the same heights of freedom which we have for years 
enjoyed? Sir, our neutrality enjoins no such indifference to the fate of Europe, 
nor to the fate of any other people on the face of the earth. I have been 
accustomed, as have many here to-night, to look to the present Secretary of 
State as an exponent of constitutional rights and the privileges of the Amer- 
ican people." [Here some dissent was manifested, and some one said : — "He 



Is no expounder."] " It Is very likely many of you may differ from mo in that 
opinion, and yet even you will confess tliat he is good authority when liis decis- 
ion jumps with your own. Now, sir, Mr. Webster, in his great sp'^ech upon 
the Panama mission in 1825, when this great question of interference with 
foreign powers with the rights of the people struggling for independence 
arose, then deflngd what our neutrality meant. ' What do we mean by our 
neutral policy? ' said he. ' Not a blind and stupid indifference to whatever is 
passing around us, — not a total disregard of approaching events or ap- 
proaching evils. Our neutral policy not only justifies, but requires, our anxious 
attention to the political events which take place in the world, a skilful per- 
ception of their relations to our own concerns, our relations to their conse- 
quences, and a firm, timely assertion of what we- hold to be our own rights 
and our interests.' [Tremendous applause.] That is a definition of neu- 
trality which I, for one, am perfectly willing to accept and to apply to the 
present occasion. I say our neutrality does not require us to be indifferent to 
the struggles of the European people for independence. On the contrary. 
It not only justifies, but requires, us to watch their movements with the closest 
attention, and to assert what we believe to be our rights and our interests in 
connection with their own. 

"But it is said we shall have war, if we say anything about Russia; that 
war is inevitable, and that it will be ruinous. Sir, I have only this answer to 
make to that. It is the answer which our commissioners made .when the 
Holy Alliance was threatening war against us, if we interfered with the re- 
volted colonies of Spain : ' It is the interest and prerogative of the United 
States to take counsel of their rights and their duties rather than their fears. ' 
[Great applause.] Any nation that conducts its foreign policy under the 
predominating influence of fear of war, or fear of any sort, does not deserve 
to have foreign relations at all. [Applause.] Let us take courage, if we 
need courage ; let us follow the example, if we need an example, from the con- 
duct of the Turkish monarch. [Applause.] When Russia and Austria, lying 
upon his borders, with their millions of armies hovering upon his frontiers, 
and with their cannon pointed at his capital, demanded that the Sultan 
should surrender to them that man who graced that chair to-night, — the 
champion of Huijgary, the star of our admiration as well as that of his own 
people, — what was the reply of that Mahomedan monarch ? ' I respect 
your power, but I respect the rights of humanity more ! Do your worst ; I 
shall do my duty, and trust in God.' [Great cheering.] And the mighty 
Republic of the West takes counsel of its fears. It prognosticates war in 
the assertion of its principles, and in protesting against a crime^ against 
which humanity from every quarter of the earth protests in the most indig- 
nant language which humanity can ever use ! 

" Sir, this case does not need argument; least of all in this present hour, 
when every heart beats with sympathy for every sentiment in favor of Hun- 
gary. It needs no argument before the American people. Never was a 
cause presented to them which so thoroughly enlisted the sympathy of the 
Americans here as that of Hungary. And there are abundant reasons for 
this, — reasons which short-sighted, prejudiced, biased observers cannot 
'perceive; reasons which men used to foreign courts, and accustomed to take 
their view of such matters from their own whims gr their own prejudices. 


cannot appreciate. They are reasons which touch the heart of the Ameri- 
can people, and prompt them to warm, earnest, and effective sympathy with 
this great'cause of independence and liberty. And one cause of that sympa- 
thy is the similarity which exists between the commencement of the Hunga- 
rian struggle for independence and ours ; in its continuance, its progress, 
and its victories, though not, I am sorry to say, in its resuljj. Hungary com- 
menced her struggle for independence, not of Austria, but of the despotism 
of Austria. She wanted her rights in connection with Austria. We wanted 
ours in connection with Great Britain, and, as late as 1774, George Washing- 
ton disclaimed, in the most earnest manner, all intention to have a separa^ 
tion from Great Britain. Yet the fact that Hungary did not strike at once 
for independence ; that she. did not say, at the very outset, that she would 
not be connected with Austria, has been urged as an objection to her con- 
duct and her struggle. That is a parallel to our own history, and that very 
parallel strikes a chord of sympathetic feeling in every heart. We sympa- 
thized with her victories ; we sympathized with her defeat; we sympathized 
with her noble heroes. And greater heroes never trod the earth, or fought 
the battles of down-trodden humanity, than those who fought upon Hunga- 
rian fields. [Applause.] Our sympathies went with her victorious com- 
manders when they drove the Austrian out of their borders, and purged 
their country of Austrian despotism. We not only sympathized with Hun- 
gary in her late struggle, but we shall aid Hungai-y in that struggle which is 
yet to come. [Great applause.] Does any man doubt it? Let him take 
counsel of his faith in the American people ; of his faith in the principles of 
humanity, and in the great foundations of our own government. Let him 
feel that here the government must obey the voice of our people [Ap- 
plause], and that that voice will be obeyed. I, for one, do not for a moment 
doubt. I do not doubt that the government of the United States — the Exec- 
utive government — will do what Great Britain did for us in 1823. Then she 
invited us when the Holy Alliance called upon her to unite with them against 
the revolted colonies of Spain to establish upon the South American shores 
the supremacy of legitimacy as the only ground of righful government; then 
she invited us to unite In protesting against it, and in protecting the colonies 
of Spain from the conspiracy against them. Great Britain then made the 
loudest protest any nation can ever make against this contemplated violation 
of international law. Let us now ask Great Britain to unite wUh us in pro- 
testing against similar violations of international law still nearer to her own 
shores. [Applause.] I do not doubt our government will ask it, because the 
voice of the people will demand it, and the government must obey it. [Ap- 
plause.] I do not doubt Great Britain will assert It. And, although I know 
perfectly well that in 1815, and before that. Great Britain intervened in 
Prance for the express purpose of restoring legitimate authority, yet I feel 
perfectly assured that the great majority of the people of that country would 
sanction such an intervention no longer. I kuow it from the English debates 
and from the English press, and from expressed opinions in every corner of 
the English realm. 

" Now I hope our government will make that proposition to Great Britain ; . 
and instruct our commanders in the Mediterranean to follow up whatever' 
course Great Britain, in connection with us, may see fit to take. . This will 


preserve the peace of Europe rather than break it. And I find reason for this 
belief in the Instance of South American experience. Then the nation of Great 
Britain and the United States prevented the alliance from interfering in the 
colonies of Spain, and thus prevented war in Europe. That is a fact which 
any man acquainted with history knows full well. Spain, Germany, Russia, 
Prussia, and aU«the allied powers were making ready their fleets, — every- 
thing was in preparation to commence war upon tlte revolted colonies of 
Spain. We protested, and Great Britain and the United States prevented that 
war. [Applause.] And, sir, such a protest from us now must have a similar 
effect, unless the power of those despots is greater, or their disposition for 
war more eager, than then! And how stands that fact? Any of you who 
know the weakness of those powers and the troubles to which they are sub- 
jected, — every one of them contriving all the while how to sit on his throne 
for a fortnight longer [Laughter] — knows that they are not anxious for a 
war. [Applause.] 

"Now, sir, I have but very few words more to speak." [Cries of " Go on! 
Go on ! "] " The power of public opinion is sadly underrated by the American 
people. I cannot find words to express my opinion of the weight of such a 
protest, half as strongly as words that were used by our great Secretary of 
State at the New Hampshire festival some years ago. He was then speaking 
of this very subject, and of the meditated design of the Emperor of Russia to 
seize upon Kossuth and his companions In Turkey; and in denouncing it he 
said : ' The lightning has its power, and the whirlwind its power, and the 
earthquake its power; but there is something among men more capable of 
shaking despotic themes than lightning, or whirlwind, or earthquake, — and 
that is the excited and aroused indignation of the whole civilised world.' [Ap- 
plause.] I conclude, Mr. President, by giving you a toast, begging pardon 
of the assembly, most humbly and earnestly, for the length of time I have 
consumed. The sentiment is drawn from our duty to neutrality, and it rests, 
too, upon the authority of the same great man from whom I have already 
quoted : — 

" Our Neutral Policy, as defined by Daniel Webster — A policy that protects 
neutrality, that defends neutrality, that takes up arms, if need be, for neu- 

Mr. Eaymond resumed his seat amid a storm of applause, 
and the assembly rose in a body, and gave him three cheers. 

During the remainder of Kossuth's sojourn in the United 
States, Mr, Eaymond was unwearied in the advocacy of the 
Hungarian cause ; and his old antagonist of the Courier and 
Enquirer received some heavy blows. The Times finally fixed 
upon Webb's paper the title of " The Austrian organ in Wall 
Street." It was not inappropriate. 





The Whig National Convention, which nominated Winfield 
Scott for the Presidency of the United States, assembled in 
the" city of Baltimore on the 16th of June, 1852. Peculiar 
circumstances caused Henry J. Raymond to figure prominently 
in the proceedings of the body ; and he came out of a fierce 
ordeal with great increase of reputation. The incisive part of 
his nature had had full play, — and he could cut deeply when 
he chose to wield *a blade. He had been put upon his mettle ; 
and on occasion he could be brave. The Baltimore Conven- 
tion gave him his first public opportunity to display these 
qualities ; and those who had known him best were surprised 
the least when he emerged from the conflict with honor and 

The history of this episode in the life of Mr. Raymond is, in 
part, the history of the sectional strife which culminated in 
war in 1861. We shall, therefore, give -space to a complete 
account of it, both as the revelation of some strong points in 
the character of Mr. Raymond, and as an illustration of the 
feeling which then divided North from South. 

The convention was composed of full delegations from every 
State in the Union. The number of members was nearly three 
hundred ; and Gen. John G. Chapman, of Maryland, was the 
presiding officer. The candidates for the Presidential office 


■were General Scott, Daniel Webster, and Millard Fillmore; 
and so vigorously were the conflicting claims insisted upon by 
the delegations committed to each respectively, that it was not 
until the convention had been in session for six days, and on 
the fifty-third ballot, that General Scott obtained the requisite 
number of votes, through defections from the ranks of the 
Fillmore men. Webster's friends stood steadily by him, — 
their votes numbering thirty-two at the highest, and never fall- 
ing below twenty-one. Fillmore fell gradually from one hun- 
dred and thirty-three to one hundred and twelve ; and on the 
final ballot the vote was : For Scott 159 ; for Fillmore 112 ; 
for Webster 21. The number necessary to a choice was 147. 
One day of the session was wasted on the wrangle over the 
case' of the Editor of the " Times ; " and in the course of that, 
wrangle, the southern element in the convention disj)layed its 
arbitrary temper, and received, in return, first, a signal rebuke, 
and then a signal defeat. 

Mr. Raymond went to Baltimore, to attend the convention, 
not as a delegate, but as the correspondent of his own paper. 
On the second day of the session, he was requested by the 
chairman of the New York delegation to take the place of 
Benjamin F. Bruce, one of the two representatives of the 
Twenty-Second Congressional District of New York, who had 
been compelled by sudden illness to return home. It subse- 
quently appeared that when Mr. Bruce, departed, he had 
left, in the hands of the chairman of the Now York delegation, 
a blank proxy, which had been twice filled with the names of 
gentlemen * who declined to act. The chairman then applied to 
Mr. Raymond, who gave his consent only after consultation 
with the entire New York delegation, and also with the chair- 
man of the Committee on Credentials, — Mr Watts, of Virginia. 
There was no dissenting voice, and Mr. Raymond then took 
his seat as a delegate, with the full consent of the convention. 
His colleague was Mr. Richardson. 

The immediate cause of the whirlwind of wrath which Mr. 
Raymond was fated to encounter, was a telegraphic despatch, 

* Ogden Hoffman and George W. Blunt. 


sent by him to the Times on Friday night, June 18th, and pub- 
lished with displayed head-lines in that journal on the morning 
of the 19th. In this despatch, he intimated that a bargain had 
been made by the Northern Whigs, to relinquish a part of the 
platform of principles, in order to secure Southern votes for 
Scott. The charge was true, for it was the day of Northern 
cowardice,* and the South cracked the whip continually. But 
Raymond's old enemy, James Watson Webb, was also in at- 
tendance upon the convention, and he had an assistant in 
the office of the Courier and Enquirer in. New York, who took 
much pains to send the following despatch to his chief: — 

" General J. Watson Webb, 

" Care of Moses M. Orinnell. 

"Raymond has telegraphed to, and published in, his paper, that the New 
York delegation is indignant at the rejection of their claimants, and that, if 
Scott is defeated, they will protest against the action of the convention, and 
disavow its binding force. 

" These are the exact words. Also, that the Northern Whigs gave way on 
the platform, with the understanding that Southern Whigs were to give way 
on Scott. 

" Geo. H. Andrews." 

The despatch sent to the Times by Mr. Raymond, and men- 
tioned in the foregoing message from Andrews, was as fol- 
lows : — 

" Baltimore, Friday, June 18. 
"Six ballots show an average Strength of Webster, twenty-nine ; Pillmore, 
one hundred and thirty ; Scott one hundred and thirty-three. To-morrow, 
it is believed Kentucky, Tennessee, Virginia, and one or two others will give 
Scott the nomination on the third or fourth ballot. The Northern Whigs 
gave way on the platform, with this understanding. If Scott is not nomina- 
ted, they will charge breach of faith on the South. The Webster men count 
on an accession of all the Fillmore votes, and vice versa. Both wUl probably 
be disappointed. 

* In the light of subsequent events, it is curious to read, in the Platform 
adopted by this convention, such words as these : "The series of acts of the 
thirty-second Congress, the Act known as the Fugitive Slave Law included, 
are r-eceived and acquiesced in by the Whig party of the United States, as a 
settlement in principle and substance of the dangerous aud exciting ques- 
tions which they ombraoo; and, so far as they are concerned, we will main- 
tain them, and insist upon their strict enforcement," etc., etc. Nine years 
later came the shock of civil war, rebellion, and the. end of the Fugitive 
Slave Law, to which Millard Fillmore was weak enough to put his signature. 


" A very hot discussion was liad between Messrs. Choate, Botts, Governor 
Jones, and Cabell, mainly personal, and upon Scott's position. Scott was tri- 
unipliauUy defended by Botts against Choate and Cabell. 

" The New York delegation are very indignant at the summai-y ejection of 
the New York Scott men, and if Scott is defeated by it, they will protest 
against tl»e action of the convention, and disavow its binding force. 

" In the Oswego district, Mr. Bruce, one of the two delegates, having gone 
home, appointed H. J. Raymond, of New York, in his place. Mr. Richardson, 
his colleague, denied his right to vote ; but the Committee on Credentials 
and the convention sustained Raymond's right to act for Bruce, and offset 
Richardson's vote, except when they agree, which is not likely too often. 

" The weather is cool, and good for active electioneering. 

" The Webster men are very active and lavish in canvassing. They will do 
their best. Scott's chances are still good." 

General Webb — actuated, as Raymond distinctly charged on 
the following Monday, partly by motives of personal malig- 
nity — immediately placed the message from Andrews in the 
hands of a Southern delegate, and then the long and bitter fight 

Mr. Duncan, of Louisiana, rose to a question of personal 
privilege and honor. He said : "I have just had placed in my 
hands, by a distinguished gentleman from Georgia [Mr. Daw- 
son] , because he is a little more hoarse than I am — the paper 
which I hold in my hand. If he had not been so enfeebled he 
would have felt it to be his duty to present the same thing to 
the house and the country. Among other things, it is stated 
that the New York delegation are indignant at the rejection of 
their claimants, and that, if Scott is defeated by it, they will 
protest against the action of the convention, and disavow its 
binding force." 

Applause and hisses here interrupted the speaker, and also 
cries of " Hear him ! " " Order ! " etc. 

Mr. Duncan continued, " When my honor is touched, hear 
me, and you shall ! " He then read, amid a tremendous uproar, 
the despatch from Andrews. 

When Mr. Duncan read the signature, various voices asked, 
"Who is he?" 

Mr. Duncan — "I appeal to every member of the committee 
on the Platform, whether there was such an infamous under- 
standing as this ? " 


Cries — "No!" "No!" "No!" 

Mr. Draper said — " Nobody believes it ! " 

Great confusion ensued ; many delegates talking, and several 
rising to their feet. Several voices cried — " Raymond wrote 
it ! " 

Mr. Duncan — "I don't know who wrote the statement. It is 
infamously false ; and, if I knew the author, I would throw it in 
his face!" 

Governor Johnston, of Pennsylvania, said — "lam well sat- 
isfied that there is no person in this convention who is more 
deeply sensible of the infliction of an injury on the feelings of 
the honorable gentleman from Louisiana than myself. I can 
say I was a member of the Committee on the Platform, and that 
it is entirely untrue that any ijroposition was made by southern 
or northern gentlemen, or Scott, or Fillmore men, in the form 
of a compromise in relation to either of the candidates. I do 
not say this because I am a friend of General Scott's, but the 
friend of the Whig party." [Applause, and cries of " Good ! "J 
" I will say fui'ther, there was not in the committee the slightest 
exhibition of unkind feeling, — none that could be called un- 
pleasant. I appeal to every gentleman on the committee, to say 
whether we did not meet as a band of brothers, to compare om' 
views on various subjects, and construct a platform which the 
great national Whig pai-ty could stand upon ; and I say now, as I 
did not wish to trouble the convention, because in some quar- 
ters I may rest under the shadow of a cloud, that if the same 
feeling which animated the delegates on that committee had 
prevailed in this convention, we should have had no siich scenes 
as have been exhibited here to-day, and the business which 
our credentials sent us here to perform would have been 
brought to a conclusion. I have no feelings in relation to the 
subject just brought to the notice of this convention. If it 
was designed in any form to afiisct the fortunes of cither of the 
distinguished gentlemen, Scott or Fillmore, I repudiate it, and 
so does every friend of Scott, as unjust to their candidate and 
themselves. I don't care who is the author." 

A voice — "It is a newspaper article, telegraphed back to 


Mr. Johnston continued : As the gentleman from Louisiana 
has said, it is false in all its particulars. I hope that there 
will be a better state of feeling, and I appeal to gentlemen on 
both sides, to act as they have heretofore acted, — as brothers 
of the same party, and not like those who are hostile to one 

Mr. Raymond rose to a question of privilege, amid loud 
cries of " Take him out ! " and " Order ! " 

Mr. Richardson (Raymond's colleague) was understopd to 
say : "If you sustain me, I will introduce a resolution that the 
nomination of this convention shall be supported by the whole 
of the New York delegation, or faint. I am a good Whig, — 
rule me out if you choose, but I beg to be heard. Gentlemen, 
in the name, of New York, although I am but one individual 
here, I ask that you will give me my rights. I represent the 
twenty-second district of New York." [Cries of "Order!" 
and " Go on ! "] 

Mr. Richardson — " We sat in union two days, and " — 

At this point the confusion became terrific ; delegates in 
every part of the hall jumping up, and shouting "Mr. Presi- 
dent ! " all wishing to say something. The New York delega- 
tion was in a ferment. ■ Many remarks were made; but what 
they were, it was impossible to tell. 

Mr. Raymond again rose to a question of privilege and per- 
sonal honor, amid deafening cries of " Order ! " 

llie chairman called to order, but the excitement grew more 

A delegate from Illinois explained that neither Mr. Rich- 
ardson nor Mr. Raymond was a regular delegate ; that the 
name of the authorized delegate had been stricken out of the 
credentials, and the name of Henry J. Raymond inserted ; and 
that tlie name of Mr. Raymond had been interlined in the doc- 
ument in a different handwriting from that of Mr. Bruce, who 
was the proper delegate. The speaker further contended, that 
the committee had -no evidence before th^m that Mr. Bruce 
was authorized, by the district convention which appointed 
him a delegate, to appoint a proxy, and therefore they took 


no action upon said proxy, believing that the question belonged 
exclusively to the decision of this convention. 

Mr. Watts, of Virginia, said he felt himself called upon, 
as chairman of the Committee on Credentials, to make a cor- 
rect statement of the pending case ; and, if his power of lan- 
guage would sustain him, he would do so. The morning on 
which he made his final report to the convention, and while 
the committee was engaged at its last sitting, the gentleman 
from Louisiana presented the paper just read. He then 
learned that on the previous evening, while he (Mr. Watts) 
was temporarily absent from the chair, the claim of Mr. Ray- 
mond to a seat in the convention was informally acted upon by 
the committee, and his name entered on the roll with those of 
New York, duly accredited as such. The credential paper 
presented by the gentleman from Louisiana was submitted to 
the consideration of the committee, and rejected by a vote of 
nearly two to one. In the report Mr. Eaymond was retained 
as a qualified member, and was therefore entitled to his seat. 
But, said Mr. Watts, looking behind that report, and regard- 
ing the question as an original one, I have said, and repeat 
again , that Mr. Eaymond is no more entitled to a seat in this 
convention, than I am to a seat in the Legislature of Cali- 

Mr. Vinton said the convention were engaged in executing 
the duty of selecting a presidential nominee, and that it was 
not in order to proceed with anything else. 

This common-sense proposition was finally agreed to, and 
the convention resumed its ballotings for the remainder of the 
day, without success. 

On Monday, June 21, the conflict over Mr. Eaymond was 
renewed, a formal motion was made for his expulsion from the 
convention, and the scene again became tempestuous. After 
the journal had been read, and some preliminary business 
transacted, and before the balloting began, Mr. E. Eenneau, 
delegate from the Atlanta district of Georgia, rose to a 
question of privilege. He said he held in his hand a news- 
paper edited by a member of the convention, in which a 
charge was made against the honor of other portions of this 


body, which demanded their attention. Three States were 
named in that paper, and a specific charge was made against 
them of having, by bargain or corruption, endeavored to secure 
from the Northern Whigs the adoption of a platform. Those 
three States were distinctly named, and then a general charge 
of the same character was also brousrht against all the Southern 
States. [Cries of "Eead it!" "Read it!" here arose, accom- 
panied by calls .of " No ! " "No ! " "Order ! " " Ballot ! " etc., etc.]. 
Mr. Renneau continued : "I propose to read that article, and 
although I wish to create no disturbance here, and to introduce 
no subject which can cause any, I still hope we shall not be 
prevented from examining this case a little. Has the day 
come, sir, when the representatives of a free people, assembled 
in convention, are to be charged with coiTupt bargaining and 
intrigue, when, if any one of them were guilty of such ccfli- 
duct, he ought to be expelled ? If any members of the South- 
ern delegations have been guilty of it, let them be known, that 
they may be branded by their constituents with the infamy 
they deserve." [Applause.] 

The Chair — " Will the gentleman state his motion " ? 

Mr. Eenneau — ■ " I understood I had the right to preface my 
motion with a few remarks. I will read my resolution. It is 
as follows : — 

" Whereas, Mr. H. J. Raymond, who holds a seat in this convention, by a 
questionable title ; and wliereas, he has accused its members of corruption 
and foul play ; and whereas it becomes them to disavow these chai'ges most 
unequivocally; therefore, be it 

" Besolved, That this convention will show to the country and the Whig 
party of the Union its emphatic denial of his imputation on its honor and 
sincerity, by depriving said Eaymond of his seat, and that the said Eaymond 
be and he is hereby expelled from this body." 

The preamble and resolution were received with applause 
and hisses. 

Mr. Eenneau continued : "I hope, sir, that this entire conven- 
tion will look at this resolution according to the merits of the 
subject in hand. The delegations from Kentucky, Tennessee, 
and Virginia, are specifically named as having entered into a 
bargain of this sort. That if the friends of General Scott 


would avow and sustain the Compromise they would then sup- 
port Scott. I have great respect for General Scott ; but when 
the integrity, honor, and patriotism of the delegates of three 
sovereign States are assailed, and held up to the country, and 
the delegates of other Southern States, though not specifically 
named, I, as a Southern delegate, feel that every delegate of 
Georgia, Louisiana, South Carolina, and other Southern States 
is charged with foul corruption and intrigue. We are not only 
"Whio-s, biit American citizens, and we hold our sound honor 
above all other considerations. I do not know Mr. Eaymond 
(having never seen him before I saw him here) , except as the 
editor of the New York Daily Times; but I never expected he 
would make such a charge against any of the delegates. K 
this resolution be adopted, I would sympathize with him ; but 
I»feel it is due to the whole South — to all Whigs — it is due 
to all, the candidates — it is due to Winfield Scott, that hero of 
many a well-fought battle — it is due to Mr. Fillmore — it is 
due to Mr. Webster — due to all, that this Mr. Eaymond be 
expelled, unless he can produce the names of those delegates 
who have committed this wrong, and sustain the charges. 
[Great applause.] I will read the article." 

[Mr. Eenneau then read Mr. Eaymond's despatch to the 
Times; but was frequently interrupted by laughter, and at its 
close he was greeted with a general laugh, cheers, and hisses.] 

Mr. Eenneau continued, by saying that this despatch had been 
sent by lightning. Uncle Sam's mail-wagons were too slow 
for it. He hoped the convention would take prompt action 
upon the subject. 

Mr. Cranston, of Ehode Island, rose immediately, and said 
that the thermometer was already too high to allow them to go 
into an investigation of newspaper paragraphs. He moved to 
lay the resolution on the table. 

[Cries of " No ! " " No ! " " Shame ! " " Let him be heard ! " 
"Eaymond ! " "Eaymond ! " etc., etc.] 

Mr. Eaymond appealed to the gentleman from Ehode Island 
to withdraw his motion, in order that he might be heard. 

Mr. Cranston said he would cheerfully withdraw his motion 
for the gentleman to explain, if the matter would stop there but 


it would not, — the whole day would be consumed in debating 
this matter. 

[Cries — " Never mind ! " " Vote it down ! " " He shall be 
heard!" etc., etc.] 

The question was then taken, and the motion was rejected by- 

Mr. Cranston demanded a vote by States upon the motion. 

Mr. Botts — " It is too late ; let Mr. Raymond be heard." 

The Chair decided that the motion to lay upon the table was 
lost, and that the call for a vote by States came too late. 

Mr. Raymond then spoke upon the resolution as follows : — ; 

"Profoundly as I regret that anything so comparatively unim- 
portant as my personal rights, and my claims to respect from 
my fellow-men, should be thrust upon this convention, to the 
delay of the important business before it, — every man of honor 
in this convention and out of it will certainly hold me excused 
for whatever delay may be necessary to allow me a hearing 
upon such a resolution as this. I do not ask you to reject the 
resolution ; but I do ask tlaat' you give me hearing. When 
that is concluded, it will be for the convention to say whether 
you reject it or not. To say that I am indiiferent to your 
action upon it would be to belie the ordinary feelings of human 
nature ; but I do say that I consider it infinitely more impor- 
tant to myself that I shoiild put myself right before the conven- 
vention, than that I should remain a member of it. All I ask, 
is what the great Athenian asked : ' Strike, but hear ! ' 

" There are just two points in this resolution to which I shall 
direct attention ; and the first is that which naturally comes 
first in order, — namely, my right to be here, or to speak here, 
at all." [Voices — "Waive that ! " "Skip it ! " " We are all satis- 
fied about that ! " " Go on ! " etc. J " If I could waive it and leave 
my character still sustained, I would gladly pass it without- 
another word. But the resolution pronounces my right to be 
here 'questionable,' and the accusation which that phrase im- 
plies has been too widely echoed within my hearing here to 
sufier me to pass it without remark. What I have to say, 
however, shall be said in the briefest terms. 


"I came to this convention as the Editor of the Daily Times, 
and upon business connected with that j)aper, and not as a dele- 
gate. On Thursday morning the second day of the session, 
the chairman of the New York delegation informed me that 
Mr. Bruce, one of the two delegates from the Twenty-Second 
Congressional District, had been compelled by sickness to 
leave for home ; that there were two delegates from this dis- 
trict, neither of whom could count its vote unless they were 
agreed, and that Mr. Bruce had left in his bands a blank proxy 
to be filled up with the name of any person whom he might 
designate. The blank had been filled twice already : first with 
the name of Ogdeu Hoffman, and then with that of George W. 
Blunt; but for some reason, to me unknown, both these gen- 
tlemen had declined to act, and the chairman asked permis- 
sion to insert my name, and that I would act as Mr. Bruce's 
substitute. That consent I gave, and the chairman inserted 
my name in that place, where it now stands in his own hand- 
writing. Doubting (as I still doubt) the right of either Mr. 
Bruce or the chairman thus to fill that vacancy, I submitted 
that certificate to the New York delegation for their action ; 
and as their minutes show, they confirmed the course adopted 
by their unanimous vote at one of their regular meetings. 
Still doubtful as to the course most proper to be pursued, and 
unwilling to exercise any doubtful right, I called your atten- 
tion, sir, as the presiding officer of this convention, to the 
subject ; and at your suggestion I laid it before the Committee 
on Credentials. At a late hour on Thursday night that com- 
mittee, as its chairman, Mr. Watts, of Virginia, has already 
stated, without even the formality of a vote, and with not a 
single dissenting voice, accepted the certificate as sufficient, 
and inserted my name in the list of regularly appointed dele- 
gates. That list was embodied in the majority report of that 
committee, and as such reported to, and endorsed by, this 
convention. And now, sir, there is another point to which I 
ask attention in connection with this matter. On Saturday, 
last, when my right to a seat was called in question, the dele- 
gate from Louisiana who filled the place of that State upon the 
Committee on Credentials (Mr. J. G. Sevier) , rose upon thi? 


floor, in this aisle, aiad said that he had in his hands a paper 
which would put this matter right, and show -clearly how the 
case stood. It was, he said, signed as the report of a large ma- 
jority of the members of that committee ; and it declared 
that I had no right — " 

Mr. Sevier — " I rise to a question of privilege. I said no 
such thing ; and all the newspapers have misrepresented me. 
I only said that the paper was signed by a number of the mem- 
bers of the committee." 

Mr. Eaymond — "I repeat, sir, that the delegate from 
Louisiana did assert that it was the report of a large majority 
of that committee, adopted and signed by them as such. I as- 
sert this, sir, from my own distinct recollection, as well as 
from other evidence." 

Mr. Sevier — "I call the gentleman to order. I said no such 

Mr. Eaymond — "I refer, in corroboration of my statement 
on this subject, to the plain consideration, that unless the 
paper was presented as the report of the majority, the gentle- 
man's assertion that it would ' put the matter right ' was an 
absurdity ; as it could have no weight at all upon that point. 
And I refer to the additional fact that the chairman of the 
committee, Mr. Watts, rose immediately afterwards, and said 
distinctly, that ' this identical paper, presented by the gentle- 
man from Louisiana, instead of being adopted,^ as the delegate 
from Louisiana had asserted, ' was rejected in committee by a 
vote of nearly two to one.'" 

Mr. Watts — " Will the gentleman allow me to correct him ? 
I did not use the words, 'as the delegate from Louisiana had 
asserted.' " 

Mr. Eaymond — "No, sir; nor do I wish to be understood 
as imputing those words to the chairman of the committee. 
But he did say that ' this report, instead of being adopted, was 
presented in committee and rejected; ' and I add, as my own 
inference, that this language already implies, that the delegate 
from Louisiana had asserted that the report was adopted. 
And the only object I have, in thus alluding to the matter now, 
is to show that in spite of his present denial, the delegate 


from Louisiana (Mr. Sevier) did assert what he knew, an(f 
what was instantly prored to be untrue. 

"And now, sir, I come to the second point, — the gist of the 
resohition before the convention. The gentleman from Geor- 
gia (Mr. Eenneau) has laid me under special obligations by 
reading the whole of the article in the Daily Times, on the 
strength of which it is proposed to expel me from this conven- 
tion. I am the more anxious to express to him my thanks for 
this, inasmuch as the other gentleman, who figured in this 
affair on Saturday, Mr. Duncan, of Louisiana, thought proper 
to stop short of this act of simple justice, and to read only so 
much of it as promised to answer his special purpose. I de- 
sire it to be understood, in the first place, that this matter was 
brought to the notice of this convention through the agency of 
James "Watson Webb, partly for political purposes, and partly 
from motives of personal malignity towards me ; so base and 
dishonorable in their grounds that he dare not authorize any 
one to avow them upon this floor." 

Mr. Eenneau — " The despatch was not addressed to Webb. 
It was addressed to the Hon. Moses H. Grinnell." [Cries of 
" No ! " " No ! " — " To -the" cave of James Watson Webb."] 

Mr. Eaymond — "If the gentleinan from Louisiana, Mr. 
Duncan, by whom that despatch was presented to the House on 
Saturday, has it in his possession, he will oblige me by hand- 
ing it to me." 

Mr. Duncan — "I handed it to the distinguished gentleman 
from Georgia (Senator Dawson), from whom I received it; 
and I regret to learn from him that he has left it at his room. 
I believe, however, that it ^as addressed to James Watson 
'W&Wand Moses II. Grinnell." 

Mr. Grinnell rose, and said that he knew nothing about the 
despatch. He had never seen it until it had been shown upon 
this floor to a number of persons. It WO'S a matter which he 
knew nothing whatever about. The despatch was not ad- 
dressed to him. 

Mr. Ashmun, of Massachusetts, said that he was, perhaps, 
the means of this despatch having at first been brought before 
the convention. He saw it in the hands of Mr. Webb, and, 


after reading it, thought its statements so extraordinary that it 
ought to be shown to those inculpated in the charge. He had, 
therefore, obtained Mr. Webb's permission to place it in the 
hands of Mr. Dawson, of Georgia. As to its subsequent dis- 
position, he knew nothing about it. 

Mr. Eaymond — "Very well. My statement was that the 
despatch was addressed to James Watson Webb, and by him 
brought to the notice of this convention ; and that, too, from 
motives partly political, but mainly of personal malignity 
towards me. And that is sustained to the letter." 

Mr. Sevier — " I call the gentleman to order. [Hisses and 
applause.] We do not sit here for gentlerden to settle their 
private differences. [Hisses and cheers. J 

Mr. Raymond — "I am aware that this is a matter entirely 
persona] to Mr. Webb and myself ; and declaring my willing- 
ness to meet the responsibility of the issue I have raised with 
him, I shall not trouble the convention with any further refer- 
ence to it." 

The President — " The gentleman from New York wiU please 
to confine himself to the question." 

Mr. Eaymond — "Certainly, sir; I intend to do so. The 
article, of which complaint is made, was published in the Daily 
Times of Saturday morning, and was sent from this city at a 
late hour on Friday night ; the platform having been adopted 
in convention on Friday afternoon. The only part of the de- 
spatch which is held up here as involving the damnatory charge 
of bargain and corruption, to which gentlemen on this floor are 
so naturally and so justly sensitive, is this : — 

" To-morrow, it is believed, Kentucky, Tennessee, Virginia, and one or two 
others, will give Scott the nomination on the third or fourth ballot. The 
ITorthern Whigs gave way on the platform with this understanding." 

"Now, sir, the only possible way in which the faintest shadow 
of excuse can be found, or framed for construing this into a 
charge of corruption, is by considering the word understanding 
to mean bargain. And yet, such a construction of that word, 
as used in this connection, is so violent, so palpably opposed to 
the evident intent and meaning of the paragraph, that even the 


ingenuity and eloquence of the gentleman from Georgia cannot 
make it plausible for a single moment. Moreover, sir, even if 
the word was susceptible of such a construction, the phrase by 
which the whole subject is introduced — 'it is believed' — 
shows clearly that I was not stating a fact, that I was not 
asserting, of my own knowledge or upon authority, that any 
such bargain was made, or any such understanding had. It is 
impossible, sir, for any man of common sense, uninfluenced by 
passion, to derive any such meaning from the paragraph, or to 
regard it as implicating any man, or any body of men, in any 
.such charge. And so far as such a charge is concerned; so 
far as the imputation of any such bargain as a matter of fact is 
supposed, or suspected to be implied, I wish to relieve it and 
myself, and all concerned, from every possible taint, by declar- 
ing that no such thought was for an instant present to mymiud; 
and that I did not intend to convey any such idea. I disclaim 

— I disavow and repudiate, utterly and entirely, in the strong- 
est language I can use, all thought or intent of making any 
such charge, or imputing any such bargain to any committee, 
to any delegation, to any member, or to any man on the face 
of the earth. This disclaimer I desire to apply to the w^hole 
paragraph, so far as it has been, or can be, supposed to assert 
any matter oi fact. The paragraph was simply the expression 
of an opinion — formed and expressed for myself, — an opinion 
which, whether right or wrong, I had a right to form, and a 
right to utter, through any channel open to me, — an opinion 
which I believed just then, — and which I believe just now, — 
and which, as this convention happens to be open to me now, 
I shall not hesitate to reaffirm and proclaim, in all its length 
and breadth, at any hazard of dissent, or even of expulsion 
on the part of this convention. I asserted then, and assert 
now, that in giving way as they did, upon the platform, 

— in conceding, as they did to their brethren of the South, 
an important position, and which you know, as well as I 
know, was, and still is, quite as dear to them as your posi- 
tion and your principle can be to you, — the northern AYliigs 
did it in the belief, and with the expectation, that they 
would be met in a similar spirit of concession and conciliation 


by the Whigs of the South. They did it with this understand- 
ing on their part. And if they had proved to be mistaken, — 
if after all that had been done and said and seen in this con- 
vention, — if after the South had carried every vote but one 
against the North — after the whole business of this conven- 
tion had been planned and its whole character shaped by a ma- 
jority of States as such, instead of the majority of numbers — 
after the important amendment of the gentleman from Pennsyl- 
vania (Judge Jessup) , securing to the democracy of numbers, 
so much distrusted by the senator .from Georgia (Judge Daw- 
son) , its proper consideration and weight, had been carried by 
a decisive vote — after the Whigs of the North had voluntarily 
receded from this position and surrendered their part which they 
had gained, and which was justly theirs — after they had with- 
drawn that amendment and handed back the supreme power to 
the oligarchy of States for the sole purpose of promoting har- 
mony and conciliating their southern brethren, — if after all this 
— and especially, if after they had gone still further and con- 
ceded the platform dictated by the South, repugnant as it is, 
and as you know it is, to their principles and their feelings, — 
if after having done all this for the sake of promoting harmony 
in the party and securing to it unity of feeling and of action, 
you of the South had not met them in a similar spirit, and con- 
ceded to them the poor boon of the candidate of their choice, 
I tell you now, that you would have been exposed to the 
charge of bad faith; you would justly incur the imputation 
of demanding for yourselves what you will not concede to 
others ; you would have failed in the duty which Whigs of 
one section owe to Whigs of every other ; — and as one Whig 
of the North, at all events, I would charge you here and every- 
where with a breach of that ' good faith ' which you owe to 
us, and which your own honor demands that you should pre- 
serve inviolate." [Cheers.] " K that be treason or slander — if 
that deserve expulsion — majce the most of it!" [Loud cheers 
and applause.] 

Mr. Duncan — " That may do ; but we want explanations as to 

the other part." 

Mr. Eaymond — "You shall have, sir, whatever you desire; 


and if you, or any other gentleman, wish for explanations 
upon any other point, it shall be forthcoming." 

Mr. Cabell, of Florida — " I ask the gentleman to go on with 
the article, and give us some explanation as to the latter part 
of it. He thefe charges that the New York delegates were 
admitted by fraud on the part of this convention ; and says 
that if Scott is not nominated, the New York delegation would 
repudiate the action of the convention." [Cries of " Oh ! Oh ! "] 
"I wish some explanation upon that point." 

Mr. Eaymond — " You sliall have it, sir. But, in the first 
place, the assertion that I have charged fraud upon this con- 
vention, in the rejection of the New York delegates, is untrue ; 
and its untruth is so bold and palpable, that the gentleman 
from Florida should not have allowed himself to utter it, 
especially as the whole article had just been read in his hear- 
ing." [Cries of " Order ! " " Order ! " cheers and hisses.] 

Mr. Cabell — "Does the gentleman — Sir, I cannot, I shall 
not submit to language of this kind." [Cries of " Order ! " 
cheers, etc.] "Sir, is it possible that such language is to be 
indulged in here ? The chair must enforce the rules. But I 
ask no protection from this convention ; I can and will protect 
myself. I said that I understood that fraud was charged upon 
the convention." 

Mr. Eaymond — "It is not true, sir. No such charge was 

Mr. Cabell — "I ask the gentleman to read it." 

Mr. Eaymond — " The gentleman can read it for himself, sir. 
He might complain of omissions if I were to read it." [Cheers, 

Mr. Cabell — " Will the gentleman please hand me the paper?" 

Mr. Eaymond — " There is another copy of the paper in the 
gentleman's vicinity of the house. I prefer to retain this in 
my own possession." [Cries of " Good ! " " Order ! " cheers, etc.] 

The President said he had heard no remark reflecting person- 
ally upon Mr. Cabell. 

Mr. Cabell — "I am not to be charged by implication with 
making a false statement. I did not see the paper ; I only 
spoke from what 1 had heard said of its contents." 


Mr. Eaymond — " The gentleman said that I had charged 
fraud upon this convention in the admission of the New York 
delegates. I spoke of this as an untruth, which was the less 
excusable, as the paper had just been read. The gentleman 
says he will not submit to language of this kind. Permit me 
to tell the gentleman from Florida, that when he puts words 
into my mouth which I have not used, for the purpose of 
founding an accusation upon me, he will submit to whatever 
language I may see fit to use, in repelling his aspersions." 
[Loud applause, cheers, cries of "Order !" " Order !" and gen- 
eral confusion.] 

Mr. Cabell — "I admit, most cheerfully, the right of every 
gentleman, when charged with uttering falsehood, to submit or 
defend himself. I have already stated that I . did not see the 
paper, and that I spoke only of its contents as I had heard 
them mentioned. It was on the presumption that the word 
fraud was used, that I spoke as I did." 

Mr. Raymond — "I accept, as entirely satisfactory, the ex- 
planation of the manner in which the gentleman was led into 
what seems to have been only a misunderstanding on his part. 
But he must allow me to say, that he ought not to interfere in 
a controversy in which he is not personally concerned, without 
an accurate understanding of the subject in hand. It will be 
noted that the words 'breach of faith' were not used in regard 
to the admission of the New York delegates, but of another 
subject, which has been already explained." 

Mr. Langdon, of Alabama — " Let us hear about the New 
York ]Drotest." 

Mr. Eaymond — "In regard to that matter, sir, I am ready to 
make just as full explanation as this convention desires to hear. 
That is a matter which concerns, in the first place, my own 
accuracy in regard to the statement made ; and upon that 
point I do not think it worth while to trouble the convention 
further ; and in the next place, it concerns .the New York dele- 
o-ation alone. I have to say that the delegation took no action, 
so far as I know, in regard to that matter. And after this 
general statement, if any member of that delegation desires 
further remark, he shall have it. If not, I shall relieve the 


conventioii of auy further trouble upon this subject, and leave 
them to act at once upon the resolution for my expulsion." 

Mr. Williams, of Kentucky, moved to lay the resolution 
upon the table, which was carried by acclamation; and, so far 
as appeared, without opposition. 

Mr. Eaymond, however, had a habit of finishing any task he 
■ undertook, and in a " Note " to the full report of the debate in 
the Times,, he finished the controversy and Mr. George H. 
Andrews, in the following fashion : — 

" Mr. Andrews, in his anxiety to give the ' exact words,' entirely omits the 
very important words, 'To-morrow, it is believed,' which plainly show that our 
publication did not intend to assert any negotiation, or arrangement, or 
agreement whatever, but simply an expectation, founded on a supposed spirit 
of conciliation. And he also omits the important words ' by it,' which give 
the whole character to our remark about the indignation of New York Scott 
men at the rejection of their delegates. If the nomination of Scott had been 
defeated by that extraordinary rejection, their indignation should have been 
as lasting as it was just." 

Considered in all its aspects, the result of this conflict was a 
decided triumph for Mr. Raymond. The warfare upon him 
originated in a difference of opinion between himself and James 
Watson Webb on the question of slavery ; but Raymond be- 
came a leader of the Free Soil party, and Webb's influence 
rapidly waned. The " personal malignity," to which Raymond 
was subjected, followed him to Baltimore, and produced a tre- 
mendous explosion ; but he escaped injury. In his jaerson, 
the South attacked free institutions ; but the South was defeated. 
He was put Upon his mettle, at a time when to be an "Aboli- 
tionist " was to encounter obloquy and danger ; but he dis- 
played ability and courage which bore down the enemies 
arrayed against him. He was pitted against the trained and 
polished debaters of the South ; but he proved himself their 
master in the skill of fence. As an editor, also, he displayed 
the quick perception, the correct judgment, and the careful 
precision, which are the qualities most essential to the con- 
ductor of a public journal ; and his combat was a great help to 
the Times. 

Colonel T. B. Thorpe, of New York, has ^vi-itten a lively 


account of the scene in the convention, derived from the pei'son- 
al observation of a Southern delegate. It is worth preservation. 

" 'In the year 1853,' writes Colonel Thorpe,* 'I was payinga visit to Judge 
John Moore at his house, in the parish of St. Mary, Louisiana. The Judge 
was a pioneer of the State, one of the most substantial citizens, an ex mem- 
ber of Congress, and an ardent admirer of Mr. Clay. -Among many subjects 
discussed during the evening was that of the personal and moral courage of 
Northern and Southern men ; and the Judge illustrated his conversation with 
many anecdotes of desperate encounters which had occurred under his obser- 
vation, including duels and rough fights, the result of sudden unbridled pas- 
sion. Perceiving that I was interested, he gave me the details of several 
fights of desperadoes, and of the coolness displayed by refined gentlemen on 
the " field of honor," his heroes being, without an exception, " Southern 

" ' But,' said he, finally, evidently intending to end the conversation so far 
as the unpleasant subject under consideration was concerned, — 'the first 
perfect specimen of real, genuine courage I ever witnessed was displayed by 
a Northern man last year at the Baltimore Whig Convention. This man, 
strange as it may appear, was' a Yankee, of rather small stature, college-bred, 
and of a high intellectual character; and this man showed more true courage 
— moral and physical — than I ever witnessed elsewhere in all my experi- 

"With a great deal of curiosity, I asked who the person was. He replied, 
' A young man attached to the New York press, and identified, I understood, 
with Greeley and the ultra-Abolitionists. He came to the convention as re- 
porter, but it was proposed to make hini a member to fill an unexpected va- 
cancy, and the majority of our (Southern) members took umbrage at it and 
determined to keep him out. I did not approve of the intention, nor the 
manner in which it was to be done ; but I was powerless to oppose, and so 
said nothing about it, presuming from the obnoxious gentleman's appearance 
that a few words of objection would put an end to the proposition. When 
the proper time came, a motion was made to admit the gentleman a member 
of the convention; and I was myself surprised at the opposition the motion 
called forth, — it acted like a spark of fire on a body of tinder. Cabell, of 
Florida, a veteran debater, distinguished for his reckless physical courage 
and sharp tongue, had volunteered to make a speech against "the Abolition- 
ist," and he opened with a degree of bitterness that was unparalleled in any 
body governed by parlimentary rules, and he was in the mean time supported 
and cheered on by apparently a large majority of the house. The gentleman 
assailed, who had an almost boyish appearance, kept his feet (for Cabell spoke 
against his having the privilege of a personal defence), and with fixed eye 
watched the Floridian as he went on with his unqualified denunciations, made 
up almost entirely of personalities. Several gentlemen sprang to their feet, 
intending to enter the fight, but the more they looked at the object of the 
attack the more he appeared capable of taking care of himself. Two or thivo 
times Cabell stopped, perfectly infuriated at the unexpected coolness and 

* In a letter to the New York Evening Mail. 


self-possession of his supposed victim, but the moment he commenced his 
defence, Cabell would begin again, each time egged on by those who 
sympathized with his intention, namely, to put " the Abolitionist down." This 
struggle continued for nearly three long hours, but when it did end, the as- 
sailed had the attention of the convention. His calmness, self-possession, 
and patience were eloquent in his behalf, and many of Cabell's warmest sup- 
porters at first, while they admitted that all he (Cabell) had said was true, 
still they contended that the assailed man was entitled to a hearing.- 

" ' At last, the then (except in his own locality) unknown Henry J. Ray- 
mond commenced a defence of his position, and satisfied, in a few moments, 
every logical mind within his hearing of the propriety of his right to the seat 
made vacant by the unavoidable absence of Gen. Bruce. Had he stopped 
here, his political status would have been secured; but he demanded more 
than this. Changing his voice, and turning upon Cabell, he opened upon that 
gentleman with a speech that was full of argument, wit, and burning sarcasm. 
He denounced what he called the fashion of certain Southern men to bully 
Northern representatives in Congress and in national conventions, carrying 
their points by overbearing insolence and threats of personal injury. He 
shook his finger at Cabell, and said that he defied this cowardly and unmanly 
practice, and that he had determined for all time to yield everything to cour- 
tesy, reason, and brotherhood, but nothing to threats or intimidation. He 
then turned upon the North, and demanded to know why its public men were 
so frequently put in a false position by allowing themselves to be crowded to 
the wall by such creatures as the man who had that day assailed him, and 
through him the free state of sentiment of the entire country.' 

" The Judge said the speech annihilated Cabell, not only In the convention, 
but he never got rid of its damaging efl'ects when he got home. This display, 
concluded the Judge, who could command no language to do his feelings jus- 
tice, ' was the finest specimen of the true, moral, and physical courage I ever 
witnessed,' and he added : ' when all Northern public men take this young 
Kaymond's position, it will be better for the North, the South, and the conn- 
try'at large, and we will add, that, if they had done so, slavery would have 
been extinguished upon the field of the forum, instead of the battle-field, — 
reason, and not the sword, woiHd have decided the conflict.' " 

Another interesting reminiscence was published in the . Al- 
bany Evening Journal after the death of Mr. Eaymond, and 
from this account also we transcribe a few passages : — 

"During the progress of the convention — which was divided up into 
Scott, Fillmore and Webster factions — the Scott men found themselves with- 
out a ready debater, able to cope with the trained experts from the South, 
who, as usual, were provokingly insolent and overbearing. To meet this de- 
ficiency, it was arranged that Mr. Raymond should take the seat occupied by 
General Bruce. Tliis proposition Aiet with opposition, and the excitement 
was intensified when, subsequently, it was seriously proposed to expel him 
from the l)ody. On this impudent proposition, and others of kindred spirit, 
Mr. liaymond bore himself with becoming calmness and dignity. Buthis real 


power and fearlessness were most conspicuously developed at a later stage of 
the proceedings, when he was personally arraigned for a statement embodied 
in a telegram which he had sent to the Times. Mr. Cabell, a ready debater 
from the State of Florida, was his chief assailant. His manner was of the 
highest type of Southern insolence. Mr. Raymond responded with a dignity 
and firmness which excited the admiration of his friends, and greatly pro- 
volied the pro-slavery delegates. His calm demeanor was met by bluster and 
threats ; but he held his ground unmoved, meeting every argument with irre- 
sistible and overwhelming logic, and every threat with a- calm defiance, 
wholly new to the 'chivalry,' but which foreshadowed the inflexible resolu- 
tion, courage, and purpose, which found full and triumphant development in 
after years. His bearing seemed to those who witnessed it, and who were in 
sympathy with him, not merely grand, but sublime. It excited the intensest 
enthusiasm ; and when the excitement was at its highest, if any Southern bra- 
vado had so much as lifted his finger in violence, the physical strength as 
well as the moral courage of the representatives of the North would have 
been made fearfully manifest. 

"Fortunately, whatever may have been their original purpose, the Southern 
delegates and their boisterous claquers confined their demonstrations to 
words and hisses; and, after a protracted and stormy discussion, Mr. Ray- 
mond achieved the victory and the 'chivalry' met with their first serious 
defeat in a National Whig Convention. 

" It is only by the light of all that has since transpired that we can appre- 
ciate the significance of what was said and done upon that occasion. From 
that hour the Whig Party assumed a new character, and its representatives 
(with a few disgraceful exceptions) a bolder attitude in the press, ou the 
stump, and in the halls of legislation. Mr. Raymond's clarion voice, upon 
that memorable occasion, sounded the opening' notes in the death-knell of 
slavery, and definitely initiated the movement which has ultimated in the 
complete triumph of the principles for which he then so fearlessly and so 
eloquently contended. 

"We revive this incident, not merely to do honor to the memory of the la- 
mented dead, but to remind the living that courage was as necessary to throw 
oflf the infiuence of the slave power in our political national councils, as it 
was to overcome its physical prowess upon the battle-field. And to further 
remind those who are all too willing to forget, that equal honors are due to 
the heroic men who began the struggle against slavery, while it was in the 
full vigor of lusty life, as to those who had the fortune aud the honor to 
strike the blow which effected its overthrow and death." 







Twice a champion, — the champion of Hungary against its 
enemies in the American Press, and of Freedom against the as- 
saults of the Slave Power in a National Convention, — Mr. 
Ea.ymond had now became widely known beyond the limits of 
his profession. He had proved his readiness and skill in public 
debate ; he had shown his antagonists that, in a fair field and 
with open lists, he could wield a lance as bravely as the best, 
and strike with the strongest ; he had convinced his profes- 
sional rivals that he was able to hold his own. But the Times 
needed his care, and to it he determined to devote his time, 
his energy, and his skill. 

Mr. Raymond said to the writer, and to others, in the year 
1852, that he had fully resolved to abandon political life, for 
the broader and better field of Journalism ; believing the of- 
fice of an Editor to be more honorable and more influential than 
any place which could be bestowed by party. For two years 
he adhered strictly to this resolution. It was the great mis- 
fortune of his life that he afterwards yielded to seductive temp- 
tation ; forgetting his earlier and better purpose in the pursuit 
of political preferment. Had Raymond remained a journalist, 
untouched by the corrupting influences of party chicanery, and 
unsullied by evil association, the record of his life would have 
had no deep shadows. 









a M 

i O 


«■ 3) 


I ^ 
ff > 

s w 











ETC. 143 

In 1852, the space added to the Times, by doubUng its size, 
gave Mr. Raymond ample opportunity to make a good news- 
paper. Some of the best -writers of the day became regular 
contributors ; bright wits sent sparkling papers ; new men 
were introduced into the staff of editors ; cost was not counted 
when a good article was to be secured ; and the Times became 
the best family paper ever published iu New York. Four 
writers, whose productions appeared regularly in the columns*)f 
the Times, in the course of this second year, are now dead ; but 
their effusions live, and, if collected and edited, they would form 
au interesting volume. One of these contributors was Charles 
C. B. Seymour, — a young Englishman, who was subsequently 
the musical and dramatic critic of the Times, and died while 
holding that position. Another was Fitz-James O'Brien, an 
Irishman who was absurdly ashamed of his Irish birth, but who 
was one of the most brilliant of all the brilliant brotherhood of 
the Bohemians of New York at that day. He wa,s killed in 
Virginia in the first year of the Civil War, while acting as aide- 
de-camp to the late General Lander. Another was Dr. Frank 
Tuthill, a Long Island man, from the "East End," who had 
taken up his residence in New York to practise medicine, and, 
while waiting for patients who did not come, amused his leisure 
by writing quaint papers on rural and domestic topics for the 
Times. The vein of quiet humor and the uniform good sense 
which characterized these productions especially attracted Ray- 
mond's attention. An offer of an editorial position in the 
Times office was soon made to Dr. Tuthill, and accepted. He 
remained in the service of the paper for several years, and 
then went to California, by invitation of Mr. Simonton, to take 
charge of the San Francisco Bulletin. Subsequently he be- 
came proprietor of a part of the Bulletin, but ill-health com- 
pelled him to relinquish his duties. After a brief visit to the 
South of Europe, he returned to New York, and died soon 
afterwards in Brooklyn. The foiirth, Charles Welden, wrote a 
series of charming papers, under the name of "The City Hall 
Bell-Ringer," which were remarkable for their play of pleas- 
ant fancy and the piquancy of their style. "Welden died 
suddenly a few years ago. 


Later, Charles F. Briggs, well known as " Harry Franco," 
joined the Times, and with him were associated William 
Henry Hurlburt, E. L. Godkiu, and William G. Sewell. Mr. 
Sewell was the author of the excellent book entitled "The 
Ordeal of Free Labor in the West Indies." R. J. De Cordova, 
since a popular lecturer on humorous subjects, was also en- 
gaged upon the paper for a short time ; and Mr. Edward 
Seymour and others were added to the editorial force from 
time to time.* Down to the year 1857, few who had been 
employed by Raymond yielded to any temptations to leave his 
■service ; and continual additions were made. Since that date, 
many changes have occurred, of which this is not the place to 

In 1854, Raymond again lapsed into politics. For a time, the 
agitation which followed the passage of the Nebraska-Kansas 
bill by Congress had enlisted only the pen which directed the 
course of the Times; but the party with which Raymond 
acted soon clamorously demanded his personal services. His 
political ambition was again aroused, and, in the summer of 
1854, he took his seat in the Anti-Nebraska State Convention, 
at Saratoga Springs, as a delegate from the district which he 
had already twice represented in the Assembly. 

The action of the Saratoga Convention was not final. Much 
was left to be decided by circumstances ; and the events of the 
campaign led to the calling of an Anti-Nebraska Nominat- 
ing Convention, which met at Auburn a few weeks later. The 
regular Whig State Convention, however, had met in the inter- 
val between the conventions at Saratoga and Auburn, and had 
unanimously nominated Myron H. Clark for governor, and iSIr. 
Raymond for lieutenant-governor. The Anti-Nebraska Con- 
vention accepted these nominations ; and the State Temper- 
ance Convention immediately afterwards pursued a similar 
course. Mr. Raymond was therefore again launched into 
political life ; and, strengthened by three separate and unanl- 

* A singular fatality seems to have atteudecl the men who were identifled 
with the earliest liistory of the Times. Of the whole number, Raymond and 
Seymour and O'Brien, Palmer and Tuthill, Welden and Sewell, have de- 
parted ; — seven in all. All, too, died young. 


mous nominations, he saw that his election to office had once 
more been secured. He accepted, and was elected by a hand- 
some majority over his Democratic and " Native American " 
opponents. The "Know Nothing " candidate for the lieuten- 
ant-governorship, beaten by Mr. Kaymond, was General Gus- 
tavus Adolphus Scroggs. Eaymond's vote in the State ex- 
ceeded that given for Clark, the successful candidate for the 
governorship. Eaymond received 157,079 votes; and Clark, 
156,770. Eaymond thus ran ahead of his ticket by 309 votes. 
The contest, however, was close ; Clark obtaining a majority 
of only 313 over Horatio Seymour. 

In January, 1855, at the opening of the session of the new 
Legislature, Mr. Eaymond took his seat as presiding officer of 
the State Senate, and delivered the following brief address : — 

" Senators : — In the discharge of the constitutional functions of the oflice 
to which I have been elected, I am present to preside over the deliberations 
of this branch of the State Legislature. I am profoundly sensible of the dig- 
nity and responsibility of the position I am called to fill, and of the extent 
to which I shall need your indulgence in the execution of its trusts. My 
task will not be difficult ; for it is only to direct your attention to the provi- 
sions of those rules which you will adopt for your own government in the 
prosecution of your labors. I shall endeavor to secure the practical applica- 
tion of these I'ules with promptitude, with exactness, and with entire impar- 
tiality. I solicit, senators, your generous confidence in the sincerity and 
uprightness of my intentions, your aid in the performance of my duties, and 
your kind consideration to the errors I may commit. 

" The Senate is now in order for the transaction of business." 

At the end of the session he returned to New York, to re- 
sume the charge of the Times. His term of office as Lieuten- 
ant-Governor expired in 1857 ; but in the interval he had de- 
clined a nomination for the governorship of New York, and 
had become celebrated for his participation in national affairs. 

In August, 1856, Senator E. M. Madden addressed to Mr. 
Eaymond a letter, requesting permission to present his name 
to the convention which was to meet in the following Septem- 
ber, for the nomination for Governor. Mr. Eaymond sent this 
reply : — 

" New York, Sunday, Aug. 30, 1856. 
'• My deak Madden : — I am under great obligations to you for the very 
kind manner in which you speak of me in your favor of the 28th, tjsWcB 


have jnst received, and feel highly complimented by its expressions of politi- 
cal partiality. 

"I shall not afltect any distaste for the honors, the associations, and the 
duties of public life, nor deprecate the opportunities it affords for promoting 
cherished principles and advancing measures deemed essential for the public 
good. Like all other spheres of useful labor, it has its drawbacks ; but, in 
spite of them all, it has attractions to which few are insensible. 

" The prospect, moreover, of renewing for another year the acquaintances 
and associations in the Senate, which I found so agreeable last winter, would, 
of itself, be for me a strong inducement for desiring a re-election to my pres- 
ent office. But other considerations — personal, domestic, and professional 
— outweigh even this, and constrain me to decline being a candidate, under 
any circumstances, for any official position whatever in the coming canvass. 

"Even if I had no other reason for this determination, I should find a suffi- 
cient motive in the desire to remove whatever obstacle even my name might 
oflor to the perfect harmony of the movement against the aggressions and 
usurpations of slavery. Nothing can be nobler than the courage and inde- 
pendence with which your old associates in the Democratic ranks are break- 
ing the bonds which that interest fastened upon the party at Cincinnati. They 
are proving themselves disciples of Jefferson, by acting in defiance of party 
ties, upon the principles which he professed. I am confident that they will 
far outweigh in numbers, as in influence, those old Whigs whose subservience 
to slavery destroyed the party with which they were formerly allied, as it 
will that which has now adopted them for its leaders. 

"We have been fortunate even beyond expectation in a candidate for the 
Presidency. I, trust that we shall be equally wise and equally fortunate in 
selecting for the State officers to be chosen this fall, men of high character, 
firm principles, and a strong hold on the confidence and respect of the whole 

" I am, very truly, your friend and servant, 

"Henky J. Eaymond. 

"Hon. E. M. Madden." 

The history of the Pittsburg Couvention of 1856, and of the 
share talien by Mr. Eaymond in the formal organization of the 
Eepublican party in the United States, is narrated in the ensu- 
ing chapter. 





The Eepublican party of the United States was born at 
Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, in February, 1856. Its godfather was 
Henry J. Eaymond, — for the Address to the People which 
defined the purpose of the new organization, and established 
the foundations of the party, was his work ; and the fact is val- 
uable to history. The Eepublican party was the culmination 
of the long and bitter struggle of the Free-Soilers against the 
encroachments of the Slave Power. The agitation begun by 
William Lloyd Garrison a generation before, widening in its 
reach until it had spread from Massachusetts through the whole 
of the North, had touched the springs of national legislation, 
had convulsed the Union, had maddened the South, and had 
drenched the soil of Kansas with blood. The issue had at last 
been fairly made, and the struggle for absolute mastery had 
begun. Eaymond was one of the earliest to see that the time 
was ripe for a decided expression by the Free States ; that a 
new political party, pledged to the maintenance of territorial 
rights, but not identified with the so-called" Abolitionism " of 
the day, would gather to it elements of strength. The Kansas 
feud had aroused a bitter feeling, for which the South had only 
itself to blame. The Free-Soil men planted themselves firmly 
upon the ground of equal rights in all the territories of the 
United States, and the scenes of violence enacted upon the 


border fired them to zeal and courage. Out of this feeling grew 
the reaction which found tangible form and adequate expression 
in the action of the Pittsburg Convention of 1856. 

The " Pittsburg Address "' is reproduced entire in the Appen- 
dix to this volume,* because it is the history of a remarkable 
movement, — a movement that resulted in the establishment of 
the great party which twice elected Lincoln, which fought the 
"War for Freedom to a successful termination, and which. placed 
Grant, the hero of the conflict, in the Presidential chair. The 
convention met in Pittsburg on Washington's Birthday. Its 
function was formative — not final. The delegates who took 
their seats at the opening of the proceedings had not assembled 
from all parts of the Free States to nominate a candidate for the 
Presidency ; but to consult together as to the best methods of 
practical organization. The choice of a standard-bearer was left 
to another convention, which was finally appointed to be held 
in Philadelphia in the following June. The basis of action for 
the nominating convention, as well as for the new party and 
all its members, was de&ied, sharply and logically, in the Ad- 
dress submitted by Mr. Eaymond. 

The Address opened with a statement that the convention 
was composed of representatives of the people in various sec- 
tions of the Union, who had assembled to consult upon the 
political evils by which the country was menaced, and the 
political action by which those evils might be averted. It then 
declared the fixed and unalterable devotion of all the dele- 
gates, then and there assembled, to the Constitution of the 
United States, and the ends for which it was established, and 
to the means by which it provided for their attainment. It 
also avowed an ardent and unshaken attachment to the Union, 
and abjured all prejudices of geographical division, local inter- 
est, or narrow and sectional feeling ; but insisted upon the 
right of all the people to the inheritance of equal rights, priv- 
ileges, and liberties. Holding these opinions, and animated by 
these sentiments, the convention, adopting the Address, de- 
clared its conviction that the government of the United States 

♦ See Appendix B. 


was not at that time administered in accordance with the Con- 
stitution, nor for the preservation or prosperity of the Union : 
but that its powers were systematically wielded for the promo- 
tion and extension of the interests of Slavery, in direct hos- 
tility to the letter and spirit of the Constitution, in flagrant dis- 
regard of other great interests of the country, and in open 
contempt of the public sentiment of the American people and 
of the Christian world. 

Then, in an orderly and temperate style, the specifications 
of these grave charges were set forth. The points considered 
were : First, an historical outline of the progress of Slavery 
towards ascendency in the Federal Government ; second, the 
sentiments of the Constitution concerning Slavery ; third, a 
full history of the Missouri Compromise ; fourth, the story of 
the Annexation of Texas and the War with Mexico ; fifth, the 
repeal of the Missouri Compromise ; sixth, the invasion of Kan- 
sas by the South, and the action of the General Government ; 
seventh, the pleas urged in defence of the aggressions of 
Slavery, and the argument that the Missouri Compromise was 
not a compact, and that Congress had no power to prohibit 
Slavery in the territories. 

One demand and three positive declarations concluded the 

The demand was for the repeal of all laws permitting the 
introduction of slaves into territories once consecrated to free- 
dom. The declarations were : — 

First: A determination to resist, by every constitutional 
means, the existence of Slavery4n any part of the territories 
of the United States. 

Second : To support the people of Kansas in their resistance 
to the usurped authority of their lawless invaders, and to favor 
the admission of Kansas as a State of the Union. 

Third: To overturn the existing party in power, which had 
proved weak and faithless. 

The convention then set in motion the machinery of a per- 
fect organization, iiisued a call for a nominating convention to 
meet in Philadelphia, and adjourned. In June, the Philadel- 
phia convention nominated John C. Fremont as the first candi- 


date of the Republicau party for llie Presidency — and the 
new era in American politics began. The war that ensued was 
fierce. The gauntlet had been thrown; the defiance was 
accepted. Thenceforth, until the end of the. Civil War in the 
spring of 1865, bitter feelings were to be intensified, sectional 
animosities were to grow, blood was to flow ; but Freedom 
triumphed, and Slavery died. The campaign of 1856 was a 
triangulai nght. The Democrats of North and South united 
upon James Buchanan ; the discontented Whigs, who could 
not overcome their servility to the Slave Power sufficiently to 
become Republicans, concurred with the "American" party in 
the nomination of Millard Fillmore. Fremont was beaten in 
the election, and no other result was expected ; but the party 
which supported him developed a degree of strength which 
occasioned sui-prise even among the most sanguine of those who 
had participated in the proceedings at Pittsburg. Eleven free 
States cast their electoral votes — 114 in all — for Fi-emont; 
Buchanan obtained 172 electoral votes, including those of all 
the Slave States except Maryland, and those of five Free States : 
namely. New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Illinois, and Cal- 
ifornia. Had Pennsylvania and Illinois cast their votes for 
Fremont, they would have given him the election. Millard 
Fillmore received the electoral vote of Maryland only. 

The lines were strongly drawn, and the contest was well- 
fought by the new Republican party, as well as by its oppo- 
nents. Mr. Raymond took an active part in the canvass, and 
his public discussion with Lucien Bonaparte Chase, in the 
Broadway Tabernacle in New York, especially attracted atten- 
tion. This discussion was begun at the Brooklyn Museum, on 
the 11th of October, 1856, and resumed on the evening of the 
20th of the same month, in the Broadway Tabernacle, before 
an immense audience. Mr. Chase, a Tennesseean, represented 
the South ; Mr. Raymond defended the North. The chairman 
(Mr. S. P. Russell, a Democrat) announced that Mr. Raj''- 
mond was to be allotted an hour to open the debate, and that 
Mr. Chase was to be given an hour and a half iu which to 
reply. Mr. Raymond was then to rejoin for half an hour. 

Mr. Raymond was vehemently cheered on coming forward. 


He announced his intention to submit to the criticism of his 
friend Mr. Chase, and the audience, some of the reasons 
which induced him to believe that it would not be for the in- 
terest of the common country, to elect James Buchanan Presi- 
dent. He desired to say, in the first place, that he had nothing 
to say against Mr. Buchanan personally ; and then proceeded 
to criticise, in caustic terms, the Cincinnati platform, upon 
which Buchanan stood : a platform pledged to extend human 
Slavery over all the territories of the United States. Eay- 
mond then recited the history of the pro-slavery party, from 
the days of Washington down to the time of Pierce, and 
pointed to the baneful efiects of Slavery, closing with these 
words : — 

" The Southern States, with a population only half that of 
the Free States, wielded the whole power of the government. 
They had a majority in the Senate, and thus controlled the 
treaty-making power. The fact that property was represented 
in the South, and not in the North, gave them twenty-five to 
thirty of a representation in the House of Kepresentatives, 
more than they would be otherwise entitled to. Their policy 
now was to acquire an absolute ascendency in the Congress of 
the United States, and thus wield all the powers of the gov- 
ernment for the benefit of their interest alone, regardless of 
the other great interests of the country. And was this right? 
Was this just ? Was this what the freemen of America ought 
to consider as a desirable fate for their common country, in 
the days that were to come ? [Cries of 'No ! No !'] This same 
project of extending Slavery was not a matter of accident. In 
the South they were now vindicating Slavery upon principle. 
It was the only ground they could consistently take upon the 
Kansas question, for if it were not claimed for Slavery that it 
was a legitimate moral institution, they could not have the 
assurance to demand its extension into the territories. The 
ground taken by all the Southern Democratic supporters of 
James Buchanan was, that this was a contest between capital 
and labor. The question then was, whether labor should be 
independent of, or the servant and slave of, capital ; whether 

152 henhy j. eatmond and the new yoek press. 

capital should own labor, or the laborers should stand by them- 
selves, independent of it, making their own terms with it, 
consulting their own interest in it, building themselves up by 
the side of capital, and making labor what John C. Fremont 
called it, — ' the natural capital of a free country.' [Ap- 
plause.] Now, if we were to extend Slavery into Kansas, we 
must extend it, with all the social and all the moral influences 
that attend it everywhere ; and were those such as to recom- 
mend it to the favor of a free Christian community? Its rela- 
tions to freedom of speech and of the press afforded a suffi- 
cient answer. Whether they were satisfied to aid in extending 
it over our common country was the question which he now 
left to the criticisms of his opponent, and to their own judg- 

Mr. Chase followed in reply. He said that the speech of his 
opponent had proved, if proof was wanting, that the Eepubli- 
can party was a sectional party. It had been claimed, he said, 
by the Eepublicans, that Slavery had been, and was now, 
aggressive ; that it was the controlling power of the General 
Government. If they would set aside the first five Presidents, 
they would find that the North had had four Presidents and 
the South three. Count General Taylor, and it would stand 
from the South five ; from the North two. Then there were 
two hundred and fifty heads of departments at "Washington, 
and one-half of that number were from the Northern States. 
To the charge that the Slave Power was aggressive, he would 
further say, in refutation, that when the Constitution was 
adopted, nearly every State held slaves, and now Freedom 
holds full two-thirds of the land. He then took up the thread 
of Mr. Rajmond's argument and reviewed it in detail to prove 
that he had erred on many important points. 

Mr. Eaymond closed the discussion with a rejoinder which 
was remarkable for logical reasoning and for its fair state- 
ment of the issues of the campaign ; and on resuming his seat 
he was greeted with enthusiastic cheers. 

This discussion added to the political reputation Mr. Eay- 
mond had obtained, and was not without an influence upon the 


canvass. Fremont was defeated ; but his defeat was almost a 
victory. Four years later, the Eepublican party elected Abra- 
ham Lincoln to the Presidency ; and for eight years it fought 
the battle of Freedom, — first with the ballot, and then with the 







In the " Panic Year," an old landmark in New York was de- 
stroyed, to give place to the handsome range of stone build- 
ings now known as the " Times Block." The triangular space, 
bounded on the south by Beekman Street, on the east by Nas- 
sau Street, and on the west by Park Row, had long been oc- 
cupied by the "Old Brick Church," — a noted Presbyterian 
place of worship, under the pastoral care of the Reverend 
Gardiner Spring. This church, with its ancient vaults, its 
mustyChapel, and its mouldering memories, had become sacred 
in the eyes of the sturdy old Knickerbockers, whose fathers 
had found spiritual consolation within its walls. The tender 
reminiscences which clustered about it were reminiscences of 
the days when green fields stretched away on either hand, 
when the bulk of the city's population led a quiet and happy 
life at the lower end of the Island of Manhattan, when the 
Battery was the fashionable promenade, and the circle about 
the Bowling Green the abode of republican nabobs. The 
" Old Brick Church " w;is a link that bound the placid days of 
the past to the stirring days of the present ; and with a chival- 
rous feeling which i-eflccted much honor upon the sentiment 
that awakened it, the older members of the congregation long 
resisted the efibrt to uproot the edifice. Finally, however, 
the inexorable demands of business prevailed, and the walls of 
the " Old Brick " fell. 










This was in the beginning of the year 1857. The Times 
was in its sixth j'ear. It had prospered beyond the most ex- 
travagant hopes of its projectors, — once ab-eady it had been 
compelled to seek for ampler quarters ; * and now, for the 
second time, it needed room for expansion. Its proprietors, 
with far-seeing sagacity, determined to procure for its use a 
site at once permanent and prominent, and, moreover, at the 
point of the greatest probable appreciation in value. The op- 
portunity saught for was given, when the church property 
came upon the market. Many bidders appeared, and legal 
difficulties supervened, but the Times finally secured the site.f 
Ground was broken for the erection of the Ti^nes Building, on 
the 1st of May, 1857; the corner-stone was laid on the 12th 
of the same month; and on the 1st of May, 1858, precisely 
one year from the day of the first excavation, the new office 
was occupied. From these premises the Times has been is- 
sued, without interruption, for nearly twelve years. 

The JBuildiug was the wonder of its day, — for the 
idlest schemer, the most extravagant spendthrift, had never 
yet conceived the idea that a newspaper office should be a 
place of comfort. The older class of New York journals had 
always been housed in dilapidated quarters. Their editors had 
toiled painfully up long flights of dark and dirty staircases, to 
indite flaming political essays in dingy cocklofts. Ungarnished 
apartments had been assigned to the editorial assistants ; and 
hapless reporters had been heard to utter thanksgivings when 
their chairs held firmly together for a week, or to express their 
sentiments blasphemously when desks and chairs alike fell into 
one common ruin, from sheer dry-rot, at some accidental jar. 
The exterior of the old -newspaper dens was as unpromising as 
the internal appointments were uncomfortable. The bricks, 
washed clear of paint by the tempests of successive winters, 
took on a dull red hue ; the signs above the doors grew wan 

* On its removal to the corner of Nassau and Beekman streets, May 1, 1854. 
This corner is now occupied by the Park Hotel. 

t With the proceeds of the sale, the Brick Church congregation secured 
eligible lots on Pifth Avenue, upon which was erected the new edifice in 
which the venerable Doctor Spring still officiates. 


with age ; windows remained unwashed till the grime of years 
formed cakes ; and diligent spiders spun dense and endless cob- 
webs in uncleansed corners. 

It was, therefore, with a feeling of surprise, mingled with 
envy, that the newspaper trilobites of the day regarded the 
sumptuous outfit with which the Times set sail at this point of 
its career. The wise shook their heads in solemn doubt ; old 
and young came to see ; the new office was thronged for months 
by visitors, attracted by the fame of the frescoes, and the 
plate glass, and the tessellated pavements, the ciphers, the 
library, and all the harmonious appointments. The birth of 
the Times had marked one era in the Journalism of New York : 
— its palatial surroundings created another. The example has 
since been followed, — perhaps improved upon, — and notably 
in tlie instances of the Herald, in N"ew York, and the Public 
Ledger, in Philadelphia.* Newspapers have become potent; 
their conductors liberal. There is now space in which to 
breathe, even in the poorest buildings devoted to the issues of 
the press ; and the lines of the journalist are cast in pleasanter 
places than before. 

A full description of the Times Building is not out of place 
here ; for, although changes have been made in the interior, the 
general features remain unaltered: — the office may still be 
regarded as a model, and its excellent appointments merit the 
notice of the reader. 

The building occupies the northern end of the block bounded 
on tlie east by Nassau Street, and on the west by Park Eow ; 
abutting upon the open space formed by the junction of six 
streets, and known as Printing House Square. This square is 
sacred to the Press ; for within a stone' s-throw of each other 
are situated the offices of four of the leading daily papers of New 
York, — the Times, Tribune, World, andi Sun, — and those of a 

* The uevf Serald building, on the corner of Broadway and Ann Street, con- 
structed of white marble, is costly and handsome, but its internal arrange- 
ments are inferior to those of the Times establishment. The building occupied 
by the Ledger, in Philadelphia, however, surpasses both those of the Times 
and the Herald in the elegance of its appointments. Mr. George W. Childs, 
proprietor of the Ledger,\s celebrated for his generosity as well as for his 


dozen weekly journals and the Sunday papers ; besides the great 
printing establishment of the American Tract Society, the ware- 
houses of paper manufacturers, the shops of book-dealers, 
job-printing houses, and a countless variety of places in which 
print is in one way or another coined into ready cash. No 
other spot in the city is more appropriately named than Print- 
ing House Square ; and in the most prominent situation stands 
the office of the Times. 

The principal fronts, overlooking Park Eow and the Square, 
are substantially the same in design, but of difierent dimen- 
sions. The first story forms a continuous colonnade, with five 
rusticated stone piers on the western front, and four on the 
northern. The intervals between these piers are occupied by 
thirteen iron arched windows and entrances, resting on iron 
fluted pillars with Corinthian capitals, finished by an iron 

The Park Eow front is divided into tiiree compartments by 
richly ornamented pilasters, supporting a pediment, on which 
is an inscription, in large gilt letters, cut in relief. The JV. 
Y. Times, 1857. The first three stories are finished with 
square-headed windows. The fifth story has arched windows, 
five of which are clustered in the centre, rising to the pediment. 
The roof is surmounted by a tall flag-stafi". The Nassau 
Street front is of plainer architecture, the narrow street forbid- 
ding the display of more elaborate ornamentation. The total 
height of the building from curb to cornice is eighty-six feet, 
and the northern front is sixty feet in length. 

The press-room vaults are of extraordinary dimensions, ex- 
tending around the three fronts of the building, and having the 
following measurements : On Spruce Street, one hundred feet 
by twenty-six ; on Park Eow, one hundred by twenty ; on Nassau 
Street, ninety-five by fifteen, with a uniform depth of twenty-four 
feet below the curb. These vaults contain Hoe's great cylinder 
presses, upon which the Times is printed from stereotype 

On the Nassau Street side are the steam-boilers and engine ; 
on the Park Eow side, the folding and mailing rooms and the 
store-rooms for paper, — the latter opening to the pavement by 


means of a huge movable vault-light, which admits of the pas- 
sage of the largest reams of pnpei- required in printing. The 
vaults are admirably lighted and ventilated. 

The publication office occupies the entire fii-st floor of the 
building, opening on three streets. Its ceiling and walls are 
elaborately frescoed, and the cipher T is set in panels. The 
floor is tessellated with marble, and the office is lighted by 
eleven plate-glass windows. On the wall behind the counter 
are excellent medallions of Faust and Franklin. The business 
department of the paper is comprised in this part of the build- 
ing. The publisher (Mr. George Jones) occupies a snug 
apartment partitioned ofi'from the main office, in the south-west 
corner ; separate deslss are occupied by the cashier, advertising 
clerk, and subscription clerk ; and the appointments are adjusted 
with careful regard to the prompt despatch of business. 

The second and third floors are occupied by offices, and the 
fourth floor is devoted'to the uses of the Editorial department. 
Tlie wide iron staircase which leads from the main entrance 
opposite the Park ends upon this floor. Directly at the head of 
the staircase are the editors' rooms, — one for each department 
of the paper. The private office of the editor — that inner 
sanctuary known since newspapers had being by the name of 
the sanctum sanctorum — occupies the north-west angle of the 
building, commanding fine views of Printing House Square, 
the City Hall, and the Pai-k. Adjacent to this room is a spa- 
cious library, fitted up with shelves, tables, books, maps, and 
charts, and containing files of newspapers running through a 
series of years. Adjoining the library is the general writing- 
room, devoted to the use of assistants. The central apart- 
inent, opening from the main entrance, is also occupied by 
assistants, one of whom is in charge of the paper after all others 
have finished their duties and retired for the night. Smaller 
rooms are devoted to foreign and domestic news, and the 
commercial and musical departments of the paper. The city 
department is assigned a room of large dimensions, affording 
ample accommodation for the large force of reporters who are 
in service day and night throughout the year. 

Tlie composing-room, or jorinting-office, takes up the entire 


fifth floor, forming a spacious apartment about sixty feet by 
forty, with a height of twenty feet. The ceiling is pierced by 
sky-lights and ventilators, opening to the roof. In this room 
every appliance of the typographic art is ready for instant use. 
Frames of solid iron support the cases at which the printers 
work ; the foreman has his desk in the centre ; three dumb- 
waiters communicate respectively with the sanctum, general 
room, and publication office, with a code of signals for each ; 
a steam hoistway extends to the vaults below the pavement, for 
the purpose of raising and lowering the plates which now take the 
place of the bulky " forms " of type. Iron tanks, filled with 
water, cap the closets at one side of the room ; storage-'room is 
provided for the reception of surplus material ; the proof-read- 
ers are assigned a quiet corner, and each printer has his number. 
The view from this room in all directions is superb. Its 
height of upwards of eighty feet elevates it above the surround- 
ing buildings, and the upper part of New York is spread out 
before the eye in one grand panoramic view. 



eaymovd's ketuen from eukope, and his encodntee with secession IB 


— WAR — Raymond's patriotism — the riot week op 1863, and the 
TI3IES — Raymond's attitude. 

To return to Mr. Eaymond. After a brief visit to Europe in 
1859,* he resumed his editorial chair, in season to meet and 
to do battle with the Secession element which was soon to 
plunge the nation into war. He early saw the danger, and 
was constant in warning and entreaty. When the blov7 fell 
he showed himself brave and loyal ; and while the crisis was 
impending he was neither disheartened nor dismayed. His 
course through the whole of that trjdng period was eminently 
honorable, and thoroughly consistent, making so fair an offset 
to his errors of judgment after the conflict of arms had 
closed, that a broad charity may forgive, if it cannot forget, 
the latter. 

That he was alive to the dangers of the hour; that he 
regarded Secession as a possible, or even a probable, event ; 
and that with shrewd foresight he discerned the results of 
Secession, his public addresses, and the political articles from 
his pen which appeared in the year 1860, abundantly prove. 
In an elaborate speech on " The Political Crisis," delivered at 
a Union mass meeting in Albany, on the 12th of January, 
1860, he discussed with great care the condition of the country, 
the responsibility for its disquietude, and the nature of the 
remedy. With clearer sight than many of his contemporaries 

• The year of the Italian Campaign, the events of which were discussed by 
Mr. Raymond in lively letters to the Times. 


of like party faith, he Avarued his hearers that angry passion 
might, at any moment, light the flame of war; and, moreover, 
demonstrated by irrefragable argument that Slavery was but an 
incident of the impending contest ; that the struggle was to 
be made between opposite systems of civil polity, and for the 
restoration of the balance Qf power in the South, as against 
the North, — or, in the words of Mr. Seward's formula, an 
irrepressible conflict was to be fought out, soon or late. 

" We are told," said Mr. Eaymohd, " that the fear of danger 
to the Union is idle and groundless ; that the Union cannot be 
dissolved ; that the interests of its sections bind it indissolubly 
together, and render its disruption impossible. I grant the 
difficulties of the case, the extreme improbabilities of the ca- 
tastrophe. I concede fully that nothing but the madness of 
passion could prompt either States or individuals to such a 
step. But I have yet to learn that anything is impossible to 
nations, or to great communities, when they are frantic with 
rage or resentment. I should like to know what excess nations 
are not capable of, when they are profoundly swayed by the 
passion of fear or resentment against some real or some fancied 
wrong. Talk of national interest arresting the outbreak, or 
checking the sweep of national passion ! "What instance of the 
kind does history exhibit ? Are not its pages filled with the 
record of wars waged, and governments overthrown, and 
rulers slain, and thousands slaughtered, in the heat of popular 
frenzy, and imder the stimulus of pojDular passion? Did not 
France rush into a revolution which drenched her with blood ? 
Did not England, under passionate fear and dread of the first 
Napoleon, plunge into a war which drained her of her chil- 
dren and her treasure ; which loaded her with an inextinguish- 
able debt, and which is even to this day felt, by its oppressive 
results, in every cabin and every workshop of the British 
realm ? Were these the results of cool calculation of the na- 
tional interest? Have the many revolutions which have taken 
place in France, in Germany, in Spain, and the Italian States, 
been the work of sober reflection, of careful consideration? 
All great movements of great communities are movements of 
passion. * States and nations seldom or never stop to count the 


cost. The great events of history have been the offsprmg of 
aroused sentiment ; of profound, pervading, resistless passion. 
If our fathers had foreseen the cost of independence, — had 
foreseen the years of toil and of suffering it M'ould take to 
achieve it, they would scarcely have plunged, as they did, 
boldly, and with uncalculating faith in the unknown future, 
into the long and bloody war of the Revolution. It is when 
great bodies of men are stung by a sense of wrong, or frantic 
with apprehension of some ■ impending danger, that they rush 
rashly into rebellion, daring the worst that may happen, and 
throwing to the winds all estimate of results." 

Then, tracing minutely the causes of Northern ascendency 
and Southern discontent, he rebuked alike the extremists of 
the Abolitionist school, and the extremists of the South. 
For, with Lincoln and the greater proportion of the members 
of the Republican party, he had yet to be converted to Aboli- 
tionism by the events bf a long and bloody war. He con- 
cluded with the following sharp analysis of the causes underly- 
inir the excitement of the time : — 

" The disturbances of the country connected with slaver;^ are partly pol!'i-_ 
cal and partly moral. So far as they are purely political, I have strong confi- 
dence that they will work out their own remedy in the natural course of 
events. In every country there must be a just and equal balance of power iu 
the goverument, an equal distribution of the national forces. Each section 
and each interest must exercise its due share of influence and control. It is 
a]ways more or less difficult to preserve their just equipoise, and the larger 
the country, and the more varied its great interests, the more difficult does 
the tasli become, and the greater the shock and disturbance caused by an at- 
tempt to adjust it when once disturbed. I believe I state only what is gener- 
ally conceded to be a fact, when I say that the growth of the Northern States ■ 
in population, iu wealth, in all the elements of political influence and control, 
has been out of proportion to their political influence in the Federal Councils. 
While the Southern States have less than a third of the aggregate population 
of the Union, their interests have influenced the policy of the government far 
more than the interests of the Northern States. "Without going into any de- 
tail to establish this fact, a general knowledge of the action of the govern- 
ment for the past ten or fifteen years, the decisions and composition of the 
Supreme Court, the organization of the committees in the Federal Senate, 
the rule that obtains in the distribution of Federal office, etc., are quite sufli- 
cient to show its general truth. Now the North has made rapid advances 
within the last flve years, and it naturally claims a proportionate share of 
influence and power in the aflUirs of the Confederacy. 


" It isinevitable that this claim should be put forward, and it is also inevi- 
table that it should be conceded. No pai-ty can long resist it ; It overrides all 
parties, and makes them the mei-e instruments of its will. It is quite as 
strong to-day in the heart of the Democratic party of the North as in the 
Republican ranks ; and any party which ignores it will lose its hold on the 
public mind. 

" Why does the South resist this claim? Not because it is unjust In itself, 
but because it has become involved with the question of slavery, and has 
drawn so much of its vigor and vitality from that quarter, that it is almost 
merged in that issue. The North bases its demand for increased power, in a 
very great degree, on the action of the goverument in regard to slavery — 
and the just and rightful ascendency of the North in the Federal councils 
comes thus to be regarded as an element of danger to the institutions of the 
Southern States." • 

The questions at issue were further discussed by Mr. Ray- 
mond in the fall of 1860, in his celebrated "Letters to "William 
L. Yancey," which are given in full in the Appendix to this 
volume. * In these letters, Mr. Raymond accepted a personal 
challenge from Mr. Yancey to a discussion of the bearings of 
Slavery, and the effects of Disunion, considering, first, the 
position of the Northern States in relation to the slave-trade 
in 1787 ; second, the motives and objects of the disunion 
movement in the South ; third, the unconstitutionality and 
peril of Secession ; and, fourth, the precise nature of the 
pending issue. In conclusion, he defined the duty of the North, 
and the true policy of the Slave States, in terms at once tem- 
perate, logical, and forcible. The Yancey letters are justly 
regarded as among the best of Raymond's productions ; and in 
the light of subsequent events they attain a certain measure of 
historical value. 

War began in April, 1861 ; the event so long dreaded occur- 
ring, at last, so suddenly that the whole North was stunned by 
the report of the guns that roared against Fort, Sumter. Mr. 
Raymond was among the earliest of the effective champions of 
the Union. His editorial utterances, his public addresses, his 
conversation, influejice, and example were unreservedly de- 
voted to the highest expression of patriotic ardor ; and even 
in the darkest hours of the long conflict, his faith never wavered, 
and his energy never failed. When the Fainthearts grew 

* Appendix C 


■weary of the -way, he still fought on with voice and pen. 
When contemporaneous journals grew clamorous for Peace on 
any terms, however disgraceful,* the Times steadily encour- 
aged the disheartened, stimulated the daring, and defied the 
foe. It is a lasting honor to Raymond that the newspaper over 
which he presided preserved a consistent and noble record. 

A signal illustration of Raymond's courage in the presence 
of danger was given in the terrible " Riot Week " of July, 
1863, when, under pretence of resisting a draft for troops, 
the mob of New York committed the vilest excesses, and for 
days held undisputed possession of the city, encouraged to 
deeds of violence by the Governor of the State, and by in- 
cumbents of judicial office, and sustained by the traitorous 
journals of the day. The offices of the loyal newspapers were 
put in posture of defence, to avert apprehended attack, and 
the proprietors of the Times planted revolving cannon in their 
publication office, and provided great store of other death-deal- 
ing weapons with which to repel invasion. . Beneath the shel- 
ter of battery and bomb, Raymond steadily poured a galling 
fire into the ranks of the mob, its official supporters, and the 
editors who encouraged it. After the first news of the out- 
break, the Times published the following in displayed type : — 


"Mayor Opdyke has called for volunteer policemen, to serve for tbe 
special and temporary purpose of putting down the mob which threatened 
yesterday to burn and plunder the city. Let no man be deaf to this appeal ! 
No man can afford to neglect it. No man, whatever his calling or condition 
In life, can afford to live in a city where the law is powerless, and where 
mobs of reckless ruffians can plunder dwellings, and burn whole blocks of 

* For instance, the New York Tribune ; which printed the following editorial 
paragraphs In 1863 : — 

" If three months more of earnest fighting shall not serve to make a seri- 
ous Impression on the rebels ; if tlie end of that term shall find us no further 
advanced than its beginning ; if some malignant Tate has decreed that the 
blood and treasure of the nation shall ever be squandered in fruitless 
efforts, — let us bow to our destiny, and make the best -attainable peace." 
—Januanj 22, 1863. 

" If the rebels are indeed our masters, let them show it, and let us own it. 
. . . If the rebels beat Grant, and water their horses in the Delaware, 
routing all the forces we can bring against them, we shall be under foot, and 
may as well own ii." — June 17, 1863. 


buildings witli impunity. Let the mob which raged yesterday in our streets, 
with so little of real restraint, obtain the upper hand for a day or two longer, 
and no one can predict or imagine the extent of the injury they may inflict, or 
the weight of the blow they may strike at our peace and prosperity. This 
mob must be crushed at once. Every day's, every hour's, delay is big with 
evil. Let every citizen come promptly forward and give his personal aid to 
so good and so indispensable a worli." 

On the third day of the riot, Kaymond wrote : — 

" We trust that Gov. Seymour does not mean to falter. We believe that in 
his heart he really intends to vindicate the majesty of the law, according to 
his sworn obligations. But, in the name of the dignity of government and 
of public safety, we protest against any further indulgence in the sort of 
speech with which he yesterday sought to propitiate the mob. Entreaties 
and promises are not what the day calls for. No official, however higli his 
position, can make them, without bringing public authority into contempt. 
This monster is to be met with a sword, and that only. He is not to be 
placated witli a sop ; and, if he were, it would only be to make him all the 
more insatiate hereafter. In the name of all that is sacred in law and all 
that is precious in society, let there be no more of this. There is force 
enough at the command of Gov. Seymour to maintain civil authority. He 
will do it. He cannot but do it. He is a ruined man if he fails to do it. 
This mob is not our master. It is not to be compounded with by paying 
black mail. It is not to be supplicated and sued to stay its hand. It is to 
be defied, confronted, grappled with, prostrated, crushed. The government 
of the State of New York is its master, not its slave ; its ruler, anil not its 

"It is too true that there are public journals who try to dignify this mob 
by some respectable appellation. The Herald characterizes it as the people 
and the World as the laboring men of the city. These are libels that ought 
to have paralyzed the fingers that penned them. It is inefikbly infamous to 
attribute to the people, or to the laboring men of this metropolis, such hide- 
ous barbarism as this horde has been displaying. The people of New York, 
and the laboring men of New York, are not incendiaries, nor robbers, nor 
assassins. They do not hunt down men whose only ofi'ence is the color God 
gave them ; they do not chase, and insult, and beat women ; they do not 
pillage an asylum for orphan children, and burn the very roof over those 
orphans' heads. They are civilized beings, valuing law and respecting 
decency; and they regard, with unqualified abhorrence, the doings of the 
tribe of savages that have sought to bear rule in their midst. 

"This mob is not the people, nor does it belong to the people. It is for 
the most part made up of the very vilest elements of the city. It has not 
even the poor merit of being what mobs usually are, — the product of mere 
ignorance and passion. They talk, or rather did talk at first, of the oppres- 
siveness of the Conscription law ; but three-fourths of those who have been 
actively engaged in violence have been boys and young men under twenty 
years of age, and not at all subject to the Conscription. Were the Conscrip- 
tion law to be abrogated to-morrow, the controlling inspiration of the mob 


would remain all the same. It comes from sources quite independeut of that 
law, or any other, — from malignant hate toward those in better circum- 
stances, from a craving for plunder, from a love of commotion, from a bar- 
barous spite against a different race, from a disposition to bolster up the 
failing fortunes of the Southern rebels. All of these influences operate in 
greater or less measure upon any person engaged in this general defiance of 
law; and all combined have generated a composite monster more hellish 
than the triple-headed Cerberus. 

"It doubtless is true that the Conscription, or rather its preliminary 
process, furnished the occasion for the outbreak. This was so simply be- 
cause it was the most plausible pretext for commencing open defiance. But 
it will be a.fatal mistake to assume that this pretext has but to be removed 
to restore quiet and contentment. Even if it be allowed that this might have 
been true at the outset, it is completely false now. A mob, even though it 
may start on a single incentive, never sustains itself for any time whatever 
on any one stimulant. With every hour it lives it gathers new passions, and 
dashes after new objects. If you undertake to negotiate with it, you find 
that what it raved for yesterday It has no concern for to-day. It is as in- 
constant as it is headstrong. The rabble greeted with cheers the suppliant 
attitude of Gov. Seymour, and his promises with reference to the Conscrip- 
tion law, but we have yet to hear that they thereupon abandoned their out- 
rages. The fact stands that they are to-night, whUe we write, still Infuriate, 
still insatiate. 

" You may as well reason with the wolves of the forest as with these men 
in their present mood. It is quixotic and suicidal to attempt it. The duties 
of the executive ofilcers of this State and city are not to debate, or negotiate, 
or supplicate, but to execute the laws. To execute meaus to enforce by 
authority. This is their only official business. Let it be promptly and sternly 
entered upon with all the means now available, and it cannot fail of being 
carried through to an overwhelming triumph of public order. It may cost 
"blood, — much of it perhaps; but it will be a lesson to the public enemies, 
whom we always have and must have in oilr midst, that will last for a gener- 
ation. Justice and mercy, this time, unite in the same behest : Give them 
grape, and a plenty of it." 

The temper of Raj^mond's miad, and the tone pf the Times, so 
long as the rebels were in arms, were relentless. " Strike fast 
and strike hard" was his counsel, until the foe had yielded ; and 
in this strongly set purpose he never wavered for an instant. 
The judgment, the sentiment, the patriotic instincts, the innate 
honesty of the man, were all enlisted in the cause of the 
country ; and he was uniformly brave and true. It was only 
after the smoke-clouds of the battle-field had. lifted, and when 
the beaten foe had submissively yielded, that he began to look 
at the other side. 

It is needless to entef into a relation of the petty acrimo- 


nies of the period of the War, or to revive the memory of the 
more serious attacks which were made upon Mr. Raymond and 
the Times. The paper and its editor lived and prospered, 
through and beyond the fight, and the whole record of that 
bitter season throws no shadow upon the fair fame of either. 
But with Peace came Eaymond's political failure. 





The years 1862, ] 863, and 1864 were busy years for Mr. 
llaymoiid. Besides his daily labors for his paper, and his active 
participation in all the movements of loyal men in support of 
the war, he also mingled in the local and State politics of this 
period, and occupied a prominent place as a Republican leader. 
On the 6th of November, 1863, he delivered a memorable ad- 
dress at Wilmington, Delaware ; in the course of which, although 
speaking to an audience in a Slave State, he insisted with much 
boldness upon the necessity of quelling the rebellion at any 
cost, of restoring the Union, and of re-establishing the suprem- 
acy of the Constitution. In May, 1864, he was appointed a 
delegate to the Republican State Convention in New York, and 
by that body was chosen delegate at large to the Republican 
National Convention, which assembled in Baltimore in the 
following summer. In the latter body, IMr. Raymond was 
made chairman of the New York State delegation, and in 
great part to his efforts Andrew Johnson was indebted for the 
nomination to the Vice-Presidency. Mr. Raymond was also 
chairman of the Committee on Resolutions, and shaped the 
platform of 1864. He was afterwards appointed a member of 
the Republican National Committee, and became its chairman. 
His services in the political campaign of 1864, contributing 
greatly to the success of the Republican party, in the State of 


New York as well as in the Presidential election, his political 
strength and influence were continually augmented, and up to 
this time he had made no mistakes. But evil days were in store 
for him. 

In November, 1864, he accepted the Republican nomination 
for Congress in the Sixth District of New York. This district 
comprised the ninth, fifteenth, and sixteenth wards of New 
York city, and three candidates besides Mr. Raymond ap- 
peared in the field. The campaign was unusually spirited. 
Abraham Lincoln had been nominated for a second Presidential 
term, and was opposed by George B. McClellan. Reuben E. 
Fenton was the Republican candidate for Governor of the 
State of New York, in opposition to Horatio Seymour. Full 
Congressional delegations were also to be elected. National, 
State, and local issues accordingly entered into the political 
controversies of the day, and all the lines were sharply 
drawn. The district in which Raymond ran included the ward 
which had previously sent him to Albany as its representa- 
tive in the Legislature ; and he alone had the advantage of 
successful precedent over the candidates arrayed against him. 
His majority over the Mozart (Democratic) candidate, Eli P. 
Norton, was 5,668 ; his vote exceeded that cast for the Tam- 
many candidate, Elijah Ward, by 386 ; the irregular Republi- 
can candidate. Rush C. Hawkins, was beaten by a majority of 
5,968. The whole number of votes cast in. the district was 
17,238,; and the poll stood as follows-: Raymond, 7,315; 
Ward, 6,929; Norton, 1,647, and Hawkins, 1,347. 

Taking his seat in the House of Representatives at the open- 
ing of the Thirty-ninth Congress, in March, 1865, Mr. Ray- 
mond found himself fated to take part in the solution of the 
weighty question of Reconstruction. The speedy end of the 
War, closely followed by the assassination of Lincoln, threw 
upon Congress a burden more difficult of adjustment than all 
that had gone before. Andrew Johnson, elevated to the Pres- 
idency by an accident which was not more lamentable in its 
immediate result than in the consequences it entailed, so soon 
belied his former professions that he first amazed the nation, 
and then excited it to frenzy. His opponents a ad his partisans 


soon became arrayed in hostile attitude ; and from the halls ol 
Congress the violence of party strife and the struggle for party 
supremacy extended and widened, until the whole country 
again became convulsed. The unwise and inconsequential pro- 
ceeding of the impeachmeiat of the President was the final re- 
sult of this conflict, and, soon afterwards, the retirement of 
the latter, at the close of his term of office, ended the dis- 
graceful scene. 

A lamentable fatality attended the efforts made by Mr. 
Johnson's friends to sustain his power, and to defend his cause 
before the tribunal of the people. Mr. Raymond, unhappily 
for himself, espoused the cause of the President with mistaken 
ardor. In the attempt to secure for the defeated South a fair 
measure of justice, he accepted the arguments advanced by 
Mr. Johnson, and pressed them with a degree of zeal which 
was untempered by discretion. Unquestionably his purpose 
was good, but his unfortunate tendency to temporize, in all 
circumstances except those of pressing emergency, led him 
into the wrong path. 

This tendency of Raymond's mind was singularly illustrated 
by his course in the Philadelphia Convention. On the 
14th of August, 1866, sixteen months after the close of the 
war, a "National Union Convention", assembled in Phila- 
delphia, composed of delegates from all the States and terri- 
tories of the United States, who then met together for the first 
time in six years. North, South, East, and West, — Eepub- 
licans and Democrats, — those who had rebelled against the 
authority of the Union, and those who had always been loyal 
to the Union, — again united, by common consent, to consider 
the condition of the country. Mr. Raymond was a prominent 
member of this convention ; and his New York colleague J in 
the committee on the Address, was Mr. Sanford E. Church, a 
leading Democrat.* The hatchet was formally buried, and 

* The names of the committee appointect to draft resolutions and address 
are as follows : — 

Edgar Cowan, Chairman. 

Maine — E. ID. Rico, and Ge8rge M. Weston. 

New Hampshire — C. B. Bowers, and H. Birgham. 


peace and good-will reigned. Mr. Eaymond was deeply im- 
pressed by the tender associations of the moment, and his 
desire to placate the South found a decided expression in the 
celebrated " Philadelphia Address," the preparation and adop- 
tion of which cost him his place as the Chairman of the 
National Executive Committee of the Republican party. 

The Philadfelphia Address* opened with a declaration that, 
since the National Conrention of 1860, events had occurred 
which had changed the character of our internal politics, and had 
given the United States a new place among the nations of the 

Vermont — C. N. Davenport, and J. H. Williams. 
Massachusetts — ^ General D. S. Couch, andC. L. Woodbury. 
Bhode Island — Wm. Beach Lawrence, and Thomas Sterne. 
Connecticut — James Dixon, and 0. S. Seymour. 
New Yor!c — H. J. Raymond, and S. E. Church. 
New Jersey — Colonel Ingham Coriell, and Abraham Browning. 
Pennsylvania — Edgar Cowan, and W. Bigler. 
Delaware — Joseph P. Comegys, and Joseph Ayres Stockley. 
Maryland — R. Johnson, and Jno. W. Cusfleld. 
Virginia — Richard H. Parker, and John W. Marge. 

West Virginia — General John J. Jackson, Parkersburg, and Daniel_ Lamb, 
of Wheeling. 
North Carolina — Wm. A. Graham, and N. Borden. 
South Carolina — S. McGowan, and R. F. Perry. 
Georgia — B. W. Alexander, and A. R. Wright. 
Florida — Wm. Marian, and Mr. Wilkinson. 
Alabama — C. C. Langdon, and T. J. Foster. 
Mississippi — Wm. Yager, and A. Murdock. 
Louisiana — John Ray, and Judge Baker. 
Texas — B. H. Epperson, and L. D. Evans. 
Tennessee — Jolm S. Brien, and John Baxter. 
Arkansas — Wm. Byers, and W. L. Bell. 
Kentucky — Garrett Davis, and E. Hise. 
OJiio — Sol. Hinkle, and Col. Geo. McCook. 
Indiana -^ John S. Davis, and Thomas A. Hendricks. 
Illinois— O. H. Browning, and S. S. Marshall. 
Michigan — W. B. McCreery, and Chas. E. Stewart. 
Missouri — Aastin E. King, and James A. Broadhead. 
Minnesota — Henry M. Rice, and Daniel S. Norton. 
Wisconsin — C. A. Eidridge, and J. J. R. Pease. 
JoM« — Charles Mason, and T. H. Benton. 
.Kansas — Gen. Charles W. Blair, and W. C. McDowell. 
California — R. J. Walker, and J. A. McDongall. 
Nevada — Governor G. M. Beebe, Frank Hereford, and G. Barnard. 
Oregon — G. L. Curry, and E. M. Baruum. 
District oj Columbia— B. T. Swart, and Dr. Charles Allen. 
Dakotrih — A. A. Folk. 
Idaho — C. F. Powell, and Henry W. Pugh. 
Nebraska — Major Ti. H. Heath. 
New Mexico — Geo. P. Este. 
Washington — Edward Lander. 
Colorado — Milo Lee. 

♦ See Appendix D. 


earth. The government had passed through the vicissitudes 
and the perils of civil war. Severe losses in life and in prop- 
erty had been endured, and heavy burdens had been imposed 
upon the people. The war, too, like all great contests which 
rouse the passions and test the endurance of nations, had given 
new scope to the ambition of political parties, and fresh im- 
pulse to plans of innovation and reform. But now, for the 
first time after six years of alienation and conflict, every State 
and every section of the land was again represented in a Na- 
tional Convention, the members of the body again meeting as 
citizens of a common country. Therefore the address contin- 
ued : it should be remembered, first, always and everjrwhere, 
that the war has ended and the nation is again at peace ; that 
this convention had assembled to take friendly counsel, and 
that its work was to be, not that of passion nor of resentment 
for past offences, but of calm and sober judgment and a lib- 
eral statesmanship. In the second place, the address argued 
the necessity of recognizing the full significance and promptly 
accepting all the legitimate consequences of the political results 
of the war. Thirdly, it insisted upon the importance of an ac- 
curate understanding of the real character of the war, and of 
the victory by which it was closed. Then came a declaration 
that the constitution of the United States remained precisely 
as before the war ; that this had been iterated and reiterated by 
the Executive and by Congress ; and that only since the war had 
been announced " the right of conquest and of confiscation, the 
right to abrogate all existing governments, institutions, and laws, 
and to subject the territory conquered and its inhabitants to such 
laws, regulations, and deprivations as the legislative department 
of the government may see fit to impose." After this followed 
an elaborate argument adverse to the action taken by Con- 
gress, turning upon the point that it was unjust to refuse to 
ten States a representation in Congress, — imjust because those 
States were not in rebellion, but were one and all "in an atti- 
tude of loyalty towards the government, and of sworn alle- 
giance to the Constitution of the United States." 

To this address was appended a " Declaration of Principles," 


— and this Declaration conveyed a promise of support to An- 
drew Johnson. 

The President, however, gained nothing, while Mr. Ray- 
mond lost all. From the date of the publication of the Phila- 
delphia address the name of Mr. Raymond was dropped from 
the list of Republican leaders ; his -cordial affiliation with the 
members of his party ceased ; the Republican National Com- 
mittee met and removed him from the chairmanship, and the 
next State Convention ratified their action. Mr. Raymond 
quickly perceived the false step, and endeavored to retrace it, 
but he was never able to regain his former political position. 
Nevertheless, he continued to give a hearty support to the can- 
didates of the Republican party.* 

* Raymond was accused of having gone over to the Democratic party. 
This accusation is set at rest by the following letters, which were first pub- 
lished in the Albany Evening Journal in the fall of 1866 : — 

" Editors of the Albant Journai,, — 

" Gentlemen : It is due to the Hon. Henry J. Eaymond that the following 
letter be published. It shows he never intended to join the Democratic 
party, and that he is consistent in supporting the Union State ticket. 

" Respectfully yours, Kansom Balcom. 

" Binghamton, Oct. 8, 1866. 

""Washington, July 17, 1866. 

" My dear Sir : I have yours of the 14th. I think there can be no doubt as 
to the substantial unanimity of the Union party in our State, and elsewhere, 
in opposition to the general course of the President, and to the Philadelphia 
Convention. What may happen between now and election time, after the 
pressure of Congress is removed and when the people have had an opportu- 
nity to canvass the matter more coolly, it is not easy to say. 

"I think it not unlikely that the Philadelphia Convention may have a whole- 
some influence on our State Convention, and make it somewhat more mod- 
erate than it would be otherwise. But it is not likely to disturb the integrity 
or ascendency of the Union party. 

"I shall be governed in my course toward it by developments. I do not see 
the necessity of denouncing it from the start, nor until more is known of its 
composition, purposes, and action. It looks now as though it would be 
mainly in the hands of the Copperheads. If it should happen to contain », 
majority of sensible men from all parties, who care more for the country than 
any party, it may possibly exclude the extreme Copperheads and Rebels, and 
lay down a platform which shall command the respect of the whole country. 
But this would be a kind of miracle which we have no right to expect in these 
days to look for. 

" I think, in spite of all the rash things that have been said, and the crazy 
schemes that have been proposed by the Radicals this winter, what has act- 
ually been done by Congress merits approbation. All which it has done iu a 
political sense is to pass the Constitutional amendments. I voted for them, 
and am ready to stand upon them as the platform of tlie party. I think the 
members from Tennessee and Arkansas ought to be at once admitted to their 
seats, as loyal men, who can take the oath and come from loyal constituen- 


Mr. Eaymond finally discovered the true character of the 
Executive whose cause he had undertaken to defend ; and, when 
fully convinced of the utter baseness of the man, wrote in the 
columns of the Times these words : ^— 

" We have tried very hard to hold our original faith in his personal hon- 
esty, and to attribute his disastrous action to errors of judgment and infirmi- 
ties of temper. The struggle has often been difficult, and we can maintain it 
no longer. We give it up. It is impossible to reconcile his language in re- 
gard to our national debt with integrity of purpose, or any sincere regard for 
the honor and welfare of the nation. We only regret that foreigners should 
be able to cite a President's message in seeming proof of our national dis- 
honor and disgrace." 

It is but simple justice to the memory of Mr. Eaymond to 
place upon record one of the most elaborate justifications of him- 
self, and of the President, which he ever felt it his duty to 
make. It was a long and eloquent speech, delivered at a 
Union meeting in the Cooper Institute, in the city of New 
York, in February, 18136. At this meeting, Francis B. Cut- 
ting presided, and addresses were delivered by Secretary Sew- 
ard, Postmaster-General Dennison, and Mr. Raymond. The 
immediate occasion of the gathering was Mr. Johnson's veto of 
the Freedman's Bureau bill. The supporters of the President 
improvised a mass meeting to stem the tide of popular indig- 
nation which the President's action had created; and one of the 
resolutions adopted was as follows : — 

Sesolved, That we approve the general principles announced by the Presi- 
dent in his annual message and in his late message, explaining the reasons 
for withholding his assent to the bill for the continuance and enlargement of 

cies. If Congress would do that and adjourn, we could go into the canvass 
this fall without any fear of the Philadelphia Convention, or anything else. 
I think the President has made a great mistake in taking ground against 
tlioso amendments. They are in themselves reasonable, wise, and popular. 
It is easy to take exceptions to details, and to the mode in which they have 
been passed, but the people will not be stopped by these trifles. They will 
go to tlie heart of the matter, and judge them on their merits. Yours very 
truly, " H. J. Raymond. 

" lion. Ransom Balcoji." 

Mr. Raymond's letter, It will be observed, was written a month before the 
Philadelphia Convention met. 


the Freedman's Bureau ; and while we express this approval we give him onr 
confidence, and promise him our continued support in all proper measures for 
the restoration of constitutional government in all parts of the country." 

The time, it should be remembered, was the month of Feb- 
ruary, 1866. The Philadelphia Convention did not meet until 
the following August. Mr. Eaymond, therefore, had not yet 
fallen into his fatal error. His speech is so fair an expression 
of the motives which had governed his course in Congress, and, 
at the same time, serves so well to explain some of his mental 
characteristics, that we append it entire, as revised by him- 

"I need not say, my fellow-citizens, how deeply I stand indebted to you 
for the greeting with which you receive me upon ray appearance here. I 
came here not to speak to you, but to hear you speak to me, to Congress, to 
the country. My duty for the moment lies elsewhere. I have been endeav- 
oring to discharge it to the best of my ability, and with a conscientious pur- 
pose to serve as well as I could the country whose welfare we all have at 
heart. I came here not for inspiration from your presence, even, though any 
one who had any sensitiveness to the popular impulse which must always 
rule this laud, might well draw inspiration from such a scene as is presented 
here to-night ; but I trust I may say, without undue boasting, that in such a 
crisis as this, through which our country is just passing, I need no inspira- 
tion to do my duty but the sense of right and of obligation to the community. 

"It has been painful to me, rmist be painful to any one in public life, to separate 
himself on great public questions from those personal and political friends icith 
whom he has been in the habit of acting ; but I have done it, if I Icnow my own 
heart, because I believed that the interests of the country required different action 
from that which they ivere counselling me to take. [Applause.] I must do 
them the justice to say here that for the most part I believe them to be just 
as conscientious in their impulses and just as patriotic in their motives as I 
claim to be in mine. I do not believe that the Congress now assembled at 
Washington is desirous of permanently breaking up this Union ; but I do 
believe that the action they are taking will have the effect of doing it for a- 
time, but only for a time ; for I agree most heartily and thoroughly with the 
distinguished Secrxjtary of State [Mr. Seward], who has addressed you to- 
night in words of wisdom and eloqueuce which you will not soon forget, and 
wliich the whole country will hear with delight. I agree with him that the 
restoration of this Union is but a question of time, and that Congresses, or 
Governors, or Presidents even, can delay that time but for a little while. 

"Why, fellow-citizens, it seems to me that he must be a blind and dull 
observer of the progress of history as it is being enacted in our time who 
can doubt that for *a moment. What have we been doing for the last Ave 
years ? For wha.t have we been raising those vast armies by the voluntary 
action of our people — those vast sums of money? For what have our 

176 henut j. eatmond and the new toek press. 

brethren been shedding their blood on the field of battle, laying down their 
lives, sacrificing everything tliey had on earth? Why are we now loaded 
with a debt greater than this nation ever believed it would be called upon to 
bear? For what has all this been done, but to save the Union which our 
fathers gave us and charged us to preserve unimpaired to the latest genera- 
tion ? Did any of us ever hear from any source of authority, from the day 
when this war began to the day when it closed, any declaration of any other 
purpose in waging it than to preserve the integrity of the Union and main- 
tain the supremacy of the Constitution of the United States ? 

"A Voice — Yes! 

"Mr. Raymond — Will you b^ good enough to name it? Congress declared 
over and over again, that the object, and the only object, of this war was to 
maintain the integrity of the Union, afid to preserve the supremacy of the 
Constitution. Why, sir, during the first year of the war, that great and 
patriotic statesman, now deceased, John J. Crittenden [Applause], introduced 
into the House of Representatives a resolution declaring that, and nothing 
but that, to be the object of the war, and at just about the same time that 
other great and equally patriotic statesman, Andrew Johnson [Great cheer- 
ing], introduced into the Senate a resolution declaring the same thing, in 
nearly the same words, and both passed unanimously. Congress has never 
from that day to this declared any other purpose. The Executive depart- 
ment, the Legislative department, every department of the government, 
from the beginning of the war to the end, when they spote at all of its 
object, declared that object to be the preservation of the Integrity of the 
Union and the maintenance of the authority of the Constitution. The Presi- 
dent, in all his proclamations, from the first to the last, made that declara- 
tion, and Congress never disapproved it; but, on the contrary, reiterated 
and reaflirmed it. 

"■yfhile individuals in Congress may have had other purposes in view, 
Congress itself, by its authority, declared that to be the purpose of the war, 
and declared furthermore, that when that purpose was attained the war 
ought to end. It was that purpose, thus declared, that united the people of 
this great nation as one man in their efi'orts for the prosecution of the war 
and the pi-eservation of the Union. While there was a large party in the 
country who disapproved of the measures of the government, and who 
resisted and hampered the government in carrying out those measures, I am 
willing to do them the justice to believe that they acted from a sincere con- 
viction that war would not preserve the Union, but would destroy it. They 
said no Union lilce this, depending wholly on the will of the people for its 
existence, could be preserved by force; and the reason they gave was, that 
even if the war should be prosecuted to a successful termination, if the 
rebellion should be crushed, the people conquered would never consent to 
come baclt again into a Union with the people who had conquered them. 
Now what is the fact in that respect? Are they not even now, when thor- 
oughly subdued, ready to come bacli? Are they not anxious to come back? 
Do they not, though subdued and crushed by the suppression of the rebel- 
lion, see and aclcnowledge, one and all, that the only flag that can give them 
shelter is that of the glorious Stars and Stripes against which they have been 
figliting for years ? 


"Voices — Yes, yesl 

"Now, I have gone through all this history simply to say this one thing, 
that the people of the United States who have prosecuted this war and have 
given so freely of their money and of their lives to bring it to a successful 
conclusion, all for the purpose of maintaining this Union, will adhere to that 
purpose and that determination to the end. Do you suppose they are going 
to abandon that purpose, which carried them through the war, now that the 
war is over? 

" Voices — Never ! 

"In their resentment against those who brought this war upon the 
country, it is possible, nay, it is natural, that men should be unwilling to 
take hasty action in restoring the rebellious States to their rights under the 
Constitution. They do not feel it to be right, or proper, or safe, that the 
men who have been prosecuting this war against the government should, 
upon its cessation, instantly come back and resume their seats as members 
of it. The feeling is natural, and within limits it is entirely just and proper. 
We do not, any of us, wish to see men red-handed with the blood of our 
brethren, march up with an air of triumph, as though they were the victors, 
and take their seats among those who make our laws. We do not propose 
that this shall happen. Nobody has proposed any such thing. 

" The President has said that whoever takes a seat in Congress, or fills an 
office under the Federal Government, should be a man loyal to the Constitu- 
tion and the Union, and able to take truly any test oath the government may 
prescribe; and all that he asks is, that loyal men, representing loyal con- 
stituents, and able to take the oath prescribed for all, shall be allowed to 
come up and take their seats in Congress, in order that those States may be 
restored to their rights as members of the Union under the Constitution. 
[Applause.] As for disloyal men, who cannot take the oath prescribed, he 
has repeatedly said, and we all agree, that they had better go back to their 
constituents and give place to others better fitted to take part in the legisla- 
tion of the land. And so say we all of us. But the President does think 
that a State loyal enough to furnish a loyal President ; a State which, during 
the continuance of the war, adopted a free Constitution and abolished 
slavery; a State that reorganized itself on Republican principles, abjuring 
the rebellion and driving out the rebels from its borders ; a State which has 
sent loyal men to Washington, — the President does think that the represent- 
atives of such a State should be admitted ; and that there is no reason on 
the face of the earth for refusing them admission — for thus turning our 
backs upon loyal men and confounding them with disloyal men of the South- 
ern States, In one common sentence of condemnation. [Renewed applause.] 
In that sentiment I believe the whole country will thoroughly, heartily, 
zealously, concur. 

" Why, even this present Congress, as I have reason to know, was ready 
last Monday, by a majority of its votes in the House of Representatives, to 
admit the Representatives from the State of Tennessee to their seats in Con- 
gress. Why, then, did they not doit? Because, unfortunately, that House 
has surrendered its power to admit members without the consent of one of 
its own committees, or without overriding it ; and because, moreover, the 
President of the United States, in the discharge of what he believed to be his 



solemn obligations to his conscience and his oath, vetoed a bill which they 
had sent for his approval, and to show their resentment of that act, the House 
still further resolved that no member from Tennessee, or any other Southern 
State, should be admitted to either House, until both Houses had consented 

" That action was taken in a moment of resentment. Yon all know hpw 
powerful for the moment resentments are, and how, under the influence of 
passion and excitement, where no time is taken for discussion or delibera- 
tion, resentments may decide very Important action. The leaders in this 
case took care that there should be no discussion, by moving the previous 
question, and refusing to hear <jne single word from any man who disap- 
proved of the action they proposed to take. It was thus, and thus only, that 
this resolution was passed. But if you know how natural and how powerful 
such resentments are, you know, also, how short-lived they are. You know 
that the passion which may lead a man to do an act to-day may subside, so 
that he will regret it to-morrow ; and my own belief is, that if time can be 
afforded for calm reflection on this great subject, Congress, as well as the 
country, will come to see that the path of wisdom, the path of safety, and the 
path of patriotism lies in quite another direction from that in which they 
have been walking hitherto. [Applause.] 

" The immediate occasion of the resentment which has influenced Con- 
gress in this case is, as you have been told to-night, the veto of the Freed- 
man's Bureau Bill, which was sent to the President, and returned by him on 
Monday last. The reasons which led him to disapprove that bill have also 
been set before you. The language used by the friends of the bill, in Con- 
gress and out of Congress, on this subject, — and I am sorry to see in this 
city, to some extent, — implies that the President's disapproval of that par- 
ticular bill leaves all the slaves that hav^ been made free under the amend- 
ment to the Constitution at the absolute will and mercy of the late rebels 
among whom they live. We are told that the President has abandoned them 
to their fate, and wholly turned them over to the rule of the rebels, their late; 
masters. That is an entire misapprehension of the facts in the case. The- 
President's message itself should have corrected that view, and will correct 
it in the minds of all who read it with candor. 

"That message expressly states that, for one year after peace shall have 
been proclaimed by him or Congress, the present Freedman's Bureau Bill, 
of which no complaint is made, and which gives full and complete protection 
to that class of persons, will be in full and complete efitecf; and that after 
one year's experience, if it shall be found necessary. Congress, which will 
'hen be in session, can pass a law better adapted to the state of affairs which 
shall then exist. Is not that sensible? Is it not reasonable ? The President 
has not left it lo be inferred that he is indifferent to the fate of the colored 
race in the Southern States. He insists, as the people of the whole country 
•wiii jusist, that their freedom shall be established and protected, — that all 
the rights of free men shall be secur--4 to them, — that they shall have access 
to courts of law as parties and as witnesses, for the protection of life, lib- 
erty and property, — that they shall have the right tc make contracts, to own 
real and personal estate, to enjoy the returns of their labor, and in all 
respects Involving their civil and personal rights tc be placed upon the same 


footing with other citizens living under the Constitution of the same country. 
He has repeated this over and over again in his public declarations. He rec- 
ognizes the obligation of the government to protect them during their tran- 
sition from slavery t9 freedom. And he stands ready to execute fully and 
freely all the provisions of the existing law, — which will be in full force for 
at least one year longer for securing this great end. But why this hot haste, 
this impatient and intolerant determination of Congress, to pass a new law a 
year before it can be required, — conferring upon the President enormous 
power which he does not wish to exercise, and thrusting upon him vast sums 
of money that he does not wish to spend? 

" It is not for me to canvass the motives of public action ; but I can easily 
understand that in this case it may be quite other tlian that which appears on 
the surface. Certainly it cannot be purely and exclusively a desire to protect 
this class of our people, for the existing bill does that. Why, then, disturb 
it, — why interfere with its operation ? Unfortunately it is a question of sen- 
timent, or passion, and action taken under such influence often aims at other 
results than those which its authors would be willing to avow. I must say 
that I look with distrust upon the actions of the Committee in whose bands 
Congress has placed the entire control of this question. Not that I distrust 
the motives of the men upon it; but it is a novel thing, something entirely 
without example in our history, for each House of Congress to abnegate 
powers which the Constitution in express terms confers upon it, and hand 
them over to a joint committee which sits in secret, making no report of its 
action, and giving to Congress none of the information which it was created 
to give, but sending down to that Congress, from time to time, changes in 
our Fundamental Law, and demanding that they shall be adopted on the spot. 
" I say it is a new portion of our history, and it does not seem to me in 
accordance with the principles- of our Eepublican government. It reminds 
me too much of the revolutionary committees appointed to take charge of 
legislative affairs in the revolutionary times of France. God forbid that the 
same unholy ambition should ever seize any of the leaders in our legislative 
body, or tempt them to emulate such bad examples 1 I do not know, how- 
ever, nor do you know, into what extremities passion may lead desperate and 
daring men ; and from the bottom of my heart I thank the President of the 
United States for recalling the attention of Congress and the nation to the 
great fundamental princiyiles which underlie our institutions, and upon 
which our government, if it is to be permanent, must always rest. 

" The President, in his annual message, and in this Veto Message, has laid 
down principles, without the maintenance of which this government cannot 
exist and continue to be Republican. Either we must adhere to those prin- 
ciples, or we must cease to be in fact, whatever we may be in form, a Eepub- 
lican government. We may, if we abandon them, still have a Congress ; we 
may still go through all the forms Of election under the Constitution; we 
may vote by universal suffrage ; we may still have one in power at Washing- 
ton who shall be called simply a President ; but you will find that ' the like- 
ness of a kingly crown ' will sit upon his head, and ho will wield more than 
kingly power, unless the principles laid down by the President continue to 
form the basis of our government. Eepublican governments are rarely, if 


eve]^ overthrown by open and hostile force; they are undermined; their 
principles are disregarded, and other principles creep in under those very 
Republican forms which conceal their real nature. The Emperor of France 
sits on his Imperial throne to-day by virtue of universal suffrage ; and his 
puppet Maximilian in Mexico holds his deputized authority there nominally 
in the name of the Mexican people. Forms are nothing when the spirit of 
despotism exists, when the purpose to create despotic authority pervades any 
considerable body of influential men in the State, and they have the power to 
^ive effect to their wishes. In such a case it makes little difference whether 
they abolish Bepublican forms, or infuse their poison into the veins of the 
body politic under those forms. 

" James Madison, who, perhaps, more than any other man, was cognizant 
of the principles which were laid down in the Constitution of the United 
States, in one of the numbers of the Federalist, — I forget which one, — sol- 
emnly warns the American people that usurpation is much more to be 
dreaded on the part of Congress than on the part of the Executive ; and he 
warns the people always to watch encroachments upon their liberties at the 
hands of Congress rather than on the part of the President of the United 
States. I cannot help thinking that the events of this passing time give 
practical force and weight to that solemn warning from that high authority; 
for I see that while in Congress there is a steady pressure for universal suf- 
frage in the States, including all colors and all races, there is at the same 
moment an equally steady pressure at "Washington for the consolidation of 
Federal power. There seems at first view to be a discrepancy here; but 
there is not the least in point of fact. Universal suffrage may only create 
more tools wherewith despotic power shall work out its own decrees. [A 
voice, ' That's the talk ! '] 

" It behooves us to watch with jealous care the dawnings of usurpation. I 
have never been, of course, as all or nearly all of you have been, the advocate 
or disciple of that particular doctrine of State rights which was held in the 
Southern States, which gave to each State the right of sovereignty even 
against the superior sovereignty of the United States. Yet I have always 
held to the doctrine of the State rights as it is laid down in the Constitution 
of the United States, and I believe to-day that it is far more important for us 
to maintain those State rights as they actually exist and are recognized in 
the Constitution, than it it is to increase the authority of the Federal Govern- 
ment. That authority, as events have shown, is ample for all emergencies. 
Why, who can raise any question hereafter abont this Republic not being a 
strong government? We hear those sneers from the other side of the water 
sometimes, when they tell us that because we have no King and no Parlia- 
ment, and depend wholly upon the will of the people, that therefore our gov- 
ernment is weak. Our English brethren (we may as well give them that title 
as any other) [Laughter] told us from the beginning that the moment the emer- 
gency came to test the strength of our government it would fail ; and they 
consoled themselves and cheered each other by repeating, during the first 
two years of our war, the comforting assurance that the Republic had failed, 
and that their predictions had been fulfilled. There is an adage that ' he 
laughs loudest who laughs last.' [Laughter and applause.] 

" I think, according to present indications from the same quarter, that they 
have made up their minds that this government has not failed. It proved its 


Strength in the crisis through frhich it passed ; and there is not a single Eng- 
lishman to-day who will not acknowledge to you that his own country could 
not thus go through a four years' war involving anything like the difficulties 
from which ours has successfully emerged. This government is to-day the 
strongest government in the world, because it has the will of the people 
for its basis and the Constitution of the United States for their guide. [Loud 
cheers.] The Federal Government is strong enough for all emergencies. 
We do not need to add to its strength, for that has been shown to be suffi- 
cient by the last four years of war. But we do need to maintain intact and 
in all their integrity those rights of personal freedom, control of personal 
action, laws of property, laws of crime, everything relating to localities, — 
we do need to maintain those rights in the States with a jealous eye. [Ap- 
plause.] It may seem very well to announce to-day the policy and propriety 
of exercising absolute power in Washington over the rebel States because 
they have been in rebellion, and because we have by force subjected them to. 
our will; but if you once establish the idea that the government can exercise 
absolute authority, without regard to the restrictions of the Constitution, 
over any one State, and you will find that every other State as well may be 
subjected to the same power under other circumstances. To-day it may be 
South Carolina, but who will say that to-morrow it will not be Massachusetts 
or New York? [Applause.] It will depend entirely upon the accidental as- 
cendency of political parties what States shall feel the power so created. 
We cannot afford to have the rights of States thus placed at the absolute 
control and discretion of any party at any time in Congress or elsewhere. 
We have a written charter of liberty — a written guide for our conduct; and 
that man to-day is the best statesman — that man from the day our country 
was formed has been the best statesman — who adheres most closely and 
rigidly and conscientiously to the letter and the spirit of that great instru- 
ment. [Applause.] 

" Now, fellow-citizens, I for one believe these things to be true ; so believ- 
ing, I have acted upon them thus far during my short career in Congress, 
and I shall endeavor to do it to the end. [Cheers, and a voice : 'And we will 
stand by you ! '] I have no fears of public disapproval, not because I do not 
respect the popular will, for there is nothing to which I bow with more abso- 
lute deference, but because I have the most unconquerable faith that the 
people, the real government of this counti-y, is a people of intelligence, 
of wisdom, of patriotism, and of devotion to the principles of the Constitu- 
tion. And I know that in the end those principles will be maintained. I 
deprecate any temporary disturbance of the harmony that should exist 
among people having the same objects and the same purposes in view. 
But better even that, than a permanent departure of our government from 
the constitutional path in which alone they can walk with safety and with 

" There is a great deal said about the disloyal spirit of the Southern States. 
I have no doubt that there is a great deal of discontent and ill-feeling toward 
the North, and perhaps toward the government of the United States, in the 
South, but I have known and watched carefully this state of facts. When 
the armies of the Southern rebellion first surrendered, the whole Southern 
peoi)le surrendered with them. There seemed to be an entire abandon-. 


ment of everything which they had ever claimed as peculiarly belonging to 
them, and a submission to the will of the United States as a conquered 
people. That lasted all through the summer; during all the time that the 
President was directing the action of the government, and all the time that 
he was imposing upon them obligations, and advising them as to what meas- 
ures they had better talie. I say their relations with the government, all 
the time that he was thus using his power as the Executive to set in motion 
the machinery of the State Governments, and bring the South into practical 
relations with the Federal Government, this feeling of loyalty, this desire 
to return, this willingness to be on the best terms with us in the North, 
constantly increased in the Southern States. I am not prepared to say that 
it is as strong to-day as It was four months ago ; but I cannot help saying 
that it began to decay just when Congress met, and began to denounce them, 
and repel all their efforts to return to the Union they had endeavored to de- 

" If, therefore, there is an increase of ill-feeling, my own conviction is, 
that we may justly ascribe it to the language and action of Congress, and of 
some presses and men in the Northern States. [Applause.] But suppose it 
to exist now, and that this is not the cause of it ; what is to be done about 
it? Are we to exclude those States forever from the duties, the power, and 
the responsibilities of this government? Are we to excuse them from paying 
their share of the interest and principal of our public debt? Are we never 
to look to them again to swell the great tide of our commerce, which, before 
the war, whitened every sea, and brought treasure from the ends of the earth 
to our imperial coffers ? Why, certainly, no one dreams of this. We must 
collect ^ur taxes there, they say. How? Collect taxes to pay our debts 
from subjugated provinces at the point of the bayonet, by. deputies from 
Washington, sent down there from the North? Treat them as subjugated 
provinces, and do nothing toward restoring their prosperity ? Why, this is 
the dream of a madman ! Every section of any country that had men in it 
fit to live, would become exasperated and goaded into rebellion within one 
year after such a policy should be inaugurated. [Applause.] And we, more- 
over, should be deprived of the consolation of believing their rebellion 
wrong. It is precisely that which drove our fathers into rebellion. 

"Read the Declaration of Independence, — the recitation there of the 
wrongs that justified that great revolution, and you will see that they are the 
identical wrongs which a portion of our people at the North propose to in- 
flict upon the Southern States to-day. If it were right to do this, or if the 
Constitution gave us power to do it, we could not afford to do it. This gov- 
ernment cannot afford to treat with despotic power and arbitrary rule any 
portion of this nation, no matter how small that part, or how great its sins 
may have been. [Cheers, and cries of ' Good ! '] If this Republic is to live 
at all through time to come, it is to livfr as the great exemplar of self-gov- 
ernment, where all the subjects of law have a voice in making that law, and 
in choosing men by whom that law shall be made and carried into effect. 
And we should do ourselves an infinitely greater wrong than we should do 
them, if we continued permanently to make laws for the Southern States, 
and not allow them any influence or voice in the mailing of those laws. 
" I need not tell you that I say this from no sympathy with the rebels who 


plunged oiir country Into so desolating and terrible a war. You here, who 
know and watch my political course, for I am compelled to express my opin- 
ions upon public topics from day to day, instead of concealing them for six 
months, and then adapting them to the emergencies of the occasion 
[Laughter] — you all know that, from the very day that this war was tlireat- 
ened, I have done everything in my power to enforce its prosecution 
with the utmost vigor. [Cries of ' Yes, yes ! ' and ' Good ! '] We had one duty 
to perform, and that was to crash it. When it is crushed, we have another 
duty to perform. Our lamented President, before he fell by the hands of the 
assassin, declared that it was our duty now to bind up the wounds of the na- 
tion, to take care of the orphan and the widow, and see to it that peace was 
restored to all sections, and to do this ' with malice toward none and with 
charity for all." [Great applause.] It is a sentiment which any man might 
willingly die by ; it is a sentiment which it is every man's duty to live by. 

" Now, fellow-citizens, I hope that reflection and the subsidence of passion 
will lead all our people, in Congress and elsewhere, to see that we are to live 
with these people of the Southern States who have been in rebellion as fel- 
low-citizens in peace and amity for all time to come. As living under one 
common flag, we are to see to it that we so cultivate in the minds of these 
men the spirit of patriotism and of loyalty that when we next meet on the 
battle-field it shall be side by side under that common flag, battling against 
despotisms and despotic powers whenever they may^ threaten our peace. 
[Loud applause.] 

" If we are to have peace at all, we must seek it in the ways of peace, not 
in the ways of malice, hatred, and uncharitableness. We must be willing to 
let the past bury its dead, and to live for the present and for future genera- 
tions. We mui!t consult the welfare and growth of the Southern States as 
essential parts of our common union. We must do what we can to renew 
and reinvigorate the sources of their prosperity, to build up and aid the new 
development of Industry upon which they have entered, which is as new aud 
strange to them as the climate in which they live would be new to most of us 
from this Northern sphere. We must aid them, aud not check and retard 
them, in their new career. We hope for such a state of things as will lead 
men of capital in the North to go down there, mingle freely with their peo- 
ple, aud join their efforts for their common good, and that the men at the 
South shall communicate as freely with the North. With this spirit we shall 
have no difficulty in restoring more friendly relations than have hitherto ex- 
isted, for the great source of our dislikes, distrusts, jealousies, and hatreds 
has been removed forever. 

" Why, then, should we not join in this common cause ? I believe we have 
a President who has at heart, more than any other particular sentiment of 
his being, the purpose to restore this nation to the relations of amity and 
peace from one end to the other, [Loud applause.] It seems to me that 
the course he has adopted is not only the wisest, the most just, and most 
likely to produce good results, but It is the one which in the end must bo 
adopted, for neither Congress, nor any other power, can keep these States 
out permanently. If this Congress chooses not to admit a State, loyal or 
disloyal, we shall very soon have a Congress which will do it [Hearty ap» 


plause], and one that I am afraid will be much less careful in the distinction 
it will draw between the loyal and the disloyal than we are. 

" This is one reason of my anxiety to have the present Administration and 
the present Congress bring about that great result. I believe they will do it 
wisely. I believe they will admit none but loyal men, — loyal to the Con- 
stitution and loyal to the Union, — who feel the same interest with us in 
promoting the common prosperity of our common country. The President 
proposes to restore the Union by the practical method of admitting loyal 
representatives of loyal constituents to take their seats in Congress just as 
fast as they shall be sent to Washington for that purpose. Congress pro- 
poses to exclude them — but it proposes nothing else. All its acts are mere 
obstructions. — purely negative, denying everything and accomplishing noth- 
ing. Why does it not bring forward its practical measures ? Why does it 
not propose either to make these States provinces or territories, and govern 
them si-sordinglyf Why does it not prescribe terms and conditions of ad- 
mission? Why does it not put into the form of laws some of its theories of 
dead States, of confiscation, and of government by deputy? Why does it not 
exercise the power it is so fond of asserting ? 

" If the President is a usurper, who has forfeited his head, why does it 
not impeach him? Why content itself with talking and scolding about what 
the President is doing, instead of doing something positive and practical 
itself? Now, my fellow-citizens, you know better than I can tell you that it 
is with you — the pejjple of the Nation — that the final decision of this great 
question rests. You are the final arbiters of this great dispute. The desti- 
nies of the Union, which your armies have saved, rest upon your wisdom and 
your fidelity. We, who are in Congress to execute your will, have but a 
short time to live ; our official existence is very ephemeral ; our action is really 
of but trifling and temporary importance. In our two years of service, how- 
ever badly we may behave, we can really inflict but little injury upon the long 
life of this great and vigorous nation. Its strength resists our most wicked 
blows — its vitality quickly heals the slight wounds we can inflict. If we act 
unwisely, you will very soon replace us by those who better understand, or 
will more faithfully execute, your wise behests. If we serve you and our 
country with discretion, with fidelity, and patriotic purposes that rise above 
all passions and all selfishness, you will give us that approval which is the 
only fitting recompense a public man can receive for good service to his coun- 
try and his age. [Loud and long-continued applause.] " 

In September, 1866, Mr. Raymond declined a re-nomination to 
Congress, which had been tendered to him by the Conservative 
Eepublicans of New York. The letter conveying the request 
that he would again permit the use of his name, bore the sig- 
nature;5 of well-known citizens, and is here appended : — 

" Hon. TlENRr J. Eatmond, — 

" Dear Sie : — As the time is drawing near for the selecting of a candidate 
for the next Congress, we deem it proper to address you as our present Kep- 


resentative, to communicate what we believe to be the sentiments and wishes 
of the large majority of the union voters of this District. 

" Your constituents fully appreciate the delicate and difficult task which has 
devolved upon you to perform during the present Congress. New and ex- 
traordinary measures have been submitted for legislative action, the very 
discussion of which might well have appalled the most profound and experi- 
enced statesmen ; and we venture to say, that no member, however wise and 
patriotic, if at all active and outspoken, has been able to so shape his speech- 
es, or his votes, as to meet with the unqualified approbation of all his con- 
stituents. Amid all the diversity of opinion upon the great political 
questions of the day, we have watched with no little solicitude your legisla- 
tive career; and we have found you ready and able in debate, and fully equal 
to any emergency. You have, under the most trying circumstances, given 
utterance to your sentiments, and have sustained your views with marked 
ability and power. We admire your acknowledged statesmanship, and have 
implicit confidence in your political integrity, while we are proud to be rep- 
resented by one who, in so short a time, has attained so high a rank in our 
national councils. 

" In view of these facts, together with your ripe experience as a legislator, 
your thorough knowledge of the very important questions which still agitate 
and divide the people, we think it highly desirable that you should be contin- 
ued in the office which, thus far, yon have so ably filled. 

" We, therefore, beg leave to ask the privilege of presenting your name as a 
candidate for re-election. Should you be the choice of the convention of 
the Sixth Congressional District, we doubt not that yon Will receive, at the 
polls, the cordial support of all who favor the union, peace, and prosperity 
of our common country. 

" We remain, yours, etc., 

T. B. Stettaet, E. Dennison, 

Peter Gilset, John Ceeightoit, 

K. M. Blatchfokd, Obadiau N. Cusninqham, 

E. C. Benedict, Jeremiah PANGBUEif, 

Andrew Carrigan, Datid Huylee, 

Paul S. Forbes, John P. Hone, 

A. W. Bradford, Wm. H. Albertson, 

Isaac N. Comstock, Eobert Beattt, 

Charles Lefler, Edward Gridlby, 

Joseph P. Bdll, ' Egbert R. Carpenter, 

M. Freligh, M.D., James Wares, 

W. F. Havebieyer, Gilbert J. Hunter, 

IvERSON W. Knapp, Cyrus W. Price, 

Herman G. Carter, Wm. Squire, 

Stephen A. Pierce, H. S. Gough, 

M. WiCKHAM, Jos. BriTTON, 

W. 0. Dennison, Stephen Pell, 

Charles Johnson, George B. Beane, 

William Youngs, Joseph Souder, 

Samuel Longstreet, William Q. Spencer, 

James W. Booth, J. MoFarland, 

James Harbison, Thomas Lausbfrv^ 



Jambs Tobng, Eoe't Edwabds, 

Thomas L. Beebe, George Starb, 

B. Skaats, Major W. Edwards, 

James More, Geo. W. Bush, 

Alexander Shaw, Goversedr M. Crist, 

Alexander Pairsok, Jesse Travis, 

James L. Selden, Edward F. Brown, 

James J. Davis, Jacob Varian, 

William E. Devlinq, Mark M. Doeson, 

John Armstrong, Edgene Ward, 

James Magee, Sbwell V. Dodge, 

J. Dennison, HESKr Wilson, 

William Tayloe, John Shannon, 

William Fitto, Geo. W. Bogeet, 

G. Rengermann, J. Henderson, 

G. Tierman, J. C. Gregory, 

Charles H. Morrison, Wm. M. Whitney, 

James W. Farr, Wm. H. Van Tassel, 

Richard T. Edwards, Thos. P. Detoe." 

Mr. Eaymond's reply was a stronger justification of himself 
than that contained in the speech before quoted ; the personal 
character of a correspondence giving him opportunity for 
explanation. It is due to his memory that this letter should 
be placed upon^record : — it is also but a simple act of justice 
for the reader to weigh carefully the reasons assigned by Mr. 
Raymond for his course in Congress (especially in relation to 
the Freedman's Bureau bill) , and in the Philadelphia Conven- 
tion. The letter was as follows : — 

" New York, Saturday, Sept. 15, 18(18. 

"Gentlbmbx: — I thank you most heartily for the expression of regard 
and confldence tendered to me as your Representative in Congress. I can- 
not accept as deserved tlie compliments you pay me upon the manner in 
which the duties of that position have been discharged ; but I do accept, and 
am very grateful for them, as evidences of the kindly interest with which 
you have followed my course, and of the charitable construction you have 
placed upon my acts. I am especially gratified by your appreciation of the 
e'xtreme difliculties of my position, and of the impossibility of meeting the 
wishes and expectations of all classes of those who gave me their votes, 
without sacrificing that independence of judgment and of action which alone 
makes a seat in Congress either useful or desirable. 

" When I was elected, in the fall of 1864, the war had not closed, but its 
end was foreseen, and the question of restoring the Union had engaged a 
large degree of public attention. President Lincoln, in the previous March, 
had tendered full amucsty and pardon to such of the inhabitants of the 
States in rebellion, with certain specified exceptions, as would take an oath 
of allegiance to the Constitution of the United States, and to the laws of 
Congress, and tlSe j^iwolamatioas of the Executive on the subject of slavery 


and had pledged himself to recognize and guarantee, as Eepublican in form, 
any State Government which such inhabitants might set up, provided they 
were in number one-tenth of the votes cast in such State at the election of 
1860. In June, the National Union Convention at Baltimore adopted resolu- 
tions substantially indorsing the principles npou which this action of the 
President was based. My own position at the time of my nomination was 
well understood. I had repeatedly declared, in speeches and from day to day 
in the columns of the newspaper under my control, that I regarded the States as 
still within the Union ; that the war had in no respect enlarged the authority 
conferred upon Congress by the Constitution, and that the suppression of the re- 
bellion would fully re-establish the supremacy of that fundamental law. I was 
elected upon this platform, and so far as I was aware no one questioned its 
substantial accord with the sentiment of the Union party. When Mr. John- 
son became President, after the close of the war, he made it the basis of his 
official action, and set in motion the machinery of government in the Southern 
States in conformity with its requirements. And the Union State Convention 
held at Syracuse, in September, 18G5, passed a resolution approving his ac- 
tion, indorsing the policy of kindness and conciliation out of which it grew, 
and p'ledging to it their support. 

" When I tooli my seat in Congress I endeavored to act in conformity with 
these principles to which I was thus pledged. When a difference of opinion 
arose between the' President and Congress, I did all in my power to prevent Us 
growing into hostility, for I could see nothing but ruin to the Union party and 
disaster to the country from such a breach between the two departments of the 
government. I soon found myself separated in this coarse from the majority 
of the Union party ; but as the differences did not seem to be vital, or to 
touch principles upon which the party had ever pledged its members, I con- 
tinued to act upon my own convictions of justice aud of public policy. I 
voted and spolie always for the recognition of all the States as States in the 
Union, — for recognizing as valid the State Governments organized within 
them in conformity with the proclamations of Presidents Lincoln and John- 
son, — and for completing the restoration of the Union by admitting to their 
seats in Congress loyal members elected from loyal States, who could take 
the oath prescribed by law, In conformity with what seemed to me the intent 
and meaning of the Constitution of the United States. And to prevent any 
intrusion into the preliminary action of Congress of men who could not take 
the oath prescribed by law, I Introduced a resolution instructing the Judiciary 
Committee to report a bill changing the existing practice In regard to the 
admission of members. At present any person whose name the clerk may 
put upon the roll Is permitted to vote for speaker, — the most important act 
of the whole session, — even If he should refuse the next hour to take any 
oath at all. I proposed to require every member to take the oath before 
taking any part In the organization of the House. This, It seemed to me, 
would afford a full and sufiScient safeguard against the admission into Con- 
gress of men who had taken an active part in the rebellion. The resolution 
passed the House ; but the committee did not see fit to report the bill. 

" Upon Incidental questions that arose during the session, I endeavored to 
act with a wise regard to the public welfare. I voted for the Freedman's Bu- 
reau Sill when first presented, because I deemed the object it sought to secure, 


namely, the protection, support, and care of the enfranchised slaves, to he of the 
utmost importance. When it was returned by the President, I acquiesced in his 
objections, mainly in consideration of the fact that the existing law would not ex- 
pire until April, 1867, and that the present Congress would have an opportunity, 
after a more full experience of its operation, to take such action in regard to it as 
that experience might show to be essential. '* 

" The Civil Rights Bill, when presented in the form of a law, I did not sup- 
port, because I believed, in common with Messrs. Bingham and Delano of 
Ohio, Hale, of New York, and other able Union lawyers, all of whom spoke 
against it, that some of its provisions were not warranted by the Constitu- 
tion. But I introduced a bill to attain the same practical object by declaring 
all persons born on the soil of the United States to be citizens thereof, and 
entitled to the rights, privileges, and immunities of citizens, in courts of law 
and elsewhere ; and when this provision was afterward presented as an 
amendment to the Constitution, I gave it my support, in speeches and by my 

" And when, after a delay which seemed to me utterly needless, and calcu- 
lated only to excite public passion and embitter political feeling, the Eecon- 
struction Committee reported the Constitutional Amendment now pending in 
the several States for ratification, I gave it my vote, as I had previously 
supported every principle it embodied in various speeches during the ses- 
sion. I think the main principles of that amendment eminently wise and 
proper, and I trust it will be adopted by this State, and by enough others to 
become part of the fundamental law. I think every native of the country 
should be a citizen of the country; that the inequality of representation as 
proportioned to voters now enjoyed by the South should be corrected; 
that the prominent participants in the rebellion should not share for a time 
at least in the Federal Government; that the rebel debt should never be 
recognized or paid ; and that Congress should have power to make laws to 
carry these provisions into effect. 

" While I concurred with the Union party in Congress in supporting the 
amendment in which these principles were embodied, I differed from some 
of them in thinking that it should be submitted to the free judgment of the 
people in all the States, and that its adoption should not be made a condi- 
tion precedent to the admission of any State into the Union, or of its repre- 
sentatives into Congress. I can find no authority for such a requirement in 
the Constitution of the tJulted States, and I do not feel at liberty, as a 
member of Congress, to exercise a power not conferred by that fundamental 

" 1 bellevul at the outset ol the session that lennessee and Arkansas were 
loyal States ; that they had loyal governments, republican in form, with loyal 
State officers throughout ; that the Senators and Representatives they had 
sent to Congress were loyal men, who could take the oath required by law ; 
and that they ought to be admitted to their seats iu either House, if that 
House should find, upon due inquiry, that they had been elected, returneti, 
and qualified according to law. I did all in my power to secure that result. 
I believed that such action promptly taken would avert the peril, since be- 
come so real and so disastrous, of a serious breach between the executive 
and legislative departments of the government ; and that it would, without In- 


volving any risk of admitting unsafe or dangerous men into Congress, give 
such an example to tlie other Southern States, as would encourage the sen- 
timent of loyalty among their people, and bring them into accord, sooner or 
later, with the sentiment and policy of the Union party. 

" I continued my efforts in that direction, in Congress and out, so long as 
I deemed them likely to be of the slightest service to the Union cause ; and, 
as an important step toward that result, and toward the re-establishment of a 
common Union basis, upon which men of all sections could again unite in com- 
mon efforts for the common good, I took part in a convention of delegates from 
all the States, held at Philadelphia, in August last, and endeavored, in concert 
with others, not without a gratif^^ing degree of success, to secure the assent 
of leading men from the Southern as well as from the Northern States, to 
the principles decided by the war ; to the abandonment of the doctrine of 
secession, to the extirpation of slavery, the perpetual integrity of the Union, 
the supremacy of the Constitution, the invalidity of all obligations incurred 
in rebellion against the government, the inviolability of the public debt, and 
the equal protection by law, and by equal access to courts of law, of all 
the citizens of all the States, without distinction of race or color. I believed, 
and still believe, that in this I was endeavoring to do a useful and patriotic work, 
fully in harmony with the principles of the Union party. Nor in seeking to 
promote such concert of action as should, while accomplishing these results, 
also lead to the election of members of Congress favorable to the admission 
of loyal men from loyal States, did I deem myself to be taking a course hos- 
tile to any purposes or objects which that party has ever sought to attain. 

" Whether the policy I have thus pursued was wise and just, or not, it is 
for others rather than me to judge. I believed it at the time to be eminently 
conducive to the peace and prosperity of the country. And I still think, 
that if the President and the Union majority in Congress could have agreed 
upon the admission of representatives from loyal States, who can take the 
oath required by law, they could also have agreed in support of the Consti- 
tutional Amendment, and of such other measures as might be required to 
satisfy the solicitous loyalty of the country, and re-establish its free institu- 
tions upon a solid and permanent foundation. And if such an agreement 
could still be reached, in spite of all that has occurred on both sides to exas- 
perate public sentiment, I should not even yet despair that it might be fal- 
lowed by such results. 

" But the possibility of such concord of action between the President and 
Congress grows more and more remote. The rash and intemperate action 
by which leading men in Congress attempted to coerce or override the Pres- 
ident has produced its legitimate results. The old contest between the 
Union party which stood by the government in its struggle with the rebel- 
lion, and the Democratic party which resisted and opposed it, is again 
renewed. I am disappointed that the controversy should have taken this 
shape. I hoped and believed that the differences of opinion, on the subject 
of representation, which prevailed in the Union party, could be settled within 
its own ranks, without involving the risk of bringing the Democratic party 
again into power. Everything that I have done has been done in that hope 
and to that end. In the face of evident and signal failure, I claim nothing for 
my action but a sincere purpose to promote the peace and harmony of the 


whole country, by extending over the whole country and nationalizing the 
principles established by the war. I acted according to my best judgment, — 
confirmed by that of men to whose wisdom and patriotic devotion to the pub- 
lic good I have been accustomed to defer during the whole of my public life. 
If I erred In this I am consoled for my error by your kindly, construction of 
its motive, and by your recognition of some degree of independence as not 
unbecoming your Representative in Congress. i 

" You have assumed, and with perfect justice, that I am now as I was 
when elected two years ago, — as I have always been, and shall always re- 
main, — a member of the Union party, holding the faith as declared in its 
conventions, seeking its welfare, and striving for advancement and reform, 
in everything touching the public good, through its agency. With the Demo- 
cratic party, as it has been organized and directed since the rebellion broke out, 
Ihave nothing in common, and should regard it, and should regard its re-estab- 
lished ascendency in the government of the country. State or national, as a 
public calamity. There are no perils impending over the country which de- 
mand resort to so desperate a remedy, or which can be averted by it ; and I 
have implicit faith that the people, while checking the excesses of rash and 
extreme men in the Union party, will stilFcommit to its hands the restora- 
tion of the Union which its courage and devotion have saved. 

" I am greatly obliged to yon for your request that I would allow my name 
to be used as a candidate for re-election. But there are many considerations 
which would render this unwise. My past action does not command the ap- 
proval of a" large body among those who originally gave me their votes ; and 
apart from such approval, so far as it can be had consistently with proper 
independence of personal opinion, a seat in Congress ceases to have for me any 
attraction, or to offer any opportunity for useful public service; and I shall best 
consult my own self-respect, as well as the sentiments of my constituents and the 
interest of the Union cause, by withdrawing my name from the canvass altogether. 
This involves no special sacrifice on my part, as I shall easily find opportuni- 
ties, whether in oflSce or out, for promoting Union principles, and for evinc- 
ing my gratitude to you for the kindness and confidence with which you have 
sustained my efforts hitherto. 

" Very respectfully, your obedient servant, 

" Henry J. Eatmonb." 

As a part of the history of the time, and also in explanation 
of the bitter hostility which followed Mr. Eaymond to his 
grave,, the editorial comments of the Tribune on the foregoing 
letter should be preserved. Mr. Greeley, in 1866, repre- 
sented the extreme Northern sentiment, and the Tribune wsu* 
(he mouthpiece of the party which threw Mr. Raymond over- 
board. The expression of that journal was, therefore, the 
expression of the most relentless of Mr. Raymond's opponents. 
While the War lasted, Mr. Greeley had counselled the necessity 
of making peace with the rebels, and had fallen into a tremor 


of apprehension in 1863 ; but when the sun again shone from 
behind the cloud, he grew brave, and attacked Mr. Eaymond in 
the following terms : — 


" Mr. H. J. Raymond's elaborate letter declining a nomination to the For- 
tieth Congress is before us ; and, if it were simply an apology for his course, 
the Union party would cheerfully accept it. But, in attempting to excuse his 
errors, Mr. Raymond aggravates them. He has chosen to rehearse his recent 
career, when he might far better have left so delicate a matter alone. A par- 
tial confession is worse than none. 

•' That Mr. Raymond frequently voted in Congress with the Union party, 
we know; and that is the very fact which made his subsequent opposition to 
its principles a political crime. Had he been elected as a Copperhead, no one 
could have complained that he acted as a Copperhead, and had Judas been 
one of the Pharisees instead of one of the disciples, he would not be the 
worst example that Presidents and Congressmen can follow. It will hardly 
do to plead past fidelity to a party as an excuse for present treachery. Yet 
this Mr. Raymond does without blushing. He voted for the Freedman's 
Bureau Bill, because he believed its object of the utmost importance ; he sus- 
tained the President's veto, because the existing law will not expire till 1867. 
How easily, an excuse is found when it is needed ! Mr. Raymond, on the same 
principle, voted for the Constitutional Amendment, affecting now to believe 
its provisions necessary to the safety of the Union, and yet sought to obtain 
the admission of the Rebel States without requiring that they should ratify 
It. Did he not know that they would never ratify it, could they get back into 
the Union without? We thought it was only Mr. Johnson who used the stul- 
tifying argument that the Rebel States should have a voice in determining the 
penalties of Rebellion, as if a criminal at the bar should also be a member of 
the jury. The Coustitutlonal Amendment owes Mr. Raymond nothing ; but 
its enemies are indebted to him for the direct encouragement he gave them at 
the Philadelphia Convention. When his address declared that Congress had 
no right to require its adoption of the Rebel States, he yielded the vital point 
in the whole struggle. 

" But Mr. Raymond's- letter is more of a desultory narration than an argu- 
ment, and need not be more closely followed. The gentlemen who offered 
him the chance of a nomination complimented his statesmanship before they 
had read his reply, or they might have been more chary of their praise. 
Statesmen rarely vote for a bill, and then to sustain a veto thereof, and the 
country has not yet forgotten that, in 1864, Mr. Raymond opposed the Consti- 
tutional Amendment abolishing slavery, on the ground that it would divide 
the Union party. That was the grand measure that recreated it, and placed 
it high above all danger of dissolution. His present regrets that the party is 
divided are unnecessary; for the desertion of Mr. Johnson and his car-load 
can scarcely constitute a division, even in the opinion of their warmest 
admirers. That he believes the success of the Democratic party would be a 
national calamity, we are glad to know, and only wish that he had thought 


so when he tried to secure Gen. Dix's nomination at Albany. Finally, in the 
enumeration of his reasons for declining a nomination for Congress in the 
Sixth District, we are compelled to thinli he has omitted the most potent, — 
that he had not the slightest chance of getting it. 

" Yet we rejoice, for his sake as well as the country's, that Mr. Raymond's 
unquestioned talents and industry are henceforth to be employed to sustain 
and strengthen the great and patriotic party he so recently sought to destroy. 
Of that party, the Republic has still urgent need; nor will its mission be com- 
plete till the fun rights of citizenship are secured to every native and every 
naturalized citizen of the United States, and from the St. John to the Rio 
Grande, from the Bay of Fundy to Pnget's Sound, there shall be no degraded 
caste, no unfranchised people, but the rights of the whole American people 
shall have been forever placed under the protection and safeguard of the 
votes of each and all." 

A careful comparison of Mr. Eaymond's letter ynth the 
hostile cciticism upon it, shows, on the one hand, that while 
Eaymond was actuated by motives unquestionably pure, his 
natural tendency to temporize led him into acts more merciful 
than just ; and, on the other hand, that the very frankness of 
his admissions, and the earnestness of his apology, werfe re- 
ceived with derisive mirth by those who exulted over his polit- 
ical downfall. If there was error on one side, there were also 
discourtesy and injustice on the other. Acknowledgment of a 
fault is, by common courtesy, accepted as the end of contro- 
versy ; but, in the case of Mr. Eaymond, his enemies lefused 
him even this grace.. 









At the close of the Thirty-Mnth Congress, Mr. Eaymond 
returned to New York, to resume his duties as Editor of the 
Times. That paper had become exceedingly profitable, — 
partly through the personal exertions of Mr. Eaymond in a 
period of sixteen years, and partly through the energy and 
well-directed skill of its publisher, Mr. George Jones.* 
Under all circumstances, it had been a good newspaper; and 
even at the time when Mr. Eaymond himself suffered tempo-r 
rary eclipse, in consequence of his political mistakes, its read- 
erg looked to it for early intelligence of the actions and the 
thoughts of the world. The work upon the Times, regarded 
simply as newspaper labor, was uniformly good : — its Editor 
fell into errors of opinion, and his editorial utterances were 
sometimes distasteful to his friends ; but the paper suffered no 
losses so severe as those which had previously been inflicted, 

♦In the chapter entitled " The Foundation of the New York Times," men- 
tion has been made of the earlier financial relations of Mr. Jones and Mr. 
Eaymond. It is proper to add that a long and close personal friendship had 
preceded their partnership; and that their mutual confidence and respect 
continued unimpaired until the hour of Mr. Raymond's death. Mr. Jones is 
a native of Vermont, and has been actively engaged in business, chiefly in 
Albany and New York, since the year 1833. His capacity, integrity, and 
experience have been of untold value to the Times. 


through similar causes, upon its older contemporaries. At 
last, convinced of the errors into which he had been led, Eay- 
mond relinquished the pursuit of political honors forever, -when 
he had finished his term of office as a Representative in Con- 
gress, and went back to the office of the Times, — once more 
a journalist, never again to be a politician. Unhappily for 
himself, and unhappily for his friends, his days were already 

Exhausted by his long and exciting struggle in the political 
field, worn by anxiety and chagrin, and yearning for rest, he 
resolved to pass a few months in Europe in the companionship 
of his family, whose members had been domiciled in Paris for 
several years. On the eve of his departure, in the early sum- 
mer of 1867, he was tendered the compliment of a farewell din- 
ner, by a large number of his fellow-journalists and others. 
The banquet was given at the Athenaeum Club House in New 
York, and Mr. Charles A. Dana presided. Reverend Henry 
Ward Beecher, unable to attend, sent the following graceful 
letter : — 

" Pebkskili,, Thursday, July 11, 1867. 
''Hon. Chakles A. Dana: 

" Dear Sir : — It would give me pleasure, if I were in town, to accept your 
invitation to a dinner in honor of Mr. Raymond, before his departure for 

"His services to the country during the great struggle which has changed 
the history of this nation were such as to entitle him to the gratitude of every 
patriot. I shall not forget the dark periods of that struggle, and I know who 
they were who animated the courage of our citizens, who, without wavering, 
maintained hope of a favorable result, and labored intelligently and bravely 
for it. 

" The first critical period was that between the election of Mr. Lincoln and 
his inauguration, when e\ery effort was made to intimidate the Republican 
party, and to Induce them to relinquish, by a base compromise, the advan- 
tage gained by the verdict of the people, after a fair and unexampled canvass. 
Our second dark period extended between the first battle of Bull Run and the 
battle of Gettysburgh. 

" I desire to express to Mr. Raymond my gratitnde for his firmness, sagac- 
ity, and undeviating cotirage through these trying periods. Courage Is easy 
now. The whole world is at our back. Then the world was against us ; 
defeats lowered, and victories lingered. Courage then was worth arms and 
armed men to a cause which was to triumph only through much tribulation 


" Ibeg you to convey to Mr. Eaymond the expression of my esteem, and 
my best wishes for his prosperous voyage and speedy return. 
" I am truly yours, 

" Henry Ward Beechbr." 

After the reading of this Jetter, speeches were delivered by 
several gentlemen ; Mr. Dana leading with a toast in honor of 
Mr. Raymond, and dwelling with great felicity upon the varied 
public services of the guest of the evening. Mr. Dana recurred 
to the period of his first introduction to Mr. Raymond, which 
had taken place more than twenty years before, in a lumbered 
and dusty attic in Ann Street (No. 30). The attic was the 
editorial oflice of the Tribune, and the person who gave the 
introduction was Horace Greeley. "I remember," said Mr. 
Dana, "that first meeting with Mr. Raymond very well. I 
remember that we sat down together, and at once plunged 
into a long talk on German philosophy and metaphysics ; for 
we were both younger and nearer our college days at that time 
than we are at present." 

Continuing in a vein of anecdotic reminiscence, Mr. Dana, 
in a peculiarly happy manner, adverted to the uniform kindness 
and courtesy of Mr. Raymond's intercourse with those he met, 
and paid the highest meed of praise to the services of the Times 
and its chief, to the nation in its hours of peril and darkness, 
to the State in its days of embarrassment and turmoil , and to 
the city of New York at all times when good counsel, sincere 
advice, and judicious guidance were the greatest need. 

Mr. Raymond responded briefly, confining his remarks to a 
modest recognition of the kindness manifested by the chairman 
and the circle whose guest he was, and expressed the deepest 
appreciation of the compliment intended and conveyed by the 
demonstration of the evening, — a demonstration the more 
acceptable, because it came from friends, associates, and 
fellow-citizens of long standing and closest connection. 

Brief addresses were then made by Mr. Theodore Tilton, 
Editor of the Independent; Lieutenant-Governor Woodford; 
Mr. J. F. Bailey; "Private Miles O'Reilly" (Charles G. Hal- 
pine, since dead) ; Mr. Robert B. Roosevelt, and others. Mr. 


Koosevelt sang a parting song. "To Kaymond on his 
Travels," * and then he proceeded to compliment Mr. Kaymond 


(Air: JeannetUandJeannot.) 

" Oh, your boat is at the pier, 

And your passage has been paid. 
But before you go, my dearest dear, 

Accept this serenade ! 
For with friendliness we burn, 

And rejoicing come the rhymes 
To toast the health and safe return 
Of him who rules the Times, — 
To toast the health and safe return 
Of him who riiles the Times. 

" If we all could get away 

From this town of cares and frets. 
To wander round the Elysfies, 
And kiss the gay grisettes ; 
Such skedaddling there would be 

As was never known before ; 
Ten thousand steamers out at sea. 
And not a man on shore ! — 
Ten thousand steamers out at sea, 
And not a man on shore ! 

" But oh ! delusive dream, 
For US no chance remains ! 
Mere drudges of the desk we seem, 
With dull and throbbing brains ; 
But, though we must stay at home 
. To earn the painftil dimes, 
Iiet us all rejoice that he can roam, — 
Our brother of the Times I 
Let us all rejoice that he can roam, -- 
Our brother of the T^mes I 

" Oh, safely may he sail. 
And safely sail he back ! 
His virtue, like a proof-of-mail, 

To ward ofT each attack ! 
No beauty of the Boulevard 
Or nymph of other climes 
To win even half a thought's regard 
From him who rules the Times I 
To win even half a thought's regard 
From him who rules the Times I 

"Were I Marble of the World, 
Or young Bennett debonair. 
Do you think I'd see his sails unftirled 

And not his voyage share ? 
By this wine-cup in my hand. 
By my hope of famous rhymes, 


on the invariably conservative and steady tenor of his views ; 
and said that in particular he desired to thank him on behalf 
of the property holders of our country for the scathing and 
superbly logical exposures and denunciations of agrarian anc*. 
Fourierite-socialistic views which had been recently promul- 
gated, in the far West, by Senator Wade, of Ohio. It was 
time, said Mr. Roosevelt, that the agrarian and revolutionary 
follies should be checked. It was time that no man capable of 
stirring up strife between these two great natural allies, capital 
and labor, should continue to be honored with the confidence 
of the American people. There were so many thousands, how- 
ever, of the landless and thriftless whose votes could be secured 
by this species of demagogism that he thanked the Times and 
its Editor with all Tiis heart, and all the tenderest sympathies 
and emotions of his breeches-pocket, for the frank, fearless, and 
able stand which had been taken in that paper against the first 
authoritative exposition of those chaotic and atrocious doc- 
trines. He thanked Mr. Eaymond for the conservative ten- 
dencies which could not see in the addition of four millions of 
ignorant blacks to our voting population any certain or assured 
blessing, or any additional guaranty for the security of our 
national debt. 

Mr. Eaymond thanked Mr. Eoosevelt for the intended com- 
pliment expressed, but declined to accept the greater part, for 
it was, in his own judgment, undeserved. While correcting 
Mr. Eoosevelt's errors, also, he desired that his answer should 
cover certain allusions to the " Conversatism " of the Times 
which had been made by Mr. Tilton. Mr. Eaymond said the 
current talk concerning "Conservatism" and "Eadicalism" 
was fast degeneratmg into a new kind of political cant. It 
was to be supposed that all good men had the best interests of 
the country at heart ; but different methods and seasons oc 
curred to different men as the best for accomplishing their 
common object. It was a question of time, rather than of 

My foot should quit Manhattan strand 
With him who rales the Times t — 
My foot should quit Manhattan strand 
With hira who rules the Times t " 


principle. Some men were in favor of sending a locomotive 
at high pressure after the political millennium, to harness up 
tc H, and bring it along at seventy miles per hour, with a little 
colored boy seated on the engine's safety-valve. For himself, 
he could afford to be more patient. There were few things in 
the world worth impatience, and still f&wer worth anger. 
There were few desirable objects that could be promoted by 
the introduction or agency of these passions. No differences 
of political opinion should ever, in the speaker's judgment, be 
allowed to interfere with social relations ; arid it was one of 
the bad signs of the days in which we live, that even so intelli- 
gent and worthy a gentleman as his friend, the editor of the 
Independent, could condescend to claim credit for not allowing 
divergences of opinion, honestly entertained, to be passed as 
a sponge over the erased and blotted tablet of a friendship 
which the speaker had prized and should always value. 

There was far too much heat in the discussions of our day, 
continued Mr. Raymond ; too little charity for the judgment of 
others; too great an inclination to "reconstruct," — not the 
Southern States, however, but the bed of a political Procrustes 
in this country of once free thought ; a bed into which every 
candidate for public favor or confidence must fit his phant 
limbs, or suffer the torment of a rack that would force the re- 
luctant trunk and members into the exact leno'th and breadth 
of the moral and iotellectual torture-couch. He was free to 
say that many measures now extolled by certain men as " im- 
speakable blessings," and as the " salvation of the country in 
her late peril," still seemed to him to wear an experimental 
character, from which he hoped the best, and would endeavor 
to make the best by every energy of his nature ; but which he 
must still decline to regard as other than very hazardous ex- 
periments. When we shall have attained our best, when we 
have our whole system exactly fitted to suit our views, we shall 
all, if reasonable men, desire to " conserve " that system ; we 
shall be all "conservative." At the very worst, therefore, in 
a few years, if their views be right, the "Radicals" of to-day 
will have reached a point at which the full fruition of their 
aims must compel them to join the ranks of the now despised 


" Conservatives." As to the speech of Senator Wade, to which 
Mr. Roosevelt has so strongly referred, he desired to be un- 
derstood as having only criticised the propositions of that 
speech as reported, while at the same time feeling for the gen- 
eral character and capacities of Mr. Wade only the profound- 
est respect. That speech, delivered in Kansas, had been re- 
ported by Mr. Seymour, of the Times, and not until long after 
Mr. Wade had seen ^t in print was there any disclaimer of the 
report. In fact, it was not to the report that Mr. Wade ob- 
jected, but to the interpretation placed on certain of its pas- 
sages in his (Mr. Raymond's) editorial repiarks thereupon. To 
this interpretation Mr. Wade had very strongly objected, 
utterly disclaiming any such views ; and with him (Mr. Ray- 
mond) this disclaimer was as final an abucgutioii of the hasty 
and ill-considered words as though they had never been ut- 
tered. That the report was correct in letter and spirit, none 
present who know Mr. Seymour could doubt. But at the same 
time, though Mr. Wade had not possessed many advantages of 
education in his youth, there did not then sit in the Senate, 
and he would even go so far as to question whether there 
ever had sat there, any gentleman of warmer patriotism, or 
holding a more disinterested desire for his country's good. To 
speak of Mr. Wade as one likely to encourage such agrari- 
anism, or Fourierite-socialism, as Mr. Roosevelt had described, 
would be only to proclaim ignorance of the man's whole char- 
acter. He was an humble artisan in early life, who had accu- 
mulated capital and property by honest industry, and who, 
therefore, must be opposed to any scheme for plunging back 
this continent into universal chaos. 

Indeed, Mr. Raymond continued, there was less fear of 
agrarianism making headway here than anywhere else on earth. 
We effectually block it by the facilities given to every laboring 
man or mechanic to join the ranks of the men holding capital 
and property. Between labor and capital, in this happy land, 
the partition is not much thicker or stronger than a sheet of 
perforated tissue-paper. Atoms from each side are constantly 
passing back and forth; now a labor-atom from this side 
working its way over to the property-side ; and now a prop- 


erty-atom, iu the absence of any feudal laws of entail or primo- 
geniture, gradually gliding back through the perforations of 
improvidence into the ranks of the laboring and unproportioned 

As to his own career in Congi-ess, he could only plead for 
himself that he had conscientiously striven to discharge his 
duty according to the best lights given to him by his Creator. 
On many points he could not agree with his former associates 
in political opinion ; and it is a bitter and unpleasant position 
for any one to be compelled to fill, when, under the stress of a 
deep and earnest conviction, he hasto fightwith former friends, 
rather than along with them and against old foes. Such as 
his Congressional career had been, however, it at least thor- 
oughly satisfied him of his unfitness for that particular form of 
public life, — at least in such times as these, or until more 
moderate and charitable counsels shall prevail ; and it had like- 
wise conferred on him the benefit of sending him back to his 
editorial sanctum thoroughly cured of any ambition for public 
life ; and thoroughly satisfied that, for him, the happiest, most 
powerful, most remunerative, and most useful position must 
be found in the control of such a paper as his friend Mr. 
Jones had so largely aided to build up for their joint use and 
profit, and that of their associates, in the New Yoi'Jc Times. 

Mr. Raymond made a pleasant and profitable sojourn in 
Europe, regaining strength, and reviving cheerful memories. 
A few months sufficed to l-estore to his frame its customary 
vigor, and to his mind its wonted flow. He returned to his 
desk in the office of the Times, restored to full health, and 
prepared to devote himself to his profession with an ardor not 
less vehement, because it had for a time been diverted into 
other channels. 

In the winter of 1867—68, Charles Dickens made his second 
brief visit to the United States ; and on the evening of Sat- 
urday, the 18th of April, 1868, the members of the Press in 
New York gave him a farewell dinner. At this dinner Mr. 
Eaymond delivered the following admirable speech, in re- 
sponse to a toast to " The New York Press : " — 


" Mr. President and Gentlemen : — It seems to me, as I have no doubt it 
will seem to every one of you, that the Press of America ought to respond, at 
this moment, through some appropriate organ, to the noble and generous 
sentiments expressed by our guest to-night. I have no commission, and no 
claim, and no right to speak for the Press of the United States. [A voice, 
' Yes, you have.'] I am here officially, and only officially, to speak for a sec- 
tion, a segment, of that great Press. [' No ! No !'] but on behalf of that sec- 
tion, and I think with the assent of the whole Press with which that section 
is so closely, so constantly, so intimately, and so proudly connected, I may 
»say that we deem it an honor to us, the Press of New York and the Press of 
America, that we have had an opportunity to greet on this occasion the guest 
who sits at my left hand. [■ Bravo ! Bravo !'] 

" The Press of New York, from its geographical position, to say nothing ' 
else, maintains a quasi prominence among the Press of the country. That 
Press has maintained an independent existence, not only in itself, but through 
its organization. For many years (if I may say many in speaking of the few 
years during which I have been connected with it) it has had an organi- 
zation In form as a Press Club ; and it is among the most pleasant of my 
recollections in connection with the Press of New York that in that form 
of organization it has been our good fortune, at various times, to greet as 
guests, and to entertain, with whatever hospitality we were able to extend 
to them, gentlemen of distinction and position, who did us the honor to visit 
us from the countries of Europe. I remember almost the first of those occa- 
sions, when that truly great man, then recently expelled from the office of 
Governor of Hungary, Kossuth, the exile [Applause] came to this country, 
charmed so many of our people by the sea-shore, and in the depths of the 
densest wilderness of the "West, and in great cities, and everywhere he went, 
by the silver voice in which he uttered such sweet words in behalf of liberty 
and freedom, and by that sad, solemn eye with which, as our eloquent orator, 
Eufus Choate, has said ' he seemed constantly to be beholding the sad pro- 
cession of unnamed demigods who had died for their native land.' He was 
one of the most honored guests of the New York Press. Then came to us, 
and honored us by his presence, as he has honored England and the world by 
his services, that great statesman whom your people, sir [turning to Mr. 
Dickens], now honor as they honor few among their dead or their living, — 
Eichard Cobderi. [Great applause.] Then, too, came to us, and greeted us 
with the right hand of brotherhood, your great brother in literature, William 
M. Thackeray. [Renewed applause.] And I may say that of the many things 
that touched the hearts of our people, none touched them more nearly, or 
struck home more closely, than the feeling and eloquent words of the heart 
in which he spoke to us of his brother in letters, Charles Dickens. [Great 

" We did not need, sir, that he should tell us how much that name was 
cherished by the lovers of humanity all over the world, wherever the English 
tongue was spoken or read ; but he never said one word in praise of that 
name that did not meet with as hearty a response here as human words ever 
brought from human hearts. He told us then, what was true then, and what 
has been growing more and more true ever since, that the writings of that 
illustrious brother of his in the world of letters had done more than any 


other event or occurrence, more than any other service which he could call 
to mind, to make the men of tlie world feel that they were brothers, that they 
had common interests, that they were all sons of one father, striving and 
marching toward one end, and that each deserved and ought to have the love, 
the sympathy, the cordial good offlces and kindly feeling of every other 
[Applause.] These, sir, are among tlie felicities of the New York Press. 
The Press of other parts of the country have enjoyed them also to a greater 
or less extent, and I know they have all sympathized with the feelings which 
pervaded our hearts at our good fortune in meeting such men, and hearing 
them speak such words of brotherly kindness and love. The President, th^ 
honorable, the distinguished, and the honored President on this occasion,* 
[Applause] has spoken in words which I know came from his heart, as they 
reached all our hearts, of the service rendered the cause of humanity by our 
guest this evening. 

" We are all laboring in a common cause. I think it may be truly said that 
the Press, the free Press, all over the world, has but one common mission, — 
to elevate humanity. It takes the side of the humble, the lowly, and the poor 
— always of necessity, a necessity of its own existence — as against those 
who from mei'e position and power hold in their hands the destinies of the 
lowly and the poor, for whom the Press is instituted. We are all of us more 
or less directly, more or less exclusively, connected with the movements of 
governments, — governments of various forms, in different parts of the 
world, and through different agencies and ways, in that common effort to ele- 
vate the great mass of our fellow-men, to improve their material condition, 
and give them a higher ground to stand upon, and a stronger foot to go 
through the weary task that all of us, in some degree, have to undergo before 
we fulfil our pilgrimage here on earth. But it often strikes me, when I think 
of the labors of governments, and the labors of those who try to aid govern- 
ments, and when I contrast them with the fruits of the efforts, and the ma- 
chinery through which literary men labor for the same common end, — it 
often strikes me how coarse and rude and ineffective is the whole machinery 
of government to accomplish the great end of elevating humanity. 

"It is not through machinery, it is not tlirough organizations, through 
forms, through constraints, through laws, that we touch the real springs of 
human action. [Applause.] It Is not through those agencies that we learn 
what it is that elevates humanity, what it is tiiat purifies it, what it is that 
brings all men to thinJt themselves brothers, and to act toward each other as 
brothers. It is those who deal with the secret springs of actions who, 
through the channels of Action or of congenial and sympathetic human his- 
tory, touch the springs of the human heart, and malie nsfeel as well as con- 
vince our intellects ; it is those who do most to carry the world on to what 
we all believe to be its ultimate destination. [Applause.] And certainly in 
the Press, or out of the Press, in the government, or out of tlie government, 
nowhere on the face of the earth, in any form or in any shape, or through 
any agency, have there lived many men — I might make it stronger, if I did 
not dislike to appear extravagant — have there lived many men who have 
touched so nearly the secret springs of action and of character of the human 

♦Horace Greeley. 


heart, and have done so much in that way to bring about that unanimity of 
human feeling, that cordiality of human brotherhood, as the distinguished 
guest whom .we have here to-night. Everything that he has ever written — 
I say it without the slightest exception of a single book, a single page, or a 
single word that has ever preceded from his pen— has been calculated to 
infuse into every human heart the feeling that every man was his brother, 
and that the highest duty he could do to the world, and the highest pleasure 
he could confer upon himself, and the greatest service he could render to 
humanity, was to bring that other heart, whether high or low, as close to his 
own as possible. [Applause.] What he has accomplished in that way, — how 
many human hearts he has thus brought together, — how much of kind feeling 
he has infused throughout society, among all men, of all classes, high and 
low, rich and poor, powerful and weak, — how much he has done to infUse into 
them all the spirit of brotherhood, I know too well the poverty of any lan- 
guage I could use to attempt to describe. [Applause.] But I know that 
there Is not a man here, and there is not a man who has known any man 
here, who knows anything of his writings, who has made himself familiar 
with their spirit, or has yielded to their influence, who has not been made 
thereby a better as well as a wiser, and prouder, and kinder, nobler man. 
[Loud cheering.] 

"Excuse the prolixity into which I seem to be running. I will not prolong 
my remarks. I only desire to return thanks, on behalf of the New York 
Press, for the compliment which has been paid it by the assembled Press of 
the United States. [' Go on ! Go on I '] I think I may fairly claim that the 
New York Press, — and I know no higher claim that I could put in for it heye 
to-night than this, — that the New York Press from the very beginning, from 
the time when words first dropped from the pen of our illustrious guest, the 
New York Press has appreciated them, and I may add, appropriated them 
[Laughter], and that the fruits thereof are apparent in some of the changes, 
the improvements, the advances, which he has been good enough to speak 
of here to-night. "We all know his characters. They seem like person^. 
We cherish them as friends. I feel as well acquainted with some of them, — 
yes, a great deal better acquainted with some of them, than I do with many 
of the men whom I meet here ou the streets every day of my life. I know I 
have derived more good from some of them than from any, or at least many, 
of the friends whom I meet every day. They do everybody good, for they 
are always cheerful, always hopeful, always earnest, always kind to every 
one ; and, in spite of- all we may claim for our Eepublican institutions and 
our equality of rights, humanity in this country — I say it fearlessly — owes 
more of its substantial advances to the writings of Mr. Dicken.s than even to 
the Press of New York. [Laughter and applause.] His is a kiud of public 
service, which is done without consciousness, and sometimes without intent. 
Such a man writes what he knows of men, and what he writes addresses it- 
self to all men. It reaches their hearts, and through their hearts governs 
their conduct; and that is the only government of conduct worth a straw 
anywhere. [Applause.] I think often of these things in connection with the 
noble lines of one of our own poets, speaking of the unconscious work done 
Dy the great architect of Rome, in the building of St. Peter's ; and if you will 
allow me to quote those lines (and I am sure you will thank me for substi 


tuting them for anything that I could say myself), I will close therewith. I 
mean that beautiful passage in Emerson where he says : — 

" ' The hand that rounded Peter's dome, 
And groined the aisles of Christian Borne, 
Wrought with a sad sincerity. 
Himself from God he could not free, 
He builded better than he knew; 
Tht conscious stone to beauty grew.'" 

After this, Mr. Raymond seldom appeared in public. Ee- 
sisting every allurement again to turn aside from his profes- 
sion, he devoted all his energy to the Times; and that journal, 
under his constant, watchful, and judicious supervision, rapidly 
gained in circulation,' influence, and prosperity. Its shares, 
nominally valued at one thousand dollars, rose to the value 
of eleven thousand dollars each ; and an offer for the pur- 
chase of its good-will and its real property for the sum of one 
million dollars was unanimously rejected by its proprietors at 
the beginning of the year 1869. Never, in the whole course 
of its history, had the Times been so prosperous. 

But, through one of the mysterious dispensations of the 
Divine Will which no mortal can hope to fathom, in a moment 
the guiding spirit was removed. 


DEATH. 205 




When the skies were brightening, prosperity increasing, and 
the future giviag brilliant promise, Mr. Kaymond was sud- 
denly stricken down by Death. 

Eeturning to his residence in "West Ninth Street at about twelve 
o'clock on the night of Friday, the 18th of June, 1869, an 
attack of apoplexy prostrated him in a moment. Two hours 
later, his stertorous breathing attracted the attention of one 
of his children. The alarmed family, hastening to assist him, 
tbund him lying in the hall-way, unconscious, and apparently 
dying. He had locked the outside door, and closed the inner 
one. The most eminent medical aid was summoned ; but he 
remained unconscious, and died tranquilly about five o'clock in 
the morning. 

Thus ended the earthly life of Henry J. Eaymond. 

The announcement of his sudden death evoked a unanimous 
expression of regret. Cut off in the flower of his days, when 
his position had become assured, when the rewards of his long 
wrestle with fortune had been obtained, when a career of dig- 
nity and usefulness seemed to be opening before him in the 
profession to which he had determined to devote the remainder 
of his life, the abrupt ending of his work produced a shock. 
He had just entered upon his fiftieth year. His frame was hardy, 
if not robust, and his general health had not been undermined 
by chronic disorders. He had effected new arrangements in the 
affairs of the Times, through which it was intended to give that 
journal increased strength and value. His domestic life had 


resumed a pleasant aspect, by the reunion of its scattered 
members after several years' sojourn in Europe. All promise 
seemed fair; sound health, serene mind, abundant means, the 
return of children from whom he had long been separated, — 
all these were his sources of enjoyment, the solacing comforts 
which Providence had apparently bestowed in compensation 
for years of poverty, of anxious struggle, and of persevering 
thrift and industry. 

But one heavy sorrow had fallen upon him, in this tim« 
of prosperity and hope, in the death of his younger son, 
Walter Jarvis, who had suddenly been taken away,* in the 
fifteenth year of his age. 

On the 18th of June, Mr. Eaymond, accompanied by 
his daughter, visited the grave of this child in Greenwood 
Cemetery. The thought did not enter his mind that he him- 
self was never to see another day on earth. That night he 

On the morning of the 19th of June, the Times appeared in 
mourning for the loss of its Chief; and the following touching 
tribute, from the pen of one of the editors of that journal who 
had long been drawn to Mr. Eaymond by the closest ties of 
personal friendship, gave eloquent expression to the general 
feeling of sorrow : — 


"The Times has suddenly lost its founder, who was also its Editor-in-Chief 
to the day of his death. 

"The grief that overwhelms his associates, as well as the members of his 
family circle, it were in vain, as it were out of place, to attempt to dwell 
upon here. 

" Mr. Raymond's relation to journalism and politics during the last quarter 
of a century is known sufficiently well to make it unnecessary for the preseut 
writer to say much on this point. Entering into a journalistic career in early 
life, and at a time when the power and importance of the American Press 
were far less than what they are now, he at once took a leading part in 
elevating its position and enlarging its influence. All his vivacity, enterprise, 
energy, and genius were brought to his editorial duties, — and so were his 
skill, knowledge of aflfairs, and scholarship. With great original powers, 
which were enlarged and cultivated not only by collegiate studies, but by 

•February 27, 1869. 

DEATH. 207 

literary research and extensive inquiry,- — with a fresh and original style of 
thought and expression, — with the most remarkable intellectual equipoise 
and self-command, — with the noblest of motives and highest of aims, — he 
applied his life to journalism. It is beyond our power to estimate how 
greatly his editorial labors have influenced public opinion, the public Press, 
and the conduct of public affairs ; but we believe that the scope and measure 
of his Influence, as well. as its beneficent character and results, have been 
worthy of journalism in the most exalted view of its purpose. In his more 
direct connection with legislation and the affairs of State he displayed the 
same characteristics as appeared in his editorial course. Though youthful in 
years when elected to the Legislature (of which he was chosen Speaker), and 
subsequently to the Lieutenant-Governorship (which made him President of 
the Senate), he soon showed himself possessed of extraordinary ability as a 
parliamentarian, debater, and administrator. Always ready, always temper- 
ate, always self-possessed, always clear-headed and sagacious, always coura- 
geous, always of the most perfect integrity and honor, political as well as 
personal, always free from petty ambition, and incapable of petty or selfish 
intrigue, always magnanimous and generous, always the true gentleman, — 
he stood in the foreground of State politics, and showed himself worthy of 
his place. In later years, when in Congress, with more matured powers and 
larger experience, he approached, with statesmanship, the great questions of 
the day ; and though, at that time, our politics were characterized by the 
wildest party excitement, and the bitterest personal exacerbations, he never 
lost his independence, his courage, or his temper. For conciliation between 
the warring faction? of the party, — for conciliation between the yet warring 
sections, of the country, — for conciliation between the administrative and 
legislative branches of the government, — he labored constantly and pleaded 
eloquently and earnestly. . As one of the founders of the Republican party, 
and one of its foremost leaders, — as one of the ablest and stanchest uphold- 
ers of the government during the war, — he sought to subserve the party's 
interests ; but, still more, he sought to subserve the country's interests, by 
the adoption of a policy of magnanimity toward the South which should 
again bring together the whole American people in the ancient bonds of 
union, fraternity, and glory. It is not for us at this time, or for any man at 
this time, to estimate the value of his course; but certain we are, that it was 
inspired by the highest sentiments, and the noblest motives that ever led any 
man, or any statesman, to earnest labor for the service of his country. 

"But it was not the present purpose to attempt anything like a judgment 
or an eulogiura of the public career of our deceased friend and chief. "We 
would rather say a word of him as he was intimately lyiown to us in the re- 
lation of chief and friend. A more genial or attractive manhood, a better 
rounded character, a warmer and truer friend, a more sympathetic and kindly 
nature, or one more generous and just, we never knew. Amid all the trials 
of editorial life, he never lost his suavity of disposition. To all his associ- 
ates and subordinates, whether those employed by his side or those en- 
gaged In the humbles duties of the establishment, he was invariably amiable' 
and considerate; kindly studying their interests, delicately respecting their 
feelings, and aiding in their advancement as though they were members of 
his own household. So even and perfect was his temper, that but the other 


day he referred, as if it were a serious fault, to tlie fact that he was ' never 
In a passion in his life, and never had seen anything in the world that it was 
worth while to get angry about.' His friendships were close and abiding. 
To the day of his death he retained the friends of his youth, and amid all 
the vicissitudes of life and circumstance, of parties and politics, of personal 
fortune or public position, he never permitted aught to interfere with his 
esteem for^hose to whom he had once been attached. His sympathetic gen- 
erosity toward the needy and friendless will be best appreciated by those who 
were its objects ; but we may say that only those who knew him well could 
credit his long-suffering patience, through years and years, with the innu- 
merable applicants for his help and bounty. Pleasant are the many memories 
which now gather around him ; but pleasantest of all are the memories of 
his charities and his beneficence and his goodness. Nor did his sympathetic 
humanity merely assume a personal direction. For all the struggles of the 
oppressed and down-trodden, for all the efforts of the labbring classes, or of 
the still poorer and more helpless classes, to elevate themselves or improve 
their lot in life, — he had a lively and earnest interest. Let there be an ap- 
peal to the higher feelings of man's nature, in behalf of any object which his 
judgment approved, and his response was quick. Not only were his mental 
faculties balanced in the most marvellous manner, but the balance between 
his intellect and his feelings was still more remarkable. In forming judg- 
ments on questions of public policy, his faculties of perception, reason, 
causation, and relation, instantly ranged themselves for the task; and In com- 
ing to conclusions on questions of right and humanity, his heart was ready 
as his thought, bat quicker and more active in its movements. The result 
of this perfect balance, in its twofold order, was just instinct and just con- 
duct ; justice in his own life and in his relations with his fellow-men. No 
consideration whatever could ever sway him from the course of .integrity 
and honor. As a journalist, no man ever dared approach him with a corrupt 
or dishonest proposition. He was as incapable of being reached by the 
temptations of place and power as by the vulgar temptation of lucre. In 
journalism, he sought success only by the ways of honesty and justice. 
Through the very simplicity and transparency of his nature, he was fre- 
quently misunderstood; and circumstances were often thought to be the 
result of his designs when he was even unaware of the means by which they 
were brought about. Those who best knew his life and character know 
that he was utterly incapable of even conceiving anything in the shape of 
what is called a scheme, either political or personal ; and he often smiled at 
hearing that he had set in motion the intricate machinery that had brought 
about projects of whose origin and very existence he was unconscious. In 
fact, we never knew a man more completely guileless, or whose life and 
character better illustrated the virtues of a true and ingenuous manhood. . 
"His conversation with those to whom he was attached had a wonderful 
charm. In youth he had been a close student of literature and philosophy; 
he had enjoyed opportunities of extensive travel; he had possessed the ac- 
quaintance and friendship of many of the most dlstingaished men in this and 
other countries; and he had the peculiarly valuable knowledge of affairs 
which is only acquired by intimate relations with them. Though, of late 
years, he occasionally showed some impatience with metaphysical specula- 

DEATH. 209 

tions, he always sought to grasp the principle that lay at the foundation of 
the actua,! or the apparent, and his logical habit demanded the reason and 
the sequence of whatever presented itself. Hence his conversation was sin- 
gularly rich and attractive ; and, at times of quiet and leisure, his monologues 
would, unconsciously to himself, assume the shape of closely concatenated, 
admirably illustrated discourses. Humor went along with pathos, reason 
with fancy, and philosophy and experience gave weight and value to his 
words. In other directions, as, for example, in his reminiscences of public 
life, public men, and journalistic incident, he was eminently happy and viva- 
cious ; and no one who ever heard will ever forget his sketches of the old 
days of journalism, or of the scenes of other times, in which figured Webster 
and Clay, and still later Lincoln and Douglas, beside Seward and many other 
notable public characters still living. We malie note at this time, and in this 
place, of matters like these ; because few of the readers of this journal, and 
few even of those who enjoyed his outside acquaintance, have ever had occa- 
sion to know anything of those more intimate personal traits which made him 
beloved as a friend as well as admired for his intellect and character. 

" In the midst of a great and honorable career, — after having attained a 
distinguished position ; while yet his life was in its prime, and his faculties 
were In their full strength and order, — he has been suddenly cut off. Dur- 
ing the last year or two he has at times had slight indications of what 
seemed a paralytic tendency in the muscles of his right hand and wrist. 
But he gave little attention to the matter, and continued actively engaged In 
his editorial duties up to within a few hours of the time at which his life 

" And now, with all the memories and affections of the past, with our 
hearts overwhelmed with grief, and mingling our tears with those of the 
bereaved members of his family, — in the name of all his associates, we utter 
to our beloved friend this last Farewell ! 

" ' Vale, vale, in cBtemum vale ! ' " 

It is proper also to place on record the eulogies which ap- 
peared in the New York Tribune and the New York Herald, 

for, in Mr. Raymond's lifetime, the conductors of these 

papers had been his bitter and unrelenting foes, pitilessly hos- 
tile and critically severe in their estimate of his political career 
and his personal character. In the presence of Death the 
tono-ue of detraction became silent, and the old professional 
and personal rivalries disappeared. The Tribune and the He^ 
aid printed in leading columns the words which follow : — 

Prom tike New York Tribune. 

" In the great newspaper offices, in the club-houses. In Wall Street, in com- 
mittee rooms, in all places where men of culture and of affairs meet together, 
a little whisper of news came yesterday which awed the bravest and sad- 


'dened the lightest heart. It was only the news that is told every day of 
some man well-known to his fellows ; only the news that a kindly face wonld 
be no more seen among them, a heartsome voice be no more heard, a firm 
step no longer ring down familiar ways. And yet few faces could be more 
missed than this one lying upturned in such dreamless sleep ; few voices die 
out of more listening ears ; few steps fail whose coming had brought assur- 
ance of a friend's approach to a greater host of friends. ' Governor Raymond 
is dead,' said the brief report. But no man who heard it repeated it in that 
form. 'A great journalist is dead,' said one voice. 'An able politician is 
gone,' said another. And so multitudes remembered him, each giving him 
honor for some distinctive power, but all adding, in softer voice, ' and he 
had no enemies.' It is a good record to have left. A young man still; an 
over-worked, over-anxious, over-eager man; ambitious, liking position, liking 
money, liking all the prizes and all the warm, sweet gifts of life ; in close 
relations with hundreds of men of most different capacities and purposes,— he 
leaves no personal enemy, not one who shall say, ' He was a false friend.' 
In his life there was much bitter speech about the politician, the officer, the 
legislator, the editor, — none concerning the man. Now that he cannot ex- 
plain ways that seemed unwise or tortuous, his bitterest detractors, touched 
by the sweet charity and wisdom which are the gift of Death when he takes 
away one we have known, will be the first to explain the unwisdom or the 
crookedness. They will see that what they called disingenuousness and 
timidity might have been a fear of bigotry and onesideduess, and incapacity 
to regard any step, or declaration, or triumph as conclusive. A poor boy 
from the country, brown-handed, rustic, he achieved a college training, and 
came alone to a great city to conquer his place among men. He worked as 
no digger on the railroads could work. His place was low, his wage was 
small ; but he bent his genius to the occasion as if he had been Premier, and 
the applause of the world his guerdon. By and by the obscure name was in 
men's mouths. By and by, again, he was himself a recognized power, and 
graduated from journey-work into the mastership of his own newspaper. 
He had conquered his place. Money, and influence, and applause were his. 
And in these prosperous days no one was so ready to help him who was 
down, to serve a friend at some cost to himself, to make the places of his 
associates pleasant and honorable, to do distasteful tasks which other men 
hesitated at. 

" While his hands were full of business, and his life full of activities, the 
strange, swift order came to him to leave all this for larger occupation. 
There was no time to say his farewells to old associates ; but they crowd to 
say a tender farewell to him. There is no journalist to take his place; the 
epitome of his power is written thus. There is no friend to take his place; 
the epitome of his kindness and loyalty is written thus. Pure sunshine 
floods the earth this morning, and filters down in mist of gold on the cool, 
sweet sward of Greenwood, where his eyes last looked on it. The golden 
mist will float above a new grave, where he shall lie beside the lad he loved 
so much, and, shimmering in the sun, will seem to make a ladder through the 
shining air whereon the angels of the Lord shall ascend and descend. 

" ' His bands aro folded on his breast; 
There is no other thought expressed 
Than long disquiet merged in rest.' " 

DEATH. 211 

From the Nea York Tribune. 

" In the death of Hon. Henry J. Kaymond, editor of the New York Times, 
the Press of oar city has lost one of its ablest and most eminent members, 
Mr. Raymond, after graduating with distinction at the University of Ver- 
mont, came directly to this city in the autumn of 1840, and was employed on 
the mw- Yorker, for which he had written with force and spirit while a stu- 
dent. The Tribune was started the next April, and Mr. Raymond held the 
second place on its editorial staff from the outset until the autumn of 1848> 
when he resigned it to accept a like position on the Courier and Enquirer, 
which he likewise relinquished after a few years ; visiting Europe with his 
family, and being repeatedly elected to the Assembly of our State, whereof 
he was in the second term chosen speaker. He now started the Times, of 
which he was from the first sole editor, though well served by assistants. 
He was chosen Lieutenant-Governor of our State in 1854, and elected to Con- 
gress from our Sixth District In 1864. Mr. Johnson, in 1867, nominated him 
for Minister to Austria, but the Senate did not confirm the selection. 

" Mr. Raymond's oflacial career, though evincing ability, did less than jus- 
tice to his comprehensive knowledge and rare intellectual powers. Never so 
positive and downright in his convictions as his countrymen are apt to be, 
he was often misjudged as a trimmer and time-server, when in fact he spoke and 
wrote exactly as he felt and thought. If what he uttered to-day was nof in full 
accoi-dance with what he said yesterday, the difference evinced in his essay 
was a true reflection of one which had preceded it in his mind. He saw both 
sides of a controverted issue, and, if one of them seemed the juster to-day, 
the other might nevertheless command his preference to-morrow. This men- 
tal constitution or mental habitude is rare with us, and he would have been more 
favorably judged as a journalist or politician in Great Britain than in this country. 

" Mr. Raymond would have ranked in England as a ' Liberal Conservative,' 
and would have followed the flag now of Gladstone, then of Lord. Stanley, 
occasionally siding with Robert Lowe, and again with Beresford Hope. He 
was sincerely favorable to liberty, reform, and progress ; he was no less sin- 
cerely averse to rash or violent changes, and anxious that progress should be 
regular and equable, never shocking a prejudiced nor fluttering a timorous 
breast. It is perhaps unfortunate, but none the less true, that giant wrongs 
and strongly fortified abuses are not thus to be overborne. 

" There were probably others who evinced greater ability in some special 
department ; but, regarding journalism in its broadest aspects, we doubt 
whether this country has known a journalist superior to Henry J. Raymond. 
He was an admirable reporter, a discerning critic, a skilful selecterand com- 
piler of news, as well as an able and ready writer. There was nothing in the 
whole range of newspaper work that he could not do well, and (what is of 
equal importance) with unhesitating promptness. He was never too sick to 
work when work had to be done, and always able and willing to do any 
amount of labor that the exigency might require. Others may have evinced 
a rarer faculty, which some might term genius ; but Mr. Raymond embodied 
talents that have rarely been surpassed. 

" Genial, unassuming, and thoroughly informed by study, observation, and 
travel, Mr. Raymond was a delightful companion, and his society was widely 


courted and enjoyed. A thoroughly capable and effective canvasser, he has 
for years shunned public, speaking whenever it could be avoided, finding 
enough to do without it, and having no decided love for the sound of his own 
voice. Snatched away so suddenly, iu the prime of life and in the midst of 
its activities, his death makes a void that imll not easily he filled, while his 
widow and children are called to mourn a loss at once astounding and irrep- 

From the New Torh Herald. 

" One of the central lights of the New York daily press has been suddenly 
extinguished. Henry J. Raymond, late the active head and controlling mind 
of the Times, is no more. The circumstances of his death yesterday morn- 
ing, and the leading events of his public career, we give elsewhere in these 
columns. In the prime of life, and apparently possessing a physical consti- 
tution unshaken by his active public labors of a quarter of a century, the an- 
nouncement of his death was somewhat startling, as another unlooked-for 
admonition of the uncertainties of this earthly existence. He leaves behind 
him the reputation of a brilliant speaker, an able and accomplished writer, 
a good, experienced, and successful journalist, a respected neighbor, and a 
useful Qitizen. His name is conspicuous in that distinguished catalogue of 
' self-made men,' who, by dint of their individual energy, tact, industry, and 
perseverance, have risen from poverty and obscurity to influence and afflu- 
ence. His example will be an encouragement to others setting out — excel- 
sior — from the valley of "humiliation for the distant table-lands of distinc- 
tion and prospei'ity. 

"The history of Mr. Raymond, however, is but the history of many others 
who have climbed from obscurity to distinction, varying only in its details. 
He came to this city a poor youth, seeking employment. He chose the career 
of a journalist, with an eye to practical results, and made it a success. His 
preliminary training as a reporter and sub-editor qualified him for the under- 
taking of a new daily on his own account. He was fortunate, too, in the 
opening presented (1851) for the Times. At that period .the demand for 
morning newspapers in the city was greater than the supply. The machin- 
ery and facilities of the Serald establishment, for instance, were not equal to 
the morning's demand for the Herald at that day. The surplus of readers 
nnsupplied offered a fair margin for a new journal, which it was the good 
fortune of the Times to seize upon, and, in bringing forward this new journal, 
Mr. Raymond's experience had taught him to abandon the old school of the 
old stage-coach and sailing-ship epoch of the Courier and Enquirer, and to 
fall In with the new school of the" Serald, of the new epoch of steamships 
and railways. The Times was established on the Herald idea of the latest 
news, and, as Mr. Raymond comprehended it, upon the Herald idea of edito- 
rial independence. We had. In fact, opened a new placer, — a regular White 
Pine silver mine ; and numerous diggers undertook to work the vein at .va- 
rious points. Thus the Times came Into the field, and from the margin sug- 
gested to begin with as a penny paper, it gradually built up a constituency 
of its own, and became an established success. But had we possessed in 
1851 our lightning presses and stereotyping facilities of the present day, 

^EATH. 213 

there would have been no opening for the Times, as there is no opening here 
now for a new morning newspaper, except upon an enormous outlay of capi- 
tal, with the hazards of heavy losses for a year or two, and then a collapse. 

" The costly machinery and appliances of modern journalism give a security 
to established popular newspapers which did not exist in the primary forma- 
tion. Thus a morning daily, established upon all these modern improve- 
ments and advantages, becomes a fixed institution to be transmitted from 
one generation of conductors and readers to another. Hence we may con- 
clude that the Times, notwithstanding the death of Mr. Raymond, will go on 
as before, and that ere long his son, now at Yale College, will put on the har- 
ness and worthily maintain the editorial status of his father, with the con- 
tinued prosperity of his paper. From this modern school of established pop- 
ular journals it is apparent, too, that as the whole newspaper press of the 
country has improved, and is improving, it will still advance with the spirit, 
the progress and the requirements of the age. 

" But there is another lesson suggested from Mr. Eaymond's career, which 
is worthy of some attention. He was a politician as well as a journalist, and 
in attempting to subordinate his functions as a journalist to his aspirations 
as a party politician he failed in both characters. ' No man can serve two 
masters.' Mr. Raymond pushed the experiment to the wall ; but, driven at 
last to a choice, he wisely abandoned the role of an aspiring party politician 
for that of the untrammelled editor. The wisdom, however, of the Herald's 
example of standing aloof from intriguing and treacherous party politicians 
he had to learn from dear experience. ' Old Thad. Stevens ' settled the 
question, and evidently satisfied Mr. Raymond that even in conducting a 
party journal which pays, it is unsafe to have any other irons in the fire. In 
the line in which he was successful, and in the political party adventures in 
which he failed, there are valuable lessons for newspaper men, while in his 
general editorial course of moderation, dignity, courtesy, and refinement, his 
■example will command universal respect. Indeed, it would be well if with 
the public press it were the universal law.' 

The New -York World, which had also been engaged in 
fierce controversies with the Times, published the following 
estimate of Mr. Eaymond's character : — 

" Mr. Raymond's life, brief as it was, covered and was contemporaneous 
with the rise and growth and progress to maturity of the New York Press 
such as we see it to-day. He entered the ranks of the profession when it 
was but poorly and partially recognized as a profession at all ; he has fallen 
in his ripe manhood, conspicuous among its chiefs, when its duties and its 
responsibilities have multiplied and come into the light, until it is seen and 
felt of all men to be the truest power for good or evil in the land. His work 
has been done through years few in number, but in pregnancy of meaning 
and of influence how grave and full! He rests from it now. May he rest in 
peace ! And well will it be for the American press and the American people, 
if no journalist of equal ability and influence shall ever in the future less 


worthily devote the one and exert the other than he whom we are called now 
to lay in what men call his 'untimely grave.' " 

Tardy justice was done to Mr. Raymond by Horace Gree- 
ley, in the passages quoted, on a previous page, from the col- 
umns of the Tribune. The man being dead, the Tribune 
confessed that in his life he had been " misjudged ; " that he 
had not been a " time-server ; " that, " in fact, he spoke and 
wrote exactly as he felt and thought." Yet, through many 
years, Raymond was to Greeley "a little villain," — a phrase 
of Ti-ibune invention too frequently used as a term of oppro- 
brium, — a " trickster," a traitor to principle, devoid of honor, 
destitute of common honesty. Raymond died, and the Tribune 
at once retracted its harsh judgment. The alternative condi- 
tions, therefore, are simple : either Mr. Greeley's prejudice 
had obscured the truth while Mr. Raymond lived, or the truth 
was insincerely uttered when the man was dead. Let us, for 
sweet charity's sake, adopt the former, in the belief that the 
Tribune expressed its absolute conviction in the words of 
eulogy uttered at the last. Tardy justice is better than 
no justice at all ; but the judicial impartiality which is not 
swayed by personal hatred, nor perverted by political antag- 
onism, is in all cases the best and manliest. Henry J. Ray- 
mond was at no period of his career the character described by 
the Tribune and the Herald. Living, he was the target for 
poisoned shafts. Dead, bis revilers confessed their error. 
Human fallibility had thus another illustration. 

AT REST. 215 




The funeral of Henry J. Eaymond, which took place on 
Monday, the 21st of June, was attended by an immense concourse 
of relatives and friends. After appropriate ceremonies at the 
residence of the family in New York, the remains were con- 
veyed to the University Place Presbyterian Church, at the 
corner of Tenth Street and University Place, the following- 
named gentlemen officiating as pall-bearers : — 

The Mayor of the City, Admiral Farragut,? 

Maj.-Gen. John A. Dix," Maj.-Gen. I. McDowell,""" — ' 

Judge C. P.. Daly, Hon. E. D. Morgan, 

Mr. Thurlow Weed/*" . James Watson Webbr" 

Mr. Horace Greeley, '* Mr. B. P. Tracy, "^-^ 

Mr. A. T. Stewart, Mr. M. H. Grinnell, 

Mr. George W. Curtis, Mr. C. C Norvell. „ 

On the arrival of the funeral procession at the church, the 
clergy, consisting of Rev. Dr. Tyng, Eev. Henry Ward 
Beecher, Eev. Alfred A. Kellogg, and Eev. Dr. Shedd, pro- 
ceeded to the porch, and there received the . remains, which 
they preceded up the aisle, Dr. Tyng reading the appropriate 
services. The usual services of the Episcopal Church were 
then read by Dr. Tyng. 

The following address was delivered by Eev. Henry Ward 
Beecher : — 

" It is not expected that I should indulge in eulogy, nor even that I should 
attempt to recount the prominent facts in the history of him who is gone. 
But a few days ago he walked in manly vigor and unceasing activity. But 
to-day .' Not when he was born, nor when he was in his cradle was he wealjer 


than now. This man of strength and power in his coffin ! So sudden, so 
instant was his death, that it was as the fall of some mighty tree that had 
filled the air, wide and broad, with its strength and richness, but in an hour 
has felt the woodman's axe, and the place that knew it knows it no more, and 
will not forever. It is seldom that any one passes from life who has held any 
public position except the one he has built up for himself, on whose de- 
parture there has been so much sympathy, and good will, and admiration, 
and grief, and affection expressed as in the case of Mr. Raymond. He was 
called to a sphere of irradiation, in its very nature contestant, and was 
long habituated to discussion in times that have swayed men and the nation 
to the very bottom. Scarcely had his departure been flashed through the 
land, than with lightning-like rapidity comes back the testimony of his antag- 
onists and friends to his goodness of nature, to his great capacity and the 
purity of his motives, and to the good work which he has done in his own 
community and the nation. It is a testimony of witnesses to the real good- 
ness of this man, that those who were most opposed to him, that those whose 
hands were lifted with the pen of contest, laid it down to write his eulogy 
and express their heartfelt grief. He was a man who loved and was beloved. 
He was a man without hate, and, I might almost say, without animosity; a 
man the nearer you came to him and the better you knew him, the more you 
esteemed and loved him. You trusted him if you knew him ; if you knew him 
it was to love him; and it is no small thing to say in this selfish world that 
his like is rarely met with. There are two things which I wish to emphasize 
in his public career, and only two. He stood in the widest pulpit that is 
known in modern society. The lawyer has his narrow sphere of the forum; 
the representative the close walks of the legislature ; the minister has his 
parish and the walls of his church; and scarcely speaks beyond. But there 
Is, in this day, a pulpit which has no limit. It is that of the Press. It is lit- 
erally the voice of one that speaks, that is crying in the wilderness. Por all 
creeds, and for all the populace of the land throughout the nation's territo- 
ries, from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, the daily papers speak ; and there 
is not in modern civilization a power which can compare with this. There is 
no place in the land which has so developed the daily Press as this ; and 
among the builders, — I do not say the founders, — but among the builders 
up of this foundation stands Mr. Raymond pre-eminently. Aside from his 
general abilities, he has conducted the Press ; and I remark, — and it is most 
grateful in such a time as this to remark upon it, — I remark how singularly 
free his whole career has been from bitterness; how he refused to gain 
strength by the advocacy of passion ; how he never used the malign passions, 
nor appealed to them in others ; how reason and the higher moral sentiments 
breathed in his work; how to^ou in these higher feelings he uttered himself. 
And now that he has departed, to look back upon his career, and see how he 
wielded the mighty engine In behalf of good reason, in behalf of moral senti- 
ments, covers a multitude of Imperfections. I have it in my heart also to 
say, — because, in common with all of yon, I have heard his instability cited, 
— I have heard it said that he was weak and trimming; but I never believed 
it. I recollect the time when the nation shivered like an aspen leaf, — when 
one man was worth an army. Those qualities which he possessed above all 
others were hope and indomitable courage. I remember, and ever shall feel 

AT BEST. 217 

grateM to this man who pressed to the front rank, and who let his voice ring 
out clearly, without a moment's hesitation, with the most unceasing energy to 
the end of the contest, that gave courage aiid hope and life to this great people. 
If this was trimming, oh that there had been more such trimmers ! That was a 
service which should enshrine a man's memory in a country's history, and make 
his name dear to the people. I thanked him for it. I still thank him ; and I am 
glad to make mention of, and bear this testimony to, his fidelity in those days, 
when to be faithful required greatness of soul. My friends, it seems impossible 
that we are speaking of one who so little time ago walked among us ; it seems 
impossible that we shall never see again that cheerful face, and take that cor- 
dial grasp ; that we shall walk with him no more, and hear his counsel no 
more. But he is gone. He has fallen in the very prime of his life. The next 
ten years ought to have been worth more to us and to him than the last 
twenty were. He had taxed the resources of his life unduly, and has been 
cast down prematurely, because he had not lived within the due bounds of 
moderation in the use of himself. For obedience to Gfod requires moderation 
in industries, not inordinate activities, even in the best spheres of life. He 
cannot repair the error, but it may be that we shall give some heed to it in 
this place of instruction. My voice can do him no good, or I would pour it 
out. Though I cannot do him any good by praise or by criticism, yet I hope 
that there may be some benefit to us in this solemn scene. For Inyself, for 
you, for all of us, is herein a lesson. What are those things which engaged 
his days and hours? What are the cares, the frets, the petty ambitions, the 
stinging annoyances, the small strifes, the friction, the sweat and tear of 
life? What are those things as we stand here and look back upon them, 
measured by this hour that should measure the worth of all things? What 
are those things that are past? How vain, how useless ! What best may we 
do that, judged by this hour, we shall stand by his memory who lived not for 
himSelf, but so associated himself with the welfare of mankind, especially 
with the community in which he was placed, that the work he leaves behind 
him shall be his memorial? For no man is great enough to be remembered in 
selfishness. The things which shall make our names memorable are those 
things which we do upon others and for others. Not those who have lived 
for themselves, but those who have lived for others, for their country, for 
their age. You and I, too, ere long shall come to this hour. You are strong, 
the blood beats now healthily in your veins ; but in a short time you, too, 
shall be in the coflSn, and you shall be followed by your friends to the tomb. 
Could we, if you were called hence to-day, speak well of your history? 
Have you earned the right to be spoken of gratefully in tliis solemn hour, 
and have your name handed down to others ? Are you living above the world 
while in it, Christianly, purely, and nobly? Are you living with fear of God 
and with hope of immortality? For surely it is no unmeaning service of 
respect that you pay to-day. You come here to wear a nobler manliness, to 
take off the vows of a higher fidelity, and to retain a sense of the urgency and 
importance of life. You come here to rebuke your passions, to seek the truth 
as it is in Jesus Christ, to check the uprising of pride and selfishness, and to 
take upon you the purpose and vows of fidelity to God and man. Blessed 
are they who when passing away need not the adventitious circumstance of 
place. Blessed are they whose mourners are those who have been the re- 


cipients of their continued kindness ; they who have made their memories 
dear to hearts which they have enriched and blessed. And now, to-morrow 
and next week his name will be familiar, and many of us will cherish it as 
long as we live. But this great thundering city is like the ocean, and as 
when one falls overboard and gives one outcry, and. the flying water is dis- 
turbed, but the huge waves pass over, the wrinkles are smoothed out, and the 
sea is no fuller than before, so thp great multitude will forget him and pass 
on. You who are so important to-day may be insignificant to-morrow. You 
who are taking hold of the very springs of life will drop them from your 
fingers. Oh that God may grant to us all such a sense of our weakness here 
and responsibility there, that we may so improve life that when we lay it 
down we shall take it up again beyond the grave in a land where death is no 
more, and where there is immortality and blessedness ! " 

On the following day, the remains of Mr. Eaymond were 
conveyed to Greenwood Cemetery for interment. 

THE MAN. 219 



MB. Raymond's cabeer — his earlt ambition — his application — news- 



The reader who has followed the story of Mr. Eaymond's 
career, has found in these pages the record of his successes and 
his failures. Beginning life as a poor boy, with no advantages 
of fortune or position ; pushing his way steadily forward, in 
defiance of obstacles which would have daunted a man desti- 
tute of the quality of resolution ; achieving a marked success 
in the field of effort he had chosen ; falling into error when the 
temptations of place assailed him, — but through all these 
phases preserving a simple, manly spirit, unclouded by petty 
meanness,- and a warm heart, unchilled by adversity and un- 
hardened by prosperity, — the Man was better even than the 
Journalist, in the same proportion as the Journalist was supe- 
rior to the Politician. 

When Kaymond assumed the editorial chair as the Chief of 
the Times, he was happier than at any other period of his life. 
There was good reason for this happiness. He was but thirty- 
one years of age ; yet he had reached the height of his ambition 
— all the ambition he had then cherished — in becoming the 
controller of a public journal. His unemng instinct told him 
his experiment was a success ; he knew he possessed within 
himself the power of infusing into it the elements of strength. 
Naturally sagacious, he had not only seen the want of his time, 
but had determined to supply it. A good family newspaper 
was needed — he provided it. A cheap newspaper was essen- 


tial — he sold the Times for one cent. Money was wanted to 
keep the new craft afloat in its early days — the generous zeal 
of the men who had full faith in Raymond supplied ample 
means. No paper was ever launched in New York under more 
favorable auspices. 

From the beginning, Raymond set an example of application 
to all who were in his employ. Only those who have been 
placed upon the treadmill of a daily newspaper in New York 
know the severity of the strain it imposes upon the mental and 
physical powers. There is no cessation. The labor bestowed 
upon the preparation of one copy of a daily journal is equal to 
that for which a week is occupied in any other profession, or in 
the pursuits of commerce ; for, the material of each day having 
been wholly consumed, a series of new processes is constantly 
required to replenish the exhausted supply. A good newspaper 
never publishes that which is technically denominated " old 
news," — a phrase so significant in journalism as to be invested 
with untold horrors. All must be daily fresh, daily complete, 
daily jDolished and perfect ; else the journal falls into disrepute, 
is distanced by its rivals, and, becoming " dull," dies. The 
older newspapers in New York which have become extinct, 
lost vitality at the moment when they failed to be representa- 
tive of the spirit of their time. The railroad, the telegraph, 
the advance of civilization, the applications of science to the 
common afiairs of life, the resulting growth of inquiry, and the 
development of broader human sympathies, inspired a desire 
for daily mirrors to reflect faithfully all that the world was 
doing — all that men were working for — all that the progress 
of art and invention, of skill and -industry, was accomplishing. 
Keeping pace in a certain degree with this growing desire, Ben- 
nett began the Herald; going a step further, Greeley established 
the Tribune; reaching still beyond these, Raymond started the 
Timea; and the first lesson he gave his assistants was this: 
" Get all the news ; never indulge in personalities ; treat all men 
civilly ; put all your strength into your work, and remember 
that a daily newspaper should be an accurate reflection of the 
world as it is." Upon this foundation the Times was built, — 
and the foundation was rock. Some severe tempests have 

THE MAN. 221 

assailed the paper, in Raymond's time and since his death ; but 
it was so strongly braced at the outset, and it has gained so 
many solid props from the support of patrons who have clung 
to it for eighteen years, that its stability is assured. The 
severe labor performed by Mr. Eaymoud in the earlier years of 
the Times is a tradition in that office to-day, and the sagacity 
with which he touched the public pulse gave the paper an im- 
petus which has carried it constantly forward.* He saw that 
work — hard work — was essential to success ; and late and 
early he was at his post. 

In all the departments of Journalism he had become a model 
workman. Energetic as a reporter, assiduous as a correspond- 
ent, diligent as a compiler, impartial as a critic, fluent as a 
writer, and judicious as a manager, he had gained an enviable 
reputation in the ranks of the newspaper men of New York, 
many years before his elevation to the -highest place in Journal- 
ism. When he became an employer, he extended a hand of 
manly welcome to the employed ; regarding them, in the light 
of his own experience, as men to whom gentle consideration 
was due oftener than it was usually given. He was rarely mis- 

♦The New York Nation, edited by Mr. Godkin, long one of Mr. Ray- 
mond's assistants in the Times, very truly remarked after his death : " No- 
body was more profoundly sensible than he of the defects and dangers of 
journalism as a profession — defects and dangers which nearly everybody 
sees but editors, and which it would be well if editors saw oftener — the reck- 
lessness, haste, indifference to finish and accuracy and abstract justice which it 
is apt to beget In the minds of those who pursue it, and especially of those 
who pursue it eagerly. Let us add that nobody has done more, we doubt if 
anybody has done so much, for the elevation of the profession. In the art of 
making a good newspaper, we need hardly say, he was a master. The Times 
under his management probably came nearer the newspaper of the good time 
coming than any other in existence ; in this, that it encouraged truthfulness — 
the reproduction of facts uncolored. by the necessities of ' a cause ' or by the 
editor's personal feelings — among reporters ; that it carried decency, tem- 
perance, and moderation into discussion, and banished personality from it ; 
and thus not only supplied the only means by which rational beings can get at 
thetruth, but helped to abate the greatest nuisance of the age, the coarseness, 
violence, calumny, which does so much to drive sensible and high-minded and 
competent men out of public life or keep them from entering it. Moreover, 
it rendered journalism and the community the essential service of abstaining 
from the puffery of worthless people, which does so much for the corruption 
of our politics," 


taken in his selection of assistants ; still more rarely did he fail 
to attach them to himself by ties of personal regard ; and often 
these ties became strengthened in a bond of positive affection. 
He required honest work in the hours of work ; but the labor 
was not inadequately rewarded, and in moments of leisure the 
pleasant courtesies of society were freely interchanged. In 
carrying out his idea of conciliation and good-fellowship to its 
natural conclusion, he fell into the pleasant habit of extending 
to his assistants the hospitalities of his home. On " reception 
nights," or at social family dinners, the men of the Times often 
met together as fellow-guests, free from the cares of toil, and, 
by interchanging the civilities of life, came to know each other, 
and to feel a kindly interest, each for the welfare of the other, 
which would never have been excited in the hurry of purely 
professional routine. 

An illustrative incident, revealed since the death of Mr. 
Eaymond, shows that this tender regard for his subordinates 
continued unabated to the last. In the spring of 1869, calling 
aside his partner, Mr. Jones, Mr. Eaymond spoke of the good 
service performed by three gentlemen in the editorial depart- 
ment of the paper, and added, " We don't pay them enough ; 
they must have more ; I don't see how they can live upon their 
salaries." The partners agreed that the compensation should 
be increased; but the sudden death of Mr. Raymond threw 
the Times' establishment into confusion, and the compliment 
was postponed. It is due to Mr. Jones to add that the desire 
expressed by Mr. Raymond was subsequently fulfilled to the 

It should also be mentioned that, a few months before his 
death, Mr. Raymond contemplated an annual division of a per- 
centage of the profits of the Times among four of his assist- 
ants, whose long and faithful service had commended them to 
his warm regard. 

Acts like these not only endear men to those who serve 
them, but stimulate the recipients of the compliment to live- 
lier interest and increased exertion. The repressive policy, 
niggardly at best, often defeats its own ends, by repelling- 
good service, or by chilling the ardor of men whose circum- 

THE MAN. 223 

stances compel them to submit. The open hand and the spirit 
of generous appreciation, in the end, outweigh the griping fist 
and the sordid soul. 

Mr. Raymond's tact was one of his most notable qualities. 
Better than the majority of men, he possessed the power of 
keeping his temper under control. He was never betrayed by 
anger into discourtesy. In the hours of business, in the office 
of the Times, the sole indication of a disturbance of his mental 
equilibrium was his occasional rapid transit through the outer 
editorial room to his private office, with an emphatic cliiik of 
his boot-heel upon the floor, but utter silence of the tongue. 
Curiosity was at once awakened, and, within the hour, some 
derelict person, who had made a blunder, or disregarded an 
order, was seen emerging, discomfited, from the presence to 
which he had been summoned, — for Raymond was always a 
strict disciplinarian, and in this fact, coupled with his own 
intimate knowledge of the proper quality of newspaper work, 
lay part of the secret of his power. He was not an ignorant 
pretender, destitute of practical acquaintance with the require- 
ments of editorial labor, but a man who had himself done all 
that he required others to do, — and he was respected accord- 

An amusing instance of Mr. Raymond's firm control oc- 
curred soon after the removal of the Times to the building it 
now occupies. One of the writers in the editorial force, 
nettled by the rejection of several articles upon which he had 
bestowed much thought, ventured a remonstrance, concluding 
with an announcement of his intention to cease writing, if noth- 
ino- he had prepared was to be used. Raymond received this 
declaration with a placid air, mildly remarking, " There is but 
one Editor of the Times ; and if your place is distasteful to 
you, you know you are at liberty to resign." The indignant 
writer did not resign,, but continued in the service of the paper 
for several years afterwards. 

On another occasion, a rebellious reporter, assigned by the 
City Editor of the Times to a task distasteful to him, appealed 
to Mr. Raymond for redress. He was politely informed, 
throuo-h the medium of a brief note, courteous but sharp, that 


his duty was to obey orders, and that, in the opinion of the 
Chief, the order which had been given was entirely proper. 
Any repetition of this defiance of constituted authority — it 
was added — would be regarded as good cause for immediate 
dismissal. The protesting reporter never again protested ; but, 
on the contrary, became one of the most valuable assistants in 
the Times. 

Mr. Raymond's idea of Journalism was broad and generous. 
In the columns of the Times he sought to interpret the popu- 
lar sentiment, rather than to guide it into unknown channels ; 
honestly believing that the province of the Journalist is not 
that of the Reformer, but that of the Leader. He had no 
patience with the class of newspaper editors who seek to 
destroy, and never ofiier the faintest practical suggestion for 
building up. Iconoclasts in every department of human life 
he abhorred. 

His theory, in effect, was, that the Press as a representative 
power should conserve all the. best elements in society ; and, 
while refusing to no Reform a fair hearing, should reject the 
radical plans intended to uproot all that men hold dear. Act- 
ing upon this belief, he opposed the Socialistic fallacies which 
had been introduced into this country by Brisbane and Gree- 
ley. Showing his faith by works, in his later years he 
battled with the Radical element in the Republican party, 
which had striven to reduce the conquered States of the South 
to a condition of territorial subjection. In both these phases 
of his life he was unquestionably honest. The records cited 
in this volume show that he was actuated, throughout, b}'^ a 
pure motive ; and the admissions of his bitterest opponents 
after his death furnish in themselves abundant proof that nei- 
ther the malignity of passion, nor the desire of, .political 
emolument, governed his course as a public character. 

Nevertheless, justice requires a verdict founded upon actual 
truth ; and it would be idle to deny that Mr. Raymond failed 
as a politician. 

It is a false sentiment which bestows only fulsome eulogy 
upon the dead. In the imperfect constitution of majikind, 
great qualities are counterbalanced by the smaller ; the good 


i FriCsimile ol',Tlii0eoilfcfJaymon(^sE<Worial Copy' ; 


THE MAN. 225 

by the evil, — and in the character which is marked by quali- 
ties deserving the highest praise, there is inevitably something 
to deplore. 

In analyzing the character of Mr. Kaymond, it should not 
be forgotten that, while he was a man of honest purpose, his 
mental constitution led him to look at the negative as well as 
at the positive side of every question. This tendency was illus- 
trated in his political career by his mistaken championship of 
Andrew Johnson, at a time when the name of the Chief 
Executive of the nation had become a byword and a reproach. 
We have shown in a previous chapter, however, that when 
convinced of his error, he was prompt to make frank confes- 
sion. The confession atoned, in some measure, for the error ; 
but the evil had been done, and the sting remained. 

In his conduct of the Times, also, Mr. Raymond was some- 
times fickle. He espoused with ardor the cause which com- 
mended itself to his better judgment ; but was too apt, at 
times, to discover equally good reasons for taking an opposite 
course. " This duality of vision," said one of his friends, " was 
sometimes a torment to him ; " and Raymond himself re- 
• marked : " If those of my friends who call me a waverer, 
could only know how impossible it is for me to see but one 
aspect of a question, or to espouse but one side of a cause, 
they would pity rather than condemn me ; and, however much 
I may wish myself differently constituted, yet I cannot unmake 
the original structure of my mind." 

This peculiar mental habit detracted from Mr. Raymond's 
force. Had his convictions been more intense, his will more 
powerful, his errors would have been fewer. But the errors 
existed ; and they must be candidly acknowledged in making 
up the record of his life. 

Mr. Raymond's methods of literary labor were peculiar. Al- 
ways rapid in his movements, his hand had been educated by 
long newspaper practice to obey automatically the quick action 
of his brain. His thought was logical and clear, and his man- 
uscript, dashed off with scarcely an erasure, and often without 
revision, went into the hands of the printer, ready for instant 
use. He possessed the faculty of concentration; holding an 


idea firmly until ho had given it fitting expression, undisturbed 
l)y the confusion and interruptions incidental to a newspaper 
office.* The accompanying /ac simile of his "copy" — the 
first page of an article on the question of Copyright — is a 
fair specimen of the appearance of his manuscript. The style 
of the chirography is neat, plain, and simple. 

Absorption in more pressing duties prevented Mr. Eay- 
mond from accomplishing any great literary work, aside from 
his contributions to the Times. His first serious effort as 
author or compiler was the preparation of a biography of 
Abraham Lincoln, published in New York in 1865. He found 
time, however, to make many elaborate speeches on topics of 
political importance ; and in August, 1850, he delivered the 
annual address before the Alumni of the University of Ver- 
mont, at Burlington. The subject of this address was, 
" The Relations of the American Scholar to his Country and ' 
his Times." It was repeated, by special request, before the 
literary societies of Brown University, in Providence, at their 
annual celebration in the following September. In this ad- 
dress, ascending to the higher level of purely literary disqui- 
sition, aiid dealing with questions broader than those which 
occupied his pen in the daily routine of journalistic duty, Mr. 
Raymond displayed the- resources of a highly cultivated mind, 
the best qualities of an accomplished rhetorician, and the 
broad sympathies and philosophical conclusions of a thoughtful 
observer. The address, interesting alike from its subject and 
its associations, is republished entire in the Appendix to this 
volume, as the best illustration of certain mental quahties in 

* This was notably illustrated at the time of the death of Daniel Webster. 
The Times of October 25, 1862, contained a biography of Mr. Webster, 
twenty-six columns In length, every word of which was written and put in 
type in the few hours which intervened between the receipt of the intelligence 
that the great statesman was dying, and the moment when the Times of the 
25th was put to press. Doubt has been expressed, since the death of Mr. 
Raymond, concerning the amount of this gigantic labor which he performed 
In person. The writer of these pages was witness to the work. Mr. Ray- 
mond wrote exactly sixteen columns of the biography, and two of his assist- 
ants indited the remaining ten columns. Mr. Raymond, therefore, actually 
wrote sixteen columns of the Times in less than half a day; and this, too, 
without the aid of any material previously prepared. 

THE MAN. 227 

its author, which might have entitled him to rank among the 
scholarly orators of his time.* 

On the 4th of July, 1854, Mr. Eaymond delivered an ad- 
dress at the Fourth of July celebration in Geneseo, Livingston 
County, — his subject being "The Political Lessons of the 
Eevolution." This production was better than the average of 
Fourth of July orations ; but the occasion did not call for any 
elaborate effort. 

Mr. Eaymoiid's brain was tireless. In intervals of repose, 
after the duties of the day were done, his mind reverted to 
speculative fancies, or dwelt upon recondite problems. His 
principal recreation was the study of the metaphysical. This 
peculiarity, which had made him singular in College, clung to 
him through life, and it was natural to him to investigate with 
care all new phases of mental philosophy. His earliest training 
had been that of the extreme orthodoxy of the Presbyterian 
Church ; and for many years after he had begun to think and act 
for himself, the old traditions governed his religious belief. Ex- 
perience of the world, reading, study, travel, comparisons of 
conflicting systems of theology, subsequently shook his faith ; 
and he was accustomed to speak with admiration of Coleridge's 
"Friend." The whole tenor of his thought on religions 
subjects was changed by the perusal of a book which he took 
up as it fell from the press. The book was " The Gates Ajar," 
a little volume written by Miss Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, and 
published in Boston a few months before the death of Mr. Ray- 
mond. Strangely impressed by this work, he read it with deep 
attention, and amended his theory of the nature of the future 
life. The fact is an interesting illustration of two points, — 
namely, the readiness of Mr. Raymond's mind to receive new 
impressions, and the unexpected effects sometimes produced by 
simple causes. An attached friend of Mr. Raymond — Rev. 
Hemy M. Field — has written the following allusion to this in- 
cident: "I spent an hour with Mr. Raymond at his home, 
when the conversation ran from topics of business to other 
themes. He had lately had repeated domestic sorrow. But a 

* See Appendix E. 


few months before he had stood at the bedside of his dying fa- 
ther, and only a few weelts before, in the very house where we 
sat, a son, to whom he was greatly attached, had given up his 
young soul to God. Such events could not but produce a deep 
impression on a thoughtful mind. He told me he had been 
reading with interest that little book which has made so much 
stir in certain quarters, " Gates Ajar." He thought our ideas 
of the future life were too shadowy and dim ; and he seemed 
to be groping after something more definite and real in his con- 
ceptions of the invisible world. Little did he think he was so 
soon to enter it ; to pass within the veil, and to know the great 
mystery. What a solace to think of reunions beyond the 
grave, which can make the dead forget all the bitterness of 
past separations ! " * 

The domestic relations of Mr. Eaymond are not properly the 
subject of extended remark. The veil of privacy should fall 
upon the home-life of any man, except in so far as the intima- 
cies of the family circle are revealed to the gaze of the casual 
visitor, or in so far as they become the visible indexes of charac- 
ter.! That Mr. Raymond was kindly to all, is proved by his 
public record. That he was tender and affectionate in the 
closer relations of life, all who knew him will testify. He was 
apparently reserved in his manner towards those whom he 
encountered in ordinary channels of business, but he once ex- 
plained that this reserve was the result of a deep-rooted habit 
of permitting no interference with the duties of the hour ; for, 
like all men who occupy editorial positions, he was daily sub- 
jected to annoyance from the inconsiderate. But, once freed 
from the restraints of labor, he was remarkable for sociality and 

* New York Evangelist, June, 1869. 

t While a student in college, Mr. Raymond became enamored of the lady 
whom lie subsequently married, — Miss Juliette Weaver, the daughter of Mr. 
Warren Weaver, a citizen of the village of Winooski, in Vermont. Of seven 
children who were born to them, four survive. The oldest son, Mr. Henry 
W. Eaymond, was fiuishing his studies in Yale College at the time of his 
father's death ; and being soon graduated with the honors of his class, en- 
tered the profession of Journalism in the office of the Times, where he is now 
a diligent and faithful worker. 

THE MAN. 229 

No finer tribute was ever paid by man to woman than that 
which John Stuart Mill has recorded in the moving Preface to 
his volume entitled "Liberty," in which he writes : "To the 
beloved and deplored memory of her who was the inspirer,and 
in part the author, of all that is best in my writings — the 
friend and wife whose exalted sense of truth and right was my 
strongest incitement, and whose approbation was my chief 
reward — I dedicate this' volume. Like all that I have writ- 
ten for many years, it belongs as much to her as to me ; but 
the work as it stands, has had, in a very insufficient degree, 

the inestimable advantage of her revision Were I but 

capable of interpreting to the world one-half the great thoughts 
and noble feelings which are buried in her grave, I should be 
the medium of a greater benefit to it than is ever likely to 
arise from anything that I can write, unprompted -and unas- 
sisted by her all but unrivalled wisdom." 

The man who could truthfully write such words as these is 
the man against whom the tongue of scandal never plays, — 
upon whose character no taint falls, — whose life is always pure 
and sweet and noble, — and upon whose memory there is no 

In closing the pages of this volume which bear directly upon 
the history of Mr. EajTnond, a final tribute must be paid to 
the charming trait of filial devotion which was so strongly 
marked in his character. His love for his parents was simple 
and tender as that of a child, and it suffered no change to^the 
latest hour of his life. His mother's words, uttered lovingly 
while she sorrowed for his loss, form the best epitaph that 
could be written over the grave of Henry Jarvis Eaymond : 
"He was always a good son." 







Returning to the consideration of Journalism, aside from 
the personal career of Mr. Raymond, it is proper to allude to 
some of the incidents and anecdotes of newspaper life, a part 
of which are connected with the history of the Times. 

Although the profession of Journalism is exigeant, it has its 
humors ; and many of these arise from the incidents of keen 
rivalry. One story of the enterprise of the Times has never 
been told, and this is a fitting place in which to tell it : — 


In September, 1854, the Collins steamer Arctic was lost at 
sea. Among her passengers were many prominent citizens of 
New York ; and the news of the dreadhil shipwreck carried 
poignant sorrow to hundreds of households. Early in Octo- 
ber, when the steamer had been long overdue at the port of 
New York, on her return voyage from Liverpool, vague appre- 
hensions of disaster began to prevail ; and, as day after day 
passed, without tidings of the missing vessel, wild rumors 
filled the air. From day to day, the feeling of dread became 
intensified, and the excitement hourly increased. Finally, late 
in the night of the 10th of October, a rumor suddenly spread 
through the city, to the eflect that the Arctic had actually been 


lost ; that there had been a fearful loss of human lives ; that 
a solitary survivor had returned, and that this survivor had 
brought authentic intelligence of the disaster. This report 
reached the ear of the assistant who was then in charge of the 
City Department of the Times; but it reached him at an ad- 
vanced hour of the night, when all but himself had finished 
their labors, and had returned to their homes. Sending report- 
ers out in all directions, with strict charge to spare no pains 
in sifting the rumors of the night, he strove to gather authen- 
tic intelligence ; but the effort was futile. The reporters re- 
turned with news that no trace of the survivor's movements 
could be found. A paragraph was accordingly written, an- 
nouncing, in guarded phrase, that rumors of the total loss of 
the Arctic had been current during the night, but that nothing 
of a definite character was known. This announcement, 
placed in a prominent part of the Times, under a displayed 
heading, was all that it was possible to say. Discomfited, dis- 
couraged, and apprehensive, the head of the City Department 
then departed for his home. 

But the adventures and the excitements of the night were 
not destined to be so speedily finished. The perturbed editor, 
instinctively feeling that there was something yet unrevealed, 
mused while dozing in a horse-car, at the hour of three o'clock 
in the morning ; and his strung nerves made him sensitive. 
Scarcely had the car gone a half-mile from its starting-point, 
when a stranger, hurriedly coming down a side street, jumped 
upon the rear platform, evidently in an excited state, and began 
aconversation with the conductor, in the hurried and incoherent 
manner of a man who had simultaneously heard startling news, 
and had indulged in conviviality. The disjointed sentences 
which fell from the lips of this man furnished a clue to the 
watchful editor in the furthest corner of the car,- whose hear- 
ino' was as painfully acute as his professional pride was seri- 
ously wounded, — for defeat in the pursuit of news sits heavily 
upon the soul of the newspaperman. The words, " Arctic " 

" only man wh* had got in " — " Burns " — " St. Nicholas 

Hotel" — "Herald Office" — "all night " — " tired out" — 
"bottle of wine" — conveyed distinct ideas. The words 


formed themselves into this shape in the mind of the wearj' 
watcher in the corner : " A man by the name of Burns has 
escaped from the wreck of the Arctic ; he is at the St. Nicho- 
las Hotel; he has pushed on towards New York as fast as 
possible after landing; he has gravitated to the Herald 
Office, knowing that the Herald pays well for exclusive 
news ; the Herald has got his story ; and there is a trick to 
keep it away from all the other papers ! " Out of the car 
dashed the Times man ; down Broadway he tore ; across the 
Park, and up to the printing-room of the Times he rushed. 
There he found the foreman placidly putting on his coat, in 
preparation for departure. " Stop the Press ! " was the first 
order uttered. " Why ? " inquired the foreman. " Because the 
Herald has got hold of a survivor of the Arctic, and is trying 
one of its old games ; but we'll beat yet ! " 

A bell tinkled; a message went down the speaking-tube 
which led from composing-room to cellar; the great press 
stopped. A workman in the press-room was called up, and 
these words passed : — 

" South,* you know the Herald office ; they've got hold of a 
story about the Arctic, which belongs to all the Press, and 
they mean to keep it, and cheat us out of it. I want a copy 
of it. I want you to get it in any way you can ; will you do 

" How do you know they've got it ? " 

The circumstances were recited. 

"All right ! " said " South ; " " I'll get it, provided you don't 
ask me any questions." 

The promise was given. " South " departed, to return a few 
minutes afterwards, with the information that the Herald office 
was all alight (the hour was four o'clock in the morning) ; that 
the press-room was fast-locked, and that all the carriers and 
newsboys had been excluded. 

" What shall I do ? " asked " South." 

" Get the first copy of the Herald that comes oflF the press," 
was the order instantly given. " Buy it, l:\^g it, steal it ! any- 

* A curious character, named John Long, — now dead. 


thing, so long as you get it; and to-morrow you shall have 
fifty dollars for your trouble." 

"Enough said," observed "South." 

Twenty minutes later, he appeared in the office of the Times 
(then at the corner of Beelnnan and Nassau Streets) with a 
copy of the Herald, containing Mr. George H. Burns's narra- 
tive of the loss of the "Arctic," entire, printed in double- 
leaded type. 

Meanwhile, the whole force of Times' compositors had been 
routed out of their beds, by messengers sent in urgent haste ; 
each man stood at his "case," "stick" in hand, and when 
" South " returned, waving the next morning's Herald triumph- 
antly over his head, a mighty "Hurrah !" went up, which might 
have been heard for several blocks. The Herald " copy " was 
cut up into four-line " takes ; " in an hour the whole story was 
in type ; and the people of the Herald, blissfully unconscious 
that a copy of that journal had been adroitly abstracted, with- 
held all their city circulation until nine A. m., sending off only 
the mail copies (^ntaining the long-expected relation of the 
dreadful disaster. By eight o'clock in the morning, the Times 
was procurable at all the news-stands in the city, and its subscrib- 
ers had received the news an hour before. Edition after edi- 
tion of the Times was called for ; and its Hoe press ran with- 
out intermission from seven o'clock in the morning until two 
o'clock in the afternoon, to supply the continual demand. 

Nor was this all, for on the following day the Times gave 
twelve columns of statements of passengers who had escaped 
by boats fi'om the sinking steamer, and one column of editorial 
comment upon the disaster. Mr. Eaymond, entering fully into 
the spirit of the occasion, volunteered his services as a reporter, 
and for one day actually put himself under the orders of the City 
Editor who had the matter in charge. It is, needless to add 
that Mr. Raymond's report was the best of all. 

On the following pay-day "South" received his gift from the 
proprietors of the Times, and the City Editor's salary was 
increased at the rate of five dollars a week, as a reward for the 
energy he had displayed.* 

* Mr. Fletcher Harper, Jr., was thenthe publisher of the Times. 


This incident illustrates one peculiarity of the profession of 
Journalism, — namely, the eagerness with which the earliest 
news is caught up. Unquestionably, the agents of the Herald 
attempted to play a trick, for the man Burns, exhausted by ex- 
posure and suffering, had trusted to the honor of the Herald to 
furnish to all the Press the important news he brought. There 
is reason to believe that a promise of this nature was given, and 
then broken. But the Times was able to " beat " the Herald, 
despite the trick. 

Should the reader be curious to see the narrative which gave 
rise to all this excitement, here it is, in full : — 

From the New Torlc Times, of Oct. 11, 1854. 

" The steamship Arctic, with two hundred and twenty-six passengers, 
exclusive of children, one hundred and seventy-five empioyfis, a valuable 
cargo and heavy mail, is lost. Of the more than four hundred souls who left 
Liverpool on the twentieth ultimo, full of hope, gayety, and health, many re- 
turning from a European tour of pleasure, only thirty-two are known to have 
been saved, and certainly not more than one hundred«an, by any possibility, 
have escaped a watery grave. 

" In addition to all this, another large steamer, freighted with hundreds of 
human beings, has, in all probability met a like fate. The details of the hor- 
rible disaster are as follows : — 

"On Wednesday, September 27, precisely at twelve o'clock m., in a dense 
fog, we came in contact with a bark-rigged iron propeller, with black hull, 
salmon-colored bottom, lead-colored poop and boats, and black pipe. She 
was bound eastward, and had all sails set, with a strong, fair wind. The 
speed of the Arctic at the time was about thirteen knots an hour. The 
shock to us appeared slight, but the damage to the other vessel was fright- 
ful. Captain Luce instantly ordered the quarter-boats cleared away, and 
the chief mate, boatswain, and three sailors went to her relief; before other 
boats left, the order was countermanded. The Arctic then described a cir- 
cle twice round the wreck, during which time I caught a glimpse of more 
than two hundred people clustered ouher hurricane deck. 

" At this juncture it was first ascertained that we had sustained injury, 
and the water was pouring in at our bows. When the first officer came 
alongside to reporf, the captain was unable to take him up, but headed N. 
N. W. in the hope of makiug land. Our position on the previous day, at 
twelve o'clock, was lat. 48° 39', long, i^^ 2,T. We had run about three hundred 
and ten miles from the time of this observation until the moment of collision, 
and were supposed to be forty miles from Cape Race. 

" The pumps were worked vigorously, and an anchor-chain thrown over- 
board ; but, in spite of all exertion, the engines stopped and the water extin- 
guished the fires. Four of the five other life-boats, believed tcf have been 


■well provisioned, containing tlie engineers, sailors, a few passengers, and all 
the officers except the- captain and third mate, left the ship at an early stage, 
The majority of the passengers were working at the pumps, — some firing 
the signal guns, and others launching spars, under the direction of Captain 
Luce and Mr. Dorian, the third mate, to form a raft. 

" In order to facilitate this latter work, the sixth and last boat was lowered. 
Dorian, one or two firemen, three of the other passengers saved, and myself, 
were busily engaged lashing water-casks and settees to the main-yard, two 
top-gallant yards, and several smaller spars, — the captain, with a number of 
gentlemen, protecting the work by keeping back the crowd, — when a panic 
seized all ou board, a rush was made, passengers and firemen precipitated 
themselves headlong over the bulwarks on to the raft, and in a moment our 
little boat was full, and in imminent danger of being sunk. 

" In this emergency, Dorian ordered the rope which Ijeld us to the steamer 
to be cut, and with our hands and axes we paddled from the raft's side. 
The mate, who throughout preserved great presence of mind, and labored 
with heroic energy, cried out: 'For God's sake, captain, clear the raft, so 
that we can work; I won't desert the ship while there's a timber above 

" But the sea was now flush with the dead-lights. In less than three min- 
utes from the time he spoke, the stern sunk, — the foam went boiling over 
the tumbling heap of human beings, — many were dashed forward against 
the pipe. I heard one wild yell (still ringing in my ears), and saw the 
Arctic and the struggling mass rapidly engulfed. Numbers yet clung to the 
imperfectly constructed raft ; but, alas ! we could render them no aid. Our 
own situation was no less precarious ; and, cruel as it seemed, we were forced 
to abandon them to fate. 

" Heaven forbid that I should ever witness such another scene ! We, how- 
ever, picked up two more men, and then, with an overloaded boat, without 
oars, tholepins, food or drink, avoiding with diflaculty the fragments of the 
wreck, and passing many dead females, prepared for a night upon the ocean. 
We secured a floating pumpkin and cabbage, to guard against immediate 
starvation, lashed a spar to the bow of our boat to keep her head to the wind 
and sea, and thus drifted until daylight; the night was cold and foggy, with 
a heavy swell, and, in a cramped, drenched, and half-naked condition, we 
suffbred terribly. 

" Without dwelling upon our miseries, alleviated much by the conscious- 
ness that we had endeavored to do our duty to our fellow-men, suflice it to 
say, that at five o'clock on the afternoon of the 28th, we espied a sail, and 
raised a handkerchief to attract attention. We were successful. With the 
rude substitute for oars which we had constructed during the day by lashing 
planks to capstan bars, with a view of attempting to gain land when the sea 
subsided, we pulled toward the ship. On our way we passed the remnant of 
the raft, with one man on it, apparently alive. 

"The bark proved to be the Huron, of St. Andrews, N. B., Captain A. 
Wall, bound for Quebec. Our men safe on board, the noble-hearted Dorian, 
with some of the Huron's crew, returned to the raft, and rescued the poor 
fellow, who, for twenty-six hours, had clung to the spars. He states that 
after the steamship sunk, he counted seventy-two men and four women on the 


raft, but at half past eight o'clock he was the only one alive. In the morn- 
ing two bodies were beside him, much eaten by fishes, and at the time ha 
saw our boat he was on the point of voluntarily dropping into the sea to 
end his agouy. Coming from the raft, Dorian encountered and examined the 
life car of the Arctic. It contained a bottle of water, some cheese, and a 
lady's garment. 

" By the humane captain of the Huron, and Mr. Wellington Cameron, a son 
of the owner, we were received with great kindness, our wounds dressed, 
fires kindled, and food and clothing provided in abundance. During the night 
of the 28th, Captain "Wall hung out extra lights, fired rockets, and kept a 
horn blowing, in hopes of falling in with the remainder of the boats. But 
his endeavors were fruitless. On the evening of the 29th, he spoke the ship 
Lebanon, Captain Story, bound for New York, by whom eighteen of our num- 
ber were taken off, kindly welcomed, and well-treated. 

" We have this moment reached New York, by pilot-boat Christian Borg, 
No. 16, to which we were transferred from the Lebanon, and to the crew of 
which we are under great obligations. 

" The fate of the propeller and our five boats is unknown. If the steamer 
was, as I have reason to think, the Charity, from Montreal to Liverpool,, she 
is, I believe, built with water-tight compartments, or bulkheads, and will 
float, notwithstanding the damage to her bow. The fact that a boat left her 
which, was capsized by our paddles augurs ill for her buoyant condition, 
though Captain Wall, of the Huron, on the morning of the 28th, saw a singu- 
lar-looking craft far to leeward, but was unable to tell whether she was a 
steamer or sailing vessel. 

" He says she had a nondescript appearance, and may have been the wreck 
of the propeller. The following is a list of those saved in the sixth boat : — 


James Abry, ship's cook. 
Luke McCarthy, fireman. 
Joseph Connelly, " 

Richard Mahan, " 

Thomas Conroy, " ' 

James Connor, " 

John Drury, " 

Christian Moran, " 

James Ward, " 

Christopher Callaher, " 
Thomas Wilson, assistant engineer. 
Robert Byron, waiter. 
David Barry, " 
Erastns Miller, " 


Edward Brien, fireman. 
Patrick Mahon, " 
Thomas Garland, " 
Patrick Casey, " 


Patrick Tobin, flreman. 

Dobbin Carnagan, " 

Thomas Brennan, assistant engineer. 

Jolin Connolly, engineers' steward. 

Thomas Stinson, officers' steward. 

James Carnagan, porter. 

Michael McLaughlin, boy. 

Peter McCabe (picked off the raft), waiter. 

Wm. NicoUs, Trescoa, Sicily Island, passenger. 

Henry Jenkins, " << 

James Thompson, New Orleans, " 

Capt. Paul F. Grann, New York, " 

George H. Burns, Philadelphia, " 

Francis Dorian, New York, third officer. 


" The Qve boats which may have reached land, or been picked up, are known 
to have contained 

Mr. Goveley, first officer. 

Thomas Wilde, boatswain. 

Mr. Balam, second officer. 

Mr. Graham, fourth officer. 

Mr. Moore, New York, passenger. 

Mr. Rogers, chief engineer. 

Mr. Drown, first assistant. 

Mr. Walker, second " 

Mr. Willett, third " 

Daniel Connelly, flreman. 

John Moran, " 

John Flanigan, " 

Patrick McConloy, " 

Mr. Dingnel, engineer. 

Mr. Kelly, " 

Mr. Simpson, " 

" And a young man named Robinson, under Instructions in the engineer's 
department, besides sailors and quartermasters. 

" Amongst those whom I last saw on the quarter-deck, whilst fastening 
life-preservers on the females, and who must have sunk with the ship, or 
perished on the raft, were Captain Luce and son, Mrs. E. K. Collins, Master 
Colt Collins, Miss Collins, Mr. Brown and family (connection of the senior 
of the firm of Brown, Shipley & Co., Liverpool), Mr. Thomas, Importer of 
hosiery. New York; Mr. Adams, Brooklyn; Mr. Bowers, Cincinnati; Mr. 
Charles Springer, Cincinnati; James Mnirhead, Jr., Petersburg, Va. ; Mr. 
Hewitt, Mrs. Hewitt and daughter, Fredericksburg, Va. ; Mr. Wood, New 
York; Mr. Ysahi, Mr. Schmidt, Miss Marston, Falmouth, England ; a nephew 
of Mr. Bloodgood, hotel-keeper, Philadelphia, residing in Albany; the Duke 
de Grammont, of the French Embassy; second steward, wife and child; 
Annie, a colored girl, and Mary, stewardesses ; Miss Jones, Mr. Petrle and 



lady, Stewart Hollin, "Wasliingtos, D. C. ; J. Cook, Opelonsas, La. ; with 
many! more, whose names I do not know, but whose features are indelibly- 
imprinted on my memory. 

"A Mr. Comstock, brother to the commander of the Baltic, was drowned 
by the capsizing of a boat whilst being lowered. 

"Government despatches from France and England, entrusted to my care 
by Mr. Buchanan, I could not save. 

"The boat in which we escaped was one of Francis's patent metallic. No. 
727, from which her capacity can be ascertained and compared with the num- 
ber rescued. 

" Respectfully, 

"Geo. H. Burns. 
" Adams & Co.'a Express, Philadelphia. 
"New York, October 10, 1864." 

In the list of passengers, received by the " Canada " from 
Liverpool, were the following among others : — 

M. Dupassien, Mrs. Edward K. Collins, of New York, 
Miss M. A. CoUins and Master C. Collins, O. Fabbricotti, 
Mrs. Howland and son, F. W- Gale and wife, Duke de Gram- 
mont and servant. Captain D. Pratt, Edward Sanford, of New 
York, and G. Gwynet, wife and child. 

Mr. Burns, on the morning after his arrival in New York, 
went to Adams' Express office, where he was soon surrounded 
by a large crowd of anxious persons seeking an interview in 
relation to friends and relatives on board the " Arctic." Other 
survivors, brought by the Lebanon, went to the Seaman's Ke- 
treat, on Staten Island. 


In the Italian campaign of 1859, the newspapers of England, 
France, and the United States were engaged in eager rivalry. 
The struggle to obtain early and " exclusive " intelligence of 
the events of the war continued unabated imtil the end of the 
struggle. The London Times selected its best correspondent 
for service in the Italian army ; leading French journals 
promptly recorded the successes of Napoleon, and glorified the 
carnage of Solferino and Magenta ; the New York newspapers 
had representatives on all the fields of battle, and the foremost 
among these was Mr. Eaymond, to whom the Times and its 


readers were indebted for the clearest and most complete of all 
the contemporaneous narratives. 

The " brilliant run " executed by Mr. Raymond when he sup- 
posed himself pursued by an infuriated squadron of Austrian 
cuirassiers has been described in a vivid style, not by him- 
self, but by his partner in that singular trial of speed, whose 
account is here copied from his own narrative, as originally 
published in the Troy Daily Whig : — 

" Mr. Eaymond has been much ridiculed for things which 
never occurred in connection with his visit to the seat of war 
in Italy in 1859, and for things which he was in no way actually 
responsible for. 

" The notable expression, ' the Elbows of the Mincio,' which 
appeared in the N. Y. Times editorially, in the summer of 1859, 
was by the very accomplished scholar, but eccentric gentleman, ' 
who was then in charge of the editorial columns in Mr. Ray- 
mond's absence, and the writer of this heard Mr. Raymond de- 
nounce the article, when he first read it in Paris. 

"But Mr. Raymond was the 'responsible' editor of the 
Times, and he never shirked or 'went back' upon his friends 
or coadjutors ; so he never disavowed it. Besides, there was 
never much need of it, for it helped to convey the idea of a 
crooked river on the western side of the Quadrilateral. 

" But ridicule did not stick to him, for every one respected 
his prodigious talents and industry as a writer, speaker, par- 
liamentarian, and journalist. 

" What I intended to refer to specially was the famous race 
at Castiglione. It has always been thrown at Mr. Raymond, 
as if it involved some lack of courage on his part, and as if it 
occurred at some time during the battle of Solferino, at the 
moment of some apparent reverse to the allied lines, upon 
which he took up" his flight in consternation from the field. 

"But an entire misapprehension exists as to the time, place, 
when, where, and what occurred. The 'race 'having served 
its turn as a subject for joking, the mistake may now be cor- 

" The battle of Solferino was on Friday, the 24th of June, 
1859 ; and the ' race ' was on the next day, from the village of 


Castiglione, after the fighting was all over, and the Austrians 
had retreated across the Mincio within their fortresses. 

" There were in our party at Solferino three Americans, Mr. 
Eaymond, ' Malakoff ' (Dr. W. E. Johnston), the accomplished 
Paris correspondent of the N. Y. Times, and the writer hereof. 

" Friday night, after the battle, our party were able, after 
considerable trouble, to find a small room in a little old tavern 
full of wounded officers, in the village of Castiglione, the near- 
est village to the battle-field in rear of the French lines, and as 
late as ten o'clock we all sat down about a small table with 
only a lighted candle upon it, to ' write up ' the battle of 

"Mr. Eaymond of" course held the pen, each one contribut- 
ing his observations of the incidents of the day, and the whole 
were engrossed and thrown into shape by Mr. Eaymond. He 
was after the latest news of the Italian campaign, and was 
doing his utmost to beat all contemporaries, by placing the 
news of the battle in New York at the first possible moment 
for his paper, the New York Times. He succeeded, and beat 
even the London Times ten days into New York. It was done in 
this way : The account of the battle was made up in six hours 
of constant work during the night, and at four o'clock in the 
morning of Saturday 'Malakoff' was sent back with our 
horses and carriage to the city of Brescia, twenty miles to the 
rear, with the despatches for the New York Times, to be 
placed on the Emperor's Express to Paris, which would leave 
Brescia that day, with the army despatches. 

" We had met the London Times' army correspondent on the 
field during the day, and several times during the night did 
Mr. Eaymond exclaim, 'If I can only beat "the Thunderer" 
into New York with this news, the Times is made.' 

" Mrs. Eaymond was then in Paris, and he knew that she 
could certainly be found at her hotel without loss of time. 
'Malakoff' was acquainted with many French officers, and 
could not he get one of the express messengers to go to her 
hotel immediately on his arrival at Paris, with a packet from 
her husband ? The plan succeeded. She felt all the interest 
of her husband in the enterprise, and, opening the packet, she 


found his directions to place the enclosure on the first and 
fastest steamer leaving either France or England for New 
York, at any expense of energy and money. 

" She was equal to the emergency, and in less than thirty 
hours thereafter she placed the despatches herself on board the 
steamer just leaving Liverpool for New York, and his success 
was complete ; for, although ' the Thunderer ' got the news by 
the same express, it did not get to press and to Liverpool in 
time for the steamer, and ten days must intervene before it 
oould reach New York. 

"Now for the 'race.' 

"'Malakoff' had gone to the rear with our horses and car- 
riage, and could not return probably before the next morning 
(Sunday) , and after a little rest and a poor apology for a break- 
fast, we hired a man to drive us out in a one-horse carriage 
over the field, for an inspection of the previous days' work. 

" Mr. Eaymond never took much rest if there was anything 
of interest to be seen or done, until after it was accomplished. 
He was even then — ten years ago — an overworked man, and 
I have since frequently noticed that his brain was too much for 
his physique. 

" We went out on the battle-field and saw what we could in 
five or six hours of travel and inspection. The day was very 
warm, and about two o'clock in the afternoon we returned to 
the village of Castaglione for some refreshments. Our driver 
turned in with his horse to the first place he found, and we two 
walked on further into the village by the main street, and came 
to a tavern wholly occupied by wounded soldiers, where, sit- 
ting down on the platform, we called for and obtained some 
bread and wine. 

" The village was filled with wounded men, — stragglers and 
prisoners taken from the Austrians, and they occupied every 
nook and corner'of the place. And as the military authorities 
and the army, except the guards, had gone on and encamped 
some six miles beyond, everything was loose and demoralized 
in the place, for want of command. 

" It was just at this moment, and before we bad finished our 
repast, that an alarm was heard coming down the street from 


the direction of the battle-field, and, increasing in its progress, 
developed into a full-fledged panic as it came to us, bearing 
along the narrow street crowds of all sorts of people, frantic 
with fear, and running for their lives, and exclaiming, 'The 
Austrians are coming to kill the wounded soldiers and liberate 
the prisoners.' 

" The whole population was on the run down the street to 
the opposite side of the Adllage, and out into the open coun- 

" Mr. Raymond and myself both joined that procession, and 
for the first mile kept up with the best of them, all making 
good time. 

"When outside of the village, we turned off from the mili- 
tary road, which was thronged, and took a country road lead- 
ing circuitously to the village of Monte Chiaro, five or six 
miles back on the same military road. 

" Being somewhat exhausted at the end of the first mile, and 
beginning to collect our wits, and venturing to look over our 
shoulders for the Austrians in pursuit, and seeing none, we 
'slowed down' into a walk, and made our way back into Monte 
Chiaro in about two hours, where we waited for the return of 
'Malakoff' from Brescia, and with whom the next morning 
(Sunday) , we returned to Castiglione, and so on to the battle- 
field again, to complete our inspection. 

" The panic arose among the teamsters in the trains moving 
on the road leading from Castiglione, through the battle-field, 
toward Mantua. 

" A small detachment of Austrian cavalry, which had been 
separated from its command on the day of the battle, and 
laid on the field over night, unable to make its way back into 
the Austrian lines, came up on to the road to surrender. 

"Their appearance frightened the teamsters, who imagined 
the Austrians had returned, and they turned right about and 
drove back at top speed to Castiglione, with the hue and cry, 
and thus inaugurated a panic which extended for twenty miles 
along the military road, and was not stayed until it reached 
the walls of Brescia. 

" ' The situation ' was this : The whole victorious French 


Army was between us and the Austrians ; and how foolish to 
be startled at such a cry at such a time, and to be borne along 
by such a crowd ! It is conceded that a panic is a senseless 
thing ; but we do not discover that till after it is all over. It 
takes us by surprise, and allows no time to reason. 

" Thus was the ' Race ' got up and run. Probably few pru- 
dent men could be found, who, under the circumstances, would 
have failed to take part in it. 

"It was at least a new sensation, and the recollection of it, 
although often the topic of raillery, has not been without its 
compensations in cementing a friendship of more than thirty 

" For it has since been our habit, annually, to commemorate 
in a social way, these two days, — the grandest in all my ex- 
perience, — to fight the battle of Solferino, and to run the race 
from Castiglione over again, year by year, until now — Death 
has taken my friend and companion in the race, and 'I only 
am escaped alone to tell the story.' Peace to his ashes I " 

Mr. William Henry Hurlbut was in charge of the foreign 
department of the Times while Mr. Raymond was absent from 
New York, and the latter was in no sense responsible for the 
comical article quoted below. 

The essay on the " Elbows of the Mincio " consisted of phrases 
which, though disjointed, were in every sense spirited. The 
space occupied was one column of the Times; the title, "The 
Defensive Square of Austrian Italy." Opening with a concise 
statement of the self-imprisonment of the Austrians within 
" their famous strategic square," the writer proceeded to show 
the strength of the Quadrilateral. There were in this part of 
the article some clever touches ; but the pause was sudden, and 
all that followed the introductory paragraphs was incoherent. 

An eflfort was made in the evening edition of the Times to 
correct the absurdities of the intoxicated paragraph. An 
explanatory note was published, reading as follows : — 


" We owe it to our readers to say that, by a confusion of manuscripts, set 
up at a very late hour last eveniug, our leading article on the Austrian de- 



fensive square in Italy was made utterly unintelligible. We have remedied 
the errors in this evening's edition of the Times."' 

But the evil had been done ; and to this day men laugh 
when they speak of this remarkable production. 

Inasmuch as the article in question is entitled to rank among 
the curiosities of literature,* and especially as it is a part of the 
history of the Times which is not likely to be forgotten, the 
Bacchic and the sober versions are here given in full : — 


The Morning Version. 

" When the Austrians were beaten, 
at Magenta, a sudden conviction 
seems to have seized upon their 
leaders, that if they could once put 
their forces in safety beyond the lines 
of the Chiese and the Mlncio, they 
would be able to make head against 
the courage and skill of France. The 
extraordinary speed with which the 
French troops were moved across the 
Alps to the succor of Turin and of 
the Piedmontese provinces seems to 
have paralyzed for a moment the 
energy of the Savoyards, and the 
skilful movements by which the Sar- 
dinian troops were brought into rela- 
tions with the village insurrections 
of the Lombard people combined to 
make the Austrian authorities under- 
stand the impossibility of holding 
their ground against a disorganized 
and revolutionary people. The Aus- 
trians, following up the strategic 
plans of Marshal Kadetsky in 1848, 
abandoned with an unwise haste 
their first lines of defence upon the 
Mincio, and threw themselves beyond 
the river, in the empty hope of beat- 
ing back the allied troops. 

"The result of this mad enterprise 
has been their complete imprison- 
ment within their famous strategic 


The Evening Version. 

"When the Austrians were beaten 
at Magenta, a sudden conviction 
seems to have seized upon their lead- 
ers, that if they could once put their 
forces in safety beyond the lines of 
the Chiese and the Mincio, they 
would be able to make head against 
the courage and the skill of France. 
The extraordinary speed with which 
the French troops were moved across 
the Alps to the succor of Turin and 
of the Piedmontese provinces seems 
to have paralyzed for a moment the 
energy of their generals, and the 
skilful movements bj' which the Sar- 
dinian troops were brought into rela- 
tions with the village insurrections 
of the Lombard people combined to 
make the Austrian authorities under- 
stand the impo.ssibility of holding 
their ground against a disorganized 
and revolutionary people. The Aus- 
trians retreated accordingly, follow- 
ing up the strategic plans of Mar- 
shal Eadetsky in 1848, but, after 
reaching their square, abandoned 
with an unwise haste their first lines 
of defence upon the Mincio, and 
threw themselves beyond the river, 
in the empty hope of beating back 
the allied troops. 

"The result of this mad enterprise 
has been their complete imprison- 

* Part of this chapter appeared in Packm-d's Monthly for December, 1869. 



" The square is closed to the north 
by the last spur of the Alps on the 
shores of the Lago di Garda ; to the 
west it is defended by the Mincio, 
which leaves the Lake of Garda at ' 
Peschiera, waters the plains of Man- 
tua, and joins the Po at fifteen 
leagues' distance from its springs at 
Governalo, after opening a real lake, 
on the banks of which lie the for- 
tresses of Mantua ; to the south the 
strategic square is defended by the 
line of the River Po, which flows 
beneath the walls of Cremona, and 
draws to itself all the torrents flow- 
ing from the Alps ; to the east the 
boundary of the Austrian defences is 
formed by the Adige, which descends 
from the mountains of Switzerland, 
and flows on a parallel line with the 
Po, after passing by Trent, Roveredo, 
Verona, and Legnago. The strength 
of a position so fortified by nature 
and by art does not need to be de- 
veloped. It borrows strategic im- 
portance from the numerous breaks 
of the ground, which — if we may be 
pardoned for the expression — seem 
but to have formed the successive 
steps in the natural defence of Aus- 
trian Italy. 

" But if nature has done much for 
the ' strategic square,' art has done 

"Austria has neglected nothing 
which might assure her dominion 
over the waters of the Danube. She 
has done all in her power to favor the 
development of Europe, lohick is the 
pacific development of England. She 
has dealt with edged tools — boldly, 
■but not, we feel sure, in utter vanity. 

"In 1848 Peschiera was captured 
by the Sardinians, under King Charles 
Albert; but there can be no doubt 
that the French bore away from the 
first fight of Magenta very question- 
able compliments. At this time the 
Sardinians, under the Duke of Genoa, 

ment within their famous strategic 

" The square is closed to the north 
by the last spur of the Alps on the 
shores of the Lago di Garda ; to the 
west it is defended by the Mincio, 
which leaves the Lake of Garda at 
Peschiera, waters the plains of Man- 
tua, and joins the Po at > fifteen 
leagues' distance from its springs at 
Governolo, after opening a real lake, 
on the banks of which lie the for- 
tresses of Mantua; to the south the 
strategic square is defended by the 
line of the River Po, which flows 
beneath the walls of Cremona, and 
draws to itself all the torrents flow- 
ing from the Alps ; to the east, the 
boundary of the Austrian defences 
is formed by the Adige, which de- 
scends from the mountains of Switz- 
erland, and flows on a parallel line 
with the Po, after passing by Trent, 
Roveredo, Verona, and Legnago. 
The strength of a position so forti- 
fied by nature and by art does not 
need to be developed. It borrows 
strategic importance from the numer- 
ous breaks of the ground, which — 
if we may be pardoned for the ex- 
pression — seem but to have formed 
the successive steps in the natural 
defence of Austrian Italy. 

" But, if nature has done much for 
the ' strategic square,' art has done 

" Austria has neglected nothing 
which might ensure communication 
with her dominions watered by the 
Danube. She has made a broad road 
in the direction of the Alps, to unite 
the regions of the Vorarlberg and the 
Tyrol with Lombardy by the pass of 
the Stelvio. This road passes thTough 
the Vatelline, runs around the Lake 
of Como, and ends at Bergamo. It 
may serve as well for the retreat of 
the beaten Austrians into the Tyrol, 
as for the advance of the victorious 



were ready to defend the famous 
Quadrilateral. To-day the Quadri- 
lateral has ceased to exist. 

" The fortress of Peschiera lies on an 
isle near the scene of the late conflict. 

" A broad road has been made by 
Austria, in the direction of the Alps, 
to unite the regions of the Vorarl- 
berg and the Tyrol with Lombardy, 
by the pass of the Stelvio. This road 
passes through the Vatelline, runs 
around the Lake of Como, and ends 
at Bergamo. It may serve as well 
for the retreat of the beaten Austri- 
ans into the Tyrol as for the advance 
of the victorious Austrians upon 
Italy. Two railways pass also by 
this central point of the Austrian 
position. One of these railways 
uuites Lombardy with Vienna, by 
circling around the crescent of the 
North Adriatic; the other, leaving 
Botzen, in the Tyrol, skirts the Lago 
di Garda, touches Trent, Eoveredo 
and Verona, and by a branch road 
reaches Mantua, and thus unites the 
two main angles of the famous 
square. The New York Herald, in 
giving yesterday a pretended map 
of this square, carefully omitted the ' 
bridge-head of Legnago, and thus 
converted the square into a triangle. 
The stre*ngth of Peschiera and Leg- 
nago is out of all proportion to the 
besieging force. The main merit of 
Peschiera is that this fortress lies on 
an island, and was captured by the 
Duke of Genoa in 1848. At this time 
the Sardinians crossed the Hincio 
after sevaral hours' hard fighting: 
and if xoa follow the windings of the 
Mincio, we shall find countless elbows 
formed in the elbows of the regular 
army, at places like Salianza, Molini, 
and Borghetto. These places make 
up the base of the allied army. The 
line of the Mincio is the base of the 
new campaign we are about to open. 

"Almost at the southern end of 

Austrians upon Italy. Two railways 
pass also by this central point of the 
Austrian position. One of these rail- 
ways unites Lombardy with Vienna, 
by circling around the crescent of the 
North Adriatic; the other, leaving 
Botzen in the Tyrol, skirts the Lago 
di Garda, touches Trent, Eoveredo, 
and Verona, and by a branch road 
reaches Mantua, and thus unites the 
■ two main angles of the famous 
square. The New York Herald, in 
giving yesterday a pretended map of 
this square, carefully omitted the 
bridge-head of Legnago, and thus 
converted the square into a triangle. 
The strength of Peschiera and Leg- 
nago is out of all proportion to that 
of Mantua and Verona; but both 
positions are important keys of the 

" The main merit of Peschiera, 
which lies on an island in the Mincio, 
is that it commands the sluices by 
which the body of that stream can be 
suddenly swollen from the lake. 

" The investment of Peschiera by 
the Sardinians, now complete, has 
destroyed the Quadrilateral for the 
time being. Nor for the first time. 
For Peschiera was taken by the Sar- 
,dinians, under tlie Duke of Genoa, in 
1848. At this time the Sardinians 
crossed the Mincio after several 
hours' hard fighting. If we follow tlie 
windings of this river, we shall find 
countless elbows formed in the right 
bank, favorable to the passage of 
troops, such as Salianza, Molini, and 
Borghetto. The allies probably 
passed at all these points, and are 
masters of the whole course of the' 
Mincio to Goito. The line of the 
Mincio is the base of the new cam- 
paign now about to open. 

" Almost at the southern end of the 
river Mincio lies the strong fortress 
of Mantua, the only Gibraltar of 
Austria in Italy guaranteed by the 



the Eiver Minoio lies the strong for- 
tress of Mantua, the only Gibraltar of 
Austria in Italy, guaranteed by the 
treaties of 1815. Mantua, as we 
have said, lies on a lake of the Eiver 
.Mincio. In spite of the labors spent 
upon it, Mantua still holds the next 
rank to Verona. It is a post of dan- 
ger for the army shut between its 
walls, rather than for the enemy 
without. After a battle of several 
hours' duration, the Sardinians, 'at 
Goito, gave way; and if we follow 
up the course of the Mincio, we shall 
find innumerable elbows formed by the 
sympathy of youth. Defended by 
Wurmser, in 1797, Austria surren- 
dered to Napoleon III. in 1859. Not- 
withstanding the toil spent by Aus- 
tria on the spot, we should haw 
learned that we are protected by a for- 
eign fleet suddenly coming up on our 
question of citizenship. A canal cuts 
Mantua in two ; but we may rely on the 
most cordial Cabinet Minister of the 
newpower in England. 

" Mantua is protected in the centre 
by five detached forts: the Citadel, 
Pradella, Castle of Faith, St. George, 
and Migliaretto, which commands Cre- 
mona, Borgo Forte, and Governolo. 

" A canal divides Mantua,and makes 
a small port in the lake, communicat- 
ing by five fortified roadways with 
the land. 

"At Eoverbello are machines for 
flooding the whole region, and in the 
upper lake fioats an Austrian squad- 
ron. The region between Mantua 
and the Po is impracticable for an 
army. 'Tis a marsh full of fevers. 
On this side the square seems impreg- 
nable. But how with the line from 
Mantua to Legnago? Legnago is no 
stronger than Peschiera, but it has 
the double advantage of a bridge 
over the Adige, and of dikes ready to 
inundate the whole Adriatic region. 
The fourth face of the square links 

treaties of 1815. Mantua, as we have 
said, lies on a lake of the Eiver Min- 
cio. In spite of the labors spent 
upon it, Mantua stiil holds the next 
rank to Verona. It is a post of dan- 
ger for the army shut between its 
walls, rather than for the enemy 

"A canal divides Mantua, and 
makes a small port in the lake, com- 
municating by five fortified road- 
ways with the land. 

"The place is protected in the 
centre by five detached forts : the 
Citadel, Pradella, Castle of Faith, St. 
George, and Migliaretto, which com- 
mands Cremona, Borgo Forte, and 

"At Eoverbello are machines for 
flooding the whole region, and in the 
upper lake floats an Austrian squad- 
ron. The region between Mantua 
and the Po is impracticable for an 
army. 'Tis a marsh tall of fevers. 
On this side the square seems im- 
pregnable. Legnago is no stronger 
than Peschiera, but it has the double 
advantage of a bridge over the Adige 
and of dikes ready to inundate the 
whole Adriatic region. T^iq fourth 
face of the square links Verona to 
Legnago. This is the best defensive 
line of Austria in Italy. At' Verona 
the last sweeps of the Alps fall about 
the river ; and seven fortresses on the 
crests of those hills command the 
whole region and all its approaches. 
Within and without, twenty several 
forts make this point the real heart 
of the Austrian dominion. But not 
only in the circle of its fortifications 
is Verona. strong. The Adige there ■ 
is swift and deep; it can only be 
passed at Cerpl and Bussoleogo in 
the face of a thousand perils. As 
Colonel Charojals, to whom we are 
indebted for the very best description 
of this great square, very truly says, 
the destiny of Austria must bjg ds- 


Verona to Legnago. This is the elded by a battle before Verona after 

best defensive Hue of Austria in the fall of Peschiera." 

Italy. At Verona the last features 

of the opposition lingered. The 

Adige is swift and deep at Verona; 

it can only be passed at Cerpi and 

Bussolengo in the face of a thousand 

perils. Paris is strong in her circle of 


Four distinct subjects were evidently in the mind of the 
writer when he sat down to pen this remarkable effusion. 
These subjects were the defensive square, the military strength 
of Austria, the new Cabinet forated in England, and the mass- 
ive fortifications with which Na{X)leon was then environing 
Paris. Unfortunately, although each of these topics was in 
itself interesting and important, they did not fuse well togeth- 
er, for the simple reason that champagne is not a chemical sol- 
vent. The defensive square ha,ppened to be in Italy, therefore 
"the most cordial Cabinet minister of England" had nothing 
whatever to do with it ; the fortifications of Paris, albeit of 
great value to France, had no necessary connection with "the 
canal which cut Mantua in two ; " and the meaning of the writ- 
er was so hopelessly obscured in the passage asserting 
" that we are protected by a foreign fleet suddenly coming up 
on our question of citizenship," that no seer could throw light 
upon it. 


In December, 1856, Mr. Eaymond received a challenge to 
inortal combat from the late Thomas Francis Meagher. He 
respectfully declined to be made a target for the indignant 
Meagher ; but the story of this affair is worth a page of record. 
It is well told in the following extracts from the columns of the 
Times : — 

From the Times of Becember 30, 1856. — EdUorial, 

" As a recent allusion in the Times to the circumstances under which Mr. 
T. F. Meagher made his escape from the penal imprisonment in Australia, to 
which he had been condemned for political oifences, has excited a very gen- 
eral public Interest in the matter, we republish this morning, from the Dub- 


lin Nation, the only detailed account of It, so far as we are aware, which has 
ever been given. It was written, it will be observed, by one of the parties 
by whom the arrangements for Meagher's escape were made, and who 
formed one of the 'body-guard' which attended upon him. It is likely, 
therefore, to be accurate, and quite as favorable for Mr. Meagher, as any 
statement of the affair which could be made. 

" It seems, from this account, that, previous to accepting his ' ticket of leave,' 
Mr. Meagher was in close custody of the police, and that upon receiving 
the ticket he was allowed freedom of movement within a certain district, 
and intercourse with his friends, upon giving his parole of honor that ' he 
would not attempt to leave the Colony.' This parole waS renewable every 
six months ; and Meagher's expired on the 3d of January. On that day he 
wrote to the magistrate of the district to which he was restricted, stating 
that it was not his intention to renew it, and inviting the police to come 
to'his house where he should remain, and arrest him. This letter, it is 
stated, was delivered to the magistrate at ten o'clock in the morning ; and 
at about ten o'clock at night the constable of the district, with two or three 
policemen, presented themselves at Meagher's house with the warrant for 
his arrest. Mr. Meagher, however, was not within. He was at a little dis- 
tance from the house consulting with some friends, who had collected for the 
purpose of preventing his arrest. Meagher's servant informed him that the 
police were in the house, whereupon Mr. Meagher mounted a ' noble steed 
which had been provided, and accompanied by his four guards,' one in ad- 
vance, one on his right, one on his left, and one in the rear, rode up to the 
police, and when about a dozen yards distant, -called out to the constable, 
declaring his name, and his intention of escaping, and informing that officer 
further that it was his duty to ' take him in0 custody if he could.' Having 
given this challenge, Mr. Meagher, surrounded by his guard, rode off unar- 
rested and unmolested by the police. And that was the manner of his escape. 

"The only account of the affair, as we have already stated, is given in the 
letter from which these facts are taken. If that be authentic, it shows con- 
clusively, in the first place, that friends were collected, horses procured, 
routes selected, and all the arrangements for escape made, under the protec- 
tion of the parole ; and that their execution was all that was postponed until 
after its surrender. How far this was consistent with the honorable engage- 
ment not to ' attempt to escape,' while holding the ticket of leave, we are not 
sufficiently skilled in the etiquette of such matters to decide. If these prepa- 
rations form any part of that ' attempt,' to that extent, it would seem, they 
must have been in violation of the pledge. 

" The letter shows, in the second place, that Mr. Meagher, upon withdraw- 
ing his parole and surrendering his ticket-of-leave, did not submit himself 
again to the custody of the police at all. He presented himself to them,. 
and called upon them to arrest him ; but this was accompanied by a declara- 
tion of his purpose not to allow himself to be. arrested, and under circum- 
stances which showed that he was prepared and able to resist an attempt at 
arrest, with prospects of success. Unless there was an obligation expressed 
or implied in the parole, that he would, upon surrendering it, place himself 
in statu quo, resume the position he held before accepting it, — there may 
have been in this proceeding no violation of his parole. If there was in it 
any such engagement, then it was manifestly and openly disregarded. 


" This seems to be the exact state of the case in regard to Mr. Meagher's 
evasion of his political imprisonment. We rejoiced in common with others 
at his deliverance from such a captivity, and have never been Inclined to crit- 
icise, with any undue severity, the manner in which it was accomplislied. 
Indeed, we have never, until reading, for the first time yesterday, the letter 
from the Nation, which we reprint this morning, been acquainted, from any 
other source than vague rumor, with its details. We recur to the matter 
now, only because it lias become, by Mr. Meagher's own act, a subject of 
fresh interest, and one upon which he apparently invites the scrutiny and 
judgment of the public." 

From the Times of December 6, 1856. 

" We have received a note from Mr. T. F. Meagher, Inquiring whether, by 
an expression used in a recent paragraph in the Times, "we intended to charge 
that he had, at any time, ' broken his parole.' Certainly not. We did not 
suppose that the language used conveyed any such meaning; or, indeed, ex- 
pressed any opinion upon that point. Although the paragraph in which it 
occurred was written under the provocation of a very offensive personal 
article, in Mr. Meagher's Irish News, it was not intended to tran.scend the or- 
dinary limits and proprieties of newspaper controversy, or to cast any re- 
proach upon the personal character of Mr. Meagher." 


. To the Bohemian mind, all labor seems fit for slaves. There 
should be gentlemanly leisure for those whom the gods endow 
with wit ; nectar and ambrosia are their proper food ; silken 
raiment and luxurious repose their right. So thinking, the 
old Bohemians in New York, who clung to their quasi connec- 
tions with the newspapers, — the race has almost disappeared, 
— worked for a living only when their stomachs cried cup- 
board, or when long-suffering landladies became indignant or 
offensively personal. Mrs. Eaddles has sent the Bohemian on 
many expeditions, when he would have remained supine but for 
the confiscation of the tumblers, and the stoppage of the hot 

The general uncertainty which characterized the Bohemians' 
e'fforts merged into sornething closely resembling dishonesty — 
for they were not particular as to the manner of supplying 
pressing want. Having a happy knack of turning their facul- 
ties to account, their busy brains readily devised some ingen- 
ious plan for replenishing an exhausted exchequer, or for restor- 


ing a fading credit. A plan was no sooner conceived than it 
was put in execution, and the result was usually satisfactoiy to 
the inventor, however disagreeable it might have appeared to 
the victim. 

An illustration of this Bohemian trickery was given, several 
years ago, in the office of the New York Times. One of the 
brightest, best-read, and most reckless of the Bohemians of 
the city, suddenly nipped by evil fortune, secluded himself for 
a day from the gaze of his fellows, and then appeared in the 
editorial room with a roll of manuscript. It was a Carrier's 
Address in verse, intended for the first of January, admirably 
written, full of local hits, crackling with fun. It was gladly 
accepted. " Could you let me have forty dollars ? " asked the 
poet. In violation of a rule in force in newspaper offices, 
which prohibits prepayment for literary contributions, the 
money was given, and in the evening there was high revel at 
Pfaffs, — an underground saloon on Broadway much frequented 
by the Bohemians of the day. The New Year arrived ; and 
the Times Carriers' Address was 'widely distributed and gen- 
erally read. It was a creditable literary performance, — in 
fact, far superior to the average character of these annual in- 
flictions. But a stray copy was found by a reader of the Times 
in a western town ; and this person, struck by lines in the 
poem which seemed familiar, made some investigations. It 
then appeared that the dishonest poet had "adopted" an old 
Address, changing the order of the verses, adding bits of local 
color, interjecting a few allusions to the principal events of 
the year, and then successfully passing it off as an original 
. production. 


In an earlier chapter, some account has been given of the 
personalities of New York Journalism. While the habit of 
■calling hard names has been partly mended by the general 
elevation of the tone of newspaper writing,' there are still too 
many proofs of its existence. One such illustration, of the 
year 1861, is part of the incidental history of the Times. 
Although Mr. Kaymond had announced the principle that per- 


soual attacks should never appear in the columns of his paper, 
he finally reached a point where he thought forbearance had 
ceased to be a virtue, — and he made the mistake of caricaturing 

On the 11th of December, 1861, two caricature pictures of 
James Gordon Bennett appeared on the first page of the Times, 
One of these pictures represented Benhett, in Scotch costume, 
and with two little horns budding from his head, busily em- 
ployed in inflating a wind-bag labelled " Herald." Below it 
the following words were printed, in large letters, stretching 
across two columns of the paper. 


From the Herald, Nov. 2. 

"Whether the Tribune or the Times has the larger circulation, we are unable 
to decide. According to recent accounts, they both of them distribute some- 
where between twenty-flve and thirty thousand daily. 

" Of this we are not certain, but concerning the Herald, there can be no 
doubt. Its daily sale of papers averages from one hundred and five thou- 
sand to one hundred and thirty-flve thousand. 

From the Herald, Nov. 3. 
"It remains doubtful whether the Times or TribunewiW be discovered to be 
ahead, but in no case will it appear that both of them together have one-half 
as many subscribers as the Herald, which sells from one hundred and five 
thousand to one hundred and thirty-flve thousand of Its daily issue." 

From the Herald, Thursday, Nov. 7. 
" We have attained a daily issue as high as one hundred and thirty-five thou- 
sand. Next to the Herald comes the Tribune and the Times, but far in the 
rear, for we presume that neither the Times nor the Tribun.e can boast of an 
average beyond twenty-five thousand dailies." 

From the Herald, Saturday, Nov. 9. ■ 

" In regard to our circulation, we did not say that it was one hundred and 
thirty-five thousand every day ; but that it exceeded one hundred thousand 
every day." 


$2,500 that the Herald's daily issue is not . . . 135,000 

2,600 that it is not 105,000 

2,500 that it is not 100.000 

2,500 that It is not 75,000 

2,500 that the Times' average daily issue is over . 25,000 


2,600 that it is over 30,000 

2,500 that it is over 40,000 

2,500 that it is over 60,000 

2,500 that it is over 75,000" 

[The conditions of this wager were that one-half the whole amount should 

be forthwith deposited in bank, and that the whole sum should be handed 

over by the winner to the families of volunteer soldiers.*] 

The second part pictured Bennett in a recumbent posture, 
exhausted and dying ; pins inserted into the bag had punctured 
it so badly that the wind had all escaped; and below were 
these words : — 


From the Herald, Dec. 5. 
" Betting, even when fair, is against our religion, and we cannot consent to 
let him have the information he seeks in that way." 

From the Herald, Dec. 7. 
" Mr. Mephistophiles Greeley and that little villain Raymond are greatly 
moved upon the subject of the relative circulation of the Herald and their 
own petty papers, and are affected to tears about the matter. We are sorry 
for them ; but their attempts to inveigle us into a silly bet are absolutely 
in vain. The practice of betting is immoral. We cannot approve of it. It 
may suit Greeley and Raymond, who have exhibited very little morality in the 
conduct of their journals, but it will not do for us." 

This was undignified, but funny, — for the caricatures were 
designed with spirit, and the rebuke to the Herald was very 
well deserved. Nevertheless it was an absurd act of the pro- 
prietors of the Times to indulge in a performance suited only 
to the pages of some low comic weekly. Raymond himself 
was afterwards ashamed of it. It resulted in no service to 
the Times, and it did not injure the Herald; for no mau gains 
by abusing his neighbor ; and he who is abused inevitably re- 
ceives a certain degree of sympathy. Fair ridicule is some- 
times justifiable ; but objurgation defeats its own end. 

This incident is cited as a fragment of the history of the 
Times. That journal has so seldom published illustrations, 
that it is interesting to know the reasons why its conductors 
first violated their own rule. 

* This was in the first year of the Ciril War. 



In August, 1858, the city of New York had one of its great 
periodical excitements. The occasion was the successful laud- 
ing of the first Atlantic Telegraph Cable, The United States 
frigate Niagara, under command of Captain Hudson, having 
finished her part of that undertaking, arrived in the harbor of 
New York on the 18th of August, and the vessel and all that 
belonged to her at once became transfisjured before the vision 
of the excitable populace. The best illustration of the intense 
fever of the moment is to be found in the columns of the 
Times of the following day. " The Niagara," said the Times, 
" moved slowly up the East Eiver to the place where she now 
lies, opposite the Navy Yard. Her progress was a magnifi- 
cent ovation. The piers on either side, the rigging of the 
vessels at anchor, the tops and windows of the houses, were 
alive with spectators, whose joyous huzzas swept over the wa- 
ter like distant music. The ferry-boats, crammed with passen- 
gers, many of whom were obliged to mount the upper decks, 
diverged from their respective courses, circumvented the 
majestic ship as she moved lazily against the ebbing tide, and 
saluted her by dipping their colors, — the people cheering all 
the time as if they were going mad. Every passing craft, from 
the mud-scow to the emigrant-ship, contributed its quota of 
admiring applause. As the night fell, the buildings facing the 
river were, here and there, illuminated, shining like big pieces 
cut out of the starlit sky, and set up on end. By and by a 
rocket would appear, darting up through the air, and bursting 
into a shower of blazing spray, whose reflection played over 
the rippling water as if of a shattered moonbeam. But these 
displays paled their iuefiectual fires before that which Heaven 
provided. The lightning, which Franklin caught and Morse 
taught, burst out, and glowed and frolicked from behind the 
black clouds that rose pile on pile in the west, as if it were 
conscious of the new conquest in which it was to play so essen- 
tial a part, and in achieving which the Niagara had rendered 
so important service. But at length the Niagara arrived at 
her anchorage ground, and was fastened to a buoy. She was 


immediately surrounded by small boats, which came from the 
shore in flocks. Everything on board was bustle and confu- 
sion. The officers and crew, delighted with the prospect of so 
pleasant a termination to so arduous and tedious an absence, 
ran hither and thither in all the flurry excited by the prospect 
of approaching relaxation. Yet all was order. The discipline 
of the vessel was never for a moment disregarded." 

Two days previously, the telegraphic announcement of the 
interchange of Cable messages between Queen Victoria and 
President Buchanan had been received with shouts of joy, and 
the Times printed it under a heading which occupied the space 
of half a column, reading as follows : — 

" The Ocean Telegraph. 
Victory at Last ! 
The First Message. 
England Greets America. 
Queen Victoria 
To " 
President Buchanan. 
The President's Eeply. 
Triumphant Completion 
of the 
Great Work of the Century. 
The Old World and the New United. 
Gloria in Excelsis ! " 

The world grows prosaic. In the eleven years that have 
since run by, the laying of deep-sea cables has become a com- 
mon aflFair ; and all of us now read, without an emotion of 
surprise, the news of what the Old World did one hour ago. 
The only marvel is, that such speed was not made in our 
fathers' time. 


The spirit of newspaper enterprise which led the owners of 
the London Times to send Mr. "William H. Eussell to this 
country to observe the progress of the Civil War in 1861, was 
also operative in a similar direction among the conductors of 
American journals. In the early days of the war, the London 


Times was regarded as an authority on all subjects ; and its 
special corresjDondent was received, as soon as he had landed, 
with much courtesy, and abundant ofl'ers of assistance. Mr. 
Russell, however, came here to prepare wares for a Tory and 
Secessionist market, and he spiced his letters with condiments 
that were too hot for the average American palate. For a 
time, his letters were regularly copied into the New York 
papers, and from the latter into a majority of the local journals 
in all parts of the United States ; but when Kussell began to 
tell fibs, and the London Times to praise the Secessionists con- 
tinually, the practice of copying fell off, and the London Times 
and its correspondent simultaneously became offensive. 

Meanwhile, the " war correspondents " who had been sent 
out to the battle-fields to represent the newspapers of New 
York throve and grew famous. They were true, loyal men , 
shrewd observers, who saw the events of the time with 
clear vision ; who had been drilled in newspaper harness until 
they had become diligent and intelligent workers. Knowing 
exactly what was wanted, they furnished the earliest intelli- 
gence, often outstripping the couriers of the army, and giving 
the government itself tidings of great successes, or of greater 
defeats, hours or days before the reports of the officers in com- 
mand had reached the head-quarters at Washington.* Often ■ 

* The extreme enterprise of some of the war correspondentg often led them 
into indiscretions. The following curious letter from General Butler, written 
in 1864, possesses a sort of historical interest from its bearing upon such 
cases : — 

"Head-quarters DEPARTMEisfT Virginia and^ 

North Carolina, in the Field, V 

Sept. 25, 1864. ) 

" To Newspaper Correspondents connected, icith the Army of the James, and in 
the Department of Virginia and North Carolina. 

" Gentlemen : — I need not say to you, probably, that I have never inter- 
fered with the quantity, kind, or quality of your communications in regard 
to the movements of the Army of the James, or in this Department. I have 
stated to some of you that I desired that you should speak only of acts done, 
and to say nothing of movements when in preparation or while in progress. 
Forty-eight (48) hours, at the farthest, brings to the enemy in printed form as 
well the speculations and prognostications of events about to happen, in 
which you may indulge, as the facts that have already happened which you 


they encountered serious perils, and at different times some of 
them were captured by the enemy; but their courage was 
proof against all disaster, and the volumes in which they have 
since recorded their observations and adventures are valuable 
contributions to the history of the great conflict. 


The newspaper reporters form a singular class, whose pecu- 
liarities would furnish abundant material for a separate volume. 
One or two anecdotes concerning them are all for which space 
can here be given. 

In the Times' office, twelve or thirteen years ago, there was 
the strongest force of reporters ever gathered together in the 
service of any single newspaper in New York. Carey, Under- 

" From my knowledge of you and each of you, so far as you are known to 
me, I believe all sincerely loyal and patriotic, and that either of you would 
not willingly do anything which would aid the enemy ; and yet unwittingly I 
have thought that you do so. • 

" Now, then, I desire that in any correspondence from this Department 
there shall be no prognostications, no assertions that yon could give news 
if it were not contraband ; no predictions that movements are about to be 
made that will surprise the enemy or anybody else. Indeed, gentlemen, al- 
low me to commend to you, as a rule of action, the advice of Hamlet to his 
friend Horatio, when he desired to keep secret his acts and intentions : — 

** * That you, at such times seeing me, never shall, 
With arms encumbered thus, or this head shake, 
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase, 
As, Wellj well we Icrww — 
Or, We could an^ if we would ; — 
OTj If we list to speak ; or, TJiere he an* if they might t 
Or some such ambiguous giving out, its note, 
That you know aught of me ; 
This do you swear.' 

" After any movement has been made and completed, then you can give 
such account of it, and of the otBcers and men engaged In it, as your good 
judgment and good taste may dictate ; and for that purpose every facility of 
public or official documents in my possession will be put at yout disposal. 

" A word further of caution, and I hope I shall not have troubled you in 
vain. Descriptions of the movements of officers of high rank frequently 
give the enemy a clue that some movement is in progress, which a reason- 
able amount of sagacity will enable them to discover. 

"I have the honor to be, gentlemen, very respectfully, your obedient 
servant, "Benj. F. Butler, 

" Major-General Comd'g." 


hill, Roberts, Warburton, WeldiBH, Canniff, Leech, Moylan, 
Smith, Eoberts, Pepper, and half a dozen more, who belongea 
to the corps, were all excellent reporters. Roberts, Welden, 
and Canniff are dead ; Carey and "Warburton are now law- 
court reporters in New York, making their stenographit 
acquirements profitable ; Smith has returned to England ; the 
remainder are scattered. "William H. Canniff was so complete 
a type of the pushing, energetic reporter, that one anecdote of 
his performances may properly be told, as a practical illustra- 
tion of the manner in which news is obtained by the force of 
brazen impudence. 

"When the steamer Henry Clay was burned on the Hudson 
River, Canniff was sent to gather the particulars of the acci- 
dent, and was especially charged to bring a full list of the 
names of the killed and wounded. He did so ; but he exulted 
over his own skill in this fashion : — 

"Do you see that name?" he inquired of the City Editor. — 
"Yes." — " Well, that name gave«me more trouble than all the 
rest. The man was lying on the shore, nearly dead. His 
wife was with him, and uninjured. I tried to get the man to 
talk, but he couldn't. Then I asked his wife for his name and 
address ; and I got them." This proved to be a fact. That 
the agonized wife was plunged into the deepest sorrow by the 
mortal injury of her husband was no affair to concern the 
reporter. He was in quest of news ; and no consideration 
found place in his mind, except that of getting the earliest and 
the fullest story. This is a hardening process, but ji useful 
one. It is the way in which early tidings are obtained ; and 
the ordinary newspaper reader would have to go behind the 
scenes to discover the curious methods of filling the columns 
which he reads with intense interest. Many such anecdotes 
as the one given might be related. 

The class of reporters commonly known as the Jenkinses of 
the Press are a distinct collection ; men gifted with vivid im- 
aginations and possessed of a fluent style. The Tribune's 
account of the burning of Barnum's Museum, which was copied 
into nearly all the papers in the Union, was one of the best 
Bpecimens of the peculiar kind of work performed by these 



men. They have a faculty of spinning endless stories on. ex- 
ceedingly small foundations of fact; and this tendency was 
lately ridiculed in a clever fashion in the columns of the very 
journal which gave place to the Baruum romance. It is 
copied below, as a specimen which explains itself : — 


The news in plain English. 
About eleven o'clock ou Friday 
night a storm of xvind and rain set 

The news after the Dummy-and-Dilution 
paper had fixedit up. 

HOW jupiteh pltjvius descended 


The Storm which beat down upon 
_ the city on Friday night was one of 
the severest tempests of wind and 
rain with which New York lias been 
visited for many years. The first 
manifestation made by the i-ain had a 
FEROCITY about it which prognos- 
ticated business on the part of Jupiter 
Shortly after eleven o'clock the 
aqueous drops began to come down. 
At first they were quite undemon- 
strative, but ere many minutes had 
elapsed they had SWELLED them- 

The wind being south-east, the tide 
in the harbor rose about six feet 
higher than usual. 

EflTect of rain ou Poverty — Wash- 
ing — Swamping — Fear — Flood — 
Inundation — " OCEANIC DEMON, 
with no desire in his heart save one 
which sought to cause a general 
drowning of every human crea- 
ture ! ! " [And about one-fourth col- 
umn more of the same sort.] 


One or two cellars on West Street Tidal Waters — Utter Confusion — 
•were flooded to the depth of four or Philanthropist — Benevolent tears — 
five inches. Waters rush down cellar with ter- 

rific force. [About half a column.] 

Total length of the news 10 lines. 

Total length of the Dummy-and-Dilution story, ... 1 column." 

Mr. George William Curtis has recently taken up the fight 
against the Jenkins class ; * and his rebuke is worthy of circu- 
lation and preservation. He writes : — 

" At last we have the Magnum Opus of Mr. Jenkins, and we ought to be con- 
tent. The chief domestic event of the month, from the Easy-Chair's point of 
view, was the arrival of Father Hyacinthe, whom, in a few airy and prelusive 
touches at the head of his work, Mr. Jenkins calls the ' Preacher Monk,' 
' The Great Carmelite Friar.' Mr. Jenkins brings to his task not only his 
peculiar and renowned natural gifts, but certain official advantages. For Mr. 
Jenkins was the Committee of Reception, and with his customary shrewdness 
he resolved to get the start of all other historians by beginning a little before 
the beginning. He therefore opened his narration upon shipboard. But at 
the very outset a remarkably vicious word for his purpose obtruded itself 
into his story, and imperilled the success of his labors. ' The evening,' says 
Mr. Herodotus Jenkins, ' was so delicious, the scene around me so calm and 
grand, I fell into a reverie which was now and then disturbed by the whis- 
tling of the wind through the rigging. I heard a step behind, and, looking 
round, saw a low-sized, thick-set man, with a head like an inverted pumpkin, 
in dark clothes, approaching the taffrail, with his head burled in his breast, 
and a pair of bright, black eyes shining and sparkling like diamonds.' 

"It certainly shows great daring and conscious power to introduce your 
hero as low-sized and thick-set, with a head like an inverted pumpkin. But 
still more striking is Mr. Jenkins's bold confidence in a comma ; for if that 
little punctuating point had failed to come in at the precise place, we sliould 
have had ' the preacher monk' presented to us as a figure ' with a head like an 
inverted pumpkin in dark clothes ; ' and nothing but the experienced skill of 
a Jenkins could have carried such a description to a grave conclusion. The 
low-sized man leans over the taffrail beside Mr. Jenkins, who, although he 
has minutely described the stranger's appearance, now remarks, ' I did not 
take any notice of the stranger at first.' But a voice in ' full, melodious 
French ' is suddenly heard, whose ' liquidity ' and other vocal virtues now has 
the effect upon Mr. Jenkins's mind of the strawberry mark upon the left arm 
of a long-lost brother. There Is a ' flash of recollection ' by which this 
' grand voice ' is seen to have been heard before. The ' inverted pumpkin ' 
bent toward Mr. Jenkins ' with marked courtesy.' Also, the stranger, with 
a ' courteous gesture,' pointed to ' the brilliant sky above us,' and then said to 
the excellent Jenkins, ' My son, this night is a beautiful one, and worthy of 
the great and eternal attributes of God's majesty.' There could be no longer 

* The Easy Chair of JTajjic r's Magazine, December, 1869. 


any doubt even in the severely jndicious mind of a Jenkins ; and ' This, then, 
was Charles Loyson Hyacinthe, the wondrous Carmelite monk preacher.' 

" When Mr. Jenkins heard him preach In the Madeleine in Paris five years 
before, he had seen him in ' frock, cowl, and sandalled shoon.' But now he 
beheld ' a gentlemanly little person [with an inverted pumpkin head pas- 
sim], in the black clothing of an ordinary American Roman Catholic eccle- 
siastic, wearing the most unmistakable French kid boots, and a modern hat of 
fashionable construction.' This gentleman immediately proceeded to remark 
to Mr. Jenkins that ' The Gothic structure, with its groined roof and fret- 
work, its mural tablets and magnificent archways, may be forgotten after the 
vision has left them; but here the span of sky, and the deep, deep ocean 
beneath, silently flowing on and ever, like the stream of eternity, can alone 
palsy the thoughts of an unbeliever and silence the reckless jests of the 
hardened scoffer. My son, think of these things; look not so lightly upon 
Father Ocean ; ponder and meditate ; for our life is but a journey from Paris 
to Brussels ; the terminus is reached ; the passengers deposited at their rest- 
ing-place, and then all is darkness and agony and bewilderment for those 
who have dreamed on their brief life-journey that the great All-Giver and 
Father of Mercies was but an accident of chance, a being to analyze and doubt 
of, as Voltaire did to his eternal destruction.' He stopped. ' I looked 
around,' remarks Mr. Jenkins, ' and I saw the form of the great preacher 
descending the companion-way into the saloon.' 

" It is evident that, as hearing the ' liquidity ' of the voice recalled the 
Madeleine to Mr. Jenkins, so the spectacle of that gentleman recalled the 
church so vividly to the Father that he immediately began to preach. Is this 
indeed the kind of familiar evening chat over the tafi'rail that gentlemen hear 
who go down to the sea in ships ? Is this a specimen of the colloquy of the 
good Carmelite ? Or must we say, in the words of a most worthy gentleman 
with a sad impediment in his speech, that ' Mura-Mum-Mum-Macaulay was a 
goo-goo-goo-good writer,' but that Macaulay must pale his Ineffectual fires 
before Herodotus Jenkins? 

"An Easy Chair, of course, can only wonder at the historian, even as the 
historian wondered at the wondrous monk. His report belongs to the more 
fervid parts of the literature of travel; and it is certainly very much more 
entertaining than many of the most popular novels of the moment. Its title 
should apparently be The Man Who Preaches. And if, as the reader peruses 
the report, he must needs fancy the modest clergyman, who is the hero, 
shrinking and wincing from such a glowing portraiture, yet he must remem- 
ber that, as a Carmelite, he is devoted to self-renunciation and sacrifice. 
We have had a moonlight glimpse of the hero leaning over the taffrail and 
preaching a short sermon. Let us observe him as Mr. Jenkins describes him 
in a moment of silence : ' The figure of the Father was often noticeable on 
deck, studying his breviary between meals, and promenading on the smooth, 
polished, wooden surface. Father Hyacinthe had some qualms of sea-sick- 
ness, but he managed to overcome them after the first two days of the pas- 
sage out from Brest.' 

" Mr. Jenkins had plainly resolved that this history should be, as we have 
called it, his great work, — even surpassing his account of Mrs. Flummy's 
recherche croquet matinee, or Mrs. Dummy's last select and aristocratic caudle 


dansante. Evidently he took prodigious pains that his hero should be pre- 
sented to the American world in a manner that should leave nothing to be 
said, and very little to be surmised. 'At the dining-table,' — continues this 
most veracious and charming of chroniclers, — ' at the dining-table the 
great preacher ate sparingly of the plainest dishes, and seemed quite fond 
of celery and pickled onions ; underdone roast beef and boiled mutton he 
also seemed to relish, and the dessert of raisins and other fruits was rel- 
ished by him. He drank sherry in small quantities, and occasionally a glass 
of Medoc table-claret. A light breakfast of white hot French rolls and a cup 
of coffee served for his breakfast, and his lunch was nothing but a little soup 
and boiled potato.' Could an enlightened curiosity demand more? Alas! 
yes; for there are spots upon the sun. He relishes underdone beef and 
pickled onions. But does he take mustard with the former, and does he 
wipe his mouth with a napkin after the latter? Alas! Alps on Alps arise! 
If a napkin, does he handle it with both hands, and draw it from side to side 
of his mouth, as is the custom of his country, or does he mop the lips 
merely? And if he mops merely, does he use both hands, or one only? And 
if one, which one? And if the right one, does his little finger stick out 
ornamentally, or does it assist in grasping the linen? And is it real linen? 
Or cotton and linen mixed? And how often are the napkins changed? And 
are they carefully washed? And who does the washing? And how much is 
she paid a dozen? And is she married? And how many children has she? 
And are they going to take in washing too? Herodotus Jenkins, like 
•Macaulay, is a goo-goo-good writer, but there are some things that even he 
has omitted. 

"By an easy and natural transition the historian passes from pickled 
onions to the occasion of the Father's departure from his convent, and 
quotes the letter of one of his warm personal friends. ' I give it just as I 
saw it in manuscript,' characteristically says the author. By and by the 
voyage is ended, and the hubbub of arrival follows, and then the hero of the 
magnum opus ' came on the dock, unobtrusively dressed in a plain black suit,' 
with a broad felt hat.' He is described as passing rapidly to a carriage, and 
the scene then shifts to the hotel at which he is to lodge. The hall of the 
Fifth Avenue Hotel at four o'clock in the afternoon is graphically portrayed. 
'The grand hall on the first floor is but thinly populated, and presents a 
scene far less inspiriting than that which strikes the eye after the shades of 
night have come down, and the lamps of Madison Square shed their genial 
light across Broadway,' Suddenly, at this hour, 'the gentlemanly clerks 
behind the hotel-desk' are taken by surprise. A carriage rumbles. It stops. 
What of It? It often happens. 'Tis at the side door. What then? What 
then, unconscious gentlemanly clerks ? Why, in that carriage there is a seat, 
and upon that seat there is a man with French kid boots and an inverted 
pumpkin head, in dark clothes ; and that man upon that seat is the wondrous 
Carmelite monk preacher. Hist ! he comes. ' Although considerably fatigued 
by the voyage, the Rev. Father stepped up to the desk, and with a hand that 
did not tremble in the least enrolled on the register the name Fr. Hyacinthe. 
As soon as he had done this little piece of chirography, a number of gentle- 
men,' etc. But the enrolling and chirographical Father escaped the civilities 
of ' a number of gentlemen,' and was ' conducted upstairs to the apartments 


that he will occupy during his sojourn in this city.' Other people may write 
their names and go to their rooms, but not those whom Mr. Jenkins attends. 
Mere mortals also upon the pages of other historians may wash their hands 
and faces. But the heroes of Jenliins are guilty of nothing, monosyllabic. 
' Father Hyacinthe, like all good Christians, had no sooner entered the room 
than he paid his respects to the apparatus that is devoted to ablutionary 
purposes. He turned on the Croton, and was in the middle of a thorough 
wash when an invitation was received for him to come down to dinner.' 
Whether the annalist observed these historical events from under the bed or 
through the keyhole he does not record ; and, by a singular lapse of the sense 
of the fitness and symmetry of things, he does not even relate, O Muse ! the 
wiping of the hands and face, nor stay to tell the number of the towels, nor 
whether they were fringed, or bordered in colors ; nor their probable cost ; 
nor whether a liberal discount was allowed for their being taken by the 
quantity; nor, indeed, any of those details which an intelligent reader intent 
upon the great religious protest of the Carmelite Father has a moral right to 
know. But before we lose sight of the hero, we hear, as it were, a reflected 
strain of the orator. 'The distinguished guest, although suffering from 
fatigue, praised the dinner very highly, and with that peculiar eloquence 
which is decidedly his own (and which I, Herodotus Jenkins, so well remem- 
ber in the Madeleine Church in Paris), bestowed many compliments on the 
style ofeuliine, which it was his pleasure to experience so soon after landing 
on the shores of the ' land of the free and the home of the brave.' 

" What Dr. Johnson would have thought of BoswelVs story of him we 
shall never know ; but the good Father Hyacinthe was said, and doubtless 
with truth, to have been aghast when he saw his portrait by Jenkins. It 
may be supposed to have suggested to him that for a conspicuous man the 
United States are a whispering gallery walled with mirrors. Every motion 
is multiplied infinitely, and every word echoes and re-echoes without end. 
Mr. Jenkins, indeed, has, as he will doubtless be glad to hear, ' a great mis- 
sion to perform,' not unlike that of the skull of the old feasts. ' Remember 
your mortality,' is said to the revellers. ' Mind your eye, and your tongue, 
and your pen,' says Herodotus Jenkins to every distinguished visitor and 
lion. If Father Hyacinthe makes any serious blunder while he remains in 
this country, it will certainly not be the fault of the historian. If he does 
not weigh every word and guard every look, it will not be because he does 
not know that he is minutely studied through a thousand lorgnettes. Mean- 
while, as Mr. Jenkins is of a genial and humane temper, whose purpose is to 
please his fellow-creatures, he ought to be satisfied with the reflection that 
while Thucydides, and Sallust, and Gibbon, and Grote, and Macaulay, and 
Motley may be read through without a single smile, it is impossible to read 
Herodotus Jenkins without peals of laughter at every line. ' Small service is 
true service while it lasts.' Grimaldl, also, was a benefactor." 


One curiosity of Journalism should perhaps find place here. 
It illustrates the other extreme, — the extreme which not only 


prohibits the employment of the Jenkins reporter, but estab- 
lishes the law that no phrase remotely savoring of slang shall 
ever appear in a newspaper article. 

In the office of the New York Evening Post there is an 
"Index Expurgatorius," to which every assistant editor and 
reporter engaged in the service of that paper is bound to pay 
respect. It contains a catalogue of words that are never to be 
used ; and among the number are several phrases which came 
up in the late War, and were generally adopted by the news- 
papers. The whole list reads as follows, the head-lines being 
the work of wags in the office : — 



' No more of that, Hal, an' thou lorest me." 

" Friend after friend departs ; — 
Wlio hath not lost a friend?" 

" Though lost to sight, to memory dear." 

[The words in the subjoined list are ignominiously expelled from good society. 1 

1. Aspirant. 17. "Hon." 

2. Authoress. 18. Inaugurated, 

3. " Being " done, built, etc. (for " begun.") 

4. Bogus. 19- Initiated, 

5. Bagging, (for " begun.") 

(for " capturing.") 20. In our midst. 

6. Balance, 21. Ignore. 

(for " remainder.") 22. Jeopardize. 

7. Collided. 23. Juvenile,- 

8. Commenced, (for " boy.") 

(for " begun.") 24. Jubilant, 

9. Couple, (for "r^oicing.") 

(for "two.") 25. Lady, 

10. D6but. " (for " wife.") 

11. Donate and Donation. 26. Lengthy. 

12. Employee. 27. Loafer. 

13. " Esq." 28. Loan, or loaned, 

14. Endorse, (for "lend "or "lent.") 

(for " approve.") 29. Located. 

16. Gents, 30. Measurably, 

(for " gentlemen.") (for " in a measure.") 

16. Humbug. 31. Ovation. 



32. Obituary, 

(for " death") 

33. Parties, 

(for " persons.") 
84. Posted, 

(for " informed.") 

35. Poetess. 

36. Portion,- 

(for "part.") 

37. Predicate. 

38. Progressing. 

39. Pants, 

(for " pantaloons.") 

40. Quite, 

(prefixed to " good," " large," etc.) 

41. Realized, 

(for " obtained.") 

42. Eeliable, 

(for " trustworthy-.") 

43. Repudiate, 

(for " reject," or " disown.") 

44. Retire, 

(for " withdraw.") 

46. R61e, 

(for " part.") 

46. Rowdies. 

47. Roughs. 

48. Secesh. 

49. States, 

(for "says.") 

50. Taboo. 

51. Transpire, 

(for " ocoor,") 

62. To progress. 

63. Tapis. 
54. Talented. 

65. The deceased. 

66. Vicinity, 

(for " neighborhood."] 

67. Wall Street slang generally : 

("bolls, bears, long, short, flat, 
corner, tight," etc.) 





The Bores require a classification more in detail than could 
have been properly given in the preceding chapter of " Anec- 
dotes and Incidents." 

There is no living newspaper man who has not been com- 
pelled to endure the inflictions of a bore. The variety is 
large, but the courage and vitality of the race are visible 
throughout. Byron was not wrong when he wrote : — 

" Society is now one polished horde. 
Formed of two mighty tribes, the bores and bored." 

Poetical bores are male and female, and it is difficult to decide 
which sex is the more persistent, or the greater nuisance. It is 
true that the snubbing of a man by a man is comparatively an 
easy task ; but what man can snub a woman and retain his 
self-respect ? The manner of appi-oach by the woman-poet is 
singularly embarrassing to any one but a brute. She floats in 
gracefully and gently. Editor rises to offer her a chair ; his 
heart like lead, but his face a sunbeam. Poetess begins the 
conversation : — 

"You are the editor of the Daily Thunderer f " 

"I am, madam." 

" I have long read your paper, sir, with the greatest pleasure 
and instruction. Our family have taken it for many years, 
and we should feel quite lost without it. We always find 


somelhing interesting in it, and the literary selections are 
admirable ! I see that you often publish poetry — my friends 
have paid me the compliment of saying that some of my poet- 
ical efforts are worthy of being printed — I have — I — have 

— written something here which I wish to submit to you for 
your decision — I should be very glad if you would accept it 

— my friends would be gratified to see it published — we have 
often read your paper with interest — my father, who adver- 
tises with you, likes the Thunderer very much — and — and 
will you be so good, sir, as to look over this — and I shall 
look for it to-mon'ow," — and then a sweet smile, and a flash 
from a pair of pretty eyes, and, with an engaging air, Aramin- 
tha makes a sweeping salutation and departs. 

The editor draws a long breath, and prints the poem, which 
is likely to be of the pattern of Mrs. Leo Hunter's effusion : — 

" Can I view thee, panting, lying 
On thy stomach, without sighing? 
Can I, unmoved, see thee dying 
Oq a log, 
Expiring frog ? 

" Say, have friends, in shape of boys, 
With wild halloo, and brutal noise, 
HuDted thee from marshy joys, 
With a dog. 
Expiring frog?" 

That is one type. Here is another : — 

Enter a wan man, eyes deeply sunken, hair thrown behind 
the ears in wild confusion, collar crumpled, coat seedy, and hat 
awry. He produces, defiantly, an epic ; hands it, perempto- 
rily, to the occupant of the tripod ; insists that it shall be read 
then and there. He is blandly informed that " it must await 
its turn." He glares savagely for a moment, lingers, turns 
upon his heel, and finally goes. The "poem " is cast into the 
waste-basket, and the next day is sold to a dealer at the rate 
of five cents a pound. The third day the author returns. 
Being inforaied that his manuscript is rejected, .he demands its 
.return. "Impossible, sir!" is the reply; "we never return 


manuscripts ; you should keep a copy if you wish to presei-ve 
what you write." Poet flames out at this, calls the editor hard 
names, — such as "no gentleman" and "blackguard," — and 
the upshot is that the disconsolate bard finds himself suddenly 
excluded from the editorial sanctum. 

These are extreme types — strong contrasts. Not all the 
men are brutal ; on the contrary, very many are gentle, lova- 
ble, and brilliant, and their contributions are gratefully ac- 
cepted and often paid for. Nor, on the other hand, are all 
the poetesses angelic. 

Besides these specimens might be mentioned the drunken 
poet, who borrows " five dollars on account ; " the mad poet, 
who has the lunacies of poor McDonald Clarke, without 
Clarke's genius ; the typographical poet, who continually pes- 
ters editors to print his apostrophes to the printing-press, 
Franklin, and the steam-engine. All these are pure nuis- 
ances, — usually unmitigated humbugs; but are likely to be 
personally good-natured fellows, and so comparatively en- 
durable. Nevertheless, they are bores, professionally speak- 

The Nestor of American poets, afflicted beyond endurance 
by the swarm of rhymesters, who, as he expressed it, "flung 
themselves in a body " upon his journal, once gave significant 
expression to his judgment of this class of bores. Of all the 
editors of New York, William Cullen Bryant is the finest 
scholar, the best poet, the man most tender of the feelings of 
the poetaster. But even his patience finally snapped off short, 
under the peculiarly aggravating circumstances of an avalanche 
of rhymes which had no reason, and epics without heroes ; and 
some years ago the following address appeared in the columns 
of the Evening Post : — 


" We desire it to be understood by those who amuse themselves with writ- 
ing verses, and who talie, as one of them confesses to us, • a real pleasure at 
seeing their words in print,' that there is very little we can do to accommodate 
them. Probably no one among them all has any idea of the number of his 
competitors for that fame, such as it Is, which is acquired through tlie news- 
papers. There is nothing more common in our country than a certain facility 


In rhyming. Almost everybody can make verses who can count. A few ex- 
amples of general notoriety acquired by poets who have produced what the 
most of readers admire, we fear does the mischief. Their example seduces 
thousands of men and women, mostly young persons, some of mature agCj 
whose case may therefore be considered as hopeless, and even a few aged 
people, who, having commenced poets after they have retired from other oc- 
cupations, go rhyming down the hill of life. 

" But we do not exactly see why this tuneful tribe should fling themselves 
in a body upon the Evening Post. The plain truth is that we receive more 
poetry, oflered for publication in these columns, than we are able to read, and 
are obliged in such cases to content ourselves with the introductory stanza. 
Some of them, if a little long, we consider ourselves as under no necessity 
of reading a word of, since they cannot be admitted. We plead guilty, how- 
ever, to the charge of having sometimes, either through a careless reading of 
the manuscript, or a mistaken good nature, allowed to appear in our columns 
verses which should have been thrown into the fire, and it is fortunate for us 
that a daily newspaper Is not held by its readers to so strict an accountability 
in this respect as a literary weekly or a magazine. We hope our readers will 
bear with us, should we happen sometimes to fall into the same error here- 
after. But while we ask this indulgence from them, we must desire that nu- 
merous class who favor us with their contributions in verse, not to be disap- 
pointed if they never hear of them again. Life is too short to pass much of 
it in looking over manuscript poetry, with the chance of only finding it indif- 
ferent in nine cases out of ten, and we have other uses for our columns than 
publishing it." 

The " tuneful tribe " took the hint, and for a considerable 
time there was a perceptible falling-off in the number of poet- 
ical contributions received at the office of the Evening Post. 
But it was only a lull in the tempest. The rhymesters, recov- 
ering their wind, again climbed Parnassus, and from aerial 
heights launched fresh missives upon the head of the venerated 
poet. He bowed gracefully to the storm. 

The Political Bore is the exact opposite of the Poetical. The 
politician believes, or professes to believe, that all men have 
their price ; that voters, office-holders, judges, jurors, can all 
be bought ; that men in place are like sheep in the shambles, to 
be weighed, and measured, and felt of. In the growing corrup- 
tion of our American political system, which gives opportunity 
for mean men to rule, for scheming villains to buy, for sancti- 
monious hypoci'ites to cajole, the professional politician of our 
cities and large towns is not wrong in his general estimate. He 
takes the world as he finds it, and gets his profit from it. But 


all this only makes the Political Bore more a bore to right 
thinking men. 

The Inquisitive Bore wears spectacles, is middle-aged, and 
usually has too little time left after peering into others' business 
to attend to his own and make a living at it. Insinuating in 
manner, but fell in purpose, this species approaches the news- 
paper editor with an air of unconcern, jjasses a comment upon 
the topic of the hour, or that unfailing subject, the weather, 
seizes his victim by the button if he shows a disposition to 
escape, and holds on. 

The Clerical Bore walks gravely into the editorial sanctum, 
and tells the editor, in round, full tones, " How much pleased 
I was with your admirable article of yesterday ; " and then 
solemnly sinks into the softest seat to talk. Comparatively 
few of the clergj'^ do this ; and tliose who do are generally from 
New England. Their solemnity is laughable in the eyes of the 
irreverent newspaper man, who learns to detect Chadband and 
Pecksniff at a glance. But there is one type of the bore-cleri- 
cal who is so good and so vain that the afflicted editor has 
patience with his foibles, for the sake of his undeniable virtues. 
This is the middle-aged clergyman of the city parish, who is 
remarkable in the pulpit for emphasizing all the conjunctions 
and prepositions, and in the editorial room for writing puffs for 
himself, over which he laughs good-naturedly as he hands them 
to the editor to be printed, saying: "This sort of thing, you 
know, pleases the members of my congregation, and they don't 
know where it comes from ! " 

The " Strong-minded " Woman is the worst of all the modern 
bores, — worse than the poets of her own sex, and unsurpassed 
even by the ward politician. Charles Dickens somewhere draws 
a portrait of an ancient maiden whose disposition was neither 
sweet nor sour, but of whom it was said that, like the huckster- 
woman's apples, she was " a pleasant tart." A " strong- 
minded " woman, the defender of the doctrine of "woman's 
rights," is not often absolutely acid, nor is she ever completely 
sweet; but, under the most favorable circumstances, she is a 
bore. Some members of this class are tall and angular, — 


determined Pipchins, in steel spectacles and black bomba- 
zine ; others are fat, good-natured, and generally well 
dressed ; others again are young and pretty, and . so make 
havoc. But they are all bores together. "Worst of all, they 
believe, in the power of the Press, haunt newspaper offices, 
and pester newspaper men. Nor are they content with this ; 
for they get weak moneyed men to start newspapers for them ; 
and they get themselves organized into clubs, and get their 
speeches reported in the newspapers, and make themselves 
notorious — while their houses run to decay, their children 
go unkempt, and the wretched male sex, in the places called 
homes, get the treatment of dogs in a kennel. Of such, the 
poet says : — 

" Bound her strew'd room-a frippery chaos lies, 
A chequered wreck of notable and wise ; 
Bills, books, caps, couplets, combs, a varied mass, 
Oppress the toilet and obscure the glass ; 
Unfinished here an epigram Is laid, 
And there a mantua-maker's bill unpaid." 

The Philanthropic Bore is known to every editor. Some- 
times he espouses the cause of the Indian ; sometimes that of 
the street-boy ; Midnight Missions are established by him, and 
he sends flannel jackets to little West Indian negroes ; or he 
cares for orphan children at the rate of ten thousand dol- 
lars a year for each poor little ragged vagabond — and so 
the professional philanthropist makes a good living for him- 
self by working upon the sympathies or appealing to the 
Christian feelings of persons who are easily moved by tales 
of woe. 

The persons afflicted by these classes of bores are not exclu- 
sively newspaper men. Other literary characters have their 
own share of suffering, and the victims might be ranked in their 
proper order thus : — 

1." Editors of newspapers. 

2. Conductors of magazines. 


3. Eeaders for publishing houses, 

4. People who know editors, magazine conductors or pub- 
lishers' readers. 

5. People who know people who know all the foregoing. 





No account of the history of Journalism in New York would 
be complete without a record of the famous hoaxes which have 
appeared in the public prints. Foremost among these is the 
" Moon Hoax," which was first published in Beach's 8un in 
August and September, 1835. 

The author of the " Moon Hoax " was Richard Adams Locke, 
then a resident of the city of Brooklyn. In a moment of riot- 
ous fancy, he conceived the idea of preparing a grand decep- 
tion; and he did it very effectually. In August, 1835, there 
appeared in the columns of the New York Sun a pretended ex- 
tract from the pages of a " Supplement to the Edinburgh Jour- 
nal of Science" under the title Qf " Great Astronomical Discov- 
eries lately made by Sir John Herschel, LL.D., F.E.S., etc., 
at the Cape of Good Hope," — in all of which there was not 
one word of truth ; but the air of perfect honesty and of pro- 
found scientific research with which the deception was put 
forward served to puzzle readers who were not suflSciently 
learned to detect the imposture. As a piece of literary work, 
it was admirable. Several numbers of the Bun were occupied 
with the successive portions of the hoax, and the copies were all 
eagerly bought up. 

A generation has since passed away, and to the younger 
class of readers the story of the "Moon Hoax" is fresh. For 
many years, Locke's essay has been out of print, and stray 
copies of the Sun containing it command high prices at the 
rare intervals when they appear upon the market. The whole 
story is therefore reproduced in the following pages : — 




" From the Supplement to the Edinburgh Jowrnal of Science. 

"In this unusual addition to our Journal, we havfe the hap- 
piness of making known to the British public, and thence to 
the whole civilized world, recent discoveries in Astronomy 
which will build an imperishable monument to the age in which 
we live, and confer upon the present generation of the human 
race a proud distinction through all future time. It has been 
poetically said, that the stars of heaven are the hereditary re- 
galia of man, as the intellectual sovereign of the animal crea- 
tion. He may now fold the Zodiac around him with a loftier 
consciousness of his mental supremacy. 

" It is impossible to contemplate any great Astronomical dis- 
covery, without feelings closely allied to a sensation of awe, 
and nearly akin to those with which a departed spirit may be 
supposed to discover the realities of a future state. Bound by 
the irrevocable laws of nature to the globe on which we live, 
creatures ' close shut up in infinite expanse,' it seems like ac- 
quiring a fearful supernatural power when any remote myste- 
rious works of the Creator yield tribute to our curiosity. It 
seems almost a presumptuous issurpation of powers denied us 
by the divine will, when man, in the pride and confidence of 
his skill, steps forth, far beyond the apparently natural boim- 
dary of his privileges, and demands the secrets and familiar 
fellowship of other worlds. We are assured that when the 
immortal philosopher to whom mankind is indebted for the 
thrilling wonders now first made known, had at length adjusted 
his new and stupendous apparatus with a certainty of success, 
he solemnly paused several hours before he commenced his ob- 
- servations, that he might prepare his own mind for discoveries 
which he knew would fill the minds of myriads of his fellow- 
men with astonishment, and secure his name a bright, if not 
transcendent, conjunction with that of Kis venerable father, to 
all posterity. And well might he pause ! From the hour the 
first human pair opened their eyes to the glories of the blue 
firmament above them, there has been no accesfiion to humar 


knowledge at all comparable in sublime interest to that which 
he has been the honored agent in supplying ; and we are taught 
to believe that, when a work, already preparing for the press, 
in which his discoveries are embodied in detail, shall be laid 
before the public, they will be found of incomparable impor- 
tance to some of the grandest operations of civilized life. 
Well might he pause ! He was about to become the sole de- 
pository of wondrous secrets which had been hid from the eyes 
. of all men that had lived since the birth of time. He was 
about to crown himself with a diadem of knowledge which 
would give him a conscious pre-eminence above every indi- 
vidual of his species who then lived, or who had lived in the 
generations that are passed away. He paused ere he broke 
the seal of the casket which contained it. 

"To render our enthusiasm intelligible, we will state at once 
that by means of a telescope of vast dimensions and an en- 
tirely new principle, the younger Herschel, at his observatory 
in the Southern Hemisphere, has already made the most ex- 
traordinary discoveries in every planet of our solar system ; has 
discovered planets in other solar systems ; has obtained a dis- 
tinct view of objects in the moon, fully equal to that which the 
unaided eye commands of terrestrial objects at the distance of 
a hundred yards ; has affirmatively settled the question whether 
this satellite be inhabited, and by what order of beings ; has 
firmly established a new theory of cometary phenomena ; and 
has solved or corrected nearly every leading problem of math- 
ematical astronomy. 

" For our early and almost exclusive information concerning 
these facts, we are indebted to the devoted friendBhip of Dr. 
Andrew Grant, the pupil of the elder, and for several years 
past the inseparable coadjutor of the younger Herschel. The 
amanuensis of the latter at the Cape of Good Hope, and the 
indefatigable superintendent of his telescope during the whole 
period of its construction and operation. Dr. Grant has been 
enabled to supply us with intelligence equal, in general interest 
at least, to that which Dr. Herschel himself has transmitted to 
the Eoyal Society. Indeed, our correspondent assures us that 
the voluminous documents now before a committee of that in- 


stitution contain little more than details and mathematical 
illustrations of the facts communicated to us in his own ample 
correspondence. For permission to indulge his friendship in 
communicating this invaluable information to us, Dr. Grant 
and ourselves are indebted to the magnanimity of Dr. Herschel, 
who, far above all mercenary considerations, has thus signally 
honored and rewarded his fellow-laborer in the field of science. 
The engravings of lunar animals and other objects, and of the 
phases of the several planets, are accurate copies of drawings 
taken in the observatory by Herbert Home, Esq., who accom- 
panied the last powerful series of reflectors from London to the 
Cape, and superintended their erection ; and he has thus re- 
corded the proofs of their triumphant success. The engraving 
of the belts of Jupiter is a reduced copy of an imperial folio 
drawing hy Dr. Herschel himself, and contains the results of 
his latest observation of that planet. The segment of the inner 
ring of Saturn is from a large drawing by Dr. Grant. 

" We first avail ourselves of the documents which contain, a 
description and history of the instrument by which these stu- 
pendous discoveries have been made. A knowledge of the 
one is essential to the credibility of the other. 

"the younger HERSCHEIi'S TELESCOPE. 

" It is well known that the great reflecting telescope of the 
late elder Herschel, with an object-glass four feet in diameter, 
and a tube forty feet in length, possesses a magnifying power 
of more than six thousand times. But a small portion of this 
power was ever advantageously applied to the nearer astronom- 
ical objects ; for the deficiency of light from objects so highly 
magnified, rendered them less distinct than when viewed with a 
power of a third or fourth of this extent. Accordingly the 
powers which he generally applied when observing the moon or 
planets, and with which he made his most interesting discover- 
ies, ranged from two hundred and twenty, four hundred and 
sixty, seven hundred and fifty, and nine hundred times ; al- 
though, when inspecting the double and treble fixed stars, and 
the more distant nebulse, he frequently applied the full capac- 
ity of his instrument. The law of optics, that an object be- 


comes dim in proportion as it is magnified, seemed, from its 
exemplification in this powerful telescope, to form an insuper- 
able boundary to further discoveries in our solar system. Sev- 
eral years, however, prior to the death of this venerable astron- 
omer, he conceived it practicable to construct an improved 
series of parabolic and spherical reflectors, which, by uniting 
all the meritorious points in the Gregorian and Newtonian in- 
struments, with the highly interesting achromatic discovery of 
DoUand, would, to a great degree, remove the formidable ob- 
struction. His plan evinced the most profound research in 
optical science, and the most dexterous ingenuity in mechanical 
contrivance ; but accumulating infirmities, and eventually death, 
prevented its experimental application. His son, the present 
Sir John Herschel, who had been nursed and cradled in the 
observatory, and a practical astronomer from his boyhood, was 
so fully convinced of the value of the theory, that he determined 
upon testing it, at whatever cost. Within two years of his 
father's death he completed his new apparatus, and adapted it 
to the old telescope with nearly perfect success. He found that 
the magnifying power of six thousand times, when applied to 
the moon, which was the severest criterion that could be se- 
lected, produced, under these new reflectors, a focal object of 
exquisite distinctness, free from every achromatic obscurity, 
and containing the highest degree of light which the great spec- 
ulum could collect from that luminary. 

"The enlargement of the angle of vision, which was thus 
acquired, is ascertained by dividing the moon's distance from 
the observatory by the magnifying power of the instrument ; 
and the former being two hundred and forty thousand miles, 
and the latter six thousand times, leaves a quotient of forty 
miles as the apparent distance of that planet from the eye of 
the observer. Now, it is well known that no terrestrial objects 
can be seen at a greater distance than this, with the naked eye, 
even from the most favorable elevations. The rotundity of 
the earth prevents a more distant view than this with the most 
acute natural vision, and from the highest eminences ; and, 
generally, objects seen at this distance are themselves elevated 
on mountainous ridges. It is not pretended, moreover, that 


this forty mi]es telescopic view of the moon presented its 
objects with equal distinctness, though it did in equal size to 
those of this earth, so remotely stationed. 

"The elder Herschel had nevertheless demonstrated, that, 
with a power of one thousand times, he could discern objects 
in this satellite of not more than one hundred and twenty-two 
yards in diameter. If, therefore, the full capability of the in- 
strument had been elicited by the new apparatus of reflectors 
constructed by his son, it would follow, in mathematical ratio, 
that objects could be discerned of not more than twenty-two 
yards in diameter. Yet in either case they would be seen as 
mere feeble, shapeless points, with no greater conspicuity than 
they would exhibit upon earth to the imaided eye at the dis- 
tance of forty miles. But although the rotundity of the earth 
presented no obstruction to a view of these astronomical ob- 
jects, we believe Sir John Herschel never insisted that he had 
carried out these extreme powers of the telescope in so full a 
ratio. The deficiency of light, though greatly economized and 
concentrated, still maintained some inverse proportion to the 
mao;nitude of the focal image. The advance he had made in 
the knowledge of this planet, though magnificent and sublime, 
was thus but partial and unsatisfactory. He was, it is true, 
enabled to confirm some discoveries of former observers, and 
to confute those of others. The existence of volcanoes dis- 
covered by his father and by Schroeter of Berlin, and the 
changes observed by the latter in the volcano in the Mare 
Gribium, or Lucid Lake, were corroborated and illustrated, as 
was also the prevalence of far more extensive volcauic phe- 
nomena. The disproportionate height attributed to the lunar 
mountains was corrected from careful admeasurement ; whilst 
the celebrated conical hills, encircling valleys of vast diameter, 
and surrouudingj the lofty central hills, were distinctly per- 
ceived. The formation which Professor Frauenhofer unchari- 
tably conjectured to be a lunar fortification, he ascertained to 
be a tabular buttress of a remarkably pyramidical mountain ; 
lines which had been whimsically pronounced roads and canals, 
he found to be keen ridges of singularly regular rows of hills ; 
and that which Schroeter imagined to be a great city in the 


neighborhood of Marius, he determined to be a valley of dis- 
jointed rocks scattered in fragments, which averaged at least a 
thousand yards in diameter. Thus the general geography of 
the planet, in its grand outlines of cape, continent, mountain, 
ocean, and island, was surveyed with greater particularity and 
accuracy than by any previous observer ; and the striking dis- 
similarity of many of its local features to any existing on our 
own globe was clearly demonstrated. The best enlarged maps 
of that luminary which have been published were constructed 
from this survey ; and neither the astronomer nor the public 
ventured to hope for any great accession to their developments. 
The utmost power of the largest telescope in the world had 
been exerted in a new and felicitous manner to obtain them, 
and there was no reasonable expectation that a larger one 
would ever be constructed, or that it could be advantageously 
used if it were. A law of nature, and the finitude of human 
skill, seemed united in inflexible opposition to any further im- 
provement in telescopic science, as applicable to the known 
planets and satellites of the solar system. For unless the sun 
could be prevailed upon to extend a more liberal allowance of 
light to these bodies, and they be induced to. transfer it, for the 
generous gratification of #ur curiosity, what adequate' substi- 
tute could be obtained? Telescopes do not create light; they 
cannot even transmit unimpaired that which they receive. 
That anything further could be derived from hiiman skill in the 
construction of instruments, the labors of his illustrious prede- 
cessors, and his own, left the son of Herschel no reason to 
hope. Huygens, Fontana, Gregory, Newton, Hadley, Bird, 
Short, DoUand, Herschel, and many others, all practical opti- 
cians, had resorted to every material in any wise adapted to 
the composition either of lenses or reflectors, and had ex- 
hausted every law of vision which study had developed and 
demonstrated. In the construction of his last amazing specula. 
Sir John Herschel had selected the most approved amalgams 
that the advanced stage of metallic chemistry had combined ; 
and had watched their growing brightness under the hands of 
the artificer with more anxious hope than ever lover watched 
the eye of his mistress ; and he had nothing further to expect 


than they had accomplished. He had the satisfaction to know- 
that if he could leap astride a cannon-ball, and travel upon its 
wings of fury for the respectable period of several millions of 
years, he would not obtain a more enlarged view of the dis- 
tant stars than he could now possess in a few minutes of time ; 
and that it would require an ultra-railroad speed of fifty miles 
an hour, fois nearly the livelong year, to secure him a more 
favorable inspection of the gentle luminary of night. The 
interesting question, however, whether this light of the solemn 
forest, of the treeless desert, and of the deep blue ocean as it 
rolls ; whether this object of the lonely turret, of the uplifted 
eye on the deserted battle-field, and of all the pilgrims of love 
and hope, of misery and despair, that have journeyed over the 
hills and valleys of this earth, through all the eras of its un- 
written history to those of its present voluminous record ; the 
exciting question, whether this ' observed ' of all the sons of 
men, from the days of Eden to those of Edinburgh, be inhab- 
ited by beings like ourselves, of consciousness and curiosity, 
was left for solution to the benevolent index of natural analogy, 
or to the severe tradition that it is tenanted only by the hoary 
solitaire whom the criminal code of the nursery had banished 
thither for collecting fuel on the Sabbnth day. 

"The limits of discovery in the planetary bodies, and in this 
one especially, thus seemed to be immutably fixed ; and no 
expectation was elevated for a period of several years. But, 
about three years ago, in the course of a conversational discus- 
sion with Sir David Brewster upon the merits of some ingen- 
ious suggestions by the latter, in his article on optics in the 
' Edinburgh Encyclopedia ' (p. 644), for improvements in the 
Newtonian Reflectors, Sir John Herschel adverted to the con- 
venient simplicity of the old astronomical telescopes that were 
without tubes, and the object-glass of which, placed upon a 
high pole, threw its focal image to a distance of one hundred 
and fifty, and even two hundred feet. Dr. Brewster readily 
admitted that a tube was not necessary, provided the focal 
image were conveyed into a dark apartment, and there properly 
received by reflectors. Sir John then said that, if his fa- 
ther's great telescope, the tube alone of which, though formed 


of the lightest suitable materials, weighed three thousand 
pounds, possessed an easy and steady mobility with its heavy 
observatory attached, an observatory movable without the in- 
cumbrance of such a tube was obviously practical. This also 
was admitted, and the conversation became directed to that all- 
invincible enemy, — the paucity of light in powerful magnifiers. 
After a few moments' silent thought. Sir John diffidently in- 
quired whether it would not be possible to efiect a transfusion 
of artificial light through the focal object of vision! Sir David, 
somewhat startled at the originality of the idea, paused awhile, 
and then hesitatingly referred to the refrangibility of rays, and 
the angle of incidence. Sir John, grown more confideut, ad- 
duced the example of the Newtonian Reflector, in which the 
refrangibility was corrected by the second speculum, and the 
angle of incidence restored by the third. ' And,' continued 
he, ' why cannot the illuminated microscope, say the hydro- 
oXygen, be applied to render distinct, and, if necessary, even to 
magnify, the focal object ? ' Sir David sprung from his chair in 
an ecstasy of conviction, and, leaping half way to the ceiling, 
exclaimed, ' Thou art the man ! ' Each philosopher anticipated 
the other in presenting the prompt illustration that if the rays 
of the hydro-oxygen microscope, passed through a drop of 
water containing the larvse of a gnat, and other objects invisible 
to the naked eye, rendered them not only keenly but firmly 
magnified to dimensions of many feet ; so could the same arti- 
ficial light, passed through the faintest focal object of a tele- 
scope, both distinctify (to coin a new word for an extraordinary 
occasion) and magnify its feeblest component members. The 
only apparent desideratum was a recipient for the focal image 
which should transfer it, without refranging it, to the surface on 
which it was to be viewed under the revivifying light of the 
microscropic reflectors. In the various experiments made 
during the few following vVfeeks, the co-operative philosophers 
decided that a medium of the purest plate glass (which it is 
said they obtained, by consent, be it observed, from the shop 
window of Mons. Desanges, the jeweller to his ex-majesty 
Charles X., in High Street) was the most eligible they could 
discover. It answered perfectly with a telescope which mag- 


nifiecT one hundred times, and a microscope of about thrice 
that power. 

" Sir John Herschel then coffceived the stupendous fabric of 
his present telescope. The power of his father's instrument 
would still leave him distant from his favorite planet nearly 
forty miles, and he resolved to attempt a greater magnifier. 
Money, the wings of science as the sinews of war, seemed the 
only requisite, and even the acquisition of this, which is often 
more difficult than the task of Sisyphus, he determined to 
achieve. Fully sanctioned by the high optical authority of Sir 
David Brewster, he laid his plan before the Royal Society, and 
particularly directed to it the attention of His Royal Pligjiness 
the Duke of Sussex, the ever munificent patron of science and 
the arts. It was immediately and enthusiastically approved by 
the committee chosen to investigate it, and the chairman, who 
was the Royal President, subscribed his name for a contribu- 
tion of ten thousand pounds, with a promise that he would 
zealously submit the proposed instrument as a fit object for the 
patronage of the privy purse. He did so without delay, and 
his Majesty, on being informed that the estimated expense w^as 
seventy thousand pounds, naively inquired if the costly instru- 
ment would conduce to any improvement in navigation? On 
being informed that it undoubtedly would, the sailor king 
promised a carte blanche for the amount which might be re- 
quired. ' 

" Sir John Herschel had submitted his plans and calculations 
in adnptation to an object-glass of twenty-four feet in diame- 
ter, — just six tjmes the size of his venerable father's. For 
casting this ponderous mass, he selected the large glass-house 
of Messrs. Hartly and Grant (the brother of our invaluable 
friend Dr. Grant), at Dumbarton. The material chosen was an 
amalgamation of two parts of the best crown with one of flint 
glass, the use of which, in separate lenses, constituted the great 
achromatic discovery of Dolland. It had been found, however, 
by accurate experiments, that the amalgarh would as com- 
pletely triumph over every impediment, bothfrom refrangibility 
and discoloration, as the separate lenses. Five furnaces of the 
metal, carefully collected from productions of the manufactory, 


in both the kinds of glass, and known to be respectively of 
nearly perfect homogeneous quality, were united, by one grand 
conductor, to the mould; and on the third of January, 1833, 
the first cast was effected. After cooling eight days, the mould 
was opened, and the glass found to be greatly flawed within 
eighteen inches of the centre. Notwithstanding this failure, a 
new glass was more carefully cast on the twenty-seventh of 
the same month, which, on being opened during the first week 
of February, was found to be immaculately perfect, with the 
exception of two slight flaws so near the line of its circumfer- 
ence that they would be covered by the copper ring in which it 
was designed to be enclosed. 

" The weight of this prodigious lens was fourteen thousand 
eight hundred and twenty-six pounds, or nearly seven tons 
after being polished ; and its estimated magnifying power forty- 
two thousand times. It was therefore presumed to be capable 
of representing objects in our lunar satellite of little more than 
eighteen inches in diameter, provided its focal image of them 
could be rendered distinct by the transfusion of artificial light. 
It was not, however, upon the mere illuminating power of the 
hydro-oxygen microscope, as applied to the focal pictures of 
this lens, that the younger Herschel depended for the realiza- 
tion of his ambitious theories and hopes. He calculated largely 
upon the almost illimitable applicability of this instrument as a 
second magnifier, which would supersede the use, and infinitely 
transcend the powers of the highest magnifiers in reflecting 

" So sanguinely indeed did he calculate upon the advantages 
of this splendid alliance, that he expressed confidence in his 
ultimate ability to study even the entomology of the moon, in 
case she contained insects upon her surface. Having witnessed 
the completion of this great lens, and its safe transportation to 
the metropolis, his next care was the construction of a suitable 
microscope, and of the mechanical framework, for the horizon- 
tal and vertical action of the whole. His plans in every branch 
of his undertaking having been intensely studied, even to their 
minutest details, were easily and rapidly executed. He awaited 


only the appointed period at which he was to convey his mag- 
nificent apparatus to its destination. 

" A correspondence had for some time passed between the 
Boards of England, France, and Austria, with a view to im- 
provements in the tables of longitude in the southern hemi- 
sphere, which are found to be much less accurate than those 
of the northern. The high opinion entertained by the British 
Board of Longitude of the principles of the new telescope, and 
' of the profound skill of its inventor, determined the govern- 
ment to solicit his services in observing the transit of Mercuiy 
over the sun's disk, which will take place on the seventh of No- 
vember in the present year ; and which, as it will occur at 7h. 
47m. 55s. night, conjunction, mean time, and at 8h. 12m. 22s. 
middle, true time, will be invisible to nearly all the northern 
hemisphere. The place at which the transits of Mercury and 
of Venus have generally been observed by the astronomers of 
Europe, when occurring under these circumstances, is the Cape 
of Good Hope ; and no transit of Venus having occuiTed since 
the year 1769, and none being to occur before 1874, the accu- 
rate observation of the transits of Mercury, which occur more 
frequently, has been found of great importance both to astron- 
omy and navigation. To the latter useful art, indeed, the 
transits of Mercury are nearly as important as those of Venus ; 
for although those of the latter planet have the peculiar ad- 
vantage of determining exactly the great solar parallax, and 
thence the distances of all the planets from the sun, yet the 
transits of Mercury, by exactly determining the place of its 
own node, independently of the parallax of the great orb, de- 
termine the parallax of the earth and moon ; and are therefore 
especially valuable in lunar observations of longitude. The 
Cape of Good Hope has been found preferable, in these obser- 
vations, to any other station in the hemisphere. The expedi- 
tion which went to Peru, about the middle of the last century, 
to ascertain, in conjunction with another in Lapland, the true 
figure of the earth, found the attraction of the mountainous 
regions so strong as to cause the plumb-line of one of their large 
instruments to deflect seven or eight seconds from the true per- 
pendicular ; whilst the elevated plains at the Cape unite all the 


advantages of a lucid atmosphere with an entire freedom from 
mountainous obstruction. Sir John Herschel, thereforei not 
only accepted the appointment with high satisfaction, but 
requested that it might commence at least a year before the 
period of the transit, to afford him time to bring his ponderous 
and complicated machinery into perfect adjustment, and to ex- 
tend his knowledge of the southern constellations. 

" His wish 'was immediately assented to, and his arrangements 
being completed, he sailed from London on the fourth of Sep- 
tember, 1834, in company with Dr. Andrew Grant, Lieutenant 
Drummond, of the Eoyal Engineers, F.R.A.S., and a large 
party of the best English mechanics. They arrived, after an 
expeditious and agreeable passage, and immediately proceeded 
to transport the lens, and the frame of the large observatory, to 
its destined site, which was a piece of table-land of great extent 
and elevation, about thirty-five miles to the north-east of Cape- 
town ; and which is said to be the very spot on which De la 
Caille, in 1750, constructed his invaluable solar tables, when he 
measured a degree of the meridian, and made a great advance" 
to exactitude in computing the solar parallax from that of Mars 
and the Moon. Sir John accomplished the ascent to the plains 
by means of two relief teams of oxen, of eighteen each, in about 
four days ; and, aided by several companies of Dutch Boors, 
proceeded at once to the erection of his gigantic fabric. 

" The ground plan of the structure is in some respects similar 
to that of the Herschel telescope in England, except that 
instead of circular foundations of brickwork, it consists of 
parallel circles of railroad iron, upon wooden framework ; so 
constructed that the turn-outs, or rather turn-ins, from the 
largest circle, will conduct the obseS-vatory, which moves upon 
them, to the innermost circle, which is the basis of the lens- 
works, and to each of the circles that intervene. The diameter 
of the smallest circle is twenty-eight feet ; that of the largest 
our correspondent has singularly forgotten to state, though it 
may be in some measure computed from the angle of incidence 
projected by the lens, and the space occupied by the observa- 
tory. The latter is a wooden building fifty feet square and as 
many high, with a flat roof and gutters of thin copper. Through 


the side proximate to the lens is an aperture four feet in 
diameter to receive its rays, and through the roof another, for 
the same purpose in meridional observations. The lens, which 
is enclosed iu a frame of wood, and braced to its corners by 
bars of copper, is suspended upon an axis between two pillars, 
which are nearly as high as those which supported the celebrated 
quadrant of Uleg Beg, being one hundred and fifty feet. These 
are united at the top and bottom by cross-pieces, 'and strength- 
ened by a number of diagonal braces ; and between them is a 
double capstan for hoisting the lens from its horizontal line with 
the observatory to the height required by its focal distance when 
turned to the meridian ; and for elevating it to any intermediate 
degree of altitude that may be needed. This last operation is 
beautifully regulated by an immense double sextant, which is 
connected and moves with the axis of the lens, and is regulai'ly 
divided into degrees, minutes, and seconds ; and the horizontal 
circles of the observatory being also divided into three hundred 
and sixty degrees, and minutely subdivided, the whole instru- 
ment has the powers and regularity of the most improved the- 
odolite. Having no tube, it is connected with the observatory 
by two horizontal levers, which pass underneath the floor of 
that building from the circular basis of the pillars ; thus keep- 
ing the lens always square with the observatory, and securing 
to both a uniform and simple movement. By means of these 
levers, too, a rack and windlass* the observatory is brought to 
any degree of approximation to the pillars that the altitude of 
an observation may require ; and although, when at its nearest 
station, it cannot command an observation with the great lens 
within about fifteen degrees of the meridian, it is supplied with 
an excellent telescope of ■^st power, constructed by the elder 
Herschel, by which every high degree can be surveyed. The 
field of view, therefore, whether exhibited on the floor or on 
the wall of the apartment, has a diameter of nearly fifty feet, 
and, being circular, it has therefore an area of nearly one thou- 
sand eight hundred and seventy-five feet. The place of all the 
horizontal movements having been accurately levelled by 
Lieut. Drummond, with the improved level of his invention 
which bears. his name, and the wheels both of the observatory 


and of the lens-works being facilitaterl by friction-rollers iu 
patent axle-boxes filled with oil, the strength of one man ay- 
plied to the extremity of the levers is sufficient to propel the 
whole structure upon either of the railroad circles ; and that of 
two men applied to the windlass is fully adequate to bring the 
observatory to the basis of the pillars. Both of these move- 
ments, however, are now effected by a locomotive apparatus 
commanded within the apartment by a single person, and show- 
ing, by means of an ingenious index, every inch of progression 
or retrogression. 

" We have not thus particularly described the telescope of the 
younger Herschel, because we consider it the most magnificent, 
specimen of philosophical mechanism of the present or any 
previous age, but because we deemed an explicit description of 
its priucijjles and powers an almost indispensable introduction 
to a statement of the sublime expansion of human knowledge 
which it has achieved. It was not fully completed iiutil the 
latter part of December, when the series of large reflectoiis for 
the microscope arrived from England; and it was brought 
into operation during the first week of the ensuing month and 
year. But the secrecy which had been maintained Avith regard 
to its novelty, its manufacture, and its destination was not less 
rigidly preserved for several months respecting the grandeur 
of its success. Whether the British Government were skeptical 
concerning the promised splendor of its discoveries, or wished 
them to be scrupulously veiled until they had accumulated a 
full-orbed glory for the nation and reign in which they origi- 
nated, is a question which we can only conjecturally solve. 
But certain it is that the astronomer's royal patrons enjoined a 
masonic taciturnity upon him and his friends until he should 
have officially communicated the results of his great experi- 
ment. Accordingly, the world heard nothing of him or his 
expedition until it was announced a few months since, in the 
scientific journals of Germany, that Sir John Herschel, at the 
Cape of Good Hope, had written to the astronomer-royal of 
Vienna, to inform him that the portentous comet predicted for 
the year 1835, which was to approach so near this trembling 
globe that we might hear the roaring of its fires, had turned 


upon another scent, and would not even shake a hair of its tail 
upon our hunting-grounds. At a loss to conceive by what 
extra authority he had made so bold a declaration, the men of 
science in Europe, who were not acquainted with his secret, 
regarded his ' postponement,' as his discovery was termed, 
with incredulous contumely, and continued to terrorize upon 
the strength of former predictions. 

"new lunar DISCOVERIES. 

"Until the tenth of January, the observations were chiefly 
directed to the stars in the southern signs, in which, without 
the aid of the hydro-oxygen reflectors, a countless number of 
new stars and nebulae were discovered. But we shall defer 
our correspondent's account of these to future pages, for the 
purpose of no longer withholding from our readers the more 
generally and highly interesting discoveries which were made 
in the lunar world. And for this purpose, too, we shall defer 
Dr. grant's elaborate mathematical details of the corrections 
which Sir John Herschel has made in the best tables of the 
moon's tropical, sidereal, and synodic revolutions, and of those 
phenomena of syzygies on which a great part of the estab- 
lished lunar theory depends. 

"It was about half-past nine o'clock on the night of the 
tenth, the moon having then advanced within four days of her 
mean libration, that the astronomer adjusted his instruments 
for the inspection of her eastern limb. The whole immense 
power of his telescope was applied, and to its focal image 
about one-half of the power of his microscope. On removing 
the screen of the latter, the field of view was covered through- 
out its entire area with a beautifully distinct, and even vivid 
representation of basaltic rock. Its color was a greenish-brown, 
and the width pi the columns, as defined by their interstices 
on the canvas, was invariably twenty-eight inches. No frac- 
ture whatever appeared in the mass first presented, but in a 
few seconds a shelving pile appeared of five or six columns' 
width, which showed their figure to be hexagonal, and their ar- 
ticulations similar to those of the basaltic formation at Stafia. 
This precipitous shelf was profusely covered with a dark-red 


flower, 'precisely similar,' says Dr. Grant, 'to the Papaver 
Shoeas, or rose-poppy of our sublunary corn-fields ; and this 
was the first organic production of nature, in a foreign world, 
ever revealed to the eyes of men.' 

"The rapidity of the moon's ascension, or rather of the 
earth's diurnal rotation, being nearly equal to five hundred 
yards in a second, would have efifectually prevented the inspec- 
tion, or even the discovery, of objects so minute as these, but 
for the admirable mechanism which constantly regulates, under 
the guidance of the sextant, the required altitude of the lens. 
But its operation was found to be so consummately perfect, 
that the observers could detain the object upon the field of view 
for any period they might desire. The specimen of lunar vege- 
tation, however, which they had already seen, had decided a 
question of too exciting an interest to induce them to retard its 
exit. It had demonstrated that the moon has an atmosphere 
constituted similarly to our own, and capable of sustaining 
organized, and therefore, most probably, animal life. The 
basaltic rocks continued ■ to pass ' over the inclined canvas 
plane, through three successive diameters, when a verdant de- 
clivity of great beauty appeared, which occupied two more. 
This was preceded by another mass of nearly the former height, 
at the base of which they were at length delighted to perceive 
that novelty, a lunar forest. 'The trees,' says Dr. Grant, 'for 
a period of ten minutes, were of one unvaried kind, and unlike 
any I have seen, except the largest kind of yews in the English 
church-yards, which they in some respects resemble. These 
were followed by a level green plain, which, as measured by 
the painted circle on our canvas of forty-nine feet, must have 
been more than half a mile in breadth ; and then appeared as 
fine a forest of firs, unequivocal firs, as I have ever seen cher- 
ished in the bosom of my native mountains. Wearied with 
the long continuance of these, we greatly reduced the magni- 
fying powers of the microscope, without eclipsing either of the 
reflectors, and immediately perceived that we had been insensi- 
bly descending, as it were, a mountainous district of a highly 
diversified and romantic character, and that we were on the 
verge of a lake, or inland sea ; but of what relative locality or 



extent, we were yet too greatly magnified to determine. On 
introducing the feeblest achromatic lens we possessed, we found 
that the water, whose boundary we had just discovered, an- 
swered in general outline to the Mare Nubium of Kiccoli, by 
which we detected that, instead of commencing, as we sup- 
posed, on the eastern longitude of the planet, some delay in 
the elevation of the great lens had thrown us nearly upon the 
axis of her equator. However, as she was a free country, and 
we not, as yet, attached to any particular province, and, more- 
over, since we could at any moment occupy our intended jDosi- 
tion, we again slid in our magic lenses to survey the shores of 
the Mare Nubium. Why Eiccoli so termed it, unless in ridi- 
cule of Cleomedes, I know not; for fairer shores never angels 
coasted on a toiir of pleasure. A beach of brilliant white 
sand, girt with wild, castellated rocks, apparently of green 
marble, varied at chasms, occurring every two or three hun- 
dred feet, with grotesque blocks of chalk or gypsum, and 
feathered and festooned at the summit with the clustering foli- 
age of unknown trees, moved along the bright wall of our 
apartment imtil we were speechless with admiration. The 
water, wherever'we obtained a view of it, was nearly as blue 
as that of the deep ocean, and broke in large, white billows 
upon the strand. The action of very high tides was quite man- 
ifest upon the face of the cliffs for more than a hundred miles ; 
yet diversified as the scenery was during this and a much 
greater distance, we perceived no trace of animal existence, 
notwithstanding we could command at will a perspective or a 
foi-eground view of the whole. Mr. Holmes, indeed, pro- 
nounced some white objects of a circular form, which we saw 
at some distance in the interior of a cavern, to be bona fide 
specimens of a large cornu ammonis ; but to me they appeared 
merely large pebbles, which had been chafed and rolled there 
by the tides. Our chase of animal life was not yet to be re- 

" Having continued this close inspection nearly two hours, 
during which we passed over a wide tract of- country, chiefly 
of a rugged and apparently volcanic character; and having 
seen few additional varieties of vegetation, except some species 


of lichen, which grew everywhere in great abundance, Dr. 
Herschel proposed that we should take out all our lenses, give 
a rapid speed to the panorama, and search for some of the 
principal valleys known to astronomers, as the most likely 
method to reward our first night's observation with the discov- 
ery of animated beings. The lenses being removed, and the 
effulgence of our unutterably glorious reflectors left undimin- 
ished, we found, in accordance with our calculations, that our 
field of view comprehended about twenty-five miles of the lu- 
nar surface, with the distinctness both of outline and detail 
which could be procured of a terrestrial object at the distance 
of two and a half miles ; an optical phenomenon which you 
will find demonstrated in Note five. This afforded us the best 
landscape views we had hitherto obtained, and, although the 
accelerated motion was rather too great, we enjoyed them with 
rapture. Several of those famous valleys, which are bounded 
by lofty hills of so perfectly conical a form as to render them 
less like works of nature than of art, passed the canvas before 
we had time to check their flight ; but presently a train of 
scenery met our eye, of features so entirely novel, that Dr. 
Herschel signalled for the lowest convenient gradation of 
movement. It was a lofty chain of obelisk-shaped, or very 
slender pyramids, standing in irregular groups, each composed 
of about thirty or forty spires, every one of which was per- 
fectly square, and as accurately truncated as the finest speci- 
mens of Cornish crystal. They were of a faint lilac hbe, and 
very resplendent. I now thought that we had suddenly fallen 
on productions of art ; but Dr. Herschel shrewdly remarked, 
that if the Lunarians could build thirty or forty miles of such 
monuments as these, we should ere now have discovered others 
of a less equivocal character. He pronounced them quartz 
formations, of probably the wine-colored amethyst species, and 
promised us, from these and other proofs which ho had 
obtained of the powerful action of laws of crystallLzatiou in this 
planet, a rich field of mineralogical study. On introducing a 
lens, his conjecture was fully confinned; they were monstrous 
amethysts, of a diluted claret color, glowing in the intensest 
light of the sun ! Thpy varied in height from sixty to ninety 


feet, though we saw several of a still more incredible altitude. 
They were observed in a succession of valleys divided by lon- 
gitudinal lines of round-breasted hills, covered with verdure, 
and nobly undulated ; but what is most remarkable, the valleys 
which contained these stupendous crystals were invariably bar- 
ren, and covered with stones of a ferruginous hue, which were 
probably iron pyrites. We found that some of these curiosi- 
ties were situated in a district elevated half a mile above the 
valley of the Mare Foecunditatis, of Mayer and Eiceioli, the 
shores of which soon hove in view. But never was a name 
more inappropriately bestowed. From 'Dan to Beersheba' 
all was barren, barren, — the sea-board was entirely composed 
of chalk and flint, and not a vestige of vegetation could be dis- 
covered with our strongest glasses. The whole breadth of the 
northern extremity of this sea, which was about three hundred 
miles, having crossed our plane, we entered upon a wild, moun- 
tainous region abounding with more extensive forests of larger 
trees than we had before seen, the species of which I have no 
good analogy to describe. In general contour they resembled 
our forest oak ; but they were much more superb in foliage, 
having broad, glossy leaves like that of the laurel, and tresses 
of yellow flowers which hung, in the open glades, from the 
branches to the ground. These mountains passed, we arrived 
at a region which filled us with utter astonishment. It was an 
oval valley, surrounded, except at a narrow opening towards 
the south, by hills red as the purest vermilion, and evidently 
crystallized ; for wherever a precipitous chasm appeared — and 
these chasms were very frequent, and of immense depth — the 
perpendicular sections presented conglomerated masses of 
polygon crystals, evenly fitted to each other, and arranged in 
deep strata, which grew darker in color as they descended to 
the foundations of the precipices. Innumerable cascades were 
bursting forth from the breasts of every one of these clifls, and 
some so near their summits, and with such great force, as to 
form arches many yai-ds in diameter. I never was so vividly 
reminded of Byron's simile, ' the tale of the white horse in the 
Revelation.' At the foot of this boundary of hills was a per- 
fect zone of woods surrounding the Avhole valley, which was 


about eighteen or twenty miles wide, at its greatest breadth, 
and about thirty in length. Small collections of trees, of every 
imaginable kind, were scattered about the whole of the luxuri- 
ant ai-ea ; and here our magnifiers blessed our panting hopes 
with specimens of conscious existence. In the shade of the 
woods on the south-eastern side, we beheld continuous herds of 
brown quadrupeds, having all the external characteristics of 
the bison, but more diminutive than any species of the bos 
genus in our natural history. Its tail is like that of our bos 
grunniens ; but in its semi-circular horns, the hump on its 
shoulders, and the depth of its dewlap, and the length of its 
shaggy hair, it closely resembled the species to which I first 
compared it. It had, however, one widely distinctive feature, 
which we afterwards found common to nearly every lunar quad- 
ruped we have discovered ; namely, a remarkable fleshy 
appendage over the eyes, crossing th6 whole breadth of the 
forehead and united to the ears. We could most distinctly 
perceive this hairy veil, which was shaped like the upper front 
outline of a cap known to the ladies as Mary Queen of Scots' 
cap, lifted and lowered by means of the ears. It immediately 
occurred to the acute mind of Dr. Herschel, that this was a 
providential contrivance to protect the eyes of the animal from 
the great extremes of light and darkness to ' which all the 
inhabitants of our side of the moon are periodically subjected. 
" The next animal perceived would be classed on earth as a 
monster. It was of a bluish lead color, about the size of a 
goat, with a head and beard like him, and a single horn, 
slightly inclined forward from the perpendicular. The female 
was destitute of the horn and beard, but had a much longer 
tail. It was gregarious, and chiefly abounded on the acclivi- 
tous glades of the woods. In elegance of symmetry it rivalled 
the antelope, and like him it seemed an agile, sprightly crea- 
ture, running with great speed, and springing from the green 
turf with all the unaccountable antics of a young lamb or kit- 
ten. This beautifnl creature afibrded us the most exquisite 
amusement. The mimicry of its movements upon our white 
painted canvas was as faithful and luminous as that of animals 
within a few yards of the camera obscura, when seen pictured 


upon its tympan. Frequently when attempting to put our 
fingers upon its beard, it would suddenly bound away into 
oblivion, as if conscious of our earthly impertinence ; but then 
others would appear, whom we could not prevent nibbling the 
herbage, say or do what we would to them. 

" On examining the centre of this delightful valley, we found 
a large, branching river, abounding with lovely islands, and 
water-birds of numerous kinds. A species of gray pehcan was 
the most numerous ; but a black and white crane, with unrea- 
sonably long legs and bill, was also quite common. "We 
watched their pisciverous experiments a long time, in hopes of 
catching sight of a lunar fish ; but although we were not grati- 
fied in this respect, we could easily guess the purpose with 
which they plunged their long necks so deeply beneath the 
water. Near the upper extremity of one of these islands we 
obtained a glimpse of a strange, amphibious creature, of a 
spherical form, which rolled with great velocity across the peb- 
bly beach, and was lost sight of in the strong current which 
set off from this angle of the island. We were compelled, 
however, to leave this prolific valley unexplored, on account 
of clouds which were evidently accumulatiag in the lunar 
atmosphere, our own being perfectly translucent. But this 
was itself an interesting discovery, for more distant observers 
had questioned or denied the existence of any humid atmos- 
phere in this planet. 

" The moon being now low on her descent. Dr. Herschel 
inferred that the increasing refrangibility of her rays would 
prevent any Satisfactory protraction of our labors, and bur 
minds being actually fatigued with the excitement of the high 
enjoyments we had partaken, we mutually agreed to call in 
the assistants at the lens, and reward their vigilant attention 
with congratulatory bumpers of the best ' East India Particu- 
lar.' It was not, however, without regret that we left the 
splendid valley of the red mountains, which, in compliment to 
the arms of our royal patron, we denominated ' the Valley of 
the Unicorn ; ' and it may be found in Blunt's map, about mid- 
way between the Mare Fcecunditatis and the Mare Nectaris. 
" The nights of the eleventh and twelfth being cloudy, were 


imfavorable to observation ; but on those of the thirteenth and 
fourteenth further animal discoveries were made of the most 
exciting interest to every human being. We give them in the 
graphic language of our accomplished correspondent : — 

" ' The astonishing and beautiful discoveries which we had 
made during our first night's observation, and the brilliant 
promise which they gave of the future, rendered every moon- 
light hour too precious to reconcile us to the deprivation occa- 
sioned by these two cloudy evenings ; and they were borne 
with strictly philosophical patience, notwithstanding that our 
attention was closely occupied in superintending the erection 
of additional props and braces to the twenty-four feet lens, 
which we found had somewhat vibrated in a high wind that 
arose on the morning of the eleventh. The night of the thir- 
teenth (January) was one of pearly purity and loveliness. The 
moon ascended the firmament in gorgeous splendor, and the 
stars, retiring around her, left her the unrivalled queen of the 
hemisphere. This being the last night but one, in the present 
month, during which we should have an opportunity of inspect- 
ing her western limb, on account of the libration in longitude 
which would thence immediately ensue, Dr. Herschel informed 
us that he should direct our researches to the parts numbered 
,2, 11, 26, and 20 in Blunt's map, and which are respectively 
known in the modern catalogue by the names of Endymion, 
Cleomedes, Langrenus, and Petavius. To the careful inspec- 
tion of these, and the regions between them and the extreme 
western rim, he proposed to devote the whole of this highly 
favorable night. Taking then our twenty-five miles' breadth of 
her surface upon the field of view, and reducing it to a slow 
movement, we soon found the first very singularly shaped 
object of our inquiry. It is a highly mountainous district, the 
loftier chains of which form three narrow ovals, two of which 
approach each other in slender points, and are united by one 
mass of hills of great length and elevation ; thus presenting a 
fio-ure similar to that of a long skein of thread, the bows of 
which have been gradually spread open from their connecting 
knot. The third oval looks also like a skein, and lies as if 
carelessly dropped from nature's hand in connection with the 


other ; but that which might fancifully be supposed as having 
formed the second bow of this second skein is cut open, and 
lies in scattered threads of smaller hills which cover a great 
extent of level tewitory. The ground plan of these mountains 
is so remarkable that it has been accurately represented in 
almost every lineal map of the moon that has been drawn ; and 
in Blunt's, which is the best, it agrees exactly with my descrip- 
tion. Within the grasp, as it were, of the broken bow of hills 
last mentioned, stands an oval-shaped mountain, enclosing a 
valley of an immense area, and having on its western ridge a 
volcano in a state of terrific eruption. To the north-east of 
this, across the broken, or what Mr. Holmes called "the vaga- 
bond mountains," are three other detached oblong formations, 
the largest and last of which is marked F in the catalogue, and 
fancifully denominated the Mare Mortuum, or more commonly 
the "Lake of Death." Induced by a curiosity to divine the 
reason of so sombre a title, rather than by any more philosophi-r 
cal motive, we here fii-st applied our hydro-oxygen mtignifiers 
to the focal image of the great lens. Our twenty-five miles' 
portion of this great mountain circus had comprehended the 
whole of its area, and of course the two conical hills which rise 
iu it about five miles from each other ; but although this breadth 
of view had heretofore generally presented its objects as if seen ^ 
within a terrestrial distance of two and a half miles, we were, 
in this instance, unable to discern these central hills with any 
such degree of distinctness. There did not appear to be any 
mist or smoke around them, as in the case of the volcano which 
we had left in the south-west, and yet they were comparatively 
indistinct upon the canvas. On sliding in the gas-light lens 
the mystery was immediately solved. They were old craters 
of extinct volcanoes, from which still issued a heated though 
transparent exhalation, that kept them in an apparently oscil- 
latory or trembling motion, most unfavorable to examination. 
The craters of both these hills, as nearly as we could judge under 
this obstruction, were about fifteen fathoms deep, devoid of 
any appearance of fire, and of nearly a yellowish-white color 
throughout. The diameter of each was about nine diameters 
of our painted circle, or nearly four huudred and fifty feet ; and 


the width of the rim surrounding them about one thousand feet ; 
yet,- notwithstanding their narrow mouths, these two chimneys 
of the subterranean deep had evidently filled the whole area of 
the valley in which they stood with the lava and ashes with 
which it was encumbered, and even added to the height, if not 
indeed caused the existence, of the oval chain of mountains 
which surrounded it. These mountains, as subsequently meas- 
ured from the level of some large lakes around them, averaged 
the height of two thousand eight hundred feet ; and Dr. Her- 
schel conjectured from this and the vast extent of their abut- 
ments, which ran for many miles into thp country around them, 
that these volcanoes must have been in full activity for a million 
of years. Lieut. Drummond, however, rather supposed that 
the whole area of this oval valley was but the exhausted crater 
of one vast volcano, which, in expiring, had left only these two 
imbecile representatives of its power. I believe Dr. Herschel 
himself afterwards adopted this probable theory, which is in- 
deed confirmed by the universal geology of the planet. There 
is scarcely a hundred miles of her surface, not even excepting 
her largest seas and lakes, in which circular or oval mountainous 
ridges may not be easily found ; and many, very'many of these 
having numerous enclosed hills in full volcanic operation, which 
are now much lower than the surrounding circles, it admits of 
no doubt that each of these great formations is the remains of 
one vast mountain which has burnt itself out, aiid left only 
these wide foundations of its ancient grandeur. A direct proof 
of this is afforded in a tremendous volcano, now in its prime, 
which I shall hereafter notice. What gave the name of " The 
Lake of Death " to the annular mountain I have just described, 
Avas, I suppose, the dark appearance of the valley which it 
encloses, and which, to a more distant view than we obtained, 
certainly exhibits the general aspect of the waters on this planet. 
The surrounding country is fertile to excess ; between this cir- 
cle and No. 2 (Endymion), which we proposed first to exam- 
ine, we counted not less than twelve luxuriant forests, divided 
by open plains, which waved in an ocean of verdure, and were 
probably prairies like those of North America. In three of. 
these we discovered numerous herds of quadrupeds similar to 


our friends the bisons in the Valley of the Unicorn, but of 
much larger size ; and scarcely a piece of woodland occurred in 
our panorama which did not dazzle our vision with flocks of 
white or red birds upon the wing. 

"'At length we carefully explored the Endymion. We 
found each of the three ovals volcanic and sterile within ; but, 
without, most rich, throughout the level regions around them, 
in every imaginable production of a bounteous soil. Dr. 
Herschel has classified not less than thirty-eight species of 
forest trees, and nearly twice this number of plants, found in 
this tract alone, which are widely diflferent to those found in 
more equatorial latitudes. Of animals, he classified nine 
species of mammalia, and five of ovipara. Among the former 
are a small kind of reindeer, the elk, the moose, the horned 
bear, and the biped beaver. The last resembles the beaver of 
the earth in every other respect than in its destitution of a tail, 
and its invariable habit of walking upon only two feet. It 
carries its young in its arms like a human being, and mcfves 
with an easy, gliding motion. Its huts are constructed bettor 
and higher than those of many tribes of human savages, and 
from the appearance of smoke in nearly all of them, there is no 
doubt of its being acquainted with the use of fire. Still its 
head and body differ only in the points stated from that of the 
beaver, and it was never seen except on the borders of lakes 
and rivers, in which it has been observed to immerse for a 
period of several seconds. 

"'Thirty degrees farther south, is No. 11, or Cleomedes, au 
immense aimular mountain, containing three distinct craters, 
which have been so long extinguished that the whole valley 
around them, which is eleven miles in extent, is densely 
crowded with woods nearly to the summits of the hills. Not a 
rod of vacant land, except the tops of these craters, could be 
descried, and no living creature, except a large white bird re- 
sembling the stork. At the southern extremit}"^ of this valley 
is a natural archway or cavern, two hundred feet high, and one 
hundred wide, through which runs a river which discharges 
itself over a precipice of gray rock eighty feet in depth, and 
then forms a branching stream through a beautiful champaign 


district for many miles. Within twenty miles of this cataract 
is the largest lake, or rather inland sea, that has been found 
throughout the seven and a half millions of square miles ■which 
this illuminated side of the moon contains. Its width, from 
cast to west, is one huudred and ninety-eight miles, and from 
north to south, two hundred and sixty-six miles. Its shape, 
to the northward, is not unlike that of the Bay of Bengal, 
and it is studded with small islands, most of which are vol- 
canic. Two of these, on the eastern side, are now violently 
eruptive ; but our lowest magnifying power was too great to 
examine them with convenience, on account of the cloud of 
smoke and ashes which beclouded our field of view. As seen 
by Lieutenant Drummond, through our reflecting telescope of 
two thousand times, they exhibited great brilliancy. In a bay, 
on the western side of this sea, is an island fifty-five miles 
long, of a crescent form, crowded through its entire sweep 
with the most superb and wonderful natm-al beauties, both of 
vegetation and geology. Its hills are pinnacled with tall 
quartz crystals, of so rich a yellow and orange hue that we at 
first supposed them to be pointed flames of fire ; and they 
spring up thus from smooth, round brows of hills which are 
covered as with a velvet mantle. Even in the enchanting little_ 
valleys of this winding island- we could often see these splendid 
natural spires, mounting in the midst of deep-green woods, 
like church-steeples in the vales of Westmoreland. We here 
first noticed the lunar palm-tree, which differs from that of our 
tropical latitudes only in the peculiarity of very large crimson 
flowers, instead of the spadix protruded from the common 
calyx. We, however, perceived no fruit on any specimens we 
saw, — a circumstance which we attempted to account for from 
the great (theoretical) extremes in the lunar climate. On a 
curious kind of tree-melon we nevertheless saw fruit in great 
abundance, and in every stage of inception and maturity. 
The general color of these woods was a dark-green, though not 
withoflt occasional admixtures of every tint of our forest sea- 
sons. The hectic flush of autumn was often seen kindled upon 
the cheek of earliest spring ; and the gay drapery of summer 
in some places surrounded trees leafless as the victims of win- 


ter. It seemed as if all the seasons here united hands in a 
circle of perpetual harmony. Of animals we saw only an 
elegant striped, quadruped, about three feet high, like a minia- 
ture zebra, which was always in small herds on the green 
sward of the hills ; and two or three kinds of long-tailed birds, 
which we judged to be golden and blue pheasants. On the 
shores, however, we saw countless multitudes of univalve shell- 
fish, and among them some huge flat ones, which all three of 
my associates declared to be cornu ammoncE; and I confess I 
was here compelled to abandon my sceptical substitution of 
pebbles. The cliffs all along these shores were deeply under- 
mined by tides ; they were very cavernous, and yellow, crystal 
stalactites larger than a man's thigh were shooting forth on all 
sides. Indeed, every rood of this island appeared to be crys- 
tallized ; masses of fallen crystals were found on every beach 
we explored, and beamed from every fractured headland. It 
was more like a creation of an oriental fancy than a distant 
variety of nature brought by the powers of science to ocular 
demonstration. The striking dissimilitude of this island to 
every other we had found on these waters, and its near prox- 
imity to the main land, led us to suppose that it must at some 
time have been a part of it; more especially as its crescent 
bay embraced the first of a chain of smaller ones which ran 
directly thither. The first one was a pure quartz rock, about 
three miles in circumference, towering in naked majesty from 
the blue deep, without either shore or shelter. But it glowed 
in the sun almost like a sapphire, as did all the lesser ones of 
whom it seemed the king. Our theory was speedily con- 
firmed ; for all the shore of the main land was battlemented 
and spired with these unobtainable jewels of nature ; " and as 
we brought our field of view to include the utmost rim of the 
illuminated boundary of the planet, we could stiU see them 
blazing in crowded battalions as it were, through a region of 
hundreds of miles. In fact, we could not conjecture where 
this gorgeous land of enchantment terminated; for as the 
rotary motion of the planet bore these moimtain summits from 
our view, we became further remote from their western boun- 


We were admonished by this to lose no time in seeldng the 
next proposed ebject of our search,, the Langrenus, or No. 26, 
which is almost within the yerge of the libration in longitude, 
and of which, for this reason. Dr. Herschel entertaiaed some 
singular expectations. 

" 'After a short delay in advancing the observatory upon the 
levers, and in regulating the lens, we found our object and 
surveyed it. It was a dark, narrow lake, seventy miles long,, 
bounded, on the east, north, and west, by red mountains of the 
same character as those surrounding the Valley of the Unicorn, 
from which it is distant to the south-west about one hundred 
and sixty miles. This lake, like that valley, opens to the south 
upon a plain not more than ten miles wide, which is here encir- 
cled by a truly magnificent amphitheatre of the loftiest order 
of lunar hills. For a semicircle of six miles these hills are 
riven, from their brow to their base, as perpendicularly as the 
outer walls of the Colosseum at Eome ; but here exhibiting the 
sublime altitude of at least two thousand feet, in one smooth, 
unbroken surface. How nature disposed of the huge mass 
which she thus prodigally carved out, I know not ; but certain 
it is that there are no fragments of it left upon the plain, which 
is a declivity without a single prominence except a billowy 
tract of woodland that runs in many a wild vagary of breadth 
and course to the margin of the lake. The tremendous height 
and expansion of this perpendicular mountain, with its bright 
crimson front contrasted with the fringe of forest on its -brow, 
and the verdure of the open plain beneath, filled our canvas 
with a landscape unsurpassed in unique grandeur by any we had 
beheld. Our twenty-five miles' perspective included this re- 
markable mountain, the plain, a part of the lake, and the last 
graduated summits of the range of hills by which the latter is 
nearly surrounded. We ardently wished that all the world 
could view a scene so strangely grand, and our pulse beat high 
with the hope of one day exhibiting it to our countrymen in 
some part of our native land. But we were at length com- 
pelled to destroy our picture, as a whole, for the purpose of 
magnifying its parts for scientific inspection. Our plain was 
of course immediately covered with the ruby front of this 


raighty amphitheatre, its tall figures, leaping cascades, and 
rugged caverns. As its almost interminable s-weep was meas- 
ured off upon the canvas, we frequently saw long lines of some 
yellow metal hanging from the crevices of the horizontal strata 
in wild network, or straight pendant branches. We of course 
concluded that this was virgin gold, and we had no assay-mas- 
ter to prove to the contrary. On searching the plain, over 
which we had observed the woods roving in all the shapes of 
clouds in the sky, we were again delighted with the discovery 
of animals. The first observed was a quadruped with an 
amazingly long neck, head like a sheep, bearing two long 
spiral horns, white as polished ivory, and standing in perpen- 
dicular parallel to each other. Its body was like that of the 
deer, but its fore-legs were most disproportionally long, and 
its tail, which was very bushy and of a snowy whiteness, curled 
high over its rump, and hung two or three feet by its side. 
Its colors were bright bay and white in brindled patches, 
clearly defined, but of no regular form. It was found only in 
pairs, in spaces between the woods, and we had no opportunity 
of witnessing its speed or habits. But a few minutes only 
elapsed before three specimens of another animal appeared, so 
well known to us all that we fairly laughed at the recognition 
of so familiar an acquaintance in so distant a land. They were 
neither more nor less than three good large sheep, which would 
not have disgraced the farms of Leicestershire, or the shambles 
of Leadenhall market. With the utmost scrutiny, we could 
find no mark of distinction between these and those of oiur 
native soil ; they had not even the appendage over the eyes, 
which I have described as common to lunar quadrupeds. 
Presently they appeared in great numbers, and, on reducing the 
lenses, we found them in flocks over a great part of the valley. 
I need not say how desirous we were of finding shepherds to 
these flocks, and even a man with blue apron and roUed-up 
sleeves would have been a welcome sight to us, if not to the 
sheep ; but they fed in peace, lords of their own pastures, 
without either protector or destroyer in human shape. 

"'We at length approached the level opening to the lake, 
where the valley narrows to a mile in width, and displays 


scenery on both sides picturesque and romantic beyond the 
powers of a prose description. Imagination, borne on the 
wings of poetry, could alone gather similes to portray the wild 
sublimity of this landscape, where dark behemoth crags stood 
over the brows of lofty precipices, as if a rampart in the sky, 
and forests seemed suspended in mid-air. On the eastern side 
■ there was one soaring crag, crested with trees, which hung over 
in a curve like three-fourths of a Gothic arch, and, being of a 
rich crimson color, its effect was most strange upon minds 
unaccustomed- to the association of such grandeur with such 
beauty. • 

" ' But whilst gazing upon them in a perspective of about 
half a mile, we were thrilled with astonishment to perceive four 
successive flocks of large winged creatures, wholly unlike any 
kind of birds, descend with a slow, even motion from the cliffs 
on the western side, and alight upon the plain. They were 
first noticed by Dr. Herschel, who exclaimed, "Now, gentle- 
men, my theories against your proofs, which you have often 
found a pretty even bet, we have here something worth looking 
at. I was confident that if ever we found beings in human 
shape, it would be in this longitude, and that they would be 
provided by their Creator with some extraordinary powers of 
locomotion. First, exchange for my number D." This lens be- 
ing soon introduced, gave us a fine half-mile distance, and we 
counted three parties of these creatures, of twelve, nine, and 
fifteen in each, walking erect towards a small wood near the 
base of the eastern precipices. Certainly they loere like human 
beings, for their wings had now disappeared, and their attitude 
in walking was both erect and dignified. Having observed 
them at this distance for some minutes, \ye introduced lens 
H z, which brought them to the apparent proximity of eighty 
yards, — the highest clear magnitude we possessed until the lat- 
ter end of March, when we effected an improvement in the gas- 
burners. About half of the first party had passed beyond our 
canvas ; but of all the others we had a perfectly distinct and 
deliberate view. They averaged four feet in height, wore cov- 
ered, except on the face, with short and glossy copper-colored 
hair, and had wings composed of a thin membrane, without 


hair, lying snugly upon their backs, from the top of the shoul- 
ders to the calves of their legs. The face, which was of a yel- 
lowish flesh-color, was a slight improvement upon that of the 
large orang-outang, being more open and intelligent in its 
expression, and having a much greater expansion of forehead. 
The mouth, however, was very prominent, though somewhat 
relieved by a thick beard upon the lower jaw, and by lips far 
more human than those of any species of the simia genus. lu 
general symmetry of body and limbs they were infinitely 
superior to the orang-outang ; so much so, that, but for their 
long wings, Lieut. Drummond said they would look as well on 
a parade ground as some of the old cockney militia ! The hair 
on the head was a darker color than that of the body, closely 
curled, but apparently not woolly, and arranged in two curious 
semicircles over the temples of the forehead. Their feet could 
only be seen as they were alternately lifted in walking ; but, 
from what we could see of them in so transient a view, they 
appeared thin, and very protuberant at the heel. 

" ' Whilst passing across the canvas, and whenever we after- 
wards saw them, these creatures were evidently engaged in 
conversation ; their gesticulation, more particularly the varied 
action of their hands and arms, appeared impassioned and em- 
phatic. We hence infeiTed that they were rational beings, and, 
although not perhaps of so high an order as others which we 
discovered the next month on the shores of the Bay of Eain- 
bows, that they were capable of producing works of art and 
contrivance. The next view we obtained of them was still 
more favorable. It was on the borders of a little lake, or 
expanded stream, which we then for the first time perceived 
running down the valley to a large lake, and having on its 
eastern margin a small wood. 

"'Some of these creatures had crossed this water, and were 
lying like spread eagles on the skirts of the wood. We could 
then perceive that they possessed wings of great expansion, 
and were similar in structure to those of the bat, being a semi- 
transparent membrane expanded in curvilineal divisions by 
moans of straight radii, united at the back by the dorsal integ- 
lancuts. But what astonished us very much was the circum- 


stance of this membrane being continued, from the shoulders 
to the legs, united all the way down, though gradually decreas- 
ing in width. The wings seemed completely under the com- 
mand of volition, for those of the creatures whom we saw 
bathing in the water spread them instantly to their full width, 
waved them as diicks do theirs to shake off the water, and 
then as instantly closed them again in a compact form. Our 
further observation of the habits of these creatures, who were 
of both sexes, led to results so very remarkable, that I prefer 
they should first be laid before the public in Dr. Herschel's 
own work, where I have reason to know they are fully and 
faithfully stated, however incredulously they may be received. 

The three families then almost simultaneously 

spread their wings, and were lost in the dark confines of the 
canvas before we had time to breathe from our paralyzing 
astonishment. We scientifically denominated them the Vesper- 
tilio-homo, or man-bat; and they are doubtless innocent and 
happy creatures, notwithstanding that some of their amuse- 
ments would but ill comport with our terrestrial notions of 
decorum. The valley itself we called the Euby Colosseum, in 
compliment to its stupendous southern boundary, the six-mile 
sweep of precipices two thousand feet high. And the night, 
or rather morning, being far advanced, we postponed our tour 
to Petavius (No. 20) until another opportunity.' 

" We have, of course, faithfully obeyed Dr. Grant's private 
injunction to omit those highly curious passages in his corre- 
spondence which he wished us to suppress, although we do not 
perceive the force of the reason assigned for it. It is true, the 
omitted paragraphs contain facts which would be wholly in- 
credible to readers who do not carefully examine the principles 
and capacity of the instrument with which these marvellous 
discoveries have been made ; but so will nearly all of those 
which he has kindly permitted us to publish ; and it was for 
this reason that we considered the explicit description which 
we have given of the telescope so important a preliminary. 
From these, however, and other prohibited passages, which 
will be published by Dr. Herschel, with the certificates of the 
civil and military authorities of the colony, and of several 



Episcopal, Wesleyan, and other ministers, who, in the month 
of March last, were permitted, under stipulation of temporary 
secrecy, to visit the observatory, and become eye-witnesses of 
the wonders which they were requested to attest, we are confi- 
dent his forthcoming volumes will be at once the most sublime 
in science, and the most intense in general interest, that ever 
issued from the press. 

" The night of the fourteenth displayed the moon in her mean 
libration, or full ; but the somewhat humid state of the atmos- 
phere being for several hours less favorable to a minute in- 
spection than to a general survey of her surface, they were 
chiefly devoted to the latter purpose. But shortly after mid- 
night the last veil of mist was dissipated, and the sky being 
as lucid as on the former evenings, the attention of the astron- 
omers was arrested by the remarkable outlines of the spot 
^narked Tycho, No. 18, in Blunt's lunar chart; and in this re- 
gion they added treasures to human knowledge which angels 
might well desire to win. Many parts of the following extract 
will remain forever in the chronicles of time : — 

" ' The surface of the moon, when viewed in her mean libra- 
tion, even with telescopes of very limited power, exhibits three 
oceans, of vast breadth and circumference, independently of 
seven large collections of water, which may be denominated 
seas. Of inferior waters, discoverable by the higher classes of 
instruments, and usually called lakes, title number is so great 
that no attempt has yet been made to count them. Indeed, 
such a task would be almost equal to that of enumerating the 
annular mountains which are found upon every part of her sur- 
face, whether composed of land or water. The largest of the 
three oceans occupies a considerable portion of the hemisphere 
between the line of her northern axis and that of her eastern 
equator, and even extends many degrees south of the latter. 
Throughout its eastern boundary it so closely approaches that 
of the lunar sphere, as to leave in many places merely a fringe 
of illuminated mountains, which are here, therefore, strongly 
contra-distinguished from the dark and shadowy aspect of the 
great deep. But peninsulas, promontories, capes, and islands, 
and a thousand other terrestrial figures, for which we can find 


no names in the poverty of our geographical nomenclature, 
are found expahding, sallying forth, or glowing in insular inde- 
pendence, through all the "billowy boundlessness" of this 
magnificent ocean. One of the most remarkable of these is a 
promontory, without a name, I believe, in the lunar charts, 
which starts from an island district denominated Copernicus, 
by the old astronomers, and abounding, as we eventually dis- 
covered, with great natural curiosities. This promontory is 
indeed most singular. Its nortliern extremity is shaped much 
like an imperial crown, having a swelling bow, divided and 
tied down in its centre by a band of hills, which is united with 
its forehead band or base. The two open spaces formed by 
this division are two lakes, each eighty miles wide ; and at the 
foot of these, divided from them by the band of hills last men- 
tioned, is another lake, larger than the two put together, and 
nearly perfectly square. This one is followed, after another 
hilly division, by a lake of an irregular form ; and this one yet 
again, by two narrow ones, divided longitudinally, which are 
attenuated northward to the main land. Thus this skeleton 
promontory of mountain ridges runs three hundred and ninety- 
six miles into the ocean, with six capacious lakes enclosed 
within its stony ribs. Blunt's excellent lunar chart gives this 
great work of nature with wonderful fidelity, and I think you 
might accompany my description with an engraving from it, 
much to your readers' satisfaction. (See Plate 4.) 

" ' Next to this, the most remarkable formation in this ocean 
is a strikingly brilliant annular mountain of immense altitude 
and circumference, standing three hundred and thirty miles 
E.S.E., commonly known as Aristarchus (No. 12), and 
marked in the chart as a large mountain, with a great cavity in 
its centre. That cavity is now, as it was probably wont to be 
in ancient ages, a volcanic crater, awfully rivalKng our Mounts 
Etna and Vesuvius, in the most terrible epochs of their reign. 
Unfavorable as the state of the atmosphere was to close exam- 
ination, we could easily mark its illumination of the water over 
a circuit of sixty miles. If we had before retained any doubt 
of the power of lunar volcanoes to throw fragments of their 
craters so far beyond the moon's attraction that they would 


necessarily gravitate to this earth, aud thus account for the 
multitude of massive aerolites which have fallen and been 
found upon our surface, the view which we had of Aristarchus 
would have set our skepticism forever at rest. This mountain, 
however, though standing three hundred miles in the ocean, is 
not absolutely insular, for it is connected with the main land 
by four chains of mountains, which branch from it as a common 

"' The next great ocean is situated on the western side of the 
meridian line, divided nearly in the midst by the line of the 
equator, and is about nine hundred miles in north and south 
extent. It is marked C in the catalogue, and was fancifully 
called the Mare Tranquillitatis. It is rather two large seas 
than one ocean, for it is narrowed just under the equator by a 
strait not more than one hundred miles wide. Only three an- 
nular islands of a large size, and quite detached from its 
shores, are to be found within it ; though several subhme vol- 
canoes exist on its northern boundary; one of the most stu- 
pendous of which is within one hundred and twenty miles of 
the Mare Nectaris before mentioned. Immediately contiguous 
to this second great ocean, and separated from it only by a 
concatenation of dislocated continents and islands, is the third, 
marked D, and known as the Mare Serenitatis. It is nearly 
square, being about three hundred and thirty miles in length 
and width. But it has one. most extraordinary peculiarity, 
which is a perfectly straight ridge of hills, certainly not more 
than five miles wide, which starts in a direct line from its 
southern to its northern shore, dividing it exactly in the midst. 
This singular ridge is perfectly sui generis, being altogether 
unlike any mountain chain either on this earth or on the moon 
itself. It is so very keen, that its great concentration of the 
solar light renders it visible to small telescopes ; but its char- 
acter is so strikingly peculiar, that we could not resist the 
temptation to depart from our predetermined adherence to a 
general survey, and examine it particularly. Our lens G x 
brought it within the small distance of eight hundred yards, 
and its whole width of four or five miles snugly within that of 
our canvas. Nothing that we had hitherto seen more highly 


excited our astonishment. Believe it or believe it not, it was 
one entire crystallization ! Its edge, throughout its whole 
length of three hundred and forty miles, is an acute angle' of 
solid quartz crystal, brilliant as a piece of Derbyshire spar just 
brought from a mine, and containing scarcely a fracture or a 
chasm from end . to end ! What a prodigious influence must 
our thirteen times larger globe have exercised upon this satel- 
lite, when an embryo in the womb of time, the passive subject 
of chemical affinity ! "We found that wonder and astonishment, 
as excited by objects in this distant world, were but modes 
and attributes of ignorance, which should give place to ele- 
vated expectations, and to reverential confidence in the illimit- 
able power of the Creator. 

" ' The dark expanse of waters to the south of the first great 
ocean has often been considered a forth ; but we found it to 
be merely a sea of the first class, entirely surrounded by land, 
and much more encumbered with promontories and islands 
than it has been exhibited in any lunar chart. One of its prom- 
ontories runs from the vicinity of Pitatus (No. 19), in a 
slightly curved and very narrow line, to Bullialdus (No. 22), 
which is merely a circular head to it, two hundred and sixty- 
four miles from its starting-place. This is another mountain- 
ous ring, a marine volcano, nearly burnt out, and slumbering 
upon its cinders. But Pitatus, standing upon a bold cape of 
the southern shore, is apparently exulting in the might and 
majesty of its fibres. The atmosphere being now quite free 
from vapor, we introduced the magnifiers to examine a large, 
bright circle of hills which sweep close beside the western 
abutments of this flaming mountain. The hills were either of 
snow-white marble, or semi-transparent crystal, we could not 
distinguish which, and they bounded another of those lovely 
green valleys, which, however monotonous in my descriptions, 
are of paradisaical beauty and fertility, and like primitive Eden 
in the bliss of their inhabitants. Dr. Herschel here again 
predicated another of his sagacious theories. He said the 
proximity of the flaming mountain, Bullialdus, must be so great 
a local convenience to dwellers in this valley during the long 
periodical absence of solar light, as to render it a place of 


populous resort for the iuhabitants of all the adjacent ragions, 
more especially as its bulwark of hills afforded an infallible se- 
curity against any volcanic eruption that could occur. We 
therefore applied our full power to explore it, and rich indeed 
was our reward. 

" ' The very first object in this valley that appeared upon our 
canvas was a magnificent work of art. It was a temple — a 
fane of devotion, or of science, which, when consecrated to the 
Creator, is devotion of the loftiest order ; for it exhibits his 
attributes purely free from the masquerade, attire, and blasphe- 
mous caricature of controversial creeds, and has the seal and 
signature of his own hand to sanction its aspirations. It was 
an equitriangular temple, built of polished sapphire, or of some 
resplendent blue stone, which, like it, displayed a myriad 
points of golden light twinkling and scintillating in the sun- 
beams. Our canvas, though fifty feet in diameter, was too 
limited to receive more than a sixth part of it at one view, and 
the first part that appeared was near the centre of one of its 
sides, being three square columns, six feet in diameter at the 
base, and gently tapering to a height of seventy feet. The 
intercolumniations were each twelve feet. We instantly re- 
duced oiu- magnitude, so as to embrace the whole structiire in 
one view, and then indeed it was most beautiful. The roof 
was composed of some yellow metal, and divided into three 
compartments, which were not triangular planes inclining to 
•the centre, but subdivided, curbed, and separated, so as to 
present a mass of violently agitated flames rising from a com- 
mon source of conflagration and terminating in wildly waving 
points. This design was too manifest, and too skilfully exe- 
cuted to be mistaken for a single moment. Through a few 
openings in these metallic flames we perceived a large sphere 
of a darker kind of metal nearly of a clouded copper color, 
which they enclosed and seemingly raged around, as if hiero- 
glyphically consuming it. This was the roof; but upon each 
of the three corners there was a small sphere of apparently the 
same metal as the large centre one, and these rested iipon a 
kind of cornice, quite new in any order of architecture with 
which we are acquainted, but nevertheless exceedingly grace- 


ful and impressive. It was like a half- opened scroll, swelling 
off boldly from the roof, and hanging far over the walls in sev- 
eral convolutions. It was of the same metal as the flames, 
and on each side of the building it was open at both ends. 
The columns, six on each side, were simply plain shafts, with- 
out capitals or pedestals, or any description of ornament ; nor 
was any perceived in other parts of the edifice. It was open 
on each side, and seemed to contain neither seats, altars, nor 
offermgs ; but it was a light and airy structure, nearly a hun- 
dred feet high from its white glistening floor to its glowing 
roof, and it stood upon a round green eminence on. the eastern 
side of the valley. We afterwards, however, discovered two 
others, which were in every respect fac-similes of this one ; 
but in neither did we perceive any visitants besides flocks of 
wild doves which alighted upon its lustrous pinnacles. Had 
the devotees of these temples gone the way of all living, or 
were the latter merely historical monuments ? What did the 
ingenious builders mean by the globe surrounded by flames ? 
Did they by this record any past calamity of thdr world, or 
predict any future one of owrs? I by no means despair of ulti- 
mately solving not only these but a thousand other questions 
which present themselves respecting the objects in this planet ; 
for not the millionth part of her surface has yet been explored, 
and we have been more desirous of collecting the greatest pos- 
sible number of. new facts, than of indulging in speculative 
theories, however seductive to the imagination. 

"'But we had not far to seek for inhabitants of this "Vale of 
the Triads." Immediately on the outer border of the wood 
which surrounded, at the distance of half a mile, the eminence 
on which the first of these temples stood, we saw several de- 
tached assemblies of beings whom we instantly recognized to 
be of the same species as our winged friends of the Ruby 
Colosseum near the Lake Langrenus. Having adjusted the 
instrument for a minute examination, we found that nearly all 
the individuals in these groups were of a larger stature than 
the former specimens, less dark in color, and in every respect an 
improved variety of the race. They were chiefly engaged in 
eating a large yellow fruit like a gourd, sections of which they 


divided with their fingers, and ate with rather uncouth vorac- 
ity, throwing away the rind. A smaller red fruit, shaped like 
a cucumber, which we had often seen pendant from trees hav- 
ing a broa:d dark leaf, was also lying in heaps in the centre of 
several of the festive groups ; but the only use they appeared 
to make of it was sucking its juice, after rolling it between the 
palms of their hands and nibbling off an end. They seemed 
eminently happy, and even polite, for we saw, in many in- 
stances, individuals sitting nearest these piles of fruit, select 
the largest and brightest specimens, and throw them archwise 
across the circle to some opposite friend or associate who had 
extracted the nutriment from those scattered around him, and 
which were frequently not a few. While thus engaged in their 
rural banquets, or in social converse, they were always seated 
with their knees flat upon the turf, and their feet brought 
evenly together in the form of a triangle. And for some mys- 
terious reason or other this figure seemed to be an especial 
favorite among them ; for we found that every group or social 
circle arranged itself in this shape before it dispersed, which 
was generally done at the signal of an individual who stepped 
into the centre and brought his hands over his head in an acute 
angle. At this signal, each member of the company extended 
his arms forward so as to form an acute horizontal angle with 
the extremity of the fingers. But this was not the only proof 
we had that they were creatures of order and subordination. 

We had no opportunity of seeing them actually 

engaged in any work of industry or art ; and so far as we 
could judge, they spent their happy hours in collecting various 
fruits in the woods, in eating, flying, bathing, and loitering 

about upon the summits of precipices But although 

evidently the highest order of animals in this rich valley, they 
were not its only occupants. Most of the other animals which 
we had discovered elsewhere, in very distant regions, were 
collected here ; and also at least eight or nine new species of 
quadrupeds. The most attractive of these was a tall, white 
stag, with lofty, spreading antlers, black as ebony. We sev- 
eral tjmes saw this elegant creature trot up to the seated par- 
ties of the semi-human beings I have described, and browse 


the herbage close beside them, without the least manifestation 
of fear on its part or notice on theirs. The universal state of 
amity am^ng all classes of lunar creatures, and the apparent 
absence of every carnivorous or ferocious species, gave us the 
most refined pleasure, and doubly endeared to us this lovely 
nocturnal companion of our larger, but less favored, world. 
Ever again when I "eye the blue vault and bless the useful 
light," shall I recall the scenes of beauty, grandeur, and felic- 
ity I have beheld upon her surface, not "as through a glass 
darkly, but face to face ; " and never shall I think of that line 
of our thrice noble poet, 

" Meek Diana's crest 

Sails through the azure air, an island of the blest," 

without exulting in my knowledge of its truth.' 

" "With the careful inspection of this instructive valley, and 
a scientific classification of its animal, vegetable, and mineral 
productions, the astronomers closed their labors for the night, — 
labors rather mental than physical, and oppressive, from the 
extreme excitement which they naturally induced. A singular 
circumstance occurred the next day, which threw the telescope 
quite out of use for nearly a week, by which time the moon 
could be no longer observed that month. The great lens, which 
was usually lowered during the day, and placed horizontally, 
had, it is true, been lowered as usual, but had been inconsider- 
ately left in a -pei-pendicular position. Accordingly, shortly 
after sunrise the next morning, Dr. Herschel and his assistants. 
Dr. Grant and Messrs. Drummond and Home, who slept in a 
bungalow erected a short distance from the observatory circle, 
were awakened by the loud shouts of some Dutch farmers and 
domesticated Hottentots (who were passing with their oxen to 
agricultural labor) , that the ' big house ' was on fire ! Dr. 
Herschel leaped out of bed from his brief slumbers, and, sure 
enough, saw his observatory enveloped in a cloud of smoke. 

" Luckily it had been thickly covered, within and without, 
with a coat of Roman plaster, or it would inevitably have been 
destroyed with all its invaluable contents ; but, as it was, a 
hole fibfteen feet in circumference had been burnt completely 


through the 'reflecting chamber,' which was attached to the 
side of the observatory nearest the lens, through the canvas 
field on which had been exhibited so many wonders that will 
ever live in the history of mankind, and through the outer wall. 
So fierce was the concentration of the solar rays through the 
gigantic lens, that a clump of trees standing in a line with them 
was set on fire, and the plaster of the observatory walls, all 
round the orifice, was vitrified to blue glass. The lens being 
almost immediately turned, and a brook of water being within 
a few hundred yards, the fire was soon extinguished, but the 
damage already done was not inconsiderable. The microscope 
lenses had fortunately been removed for the purpose of being 
cleaned, but several of the metallic reflectors were so fused as 
to be rendered useless. Masons and carpenters were procured 
from Cape Town with all possible despatch, and in about a week 
the whole apparatus was again prepared for operation. 

" The moon being now invisible Dr. Herschel directed his 
inquiries to the primary planets of the system, and first to the 
planet Saturn. We need not say that this remarkable globe 
has for many ages been an object of the most ardent astronomi- 
cal curiosity. The stupendous phenomenon of its double ring 
having bafilcd the scrutiny and conjecture of many generations 
of astronomers, was finally abandoned as inexplicable. It is 
well known that this planet is stationed in the system nine 
hundred millions of miles distant from the sun, and that having 
the immense diameter of seventy-nine thousand miles, it is 
more than nine hundred times larger than the earth. Its annual 
motion round the sun is not accomplished in less than twenty- 
nine and a half of our years, whilst its diurnal rotation upon its 
axis is accomplished in lOh. 16m., or considerably less than 
half a terrestrial day. It has not less than seven moons, the 
sixth and the seventh of which were discovered by the elder 
Herschel in 1789. It is thwarted by mysterious belts or bands" 
of a yellowish tinge, and is surrounded by ?, double ring — the 
outer one of which is two hundred and four thousand miles in 
diameter. The outside diameter of the inner ring is one hun- 
dred and eighty-four thousand miles, and the breadth of the 
outer one being seven thousand two hundred miles, the space 

A HISTOET Of newspaper HOAXES. 315 

between them is twenty-eight thousand miles. The breadth of 
the inner ring is much greater than that of the other, being 
twenty thousand miles; and its distance from the body of 
Saturn is more than thirty thousand. These rings are opaque, 
but so thin that their edge has not until now been discovered. 
Sir John Herschel's most interesting discovery with regard to 
this planet is the demonstrated fact that these two rings are 
composed of the fragments of two destroyed worlds, formerly 
belonging to our solar system, and which, on being exploded, 
were gathered around the immense body of Saturn by the 
attraction of gravity, and yet kept from falling to its surface 
by the great centrifugal force created by its extraordinary 
rapidity on its axis. The inner ring was therefore the first of 
these destroyed worlds (the former station of which in the sys- 
tem is demonstrated- in the argument which we subjoin) , which 
was accordingly carried round by the rotary force, and spread 
forth in the manner we see. The outer ring is another world 
exploded in fragments, attracted by the law of gravity as in the 
former case, and kept from uniting with the inner ring by the 
centrifugal force of the latter. But the latter, having a slower 
rotation than the planet, has an inferior centrifugal force, and 
accordingly the space between the outer and inner ring is 
nearly ten times less than that between the inner ring and the 
body of Saturn. Having ascertained the mean density of the 
rings, as compared with the density of the planet. Sir John 
Herschel has been enabled to effect the following beautiful 
demonstration. [Which w& omit, as too mathematical for 
popular comprehension. — Ed. Sun.'] 

"Dr. Herschel clearly ascertained that these rings are com- 
posed of rocky strata, the skeletons of former globes, lying in a 
state of wild and ghastly confusion, butnot devoid of mountains 

and seas The belts across the body of Saturn he has 

discovered to be the smoke of a number of immens^ volcanoes, 
carried in these straight lines by the extreme velocity of the 

rotary motion [And these also he has ascertained 

to be the belt of Jupiter. But the portion of the work which is 
devoted to this subject, and to the other planets, as also that 
which describes the astronomer's discoveries among the stars, 


is comparatively uninteresting to general readers, however 
liighly it might interest others of scientific taste and mathemati- 
cal acquirements. — Ed. 8un.'\ 

. . . . "'It was not until the new moon of the month of 
March, that the weather proved favorable to any continued 
series of lunar observations ; and Dr. Herschel had been too 
enthusiastically absorbed in demonstrating his brilliant dis- 
coveries in the southern constellations, and in constructing 
tables and catalogues of his new stars, to avail himself of the 
few clear nights which intervened. 

"'On one of these, however, Mr. Drummond, myself, and 
Mr. Holmes, made those discoveries near the Bay of Eainbows, 
to which I have somewhere briefly alluded. The bay thus fan- 
cifully denominated is a part of the northern boundary of the 
first great ocean which I have lately described, and is marked 
in the chart with the letter O. The tract of country which we 
explored on this occasion is numbered 6, 5, 8, 7, in the cata- 
logue, and the chief mountains to which these numbers are at- 
tached are severally named Atlas, Hercules, Heraclides Verus, 
and Heraclides Falsus. Still farther to the north of these is 
the island circle called Pythagoras, and numbered 1 ; and yet 
nearer the meridian line is the mountainous district marked R, 
and called the Land of Drought, and Q, the Land of Hoar 
Frost ; and certainly the name of the latter, however theoreti- 
cally bestowed, was not altogether inapplicable, for the tops of 
its very lofty mountains were evidently covered with snow, 
though the valleys surrounding them were teeming with the 
luxuriant fertility of midsummer. But the region which we 
first particularly inspected was that of Heraclides Falsus (No. 
7), in which we found several new specimens of animals, all of 
which were horned and of a white or gray color ; and the re- 
mains of three ancient triangular temples which had long been 
in ruins. We thence traversed the country south-eastward, 
until we arrived at Atlas (No. 6), and it was in one of the 
noble valleys at the foot of this mountain that we found the 
very superior species of the Vespertilio-homo. In stature they 
did not exceed those last described, but they were of infinitely 
greater personal beauty, and appeared in our eyes scarcely less 


lovely than the general representations of angels by the more 
imaginative schools of painters. Their social economy seemed 
to be regulated by laws or ceremonies exactly like those pre- 
vailing in the Vale of the Triads, but their works of art were 
more numerous, and displayed a proficiency of skill quite in- 
credible to all except actual observers. I shall, therefore, let 
the first detailed account of them appear in Dr. Herschel's au- 
thenticated natural history of this planet.' 

" [This concludes the Supplement, with the exception of 
forty pages of illustrative and mathematical notes, which 
would greatly enhance the size and price of this work, without 
commensurably adding to its general interest. — Ed. Sun.Y 

This was the whole of the " Moon Hoax," which, in its day, 
created much speculation and wonder. 

TwENTT-PiVE years ago the word " Roorback " was a rallying 
cry in a Presidential campaign. When it had served its pur- 
pose, it passed into tradition, as a phrase which comparatively 
few persons could absolutely define. This hoax came about in 
a quiet way. In September, 1844, a small sheet, published in 
the Whig interest in the town of Ithaca, JSTew York, and called 
The Chronicle, published the following note,with the appended 
spurious extract from a book of travels purporting to have been 
written by an Englishman named Featherstonhaugh : — 


"Mb. Spenceb: — Will you have the goodness to Insert in your paper the 
following extract from Roorback's ' Tour Through the Western and Southern 
States In 1836 ' ? This work has received the approbation of every American 
critic, not only for its graphic descriptions of scenery, but for its candid and 
impartial remarks on men and manners. Amidst the present turmoil and 
fanaticism of politics, I would furnish a statement made long before the 
contagion reached us, when there could bo no inducement to disguise the 
truth, or publish falsehood. An Abolitionist. 


" Just as we reached the Duck Eiver in the early gray of the morning, we 
came up with a singular spectacle, the most striking one of the kind I have 
ever witnessed. It was a camp of negro slave-drivers, just packing up to 
start. They had about three hundred slaves with them, who had bivouacked 
the preceding night in chains in the woods ; these they were conducing into 


Natchez, on the Missisisippl River, to work upon the sugar plantations in 
Louisiana. It resembled one of the coffles of slaves spoken of by Mungo 
Park, except that they had a caravan of nine wagons and single-horse car- 
riages for the purpose of conducting the white people, and any of the blacks 
that should fall lame, to which they were now putting the horses to pursue 
their march. The female slaves were some of them sitting on logs of wood, 
wliilst others were standing, and a great many little black children were 
warming themselves by the fire of the bivouac. In front of them all, and 
prepared for the march, stood in double flies about two hundred male slaves, 
manacled, and chained to each other. I had never seen so revolting a sight 
before! Black men in fetters, torn from the lands where they were born, 
from the ties they had formed, and from the comparatively easy condition 
which agricultural labor afl'ords, and driven by white men, with liberty and 
equality in their months, to a distant and unhealthy country, to perish in the 
sugar-mills of Louisiana, where the duration of life for a sugar-mill slave 
does not exceed seven years. Forty-three of these unfortunate beings had 
been purchased, I was informed, of the Hon. J. K. Polk, the present Speaker of 
the House of Representatives ; the mark of the branding-iron, with the initials 
of his name on their shoulders, distinguishing them from the rest." 

The curious part of this forgery was the ingenuity with 
which the actual words of the English traveller were used as a 
setting. Part of the foregoing extract is a veritable copy of a 
passage in a genuine book of travels, written by an Euglish- 
man named Featherstonhaugh , — but the words in italics are 
all interpolated. Where the Roorback forgery reads "Duck 
Eiver," the genuine book says "New Eiver;" and the con- 
cluding passage is pure invention. 

The Ithaca Chronicle's pretended extract was eagerly copied 
into the Albany Evening Journal on Monday, September 16, 
1844, and Thurlow Weed made the most of its revelations as a 
document for the campaign. First displaying the forgery in 
large type, with obtrusive head-lines, the Evening Journal 
added to it this allusion to the Opposition candidate for the 
Presidency : — 

" This same James K. Polk, whose- manacled bondsmen were seen by the 
Tourist in 1836, on their way to die in the sugar-mills of Louisiana, with 


«l ■ !%■ f^af 

BURNT INTO THEIR FLESH, is HOW the Democratic candidate for the Presiden- 
cy of IJe United States! According to all accounts, he treats the poor 


Africans whom he owns no better now than he did then, for we are told 
that he hires them out by the weelj, month, or year, as we at the North hire 
out cattle to our neighbors, to labor for stipulated sums, which are paid to 
him. If they are sent oflf from his plantation to different portions of Ten- 
nessee, it is not at all unlikely that they carry the initials of their master's 
name burnt with the branding-iron into their shoulders, and are all marked 
as shepherds mark their flocks. And these poor, branded slaves of James 
K. Polk's, are human beings ! " 

This was a bomb-shell in the Democratic camp. The New 
York Evening Post, of September 23d (then a Democratic 
paper) , denounced it as " an atrocious fraud ; '' and the Albany 
Argus took much pains to find a copy of the genuine " Tour 
Through the Western and Southern States " (issued in 1834, 
not 1836) , and, by publishing the real and pretended passages 
in parallel columns, fully exposed the fraud. The Argus 
added : " Mr. Featherstonhaugh makes no mention of Speaker 
Polk, for the reason that when he wrote Governor Polk was 
not Speaker." This was true. John Bell was Speaker of the 
House in 1834. 

The New York American, one of the Whig journals which 
had copied the story, made a retraction after this exposure, 
and wound up its apology with the emphatic statement that 
the interpolation of the passage in question was a "forgery 
which would hardly be adequately punished by branding liar 
and forger on the forehead of the scoundrel who perpetrated 

Polk was elected; and the "Koorback hoax" passed into 


Wall Street has been responsible for numberless rascali- 
ties, and still preserves its reputation for ingenious diabolism. 
" Corners " are made, brokers steal bonds, stocks are 
" watered," honest men cheated, and widows and orphans left 
penniless, — all to put money into the pockets of shrewd specu- 
lators, who are sometimes pillars of the Church, or founders of 
religious institutions, and who 

" Compound for sins they are inclined to, 
By damning those they have no mind to." 


But nothing worse was ever done for purposes of speculation — 
all the circumstances of the time being considered — than the 
spurious Proclamation, purporting to have been issued by Pres- 
ident Lincoln, which appeared in three morning papers in New 
York on the 18th of May, 1864. It was published at a critical 
period in the War, when foreign intervention was continually 
feared, and when tlie government needed the cordial aid of 
every loyal press and every loyal man. The papers which 
gave it currency were the Journal of Commerce, the World 
and the Herald. The Times and Tribune, with editors 
shrewdly suspicious, refused to print it. Yet the manner in 
which this hoax found its way into print lent it the color of 
truth. It was furnished to all the morning papers in New 
York at a late hour of the night, written upon the thin sheets 
of oiled tissue-paper used in the office of the Associated 
Press, and known to newspaper men as "manifold." It ap- 
parently came through the regular channels, and the night- 
editors of three newspapers, deceived by its air of genuine- 
ness, accepted it without question, and published it. 

In this spurious document, the President was made to say 
these doleful words : — 

" Executive Mansion, > 
" May 17, 1864. 5 
" Fellow- Citizens of the United, States: — 

" In all seasons of exigency, it becomes a nation carefully to scrutinize its 
line of conduct, humbly to approach the throne of grace, and meekly to im- 
plore forgiveness, wisdom, and guidance. 

" For reasons known only to Him, It has been decreed that this country 
should be the scene of unparalleled outrage, and this nation the monumental 
sufferer of the Nineteenth Century. With a heavy heart, but an undiminished con- 
fidence in our cause, I approach the performance of a duty rendered imperative 
by my sense of weakness before the Almighty, and of justice to the people. 

" It is necessary that I should tell you that the first Virginia campaign, 
under Lieut. Gen. Grant, In whom I have every confidence, and whose 
courage and fidelity the people do well to honor, is virtually closed. He has 
conducted his great enterprise with discreet ability. He has crippled their 
strength and defeated their plans. 

" In view, however, of the situation in Virginia, the disaster at Bed Biver, the 
delay at Charleston, and the general state of the country, I, Abraham Lincoln, do 
hereby recommend that Thursday, the 2Gth day of May, A.D., 1864, be sol- 
emnly set apart throughout these United States as a day of fasting, humilia- 
tion, andprayer. 

" Deeming furthermore that the present condition of public affairs presents 


an extraordinary occasion, and in view of the pending expiration of the ser- 
vice of (100,000) one hundred thousand of our troops, I, Abraham Lincoln, 
President of the United States, by virtue of the power vested in me by the 
Constitution and the laws, have thought fit to call forth, and hereby do call 
forth, the citizens of the United States, between the ages of (18) eighteen and 
(45) forty-five years, to the aggregate number of (400,000) four hundred thou- 
sand, in order to suppress the existing rebellious combinations, and to cause 
the due execution of the laws. 

" And, furthermore, in case any State, or number of States, shall fail to 
furnish, by the fifteenth day of June next, their assigned quota, it is hereby 
ordered that the same be raised by an immediate and peremptory draft. 

" The details for this object will be communicated to the State authorities 
through the War Department. 

" I appeal to all loyal citizens to favor, facilitate, and aid this effort to main- 
tain the honor, the integrity, and the existence of the Kational Union, and the 
perpetuity of popular government. 

" In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, and caused the seal of the 
United States to be affixed. Done at the City of Washington this 17th 
day of May, one thousand eight hundred and sixty- four, and of the indepen- 
dence of the United States the eighty-eighth. 
" By the President, 

" Abraham Lincoln. 
" Wm. H. Sewakd, Secretary of State." 

The fact was, tliat at the time this proclamation appeared, 
Grant had driven the enemy in Virginia, and Sherman was 
gaining ground in the south-west. Our armies had never been 
in so good condition. The rebellion, as subsequent events 
proved, was in reality in its death-throe ; and although the 
varying fortunes of war had brought us disaster as well as vic- 
tory, the hope of an early subjugation of the foe had taken a 
strong hold upon the loyal men of the North. This hope was 
well founded; for Lee surrendered to Grant eleven months 
later, — in April, 1865. 

The forgers chose their time with skill. The hoax was put out 
on Tuesday night ; Wednesday was steamer day. The Cunard 
ship was departing for her voyage, when she was overhauled 
by a revenue-cutter, despatched by the Collector of the port, 
and when she had again got under way, she bore the antidote 
to the poison, — a telegraphic message from Secretary Seward, 
branding the document as a forgery. Two ingenious ne-vys- 
paper men,* who had done the work, were summarily caught 

* Howard and Mallison, of the Brooklyn Eagle. 


and immured iu Fort Lafayette ; whence they emerged, a few 
months later, wiser and sadder than when they went in. 

The war produced sevei-al other hoaxes ; one of which was a 
spurious Herald Extra, prematurely announcing the " Capture 
of Mobile, with eight thousand prisoners, one hundred and 
thirty cannon, and four hundred thousand bales of cotton ! " 
and this made a brief sensation. False rumors of successes and 
defeats were of daily occurrence ; but the Proclamation forgery 
was the only deliberate and mischievous hoax, and the only one 
which had more than an ephemeral existence. 

In time of peace, newspaper hoaxes are of the mild type, — 
inoffensive affairs, which please the fancy of the reader, or 
justify the employment of capital letters in three-line head- 
ings. Of this class are the stories of wild men prowling in the 
woods, of sea-serpents disporting in the placid waters of re- 
mote lakes, of marvellous discoveries of hidden treasures, or 
of revelations of ancient relics, — all of which may be taken 
with grains of salt. 

IfL-C'sA^'LX) L^J-cK.\^L^ UVXA^^AX^ O^-^vlyi^ C" 

I'ncsiniile ofVi Lett(n:froin\lr.Ravinoi](i. 







In the preparation of these pages, the progress of Journal- 
ism in New York has been traced, from its comparatively low 
state a generation ago, to and through the periods marked 
by signal improvements in style and quality. It has been 
shown that the disadvantages under which the newspapers 
of 1840 were conducted did not preclude outbursts of enter- 
prise ; that the younger journals of that day were in the habit 
of startling the town with novel e^rts ; that the gradual in- 
crease of newspaper readers created a demand for a cheaper 
Press than that with which New York had been content for 
the previous century ; that this new phase of Journalism 
widened and grew stronger as the years advanced, and the 
appetite of the public grew keener ; that the call for a fresher 
and better quality of newspaper literature brought forth the 
Times, — and that the success of the venture, in which Mr. 
Eaymond and his friends embarked, was assured from the out- 
set by a combination of circumstances, which are now fully 
revealed. The career of Mr. Eaymond, as an editor and a 
politician, has been followed, step by step ; and the dilatory 
verdict in which his old. enemies did justice to his character 
has been duly recorded. Some account of the inner life of 
Journalism — the anecdotes, the humors, and the hoaxes, for 
which it is noted — has also been given. 

We now come to consider the Press of to-day. 

All the causes operative in the earlier history of Journal- 
ism in New York, which produced such radical changes. 


are in existence now. The field for the display of skill, judg- 
ment, and activity still gi-ows wider, as cities expand, and 
lines of intercommunication ramify, and civilization ad- 
vances into regions which were yesterday tracts of uninhabited 
wilderness. The public appetite, too, is becoming fastidious. 
That which contented thousands, thirty years ago, would not 
now please a score. That which was permissible, ten years ago, 
is now regarded as wholly unsatisfactory. The older time, 
when an editorial utterance in' behalf of a party was accepted 
as oracular by the members of that party, was long since 
changed into the skeptical and questioning. The newspaper 
is gradually ceasing to reflect individual opinion, and gradually 
becoming naore, catholic in its general tone. The cost of pub- 
lication has quadrupled since the first years of the Tribune and 
the Herald; the expenditure in all departments of the daily 
journals of New York this year is greater than that which 
was considered extravagant in 1860 ; the prices paid to the 
professional journalist are now more accordant with the quality 
of the work performed ; and the general scope of Journalism 
is broader and grander than ever before. 

Thirty years ago, the Chief Editor of a newspaper in New 
York rarely employed more than two or three assistants. 
Limited capital, small circulation, cheap advertising, all forbade 
great outlay. Editors were reporters and editors alternately ; 
and their' emoluments were not commensurate with the labors 
required of them. If the assistant, after hard application for 
a week, received his pay promptly at its close, he counted him- 
self fortunate. If the proprietors made a small profit at the end 
of the year, that year was marked with a white stone in their 
calendar. If the subscribers to a paper adhered to it, without 
interruption, for a twelvemonth, the fact was taken as evidence 
of the singular popularity of its conductors. Those days were 
days of hardship, of doubt, and of small retui-ns for literary 

But the lapse of thirty years has changed every phase of 
newspaper life. Each of the great daily pajaers of New York 
to-day employs more than a hundred men, in different depart- 
ments, and expends half a million of dollars annually, with less 


concern to the proprietors than an outlaj^ of one-quarter of that 
sum would have occasioned in 1840. The editorial corps of the 
morning papers issued in New York on the first day of the 
present year numbered at least half a score of persons ; the 
reporters were in equal force ; sixty printers and eight or ten 
pressmen were employed to put in type and to print the con- 
tents of each issue of the paper ; twenty carriers conveyed the 
printed sheet to its readers ; and a dozen mailing clerks and 
book-keepers managed the business details of each establish- 
ment. Editorial salaries now range from twenty-five dollars 
to sixty dollars a week ; reporters receive from twenty dollars 
to thirty dollars a week ; and the gross receipts of a great daily 
paper for a year often reach the sum of one million of dollars, 
of which an average of one-third is clear profit. These sta- 
tistics are applicable to four or five of the daily morning 
journals of New York. The evening papers, however, em- 
ploying fewer persons, and incurring smaller expenses, than 
their morning contemporaries, make a proportionate profit on 
the business of a year. 

The process of making a daily newspaper has also undergone 
a singular change within the space of thirty years. The minute 
subdivision of labor into distinct departments has been a slow 
growth ; but it is now reduced to a system which produces 
admirable results. The facilities of printing have been multi- 
plied by the introduction of the rotary Hoe press, which is 
capable of throwing oif eighteen thousand sheets hourly. The 
latest improvement in the processes of stereotyping enables 
the printer to reproduce the pages of a daily paper in duplicate, 
with the labor of an hour. 

In the organization of a daily newspaper in New York, the 
Chief Editor controls all the details of the Editorial depart- 
ment ; his decrees being final in all matters concerning the tone 
of the Journal, the engagement of assistants, and the prepara- 
tion of the contents of each sheet. His partners are charged 
with the afitiirs of business, and he meets them in consultation ; 
but in his own department he is supreme. Aroimd this figure, 
as on a pivot, revolve all the departments into which the edito- 
rial force is divided. One assistant, placed in charge of the 


news, is known as the Night Editor. Another, to whom is 
given the place and title of the City Editor, directs the work 
performed by the repoi-ters,' whose duty ig to gather all the 
local intelligence of the day. A special department is devoted 
to the news of the money market, and the assistant in charge is 
the Financial Editor. Another gives his attention to the litera- 
ture of the time, and is known as the Literary Editor. A 
critic is assigned the duty of writing upon the drama and the 
opera ; and the only persons who are not in charge of depart- 
ments are the editorial writers, who are in direct daily commu- 
nication with the Chief, receiving his suggestions and writing 
articles upon topics indicated byjhim, or upon others of their 
own selection, to which he gives his approval. Under this 
system, which is now generally adopted, the different parts of 
the daily paper are made harmonious, and the labor t)f each day 
is performed, not only without friction, but in the most rapid 
and satisfactory manner. 

The methods of obtaining news have been simplified by the 
organization of the Associated Press Agency, in New York. 
The " General News Association of the City of New York " 
was organized in October, 1856, by the joint efforts of the pro- 
prietors of seven of the daily papers, namely, the Journal of 
Commerce, Express, Herald, Sun, Tribune, Courier and Erv- 
quirer, and Times. It was a final consolidation of the "Harbor 
News Association," which had been in existence since January, 
1849, with the subsequent Telegraphic and General News As- 
sociations, established by different newspapers in the city; 
and all the property belonging to the pre-existing organiza- 
tions was formally transferred. It was provided that all the 
expenses incurred in collecting, preparing, and distributing 
news should be borne in equal proportions by all the members 
of the new Association, and that the responsible labor should 
be assumed by a General Agent, whose salary should be paid 
by equal assessments. Any member was to be permitted to 
withdraw, by giving six months' notice ; but no member was to 
sell his share in the property of the Association to any persons 
except the other members, who bound themselves to purchase 
such share, when offered, at two-thirds of its appraised value. 


This organization has been in existence for more than thir- 
teen years ; yet none of its original members have withdrawn. 
Once or twice James Gordon Bennett has threatened to take 
the Herald out; but he reconsidered his determination, and 
that paper continues to receive the news through the regular 
channel. The Herald, however, often incurs heavy expenses 
for special telegraphic despatches, and, when the Atlantic Cable 
went into operation, a large part of its earlier business was the 
transmission of long messages to Bennett. This fact was 
noted in the first ofB^cial report of the Atlantic Telegraph Com- 
pany. The other daily papers in New York receive thousands 
of words over the land telegraphs in the course of a single 
week, and these are exclusively for their own benefit. The 
cost of such despatches is an addition to the regular weekly as- 
sessment for what is technically called "Associated Press 
news," — to which all the seven papers in the Association are 

The General Office of the Associated Press is in the building 
on the north-west corner of Broadway and Liberty Street, 
New York. The general agent, Mr. James W. Simonton, 
who succeeded D. H. Craig, has under his orders a»large force 
of assistants, to whom specific duties are assigned. Through 
a complete system of agencies, all the news of the world is re- 
ceived daily at the General Office , — by the Atlantic Cable , by the 
Cuba Cable, by the lines of land telegraph, by ocean steamers, 
and by ships which fly to and from the South American ports. 
Agents are stationed in London and Liverpool, and in all the 
principal cities and towns of the United States, — in Montreal, 
Quebec, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, New Orleans, Wash- 
ington, Albany, and San Francisco, — and it is the duty of 
these agents to send early and full accounts of all the leading 
events of each day. Sometimes these messages are sent over 
the telegraphic wires in cipher, and are translated by the key 
held in the General Office in New York. 

The news thus gathered from every quarter is prepared for 
use by a duplication of copies on oiled-silk paper, prepared 
expressly for this purpose, and messengers convey the pack- 
ages in envelopes, upon which the name of each paper in the 


Association is printed. The news of New York, in like man- 
ner, is prepared for transmission to other places by other agents, 
to each of whom a special kind of work is given. 

The evening papers in New York do not belong to the Asso- 
ciation ; but are permitted to receive the same news which is 
furnished to the morning papers, on the payment of a stipulated 
sum. The average amount of this assessment is about eight 
thousand dollars per year for each of the principal evening 
papers in the city. The amount of revenue derived by the 
General Association by such sales of news to the evening jour- 
nals, and to papers outside of New York, materially reduces 
the yearly expenses of the original seven. 

The Associated Press has often been denounced as a grasp- 
ing monopoly, — and there is some truth in this assertion, — 
but it is certain that its simplification of the methods of getting 
news, and the perfect system with which it is managed, are 
great helps to the newspaper press of New York, and of the 
whole country. One or two rival Associations furnish news to 
papers which are not admitted to the privileges of the older or- 
ganizations ; but the heavy outlay required to establish a thor^ 
ough system of news-collecting, together with the exclusion of 
" outside " journals from telegraphic facilities, virtually invest 
the Associated Press with supreme power. 

But while each great printing establishment in New York 
possesses an internal economy which is smooth in its operation, 
and nearly perfect in result, the men themselves know little 
of each other ; and in this reSpect the profession of Journal- 
ism differs from all others. In medicine, members of societies 
meet at stated times for comparisons of views and for general 
discussion. In the ranks of the clergy, and among the mem- 
bers of the Bar, there is a greater or less degree of affiliation. 
But, unfortunately for the higher interests of Journalism, the 
rivalries of business too often remain operative after the hours 
of routine duty expire. 

Frequent attempts have been made to organize Press Clubs 
in New York, for the purpose of cultivating the social graces. 
Nearly twenty years ago, one of these Associations, taking the 
name of the "Press Club," held monthly sessions at the Astor 


House ; the members dining quietly together. It was com- 
posed exclusively of newspaper proprietors, and its purpose 
was accomplished in bringing together, at stated periods, and 
in friendly intercourse, the conductors of all the leading jour- 
nals of the city. But this experiment faded away. It was fol- 
lowed by a " Journalists' Club," composed of the subordinates 
employed in different departments of the newspaper offices ; 
but none of the members of this Club possessed the means to 
continue the hire of rooms, or to meet the contingent expenses 
of the organization ; and, like its predecessor, the experiment 
failed. No further attempt was made for several years, and 
the men of the Press in New York met as before, only at rare 
intervals, and in the busier hours of the day, when no time 
could be spared for the interchange of courtesies. A year or 
two ago, -however, a new effort was made to revive a pleasant 
custom ; and, in order to give assurance of vitality, formalities 
were laid aside, and no permanent organization was attempted. 
It was agreed that all reputable persons* engaged in Journal- 
ism should be invited to meet on the last Saturday of each 
month, — excepting July, August, and September, — at a sim- 
ple dinner. The price of the entertainment was limited to three 
dollars for each person, and every guest had the privilege of 
inviting one friend. The presiding officer was to be chosen 
from among the gentlemen present, and there was to be no 
other form of organization than that of an Executive Commit- 
tee, which was charged with the duty of ordering and paying 
for the dinner. This programme was successfully carried out. 
The dinners of the new Club — usually given at Delmonico's 
— have been attended by large numbers of gentlemen from all 
the principal newspapers in the city, and by distinguished 
guests ; and out of this organizajtion grew the complimentary 
banquet to Charles Dickens, of which mention has been made 
in a previous chapter of this volume. Moreover, the Press 
men entertained the members of " Sorosis," and the literary 
sisters returned the compliment. " Sorosis " still exists, and, 
like the Press Club, dines with Delmonlco. 

*In newspaper life, as in all other branches of business, there are "black 
sheep," whom good men snub. 


The reporters of New York, about eighteen months ago, 
organized a " Bohemian Club," taking this title for the purpose 
of redeeming the name of Bohemian from the disrepute into 
which it had fallen. This club has now forty or fifty members, 
all actively engaged in reportorial duty for different newspa- 
pers in the city. They dine together once a month ; the as- 
sessment for expenses being one dollar each, with extra 
charges for wine. 

The day of a cheap daily press expired soon after the be- 
ginning of the Civil War. The price of a morning paper had 
been two cents for many years prior to 1861 ; but the sudden 
rise in values immediately affected all the sources of supply. 
Printing-paper rose to twenty-four cents a pound, — nearly 
double its former price ; ink and type also went to higher fig- 
ures ; higher wages were demanded by workmen ; sajaries 
were increased, and the price of a newspaper rose to four 
cents, with an additional penny for the Sunday issues. Sev- 
eral cheap papers have sprung up since the war, which are 
sold for two cents each ; but for this sum it is impossible, in 
the present condition of the market, that they should attempt 
to vie with their older and richer contemporaries. 

The whole number of newspapers now published in the city 
of New York is^pwards of one hundred and fifty. Of these, 
twenty-four are issued daily, — thirteen in the morning and 
eleven in the evening. The remainder are weekly papers ; 
and of the whole number of these, eighteen are the organs of 
religious sects. Of the daily papers, two are published in the 
French language, and three in German. Of the weeklies, 
eighteen are in German, one in Italian, and two in Spanish. 
The whole list, classified, is as follows : — 


Times — Baymond, Jones & Co. 

Tribune — Tribnne Association. 

Herald — James Gordon Bennett. 

Sun — Charles A. Dana. 

World — Manton Marble. 

Journal of Commerce — Hale, Hallock & Co. 

Star — Joseph Howard, Jr. 


Transcript — Transcript Association. 
Daily Bulletin — Bulletin Association. 


Evening Post — William C. Bryant &' Co. 
Commercial Advertiser — Hugh J. Hastings. 
Express — James and Erastus Brooks. 
Evening Mail — James S. Johnston & Co. 
Evening Commonwealth — George Maryland. 
Evening Telegram — James Gordon Bennett, Jr. 
Press and Globe — Evening Press Association. 
Dally News — Benjamin Wood. 
Democrat — Mark M. Pomeroy. 


Courrier des Etats-Unis — Charles Lassalle. 
Messager Franco- Americain — H. de Mareil. 


Abend Zeltnng — E. KauchfUss. 
Demokrat — F. Schwedler. 
Staats-Zeitnng — Oswald Ottendorfer. 
New Yorker Journal — Evening paper. 


Advertisers' Gazette — George P. Rowell & Co. 

Advocate and Family Guardian — American Female Guardian Society. 

Albion — Einahan Cornwallls. 

American Artisan — Brown, Coombs & Co. 

American Baptist — Baptist Free Mission Society. 

American Journal of Mining — Western &Co. 

American Lloyds — T. D. Taylor. 

American Missionary — American Missionary Association. 

American Colonist — John V. Quick. 

American Railroad Journal — J. H. Schnltz. 

Anti-Slavery Standard— American Anti-Slavery Society. 

Appleton's Journal — D. Appleton & Co. 

Army and Navy Journal — W. C. and F. P. Church. 

Atlas — Anson Herrick's Sons. 

Bank-Note and Commercial Reporter — D. Hawes. 

Bible Society Record — American Bible Society. 

Billiard Cue — Phelan & CoUender. 

Boyd's Shipping Gazette — W. Hicks. 

Boys' and Girls' Weekly — Frank Leslie. 

Child's Paper — American Tract SQciety. 

Chimney Corner — Frank Leslie. 

Christian Advocate — Carlton & Lanahan. 


Christian Intelligencer — C. "Van Wyck, 

Church Journal — Houghton & Co. 

Christian Union — J. B. Ford & Co. 

Citizen and Round Table — Robert B. Roosevelt. 

Commercial and Financial Chronicle — W. B. Dana & Co. 

Cosmopolitan — R. McMurdy. 

Counting House Monitor — E. W. BuUinger. 

Cuban, The — Cuban Junta. 

Day's Doings — James Watts & Co. 

Druggists' Price Current — I. C. Michels. 

Dry Goods Price Current — P. R. Sabin. 

El Cronista — J. Ferrer de Couto. 

Emerald — McBride & Marrat. 

Examiner and Chronicle — Edward Bright & Co, 

Fireman's Jonrnal — F. J. Miller. 

Fireside Companion — G. Munroe. 

Frank Leslie's Budget of Fun. 

Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper. 

Frank Leslie's lUustrirte Zeitung. 

Free Trader — John Sarell. 

Freeman's Journal — J. A. McMaster. 

Gas-Light Journal — M. L. Callender & Co. 

Good Words — H. W. Adams. 

Grocer's Journal — F. D. Longchamp. 

Harper's Bazar — Harper cSb Brothers. 

Harper's Weekly — Harper & Brothers. 

Hebrew Leader — J. Bondi. 

Health Reformer— R. T. Trail. 

Hearth and Home — Pettengill, Bates & Co. 

Hearthstone, The — J. H. & C. M. Goodsell. 

Herald of Life — George Storrs. 

Home Journal — Morris Phillips & Co. 

Humphrey's Journal of Photography — J. H. Ladd. _ 

lUustracion Americana — Frank Leslie. 

Independent — H. C. Bowen. 

Industrial American — Edward Young's Son & Co. 

Insurance Journal — T. and J. Slator. 

Insurance Monitor — C. C. Hine. 

Insurance Times — English & Wilmshurst. 

Internal Revenue Record — W. C. & F. P. Church. 

Irish American — Lynch, Cole & Meehan. 

Irish Citizen — John Mitchel. 

Iron Age — David Williams. 

Jewish Messenger — S. M. Isaacs & Sons. 

Jewish Times — M. EUinger. 

Jolly Joker. 

Jones' U. S. Counterfeit Detector — J. W. Jones & Co. 

Journal of Applied Chemistry — Dexter & Co. 

Journal of the Telegraph — James D. Reid. 


Katholische Kirchen Zeitung — Benziger Brothers. 

L'Eco d'ltalla — G. P. Secchl de Casali. 

Liberal Christian — Unitarian Society. 

Life Boat— American Seaman's Priend Society. 

Literary Album — Street & Smith. 

Merryman's Monthly — J. C. Haney & Co. 

Methodist— H. W. Douglas. 

Metropolitan Record — John MuUaly. 

Missionary Advocate — Carlton & Lanahan. 

Monde Illustrfi — H. P. Sampers. 

Moore's Rural New Yorker — D. D. T. Moore. 

Musical Pioneer — P. J. Huntington & Co. 

Mnsik Zeitung — Gutmann & Stein. 

Nation — E. L. Godkin & Co. 

National Police Gazette —George W. Matsell & Co. 

National Temperance Advocate — J. N. Stearns. 

New Jerusalem Messenger — New Jerusalem Church. 

New "World — Frank Leslie. 

New York Clipper — P. Queen. 

New York Courier — James L." Smith & Co. 

New York Day Book — Vanevrie, Horton & Co. 

New York Dispatch —Estate of A. J. Williamson. 

New York Evangelist — Pield & Craighead. 

New York Leader — Leader Association. 

New York Ledger — Robert Bonner. 

New York Mercantile Journal — Mercantile Journal Company. 

New York Underwriter — J. B. Ecclesine. 

New York Weekly — Street & Smith. 

New York Weekly Review — Theodore Hagen. 

Observer — Sidney E. Morse, Jr., & Co. 

Petroleum Recorder — John Hillyer. 

Phunny Phellow — Street & Smith. 

Practical Painter — Willis, Macdonald & Co. 

Presbyterian — R. Carter & Brothers. 

Produce Exchange Reporter — W. H. Trafton. 

Producer's Price Current — B. Urner. 

Protectionist — J. Herbert. 

Protestant Churchman — Episcopalian. 

Real Esfate Record — C. W. Sweet. 

Revolution — Susan B. Anthony. 

Scientific American — Munn & Co. 

Scottish American Journal — A. M. Stewart. 

Scotsman, American — -John Stewart. 

Seamen's Priend — S. H. Hall. 

Sheldon's Dry Goods Price List — J. D. Sheldon & Co. 

Shipping and Commercial List — Autens & Bourne. 

Shoe and Leather Reporter — Dexter & Co. 

Soldier's Friend — W. O. Bourne. 

Spirit of the Times — George Wilkes. 


Stockholder — S. P. Dinsmore & Co. 
Sunday Mercury — Cauldwell & Whitney. 
Sunday-School Advocate — Carlton & Lanahan. 
Sunday-School Journal — Carlton & Lanahan. 
Sunday Times — B. G. Howard & Co. 
Table-Talk — Wilson, Lockwood, Everett & Co. 
Tablet — D. and J. Sadlier & Co. 
Tobacco Leaf— C. Pflrshing. 
Turf, Field and Farm — Bruce & Simpson. 
United States Economist — Joseph Mackey. 
United States Mining Journal — John Hillyer. 
Watson's Art Journal — H. C. Watson. 
Western World — Western World Co. 
Working Farmer — William L. Allison. 
[Besides eighteen weekly German papers.] 

In addition to twenty-four daily papers, and nearly five times 
that number .of weekly issues, several magazines and other 
monthly publications are also issued in New York. The dai- , 
lies gather up all that floats ; the weeklies, only that which 
preserves its freshness from Saturday to Saturday ; the month- 
lies, that which requires greater expenditure of thought and 
time and labor. The oldest existing New York magazine is 
Harper's, which has attained an immense circulation. The 
Galaxy is lively and popular, and is steadily gaining. Putr- 
nam's, recently revived, is fortunate in its antecedent history. 
Packard's is an experiment in a new field, and is prosperous. 
Hours at Home, the American Agriculturist, the Phrenological 
Journal, Onward, and Old and New meet the wants of dif- 
ferent classes of readers. All live ; therefore they find nutri- 
ment somewhere. 

The writer is indebted to George P. Rowell & Co., adver- 
tising agents in New York, for the subjoined list of news- 
papers in foreign languages,* published in the United States in 
the year 1869. 

'from the "American Newspaper Directoiy." 






San Francisco. — California Demo- 

San Francisco — Abend Post. 


New Haven — Beobacliter. 
New Haven — Connecticut Staats 


Washington — Columbia. 


Alton — Banner. 

Belleville — Stern des Westens. 

Belleville — Zeitung. 

Chester — Randolph Co. Zeitung. 

Chicago — Abend Zeitung. 

Chicago — Illinois Staats Zeitung. 
' Chicago — Union. 

Chicago — Bie Laterne. 

Freeport — Deutscher Anzeiger. 

Highland — Bpte and Schutzen Zei- 

Highland — Union. 

Springfield — Illinois Staats Demo- 


Evansville — Democrat. 
Evansville — Union. 
Fort Wayne — Indiana Staats Zei- 
Hiintiogburg — Signal. 
Indianapolis — Telegraph. 
Indianapolis — Future. 
Indianapolis — India na Volksblatt. 
Indianapolis — Spottvogel. 
La Fayette — Indiana Union. 
Tell City — Anzeiger. 
Terre Haute — Buerger Zeitung. 


Burlington — Iowa Tribune. 
Clinton — Iowa Volks Zeitung. 
Davenport — Der Demokrat. 

Dubuque — Iowa Staats Zeitung. 
Dubuque — National Demokrat. 
Elkader — Der Nord Iowa Herald. 
Keokuk — Telegraph. 


Louisville — Anzeiger. 

Louisville — Volksblatt. 

Louisville — Katholischer Glaubens- 

Louisville — Omnibus. 


New Orleans — Deutsche Zeitung. 




— Deutsche Correspon- 



— Wecker. 


— Katholische Volks Zei- 



Boston — 

Der Pioneer. 


Detroit — 

Michigan Journal. 

Detroit — 

Faniilien Blatter. 


St. Paul — Minnesota Volksblatt. 
St. Paul — Minnesota Staats Zeitung. 


Kansas City — Post. 

St. Joseph — Das Westliche Volks- 

St. Louis — Never Anzeiger des Wes- 

St. Louis — Volkszeitung. 

St. Louis — Westliche Post. 

St. Louis — Mississippi Blatter. 

St. Louis — Herold des Glaubens. 

St. Louis — Neue Welt. 


Arago — Westlicher Pionler. 
Nebraska City — Nebraska Zeitung. 


Egg Harbor — Der Zeitgeist. 

33 G 


Elizabeth — New Jersey Landbote. 
Hoboken — Hudson Co. Journal. 
Hoboken — Hudson Co. Volksblatt. 
Newark — New Jersey Freie Zeitung. 
Newark — New Jersey Volksman. 
Newark — T)er Erzachler. 
Trenton — New Jersey Staats Jour- 


Buffalo — Aurora. 

Buffalo — Demokrat. 

Buffalo — Telegraph. 

New York — Abend Zeitung. 

New York — Demokrat. 

New York — Journal. 

New York — Staats Zeitung. 

New York — Amerikanische Post. 

New York — Atlantische Blatter. 

New York — Belletristisches Journal. 

New York — Beobachter am Hudson. 

New York — Die Welt. 

New York — Prank Leslie's Hlustrate 

New York — Handel's Zeitung. 

New York — Katholische Kirchen 

New York — Museum. 

New York — Musik Zeitung. 

New York — Nachrichten aus Deutch- 
land und der Schweiz. 

New York — Schule des Volks. 

New York — Amerikanische Agricul- 

New York — Amerikanische Bier- 

New York — Der Lutherische Herold. 

New York— Farmers' Zeitung. 

New York — Gerhard's Gartenlaube. 

New York — Amerikanischer Bots- 

Eochester — Beobachter. 

Syracuse — Central Demokrat. 


Goldsboro — Die North Carolina 
Staats Zeitung. 


Canton — Deutsche in Ohio. 
Cincinnati — Volksblatt. 
Cincinnati — Volksfreund. 

Cincinnati — Christliche Apologete. 
Cincinnati — Die Deborah. • 
Cincinnati — Der Sendbote. 
Cleveland — Wachter am Erie. 
Cleveland — Christliche Botschafter. 
Cleveland — Christliche Kinder- 

Columbus — Der Odd Fellow. 
Dayton — Volkszeitung. 
Marietta — Zeitung. 
Portsmouth — Correspondent. 
Sandusky — Herold. 
Sandusky — Bay Stadt Demokrat. 
Toledo — Deutche Zeitung. 


Portland — Oregon Deutsche Zei- 


Allentown — Stadt and Land-Bote. 

AUentown — Friedensbote. 

Allentown — Lutherische Zeitschrist. 

Allentown — Jugend Freund. 

Allentown — Kirchen und Missions 

Allentown — Sonntagsschul-Lehrer 
und Eltein Freund. 

Allentown — Theologische Monats- 

Bethlehem — Der Brueder Botschaf- 

Boyertown — Demokrat. 

Doylestown — Der Morgenstern. 

Doylestown — Express and Reform. 

Easton — Correspondent and Demo- 

Erie — Frele Press. 

Erie — Leuchtthurm. 

Erie — Zuschaenr am Eriesee. 

Hamburg — Hamburger Schnellpost. 

Harrisburg — Pennsylvanische Staats 

Harrisburg — Vaterlands Wachter. 

Lancaster — Volksfreund und Beo- 

Lansdale — Montgomery Co. Presse. 

Lebanon — Wahrer Demokrat. 

Lebanon — Der Froehliche Botschaf- 

Lebanon — Pennsylvanier. 



Mauch Chunk — Lecha Thai Beo- 

Middleburg — Volksfreund. 
Milford Square — Eeformer and Pa. 

Milford Square — Meunonitische 

N orristovvn — Montgomery Co. Dem- 

ocratische Post. 
Norristown — "Wahrheits Frennd. 
Pennsburg — Bauern Freund. 
Philadelphia — Abend Post. 
Philadelphia — Demokrat. 
Philadelphia — Vereinigte Staaten 

Philadelphia — Freie Presse. 
Philadelphia — Neue Welt. 
Philadelphia — Reformirte Kirchen- 

Philadelphia — Die Eepublikanische 

Philadelphia — Sonntag's Blatt und 

ramilien Journal. 
Philadelphia — Der Lammerherte. 
Pittsburgh — Preiheits Freund. 
Pittsburgh — Eepublikaner. 
Pottsville — Amerikanischer Eepub- 
Pottsville — Jefferson Demokrat. 
Eeading — Adler. 
Eeading — Banner of Berks. 
Eeading — Eepublikaner von Berks. 
Eeading — Der Eeformirte Haus- 

Scranton — Wochenblatt. 
Skippackville — Der Neutralist and 

Allegemeine Neulgskeits-Bote. 
Sunbury — Der Deutsche Demokrat. 
Wilkesbarre — Demokratischer Wach- 

WlUiamsport — National Demokrat. 
Yoi'k — Gazette. 


Charleston — Zeitung, 


Memphis — Anzeiger des Sudens. 
Nashville — Tennessee Staats Zei- 
Nashville — Demokrat. 


Galveston — Union. 

New Braunfels — New Braunfelser 

San Antonio — Texas Free Press. 


"Wheeling — "West Virginia Courier. 


Fond du Lac — Eeform. 

Fond du Lac — Zeitung. 

Fountain City — Buffalo Co. Eepubli- 

La Crosse — Nord Stern. 

Manitowoc — Nord Western. 

Manitowoc — Zeitung. 

Ifilwaukee — Banner and "Volks- 

Milwaukee — Herold. 

Milwaukee — See-Bote. 

Sheboygan — National Demokrat. 

"Watertown — Weltbuerger. 

"West Bend — "Washington Co. Ban- 


Neustadt — Der Wachter am Sau- 

New Hamburg — Canada, Staats 

New Hamburg — Canadisches Volks- 

Stratford — Canadischer Colonist. 
"Waterloo — Deutcher Canadier. 



San Francisco — Le National. 

Kankakee - 


■ Courrier de I'Ouest. 


Abbeville — Meridional. 
Donaldsonville — Drapeau L'Ascen- 

Edgar — Meschacebe and L'Avant 

Gentilly — Louisianais. 
New Orleans — Bee. 
New Orleans — L'Epogne. 



New Orleans — La Ken'aissance Lou- 

New Orleans — Propagateur Catholic. 

Opelousas — Courier. 

Opolousas — Journal. 

Opelousas — St. Landry Progress. 

Plaquemine — Iberville South. 

St. Martinsville — Courier of the 

Vermillionville — Lafayette Adver- 


Buffalo — L'Phare des Lacs. 
Chauiplain — Le Charivari. 
New York — Courier des Etats Unis. 
New York — Le Messager Franco 

New York — Le Nouveau Monde. 


Shediac — Le Moniteur Acadian. 


Beauharnois — Le Courier de Beau- 

Montreal — La Minerve. 

Montreal — Le Nouveau Monde. 

Montreal — Le Pays. 

Montreal — L'Ordre. 

Montreal — La Lanterne. 

Montreal — La Guepe. 

Montreal — La Eevue Canadienne. 

Montreal — L'Echo de la France. 

Montreal — L'Echo du Cabinet de 
Lecture Paroissial. 

Montreal — Revue Agricole. 

Quebec — L'Evenement. 

Quebec — Le Journal de Quebec. 

Quebec — Le Canadian. 

Quebec — Le Courrier du Canada. 

Quebec — Le Charivari Canadian. 

Quebec — Journal de L'Instruction 

St. Hyacinthe — Journal. 

St. Hyacinthe — Gazette de St. Hya- 

Sorel — La Gazette de Sorel. 



Chicago — Hemlaudet. 

Chicago — Sandebudet. 
Chicago — Skandinaven. 
Chicago — Svenska Amerikanaren. 
Galva — Illinois Swede. 


Decorah — Ved Arnen. 

Decorah — Kerkelig Maailedstidende 


Minneapolis — Nordisk Folkeblad. 
Red Wing — Svenska Minnesota Bla- 


New York — Skandenavisk Post. 


La Crosse — Faedrelandet og Fmi- 



San Francisco — La Voz de Chile y 
El Nenvo Monde. 


New Orleans — El Imparcial. 

New Orleans — Las Dos Eepublicais. 


New York — El Cronista. 
New York — lUustracion Americana. 
New York — El Correo Hlspano 



Pella — Gazette. 
PeUa— Weekblad. 


Grand Rapids — "Vrijheids Banier. 
Holland — De Hollander. 
Holland — De Hope. 



San Francisco — La Voce del Popolo. 
San Francisco — L'Eco della Patria. 

New York ■ 


- L'Eco d'ltalia. 




Utica — Y'Drych. St. Xouis — Narodni Noviny. 

Utica — Y'CyfaiU. 

In this list appear the names of more than two hundred news- 
papers published for the exclusive benefit of the Germans, 
Scandinavians, Frenchmen, Italians, Bohemians, and Dutchmen 
who" have emigrated to the United States to find permanent 
homes. It is an important incident in the life of this large 
foreign element of our population that a free press is essential 
to their happiness. It is a luxury they never enjoyed until 
they had become American citizens. 

Eeaders who have not carefully followed the course of 
American Journalism might find difficulty in accounting for the 
existence of one hundred and fifty newspapers in a single city. 
Indeed, the mere fact of existence is all that can be placed to the 
credit of some dozens of the sheets which regularly appear from 
the presses of New York ; for they have limited circulations, few 
advertisements, and no influence beyond a small circle of sup- 
porters. It has already been shown in these pages * that most 
of the public journals now in existence in New York are com- 
paratively young ; and, unless imperative conditions are ob- 
served, the lease of life accorded to some of them must be 
brief. The taste of the reading public, yearly educated by a 
higher standard, demands continued enterprise, steady common 
sense, and increased dignity in the conduct of the American 
newspaper; and although the "flash" journal is likely to 
achieve temporary success among the classes who digest coarse 
food, and the heavy journal to find custom in the small corner 
of society which lives in the past, both the vulgar and the dull 
are fated to death and oblivion. Before the end of the present 
year, the names of some of the journals comprised in the fore- 
going catalogue. will probably have disappeared. Their places 
will be supplied by something better. 

The world has not got on without a struggle. Everything 
in nature struggles, — the plant to peep out of the ground, 

*. Chapters v. and vi. 


opinions to make a ■way, newspapers to exist. The London 
Times, confessedly the greatest and the most profitable news- 
paper in the world, was once as stupid as any journal that 
died years ago in New York or Boston ; although there had 
been ten centuries of European development to aid it at the 
start. Yet it was skilfully drawn out of all the perilous 
places, and it has become what it is, because its conductors 
made it, first, a grand newspaper, considered simply in the 
light of a news-gatherer, and next, a reflex of the opinion of 
its time. Moreover, it has preserved a strict impersonality ; 
and in this element alone it possesses a degree of strength 
which has never yet been attained by any American news- 

In the United States, it is too often true, that a newspaper is 
established so completely in the interest of a party or a clique, 
that, while the strength of clique or party is sufficient to in- 
sure it a legitimate support through the regular channels of 
subscription and advertising, the editorial columns are never 
free from partisan, bias ; and the editor, though not reduced to 
the necessity of direct and abject begging, is in reality in 
worse condition than he who goes humbly, hat in hand, to ask 
for crumbs. In fact, much of the Political Journalism of our 
day is open to the charges of prejudice and illiberality. Com- 
paratively few editors of leading American journals display 
the power of taking a judicial view of great public questions ; 
apparently preferring partisan arguments rather than compre- 
hensive views. Hence, the impartial reader, who is not 
wedded to conceits and whims, but, believing there are honest 
men in all parties, desires to sift all questions in dispute, is 
compelled to strike his own balance between conflicting state- 
ments. Onthe eve of an election, a citizen, wishing to vote a 
" scratched " ticket, putting the name of Hans Breitmann, 
Republican German, in place of that of Timothy Finnegan, 
Democratic Irishman, unfit for office, finds his Democratic 
journal loud in adulation of Timothy Finnegan, and denuncia- 
tory of Hans, because the former is the "regular" candidate 
of the "regular" convention, nominated through the agency 
of the " regular '" primaries ; and it would be treason to " the 


party " to speak one word against Timothy, even though he 
were publicly known as the greatest scapegrace unhanged. 
Nor is this practice confined to the Democratic press ; for, un- 
happily, the Political Journalism of all our great cities is shaped 
in the interest of what is, rather than of that which should be ; 
and so long as independent criticism is quenched by party 
drill, so long must tax-payers groan, and thieves in oiEce 

One class of journals has wholly died out in New York. In 
the course of a dozen years, many attempts to establish a comic 
paper have been made, and have failed. Like Jonah's gourd, 
they have had a rapid and unhealthy growth, only to wither in 
untimely death. In England, this style of journal possesses 
vitality. Punch, established in London thirty years ago, still 
prints its cuts in cartoon and type, — not, perhaps, with all its 
former vigor ; and London also has Judy, Fun, the Tomahawh, 
the Will o' the Wisp, and Vanity Fair. Charivari pleases the 
wits of France with epigram and illustration ; and Kladdera- 
datsch stirs the German blood by such saucy words as the censor 
permits. But in New York there are only loft to us the memo- 
ries of the departed fun of Yankee Doodle and the Lantern and 
Momus and Mrs. Grundy and John Donkey and Vanity Fair. 
Thus far, the genuine witty paper has not taken root in Ameri- 
can soil. Only the fungi live, and they should die. In its best 
days, Vanity Fair was a crackling, witty, reprosentative jour- 
nal, fairly illustrating American life and manners ; but it finally 
went the way of all the others. 

John Brougham started one of the comic papers in New 
York, — the Lantern, — and a funny story is told of him and it. 
Burton, the actor, was no friend to Brougham in those days, 
and no love was lost on either side. The story runs to the 
effect that Brougham, on entering a restaurant, found Burton 
and a companion sitting at a table. Burton replied to the ques- 
tion, " Have you read the Lantern this week ? " by saying, " No ! 
I never read the thing, unless I'm drunk — unless I'm drunk — 
(repeating in a louder tone) unless I'm drunk ! " Brougham 
immediately rose from the table at which he was sitting, ad- 
vanced, hat in hand, towards Burton, and, making a bow in his 


grandest manner, observed, "Then, Mr. Burton, I am sure of 
one constant reader ! " Burton made no reply. 

Mention has been made of the specialties to which many of 
the newspapers of New York are devoted. This feature is not 
peculiar to the United States ; for in England the establishment 
of "organs " is a habit. Yet the custom, copied from an older 
comitry, is here carried to an extreme. Inspired by a feel- 
ing that no calling is secure, no party organized, no sect vital- 
ized, no reform worthily urged, unless each is represented in 
type, the American people impress the printer into all the ranks, 
conditions, and occupations of life. Trade, finance, commerce, 
religion, spiritualism, the rights of women ; politics, literature, 
art, science ; fashion, frivolity and vulgarity ; the Eing, the 
Turf, the Brothel, — all have their representatives in the 
American Press. 

There are but three or four so-called " religious '' papers in 
the United States which do not exclusively represent a sect or 
espouse a dogma. Probably the bitterest controversies, the 
most unrelenting hostility, the worst antagonisms, are those 
peculiar to this class of public journals. Political editors quar- 
rel, and recover ; satirists ridicule each other, and, like lawyers 
after argument in a cause, meet on terms of perfect fellowship 
when the labor of the day is done ; rival artists send their 
sketches to their respective papers, and then adjourn amicably 
to some convenient restaurant; but the conductor of the 
Predestinarian constantly abuses his colleague who edits the 
Eoman Catholic sheet, and the Baptist will have none of the 
Churchman'' s Episcopalianism. Some of the strongest quality 
of personal abuse — the phrase is not too severe — which finds 
its way into print, is written for the denominational press that 
loudly professes to accept the obligations of meekness and 
Christian charity. 

The New York Independent, however, is singular among the 
newspapers which claim to represent the religious element. It 
is professedly Congregationalist in conviction, but its name 
indicates its real character. Independent in all things, it does 
not hesitate to differ with the devout in its oAvn church, nor to 
rebuke the shortcomings of those whose support it seeks. 


The twenty-first anniversary of its bii-th was celebrated, 
with unusual typographic display and pictorial pomp, in 
December, 1869 ; and an historical sketch from the pen of its 
editor gave some interesting information. The paper was 
established to promote two ideas, — one religious, the other 
political ; one the Congregational as against the Presbyterian 
church polity, the other the freedom of the slave against the 
tyranny of his master. Its original proprietors were five lay- 
men : Henry C. Bowen, Theodore McNamee, Simeon B. Chit- 
tenden, Seth B. Hunt, and' Jonathan Hunt. Its original edi- 
tors were three Congregational clergymen : Eev. Dr. Leonard 
Bacon, Rev. Richard S. Storrs, Jr., and Rev. Joseph P. 
Thompson. At the end of thirteen years, — in December, 
1861, — this triumvirate of divines retired, leaving the vacancy 
to be filled by Rev. Henry Ward Beecher. " By natural gravita- 
tion," observes Mr. Tilton, from whose sketch we draw these 
particulars, "the paper became, under Mr. Beecher's leader- 
ship, almost as much a sympathetic co-wox'ker with Presbyte- 
rians as it had formerly been their polemic antagonist. But 
Mr. Beecher did not wholly escape that same theological suspi- 
cion which from the beginning had been inadvertently drawn 
like a mild fog about the establishment. It is just to him, 
however, to say that through this thin haze he was always 
plainly visible as a ' burning and shining light.' On the first 
of January, 1863, the negroes were emancipated from their 
bondage, and Mr. Beecher was emancipated from his editor- 
ship." * He was succeeded by Theodore Tilton, who is still at 
the head of the paper, assisted by Rev. Joshua Leavitt, Oliver 
Johnson, and others. 

The Observer, an old paper, established in the interest of the 
Old-School branch of the Presbyterian denomination, is edited 
by Rev. S. Irenseus Prime, who is assisted by his brother, 
Rev. E. D. G. Prime, and other scholarly writers. The Ob- 
server is prosperous and influential ; and since the reunion of 
the Old and New Schools it has ceased to be the organ of the 

* Mr. Beecher has since resumed editorial service, as the editor of the 
Cfhristian Union. 


former as agaiust the latter. Its principal conductor is a gen- 
tleman of broad culture and long experience in religious jour- 
nalism. But he is not apt to look with favor upon anjiihing 
which possesses the faintest savor of Eadicalism. 

The Evangelist, conducted by Eev. Henry M. Field, wag 
formerly the representative of the ' New-School Presbyterian 
Church; but, like the Observer, it has buried the hatchet of 
polemical controversy, and is now devoted in nearly equal 
measure to discussions of religious questions and to summaries 
of secular intelligence. 

The Methodist .denomination has two principal organs, — 
the Christian Advocate, and the Metliodist, — both of which are 
published in New York, and are read by large numbers of be- 
lievers in that faith in all parts of the United States. 

The Examiner and Chronicle, conducted by Eev. Edward 
Bright, is a capable representative of the Bajitist body. 

The Jews have their own organs, Orthodox and Eeforma- 
tory. The Irish possess presses, — one edited by John Mitchel, 
— which clamor loudly for the independence of Ireland, and 
in support of Fenianism ; but which are rarely seen or read 
save by citizens of Irish birth or Irish descent. The Eoman 
Catholics have four or five organs. The Spaniards in New 
York give support to one weekly paper ; the Italians to one, — 
L'Eco d'ltalia. The large French and German population of 
New York calls for two daily journals for the former, and three 
for the latter. The Clipper and Wilhes' Spirit of the Times, 
published weekly, represent the "sporting" element, — the last- 
named aiming at a higher standard than that usually accorded 
to papers of this stamp. Woman's rights (so-called) and the 
" Sorosis " Club enlist the services of a little weekly paper 
called The Revolution, which is conducted by Susan B. 
Anthony and Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and is engaged in 
an energetic efi'oi't to transform women into men, with results 
limited by the laws of nature. The druggists have a Circular, 
printed for their own use ; the merchants, a Dry Goods Re- 
porter; the brokers, a variety of papers devoted exclusively to 
reports of the money market and the Stock Exchange ; the 
grocers, a Grocers' Journal; billiard-players, a Billiard Cue; 


dealers in tobacco, a Tobacco Leaf. And thus, through a long 
list of specialties, there are journals living or dying daily. 
Once, the Latter-Day Saints were represented by The Mor- 
mon; but that sheet long since 'expired, and, although the 
Mormons are still numerous- in New York and Brooklyn, and 
a Mormon Church has regular services in Williamsburgh, the 
purse of the Saints is .not reopened to equip another newspaper 

At the head of the Literary Journals now published in New 
York stands The Nation, — a weekly sheet, conducted with 
care and judgment by E. L. Godkin, assisted by W. P. Garri- 
son, a son of William Lloyd Garrison. The Nation is scholarly 
and temiserate, its judgment is generally good, and its success 
is deserved. 

The Round Table, long edited with ability by Henry 
Sedley (now engaged in the office of the Times), has been 
merged into the Citizen. Under the composite title of The 
Citizen and Round Table, it is now edited and published by 
Robert B. Eoosevelt, combining some of the literary features 
of the Round Table with the political character of the Citizen, 
as the latter existed under the management of the late Charles 
G. Halpine, better known as " Private Miles O'Reilly." 

The Sunday papers — so-called — form a distinct class. 
They are four in number : the Sunday Dispatch, Sunday Times, 
Sunday Mercury, and Courier. All find readers ; and the 
Dispatch and Mercury have created ample fortunes for their 
owners. Three of the leading morning papers also appear on 
Sunday morning ; but in a city so large and so irreverent as 
New York, there is sufficient custom for the Sunday issues of 
the Herald, the World, and the Titnes, as well as for the four 
journals which appear only hebdomadally, and are distinctively 
known as " Sunday papers." At least one-half the entire popu- 
lation of the city occupies the early hours of the first day in the 
week in the eager perusal of literature prepared especially for 

The Illustrated Papers in New York are Harper's Weekly, 
Harper's Bazar, Appleton's Journal, Franh Leslie's, and the 
Chimney Coiyier. All these obtain large circulations, but the 


illustrations are of varying degrees of excellence. The pencil 
of Thomas Nast, our best caricaturist, is monopolized by the 
Harpers, and he often excels other artists in his comical and 
effective illustrations of passing events. ApphtorCs Journal 
is becoming noted for its pictorial effects in the higher walks 
of art. 

Eobert Bonner's Ledger furnishes a remarkable illustration of 
the results of judicious advertising.* Through lavish expendi- 
ture of money, Mr. Bonner has persuaded a quarter of a million 
of readers to subscribe to the Ledger. It must be added, to 
his credit, that in securing valuable contributions from Beecher, 
Everett, Bryant, Saxe, Parton, and a host of the best American 
poets, essayists, and divines, he has given the readers of the 
Ledger an ample return for the price of a yearly subscription. 

* A humorous picture of the effects of advertising appeared in the 
Eichmond Enquirer of December 20, 1869 : — 

" The first time that a man loolis at an advertisement he does not see it. 

" The second time, he does not notice it. 

" The third time, he is dimly conscious of it. 

" The fourth time, he faintly remembers having seen something of the 
kind before. 

" The fifth time, be half reads it. 

" The sixth time, he turns up his nose at it. 

" The seventh time, he reads it all through, and says ' Pshaw ! ' 

" The eighth time, he ejaculates, 'Here's that confounded thing again! ' 

"The ninth time, he wonders if there is anything in it. 

" The tenth time, he thinks it might possibly suit somebody else's case. 

" The eleventh time, he thinks he will ask his neighbor if he has tried it or 
knows anything about it. 

" The twelfth time, he rather wonders how the advertiser can make it pay. 

" The thirteenth time, he rather thinks it must be a good thing. 

"The fourteenth time, he happens to think it is just what he has wanted 
for a long time. • 

" The fifteenth time, he resolves to try it as soon as he can afford it. 

"The sixteenth time, he examines the address carefully, and makes a 
memorandum of it. 

" The seventeenth time, he feels tantalized to think he is hardly able to 
afford it. 

" The eighteenth time, he sees painfUUy how much he needs that par- 
ticularly excellent article. 

" The nineteenth time, he counts his money to see how much he would 
have left if he bought it, and 

"The twentieth time, he frantically rushes out lu a fit of desperation, and 


The Home Journal is the sole representative iu New York of 
a class of papers which multiply more rapidly abroad thao 
here ; namely, the " fashionable " journal. The word in this 
cbnnection means the gossip of the drawing-rooms and of 
society generally, the lighter branches of the literature of the 
day, and the story of engagements, marriages, public and pri- 
vate balls, and affairs of like character. The names and literary 
reputations of George P. Moms and N. P. Willis gave this 
paper its start. It is now edited by Morris Phillips, who long 
enjoyed the confidence of Mr. Willis. 

A feeble attempt was made, a few months ago, to establish 
a paper in New York in opposition to the Eepublican idea of 
government. The title given to this experimental and exceed- 
ingly absurd sheet was The Imperialist. Its days were 
few and full of trouble ; and readers who gave it a casual 
glance professed their inability to understand whether it was 
an earnest piece of idiocy, or a lamentable attempt at waggery. 
But it is dead, and it requires no further mention. 

— Eeturning to the consideration of the Daily Press of New 
York, a phenomenon appears. 

Why the Evening Papers in New York should have 
multiplied to such an alarming extent in the past three 
or four years, is a mystery which no writer upon the subject 
of Journalism can hope to explain. The youngest of these 
sheets * died suddenly at the end of 1869 ; yet nine survive. 
The prices at which these nine are sold range from one cent 
to five cents each. The oldest is the Commercial Advertiser, 
which has been in existence since 1794. The next in age is the 
Evening Post, established in 1801. The third in order is the 
Express, first issued as a morning paper, but changed into an 
evening sheet several years ago. Then were born the Evening 
Mail, the News, the Gommonwealth, theTelegram, theEemocrat, 
and the Press and Globe. Some of these have gained a daily circu- 
lation of ten thousand copies ; others, seven to eight thousand ; 
others, a few hundreds only. No one of them can ever reach 
the circulation which is regarded as essential to the existence 

* The Hepublio. 


of a morning paper ; for the latter is never accounted a suc- 
cess until it is delivered daily to at least twenty thousand 
readers ; but the advertising patronage of the business houses 
in the city is fairly apportioned among all, in great part 
through the skilful manipulation of Advertising Agencies; 
and thus a respectable support is secured. 

The Evening Mail is a pleasant tea-table paper, edited by 
Jonas M. Bundy, and published by J. S. Johnston & Co. The 
Express is conducted by James and Erastus Brooks ; and is, 
unfortunately for itself, the most slovenly paper ever published 
in New York. The Evening Commonwealth, owned and 
edited by George Marsland, is a new-comer, making gradual 
progress. The News, Democrat, and Telegram rank in one 
class. The Commercial Advertiser has the smallest circulation 
of all ; and its size and price have lately been reduced. 

The Evening Post is sixty-eight years old, and for more than 
forty years has been conducted by William CuUen Bryant. 
Its fii'st number appeared on the 16th of November, 1801 ; 
but the sheet was then little more than a quarter of the pres- 
ent size. The first editor' was William Coleman. In 1826, a 
quarter of a century from the time of, the first issue, Mr. Bry- 
ant began to write for its columns ; and in 1827 he became a 
proprietor. In 1829, Mr. Coleman died, and William Leg- 
gett became connected with the paper ; and in 1834, on the 
departure of Mr. Bryant for Europe, Mr. Leggett was elevated 
to the place of chief editor. In 1836, Mr. Leggett retired, and 
established the Plaindealer, which had a brief existence of 
one year. In 1837, William G. Boggs bought a share of the 
Evening Post, and retired, in the fall of 1848, to give place to 
John Bigelow; who, in turn, parted with his shares in 1861 in 
favor of Parke Godwin, who also retired in May, 1868. Mr. 
, Godwin, a son-in-law of Mr. Bryant, first became a proprietor 
of the Ikening Post in 1840, but transferred his interest to 
Timothy O. Howe in 1844 ; and afterwards wrote for the col- 
umns of the paper without proprietary position, until he suc- 
ceeded Mr. Bigelow in 1861. Isaac Henderson, who entered the 
service of the Evening Post in 1846, became a partner in 1847 ; 
and on the retirement of Mr. Godwin purchased his shares. 


Mr. Henderson is now the chief owner of the paper. He was 
recently 'Navy Agent in New York. 

An incident in the editorial career of Mi;. Bryant, and in the 
history of the Evening Post, — not generally known, — had a 
direct bearing upon the success of a great public improvement 
in New York. On his return from Europe, several years be- 
fore the project of laying out Central Park had taken shape, 
Mr. Bryant accepted the invitation of a friend to visit the up- 
per end of the island of New York, and in the course of a ramble 
passed through the forest which skirts the bank of the East 
Eiver, and is still known by the name of Jones's Woods. The 
utility and beauty of the public parks in the great cities of Eu- 
'rope had strongly impressed Mr. Bryant, and he determined to 
urge upon the authorities and the citizens of New York the ne- 
cessity of creating a Park which should be worthy of the city. 
Acting upon this resolution, he set forth, through the columns 
of the Evening Post^ cogent reasons for undertaking this work ; 
suggesting the purchase and adornment of Jones's Woods as a 
proper step in the right direction. Many articles on this sif'i- 
ject came from his pen, and the awakened interest of the pub- 
lic eventually produced the desired result. In the original 
plan of the Central Park the woods in question were included ; 
but for good reasons the project underwent the modifications 
which were subsequently embodied in the present Park. 

Mr. Bryant's reminiscences of the first half-century of the 
Evening Post * contain one or two paragraphs which are not 
out of place in this connection ; for they reveal some of the 
peculiarities of the old style of Journalism in New York, and 
show us, too, wherein the customs of to-day are improvements 
upon the past. Mr. Bryant wrote : — 

" The Evening Post of the 24th of November, 1801, records the death of 
Philip Hamilton, eldest son of General Alexander Hamilton, in the twentieth 
year of his age, — ' murdered,' says the editor, ' in a duel.' The practice of 
duelling is then denounced as a ' horrid custom,' the remedy for which must 
be ' strong and pointed legislative interference,' inasmuch as ' fashion has 
placed it on a footing which nothing short of that can control.' The editor 
himself belonged to the class with which fashion had placed it upon that foot- 

*^m!e, p. 37. 


ing, and was destined himself to be drawn by her power into the practice he 
so strongly deprecated. 

"The quarrel with Cheetham went on. On the next day, in a discussion 
occasioned by the duel in which young Hamilton fell, he mentioned Cheet- 
ham, and spoke of ' the Insolent vulgarity of that base wretch.' At a subse- 
quent period, the EHening Post went so far as, in an article reflecting severely 
upon Cheetham and Duane, to admit the following squib into its columns : — 

" ' Lie on, Daane, lio on for pay. 
And Cheetham, lie thou too ; 
More against truth you cannot say, 
Than truth can say 'gainst yon.' 

" These wranglings were continued a few years, until the Citizen maCle a 
personal attack upon Mr. Coleman, of so outrageous a nature that he de- 
termined to notice it in another manner. Cheetham was challenged. He 
was ready enough in a war of words, but he had no inclination to pursue it to 
such a result. The friends of the parties interfered ; a sort of truce was patched 
up, and the Citizen consented to become more reserved in its future assaults. 

" A subsequent affair, of a similar nature, in which Mr. Coleman was en- 
gaged, was attended with a fatal termination. A Mr. Thompson had a dif- 
ference with him which ended in a challenge. The parties m^t In Love Lane, 
now Twenty-flrst Street, and Thompson fell. He was brought, mortally 
wounded, to his sister's house in town ; he was laid at the door, the bell was 
rung, the family came out, and found him bleeding and near his death. He 
reftised to name his antagonist, or give any account of the affair, declaring 
that everything which had been done was honorably done, and desired that 
no attempt should be made to seek out or molest his adversary. Mr. Cole- 
man returned to New York and continued to occupy himself with his paper 
as before. 

" Such is the tradition which yet survives concerning the event of a com- 
bat to which the parties, who bore no previous malice to each other, were 
forced by the compulsion of that ' fashion,' against which one of them, on the 
threshold of his career as a journalist, had protested, even while indirectly 
recognizing its supremacy. The quarrel arose out of political differences, 
Mr. Coleman being in the opposition, and Mr. Thompson a friend of the ad- 

. . . " Those who recollect what occurred when General Jackson with- 
drew the funds of the government from the bank of the United States, — a 
measure known by the name of the removal of the deposits — cannot have 
forgotten to what a pitch party hatred was then carried. It was a sort of 
fliry; nothing like it had been known in this community for twenty years, 
and there has been nothing like it since. Men of different parties could 
hardly look at each other without gnashing their teeth ; deputations were 
sent to Congress to remonstrate with General Jackson, and some even 
talked — of course it was mere talk, but it showed the height of passion to 
which men were transported— of marching in arms to the seat of govern- 
ment and putting down the administration. A brief panic took possession 
of the money market; many worthy men really believed that the business and 


trade of the country were in danger of coming to an end, and looked for a 
universal ruin. In this tempest the Eijening Post stood its ground, vindi- 
cated the administration in its change of agents, on the ground that the 
United States Bank was unsafe and unworthy, and derided both the threats 
and the fears of the Whigs." 

. . . "In 1837, the Times, a democratic morning paper, -was published in 

the city. The editor, one Dr. Holland, sent a challenge to 

Mr. Bryant, by a friend, who was authorized to make the due arrangements 

for the meeting Mr. Bryant treated the matter very lightly ; 

he put the challenge in his pocket, and told the bearer that everything must 
take its proper turn, that Dr. Holland, having already been callfed a scoundrel 
by Mr. Leggett, must give that affair the precedence, and that, for his own 
part, he should pay no further attention to the matter in hand till that was 
settled. The affair passed off without any consequences." 

Of the morning journals of New York, four are widely 
known and influential, — known for qualities peculiar to each, 
and influential in separate directions. Eepresenting diflerent 
phases of American life, diflferent ideas of Journalism, diflerent 
methods of thought and action, all are needed ; all are pros- 
perous ; and there is room for all. At frequent intervals, these 
papers engage in a quadrangular quarrel, but no injury is in- 
flicted which the lapse of a day will not mend ; and, although 
the newspaper antagonisms of the time are sometimes bitter, 
the combatants have learned lessons from the past, — lessons 
which Mr. Bryant has recited in the passages already quoted, 
and no irate editor now thinks of pistoling his opponents by 
way of punishment for words written in the heat of acrimonious 
political argument, or uttered in the fervor of personal ani- 
mosity. Perhaps it is not idle to hope for the coming of the 
time when Journalism shall become wholly impersonal, and when 
the sweeter, courtesies of life shall take the place of the pitiful 
jealousies, the despicable innuendoes, and the malignant false- 
hoods which have too often sullied the record of newspaper life 
in the United States, and especially in New York. 

The Tribune, still edited by Horace Greeley, holds its own 
after twenty-nine years of active life. Mr. Greeley has had a 
long and violent struggle with fortune ; but he has succeeded 
in building up a gi-eat newspaper, in obtaining celebrity for 


himself, and iu amassing a comfortable independence. His 
paper is now a valuable property.. The errors into which his 
impatient nature hurried him have been atoned by several 
frank confessions ; and his nature has become so temperate, 
in comparison with the mireasoning violence of his earlier years, 
that it may reasonably be expected he will continue decorous. 

The Herald, still nominally edited by James Gordon Ben- 
nett, is really conducted by his subordinates. The profits of 
the Herald are larger than those of any other paper in New 
York, from its large circulation, and its enormous advertising 
patronage ; but its influence is among the things of the past. 

The World, begun as a religious newspaper, long since 
relinquished the efi'ort to run counter to the laws of Mammon. 
But it is incisively witty — and successful. 

The Times, which began, must end this record. Soon 
after the death of Mr. Eaymond, that paper passed for a short 
time under the management of Mr. John Bigelow, formerly of 
the Evening Post, and later United States Minister to France. 
Mr. Bigelow retiring, Mr. George Jones — long the publisher 
of the Times — became its responsible head. He now exer- 
cises a general supervision over its editorial management, as 
well as its financial affairs. The present editorial force was 
constituted under his direction, and the departments of the 
paper 'hxQ arranged in the following order : — 

Managing Editor and leading Political Writer — George 
Sheppard. , 

Editorial Writers — L. J. Jennings, John "Webb, and George 
E. Pond ; together with a large corps of contributors, not 
employed in regular service, but engaged to write upon spe- 
cial topics. 

Literary and Dramatic Critic — Henry Sedley. 

Financial Editor — C. C. Norvell. 

Commercial Editor — Michael Hennessey. i 

Mght Editor— E. M. Bacou. 

Assistant Night Editor — Ranald McDonald. 

City Editor — E. R. Sinclair. 

Mail-Reader — Jacob Thompson. 


Washington Bureau — L. L. Crounse, and a large number 
of assistants. 

Mr. Henry W. Eaymond, who entered the service of the 
Times to learn the whole routine of practical journalism,* has 
followed so well in the footsteps of his father, that he is already 
regarded as one of the most useful workers on the paper. 
Henry J. Eaymond began his career as a reporter, and by his 
ability and energy worked his way upward ; there is no reason 
to doubt that his son, whose physical and mental resemblances 
to his father are equally striking, will show himself capable of 
achieving the success which is always won by natural ability, 
and by well-directed industry. 

Two distinguished journalists who were formerly identified 
with the Times have lately retired from its service. A fluent 
and graceful writer, — Mr. John Swinton, — who for many 
years conducted the department of "Minor Topics," now rests 
upon his laurels. Of Scottish birth, and characterized by great 
natural shrewdness and ready wit, Mr. Swinton brought to the 
profession of Journalism a keen and just gense of its require- 
ments. In greater degree than almost any other member of 
his profession in this country, he possesses the faculty of point- 
ing a paragraph in such a manner that it becomes as effective 
as the labored essay of the didactic writer. The art of turning 
neat paragraphs is an art which should be more carefully culti- 
vated by writers for the public journals ; for the day of elabo- 
rate and heavy disquisition long since expired. Mr. William 
Swinton, brother of the gentleman last named, was for several 
years a contributor to the Times. He is well known as the 
author of works on military subjects, and is a forcible and 
pleasing writer. 

It is" difficult to arrive at the exact trath concerning the 
circulation or the annual profits of the newspapers of New 
York; but the reader who is curious in such matters may 
gather some interesting details from the subjoined statements. 

* Ante, p. 228. 


taken from the books of the Assessors of Internal Eevenue in 
July, 1869. A comparison of these figures will show the rela- 
• tive proportion of patronage received by different classes of 
journals. The return is for the nine months ending on the 
30th of June, 1869, and in each case an exemption of twelve 
hundred and fifty dollars per quarter was allowed by law, — 
no tax being imposed upon advertisements. 



Herald $188,395 

World 200,958 

Tribune 130,699 

Times 129,688 

Staats Zeitung 36,500 

Sun 38,965 

Evening Post ....... 26,856 

E^cpress 22,916 

News 64,750 

Journal of Commerce .... 24,500 

Democrat 9,408 

Demokrat (German) 5,019 

Commercial Advertiser .... 6,594 

Eranco-Amerlcaln 4,072 

Ledger 161,008 

Weekly and Phunny Phellow . . . 119,135 

Harper's Weekly and Bazar . . . 105,349 

Sunday Times 7,223 

Mercury 38,805 

Observer 23,324 

Hearth and Home 

Clipper 16,602 

Atlas 8,825 

Evangelist 9,600 

Scientific American . li . . . 17,177 

Irish American . . . . , . 10,500 

Dispatch ' . 12,615 

Irish Eepublic 7,514 

Methodist 6,249 

Christian Intelligencer .... 8,220 

Wilkes' Spirit ....-,. 6,250 

I/eader 6,030 

Day Book 6,667 

Scottish American 4,332 

Shipping List 4,702 

Army and Navy Journal .... 3,220 

■Quarter Ending- 









































































I Quarter Ending ^ 

NEWSPAPERS, J"§ .►-|! S^ 

iS"^ <S3 o>s 

s-i sa !°§ 

Examlnei and Chronicle .... $6,464 $23,415 $10,334 

Albion 2,250 2,240 2,880 

Courier . . . ... . . 3,892 5,941 6,927 

Commercial Chronicle .... 2,360 4,694 

Producers' Price Current .... 1,612 1,426 1,533 

Irish People 2,139 1,880 2,615 

Bound Table 802 924 

Handel Zeitung 2,262 916 710 

Emerald 10,755 7,923 3,721 

Turf, Field, and Farm .... 948 325 5,120 

New Yorker Journal 18,950 

Fireside Companion 23,229 17,974 

Eural New Yorker 109,989 6,835 

Yankee Notions 496 835 

Liberal Christian 1,864 1,883 

Counting House Monitor .... 1,690 1,900 

Comic Monthly , . • . . . 2,230 4,673 

Telegram 1,776 3,558 

These imposing statistics reveal some part of the immense 
force inherent in the Journalism of New York. With infinite 
labor, and with unflagging zeal, the proprietors of the great news- 
paper establishments have built up a profitable business ; and 
with the rapid increase in the facilities of publication, the tenden- 
cy to expansion must increase. We have seen what the Press 
of New York was, and what it is. What it will be, no prophet 
can foretell ; but the vast changes which have taken place in 
the lifetime of a single generation establish precedents for 
greater wonders. 

The question of technical education in Journalism assumed a 
new phase in the summer of 1869, when a circular letter was 
sent out by the Faculty of Washington College, in Virginia, — 
an institution over which General Robert E. Lee presides, — 
proposing to grant free scholarships to candidates for a news- 
paper career. This curious document* recited the terms upon 
which the Faculty were willing to aid young men who intended 
to make Journalism their profession. The age of the candi- 
dates was to be over fifteen years ; unimpeachable character 


Issued Aug. 10, 1869. 


was a requisite qualification ; the appointments were to be for 
two years. The scholarships were to include tuition and all 
college charges ; and a condition was attached, to the effect 
that each student " should labor one hour per day in the line of 
his profession." The Typographical Unions in the Southern 
States were requested to nominate the candidates. The re- 
sponse was feeble i and the newspapers became facetious over 
a programme which was inherently absurd. The practical 
journalists, who had worked their own way upward by diligent 
application, knew the impossibility of learning the lessons of 
Journalism within the walls of a collegiate institution. 

Tlaoreau, in one of his cynical hermit moods, insisted that 
men's inner lives fail when they go continually to the post- 
office, and that the only difference between one man and his 
neighbor lies in the fact that one has been "out to tea," and the 
other has not. And an atrabilarious Archdeacon of the Es- 
tablished Church in England not long ago saw fit to denounce 
the Press in unmeasured terms, concluding with the statement 
that there were " no newspapers in St. Paul's time ;" else there 
had been no Christian religion. 

Mr. Thoreau and the Archdeacon were wise in their own 
way ; but it was owl-like wisdom, after all. The New Eng- 
land hermit, secluding himself from all the advantages of civil- 
ization, elected to be a cynic in the woods. He wrote books, 
and mused upon the banks of running brooks, and had weird 
fancies and quaint humors. But he did not discover the spirit 
of his time, and he died young. The caustic Archdeacon, on 
the other hand, was no hermit, but lived in the full blaze of 
light, only to blink at things apparently beyond his compre- 

For that which the gi-eat majority of mankind do must be 
worth the doing ; else it would not be done. Were the print- 
ing and publishing of newspapers an unprofitable undertaking, 
no editor or capitalist would risk loss in making them. Were 
the reader of newspapers to discover that his mind grew va- 
cant, or his purse lean, as the consequence of his devotion to 
their columns, common sense would end his delusion. But the 
patronage bestowed upon the Press is constant, and it gives 


good profit; so the papers multiply and are read, and the 
world clamors for them. 

It is interesting to recall the memories of what the New 
York newspapers were, in order to understand them as they 
are. In the old days, as we have shown, newspaper life was 
slow; now it is fast. Thirty years ago, when the Pony Ex- 
presses ran, and when single locomotives sped along a few iron 
tracks, carrying tidings of what men were doing, events 
were subjects for rejoicing"; but all the speed of horses' legs, 
or of tireless engines, could not compass in a day what is now 
done for us in the ticking of a watch. Thirty years ago 
the Telegraph was no part of the newspaper system ; now, no 
newspaper is complete without its regular instalments of 
"Manifold " from the offices of the Associated Press. Slender 
wires of copper, stretched across interminable plains, cause 
us to hear the very heart-throbs of our brothers three thousand 
miles away on the Pacific slope ; and seven other copper wires, 
bundled into the compass of a man's thumb, and sunk in the 
depths of the Atlantic, make the Old World and the New more 
than brothers, — for each knows the other's thought as soon as 
uttered, and neither moves without a sympathetic pulsation. 
The mail which leaves London on the first of each month is 
opened in California on the sixteenth ; and thirty days later, 
the English tea-merchant's order puts the Hang-Kow deal- 
er's subordinates at work among chests of Souchong and Bo- 
hea. These rapid advances may be but the forerunners of still 
more wonderful events. Men now living may yet prepare 
news for print, received from Paris by Balloon Express ; or 
may see composing-rooms lighted by oxygen gas, and the 
daily journal printed in a carpeted parlor by the aid of the 
electric engine. Man has grappled with the forces of Nature, 
and with skilful hand bends them to his will. 

Changes are at hand in American Journalism. In another 
quarter of a century, the well-known men who have built up 
the present great Dailies of New York, and upon whose heads 
Time's fingers have been busy, will have doffed the harness they 
wear so well, to give place to the younger. We regard with 
gratitude the work these men have done ; and the natural 


question then arises, " On what scale, and in what spirit, shall 
it be continued ? " Accepting the promise of the Present, the 
prospect of the Future brightens. For, as men come to know 
each other better, through the more rapid annihilation of time 
and space, they will be plunged deeper into affairs of trade and 
jBnance and commerce, and be burdened with a thousand cares, 
— and the Press, as the reflector of the popular mind, will then 
take a broader yiew, and reach forth towards a higher aim ; 
becoming, even more than now, the living photograph of the 
time, the sympathetic adviser, the conservator, regulator, and 
guide of American Society. 






Autobiographical Eragment, by Henry J. Baymond •••••«• 361 


She Pittsburg Address, written b; Henry J. Baymond in 1856 . • • • . 365 


Disunion and Slavery: Mr. Baymond's Letters to William L. Tanoey in 1860 . . 381 


The Philadelphia Address, trritten by Henry J. Baymond in 1866 .... 418 


Address delivered before the Associate' Alumni of the University of Vermont, by 
Henry J. Baymond 462 

A Pilot-Boat Voyage in Search of Nem .••.«••« .486 



[The subjoined fragment of Mr. Raymond's Autobiography first appeared 
in the columns of the New York 7"imes on the 15th of August, 1869 — two 
mouths after the death of Mr. Raymond. It was introduced by the Editor 
theu in charge of the Times, in tjie following terms : — 

" Mr. Raymond liad a good right to suppose that the events of his life ^ere 
destined to have a permanent interest to his countrymen. His career, 
though brief, was a very brilliant one, and gave promise of the most exalted 
civic honors. "We are not surprised, therefore, to learn that among his 
papers was found the commencement of an autobiography which, though 
like most autobiographies, is only a fragment, happily gives details of that 
period of his life usually least accessible to the biographer. In reading this 
brief memorial of Mr. Raymond's early struggles with the world, our readers 
will feel a new respect for the talent and energy by which he triumphed, and 
those who are beginning life under similar disadvantages will derive from 
his example and success fresh encouragement."] 

"I have been very much Interested in Mr. Greeley's recollections of his 
early experience in newspapers, and especially in the establishment of the 
Tribune. For some reason or other, everybody, I believe, finds something 
especially Interesting in the details of the rise and progress of a newspaper; 
but my connection with Mr. Greeley at that time makes it quite natural that 
my interest in it should be even sharper than that of the public at large. 
The generous appreciation which Mr. Greeley expresses, now that more than 
a quarter of a century has elapsed, of my services at that time, is especially 
grateful to me. I was with him less than four years, instead of eight, as he 
says ; and, though I did work, I believe, quite as hard during that time upon 
the Tribune as he now gives me credit for having done, I think I have 
worked still harder for a good many years since that time. But I certainly 
deserve no special credit for it in either case. I did it from no special sense 
of duty, — still less with any special aim or ambitious purpose. I liked it; 
I knew no greater pleasure, having had but little experience then, — and I 
am free to sa;y tliat I have found ojily one since. 

" Mr. Greeley speaks more slightingly than I think Is just of his previous 



efforts in editing newspapers, and especially of what was my ..larliest favor- 
ite among newspapers, the New-Yorker. I made its acquaintance in tlie 
winter of 1835, when, being but fifteen, and too young to go to college, 
for which I was better prepared than my father was to send me, I had uuder- 
talven to act as clerk in a country store for the magnificent sum of seventy- 
five dollars a year. I did not like the business, and as time hung heavy on iny 
hands I dropped in at the post-office and asked what was the best newspaper 
to subscribe for. The postmaster threw me half a dozen which had been 
sent to him by the publishers as specimen numbers; and after due delibera- 
tion I selected the Neia-Yorker as the one which promised to be the most 
interesting and instructive. I sent my three dollars' subscription, received 
the paper in retui'n, and thus began my acquaintance with it, which was 
uninterrupted until in 1841 I aided, perhaps, to kill it — certainly at its 
funeral ceremonies. 

" Mr. Greeley speaks deprecatingly of its neutrality in politics and its 
meagre election returns. Yet those very features gave him a solid reputa- 
tion much more widely than he has any notion of, and laid tlie foundation of 
his futu're authority and success. There was a candor in its discussions, a 
fair examination of both sides of the political topics which divided the coun- 
try, and a readiness to give due weight to the arguments of an opponent, 
which, combined with great clearness of thought and command of the subject, 
won for the political articles of the Uew-Yorker a very high degree of influ- 
ence and respect. I know that they made far greater impression upon polit- 
ical opponents than the vehement party diatribes whidh then, as now, were 
regarded as so much more effective. And the election returns of the New- 
Yorker, for years, commanded a degree of respect to which none of the party 
journals of the day could aspire. They were regarded as unbiassed by party 
feeling, perfectly honest, and coming from a well-informed and thoroughly 
reliable quarter. The New- Yorker was as great an authority in that section 
of the country, on election returns, as the Mercury (the weekly edition of the 
Journal of Commerce'), under Mr. Gerard Hallock: — and when the verdict 
of either of those journals came to hand, all disputes on the subject ceased. 

" The reputation which Mr. Greeley thus won for himself in the New- 
Yorker was of very essential servitie to him in his other journalistic efforts, 
long after the New-Yorker itself ceased to exist. The calm, dispassionate 
character of its articles, — their strength of argument all the more conspicu- 
ous by reason of the absence of passion, — and the accuracy of its statements 
won for Mr. Greeley a degree of public confidence sufficient to set up half-a- 
dozen men in any business where confidence was the main thing required. 

" Mr. Greeley edited the Jeffersonian in 1838, and the Log Cabin in 1840, on 
the same general principles, — though, as they were both campaign papers, 
with less fastidious care, and no pretension to neutrality. The Log Cabin 
was, in my judgment, the best campaign paper ever published, — certainly 
the best of which I ever had any knowledge ; and it was the best because it 
was never afraid or unwilling to give an opponent's argument, — its state- 
ments of fact were carefully truthful, and always backed by good authority, 
and its tone was that of earnest and thorough conviction. Its enormous cir- 
culation made the reputation which Mr. Greeley had won in the New-Yorker 
as wide as it was high ; and laid the foundation for the very large circulation 


■which the Weekly Tribune subsequently received. The flnancial crash of 
1837, and the public sentiment which grew out of it, was probably the reai 
cause of the Democratic defeat of 1840; but of all the immediate and direct 
agencies in the Whig victory of that year, the Log Cabin was undoubtedly 
the most powerful and effective. It was not without substantial reason that 
Mr. Greeley afterward complained to Governor Seward that his services had 
not been properly appreciated by the party he had aided to place in power. 

"I graduated in August, 1840, and, though I could not vote, I spent the 
next two months in ' stumping ' the immediate vicinity of my native town for 
' Tippecanoe and Tyler too.' After the election I traversed the same region 
in search of a select school to teach ; and it was only upon the downfall of 
all such hopes, and in despair of finding anything to do there, that I ' hied ' 
to New York city, of which I had heard, but which I had never seen but 
once, and in which I knew but one human being, and he a student in a law- 
yer's office in Wall Street. I had once seen Mr. Greeley, in the Journal 
office in Albany, — while on my way home for the vacation after the College 
Commencemett in 1838. I had stopped in to inform the editor, as a piece of 
news, that the college had conferred the degree of LL. 0. upon Silas Wright. 
I found Mr. Weed and Mr. Greeley both there — both hard at work, and both 
greatly disgusted at the bestowal of such an honor upon so notorious a Loco- 
foco. The thing had not struck me in this light before, but I began to be a 
little ashamed of having supposed I should do them a favor by giving them a 
piece of news which pleased them so little. But I had sent a good many 
literary contributions — mainly critical, though some (as I then thouglit) 
poetic — to the New-Yorlcer ; and I therefore felt at^liberty on my arrival 
in December, 1840, to call upon Mr. Greeley and ask him if he didn't want 
an assistant. He said no, he had just engaged one, a young man from Penn- 
sylvania. But he readily assented to my request that I might be at the office 
whenever I chose ; in return for which I promised to help in anything that 
might turn up in which I could be of assistance. And I did. I forthwith 
advertised in the Washington Intelligencer for a school in the South, and 
while awaiting replies arranged to ' study law ' in a down-town lawyer's 
office. But I.was at the New-Yorleer office every day, and somehow or other a 
good deal of the work fell into my hands. I added up election returns, read 
the exchanges for news, and discovered a good deal which others had over- 
looked ; made brief notices of new books, read proof, and made myself 
generally useful. At the end of about three weeks I received the first reply 
to my advertisement, offering me a school of thirty scholars in North Caroli- 
na, I told Mr. Greeley at once that I should leave the city the next morning. 
He asked me to walk with him to the post-office, whither he always went in 
person to get his letters and exchanges, and on the way inquired where I 
was goinf. I told him to North Carolina to teach a school. He asked me 
how much they would pay me. I said, four hundred dollars a year. ' Oh, 
said he, ' stay here — I'll give you that.' And this was my first engagement 
on the Press, and decided the whole course of my life. 

"I at once settled down to work. There was not, as Mr. Greeley says, 
very much to do on the New-Yorker, though I believe I did my share of 
■what there was. But I extended my sphere of operations considerably. I 
secured what I deemed a first-class engagement, to write daily a fancy ad- 


vertisement of some Vegetable Pills, vphich had just been invented, and which 
were to be commended to public favor every morning in the daily journals by 
bt'ing Ingeniously connected with some leading event of the day, — for which 
service, which cost me perhaps ten minutes of daily labor, I received the 
sum of fifty cents. I was fortunate enough next to get a Latin class in an up- 
town seminary. And I sent proposals for New York correspondence to a variety of newspapers, daily and weekly, throughout the country, sev- 
eral of which were confiding enough to close with my proposals. Among 
tlie dailies for which I thus engaged were the Philadelphia Standard, edited 
by E. W. Griswold, whom I had known in Vermont, and who was always 
my friend; the Cincinnati Chronicle, edited by E. D. Mansfield, now for 
sonic years the 'Veteran Observer' of the New York Times; the Bangor 
miig and the Buffalo Commercial Advertiser, edited by D. Foote, whom in 
after years I came to know, and of coarse to esteem, as did all who knew 
him. A daily letter for each of these papers, with my law studies, my 
Latin class, my work on the New- Yorker, kept my leisure reasonably well 
employed, and gave me a fair income, as none of these journals paid me 
less than five dollars a week, and one or two of them gave me six. 

"I picked up now and then instructive hints during my studies of New 
York life. While walking down Broadway one afternoon, before I tad be- 
gun to earn much money, I fell into the wake of a tall, handsome, splendid- 
ly dressed young man, — displaying himself in all the luxury of white kids 
and diamond studs, to the general admiration. I fancied him one of the 
nabobs of the town, and fell into a train of wondering thought as to how he 
had probably reached his present height of dazzling splendor. Of course I 
could not wholly forbear contrasting my own position with his,